Disrespecting the Dead [Private]

[Stitch]

Stitch wasn't so sure if he should laugh, or cry at what had just happened. The Nuit girl had done well, she really had. He had been a little worried at first, he had to admit. When he was watching her, right after he had given her the opportunity to speak, he had seen the gears start turning. He shouldn't have expected anything else, Nuit were logical above anything else... But he was hoping to see some pretense at emotion. Perhaps that is what Jilitse had gone for, and had just tried to go about it logically. Or perhaps she had decided that attempting emotion wasn't the logical thing. Stitch bit his lower lip, scolding himself mentally. He had no right to judge the woman's methods, and he had given her the opportunity anyways. And he knew that Clarrisa needed to hear something from Jilitse's mouth, anything at all. He shouldn't worry about it, and he should trust Jilitse. Everyone was deserving of trust.

He was pleasantly surprised when the Nuit strode forward, and bent down to give the girl a hug. Her aura reflected none of the warmth her action could contain, but he really did appreciate the gesture. Clarissa seemed to appreciate it as well, grabbing Jilitse and holding on for dear life. She buried her face into the Nuit as they hugged, and wept silent tears into her. Stitch still hadn't decided if this was healthy, if Clarissa was really being comforted by Jilitse, or just being comforted by the body of her mother. How would she react when Jilitse had to change 'clothes'? Still chewing on his lower lip, Stitch shoved the question aside, not wanting to mull on it. He had a habit to mull on the future, and that was futile. He had to focus on the here and now.

He stepped forward as Jilitse straightened, Clarissa still holding onto the Nuit for dear life. Her face was stuffed into her leg now, still shedding those silent tears, still trying to appear a little strong. It was Stitch's turn to stride forward smoothly, and lower himself, scooping the little girl up in his arms and pulling her close. She easily let go, collapsing into Stitch, burying herself deep into his embrace. Stitch spoke, his voice soft and whispered. "It is okay to cry. Milady Clarissa is not weak for crying. Clarissa is strong, for being brave enough, and kind enough to shed tears for the dearly loved, and dearly departed." At that, the little girl finally broke down. Huddled deep within Stitch's chest, she truly wailed, sobbing her sorrows out loud. Stitch merely held her, rocking her, muffling her desperate cries with his strong chest. Tilting his head up at Jilitse, she might would notice the wetness on his own cheeks, dripping from beneath his thickly wrapped bandages. He spoke, his voice soft, just loud enough to be heard above the crying girl.

"The caretaker's suite dominates the southern right hand side of the building. It is currently unlocked, and you are welcome to it. It is the largest room, and the most private. There are also small bedrooms on the second floor; you are welcome to any of the empty ones. The children also sleep up there. All the bedrooms and the suite itself are fully furnished. This one can meet you in either one, in about an hour, to further discuss private matters, if milady wishes." Their work here seemed to be done for the moment, although Stitch knew there would likely be more to come. The little girl had truly seen a heartbreaking thing, in the face of her dead mother. Stitch was trying to allow the Nuit a way out, so she wouldn't have to deal with the complications of human relationships anymore tonight. She looked dirty, and her aura radiated a slight irritation toward the filth on her body. A bath was what she wanted, Stitch guessed, and she had the chance to get it.

She might feel the warmth radiating against her again, clearly from him. That smile was on his face, warm and loving, and he was obviously thankful for her. A bit of pride was mixed in with the thanks as well, a somewhat odd emotion to be included. He cocked his head at her, still rocking Clarissa back and forth, and whispered once again. This time, so heartfelt that it was almost shocking. So upfront, honest, and pure.

"Thank you, milady Jilitse."

[Jilitse]

Having heard that the caretaker's suite was the most private, Jilitse immediately chose to stay there. The room was a bit larger than what she had in Sahova, and had the human necessities that she had no need for. Still, she was thankful for finding a place to stay in Syliras. The last few hours of her life was a blur, but its meaning was not lost. There were things a Nuit would not-should not-be receptive to, like human emotions among other things. It was hard to sympathize, even harder to comprehend. She gave herself a pat on the back for putting up a good show for the child. It was the least she could do.

