#[ ooc: since it's been a bit; i'd note Mai omits telling Seraph that Ori is in their world- ]

[allthatisleftinthedark]

As Maisie attentively listens, she acknowledges the updates regarding the other party's world with occasional, soft nods and quiet commentary like "Is that so?" With composure retained, she remains relatively unchanged throughout his talking, though her gaze occasionally flickers from the now-dressed elf to the surroundings behind him. 

Despite the limited view in the mirror, the gnome learned early that every interior can tell a story. The bathroom showcases exquisite marble walls and tiles, each exterior beading with fresh dew and steam wafting over the surfaces. Droplets gently roll down a sizable pillar to the furthest left corner. Though Maisie cannot gain a full scope of the room, she glimpses the ceiling that rivals the soaring arches of churches and temples she has seen. A closed door is visible to the left of the pillar, likely leading to the bedroom. Hopefully, it is livelier than this room's dreary and completely monochromatic white palette. For a moment, her calm expression cracks as she grimaces. It only serves as a reminder of that city, with spires breaking the sun's rays and splitting apart clouds. That place is a black mark on the sun.

From his peripheral vision, the champion may notice that Maisie rests one of her hands on her upper thigh while the other remains out of sight. Her serene countenance is a picture of tranquility. However, the reflection intermittently distorts, rippling with small waves, and the intervals between each ripple are regular and precise. The "line," as Maisie termed it, changes after each tide.  "Mister De Vinter, do not mind the attunements," Maisie pardons herself. "Tethering the connection means that the image becomes clearer."

In the night's backdrop, Seraph can now distinguish the distant pinpricks of stars instead of the earlier blurred twinkles in the night canvas five minutes ago. Looming behind the gnome is a tree of impressive stature; its robust dark trunk is marked by several deep fissures, supporting a dense, deep green canopy large enough to obscure daylight, leaving only dappling shades as evidence that the sun is out. However, it is the time of shadows now. The only sign of life emanates from the tree, which is dual-toned ku-ku. Beyond this solitary giant, the land hints at either being on the edge of a forest or nestled within a secluded clearing in its depths. All too apparent is that the tree is at the heart of the meadow, and Maisie Doscedar is in its presence.

Despite the warmth in good company, that revelation chills her blood, sending a shiver down her mortal body. Names so forbidden they are considered taboo. Maisie considers them akin to fables meant to scare children. She thinks once upon a time, at least.

When Makoto's eyes mirror the same red hue that devotees cry at the battlefront for the throne, she feels all the smaller and isolated. It serves as a reminder of how much her life has changed and how many others could be affected if she isn't careful. The precarious nature of war and any future entanglement with it will have dire consequences that ripple outwards.

"Mister Igarashi did indeed inform me that he had spoken with your companions during your coma." Maisie unwittingly reverts to formal manners. "However, he omitted that you three were dragged into that realm." She stops, her lips pressing together in thought. "Perhaps he deemed it inconsequential for me not to know such details," she says, her eyes diverting.

Why would he feel compelled to disclose such information? His reluctance and belligerence at the tower made that ever more evident. He has been pushed before and shouldn't be again; no one should be forced to talk about what they don't want to. 

As the conversation returned to the subject of Makoto, her eyes flitted back to Seraph. "He speaks, acts, and even visits on his terms and time. There are no set expectations, and I would rather he not feel under compulsion to divulge more than he is comfortable with. All I hope is that he knows he can talk freely with me about anything, no matter how profound or mundane the topic may be."

A knowing hum rings from her, "Mister Igarashi is aware that he's always welcomed the Doscedar home. Why else would he frequently fly from Rivera to visit?" 

Upon mentioning that name, the woman falls silent as if something stings her. She responds, "Of course," without indicating whom she refers to.

Seraph may spot how quickly Maisie's attitude ricochets from afar to glee upon the last question asked. She is already adjusting her posture and sits upright, both hands resting on her thighs. Almost as if she's preparing for a lecture. 

"Unlike your party, nothing melds us together. No divine intervention or anything mundane placed us in those circumstances. Obligations tether us to our paths, and none of ours converge. If my course sees that I must travel alongside 'Koto, then it shall be. But my duty is here while his in his father's court." 

