A Meeting of Minds

[Jirai]

Avoid the stupid decisions, yes. That was the goal, certainly. Among other things. She smiled as Genny acquiesced, ignoring the slight fall of the other woman's face. That had not, of course, been intended. With that smile, she'd draw the chair off to one side and sit Genny down in it once more. Even in this room, which was largely a work-space, Rhaena has a suitable supply of combs to work with. If no protest is made, she'd begin unpinning Genny's hair, running fingers and comb gently through.

"Perhaps. You have such lovely hair, you know." Even though Rhaena certainly loved dressing her friends, she had other motivations in this. Taking advantage of the contact between herself and Genny, she would gently let her mind touch that of the other woman's. Gently. Subtly. If she was successful, her next words would not be spoken aloud. It is not so much a matter of Myrken or Thessilane. You are both, and that does not diminish, but enriches, whatever some may think.

[Tolleson]

Expectations certainly had her worried, but when at last Genny sat at the mercy of Rhaena and she so gently combed her hair, the red-head visibly relaxed. "Its still... so short," though it sat well with reach of her shoulders she'd certainly worn it longer as a child. However, she either had difficulty accepting compliments or perhaps in her focus on other matters acknowledgement was simply forgotten.

As sweet and gentle as Rhaena was, she had come unannounced and would likely find a measure of resistance. But not from Genny. James had been the one to create the glosstype shield, the protective membrane that encapsulated Genny's mind.

Rhaena had never been into her head before, the experience with her was wholly new and within an instant Genny reached out to her. Quite literally, but not physically. This was not a hallucination, an instance where one might imagine something entire and whole, existing on its own and apart from reality. It was more illusion, the sort of mistaking of one thing for another that caused a second glance. But perhaps Rhaena knew well enough the difference between the tangible and the mental.

As if lost, Genny's hand reached out to her. Projected as physical sensation she would try to feel her face, as if in her mind she was blind. First her long fingers unraveled and then the whole of her hand, as soft and warm and real as ever; though her body remained entirely still.

Rhaena?

[Jirai]

Rhaena was pleased, in truth, to find Genny's mind so shielded. That was one less thing that she would need to take care of. Good. Rhaena did, indeed, know well enough the difference and as she continued her gentle combing of Genny's hair, she would reach back with her mind, 'hands' to close warmly about the other woman's. Very good, Genny. Yes, we can work with this. Both the mental aspect and the hair, as it happened. Rhaena was well able to do both at once, and began plaiting Genny's hair.

[Tolleson]

Just as pleased, if not more, Genny took Rhaena’s hand with delight. But being unpracticed Genny’s body sat in the physical world utterly still aside from even rise and fall of breath, the occasional blink.

The barrier was not brought down, but as if Genny had reached through it and made a hole, there was now an opening. A pathway into some construct of imagined space.

You can? This is wonderful! But she hardly needed to say it, the joyful feelings were almost tangible in this space. The air itself was thick with the emotion and rolled in uncontrolled waves, carrying with them the nuances of excitement, eagerness, and all that Genny had already told Rhaena about her wishes.

Genny might appear to her then, in the mental space between, as the vague an ethereal solidified into a sort of recollection of reality; a perceived body and space that had a floor and sense of place. She was tall, and pretty, and every bit as she looked aside from the fire atop her head. Her hair at its root was hair, a brilliant and saturated red, and as it came away from her face it flew up in a flurry of dancing flames. The fire was constant, it seemed to require no fuel nor did it appear to burn where it touched.

If Rhaena knew how Catch saw Genny in his own mind, perhaps the representation seemed familiar.

[Jirai]

Now, with Genny so well distracted by their internal conversation, Rhaena began sneaking bits of ribbons and even a bell or two into the other woman's hair as she braided it, quite pleased with herself.

Meanwhile, she had been welcomed through the shield by flame-haired Genny. Rhaena herself, in this space, looked no different than she did in the real world. But with her, she brought emotions. Controlled, carefully controlled, but even with that she could not stop the gentle seeping of happiness and peace of mind if, in fact, she was entirely aware of it. Oh, most certainly. She answered pleasantly. And I am glad to find the shield. Can you reach out, yourself?

[Tolleson]

Bell and baubles, ribbons, nothing woke her even as her eyes stared straight and she seemed entirely

Yes, but it is arduous with people that I haven't talked with before... like this.

