Okay, this wasn't anything like she had seen before when it came to rooms. Taleenya keeps her cap on, pulled down to hide her ear points.
She does take note of the thirteen places to sit, but stays standing, taking note of all the details, including the flowers, which she had never seen any of its kind before.
"Hello? Anyone here?" She hazarded, her hand tempting to go for the knife at her hip, despite the 'coziness' of the place, she felt uneasy about it. "I think there may be a mistake here, if you were trying for my Master I think you cast your spell wrong? I'm just the messenger." She hoped her voice didn't crack at least. "Though if you wish me to relay a message to him, I'll be glad to do so. Just put me back near Kendermore and I'll head back home right away."
Thirteen. Thirteen. Wherever she looks, thirteen. Surely that holds some significance.
"I have just the right person, miss Flyleaf. And I'm afraid I can't send you back to Kendermore yet." She blinks, and Taleenya suddenly sees in one chair a man dressed in traditional elven funerary wear from Krynn. He looks... sickly, bony, in the way only an avatar of Death can. But he does not seem hostile, nor threatening in any way. He simply goes about pouring himself a drink.
She can only think of one thing it pertains to, the fortune cards that Seers use in the traveling caravans back home.
Though hearing her name, she tenses, no one's called her that since her naming day. Seeing the figure, though, she stays back a moment wary, after all he wasn't there a moment before. When he makes the offer she eases more. Someone who is threatening wouldn't offer anything, right?
"How do you know that name? I, I barely use it." She nods, "If, it's no bother, do you have black currant tea? If not water's fine."
The man gestures, and a cup of steaming black currant tea appears on the coffee table, a rich cherry wood carefully carved with flowers, though a pair of water rings on the tabletop mar the surface a little bit. However the tea is the perfect drinking temperature when tested.
"Miss Flyleaf, then," he answers, adding, "We know a great deal about you Travelers, or at least, have access to information about you. I doubt Pendu knows or cares about names the way I might."
She listened, and could smell the tea. "Thank you." She said as she took a seat near him.
"Traveller? I mean yes, I am but, this is not where I was intended on going." She held the cup in both hands. "And you are a keeper of names then?" She didn't take a sip yet, though the warmth of it helped calm her.
He seems rather pleased that she sat next to him - he's been about 50/50 so far on Chosen that like him, so this is a pleasant change of pace. "I'm afraid you can go to where you intended, at least not yet. Not until the round is finished."
He summons up a cup of tea for himself, taking a small sip with blue lips before explaining, "I am an Arcana. I am one of seventeen who are competing for the World. I am Death, the Thirteenth of our number. But I have taken the name Mortimer for this round of Synodiporia - that is to say, the tournament we are competing in."
He hasn't seemed threatening, even if he had startled her. Though the news that she can't get to where she was supposed to go has her frown a little.
"I'm still a child, even by my race, are you sure that you want me to compete for you?" She was guessing that was why she was there. "Not that I don't like games, I don't have time for them like I used to."
"I understand. And I am saddened by it. But there are younger children. Twelve, ten. Even eight, once. Thankfully the babe is exempt from this." He sighs, dolefully. "I cannot return you home until this tournament is complete. But some of us would... make it difficult for me to send you home, should they win instead. Or impossible, in one case."
She takes in this information and watches his face. She may not be able to read intentions too clearly, it's still something she struggles with, but he seems sincere with his words, and the sadness he shows mentioning that there are younger children there.
"Then the objective is to make sure you win, or someone else sympathetic to us?" She holds the cup of tea in both hands pondering it.
"That's the idea," Mortimer answers simply, his hands resting around his own teacup as if finding some warmth in it. "I would prefer a win, you understand, but I would not be opposed if one of the others won. The ones to watch out for are Pendu, Abaddon, PSYCHE or Miss Arrows, and MALBOLGE. You might hear them referred to as Hanged Man, Tower, Lovers, and Devil respectively. PSYCHE has already been knocked out of the running, but that does not mean she won't help MALBOLGE win."
He takes a sip, before adding, "There is another - LUNE, Moon. I am unsure where to categorize her."
She listened mulling it over. "Now I'm wishing I paid more attention to divining cards, though I take it those five, maybe six would be dangerous to have win?"
"Indeed. At least, dangerous for you Travelers." His eyebrow raises, more out of a morbid amusement. "Only two of them would be dangerous to my person. The others are more of a nuisance."
"That is all I can ask you to do," Mortimer answers with a smile that, while warm, still seems just a bit too skull-like on his gaunt features. "Thank you, miss Flyleaf. You've been most understanding."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Re: XIII.
She does take note of the thirteen places to sit, but stays standing, taking note of all the details, including the flowers, which she had never seen any of its kind before.
"Hello? Anyone here?" She hazarded, her hand tempting to go for the knife at her hip, despite the 'coziness' of the place, she felt uneasy about it. "I think there may be a mistake here, if you were trying for my Master I think you cast your spell wrong? I'm just the messenger." She hoped her voice didn't crack at least. "Though if you wish me to relay a message to him, I'll be glad to do so. Just put me back near Kendermore and I'll head back home right away."
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"I have just the right person, miss Flyleaf. And I'm afraid I can't send you back to Kendermore yet." She blinks, and Taleenya suddenly sees in one chair a man dressed in traditional elven funerary wear from Krynn. He looks... sickly, bony, in the way only an avatar of Death can. But he does not seem hostile, nor threatening in any way. He simply goes about pouring himself a drink.
"Would you like anything?"
no subject
Though hearing her name, she tenses, no one's called her that since her naming day. Seeing the figure, though, she stays back a moment wary, after all he wasn't there a moment before. When he makes the offer she eases more. Someone who is threatening wouldn't offer anything, right?
"How do you know that name? I, I barely use it." She nods, "If, it's no bother, do you have black currant tea? If not water's fine."
no subject
The man gestures, and a cup of steaming black currant tea appears on the coffee table, a rich cherry wood carefully carved with flowers, though a pair of water rings on the tabletop mar the surface a little bit. However the tea is the perfect drinking temperature when tested.
"Miss Flyleaf, then," he answers, adding, "We know a great deal about you Travelers, or at least, have access to information about you. I doubt Pendu knows or cares about names the way I might."
no subject
She listened, and could smell the tea. "Thank you." She said as she took a seat near him.
"Traveller? I mean yes, I am but, this is not where I was intended on going." She held the cup in both hands. "And you are a keeper of names then?" She didn't take a sip yet, though the warmth of it helped calm her.
no subject
He summons up a cup of tea for himself, taking a small sip with blue lips before explaining, "I am an Arcana. I am one of seventeen who are competing for the World. I am Death, the Thirteenth of our number. But I have taken the name Mortimer for this round of Synodiporia - that is to say, the tournament we are competing in."
no subject
He hasn't seemed threatening, even if he had startled her. Though the news that she can't get to where she was supposed to go has her frown a little.
"I'm still a child, even by my race, are you sure that you want me to compete for you?" She was guessing that was why she was there. "Not that I don't like games, I don't have time for them like I used to."
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"Then the objective is to make sure you win, or someone else sympathetic to us?" She holds the cup of tea in both hands pondering it.
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He takes a sip, before adding, "There is another - LUNE, Moon. I am unsure where to categorize her."
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