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< A Chat At The Inn | Red Ice Logs | Duelling Over A Lack of Vision >

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• Jaom is presently sitting on the serviceable bed in her room at the local inn. Nearby, mostly gunk-free and cleaned, is the Undying Dream, looking nearly as new as it did when it was first made. On her lap just so happens to be her most recent acquisition. She looks.... hesitant to try it.

Iron Horse: There is a knock on her door!

• Jaom looks up, thankful for the distraction. "'sopen."
• Iron Horse opens the door and peeks in. "... oh, hey. Rest well?"

Jaom: "Yah... and right now, I'm trying to work up the nerve to try this damned thing on."

The suit of interlocking jade tiles looks very clean and well-cared for despite having sat in that tomb for unknown centuries. It gleams brightly.

• Iron Horse tilts his head to the side, walking to the suit of armor and kneeling besides it. "... Huh... pretty."

Another knock comes on the door, but K doesn't wait for an answer before opening it to step in.

Jaom: "Very pretty. And come i---dammit, Kin, have some respect."

Kinqueduran: "...I knocked, didn't I?"

Iron Horse: "... oh, hey K"

• Kinqueduran shrugs a little, closing the door behind him, and leans against the wall not far from the door. He loops his thumbs into his belt under the ragged poncho, and mostly manages to look like something that just washed up on shore.

Kinqueduran: "So...what's with the new shiny suit? Not that I think it's bad, mind you. I'm sure it'll look very nice on you."

Jaom: "I'm gonna put it on, but... yeah, it damn well better look nice on me. It took my shape and everything..."

• Iron Horse pokes the armor curiously.
• Kinqueduran did his damndest not to say 'it wasn't much of a shape to take', and just smiled and nodded. With K, though, you can always tell when he's holding back.
• Jaom holds it up. "... well, no time like the present, I suppose. And Kin, just say what you have to say and be done with it."
• Kinqueduran grins a little. "I think I shouldn't. I like you, I don't want you trying to kill me."
• Jaom can't help but laugh there... then sighs. "Well... here goes nothing." That said, she finally attempts to slide into the tile-armor. "I have to wonder how old this thing is..."

Kinqueduran: "Might be as old as me."

• Jaom makes a face. "... you're that old? Seriously, now..."

Iron Horse: "Need a hand?"

• Kinqueduran just chuckles.
• Kinqueduran laughs. "Sure, give the lady a hand. We all know your real motive."

Jaom: "I got it, I got it! I've been around armor enough to know how to put it on... thanks, though."

• Jaom finally gets the damn thing on and shifts a little to adjust. ".... geh, heavy. Need to attune..."
• Iron Horse just blinks at K.

Kinqueduran "...never mind."

As Essence flows into the armor it molds itself to Jaom's body then begins to flow slightly, altering its form. Inside the armor Jaom feels nothing but the two men watching her can see the changes. The tiles move about, bit by bit and the suit changes shape. Jaom changes along with it, though she herself is unaware.

• Jaom nnns slightly. "... you figure this would take less time."

Iron Horse: "... whoa"

The mannish muscularity of Jaom's body wavers and dissolves as the armor redistributes her body mass. Feminine curves appear and fill out, as if someone were pouring Jaom into the mold of another woman's body.

• Kinqueduran watches, one eyebrow very slowly inching higher.
• Iron Horse just -stares-

Jaom herself knows only that she suddenly wants...jewels. Specifically, one jewel the size of her eye. The men can see a faint phantasmal image of a pearl or maybe a diamond appearing on Jaom's forehead, just above the bridge of her nose.

Kinqueduran: "Wow. Didn't realize you were such a ..." K cuts hiimself off, either for propriety's sake, or for lack of words.

• Kinqueduran now blinks, kinda stupidly.

Kinqueduran: "It...uh...looks nice..."

• Jaom blinks as well. "Aside from the fact that I have this massive hankering for a large ruby, I don't feel that different." She finally looks down at herself.

Iron Horse: "... you look it."

• Kinqueduran shrugs, unaware of the fact that his eyes have widened and locked onto Jaom's chest.

Jaom: ... holy *shit*! What in the world?! I'm...

• Jaom stammers. "I'm... kinda hot. Isn't that some shit."

Jaom: "... and Kin, darling? Blink."

• Kinqueduran coughs and looks away. "Right. Um. Nice weather we're having..."
• Jaom rubs her forehead gently. "Man... it's... something's odd about this outfit, but it's not like it's eating me, so I'm alright..."

