RP:Two Terramancers and their Troubles
cast;
- Kirien; empathic terramancer.
- Zekchasz; headstrong hatchling.
- Dami; literal wrecking ball.
- Unnamed wyvern; over-large pup.
Meanwhile, Dami was attempting flight training 101, take number 86. The success of her attempts showed, as she plunged to the earth, like a rock from the sky. This hadn't been the first time, just a few hours earlier, the woman had demolished a good portion of the abandoned wharf in Rynvale. Who would have thought riding a wyvern would have been so troublesome? Regardless, she came rocketing down from above, and ironically, landed a few yards off from Kirien and his statue? With an explosion of both earth and snow, she was lost in the immediate carnage, leaving a small vehicle sized crater in her wake. When terramancy met gravitational manipulation, as well as several hundred feet in height- the laws of physics suddenly didn't mean anything.
Kirien's vulpine ears are already fine-tuned to the songs of metal, able to acutely pinpoint the subtlest changes in pitch and tone. He knows the entire, eerie, melody by heart now, but even that intimate knowledge has not helped him further his training with the element in any manner visible to the vampire. For a couple of moments he whistles to the ore and then falls quiet, and listens to its gradual reply. Soft sounds, from shriller screeching noises to high pitched squeaks and scrapes, drift about the trees in a muted chorus of unearthly, earthen voices; a ghost song of one of the many elements that makes up the world. Kirien takes it all in and is moving, perhaps to attempt to coax the ore into following his guidance, when Dami utterly shatters his concentration with a crash-landing close nearby. A vaguely surprised sound leaves the empath's throat while the young wyverns clamour and rush back to their nests in the trees, and Chasz bounds quickly to her 'mother's' side, eyes wide. Blinking gently, a mite bemused and a bit stunned by the sudden waves of vibration from the impact now assaulting his sight, Kirien peeks round the rough face of the ore at the downed pair. "Dami...?" he asks, as the remnants of the metal's lullaby fade into the light snowfall.
Dami admittedly had the wind knocked out of her this time around, coughing to gain her breath, as well as spitting out what little dirt she may have swallowed. Hits like these were a minor nuisance to the terramancer, albeit harmless (for the most part), annoying none the less. While she climbed out of the hole, the elf blinked- head tipped to the side. She may have not recognized the voice right off the bat, but that 'song' as he once put, was no coincidence. "What.. what are you doing here?" She hung at the edge of the shattered hole, looking up at Kirien in both a mixture of joy and confusion.
Kirien is not quite sure how to react at first and lingers by the column of humming ore, a hand against its surface. The general 'feel' of this unexpected arrival, the languid pulse of something familiar, mutually linked in some way somehow-- it resonates with his core and tells him this is 'Dami', but he never thought he'd run into her out here like this. Once he's shaken off the residual tremors of the elf's crash, he can see clearer and the truth solidifies before him and sets off a little ecstatic spark in his chest. Yes, this is Dami, and she indeed just slammed into the earth with enough force to carve a little crater out of it! Despite it all Kirien barks out an honest laugh, though still the edges of his voice are tinted with hints of surprise, and he rushes forward a couple of steps in sudden excitement. Then he jerks to a halt, cants his head, and grins a bit. "I happen to be very good at standing in places people tend to fall into. What about -you-? Why were you in the sky? Were you beyond it, in the stars?" He glances up quickly, as though he might be able to catch a glimpse of the heavens hanging naked and brilliant in the atmosphere, miles above his head. Chasz makes a nervous huffing sound, staying close by his side.
Dami pulled herself out, spun around, and sat at the edge of the newly made crater. She went about brushing herself off, clearing most of the dirt and snow with bare hands, before simply shaking her head like a dog. "If only," she said, looking upwards to the skies, then a little back at Kirien (he was upside down from this angle). "That is the reason, up there." Pointing to a ledge far off from the nest, sat an orange wyvern, blue stripped, and far bigger than it should have been. "Thought I could fly it. You- why are you out here? Thought you had vanished."
Kirien, it seems, can't quite make up his mind. Stay or go, move forward or back - he stutters between the two opposites, unable to do both and unable to choose one, stepping here and there, rushing to embrace her then veering round to the ore when she sits, and then turning three-sixty degrees all over again. Dropping to his knees behind Dami, he really does hug her this time, catching the elf in the circle of his arms with an overjoyed laugh that sends near-tangible ripples of happiness tumbling about the chilly air unchecked. "Ah!" His head snaps up when he spots the wyvern, apparently the real source of Chasz' hesitance. The ice wyverns, a far smaller breed than the beast Dami calls a pet, are hissing from the relative safety of their treetop nests, shifting uncomfortably. In contrast, Kirien, merely looks equal parts intrigued and childishly excited at the sight of the massive creature. "'Allo there. Stuck with an inexperienced rider?" he enquires casually with a slight lift of brow, before his attentions dive back to said wannabe dragonrider. "Vanished? You're half right. I was...about. Never quite in the here-and-now, which explains the vanishing. I'm back now, though!"
