2159/Curses and Clarity

Curses and Clarity
Date of Scene:	04 May 2015
Location:	Island of Aeaea <IA>
Synopsis:	In which Lute tries to get curses off of himself by visiting a Servant who curses people.
Cast of Characters:	181, 188, 701

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Circe (701) has posed:
    Aeaea is a gorgeous tropical island. Also a Noble Phantasm, so it is basically an entire island made of ultra-concentrated magial energy. But everything here behaves and looks and feels like the genuine article. But good luck trying to burn down a tree or damage a building if you're not an incredibly superhuman being or wielding an equivalent weapon. The palace of Circe is a pristine building sitting on a hill in the jungle, beneath the volcano that looms high into the sky, above everything else. The path from the clear blue waters surrounding the island, up the well-kept beaches, through the steaming jungles, and finally up to the front step of the palace was, while not a very long journey, at least one that tends to give people time to enjoy the splendour of the island.

    In Lute's case, he may be less focused on the tropical paradise he finds himself in and more on getting rid of the curses plaguing him, but that doesn't make his surroundings any less pleasant. Beautiful women, nymphs and nereids, can be found scattered around - on the beaches, maintaining the jungle path, putting out fresh fruit and clean water for visitors or anyone who happens to be going along one of the paths, so on and so forth. While they may acknowledge Lute in passing, they do not go out of their way to interact with him otherwise, and instead direct him to the palace and then show him inside once he gets there. The main room beyond the entrance is a banquet hall, with long tables heaped with food and drink, and the entire room lavishly decorated.

    Lute will be shown in, seated, poured some wine and informed that the queen will be with him shortly.

    A pleasant place to get decursed, really.

Lute (188) has posed:
     As Lute arrives, the beauty of this place is immediately contrasted by the entourage he brings with him. He rides in on the wings of Giratina, flanked by a horde of Unown keeping a look out. Following along at sea level is Lute's I-Class Destroyer, Imima. Even Mr. Crabs is stationed about ten miles away from the island or so. Even though Lute is coming for peaceful reasons, he's bringing most of his forces, as usual. Travelling the ocean is a bit more troublesome for him now. He doesn't want to be ambushed by Fleet Daughters.

     He starts walking to the palace as the various attendants direct him. Normally, he'd be getting a bit flirty with them. But, sadly, he has other things bugging him right now. He's occasionally randomly yelling at cats invisible to all but himself. And, to make matters worse, a particularly large and ugly crocodile is now following him. It'll stop if anyone tries to stop it. But, it gives hungry eyes towards Lute. And this is part of why Lute is keeping Imima with him, even as he goes to the palace. He at least recalls his Giratina, and his Unown slip under his lab coat, merging with the back.

     And, once seated inside? He tries to remain calm. He takes a sip of the wine, and grimmaces as he swallows. Because now the food tastes like blood to him. Yeah, the curses are beginning to get worse. Or perhaps others are just finally activating now?

Circe (701) has posed:
    Given that the entire ocean surrounding the island is part of the Noble Phantasm, and has a hefty bounded field around it to keep out intruders, there's not much cause for such defensive measures, but one never knows when one might get ambushed when one is Lute, and the curses probably also give cause for concern. A few lions and wolves and bears that were lounging around outside keep the crocodile from following Lute indoors, by attempting to play with it. Despite being such ferocious predators, they act more like domesticated animals.

    Once Lute is seated and drinking his blood wine, motes of fiery red light begin to condense nearby as Caster's voice calls out to him, "Welcome. I am sorry to hear that the beverages are not to your liking. Perhaps that will change soon." The Servant manifests out of thin air, nearby. Her hands are full with a tray covered in mixing bowls, small bottles filled with fluids, jars with various powders, and pellets, and so on.

    She takes one look at Lute, her red eyes bearing cat-like or reptile-like, slit-pupils, and says, "Hmph. I can untangle all of that, but there will be additional steps needed to make sure there is no revisitation by the ones who afflicted you. Starting with, 'do not keep antagonizing them'." A bottle of something blue and cool-looking is thrust towards Lute as Circe seats herself on a cushion next to him and sets down the tray. "Drink this."

    If Lute drinks it, it will seem to scald the hell out of his throat, but it will also remove the speaking in ancient Egyptian curse. The persistent burning and inability to talk for several seconds afterwards will go away after a bit.

