Difference between revisions of "4125/Where the Wind Blows"

Latest revision as of 01:32, 27 May 2016

Sarah (316) has posed:
The Toran Republic is a place that has seen its fair share of conflict over the years, whether from armies or from quieter battles between individuals. Lately, it's become quite the sleepy burg around the shores of Toran Lake, its old castle the only real sign that an army had ever been here at all in living memory -- hunched like some guardian beast, albeit one that's slowly coming apart at its seams.

Sunset has already fallen over the lake, painting it in colours of fire, and now the sky lingers in that state between light and dark. The first and brightest of the stars gleam in the sky, and a half-moon hangs low in the sky, so low and bright it seems like it could almost be touched.

Thin clouds scud across the sky, and a slight humidity makes the air a little less crisp than it might otherwise be. Summer's coming, if it isn't already here, and the warm summer evening just begs the frivolous soul to take a swim in the lake.

Sarah is not taking a swim in the lake, tonight. The wind mage will actually find her on the roof, if he's looking for her; and he'll feel that the True Water Rune is somewhat restive, too.

She's up on the roof, all right, and so is the smell of blood. One of the chimerae that guards the estate is there, with a few arrows punched into its lion's flank; Sarah is there with a table beside her and several surgical implements, attempting to dig out the offending barbs, and simultaneously soothe a creature half murderous with the pain. It looks like she's finally resorted to abusing her magic to knock the thing out, letting her work in peace. She's rolled her sleeves up past the elbows, and her hands are likewise stained with blood.

Another thing Luc would notice, pretty easily, is that she's /pissed/. Sarah is not a person to lose her temper easily, but the True Water Rune makes it obvious when she does.

It's almost summer, if it isn't already, and there's a thin rime of ice on the stones around her, and on the greatstaff leaned up against the table; some of the blood that stains her dress is likewise frozen, crackling whenever she moves a certain way.

She's muttering angrily under her breath, but the words aren't clear. Something about idiot hunters and glory-seekers, or treasure hunters. It's not clear what exactly she's cursing about, but it's something in that vein.

Luc (237) has posed:
"We might want to put a tag of some kind on that creature."

The Wind Mage emerges from the stairwell leading up from the inside of the castle. Perhaps he's feeling inclined towards exercise, or perhaps his laziness today is manifesting in an unwillingness to abuse magic specifically, and the price that he pays is not being able to be physically lazy. As it is, he's dressed in one of his older outfits today. A white robe with golden trim and a pale green ... it's hard to call it a tabard, but the idea is similar, trimmed in pale yellow-brown. It's a lot looser and breathes better than the outfit he prefers as a bishop.

At the moment, Luc carries a rod. Not a staff, more of a cane. It is topped with a rounded knob of a head, of polished bronze. Luc comes to a halt next to Sarah, though well out of 'arm's reach' of the chimera on the ground. He stands there in silence for a moment, then raises the rod to brush Sarah's neck with the side of it. He avoids touching her arms, so she can actually /work/, though being prodded in the neck is likely distracting as well. Not quite as immediately disruptive as having something in the way of one's arms.

"You," he says, "are quite wroth. That is not like you at all. Like the surface of a lake on a calm day, but right now you're a /very/ angry sea. Wouldn't want to go swimming on a day like that."

Luc withdraws the rod, leaning on it as if on a cane. A contrast to Sarah's unusual anger, the Wind Mage seems to be closer to his previous mischevious self than is ordinary. This might prove to be an unwelcome mixture, just now. Idly, he wonders whether or not this is Sarah herself, or if the rune is what's acting up. The same, he supposes, might be asked of him.

He looks down towards the frozen stones beneath Sarah's feet, and begins rhythmically tapping at them with the tip of his rod, trying to chip the ice. Then, he says, "It may help to calm down a little, your mood is more suited to murder by far than to what you're doing."

Sarah (316) has posed:
Sarah pays no heed to the ice that forms underfoot, crackling as it's either created or ground underfoot with every step she takes. It's far too warm for that kind of thing to form naturally, and the pulsing light of the True Water Rune identifies the culprit immediately. It senses her fury, and it tries to slip through the cracks like a chained beast straining at its lead to be let free.

She keeps control over it, letting it play at a little light dusting over the flagstones, but only just. If she might be a silent lake on most days, today she's an angry sea in hurricane season, as Luc observes.

"I," she snaps angrily, voice quiet but sharp as a whipcrack, "am quite wroth, yes. Some bloody-minded idiot shot and could have killed my chimera. Thankfully I don't believe there were casualties on either side, but it could have started an incident. I'd rather not have to deal with a riotous mob marching on the castle demanding to know why we have man-killers guarding the perimeters."

She pauses to spit a curse in something unfamiliar, possibly Sindar. It sounds so elegant in that language, even if it's probably something shockingly coarse to her tongue. Another piece of arrowhead is flung away.

"You can come as close as you like. I've put the beast under. It won't feel a thing, and it won't be awake again for some time." She sounds at least a little calmer, but there's another flare of aggravation when she feels the cool bronze poking at the side of her neck. She flicks him a brief glare, colourless eyes peeved, but she doesn't otherwise comment on it, forcing her annoyance down.

He's right. More to the point, she really isn't angry at /him/. She's angry at small-minded village idiots with crossbows and things to prove.

She draws in a deep breath, letting it go in a huff. "You're right. I'm sorry." She punctuates her statement with a pat on the beast's flank, which leaves a bloody smear. "They aren't just mindless summoned golems, to me. They're living, breathing creatures. And I don't appreciate it when some village idiot pokes them full of holes because they felt like target practise. These creatures feel pain, too. This poor thing was half mad by the time I was able to direct it back here."

Sarah looks... almost sad, for a moment, as she runs slightly bloody fingers along its bloodstained hide. "I can't bear to see even a monster like this used as a tool and disregarded so completely. I was used that way, once, too. And I can't bear to see these village idiots treating them like things that don't feel pain, or don't have feelings of their own. Do you remember, I summoned two chimerae, when we came here? If you think I'm angry now, you should have seen this one's mate when he came roaring in. I had to put him to sleep just to keep him from having a little bloody vengeance. They feel pain. And they feel anger, too."

"Yes, you're right." The water mage sighs, irritably chucking another piece of arrowhead aside, and splaying bloodied fingers over the wound, eyes hooding as she draws on on the True Water Rune to knit the torn flesh. "--Perhaps I should make them collars."

Luc (237) has posed:
"You shouldn't worry about that," Luc answers cheerily, resting both hands on his rod and rocking back and forth a little, "the /last/ government left a zombie dragon in the basement to deter visitors, so they're quite used to this place being a pit of pestilence and fanged murder. A little chimerae isn't exactly all that outstanding by comparison." He jerks the rod lightly to point at the chimerae. "For that matter, they probably troubled it because it's not big enough to deter them. Summon something bigger, it still won't send them a-rowing over with pitchforks and torches."

"They'll just go back to ignoring this place and staying away."

The Wind Mage steps forward at Sarah's invitation, shifting the rod to his left side. With his /right/ hand, he just sort of... starts petting Sarah on the head. No ruffles, that would be too disruptive to what she's doing. His lips spread into a vaguely bitter smile as he answers, "It may be that you're altogether right, but I can't say that I blame them too much. It's true that they're quite insensitive to these creatures, and also that they have more substance to them than non-magicians offer credit."

"But they're predators, and humans are often the prey. There is a reason that we casually smite the creatures we find in our travels, and also a reason why we occasionally wander off to go hunting down beasts that have managed to sprout a rune or two on their persons in the mountains." He gives Sarah's head a pointed tap with his index finger. "That's how you broke your staff, isn't it?"

Luc doesn't really expect that to go over particularly well, but he doesn't press the subject. He withdraws his hand, kneeling down to get a better look at the injuries as he continues to speak, "Use Lady Leknaat's emblem, this country knows it well. She used to do regular horoscopes for the royals, before Lady Windy got greedy and started bumbling about for True Runes like a freshly crowned pirate king bumbling about for treasure."

"I'm sure Lady Leknaat wouldn't mind. You /are/ one of her apprentices, after all." He pre-empts any possible objections, though his tone is decidedly mischevious. Luc already sees multiple directions this could go. Being that their former teacher is able to /see the future/, he's already decided that if there is even the slightest possibility Sarah would agree to this and Leknaat minded, they would be pre-empted. Either it's utterly unimportant, or...

Or Sarah would steadfastly and categorically refuse in all possible iterations of this conversation.

Sarah (316) has posed:
Where Luc stands back on the balls of his feet, rocking back and forth, Sarah is all action, moving quickly to extricate what she can from the creature's wound. She won't be able to keep it under for too long, and while she trusts her bond with it to keep her from being injured, having it thrash around too much will make her job that much more difficult. Also, she's angry, and working enthusiastically keeps her from letting that anger channel even more into the True Water Rune. That would be dangerous.

"Yes, well, I'd like to find a happy medium between making use of formidable creatures to guard our home, and not having idiot villagers find ways to cause incidents with them." Sarah huffs a sigh, frowning at the blood on her hands; it's sticky and difficult to get a grip on anything properly, but at least she's almost done. "I'll see to fashioning a collar for them so these creatures are known--"

She doesn't stop working, but she does clap her jaw shut on whatever she was saying, almost scowling when Luc starts stroking her hair like that. The way he does it suggests he's trying to distract her, but it doesn't do much more than make her pause for an instant and eye him a little oddly.

"Yes, they are predators. That is precisely the point. An herbivore wouldn't be able to defend itself as well in the face of an actual predator, or a human hunter." She smiles, a little coldly. "Also, such creatures tend to be more intimidating to the average villager." That had been her intent, initially; win the battle before starting it. Scare them off and they wouldn't need to bloody their claws. A bit of careful control and she was able to train them not to chase fleeing villagers; to sate their hunger on the deer and other wildlife of the lake shore. "I underestimated the idiocy of hot-blooded young men wanting to prove themselves."

She casts aside another piece of arrowhead, setting in to remove the pieces of splintered arrow shaft from the beast's flank. "My staff? No. Well, you could say so, I suppose, at risk of insulting wild beasts everywhere. I tried to parry a blow from Luca Blight. I have never met a force that could damage this staff, but his blade did. It shattered in the final battle at Annu; I..."

She sobers a little; obviously the memory hurts. It's very rare indeed that the composed and orderly Sarah trails off so.