Dami wrinkled her nose, in retort to the wyvern's own reaction towards Kirien. It sort of.. tipped its head this way- then that; same was shown in reaction for the other wyverns, no matter how loudly they hissed. "It's still only a pup, doubt it can grasp the concep- Hey!" Taken by surprise, Dami yelped playfully while she was squeezed in Kirien's playful embrace. Dami jabbed him with an easy elbow, trying to shrug him off so she could stand. "Well, regardless, it's good to see you again. You spend all your time in wyvern nests these days?" She had noticed the small grey hovering his side, and could only assume it was his.
Kirien furrows his brow some. Intrigued, he stretches his neck out a bit, narrowing his eyes at the wyvern as if thinking squinting might help him to see better. It doesn't, as his sense of perception does not work like that at all - more than anything it's the work of an old habit that seems infuriatingly hard to drop. "A pup? You sure?" He squints a little more, earns himself an elbow to the rib, and pulls away with a half-stifled yelp. "Same here," he murmurs, rubbing his side. "It's been...a while. Et, no, I've just been here more recently because of Nameless. Wherever he is..." The terramancer shrugs shortly, for the skies are empty and there is no sign of the wyvern in question. He turns attentions instead to Chasz, who has shifted from warily eyeing the oversized pup to staring at Dami instead. Steely yellow eyes bore into the elf's own in a look of intense appraisal but she utters no word, so Kirien goes about giving introductions instead. "Ah. Dami, this is Chasz. Chasz, Dami, et so on and so forth. Chasz es my daughter." He says it so easily, as though it's totally normal to think of a dragon as your child rather than a pet.
Dami blinked once, maybe twice. She'd heard (and seen) things much weirder. "You never struck me for the winged type," Dami said, while reaching for one of Kirien's arms, lifting it up and down, as if trying to make it flap. "Still, a pleasure none the less." The elf gave the wyvern her infamous half-assed two fingered salute before turning around to close the hole. Lifting her hand, she clenched it shut while the remains of the crater simply caved and filled in; she'd seen the little wyvern fleeing the scene when she landed a few short minutes ago. There was some slice of morality there, that made would make her feel bad should one of those little things get stuck in said hole.
Kirien snorts and complies with the arm-flapping. "Funny you say that." Chasz throws her guardian a glance that silently makes obvious her exasperation at his antics, but she does not leave his side. Making a tactful move to remain oblivious to that hard stare, the empath continues cheerfully, "I actually do have wings, courtesy of an accident and a very weird book. That being said, she's not actually.." He gives Dami a very pointed look. "I'm a surrogate, tu could say." Meanwhile, the grey huffs a disapproving jet of steam at Kirien's fellow terramancer before finally flouncing off into the snow again, apparently having deemed the women of no real threat, if not being exactly pleased by her little salute. She keeps an sharp eye on the wyvern pup, however, and makes sure not to stray too near him.
Dami crosses her arms, and knits her brows together, somewhat of a questioning look offered back. "Just like Coterie.. vanish for a while, come back with another surprise." She herself had a bit of an issue with the wraithen essence, seeing as how Kasyr himself, arranged for a necromancer to stuff the remnants of one into Dami's own. "What's that?" Having watched the smaller wyvern leave, she couldn't help but notice the towering spire of.. whatever Kirien had risen, behind the two.
"I'm quite sure a requirement for coterie es that tu should always be ready for et know to -expect- surprises. God knows every one of us has a million of them stuffed up our sleeves," the terramancer replies with a slightly skewed grin. He pauses a second, scrunches his nose a little, and remarks in an absent tone, "You feel different. Got a surprise of your own somewhere?" That said, he spins on heel to peer at the looming pillar of dark rock when Dami makes mention of it, the occasional glint of refracting sunlight a hint to the secrets hiding within the seemingly unassuming slab of stone. "Iron ore," he states with a casual air, because being able to dredge up a great block of such material is a relatively regular thing for Kirien. "I was listening to it sing, trying to figure out what I'm missing."
Dami had tried her hand at digging up precious, and even rare minerals within the earth. Mostly when she was in dire need of funds, years back, but it was usually a hit or miss. It was a lucrative practice that could have proved quite beneficial, but she had no interest. "You could say that," in response to his first question, "Something dark. Powerful, but costly." It had something to do with Pyoshia's power and essence- something to do with gravity, and manipulation of certain properties. "Why the iron? Making something? Or were you simply bored?" She paced now, hand in pocket, making small circles around the pillar.
