Aches and Pains and Sad Hearts |
Summary: | Students gather in the library, each with their own worries and burdens to bear. |
Date: | 2018-04-16 |
Related: | NA |
NPCs: | NA |
Scene Runner: | NA |
Library, Winbarry Estate
Mon Apr 16, 2018
The Library is a large room with bookcases lining the walls which are full of books. Most of the textbooks have been salvaged from the school. Only the books that are referenced most are here. Histories and Sciences mostly with a scattering of other subjects. None of the books on magic have made it to this room. None of the books are in any kind of order just yet.
A few computer workstations have been set up so web surfing and hopefully school work can be done.
There are rectangular tables and chairs in here, all salvaged from the school library.
===
Classes are over for the day, and the students are milling around. Several run into town while others make their way to the mess hall. Anticipating that the library will be free, Bryce comes limping into the library with only a single book in his hand. He places the book on a table near the computers and then heads to the computer with the library catalogue as it is. He sits down and grimaces holding his side. Once seated, he takes a deep breath and grimaces again before typing into the computer. He searches for a book on swordplay.
<FS3> Callisto rolls Calligraphy: Good Success.
Classes are indeed over, and as soon as she could Callisto was peeling off that uniform and slipping into something a little more 'comfortable'. No no, not gutter-worthy; nor is she the sort to haul out the flannel pants. To the poised fae girl, 'comfortable' means respectful clothing that allows her to breathe a little bit. A classy powder-blue blouse with short fluted sleeves and cream-colored slacks.. Callisto is one of those lucky snots who can pull off wearing the color white and all of it's variants and not end up planting her ass onto a piece of a chocolate bar or spilling her coffee or such. Stupid lucky Callisto.
The girl is leaning over one of the rectangular tables at which she is seated, lashes lowered and resting crescent-like upon her cheekbones as she seems rather absorbed in a task… homework, maybe? Why is she doing homework with a fountain pen?
Aware suddenly of someone arriving, Callisto looks up just in time to spy Bryce moving to a work station and wincing. She watches the boy for a time, before asking in her cool, fluting way: "Bryce. Are you alright?" A pause then as she watches his hand lower from his side.
Bryce jumps a bit when he hears the voice. The jump causes another grimace. The circlet around his head flashes a cyan color as he almost falls out of his chair. He barely catches himself and seems relieved when he sees who it is. "Oh, hi, Callisto," he says with a bit of surprise. He looks at how lovely she is dressed and starts to stammer a bit. "You, you look very pr-uh," he isn't sure he should come out and admit what he was about to say. He tries to cover by answering her question. "I, I went on the mission, er, thingy." He drops his eyes and head a bit. "I, I didn't do well and got hurt." Looking up suddenly as though trying to defend himself he says, "I tried. Honest."
The fae girl watches the younger student with a look of evident concern, though she had the presence of mind to remove the tip of her writing utensil from the paper lest she mar her work. She didn't overlook the circlet flashing… what a curious, curious thing. She is quiet and watchful then, not hastening to fill any silences or trip all over herself in apology for startling the boy. Bryce's relief speaks to her of having composed himself, though he goes and gets flustered in his following statement. Though he does not finish the statement, barely makes it past the first syllable, Callisto understands and the corners of her lips quirk upwards just barely. "Thank you. T'is nice to be free of the uniform. I feel far more like myself when I can dress comfortably."
She listens then, leaning back in her seat and tilting her head as she so often does in a purely inquisitive way. "It sounds like the whole mission was most dangerous, there were others who were harmed." Callisto offers, "You went and you tried and you are wiser for it, no? Every bit counts." Said simply as she looks down at her book, before her pale gaze flits up at him again.
"Do not strain yourself. Lie down again when you get the chance.. these chairs are not kind to that sort of injury."
Comfy clothes? Check, Sketchbook in hand? Check. Besa steps in, jeans and a sweater. Nothing fancy for the ancient boy, but it fits him well. He's been rather hectic since the mission, trying to thank everyone, work on the new ritual, not die. You know, normal stuffs. He pauses in the doorway to rub at his chest, he's had to purposefully not do that in fronton certain people to not get them more upset than they already are. Seeing people he drops his hand and makes his way over nee the computers. He doesn't come close enough to touch though, "Hello Bryce, Callisto. How are you this evening?" Did he hear the mission being talked about? Hard to say.
