2022-06-29: Sing Between Choices
- Log: Sing Between Choices
- Cast: Jean, Magilou
- Where: Pao Village - Outskirts
- Date: 2022-06-29
- Summary: Jean finally meets the mysterious evil witch who's been haunting the Vile Fiends of late.
<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.
For a long while now, Jean has been walking. One foot in front of the other, back down from the mountains. Her simple shoes have gone over plenty of rocks by now, but it doesn't particularly bother her. Dressed in ordinary traveling clothes in gray, a black cloak over her shoulders, and a satchel at her side for the few essentials she needs. This time she is not especially dressed like a dancer, but she moves with one's grace all the same. Her green hair is in a side-tail, and there's hints of glamour about her person. She's wearing makeup, including perfect liner, and has a few bracelets on that show at her sleeves, along with earrings in gold. But it was cold up there!!
Just now she is arriving in a village, looking around as trees and hills and rocks give way to plains and wooden houses. There are people all around, but they're mostly further into town; this is the outskirts, after all, and Jean happens to be passing through a farm on her way, at the moment.
"Hm hm o/~"
She's humming, a /banned activity/.
<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.
OST: Julie Andrews - The Hills Are Alive https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U4lJUzrgSJA
"The hiiiiiiiiiiiiiills are alive~ o/`"
It's a strange refrain Jean hears, as she steps down from the hills to the plains; it is not, immediately, clear where that magnificent singing voice is coming from.
"With the souuund of muuusic~ o/`"
The clouds overhead provide a soft and fluffy cover which obscure shadows on the ground; perhaps that serves to obsfucate the jester leaning on the outer wall of one of the cottages at Pao's outskirts, who twirls out with a hand to her chest, the other raised high to the heavens.
"With songs they have suuung for a thousand yeeeears~ o/`"
<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.
The singing is a surprise; it's not the song Jean was humming, to be sure. But she looks around, surprised, to hear the music. She does hear it; the clouds on this chill day are pleasant... and indeed it does obscure Magilou at first. But Jean knows a good cue when she hears one!
Instead of joining in to the song she doesn't know, she stops walking and instead twirls forward, arms out, feet graceful. She turns Magilou's song into something of a dance, in brutal defiance of Althena's dictates!!!
"Hm hm hm hm o/~" she does hum along though.
Her cloak whirls as she spins, then jumps up to do another turn in the air, catching herself effortlessly even with all this gear on.
<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.
"The hills fill my heart with the sound of music~ my heart wants to sing every song it hears~"
Magilou might be a master of the shrill voice, but she /is/ a thespian at heart; she's completely capable of selling the rich notes this song must have been based on, before it was outlawed like all the rest.
How interesting that Jean can dance to it so easily...
"My heart wants to beat like the wings of the birds that rise from the lake to the trees~ my heart wants to sigh like the chime that flies from a church on a breeze~ o/`"
Once again she spoils the plot through song; the Church hadn't /always/ banned singing, after all. She spins easily in her position, and throws her hands out as the energy of the song builds, gaining energy, building...
"To laugh like a brook when it trips and falls over stones on its way~ to sing through the night like a lark who is learning to prey~ o/`"
The song builds to a crest, and sharply /descends,/ to a lower, more contemplative note. Magilou's hands come to clutch to her chest, in the energy of the piece, though her /eyes/ are still on Jean --
"I go -- to the hills, when my heart is lonely... I know I will hear what I've heard before~ o/`"
-- and one hand gestures out, open-palmed, as the other clasps by her heart and the song fades to nothing.
"My heart will be blessed with the sound of music... and I'll sing... once... more..."
<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.
Oh, Jean picks up the rhythm easily, instinctively within a couple bars. And she does hear the lyrics; the chime that flies from the church... Yes, it was only recently that the Church banned music. But Jean thinks she likes the song as it goes. When it drops to that contemplative note, however, Jean's movements slow, becoming more expansive. A twirl on one foot; a sweeping motion on one leg down with perfect execution. She rises to look up to Magilou, as the some fades, and she reaches out towards Magilou in turn, open-palmed a short distance away.
"Ahahah," Jean laughs once it's over, "That was fun! I've never heard that song before." She smiles warmly; in fact, despite her attire being spooky traveler gray and loose, she has a warm personality once she shows it. She hops back up to a regular posture, and grins. "Let's see. Jestery outfit, great hat, and... breaks the rules. You're Magilou, aren't you?"
<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.
