[Taking a good swig of the ithbank would likely alleviate the look of uncertainty that crossed her features for that moment. ...With a contortion of the face, more than likely. What could be said? It was cheap. Not good cheap, either. But it is effective. Which was the entire point.]
You'd do exactly as an ugly person would. Latch onto the nearest skull you can find, crack it open, and slurp.
[A wry smile follows, as his gaze moves to the side- to the cliffside. Hardly a helpful answer. Nor one distinctly requested, rhetorical as her question was. Yet it comes from a good place. Perhaps they were distinct opposites in the way of which they processed uncertainty. For Ara appears to be trying to help, even if what he says is quite biting.
But as she moves closer...]
The artifact is protecting us by affording us time. What we do with this gift... well. None can say we are not making steady progress through our options.
[That was what concerned him. The druids of the Emerald Grove being unable to do anything for them. The Githyanki (more violently) in a similar position. Even unconventional options such as a goblin priestess, a hag... led to nothing. Let alone Volo.]
At least our options are not wholly extinguished. Halsin seems somewhat certain Moonrise can offer some insight. So, all we can do is press ahead.
[And at that, he takes the bottle. Giving it another good, long swig. And a grimace.]
Saying that, I'm glad I met you as well. Survival doesn't even come into it for me... I think that without others, I would have cast something lethal on myself weeks ago.
[Few times does Nepione grimace, but in this case, his taste in drinks is one of them. Mead would have been better, but perhaps beggars cannot be choosers. Regardless, she finds herself almost immediately appalled by what he follows up with. Almost being key there. What actually happens is she looses the smallest laugh. That's not exactly untrue, is it? Still, she'd like to avoid that particular outcome if she can manage it.
She very willingly offers him the bottle back. He's certainly cured her of her need for drink on this night. Instead, she leans back onto her hands, still focused on the distant trees and the words of wisdom he'd seen fit to previously impart unto her. What she doesn't say, but may very well align with his own thoughts, is what will they do should they exhaust all of their options? What happens at the end of that pathway? She would rather be put down than deal with ceremorphosis.
That seems a little too heavy to say, however, and she really doesn't want to bring it up unless it's absolutely necessary. She hopes it won't come to that, but she feels as if she's steeled herself for the possibility. She has probably thought on that longer than she'd like to admit.
Looking over to him, she offers a slow nod. Right. Moonrise Towers.]
I wonder what we'll find there... Something, I hope. Even if it doesn't provide an answer or something to solidly fix things, maybe we can find the next step to go in. I can live with not having an outright answer, but I want to feel like we're at least making progress.
[Nepione pauses for just a moment, thinking how hypocritical it is that she would seek to scold him for being so honest when she was, only moments ago, thinking something quite similar. As if it's perfectly fine for her thoughts to go to such places and yet it's not for him. Then she shakes her head.]
I, for one, am glad you didn't. Let's keep going together, all right?
[Oh no. There's begging, there's choosing. Ithbank is for neither of those scenarios. Ithbank is a special drink. One intended for the sole purpose of getting blackout drunk very quickly, and risking permanent blindness to remember nothing of it. The fact it is passed right back comes as no surprise. And he cannot help but allow a distinctly amused chuckle to leave his throat as he reclines backward, turning his gaze to the sky.]
I'm sure we'll find quite a lot there. The archdruid mentioned that he thought that the place where people are infected with tadpoles. And as you and I both recall, ours happened upon that nautiloid. I'd bet that's the difference between us and this cult.
[A small sigh leaves him then. One that he cannot feign lightheartedness over- because truly. The idea of venturing into the lions den, so to speak, is worrying. One or two cultists, armed with crude weapons? No issue. But there could easily be thousands there. And where there is a stronghold, they are sure to be outfitted well.
But their path is set. Regardless of how worrying it is. Quite simply, there is no other option.]
Yes, you're right. Put it this way...
[He moves to the side then, lying on his shoulder as he looks to her.]
Alone, we're almost certainly dead. More than thrice over, already- between the hag, the goblin camp... Hells. The creche. I have talents. But if anyone would have told me prior to this that I'd take down an entire creche of murderous Gith, to the last soldier? I wouldn't have believed them. So what I'm trying to say is...
[A smile.]
I'm glad you're here too. Regardless of what happens, we have the best chance of success as a group. And you're an important part of that group. So don't falter, and I won't falter.
[When she starts thinking further back, it occurs to her that she can't even remember what she was doing, where she was going, or much of anything around the time that she wound up on the nautiloid. She, of course, remembers largely everything prior to then, but around that time, it's likely that it happened all so quickly that somewhere those memories remain. Eventually to be rediscovered, though she doubts them to be anything that will be of use to them in the long run.
