050: Light up the night

[Sierra]

Ione elaborates further on the long-incinerated notes of the late Duchess as you fly back towards town, leaving the ugly bulk of the asylum well behind you at last:
"From what I read, raw power alone was not of sole consequence to the system," she recalls. "It was the combination of diverse talents that allowed the desired manipulation of local surroundings. The more thoroughly her subjects could synergize their abilities, the more satisfied Victoria pronounced herself with the system.
"Of course, this is part of what led her to focus on the exploitation of natural spellcasters. It is difficult to force a lunatic to memorize the proper spells, but if they are scribed within his own mind...well, in such case he can hardly unlearn the vital magics. And as you might imagine, the...'components' of the array could not be removed to refresh themselves every evening without interrupting the ongoing effects of the matrix. Not to mention the difficulty of reestablishing the network every day. Continuous function therefore required subjects who were themselves wellsprings of raw creative force."
Anyone observing the medusa could see her grimace in obvious distaste in discussing the exploitation of people in such utilitarian manner.
"I did not get the impression that the working of her abomination was smooth in its function or effect. The subjects needed some prodding to direct their subconscious magical energies in precisely the combination she required. Coordination become more an imposing ordeal the more she added units to the network, such that she could only crudely direct it by the time her slayers arrived.
"Late in her notes there was speculation on the feasibility of crafting an enchantment machine that could influence the network persistently and consistently in the same manner as an active, sentient controller, to produce a sustained response that could then be fine-tuned through some manner of mechanical interface. Victoria called this hypothetical construct 'the arcane engine,' though I saw no indication she found time even to sketch blueprints for such a device.
"As for what she wanted with all of this, I can only presume it was the same thing she demanded of her subjects through the cruder means of her profession: control."
Nearer to the city, Ione wraps all this recollection up with a dose of speculation: "You've traveled enough to encounter worlds in opposition to your nature, perhaps? Where to set foot on the plane is to feel a sense of rejection and resistance for being not of that world's make and measure? Of a reality trying to bend that which did not fit its specifications? I experienced quite the vicious sense of discomfiture visiting Mechanus once, myself," she adds in rueful recollection. "Victoria had it in her mind to manipulate this sensation for the exclusive inconvenience of everyone not herself. Though obviously she had neither the skill nor the means to do so properly, quite to her terminal misfortune.
"There were other tangential ramblings," Ione adds "About the nature of gods and the planes and their believers, speculation over which arose first, which truly exerts the utmost influence upon the other...I thought much of it madness more woeful than that of her patients, and it brings me no great sense of ease to consider another carrying on her work.
"In short," she concludes, "I find myself greatly in need of a drink at this moment. Shall we stop at my place? Everything on the house, of course. We can consider further diversions over dinner."
<Julia> "I won't object to free food and drink after all that," Julia says. "Though oddly enough the plane I found most objectionable was Earth. I've heard my friends complain of that rejected feeling, but it's never struck me."
<Steph> "Yep, let's do that," says Stephanie, sounding rather discomforted herself. "How is it that some of these clearly insane people can even set up schemes like this?"
<Cidward> "On Earth there was no natural light," Rosemund recalls. "On Air, there is light everywhere! They really are as opposed they could possibly be, are they not?"
<Julia> "Also we can float here rather than turning every step into an ordeal."
<Cidward> "One supposes they were good at convincing others they were in fact perfectly sane," Ione answers Stephanie. "Or appealing sufficiently to the vices of others that they do not ask too many pressing questions."
<Cidward> "And you were not even the one wearing armor!" Rosemund grumbles in recollection of that awful world.
<Julia> "I always wear armour," Julia insists, opening up her robe a bit to show the shiny mithral breastplate underneath. "You should trade yours in for a mithral set as well, Rosemund. It makes such a difference."
<Cidward> "Oh, it is mithril," Rosemund confirms. "But there is so much of it!"
<Steph> "The trick is not getting hit at all," says Stephanie, nodding. "You should get them all rigged up with illusions."
<Julia> "Oh. Well, I suppose there's no helping it."
<Cidward> Franceska pronounces herself uninterested in drinking at this time and diverts herself to the inn to check up on Ron's progress. The rest of you float down the spiral of Azure to a sizable building constructed of Azure's native(?) blue crystal. A sign carved above the door announces it to be the Four Winds. The entrance is flanked by two unnervingly lifelike granite statues. One is an armored woman with a fierce expression and a sword raised high in the air, the other is a winged humanoid man of some obvious draconic lineage poised mid-lunge.
