New Years Tradition

[grantuseyes]

Micolash is back in the Nexus again after a long period away, though that part's understandable, given the state he was in that time. He's no longer in a wheelchair nor hooked up to an IV, but his eyes are still bandaged tight behind his cage. He at least looks a little healthier in general and curiously well-dressed today. Clean pinstripe trousers, polished (but still untied) shoes, a fitted waistcoat, a new light blue ribbon tied at his throat, a clean white button-up with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

He has two things of note with him: a table with a lot of writing supplies and a cat. The cat is a handsome, plush creature, mostly white with patches of tabby orange. One such patch on its forehead looks a lot like an eye. Another on its back looks a lot like a skull. Markings are funny like that, huh? Said cat is always close to where Micolash is seated, curling around his ankles, napping under his chair, hopping up onto the table to lazily peruse. Sometimes it even perches on the top of Micolash's cage for an even BETTER vantage.

The table, meanwhile, looks to be loaded up with pencils, strips of paper and gilded envelopes. On the far end, opposite of where the scholar is seated, is a wax sealing kit as well.

"Ahem. Soooo," Micolash starts in that nasal drone of his. "This past weekend marked the celebration of a new year back in Yharnam. And while I am very much not there at this time? I thought it would be. Interesting to still observe at least one tradition we have. Namely, writing down a wish. Or wishes! You have for the coming year and seal them away, only to be read at the start of the next year. To see what did and did not come true. To see how much you've changed from one New Year celebration to the next."

He pauses, almost looking to be lost in thought for a time, staring sightlessly somewhere into the middle distance. Eventually, he adds, "...Do you have any taboos for these sorts of celebrations? Where you are from? Things that you avoid to not have the new year sullied? Or set into an...unfortunate pattern?"

Comments

[grantuseyes]

Henry, ever the brave one, leans out from where he's perched on the corner of the nearby table to try and get a sniff at Faris. Hmm, what's this guy. Doesn't smell like a demon, does he?

Henry also isn't the only one to sniff at the air. Micolash, oddly, seems to make a furtive habit of the same. Perhaps one could attribute it to winter sniffles, how he only does it at irregular intervals, once and sharp every few moments. Usually when he can hear or feel someone approaching. But he's already smiling in recognition before the K'da has even spoken.

"Oh! Beast! Parasite! Oh...bother." Micolash, for once, looks abashed as he stumbles for a name or title for the being, recalling that those are no-gos only after he's said them. "W-Wise words all the same. Very wise. Though would you conflate fate as the same? One can certainly rail against what destiny has in store, should he try hard enough..."

[poetwarrior]

This time, Faris is prepared for the insulting words, and bristles only momentarily at the distasteful terms. Parasite... even beast is better, if still offensive. "Faris," he corrects Micolash calmly, reminding himself that the caged man has only heard his name perhaps once or twice. Sometimes lessons must be repeated several times for cubs to fully grasp them, and it may be no different here. There is clearly something wrong with his thinking; it would be cruel to hold a known disability against him unless such behaviors persist beyond the extent of reason.

"You speak of futures that cannot be changed?" the K'da asks, ensuring that his understanding of the question is correct. "We do not believe that any particular outcome is certain. More likely than another, perhaps. And the closer one comes to the end of a path, the more one must turn to prevent reaching that end."

[grantuseyes]

"Faris!" He repeats it brightly with a smile and his hands coming together in a soft clap in front of him. "Faris, yes. Of course. Oh, but you'd told me before and I'd gone and let it be dashed from my head by the festival disaster. How gauche of me..." He reaches a crooked finger into the largest frontmost hole of his cage to nervously pick at the bandages wrapped around his eyes. But he stops when the cat reaches over and bats at his arm, snatching his hand away quickly and folding both now in his lap.

"Yes, something of that nature. Futures that seem inevitable. Destiny that is. Thrust upon you by merit of circumstance. I firmly believe that, yes, one may fight as hard as they must to break free of such matters. So much of my research breaks down to that alone; grasping and wrenching fate to bend to my design, not the universe's."

[poetwarrior]

Faris' ears flick forward in momentary surprise. So, Micolash does remember being told the K'da's name, it was only forgotten. That, in part, gives him cause for hope that repeating the name will allow it to come more easily to the tongue than the other terms the caged man has seen fit to call him.

