Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Alexandria, Egypt

Philomela hadn't really noticed much of a smell, and she's going to head on out, stopping once she finds the bodies. "Oh no..." Her first thought was that they were all dead, but then she'd notice the steady rise and fall of their chests. "What...could do this?" Ferous is approaching the bodies, and Philomela creeps after her, stooping to pick up the note.

Upon reading it the color drains from her face, and she holds the note so tightly in her hand that the pages crinkle. "I think I might be in trouble...." Well, the note said not to worry...but it also said that someone had been listening in on their conversation.

"They'll come around." It wasn't an answer to any spoken question, more like an audible announcement, even if murmered. Ferous stood, approaching Philomela and reaching out in silent request for the note that had so shaken her. If she acquiested, it took only a moment. "...Perhaps. He may just be letting you know he's watching." But that was a big may, so she'd leave it be for now. "You're protected; Father thought something may be awry and told me to watch this gate. Act normal, and see what may come. I'll stay nearby, even if in shadow, as you search the rest of the shelves today--unless called away entirely." With that, Ferous stepped back into the shadows of the great shelves and disappeared into the darkness seamlessly.

If she truly took until night's fall, she would find Ash to be gone, and likely her goat fairly tired in the barn. She knew the drill, however. He'd inulged in his drink, if the vats around told anything, and had retired to a truer place of residence.

((Annnnd I probably won't be on until Monday, so take your time posting. You know the setting to retire to; ultimately, it would take a state of lucid dreaming to open the right figurative (and depending on how she perceives it, literal) door in the mind before re-entering some portion of space; it would be largely due to her existing perception of it, and since she navigated there herself, it may have mild touches of her own mental influence, considering it's just a method of perceiving endless data.))

Only when Philomela went to return to her keep would a familiar spectre have searched out the unusual energy that was Draeval, wrapping out in a mix of fabric and flame somewhere adjacent to him. He would have had the entire day to finish his business. Where would he be found, anyway? "The door is opening. Are you ready to depart?"

((Second OOC verse the same as the first. Take your time fulfilling whatever he did etc.))

Philomela spent a good deal of her day in the library, trying to forget the note she had tucked into her clothing. Once the sun was heading on a downward path, she figured that it was time to head back to the barn. She didn't see Ferous around anywhere, but that didn't mean much of anything. She'd quietly make her way back to the barn, only to find it empty, save for her pet.

"Well don't you look worn out. What trouble did you and Lord Pan get into?" She'd pat the goat on the head, before making herself comfortable in the stall she'd been using. She was curled up with Namine for warmth, and it wasn't long before she was falling asleep.

It didn't take long at all for her dreaming to start, this time it was a couple of men and a very large, strange contraption that she didn't recognize at all. While normally she might have gone to investigate that further, she instead tried picturing a doorway to get to Ash. Since she thought of the place as a grand palace, the door she'd be imagining was a big ornate gold thing, once she passed through that and into space, she'd follow along a path she imagined was there, until she reached her destination. Any touches in the area made by her would be minimal and hardly noticeable. Maybe a few more orange things than normal.

"Lord Pan?" She'd look around, hoping she'd be able to find him.

"Mm?" It was something between a scholar distracted from his book, and a man waking from slumber. A few moments pause followed before the comet-swept, star-tipped bed was nearly center before her, with a relatively familiar image of a beast-man, albeit with human features, leaned forward; he was unclear at first, vague and blurry as if not fully solidified--be it in the place or her mind. "Ah, you did make it. What have you to ask tonight?"

Philomela moved closer to the bed, and she squinted at him, "You're sort of fuzzy." Squinting likely didn't help at all, but she was trying anyway.

"Ah..." She bit her lip, "You said...I could know more about...you?" She'd tilt her head, "Did you ask your question already?"

Well, if the squinting helped her perceive that she... perceived better, perhaps it did. Fuzzy? "Perhaps you should pet me and smooth me out. ...I have little to ask. You've shown yourself well enough by your words and thoughts. What a person asks tells much of them, actually. If it's about me, then go ahead. You can also ask about yourself, you know."