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute lets out a sigh of relief as Caster appears. He moves the cup aside, and leans forward, supporting his head with his hands, elbows on the table. It is not the most polite method, but he's just rubbing at his face and eyes, trying to get his focus off of the constant yowling of cats that he is hearing. He opens his mouth, pausing a bit, until he finally speaks, still in Egyptian.

     "...Sorry about not liking the drink. I'm sure it's the curse. I don't mean any offense. ...And yeah, I'm... really hoping it'll change. Cause it's just... Getting worse and worse."

     And then, the comment about making sure the curses don't come /back/. He hadn't even thought of that as a possibility. He lets out a bit of a groan at that, but he relents, "Alright... I'll not antagonize them more. I'll... get rid of most of the stuff. Probably can at least sell it to a museum, or hand it out to people who will take good care of it."

     He takes the bottle. While many would pause a bit before taking some strange liquid offered to them by someone they barely even know, Lute of course is taking it without worry. And, he starts chugging it. He's not caring for manners. He just wants the curses lifted as quickly as possible. But, as he begins to feel his throat burning, he /tries/ to scream. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out but a gasp of air. His eyes are watering, and becoming blood shot. He grabs at his throat on instinct.

     Once the burning stops, and once he can actually scream again, he shouts in rage, "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" But, he pauses for a second. It takes him a moment, but then he realizes it worked. He looks down, muttering, "...Did it have to be so painful?"

Circe (701) has posed:
    Circe doesn't seem to have taken any pleasure in Lute's suffering or anything, but she doesn't seem terribly sympathetic either. "I am removing a curse placed by the ancient dead, possibly by a divine being, through what amounts to magical brute force. It was not expected that it would hurt you, but it makes sense. What other curses are you suffering from? Tasting blood? Being followed by a crocodile? Hearing cats? Possibly seeing them as well? I'll deal with the top layers before dealing with any beneath them." Some black powder is mixed with some green herbs in a mixing bowl and then ground together. Caster takes a moment to snatch up Lute's goblet and pour some of the wine into the bowl.

    When this is mixed in as well, and after Lute has answered what kind of curses he is aware of having, she says, "Stick out your tongue. This should not hurt at all, but do not swallow." It tastes like mud when she brushes it onto Lute's tongue. Because it is mostly made out of mud. With wine and some kind of magical herb.

    She already has a small container ready for him to spit into once he washes his mouth out with a stone cup of clear, clean, much-better-tasting water held in her other hand. Things should no long taste like blood.

    "I know you do not want to hear this, but once all the curses are removed, you should go back to the site of the ruins and apologize to those who were stolen from. Out loud, preferably, though silent prayer might work too. It might not matter if you mean it, though even if your apology is out of exasperation rather than sincerity, you should at least truthfully regret what has happened. Whatever the reason for that regret might be." So Lute could regret that he got cursed, rather than that he stole, hypothetically. Regret the punishment, but not the crime.

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute lays his head on the table, just for a second. He sighs again. His mind is wandering a bit, thinking back. As a Confederate Elite, he has dealt with a wide range of different healers of various kinds. At the moment, his mind wanders back to Dr. Xiang. And the fact that Xiang's healing methods were often unnecessarily torturous. He ponders for a moment. Is that going on here? But, he pushes this out of his head, for now. He hasn't met Circe. She has no reason to hate him, as far as he knows. And so, as he watches her mix the remedy, he listens as well as he can.

     "...Forcing them off, then. Well. I guess if you don't know how it'll react, there is nothing that can be done. As for curses... Yeah. Tasting blood, followed by that crocodile who is apparently named Ammit. I'm hearing cats, but occasionally I'm beginning to see them as well. The last curse is apparently.... something to do with misfortune and persecution against me. Those are the only symptoms I've had. ...Hoping no more form, but seeing that nothing new has happened since that crocodile, I'm hoping that's it."

     He straightens up again for the next remedy, but his hands brace himself against the table. He sticks his tongue out, and winces as the mud mixture is placed on it. He lets it sit on his tongue for a moment, but quickly spits it out into the receptacle for it. He breathes through his nose, using his fingers to try and wipe as much of it off of his tongue as possible. He then grabs the water, and uses that to rinse more. He wants as little of that remaining in his mouth as possible, hence both grabbing it out and washing it out. He pants heavily afterwards, but otherwise says nothing to complain. Instead, he just listens again.

     "...I'm... A /bit/ worried to visit again, because there was a Sphinx guarding the place. But. I'll try to do this while the sphinx is sleeping or something. And... Yeah. I regret what's happening to me. So, yeah, I could make a real apology. ...I'm assuming the less BS, the more sincerely I speak about my regret, the better it works? I know magic is usually pretty skilled at catching lies."

