"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
09-10-2020, 09:48 PM (This post was last modified: 09-10-2020, 09:52 PM by yadigar.)
YADIGAR
there’s a hole in my chest but it’s mine, baby, it’s all i got.
“We better!” Virgil calls to his elder sister as he laughs over his shoulder. He slips through the trees, letting them melt right through him with the gift Craft and Anatomy gave him. Above them, Yadigar looks so small as he glides over the towering pines of Taiga. It takes everything the angelic boy has to keep up while also looking back to be sure Asphyxea doesn’t get left behind. Of all their siblings, he finds that she is the most like him in many ways.
Yadigar lands ahead of them and uses his momentum to ease into a gallop. His talons tear up clumps of dirt and grasses that make it rather easy for his siblings and any other Pangeans to track him. But his attention lies solely on the world around him, how awful every inch of this earth feels. The sea of cold blues and greens must turn to reds and whites, he thinks. And so he exhales a brilliant, billowing flame that does exactly that.
His brother gives a cry of excitement as he veers left to mimic the destruction. Being younger, however, his flame is only half as magnificent as the crowned prince. Still, he is delighted to see the grasses sway in the wind as they pass the flame on to the other greenery. Virgil turns to Phyx with a grin. Yadigar does not pause to admire their work. He continues on with his tail thrashing angrily behind him, snarling between every sweeping breath of fire.
“Phyx stay close to me, okay? I don’t wanna get lost,” Virgil says, still giggling as he continues torching the northern territory. He wouldn’t get lost, of course, but he prefers the safety of her guidance while Gar seems to have lost himself to the ravenous need to destroy Nerine.
He briefly wonders if he could nudge his elder brother over the cliff and make it look like an accident. Just another loss for the noble cause.
@[Straia] @[Anaxarete] @[Beyza] @[asphyxea] i figured we should actually move this to nerine so it's less confusing lol
He’s tired. He cannot be magic and mortal, and he has long since slipped onto the magic side.
It’s the sort of tired where you’ve bypassed tired, actually, and you’re in some other realm of exhaustion where dreams and reality cease to be two discernable entities.
For Brennen, now, the reality is that he’s basically given himself up to the magic. He’s not aware of the outside world at all – he no longer feels the icy water against his skin or the bite of the bitter wind. He could no more defend his physical body than a fish could defend itself on land.
He is soaked, and the winter cold has turned the water to ice on his coat, in his mane and tail, layers and layers over the months he’s been motionless in the surf. As a result, there is no longer a bay stallion in the waters of Nerine but a vaguely horse-shaped ice statue, under which everyone assumes Brennen still stands. It glitters in the sunlight and gleams in the moonlight, and when the days are overcast, it is simply an eerie reminder of the precipice of uncertainty upon which they all find themselves balanced.
Can he maintain it forever? They will not know until he is challenged. It seems he is more magic than man, now, so the better question might be can he ever recover?
The voice of the witch is a whisper at first in his mind, but the insistent tug of his net at the Taiga border draws his attention and irritated, he turns his magic “eyes” towards the dissonance, feeling the intentions of the gathered Pangeans, “seeing” them simply as life signatures in varying colors and intensities. As the blood flows from the one, oozing towards the border, it freezes everywhere it touches the invisible line, frosting to a lurid pink that pools in frozen streams. But it keeps coming, and he imagines the metallic taste of it in disgust, recoiling from the oily dark blood magic that goes against all of his own principles.
The trees tower above even his magic self; their magic is not the same as is, it is turned inward with incredible peace that Brennen almost loses himself in for a moment. It’s cool and green, but even that green is incredibly warm compared to the blue and white of his own magic, flooding now into his every vein and artery as if he has never been a red-blooded creature. It’s seductive and he has to draw himself away with great effort, caressing the tall proud trees with a shiver of bottomless regret.
He is not going to save them. But their magic will preserve their essence, and some day they will grow tall here again. The fire will cleanse this forest as fire naturally does; it will bring new life here. Perhaps another magician, one whose blood runs green rather than blue, will help them along. Brennen “reaches” out for the sign of lifeforms, and if they are in danger they cannot deal with themselves, and they are willing, they are absorbed in the cool touch of the ocean and whisked away to Nerine. Those who are not in danger or unwilling to go he leaves behind, with the same idle feeling of regret he leaves to the trees.