The K'da tilts his head, trying to make sense of the man's words. "The fate of yourself, or of others?"

[grantuseyes]

"Of humankind! To set us collectively on the path to higher self! Perhaps first by leading by example, of course. As Vacuous Rom did for us before in the halls of Bergynwerth. Another human who ascended to...far greater. Far grander. To become a beautiful being with thoughts we can barely hope to grasp..."

He sounds dreamy, honestly, recalling this person? Being? Smitten, maybe even.

[poetwarrior]

This is not the first time that Faris has heard him speak of his Vacuous Rom, though it makes just as much sense this time as it had before. "Acting as an example to others is a noble path," he says hesitantly, after a moment. It is true, after all, though what that means to the caged man is something he can only speculate. Or, perhaps, if he asked...? "What do you hope to achieve?"

[grantuseyes]

"To leave behind this dull and wasting world, this profane plane we call the Waking. I tire of the demands a physical body puts upon us, I tire of being tethered to the earth, to reality, left to look up towards the stars and feel. Homesick for them. I wish to ascend, and finally understand the reasons why the planes are as they are. I wish- I need -to shed this husk my spirit is forced to endure."

He got a little passionate during that explanation, sounding almost upset at all these apparent affronts being a human in a physical body forces upon him. He'd had in his hands a slip of paper for writing down wishes at the start. As he continued, he'd begun to twist at it. By the time he's finished, it's been wound cord tight and has rendered the paper all but useless for writing.

[poetwarrior]

Oh dear. That the caged man would make little sense is to be expected; the degree to which he is becoming agitated is not. Faris is not an expert in the written arts, but he is fairly certain that paper must be flat to be useful, not pulled and warped into knots.

He does not know enough about Micolash's strange desires to correctly steer the conversation elsewhere, though that does not mean the K'da will not try anyway. "You believe all humans should desire this?"

[grantuseyes]

"If they knew as I did? Yes. Most do not because they cannot see it. But I can. And I assure you, what lies above us in the stars, what lies beneath us in the sea..." He trails off, however, as if distracted by his own words. Eventually, he reaches into the largest gap in his cage's grate, the one left for his face to peer out from. Aiming to pick a crooked finger at the bandages wound around his eyes.

"...See. Yes, see it. What is a being who cannot-"

His arm is slapped suddenly by the cat, who'd jumped up onto the table in order to do so. Micolash yanks his hand away from his face/cage indeed as if he's been admonished. Who knows, maybe he has.

[poetwarrior]

Faris startles forward at the cat's attack, alarmed for a brief moment. But no, there is no harm, no blood drawn, and the increasingly distressed speech has ceased. If only for the moment.

Perhaps that, then, is a suitable topic of distraction? "This cat is your guide?" he asks, watching the caged man warily, in case he returns to his senseless rambling.

[grantuseyes]

Henry did indeed just slap with claws in, now licking the paw that he did so with. When questions are asked about him, he looks towards Faris with calmly narrowed eyes.

"Oh, yes. This is Henry." Henry blinks once, still staring at Faris. Greetings. "Abysa brought him to me! I've never kept a cat before." Micolash holds out an unsteady hand in the feline's direction, who moves to meet it and boof his big fuzzy cheek against his fingers. "He is here with me while Abysa is...indisposed. At the moment? To watch and to lead. He is very responsible."

[poetwarrior]

Faris likes the company of cats. At least, those he has met thus far. Crookshanks was a beloved friend, and the kneazle's cubs are certain to be also. This Henry is unknown, but surely he will also be worth knowing? The K'da bows his head politely, though he does not approach, watching the cat interact with his human.

He does not know who Abysa is, but the implication is enough to understand that this person is a helper of some kind. "A wise decision. I have known cats to be both helpful and observant of many things."

[grantuseyes]

"Oh very! Exceedingly so! So few animals are born with natural Insight. But cats are among these...exceptional few. Never being allowed to keep one as a boy was a great sorrow to endure. Or any...other pets, for that matter..." So much to be speculated on the whys of that. Faris won't get long to wonder though, as Micolash continues, "And then as the Paleblood Sky approached, all the cats of Yharnam fled. Oh, some were more grim about it. Saying that they'd all been devoured or torn to shreds by beasts. But I know better. I remember very clearly seeing the numbers decline as events progressed."

Henry keeps rubbing his cheeks against Micolash's fingers so long as the man continues to have them held out.