Scene #7120: Dead on the Shores of Tir Na Nog

Owner	Pose
Lilian Rook	Today it's a bit of an exciting occasion. Or at least an unusual one. Not even a couple of days after a full night of surprisingly domestic activities, and meeting 'the night shift', as Lilian endearingly calls them, the same young lady dares the boundary to the guest room slash shrine for the purposes of risking bothering the resident kitsune slash bunrei awake at a crack o'clock hour, when the sun is barely just starting to rise, in that dead silent, slightly eerie twilight when the nocturnal has settled down and the diurnal has yet to quite rise. According to her, it's because the familiars that belong to the household in general have reported back an incursion over the boundary line around the protected territory, followed by immediate termination by the winter spirits Tamamo had experienced once before, indeed upholding the pact that protects their uneasily shared land. Since it's purely on private property, and no kind of official mission whatsoever, that means full rights to the remains belong to the family, and specifically since Lilian is the first one up, hers. She already has proper outerwear on, in fact. Dark greens and greys that she almost never picks as her colour, yet work surprisingly well. A lighter button down coat than for december, certainly, though it's still chilly enough this early to warrant one for comfort, even if dispensing with earmuffs. The fact that she's dressed already of course has nothing to do with how early she got up or how long ago the notification was. It could have been seconds ago, for all it matters. It probably was. This maximizes the amount of time Tamamo has to get ready for going outside, along a path there'd only be occasion to walk once before, and that time backwards. Out to the faint pink of the sun crawling over the horizon, the brisk air, the long shadows, the snow having retreated to the shadows of trees but the night having left a dusting of frost on most everything. Along winding grounds paths out past currently colourless gardens and cold gates, over increasingly wild grass on rough, old stone roads, and into the wall of white and brown mottled forest, just starting to bud green, through the specific, improbable arch of two birch trees that have grown into and twined together. Though, once inside, under a tangled lace of crisscrossing canopy shadows, without thick leaves to block out the faint sunlight, it's a different set of paths entirely. The opportunities to take a split in the road are far apart, usually to avoid steep knifepoint rises or old collapses that have grown over into an impenetrable tangle, but also split around large stones or over creeks. Going alternative ways, the paths become much easier to spot, more well-worn, and occasionally involve small wooden bridges grown over with ivy, or the decayed remnants of signs, giving the place a completely different character than the ancient growth, ominous shadows, rings of mushrooms and stones engraven in incomprehensible designs of before, like they exist in two different worlds.
Lilian Rook	There is even, at one point, a cross over what might have once been an asphalt road, which has decayed to the point that it looks as if it'd be left there for hundreds of years, broken into washed out pale grey fragments by the veils of plant life that have grown up under them. Past that, even the crumbled remains of brick and mortar buildings, weathered as if from years with triple digits. Anticipating the eventual question, Lilian strikes up along the walk, which promises to be a long one, "You know, a lot of this used to be a national park. It's grown bigger since by a few kilometers. There were plenty of tiny villages, camp sites, cottages, commissions, random small businesses, even a fishery nearby. All of it was obviously evacuated forever ago. Obviously, we're looking at the rather mundane side of it today. When the older things came out of the almost literal woodworks once all the humans were gone, even the mundane half started to transform pretty hard." Indeed, the few main roads through here should still, by rights, have painted road markings, not be crumbling relics of another era, overgrown and crowded out by trees. Furthermore, there certainly is much less of a tingle of magic about it, and Lilian is actually dressed for the cold.