Philomela hadn't meant that sort of fuzzy, but she would reach out to stroke him. "It's too bad you don't look like this normally. I kind of like it."

That last bit takes her by surprise, and her eyes widen a bit, "Really? Could...could I ask where my gift came from?" It had been something she wondered about for awhile now. "You said earlier that you were going to ask what I asked last time...I was just wondering if you already had...that's all."

He nodded. "Of course, my answer is likely slightly varied from your own, but follows the same vein." What exactly that was, however, he said nothing more on. She had another question though, and the beast of a man was gladly leaning into her attentions. "You could, though if you mean your gift of foresight it's one I can't answer; that would require a drink from the well--and doing so all too often can be a curse. How important is the answer to you?"

Philomela glanced at the bed, "May I sit here Lord?"

As for her question, her smiled faded a bit. "It's only idle curiosity. I suppose it isn't that important."

If she had been told she could take a seat, she would, and she'd continue to pet the manbeast like he was an overgrown house cat. "Then...you said you would tell me the reason for your punishment?" She seemed hesitant, worried she might have overstepped her bounds.

"...The day I refuse you from my bed, I've truly gone mad. You may. Thankfully I am not so bound by physical hungers here." Though that did not mean he was without habitual urges--if she even knew what he meant.

The next question sucked most of the sexy out of the room, anyway. It even went fairly dark. Whatever he mumbled for a sentence or two was likely indiscernable, if it was even a language. "I left the skies, and brought its secrets with me." He paused, then... gestured around, at the vague idea of the rippling, prismatic fountain that was one of the few details left, save for the two of them. "The world grew out of control; first in knowledge, and then in practice, and then in cruelty and dark arts. Have you read the story of Deucalion, m'dear? Or in your time at the library, perhaps Gilgamesh's Epic. Few will tell you the full truth of why men's evil grew. Most have chosen to forget. I ensured I have not. My children were rampant, but all the more were the men. If it was only my children--hah, the world would still be crazed. No, I tainted men and repented--even if it could not be taken back. So here I am--my eye lost to the one I left the skies with, sealed to reflect on what I gave to men. I no longer see the future, but endlessly watch the past, never to forget."

Philomela looked confused for a moment before her cheeks darkened, "Is that -always- on your mind Lord?" She'd give a little shake of her head, though she looked slightly amused, even though she was embarrassed. That humor faded when he started grumbling and she lifted her hand off of him and set it in her lap.

"I have read Gilgamesh. Interesting story." She'd go quiet again, letting him finish. "That's...depressing." Her eyes would be downcast to her lap then, "Do you have many children Lord?" She had hoped it would be a better topic, but it likely wasn't. If he was done grumbling she would reach out to try and pet him again. "Why doesn't your brother feel the same remorse as you? Were you not raised in the same manner?"

Her question drew the idea of a cheshire grin--not even just on him, but nearly overwhelming the temporary image to split the nonexistant air around her. Indeed it was, and he didn't need to answer. At least it lightened the mood a bit, however momentarily.

It was back to a more perceivable man-form, if only to help her witness the nod; yes, many children. The other question drew another staring off into empty space.

"I don't know if you call it... raised. I was never an infant. I was a thought, whole in my conception-- in fact weakening and fading from my original intent as I stray from the source. Like a sun has rays, so does my maker have ideas. Not all parallel each other. Though there was, in fact, a time where we were not so different. We merely radiated in different directions." Leave it to him to make a parable out of the sun.

