[Cantarella takes a seat at the table when invited, though she doesn't yet touch the tea. It would be impolite manners.]
While I'd rather not admit it, those cards delivered to you were accurate enough. However the information happened to get there. Mine does paint a portrait, doesn't it?
[Even if, without context, that portrait may be closer to the public perception of everything written there.]
A somewhat amused Cantarella will watch Sage's parkour, only intervening to politely offer to pour the tea, given that Sage is currently a foot tall. Will they be having some themself? She's happy to assist and clearly has some experience with etiquette.]
Then you must not be one to let rumors and stories inform what you think of a person, either...I can see it'll take a lot more than some gossip to stir you. [Tough crowd...no wonder they're so difficult to impress.] Some people prefer to do things their own way, walking a resolute path, and there are others who will pave a road where it otherwise seems impossible. I've always been the latter, as I prefer to find my own way out of situations.
All heads of the Fisalia family wear some lethal moniker or another...but as "The Bane," I just happen to be the most potent yet. You could say my interest in crafting poisons and potions is more of an obsession.
And I'd say I've a rather fashionable eye. [THOSE BOOTIES ARE GREAT.]
Sage seems more than happy to let Cantrella take the wheel here, letting her pour some of the boiling water into her cup. But, they shake their head when she moves to pour in Sage's cup. Not yet. Can't have it steeping for too long, after all. ]
You are on the constant lookout for new knowledge of your craft, then, so that you may improve upon your talent and feed your obsession.
[ Just a theory of theirs. An impression. ]
As for your sense of sytle... it meets my expectations, though I had no doubt that it would.
[Her head tilts when the pour is rejected.] This jellyfish cannot bite, you know, nor does it possess the venom of a jellyrose. I'm afraid I can't do anything about the sting.
[I'M SO...SORRY...SAGE... Based on her playfulness, it might be a little hard to tell whether word of Sage's aversion to medusae is something she knows or not. It might also be easy to tell that it doesn't matter; she'd act the same either way. Beyond that...fashion is a lighter topic and will be easy to discuss when the tea is actually ready to drink.]
They also know few desires...but mine is liberation. Of dreams, of people...and perhaps even the ability to drink regular tea like this once more and serve it to an important visitor.
A little sting has never been a terrible thing. Though... I will tell you of my hesitation towards jellyfish another time, if you wish.
[ Idle words, delivered softly. It sounds like Sage really wouldn't mind sharing, at least.
Sage adjusts the tea bag in Cantarella's tea, ensuring that it's properly submerged. ]
You have lofty aspirations. [ The puppets head tilts up towards her. ] Yet you carry yourself in a way that leads me to think you have the resolve to see it through.
Hesitation towards jellyfish? I'm a little wounded...though I understand well enough the horrors of the deep. Perhaps I can change your mind...or at least coax it towards understanding.
[She watches them fuss with the teabag with some amusement. Sage is a surprisingly diligent host, after all, for someone who is also so stern.]
That'd be a far loftier ambition than my current desires. [She pauses, hand moving idly. As proudly and elegantly as she may hold herself, there's not a lot of ego there.] It's a very small thing, compared to what could be lost.
[Truly adorable puppet behavior, actually. She'll smile in acknowledgment of her future opportunity to shoot her shot with jellyfish propaganda.
Cantarella rests her elbow on the table in front of her so she might cradle her chin in her hand, bringing her just slightly more in line with the figure's "eye" level.]
Why, my very world, of course.
[The simplest and most concise answer she could possibly give.]
This is not a topic for open discussion, as secrecy is what has maintained safety for centuries.
[She drums her fingers a little bit, pausing around the thought. There have been no whispers sice she arrived here; here dreams have been troubled, but not the dark and unescapable abyss that suffocates her. It's an odd place, being able to think clearly about it. Things are too tenuous for much more than this, and if she goes further there will have to be more trust still between them.]
The initial battle for control of Rinascita's "soul" concluded a long time ago, though many do not know its true nature. Levithan works to destroy civilization from within, corrupting its people and transforming them into mindless puppets of its gospel.
