Seven Days Later II (Lyra)

[Fawn]

7th of Glade
Continuation From Here

It was frustrating to be treated like a child, even if she was one in comparison to Lyra. To be talked to like she couldn't possibly understand, nor comprehent, whatever it was that went on in the woman's life. But she wanted to try, even if that were true she couldn't help herself from that. Perhaps it was just in her nature or maybe a distraction from her own life, but the story that Lyra wove before Fawn was one she desperately wanted to grasp to it's fullest.

She leaned further forward, dropping her hands to her knees and watching as the swirl of smoke was spun. She listened. As much as she could, and though perhaps she did not have a perfect understanding of what had unfolded it was something- a glimpse. When Lyra finished her story the girl let out the breath she had been holding and felt two tears slide from her busted eye down her cheek. She wiped them away quickly, realizing then that her fingers were trembling. It begun to sink in.

Lyra.

Lyrielle.

The Voice of Madness, Tempress, the Siren, the Broken Doll.

Broken..

The silence in the room was the only thing that kept her two tears from multiplying, but it hurt to hold back. With a grit to her teeth she rose her eyes from the smoke on the ground and stared at the woman. Searching. Why? In a way her mind couldn't even wrap around the idea that this woman was actually the woman from the story, but it made sense, especially with how strange and cold she'd been. Her lack of understanding for human emotion, of mortal emotion. But it was not fear for the woman that shook her core, instead it was sadness.

When she spoke her voice cracked. "Lyra..." Like a song, pleading. "No one should have ta' fathom the pain ye have suffered, or given, and yet ye have done both..." She let her voice trail off as her head lowered and hung low. What should she even say now? Truly, what could she learn from her? Would any of it be worthwhile, or morally sound?

Then suddenly her head shot up. Eyes wide with the spark of curiosity reflected back at her.

"Why do ye entertain teachin me?"

[Lyra]

Confused, Lyra looked at Fawn with brows knitted together. What was this reaction? It seemed odd, out of place. She had told a story, that was all, yet for some reason she felt as if she were being pitied. Her? Of all people this child would pity her? Her surprise was such that for a short time she didn't know what to say, the silenced stretched until Lyra finally stood and walked away toward the workbench.

"What makes you assume that I am?" Lyra asked, looking back over her shoulder and shrugging, "It was just a story, a fantasy. Still, it makes me curious."

Stretching Lyra sighed, smiling slightly as she looked up at the ceiling, "Let us say, hypothetically, that I was inclined to teach you anything at all. Perhaps I would have chosen too because I grow weary of your helplessness. Perhaps I would prefer to not have my personal affects damaged whenever the world shows its cruelty to you. It would behoove me to ensure that you would not do something so foolish as to bring further trouble to my doorstep, which is bound to happen if you learn only from Naila or whoever you choose to gain instruction from."

She let her hands fall to rest on the bench, where she tapped a finger before turning to look at Fawn again, "Or perhaps, if I am what you seem inclined to believe I am, I wish to taint you. I might desire to twist your mind to the point of breaking, watch as you cling after false hope in this idea of fighting back. I might even find enjoyment in giving you just enough power to drawn yourself in beautiful, wonderous agony."

Lyra grinned at that, crossing her arms and putting on the face of Lyrielle for just a moment. She reached out, caressing Fawn's symphonies with a tender trace of her aether, and in one sudden motion she snapped the tones of confidence, firing up the fear and anxiety deep within as she applied the heavy weight of her mastery upon the girl. She stared at Fawn, gold eyes glinting in the glow of magic light as waves of intense emotion washed over the girl, clearly emanating from Lyra. Fear of the unknown, certainty of death. Anger, rage and all else was silenced with a breath. Defiance smothered by an absolute force like a mystical hand clenching around her throat.

Then it passed and she let the smile slip with another shrug, and with it all of these foreign emotions faded in a sudden rush, "Finally, if we assume you are capable of learning anything at all from me... What price would you be willing to pay?"