Bryce's eyes open wide as she thanks him for what he almost said. How did she figure out what he was going to say? He thought he played it pretty well. Maybe it was something about her powers. However, when she says that he was wiser for it, Bryce shakes his head. "Um, no, not yet." He looks back at his search results and frowns a bit. He sighs a bit and slowly stands to his feet. There is that grimace again. "Hopefully I will be soon." He starts to head over to one of the book racks and says, "I've been laying down for, for a while. Had to read though." He figure that she will understand. Glancing back at Besa, he offers a little wave. "Good evening, Besa. I'm, I'm okay." It was a bad lie. He wasn't very good at lying either. "How are you, and, uh, Cocoa?"
The girl cranes her neck slightly to observe the new arrival to the library, moonpale braid slung over a shoulder. Of course she remembers Besa, between seeing him in classes and from their occasional run-ins on the grounds. She likes the gentle boy well enough though the 'residue' from his dreaming mind once sent her psychic skills for a spin. Callisto at least does not know exactly how this mission related to Besa .. one less inquisitive mind for the Egyptian boy to have to deal with, at least! She watches Besa skirt the computers, before she returns his greeting. "Good evening, Besa. I am well.. and you?" Asked in her fluid, accented way. It almost sounds… Danish. She looks a bit tired though.
She watches Bryce stand, not seeing fit to dig at him more as she indeed understands this need to be up, about and immersed in knowledge. She pauses, then, so as to not interrupt Bryce's exchange with Besa.
Besa's entire face falls into. Worried expression, "Are you injured?" Everyone hand waved him and Said everyone as fine! "Do you need to be healed?" He steps closer, but his hands don't raise. His fingers do twitch though, in that want to heal, to help someone. Callisto gets s strained smile, but he's too focused on Bryce to answer her just yet.
Loukanos has reconnected.
Bryce shakes his head though it might be hard if he is saying no to if he is okay or if he needs healing. His circlet flashes again which causes his clothes to 'relax' as though something is different underneath them. "I think I need to try and get better." Actually he is afraid of healing too and that quiver in his voice is noticeable. He resumes his path to the books and starts looking through the titles. He reaches up for one of the books on an upper shelf. He grimaces again and puts his arm down to catch his breath. "Oh, Callisto, th-thank you for helping me find that book. It is helping me figure out something for a friend." The old Bryce's poor attempt at a topic change.
The fae girl's head dips briefly as she gives her work another lick and a promise with that strange pen in her hand, though she looks up in time to note Besa's distinct reaction to Bryce's pain. Healed? So this boy is a healer? Callisto is watchful and she sees, too, the twitch of Besa's fingers. She then folds one long leg over the other as she observes Bryce's response to the offer and, in some way, Besa's response to Bryce! Oh my! She was just about to suggest that he (Bryce) accept the offer mostly because she wants to see him get some relief… and ALSO she is curious as to how Besa heals others. Alas, it's not Callisto's way to speak up on this matter… God knows speaking impulsively landed her in some trouble recently. Her lips press together at the thought of such, and with a delicate clearing of her throat she prepares to return to her work. Bryce's words once again cause her to look up.
"My pleasure. T'is my job afterall." Is offered gently, one brow quirking briefly. "I am content in knowing that it helped you and your friend. I shall be back at the store again this weekend if there is anything you need to look up, again."
Besa physically shrinks when told no, but he nods. His hold tightens around his sketch book, but he'll glance to Callisto, "I am as well as I can be. Thank you." There's a weird pause and then he nods, more to himself, "I didn't mean to bother you…." Looks like he's gonna try to head out.
Classes are back in session for the week, and Loukanos looks, more or less, comfortable and well-rested. Ambrosia is good at warding off cases of the Mondays. Out of his school uniform, the boy wears a white knit sweater and beige shorts with espadrilles covering his feet. All of good quality, though he looks 'off' in them, mildly uncomfortable as he is when he must wear the school uniform. The library seems more occupied than usual today, and while it gives him a brief pause, he continues on, carrying a sketchbook underneath his arm. "Good afternoon," He greets those that have gathered near the computers. His sapphire gaze lingers on Callisto as she is the only one who he has yet to be formally acquainted with. A tall girl like that, though? Hard to miss.
