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Post by moralhazard on May 7, 2019 22:13:23 GMT
Kara picked up her ale and took another long drink from it, eyes widened slowly as Honeybun played. She didn’t think she’d ever heard anything like it. In a weird way, it reminded her of some of the dwarven war ballads she’d heard. Not the ones sung at the fire during peace times; the one she’d heard during the resistance, when they were ground down to nothing, huddled together for another long night, with no food or water and precious little hope. There was no discussion of performing, no agreements or schedules. Some nights, it just – happened, chords and voices melding together out of the darkness, as if music was the only thing that…
Kara remembered, abruptly, why she didn’t like to listen to music much anymore.
Kara listened, still and silent. She took another sip of the ale; it tasted maudlin, suddenly. She lowered the mug and kept her gaze fixed firmly on Honeybun, all of her attention devoted to the little rabbit’s performance. It was the strangest song Kara had ever heard but there was an energy, an intensity to it, that seemed to touch something inside her.
When Honeybun finished, Kara didn’t say anything. She just – nodded, her hands held in tight fists in her lap, her gaze dropping from the rabbit to fix on the stool beneath her.
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Post by enchilada on May 8, 2019 15:24:45 GMT
Honey sat again, and then she started feeling in all the grooves of the instrument with her fingers — it made her smile, at least, it made her feel as though she was smiling. It had a diffferent expression, but she didn’t ever expect anyone to learn her own reactions to things. Honeybun, mostly, just wanted to be understood. She supposed everyone did.
“So?”
She leaned in, towards Kara again, expectantly. She wasn’t sure at all what she’d thought of it, and while she could guess, she’d prefer that Kara spoke her mind. Guessing felt pretty rude.
Plus, if she was wrong, then that could lead to some nasty misunderstandings and she was absolutely not about that. Openness was really the only way to go, in life and in research. Everyone had to help everyone else out. That was fair.
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Post by moralhazard on May 8, 2019 21:25:35 GMT
Kara looked up from the stool to Honeybun’s face. She could barely read the expression of most of the people she talked to; the rabbit was entirely inscrutable to her. All the same, there was really only one thing the question could mean. What had Kara thought of it?
Kara took a long time to answer. She couldn’t help it. It was hard to know what to say. The normal words she might use to describe music – nice, beautiful, pleasant – seemed to fall very short in describing what she had thought of Honeybun’s song. Her hands were still tight fists in her lap.
After a moment, and a long slow exhale, Kara opened her mouth. “It was… powerful,” she said, quietly, looking up at Honeybun then down again. She wasn’t sure if it was right to say that she had liked it or enjoyed it. She had, but it had made her uncomfortable as well, had brought up feelings that she didn’t have any interest in sharing. It seemed dishonest to her to mention one but not the other, so Kara felt she had better stay silent on that.
After a moment, it would become clear that Kara, perhaps, did not share Honeybun’s valuing of openness. That seemed to be the only thing she had to say, at least without further probing (and maybe even with it).
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Post by enchilada on May 8, 2019 22:09:26 GMT
Honeybun nodded. Hell yeah it was powerful.
“I know. Good to see you have ears.” She put the instrument up on the bar, with a tender look towards it. Honey valued knowledge, but mostly fun. And her dulcimer was extremely fun. It was a font of creation, it was her way of pulling on the weave and twisting it around herself as she saw fit. It was also really cool-looking.
Honeybun didn’t care if Kara liked it. It made a response in her, that’s all she cared about. It felt like something, it pulled at something. That was all she aimed to achieve. If there were people who liked it, then that meant she could make a bit of money, sure, but she didn’t need that. She needed emotion, energy, electricity in the instrument. Real music.
“So, where do you usually hang out?” Honeybun was cautious that, for her, she’d drank pretty fast. It did fit to her sort of, uncaring, live life, fast paced kind of idealised life, but it didn’t necessarily feel so great, and she knew it could probably be dangerous. “I tend to flit between libraries.”
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Post by moralhazard on May 9, 2019 0:33:43 GMT
Honeybun nodded, and Kara exhaled a little in relief. She was glad that apparently her answer was enough for the rabbit songwriter; she really didn’t know what else she could have said. Anything else felt very – personal, to share with a near-stranger in the midst of a bar.
Kara lifted her ale again, taking another sip. Now that the music had stopped, it just tasted like ale again. Kara tried to forgot about it, all of it, focusing her mind back on the conversation.
Where did she hang out? Kara blinked. She didn’t know anything about libraries, and she didn’t… wouldn’t really have said she hung out anywhere. “Uh,” Kara said after a moment. “I… work?” Kara blinked. “Taverns and inns, mostly. Warehouses.”
After another moment, Kara added. “The Gathering, most weeks.” She liked the Gathering, the weekly meet up of eager warriors from across the city where she pitted her skills against Helmites and various other warriors. She supposed she would describe training there as hanging out.
