Scene #9407: Beneath the New Moon

Owner	Pose
Foundation Scions	Midnight is a quiet hour even in a compound as frantic as the St. Pavlov Foundation's Headquarters- not silent, but with only the glow of recessed lamps instead of the many eerie ceiling-height slit windows, the echo of its marble halls rings different. The Fountation's ornate library, checkered-floor and sprawling bookcases, isn't usually visited at such a late hour, but the nature of Matilda's divinations demand that the joint appointment happen at such an odd time. Matilda has been hard at work piecing together the necessary environment for her divination rituals- the study chamber she'd reserved, as bleak and gray as the rest of the library outside, doesn't natively have the silk curtains she'd strung up high above on an overly-tall, thin window, nor tasseled cushions for the hard wooden chairs, nor the ornate incense brazier atop a tablecloth that also certainly shouldn't be on the reading table it covers. Dull-toned wall-mounted lights, such as those out in the rest of the library, have been turned off in favor of a dozen and a half scented candles- sandalwood and eucalyptus, hazy and cold. It must have taken Matilda an astronomical number of trips to do the decoration- not to mention perilously getting on tip-toes atop stacked chairs to set things on high shelves, and defuse smoke sensors (no doubt out of some past mistake). She no doubt had to scramble to finish all of these arrangements in the time left before Lilian and Sonetto arrive, sneaking out past the sleepy staffers holding down the Library fort and spending long-hours studying, out across the Foundation's campus to her own dormitory for the materials, and quietly sprinting back with arms comically full. The great Matilda Bouanich is nothing if not industrious! When the time comes for her two clients to be ushered into the study room, Matilda looks supremely pleased with herself. Normally housing enough chairs for a large study group to sit around, Matilda has left only three around the room's table- one opposite two, so Lilian and Sonetto have to sit across from her. It's genuinely cozy- though how much of it is her usual level of seriousness, and how much may be going over the top on account of Sonetto's presence, is hard to intuit without another reference point. In the center of the table is a shiny silver stand for something spherical: obviously, Matilda's crystal ball, but it has yet to be unpacked and placed. "Bienvenue, bonsoir! Ms. Rook, Investigator Sonetto, seat yourselves at your pleasure. The preparations are nearly complete and the Spring Tide is nearing its height. We may not have the light of the Moon to lend us clarity, but in her stead, unstoppable Saturn, brave Mars, and keen Mercury hold vigil over secrets yet to share. Ms. Rook? You are seeking to find someone lost? As you were first to accept tonight's booking, I must of course offer the first reading to you- unless it is the mutual wish for whatsoever Sonetto's query is to be first..?" Matilda clears her throat, looking between the two. "Ah- ahem, either way... we can start at any moment." Dipping down fully to her side, Matilda drags a bag-shrouded bowling-ball mass up from out of view, and unveils the glittering quartz orbuculum from within. In the surrounding candlelight, it glitters like she's trapped a constellation within it.
Timekeeper	It's late at night, and though the Timekeeper is only just now becoming energized for productivity, the Timekeeper's assistant is... just a little sleepy. She's been hard at work all day-- naturally-- and though much of that work was routine Foundation business, she added extra work for herself by fretting about the meeting rather than resting. One of those methods of fretting was over her professionalism: how does Sonetto, a Watchman (by association), face two Paladins Chevaliers with her spine straight, when she's implicitly betrayed one of them and the other one is Matilda Bouanich who is also there? The answer that she comes up with, is presentation and preparedness. Earlier in the morning (missing Matilda entirely by coincidence), Sonetto went through the Foundation library in order to memorize a list of a dozen talking points, locations to visit, and works of literature to bring up after the divination. This, is nearly normal at a high level of anxiety. The choice that Sonetto makes in order to shore up the professionalism of her image is, however, not at all normal. Sonetto's parade uniform is an elaborate costume, unique for her rank and the tinsel of ribbons and medals accompanying her achievements. She's even done her hair differently to suit the beret, and has her sash across her chest, though mercifully she's left the baton back in her room. Like a fucking alien, Sonetto walks through the library wearing this getup at midnight, completely silent. She's reapplied light makeup for this, but it isn't enough to conceal that she's so sleepy. Sonetto opens the door carefully so that it doesn't creak, familiar enough with the library to know which private rooms need which treatment. She peeks her head inside and, seeing that Matilda is the only one there, makes a weak smile before entering the study room. Her expression becomes less anxious as she takes in the room, softening into a soothed sort of enrichment at the care put into the surroundings. Score one for Matilda! "Hello, Matilda. My apologies for intruding.You have put in quite a lot of effort into preparing this room... surely it would have been easier to perform the divination in your own room, but I appreciate you accomodating me." Sonetto, when told to sit at her pleasure... does not sit. She remains awkwardly standing in the corner of the room, about forty percent of the way to assuming parade posture with her right arm gradually drifting behind her back. She can't sit before Lilian does! That's just natural. "Please, Lilian, you go first. It is your divination that was the cause for Matilda to prepare all of this so thoroughly, and... my question is not as noble as attempting to find a lost person."
