middaeg | [closed] On Wednesdays we wear red

Who: Merrin and Melisandre
When: Sometime in Aguril
Where: Aefenglom - Shopping District
What: Local cryptids shop for their new place
Warnings: n/a

[ wrapping her head around the idea of having a home was a trial for merrin's first weeks. on dathomir her home was the temple, built by the first nightsister clan within a hollowed cavern. the dwellings were cramped and as a child she shared a small room only meant for rest. there was no comfort in it and none was ever expected. now she must adapt to different ways.

she doesn't know what she needs yet, but made a list of what she wants. part-time jobs have given her enough savings if she is thrifty with her selections at least. there are so many shops though and the sight of so much life threatens to overwhelm her. it is a feeling she has accepted more than her first days here when she was terrified of fireworks. at least now she steps onto the street more confident. having a new friend helps. ]

It still surprises me each time I come here - how many shops there are. [ she remarks, holding her paper list folded in one hand. ] It seems almost excessive.

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I understand this well.

⟪ in one way or the other. asshai had a bazaar, and thriving trade by the port every day, but 'thriving' and 'asshai' were a complicated, often quiet, not severely populated concept. ⟫

It took me... a while to get used to the crowds once I had left the temple. ⟪ and the look on the lady selyse's face when she suggested that dragonstone, a gloomy, isolated castle, was somehow 'crowded' to her. ⟫ The selection of things is strange as well. Are you used to choosing to taste?

⟪ somehow, she doubts it – temples of all sorts often insisted on uniformity over personal preferences, in her experience. ⟫

Never. [ she says with a gentle laugh in that word, amused by the thought. ] To want for anything more than what was provided was unthinkable. No one even dared to ask.

[ that melisandre could leave at all is a shock to merrin, who never once dreamed of leaving dathomir until a certain jedi came looking for hope. she sometimes wonders where they would have gone, had she not been suddenly whisked away here through a mirror. ]

But, we are no longer with our temples. We must make our own choices. There is freedom in it... and danger in the unknown. [ the unknown being the absolute daunting number of stores, traders who may be less than honest, and making sure they get all they need in the end. ] What is on your list to obtain today? If you wrote one?

⟪ as a priestess, she had had the option to make requests, and in westeros, she had been granted rank enough to make an order of it. selyse had suggested all sorts of things that seemed ludicrous, but were necessary all the same, if only to maintain the airs of her station.

still, she is sympathetic to the struggle of choices. the first one to be truly her own was that of leaving, and every single one thereafter felt like a challenge in some way. how far she's come, to make so many, so quickly.

she reveals a small paper of her own, covered in a short list in melisandre's neat, if somehow awfully old-fashioned handwriting. ⟫

I believe the first I put down is my want for a proper hairbrush. ⟪ her smile is almost bashful - it's not the most necessary of items, but one she does truly want. ⟫ Next to what our rites require, matters of personal grooming seem quite important. As of much else: curtains, the place is sadly lacking and we'll both be sure to want the privacy.

⟪ she frowns at her list, which goes on beyond that. thankfully, the part-time jobs do pay decently (by westerosi standards, which does not say much), so there is a little coin to go around. ⟫ What of you?

[ a restrained smile widens at the mention of a hairbrush, as she can't begin to imagine what pains melisandre must go through to maintain her long hair. merrin is thankful the nightsisters were made to keep theirs short, or go bald entirely. beauty was not their objective, and served only to distract. ]

I did not even think of curtains. You are right that we will need them. [ she never had to worry about privacy on dathomir. no one was there to see her. ] As for my list, I do want to find comfortable bed sheets. Mattresses are so soft and I would like something that matches that feeling.

Then there are candles, effigies, perhaps something that can be used to create ritual circles on the floor.

Bed sheets and curtains. Some type of fabric shop or stall, then, would be a good starting point.

⟪ at the rest, she listens along. candles are easy enough to find, and she has already found a place that suits her needs there – she is sure it will delight merrin just as much. effigies (which she suspects must be for burning, for all that is for god need be burned in the end) will be more difficult, perhaps.

at the last bit, though, she nods. ⟫

Chalk would be nice, don't you think? Easy to remove, especially when compared to common paints.

Yes, that would work well. [ she didn't even think of it, how silly. ] We would grind powder, or use blood from creatures we killed for more potency. My sisters and I, that is.

[ she wonders if they would approve of her learning of magic not their own? doubtful, but she cannot let herself be held back by memories of a time now dead. one must adapt to survive. ]

Do you think they would have different colors? I would settle for white, but I hope they will have shades of red.

In my own faith, all is offered to the flames. But if there are no beautiful things to burn, we occasionally must make our own.

⟪ she says it lightly, evidently aiming for something specific, then frowns at a street sign. more often than not, she had used her powers for navigation, or else she'd had a guide of sorts. to make her own way in so simple a manner is new. ⟫

I believe there is a shop just down this street that deals in paints and the like, for those who make their coin in paintings and such. I reckon we might find what you desire there?

It could not hurt to look.

[ the idea of someone making coin in painting is intriguing though. all the odd part-time jobs she has been taking to occupy her time have not been quite so creative. painting for a living sounds peaceful, so long as you are a good artist at least.

...will she have to decide what to do for a living now too? she knows she must, but waves the thought off mentally. the best she can anyway. she will follow in melisandre's steps to the shop. ]

The effigies I mentioned are ones my sisters and I used to craft as well. We did not have the resources to make large ones, but we would make dolls of clay for offerings. [ she smiles, a touch devilish. ] When necessary, we could imprint the dolls with the essence of a person. It was a very difficult ritual however. Only my mother and the elders could master it.

There are similar ways in my world. Burning blood for curses, tying a person to a gemstone to touch their very will.

⟪ the ruby at her throat seems less friendly that way, even if it isn't what she means. ⟫

I wonder what my absence does now. The last man I cast such a spell on must be in a world of trouble.

⟪ pensive, but not too worried. more like than not, he's left the wall already, off to seek jon snow's sister. ⟫

You were raised with your mother?

⟪ she leads the way still, but the question burns too bright to swallow it down now. this was so far from the ways of her own temple, where children were offered or bought, and had no families, not of blood, not of any familial love that did not come from god himself. ⟫

[ a man in trouble? oh no! anyway- ]

Yes. Mother Talzin, our matriarch. [ then, realizing there may be confusion, she seeks to clarify- ] She is not my mother by blood, and neither are my sisters. We are unified by our clan, our family, in these roles. She showed us love and guided us, as a mother should to her daughters.

[ being a nightsisters is a right, a title, earned in proving loyalty to the family above all. such is the way of survival, of belonging, on a planet that shows no mercy. ]

You must forgive me if I pry.

⟪ but she is encountering so interesting a mixture between the deeply familiar and the wholly foreign that she can't seem to help herself. in asshai, she could make use of the archives for such things, or speak to another priestess or priest, but here, here there is only the very source in front of her. ⟫

Do you recall how you joined your congregation?

[ the prying doesn't bother her, though it is... strange for someone to take an interest. most in the galaxy know of the nightsisters, but only in their infamy. those who dig deeper don't often like what they hear. ]

I was born into it. Most of us are. We are Nightsisters, bound in power, and we only know one Mother.

[ she folds her hands together, fingers winding together, then looks to melisandre. ]

What of you? How did you join?

[closed] On Wednesdays we wear red

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