[Fawn]

7th of Glade
Continuation From Here

Havershim had taught her a lot. Not to egg on your opponent unless you can beat them, to back down from a conversation if it slipped from your control, and most importantly to understand when you should just shut up and leave well enough alone. But Fawn threw all that to the side as her expression morphed from sadness and pity to confusion. She listened to Lyra make her speech, watched her movements the same way she'd watched Naila during their sparring.

And Lyra was frighteningly the same, only her attacks came from across the aether. Suddenly Fawn doubled over, a scream erupting from her lips as the weight of terror overtook her entire body, mind, and soul all at once. Every ounce of guilt and shame she'd ever felt flowing through her veins like the rapids, and connecting it all was the feeling of death. Like she could feel every cell in her body decaying in that very moment. She was on the ground then, panting on her hands and knees as hot tears spilled from her eyes. Unfathomable rage for every wrong that had ever come to her or her loved ones, for everything that hadn't been fair, and even for the woman who stood across the room orchestrating the entire ensemble of pain in her soul.

And then it was gone. Like the air being taken from her very lungs she gasped for breath as she realized once more she controlled her own mind. But terror and anger remained. Not as strong as it had just been but warning enough. She looked up the woman, a new sweat on her brow as her wounded eye darkened in color. She knew that feeling- the sickening churn of her gut, the strange tickle in her mind- mesmer. It had been so fluid before she hadn't even noticed it, but Havershim had not been as artistic with his approach. And now she knew what Lyra had done, what she could do. The nurses at the hospital had made damn sure to give her a rundown on it after everything.

"Ye-" She panted, staggering to her feet and then with all the courage she could muster walked across the room to stand in front of the woman. Just mere inches from her.

"Ye made me tea. Ye've healed me wounds before ye knew me. Ye housed me, and even though ye seem to think the necklace means somethin to ye, if ye've got mesmer shit then it should have been no trouble to simply take it from me, aye?!" She was shouting now, and took a breath only to blow a strand of hair away from her bloodied face. "If ye wanted me gone, then ye'd have me gone. If ye wanted me to do as ye wanted, ye'd clearly make me. But ye don't, which leads me to believe you either find free will more entertaining or yer actually more kind than ye give yerself credit for."

Fawn panted once more, catching her breath before continuing. She didn't give any space for her to retort either as adrenaline pushed her onwards. "I've changed me mind, I donna think ye can teach me anything', which is sad considerin' how long ye've lived." Fawn scoffed and turned on heel, anger and confusion and some strange energy pouring through her muscles as she marched up the stairs and out of the basement. When she got to the top she slammed the door and continued her movements up to the top floor.

She didn't have the energy to process everything that had just happened, but something told her she'd just made a huge mistake.

[Lyra]

Lyra tried to sneer at the outburst, but the emotions and the words didn't match her expectations. It was confusing, disorienting to the point that she frowned instead as she raised an eyebrow at Fawn. Remaining silent Lyra watched Fawn's back as she stormed up the stairs, and winced slightly as her door was once again slammed.

"Children." Lyra cursed under her breath, shaking her head as she looked back at the still bubbling pot, as well as the container that held the bandages. She would have to force them on the girl now, which was a nuisance but she could not have her succumbing to infection under her roof.

That was a bit harsh, don't you think?

"Harsh?" Lyra snorted as she took the bot off the flame, waving a hand so that the magical fire extinguished, "I simply let her see a small piece of what it was she was searching for."

Yeah? Looked to me like you were just letting off steam after she caught you flat-footed. Who was that girl you were thinking about? The one with gold hair?

Her hand paused in its process of reaching for a stand to set the pot on, fingers curling slightly, "You were able to see my memories?

Just some pieces. I think when you get emotional this place reacts and shows a bit of what you are thinking. All I saw was gold hair. I guess it could have been a man."

"It wasn't." Lyra said in clipped tones. She busied herself with the bandages next, pulling them out one by one with the tongs and laying them on a tray to dry. The infusion would sink in, and would slowly release when applied to the wounds.

I'll pretend like I believe what you said. So why did you rip open a freshly stitched wound?

