2019-05-16: You Appear To Have Drooped
- Log: You Appear To Have Drooped
- Cast: Riesenlied, Seraph Liath
- Where: The Moonflow
- Date: 16th May 2019
- Summary: Riesenlied takes a bit of time to work out her emotions and meets Liath.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
A lot of things have happened in a short amount of time, for Riesenlied.
She hasn't remotely had time to grapple with the enormity that had happened since her arrival in Spira; of falling into the Ley professing her continued love for those dear to her, to find herself miraculously safe and teleported in a strange land with Noeline and family; of dealing with the loss that she still finds dear to her.
So she's taken the time to set a bit of time for herself, to the Moonflow.
The river could well be described as a place of duress for her -- a place where pyreflies, whose emotions run rampant and scream towards her, are attracted by the beauty of the glowing Moonlily flowers.
But right now...
In remembrance of those she has lost, this seems like an apt place.
And as such, amongst the bank not far from the waystations that dot Spira, Riesenlied is taking time for herself--
To cry, very gently, as she holds her hands closely to her heart where the Dragon's Tear lies. Because crying is one manner in which she can healthily deal with her emotions, and not be goaded into bottling it all in.
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Liath has posed.
Loss seems a sentiment that dominates these days, and these lands.
People have lost much, not just in the horror of their failure in the face of Sin, but even further before that. A lost Dragonmaster. Lost friends. Family. Worlds. It seems almost inescapable, in certain ways. Like the very concept of it was saturated right down to the bones of this land. An endless spiral of loss.
But even here, there is sentiment beyond that inevitable melancholy, if one earnestly looks for it. There is yet beauty to be discovered in this land.
Riesenlied cries, tears shed against the soft glow of pyreflies and the ephemeral ebb of the Moonflow's shimmering surface. Time for herself. Time alone. But it is here, in the quiet depths of the riverbanks, in the midst of remembering what was lost --
"For what are you crying?"
-- she is found.
The voice is gentle, but carries crisply from just behind Riesenlied, the subtle hint of an accent hard to place carrying with it. She need not look behind her to the see the source of that voice, though -- soon enough, it finds her, in the form of a young woman, gold hair with white tips bound up in intricate braids, her green and gold clothes adorned with a single armored sleeve -- accompanied by the presence of a sheathed sword and shield -- giving her a knightly appearance as she crouches comfortably at Riesenlied's side.
She doesn't say anything else. No criticism or judgment, no claim that Riesenlied should stop.
Just a simple question, accompanied with a smile warm like the sun.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
For what are you crying?
Riesenlied jolts just for a moment, though it is gentle. She's not exactly out in the middle of nowhere, because she can't go very far -- her wheelchair attests to that, as its wheels sink softly against the fresh, muddy ground of the Moonflow's banks.
She struggles to wheel herself around to face the presence that's found her, for a moment -- then it comes loose as she shifts.
Riesenlied dabs her eye gently, with a handkerchief.
The Hyadean pauses to gaze upon the golden-haired woman for a moment, looking towards her and her smile...
She bows her head as she expresses, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm..."
There is hesitation in her voice as it warbles for a moment. It's a moment of high emotion from her.
"I'm thinking of someone I just lost. A dear person... someone who I would consider a parent."
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Liath has posed.
Oh, I'm sorry. I'm...
"You have nothing to apologize for," is the immediate response, direct though far from harsh. The woman's head cants, white-tipped bangs jostling with the motion. "Tears are just as natural and important as laughter. Sadness just as important as joy. They are equally part of living. To deny either is to try to deny ourselves... and nothing good can ever come from such a thing. Never feel you must apologize for your tears."
A second passes by, and the woman's expression takes on a mild edge of self-effacement.
"More to the point, it was I who interrupted you, was it not? It seems only fair it be my apologies offered to you in its stead."
And here, her head dips just so in amends. In the wake of Riesenlied's answer, though, the woman falls silent; kneeling beside that wheelchair along the soft earth of the Moonflow's bank, her gilded gaze turns back towards those sparkling waters. The ephemeral ebb of it only serves to highlight the sympathy as it etches across her expression.
"... Mm," she exhales, slowly, bright eyes squeezing shut. "I suppose there is no better place than this to remember what precious things we have lost." Those eyes crack open once more, just in slivers, as she looks to her newfound companion.
"Would you do me the honor of telling me of them?"
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied locks the wheelchair so she doesn't roll down into the mud and splash into the river or anything worse; there's a quiet moment as she cups her mouth at the woman's response in turn, nodding gently.
"Yes... I do agree. I know how I react to grief and loss, and it is important that I took the time..."
Riesenlied sniffles again as she wipes at her eyes once more, hiccuping for a moment.