Lilian Rook	Lilian has spent the entire day from noon onwards trying to think of excuses with which to welch on the divination. One that she certainly hadn't been thinking of when she should have been. Reminding herself that Laplace and the Foundation are two separate organizations that are only incidentally working together, and that the Foundation is the one filled with all the people she likes, is of some help. Turning every possible rationalization over in her head and finding no way to wiggle them past the basic pseudomoral principles that she's mostly stuck to for years does a very large part of it as well. Imagining Matilda sitting in a dark room by herself, making up increasingly implausible reasons for Lilian to have not shown up is the MVP of the evening, though. It could even be said that her stop at exchanges to evaluate computing equipment, medicinal compounds, and a quote on vehicle parts, is solely due to the magnificent charisma of the great Matilda Bouanich! And her enterprising willingness to charge 300 wizard coins a head. Lilian is so almost late that it'd be heartstopping if she didn't simply cheat her way across the campus to make up for it. Sonetto being there slightly before her seems to surprise her, but in a weird way where she looks at Matilda first before saying anything. "Noble, is it?" she says, closing the door behind her with a hint of unease, ostensibly about being in the room at all. "You're quick to say so. For all you know, I could be taking advantage of Miss Bouanich to hunt down this person and kill them. Half the tme people are lost, it's because they're running away, you know." She starts to laugh, then seems to suddenly remember something, clears her throat, and says "My apologies." very quietly. She seats herself while looking apologetically at Sonetto's many pretty badges. "Is that . . . traditional?" she asks, now trying to change the subject. "As a dress uniform. It's very formal." Lilian, meanwhile, showed up for the hour, in a cozy sweater she was probably wearing at home while drinking coffee as Tamamo dozed off. You can tell it's a day off because she painted her nails with that starfield pattern. 'Ah- ahem, either way... we can start at any moment.' "You've done an excellent job, Matilda." she says, staring especially at the curtains, until the ~orbaculum~ comes out, which earns her first real look of appreciation despite getting a glimpse before. "Goodness. It looks entirely different at night." She glances once back at Sonetto, then up to Matilda again. "If that suits Miss Sonetto, then I have no complaints. What do I have to do? Is there any specific ritual I have to perform on my part? I'm a little lost."
Foundation Scions	Matilda almost stands up herself, seeing Sonetto walk in in her parade uniform. She's lucky that the light is dim enough that reds wash out of skin, as the unexpected appearance of Crush In A (Different) Formal Decorative Outfit blindsides her. To herself, "Did this coincide so close with parade rehearsal..? Quelle chance..." Matilda coughs, blinks, and blinks again. "Sonetto! I must offer my compliments onto your apparel- this is, after all, a most splendid occasion for such regality, and it so befitting... erm- as I have said, welcome." Gun to her head this weirdo couldn't say 'you look nice' in fewer than ten words. 'Surely it would have been easier to perform the divination in your own room,' "Hmph- of course it is no trouble here, as well- wherever I am, I can ensure a proper and precise foreseeing. But, ah, of course, should you need consult on prophecy some future time, then I, Matilda Bouanich, would happily receive you in my personal quarters. Perhaps once the Moon has once again waxed to full?" Matilda's head turns, when the study room's door opens once more and floods the chamber in light. Pleased, "Ms. Rook, I hope you travelled most unbothered!" Matilda made sure the warp-gate staff knew she'd be coming, at least- "And, er- as it is nearly midnight, and will have been five days on the turn of the hour, I figured I may as well deliver to you these." In front of where Lilian makes to sit, Matilda puts down the stack of application forms to the Tridéag Association, and slides them across the ornate tablecloth. 'I could be taking advantage of Miss Bouanich to hunt down this person and kill them.' "Say again-?" Lilian's laugh dispels the momentary confusion that flashes across Matilda's face. "Ah, no, it is most certain that you would need to find this answer for benevolent reasons- I know this to be true!" Matilda hums, and dusts off the tablecloth- it isn't dusty, but it's a final-feeling act of preparation. "Ms. Rook shall be first, it is decided! Convenient, that we are able to begin on-time..." 'Goodness. It looks entirely different at night.' "Mm-hmm! You should see it lit by the purest of moonbeams... ah, but tonight is not a night for such!" With a soft clack, two-handed, Matilda sets it into the silver stand. "The ritual, you can leave unto me, Ms. Rook. Guidance and questions by yours truly, I shall seek on your behalf the path to this person of interest. As I prepare the incense... we shall need a name to call, and if possible, any trace of personal affects." Softly humming, Matilda scatters a few resinous bits of frankincense and myrrh into her brazier, dull clattering sounds ringing loud in the somber atmosphere. "Fuego burn," Matilda whispers, a standardized arcane skill incantation, and the resin beads sizzle into embers, immediately filling the room with church-like scents. It could be a trick of the low light, but in the smoke, tiny motes of silver twinkle like stars. "You shall look with me, deep into the fog of the crystal ball, and tell me of this person, by whatever means you can. Clarity begets clarity. Oh, boule de cristal, montre-moi..." It's tangible, as Matilda's under-breath words fade into background noise, that the spring tide's pull is shifting the ambient patterns of arcane flux in the room- or, more universally, the room prickles with magic. The ball, a moment ago beatifically glittery, is now filled with gloomy fog- which needs direction to pierce through, by Lilian's answers.
