Disappointment

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk asks you, "And how do
your studies go?"

Again, the delay in response, though this time Rhalkyr's silence is a more subdued
one. His eyes are more shaded even than usual, the hint of furrowed brows drawn down in a frown
casting the glimmering discs in deeper shadow. "Mmh. Unsure. Task, for Blackpetal, difficult.
Learning, but..." He lifts a hand, making a loose, grasping motion. "Find, no solid, answer.
Unhappy."

Not unkindly, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk asks, "What is the task She has
set before you?"

Abruptly, and somewhat eerily, the voice that emanates from Rhalkyr's fearsome mask
is that of a smooth, cultured female's - Distinctly not that of the Lady of Thorn's, but not a world
away from Her voice, all the same. "Your first task for Me will be to discover the origins of the
Greev."

Esei stares at you, lips tightening. "Mm," they say slowly. "Have you watched our play production on
the subject?"

Somewhat dispiritedly, Rhalkyr nods, sinking slowly into a crouch, huddling close
to himself, arms wrapped about his knees. "Yes. Spoke, with Xenthos, Evette, Afollia. Last, did not,
go well."

Esei gently places a hand on your wrist, careful to appear non-threatening. "Tell me, where are you
lost?"

The touch elicits no twitches, no spasming of muscle, but instead Rhalkyr's fingers
shift to rest lightly upon Esei's hand for a moment, before lowering once more. "No, definite,
answer. Xenthos, does not, know. Evette, does not, know. Afollia, does not, know. Cannot, discover,
origin, of Greev, think." A long pause, and then, more quietly, a thread of misery winding its way
through the guttural words, "Asked, how to show, gratitude, to Blackpetal. Told, to join, Her
Order." The immense mounds of his shoulder swell, growing taut as he hunches them, chin lowering to
his knees. "Torn."

Softly, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "There is no true definite
answer to the origin of the Greev, because its origin is complicated by itself."

Esei pauses, sighing gently. "You do not have to join Her Order if you do not wish to do so. Lady
Haruspex can be... overbearing, in that manner, at times."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "In my studies,
and to the best of my knowledge, the Greev -is- part of the Wyrd. It still exists today."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "When it was
cast down by the Lady, it was not killed, or discarded. It had completed its tah'vrai to Her liking,
and was put back to rest."

A despondent sigh hisses forth from Rhalkyr's mask, his fingers rubbing back and
forth across his shins in slow, repetitive motions. "Yes. Greev, is, the Glomdoring. The Glomdoring,
is, the Lady. The Lady, is, the Greev."

Gently, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "The Greev is a safety measure,
a response, for stagnation."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk asks you, "Would you
like some tea?"

Rhalkyr angles his jaw up towards Esei, darting a glance at them. "Do not, know.
Have not, had. Is good?"

Smiling, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "There are many kinds."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "Hm, I'll start
you with something simple."

a dark tea cup adorned with wyrden fauna (filled with a calming meditation tea)

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says to you, "It is
best when savored."

Rhalkyr accepts the cup with no small degree of hesitation, fingers twitching off
and on the warm surface as he brings the brew up to his mask, and sniffs, audibly. Regarding the
liquid dubiously, he shoots a glance at Esei, and grunts. Twisting away, so that his face is hidden
from Esei, he pulls his mask up just enough so that his mouth, presumably, is bared. Leaning over
the cup, he extends his tongue and dips it into the steaming liquid, only to jerk back with a
faintly offended grunt at the heat of it.

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "...try
sipping?"

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "Lapping at it
is not quite..."

Esei gestures vaguely.

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "Productive."

Staring at the cup with immense suspicion, now, Rhalkyr lets out a low, distorted
growl of displeasure, rising and falling in pitch for a time in a tremelo. Cautiously, wary as a
scalded cat, he lowers his lips to the edge of the cup and sips, noisily. Grunting, he twitches his
head to one side, minutely, then the other way, swishing the liquid about from cheek to cheek.

Rhalkyr swallows audibly, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few
times as he mulls over the flavour. "Why, warm?"

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "It is usually
brewed in a pot designed for tea, and served warm."
-
In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "Well. Some can
be served cold, but those are iced."

Rhalkyr peers into the cup once more, as if attempting to discern the ingredients
by sight alone. "Tastes, strange. Bad, water?"

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "No, not bad
water."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "When water is
heated, it essentially leeches the flavors out of things and into the water itself."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "So it is
flavored, in unique and interesting ways."

