[Open] A Meeting in the Morning Light

[Joran]

Early morning, 90th Ashan, 719

The Open Surgery didn't begin with fanfare. There was no music, no revelry, and no air of joviality. This was a serious event, and the people of Desnind knew how to act the part. There was some laughter and friendliness now and then, but everybody knew how deadly serious it was that they find a way to protect their home. The Bad Lands were incredibly close--a few trials' walk away, and few (if any) understood why or how that could be. More importantly, and the main question of the day, was how the advance could be stopped. If it didn't, then at this rate Desnind itself would fall victim to the curse...and what of the southern border of the Bad Lands? Moseke only knew how that was faring.

The people had not yet come together into a single gathering, presided over by the Original Five. True to form, the predominantly Sev'ryn gathering had begun as people showed up to talk and splintered off into small groups as the whims of the people permitted. All ages and walks of life were represented here--from common folk to members of the Oludibo Cikakken, Aiserist clergy, and even the cloaks of the Order of Adunih could be seen in the different groups. Children talked alongside adults at times, though there were far fewer of them and they tended to stick to their own groups. The elders, however, were actively sought out. Most groups wanted the opinion of the oldest among the Sev'ryn.

One group in particular had drawn Joran's attention. A solid group of four or five all discussing more calmly and pointedly than many of the other groups. They seemed to actually be considering each other, rather than merely talking at one another--though few seemed of a mind to change. Not much in the way of passion, and certainly not outright arguing--exactly the sort of people Joran wanted to listen to. He was sitting on a nearby tree branch, slender legs dangling into the open air beneath him. His zipper rested on a higher branch, its wings vibrating softly now and again where it was tethered to the wood. Joran intended to go out foraging soon, and didn't want to trek back to get his mount.

"No, no. We need to turn our hearts and minds to the Immortals in this time of trials," The middle-aged Sev'ryn man said. He was a self-identified Aik of the Cikakken, and his opinion held some weight in the group. He was also, it seemed, a hardline Aiserist who was peaceful to a fault. He had faith that the patron Immortals of Desnind would lead them to their victory.

Immediately of course, a fiery young woman (really more of a teen, but Joran wasn't sure) countered with, "Moseke might save us, but we need to be ready to fight! Fewer lives will be lost if we can hold a line against them!"

On and on the discussion went--bouncing between those two for a short while, with a third (much older) Sev'ryn being asked to contribute every few bits. Else, he kept his silence. Joran, for his part, merely observed. These people wouldn't much care what he had to say, he suspected...but that didn't matter until he actually had something to say. For now, he was somewhat unsure...though he was starting to believe a military response had some merit. After all, Joran wasn't a great fan of sitting around and waiting for the blessed of Moseke and Ymiden to get the Immortals' attention. It felt a little too much like an excuse to let other people solve the problem.

[Cirrina]

"All we came here to do was for you to be nosy and do nothing as usual, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Marin said cheerfully, "I wouldn't have known that."

Cirrina rolled her eyes heavily, tempted to slam his head into the table but peoples nerves were already frayed but she'd seen more than most in this room and she had no doubt that is why he brought her. "If you plan do nothing why bother coming at all?"

"I didn't know I would be doing nothing."

"Liar." Cir snapped finally, flicking him viciously with a tentacle, her teeth flashing in agitation. She was growing tired of his games. "Why do I have to--"

"Do you want me to show you something new?"

"Fine." There was no hesitation as they went back and forth quietly, the Mer knew she would take all she could from the infuriating man, as always. But, she had to admit that after all she seen she was mildly curious if these idiots would continue to sit and pray or take matters into their own hands. Sitting and praying had done them little good so far and the Mer couldn't understand why they thought it would make a difference now.

"These people are all far too worked up to listen to reason properly, why don't you...ease some of that tension?"

The Mer grinned, a feral thing that would not have suited her old pretend human skin but suited this form just fine. She reached out with her ether, not paying attention to which magic she called on, surprised when she heard the shrieking note of frustration come from a passionate sounding girl--almost a woman--and blinked, pulling back. She'd ask Marin about it later, for now she focused on the girl feeling through the twists of her emotions--

"Do you have it yet?"

"Almost."

"When you find it. Hide it."

"How?" The Mer hissed irritably as the silky thread of the girls frustration seemed to fall away, nearly lost within the other thoughts.

"Tie it up."

Cir didn't ask for clarification she just tugged and tugged and twisted and twisted until it felt like a knot, then thrust it away from her. With no more subtley than she had preformed the task with the girl sat, as if the fire had died within her though her passion hadn't.

"Don't you understand how many could die if we don't do something?" Now the girl was pleading, her fiery righteous gone away, just as Cir had wanted it.

"It's a pity you can't do that with your temper."

If her tentacle wrapped around his wrist and squeezes enough to hear a crack, it was muffled in the din of people talking.