"I asked too much of it, and channeled the True Water Rune Incarnation. I suppose it had its limits, even as a thing crafted by Mistress Leknaat, and even the finest focus would find those limits against that."

Sarah shakes her head, casting aside more pieces of splintered wood, using the True Rune to knit the ragged edges of the wound where she can, fingers splayed over the bloodied ruin of the chimera's flank. She looks sad, for a moment; lines of sorrow graven in her otherwise calm face, brow furrowed. Before that sorrow can direct her thoughts, she pushes it aside, shaking her head. Sapphire earrings clink at the movement, and she turns her eyes back down to the wounded beast.

"Perhaps. I should not like to do that without consulting her, though." She casts a brief, flat look back at Luc. "I am not her apprentice, not truly; not as you were. I shouldn't like to take such liberties without her permission. Say what you will, but we are not in regular contact with her, and I prefer not to make assumptions in this case." She shrugs. "If it means no more incidents like this, though, then I suppose it may be worth it." Those colourless eyes settle on Luc again, not quite glowering. "What?" And then she smiles, a little sourly. "You sound awfully sure of yourself, Luc."

Luc (237) has posed:
"This particular area has seen too many rough times not to be a bit calloused. You weren't here for the Gate Rune Wars." Luc tosses his rod into the air and catches it, striding over towards the edge of the roof. He points out towards the southwest, across the lake towards the opposite shore and beyond. He explains, "You may not be familiar with them, but there are quite a few young men that I am acquaintances with from a little village in that direction. I /know/ I've dragged you to Neclord's old haunt. Tucked up against the hills just before that, though, is Scarleticia Castle."

"General Oppenheimer lives there again now, but back then the place was intended for use as a check against invasion from the Jowston City-States. It had a great bloody rose growing out of it, the size of a house." He turns about, setting the tip of the rod against the floor again. "Belched poison gas everywhere in the vicinity. Killed an enormous chunk of our army before we got ahold of an antidote that would let us storm right on through with impunity."

Luc wags the cane towards the chimerae, "Compared to Neclord and zombie dragons and that flower, /he/ isn't much. But even if he was, the Warrior's Village is out that way. There are plenty of folk out here who have their heads screwed on straight and would still just see those chimerae as a challenge. Hot-blooded young men, as you put it."

"Flik /is/ an idiot, mind you."

With regards to Luca Blight, Luc shrugs a little and answers, "The man was what the tensions between Highland and the City-States made him. It's hardly an insult to nature or wild beasts to compare him to them. Nature doesn't much care for anybody intrinsically, either."

The matter of the staff's shattering, and Annu, go unremarked on. Sarah is in a bad enough mood, those aren't memories to prod at overlong. She spoke her mind, Luc is letting it go.

With regards to Leknaat's mind on the matter, Luc strides forward again, whirling the rod in his hand whimsically. "Well," He says, "Lady Leknaat can see the future, so there is limited possibility in regards to anything related to her. If it's important enough for her to take notice, she'd have pre-empted you and sent a letter or come to visit. If it's not, then it's not worth worrying about, /or/ she simply doesn't care."

"I also considered the possibility that no iteration of yourself would actually agree to use Lady Leknaat's sign without permission, which would preclude the necessity of any sort of pre-empting to begin with." Luc settles the rod down in his left hand, again. He adds, "Don't think about it too much, you'll want to end the world."

Sarah (316) has posed:
"No, but I have read certain histories. Don't forget the part where I spent fifteen years of my life locked in the world's largest library." Sarah flashes a smile, hard-edged though it may be. She keeps herself busy as she does, extracting the last of the shattered arrows and knitting the last of the creature's wounds. "I admit, I remember little of what I read in that particular instance. I suppose I'd gone through so many volumes of history that some of it is, these days, a bit fuzzy around the edges."

It was, now that she thinks about it, quite some time ago that she had read about those things; years now that she's been free of that sprawling library. Luc had not needed to do much in the way of cajoling to convince her to leave with him; she had practically begged him to free her from the One Temple. Even living with personalities like Leknaat and Luc had been a welcome change for such a desperately lonely young woman.

Now, she wouldn't change that experience for the world.

"I remember Neclord's little lair." Sarah wrinkles her nose as she gives the beast a fond, and gentle, pat. It's not conscious to notice it, but that little show of affection is a clue into her inner nature. She is not quite as cold and detached as she might try to make herself seem, sometimes, to the general populace -- she cares about creatures like these summoned beasts more than most would. "I prefer not to remember much more of it than the fact that I have, indeed, been there. I do not remember mention of Scarleticia Castle, though, and I'm rather glad that's the case, to hear /that/."

That's one disturbing garden prize. "I suppose I could have frozen it, if I had been with you, but I'm not sure if even that would have had any effect on something grown so large. That isn't natural. Was there a rune involved, somehow?" Curiosity takes over. "No. No, never mind; it's probably better that I don't know."

"I suppose." Still, she shrugs. Whether that's about the chimerae or about Luca Blight, she doesn't clarify; with as closely as they understand each other, he would probably infer that she's talking about both of them. Sighing, she draws back from the stricken chimera, glancing down at her hands. She looks like she's gone on an axe-murdering spree; her hands are bloody up to the elbows, and her dress is all bit ruined. Thinning her lips, she glances back at him as he presents his little Mobius pretzel of logic.

Sarah (316) has posed:
And she just stares at him for a moment, flatly; though not angrily. It seems he's at least managed to take her out of her foul temper.

At length she snorts, then laughs softly. "I guess you're right. You worked with her more closely than I ever did. If you think it's alright, I'll use her sigil. You're right; the people here will at least recognise /that/, if nothing else. I suppose I could use the Flowing Rune, but that wouldn't be very specific. I could use the True Water Rune, but that would be /too/ specific." Not to mention too revealing.

"I think I'm going to continue this conversation from the bath house, if you don't mind. Care to join me? The only way I'm going to get this off is going to be to bathe, and I'd best soak for a bit, besides. I was working at that for some time before you came up. I may have overdone." Sarah sighs, indicating her bloody hands. "I look like--like a lunatic, I suppose." Or a pale, scrawny impression of a female Luca Blight, maybe. "Last one down is bait for those ridiculous axe-rabbits," she murmurs with a half-smile--

--and with a scattering cloud of mist, she's gone. If he follows, he'll find her exactly where she says she'll be.

And recently, too. If he's quick, he'll find the blood is still clouding in the water even as Sarah eases herself into the heat, grimacing. It's hot enough to feel good, but also hot enough to sting a little. "No, love," she clarifies, finally, to his final statement. "Didn't we do that once, already? It didn't solve anything." Her smile is a little sad. "I'd much rather focus on the good, and I have plenty of that, thanks to you."

There's a short pause.

"You know, we should travel again," she muses. "I'd like to find some interesting wine again."

Luc (237) has posed:
"The overall war," Luc explains, gesturing loosely with his hands, "involved the usage of the half of the Gate Rune that can summon. There were quite a few unusual beasts fielded in the Scarlet Moon Empire, as well as quite a few things those history books hadn't had the time to collect information on. For instance!" He taps at the Rune upon his hand, "Lady Windy had managed to create some sort of artificial rune that was able to control the behavior of others. They have no known origin, and none have been seen since Windy's supposed death alongside Emperor Barbarossa."

"Yuber was /also/ on the field at the time. Little shit went running when Lady Leknaat blasted away three quarters of his army with the assistance of the head of the Dragon Knights."

"We also had /Crowley/ on our side midway through the war, which was something else. The man was /covered/ in Runes. I would judge him near as powerful as I. Crankly old bastard, though. Hid in the basement the whole war, unless he was blasting things." He frowns a little, using the head of his rod to scratch his chin. "Talked a lot about experiments that might blow up the castle, but nothing ever seemed to come of it. Sometimes I wonder if he was just puffing up his legend."

"Not that he'd need to."

"In total, both halves of the Gate Rune, the True Wind Rune, Soul Eater, the Dragon Rune, and the Sovereign Rune were fielded then. People make a much bigger deal about the Dunan Unification War, but as /terrors/ go, I think that people greatly underestimate Windy. She was Lady Leknaat's sister, you know." It's probably come up before now, though. With regards to the massive flower, Luc issues a great exaggerated shrug. He says, "Oppenheimer may have been employing that artificial rune to beef it up. Who knows. There was so much experimental magic being thrown around it's a wonder we didn't all die from it."

"A surgeon, actually." He corrects Sarah, regarding what she looks like. Then, Sarah teleports away. He considers the challenge for a moment.

Invoking the Gate Rune attached to his back, Luc summons up a small troupe of the little axe-wielding psycho rabbits and teleports them ahead of himself. Summoned creatures are bound, though, and all Sarah really gets out of it is a bunch of psycho rabbits racing each other around the bath house.

Luc appears a little while after them. He shucks his shoes, rolls up the legs of his pants, and sits at the edge of the bath with his feet soaking, and rests his rod against his lap. He nods towards Sarah, "Well, best do it while I'm still in good spirits or I'll sleep your travel urges away."

Absent-mindedly, he begins stealing axes from passing rabbits, piling them up next to him as they carry on, looking more disgruntled than before.

Sarah (316) has posed:
By the time Luc reappears in the bath house, he'll find that she's sitting up in the water, staring at the little hellions running around waving their tiny weapons at each other.

"I'll never understand what twisted cosmological or evolutionary processes created /those/," she finally says, pointing a dripping finger at the little axe-wielding rabbit troupe. Her tone of voice suggests disdain. Seriously, those things are a little bizarre even by the measure of wildlife in the world that she and Luc come from. Kind of creepy, too. "Well, point made, I suppose. You can send those back from wherever it was you pulled them."

Sarah takes a moment to savour the hot water. Even though it's almost hotter than she can stand, skin flushed against it, it does serve to loosen her muscles and soothe her sour mood from earlier. By the time she opens her eyes and regards Luc again, he's relieving rabbits of tiny axes and stacking them beside himself, which brings her to eye him a bit oddly.

Weirdo.

That's Luc, though. Sometimes she just doesn't understand him -- but it's one of the things she cherishes about him. After all, if she knew every little thing about him, or every little thing he might do, it would be a terribly boring and stagnant relationship.

After a few moments, she shrugs, ducking underwater to wet her hair; coming back up sputtering a little to clear the water from her face. "I like to think that maybe you'll stay in good spirits for a while," she offers, blinking hard to clear the water and smiling at him. It's a pretty expression, one she doesn't show for anybody else -- content and affectionate; warm. "I think that part of the problem, beyond the Rune, is that we simply haven't got much to do that demands our attention. We need to create diversions for ourselves. Anybody left without a significant driving urge in their life begins to go a bit stagnant, hm?" She shrugs. "It couldn't hurt, anyway."

