Unpleasant Thoughts

The Humblebee Patisserie.
This location is flooded with shallow, crystal clear water. The pastel-hued gravel of Nautilus Pompilus street gives way to colorful flagstone as one approaches the open front of this timber-framed, single-story building. Exterior wooden supports have been lovingly carved to resemble the gnarled exterior of trees and winding branches for a supporting lattice that sits above a quaint patio. Boughs of verdant ivy and purple clematis cling to the supports and hang down from the lattice, offering a distraction for insects that might otherwise be interested in the sweets. The storefront itself is brightly colored to match its surroundings, double glass doors propped open on sunny days to let the fresh smells of baked goods drift out into the streets. A sweet-sounding bell hangs poised atop the door's frame to announce the arrival of customers on poor weather days. The shop's cozy interior allows standing room for only a few visitors at a time to comfortably gather. A poppy-shaped lantern hangs from the low rounded ceiling, bathing the room in warm golden light. Dark wood floors offset the rose-gold interior walls where short shelves hold an assortment of curiosities and tiny sprouting planters all lovingly tended to. A simple counter and glass-front display houses the day's specials, and a chalkboard mounted overhead lists the specials of the month and how much they cost. A sign here suggests you READ SIGN! You see a sign here instructing you that WARES is the command to see what is for sale.
You see exits leading east (open door) and down (closed door).

They are a feathered trill kindly demigod changeling. Downy plumes of vibrant orange cascade in a tumble around their head, the cluster of feathers stopping just short of their shoulders and moving at the slightest breeze. A cluster of snow-white feathers grow near their right temple. A natural mask of downy black feathers have sprouted around their eyes, covering the upper portion of their face and fading in with the colorful orange feathers at the hairline and temples. A moderately-sized, crescent-shaped scar mars their right cheek, pink where it would otherwise be black. A hint of discolored flesh can be seen at the center of their sternum, mostly obscured by their clothing. Two tufts of feathers gather where their ears would normally be, adorned by long, curling feathers that react to their mood. Their eyes are wide and inquisitive, a stunning gray that looks almost blue against the bright orange and striking black feathers. They stand just shy of six foot even, with a thin, willowy build, their skin sandy and smooth. Hanging half-limp behind them are a pair of great apricot-colored wings, the covert feathers nearest to their back the same ebony-violet as the feathers that cover their brow and cheekbones. Their wings are sleek and shiny, evidence of recent grooming efforts. A shifting pearlescence graces their skin as they walk with the truefavour of Carakhan, Sculptor of Waves. A steel-hued scar traces along their cheek, gifted by Terentia, the Even Bladed, for their mettle in the field of battle. Soothing mists of water and light weave about them in a sparkling white veil, marking the truefavour of Lantra, the Empyreal.
They are wearing:
a starry wreath of celestial light set atop their head like a halo
a circlet of crystal thorns resting loosely atop their head
a vivid red-orange poppy tucked lovingly behind their left ear
the Mantle of Starlight which flows dreamily about their shoulders and back
a sleeveless black tunic which clings to their upper body flatteringly
mercurial Mysraian prayer beads pulled taut against their right wrist
a Glomdoring friendship bracelet which jingles softly on their left wrist
minty citrus incense beads pulled taut against their right wrist
a shifting, living poppy of copper petals worn delicately upon their left wrist
a driftwood ring of sea breezes fitted tightly to their left middle finger
simple white linen trousers which swish around their legs freely
Refined Boots of the Paladin, worn and weathered from use.

You hum softly to yourself.

The clouds overhead rumble ominously and bolts of lightning strike the ground, followed closely by peals of furious thunder.

You have emoted: Gurashi glances towards the window, then lowers their head, writing.

You sense the piercing eyes of Esei looking upon you.

You sense the passage of Esei to the east with a fluffy pair of ursine ears.
A flurry of blackthorn petals arrives from the east, thorny vines sprouting within the floral cloud and twining together to form the body of Esei, riding Dusan, the coruscant.

