There was a defined window that the Spiritist woman had, based on her tale of how she'd acquired this place. Savis witnessed the falling stars, but didn't dare investigate them. She'd had enough miserable experiences with magic stones for a lifetime, and wasn't sad to miss out on the dangers nor the rewards of it all. Instead, she put her mind to task, and allowed herself to reason the distinct possibility that no one else had yet visited this place with her. The woman seemed to have this unpractised grandeur in the showing of it all, and the Nuit, if she was right, was quite pleased by it.
Living or dead, souls are not so different after all. Madeira Craven kept her hidden prowess close to home, but everything else she's been very forthcoming with. Everyone has their secrets... but how will they react when those secrets are known?
The undead resolved to probe into Madeira Craven in the utter privacy of this sanctum. In a place where none could eavesdrop, lest the Spiritist wish to keep her powers hidden from the house and her servants. She listened further, her resolution intact even as Madeira lavishly laid down the ideas of honesty, placing a practised smile that led Savis Maren on to the belief that she even might have been mistaken. Were there truly secrets to be had between them?
Yes. There are. But no longer, she reinforced as the Spiritist described her items one by one. The room, her spy sphere. Her 'trade' tools, born from her Spiritism. Savis Maren allowed djed to breach from the depths of her soul at last. The conversation took time, as Madeira Craven showed her through item after item, but rather than probe the items with her djed, she simply saw Madeira.
The rings around the woman's eyes flared with the practised usage. If Savis Maren looked at her own aura, she saw the familiar signs of it, too. Deep within her eyesockets, at her elbows and along her forearms were the marks that could only be seen if a great deal of time was spent looking for them. As Savis Maren was shown the bone ring, she broke her concentration. The last impression she had from Madeira Craven was self-assured hope. The very same sort of realization that Savis Maren had with her improvement in her capacity for Glyphing.
We're working towards a goal, improving for the sake of a cause. This alliance feels like the collision of knives, each sharpening the other in preparation for what comes next.
The Nuit reached for the bone ring, curious to see what might come of it. She placed it on her finger, and immediately an incredibly artificial heat thrust through her chest. Her eyes widened, the sensation so utterly unfamiliar to her. She reached forward, clutching at Madeira's wrist, long nails caressing at the bony joint before she pulled away. The Nuit's fingernails pierced into the grass between the both of them as she allowed the ring to slide from her finger and onto the grass.
That's what Malediction can do? How perverse, she thought. There could be no cold sweat dripping from Savis' forehead, but nonetheless, she seemed disheveled, her form wracked with ghostly tremors born not from the nerves, but the mind. Then, the Spiritist thrust a cloak over her shoulders, and the Nuit reached for the fabric, she saw that the Spiritist tied the brooch about her neck.
"H-hide," she said with a degree of uncertainty, still clutched by the sensation that crawled through her undead flesh, impossible to know through ordinary means for her. The Nuit's body vanished underneath her, and she found this tool of Madeira's far more benign than the other. She allowed a chuckle to escape her lips, undoing the brooch and handing the garment back to Madeira Craven before she said,
"I have a few things at my disposal. Most of the magic items I have are creations born from Animation. Obviously, you know of the platform we made together. There's also," she began. One by one, Savis pulled the creations she'd pulled into being. The Gadget Arm was first. In its hand, she placed the Defender's Sphere. Alongside the two, she laid Tunes onto the bag. Lastly, the Voice Box, a familiar sight to the Spiritist if she recalled it, was put on the ground.
"the Gadget Arm. It was made from the hunter, Raeyn, and possesses a dexterity similar to the hunter's own. It follows commands and heeds them by sound alone. Obviously, its capacities are limited due to its blindness, but it's very good to use as a means of holding something up. Maybe I'll use it as a coat rack in my new abode," she mused with a laugh.
"There's the Voice Box, a curious cube born in the Summer. Storms of wild djed left me mute very early on, and I devised this as a means of communication. It's been rendered unnecessary, as you can hear," she said, pleased with the item's service but otherwise not needing it. "Perhaps a child could learn to spell with it," she mused before moving on to the Sphere held in the Gadget Arm's hand.
"I don't know a lot about this. I acquired it in the Autumn. It produces a large shield, but with no danger to test it out on, I've yet to find a reason to activate it."
"Then, there's Tunes. An Ethaefal known as Mauriel helped me devise this. Out of all of my automata, this one has the most prominent personality, but its primary function is to repeat or sing text written into its pages. Then," the Nuit thought on. She didn't bring Wheels with her, but it was in the basement they'd exited.
"There's Wheels, my most prominent creation. He's combined the use of voice, movement, and cognitive abilities and is a true automaton among otherwise more niche functionalities. He often accompanies me into the city and is intelligent enough to be useful without having luxuries like free will."
With this necessary comparison of their arcane acquisitions completed, the Nuit turned to what she'd been dreading most. It seemed as if Madeira Craven was wanting to leave now, but it was now or never.
"I know you've been hiding things from me, Madeira. And while I can appreciate the need for secrecy, I can't abide those things anymore after hearing you preach about trust and sharing secrets. I enjoy this partnership of ours. You've helped me see this city as more than just a sanctuary. You've even given me a sort of family, as perverse and unnatural as that might seem.