Timekeeper	"I must offer my compliments onto your apparel- this is, after all, a most splendid occasion for such regality, and it so befitting..." "Ah, then it is appropriate?" Sonetto, rather than being complimented per se, sounds vaguely relieved. She mumbles to herself, straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders. "So I did choose correctly...." "You're quick to say so. For all you know, I could be taking advantage of Miss Bouanich to hunt down this person and kill them. Sonetto's eyes widen at Lilian, and then she shakes her head. "Um... I do not believe you would do such a thing, Dame Rook. If you were, then I am certain such a person would be a dangerous criminal who has been evading justice. I have no reason to doubt your intentions." Sonetto takes the cue when Lilian laughs, loosening her awkwardly confused expression. Sonetto wouldn't make jokes about hunting down and killing someone, but what does she know! Now that Lilian's seated, Sonetto smoothes her skirt and sits down in the chair beside her, spine ramrod straight and distanced from the back of the chair. "As a dress uniform. It's very formal." Yay! Sonetto got complimented on her outfit choice! She nods, smiling, though she doesn't draw attention to any of the medals herself-- that's bad manners! "It is for ceremonies, high-profile public functions, and parades." Which one is this?? Sonetto does, genuinely, seem raptly fascinated by Matilda's preparations for divination. Once past the solemn self-flagellation of insisting on her own lesser importance than Lilian and getting caught up in relative status, Sonetto eases into the role of an enthusiastic intellectual peer, hands clasped in her lap as she breaks her ninety degree posture to lean slightly forwards. "But, ah, of course, should you need consult on prophecy some future time, then I, Matilda Bouanich, would happily receive you in my personal quarters." "I cannot think of what it would be, but... if I am in need of a divination, then I will be sure to book in advance." So that Matilda is spared the work of setting all of this up in a different room, of course. "You should see it lit by the purest of moonbeams... ah, but tonight is not a night for such!" Sonetto, attention captured by the orbaculum, murmurs to herself in recitation, "'She is thin and lustreless, but I love her'...." Besides that, though, she remains silent for the divination so as to not disrupt the process. She even softens her breathing to inaudibility, absorbing the carefully tuned arcane atmosphere like meditation.
Lilian Rook	'And, er- as it is nearly midnight, and will have been five days on the turn of the hour, I figured I may as well deliver to you these.' "I expected as much." Lilian says, with a certain tone about her. One that's a little hard to read, in that it's very neutral without having any reason to be, and without any less energy than praise. It's actually something Xion told other members of Trídéag before, once. It's not immediately clear that it means 'good job', but maybe a little more so that it means something to someone who is used to dealing with the Vertinesque. She does, after all, allow herself a very faint smile when she stands the papers up, leafs through them to skim, and taps them against the table to straighten them out. "Provided it all checks out, we'll have your examination on Monday and have your crest and equipment issued the day after." She glances surreptitiously at Sonetto. "Seeing as it's plausible the Foundation may not allow it on-grounds, I'll assign you quarters as well. As a formality, of course; you won't be required to stay in them. And I'll make certain they're otherwise empty." 'I know this to be true!' "Guilty as charged." she says, filing them away into her bag. With Sonetto standing up, she gets a glimpse of impressively neatly organized dividers and folders for just such things, alongside two small books, a stack of her own papers, and an indeterminate number of vials and pouches and little stones. 'Convenient, that we are able to begin on-time...' "You'll find that I'm never late for anything." Lilian says. The last thing she does with her bag before putting it down is to retrieve something wrapped in lambskin fabric, then set it out on the table. Once again, a mysterious micro-smile comes to her at the little incantation. Thoughts about 'attack callouts' and 'naming spells' come to her more fondly than just remembering past arguments, here. 'As I prepare the incense... we shall need a name to call, and if possible, any trace of personal affects.' "Ash." Lilian says. "They don't have a last name. I've checked as best I can." she adds, itself a bold thing to assert, considering the lengths she herself once went to. Unwrapping the packed item, she reveals it as a shard of what looks like polarized glass, too oddly curved to fit into anything practical, tinted-transparent on one side, iridescent blue-black on the other side like a beetle shell. There's a flat seam where it obviously joined into something else, at the bottom of which a small quantity of dried blood has collected into letters etched with a knifepoint. She hesitates, slightly, before pushing it over to Matilda. "Careful with the edges." she says. 'You shall look with me, deep into the fog of the crystal ball, and tell me of this person, by whatever means you can. Clarity begets clarity.' Lilian takes a deep breath, closes her eyes to remember, and then, indulging, stares into the foggy crystal. "They're . . . a little younger than me. Much taller. American? But not . . ." She shakes her head. It doesn't take Matilda telling her to know that she didn't ask for an APB. Especially not for someone whose face she's barely seen. "Sorry. I wish I knew as much about them as they know about me. They seemed so invested, and I was only curious. So . . ."
Lilian Rook	The process of recalling, for some reason, feels as if it erases Sonetto from the room. Perhaps even Matilda, except as the crystal ball itself. She seems to relax in some inarticulable way when she isn't looking at anyone's face. A decrease in mental load. ". . . You're looking for someone with no roots. No family who'll claim them, but also, the roots cut out from under their ancestors a long, long time ago. Someone who sees no real value in things as they are. They know, or can see, or imagine, something that humans should have, but which we can't even imagine; a sort of spark that we should naturally all have, and it erodes them, bit by bit, day by day, to be unable to find it in others." "Proud. Pushy. Ill-mannered. Nihilistic. Totally dissociated from the very concept of consequences." she speeds up, then slows down again. "Quietly desperate. Lonely, I think. Someone who's travelled everywhere and hardly ever been noticed. It's almost like they're sheltered, but rebellious at the same time. They let people use them, knowingly, easily, because they can't be hurt. They carry around an odd heirloom-- a makeshift spear. And hardly ever show their face. And--" Lilian traces out a motion with her hands in slow motion. Manipulating some invisible object, across from Matilda. One hand holds where Matilda is, and the other comes back to her upper ribs on the left side. "An injury? Or something wrong with them. Here. I don't know how far it goes. That's the feeling I got."
