[Semele's Cavern] Peace and Qui- Nevermind (Zeran)

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts' | ooc*Rubs temples and glares at last post* I don't remember writing half of that. Perhaps I need more sleep and less coffee

The weight of the air bearing down on Arysana's chest, and when Zeran decided that he'd push her boundaries, her breath froze. Honest, stupid, or both. In her own opinion, she was both to a certain degree. If it wasn't for the constriction she felt in her chest at the time, or her unwillingness to piss of a fellow wizard, she'd have laughed and corrected him in her use of the word 'sweet.' 'What does he take me for - a Myrian or something of the like?'

She gave him a hard look, then, his words of 'passing judgement' and the like striking a strange cord within her. She calmed herself and kept her breath steady, trying not to have the look thrown at him appear too incredulous. Of course, that idea left her with all others when he questioned how many wizards she'd met to come by her opinions. In her own case, it seemed, she knew more people (Excluding her family and those of Wind Reach) who had dabbled in at least one art than she did those who hadn't touched it.

But that's the kind of thing that comes when you're not only a student of a magic tower, but also a resident in said tower's student wing within Tower's Respite and you earn your income as a personal assistant for a wizard. She saw how those with magic lived and learned every day of her life. Everyone of her said so called 'friends' were in some practise or another, each knowing bitterly the danger of a hot headed novice who took the most dangerous form of magic that The Dawn Tower permitted.

Everyone liked to keep their disciplines a secret, if not for the distrust that could be harbored, bit for the fun that could be had when your skills were unknown. Often one would only know that another had furthered their studies in reimancy, especially, if they stepped out of their room to be dowsed in water, or felt a sudden hunk of ice slide down their back, if the wind suddenly pitched and their food suddenly became one with their clothing, or if - in Sana and one of the few fellow earth reimancer's case, wherein the two exacted a revenge of sort - one slipped on a dozen marble like balls suddenly rolled down the hallway.

Such light hearted shenanigans were only done and dealt with in the Respite, with most of her fellow students flicking a kill switch of sorts when they entered the Tower, their minds on track and magic carefully monitored as lessons progressed. It was there that Sana, at least, learned of the grimmer reasons to keep a thing or two up ones sleeve, with gossip and stories of teachers having to deal with those inflicted with sweet whispers and other signs of over-giving, and forceful interventions of lessons apparently running far smoother when the professor had an ace up his sleeve. Except for reimancy, of course. Almost everyone knows reimancy, they can keep secret their elements but not their general practise.

She hadn't realised just how much her mind had drifted when a sound came from Zeran and her gaze fell to the water, before flitting to his face and form. 'Water Reimancy?' Sprung to mind, 'Is it?'. Again her gaze shifted to the pool, watching the way that the water rolled, before casting a short look to his form, trying to gauge his competency by his range and how he held himself. 'So he was keeping secrets,' She blinked thrice. 'No shyke, I determined that already. Everyone keeps their secrets, even those horridly honest have something they'd rather not tell, I'd wager,' A weird feeling took over her form. Was she arguing with herself?

She tried to push herself into concentration, grimacing slightly as she gaze a hard look to the movement of the water. It was strange. She'd seen water reimancy in use many times over, not only in terms of mere practice and jokes but in the fighting of fires within the city. But to make the water lap and cause rolling waves? What kind of res production and transmuting would be required for such a thing?

Several surges, of increasing amounts of res? When did he have the time to accumulate enough for such a display? Why not simply produce a watery ball. Less effort. Less time. Less messy. More... believable. Wait, believe what, exactly? What disciplines did he say he had? Glyphing, auristics - projection. Was that what he was referring to?

Again came the little taunt - honest, stupid, both. He'd shown his magic, she was to show hers. She heard the words ring in her head. "I..." Why in Gods names was that an appealing idea? What kind of idiot placed all their cards face up the table? It wasn't right. Not even Armitican, a crone of a professor with vanity to rival some the most pompous merchant brats didn't let any single person know of more than two or three magics. Her focus was faltering again, mind unwilling to work the way she wanted it to. 'Gods damn it, this is why I was meditating. This is why no one trusts me to keep my cool. This is why Armitican has me read about magic instead of actually see if-'

She frowned, cleared her thoughts and she begrudgingly thanked Armitican for having her read in broad the basics of quite the little host of magic. Was it wise to use reimancy when riled? Gods no. Was it wise to use any form of magic when riled? That'd be stupid. Did she show that petching moron of the Dusk Tower her reimancy when he called her to like a dog? She didn't grant party favours. So why would she do so now? Why the sudden will to do things that weren't within her character? She knew of that magic. "No," was the final word that left her in that regard, and once she did so, her breath came easier.

