2017-03-22: Which Witch

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 <Pose Tracker> Agatha Pyrelight has posed.

It has been a little while since the expedition into the Hillside Ruins which had produced such a profitable find. Of course, those who had participated had already been paid for their trouble, although the final disposition of the Metal Dragon Fang they had uncovered had not yet been revealed... or decided. But all things considered, the deepening night made it clear that the time for carousing and socializing was probably over, and it was about time to head back to comfortable lodgings and await the rising of the sun.

After all, even here in peaceful Adelhyde, it was impossible to say what would go bump in the night.

But shortly after Talise and Ida emerge from what is likely another planning session (or just night in the tavern socializing), they will receive an odd feeling. Even at this time of night there should be at least some people in the street, and yet this particular stretch of road is completely empty. No one wanders along the sidewalks, and no strangers lounge on the side of the road. Even the alleys seem clear and untroubled.

It is the sort of calm one might expect before the storm. And in this case, the silence speaks.

"So I hear that you ladies were wanting to have a word with me," a sultry voice comments from above. Ida has heard it before, of course - Agatha was not shy about speaking during their previous adventure. But the fire haired woman is lounging atop the easement of a nearby building, a long pipe held delicately in one hand. Black eyes look down at the pair of women, the yellow irises glowing faintly in the night... and then a tiny flash of flame, as the witch conjures a spark to light the pipe.

"Well, I am always willing to grant such heartfelt requests. After all..." And the witch smiles, turning so she can let her legs hang down over the edge of the awning. "...how can I say no to such impassioned souls such as yourselves?" 

 <Pose Tracker> Talise Gianfair has posed.

Talise got into town and realized someone put her face on a poster above a dollar sign. She got out of town a few minutes later and changed her hairstyle. It's parted from the middle now, proving just long enough to hide her ears. She's kept the large seafarer's coat she picked up on the way to Port Timney, rounding it out with a bandanna - do-rag style - patterned with white on a green base. It doesn't hide her cheekstripes or her size but nothing's going to do that without being obvious, so she'll settle for keeping the ears out of sight.

Slipping out of the tavern, Talise smiles over at Ida, fussing with one of the cuffs of her jacket. "--and that's why I'd love to learn more about how you guys do archaeology and science and such," she continues explaining. "I was pretty good at that stuff back home, and--"

Then someone speaks up, here in the middle of a suspiciously empty street. She draws to a halt, holding an arm out in front of Ida to stop her.

Then comes a voice. It's not one Talise recognizes. She lifts her eyes -

Reminded of her disastrous run-in with Layla, Talise rolls her sholders and folds her arms, giving the watching witch a long, steady look. She can't quite make out her eyes at first - until that pipe sparks and she spots yellow on black. Her jaw tightens.

"Ida," she asks, voice level, "do you know this woman?" 

 <Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

Adlehyde is starting to feel familiar. Ida's settled into an easy rhythm of field work and downtime, punctuated by requests from Dr. Oxford and the other expedition members. She seems to have earned enough of their trust to have gained independence--a fact that has not escaped Ida. If she had easy access to the fossil, she figures it would be a simple matter to ensure its permanent deposition into the university's collection. The one problem, of course, is the matter of the dig patron being a thoroughly creepy woman who tried to pull one over on Sephilia when no one else was looking. Ida is not looking forward to the inevitable confrontation. She is already trying to figure out what Talise did to anger Aveh enough to acquire a bounty, a fact which quietly scares her.

She is walking down the street, enjoying the crisp night air, when the confrontation happens. "I'd be glad to teach you," Ida says. "I--" A familiar voice addresses her. It sounds like the auditory equivalent of a cold hand on the back of her neck. "Miss Agatha," Ida says. She is the very picture of politeness as she looks up at the woman on the awning. (How did she get up there?) "A pleasure to see you. I hope you didn't trouble yourself in coming all this way..." 

 <Pose Tracker> Agatha Pyrelight has posed.

"Oh I've come a very long way, Miss Ida - far longer than you might have imagined a few short months ago. But since I am here, I decided that I might as well do what I can to be of assistance to those poor souls who have been trapped here on this rather dreary, sand swept wasteland." Agatha pauses to take a drag of her pipe, and exhales a small smoke ring which drifts down to the ground in front of Ida and Talise.

The fact that it doesn't break up despite the breeze is made only slightly less creepy than the fact that it leaves a pitch black circle where it lands.

"I do wonder though at the company you keep. Such familiarity with such disreputable folk - is it a professional or personal interest, I wonder?" There is something to Agatha that is subtly more creepy than the last time she and Ida had spoken and worked together - that sense of the otherworldly is much stronger now, and despite the fact that the breeze tonight is not really that noticeable, the witch's cloak and robes ripple and move as if it were far stronger.