When the evacuation is complete, Brennen simply…. lets go of Taiga. His magic recedes like the tide, and the cool net of protection gives way to the heat and fury of @[Maleficar]’s feral minions, their fire sweeping across the redwood to be dealt with by someone else.
That magic must go somewhere, it cannot simply cease to exist, so it flows with a rush of power back into the shields still in place around Icicle Isle, Nerine, and the Pampas. Ripples flow from the Brennen-statue out into the water, and the ground trembles for some area around his feet. Fleetingly, he reaches for @[Neverwhere]’s mind, and from her gaining the knowledge to connect as well to @[Leilan]. There are no words – magic does not speak, after all, and the words Brennen has always been so adept at are frozen inside his physical body. But magic has eyes, and images, and feelings; he shows them Taiga, Maleficar, the young creatures rushing towards Nerine, the fire that comes from them and spreads to the ancient redwoods. He leaves them with a sense of urgency, his deep sorrow at the fate of the forest, his fury at the attack of the witch.
A part of him that knows that there is an existence outside of the magic hopes they can make sense of the images from the perspective of magic and the overwhelming feelings of a magician who has lost all ability to filter his feelings through society’s social graces.
He regrets giving up Taiga, but strategically he knew it must be done.
The dragon-children with @[yadigar] burn their way across Taiga towards Nerine, but the backwash of magic brings them up short. Their fire doesn’t touch the cool green meadow on the hill underneath the crisp white of the frost and snow; it wouldn’t harm the water or the cliffs anyway, but he doesn’t allow even the smallest of stray scorch marks. The physical barrier holds for now; they cannot enter with the magics that have been worked so far on their behalf.
Maleficar will need a much bigger sacrifice.
Or other magicians who can face off against the bay warrior without his limitations; magicians willing to shed their physical limitations as he has and meet him magic-for-magic.
The magician sends another tremor along his connection to Neverwhere and Leilan – a harsh note of warning, a heartbeat of uncertainty. The slightest caress of affection.
In this fashion he could hold forever against the fire, against the dragon-children who need to be reined in before they burn down the world. He is tempted to swat them from the sky; he has seen nothing in his life from the dragonborn except mindless destruction stemmed from unbearable arrogance and lack of self-control.
But he can’t hold forever against other magicians, so if they dragonborn have brought friends, Brennen will eventually fall. This is not the danger he was recruited to stand against, but he will stand for as long as he can.
(ooc: since brennen isn't really "here", I'm cross-posting this in several relevant places).
09-11-2020, 04:00 AM (This post was last modified: 09-11-2020, 11:02 AM by Eurwen.)
The secret of walking on water is knowing where the rocks lie
Eurwen
A rose-gold flash might have been seen, but then Fechín is gone to warn her family. She runs as fast as the almost-3-year-old has never run before, and just when she arrives to find her mother and sister, a shockwave pulls through her bones in a magical, slightly disturbing way. No images follow for either Fechín or Eurwen, though - but the story the teenage mare has to tell reveals enough, especially when Eurwen pays attention to what is going on on Nerine’s stone surfaces. Fechín calls a warning to her sister and father, as they move towards the more rocky planes in the north, and runs back south amidst the chaos that begins to erupt.
Eurwen fumes. There had been so many times that the Pangeans invaded their personal space here up north. Once, she had thought it might be better to just leave them alone, and they would find someplace else to bully and pick on. Lilli of course just had to make her move, and that had been the only reason nobody had stolen her back - Eurwen convinced herself that the game was dying out and no longer fun.
Nothing was less true, it seemed, and for this, she was angry both with herself and with Ghaul. Fire to cleanse the land, it was fracking bullshit. He never burned any of the Eastern lands, and now he came for Nerine twice. And Taiga as well. The only place that likely wouldn’t burn was the Isle; everything burn-able was dead there already, and covered in snow and ice this time of year anyway. Taiga, having endured a Reckoning before - the sequoias might survive again, but not before lots and lots of green would get destroyed as well.
She stands on the northernmost edge of the forest, feels them coming through the ground. The rock in the ground trembles lightly, just like the muscles in her legs, the only warning that someone is there and likely doing something.
This is her mother’s home.