"I remember that sometimes you enjoyed travelling, so we should try that again. I enjoy visiting new places, too, so it's certainly no trouble to me." Lifting a hand clear of the water, she gestures nebulously -- and a thin little rope of water lifts itself up, reaches over to Luc, and... ruffles his hair, somehow avoiding getting it wet at all. It's an odd sensation. "I'm sure I can dig up a few places that have interesting things to eat. I know you always like to look after a place's local cuisine."

Luc (237) has posed:
"It is my assumption," Luc says, invoking his Blue Gate Rune to banish the rabbits, chucking the axes he's accumulated after them as they vanish within the resulting portal, "that somewhere out there, these rabbits have developed rudimentary sapience and have begun making tools accordingly. Or else they are a magical experiment that went awry and was allowed to breed in the open. They're /rabbits/, so it wouldn't take any time at all for that to occur."

"And there are some very twisted magicians out there. Magical hybrids are regulated in most reasonable countries for a reason. Nobody actually /wants/ new chimerae to come into being." He waves towards the roof with his rod, to indicate where they had come from. "It's a bit difficult to do anything about it once you've opened the floodgates and introduced a breeding population, and these things are almost always designed to murder other things well."

"Regular rabbits don't hold a candle to those little bastards, and they occupy about the same space." He jabs his rod towards the closing gate.

Luc gives a little shrug with regards to the direction his moods take him. "May be," he answers, "I could probably keep it going for a while if I bound up the True Wind Rune until I don't have any further choice to do so. It's tricky magic, but I've done it often enough that it's somewhat on the rote side for me. Lady Leknaat as well, I suspect."

"One wonders if she bound hers up, for a time. Immortality is not forsaken by such restraints."

"And you may be right. There's not really anything I am interested in doing, and not many obstacles that would stop me doing whatever I please. When Lady Leknaat cannot stand against you, there are not many /individuals/ who can hinder you, to say nothing of random, everyday..." Luc waves his rod loosely, not troubling to talk of regular setbacks. "We'll see. I'm of a mind to imitate Crowley, one day, and be rid of my little friend here."

The Wind Mage snorts when Sarah drifts over, and ruffles his hair soaking wet without getting him wet at all. He reaches down and musses her hair in turn, "/I'm/ the one who's meant to be flagrantly abusing his power. I don't mind getting a little wet. But yes. Find someplace interesting."

"Make sure there's a lake." He adds, cryptically.

Sarah (316) has posed:
"It could've been a bit of both," the water mage offers with a shrug, water rippling around her. "That wouldn't surprise me, anyway. Someone creates these things, they begin breeding, and now that a few generations have gone by, they've gained rudimentary sapience."

She wrinkles her nose. "You know, when I was a little girl, I used to think rabbits were cute. Now I can't even look at them without thinking of those little horrors."

To the chimerae, she just leans back against the basin wall, content. "I believe my chimerae are sterile. I took a calculated risk summoning a male and female; they can't reproduce, but they will die for one another. It makes them stronger defenders, and they'll fight that much harder if something threatens them. My chimerae aren't as stupid as the average village idiot thinks. These creatures /do/ have some kind of rudimentary sapience. They're at least as smart as a dog or horse, I think."

"I've never tested it, but I've never really needed to. They obey me, loyally, and that's all that matters to me." She gestures loosely, as though imitating pulling a thorn from a paw. "Having to dress a wound or pull a thorn from their paw every so often is the least I can do for them when they're willing to lay down their lives for me, you know?"

Trust her to treat such monsters with sympathy. She herself was considered a monster once upon a time; maybe that's why she's not so quick to treat them as living, breathing creatures worthy of empathy.

"I think that's part of it. I've never felt it as strongly as you do, but sometimes I feel a little apathy, too. A little apathy is normal. We don't have any significant challenges in our lives, aside from ignoring the less pleasant side effects of bearing True Runes." Sarah ducks under the surface again, streaming water when she surfaces again, running fingers through wet hair. "At least we have each other. I can only imagine what kind of state I would have been in if I had been alone. I suppose it would have driven me mad, and that would have been the end of it. The blink of an eye, in a long list of Runebearers."

She eyes him, thoughtful, when he talks about the possibility of ridding himself of the True Wind Rune. Sarah doesn't say anything for a few moments, as though mulling over what she wants to say. Eventually she thinks better of commenting; she doesn't say anything at all. They have fundamentally different views on the matter. She is inherently more optimistic about the whole affair than he is, but perhaps that's simply a product of the True Water Rune weighing less on her spirit.

All she really wishes is that she could ease that burden -- when she sacrificed herself for him, that was her dying wish, too. Sarah would do anything for him, that much she's proven, but there are some things she simply can't do for him.

"Maybe," she finally says, uncertainly.

Before she can comment further, her hair is ruffled, and she wrinkles her nose again. 'Stop that,' the expression seems to say, but there's no denying a flicker of amusement at the gesture. Little things like that -- those are proof enough that Luc is not so hopeless a case, or beyond the event horizon of return. Maybe that's why she treasures those small gestures so much, aside from their affection.

Reaching up to run her hands through her hair again, she eyes him over one shoulder, raising a pale brow. "Hm? A lake?" Her regard turns mock-suspicious. "Why? What have you got in mind, exactly? I imagine you have /something/ in mind if you mentioned that specifically."

Luc (237) has posed:
"Rabbits /are/ cute, and so are those, which is a good part of why they're dangerous."

Luc issues an exaggerated sigh when the matter of Sarah's specific chimerae come up. She's not going to stop being offended on their behalf, he realizes. He supposes he'll have to go harass the men of the Warrior's Village for a little while, or else delegate it to her to do. It might be easier to get ahold of one of his meathead friends, or... perhaps the box. Was it Hix? The Star Dragon Sword had been deferred to him after a while, if he's not misremembering. He lets his eyes drift shut partway.

"Perhaps you should. And stop them patrolling outside of our immediate waters. Or did these people really come so close as the docks?" He asks, plainly. It's almost unthinkable, but who knows. "As it is, I suppose the must needs exercise far beyond what is reasonable within the castle, though... what a bother. This is why I prefer golems, they're just vaguely animate energy that don't give two shakes what's going on so long as they can..."

He kicks the water, lightly.

"... Float around being all wobbly, or burn... or blow, as the case may be."

Luc shuts one eye, leaning forward to look down at Sarah. He shakes his head, "Nope. You'd have figured out how to bind the damn thing up, locked it up in its room, and carried on as normal. That meathead Lightfellow was able to do it, and he's not even a quarter the magician either one of us is. Plus, you read and speak Sindar, so it's not hard information for you to find if you can handle the monsters."

"It's not as hard for you because you weren't born with it." Luc states, matter-of-factly. "Not to disparage you or anything, but that's just how it is. Lightfellow didn't have it as bad as I do and he was an old man. It'll mess with you, like it'll mess with any of them. Sasarai and I... well..."

He smiles, again quite bitterly, and continues, "Not a moment's peace, not since we were born, not 'til we die. My first memories are dealing with the Wind Rune, not with any /person/. It's why, even though I can't help but hate him a little, he's also the one person that I can completely understand."

"All of you can choose to walk away, if you really want to. You can tell the rune to bug off, and it'll listen, even though it might not want to. Ted did. You could. We can't."

Luc makes a distinctly sour face, looking down at Sarah, and jabs the rod in her general direction, though not directly at her. "... And quit looking at me like that. I'm not talking about blowing myself up with half the continent. I'm just talking about living forever without a True Rune, like that mad old bastard did. Crowley and Mazus have been around long enough for those dusty old books you were forced to read to have had plenty about them..."

"Did you know their first historically confirmed duel was /before they were born/?" It's hard to tell if Luc is messing with Sarah, here. His spirits are high enough that that tone could just mean anything. If he were /cranky/, he'd definitely be messing with her. As is, it remains a mystery.

He deliberately avoids the question about the lake, expecting Sarah's incredulity regarding what he just said to carry him past it.

Sarah (316) has posed:
Her loyalty might seem foolish, but it stems from more than an ethical debate. She herself was treated as an unfeeling tool for much of her life. That kind of thoughtlessness is one of the few things she'll actually get angry over, whether it's a living and breathing chimera, or a little girl much like herself, locked away and forgotten for fifteen years.

"I'm sorry. I know it sounds foolish. I just have a difficult time treating something alive with such carelessness." Sarah waves a hand, and her smile is hesitant; sardonic. "It isn't as though I haven't been treated the same way, in my time. I still would be, if it hadn't been for your intervention, and if I hadn't begun to frighten my keepers. I'll fashion collars for them, and tell the villagers later that these aren't wild monsters. Perhaps I can paint Mistress Leknaat's sigil on their wings, or something that can be seen easily from the ground."

She tilts her head, faintly, and then frowns. "I have not permitted them to patrol beyond Toran Lake for precisely that reason. I can only assume that some idiot came too close, and they reacted as they have been trained to react. Technically, this person was trespassing; they must have been on the lake's shore. My sympathy for them is limited," she adds, gesturing lazily. The chimera's blood cleanly seprates itself from the water, and another flick of her hand dismisses it to a far corner of the bath house, to be mopped up later.

"I have some insight into Wyatt Lightfellow's life and abilities. No, he was no magician. He sought the help of the Alma Kinan to seal the True Rune for him. How they learned their techniques, I couldn't say. From what True Water remembers, they strike me as almost Sindar, but not quite; elegant, and also foreign." Sarah frowns, thoughtful. "Yes, I think I could seal it, if I needed to. After this long bearing the rune it would likely be unpleasant, but not life-threatening. But I would sooner not. Sealing it away would be the coward's path, at this point; I have borne it this long, and I will bear it for however long I'm meant to."

She shrugs. "Besides. Knowing what I know of the burdens you bear, I am strong enough to bear this." Sarah is far stronger than she lets on or seems, and in many cases, stronger than even she herself thinks she is. If the True Water Rune were going to break her, it would have done so in the first few hours it had latched onto her.

"I only wish I could soothe it," she adds, more quietly. "I hate to see you like that, Luc. That is harder for me to bear than anything the True Water Rune can do to me, or the worst vision of Annu's ghosts." She shakes her head, reaching up and wringing out her hair. "Knowing that there isn't a thing I can do to help you, at its worst; /that/ is what hurts me."

