2022-06-30: Don't You Like Puzzles?

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  • Log: Don't You Like Puzzles?
  • Cast: Magilou, Seraph Harmaus
  • Where: Pao Village
  • Date: June 30, 2022
  • Summary: Magilou and Harmaus cross paths a time after the incident at the Light Shrine, Hoel. He asks of her for more answers for his questions, but ah... some things are not so readily had as that.

<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.

    As it happens, Pao is the home of the delightful Strawberry Paond Cake... and, right now, to a travelling sorceress. One of these things surely inspired the other!

    This late at night, though -- the inn are closed. The Blue Star peeks out from behind the distant mountains, shining in the sky. The village streets are empty, villagers safely away in their homes. All is quiet, peaceful...

    So of course, there's a witch lurking about.

    Magilou has perched herself on the roof of the local item shop, one stockinged leg stretched out over the tiles, the other pulled up to her chest. One arm rests on the knee, dangling idly out in front of her; the other stretches back, palm laid against the roof, offering counterweight to her unbalanced stance. Her broad, two-pronged hat -- a witch's hat, so she says -- rests comfortably atop her head, and offers her a horned profile in the half-light of the stars.

    "It's almost complete," she says, quietly, gaze lidding as she lifts her gaze to the distant Spiritcrest. "Just as I said, I'll deliver them..." Her gaze is faithless, as she sighs.

    "... but try as they might, it won't change anything."

    Whoever she's speaking to knows better than to dispute her fatalism, when she's in such a melancholic mood.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.

    She isn't alone. Even if she had planned to be so, Magilou is not alone.

    "...What minds it," comes the voice of a particular Seraph, similarly perched now atop the roof of the item shop. "The stars? Or, the Blue Star! So near. So far." Settling himself amidst the tiles, his tail swishes once, twice, the rasp of his fur invisible to all but the most rarified of ears. "Ah. But I has questions for it, too," Harmaus continues, his amber gaze lifting to the sky above. "Knows it much that it not telling me prior. A troubling position it puts me into! But ah... þetta reddast. All is mended yet, yes?"

    He has begun to carefully wash his face with a paw, much like a real cat might. Ah, how the body plays tricks on the mind!

    "It starts first with 'Malakim'? Ah, or prefers it, 'Artorius'? Or true Lord of Calamity! ...Minds it, thinks I still it is trickings me. Much Malevolence feels I on Lucia!"

    He really doesn't even start with 'how are you' or 'how do you do'. As always, Harmaus pursues such things singlemindedly. ...Like a cat after a mouse.

<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.

    "Ah... the child has come to my knee, all a-full of questions and curiosities." Magilou's dour gaze casts over to Harmaus as he intrudes; her brow lifts, in some vague acknowledgement.

    Two beats of the clock later, the corner of her lip lifts in a too-loose grin. She is fond of him, really. It's a shame the rakes he's walking into, when he was such a sweet boy. (Was he really, Magilou?)

    "But you misunderstand me, Harmaus," Magilou corrects him, back stretching out, all braced by her hand. "My debt is paid, and I'm a tired old woman. I have no interest in litigating every avenue of the past to slake your infernal thirst. If you've this many questions, claim another set of hands and read a book."

    Magilou lifts her hand from her knee, to curl at her chin. "Though I suppose Hiro would thank me if I disabused you of that particular notion... I wonder how much I could extort from him, mm?" Her humour is thin on the ground, but she is making some effort.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.

    Harmaus' tailtip twitches. "Child, yes, but only 'gainst one elder as it. Near all other Seraphim surrounding are but babes! Thus knowings it much, when so much yet was lost. Its memory yet remains."

    Is this... flattery, from Harmaus?

    It avails him little, in the end. She says her debt is paid -- that she is a tired old woman. That he should turn himself towards the books for the answers he seeks. "Tcha," growls Harmaus, slitting his eyes. "My debt remains yet unpaid. Took I the role of tester... trialer... teacher?" Harmaus tries out each word in turn, as if seeking the proper word in the common tongue, each failure earning another twitch of his ears. "Jaeja. Says it yet, I seeks it myself? This knowledge. Tcha. Knows it the location of this 'all-knowing book'? Much is lost. Buried, by Her hand! Seeks I out scraps over the centuries and still little, little knows I. Of what had gone and passed before. Of Her nature. ...Of the Lord of Calamity."

    He has tilted his head -- curious, perhaps. Or maybe frustrated? Or it might even be both. "Hiro... Knows I the name. One who clings close to Lucia, yes? Troublesome, troublesome..." But there is a dull glint in those eyes of his. "What knows it of 'Hiro'? What brings it to Lucia's side?"

    Is he... plotting something?

<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.

    "Hmm..?" Magilou prompts him with a hum, green-purple gaze sliding sidelong to him. "Did I not answer your questions, that day, just the same..? Oh, you greedy boy."

    She pulls her knee in, so she can settle her stance into one more sitting up than slouched aside. "... though, you did well," she grants him that much, in turn. "Perhaps you'll find some account that sates you, one day."

    There; she's given him the disparate pieces. Figuring out what to search for is on him.

