futurology | video | username; sieglindesullivan

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video | username; sieglindesullivan

Ahem.

[The video reveals a rather proper looking young girl (ignore the old blood stains on her dress), sat in front of a rather impressive sprawl of vials, jars, and herbs.]

I am Sieglinde Sullivan, and though I have made some of your acquaintances, there are far more of you than one can expect me to know- so please consider this my formal introduction.

[She pauses, until. Yes, that's right, no one could reply yet.]

My true purpose in contacting you all is to find out who among you is capable of healing, whether that be in the scientific or magical sense. I am aware of some of you, but I could use some assistance in the production of potions and salves if there are any among you competent with such things.

Even someone unskilled could be of use if you are willing to learn and have a steady hand.

I would also appreciate the chance to speak more leisurely with those who may have knowledge of healing methods different from those of my own.

I await your contact with pleasure.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Sieglinde has only recently taken a sort of crash course in manners, and though it lasts her to seeing Kida to her seat, letting her take the first bite... It doesn't last any longer. In a rather miraculous amount of time Sieglinde has her own scone in her mouth- practically the whole thing. It's a chewing battle, but she gets it down, and the remainder vanishes into her mouth before her guest even sets her plate down.

- She might be a bit peckish. And not afraid of speaking with her mouth full.]

It is quite a long tale... One told to us by the great Greek philosopher, Plato.

[A few crumbs remained on her mouth, but she wiped them away with a last gulp of food.]

Do you know the gods of the Greeks? Those who dwelt on Mt. Olympus?

[She said it was a long story, but that was purely for the benefit of her listener. Sieglinde's memory was near photographic, and anything she'd read was barely an effort to recall in its entirety, whether it be the lasted scientific tests, her predecessor's notes, fairy tales, or Ancient Greek philosophy.]

[ She watches, amused, as Sieglinde stuffs the entire scone into her mouth, before offering the remainder of her own: a growing girl must have more of an appetite, of course. ]

I do not know a Plato. But I do know of some of the Hellenistic gods. Zeus, Hera, Athena—

[ Despite herself, she's already beginning to sag a bit. The people of Athena were past her time--unless this Plato was using them as stand-ins for greater, more ancient beings. ]

[Sieglinde will just. Take that scone. Thanks. Her manners extend to offering guests refreshments and food, but if they then chose not to eat it... Well, that would be just a waste, so.

She at least proceeds a bit further into the story this time, though, before stuffing her face with it.]

It was said that at some point the gods divided up the land, and the island that would be called Atlantis was given to Poseidon, lots of the sea. In turn, he set his son by Cleito, daughter of a man sprung from the earth itself, as the ruler of the island, and that man's name was Atlas. His many brothers served him as governors over the vast island, and he ruled the land as king.

[It wasn't a story she ever thought to need recite, but Sieglinde's gaze turns slightly upwards, slightly distant, recalling words on old parchment pages in a well tanned bind.]

The island was vast and prosperous, with rich lands and a rich people, but some thousands of years before the narration of the text it was written their hubris grew and they warred with those who lived on the land, conquering them and enslaving their people. The Greek city of Athens formed an allience to counter them, and in the end stood alone against the forces of Atlantis.

However, losing the favor of the gods for their actions, there occurred a great tragedy wherein the earth swallowed up men, land, sea, and the city of Atlantis itself, which was never seen again by the likes of mortal men.

[- only then does she stick the scone she'd received in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully as she looked towards Kida. Was it the same history she knew? Or different, as the world's of ALASTAIR's recruits tended to be...]

[ Kida would have considered it a waste as well, so she's happy to watch Sieglinde enjoy herself. That is, until Sieglinde's eyes become distant and unfocused, remembering some once-read information. Kida listens intently.