"The only thing I can do is to be there for you, and sometimes that seems like so damnably little, to me."

Sarah (316) has posed:
When he pulls a sour face, she tilts her head a little, watching him as though in confusion, eyes tracking the rod as it jabs in her general direction. "What? I don't know what you're thinking if you don't tell me," Sarah replies, sweetly. "Oh, I read about them. I wasn't sure if any of that was true. You know how authors can exaggerate things, some...times..."

Sarah trails off when Luc explains when the duel started. In fact, that's just the problem. She heard him clearly and she's dead sure there wasn't any water in her ear. She'd know that on an instinctual level. So why did that thing he just said still make no sense?

Did he just start speaking in Sindar or something, maybe? Botched grammar?

She reaches up and smacks the side of her head anyway, just in case she missed any errant water in her ear. You never know. He's not usually in the business of talking nonsense.

"Uh," Sarah finally says, staring at him like he's just grown a third eye in his forehead. It's probably the most bewildered, confused, and hopelessly flabbergasted expression he's ever seen her wear.

"What?"

Luc (237) has posed:
Luc gives a little shrug in regards to the chimerae. He says, "It's not that I particularly /want/ them hunted, but that isn't going to stop them from being hunted, and I don't particularly blame the people who are like to do it. Chimera are dangerous enough beasts to attract attention, and the warriors of this land are strong enough from recent conflicts to have some confidence in attempting to tackle them. though they're not likely to have been men from the Warrior's Village, come to think of it."

He mimes a slashing gesture, "/They/ all use swords. Name them after whatever's most important to them. Usually ends up being a woman, actually. Flik's was named after Odessa Silverberg. Point is, it's a hazard of summoning things around here. It's alright to feel bad about it, but you're going to be angry an awful lot of the time if you stress too much about it."

"Anyway, it should be fine with Leknaat's sigil. Even the bandits around here know and respect that." He smiles faintly, at that. "Of course, they mostly associate it with /me/... Lady Leknaat didn't make her home very accessible. You had to have magic, or assistance from the Dragon Knights to get in."

"That's how I met Futch. We didn't get along."

"Now," He leans forward, "when you say you have them patrolling Toran /Lake/, do you mean the borders of our island or the lake itself? This is fishing and shipping central around here, and while most ships don't come this far south since they're bound for Gregminster, we really don't need to be harassing people anywhere on the entire lake."

Luc flicks his index finger towards the wall, though he really has no idea where he's pointing, "Kaku is right next to us, there's an old pirate shack a little ways to the west... not that I mind spooking /those/ meatheads... point is, make sure they keep to our island. I can see a few of those ruffians taking some shots at them for shits and giggles."

"Even /with/ that gambler buddy of theirs trying to call them over, we had to flog them half to death to get them to join the army. I'm still convinced half of them were illiterate." He carries on with his tangent, aimlessly.

Luc gives a quizzical little look to Sarah when she mentions sealing up the Rune not being life-threatening. He prods her in the forehead teasingly, "You can seal up most of its power without losing your immortality, but you're not /near/ old enough to be worrying about that yet. You're, what, five years younger than me? Thirty at most? Tiny when I found you tho'. Lady Leknaat taught me the binding and unbinding technique, so there's no need to improvise it for either of us."

With regards to the Alma Kinan, Luc leans back away from Sarah and lies back, crossing his hands behind his head. "Wellll," he says, "the Grasslanders had plenty of time to dig through the Sindar ruins in their area, and they had an apprentice of Crowley living in the vicinity to boot. Small wonder that a bunch of religious fanatics who sacrifice virgins would have a /few/ magical secrets up their sleeve."

Luc's head gives a bit of a twitch to the side, so he can see Sarah properly even in this slightly awkard position. He offers her a much nastier smile, more reminiscent of his depressed state than his present one. He answers, "Sounds to me like you're coping with that thing just to see how to help me deal with mine. How very scientific of you. Self-experimentation really isn't a good idea, you know."

As to the matter of Crowley: "Big duel. Made a desert. Happened before either of them were born. I suspect something to do with a Blinking Rune, I'm acquainted with a young lady who seems to jump primarily between important events, whose age is mildly inconsistent with her apparent chronology, so something similar probably occurred there."

Sarah (316) has posed:
"For precisely that reason, I don't allow them to range beyond the borders of the lake itself." Sarah ducks under the water again, slicking her hair back once she resurfaces, and eyeing him pointedly with those colourless eyes. "This fool was in /our/ territory, or I might be more sympathetic to the villagers. He came looking for trouble, and I suppose he found it."

"I don't intend to obsess over it every waking moment," she points out wryly. "I'll get over it. But thank you for your concern." With that, she lets the matter drop. If the outsiders leave the place alone, she'll be content with that. A collar emblazoned with the sigil of the Blind Astrologist should be deterrent enough. "I suppose I could release these back to the World of Emptiness and summon something more practical. A water spirit."

That would be beneficial; it would give her more direct control over the creature, too.

Sarah eyes the wind mage when he says he didn't get along with Futch, something approaching mirth in her eyes. There's a very long list of people that Luc doesn't get along with.

Lounging back in the water, she tilts her head back, resting it against the edge of the bath's basin and closing her eyes. "Mmmm. Kaku is a good town. There are some skilled craftsmen there. I should learn from the tailors; they know a number of excellent patterns for garments quite like your robe, and I find those are more comfortable in Toran's summers."

This isn't the extreme far north of the world, after all, where it's icebound for most of the year. Crystal Valley sees a lot of snow, and its summers are relatively mild.

"Collars it is, for the time being. Perhaps I can enchant them, or have them enchanted, to blazon that device as an illusion in a way that no one could possibly hope to miss it. Illusory caparisons. I can only imagine training a creature like that to wear an actual caparison." It'd be tatters by the end of the hour. "I'll figure something out."

She looks over as he leans back, arching a brow. "Thirty-two," she clarifies, in a tone of quiet amusement. "Not so much as you think. I was taken to the One Temple at the age of six. I was twenty-one when you came to the One Temple, and I had been there for fifteen years, give or take, and I was eager to leave it behind me."

"Scientific?" Sarah sits up, frowning a little. "I was hoping you might think a little better of me, knowing the lengths I'd go to for your sake, but if that's what you think it is..." She trails off, shrugging, tone a bit stung. "If you really have to know, I'm coping with this 'thing' because I have to cope with it, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to take away something useful from it. I suppose it doesn't matter. It is what it is, like so many other things."

The explanation of Crowley earns another arch of the brow. "I want to say that I met that young lady in one of the battles you didn't participate in, in the multiverse. Shortly before Luca Blight took to the field, or perhaps it was shortly after. I don't recall clearly, now." She thinks for a moment. "I suppose that's not out of the realm of possibility, if she has a rune of a purview similar to Lady Leknaat's."

Luc (237) has posed:
"I do not believe that the World of Emptiness is a better option to simply collaring and marking them properly. Let them remain here. If they need to come indoors to keep them safe, I'm alright with that too. It isn't like somebody is liable to be a threat from the borders of the lake to start with." Luc wonders whether or not the chimerae are more likely to act like cats, or goats, or birds? The central head is a /lion/, so it must be primarily feline, but it also has a snake for a tail and goats sure are kind of dicks. He waves a hand dismissively, "Between the two of us we could surround this tower in a great cyclone of wind and water, and bar entry by teleportation."

"Frankly, I think we'd have to piss off about a hundred and four people to be seriously endangered."He opines, eyes drifting back to Sarah and that look she gives him about Futch. Luc shrugs helplessly, "He and I are too much alike, and it was even more true back then. Young men with a great deal of power and confidence and cockiness with an inclination to mess with each other and anyone else."

"He had a /dragon/, so he was a little worse than me outwardly, I think."

"'til it died." He adds, off-handedly.

"Aren't you /already/ a passable tailor? And something illusory would probably work best, yes." Luc gazes up at the ceiling, jabbing his rod in that direction. "I've seen what cats do when you try to leash or harness them, /that/ thing won't act any different. Probably worse, since it's a quarter goat. Might /eat/ it..."

He sets his rod aside, shucking off his shirt and considering the rest of his clothes. The bath is looking awfully nice. Luc tosses his head in answer to Sarah's frowning, and assessment of the Water Rune situation. "No, I was half-joking. It's very like you to take something and study it in depth if it is of interest to you. I think it entirely in your character to bear a True Rune, especially that one, for /my/ sake. Is that truly an insult or belittlement? As you say, you're willing to do quite a lot for me."

"In this particular case," He taps his own forehead for a moment, rising for a second to shuck off the rest of his clothing before easing into the water, "I wouldn't mind if you didn't. I think you'd be happier without it. But I understand why you wouldn't try to rid yourself of it, regardless of the reason."

Luc snorts when it comes to Viki, floating on his back in the bath and just sort of drifting along next to Sarah. He replies, "Short girl, twelve to twenty nine, long black hair, kind of clueless-looking? White robes, usually, and a great big fancy staff. Strangely, her Rune has no relation to the Gate Rune at all that I know of. I don't know /where/ it comes from. It can teleport friend or foe, it can summon debris, but it doesn't summon anything from the World of Nothingness and it doesn't banish them there."

"Were there a Rune of Space," He says, "I'd think it was attached to that one."

Luc pushes a little bit of water in Sarah's direction, playfully. "Think a little better of you," He mutters, though it's perfectly audible at this distance, "as if I could think any better of you at all. My opinion of you is as high as my opinion goes for anybody. Only other person who could compete is Lady Leknaat, and not in the same way."

Luc shuts an eye, turning his limited gaze to the ceiling. He says, "Both of you dragged me out of one prison, or the next. And put up with everything that goes with living with me at all. I'm not blind to that, though sometimes it seems that way."

Sarah (316) has posed:
"There are plenty of unused chambers." Sarah waves a hand somewhat dismissively in response to the chimerae. "I will prepare one of them for the creatures. They will continue to guard; their senses are sharp enough. Sharper than mine, by far." When you have three heads, you're bound to notice plenty of things. She muses on his mention of wind and water. "Hmm. Yes, we could do that. It might draw undue attention, though, and something so vast would require a certain degree of upkeep over time."

A glorified waterspout would make entry pretty difficult for anybody that wasn't either of them, though one could still get in from above. She considers for a few minutes, folding her arms. "I suppose, in the event of a last-ditch effort to keep somebody or a number of 'somebodies' out, that would be efficient."