But why was she getting so soft?

The anomaly of today's turn of events was brushed aside when Jilitse found the Caretaker's suite too big for her and her belongings. She retraced the hallway and took a smaller room which was near the stairs to the attic. It was on the end of the hallway, a strategic location where she could stay undisturbed. It was probably designed to be a child's room, but had just enough space to accommodate her. She was faced with the trouble of bringing her things into the room. The cart barely fitted through the door, so she needed to take in her stuff first. Good thing most of her stuff inside were placed in boxes. Deciding that it was relatively safe to place some of her books on a table near a small shelf, she lifted the cover sheet and started transferring her belongings one by one into the room. First came the books, then a couple of tools, and then the automatons. Should she keep these away from plain sight? After she placed all of these on top of a table, she walked out, twisted and turned the cart on its side to make it fit through the door. That done, she placed back her things into the cart and covered it with the cloth.

Even when she settled down, and was somewhat content with her personal space, Jil was bothered for she did not have a change of clothes, and her cloak was dirty, too. The Nuit needed to clean herself, or her body will deteriorate fast. Settling for a clean piece of cloth she had packed with her, she tried to wipe away the dirt on her body. She examined her limbs one by one, feeling her skin with nimble fingers, checking decay, guesstimating how much longer the body could hold her together. Knowing now that somebody else lay claim to the body did not bother her at the very least. But, Jil had wondered if Clarissa would like to get her mother's corpse back, and if so, should they give it a proper burial?

Jil examined the room, dainty but neat. She could stay there for the whole season. Now, if only Stitch would allow her to install devices of her own, something as simple as a lock. Or maybe animate the door itself. Would that be asking too much? She wondered if Stitch knew magic, and if not, would he be receptive to the idea?

She left the door open, sat on the bed, and waited for Stitch.

Once he arrived, Jilitse greeted him, "Thank you for the accommodation, now I believe we have things to discuss?" She would then try to ask once again if Stitch would need something in return for the favor he had offered Jilitse, if he declines, she will persist. It must be an old tradition she was carrying. "I smile upon your kindness, but I am afraid it is not enough, for I do not wish to burden anybody else."

"Now," she would change the topic if they would not agree on a fee or some form of exchange, "I expect we will have to discuss this." She motioned her hands to all of herself, indicating Clarissa's issue with her (technically)dead mother. She nodded at Stitch and allowed her a decent conversation with the blind man.

Jil was being too social for a Nuit, but there was a great need for it, especially since she needed Stitch's help. That much she was willing to acknowledge.

[Stitch]

Stitch and Clarissa sat there as Jilitse took her leave, both the little girl and the adult man clinging to each other for dear life. The only sound that echoed in the small office was that of muffled sobs, Clarissa producing them into Stitch's strong chest. He held her tight, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling her close, giving her a personal cocoon to hide away in as she let her sorrow pour out. Stitch was not without his sorrows as well, the grown man letting a tear slip down either cheek every so often. He could not imagine the pain she was in, but he could see it. Her Aura throbbing in unchecked agony, confusion, and anger. He tapped into it to try and understand her, to perhaps find the words that would ease her mind, but he had been reduced to silence. There were no words to console her, and perhaps only time and love would do the trick. Time and love is what he then gave her, holding her until the sobs began to die down, until the trembling of her body began to ease. He held her until she was silent, merely holding onto him for comfort. He held her until her body slowly eased, and she drifted off to sleep, hopefully to dream of something comforting and warm. A small smile now lighting his lips as he watched her Aura slowly shift into something calm and peaceful, he scooped her up, and slowly carried her upstairs. He saw Jilitse moving about, but tried to give her privacy, opting to put the little girl to bed first.

He then moved to his own personal bedroom, also one of the child's rooms. Taking one of his old shirts and wiping his face, he tried to clean off the tear stains, wanting to look a little presentable for Jilitse. Slowly unwinding his bandages, and then peeling off the hidden bloody ones, he replaced them with a thin layer of fresh medical wrap. After he had done so would he then approach the room he had seen the Nuit take.