Circe (701) has posed:
    The red-haired Servant shrugs. "Conditional magecraft may have certain components to ensure that its conditions are fulfilled, and those may include behaviors, such as truthfulness. My curses are more along the lines of 'split someone's head open' or 'turn them into a bird', but such things exist. It is up to you whether to risk attempting to make ammends without having learned your lesson or whether to hope it marks deed rather than intent." Caster considers Ammit. Ammit the Beast. While she is not an expert on Egypt or Egyptian mythology, the name sounds familiar.

    "I can weave a cloak of invisibility for you if you would like to remain hidden when you visit. Weaving and tailoring is one of my specialties." Next potion to be administered is apparently... An empty bottle? Circe uncorks it, puts her dusky-skinned hand over the top and then brings it towards Lute's face as she encourages him to meet her half way. "I am just going to waft this under your eyes briefly and then stopper it again. The hearing the cats bit will have to wait." Unlike the other two so far, nothing unusual happens other than not seeing cats anymore once whatever vapor or invisible substane is in the bottle has done its work. It doesn't even have any odor to it.

    "So people have been persecuting you more than is usual since the curses began? The preventative measure of apology might actually be the solution to that one as well. If people persist afterwards, then they may just be choosing to of their own will, in which case they are, as people say these days, 'jerks'."

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute ponders a bit. He looks distant. This is, of course, incredibly unusual for him. Normally he'd be flirting with Caster almost immediately. He simply considers the words, as he just stares at the cats floating in front of him. They'd be a lot more pleasant if they weren't missing their skin.

     "...A cloak of invisibility might be good for this. At the least, it'd give me a chance to apologize. I'd rather take the risk of going back there, because I imagine it can't hurt much more."

     As the vapor flows into Lute's eyes, a massive sigh of relief. He closes his eyes for a second, before opening again. He looks at Circe, his eyes drooping due to exhaustion of seeing so many cats everywhere, "...Well. No more cats that I can see. So... That is a major, major relief. Just... God, why did their /skin/ have to be off. Why were they bleeding. Urgh." But, he pauses for a second. Now able to see a bit more clearly. It's worth noting that he isn't really looking at Circe's face all that much. "...Man. I wish I had met you earlier. Outside of this sort of situation. Because /damn/." Yeah, he doesn't explain more than that, he assumes it is obvious.

     And Lute shrugs at the persecution bit, "Yeah, no one has noticed, but apparently the curse is supposed to make people hate me more. Which all of them seem to be doing constantly. ...Though yeah, if they're still jerks after it's cleared, no big deal. But hey, I want that curse cleared as soon as possible too, and if apologizing is the way to do it..."

Circe (701) has posed:
    Caster seems quite displeased suddenly! "Missing their skin? How ghastly! It is fortunate I did not have that curse. I can not stand to see beasts suffer." Oh, that's what she's upset about. If she is bothered by Lute's line of sight, she doesn't show it. Maybe she's used to it. "Now for hearing them... Hmm... I wish I had one of those 'eye droppers'..." She picks up a bottle of something pink and sweet smelling. "Well, we have met now, and all Confederates are welcome to visit my island. I am certain we will have much opportunity to speak in the future. I would offer to let you rest here for the night, as you seem to be quite exhausted, but as you have said, resolving these curses and any supernatural debt, as quickly as possible would be to your benefit."

    She gently attempts to tilt Lute's head to one side through the application of her hand to the side of his face and then says, "This is going to be poured in your ear. Just a bit. Let me know when you stop hearing the cats." If Lute cooperates he gets another unpleasant feeling. At least it's not painful, but there's a sizzling sound inside his ear with each drop that is carefully poured in, and (though he can't see it) pink smoke coming out. But at least it doesn't HURT. It just feels like maybe it SHOULD hurt, even though it doesn't.

    Once she has done one ear, she'll do the other.

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute poners a bit, then shrugs again, "I don't think they were... actual cat ghosts, but its hard to tell. I got that curse from the mummified cats I found, though. They apparently mummified cats, finding them holy, and then put them in sarcophagii to keep them safe. But that... I think it was after the cat is dead? I don't know, they don't do this stuff on my own world."

     And then, the offer to stay for the night. He pauses, pondering. Must not ask to share a bed with her. Must not ask to share a bed with her. Even if she is oblivious to his lecherousness, or okay with it, he knows that Caster is bound to Psalm. And he thinks back. Psalm hated him, right? Probably not the best idea. And so, he keeps repeating to himself mentally, don't ask if they can share a bed.

