2019-03-27: ARMing Up With the Alias Queen

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  • Log: ARMing Up With the Alias Queen
  • Cast: Clarissa Arwin, Marivel Armitage
  • Where: Somewhere on Spira
  • Date: March 27, 2019
  • Summary: Marivel invites Clarissa to discuss something. Revelations are had. Offers are made.

<Pose Tracker> Clarissa Arwin has posed.

The climate of Spira is hot and humid. It's doing a number on Clarissa. She's sweating quite a bit and her cheeks and forehead are flushed - and yet, she still hasn't changed out of her heavy waistcoat or found something other than a ribbon and turtleneck to wear. She's even still wearing those huge-cuffed gloves and boots. She looks like she's ready for autumn.

It doesn't help that she's been putting in a bit of exertion to get to this point. She'd heard that someone familiar was here - and that someone had asked her to talk later.

Catching sight of someone off in the distance, Clarissa wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, draws in a breath to call out--

Pauses with a frown. She can't figure out what name to call out. Is it Leviram? Is it Marie Valeria?

The question bothers her. It means 'Leviram' has been dishonest at least once.

There must have been good reason, Clarissa reasons. She seems like she has a decent heart otherwise. And besides....

"Hello," she calls across the distance instead as she approaches, her gait brisk and lively despite the fact that she must be sweltering. "You said there was something we needed to talk about?"

<Pose Tracker> Marivel Armitage has posed.

Marivel hates going out during the day but asking Clarissa to travel out to the moonflow during evening might be a touch dangerous so day it is. At the very least, a hot and humid Spira is--the Moonflow tends to be overcast so it's a little less horrible than it would be elsewhere along the Spiran Islands.

Marivel is seated by the river, staring out over the river as if expecting to find something there.

She is as shrouded as she ever is, though she has traded her straw hat for a heavier black mage style hat.

She says, "Needed? Mmm...Needed."

She pats the spot she's sitting in the grass near her to indicate Clarissa should sit with her.

Whether Clarissa sits down or not, the shrouded woman stares ahead with her red eyes. "The pyreflies, they're called. So I've been told. But you can't see them until the evening. Most people do not walk at night. Is your companion nearby?"

Getting the basics out of the way first, it seems.

<Pose Tracker> Clarissa Arwin has posed.

Clarissa may be a seasoned Drifter, but Spira is unfamiliar territory. Falling in the Moonflow would be....

...Well, okay, it might be welcome. Even if it is a little cooler here.

At the sight of Marivel, the blonde girl dips her head and smiles politely. Her own hat isn't nearly so covering, but she adjusts it nevertheless, moving to sette into the grass where Marivel urges her to settle. She smooths her hands over her thighs as she settles back to sit on her calves, turning her eyes towards the open space just around them.

"I've seen them out, a little," she says, her smile gentle and fond. "They're really beautiful. This entire land is very beautiful, isn't it? A little warm, but it has a life to it that Filgaia doesn't. It makes me...."

She trails off, a look obscure sadness flickering as she hangs her head.

The shrouded woman has an on-point question, though, and Clarissa perks up a little. "Oh! Oh yes, Felius is still here. Wherever we go, we go together. That's how family should work, I think."

Not far away, Felius is standing by the riverbank, intently watching a fish swimming around.

<Pose Tracker> Marivel Armitage has posed.

"You seem to be a woman of your passions," Marivel says. "I am certain you are wondering why I give different names now and then. Well, as time passes, Clarissa, you start to find that just one identity isn't enough to move through your life. You have to take on a second, a third, or more. They are you, of course, but adjust a few emphasis here and there and it is still you, but different." She laughs faintly. "Well, not that I expect that to be understood right now. I wouldn't mind sharing my true name with you, but with it comes the expectation that you keep it to yourself or others who know. I do not desire more eyes on me. Tis my name, tis my right to share, nobody else's."

She turns her head towards Clarissa. "The pyreflies... they are beautiful, are they not? They ease my mind...but perhaps you would not find them so beautiful once you know they are....touched by Death."

She looks back forward. "Of course, I don't think that makes them less beautiful myself, but it is certainly not something you could learn simply by looking at them."

<Pose Tracker> Clarissa Arwin has posed.

"The thought had crossed my mind," Clarissa admits with a slight frown.

The Woman With Many Names explains herself - sort of. That frown is replaced by a touch of quiet sadness. Gancing down and to one side, she clears her throat a little, discomfort scratching at something in her chest. She absently brushes a bead of sweat away from her eyebrow.

"If it's important that it be a secret, then I'll do that," she says finally, looking up towards the mystery woman. "If they're all really your name, then I suppose it's not really a lie. And if it is a secret, then I'll keep my word and not share it. But I would rather know the truth, and why it's so important that it be a secret."