Kinqueduran: "More than alright, I'd say..."

Jaom finds herself constantly wishing for a jewel of the proper size. When she isn't thinking of something specific, the longing pops up in her mind. And she notices that her fingers are running through fast-growing hair, plaiting the silky mass into a series of complicated braids.

• Kinqueduran blinks. "Nice...uh...braids..."

Jaom: "Thanks.... oh, hell, what am I doing?"

• Kinqueduran tries really hard to pay attention to the braids...and fails...

In a matter of just a few minutes, Jaom's fingers have constructed a fair representation of a monarch butterfly from her hair. The lower braids have become a vast flower growing out of her head, on which the butterfly rests, wings extended.

• Iron Horse ... -blinks-.
• Jaom doesn't exactly stop, no. But she does have a look of mild confusion on. "Okay, maybe whoever was wearing this decided they didn't quite want to stay dead..." She gives the look a patpat to make sure it's solid... then just boggles.

Jaom: "... ooookay."

• Kinqueduran keeps staring. "Um...well...

Jaom: "Right now, I'm as confused as you are... and man, I wish had that jewel..."

• Jaom fishes out her hearthstone amulet almost reflexively, looks at it... and frowns.

The Hearthstone does nothing at all to assuage the longing for a mundane crystal.

• Jaom shakes her head and tucks it back under her armor. "I don't know *why*, but I want some jewel so bad... see, I knew putting this armor on wasn't the brightest idea."

Kinqueduran: "Well, I'm sure -some- wealthy man would -gladly- buy something shiny for you...

Jaom: "I bet. Heh... man, what a piece of gear."

• Jaom stands and just looks herself over thoroughly.
• Kinqueduran shrugs a little. "Hell, -I'd- almost buy you one..."
• Kinqueduran gestures vaguely. "Looks like you have a few buckles not quite adjusted. Need a hand with those?"

Jaom: "You're just trying to get close."

• Kinqueduran glances to one side. "....no I'm not."

Jaom: "... eh, whatever. Try anything fresh and you get to swallow my elbow."

• Jaom smirks a little nonetheless... and still can't shake that gem-desire. "... Horse. Any jewelers in the area?"
• Kinqueduran laughs, stepping towards Jaom to make sure the armor is properly adjusted. Also, he tries -really- hard not to make an attempt at a sneaky grope.

The armor is perfectly adjusted. How could it fail to be, having adjusted Jaom's body to fit it rather then the other way around?

• Kinqueduran nonetheless fidgets with several buckles! He's fussy!
• Jaom rolls her eyes and starts pondering jewel costs, even going so far as to count on her fingers.

Iron Horse: ... ah! uh... Jewelers? Here? No.

Iron Horse: But... yeah, I worked for a few, cities nearby... and if anything fails, there's Great Forks...

• Kinqueduran shrugs. "How badly do you need it?"
• Kinqueduran really didn't mean it that way, but who could tell?

Jaom: "All the way back to Forks... well, at least my apartment's there. Hm."

• Jaom then gives Kin a Look. "Not as badly as you're inferring I might. I think."
• Glory walks into the room, fortunately dressed in a simple white robe. She looks over at Jaom and grins widely. “Damn. "
• Jaom pauses, turns, and blinks. "Ei, Glory. Um... I see you noticed the look. Caught me by surprise, too."

Glory: "How and who do I have to thank?"

Jaom: "Think it's the armor. Definitely the armor."

• Glory ponders this, hand on chin. "Does it work if only part of it is on?"
• Jaom opens her mouth to answer, then closes it. "I dunno. Worth a try, at least." That said, she begins to try and remove the larger bits of the outfit, just to test that idea out.

The armor proves to be difficult to remove, with many ties appearing that were not there when Jaom put the armor on. Eventually, she is pretty sure she could take it off. But it would take a great deal of time and effort.

Jaom: "... ah, hell. I don't have all day to try. It can wait."

• Glory snaps her fingers ruefully.
• Jaom snickers, just a little. "You're determined."

Jaom finds her fingers searching for pen and paper.

Glory: "I'll tell you why someday."

• Jaom snickers a little... and she has pen and paper from her bag before she can even figure out what she's doing. "I bet you will."

Jaom: "... dragons alive, this is weird."

• Glory gives Jaom a puzzled look.

