[IC/OOC] Fade Rift Inbox & Contact

[faithlikeaseed]

(( Need to get a hold of Myr? Drop him a line. Notes, in-person visits, sending crystals, spooky Fade dream shenanigans, you name it. Just specify the type of contact in the first comment of the thread and away we go.

Need to get a hold of the player? Plagueheart#0051 @ Discord or a DW PM is the easiest! ))

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[faithlikeaseed]

[It's good luck people have slipped things under his door often enough he's thought to train the Comtesse to collect them for a treat later--rather than try her teeth on them for immediate dissatisfaction. So when he takes up the sending crystal at its soft chime and hears her voice--hears her saying she'd left him something--he knows immediately where to search for it.

A fragment of honeycomb with culled drone brood makes a fair trade for her latest acquisition; she settles into to pull larvae from their cells as Myr runs careful fingers over the embroidery and listens to Araceli's message. The feel of wings and a hive in their midst brings a smile to his face, even as something about her tone, about the words tempers it to something sadder.]

It's quite clear to the hand, Serah Bonaventura--thank you; it's a lovely thoughtful gift. And I'm--glad, that what we'd spoken of was a help; I can't imagine... [A mage's status as something less than in the south was well-established, a background noise constant as breathing that he nevertheless refused. But to be there as one's personhood was debated, defined, negotiated--] --how hard it must have been.

Thank you, again--for all you've accomplished. [A faint smile colors his tone:] You're one of the first I've talked to about all of that; it's not something the Chantry'd be glad to hear, especially not out of a mage.

[foxsays]

[Living with Lux who began his training with Araceli upon being delivered into her palms (close your eyes, Araceli my girl, I've a surprise for you, her father had said with a twinkle in his eye, hat at a rakish angle, moustache curled just so) has given Araceli the idea that most creatures will retrieve. Because Lux does. Picks up things that aren't his, raised to the thief life as his young lady was, inducted, trained, scurrying alongside as capable lookout and spotter and crier.

A nug and Lux is-- well she hasn't tried wrangling such a meeting, he's never really met enough land animals early enough in life to do more than prod them. Now crabs? Crabs are his fencing partners. And seabirds not frightened by cocky foxes come strolling by them.]

Much of the negotiations were unpleasant, I'm sure you can imagine that all of us had very separate opinions on things, or why we held them. Things come up that-- that you don't ever imagine will be dredged out of the depths. [That she had to think of the Venatori again wasn't something she'd entertained, it's not something she speaks of lightly; the body heals but somewhere you lock all the horrible things in the box, and put the box under the floorboards, and lock the door to the room. Even if she threw that key away she could still get in. Open the box. Sift through it. Maybe someone will tell her why people do that same as prodding a bruise to check that yes, it still hurts.]

There's a lot of good I think that the Chantry could do, and I do admire that it has lasted as long as it has lasted. I come from somewhere else, or the person the spirits brought to being does, and it isn't my place to howl down that faith but still to say when a thing isn't right. When it has hurt. And I think that it's the same as many old things. It grows content. Holds its head up and doesn't look down. Says many things to justify itself louder than the people who might need it. And-- and this is from home, but the sea moves through my people, it guides us to where we're to go, to the people we have to meet, so it brought me here. To all of you. I am glad it meant that we met, that we could trust one another with these things.