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agentlenet2019-03-03 02:50 pm
agentlenpc) wrote in agentlenet2019-03-03 02:50 pm
psychic thread
[The gentle brush against the Strangers' minds comes in early evening. It is, as all mental touches are from Fayura, soft and unassuming, much like a polite knock at a door. Once as many minds are connected as she thinks will open the door to her, she speaks.]
I am curious, Strangers, what you would do with the young man who shot and killed Councilwoman Vera.
Many of you come from worlds where there are laws against murder. While we have no such laws here, when a Blood male in a Queen's Territory kills another without cause, she may demand a price from him. Sometimes, that is his own life if he was negligent enough with his temper and sometimes, it's something less.
My trouble is this: if I execute him according to the laws of the Blood, of which he is not one, the Guilds will rouse their people into a furor and attack not only me, but the people of Draega. If I turn him over to the Ebon Council, the Guilds will do much the same, and that will incite the Council to strike back. And if I return him to the Guilds for accolades instead of punishment for taking a life, the Ebon Council will have cause to rip apart the Guilds and anyone in their way to extract from him the price for murdering one of their own.
Were you me, what course would you take? And please try not to shout over each other; this is as many of you as I could reach.
I am curious, Strangers, what you would do with the young man who shot and killed Councilwoman Vera.
Many of you come from worlds where there are laws against murder. While we have no such laws here, when a Blood male in a Queen's Territory kills another without cause, she may demand a price from him. Sometimes, that is his own life if he was negligent enough with his temper and sometimes, it's something less.
My trouble is this: if I execute him according to the laws of the Blood, of which he is not one, the Guilds will rouse their people into a furor and attack not only me, but the people of Draega. If I turn him over to the Ebon Council, the Guilds will do much the same, and that will incite the Council to strike back. And if I return him to the Guilds for accolades instead of punishment for taking a life, the Ebon Council will have cause to rip apart the Guilds and anyone in their way to extract from him the price for murdering one of their own.
Were you me, what course would you take? And please try not to shout over each other; this is as many of you as I could reach.
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She knows what he's doing, giving her a breather, and she doesn't resent it. This is weird. The strange mix of his emotions and hers as she struggles to understand and relate is draining and a little scary, but it's not going to stop her. ]
Alright. [ And then she tries something a little different, not physically moving to look at him, but shifting her mental awareness toward his. It's less disorienting, and it does give her a better 'sense' of his presence, uniquely dark and strong even in the frozen memory of when he wore Red. ] What's next?
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[ A spring wind chases away the chill inside the building. The walls start to shift and then to fade as the street once more forms beneath Piper's feet. It's night out, but with winter gone, the balmy air feels pleasant but strangely weighty. Piper's had this feeling before in recent weeks - as if a thread of the Darkness itself now winds through Draega. It prickles over the skin, beckoning and comfortable.
Piper doesn't want to seek it out. Change in Draega means trouble and trouble ends up with the streets running red until the anger and stupidity finally runs for dry for a time.
And yet, and yet, tonight she finds it harder to turn away and put the strange feeling out of mind. It's somewhere near the River North and the slums tonight.
Until it is suddenly, painfully gone.
Piper doesn't need to think, just run with steps aided by the dark power in her Gray Jewel. She knows the streets better than anyone - every nook, cranny, and short cut.
The scene she comes upon is grimly familiar. A group of hot-heads - a mix of landen and Blood - surround a female. The smack and clap of sticks along with the jabs of knives drive her back against a wall. Piper feels the dead space around them - a total lack of psychic scents and power. Muters. They must have muters.
It's not your fight, some part of Piper says with the weariness of one who spends too much time fighting. The rest of her knows this isn't a fight at all. It's a sick game that they'll play out until there's nothing left of the lady who still snarls like a fabled tiger and punishes them when they get too close. Of course, that's part of the game too.
Then, she looks at Piper and there's a moment when their eyes meet. A second, nothing more, but in it is a lifetime. The weariness fades, falling away like heavy ropes suddenly severed and one word, on feeling replaces it. Mine. Piper's Queen. The bond between them fills all of the cracks and holes formed over a life spent battling for simple things like food and scraps of safety.
It's both comfort and utterly terrifying.
Again, Verim pauses the memory. ]
That is what it feels like when a Warlord Prince finds the Queen he chooses - [ The word has an ocean's worth of emphasis. ] - and when he does she knows him too. His life becomes her and he is willing to surrender all that he is. [ Anger colors his voice as well. Just remember this moment is enough to push Verim towards the edge. ] The rest will be....intense. When you're ready.
