Scene #941: A Disturbing Prophecy

Owner	Pose
Inga Freyjasdottir	Naturally, Faruja had been a bit shaken by the unexpected prophecy. Most people are. In her time, she'd often been consulted for these visions, but now...they mostly take people by surprise. Faruja had asked to speak with her again, likely begrudgingly. Inga had agreed to meet him in the park, a place where she was comfortable. Without the guidance of others, the multiverse was still a bit much for her to navigate on her own. She knew how to get to a few places using Agartha and tends to stick to those places until introduced elsewhere. Inga waits for Faruja by a large tree, seated on a bench. She'd tried to give him an adequate description of where she would be. It is late afternoon, only a couple of hours left before dark. The sunlight filters through the many colored leaves of autumn, dried leaves still falling in the breeze. Inga is dressed to blend in more with this place, wearing a long grey skirt and a blue sweater. An ivory colored wool shawl is pulled over her shoulders, a travel cup of coffee in her hand from a nearby cafe. At a glance, she'd appear to just be people-watching. Any further study might reveal that she's eerily still, her eyes open but her gaze far away.
Faruja	Faruja isn't one to bother hiding what he is, and so Chicago may well get a few reports of 'talking giant wererats' in the future. Maybe he'll even end up in the tabloids as the rodent teleports into the park. Eventually finding his way to the bench, he'll offer a bow as he approaches. He may not necessarily /like/ Inga, but the woman's at least earned his respect. And wariness! Dressed in his usual robes and cross, the rat straightens. "Blessings upon thee, Lady Inga. Thank ye for meeting me." Then, his single eye glances around. He doesn't notice he look just yet, too focused on spying others. Clearly her prophecy spooked him, and has left him paranoid. A glance back. "...Art ye alright? May I join ye?" A fuzzy brow rises. Witches! So weird.
Inga Freyjasdottir	It hadn't really occurred to her that he might be strange here. Everything is so odd to her that she can't even quite put it all into catagories yet. Chicago is foreigh, Faruja is foreign--but Faruja is still foreign to Chicago. Oh well! It is a moment before Inga responds. She shakes her head, blinking rapidly to clear her sight. She turns to look toward Faruja, brow furrowing as if she didn't know why he was there. Oh, right. He'd asked to meet her. "Sir Faruja. Of course, please sit," she said, motioning to the bench. She moves her staff aside for him. Plenty of room for him to sit and still be a comfortable distance away. Who knows, heresy might be contageous! Inga turns toward him slightly as he has a seat, remembering the coffee in her hand. She takes a sip, glad it is still warm. "I trust you and Ainsley are settling into your new home comfortably?" she asks.
Faruja	Faruja sits as bidden, leaning his cane against the bench close to hand. While he's mildly certain she won't just try to kill him or infect him with Heresy, one can never be sure. And he still hasn't managed to get a liscense for his magical flamethrowers in chicago yet. His gaze sits neatly on Inga's eyes. His own clothes are typical, though seem thicker and even have some fur lining against Chicago's cold weather. Careful neutrality breaks into a genuine smile. "Quite well, in fact! The good Lamia Sisters were quick to offer their assistance. Bedrooms sorted, Shrine slowly being worked upon. Though dear Ainsley's mountain of books shall need a good month before they art all properly ensconced in the library, nevermind mine own texts! Now if I can just find out how to get a bloody garden going in that odd place!" He laughs, rich and warm. She's certainly managed to break the ice, here. It fades quickly, however. "Ye art uninjured, I trust?" His gaze drops a bit to look her over. Witch or not, she's now an ally, and he has honorable obligations. Plus, he seems to be dancing around the subject, gaze occasionally slipping away. An ear is ever tilting to catch sounds.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga observes Faruja, her expression passing-pleasant. She's noting the way he smiles when Ainsley is mentioned; how he becomes so animated when talking about their new home together. Her lips tug into a gentle smile. Faruja and her may disagree on many things, but she can see that he loves Ainsley and that speaks in his favor. "A garden...yes that seems as though it would be difficult," she agrees. Inga looks around then, looking toward the tall buildings of the cityscape. Gods, is this really where she lives? She wants a garden. Somewhere to keep chicken and goats... A brow is raised as Faruja looks her over for injuries. She shakes her head, smiling a bit awkwardly. "No, not injured. I do not remain injured for long, regardless," she answers. "But that is not what you've come to speak about, is it?" she says then, pinning him with her gaze. At 5 feet tall, she's not the type that would immediately come off as intimidating, but her gaze is knowing and often unnerving in its intensity.