LOOKIT ESEI
Skin the color of mauve-tinted ebon and spotted with dark, delicate freckles like inverted stars across a night sky, they are a nimble shadowcaster faeling wyrden demigod changeling. Their eyes are the most disarming thing about them, wide and liquid dark with black feathery lashes to frame them, just a bit too innocent to be real. Their nose is straight, turning up at the tip, while their dusty plum lips contain a multitude of sharp teeth. Their black hair frames their face in curtain bangs, the rest pulled into a loose braid that swings between their shoulder blades. Their body is broad for a faeling, standing no more than three feet tall, with elegant limbs. Their artist's hands are delicate, each slender finger tipped with a black claw; their fingers and toes abruptly darken to pitch black at the tips, leaving it difficult to discern where their digits stop and claws begin. Their ears are rather short, tapering to an elegant point, darkening to black at the very tips, and occasionally flicking to listen to any noise. Their long, slender wings are vaguely in the form of an insect's, though it is hard to tell which, as they are completely made of shadow and slips of silvery light. When moving, their wings dislodge a flurry of ebon and silver motes that trail after them before quickly dissipating. Tattooed on their chest is an illustration of a cadaverous ribcage overgrown with ravishing black roses. Shadows cling adoringly to them, reluctant to surrender their grasp on one with the truefavour of Nocht, the Silent.

They are wearing:
an intricate, structured ensemble of dusk
a phantasmal shroud of shadows worn loosely around their shoulders
Ebon Prayer Beads of the Silent Lord wrapped around one wrist
a circlet of the Shee-Slaugh house delicately placed against their temple
a wedding armband of eternal night resting on their left bicep
a silvered leather scabbard tied loosely at their right hip
the Fingerblade of dha'Wyrden-cree attached to their left forefinger.

Esei gives a cat of black ink to you.

Fluttering as if caught by a breeze, the silvery threads of tinsel weave about in a haphazard pattern: conjuring new constellations and shapes as they glow from the sidereal light of the wreath's fine filaments.

You have emoted: Gurashi's gaze flicks up, and they accept the cat, moving her to their lap before they resume scribbling. "Hi hi."

Esei pats you in a friendly manner.

You pet a cat of black ink ingratiatingly.

A cat of black ink rubs up against you, purring like a cat.

You have emoted: Gurashi blinks tiredly and sits up, lowering their quill. "How are, how are?"

Esei shrugs helplessly.

In an airy, melodic voice, you ask, "Not good?"

You tilt your head curiously.

Esei ponders you thoughtfully, looking you up and down.

You have emoted: Gurashi watches placidly, legs drawn up as they sit at one of the indoor tables, rain battering against the windows outside.

Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk thinks to themself: ** Her screaming, unabating, the psychic pain in their memories like a slap - is that what He felt? **.

You have emoted: Gurashi's ears immediately flatten atop their head.

Esei crosses their arms, turning to look outside at the rain.

You have emoted: Gurashi's tired but friendly expression hardens a little. "It was probably worse," They answer flatly, face flushing a little.

With an ethereal, smoky lilt, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "...yes, I imagine."

You have emoted: Gurashi looks down at their book, expression twisting miserably. "Why do keeps thinking about it, thens, if you are not going to tell me anythings that know?" They ask next, voice wavering. "Or discuss a ways to helps Thems, or, a solutions..."

You have emoted: Gurashi flaps their wings. "To think about the pains and then dwell on it leads to nothing but more sufferings," They insist. "Must finds a way, to try to ease it, yes."

You fidget impatiently.

You have emoted: Gurashi seems anxious in their seat, the metal creaking as they awkwardly balance there.

You think to yourself: *an anxious thrum - did say too much? no - it is O-K, to defend oneself too*.

Quietly, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk asks, "...Gurashi, you know my Lord and the Lady Empyreal are crechemates, yes?"

You think to yourself: *the screams echo endlessly, the Goddess's pained voice like some terrible symphony*.

Weakly, you ask, "Yes - you said Someone... Someones? Died, during that times, when..." They gesture. "Someones close to Thems?"

You have emoted: Gurashi's plumage ripples and they shiver, holding their knees gently with their hands, watching.

Not turning away from the rain, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "...yes. A Sibling of Theirs."

Wings flapping, you say, "You said They was not recorded in the histories."

You have emoted: Gurashi frowns. "That is not right."