Bryce looks back at Callisto and says, "I think, I will try to be there. I am looking for some books." When isn't he? "I mean, of course I'm looking for new books. Would be silly to go to the bookstore otherwise." He says to Besa, "It's, well, not a bother to me. I wanted to help, um, others who were trying to help you and … ended up needing help." He sounds a bit down about that. "Good evening, Loukanos." He tries to reach up for that book on the upper shelf once more and grimaces again causing him to stop, He then gets an idea. A thin cyan beam emerges from his forehead and starts making its way slowly up to the book on swordplay.
Besa looks crestfallen, in being denied the chance to heal… why, he looks as if a wish hadn't been granted. Callisto straightens, her chin canting atop that slender stalk of neck as she observes the Egyptian boy preparing to make his getaway. "A sketchbook." Said firmly, full of earnest interest. "Are you an artist, then? I can hardly fashion a stickman," She is not trying to patronize, either. "I should like to see your work if so." Offered casually, smoothly, and that is when Loukanos arrives to this rather 'happening' library.
She receives the godling in a like fashion, knowing him to see him but not knowing him; cerulean eyes meet sapphire. "Good evening.. I regret that your name eludes me, for this I apologize." Callisto offers apologetically to Lou, head tilting again. Those who know Callisto well (VERY few) would know this to be a gesture of distinct interest, as she spies the sketchbook held in his arm! Oh my! Doubly interested!
Bryce is of course not forgotten, and Callisto is responding to him even as her gaze flits back to his person. "I work Saturday morning. You c——" …. beam. Forehead beam. WUT?! The fae girl blinks once, twice, and is utterly silent as Bryce seems to scan the books! Her gaze follows the trajectory of the beam to the tome on swordplay… a topic that cerebral Callisto knows nothing about.
Besa doesn't move away when Louk shows up, maybe to great his friend. "Hello Loukanos." He can't help the frown as Bryce makes it worse by saying it's not a bother, "You were hurt helping me." On the mission Besa don't even get to go on! The grimace has him looking away back to Cali and Louk. And then he's looking down at his book, "Yes, I suppose I am an artist. Although Loukanos and Schuyler are much more talented than I."
The display of Bryce's power is watched with curious interest. It never ceases to amaze Loukanos the powers mortals have acquired over the years. Still, he does not look surprised. Only impressed. The last time he witnessed Bryce's abilities, they came in the form of scissors. This, whatever it will end up being, looks like an improvement.
"Loukanos," The golden-haired boy offers smoothly. Only Ashton really ever calls him 'Louk', so he sticks with the full name. If he senses struggle with its pronunciation, he looks more than willing to repeat himself. "And you would be…Callisto." His voice lifts slightly like he's asking a question more than stating a fact. Then again, he could not forget her. She feels a little too much like the boy of his dreams, and on more than one occasion, he came close to mistaking her for him altogether. Thinking better not to ask on the matter, he glances at Besa and shakes his head, "You're too humble. You have lived for much longer than I."
Bryce focus on the beam of psychic energy as it nears the book. It starts to form slowly into a medium-sized dagger; however, the dagger appears blunt on both sides. Another dagger starts to grow off of the first dagger creating a large pair of thick, blunt scissors - a large pair of sheers. He uses the blunt sheers to grab the book. "I've, I've never tried this before." He starts to pull the book off of the shelf. The sheers hold the book above his head for a moment before it starts to slip. Bryce lifts his arms up over his head. The circlet flashes as the book falls. It hits his arm with a thug. Thud? That didn't sound like it hitting an arm. It then falls on the floor.
