2019-05-21: The Light's Shoulders Feel Heavy

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  • Log: 2019-05-21: The Light's Shoulders Feel Heavy
  • Cast: Seraph Clarine, Seraph Lanval
  • Where: The Moonflow
  • Date: May 21, 2019
  • Summary: How many Seraphs does it take to suggest maybe the lightbulb doesn't need changing? (This is an honest question, but thank you for the tomatoes. -Mgmt.)

===================================================<* The Moonflow *>===================================================

The Moonflow is a large river that bisects Spira's largest island into southern and northern halves. Strange flowers called Moonlilies grow on the Moonflow's banks, attracting pyreflies that gather on its surface at night, making the water sparkle. Although a beautiful area, the weather tends to be overcast more often than not, the souls of the dead providing the most reliable source of illumination.

The primary method of crossing the Moonflow is aboard a shoopuf - an elephantine creature that can swim across the expansive river. The crossing service is funded by the Temple of Yevon and is free of charge.

BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6wcVnJQ-FN4
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

Somewhere by the bank of the Moonflow, far removed from the square where merchants hawk their wares to travelers seeking passage across the great river, sits the Seraph Clarine.

This place is quiet - the only sounds the rushing of water, the rustle of wind through the foliage, and the low whispers of the pyreflies as they flit about the Moonflow's surface.

There was much for Clarine to consider and this place, where the sun hits the riverbank just right, was perfect to sit, think, and just soak in her surroundings. As a Light Seraph, there was little more she could ask for.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

    Business as usual continues for Fox Company. They've done their share of the Kilika restoration work for now, barring any rough spurts of nasty weather or - all divinities forbid - Sin showing up to wreak havoc anew. Their vaguely defined work for the day comes to a close, and there's talk about maybe hitting up a fancier restaurant at Luca later once they square away the matter of what they're exactly owed for what they did. Whatever it is.
     Lanval, who drinks all the time and comes off as a drunken, slurring simpleton at a casual glance, is generally off the hook for negotiations of these kinds and lets himself amble along towards the bank of the Moonflow. He doesn't like being around huge concentrations of pyreflies - now matter how harmless they seem to be when they are free-floating lights - and the Moonflow is just filled with them. (Riding the shoopuf is not a fun experience for him. The only reason he doesn't just hide in the bottle is because he doesn't want his vessel to fall overboard!)
     Better safe than sorry - he doesn't want to be the first to disocver a huge concentration of pyreflies is a bad thing for a Seraph to be exposed to! Outside of the whole 'pyreflies can and do form into Fiends' context.
     It's still a nice view, if you are going to limit the senses strictly to the sight. As Lanval 'jogs' in that way he does, a series of pirouettes and pratfalls - he comes to a rest on his back further up and away from the bank. He's inclined to let himself slip into where water rests. It takes a lot out of him not to do that, because that's simply water's nature.
     Clarine may feel his aura before he even so much as speaks. Water in all of its forms, mirth, and a bit of the local alcohol. It's like he'd have arrived by shouting.
     "Mmm... hey there... Clarine," he says in sleepy-sounding greeting, eyes closed - what 'gaze' there is instead looking up to the sky, to where the Gaia is (or will be). "How're ya doin'..."

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

Clarine does sense that aura before the owner himself appears. To a fellow Seraphim, it is impossible to miss - to them, that manner of sense is just as vital as sight or sound.

She stares toward him, blinking in surprise as he comes to a stop.

"Ah, Lanval...!" She remarks. She hadn't expected to run into him out here, much less Lanval. ...Though she supposed, if anyone, she should not be surprised it was him.

She considers for a moment the answer to his question.

"...I am...doing well, I suppose. A little, um...uneasy, but...it will pass." She replies.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

    Though his manner is that of a ragamuffin, there is an air to this one of something far more than that. The far cleaner aquamarine-hued robes he wears - even without shoes on, as always - are but one visual representation of that, even as he lies against turf that would besmirch it. The drinking gourd is set by one arm, held between the arm of his manifestation and the rest of it - as though letting its neck face up towards where Gaia is and/or will appear were important, too. It does carry a piece of the very water of Filgaia with it, now.
     "Mmmm... li'l uneashy, ya shay..." There's a lot of reasons for that, Lanval can surmise, but he exhales peacably as he gets out a bottle of the Quartermaster's Stash. It's almost empty, because he was the last person to be handed it.
     As is SOP when it comes to Lanval and drinks - don't give him any unless you've had all you're going to, it is said.
     "...feel free ta share... 'm all earsh~ ...figure of speech, 'n all, ya know what I mean... ha ha ha!"
     This is a strange land to all of his kind. There's a lot to be worried about... but he can be counted on to be a good listener.
     Odds aren't looking great about him sharing that bottle, though.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

Clarine nods quietly in response. She doesn't give the bottle in his hands much notice - fortunately, she isn't very interested in drink. Or food, as it happens - she largely subsists on sunlight.

