Scientists have found that if you get 8 hours of sleep and are still tired during the day it’s because your soul is cursed and your body doesn’t think you deserve happiness. There is no cure or treatment
Ash skin and soot somber eyes. In reflection, Adler witnessed what had become of her. What equilibrium truely meant. Though she were no Ashkin, she look far more the part now than ever. Stitched from head to toe, and pale as a corpse. Tearing her gaze away, she peered through a snow coated window. It was cold in Lavender Beds, far colder than it had ever been.
"What right have I?" Adler uttered, words tender and soft.
It was the morning of Starlight and gifts had been given, the kindest small stitched things she had crafted of those she held so dear. Her hands were tired, and there was little more for her to give now. The night had been cruel, and so too the ache in her fingers. This form allowed her strength she has never known, yet even still she were aether bound as ever.
The door to her room echoed a knock and she gave an audible call of allowance. Lucine had come, rose wrapped gift in hand. Adler observed it with utmost curiosity. Though, she should not assume all things are hers.
Adler's voice rasped, as it always did. "Fair morning, dearest Lucine... I pray the chill has been warded off well?"
The room was a mess, and often it was. Lucine caught sight of the Patchwork's hands, sore and burdened, bandaged with poor etiquette and even poorer quality. She sighed.
"Come here, Adler. Let me see."
Placing the gift upon the table by the window, Lucine seated herself on the couch and extended a hand, the other brushing down her black dress. Adler obliged, making her way across the room to settle beside her in her grey gown.
"Closer." Lucine grumbled, a gentle curl of her hand to further encourage her.
Adler did so, shifting ever closer until their knees touched. Her hands taken in Lucine's own, and considered with attentive eyes.
Lucine grumbled, peering up to the Xaela. "Do you just not feel your hands when you do things or do you just like the pain?"
She didn't respond, but Adler hadn't realized how badly they'd been cut and bothered. We're the tolerances of their pain.. shared? She would wonder what her other half sensed, if anything.
The Seer sighed and went to work, casting her aether forth to mend her wounds, relishing in quiet presence. Silence settled there. It held them with ease as the moments passed. Even still Adler could not be left to her own lest she loosen her own threads.
"There."
"Hast thou enjoyed thy Starlight, Lucine?"
"As much as one can. Still upset about there being no spirits haunting the Gingerbread house, but maybe it's for the best."
A soft chortle came from Adler.
"I shall endeavour to discover such, that thou mayest find a challenge most worthy of thy talents."
"I'm sure you noticed." Lucine began, pulling the gift from the table and placing it onto Adler's lap. "But I have taken the liberty of studying your condition and with the aether gathered, I've come to a conclusion."
"Hast thou? And what dist thou discover?"
"The conclusion is in the box."
With some hesitancy, and a nudge from Lucine, Adler began to work at the gift, tearing the paper and revealing the box within, that which was pulled apart to reveal a deep glowing grey crystal. She beheld the sight of it, lips parting slightly.
"It... Is... A crystal?"
Her hand lowered into the box to roll it into her hand. As she had, it began to float and raised straight up above her palm. The sight drove Adler to wonder. It felt as though it could sense her disposition.
"Not just any... It stores Astral and Umbral aspects of aether." Lucine began, glancing to the stone before setting upon Adler. "It can keep the balance between you two... Less needing to go berserk and more cooperation. At least-- that's the idea."
Adler understood these concepts... They'd been a common theory yet due to Wrath's unwillingness to cooperate, the crystal would never have worked... Yet now?
"Forsooth ..."
Lucine reached forth to cup under Adler's hands, the glow of the crystal bathing them both. "You will still need to find one who can teach you how to use it... But you have the tool. That much I can offer."
When Adler finally managed to pull her gaze away from the crystal, she observed Lucine with curiosity. Was this an apology for what had happened, or simply Starlight familiarities? She decided it was best not to ask.
"Thou dost honor me with a path I had only dreamed of, Lucine... I shall endeavour to strengthen myself, that I may need not be a burden to others any longer and--"
Lucine leaned forward and silence followed as whatever thoughts Adler held had vanished the moment their horns brushed. Lips met in tender embrace and suddenly, it did not feel quite so cold anymore.
In the humble quarters of the Avillion estate, Adler had gathered her steadfast allies for an important meeting. Before them sat a table and there settled a series of gingerbread crackers and paste. The Patchwork Xaela peered at the sight as the others gathered, before she would finally look up to see each of them.