The fact that part of her mantle seems to crush a fly that buzzes past is probably a trick of the light, of course. 

 <Pose Tracker> Talise Gianfair has posed.

Thoughts of history get put aside for now because Talise can sense an ambush brewing - or at least a frontal attack on a deserted street. If nothing else, she can tell it's dangerous now.

"Oh. Well then. The famous Miss Agatha," Talise quips with a cant of her head. "Here I've been wondering when I'd get to meet her. What a treat. What. A. Treat." She shifts her footing, her arms coming up behind her head in a deceptively casual stretch. The smoke ring is noticed with a glance; she pretends it doesn't bother her, but she's getting a vibe. Somehow this seems like something she should recognize.

"Oh, I know, I know, Ida just keeps the worst company ever. I mean, I don't know /how/ she can stand to be around you, knowing what you get up to," the tall woman huffs before bringing her arms down, one coming to rest at her hip. Her sea coat crackles heavily around her thighs. Eyes narrowing, she watches the woman for a couple more seconds.

"So I hear you've been trying to scam my friends," she says, her tone much flatter now. 

 <Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

Ida knew she was dealing with some manner of sorceress, but sorcery is not her forte; she doesn't know how Agatha's doing what she's doing, only that she's doing it, and it is deeply unsettling. It's like there's an element to her that reaches into her subconscious and presses the fear-reaction button, but only a little. "Talise," Ida says, in response to her partner's threat display. She is still smiling ever-so-slightly, as though this were nothing more than a meeting with a well-meaning but annoying relative.

Inwardly, she is both angry and terrified, but Ida's public face has been a necessary part of her life. Losing control of her emotions in public would be like bleeding in the water, back where she comes from. Social conditioning has won out, for now.

"I know," Ida says. She gives her friend a reassuring nod. "I'm a little concerned myself, yes. Perhaps you could give your account?" 

 <Pose Tracker> Agatha Pyrelight has posed.

Talise's accusation brings an amused laugh to Agatha's lips. She tilts her head, her black eyes taking in the beastwoman for a brief moment. "Oh, scammed is it? Dear woman, I do not *lie* to my clients. It would be... improper. After all, I am engaging to provide them with a service. One that, sadly, has been further complicated by your young friend's inability to uphold part of her own terms."

The witch's face carries a languid, amused expression - if Agatha is actually perturbed by the threatening behavior, she shows no sign of it in the least. "My work is highly personalized, created to fulfill the needs of each of my clients. That you would express what I offer as a mere scam is displeasing to me as a professional." Another long drag on the pipe, and another exhaled cloud of smoke. It twists in the air for a moment, taking the shape of a swooping dragon as it crosses the street before finally dispersing as it strikes the building on the far side.

"After all, when someone engages my services, I always give them exactly what it is they desire." 

 <Pose Tracker> Talise Gianfair has posed.

"Oh, I'm sure you're totally honest and upstanding and completely above board, aren't you," Talise quips with a mocking smirk. "Yes, you sure are. You're just a real special-"

She cuts off as Ida gives her a verbal nudge. Inhaling, she rolls her shoulders beneath the heavy drape of her sea coat, shifting her footing to better position one heel against the street - just in case she needs to move - but at least she pauses and gives some more thought to how she can actually talk this woman down here.

Part of her wants to leave it to Ida. Ida's the smart one. She's the one who's polite.

Then she remembers something. Closing her eyes for a moment, she inhales through her nose, then lets it out. (Do not let your anger rule you.)

She opens her eyes, watching the dragon fly with outward impassiveness. (Don't let it rule you.) Green eyes dart back to the perched witch, hand remaining at her hip, though she hasn't gone for a weapon yet. "Then why don't you explain to us what kind of services you provide, so we can judge for ourselves," she suggests. 


 <Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

Ida watches the smoke dragon as it drifts languidly across the street. Is she simply making images as an idle display, or was that one a pointed statement? Talise seems to have calmed down, at least, and that's good. It means she can focus more on herself, and about how the meeting with Professor Levron has given everything a strange new urgency.

"I agree," Ida says, to Talise. "Perhaps an explanation is in order." 

 <Pose Tracker> Agatha Pyrelight has posed.

"Judge for yourselves?" Agatha asks, mildly. Very mildly.

And then the grin spreads across her face. A cruel, amused grin. "Judge. For. Youreslves." She rolls the words around in her mouth, as if she could taste the feel of them.