Not that she needed to explain herself, Rhaena likely knew what she meant. As she spoke the world around them would begin to realize and populate a more familiar setting, intricate details too; the library in Myrken, specific volumes lay open on the table, the sunlight forever stuck at that perfect moment in the afternoon as it came streaming through a window catching every particle of dust before its warm and glowing light illuminated dusty tomes. Shelves formed from nothing, books, tables, walls, the stairs, the ceiling, it all became clear as if a lens passed over it and from blurry nothing came something real and concrete. The colors were saturated and it smelled, it felt, it tasted like the very room where Genny studied.

I could with Zilliah, but I already knew the path.

And then she thought, and perhaps it was conveyed in feeling more than words, about how she had tried to show Glenn. She'd tried to make contact with him in the sort of way Rhaena connected with her now. She wouldn't be in his mind as he had warned. But he didn't want her, even if it meant only coming into her world. Perhaps he didn't trust her. Was that guilt lingering in the thought that passed then?

[Tolleson]

Bell and baubles, ribbons, nothing woke her even as her eyes stared open, straight ahead; as if focusing on some distant thing ever so intently.

Yes, but it is arduous with people that I haven't talked with before... like this.

Not that she needed to explain herself, Rhaena likely knew what she meant. As she spoke the world around them would begin to realize and populate a more familiar setting, intricate details too; the library in Myrken, specific volumes lay open on the table, the sunlight forever stuck at that perfect moment in the afternoon as it came streaming through a window catching every particle of dust before its warm and glowing light illuminated dusty tomes. Shelves formed from nothing, books, tables, walls, the stairs, the ceiling, it all became clear as if a lens passed over it and from blurry nothing came something real and concrete. The colors were saturated and it smelled, it felt, it tasted like the very room where Genny studied.

I could with Zilliah, but I already knew the path.

And then she thought, and perhaps it was conveyed in feeling more than words, about how she had tried to show Glenn. She'd tried to make contact with him in the sort of way Rhaena connected with her now. She wouldn't be in his mind as he had warned. But he didn't want her, even if it meant only coming into her world. Perhaps he didn't trust her. Was that guilt lingering in the thought that passed then?

[Jirai]

Yes, it will be at first. We will work on that, then, and ensuring that you can protect yourself.

In the real world, Rhaena's fingers did their nimble work even while her bronze eyes were unfocused. In Genny's mind, the woman remained serene in her happiness while watching, listening, and feeling Genny. She offered reassurances of her own, unspoken but not unfelt, certainly. Genny had nothing to feel guilt over, of that Rhaena was certain.

Glenn dislikes magic, and not without reason. Zilliah, on the other hand, tends to use his without thought of the consequences. Be cautious of that.

[Tolleson]

While outwardly Genny would have been guarded about how she felt about Zilliah, in her vulnerable state it would be far too evident to Rhaena. But there were, obviously some, perhaps too many people she deeply for and trusted implicitly.

With good reason, I venture. Glenn has changed so much.

Her tone might have been proud, pensive, reflective even, if she'd said the words outright. But here the emotions rushed like a physical force and memories manifested themselves into tangible things. This Genny was overcome by it, as if suddenly quite dizzy, her visage fluctuating to a younger version of herself. The room dimmed and threatened to change entirely, the din of the Dagger's kitchen echoed and the wordless sound of a younger Glenn's voice pervaded the air. A likeness of the tarnished silver dagger he'd given her materializing as real as anything else, atop a splayed book. Even though he'd chided her for being senseless and ill-prepared to defend herself, it was a memory filled with a sort of awakening, gratitude, even affection for the young mapmaker.

The memory would pass, no sooner had it come and it was gone again. Flame hair Genny righting herself and standing, bare feet on the bare floor; the light and world well again. Except it wasn't, shadows lingered passively as if in the very far corner of vision, moving ever so slightly, so a good look could never be had.

I'm sorry

And she was, genuinely and for more reasons than could ever be explained with words. An apology for her lack of control over this new shared world, for not restraining the emotion of her own mind, for a memory being what it was.

[Tolleson]

While outwardly Genny would have been guarded about how she felt about Zilliah, in her vulnerable state it would be far too evident to Rhaena. But there were, obviously some, perhaps too many people she deeply cared for and trusted implicitly.

With good reason, I venture. Glenn has changed so much.

Her tone might have been proud, pensive, reflective even, if she'd said the words outright. But here the emotions rushed like a physical force and memories manifested themselves into tangible things. This Genny was overcome by it, as if suddenly quite dizzy, her visage fluctuating to a younger version of herself. The room dimmed and threatened to change entirely, the din of the Dagger's kitchen echoed and the wordless sound of a younger Glenn's voice pervaded the air. A likeness of the tarnished silver dagger he'd given her materializing as real as anything else, atop a splayed book. Even though he'd chided her for being senseless and ill-prepared to defend herself, it was a memory filled with a sort of awakening, gratitude, even affection for the young mapmaker.