Lance and Narin stood nearest, speaking on the sight before them, theorizing about what horrors awaited them all. Etche and Leofwyna had taken up the couch where Leofwyna had cozied up next to the Rava as they conversed subtle musings of their own. Both had worn matching hideous sweaters.
"I bid thee greetings, friends. Before thee, I lay a task of grand proportions... What lay before us be a haunted entity. Within this malevolent edible-- a spirit awaiting freedom. Yet there be only one task we need at present ... To build it into a suitable abode." Adler said, crossing her arms and awaiting their confirmation to proceed with the ritual.
The group all seemed to understand that well enough, though each one gave their own interpretations as to what that meant.
"Why don't we destroy the crackers and let that free the soul instead?" Narin suggested, hand raising to his chin to observe the supplies.
Lance disagreed, "No, No, it is far simpler, you see. We shall find a more suitable host for the spirit in inhabit." A hand lowering to tap the table.
"Um..." Adler mused, brows furrowing as she rose a finger to speak, but was cut off by Etche's quick wit.
"Both of you are incorrect. We should test the spirits will to survive, and only then should it be allowed an opinion at all." Etche said with utmost pride. That is, until her ears were grabbed and pulled to bring her closer to Leofwyna's side.
"Normally I'd agree with you, my Dear Etche--but a dumb bunny fails to consider the alternative. We should sample the spirit and see if we can't replicate it's possession of the gingerbread crackers in other things, that we may find a way to end all possessions altogether."
"Friends-- I..." Adler began, yet once more another spoke.
"That suggestion is simply a roundabout way of my own." Lance said, crossing his arms.
"True. Great minds do think alike, Mad Rabbit." Leofwyna affirmed.
"No, they don't. They think different things all the time." Narin stated flatly, shaking his head with great disappointment. "You two are both just too eager to see what else you can do with a spirit that, really, should be left to pass on its own. I still think we should just crush it and see what happens."
The room erupted into debate upon what to do about the mysterious entity. Yet Adler would then climb upon the table and extend her hands to the skies.
"My dearest companions!!!" Her raspy voice exclaimed, scratchy from the attempt.
As the group silenced slowly, they peered to Adler . . . And she spoke.
"I wished only to ask if thou wouldst accompany me in building small houses out of Gingerbread.... There is no spirit... I simply feared that such a simple request would be too bothersome for which to take thy time with... Forgive me..."
The others looked to one another with some measure of confusion, before Narin shook his head. "Well, we are all already here and we have perfectly good Gingerbread crackers to work with."
"Yes." Leofwyna smiled, "We would love to, Adler." One arm wrapping around Etche to hold her there.
Etche attempted to stand, "Yeah I--" but another tug came, bring her back down to the couch. "Guhhh!!"
Lance gave them each a measured look before returning to Adler with a nod of his own. "I arrive to your aid as always, Lady Autumnwind. Who else will ensure this little home has proper submersible to deploy?"
Adler looked to them each, a contorted smile then. "Thy company. Tis all I ask."
Lucine arrived then, carrying bags of treats that Adler had asked her to retrieve. With a sigh, she placed them down on one end of the table and spoke.
"So, we're giving the spirit to me to study, right?"
Snow had come to Gridania, in some miraculous fashion, though the spirits did well to coil Mourn in tender warmth. Valeria had worn a scarf, in additional to her usual black long sleeve and plaid skirt. Lucine had bundled up for the occasion, and Mortimer remained in her old worn wares, likely shivering. They each had arrived to a wooded area just beyond the city boarders.
They had found a tree for which to decorate for the occasion, and each had brought their own additions for which to add. Valeria had explained to Mourn that Starlight was a festive time where gifts and cheer were exchanged to one another. Though there was still time to aquire said gifts, they had opted to grant Mourn her very own festive tree, to be decorated with various things found about the Shroud.
"See, Scarlet? I hang the crystal like this and-- Now It looks more... Cheery! You know how some city folk wear like, stuff on their ears? Same concept." Valeira explained, handing Mourn her own crystal to place upon one of the trees' limbs.
"That isn't the same thing at all..." Lucine muttered, waving her hands and casting out a series of glimmering stars that fluttered around the bark, settling on various branches to illuminate the evening grounds.
"Mayhaps not." Mortimer affirmed, taking the largest star that Lucine had brought and hoisting it up with her staff to place it at the very top of the tree. There it shined for the whole forest to see, as it's very own beacon of cheer.
Mourn stared past the tree, somewhere in the darkness where the faintest shimmers of essence roamed near, though they did nothing of significance, she voiced her words clear.
