Grey nodded. "Each thread in this bubble does a different thing so it has a different resonance... so if you just touch one at a time, then it creates a unique wavelength. If you know what each wavelength sounds like, you can compose a melody from it."

 Gray demonstrated and placed your hands where they needed to be... and you found yourself weaving runes of power to play that you didn't even know existed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LuugLQXCRe0


 "I'm sorry. Father was fighting. There was an army of mages that called themselves Oracles. I didn't know what else to do."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:09, Sun 29 Dec 2019.

Mistral listened and played along, touching the invisible strings and swaying her head in time with the supernal symphony.  She nodded, then answered, “Bien sûr.  I have spent long years designing these threads and studying their resonances in combination, but never once have I thought to strum them.  Merci for your creative insight, Grey.  I am pleased to learn from you.”

A little later, Mistral looked down into the roiling seas and said, “I seek no apology, for it was not done with intent.  I am sorry your soul was taken for doing what you thought you must.”  A long pause, and then she went on, “It has always troubled me that of all the population of le ville cast into the horrors of Pandemonium, I was the sole survivor of the scourging... I still do not know if all the deaths were because of my awakening, or if I was simply the one who survived a terrible catastrophe... Perhaps I will never know.  It never felt like a victory, to have lived.  Nor that I deserve the awakening.”

Mistral glanced back to Grey and said, “For what it is worth, I am glad you were brought back, and to have met you.”

---

Roll to see if Mist knows anything about the Oracles or the conflict Grey mentions:

• 23:32, Today: Mistral rolled 2 successes using 6d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 6,4,9,8,3,3.  Int + Occult.

This message was last edited by the player at 09:42, Mon 30 Dec 2019.

 Grey sat on an elevated part of the ship, watching the ocean with Mistral. "You sound like Father. Before we came here, we were transporting refugees. They were all sick with Soul Rot and Father tried everything he could to save them. In the end, all of them died and he blamed himself.

 I don't think you should feel bad about living though. You can do things because you're here. If you weren't, then you couldn't."

 Grey paused for a moment at the last bit before smiling. "I'm glad I met you too. I never had a mother before."

Mistral sighed and said, “Survivor’s guilt... I suppose that is worse in a way, when one feels as if they have failed to save those one is responsible for.  I would tell your father that he did the best he was able, and the failure was no fault of his.  In my case, I had no say in that decade-old calamité.  Perhaps it is hubris to think that the deaths were because of moi, apart from the knowing that awakenings generally do not occur accidentellement.”  The taciturn magess cracked a sad smile at Grey’s way of expressing that one ought not feel bad about surviving when others did not.  She answered, “I may do things because I am alive...   What a uniquely Grey philosophie de la vie.  I shall remember that.”

Then with a child’s casual cheer Grey floored Mistral by claiming her as a mother.  Mistral stared wide-eyed at the silvery elfin godling, not sure what to say.  Her first inclination was to deny such a role, because it was so far outside her expertise as to be absurd.  She had long ago ruled out motherhood as a life path for herself, because her selfish misanthropy would of course make her a terrible mother.  Better not to subject a child to that.  Yet sat next to her was a strange and incredible child with the power to create anything imaginable, but who wished for a mother.  There was a welling of curious feelings at this notion which she didn’t quite understand, but she swallowed them and managed to say, “I feel unqualified for motherhood, but... for you, Grey, I will try.”

 Grey's face lit up and the somber moment was broken with a "Yay!" as she hopped off her perch and grabbed Mistral around the neck in a hug. She hung off of Mistral, mostly weightless (though she had enough weight on her to not be carried off by the wind, but little more).

 "Will you teach me how you open portals? Father says I can't use mine because I'll break things."

Mistral was startled by Grey’s leap, but by the time the elfin godling landed her hug she was smiling.  She put her arms around the strangely near-weightless child, accepting the hug awkwardly but with unexpected happiness.  This child was something entirely apart from humanity and felt nothing like a person to the touch, but yet Mistral felt a very human connection in this moment.  They still held onto one another as Grey asked about portals, and Mistral looked at her with shining eyes.  It took her a little longer than it ought to to respond, but when she did she asked, “And what, précisément, would you do with une Porte?  How am I to know you will not break things with this sort as well, ma fille?”

