Admittedly, Nephele had never anticipated this kind of life. She has always been more inclined to bury herself in books, not pick up a spear to wield. That had always been Eriadne's forte. Then, perhaps, it is fitting after all? That the loss of her twin has led to her stepping into Eriadne's shoes. It's a dark thought, and one that fuels her as she moves through the Bodega. Ludo has given her the chakrams, and they will surely be the most effective weapons she could ask for. But Nephele is still lacking in other manners of war and weaponry.
As such she scans each stall for leathers, armor, smaller weapons to strap along thighs and between her wings. Nephele is not physically intimidating, but she is swift and sneaky. That will be the angle she must play upon as she moves against the Ascended.
A hand readjusts to pull Ludo's rags over her shoulders, the impossibly deep black of the fabric keeping many away from her side as she wanders through the Bodega, golden eyes sharp and hawklike as she considers her options.
The Bodega wasn't a frequent haunt - most of the main settlement wasn't - but she did enjoy perusing its wares. The Fae were a creative, resourceful bunch, and she had quite a few knick knacks from their market stalls. But as she window shopped, bundled warmly against the cold, Tishy mewled at something in the distance, entranced before scurrying off to investigate.
Steely teal eyes followed the cat sith kitten, dark against the snow, as it made its way over to someone clad in black. Not just any black though - Ludo's rags were distinct and familiar. With a warm smile she approached as well then, watching with amusement as the kitten popped up onto the stand before the Fae. [say]"I see Ludo has chosen to bless another. My warmest congratulations."[/say] she said softly, making sure to speak in the Fae tongue.
Nephele does not bother to survey her surroundings as she shops. Their soldiers are fiercely protective of the Village, and she has little mind for her fellow Fae, who avert their eyes from the mysterious rags about her shoulders. Unaware of their meaning or benefactor, but conscious all the same of its otherness.
The kitten that interrupts her perusal of wares, however, is not so easy to ignore. And quite recognizable, considering the omens and myths surrounding the Cat Sith. Brow rising at the unusual appearance, Nephele nevertheless fearlessly offers her hand for the kitten to sniff, to determine if perhaps a pet or two would be allowed.
The voice behind her is vaguely familiar, and instead of startling she merely goes very still. Used to being intruded upon in the Undercroft whenever deeply sucked into her book. When she turns her bright eyes, Delphia's appearance immediately strikes her memory, and she gives an incline of her head at the words spares in her mother tongue. [Say]"Thank you. It is an honor, though I would consider it more of an expectation than a blessing."[/say] After all, Nephele had never been devout in the first place, and certainly not to Ludo. She will not fool herself into believing she is favored for more than her passionate hatred of the Ascended.
Delphia's lips briefly quirked a smirk at the corners. What an interesting way to frame a blessing. [say]"I suppose many blessings come with expectations."[/say] she said in agreement. Perhaps Vi and Rae and their heralds were different, but death was the ultimate equalizer. Mort - and she suspected Ludo - did not give out blessings often without some expectation of equivalent recompense. Such was their nature and duty.
Tishy, however, could not have cared less about the trivialities of their conversation. Instead she hopped down onto the ground, wide eyes locked onto the raggedy edges of the cloak. She crouched down, butt wiggling as she tried to calculate the most opportune time to swat at the enticing wisps of fabric.
[say]"If you do not mind me asking, what expectation has been laid upon your shoulders in taking up Ludo's mantel?"[/say] she asked Nephele, curious as to the nature of this arrangement that had been made.
Her own petal lips curve in some sort of wry amusement, sharing in this silent agreement of preternatural balancing acts. [say]"Such is the way of gods."[/say] It has not bothered Nephele in the past, and it certainly does not bother her now. Ludo's expectations may weigh on her shoulders, but it will never compare to the weight of expectation that she has placed upon herself when it comes to protecting her people. They both benefit from this particular arrangement, and the equality of the scenario is comforting to her, born of earth and loam as she is.
Briefly Nephele glances down at the cat, watching the wriggle and sway of its hind end and quirking the edge of her mouth upward in amusement. Though she'd be inclined to grab the fabric and encourage the sway and dance of it any other time, the oracle is far more interesting in the moment.
Normally she would not dare be so free with information, especially of a sensitive nature such as her personal vendetta. Knowing that Delphia is Mort's child, however, is enough to loosen her tongue. [say]"To eradicate the Ascended."[/say] For such few, simple words, they are cutting and precise. As sharp as the look in her eyes as she glances towards the demigoddess. Awaiting a reaction, positive or negative, and revealing nothing further of her machinations.
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