[ The puppet’s head tilts, waiting as Cantarella deliberates. If there’s an air of mild surprise when she speaks, well. They can’t help it. ]
Mindless puppets of gospel…
[ Said to themselves, but. ]
My mind immediately thinks of a similar concept on my star. Tempering. The inability to think of aught else but the primal you worship, caused by close contact with the primal in question.
[Likewise, she cannot quite help the surprise that shows in her response. Cantarella doesn't even have the advantages of sitting behind a puppet.]
Some so affected can keep the erosion at bay for a time with the right tools, but if it's allowed to propagate suppreptitiously...everyone will be swept up beneath the wave. What recourse do those affected by this Tempering have?
[Why does it feel like an unfortunate rhyme, one where she already knows how the next line will go?]
You know what I will say next, or you at least have an idea, I’m certain.
[ Cantarella is smart enough to know what being taken over by fanaticism that cannot be dampened means. ]
They used to be killed in the name of mercy, hardly a real kindness to them. [ They don’t sound happy about that part. ] My comrades, however, developed a cure.
[Sage's voice may be altered by whatever spell they're using, but she hears her own for just a second. A question you already know the answer to. Why bother asking? Perhaps they are a little too similar in some ways. She can see their differences, too, at least, as her jaw tightens and her frills fan a bit.]
Hardly a kindness, but we'll have to disagree on the notion of mercy. In the Fisalia family, at least, we handle matters of our own. [There's no pride in her voice, but also no loathing.] I'd rather the last hand that lowers me into the waters be one that I know.
... And I'd even more rather ensure that it comes to an end. Your comrades' success will echo in on our own. [It's a little bit of a rail shift to get back to their situation at hand, but it may at least be obvious that things are not dissimilar.]
We will have to disagree. Our situations are rather different, after all. What is mercy when tempering occurs as a result of peoples feeling threatened by their own subjugators?
But I digress.
[ Cantarella's frills fan out, but Sage's tail flicks as calmly as ever. It seems like they genuinely don't mind this discussion, in spite of its potentially sharp edges. They're similar, but this? Their views and their reactions shine a light on their differences. ]
I'm certain that selfsame resolve of yours will see you through to a solution, though I would gladly offer my own insight as well.
It is quite different... My goal is that, within my lifetime, we too will be free.
[Her frills settle quickly, an indicator that the display was not necessarily anger but something much more raw, an exposed nerve. She's stared into that bottomless pit for too long, and she doesn't even need the encroaching dread or the seizing in her lungs to feel it also crushing in on her.]
I'd have to swear you to silence. [Lighter, now, but truthful.] Once you've gone far enough, you do not get to leave.
[It's such a fast answer that Cantarella's almost taken aback by it, her head tilting to the side in wonder. She can't imagine Sage hasn't at least considered the consequences.]
Aren't you concerned our current predicaments occupy enough of our focus? You're doing a great deal for strangers already.
There will yet be time after our current predicaments have resolved.
[ And Sage sounds very confident that they will, in fact, be resolved. But maybe that's not a surprise to Cantarella—they do, after all, seem the type who doesn't back down. ]
I do as I like, and I chase after what interests me. My interests oft happen to coincide with extending a hand to others, and what I can learn elsewhere could benefit my studies at home.
[Such an independent assertion keeps the smile on her face.]
I'm a bit surprised you're not in any rush to leave.
[Even despite the fact they must also want to return as soon as possible to disseminate any solution they've found... Coming here intentionally might have something to do with that lack of urgency.]
Then I'll continue to plumb the depths of your knowledge on curses...and if you've any insight on saving the divine or assimilation of consciousness, well, I'm all ears. A mirror will only ever reflect what looks into it.
[Sage must not believe their paths will permanently diverge at the end of this road, though it's difficult to tell whether they know something about the nature of separate "worlds" that Cantarella herself does not, or if they're speaking out of pride and confidence.]