It is not the rocks she calls upon this time, not right away. There had been another gift, who knows how long, waiting for this kind of opportunity it seems - and while Eurwen’s mind explodes with raw power, a storm comes from the north: the icy wind that normally sweeps over the seas and the Isle, are pulled together and pushed southwards. After that, any rock between her place in south Nerine and Taiga whips upwards like a wall, separating her and her loved ones from the fire that now threatens Taiga from the north, as well as whomever is attempting a burning out there above the trees.
Eurwen doesn’t really see it, though. Instead, she cocoons in her own granite, and passes out.
Idk how many/ who are coming north but basically a very strong northern wind is currently blowing north to south and it’s probably very cold because it hails from the north seas/isle. It will run it’s course and then die out because she has no control over it after creation.
Fire won’t spread to the northern parts of Nerine super easily that way, esp. since Brennen is also dousing any fire that is not on pine trees, but yes this means more smoke and fire towards Taiga as well (yay). Looking to the Nerine map, a stone wall separates north and south Nerine basically at half height, about where the forest in the west is.
Eurwen will not respond further as she basically whipped up a hurricane-like force and did some massive rock things, so her magic is spent and she has buried herself so she won’t burn alive (or in her comatose state). Idk yet what happens to her next.
She comes, not for Ghaul of course, because she has never served anyone but herself. She comes, as she does everything, with her own agenda. It just so happens that to aid Ghaul, may perhaps, aid her own cause, though in the end she would act of her own volition as she always does.
Loess is left to Ghaul, who needs little help and besides, she has a soft spot for Loess. In truth, she wants Taiga, for it is the closest thing to home that she has seen in this wretched new version of Beqanna, but she will let it be destroyed for now. Perhaps it can be reborn anew in a better way, shaped and molded beneath ancient hooves that remember what Beqanna is capable of being.
Or perhaps something altogether different will occur. Regardless, if she ends up playing with her magic for a time for no other reason, it is enough.
She arrives on the border of Nerine, where Brennen’s magic - stretched far too thin, mind you - attempts to keep them out. There’s a gust of wind and she can feel some other activity in the distance. It would be easy to rip their magic away from them. She can feel the tendrils of it, can imagine the satisfaction of watching it all be taken away. They rely so heavily on magic that none of them truly know where real power comes from.
Straia, on the other hand, has not always been like this, but she has always been powerful.
”@[Brennen],” she coos, voice like a long lost lover, though there’s something dark and wicked at its edges. ”Why do you hide behind your magic, protecting lands that are nothing compared to what they could be? You are as ancient as I am...or perhaps even more so.” She cocks her head slightly, trying to place together the timeline though the difference doesn’t matter anymore. ”You remember Beqanna as it once was. Such a beautiful thing, alive and vibrant. This Beqanna is a shell of her former self. I wish only to restore that which we have lost.”
She could wait for an answer, and she does in a way. The fire starts small, just a small bonfire that rages against his magic. If he is more magic than mortal now, she will simply burn up the substance of him. It’s not much, to start. Just enough to get his attention. If he does not relent (she doubts he will for those who call themselves good never do, to their own downfall), the fire will grow. It will spread, eating away at the magic that already consumes him, until it burns up whatever is left. Or at least, that is the goal, one she thinks she can likely accomplish. He is spread too thin, whereas she is not.
Straia is attempting to burn Brennen/his magical barrier. But also she's totally not loyal to anyone but herself so feel free to try and strike a bargain with her...
She has been guarding Brennen for a year, long enough to know by heart the way the magic washes over him, long enough that the steady thrum of it is like a second heartbeat, a second sort of breath. She knows the dark shape of him in the water, the way the shadows swirl around his legs when the tide rolls about him, the way the shadows tucked beneath his wings nestle close between his skin and those black feathers held close across his back, and because she knows these things, she knows, too, when the change comes. It's subtle, from her perch on the cliff, Beryl's coffee-brown eyes dart from the glimmering sea and back to the unmoved magician, her brow furrowing.