But there's more to you than what you've shown me. Auristics isn't all of the personal magic you're capable of. As I've grown in that talent, I've seen things from you, a power that rises from your eyes and leaves its mark around them. Tell me, please, what you seem to want to hide from everyone else," she implored the younger mage.
Living or dead, souls are not so different after all. Madeira Craven kept her hidden prowess close to home, but everything else she's been very forthcoming with. Everyone has their secrets... but how will they react when those secrets are known?
The undead resolved to probe into Madeira Craven in the utter privacy of this sanctum. In a place where none could eavesdrop, lest the Spiritist wish to keep her powers hidden from the house and her servants. She listened further, her resolution intact even as Madeira lavishly laid down the ideas of honesty, placing a practised smile that led Savis Maren on to the belief that she even might have been mistaken. Were there truly secrets to be had between them?
Yes. There are. But no longer, she reinforced as the Spiritist described her items one by one. The room, her spy sphere. Her 'trade' tools, born from her Spiritism. Savis Maren allowed djed to breach from the depths of her soul at last. The conversation took time, as Madeira Craven showed her through item after item, but rather than probe the items with her djed, she simply saw Madeira.
The rings around the woman's eyes flared with the practised usage. If Savis Maren looked at her own aura, she saw the familiar signs of it, too. Deep within her eyesockets, at her elbows and along her forearms were the marks that could only be seen if a great deal of time was spent looking for them. As Savis Maren was shown the bone ring, she broke her concentration. The last impression she had from Madeira Craven was self-assured hope. The very same sort of realization that Savis Maren had with her improvement in her capacity for Glyphing.
We're working towards a goal, improving for the sake of a cause. This alliance feels like the collision of knives, each sharpening the other in preparation for what comes next.
The Nuit reached for the bone ring, curious to see what might come of it. She placed it on her finger, and immediately an incredibly artificial heat thrust through her chest. Her eyes widened, the sensation so utterly unfamiliar to her. She reached forward, clutching at Madeira's wrist, long nails caressing at the bony joint before she pulled away. The Nuit's fingernails pierced into the grass between the both of them as she allowed the ring to slide from her finger and onto the grass.
That's what Malediction can do? How perverse, she thought. There could be no cold sweat dripping from Savis' forehead, but nonetheless, she seemed disheveled, her form wracked with ghostly tremors born not from the nerves, but the mind. Then, the Spiritist thrust a cloak over her shoulders, and the Nuit reached for the fabric, she saw that the Spiritist tied the brooch about her neck.
"H-hide," she said with a degree of uncertainty, still clutched by the sensation that crawled through her undead flesh, impossible to know through ordinary means for her. The Nuit's body vanished underneath her, and she found this tool of Madeira's far more benign than the other. She allowed a chuckle to escape her lips, undoing the brooch and handing the garment back to Madeira Craven before she said,
"I have a few things at my disposal. Most of the magic items I have are creations born from Animation. Obviously, you know of the platform we made together. There's also," she began. One by one, Savis pulled the creations she'd pulled into being. The Gadget Arm was first. In its hand, she placed the Defender's Sphere. Alongside the two, she laid Tunes onto the bag. Lastly, the Voice Box, a familiar sight to the Spiritist if she recalled it, was put on the ground.
"the Gadget Arm. It was made from the hunter, Raeyn, and possesses a dexterity similar to the hunter's own. It follows commands and heeds them by sound alone. Obviously, its capacities are limited due to its blindness, but it's very good to use as a means of holding something up. Maybe I'll use it as a coat rack in my new abode," she mused with a laugh.
"There's the Voice Box, a curious cube born in the Summer. Storms of wild djed left me mute very early on, and I devised this as a means of communication. It's been rendered unnecessary, as you can hear," she said, pleased with the item's service but otherwise not needing it. "Perhaps a child could learn to spell with it," she mused before moving on to the Sphere held in the Gadget Arm's hand.
"I don't know a lot about this. I acquired it in the Autumn. It produces a large shield, but with no danger to test it out on, I've yet to find a reason to activate it."
"Then, there's Tunes. An Ethaefal known as Mauriel helped me devise this. Out of all of my automata, this one has the most prominent personality, but its primary function is to repeat or sing text written into its pages. Then," the Nuit thought on. She didn't bring Wheels with her, but it was in the basement they'd exited.
"There's Wheels, my most prominent creation. He's combined the use of voice, movement, and cognitive abilities and is a true automaton among otherwise more niche functionalities. He often accompanies me into the city and is intelligent enough to be useful without having luxuries like free will."
With this necessary comparison of their arcane acquisitions completed, the Nuit turned to what she'd been dreading most. It seemed as if Madeira Craven was wanting to leave now, but it was now or never.
"I know you've been hiding things from me, Madeira. And while I can appreciate the need for secrecy, I can't abide those things anymore after hearing you preach about trust and sharing secrets. I enjoy this partnership of ours. You've helped me see this city as more than just a sanctuary. You've even given me a sort of family, as perverse and unnatural as that might seem.
But there's more to you than what you've shown me. Auristics isn't all of the personal magic you're capable of. As I've grown in that talent, I've seen things from you, a power that rises from your eyes and leaves its mark around them. Tell me, please, what you seem to want to hide from everyone else," she implored the younger mage.