She can only assume that like Ara, she was probably at the wrong place at the wrong time. The Cult of the Absolute would call them special. True Souls. She doesn't like that phrasing at all. How agitating. There is nothing special about it. But maybe Moonrise holds all of the answers. A part of her can't wait to find out. The rest is terrified of whatever it is they may discover. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.
As he continues, she looks over to him, crossing one leg over the other as he recounts tales. The kinds of tales that, in her youth, she would have perceived to be little more than storybook fodder. And yet, here they are living one. Ah, to be an adventurer. At the end of his regaling comes...
Well. She likens it to reassurance. Sometimes she doesn't know where her place is. If she even ought to be with them at all, though she wouldn't like much to admit that. It is possible they all feel that way from time to time. But if he says that she's important... She certainly has to try her very best, doesn't she?
As if Nepione is capable of anything else.]
Yes. Yes, we do. Divided we are weaker. Not weak. Only weaker. I have every confidence that we can make our way forward. I'm not anticipating an easy road, but when the rest of you are also on it, I feel like I can face anything. I won't let anything stop me.
Not to mention the fact that we are who we are. Honestly? being transplanted with a mindflayer tadpole is a ... horrible situation to be in. I'm sure if we lived ten lifetimes, or even a hundred after this one, it'd still be the worst possible thing that has happened to us. But even then... I'm glad. Kind of. That it happened to us in particular.
[He falters then, his eyes narrowing, eyebrows furrowing, as he thinks of how exactly to articulate quite a delicate point well.]
I'm not glad that it happened to me, or you, or the others. Other than a few eccentricities [Namely a warlock, a vampire spawn, and a cursed wizard...] You seem decent enough people. ...Even Lae'zel, actually. Once you get used to being constantly insulted. And, I don't know. I like traveling with you. I'm glad for you. Could've been anyone waking up next to me on that beach. Hells. Could have been a band of bugbears.
[The half-elf rises- or at least partially rises- into a sitting position. The bottle is, again, supped from. Likely his last drink of it. Especially if he wanted to get back to the encampment without falling on the road back.]
So we have time, a quite likable strength in numbers, and a path to follow... however it ends. Hopefully, things are clearer now. But even then, if you're still at a loss, then we'll hit the mead like you wanted when we get back.
[It is a good thing that he clarifies. Of all of the ways Nepione would describe it, being 'glad' for it, is probably not one of them. But there is a part of her that realises if it was not them, it would be others in their place. Maybe it is defeatist thinking, but she'd rather it be her than others.
Her head tilts as she listens to his explanation, deciding that his feelings are valid. Not that she imagines they could have been anything but.]
I do like thinking my companionship is vastly superior to that of a bugbear.
[The tiefling is capable of issuing just a touch of humour, the corners of her mouth lifting. Although it is somewhat softened by the way he brings them right back to how they got to the present moment in the first place. Are her concerns assuaged at all? She's not certain. Fear still lingers in the deepest pits of her, though they are less to do with her and certainly more to do with Ara and the others.
Instead of providing him with immediate response, she simply turns his words over with a gentle consideration. Her smile lessens into something a bit more sweet. Appreciative. Perhaps a touch wistful.]
Perhaps I see clarity in a way I didn't expect. [Nepione admits quietly.] How that will impact me tomorrow morning, in the days to come, I don't know just yet. But this has been nice. Too many of these nights I spend in my own head. It was nice to spend a little time in yours instead.
You don't have fleas, for a start. Or a taste for my flesh.
[Ha, victory! He's under no allusion that getting a guffaw out of Nephione is something likely. Whether by her nature or the creature within her head, she seems far too solemn for something like that. So yes. He's taking this as a victory, thank you very much.
Saying that, her appreciation isn't lost on him. He gathers himself, getting to his feet and dusting off his knees, before he tilts the bottle upside down, emptying out what remains at the tree he had supported himself on. It may as well have a drink too.]
If you enjoyed it so much, then let's do this again. Any time you'd like to get out of your head for the night, come find me. Likely, there's all kinds of things out there as we travel. And I can try to make metaphors out of them.
[A bright smile follows, and he extends his hand to her.]
[She smiles knowingly, biting down over the temptation to quickly respond with something akin to 'that you know of' and instead, she simply leaves it at is. Although truth be told, he's probably right. How many people look at a tiefling and a bugbear and notice there is an actual difference? There are likely many out in the world who would interpret both as being near the same.