Faruja	"...No. 'Tis not." He finally admits. Cue another glance about. He sighs, and his voice lowers. "I realize I left the decision to ye, but ye hath chosen the /worst/ bloody spot for this. Too public. Still, the Lord giveth, taketh away, et cetera. I shall speak it plain. Your...what ye said. Explain. Now." There's a harsher edge to his tone. His own gaze meets her own formidable one, his face a mask of both judgement and purpose; the look of an Inquisitor on the job. He doesn't hesitate, holding it, even /if/ there's fear lurking somewhere in that gaze. Something she said hit a very sensitive topic, and the rat is playing his cards close to his chest. "Tell me everything. 'Tis important. Those in Ivalice whom know too much hath this horrid habit of ending up dead. 'Tis not a threat. Rather, I must know to protect ye."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga frowns. Perhaps she should have asked Harry if Faruja could come there. The woman looks around again. No one is around. Faruja's tone gets an eyebrow raise. Somehow, its a dangerous look, but she lets him finish before she speaks. Inga takes a sip of her coffee, then looks to Faruja squarely. "Firstly, you will not make demands of me. I expect to be treated with respect. I realize you were upset by my /vision/ but I will not excuse rudeness," she replies. A breath, then Inga continues. "It was a vision, and I spoke what I saw. I do not understand what it means Faruja, and since it has upset you so clearly I am pointedly trying not to trigger another--however," she says, pausing for another sip of coffee. "If you wish to know more, I can attempt to divine further. I see...a tangled tapestry, but I will save you a complicated explaination of my gift," she says, waving a hand. "Do you wish me to look?" Inga wonders if Ainsley had told Faruja that she'd asked Inga to look into her future, and anything about the vision she'd given. Surely, they are close...but she doesn't not want to accidentally say what Ainsley didn't want known.
Faruja	Teeth show, the rat quite literally snarling at the Witch before him. Thank the Lord he came somewhat unarmed. "I am an Inquisitor of the Most Holy Church of Saint Ajora Glabados! An arbiter of Heavenly Law! I shall question and demand of whom I bloody well please when mine country and Church art threatened!" Whispers the rat harshly, before he lets out a long-suffering sigh. He's still a knight. "...That said, ye art correct. I shouldst not be so...suspicious of those accepted within the Union. Mine apologies for such rudeness." There's even a tiny bow. His head tilts, and Inga receives a searching look. His bluster from earlier fades into something far too close to pity and sadness. He may well look /weak/, slumping slightly. Can he really draw another into this mess? "Mine dear, hath ye read an Earth book called 'Alice in Wonderland'? I believe a quote about rabbit holes shall suffice here. 'Tis not a question of whether or not I wish ye to look. I am an Inquisitor. I question, I judge, I act. Thine information is required. However!" A single digit is raised meaningfully. "I swore an oath before God to save souls. And I wouldst be a liar if I said that ye examining what ye hath already seen wouldst not draw ye into a most dark and Fell conflict in mine world. Politics, Heresy, and things that aught not be. /That/ is what ye shall find thineself involved with, shouldst ye peer any deeper. 'Tis not a question of whether or not I wish ye to look. Nay." There's a serious look to him. "Doth ye wish to involve thineself in the rot that infects mine homeland? Peer any deeper, and ye art as drawn forth as I am into its conflicts. 'Tis enough to try one's faith and the very fabric of one's soul, I warn ye." No, he's not aware of Ainsley's desires!
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga stands her ground, so to speak. When Faruja looses his temper at her she simply sits there, eyes narrowing slightly. She may be thinking about the sort of curse she'll place on him for talking to her that way. But he saves himself, checking his anger. He apologizes, and Inga nods to acknowledge it. The woman is quiet as she listens, trying to read him as he does her. Stress. He is under a great deal of stress. A small frown appears as Faruja draws her into deeper understanding of just how serious this situation is to him, and she'd dangled a carrot in front of the proverbial horse's nose with her vision. Not that she'd /meant/ to give it. She'd had no choice then. Now, she has a choice and Faruja is asking her to make it. "No, I have not read this book or any," she replies quickly. Really, she must make more time for learning to read. A deep breath is taken, and Inga closes her eyes for a moment. "I have one question. Would the possible insight my gift grants save lives?"
