Sharing

Logfile from Aroree 3-9-01
Players: Aroree, Tsoran and Zora

Grotto
Water cascades from the very heart of this cavern, from its spiralling roof down over the forms of stone to the uneven floor. In the center of the room a number of circular basins nest, each within a larger one, sinking in order into the floor and edged with shells shape from the very stone. Water fills each of these basins, as in the old days, constantly flowing from the fountain clean and being eventually drained away. The circulation ensures only the very purest water is in the basins at any given time.
Illuminated with the same far-off luminescence as the water and most of the Mountain, two paths sinew off into the stone: one low-ceilinged hallway, and a set of stairs descending into the floor.

Tsoran has arrived after a long descent from the south hall.

Aroree is soaking in the water, all done washing up and just relaxing.

Tsoran glides in silently, apparently on a similar errand. ** Aroree. Mind if I join you? **

Aroree blinks and straightens up, "oh... Tsoran... sorry, I almost dozed off there I think." she shakes her head and brushes a damp lock back behind her ear "Of course, could I deny you the right to bathe?"

Tsoran nods acknowledgement, and strips out of his uniform. "Some do seem to prefer their privacy." He slips into the water.

Aroree sighs "I like company... it makes it easier to ignore the problems of the world." she frowns slightly "You are leaving for Lostholt soon, are you not?"

Tsoran settles himself comfortably in the water, considering. "Problems of the world? Can't say I've noticed them. Yes, we'll be going to Lostholt quite soon." He regards Aroree. "Anything in particular on your mind?"

Aroree dips down a bit lower in the water, getting her hair wet again "Too much, my friend, too much entirely." a bit of a sigh as she straightens up again, dripping "I hope the trip goes well... many of the lostholt elves dislike gliders in general"

Tsoran's lip curls in a little smile. "So they do." Not that this is in any way troubling to him, of course.

Tsoran locksends ** Perhaps you worry too much. **

You say "You are probably right. But it is my nature to worry, an old habit that I doubt I shall be getting out of anytime soon. I would that our people were not so universally hated."

You say "So many of our woodland cousins react to the sight of gliders aloft in fear and hatred."

Tsoran's lip curls a little. "But fewer of them than a few decades ago, wouldn't you say?"

Aroree sighs "I haven't been counting, though indeed it's been a good long while since anyone shot arrows at me on sight."

Tsoran says "And in another few decades, they will not even remember that they used to. Our lords ways is slow, but not without effect, wouldn't you say?"

You say "And what caused the ill feeling to begin with, my friend?"

Tsoran touches a finger to his lips. "If memory serves, one of the outsiders mistook Kureels bondbird for their dinner. It was not the best of beginnings."

You say "It was more than that... one mistake and then we handled the outcome poorly, is it just me or did thinks spiral down from that point quickly becoming worse and worse."

Tsoran says "Poorly, Aroree? They were left alive, and merely made to repay the loss through their services. Worse things have happened, for less reason."

You say "It could have been done more diplomatically... beginings are delicate things."

Tsoran murmurs softly. "Fair is fair. And who would have thought that they would gain such numbers, so quickly? Things might have turned out different, had it only been that first, small tribe."

Aroree frowns slightly "What matter how many of them there are? We are not at war, Tsoran. We should rejoice that elvin kind has grown."

Tsoran locksends ** Some might disagree with that definition. Kureel, certainly. **

Aroree nods, just slightly and looks down at her hands in the water "True. The greatest challenge we face as Chosen are those within the mountain. Dangers outside are so easily locked out"

You sense in a locksend, Tsoran's send is a dark velvet, soft and comforting. ** Our greatest danger will always be within our selves. A failing of heart and mind, less easily healed that damage to the flesh. **

Aroree meets your gaze for a heartbeat, then looks away. She speaks quietly words not meant to carry to the chamber beyond "I know that all too well, my friend."

Tsoran speaks softly in return. "Still afraid to send?"

Aroree does not answer that question.

You sense in a locksend, Tsoran touches your mind again, with perfect care, revealing none of his own feelings. ** That would be most unfortunate. **

Aroree closes her eyes a moment, as if settling her resolve, checking and shoring up those delicate defenses of the mind, only then does she return your sending, her mind touching yours with all the delicacy of a fluttering moth's wing, very careful to hide what lies beneath and only send words, so difficult... and the effort in and of itself is revealing, isn't it? ** I have no desire to share my shame **

You sense in a locksend, Tsoran's touch is delicate, a whisper or breath, a shadow falling. ** Your conscience is more delicate than mine, I suspect. We all have... darkness of our own, but that is no cause for shame. **

You locksend to Tsoran, Aroree's reply is a somewhat petulant ** You don't know what it's like ** and she regrets those words instantly... so childish... she shakes her head. ** I supose you would not be ashamed, in my place? **

You sense in a locksend, Tsoran's mental touch winds intimately around your self, but unthreateningly, still. No...pressure, as it were. ** Then show me what it is like, Aroree. And I will be able to answer your question. ** There is a shimmer of amusement. ** Very few things have ever caused me shame, sweet sister. I doubt anything of yours would. **

Aroree frowns, and rises from her seat on the opposite side of the pool and moves over beside you with a gentle rippling noise of the water. She looks at you quietly a moment, as if she would read your thoughts in your face.

