Coming 'Home'

[Tolleson]

It had been nearly six months since she’d gone to Thessilane. Even though there she had family, familiar faces and places all around; it was Myrken she’d become homesick for. The ground, the air, the very feel of the place rushed in with deep breaths that filled her as she stood outside. Paused here a moment in the crisp and cooling Autumn air as the sun changed the sky from blue to orange and red; she stood nostalgic and content, happy to be home.

James and Lamai had gone on their way and surely he would look after her. There were few, even of those who had seen her every day during the time she ‘slept’ that trusted Lamai’s speedy recovery. For Genny though, there were other pressing matters. She had a key if the door had been locked or if the majority of those in the office had gone home. One way or another she’d make her way inside and straight to the Governor’s office.

Having stumbled on a step and twice in the hall, Genny had righted herself and now stood at the Governor’s door quite unlike the woman he’d seen before. It was obviously Genny; her same string bean body with a bruise or two on the arm, pale and freckled skin, red hair. But the locks had grown out and sat in loose, soft curls upon her exposed collar bone. The deep blue dress she wore was tailored to her figure and height; swooping from one shoulder to another with a line of golden buttons holding it just so. It was nothing at all like the store bought dresses that never fell below her ankle or patched articles she had worn before, this was embroidered and feminine and entirely Thessilane in fashion. A vision of a woman, Genny rapped at the door open or not, to announce herself and beg entry.

Perhaps it bespoke her sense of duty, determination, devotion, homesickness, or just plain need and drive to be constantly busy. Regardless of why, Glenn Burnie was the first person she sought.

[Glenn]

"Genevieve." A smile as the door was opened. A smile as he allowed her in. "You've been far too long away. In fact, you really... you don't even have a desk in the Inquis..." A matter for later, one that he waved away with his hand. "I've been dealing with people with good intentions and poor sense, with dubious intentions and middling sense, and with terrible intentions and no sense at all, Genevieve. You're welcome back." He had such harsh words for in the past, but she had returned those with more determination and very little, far too little, oversight. Perhaps it was time to fix all that.

"Sit down," hopefully there'd be no unnecessary signs of affection, though he would see her to that chair on the opposite side of his desk like a gentleman escorting a lady. It was the uncomfortable one, but there was little to be done about that. "I want you to know that your package was recovered with little incident and has been moved to another conveniently safe place hidden amongst its kind. We will speak of it later, I think?"

Then a smile as he sat down himself. "You'll tell me, with brevity considering I imagine you're tired, what has happened. First and foremost, however, I have to admit some confusion about your trip. Past certain affections you share with her guard, I hadn't realized you and Lamai were particularly close." There was a nod to her clothes. "She is a Baroness, of course, and they are officially hardly our friends at all. A potential tryst with a guard is easy to overlook if it brings you happiness but I do hope this is the end of being dressed like them? By them? For them? I'd very much like to bring you further into the circle moving forward, Genevieve. With that in mind, just why did you go again?"

[Tolleson]

“Gl- … Mister Burnie,” the smile is reciprocated, wide and genuine, without concern for how little emotion the Governor wanted. Still she is respectful, civil enough not to hug him outright like she might Catch or Dulcie, but full of affection none-the-less. Even Giuseppe during his coma-like recovery had garnished more outward affection, though he may never know it. Which brought her to another concern, but one to be saved for later.

Without dispute, she would sit in the uncomfortable chair, knowing full well it had its purposes. All the while the meager travel bag clutched in both hands was, as gingerly as possible, set upon the floor. Yet still it offered an audible, ‘thump.’

His comments about the people he’s been dealing with is ignored for the moment, perhaps choosing only to hear that he was glad to have her back or simply because, well, wasn’t this always the case in Myrken?

