"Reaching Out to a Friend" Log Date: 10/11/00 Log Cast: Delilah, Faanshi Log Intro: All magics carry with them some kind of burden -- but in a number of ways, clairvoyance is one of the hardest magics to bear. Especially when it brings visions of the death of a friend's beloved... and one must deal with the grief the news of such visions brings. Even though her life has been difficult to bear in ways she could never have imagined ever since the halfbreed shudra rescued her from the streets, the young seeress Delilah has been grateful to Faanshi ever since the healer brought her to Atesh-Gah. And anxious, too, for Faanshi to be to her what both of the young women have had in short supply in their lives: a friend. Despite the differences in their respective castes, Delilah has striven to reach out to the desperately lonely halfbreed... and after seeing what the dire news she's brought Faanshi has done to the healer's heart, Delilah tries to reach out to her again. Even if it means that she must sneak to the herb-shop where the grief-stricken Faanshi is staying -- and without the guards of Clan Messala that _usually_ accompany her everywhere she goes.... *===========================< In Character Time >===========================* Time of day: Morning Date on Aether: Sunday, March 23, 3907. Year on Earth: 1507 A.D. Phase of the Moon: First Quarter Season: Early Spring Weather: Breeze Temperature: Cool *==========================================================================* A Moment in Thyme - Haven A multitude of smells mingle in the air of the small shop, combining from plants hanging from the ceiling or sitting on the shelves, or concoctions simmering over the hearth set into the side wall, or any of a number of sources. The wall opposite the hearth appears to be a work area of some sort, with a scarred table covered with tools, containers, and partially finished projects. The back of the shop is where all the finished goods are kept, it seems, judging from the full shelves - all organized with careful precision, despite how full they are. In fact, the entire shop is kept clean, the wooden floor well-scrubbed to an almost glossy shine. A set of chimes hangs near the door, jangling softly whenever the door is opened. Contents: Delilah Obvious exits: Private Quarters Out Although it is spring, many of Haven's female population are still favoring the skirts and shawls of winter to protect their skin from the breezes that still flow. One of these, a young woman who appears to be a short Varati although she is veiless, opens the door to 'A Moment in Thyme' after peering uneasily at a peice of paper. But she does enter, finding relief from the breese that ruffles many women's skirts. She moves akwardly in the blasted things, and starts guiltly at the chimes. She mutters something to herself, before raising her voice. "Faanshi?" she calls, sounding oh-so-familiar to any shudra who happen to hear her. But she looks almost nothing like the former street urchin-turned Seeress for one of the greatest Varait Clans. The shop is fairly quiet at this hour, FallingStar's periodic customers not yet having begun to wander by as of yet today. Herbs of countless different scents layer aromas through the air, but in the midst of it all is a distinct scent of, well, _dog_. At the sound of the chimes by the door, the source of that doggish odor is readily obvious, for a storm of barking assures that thanks to Kosha, anyone within the shop who hadn't heard the chime is now undoubtedly aware that someone's arrived. The big hound comes scampering up out of a corner, tail a-wag, and suddenly there's a hundred pounds of dog ready, willing, and able to thoroughly sniff this small figure at the door in greeting. In the meantime, Kosha's mistress has been kneeling at one of the shelves, pushing herself slowly through the task of taking inventory of what her acarya has stocked here. It's dull work, but anything is better than keeping her mind unoccupied... and fortunately for Faanshi, someone calling her name from the door is another distraction. She looks up, startled, recognizing the voice but then not the solitary little figure from which it emerges. "I... imphada Delilah?" she blurts. The young woman is hit by a houndred pounds of dog, wavy hair, blacker than pitch, flowing as she is almost knocked off her feet. "Namaste, Faanshi" she says, with a wicked twinkle in her eyes. She akwardly ties the shawl around her waits, after pushing the dog off of her and giving him a peice of jerky she honest-to-atar bought with her own pocket money to keep him busy. See? He's not so bad, when you know how to handle him! For a few moments, Faanshi looks decidedly flustered, something that might almost be panic flashing across her eyes above her veil. Then