Is that a quirk of… surprise.. to Callisto's patrician features? No, she is not surprised by the notion of Loukanos knowing her name; Heaven knows names of all sorts are thrown around as commonplace in an academic setting. There is no way of Callisto really knowing the connection that Loukanos makes between herself and his boy — so much so as to mistaken her aura for something similar to his. No no, she will just go on watching Loukanos for a few seconds longer, before she dips her svelte head in affirmation. "T'is I. Promethean, too?" Is asked softly, brilliant eyes lifting to observe the humble Besa with his sketchbook as well. "I am beginning to suspect the Guardians of Prometheus as being home to a bouquet of artisans." She observes, gazes flitting down toward her book once more. "Is there anything quite so magical as beauty bourne of words and art?"
However dark her aura, akin to demons, at least hers is a restful one. It speaks of rest, of dreams; deep dark silence.
There is a coy look lifted now, firstly to Loukanos… settling upon Besa. "I do so love artwork." Hint hint. Crack open that sketchbook! Heavens, Callisto hasn't finished her second sentence, yet. Stop being so interesting, Promethean boys!! She looks up once more to observe Bryce going through his sequence, only to have a book hit the floor. The fae girl's eyes widen then, "Are you alright?" She asks once more. The abilities of other students confound her; wonderfully so!
"Age does not equate to talent, my friend." Besa smiles, not upset that he's not the best artist. He's pursued other things, like demon killing. He takes a small step backwards to give Bryce the room he needs for whatever it is he's doing. The book is bright up to his chest, although he doesn't get the hint, instead watching Bryce and then frowning when the book hits something not his arm.
Loukanos opens his mouth to respond to Callisto, but as Bryce's book tumbles to the floor, he simply nods about his position as a Guardian of Prometheus and bends down to retrieve the book. "Here. I see we're moving to larger scissors?" No hint of condescending in his voice. Progress is good. There is an amused smile tugging on his lips, however, as he extends the book to Bryce. "Remember that precision is just as important as magnitude."
Catching Callisto's meaning, Loukanos smiles ruefully at the taller girl. "I am afraid this book is completely blank, recently purchased. A fresh start, so to speak." He smiles at what she says of art. "I have recently rediscovered my fondness for oil paints. Nature can be captured for an eternity in a single painting…if you would like to see a sketch of mine, Besa should have one in his book." Unless that's a different one from when they went camping together. He ponders, "We Prometheans tend to be creative types, but it was the silver-eyed Athena who championed the arts."
Bryce blinks a bit and says, "That was close." The sheers disappear as he tries to bend down and pick up the book. Thankfully Loukanos helps him "Thank you. I am trying different, well, versions. I'm trying to do a folding or switchblade because, um, I think it will help me make a claw." He takes the book and starts to head towards the computer. "I'm, I'm Prometheus too, but I can't draw. I was hoping to take classes because, well, I thought it would help my powers. A very nice friend told me there are some, um, impromptu art meetings. I was going to try and join it. Well, I'm thinking about it." Bryce isn't the most definitive person. "Do you have any sketches of dogs?"
THe fae girl watches silently, appreciates Loukanos' patience with Bryce and his guidance. A lack of condescension in the godling's voice is indeed noted, and for this Callisto is grateful. Being a teenager is hard enough; being a teenager coming into powers is.. yeah. For all intents and purposes Callisto is a teenager by her racial standards it's just… she's.. been that way for many, many years. c.c
"I do so love art. Painting, poetry.." Callisto leans back again, setting her pen down and again taking body language that speaks of open interest, patience. She listens to the discussion afoot amidst the three whose company she now finds herself in. Notable, too, is the rapport between Besa and Loukanos.. it's heartening to see. Callisto remains seated, long and graceful and at-home in a room full of books.. however haphazardly gathered, in the move from the old school to this elderly estate.
"I favor words. Though I fear that my medium is old and difficult to… integrate into this new world." 'New' world? Callisto's lashes flutter.
Oh. Besa nods, opening eh sketch book. There's several other drawings, strangling varying in skill level a lot before he reaches the sketch that Louk did when the went camping. "Here, this is Loukanos's." It's offered over to Callisto. "I have draw a few dogs, yes." Back to Callisto, "I enjoy poetry, but am not good with writing it."