And then she laughs uproariously.

A sharp, cruel laugh, clearly mocking of Talise's words, and not anything that is guaranteed to improve her temper. "Oh judge for yourself, oh very good. You are a fine follower of the Goddess, are you not?" Agatha leans over the edge of the awning, and kicks her feet for a moment as she considers what to say next.

"After all, is that not the creed of your Goddess? Shelter those who are too weak to protect themselves. Judge their affairs for them, and only allow that which you deem worthy into their lives?" Agatha leans back, and points her pipe accusingly at Talise.

"And yet you find her protection chafing now, do you not? When she states 'Do not do this, for it is not pleasing to me', do you bow your head because mother knows best? Or do you chafe and struggle against her restrictions, because you wish to live your own life?"

The pipe flips over in Agatha's hands as she cases the ash within aside, and the pipe itself vanishes into her sleeve a moment later. "I offer the freedom to choose your own path in life. Young Sephy clearly desires to return home, to her family. I offered her a path forward that will bring her back to her world." 

 <Pose Tracker> Talise Gianfair has posed.

Talise does not like being laughed at.

The tall woman narrows her eyes as she looks up at Agatha, her jaw setting a little more tightly. (Don't let your anger rule you, Talise. Don't do it. Do. Not.)

The witch rants; Tal forces out a slow rush of breath through her nose. It's a bitter topic; it bothers her, glawing at her in ways she wishes it didn't. "That's between me and the Goddess. /You/ have nothing to do with it," she states flatly. "What's between you and me is you making a bunch of promises to Sephilia and then telling her not to tell anyone about it or else. And somehow, I don't believe you /have/ a path home for her, do you?" 

 <Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

Ida only has a sketchy outline of the religious situation on Lunar, wherever this 'Lunar' is--but it's enough to ensure that the above doesn't go completely over her head. It's also blindingly obvious that this is a sore spot for Talise, and that Agatha knows exactly what she's doing by needling it.

And yet, Talise had no idea who she was until just now. Is there an educated guess in play, or is it... something else? Fear bubbles up in the back of Ida's mind; she takes a step back before she realizes what she's doing. She does not have Devil's Due, and she finds herself wishing she did. "And the price?" Ida says. Somehow she doubts there is a purely philanthropic motive. Everything about Agatha is screaming otherwise. 

 <Pose Tracker> Agatha Pyrelight has posed.

"If you believe me or not is immaterial, nor is what she must do to return home any of your concern," Agatha replies, still doing her best to project the voice of sweet reason besides her otherwise disturbing presence. The juxtaposition is something that she rather enjoys, and she can see that she's touched more than a few nerves. Enjoyable, ever so enjoyable.

"After all, I made the offer to young Sephilia - and she accepted. She truly wishes to see her parents, and I am willing to help her return home to make that happen. And let us be frank here... neither of you can actually *stop* me from helping her."

And Agatha's eyes widen slightly, and the air in the vicinity begins to grow hotter, the shadows cast by the moon and stars lengthening as if they were reaching out for the two women on the street. "Unless of course you wish to strike a bargain, that I would cast poor sweet Sephilia aside and leave her to her face, trapped here on this world without her family. But my price for abandoning a client once they have asked for my help is steep. You would need to make considerable sacrifices for such a thing, and to be honest you've shown me nothing to excite my interest thus far." 

 <Pose Tracker> Talise Gianfair has posed.

Talise still has no idea who this woman is. Or rather, had no idea about five minutes ago. "Sephilia," she says simply, "is in my care. That's all I need to know."

The so-called Lady Agatha tells her more. The air heats up; words are spoken. Something clicks in the back of her mind.

With a sudden hiss of steel, Talise draws her weapon. The Rastaban Sword glints in the low, oppressive light of the evening, a subtle gleam catching not only the blade but the large green stone set into the pommel mount. Clicking her teeth together, she sets her heels apart and drops into a defensive stance. "So," she growls, her voice low and hard, tinged with a mix of disbelief and focus. "The old story of the witch who comes around demanding a burned sacrifice to fulfill your greatest desires. But there's always a price. Always something so horrible that it taints the soul forever. I knew a lot of people had wound up on Filgaia from Lunar.

"I didn't think they were desperate enough to take the /fucking Pyre Witch/ herself."

Her voice lowers. "Ida, we're in great danger," she mutters. 

 <Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

The fear is crawling up Ida's back. It's all she can do to keep her expression neutral, much less do so while watching both Agatha and Talise. A lump settles in her throat; Agatha just confirmed her worst fear, and if she's telling the truth, there's nothing they can do to help Sephilia short of sacrificing someone else. A tiny, desperate part of Ida hopes Agatha is lying, but the rest of her knows better. Her hands feel cold and clammy, despite the heat that just came out of nowhere. "I," is all Ida manages to get out before Talise draws her sword.