Magilou grins, a hand coming up, two fingers extended, to press into her cheek. "Now, /who/ told you I wore a jester's outfit?" She presses, and one might note, at this point, that her grin is absolutely predatory. "My, my, my... /no/ respect for the raiments of a witch. Tut, tut!" She clucks her tongue, wagging a finger.
"But indeed, I am!" Magilou throws her hand out, gesturing, grandly, to Jean. "The evil sorceress who sunders the very groundstone of Lunar in service of ancient darkness, annalist of chaotic ages, she whose crimes outstrip the records of law! Mazhigigika Miludin do Din Nolurun Dou..!" Her hands clap together, and she cants her head, merrily. "... Magilou, for short."
Magilou, you didn't have to give her the whole introduction, she's already heard of you.
<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.
"Hiro," Jean volunteers easily, and it would be guileless if it were anybody else. She knows Magilou is--if not a friend, then someone Hiro knows. "Witches dress a litle differently on the caravan," Jean answewrs, "If you count a fortuneteller as a witch?"
But the introduction! Jean waits through the grand introduction, and when Magilou claps her hands together--
Jean claps too. "Four stars," she says, "I liked the part about chaotic ages. Annalist..." Analyst? Hmm. Jean isn't sure she knows the word Magilou is using actually. It's fine..
"I'll stick with Magilou. Though actually, the dark magic thing would come in handy, I'm thinking of trying to up my sorcerous game..."
A smile, and she steps forward to offer her hand. "I'm Jean. I'm not sure Hiro's mentioned me, but I'm a dancer."
...And, as the /world/ knows now, the terrible shadow dancer in service to Lucia the Destroyer, famed top student of the Shadow Dragon Cult. She doesn't say that part out loud, though.
"I appreciate an entertainer. It was my job for a few years, too!"
<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.
"Hiro... heh, heh... I'll have to punish him for such a transgression upon my oeuvre...!" Magilou cackles, and maybe she really /is/ an evil witch, because that's a /very/ convincing cackle.
She slaps a hand to her hip -- or, rather, to one of the /books/ at her hip, did we mention the skirt made of books? -- as Jean trails off on 'annalist', and chirps: "Yuppers!" How does she go from 'trangressions upon her oeuvre' to 'yuppers'? Maybe /Magilou/ is the chaos of the age.
Magilou's grin grows three sizes, as Jean fesses up to who /she/ is -- did she know? Magilou's not telling -- and, indeed, what she /doesn't/ fess up to, in the process. (It's a pity Jean doesn't know what an annalist does; if she she did, Magilou knowing things might make so much more sense.)
"Why, Magilou's Menagerie has been delighting Lunar for many more than a /few years!/ Though my rotten troupe have all run off somewhere..." Magilou pouts, looking this way and that as if she could drag Rokurou and Ragnell out by their ears. "Those good-for-nothing ingrates!"
She sidles up to Jean, here, to purr: "Saaaay, Jean, /you're/ a dancer... how would /you/ like a contract...?" They say that the first form of a witch is a magical girl, did you know? ... but what's Magilou doing trying to sign her up the moment she sees her?
<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.
"Ahahah," Jean laughs at first, but with that cackle she does wonder if she actually /has/ condemned Hiro to some terrible fate... But probably not. Magilou can appreciate music, so she can't be /all/ bad. ...Probably.
Jean does notice the skirt made of books. It's... a choice. But she's not especially picky about books. It's just a stylish chocie!
Magilou's grin grows, and Jean is fine with that. She sure doesn't know that Magilou has such good reasons to know things, though. But the matter of the troupe...
"Oh, yeah? Hard to have a show without your team..." But Magilou looks back and forth--Jean laughs. It's funny. But Magilou then says the magic word:
'Contract.'
Jean is immediately a yard to the side of where Magilou was purring, putting up her hands. "Oh, no. I don't do commitment. ...And even if I did, I have a job right now!" Pause. "...But if you want a dance on a one-at-a-time basis, I can be your girl."
<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.
Magilou just cackles, as Jean jumps back like a puppy who just nosed a hot plate. It is, again, a spectacularly evil sound. She's had a /long/ time to perfect it. "Hooooh...? I see /someone's/ had a bad manager. What a pity!" She... doesn't actually sound like she pities Jean.
She at least has the mercy to let up on her oeuvre (what even /is/ an oeuvre, Magilou?!) after that, though, a loose grin slung over her face as she points finger-guns to Jean. "Oh, I assure you, I can work with that." How does she make something so normal sound so scandalous?!