Timekeeper	"I figured I may as well deliver to you these." "Provided it all checks out, we'll have your examination on Monday and have your crest and equipment issued the day after." Sonetto watches the exchange of papers, and the promise of induction into some sort of Paladins-associated organization-- with a crest! A crest!-- with sad lonely puppydog eyes. Her attention lingers for a few seconds longer than 'conspicuous', then she surreptitiously readjusts her posture to be exactly vertical in her chair, folds her hands over each other in her lap, and politely places her gaze to some other corner of the room. If she had dog ears, they would be swiveled over towards Lilian and Matilda, though. It's not as if Sonetto minds having her presence erased from perception, not in this situation. While faded into the background, her mental ticker of the presumed morality of the person Lilian describes oscillates up and down across a linear scale of 'good' vs 'bad'. As a romantic, Sonetto can't hear about anyone being uprooted and alone without family without a pang of heartfelt sympathy, which means 'good'. 'Ill-mannered' and 'dissociated from consequences' obviously means 'bad'. Lonely and unnoticed nudges it back towards good, and the rest hardly registers. Her end arithmetic is that this is a person with many flaws, who nonetheless will be saved by Lilian because she's saintlike in her benevolence even towards delinquents. Sonetto feels quietly triumphant that her assessment of Lilian's intent with the divination was, in the end, correct.
Foundation Scions	'So I did choose correctly....' "Erm- of course! Of course you did, and, in fact, nothing you could have chosen would have been mistaken-" Uh-oh, that invalidates the affirmation!! Emergency! Emergency! "-because, of course, of the skill at fashion you have often demonstrate..?" Matilda looks dazed. 'Seeing as it's plausible the Foundation may not allow it on-grounds, I'll assign you quarters as well.' Excited Matilda noise! "I- I see! That is most diligent a consideration." ''She is thin and lustreless, but I love her'' Surely, Sonetto is referencing a poem on the topic of the moon- but Matilda pauses for a solid moment, just to ponder whether in a million years that kind of comment could ever be turned towards herself. Do your best, Matilda... . . . 'Careful with the edges.' Matilda picks up on the hesitation- it's fundamental that closely-tied affects hold strong sentiments, and handing them over even momentarily, is often and understandably hard. Matilda takes it with cupped hands, holding it gently, shifting its angle in the half-light by just a few degrees, and then, all without having even once held it firmly, offers the shard back to Lilian. Whatever she needed from it, she's gotten. "Thank you. That should certainly help, if they are to be found." For but a moment fog within the orb takes on a slightly different hue, no longer clouds-at-night grey, but polarized the same as the shard. Matilda makes a pleased noise- a little hum, but her eyes stay focused deep within the quartz. "Cut free and adrift... no, you are right to say such, and then some. Like they are floating, and..." For brief moments, the scattering fog within the orb takes on patterns of wind- sea breeze, buffeting tree leaves, embers caught in updrafts. "Once steady-moving towards something, but stalled, as a breeze can on its own eddies. Not just lonely, but perhaps alone. That nuance, I think, may matter. Joyless and wanting..." Matilda cocks her head to the side, staring deeper, and- unexplained, leans over to grab up a few different sachets of incense herbs- basil leaf, jasmine flower, and after longest consideration, elecampane root. She scatters them into the brazier, and the orb's fog shifts once again. "This is most fortuitous a time, Ms. Rook. Unrooted as they are, prideful as they are... the highest tides bring with them a surge to the shore, and the current they reach for..." '..and it erodes them, bit by bit, day by day, to be unable to find it in others.' "Ms. Rook? Is there a reason they have to hold a cord towards you?" The fog in the orb twists, coalescing into a very few, fracture-thin spiderwebs- it almost looks like the quartz has cracked, but the threads keep moving, winding forwards some, back a bit less, forwards, all vectored towards Lilian, and little else any other way. "I am certain that they do, either way- and in that spirit, it is one that feels, to me, like it should be pulled. To you, and through you- perhaps, a message to allow yourself to be found by them? Is that, erm, something you believe possible? If it is not- perhaps make it so." Matilda wrinkles her nose up, and, almost uncharacteristically in this moment, giggles- "And they surely aren't in America." How she knows this goes un-elaborated on. Incense still fills the room with its embrace, as Matilda leans away from the orb with a slightly sad sigh. "Is that helpful, Ms. Rook? And, Sonetto..? Might I ask the topic of your query..?"
