spiritmancy talk w mayra

[17:24] Ignorance was befallen to the lower quarters of the bazaar's boulevard as, sat before the perch of Waystone's terrace, would Jude watch on with little to no intent.

What had been a disinteresting turnout within the not-so-secret competition now had brought him before the Inn's confines.

Thusly so, eyes glance about to a nearby seatmate as steel blues fall upon a familiar face. Perhaps their introduction had been nonexistent, yet it was primed with a lingering intent as the Cirque nudges a nod toward the Zheng.

"Hey," he greets. "You're the chick from the house raid, yeah? Fought Goethe?"

The memory was hazy. Only the long-passed lightning wounds and the delirious aftermath was what he had mostly remembered. Yet he could not forget the benevolence offered to him that night.

"Don't think I got to properly thank y'for that."
(Jude Cirque)
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[17:36] Stretching upwards on her chosen spot by the bench, Mayra sharpens up after a brisk nap by the bench. Two languid blinks find her glancing down towards her stall, mostly in order to check up on her employer.

You know, to make sure she wasn't slacking at work or taking change from the register.

Ascertaining that no foulness is in play, she falls back against the backrest and finds herself greeted by a dormmate. Awkward, the Cirque's inquiry is quick to put her on the spot, and is only in turn responded to by a bashful nod of her head.

"Yes." Rather unbecoming, being identified as one of several undisciplined crooks in wrest.

"Don't mention it, I only moved in for the save. I had no intention to fight anyone.

Plus, I read some... kooky intent in the air around him."

Was this metagaming?

"Like he were on the verge of truly hurting you in hopes of making a statement, or drawing attention."

Pretty much.
(Mayra Zheng)
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[17:46] The youth's upper body laxes, moving to rest upon the backrest of his seat as fingers move to clasp and lay before the incline of his stomach; a phlegmatic posture, slouched and clearly lounging.

"Hmmm? Did y'now." Perhaps his gamesense was not as posed as her own. But then again, he had far more reluctance to believe a companion of his would go as far as to maim anyone.

Or, well, at least him.

But then again, he had read people wrongly prior. Thusly, a soft shrug pitters out to counter Jude's initial motionlessness. An added animation to a normally still fellow. "I don't think he meant to actually hurt anyone. At least from what I know about him, he wouldn't."

Mayhaps he had misplaced trust, or maybe he was assured enough to bring out a retort to the initial speculation of the Duran's intentions. But regardless...

"Either way, I'm still grateful for the save." Despite the cockiness he had often expunged, there was some room for humility at least—sometimes. "Don't think I ever got to introduce myself proper." Despite being housemates, he had little to no recollection of a real interaction with her.

He nods over, flashing a flatline grin. As if a deadpan expression had tried its best to expose a smile, and failed. "The name's Jude."
(Jude Cirque)
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[18:08] Leaning forwards slightly and allowing for her chin to comfortably rest on the extended palm of her hand, Mayra would listen on to Jude's train of thought with a ponderous shade of effortless contemplation.

Maybe, he simply expected too much out of his blood given luck - underestimated the subliminal potential to do ill wrought deeds under contexts that merited them not.

"Don't you think so?" She inquires, rather monotone in her demeanor. Eyes catch drift upfront yet again for a moment, whilst she meditates on her differing observation.

"I wouldn't have left any room for doubt, had it been me in your place."

It wouldn't. Heavens knew Mayra had little chances of getting shoved down by most of the boys in the academy, for reasons perhaps all too difficult for her to explain.

"Jude," she returns, emoting a single vehement nod to the boy in proper regard. Elegant, well mannered. A bit awkward, given that they're both sitting down on a bench.

"My name is Mayra, of the Zheng Dynasty.

I am pleased to finally make proper acquaintance."
(Mayra Zheng)
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[18:23] "Maybe I was just sure with my hand. I wouldn't have taken the risk if I didn't." Of course, the fact that he was swung upon instead of being the instigator would not be brought into light.

Instead, an idle stretch brings forth unwinding muscle. "But a little gut feelin' just told me I wouldn't have gone bottoms up just like that," he confesses. "I mean of course that doesn't mean I didn't want out. I like tendin' to plants, but I don't like havin' a face full of 'em."

Not his brightest moment, but the lesson imparted during the fight was more than enough to instill one thought within his mind: fuck wind users.

