Scene #474:

Owner	Pose
Ainsley	It is not often that Ainsley has much going for her that is surprisingly and different. This one is a bit of a doozy, though. Because standing inside the perimeter of the bone fence around the fire station is the Quetzal woman, only grown a good two feet taller and with blue eyes instead of red. She also seems leaps and bounds healthier, happily examining the very dutiful job that Inga has done with the ward around their remote base of operations. She pauses to look at a zombie as it shambles by, evidently not interested in her at all. She seems surprised by the sight but the tension only lasts for a second.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga has made her spot at the firestation as home-like as possible. Within the building she has made herself a corner that is mostly her space. Around her bed many herbs are tied together, hanging from the wall to dry, various bones, feathers, rocks and other charms sit on a table she's been using as a work space. There is a large metal mixing bowl she has been using for blood when she needs it, painfully missing all the tools from home she'd so lovingly kept clean and neat. At least she had her seax and her sickle knife, along with her augery runes. Those she always kept on her person. An interesting smell drifts from the windows, burning sage, the menthol smell oh camphor, the scent of dried blood and bone dust. Inga looks up from where she is muddling an herb with a smooth stone in a small bowl, grumbling about her mortar and pestle back home. She looks up suddenly, something prickling her senses, and moves to the window. Inga looks down, spotting Ainsley. "Ah, Ainsley. Come on up then. Have you brought anything to eat by any chance?" she asks, waving her up. She has not yet noticed the height difference, nor the eyes, being so far away and at least for the moment, above her.
Ainsley	Ainsley looks up at the window, her lightly feathered brows perking at the remark given from Inga. The lack of surprise... well, surprises Ainsley. Quite a few people have reacted more strongly to the change, so she almost expected a funny noise from the time-displaced seer woman. A smile appeared on Ainsley's face, and then she spoke up at Inga, "One moment, I'll be right up!" She doesn't answer whether she has food or not, instead striding around the building to the outer staircase. Her tail wiggles behind her, and her gait is much faster than before. Her steps aren't quite as rapid-sounding on the steps, and then she's opening the door and carefully shutting it behind herself, being very mindful of her own tail. She reaches into her robes and produces a sandwich wrapped in white paper! She approaches Inga and hands it over to her, seeming friendly and happy to see Inga today. "You're just the person I wanted to see this evening. I wanted to ask you for some advice on life...err... blood magic." The awkward pause barely made her stumble.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga ceases crushing the herb and sets down her stone, looking up as Ainsley arrives. And UP. For just a moment her eyes widen, then she sighs heavily. "You are taller. Much taller. Why is this?" she asks, then moves closer, reaching up to take Ainsley's face between her hands and turn her head side to side if she will allow. "Your eyes as well. You're bubbling like a hotsprings, what's happened?" she asks, stepping back. A pause, a blink. "Well, which is it? Life of blood magic?" she asks with a small smile. She's got a feeling its both. Inga takes the sandwich gratefully, examining the paper for a moment before carefully unwrapping it and setting it aside. Then, she takes a bite. "I cannot believe how this age uses paper so casually--nor that it is made from trees! How strange," she says, shaking her head. She's obviously quite hungry. "Well it seems you've a story to tell first," she comments, motioning for Ainsley to start talking while she eats.