she collects herself, setting down the pouch she had just been investigating, along with the parchment on which she had been taking notes for FallingStar's benefit later. "Kosha," she scolds, "be at peace..." But the dog's already happily scarfed up the jerky, plopping down right by the door to gnaw it into a gooey mess and then inhale the remains. Faanshi is left to make a gingerly course to her young visitor, towards whom she bows as formally as always, murmuring, "Namaste'..." Still, though, there's something vaguely disoriented about her, discernible even with the shudra's apparently chronic shyness -- a listlessness to her movements, perhaps. Or a lost look to her eyes. "You... you are without guards, Imphada...?" Delilah nods. "I didn't want to make this a big deal." she says, "Or frighten you with guards." she adds, grimmacing. Some might find the two hulking brutes who follow her arround attractive, but she's been havign to live with them."And its just Deli." she says, "There is definately no need to be formal!" she says. If one looked really closely, one could see that the young woman has a black eyes, covered up with cosmetics imperfectly. She also favors her left foot, but that isn't so evident thanks to the skirts. At your lost look, she looks depressed, knowing that its her fault Faanshi is in this situation. The shudra maiden crouches before Delilah, not to kneel before her necessarily, but to try to get a better look at her damaged face. If there is anything that can startle Faanshi out of the waves of heartsickness that threaten to swamp her whenever she doesn't thoroughly occupy her mind, it is the sight of someone's being injured. "You are hurt," she whispers, blinking a few times as if surprised to realize this. Delilah nods, a grimmace twisting her thin lips. "Yeah." she says, "A incident with some graisha the otherday." She is really growing tired of tellign everyone this. "But I didn't come to get my injuries healed; I came to visit a sick friend." she says firmly. "How are you doing?" Faanshi's sungolden brow crinkles in mild dismay, and her gaze roves for a moment over the signs of that bruise about the young girl's eye. Then she bows her head in submission; she might have just been instructed to avoid calling her Imphada, but Delilah's still of noble blood, and if the youngster does not wish her to heal her, far be it from Faanshi to gainsay her. In a low, strengthless voice she whispers, "I-I am not... ill, Imph... Delilah..." Delilah sighs. "You are emotionally ill, Faanshi." she says, "Believe me, I completely understand," she says, after a moment. She does not mention the fact she is almost as emotionally disraught, having no one who really understands her. The only thign the boys see when they look at her is a runt. Or a easy lay, depending. Faanshi's gaze comes back up, greatly hesitant. Still crouching as she is, she's managed to put herself almost eye to eye with the younger girl, and the shudra gazes over at her now as if somehow profoundly surprised by something, either her appearance or perhaps the simple fact that she is _here_. "I..." It cannot be seen, though nevertheless, she swallows hard behind her veil. "I-I will endure," she finally rasps out. Even before this youngster, it seems, she has difficulty admitting to being in dire straits. "You... truly came... for me? I-I am not needed, no one is ill...?" If indeed it is something in her appearance, there is much to notice, from her budding breasts to her not-quite-finished-forming hips, she screams puberty. But it is more likely because she is here. Delilah nods firmly. "For a friend." she says, "In fact, to my knowledge, I'm the most injured." she says. See? People DO care! No one got hurt while you're gone cuz they lllluuuvv ya! That strangely disoriented look comes over Faanshi again; veil or no veil, it seems that Delilah's words have shocked her deeply, adding to that sense of dislocation with which she has been struggling for days now. "You will... you will let me heal you, perhaps....? As a friend...?" The request bursts out of her with unexpected strength, as if she's seized desperately upon the distraction of this tiny service, but there's also deep concern fighting for a place in what little is visible of Faanshi's expression. Even in the grip of grief, the halfbreed cannot espy a hurt and let it go unremarked upon for long. Kosha, in the meantime, has tucked away that jerky with seemingly no effort whatsoever. He now regards Delilah in blissful abandon, tail wagging back and forth. Perhaps the small person will provide him with more food, hmmm? Delilah nods, giving her permission "If you will forget the fact that I happened to be born in a different caste in private, that i'm just a young woman, the same as