[ The weather is well-suited for tea, that's for certain. Sage sends a message in return, telling Cantarella to meet them in the sitting room and that she doesn't need to bring her own tea.
There is, after all, plenty available.
The puppet is there, set on one of the tables, but it remains lifeless. ]
[It takes time, or at least it feels like it, to make it to the sitting room. The walk was minutes yesterday, half a day the second time. This time...She feels she might have fallen asleep on the way. Hopefully, Sage does not feel they've been stood up, because otherwise, Cantarella acting like she won't be fleeced by the still puppet will be embarrassing for her.
By this time Tuesday, Cantarella has already been to the sitting room a few times, but as she waits by the inanimate puppet, she looks over the small collection of shoes. Perhaps...Well, she won't do anything as unhinged as examine them closely, but she is looking for a specific pair.]
Perhaps I misjudged your color by a small margin. [It will also be embarrassing if these are Lobelia's shoes, but she's guessing with confidence.]
Cantarella turns to face Sage's puppeteer, laying her hand to her chest and dips slightly in greeting. That Sage is the only person she's seen who still has furry ears, she politely keeps that observation to herself, even though she does notice it when she looks up to meet the other woman's eyes.]
It's always a great honor to see a gift enjoyed by the recipient.
You're holding out on us. [Despite the tease, Cantarella knows how much can be conveyed by sharing a particular drink or a meal, depending on its origin.]
If there's one small benefit to our circumstances, it's being able to drink what I want. For once, I can savor every exquisite drop.
[ Y'shtola walks towards the little cart, getting to work on organizing what's needed for the tea as the water already in the kettle comes to a boil. ]
Your circumstances don't allow you to? Must you truly be so careful at home?
For quite some time, I've been exclusively drinking the Velvet Dream I developed to keep nightmares at bay. My sense of taste has...developed strangely.
[Experiencing regular food here has in fact been somewhat novel.]
Because of my Forte, my tongue is often restless. [It traces her lower lip subconsciously as she speaks about it.] The potion has highly effective sedative and analgesic properties.
Somewhat. Because of the lack of detectable frequencies here...or perhaps because I've lost the ability to interact with them at all...much of the irritation is gone. Food has regained some of its natural taste, though I won't be putting any of my usual "seasonings" on anything any time soon.
[hot girl tummy problems was enough for her to learn.]
My sleep had also improved until recently. I should be grateful for such gifts when they come, shouldn't I?
It's accompanied by some... unfortunate side effects.
[She gestures toward the balcony area of the sitting room, beyond which sits the [setting.]]
And by being brought here. Which is not a slight against my present company, here or elsewhere in the realm. I'm treating my summons as an opportunity in disguise. Very, very disguised.
I'm sorry to say I sometimes long for a peaceful, quiet little life in the open air under the sun. My idea of a reprieve might be a bit more relaxing.
[This...might be?...the greatest difference between them of all. Not that she doesn't enjoy stimulating her mind, but there is something in Cantarella that yearns for stillness and sunshine, even know that sun will only shine for a brief while.]
Yet if this is another threat to be kept at bay so it doesn't drown Rinascita, anything I can do to dam it here is worth the stay.
[ She smiles, just a little, as she pours hot water over the tea in both of their cups. ]
More of your resolve.
[ That is something they share, but their biggest difference truly lies in the way they (metaphorically) see things. ]
Your idea of a reprieve is certainly different to my own. [ She hums, soft. ] Uncovering a great, ancient mystery would be my own. One that is not life-threatening or requires quick study, of course.
It's hardly so rigorous, but there are centuries of ancient tomes and records of the Fisalia family housed in the depths beneath Porto-Veno. I find many of them impenetrable and have never been able to decipher their true relevance or meaning.
[Read: This will be important in later patches, so we need an Evil Horse reason for her to not be able to interpret them right now.]
...But they would likely fail to measure up to any of your standards. [Also read: She's no intention of putting this intellectually curious cat woman's life at risk.] Perhaps once they can be safely archived.
Yet you intrigue me nevertheless. Ancient tomes and records on a star I have never been to, tucked away in the depths and unable to be safely archived...
You're not going to stop until you stick your nose into something dangerous.
[It's not really a question; Cantarella says it with a little more edge than that. It might even be a warning, implicitly lurking like a shadow beneath the shoreline that will catch a ship off guard.]
What is it that they say about curiosity? [She is, in the end, going to have to touch on the cat ears.]
[Maybe it's just that Sage is completely unhesitating in this. She doesn't flinch at all, even when Cantarella has already dangled perhaps a little more than should be safe of the Fisalia's dark and myriad secrets. Cantarella looks at her again, like she's trying to read something that never stirs.]
And yet you would need a guide if you wanted to plunge into the depths, no matter what is driving your curiosity. But you should never follow a stranger to such places.
[Though the way Cantarella says it, mulling and flat, already establishes that she doesn't feel that way and isn't about to spend the time singing and dancing her way through pretending they are. There's a hollow shadow at the back of her mind that wonders if the uncanny familiarity of the world around them has forced them closer than they should be, or if she has simply opened a door.]
