elnysa | [video] un: linneus.

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[video] un: linneus.

Hello every… ah, anyone who might see this. My name is Linneus. I... am not sure if this is working.

[leaving comments on other people’s posts is one thing, but putting his own out is quite another, and there’s a certain degree of nervousness that hasn’t been present in his everyday interactions, accentuated by the fact that he is clearly chilled and just about holding off a shiver]

I was hoping perhaps someone might be able to help. Someone in Olympia, that is. You see I returned from Wyver just now and-- well, look.

[the shift in camera angle is clumsy, but eventually he steadies the device on his surroundings. A broken-in window, the snow blown inside in small drifts. As he pans it’s clear that what little home he had started to make for himself has been quite overturned, covers tossed back and pulled off beds, cupboards and shelves standing empty, but he doesn’t linger too long on those. His main focus is on the window, one hand reaching into frame to gesture as he draws closer]

I can manage much of the housework and the cleaning, but it’s this is the trouble - it’s sort of a sash window, but it draws to the side instead of up. [a careful tug - broken glass notwithstanding, it’s clearly stuck open] I’m not sure I can manage to take it off its track by itself - I think the glass will break further if I try. But I hoped someone might try and help me with finding a replacement and perhaps fitting it?

[turning the camera back on himself, a slightly shy smile.]

I should forewarn that I may not be capable of instant repayment, but I would consider myself in your debt and endeavour to do what I can. I… await any reply, even if you’ve only advice to offer, but I shan’t be instantaneous in my replies, you understand. I have no small amount of cleaning up of my own to do…

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That should still be fine. As long as it's in the general vicinity, I can work with it. [She says, taking survey of the room, where everything might have been, how everything might fit together.] If I can ask you to stand in the corner over there? There might be glass flying through the air.

[She holds the wand slightly higher.] And to answer your question, it's a wand. [She closes her eyes, and flicks her wrist.] Sosomme Tiextrilla!

[Green light emanates from the tip of the wand, dim at first but quickly growing stronger, little beams flying from it to what seems like every object in the room-- or outside, into the snow.

It takes a moment as she focuses, but the damage starts to actually reverse itself. Smashed objects re-knit themselves, the glass shards come together in the air and merge once more into a solid window, the frame of which seems good as new.

Diana straightens up, and takes a single deep breath. The damage, apparently, is completely repaired... though any dropped objects remain on the floor.] You'll have to put things back where they used to be, unfortunately-- that spell repairs them, but movement is another thing entirely.

[he startles a little with the magic words and the lights, straightening and stepping back further from where he withdrew. He's seen something similar, a gentleman who made things float, but that was back on Thesa station. In Olympia and Wyver he had rarely seen the like, if ever. For all that he cannot deny his own eyes it was easy enough, for the most part, to convince himself he was in an ordinary world. A mundane world.

But here is a young lady with a magic wand reminding him of the contrary, and there is a lapse in their conversation while he recovers himself.]

I'm sorry-- yes, yes of course, thank you...

[venturing forward to pick up a plain teapot that had been cast from the shelves, still a little disbelieving - it's really in one piece? It's not going to fall apart in his hold?]

How did you do that?

An object-repairing spell. Slightly more complex since it wasn't just one thing in need of repair, but the principles behind fixing one thing and fixing a hundred are the same. Objects have a sort of memory of their original shape.

[She points her wand over at the small fireplace to the side of the domicile, and a small fire appears on the logs, steadily growing larger.] This should warm things up in here, then.

May I ask how it was broken?

A spell... there are no spells where I come from.

[the fire makes him startle as well - are there really spells for everything?! - holding the pot a little closer to his chest]

I'm not sure - it was like this when I returned. I suppose someone must have shattered it with a stone, or a hammer...

I've heard there are worlds without magic, yes... to be honest, such a thing seems incredibly far-fetched to me. Magic may not be common back home, but nobody denies that we witches exist. [Diana looks around, satisfied that everything's back in one piece, and collapses her wand back into its easily portable form, which she tucks back into the sash around her waist.

She walks to the windowsill, inspecting it to make sure the damage truly has been repaired.] So you think it was vandalism?

Are we refugees not thought well of, in this city?

[a little chuckle]

And the idea of magic and spells seems far-fetched to me. We only have them in stories.

[a hum at the first question, a shake of his head as he returns the teapot to itself shelf]

I don't think it was an accident...

[one doesn't accidentally break a window, force it open, and pilfer a house... but he doesn't want to cast it as mindless vandalism, to throw around blame. As disheartening as it is, he can't really blame anyone for breaking in, for taking the food or whatever else might have been useable. Sellable. But he does wish they hadn't been so careless as to break anything that happened to be in the way of their search...]

I wouldn't presume to know. But what with the food shortage one can only imagine how hungry and desperate people were.

Ah... that's right, there's been a shortage, hasn't there? I heard it was due to some disease?

With all of the refugees out of the city, I imagine these homes must have been very appealing targets for increasingly desperate people. [She glances back at him.] Do you have enough to feed yourself?

Yes. I don't understand it exactly, but there was some... commotion in the marketplace. An explosion? And then people started to get ill.

[he is gathering things, putting them back on shelves. Some of his heavier pots and pans are missing; the good one with a lid and two handles, that one is gone too. His copper kettle has a couple of dents in it, and he moves it to the sink to wash out, to fill and set on the stove. The teacups and pot as well, he can wash those while he is there.]

For a little while, it seemed manageable. The afflicted were in relatively good spirits and... disgruntled, more than anything, that they had to be cooped up for observation. It seemed they would be fine, but the illness seemed to keep turning for the worse...

[a light shake of his head. He could cope with most of it, even when they started to lose their grips on their memories, on reality. But the bleeding had been alarming and terrifying; enough that the sight still lingered in his dreams.

