queenoflogs | (no subject)

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k0kka
Date: 2/20
Summary: Old ladies meeting.
Warnings: N/A

Another curse settled on the Garden... Paderau had barely managed to push herself back onto her feet after Echidna's mulct and already there were creatures running loose in the gardens again. It's disorienting, without her order there to stand beside her, it is a great deal of responsibility on her shoulders and she cannot shrink from it.

Still, she has not rushed out into battle this time, lingering around the necessities to keep the critters at bay, and to heal those who come in search of shelter.

She is not the only one with that idea it seems.

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With a protection spell securely around her house and her helpers inside it, Dejana has gone out to search for the injured. But something catches her attention--a presence she's only felt from a distance, now closer than before. A unique one, and not one of the Queen's, either.

Plain wooden staff in hand, she doesn't look like much: an ordinary middle-aged woman, with calloused hands and a distant expression. But on the inside she brims with power, pale green ribbons of light flickering at her core. Power of knowing and making, now spread out around her in a wavering cloud, searching for those in need.

She stops, leaning on her staff, becoming aware of that presence, and certain at the same time that it--she--is aware of her.

Yeah, aware of her is a good way to put it, but then she had been the whole time. Mahalia has been glued to the lady's skirts for a few days now, and nobody got that close to Jast's daughter without Paderau doing a thorough background check. It's different meeting in person though, really watching the way all the energy curls and froths at the center of her. The warden herself is a smaller creature, powerful in her own way but contained to the tasks of her station, varied as they might be.

Paderau comes up to greet her, a wry expression on her mouth. She could tell from across the garden that this lady was a few times her age and her experience, and with all these clueless teenagers around, that was a little comforting.

"How's it going?"

"Better than expected, I'd say." She eases casually into the conversation, speaking as if they've known each other for a while now--and in a way they have, though without the traditional greetings. It's refreshing to meet someone who knows things, a rare occurrence even in all the years she's lived.

She smiles, and it's weary like all her others, yet steady.

"It seems like most people heeded my warning--or at least have the sense not to get themselves killed."

Paderau gives a wry smile in return. She's pretty casual and friendly with everyone, although not everyone that she makes the offer to returns it in kind. Society did that to people, and Paddy was pretty okay with being a bit detached from it.

"Or got someone looking out for them, I'm proud they've been lookin' after each other."

Plenty of the girls still bitched themselves hoarse, but they stood together, in the end, even the most frigid of them.

"Well, as they say...a common enemy unites the most unlikely allies." She shrugs a bit, straightening. She decides to hazard a guess.

"You're Paderau, correct? Mahalia spoke well of you."

"Yeah, that'd be me. Holli's a good girl."

A little too prissy for her own damn good, but she meant well and that was good in her book.

"She was a great help with the injured. Steady hands." She inclines her head in what must be a bow. "I'm known as Dejana, in case she hasn't spoken of me yet." A formality she doesn't mind--she's aware how easy it is to learn names here, being able to watch other people's conversations on the Vine.

"Your power is new to me, so I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the formalities required toward one of your position." She has a feeling the other woman will scoff at her, but she's looking for a reaction more than anything, so that's just fine.

Paderau gives a rueful little smile. She's been keeping her eye on Mahalia, heard bits and pieces here and there. She's got no problem with a formal introduction, but...

"Baby, I'm a servant. It'd be formal of me to tell you 'you need not trouble yourself with my name, I am but a humble warden' and if you insisted, I should tell you how touched I am that you care for my individuality in my service."

Her smile smile goes a little wider, running her hand back through her hair. "I don't think much of formalities though. So my name's Paderau, and you're pretty sparkly to me to, old lady. But I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

She smiles in return, one of her few genuine ones. " 'Sparkly'. I like that." Paderau's irreverence is charming, to say the least.

"It's nothing special. Just versatile." She extends a hand, palm up, an invitation. "It works better through contact."

It's another test in itself, what seems like it should be too trusting a move for someone she's barely met. Nothing harmful, just an opportunity to gauge reactions.

Charming isn't the word everybody would use, but she has her fans. Yggdrasil thinks she's a riot, so does the Morrigan's warbird, and Abe had thought she was funny before he went on got himself killed. Paderau's happy with that fanclub, knows that no matter what guff comes out her mouth she's gonna do what's right at the end of the day.

Paderau offers out her hand easily. There's a little shrieking piece of her, shrill and insistent, that tells her she shouldn't, that she's already let too much danger work its way into her core. But... she trusts Dejana, that voice insists she shouldn't, but Paderau's gotten pretty damn used to going with her gut when it comes to people.

"Give it to me, baby." And Hell, irreverence is nice cover for uncertainty anyway.

Her hands are callused and scarred from hard labor, farm work. Honest enough hands. She grasps Paderau's lightly but firmly, letting her get a physical feel before anything else.

Then she shifts her power through her skin, something that's as natural as breathing to her now. Opens her connections, letting the warden decide where to go instead of forcing herself in. Communicating is so much easier for her this way, in direct thought-concepts instead of words or images. She lets them float on the surface, the important ones; how she can feel everything down to the smallest atom, how she's spent lifetimes memorizing the signature of every one. In order to sense them, know them, manipulate them. Skeletal and muscle structures of humans and animals, all preserved in perfect detail in her memory. She focuses on mending, rejoining, nurturing. She's known destruction in the past, and this is so much more worthwhile.

There is a deep sadness there, lying in a layer of ink underneath it all, but she pushes it away gently, as if to say pay it no heed. Not trying to cover it, though, since she has a feeling Paderau of all people should understand it. Longevity always comes with loss, constant and insatiable.

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fff I am so late sorry

party don't start 'til you walk in 8V

/o/

\o\

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ahhh I lost this tag somehow ;o;

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