Introductions are exchanged, names officially handed off as an acquaintance now bore light. "Zheng? Can't say I know much about 'em. But then again, I'm not so hot when it comes to foreign knowledge." A pittering tone, ebbing curiosity to what exactly made such a name a dynasty by its own right.
(Jude Cirque)
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[18:41] "Maybe not bottoms up..." She'd ponder, watching him stretch not unlike she had instants prior. "... plus, it's not like I would've allowed for it to happen. In fact, I didn't." The creeping suspicion alone was enough for Mayra's body to move on its own accord, putting Claudia, Jude and Myrios out of harms way in one fell swoop.

There's a thin smile that wrests its way onto her face when the son of Moxtli's razer draws that peculiar comparison, though the priestess stops herself inches shy of laughter, instead opting to stay dignified and a cut above worldly laughter.

"Mh-h--hm. I suppose... I understand the parallel you're trying to draw here, Mister Jude."

A pause, before she'd dismissively sway a hand about. "There's not much to learn, worry not." Mayra lies, though only in an attempt to remain quaint of attention - an excess of it may bring with unwanted suitors, or worse... proper threat.

Something irks her, however.

"I didn't quite get..." Of course, she was never quite one to call people by their first name. Traditionally, it was considered proper manners to utilize their family's title, oft accompanied by the word 'mister', at the very least.

"... your surname, I'm afraid."
(Mayra Zheng)
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[18:51] An air of lackadaisicality. Like worries had fell and refused to plague the mind of the Cirque, barring any notion for stress or anxiety. Mindless carelessness, yet still upholding an air of purpose within his midsts.

Though the instance offered that there was not much to learn, his line of business had taught him that there was never such a thing as an uninteresting person.

A shifting nod protrudes from the lacking wish to unveil their proper lineage to him. The amount of times one had refused to elaborate their past to him in casual conversation was staggeringly wider than one expects. "I see, I see."

And yet, he never pries. The effort needed to find something that might just disappoint him was not worth to be expunged. At least, not right now.

Regardless, he on the other hand was not overtly privy to his family. If anything, he believed it to be more of an open secret.

Ergo the soft stammering chuckle underneath his breath upon the query of his appellation brings him to a response. "That depends." He turns to Mayra, offering proper attentiveness as the tilt of his head expresses curiosity to any potential non-verbal responses. "Which one?"

His answer, though monotonous and deadpan, was almost stated in a charming attempt at a jest.
(Jude Cirque)
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[19:06] There's two languid blinks that belatedly react to the young Cirque's most duplicitous inquiry, as he asks for depth of specificity when Mayra makes an attempt to grasp his bloodline's identity.

She's taken aback, albeit briefly, by the clap back in the way of another inquiry. Her head tilts, that bemusement inching through with a bit more impetus this time around.

"You have more than one...?" Mayra inquires, hands resting on the top of her knees and a clear woven expression of confoundment scattered throughout those maiden-like features of hers.

"I wasn't... expecting you to ask something like that. -- I suppose the one you go by the most."
(Mayra Zheng)
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[19:19] "Surprisingly, yeah." A blunt retort, unapologetic in whatever doublespeak he had offered unto the Zheng. If anything, the response was much akin to entertainment to him, snatching a calm smile and a nod upon its response.

Often, they were meek whence it came to their actual surname. The amount of history and girth of background upon each one of the two was far too heavy to unveil willy nilly.

But then again, what was there to lose? Again, half the Academy had likely picked up on it by now. And if not? His clear resemblance to the Voice would have given it away sooner.

In a grumbled baritone, he answers with a level of neutral confidence; eyes remaining intact as he scours for even the slightest reaction. "Cirque. Jude Cirque."

An arm shifts, one of his elbows moving to rest before the backrest of the bench as he looks on with idle curiosity and anticipation.
(Jude Cirque)
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[19:36] There's a clear forebodingness to the way in which Jude presents himself proper. It's clear that she's being put on the spot for scrutiny when he does unveil the title proper, and though she makes note of it such occurs an instant too late.

Cirque. Jude Cirque.

The dreaded name Cirque, known to have summoned primordial entities unto land and destroyed the better part of an entire civilization out of obsessive drive... its chime alone sends the spiritualist into mental disarray for the better fraction of an instant, a chill making its way down her spine without a tinge of forgivingness to boot.

"Mister Cirque." She echoes, eyelids twitching slightly in her attempt to remain stalwart and rigidly composed. Though it's clear that she's been thrown off altogether.

Those silver hairs, the odd mixture of azure and green in his eyes. This may just have been the son to the destroyer herself.

Breath is drawn in steeply, whilst she wrests with the idea for longer than otherwise healthy. Mayra knows too much, far too much. The pandemonium chase was the main reason as to why Jianghu hadn't halfway focused on Esshar for the better part of a century, hadn't it?