<Steph> "Remind me never to piss you off, eh?" says Stephanie, sizing them up and wondering if they're people she knows.
<Cidward> Stephanie doesn't recognize them.
<Cidward> "Well they shouldn't have tried to murder me," Ione says tartly.
<Steph> "Looks like it's only you and me who don't keep trophies, Rosey."
<Cidward> "Wait, these are people?" Rosemund steps up to examine one. "And you keep them on your doorstep? Maybe they have, ah, learned their lesson by now," she suggests.
<Julia> "When someone tries to murder you you can get away with anything done to them," Julia nods sagely.
<Steph> "It's nicer this way, Rosemund. Since people who are turned to stone don't go to either heaven or hell, and they were hellbound." She pauses. "Probably."
<Julia> "I see you've become philosophical about your own experiences then, Stephanie?" Julia asks interestedly.
<Cidward> Ione gives Rosemund a flat look. "It's of some benefit around here to demonstrate one's ability to defend herself." To Stephanie, she shrugs. "Oh, I don't know. I've had more than one soul come at me with what they thought were perfectly legitimate reasons for praiseworthy homicide."
<Cidward> Julia's comment prompts an interested look from the medusa.
<Steph> "I guess?" replies Stephanie, giving Julia a tiny shrug. "We've been to heaven, right? Heavens. And it was nothing big." She scratches her chin. "Being turned to stone was like a pleasant dream. Uh, not that that's an invitation," she adds, glancing at Ione warily. "Compared to being, I dunno, gutted? Incinerated?"
<Cidward> "Oh, but you must tell me what it was like!" she insists. "It's rare that I get a victim's perspective on the matter. It's not often of benefit I give them opportunity, you see."
<Julia> "It does have the benefit of swiftness," Julia admits.
<Steph> "Um, uh, well, it was only for... how long was it for?" asks Stephanie, glancing haplessly at Julia. "A day or two? Anyway, I felt like I was being smoothed out. Like all the unnecessary dross was left behind. It's not something I can put into words easily," she muses. "When I got out, I felt reborn. Reincarnated? Everything seemed a little sharper. I learned some tricks, too, like... like
<Steph> this one!" She stamps her foot, and a pillars of fire bursts out of the ground opposite Ione before bursting in a puff of smoke. "I ain't a magician or nothing, see? But I can do a thing like that!" she adds, chirpily.
<Julia> "Hmm. Put like that it does sound rather pleasant..."
<Cidward> "One needn't be a magician to do magic," she confirms. To Julia, she smiles. "Well, if you should reach the end of your days and find the great beyond holds little appeal, now you know where to find an alternative."
<Julia> "Well, I have other arrangements, but it's something I may try someday, just for a little while," the necromancer says with a smile of her own.
<Steph> "Yeah." Stephanie withdraws the vial of air from her pocket and peers it over. "Hey. Hey! I know!" she says. "It's a sign!" She turns to Julia with a wide grin. "We've got this bottle of air I'll try, and I've been earth, so, uh, any idea how someone can become water or fire?"
<Cidward> "You should not experiment with this so casually!" Rosemund advises, mildly aghast. "I can bring people back from that state, but the spells are not perfect. They can fail and you might break or worse!"
<Cidward> "One of my singers is from the plane of Water," Ione points out. "Perhaps she'd have some thoughts on that subject, Stephanie. I've never thought to ask."
<Julia> "Don't tell me you're not curious as well after the way Stephanie described it?" Julia asks. "But ah, to become part of an element? Let me think..."
<Julia> roll 1d20+13 planar knowledge?
<Serith> Julia roll for Serith < 25 >12 [d20=12]
<Cidward> It's certainly possible, with the proper rituals...but Julia knows they're not particularly safe either. It's a dangerous thing to upset the composition of one's own body! But it's plainly possible since there are people wandering the worlds with the very essence of the inner planes in their bloodline.
<Julia> "I've heard of rituals... not how to do them mind, just that they exist, which can do it. I can't vouch for their safety though," Julia explains at length.
<Steph> "I need to look them up, then," vows Stephanie. "Self-improvement only stops when you're dead." She frowns. "Especially with what we might be up against?" she adds, tersely.
<Julia> "Oh it won't stop for me!"
<Steph> "You're not really dead if you're undead."
<Cidward> Ione sweeps into the restaurant proper. The main room is something like an inverted hemisphere, with the tables arcing around a stage against the far wall and an extensive bar stretching along to your left. The dinner crowd here is as racially and culturally diverse a lot as you've seen anywhere in the planes.