Lilian Rook	'Um... I do not believe you would do such a thing, Dame Rook. If you were, then I am certain such a person would be a dangerous criminal who has been evading justice. I have no reason to doubt your intentions.' "You're terribly sweet." Lilian says, her smile persistently small. "Though I've yet to kill even one of those. And this person . . . perhaps qualifies as 'evading justice', but not a criminal." 'It is for ceremonies, high-profile public functions, and parades.' Lilian has no idea how to approach that, so she says "I'm certain Tamamo would love to see it as well." ''She is thin and lustreless, but I love her'....' Huh. Of course, she doesn't miss Sonetto's expression when Matilda hands her the papers. Not during the divination itself, perhaps, but it'd be hard to miss a stare that wistfully soggy in the moments leading up to it. A far corner of Lilian's mind thinks about teasing her about it, as punishment for following Vertin to the Watch, and a slightly nearer one competes with it for something productive instead. 'Once steady-moving towards something, but stalled, as a breeze can on its own eddies. Not just lonely, but perhaps alone. That nuance, I think, may matter. Joyless and wanting...' Lilian has precisely zero reason to be skeptical about Matilda's work. Her own family had previously been known as seers for generations, advising ancient kings at times. She has yet to find any reason to lower her opinion of the SPDM's magical education, and Matilda has only ever been strictly competent. She came in here with utmost confidence. So . . . 'This is most fortuitous a time, Ms. Rook. Unrooted as they are, prideful as they are... the highest tides bring with them a surge to the shore, and the current they reach for..."' Why does she suddenly feel prickly and particular about each sentence? The imagery is clear and relevant. The words are all correct. Perhaps they could be the result of cold reading, but why would she even think that? Lilian sits with a burning, standoffish hesitance that Matilda could tell her anything about Ash at all, and an equal discomfort at why she thinks why divination can't possibly describe them alone. 'Ms. Rook? Is there a reason they have to hold a cord towards you?' "Oh. You meant it." The words slip out before Lilian fully grasps them. Her eyes go wide, in the split second before she says, "--Ah, truth be told, I'd secretly worried that this particular case was beyond your capabilities; as it has been for many. I'd thought that it couldn't hurt to try, but . . . you've really impressed me, Miss Bouanich." Lilian clears her throat, and her eyes fall back down to the orb, or rather, the converging lines within, and she quiets. "It's hard to not hold onto that line which ties children to the moon." 'And they surely aren't in America.' 'Is that helpful, Ms. Rook?' She looks a little dazed at the followup, but doesn't seem to possess the confidence to press Matilda on something that specific. "Intensely so." Lilian says. She sounds just a little breathless. A few, smaller realizations pile up in sequence. "I'm surprised you didn't even--" Nope. Leave that bag closed. "No, it was quite clear. It'll be difficult to do, but not to accomplish. And I'll tell you how it goes." She looks over at Sonetto. Apologetic-evasive. "Later. At a better time." She almost vacates her seat out of habit, before remembering there are three. "Thank you for your patience, Sonetto." says Lilian, wrapping up the helmet shard again. "You've been awfully considerate. Especially considering how busy you must have been today." she says, judging entrely by her exhaustion.
Foundation Scions	'Oh. You meant it.' A bit of surprise like Lilian's isn't unusual, to Matilda. Even amongst the Foundation, so heavily to do with arcanist functions, trust in the findings of diviners is not often absolute. Matilda's expression shows that she notices- lips slightly pursed, eyes a little more narrowed. It's just a momentary look of slight-disappointment, though, and it is very quickly eclipsed by her boastful usual. '--Ah, truth be told, I'd secretly worried that this particular case was beyond your capabilities; as it has been for many.' Matilda crosses her arms, with a prideful little hmph- and shifts how she's sitting, as if she's somehow gotten sore or tired, in the interim moments since starting her divination. "It is, of course, my utmost pleasure to dispel such an illusion- the exceptional Matilda Bouanich is not one to fail at such an important task, or the client would only face half of the fee." She shifts the same way, again. "And it feels important, Ms. Rook," Matilda says, back to that softer, more reverent tone she took while watching the visions within the orb. "I hope to hear that it went well, sometime."
Timekeeper	"I'd thought that it couldn't hurt to try, but . . . you've really impressed me, Miss Bouanich." Sonetto makes a proud little smile on Matilda's behalf. Even though it's been years since they've been in school together, Sonetto was always, frustratingly, the kind of student who encouraged the best efforts of her classmates. She was stiffer back then, but as she's softened some over time, so has the habit, and in an environment so much like an arcane test, she can't help it resurfacing. Just outside Lilian's cone of vision, Sonetto gives Matilda an encouraging nod, orange hair bouncing just a tiny bit. "And, Sonetto..? Might I ask the topic of your query..?" "... Ah! Of course." Slightly distracted by the warm feelings of a peer having done well on a test, Sonetto takes a few seconds to collect herself to respond. In doing so, she places her (long white gloved) hand on her chest and breathes in and out, lowering her voice into a stuffy-nosed solemn monologue. "My query is... of a personal nature, rather than that of the world. I would like to know... how to neither betray my loyalty to the Foundation, nor my loyalty to Timekeeper, and to uphold my ideals in my future circumstances." There's a short pause where it seems like she might be done, but as she continues, it's like Lilian's disappeared from the room for her in turn. She bows her head and balls up the hem of her skirt in her fists, low and heavy with emotion like she's confessing. "Timekeeper is always acting so... distantly and resolutely, in pursuit of goals I cannot understand. I would like to stay by their side through all of their decisions and help them without hesitation, but... I am afraid. That this time may end like last time did. The worst mistake of my life... was to not stand against them, and even though they are wiser, more thoughtful, stable, gentle, and careful, I am... uncertain, of how to forge a path with no regrets."
