359/Inga's Introduction to Modern Living feat. Riva and Elle

Inga's Introduction to Modern Living feat. Riva and Elle
Date of Scene:	07 August 2014
Location:	Estate Lamb
Synopsis:	Elle brings Inga back to House Lamb to clean up and learn more about modern life
Cast of Characters:	40, Inga

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Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    Welcome to the front parlor of Eleanor's house. The home is a larger affair to accomidate all the girls who live here. It's been as many as 10 before with help but now there are only six.
    There's also a viking lady now, who's been escorted through Union security to the home in the residential sections of the base. There's hustle and bustle in the home, as young ladies are busy shifting and sorting and cooking and getting food ready. Actual food, not prepared stuff. Smells like some sort of meat as well as bread and veggies. Mmmmm.

    At some point, someone has brought Inga a bottle of cider.

    The couch she is offered is well worn and comfortable.

Inga has posed:
Inga was pefectly happy to be a little fussed over. She smiles kindly to the girls, talking easily with them as she makes herself comfortable in this rather grand place. She has been happily drinking the cider when she sits on the couch, easily the softest surface she'd ever slept on. It must have taken so many feathers to stuff those cushions!

"Do you need help in the kitchen?" she asks, smelling the amazing aroma of food being cooked. Soon, she may even inquire about a bath.

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    Eleanor herslef squeaks out into the parlor, carrying a young girl with pretty red curls on her hip. The young lady is in that sleepy-sulky state of being, unwilling to let go of her Big Sister. "Ah, not just yet, the eldest are working on it. Nothing too complicated, just roast chicken breasts and some dinner rolls." She smiles, and slumps into the couch next to Inga. "Inga, this is Mary. No last name, she wasn't sure what it was any more once we rescued her last year." She pets quietly at the girls hair as the young lady hides her face.

    There's some banging around up in one of the vents over Inga's head, and a little girl pokes her head out. A brunette. "Ellie, Alice hit me, tell her to get a time out." An answering, echoing cry from deeper in the vent, along with more banging. "She's lying she hit me first!"

    Elle sighs, and looks at Inga. "Welcome to my home."

Inga has posed:
Inga nods, glad actually that she doesn't need to help. She'll welcome a little relaxation now that she's out of Kingsmouth. She knows she'll have to go back, afterall.

The woman smiles to Mary. She's obviously at that shy age. Rescued? And apparently she has been though something difficult. Inga frowns thoughtfully for a moment, then reaches into her belt pouch, pulling out something small. "It is nice to meet you Mary," she says, even though she thinks that's just an /awful/ name. "Would you like to see something pretty?" she asks, unfolding her hand and holding it toward Mary. An amber bead rests in her palm, catching the light. "You can have it if you want. Amber is sacred to the goddess Freya. It is good luck," she explains.

She turns her head toward the stairs then, smiling again with mild amusement. Well, at least children haven't really changed. That is extremely comforting. "Why thank you. It is a lovely home indeed."

Back to Eleanor, Inga nods. "It smells very appetizing. Thank you again Eleanor, for inviting me here. It is good to get away from the stench of the undead and rotting sea."

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    Eleanor smiles a bit and shifts Mary closer. But she's looking up at the vent. "Lana, don't hit your sister. Alice, don't hit your sister." The brunette POUTS HARD, before stomping back into the vent again. There's scuffling noises, and a little snap of static discharging. ...Techincally lightning isn't hitting.

    Mary's blue eyes look at the bead and then back at Inga and then she reaches out to snag the amber pebble, mumbling a 'tank you' to the witch. She bites her lip at Freya, and nods. "Good luck, okay."
    Eleanor smiles happily and looks to Inga as Mary examines the pebble. "Thank you. I inheirited the money after someone was foolish enough to name me a Duchess for a while. Moved the house I was gifted here to the Union and have lived here with my Sisterss ever since." A look. "Sister is a term from home for these girls. The Little Sisters. Sort of a way to make the job we were all given... more palatable to the people using us."

    The oldest girl comes out, bows to Inga, and hands her a little basket of dinner rolls, already cracked and buttered.

Inga has posed:
Inga smiles as Mary takes the bead. When you've given a gift by a witch, she's not just making up that it is good luck.

At the sounds of static discharging, Inga raises a brow. "A...duchess? A Lady of power, yes?" she asks to confirm, nodding.

"They are not your sisters by blood, but by oath?" she asks.

"And what is that job?" she cannot help but ask.

When a girl comes out with a basket of buttered rolls, Inga looks to her like she's her favorite person in the world. "Thank you dear," she says, taking a roll. She takes a small bite, reminding herself not to eat to voraciously. Perhaps it was the change that had come over her, but she feels like she's always hungry.

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    Eleanor bites her lip and snickers at the speed of her eating, but.. she's not about to fault the lady. She does put a more serious look on her face. "The masters of the place I came from devised a way to let everyone have the sorts of powers you and I share, freely and without any sort of training or discipline. And they used use to make them. Us, at this age." She parts Mary on the back, who burbles something about Angels. The little girl is fidgeting with the stone now.
    Elle's face grows serious. "That is why I rescue them, whenever I can, because other worlds like mine keep popping up, where people are being powered by the suffering of little girls."