Realistically, if it came to that they would probably just /smite/ the offending party with wind and water.

She snorts a quiet laugh when he mentions Futch being worse because of having a dragon until its death. That all depends on how well-behaved the dragon is, of course, or the dragon's master.

Part of her is glad the Dragon Knights don't really bother them here. It's one thing to duck the attention of a few backwater villages, but a fully-equipped cavalry of dragon riders and their True Rune-wielding leadership is another matter entirely. Not that they would have any undue reason to hassle the two Runebearers, but... two True Runes in one vicinity is usually enough to attract anybody's attention.

Privately, she's surprised she's mnaged to avoid Harmonia's attentions for so long. They're nothing if not determined in thier hunt for the True Runes.

"Passable." Sarah's agreement on her tailoring is lukewarm at best. "But I am hardly a journeyman in terms of skill. I know the basic skills needed to keep you in your clothing--" Here she jabs a finger in his direction, "--but that's about the limit of my abilities. I could stand to learn a few more things. It would save us some potch in the long run, I suppose, and I always enjoy learning something new."

It keeps her sane, mostly.

She glances up as he tosses aside his own clothing and slides into the water. Hopefully he won't mind it borderline scalding. It's nice, in a way. It soothes the muscles, if one can get over the initial shock of how hot it is.

"Maybe." She seems mollified on his observation about her nature and True Runes, although she shrugs. "Would I be happier without it? No; ultimately, I don't think I would. Perhaps I wouldn't suffer the symptoms. I know you would, though, and I know there would be no such relief for you. So no, ridding myself of it would accomplish nothing." She lifts her right hand, eyeing the mark on the back of her right hand speculatively. "In any case, I consider it a valuable defense; if we ever /should/ attract the untoward attention of other Elites, this puts me on a much more level footing when it comes to personal defense. True, the Flowing Rune is stronger than other instances of itself, in my hands; I was born with it. But it is a pale substitute at best for True Water."

Hmmm. That description sounds vaguely familiar, but Sarah only shakes her head. "She sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't say whether I saw her or not." She reaches out and prods at Luc with a forefinger, setting him to drifting. "It's interesting that it isn't a descendant of either half of the Gate Rune, though. I'd be curious to find out what it actually is. With that kind of versatility, I would imagine it must be some manner of True Rune."

She glances down as a the water ripples, pushed by his hand; a thought and a glimmer of power sets it to quieting down more or less immediately. Instead, she smiles, though it's a subdued sort of smile.

Leaning over him, she presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, even as he starts drifting away a little bit. "You're welcome, love."

Luc (237) has posed:
"Of course," Luc muses aloud concerning the possibilities of tower defense, "the /easiest/ thing to do would just be to /leave/. It's not like anybody could actually stop us from doing that." A couple of teleporting monster-summons, one of whom is capable of more than convincing illusions. He crosses his arms over his chest, shutting his eyes entirely and drifting through the water in distant haze. Warm, and comfortable.

At Sarah's laugh, he answers plainly, "It's not /really/ a joke. Having a dragon goes to your head mighty quickly, not unlike having a great deal of magical power at our fingertips. They tried to put us together to work in concert a couple of times, but we usually ended up beating each other up as much as the enemy. Well, slightly less, we were better at killing them than killing each other."

"He had to fetch a plant from Gregminster's gardens, and was caught in his exit by Lady Windy. She killed that dragon mid-flight. Futch survived, but the dragon roasted. Lightning, you see." He explains, moving his hands slightly as he does. Afterwards he adds, "Eventually managed to dig up a wild one that would listen to him, and re-entered the knighthood. We fought him, you know. Big fellow, white dragon."

"Little apprentice girl with overgrown teeth." Luc clicks his teeth by way of demonstration.

"The Dragon Rune is rather kinder than ours. I know of no drawback that it confers offhand, and their last commander was friendly with Lady Leknaat. Indeed, it was he who used the power of his rune to aid Leknaat in overpowering Lady Windy's half of the gate rune. Banished her army right off of the battlefield and sent Yuber scrabbling the hell out of the war." He cracks an eye. "Sound familiar? But, as to the Water Rune, if you say so."

On the topic of the Blinking Rune, the Wind Mage shrugs, drifting along from Sarah's poke.

"Rune of Change, perhaps? She pitches hither and yon with no particular direction to speak of, and doesn't seem to be able to stop. Always turns up at momentous eras, then vanishes in a puff of logic... I don't know, though. Her presence isn't all that much..." Luc doesn't seem terribly excited by the idea, but it might be something. In answer to the kiss, though, the Wind Mage just smiles a distinctly non-murderous smile.

Sarah (316) has posed:
"Leaving would of course be the easiest option." Sarah leans her head back and closes her eyes, inhaling steam and letting herself drift in the heated water. "It would come down to principles at that point. I wouldn't like to leave something as easily-defended as Toran Castle, and besides which, wherever we wound up wouldn't have half as nice a bath house as this."

She's obviously joking with the last part; her half-smile suggests as much, although it fades a moment later. "More seriously, I wouldn't like to give this up lightly. It's the closest thing to a home I've ever had. I'm disinclined to let someone take it just because they've decided to be bothersome."

It's pretty unlikely, though. Not very many people waste their time on such a remote location, and the stories flying around about its inhabitants means that most of the time, people leave the old castle on the lake alone.

Just the way Sarah likes it.

"Lady Windy killed a dragon in mid-flight?" Sarah feels her brows arch, cracking an eye open and eyeing Luc, visibly impressed. "That's impressive, and also a little worrisome. I suppose if she has the other half of the Gate Rune, that might explain it, but that's a tremendous amount of power, even so."

Then again, this is Leknaat's sister. Sarah expects Leknaat could easily do something like that if she really had half a mind to.

Big fellow, Luc adds, then. White dragon. "I remember. Dimly. I had an imprecise idea of the forces that had marched on the Ceremonial Site, but I remember a dragon, and I remember the insect cavalry." Sarah allows herself a somewhat self-indulgent shudder. "Ugh."

"I also remember Grasslanders and a Zexen army. I had already bled myself dry sustaining our own forces by that point." She lets her eyes close again, going back to drifting. "I think I was barely functioning; I don't remember much of it. It's hard to misremember a dragon, though."

Sarah drifts in silence for a moment, glancing over as Luc demonstrates Viki's teeth and description. Hmm.

"Mmm. I may have seen her during the battles against Luca Blight, but if I did, I have no memory of her." She was rather distracted with things like 'trying not to get herself murdered by a crazy person with a big sword.' "No, I haven't found any drawbacks to the Dragon Rune in my research. There isn't much information available on it, though. I suppose it's one of those runes that you simply need to involve yourself with to understand. It doesn't particularly matter."

She makes a vague, and vaguely aggravated, noise at the mention of Yuber. She hasn't forgotten how much she intensely dislikes that whatever-he-is, and she only worked with Yuber because Luc needed his help.

To the matter of the Rune of Change, she shrugs, water rippling around her. "Perhaps. The Rune of Change once belonged to the leadership of the Sindar, from what I've been able to find in my research. There's no telling where it may have ended up after they faded away, and it would make sense if it were in the hands of that young lady, if she can do what you say she does. I can't think of any other runes that would have that kind of potency."

The water mage studies the wind mage thoughtfully for a moment, turning and letting herself drift closer to him. He looks comfortable, drifting like one would do in a pool -- which it really is big enough to be, when it comes down to it.

"I think we still have a bottle of the last wine I'd found while we were travelling," Sarah breathes into his ear, prodding at the wind mage's shoulder and smiling thinly. "Something fruity and sweet, just as you prefer it. I have half a mind to drink too much of that and see where the evening goes. What do you say?"

Luc (237) has posed:
"North Window. The standard contingent of fortress-builders used during the Dunan Unification War was near identical to the one used here, so it has a fantastic bath house too. As it happens there are men in this world who thrive on nothing so much as constructing the most ridiculous baths they are capable of mustering." Luc retorts, /entirely/ seriously. He shakes his head a little to get some water out of his ears and adds, "Only difference between this place and that one is that North Window is still populated."

"Many of the Stars of Destiny departed from that place, however. I do not doubt that its population is much reduced."

With regards to Windy's potency, Luc nods. He goes on to say, "Lady Windy was more powerful than Lady Leknaat in terms of practical ability to brutalize, kill, and compromise. The creation of artificial runes, the casual destruction of powerful magical beings, and so on and so forth. I would say she falls short of where I am at this point in my career, but she was quite strong."

"Less than clever, however. She wished to possess both her half of the Gate Rune and the Soul Eater Rune." Luc says this with some measure of disgust in his tone. He thinks highly of the current bearer of the Rune of Life and Death, so that surely has something to do with it. "Fortunately, she's dead now. Tried to mind control a man with the Sovereign Rune in his possession. Didn't end well."

"Grabbed her and jumped off the building with her. Never found the bodies, though," He meanders, "so I suppose they could be out there. More likely that some loyalists stole away with them, though."

Luc snorts at Sarah's aggravation surrounding Yuber. "You may as well get angry at the weather, for as much good as it will do you. But as the Rune of Change goes, I actually don't know if she has something quite so potent. Simply something descended. The pattern fits, in that she never remains in one place or -- seemingly -- time for long. Useful, but obnoxious."

The Wind Mage makes a distinctly torn noise in answer to Sarah's breathy whisper and suggestion. He nods his assent and says, "Surely you could have said so /before/ I climbed in. Or had you just not thought of it? At any rate, neither of us play games of chance, so I hardly think there's much mystery to be had in what you have in mind."

Luc stops drifting to straighten up, gesturing towards the steps leading up out of the bath. Not that it's much of a climb to start with, but it is a bit slippery. He heads that way, immediately beginning to blow-dry himself with a frankly obnoxious and loud persistent wind.

Sarah (316) has posed:
While it's true that North Window might have all of the features Sarah has come to enjoy in their current residence, it means dealing with people. Not having to deal with people is one of the top reasons Sarah's come to enjoy Toran Castle.

Sarah straightens up, glancing at the wind mage as he explains the story of Windy and her eventual end. The fact that a body was never found is a little suspicious, but not suspicious enough to pique her interest. He's probably right about that. Loyalists might well have spirited them away.

It doesn't really matter, in the end; it has no bearing on the water mage or her companion in the present day.

"I'm not really angry at Yuber," Sarah points out. "I just found him to be a disagreeable, deplorable, and disgusting creature; that's all."

