Later that day the four of them had stumbled back to Natare. Syn would Br1n them soon, with plans to visit frequently. Thalia had a promise to keep after all.
Yarrow had to get back to training, and Marcus had to check in with the radio, and so that left Thalia and Honey to check in with Professor Claytop, not that Susan would have noticed more than Honey being flaky, Honey had assured Thalia.
She was still surprised that a mentor would be as laid back with a student, as she had already sent off three updates to Verdan on the situation, despite the holding pattern she was in for the moment, and the fact that Verdan had indicated that soon Marcus would not be her problem either.
She was going to ignore him, that much she knew, she was not going to be wracked with migraines for as long as she was going to be, just to give up this path. She was going to work with VRPI, with Orion as her mentor, and she was going to be smart about her research into humans and their artefacts - and she was going to use her rings as proof to get her through the door. Not that she did not think Orion wanted her less for his company.
Still, as they slipped into the art department, they were still talking about Thalia's way out.
Professor Claytop was busy though, talking to a woman in a simple linen suit. "My mistress would love to join your event, should you get enough participants. If you were to arrange further details, we might even feel the urge to host so that the artwork matches the mood of the night." The messenger bows and nodding to Thalia and Honey, departs.
Honey leads the walk forwards, confident with her disposition. "Professor."
Claytop looks at her with a gentle smile. "You were missing our last meeting, was everything alright?"
"Impromptu visit down to Brambleberry, pesky hair stylist." Honey says flippantly, gesturing to Thalia's baldish head.
Thalia blushes and gives a sheepish smile.
"Oh dah-ling, do we need to craft a wig, or just design you a dress that fits the mood of all this?" Claytop looks to Honey for support, the professor's eyes flashing black for a moment beneath those spectacles as she stalks towards them, easily dwarfing both ladies.
"That's not a trouble at all. I will just have to live with what I have, I have a new outfit from -" Thalia starts to protest before Claytop cuts her off.
"She's going to need a dress obviously. And who do we know who likes to work with the female form for some sort of art piece to get her grove, less back and more on display?" She talks to Honey exclusively now, but what's strange to Thalia is she doesn't turn away from her, just changing the positioning to be a triangle shape, constantly looking at her as if her body language has a say, even if her words do not. If she did not crave knowledge, she might be tempted to redo her Academy years in art under Claytop.
"So you are not angry we did not communicate we were going up to Brambleberry?" Thalia says after a moment confused.
"You're both adults, as long as things get done on time, I have no worry about where you are until then."
Thalia blushes, rubbing her hand across her bare head, still not used to the lack of hair, before looking away. "I guess we are."
"So dress, and artist. Yes m'am." Honey says, grin wide with a few too many teeth in it. Still disconcerting when she smiles like that. "Say. Didn't you say you had a fancy meeting tonight?"
Later, Yarrow would escort her to the doors of Moonlit Melodies, the outside familiar to her now, open this time, and less blurry than the dream that returns to her in drips and drops. She still shivers with Yarrow's hungry eyes on her, and inside her mind, those metal rings on both their fingers.
Yarrow has their training clothes on, and has invited Honey out to run - though Thalia has no clue how the artist was planning on catching up. "Does she know you are wearing the ring tonight?" She asks them, tugging the seethrough shawl tighter around her neck to try and cover the faux-hide collar that adorns her neck.
"Honey knows, but we both worry about you attending this meeting with those headaches still going on." Yarrow straightens the shoulders of the tiered dress, so that the shoulders sit evenly above the heat circuits painted into her skin there and on her back, stylised into the shape of wings. All these layers are so heavy on her body, and yet it clings to her like a second skin, even as her top half is held up by flimsy straps that take every inch of self control not to fiddle with.
She can tell she is desirable from the way Yarrow looks at her in her mind, but she's also one step away from crawling out her skin. She's just glad that the rings act as a shadow in the mind, not a full blow shout, as she'd hate to see up close what her thoughts are doing to them.