Tamamo	Tamamo might be able to tough out days without sleep, using her various specialities, but if so, she has yet to demonstrate any such knack. After shortening her sleep the one night to meet new (old) people and introduce Lilian to a new (very old) art using (very new) tools, she retired to her shrine-room notably earlier the following night. Today, she is rising just as the sun does, and that scant light and temporary silence is reflected in her own appearance. She does not shortcut, nor even quicken that process, as some others might, but greets Lilian with an expression past laziness and into hazy sleepiness. Still, she does not protest the occasion, and the actual matter of dressing herself is handled with swift convenience. This is likely the first time she's let someone watch as she simply spreads her arms, as if if to let a servant pull on or off her clothing, and her shrine maiden-like garb shifts in the light and is replaced by her winter coat, pulling itself close and closed about her. The outfit swap is complete in a moment, and is all the morning preparation she needs before following along behind on this new little adventure. Her wakefulness comes as they walk, gaining once outside, Tamamo breathing in great lungfuls of fresh air. Her step is as light and easy as ever, having little issue keeping up even when her focus is not all there, more a testament to naturally reflexive balance than anything else. It's not all so cold as it had been, but not so warm as to make the New Year's winterwear impractical, at least for her tastes. The Sun Goddess might truly prefer the months when the sun is closest overhead, as much as her natural complexion would intuitively suggest otherwise. They walk along the paths, and Tamamo examines the place in passing, with a 'hm' at the twining trees, but little for the ruined road, much as she was unbothered by mere ruin outside Yamato. "They did seek reclamation of the land," she says, "or perhaps, their mere presence allowed for this. Even kings who seek to be remembered for all ages do find their works crumbled, and more so when another conquers their land and strikes their name." She glances about, ears cocked for the skitter of animals through leaves, for the buzz of insects, or for the first birdsong to call in the morning hour. "There were some spirits, I doubt not, who might strike such delicate balance as to place the entrance to a hidden forest within the dark, narrow gaps of a city of mortals, but we see here the far more likely result, of the seen world coming close to the unseen."
Lilian Rook	Though she says absolutely nothing on the subject, secretly, Lilian believes this was worth it if only for sleepy Tamamo. Even though the henshin outfit change takes her off guard, and Tamamo declaring herself ready to go has her respond with a slightly hesitant "That's it? Are you sure?" and "Well, alright then." As for herself, it's clear she enjoys being outside as well, though whether it's the quality of nature or the fact that it's still somewhere she knows and loves well could be either way. She kicks a piece of decayed asphalt out of the way as they go, watching it crumble into so much gravel rather than fly off. "Kings used to build their castles out of sturdier stuff though, that's for certain." she says. "There are tons of them that still stand all over the country. Of course the old things that used to live here did a number on anything more modern than a little bridge, but the people who made it all are partly to blame for it all being so standard and cheap, you know?" The trail eventually runs up against a river that has already completely thawed, fairly small, but very active with the meltwater filtering into it from kilometers further in. It's here where fish can be found lounging in the clear waters, including one Tamamo would recognize immediately, that being a fat catfish. Birds are shaking themselves off in the trees, waking up to the first, scattered songs of the day. "It's like we talked about before. The magic inherent to the Earth had declined a lot over time, to the point of leaving no real evidence of leylines to the everyman. Creatures that stem from the land were very rare and secluded. Nobody's completely sure if human civilization is actually anathema to them, but they don't like it. In this country, though, there are all sorts of places where those beings can live in secrecy. There are countless tales of things that live in other worlds entirely, right beside ours, through hills and barrows, stones and toadstool circles, forgotten paths and ancient tree hollows, sometimes underwater. Even an entire Otherland, old warriors used to find through caves and mists or voyages on enchanted boats. It's simple enough that nobody would stumble upon it once they'd stopped believing it existed and rarely ever leave cities, never mind head out into the middle of nowhere." "So without people living here anymore, it's natural they'd come back. It's not exact, but the dimensions of the places they live correspond to the size and health of the land it's tied to. Being destroyed by encroachment, human or antegent, is bad for them. Promoting the regrowth of the land is in their best interests." Pointing at a particular scatter of stones, broken apart as if from a single large slab, stood up half-deep in moss in a pair of lose circles, Lilian says "By now I could probably point to every single place here that leads in and out. That is, to the forest where I accidentally summoned you. Where the leylines are closest, and the old circles and boundary stones are. A lot of those places are empty now, though. Hidey holes with nothing in them. Pocket realms fallen into disuse. The borders break down and they join the Other Forest in time. It's not as populated as it used to be, but it'd still be dangerous for an ordinary human to end up there. It's also a lot bigger than it is out here. Going on little walks like this through the old parks save a lot of time."