"But what magics, may I ask," She began, a smile taking form upon her lips - one pressed and twisted as her teeth ground and angered sparked. "Were the ones that you were referring to? In terms of your demonstration, I mean." She tilted her head and gave a short, sweet look, before dropping it entirely. "Surely you did not try to have me to do something out of my character, right, Zeran?" Her visage screamed 'pissed off,' "You wouldn't try and prod someone to do something they'd normally think better of through the use of hypnotism - would you?"

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Arysana Elthorne

*EDIT: fixed messed up code

[Zeran]

"Oh aye?" An eyebrow rose in anticipation of an explanation, though Zeran had his own assumptions. Hypnosis was not an all-powerful discipline. Its nature was to steer those who allowed themselves to be, never to control an individual's every thought and action. Sana's rejection spoke well of her, but suggestion was the lowest form of conditioning and there were many who could claim the same thing. Perhaps I asked too much too soon. Her explanation didn't come. Questions followed one after the other, accompanying the quick change from smile to nothing. Reds twisted and writhed in force within her aura, making no mistake about what she felt with her tone of voice. She knew, or had very strong suspicions of his hidden discipline. Zeran had pushed too hard without steering enough, making it obvious to Sana that her thoughts were not her own. He exhaled heavily at the thought. It was a novice mistake, one that he would learn from for next time. "Can we go back to your 'sweet' expression? I don't like your new one." His arm retracted from the water, parting the surface as it broke through. Keeping it intangible was an option, but Zeran wanted Sana to know of its existence, even if she couldn't see it. Droplets clung to his arm, floating between the two, twinkling like Zintila's stars under the moss's influence. "Projection," he said simply, flicking what clung to his arm at Sana. "Quite a useful discipline, remaining hidden until you want it to be known." She would feel his finger against her nose, as Zeran pressed against it to emphasise his point, choosing to become intangible after the contact. "What did you think I was referring to?" Now he would have to deal with his blunder, and her possible realisation about his Hypnosis. It was preferable that she remained unaware, but it wasn't so important that Zeran would get upset about its discovery. Its discovery might work in my favour. She was determined to not show her own abilities, despite him being quite open with his own. It made Zeran want to see all the more, and her hot-headedness, combined with her mood, might be exactly what he needed to exploit. Even if any demonstration is then trying to knock me on my ass. "Oh I would," he said with a smile. "If I had the mental capacity to get past the initiation, I would." The cane hovered into the air, carried by the invisible arm, as Zeran reached for his shirt. Sana could see the lifelessness that now gripped his left arm, but he felt keeping that secret held no benefits. If anything, it would make her predictable if she wanted to start a fight. "Initiation involved meditating," he whined, sticking his tongue out. "For a week! At least!" Throwing the shirt over his head, his left arm refused to make any attempt to go through its respective hole. "Hmm, I didn't think this through," he said more to himself. Passing his cane to the other hand, his physical arm snaked through his sleeve, aided by its astral form leading it by the wrist. "Make of that what you will, my lady. Yes, I would. No, I can't." Sana was already angry enough that Zeran might have hypnotised her, but he didn't know how sure of herself she was right. Her confidence in her assumption might wane, dispelling her anger along with her hypnosis theory. Conversely, it might serve to fan the flames if she was certain Zeran was lying. His cane drifted over head, a constant reminder that he had magic available, and that it was ready at a moment's notice. He had come to give her enough credit to believe that, although her anger might get the better of her, she would not do anything rash without matching him. "Did you know Tanroa sees time as a river?" His cane reached out over the cavern's pond, tracing circles over the area. Zeran had left the conversation again, as if it held no meaning or importance to him, watching the stick continue to make its laps. "We only exist at one point at any one time." The metal tip immersed itself at the centre of the circles it was drawing, before trailing back gently, creating the slightest ripples in the water. "She's already seen how this little conversation of ours has ended. I wonder how it goes. Too bad she never tells." The reverie broke as the cane's tip left the surface, landing in Zeran's usable hand, effectively hiding the astral limb from sight. "Anyway," he announced, turning back to Sana. "Was there a point to you asking?" He started towards her once more, still not head on, but always to the side as if he were about to pass. "I've been a lot more open about my magic than you. Shouldn't I be suspicious of you? I don't even know if you've learnt Reimancy, let alone any other disciplines." He stopped diagonal from Sana, far enough away to not breach personal space. There was something that he had seen. Something that had appeared for a moment, and then disappeared. The strands of hair that did their best to cover a part of Sana's face moved aside at the touch of astral fingers, revealing a faint, but visible line across Sana's cheek. "That is a nice scar," he smiled.

