An Abomination

✧░ “Because they are cute!”

“I don’t intend to harm anyone, ‘specially not you. You’re one of the few beings I’ve met who’s actually been nice to me…” Her smile is forced, and hands clench at her side as she turns her gaze back towards Priscilla instead of the crows. A small shiver racks her body, despite her own internal furnace, at the notion that some might speak to her. She’d have to keep that in mind. 

Hands move to rest over her drawer, gaze dropping to the ground. That would make sense, considering her own history. A nod, and the teenager lets out a heavy sigh. “I wouldn’t be surprised, I have an… Interesting history, to say the least.” 

The giggle that leaves her is forced, before she deflates again. Arms move back to rub at her arms, and the teenager looks around for a moment to try and find somewhere to sit. What’s left of her shawl is drawn closer around her shoulders as she moves to try and regain her composure. 

Priscilla watches her shiver, pull her shawl tighter around her shoulders, and realizes something that she hadn’t even considered before- the snowy expanse of the Painted World was not at all uncomfortable for her, but she hadn’t the slightest idea what sort of temperatures that Ava could endure. 

“Art thou cold?” Without waiting for an answer, Priscilla stands, rising to what must be approximately 14 feet in height before she begins to move towards a box that rests at the side of her little tower. She opens the heavy lid with ease, reaching in and retrieving a gigantic piece of colorful fabric.

“It was more a figure of speech, I don’t find it fun at all…” Hands move to clasp behind her back, as the teen kicks at the ground for a moment before her attention returns to the taller being. Brows furrow at the idea of what this lady did, and at the crows themselves. “So… I really shouldn’t worry about them? They’re not goin’ to do anything to me?” 

She could understand the need to have things as watcher, or at least something to keep an eye on someone. Her gaze softens at the idea that this particular lady was family or something like it, to Priscilla. 

“Is she nice? It’s kinda nice that she’d send things to make sure you’re safe, even if she doesn’t always visit… Do they talk?” A sidelong glance is cast towards the crows, as Ava hopes that they don’t respond to her question, or that she at least gets a warning. 

“They will not harm thee.” Priscilla was glad that she was able to reassure this girl of that, at the very least. “They only serve to protect me and the secrets that this world was designed to keep.” Oftentimes, those are one and the same- a cruel coincidence that was not lost on Priscilla, who had had years to ponder such things.

“So long as thou doth not seek to uncover the secrets that are hidden here, no harm will come to thee.” At least, not from the crows. The other residents of the painting could not be spoken for, but Priscilla would not allow Ava to come to harm at their hands. “Velka is kind to those who need it the most. Those carrying sin that they seek atonement for will receive her blessing, so long as they prove the truth of their desire.”

Her interest, morbid as it was, is caught on the term she used. Though the teenager doesn’t want to outright question what it means, judging by the decay comment, Ava at least has a pretty good guess at what hollowed means. “Oh… Sounds, uh, sounds fun.” 

She does flinch at the sight of the crows, having not previously paid any attention to her surroundings, and the teenager crosses her arms over her chest to try and make herself feel better. Nodding, she lets out a hum in response to Priscilla’s explanation. 

“…Kinda like me, though your situation sounds much nicer than mine. ‘M pretty sure I’m slotted to die soon, so.” Another shrug, and the teenager moves a few steps forward to try and get closer to something other than the crows. “What’re those crows even doing? Keeping watch? Scaring me?” 

“Watching one’s friends slowly descend into soulless madness is not what I would consider ‘fun’...” Despite her worry, a sad smile quirked her lips upwards. Perhaps this girl really did belong here.

And besides, now she is getting the chance to speak of Lady Velka, one of her favorite subjects. “The crow demons are servants of Lady Velka- she’s the goddess that presides over sin... both the designation and forgiveness of such.” She pauses, one of her fingers prodding at the snow on the ground absentmindedly. “She visits me on occasion- she’s the closest thing to a family I have.”

The Vengess is quiet for a moment, trying to fully process what the taller being said. While it did sound like something that fit the teenager’s situation way too well, she’s still wary. 

“I, uh, well. Interesting story, I don’t. My home was destroyed.” Shoulders move in a shrug, and her hands move to rest across her chest. If they ended up going into more detail, there would probably be more confusion than was necessary. Instead, she focuses on the idea of this Painted World. 

“Does that mean you have lots of creatures that are, uh, displaced? Is that why I’m here, do you think?“ 

Ah. So that would, understandably, be a difficult thing to talk about. Priscilla decides not to pursue the ‘your home was destroyed’ route in this conversation. Instead, she decides that it’s probably best to describe her own situation to clue Ava in a bit.

“While we do... a large number of them have hollowed. Humans tend to decay, even when suspended by the Painted World...” As well as the dragon... and that ghastly pyromancer. “I’m afraid that at the moment, it is only myself and the crows.” She turns, her eyes laying on a pair of crow demons that perch on one of the nearby battlements.

Just as she’s starting to push herself back up from the ground, a grumble escaping her, the other’s voice makes her freeze in place. While it wasn’t the question she had expected, it was better than anything she could’ve hoped for. 

Once she makes it to her feet and dusts off her dress, the teenager does a small bow before smiling up at the other. “Ava, and uh, sorry for intruding… I was just trying to find safety.” 

Which wasn’t entirely a bluff, though a large part of her draw to the area had been curiosity. It wasn’t entirely known to her how the situation was to pan out, so the Vengess airs on the side of mostly truth. “Sorry if ‘m not supposed to be here, I just… Didn’t want to die.” 

“No, no, it is alright...” Priscilla sets her scythe off to the side, as slowly as she can. She’s clearly trying not to startle Ava as she squats down, one knee on the ground, lowering herself to about six or seven feet in height.

“This place, this Painted World- it is where creatures that do not belong can stay peacefully- it is a haven for those with no home of their own.” Her expression is sad- she looks at Ava the way that many have looked at her... a creature without a home, simply because of her heritage.

{ @fiachsaol } 

Her gaze is held on the other, and Ava takes her time in adventuring closer to them. She’s moving from behind objects, weaving in and out of what she hopes to be the other’s gaze, or lack of. While it wasn’t the first time the Vengess had seen something much taller than her, and most likely more dangerous, this one didn’t give her nearly the same about of anxiety as the rest of them had. 

She’s made her way to within a couple yards, before her own legs trip her up, and the teenager falls. 

Priscilla suspects that there may be a creature nearby, but the clutter about her tower that had built up provided Ava with just enough cover to evade her gaze. Unfortunately, there was nowhere for the girl to go- her choices were either to return to the frozen wastes below or leap into the abyss... and neither of those were very attractive.

The massive woman turns at the sound of Ava falling, but keeps her scythe against her chest, still unwilling to escalate the situation.

She’s about to launch into the speech that she gives all intruders, but stops herself, noticing the girl’s horns and reddish skin... was this, perhaps, another lost soul who sought the shelter of the Painted World?

Priscilla is slightly taken aback at the knight’s apparently lack of interest in her... in any capacity. Of course, that was rare, and not something that she particularly disliked, but it was certainly strange. She holds her scythe to her chest and turns, gesturing towards the outcropping of stone that she had sent many a human plunging off.

“If thee leap from that plank, thou will be returned home.”

Priscilla holds the steaming cup- though it was intended for gods, her size still dwarfed the intended holder, and it is more akin to a shot glass between her fingers. Smelling the beverage, she hums, pleased.

“My, this smells absolutely divine... You know, thou needn’t have done this- I do not feel the cold as strongly as you gods do. I know thee find my existence...”