    Magilou drums her fingers against her leg, raising her brow. "Oh, him? That fool boy is loyal to a fault. It's a really boring story!" She laughs, and reclaims a little more of her good humour in the process.

    "But this Lord of Calamity isn't she," Magilou says, again, with a broad shrug, and says a thousand words with one. "Or perhaps, academically, the Lord of Calamity can be considered as much a reputation as it is a power -- why, if you consider Lucia's reputation enough, you may as well bow to me." Magilou rests her cheek against her palm, with a sharp grin, and fails to explain whether she's joking entirely.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.

    This earns her quite the glare from Harmaus. "Ah? Counts it halfways and incompletions answers to my questions?" he says to her, his tail thumping, thumping against the tile of the roof. "Is not greed. Seeks I fullness in all things," he tells her, one ear twitching as if he were hearing something far off.

    "And still it provides only halfways and incompletes," Harmaus sighs, even when she says that he did well, with what he had. "Knows it the fullness of what I seeks, and still! Still, it denies me." His ears have flattened, a strange preview of whatever might now rest in his heart. "...I have wounded for less," he tells her, no sense of mirth in his gaze. "But I honors still our 'friendship'. I honors for what it tells me before. ...I stays my hands, now." Desperation -- even with immortality -- can breed a particular form of impatience. Certainly he has the time to search the world if he so chose, but the information he seeks is a good deal more limited and crumbling constantly.

    What remains over a thousand years hence? People die. Tomes rot. Lore is forgotten.

    But she has at least given him an important clue: what he seeks must still remain in this world. Thus...

    "Boring? Hm..." Harmaus hums, at least for now tilting away from the frontal assault on the witch who may yet hold the answers to his unrelenting quest. "How knows it true Lord of Calamity from false? Were I standing again before Lucia, speaks me her presence of Malevolence, of power, of truth! Where comes this aura?"

    In other words, he's still skeptical of Magilou's claim, which may be suggested by the slow thump, thump, twitch of his longhaired tail.

<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.

    "Aww," Magilou simpers, "don't you like puzzles? I love puzzles! It would just be rude, if I gave the game away like that!" She snaps her fingers, as if to indicate just how quickly like that is.

    She grins, all knives: "We can go a round, if you like, but imagine how tired I'd be after that." If she's disinclined to share secrets now...

    One volume might even be closer than he thinks! (There are many volumes, of course; Magilou takes only the one most applicable to her problems with her, to help jog her memory. She has many locations, for editions of the rest -- indeed, tomes rot.) But it would be improper, to paw at a lady's skirt, so never mind that.

    Magilou stretches her arms up over her head, and when they come down, they lace behind it. "Hmm. Let's say... it's a matter of pattern recognition," she settles on, after a moment. "There are two types of Lords of Calamity in the world, Harmaus. The ones who have more going on -- and the ones who live up to their hype."

    Does Hiro realise how much he gave her, when he and Ruby sniped to each other about Lucia's curse, and the way the Shepherd's Purification might have killed her? Particularly given the aside implication of an old friend... really, these children are lucky Magilou is such a benevolent actress.

    (Is Hiro really lucky?)

    "Propaganda is worth examining," Magilou says, idly. "Back in my day -- some people swore the Lord of Calamity was a demonic clown with a ripshorn sense of humour. Now, I'm not particularly Malevolent, am I?" She looks aside to Harmaus, with a mysterious grin; it's a ridiculous question, because there is zero Malevolence in her heart, despite her terminally contrary nature. "But the stories were mixed up. People misplaced their terror. One monster became another."

    She closes one eye, and remarks: "Now, don't you suppose that Malevolence could come to a woman by some other route than Calamity? But if she waddles like a duck, it would be ever so simple to create a story that she is, in fact, a duck, and not a fledgling swan."

    Her other eye closes, which is a remarkable amount of trust to extend to a Seraph who's expressed such exasperation. "But I'll tell you one thing for free," Magilou says, as if it's the first thing she's told Harmaus today. "You can tell a lot about a Lord of Calamity by her generals. We were all evil souls, of course, save the boy -- but my, the band Lucia's gathered are fluffy little buttermuffins. So if you were to pin me to the board -- and I assure you I'm aware of your desire -- I'd simply say that I know true from false by the likes of Hiro and Ruby." Judging the character of the Lord of Calamity by her friends... could it be that Magilou has 'faith' in them?

    Perish the thought.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.

    "Tcha," he grouses, flicking one ear. "I has enough of puzzles for decades. Centuries! Spent I enough time worrying, working, wondering," he sighs, his tail swishing as if to underscore his irritation. His eyes are slitted as he gazes up at her.

    They certainly could fight. Right here, right now. But--

    "Jaeja. Knows I when I has enough," Harmaus says, diplomatically. Does, he though? Does he really?

    At least he minds his manners and refrains from pawing at the tomes on her very person. Though he may just eye them, as if to silently query whether the answers he so diligently seeks might be ever-so-close at hand. Still, he says not a word, a remarkable display of restraint for one as fallen as he.
    But then, he knows just how well it's likely to go, and while he may be anything other than prudent, this is one particular bridge he's loath to torch just yet. Not while he might still tease forth a few more scraps before ere they part ways.