In elegant calligraphy, Jaom begins writing in Old Realm.

Jaom: "I don't know what's up with this suit, but it's been giving me these crazy urges... I mean... look at my hair..."

• Jaom is indeed writing while she speaks, without so much as looking at the paper.
• Iron Horse ... blinks, looking at what Jaom is writing.
• Glory walks over, leaning down over Jaom's shoulder. "The style suits you."

Jaom: "I never let my hair grow this long, ever... and what did I just write?"

• Glory idly runs a hand through the braids.

Writing: "I offer all who have awakened me gracious thanks and a thousand glorious years of applause to the woman who wears my spirit. I have waited long to rise again."

Iron Horse: "Um... 'I offer all who have awakened me gracious thanks and a thousand glorious years of applause to the woman who wears my spirit. I have waited long to rise again.'"

Jaom: ".... great. It's possessed after all."

Glory: "I'm not sure about possession, but it does seem to have its own will. And, incidentally, excellent taste."

Jaom: "Well, I'll grant it that, but... liked my hair short."

Writing: "I give my most humble apologies that I am unable to respond to anyone but myself until my Eye has been placed upon the brow of the woman who wears my soul."

Jaom: "And... what's this, now?"

Kinqueduran "You might have liked your hair short, but I think I agree with the armor."

There's a sharp rap at the door, announcing a food delivery! It's Chiaroscuran.

• Kinqueduran turns to glare at the door. "...who ordered room service? I said I'd pay for the inn, but this shit is yours..."

Iron Horse: "Huh, it's apologizing since it can't respond to anyone but itself until its 'eye' gets placed on your brow..."

• Glory takes a quick sniff and almost manages to suppress a groan. Almost.

Kinqueduran: "...eye?"

• Iron Horse shrugs.
• Kinqueduran steps back from the door and sits on the edge of the bed, letting someone else let the knocker in.

Jaom: "Eye? And... did someone order---oh, to hell with it, I'll pay."

• Kinqueduran waves Jaom off. "No, whoever ordered is going to pay."

Glory: "It wasn't me. I detest Chiaroscuran cuisine."

• Jaom makes a face. "Don't blow me off, now... at least go see who it is, in case you have to kill them or something."

Iron Horse: "um... not me either..."

• Anstice taps K on the shoulder, a flash of grayish-green light reflecting between where he deflects the sharp elbow he expected. "Hey, if the nice armored lady wants to pay for my food, she can pay for my food. I'm not that hidebound."
• Kinqueduran turns sharply, on his feet in the blink of an eye. "...oh, I am -so- going to kick your ass.."

Jaom: "... you must be a friend of Kin's."

Iron Horse: "... Anstice!"

Kinqueduran: "I wouldn't go so far as 'friend'. I think 'associate' is more appropriate."

• Glory glances over. "..Ah, good, the third Synodic. Now we just need the woman."

Kinqueduran: "I doubt she'll appear anywhere that I am. She ... dislikes me, I think."

Anstice: "K! You missed me. Where's my hug?"

Kinqueduran: "I don't hug."

• Jaom pauses. "Waitwaitwait... another... huh. Well..." She rises and walks on over to give Anstice a once-over.

Anstice: "Sure, sure. Can I collect it from the harem instead?"

Kinqueduran: "Harem. Sure."

• Anstice mostly ignores Jaom's looking, lighting up a rather elaborate pipe and sniffing it, shrugging once before taking a hit. "Harem and a half?"

Anstice: "I figured with your tastes, the armor makes sense."

Jaom: "Hey."

Kinqueduran: "...I don't think I'd call her part of a harem."

• Glory materializes one of her Daiklaves, leveling it just centimeters from Anstice's nose with a cheerful smile. "Now, there's no excuse for impoliteness. Or name-calling."
• Jaom makes a bit of a face. "Cathak Jaom. Bells graduate. Not a harem girl." She does push the Daiklave down, though. "And she's direct."

Kinqueduran "Admit it, though. Jaom's a hottie."

Anstice: "All fires are hotties."

Kinqueduran: "...I'm going to kick your ass. Later."

Iron Horse: "... hey, Anstice, how's Mendhari?"

• Kinqueduran nods at the shift in conversation.

Anstice: "Healed. Mostly. Sort of on house arrest. And marrying my clone."

• Jaom quirks an eyebrow. "My, I think we're going to get along just fine."
• Glory flips the Daiklave around, the massive black-iron sword disappearing in a blinding anti-flash. "Or horning in on my territory."
• Jaom proceeds to sputter at the territory bit.

