video — un: starburst.

[valeas]

( Hello, Eastbounders.

Once again, a dynamic and alarming duo greets you, with no better news than last time.

In fact, it doesn't seem to be an announcement at all.

The first thing the jostled communicator picks up is... a sound. Guttural, croaked, agonising. It belongs to Lady Arabella, throwing herself upon what becomes quite obviously Wrath's frame. Her mouth opens wider, and wider still, as though she might want to swallow him whole.

The sound becomes a scream, unending.

Wrath's golden gaze stares at Arabella like one might survey a mildly interesting change in the scenery — his own expression impassive as her grip tears the buttons from his shirt.

His companion, on the other hand, reacts a bit more angrily, Emilia's initial concern shifting into something more vicious. As Arabella attempts to latch on to Wrath however she can, Emilia strikes back at her, prepared for a fight. Except it never quite comes: no sooner Arabella is thrown off, she stops,

backpedaling into the communicator that turns the video black. )


NOTE: Again, the second link leads to Grudge-y things. The video is short and choppy and hectic, taking place not long after the assassination attempt on Arabella. Wrath and Emilia helped in the rescue efforts and were, uh, rewarded. For more details, feel free to read here.

Comments

[matermali]

That would suggest that the influence does not apply only to her. If she were to utter them in front of others from the city, and they were affected? The implications are disastrous.

You say there was no magical residue on the charm... What of what of its memory? The note, especially. Pen to paper is an intimate gesture, requiring thought and intent. It has its own history. Perhaps I could read it, or even the charm.

[ This group is full of people who seem to know magic, and these two seem to be familiar enough with the concept of demons and spells. She probably doesn't need to offer herself; the very idea scares her. Angered by her fear, she offers anyway, but part of her hopes that this has already been attempted by someone else. ]

It may lead to nothing. Has anyone tried this, or would you permit me to make an attempt?

[valeas]

( her bone-deep skepticism has gone nowhere. she is slow to trust, if she trusts at all, but this world leaves her in a state of negotiation. negotiating her personal lines, the risks she'll take, her own anger. she's well aware of the talent within their hodgepodge group, much as this username is unfamiliar to her.

she forces it all aside, however, and decides this on pragmatism. )

No, no one has tried this in particular. If someone can glean something that Wrath and I have not, it is to our best interest. The bouquet is with me in Eidris, the note with Wrath in Minaras.

How would this work, exactly?

[matermali]

I am in Minaras, and so the note may be easier to find. I need to be able to touch it. It isn't always something that I can control, and so I may live through a poignant memory from whomever sent it. Or I may only know taste, or sound, or sight. I may experience nothing at all. I make no promises.

Too, I could attempt to read her, but she would need to be willing. I think the tools a safer attempt for now.

[ She wouldn't need to be willing, but Vanessa has no wish to assault this woman's agency any more than it already has been. Nobody deserves that. Let her have a little peace for the moment. ]

Forgive me, in my initial fright I did not introduce myself. I am Vanessa Ives. Not headless, nor a doll, I do so swear.

[ Perhaps not the time to be cracking a joke, Miss Ives. ]

[valeas]

We are in agreement.

( She'll let her and Wrath sort out the note business, frustratingly aware there isn't much she can do from Eidris.

The ghost of a smile touches her lips, grimly wry, not that Vanessa can see it. It is exactly the time to crack a joke. At least, her conversation partner seems receptive of it, fond of witty banter that she is. There's hardly been room for it, considering... everything. )

I am Emilia di Carlo.

A relief, to be sure. Best to get ahead of the issue and leave it to the Horsemen.

( A pause, before she adds: ) Were you among those in the Mouse House that helped secure our passage?

[matermali]

[ She would truly like to see the flowers, especially if they aren't native to the city. One matter at a time, though. Should the note not offer anything, then it may be best to try everything together. There's no perfect science to it. Even with training, she feels blind on the matter.

The teasing response makes Vanessa's lip pinch momentarily, and the tickle of amusement is all the more striking when following so closely behind terror. When emotions are so heightened, it's too easy for all of them to rush in at once, after all.

More seriously, though, as even the joke does make one think... ]

A beautiful name. Not fitting for a city where I fear the Horsemen have already attempted to raze.

[ The reminder of that strange little venture in the Mouse House scratches at the back of her mind. Nobody has really addressed it since they've left, but then everyone is quite about problem solving, and the problems up above sparkle all the brighter. ]

I was. A less grand entrance to the city than your own, I suppose, but I found it far less intimidating than the citadel proper. I almost miss it. Have you been below?

[valeas]

( The Horsemen, a Huntress, and more.

She would not find herself without armor for any of it. Any of them. There is no edge to her she will not whet against stone if it means another weapon for her arsenal, if it means she succeeds. Wily, wary, and flame-bright, Emilia shakes off the lingering vestiges of her unease.

And focuses.

Her amusement ebbs in tandem with Vanessa's, the quiet moment of respite having served its purpose. )

No, not yet. But as I understand, it stands separate from Serthica in more ways than one. It is not so impossible to tell the living from the dead. ( It stands forgotten and disdained, but not so unnatural. )

[matermali]

Yes, the air down there is different, and not just for the grit that rakes at the lungs. In the depths, where hope is overcast by shadows, it seems that death has no need to hide.

Can you normally sense such things? Spirits?

[valeas]

The realm of spirits is not my forte, ( is a deft attempt to not get too deeply into what is ) but I would recommend a member of our group called Wei Wuxian should you seek a greater understanding of their function in this world. He is well-versed in the subject, and has been here for well over a year. ( since this all started, really, and when in doubt, delegate. )

[matermali]

[ An elegant dodge. Vanessa can respect it enough to leave it, for now. ]

I am not accustomed to other spiritualists, but it seems we have no shortage. We may have spoken, if he was the one to alert us to the strangeness of the citadel's dead...and living.

Have you suffered just as long of a journey as he?

[valeas]

( The question gives her pause. It stings, to do the math. To know her best efforts haven't gotten her any closer to a working beacon. Nowhere close to returning home to her vengeance. She has not lost her resolve, has not lost focus. But she's been made to face the ways in which this world gets the best of her. )

It has been many moons. Not as long as he, but close to a year, I should think.

( Keeping track can be difficult in this place. )

[matermali]

[ Vanessa has also been denied vengeance. It's important for her not to let the need for it soften, should she be forced to spend just as much time here. Her memory is long, fortunately. Unfortunately? ]

That does not bode well for my future here, but at least we may take comfort in each other during such a stretch of imprisonment. How much worse it could be were we truly alone in this.