Lendren: Communion and Introspection

(Narathos): Maylea says, "My Lendren. Will you come to the Fulcrux?"

(Narathos): You say, "I am on my way!"

You have emoted: Lendren presses his hands together gently and bows slightly, smiling. "Yes, my Lady?"

You sense a breeze brushing against your cheek, lingering with sweet fragrance.

Lendren smiles softly, and tilts his head slightly into the sensation.

The air swirls with prismatic colour as a soft, insightful voice says, "Hello, little one. There were things you wished to present?"

Lendren nods, and takes a moment to clear his throat and shake off nerves. "I have studied both Communion and Introspection, and am prepared to discuss them and have prepared creative expressions of each. I have set myself the challenge of doing a different type of creative act for each of the Truths, a decision I may come to regret! And am working on several of them."

A touch of fingers upon your chin. A shimmer at your forehead about your bindi. You feel heartened, as if you were filled with colour within.

The air swirls with prismatic colour as a soft, insightful voice says, "Show Me, My dear."

Lendren draws a few items from a paint-splattered arts supplies box as he speaks. "On the manner of Communion, I focused my thoughts on a particular incident from just before You came to the First World, in which I was striving to achieve some Communion with such an intensity... ultimately to learn I was looking in the wrong places. I brought two creative works I did at the time, with which You may or may not be familiar already, and also one new one."

You take a scroll of colourful autumn leaves from a paint-splattered arts supplies box.

You take a fine vellum scroll from a paint-splattered arts supplies box.

You take a painting of a world of seasons separated and joined in place and time from a paint-splattered arts supplies box.

Lendren holds up a painting of a world of seasons separated and joined in place and time, his nervousness easing. "I had become fascinated with the nature and origin of the seasons. The Spiritsingers were fairly new, and some songs, and our chimes, and other things, were connected to the seasons, but it was unclear to me how, or why. And I wondered why the seasons exist as places on the Ethereal plane, and times on the Prime plane, and how they came to be, and whether they had spirits associated with them. I spent many years trying to understand them. I wrote a song, and also a fable which I later made into a story-telling performance with my daughter. And I attempted to speak to Lady Lisaera about it. Hoping to draw myself to Her, as I was trying to find a place in Her order, and the Spiritsingers to the fae and the Ethereal plane and the commune as a whole, and... well, I can't say I achieved much with any of it!"

You display a painting of a world of seasons separated and joined in place and time for all in the room to see.

Depicted as from a great height, an entire world wraps around this
painting, the seasons depicted within it in a disorienting perspective
that makes the world seem small enough to be walked across in a few
hours. At the center a hazy figure could be anyone, drawn with dry-brush
strokes and stippled splashes of paint that leave everything to the
viewer's imagination. At upper left, a springtime meadow dotted with
yellow paint-daub daffodils is surrounded by yew trees whose leaves are
little more than a spray of light green paint, a promise of leaves to
come. Near the top, the forest transitions to a summer wood of
sycamores, embracing a meadow where strokes of umber and gold paint
portray barley-fields heavy with the plenitude of summer. The leaves
fade to gold towards the lower right where they give way to star-leaf
trees, their five-pointed leaves vibrant in yellow, brown, red, and
orange, many fluttering in breezes over the grape-vines that fill the
meadow. Tubs hold harvest from these vines, nothing more than tiny daubs
with the tip of a brush laden with purple paint. The mostly brown leaves
near the bottom fade to trees of no specific variety, just streaky
strokes of gray paint topped not with leaves but with dirty white snow.
Boughs hang heavy with pale blue icicles, while an icy stream sluggishly
flows. Everywhere in this world of seasons, shadows, mere smears of gray
paint applied with cotton rather than a brush, suggest that it is near
midday. An indigo-gray night-scape beyond the horizon, bedecked with
stars applied by flicking a brush with diluted pale blue paint, is
interrupted twice, at upper left and lower right. The first is a
stylized Father Sun leaving golden traceries behind as he rushes around
the world, while opposite him, the silver shining full face of Mother
Moon moves in a more stately manner. Curiously, a discoloration beside
Mother Moon, on closer inspection, suggests the painter rendered another
figure, then peeled back the paint to reveal the star-scape beneath it,
leaving little more than outlines and suggestions of what was removed.
It has 251 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 37 pounds.
It bears the distinctive mark of Lendren Starfall.
It has the following aliases: painting.

You sense a certain examination, the whole glade falling silent for a moment as the Goddess turns Her attention to the colours upon the painting.

The air swirls with prismatic colour as a soft, insightful voice says, "And what Truth did you find, in painting and in learning thus, My Lendren?"