[Joran]

The small Tunawa's eyes fell upon the odd pair as they approached the small group. A typical specimen of the Tall Folk (if not a Sev'ryn), the male of the pair was fairly unremarkable though he clearly was not from around Desnind. His dress wasn't quite in line with the Sev'ryn norm, and his features were just a little bit different from the sort that Joran was used to looking at. The female, though... She was fascinating. Dark blue eyes fell upon her, studying her inquisitively. Utterly inhuman, perhaps even more so than Joran himself was. Still, the Tunawa could tell that she was female. She was aquatic, all tentacles and scales and slimy flesh, and even through her alien nature Joran got the impression that she was quite a dour person.

Just then, the agitated young woman let out a shriek of anger and Joran flinched. He frowned down at her in confusion--she was passionate (this was her home, she had every right to be such), but hadn't seemed prone to that kind of outburst. Then a few minutes later, it was like that emotion was sucked out of her all at once and she sat down like a puppet with its strings cut. Something odd was going on here, Joran realized. He had no idea what, but he suspected it had something to do with the odd couple who had just approached to listen.

The fiery girl had started to lose the attention of the crowd, Joran could see...and her point hadn't been settling well with most of the group anyway. They were, as a whole, inclined to agree that the Immortals were the best solution. Joran loved his home and his people (even the tall ones), but he had to admit he didn't like how heavily they all relied upon their patron deities. On an impulse, Joran hopped down from the branch. After all, Tunawa were easy to ignore unless they made a splash. He managed a passable landing, and tried not to give away how much a fall from several feet jarred him. His kind were resilient, but hardly invulnerable. Getting to his feet, he brushed himself off and looked about at the eyes all around him.

"Uh..." Joran grimaced; that was not how he wanted to start off. In Xanthea, he continued, "She's right. We can't just..." Here he trailed off, glancing at the two foreigners, and continued in barely-serviceable Common, "Ymiden and Moseke are strong. Much strong. But... We are strong too. Not afraid for fighting." A glance at the girl in question gave him a little extra courage; she was smiling in appreciation of his agreement. His kind were not taken seriously, and it helped that he was riding on the coattails of such a...forceful case.

"Fight, Tunawa? Where would you be?" The Aik asked in Xanthea, not bothering to accommodate the outsiders. His tone was scolding, like lecturing a child. "You shouldn't ask us to kill and bleed, when you can't."

Joran scowled fiercely at the Aik. It seemed the man had touched a nerve. He resisted the urge to call the man a coward--that would be the height of rudeness to one who had dedicated his life to the service of Desnind...however condescending Joran found his tone. Stubbornly remaining in Common, Joran replied, "I fly. See Zipper?" He pointed upward, to where the giant dragonfly rested on the branch he had occupied until just recently. "Will help."

The Tunawa folded his arms, staring the Aik down. The man just shook his head as if giving up on convincing the delusional Tunawa and letting somebody else try. If Cirrina was looking closely, she might be able to tell that he was rapidly losing confidence in his offer. That was not a smart thing he'd done, Joran just realized. He was, at best, a middling flier. Not to mention his zipper was hardly an overachiever. Well, too late to do anything but smile and take whatever minor points his offer got him in the argument.

[Cirrina]

"What did I do?" Cir asked, curiously as the girl practically was useless for several minutes it seemed, struggling to get her fire back. It was different, had felt different than put something in, it was almost like taking something out. Thinking back to before her...adventure in the forest it would have been helpful to make the rampaging beasts not want to eat them. "You did something like this to me before, when you put me to sleep."

"I did." He made her wait several beats before he was finally told her, as if reluctant to do so even though she'd kept her end of the bargain, "Knotting."

"Kinky." The Mer replied cheekily, enjoying his eyes flash with both irritation and interest though mostly irritation. She was still angry he'd gone and lost her gem because of his stupid tests, for him to even think he could be angry with her made her almost angry. Though she was far more interested in the idiocy unfolding in front of her. There would always be time to mess with Marin. For now she found herself hyper focused on the little plant person. She knew of these things. Felt it in her bones, the Call had gone out. She'd heard her owns Reisah. Her eyes narrowed, this one was not tall and Cir was not stupid. Though she could offer it to her brethren in justice, this city was full of them. The city of the Immortal who cared for them but not for their water kin they'd murdered in cold blood.

She could kill him but the others would kill her and swiftly, she would not be able to take enough of them with her. An idea formed as she watched the little twit preach. She could put emotions in him, why get her hands dirty--though she did love to--when she could make him kill himself. And none of the land dwellers would be the wiser. Idly the Mer wondered how many she could get rid of with this method when it pointed to it's bug like that could do anything, without permission a genuine laugh bubbled forth, silencing the group as they glared at her and Marin.

"You find our survival funny, fish?"