“Indeed,” she nodded curtly. Sweet and happy, yet here despite these things her demeanor was somehow all business, dominating that uncomfortable chair. Mastering the harsh angle of the back, the terribly unyielding surface – she sat straight, taller than most others that might have sat her before her; poised for his inevitable interrogation with enthusiasm. It wasn’t just a case of knowing the circumstances, calculating his questions, or even looking at her actions from his perspective. It was knowing, at least in expectations, the man she worked for. He was not an enigma in this respect. Sure, he had his secrets, the gray area of action so long as it yield a brighter result. In this they were surely of a similar mindset.

“I trust you read it and… And yes, I fully understand your concern,” his condemning tone affects her only slightly, as she looked away a moment, down. “You don’t like it?” Its almost a joke, except it isn’t. Her slender hands smooth the skirts with a hint of sadness, how proud she’d been and, well, pretty she’d felt. Lamai dressing her had been more daunting than crawling through the depths of the collapsing library in Myrken.

It is only a second before a more serious look overtakes and her eyes return to Glenn. “The Lady Lamai is a good friend, but in earnest it was my brother’s request that lead me to go, to.. to follow her… However, I connot deny access to the palace library was not appealing.” Nearly rambling she seemed here to refer to the book left in his charge and some of the contents that required additional material to be fully deciphered. “Though I am also quite certain if I had not been there Catch may have given good cause for an … incident,” did Glenn even know that Catch had gone to Thessilane some weeks prior?

[Glenn]

"Call me Glenn, Genevieve." Did anyone else call her that? Her brother? Her parents? Anyone. She signed her letters that, but perhaps by renaming her so, he claimed her, or an aspect of her, or meant to create one. Or perhaps he was just being formal or eccentric. It was always hard to tell with him.

Ah, the object in question. "I read it." Simply put. "I'm honestly more curious about the story behind it than the story within it, at least as it pertains to more pressing discussions between you and I. We can speak of theory and history and whatever else later. In fact," here, a smile, but just a little one. "despite your care and perseverance when it comes to it, I'm afraid that even the story behind it ought to wait. It rather pales in immediacy to the story of your last few weeks." Finally, a little pause, something provided more out of affection than anything else. "unless you feel strongly otherwise. No?"

Well, in that case. "Libraries are well and good. I am pleased with your growth over the last two years Genevieve, do not think otherwise, even if it may have been more of an outer one than an inner one and certainly though I'd rather you be closer to home. So then," He raised hand to link his previous line with the next, "libraries are well and good, and preventing disaster is even more so, but that does not remove my concerns. It barely even hampers them. What is your brother's stake in all of this?"

[Tolleson]

No one else called her that, she had even made a point to introduce herself as ‘Genny,’ to those she met. It didn’t seem to bother her now perhaps she even enjoyed it or allowed it because Glenn had been the one to say it, perhaps it was because she knew that he knew so much about everyone, or even that it didn’t matter at all. There was no effort made to correct, acknowledge or dispute, just a small pull at the corner of her mouth, a small smile for the honor.

“My brother Bradford or…” there was no ‘brother’ title for the one here in Myrken, not with all the animosity she felt towards the book thief himself, “Tennant?” There was an almost laughing smile, but she knew better. This was serious after all.

In proper Glenn Burnie style she continued as if it had been rhetorical, he wanted both answers so it mattered little what order they were in. And so with hardly a gasp for air she continued, “Tennant has been here, how or why depends on if you believe the acid from his mouth.” There is a sour look before she takes a deep breath on. “As you may recall several years prior…” perhaps not, after all he was still just a pessimistic mapmaker then.

“My father … he… he passed and for some time he had been a.. consulting Doctor, one of several to the Duke. When Bradford graduated he was appointed similarly, ” that was succinct enough. But as much may have been in her file, which strangely enough she’d never made an attempt to read – perhaps she didn’t even have access.

“I digress, his role in the matter is that he oversaw Lamai directly – I cannot say for sure it was his efforts that woke her, but surely they kept her alive these months.” There is some sentiment in her voice, the whole matter had been strange and there is a small pause as she shifts slightly, as if trying to find the words. “He was the first person she… fixed?” Was that at all the right way to say it, shaking her head as if to dismiss the notion she would look to Glenn with an inquiring curiosity – as if he knew better what she meant. “She woke with… impossible energy and has been… passing it to others, healing them. And she is here now.” Just now as it happened.