If not the same outright. For some reason, she continues to be surprised when non-tieflings don't seem to take notice or simply don't care about who and what she is. It's a good feeling to come into contact with. She doesn't respond immediately, instead eyeing his offered hand for just a breath or two before taking it. Her touch is remarkably careful, though perhaps expected given her rather transparent demeanour. As mindful of her claws as she ever is, she uses him to pull herself to her feet, giving another long look to the trees far below and into the distance.]
That's a tempting offer. [She admits, turning her attention back onto him, and for just a moment, she takes his hand between her own, as if through touch alone she might be able to express all of the warmth he grants her by giving her something so very simple. Or maybe, she's just a foolishly sentimental creature. It's probably that one.] Sometimes it's good for me to be in my head. Keeps me level. Shows me what I need to be really looking at and keeping in consideration.
[That is, restraint and discipline, Nepione's two favourite words, it seems.]
But when that burden becomes too much, I'll learn to let some of it go. Perhaps you'll be able with that. And I'll make sure I'm not too much of a stranger. Without taking advantage of your kindness, of course.
no subject
You'd do exactly as an ugly person would. Latch onto the nearest skull you can find, crack it open, and slurp.
[A wry smile follows, as his gaze moves to the side- to the cliffside. Hardly a helpful answer. Nor one distinctly requested, rhetorical as her question was. Yet it comes from a good place. Perhaps they were distinct opposites in the way of which they processed uncertainty. For Ara appears to be trying to help, even if what he says is quite biting.
But as she moves closer...]
The artifact is protecting us by affording us time. What we do with this gift... well. None can say we are not making steady progress through our options.
[That was what concerned him. The druids of the Emerald Grove being unable to do anything for them. The Githyanki (more violently) in a similar position. Even unconventional options such as a goblin priestess, a hag... led to nothing. Let alone Volo.]
At least our options are not wholly extinguished. Halsin seems somewhat certain Moonrise can offer some insight. So, all we can do is press ahead.
[And at that, he takes the bottle. Giving it another good, long swig. And a grimace.]
Saying that, I'm glad I met you as well. Survival doesn't even come into it for me... I think that without others, I would have cast something lethal on myself weeks ago.
no subject
She very willingly offers him the bottle back. He's certainly cured her of her need for drink on this night. Instead, she leans back onto her hands, still focused on the distant trees and the words of wisdom he'd seen fit to previously impart unto her. What she doesn't say, but may very well align with his own thoughts, is what will they do should they exhaust all of their options? What happens at the end of that pathway? She would rather be put down than deal with ceremorphosis.
That seems a little too heavy to say, however, and she really doesn't want to bring it up unless it's absolutely necessary. She hopes it won't come to that, but she feels as if she's steeled herself for the possibility. She has probably thought on that longer than she'd like to admit.
Looking over to him, she offers a slow nod. Right. Moonrise Towers.]
I wonder what we'll find there... Something, I hope. Even if it doesn't provide an answer or something to solidly fix things, maybe we can find the next step to go in. I can live with not having an outright answer, but I want to feel like we're at least making progress.
[Nepione pauses for just a moment, thinking how hypocritical it is that she would seek to scold him for being so honest when she was, only moments ago, thinking something quite similar. As if it's perfectly fine for her thoughts to go to such places and yet it's not for him. Then she shakes her head.]
I, for one, am glad you didn't. Let's keep going together, all right?
no subject
I'm sure we'll find quite a lot there. The archdruid mentioned that he thought that the place where people are infected with tadpoles. And as you and I both recall, ours happened upon that nautiloid. I'd bet that's the difference between us and this cult.
[A small sigh leaves him then. One that he cannot feign lightheartedness over- because truly. The idea of venturing into the lions den, so to speak, is worrying. One or two cultists, armed with crude weapons? No issue. But there could easily be thousands there. And where there is a stronghold, they are sure to be outfitted well.
But their path is set. Regardless of how worrying it is. Quite simply, there is no other option.]
Yes, you're right. Put it this way...
[He moves to the side then, lying on his shoulder as he looks to her.]
Alone, we're almost certainly dead. More than thrice over, already- between the hag, the goblin camp... Hells. The creche. I have talents. But if anyone would have told me prior to this that I'd take down an entire creche of murderous Gith, to the last soldier? I wouldn't have believed them. So what I'm trying to say is...
[A smile.]
