Imprints in Stone [AU]

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene rarely took opportunities to be skyclad. 

They had enjoyed it when they were small. They had liked dispensing with fussy, uncomfortable fabrics that rubbed in all the wrong spots, and they had enjoyed the freedom from the small noises fabric made crossing their skin that grated like nails on a chalk-slate. Later they had come to enjoy the freedom from expectation: there's no need to worry about the gender of clothing when they only wear their own skin.

But their body had expectations and gender all its own, and they didn't like eyes falling upon them, etching that sight into the minds behind them. So they had learned to keep covered at all times.

It was strangely freeing, making the sacrifice to Raplin. "This one desires only an audience with Bright Raplin," they say quietly. "Or any intermediary thereof. This one seeks knowledge, as this one belongs to Alydra, and so, this one calls upon Bright Raplin or any intermediary to answer this one's call. This one has questions."

[NPCs]

The tree they had chosen was a very impressive white oak- they'd looked (with magic, of course), but couldn't find a gold oak anywhere for a dozen miles in any direction. So this would have to do. It's certainly an impressive example of its kind, crowning at nearly eighty feet or so and spreading nearly that much around as well. Facing the clearing and thus Helene, there's a strand of ivy or some other kind of flowering vine that covers most of the height of the tree. As they finish their beseeching, one of the flowers shivers, then falls to the ground only a few feet from Helene. As it drifts, it swells and warps. Or perhaps grows.

In the seconds it takes to touch soil, it's become a person. A second later, it's become a giant of a person, nearly nine feet in height with dark green hair strewn with yellow and lavender flowers. Her skin is a lighter green mixed with an almost oak brown, and every bit of it not covered by her ankle length hair is showing. She remains in the kneeling position she formed from, vivid red and purple eyes opening to peer at Helene. Dark green lips curve in a delighted smile as she speaks in a deep, whispering voice. "Well hello little cousin. Well met." She shifts then, just a little, but but it causes her sizable breasts to sway.

None of that is anywhere near as imposing as the sheer presence the being exudes, both of allure and divinity.

[Helene Dakesh]

Shame floods Helene; they freeze, like a frightened rabbit, eyes still on the ground, where their offering of a tome of poetry about the loveliness of trees has vanished, accepted by the God. They forget to breathe, trembling faintly, until the aura rolls over them, comforting them slightly. 

Not a person. A deity's factor. An outsider. Not a person. They won't think the same way as people (better than people). 

They take a long, deep breath, trying to calm their racing heart.

[Tethras Clan]

"Hey, hey, it's alright," the impossibly, perfectly lovely being says kindly. "Gotta say, terror and shame aren't the usual reactions I get... Mostly lust, sometimes jealousy or bitterness. You alright, little cousin?"

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene shakes their head, taking another deep breath. They fall back on the words, basking in the aura of godliness. "This one's form is deceptive," they squeak.

[Tethras Clan]

The massive nymph's nose wrinkles a little. Yeah... that's one way to put it. But that's not my place to talk about. Nope, nope, nope. "You mean the whole being a hundred and change or some such? Yep, got it. But I doubt you summoned me to chat about that, eh?" Grinning, she reaches over to lightly bap Helene on the nose. "I'm Maeve, by the way, youngest of Raplin's Daughters."

[Helene Dakesh]

"This one is Seeker Helene who was Dakesh who was Avanti who was Eden whose past is unknown. This one belongs to Alydra. This one-- this one has questions."

[Tethras Clan]

You could say that again. Belongs to Alydra indeed. "Cast," Maeve says easily, shifting into sitting cross legged instead of kneeling on the ground. "And relax, I'm not one for city manners. Respect is enough, I don't need bowing or scraping or none of that silliness."

[Helene Dakesh]

"This one... this one struggles with words at times. This one means no disrespect, and if Bright Maeve requests again this one will do this one's best to honor the request only-- only, this one worries this one will not be able to formulate this one's questions if this one affects a more casual air."

[Tethras Clan]

"Huh? Oh, no, that's fine. Kind of nostalgic. Used to have a friend that spoke like you. Silver dragon, great sense of humor, very inventive, but he loved words a bit too much, you know? Fancied himself a poet, which he really, really, wasn't. But he could give a great speech and was a pleasure to listen talk about whatever. Just meant you could have a sit or toss some clothes on if you're cold, whatever," Maeve says airily.

[Helene Dakesh]

There's a brief pause, then Helene scrambles for the nearby rock where they had left their Seeker's robes. They pull the robes over their head, seeing to relax some as they return to Maeve and give a small bow. "This one thanks Bright Maeve." 

Finally getting a good look, they flush faintly as the other aura commands their attention. "This one is more comfortable. May this one begin asking questions? This one does not want to waste Bright Maeve's time."

[Tethras Clan]

"Hmmm. Mind changing that up to Pretty Maeve?" the nymph asks with a wink. Damn adorable is what you are, that... other stuff aside. Once you get past that...Kind of like sour berry pie. That first bite gets a pucker but after that... good eatings.

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene gives a small shiver, stealing a glance at Maeve's chest. "This unworthy one will do as Pretty Maeve asks."

[Tethras Clan]

Maeve chuckles, her chest bouncing nicely. "Aw, you're a real sweetie, aren't you? I was mostly joking, but if you want to run with it, I'm certainly not going to object. Anyway, you had questions?"

[Helene Dakesh]

"This one has been tracing the story of one Stalwart Beauregard, elder brother of one Steadfast Beauregard who was called Sten, son of one Earnest Beauregard and one Charity Beauregard who was born Chandala Stewardson," they repeat. "This one has reason to believe that, immediately prior to going missing, Stalwart was taken to a person or place called Golden Green, likely for some magical treatment of disease or grievous injury. This one has been informed that at the time, Golden Green would have referred to someone in the lands around Raplin's Oak, and that if there was difficult healing to be done, Bright Raplin or one of his Daughters would have performed it. This one inquires if Pretty Maeve recalls such a healing or such a person."