[Glenn]

Bits and pieces filled in. She was smug, enjoying this, playing a game beyond her ken, but that was fine. It would motivate her, and for good reason. If she felt like she had a stake in all of this, if she felt like she had a hand in creating the Myrken to come, then she would be true to it. He was fine with that. It was what he wanted. All of the inquisitory had a hand in what was to come, and he did so want Genny to belong.

"It is.." Burnie's voice went just a little droll. "a joy to all of us that Lamai recovered, of course, and spouting healing energy, well, that's always useful. Your brother must be quite skilled. Bradford, that is. Tennant, on the other hand, is very skilled at cleaning rooms full of horrible ichor and goo." Professional term, that.

Still, one question remained and he looked to her plainly. She was enjoying herself to the point of impeding the conversation's flow. "Why did your brother want you there to see Lamai?"

[Tolleson]

To the praise of her brothers there is little reply.

There was no game here, she played at nothing. “Bradford said the Lady made mention my name, he request I come ...” Her tone mirrored Glenn’s plain request. It was simple. “Her diagnosis was … grim.” There is a long pause and a deep introspective breath as she considers the connotations of his questions.

What more was there than that, perhaps she was not like Burnie in this respect. She didn’t hunt for some other reason, some greater cause in life and death. Lamai was a friend, regardless from where she came or whom she represented in title, action or otherwise. She had been there for Genny and Genny would be there for her, what little good it may have done.

The jovial nature of her demeanor slipped, the smile she’d had to call Glenn so plainly by his first name fell to a thin line accented by a furrowed brow. Where once she might have shied away from the confrontation she now stood her ground, leaning back only slightly as she looked at Glenn almost in disbelief, but primarily in frankness.

“You propose I have betrayed you?” You, not ‘the side’ or their position in this never ending feud, not Myrken itself; but you, Glenn Burnie.

[Glenn]

"I suppose.." he said finally. "Lamai has very few friends left." He had good reason to be suspicious of the mindwitch. She claimed things, or new them, like no one else. Also, she was stubborn and difficult and had the annoying habit of calling him a patient. "I could see how she might value one who would see her as such. And how you in particular would come to mind as your brother tended to her."

Then there was a dropping of her bouncy enthusiasm, and to that, Burnie couldn't help but smiling slightly. "Genevieve. You wouldn't be here if I thought you betrayed me. That's hardly the issue. The issue is this: I purchased back Agnieszka's soul from Kostroma. Her soul. Figuratively and literally. I saved a friend. The cost was a formal, open statement against Burel, against Thessilane. It was something I did for a friend, for a daughter of this land, for someone who was loyal. It's the sort of thing i'd do for you, Genevieve." He shook his head. "It is not about what I think. It is what is thought by everyone else."

Loyalty was one thing. Common sense was another. "I want you closer to what's going on moving forward, not farther away, but eventually, that means you might need to really choose." A wave of his hand. What more could he say about this. "Please continue your story?"

[Tolleson]

If it was Glenn’s intention to play to her, to gain a more firm grasp on the reigns of loyalty he already possessed, he certainly succeeded. Genny looked down with a measure of guilt, her red curls dusting over her shoulder, lips pursed as she considered what he said. It was generous, outright kindness he offered and on her behalf.

“You’re absolutely right… it was… naïve of me not to consider the implication. I… it matters a great deal to me what you think.” For a moment she struggled, perhaps with the words or could it have been considering the gravity of commitment she now made in response.

“I would gladly do the same for you… I… I want what you want here” not that her power would ever be such that she’d be in a position to bargain on his behalf but she did share a similar vision for Myrken. And she had been and would continue to help him achieve it. As for choosing sides, she said nothing, she’d made her choice; just as well they continue on.

