When Tasha and Goldie reach the castle, one of them feels overdressed. Everyone but Jonas is there, along with the dragons, Pheeny, Whisper and even Rainbow. And they're all naked. Katie is currently framing a shot with all of the Humans. Kai is in the middle, with an arm around Yue and other around Sharon, who is struggling with Katie's direction of "Look Sexier! Pout!" Gabriel spots Tasha first and waves her over.
Tasha starts undressing after moving the little dragon on to her head, but even then, there are limits to how much she can do around a small dragon.
"Hold my dragon," Tasha tells Gabriel as she walks up, smiling a tired, wounded smile that tells him she's been busier and harder-wrought than she'd let on. It's in the smell, the way she carries herself, and in her eyes, too.
But at least she's undressing.
"You look like you need a long nap and a shower," Gabriel says, and tries to comb Tasha's hair with his free hand, Goldie held under the other. "Katie will throw a fit."
The dragon is handed over. "I had a shower," Tasha insists, she does smell clean-ish at least. And little tiny dragon, and perhaps like Kai and the Astraea. "And I technically took a long nap. As for Katie, I'm only mildly afraid of her."
"Only mildly?" Gabriel asks. "Aaron described that painting to her and her eyes lit up."
"Uuuugh," goes Tasha with unmitigated regret. "That picture will haunt me forever, won't it? And only mildly. Sometimes, I lie about stuff, even if I hate it. I blame Humans, Kai, and professionalism." She then holds her hands out again. "Dragon, please."
Goldie is handed back over, and immediately clings to Tasha. "You only need to worry if she manages to convince one of the dragons to be a couch," Gabriel says.
"Tasha!" Katie calls out. "We've been waiting for you! I want to get all of you into a picture."
Tasha corrals the little dragon in to her arms, gently hugging her; she reminds her of Galatea and better times, with little dragons. "It seems I've been discovered. Escape while you can, I'll cover your retreat."
Gabriel gets a tired kiss, then Tasha is walking on over. "Yeees Katie? You want all of me?" She shyly ducks her head over the little dragon in her arms.
Katie ushers Tasha over next to Vasha and Sasha, then runs after Sharon before she can escape. "You look you've had fun," Sasha remarks to Tasha. "Does this have anything to do with the splitting headaches and sense of existential terror we all felt earlier?"
"Oh you felt that..? I thought you might." Tasha gives Sasha a kiss on the muzzle, too, or tries to -- just to be obnoxious. "I was busy, you know how I get sometimes. It's alllll part of the wonderful world we get to love and enjoy."
Tasha does stand where directed though, dragon hugged in her arms. "I see you all have no more resistance to Katie than I do."
"We tried hiding behind dragons too," Vasha says. "It didn't work. I want to hold her now!" She holds her arms out for Goldie.
Tasha looks down at Goldie, looks up at Vasha, then looks down again. "Hmm," goes she, before she carefully holds the dragon out without disturbing her too much, to see if she will transfer on her own.
The mini-dragon does transfer, and starts chewing on one of Vasha's talons. This.. does not bother Vasha. "She likes chewing on things," she notes. "At not trying to nurse though!"
Sharon finally joins them. "Alright!" Katie says. "Now.. stand shoulder to shoulder and try to cover up eachother's naughty parts for this first one. I guess it's okay to use the dragon for that too."
"I mean, who doesn't?" Tasha remarks, quite reasonably she thinks. With the dragon handed over, Tasha is free to smooth her hair and fur down. "So you should all know I'm dealing with something rough by now. And it's lingering, and it's going to become a problem sooner or later, a reoccurring problem. Kai will instruct you on how to handle it, but you may need to take over for me for a while when I'm... indisposed."
"And this won't effect us too while you're indisposed?" Sasha asks, while trying to position himself to use his tail to cover Sharon's hips and trying to figure out what to do with his hands.
"Kai's vanished already," Sharon says, looking around. "She showed up for that one photo and then disappeared."
"I don't know yet," Tasha admits. Then, she adds, "I reabsorbed my Black Marker, and I remember." Tasha then also looks around, but is unsurprised. "She'll be back in a little while, and she's available if we need her."
"That's what that was?" Sharon asks, wide-eyed. "I thought I was about to die!"