Lilian Rook	'the exceptional Matilda Bouanich is not one to fail at such an important task, or the client would only face half of the fee.' Lilian isn't totally sure that's a joke, but she laughs anyways, because it's funny. It is, in fact, the exact sort of remark she'd make herself, to defuse tension about something around somebody that she kind of likes. "I really do apologize, Matilda." she says, once she revs down from giggling. She doesn't seem to notice her own back and forth switch to first and last name. "It's just that I've had plenty of outside help working at this problem for a while now, and I've found that people misapprehend the shape and nature of it almost immediately. Only one has been halfway reliable, and she's . . . a bit of a disaster, so I suppose I was wary of the idea that you'd get it at all, never mind so easily." 'And it feels important, Ms. Rook' "Well, it's either a petty, complicated relationship between two eccentrics who don't know how to quit, or it's of apocalyptic significance to the entire world." Lilian says, waving it off with her hand. "I'll call you when I find out." 'I would like to know... how to neither betray my loyalty to the Foundation, nor my loyalty to Timekeeper, and to uphold my ideals in my future circumstances.' At that exact moment, Lilian decides that she can't bring herself to bully Sonetto for her allegiances. At least, not all that much. She withholds the sigh of resignation she feels building up, because it'd send the wrong message. 'Timekeeper is always acting so... distantly and resolutely, in pursuit of goals I cannot understand.' 'even though they are wiser, more thoughtful, stable, gentle, and careful, I am... uncertain, of how to forge a path with no regrets.' "So that's what it's like." Lilian says, very quietly, for an intended audience of herself.
Foundation Scions	'My query is... of a personal nature, rather than that of the world.' Matilda's head nods up and down, small little indicators that she's focused in on Sonetto's question. Matilda Bouanich will get an A+ in active listening! 'But... I am afraid.' Matilda looks sympathetically pained, as Sonetto continues, and at the investigator's next sentence, pained just on her own. It's easy enough for her to assume what Sonetto means, but this isn't the time to discuss- it's a time of consult and assistance. "... I see. The New Moon's tides are a time of finding things lost... Sonetto, you feel as you are, in this way, lost and astray, following a path you trust, but still scared of the woods it winds?" Matilda's hand goes to the crystal ball, palm barely touching it. The mist inside shifts drastically, reminiscent of her words, twisting paths and murk. "Sonetto, if you would please place your hand to the ball..? Montre-moi l'avenir, et les risques il contenit..." From murk, the vision twists- fading fog turns gentler, like soft green woods, accelerating at Sonetto's touch. Orange-golden streams of light, possibly just refractions of the surrounding candleflames, light parts of the sphere as would forest sunspots. "Hm... fear, there seems to be no similar reason to fear. I... know of what worries you, that hope by which to stop catastrophe, but, ah, pardon the metaphor, but, nothing yet lurks by the path's wayside. That may not put at ease, but, that is what I see. There is, at the very least, time enough to contemplate and observe." Matilda tilts her head in a little indicator towards the orb, and leans in closer- prompting Sonetto to as well, in some hope that it may reassure. "... That path, it can only be your trust in Timekeeper Vertin. It seems that, in following her, and with her to follow, even if the environs through which you travel are ill-fitting, that which you are inclined may still fall along the path." Matilda pulls her hand away, gently. "... Sonetto, I should not be one to say such a thing- but perhaps, Vertin's decision is not so disastrous as it seems?" Matilda looks hesitant to try and interpret more- and glances between Sonetto and Lilian. "I, of course, disagree with it, and cannot approve of it, but... what I see within the crystal, it is only signs of reassurance, that you may be less cast astray than thought. The suggestion of middle grounds, and unimpeded purpose, it is there." Much less comfortable this time, Matilda asks, "Is that, by any means, to your satisfaction?"