The reply was slow in coming and seemed as if it might not come at all until the last bandage was laid out in its place.

"That man, Havershim. For such a small worm, he has managed to bury himself deeper into that girl's mind. He is becoming a rot, and she is turning him into a symbol, something to represent her fears."

When Lyra didn't immediately continue Naila prompted, "Yeah, so?"

"Tonight I have shown her exactly how small of creature that man was." Lyra lifted the tray, carrying it and the pot up the stairs, carefully taking one step at a time so as not to trip, "Tonight she learned that he was unskilled and untrained. What's more she has learned that there is someone greater to fear, something far more worthy of her terror. A symbol that has terrified an empire of people since long before she was born."

I guess... compared to that, whats a dead noble to be afraid of? Naila asked, seeming skeptical.

Pausing at the top of the stairs Lyra smiled, "Anger, fear and hatred directed outward will produce results faster, and more efficiently. If someone stands before her that she knows can best her, but chooses not, then rage will be tempered to patience. Rash action's curbed to caution. Each decision she makes will need to be considered now, as she wonders if what she does is because she wants it, or because I want it for her."

It took several tries but eventually, Lyra was able to nudge the door open with her boot. Naila was quiet, contemplative, though Lyra could tell she did not quite believe her words.

"She cannot fight a dead man." Lyra said as she closed the door to her lab with a solid thunk, "Lyrielle, however, is very much a threat she can choose to fight against. I would prefer her to focus on things she can do, then be consumed by the regrets of times she was powerless." Though she said it, there was an odd pang in Lyra chest that made her frown, but she dismissed it as quickly as it came.

She might just run away you know. You're a threat now right?

"She wont run." Lyra said softly, looking upwards at the ceiling, up to the apartments where Fawn was, "She has too much to gain by staying, and besides, I have taken measures."

Lyra breathed out slowly, a thin tendril of black flowing across her lips. The smoke drifted upwards, the soft sound of whispering emanating as it flowed up between the cracks in the floorboards above.

"No matter what she does now." Lyra said as she closed her eyes, locating the girl before allowing the smoke to thin and spread out into the room, "She will always return to me."

[Paragon]

R E W A R D S

Fawn
XP: 8. Cannot be used for magic.
Requested Lore:
Connection/Building Relationships: Lyra's Whisper
Socialization: Holding your Convictions
Socialization: Questioning Someone Further
Socialization: Ask Emotional Questions
Socialization: Morals Matter, Even when you're hurt
Knowledge: Lyrielle, Last of Whispers
Knowledge: Self, I have more darkness in me than I wish to face
Perception: Noticing Differences in Appearances
Unarmed Combat: Reflecting on Past Fights
Unarmed Combat: It's not always useful

Lyra
XP: 8. Can be used for Alchemy.
Requested Lore:
Alchemy: Combining Necromancy with Alchemy
Alchemy (Recipe): Infused Healer's Bandages
Persuasion: Using Mesmer to tip the scales
Persuasion: Using fear to punctuate offer
Intimidation: Speak softly
Intimidation: Heightening negative feelings with Mesmer
Intimidation: Using stories to make the mind wander
Intimidation: Be vague to let the other person fill in details
Intimidation: Using old reputations
Intimidation: Play on their weakness
Intimidation: Suppressing one fear with a greater fear

Note:
Fawn has been given a whisper by Lyra. It possesses the following instructions:
1. Influence Fawn to always return to Lyra
2. Protect Fawn from other Mesmer affects
3. Prevent Fawn from telling others what she has seen and learned in Lyra's lab

The whisper has been given a substantial amount of its own aether, and can persist for two seasons if untapped. It can achieve the goals with limited intelligence through the use of visual or auditory hallucinations, or by speaking with Fawn's own internal voice. The details of how the Whisper interacts is up to Fawn's writer. If another mesmer tries to affect Fawn the whisper will lash out, striking with the force of a master mesmer to subdue the attacker at the cost of the remaining aether. If this were to occur Lyra would have to reapply the Whisper at a later date.