Ida's eyes shoot open. Her hands stop halfway to her revolvers before she realizes they're even in motion; she listens to Talise, taking very deep, measured breaths. "I see," she says, looking directly at Agatha. 

 <Pose Tracker> Agatha Pyrelight has posed.

"Mmmmhmmhmhm, it gives me tingles when you say it with so much venom," Agatha admits as Talise goes into her tirade. She reaches up and presses one pointed finger to her chin, and gives the beastwoman a sweet smile as a reward for her recitation.

"Of course, all those old stories are just wonderful to hear. You wouldn't believe how often I request them from a passing bard just to see how many people have the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end. Of course, there's always a few who realize that there's always a kernel of truth to those old legends." The witch crosses her legs, lacing her clawed hands in front of one knee as she rocks back and forth. "Mmmm... but you must have learned your rendition of the tale from... hmm, eastern Meribus? In Glenwood they always speak of my offerings as requests rather than demands."

And then Agatha slides forwards... and drifts to the ground, her cloak extending downwards until it just about touches the ground... and stops. She retains that same cross legged posture, except that her cloak has gathered itself like a stool that she is lounging upon, both witch and her accoutrements spurning the ground as if it were both figuratively and literally beneath her. "Well, now that you're both properly angry and afraid - and believe me, I enjoy that quite a bit, thank you o/~" she lilts, not making any further move to approach the two women. "I'll tell you something very interesting. Well, for a certain measure of 'interesting' at least."

Agatha leans forward, resting her chin on one hand as her mantle swirls behind her, giving off a faint light as if the flames that the Pyre Witch is named for flicker within.

"o/~ I came here of my oooown will, on my oooown two little feet. o/~" 

 <Pose Tracker> Talise Gianfair has posed.

Sliding her heel across the rough dirt of the street, Talise drops into a defensive stance; she's got her gauntlets on, with both hands gripping her sword tightly. A low growl builds in the back of her throat but she holds herself back from giving it more voice than that; it'd just give the witch what she wants. Nevertheless her expression lacks any of her usual easy jocularity.

In her time Talise has tangled with many a critter and even members of the Guard. She's never tangled with real evil. This is beyond her pay grade.

"Oh, trust me. What you did to Sephilia was wrong, but if you think I'm afraid of you, you're sorely mistaken," she growls, her scowl deepening as the fire witch floats down and seems to sit on open air like that. It's unnerving, no matter what she says. Her eyes follow the witch's movements and her ears take in words she really doesn't want to hear.

"You're lying," she says immediately. "And even if you weren't, you can't fool me. I've played your song to little kids before. Even if I believed you, you'd take more from me than I'm willing to give you. My soul's not for sale - and I'm not going to be fooled by you."

Her shoulders bunch visibly as she stands her ground. "And I won't let you fool anyone else, either," she states as she takes a single step to side, more to cover Ida than anything. 

 <Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

Damnation, Ida thinks. She is fortunate Talise is quicker, because she's caught flat-footed as Agatha suddenly abandons her perch. "Lord Granas Triumphant," she murmurs, forming a circle with her hands--a gesture the Church uses both as a benediction and a ward. "who casts out devils, preserve and protect us. Your wings shelter us." Her voice stumbles and trips as Agatha breaks into sing-song, and something that looks very much like hellfire shines behind her. She can't finish the prayer.

"Talise," Ida says again. She looks terrified. Whatever she was going to follow it up with flees from her mind. 


 <Pose Tracker> Agatha Pyrelight has posed.

For the first time Agatha looks a bit disappointed. She lets out a sigh, and settles back into her relaxed posture as she considers something. "I see that I'm going to have to work on the bards up north... either that or you're not as knowledgeable as I'd hoped. After all, the most dangerous thing about the Pyre Witch is she never lies, and always keeps her promises. After all, if I was just some demon that took people's souls at random, who would ever be interested in what I have to offer?"

And then those eyes look past Talise... and directly into Ida's, which is sure to creep her out quite a bit when push comes to shove. "I don't take anything from the people I help - I simply help them to fulfill their desire. Fire is the tool of civilization itself - and to those who wish to claim its power for their own ends, I make available the path."

There's something vaguely hypnotic about Agatha's glowing yellow irises, set against the black of the rest of her eyes. "But once they've taken up the brand, they cast off their shackles. Those that cling to the Goddess find such a possibility terrifying, of course. But as Althena's hand has become heavier, as she rejects the free will of her children in favor of keeping them safe, more cast off those shackles."