Lilian Rook	'... Sonetto, I should not be one to say such a thing- but perhaps, Vertin's decision is not so disastrous as it seems?' Lilian chooses that as the time to let out the resignation that's been building up in her. The sigh is a light one, though she still closes her eyes and shakes her head a moment. "I can't support that decision either. But I believe, at least, that Vertin merely misapprehends the nature of the Watch, and is not susceptible to being seduced or perverted by it. Whether or not the Timekeeper will find anything of use there, I feel I can see clearly enough even without a crystal ball, but I'm somewhat relieved to know that . . ." Well, she did argue with Vertin about it in public. Loudly. ". . . Sonetto isn't likely to be forced to go against her nature." Lilian says."It's such a perfectly good nature, after all. It'd be a shame." She tries to make it sound like levity, to some effect. "You've placed your faith in someone more upright than I expected." Lilian says to Sonetto. She makes a little show of looking pensive, even though she's riffling through papers she already had in her bag under her fingernail. Placing it in her lap, she sorts through until she finds a copy of the same forms Matilda had to fill out (clearly, to reference them against, and not at all because she planned this!), and slides them across the table to Sonetto. The Association's crest-- the thirteen suggested by the sword and half-lily against the crescent moon-- is in the top rightcorner on each page. "Keep hold of these. In case you change your mind." she says, knowing full well where Sonetto's mind is. "I have the operational authority to hire personnel outside the Paladins; the City is hardly full of them, after all. One or two Watchmen are on my payroll, and . . . well, I won't be a bother about it." Lilian backs off right before voicing a Positive Character Judgement. "Oh, and before I forget--" Next, with considerably more gentleness, Lilian removes one of the two books, along with a velvet wrap, and a silk rope bind. Instead of a bookmark, it comes with a sheaf of ostensibly handwritten notes half as thick as the book is. "If you don't return this in the condition you got it, I'll put a curse on you. I mean it." Lilian says. "And that reminds me!" she says, as if it had any bearing whatsoever; rather, Lilian just wants to put a punctuation mark on the exchange before Sonetto has unimpeded time for second thoughts. "I owe you three hundred, don't I? It just so happens I was able to work out the papers to convert for these early today." Lilian announces ever so proudly, retrieving a coinpurse she picked up in Elibe that she never got to use in the end, now satisfyingly occupied by jangling hard currency. "I felt it would have been improper to put it on credit, even with extenuating circumstances." Clearly brand new to even knowing what the demarcations look like, Lilian tries to compensate for unfamiliarity with haste, quickly drawing coin after coin and shuffling them together like cards, grouping them in the vague direction of not handing Matilda a sack of pennies-- then she curses under her breath. tA coin clatters to the table surface at the same time Lilian puts her thumb against her lips by reflex. Breathing through her nose, she glares at the inanimate object and mutters something that involves "--you perfidious little Judas--" out loud. She stops, abruptly, and forgets to blink. Wordlessly, she retrieves a second, identical coin, with greater care, and slides it towards Matilda. She then moves to retrieve the other, sliding it back towards herself. Her eyes are fixed down on the tablecloth. As if she could still call it a defective item as long as no one challenges her. As long as she holds her breath.
Timekeeper	"Sonetto, if you would please place your hand to the ball..?" Sonetto nods, silent after her request. She holds her hand to the orb, just barely not touching Matilda's, and closes her eyes for the rest of Matilda's instructions. When her hand doesn't adjust to the cold of the crystal ball, she opens them again, gazing into the mist with serious intensity. She seems to be bracing for what she'll see rather than looking forwards to it, but either way, she's fully committed herself to the visions with Matilda's guidance. "There is, at the very least, time enough to contemplate and observe." Sonetto watches the movements of the mist with rapt focus, scanning them like she can pry the specific instructions for her future carved in stone. Guided by Matilda, she murmurs aloud her own feelings alongside the visions, lulled into stream of consciousness expression. "The path... I feel tired but fulfilled when traveling it, as if I have completed a difficult task, but... I am uneasy when it twists out of my sight. If I consider stepping off or turning back, then... I feel confused and lost. Each patch of light... I cannot tell them apart, but only one of them guides me forwards." "... That path, it can only be your trust in Timekeeper Vertin." Sonetto's murmuring continues on in response, straying abstractly poetic. "The path winds around a lake, but I cannot tell what temperature the water ir or what lies beneath the surface. It feels... inviting, even if I can only sit aside and watch its waves lap against the shore." ". . . but... what I see within the crystal, it is only signs of reassurance, that you may be less cast astray than thought." "Less astray..." Sonetto hasn't pulled herself out of her close focus on the crystal ball's visions as Matilda has yet. She slides her hand down the orbaculum as if petting it gently, face lit by the glow of the magic. "Is it so easy...?"
Timekeeper	"Is that, by any means, to your satisfaction?" Sonetto startles and only looks away from the orb at Matilda's prompting, drawn into the ritual as she was. As rarely as Sonetto ever does so towards Matilda, she doesn't actually have any compunctions against showering her with the effusive praise that she gives others, she just doesn't really think it's relevant most of the time. Now though, being in an environment cultivated for beauty and magic jolts it out of her, especially having just derived whatever reassurance she got from the vision, diverting her away from answering Matilda's question at first. "Ah, it is clear to see how much care you put into your art as a diviner, Matilda. The Matilda that I am familiar with from school is often silly and cheerful, but..." Sonetto looks at her with a sentimental smile that's more 'reassuring' than 'lovestruck', but, that's still a smile! In her direction! "... I like the Matilda that can be serious as well. It is like you are lit up with the light from your own passion, brightening with whichever face you choose to show. The moon suits you, I think." With that out of her system, the actual topic of the divination still can't rest fully comfortably on her shoulders. As much comfort in her future she was just given, it's replaced by a nearly-equal amount of guilt in feeling comforted by it. Her smile slips away, replaced by a pensive frown to match Matilda's tone. "I am glad to know that Timekeeper's deicison was well-considered, but... of course, I already did not doubt that they were thoughtful in their choices. But I as well..." She takes a few seconds to collect herself, looking down at her hands. "... If there is no disaster on the horizon, then I must redouble my efforts to maintain my ideals even in the... treacherous terrain I find myself in. That way, I can ensure that Timekeeper does not stumble either, if her path is aimed correctly."