Inga has posed:
Inga frowns gently. "Freely, without training? That seems...a terrible idea. The training is more than just the way of magic, but the /why/. I began my training when I was her age," she says, gesturing toward Mary. "That was uncommon however. Most do not start so young," she continues. "Your masters? You are not freewomen?" she asks.

"Worlds powered y the suffering of little girls?" she asks then, clearly horrified. The more she seems to learn about the worlds, the more appalled she becomes.

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    A wry smile. "The place I lived was called Rapture, ruled by the rich, the powerful, the brilliant, without a government. No kings, no gods, only men." She pokes Mary in the side, and murmurs. "It's alright, she's a good witch." The redhead hups a little bit, finally releasing her deathgrip from Elle and taking the Big Sister's lap. "We were used, enslaved, to create the fluids that made the Plasmids." She bites her lip, trying to find the right words... and smiles. The advertising. She singsongs, quietly, singing a jingle. o/` A little boost is all you need, Average Joe to Hercules! A Stronger Arm, A Sharper Brain, That's Why The Future Is Fontaine! o/`

    "They sold this to people without testing, and the substance turned them into monsters. Both mentally and physically. They hunted each other, the whole city devolved into civil war, and lays at the bottom of the ocean, wounded but refusing to die."

Inga has posed:
Inga's frown only grows as Eleanor continues. "I hope you do not take offense, but that sounds like a terrible place. No gods, no kings....Tch. I cannot think men would be any different elsewhere than those I knew--they'd not be men. That is a recipe for distaster," she responds.

Inga does spare a smile for Mary, thinking perhaps when she has some materials she will make the girl a doll. Of course, she'll have to find the other girls gifts as well.

While there are things about this that is hard for her to wrap her head around, she manages to frame it in a way she thinks she can understand. "A sort of potion then, but these brilliant men cared little for what it would do to others? Tch, what folly."

"You and others like you were used to create this potion, tch! No respect for the learned. Why did you not curse them?" she asks, as if it is matter of fact.

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    Eleanor taps her forehead. "They enslaved us all the way. Hn. Ensorcelled us. Put a geas on. Forced us to drink of the dead in order to recover the fluids. Mustn't let any of it go to waste on the deceased, after all."
    Elle ruffles at Mary's hair, as the girl makes a face. "It was yucky. Mr. Bubbles was always there to help us though." The redhead is clutching the little gem now, as she waves her other hand. "And we had to go and be all gross and stuff and it was REALLY SCARY but Elle found me and now I don't have to do any of that." She nods her head and smiles.

    Eleanor snorts, and pats her Sister. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

Inga has posed:
Inga's eyes narrow, nodding. "I know how to do such things--but magic always has a price, and doing something like that...the price is rather steep," she comments, not going into any further detail. Perhaps if tender young ears where not listening, she could provide a few stories as evidence. As for the implied cannablism? Inga's expression says it all. Disgust, as most would be. Even a 'primitive' as she may be.

Inga looks to Mary then, nodding. "If you have not learned since you left there, I can teach you how to protect yourself from magic such as that. And oh, I can teach you such curses to lay upon those who would try..." she says, a smile appearing.

Then, puzzled, "Who or what is Mr. Bubbles?"

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    Mary squeaks. "Oh oh oh I can do that, watch." She gets up on her tippy toes, touches a fingertip to Inga's bottle of cider, screws up her little face and... the bottle frosts over, chilling the drink. A little happy look. "I can cold-i-fy things! It's REALLY COOL."

    Eleanor sighs, and looks at Mary. "Remember, Mary, what's the rule?" The redhead's shoulders straighten. "Only use the cold on bad people and when 'mmm bein' careful."
    Elle pats the redhead. "Good girl."

    And right on cue, a large, metal diving suit starts to wander past the bay windows of the front lawn. It's easily 8 feet tall, with dull green lights coming out of the bubbled portholes of the helmet. One arm is replaced with a massive screw drill, the other hand is clutching what appears to be a bicycle. The 'man' lumbers past, a slight rumble in the floor with each ponderous step. Content and lazy whale noises emenante from the suit.

    Eleanor murmurs. "That is one of the... things... they created to protect us in our tasks. We call them the Big Daddies. The girls tend to call them Mr. Bubbles thanks to the... well, the bubbles on the front."

Inga has posed:
Inga is still a little alarmed to see this power, even with all the others things she's seen. It is still a surprise. Quickly enough though, she smiles. "Very good! That is very nice Mary," she says.

When a 'mr. bubbles' walks by the window however, Inga nearly jumps out of her skin. "Odin's bones!" she exclaims

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    Eleanor smiles quietly and puts a hand on Inga's shoulder. "Shh shhh. It's okay. His name is 'Hank'." That comes out to some very common sounding name in Norse. Very pain name. "He's docile, so long as you do not harm the girls."

