Zeltiva Puppet Theatre Part III (Satevis)

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

"Mmph," Tock groaned in protest, sitting up reluctantly. "Aye," she said with a shrug, stretching a bit and shifting her shoulders to roll out the kinks. Rubbing her neck she said, "Next time, we's sleepin' in my bed." She leaned on him to get help back to her feet, holding her one leg with the knee bent. She couldn't wait to be out of this damn cast. She leaned heavily against Satevis for a long moment while she got her balance, groaning at the empty ache in her stomach. There was nothing to be done about it though, so she hobbled over to the chair and sat down. The new puppet was still on the floor, so she raised her hand over it to command it to rise and walk. Once it reached her she scooped it up and laid it on the table with the others. She pulled over her paints and asked Satevis, "Ya wanna 'elp paint our babies?" She lifted one of the puppets she had Animated, and opened the book Satevis had found detailing what the Gods looked like. She flipped through to a page with a nice drawing of Syna and Leth, and started carefully painting the indicated features. She couldn't hope to make as artful of a piece as the one shown in the book, but she would do the best she could. As soon as they finished the painting, the week long effort would be complete. Then, tomorrow, they'd finally be able to get the show underway.

[Satevis]

He nodded as she asked him if he wanted to paint, stretching once to loosen stiff muscles and walking to the table. There was no helping it. If it was as late in the morning as he thought it was, then he would have to leave right now to make it to his class on time, and that if he ran. He would just skip this lesson and make up for it some other time. It wasn't as if he made a habit of missing class. Besides, at the moment, he did want to help paint the puppets. Satevis looked over her shoulder, his eyes passing over the page she had turned it to. The entire page was taken up by an illustration of Syna and Leth, the sun goddess resting in the moon god's embrace--Leth, darkly beautiful, and Syna, vibrant and radiant as always. He smiled. Even among those who were not Ethaefal, his lord's quicksilver moods were known, but no one could question his devotion to Syna. Just as the moon shone because of the light of the sun, he had always seemed to...soften in her light. He knew that had he been in his Ethaefal form, the thoughts would have been accompanied by memories, and they would have caused him pain, but in his Benshira form, his memories of the Ukalas were sealed. These were just facts that he remembered, his imagination filling in the gaps. But he remembered looking at them and thinking to himself that for a moment he had found a definition for love. He pulled up a chair next to Tock and reached for a paint brush, beginning to paint. "I'll leave the finer details to you," he said, painting the base colors onto the Leth puppet. He didn't trust himself with small details, especially considering yesterday was the first time he had picked up a paintbrush. He started with white paint, painting the parts of the puppet where the skin would be exposed, such as the hands and the face. As he painted, Satevis occasionally glanced at the illustration for reference. He had an image of Syna and Leth in his mind, something artificially memorized from his Ethaefal form. The illustration was good, but it was pen and paint on paper. It paled in comparison to what he remembered. He shook his head. "Sometimes..." he admitted. "I can't believe I was really up there." On some days, it felt like a dream. On others, the separation was all too real.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

Minerva scooted her chair just close enough that her leg could brush against Satevis, hiding a little smirk, hoping to distract him just a little. She hummed softly as she painted, keeping her eyes on her work, but every now and then she teased him with a little rub of her thigh against his, or a tickling of her toes against his foot. Though she acted completely innocent the whole time, humming away, never looking up from her painting. She'd never teased a man before, seeing as she had never wanted a man's attention. The men she'd known back home had all been pigs, crude and smelly. She had done everything she could her whole life to stay away from them and preserve her innocence. But now that this certain man had captured her attention, she was enjoying learning what sort of effect she could have on him. It was an experiment, and one which she was enjoying thoroughly. From the reactions she'd been getting so far, she had the feeling he was enjoying it too. She let her smirk show when he mentioned leaving the details to her. "I ain't 'xactly an artist, love," she said, gently brushing the colors into place. "Usually done been paintin' 'ouses, not faces..." Sure, she had an artistic side, but it was limited. Still, she did the best she could to mimic the features portrayed in the book. She grit her teeth against the continued rumbling in her stomach, forcing herself to ignore it. Hoping to distract herself and quite curious about Satevis's past, she looked up at him when he mentioned 'up there'. "What's she like?" she asked, nodding towards the ceiling. "Up 'ere? I ain't done never been, ha, not what as 'at's a surprise, aye love? But whazzer like... ya live in the clouds, o' somethin?" She wasn't familiar enough with the religious lore to know what the 'heavens' were supposed to really be like, besides the generic childish fantasies all children were raised on.

