Solo Lavender Blue, Rosemary Green

[Madeira Dusk]

60th of Fall, 519

"You've got it, Chiona, lean into it. One two three, one two three." Madeira kept time with the slow clap of her gloved hands.

"Lavender blue, Rosemary green,
When I am king you shall be queen;
Who told you so, who told you so?'
Twas mine own heart, that told me so."

Every window was wide open and drapes tied aside in her classroom high atop the Dusk tower in an attempt to coax in a breeze that refused to come. A golden mid morning light spilled onto the empty flagged stone floor. All the desks had been pushed up against the walls to leave a large empty ring in the middle. Or a stage, as Madeira liked to think.

In the middle was Chiona Dusk, sweating in a sleeveless saree dress, her arms extended in big sweeping arcs, her feet tapping away at the familiar steps of the old song. But something was wrong, she was shaky and behind the beat, stubbing her toes and stumbling along with an expression that flickered between pain, confusion and red faced anger.

"Rosemary green, Lavender blue
You must love me, cause I love you,
I heard it say, since I came hither,
That you and I, must lie together"

"And... jeté!" Madeira clapped once, loudly.

Chiona planted one leg and leap to the other with a wide, thrown motion. But in a bizarre moment of dissonance she tried to land with her feet planted firmly and delicately at the same time, and her posture twisted like she was caught in the tangled strings of two incompetent puppeteers. She landed hard on her left leg that was both arching its feet and braced for impact, and crumpled. Madeira winced from her seat on the edge of her teacher's desk at the front of the room.

"Alright, not excellent, but I do see improvement! We're getting closer, I can feel it."

The Dusk woman got shakily to her feet, and when she looked up her eyes were wild, the pupils expanded to almost pure black while the iris was nothing but a thin corona of her usual honey brown. She spit hair out of her mouth and shook out her shaking arms. "She's not listening", she hissed, her voice low with a thrumming frustration.

"No", her voice switched to a high, haughty voice dripping in venom. "She's not giving up an ounce of control!"

"Then stop trying to show off!"

"For gods sake, show some trust."

"You're going to break my neck."

Madeira sat there, fingers drumming on the desk while she listened to this woman argue with herself in two completely different voices. Then with a quiet rustle of silk she slid off her seat and walked around to the chalkboard that dominated the wall behind her. The tapping of her chalk as she wrote became the quite punctuation as the woman in the middle of the floor bickered with herself, turning in circles and gesticulating wildly.

"GRACE!" Madeira finally yelled, slamming the flat of her hand on the board so hard it rattled on the wall. Chiona's argument stopped mid sentence with a little yip of fright. Madeira underlined the word with a hard, board stroke of her chalk for added emphasis.

"What is Grace, ladies?" She jab a finger at the only other woman in the room. "Chiona?"

"The act of shared possession", the older woman recited sourly, like she was reading from a textbook. "A symbiotic state where a host and foreign soul are both in control in a state of perfect balance."

WC: 602

[Madeira Dusk]

"Correct", she wrote the answer beneath in bold capital letters. "Now why do we want Grace", she jabbed her finger at Chiona again. "Eliza?"

A dense pearlescent mist seemed to pull away from the Dusk woman's body. It's edges sharpened, it's form filling out and spilling colour until it looked almost human. The ghost had the look of a dancer gone slightly to seed. She stood tall against the downward pull of her wrinkled skin, her posture impeccable despite the tell tale signs of arthritis in her swollen knees. Her grey hair was piled atop her head in an artful twist, and her slitted dress was elegantly draped.

"She wants my skills but has zero control of herself", the ghost gathered her shawl around herself, her dramatically long lashes lowering in distain. "I mean, of all the simple, childish steps-"

"Eliza", Madeira twisted the name into a warning, and jabbed again.

Eliza sighed dramatically. "I suppose we want to share", she glanced conspicuously at Chiona, "skills and knowledge."

"Excellent", she wrote the answer underneath the first. "Yes, this is a wholly unique and uniquely powerful state where a dead and living soul essentially become one, with thoughts, feelings and even skills and knowledge shared between them." Madeira's eyes flashed. "This is the absolute highest form of possession control and the hardest one to master. I had thought you two would be ready to try it. Yet we can't even seem to get past the concept teamwork, much less soul symbiosis. What's the problem here, ladies?"

At once the room erupted into noise, as the two women battled to be heard over the other.

"She's impossible, Madeira. She has no respect for my body-"

"-wants my expertise but gives nothing in return-"

"- some prima donna perfectionist-"

"-stubborn little control freak-"

"-such a haughty-"

"-lazy-"

"ENOUGH!", Madeira barked over the noise. "Eliza, go cool off. Leave a drop of soulmist on the desk, right there. Chiona, stay here."