Everything looks the same, but it isn't. There's a change in the pattern of his magic as it runs through her, and her ears turn back, her mouth twisting into a suspicious frown. She has promised to watch over Brennen in the water, but if something has happened, something strong enough to pluck at Brennen's magic like a spider testing its silken web, then Nerine is in danger, too. A growl curls low in her throat as she turns her gaze away to the south, to Taiga where spots of smoke rise so much like fog above the wild trees. Smoke. She remembers the burning of the Isle, and the pitch of her growl heightens as dark shadows coil tight and cool, a familiar kiss on her skin. Her golden fur turns dusky, her mane nearly black and the starshine on her shoulder is obscured entirely, swallowed by the slinky darkness. Underfoot, the ground trembles, and the wind whips angrily so her mane and tail fly in the icy wind like dark banners.
dragons
A voice, whispers in her ear, dry as the smoke that grows and encroaches. Of course it's dragons, but Brennen's magic keeps their worst damage at bay for now. This settles her, she keeps her post, turning back to the sea-bound stallion as a second voice rings up in her ears. Its familiarity makes them fall flat. The golden mare knows those snakeskin tones, and she remembers that patterned skin. The painted mare has brought her more dragons.
No, Beryl thinks, I brought those ones.
A fire bursts to life. Beryl bares her teeth and shadows sleeping in the gravelly seabed awaken, rising with such speed that a wave of saltwater sprays over the magician, seeking to douse the small flame. She leaps from her cliff, dropping easily into shadow and out again, landing at the water's edge where the seawater licks at her feet.
"What are you doing here?"
Entity. A strange word, and a strange thing to be.
09-11-2020, 11:25 AM (This post was last modified: 09-11-2020, 11:29 AM by Anaxarete.)
she's the only one who knows what it is to burn.
“Why do you fight so hard to protect this?” There is clear distaste in her cold voice. But she does not understand his loyalty to this place. The shadowmare emerges from a portal of shadows and magic. The shadows swirl around her – softening the edges between flesh and darkness. Eager to do her bidding.
She doesn’t understand how those of old have become attached to this new Beqanna. This new Beqanna which is such a gross perversion of the world they once knew. The shadowmare will never fully belong in a Beqanna without the Chamber. She had tried to build something in Pangea, and it was amusing for a time. But there was no comparison to Chamber and there never would be. Pangea was a place for her people – nothing more. There was not heartbeat to the land. No magic beneath the dry soil. It was just a place to gather and plan. Why did those of old fight tooth and nail to protect that which was so…ordinary? What she had done in Pangea she could have done anywhere. It was not the land itself that was important – but it was the citizens of Pangea that had created this opportunity. This opportunity for rebirth. For cleansing.
This display of foolish loyalty to this place - it was truly fascinating to her.
But perhaps these lands could be transformed into something worth fighting for. Even if just a flicker of the Beqanna of old could be uncovered she would happily raze it to the ground. Which is what brings her to the border of Nerine today with those from Pangea. She feels no remorse. Her eyes burn red as she watches the flames lick across the landscape. For the first time in a long time she sees opportunity.
To rebuild something worth protecting.
Worth living for.
She looks to Straia – to the Raven Queen who had loved the Chamber as she had – giving the woman a nod of appreciation.
Her attention is diverted, momentarily, by one who seeks to use the shadows to douse Straia’s flames. Anaxarete almost laughs at the attempt – immediately shielding the flames with her own, more powerful shadows.
She doesn’t presume to know the depths of Beqanna’s magic – of the magic that pulled Straia back. However, she does know it’s foolish to presume that Straia’s attentions would be focused exclusively on Sochi. However, she turns her attention back to the task at hand, throwing her shadows towards the barrier – watching as the darkness flickers into flames as soon as they touch the barrier Brennen had created.
"Let it burn." It's all she says. All she needs to say.
tl;dr: ana says lets burn new bq down because it sucks. uses shadows to try to block other shadow users (beryl) from dousing fire. throws shadows at barrier in attempt to help straia burn it dowwwwn.
Breach is not an entirely loyal creature, but she is loyal to a few.
She is loyal to Yadigar.
So while she has no interest in helping Ghaul pursue his interests, she is interested in protecting his son. Thus she makes the journey. She feels when it starts in her very bones and there’s something desperate that snaps in the back of her mind. Something fearful and angry and nearly feral. She cries out as she shifts and takes to the skies in her favored hawk form, her wings spread wide as she cuts through the skyline quickly, efficiently, and largely unseen by anyone who may look upward.
And she arrives to chaos.
