4323/Spear Sleepover

Spear Sleepover
Date of Scene:	15 July 2016
Location:	Great Painting of Ariamis <PoA>
Synopsis:	Priscilla then gets to know Svala a little.
Cast of Characters:	Priscilla, 1014

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Priscilla has posed:
    What should really only be a few days later, takes place within the secure halls of Anor Londo's grand castle. Though Priscilla had indeed failed to uncover enough evidence of further treasonous plots to feel unsafe, a more private atmosphere is practical in this case, as well as probably less stressful to the city's 'newest' inhabitant. The crossbreed has private chambers of course, as is only courtesy to anyone nominally living in the palace, never mind probably the most important one there, though today is one of the few times she really even uses them, and then only for the fact that manners and common decency dictates they'll be an area that nobody will dare barge into.

    Though they're hardly what one would call 'cozy'. Maybe if one were fifteen feet tall, as the proportions of the room seem to dictate the intended audience is. Priscilla isn't right /now/, though, because that makes it awkward to speak casually to anyone that isn't. Even considering that difference though, the room is enormous; shrunk down it would probably still be the size of an entire suburban house, with about the same number of 'rooms', though they're all an open layout so that the sun from outside can suffuse the full area through a preposterously huge window at one end, only really divided by suggestions of walls and handy curtains between them. At least Svala has free choice of a lot of large and extremely comfy furniture, in any area of her choosing. It's not rigidly 'Rennaissance western Europe' in design like a lot of fantasy settings like their interiors, and so it would hardly be difficult to locate sufficient cushions to lounge in if she doesn't like chairs where her feet don't reach the floor. She's had plenty of time to explore the place, and Priscilla doesn't seem to have a lot of competing possessions, mostly being odd, rare, and practical curiosities rather than priceless ornaments.
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Heaven's Armory (1014) has posed:
    Svala has spent more of the intervening time in a single body than otherwise though, given the opporunity, she does look around the area. For her, being in a single body means being an immobile, metal, bladed rod, but this doesn't seem to bother her as much as complete immobility tends to bother most beings that could be called 'people.'
    When in two bodies, the one that looks like a noble's young daughter is as quiet and graceful as the semblance suggests. There's also some curiosity there, but a well-mannered atmosphere that keeps her from appearing nosy... when anyone is looking, at least. Unless and until Priscilla shows inquisitiveness of her own, Svala is likewise willing to keep quiet on any and all mysteries regarding herself. One exception to this is a point she makes clear without waiting through too many opportunities.
    "You should take me with you." No small matter, for one remaining at a human's height. Svala the spear is on the large side of what a human has the armspan to feasibly wield, as anything but a pike, and that's without taking into account how much heavier she is than any spear of even that size should be. It might be difficult to believe she was forged for humans at all.

Priscilla has posed:
    Priscilla, predictably present for a change for the premise of a discussion to be possible, seems as if she may have been expecting something like that to finally come from Svala, and prompt her to finally drop the game of 'awkward silence chicken'. She'd left the spear, seemingly Svala's true body, out on a very large and fancy dresser with a clear view of the window, maybe thinking that she would appreciate being able to look at things going on outside in some sort of vague, misguided pet-owner sense, not knowing how long she can use her spirit body, how far it can go, or how much she even likes using it.

    "Admittedly, I held little hope that thou wouldst be content to remain an ornament for long." she first responds measuredly. "Thou hast mine apologies for being made to wait for so long, but there was much I was forced to do after such an . . . episode. Still, as it wouldst stand, there is even less that I know of thee, and much of a story I wouldst still need to hear. As pleasant, patient and gracious as thou hast been these past days, thou can surely understandeth mine reluctance to involve thee in what is to be mine usual with no knowledge of anything about thee."

Heaven's Armory (1014) has posed:
    Svala listens, thinks for a moment, and nods. "I can answer any question about myself, though not those about someone other. You are my wielder, and my goal is to support you. If you refuse me, then I must find another." A beat's pause. "The qualified are not easily found. I was fortunate that it should be you." Her voice is soft and unhurried, though once she begins speaking, she continues smoothly, easily. Rather than worried over this mention of refusal, the girl gives a small smile, the expression making it to the one eye visible through her bangs.
    "What shall we speak of?"