Thalia steps into Moonlit Melodies, the door peeling open to let her through. The scent hits her once more even as she pushes a shoulder through the red curtains of the entrance, engulfing her in the smell of sandalwood and honey and tea, though tonight the tea smells of Whisper of Twilight, a blend she knows as a more rich black tea made from steeping the black petals of the Acretia through gently warming water. Still decadent, still over the top.
She sees in the centre of the room a bard on a mountain of pillows, a long instrument drawn across her knees. It is a gourd like thing partly-filled with a fluid and several strings lying down its length and it gives off deep twangy sounds. The bard holding it is the most gorgeous woman she has ever seen, and a part of Thalia lusts for just a moment over this woman - black silken hair spills over her delicate shoulders, framing a full face and drawing the eyes down that sinful body covered in barely opaque fabrics, the traces of her own circuit tattoos glowing all across her forest green form as her voice calls out in haunting song. It has to be Deluna Vesperine, and a blush stains Thalia's face as she catches herself staring.
She turns and sees the familiar flower blooming with bursts of fire, and an empty spot and slides into the position, rolling her shoulders at the lack of attention she is getting, just like she wants. She doesn't see Valtor anywhere, but she does feel a thrill race up her spine from Yarrow starting their run.
Thalia rubs a thumb over the ring and marvels at the connection it has strengthened with Yarrow, regretful for hurting them and making them afraid when the headaches started, but delighted to be able to share so much more of herself with them without judgement.
<You got this.> Is mirrored in both memory and feeling of support as she watches the fire-bloom. A cup is placed beside her, filled with steaming liquid that she will use Br1n to mediate a payment for later tonight as she leaves. This place is too north-market for her to trade for it, plus where would she keep the items in this dress?
Songs change and Deluna is standing, dancing gently as she plays with two finger cymbals, made from tree nuts, her voice a haunting song about a woman forced to dance for a lover until her body ached and she died of heartache. Thalia is so enthralled she barely notices when a weight settles opposite her. She half expects it to be Xylos in the flesh, but it is only Valtor.
"She wrote it about me, you know. Back when we were trading affections. I think she thought I was spurning her or something, but I just don't feel - desire?" He looks at Deluna wistfully, even as Thalia notices that Deluna has danced away from them at the sight of Orion.
"You don't feel desire and yet you dress like someone about to give some sleazy pick up line and an offer to ride your bio-cart." Thalia says, motioning to the open shirt, the circuit tattoos that seem to point naturally down to faux-hide pants that are at least a size too small.
Orion leans back stunned, even as she hears a chuckle from Deluna as she dances closer. "Is this man troubling you?" Deluna asks, teasing in her voice, even as she pointedly ignores Orion.
Thalia covers her mouth a shakes her head. "We are here for a business deal and Mr Valtor was just telling me how much of an idiot he was to give you the wrong messages."
Deluna's eyes sparkle. "And what messages should he have given me?" Deluna stops the cymbals and takes a seat directly between Thalia and Orion, causing the younger woman to blush brightly.
"That you are a goddess and he is a damned fool, but that he was lucky to have you in his life." Thalia laughs nervously, finding Deluna appealing, but entirely not her speed. "And would you be as lucky?" Deluna teases back, tracing a long nail over Thalia's neck.
"No I would be as damned fool." Thalia has to admit, taking a large gulp of air as Deluna sits back, confused.
"At least you have some honesty." Deluna says, voice cool as she stands and starts another song away from them. The song is haunting and sad, and Thalia regrets not teasing back this siren in their midst. "You've grown a touch since we met a week ago. Is that much going on in your life these days that slow growth is being changed like a bio-mage is sitting in your life?" Valtor says slowly, watching her.
Thalia turns, confused to look at him. "What do you mean?"
"You said no in a situation you would have kept going down even when you would have been uncomfortable. When I met you, you would not have said 'stop'. Usually that takes a bit to learn. I'm asking if everything is ok."
She looks at him critically and sees that past the appearance, the attitude, the sheer worship he gives the human world - he doesn't appear to be lying. He never has appeared to lie to her - kept his motives hidden sure, but his words have been truthful so far. She decides to pluck the fruit now, pulling something from a pocket in her voluminous skirts. It is the VRPI pendant. "I'm going to need some helping hands to put this on, if you can assure me a good project to work on."