There's a difference between being angry at something, and simply finding it repulsive on every conscious level. She's not really sure she could help recoiling at the creature. There's something about Yuber that just has that winning charm.

...Honestly, there wasn't a time in the Grasslands that the two weren't bristling at one another. Sarah did what Luc asked of her, but it wasn't without her fair share of quiet, pointed sniping at the Eightfold Rune's master, and Yuber didn't do things without getting in his own quality burns. There's simply no way there could be any respect on either side of that fence... and as long as they had a goal to distract them, they could be counted on not to try and kill each other.

"I hadn't particularly thought of it," Sarah points out, stepping out of the basin. She has no need of a Wind Rune to dry herself; all she has to do is just /dismiss/ the water. Banishing water is not too different from summoning it, and her control is masterful enough that such a thing is trivial. She smiles a thin little half-smile at his observation. "I suppose not, but it sounded a little more interesting that way, didn't it?"

She stoops, settling for throwing the undermost layer of her dress over her head and stepping into her boots. It's still not quite summer, and the hallways are cool. The rest of the dress she folds over an arm; her staff she had teleported into their quarters.

"I'll see to the wine," she adds, and with another wash of cool mist, the pale woman is gone.

Thanks to their bond, he'll know exactly where she's gone. Specifically, she's gone several storeys straight up, where she's laid out her clothing and set to pouring two generous glasses of wine. Fruit wine, of some sort. It even smells sweet. She's perched on the corner of the bed by the time he follows, cradling her glass in her hands, looking a little more relaxed than she had been earlier.

Also considerably less covered in blood. Definitely less bloody.

Luc (237) has posed:
"That's alright. I'm fairly certain Yuber isn't actually a person anyway." Luc dismisses the agency of another living being casually, while re-dressing. He explains, "I think that he must be a creature of the World of Nothingness that somehow gained a greater deal of power than most possess. He is summoned, does not appear naturally, and does not ordinarily linger here indefinitely. A mysterious man in similar armor to the type that Yuber prefers also tends to follow him around, trying busily to murder him."

"A man called Pesmerga." He adds, plainly. "Haven't seen him since L'Renouille. My L'Renouille, not your L'Renouille. I wonder if he's the bearer of a True Rune himself, actually. I'm sure you'll recall how vicious Yuber was for as long as he'd stick around in a real fight. Pesmerga could match Yuber blow for blow and overwhelm him."

"That's no small thing, cowardly though Yuber is."

With regards to Sarah's /delivery/, Luc shrugs and nods. "Yes," he says, "I suppose that it was, otherwise I would just be taking a nap in the bath. I'm told that's not really a good idea, but I don't think it's a problem between the two of us."

Then, Sarah is gone.

Luc kicks his rod up from the side of the bath, snatches it up one-handed, and disappears in a gust of wind. When he arrives back in their quarters, Sarah is already there. He tosses the rod aside, mutters a passphrase to seal the castle's wards, and then seats himself next to her.

Luc leans against Sarah, taking up /his/ glass of wine, and drinks half of it in one go. This is not really a fantastic idea, but this spirited, mischevious version of the Wind Mage doesn't seem to give two shakes about it. He nudges at Sarah's side with his elbow as he lowers the glass from his lips.

"You didn't like the idea of going the way of Crowley, earlier. Slapping a hundred runes on my body and seeing if it'll keep me together. Why not?" He asks, tilting his head to rest it again hers. "I can go without for a little while, you know. A month or so, I'd say."

Sarah (316) has posed:
The water mage is fairly certain that Yuber isn't a person either. She doesn't have the same kind of first-hand observation that Luc does, but campaigning with him in the Grasslands did afford her a certain level of perception. He certainly fit with the criteria that Luc sets forth, on all counts.

Curiously, she was never given the opportunity to see Pesmerga. If he were so bound to Yuber's face, and so determined in hunting Yuber down, it seems curious that he had never come to the Grasslands after his quarry. Strange.

"Napping in the bathtub," Sarah pronounces solemnly, "is usually a good way to drown. Of course, that excludes the possibility of the bather, or sleeper, having a True Rune allied with wind or water attached to them. I doubt that I would drown, simply because I refuse to bathe if I feel so inclined to sleep; I doubt that True Water would /allow/ me to drown, but neither would I want to test that theory. I've died twice. I'd really rather not have my third time be the result of carelessness on my part."

It would be like a champion swimmer drowning to death, or a race car driver dying in an automobile accident. Cosmic irony. Sarah is not a fan of cosmic irony, because it usually winds up being at either hers or Luc's expense whenever it strikes.

She leans into him when he leans against her, in part because it's comfortable, and in part so he doesn't bowl her over. Sarah is probably among the most physically fragile people to bear True Runes; her strength of will can startle even her, but there's no getting around that her body is particularly weak. Maybe it's genetics, or maybe she was more of a sickly child than she lets on. Whatever the case is, Luc is solid enough to knock her over if she doesn't brace herself somehow, and Luc is hardly the height of overwhelming physical strength.

Sarah tilts her head faintly when she's nudged in the side with an elbow, twitching slightly; when he rests his head against hers, she leans on him, comfortably.

"It's a little hard to explain. True Runes are disgreeable in the company of their opposites. Ordinary runes don't have that level of presence or force, but if one starts putting that many of them together, I imagine that would still be tempting fate somehow." Sarah gestures nebulously around her wine glass, helping herself to more than she should probably be drinking at once. It's not half bad, either. There's a nice sweetness to it, without being overpoweringly sweet.

"Borrowed time," Sarah says, on the matter of the True Wind Rune. "You wouldn't survive without it, and I doubt that replacing True Wind with a hundred lesser runes would work. It's too entangled with you; besides which, Crowley wasn't working under that handicap. There's no telling if those hundred runes would sustain you. I doubt they would. It's too tangled with you on every level."

Sarah (316) has posed:
She swills her wine in her glass, taking a drink before continuing. "I wish there were a way to rid you of it, knowing what it does to you, but I don't think that there is." She frowns at the wine in the bottom of her glass. "It's a part of you, whether you like it or not. I suppose there's a lesson to be learned, there, but we're stubborn people, you and I..."

"Never mind that True Runes grow restive in the company of their opposites. I imagine when you have /enough/ of their lesser kindred in one place," she continues, "one begins tempting fate. As I am now," she muses, distracted, "I imagine I couldn't stand to be in the same room as Geddoe."

Ewww. Lightning.

"Troubles for another day, though. You appear to be alright, for the time being, and who knows? Perhaps you'll hit on a way to live with it. I think that's what it wants, or surely it would have left you for another Runebearer, entanglement be damned," she adds, draining her glass. "The Beast Rune is proof enough that if they have half a mind to go somewhere, they will /go/."

Sarah pauses, draining her glass and setting it aside, and smiling a nasty little smile. "I wish I could have seen the looks on the faces of the Bishops at the time. That must have been a nasty little shock. Never mind where it actually went."

Why, no, Sarah doesn't happen to enjoy digging at Harmonia every opportunity she gets. Whatever might give that impression?

Luc (237) has posed:
"True Runes /do/ tend to take offense at their bearers guttering out like windswept torches," Luc remarks, lifting his hand, "but in my particular case I'm reasonably confident that I could oxygenate myself even if I were underwater. And as for you, well, you drowning would just be /ridiculous/. Even if you didn't have that damned thing clinging to your hand, I'm fairly certain you could work something out. Haven't you frozen yourself solid before as a defense against attack?" He lifts his eyebrows at Sarah, inquisitively.

With regards to the Hundred Runes ideas, the Wind Mage nods along. He gulps down the last of his wine, sets the glass aside, and taps lightly at Sarah's chin with a finger. "So to be clear, you believe that my body is too integrated with the True Wind Rune to be able to compensate even with an arbitrary quantity of /regular/ Runes to do the same job, even if that is technically possible for an ordinary person of sufficient magical strength."

"Why, I do believe that's a challenge."

"What was it you said earlier?" Luc asks, entirely rhetorically because he goes on to explain, "My moods having a little to do with the fact that I don't really have any opposition. Well, there you have it. Time to start collecting runes so I can half kill myself seeing if I can avoid killing myself without the True Wind Rune."

"That seems suitably monumental, near-impossible to achieve, and therefore a massive obstacle that I can't wave my hand at and blow up."

Look what you've started, Sarah. Look at it.

As to the matter of True Runes getting ornery at their opposites, he gives Sarah an odd little look and shakes his head, "I'm not stupid enough to attach a bunch of Earth Runes to my body. And even if I was stupid enough to do that, I wouldn't. /Because/..."

"Because I don't want to turn into a passive little shit like Sasarai, that's why." Luc concludes, deadly seriously for all his mirthful tone, "No, gate runes and wind runes all the way down for me. Think I'll avoid water runes, wouldn't mind some fire runes..."

"... Well, now, you'd be surprised at what Runes will do." Luc remarks, raising the True Wind Rune to eye height. "They're about as irrational as people. Maybe the Rune itself is suicidal. That would explain why it never tried to flee me in the Grasslands, even though we got very, very close."

"Or, it might just be a contrarian ass who sticks around for giggles. Sometimes I wish it would talk, but I've met the Night Rune and it's really /so/ much worse than this thing." He leans more heavily on Sarah now, draping an arm around her. "Did you know it routinely pitches people backwards in time? That's how it deals with annoyances, you see."

"And you should just ask Sasarai about the Beast Rune, /he/ had to clean that mess up." Luc concludes his meandering by veering off into Sarah's own tangent.

Sarah (316) has posed:
"They do, which is why they tend to select people of a certain strength, or strength of character." Sarah makes an amused sound. Once upon a time she might have thought of herself as weak, but that was never really the case. Her strength was merely hidden; so well hidden that she herself didn't know it was there until she had need of it. "It would be ridiculous for me to drown, but not because of the True Water Rune; it would be because I am careful enough not to put myself into danger like that."

She leans against him. "Yes," she agrees, unconcerned, as though it's perfectly normal for someone to set themselves on ice as a defensive measure. "But it isn't something I would do unless I were desperate. It was unpleasant. Extremely unpleasant."

"Yes," she adds, in response to his paraphrasing. She raises her brows in turn at the tap to her chin, one of them arching slightly. "Even if you had an arbitrary quantity of lesser runes, a True Rune is still exponentially more powerful than its lesser offspring. They still would not be equal to the task. And with as heavily as your body depends on True Wind, I think that your body would still fail, even if you inscribed as many runes a you physically could."