"The gaze of the unseen draws upon this place." That single scarlet eye drifting to the star above the tree. Whatever thoughts she had then did not meet her lips.
However, Mortimer's stave had come into view, blocking Mourn's sight of the star. There upon the end, a small mistletoe hung, swaying in the chill air. The warmth of Mourn's breath rose to meet it as she spoke. "A ward."
Lucine rocked her hips toward Dreamer, knocking her closer to Mourn. "Oops!~"
Valeria stumbled through the snow, catching herself just before she could crash into Mourn. "Hey-- what the fuck is the big idea?!" She scowled back at Lucine.
It seemed Mortimer and Lucine had devised a devious plot. Both peered toward Valeria with intense amusement beneath their witchy caps, snickering at the scene before them.
When Dreamer had realized what has been hanging there, she made a quick attempt to reach up and snag it off the stave-- but Mortimer was quicker and raised it higher than she could reach.
"Valeria, is that yours?" Mourn asked, still focused on the mistletoe with some familiarity.
"It will be once I--" With a final hop and a sigh of defeat, Valeira crossed her arms and gritted her teeth, narrowing her gaze back at the old hag. She would make her pay...
Mortimer spoke with amusement. "Come now, Dearest Dreamer. Surely Mourn must be made aware of the significance of such a symbol!" She teased, wiggling the stave. "You would not wish someone else to explain it to her, hm?"
Lucine held back her laughter, awaiting with growing curiosity to see just what she would do now. It always made her overjoyed to see Dreamer in the most precarious of situations.
Valeria's heart sank then, the look of horror at such a suggestion. No, that would not do at all. Some might take such a meaning and twist it beyond comprehension! No, it must be her! The truth must be revealed!
"Yeah, yeah, whatever--" She flicked her hand up toward the two, turning toward Scarlet, only to find that she had already been facing her-- which caused her own breath to hitch in surprise.
Scarlet spoke. "What awareness do I lack, Valeria?"
The question struck Valeria with a sudden lack for words, as a dream might leave after awakening from a restful sleep-- not that Dreamer ever had those. "Just some other stupid festive shit the city folk do-- You know?"
"I do not." Mourn said.
Lucine snickered, "The mistletoe means you share the peace with someone else under it." Her hand raised to hide her mischievous smirk, "But there's more to it than that."
"Indeed," Mortimer leaned forward, one hand behind her back as she looked up to the barries upon the mistletoe. "This ward bares magic, so long as each promise is fulfilled with--"
"A kiss." Dreamer said, pushing the hags face away, "But like, a kind one, and honest. One given in bad faith can mean bad luck, so-- so ..."
Scarlet stared back at Valeria, awaiting for her to continue that thought. If she held any thoughts they were not spoken, and remained behind her thick raven curtain of hair that covered most of her features.
Hesitation covered Valeira's shoulders like a cowl, that which weighed heavier the longer she held. It would be a simple one. She'd found rest and comfort at Scarlet's side time and time again, so why did this feel so...
With a careful step forward, Valeria's hand raised to pull back the curtain at Scarlet's cheek, curling it back behind her ear. "So-- here's to luck and love and all that shit.."
Yet as she Dreamer leaned in, turning Mourn's face slightly to the side-- Suddenly, from the falling snow, Mogwan had came in like a torpedo and placed his Moogly lips upon Mourn's cheek.
"You snooze, you lose! Kupo!" And with a twirling dance and hop in the air, he vanished and the berry upon the mistletoe had shattered into thousands of sparkling crystals.
Valeria stood there dumbfounded, heart racing beyond belief-- hands falling down to her side before collapsing to her knees. The cold of the ground bit her legs with regret.
With raises hands, she called to the skies. "Fuck You, Mogwan!!!!"
Mourn seemed entirely unaware of what had just occured, peering up toward the shimmering sparkles around them before spotting the mistletoe again with some curiosity.
"One of the berries is missing." She said, tilting her head slightly. "Another remains. The ward persists."
Dreamer winced, looking back up to Mortimer and Lucine, their sinister gazes upon her. The torture had not ended yet. Starlight had just begun.
(Author's note, Adler is a character owned by my friend @odsteria! Go check her out!)
Her hair seems better brushed today.
Lucine stares at Adler as the clock ticks idly by. Her head cradled in the cusp of her palm. She watches the marionette nibble on the corner of a biscuit with some interest– wondering how she ate. Meanwhile Adler sits in her living room, tracing the walls with eyes full of small wonder. The walls were crowded- trinkets, shelves, star maps– drying herbs whose leaves frayed and crumbled at their edges. And of course– books. Books piled higher than Lucine could even stand, her shelves upstairs packed to their limit. A charitable stack is left beside Xaela's divan couch, tonight's material no doubt.