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Post by enchilada on May 9, 2019 18:39:16 GMT
Honeybun thought it over carefully. Work. That didn’t sound like the funnest thing in the world, but then again, she’d watched that fight with the magic. That looked cool as hell. She imagined Kara must live an incredibly varied life, even if it, on the surface, seemed monotonous. And while Honeybun tried to spice up her interactions, do different things in different places, her days usually amounted to more or less living at libraries and places of research, then practicing her instrument. With so few opportunities for real action. For a second she longed to live like Kara — and then she remembered that, as much as she would point out that in ninety-nine percent of cases, it didn’t make a difference... she was a rabbit. And rabbits couldn’t really take being punched particularly hard.
And then, the Gathering.
She had literally no idea what that could be. Honeybun was well versed in some areas, and liked to think she knew a bit about everything, but so far she hadn’t encountered much about any Gathering. It was pretty vague. The word felt stressed and important, alone it was complete, not like a gathering of intellectuals. No offence to Kara, but, she probably wouldn’t fit in in such a place anyway. So what was it? Well. If you wanted to know, find the source. “What’s that?”
Simple enough.
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Post by moralhazard on May 9, 2019 21:42:31 GMT
Kara paused. Of course; most people in Waterdeep didn’t know about the Gathering. Most especially, Kara imagined, magic users wouldn’t know about it. Clerics probably excepted, but she knew already that Honeybun wasn’t a cleric.
“It’s…” Kara took another sip of ale, puzzling over how to explain. After a moment, she nodded, satisfied with what she’d come up with. “… a training space. A battlegrounds,” Kara shrugged faintly. “For those who worship Helm, but also any who wish to test their skills in combat.” That was how Kara had heard it explained, at least. Better not to try to come up with her own explanation.
If there was anywhere in Waterdeep that Kara belonged, anywhere that she had chosen, it was with the Helmites. At the Gathering, she was accepted. She wasn’t sure if she had friends there, not exactly, but there were – comrades, some at least. Rolond Dundragon was the one Kara was closest too. She hadn’t seen him in a few days, not since – not since he had learned about Sundabar. Kara wasn’t sure which of them wasn’t avoiding the other.
It was better not to think about such things. Kara took another sip of her ale; she was making good progress so far, and had finished nearly half of her mug.
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Post by enchilada on May 10, 2019 16:25:05 GMT
Honeybun tilted her head, then tilted it the other way. She’d done... a lot of research, in a small amount of time. She was never entirely sure when she knew something for certain, and then, rather suddenly, she felt she did.
Briefly, she’d looked at the gods. They were interesting, but certainly not something she figured she’d wrap herself up in too much. That said, the concept of it was one she found a little comforting. Rabbits didn’t have gods, or words, or thoughts. Not really. But she did. And Honeybun was able to think, a lot, about whatever she decided to. If she had to pin herself down, a knowledge god, she thought, would be appropriate. Honeybun didn’t really worship, but she occasionally would think about gods in relation to herself and those around her.
Occasionally.
But Helm? Maybe... protection? It sounded right. She wasn’t entirely sure. His domains hadn’t appealed to him enough to really get into any detail.
“Yeah, that sounds cool. Not my bag, for obvious reasons, but that’s interesting, for sure. Is it a form of worship?” Honeybun asked. It sounded like it could be. There were ways other than tributes and prayer. Song and dance, honouring one’s body, and the mind, food, magic... there were lots of ways. Some ways even included suffering. Those were for the gods that were a bit weird, though.
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Post by moralhazard on May 10, 2019 20:02:03 GMT
Kara looked down at the rabbit, and blinked. She nodded.
So few seemed to understand the Gathering. Kara had heard many of those there fail to understand it; even some of those who worshipped Helm seemed not to realize. For most of those who came to the Gathering in Helm’s name, training was as much a prayer of the prayer as the prayers themselves. Helm commanded them to be prepared; what better way to honor him than with combat, and combat readiness?
Kara found herself even more impressed with Honeybun.
“Not for all,” Kara said after a moment, feeling like she had to be fair to the penetrating observation. She was quiet, mulling it over, and then added, “But – for me - and others – yes.”
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Post by enchilada on May 10, 2019 20:16:40 GMT
Honeybun nodded, quite pleased with herself, evidently. It carried in her body language. She didn’t see the point in trying to hide her feelings. If she was pleased, she was pleased, if she was angry, she was angry, and people should know about it. Otherwise, she’d just be keeping all her emotions inside, and then she’d die. And really, she should be showing off the fact that she was able to feel what she did, as much as possible. Emotions were what separated society and beasts, that, and decent hygiene. Although, looking around Waterdeep, maybe that didn’t apply too much.
“That’s interesting, you know. Are you aware of the other forms of worship for other gods? Of course, they’re not always applicable. I’ve read about so many. That’s why I guessed — you have a group of religious people, you all do something, it tends to be some kind of personal ceremony. When you study people, and culture, and things, they all quickly become rather... predictable.”
She absentmindedly stroked her right ear, bringing it down to her head, from above, where it was sticking up, listening to Kara, but one ear to the door. Habits never change. It wasn’t even a habit, it was in her very being. Honeybun had never worried about predators in her life, never seen one, but she still worried. If she saw a fox, though, she was sure she’d win.
“Just like me, really. I’m rather predictable.” Her ear sprang back as she spoke. Honey was being vague, but really she was referring to petting. Honeybun was still a pet — she still liked it.