Dancing through this is tough for Clarissa. It's starting a relationship off on a footing that cuts deeper than she's willing to tell this person.

    little missy

She closes her eyes a moment. "...All I want is to bring Filgaia to life again. But I can't do that from Spira, no matter how beautiful it is."

When she opens her eyes once more, it's with a light blink. "Touched by Death?" she murmurs. "I hadn't realized...."

<Pose Tracker> Marivel Armitage has posed.

"Mm," Marivel says. "I don't believe they are harmful but...mmm... Marie Valeria... well, heh..."

She seems to have stopped herself from making a few comments there. Marivel probably doesn't give off the same kind of feeling as Rupert, at least, but...

Well, Clarissa said she wouldn't share her true name. "Leviram. It is just my name backwards. My true name is Marivel. Marivel Armitage. The people of ARMS know my name, of course, but outside of that I share with those who I feel can act with a certain degree of wisdom."

She clucks her tongue faintly in annoyance even as she says it, looking to the side. "An old friend wrote a fictionalized account of our time together and published it. It was not out of cruelty, an act of friendship....unfortunately that means my name is recognizable to those who read such dime novels periodically, though there are luckily not too many copies of that particular series out and about. Maybe I should have been stricter with him...but he was such a clever child..."

She shakes her head and adds, "Though there's a reason in particular I wish to be careful of my name getting out here. Two, in fact, and one of those reasons I can tell you. The other... well..."

She quietly works on removing her left hand's glove before extending it out for Clarissa to see.

Nothing happens immediately.

"Tis overcast. Give it a moment."

<Pose Tracker> Clarissa Arwin has posed.

Clarissa's impression of Marivel is substantially different. She's seen flashes of a less-than-lovely person in her - but also flashes of a kind one.

"Marivel Armitage," the girl repeats quietly, then folds her hands, bowing her head shallowly. "Thank you for entrusting me with your secret."

The explanation makes sense. If Marivel's name is known, then it might put her in danger to have it out there. She can make sense of that logic. She has to choose another name... and she's not doing it for reasons of malice, the girl realizes.

She smiles faintly nevertheless, clearing her throat slightly. "I gave my word and I'll keep it. Your secret is safe with me," she says, before raising her eyebrows as Marivel holds her hand out. Her blue-green eyes widen slightly with expectation.

"Your hand?" she asks, not quite understanding, but watching nevertheless. "What's wrong with it...."

<Pose Tracker> Marivel Armitage has posed.

Nothing happens.

...at least until the clouds move and the sun peeks on through and shines on Marivel's hand.

Smoke starts drifting off of Marivel's hand--lightly at first, then---as if the flesh is very gradually being burned away.

Marivel pulls her hand back and slides it into her glove with some speed.

"I shared my weakness with you because I have a request of you." Marivel says as if that just ... didn't happen. "Will you hear it?"

Is she really not going to talk about that??

<Pose Tracker> Clarissa Arwin has posed.

The sun shines through the clouds --

And Clarissa gasps at the sight of Marivel beginning to smoke. Her cheeks pale slightly, even with the heat flush she's sustaining. She cups her hands to her mouth. "Miss Marivel--"

The other woman reels her hand back in, and Clarissa swallows the lump in her throat, her face etched with worry and her eyes wide. Her hands fall, revealing that her mouth is open with abject surprise. There's more to this person than she realized and it's putting her on the back heel.

But it's a weakness shown to her faithfully, and in the spirit of trust. She can't deny it.

"What's happened to you," she begins to ask, only for a question to come up.

"...Of course," she says, feeling vaguely like she's about to step off a plank and into a free-fall of some kind.

<Pose Tracker> Marivel Armitage has posed.

It's not like Marivel enjoys mildly burning her hands (or heavily burning if she kept it out for a few more minutes) but it is the simplest and most effective way to explain without literally ripping off her entire disguise. She doesn't say anything for a moment, intent on giving Clarissa time to figure shit out for her own. She doesn't even immediately answer her question. Not until Clarissa says 'Of course'.

"Plenty has happened to me over my life." Marivel says. "But this? This is not something that 'happened' to me, Clarissa. This is how I am supposed to function. I was born this way, and I certainly do not regret it. I am proud of what I am, Clarissa, but I have to manage the various inconveniences at times. Tis easier with an umbrella but the clothes are dual purpose."

She smiles faintly, it peeking up over her scarf once more.

"My request is that you join ARMS. You have already expressed a desire to face Odessa. We intend to face them at every opportunity. Tis may not be the world at stake, but the form the world will take is. For ARMS, that is just as important. For me, so as to continue my honesty, my only concern is the safety of Filgaia itself."

The smile is a full on grin, though still mostly obscured, now. "Though I think we are similar in our hopes for a revitalized Filgaia."