<Steph> She frowns. "Hang on, I'm wrong. If you become a devil, you climb your way up the chain, right? And if you're a demon, you.. eat your way forward? And if you go to Arcadia, I guess you become an angel by bringing in the harvest?" Stephanie immediately seeks out other tieflings upon entering a room full of diversity that, somehow, doesn't immediately descend into violence.
<Julia> "Oh, it's close enough..." she mutters, following Ione in to find a table. Or prop up the bar if that's her choice.
<Cidward> Ione wends her way through tables and many respectful greetings towards a table near the stage. There is a woman singer at work onstage, slender, pale, only lightly clad and with a mass of hair the color of deep ocean water. She sings beautifully but in some alien manner that sounds filtered through a great distance of water, and in such a state of concentration that she might not notice the audience. For her own part, Stephanie does see a couple vestigial tails and extraneous horns about on otherwise human patrons.
<Cidward> A pretty redhead in a tasteful black dress appears nearby to take your orders. "Whatever you can think of, dears, as I said it's all on the house," Ione promises.
<Cidward> After a day of such persistent violence, Rosemund declares herself in need of a plate of meat to recharge. "Steak?" she speculates. "Are there cows on this world?"
<Julia> She doubts the Solatan wines she's familiar with will be on the menu. "I'll have whatever the house wine is, and a chicken salad. Or, whatever fowl's convenient," she amends after Rosemund's speculations. They'd have plenty of fowl but flightless ones are surely unlikely.
<Steph> "Anything I can think of?" wonders Stephanie. "All I can think of right now is spiced stew, and something with bubbles."
<Cidward> "The convenience of abundance enforces a local favoritism for bird," Ione explains. "But I do import all varieties of fare. It's expensive, dear, so this is a good day to ask for it. And whatever manner of pasta the master of the kitchen favors this evening," she adds for her own part. The waitress dutifully takes note of everything and disappears. A couple songs later (or perhaps one unbroken song with moods as mercurial as the ocean) the serving staff delivers: to Rosemund, a hearty plate of what does look remarkably like homestyle steak and potatoes; to Julia, a salad of exotic vegetables and what does stand a very reasonable chance of being chicken, along with a glass of wine so clear and airy you could almost think there's nothing there; to Stephanie, a bowl of some boiling crimson substance that smokes and simmers like magma; to Ione, a platter of noodles slathered in cheese.
<Steph> "It's bubbling," confirms Stephanie, happily bringing a spoonful to her lips, ever-confident in her own resistance.
<Julia> Taking a sip of wine, Julia soon gets to work on her healthy salad, turning slightly in her seat to watch the stage and listen to the strange singing.
<Cidward> A woman of less robust constitution would surely be scalded most horribly for downing this stew before Ione even has a chance to utter a word of warning about its overwhelming heat, but Stephanie's fiendish heritage lets her proceed with impunity. It's like downing distilled heat, and once it makes its way to your belly you could swear you'd never feel cold again even in the dead of winter. Also it tastes rather like the ripest tomatoes you could hope to encounter.
<Cidward> "That," Ione observes, "is courage. Or some lack of wits approximating it," she adds with a smile.
<Cidward> Julia's wine dances on her tongue. It's almost hard to believe there's anything there, so light is it, but it leaves a sweet taste in your mouth and slithers down your throat like mist. The singer closes her eyes and embarks on some heartfelt lament.
<Steph> Stephanie exhales a cloud of steam, and nods in satisfaction. "Julia, you gotta learn to cook this," she says. "So, hey, you can't turn yourself to stone?" she asks Ione, cheerily.
<Julia> "I'll see if I can wrangle a few recipes out of the cook, certainly," Julia agrees good naturedly, always happy to add more recipes to her repertoire.
<Cidward> "Well, I would be a disaster of fashion if I could never look in a mirror, would I not?" Ione says to Stephanie.
<Steph> "What about other medusas? Medusae?"
<Cidward> She shakes her head, which provokes a chittering of mild irritation from the nest of snakes. "Though I've read we remain easy prey to other races with similar abilities. I've not had opportunity to find out myself."
<Steph> "It must give you such an advantage when you're conducting job interviews!"
<Cidward> "I don't seek to terrify my employees into compliance," she says defensively. "Ah, but that is not to say that it doesn't happen anyway," she admits.