The woman's gentleness is infectious; she feels more at ease already next to her. But as she apologises, she shakes her head with a soft smile of her own. "No, it is all right. Ah--"
She tilts her head, horns waggling very gently. "My name is Riesenlied, from the Wayside Outreach. I'm... I'm an otherworlder, I suppose is the term used in Spira for our kind." She seems to be assuming the knightly woman is a Crusader, perhaps.
"They were..."
She tilts her head, closing her eyes. As she works through the memories, as pyreflies draw nearer. Then she opens them, gently...
"They came into my life at a time when I was very fragile and uncertain of myself. When my father pushed me to do things I disagreed with at my core... but I did not have the courage or sense of self to know what it is I wished to do."
There is a moment of silence, as another glowing pyrefly wafts nearer towards her and she shivers underneath its gentle memories.
"They are a mystery to me, and I feel bad to not know or understand what they struggle with... it makes me feel a bit helpless I was not more able to help. Yet..."
There's a wet-eyed smile as she sniffles.
"I love them with all my heart. It is a confusing and complicated thing, for all they've done, for what they disappeared into the light doing, yet..."
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Liath has posed.
"... yet we can seldom help how the heart is moved, can we?"
The words come wrapped warmly in sincerity as Riesenlied's golden-haired companion rises onto her feet. Wordlessly wiping the mud from her one, booted knee, she reaches out not a second later. Gloved fingers stretch out, and twitch in a gentle, beckoning gesture...
"Despite every conflicting sentiment, they were someone important in your life, weren't they?"
... and quietly urge the pyrefly floating nearest Riesenlied to dance its way between their fingertips.
"Sometimes we love things, even if we must stand against them. We love them even knowing their flaws, and knowing they exist in a world we cannot be apart of. I suppose it is sad in some ways." And, indeed, those golden eyes grow listlessly solemn for a few moments, lending a more bittersweet quality to her smile when next it touches on her lips as she watches the lazy drift of the pyrefly.
"But I believe it is beautiful, too. And I believe if nothing else, wherever they may be, it would gladden this dear guardian of yours to know how deeply you cared for them."
She lets that little mote of lingering life escape to continue its inexorable journey across the Moonflow not moments later, watching as it passes.
"... There is not one of us that does not yearn in some way to know we are loved."
With that, the woman's armored hand falls to her chest; the movement is accompanied by the respectful flourish of a bow, the coattails of her outfit swaying about her with the deepness of the motion.
"It is a true honor to make your acquaintance, Riesenlied of the Wayside Outreach. You may call me Liath. Do not worry, I believe you are in familiar company." A second passes; the bright-eyed woman taps her chest once, demonstrably. "After all, I suppose I, too, would be known as an 'otherworlder' to the people here, though it is more an ocean that separates my home and theirs."
Her brows furrow for a moment of pensive thought.
"So perhaps... more an 'otheroceaner'? But wide as that gulf may be, we share the very same ocean, and it has hardly the same flow. Hmmm."
...
"Ah! Otherlander, perhaps? But I have read the lands themselves are connected by the very movement of the tectonic plates beneath us--"
She... may be putting far too much thought than remotely necessary into all of this.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied draws in a breath as she watches Liath stand and clean herself, then reach out to the pyreflies. Of the way the woman seems to move so effortlessly with them dancing at her fingertips.
"Yes," Riesenlied answers warmly. "We often yearn for simplicity, but the truth is scarce simple."
She breathes in a bit deeper, feeling another sniffle incoming. She listens to Liath further.
Knowing they exist in a world we cannot be a part of...
"That is true. They were kind enough to always make that clear to me. That they are trying things the outcome of which they know not. That it may not always be, that we may not come to blows... yet..."
She closes her eyes.
"The things they did promise me. They always were there. Not as a trial knight, not as a judge of geases, not even as an adversary of man... but... as something more. Something closer, something warmer to the heart."
But I believe it is beautiful, too. ... it would gladden this dear guardian of yours to know how deeply you cared for them.
There's a faint look of surprise and wan in Riesenlied as a tear flows further. She's not quite certain, but she feels a stronger pull from her heart at that.
There is not one of us that does not yearn in some way to know we are loved.
The Tainted Hyadean closes her eyes at that as she sobs a bit more firmly; not in a manner of grief as it escapes her lips, but as a more powerful emotion takes her for a moment longer.
"Yes... I do dearly hope so. I still recall their words. Lest my loved ones have naught more than memories to shield themselves with... well, even if it is only memories that I can now embrace around myself... to have been able to felt this way is..."
She wipes at the tear in her eye.
"I feel glad... to have been able to love for someone in this way."
She looks a bit embarrassed as she stammers, "Ah-- Miss Liath. Thank you, and thank you doubly for listening to me... and for your kind words too, I--"
She blinks a few times. Liath mentions she is an 'otherworlder' too, which isn't something she was aware of, but--
"O-otheroceaner? I-- hmm--"
What's a tectonic plate??