Pulling away from the sink to check the cupboards. Much of his food is gone - he had expected that, really, and can cope with running out to get supplies. But...]

Forgive me, Miss Diana. I had wanted to make some tea but it seems all I can offer you is a cup of hot water!

[Diana listens as he explains, committing the details to memory. An explosion, and an illness... one that kept getting worse.] I imagine it must have been very difficult and trying for everyone involved.

[The smile she gives is polite, but very genuine.] Hot water is just fine at the moment. I'll hold you to tea at a later date, once you're back on your feet. Sadly, I can't conjure it from nothing.

And just "Diana" is all right. You don't have to be formal.

[he shall have to take care once the water is ready - from the kettle into the teapot is one thing, but into the cups... he worries it's liable to splash. No matter, though - while the water is boiling he sees to righting some chairs]

I'm always formal. It's strange not to...

[usually it's Mr-this or Miss-that - this is what comes of being raised in a house that sees as many visitors as they Teahouse did. A little gesture]

Please, do sit.

((Things I Have to Stop Doing: writing tags and forgetting to post them. I literally just found four I never sent and just left sitting in their tabs :/))

[Diana pulls out a chair and sits, demurely; Linneus may be able to tell just from how she carries herself that she's either of some High Upbringing or she's just been trained to act like it.] I can empathize... but considering that we're all on the same footing and the same situation here, surely it's best for us to leave that conditioning behind, I think.

If you're more comfortable calling me that, I won't stop you.

For now.

[perhaps he might grow more comfortable with it later, but that depends. His behaviours are more learned, but no less ingrained in him - living in the Teahouse, one has to know how to behave around guests, though he has learned how to be delicate, graceful in his hosting

It's a stark contrast to his style, the cups of hot water he brings over - he hasn't even anything to offer as a snack with it, but he's sure the girl must understand.]

For now, then. [She agrees, sitting politely, waiting until he's sat and placed the cup of hot water in front of her before taking the cup politely in hand.] It's nice just to have something warm in you, I think.

Have you been awake here long?

I agree. Though it would be better, if it were tea...

[well, next time. His hands come around his cup, fingers lacing together loosely]

It's been two months, give or take. But with the sickness and the evacuation, it was so busy that it feels like longer.

Perhaps, but I cannot be picky when even this may be a luxury.

[She frowns, but only slightly.] I did hear about that. It sounds as though it must have been very trying. I'm sorry you had to go through that.

Were you harmed?

[ a light shake of his head]

No, no. A little... perturbed? The whole affair was rather alarming. But it is all past now.

[he just tried to be the biggest help he could be, through it all. Helping care for the sick, learning as much as he could]

Have you any plans for your settling here?

I can understand that, certainly. [She takes a sip of the steaming water.] I haven't planned anything yet. I feel Olympia suits me more than Wyver, at least.

Do you have any recommendations?

[a light shake of his head]

I haven't. Truthfully I have no intention to take sides, even though I am quite comfortable in Olympia.

[all he wants is a peaceful life - the tumult between the two countries, though laid to rest in the face of adversity, is only likely to rear it's head again in. Declaring his allegiance one way or another, for all that he is trying to settle in Olympia, for all that he is comfortable there, will only lead to the eventual disruption of that balance.

Perhaps his striving to make a home here is useless. But at the same time he cannot let a "perhaps" put him off.]

I shall return to Thesa, and withdraw myself from the conflict entirely, if necessary, but I would hate to do that. It is too... strange for me.

[and the idea of the rows of sleepers too unsettling]

[A nod.] I feel the same way. There's something about that place that's too uncomfortably sterile.

The two nations have been cooperating, for the most part, since I've been here. Do you think tensions might flare up again?

[shaking his head and raising his hands; a slight warding gesture-]

Oh, no I couldn't begin to say. Truthfully the politics are quite beyond me, but I'm not sure that picking a side will do much more good that fuel the conflict, should tensions rise again. But I do fear a point will come that individuals are forced to swear fealty to one side or the other...

I understand your point of view. [She gives a little shake of her head, her wavy pale hair shifting back and forth.] If that does happen, though, I would prefer to remain here and try to negotiate peace.

I could do nothing less, as a Cavendish.

Can a peace be negotiated between two factions that have been against each other for so long?

[a thoughtful sip of his tea - no, water. He forgot for a moment and can't help drawing back briefly in surprise before trying again]

My country was at odds for a long time with its neighbour. Never anything so drastic as all-out war, at least certainly not in my lifetime, but it's certain that recently the countries' rulers have grown more peace-minded. They hope - hoped - the marriage of their heirs might consolidate their efforts; bring about a true peace.

As I say, I'm not well-educated in politics - certainly not in the politics of this world, and how the relationship stood before I arrived here. But I don't expect a true union to come about between Wyver and Olympia this way. Honestly, I worry that this present peace is only tenuous at best; and of what may happen should it fail...

A union? No, perhaps not. As you said, there is great enmity between the two and that has been true for some time. No doubt more skilled negotiators than you or I have tried and failed.

[She sighs, softly.] Stopping any flare-up in active hostilities, though... that, I would hope, would be possible.

Or, better yet, preventing it from reaching that in the first place.

I'm not sure how that can be done.

[a slight frown, fingertips toying at the sides of his cup]

I feel like these enmities are always just shy of bubbling up again, even on an individual level.

[She drums her fingers against the table.] Deep-seated hatreds... self-reinforcing ones, even. Each using the other as a scapegoat for the tragedies that befall them.

I confess I don't understand it, really. Even on an intellectual level, I...

[Another sigh, then a sheepish smile.] I'm sorry, I've brought the mood down.

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