Scene #2574: Rats and Witches in the Graveyard

Owner	Pose
Faruja	After the successful, if worrisome, events at Burmecia, Inquisitor Faruja Senra has been extremely busy. Starting a reclaimation effort, assisting Ser Aliste in patrol routes for those who will be holding the city, passing judgement on the various Alexandrian soldiers, burying the dead both old and new...it's one haggard looking Burmecian that wanders his way into the city. Passing off an escort, with the city now free of remaining Alexandrian soldiers and mostly clear of monsters, he simply takes a stroll. Carbuncle sits atop the rat's head as he explores his ruined home, only pausing as he reaches the original graveyard. He stares down at one particular grave, starting to clear moss and other bits of debris before taking a cloth to it. After about ten minutes, it at least looks passable as he stares down at his father's grave. Reaching into his pocket, he sighs, pouring out some Burmecian wine from a hip flask. Not exactly traditional, but his father loved the stuff. "Bit of a mess, mmm, Dad? Worry naught, the old girl shall once more shine rightly, and with that bloody fool of a King now powerless there shall be nothing to stop our kind from rising once more." Then he sighs. "Sorry it took so long to visit."
Medusa Gorgon	A slight 'tsk'ing sound comes from behind. Perhaps it's a bit ironic if one considers it. But it is indeed the formerly dead witch that steps into sight from behind a tree in the old graveyard. A witch that should be familiar enough to the priest considering the last times they have met. A look of amusement plays across her features as she stand there calmly, watching him. She /looks/ unarmed save for a small silver knife in her right hand, but then again, she has some powerful magic. And... a basket on her left arm. Just what is she doing here? "What a coincidence, Ser Senra~" she muses, stepping forward in a slow and somewhat steady pace as she makes her way past the other grave stones.
Faruja	It seems that Faruja Senra is simply not destined to be able to visit his family's graves in peace. Slowly, the Inquisitor turns around, quite literally bristling at the recently un-dead Witch. Taking a deep, deep breath, he forces himself to calm. His smile is as thin as glass. "Why, if 'tis not Heretic Medusa Gorgon! Now, what /ever/ brings ye to the overpicked bones of mine homeland? Surely not scavenging from the dead!" His voice is less cheerful, and more visibly trying to not strangle her on the spot. That knife and basket get a pointed look. Carbuncle makes the cutest little hissing sounds /ever/!
Medusa Gorgon	Likewise, Medusa's smile only looks too sincere to be real. And how he refers to her seems to earn a soft chuckle of amusement. "Now now, do you really think so little of me...?" she asks with mock hurt, pressing her left hand to her chest. "Desecrate the poor dead? Surely you're not insinuating that I am THAT heartless, do you~?" The hissing Carbuncle is ignored. Instead she gestures with her knife to some of the plants next to one of the many grave stones. "This world has some rather interesting herbs. Surely people will not complain if I take them for myself and also clean up. Most do consider these plants to be weeds, after all..." She cants her head slightly and peers at the grave stone Faruja stands by. "So this is where your father rests... what about your mother?" the witch asks.
Faruja	Faruja visibly chokes, and his brow twitches. "Yes." States the rodent utterly bluntly, not bothering with words at this point. A deep, deep sigh once more. He's doing a lot of these. And yet, he's not attacking her. Either he doesn't like his odds, or there's something else stopping him. "Nay doubt. And quite a number of very interesting poisons and other such curious concoctions canst be made from Corpseweed. Burmecian bones deteriorate oddly." There's a pointed look here. Then, he's tipping the drink, scowling. "My bloody luck to run into ye with mine tail tied. Oh well. God ever tests us!" He's trying to be civil, at least. Just ignore the trembling of anger. And then she's prodding, his eye narrowing dangerously. For a very real moment, he considers dropping a meteor on her head. But they have enough damage to the city as it is. "Mine /Mother/..." There's a hint of bitterness, anger, and even hate in his voice. Definitely a sore spot here. "Was dececrated by a necromancer, and I was forced to see her body made dust lest she once again be pillaged by the likes of thineself."
Medusa Gorgon	The witch steps closer and closer, still perfectly calm. It doesn't appear that she is about to attack him either. As for his observation, she chuckles softly. "Indeed. Such useful weeds, they go in so many various medicines and potions." Though she arches an eyebrow at his next comment, coming to a stop right next to him as she peers down. "Oh...? You mean you would have attacked me now if you could? Even if I'm here and not breaking any laws...?" Why, such insolence. Attacking a poor, defenseless woman like that! Medusa crouches in front of the grave stone, though she doesn't make a move to remove any of the weeds there yet. Not when he's talking about his mother who met a rather grim fate. Though Medusa does glance up at Faruja with some amusement glittering in her amber eyes. "Now now. I might be a witch, but I have no interest in desecrating the dead. There's no value in that, nothing to be gained. Make comparisons that actually are relevant, Ser."
