< You Were A Marvel of Self-Control | Sol Invictus Logs | Time Will Ease The Wound >
zahara It is time for dinner!
zahara has not yet arrived to the table, although the servants have already served the wine and water, or in Varanim's case, spirits.
Varanim was wandering past with a brooding scowl on her face when she smelled dinner, decided that some form of food intake would be appropriate, and ambled in for one of her rare on-time dinner appearances.
Lucent With an unmistakable ripple on Varanim's clothes, the crimson-armored and night-caped Lucent walks into the room, smiling to the servants and talking to them as would a friend, his teeth literaly shining.
zahara walks in sometime after the two of them, looking thoughtful. She sits in her chair and takes a sip of wine. "So," she says. "I think we need to talk about working together on Luc's balls"
Varanim Varanim, just finishing a brief but tart explanation to Lucent via ring of the concept of "good-TK, bad-TK," chokes a bit on her salad. "We do?"
zahara "I thought we discussed this already?"
Varanim "If by 'discussed' you mean 'giggled over a fattie,' then yes."
Lucent chokes on his water, coughing out with crimson cheeks. "Z... zahara, what?!?"
zahara "I thought you, of all people, would appreciate teamwork, Lucent."
zahara waves away varanim's distinction
Varanim props her chin on one hand to watch this explanation unfold, absently spearing a section of wine-sauteed fish as that tray goes by.
Lucent finishes coughing, wincing. "Bu... but Cerin! That is just..."
zahara "Well if you like I could get Cerin to help. He's quite amazing at manipulating Essence..."
Varanim Possibly taking pity, Varanim says, "We were 'discussing' the Pluto orb, right? I mean, whatever kinky stuff you want to do for the rest is your business."
Lucent "I... I... I just would not be confortable with that." He blanches, then looks exhasperated, "Look, I know it seems like EVERYONE in the First Age cut both ways, but that is not true! And if Varanim has been getting strange memories with Quen, that was just one time, it totally does not coun... oh, the Pluto Orb, of course."
Varanim snickers into a roll, then reaches out to grab a handful of olives and scatters them on the table between the three of them. "So what's the pattern you're trying to fit into with these balls?"
Lucent There are dry sounds as the Coronal's orbs leave the Armor. They were not part of the Coronal-the-Armor per se anymore; Lucent had re-tooled the orbs to their original sheathings within the Testament. The shining orbs floated around Varanim, glass holding pure essence, shifting shape into miniature incarna...
zahara "Of course." She leans back, looking amused, and dips her finger in the cream sauce that covers the minced fruit, then smirks and licks it slowly. "The pattern is part of what we need to discuss."
Varanim "All right. First off, how symbolic are these links--are there actual god-bits in there?" She waves a fork at the floating orbs, then begins plucking tiny bits of colorful fruit off the centerpiece to stick on different olives, color-coding them to match the various orbs.
Lucent "It must connect to memories. Nostalgia. It must connect to the dead and the fallen." As he says that, the small incarna shift. They sing. They shine. They become symbols. Varanim and Zahara can feel the pull of the Sun Orb; apparently, each orb had an attration and the ability to influence a sort of individual... in both cases, Solars, in Zahara's case, also rulers.
zahara shifts slightly at the dry sound of the orbs, reflecting on the memories the noise awakens. She is shortly distracted by the pull of the Sun orb.
Varanim shoots Lucent an absent scowl at the pull of the Sun orb, then finishes sticking a small bluish ruffle of lettuce to the Pluto-olive. "Back when he still bothered to do his job, Pluto's greatest gift was release--rest."
Lucent "There are." He nods. "I believe we can try to make the Gentlemen's orbs with pieces of the Essence of Elementalists that are an open channel to the Gentlemen's... but the shard of Pluto I took will do the trick." He nods. "They do channel some of their power from their light... in a similar way as we do to recover Essence with certain techniques."
zahara drags her eyes away from the Sun orb with an effort, and cracks her knuckles. "It could cause a fear from their past to come upon them."
Lucent "Release? Hmmm... Lethe, pehaps?"
Varanim nods a bit to Zahara. "There are spells that make a ghost relive its death, or give spooky related visions to the living." Then to Lucent, "Lethe is the opposite side of that coin, at least at the lower circle. It's the difference between sex and rape, so decide which one you're peddling here."
zahara "I could work with that, yes."
Lucent considers. "... I would prefer sex. That would limit its usefulness terribly, however."
zahara "It could have more than one function, if both are limited."
Lucent "For the dead, sex, for the living, rape. Oh, the Necromancy."
zahara "It does say something about priorities, doesn't it."
Varanim spreads her hands. "I'm not the one turning sweet repose into a weapon, here--I'm just telling you the nicer options. There are lots of others, trust me."