She remembers...how much does she remember? From the world above? She'd been so small, barely a few centuries old. Atlanteans age as normal humans do while they are babies, and their aging slows and slows and slows so quickly that by the time they are able to speak they are a few decades old. Their brains are as unripe as any human child's, however; Kida can't recall much from that distant part of her past. She remembers pale streets lit by the sun. She remembers grass, trees, fruit, mist and rain. She does not know if Atlantis was vast, if it had provinces or towns big enough to require their own governors. But it isn't out of the question. She knows her people's history is ancient and that they used to be great--older citizens have told her as much. But her father preserves the lion's share of the knowledge, and he refuses to share it.

Was this what he was keeping from her, then? War? That Atlantis doomed itself?

For a long time after Sieglinde finishes her tale, Kida sits in silence, mulling over it all. If war is the missing piece, certainly, other things make more sense: her father's reticence, his shame, his insistence that the people were safe and content underground.

He was wrong. They were human. They needed the sun, and the wind, and the sky over their heads. They needed it and deserved it. ]

Sieglinde...thank you. For sharing this. [ After she realizes she's been silent for a stretch, she offers an apologetic smile. ] Forgive me, my thoughts run deep. My people's history is a mystery to me, and I want--I want so badly to know. To understand.

[ Realizing she's speaking to a child, capable though she may be, Kida makes a bit of a face of annoyance at herself. Surely, she's sunk to new lows of desperation. ] I am sorry to have bothered you like this.

[For all that she was a child, Sieglinde had been raised to be one who paid attention- one who memorized and formulated, who picked up on the subtle things others could miss and applied them to her work. That was science- magic- it was her formulas, though, and less her patients, even less the people that comprised the rest of her world. But though she may be without certainty on exactly what was going through Kida's mind in those moments of silence...

She knew enough not to disturb them.

She waited, and listened, fingers rearranging her skirts and the back of her mind occupied chasing memories, sorting through the immeasurable texts she had read in her short life, through alchemical formulas, children's stories, and academic tomes. Was there anything else she could say? More details to add?]

It is not a bother in the slightest.

[But she could assure that much, even if her own smile grew slightly strained in the process. To know. To understand. She herself had always longed for those things...]

I also know something of this desire. ... Though I know now, I still cannot understand.

[Why her own mother would do to her what she apparently had. Why she had been coaxed into creating the "ultimate magic". Why her feet had been broken.]

I never thought to compare my village to Atlantis, but.

[Perhaps their desires on that regard were the same as well. To know why they must be isolated. To long for a glimpse of that outside world.]

[ Kida is suffused with emotion at Sieglinde's small, strained smile. No child should life with the crush of ignorance so great, she thinks. She wants to reach out, reach over, but stops herself. She's a relative stranger, after all, it wouldn't be appropriate.

Her hands twine together in her lap. ]

Tell me about it--your village.

[ Kida is a naturally curious person, of course, and in all their previous interactions she's never got the chance to ask much of Sieglinde about herself. She doesn't even know how old the girl is. ]

Anwick was my first sight of the surface world. So I have little experience to draw from.

[ It's an invitation to spare no details. ]

[Anwick was not Sieglinde's first look at the world outside the Werewolves' Forest, but only by mere margins. She has seen the forests outside her own village only in the dark, on an open train car clutching her wounded manservant for dear life. She has seen the manor of a man she was told was named Dietrich. But then she was here- or, there. Anwick. Now Odette.

It's a strange world... The outside.]

Wolfsschlucht is-

[She hasn't talked about it. Almost not at all, since she's arrived. Not only because it was painful, but because as she'd said... There was so much she didn't understand. It sometimes felt like she would just wake up back in the Green Manor, and it would all have been a strange, strange dream.

But each passing "day" tells her it will not be so.]

... I am not sure whether to tell you of what I believed it was, or what it truly was.

[Admitted, in a voice a bit too small.]

[ Kida leans forward, her elbows on her knees, considering. And then gently, she slides her open hands into the space between them, palms up, an invitation for Sieglinde to take them. ]

Whichever you tell me will be the truth, and I will listen.