When the wind begins to pick up, there is a feeling of panic as she fights against the gusts. She begins to feel herself thrown to the side, the distinct sensation of waves nearly pulling her under as it picks up, as the cold air begins to sluice through her. Knitting her brow, she spirals downward and shifts as she lands, taking on a significantly larger form as a rhino, feeling slower but heavier and more substantial.
The magic in the air is unlike anything she has ever experienced in her life of physical magic. This was not the gift of changing forms. This was shadows and darkness and invisible force fields. She hates it. Immediately. The loathing burns through her as she begins to charge, frustration bubbling in her chest as she realizes that she has yet to see Yadigar. That she has no idea at all where he is.
It’s then that she hears it.
Have you tired of Sochi already?
The mention of her comatose mother cuts through everything else and she snaps her horned head to the side to see the star-touched mare. Everything else bleeds away in her mother’s fury that now rages in her. Shifting once more, uncaring about the exhaustion that accompanies this many shifts in a row, she shifts into her tigress form. It is alarming how much she resembles her mother now that she is grown and it feels right to wear it as she launches herself toward the darkness wielder, claws outstretched toward her shoulder and jaw snapping at her jugular.
I want to swim until we both begin to feel the weightlessness sink in
Breach showed up as a hawk and got beat up by the winds. Landed and shifted into a rhino and charged around for a bit if you want to get by that. She overheard Beryl talk shit so she turned into a tiger and is currently trying to find out how quickly actual magic can kill a cat.
Ama knew something was wrong when the wind that brushed her cheek blew hot. The wind in Nerine was never hot, especially not in the dead of winter. The faint scent of smoke that followed it only confirmed the ache in her gut that said Danger.
From her rocky den, the dark and shining girl trotted until the glow of firelight painted the horizon, the smoke filling the air more visibly. Her trot became a gallop.
Fear and Rage and Glee touched her, as potent as the heat, as real as the flames licking the landscape. They emanted from the cluster of creatures on the craggy moor. Her craggy moor. Her home. They were burning her home. "No. Nonononono, stop it! What are you doing, stop it!" She screamed as her nimble legs brought her careening into the chaotic scene. Firelight gleamed from her stony surface, igniting her gemstone eyes with horror as faces she knew confronted ones that she didn't.
The very air itself distorted with magic and heat mirage. Dream-like the mayhem unfolded, as surreal as any nightmare the girl had known. Something unbidden swelled in her heart, squirming and throbbing foot release until it could be contained no longer. Panic, raw and real and all consuming bloomed from within until all who came near would be overtaken by it. It rippled out in waves, while Amarine watched her home being torched, and felt powerless to save it.
...Amarine
Ama discovers her home being attacked and sendsa rippling wave of Panic throughout the field. The closer to her you are, the stronger the effect, and vice versa.
i've been around this world and now everything's a bore i don't know that much, but i know about keeping score
Chaos comes when the dragonborn call.
They dance and they waltz, proudly arrogant creatures full of overestimated magic and fire. Phyx is not immune to her own wiles, finding herself intoxicated by the heat bubbling in her throat. Drunken and uninhibited, she flashes out another wave of fire, this one strong enough to match her brother's spitting from ahead.
Yadigar is . . . the princess begins to think, briefly frowning up at the sky, wondering why he suddenly feels so strange; but the thought is quickly cut off by Virgil veering to the left, and that nagging protective instinct kicks in.
Phyx turns to follow her younger sibling, occasionally flitting suspicious eyes to the sky to see if Yadigar has taken flight again. As much as the adrenaline in her veins is shouting for her to enjoy this, she cannot shake the strange stirring Maleficar's magic has caused in her gut. Yadigar is . . . Phyx begins once again, but quickly shakes the thought away.
Yadigar is capable of taking care of himself.
"Virgil!" Phyx calls ahead, as her thoughts and her observations have caused her to falter a few behind her eager brother. She sets fire to the pine needles to her right as she catches up to him, a sickly sweet smell sweltering in her nostrils. "Let's find something for fun to set on fire, then!" she answers him with a nod, her own violent promise to keep him safe. He is of her blood and her bone, her only loyalty - but that doesn't mean she won't seek out further danger.
The princess comes to a skittering halt, though, when a wave of panic washes over her. Glittering teal eyes flit angrily from shadow to shadow as her talons dig furiously into the damp Taigan soil. The Nerinian border is just ahead, and as a supremely calm and calculated creature, Phyx knows that what she is feeling is not natural - and that its waves grow more powerful the closer she gets to Nerine.
