revivalproject | Fear to See the World to Be

WHO: Omeeega, mothcat squad and anyone in Sh'Ka
WHERE: Sh'Ka
WHAT: Seeing things and trying not to be alone
WHEN: Mid-October/During the Storm
WARNINGS: N/A

I. Shoot the Breeze
While she's aware that Sh'Ka isn't exempt from those storms, it still feels like so long ago that she had last experienced one. Then again, for her it has been.

Omega only vaguely becomes aware of the possibility when she realizes the train hasn't been running normally. Or perhaps it was something about the air... Little things that she just can't put her finger on, but it's made her more wary.

"Stick close, Launch. You too, Dart," she informs her squad. The two mothcats glance back from where they've fluttered off ahead of her, inevitably turning forward again to resume their wandering. Omega sighs, rolling her eyes, but she can't help for a faint smile. Some things at least never changed. She reaches up to pat the mothcat perched on her shoulder before letting her hand fall over the bulging bag slung at her side where the tail of another mothcat sticks out. If he'd weighed as much as the space he occupied, she's certain her bag would have split at its seams by now.

"Come on. Back to the shelter," she says, head nodding towards the hotel building.

II. Wish You Were Here
Thunder rumbles above, but that's hardly Omega's concern as she hurries down the streets. For all that things had been quiet the past few days, nothing had actually happened. Today's caught her off guard, and she can only hope the rest of her squad is taking cover at the hotel.

Somehow she's gotten herself turned around though, and only now the girl realizes it. "It's okay, we just... We just need to go back," she says, glancing down at her bag and the fuzzy mothcat head sticking out from it.

Movement from somewhere ahead of them has her stop, and even though she knows her weapon's useless at the moment, she still pulls her energy bow from behind her, its solidness in her hand giving some mild comfort.

"Wh-who's there..?"

Her eyes widen as she sees them, a man in gray armor with a khaki kama about his waist, and in place of his right hand he has a scomp-link. "Echo?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Can anyone use magic, where you're from?" It doesn't seem to work that way when it comes to this Force that the Jedi are attuned to.

Omega only knows so much about the Jedi. She's only personally met one, and Gungi's people, the Wookies of Kashyyyk, are very much nature-oriented, respecting the wisdom of the trees, the great forests that have existed for so long, and its creatures who also dwelt within them.

"Would you say this world is off balance?" she asks, cleaning off her hands and the cutting knife.

"No. One has to have the born gift for it. There are those who can learn what is called 'academic magic', and their magic will have specializations of course, but ultimately they have the potential to share many things. Then there are ambient mages like myself. Our gift can only manifest through something specific, often some form of 'craft'."

But often ambient mages could be very potent. Many of the 'Great Mages' of the world were ambient mages. Rosethorn with her greenmagic, Frostpine as a smithmage work, and Lark herself as a threadmage. And still others as well.

"Those who have an academic mage gift are sent to the academies to train. Ambient magic tends to need a combination of general training, and training in their manifestation. I have seen those whose gifts appear in cooking, in metal, in stones, in plants, and even once recently in dance."

IT was rather intriguing, Sandry's student. Her own apprentice had taken her responsibility seriously, finding dance instructors who could help the young mage learn how to pair dance with intent with spell.

"This planet is very off balance I think. So I have thought when I have spoken in passing with the Funfronds. I do not doubt my Rosie could tell us more of how the natural world is off balance."

Omega scratches Tumble on the head, the mothcat finally having slunk out of the bag to stretch out before settling like a pale green mound of fur on the table.

"Magic sounds amazing. How does it work in dance?" What did one do with that? She can't quite imagine it.

"It seems like something very unnatural is disturbing the natural state of things, right? Do the Funfronds know what's causing it?"

Lark works on the stirring to keep their ingredients from burning over the less than reliable heat.

"In part it is intention, and the fixtures of the dance. There was a traditional dance that was once done that was held to bring more fish into nets. A young man with dance magic was taught the dance by a woman, and danced it over the nets before the fishermen went out. And it brought them great catches."

Which was why Sandry had found the boy. Of course that was the first time one of the children had learned it was the responsibility of a mage who finds someone with a gift to teach them their first lessons and see that they are guided to suitable teachers if they themselves are not suited to the task.

"I have not had conversations on that level with them. It has been lighter with us, though to be fair, I am just enamored with their manner of speech."

"Ohh..." Not that it really explains much, and she supposes it has different applications depending on...well, a lot of things. By now Omega at least has a grasp on what traditions are, and how things differ between places and people with their cultures.

"I think the most I've ever tried doing was giving them little blankets and scarves when things were getting colder," she says, head tilting as though recalling a distant memory, but then it sort of is when she'd been gone for so long. "Or maybe that was for the...Barrys? Have you spoken to them?"

"That is kind of you. When we left the underground I left them the rush mats and curtains I wove."

They had seemed to appreciate that as well.

"As for the Barrys, they... Well, I have not spoken to them. They seemed to busy to wish to be bothered."

True, it did seem like the Barrys were always busy with something, or at least they seemed more intent in going somewhere from what Omega's seen.

"Do they need anything else? They probably fair better than we do here since it's their home, but...I guess if we're living with them all, it doesn't hurt to try looking out for each other, right?"

"They are our neighbors," Lark agrees thoughtfully. "How about when we go back, we ask them?"

Because it is better to give a needed gift than to give something unneeded.

Omega brightens at that, nodding. "Oh yes, let's do that." Something to look forward to, and the young clone certainly loves to help out people when she can. Of course, that will have to wait for the time being, but at least they can enjoy soup soon.

Lark smiles and nods and stirs a bit more. Then she smiles.

"I'm going to make some griddle cakes. To go with our soup."

"I've only had birthday cake before, are they very different?" Not that she'll complain. Trying different food is one of the things Omega's enjoyed about going to other places, being around other people.

Oh dear, it's an entirely different thing. Lark chuckles a little, but not because she's judging Omega. Because of the disconnect of the words.

"They are more like a dense fried bread than they are a pastry."

Omega tries to imagine this. Dunking an entire birthday cake into a vat of frying oil probably isn't very healthy at all.

"Well, I've had fried things before and they're pretty tasty. Can you show me how to make them?" She needs more than birthday cake on her repertoire.

Lark would most definitely not approve of such a prospect. But she does move over to the work area, taking a container of flour out and pouring some out.

"We'll need to make our dough first. It's a simple one. We need water and salt to add to our flour."

Learning new things!

Omega makes sure Tumble is settled before she goes to wash off her hands again so she can join Lark. At least they won't have to worry too much about this mothcat getting into things. If the rest of her squad cares to join them, they'll have floury pawprints everywhere!

Fear to See the World to Be

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