<Julia> "Even the sweetest of us can sometimes let loose a little raw terror," Julia agrees readily.
<Cidward> Rosemund, working on a mug of ale from the Prime, boldly announces: "I should like to see your face sometime. I took a potion a few days ago and should be immune to any ill effects!"
<Steph> "It is reliable? We don't know where to go if something happens!"
<Julia> "Yes, you are the only one who can cure the condition, Rosemund," Julia says, worry evident in her voice.
<Cidward> "Well--well, this is the safest place to test that, is it not?" Rosemund says. "And if anything happens, I feel sure that the priestess at the Union would be happy to help anyone."
<Steph> "For a price," laments Stephanie.
<Cidward> Ione smiles. "I could hardly refuse the challenge if you're so certain of yourself," she says. "It's not often I find opportunity to talk to someone face to face, so to speak. Perhaps we'll see, if your boldness holds through the evening. And yes, I imagine Reverend Bernadette would assist if your resilience proves, ah, less potent than imagined."
<Steph> Stephanie holds another spoon filled with burning brew aloft. "What was it like growing up with lethal powers?"
<Cidward> "You feel as though you can solve any problem just by flashing your eyes at someone," she recalls. "What you learn, if you live long enough, is that sometimes you only cause more problems."
<Steph> "Oh, for sure. 'cos everyone knows who did it when you do it like that," agrees Stephanie.
<Cidward> The songstress finishes her set with a passionate ballad and an elven string ensemble takes her place onstage. "Your lesson would be to employ more subtlety in our revenges, then?" Ione concludes.
<Julia> "It's a good thing I didn't develop any of my necromancy until I was a teenager," Julia says considering that.
<Cidward> "Power is ill wielded by the immature," Ione agrees.
<Steph> "Yeah, like, it's tricky when you look a bit monstrous because everyone is just looking for an excuse anyway," muses Stephanie. "Least, it's like that back home." She pouts for a a moment. "Develop. Naturally, right? That must be so swell. Just waking up one day and being able to do magic?"
<Cidward> Ione nods in recognition at Stephanie's words. "It's like that in many places. Speaking of, you must tell me all about where you've been. You did mention the plane of Earth. Were there others?"
<Julia> "Not exactly," Julia shakes her head. "I mean, I didn't learn any of it from books or tutors, and it all comes very easily, but I had to experiment to really bring things to their full potential. Even now I'm still learning new spells over time."
<Steph> "Where've we been? Uh, Arborea, Earth, Arcadia, Fire, Limbo..."
<Julia> "Yes, Arborea was first. An elf there tried to do unspeakable things to us, but we met a nice sorceress and some pleasantly strange fairies on our travels there before we confronted the fairy collector of people called Blackbird."
<Julia> "Wait no, Limbo was first. It was just very brief."
<Steph> Stephanie shudders. "I still think those elves were the most horrible things we've seen."
<Cidward> Rosemund frowns. "They were very disturbing, but the soldiers on Fire were the very worst!"
<Cidward> Ione sits back and swishes about a glass of red wine. "Did any of your extraplanar travels not involve anything dreadful happening?" she wonders.
<Steph> "I'll admit they're worse in any moral sense," agrees Stephanie. "But... uh, I'm used to seeing things like that..." She snorts. "Most of Arborea's not so bad? Our return trips are nice."
<Julia> "Oh, far worse definitely," Julia agrees. Then answers that question with, "Limbo. It was too brief I think for the horribleness to occur."
<Cidward> A nod as she works through a mouthful of pasta. Then: "Well, I should hope you found something of beauty amongst the horror. That is the trick to living, in my experience."
<Steph> "It's the moment right after you stick it into some slaving bastard," says Stephanie, nodding. "And the very last moment when he realises he's on the quick plunge down."
<Julia> "Well we've managed to meet nice people to counterbalance the awfulness everywhere we go," Julia concludes, getting back to her pasta. "Except on Arcadia I suppose."
<Steph> "The regular people were nice enough?"
<Julia> "Yes... they just didn't stand out did they? Not compared to Mercedes or Marina - or Ione here," she indicates their gracious hostess.
<Steph> "Yeah. A little too nice, really?"
<Cidward> "'Too nice?'" Ione asks curiously. "I confess I've never been there. Little reputation for artistic ability, you see."
<Steph> Stephanie nods to herself. "It's like... some story, some fairy tale, right? At the end. When the demon is slain and everything's back to normal and the writing stops and people live happily ever after. In other words, boring."