"E-eeh..."
Riesenlied's horns have flopped.
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Liath has posed.
She calls them trial knight, judge, adversary. And her companion's head cants at a curious angle, falling into pensive silence in the midst of those more specific memories -- those more poignant emotions.
But as Riesenlied sobs, Liath's expression gentles. Those vivid features are a cocktail of many things, but pity nor sorrow are not amongst them. Instead, they mix together to form something more than the sum of their parts:
Understanding, and empathy.
It is a sentiment that lingers, even as Liath cups her chin in troubled and very clearly and perhaps distressingly deep thought at the predicament of her proper and specific nomenclature; brows knit in consternation, eyes narrowed in contemplation, the frown that tugs the corner of her lips downward is a most distressing one indeed.
"... but then what truly divides any of us? And were we to be even more specific, at what point are those divisions so scant they stop mattering? I -- ... hm?"
Liath looks, for a long moment of silence, at Riesenlied. And her flopped horns.
Gold eyes flutter in a blink.
"Ah. Oh dear. You appear to have drooped."
...
"My apologies!"
And despite the rabbit hole of a tangent she has fallen down, Liath is nothing if not swift on the recovery; within moments, she turns to face Riesenlied fully once more, a sliver of pearly white teeth seen in her smile. Her armored hand falls away from her chin, resting comfortably on the intricate pommel of her sword.
"You have little to thank me for, Lady Riesenlied," comes her earnest response, "... but if you must, I would offer you my gratitude as well. You have given me much to think about. It has been some time, but it is truly refreshing to have someone I may speak freely with."
And with that, the golden-haired woman eases herself back on to one knee in front of Riesenlied, without care or concern for the mud that might dare to tarnish her boots. "Lady Riesenlied, I am deeply curious of this place, and there is yet more I would like to explore. Would you care to accompany me?"
No hesitation is spared as she offers her gloved hand out to the Hyadean, expression warm with promise.
"I would, if nothing else, see you safely returned to the people you care for -- once you have had the time you need."
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Oh no, she's drooped!
Riesenlied's face is terribly red as she huffs and breathes up and needs to take a moment to puff up her horns back to an inflated state. ... are they really hollow inside? It may be a mystery that no one save a few people can answer. (Maybe the Ice Queen decided 'give Riesenlied floppy horns' was advantageous to this timeline.)
But there is something comforting in Liath's quiet understanding. Of her empathy. Of something very familiar that she gives others so naturally, but finds herself needing at times too, of course.
Because everyone yearns to be loved.
"... I think-- I think that is a wonderful thought," Riesenlied stammers with a smile. "It would be wonderful to live in a world where we did not have to think we are different for living off-shore, or even in another world..."
She bobs her head gently, and nods a little more gently; she's a bit red as Liath thanks her for giving her the chance to talk freely, that she's been given much to think about. "Ah, truly? I did not... I would be happy to offer that to you, anytime. If you chance upon a Dragon-headed ship -- that is the Fereshte, the Outreach's home. We've been involved in helping restore Kilika from Sin's recent attack, but we do other relief work around too... you'll often find me there."
There's a soft smile as she nods as the woman draws back down to her seated level in front of her. She places her hand gently on Liath's with a smile.
"And yes, of course I would accompany you. There is much of this place I want to see, even in... my state. My partner Noeline is nearby..." she gestures towards the waystation. She reaches down to unlock the wheelchair's stopper again, and shifts slightly in the mud.
"Would you be able to help wheel me back there, Miss Liath...?"
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Liath has posed.
Riesenlied's horns: truly, one of life's great mysteries.
"It would, would it not? Perhaps such a world would have no need for things such as this." As Liath speaks, her free hand finds a comfortable and familiar home at the hilt of her weapon.
"But I do not think I would exchange the world we live in for any other, regardless."
That offer made, and her hand taken, Liath's expressiveness is a wealth of guileless sincerity as her golden eyes sliver in her mirth, squeezing Riesenlied's hand, once. "I would like that, very much," is her response to the representative of the Outreach. "Should I see your Fereshte, I will seek you out. I would very much like to see a dragon ship."
... Given how she phrases it, and the wondering tone, one can only imagine just how literally she's choosing to interpret Riesenlied's 'dragon-headed' Fereshte.
"... Would it be by some mode of transformation it becomes one or the other? Or--"
Or maybe they don't need to imagine.
Regardless, as Riesenlied unlocks the stopper, Liath once more fluidly rises to her feet. Bizarre though the paths her train of thought can take her might be, she is still nothing less than unassailable in her confidence as she moves behind the horned Hyadean to take the wheelchair's handles firmly to begin moving it through the mud, with a push no less unhesitating.
"It would be my honor, Lady Riesenlied."