I'm glad you're here too. Regardless of what happens, we have the best chance of success as a group. And you're an important part of that group. So don't falter, and I won't falter.
no subject
She can only assume that like Ara, she was probably at the wrong place at the wrong time. The Cult of the Absolute would call them special. True Souls. She doesn't like that phrasing at all. How agitating. There is nothing special about it. But maybe Moonrise holds all of the answers. A part of her can't wait to find out. The rest is terrified of whatever it is they may discover. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.
As he continues, she looks over to him, crossing one leg over the other as he recounts tales. The kinds of tales that, in her youth, she would have perceived to be little more than storybook fodder. And yet, here they are living one. Ah, to be an adventurer. At the end of his regaling comes...
Well. She likens it to reassurance. Sometimes she doesn't know where her place is. If she even ought to be with them at all, though she wouldn't like much to admit that. It is possible they all feel that way from time to time. But if he says that she's important... She certainly has to try her very best, doesn't she?
As if Nepione is capable of anything else.]
Yes. Yes, we do. Divided we are weaker. Not weak. Only weaker. I have every confidence that we can make our way forward. I'm not anticipating an easy road, but when the rest of you are also on it, I feel like I can face anything. I won't let anything stop me.
no subject
[He falters then, his eyes narrowing, eyebrows furrowing, as he thinks of how exactly to articulate quite a delicate point well.]
I'm not glad that it happened to me, or you, or the others. Other than a few eccentricities [Namely a warlock, a vampire spawn, and a cursed wizard...] You seem decent enough people. ...Even Lae'zel, actually. Once you get used to being constantly insulted. And, I don't know. I like traveling with you. I'm glad for you. Could've been anyone waking up next to me on that beach. Hells. Could have been a band of bugbears.
[The half-elf rises- or at least partially rises- into a sitting position. The bottle is, again, supped from. Likely his last drink of it. Especially if he wanted to get back to the encampment without falling on the road back.]
So we have time, a quite likable strength in numbers, and a path to follow... however it ends. Hopefully, things are clearer now. But even then, if you're still at a loss, then we'll hit the mead like you wanted when we get back.
no subject
Her head tilts as she listens to his explanation, deciding that his feelings are valid. Not that she imagines they could have been anything but.]
I do like thinking my companionship is vastly superior to that of a bugbear.
[The tiefling is capable of issuing just a touch of humour, the corners of her mouth lifting. Although it is somewhat softened by the way he brings them right back to how they got to the present moment in the first place. Are her concerns assuaged at all? She's not certain. Fear still lingers in the deepest pits of her, though they are less to do with her and certainly more to do with Ara and the others.
Instead of providing him with immediate response, she simply turns his words over with a gentle consideration. Her smile lessens into something a bit more sweet. Appreciative. Perhaps a touch wistful.]
Perhaps I see clarity in a way I didn't expect. [Nepione admits quietly.] How that will impact me tomorrow morning, in the days to come, I don't know just yet. But this has been nice. Too many of these nights I spend in my own head. It was nice to spend a little time in yours instead.
no subject
[Ha, victory! He's under no allusion that getting a guffaw out of Nephione is something likely. Whether by her nature or the creature within her head, she seems far too solemn for something like that. So yes. He's taking this as a victory, thank you very much.
Saying that, her appreciation isn't lost on him. He gathers himself, getting to his feet and dusting off his knees, before he tilts the bottle upside down, emptying out what remains at the tree he had supported himself on. It may as well have a drink too.]
If you enjoyed it so much, then let's do this again. Any time you'd like to get out of your head for the night, come find me. Likely, there's all kinds of things out there as we travel. And I can try to make metaphors out of them.
[A bright smile follows, and he extends his hand to her.]
If you want, of course.
no subject
If not the same outright. For some reason, she continues to be surprised when non-tieflings don't seem to take notice or simply don't care about who and what she is. It's a good feeling to come into contact with. She doesn't respond immediately, instead eyeing his offered hand for just a breath or two before taking it. Her touch is remarkably careful, though perhaps expected given her rather transparent demeanour. As mindful of her claws as she ever is, she uses him to pull herself to her feet, giving another long look to the trees far below and into the distance.]
That's a tempting offer. [She admits, turning her attention back onto him, and for just a moment, she takes his hand between her own, as if through touch alone she might be able to express all of the warmth he grants her by giving her something so very simple. Or maybe, she's just a foolishly sentimental creature. It's probably that one.] Sometimes it's good for me to be in my head. Keeps me level. Shows me what I need to be really looking at and keeping in consideration.
[That is, restraint and discipline, Nepione's two favourite words, it seems.]
But when that burden becomes too much, I'll learn to let some of it go. Perhaps you'll be able with that. And I'll make sure I'm not too much of a stranger. Without taking advantage of your kindness, of course.