RE: [IC] Swords Beneath the Starlight
05-18-2020, 01:12 AM
Huh. It's strange, that Lysistrate seems bothered only by her presence. It's enough to prompt Mazelina's brow to furrow, a frown curling her lips downwards. Of course, if the girl was bothered by her merely being around, running off to check on her wouldn't do any good.
![[Image: 3d7536e4f5beb36d98c0c3771e532b75ff498a00.png]](https://66.media.tumblr.com/703d70d026cf70487651991bae820162/fb50a18c416dde00-4e/s250x400/3d7536e4f5beb36d98c0c3771e532b75ff498a00.png)
"I am...not sure what that was about, but someone should go after her that...isn't me." It's clear the woman is bothered, what by the stiff hold of her shoulders, and she watches Barnabas go with that same frown, sighing.
Baylee, at least, tries to break the ice a bit. That's nice.
![[Image: 609122be2c04697b63a949860609006cb6ede7a9.png]](https://66.media.tumblr.com/ebae0ff526592d984c3dcb3bedddc2b2/fb50a18c416dde00-14/s250x400/609122be2c04697b63a949860609006cb6ede7a9.png)
"Perhaps I do. Or...something. I thought we worshipped the same Goddess, but perhaps it's my...background that discomforts her."
----
When Lain speaks, Mazelina listens. Her expression is soft and neutral, and she clasps her hands in front of her, proper and nodding her head. When Lain writes herself off, Maz shakes her head, quick to counter.
![[Image: 0f6eeecabafbe2078fe398b5b2cf4c69891d3adf.png]](https://66.media.tumblr.com/272ab692ae348eb7fb0dcac0c830d7e9/fb50a18c416dde00-27/s250x400/0f6eeecabafbe2078fe398b5b2cf4c69891d3adf.png)
"Hardly, I assure you. Touting around a legendary sword of the Goddess is impressive, even with its grim history. Thank you." The request to tell her own story has has stiffening again, drawing in a low breath.
"A story of my life...well. I grew up with the church. My mother and father lauded it and all of the teachings of the Goddess in all of her Goodness and Greatness. All of my schooling, teaching me to read, to write, to paint, to make music, to carve wood-- it was all for the Goddess. I remember..." She trails off, a smile coming to her face. "I remember waking up early one morning to my mother at the edge of my bed. Brushing my hair away from my face, and telling me it was time for breakfast. She liked to make these little...pies." With her hands, Mazelina makes a round shape, laughing quietly before continuing, "so small, even I could hold. I told her I loved them *so* much, and they were my favourite, and she decided then and there that we would throw away the day's lessons and teach me to make those tiny pies instead."
With that, she clears her throat, straightening up and clasping her hands again.
"I liked to fill mine with fruits. My father liked them savoury. It's...been quite a while since I've seen the ingredients to cook much of anything, but there you have it."
"I am...not sure what that was about, but someone should go after her that...isn't me." It's clear the woman is bothered, what by the stiff hold of her shoulders, and she watches Barnabas go with that same frown, sighing.
Baylee, at least, tries to break the ice a bit. That's nice.
"Perhaps I do. Or...something. I thought we worshipped the same Goddess, but perhaps it's my...background that discomforts her."
----
When Lain speaks, Mazelina listens. Her expression is soft and neutral, and she clasps her hands in front of her, proper and nodding her head. When Lain writes herself off, Maz shakes her head, quick to counter.
"Hardly, I assure you. Touting around a legendary sword of the Goddess is impressive, even with its grim history. Thank you." The request to tell her own story has has stiffening again, drawing in a low breath.
"A story of my life...well. I grew up with the church. My mother and father lauded it and all of the teachings of the Goddess in all of her Goodness and Greatness. All of my schooling, teaching me to read, to write, to paint, to make music, to carve wood-- it was all for the Goddess. I remember..." She trails off, a smile coming to her face. "I remember waking up early one morning to my mother at the edge of my bed. Brushing my hair away from my face, and telling me it was time for breakfast. She liked to make these little...pies." With her hands, Mazelina makes a round shape, laughing quietly before continuing, "so small, even I could hold. I told her I loved them *so* much, and they were my favourite, and she decided then and there that we would throw away the day's lessons and teach me to make those tiny pies instead."
With that, she clears her throat, straightening up and clasping her hands again.
"I liked to fill mine with fruits. My father liked them savoury. It's...been quite a while since I've seen the ingredients to cook much of anything, but there you have it."