Even though the door was open, he averted his head and gave it a slight knock before entering, as a minor show of respect. Turning to face her after he had fully entered, he let the familiar warm smile cross his features, and gave her a small nod. He guessed she had already gotten over the small incident, from what he had experienced from Malia, but he felt as if he should inform her anyways. "Hello, milady. Thank you for your help earlier, with Clarissa. She is resting easy now, and hopefully dreaming something nice. Priskil give her hope." He pulled a small child's chair over to him, flipping it around, and sat down in it, propping his elbows on the back of the chair and settling his chin in his hands. He looked something like a little boy, with that funny posture, and that silly little grin on his face. As she approached him about some form of pay, he cocked his head to the side, the grin growing infuriatingly humored. "This one will likely think of something, milady Jilitse. Mizas are not required, but perhaps you could laugh at one of this one's jokes sometime?" Chuckling, he shook his head, eventually assuming a more serious tone. "No, really. This one will think of something, if you demand a way to repay what you seem to assume is a debt. Do not worry about it, milady."

She changed the topic, and he let his minds eye wander over the body she had motioned to, and he gave a slow nod. "This one senses the body is in a state of decay? Perhaps when you change bodies, this one could give it a proper burial. This one shall ask Clarissa if she wishes to be a part of it. This one thinks she will, as she needs some proper closure. This one might see about getting her buried in the Stone Gardens, although that may not be possible. When Clarissa's mother was still breathing, she was quite the Knight. Why she left is unknown, and it left quite a bad taste in quite a few mouths. Milady wasn't just hated because she was a Nuit. Milady was also hated because she was a Sylirian Knight who abandoned her post, without any kind of explanation." He also felt the need to explain this, as if it was his duty to fill in all the holes that Jilitse might question. He knew they thrived on logic, and this one seemed to breath it. He would try and fulfill that for her.

Pausing, he considered her again, letting a somewhat awkward silence fall upon the small little room. He wondered why she had chose this one. It was somewhat small, especially since she had quite a few belongings, and that little cart. But then again, the suite was a little big, so perhaps that had caused her to reconsider what he thought would have been her decision. Shrugging to himself, he let his thoughts return to the cart, although he made a point to still not look at it. "Milady, this one has a question, and you may choose to answer or not. It seems like a private matter." Cocking a thumb toward the cart, but still not looking at it, he let himself question it. "Might this one inquire if that cart is something this one should worry about? This one has made a point not to look at it, as you seem slightly protective of it. This one just wants to make sure it isn't anything... questionable." Clearing his throat a bit awkwardly, he lamely added another sentence to the end of his previous. He always felt awkward conversing with Nuits, as you almost had to force conversation with them. "Might I also inquire what milady wishes to accomplish in Syliras? Perhaps something this one can help with?"

[Jilitse]

The image of Clarissa's mother, thinner yet still beautiful, in her immortal state of decay was sitting in front of Stitch. She acknowledge the human's expression of gratitude, and her face registered a small frown upon the mention of Priskil. Suddenly, her mind started drifting back into her mission, but found herself unable to. Stitch had brought up the issue of Jil's stay and its cost, and have instead held a debt against her. She could settle for taht, after all, what value would staying for a season in the Welcome Home be? Jilitse knew that the advantage was all to her. Perhaps Stitch was kind like that. "I'm not sure about laughing," she wondered, "for I am not quite sure what you meant by a joke." One could only wonder what nuits would find amusing, or funny.