The memory would pass, no sooner had it come and it was gone again. Flame hair Genny righting herself and standing, bare feet on the bare floor; the light and world well again. Except it wasn't, shadows lingered passively as if in the very far corner of vision, moving ever so slightly, so a good look could never be had.

I'm sorry

And she was, genuinely and for more reasons than could ever be explained with words. An apology for her lack of control over this new shared world, for not restraining the emotion of her own mind, for a memory being what it was.

[Jirai]

Rhaena is, but for that quiet leaking of emotions that she seems unaware of, doing her best to hold herself back slightly from Genny. The other woman is vulnerable right now, and Rhaena has no interest in intruding. There is only so much that she can do, though, with Genny so open. So she sees, she feels, and returns in kind. Would Genny have imagined Rhaena to be upset by any of this? She would be mistaken. Rhaena was in a good humor, with a touch of amusement - not directed at Genny, oh no - a flash of the deep affection she felt for Glenn, and underlying it all a simple joy in being here, in doing this, in this very moment.

Haven't we all?

There were flashes then, quick little things. A younger Rhaena, with two good hands. Her brother Kals laughing his barrel-laugh. A mug of ale shared with Agnieszka. Glenn Burnie, certainly, even Genny herself. Flick, flick, flick, from one to the next. Then gone.

You will learn. I do not think that opening up will be your problem, but rather the opposite. That will take focus.

[Tolleson]

Flickering memories come as a reassurance, the joy only more so. These memories and faces Rhaena share are concise, organized, and comforting - all familiar to her, all friends. The landscape of Genny's mind was overgrown and wild, her emotions came plainly here because there had never been a need for another way. But Rhaena was confident, so she would be as well.

Focus...

Flame hair Genny smiles, strong, proud but there is a sudden surge of water, no higher than their ankles as it ebbs and part of the library collapses into a view of the beach somewhere near Orvere. Even she is surprised, dismayed to find a young red-headed girl crying as taunting shadows snatched away her book, throwing it far into the dark waters. The ocean whispers in the background, the clamor and cawing of the boys is nothing compared to the memory of betrayal she feels watching her brother among them. And all around the library the open books begin to sob.

Something is wrong here. In a moment the room is gone, vanished and Rhaena may find the new space small and quite sparse. The threadbare walls here have been cracked and crudely patched, no, healed as if it was more scar tissue than plaster. A young Genny, a child, an embodiment, not a memory; soaked to the bone and clutching a seaweed adorned tome, half as big as herself, stares with big, green, hopeful eyes up at Rhaena from behind the flame haired woman.

Teach me, please

Ever polite, even here, in the crawl space of her own mind.

[Jirai]

It is a sight that could break a heart, watching the taunting of the child. It's a sight that brings tears to Rhaena's bronze eyes, her own emotions becoming, for a moment, a mirror of the child's hurt. Just for a moment, then calm happiness reasserts itself, although not quite so strong as before.

Division. She offers up after a moment. A part of your mind for this, and a wave encompasses herself, and a part just for you. That is something we should practice.

And, if she could, she would reach out to that child, hurting at the sight of the soaked child, wanting nothing more than to wrap the girl in a hug.

[Tolleson]

Had the slip been caught, did she feel and see and know the emotion? If so, she made no indication.

A division?

Neither one spoke with their mouth, it was simply the singular voice of Genny as Rhaena might hear it in the world - the sound of thought. Flame Genny stands unmoving, but not the frozen and abandoned still of her physical body. Planted and watching she is every bit a part and aware as the soaked child goes to Rhaena. In an embrace she will feel no different from the physical Genny; a real and soft, fleshy and warm presence. The child doesn't feel cold or wet at all, and yet she is and will be forever. The water never dries, the icy drops from her hair never cease, her lips remaining always with the slightest tinge of blue. Locked in the exact moment of a memory that only her own perception of herself can change. But it doesn't seem to bother her, the re-living of the memory now past.

It is safe here, this place did not exist before. The nightmares do not enter here.

A division might help. But there were things, strange things. If Rhaena releases the child, she will attempt to open the book; splaying it out on a rudimentary construct of a floor.

[Jirai]

Yes, a safe place. But... This here is not exactly what she meant, and there are several things in Genny's words that concern the woman. What nightmares?

Rhaena wanted to hold the poor child forever, until she could see the child warm and dry and happy, but some things are not to be. Not yet, at least. She lets go of the child-Genny after a moment, watching curiously as the book is opened.