“I’m not sure… what all there is to tell. Catch came, tossed some locals about,” she failed to mention, herself included. “…I have been practicing that…that thing Zilliah does,” it was an off handed comment, of little importance really. She even shrugged and looked to Burnie for any specific inquiry.

[Glenn]

Play her? Glenn would only do that if he absolutely needed to. No, this was honest, earnest. He only wanted what was best for her, best for Myrken. And if the two things were not the same? Well, she would be the one to change. It was a matter of scale and priority, and it was his job to make sure that when she bent to Myrken's needs, she was better off for it. otherwise, what was the point?

And.. wait something jumped out there. "What Zilliah does." Deadpan. There were so many things he could possibly say. "I think fairy wings would go quite well with that dress, Genevieve."

[Tolleson]

Glenn was earnest, in this she had little doubt. However, experience and observation informed her caution; it said Glenn is quick, he is cunning, he does what is necessary. These were the same things that gave good cause to be so unbridled in honesty, so forthcoming with information, and even just a bit nervous whenever they spoke. The way he wove his words, sometimes it was simply hard to tell. And there were so many words.

But absolutely, she would be the one to change, and with so willing a party, manipulation was hardly necessary. Why, all he needed was to ask. So long as Glenn's vision for Myrken aligned with what it truly needed, Genny would be there for him.

To his reply concerning wings her cheeks flushed red, realizing perhaps a moment too late that she hadn't thought through her words. And to him of all people, she ought to have put effort into crafting them wisely! Though it would be a testament to her upright and singular mindset. Snickering and visibly more relaxed she shook her head, "wouldn't that be a sight?"

"I simply... I haven't," again she shook her head, the red curls brushing her cheeks, bobbing as she stood and stepped as close as she could to the desk. Somehow that barrier seemed important, imagined or real, there was a boundary and Genny stayed firmly across from him, even as she leaned closer. Her right arm propping her up and her left unfurling, "... well I'll not sure what to call it," it certainly wasn't natural to her, else she wouldn't mention it here and now.

Fingers, like her arms, were long and slender; and she reached across to him, out to him. Only hesitating a foot or so away. Ever respectful. It was almost a retreat for how still she now stood, waiting that he might tell her, 'no' or let her near, perhaps she considered all of the possible outcomes and could not determine if the pros outweighed the cons. "May I show you?" Not an ounce of her threatened, her eyes resting on him, in his eyes and implored him to take a chance with her.

[Glenn]

"Genny." Serious, quiet, with a wane, wane smile upon his face. There wasn't that much of an age difference between them, and while he was rarely outright handsome, he was well-dressed and that helped, and was athletic and was boyish in his looks, somehow, and well, this smile was for her, even if it was underscored with darkness. "My mind is not a very nice place to visit. If that's what you mean." That could indicate a number of things, but first and foremost was probably a suggestion she find someone who hadn't been tortured in Underdark as an example for her newfound skills. "Unless it's not mentalism that you're speaking of?"

Then he would continue on before she could respond. "If so, that's impressive. I've managed a few skills of my own, more to do with dreams, and those were only after a year of student and the most ardent needs. I'd be curious just how you managed to stumble upon these new skills, and what exactly your impetus was, regardless of what exactly the skills are. Power has a cost, after all."

[Tolleson]

There truly wasn’t much of an age difference between the two. Still, Genny was nothing. While she possessed no serious deformities there was little about her that one could call remarkable. Well-dressed for once, but on an equally athletic, stretched-out frame, with curves so subtle that dressed in trousers she warranted a second glance. She is pretty at best, her green eyes,the more notable feature, looking to him with hope that he might recognize something special. That is until he smiles just so.

Perhaps it is that homely self-image that urged her to impress him, regardless it was certainly the reason she recoils, pulling her hand back towards her chest, abandoning whatever plan there had been. Her fingers curled into a loose fist as she nodded defensively and stood once again.

“No, I’m… its different… I doubt I could see into your thoughts, if even I wished,” which frankly, she didn’t. She wanted to know what he thought, but not first hand. Not to traverse the unfamiliar terrain of another’s mind. It had been as much with Catch and though the case was extreme, she had been trapped for days in the real world and months upon endless months in the labyrinth of an unfamiliar, madman’s mind. Plus, Glenn had words.