Lilian Rook	Following the curve of the river, which appears to have no bridge over it, Lilian glances up to one particular bird making no noise: an overlarge black crow perched in a tree, so dark its eyes aren't visible, not making so much as the sound of a rustled feather, then decides "Further ahead." Still filling time with talk, she goes on. "Obviously antegent have no interest in it. Humans don't live there, and they wouldn't go exploring weird places like that anyways. It's rare to see them around this part of the country, compared to inland, due to the proximity to the Urban Center and all, and the proximity to our land, but it's the beings that came back that make them lose their way and hunt them down when they do. They come out here, from their hollows. The old arts of playing tricks, bending paths, making things disappear; even the weak ones help a little. The Beast or sometimes Spirit class can be taken care of by the odd thing that lives in the water or in a cave by itself, but most times it's the daoine sidhe that deal with it, in troops." "There's usually only one remarkable intrusion every month or two, at most. The lesser invaders tend to just disappear. It's the big ones that leave a corpse. The Sisters you remember; they're sidhe. Faerie, Fair Folk, the Good Neighbours, aren't the proper names. They used to belong to the Seelie Court too, so they're generally nasty, but they're the strongest here by far. So, if it was them, it's probably a significant haul." "Oh, and the house more or less straddles the boundary. When the place was developed, with a big highway within a few kilometers, and all these parks, it stuck to the leylines and fell into the Otherworld more so than the real one, though, not completely. Just walking far enough away from the woods has you stumble on civilization again, but suffice to say, it hasn't stood around in plain sight for three centuries. There's a reason I don't really take people back there." Eventually, her directions lead her to the place she's familiar with closest to the reported incursion. Tamamo would recognize it as the same lake which the summoning circle had overlooked, but the huge stones erected across it are currently nowhere to be seen. The lake is smaller, the hill is less steep, the woods are less dense, there are fewer flowers, and there is only the barest, trace tingle of that very very old energy of sunlight. "Notice the difference?" Lilian asks, semi-rhetorically, before pointing to a series of rocks that have tumbled to the bottom of the hill, and then shifts a couple of the half-tone stones by hand to reveal a tunnel in. "North Moors isn't secret ground though. So, it's nippy even for me out here. Obviously they dragged off the monster to their home turf, so let's have a look shall we~?"
Tamamo	"Oh, some did so build their fortresses. If they had not, would you still know what those kings had built? And yet, even engraved names do wear away, if sometimes over a greater span than does the knowledge of how to yet read those names become lost." Tamamo speaks on the matter of kings. One might guess that the Sun looked down on a good few tales that have been forgotten. "I do prefer these sights, but I did not dislike the great cities of crowding throngs and long, straight roads, either, palaces rising in the distance, far past the rooftops of inns and shops." Orienting on the birdsong, while still picking her way along the path, following closely enough to be more beside than behind Lilian, she sniffs. "Still, for the scents... forests and cities do both have many, but the streets of the latter were ever less pleasing." Lower, "Little wonder those of the palace would not deign to set foot upon them." She has heard that bit about the leylines before, and gives a nod. "It is always a matter of passing 'between.' Between the trees, between the stones, between the edges of the circle, between the pillars of the torii gate, that carries one over the boundary, between the inside and the outside, between 'here' and 'there.'" That's just the nature of space, even if its application here defies mundane understandings of geometry. "It is well that they do care for the land. Not all spirits are 'of this land,' and some might be less concerned, but they are, in greatest part, those that live deeper, still." They come to that previous place, here smaller, less impressive in every respect, but retaining the minimum resemblance. Though it should not be so cold, and she should have quite woken up by this morning walk, Tamamo still moves to lean against Lilian's arm, casually taking her hand. In fact, her hands are quite warm to the touch, though of course, being warmer than a human doesn't mean that Tamamo herself will feel warm. "Do you invite so few visitors? I had wondered if you only sought to keep little secrets, like your charming relatives." She might be teasing. Tamamo retains that hold upon Lilian's hand at the prospect of moving across the boundary. "Let us see what there is to see." There's the stirring of her curiosity.