     "...If I stayed, could we share a bed?"

     DAMNIT.

     "--nevermind, just thinking aloud. Uh. Yes. Likely part of the curse. Probably. Making me say things out loud when I shouldn't be, and wouldn't ask them otherwise."

     Lute doesn't fight as his head is tilted to the side. He winces a bit as the fluid feels his ears. This isn't terrible, but is unpleasant. Reminds him, briefly, of one time where he got water caught in his inner ear, and used drops to dry it up. But, after a bit, he speaks again, "..Yeah, not hearing cats from that ear."

     And then, the other ear. Despite the discomfort, he lets out a sigh of relief as the cacophany quiets.

     "...Oh thank god, that and the visuals were probably the worst part of the curse."

Circe (701) has posed:
    Caster seems to take Lute's suggestion as a joke, as she just laughs lightly a little bit. Not uproarious laughter or mocking laughter, but she didn't really respond as though she thought he was serious. She does say, "There are many fine guest rooms available. We can discuss you staying in one of them when the curse is no longer making you do things that would give people cause to persecute you. Although..." She taps her chin as she looks at Lute slyly. "I thought that the curse was making people persecute you unjustly?"

    She lets that sit for a moment, as she ponders the crocodile problem. "I will go speak to the crocodile." She rises from her seat, levitating up into the air, and starts heading out of the banquet hall. "You will be brought a fresh drink while you wait." As Circe travels outside, Lute is, indeed, brought a replacement drink for the one that was used to purge his tongue of the blood-tasting curse. The nymph bows after delivering it, and then heads back to stand near one of the walls and wait.

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute pauses. Staring blankly. Much like someone who has something to hide. He speaks, rather monotone, trying to get him out of a situation where she might slowly realize he is serious.

     "Yes the curse is making me persecuted unjustly and hence making me say things that I wouldn't say, which is unjust, but I do in fact think you are an attractive woman and I would rather not be on the bad side of someone lifting curses from me and as such I would not normally blatantly flirt with you that obviously especially considering your Master probably wouldn't like it and I'd be happy to stay another day when fully uncursed."

     Blank stare. Yes. That should do it. Yeah, he totally won't get on Psalm's bad side for that.

     More casually, "Yeah, go deal with the crocodile."

     While Circe heads outside, Lute smiles and nods at the nymph delivering him the new drink. After taking a sip, and being super glad it no longer tastes like blood, he looks at her. Again, smiling. This should be a safer target, most likely.

     "...Thanks for the drink. So, what's your name, miss?"

Circe (701) has posed:
    Explanation accepted, it seems!

    The nymph answers promptly, once Circe has left and she is spoken to. She smiles as she introduces herself. "You are most welcome, though no thanks are necessary. My name is Ephyra." There is a sound outside like thunder and the brilliant sunlight shining in through the openings that serve as windows darkens. Ephyra turns her attention from Lute to the outdoors, raising up on her tiptoes as though that would give her a better view, before deciding that if her queen required her, she would be made aware of it. After several seconds, the light level resumes, and the growl of thunder in the heavens subsides. A while after that, the red-haired Servant drifts back inside. "I have bargained with the crocodile. As he or she was not truly a god, if the world of his origin even had an 'Ammit' as a divine entity, this crocodile has agreed, as a representative of whatever force he serves, to leave you be until the sunrises tomorrow morning, on the condition that you do as I suggested earlier."

    Then, off-handedly, she adds on as she drifts back to seat herself at the table, "If you fail to do so, he will crush your skull in his jaws the next time you sleep or venture near water." That is probably not the news that Lute was hoping to hear, but at least he won't be followed back to the desert or anything. "I suppose I should begin working on that invisibility cloak as soon as possible, yes?" She is back up into the air again. "Ephyra, Nerea, Halie, Pherusa, fetch me my loom and fabrics." Four of the water nymphs around the room lower their heads in acknowledgement and then skip off to do just that.

    "If all else fails, I can attempt to break Ammit's curse as well. Allowing an ally to be killed would be quite an error on my part. I just thought you might want to spare yourself further treatment, as it would involve me putting several crocodile teeth into your lips for the remainder of the day." The redhead holds out her hand to show she has several 'fresh' crocodile teeth in her palm. They're still bloody.

Psalm (181) has posed:
    There's a musical tone from behind Lute, and a yawwwwwning. Someone is dripping water.

