nexus_crossings | Ceremonial curiosity

Ceremonial curiosity

In the past few years the Nexus has become more of a home for Viatorus than his own world, despite its strange and changeable nature. So then perhaps it is not so odd that he finds himself feeling more comfortable here than there, able to talk to strangers with nary a stutter. Mostly. Though whatever nerves remain they're still a far cry from how he was when he first came here. Now he can sit and think, his head clear and undisturbed by the passers by.

He sits and watches the crowd flow through the streets, shuffling the ring on his ring finger in slow circles. For once he's without a book in hand, not even with a tea nearby. In fact, he looks quite composed for someone so easy to fluster. Perhaps it's the distraction of speculation, for he certainly sounds like he's been mulling over this a while.

"Do you think that ceremonies hold power? Do they influence anything or do you think they're purely symbolic? Are they an expression of hope, or a way of channelling power?"

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Oh! A familiar face! A narrow category to begin with when you're as terminally scatterbrained as Micolash. But doesn't that make it all the better when he does spot someone he knows?

Micolash makes his way across the Plaza, having first heard the question before realizing who was asking it. He waves one hand up high up, over the usual crowds, and calls, "Viatorus! Yoo hoo! Hallo! Hallo, Viatorus, it's me, Micolash!" You know, in case you forgot what the guy with a cage on looked or sounded like. By the time he's reached the other man, he's all smiles and wrings his hands with eagerness.

"Oh, it's been terribly long, hasn't it? I scarcely know where to begin! Oh, perhaps with answering your question? Ceremonies hold all manner and matter of powers. Conducting them with certain materials or...parts, or simply a ritual carried out as sacrament. Communion, baptism, penance, ordination, anointing..." He drones the examples, ticking them off on one finger at a time. "Religious ceremonies in particular are part expression, officiating and imbuement of power.

"It was known that Vacuous Rom held knowledge of all rituals, but kept them to Herself. This engendered a dreadful amount of resentment against Her by both the scientific and religious communities. Though there is...a great deal of overlap of the two in Yharnam. Myself being an example!"

Terribly long indeed. Viatorus has so many questions. Where was he? And what are the scientific applications to religious rituals? Especially in Miscolash's preferred area of dreams and nightmares?

He smiles in that characteristically fluttering way of his, and waves, letting the other scholar answer without interruption. As per usual, his response leaves Viatorus with as many new questions as new information. He almost asks how they could call her 'Vacuous' Rom while also knowing she held knowledge of all rituals, but doesn't for fear of bringing Micolash's thoughts back to crueller times.

"Science and religion overlapping? That's a terribly curious thing," he says instead. More softly he adds, "Have you been well, Micolash?"

"I have been..." He trails off into silence for a socially unacceptable long time, eyes going distant. Lost in thought. But he snaps back eventually and picks back up as if he never stopped to begin with. "...well! Well enough. Doing my very best to stay...occupied."

The first question garners more attention and Micolash tilts his head with a confused smile. "Curious, though? The overlap? Is it truly? All scholars of Mensis were pious. Not simply because our estranged foundation was that of the Healing Church. To study the Great Ones is to study beings as gods. Their tombs and labyrinths were holy ground. Their blood, the sacrament of our communion. I have never found the overlap to be...unnatural? Science is simply another method to understand the divine."

Mysterious and vague as always, Micolash. Viatorus will have to be content with that answer, since he somehow doubts he's going to get a better one. Nor can he really blame Micolash if he would rather brush aside mundane matters such as personal well being. Mostly because he does it often enough himself.

"For us such studies would be considered magical, not scientific," Viatorus explains. "And while religion and magic happily intertwine, science and religion often seem to be at odds. On my world, science often replaces religion. Proof and material matter replaces faith and the intangible."

With a tilt of his head, Viatorus focused on another fascinating little detail. "What was your Healing Church like?"

"But what is arcana if not simply," he twirls both hands airly as if trying to stir up the correct word, "another form of energy? The raw light of stars, the properties of ritual components, the vastness of the sea, source of all greatness and all things that be. It is all tangible, it is all arcane. It is all tied to those who reside above us and to whom we can only pray. Though perhaps I am...deeper fixated on the intangible aspects of things. Which is where faith is required, as is all things we cannot see but hope to find. To imagine society where science and religion are completely divorced? Ah! What a curiosity in turn!"

