2 - Video, public

[exnihilo]

[Open, Video]

[She got caught by the women's council, near the end. They dragged her off when she claimed to have no family to be returned to, interred her in a tiny church with other troublesome, unmarried young ladies. Most of them had had a child out of wedlock. They did laundry together, work and penance, the heavy lye soap burning their hands hour by hour. Mira could have swaggered out bloody, but she didn't - something about the mumbled prayers and the delicate stained glass windows and the blunt, human directness of it, the brusque cruelty and judgement appealed to her. Their God was hypocritical and describable; the things he required of her were concrete and impersonal. It didn't matter that she was no one, in the cloister - all of them were no one, were discards, and they showed her how to do the work and took her unhesitatingly in. She enjoyed it, in her way, listened to the other women talk about their children, taught one how to break her boyfriend's wrist the next time he came home drunk. And she stayed until the barge caught her up again.

She's in the chapel now, dull and bare by comparison, not gaudy morbid stories or old ash marks on squat brick. She rolls a candle from one hand to the other. She has kept to herself, so far, has made no announcements or introductions, done nothing to draw undue attention since the nature of this place was explained to her. She was content with that state of affairs. But she is curious, now.]

How many of us are religious?


[Spam, for Harvey Two-Face]

[Several days after the fair, Mira shows up at his door, tense and eager. She's put it off - she's nervous, if she's honest, because she doesn't know how to do this, and she can't trust her own memory. She thinks he was crazy, thinks he responded the same way she did, but what if she's wrong? What if smashing his jaw with a billiard ball was too far?

At least she has an excuse to be here. She has presents.]

Comments

[strangehistorian]

Each of the five families - flights - were given their own tasks. The earth and elemental forces - fire, water, wind and so forth - were under the protection and ordering of the Black flight under Neltharion the Earth-Warder. The magic of the world and intangible forces such as gravity were assigned to the Blue flight and Malygos the Spell-Weaver. My flight, the Bronze, was empowered to organize and protect time. Our leader was Nozdormu the Timeless One. That secured, all plant and animal life living on Azeroth was put under the domain of the Red flight under Alexstrasza the Life-Binder, and their thoughts, dreams, and memories were given to the province of Ysera the Dreamer and the Green flight.

[exnihilo]

What does time need protecting from?

[strangehistorian]

Generally, mortals who try to travel in it. Magic makes it easy in theory to go back and kill one's own grandfather, but in practice we disapprove of that. We also organize some patterns of chance for the most favorable outcome, or ensure that events diverge in such ways.

[exnihilo]

Could you. See someone's past? Not change it. Just.

[strangehistorian]

Certainly, but I don't do it without permission.

[exnihilo]

[She's breathing a little too fast, light and shallow, a rabbit in headlights.]

I. Need to think.

[She hangs up.]