<Julia> "Yes. If you just looked at a painting of Arcadia you'd think it was wonderful. The first glance is like that, but as you stay there it begins to drag."
<Cidward> "It was pleasant but, ah, there was a little the sense of...everyone the same everywhere?" Rosemund concludes. "Peace is a wonderful thing, of course! But it does not make for much excitement."
<Steph> Stephanie snaps her fingers. "Like, while I was there I had that nasty feeling you talked about before. Like the plane hates you."
<Steph> "But not hate, exactly," she muses. "More like it's some snooty noblewoman who thinks I'm too trashy for her!"
<Steph> She pauses. "But, uh, who is otherwise a decent sort. I guess."
<Cidward> The waitress reappears at your side. "I trust dinner was satisfactory?" she starts. "Do our guests require more to drink?"
<Steph> "Oh, uh, sure. Something cold?"
<Julia> "Yes, it was very good," Julia says, placing her fork and knife together on her plate. "Another drink would be nice, thank you."
<Cidward> Rosemund, emboldened by the day's successes, requests something hearty and strong from Ysgard. Soon the waitress delivers a refill of Ione's red wine, an identical serving for Julia, something gold and fizzing in a heavy iron tankard for Rosemund, and a metal goblet crackling with frost for Stephanie. Mist rises from this substance just as it did from her stew, but this time it's an icy cloud.
<Cidward> Ione sips at her wine. "Well, have you any thoughts to how we should pass the rest of our evening? As I said, Azure is rife with diversions."
<Steph> "Is there a flea market? I wanna get my dad a souvenir this time."
<Julia> "I'm not too sure," Julia admits, sipping her wine. "I rarely enough seek out such diversions back home. Care to give some examples?"
<Steph> "Hah! You're missing out!"
<Cidward> "All manner of curiosities pass through our shops," Ione confirms. "What did you have in mind?" Julia finds her wine dry, sharp, very refined. "Well, I suppose it depends on your energy level. There are those who like to mark the successful conclusion of a tough battle with even more vigorous celebrations, dancing for example. Others of us prefer to relax in a spa. Broadly speaking, 'mingle' or 'unwind' constitute the principle methods of relaxation," Ione explains to the one untutored in such pastimes.
<Julia> "A spa sounds good to me!"
<Steph> "I'm not sure. Some trinket that you can only get on Azure? Or on the Plane of Air?" muses Stephanie. "Some cute little magical thing?"
<Cidward> "Mm. I'm sure that we can find something. Well, let us attend to the curio shops for Stephanie's request and then find some place to pass the rest of our evening in vigorous lack of motion?" she concludes, draining her glass.
<Julia> Julia likewise drains her glass, though given her weak constitution it leaves her feeling a little light-headed.
<Steph> Stephanie chugs down her frosty drink, revelling in getting to drink something that can actually cool her down.
<Cidward> Stephanie's drink more than counters the effect of her stew, leaving a pleasantly cool core at her very center and causing her breath to mist in the air for some time. Ione slips a handful of coins to the waitress as you depart. "My compliments to the chef as always," she says in parting. She leads the group in floating across the spiral of Azure, the slitted red eye of the portal passing far beneath you, and ends up in an arm of the city dominated by floating stalls and proper shops both. All manner of wares are on display--magical, martial, the merely artistic, exotic foods of all kinds. Ione selects for Stephanie's benefit a bright and airy bazaar of jewelry and other assorted gewgaws.
<Steph> "Hey, Julia, you're planning to live, or, uh, un-live forever, right?" Stephanie asks, not sure what she's looking for but knowing she'll know it when she sees it. Something like a little tornado that's endlessly spinning inside a glass dome.
<Julia> "That's the general plan, yes," Julia responds amiably.
<Steph> "What're you gonna do with all that time?"
<Cidward> Stephanie finds plenty of choices in exactly that vein! Ione chuckles as your attention is drawn to a display of little lockets holding up various glass containers for restless little winds. "Some of these can be worn," she explains. "They are enchanted to respond to the mood of the wearer." There's also a row of paperweight-sized trapped winds as well.
<Steph> "Dad's not big for jewelry. But hey, I am!" remarks Stephanie, picking out a dome containing a wind tunnel for her father, and a locket for herself.
<Julia> "Probably the same things I do with my time now," she shrugs. "I suppose it's possible I'll go insane and become one of those evil lich masterminds you sometimes hear about, but I think if I can handle necromancy responsibly as a mostly living person then it won't change much to be mostly dead."