She listened patiently to the human, barely responding to his opinions regarding Clarissa's mother's burial. Before she could think of letting the child have her mom, she needed to find a body to replace her current one with. She could kill somebody if necessary, but would hate to do so. Actually, Jilitse felt like she was having a tiny voice of conscience in her mind. How could she look at corpses the same way again after Clarissa? She raised the topic with Stitch, "Before giving this body back to its daughter, however, I would like to tell you that losing this body means gaining another. I cannot switch bodies without getting a new corpse. I usually care not for the gender, I prefer adults, but Syliras is not a good place for a Nuit to find a replacement body. And, I have also been quite troubled of today's event. It is not of my character to worry about the corpse I am transferring to, for I usually care only about my well-being, but then, dead people have relatives like Clarissa. Possessing another face, who has families and friends who could recognize them..." She closed her eyes once and gazed back at Stitch, "I am not sure the message is coming across." What did she want to say? That she would start thinking of a corpse's history from now on? That she is scared to use another body altogether because a random stranger in the street would recognize the real owner? "Once I have settled a solution for that problem, you are free to do as you please with the body."

A silence embraced the two of them. It was welcome, but unwanted. Jilitse could only try to guess what was holding the human from leaving, or for continuing what the wanted to say. When he did, however, Jilitse almost gasped. "I suspect as much," she said to herself. She stood up and, stepping beside the cart protectively. "I have been baffled since earlier how you seem to be more than an ordinary blind man, almost as if you could see. I noticed that you have quite he number of rooms around here, and even if you had someone else to help you, your disability would flaw you enough." She added her own opinion, "Either you have a strong spirit, or you are trained in magic."

She waited for Stitch to admit and acknowledge before continuing. "I am grateful for your hospitality, and am somehow confused why you would accept me in your Home, regardless of the face I carry. You do not discriminate, I'll give you that. It is too late to ask, but since you did, I am a witch. I work with world magic. I have recently left Sahova," she gave him a very enigmatic smile, for she may have just revealed how old she was, "to pursue a mission, a quest. This cart contains all of my possessions. This small cart sums up my existence so far. Everything contained in here is just as special as the journey I have made, and thus I protect it. I is of course, of relative definition. Questionable in the sense that I do have a golem or two inside." She searched his face for any sign of apprehension.

Stitch followed through by asking her purpose of stay. She did not wish to hide anything or lie from his benefactor, "I am seeking out the Goddess Priskil, and am informed that the Syliras Watchtower, the one in the Bronze Woods is still active. I am preparing myself to meet her friends named the Order of Radiance, and so I have decided to stop here in the City and study humans, or any other race I could meet, with regards to their deities. I do not worship one, but I do acknowledge a few. I have lived without needing faith, but faith it is that which I must seek again. Perhaps I will find it after I learn about it. There are reasons for faith that I must study, opinions of people that I should weigh in." Her lips tightened into a line. She would not like to discuss the rest of the reason why she would like to meet Priskil. But of course, if Stitch asked, she would. It's on a "want to know" basis anyway. "If I shall be honored with an audience from the Goddess herself, all the better. My business is with her anyway." Her tone was melancholy despite the monotone.

[Stitch]

He grinned, shaking his head, blushing a little bit. A joke? How in the world was he supposed to explain that to her? He had practically just told one, in a way, and she hadn't even twitched. All he had really done was confuse her. "Well, a joke is..." He paused, cocking his head, his unseeing eyes aiming toward the ceiling as he delved into deep thought. Humming to himself while he pondered, after a few moments, he cocked his eyes down toward her and gave her that same grin again. "Well, let me try to give you the exact definition, milady. Listen closely, as a joke is a pretty big deal when it comes to human culture, or most culture in general. If someone tries to tell you a joke, then laughing is the best response. A joke is a humorous anecdote or a remark intended to provoke laughter. When used appropriately, a joke, or laughter, or even a smile..." Stitch beamed brightly at the girl, as if trying to give her an example. "...is the best way to make people happy, to make new friends, to heal a hurt heart, or to generally lighten up a sad person." Stitch nodded fervently, obviously he was a fan of this concept he was talking about. "Perhaps you may not understand, for happiness and sadness is something that comes along with emotions... And logically, milady should not need them... But perhaps they are needed in order to interact with those who do have them? Or at least a general idea of how they work."