Inga has posed:
Inga nods, though she still looks wary. "I see. He is your creature then," she says. Perhaps he is one of those...golem things Staren kept talking about. "Of course I would not harm the girls! This all...it reminds me quite a bit of home," she replies, unable to hide the sadness that touches her. "We never had quite so many at a time...as I said, it was rare for someone to start as young as I. I always looked forward to seeing the children though, when I grew up, anyway. I did not really play with children when I was actually a child," she explains. She hadn't had a normal childhood in the least.

Inga looks back to Eleanor, pursing her lips slightly. "You stay here now. You raise them on your own? No man? No thralls of your own besides--well, Hank?" she asks.

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    Eleanor's cheeks blush a bit at 'no man'. "Ah, no, no man. A number of the girls who work for the Union come and help watch when I am called away for my duties, but no. I'm not exactly the courting type, now am I?" She bites her lip. "I'm still not certain who'd want to live with a monster. As much that has happened to the girls, I had heaped on me many times more, and I can... ah."

    She lets out a breath. "I'm not certain who'd want me like this."

Inga has posed:
Inga looks rather confused at Eleanor's response, giving her a pointed look over. "Monster? I do not know what you are talking about. You are quite comely. I see no reason a man would not want to court you," she replies.

"Tch...am I missing something? I cannot see how you would think yourself a 'monster'. You have power yes, I suppose that can be intimidating to some...but that cannot be what you mean?" she asks.

Inga gestures to her staff, then to herself. The slightly crooked set of her body, the limp. "Tch even I have had some offers, though I doubt it is for my feminine charms they have called," she said, a touch of bitterness entering her voice.

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    Mary breaks this one. "Ellie's got like a whole bunch of people inside her. Some of us have that that too but Ellie's got more."
    Elle sighs, and murmurs. "That fluid, the stuff in the blood, it carrie's people's memories, their thoughts and experiences with it. My Mother intended... intended to instill all of the knowledge of... everyone she could find into me. She wanted me to be Perfect, to emerge as the Messiah."
    Blood sacrifice writ large on an innocent girl.

Inga has posed:
Inga is silent for a while, her expression thoughtful. This is a good bit to take in after all. Complicated.

"I have never heard of such a thing...that is a lot of knowledge to be burdened with. To have so many other memories..." she shakes her head. "I cannot imagine."

"But you are you still. You are Eleanor. I am still not seeing what would keep a man away," she adds. She sits back then, crossing her arms. "I do wonder...if it is in the blood...well, I suppose I do not know nearly enough about such things to attempt it. Even if you wanted to be rid of it," she finishes.

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    "I have... well." Eleanor's face softens a little bit. "I have come to terms, mostly. Still, I have rotten luck with boys, so." More blushing.
    The last bit catches up though. "Ah, but I am... I am I. Despite the lapses sometimes. I have a partner to help, a device, who helps keep the voices at bay when they are not needed. So." She blushes a little harder. "Also I wouldn't know where to start these days."

Inga has posed:
Inga raises a brow. The blushing is rather adorable. She isn't sure she could ever blush. She's told its charming. She smiles though, laughing lightly. "I am aware of how it all work in theory...but in the rest we are the same," she admits with a shrug. "It is not something I was ever taught to consider. Marriage, children, that was for other women. Many witches are also wives...but they are not...chosen, as I was. I thought it was my duty to serve the gods only," she replies, then wonders why she spoke in past tense. Of course it is her duty to serve the gods. Now more than ever.

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    Eleanor sighs. "Mother actively tried to keep me isolated from people, called them unworthy or other nonsense. Irrational beings in a dog eat dog world. The one boy I liked as a child was dissapeared off into the night. Poof. Gone."
    Elle lets out a grumpy breath. "Perhaps it is simply bad thoughts now."

Inga has posed:
Inga nods. "It was similar for me. I was kept away from other childen. My gift for prophecy--the circumstances of my birth...they set me apart. I came to accept it," she says, hoping she made it sound easier than it was.

A smile, a fond memory..."Ah, I had a young man I fancied. I was much younger. He saved me from drowning. Went on to marry a girl from his village. He had eyes like the sky in winter," she says.

"Heh, well, it is not impossible for you--if that is what you want. A woman of your talents can do just fine without a man," she comments, reaching for another roll.

"I did want to ask if I might use your bath while I am here? I'll be covered in the gore of the undead again before long I am sure...but I still reek of seawater and I would welcome a good soak."

Eleanor Lamb (40) has posed:
    Eleanor smiles. "There is a shower."

    A blink. "Hot water that sprays down on you, all over. For as long as you need it. Or a nice bath, we have both." She points down a hallway. "First door on the right, the room is tiled in... ah, tiles." A shrug. "Mosaic but not, just functional. Stone."

Inga has posed:
Inga raises a brow. A shower, like rain? "So...it rains, but hot?" she asks. "I would like to soak in a bath, helps the aches, but then I will perhaps give this shower a try," she says, sounding intrigued.

A sigh. "I do look forward to the day that not every little thing needs to be explained to me," she comments. She waves a hand in dismissal. "Thank you Eleanor. You have been very kind to me. I hope they I will have the chance to repay the kindness. If ever you would like me to look after the girls I would be happy to--and to teach them as well if you'd like."