Lilian Rook	"When crowds of common people all live together, of course there'd be a lot of different scents." Lilian says with a considerable amount of half-voiced disdain. "Especially back before they invented hot showers. Though, honestly, the Victorian time period did a lot to destroy our understanding of previous cultures. They were very concerned with perpetuating the idea that the modern era was the first to truly have enlightened and logical thinking, as well as manners and decent civilization, even while polluting the hell out of everything." Realizing she's getting distracted, she says "Though I do like the look of those old Japanese castle towns. The English ones are more about the idea of being constantly attacked from overseas. The wood all rots away, but the huge, elaborate stone constructions have been around for ages. The arms race of that period is kind of interesting, but probably a topic for another time. As for names, well, the Romans wrote huge amounts of their history down, and the monks over here spent a great deal of time writing books, manuals, documents, even semi-scientific affairs. You might be surprised." She doesn't even slightly hesitate to comment on the obvious. "Oh you hands are so warm. Now it's tempting to try and put them on my face." An only half-joking smile. "Though, come to think of it, how does that torii thing work? I mean, I've seen the gates plenty, and I know vaguely the association, but what's the overall deal, hm?" Ducking into the tunnel is the same either way though. It's not exactly tall, never having been meant for human use, never mind modern humans. Lilian only has to stoop a little, though the perils of geta are probably more relevant. The inside isn't any kind of packed dirt though, not having been burrowed or mined, but oddly clear, smooth, striated white and black stone past the initially rough entrance, mosses growing on the walls without sunlight. There's a period of dark once the entrance fades, long enough that a light source won't come close to uncovering the beginning and end simultaneously. The warm tingle of once experienced natural magic is a constant presence past what must be the exact halfway, ramping up in intensity, until it emerges from the exact same place the entrance was, at the bottom of a steeper rise, with a fairer climate, the sun already just about fully above the horizon. The snow has disappeared quite abruptly here. The grass is already thick and green, and flowers bloom all over, including multiple different kinds from the same trees, in abnormal, if beautiful, colours and arrangements of petals. It'd been deep winter not all that long ago, but the change is very sharp, like summer and winter had agreed on a very specific time to change hands, and spring and autumn are crammed between. The lake has thawed out completely, but is still glassy and still. The other side of it is still in a state that quickly becomes weirdly barren, but that's fine for now.
Lilian Rook	It's a different walk from the same standing stones, along the shore, mostly made up of fine, water worn, black and white stones, almost too smooth and small to be called gravel. Around a few bends and twists, tiny isles of rock and ivy and flower and nests belonging to birds and snakes, streams in which trout of all things seem to lazily run, and mysterious cairn-like arrangements where certainly no one is buried. Around a grove of weird trees, with low, twisted trunks, white bark, and wide boughs, like a full-sized bonsai, hanging heavy with unidentifiable pink and gold-ish fruits, there's a long spit of gravel, packed dirt, and short grass stained indigo soaked into the topsoil and pooled between the tiny stones, smeared across the little peninsula, almost reaching the water. It surrounds the crumpled remains of a dead thing resting on its flank, thrice the size of a large and heavyset horse. It has a roughly similar sort of body type, though with an extra joint to each leg, giving it more of a queer, therapod air to it, and they end in curved tapers like artificial running legs. It has a tail that is more like the prehensile end of a spinal column rather than hair. The theme runs all the way up its back and neck as vertebrae-shaped spines, but its whole body has a sort of exoskeleton of bright gold, seemingly decorated with bends of carved designs, with flesh of silver in the gaps. There is no head, because it's been taken clean off. The remains are crisscrossed all over with razor thin cuts often ten centimeters deep, still oozing non-clotting blood. The stump neck exposes nothing like bones inside, but weird, iridescent fibres, veins, webbing, and something like gills. It's been pretty viciously mauled. The body shimmers with enough heat to distort the air, and bits and pieces of its shattered exoskeleton hover around it, making a loose field of floating fragments. There aren't many signs of battle. Some scoring on the trees, some burns in the foliage. Pockmarks and craters like gunfire are coated in a thin powder of gold and glass, rather than scorched. It probably wasn't a long fight, three on one. There are already weird, silvery fish walking on fins circling around the body, waiting for it to cool down. as well as huge, dark-feathered mystery birds with red crests waiting nearby. The three sidhe are already long gone.
Tamamo	Tamamo just smiles at the mention of the Romans and the monks. Reminded of something, she doesn't yet say what. They move into the tunnel, Tamamo only very mildly complaining of the need to bend over, keeping her balance but finding her steps far more awkward, and the sides and ceiling being too close to easily avoid with her voluminous tails and tall ears. It's not that they won't get through, but she visibly dislikes getting them dirty, and if Lilian looks back she'll find that yes, Tamamo does have that bit of inhuman musculature that lets her pull her ears flat, even if she's never yet been seen using it for the expressive purpose some animals are known for. They make it out, but Tamamo keeps a hold on Lilian's hand, just to be safe. "My, my. It is certainly more pleasant upon this side." She might mean the magic, the temperature, or the colorful flowers attracting her attention, or even the far greater and more obvious animal life. She doesn't move toward picking anything, choosing to avoid any disturbance to the scene, for the moment. And they find the remains. "A little too heated, over there, I should think. That golden carapace is somewhat fetching, at least. Might you suppose there is anything like gold or silver within it? I have yet to take apart such a thing as these Antegent, and know not what makes up their form in any useful sense." Though belatedly, she continues onto a different topic, "Ah, but you did ask a question, of those red arches, and I did have an answer. A torii is just that, a gate that marks a boundary, though if it is unlike a circle of toadstools, it is because it has been made by human hands. Like any gate, it separates two spaces, yet allows for passage between them, should the traveler know the way, or should the owner permit their entry. This is a marked difference, however, in the relations between those of either side. Consider this: those who sought to enter a sacred space did build a place that gods might rest and receive their worship, and did build a gate through which they may pass to enter the realm of the gods. One might call it respect, or one might call it arrogance. Do you see?" There's a few things she doesn't quite say, first searching Lilian's eyes for understanding of whatever those connections or implications are.