The son of a culprit now stood inches away form her. How dreadfully ironic.

"I see,..." Noticing that her discomfort has spoken too much for her, and her incapability to keep it in check under his contemplation for just an instant, Mayra proves bashfully dismissive.

Her manners, however. Where are her manners? Did they get lost in the way?

"Pardon the hesitation, it's... a delight, meeting you proper."
(Mayra Zheng)
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[19:50] The idle amiable presentation he had bore previously almost shift in-tune with the Zheng's altering disposition. The raised brow slacks, the barely noticeable convex upon his lips returns to its usual horizontalness, all the while his initial uptilt of a glance soon drifts to the horizon before him.

"Yeah, I know," he mutters, a smaller sigh almost escaping from his exasperations. "I get that a lot."

Despondency exudes from his countenance, the return to the neutral expression followed by the melodically monotone vocalization mayhaps said enough.

Following through, the inescapable awkward silence between them that follows suit was practically unavoidable. The idle taps of his fingernails on the woods plunk with a rhythmic addition to the array of varied conversation within the public space.

And yet, he continues to chip the ice. Exactly why remains a mystery. Instead, he opts for a complete alteration of the topic. "Y'know I heard there's some similarities to an old practice in Sheng and what they used to do in Moxtli."

Perhaps, there might be a sliver of commonality amidst their hugely varied upbringing. "Somethin' about spirits? Animism? I forget, Majin doesn't talk about 'em often. I honestly know a bit more about Gehenna's side really."
(Jude Cirque)
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[20:05] Mei decided to do a bit of shopping. She did need to get a dress for the ball. Thankfully, there was quite a nice summer dress that was in one of the stores. Taking one fitting her size, she boxes it up before taking some tea.

And up to the upper floor of the waystone she goes, taking a seat with the others. For some reason, the drakanite seemed to have a thin holding her jaw in place.

So for now? All she could really do was listen and sip on her tea. Talking was rough for her at the moment. Least it would be better in a few days thanks to the Grimmore's treatment.
(Mei Long)
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[20:15] "Apologies." Mayra utters, attempting to recompose the oft seen monotone vastness of her character after Jude takes proper note of her clear clap-back and startle. "I wasn't expecting that response, is all." Her head tilts down slightly, before a fraction of her attention is thoroughly taken by the newcomer - another young lady of Sheng and their dormmate.

"Miss Long, I am glad to see you." It sounded meant, though underjoyous in some manner. Her attention is quick to bounce back to the spawn of Sibyl, before her eyelids find themselves narrowed ever so slightly.

The element he sneaks into the conversation forthwith finds her with a bit more ease, perhaps intrigued in some manner by exploring the notion. As accustomed in her more insightful ponders, Mayra's nostrils widen once before scrunching down.

"I suppose. I've heard so too, you know.

Though the entire nature of the comparison is not entirely withinmy grasp. Your culture is known to have a fair fixation on spiritual channeling.

In my household, and during my whole upbringing, I was exposed to much of the same."

There's perhaps a window for him to seek depth in the parallel.
(Mayra Zheng)
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[20:18] She'd kept to herself for the most part, having been occupied in the wares on display before the Waystone Inn. She strayed from stall to stall, it was the same. It always was the same, till..?

"Mm."

Her heel had caught in the dirt, as she turned swaying in place to share a second glance at an accessory she'd simply shot down as some silly religious thing..

She leant forward, her mind had been made on the spot and a purse of coin had found it's way from pocket to the hand of the salesperson.

One step, two. She'd backpedalled from the store sienna hues downcast toward the object of interest, it lay within her palm. She searched for something; The beads were rolled, and lithely twisted about the lengths of fingers as she sought for the crafters engraving.

Ah, it abated. A reprieve from the mystery was wrested free for her efforts, it'd been that girl.

Mayra Zheng.
(Cyn)
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[20:20] Ararsi had been, honestly, dozing atop the Waystone, his book having fallen to rest atop his face in an unintended shelter from the sun overhead. A start sees the quieter of the twins jerk to wakefulness.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes he looks around for several moments before his attention rests upon Jude.

"Oh.. Jude. You're still here."

"Know where Artem is? I was supposed to set him up as my room mate after the hunt, but-" A sleepy yawn is covered by a raised hand.
(Ararsi)
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[20:27] Eyes glance upon the arrival of yet another housemate. Another whose name has eluded him within the year of residency within Starfall. And perhaps, it were to remain that way for now as they seem enthralled to piqued listening instead of interjecting into the conversation immediately.

