Humour Me

Lovingly running his fingers over the beads looped about his forearm, Avaris stares
up at the sky, antennae undulating with thought.

You think to yourself: "Perhaps I am simply too zealous. All of Celest seems to believe hugs and
affection to be the correct reaction to the corrupt. Why should I believe my stance to be the
correct one, I suppose?"

A low, buzzing note of displeasure shudders through the air about Avaris as he
lowers his gaze to the celadon prayer beads, frowning.

You think to yourself: "I do not think that will eradicate the taint, or the Wyrd. It is simply
inviting them in."
(The Avowing): Lantra says, "You appear pensive, My Avaris. Does something weigh upon you?"

Avaris's antennae flick upright as he raises his head, curling his hand back from
the beads guiltily.

(The Avowing): You say, "Ah. Somewhat, my Lady. I do not think my speaking of it will be welcomed. I
do not wish to make any of Yours more uncomfortable than I already have."

(The Avowing): Lantra says, "I see. Then I will trust your Wisdom on the matter."

Soothing winds blow in with a calming sigh, drawing a veil of water and light that reveals a hazy
figure standing alone in the mist.

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "Are you so swift in your search of conflict?"

Startled, Avaris moves rapidly from his cross-legged position to that of his
typical posture of reverence, one knee pressed upon the ground. Bowing his head hastily, he clasps
his hands across his chest, antennae squirming with mild discomfort. "I...I was not searching for
it, my Lady. I promise You, this time I was not."

There is a visible softening of the lights that wreathe a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as
your words are spoken, twinkling with a subtler radiance. "I see. Then what weighs upon you so
heavily?"

A faint breath vents from between the invisible seams of Avaris's featureless face
as he considers the question. Lifting a weighty shoulder in a slow shrug, he replies, "Much the same
as ever, my Lady. Sometimes I think that I am too zealous in my views and actions." Lifting his
upper right hand free, he gestures, the motion forceful, a growing vehemence in his resonating
words. "I know that being kind can sway the fallen to the Light, my Lady - I do. But, I...I just do
not think it should be the only approach. I cannot abide seeing twisted, corrupted monstrosities
being lavished with affection and treated like beloved companions."

The soft mist that swirls around a veiled figure shrouded in starlight turns contemplative,
considering as the Goddess says, "You sense that all of the city of Light might follow the path of
Raziela, while few take the path of Methrenton or Shakiniel, so to speak."

Avaris's pointed chin dips down in a reluctant nod, the sentiment bleeding into his
voice. "Most, at least, my Lady. I feel there is an imbalance. All of the Supernals should have
Their teachings adhered to, venerated, not solely Lady Raziela."

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "I wonder. Which Supernal's teachings are most akin to your understanding of the
Light?"

Glancing at a veiled figure shrouded in starlight surreptitiously via several of
the smaller markings within his wings, Avaris places his hand back upon its brethren. "I...Feel that
is not too difficult an answer to guess at, my Lady."

"Humor Me," a veiled figure shrouded in starlight says simply.

Immediately, Avaris replies with an even, "Lord Methrenton, my Lady." He pauses,
and then amends, "Though I feel an affinity for Lady Shakiniel and Lord Japhiel, as well."

"That is well," a veiled figure shrouded in starlight answers, the mists swirling about Her
shimmering with lambent light. "The Forge of Methrenton can stoke many a holy flame into action,
giving renewed purpose. It is an admirable path to follow."

Tracking the flow of the misty currents with his light-forged eyes, Avaris dips his
head in agreement. "As are they all, my Lady. Your Supernals are very fine beings to emulate. You
raised Them well."

There is a maternal tenderness to Her words as a veiled figure shrouded in starlight speaks,
replying, "Eventru and I spent many years by their side, in truth. We had not anticipated to become
so close to beings that others viewed as inferior to Us Elders, unfinished and left as they were.
There is a pride to be had in seeing how they have come into their own, even if not as Divine, but
as great beings in their own right."

You think to yourself: A rising warmth, kindled by the simple pleasure of hearing Her speak so
fondly, of Her satisfaction in a motherly role.

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "I am told that upon Eventru's return to the Basin of Life, He healed Raziela from a
terrible affliction. Even He, for all the bluster the others so maligned Him for, cared deeply for
the Supernals."

Antennae twitching towards a veiled figure shrouded in starlight, Avaris listens
attentively in polite silence. "That speaks well of Him indeed, my Lady. As does Your high opinion
of Him." He pauses, as if weighing speaking further, then ventures carefully, "Were You very fond of
Him?"

"I was," a veiled figure shrouded in starlight replies evenly, motes of light twirling about Her
form. "Even if others were decidedly not. He possessed a magnetic charisma that drew others to Him,
and the will and strength to command action in times of great difficulty and duress. His was an
unwavering conviction, one that I am certain navigated New Celest through many a storm, in His time
here."

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "Even among Elders, He was polarizing. And yet that is true of most of the Firsts,
in truth."

The sun playing across the alabaster of his flared jawline as he tilts his head,
Avaris's mien grows thoughtful as he absorbs the information. "Charisma is something that has ever
fascinated me. It seems, I think, something that people are simply born with - Or Someone is made
with, in the Elder's case. I do not know if it can ever be learned, as much can be." Freeing a hand
to gesture gently at the city that surrounds them, he asks, "Do You think Celest would be different,
now, if He were here today?"

