(The Twin Lakes) New Meetings (finished)

[Drusilla]

Drusilla joined in with Miana’s laughter. Glancing at Krys, she was pretty sure she knew what she was thinking. “ So I think we should start with three simaliar dresses, all white of coarse…” Drusilla stopped, “But.. what if the silk was tinted just a bit. Each of the three dresses tinted a different color, to complement each of our features. Krys you could make some beads and embellishments to match. Let’s see, Krys… your color would be gold. Miana your color would be a soft slate blue. My tint would be purple… Or we could just use the colored beads on the white silk.” Drusilla looked around to the other girls, “Any thoughts?” A thought crossed Drusilla’s mind, she was an Avora and Krys a chiet… “If Miana comes with us to the party… We can use our classes to make sure nobody does anything. Think about it, who would want to mess with an angry Symenestra?” She chuckled,”Or your sharp tongue?” Drusilla laughed some more, “I only kid, Krys!” After becoming satisfied with Miana’s hair Drusilla began to twist and style Miana’s hair trying to figure out what should be done with it. She settled on a simple bun for the moment, leaving a few bottom layers down. “As to what you were saying earlier Krys, I was born to a wealthy family- ok a wealthy father. I suppose you know that Symenestra mothers die during birth. My whole life was laid out as soon as I was born. Life was good… Until my dad had to remarry. She was horrible, I was treated much like the deks are here. To keep my stepmother from suffering from the same fate as my mother, she used surrogates or otherwise know as woman who are take captive by Symenestra only to have babies and die in the process. The first one was a kelvic, but the second one… was an Endal. I ended becoming very close with her. I wanted her to leave, but she refused. She’s the reason I came here, I wanted to see the place she told me about. It’s my personal job to make sure there are no other Symenestra here, no collectors.” Drusilla sighed she hadn’t been this open in a long time, her past outside this volcano city was painful. She chuckled, “Ah, back to dresses and such. If you don’t mind…”

[Krysanthe]

Krys had learned long ago how to snatch whispers from the wind’s gentle sighs. Miana. What a pleasant name. She only chuckled dryly as the others seemed to find something absolutely hilarious. The golden eyed lass was nothing less than utterly confused. Had she missed something? What was so funny? Her first instinct was self conscious. Did she have something in her teeth? No, that wasn’t it. It must be something else. Some subconscious wave that she was all too oblivious too. Oh well, it wasn’t the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. She shrugged it off, for she soon realized that Drusilla was talking again. ‘Any thoughts?’ Oh shoot. What was she saying? Searching her own subconscious, Krys tried to remember anything she picked up. Something about dresses. And making beads. She only nodded. Yes yes, whatever Drusilla thought was best. She was certain she would be satisfied. Dully, she wondered what the masks would look like. Trying to stay connected in the conversation, Krys looked at Drusilla, realizing she had sort of been staring off into space. ‘Who would want to mess with an angry Symenstra? Or your sharp tongue? I only kid, Krys!’ At that, Krys couldn’t help but chuckle. Yes yes, she could easily talk the ear off of anyone. She was warned at an early age that with a tongue as sharp as hers, she better be careful not to cut her throat. She did not take much heed to these warnings. She embraced her loud thoughts, more and more as time goes on, she supposed. Becoming transfixed on the spider’s hands as they weaved through the dek’s hair, any ghost of their previous conversation was blown away with the sighs of the wind, replaced with other subtle whispers. She hardly remembered what it was that they were talking about. But then Drusilla spoke, trying to be innocent, meaning well, but all she managed to do was tear open old wounds. It bothered her somewhat that Drusilla spoke to her as if she knew nothing. Symenstra society was not entirely unknown to her. Surrogates and all that. But that was hardly a second thought, considering Krys was well aware that ru would have had no way to know of Krys’s knowledge. What really bothered her was that last sentence. Second to last sentence, actually. ‘It’s my personal job to make sure there are no other Symenestra here, no collectors.’ She really wanted to tell her off. Her mind was fuming at that sentence. ‘Don’t quit your day job, since you are not doing so well at your personal one.’ ‘You must be blind, because one was here not long ago, come and gone without a word from you.’ ‘Define collector. Define suffering. Define death. Because I know more than you think I do.’ But no, her mouth remained zipped. Suddenly, all that she could think of was him. All she could see was him. She looked out over the lake and all she saw was him as he fell into the water, angry, thrashing about with frustrated screams, standing, stepping out of the water, then laughing. And they laughed together. And all was good. But that was over. That was gone. It was no more. And suddenly, in the stillness of the day, in the comfort of the moment, the gentle sighs of the wind suddenly turned into the thunderous roars of a tumbling waterfall pouring endlessly, the root of thousands of nightmares. Krys stood. It was just too loud. She couldn’t stand it. She had to get out of there. She had to escape. All thoughts of dresses were gone. All thoughts of parties and friendliness and being social and moving on were gone. Her focus was shifted back to what she so desperately tried to release, and all at once she found it hard to breathe. She felt like the mountains were closing in on them, suffocating them, making her feel claustrophobic and exposed. “I… sorry, I just… I need to… I’m sorry.” And that is all it took. She put her hand to her face to attempt to cover the rosy cheeks, gasping mouth and glassy eyes, making a brisk walk to the nearest escape, wanting nothing more than to return to the serenity of the four walls of her fortress of solitude in the Darniva Commonrooms. They wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t understand. When would the pain subside? Was a full year, almost two, not enough? No, it would never be enough. Time does not heal all wounds.