<Cidward> Rosemund's attention is drawn to a lightweight framework contraption floating along a gust of wind dramatically circulating the open center of the bazaar. It looks like light canvas stretched over a bamboo frame, with a magnificent set of golden wings painted along its length.
<Cidward> Stephanie's purchases total eight gold, she sees.
<Cidward> "What is that for?" Rosemund asks, pointing to straps evidently meant to restrain a rider or bearer of the object. "Could you fly with it?"
<Steph> It feels like a tremendous bargain- in fact, couldn't she charge ludicrous sums for these things back home? She racks her brains to determine the going price for trinkets like this in Solata's markets.
<Cidward> They must be common as dirt here. Stephanie could safely mark them up by fifty percent at home!
<Steph> "How much for everything?" Stephanie asks, sizing up the stall.
<Cidward> Ione follows Rosemund's gaze. "It's meant to ride existing winds, of which we have in inexhaustible quantity here. Not exactly a substitute for wings, but if you hauled it up a tall tower you could glide quite a ways."
<Cidward> The shopkeep, drawn by the magic of Stephanie's offer, appears in short order. With some quick mental calculations, he concludes: "Five hundred for the lot, miss."
<Cidward> "Oh," Rosemund says, sounding a little disappointed. "I expect that I will miss flying everywhere when we go home."
<Steph> "Done," decides Stephanie, dropping her bag on the counter. "Fill it up!" She pokes her fingers together and glances at Rosemund. "You could save up and get a flying carpet?" she says, encouragingly.
<Julia> "Or I could make wings you can graft on like that woman did with Friday's wings on earth," Julia says, figuring that's a useful skill to have.
<Cidward> As the shopkeep busies himself loading up Stephanie's order, Rosemund looks uncertain. "I do not know," she says. "They would not...have to be taken from someone else, would they? I would not approve of that. But maybe if you could make them from scratch..."
<Julia> "That would be a lot harder," Julia admits. "But I could try."
<Steph> "And it would be expensive! It would definitely be expensive! Perhaps moreso than the carpet."
<Cidward> "Well--well, if you can do this without engaging in anything *too* horrible," Rosemund starts, unwanted visions of Julia's unwitnessed experiments no doubt flashing through her brain, "I should be very happy with the result, I am sure."
<Cidward> "We do have flying carpets around here," Ione clarifies. "Or there could be boots if you prefer, rather cheaper."
<Steph> "I can't afford one right now," admits Stephanie. "Why, though? People here can all fly already!"
<Cidward> "Sometimes people have something that needs hauling," Ione says with a shrug.
<Cidward> Rosemund shakes her head. "Is it not more romantic being able to fly on your own power? That no one can take away from you!"
<Julia> "Yes, things that are innate to yourself are always better than mere items that can be mislaid or broken," Julia agrees.
<Steph> "Can't you pray for it, somehow?" asks Stephanie, scratching her head. "It's, you know, getting closer to Pelor!"
<Cidward> "I suppose that I can," Rosemund admits. "Oh, but I am sure that many people simply wish that they could fly. There are more important prayers for the gods to attend to, I am sure!"
<Steph> "No way, it's tactically useful!"
<Cidward> She frowns. "Well, I suppose that it is," she admits, "but that is still less important than feeding the poor or curing the ill."
<Cidward> The shopkeep hands over a heavy bag to Stephanie with a clink.
<Steph> It takes her some time to count out the appropriate coins, but afterwards, Stephanie puts the bag of trinkets into her extradimensional bag, and states she's ready to go. "Well, I suppose," she muses. "We're often ill, though rarely poor..."
<Cidward> Ione makes her way midway down Azure toward a sprawling collection of crystal spheres with the label SERENE WINDS emblazoned over the central node. "We are very far from poor," Rosemund agrees. "I shall have to donate appropriately the next time we are home. It has been some time!"
<Cidward> Ione floats in through the open door. Inside, passages radiate off in all directions. Pleasant harp music is piped in from somewhere else in the building and the lobby is spiced up with a tasteful array of exotic plants. A pretty elf maid waits behind the front desk. "What's your pleasure?" Ione asks. "Massage, sauna, bath...?"
<Steph> Stephanie grimaces. "Frankly, dear, the church should be paying you for this," she notes. Her grimace falls away a moment later. "Oh, a massage," she says, dreamily.
<Julia> "Yes, a massage sounds lovely," Julia agrees.