The sketch made by Loukanos is a flattering one of Besa. It speaks of talent, well-shaded and controlled. His eyes flicker to Bryce, and he considers briefly, "Art can integrate well with your brand of psionics, Bryce. So well I am surprised I did not think of it before. With art, anything you can imagine can become real…if you can wrap your head around that, then perhaps there will be no limit to what you can make." Easier said than done, though
"That reminds me. I must find time to read a Walt Whitman book Grayson lend me," Loukanos recalls but then shakes his head. That may just be what he spends his night doing. He leans over ever so slightly to glance at the books around Callisto. "Words? Are you a writer?" But that is so very prevalent to this age…a moment later, he guesses, "Or did you mean penmanship?"
Bryce nods his head as Loukanos mentions what he could do with art. "That, that is what I was thinking, but I'm not sure how well I'd do at art." He places the book down and says, "Callisto work at a book store." From Bryce that sounds like high praise. He still sounds a bit awestruck from his experience there. "Besa let me borrow a poetry book." Which means it is memorized now. "I tried to read a book on art, but, well, it didn't help."
The fae girl's eyes widen then, "I do so love poetry." She admits, and in any nuance of excitement or interest her Northern accent intensifies. She watches Besa for a time, wonderingly. "Have you any poetry in your book?" She can't help but ask… but she will not push. Besa indicates a piece of art drawn by Loukanos and Callisto leans forth to look upon the indicated piece, handling the book gently should Besa trust her to hold it. Callisto says nothing but her face says everything, her gaze roving over the lines and the shading. A slow exhale, reverent almost, as she looks up at Loukanos in time to field his question.
But first: "This is wonderful. I should like to believe that the taking of a new sketchbook, your fresh start, is a wonderful thing indeed. Well done." Say earnestly.. she isn't one to gush and go on with copious inflections, but it's all in her expression. Callisto is impressed. Then… "I make words my art form. Literally." he indicates the cursive laid out upon crisp stationary, black as a raven's wing and perfectly written. Swooping, archaic calligraphy… it is hard to discern what is written because it's all in Danish. "T'was my medium when I was a child, and it has carried over since." Said softly… since. She turns next to Bryce, and has the decency to blush a tad. "Ah.. yes. Silver Fable. I've been there a few months now, though I would hardly call it… difficult." She favors the boy wearing the circlet with a kind semi-smile.
<FS3> Besa rolls Past Lives: Success.
Besa's expression falls again to what it was when he realized that Bryce was hurt, "How is he? Everyone told me that everyone was fine after the mission, but now I am hearing that many people were hurt…" His hand creeps up to lay over his heart. "I tried to find him the other day, but was not able to." Even if the Ares will dismiss him , Besa needs to see to make sure he's alright. But back to poetry, Bryce gets a soft smile and nod about the book before he answers Calli, "No. It is not good enough to keep it is the equivalent of the 'Roses are Red' now a days." He lets her hold the book, He's not attached to it like some artists are. He studies what is written, en eyebrow raises before logic back up to her, "Why?"
"Books are not likely to make at an artist out of you, Bryce," Loukanos chuckles a bit and offers, "One thing your books aren't likely to teach you. The best way to learn in regards to art is to do. Find what you enjoy and what works for you." He looks at Besa and nods, "He is recovering. I told you that we all returned alive. You had just woken up to the surprise of a lifetime…at the time, I thought it mercy to spare you the details of his injuries," Nevermind, Louk's own guilt on the situation. After visiting the sea-touched boy, some of that guilt has been alleviated. "He is very happy, though." Happy?
Pleased that someone enjoys his work, however trivial the sketch might actually be, Loukanos all but beams. "Thank you. I hope to find the adequate inspiration to fill it soon," His dreams (or nightmares, more like) will only take him so far now that he no longer needs regular sleep. Taking a closer examination at Callisto's work, his bright eyes widen, "Beautiful. An archaic art, indeed, but no less lovely for it." His head tilts. "It is written in a Nordic language, yes? If you would not mind, can you read it aloud so that I might understand it?"