There's really no stopping you. [It's faintly amused praise.] I'm in the middle of something important at the moment, so I can say the same. What a shame our paths didn't cross when we both had more time for leisure.
[ Maybe Sage is an optimist in their own way, in tandem with knowledge they have not disclosed. ]
'Tis a shame indeed, though we at least have some pockets of time now, as it were. Not every moment of our time must be dedicated to solving the mysteries of this realm. Though I am loathe to admit it, breaks are necessary.
Vigilance is an essential even in my day-to-day life. [what are breaks] A peaceful, quiet moment is an exquisite delicacy...so I shall let such moments melt away slowly on my tongue while I have them.
[It sounds more like a state of constant alarm or vigilance than a state of constant work, perhaps.]
There's no work getting done with a tired mind, anyway.
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While I'd rather not admit it, those cards delivered to you were accurate enough. However the information happened to get there. Mine does paint a portrait, doesn't it?
[Even if, without context, that portrait may be closer to the public perception of everything written there.]
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It does, but 'tis merely a portrait all the same. You are made of more than pen put to paper.
[ Tell them about those talents with your own words, Cantarella. ]
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A somewhat amused Cantarella will watch Sage's parkour, only intervening to politely offer to pour the tea, given that Sage is currently a foot tall. Will they be having some themself? She's happy to assist and clearly has some experience with etiquette.]
Then you must not be one to let rumors and stories inform what you think of a person, either...I can see it'll take a lot more than some gossip to stir you. [Tough crowd...no wonder they're so difficult to impress.] Some people prefer to do things their own way, walking a resolute path, and there are others who will pave a road where it otherwise seems impossible. I've always been the latter, as I prefer to find my own way out of situations.
All heads of the Fisalia family wear some lethal moniker or another...but as "The Bane," I just happen to be the most potent yet. You could say my interest in crafting poisons and potions is more of an obsession.
And I'd say I've a rather fashionable eye. [THOSE BOOTIES ARE GREAT.]
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Sage seems more than happy to let Cantrella take the wheel here, letting her pour some of the boiling water into her cup. But, they shake their head when she moves to pour in Sage's cup. Not yet. Can't have it steeping for too long, after all. ]
You are on the constant lookout for new knowledge of your craft, then, so that you may improve upon your talent and feed your obsession.
[ Just a theory of theirs. An impression. ]
As for your sense of sytle... it meets my expectations, though I had no doubt that it would.
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[I'M SO...SORRY...SAGE... Based on her playfulness, it might be a little hard to tell whether word of Sage's aversion to medusae is something she knows or not. It might also be easy to tell that it doesn't matter; she'd act the same either way. Beyond that...fashion is a lighter topic and will be easy to discuss when the tea is actually ready to drink.]
They also know few desires...but mine is liberation. Of dreams, of people...and perhaps even the ability to drink regular tea like this once more and serve it to an important visitor.
no subject
[ Idle words, delivered softly. It sounds like Sage really wouldn't mind sharing, at least.
Sage adjusts the tea bag in Cantarella's tea, ensuring that it's properly submerged. ]
You have lofty aspirations. [ The puppets head tilts up towards her. ] Yet you carry yourself in a way that leads me to think you have the resolve to see it through.
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[She watches them fuss with the teabag with some amusement. Sage is a surprisingly diligent host, after all, for someone who is also so stern.]
That'd be a far loftier ambition than my current desires. [She pauses, hand moving idly. As proudly and elegantly as she may hold herself, there's not a lot of ego there.] It's a very small thing, compared to what could be lost.
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[ Satisfied, Sage stops fussing with the tea and allows it to steep as the puppet plops down on the table.
Cantarella carries herself with a certain elegant air, it’s true, but there’s something down to earth underneath that nevertheless, isn’t there? ]
Yet the possibility of losing so much is what drives you, I presume. What is it, then, that you stand to lose?
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Cantarella rests her elbow on the table in front of her so she might cradle her chin in her hand, bringing her just slightly more in line with the figure's "eye" level.]
Why, my very world, of course.
[The simplest and most concise answer she could possibly give.]