Mistral squinted thoughtfully, then asked, “When you speak of ‘Father’, do you mean Talion, or Noah?”

 Grey remained weightless and pressed her elfin ears against her stomach. "I haven't felt any gravitational distortions when you open a portal... so if I learned how you do it, I could go to Colombia and back to restock on coffee more easily. Jitters eats a lot of coffee."

 Grey pulled up and shifted so that she could sit in the crook of Mistral's arm. With her slight weight, it took no more effort than crossing her arms. "Talion is Father... but there isn't really a word in human language for my relationship with Noah. 'Soul-Mate' and 'Symbiote' are as close as I can come. Noah used the word 'Philios' but that's Greek and we're not brother and sister."

Portals to visit Colombia to bring back silos full off coffee beans to feed an over-caffeinated squirrel warrior...  It sounded almost innocent.  Mistral pretended to consider while Grey got comfortable on the crook of her arm.  She then asked in an attempt at a light tone, “Would you tell me a story, ma fille?  Tell me of your previous adventures in Colombia.  How did you get the coffee, and what people did you meet on the le voyage?  Did you happen across any jet fighters or hélicoptères d'attaque on your way back home?”

Mistral nodded and said with a smirk, “There could be no word, for there has never been such a relationship between a dragon and so unique a child as you.  Perhaps we must invent a new word?”  She offered, “‘Greyfinity’?”

 Grey kept her arm's around Mistral's neck as she got comfortable. Most children did this for stability but Mistral knew Grey needed no such thing. "Well, I put Jitters into a piece of Noah's Kaiju system and then we flew into space. Then we used Noah's GPS watch and Google maps to find Colombia.

 When we landed, I rode him like a horsey until we found the coffee fields and I turned a hundred pounds of dirt into gold to trade for two silos of coffee... then we ate one and went back into space. Then we came home. After I put the silo up, Jitters and I decided to try sun roasting coffee. That was when you all came back from your mission.

 I never met any helicopters or planes while I was flying though. Also, I like the word 'Symbiote'. That's a fun word to say... 'Symbiote'."

Mistral walked along the ship’s rail with Grey perched upon her arm and clinging, her free arm around the girl while she reinforced the big ward.  She listened to the extraordinary tale with equal parts fascination and alarm.  In the end she said, “Extraordinaire.  No one was confused to see yourself and Jitters in armor, mademoiselle?  I suppose gold speaks volumes...  Beware, however, that gold will not be so valuable in the future if you fabricate it in this way.  Can you not fabricate the coffee beans themselves, or perhaps create a hydroponic coffee farm on the vessel?”

“Symbiotique, oui.  An excellent word.  You have nearly become a  symbiote avec moi, with how you cling.  It is okay.  I do not mind.”

 "We got some confused looks but no one stopped us."

 She paused for a moment when she was told that gold wouldn't be valuable if she printed it. "Why though? It's not any different just because I made it."

 However the  questions about growing or printing coffee got her attention. "I can grow coffee? Do you know how? I can't print it because I can't use life magic, but growing coffee would be fun."

"Intrigante... I imagine the newly-rich Colombian coffee farmers have quite a tale to tell."  Grey asked about why she ought not to print gold, which caused Mistral to ponder how to explain value and basic economics to a child for whom the concept of resource limitations would be entirely foreign.  Mistral ventured, "Bien sûr, your gold is no worse than natural gold in a matériel sense.  However, the monetary value of gold is not in the matériel, but in its scarcity.  Rocks are nearly valueless because they are everywhere, but because gold is rare people will trade it for things of value.  If large amounts of new gold were created and put into distribution, it would become a common matériel, and less valuable."  She looked to the silvery elfin child perched on her arm and got the feeling that this explanation might not be entirely sinking in, and so she put it into more concrete terms, "If all coffee farmers lived in châteaux built entirely of gold, they would no longer want to trade their coffee for a small amount of gold, for they have much already."