[ 'Home' is a difficult thing to name. Most importantly, she realizes with sharp clarity that this is what Atlantis is perhaps doomed to become to her: what it is at war with what I believe it to be.

Please, let it never be so. ]

[What was she to do with those hands?

Treated as a lord, a savior in training, Sieglinde has been polarizingly treated both as a pampered heir and the wisest of adults throughout her lifetime- and within that frame there had been little room for the affections of family, friends, or other children. What it was to play with others she did not know... And though she had received her share of comfort in the past upon taking tumbles each time her feet were further shaped and her balance changed, when she'd had bad dreams or fallen ill...

She doesn't know much about this sort of warmth. Not from a servant, but from someone who offered it willingly, without duty or demand. So she hesitates, unsure, not wanting to misinterpret or show weakness... But slowly, her hands slide over Kida's, palm to palm. Small, pale, with fingernails slightly bit down, a healing scrape on one hand and ink stains on the fingers of the other.

It was warm.]

They told me Wolfsschlucht was the last safe haven for our kind... For witches, after the trials and the persecution visited upon us by those who did not understand magic. It was surrounded by the dark wood... Protected by the werewolves. And I was the Green Witch- I had the most power remaining in my bloodline, and it was my responsibility... To protect the villagers and honor my ancestors pact with the werewolves to create a spell for them that would produce enough miasma to enable them to live despite the encroachment of humans.

[Though she started slow, she warned up to it, her gaze locked on their hands rather than Kida's face. If she told it like a story, it was less painful. A little less real.]

The women all worked very hard... To support the village and our way of life. And myself. There were no men besides Wolfram- he was my manservant. But the werewolves grew restless after generations without a solution to their problem, and the women were growing scared. There were attacks when a group of outsiders made it to the village... And the village elder told me that the werewolves were angry. But I managed to do it- complete the ultimate magic. And I thought maybe then I could see the outside world... Just for a little while.

[She hadn't actually meant to say that much- but that was what happened when you bottled everything up, wasn't it. It all just came spilling out to the next sympathetic ear, until she managed to stop herself, fingers curling slightly in a mix of shame and embarrassment, a desire to hide what she viewed as immaturity.]

... That is the lie part.

[ This is heavy, what Sieglinde is confiding. It's all right; Kidagakash has strong shoulders, strong hands. Sieglinde's are small, and Kida runs her thumbs over the smooth tops of her knuckles. Her eyes are downcast while she listens.

She can see the image of the place in her mind: a forest, dotted with houses not unlike those of Anwick. Fires in the night, foreign chanting, ritual. Kida has never met a wolf or a were-wolf, but her imagination supplies images of snapping white teeth.

And I thought maybe then I could see the outside world... Just for a little while. Kida's lips thin. She knows that want.

She can't understand the situation but she understands the weight viscerally, knows the heavy cloak of pressure and expectation. Kida has had eight thousand years to get used to wearing it, to adopt it. She admires Sieglinde for not being crushed. ]

If you do not wish to speak of it, do not force yourself.

[ It's said gently enough. Sloughing off the weight is a difficult task, and all the shame that comes with it. Kida has had very few people to speak to about her experiences, and she doesn't want Sieglinde to overwhelm herself. ]

[She hadn't realized it would be so heavy as this when it was only words. The memories weighed her down, cast a shadow over her heart ever since the night she'd gone with her visitors from the outside world beneath the bowels of her manor. Ever since that woman had told her the "truth".

It was difficult to believe- even though it was the truth.

It's not that I cannot speak of it. I just...

[Didn't quite know how. But if she never tried...]

It wasn't true at all. The village, or the Green Witch, or the ultimate magic or the werewolves.

[How had she been so naive? Even though part of her knew it couldn't have been her fault... She still blamed herself. Couldn't quite understand how she could have been so blind. Her expression grew troubled, lip trembling slightly but holding back on tears or hysterics.]

My mother planned all of it. An "education project" to make sure I finished the work she and my father started. That's all it was.