Faruja	Faruja just shakes his head finally. "...Just at least give some to a few of the more upstanding members of the Confederacy. How /is/ Ser Nine faring, I hath not had the pleasure in quite some time." Faruja just snorts at that false insult. "Dear Lord, mayhaps I hold a bloody grudge for stabbing me last time! Or that...alright, granted, they were filthy vampires, so ye art forgiven. And I didst get to burn up a vampire." Ahh, good times. "Point being! Technically this city is under martial law...such as it stands as a city...and what ye art doing couldst be construed as looting. But, I am not that desperate, and ye seem to hath this horrid habit of not remaining dead once killed. Bit annoying that." Pause. He doesn't shoo her away, at least. She /is/ clearing gravestones. The flask is offered. "God help me, but I actually believe ye. Mine apologies. Here...nay, ye died, I suppose I canst call ye that. /Lady/ Gorgon." He visibly cringes. "What was it like to return to life? Didst ye remember anything while ye were in the next?" He asks suddenly.
Medusa Gorgon	"My duties to the Confederacy is to maintain the health of its members who need special medical care. And Nine... ah. That poor man was rather clingy when I returned to life, and while I was recovering he didn't stray far from my room and made sure I was safe~" she smiles. "He is such a good soldier." Not to mention a valuable pawn. When it comes to grudges, Medusa tilts her head to the side with a coy smile on her lips. "All's fair in love and war, Ser. Poor Ariah, that child still has nightmares...!" she chides him, her tone similar to how she would speak to a misbehaving child. "Looting only applies to stealing items that are actually the property of somebody else. Nobody owns these weeds, now do they?" the witch points out. When he brings the subject to her demise and revival she is quiet, listening and observing. The offered flask is declined as she shakes her head, showing her bare palm. "No thank you." Let's answer his questions. At least somewhat. "I was never in any next world if that's what you meant. Only my body died, good Ser. Witch souls are something else, and can live on. My soul got lost in the multiverse, and I was... trapped before some Elites unwittingly assisted that fool of a man in bringing me back," she points out, reaching out to pluck at some of the moss on the grave stone.
Faruja	Faruja's good eye closes. "Well, at least ye art good for /something/. I swear, I ever encounter the bastard that twisted the poor man so I shall see them brought to mine dungeons post-haste!" He snarls out hatefully. Oddly, the rat seems to positively adore the strange mutant. Definitely some blackmail-and-or-manipulation material here. Faruja doesn't immediately respond aobut Ariah. "Mayhaps she shalt learn a lesson. Namely that her cursed existance shouldst best be shortened as swiftly as possible, and her soul given into the arms of the Lord!" Mini-sermon ended, he shrugs, and then drains the flask. Oddly, Medusa is at once both infuriating to talk to, and oddly relaxing. The rat catches himself opening up to the woman. That way lies ruin. "Oh, just take the bloody things! Ye art saving us a gardening bill." He huffs out. Faruja squints a brow, and rubs his head. "Ye know, I wouldst almost /like/ ye to be honest if ye wouldst stop spouting Heretical bollocks such as that. Art ye truly so tainted as to be unable to pass on?" His voice actually softens. There's honest sympathy here for one brief moment, that the rat has to crush out like a heretical rebellion. Did he just go a shade more white?
Medusa Gorgon	"I'm good for many things, Ser. Including fighting for the Confederacy and keeping them alive. And Nine happens to be one of my many patients..." So. The rat has a soft spot for the golem, huh? How interesting... "You are quick to pass judgement... is it her fault she's a vampire? She can hardly help what she is, just like how I can't help the fact that I was born a witch... some might regard you as a rodent, you know~?" Medusa points out rather objectively with a teasing smile crossing her lips. And since he tells her to, she begins cutting the stem of the weeds around the gravestone, though she pulls up some roots here and there as well. "You are rather quick to speak of heresy. And it's not a matter of fact that I'm unable to pass on. It's more the fact that my soul is still alive," Medusa explains calmly where she crouches by the grave.
Faruja	Faruja's ears tilt back. He doesn't directly respond, but does look away. No, he's not going to praise this woman. The mere thought has him grumping heavily. "Mayhaps ye cannot, however, ye /can/ control thine actions! Stabbing people in the back, making use of a man's love for his daughter to come back to life, /that/ is why ye shall burn in the fires of the Abyss when someone manages to put ye down for good. Same for the undead fiend." That teasing smile only makes him scowl harder. At least he doesn't stop her from gathering up weeds. "Yes. I know. Humans do so love to make that very bloody apparent." A brow rises. "'Tis mine job." He says simply enough. Weird Witch. "Anyone, not that ye shall do so, but at least use thine return to mend thine ways, and /mayhaps/ that soul of thine may just be saved." He's trying dangit!