The ghost huffed, making a point to flare her gown dramatically as she swept out through the closed door. Once she was gone the silence was oppressive and complete, with not even a ruffle of a breeze through the windows to break it. Chiona collapsed exhausted onto the nearest desk chair. Madeira pulled another chair over and joined her.

"Sorry, Mads. I don't mean to disappoint you."

The Spiritist's posture had changed dramatically once the ghost left. She was loose and relaxed, the fire having left her in a rush. Her head lolled back and she chuckled at the ceiling. "I wasn't aware I was disappointed. You're doing fine, Chiona. Even if I might not say so in front of her", she nodded towards the door the ghost just left through, and she looked back at Chiona with eyes sparkling with mischief. "I do have a reputation to keep, you know."

"As a hardass?" Chiona smirked.

"If my students aren't at least a little afraid of me then what's the point?"

"You're awful." The women laughed together, but Chiona sobered quickly. "You know, I'm trying my best, but something isn't clicking. I don't think I'm ready for this."

Madeira stretched languidly in her seat. She knew Chiona wouldn't be ready for this. This lesson was destined to be nothing but a failure. But that wasn't the point. She reached over and placed a reassuring hand over Chiona's knee, and her voice rounded at the edges, turning soft and coaxing. "Hey, you've got this. And even if you don't, I've got you. However long it takes, okay? Don't be disheartened."

Chiona smiled, thankful for the reassurance, and covered her hand with her own. It was the briefest moment of intimacy, but it made Madeira's inner voice roar in triumph.

WC: 659

[Madeira Dusk]

"Okay, are we ready to bring Eliza back before she makes it back to the Ethereal Opera House to complain about us?" Chiona groaned but didn't refuse. Clasping her hand between two of her own Madeira pulled her to her feet. "There we go! Don't worry, we're going to change it up this time."

Summoning the disgruntled retired dancer back with a drop of blood and a whispered name, Madeira faced the ghost with a smile.

"Are we feeling better? Here", unscrewing the top of her holy flask she flicked a drop of soulmist at the ghost. Almost instantly her colour deepened and her eyes fluttered closed with the intense feeling of it. Once she was sure the two women were not about to erupt into bickering again Madeira turned her back to them and approached the board. "Dancing is my preferred method of teaching Graceful Possession, can you guess why?"

"Because it is the finest form of art", the ghost answered immediately. Chiona rolled her eyes.

"No. But you're on the right track." Tap tap tap went her chalk as Madeira scribbled down the answer. "It is because it in the finest form of control. This is how I learned, way back when. I was given a spirit who was a professional dancer, and we were forced to work together." The memory still haunted her. Lady Renee Kelling was a brutal possessor, and Uncle Frode a brutal teacher. In fact her mad uncle Frode was the basis of her teaching techniques to that day, as she figured if he was able to craft one of the most powerful spiritist of her generation out of the experience, so could she. "The spirit provides knowledge about the art, the host provides knowledge about the body, and both must be present in order to dance. This is expression and motor control at its most delicate, which is why I'm making you walk that line."

She turned back to her students, who stood huffily several metres apart from one another. "Obviously that's not working. And apart from nailing you two together with ghostnails I cant think of a way to fix it. But before we get to such drastic measures, I think a demonstration might do you two good. Eliza?"

Madeira held out her hand in invitation. The ghost hesitated for a fraction of a tick, perhaps wisely uneasy about trapping herself in the body of a master, before blinking into Madeira. Instantly the Spiritist had her tapped down in her bones but remained in complete control of herself. The process took half a tick. Rocking back on her heels, and came forward with a clap. "Gah, that's brisk. Okay. We all paying attention?"

She walked to the middle of the empty floor, motioning for Chiona to join her. "We're going to start dry. Just the two of us, okay, Chiona?" She stepped closer to the woman and slipped her left hand around her waist and catching her right in hers. They were so close she could feel the heat of her body through her dress. Inside she was frantically replaying every piece of advice Madame Bella donna ever gave her, but outwardly she only smiled, placing Chiona left hand and her shoulder. "Memorize the rhythm of my body, Eliza, that'll be important later. Ready?"

This time she did not have the rhythm of her hands to keep her in step, so she measured her voice carefully. It was rough and untested, but she was not embarrassed. She lead Chiona into the simple partnered dance step that went with the song.

"Lavender blue, rosemary green
You're the prettiest lass that I've seen
Let the men stay, out in the storm
Whilst you and I, keep ourselves warm."