She opens her mouth to argue when he says he believes that's a challenge, and then before she has the chance to actually argue, Luc is off and away with a new tangent.

When he's finished with his Challenge Accepted speech, all Sarah can really manage is a despairing little sound. That's not exactly what she had in mind. He's going to do what he's going to do, though, and one supposes it's slightly more productive than blowing up half a continent to destroy the True Rune. Could be worse. Could be dead again. Again.

"No Water Runes? Hm. It isn't as though they'll be hard to come by, and wind and water complement one another," she adds, absently pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. "Although I suppose that may be as much a product of our getting along as it is the True Runes themselves coexisting and behaving themselves."

One shoulder rises and falls in a shrug, although she pulls a face at his comment on the Night Rune's acting out. "I don't disbelieve it. That's terrible. I suppose if they could talk, though, that wouldn't necessarily be a beneficial thing to their bearers. They'd simply drive us mad in other, more conventional ways."

When he drapes an arm around her, she leans on him, pressing a kiss to the arm around her shoulder. "Mm. I'd rather not. I don't have quite the level of vitriol for him that you do, but I still prefer not to deal with him. Or any of the Harmonian Bishops," she adds. "They still see the Sindar witch when they look at me, you know, and that's going to colour anything they have to say to me, or I to them. I prefer to keep my dealings with them as short as possible, and to stay as invisible to them as possible." Lifting her head, eyes hooded, she projects a momentary air of regality; cold and scornful. "They are beneath my notice."

Sarah (316) has posed:
Once upon a time, she would have cowered before the hypothetical Bishops, but now, she has the strength of character to scoff at them. Luc may be a terrible influence in some regards -- but he's certainly done something right for her in others, that she has the strength of character to scoff at them now.

"In any case," she muses, "I believe it senses an ally in you, or it would have abandoned you long ago. I think it may be that it simply can't help what damage it does to you..." She's starting to slur just a little, which is probably cute as a button given how composed and careful she usually is. "I might've had a dream about that, once... something... something like that. But I can't remember it now. Not important," she adds. "I'll think of it later."

"Think I'm having trouble thinking," Sarah adds, slurring a bit more, resting her face against the side of his neck. The world is pleasantly fuzzy around the edges. She knows she's had entirely too much wine, or at least entirely too much wine for her own limitations. Eyes hooding, she rests her hand along the side of his face, indulging in a lingering kiss.

By the time she pulls away, she manages a warm smile; the kind of pretty expression she almost never wears, and the kind only ever reserved for the wind mage alone. "But that's the beauty of it, too. Hm?"

Luc (237) has posed:
"Well /actually/," Luc says, regarding True Runes, "it depends on the particular one that we're speaking of. The Elemental Runes we bear are not particularly picky and will accept any bearer who comes and unseals them. They're also oddly cooperative with /being/ sealed. I've often wondered why that might be, but I don't really have anything to go on there, except to say that every single one of them has been bound in the Grasslands and then picked up by some bumpkin at some point."

"The exceptions, of course, being Sasarai and mine. /Yours/ relocated itself to be found, but even that is not particularly proactive relative to others. Meanwhile the Soul Eater languished upon the hand of a young man who really just wanted to be rid of it, and obeyed completely when it was ordered to vacate."

"McDohl wasn't even chosen by it, just chosen by its previous bearer. Who had it forced upon him to escape Windy while the previous bearer died to stall her." He concludes.

With regards to the 100 Runes theory, Luc shrugs indifferently. "It would still be fun to /try/, however, notwithstanding the illness I would most likely experience between attempting it and returning the Wind Rune to its rightful place. But you may be surprised at the power of an arbitrary number of Runes concentrated in a single place. You have met Luca Blight, who is the peak of absolutely ordinary. He is neither Star nor Runebearer, though he has a flame rune affixed to that great bloody sword of his."

"Much more is possible through ordinary means than people often give credit for, though I will grant you," He shakes his Rune hand, "that it is much easier to bring down all the wind in the world this way than to summon all the monsters in the world with this." Luc jerks a thumb towards his back.

"And no, no Water Runes. Not because I don't want any, but because I am concerned with the fact that I am in direct proximity with you /very/ often and I am uncertain what a giant mass of Water Runes would do with the True Water Rune close by." He takes her rune hand in his own, drawing it up into what dim light is available. "I /would/ be interested to know if we could induce Rune generation using our standing Runes, though."

Luc skips over the topic of the Night Rune, moving on to the matter of Sasarai. He traces the shadow of the True Water Rune on her hand as he replies, "I would prefer if you did not think of Sasarai in that way. I... do not hate him. Well, yes, I do. But it's complicated, and what he is is no more his fault than what I am is mine. It would take very little tweaking for our situations to be reversed."

"And I doubt very much that he sees that in you. Certainly, he did not see me as /garbage/, though he was encouraged to do so. I hate him, but my hate is a very /personal/... thing... that I do not think you should adopt."

"For that matter, I--"

Sarah doesn't actually let Luc keep rambling here. She draws him into a long, lingering kiss, into which he leans, shutting his eyes. It is Sarah who pulls away, a moment later, and Luc gives her the distinct look of a cat that has stopped being pet before it was good and done and quite annoyed by it.

But she smiles at him, and he smiles at her in turn, previous conversations forgotten. It's just as well, since none of this is something he'd like to associate with his brother of all people. That would be /horrible/.

Sarah (316) has posed:
"I imagine if they seriously had a problem with being sealed, they wouldn't remain passive," Sarah muses, voice distant as she runs down the hypothesis. "Perhaps they know that stamping out all trace of them is almost impossible. Even if True Water were sealed, the tide would still turn, and rain would still fall."

It merits more study, although there's a limit to how much one can study, when the object of their study is attached to their soul. She shrugs and apparently dismisses the matter. Who are they to understand the vagaries of True Runes, when they can't even communicate?

"Maybe." Sarah still sounds a little dubious about the Hundred Runes Theory, eyeing him skeptically. It would take a few dozen to see if there were any effect to inscribing one after another like that. To the matter of the Water Runes, she snorts. "Really? Do you have so little faith in my ability to control True Water?" she asks, almost playfully, but the brief smile she flashes says she understands. "No. I understand. I would do the same in your position, I think. While I am confident in my ability to control it, but in the event that my control /slipped/, better not to tempt fate."

"If you fall ill, it goes without saying that I'll tend to you." Sarah offers a gentler smile. "I suppose I wouldn't need to tell you that, anyway." She looks down as he takes her hand, loosely curling her fingers around his. "Maybe. I've never looked into that, actually. I'd be interested to know that, too." Leaning down, she presses her lips to his knuckles, fine hair brushing his wrist as she straightens. "Considering they replicate by themselves, I wonder what would happen if we tried to take a more active hand in it."

She makes a dubious sound, in regards to Sasarai. "I don't hate him," she offers, simply. "I simply prefer to avoid dealing with him; not because he's your brother, but because he's a Bishop. I don't like dealing with any Bishops. They've caused enough trouble for me in my life, and I rather prefer not to give them opportunity to cause more." She looks thoughtful for a moment, resting her head against his, eyes half-closing. "Perhaps I was born there, but this is more a home to me than Harmonia ever was, or will be."

She grins at his indignant feline look, fingers idly tracing a pattern up one of his arms, leaning closer. "Come, now," she breathes into his ear. "You look much nicer when you smile like that. I see it so rarely. Alright, Luc; we'll travel again, for a little while. We'll seek out runes, if that's what you want."

"Runes, and good wine, and interesting new places. If that makes you happy, or even content, then it will be worth it to me." Sarah pauses, to press another of those lingering kisses, this time long enough that he might not give her that Annoyed Cat look; enough that she's winded when she pulls away. She smiles that smile, though, that pretty expression. It's pretty precisely because it's rare in its lack of restraint. "I love you, Luc. I'll do anything for you. I know you know that, but I still want to say it."

It might be the wine talking, but there's no questioning the lengths she'll go for him -- likely the only involvement of the wine is her working up the courage to speak so plainly at all.

Luc (237) has posed:
"More likely I think that they are passive by default. But as for the rest of that, I don't think the Runes are actually /required/ for those processes to continue." Luc raises a hand, pushing some power into his Rune to perform a simple trick of magic. Not an illusion, exactly, just a sort of... mid-air drawing. A parlor trick, or cantrip. He makes a crude likeness of the True Wind Rune in the air, and then a small arrow pointing downwards. From there he draws a Gale Rune, and a Wind Rune. Then, he draws the Sun Rune, accompanied by the Twilight and Dawn Runes to either sides of it.

"They reproduce naturally, without interactions with others." He explains, adding some arbitrary numbers to the tops of the descendant runes, save for the Twilight and Dawn. "Much as a human child doesn't drop dead when their parent does..." Luc crosses off the True Wind Rune. "... There's no reason that the energy field of the successor Runes would perish. I think it more likely that one Rune or another would gradually combine with other Runes to become a new True Rune."

"Or else the collective extant Runes," He circles both the Gale and Wind Runes, "would pick up the slack. As it is, the cosmic principle behind the Rune's existence is diminishment and separation from their destroyed origin objects."

"I think a sealed True Rune has minimal impact for this reason, and a destroyed True Rune only has a major impact because of the massive release of energy involved."

"Incidentally," Luc dismisses the glowing characters, raising a finger to her forehead, "/You/ are evidence of such an idea. A rune chose you before you were even born. That is a great deal of targeted effort on the part of an agent with such limited sapience and intelligence. I do not think it a coincidence."

"... Which is part of why I'm interested in inducing Rune generation manually, if we can. But--"

Luc deliberately glosses over the subject of Sasarai, and Harmonia now. He fixes her with a rather childish sort of frustration when she breathes into his ear and compliments his not-murderous smile. He /still/ has that annoyed cat look after the second kiss, though.

"I... love you, too, Sarah." He isn't often to be so emotionally direct, and even in a good mood and slightly tipsy it's clear that it isn't something that he can say easily.

"... And I can't keep oscillating between /this/," He gestures up and down at Sarah, "and advanced magical theory. I think I'm stripping some gears that I don't usually have to start with."

Sarah (316) has posed:
The water mage looks up as Luc raises a hand, employing phenomenal cosmic power to... draw a diagram glowing in the air. She watches as he forms the sigils of the three wind runes, and then the solar runes.

