Log:The Mien Study - Weaver

The Mien Study - Weaver
More Mirrorskin!
Participants Lux and Weaver Utridge	May 3rd, 2018 Another interview in Library/The Mien Study
Location Wayhouse MT07
Lux is noticeable long before she is visible. Her Wyrd makes the very air pulse with power. Light pools around her feet in an expression of the Wyrd on her personal reality. It moves in waves and gentle currents, then drifts up like mist around her forming patterns in the air about her. Today, fractals upon fractals into infinity are displayed in ever increasing detail within the wispy strands of light that float about her. She is sitting in a high back chair with a clipboard and several pieces of paper. Notes have already been taken on many of them, under the others. A row of tiny clay faces - trifles - sits neatly on a table beside her. A sign sits next to those that says: Mien Study - in neat meticulous handwriting. After hearing about the want for more information Weaver was relatively happy to go looking for the brilliant changeliang conducting said research. Eventually his queries and searches bore fruit as he arrived to the Wayhouse in a blue hoodie, blue jeans, and dark blue tennis shoes. Most of his azure outfit is muddied by the constantly play of shadows over his form only to occasionally coalesce to something strange when looked at from the right angle. He raps on the threshold upon seeing Lux, his mantle flare in a tenebrous display below and behind him as the dragon moves. Lux turns to the new arrival, looking up from her notes. Proud green eyes take in the dragon and a brow raises above her eye. "Good day," She says simply, then gestures to a seat much like her own across from her. "Would you like to participate in my study of Miens and the reasons that cause them? I can provide a triffle for your time." her gloved hands settle back into her lap above the clipboard, watching intently. She seems to already be taking mental notes. Weaver's attentions go to the setting of triffles, and then back to Nuit. Those red holes remain locked in her direction for a few seconds too long, and then he eventually nods. He blinks as he moves to take a seat, saying, "On the condition I'm recored as Jonathan Irons." He lifts a clawed finger as if to reach for one, but then pulls his hand back to set it atop the other in his lap. Lux nods her head. "Perfectly acceptable, Sir Irons." She begins by studying him closely, pen making rapid fire notes across her paper in long, neat handwriting. She narrates them outloud as she goes. "Fairest, Draconic. Possible additional Kith categorizations. Scales, Horns, Claws, Teeth - sharp. Red eyes. Smoke exhaled during breathing. Very traditional appeareance to folklore." As she finishes her notes, she looks back up to him. "Please feel free to ignore any questions you do not wish to answer. What would you classify your Kiths as, if you know? Do you know or understand how you came to be this way from your time in Arcadia? Do you know the name of your Keeper or any of their Titles, and do you know or believe they had any hand in your current form? Are you a memeber of any Entitlement that would affect your mien, and can you describe the changes it has made to me?" The questions are said in a measured tone, though little time is left for answers until she puts her pen to paper and waits. "Ogre," Weaver is quick to correct as he reaches into his pocket for his phone. "Unlike most people like me I can, usually, control my impulses," says the thief. He taps at away as his phone for a few seconds, "You know this guy?" After the question he lifts the phone, revealing a picture of Humphrey Bogart in the actor's younger days, although with pointed ears. His visage shifts again, this time mirroring Lux's for a few seconds. "I can change as needed, although the mask is the easiest to change and shift as needed. I do like my mug, scales and skin, but it helps not to always be me." Back to scales and smoke he turns. "I'm a Skinwalker and Mirrorskin as well. I don't exactly know why I turned out like that, but it's a blessing. I may have done something worse if the wings came back." He taps at his chin and muses, "Or be dead so I wouldn't have to worry about having to do something worse on my own, I guess." Lux nods her head slightly, taking more notes. "I see. Then is this your natural Mien or one of personal construct?" She seems slightly annoyed at that thought, but pushes it aside. "Mirrorskin," she muses for a moment, before making another note. "Do you have any memory of your Keeper or the Realm of Arcadia you were in, and why it formed you this way - Able to shift your miens?" "No, I was like this thanks to the first." Weaver moves a bit to get comfortable. He occasionally looks over as if trying to steal a look at Lux's writing, and clears his throat. "I was taken by The Diva. I never got to see all of its world. I was gonna be something to be killed off for some story, but I guess I pissed her off something fierce. I've been remember a lot more o' that bitch the last year or so." Venom trickled into his words until his last few left a menacing smile on his lips. "I was traded to The Borrower, and his place defied reason. Think of a movie that goes all the fuck over the place. I mean way way over the place from hell to a jungle to some shit like a hole in the ground. That's what it was like. As bad as it was, it wasn't as fucking frightening as The Diva's. We fought and were changed with The Borrower. I got weirder eyes, but I can make it look like they used to for the humans." Weaver moves to sit up straight, gaze briefly looking towards the exit. "What I used to have were wings. Big, massive fuckers, but I had to give those up. I do want them back and can probably mimic them if it came to it, but