"Okay, this is going nowhere," Katie says, coming over. "All of you hold Sharon so she's horizontal and blocking your hips."
"This is because I'm the smallest, isn't it?" Sharon sighs.
"About to die-ing was part of it," Tasha admits. her expression is apologetic, but vaguely, almost mask-like. Her eyes are likewise tired but focused, and there's something else there that's harder to spot, a kind of hardness that she'd largely suppressed, that now seems omnipresent.
When the order comes in Tasha breaks off whatever she was going to add, moving in to position. "We all have our strengths and weaknesses, Tiny Sharon."
It takes some work, and Katie tucking boobs behind arms, strategic placement of tails and convincing Sharon to smile, but the photo is taken. "This will definitely get into the Templar Calendar," Katie notes.
"Lieutenant Frane is going to talk to me when I get back," Tasha says with a sigh, ears wilting. But, then she realizes something. "Katie, aren't you supposed to be on vacation, or a sabbatical? Do the people back home know you're out here with us?"
"That's classified, and I'm not in any of the photos," Katie claims, even though she's also naked. "Now.. Gabriel, Sasha and Aaron.. time for butt-shots!"
"Sometimes forget she has a whole media production company," Vasha says, after helping Sharon to her feet. "Remember how fast 'Silver Spear versus Lightning Dragon' came out?"
"Classified..?" Tasha is pretty sure she's on top of all classification these days, or has she been nudged out of command and internal information? "Have I been ejected from command," she whispers aside to Sasha. Then she nods to Vasha. "Scary. And I remember. I have some of the original copies in my room." And then she blinks. "And the Winged Gift collection. Gods, I think I'm more dragon than dragonslayer now. That's going to be awkward for production, isn't it?"
"She'll make you pose with the dragon, and with Gabriel," Sharon says. "Just be glad she didn't listen to Liza's suggestions. She's small and cute but has a filthy mind.." The woman then blushes remembering the whole body-swap incident.
"We don't know what she told the Expedition," Vasha notes. "Or if Mr. Invention is really in charge or her mission. Lacci and Shojo really missing out today."
Hakeber comes over to join the girls. "Where were you off to, Tasha?" she asks, and scratches her neck. "Katie wanted to tie me to a post and have Kobolds dancing around me."
Tasha doesn't blush nor does she look guilty; in fact she grins with the shit-eating grin of someone remembering a really good time. "I certainly didn't help that trend," she admits fully. To the next, she nods. "I have no idea, maybe she's here to keep an eye on us, like Yue, under the guise of some other task. The same with Mressa. Where is Mressa? Is she still hiding from the incident?"
"She's resting in the shade," Hakeber says. "Katie hasn't called her up yet."
"Probably going to be used in the throne room shots," Vasha guesses.
"Figures, we get stuck outside. No prioritization for her girlfriend. Boohoo." Tasha does not look terribly boo-hoo, however. "Well, I want a shot with Gwyndrael, and all three of the dragons and our little dragon, so I'm going over there." Tasha then pats Sharon's head. "You were a fine bunny."
"What?" Sharon asks, distracted by the three men posing now, and flexing their butts for Katie.
The three dragons lying nearby, looking like a group of big, scaly swans as they watch all of the activity. Whisper is playing at directing the Kobolds into different poses, with Pheeny next to her. She doesn't have a tablet or camera or anything though.
Tasha beams at the children as she walks by, not wanting to let how she feels bleed out to them and detract from their good time. She walks on, and then arrives at the dragons, putting hands to hips and looking up at them all. "So, how are things?"
"Well, that depends on which things you mean," Gwyndrael says. "I mean, you are a thing." She then starts trying to lick Tasha's hair into shape.
Tasha does nothing to stop this process. "I am, aren't I?" She does however reach up to try and rub Gwyndrael's head, of course. "I guess we're all things, in the end. Do I seem notably different to you, then?"
"Your aura has shifted," Gwyndrael notes. "Also, you have a small dragon with you."
"I guess I'm not surprised, I have so many new colors, now, and the rest-" Tasha blinks, looking around. "I do? But Vasha had..." She looks down.
Goldie is there at Tasha's feet, looking back up at her with a 'you left me behind!' sad-face.