Faruja	Faruja is silent for some time, pondering. His eye closes. Clearly, Inga's question is well worth considering. And he'll not damn a soul by hasty action. "Potentially. If Ivalice is not lost, then mayhaps whatever ye hath seen shall offer enough insight that plunging ye down the bloody rabbit hole shall prove the saving of both of our souls." You filthy witch! Huff. "The choice is thine own. 'Tis a risk. But methinks our meeting is not chance, but Providence." Perhaps he's deluding himself, but he stares Inga with the look of someone utterly convinced that today is destined, and that his course is right. It's likely one of the few things keeping his psyche together.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Potentially. That is about as much as she can realistically expect. Faruja believes that this meeting is woven into the orlog--that it is guided by a divine hand. It would likely make him bristle to know she thought the same, but by her gods, not his. Not so different after all, are they? "What is one more mire?" she asks, though it is obviously rhetorical. "Quiet now," she tells him, the pupils of her eyes widening suddenly. She stares at him--no, past him, her expression disturbingly blank. The moments stretch in silence. Finally, she speaks. It is not quite the fevered prophecy that can seize her. It is quieter, but still eerie enough to raise goosebumps on the skin. "I see those hands that reached toward you--Ainsley...the other...Mizuki, yes. In your hand you hold a blood-red stone, marked with a pattern of the stars. Cancer...they call it Cancer," she says, her voice almost a whisper. She reaches toward him, taking him by the arm, the contact strengthening the connection. Her hands begin to shake. "Not only your life but your soul in perril--an old person in church vestiments reaches..." she continues, her eyes widening. "War rages. A man, a strong old warrior...golden armor over robes of rich purple. Such blood....such death," she whispers. Inga shudders then, letting go. She leans back against the bench, closing her eyes, hugging her shawl around herself to try to still the trembling. "That is all I can give you now," she says after a moment.
Faruja	Silence reigns long after Inga takes his hand. He doesn't even flinch. When she finishes? There's a sigh. "Bloody abyss, I /hate/ prophecy. Lord forgive me, but 'tis so damn inconvenient! Our...differences aside, methinks a good woman lurks within ye, Lady Inga. Thine friendship with Ainsley, however much it worries me, is proof enough of /that/. Curse me, curse we sinful children of Ivalice, that ye shouldst be given a burden of future-sight and drawn into this mess. God-given or nay, 'tis bloody unfair! People aught live their lives in peace. By the Lord, I hate mine job sometimes." A deep sigh. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a hip-flask, and drains half of it. God and booze save him. It's offered over to Inga next. "Ye hath met Lady Mizuki? Good. It shall make this all the swifter. Ainsley, as ye know, is the woman I love. Mizuki? One of mine best friends. Two whom I value more than mine soul pulling me from the maw of Cancer? I admit, I hath come to this meeting armed better than ye. Ye merely confirmed mine suspicions. Mine friends and lover shall save mine soul from that bloody stone." A shake of the head. "The man ye see is High Templar Folmarv Tengille, the leader of the Order of Temple Knights, militant arm of the Holy Church. He is possessed by a Demon, and a traitor to the Church, by a stone similar to the one ye saw. I safeguard this 'zodiac stone' of legend. A legend, and holy by it, but yet corrupt. And yet, its very existence threatens mine most inner being. It haunts mine dreams, Lady Inga, the Cancer Stone. I hath a request. Shouldst I become...corrupt? Kill me. Please. The Union wouldst hunt me down, friends and allies both. Ainsley as well. Spare her that. All of them. I...bloody abyss...I am tired of war, killing, and the like. If I must die, so be it." Another long silence. "I wage a shadow-war with the High Templar. He knows I know of him, and methinks, he may well hath suspicions of the Stone I possess. I shall give ye the full severity of Ivalician politics later. For now, we hath a pressing matter." Faruja looks Inga in the face. "Right now, 'tis between ye, mineself, and Ainsley. Ye can still walk away. Turn about, run, and this meeting never happened. Otherwise?" An almost feral grin. "Welcome to the bloody Inquisition, Sister Inga. We hath a traitor to hunt."