(1874-11-20) Sleep Walking
Sleep Walking
Summary: Myrana's nocturnal ramblings lead her to step on Ludovic's beard.
Date: 10th Dec 2018
Related: Linked to the darius' eye research.
NPCs: None
Myrana  Ivo  Ludovic  

Somewhere on the trail
A campsite

Myrana steps right on Ludovic's beard and over his head, and that's how this D'Korbina gets to wake up today.
Well… 'today'. It's dark as hell and the snowy woods are alive with the sound of the wind rustling high in the stirring pines. The fire still crackles in the middle of their little campsite, set into the narrow side of a rocky outcropping in a wooded slope. The horses are close together against the chill and their breath plumes in the glowering firelight.
'?' Having walked right the hell over D'Korbina like he wasn't there, the little D'Armaz, glowing white and eerie in the firelight, pauses for half a moment with her head cocked. Listening. But not for long: she proceeds to pad barefoot right over all his shit on her way somewhere.

Ludovic is half way to his feet, having made a rather amusing sound of intermixed surprise and discomfort, with his weapon in hand before he even recalls the fact that it is both dark and that his accoster is walking away from him as if nothing happened. Its the fact her back is turned to him that manages to cut through his instinctive attack and stop himself from splitting her in half. Whilst it keeps her from immediate harm it certainly doesn't from stomping angrily after her. Attempting to grab a shoulder and spin her around to face him. "Crow's Teeth Myra! This isn’t Funny"

Ivo has been sleeping better over the last few days, but his brain is still giving dreamtime to the visions he saw when his cousin was reading the magic book. As such it doesn't take much to wake him from his slumbers, although at least this time it isn't in a cold sweat. The sound of Ludovic's distress has him awake and rolling up onto one knee with a pistol readied in a matter of seconds, but that’s as far as he gets before the confusion of the situation stops him. Once Myrana is identified as the culprit he reholsters the weapon on his belt, then pushes himself to his feet and trudges over to the pair, tugging his cloak tightly around his shoulders as the cold bites. "What's going on?" he asks, blinking first at the pair of them, then around the camp, checking to make sure nothing else is amiss.

Whiff! Myrana weaves lightly to the side with a fluid gesture of one arm, hand sweeping up on boneless wrist to wave away Ludovic's hand, as if he were a mildly interrupting waiter. "Rude," she mumbles, turning on him with hands out to either side as if to frame elegant skirts that are not there. Instead her white hands poise themselves artfully to either side of a pair of stockinged legs and the knee-length flare of a tunic several sizes too large for her, whose sleeves all but swallow her thumbs and the collar of which hangs askew over its horn toggles.
"What a terrible restaurant." She is asleep; this is readily apparent as she faces the two of them admonishingly, snowy hair in fluffy disarray around her face and all but worked out of its braid with all her tossing and turning.
After traveling with her for a while, it'd be impossible not to hear her talking in her sleep now and then.
Apparently, sleep-walking is one of those reasons that Myrana usually has an Elementi with her, or at least her attendant bodyguards Sam and Ravio.

"Rude?" Ludovic's voice gets a little louder. "IM RUDE?!" It’s more of a huff than an actual yell of anger. "You stood on.." It’s at about this point that he finally realises how weird she's being and his bluster flows away to be replaced by wary confusion. Eventually he tries a rather lame "Its a bit rustic." even as he seeks to find Ivo and attempt to ask 'what the hell is going on' with nothing but a look and a few eyebrow and mouth movements.

Ivo's initial adrenalin spike is starting to die off, and the fact that he's just woken up is starting to assert itself again, but he still has the brain power to recognise what's going on. He takes a moment to lift a hand to rub at his eyes, then turns to Ludovic and says simply, "she's asleep. It happens sometimes." As for what to do about it? Well, that he's less sure on, there's usually other people for that. "I seem to recall it's best not to touch her when she's like this," he says, sounding only partially convinced. Something about trying to gently coax her back to bed? If that fails we can try and wake her, but it often isn't needed." He pauses, glancing to his cousin then back to Ludovic, "I think."

"Well!" Myrana pulls a fan from her reticule (one of Ivo's stock cleaners, procured at some point before she woke either of them up. WHAT DID SHE GET INTO??) and waves it. "I am taking your guestbook, so I can read it," and there from the top of her saddle, she picks up the manuscript case she's kept with her at all hours. "And going."
And turning on a heel, she marches towards the horses.

Ludovic snorts. "You think there’s anyway I could coax her to bed without ending up with a knife in my ribs?" He gathers his weapon and stoops to gather up his misplaced cloaks. "She's already kicked me in the face once tonight. Your cousin." He starts back towards the fire, tugging the fur cloak about his shoulders as he moves. "Your problem." He's grumbling audibly under his breath before he gets five paces away.

Ivo eyes the case his cousin has, then Ludovic's retreating form. "I know what’s in there," he mutters as the d'Korbina moves away, "it's all our problem." Deciding that he doesn't want to prolong any kind of weirdness near that book he curses quietly to himself, draws his pistol, then calls a warning to the pickets before firing into the ground a few foot away from his feet. Birds that had previous been sleeping are suddenly awake and flying away as the sound echos for a few seconds before slowly dying away. "Cousin," he then calls, striding in her direction, "please tell me you're awake now." Please.