"Recently, I...pledged my allegiance to a group of humans. I promised to assist them in their endeavors, matters involving Seraphim especially..." She explains. Most of them were human, anyway, but she was the first Seraph member.

"I...do believe in their goals, but...it is...difficult. It has been so long since I last placed myself into the hands of a human... They can be...frightening, at times..." She explains.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

    "Did ya, now... mmm." Lanval smiles a bit, resting his free hand up against his chin as he runs his fingers through his beard. It's like putting one's hand underneath a gentle waterfall. "...Mortalsh are gonna do what they're gonna... that'sh kinda the reality of it."
     They've both been around for hundreds of years - no doubt having seen and experienced generations of them. Their dreams, their hopes, their challenges, their ends, their regrets...
     "What won ya over? Their goalsh... or wash it one of 'em?" He asks as he helps himself to the rest of the Quartermaster's Stash. Blatant defiance of Althena's ban on the stuff... but that was intended for mortals, with maybe only the faintest suggestion that maybe the divine should reflect that.
     Then again, he has been condemned by Althena Herself as being the Fallen Seraph, who has thrown his lot with evil... to take it from Althena's guard.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

Mortals will do what they'll do. ...There's no denying that, really. Clarine had seen it for herself, though she was closer to them now in recent years than she had been for quite some time.

Trusting again was so very difficult.

"I...do, um... consider a good number of them my friends, yes. They are...good people, who saved me in my time of need." Clarine replies with a nod. "They...have united under another's command to deal with - ...um, 'existential threats', is the...easiest way to put it, I think - to their Blue Star, as a combined force."

It was a noble goal, really, in her eyes.

"...For the longest time, my only purpose was...leading other to safety through dangerous areas. But...in that regard, I am a failure. That purpose...was lost to me..." She murmurs.

Perhaps that is another reason why she feels so uneasy right now. It's quite a big step up.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

    Lanval listens intently as Clarine describes them. She calls them good people... she's been around long enough to be able to judge that. (She's been around longer than he has - he may not be aware of this.)
     "Throwin' yer lot in with Filgaia too, eh...? Mmm." He smiles a bit at the thought, opening one eye half-lidded, but a sobering thought enters as to why it would be their helping hand - of strangers to both their native worlds - that would inspire her so.
     "...Shometimesh... ya can jusht show shomeone the way... but ya can't force 'em down it," Lanval says as he contemplates the now empty bottle of Quartermaster's Stash. That's funny, he thinks, there might've been more in there. Last he saw, it was in his mouth. Oh well. He lowers the bottle-bearing arm on the ground, so now he looks for all intents and purposes passed out by the Moonflow.
     "...Shoundsh ta me they got faith in you. That'sh a precioush thing!" He rocks back and forth to sit up which - with the appearance of his bulk in his manifestation, is understandably a logistical challenge - sitting upright to better face her rather than gaze up to a Filgaia that waits for one of its Oracles to come home.
     "It'sh... pretty eashy fer a mortal ta loshe it once thingsh don't go their way... but in the end, a lot of it'sh gonna be up ta them."

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

"...'Throwing my lot in with Filgaia'..." Clarine considers for a moment. "...I do not know much about their world. But...its people have treated me kindly."

She goes quiet as he continues. That was something she knew all too well - she'd learned it the hard way.

"Faith...it has been so long since I have had others place faith in me. It is a... scary thought... I hope their faith in me is not...misfounded." She says with a frown.

It's easy for them to lose it - but in the end, it's up to the mortals... Clarine considers this for a moment, her eyes dropping toward the Moonflow.