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...it was as if there was... an innate sort of... connector -- no, that's not the right analogy. It was different, something in their souls was different. If Verim's life had been written out in notation, he'd been living in suspension and Fayura was the missing note of the chord. She knew what it was like to love, and want, and long for - she knew possessiveness and protectiveness -- and this was still different. It felt biological, like a physical hunger; it felt entwined with her power, it felt... none of her metaphors were working, but she knew it was different.
She's quiet for a long moment, simply shifting through the emotions. Piper is the daughter of the goddess of love and beauty, and these things should be bread and butter to her. She's been able to rely on her instincts to help her navigate through more dangerous waters than this, and in the end she decides -- she's right. It's different. It is not greater than, she does not feel that her own loves are diminished or inferior, because she knows them for a blazing white flame, but this -- there is no separation. That's what it is. There is no separation between will and being and this sort of emotion, it's as though the restraint that she possesses to be able to turn against her love if need be is just... stripped. It's become a part of Verim, seeped into the cracks and holes of his soul as well as the waiting receptor there -- he was made for this.
Even mentally, inhabiting his mental body, Piper closes her eyes. She wants to remember what this feels like. It's so foreign to her understanding, she thinks she'll begin to doubt the intensity of it as soon as she's no longer experiencing it. She needs to remember this, this is important. ]
...okay. [ She opens her eyes and her lips compress into a thin line. She doesn't need Verim's influence to feel angry about what had happened to Fayura. She is certain that she is looking at dead men walking. Her voice is tightly controlled. ]
They deserve what they get.
[ Bullies like this - this won't be the first time they've done something like this. She's killed her share of monsters. She's never killed a human. She doesn't want to, still, though she wants them to stop and she wants them to hurt. This will be her, and not her - she'll experience it like she was the one doing it. But she isn't even slightly tempted to back away from this. And she doesn't want to take back what she said. ]
no subject
Still, there's more to what she intuits, he thinks. An understanding that a landen, if Verim could show these memories to one as he does with Piper, still wouldn't fully reach. He will not pry now, but some other time, he resolves to ask. ]
Then we continue.
[ The scene lurches into motion again and tension in Verim - both now and in memory - is unmistakable. In one heartbeat, he's found the Queen for whom a part of him has always searched. In the next, comes pure fury at the men threatening to take that gift from him. The world doesn't paint itself blood red and Piper's thoughts do not grow chaotic or rabid.
Oh, no, not at all. The fury, real and fierce, sharpens the world as her body relaxes. There's no turmoil. No wondering about if they should die or not. Death is, after all, the only option and Piper knows it be true. She knows every building and extends her awareness to encompass them as well just in case there might be another lurking in the shadows.
Wrapping the female in layers of Gray shields isn't easy, but he pushes that power around her holds it though the muters fight him, requiring constant upkeep to the shields. That's fine. He has plenty of power to spare. More than enough.
The men turn and when they see Piper, shock and fear both ripple across their expression. They realize the same thing Piper knows - she is outside of the area affect of the muters. She is the Gray Jeweled Prince of Draega.
One of them lifts a Breaker, leveling it at Piper's chest. But there's no need to worry for in that instant, her plan unfolds. Craft shaped into lethal intent. The effect hits them all at the same time. Invisible hands that push past skin and wrap their hearts. A constant flow of power keeps the muters from dissipating her Craft for the less than a second it takes to crush each of their fetid hearts.
The bodies drop to the ground.
But it's not enough. There are so many people in this city that would hurt her, harm her, and Piper could with a thought, with a single blast of Gray, eliminate - ]
Prince.
[ It's her. Piper's Queen calling to her. A light touch lands on her arm that commands attention without demanding it. ]
I am well, Prince.
[ She says and that potent, burning rage starts to recede. She's safe. That's what matters. All that matters. The sharp edges of the world start to soften.
As the raw instinct wrapped in fury abates, Verim gently lets the memory fade out, yet he doesn't end their connection. Instead, he keeps it steady and keeps his shields in place to give her the space to come back from being in another person's body if only for a little while. ]
Take slow deep breathes at first. Settling back into one's own skin can take a minute or two.
this is all amazing, ty v. much for this story
It is the certainty that frightens her most, the absolute - not decision, but knowing. Knowing that their deaths were right and necessary and inevitable. Knowing that she could, would, kill not only them, but every single beating heart in the city, to preserve what was hers, what she'd been waiting for, her purpose and calling and breath and love --
She feels dizzy with the intensity of foreign emotion.