[Satevis]

Satevis's fingers tightened briefly around the paint brush as he felt her leg brush against his, but he kept his eyes firmly on the puppet, a look of concentration on his face. At the second teasing touch, he shifted his leg slightly away from hers, drawing the brush carefully across the puppet in front of him and focusing on the details of the illustration. When he felt her toes lightly move across his foot, he looked up at her, a look in his eye that said plainly 'I'm on to you.' He knew what she was trying to do, but it wasn't going to work. If there was anything Satevis prided himself on, it was the firm control he kept over his emotions and his thoughts. His will was iron; it wouldn't be swayed by the whims of this human girl. If he could command the elements, he could-- Who are you kidding? It's only been, what, eighteen days, and you can't deny her anything. ...And once again, the stupid voice in the back of his mind was completely right. Satevis sighed inwardly. What a fine mess he was getting into. He frowned as he thought about how to answer her questions. How could he describe the Ukalas in words? In his mortal seeming, he remembered only a fraction of it, but, like his name, that fraction seemed well beyond the limits of what Common or Shiber could express. Still, he could try. "It was...well, beautiful. As beautiful as the stories about it say. And they..." He gestured at the image in the book in front of them. "...they were something else entirely. You could feel that they were different, could feel power coming off them." "Strangely, it wasn't as peaceful as the stories say it should be, but I suppose that's what happens when your patron deity is the God of Change, with moods to match." He chuckled a little bit at that. Even though his memories were incomplete, a handful of images and half-remembered facts, he remembered that much. It seemed sometimes as though he had gotten used to a small amount of chaos in his life after living in Leth's company. A comfortable existence now seemed dull and boring after a time. "I remember the stars," he added. "Bigger, brighter, and closer than you can see them here." He frowned, carefully painting the puppet's head black to simulate Leth's dark hair. "...If you want more, you should ask me at night," he said. "During the day, my memories of it are a little...vague. 'Things mortal men can never know', or whatever the old stories say."

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

Tock fought back the amused smirk that threatened to overcome her lips at his reactions, keeping her face as calm as she could. The more he squirmed, the more the corners of her mouth turned up. This was fun. And when he gave her that look, the grin finally broke free, and her eyes sparkled with delighted amusement. 'E's gonna make 'is a challenge, she thought. Goodie. She listened to his story intently, trying to picture it in her mind, the stars so big you could climb them, the Gods radiating power like... She shuddered and closed her eyes as an image flashed in her mind of her Da towering over her, exerting his power over her with his fists and his fury. She pushed the image away, fighting back tears that suddenly welled up in her eyes. She pretended to brush back a strand of hair so she could wipe the tears from her eyes, hoping he didn't notice. "I's ask ya again after yer Daddy wakes up, 'en," she said, intending to see how different his memories were once the moon climbed from his bed. She found this absolutely fascinating... This man that glowed at night, changed colors when the summer came, and had different memories when the sun was up. He intrigued her like nothing ever had before in her life. She'd never known anyone like him. She didn't plan on letting him get away until she'd figured him out. Which also meant making sure he was interested in sticking around. She didn't know the first thing about capturing a man's interest, but she did know what parts of her tended to draw attention even when she didn't want it. So she decided to make use of that, stretching and yawning, rubbing at her neck to brush away the light sweat from the morning heat. Then as if she were doing it only because of the heat, she exhaled and let out a soft moan, undoing the top two buttons of her shirt. Not enough to be indecent, but just enough to invite a man's glance, especially when she leaned forward again to continue her work on the puppets. All the while she acted completely innocent as if she weren't doing anything at all. "So whatcha remember good when its daytime?" she asked while she painted the puppet in the Goddess's image. This one was brighter in contrast to the one Satevis was painting, and Tock felt like the puppet should look cheerful. So she used the brighter colors, helpless and reds, carefully painting the wood to give the puppet some personality. "Is ya ferget yer daytime memories at night, an' yer nighttime memories when it's day?" There was so much still she hadn't learned about him, but once Tock committed herself to a project, nothing would stop her until she unlocked every secret.

[Satevis]