<Cidward> "I may have more money than the church at present," Rosemund says with a trace of guilt. "I have never had a massage," Rosemund says for the business at hand. "It is not, ah, too intimate is it?" she adds somewhat nervously.
<Steph> "Uh... um," Stephanie leans in to whisper to Rosemund. "It can be. Ask for a lady to do it to you if you want to dodge that."
<Cidward> Rosemund nods with a blush. "Massage for four," Ione instructs the receptionist. "Very good," the elf notes. "Shall I book individual rooms or would milady be more comfortable with her friends present?" she asks, evidently noting Rosemund's brief flutter. Rosemund shrugs, then: "I am sure that I will be fine on my own!" she says resolutely. "I have faced far more imposing foes than shyness and always triumphed!" Another nod from the receptionist. "Do our other guests have a gender preference?"
<Julia> "Just so long as they have strong hands I don't care," Julia waves it off. She wants a massage, not a happy ending.
<Steph> "Yeah, well, you can't bash in shyness with a mace," mumbles Stephanie, before shrugging. "'slong as they know how to handle a tail."
<Cidward> The receptionist smiles at Stephanie. "We are far from unfamiliar with guests of your particular heritage," she notes without judgement. "As you could perhaps guess from our proximity, it's not uncommon in Azure." For her own part, Ione merely requests her usual. Soon enough the party has stowed their belongings in a locker and exchanged clothes for towel wraps (though Ione retains her veil as ever). Leading you all down a corridor lined with doors to your right, Ione notes of Rosemund: "Aren't we rather old to be so bashful?"
<Steph> "Rosie's never had so much as a crush on someone! She's pure as pure can be!"
<Cidward> "I might have!" Rosemund says defensively. "I have simply never found time for romance. There is always work to be done, you know."
<Steph> "Excuses!"
<Cidward> "Oh, I am sure there will be plenty of time for that sort of thing once our adventure is over," she protests.
<Julia> "I don't know. It keeps getting more and more complicated..."
<Steph> "Oh, I suppose I'm wrong," muses Stephanie. "There was that angel, was there? You won't meet anyone like that in Solata..."
<Cidward> "It must end someday," Rosemund insists. "Everything has an ending to it, yes?" To Stephanie: "Oh, I would not insist everyone be an angel. But I should like it if he at least aspired to be one..." she says hopefully.
<Steph> Stephanie snorts. "Your future husband is in for a trial," she says, in mild awe.
<Cidward> There are four servers waiting for you at the end of the hall, each wearing simple white tunics. A demure, pleasant elven brunette bows deeply to Rosemund. The others are more evidently human: a handsome young man with long ivory hair drifting in its own private breeze, a strong-looking woman with inky skin, and a tall man with curly blond hair and chiseled features. This last takes Ione's hand.
<Cidward> "Well I do not think anyone ever said that love was easy," Rosemund says to Stephanie in parting. "Ah, not that that is what I am here for today!" she hurriedly clarifies for her masseuse.
<Julia> The remaining woman looks like she could armwrestle the remaining man and win, so Julia approaches her. "I'll be in your care, now," she says. With her skin able to deflect daggers she really needs someone who'll put their back into it.
<Steph> "Let's go, hot stuff," says Stephanie, sizing up the airheaded man before her and throwing him a challenging stare.
<Cidward> The staff proves capably as skilled as could be hoped for. Julia's masseuse quickly grasps the degree of force required to work the knots out of deep tissue with her sturdy guest and is soon kneading with a vigor that would leave a normal person bruised and aching (but for Julia simply succeeds in melting away all those aches and pains). Stephanie's partner merely raises an eyebrow and smiles in response before leading her into her room. As specially requested, he takes special care to pay delicate attention to the fine musculature of a fiendish tail and altogether responds with whatever degree of solicitousness Stephanie might require. Afterward, with all the myriad stresses and pains of long travel washed away by the staff's careful touch, Ione recollects the group in a private pool. The room is oddly spherical, with the waist-high water clinging to the outer walls and leaving the center airy.
<Cidward> "Well, Rosemund has spoken her part," Ione says airily. "I wonder if I could press to know whether all your romantic prospects are so hypothetical."
<Cidward> Rosemund, for her part, looks exceedingly relaxed in contrast to her initial awkwardness.
<Steph> "I met someone who was just like me, but a guy!" muses Stephanie. "And... there just wasn't a spark at all!"
<Julia> "I'm still waiting for mister right..." Julia sighs. "I tend to put people off, so finding partners is difficult at the best of times, and even those I have found haven't ever lasted long."