[They were terms said like foreign words- "mother", "father". She'd grown up thinking both dead, thinking her mother the previous Green Witch, only to find she was the village elder all along, watching over her and forcing her down the path she'd wanted. Sieglinde could formulate scientific compounds of the highest order, decipher sigils and codes and complex problems...

But she couldn't figure out why her life had been a lie. Why a "mother" would do that to her. Why her fingers had curled tighter against Kida's hands.]

[ Just hearing it stings, like the cringe you can't stop when you anticipate a balloon bursting, or a rubber band snapping. The crash of that betrayal, and from so trusted a source...Kida can't imagine the pain of it. Or at least, she can--but it's too painful to dwell on.

Gently, gently, her fingers curl around Sieglinge's, offering comfort. ]

Oh, Sieglinde. That must have been terrible to discover.

[ Her voice is warm, tender, like an elder sibling--like a friend. It's honest sympathy. Tabtop, she thinks, would you lie to me?

She has both of Sieglinde's hands clasped in hers now, her expression mournful. ]

You have been very brave.

[ She doesn't encourage the girl not to cry--sometimes, she knows, crying is what the heart needs. ]

[This is what comfort feels like. It's not the first time and not the last, but it's the first time for this hurt, for this wound, one left to fester when she'd been ripped from her world into Anwick and then on to this one, forcing herself to put that frantic escape from her village behind, the shattering realization that her entire life had been an elaborately constructed lie...

That she'd almost chosen death over acceptance of that fact.

Her vision narrows, and she feels a hot stinging in the corner of her eyes that she fights as valiantly as she can, shaking her head even as some of her fingers curl around one of Kida's. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, they should return to talk of the other woman's home, to Atlantis, to-]

Not by myself. My visitors from the outside worlds are the ones who discovered it all, and- Wolfram, I thought he betrayed me but he didn't, he came back for me-

[And the price he potentially paid is seared into her mind's eye, the one that kept her sleeping at night or woke her in a fit of sweats, how his face looked when they'd shot him, when he'd fallen on the tracks.]

I couldn't do any of it alone-

[And that's the root of it, isn't it, the fear that had taken root in the back of her head that hadn't been there before. That despite how independent she liked to pretend to be... It might never be a reality.

Not like the few plops of fat tears that finally escaped and rolled down her cheeks to fall onto her sleeves.]

[ That was what it always came back to, wasn't it? Independence. But more than that: autonomy. Sieglinde's mangled feet may as well have been ball and chain each.

Sieglinde's face reddens and wrinkles, until her pain escapes her in hiccuping gobs. Kida isn't naturally inclined to nurture, but she won't stand to see pain without acting on it. ]

Come here, little one.

[ Any reserved she'd had previously melt away with the first stinging-hot tears coursing down the child's face, and so she bridges the space between them, her arms wrapping around Sieglinde's shoulders, bringing the girl to rest against her front, head tucked into the crook of her neck.

She says nothing after that: what can she offer? This isn't a hurt that will heal with words, or even with deeds. Only time and connection are strong enough to heal a wound that bleeds the soul, and Kida is well aware of how little time Sieglinde has had, and will have. But connection--she can provide that.

Gently, her fingers comb through the girl's dark hair as she holds her. ]

[This isn't how it was supposed to happen. They would discuss Atlantis- Sieglinde would perhaps learn things about the ancient (to her) city, and Kida would perhaps learn of some of the outside elements that may have led to its sinking beneath the waves. At least, as the stories told them. Perhaps that would lead to a different topic of interest, or they ought discuss the issue of the sun and darkness enveloping the land...

And if they were to discuss her own past she would have been stronger, and she wasn't supposed to cry.

But now she's started and instead of being rebuked, reminded of her position as the Green Witch, her need to be strong for the villagers... She's given a place to cry. A warm, comforting place, without any sense that she ought to be ashamed for feeling like the child she technically was but hadn't really been allowed to be.