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts'

Was he joking, or was he serious? A game or another day? Sana's stoic look tended slightly towards an irritated confusion, the woman never much fond of people who played dark games, nor taking part in them herself. She made a silent statement, and kept her hold firm and unchanging about in regards to Zeran's short comment in missing her 'sweet' look.

She narrowed her gaze him, before letting her eyes follow the marvelous array of suspended water dropped, frowning as they drew near, and only just bracing herself that she didn't flinch or yelp when a pressure was applied to her nose. She listened to his words in a half daze, more focused on the touch and pressure that was on her nose, picking it's temperature and texture and feel as she summoned her limited knowledge on the art.

When it came back to banter regarding how hypnotism was far too hard an initiation for Zeran to handle, she gave an eye roll. If she knew no one else, she knew herself. Her mind was quick and often to jump from one thing or another, but she knew how stubborn she was. She wouldn't go back and doubt herself, or feel an inkling of surprise when she was proven correct. She had a certain ring of arrogance in her, in such ways. Innocent until suspected guilty, then guilty until there was some ridiculously solid evidence proving innocence.

His self talk of thinking through, and further jump of subjects didn't help in his arguments, with her annoyance and vexation too great for her to allow herself to give any acknowledge or outward interest in his words. She reveled in the knowledge of the past, though there was a certain digging in her ribs that came from him being the one to speak words of such interest to her, and she soon kept them in the back of her mind to think on further, and let her current ire simmer down only the slightest.

Of course, in the pattern of flaring-simmering-flaring-simmering that had progressed so well thus far, Zeran once more spoke words that rekindled the flames of rage, her arms folding tightly at his accusation, reading to launch into a fierce denial. But then she felt something brush across her cheek, and she'd have thought it the wind had she not felt it before, her face then dropping at his compliment. "Don't you dare give me that look," she said, incredulous of his expression and light, almost carefree air.

Who in Gods' names did he think he was? What right did he think he had to make such a comment. What the petch was so 'nice' about a scar? She pressed her lips and gaped for a moment, far too many thoughts a whirl in her mind for a single to stand out and become a coherent statement. "Don't you just-Why do y-what is wrong with-AURGH" She moved with a start, standing face first infront of Zeran, her expression telling everything her words could not. "Don't. Push. Me." She ground her teeth and clenched her jaw, a chill riveting her spine at the pressure she was exerting.

She clenched her fists and bade herself not to produce res in her anger, a passing look - or what appeared to be a passing look, her own shifting stance and the eerie glow of the moss more than capable of playing tricks on the mind - from Zeran, and she snapped. "Enough. I have had enough with your bullshyke." There was venom in her words, and a careful way of speaking as she ensured not to screw up her speech. "You can push and prod me to show you my magic all you want. You played your little tricks with your projection and whatever the hell it was. But I'm done, no more."

She wobbled slightly and the shift swept aside her fringe, the sudden coolness of her skin reminding him of his stupid little comment. "If you like the look of my little scar so much, I'll gladly give you one just like it."

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Arysana Elthorne

[Zeran]