I couldn't use them. Even if they somehow came back I couldn't use them. But this?" He lifts his clawed handed - first changing it into a flipper, a tentacle-like thing next, and finally a bark-covered mess before settling it back to its usual form. "This came after. It isn't as good as the wings, but it helped me survive my first year or so." Lux nods her head, taking more notes. She finishes them with a swirl of her pen, before looking back up "Do you believe that your ability to shift might be because you were torn between two competing forces of Arcadia in being 'traded' to another Keeper?" That fact doesn't seem to bother her in the least, in fact her tone makes her obviously believe it is commonplace. "You are strong in the Wyrd, do you have any recollection of your growth through power and what changes it might have brought onto your Mien?" "Not that I know of," Weaver notes with a shrug. "It was just something I could do, and didn't think to ask why. I was taken by some asshole that wanted to play out faerie tales, and traded to another that had me fighting more than I ever have or will in my life." He shrugs, betraying his own ignorance. "As I grew in power it became easier and not just with the mask, but the mien too. Really every part of me. But I can't do clothing as much as I've tried to. One thing, though, the waffle house doesn't take kindly to asking for an order when you're butt ass naked." After that bit of sagacious advice he shifts again, shadowy mantle flaring further out in full display of the dragon. He shifts once more into Lux. Even his clothing shifts to match hers, although the mimicry is rather obvious to the other Changeling. The accompanying brilliance only adds to everything as his own pen and pad appear in his hand. The faux Lux taps at her pad with the edge of her pen and mutters, "Interesting. Warm colors. Very interesting. Especially that pink." The fake starts scribbling on the pad, but stops immediately. One Lux looks to the other sporting the wicked grin far too obvious of the dragon. "That old, huh? I figured you for younger, but I always sucked at guessing ages." Those ever present wisps of light around Lux change from their fractal patterns in a light red to a dark deep crimson with jagged edges and lightning crackling around them. She keeps her facial expression calm however, despite what her entitlements mien places about her "A lady never talks about her age." She says in a very calm - almost deathly so - voice, as she gives him flat eyes. "Do your Mirrorskin abilities also give you an insight into my joy of bodice rippers, or my hobby of crochet?" She asks, apparently unconcerned about his intrusion into her secrets, though the mimicry is clearly bothering her. Her hand's clench slightly. "And Pink is a lovely color. Soft and proper." She sniffs slightly, setting her clipboard to the side. "Your participation entitles you to a Clayface trifle if you wish." She says, gesturing to the neat rows of them beside her. That must have made her tired to craft. "Do you have any other comments on your mien, Keeper, or realm you believe might be important to my work?" It all ends in a plume of blackened smoke as the cocksure dragon leans back in his chair. "I never got the age thing. Especially with the likes of us that make it up there. I heard some of em live for ages." That's when he jabs his thumb into his chest. "That's I wanna meet somebody like that, but they're like me. Maybe they even burned down a few villages and stole some treasure too." He barks out a laugh with a slow shake of his head. "The entitlement is why these look like they do," he points out with a motion towards his eyes. "But I didn't like 'em white so it's always red. I met somebody kinda like me that goes through different colors, but that just seems wrong. And I can do crochet on my own. Moms does it, and that shit was way better than that stupid racquetball shit." He then reaches forward for the clayface as he reaches into his pocket. He comes out with an eyepiece held in bound leather, and brings the monocole to his eye as he plucks up one of the trifles with his other hand. He hums momentarely, and then looks up to Lux. He holds his gaze there for a few seconds again just as he did upon entering. "Huh? You're either really unique, or so fucking strange. I can't really-" For the first time since he's gotten here he compeltely shuts up while staring at her. Fair is fair, perhaps. Lux was just studying him like a labrat so perhaps it is only fair that he gets to study her in return. "I am, quite unique. I have never run into another that is like me." Truthfully said, though Fairest Bright Ones are probably a dime a dozen. "But there are always unique circumstances to every situation, are there not?" She asks as she settles her hands together in her lap. "Thank you for your time, Sir Irons. I am not against further conversation if you wish it, but for now my study is complete with you as a subject." Weaver was lost in his own study until he heard that name. He shakes his head to snap back to reality, and leans back in his seat. The clayface is set delicately in his lap while the eyepiece is shoved back into the jacket's pocket. "Weaver. I don't like that Sir and title bullshit. I got a last name, but Weaver's good enough for everybody." He flashes his usual smile, but it's clear he's distracted for a few moments. A nod of her head is given. "Allright, Weaver. Lux is perfectably acceptable, though I am not against Vizier or Madam Shadowcaster." She smirks slightly, the first bit true humor in her expression. "Though I have not heard the last often." She shakes her head. "Is somethign distracting you, Weaver?" she asks finally, settling back in her chair to study him more intently for a moment.