[Drusilla]

Drusilla sighed, how lovely she had done it again. She lowered her head, silent. This was why she never spoke to people. She wanted to cry and leave. No. She looked at Krys, "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened to you. I'm sure it was painful. I can tell you're angry and upset. Look, I'll leave and you won't ever have to deal with me again. I was just trying to be open. Don't you think I'd like to say 'Oh yeah, I grew up in the nursery too! Fancy we never met.' But I can't I have to say that I was born and killed my mom in the process... Miana, if you're afraid of me I understand."

The Symenestra lowered her head even more. She was sure that there was a rule against a Symenesta crying, but when had she cared before.

[Miana]

For her part, Miana listened intently at the Symenestra, digesting in the new information with morbid fascination. The nuggets of information of another culture was utterly exotic to her crinkled ears, a wonderful knowledge. She didn't really care for the talk of parties though.

Although enraptured by the story, her attention to the fiery Inarta never wavered, occasionally stealing glances at the woman. The moment that her face broke at the end of Drusilla's tale, Miana knew that whatever the three of them had was long gone.

The joking and easy tone of their conversation ended in a sharp and unpleasant halt. Like a bucket of water thrown into the trio, the realities of their lives caught up with them. A dark sky creeping along the vast blue of the afternoon.

When Krysanthe stuttered her goodbye's, Miana had long since slipped back into her usual mask of vagueness and disentangled herself from the pale woman's grasp. While Drusilla tried to explain herself, Miana felt her stomach drop.

"...Miana, if you're afraid of me I understand."
Looking at her melancholy eyes, Miana didn't bother trying to hide her pity for the woman. Miana could only pat the Symmenestra's silken head, each stroke seeming to zap the energy that slowly built up in her. With a touch of sadness, she watched the redhaired Inarta vanish from the Lake, knowing that whatever they had, like the dresses and parties they so desperately wanted to talk about, was trivial and frivolous in the real world.

'What a fool,' she thought to herself, as she remembered the hope that bubbled in her. Touching her ear, she once again reminded herself of the present.

[Drusilla]

And with that it seemed the lazy day had vanished, reality's ugly head showing once again. All she could do is sigh and watch yet another person run away from her. A sudden pat on her head surprised her. Miana hadn't ran, in fact it seemed as Miana understood. "Had I not been lucky, I would of been a dek too... I feel like one though. If you want the offer still stands, my room as a safe haven." With that Drusilla began her lonely walk home with as many friends as she had started out with. Life... Pffftt!

[Phoenix]

Drusilla

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Rhetoric	5
Socialization	3
Observation	3

Lores

• Lore
• Awed by the Inartan's Fire and Beauty
• Coming to the rescue of a Dek

Krysanthe

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Rhetoric	5
Observation	2
Socialization	3
Glassblowing	1

Lores

• Tricked by a Symenestra
• Dreams of the Revelry
• Scolding a Dek and then apologizing

Miana

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Medicine	2
Observation	2
Socialization	3

Lores

• Escaping the life of a Dek by the lake
• Unable to shake a Caterpillar
• Bandaging a Symenestra

The Order of the Phoenix

Great Job, girls! I gave Krys an XP in glassblowing because she described it a bit to Drusilla.

Remember, if any of you actually make these gifts for each other, to deduct it from your ledger in your CS