Lilian Rook	"Hm? What's so funny?" That question is directed to Tamamo's apparent reaction to monks, but it's swiftly replaced with "Sorry, sorry, but none of these places are really supposed to be easy or comfortable to go through! Otherwise it's ten times the hike! Look, if your tails get dirty, I can brush them later okay? Besides, how do you even balance on those shoes in the first place?" On the other side though, this time Lilian is the one to take a big breath of air, letting the energetic tingle fill her lungs and suffuse her whole body from there. "This is, physically and spiritually, more or less the outskirts of Tir Na Nog. The Isle of Youth. It's not quite the full experience, as it shouldn't be. You could more or less think of it as the land from which the sidhe are from, with a lot of different names. A lot of tales about mythical warriors and explorers and such ending up here and becoming immortal, or children being taken here and replaced with changelings by the more malicious fey. Our family doesn't own the whole place. Not even close. Right now, though, it's the turn of spring, and the really twisted sidhe wax with winter and wane with summer." Arriving at the scene, Lilian examines it with an almost appreciative cant of the head, making several thoughtful noises in otherwise silent succession. "Maybe. It might've been best to wait a little while, then. If only I'd brought some tea or something. Could make a proper time of it. Gathering up wood to make a fire here would be a bad idea, though. She approaches the large corpse, frowning in proximity to the heat shimmer, and laying her hand on the chiseled carapace for a second or two, before backing off. "It must be fifty degrees around that thing. Seventy touching it. Throwing some water on it would probably be best. Or I suppose dragging it, since there's not exactly a convenient bucket around." she decides, somewhat unhappily. "Kind of a shame not to see what it was in action, but you can't leave familiars here and expect to get them back. Bringing it back is more useful than just footage anyways." Considering Tamamo's question for a moment, she answers, "Sure. Oftentimes there are plenty of perfectly mundane materials involved, usually when they assimilate them for some reason or another, or when they have to synthesize something. Matter is matter. There are only so many combinations of atoms and all." "In this case though, the outside is way too hard to be gold. It's probably an equivalent. Likely to absorb magic, given gold's usual properties. That's probably what the designs are for, by whatever system they evolve by. Mirror image materials like that are uncommon, but not unheard of. It doesn't seem toxic or hazardous or anything, but telling what's inside of it and how it got this way isn't something I can figure out on my own, and especially not out here. We still don't understand much about how they're formed, and if they do it to themselves, or something else designs them, or whether they're like wildlife."
Lilian Rook	Getting out woolen gloves and letting them soak up water until they're cold and clammy, Lilian braves putting them on, and then grabbing the gleaming monster by an extremity, focusing her energy and slowly heaving it down the water's edge, then rolling it over into it with a heavy push. The silvery fish skip after it. Finding a place to sit down, it seems she really has to chew on that esoteric answer --esoteric even for Tamamo. "Mmmh . . . I'm not sure I completely get it. It's so whoever built or owns the shrine can mark it as a sacred space, then? As in, rather than just enshrining a god's spirit, or erecting a religious observance or tribute to it, they build it up to be 'that god's space' and then make people come through the gate as an act of entering a sacred realm. Even though a human lives and works there. I can see it as partitioning out a place of worship, where there are certain rules. Back in the day, people used to take church grounds very seriously as places of refuge, until they finally began bombing them in the world wars. What happens if you go around the gates then? You're an intruder, rather than a visitor?"