Lucent "I am all ears."
Varanim "The harder bits of necromancy homework pretty much dispense with the whole concept of Lethe, since it's really just one more framework built over the Void. So 'rest,' in upper branches of the biz, is really just another word for Oblivion. So it depends on how rough you like your sex." She drops cherry pits in an empty cup one by one, as if casting off little fruit-flavored soul husks.
Lucent The way she speaks causes Lucent to, unconsciously, reach out to her. A feel like his body pressed up against hers', then gone. He considers. "... no, I do not believe in going as harsh as Oblivion. Not something that leaves your partner unable to perform forever. I rather prefer to see them... restrained, uncertain, overwhelmed. Zahara's first choice, a disconcerting flow of memories, will work better in this case, for all."
zahara smiles slightly. "A feeling, a memory, can be more potent than pain sometimes."
Varanim shoots Lucent a brief exasperated look at the telekinetic touch, but the glare softens into something that might be a flash of approval at his choice. "Well," she mumbles into a bite of sorbet--she only remembers to eat about once a day, so it has to count--"anyone who wants first-hand experience with the analogous spell only needs to ask. I'm helpful that way."
Lucent "I... think it will be better if you simple code it into the Orb."
zahara "Hm." She is not entirely sure what the spell can incur can be any worse than what she has lurking inside herself already. "Perhaps."
Varanim "Wuss," she sniffs at Lucent, then she nods at Zahara. "You can take a good look-see while I'm trying to figure out how to stick it in there." Then she considers. "Hm, I'm pretty sure I could redo that sentence to fit better with the general sex analogy thing we have going, but it's probably not worth the effort."
zahara laughs. "Try harder, Varanim. Harder."
Varanim "For you, baby," she leers, "anytime."
zahara grins wickedly
Lucent laughs! "Should I put this secret love affair in the books? I am told girl-on-girl sells."
Varanim "If you need to be told that, what WERE you doing in the First Age?" Varanim marvels, reaching for another helping of fish to top her sorbet.
Varanim "Wait, what books?"
zahara "Right after the story about you and Thirteen and Spring."
Lucent "Half the Sunlands' pepubescent girls already believe I had an affair with 'strict older man thirteen', must you make their delusions even more justified?" He hides his face with a long-suffering sigh.
zahara "Have you considered trying it? I mean, Spring is much nicer than Thirteen so it won't be nearly as bad."
Varanim has kind of a funny look on her face, but she hides it behind a drink.
Lucent "Been there, done that, prefer wet bits to hard bits. Point of fact."
Varanim "I'm now pretty sure I'm going to regret pushing--but, what books?"
Lucent "... NOT with Spring or Thirteen. At all. Ever. No chance. Like wet bits."
Lucent steals a glance to Varanim at the last bit, smiles.
Lucent "Oh, the series of books based on our exploits, so all of Creation will know of us!"
zahara snickers
Varanim coughs mid-drink, from one of a variety of causes. "That's incredibly tacky. It was your idea, right?" She shoots an accusing look at Zahara, as if suggesting it was the Empress' job to nip these things in the bud.
Lucent stands on his chair as if it was a throne, spreading his arms far and wide as lights begin to play about him, and the symbol of the sun appears... turning into the symbol of the Sunlands, names in gold shining over shadow! And they read: SOL INVICTUS. A CHRONICLE OF SOLARS ASCENDANT
Varanim winces and looks faintly nauseous. "Knew it."
zahara gives Varanim a helpless shrug, still grinning.
zahara "Oh, you came up with a name then?"
Lucent "Yes!" He announces, triumphant, as the name vanishes. "What did you think?"
zahara "Not bad, really. Except the bit where we have considered conquering him."
Varanim lifts her eyebrows at Zahara, letting her field that one.
Lucent falls back on his seat. "Thankfully, that idea has been left on the drawing board."
zahara "So far."
Varanim sits back in her chair with a contented sigh, brushing a few crumbs from her shirt and reaching for the olives in the center before pausing. "Any other business with Lucent's balls?"
Lucent grins "Well, we can all go down and begin working on them right now."
zahara "Oh, yes. Do you have a hole for Pluto already?"
Lucent "... no. So we will also need to work on my armor to accept that as well!"
Varanim "Enjoy your drilling, and call me when you need the death inversion loop. Corpses to disturb, people to annoy, etc." She slouches to her feet, grabbing up the olives for the road.
Varanim To Lucent, she adds, ::You, me, my place, later. But keep using that telekinesis in public and I'll have to put your insides on your outsides.::
Lucent ::That was a caress.::
Varanim ::I've got a caress too, but it rhymes with 'Mattered Void Shearer.':: Varanim exits on that note, traceable down the hallway by her off-key whistling.
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