Priscilla has posed:
    Priscilla seats herself on some conveniently cushy upholstery, not dissilimar from what those who had braved the wrath of Ornstein had found illusion sat on right after. She gestures for Svala to do similar, if it really even is any more comfortable for her. She's already significantly shorter than Priscilla like this. "That is a point of uncertainty. What is it to be 'qualified'? What is it that thou seeketh in others that is supposedly so rarely found, and so arduous to replace? The circumstances around under which we hath met were unfortunately, inarguably chaotic, without time for much in way of proper explanation, or an opportunity to infer cause and effect through logic."

Heaven's Armory (1014) has posed:
    Svala gets up onto the nearest facing seat as soon as Priscilla gestures. Despite her true body's size, this body is quite short. "To pass the necessary judgments is to be qualified. These are a... test." That's the first pause in her speech that didn't feel quite natural. It shows in the slightly halting explanation that follows, as her one, visible eye studies Priscilla, moment by moment. "A test of character, and of fate, but condensed. A magic as like intuition. The qualified must be those that need weapons such as myself, and cannot be those that would misuse us. As you saw, that results in... loss of authority. A breaking of connection." Her lips form a thin line.
    "I had made mistakes. That encounter should not have happened the way it did."

Priscilla has posed:
    "Intuition." Priscilla lets vaguely stand on its own. In a way, that answer is relieving. Something as strangley simple and innocent as magic discerning her character and some indefinite aspects of her destiny is a welcome alternative to the foibles of cognitive decisions based in, by necessity, what this blade would have to have heard about her from less than reputable or charitable sources, or else been privy to stalking of her that is far beyond what Priscilla would wish to entertain in thought. "So thine insistence that I include in mine affairs without full knowledge of what they are, rests in compulsion that thou place deep trust in, despite it being not entirely within the sphere of thine knowledge. That is, admittedly, less suspect of a reason than I had perhaps feared."

    "The question remains however, what is it about mine 'character' that so draws thee? Though thou hast told me of the process, for what reason am I considered 'qualified' by thine yet esoteric standards? I may hazard guesses at what wouldst constitute misuse, however . . ." Priscilla gets partway into an extremely unhelpful hand gesture. "I shalt put it simply: I ill like the thought of being constantly judged and monitored by degrees I knoweth not of, or else fear risking something so disadvantageous at a crucial moment as that."

Heaven's Armory (1014) has posed:
    "Like intuition, it cannot be detailed fully. But, it is this." Svala places a hand over her chest. "We, called Heaven's Armory, were made to be the strongest of all weapons. And we were made with wariness, by a smith zealously pursued perfection, and righteousness. An unbreakable weapon would, one day, fall into the hands of one who opposed all for which it was created. We were made as an answer to that dilemma."
    With her other hand, Svala gestures to Priscilla, halfway between pointing and offering her hand to her. "By my judgment, you are one of whom that smith would approve. You are who requires weapons, and you are one who is, or else can be, a 'hero.' To see that you are given the chance to be, I offer my support." Her hand slowly falls. "There is uncertainty in this. The magic is fallible, and each successive judgment only makes one increasingly certain. I cannot avoid judging those I see. I cannot promise that I would not be wrong, and you would not be disqualified. I can only promise that if I had any suspicion it could occur, I would give you every warning. I have, in every case prior."
    Her eyes close. "I am not always heeded." And open. "If you still wish not to wield me, you will not be forced to. I cannot even attack without my wielder's direction." She spreads her hands, a helpless gesture.

Priscilla has posed:
    'Hero'. It's not precisely the first time she's ever heard that word levelled in a direction that actually implicates her, but is rare enough to hear that it still feels strange in Priscilla's ears. It's true that she's done more than enough that could be considered heroic in action; more than most will ever do in their lifetimes. Despite it, she has rarely ever felt like /a/ hero. It makes her wonder just how much faith she can put in this intuition that who she is, as she is, will be enough to satisfy it without worry. She reasons shortly, that if that isn't the case, at the very worst, she'll be back to where she is now, and that just from speaking to this girl, she feels very little reason to believe that she can't trust her to give those warnings. After all, why would a weapon that seeks only to be used, and that can do nothing by itself, not want to avoid being rendered useless to its wielder? Besides. Hadn't she resolved to take everything she could get here, just a month ago?