Kirien may place just a little bit of pride in the notion that he is one of the best at sniffing out rare minerals. His senses are capable of easily telling different types of rock from others, of discerning the purity of ore, and of mapping gemstones and their perfect, geometric growth patterns. Despite all that knowledge, which would surely prove useful to industry, he does not really dabble in the business of mining for others, no matter how high the pay might be. "It reminds me of something," he says, thoughtful. That particular feel garnered from Dami tugs at him but he is unable to recall why it is so familiar - a rare instance of misplaced memories. Kirien sniffs, nudging the toe of a boot against the base of the ore column. "More like practice." It's admitted slowly, with some reluctance. "I'm training up my metalbending."
Dami too, had been approached from the business perspective of harvesting ore and other materials. As noted before, such lucrative endeavours did nothing for the elf, in terms of interest. The earth was hers, and she apart of it; whoring it out for a sack of coin not only felt wrong, but personal. At least, that's what she would have told just about anyone, realistically, anyone who knew Dami could have just told you it was because she was lazy. "Often thought about it.. never had the initiative to try it myself. Felt dangerous, for some reason." Dami shrugged, moving to reach down and scoop up a handful of snow, before leaning up against the pillar.
"Dangerous?" Kirien's curiosities are piqued by this remark and he blinks over at his fellow terramancer in silent question, his expression making it obvious he's awaiting some elaboration on the topic. After a moment, he looks back to the pillar, a quietly calculating look to his blind gaze. "It's never felt like that to me. Just...a bit different from earth. Stubborn. I can't work out what I'm missing. But it's a hurdle I -have- to cross." A misty breath of chilled air is exhaled in a sigh and Kirien places both palms flat against the rough surface - eyes closed, he utters a single word whose every syllable is alive and crackling with raw earth magic, sibilant as it uncoils from his tongue and rolls into the air. He withdraws his hands just slightly, hovering his fingers an inch or so from the face of the column, and after a very long couple of seconds, the ore shifts where he touched it, as if drawn out by some invisible tether attached to the empath's fingertips. It seems the simple movement, while a feat in of itself, is not enough to please Kirien, who touches his fingers to the outstretched filaments of metal then spits a vicious string of curses.
Dami had taken a step back, wrinkling her nose in thought. "It just never felt right. I guess you could say, what is unknown to me, could be considered dangerous, until proven otherwise. It's safer that way~" The elf laughed quietly while crossing her arms, stepping back to watch the skill on display. It was impressive, by far- even the flurry of harsh words the man followed up with, too. So impressive, it may or may not have earned a pair of rosy cheeks; such tasteful execution, she loved it. "If it's any consolation, you seem to have a stronger grasp on your element, than mine. The ore, it has a physical manifestation, easier to grasp. Mine- rather, what the wraith inside.. I," she paused, biting the tip of her finger nail while dropping the handful of snow, "I'm not sure if what I'm doing is 'normal'."
Kirien is scowling, now. The frustration creasing his features does lessen some at Dami's words of comfort and he offers her a small smile in return. "I'm fond of messing with the unknown, it seems. Besides that, I was told, 'learn the way of metal, or revoke your status as a worldworker'. There's a lot lying on this." At least there is to the empath, though his explanation may only prove bemusing to the elf thanks to his tendency to use his own terminology. Shrugging his shoulders, he repeats the same command he spoke to the ore, only this time it clearly lacks the spark of mana travelling within it, then continues, "'Grow', essentially. I can say the same word to a rock et it will climb a hundred foot into the sky, but with metal I just get...this." He gestures sharply with a wave of the hand and a frown, back to the ten pitiful growths sticking out of the ore like the fossilised fingertips of some skeleton trapped in there a millennia ago. "Seems we're both having trouble." A pause. "It's a wraith? In you? That would explain why the feel es so familiar. But, ah, wraiths are...they're interesting." That pensiveness has returned to his voice again.
Dami said, "Your employer is a harsh one. They sound a little too familiar, ironically enough." Moving somewhat back towards the crater, she crossed her arms behind her head, and stretched, speaking through a stifled yawn. "My craft is simply killing me. That creature, he put in me- I can feel it, ripping away." Her neck was cracked to the left. "If I don't get control of it fully.." her neck was cracked to the right, "There's no telling what will become of me." With that said, Dami unfolded her arms from behind her head, and simply dropped them down at her sides. There was a shake in the earth, a violent tremor spoke its mind, and the ground beneath Dami's feet crumpled. It almost looked as if the invisible finger of an angry god had been pressed into the very earth she stood on. Where gravity had been Pyoshia's forte, Dami's natural affinity with the earth had taken and synchronized the two, into one deadly (and right now uncontrollable) force of reckoning. She could feel the weight of an unforgivable curse baring down, both physically, and mentally. "The very energy that keeps us tethered to this earth. Gravity, I heard a scholar once say." Her expression was quite stoic.