"Awwwww," goes Tasha, who immediately lowers down to the ground and holds her arms out. "I'll make it up to you later by feeding you sausages," Tasha promises. She'l also be feeding herself sausages, but this is a given, though it might make the offer suspiciously self serving. "I'm sorry."
Goldie clambers up Tasha so she can perch atop her head. "It's very small," Gwyndrael notes. "It smells a bit like your clones too."
"It's just a little dragon, a remote to help Galatea recover. But I like her, she's more than just a tool." Tasha turns to face the much larger woman. "I believe she was made in a similar fashion, but with Pheeny's help."
"So Galatea lives," Gwyndrael says, somewhat solemnly. "It seemed.. uncertain.. to us. And honestly disquieting." The dragon signs, and shifts her prosthetic wing. "I am hardly one to excuse that sort of attitude though."
Tasha nods, careful to not dislodge the dragon on her head too much. "She does, though in what state of recovery I can't say for certain. The near-death experience was especially traumatic for her, given its similarity to events in the past. I had been communing with her for a while. And before that, well ... " The red woman hadn't had as much time to consider her meeting with Tatha'hem given her immediate departure to aid Galatea, but now she does have the time, and admits, "I think I spoke with the Maelstrom, too. That's about when I incorporated the alien Colors. And I understand Tatha'hem more." She scratches her left cheek thoughtfully. "As for the uncertainty, I agree. It was disturbing. I had only spoken to her a moment before it all happened. I don't blame myself, it would have been a good way to die, but still." She frowns for a moment, then asks, "Not one for being disturbed?"
"I'm.. I saw a lot of dragons die in the war," Gwyndrael admits. "Fighting against real monsters, and then a god." She twitches her prosthetics again. "I survived by inches. I don't have trauma over it anymore. It's been a thousand years after all."
"I think I understand. I haven't been around for a thousand years, but I've seen myself die, and injury and death aren't what they once were. There's a familiarity and comfort in pain, even as it reminds me of my limits." Tasha walks over to sit against Gwyndrael, leaning in to her. "I didn't survive, of course. But there's something different in seeing someone else almost die. One of my people. Someone I gave a big speech to. I wonder, often enough, if establishing a family to fight was a mistake."
"What else would you have to fight for then?" Gwyndrael asks. "I fought for selfish reasons. But that's normal for a dragon. I imagine fighting for your family is also selfish, but natural. It also means you have faith in the future."
"That's a good point, I hadn't thought of it that way. I'll modify my sentiment then: I fear losing people. I'm used to losing myself, and to pain, but there was something terrible in seeing Galatea broken apart like a fractured Titan. It took a lot of what I had to stay in charge and maintain a focus." Tasha reaches up to pet the dragon on her head, stroking from head all the way down to tail. "And I fight for them, but I have my own reasons, too, I've realized. Bloodlust. A love of fighting. A love of exploration and seeing new things. A desire to make a difference -- and have interesting things. And, because I can't fit in elsewhere. Without a cause I'm just a traveling murderer with an eye for helping. Sometimes."
"An adventurer," Gwyndrael summarizes. "But one with a house. That makes a difference, you know. It means you have stuff to loot."
"Going to loot my stuff, or are you my stuff, now?" Tasha's muzzle creases in a grin. Then she sobers a bit. "I hope I can maintain. My talk with Galatea came with a price, something I needed to see returned to me, for her sake if not my own. I'm not sure if recovering it was a mistake, or not, but helping her was worth it. Kai thinks it'll kill me if I leave it unchecked, though. We're working on that. Maybe you, too, need a place to rage and tear in to others, where you can go unseen, far from a world you might hurt in your rage?"
"I'm a lawyer, Tasha," Gwyndrael points out. "I can afford to go to the high-end destructo-rama clubs."
Tasha lays a hand on her chest, in mock-shock of her tresspass. "I had no idea my lady. Well," she drops the act in a heartbeat, "I know you're a lawyer, but not that there are high-end destruct-o-rama clubs. I suppose such a thing is necessary for dragon communities, especially with smaller beings around." She taps her nose. "But we're building our own. Our own little hell, made from mine."
"Will it have castles?" Gwyndrael asks. "Castles and fine china."
"It'll probably be a hellish landscape of twisted black crystals, fire, and monstrosity, within a black diamond floating in the void beneath this realm," Tasha relates, "It's not a day spa."