Kinqueduran: "..marrying your clone?" He then glances at Glory, surprised. "...territory? Did I miss a memo?"

Iron Horse: "... come again?"

• Glory meets Kin's glance with a raised eyebrow. "Do you feel like disputing it?"
• Kinqueduran shrugs a little. "Only one of us -walked- away from a fight with an Abyssal. Do -you- feel up to a dispute?"

Jaom: "Cram it, both of you. No time for this."

• Anstice blows a fairly perfect smoke ring. "See, I knew this was going to happen."
• Jaom shakes her head and thanks Heseish for red skin. "Anyway... Anstice. Can I call you An? An... nice to meet you. I'm sure we'll do just fine together."

Kinqueduran: "Knew which would happen?"

Anstice: "Nice to meet you, Jaom. I doubt the fine thing, given our recent luck, but we'll see." He takes her hand and shakes it, offering a kiss to the back of it and releasing it, figuring that should cover the foreseeable formalities. "More people getting entangled in the end of the world. And the arguing."

Anstice: "I'm not sure what we'd all do without arguing."

• Kinqueduran shrugs. "We all have our gifts."
• Jaom raises an eyebrow, but otherwise doesn't react to the greeting. "Mmmm... dammit. Where is that jewel..."

Anstice: "Anyway, I would appreciate it if you'd wait on your little domestic dispute, Direct. My own has somewhat more ramifications."

Writing: Should an ignorant savage who may be keeping company with you fail to know already who I am, my name is Esmerelda Val Siminova de Luthe and I was once hailed as the Princess of Golden Waves and Mistress of the Ruby Flights

Glory: "I don't particularly want a significant portion of our resources tied down to one of Heaven's leeches, no."

• Glory gives Anstice another smile. "No offense meant, of course."
• Kinqueduran moves to take the pen from Jaom, but stops, reading the writing with renewed interest.
• Iron Horse looks over the writing, and blinks again.

Anstice: "None taken, dear."

Jaom: "Look, this thing writes better than I do. Terrible, I tell you."

Kinqueduran: "...interesting..."

• Glory returns to looking over Jaom's shoulder. "Also, my name is -- interesting titles -- Glory."
• Jaom absorbs what she's told, and continues to look dumbfounded. "So... any clue who this person was?"

Anstice: "Glory? That's not your name, is it? More of a nom de guerre."

• Kinqueduran waves Anstice off. "...don't ask."
• Glory gives Anstice a wink before returning her gaze to the paper.
• Anstice nods. "Definitely a nom de guerre, then. K, got anything stronger than this perfumed tobacco nonsense?"

Glory: "It's more of a title, really."

• Kinqueduran produces a small black leather pouch, conveniently stuffed with a rather stiff, though still pleasant blend favored in the Realm.
• Anstice takes it, heading to handle the Chiaroscuran delivery.

Jaom: "... and you know, it's dawned on me. I can take this armor off, but that would take half a lifetime... but I bet the moment I do, I go back to the old me. Not that that's a bad thing..."

• Anstice returns shortly thereafter, tearing into it with gusto. "So, how'd the ritual thing go?"
• Jaom pales.
• Kinqueduran shrugs, having lit his own red jade pipe in the interim. "I didn't have a problem with the old you, frankly."
• Glory gives Jaom a pat on the shoulder. "It's definitely not a bad thing."

Glory: "As for the ritual, well.."

Kinqueduran: "I think that's all there is to say about the ritual. My eyes hurt."

• Glory glances down at the name on the paper briefly. "..Oh, this is too good."

Jaom: "Beh, I'll keep the damn armor on until I have to sleep or summat... eh?"

Anstice: "Well, it rather matters."

Kinqueduran: "So..until tonight?" Kin sticks out his tongue at Jaom, then chuckles.

Anstice: "According to someone who'd know, if you followed the instructions perfectly, It'd have opened the door to killing all the Yozis."

Anstice: "My vote is we have enough Malfeans already."

Glory: "Seconded."

Anstice: "Hence my idle curiosity."

Kinqueduran: "Oh, come on. Who would know? And from that list, which of those do you think has interests even remotely compatible with ours?"

• Jaom tries to keep up, but just looks baffled. Poor girl.

Jaom: "... want that jewel. Dammit."