Ainsley	An awkward smile crept across Ainsley's face when she saw that look of 'wow you are tall' as a result of the shyness she has about the change. She doesn't back away, though, the smile fading for a little curiosity in return for Inga's own. She really does feel like she's generating her own mana, and a hefty sum of it for a mortal creature. If that even fits for her anymore. Ainsley decides to take a seat, so that she can explain what happened. "I have an artifact. It gives me the power to see into... someone's soul. Into who they are, beyond skin and blood. I was using it to try to gaze into the soul of an enemy soldier, a General by the name of Beatrix. A strong woman whose being resisted the attempt. So I pushed harder. And then /my/ soul broke free of what was hindering it. It drew out a hidden potential that I am eager to explore, and yet have no understanding of." She pauses for a beat. "I retained my power over the magic of storms, but I also gained the ability to do what my people know naturally: Life Magic. It's the same as blood magic in my world, it just depends on who is looking at it and from what angle. I like Life Magic better." She sniffs, evidently ready to defend her preference, though not against Inga. "It may have similarities to what you do... I only have an interest in the art of healing, for now."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga listens quietly, her expression one of plain interest. The sorts of things she was saying, so casually...heh. Those were not claims one made easily. Certainly, as a seer and wise woman she'd made such claims...but she'd had a reputation where she was from that took many years to build. The sandwich is gone. Inga wipes crumbs from the soft wool of her dress. "Into the soul, mmm? Not so different from the powers of a prophetess I suppose...you can at least see what is, if not what is Becoming," she comments, tapping her foot thoughtfully. "I must wonder what I must look like--myself and the others who were chosen," she comments, then gestures vaguely. "Life magic. Blood magic. Blood is life," she says, not about to argue about terminology. It makes no difference to her if some people are...squeemish. "I could teach you much about healing, though I use more than blood. I use that primarily in the heat of the moment now, as since I've come...here...things are very different. The Honey, mm? You've heard their voice," she continues. Inga crosses her arms then, thoughtful. "I can teach you, if you are willing. A gift for a gift must be given though. Would you agree to teach me the control over the elements? I know it can be done by someone like me, but I hardly know where to begin."
Ainsley	Ainsley realizes it might be a hard thing to swallow, and that she probably made it seem more dramatic than she should've. She reaches up to ruffle her own feathers, again embarrassed by that much. Once they move on from the details of the transformation to something more productive, the lizard woman perks up, complete with a puff of her feathers. It looks a bit like a cockatiel's reaction to a sound. "Oh, yes. I could teach you how to throw lightning. The environment you have been brought to has an abundance of it and you could have a knack for it." 'Because you're a viking,' the lizard woman carefully avoids mentioning, complete with the glimmer of an awkward and mirthful look down at her own toes. "Then it's agreed. I teach you to bend lightning, and you teach me how to heal wounds." And then, quite abruptly, she reaches over with one arm to try to hug Inga around the shoulders. It's a friendly sort of gesture, that Ainsley quickly realizes might be a bit much, recoiling from her own affectionate attempt and mumbling an apology, whether or not she got a reaction from it.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga had quite a rough start here, and there are still many things that she is still coming to terms with. As others have said though, she's doing better than they'd expect many in her situation to have done. Her connection with the supernatural all of her life has more or less at least tried to prepare her for these changes, even if she could never have imagined where she finds herself now. Inga is resourceful, and she has a mission here. She will make do with all the strangeness. It is rather intriguing, really. Just watching Ainsley's body language, the mixture of human and animal, is such a thing of wonder. "Mmm I do hope you are right. It seems I am in need of a bit more in the way of offensive ability. I'm no shield-maiden," she comments wryly. The woman blinks then at the embrace, but returns the hug with a smile, running a finger over one of the feathers. "So curious..." she says, then shakes her head. Inga reaches for her staff, using it to pull herself to her feet again and check on her herb preperation, lips pursing. "Well, I think perhaps you should tell me a bit more of what you know about healing and blood magic, so I know where I should begin."