"That sounds a bit like a spa," Gwyndrael claims.
She then asks, "Will Samael be there?"
"A dragon spa," Tasha says with a laugh. Then the laugh abruptly stops as she goes from amused to seriousness in a flash. "I'm not sure that's wise. The purpose is to put our pain, misery, and violence to some greater purpose, for recovery. His master is decidedly the opposite of recovery-minded. I don't want that place to feed him. It should feed us."
"So, a place to purge our urge, so to speak?" Gwyndrael asks. "Or a place to suffer?"
"Both," Tasha answers, ears flicking. "Speaking to Galatea made it clear to me how often our kind seek to punish themselves for real or perceived transgressions, failures, unwanted urges, shame, and guilt. We waste so much energy attacking ourselves -- so why not attack ourselves in a way that matters? To use the suffering productively, all the expelled energy, and walk out a little clearer?" She rubs her hands together, as if trying to remove something that had dirtied them. "And sometimes it's just nice to hurt yourself. " Her smile's a little sad. "And each other. I'm sure we can learn a lot by laying in to each other without restraint. It'll be excellent practice."
"I can see the appeal," the dragon admits. "Extreme immersion therapy, of a sort."
"I thought you might," Tasha says with a less burdened smile. "All of us who have been in the field for a while have it, especially those who are older, or, like me, have had an intensity of leadership -- in the follow while I push onward sense -- and experience. To say nothing of entities like Kainudy, Galatea, and even Gabriel. We all hate ourselves, some part, sometimes all, and many of us are also prone to collapse, isolation, or rampage."
"You rampage?" Gwyndrael asks, looking surprised. "Even with all the sex?"
"Semi-regularly," Tasha admits with a much more amused grin. "When Kainudy's tragedy paradise came under attack I think I murdered several companies of elves. Usually my rampages are a lot smaller, though. But, judging from Kai's reaction -- and her exuberant excitement -- things are about to get rather worse for me if I don't manage them." She taps her nose. "She thinks I'm the type to rampage -- and she'd be the kind of being to know.
"I suppose it's healthier than just having regularly scheduled nervous breakdowns," Gwyndrael says. "Sometimes it's hard to fit them into your schedule."
"It really is, the last time I had a nervous breakdown everyone ended up filled with demon and looked like they all wanted to die -- and resent me for it still." Tasha grimaces. "And to be frank, some of us are afraid of letting go, fighting, and they want to be punished but nothing they do to themselves will ever be enough, because they're the ones doing it. They want connection. But they'll reject everyone because they reject themselves, in most situations. So they cannot truly forgive themselves no matter how much they try, cannot trust others to punish them, can't believe their forgiveness. Something more is needed. I intend to find out what that is."
"Even Liza?" Gwyndrael asks. "I can see everyone else having issues. Your clones have the same issues you do, except for Sasha, who has different issues from how his aura tilts. But he shouldn't go to your special spa, because of his anti-meme."
"Liza? Well, this place is intended for our more senior, more exotic members, primarily. Galatea and myself. Kainudy, if we need to literally drag her to hell. Your kind, but I feel like all three of you have found your own methods of coping, and of going beyond. Kai will be participating, of course, because she's Kai and frankly I don't think I could stop her anyway." Then Tasha spreads her hands. "For the others, I'm not sure they need to go so far -- or would benefit from such an extreme hellish reality. It's really a place for immortals and quasi-immortals, for those of us outside of society, intentionally or otherwise. And," she quirks a brow, "you'll have to explain that bit about Sasha."
"A place made of bad memories could activate his ability, and erase itself," Gwyndrael explains. "He needs to be shielded from you going there too. I noticed how they all reacted recently."
"Ah... Yes." Tasha nods her head to the warning, holding the dragon on it in place. "I had feared that might happen, but there wasn't time or a way to warn everyone. I was probably thinking at a breakneck pace, for one, and I needed to interact immediately. Communing with Galatea came with serious risks, and it's only thanks to Kai I am even still alive. So, we'll make sure that place is shielded. It should be warded and guarded as well, to keep us from escaping, to keep our emotions and auras inside, and to prevent unwanted visitors -- the kids, too, need to kept out."
