Who: Cian & Siri What: A trip to the shore, with unexpected benefits Where: Outside the Palings, not far from the Docks When: Backdated: shortly after this Rating: Cian has a potty mouth. Status: Complete
If Cian were the sort to spend much time contemplating stupid rumors -- the kind of rumors that didn’t lead to money -- he might have found the one about himself and the prophetess amusing. As usual, people were constantly jumping to all the wrong conclusions. Fortunately, he didn’t give half a flying fuck -- and frankly, he preferred that people talk about this fictitious relationship than the real one he was beginning to think was all in his head (give a woman a key, don’t hear from her for weeks).
In any case, the company of the prophetic mage was welcome, and he’d found the time to take her to the shore at her request -- he liked the crash of waves and the solitude, too. Pretty soon, people would start coming down here in droves, but not yet. For now, the water was still too cold and thus the stretch of sand was perfectly empty.
He landed the bike alongside a clump of rocks, a bit away from the water, lifted his passenger off. It was a windy day, and the surf seemed particularly strong. “Looks like the show’s all for us today.”
Siri, bless her insanity, was completely unaware of rumours; had she been sane she would have shied away, her noble upbringing reminding her of what ought not to be done. That was not the case, reality but a thin construct that was easy torn asunder by voices and monsters in her head. Exhilarated by the ride, she grasped briefly onto Cian as he helped her off, “Better this way, people look but they don’t really see.”
The waves were repetitive but unique, each one would have minuscule differences from the one that came after and the one after and after that. They looked the same, unless you were looking.
Leaving her shoes behind, she twined her fingers with Cian’s and tugged him impatiently towards the water; the air was cool and scented with salt.
"Well," he said with a shrug, "we've been in agreement from the start that most people are idiots. Just a restatement of the status quo, isn't it?"
He couldn't help but wonder, though, what she saw and heard as she pulled him towards the water. For him, the crash of waves was a memory -- just as the pearly glow of the Paling now behind them was no longer enough to bring fear (though always, a memory of pain), the ocean was once again just an ocean. He might have found the key to talking to the prophetess in her own peculiar language, but half the time, he was still striking out blindly in hopes that he was reading correctly. He could talk to her but not, in the end, think like her.
Water lapped over the scarred toes of his boots and her bare feet. "Better?" he asked.
His words made her smile, shaking her head fondly; Cian could understand more than others (far more) and that was why also her advice to him could be put to some use - it wouldn’t just be lost beneath the weight of her words (to be able to say what she meant in three phrases instead of six would be a blessing).
Siri released him and waded fearlessly into the water, knocked back now and then by the waves. Everything vibrated with energy, a language of its own, Siri felt it — silence and then the plunge. (The water was cold, dark and deep — like the woods). Was it better? Cupping her ears she waited for the sounds (just the water muffling the whispers). “Better.”
He wondered if she even felt the cold, or if it was the shock of cold that was helping. But she seemed less tense in her stature as she let the water wash over her, so while he kept an eye out -- just in case; currents could be sneaky -- he gave her her moment of partial solitude with the waves. Score one for him -- he hadn’t been sure this would work, but what else had there been to offer?
“We’ll stay awhile, then,” he said. And get her someplace warm after; she wasn’t of any use if she had pneumonia (and maybe he cared beyond that, too, but it was always easy to find an excuse). “You been having any more trouble with people playing hide and seek?” he asked in the meantime, thinking of the men he’d scared off at the dicks. The climate was still frankly shitty for mages, though she seemed to float through it in blissful ignorance -- or perhaps she simply had bigger concerns.
“No, no one playing hide and seek with me.” For some reason Siri navigated around without getting into trouble with hostile groups against mages; probably due to the same sixth sense that guided her into nightmares and vivid visions. She walked back and forth, water soaking her dress, fabric curled in the foam; it was fascinating to watch the patterns (for a moment she forgot everything but those images - twisted, meaningless - like her prophecies to most). “Are you playing hide and seek?” She lifted her gaze to his, a small smile (just for the World Serpent).
In a moment of two she would allow herself to submerge in the water allowing the cold to seep through properly; Kerwon was cold, the snow and forest (pines, pines, pines) that never changed colour beneath the cold.
“Only with secrets,” he said easily. “I’m always playing with them, since sometimes they hide pretty well. I’ll find them, in the end.” He’d find enough of them to suit his needs, anyway.
He watched as she dove under the doubtless frigid water, absently counted seconds. She emerged before he’d gotten to a number that worried him, hair slicked back and dress clinging to her body, more like some wild creature of the deep than a hume woman (he was rarely so fanciful, but it seemed to him that she would always straddle the line between humanity and otherness; it appeared to be in her nature). “Seems you’re friendlier with the water now. Seem to recall it giving you some trouble.”
She moved toward him, pushed and pulled by the waves as if his words were the coils of a snake that kept her from drifting beyond his reach. “It does not always flow as intended.” Siri dipped her hand and tried to lift a fistful of water only to fail miserably. “It does not obey, water is not like fire or ice.” Those elements she understood, she leaned back on — the licking flames of fire and the burning sheets of ice.
“Can you make it flow?” Siri stopped in front of him, waiting for an answer - a yes or no, or something else entirely.
“Can’t make it, but the way I see it, it’s flowing already,” he said, watching the edge of another wave come, tug at the hem of her soaked dress, go. “Just let it. Better around you than through you, I figure,” he added, thinking of her head dipped under, as though by breathing in the water she can make it behave to her specifications.
A light went on somewhere in the jumble of her mind and she perked up, skin and water and salt — waves lapping around them not through. “Can’t swallow it to make it mine.” Siri turned away once more and skipped deeper into the sea until the water was well above her thighs.
Plunging her hands in, she mouthed the spell, urging the water to obey (not inside, around, not inside, around) and it rose, away from her and upwards before it exploded into nothing. Water was an element to bring life, but in her hands it would always destroy; Peony’s lessons to help by watering seedlings would have never worked.
Break, break, break — every single drop to drown and smoother. Siri only needed to have it go around instead.
He watched, impressed despite himself as the artificial wave rose, exploded into nothing but droplets and mist. “Seems plenty obedient to me,” he called out.
Pleased with herself she returned once more to Cian’s side, this time intruding on his personal space to throw her arms around him. “Obedient now because of you.” She muttered lifting up to kiss the corner of his mouth chastely.
He was a little surprised, he had to admit, but in the end, he settled for patting her head, letting her soak the front of his shirt and pants with seawater. “I have that effect on people. Apparently now on oceans, too. Who knew?” He settled an arm around her shoulders, directing her towards where her cloak and shoes waited. “Come on,” he said. “you don’t want to celebrate with pneumonia. Let’s get you home.”