Her arms stretch uuuup, over her head -- up onto her tippy-top-toes -- and down, hands lacing loosely behind her head. "Soooo..." She starts, one eye closing, the other regarding Jean through a lidded gaze.
"... assassin to entertainer, huh? And now you're looking to break into /witchcraft,/ too? My, my, you're a busy little bee." Magilou vacillates effortlessly from joviality to danger, grin a line of knives about her jaw; she doesn't bother explaining at all the consideration she's extending Jean, in making it clear she's an infamous property.
<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.
It is a very evil spell. "You could say that," Jean answers, but that's not the source of her commitment aversion. She doens' elaborate why, though. She just notices the lack of pity in the what a pity.
But when Jean is semi-suggestive, Magilou is /very/ suggestive, and Jean lifts an eyebrow. "is that so?" she wonders, and considers her for a moment. ..Which, a few moments is pretty much what she gets before--
"Ah."
Her posture changes slightly; she goes immediately from completely genial to more like a coiled cat, ready to spring into action. The difference is extremely subtle, but Magilou is an extremely subtle woman when she wants to be.
"Yeah, well..."
Jean shakes her head. "That's the job I was talking about. I'm still out to destroy the remnants of the Cult. So I can't accept any posting until then, regardless. ...And if I'm not willing to use that power, then I'd better shape up with my magic if I want to keep up."
It's not a /secret/, but Magilou sure is dangerous-seeming in this guise of hers. Jean doesn't expect trouble... but her instincts do.
"Dancer was the first job I chose for myself. It'll always be important to me."
<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.
Magilou winks, when Jean lifts that eyebrow. She is /quite/ brazen.
In more ways than one, as it happens; Magilou's own stance, self-assured and casual, doesn't shift at all as Jean tightens like a screw about a crossbow lever. "Ah! Honesty is so refreshing, is it not?" She chirps, as if she were talking about the weather.
Her eyes close, despite the fact that they've clearly just established how dangerous Jean is. (Is Jean really the most dangerous person here?) "Relax," Magilou says, as much directive as it is assurance. "People have been routing from the shadows to the stage for millennia!" One might note, here, just /how/ Magilou is dressed; Magilou certainly isn't going to point it out, herself.
"So," her eyes crack open, with a mysterious smile, "you're not willing to use that power, mm? How interesting... there have been so /many/ approaches to destroying whence one came, over the centuries."
<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.
Definitely brazen in more ways than one. Jean can handle the first kind--she /likes/ the first kind. But the second...
"Honesty, huh?" Jean asks. But Magilou closes her eyes--and that's a clear invitation if they were going to fight. Her old instincts call at her to strike first, to destroy the enemy. ...She doesn't listen.
Magilou instead tells her to relax, and Jean actually does. She's a smart cookie, for all her lack of book-learning, so she notices the way Magilou is dressed as she says it. "...All right," she answers, and lowers her hands back to her sides.
One way or another, Magilou isn't afraid of her; either she knows she won't harm her... or she isn't worried that she could. It doesn't really matter which. Jean doesn't want to fight.
That mysterious smile gets a tilt of Jean's head, but true to what she said, she does relax. Oh, she's got a little of that coiled cat, but she can't turn that completely off, even when she's relaxed.
"I'm not," Jean answers. "I thought I would have to... but the old Master is dead. I'll find other ways to take down his teachers."
Destroying whence one came...
"But that's exactly what I plan to do. I won't let them steal another child's life."
<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.
Well, Magilou won't take it for /granted/ that Jean won't take the opportunity to go for her throat. (Is that why she's so happily displaying it?) Indeed, she half /expects/ Jean to come at her, not that her casual body language betrays it.
That she doesn't tells Magilou quite a lot about Jean's level of development, having left the nest.
Magilou grins, sly, as Jean says she won't let them steal any more children. "Taking on responsibilities for the next generation is quite the task," she warns her, oblique. "Particularly if you mean to smother those ideals in their cradle."
Her hands drop; one rests on her hip, as she sways, loosely, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Does it bother you?" She asks, apropos of nothing.
"... that you didn't get to kill him, I mean."
<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.
Jean doesn't do it! Instead, she listnes. And the warning--"I know," she says. "It's not small. And changing the hearts of those who remain... I don't know how I'll do it, yet. Even if I just kill every remaining teacher, will the students choose to change...?" It's something she's thought long and hard about, and she doesn't have an answer. To smother ideals...