Medusa Gorgon	"Can I though...?" Medusa comments, her eyes narrowing. "Witches are born with a thirst for destruction. We are merely doing what we were born to do. You might as well try to make a predator survive on tofu, it would be just as futile. Witches are born with a death sentence in my world..." As for her 'actions' during her death? "I never lied to that man, however. He assumed I was his... youngest sister, I believe? I wasn't fully myself while I read the reports, you must forgive me for my horrid memory. It was a rather unpleasant experience. In the end he falsely believed I was somebody else. Simple as that." Some more weeds are picked, and Medusa carefully places them in the basket. "And to think you picked such a job... it must get boring, prattling and prattling about how doomed people are when they don't care for such words. With how you speak I do wonder if my soul can be saved though, especially if it was doomed to begin with. Just because I was born a witch..." Medusa muses carefully without looking up at Faruja as she works.
Faruja	"Of course ye can. Even if ye were born with such an appetite, canst ye not control thine own actions? Ye may well be doomed to the Abyss as a Witch, but even /ye/ might be cleansed by the hand of Faram if ye simply show Faith and obedience! But ye must want such a thing." Faruja shakes his head sadly. "I hardly see that happening." Responds the rat, only to chuckle bitterly. He leans against a nearby, taller grave marker. "Hmph. Ye used the man regardless." "Someone has to, lest Heresy grow even /worse/ in this world. I doth not recommend it as a career, horrible mortality rates ye see."
Medusa Gorgon	At that Medusa smirks. "But I do not have faith in your god or any god, Ser," she points out. "As for obedience... hardly. A witch does what she feels like doing, it's in our very nature." At least they both find such a thing unlikely to happen. "He used my soul first, however. He kept me trapped. So it's only fair I got something in return for him capturing my very soul. Let me tell you, it was not a pleasant experience." Most of the marker is clean by now, free of moss and weeds surrounding it, so the witch rises to her feet. "You should drink some more soothing tea. Perhaps it might make you less uptight?"
Faruja	Faruja hands go wide. "And thus, ye art truly doomed by thine lack of faith and inaction!" Lovely how his arguments walk all the way back around to her being doomed-and-or-evil. Faruja seems to actually consider her words. "...So much as it burns me to say, ye hath a bit of a point. Anyone manipulating souls outside of God aught be tossed in a proper dungeon." A shake of her head. The rat lets out a tired little squeak. "Ye know, tea wouldst be /wonderful/ right about now." Pause. Peer. "...Any interesting varieties from thine world?" Dear God, but they might have common ground here.
Medusa Gorgon	At that comment Medusa chuckles. "Your logic does go a lot in circles, doesn't it~?" she points out with a wicked smile. "How many friends do you have left after accusing them all of being heretics, hmmm?" That is amusing to consider, really. "It must get tiresome to accuse everybody of being so horrible that you point them out to be..." Oh, they go from discussing souls to discussing such a fine drink as tea? Fine with her. "Hmmm. I am quite fond of fruit tea myself. Something to break up the monotony of strong and bitterness. I do drink coffee most of my time in medical, I must admit. I should send you some tea for Christmas... heh." The witch looks pensive where she stands.
Faruja	"Ah, nay, ye misunderstand. They art /heathens/. Important difference. Plenty, thank ye much, Lady Gorgon." Comes Faruja, voice full of venom. "Only when they consistantly ignore me. I swear, 'tis like ye lot /enjoy/ being filthy godless sinners." Huff! On to a safer subject. He too is soon clearing weeds. Having claws helps. "...Thank ye for being so considerate. Fah, coffee. For /Alexandrians/. Remind me to send ye a few local varieties. They should come into the market fully once we begin resettling here, but there is a rather sweet tea popular amongst the working class. Or, /was/ popular, rather."
Medusa Gorgon	Can the witch look more amused when Faruja resumes his talk about heresy? "No, /you/ think we are heathens. We think /you/ are a bore. Some of us don't see why we should limit ourselves when we can live life and fully enjoy it and all the pleasures it brings. Why else would we be alive?" What isn't to enjoy about being a heretic and living life to its fullest? With her basket nearly full the witch eventually stops picking weeds though, and she looks at Faruja. "Do send me some tea, and I will make sure I send you some decent samples. You do need some relaxing tea, I will send you a large can of that. But for now..." She nods once at the rat. "I am afraid I should get going. Thank you for the lovely chat~ I will leave you with your father now, I'm sure you have a lot to talk about."