She was not good dancer, and Chiona was even worse. More than once they bumped hips and shoulders, and with every mistake she could see Chiona choke down a grumpy little chuckle. Madeira watched her closely, noticing that her attention had to be absorbed in order not to misstep. She was determined to get this right.

"Rosemary green, lavender blue
if I should die, you will come too
and when you do, as it may hap,
You shall be buried, under the tap;

Who told you so, pray tell me why?
That you might drink, when you are dry"


WC: 725

[Madeira Dusk]

They ended the short step with their bodies extended away from each other, connected by their right hands. Madeira pulled her closer and was disappointed when she pulled up short before crashing into her, but was heartened by the shine of mirth in her eyes.

"Okay, now we'll do this with Grace. Watch this really closely, Chiona. After this I want you to tell me what about my movement and my voice has changed, and what has stayed the same. Eliza, you're new at this so let me take the lead and feel how I'm balancing us. I need all of us to focus. Now, from the top."

She pulled Eliza forward in her body, laying the ghost alongside her mind and body in a tangle more intimate than a lovers. Madeira's soul had been used and abused enough that such silly things as sanctity of soul meant nothing to her anymore. She was completely desensitized to it. But Eliza struggled with the instinct to take over or pull away, and the two were at odds before Madeira was able to lock her down. But when they did her posture changed from stiff to fluid, and there was a delicacy to the way she held her neck and shoulders. When she opened her mouth to sing her voice was a nightingale's, not rough or operatic but somewhere in between. Holding Chiona's waist and hands she started to dance.

"Lavender blue, Rosemary green,
When I am king you shall be queen;
Who told you so, who told you so?'
Twas mine own heart, that told me so."

Though Madeira's dancing was much improved, Chiona's had not. The older woman's eyebrows were a straight line of concentration as she both watched Madeira's body and her own clumsy steps with laser focus. Eliza too was occupied with the strange sensation of Grace and the bizarre possession of a willing host. Madeira could feel her throat getting dry. She had put this lesson together for exactly this chance.

It was a terrible risk, to use magic around a master aurist. One never knew when their sight was active, and even then it was a gamble to know what they were focused on. For this reason Madeira never dared to use her secret mastery of hypnotism around anyone in the tower; even though her goal of seducing the daughter of the patriarch could be over in months or even weeks if she did. But finally she had her alone but for one witness, and both were completely distracted, absorbed and exhausted. This was her only chance.

Heat pulsed in her tongue as the dijed leaked steadily from her soul. Her voice was steady and rhythmic with the rhyming, already pleasantly hypnotic in a pedestrian way. Now it turned, twisting in the air and woven through with an unobtrusive emotional response. Love, she pressed into the woman in front of her, willing the feeling to simmer away in the lining of her thoughts and run electric through her skin.

"Lavender blue, Rosemary green,
When I am king you shall be queen"

She sang again, pressing feeling into the words until she could almost see them shimmer in the air between them like a physical thing. This was a gentle attack, a soft invasion. Love, it demanded in the quietest voice. Love me.

"Lavender blue, Rosemary green,
When I am king you shall be queen"

They were repeating the same four steps in a loop, but Chiona and the ghost didn't seem to notice. The look of concentration never left Chiona's face, but Madeira could see her eyes struggling to focus. She repeated the rhythmic words with the rhythmic steps, weaving the emotions through and around and over, until they were caught around her prey in a web. When she was satisfied she let the dijed go gently, letting it drain out of her voice in increments. Once it was done she moved to the next verse, and the next steps, and nobody seemed to notice that three chime blip of repetition.

Chiona stumbled on a step and laughed, looking up from her feet to catch Madeira's eye. The Spiritist smiled back, but there was no real laughter behind her. She was looking into Chiona's eyes, hoping to see one little spark of something deeper in there.

When I am king, her mind purred, willing to see any movement in the Dusk heir's soul, you shall be queen.

WC: 747

[Madeira Dusk]

Grades Awarded!

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Madeira Craven

Skills

• Singing: 4xp
• Teaching: 4xp
• Leadership: 3xp
• Seduction: 2xp
• Subterfuge: 2xp
• Dancing: 2xp
• Hypnotism: 1xp

Lores

• Teaching: graceful possession
• Teaching: the influences of Frode
• People: Eliza of the Ethereal Opera House
• Graceful Possession: fine motor control
• Leadership: demonstration of proper technique
• Chiona: low opinion of own abilities
• Subterfuge: setting up to fail
• Hypnotism: taking advantage of hypnotic rhythm

Awards & Retribution
+Item gained
+Trait recieved
-Injury
-Mizas spent

Notes
Notes here.