Tamamo	"My, my," Tamamo says, in that tone, "are you thinking of touching a goddess's tails? How very daring." But then, isn't Lilian always? Tamamo must expect that of her by now. "Oh, but why should it be difficult to balance upon one's shoes?" She sounds genuinely curious, as if it's never occurred to her that a pair of lateral lines, about an inch thick from front to back, should present more difficulty than any other sort of footwear. "Tir Na Nog," Tamamo tries out the name. Is it an isle of youths, or does one find one's own youth during one's stay, or does one come here to atatin and return with youth?" The examples half-answer that query, but she remains curious, even if the concept of 'youth' shouldn't mean much to someone immortal from the start. Or maybe that's part of why she's curious about it. "Oh, of course they should find more time for mischief while the Sun is far away. The long nights are ever the time for the revels of the unknown." She says that as if her own preference for daylight has somehow precluded her interest in retaining mystery, but at least she can say her preferred days are 'bright and less than full of terror.' Tamamo waits to watch Lilian approach the corpse, testing its temperature. "Oh? Even if I can acquire it by other means, I should like to not waste perfectly good gold, should it not be too marred by its alloying." She thinks, fingers steepled. "Ah, but if it is merely 'some equivalent,' all the more reason to. I have recently come across some most interesting information regarding a purification process that I might attempt." She smiles. "It may not meet with the slightest success, but would it not be interesting to see more familiar magic make use of such unfamiliar material?" By 'unfamiliar,' she likely means 'an Antegent corpse' more so than 'gold.' The conversation gets back to the torii gates and, more importantly, 'gods.' "Oh, but if you see a door to a house, and you do not come through the door, nor the window, nor the walls, floor, or ceiling, then you have not entered the house at all, no? One who does not walk through the gate has not entered the space beyond it, but they may very well be an intruder, all the same." Tamamo then gives Lilian another one of those looks, the kind that might be testing, or teasing, or just finding humor in something she doesn't mind being the only one to see, by too subtle a distinction. "Should one build a house for another, it can mean little ill. But do the priests ask the gods where they might wish to dwell, knowing they already reside high upon Takamagahara? Or do they decide, mortals though they be, that they should control the dwellings and spaces of gods, and live, work, and sleep beside them, and so say, 'look upon me, for none are closer to the divine, none closer to joining the rulers of heaven, to apotheosis,' as if..." She trails off, before half-repeating her earlier query, "And so you see, no?"
Lilian Rook	Perhaps realizing that what she'd suggested is more daring than she'd initially thought, Lilian considers, briefly, whether to explain or take it back, and then swiftly decides on "Why not? It has to be easier than doing it yourself, right?" Just going all the way huh. "Well I suppose if you're used to wearing them after such a long time, but still, it looks impressive." is her opinion on the subject of geta. "It has a few other names, but Tir na Nog is the generally accepted one. They all amount to Land of Youth, Land of the Young, Land of Promise, or sometimes the Multicoloured Place or Isle of Apple Trees. It's a sort of Otherworld and paradise, albeit a small one. The people that live there attain everlasting youth, beauty, and health, though staying here uninvited brings disaster after three days, three weeks, three months, and then three years. She explains in a conversational more than scholarly way, passing the time while waiting. "The native folk are all, obviously, already everlastingly young and beautiful. The Fair Folk, the Tuath De, the various land spirits. The closest equivalent to humans are sort of . . . a 'chosen of a goddess', sort of thing. They've been Enlightened superhumans forever. There are stories about the women seeking mortal husbands and mortal warriors winning their favour and such, with a feast that endows immortality. There's only a scattered few Enlightened human bloodlines that have settled on some stable route here, and then mostly only on the fringes. The Roots of Ulster clans, mostly." On hearing the comparison to a house though, Lilian looks back at Tamamo with an almost audible little click of recognition. "Oh, I see now. The material shrine ground, and then 'the shrine as a sacred place'. Actually that's a very apt parallel isn't it? Now I wonder if they're used that way more than symbolically around the Japanese Circles. Ahh damn, I should've asked while we were there. Oh well, there will be plenty of opportunities in future." "But do the gods not really get a choice about sharing a space with a priest or priestess? I'm aware of the concept of spirit multiplication --ironically the modern age made it much easier for the average person to understand-- but not whether the god in question chooses to inhabit a consecrated vessel or whether it just happens if it's done properly." After that, she allows herself some time to think about the types of people involved. "Mmm . . . I've obviously never been religious, but I've read the literature. There's something the Christians have that feels relevant. Something about 'he who prays and gives charity in public already has his reward in full'. In other words, acts of holy devotion sheerly to impress other people should win no favour from God, because they haven't been done out of goodness, or devotion to the divine, but for material gain." "Were there a lot of people like that? People who chose a religious life for importance and reputation? Perhaps because it was easier? Or else people who wanted to be 'close' to the gods and hope their divinity 'rubbed off'. You know, the people who get so very proud about how pious they are that it becomes a source of a feeling of superiority. I've known of a couple of people like that."