<Cidward> "Well it's often suggested that we seek in partners what we lack in ourselves," Ione notes for Stephanie. "Your experience suggests a need to look for someone quite different from yourself, yes?" To Julia: "Well, I cannot see why. You have been perfectly pleasant and attractive in my limited experience."
<Steph> "Well, Julia said before she never goes out," points out Stephanie. "You aren't gonna find anyone staying home!"
<Cidward> "Too true," Ione agrees. "One can hardly expect results waiting for love to find her. You must seek it out!"
<Steph> "But Rosey does have a point. I mean, as far as right now goes?" points out Stephanie. "We're travelling everywhere, we might get killed, potential suitors only see this tight-knit group of dangerous unapproachable women..."
<Julia> "I'm barely home at all!" Julia insists. "I spend all my time travelling the planes. What time I have at home I try and devote to research and experimentation... which is where the offputting comes in I suppose. Also the negative energy that constantly clings to me," she holds up a hand that crackles with life-sucking potential briefly.
<Cidward> Ione clicks her tongue. "Ah, yes. I understand. Being an object of curiosity does not necessarily guarantee a profusion of proper long-term prospects..." To Stephanie: "But you see, that is only more reason that you must be active in your own search! If it is of genuine importance to you, that is."
<Steph> "But what about before- eww," says Stephanie, grimacing. "Umm. Can you, uh, um..." Stephanie wrings her hands, and then glances at Ione, glad for a distraction. "I want to settle down one day! So it is!" she declares. "I wanna prove a tiefling can go legit!"
<Cidward> "I should think one can do whatever she likes given determination," Ione says approvingly.
<Steph> Stephanie nods firmly. "Not that I'm not," she adds, worriedly. "But there's only so much you can do as a traveller, right?" she muses. "I dunno if I want to be full-time in the fighting business all my life, right? It messes with your head sometimes."
<Cidward> Sensing a lull in the conversation, a very calm and certain Rosemund sits up and announces a commitment to her earlier suggestion: "Ah, there is no one else around to accidentally see or anything, assuming Stephanie and Julia close their eyes. I think that we should test this potion out, somewhere it is perfectly safe!"
<Cidward> Ione looks to Rosemund's teammates here. "I don't know if the management would appreciate the stigma of having a customer turned to stone on their premises."
<Julia> "Turned to jelly maybe, but not stone," Julia agrees.
<Cidward> "We should be certain before it becomes important in a real battle," Rosemund insists.
<Steph> "Well, yes, but... can't we do it at the Concordant's joint? So we don't need to carry you there?"
<Julia> "Excellent idea!"
<Cidward> "Oh, I suppose," Rosemund relents. "It would be very embarassing if you had to carry me across town as a naked statue--not that there is a possibility of that happening," she adds confidently. Ione nods. "If you're sure...are we all ready to leave?"
<Julia> "Yes, I think I'm quite relaxed enough," Julia announces, standing up.
<Steph> "But I just want to nap, now," admits Stephanie, stretching.
<Cidward> "You can stay if you like," Ione points out, rising from the pool to towel herself off. "Young Rosemund seems quite determined, but you hardly need to join in her folly...of course, someone should be on hand to explain the situation to the Union."
<Julia> "I'll come along. It won't take long after all," Julia says, floating over to grab a towel herself.
<Steph> "I'll see you all later," drawls Stephanie.
<Cidward> The Union takes some convincing to allow such an experiment to proceed on their premises, but familiarity with all the parties involved eventually wins out and you're given a small cell for your business. Rosemund stands on one side of the room, arms defiantly crossed before her. Ione toys with the corner of her veil. "Your gaze is properly averted, Julia?" she asks to confirm.
<Julia> "Indeed," Julia says, facing away and with her eyes closed for good measure.
<Cidward> Julia hears a rustle of fabric, a sharp intake of breath from Rosemund, and then: "Well, I do not see what is so terrifying about that." A chuckle from Ione, then: "I shall take that as a compliment. It's alright now, Julia," she calls back.
<Julia> Julia opens her eyes and turns back to the other two. "Happy with that then, Rosemund?"
<Cidward> Rosemund nods. Ione observes, "I've had people come to me with such self-assurance before. It always turns out they'd been swindled by some con artist. It appears this time someone found the real thing." The medusa sounds just slightly unnerved at this development.
<Cidward> "I would not attempt anything so bold if my confidence were not rooted in fact!" Rosemund concludes.
<Cidward> ~