Warbling weakly, you say, "Everybody deserves to be remembered, yes."

Displeasure drips from the distant yowl of a cat, whose pained and frustrated voice echoes down the spiralling streets and alleyways this night.

The pointed tips of Esei's ears twitch to some errant sound.

You have emoted: Gurashi watches Esei as they stare out the window. "What was Their names?"

With an ethereal, smoky lilt, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "...I know - but They still remember. And I do too, now, for what little I am actually aware."

Esei looks back to you, eyes sharpening. "...I do not think I would be allowed to tell you, even if I wanted to."

You have emoted: Gurashi frowns. "You do too?"

With an ethereal, smoky lilt, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "Only a little. What He has said of..."

Esei's voice tapers off into silence as they pause, simply gazing at you.

You have emoted: Gurashi jumps at the nearness of the lightning bolt, the loudness of the thunder that follows.

You have emoted: Gurashi looks outside, then back at Esei. "I am sorry," They say finally. "That other Peoples died. It is not fair or right, that They were not all remembered, lost to mortals like me."

With an ethereal, smoky lilt, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "...life is hardly fair."

You have emoted: Gurashi sniffles, then nods, resting their hands on the table.

You have emoted: Gurashi turns their attention now out to the rain as it pours. "Sad for Them Boths."

Esei pets Bizirik, the leothin ingratiatingly.
Bizirik, the leothin stares blankly at Esei. After a moment its tail lifts once then thumps back against the ground with potential delight.

You have emoted: Gurashi sways a little in their seat, the metal creaking beneath them. "Is safe to assumes He hurt that muchly. If not more," They say at last.

Esei nods silently, placing a hand over their heart as if remembering something.

With an ethereal, smoky lilt, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "...yes."

You tilt your head curiously at Esei.

A flash! Another! And another still! The storm clouds above shudder from the onslaught of lightning, their silvery down woven with hidden scripture illuminated from within.

It is now the 6th of Avechary, 594 years after the Coming of Estarra.
There are 6 days until the New Moon

Aural Tildarmin yells, "Hail to the Dragonslayer, St. Hamos! Glory to New Celest which repels dragon and the Taint alike! Praise be the Light!"

You have emoted: Gurashi watches Esei before looking off, attention drawn to the town crier as midnight passes.

Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk thinks to themself: ** an echo of a memory, His voice rising through the darkness of their mind... "And it has taught Me what it is to truly love and care for another." **.

You stare at Esei, eyes wide.

You have emoted: Gurashi's plumage quivers as they watch, eyes wide and unblinking.

The scent of lightning, burnt yet crystalline, salts the air, your nostrils noting its aroma just before the initial crack of thunder echoes across the roiling skies.

Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk thinks to themself: ** a shiver running through the normally steady waters - a psychic shock; surprise, a deep aching -loss-, a tightly contained r a g e so powerful it tastes like blood in their mouth. **.

Softer, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "Yes, He does."

You have emoted: Gurashi sets their jaw as they watch, feathery ears slowly flattening atop their head. Their discomfort is plain to see, wings flapping once, making the chair creak.

Esei exhales slowly, allowing a long fluid breath to creep from their lungs.

You think to yourself: *their own feelings alone are too great, let alone trying to envision those of a Divines - they could not begin to imagine, could not truly dare to try*.

You have emoted: Gurashi's eyes glaze over, and finally they unfold their legs from their seat, gathering their papers. "I need to go," They murmur suddenly, hurriedly.

Bizirik, the leothin snuffles, staying seated on the ground as Gurashi gathers up their things.

Esei creases their brow in a frown.

Bizirik, the leothin stretches languidly.

With an ethereal, smoky lilt, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "...Gurashi, are you well?"

Esei pets Bizirik, the leothin ingratiatingly.
Bizirik, the leothin stares blankly at Esei. After a moment its tail lifts once then thumps back against the ground with potential delight.

Bizirik, the leothin leans their head into the hand, looking pleased. Gurashi nods, waving a hand apologetically, reaching out for Esei but not actually touching them. "Yes, I just must works," They explain. They pull their cloak out, lifting the hood so it wraps over their head-feathers and partially shields their wings as they shuffle into the streets.