You locksend to Tsoran, Aroree is still guarded, afraid... but... what more is there to fear? You know.... ** To be completely dependant? To have your soul not be your own anymore? I am an animal on a leash now, Tsoran... would you really wish to know what that feels like? **

Tsoran's expression is calm and neutral, as it usually is when Lord Winnowill is not nearby. He reaches out gently, taking your hands, and all but whispers: "Do you trust me, Aroree?"

You sense in a locksend, Tsoran's send whispers silkily in your mind. ** My soul belongs to another, if not in the way you mean. Your situation is perhaps not as alien to me as you think.** And then there is an increase of pressure, both physical and mental as he squeezes your hands. ** Share with me what you feel now. **

Aroree wispers her reply "Sometimes, old friend, sometimes I do." she lowers her eyes, her breath catches in her throat a moment at the sending... "very well."

You locksend to Tsoran, Aroree releases that carefully guarded shield she placed around her sending and when it falls there is a torrent of emotion, shame, fear, hatred, self-loathing, anger... but it is nothing compared to what lies beneath, the hunger, all consuming constant hunger. Need. Louder than thunder in the skies, stronger than a hurricane's gale, insistant and impossible to ignore as a gaping wound. There is a cold certainty there, what truely frightens her soul, of what she would be willing to do to cease that call. She loathes it, hates the desire... but in the end the need is stronger than her hatered of it. Anything, anything to fill that need.

Tsoran regards Aroree. Then leans a little closer, touching his forehead to hers, her hands still trapped in his his. A symbolic gesture, perhaps - but symbols have power. And then he sends.

You sense in a locksend, Tsoran's mind has no similarity to velvet now, taking on the feel of polished, black marble. Reflecting your thoughts, while keeping the shape of his own intact. And slowly, carefully, lowering his own barriers to absorb the sensations you have hidden so carefully. In the lightless lands that form the images of sending, there is a sudden shift in perception, and the black marble resolves into an exact image of Tsoran, holding strong against the buffeting winds of your mental gale. ** I feel your need, Aroree. But still, you hold yourself back. **

You locksend to Tsoran, Aroree falters a moment, uncertain... ** How can I not? ** there is a feeling of frightening power, holding something very fragile in her hands that could be crushed with a careless touch... hold herself back? Yes, of course... otherwise what damage she could do

You sense in a locksend, Tsoran searches the shared mental image for the unspoken truths. It is difficult to keep anything truly hiddin, in such close a contact. Then, with a faint mental smile, he lets the torrent catch him. Let us see where that leads. Unafraid, he leaves himself in your power.

You locksend to Tsoran, Aroree's hands shake, just a moment, but she's far from noticing the physical world right now. ** No... do not... ** but she lacks the ability to reverse the tide, once she could have... but it's grown so much stronger... it envelopes you with a sick sort of joy, the love an owl has for a fleet and juicy mouse, wrapping around the mind she's found whispering soft tales of need and want. It's almost fascinating how quickly you are ensnared, skillfully... Her mind probes yours deeper looking for dreams, fantasies, anything... disregarding that it is a waking, thinking mind she searches this time, there is a madness as well, a looming insanity ready to break through full of the years of pent up guilt and failings, how long can someone survive without dreaming?

You sense in a locksend, Tsoran's mind is of course filled with a single dream - an all overpowering image that is the focus of all his dreams, waking or non, and all that he desires. Winnowill. The godlike, all-powerful, all-knowing Winnowill - Or so she is in his mind. And here, what is true is real. The butterfly image of her eyes open in his mind, knowing, mocking...

You locksend to Tsoran, Aroree drinks in the dream like fine wine, despirately pulling it to herself... yet it does not even begin to fill, and the hunger grows louder in the presence of sustinence, slowly, painfully Aroree grows aware of what is happening and she tears away with audible cry of anguish, the hunger screams in outrage at being denied... but still she pulls away in anger and shame ** No... **

There is a splashing as Aroree breaks the physical connection as well, pulling away abruptly causing water to lap over the edge of the pool.

(continued on 3-10-01)

Tsoran leans back, opening his eyes and blinking a little as he adjusts. Water, mountain, self... Right. He stares at Aroree.

Aroree presses her back to the far edge of the pool, her arms wrapped around herself tightly. "You wanted to know." She reminds you in a voice that is far from steady. She closes her eyes tight, turning attention inward, aching still from severing that connection, and fighting the desire to continue.

Tsoran nods thoughtfully, still digesting what he just experienced. He rises from the water, and walks softly around the edge of the pool to seat himself behind Aroree. "I...see. I think."

You sense Tsoran places his hand on your shoulder.

A shudder runs through Aroree's body and for a moment you sense her start to send... but she stops imediately, no... too dangerous to renew even a slight connection to your mind, it could grow again so fast. She forces in a deep breath and opens her eyes again, though she does not turn to look at you "It grows stronger... every day."