    "There is little need for such tension." Priscilla finally says, completely oblique to the topic itself. "Though the way thou hast come to me hast threaded itself through sad circumstance, I am no woman likely to reject an open heart from one so quietly earnest in any regard." Her tone is significantly less wary; almost warm, for whatever that can be imagined from someone so perpetually cold by default. "Mine apologies, it was selfish of me to be so worried only of mine own convenience when I am interrogating one left without home or master. It is hardly a show of any due hospitality. Were thou to think ill of mineself, I wouldst find thee a new place despite it, as I hath said before I couldst not in good conscience abandon one in need who hast been used so. Thine father, at least, was very wise in what he wouldst bestoweth upon his daughters, for such sad inconvenience is a freedom in of its own that well outweighs what other suffering wouldst only arise. Upon the same page then, so too can I not in good conscious spurn a blade that wishes only to be wielded, and a personage that wishes only to aid and serve in good faith. If what it is that I do pleases thee, then thou art deserving at least in sharing it for the time it suits thee; thus much easily I owe thee."

Heaven's Armory (1014) has posed:
    "Ah, no... your caution was a result of our meeting, and that was... a failure on my part." Svala fidgets briefly at the turn of conversation. Presently, she gives a nod. "That is all I can hope for, that you give me every chance to observe, and to find another wielder if our own connection must be broken. Though... I do not think it will be. That is my own intuition." One might expect, of a girl in her predicament, a sense of relief at being taken in, but that's not the impression she gives. Rather, there's a sense of genuine warmth returned to Priscilla's own relative warming, showing in the smile and eye turned up, to meet with the taller of the pair.
    "My father... yes, I do think of my creator as such. Like a father, he left a guiding teaching. And as his daughter, I interpret it, and make my own judgment. I think he would approve of you. And thus, am I glad to be in your service."

Priscilla has posed:
    Conversely, /Priscilla/ is the one who seems a little relieved at having her conversation partner let the cautious formality drop. "Very well then. I will admit, this shalt be mine first time in . . . well, a very long time, providing hospitality to another in any personal fashion for more than a brief length of time. It hast been quite a while since I had expected to share a significant portion of mine time with a singular companion. Whatever thine needs art, I am afraid thou wilst be required to make them clearer than perhaps usually necessary, as to beginneth with, I shalt hope thou dost not mind mineself saying that thou art something of an unusual companion in the first place. All that strikes mineself at the moment is that some introductions to others here shalt be in order, and that thou art most likely tired of languishing in this room on thine own."

Heaven's Armory (1014) has posed:
    "I am, after all, a spear. I need very little that any other spear does not need. You need not worry." Svala nods, and nods again. "Seeing the others that surround you is something I'd like to do. Knowing more of the world you are in, and the people within it, can only help me in supporting you. That is the second step, after being at your side." She's a little more animated, at least in her voice, by this point.
    "It is..." She pauses, suddenly, and cocks her head to one side, finally letting that second eye gleam through her bangs. "...to languish, that is something I don't want. As you say. My desire is to be wielded, by one who has use of me. Though, I think that my 'desire' is a different kind of thing than that of others, because I am a spear. It might be misleading for me to have said so, but explaining is not easy."

Priscilla has posed:
    "I had suspected some, but such clears up much." Priscilla finally says; satisfied. "I am certain thou shalt hath little difficulty finding home here, though if thou mind not, I shalt be spreading thine name somewhat selectively at first, and thou shalt hath a great many people I wouldst introduce thee to individually or in small doses, as I wouldst ill like to wave thee before an assembly. After then . . . well, thou shalt come to knoweth the members of the Union in short order, I am certain. I admit I am not a master of the spear itself, though possesseth some well translatable experience, and so I believeth some training as acclimation wouldst be not out of order either." She seems very much into the idea of having Svala around all of a sudden.