(It's a kindness, she'll later realize, that Verim kept the connection through Fayura calming him. It doesn't leave her stranded in that ferocity of feeling, as he's calmed down, she is too, and it helps - even if it leaves in place that feeling of connection. It's - aloe on a burn, but it's also... sunlight.)
She can hear his voice vaguely, and it takes a few minutes for it to register because of the strangeness of the split. She'd been -- but she was --
Breathe. Breathe.
She bows her (her) physical body over, placing her head between her knees to fight off the dizziness and surge of nausea. She can still feel echoes of that certainty, the rage and killing intent. While she'd felt righteous indignation at Fayura's treatment and the urge to help, for Verim... that hadn't even been in the ballpark, it was like comparing a flashlight beam to a lightning bolt.
Piper reaches for a memory of her own, something uniquely hers to help ground her. It might be embarrassing, but the first thing comes to mind is being high among the clouds, on the back of a mechanical dragon, between two of her favorite people in the world, and that...
She takes another breath, then swallows and straightens before turning her mental attention back to Verim. She is back inside her skin, but feels... very close to the surface of it, still a little dizzy. ]
Are you okay?
[ After all, he was the one who'd just opened up his mind and relived those memories. She had her own to fall back on, but he... he lived with this. Did they all -- they all live like this? ]
You're welcome! It was great fun. :)
You should rest. [ Though he couches it as a suggestion, there is the distinct impression that he will herd Piper into resting if she doesn't make that choice voluntarily. Welcome to Warlord Prince Fussing 101. ] And eat.
[ He pauses. ]
You are living off residence with some of the other Strangers, yes? [ This might feel like a loaded question because it is. Then surprise follows and the sternness his psychic voice has taken softens. A little. ]
I am well. I am a Black Widow and the mind is the ground we tread. Are you feeling better now?
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Her emotions are still a bit... impressed with his, and feeling the protective note in his presence surprises her. She didn't think that would extend to her. And while part of her is wary of being herded anywhere and she has a fierce need to prove her own ability to take care of herself, she's just been inside Verim's memories. She can't bring herself to mind it.
She is still going to try ignoring his suggestions.
Piper doesn't understand the loaded tone of the question, and answers honestly. ] Yes, I moved in with friends from home a few days ago.
[ She'd stayed in the Queen's Residence for about three weeks before moving out, wanting to get a better sense of who these people were and who the others Strangers were. She might have been tempted to stay longer if she didn't think that doing so would get in the way of why she'd agreed to come here... and if Jason hadn't been here. He'd only invited her to stay with them once, but she could see what it meant to him. And she wanted to be with him, and Leo and Percy too, of course. (Verim may get impressions of warmth as she thinks about her friends, and a certain amount of wry anticipation - she has a feeling that if one of them walked in right now, it would not only be Verim's fussing she has to contend with.)
And what exactly is a Black Widow? Bits of his memory - the web he spun - come to mind. But that's not enough of an answer for her. ]
I am feeling better, thank you. [ It's so easy to say 'feeling better' when a few minutes ago the room had been spinning rapidly. It is now only... wobbly. So that is better. ] And I'm glad you're okay. Is that why you could share your memories like this, because you're a Black Widow?
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But that hasn't happened just yet and she asked him a question. ]
Anyone with a Jewel can, but Black Widows are better trained. They learn to walk the mind in ways that are safe for all those involved. We also weave webs that can grant glimpses of the future, among other talents.
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Piper will be very tempted to contact Fayura and request the promised retaliation, but in the end she decides she'd like to see to it herself.
That is for the future. For the present, as Piper is still deep in Verim's mind and so thoroughly connected, he might receive another flash of memory - the blade of a knife, and projected in the metal is a vision of Piper, Jason, and Percy drowning. She has a sense of familiarity in his words - grant glimpses of the future - and a certain amount of fear and frustration. Each time her visions had warned of the future, they'd been horrible. Each time, she'd been able to do nothing to prevent that future from happening... but forewarned, they'd been able to come through.
The mind, though... she'd really like to know what she's doing a little bit better. But first - ]
And make those webs for protection, like in your memory?
[ Weaving, anything mental... she wishes Annabeth was here. She'd be so good at this. Piper wants to ask, but she hesitates. ]
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A web can be woven to almost any purpose, but they are used predominately for strong Craft that needs the anchor and structure. A Healer can infuse a brew to aid a cough, or ease illness, but a healing web is needed for broken bones.