Lendren says, "As I started, I considered it an eager attempt at Communion, but a failure. I did not learn of the origins of the seasons, nor did I draw closer to Lady Lisaera -- in fact, She was quite wroth with me for asking. It seems it struck an unhappy memory. It was not much longer when You first came to the Basin and then I asked Her about leaving to follow You instead. Which I likely would have done anyway, but that seeming failure certainly helped. But as I worked on this, and spoke with others about it, it became clear that characterizing it as a failure was inaccurate. My efforts were certainly thematic of a life-long desire for Communion, and my intent was aligned with it. I may, as You know, be over-eager at times!" He fidgets slightly. "Well, a lot of the times. But I reached out, and I strained for understanding, and for connection. And several creative works came of it." He gestures to the two scrolls that sit atop the paint-splattered box. "The song Simultanaeity, which is one of my favorite of my attempts at song, and the story How Autumn Got Its Colours. I found my own understanding, my own perspective, on the question, and I drew closer, not to Lady Lisaera, but to others who I discussed the subject with, or worked with on the song and story and play."

You say, "It was something of a relief to see in hindsight, after so very long, that it was not a failure I had to regret. Or at least not only that."

A few flower petals fall upon the scrolls, resting there, trembling as the breeze that brought them seeks to carry them off some more.

The air swirls with prismatic colour as a soft, insightful voice says, "The obstacles you found led to Communion with others for you. Led you from painting to song. Brought you before Me, that I might see these colours you have gained in your working, in your striving. As Autumn gained her colours in your imaginings brought to word. You are yourself, little one."

Lendren smiles and nods, setting the painting down to rest lightly on his foot. "Yes, I am. I am more than I realized before." He turns the painting and glances at it. "I also picked up a few techniques with paint working on this. It took a few attempts." He turns the painting again, a bit of pride on his face.

A giant bumblebee rushes in with a loud buzzing and darts menacingly towards you, then at the last moment drops a rainbow heart-shaped candy into your hands and flies away quickly.

The air swirls with prismatic colour as a soft, insightful voice says, "You paint what you see, your insights as they change. Not all things bear the colour and shape they once did."

Bluebells sway and brush up against the discolouration beside Mother Moon on the painting's surface, nodding and tapping against the absence.

Lendren flushes a little bit at the sudden interruption of Ezyth. "I see that as with all things we learn, all ways we grow, Communion is something I will always learn about, and strive for. But I feel like I understand better... not so much what Communion is, as what of it is in me." He looks at the candy. "I suppose my mom reaches for Communion too." He bites a bit on his lower lip. "I felt the best way to express the part that felt a failure was to paint an impression of Lady Lisaera, and then remove it, to leave behind only its absence."

Grasses sway under your feet, lightly touching you as with barest pressure of fingertips.

The air swirls with prismatic colour as a soft, insightful voice says, "Is the absence real to you?"

Lendren purses his lips in thought. "Well, I felt like the... pardon the phrase, but the 'present absence' on the painting reflected a part of that experience, but it's not an absence that haunts me now. Indeed, ever since You came to the Basin, I have always felt like it was one of those moments where fortune or the Fates guided me to just where I belonged. As when Jaguar Spirit failed me in the Serenguard, just in time for me to help my mom found the Spiritsingers, where I belonged far more than the Serenguard, so too setting aside my striving for Communion with Lady Lisaera put me on the right path to find You, become Yours." He taps on his lips with a finger, while holding up the painting in the other hand. "But I do regret if my questions caused Lady Lisaera distress, and that I was never able to make up for that. That wasn't the intent of that part of the painting though."

The air swirls with prismatic colour as a soft, insightful voice says, "There are Those We all wish We might approach differently. But the path you walked is who you are."

The painting shimmers slightly, as if all the brush strokes come to life for the merest moment. Then it is still.

The air swirls with prismatic colour as a soft, insightful voice says, "What of Introspection, My Lendren?"

Lendren takes a deep breath, and starts to carefully put the painting, scrolls, and box aside. "This is unsurprisingly the most personal. I was thinking of a young Mayflower called Lillie I tried to help once, long ago. I did not help her as well as I ought. She struggled to accept herself as what she was -- namely a woman, as she happened to have some anatomical details that didn't match that. She spoke to me of the sense that some refused to accept her as a woman, that she wasn't sure she should. I felt that the answer was simple: if she felt she was, she was. And anyone who thought otherwise should be dismissed. I should have dug deeper. I mean, I still feel that is the answer, but it took more to bring her to accept it." He steps back to the center of the grove, now cleared. "And that was a step on the way of me accepting my own duality of gender, that I am not male and not female and not neither but both at once. Neither unified nor separate. It took me a long time to believe that. Even as I mastered my shape-changing enough to switch back and forth at will, I always suspected one day I would find which was the 'real' one and settle down on it, and that was wrong. It took a lot of examining myself to not only believe this 'gender fluid' nature but to accept that it is as valid a way to be as any other."

Underfoot, the wildflowers about you shimmer in their multifarious hues.

(image: https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/746165580209586226/754756817258676294/unknown.png)

The air swirls with prismatic colour as a soft, insightful voice says, "The blossoms bear the colours they bear, as do you, little one. Are you happy with who you have found yourself to be?"

Nodding enthusiastically, you say, "I am, absolutely, yes. It confuses a few people I meet now and then, but I now take that as an opportunity to reaffirm that this is a way people can be. And I feel that the people around me accept this about me without reservation. I feel very... it makes my heart warm to think of it."