Zeran's smile never faltered as Sana spluttered out half-sentences, even when she came face-to-face. He bristled as his passive senses picked up on her emotions, finally unbridled in force. It was difficult to take her seriously when he had to look down at her, and she up at him, and it didn't help speaking slowly. The intent was understood, she was meant to be threatening or intimidating, hoping that would be enough to stop him. Zeran saw it in a different manner, mentally clapping as Sana managed to get out a full sentence. Even if she had to concentrate on each word. Breaking contact with her green eyes, Zeran searched for something else to focus on, feeling he wouldn't be able to stop a laugh otherwise. Sana was trying so hard, telling him he'd be better off if he stopped where he was, not letting this go any further. Or maybe she wasn't, making it funnier that she was no longer aware of what she was doing. Pain in his mouth halted any noise he would've made, biting harder on his tongue if he felt its effectiveness drop. "What did the guy you punched say to get a bruised jaw?" he asked as Sana finished. "Either you're anger hasn't reached that level yet or I didn't give your meditation enough credit." Or it was because he had magic still floating around where her last victim didn't. "You should be proud of yourself." His eyes came to rest on her scar once more. Every scar had a story behind it, and it was another thing Zeran found himself wanting to know. I don't think I'll be hearing that story any time soon. Trying not to trip, Zeran took a single step backwards, raising his cane over his head. "Your offer is greatly appreciated," he said, stick staying where it was as he let go, locking his fingers around his limp hand and hoisting it upwards, showing Sana the back and the charred skin that came with it. "But I've already got one of my own thanks." The black flesh stood brazenly from its surroundings, assuring its presence was known. "I've grown quite fond of it, and I don't think it would approve of competition." Shrugging as the cane dropped into his open hand, he spoke. "Besides, it's not like you can anyway." The cane lead again, scouting out the ground ahead for any loose material to avoid, as Zeran stepped from rock to rock. "You said you can't punch, you've got no magic, and you don't look like you've got any kind of blade on that little figure of yours. What else would you try to use? A rock?" He smirked as he walked, chest out and head up, consciously giving off an arrogant appearance. The impression that he believed he was better than Sana. Refusing to look at her as he strode along. "Not that I think you're foolish enough to try, knowing I can use magic and not knowing if I've been entirely truthful with you." Jumping from point to point, he came to a halt as he realised he had no idea where he was going. He didn't want to leave just yet, he was having too much fun with Sana and it was probably still cold out. The thought sent shivers down his back, reminding him of the chill that had sunk deep when he'd trapped himself outside. Whilst the cave wasn't warm, it protected him from the worst of it and the reminder was enough for him to put off going outside a little longer. "Not that you are likely to answer," he started, turning back to face her, "but now we've established that you have no magic, what was the reason fr you coming to this cavern again?" He looked out into the depths of the cavern, a look of confusion settling on his face. "Now that I think about it, I still don't know where we are. I feel I should, but I don't. Still, lovely view." Zeran smiled warmly, still finding appreciation for the many shapes the lands took to house its inhabitants. Slowly turning back to Sana, he asked, "What about you Lady Hothead? Are you able to let me know where we are?"

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts' | oocWill Zeran happen across the trap... Or avoid it and make her so annoyed with her wasted efforts she just throws things at him?

Back and forth, and back again. This time Sana was slammed back at the site of Zeran's scar. It was a gristly one, no doubt coming with pain and harsh agony. Sana was lucky in that regard, her's was a clean cut. Sharp and painful, but done and dealt with rather quickly. Zeran's looked like there was a great deal of time before treatment, if there was any at all. She couldn't tear her gaze from it for the ticks that it was offered, her mouth drying as she sought words to accompany her rearing of emotion.

She couldn't help but find an utter lack of words to express at the man's apparent fondness for the mark, pressing her lips as she spared her own less than a single thought. Not a mere moment more of dwelling on it and she flared with another strike of anger.

Her breath left her, and then returned. She felt powerless and childish, and she hated it. Funnily enough, that was all the motivation she needed. Her breathing shortly steadied, and gaze set narrow on the man who'd managed to press her, an eerie calm washing over her form. There were still her surges of anger, coming on so strong that she ground her teeth and squeezed a fist in an attempt to quell the brimming rage before it affected her res production too greatly, and otherwise set off the semi-meditative state that her rage had brought on.

When Zeran pressed off and went about his little way, frolicking about the cave as he did, Sana rolled her eyes and took careful steps towards his drying clothing, taking seat nearby. She crossed her legs beneath her and grimace, folding her arms before unfolding them and resting them upon the mossy floor.

She didn't have her glyphs, nor the mirrors she was so used to using to monitor her own movement - everything was a whole new game. Her production was slow and careful, even more so as she took on the task of monitoring Zeran as she did so. 'Shyke, I need more time, and he's own of range.' She used the moss to her full advantage, and although the cave meant that she'd not be able to even consider attempting to attract earth, it meant that her little feat could be done with little notice, even with her short range. "Semele's Cavern," She said, biding time as she decidedly ignored the slight of 'Lady Hothead.' 'Calm and focused, calm and focused, calm and focused.' "Where in Gods' names were going?" She asked, her words clipped and alive with irritation.