[ By slow degrees, Verim takes them up through the layers of his mind, and psychic shields close behind as the ascend. The flickers of memory and emotion Piper has shown were not intentional. While keeping her where they'd been might reveal more to him, it would also be a painful betrayal of trust. But he does send to her another image that he constructs in pieces as he speaks. ]
Like a spider's web, you need a frame. [ And since he's literally speaking of spiders, he shows the branch of a tree. ] The anchor and bridge lines teether the rest and must be strong. [ A shimmer of Red Jeweled power begins to braid itself - one line between two of the twigs. Bridge, the thought impresses itself. Two more lines cord out and each one attaches to one of the twigs and then down to the branch in a V. Anchors. ] These lines give your Craft shape and you infuse them with the general intent you have.
If you want to protect, that is what you imagine. Then as you weave the rest of that web, you add the details - how you want to protect, protection from what. The web in my memory was [ he chuckles wryly ] one of my first attempts and crude. We all had to skip that step because I hadn't yet figured out how to make exceptions. Anyone who touched would have been trapped in the vision I wove into it unless their Jewel strength was dark enough to break it.
[ But of course, Piper knows from his memories that no one in Draega had been then. ]
You can infuse a web into an object or a person. It can be as focused as specifically as you have the skill weave and webs can endure long past the Blood who made them if they've the skill and power.
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She's never seen anything like this before. She's sure Annabeth would be able to take to it instantly.
But what he's describing... that doesn't sound so very foreign. Put your intention in the power, spin something. That's a lot like what she does when she uses Charmspeak. ]
So you infuse your power with your intention, and it somehow takes on physical form?
[ The anchor and the bridge lines must be strong. They're the framework... ]
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Physical form is often times the easiest to envision and create. A wooden frame that we can hold in our hands appeals to our tactile natures. But they don't have to be physical. Some webs can be sung and others... [ He falls quiet in contemplation. ] How serious is your interest Lady McLean? I don't mind indulging curiosity unless you're considering putting it into practice.
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She responds honestly, and not because she's pretty sure he'll be able to sense a lie, that doesn't enter her consideration. She responds honestly because Verim took her into his memories, shared something that was precious to him with her, and did all that so she could understand: the Blood really are different. She responds honestly because she wants him to understand. ]
I want to learn everything that I can so I be of help here. [ I don't want to be useless. ] I want to be able to protect my friends, and I want to be able to stop things like what you showed me today, and I want... [ her lips compress for a moment, and she gives the mental impression of just - utter earnestness and determination ] ...I want to be able to use what I have as best as I can.
[ And that was the truth. And she knows by telling him that it feels to her as if he won't tell her anymore. And she doesn't want that, she wants to get better at these things, she wants to be able to navigate these new powers without feeling like a clumsy elephant or to be able to simply shield herself in situations like these.
He may also receive the impression that his refusal to help won't stop her. Maybe she won't be able to follow this particular path, and that's okay, but she still is going to do her best to learn as much as she can. ]
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The Lady, in her web, included knowledge of the castes to all of you. If you want to learn how to spin webs, then I would advise that you decide first what caste calls to you. A Healing web includes the same basic knowledge as that of a Black Widows, but the outcome is far, far different and the skill in weaving them similar but not the same.
[ He's quiet again, almost as if he's speaking to someone else on a thread that no one else can hear. It is on a thread that only Piper hears that Verim speaks.]
Do not rush your decision. There are many things that you can do that don't require delving into webs. There are many who can teach you basic webs, but if there is a discipline that appeals to you, come to me or Lady Fayura and we will find you a teacher.
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When he speaks, it's not what she expects.
Yes, knowledge of the castes had been included, along with a basic knowledge of Craft - and... she recognizes that this advice is meant to help. It does make sense not to rush - she doesn't know how long she's going to be here, but any one of these studies will take time. Picking her target carefully gives her a better chance of attaining it.
(Something else strikes her about how he speaks, but she won't reflect on it until later. It's the way he says the Lady, how the term is almost... reverential, how it could refer to no one but Fayura, despite the abundance of 'ladies.')
Her tone is still a little quiet, just a shade shy of subdued. She's thinking, and it's not easy to readjust when you've been expecting a blow and received a balm instead. ]
I'll think about it. Thank you, and Lady Fayura, for the offer.
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[ The word nap has a strong emphasis as Verim withdraws from the psychic thread. ]
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