Those eyes turn to Talise again. "The fire burns in the cold darkness. Lost souls will always walk towards it, and cast in whatever is needed to survive their foolhardy adventure. The question, Talise, is will you be the fool... or the fuel?" 

 <Pose Tracker> Talise Gianfair has posed.

"Oh no. You just lure people into your little trap," Talise spits, her voice taking on a distinct venom, though she's not exactly raising it yet. "You prey on people's doubts and give them everything they always wanted, and you raise and raise and raise the price every time until they're giving you more than they bargained for. Don't tell me I don't know what you are." She bunches her shoulders but she's still holding herself back, remembering hard lessons learned against opponents who turned out to be beyond her.

She clicks her teeth together as Ida continues on. "That's a pretty monologue," she snorts, but can't really muster up a good poetic response to it.

Those yellow eyes are incredibly unsettling. Finally Talise glances over her shoulder, as if to make sure Ida's alright. "Stay with me," she urges, voice low. "Don't let her do to you what she did to Sephy. Stay with me!"

When Agatha questions her, the tall woman looks back. She's slow about it. A little of the colour has drained from her cheeks. She can hear her heart pounding against her rib cage. Wolves and boars are one thing; even Chiro Mongrels at least just run away. This--

A few seconds of silence follow.

Then, without a further word, she sets her jaw, takes a long, quick step forward, draws her arms back, and attempts to split Agatha down the middle with a hard overhand blow. 

 <Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

Ida cannot look away. It's like she's rooted in place, Agatha's words burrowing deep into her heart. She's only helping them on their way to freedom, she says. She's only giving them the means to finally help themselves. Ida is terrified and angry and horrified for Sephilia's sake, and perversely, there is a small part of her who understands what Agatha is doing. She's just a businesswoman, after all. Just like Ida will be, someday.

Talise speaks. It registers, somehow, and with what seems like immense effort, Ida tears her gaze away. Her eyes are starting to hurt. She twists away as Talise charges, choking back a cry of surprise. She is fairly sure she's about to watch her friend get immolated alive, or worse. 

 <Pose Tracker> Agatha Pyrelight has posed.

The blow itself is considerable - Talise brings her sword around, just as Agatha steps backwards and her mantle billows up around her. The sword stroke cuts through everything, apparently cleaving the witch completely in two as both halves of her cloak fall away to either side. But they don't fall like cloth - instead it's more like water, and it spreads out across the ground and seems to melt into the shadows as it does so.

Agatha's soft laugh seems to come from all around for a moment, a chortle that has many sources at once. But the laughter fades away for a moment, and the light from the stars and moons seem to return in full force as it departs.

The street is as it was a short time before, except for the gash in the ground where Talise's sword had struck it.

The witch is gone.

For now. 

 <Pose Tracker> Talise Gianfair has posed.

A large part of Talise is actually surprised she connected. Her sword slips through with less resistance than she expected.

At which point what she thought was a dead witch melts into shadows.

"What," she blurts out as that laugh rings out around her. Now she /is/ rattled. Her cheeks go pale as she backs up closer to Ida, gripping her sword hard enough that her knuckles whiten beneath her gauntlets. Twisting her head from here to there, she tries to identify the source of the laugh.

It's just like what happened with that shadow witch a couple of weeks ago. Her sword's not enough. How could it not be enough?

Even once the laughter and the shadow fade, Talise doesn't drop her defensive stance. Ida can see that she's breathing heavily and has broken out into a sweat. Exertion has nothing to do with it, judging from the wideness of her eyes.

Not much scares Talise. That did. A lot. 

 <Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

Agatha is struck, but does not die. Ida isn't sure if she was expecting her to.

She makes that gesture again, clasping her hands so her fingers and thumbs make a circle. She has no idea if Granas's power will protect her, but it's at least worth a try; as Agatha's laughter rings out from everywhere and nowhere, she is acutely aware of how vulnerable she is. She turns to Talise, her eyes still wide. "L--let's get home, at once," she says. 

 <Pose Tracker> Talise Gianfair has posed.

/Talise/ is acutely aware of how little she has in her bag of tricks for fighting something that melts into all-seeing shadow and spawns hellfire when it approaches. Part of her wishes Lynnai were here. She meets Ida's gaze; her eyes are wide now, too. "Yeah... yeah, let's go," she says as she sheathes her sword again, gesturing to the other woman.

She gets out of there. She's walking pretty god-damned fast right now, I'll tell you what.

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