Rhalkyr cocks his head at the cup, as if skeptical of this fact. Dubiously, he
sniffs at it once more. "What...Things?"

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "For this
particular tea... lemon balm, sage, and lavender."

Rhalkyr prods at the warm liquid with a somewhat less than ideally clean finger,
before flicking the droplets away, mystified. "Eat, lavender..?"

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "The flower
itself is no longer in the tea, just its flavor."

Esei sips oolong tea from a dark tea cup adorned with wyrden fauna.

Suddenly in a brighter tone, sparkling with hope and fresh inspiration, Rhalkyr
asks, excitedly, "Meat tea?"

Esei blinks.

Esei ponders the situation.

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "I believe that
is just... boiling meat and using the aftermath."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "I do have blood
tea."

[[Esei gives Rhalkyr the WRONG BOTTLE]]

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says to you, "My blood
tea."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says to you, "My tlaye
- my wife - enjoys it very much."

Somewhat less dubiously this time around, perhaps due to the enticement of the
familiarity of blood, Rhalkyr sniffs at the bottle, before taking a very, very cautious sip.

You take a drink of white tea from an onyx rose and ravenwood tea bottle.
As you sip the white tea, your thoughts become clearer.
You sample this white tea, tart juniper fluttering across your
tongue followed by bitter wormwood before being soothed by the light,
silvery flavor of faeleaf. Oddly, your lips and tongue become briefly
numb after swallowing.

(The Shadow Kindred): Esei says, "Wait."

(The Shadow Kindred): Esei says, "Did i give you the wrong tea."

(The Shadow Kindred): You say, "Esei."

(The Shadow Kindred): Esei says, "Appears so."

(The Shadow Kindred): You say, "Did you just poison me for real."

(The Shadow Kindred): Esei says, "I gave you t he ACTUAL poison tea."

(The Shadow Kindred): Esei says, "Gfsghuehgre."

(The Shadow Kindred): Esei says, "SORRY SORRY."

(The Shadow Kindred): Esei says, "BRAIN EMPTY NO THOUGHT."

(The Shadow Kindred): You say, "No this is perfect."

Esei stares blankly into space.

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "That is...
the wrong tea."

Slowly, with the air of a man resigned to his fate, Rhalkyr tips the bottle back
and drains a prodigious amount, shoulder set with grim deterimination.

[[sip x10]]

Esei opens their mouth, then closes it, staring at you.

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "...it can't
kill you."

Lowering the bottle, Rhalkyr is silent for a span of time that stretches
uncomfortably long, before he utters an indistinct grunt. Thickly, even more mangled than usual,
with a numbed tongue, he says, "Disappointed, Blackpetal?"

Esei places their hand on your shoulder. "No," they say gently. "I made a mistake, that is all."

You think to yourself: Shame, rolling in as a thick, choking fog that saps the strength from the
creatures that lay listlessly upon the woven floor of the jungle, self-reproach and loathing dense
in the air.

Rhalkyr stares at the new bottle at length, his face still turned away from Esei.
"Is, proper poison?"

With a serious cadence, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk asks you, "Hovesadire
li, atliya li tloka. Tlawi, muyari hovesadire?"

Esei clears their throat to translate for themselves. "I severely grieve the mistake I made, and I
speak the truth. Please, accept this apology?"

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

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says to you, "She is
not disappointed. Neither am I. It was unintentional, and this is not poisoned."

Holding the bottle, which is dwarfed in Rhalkyr's massive hand, his eyes do not
stray from the vessel for a long time. Eventually, he rumbles, in an odd tone of voice, "No,
apology. Not, fault." A pause, and then, more softly, threaded through with sorrow, and shame,
"Disappointment, possible, still." With that, he brings the bottle to his mouth and takes a long
draw, not even bothering to sniff it this time.

Esei's face twists uncomfortably, just for a moment, before smoothing out again. "As you wish."

Tilting his head aside, Rhalkyr holds the bottle up so that he can examine it with
renewed interest, tongue working against the inside of his lips in a thoughtful manner. Grunting, he
takes another, graceless swig, and makes a sound of appreciate. "Is good. Gratitude, Warden. What,
prey, prefer?"

Esei runs their finger along the flat edge of their athame. "People prey, or...?"

Rhalkyr makes a fluttering motion with his free hand. "Eating, prey."

Esei ponders the situation.

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "I haven't
decided. Near everything."

Rhalkyr nods in a sagacious, approving manner. "Wise."

A wry smile spreads across Esei's face.