"Wards are easy enough to set up," Gwyndrael says. "Wormwood should be able to create strong ones, and Thermoriax can add blessings. About keeping entrants from escaping though.. how would they get out then?"
"That's a good question, one I haven't figured out yet. Kai plans to throw me in there if I look like I'm about to rampage, so maybe she has some thoughts and might be about to appear next to us and ask me for the Marker." And then Tasha reaches out to the side where she can't see, that is, partly behind her twisted back, to see if it makes contact with Kai.
Of course, Kai already took the marker from Tasha, so doesn't have a reason to appear. Goldie makes a raspberry noise though with her tongue. Kai never appears when you expect her to though.
"Bah, I should just reach out and not have mentioned it. Or thought about it. And she already took it. I am tired," Tasha complains as she slides down against Gwyndrael, as if the effort sucked out the last of her energy. "Maybe Kai has it all handled. She seemed especially excited. I think I'm her pet project."
"Well, she was assigned to look after you, wasn't she?" the dragon asks, resting her head in Tasha's lap. "But she does seem to have a sadistic streak. More than a typical dragon, her's is nearly Human."
"Yes, she was. Kainudy's dark emotions all bundled up in to a Human-interface humonculus, who used to be for talking to Humans, and then she became something... else." Tasha rests her own head on Gwyndrael's gently stroking both dragons with her hands. "I guess you could say Kai is an insight in to Kainudy. It's funny, she tried to hard to hide who she was and to never give an inch, now, with her gone and gone again, it's her dark incarnation that's become the public face. I suppose we all face who we are sooner or later. I got to see who I am. But, at least it doesn't seem to be less than anyone else. It was hard seeing the limits of mortality and of my own beliefs and promises."
"We all have our limits," Gwyndrael rumbles. "And pushing beyond them comes at a cost. Especially if it becomes a constant event. Things break without maintenance. I'm acutely aware of that since I received magi-mechanical prosthetics."
"I have become much more aware of it lately, seeing what broke me makes it hard to ignore the fact, and death has made me a little less suicidal. Maybe it's all important, for me to see these things." Tasha then kisses Gwyndrael on her forehead, for no other reason than she wants to. "At least I've learned enough to see insight in to our collective suffering and try and do something about it. I've also received power and change. I plan to meditate more, to grow my flame, and to help repair and smooth out the tangles. Ever since I held the Phoenix within me, my Flame has become known to me."
"Just remember not to use yourself up using them," Gwyndrael rumbles. "Discover your rate of replenishment."
"I plan to try and find my limit, I don't think I'll be coming back if I use up my Flame. Though, it may be different from a mortal Flame, it's as you say: mortal in its limited energies." Tasha stretches, then lays herself back down again. "Perhaps I should figure out ways to use it without expending it. Kai says my rage and my pain are a kind of weapon, and something strange was happening to me when I was interacting with Galatea. Maybe it's my dragon heart interacting with my power and my suffering. I think Galatea saw something familiar in that."
"Suffering is a personal thing, and is hard to share," Gwyndrael says. "Though now I am curious as to what happened between you."
"I visited her memories, though a emotionally charged, cerebral illusion it was not. The memory was real enough, and likely as deadly as the day it happened. Galatea lost her world, you see. The last to escape, and perhaps the only survivor. She took the remaining power and departed to save herself, and she's felt the guilt and the powerlessness ever since." Tasha resumes petting the dragons; maybe it comforts them, and she knows it comforts her. "I'm connected to her, you see -- in fact you can see the physical changes. So I could connect to her systems, and ultimately, her mind. Her near-death during the Phoenix's resurrection reminded her of those burning skies, and, therefore, her pain and failings. Though, 'reminded' is a bit of misnomer, because she never forgets anything. But she does focus elsewhere."
Tasha's head shakes. "I tried to reason with her, but the Marker was eating me alive, and with all her rejections and counters, I began to lose control and started to -- quite literally -- beat it in to her skull that people care about her -- I care about her. And the more it all ate at me and the more frustrated I got, the more I began to become something else. But she came around. There's no ignoring someone taking your pain away and dying in front of you, just to help you feel better. I knew it'd take more than some cheap words and empty comisseration. Well intentioned but ficticious promises of love... Dismissals of guilt... Abandonment of blame. I realized there's a place beyond that, in sympathy. And I think I was able to reach her finally through unrelenting and brutal honesty."