    It's Maggie's voice. "Bother, Solanda, I was having a nice swim and then all this terrible noise and..." Magatha Songsteel comes walking around from behind the trainer, wearing a heavy one-piece purple swimsuit. That is in fact showing off the heavy tattooing of her arms and legs.

    She gets up on her tiptoes and kisses Caster on the cheek. "Do we really need to help him?" She looks over her shoulder at Lute and stats wringing out her hair.

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute, for his part, seems rather unphased by the commotion outside. He assumes that if Caster needed help, he'd be called. But, sadly, the commotion keeps him from having a chance to hit on the nymph further, due to it being a bit distracting. But with Caster returning, he sighs in relief at what she has to say, "Well. At least I know the answer. Asking for forgiveness. ...Invisibility cloak or no, I'll be heading there ASAP. ...Granted the cloak would be safest, but still, teh sooner I can break it the better." A pause. "And it sounds easier than the whoel crocodile teeth thing."

     And then Psalm walks in. And, Lute of course just stares at her. His eyes don't go off of either of the women for a moment. Especially as Caster is kissed on the cheek. He knows the two of them aren't really sisters, buuuut. Still, this raises a question, "...Are sisters /normally/ that close? ...Not that I'm complaining but."

     And he shrugs, "Well, you guys don't /have/ to help me. But it's really useful, and will get me out and fighting for the Confederate cause again sooner. So hey, it's all for the better if I'm doing that, right?"

Circe (701) has posed:
    Circe smiles when she senses her Master approaching, even before she starts speaking, and turns her head to accept the cheek kiss when it's offered, and return one of her own as she gives Psalm a brief one-armed hug without concern for all the wetness. "Well, technically I do not NEED to help him, obligations as a Confederate ally aside. But I had no reason not to help him, and I was interested in seeing what sort of curses he had gotten himself mixed up in anyway. He also makes good points about serving our best interests to have him not impaired by curses if he should be needed to fight on our behalf - or that of our faction."

    'Solanda' drifts behind Maggie and drapes her arms over her 'sister's shoulders. "I am as close with my sister as the nymphs and nereids of this island. I know not what is typical of sisterly love, only what my own experiences have taught me." She looks off to the side as the four nymphs return with a wooden loom and several porcelain jars filled with fabrics of various kinds and colors. "I am just glad you came to me when you did. I would not wish to see the level of severity if you had some two-bit charlatan remove them and then didn't take steps to prevent their resurgence. They would probably be worse the second time around. Less 'seeing dead cats' perhaps, and more 'having toes and fingers eaten off by them every night, only to have them regrow in time for it to repeat the next night'."

    Greek mythology was doing terrible punishments long before the idea of Hell came around. And here's a woman who comes from a time when 'mythology' was REAL. She probably has some ideas about curses for her enemies that no one here really wants to hear about. "I should get to work. Not to worry. I am swifter now than I was in... The past." When she was alive, she probably means.

    The Servant applies a small charge of prana to her Master's hair and makes it stick to her hands like static electricity and a balloon for several seconds before giggling to herself and hovering over to the loom as it's set down.

    The dreaded floofy hair curse! Insidious!

Psalm (181) has posed:
    Maggie looks to Lute and smiles. "I will ignore the obvious question and say that... Solanda's life was fraught with people who did not appreciate what was in front of them. And that she is my Servant and I am her Master and she is free to act as she wishes within the boundaries of that arangement. Also we are not sleeping with each other you buffoon." Woah where did the smile go?
    Oh wait there it is again, as Maggie's hair is assaulted and rendered poofy. "Baahaaff dammit, woman." She swats back at Solanda and sighs at Lute. "Also, am I not allowed to flirt with pretty ladies? You seem to do that quite a lot."

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute, at first, has an excited look on his face as Caster starts talking about how she has a relationship with her sister that she shares with all of the other women on the island. And then, his hopes are /immediately/ crushed by Psalm. Lute shrugs a little, though, answering Psalm first, "Well. I, for one, have no problem with you flirting with all of the women you want. Especially if you aren't greedy and keeping them all for yourself. Though do either of you at least flirt with /men/ on occasion? --I mean, not that /I/ flirt with men, but." Aww, poor Lute. He thinks he actually has a chance.

     Sadly, he has to focus on the Curse business a little bit. And he frowns as he has to talk about it. He shivers a bit, especially as Solanda talks, "...Well. I'm glad I went to someone really skilled at this, then. Seeing them was terrifying enough, having it escalate to actual physical torture would be... Bad. I mean I /did/ have a temporary solution that Serori was lending me, but. Making sure it didn't last is for the best."