Everytime she spoke she had to slow her res production, as if it wasn't going snail place as it was, and she was soon keenly monitoring the directions in which she let it trickle, tending her expression more towards pissed-off than that of ridiculous concentration. She had limited control as it was, for her level, Zeran's presence was no aid. Though, she wouldn't be doing what she was in the first place if it wasn't for the seething anger that boiled beneath her surface.

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Arysana Elthorne

[Zeran]

Zeran rubbed at his eyes, warding off the encroaching heaviness that came with the use of Auristics. He had tried to ignore it, pay no attention to it and it would be a feeling that would pass. Necessities could only be ignored for so long, however, before they returned in force to make up for lost time. It had been his hopes that switching his sight on and off would draw out its uses before the tiredness caught him, and it had worked for a while, but magic's leniency only stretched so far. "Semele's Cavern," he echoed, keeping fatigue from his voice as he racked his thoughts for the reason behind its familiarity. His head lifted from his palm, gaze lazily brushing over the cavern with newfound interest. "So this is the Semele's Cavern that people have spoken of?" Many stories and rumours made there way around Lhavit. A number even finding their way through Elena Lariat's doors. A recurring problem was discerning which were true and which were tales. No such problem existed now, as the cavern lived up to the words of its tranquil beauty. "It's quite a sight." The sudden change in Sana's demeanour was a cause for surprise. Shouting words carrying enough potency to put vipers to shame not chimes before, Sana's shift to sounding annoyed didn't make much sense in Zeran's mind. Sat on the floor, sitting atop crossed legs with hands pressed against the floor, with an expression he had come to associate with her etched into her features. Was she meditating again? Focusing on keeping her anger in check so she didn't show her reimancy as he had asked? Zeran had to admire the woman's perseverance, despite all his pushing. "Humbleness doesn't suit you," he said, looking down and then away from her. His left arm still drifted through the surrounding area, invisible to all except him. Even without tell-tale auras circling it, Zeran could feel where it was. It was still a part of him. "What happened to that fire you were nurturing moments ago? Don't tell me you have such a lack of conviction as to instantly back down." Weariness continued to persist, and it was only going to get worse as that limb remained outside of its home. Sana was adamant she wasn't going to demonstrate her skills, so there was no need to continue sacrificing energy for something that served no purpose. Safety? The limb wasn't needed. It was just hovering, expending much needed energy that would compromise his well-being if he ended up needing to be attentive. His hand found its position and the rest of his arm followed suit. Sana remained on the floor, not far from his own cloak. "I was going home." His knees bent slowly, cane holding most of his weight, preventing a sudden drop on top of an inconveniently placed spike that was bound to be there if they didn't. Down on the ground, he took the opportunity to close his eyes, as if keeping them shut for any length of time was similar to resting up. "The path up to the gate was frozen over and buried under a few layers of snow. I was cold and didn't fancy making the journey. Ended up finding your tracks and followed them down here. You should remember the rest unless you have a poor memory." Warmer than what he had been before entering, Zeran knew he'd have to make that journey soon. It was only going to get darker and the snow could stop or get progressively worse. He knew better than to leave things to chance. He'd rest for a bit, taking a break from his prodding, before he'd stick his head outside to see what the weather was like. If it was bearable, he'd grab his cloak and go. If not, he wouldn't mind camping in the cave for the night. He had plenty of water. What Sana would do was her own choice, and Zeran doubted she'd willingly stay with him for much longer, despite the weather conditions. She was too determined. He smiled.

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts'

He made a jab at her apparent simmering anger, Sana then locking her jaw and closing her eyes, her exhale was heavy and peeved off, clenching moss in her fists as a physical expulsion of irritation, halting the production of res, before she released her death grip and got back to work. 'In, out. In, out. Nice and simple. I can do this. Prove them wrong. Prove. Them. Wrong. Breathe in, breathe out.'

She let her hands rest on the rock, sliding her fingers and palm across the surface before taking note of how tight the most was attached the stone, further noting how the water that had dripped from some of Zeran's clothing was affecting the moss's grip and slipperiness. 'No. Focus. In, out, in out.' She slowed her production down even further, if noticeable at all, her eyes opening and seeking Zeran, resuming her inner mantra as the sheer sight of him lumbering about the cavern struck a cord in her very being. What in Gods names was he up to, now?