It was something of a teaparty– though it was really only Lucine drinking the tea. She'd left a pot of honey in the center of the table, though clearly less for her own sake. She had the vague sense her guest would be fond of it, and that sense had been right.
Adler wands over another dallop of honey onto her plate. Though, perhaps realizing she's being watched, she smiles sheepishly at her host, “How curious the things thou keepest.. Tis truly magick that abides in thine abode.”
Lucine smiles, “You flatter me,” she brings the teacup to her lips, glancing at whatever has caught Adler's attention. Oddly enough the morpho pinned on her wall, “it's my love, after all.” She murmurs the word rolling off with irreverence, as though she knows its meaning.
“Would you like another biscuit?” Lucine offers her own, really she only put it there to keep the spread balanced, but the initial show has done its part. Adler glances quizzically at her.
“Hm… Art thou already sated?”
“No,” Lucine shrugs, “I don't make a habit of eating when I can taste my own aether in the food.” She scoots the biscuit a little closer, “you'll find it more palatable, I assure you.”
“Ah… I know thee has quite the tongued sensitivity to aether.” Adler takes the biscuit with some hesitance, the exchange quiet but for a small scrape of the plate, “What is the taste to thee?”
Lucine hums, “...Pen ink.” She responds simply, “Strange I know, but you'd understand my distaste if you dot some on the tongue.”
“Curious…” Adler has no intention of doing any such thing.
Lucine takes up the teacup once more. She sips and savors slowly. She almost sees the next question come to form in her head.
“But the tea… It doesn't taste as such?”
Lucine nods, “The pot brews itself, or rather- a familiar of mine does. Though you'd be hard pressed to see her.” There's a curl to her lips, something of mild mischief.
Adler tilts her head, as far as she was aware- Lucine had poured the tea. Still, she wouldn’t ask too many questions. Lucine seemed to revel in placing small mysteries on the board with tacks. Adler didn’t have the mind to thread a scarlet string between them just yet.
Moments more pass by in comfortable silence. Her own aether… Adler wonders if this little treat was baked by Lucine herself. Was there some sorcery to perform such a thing? Lucine didn’t seem like much of a cook, after all. She still seemed to balk at anything that threatened to callous her soft palms…. Not that such was a rare vice for a mage.
“I did call you here for some purpose.” Lucine’s voice cuts through Adler’s consideration of the biscuit, “I wanted to offer something.”
Offer. From her lips it could be anything. For the briefest moment Adler’s mind recalls a not so distant memory, slow warmth coming to her face, “Ah– of course.”
“I am loath to leave an acquaintance, much less a friend of mine, without access to my well of resources.” Lucine gestures around, but all Adler really sees is books and the occasional not so legal relic or herb, “I would like to teach you to read, and write for that matter.”
She blinks. It really could be anything, Adler’s gaze shifts away momentarily, “A companion from Sharlayan meant to assist me, alas she hath been preoccupied with–”
Lucine cuts her off, “Truly, do not mention to me what some other bailed woman has offered you– I am not interested.” She waves her hand as if attempting to shoo the thought from Adler’s mind itself. Dismissive.
“Take this opportunity or don’t. But these tomes are not primed for bedtime storytelling, if you need full access to my knowledge– which I remind that you pay for. You need to take time to study. My lessons are free, and the aether in these walls plentiful. You will last a few hours stowed away here I assure you.”
Lucine’s voice is firm. She’s really not suggesting it by the tone of her voice, there’s a command hidden somewhere in there.
Adler hesitates, lips thinned for the briefest moment. Lucine’s brow furrows.
The witch’s next words mimic, “Might thee return again in time.” She lifts her voice to match Adler’s, slightly more girlish than hers, “You supplicated me, not the other way around. Now are you going to follow through with your inclinations or waste my time playing tug of war with yourself?”
“I…” Adler's gaze shifts aside, “I… I apologize if I’ve caused thee offense.”
Lucine’s gaze softens, but her body is still tense. She leans forward, brushes her fingers along Adler’s cheek. The difference in her tone– it feels jarring, that look on her face not much unlike the moments leading to a pinch of her brow, “Look, you don’t have to answer now..” Lucine sighs, “But I would like an answer soon. Okay?”
Adler nods, swallowing.
Lucine’s hand retreats, “Good.” she settles back down. Though, she doesn’t seem pleased regardless. When Lucine brings the teacup back to her blackened lips, It’s empty.