Timekeeper	"You've placed your faith in someone more upright than I expected." Sonetto nods firmly, with a wordless noise of affirmation. Somehow, despite the sharp movement, her beret doesn't budge. "Timekeeper is someone that I am able to trust fully and completely. Even when they are... worrying, they are never haphazard in their choices." "I feel the same way as you do, that I cannot fully approve of her choice... but if the future is clear, then I can continue to follow this path, wherever it leads." Sonetto tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, eyes drawn back to the now-inactive crystal ball. "If I do not understand, then one day she will help me understand by showing me. Or else she will change her path herself, and I will follow. Thank you, Matilda." "Keep hold of these. In case you change your mind." "Ah-?!" It's so easy for her to be thoughtfully philosophical about her future and her loyalty to Vertin even within the Watch, when she is in the company and good graces of Paladins acting as her peers. It's somewhat different when she's immediately made sweaty and heart-clutchy again by a concrete employement categorization rather than just vibes-based dogma. Sonetto accepts the papers eagerly enough that for a moment it seems like she's going to start filling them out then and there. "Um, yes! I will, er, do my due research, and... if it is acceptable, I will... I would appreciate to like to look into your organization very much!" Sonetto's bizarre fumble in producing coherent speech only reaches her own brain several seconds later. In her belated processing of it, she gets caught by a sudden yawn, and she turns her face away and covers her mouth embarrassedly. "If you don't return this in the condition you got it, I'll put a curse on you." Sonetto's eyes widen as Lilian draws out the book, and she takes it with the gingerness of a newborn child and the reverence of a holy artifact. "Of--! Of course! I would never dare to blemish such a... thank you, Dame Rook. I--! I have a collection of poetry and novels that I have pre-selected for you to peruse, and the rest of the library is available for you to browse as well, a-and I can guide you to whatever you may be interested in!" Sonetto does not get given books often. "--you perfidious little Judas--" Sonetto trails off into silence. Even if it wasn't immediately obvious what happened when Lilian handled the sharpodonty, it becomes more clear each passing second. Sonetto doesn't speak herself, looking at Lilian's face briefly, before awkwardly looking away as if she's stumbled across something shameful. To break the silence after entirely too long, she shuffles through her own practical, color-coded hip pouch to draw out pre-counted sharpodonties. "Um... yes, er... here as well, Matilda. Thank you again."
Foundation Scions	'... I like the Matilda that can be serious as well.' Matilda's heart literally skips a beat. For the second time tonight, the dim light in the room hides the growing red on her face. What's happening? Matilda has almost half a mind to look over her shoulder to ensure Sonetto's actually even talking to her- but instead, it's important to respond. "O-of course. Matters of futures and guidance, those must one and all be handled with a mind's full focus and heart's proper care. Any time, you can be assured of that in my readings." A breathless little exhale. 'The moon suits you'? Oh, that's going to stick in Matilda's mind for months. "Ah- but it most certainly means much, coming from an Investigator and classmate so competent as you. This art is something I take much pride in, as is simply clear to see... erm." Towards the end, a competitive little twinge makes its way into Matilda's voice, but she stops before it becomes a tirade, and simply makes an appreciative nod. '... If there is no disaster on the horizon, then I must redouble my efforts to maintain my ideals even in the... treacherous terrain I find myself in.' "That seems a responsible plan, of course. And, Vertin... you will watch out for her, yes..?" Matilda's thoughts are ever those to wander, and Sonetto's earlier comment rings fresh on her mind. Danger and loss seems to find the Timekeeper quite frequently- and now, with everything so new and chaotic, it's hard not to worry. Matilda looks over, curious, as Lilian pushes association forms Sonetto's way- and her eyes go a little bit wider. A mix of emotions flash across her face and behind her eyes- excitement, jealousy, anticipation- but as Sonetto's first response is that she'll 'do her research', Matilda almost wants to grit her teeth in a totally-baseless worry that maybe she herself didn't, and has just signed up for some nefarious, unprovable group? No, that's ridiculous. Sonetto will surely approve of it- and think Matilda is soooo smart and responsible for having signed up in faster anticipation. Yay, Matilda! 'Oh, and before I forget--' Matilda makes a little hm-hmm noise. It's awkward to accept money from people she'd consider (maybe slightly lopsidedly) friends or friendly, but... Matilda's pocketmoney has recently mysteriously vanished at the same time the St. Pavlov Foundation's library received a new donation of books, so, it's fortunate and enterprising timing! What's the likelyhood a decent amount of this money might wind up spent in some way on Sonetto? Decently high. '--you perfidious little Judas--' Matilda's first instinct on Lilian's cry, is to assume, simply, that she's faced the normal plight of using sharpodonties- sometimes, they bite! It's happened to her a ton of times, and it's often a little surprise, and it hurts, or draws blood if you aren't careful, but that's totally normal amongst arcanists- Ah. Right. It didn't even register as unusual to her. Matilda looks down at the replaced coin, and back up to Lilian, a slight look of confusion on her face. "... Do you need a bandage, Ms. Rook? I know where the Library stores its first aid supplies." She doesn't actually know if Lilian even got cut by the coin's teeth- but it's a softer way of asking at what that even was about. Humans don't get bitten, arcanists do- unless there was a different thing amongst the pile that pricked or poked her..? But then why would she have reserved the coin... Matilda doesn't recall even hearing much about defective sharpodonty. "Ah- um... I believe this amount is enough," Matilda says, scooping up the counted-out coins and making to stand up. Awkward, "Ah- bonsoir, bonne-nuit, Ms. Rook, Sonetto.."