Bryce is worried of healing because he knows so little of magic and doesn't know what it might do to his psychic energy. He also wonders if there is a sacrifice like Ashton needs. "I, I didn't mean to get hurt. I was trying to help Rain, and, well, I did't." As Loukanos mentions Walt Whitman, Bryce says, "His poetry has an odd … feel to it." That's not quite the word he is after though. He shut his eyes and reads: "All alone stood it and the moss hung down from the branches, Without any companion it stood there uttering joyous leaves of dark green, And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself." Blinking his eyes open he says in a very excited voice, "She actually works in a bookstore, and get this, she helps people find books they need. She doesn't even charge extra or anything." Apparently the book-seller Callisto has made a fan. Then, talking about the art, Bryce said, "I tried. It, it didn't look like anything."
Besa's eyes narrow in confusion, "Grayson is…happy?" That seems like a bad omen! He glances to the door, like he might try to go find the teen now to check and make sure. Everyone is trying to spare Besa. The teen looks like somehow that makes things worse. No one is letting him help, just sparing him . A swallow an Besa tries (and fails) to not frown more as Bryce talks. His hand rubs his chest as he thinks.
"Yes," Loukanos nods again. He and Grayson only spoke briefly before the mission, so the godling has not been acquainted with Grayson's grumpier side. Or he has and is trying to keep an open mind. "Happy to be alive, he said. What a lovely outlook to have on life. Here I was, expecting resentment and bitterness but no…" He follows Besa's gaze to the door. "I think he is well enough that he's moving about if you are looking to check on him."
The fae girl's eyes flutter closed at the recital of poetry in Bryce's tongue… yeah, she really likes poetry. A little sigh through her nostrils; she then looks sheepish at the praise.. as if looking up a book title in an online index is magic. "I would never charge extra to do my job, lest I be fired." She says with a touch of humor to her tone. Besa's deciphering of her language widens her gaze somewhat; Lou's question strikes her dumb. This time Callisto has… she can't help it. She blushes.
"It reads as… 'I must be wiser.'" Said softly, "T'is in no way, shape or form poetic… but a mantra, for myself. Sometimes I forget myself and say things, ask questions, that I must not ask." Callisto rubs the back of her lithe neck, flicking at a few hanks of silver-white tresses that escaped the braid. "I must think before I act, before I talk. It chafes some, whom I meet."
When Callisto jokes about being fired, Bryce says, "I, I won't let them." He is a bit more energetic than he should be and grimaces again. "I think, I think I should go lay down." Which is what Callisto said earlier. He grabs the book and say, "I think I'll see if you have any books on swordplay or memory." He then looks at Besa and wishes he could do something to help, that there were some words he could say. He shuts his eyes for a moment and says, " Maya Angelou said: When we give cheerfully and accept gratefully, everyone is blessed." He opens his eyes and gives a little smile. "Seeing all the people who wanted to help you, I guess that makes you blessed. Good night, everyone."
Perfect hair bounces gently as Besa nods in agreement with Calli. "I think those are good words to be a mantra." Perhaps he should use them as well. His lower lip is chewed on briefly , Besa's strong to decide if he should just go find Grayson or not. His head swivels back to listen to the quote from Bryce, it's….a hard thing to accept. Especially when he's always been the giver. "Goodnight Bryce." Poor Best, everyone loves him. What a heavy weight to have on his shoulders! He makes another face, rubbing his chest more.
"Sweet dreams, Bryce," Loukanos says to the departing boy with a faint smile. "Feel better." Yes, he noticed minor bruising. Perhaps that is why he was so quick to collect his fallen book. Turning to Callisto, he tilts his head, "You have proven to be insightful and personable enough in the short time we have spoken…but yes, mortals can be reactive beings. It is important to tread carefully, especially with strangers. I think that is a good reminder for everyone."
Pale blue-green eyes watch Besa, out of the three, for it is to the boy that Callisto finds her gaze roving at random. She watches his hand pass over his chest, paired with his expression. Is he highly expressive, or is he having pains there? Why would one so young have pain in his heart? Callisto tilts her head again, her own stormy bit of thought derailed by the sight. Something… there is suffering afoot here, emotional suffering. Callisto takes a slow, deep breath and considers—-
But then Bryce is setting out. She sees him grimace also and Callisto worries for these boys with their paining chests and sides. "Get some rest, and rise tomorrow feeling that much better." She says gently… too bad she cannot 'push' sleep upon him. That mental/Psychic push that eases a body into deep, perfect slumber. She watches Bryce go before she turns finally to Loukanos. Something he says strikes her then…
"Mortals…" Callisto whispers, eyes rounded. She looks between Besa and Loukanos, settles again upon the latter. "You speak in knowing. Are you… have you an eternity ahead of you, as well?" She asks.. almost shyly.