     A sigh. He does giggle at the poofy hair, though. But, as Caster moves to work on the loom, he just leans forward to watch. He's still ogling both Caster and Psalm, but honestly, the whole fabric work thing is fascinating to him. He actually has toyed with sewing a fair amount, and even made plush toys of Pokemon when he was younger. So, yeah, it's relevant to his interests to see how she works.

Circe (701) has posed:
    "My fortunes in romance have been decidedly tragic in their failure rate," Caster replies as she sits at the loom, weaves some thread into it with practiced ease, and then says, "And I am not inclined to risk my heart again with a man. I have the ones who appreciate me right here. I suppose if there WAS a man out there who intrigued me I do have an unfortunate habit of not learning my lesson, but..." She looks directly at Lute through half-lidded eyes as she takes in his attention to her form and skimpy attire, and says, "The last time there was a conflict of jealousy between myself and a man, I turned him into a bird and his lover into a pillar of salt and every single one of his friends who came asking after him were also turned into various beasts." She smiles sultrily as she says, "How many women are you seeing again?"

    The message should be clear. She doesn't mind being admired, but she is the type who would wipe out every single person in a man's life and the man himself in the process out of sheer jealousy. And has done so before. "I should focus on weaving your cloak now~." she lilts as she sets to work.

    The loom begins to spin as she pumps the pedal with her foot. And boy does it ever spin. It's spinning so fast that it's more like a car tire going at hundreds of miles per hour than a wooden wheel. Blue light fills the blurred gaps between the struts as reams of fabric come practically pouring out. The nymphs standing nearby collect the glowing material that seems to shift color and hue visibly as it's looked at, from one spectrum to another.

    The Prana Burst-enhanced weaving only goes on for a couple dozen seconds before enough fabric to make three or four cloaks has been produced. Then the wheel slows to a stop very gradually. Solanda sighs happily. "I got a bit carried away, it appears." She laughs lightly and then rises from her seat and gestures for Lute to come closer. "Let me measure you."

Psalm (181) has posed:
    Psalm lets the words from her Servant ring out in the air, and then she smiles and leans forward on the chair Caster just vacated. Red hair dangles down in front of her, covering up the glimpse of the dragon tattoo at her neckline. "And that, dear boy, is why I am not engaging in such. I am more than comfortable being a Master and that is that."
    A cheery grin.

Lute (188) has posed:
     "...I'm seeing more women than you would tolerate."

     A single word comes into Lute's mind as he considers Circe's words. 'Yandere'. While there is a certain level of that he can tolerate, the whole 'cursing him, his lovers, and everyone who even asks about their location' is far more than he is willing to tolerate from a relationship. Yes, he will accept a certain level of crazy, but that pushes his limits.

     He glances at Psalm, nodding, "...Yes. Not pursuing her as more than just a friend or sister is certainly something that I understand. ...Is that how you treat men, too, or...?"

     He knows that Masters and Servants generally have /some/ similarities and he is really uncertain if this is true to this specific situation.

     He still watches in awe as she does her work. He knows Servants are supernaturally gifted, but still, this is a bit more than he expected. He didn't expect them to have super-powered weaving to the point of breaking reality. But, when called over, he stands up. He casually walks over with his hands in his pockets, taking them out only once he arrives. He /assumes/ she'll need him to spread his arms to get proper measurements, so he holds them straight out to both sides, to try and make things easier.

     "...I have to admit, sewing is a lot more practical of a talent than I usually see a Servant having. Most of them just usually have incredible combat skills."

Circe (701) has posed:
    Caster uses no measuring tape to take Lute's numbers, simply tracing him out with her fingertips quickly - almost as though they serve the same purpose. They go from arms to shoulders, across the shoulders themselves, down the sides, and from shoulders to knees. The whole time, she explains. "It was a hobby of mine. I lived on this island, grew up here. Almost all of my time was spent here. These days, it seems the attention span of children can not encompass a single activity. They must stop to 'text' every few minutes while they play a video game that itself has numerous features and activities all going on at once. They will 'tab out' to 'message' someone or 'gooble' something or change their 'playlist' on their 'youtube'."

    The redhead straightens up as she then finger-walks up the back of Lute's neck and starts tracing his skull with her hands, and says, "In my time, the capacity for indulging or cultivating a short attention span like that was simply vastly reduced. Minds wandered, I'm sure. Not everyone could focus themselves wholly. But the ability to gratify oneself in such a manner at the press of a button was non-existent."