He quietened as she explained the predicament of her current body, and the fact that a new one was needed. Nodding a few times to signal that he was indeed listening, he waiting for just a few moments after she had finished, thinking about what she had said. He had already wondered about it himself, and now that she had spoke about it openly, he realized that it was a bit of a problem. A few moments passed before Stitch shrugged, a happy curve once more returning to his lips. "This one honestly does not know how to go about getting you a body. Would milady need a completely fresh one? Milady might could go deeper within Syliras castle, to some of the more important members of the realm, and ask if there might be a fresh body she could take from a grave? This one knows it sounds like a odd request, and they may say no... But perhaps if you explain who you are, and why you need it...?" His voice genuinely sounded lost on the topic. He couldn't help but think of the hateful people who had verbally abused her outside, and wondered if that same prejudice would be found within all the rest in Syliras. He didn't think too much on it though. Best to remain positive, right? "But do not worry, milady. This one is sure you will find a new body quite soon, and in an appropriate way. This one likes to believe that everything always works out, in some good way or another!" The blind man offered her another cheery grin, obviously quite full of them. He was like a never ending fountian of joy.

Her accusation about his magic came next, and he nodded, instantly confessing. "This one wouldn't say he is particularly trained... A beloved friend taught this one a little about how to see. Auristics, they call it? This one does it instinctively now, and this one is not very wizard like about it..." Stitch laughed, shaking he head. He obviously was unaware that magic could be a taboo thing, or that wizards tended to be distrusted. He spoke about it quite openly. "But, this one has been doing it for quite a few seasons now, and it gets easier and easier." He gave no indication that her being a witch was of any bother to him, just a slightly puzzled look and a raised eyebrow. "World magic? Forgive this one, milady. Like this one said before, this one is not much of a wizard, and is horribly uneducated in the world of witches and wizards. What is a golem?" Stitch looked a little fretful now, but only because the conversation had lost him. He wanted to understand, and wanted to be able to converse with her about it. Perhaps that was just his incredible curiosity speaking.

He next look positively awed at her quest, his mouth hanging open in sudden child-like wonder. "Milady wishes to meet a Goddess? That would be incredible! This one wishes you luck on your journey, and hopes you do find the audience you are looking for. This one is aware of the Watchtower you speak of, and would be happy to guide you to it, when the time comes. If you like." At the mention of Priskil, a vein had bulged in his forehead, and now remained there. It throbbed with a lifee of it's own, loooking somewhat odd and rather painful, yet went completely un-noticed by Stitch. He smiled, rocking back and forth on his heels in the doorway, looking pleased. "Thank you for sharing your intentions with me, milady; as well as the contents of the cart. This one is happy to hold you in his home."

[Jilitse]

Stitch was a very polite human, he took his time answering the Nuit's queries. He was also very eager to help, which was quite a strange quality in a stranger. Jilitse had her own reservations, but kept to mind what Mashaen had told her. Her need for allies was trailed along with the necessity to interact with other people. She listened as Stitch educated her with the meaning of a joke. Quite interesting, so joke is comparable to humor. No, joke is humor.

She skipped through the topic of replacing her body. And was getting a bit weirded out of Stitch. Maybe the man was just simple like that, innocent without the paranoia. "I shall attend to the body the best I can, I have about a season or two before it gives up." By then Clarissa's mother's face would no longer be recognizable. She should get a replacement as early as next season.

Stitch continued and she listened, Auristics was it? It was a familiar magic, but not one she was good at. Stitch seemed to be at ease with the topic, so Jilitse explained her own craft, comparing it with Stitch's "Auristics, if I'm not mistaken, is fueled by your own djed. You are able to transform your life force and use it to perform supernatural feats, the way you are able to obtain sight in order to see despite being blind." She paused, "Are you familiar with other forms of Personal Magic? They are quite different from the discipline I practice. I possess no superpower, but I have studied the craft of Animation, a process of imbuing life-like traits to objects. The Nuit race is actually a by-product of the same discipline, we are considered reanimated corpses. The discipline is quite taboo in some places, as the current population seem to be averse in the notion of animating objects - corpses, most especially. A golem is a product of animation, I shall show you one, one day." She looked at him, and then the door. "Come to think of it, would you allow me to train my discipline in here? I shall be very discreet and I shall not tell the others about it." What do children know about magic anyway? Stitch's innocence of wizards and witches could be quite useful, Jil noted to herself. He seem to have no idea of its dangers... not yet, anyway.