Besa gives Louk a strange look, but he'll not correct his friend. At least not in front of Calli. "Only if I am truly damned." Another reason ha can't believe he's blessed, no one blessed would keep coming back. They would be rewarded with eternal rest. But then he blinks, bangs hanging in his eyes making him look younger than eternal, "Eternity is a long time." Hopefully Louk and Calli are built better for it than Best.
<FS3> Loukanos rolls Divination: Success.
"As long as the gods of Olympos have power, I will continue to exist," Loukanos responds nonchalantly. "And if you find these earthly beings to be irritable creatures, just meet a deity. Their highs and lows are much more intense and often harmful." Again, he seems to speak from experience. "I believe that that may be the nature of mortals. Less extreme versions of gods." He blinks and studies Callisto. "You are…old, for lack of a better term, as well, are you not?" Not Besa old but old nonetheless.
Something about how Besa says that speaks to Callisto of… experience. She studies the boy with the perfect hair once more, her brow furrowing. "You, as well?" Asked gently.. Callisto can speak with great care, when prompted. This here is a good cause to do so, with how sad Besa looks. She is clearly missing a massive chunk of a substantial story. Then there, too, is Loukanos… a godling! Callisto is no slouch in mythology… no, she's no expert either but she's not dumb about it. "You… are the product, the child, of a God? Gods?" Asked in as gentle a tone as used when she posed her question to Besa.
There is a great, tremulous feeling in Callisto's chest. Damnit, what is this? Why? Simple. She has never before been able to talk about this.. to anyone. EVER. It's a strange, scary, deeply touching feeling. She peers up from beneath her lashes at Louk as he studies her. "I.. have been around for nearly two centuries, with eternity ahead of me.. barring any accidents." Young by immortal standards, "A drop in a vast bucket, an endless one. My existence is not an easy one, 'twas not meant to be benevolent either but be it as it may, t'is the direction I am veering toward. Much to the ire of my… rather sinister kith and kin." A whisper, Callisto looks crestfallen. It's scarier to let herself feel this way, and display it as so.
"I think everything sentient has the capacity and the leaning to be reactive. It is what we do." We, Besa doesn't think himself immortal, maybe it's all of the dying he's done. Calli gets his attention, waiting patiently to see if she explains how she is immortal. Not that Besa would ever ask, that would be rude. A nod, he'll not deny it though, "Yes." His mouth quirks at how young she is, "You must go in the direction your heart takes you. Or your very long eternity will seem even longer." He'll add about the Gods that Louk speaks of, "I recommend meeting the Dryads, not the hellhounds."
Letting Besa explains the details of his own immortality, Loukanos holds up a single finger. "One. A goddess. I have not lived for long enough to speak on the intricacies of immortality. I only know that so long as Demeter does not disown me entirely, I will live indefinitely." He frowns slightly as Callisto reveals the nature of her existence. He listens intently, then says, "Mother once said life is only precious because it ends. I have yet to meet a happy immortal…save the dryads," A sly grin to Besa, but he's looking serious again. "I was once more excited by the prospect, but I am only given more reasons to fear it." Is infinite life really so bad? "Family will do that," There's a pang of compassion. Understanding. "Anything we can do to help?" Yes, he is offering Besa's assistance.
"My heart led me in one direction, what felt like the right one. T'was awhile ago, when I broke free of my parentage." Callisto admits, looking down at what she had written in her book so eloquently. A short, graceful passage. She watches Besa again, though she has the grace to not look startled at how this sad, so-old-but-so-YOUNG looking boy could… well, she'd go right through the roof to learn of his true age. Callisto is not quite ready to explain why she is the way she is; there is the barest headache beginning to form behind a temple. It's like a warning. "I fear that I have outlived my first love, I know naught what happened to him. I do not know if I could handle that again." Said just under her breath.. the pang of pain in her head throbs once, as if in affirmation.