This discussion on coffee was going off on quite the tangent, but at least it seemed to have distracted Grey from portals.  Mistral shook her head and said, "I am afraid I do not know how to grow coffee, except that it requires soil, water, sunlight and time to grow, as all plants do.  I am sure there are books and writings on coffee farming that could be researched."  She glanced back toward the ship and said, "Monsieur Prometheus is versed in the arcanum of Life, and perhaps might offer tutelage if asked nicely."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:28, Fri 03 Jan 2020.

 Grey pondered what Mistral had said to her, going over it in her head as she nodded. "Okay! But what do I trade with then?"

 She said nothing further on the concept of coffee, but you could tell the idea was still on her mind.

 Only now do you notice that you're dry despite standing in a rainstorm. You were soaked earlier, but you're now dry and not getting wet despite the downpour.

Parenting a miniature demi-goddess was not going to be easy, Mistral was beginning to surmise.  She considered the question and then answered, "Practical goods and services would be best, je pense.  You might offer to remove stones from fields, build roads, repair damages, or perhaps fabricate useful tools or structures."  Mistral then envisioned a humble coffee farmer asking for a new shed behind his cottage and receiving a gleaming neon green skyscraper climbing a hundred stories above the rural Colombian countryside.  She added with a note of unease, "If you offer such services in trade, however, I would ask that you first consult Noah or I.  D'accord?"

Mistral glanced up at the sheeting rain, which she'd only just noticed no longer affected her.  She didn't see it being deflected by any sort of mystical umbrella, but rather it simply failed to reach her, somehow.  "That is quite the talent, ma fille.  What have you done with the rain that ought to fall upon us?  Does it go to the same place as the rest of the matière et énergie you consume?"

 Grey seemed a touch disappointed when Mistral said she should ask her or Noah before providing goods or services to trade. Her voice carried it too. "Okay...."

 Her eyes were downcast for a moment before she returned to her normal cheerful self when asked about the rain. "I'm using Electrolysis and turning the rain water and salt in the air into energy. We ran out of cookies in the coffee shop."

Mistral couldn't help but smile a bit at Grey's melodramatic disappointment at being given a limitation.  Without even thinking she reached a hand up to pet the elfin girl's hair, or the facsimile of hair.  She said with an attempt at reassurance, "We must take care in sharing our supernatural capacités around people, ma fille.  Many would not understand, and when too many fail to understand, bad things can happen."  Mistral glanced out over the storm-wracked seas and added, "Out here away from the world, however, you can be as creative as you like."

Mistral nodded appreciatively, impressed that Grey was passively generating energy from rainwater.  When the elfin godling reported in her usual non-sequitur way that the cookies in the coffee shop had run out, Mistral considered.  She squinted, trying to remember something.  Bouncing Grey upon her arm Mistral asked, "Have we equipment et ingrédients for baking, mademoiselle?  Flour, eggs, sugar, vanille, salt, butter and so on?  I presume that baking sheets would be no trouble for you to fabricate."

 Grey rested her head against Mistral's shoulder as Mistral ran her fingers through her hair. Her hair was soft and silky, and warm to the touch, soaking up the chill from her fingers but she nodded enthusiastically when asked about supplies. "Yes! Scar took me shopping before he went to play pottery."

 Grey hopped down and immediately Mistral noted just how dry she had gotten when the rain once more made it to her clothing. Inside the shop, Mistral immediately noticed that the silo of coffee was almost empty.

 However, Grey opened a door into a pantry, fully stocked with the ingredients required to bake most things, in addition to chocolate, peanut butter and various fruits.

 Grey also pulled out baking sheets and waxed paper with a wide grin.