Kirien folds his hands into the relative warmth of his coat pockets, laughing. "Elementals are like that," he states offhandedly. Falling to lean back against the towering block of ore, the empath turns his gaze skywards, still looking thoughtful. His eyes might be elsewhere but his attentions seem to remain mostly upon Dami, unseen senses tracking her movement across the ground. Kirien's ears twitch a bit and he thinks he can feel something building just beyond his field of vision, and straightens up some in anticipation. Following that, the earth trembles in a sudden and violent tremor not of his own making - the vampire's curious perceptions pick up a sensation of an immensely heavy force pressing into the ground beneath Dami's feet and the total destruction of the stone prompts a startled blink in response. He bounds forward a step, head cocked, blind eye focused on the circular depression in the cold rock. "Ah," he muses, blinking once again. A faint spark of admiration flits across his expression, his lips curling upward at the corners. "That's interesting. Gravity, hm? Is it worth the curse of harbouring a wraith's energy, though... Well! If tu figure out how to control it, it surely will be. I'll back you up, Dami! This gravity manipulation, and the songs of metal-- we'll learn them both, okay?" As always, Kirien has a decidedly optimistic outlook on everything, no matter how dire the consequences of failure may be.
Dami was quite the opposite, in terms of being optimistic. Given the hand she'd been dealt, it wasn't that hard to see why; broken, beaten and shattered over time, it was bemusing to wonder how she had the will to keep on going. Damius, a man of strong values, and sensible choice, was now this- a reckless, undead wrecking ball of a woman, slave to the one man she hated most, fighting to stave off the corruption of a tainted essence, from devouring her own. The fact that she had the power to simply get out of bed, with such a gloomy future ahead, was a feat in its self. Still though, people like Kirien, made it all the more easier to cope with, and if anything offered a shimmer of light for the end of this journey. "One of these days, I'm going to have to let you in on a piece of my past. Until then, we'll just stick with keeping our jobs, yeah?" Dami couldn't help but giggle, as awkward as it was for her.
Kirien has this habit of turning his problems into a strength of a sort, or at the very least he learns to use them as motivation to move onwards - if he wields his own weaknesses as a weapon then no one can turn them against him, after all, though he's still plagued by so many ghosts. Blind he may be but this lack of regular sight maybe allows the empath to spot the silver lining on even the most miserable of clouds, even if the two are separated by physical and metaphorical boundaries. He smiles at Dami like there's nothing at all wrong with the world, his mood suddenly lightened as if his reassurances to her helped soothe his own frustration. "I do love stories," he admits, nodding his head. "There's some missing link somewhere that we've not quite figured out yet, but I'm certain we'll get it eventually. It's just a matter of time? Aha. If only I could ask my future self how to deal with these things.."
Dami stepped out of the small dent in the earth she had just made, and marched on up to Kirien. "You don't make it by in this crew with luck alone." With a sharp whistle, she'd call for her wyvern, who still to this day, was lacking a name. With enough badgering, she could get Hanan to come up with -something-. "If by chance, too, you ever run into my future self- tell it to 'plan ahead'. Too many times I regret being ill prepared." She laughed again. "No really though, we'll have to have another sit down, something less explosive. Falling from the sky and all. Poor things, they'll never want to fly after seeing -that- landing." By 'things' she meant the young wyverns all hiding in the nest, who were still keeping cautiously to their nest, and away from Dami's wyvern; poor little outcast. "You take care of yourself, Kirien." It would appear she was getting ready to mount up, and try this one last time.
Kirien smiles. "Of course." The other's whistle apparently summons Chasz as well as the wyvern, the young grey tearing across the snow to once more position herself so that Kirien stands between her and the over-large pup. Lurking in the safety of his shadow, she stares at the beast while the empath lays a comforting hand atop her head and rubs absently at her juvenile horns. "Shall do. And we definitely should, some time, with a little less explosion, oui." Glancing to the hiding wyverns watching them from the treetops, Kirien shakes his head some. "You take care of yourself too, Dami. As in, please still have the same amount of limbs when we next see each other, et so on et so forth, because it's far too often that I reunite with someone who's lacking something or another. Oh, and--" He grins a bit, and nods his head toward the wyvern, "--try moving with him, like you move with the earth. It tends to help. Good luck!"