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What fate has befallen your world?
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[She drums her fingers a little bit, pausing around the thought. There have been no whispers sice she arrived here; here dreams have been troubled, but not the dark and unescapable abyss that suffocates her. It's an odd place, being able to think clearly about it. Things are too tenuous for much more than this, and if she goes further there will have to be more trust still between them.]
The initial battle for control of Rinascita's "soul" concluded a long time ago, though many do not know its true nature. Levithan works to destroy civilization from within, corrupting its people and transforming them into mindless puppets of its gospel.
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Mindless puppets of gospel…
[ Said to themselves, but. ]
My mind immediately thinks of a similar concept on my star. Tempering. The inability to think of aught else but the primal you worship, caused by close contact with the primal in question.
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Some so affected can keep the erosion at bay for a time with the right tools, but if it's allowed to propagate suppreptitiously...everyone will be swept up beneath the wave. What recourse do those affected by this Tempering have?
[Why does it feel like an unfortunate rhyme, one where she already knows how the next line will go?]
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[ Cantarella is smart enough to know what being taken over by fanaticism that cannot be dampened means. ]
They used to be killed in the name of mercy, hardly a real kindness to them. [ They don’t sound happy about that part. ] My comrades, however, developed a cure.
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Hardly a kindness, but we'll have to disagree on the notion of mercy. In the Fisalia family, at least, we handle matters of our own. [There's no pride in her voice, but also no loathing.] I'd rather the last hand that lowers me into the waters be one that I know.
... And I'd even more rather ensure that it comes to an end. Your comrades' success will echo in on our own. [It's a little bit of a rail shift to get back to their situation at hand, but it may at least be obvious that things are not dissimilar.]
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But I digress.
[ Cantarella's frills fan out, but Sage's tail flicks as calmly as ever. It seems like they genuinely don't mind this discussion, in spite of its potentially sharp edges. They're similar, but this? Their views and their reactions shine a light on their differences. ]
I'm certain that selfsame resolve of yours will see you through to a solution, though I would gladly offer my own insight as well.
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[Her frills settle quickly, an indicator that the display was not necessarily anger but something much more raw, an exposed nerve. She's stared into that bottomless pit for too long, and she doesn't even need the encroaching dread or the seizing in her lungs to feel it also crushing in on her.]
I'd have to swear you to silence. [Lighter, now, but truthful.] Once you've gone far enough, you do not get to leave.
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Easy enough. Discretion is no difficult task for me, and you've captured my curiosity.
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Aren't you concerned our current predicaments occupy enough of our focus? You're doing a great deal for strangers already.
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[ And Sage sounds very confident that they will, in fact, be resolved. But maybe that's not a surprise to Cantarella—they do, after all, seem the type who doesn't back down. ]
I do as I like, and I chase after what interests me. My interests oft happen to coincide with extending a hand to others, and what I can learn elsewhere could benefit my studies at home.
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I'm a bit surprised you're not in any rush to leave.
[Even despite the fact they must also want to return as soon as possible to disseminate any solution they've found... Coming here intentionally might have something to do with that lack of urgency.]
Then I'll continue to plumb the depths of your knowledge on curses...and if you've any insight on saving the divine or assimilation of consciousness, well, I'm all ears. A mirror will only ever reflect what looks into it.
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I am in a rush, yet I have confidence that when I return that I will manage to resolve what I am able.
[ Not without help, but they know they can gather it. ]
Afterwards, I'm sure to have time to spare. In any case, I'm certain you have plenty of knowledge to spare in turn.
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There's really no stopping you. [It's faintly amused praise.] I'm in the middle of something important at the moment, so I can say the same. What a shame our paths didn't cross when we both had more time for leisure.
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'Tis a shame indeed, though we at least have some pockets of time now, as it were. Not every moment of our time must be dedicated to solving the mysteries of this realm. Though I am loathe to admit it, breaks are necessary.
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[It sounds more like a state of constant alarm or vigilance than a state of constant work, perhaps.]
There's no work getting done with a tired mind, anyway.
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