OOCWow, Satevis's mood shifts a lot in this post. I'm starting to really see the whole 'son of Leth' bit start to come out. XD Something seemed to come over Tock as he spoke. He didn't see the tears that had gathered in her eyes, but he did see her close her eyes in the middle of his story and shrink somewhat, her expression changing as if she was remembering something unpleasant. It was an expression he had never seen on Tock's face before, and he found that he didn't like it. For a moment, something cold coiled in the pit of his stomach, and he felt both the strange, sudden desire to protect her and the desire to harm whatever was causing her pain. Since Reimancy couldn't burn thoughts or memories, that was impossible, so he put the thought out of his mind as she did, dipping the paint brush in paint again and beginning to paint the basic colors of the puppet's clothing. He didn't ask, and if she wanted to pretend that it didn't happen, then he would pretend that he didn't see. Everyone was welcome to their own secrets. Certainly, he had a few. There were events that had happened in Lhavit that he would rather keep to himself. Tock, for the most part, seemed intent on breaking his control. He looked up at her as she moved and stretched, and his eyes lingered a little overlong on the skin that she exposed. Their color, already a crystalline blue that made them look like they were frosted over with ice, seemed to intensify just a little bit--not a real color change, not like the Vantha's eyes, but just a reflection of his interest and the darker turn his thoughts were moving in. He moved his eyes up to hers, holding her gaze for a moment before he turned back to the puppets, doing his best to ignore it. I know what you're doing, his eyes seemed to say. And it's not going to work. It was a little difficult to claim that now, though, because her actions were having some sort of effect on him. He kept a firm hold on his control, though, setting the Leth puppet down to dry before more details could be added. When he answered her question, there was no trace of his earlier change of expression, his emotions now firmly under control. Of course...his thoughts might have slightly strayed away from what would have been considered acceptable thoughts of a pious Benshira. But, devotion to Yahal aside, he wasn't a Benshira anymore. He recited small portions of the Penita Scroll to himself in his mind, though, using it as a distraction. "...Oddly enough?" he asked as she asked him what he remembered better in the daytime. "I remember Taras better. The life I led in this form. I don't remember it fully...I don't think any Ethaefal does, but I have better memories than most. At night, I don't lose any memories, but Taras becomes a little lost in all of the other memories I gain." He frowned in thought, thinking back to the way it felt at night, when the memories returned to him. During the day, he could pretend he was Benshira. At night, he knew that he was part of a much bigger picture than just that. "At night...I start to remember flashes of lives before Taras. Not a lot, mind you, not even anything substantial. I know at some point before Taras I was a powerful Reimancer. Another was a warrior mage. I know that almost all of the past lives I have memory of were wizards of some sort." He shrugged. "I remember the Ukalas too, the time I spent there. I suppose the best way to explain it is during the day I feel almost human. At night...I feel like something more."

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

Tock didn't entirely know what she was trying to do. But she knew it was working. She was just stuck in the moment, enjoying the reactions she was getting from him. She had never enjoyed the way men looked at her before today. She always wore clothes that covered herself well, and never tried to show off her more feminine features. She kept her hair short to keep it out of the way of her work, and wore trousers instead of skirts because skirts were completely impractical in a workshop. When men gazed lustfully at her (which they did often because, let's be frank, she was a cute redhead with a slender figure), she either ignored them or told them off. She never wanted that kind of attention. Except now that a certain someone had caught her interest, she found she was rather enjoying the attention. Her face felt warm when she caught his eyes lingering on her flesh, and that look, that shift in his eyes made her heart hammer. The sensation was even stronger with the knowledge that she'd caused that to happen. It made her feel powerful. Liberated. And a little tingly. She kept humming softly as she painted, setting the first puppet aside so the first coating could dry, and picking up the other to start adding his first layer of details. Her thoughts wandered as she listened to everything Satevis was saying, and his answers only brought up more questions. "When night falls tonight," she asked, "does ya ferget about what 'appened in the day? Like, ya ain't gonna ferget sittin' 'ere paintin' our babies wit' me, is ya?" She hoped not. He certainly hadn't given any signs yet that he had forgotten any of their time together these last three weeks. As her brush gently slid across the puppet's arms and torso, she pondered these 'past lives' he mentioned. It was nothing like anything she could imagine. She only had one life, unless you counted the metaphorical 'past life' she'd led in Sunberth. "'Ow many lives done ya 'ad?" she asked. "An' does ya go back up 'ome," she gestured towards the ceiling, "in between each one? O' 'ow's 'at work?"

[Satevis]