A few more moments were spent in futile effort to hold back the floodwaters, but a single crack destroys a dam, and her hands find some sort of longing purchase in the back of Kida's clothing, clinging as she began to cry in earnest with her face pressed into the other woman's shoulder. For everything more than any one thing- for Wolfram, and the lie her life had been, and the chaos of this place, the blood and the injuries from the riot, the chance she might never see "home" again, the shame of being unable to control herself better.

The ache that came from knowing she could have known comfort like this- from a mother, or sister- but had not.

But like a summer squall, she would soon exhaust herself of tears, drained to sniffling instead, to efforts to compose herself before she could lift her head with a minimum of self rebuke.]

[ She hadn't expected Sieglinde to react so strongly to her offer of talking about her village, but in retrospect, it was a good thing--Kida didn't need to be a healer to know that a festering wound needed to be drained. She lets Sieglinde cry herself out: it's all there is to do, after all. If her tunic gets a bit wet, it will have been a small price to pay. Sieglinde's knowledge of Atlantis would not depart her mind in an hour a day; Kida could question her more later. For now...

Sieglinde's sobs eventually slow and calm like a storm breaking. The ocean stills, the tide recedes. Kida's smile remains. ]

There now. [ She pats the crown of the girl's head once before pulling away. Her front feels cool when the room's air hits the wet patch against her collarbone. ] Tell me where the herbs for the salve are--I will gather them while you gather yourself, and then you shall teach me your method. Are we agreed?

[ Her tone is gentle, but firm. Sadness should be acknowledged and allowed, and then moved past, not wallowed in. ]

[No one has ever told her in words or deed that it was alright to cry- that it was better, in fact, sometimes, to simply let the emotion out. Hints of tears or upset were met with gentle reminders of her rank and status, firmer rebukes if needed to halt the waterworks. What would the villagers think? You are the Green Witch, my lady-

It leaves her feeling ashamed even though she feels weirdly relieved. A confusing cocktail of emotions for one so young, but she had and would have to handle such. So she collected herself, sniffed strongly and wrinkled her nose, awkwardly used her long sleeves to wipe her face and... Kida's shoulder, her lips pursed and turned down in an conflicted frown.

Perhaps she ought to explain, or try and justify herself-

But Kida gives her an out, and she takes it immediately.]

Shall we begin first with a potion to purify wounds, or a powder that halts the flow of blood?

[Normally she would decide this for herself and simply boss a student along- but Kida had earned the courtesy of a choice, awkwardly mumbled as it was.]

[ Kida will let Sieglinde deal with her emotions on her own time; if Sieglinde needs to speak again, she won't be far--at most, a call away upon ALASTAIR's devices. ]

The second.

[ Mainly because it seems the more immediately pressing, useful choice--in battle or hunting, it was easy to bleed. Purification was for after arriving at the healer's, and Kida's not at that point yet. ]

What should I get?

[ She's getting up, giving Sieglinde some space, moving to where the herbs are kept in glass jars. A mortal and pestle are easy enough to find: these are definitely things Atlantis has. ]

[Once she has more space to wriggle about, she sets to composing herself better- fixing the hair in its admittedly sloppy set in her hennin headdress (living without servers who did it for her), straightening her gown- which was beginning to have seen much better days.]

It's a much more complex spell... We shall work at the table.

[Even after being told that he magic was fake, that she wasn't really a witch at all, she only had those sorts of words to discuss her work, never having learned anything else. Carefully, she slid from her chair, holding onto it for support and balance until she got her feet placed properly, taking the charateristic mincing steps over to where Kida was, elbows thunking on the table as she leaned up over the too-tall piece of furniture to begin pointing.]

Those husks, that box, this green vitriol...

[A glass jar of what seemed to be the shells of various water dwelling creatures, a box containing large shavings of metal, a flask of acidic smelling liquid. It made it easier to pretend she hadn't cried, even if her eyes were still red.]