"Honesty is a sharp thing to an immortal," Gwyndrael says. "I have a good memory, but not so good that I literally relive them. I've forgotten a lot of things, just because they didn't seem relevant. Probably centuries worth. Your mind needs regular maintenance as well. It's why we sleep. The dragons that stay awake for weeks or years are the ones you have to watch out for. The same for the ones who sleep for decades at a time. The older you get, the more you fall back on memories of the past, instead of making new ones."
"Dealing with the memories of immortals and their past has become my third greatest duty, it seems. Fight the true darkness, explore, and save the immortals. No one else has tried, or even volunteered to help me in this. It's something, it seems, only I can do. So I do it." Tasha then gives Gwyndrael a hug. "And I learn something about myself along the way. That may be good, given how I'm developing. Maybe you've seen the rift between the other mortals and myself. They all know, on some level, I'm a bit like 'them'. And I have a certain distance."
"Is it them, or is it you distancing yourself?" Gwyndrael has to ask. "During the recent incident with your minds being swapped, did you get that sense of distance or of unity?"
"No... " Gwyndrael can feel Tasha slump a bit at the admission. "Maybe it is me, then."
"Then it is your choice if you want to distance yourself or not," Gwyndrael notes. "Perhaps because you didn't want to risk them, or wanted potential loss to be of lesser impact."
Tasha nods slowly against Gwyndrael's head. "I was worried, I think. Worried they'd see the monster I hide when I fight alone. Worried they'd all leave me if they thought I was slipping, falling apart, or becoming something terrible. And the thing is, I am a monster. A lot of us are. But everyone's looked to me to guide them, to be a bright star and a beacon. What happens, then, if I'm not? And worse, if I hurt anyone. Maybe it was just easier to step away. Like with Mariel. Maybe I could work it all out, I thought, but if I stayed away I knew she'd be safe without a doubt."
"Are you sure they have that image of you?" Gwyndrael asks. "Or could they be here to support you as well? Shouldn't you support Mariel? Who is Mariel, by the way?"
"I'm unfortunately bad at understanding how others see me. I make up for it by doing grandiose things: big gestures of saving people, fighting creatures, and so on, because I know those things are impressive. But when it comes to the subtle nuance of support, especially the kind we've built, I'm not very good at it. I spent most of my early life traveling on ships, you see, and not making anyone I'd call a friend like I have now. So I'm unused to community that's not shipboard and purpose-driven." Tasha then pulls out her datapad and shows Gwyndrael a picture of Mariel and her award. "Mariel. My first real friend. Not a mentor, not a lover, a friend. We were both people surrounded by overachievers. She wasn't as you see her now; she was a ghost. It was our efforts that allowed her to live again. It's one of the things I'm most proud of in my life."
"If you are proud of it, why pull away from the result?" the dragon asks. "Doesn't that send the message that.. you are not proud of it, or of her?"
"I wanted to protect her from what I am and the dangerous around me, to not draw them to her or make her a weapon to use against me, and to give her peace. I am not peaceful," Tasha explains. But she nods. "I'd been worried she'd seen things that way for a while. That's why I finally decided to send her these pictures. Speaking of which... " Tasha aims her datapad at her, Gwyndrael, and Goldie. Two dragons and a pseudo-dragon slash universal being, all cuddled up together, resting on each other. She notates it, "Gwyndrael, Goldie, Tasha; three dragons enjoying each other's company -- Hi Mariel, we were talking about you." Click. "There."
"You brought me along," Gwyndrael notes. "I am a dangerous, powerful monster. But you trust me, I think. Would you not want me to meet young Mariel because of what I can be?"
"That's an obnoxiously poignant and extreme difficult to evade point," Tasha agrees after a moment of inner squirming. "What can I say to it other than I conceed? You win, lawyer-dragon." She then picks up her datapad, points it at hr own face, which rests between Goldie's and Gwyndrael's, and hits record.