    "Two kinds? Jaeja. Learns I such a new thing now!" he remarks, settling down on the rooftop as if preparing for a nap, or -- perhaps -- just for storytime by Magilou's side. "So many's the like birthed into this world. Curious, curiouser. ...But, means it if Lucia's power teased just so, the Lord of Calamity she could yet become?"

    Her aura is right. He's certain of it.

    "...It was claimed 'Lord of Calamity'? But feels I no such... mmm. I considers this," Harmaus says, after fixing Magilou with quite the look. "Lucia gathers about her much Malevolence, yet remains unchanged. Many mortals manifest monstrosities," he says, tail swishing slowly as if he were in deep contemplation, "but she, yet... merely is."

    There's a lot that can be told about a Lord of Calamity by her companions, Magilou says.

    "...Then needs Lucia a new cohort to bloom. Ah," Harmaus murmurs. "Yes. I sees it... now."

<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.

    Magilou is someone who documents -- certainly she wrote the souls of dying towns down in her leather-bound diaries, so many centuries ago. A historian, she calls herself. Perhaps those books are what Harmaus seeks.

    Or perhaps they're pop-up books and layer cakes.

    It could go either way, given the Millennium Witch.

    Magilou sighs, shaking her head. "Oh, Harmaus," in just the fond way one might chide someone who has, predictably, stepped right into a rake. "You truly have a talent for finding the most creative answer available to you."

    Which is a really creative way to say she thinks he's on the wrong path entirely. She could just tell him that, but this is just one more avenue which Magilou is frustratingly obscure about. Magilou does nothing straight, let alone answers.

    Her arms stretch, out to either side of her, before they fall behind; she drops back on them, weight settled backwards again. "Hmm... let me ask you this," she settles on, instead.

    Eyes to the sky: "Do you think the Lord of Calamity is someone who will bring Althena down?"

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.

    He might be very disappointed were he to try for the books she so wears. He might only get a pop-up dove to the face.

    Another reason to opt, at least for now, for the peacible path. Which includes, perhaps, the sort of creative interpretation that only someone like Harmaus could spin up.

    If anything he seems almost... pleased by her answer. "Long has I, contemplating what I gleans. Not an easy path to the truth, no! Many twists and turns necessary. But this, ah... at long last, the truth presents itself to me." His tail swishes, once. "Many speaks I of what I learns, but little believe. Little faith," he finishes, going so far as to sigh.

    It's certainly creative. Creatively wrong. But how to make someone who only digs in the more the facts stand against their ideas understand that?

    Perhaps it is best not to try -- or at least, not to try so overtly.

    His gaze turns towards the heavens, eventually, the gleam of the stars and the Blue Star, perhaps, reflected against his amber. A seed of an idea is beginning to form. If he should pair the power of the Blue Star, a certain ungerminated seed, the desires of a young maiden and the most potent catalyst of them all, the one who might yet become the Lord of Calamity--

    He turns his head from the heavens and towards Magilou.

    So what is it that he thinks of the Lord of Calamity, anyway? Are they someone who--

    "...Yes. Yes, yes," Harmaus repeats. "Bring Her down. Illuminate the truth She hides. Anitia tried. Lucia... must succeed."

<Pose Tracker> Magilou has posed.

    Luckily, Magilou isn't a very overt sort of woman. Well, unless we're talking about being overtly annoying; she's very good at that.

    "Twisty-turny, shifty-clergy, risky-journey, hire an attourney... o/`"

    Just like that.

    Magilou laughs, lightly -- unkindly. "Because Althena's Guard loathes the Lord of Calamity so? Because they are the final barrier between humanity and Malevolence? Because the Seraphim were tasked with your clever little Domains to ward the poison from men's hearts?"

    She reverses the position of her hands against the tiles, and promptly lies down on the rooftop. Hands folded behind her head, she looks up, to the starry sky, with a grin slung across her face like hung fabric. "It's a straightforward reading of the text," Magilou says, dismissively. "But hey! I'm sure it'll work out for you." She does not sound at all confident it will work out for him.

    And in that smugness, she's quiet, for a moment.

    "... geez," Magilou sighs, in the wake of the ticking clock. "We really let you kids down... but I guess that's what happens when everyone with parenting instincts goes away." Eleanor, and Eizen, and...

    Oh, don't make her bring out the list.

    Perhaps it speaks something of Magilou's fondness for the worst cat in Lunar, though -- and why she's still offering him advice, even after he's burned so many other bridges amongst his people.

    "You know... I do hope you find an answer that satisfies you." Magilou's eyes close, again. "... but if I just told you, it wouldn't change anything," and if anything, her tone's gone wistful, all a sudden.

    "Because you're not just looking for answers, Harmaus. You're looking for melioration. That's not something I can give you... I'm just a mean old witch, after all. Maybe you'll find it... maybe the conflict will consume you. Who knows?"

    Magilou lifts her elbows, in something like a shrug. "... but grandma's tired now, kiddo. I'll tell you a story some other time." Whether Magilou would really fall asleep just out here on the roof...

    Oh, who are we kidding, she absolutely would.