⚠️Warnings for potential spoilers regarding Lucine. (Applicable to RP friends only)
For her our world was an abyss of panic and motion. Ever veering towards darkest uncertainty. She spent her days mulling over her gift, over the future as it outstretched into a hazy gray. It stunned her, I noticed. Those premonitions that struck us long before we could truly control our power.
“It’s out of our control.” I think I remember saying it… Or maybe I had just thought it. I remember the dawning horror that passed our mind, how that dread festered and fed over years. Through laughter and tears, through the unexpected, through the familiar. She feared what she saw just as much as what she couldn’t. It bled into me, obviously… I grew quiet, I stifled my own wanderlust to comfort her. Cowered from confronting her or… Our fear?
How close can thoughts mingle until they’re one? If I’m me then what was she? It’s not like we could differentiate who was thinking what back then. What is my body? Was I just lucky to be the one holding the artifact at the time? Or did I seal her to save myself? I remember being terrified, I remember holding the knife, I remember running, I remember chasing, I remember sobbing, I remember screaming, I remember dying on the floor– I remember when the connection was severed. The clarity was a silence like relief.
I can whisper or scream out my despair– but what good is it to cry? I spent all these years scorning her, hating her, rending the mark of her thoughts from my own, keeping that crystal silent. All in the vague hope it would pass. I still feel her flickering in my mind, an unextinguished ember– a vengeful ghost. I see her staring back at me in the mirror- how could I not? I have her face. Makeup can only cover so much, the glacial darkness in the center of my eye an eclipsed proof of her former existence. So many casted their gaze away, couldn’t bear to see this living spectre. What else was there to do at that point than leave? Who in Eorzea would know her?
All of this, all of this after the fact. The tide has washed over, the damage is already done so…
So why…? Why didn't I try to understand her better?
He crowds her against the wall. The stink of spirits clear on his breath. His aether swirls with some rotten taste acquired from years of drowning in his own vices. Lucine looks up at the hyur- gaudy silks, yellowed teeth, and the grin of a man too sure of his coin.
She knows his face. She's ignored it before.
“Not particularly,” she murmurs, tone flat, though her eyes glimmer with something colder than the alley's dark. Like she knows her answer isn't the end. She shrugs and turns to go but is stopped. His hand finding its way around her arm.
“Now there, little bird. You shouldn't be wandering alone at night.” He slurs, leaning close, “come with me now, or you'll be finding yourself in the wrong bed come morning.”
Her brow lifts faintly in some dull amusement, “And if I disagree?”
“Then I'll take somethin’ of my own accord… I saw what you did to that merchant the other night, after all.”
Ah. So that's the angle.
Oh, how her smile flowers like cereus blossom. Soft and deliberate she raises two fingers to her lips, “Then perhaps…” she purrs, “this will suffice.”
She presses, slow and tender. Leaving a perfect imprint of her lips. A dark emblem of temptation. How hypnotic is her motion, like a flute enticing a serpent, coaxing it closer and closer…
“An indirect kiss,” she offers, lashes low. Her eyes are steady, untouched by the wickedness in her smile. One lying for the other.
His breath is hot with greed, and when he laughs the air sloshes with his last drink. He grips her forearm, doesn't notice the darkness in her gaze. Nor how the air hums around her.
Her fingers are bait. He takes her mouth instead.
She doesn't move, doesn't even blink. Her lips are still, and her teeth refuse to yield. He licks against her mouth hungry for the sensation of kissing her. Taking like there's something owed.
Her eyes watch him all the while. Patient, half lidded. Gathering. Feeding.
He pulls back, a foul taste left behind. He pants into what little space lays between them. A hand sliding beneath her dress, fingers fumbling at skin and silk.
She doesn't have to endure long, his body readily betrays him.
The seizure comes silent. Bones locking, grinding. His jaw snaps shut as his spine peels back. He's forced to let go- though not of his own accord. The whites of his eyes bulge like rotten fruits. Muscles knot and veins cord. He falls to the floor, caught by unforgiving stones. His breath rattles once… But the pallor of death doesn't come.
Lucine tilts her head with a smile nearly tender.
“What a shame,” she whispers. Watching him continue to twitch. The sight reminds her of a swatted fly. Dull amusement passing her glassy eyes, “I didn't intend to test that so soon.”
Her lips curve, slow and delighted as she studies him. A shimmer of cruel satisfaction in her gaze.
“Still,” she muses, brushing her thumb across her mouth gathering the dark magicks that lingered, “how gracious of you to volunteer.”
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