< The Third Tavern | Sol Invictus Logs | There Is Always Another Way >
Varanim "Catch," says Varanim, tossing the vial of tears at Zahara.
Zahara catches the vial, then turns to look at what she just snatched from the airl
Zahara shakes it a bit, and raises a brow. "Yours, I take it?"
Varanim "Of course--if you want crying done right, I always say, do it yourself."
Zahara "Oh, I don't know, making other people cry right is also useful."
"If you consider for the space of perhaps half a second, I bet you can imagine how interested I am in telling other people how to manage their gooshy feelings."
Varanim spreads her hands. "What else do you need from me?"
Zahara chuckles. "That should be enough, unless you want to add in some bones from your last incarnation or something. I've already been building the frame."
Varanim "Some what from my where? I'm using all my bones, thanks." Varanim has a peculiar look for a moment, as though a thought has just struck her, then she shakes her head. "Neat. How long will it take?"
Zahara "You know. The guy your shard was in last. Or girl. Whatever. Powerful resonance there."
Varanim shrugs. "Oh, him. Never gone looking for the old owner, so I don't have any bits of him around--and besides, he was crazy, remember? His girlfriend is confused enough, poor sweet thing, without me wearing his eau de crazy cologne."
Zahara "Crazy, but useful. Unless you want to chop more bits off your current self, your last incarnation's bones are the best way to tie an artifact to your Essence. Very efficient. I suppose we'll have to make do with your sorrow though," She tilts the vial and inspects it. "Should be enough."
Varanim "Ah. Lucky for me, I have another plan for tying all the Essence bows--good thing, because who wants to visit tombs? They're full of dead people." Varanim makes an 'ick' face.
Zahara "I thought you /liked/ dead people."
Varanim mouths the word /liked/ with a sort of baffled expression on her face, then shakes off that puzzle for a more interesting one. "Does it need to be sorrow, /exactly/, or is a more general and complicated form of upset close enough?"
Zahara flips the vial around, and turns away from Varanim, back to the item on her table which, while obscured by her body, seems to be giving off a rather pleasant orangish flickering glow. That glow is shortly subsumed by Zahara's own, as she starts to pour the liquid from the vessel. "I suppose that depends on exactly /what/ you want to be seeing with this."
Varanim slouches into a chair and leans back, lacing her fingers behind her head. "If I already knew exactly what I'd seeing, I wouldn't bother." She contemplates the ceiling for a few minutes, then nods. "Yes, they're close enough."
Zahara glances over her shoulder at Varanim, squints, sticks up a hand to frame her face, and turns back to her work. "Let us hope so." She puts the finishing touches on the mask, reshaping it slightly so that it will be a perfect fit.
Zahara finally turns, both glows now faded, and presents varanim with a package wrapped with a shiny pink ribbon
Varanim Zahara catches a faraway thoughtful look on Varanim's face, which she absently rearranges into a teeth-stretching 'say cheese' smile under the Empress' regard. "Since I'm fundamentally lazy, I tried to structure this whole process with sincerity at its core."
Varanim Then she grabs for the package. "Ooh, gimme."
Zahara relinquishes the package with a half smirk. "Sincerity itself. Enjoy your present."
Varanim "Mm. I think if the lot of you knew how often I was being absolutely honest, you'd have some kind of seizure." Varanim tears it open immediately.
Zahara "That would be tragic indeed." The mask is revealed to be a somewhat forbidding face, made entirely of flickering flames encased in some sort of glass or crystal. Something clear, anyway. Eerily familiar to some.
Varanim Varanim, who knows exactly what she's looking at, contemplates it for a long minute without speaking, though one corner of her mouth turns up. Then she lifts shining eyes to Zahara and clasps hand over fist before her face, in the salute of a martial arts student to her master.
Varanim "It's perfect."
Zahara "I threw in some extra fire protection as an added bonus." She grins.
Zahara returns the salute, as master to student.
Varanim carefully refolds the wrapping, tucking the whole package under her arm and standing with a strange glint in her eyes of equal parts resignation and delight. "Thank you," she says, and goes.
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