"Hi, Mariel. I'm sorry for being quiet all this time. I didn't understand how I felt about something: I was worried I'd bring my problems to your door step. That'd you'd be afraid of me. The silver dragon." she pats Gwyndrael's head, "has explained in excruciating logic how wrong I am. So, I'm sorry. And I want you to know I'm very proud of you. I'll come visit when I can. I promise." She hesitates for a second, thinks on what else to add, and then says, "I love you. You're my first, best friend. Goldie moves you, too. Right Goldie?" And she holds up the datapad to the little dragon.
The little dragon blows a raspberry, which seems to be an expression of endearment in her limited set of expressions. Then she tries to lick the tablet.
"You should promise her a ride on a dragon if she comes to here too," Gwyndrael suggests. "She looks shy, but we can fix that."
Tasha lets the dragon lick the tablet, which she thinks is funny and suspects Mariel will too. Then the tablet gets taken back to be cleaned, though, lacking clothing or a towel, Tasha just sues her fur. "Are you sure? She seemed hesitant to engage in, uh, my style of living. But you're older than me, are you sure?"
"She's young, and full of wonder," Gwyndrael suggests. "Whatever bound or limited her in her old life is gone, isn't it?"
"I don't know. We haven't spoken, but she seems happy. We can try." Tasha rubrubrubs her datapad until it's mostly free of dragon slobber, and then aims it at Gwyndrael and herself, so both faces can be seen. "And if you visit, you can ride the dragons, Mariel! Like this dragon: Gwyndrael! She's a silver dragon, and she comes from a city filled with dragons!" Tasha considers adding "and she's a lawyer" but lawyer feels distinctly anti-exciting for a child, so she leaves that out. "She's the old compatriot of my mentor -- who is also a dragon -- and she's very nice. Oh, and I'm a dragon too -- remind Nora of that all the time! I'll hug Gwyn because I can't hug you right now." And the dragon gets hugged and then the feed cuts out.
"Make it your goal to ensure Mariel does not face the pressures that made her feel inadequate before," Gwyndrael suggests. "It will be good for both of you."
"Now there's a challenge. Well, I didn't say 'I expect great things from you' or 'I know you can live up to your potential', so I dodged that bullet." Tasha heaves a sigh. "What made her feel inadequate before were Human expectations and familial rejection. She was simultaneously 'too good' for her family, they being considered 'lesser' Karnors, wolf-people, and not 'good enough' to be a member of the Karnor Elite, the top-grade Karnors. Gabriel is a Karnor Elite, for example. Four thousand of our years ago, he came with a fleet of ships to my world, and Mariel in her living form was with them, included because as a 'lesser' Karnor she naturally rounded out the crew, or so Karnor-theory went. She's struggled with that space ever sense. And for a while, so did I."
"Is she part of a crew now, or just a child?" Gwyndrael asks. "That award.. I couldn't read it but I assume she is a student?"
"She's a student at the Winged Citadel, owned by the Knights Templar, a paramilitary peace keeping organization. It's also a base where we often dock when we're back on the home worlds. The two worlds, Sinai and Abaddon, are where some of us, including me, come from. Katie and Hake are from Abaddon, and Liza, Aaron and I are from Sinai," Tasha explains.
"Are you? I mean the current you," Gwyndrael says, and licks Tasha's nose. "Where was current Tasha born?"
Despite herself Tasha giggles, then has to scramble to make sure Goldie doesn't topple off her head and give her a sad look, which she isn't sure her heart can take again in the same day. Once she recovers, while rubbing her nose, she admits, "I don't know, honestly. Sometimes I feel like I'm from there. Sometimes I don't recognize myself. Other times I feel like two people in the same body. I know I'm different now, but it's never clear how. Well. The current Tasha was born after the previous version of Sharron was born, which happened after I died: I was born on Charon, what we call Waymakers, enormous godlike entities that vaguely resemble whales. Charon's mother recreated me, and her name is Persephone. She even gave me a piece of her Flame, to make up for what I lost." And then she smiles. "I know she's proud of me, or at least the part of her within me is."
"The Bird of Hermes," Gwyndrael says. "Destruction, Purification, Self Knowledge. I think you've been through Destruction and Purification, so are you now in the Self Knowledge stage?"
"How did you know..?" Tasha's brows rise, spreading apart. "Uh, well, I am sitting here reflecting on self knowledge, and I spent the earlier part of my day reflecting on a ineffable beings relation to myself, that before I consumed my own hell to see the truth so I could use it to help me understand Galatea's suffering."