Moving onto the subject of the Healing Church, Micolash's expression sours and he scoffs. Crosses his arms, as well as casually doing the same with one leg to rest the toe of his (untied, of course) shoe on the other side of the other foot. "Blind. Critically, unfailingly...blind." With Micolash's fixation on eyes and sight, this could very well be a grave insult by his standards. "First Vicar Laurence, may he burn, appointed me as the headmaster of Mensis and highest authority of Yahar'gul, the Unseen Village. But he was a man who was so sure he had all the answers. That my college and my works would bolster their power instead. Blood-drunk fool that he was, always so convinced in his way. His Church and his Choir wallowing in the Old Blood, in the belief it was the surest path to mankind's deliverance."

He barks a laugh and then snaps back into standing less casually, one finger pointed upwards and his feet moving to plant themselves both flat on the ground again. "He deviated and perverted everything Master Willem stood for! He let that...that...dullard cavort however he pleased back in our hallowed college. And what was Laurence's repayment to a great man? What, what indeed? To abandon him. To spit in his face and forget the one lesson Master Willem knew must remain close to heart! Villain. Cad."

Message received: someone doesn't like Laurence.

While Viatorus can nod along with Micolash's thoughts on science and religion, the older scholar loses him on his rant. The Durant is left staring in bewilderment at his friend's seething hatred. Having never seen Micolash express such distaste for a person before, it takes Viatorus a minute to process this new experience. Luckily Micolash is in no position to notice.

It would certainly be easy to point out that Micolash's own devotion is equally fanatical, equally as focused. That, Viatorus thinks, isn't the point. There is an underlying sense of betrayal, or… disappointment, he thinks, in what Micolash says. When the man in question, this First Vicar Laurence, gave him his position it was a marker of belief and show of support in Micolash's abilities. For him to dismiss it and for Micolash to learn that it was in fact actually meant as a rung in Laurence's ladder… That must have hurt. Even more so when Laurence twisted the teachings of their Master Willem. Viatorus may not understand all the terms and the details, but he can understand the sentiment.

"I'm sorry," he says finally. More quietly he continues, "Can I ask what he thought the answers were? And how he thought your college would serve him?"

Viatorus is such a champ at navigating mercurial, eccentric people and their wild moods and responses. Micolash would have complimented him for being such a marvelous listener if he was in a state to notice. But he's very wrapped up in this fuming at the First Vicar.

He mellows out some when the next question comes, maybe because the ire is spread a little thinner to the whole situation, rather than the one man. "Ah, he believed the Old Blood to be the path for man's enlightenment. Its properties are miraculous, and vital, to our works and our way of life." A pause. "...Was? Ah, moving on, moving on. His conclusion that, were mankind to imbibe enough, it would give way to transcendence."

Micolash jabs a fingertip into the other hand's palm to punctuate his words as he continues, speaking passionately on a subject that, like many others in the worlds of both academia and faith, have very sharp divides in opinion. "It's poppycock! The Blood only transforms the body, at the expense of the mind! The Blood gave way to the beast plague because of his arrogance! And one cannot, cannot, argue that he didn't know, or responded late to the crisis. For the fact of the matter is our beloved provost, Master Willem, warned him. Told him to always remain cautious, mindful. For is it not his adage that says right there," his voice evens out some as he recites what is apparently something indeed profound to him, "We are born of the Blood. Made men by the Blood. Undone by the Blood."

The last four words are said intensely, with meaningful emphasis and crystalline clarity. "Fear. The Old Blood."

Then Micolash snorts. "His clergy, oh, they would recite it in their prayers and etch it into their icons, embroider it into their stoles. But the words were empty. Devoid of their weight, for Laurence did not believe Master Willem's warning was warranted. That he knew best the powers and risks of the Blood." He laughs, dry and humourless, looking aside and rolling his eyes. A moment passes as he stews on the apparent foolishness of this Vicar before he recalls there was more answers waiting.

He exhales slowly through his nose as continues in a much calmer voice. "Mensis was founded to be...let us say, the public research branch of the Healing Church. A new place of learning now that our prior college, Bergynwerth, was forbidden ground. Abandoned. Where we would study not only the Old Blood, but the Great Ones, Insight, kin, the stars, the moon, the sea. The Dreaming. The Nightmare. We were men and women of renaissance, varied and broad in our focus. Our partnership was...fruitful for a time. A reliable supply of materials, test subjects, specimens, artefacts. But the increasing arrogance and blatant disrespect for our origins...Ah, there was already a. Rivalry of sorts between us. But their ways hastened it into blacker things over time."