"...I suppose I can...only do what I can to support them, to ensure they can do what they must..." She considers, nodding toward herself for a moment.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

    "Mmm... well, ya shure did come in on Filgaia'sh greatesht time of need... that, uh, I can recall... of all the timesh of need I remember..." How many? At least two or three. Filgaia seems to always be in some sort of great existential peril, but given the state the world is in, well... there's a reason why he said what he did to Schturdark!
     Lanval looks over to the Moonflow as Clarine's eyes droop down towards it, and he thinks of those pyreflies - those souls of the dead - that might have found their faith lost in their final moments. They're balls of light, Clarine is light... he wonders if there's something she can see about them that he can't.
     He's water, after all, what does he know about light?
     "...I mean... it'sh posshible... they could disshapoint ya too... we do live pretty different livesh, 'n all, even if we live 'em together..." He remembers Ragnell's reasons for wanting to end Filgaia, to end it's story - the repeat of so many rotten, terrible stories. He's sure seen a lot of them, too. Maybe more than anyone in his life should have. What the settlement of Rylia became...
     Well, that's in the past.
     "'m shure it'll work out! Shaysh a lot ta me, ya went ash far ash ya did in all the Malevolence." The place where they stopped the Adversary of Man and Ragnell from infecting a Guardian Lord and killing the planet through that. "...Shaysh a lot if they were willin' ta follow you in there... can't shay I got the beeeesht hold of who wash with who, when, where... mmm. Hard ta let yer mind wander when doin' sho coulda turned you into a dragon..."

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

"...I...am afraid my reason was...not as grand as that. I...was only trying to prevent a friend from making a mistake, for a different friend who could not fight..." Clarine admits, shaking her head. She goes quiet for a moment, then. They could disappoint her too...it was possible. As he said, their lives were different. Not so different that they couldn't cooperate. But...

"...I...appreciate your confidence in me, at least..." She replies, then look toward him. Indeed...the Malevolence they had faced was great. It had been so hard to hold on. There was even a moment where she thought she was going to lose herself completely.

"...How did you endure it? You and Boudicca...you both were at the center of it all. If I had been in your position, I am unsure if I would have been able to endure it." She asks.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

    "Mmm." Lanval mmms, taking that gourd off by his side into his hands, sitting it on his lap as he considers her reasons. Her friend, then, if it wasn't the Adversary of Man... only someone like Riesenlied could ever call them 'friend' in some fashion...
     ...
     "...Ya shure showed a lot in any of ush by goin' in there with 'em." Extremely few Seraphim would ever willingly go into such a maelstrom of spiritual venom made of compounding contradictions of intent and deed, even if they had the sturdiest vessel with them.
     How did they endure it?
     "...I had shome help." He says, as he takes in a sip from the gourd. A sip of the very water of Filgaia, the piece of it that came with him all the way up here to Spira. "...Help from shomeone who needed it too... fer a longer time 'n jusht that very moment. Sho together... along with everyone elshe... we made it through."
     He lowers the gourd from his face, back on his lap. That stupid, cat-like smile breaks the sagacious air he may have cultivated so far in their discussion with one another.
     "Miiiight jusht be, in the end, more than one'll be shinin' a guidin' light among ya."

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

Indeed, it had not been an easy choice. But there were those she would risk everything for - even her very being.

She listens quietly as Lanval explain that he had help, from someone who needed it as well. She considers this for a moment as her head tilts to the side, deep in thought. He says something, thought, that gets a slight smile out of her.

A guiding light...

"...'Together'. ...I suppose...that is the key." She considers, nodding to herself. "...Thank you, Lanval. Your words...have been helpful."

She looks back toward him. ...There's that smile of his. Well, there's nothing wrong with that.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

    The thanks is taken in stride. At the end of it all, they're both Seraphim, elemental spirits who have to live very long lives and deal with all sorts of questions involving things across vast expanses of time. Things like to change around them - so few seem willing to go with those changes about them, sometimes.
     "...Okaaaaaay, guessh I'd better go moshey 'long back," he says as he rolls back and forth to get up on his feet. "We're gonna head ta Luca again... the mortalsh I'm with are gonna go to thish reshtaraunt... but guessh whaaaat..."
     He starts to laugh. It's mischievous.
     "it'sh right next to the shtreet I like ta lay in...! It feelsh shoooo good... mmm." He stops, hand scratching his chin. "...it'sh a water thing. I can't wait fer another try at it..."
     Because he will be sharing food and drink with dear friends, precious ones who will be around for such a short amount of time compared to the two of them... in the end he'll probably pass up that opportunity to make another futile, cartoonish effort at getting to lay in the middle of a busy Luca market road.
     Because it's a water thing to want to have that patch of road, apparently.