    She seems to have the measure of Lute as she rests her hands on his shoulders and rubs away any remaining tension from having to deal with curses all day, as she says, "My point is that I had a lot of time to develop my skill at weaving and tailoring, and so I became very, very good at it. Meanwhile, fighting was never really my forte, so I am less proficient in that regard. Since it was something I was skilled at in life, my legend has made it more so." She lets go of Lute and pats him on the back as she wraps up by saying, "Flirtation is fine. I flirt occasionally myself. But to go beyond social play has always ended up with me miserable and other people suffering. Sooner or later, anyway. Only my dear Master really understands what I need and deserve." Circe beams a smile at the swimsuited Psalm.

    Then she seats herself on a cushion, folds her bare legs over each other, and waits for the fabric to be deposited in her lap by her nymph family.

Psalm (181) has posed:
    And there goes Circe, and Psalm just watches her feel up Lute for a while to geet his measurements. "You are the worst, Solanda. Goodness." She shakes her head, humms, and then the outfit she's wearing is different.

    Pretty much as different as you can get, as she's sitting there in front of Lute in rather comfortable looking blouse and skirt covering up most of her body. A little snort.

    She waits for Caster to get done with her teasing, before crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I chose you because your Story was ended unfairly, dear heart. That your Story was yet to be finished. And also because you're a woman after my own heart."
    She looks at Lute and smiles. "And so, here we are. Two old ladies with nothing to lose. Take us as we are, and believe that we shall do the same with you."

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute remains still as the fingers trace him. Yeah, he's pretty good at remaining calm in situations like this. But, an eyebrow is raised at Psalm. Calling her the worst, and shaking her head? What's that about? He honestly has no clue. He just ignores it otherwise, though. This is just a normal tailor measuring, afterall. What's terrible about that?

     He returns to his seat afterwards, and leans back in it rather casually. Yeah, with the curse mostly dispelled, he's pretty comfortable now. But, he ponders... the whole interactive world stopping productivity in the real world. And he laughs. "Well, as far as the technology taking away time to learn, that's... a mixed thing. As long as you don't obsess with, it can be a great tool. I can find information on anything almost instantly. So, say I wanna find a really rare Pokemon. I can find hints online. Buuut, I'm also not super obsessed with the technology. So, lets me focus on other things. Mostly work, but. Hey, I sew too, on occasion. And raise pets. And yes, I flirt constantly."

     He ponders flirting more, but for now, he'll just keep oggling. He's a bit dissapointed that Psalm is no longer wearing her swimsuit, but still. He can at least stare a bit. But, he glances at Psalm's face, grinning, "Well. I think I'll take you as you are, yeah. In fact I'd--- nevermind." Lute stops himself. He is /so tempted/ to turn this into more of a pickup line, but dear god he doesn't want to be cursed.

Circe (701) has posed:
    Having memorized Lute's measurements, Circe makes quick work of her weaving at this point, as she listens to what Psalm and Lute say. The fabric is stitched together with a single needle, as a nymph stands on either side of her, unrolling it in front of the Servant and into ther lap. Right before Lute's and Psalm's eyes, a cloak creeps into existence, being woven together so fast it almost seems like the garment is a living thing crawling across the cushions and velvet-rugged floor. It's done within a matter of moments, it seems, before Caster goes in for a second pass, adding embroidery, and gold thread, and magic rune work, and other touches and decorations.

    Then she leaps up, not even bothering to float and holds up the garment with an utterly pleased look on her face. The black cloak looks like something a rich and powerful Lord of some kind might wear. Something that says, 'I am important. Look at my cloak. It is the color of importance.' Speaking of its color... It doesn't seem to... Have a fixed colored. It keeps shifting color as it's looked at. It even has a hood.

    "Once worn, pull up the hood over your head and you will be rendered unseen to the unaided eye. Or at least so close to such as to make no difference. Just keep in mind it does not conceal your actions and your presence may leave traces. Foot prints will be hidden, and your voice will be muffled and altered to sound not like your own. But if you open a door or knock something over or otherwise take a deliberate or obvious action to influence the environment, the cloak can not hide such. Only passive effects as a result of travel."

    Circe leans to the side so that she can see Lute around the cloak she's holding up. "That means the sand of the desert should remain unmarred by your passage, but if you throw a rock, the sound of it will be noticed when it comes to rest. As much as it can be a limitation, you could also find ways to make it a useful tool."