Ainsley	Ains isn't quite aware of the very thoughtful reaction she's getting out of Inga. If she knew, she'd probably a much harder time maintaining her composure. The oddity of her feathers gets a momentary glance, confused by what she could mean, until a hand goes up to touch her own feathers. "I do seem strange to you, don't I...?" Pleased with how well they're getting along and excited to get started, she answers with plenty of energy, "Oh, almost nothing, really!" A beat. She smiles awkwardly again. "I understand that there's a power of life in the blood of living beings, and that it carries a glimmer of their thoughts or emotions. The kind of emotion that ghosts cling onto, though, not anything complex." She breathes a sigh. "I suppose it can be used to seer-related magic, but that is beyond me and I am not sure if I could manage." She then thinks for a moment. She holds up her finger, pulling one of her daggers. She carefully nicks one of her own fingers with the blade, wincing, and placing the dagger back where it was. Then she concentrates. A glimmer of red energy surrounds the minor cut... and then it closes, healing as if it were never there in the first place, even the blood drawing back into it. It is fairly similar, but it is a very minor application of the magic. "Does that help?" she wonders at Inga.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga smiles, tossing her snowy braid over her shoulder. "Oh, I think most of us are rather strange to each other--though I must say yours is one I can accept much more easily. It is known that the spirits of the land have many forms, some resemble animals, some plants, some small beings rather like us...all manner of things, though not all can see them as they actually are. That takes a gift--and training," she explains. She is so far resisting the urge to ask for a feather, as that would probably be like Ainsley asking for a lock of her hair. Rather intimate. Though what a charm it would make, she is sure! A witch must be careful of these things. At her admission of knowing close to nothing, Inga responds patiently. "That is all well, it means you will not have to unlearn anything before doing it correctly," she comments, then watches her nick her finger, using the blood drawn to heal the wound. Inga does something similar, though her own rapid healing would take care of a wound such as that quite easily. "Well, do you have accelerated healing powers? If not, I would be careful using your own blood too much--don't do what I do," which is more or less stab herself willy nilly because she knows she will quickly heal. "I can teach you things that do not require too much blood. You must learn the runes if you have not already, as well as the magical staves," she says, reaching for her own knife. "Other things, well, you can use the blood of others as well," she says. Inga then rolls up her sleeve and draws a line up her inner arm, the blood welling quickly. She sets her knifs down and touches her fingers to the blood, motioning Ainsley over. "I will show you a stave for healing. This mark can be used to cleanse the blood of poison. It is most effective when combined with the right herbs, and best if the blood is boiled over a flame first. You must apply the mark on the torso, just here," she says, indicating just below her ribs. For the time being though, since it is just practice, Inga merely draws the symbol upon the surface of the table.
Ainsley	What is the deal with people calling her a spirit these days? Ainsley isn't surprised anymore, just a little weirded out by the definition. She laughs as Inga finishes her explaining about how spirits look, figuring that there are quite a few beings like that back at Burnt Earth. It's a familiar idea. She looks down at the arm as it is held up. The lizard girl shakes her head once at the 'healing powers' part, smiling warily at the idea. She would prefer not to experience much physical damage so requiring something like that perturbs her enough to be visible on her face. However, when she sees Inga easily slice a line to draw blood from and make a symbol with, the lizard girl looks down with a faint fascination... She reaches out with a hand, and her hand glows with a red and black aura, the blood reacting with one of its own. "Doesn't feel any different than normal blood," she remarks, and then she pulls her hand away. The blood symbol remains glowing for a good minute afterward, imbued with excess mana from her proximity to it. She stares at it distractedly. "Magic focused with runes and staves..." she murmurs to herself, as if taking a mental note.
Inga Freyjasdottir	"Mmm, you will want to be careful then. You cannot go flinging blood around, cutting yourself all over. You will scar--or die," she adds, as if this is an afterthought. Inga looks down at the symbol, lips pursing slightly. "Strange, how everything having to do with magic here seem to glow--people just expect it to," she comments. The way she learned it, magic didn't glow. Magic was subtle. Things, obviously, have changed. Inga looks back up toward Ainsley, thoughtful. "Mmm, well, I used the blood for magic before the Buzzing, if I could do it then I can teach it to you now--and there is something to be said for a bit of creativity," she says with a smile. "You are brimming with the energy, I feel it humming--yelling, more like. Is it stronger in this place? With the anima wells nearby?" she asks. Look at her, using new terms! She's a bit proud of herself. "You can infuse symbols with your blood--as well as objects I think. That should make it so you need to use less--then of course, for some things you will need a lot. I would hope we can find suitable sacrifices once /this/" a sweeping gesture follows, "is all sorted." "Now, why don't you try to draw the symbol I've showed you," she offers. Inga's own wound has already healed itself, nothing but a smear of blood on her arm now.