[ The emotion in the room gently begins to drain away and be replaced by bustling energy again, which is just as well. She watches Sieglinde list off the ingredients with admiration coupled to amusement, as she slides into her place at the small table. Sieglinde knows exactly what she's after, and Kida grabs each jar as it's pointed out to her: she recognizes the one containing she shells, of course, but the rest are mysterious. ]

Well then, shall we start?

[ And start they do--Sieglinde's hands are nimble and quick but Kida's more than capable of following along as they crush the shells, turn the herbs into a paste with purified water and some liquid Kida struggles to recall the name of. Eventually, the stuff needs to be boiled and tended over--an hour slips by, then two, and by the time they're done the room will be filled with a fresh herb scent to rival an apothecary. ]

[ they will have done fun time alone before Masamune returns but when he does, it's pretty sudden as he practically busts the door down while trying to open it (in his absolute defense it's because he's carrying bags of items and he can't just open it the normal way. ]

Sieg, get ready! Tonight I'm making tacos!

[ it's a very dramatic entrance, all things said and he looks really excited not to mention the way he just stands there for a second... ah, he sees there is one more person here then when he left. ]

...

[ does he feel really childish and awkward now for this entrance suddenly, especially because it's Kida? ]

[ ...no.

No, he does not, it seems. ]

Oh heEeY~! Welcome to dinner party! [ his stupid engrish craze though. ]

Kidagakash, it's taco night. Hope you like them. [ or know what they are at least because he and Sieglinde think it's like... food only people of exotic royalty are allowed to have a taste of right now or something... ]

[ The door caves in with a crack and Kida surges up, forward, her hand reaching for her spear, ready to defend Sieglinde against--

--Masamune, apparently, carrying what appears to be groceries.

(This is slightly embarrassing.)

Also 'welcome to dinner party'??? Masa pls she speaks English. ]

Masamune...

[ She blinks at him for a hot second before turning back to the pot, wiping her salve-strewn gloves off on the rim of the cauldron. ]

'Tacos'? [ She guesses it's some kind of food, but. ] I do not know what those are...

[ She looks to Sieglinde, helplessly. ]

[It's easy to forget about things when she's working- that's arguably why she's been doing so much of it of late. The rest of the world bled away, and it was easier not to focus on the oppressive darkness outside the window, the lack of friends from home or familiar faces, the violence in the streets. There were clear goals and things to be done, and this time it was making sure Kida understood the process of using chiton to create a powder that closed those wounds that threatened to dispel too much blood from the body.

Masamune has a distinctive walk- rather, his clothing and armor have distinctive sounds, so she isn't off guard when the door slams open- rather, she abruptly remembers once her focus is broken that she. is. starving.

In the space between words, her stomach rumbles obligingly loudly, and she began untying her apron and brushing dust from crushed crustaceans from her seen-better-days gown, nodding knowingly at Kida.]

They are a most exotic fare, combining beans, cheese, and meat in a strange corn shell.

[No, she doesn't actually know what they are she is just bluffing her way through this okay?!]

Welcome back, Masamune.

Yes, what she said! [ he quickly sweeps the details of tacos under the rug to go along with sieglinde's bluff. bluffs are more awesome and work when enforced in numbers, yes?

masamune is already heading to uh... you know what where the hell is he cooking this in this roomanyway ???? but lets pretend there's a place to cook this i guess i mean just a random kitchen in here for this sort of thing is absolutely what we need right now. ]

Thanks. [ offers to Sieglinde for her welcome before disappearing into the special convenient extension room for cooking these tacos. But he will poke his head out a moment later to look back at them curiously, point over his shoulder towards the interior of the room. ]

Oh, you can come help or watch if either of you want. Otherwise, please continue your saves making. [ before he's back to business and HE'S IN HIS ELEMENT OK... rustling things and whatever to make his way around to get these tacos going. If he could have a chef outfit to wear right now you can bet your ass he would be wearing it.

also by saves he totally meant salves but uhhhh... yeah, do you think he was really paying attention when that word was actually spoken. ]

video | username; sieglindesullivan

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Tldrvomit im sorry

i cant hold all these emotions

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