"I've talked to Kai," Gwyndrael admits. "And I have some familiarity with alchemy and the Philosopher's Stone."
"I suspect there was some sort of alchemy involved in her creation," the dragon says. "It's one thing that she doesn't know the details of."
"Oh." That does answer 'that' for Tasha. "I, well, I've also been part of an alchemical ritual of unknown purpose and provenance, for quite some time, at least for me. It started when I found my Titan, and was part of its activation sequence, but then it just kept... appearing. And people would insist on it. Like a title, or a role. Even if they'd never met each other, so many different beings would feel it had some relevance, some part in my existence, my future. It was just thought to be a flowery reference for Khattans who like pomp, and yet it keeps reoccurring. Even after I died."
"It has relevance to your mentor as well," the dragon notes. "It relates to how she became immortal, and also to her struggles with her own power."
"I see, so the mystery grows another chain, all to unknown ends and purpose," Tasha reviews, had bobbing while she holds her little dragon in place. "I wonder what it all means. Did she ever find the answer? Did she achieve the goal of the poem?"
"She embodies it, I think," Gwyndrael says. "And it may be your path. The difference is that you chose it, and she did not."
"Because of her creator? Dianarood. We've met, twice now in fact." Tasha scratches her nose. "I'm not sure chose is quite right for me, stumbled in to and continued by also stumbling may be more accurate."
"It is quite the thing to stumble into," Gwyndrael notes with a bit of wryness. "Daniarood created others before Kainudy, I learned. Some became gods, some died, but they all broke free from her control. So her solution was to strengthen her control the next time, rather than see herself as the problem."
"That bodes ominous, should I be worried? Is that what the poem is about?" Tasha lays her head back on Gwyndrael's, folding her arms and resting her muzzle atop them. "And the poem came with the Titan. It was added by a Khattan mystical society, who sought out the Way. The Way was created by the Waymakers, or rather, Kainudy and her war effort, but others dwell there as well: Atum, who is a composite being, and emissary from the universe filled, of, and sentient Vril, a kind of orange flame essence that 'is what they know'. Horus and to an extent Thoth are made of the stuff, as was Even and many others, and they created many of the sentient beings currently occupying this corner of our universe. Er, the one I come from, not this one. The Khattans sought to reach Atum, and I think they believed self refinement was the key."
"The first step is degradation, the second purification, and the third self knowledge," Gwyndrael recites. "The end goal is immortality. 'Vril' sounds like the embodiment of the third step."
"The Vril aren't perfect god beings, however. The Waymakers think they lack something, and the Vril'ya look up to the Waymakers as having something they want. Vril itself is a kind of knowing-essence. A sorcerer I met described it as 'the power of the cosmos', but didn't elaborate, and he was not trustworthy." Tasha rubs her nose again, thinking. "Then to achieve immortality, I'd have to achieve Vril. The sorcerer and his brother, both ancient Humans, but Humans as created by Eve and not Daniarood, possess this power, but like Kainudy had it forced upon them. Most of those who recieved it died, I know of only one living Human with it, and one lost Human, who apparently met Daniarood. A golden man. And they came from a place called Hyperborea. The two brothers fought, and the one I met was driven to the moon of the Dreamlands."
"Power of the cosmos sounds mysterious and grand," Gwyndrael nods. "Very.. mythic. Appropriate for such beings I suppose. It's important to always obscure knowledge like that, and never give a straight answer."
"That's what I figured, he wanted to overawe me, to make me think he was much greater than he was. Yet I've met the Vril'ya, and while I've never seen them use their powers, and I know they're fearsome, I'm used to being intimidated by greater beings. I gave him due caution and respect and then I left." Tasha then shakes her head a little. "Somehow, though, he's alive, which strongly suggests he can make more Vril, which is something the Vril'ya cannot do in this universe, and perhaps their own, as well. Yet Mafdet was able to absorb the artificial soul copy of the creator of my Titan. Perhaps there's a connection between a soul and Vril. It's a mystery Thoth had been seeking an answer for, too: how to create Vril. And Thoth knows Kainudy. And Kainudy forwarded him to others in return for knowledge in turn. There's an answer somewhere in all of this, at the bottom of the rabbit hole."