"Ah, no. I suppose I could do the journey to the watchtower myself. I wish to do it as soon as possible, the Bronze woods is not really very far," she thought deeply, "But I shall keep your offer in mind, it would be to my honor." She welcomed the blind man, but not his lingering presence.

"Do you have other inquiries?" Jilitse inquired, "I do not want to deter you from your duties." Yes, I'd like to be alone now, please.

[Stitch]

Stitch cocked his head at the Nuit, focusing all of his attention upon her. As she tried to explain his own magic to himself, and then her magic to him, he felt as if he was completely blanking out. Every word she spoke seemed as if it was going in one ear, and out the other. He tried though, he tried quite hard, focusing very steadily on what it was she had to say. She might notice it though, the blank look on his face, and the slight hint of confusion in his handsome features. He obviously had no experience in magic, and knew little about what exactly it was he dabbled in. She finished her explaination, and then asked permission to practice Animation, and he was then left with a bit of a dilemma.

What was Animation, again?

He had been listening, he really had, but her explaination had gone over his head. He really wasn't sure what she had been talking about exactly, and was still struggling to put it all together. A small blush rose to his cheeks as he realized his struggle, distantly wondering if it was really this hard for others, or if he was just a bit dumb. He wouldn't doubt it, after all, he spent all of his time with children. Chuckling a bit, he shook his head, letting out a small sigh. Best not to think about it too much. She seemed trustworthy enough, he figured he could place enough faith in her to let her practice whatever magic she wished. "That is fine, milady. Practice all the Animation you like. As long as you don't mind letting the children watch you work your craft, then this one doesn't mind letting you do it. No reason to be discreet about it, not at all. This one is sure they will be very curious, and this one is also quite sure you won't mind." Jilitse was given another beaming smile, and perhaps the impression that the blind man was a bit more pushy than he first appeared. In a rather nice way, of course. "This one will make sure word of it doesn't travel beyond these walls though. This one can promise milady that."

She opted to take the Watchtower journey by herself, and Stitch nodded, understanding. "Of course, milady. The offer will stand as long as you are here, however. So if you decide you would like a guide, please do not fail in bringing it to my attention. If not this one, than this one will find someone else to aid you." Now rocking back and forth on his heels, hands still politely clasped behind his back, he then cocked his head in the other direction as she discreetly pushed for him to leave, and give her the privacy she desired.

He was horrible at picking up on hidden hints.

"Oh, not at all, milady! This one is quite done with his work for today. Fentya is finishing up with the laundry, and Trish is cooking some lunch. This one doesn't have a thing to do at-" Pausing suddenly, his head shooting erect, his mouth paused in mid-sentence. It appeared he finally got it. With a slight cough, another blush rising to his cheeks, he stepped back, nodding. "Ah, of course. Of course, milady. This one apologizes for taking up too much of your time. Please enjoy the room milady, and let this one know if you need anything. This one is happy to have you."

And with that, Stitch was gone, with a wave and a beaming grin.

Out of all the humans the Nuit could have stumbled on, out of all the possible allies she might have met... she had met Stitch. Jilitse was in for quite a new experience.

[Leviathan]

Thread Award! Stitch Exp +1 Flux, +2 Childcare/Baby Sitting, +1 Auristics, +1 Storytelling, +2 Interrogation, +1 Rhetoric Lore Defending the Dead, Dealing with Heartbroken Children, Mutualism Jilitse Exp +3 Observation, +1 Storytelling, +2 Rhetoric, +1 Childcare/Baby Sitting, +1 Acting Lore Caring for the Living, Dealing with Heartbroken Children, Mutualism Additional Comments I am genuinely sorry for taking so long to get this, but as always, if you have questions, comments, or concerns, feel free to message me and we'll work out a solution.