With a delighted sigh, she rests one hand above her heart, beginning her tale, "Officially, I am the ambassador to Dewburrow. I serve on behalf of my village... Well, our village, really. It's a quaint settlement in the northwestern-most part of Argyll right before Sidheanholm." 

"Understandably, emissiarial duties are conflated to a township's political interests as most would make surface-level assumptions." Her hands take turns moving, returning to rest on her legs before she rolls her wrist or flattens her palm. "Not only would the one responsible keep this in mind, but they are also representatives. Cultural and social aspects are extensively considered by virtue of the fact that we are extensions and placeholders for an entire community. It's a common saying that we're bridges from our small place to the rest of the world." 

She leans in slightly. "In reality, I am like an abutment that supports a bridge. One cannot simply lay out bricks, call it safe passage, and expect people to pass through without the threat of it collapsing. Being an ambassador is about more than diplomacy and negotiations. We are tethers." 

"For most, this would be straining, and I do not deny how sensitive my work can be. Alas, this is my duty. For what the village has provided and given to me, it is the least I can do." She ends with a content sigh, though her eyes linger elsewhere on the ground as she speaks. 

"Now, concerning you," her gaze returns to Seraph, her gloved and closed hand rests against her chin. "Are you three eating well? Are you managing to get enough hours of sleep and all that?"

"Well, as far as things go...I'm busy trying to figure out all of my new abilities...For the time being, I've lost my ability to fly, but in it's place, I can jump up to forty feet in the air. I can still cast magic pretty damn well."

Seraph hadn't really gotten a good look at Maisie back in the tower, but now, he finds himself taking in her features. The first thing that strikes him is the color of her hair, much brighter, fuller than his companion Sino's. Of course, he knew about the bleaching and what little Sino has talked about in regards to her past...He's come to understand a bit more, though he's been trying to learn more on his own. Then there's the outfits that Maisie wears, robes, more befitting someone who uses magic, though he's aware that she's trained in the use of a rapier, evidenced by their battle against the Red Raven within the tower.

Sino's got an outfit more befitting of long periods of travel, and close combat. Though he knows she hangs back and takes enemies out from afar. She's also got a bit more muscle than Maisie. Though Maisie certainly travels as well, but with her more formal clothing he assumes she has some sort of experience in diplomat work. He does note the goggles in her hair. He's a little surprised at that, but perhaps she needs them depending on where she goes.

"Things are definitely interesting...I spent two weeks in a coma, talking with he who shall not be named and...It's definitely interesting. I'm surprised Makoto didn't tell you that we were dragged into his realm. However temporary it might've been...It's not something I'll forget any time soon."

He hadn't mentioned talking to Khorne to the others, no need to give them more things to worry about in regards to him. He feels his skin crawling at the memory of Khorne wearing his face, though of course...He made some modifications. More befitting of what he felt would fit Seraph. Rippling muscle, horns grown from the side of his head along with sharper teeth and a lot more scars than he currently held. Blood dripped from clawed hands, and the smile on his face was far too wide and filled with teeth for his liking.

"I know he's a handful...But I think you can read him well enough. Sino certainly knows how to read me, and I'd be surprised if you weren't the same with him. Just...Give him time. He'll open up eventually, if he's anything like me, when he wants to be, he can actually be pretty personable."

[Though, I don't have anything approaching the body count he has. I shudder to think about how much blood he has on his hands, even if...Even if it's from war.]

"Keep an eye on him and the other one, Salphan. I know that they get along with each other like oil and water, if his bleeding thoughts are any indication."

Seraph doesn't mention that Makoto views Salphan as competition of some sort. Though that was more subtle than the overwhelming annoyance he held for the black haired elf who had basically insulted not only him, but his father. He thinks about how dragons can hold on to grudges, and it was the same for dragonborn. Combined with his "brother's" legendary lack of patience for others on a good day, nature as a demispirit and Khorne in his ear...He's surprised Makoto hadn't gone off and tried killing the other yet.

"So, what exactly do you do Miss Doscedar? I know that you don't travel with Makoto, because you two just met, right?"