From what he'd said, he was homebound. That is what he's said. His story seemed well enough - there was little reason to lie, she figured. But he was laying down, then, out of her range. Great.She titled her head from left to right, using the short moment to take a scan of her mossy surroundings, allowing her res to seep beneath the moss. She pressed her lips, a light sigh leaving her as she considered overgiving. There was no way she'd be able to transmute her res to the same stone as the cavern, but she was hesitant about used her fall back transmutation, also feeling that the moss wouldn't fair well if it was packed earth that she created.

'Damn,' She broke, the short chain she'd been internally chanting shattering, and halting her res production all together as she drew it closer. "What bell is it?" she said, words quick and sharp. It was a wonder that she'd made the trek to the cavern without any interference or unwanted guests, but to return home in dusk? No, she didn't count herself lucky enough to get out completely unscathed.

'In, out. In, out.' she reminded herself, calming her quickened heart, hoping dearly that it was merely her own anxiety that had it beat to strongly and suddenly, drawing back in a small amount of res to calm herself as she shot look to the cave's entrance, trying to make sense of the leering shadows. "We should be good, we should be good," she breathed, gaze seeking her pack as she tried to figure a lure.

She opened her mouth to do just that, slamming it shut as she realised how strange it would be to ask someone to do something, when she herself seemed free. 'Zeran, you royal pain. Just walk freaking past already. Don't make me come over there.'

______________________________________________
Arysana Elthorne

[Zeran]

One eye opened, watching Sana talking to herself. It seemed a pointless question to ask in a cavern. Even having a sundial wouldn't have helped them in the dark, though he now wondered about the answer himself. How soon was soon? Zeran didn't know how long he had spent messing with Sana. It might already have been dark out, and her assurances didn't do much to quieten his thoughts. In no rush, he sat still, breathing slowly, for a few chimes longer before clambering to his feet once more, groaning as he moved. Wordlessly, the entrance drew closer. The amount of light that found its way to the bottom was a reassuring sign, but Zeran's curiosity refused to be satisfied as simply as that. Cool air nipped at his skin as he found himself looking up the rock face he had scaled down to the cavern, now his only way out, and snow still fell from the clouds above, dancing in the winds as they fell to the ground. The footholds he had used on the way down now copied their neighbours, each holding their own sheet of snow. Zeran moved his hand from one hold to the next, gripping and testing each platform before deciding which he would start the climb with. Some shifted under his weight, others weren't generous enough with the amount of hold they gave, yet there were still plenty favourable alternatives when taking those ones out. Zeran thought back to his way down, to the technique he had copied from Sana's handiwork. If he did that in reverse, surely it would get him to the top. Placing his cane to one side, he got to work. Securing his hand on a protruding ledge, Zeran lifted one foot into a recess in the stone, almost resting fully on it. He searched for his next hold before lifting up, saving himself from dangling for too long between moves. Selecting one, Zeran straightened his leg as he kicked off the ground, grabbing onto the ledge as it came within reach. Finding another ledge to rest his other foot wasn't difficult, but now he hugged the wall searching for his next hold. "I should've planned my path first," he muttered. The remainder of the journey was relatively simple, once his feet reached where his hands had been. The path his hands had planned out now lead the way for his feet to follow, knowing that the next step had already been proven to be a secure one. Snowflakes took purchase in his hair and over the fabric of his shirt, as the temperature dropped closer to the top. The roots were a familiar sight, marking the arrival of a certain friend responsible for the cavern's discovery. "Hello again," he said to the tree as his head met the surface. "How's it looking up here?" White, as it had before he had journeyed underground. The snow's intensity hadn't seemed to have changed, though the light had. It was darker, certainly, but still light enough that daring a journey back was not entirely foolhardy. The only thing that offered a threat was the dark grey cloud approaching the city. "I do not like the look of that. It doesn't look very friendly... See you later tree!" Ducking his head back underground, Zeran retraced his path back down the wall and into the cavern, grabbing his cane as he passed. Shaking himself as he had seen many dogs do, Zeran threw any snow that had been rude enough to help itself to a seat to the ground. "There are things to be learnt from animals. After all, they're much better surviving outside cities than we are." His words were aimed at no one, as he voiced his thoughts without realising. Zeran raised one hand to his forehead, dipping his head in reverence. "I pray that our Lady Tanroa blesses me with enough time to make the journey back." His head came back up, walking towards his cloak and looking over at Sana. "Weather seems to be holding for the time being, Lady Hothead," he said as he drew close. "Though I'm not sure how much longer my Goddess can give us. Unless you fancy fighting the elements, I suggest we get going sometime about now." If Sana decided against it simply to spite him, she probably considered him more trouble than the looming weather. His words ended with a smile, as he bent for his cloak.