Satevis watched as Tock began adding details to the Leth puppet. He wanted to start work on the other puppet, the one that would become Tanroa, but the reference picture he needed was on a different page of the same book, and he didn't want to interrupt, so he decided to wait until she was done, studying the Syna puppet in the meantime and trying to decide whether or not he could add any details in. While he waited, he thought of how to answer her questions. He gave her a reassuring smile when she asked if he had forgotten her, shaking his head. "My current memories don't change," he said. "I have complete memories of everything after my fall...or, rather, I don't forget any more than a normal human would. And...if you'll allow me to say so, you are rather hard to forget." He meant it when he said he had never met anyone like Tock, after all. He frowned, staring down at his hand. "But this form is just a little under five years old. Five years of memories isn't a lot. Still..." He shrugged. "I suppose it means I can remember more of them." "I don't know how many past lives I've had," he said. "More than three, at least..." There were still so many things he didn't know about reincarnation, despite having spent some time on "the other side". "...It's...difficult to explain. No, I didn't go up there after each one. In all of my other past lives, I died and was sent back into the cycle of reincarnation." He looked up at her. "It's highly likely that the same thing happened to you at least once or twice in the past...I still don't know how it works, or whether or not any souls can be considered 'new'. Regardless, when you reincarnate, you forget all the details of your past life. And you continue on in that cycle until you're claimed by a god. Then, presumably, you live with your patron deity forever. That's supposed to be the end of it." Supposed to be. But clearly not always the case. He couldn't help the bitter note that crept into his voice as he said the last sentence. The Ethaefal were a painful reminder that even gods could make mistakes, that even divine realms were not immune to destruction and pain. "The Ethaefal are a special case..." he said quietly, his eyes darkening as he looked down at the table.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

A smile spread across Tock's lips when he told her she was hard to forget, and she giggled happily. Yes, whatever she was doing was working, indeed. Her paintbrush paused as he mentioned that he was only five years old. She thought about that for a moment. Sure, not everyone had to be counted by human aging standards, but it was a little bit weird. But then when he said he had at least three lives, she realized he could easily be centuries old if you counted all of them. So, her boyfriend was either five, or three hundred. She shrugged, and went back to her painting. "I ain't remember any other lives," Tock said. "I think 'is is my only one. Cause like, I'd 'ave ta remember a little if I'd done been reincarnated..." She shrugged, continuing to trace gentle strokes with her paintbrush. Sure, she'd never met anyone before Satevis who claimed to have knowledge of a previous life, but she had met people who spoke about things like 'common sense', 'common knowledge', and 'gut instincts'. All of which were things she never seemed to have. She was smart, but she knew she didn't get people (nor did she care to). So maybe that was because everyone else had subtle, beneath the surface memories of previous lives, which gave them instincts and subtle knowledge that came across as simple common sense. So the reason she lacked that was because this was her first life. It made sense to her. "Yer definitely the most special man I ever done known," she said. It was a simple truth. Satevis fascinated her, and she wanted to take him apart and figure out what made him tick. But since she doubted she'd be able to put him back together again, she'd settle for talking and investigating until she knew everything there was to know about him. Plus, he was a good kisser.

[Satevis]

"It honestly wouldn't surprise me if you were completely unique. A new soul," he said. The words slipped out before he had a chance to think about what he was saying, but he didn't take them back. Tock was...well, she was definitely in a league of her own. The Benshira were a very controlled people. Don't do this, don't do that, act like this, believe that...almost every aspect of their lives was governed by some sort of rule. Those that broke the rules tended to do so secretively or fearfully, aware that getting caught would bring disapproval down on them. Others tailored their whole lives around Benshira rules and customs, never publicly deviating from them. This made them stiff and formal, or at the very least extremely reserved. As polite and well-spoken as Satevis was, anyone who knew anything about the Benshira could tell that he was a little bit of a deviant. He gave attention to other deities besides Yahal, was involved in what was fast becoming (if it wasn't already) a full-fledged relationship with someone who would have been considered rakva, or an outsider, had left Eyktol and his father's tents even before he was Ethaefal, and practiced magic. The last was especially frowned upon by the Benshira people. In the beginning, when he decided that he still followed Yahal as Taras had, these things had made him feel extremely guilty, as if he were betraying his god. It was in Syliras where he finally made peace with that part of himself. Because the Syliran Knights served three gods, were themselves outsiders who married outsiders, maintained a presence in many areas of Mizahar, and occasionally practiced magic. And they worshiped Yahal. It was probably at that point that he realized that trust, sacrifice, and prayer, the tenets of the Benshira faith, could be followed without specifically adhering to Benshira rules. If Taras had realized that in his lifetime, he probably would have been much happier. But that was neither here nor there. The point was that all of the women he remembered from his past life were Benshira. Their personalities varied greatly, but at their core, they were bound to a set of rules they didn't dare disobey. Tock was different. She was a breath of fresh air, because she was simply herself. She didn't seem to care what anyone thought about her. There was no fear in her when she did something others might disapprove of, and the boundaries she had were ones that she had set herself. In many ways, it could be considered a negative quality, but it was also rather intriguing. And although on the outside there couldn't be two people more different, the more he spoke to her, the more he realized that they might have more in common than he previously thought. Like magic, she was an anomaly that seemed to go against the way the world worked. And like magic, she fascinated him, in a way that merited further study. "I'll take that as a compliment," he joked, picking up the Syna puppet and deciding that he could help her by adding in some of the simpler details.