Lilian Rook	Rolling the bloodied hulk of glittering gold and ancient carved designs over in the water to cool both sides evenly, having to break off a minute to find good leverage, Lilian responds to Tamamo's request without hesitation. "Oh? Certainly. It's my find anyways, and it's not like this much material is necessary just to study it. Obviously large samples are good and all, especially if they might be made into synthetic materials later, but who has any right to complain?" A small, conspiratorial smile creeps across her face. "Besides, who would even know that the missing bits weren't just lopped off by the Unseelie Sisters anyways?" "But, since you have my interest and all, what's this about a purification process? Is it something I might help with?"
Tamamo	"A 'chosen of a goddess'?" Tamamo tilts her head, remembering something else. "Ah, when you say 'enlightened,' do you mean that these inhabitants were once human, themselves, or might that not be known? No great amount of what little I have seen so recently did suggest to me a mortal origin." Tamamo does wait to see that bit of recognition. "Oh, a god does have this choice, but does the priest realize? They are accustomed to mystery in their rituals, of uncertainty as to whether their words are heard. They do what they do all the same. Not for personal recognition, so much, I should think. Priests who lived lives of fame and wealth were in small number. But that is not the 'arrogance' of which I spoke, but their attempts to reach godhood. Perhaps I should have said only 'foolishness,' for that is a dream that may never come to pass." She says that with some resigned finality, as a long-ago conclusion, a trace of sadness for the futility of the effort. What she might do with the gold is a happier topic. "As to that, I did explore a place that was devoted to another Sun, and therein did find many items of interest. Among these was gold purified in concentrated Sunlight, as like its fires, and so, taking on its warmth and, I expect, a great affinity for one who holds such Authorities as do I. Despite such purity, it was not soft, but as hard as might be desired of any blade's core. Is this not intriguing? And so did I also meet there one who called himself 'Chosen of the Unconquered Sun.' Perhaps you have known of these people? Their Unconquered is not She of the Gold-White Face, but it felt to me a light close enough to treat it as mine own, and so, I might also try forging some small items using the same methods as this Unconquered's smiths."
Lilian Rook	"Enlightened in the sense of . . . the usual, proper term, for people with more than ordinary power. There are so many names across so many traditions and all. People who are attuned to otherworldly energies, I might say? Enlightened to rare knowledge formerly kept deadly secret, or having been a mystery to begin with. You are. I am. Average people are not." Lilian clarifies. "But no they aren't . . . supposedly they're the chosen people of the goddess Danu, from some primeval time. That'd mean they never 'degraded' to the point of common humanity, and never would have bee mortal. Technically, the sidhe, amidst the Fair Folk, count themselves as such as well. As Tuatha De. Though, their have a Queen, rather than a King. It's odd, and complicated." "Foolishness though, hm?" Lilian picks that up for consideration when starting to drag the golden mass out of the water, now glimmering with moisture in the warm sun and its rainbow corona, washed mostly of indigo blood. "So you're not fond of humans trying to attain power like that? Or simply similarity to, or maybe contact with, the gods? Even if they're not going to succeed. A lot of people find that aspect of human nature laudible, as much as many people tear it down, depending on how much they believe in a 'proper order' of things I suppose?" "At least I can say I've thoroughly enjoyed living close to something of a goddess~" Oddly, when Lilian produces her sword in this place, despite the fact that by all rights it should contrast even more sharply against the old and untouched life and beauty around, it seems to . . . fit in, somehow. Though it be dark and ominous and superficially resemble black iron and lodestone over steel, the etchings and filigree all over that resemble vines and flowers in some ways suddenly seem like something one would easily find carved on some flat-faced stone here. She obviously has it out for the purposes of carefully slicing away as close to a level, uniform square of carapace as she can, certainly completely impervious to a plain knife, prying it away from clinging filiments of quicksilver flesh beneath. "I've heard only bits and pieces here and there about that and those. I'm surprised you felt so adventurous as to go there of all places, but, that does sound interesting. Some sort of trascended state of gold, resonant with the sun --pardon, the Sun. That does sound like it'd be exactly what you fancy." She smirks, just a little. "I'm glad you're able to get along with different customs like so~ Especially since, personally, I'd imagine their sun god to be a lot less, well, a lot of things, than you are. It sounds interesting! Why not try it then?"