Mistral thought this suggestion ought to catch Grey’s interest, and indeed it had.  When Grey hopped down the water began to reach her again, and so she hurried to follow Grey to the interior of the ship.  As they passed the much-depleted coffee silo Mistral asked in passing, “What amount of cookies did you eat already, ma fille?  I hope you do not go through them as quickly as the coffee...”

They reached the pantry, which turned out to be stocked with a huge supply of baking ingredients and supplies.  Mistral looked over it all in wonderment and said, “Très bien.  We will make palmiers à la cannelle.  Cinnamon palmiers.  I used to bake these with my...”  A shadow passed over her face and she interrupted herself, “Let us just gather le ingrédients, shall we?”  She directed Grey to get out flour, salt, cold butter, cinnamon, granulated sugar, and a few other ingredients, along with rolling pins, wax paper and some mixing bowls and various other baking implements.  These were brought to the galley, which turned out to be equipped with an excessive total of twenty-four ovens in two double-stacked rows.

Both Mist and Grey donned matching neon green aprons and got to work.  Mistral guided Grey through the creation of puff-pastry dough, rolling it out and then folding it back over itself.  She was working from old memory, and she was pretty sure she was missing something.  The first attempt at the dough failed to set properly, until Mist recalled that it needs to be chilled.  The second attempt went better, and so they proceeded to roll out the dough into big, flat squares to be sprinkled with cinnamon sugar before rolling both ends to the center.  They cut the resulting cinnamony log into slices, which were dipped in bowls of cinnamon sugar and laid out on cookie sheets.  Mistral smiled a little watching Grey eagerly take to the pastry-making, reminding her of herself at a young age helping her father bake this very same recipe.  She remarked, “You are un chef naturel, Grey.  The ovens are pre-heated to 190° Celsius, oui?  Only the two ovens, for now.”  They slid the laden cookie sheets into the ovens and watched them as they baked, then turned them over halfway through.

Well over two hours after they’d begun they ended up with two dozen cinnamon-sugary pastry twirls that were flaky and sweet, but perhaps baked a little too crispy.  Mistral crunched into one and frowned with disappointment, “They did not turn out right.  I was never much the boulangère, but c'est la vie.  What do you think?”

---

Failed first crafts attempt, but second time’s the charm!:

• 03:08, Today: Mistral rolled 1 success using 3d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 8,3,2.  Int + Crafts 2.
• 03:06, Today: Mistral failed (no successes) using 3d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 4,7,2.  Int + Crafts.

 "I only ate twenty cokies today. They're a lot harder to get than coffee. But I got a lot of supplies instead when I traded a diamond."

 She stretched out her arms to about a foot in diameter.

 When the cooking began, Grey managed to get herself coated in flour and sugar while cooking, with small clumps of cookie dough in her hair. When the first batch of cookies failed to rise, she ate the botched result anyway while the two of you tried to make better ones.

 When the second batch were finished, she munched happily on one like a tiny elfin squirrel, grinning like mad the whole time. Though Mistral had managed to stay relatively clean during the process, Grey and the kitchen were not so fortunate and the little elfin godling looked as though she had been rolled in the pastry dough herself.

Mistral winced a little when Grey described the giant diamond she had traded, which must have been thousands of carats and worth billions in a pre-Grey economy.  She said, “Hmm, mademoiselle...  The problem with the creation of gold also applies to diamonds, and perhaps more so.  Laboratory-fabricated diamonds have existed for a very long time, but it will still be the case that they will lose value the more are fabricated.”

Grey was quite enthusiastic in the kitchen, and threw herself into the baking process, oftentimes in a very literal sense.  Mistral took the silvery child by a slim arm to gently dissuade her from standing and crawling around on the preparation table.  With a smirk she said, “We do not climb upon our preparation surface when cooking, ma fille.  It is unsanitary, for...  Hrm.  Does your body collect dirt and bacteria of the surfaces you touch, or do you consume these for energy as well?  Perhaps you shall be the most sanitary chef in existence, if so.”  The usual rules for human conduct often didn’t quite apply to Grey in the same ways, and Mistral found it difficult to argue with her eating an entire tray of botched cookies.  After all, it’s not as if she’d get fat from breaking down the cookies into pure atomic energy!