To look between Loukanos and Besa, to see the care shown, is nonethless reassuring to Callisto. «Look upon this Mother. A godling, bourne of those who could destroy you, surely.» Thought to herself spitefully, not toward the two boys in her company but sending the vitriolic thought to the presence in her mind, drawn by her brief wistfulness and causing that physical pain. She even looks pained, briefly. She must not taunt Malachite further.
"I thank you, I truly do. The both of you. I.. must take my leave. But it truly.. truly helped to say those words, to share.." Why does she look so pained? Not emotionally pained, but physically. Callisto looks between Loukanos and Besa, an earnest look of appreciation… of underlying fear, not of them but of something. Something that is causing her pain. Callisto takes her leave, but forgets the page bearing her cursive upon the table.
'I will be wiser.'
Besa swallows, looking down at hi feet. Outliving people is hard. Possible the hardest thing. "I am sorry, Callisto. Loukanos is right, if there is anything we can do, please let us know." He takes a small step forward when her pain is obvious, "Callisto? What is wrong?"But then she's hurry away and the ancient teen stands there, one hand on his heart, glancing from the doorway to the paper to Louk. "She was in pain!"
Loukanos watches, letting the waves of pain and fear wash over him. His sapphire gaze narrows a touch as she collects her belongings and rushes to leave. How curious. The pain was real. It is the potential causes that leave him contemplating. Besa's exclamation shakes him out of his reflection of the situation. "Yes, I gathered that," He says to the Egyptian. "I do not know why. Do you believe it is something we said?"
Her words are looked at again before Besa carefully reaches down and picks up the paper, "I hope not." Seems not only is he not allowed to heal people, but not he's potentially hurting them! "200 years….Her family seems….not kind." His wheels are turning, he has magic for a reason, darn it! "We need to help her."
"Beings of that kind of longevity tend not to be. Power like that is often not achieved through benevolence," Loukanos frowns, looking at the script. "I would like to ask her more about the nature of her race. She felt otherworldly." Looking at Besa, the golden-haired boy asks softly, "And how do you suppose we do that?" He can spot a thinking face when he sees one.
Besa chews his lower lip, "I…am not sure yet. We will need to know more. But…I know that sometimes, immortal or not, a hand needs to be held out." A deep breath and then he grimaces, his immortality is looking shorter with each deep breath, "Perhaps we can help hide her? There are plenty of cloaking magics. At least till we can do something else to help." The Guardian's fought demons, he can fight water Calli's family is, he supposes.
"We must also make sure that our help does not cause more harm than good," Loukanos says. It looked like her pain may have been triggered by something they said or perhaps something she said to them. "I know a talisman that may work for keeping her hidden from those that would seek to harm her."
Besa nods, "The is why we should know more." And then he ads, although its a duh thing, "And make sure our help is wanted." His friend gets a soft smile, "Good. Between our two magics, I think there is little we could not affect."
Seating himself where Callisto once was, Loukanos open his sketchbook but still looks up at Besa. "Of course," He nods. "And if there is something outside of our purview, I am certain I can enlist Ashton to aid us…?" He gives Besa a questioning look. It is hard for him to tell how he feels about the half-demon at any given moment.
Besa doesn't always know how he feels about Ashton half the time. But currently? With no demon in him? Besa nods, "Of course, but I also do not wish to stress him out more than he already is. I wish he was not working so hard on getting the ritual written down…He looks so tired." Maybe Louk can make he understand, "I have told him that I am not going anywhere. And if my heart is not strong enough…I will wrap and come back. He does not need to upset himself so about transcribing it as fast as possible."
"That may be due to how long he spent without sleep. I will speak to him and make him aware of your concerns," Loukanos will leave out the part about Besa's potential death. There is an absent smile as the conversation shifts to Ashton. Perhaps he will make a sketch of the other boy. "I do not think I can dissuade him, though." Not with words, anyway, and kisses only last for so long. "He cares about you a great deal." Looking at the blank page, he decides on something else entirely and lifts his pencil to bring the mental picture to life.