[ Ah, that's right. She adopted the moniker of "Sage" and had left it at that. She really did grow too used to using an alternate name back on the First that it's left her with terrible habits. ]
[Of course, as she has when being introduced to any of the researchers once they meet again in person, Cantarella gives her a polite curtsey.]
That's better. Might as well conduct things in the proper order. Cantarella Fisalia, Matriarch of Porto-Veno Castle... and your future guide within its walls, should you ever choose to visit.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
w2, tuesday afternoon
There is, after all, plenty available.
The puppet is there, set on one of the tables, but it remains lifeless. ]
HELP you added the second shitpost
By this time Tuesday, Cantarella has already been to the sitting room a few times, but as she waits by the inanimate puppet, she looks over the small collection of shoes. Perhaps...Well, she won't do anything as unhinged as examine them closely, but she is looking for a specific pair.]
Perhaps I misjudged your color by a small margin. [It will also be embarrassing if these are Lobelia's shoes, but she's guessing with confidence.]
I SURE DID
And as she's looking, heeled footsteps sound on the stone floor, coming to a stop behind her. A soft, yet recognizably stern, voice rings out. ]
Yet they were tasteful enough to occupy a space in my collection nevertheless.
freaking kity...
[She's even more confident in her choice now.
Cantarella turns to face Sage's puppeteer, laying her hand to her chest and dips slightly in greeting. That Sage is the only person she's seen who still has furry ears, she politely keeps that observation to herself, even though she does notice it when she looks up to meet the other woman's eyes.]
It's always a great honor to see a gift enjoyed by the recipient.
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It is. Which is why I hope you enjoy the tea I've prepared this time. I have more on offer here than the cafeteria, after all.
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If there's one small benefit to our circumstances, it's being able to drink what I want. For once, I can savor every exquisite drop.
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Your circumstances don't allow you to? Must you truly be so careful at home?
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[Experiencing regular food here has in fact been somewhat novel.]
Because of my Forte, my tongue is often restless. [It traces her lower lip subconsciously as she speaks about it.] The potion has highly effective sedative and analgesic properties.
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Restless you say... do warm drinks ease it somewhat?
[ And how bad must those nightmares be, if she's always drinking that potion? ]
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[hot girl tummy problems was enough for her to learn.]
My sleep had also improved until recently. I should be grateful for such gifts when they come, shouldn't I?
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[ Being able to enjoy food again and being able to finally attain some rest… what more could someone want?
But… ]
Are you, though?
[ Having to ask means there are some conflicting feelings there, after all. ]
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[She gestures toward the balcony area of the sitting room, beyond which sits the [setting.]]
And by being brought here. Which is not a slight against my present company, here or elsewhere in the realm. I'm treating my summons as an opportunity in disguise. Very, very disguised.
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[ Have to look at the bright side of things, after all. ]
Or... a reprieve from the goings on of home, though I imagine this does not make for much of a reprieve.
[ The storms, the pain, the transformations... all of it is chaotic. ]
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[This...might be?...the greatest difference between them of all. Not that she doesn't enjoy stimulating her mind, but there is something in Cantarella that yearns for stillness and sunshine, even know that sun will only shine for a brief while.]
Yet if this is another threat to be kept at bay so it doesn't drown Rinascita, anything I can do to dam it here is worth the stay.
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More of your resolve.
[ That is something they share, but their biggest difference truly lies in the way they (metaphorically) see things. ]
Your idea of a reprieve is certainly different to my own. [ She hums, soft. ] Uncovering a great, ancient mystery would be my own. One that is not life-threatening or requires quick study, of course.
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[Read: This will be important in later patches, so we need an Evil Horse reason for her to not be able to interpret them right now.]
...But they would likely fail to measure up to any of your standards. [Also read: She's no intention of putting this intellectually curious cat woman's life at risk.] Perhaps once they can be safely archived.
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[ Liiiike..... she's very into the idea. ]
I daresay I should like to uncover their secrets.
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[It's not really a question; Cantarella says it with a little more edge than that. It might even be a warning, implicitly lurking like a shadow beneath the shoreline that will catch a ship off guard.]
What is it that they say about curiosity? [She is, in the end, going to have to touch on the cat ears.]
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Oh, a similar thing they say about nine lives, I presume.
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And yet you would need a guide if you wanted to plunge into the depths, no matter what is driving your curiosity. But you should never follow a stranger to such places.
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Is this your way of offering to guide me?
[ After all, they aren't strangers. ]
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[Though the way Cantarella says it, mulling and flat, already establishes that she doesn't feel that way and isn't about to spend the time singing and dancing her way through pretending they are. There's a hollow shadow at the back of her mind that wonders if the uncanny familiarity of the world around them has forced them closer than they should be, or if she has simply opened a door.]
But I haven't had the pleasure of introductions.
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Y'shtola Rhul.
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That's better. Might as well conduct things in the proper order. Cantarella Fisalia, Matriarch of Porto-Veno Castle... and your future guide within its walls, should you ever choose to visit.
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I daresay you know well that I will, Matriarch.
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i was gonna say something evil about exarch but i have censored myself from all evil cat comments
i can say something heinous about him in your stead
yeah rake that cat over the goals
he's ..............
you can't bring yourself to do it
I fear what I will say