PM to join Reasons to Celebrate

[Eithne]

Eithne had never been much of a social person. She preferred the sound of silence, and the quiet, calming aura of things that have long since joined the earth. But she liked to drink, and drinking often drew a crowd. So the half-breed was forced into situations that, although they brought momentary discomfort, welcomed a plethora of new experiences. On the streets of Sunberth, she'd learned how to avoid drawing attention, and to mistrust anyone and everyone who even so much as spoke in her direction. But since moving to Lhavit, the self-preserving behaviour ingrained in her had slowly been chipped away. Eithne no longer retreated when someone spoke to her abruptly, or gripped the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath her blouse.

Instead, she was drinking just as heartily as the svefra that sat before her. One long drought emptied the rest of her glass and she set it on the table, listening to his explanation of his tattoo. "That's an interesting way to look at it. Most people I knew who had a tattoo got it because they lost a dare. Most of them included phalluses of some kind," she shrugged.

The ivory woman spoke next and Eithne turned her gaze toward her as she spoke of her reason for leaving. The half-breed could have never imagined having a family so large that she'd have to move to another city to escape its influence. Her father had been her only family, but it would be a lie to say that Eithne hadn't wanted to search for kin. "Fascinating. Will you ever return to your family once you've learned all you could?" The question hung in the air, however, as the sound of wood chipping was brought to her ear.

Slitted, green eyes darted toward the svefra, catching him etching into the countertop just before the momentary impulse seemed to wear away. Eithne raised a brow, not so much in alarm, but in curiosity. As Estrellir traced the pattern and made a comment, the maledictor studied the carvings with an almost predatory eye.

"Is that something you do often?" She spoke up, her voice decidedly neutral.

Boxcode by Marion Kay.

Common | Ancient tongue | Snake Tongue

[Titus Galesong]

Titus was not yet readjusted from his little spell. He watched the dainty finger of Estrellir as she traced his carving. There was a good portion of the young man that feared whatever caused these impulses. He didn’t mind not knowing things about the world. The sailor was not the type of person who had to have all the answers; in fact, he liked a bit of mystery in his world. However, not understanding the method or meaning behind his own compulsion was something that disturbed the young Svefra. Some of the words being passed about in the conversation registered with him and some did not. The distraction and others like it fit in the same category as a night of heavy drinking. Both had a tendency to remove a piece of time from Titus’ memory.

A blank stare filled his handsome face as he tried to respond to the Konti. Her presence was calming but it did little to ease the helpless mood that had washed over his partying mood. Blue eyes flickered as they scoured the room for the bartender while weathered hands returned the blade to its rightful position out of sight. The blonde hair, in all its mess, fell around his face. Titus used the cover to gauge the reactions of those around him since tracking his eyes was nearly impossible beneath his mess of sun-bleached locks. The Konti seemed curious but only vaguely concerned. Eithne had a different expression on her face though it didn’t linger for long. She replaced it with a cold indifference before addressing the sailor’s strange quirk. This was curious to Titus but he simply figured that people had their reasons for hiding their emotions. He ran his left hand up past his face with splayed fingers that caught and pulled his hair back from his eyes. With a small smile, his azure gaze went directly to his dark-haired companion even as he answered the Konti’s question. “It’s just circles and words, Estrellir.” He took his time sounding through her name to make sure he repeated it properly.

A pause set in while Titus gathered his restricted knowledge of Common to continue. His tone was softer than before but this also dampened his heavy accent which made him a little easier to understand. “I know these words but not why…umm…I dig them into things.” A slight tilt moved his head so that there was no mistake that he was addressing Eithne. “Since I come to this place, circles and words blind me.” His fingers ran reminiscently over his freshly etched rings. “They come. I dig them into something. They leave.” His body sighed as if he was relieved to share that bit of information. Still staring at Eithne, there was a tiny spark of desperation that an observant eye could find. “Do you know this?” His hand flattened over the fresh carving to emphasize his question.

[Estrellir Konrath]

Estrellir chose not to comment on the kind of tattoos Eithne had mentioned, merely wrinkling her nose. She had never heard of bets or dares being resolved that way, to her it sounded low and distasteful. The Svefra tradition seemed much more reasonable.

She swirled the last drops of liquid in her glass and gave a cunning smile. “Nobody has enough time to learn everything there is, not even a Konti. To answer your question though, yes, I intend to return one day and put to use what I’ve learned here. Lhavit is a good place for furthering many different trades and skills, no?” There, another hint. Estrellir sensed that the other woman wasn’t one to share her secrets easily, even more mundane ones. Sometimes, however, people opened up if you offered them enough of your own background in return. Equal trade.

Either way, they already had much more in common than the average pair of strangers – and in her opinion, that was enough reason to share more than she usually would.

Titus let his hair fell over his eyes and seemed to hesitate before pushing it back. Estrellir tilted her head, intrigued. “Circles and words often contain spells or at least secrets.” She didn’t elaborate, leaving it to the others to figure out what kinds of spells. Back in Kenash, she never would’ve hinted at magic that heavily, but this was Lhavit. Not exactly fireballs on every street corner, but people knew. When the Svefra continued, her curiosity grew. Perhaps not magic, but definitely something unusual. You could pry a secret from people even when they were oblivious to its true meaning, but that took considerable skill. “Perhaps your God is trying to tell you something. Or maybe the part of your mind that’s awake in your sleep.”

Eithne seemed to know or at least suspect more about his odd practice, so the Konti left the questioning to her. Just then, the bartender came by once more and she generously ordered another round for all of them.

[Eithne]

Eithne stared curiously at the young man, watching him like a snake would its prey, but she meant no ill will. The mage was only curious, drawn in by things she could not rightly explain. And in this instant, it was the Svefra lad who held all of the secrets. Eithne tilted her head a bit, circling the base of her glass with a finger.

Words that he's compelled to carve into things? How curious. Glyphing, perhaps? The thought made her frown. She'd never heard of a person compelled to cast a magic they didn't even understand. Unless...

"Did you drink from the fountain?" Eithne asked abruptly, just after Estrellir voiced her opinion on the matter. She remembered the way her own newfound magic had manifested like a disease from her hands. She'd burned all of the plants in her apartment to a crisp, and still, even after the fountain's conclusion, she struggled to keep her new reimancy powers in check.

But perhaps it wasn't the fountain's cause. Perhaps it was something else. Eithne pursed her lips and turned her gaze to the Konti when she spoke of the lad's God and subconscious. "It only began when he came to Lhavit," She supplied. "Perhaps something here is affecting you negatively. A warning perhaps?" She shrugged. "Do all svefra usually get this way or it only affects you?"

She thanked the bartender when the round Estrellir had ordered finally arrived. With a nod toward the other woman in thanks, she took a sip. "I'm no expert, however. If it's truly bothering you, perhaps you should approach one of the Towers for aid? There's bound to be someone there that could help you understand what it is you're carving."

Eithne paused for a moment. "I had some trouble myself with compulsions this past spring. Well.. perhaps compulsion isn't the right word. More like spontaneous combustions. Strange things have been happening lately. It's probably something in the water." She offered a cheeky smile.

Boxcode by Marion Kay.

Common | Ancient tongue | Snake Tongue