"Well yes," Cir snarled, standing and sidling toward the table and the little stick bug and its rider, "you all know you will have to fight. It's inevitable." Casually she pulled out a bone from her pouch and tapped it to her lips, "The bones say so and what I've seen says so. You did not volunteer to look, most of you cowered away here, waiting for others to solve your problems. It's pathetic and the fact that this mulch would fight but you wouldn't tells of what will happen. Or will you wait for your beloved Immortal to save you all? How many could she bring back to life? How many would die in the process? You're fools if you think anything but fighting is left for you."

"How dare you!"

"Cirrina!" Marin made to hold her back and she could hear the haunting pulse of his magic as he spun it to calm the group but the Mer moved strangely swift with her human legs and slid away to swat at the Dragonfly, fully intending to crush it while her other hand reached for the Tunawa, "And you are a fool little tree if you think you and your pest make any difference against what is out there. But by all means," Cir smiled icily at the being, "volunteer to be smashed, none of mine would mourn you."

[Joran]

Joran noticed Cirrina's attention--it wasn't hard considering she was by far the most conspicuous member of the small crowd. The rude laugh she let out near-instantly turned the crowd against her, and even Joran's dark eyes narrowed in distaste. Didn't she understand that their survival was at stake? Hers included. Joran could only guess what the Bad Lands would do once it reached the sea, but he was certain it wouldn't be at all good for anything in or near the waters around the Lori.

Though her performance angered him, the Tunawa was seriously creeped out by what she was doing. The Common she was using was quite a bit out of his league, and so he only understood maybe one word in three...but he got the gist. The people of Desnind (his people!) were stupid, weak, and useless. They'd all die, and this overgrown trout didn't give a damn. Now that really got his sap simmering. He stared her down without backing up, his zipper shimmying a little bit where it had landed beside him. Joran really, really wanted to back down, but...well, he'd done entirely too much of that in his life, and he really disliked this foreigner coming in and dismissing everything they could possibly do rather than talking about it like an adult.

The rest of the crowd scowled or called out indignantly, and Joran felt fairly safe. They had his back, after all. Tunawa weren't taken too seriously at the best of times...and while that was usually very irritating, at least it meant he could always rely on somebody to want to play the hero and protect the tiny, weak Tunawa. It deeply galled him, but that beat getting tossed around on a whim. Then...that indignation died. It was like the anger flowed out of them, and they shuffled in silence as the creature seized Joran in one tentacle and only narrowly avoided killing his zipper with another. The thing fled with only an instant to spare, and Joran's head swiveled between where the zipper stood and his captor's face in shock. Had she just tried to kill his zipper? Unlike the rest of the crowd, the effects of Marin's magic slid right off of Joran and he only seemed to grow angrier as the moments slid slowly by.

Wooden features twisting into an unfamiliar expression, the little man snarled at the Mer. "Dry out in hot sun," He said, making sure to enunciate it in Common for her benefit. Then, lacking the presence of mind for much else, he bent down and tried to sink his teeth into the cool flesh of her tentacle. Tunawa were hardy beasts, and while she could do him notable harm subdued as he was, she'd likely pay for it in blood. He had no intention of letting go if he managed to sink his teeth into her, not without taking a mouthful of flesh with him. Joran generally preferred words, but...well, she was squeezing entirely too tightly for his liking.

[Cirrina]

It bit her.

The Mer blinked twice as she laughed, “Well at least he braver than you lot!”

Marin watched uneasily, already reaching for her tentacles that were curling around the Tunawas neck and her smile turned savage. Vaguely she wondered if she could convince the Tunawa to let her kill it. Make it long to have it head ripped clean off and crunched like a berry.

Slowly she lowered herself to its view, her eyes promised dead and her voice was colder than the frozen waters of Cylus as she spoke clear enough for the room to hear.

“You dare draw blood of any of mine? You dare? Drying out would have been less painful than what was done to mine brothers and sisters. I dare say our creator isn’t as cruel…but I can be.”

Her words were softer and softer but no less poisonous as she finished. Already she knew what she looked for in the threads, the color so bright and at the bottom of the tangle but she focused on it solely. The Mer wanted the little twig agreeable, agreeable enough that it might nod when the silkily sweet offer left her lips.

“Cirrina! Enough!” Her mentors hissed words were ignored and he was focused on crowd control, far too busy to bother with her and her toy.

“Tell me, little twig, how would you feel if I pop your head open like an unripened berry?”

It would have been simple enough to attempt to do so without asking but the Mer was angry, not stupid. There were witnesses and this city seemed to be teeming with nosey Immortals and to do so would likely end badly for them all and she had toyed with the idea briefly before deciding this was far more inventive.

“Stop it.” The words were hissed with finally, Marins hand landing on her shoulder and squeezing but the Mer ignored him still. After all, this entire mess was his fault to begin with. A lie to herself that made her chest itch and heart burn. Was this even truly her doing or that fools curse? Clenching her teeth she shook off his hand though her gaze never left the Tunawas’.

“Marin, kindly remove your hand or my teeth will do it for you.”

OOC

I am so, so sorry this took so long!