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Post by moralhazard on May 11, 2019 3:03:52 GMT
Kara thought to herself that the rabbit almost looked – pleased? She wasn’t exactly sure what gave her that impression, but she felt it rather strongly. It was a little odd to think she could try to tell a rabbit’s feelings from its body language.
Kara shook her head. She paused. “Tyr and Torm,” she amended. She knew a bit about Tyr and Torm, although mostly Tyr. Plenty of those in Sundabar worshipped at the Hall of Everlasting Justice, and Tyr’s clerics had worked with the Stone Shields often enough, before and after the war.
People were predictable? Kara shrugged. People to her were anything but predictable – unless they were in combat. When it came to fighting, she could guess what her opponent would do; much how Grigor had always told her chess was. When it came to conversations, though, Kara could never even tell what someone meant, let alone what they’d do.
“You? Predictable?” Kara was surprised enough that the questions slipped out. She blinked at Honeybun, and took another sip of ale, trying to process. Predictable was probably the last word she’d have used to describe the small rabbit who played some of the oddest music Kara had ever heard, and was remarkably insightful to boot. She thought Honeybun anything but predictable; she could never have, in a thousand years, expected her.
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Post by enchilada on May 11, 2019 13:30:40 GMT
Honeybun nodded. She could tell that Kara had decided to look at things... not necessarily incorrectly, but just, not quite in the way she had meant to enlighten her to peer upon.
People were predictable. Everyone had a cookie cutter mindset. You just had to figure out which cutter the gods used when they were making the cookie. Kara was, to Honey, a simple enough shape. But she was cool, so, that was fine. Not everything had to be super complex. She knew she was a weirder shape, harder to pin down, but really, there were maybe two or three to look for, and then you had it. The Honeybun cookie.
“Don’t try to predict me coming into your life and telling you a whole bunch of booksmart garbage, just think about me as me. I’m a rabbit, and, for a rabbit, quite predictable. I like vegetables, I like to run around. I have a lot of restless energy. I’m also one of those book nerds, so that’s fairly predictable. Mostly, I think I’m an artist. And when you start to look at things like that... they’re predictable.”
“You try one. Try to make someone else into their basic shapes. You could do you, but don’t tell me who it is. I’ll try to predict where they’ll be tomorrow, and I’ll tell you if I find them.”
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Post by moralhazard on May 11, 2019 14:37:13 GMT
To break someone into their basic shapes?
Kara lowered her eyes to the bar, thinking hard. What were her basic shapes? She was a fighter - a warrior. Not a guard, not anymore. She was... Kara’s mind skittered to a halt there and failed. She wasn’t anything else, really. Not anyone. Once she had been - a daughter. Once she had...
Honeybun had said she could do someone else. Kara latched onto that. “An artist,” she said, slowly. “And - a merchant.” Kara was quiet, puzzling him over in her mind. There was more to him, but she didn’t know how to put it into words. He drank; he drank too much and didn’t eat enough. He was strong but he didn’t know it, not yet. He would; Kara had pledged that long ago. He was kind. He fluttered and - “Like a butterfly,” Kara said, not sure if she was getting the exercise right. “Beautiful and -“ Kara made a fluttery gesture with one hand.
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Post by enchilada on May 11, 2019 15:16:11 GMT
Honeybun played with her empty glass, tilting it around in her hand. She looked at it intently, the way the pattern of the wood was distorted. As she did so, she thought long and hard about how to string together this artist-merchant-butterfly-person. Kara hadn’t let slip the gender, that made things an ounce more difficult in her treasure hunt, but, she would manage.
“So, if they’re selling things, probably going to be selling them in a market of some description. They’re an artist too, so, selling their stuff? No, you wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise, so. I’m going to take a rather big guess here, and say they sell something appealing to the eye. That could probably be anything. Perhaps they sell something practical but still lovely, I mean, if this is a friend of yours... you know, just quality goods but they are prettier than anything cheaper. Butterfly is interesting. You would have thought that someone who managed to sell anything in Waterdeep of all places would be stronger, not an insect, so fragile and dainty. If you touch it, it falls apart and dies, but you can look at it. Maybe they’re not about substance after all. But, then again, Waterdeep, strong personalities, merchant, shouty market.”
Honey just couldn’t get the last piece to fit in correctly. Maybe Kara had picked the wrong bits of information.
She nodded, all the same.
“I’ll do my best. People are predictable.”
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Post by moralhazard on May 11, 2019 15:53:30 GMT
“No!” Kara’s eyes were wide. “No - I - I said the wrong thing.” She didn’t like at all the way Honeybun was characterizing Dhaunmyr. She didn’t think he would be found in a shouty market, but then, honestly, she didn’t really know what he did all day.
Anyway it wasn’t the conclusion that bothered her; it was the rest of it. Dhaunmyr was beautiful like a butterfly, but he wasn’t weak and he was - he had - substance.
Kara realized she had shouted and scowled, looking down at her drink. She picked up the mug, sloshing it from side to side, then set it down and frowned at Honeybun. She didn’t care about the game anymore. “He isn’t - fragile. He only thinks he is.”
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