Esei reaches out and touches you.

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "You are
quieter than usual."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "I have not
upset you overmuch, have I?"

In the midst of lifting the opposite shoulder to Esei's touch, the second portion
of Esei's words cause him to snap about to face Esei, Rhalkyr simultaneously flipping his mask down
to cover his mouth once more. The eyes, however, are as clear and readable as ever, bright with a
commingled glitter of concern, regret and a messy tangle of other, subtler emotions. Gently, moving
without haste, he rests a massive, calloused hand upon Esei's forearm, squeezing ever so slightly.
"Not, upset, from you." He sets the bottle onto the ground, and brings his free hand to tap it
against his chest. "Only, love, and warmth, from you. No, worry."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk asks, "Then what, jata
amo, is wrong?"

His touch flinches away at the question, though Rhalkyr is conscious enough of the
possible interpretations of the act to pat Esei reassuringly before he withdraws the hand entirely.
Turning aside, presenting the strange, ferocious profile of his masked face, he lowers his head in
evident shame. His voice, when he speaks, is quiet, subdued. "Elder, Afollia. Rhalkyr, blasphemed,
against, most Beloved, Blackpetal." He hunches in on himself, as if struck, shivering. His next word
is a soft rasp, quiet as a dead, dried leaf hissing over stone. "Failure."

Softly, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "Explain, to me, in more depth,
what you are trying to tell me."

Esei's eyes are abyss-dark, but calm, and certain, and unwavering.

The blunt, calloused pads of Rhalkyr's fingers begin to drum a rapid, agitated beat
against his shins as he stares at his feet. "Was asked, to tell, thoughts, on Greev. Did not,
convey, correctly. Elder, Afollia, much angered. Think, was going, to kill. Thought, was insulting,
Blackpetal. Suggesting, less, than perfection. Mistake." Again, that word, the hiss of it this time
rougher, sharper, as rusted, jagged metal dragged across flesh. "Failure."

Esei sighs softly. "A single mistake does not constitute failure," they say. "Did you correct
yourself?"

Esei's fingers gently press into your shoulder, making minute circling motions.

Cheliyi enters from the northwest, a thin sheen of water rippling outward from every step.

Cheliyi steps in with a grimace, and firmly presses a package in the form of an aquatic waterbomb
into your hands, before leaving just as quickly.

Cheliyi gives a package in the form of an aquatic waterbomb to you.

Cheliyi departs to the northwest, each step sending a ripple of water outwards across the surface.

The muscles beneath Esei's fingertips are as taut as steel cables, though beneath
the calming ministrations, they begin to ease somewhat - only to snap into singing masses of
thrumming tension as the mugwump darts in, a low, ragged snarl erupting from Rhalkyr's throat like
the cracking, tearing sound of a vast bough being ripped apart. All over his form, muscles ripple
and twitch, spasming in convulsions of barely suppressed violence, which diminish gradually as the
intruder disappears. He stares in the direction of the departed mugwump for a long time, the package
entirely ignored.

Not unkindly, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "Easy, jata amo."

Slowly, but surely, the savage, bubbling growl recedes, fading to a displeased
rumble that vibrates the skin beneath Esei's touch. Eventually, Rhalkyr calms enough to flick a
glance at the package, though he immediately dismisses it, returning his gaze to the ground. "Tried.
Damage, done. Said, blasphemed, before, Her Avatar."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk asks you, "What was it
you said, specifically?"

Esei tips their head towards you, patient.

Rhalkyr twitches his hand back and forth in a faintly frustrated motion. "Much.
Said, Greev, flawed. Failure. With, many words. Her Avatar, interpreted, as saying, She, had made,
mistake. Was, imperfect. Flawed. Failure."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "People can
misinterpret you."

Rhalkyr jerks a shoulder once more, allowing, "Can." He continues, though, and
says, "Not, Her Avatar."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "Her Avatar is a
person, with opinions, who can make mistakes, same as me, and you."

Esei gently tips your face towards them, eyes much less gentle. "I can see that this is causing you
great amounts of pain," they whisper, eyes darting over your features, frowning slightly. "You must
understand that her decline of your apology is not your fault."

Sternly, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "Do not blame yourself for the
actions of others, even if they include or pertain to you."

Rhalkyr turns his head to look at Esei, and even with the screen of his mask, it is
clear that he is utterly appalled at this suggestion, and shocked, his eyes wide. Scandalised, he
whispers, "No! She would not, choose, imperfection. Avatar, of Her, is, as Her." As if worried at
being overheard - and indeed, he darts a glance about the area as if searching for unseen onlookers -
he makes shushing motions, gently.