"It would change in some manner, though I cannot say how it would manifest." As a veiled figure
shrouded in starlight considers the query, stardust whirls about her in a shimmering array of cosmic
energies. "At the very least, I would be pleased to see the Exalted once more. He was My First, but
I would call Him among My friends, and trusted confidantes. We were peers." To the earlier question,
as if belated recalling it, She says merely, "We all have Our gifts, yes. Those with charisma
possess a unique one. I would not count Myself among Their number."

With the careful, delicate manner of one picking their way across a floor strewn
with broken glass, Avaris says, "I do not think that You lack charisma, my Lady. You do not share
the same type as He did, but there is a magnetism to You all the same, simply...Gentler. I think
that people are drawn to You without knowing it." Tapping a clawed fingertip against the curve of
his armoured chest, he asks, curiosity bright in the chorus of his voice, "Who would You call Your
friends, my Lady?"

Swiftly, Avaris adds, "If You are comfortable saying so, of course. I do not wish
to pry."

There is a long, sustained silence as the starry motes slow in their rhythm around a veiled figure
shrouded in starlight in reply. What seems, at first, to be mere contemplation stretches into
something almost uncomfortable, until at last the Goddess says merely, "You are kind to say so. I am
pleased that the Order finds themselves drawn to Me, such as I am."

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "There are those I respect within the Basin of Life, and those I do not. Let Us say
that."

At the lengthening span of contemplation, the dense red of Avaris's antennae flows
down into a steep frown as he slowly raises his head to regard a veiled figure shrouded in starlight
searchingly. "Such as You are," he repeats in a voice that verges on the flat, while remaining
courteous. "My Lady, what do You mean by that?" At the latter response, he dips his head in a nod,
not intent on pursuing the topic.

"It is no matter," a veiled figure shrouded in starlight replies, the answer carried on a sigh of
soothing winds. The mists about Her shift and churn, Her calm voice continuing, "And what of your
friendships? Have they weathered the aftermath of your trial?"

The angle of Avaris's antennae, if anything, grows more severe at a veiled figure
shrouded in starlight's response. "Respectfully, my Lady, I disagree. I think it is a very great
matter, indeed." Inhaling a slow breath, he lowers his face once more. "But I will not pursue it."
The 'For now' goes unspoken as he considers the question posed to him, a faintly chagrined sound
vibrating in his throat. "I do not think that I have very many friends, my Lady. However, those that
seem to care somewhat for me have been...Upset, to varying degrees."

Lifting a shoulder in a small shrug, Avaris says, "I do not know if they will all
weather my selfishness, but I am trying to repair what I can. Immaculate Nabithia, Lady Aeldra,
Cheliyi - All are not happy with me."

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "I see. Have you had much success in your endeavors?"

Silent for a time, Avaris eventually gives his head a small shake. "No. Immaculate
Nabithia is still angry with me, though a shade less so. Lady Aeldra was in tears at me earlier this
month. Cheliyi, at least, says that she can be mollified with baking." He pauses, uttering a brief,
frustrated sound. "Though I upset her near immediately after."

"Time is one of the Basin's greatest healers. The wound is still fresh. Give it time to mend," a
veiled figure shrouded in starlight offers gently, the mists about her sparkling with a soothing
radiance.

Bowing his head to a veiled figure shrouded in starlight's Wisdom, Avaris replies,
"Yes, my Lady. I will try not to inflict too many in the meantime. Is there any point in my asking
You if You would like me to do anything for You?"

"Continue to attempt to mend that which has been broken in your absence," a veiled figure shrouded
in starlight says in answer, Her veiled countenance turning to look upon you thoughtfully. "Bonds of
trust are fragile, My Avaris. I would not have you lose such out of a desire to strengthen your bond
to Me. For My Order is an extension of Me, and what I am."

Mists of water and light shimmer about a veiled figure shrouded in starlight as a calm, feminine
voice whispers, "And allow yourself the grace to gather yourself and try again, if your first
attempts do not succeed."

Despite the downturned manner in which Avaris holds his head, he manages to set it
at an angle that subtly suggests a growing stubbornness - Which abruptly collapses as he sighs,
relenting. In a faintly resigned, dutiful tone, he answers, "Yes, my Lady. I will try. I cannot
promise You that I will succeed. You know how I am with people."

"Would you have preferred I asked you to trust in your own Wisdom?" a veiled figure shrouded in
starlight asks, the motes around her twinkling with a glimmer of something akin to humor.

Holding up a long, plated palm as if to ward the notion aware, Avaris's voice is
slightly pained, though tinged more strongly with gentle mirth. "Please, my Lady. Have mercy."

Washing over a veiled figure shrouded in starlight in a curtain of water and mist, the Goddess
recedes into the aether as quiet laughter ripples around Her with celestial light, vanishing in a
whirl of white.

A gentle rain whispers into existence, bearing with it a passing veil of mist; when it vanishes, the
shimmering figure is no longer to be found.

Avaris lowers his hand, eyes awash with shining motes of light.

You think to yourself: The sound of Her laughter, gently gathered close, so that it might be
replayed, as a favourite song.