There's a bit of a moment before Myrana reappears, alarmed and quite awake, from over the top of the armour she'd dropped behind with her arms flinched over her head. The manuscript case crashed to the ground next to her.
"I-Ivo??" she peers out from cover, blue eyes wide and terrified. She's still got the pistol brush in her hand. "Wh-what the…" Looking around, she realizes that she's not in her bedroll.

Ivo has the decency to look apologetic at least, and given her reaction he stops moving until she reappears and is clearly awake. He holds out both hands briefly, to indicate that he's no longer armed, then steps towards her again. "You were about to ride off with that book," he offers by way of explanation, "I didn't want to risk not being able to convince you not to." Then, after a moment, "sorry I had to startle you." He eyes the case on the ground, but makes no move to pick it up himself. "Shall we go back to the fire? It's got rather cold out here."

Myrana straightens up, still rather bewildered but beginning to gather what's happened. Ivo's explanation draws the colour from her face and she looks down at the leather folio near her foot, then around the campsite, seeing the surging startled horses. But they are safely tied, and the warhorses settle with trained nerves, helping the plunging palfrey to gather its wits as well.
"I've gone through everyone's stuff looking for it," she says, swallowing. "I-I'm sorry, Ivo." She stoops to pick up the manuscript, and places it back inside her satchel as she crosses over to her cousin, fidgeting anxiously.
"Thank you for waking me. U-usually I've got Ouros with me," she looks up at her cousin with anxious eyes. "I assume he just sits on me. Here," she offers him the brush back. "I'd uh, I-I'd make sure I didn't hide anything in your bags."

"I can check the bags in the morning," Ivo replies, starting to gently steer their way back towards the camp, "when there's light. For now though, let’s get warm again, as it'll only be miserable if we go back to our bedrolls cold. For the record though, I'm not going to be sitting on you, and neither, I suspect, is Ludovic." He smiles a little at that last, the mental image is one that amuses him for a few moments it seems. Taking the brush he stows it carefully then slips his hands back inside his woollen cloak before asking, "have you tried reading any more of it?"

"Please don't let Ludovic sit on me," Myrana says, with the total horrified conviction that she probably deserves it. Not for sleepwalking. Just, karmically speaking. She knooowwws.
Following Ivo, she hunkers down at the fireside, shoving her hands into the sleeves of her tunic.
"A little," she says. "I'm nearly done translating it. It hasn't been affecting you still, has it?"

Ivo opts initially to be very close to the fire, figuring that he can move back a bit once the cold leaves his bones. "I'll try," he says, tilting his head towards the d'Korbina, "but I think you might have kicked him in the head while you were wandering. I suspect he'll've forgiven you by morning though." Toying with the idea of warming some wine he looks about for a suitable container to pour some into as he shakes his head to her question. "No, or at least, nothing new. Some of what I felt that night is still raw, but there's been no new.. experiences, if that makes sense. Is there anything in there of use to you?"

Myrana groans, covering her face with her hands. "Did it wake him up?" she moans.
Of course it woke him up.
Like Ivo, she's very susceptible to chill, and so she draws a cloak up around her from the pack she left here by the fire and pulls it around herself, shivering. The beaver lining embraces her with a velvety sound and she draws her legs up inside it, feet freezing despite the thick woollen riding stockings she wears. "Fff! Ugh!"
After some adjusting, she turns to peer at him from under the hood, bangs fluffing out every which way. "It's going to lead me to an artefact, or I think it might, called the Darius Eye."
Leaning forward, she pierces him with an intent gaze. "Ivo… have you tried using your magic?"

"It woke him up," Ivo confirms, "and his reaction woke me up. Like I said though, I don't suspect he'll hold it against you long-term." Spotting a wine bottle close by he scoots over to pick it up, then holds it close enough o the fire that it should warm up, just a shame he doesn't have any mulling spices to hand. "I recall you mentioning the Eye," he says, keeping his eyes on the wine to make sure it doesn't overheat, "has it helped yet? Or is that something you can only answer when you've completed the translation?" Magic books are all new to him, so he has to ask, which is a tad frustrating, but he's a big lad and can cope. As for her question he's silent for a moment, staring into the flames before he shakes his head. "No. Not since the boat race. It's been hard, at times, when those visions are overwhelming, but so far I've been able to keep it suppressed."

"Well, the book is like a riddle. I'm puzzling it out." She laces her fingers together, dropping her eyes as she does so. "…You know, I don't really know if it will help us with the monsters. But I need to finish it."
For a long while, she seems to simmer with something, keeping her thoughts to herself. But they all but burst out at the seams; she leaves off warming her frozen hands to turn the heavy bracelets still on her arms under her sleeves, chewing her lip.
"Ludovic thinks it’s safer to use it, and embrace it," she finally offers. "If you wanted, er… I would be willing to watch your back, if you wanted to practice with it."