Anstice: "Anyway, I'm assuming by a lack of blanching, things went well. Good for you guys."

Kinqueduran: "Fuck you."

Anstice: "Wait in line."

Kinqueduran: "...there's a line?"

Glory: "Kinqueduran's eyes may not agree with your assessment, Anstice."

Anstice: "Ohhhh, trust me. There's a line."

Jaom: "I'm not in it. Now can we just relax?"

• Kinqueduran snaps his fingers at Glory. "When I want your opinion, I'll tell you what your opinion is.

Anstice: "His eyes seem fine from here."

• Glory just smiles at Kin.
• Anstice leans over to look. "He's not blind, they're still there, and they're not attached to some gibbering nephwrack waving them around on his fingertips. With our luck, that's great."

Glory: "In any case, how difficult would it be to acquire your missing companion?"

Anstice: "Can you kill a directional wargod?"

• Glory considers this, hand on chin. "..How much time do I have?"

Anstice: "Less than a month to kill Ahlat."

Glory: "Well, it's worth a shot."

Jaom: "... wait. Wait... kill a god. Of *war*."

• Jaom blinks. "... that almost sounds fun. Dammit, I've been around you loons too long."

Anstice: "It's unfortunate that we're not doing it, then. But that's about the difficulty level here."

• Iron Horse just blinks a few times.

Anstice: "Ahlat had a mirror image of myself made, and twisted to his preferences... big muscles, shaved head, big package in tiny thong."

Glory: "Suddenly the illustrations in that one tome make much more sense."

Anstice: "Said almost-me is currently engaged in negotiations to marry our missing Synodic, and she's hiding out in Yu-Shan for now."

Anstice: "I'm not sure WHY Ahlat wants to marry Mendhari off, but for now, I'm against sticking one of us in the public view like that."

• Glory nods. "Kill the clone?"

Jaom: "... sounds like your life's been pretty terrible recently, An. I can call you An, right?"

Anstice: "Oh, it gets worse. Ahlat knows I know, considering he beat me over the head and imprisoned me in a monastery. Ignoring the fact I've got TWO Yozi-cults after me now. And just between us? Call me what you like that isn't too cutesy. Mendhari's twitchy enough, and lord knows what Cerilla thinks now."

Jaom: "An it is, then... now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to add to my journal."

Glory: "Need help with the armor?"

• Jaom promptly grabs a few sheets of paper, pen and ink... and huddles herself in a corner. She proceeds to write at a near-furious pace. "Keeping it on for now. Thanks, though."
• Glory snaps her fingers again.

Jaom: "Persistent."

• Jaom smirks, then returns to work.

Anstice: "Now, Glory, why are you so interested in us, anyway? Beyond her. That's sorta obvious."

Glory: "My Prince has commanded that your Circle be reunited to defend Creation, and so it will be done."

Anstice: "Since when is your prince interested in defending creation?"

• Glory spreads her hands. "Why would he not be?"

Anstice: "Aren't the true Malfeans somewhat, well, anathema to creation?"

Glory: "Do you serve Poseidon or Ouranos Thousand-Eyes?"

Anstice: "Depends on who you ask. and I would note that not only are the dark brothers not Malfeans, they're about stopping a Yozi, not defending creation."

• Glory smiles. "My Prince is no Malfean. Furthermore, the Yozi's plans being spoiled does defend Creation. At least, as I see it."

Anstice: "See, that sounds more appropriate. Your prince is just cutting out the competition." He shrugs. "Anyway, how soon do you need her?"

Glory: "Sometime before or during Earth, preferably."

Anstice: "Mmm... I think that can be managed. Any other requests?

Glory: "Nothing immediately springs to mind."

• Glory rests her chin on her hands, eyes twinkling. "Do *you* need anything?"

Anstice: "More food. A shower. And some real underwear. I've had more than enough of this thong."

Glory: "Well, get to that and let me know if I can do anything for you."

• Anstice nods. "Shower is where?"
• Glory points, laying back on the bed and stretching out. Her form is remarkably similar to Jaom's, and is covered by a thin white robe instead of heavy armor plates.
• Anstice strips his shirt off as he stands, uncovering rather impressive tattoos all across his torso. The shirt hits the corner, and he heads off, though not without a backwards look at her, reaction obscured by him passing down the hallway.
• Glory grins, closing her eyes.

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< A Chat At The Inn | Red Ice Logs | Duelling Over A Lack of Vision >