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts' | oocAnnnnd I am definitely going to go start a reimancy training thread. Or two. Maybe shift the date of one I've already started >.>

It was still snowing, that much was certain, though the amount that the light had lessened was still largely unknown. With the entrance rather hidden as it was, and the wretched tree standing tall in a position to possibly block out what was left of Syna's light, there was a chance that it wasn't as late as it seemed, even more so - there was a chance that it was later, the heavy clouds foreboding any noticeable change in light or temperature. 'No, no. Stop worrying about the time and weather. Focus.'

Sana shuddered, pressing herself once more with her mantra, finding the little chant losing it's punch as her eyes sought Zeran's path, eye brow furrowing shortly as she added another little nuance to pore a slither of attention to - climbing. Among other interesting little ways, she learned by watching and critiquing. How did this one do it, how did they struggle, why and how to fix it. Which footholds proved strong and weak, what sections seemed difficult and why didn't they choose this course. As simple a climb as it was, it wasn't one that could be done with no thought, even more so with the cold biting at one's fingers.

She remained transfixed on his path as he disappeared from view, taking a moment to properly gather herself once more. She let her focus sit on Zeran's cloak, deciding that the cold would likely drive him to it once he returned, and pulling back her res to surround it, with the greater part of it more focused to where she hoped her coming victim would soon stand.

She gave a steady breath, once more driving the res downward, and seeping it through the moss, biting her lip as to drown out any possible distraction, shuffling slightly closer towards the cloak as she noted her preferred reach was just too far for her. She forced herself into an even tempo, before beginning a preliminary work of sorts, unsure of how she would be able to leave the moss as undamaged as she could manage by the end of her little skit.

She'd already acknowledge her inability to somewhat safely attract the kind of stone that lined the walls of the cave, and took to other methods to have her little trick work it's magic. Her clamp on her lip hardened as she began her first little wave of transmutation. It was a stone that she fell back on as her main transmutations, it's rather low density and lightness meaning that it wasn't nearly as hard on her as heavier stones.

She started in the hardest place at first, knowing that she would be able to do little with it once push came to shove, there was little she could do reasonably safely with anything more than half a meter from her. She wanted to screw with Zeran, not send him to The Catholicon. 'Although... No. Don't think like that.' She tasted iron as she continued her work, not in a mindset well enough to spare a thought to it's cause - whether it was herself drawing blood from her lip, overgiving already in affect, or a combination of both.

She wedged her res between the moss and the stone, before transmuting a thin layer of rock separating the two, continuing on until she had all within her reach and desire prepared. She gave herself a solid breath, gaze shortly acknowledging Zeran's begin to climb down back to the cavern before she drained the remainder of her res through the porous rock she'd just transmuted, and pooling it between the stone wall of the cave and her transmutation.

She bid her thundering heart to calm down enough to pursue casual conversation, shortly giving up as she deemed Zeran's words more to himself than to her, though taking special acknowledgement to his prayer to his Goddess, before pressing her lips and finding a puncture in the bottom. 'Great. I'm going to have to watch that.'

At his use of the word 'us,' she almost regretted what she was about to. Almost. Him calling her 'Lady Hothead' helped dissolve any remorse before it took full root. The anticipation was killing her, and she almost jumped the gun in her final transmutations, struggling for the control she required to have all go as planned. It wasn't as though she was creating some complex structure - just a lump here and there, some larger and some smaller than others, with the slightest use of earth attraction as she coaxed the thin layer of rock she'd already laid to not crack and stab Zeran, effectively putting her use of the moss as a pillow or buffer layer to a waste of time.

As he bent for his cloak and sent Sana one of his stupid smiles, she couldn't help but throw one back before the earth writhed alive beneath him. The aim was simple enough, fall him or have him lose his balance. The moss seemed thick enough such that the rogue jutting of earth should do little harm, and to soften his tumble should he take one.