Esei lets out a soft sigh.

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says, "Maybe not
imperfect. But not infallible."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "Not a
single one of us is infallible, and we would be foolish to think otherwise."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says to you, "Do not
be foolish, jata amo."

Esei lets out a short, soft sound that sounds like a mix between a sigh and a laugh. "And yes, she
is one of the Lady's Avatars, that much is indisputable. But she? Is not the Lady, despite her
closeness, and essence."

Still, Rhalkyr shoots occasional glances at the ceiling, the vines, at every
possible nook and alcove that a spider or shadow might lurk within, worry clear in his vibrantly
green eyes. "Would like, very much, not be foolish." He makes calming, soothing motions, faintly
distressed himself. "Will, be heard. Lady, may grow, angry."

Esei folds their wings around your body, wrapping you in a feathered embrace.

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says to you, "Please,
be at ease. Let Her be angry at me, and not you, in this.

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk says to you, "The best
way to make amends, might be to Her directly. A letter might not be remiss."

Rhalkyr grows abruptly still at the feathered embrace, though it is a lack of
motion born from surprise, rather than tension. He relaxes palpably, immediately comforted, and runs
the fingertips of his hand reverently by the enveloping pinions, brushing them lightly as the kiss
of the sun at dawn. Firmly, in a voice solid as bedrock, he states, "No, anger, at you. Would never,
allow, if can stop." Tenderly, with a gentleness that is almost absurd in a creature so hulking and
brutish, he touches the tips of his two foremost fingers to Esei's cheek, fleeting and light as the
caress of a summer breeze, then withdraws his hand. "Will consider, letter. Better, with words, when
written."

Esei's lips quirk into a smile. "I have suffered, arguably, from worse before," they say gently. "It
would not be the first thing I have ever sacrificed, nor will it be the last." They press their open
left palm kindly against your face, much like a parent might. "I trust you will not disappoint."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "I do not
say that as a way to worry you, jata amo. But to show that I trust you, and all novices, to do their
best not to disappoint."

In dark, lyrical tones, Wyrden Auspice Esei Shee-Slaugh of the Ascending Dusk whispers, "There is
nothing wrong with mistakes and failure; they bring a pain which we can learn from. You just have to
look past the pain to the lesson."

The stubborn set of Rhalkyr's jaw is evident even beneath the mask, a mulish,
resolute defiance kindling in his eyes. "Not, for Rhalkyr. Will, protect. No, suffering, sacrifice,
here. Not, necessary." He thumps his knuckled against his chest, and the sound that reverberates
from the impact is remarkably like that of a muted drum. "Will, be strong." Softening in his
countenance somewhat, he takes Esei's left hand in his own and, with is right, pulls his mask up off
his face enough to gently, insistently, guide Esei's hand beneath to rest briefly upon the warmth of
the skin beneath. He looks into Esei's eyes for the short duration, before calmly withdrawing both
hands, and resettling his mask back into place. "Will, do best. For, the Glomdoring. For, Her. For,
you."

A wry smile spreads across Esei's face.

Esei leans close to you and gently lays a kiss upon your forehead.

Rhalkyr's eyes lid closed, and he utters a faint, pleased rumble, and only to find Esei gone when he opens them once more.

You think to yourself: Deep, /deep/ within the heart of the silken jungle, behind a waterfall of glimmering, flowing shadow, a cave. A den. Comfortable, intimate, and very lived in. At the back of the cavern, a row of figures carved exquisitely, if roughly, from black wood. Ascendant above the others, the Lady Viravain, and Lord Nocht, surrounded and draped with token offerings of devotion - flowers, spun shadows, glittering black stones chipped into seven points, and more. At below them, at a middle level, a one-eyed faeling of a stoic, patient mien, his single eye formed from a crudely chipped and polished ruby, and about his feet coils a miniature leopard, of white wood. Below him, at the feet, a fresh bough of wood is subject to the careful, gentle attentions of huge, brutally curving claws. Each tender caress shaves a curl of black from the timber, drifting to join a growing pile of its ilk upon the floor. Rough, and as yet fully formed, there is the suggestion of a form in a constant state of flux - horns meld with feathers, and a host of other features, but the eyes remain the same. Calm, wise, and with a subtle suggestion of kindness, if one were to look upon it at the correct angle, in just the right lighting.