How much there is to learn from everything Micolash says. Even if not all of it is applicable to his own world, or his own work, Viatorus finds it enlightening all the same. To learn of a whole other world and its peculiarities can only be inspiring. He could listen to Micolash talk all day.

Fear the Old Blood. With his eyes fixed on Micolash, Viatorus can't help but shudder with the shiver that runs down his spine. Whether its importance is warranted or not, Micolash certainly conveys it convincingly.

So by the time Micolash is finished, when Viatorus speaks he only manages a whisper. "What is the Old Blood? What does it do? Where does it come from?"

"It's...everything. We found it, deep underground in the labyrinths under the city. The Blood, Their Blood. Great Ones. Injected into the veins of man, it certainly unlocks potential. For power, for healing. It can mend so much. Cure diseases, ease suffering, treat gaping, grievous wounds. But too much, and you will lose yourself in it. You will...instead focus on your potential in the Waking, not the Dream. Your body will mutate, grow, become...bestial. And your brain will rot and wither. You will become nothing more than a mindless animal. Laurence proved it himself, the fool." Another snort, then a wave of his hand as if to waft away all of this talk of the maligned Vicar.

"It somewhat returns to your original question, really. The Old Blood was sanctified and tested with chalices also found in the labyrinths. Holy vessels that, when used with certain rituals, would unlock even more hidden tombs. Some in lands far off, or long forgotten. Ailing Loran in particular is where Mensis staked our claim below. A city undone by curses and sand."

Only now does Micolash seem to realize how long he's been talking. "Oh, I seem to have gotten all drawn up in the explanations. On and on and on. Forgive me. Why have you asked this question, incidentally? Having doubts? Facing a ritual of your own?" Maybe he can help!

When every word that comes out of Micolash's mouth adds to Viatorus' curiosity, it's easy for the young scholar to lose track of how much time he's spent listening to him. If Micolash had a week long lecture without any kind of pause, Viatorus would undoubtedly attend and find himself trapped, unable to tear himself away for even a second.

It's no shock then that he has more questions. How did they know the Old Blood was from the Great Ones? How did it get underground? What is Ailing Loran like? But before Micolash can offer him the opportunity to find out, he has some questions of his own. Questions with answers Viatorus realises are frustratingly dull in comparison.

He could fluster through a lie, or a deflection, but Micolash has been so open with his own answers. Besides, of everyone, Micolash seems the least likely to take things the wrong way. He has a better grasp of what's important, and what's harmless speculation.

"I… I got married recently, and… and it got me thinking. About non-magical ceremonies. About the power they hold, magical or not. How they compare to magical ceremonies. Things like that. That's all." Explanation finished, he clears his throat and flattens out his tie.

Micolash's eyes go big. Then, if able, he reaches to snatch one of Viatorus' hands in both of his. His fingers, as always, are cold.

"You've been married? Viatorus, that's...wonderful!" His eyes are practically glittering at this point with delight and awe. "Betrothal is always a marvelous event, and the ritual equally so! Who is the lucky lady?" Or lad? That's not entirely kosher back in Yharnam, but also: who cares. The only reason he doesn't add that on is for concern of causing offense. "Were there rings? Where did you get them from? May I see it?"

And here Viatorus was worried about sounding or seeming boring in comparison. Micolash is on pins and needles with this announcement!

It's not difficult to grab Viatorus' right hand. Especially when he's lost in surprise at Micolash's enthusiasm. This isn't about dreams or gods or studies at all, and yet… He's a little embarrassed he assumed Micolash thought so little of other aspects of life.

"Her name is Ingirun Ny- Well. Ingirun Durant now." He has to wonder if that's as odd for her to say as it is for him. "Everyone calls her Runa, though. She does some work with runes, too. Different runes to yours. Norse runes."

At the question of rings he offers his left hand. His ring is a band of gold with a branchlike design. "We had each other's rings made. I think… I think it's a good way to have a piece of each other. Hers is, well, more like a Durant ring. Diamonds around an opal."

"Runa!" Micolash chirps the name in echo, trying to commit it to memory. As this is a name that he would care to recall later, he repeats it a few times as he grasps the left hand instead of the right now, so he can examine the ring. "Runa, Runa, Runa..." he murmurs thoughtfully and fondly.