    Once Lute has accepted it, Circe then focuses on Psalm and says, "Perhaps we should start looking into that telling that story further sometime soon. As much as I have enjoyed my homecoming, the worlds will not rest on their haunches just because we are." She has nothing to say about modern technology being useful. She's still horrified by what modern magecraft has deteriorated into and how scarce it is. That the contraptions that have replaced it could serve a purpose other than marking how different the world has become is not a concept she wishes to peruse at this stage of denial.

Psalm (181) has posed:
    Maggie just smiles a bit, watching the creation of the robe and cloak, before she murmurs quietly. "Also, do not expect the trick to work more than once against an Elite. Invisibility is a grand trick, but many have easy ways to detect such, despite the best efforts that we offer."

    "And Caster's story... we'll have to see how it unfolds once the War gets truely underway. I've not yet seen sign of the Others gathering just yet. But they will. And we will be ready." She grips her hand with the command seals on it, shoving a little thought down the connection to Caster.

    A sly grin at Lute though. "...Complete the statement, dear lad."

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute listens carefully to the instructions. Despite his impulsiveness, he knows that magical items usually have rules. And so, he commits the instructions to memory. He speaks, mostly for his own benefit of confirming the rules. "So, any active action will make the spell break. Passive actions will keep it steady. Alright, that makes sense." He pauses. He /really/ wants to note that it's just like an item in a video game. Like, when you cast an invisibility spell, and the moment you attack someone or open a door, it breaks. But he just can't bring himself to do so. It'd break Circe's heart, he feels.

     He takes it, and put it on. It rests gently against his labcoat. He actually appreciates that both pieces of clothing actually work together fairly well. He speaks, with awe, "This is... truly a beautiful work of art. Thank you."

     A grin, at both Circe and Psalm, "Well, if you need help finishing the story, I'd be willing to help. I have no idea what end you seek, though."

     And, Lute shrugs. Yeaaah, flirting with these two is probably a bad idea, but he might as well finish the thought, since Psalm is suggesting it.

     "...Well, I was thinking of a different means of taking you two, right now. I mean, honestly, I probably don't have to spell it out more than that, do I?" A wink.

     And a constant repeated thought in his head: Please don't kill me for that.

Circe (701) has posed:
    Circe huffs at Psalm's seemingly indicating she could not create something that offers true undetectability. "Well, yes! Invisibility is only the start! I could put together one of those bikinis of yours enchanted in such a way to always cause anyone about to notice you to be distracted by something else out of seeming coincidence! A true 'garment of improbability'! There are many ways I could surpass the limitations of mere visibility obfuscation!" She folds her arms under her chest and huffs again for good measure.

    Sniffing a bit, she says, "Yes, I suppose they will! I already sent our invitations to a meeting months ago to those who have identified themselves or are otherwise known to us! None responded! We will need to take action first if we are to make anything happen. They would rather shut themselves up in their little hidey holes and pretend the War is not happening. A pox on that, I say!"

    When Lute starts talking, Caster tones down her haughtiness to feel pleased with his appreciation of her work. Which is more than her MASTER has demonstrated! HUFF! "You are most welcome. It was good to work the loom again, however briefly." At the offer of help, she tacks on, "There are goals I seek to accomplish. Godhood is one of them, so that I might protect and hold dominion over all that I cherish and claim as mine, without busy bodies coming to interfere. Though the path to the end point is unclear, I have certain ideas. The Grail might serve as a crucial stepping stone."

    Circe pauses when Psalm suggests Lute complete his thought. And when he does, she just smiiiiiles at him without saying anything. What that smile means is up to interpretation.

Psalm (181) has posed:
    Psalm looks at Lute.
    She looks at Caster.

    She looks back at Lute. And -smiles-.

    "Have a good night, Lute. Hope the cloak works out for you." A wink, and she stands. "Right, it's my night to make dinner, isn't it, dear heart?" A look to Caster, and she walks past Lute, patting him on the shoulder as she goes, heading for the kitchens.

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute nods at Caster, "Well, I'll help you claim what you want. The Grail, Godhood, whatever. Just ask, okay?"

     And then he smiles at Caster as she smiles. And he looks at Psalm. Oh man. OH MAN. He knew his luck was good, but.

     And then Psalm utterly crushes his hope with a few words.

     Lute makes a quiet, defeated sound. "...See you two later." His entire tone is dripping with despair. But, he turns, and starts making his way out. Glancing over his shoulder back at Psalm entering the kitchen, and at Circe, as he leaves.