He places a hand over hers and smiles. "That does not answer the question, I would not be a good mentor-to-be if I did not make sure we started from strength."
She sighs and looks at him, trying to push past the cynicism that is welling up inside her. Honesty is one thing, caring, truly caring is something she does not think she is ready to trust him with just yet.
"Call this a no for now. Call this a try again after I know you a little better. I'm going to sit here, enjoy the tea and the location I cannot afford to get into normally and I'm going to call you mentor.... tomorrow. If you can set it all up with the academy of course."
She should be asleep. Thalia can feel Yarrow sleepily wondering why she is not. They must not have taken the ring off either, though she might have wanted to know less about how all that felt later in their run. She flushes at the memory as she squeezes past the hasty membrane secured over the rock face.
They put these up to ward people off, even though a circuit would be more secure - but more effort and more waste should someone want to get past. And Thalia wants to get into this cave. As so many people had reminded her this week - primary sourcing was how she made all her best discoveries. Which she never published. Under Orion that part at least was going to change.
She has the paint ruined dress, tied at the knees as to not drag, her tools in a toolbelt, and a light circuit painted across her forehead. Without the hair, that actually had been easier to assemble, and so now she walks the familiar path through the cave.
Cave was a disingenuous way of calling this space - it was flush carved stone, stacked and left to time. Previously she had thought it a construction from before the city had decided against using things from the ground - given Natare itself has a foundation made from a similar process - but given the visions, given the way everyone keeps circling her, she suspects something a little darker - and so tonight, and her journey to the Gnarled Grove, she plans to put that suspicion to the test.
She passes through a fork, travelling the path she is familiar with, tracing her hand over the rough material. She ignores the well explored hallway, and the room with the window holes that open onto soil, taking herself into pathways away from where she has been.
She thinks this might have been a tower of some sort prior to its sinking into the dirt, winding her way to the large room she suspects is at its base.
"You got this." She whispers to herself, turning the light circuit higher, bathing even her shadow in that green tinted light. Her shoulder finds a aged membrane and she traces it back to a dust caked circuit. She documents its shape in her journal binding, before activating it with regret. The door open and cracks along its centre in spiderwebs of petrification and rot.
Thalia eases past this first evidence of foliad presence in the tower, even as she scuffs her sandal covered heel on the lip at the stone base of the entrance. She winces and moves forwards, more careful now as she searches for proof. There is something on the back wall of the site, a depiction of one group trading with another, humans in their metal suits.
Tracing out a grid with her toe into the sand caking the ground, she pulls out her plumbob and gets to transcribing the room on her binding.
Hours pass, her mind and body tiring even as she feels Yarrow snoring inside her skull. She is getting more used to them the longer this day goes, now that she knows to reach for them.
She squats and surveys her workings, loving the thoroughness but frustrated that she has come away with nothing more than archaeologist could. She traces the circuits traced on her arm thinking for a moment before pulsing the lightest touch of light and sound across the space. Dust flits free, drifting from the mural like forbidden snow, light catching its journey like thousands of microscopic glimmer and she sees something catching her eye, set in under those outstretched hands of offering.
She pulls out her container as she approaches, grabbing her brush to flicking away the stone residue to reveal a pocket of encased air. Not dust, air, then something, but like a bubble with nothing apart from dust where some sort of film should be.
Inside the bubble is a swirling device, wood and magic circuits mixed with writhing tubes filled with fluid and those transport worms, this impossibly living device in this sunken tower. She gently wraps her hands around the pocket of air, and lifts, easing it into the container and strapping that to her hip. She records its location and finalises her notes before making her way back. Orion and VRPI will enjoy seeing this, especially as it feels like showing off a foliad relic will be beneficial to showing off that the institute isn't just for glorifying humans. She smiles as the moon hits her face, gazing over at the city and anticipating the walk back through the cool air, the light catching off the silvered surfaces of the solar leaves cascading the city.
