paradisa | twelfth ;

Entry tags:

krasus

twelfth ;

[Galadriel]

If you have the time and the inclination, I would like to propose an... exchange of sorts. I have something else to discuss with you as well.

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[Krasus is in the garden despite the sunlight. It's California-hot and he didn't even take off his cloak. Good luck trying to get him to dress down for /anything/.

Someone trampled the snapdragons recently and they need some love. Krasus is happy enough to oblige. He conjures a miniature cloud, complete with tiny misty rain, and waves it across the flowerbed.]

[ooc: durp durp open post.]

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[you aren't the only one fiddling around in the gardens, krasus! but she's totally getting up and setting down her shovel when she sees that]

Huh. That's handy.

[He doesn't really give a damn about hiding his magic anymore. He is, after all, a dragon-mage-- and it's only the dragon part that causes problems. He lifts his head at the sound of her voice, long ears twitching faintly.]

There is often a price for convenience.

Yeah? [not that she's not familiar with that concept; a water jutsu would take chakra to perform ... that's what she's guessing he means. some kind of energy] What's the price for that, then?

One cannot nurture a flower with enchanted water alone. It requires good soil and adequate light. [The raincloud dissipates, and he crosses his arms.] People are much the same. Conjured food and water is acceptable in emergencies, but it is hardly fulfilling and excessively saccharine.

[... well. a little laugh, there - she likes that answer] Well, I wasn't expecting that. A lot of people who use magic think it can do everything, after all.

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You have intrigued me. What manner of exchange, pray tell?

I have more time than I thought, and I would like to know more of your world: specifically, I would like to learn the language of the elves. I can offer you Azeroth's equivalent, should you be interested.

[Fortunately, Galadriel is a bit of a language nut, so she actually sounds extremely pleased.]

It would interest me greatly. I will tell you, in my world there is not one elven tongue but two. The first is Quenya, my mother-tongue and one forgotten by most, save for a few ceremonial phrases. The second is Sindarin, the language spoken by most of my kind- not my native language, but that of my husband and of our child.

Ah, my learning begins! [He's kind of... nerdishly excited too. omg old people seriously.] I suspect that Sindarin would be most practical were I to greet your kin.

There are two main elven tongues on my world as well: ancient Darnassian, that of the night elves; and Thalassian, the language of the high elves. The languages have their similarities, but the elves are divided by more than culture now.

It would.

"High Elves" is a term we use also, though I know we likely speak of different subjects, but the term "night elf" is new to me.

Galadriel; AND THEN 'THE MIRROR OF GALADRIEL' COMES ON ITUNES THANKS.

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Krasus

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Galadriel;

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Galadriel;

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[Sheena is also in the gardens, wearing the new kimono that she had delivered to her room at the castle. This is how Sheena prefers to look feminine--when she has to. Not like a streetwalker. The moment she had seen it, she changed into it quickly, styled her hair in a traditional upswept hairstyle, and slipping on her tabi and zori, had made her way down into the garden.

It may have been hot, but the heat isn't bothering her at all as she makes her way along one of the paths, her shoes barely making a sound with each step. Seeing the cloud move out of the corner of her eye and what it was actually doing, she smiled softly at the one responsible.]

You have remarkable skill.

[Yep. Impressed with the skill--not the ability.]

[His ears twitch in her direction, but he doesn't look up until he's addressed. There's a discerning pause before he answers, and she would definitely feel like she's being looked at-- or rather, through. Krasus is not your typical garden gnome.]

If only I had enough to leave this place, [he says bitterly.] The flowers do not object to company, however.

[Yeah, that isn't a good feeling to have. It reminds her of how she had been treated back home. Thanks for ruining her good mood with just one look after she had complimented you.]

No, I suppose they don't. [But he obviously does, so she's just going to continue past him--unless she's got it wrong.]

[He doesn't mean to be an asshole! HE'S JUST REALLY OLD AND KIND OF ANCIENT and he could probably play chess against Maxwell... And yes, he canonically rubs people the wrong way all the time. He's not very good at first impressions.

... Still, that was rather cold of her, and he actually faces her now.]

Is something the matter?

[He could probably play chess against all the Spirits--considering their extreme age...but that's beside the point.

His response made her feel like he didn't think she was worth responding to and only did so because he felt he had to out of sheer politeness. So what he perceived as coldness was actually hurt.]

I...just got the impression that you'd rather be alone.

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[Sup, Pappa-dragon what;re you doing there?]

That's a pretty neat trick. [Buuut] Aren't you really hot with that cloak on?

[Watering the plants. In style. He spins the cloud around with a gesture of his fingers, like a puppeteer more than a magician.]

I find it comfortable. The shrine of my flight is warm and humid, much like a dense rainforest. This form does get cold easily, but that is neither here nor there.

Have you fared well, young one?

Oh really? That kind of sucks, I guess that's the price you pay for not being humongous.

Me? I'm just fine. Everything's calmed down after the whole camp thing.

Being able to walk through doorways is very convenient.

[The cloud dissolves. The flowers are not completely satisfied, however... He reaches out and touches the leaves, inspecting them while he talks.] I am not too eager to lose control over my shapeshifting again.

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Oh it sure is. That and, you know, all the shelter the castle gives.

...And the kitchen.

I dunno, man. Paradisa likes taking away important things.

[Yuan is scoping out possible venues for a wedding, and this looks like the most promising, especially considering who he's going to marry.

A ripple of magic gets his attention, and he wanders over to see an elf watering the flowers with magic.

A stray memory crosses his mind and makes him chuckle.]

...A little Earth mana to the soil might help them more, if you're able.

[He looks up, his expression faintly curious.] Could you perhaps clarify the term 'earth mana'?

[Also, you are not the first blue-haired half-elf he's met. Now he kind of misses Kalecgos and his petulant attitude.]

I'm not sure. [He waves a hand idly through the air as he searches for words.] Where I come from, mana comes in eight different elemental types, of which Earth is one. Earth mana nourishes the ground and helps plants to grow.

But I'm not sure it works the same way on your world. [Azeroth, probably? He thought he caught a glimpse of epic eyebrows under that hood.]

I see... [He is curious about this! He's never heard schools of magic classified like that before.] On my world, earth magic is that of deep, warm places-- the subtle but powerful force that shapes the land.

[Krasus reaches out to examine the blossoms. His slender left hand is missing the last two fingers. Deformed as he is, it seems like the leaves ache to touch his hand.

Or maybe it's just Yuan's imagination.]

A different sort, then. I wonder, if an elf were here from my world, if you'd be able to learn one another's magic. I don't have as much range of capability myself, of course.

[It's probably his imagination. Plants don't do that.

Then again, he remembers Aerith saying something about them being grateful to him back when Yuan was the one watering them, so who knows? Elves are weird. This one must be a warrior, or at least have led quite an interesting life.]