"Did you know the Yharnam marriage tradition was gleaned and originated from one held by the Pthumerians? A great and ancient race?" He talks as he continues to eye the ring, using his thumb to turn it slightly so he can see how it glints in the light. "A ritual where a woman of great importance was betrothed to a god to carry His child. The tradition of the ring especially was borrowed from their practices. Lovely, lovely."

Though that may explain why Micolash is excitable about marriage in general, at least his enthusiasm remains genuine. He gives the younger man a broad smile. "Congratulations. I do hope you will remain together for many a year to come."

The unexpected excitement does make Viatorus' smile come more easily. Seeing his friend so approving of it all taps on a small well of pride he doesn't feel all that often. It is an accomplishment to have found a wife as lovely as Runa, but he doesn't often realise that.

"I didn't, no." His own family has traditions surrounding wedding rings, too. They're... not quite so pleasant, however, so he lets them remain unspoken.

"Thank you," he says honestly and mirrors Micolash's smile. "Did... Did you ever think of getting married?"

Micolash's expression drops just briefly in surprise at the question. And then he looks away, smiling once more and embarrassed. Resting a palm against the side of his cage like you would your cheek when you're feeling abashed. "Oh my. My career and my research never made it viable, but. You did ask if I ever thought about it."

His expression grows dreamy as he lapses into thoughtful silence. Imagining something, perhaps, while simultaneously looking back.

"Maybe when I was younger, I thought someday, I would- aheh! Ahh, how silly, to recall the daydreams about it! But sometimes, I would imagine what it would be like, to secure a ring from the labyrinth's tombs, with all the right blessings and bloodstones. And if I had such a ring, what would occur had I presented it to Rom one full-mooned night..."

Micolash trails off again, going a little pink in the face as he clearly once more dwells on whatever this imaginary proposal entailed. Then he laughs again, embarrassed and shaking his head while resting both hands on either side of his cage now. "Ohh, how embarrassing! To admit something like that! How inappropriate!"

It's always nice to see Micolash excited, but the fact that it's about something so whimsical and romantic makes Viatorus smile all the more. Even if that romance does involve delving into tombs, stealing from the dead and offering the ring to… Didn't Micolash say Rom wasn't human?

Viatorus isn't as good at being unfazed as his sister, but he can hold a smile, and by Hera he'll hold this smile as well as he can. It's an innocent daydream. It wouldn't do to ruin it.

"It…" Sounds lovely? Viatorus knows he's not that good at lying. Instead he says, "It's not embarrassing. It's brave and lovely to talk about your dreams. Rom probably would have liked it, too. But… maybe you'll find someone else to marry. The Nexus is full of possibilities."

Thankfully, Micolash continues to have the social unawareness necessary for Viatorus' strained smile to happen without notice. Instead, he keeps acting like a giddy teen being asked about his crush. His weird, non-human crush.

"Oh no no no, I'm much too old to think about marriage now, aren't I? And at the very least, it was far from uncommon for the members of Mensis to be unwed. We were all too collectively involved with our studies to give it any thought. And besides, Rom is-"

His smile falters and his embarrassed swaying and posture comes to a slow stop. He makes a soft, uncertain laugh as he continues, "She is still existent. In some form or another. Perhaps adrift in the Dream without Her body. Or reforming, or sleeping, in the labyrinth of Lower Pthumeru." He laughs again, the sound a little self-depreciating. "I daren't imagine what She would think, were She to see me again! Not after the Mensis Ritual."

"Of course you're not. You must be about the same age as my uncle, or younger, and he's still going to be married and have children. Besides, you're never too old to fall in love and marry." It's Viatorus' turn to have a dreamy smile on his face. As much as he adores his work, it's impossible to dissuade the romantic in him. Even if it does involve being in love with an eldritch spider goddess.

The change in demeanour is understandable. It must be hard, remembering just how far from Rom he is. Still, it's a little strange to hear him bring up the Mensis Ritual. "Why…? Don't you think she would have approved?"

"Falling in love..." Micolash echoes it quietly to himself, as if tasting the words carefully and with a little wonder and confusion. What a funny thought, that. Abysa is always insisting the power of love is something powerful and unshakeable, but Micolash simply can't wrap his brain around it. It's such a frivolous emotion that taints ambition at best. A distraction. Brain chemicals to facilitate reproduction. A silly human want.