Regardless, "Water under the bridge," he musters as a reply, gaze remaining hinged upon the distance. "Can't say I don't get that response, because I usually do." If it weren't for his mother, it likely was because of his father. A name tied solely upon two of Esshar's most intimidating appellations.

Who could blame her?

He flashes his attention to the more meek of the twins for a moment. "Oh, him? I just saw him run off south." The red-head moving with an added grace, yet one he did not pursue. He trusted his own relative to find his own footing.

Swiveling back upon the previous conversation however, he poses theresponse over his attempts at an alternate topic. If anything, he seemed relived by the pick up.

"I could say the same with yours." Though the shamanistic spirits of Gehenna's lore and that of the scriptured phantoms within the Illuminated writings was upon the same school of learning, their heavy nuances draws avid separation from the two cultures.

"I just figured I'd ask, I see y'in the shrine sometimes," he reveals. "I guess the place is like a mixture of both? What with the Illuminated stuff while bein' run by an old resident of Moxtli."
(Jude Cirque)
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[20:34] She raises a free hand that was now finally healed of its broken bones to give a figner waggle towards Mayra while they were speaking. Sadly, while one wound had mended, she had gained another.

They take a sip of their tea before clearing her throat. "Hiya Miss Zheng. Are you talking about the Golden Fox again?" She questions while looking at the others. What the heck was a Gehenna? Another foreign land perhaps?

"I never did learn much about it. My parents were always too busy working to take me to the local shrine." She says while rubbing at a rather sore spot on her jaw.

Nope, talking really was a bad idea like this. She should have stayed silent and saved herself the pain. Ow ow ow.
(Mei Long)
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[21:31] There's a distinct lack of chirpiness to Mayra's demeanor. Though once blossoming with clearer joy, even in her general rigidity of character, the priestess appears subliminally underwhelmed - as if lacking in a shade of clear enthusiasm when she does respond.

The change wasn't drastic, but it had become apparent that her patience had begun to worsen. Namely when she made a reach for her pocket watch and threw eyes over it.

Concern, perhaps. Disappointment, even.

You're late...

Soon thereafter, the Jianghese noble finds herself returning to Jude, though mostly to ascertain some of his suspicions. "It's true, I spend more time there than I do at the dorms. This is because Wynne decided to house me in, given my role as a priestess of the Illuminated."

Eyes drop to half lids, and her shoulders listlessly roll once. "It's difficult to escape some of her more alien beliefs, given for how long the shrine has been lacking a proper worshipper of Jiuweihu.

She's done well in keeping it from being warped into something... more unbecoming." Well, for the most part.

"I'd like to see it turned into a more... dogmatically loyal monument. Return it to the place Lady Consul Yoshiko first envisioned it as... though, I would also like some flexibility towards up and coming spiritmancers.

The wanderers from the tribes... they've lacked a place to call home proper for some time." Too many shamans adrift, there were.

Mayra's eyes flock over to Mei, thus making her expression smoothen up ever so slightly. There's a scarce nod of her head therewith. "I'd love to tell you about her solar majesty sometime, Miss Long.

Why don't you come by the shrine tomorrow, and we'll speak about it over tea?"

Cha.

It is only then that a particularly vacant interval of silence finds the nervous intent more clearly told apart, wherein she finds herself staring over the railing and down to Cyn, who now boasts that wonderfully made magatama-wrought necklace.

Legs crossed, only vaguely curious, though showing as indifferent as was usually accustomed.
(Mayra Zheng)
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[21:51] Perhaps it was true. What was once a homage to the faith of Sheng's kitsunes now merely held up by the same scattered remnants of the once successful Moxtli tribes.

"Hm. Y'do have a point." In all honesty, he held little to no recollection of a time before Wynne's occupation of the space and what the Shrine had been prior to that. "Moxtli used to be boomin' with that. Sucks to see what it's become, but my sister and a few others have been tryin' to get it back on its feet."

However, what he was aware of was Moxtli's own disheveled remnants. A dying culture, slowly waning into obscurity upon Essharan soil. Without a place to call as a refuge, the amount of spiritmancers acquainted to the spirits of Gehenna was already a dwindling number.

A fact he was far far far too experienced with.

"Maybe that ain't such a bad move," he mutters. "I've been seekin' out someone who's been heavy handed with that myself actually." Not to say his family wasn't indulged with the old oral practices.

If anything, it was only now that he realized that he likely should have asked one of his relatives on the Cirque side about it. A mental note is taken.

"Y'know. Keepin' with some parts of the family past is important at least." Despite the Cirque's history of destroying the tribes and becoming a household name to fear, its roots lied far differently to its humble beginnings: The Voice of Moxtli.