The air swirls with prismatic colour as a soft, insightful voice says, "Sometimes, those whom I paint cannot imagine the colour they are, until they have been painted thus. Your colours bring possibilities, My Narathos. For you draw out hues in others on My behalf. You show what splendour is possible."

The Goddess's voice is near, even in your ears. "You are of Me. And I am with you, dear one." As She speaks, you feel hues bloom within you further.

Lendren nods slowly, having trouble keeping from smiling so much he looks foolish, one hand over his heart as before. After a few moments he collects himself and nods again. "Thank you, my Lady. You make me feel confidence and strength that in the past I have longed for."

The parafilament purse in your possession shimmers once more with a soft blue-and-yellow light.

The air swirls with prismatic colour as a soft, insightful voice says, "You have brought before Me your Communion and your Introspection. Thank you, My Lendren. What Truths you paint to come, I will see."

You take a shimmering flower from a rainbow-shaped box.

Looking ready to burst into full bloom at any moment, this flower bud is rounded, bulging, its bound petals a soft, radiant white. Tinges of many colours tint the tips of each petal and peek out from their edges, giving the bud a distinctly layered appearance, as if the unfurling of each petal might reveal a new story and splash a new shade upon the world. The outlined hues grant a gentle light to the bloom, such that when viewed from afar, the bud shimmers with a prismatic halo as it nestles in its bed of tender leaves. Two petals have unfurled from the rest of the bud, one now bearing a comforting blue hue, another the joyous yellow of morning.
It weighs 11 ounce(s).
It bears the distinctive mark of Lendren Starfall.
It has the following aliases: flower, plant, bud.

You have emoted: Lendren holds up a shimmering flower carefully as he draws it from the box and studies it with a mixture of awe, reverence, and pride.

Lendren whispers, "Thank you, my Lady! I will continue in my study of the others and speak to You when I have learned more, and painted more, and expressed more of the colours within me!"

You glance askance at a fluffy husky puppy.
A fluffy husky puppy raises his head up and emits a mewling howl at you, looking impressed with himself.

As he begins to gather up his scrolls and painting and box, you say to a fluffy husky puppy, "You have some bad timing sometimes, silly puppy, but you're still the cutiest of all puppies."

Soft laughter rings in your ear as the presence of the Bloom of Serenity fades slightly from the area.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

((I had prepared a short illusion performance for Introspection but it didn't prove necessary. But as I wanted to get a log of it, I asked if anyone wanted to watch it anyway, after I got back from the fulcrux. It ended up having about a dozen people attend, including Mahin!))

You say, "The topic, briefly, is Introspection. Understanding yourself and accepting yourself and being who you are. In my case, the topic I settled on was my being not male, not female, not neither, but both. And what it took to accept that about myself as the way I am, not just something where I was going to later settle down on one or the other, but that both -is- me. So this is a short illusion show to try to express that. I hope it's not too corny."

Lendren again straightens his shirt and kilt and adjusts his cravat, then raises his hands to summon up flickers of illusory light and shape them into a duplicate of himself, and as the shape forms, the light flashes every few seconds, like sparks, blinding for a moment each time they flash.

You weave an impossibly complex glamour of light, producing an unerring replica of yourself that floats eerily around you and prevents your precise location from being easily determined.

The illusory duplicate of Lendren is like and unlike him, female, in an ultramarine dress that mirrors his suit. Both seem insubstantial, incomplete.

Lendren begins to step slowly in a circle around his mirror image, which is making the same motions around her mirror image. When the sparking lights flash, the two shapes seem to have traded places, back and forth.

The two figures step together, hands touching and then passing through one another, then bodies passing through one another to overlap, still turning slowly.

Lendren leans her head out to peer at himself, and does the same in return, each puzzled by the other-self.

The two step apart once more, each appraising the other, trading places on each flash, quicker and quicker.

As the flashes hasten, the forms become indiscernible. Perhaps he is wearing the dress, she the cravat.

Lendren reaches for her other half as he reaches for her, and they lock hands, drawing into one another by the folding of arms, combining into a shape that seems to flicker between both forms.

The two forms become one that is both, not simply overlapping but combining into a single solid shape that possesses all the traits of both.

Gradually the male elements dim and withdraw into the newly solid form, but remain barely visible just below the surface, present but temporarily quiescent.

Lendren looks down over her body, nods approvingly, and turns a merry, satisfied pirouette, making her skirts bell out flower-like. She comes back around with a girlish titter and then a bow.

Elexia applauds vigorously, her smile beaming bright as she chimes, "What a beautiful expression of what you have come to know about yourself!"

You say, "It's not all about excuses to wear all the pretty suits and all the pretty dresses, but that certainly helps!"

Mahin's nine tails flicker back and forth, her mismatched eyes twinkling. "Changeling-kin." She licks her snout. "Very nice."

You say to Mahin, "Thank you! And I'm glad you could see it!"

"The Mistress will be pleased." Mahin approaches you, her tails brushing against you. She turns her mismatched eyes upon the creatures who are gathered here, giving them her brightest smile, all teeth.

With a flick of her nine tails, a vixen disappears.