“Catch I think,” he was a catalyst for many things after all, “Perhaps Zilliah too...” Abandoning the desk and the chair she turned to face the wall, as if she couldn’t even look at him anymore. Or perhaps it was just a random direction chosen as she began a flustered and frustrated pace, “I’m not sure… its strange.” Was it any surprise? If she hadn’t bargained for some power outright then likely it was simply an unrefined ability. In which case, how could she know what it was, what it might do, or how it could best serve a purpose? It was unlike making herbal remedies or baking pies, there weren’t instructions written for her.

[Glenn]

"Some company you keep." A little smile there, but really, there were endlessly better people to associate one's self with than Zilliah. In fact, well, they'd get to that in a moment. "Two things. Again, I want to know what sort of repercussions we'll have to deal with when it comes to what happened in Thessilane. Past, of course, the Baroness gracing us with her judgmental, scolding looks and haughty, resigned tsks." If she called him her patient once more, he'd consider boiling her in oil. That was far more frustrating than the soulless jibe.

"Second, I know better than anyone the dangers of untrained mentalism. We're going to have to rectify things, no matter your gift or where it came from." He took a long look at her and followed with a long inhale. "We're going to have to rectify quite a bit. As I said, I want you closer. A desk in the inquisitory, to be part of the organization, truly. Not just... in a more freelance role. I want you to get to know your fellows and to feel like you belong with them. And, starting tomorrow, you will have private lessons with Rhaena when it comes to your gift. I imagine she'll take you shopping first, which given your current state of dress, will be absolutely her pleasure. It's her way of breaking the ice. Do take her efforts in good faith."

[Tolleson]

As if he was one to talk about company kept! But then again it was his job to deal with all manner of people, the good, the bad, the reprehensibly promiscuous. Still she paused mid-pace and snapped a hot glance his way for the remark, though she didn’t dare say a word. Because, well, he was right; even if she was rather fond of the lot.

But the moment passed and she deflated with a sigh, yes, right; best not to keep him here all night. Shaking her head she seemed to be dismissing the prior matters, clearing Glenn’s attempt at charm, and all the sundry concerns that in chaos overwhelmed her. Here in this tidy list of ‘ones and twos’ he made the challenges manageable.

Slender fingers that once sought him now wrapped firmly around the chair back and she came to look at Glenn squarely. Right. Business.

“With Thessilane we will have some… damage control. Catch …” killed was the word and she couldn’t quite say it, “...took out at least a dozen guards, attacked Christoph and severely injured a fair few of their house staff.” And just how could she be sure, the lingering bruises on her arm were fair evidence but also, Christoph had called her by name. There was no hoping he might assume it was just some other household servant.

“My presence and… intervention,” scratch that, downright tackling of the madman, “should keep any resulting tension at bay, but Catch was … more unruly than usual.” If there was anything come from the Thessilane side it would surely be regarding Catch's attempt on various high ranking officials' lives, if not construed to be on Lamai herself. It seemed to pain her, but it was no secret that she was protective of the man-beast madman.

Joining the fellows, practicing her interesting and as of yet unidentified power, this was all well and good. But shopping? What follows is a soft groan, perhaps slight enough to slip by Glenn but the dire expression tugging at the corners of her mouth, surely was not. It had been bad enough that Lamai had made her a human doll. Now Rhaena too?

“Expert punishment. You are cruel Glenn,” and there it was, the smallest hint of a playful grin. Not a sweet, supplicant smile; it was sarcastic, rebellious, friendly, and genuine. Straight as her laces might be, they loosened here in an expression few others had ever known. It bespoke her comfort with the man and in some ways was for him, like the smile he had offered her.

But truthfully she had always been extremely fond of Rhaena, circumstances aside – they just happened to travel in entirely different circles. That is, if the company of books, maps, and scrolls could be considered a circle at all.