Bye has equations of his own in his head, different ones, and he can't really help with anything. He broods and fidgets and mumbles to himself.
Fredrik, the older boy with a serious face, comes over to Bye while the others are halfway done with the cage. Showing a bit of kindness to the strange sylph, he asks few questions about a certain red alloy that goodpriest edmund had mentioned after his singular vision. They talk for a few minutes, and Bye seems slighly more at ease now.
Perhaps there is a better way. A bridge starting with forgiveness.
Zeph, I'm imagining that lost post, and I'm sure Bye was talked down for now. He's not willing to talk about anything else until tomorrow (same with Gull, he is being led around by Fredrik right now)
I know re-typing a good post that was lost can feel discouraging and pointless, so I wanted to let you know - no pressure.
Are you bringing Gamberino with you? I'm curious as to your reasoning, but feel free to RP it with me after this conversation.
"One more is alright. But not more than that. Too many eyes, too many questions in them."
Bye is easily distracted, and refuses to answer many of the questions. For a long time now, you've been used to responsive, intellectually curious adults in your life, and you are unable to emotionally connect with this sulky, mumbling el. Unlike treating an infection or a broken bone, the subject has to be willing to meet you halfway - there is no forcing therapy down a patient's throat.
As the testing wears on, Bye becomes more and more insistent about the time. "We still haven't found it. When are we going to find the time so we can leave?"
The addled sylph struggles to tell you his name as you make you way into the building. "Bribing. Bry- No. Ryan. Bright. " He begins breathing harder, struggling to continue talking. "Bye. Rrrrye." His jaw clenches from the effort, then he seems to give up. "D-damn it.
"Moon took it away. I can't think about my name anymore. I know it's there. It drives me crazy, and I know it's there but my name is Bye. It's like I'm saying Bye to my memories of myself.
not addressed to anyone in particular
"Yes." He takes your hand like a drowning person, clinging desperately to rescue.
are you leaving town to regroup? let me know your plan
Anyone who is trained, roll a knowledge religion check OR a knowledge planes to see when Moon's power will be weakest today. This is NOT a constant from day to day.
"They'll be coming soon. Lightning comes from the Sky and they're dangerous and they'll hurt you and me too. Im' just trying to find the time, and then I can leave!" He voice is raising in pitch now.
it's likely that his commotion will bring the attention of the lightning elementals from across the square (they are still far into that alleyway, but many of you have sensed them from afar, and they will be drawn by noise)
As Fury follows Zephyr's plan, the muttering sylph suddenly stops in his tracks, like a startled rabbit. "Who's there?"
This would all be in Sylphan, which means Fury could understand him
He rubs his eyes, his hands leaking magic. He casts something like see invisibility, but with other components riding along. A bit of green-ray acid eats away at the stable wall, which the mage appears not to notice.
Squinting, he sees Fury. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and then begins weeping noisily. "I'm sorry! How many times can I say it? Are you some last piece of Sky come to kill me? Empty my lungs in some painful bleeding vengeance? I thought the clouds were good! I thought they were you!" He falls to his knees, pounding the ground.
"I don't care anymore. I thought the cwmwl was good. I thought it was good."
esoteric sylphan/maker word for cloud. Roughly pronounced keeyoom-yool
Zephyr, a sylph with a wild look in his eyes peers around the stables and on the ground. He seems to be confident in his invisibility. He doesn't look up, so he doesn't see any mysterious gasses that may or may not be floating above him.
"Gotta figure out what time it is..." he mutters to himself. He is not acting as though he is aware of anyone from your group.
As you turn a corner past an apothecary, you nearly run into a sylph that is wearing a labcoat sullied with yellow sweatstains and charcoal smudges. His eyebrows are completely singed away, and his hair is also a strange, sickly yellow. He is mumbling to himself, but without so much as a pause for breath, he starts talking to you.
"What-are-you-doing-here-we-don't-need-volcano-here-or-any-of-your-temple- mysticism-" He trails off, frowning, waiting for a response.