bombshelled | Vestige inbox

[ Lana just has trouble with things getting Too Sentimental™. The instinct to flee as far and as fast as she can washes over her and she can't help but bail. ]

Sure! I'm not really a prayer kind of girl, but I do love me a good tree nook.

[ She gives her a happy grin. ]

That is most wonderful. I think you shall like it, or at least I hope so. It will be nice to share something lovely of this place.

[ Everyone spoke in such misery here, and it was not for no reason, but that she could make others happy? ]

[ The grin earns a similarly happy expression from Lana. Sure, she doesn't actually give two shits about some tree bullshit, but it's not like she has anywhere better she can go, and Gilia seems so happy to share it; it's infectious. ]

Yeah? Can't wait to see it then! Lead the way.

[ It is only a little longer, along the slow walk about the lake. Until they come to the tree Gilia had found so pleasant. A grand older thing, twisting branches heavy with the fall of autumn leaves. Perhaps not so grand, not so remarkable, but to her she finds it pleasant. In front of them is the lake. Still, without the wind and vibrations of the day, it is glass-like in reflection of the forest that surrounds it.

And she finds it alive. Not some stagnant place, as she comes closer and lays her hand on the bark as if she were greeting an old friend. Then turns back to Lana with a polite nod. ]

I will pray now, you could join me if you like?

[ It really is... dramatic, as far as trees go. There's some kind of radiant quality about it that Lana isn't sure how to quantify. She's never been impressed by a tree before, but this comes close to making it.

She's pulled out of her silent musings on the beauty of the tree when Gilia turns to address her. Straightening suddenly, feeling a little flustered, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and waves a hand. ]

You can go ahead. I don't really... have anything to pray about.

[ She's never prayed. Not even when her grandmother would drag her to temple on the high holy days. Religion-- faith in some kind of higher power-- it's just not Lana's thing. She determines her own fate. No one is guiding her steps; the only one looking out for her is herself. She accepted a long time ago that she would have to make her own luck in life.

But she smiles, and steps back to wait quietly while Gilia does her prayers, accepting that faith means something to some people that Lana will never quite understand. ]

[ She will never quite understand it. But she doesn't need too. Each person's relationship with their spirit was their own. ]

I have many things to pray on. But I shall begin with your health today.

[ Her eyes crinkle at the edges, a polite tease, even if no one will ever believe it.

Then she settles, clearing the spot of dirt so she could fold her knees under her. Sitting with her hand's palm upright, arms extended that little in front of her, as the water begins to trickle upwards to her from a little phial at her side. The two trickles become two streams, one for each hand, and form to a orb. Spinning itself in orbit.

Then she opens her mouth, and begins to sing. Each a perfect and clear note. Sung, hung in the ear in a clear vibration that comes with a strange, deeper echo. Of waves, a deep and churning sea. Tumbling, crushing, like the sea itself surrounded them. But it is threatening, it holds no malice, as it washes in the area, it is like a cool drink on a hot day. It offers relief, that sinking feeling of swimming and feeling weightless. But like an old and dear friend, holds you steady in the current, supports and buoys you.

It offers, for a moment, a respite from all the world's loneliness and troubles. ]

[ Lana doesn't know what she's expecting. Probably not "baruch atah adonai eloheinu melech ha'olam." She's not dumb enough to think the prayer itself will be anything she's heard before. But there's a part of her that expects something standard. How'd that famous one go? "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned?"

This... isn't that.

Her first clue that this is going to be something different than what she's used to is the water, slipping up to circulate in Gilia's palm. Lana's eyes widen slightly, as her mind spins. Is Gilia a mutant? She probably wouldn't have the same word for it, even if she were. But this is definitely something Not Normal.

The feeling crashes into Lana like a wave at Coney Island. Only not as cold and garbage-strewn. It feels... nice, in a way Lana isn't sure she deserves to be privy to. Like she's stumbled on something secret, something not meant for her to see.

She keeps quiet (for once), listening to Gilia's sung words, eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly open. ]

[ It follows verse and refrain, each note hanging like a bell, carried out and out before it dies at last. A quality which doubles back on itself. Like she sings herself almost it's own choir, if in but an echo of the sounds that come before.

When the song is done, the last of the notes fading into the early morning light, she lifts the water in her palms to press together and plays with it a moment, turning it from circle to ribbon, to the little shape of the sea dragon that was her family's sigil. Cradling it between her palms and leans as softly as she ever did her siblings and her parents, to kiss the top of its delicate head. ]

Carry my heart to my family, so that they know I love them, for all days and all nights here and after. [ And with her soft whisper finished, she turns her head up to Lana - like nothing at all was out of the ordinary. ] Would you like to send a wish, too?

[ O-oh. Lana hadn't expected to be included in Gilia's prayers. No one had prayed for her (to her knowledge) since her grandmother died. And even back then, when her grandmother would include Lana in her prayers, it was always in a, "won't somebody help this child find her rightful path," but not in the sense of wanting to help Lana grow and become her own person. In the sense of wanting to control and correct her, and stop her from living the dangerous life she knew she wanted.

Lana's smile for Gilia then is soft, touched, truly, to the heart. ]

Uh, y-yeah. [ She isn't sure how this is supposed to go. Does she talk to the water dragon thing, or to Gilia? ] I guess... Tell Miles I'm alright.