But Magilou sways, and Jean looks up to her, tilting her head again at the coming question--and straightening when it comes.
'That you didn't get to kill him, I mean.'
Jean looks over Magilou, calm. She watches her for a few moments--there is no bloodlust in her eyes. There is a quiet sadness that is more and more obvious as the moments pass.
"...Only because I would've spared Pearl that," Jean says quietly. "But even so..."
She shakes her head. "It doesn't feel 'over'."
<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.
"Students become masters, you know," Magilou says, close to purring again, though it's a far more dangerous statement than before, "in a natural progression from prey to predator. I wonder how you'll cope with such a thing..."
Once again, she's not naming any names. Any resemblance she has to an old master is entirely coincidental.
But there -- no bloodlust, only sadness. The children of today really /are/ a different breed, Magilou remarks, to herself, as her aloft wrist flaps one way and her hips cock the other.
"Oh, no, not over in the slightest," Magilou agrees, smoothly. "Even if you were to fling all four Heroes into the heart of a volcano, the architecture they headed would remain. It would take decades to dismantle it, one faithful heart at a time."
There's a terrible shadow over her face, which sets her eyes to glinting and her smile all knives, as Magilou intimates: "Why, ensuring no one would remember such a thing could take a lifetime of work -- and you don't seem the type to have more than one up your sleeve."
Her hand comes to rest on her cheek; she tilts her head, merrily. "Bet you fifty gald you quit before it's done," Magilou tells her, her ominous tone replaced with lightheartedness in an instant.
<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.
How will she cope with such a thing? Jean isn't sure yet; she knows it's possible. She thinks back to Pearl's student, and wonders what Amy is doing now. Pearl herself...
Well. Magilou agrees pretty smoothly, but Jean shakes her head. "That's true, but even just the fight against Lunn doesn't feel over. His legacy lives on." The rest is not her task alone; she can get help with that. But a smile is knives, a terrible shadow...
"Hmmm." She actually smiles, but only after Magilou makes the bet. She's lighthearted, all of a sudden--but Jean has very good people instincts. She keeps on that smile for another few moments.
"I'll take that bet," she says breezily. "And if I make it to being an old woman, you'll owe me interest on that money."
What? Lemina's her friend. She knows about interest.
"I'll do it," she says. "...Even if I admit I don't really know how, yet. Maybe I'll learn something when we go to Pentagulia. Or maybe if one of my other leads pans out."
"...But I won't do it today," she admits, shaking her head. "The trail is cold. I'm going to need to find a new approach. So look forward to it!"
She makes a 'v' sign with her fingers, and then says, "...I could use a drink before that, though."
<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.
"Interest?! Ugh! Humans are getting wilier by the day!" Magilou pouts, sagging forward at the waist, arms hanging loosely downwards. "Fine, fine. You'll get your interest, you snake!"
It's hardly a problem for her; after all, thanks in /large part/ to interest, Magilou has enough wealth to cover all her hedonistic tendencies and then some. But it's always been about the /principle/ of the thing.
She straightens up, with a puff through her cheeks. "Oh, well. Maybe you'll be ready to hear how I did it, one day," Magilou remarks, breezily, as if she hadn't just dropped one /hell/ of a bombshell in the same tone as one might greet an acquaintance in passing.
Magilou starts strolling off, waving a hand as she goes. "Oh, I'm sure this inn is far too boring to have any of /that,/" she asides, "... but I might happen to have something on me. You coming, or what?"
<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.
Jean still isn't sure how she feels about Magilou, but then, she isn't entirely sure how she feels about herself, either. So that's fair. She still considers making it to old age a pretty big 'if' in the kind of life she's in. But it's fun to imagine it at times like this.
Being able to think about it at all is so different.
"Ha! Take that, gambling!" Not that Jean doesn't gamble. She just made a bet! ...But unlike what she would've done once in her life, this time she's betting on /herself/. That's something that counts for a lot.
"Maybe!" Jean answers brightly, but she can't entirely hide the way she marvels a little at Magilou in that moment; she's impressed. Magilou has implied a few things in this conversation, and Jean's picked some of them up. 'Destroying whence one came'. 'Routing from the shadows to the stage'. Oh, Jean is sure Magilou knows something...
"But I'm pretty sure I only have the one lifetime to do it in!"
But--she has a good point about the inn. They probably /don't/ have alcohol. But Magilou...
"I might be!" she says, and takes a few longer, faster steps to catch up with Magilou.
Sure, she has some of her own, but it's always better shared...