<Pose Tracker> Clarissa Arwin has posed.

"Then the sunlight has always wounded you," Clarissa murmurs, momentarily mystified and trying to put the pieces together.

There are a few examples, but as far as Clarissa can tell, Marivel doesn't look like she wants to eat anyone's brain. But then, do the undead do that? Are the undead born that way? She presses her lips together, then lowers her eyes to her lap for a moment to think the idea over in her head.

"I'm glad that you have pride in who you are." She looks up, and her worry gives way to a small, faint smile - and though the expression is muted, it's genuine. "You should never be ashamed to be the person you were born to be, even if it's difficult. Thank you for trusting me enough to show me that secret, Marivel."

The request is made, and Clarissa inhales, then lets it out. She had a feeling it was coming and she's been thinking long and hard on the prospect.

"My mother's dream was to find the Yggdrasill System in the hopes of bringing Filgaia back to life. I've always shared that dream, and I want to pursue it," she says quietly. "But the kind of world Commander Vinsfeld wants... I don't want to see what that Filgaia would look like when it's ruled by a broken man like him."

Clarissa looks up again, and there's clarity and focus in her eyes as she nods, once. "I'll join you. We have to stop him."

<Pose Tracker> Marivel Armitage has posed.

Well even Crimson Nobles have a spooky reputation, but the reputation might nearly as bad as you might get on Earth and really who cares about Earth? Thankfully, she doesn't make a quip about Clarissa more or less repeating what Marivel had just said in her own words.

"Of course. Why would I be ashamed? My people have protected Filgaia for far longer than I. 'Twas our duty and our privilege. Even as they were dying, they faced that duty. Even I, Only I...survived. The Last."

"When I look at the waters here," Marivel continues, "When I see the pyreflies..."

She looks back to Clarissa. "You will join us? That is good. I believe we can help you as well and even if ARMS cannot, perhaps I can. I have become fond of you. You are familiar."

She looks back over the water. "Yes, I frequently think of it, particularly when I look at these pyreflies. Even after all this time. Tis a strange thing to be at peace, yet for your thoughts to always return to that moment. It is there I think of well-meaning lies meant to bring succor and comfort. Perhaps even for a time, even neccessary just to move on to the day and years after such terrible things."

"But," Marivel considers. "Lies such as these hide tragedy, sorrow, pain, suffering. And such things must be honestly felt, no matter how beautiful the lie's light may be. Such as it is with pyreflies, such as it is with..."

She doesn't say anything else. "Well, some truths should be discovered rather than told. I'll add you to the travel sphere roster. Until we get back, I do not have a spare empathite radio but if we ever make it back to Aquvy, I will make sure you--and your friend if you'd like--receive one."

<Pose Tracker> Clarissa Arwin has posed.

Clarissa would ask what Ee-arth is, but she can't read the narration.

"I'm sorry that your people suffered so much," she says instead, folding one gloved hand on top of the other and bowing her head. A bead of perspiration drips from the point of the chin and lands on the cuff of one glove. She lets her breath out in a slightly overstressed puff. It's not the conversation - it's the climate.

She looks up nevertheless, her smile small and genuine. "I want to help.... And I like you too. And I want to get back to Filgaia, even if this place is very beautiful. There's so much that needs to be done, and I don't think I can do it here."

Following Marivel's gaze to the water, the blonde girl finally unfolds her hands, mainly to fan herself with one of them in the hopes of bringing herself at least a little bit of relief from the heat. Evidently a more Spiran outfit hasn't occurred to her yet.

"...I hate lies," she admits, her voice quieting as her hand falls. "Sometimes a sweet-sounding lie can disguise something that's very sinister. Like how a pretty flower can sometimes have a huge thorn on it. And in some ways I would rather know the real truth behind something, instead of being taken for a sucker. It hurts more, yes. And sometimes I have to dig for it. But I think it's better to see things for what they are."

Marivel left a sentence dangling. Clarissa makes a mental note, but doesn't pursue it. "I've never had an empathite radio. But thank you. With luck, we'll get back home soon."

She fans herself again, but she's still smiling that earnest, straightforward smile, full of understated desire to help.

<Pose Tracker> Marivel Armitage has posed.

Marivel is not a genderbending wolf. Though she sure has words for one.

Unsurprisingly, she doesn't answer any of that. Not even the 'apology' to her people. Maybe she's heard such things before. Some things can't be helped with apologies, sometimes the power has to come from within rather than from without.

But even so, what she says next may be of some relief to Clarissa. "Let's return to Luca so you do not get heatstroke. I will buy you an iced beverage."

<Pose Tracker> Clarissa Arwin has posed.

Clarissa isn't one of those either!

"Gosh, I could use an iced beverage," she admits as she climbs back to her feet, fanning herself with her hat.