[ She doesn't have a family to carry her heart to, anymore. Once upon a time she would have sent a prayer message to her mom, but... The Lori Baumgartner in her new universe wasn't the same. Or rather, she was exactly the same as she used to be, back when she was convincing Lana that robbing banks was a perfect mother-daughter activity and lifestyle. She hadn't learned any of the lessons her old universe mom had. She wasn't the same mom who had comforted Lana through Poey's death, through the ordeal with the Serpent Skulls. All the new Lori Baumgartner cared about was getting back in the crime game, whether her daughter joined her or not.

So, no. It's just Miles that Lana wants to send a wish to. Miles is the only one back home who has her back. He's all she has left in the whole universe. Jess is gone. Kitty's different, so are Tandy and Ty. It's just her and Miles, now. ]

[ She leans in and whispers it, as seriously as she has ever done her own. ]

Take care of Lana's Miles. Let him know she is cared for and loved.

[ The little sea creature swims off then, as she sends it away. Diving in a splash and disappearing into one more part of the lake once it dives below the surface.

Her prayer finished, she rises up. ] There we go, all done. I just need to refill my phial.

[ The more time they spend together, the more Lana realizes that there's a sweetness to Gilia. The sort of bright, hopeful sweetness that you don't exactly find often on Lana's world. Every so often, you'll find a cheerful optimist. Miles' friend Kamala was like that. But there was a hard edge to Kamala, too. She could fight battles and kick ass when she needed to.

Lana wonders if Gilia has an edge like that, too. ]

Alright, cool. I'll just wait here.

[ She walks to the water's edge, and that too - another song. But where the first one had been a pure high note, this one is something deep, a tremble at the lower pitch. Her hands curving, twisting at the water's edge as if she were pulling a rope up from the water's itself. A ship's mooring line that had to drawn up with an anchor.

That another ribbon of water follows it. Bringing it up and up so she has the same amount of water she had sent away into it. That ripples not with the wind or the movement, but in time with the echoes of Gilia's voice itself. Before she feeds it back into the water's phial at her side.

And like that, it is done. She clears her throat, as if to swallow all of it down again. The strangeness. The oddness. Before she turns back to Lana. ]

I am finished now. Is there anything else you'd like to do?

[ It's fascinating to watch, Gilia manipulating the water like that. Lana's seen a lot of weird shit, but she's never seen something like this before. Gilia must be some kind of mutant, Lana figures. Or something similar. Inhuman, maybe, like Kamala? But she won't even bother bringing up either of those terms, because Gilia probably has never heard them before and the only thing that will achieve is Lana offending her. Which she doesn't want to do, she realizes, because she's starting to think of Gilia as a friend. And fuck knows, she could use a friend here. ]

Uh... Let's just... keep walking?

[ She's still kind of stunned by the whole water display. After they've stepped a few yards away from the lake's edge, Lana will broach the subject. ]

So, have you always been able to do that? With the water, I mean.

[ Gilia nods, pressing her lips together a moment as she gets her water back to her control and shakes herself a little to settle back to a form, for a second, a little more settled. ]

Yes. I have always. That is the gift of someone from an established family. My parents gave me to the Sea-Father when I was three days old, and I have been this way always.

[ Okay. Lana's trying to give Gilia the benefit of the doubt and not say that that all sounds culty as fuck. ]

So, this Sea-Father. Is he like... your god?

Yes, I suppose you could think of it like that.

[ Why do people always think nobility and magic are like cults.......

.... wait don't answer that. ]

[ Stop acting culty and people will stop thinking you're in a cult! ]

Well, how would you describe it, then?

[There is something like teasing in her face as oh so mildly she responds:] A Father. The Father of the Sea. A Sea-Father, if you prefer.

[ No, she's definitely smiling.] But more technically he is what we call a Great Spirit. There are many kinds, you see. There are spirits for rocks and bushes and fields. Expressions of the world all around us. Some change and grow, become bigger or smaller with time.

... A Great Spirit is the core of something. They are usually old, very old. The Sea-Father is the beginning of all life. The very depths of the Sea, where there is no light, no plants, nothing but the creatures that evolved in the very beginning before life as we know it. He is the essence of those depths, and all that live in it.

[ Yeah... Most of that goes over Lana's head. But she definitely gets the gist that it's something sort of spiritual, or at least worship-based. ]

Are there other Great Spirits, besides the Sea-Father?

Yes. There are the Shadow Dragons, the Fire-Consort, and the Western Mountains.

[ Whoops. Lana can't help but laugh a bit. ]

What the ever loving fuck is a Shadow Dragon? That sounds like some shit from a nerd book ike Lord of the Rings or something.

[ For once, Gilia frowns, a little - well. ]

Please do not speak of them in such a way, they are one of the most revered spirits. We go on long pilgrimage to see them and to see their flight at dawn and dusk.

Right, sorry...

[ She stifles the laughter and clears her throat, trying to take things more seriously. ]

So, like... Are they legit actually dragons? Like with wings and scales and sharp teeth and shit?

[ She is mollified enough by the apology, to continue it seems, and there she nods, carrying on. ]

Yes, that is them. There are three of them.

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