Tamamo	"Oh, no, it is much the opposite." says Tamamo, as to whether she dislikes humans doing such things. "I have became greatly enamored of human foolishness, but to attract my interest does not, of itself, make one wise." She gives a sidelong smile, leaving all of the the rest of that story unsaid, for now, though she adds, "As I have enjoyed our time together, in hopes we shall have much more. And oh, we do have so many little adventures remaining, whether within your house's environs or far from it, do we not?" She goes on, "'Adventurous,' as you say. Coincidentally, it was an issue involving fae, and the kidnapping of children, or so the rumor seemed to be, though there was no mention of sidhe." She nods. "The encounter raised many questions, and I have yet to find some trusted expert upon the region, but perhaps there are some among the Paladins who would know of them. That young Chosen did mention being hunted by a powerful empire, and such are tales of heroism, but one would hardly trust wholeheartedly a tale for its own sake, no? Though I say this, he was a remarkably well-mannered young man, and did leave a good impression upon me, his affinity for the Sun included." She turns over the word on her tongue, then, "'Unconquered' does carry a certain flavor. No Sun, of my knowledge, has ever been 'conquered,' yet I would not take such as a title, nor expect She to do the same. One can hardly reach the Sun, and so, to even make the attempt speaks to a far different life. Further did he say that this Unconquered had turned his face away from the world, but this left a different impression than the ending of the Age of the Gods." Tamamo watches Lilian pry the piece off, looking along the edges, where the filaments are pulled apart. "Such a strange creature, but perhaps a closer study shall remove some of its strangeness. But in that, I have less immediate interest than in finding whether this metallic hide might be put to good use. It can hardly be used for evil, should anything of it survive such thorough purification as I have planned. Oh, yes, and I shall let you see this product, but all in due time."
Lilian Rook	"In this case, I'd like to think of 'wise' in the context of genius and stupidity. In that if I do anything that seems unwise, it's actually because I'm a genius and it works out great." Lilian says, without nearly enough facetiousness for a declaration like that, though a bit of tongue poking out. "That is a bit of a coincidence though. Or, I suppose superficially. It wasn't unknown for the Unseelie Court of the fae here to take young children that struck their fancy and replace them with sort of mentally stunted, artificial duplicates. Ones that grew poorly, if at all, and frequently died young. Presumably just for the sake of having a mortal child to raise, like a pet or something." "A lifespan that short is like committing to a pet mouse for them. In general though, that court was always the more malicious and deranged of the two by far. I suspect it isn't quite the same there, if it's a recurrent problem, and not a sad and creepy one off." This time, Lilian manages to hold it in, or maybe just doesn't feel quite as strongly, when Tamamo speaks favourably of some other young man she holds in high esteem. "When it comes to empire . . . mmm, heresy, most likely. If it were something about being an illegitimate heir or traitor, it'd be a private party from said empire doing the hunting. That, or trying to lead some kind of reform or revolt against the current regime. That tends to be how it is." "I'd presume a title like 'Unconquered' means that someone tried --tried a lot. Maybe a war god or something? Or a Greek sort of situation where successive generations cast down the previous ones. It's odd for a sun god to be challenged by pretty much anything though, I'd agree. Usually they're held high above the rest. I can only think, vaguely, of Aztec legends about the sun doing battle with the dark every night." "I wonder who had the ability to upset a god like that so much that they get up on the earth though." Lilian suddenly all but laughs out. "A name like 'Unconquered Sun', but someone on Earth pissed him off so bad he just left. What kind of legendary degenerate managed that? Can you think of something someone could possibly do to make you start ignoring humanity?" Looking at the sheer mass, Lilian sighs. "Ahh, there's no way this is going to fit through any of the passages around here. I'll probably have to take the legs, tail, and neck off, and make two or three trips. What a pain. It's surprisingly less heavy than it looks, but dimensions are dimensions." "If it means I finally get to see what you're cooking though, of course I'll be glad to do it~"