Jude leans forward, elbows now piqued over his knees as his back hunches over. The conversation clearly lasting an intriguing note upon his countenance. As if a string had been strummed within.
(Jude Cirque)
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[22:01] There's but a moment's worth of silence that split Jude's response from Mayra's counter. A soft tilt of her head precedes it, even if for an instant.

"Are you not too acquainted with your heritage, Mister Cirque? Having shamanic roots is no lesser deal, your family would be elsewhere revered as a direct bond between Eternia and the spirit realm." Same as hers, perhaps.

Someone heavy handed with that. She, too, makes a mental note of Jude's needs before her attention is elsehow captured by an inquiry.

"Do you need a rune on that amulet?" The maiden of the Zheng would echo, so as to ascertain intent.

"I'd mind not." Upon confirmation, Mayra lifts, treading down the stairs and readying to enhance the pendant proper with her runemancy. "What exactly do you need?"
(Mayra Zheng)
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[22:07] The child sits, one leg crossing over the other as they nurse the half emptied cup of tea within her hands. "I think i'd quite enjoy that. Perhaps after the ball? I might need your services for some actual equipment too."

She glances down at her uniform. Not even leather padding was underneath that school outfit, no wonder she got slapped around so much in fights. "But, later. When I actually can get some metals for you to use. It's annoying when people approach for potions without the stuff after all! Kind of rude as well if they get annoyed when I ask for extra money to cover costs..."

She grumbles before looking back to the fight she saw in the distance. Looks like the Occultist was beaten back. Thankfully, the Dragon wasn't needed.
(Mei Long)
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[22:08] Mayra sheds a single tear, feeling understood. Completely out of ore. All out. Fully out.
(Mayra Zheng)
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[22:18] "I am, but this's where the nuance shifts."

Whilst Sheng and the Illuminated bore scriptures and writings of each waking memory of spirits and their culture, Gehennan heritage ran more differently.

An oral tradition, often ran by shamans and elders, passed down by tales and songs. Though, now, modernization is easily overcoming to wider branches.

Either way. "For us, the less the people practice, the easier it is to lose out on knowledge. Call it tradition or whatever." Not that he agreed with it, of course. Thanks to the inclusion of a Barsburgian upbringing, the ideals and learnings had drastically changed.

Albeit, he remains intrigued to what was the norm.

As she simmers downward into the lower extremities of the Inn, he continues. "But y'know what happened anyway. Now there's barely anyone practicin' and there's even less folks that has somethin' to teach." Mayhaps it was why he was so determined to further interact with the frequently absent Warden.
(Jude Cirque)
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[22:30] With that smidgeon of joy shown to her fellow shengese of a lower social upbringing, Mayra puts a pin on their future encounter both mentally and verbally. "That'd be fine, Miss Long. I'd appreciate your company as well, most importantly. It's a bit lonely in the shrine, outside of Lady Meztin and my friend, Ryouma."

The pugilist was simply too noisy at times, too. One needed a break from the [BRAVE] fellow, if only to confer from similar immigrants of a different gamut.

"He doesn't bring metals home, unfortunately. So I'm more often than not left to scrape by, scour around in caves by myself. It's quite exhausting, truth be told."

The drift of her attention finds its allay atop the young and handsome Cirque once more, to whom she'd raise a chin to properly look at. He was taller, it was to be expected that Mayra would have to.

"Are you telling me you're meaning to learn about the spirits? How to channel them, Mister Cirque?"

A brow quirks, whilst the Zheng's arms find themselves twined to a fold in front of her diaphragmatic recess, then freely hang over her midriff in this comfortable cross shape.

"It's no easy task, - and you didn't initially strike me as the type to take an interest in it."
(Mayra Zheng)
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[22:45] Perhaps he had primed himself to pick up where Sybil had left off. Albeit, sans setting the tribes ablaze. To continue the mantle of what was supposed to be.

Though his interests might have gone rapidly in places one would not expect, in the end he was still a Cirque.

"Consider it a family interest," he answers. "Bein' back here made me realize how much somethin's gettin' lost without anyone tendin' to what's left."

One who attunes himself to the ethereal. A surprising turn of events. Yet it would appear expectations had always been broken when it came down to the youth.

A wildcard of unpredictability. A draw that mayhaps pits him out of his parents' shadow.

"Y'really didn't take me as the type huh?" A soft tilt upon his head almost boasts an astonished presence on his expression. "To be fair, I do get told I'm full of surprises a lot." The neutral countenance paired with the smug statement was a paradox within itself.

"But I am, yes."
(Jude Cirque)