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga looks to Faruja, brows rising. A good woman lurks within? "I do not think my good does any amount of lurking," she informs him. Gods help her, this man. Then, she looks a bit amused. "I've never expected to live in peace--nor did I expect what has come...but I have always known I was Chosen of the gods. That does not mean an easy road," she offers with a shrug. "I have met Mizuki, and heard more of her. I was quite close to asking her aid when it came to cleansing Harry of the Filth," thank the gods that has been solved. Faruja tells her more of what she saw. Inga's lips thin, her brow creasing in a frown. "Oh no no, you shall not call me that. I will strike you down now if you call me that. I agreed to use my Sight to aid you Faruja, and I have done so. If there is more to be done...I will do what I can," she replies. Oh gods, what is she getting herself into /now/? As for Faruja's request, for a moment Inga boggles. Why is it she who is always asked to take drastic measures if someone becomes possessed!? This is becoming an eerie trend! Still, she acknowledges his request with the gravitas it deserves. She thinks on it for few moments. "If it comes to that I will do what needs to be done, you have my word. I hope you realize what you ask of me Faruja, for if it comes to that...Ainsley would forever see me as the woman who killed her love. But if it saves her from that burden? Then I will take it," she replies.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga looks to Faruja, brows rising. A good woman lurks within? "I do not think my good does any amount of lurking," she informs him. Gods help her, this man. Then, she looks a bit amused. "I've never expected to live in peace--nor did I expect what has come...but I have always known I was Chosen of the gods. That does not mean an easy road," she offers with a shrug. "I have met Mizuki, and heard more of her. I was quite close to asking her aid when it came to cleansing Harry of the Filth," thank the gods that has been solved. Faruja tells her more of what she saw. Inga's lips thin, her brow creasing in a frown. "Oh no no, you shall not call me that. I will strike you down now if you call me that. I agreed to use my Sight to aid you Faruja, and I have done so. If there is more to be done...I will do what I can," she replies. Oh gods, what is she getting herself into /now/? As for Faruja's request, for a moment Inga boggles. Why is it she who is always asked to take drastic measures if someone becomes possessed!? This is becoming an eerie trend! Still, she acknowledges his request with the gravitas it deserves. She thinks on it for few moments. "If it comes to that I will do what needs to be done, you have my word. I hope you realize what you ask of me Faruja, for if it comes to that...Ainsley would forever see me as the woman who killed her love. But if it saves her from that burden? Then I will take it," she replies. She will also take a drink. On this action, they can agree.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga looks to Faruja, brows rising. A good woman lurks within? "I do not think my good does any amount of lurking," she informs him. Gods help her, this man. Then, she looks a bit amused. "I've never expected to live in peace--nor did I expect what has come...but I have always known I was Chosen of the gods. That does not mean an easy road," she offers with a shrug. "I have met Mizuki, and heard more of her. I was quite close to asking her aid when it came to cleansing Harry of the Filth," thank the gods that has been solved. Faruja tells her more of what she saw. Inga's lips thin, her brow creasing in a frown. "Oh no no, you shall not call me that. I will strike you down now if you call me that. I agreed to use my Sight to aid you Faruja, and I have done so. If there is more to be done...I will do what I can," she replies. Oh gods, what is she getting herself into /now/? As for Faruja's request, for a moment Inga boggles. Why is it she who is always asked to take drastic measures if someone becomes possessed!? This is becoming an eerie trend! Still, she acknowledges his request with the gravitas it deserves. She thinks on it for few moments. "If it comes to that I will do what needs to be done, you have my word. I hope you realize what you ask of me Faruja, for if it comes to that...Ainsley would forever see me as the woman who killed her love. But if it saves her from that burden? Then I will take it," she replies. She will also take a drink. On this action, they can agree.
Faruja	"Bloody right I shan't call ye such ye Godless Wi..." Dangit, alcohol, why do you make rats so honest? A deep sigh. Faruja lowers his voice. "Right, then, so it shall be. Ser Dresden is free of his corruption?" The statement has him pausing, and giving a light sigh. At least someone's been saved here. He crosses his chest, and mutters a prayer of thanks. "Lord be praised! Good work, Lady Inga." Credit where it's due. He'd assume she has some part of this. "I know well of what I ask. I wouldst rather like to avoid it. For both of us. I enjoy life, despite the appeal of martyrdom. Right. Let us both work together to ensure I am not suddenly a bloody Daemon. And ensure mine lovely little spitball of a country doth not fall apart thanks to said Daemon's influence. Agree on that much?"
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga's brow begins to rise... But Faruja recovers? Godless? What a silly thing to say. She has plenty of gods! More than he! Bloody monotheists. At mention of Harry, a bright smile. "Yes, it would seem that he is. Ah...I had a bit of help...but thank you," she replies. Then, a nod. "Agreed. I assume you and Ainsley will be in touch. Until then...be well," she says. Places to go, people to see. Busy, busy!