"If there's anything I can do to help with the decoding," Ivo replies, still watching the liquid in the bottle to make sure it doesn't boil. "I mean, I don't know if I know enough to be of any use, and I don't have any particular desire to read it myself," or even be particularly near it if he's honest, "but if there is anything…" As Myrana quietens he feels no need to speak, the silence is companionable for him, not awkward, but her mention of Ludovic has him turning towards her. "He's also convinced that the inquisition are watching him for any sign of a slipup though," he says warningly, "that somehow present-day Darius forced him into using his sorcery in the open and now it's only a matter of time before they come for him. How is that safer?" His voice is quiet, keeping the volume low so it shouldn't carry, but there is an earnestness about it. "I've survived this long by keeping it hidden, why risk that.. that.." the smell of burning flesh fills his nostrils again and he visibly shudders before turning back to the fire and taking a drink of the warmed wine.

"But…" Myrana tries to argue, but her misgivings are written all over her face. "I don't really want to use mine either. It's frightening. But you should try to use it a little, Ivo. Just enough that when you need it it's not so strange to you."

"It's terrifying," Ivo admits, although he's talking about the threat of the inquisition, not magic itself. "If the Crown viewed it like the Vir Sidus do then I'd be happy to learn, to put it to use, but they don't. I remember the hysteria when it first broke out, we had to try and stop mobs of scared people from lynching anyone who seemed a little odd in Lyionesse." He takes another swig of wine, pushing back the memories of the times they were too late. "Convince me," he starts, looking back to her intently, "convince me it's safer to use it, and perhaps. Until then though, I'm going to keep surviving the only way I know how."

Myrana meets Ivo's gaze and holds it silently. Thinking, and considering her cousin.
"Because," she says, finally, and in her quiet smoky little voice; "Sooner or later, you're going to run into one of those creatures, out there." She gestures out into the dark and hissing wind in the pines. "And it's going to smell the magic in you, Ivo."

Well there's a cheery thought guaranteed to provide a good night's sleep. It's clear from the way his expression changes that Ivo has no strong desire to run into a vampire, but the idea of a monster like that being able to single him out is on an entirely different level. He has no answer, and he knows he has no answer. Turning his head away he looks to the ground for a few moments then pushes himself to his feet. Wine bottle firmly clenched in his hand he walks a few paces away, trying to collect his thoughts given that new revelation.

It is… a grim fact.
Myrana gives Ivo his space, her own face hidden in the fluff of her hair and the soft bristle of beaver lining her thick cloak. A soft clinking comes from her sleeve as she diverts her nerves into turning her bracelets.
But finally she gets up and pads after him, stopping quietly a little ways behind him.
"Wouldn't you rather they were afraid of you?" She asks in a low voice. "You have a weapon, Ivo. It's either going to be used by you, or against you."

Ivo takes a long swig of the wine, then hugs the bottle to his chest, using it as a heat source while it's still warm. "I'd rather still be in Lyoniesse, without any magic, or monsters," he replies, only then turning around to look at his cousin again. "I am, we are, some form of abomination. I don't know why us, if there's a reason or if it's just dumb luck, but if I release that, if I call on it, even for a noble reason.. " He trails off, thoughts still clearly not ordered or collected yet.

Myrana wraps her arms around herself within the cloak, looking at her feet in misery. It's clear that the same conflict is eating at her, between Faith and nature. Like most the D'Armaz, Myrana is devout.
She draws a ragged breath, and reaches up out of her cloak to wipe at her face.
"You're right," she says. "I feel like, it leaps out of me when I'm angry, or afraid. And it feels…" She trails off, only to veer sharply away from the subject of the rush that comes with casting, or losing control and giving into magic. "I'm going to learn as much as I can. Maybe we can seal it back up, like Darius did. I don't know."

"You think that might be something related to the eye?" Ivo asks, "how he locked it away?" He steps closer to Myrana. If it hadn't been for her warning about touching in emotional situations he might even have folded her into a hug for comfort, but he keeps his arms under his cloak, wrapped tight around the wine bottle. "What about the Academy? Is anyone there looking at how to seal it up again, or is it just people working on honing their powers? I know I might not have seen much of it, but it seemed like the latter."

"I don't know. The Eye… I had a dream about it," she admits, reluctantly. "Five years ago. It was strange, but I have been looking for it ever since. For all I know, it's something terrible. Or it might be simply knowledge. Whatever it is," she glances at the satchel where the manuscript folio is tucked. "Those visions are strange. Perhaps the Eye lets one look into the past." She finally shudders and lifts her face to look up at Ivo. "But if it's an evil thing, we'll destroy it." This, with utter conviction.
"I am going to use the Academy to gather information on monsters," she says. "That's what I want to do; I want to kill them. I've been writing down what I know, collecting as much intelligence as I can."
"Perhaps we can get to know the other students better, and find out what their researches are."
Myrana shivers. "But for now, I'm going to try to sleep. And hope Ludovic doesn't roll me down the hill when he wakes up."

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