She started at his feet, transmuting a hollow bump by his right foot, before another in plain sight, before splintering the small bump in a fashion that it ended in a rather larger mound beneath his left. She did her best to make the transmutations quick and smooth, and although she was the kind self destructive enough to not mind going into the reaches of over-giving, that didn't quite mean she was willing to walk back to the main city in such a state.

The next ripple of earth began at her hand, before she transmuted her res in a reasonably quick wave, splitting it off into three smaller ripples decreasing in size once it reached within a foot of her target, two of which passed under foot. She was tempted to go further, before the taste of iron in her mouth reminded her of her state and limits, and how she'd certainly already crossed some at least, and put her in a position to think that her thoughts were not her own. Sweet whispers, that was, was something she simply refused to acknowledge as her own will.

"I think I'll stop there," she said to herself, a blissful little giggle escaping her, combating her own thoughts as she tried to discern what was a dangerous desire to continue, and what was innocent play and her own desire to 'show her magic.' She stood, then, giggle still bubbling, before surveying her little damage with a look of complete and utter smugness. "You're right, though," she pressed a finger to her bottom lip, trying to figure whether or not she was speaking with a bloody mouth, her complacent little smirk never faltering as she did so. "We should probably get going."

______________________________________________
Arysana Elthorne

[Zeran]

An alien noise reached up from beneath, not allowing any time to think on its origins. The surface dipped away from Zeran's foot, as it sprang upwards underneath the other. He staggered at the sudden movement, arms flailing outwards as he tried to regain balance. What was going on? He was almost certain that rock did not attack feet, yet here it was throwing him around like a child's doll. His arms steadied as his balance began to return to him, only to be robbed of it once more as the stone beneath his feet shifted like a rug, stealing Zeran's footing from him and toppling him. He noticed his mistake as the world turned on itself. He had let his guard down and the stone had taken the opening to strike. Turned out that stone was a lot more cunning than anyone gave it credit for. A string of incoherent words left Zeran's mouth as his shoulder met the floor, cushioned only by a patch of moss. It was better than nothing, but the preference was he hadn't fallen to start with. The stalactites decorating the ceiling all pointed down with accusing fingers, laughing at Zeran's misfortune. Any doubts about the possibility of falling over whilst standing still, and being completely sober, had been erased by his demonstration, much to his own aches and Semele's amusement. The dull pain in his shoulder didn't complain as much if he didn't move. The damp soaked into the cloth of his shirt, carrying a certain level of warmth that he remembered from when he had submerged himself earlier. He lay on the floor, still trying to work out what had just happened. He'd picked up his cloak, and the floor had sprung to life. It didn't make any more sense in his head regardless of the number of times it went around, and mumbling his thoughts didn't help either. When the heaviness in his eyelids outweighed the shock, Zeran decided he'd had enough. I've plenty of time to think about it on the way back. I don't have plenty of time to make it back though. Back on his feet again, he cautiously stepped over the uneven floor of the cavern, trying to not upset the rock any more than he had apparently done so. Zeran's slow strides soon returned to normal steps again as he felt confident he'd been forgiven. Although, it could be leading him into a false sense of security. He kept his head down, watching the floor for any movement, only tearing them away in response to Sana's statement. "You're coming with me?" he asked, a hint of genuine surprise aimed at the redhead. His head shook in disbelief as he approached the climbing entrance. After all the hassle she had gotten from him, even to the point her anger exploded to match Ivak's, Sana was now willingly choosing to stick with him for a while longer. Either she was that forgiving, or something wasn't quite right in her head. "I would've thought you'd wait around meditating some more until you knew I was gone." A jump brought the desired ledge into reach, stepping onto a foothold to begin his ascent. His haste was rewarded with a handful of crumbling stone, as the ledge broke away from the wall under the unexpected weight, sending Zeran on his back to the floor again. "This cavern is trying to kill me!" The brisk chill of the winter air was refreshing now that he wasn't freezing. Snow crunched beneath his boots with each step, treading back and forth just to hear the noise. He knew better this time round, wrapping the cloak tight to prevent heat loss earlier on, instead of waiting until it was almost gone before trying to hold on to what dregs of it were left. "You're going to want to hurry up if you're tagging!" he called back down the hole at Sana. The dark cloud was looming in the distance, drawing closer with each passing tick. Zeran wasn't sure what it would bring, but it didn't look like it would be any better than the current snowfall. "Whilst the hot air you talk would be nice in this weather, I can survive long enough without it until I get back!"