Still, he wasn't done. As long as she felt the way his words seemed to hang off, uncertainly, and didn't interrupt there was more to speak. "My sin became his. My mistake... cost us both dearly. We were chiefs--elders--generals, even. I witnessed the cruelty that descended from our decision and seperated myself from the world, for the most part--I leave weak apparitions and imprints as I find myself seduced by your planet and life still. On the other hand, he challenged what was done to his men. He approached with malice, and... Zeus..." The idea came with an odd flash; hesitance showed the struggle to search through his own memory banks and obtain the right word, in spite of being typically fluid about it. Different aspects, different ideas for a singular source, "divided him into many pieces; as I am not whole on your world, neither are any pieces that are him, but for a different cause. I have many brothers, and yet, one. There is little I could say that would make sense to you. What if I said that Apophis and the new sun were of two minds, but one broken soul? What if Apep were the blackened sin forged by both of us, in one method or another? What if I implied that Zeus was never the child of Kronos, but something far greater than men have credited him?"

Something crackled distantly, rolling in the chaos. "...I've become too lax about names. Thankfully most of the aforesaid are mere ideas now." Still, they were in a land of thoughts. He quieted himself, and let her ponder with one last idea: "It is a matter of... different personas. That is... all."

Philomela only flushed darker at his grin, of course that had been a silly question. Thankfully that topic wasn't pressed further.

He continues on and he doesn't seem exactly thrilled to be talking about this, so she'll remain quiet to let him speak. It really confuses her, that much is obvious by the look on her face. "So...you were a...young mind in a...grown up body?" She really doesn't understand how something could be born and yet not be a baby.

As for the rest about his brother, she'd chew on her lower lip. "That must have been...painful." She's still looking down at her lap, "He must be angry still then?" She's only guessing, but now she feels like she understands Apollo's coldness, just a little bit better.

She'd sigh, "I seem to have depressed the feeling in the room." She'd swing her legs, "Perhaps a change of subject is in order?" She didn't know what though so she'd just ask something else that was on her mind. "Do you happen to know how Sister Eudora is faring?"

(Apologies got a bit distracted and slacked off on posting. Ahem, Drae's time!)

Had tended to what he'd needed to and then had returned the barn. It didn't take him too long to relax into a light sleep. Which eventually turned into a topsy turvy dream. Drae's dreams weren't...dreams persay. They were glimpses of his sight, things he saw and throughout time.

Currently he was sitting in his dream in a field of blue bells as orange whispers of images swept by him. His pupils were dilated so largely that the orange images ghosted across the black in a dazzling light display.

Draeval would pull a hand up and snatch an image out of the air when it suited him, simply to study it better. But when his body was at rest his mind could really process what he saw during the day. Especially now that his nightmares were more subdued, since the war his dreams of Ero and the early centuries of his life faded some. But then again so had the memories, just enough at least to be further behind the other time lines.

Ferous had phased in to... find Draeval asleep and unable to witness the question. Of course, it took a moment to realize that, considering the distinct inability to see at the moment.

Ultimately, Ferous took to squatting over Draeval, a hand placed on him as quietly as possible. A physical connection to the body that was dreaming would make it far easier to find the appropriate scape. Ferous wasn't exactly as apt at finding dreamscapes as a certain counterpart. Ultimately Ferous soon phased into the... relative timescape, which was confusing at best, thoroughly offputting at worst.

"Draebal." A voice called through... prismatic blue bells, if he could even identify the vague weave and fire amidst the orange tones in the field, "Can you hear me? Come near so I can take you to Via, and we'll see you home."

"We are delving into matters I have little right to speak on. I can say the two matters are not directly attached, but not entirely separate either." Thankfully, she moved onward. "Soon to give birth, I imagine--and likely to go out of her mind thereafter."

Ash seemed to be getting irritated with her, so she stood up, and stood near the bed. "Out of her mind? Why?" She looked a little worried, "She's not going to get hurt is she?" She had grown fond of Eudora while they had been able to travel together. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Draeval felt the distinct prickling feeling of being "watched" before Fer spoke. The timescape shifted and in a single millisecond the entire world just flickered away leaving Draeval sitting in darkness and listening to the voice. It took him a second, pursing his lips before he remembered that he knew this was going to happen.

He hesitated before pushing giving a shake and responding, "I can 'earz ya juz fine." His real voice echoed out softly before he moved towards Fer. Following the sound of his voice. "Comin." What more could he say? He just kinda ghosted towards Fer.