"Virgil!" Phyx cries again, this time unable to mask the magic's panic now coloring her voice. The dragonmare forces all of her thoughts to collect, to steer her panic into power, to ride the wave of adrenaline even if it will make her crash. Everything scatters: her thoughts, her actions, the scenery before her now diamonds and starlight.
Only one thing is clear: don't let her brother lose his head.
Phyx bursts into a sudden gallop, brushing shoulders with her brother to steer him toward a sudden flash of fire. She hardly notices there was once a wall where the flames now burn, instead dipping her head and flattening her ears to rush headlong into Nerine.
Control barely exists for her now: she can only think to find the magician that has ripped her cool mind from her tightly knitted talons.
A screech, feral and desperate, peals from the very depths of Asphyxea's throat. Fire follows suit, the biggest burst of fire the princess has ever managed to spit. She grins now, eyes wild with frantic fear and fury.
"Panic maker!" she screams, pressing forward, wide eyes searching. Her mouth opens wide to reveal glittering dragon teeth soon to be covered by more licking flames.
The panic pulses and warps, but Phyx presses further as its effects grow stronger. She has nearly forgotten Virgil, and a stray thought hopes that he is following her.
It is Amarine that she finds, though she cannot be certain she is the magician - so deeply entrenched in her panic and roaring ears, though, Phyx does not care. She flies toward the bejeweled mare, mouth open and talons digging angrily into the earth.
and if there's one thing i know for sure, it'd be a long cold day in hell when i take you back
tldr; phyx is w/ virgil while mildly afraid for gar. she feels the panic as they reach nerine and is so angry abt that she rushes forward through a burned part of the wall and nearly forgets virgil. hopefully her brother is following her but now she is too close to the panic and is trying to eat amarine.
Risk had done his best to put his foot down for once by telling his children they could not go north. But Breach was entirely her mother’s child and she left despite his pleas to simply remain in Hyaline where it was safe. Spirit had lingered a while longer as he promised their father that they would be careful, that he would watch over her. It pained him to see the worried look in his father’s tired eyes when he finally nodded. Naturally, he remained by Sochi’s side as he had for weeks now while Spirit set off after his sister.
He flies as an albatross, gliding on ocean winds rather than making a bee-line right for Nerine. Arriving directly with the others was entirely unlike him, after all. But as he draws closer to the territory, he can see waves of opposing magic clashing against one another like rival tsunamis. Fire meets the wall and shadows lap at the barrier eagerly. A sudden gust startles Spirit and he realizes he must land quickly or be tossed southward.
He tucks his long wings as he begins a descent far faster than he might’ve liked. Thankfully, he spots a forming hole in the burning wall that is a little larger than this body. Spirit keeps his wings tight to his sides until the last moment, and then he releases this form. He lands roughly on four hooves with enough momentum still that he must stumble to a stop. Ahead, Breach charges at strangers in the body of a rhino, and he wonders why she seems so frantic. Amarine’s wave hits him then, with an urgency to protect her rising rapidly through him.
“Breach! I’m coming!” he calls to her as he breaks into a run.
When he arrives at her side, he has taken the form of an elephant, ears spread wide with magnificent tusks curling from his jaws. He touches his trunk to her shoulder, but they are each distracted by someone calling their mother’s name over the building fires. How could anyone tire of someone so monumental, he wonders?
But Breach is already running at the stranger. He remains driven to protect her, and so he follows along close behind with his great head lowered to gore or sweep anyone who might try to harm his sister. Spirit reaches desperately into his core for that magic that has slumbered quietly within him. It does not come as naturally as the shifting, but it comes whenever it is called.
“Just close your eyes and hold your breath.
Reach down deep, to your lowest depth.
Recall your shadows; don’t let them roam.
Blacken your heart and destroy your home.”
He keeps his bright green eyes trained on Beryl as he speaks, watching her closely while his heartbeat thunders in his ears.
Spirit is an elephant with junk in his trunk, trying to use charmspeak to turn @[Beryl] against Nerine so that @[breach] will be safe. If you want his charm to affect your character too then that could be a thing for ~spicy trauma~ later but entirely up to you.