you, who needs a friend." she says, spreading her hands out in an open fashion. But she quickly reaches into a pocket and pulls out something she found someone else selling. He said it was like a bone, but much healthier. he called it a chewie. It does not take much at the moment for Faanshi to be stricken by tears. Delilah's words are more than enough, and so for that matter is the sight of her pulling out what can only be a chew-toy for the hopeful-eyed dog. Kosha's tail wags harder at the sight and smell of it, and he skitters eagerly closer to the young girl who holds it. For a moment Faanshi simply crouches there, eyes turning liquid, before she shakes herself and pulls herself to her feet, rubbing a hasty hand across her eyes. "Forgive me," she breathes, and this time it seems to be something more somehow than the reflexive apology of a servant who thinks she's displeased her master. "I-I am not accustomed--" She cuts herself off, then, not bothering to finish the thought. She is not accustomed to kshatri maidens making blunt statements of friendship to her, but it is not important. What is important at the moment is the attending of that bruise. The halfbreed takes a timid step forward, lifting a sungolden hand to cup it gently about Delilah's cheek. Aether flows, and for naught but the minor injuries the girl has taken, it does not need to flow very strongly. The touch of it is light and gentle as the touch of Faanshi's own fingers; in seconds, with no more effort than it takes to sigh, the hurts subside. Delilah lifts a hand much much darker than the healers to her eye, then to her side, where the crazy bitch had clawed her. She smiles when she feels nothing, giving Faanshi a thankful hug. "Thanks!" she says, meaning for more than the healing. making friends is just as new for the Seeress as for the Healer, if for different reasons. She had, at some point, released the chew-toy to the dog and patted his head. Faanshi accepts the hug readily, wrapping her arms about the slighter frame of the seeress; there's still a bit of shakiness about the embrace, a hint of fragility to her touch, but at least the shudra seems willing enough to let herself accept this show of affection. "You are welcome," she whispers, wonderingly. And then she pulls back a bit, green eyes very full as she looks down to the younger girl. "I-I-I am pleased to see you..." Delilah smiles, her own smoky eyes rather watery. It just goes to show; you don't need to be a water-elemental to make water. "See me what?" she urges, reassuringly. Her mind, however, slips back to what the only other person she could almost consider a friend said. Oh, ATAR! Is she in trouble if Elyane told! she carefully keeps all signs of distress under control, lest she ruin Faanshi's budding confidance. "See you _here_," Faanshi explains, apparently in utmost earnestness. She straightens up again, letting her visitor go, but still seeming a trifle at a loss as to what exactly to do with her here. Brow crinkled, she appends, "The Imphadi Sumai... he will not be angry that you... have come alone...?" Bemused, and perhaps a touch scared, the healer maiden flashes a peek at the door. Perhaps she expects a Messala warrior to come through it at any moment? Delilah shrugs. "He told me that if I went without guards, I'd be grounded for a month to th embassary's grounds." she says. She then grins, her eyes still a little watery. "But unless Elyane, my personal shudra, tell, i'm home free." she assures her friend. And Elyane likes me, she adds to herself. But enough to lie to the man that owns her family? Delilah regretfully breaks the hug. "But all the same, I'd better get back." she says, "I never know when Sumai might need my magic." she explains, idly petting the dog on her way to the door. "I'll visit agian. Or send Elyane with a letter" she says, untying the shawl. She's leaving? Already? Faanshi swallows again behind her veil, unable to suppress a frantic little voice in the back of her head that wants to cry out that she can't stand to be alone... not right now. But she manages to keep from blurting that out. This startling desire of Delilah's to be her friend -- _her_ friend -- is new and strange enough that to do anything but dazedly accept any bits of company the girl can spare her is almost all that Faanshi can do. And besides -- if it's a Warlord's will that Delilah should be with his Clan, who is she to selfishly wish otherwise. Once more inclining her head, the healer pulls in an unsteady breath. "Thank you... th-thank you for coming to see me...!" Delilah smiles over her shoulder. "It was my pleasure, Faanshi." she says, opening the door and leaving, very reluctant. She is quickly lost in the crowd, as she moves towards Atesh-Gah, to the east and north. [End log.]