"That's true enough. There are still things we don't know about the nature of the True Runes, though. More than that, your situation is unique, to my knowledge." She frowns, settling up against his side and tilting her head thoughtfully. "Still, there's no reason why your hypothesis shouldn't carry some weight."

One would presume that the dislocation or destruction of a True Rune wouldn't cause the same fate in its descendant runes. That would be the ideal outcome in light of Luc's little problem; if the True Wind Rune were deactivated somehow, a massive array of lesser Wind Runes would keep right on chugging and pick up the proverbial slack in keeping his body running.

There's just one hole in that plan, and Sarah frowns thoughtfully. "That's the ideal outcome, but the problem is not that any particular rune could be used to fill that hole; the problem is that True Wind is very specifically the thing entangled with your heart. And if those lesser runes were /not/ powerful enough to fulfill its role in keeping you alive, well." She shrugs, rolling one narrow shoulder. "We would need to unseal it very quickly."

Still, it's a plausible enough hypothesis, to her. Some part of it makes her bristle instinctively, and she isn't quite certain why, but the theory behind it is sound enough to her ears. "No, destroying it won't help you. Or anyone. I think, if anything, destroying them would /lead/ to the Ashen Future. It would erode the balance of the twenty-seven. They've functioned this long as a set, and I think that destabilising that would cause problems."

Her eyes almost cross as he points to indicate the place where the Flowing Rune had originally inscribed itself. Although the rune can't be seen unless she activates it, right over her forehead is where it used to reveal herself when she drew on its power. It's gone quiet since the True Water Rune decided to latch onto her, absolutely subservient to its unquestioned master.

Sarah (316) has posed:
"I suppose I'd almost forgotten about it, for all the trouble it had caused me. It's been quiet, and I can't feel it or make use of it unless I make a conscious effort. It used to be conscious." She shakes her head, idly. "But you make your point."

He still has that annoyed cat look.

Some people might be backing away from Luc wearing an expression like that, but she can't help but find it strangely endearing.

"Ah, Luc." The pale woman laughs softly, reaching out and running a hand along the side of his face. "I know. I'm sorry. I suppose it's a little selfish; it just feels good to hear you say that, sometimes."

His complaint, however, earns a peal of honest-to-goodness laughter. For as breathy and whispery as her /normal/ speaking voice is, this sounds considerably louder than most of the sound she makes in the course of a given day. It takes her a few seconds to contain her mirth, and she's still grinning like the Cheshire cat when she finally does.

"Is that so? I seem to remember you were the one who wanted to teach me to be able to carry on a conversation amidst certain distractions. In fact, I seem to remember you had me outwitten seven times to one, more than once, with such a tactic. Turnabout is terrible, isn't it, love?" Sarah leans forward, pressing a kiss to the wind mage's neck. "Fair enough," she murmurs against his neck, stretching out more comfortably. Her head's starting to feel a little fuzzy again; she can hold off those effects for a little while, but they catch up to her in the end.

Also, she has to remember what that vintage was, because it's absurdly strong.

"Fine. We can discuss advanced magical theory later," she murmurs into his neck, pressing a faint kiss to punctuate her statements. "You can have all of me. Not that you don't have that already, but you did ask so nicely," she adds, amused. There's a faint pause; her breath at his ear.

Then, "More wine?"

It's possible that she's deliberately messing with him at this point. Payback's a bitch.

Luc (237) has posed:
The Wind Mage gives a long-suffering sigh in reaction to, in fact, needing to keep oscillating between completely serious and reasonably intelligent thinking and the absolute opposite of that. Wearily, he says, "I wouldn't be able to make a meaningful experiment out of binding the True Wind Rune. Sealing it while it is still on my body has no adverse effects whatsoever, I lived that way for years and eventually chose to unbind it because I had need of its power in the task ahead of me. More specifically, in trying to destroy it. I unbound it for the /first/ time to blast the army sent by Harmonia to support Highland during the unification war."

"Sasarai," He smiles wickedly, "was flabberghasted. Harmonia was unable to remain involved in the war because of how hard I blindsided them."

"But you're getting me off on another tangent. I would need to remove the True Rune temporarily to see what happens. Since it's /mine/, I can keep it nearby safely and reclaim it from containment as is necessary. I suspect minimum threshold testing will only require a few hours to determine effectiveness."

"Sasarai started getting sick /very/ quickly." He adds, in explanation.

With regards to destroying a True Rune leading to the Ashen Future, Luc confidently shakes his head. "Impossible. The Ashen Future is one of entropic stasis, sustained cyclical behavior persisting as history mraches on is the primary probable cause. Breaking a True Rune may have dire consequences besides that, but I can see no possible scenario in which that ought to cause the Ashen Future itself."

"There probably are simpler ways to derail it. Usurping power in Harmonia, for instance." Luc makes a disgusted face. "As if /I/ want to end up responsible for such a pit of vipers. I thought I wanted to kill Hikusaak once, but I really don't need the responsibilities that would entail."

"I'd probably end up sneaking off in the night, like McDohl."

"And why are you /apologizing/, it's -difficult-, not bad."

Then, Sarah carries on, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Luc, upon considering the matter for a handful of moments, concurs and snorts with amusement himself.

"May I /remind/ you," He reaches forward to draw a finger up her neck to her chin, which he taps once pointedly, "that although it is very amusing -- yes, even to me -- that I'm less capable of holding my own while my brain is functioning correctly, that it is not likely to do so indefinitely."

"Don't think about what I just said too much, it sounds darker than I intended." He adds, off-handedly.

In answer to Sarah's teasing inquiry, Luc answers at once, "Another half-a-glass, I think, yes."

Why? Because Sarah will get fuzzy-headed faster than him and stop being able to tease him as well, that's why.

Sarah (316) has posed:
Turnabout is fair play. Once upon a time, the wind mage had made his companion try to focus on logic when she really wanted to do something else entirely that required nothing in the way of logic. Despite returning to the topic every so often, she's fast losing her desire to actually put conscious effort into it. Now that her attenion is slipping, that wine is starting to take hold with a vengeance.

She really must remember to find more of that. Aside from the fact that it doesn't taste half bad, it's powerful enough to use as a sleep aid. It'll be useful when inevitable nightmares of the Ashen Future wake one or both of them. There are other ways than wine, but wine is the most convenient method when all she wants to do is sleep.

It's pretty doubtful she'll ever have anything in the way of alcohol tolerance. Ever. In this specific case, that works to her advantage.

"Mmm. Not very perceptive, those Harmonian Bishops. Any of them." Sarah waves a hand in vaguely irritable gesture. "Except when it benefits them. I imagine they were thunderstruck, yes. Too bad." She shares his wicked little smile for a fleeting instant. "Their faces must've been priceless."

Sarah really doesn't like Harmonia very much.

"Temporarily." She eyes him, though she's starting to have a little trouble focusing properly. The end result is that she looks like she's paying too much attention as her focus slips. "We have methods to contain it. Wouldn't go too far, I think." The True Wind Rune has made it clear that it prefers Luc as a bearer, and part of her distantly remembers that Sasarai had become violently ill when she had successfully jacked the True Earth Rune from him.

Part of her remembers handling that particular rune, and it's not a pleasant memory. Aside from not being proud of what she'd done, despite all her quiet railing against Harmonian Bishops, the feel of that True Rune had been... wrong, somehow. Water suits her perfectly, but none of the elements ever will fit her so well. Wind is suitable enough, but lightning and earth will always be anathema to her. She's not too fond of fire, either.

With exaggerated care, she disentangles herself from the wind mage, padding across the floor to pour another half-glass of wine for Luc, and less than that for herself. She can feel her self-control eroding little by little. Half a glass would be too much for her at this point. She wants to enjoy herself at least a little; not to slump over unconscious.

At this point, it's becoming more and more of a temptation to tell her self-control to sod off for the night, and she finds she doesn't care about that too much.

Sarah (316) has posed:
"Mmmm. Maybe not," she finally agrees, in response to his observations about the Ashen Future. That's about all the thought she can spare for that, handing him his glass of wine, and draining hers before setting the empty glass aside. She curls back up beside him, as much to be comfortable entwined with him once more as it is because the room is genuinely cold. Summer may be around the corner, but there's still a nip to that night air.

She leans on him, chuckling. "Have to remember where this wine came from, later. Strong. I like that." Even if she's terrible at holding out against it, some distant part of her back-brain that isn't soaked in alcohol is aware of its use as a soporific. "Tastes decent, too. But maybe not as nice as you," she adds, murmuring against the line of his throat. "Done talking. Can't think any more."

With a low chuckle and that warning, Sarah decides to shut Luc up in the best way she can think of right now. He can't talk if she's kissing him, can he?

Under most situations, Sarah is one of the most wonderfully self-controlled persons on the face of the northern continent. She has to be, to keep the more destructive impulses of the True Water Rune in check. Where once she was a bit of an impulsive child thanks to her upbringing, Leknaat tempered her into a calm and collected woman, so much so that those qualities have become cornerstones of her personality.

But not tonight.

Luc is, after all, a terrible distraction and a terrible influence... but she doesn't mind so much, and wouldn't have it any other way.

Luc (237) has posed:
"Temporarily within a particular context," Luc answers plainly, raising a hand to create another lightshow in mid-air. He draws the True Wind Rune enclosed within a circle, "True, the various Runes that we commanded were not commanded indefinitely. However, they did not escape for quite some time, and not of their own volition. Each of them was isolated and in our control even against their Bearers until the final battle, when I incarnated the True Wind Rune bodily. This is /part/ of why I consider the Elemental True Runes to be very passive participants overall."

"It required their chosen bearers in close proximity making conscious effort to recall them," He pops the circle like a bubble, letting the symbol in the air fade and the one on his hand gleam, "in order to reclaim them. Binding a True Rune to limit its functionality within the desires of the Chosen Bearer is something that was done with /all/ the elemental true runes for a period of history, and even seizing the True Runes of others against their will was possible until it was almost too late to do anything about it."

"I am completely confident in my -- or our -- ability to remove my True Rune and keep it close at hand, or bind it indefinitely upon my person. What I am /not/ confident of is..." Luc takes the offered wine glass, but is too thoroughly engrossed in his rant to actually drink it, "... the precise amount of time that I have without my True Rune inside of me, because I am fairly certain it's less time than would be afforded to..."

Sarah shuts Luc up before he can continue his rant. He drops his glass, which rolls onto the bed and spills its contents everywhere. Which is fine, Sarah is a better stain remover than any actual stain remover.

This is ok.