But Micolash miraculously doesn't say any of this out loud for once. Perhaps even someone as dotty as him can still understand how strange or impolite it would be after congratulating someone on their marriage. Though marriage doesn't always equal love, does it? Couldn't you just do it for the sake of the ceremony? Like a contract. That makes sense to him. It is a show of devotion.

He's let himself get lost in his thoughts again, eyes going unfocused as he follows this mental thread. But the scholar comes back to reality eventually when the question is asked of him. "Ah? Beg your pardon, what did you-?" Oh, wait, Viatorus' words have meaning now that he's had a few seconds to catch up. Shift gears to answering them before the enormity of said answer makes him pause again. "...I. Oh, it's. It is trite, I know, but. It is. Complicated. It would require explaining functions of the Ritual itself. Rom Herself. The nature of the Unseen Village. Oh, I doubt not your ability to follow along!" Considering how many hitches Micolash has had conversationally in just the past five minutes, that's actually high praise if you think about it. That and how convoluted everything to do with Yharnam always seems to be.

"It would just be...terribly involved. That's all."

Micolash looks just slightly furtive as he concludes so; he DID say it was complicated. It might just be more than mere technical complications.

Micolash becoming lost in his thoughts is no new thing to Viatorus, but this does strike him as strange. It's almost as if he's confused by the idea of love, or of experiencing love. Now, Viatorus hasn't experienced much in the way of romance himself, but he isn't confused by love. How could anyone be confused by love when they have dreams? How could Micolash, knowing dreams as he does, not hope for love, or admire it from afar? How could he adore dreams and not love?

"I don't mind listening to a long story." The words are out of his mouth before he stops to consider them. It's only then, of course, that the sight of Micolash sinks in. The hesitation. The reluctance. He clears his throat and adds, "O-Or you could visit some day soon and tell me. It would be better to hear a long story over a cup of tea."

Micolash looks relieved to be off the hook, even making a small 'phew' sound and resting a hand on his chest. Don't be so OBVIOUS with your body language, Micolash.

"That would be splendid, actually! And, ah. I. Aheh." He toys with his fingers, looking uncertain and embarrassed about bringing up the next point. "I hate to sound overbearing or that I'm avaricious, and my memory is sometimes spotty." Sometimes, he says. "But was there mention once, about perhaps...securing a place of study for myself? Perhaps I imagined it!" he hurries to add. "If you do not...ah, recall the same? It's hardly a bother one way or another, I just thought, wouldn't that be a lovely place to have a prolonged chat...?"

Obvious does make it easier for Viatorus to navigate the terror that is social interaction. Although he's a little put off by the thought of Micolash being so very desperate to avoid the topic. Nevertheless, it's better not to have offended his friend.

The reminder of plans made in the past makes the young scholar jump and flush with embarrassment.

"Oh! Yes, yes that's still the plan, if you're willing." And if he can wrangle Isidor into actually cooperating with him. He squirms on the spot, rubbing his knuckles. "There was just a lot of distraction. With the wedding, and contracts, and now Isidor's engagement. But I'll have a contract sent to you right away. If you need anything to help you move, tell me and I'll have something arranged."

Because if the older man tries dealing with Isidor directly surely nothing will be done.

"I am terribly willing! Another friend," he pauses to quirk a smile at the corner of one mouth, as if that's funny to say. Another friend! He has more than one! "They had suggested I find a spot that is. Just mine. Someplace I can be if I would wish to...step outside of Kin Abysa's watch for a time. Not too long! But just. Sometimes."

He doesn't want to sound like he's desperate to get away from his keeper, lest that be alarming! But he's a grown man, isn't he? Shouldn't he have a right to a spot that's his own? Maybe if he can prove he'll remember to feed himself and bathe.

Micolash looks cautiously and furtively excited at the prospect, however! Imagine! His own STUDY again! A flat that's his own! When was the last time he even had a flat? HAD he ever? The past get hazy sometimes. Already, his mind is starting to fill rapidly with the idea of THINGS he can put in such a place. Charts, maps, books, shelves FOR the books, globes, specimen jars, more shelves for those too...

He suddenly recalls he should express his gratitude, so the scholar pulls himself from his daydreams and stiffly thrusts out one hand for another shake. When taken, he'll clasp the second hand over Viatorus' as well and shake quite energetically. "Thank you, Viatorus. Thank you ever so much. You've no idea what this means to me!"

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Ceremonial curiosity

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