In the end, Mistral wiped the scattered sugar and flour off Grey with a towel as the little godling nibbled on a cinnamon Palmier.  As she worked she remarked, “It is evident that you were excited by this activity, judging by the fact that you now wear the ingredients.”  Looking over the flour-dusted catastrophe in the galley, Mist asked, “How do you mean to clean this kitchen?  Are you able to absorb all the excess ingredients scattered about?”

“How does it taste?  Ought we to offer these to the rest of the crew?”

 When Mistral chided Grey about the diamond, she sounded almost indignant. "But I found that one! It was in the dirt I dug up!"

 Her tone quickly reverted to cheerful. "I found a bunch of other stuff too and I put it in Noah's hoard."


 When asked about absorbing germs and dirt. "Yes! Though I usually don't eat the dirt. It's like rocks and sand and takes more energy to process than I get out of it. Usually, I just push it out the bottoms of my feet."

 She held up her tiny feet and wiggled her toes (which were immaculately clean, despite the mess of baking ingredients everywhere). When asked about the baking, Grey gave a huge grin and hugged Mistral around the neck. "Yes! I've never done anything like that before. Can we do it again sometime? Please?"

 As she was talking, the mess simply melted away, leaving a surface so clean that, if she hadn't used it herself, she could have sworn that it had never been used at all.

 She then lifted one of the trays of cookies (leaving another for Mistral to take with her). "Yummy! Do you think my brothers and sisters will like them?"

Mistral tilted her head at the news Grey had found the diamond, which would be extraordinary.  “Vraiment?  Which dirt was this?  And what did you trade the stone for, in total?”  Something told her that the silver elf-child had perhaps not gotten the most bang for her buck in trading away what might be the biggest naturally-formed diamond ever discovered on Earth.

Grey’s enthusiasm and unexpected flying leap-hug took Mistral by surprise, but she hugged her back, fighting back a smile that threatened to spread across her face, despite herself.  “Of course we may do this again, if you wish and as time permits.  I enjoyed it as well, as unexpected an activity as it was.  I am afraid I do not know very many more recipes, however.  This one I knew from childhood...”  Mistral looked away and cleared her throat, but what Grey said next got her attention back.

Mistral turned Grey an inquisitive look and asked, “Brothers and sisters...?  The ones we spotted outside the Porte in the Aether?”

 "In a volcano. Father and I used to go volcano diving all the time before he got busy. Do you think we could go together some time?

 I traded it to a man who was leaving the city for the storm. He said I could have whatever I could carry out... so I got all of his baking goods. I also got the tables, chairs, and the blueprints for all the pastries and gear inside. So we can try other pastries now too!"

 When asked about the synths in the Aether, Grey shook her head. "Nuh-uh. Those are synths. Advanced synths, but still synths. My brothers and sisters are down in the hold with Sal!"

“Volcano-diving sounds... amusant, but I am afraid the molten rock et fumées tend to be rather deadly to mortal bodies.  As fascinante as such an expedition must surely be, I do not think I am equipped to enjoy it.”

Mistral couldn’t help but put a hand to her temple to hear that Grey had traded a diamond the size of a human head for groceries and used furniture.  She let out a sigh and a dry chuckle before saying in a measured tone, “Ma fille, if you find more natural gemstones, also please consult Noah or I before trading them.  With that diamond you might have purchased not only all of the coffee in Colombia, but the entire country itself.”  She rubbed a hand in the elfin godling’s hair with affection and said, “You did find très bonne épicerie, however.  We shall need to look up recipes and bake again soon.”

Mistral nodded at the clarification about which siblings Grey meant, then looked to the baking sheets.  The second batch had been two dozen and both she and Grey had taken one each, and there were thirty children.  Mistral nodded, but cautioned, “Perhaps your siblings would enjoy les palmiers, but we haven’t baked enough for all.  Now that you’ve seen how they are made might you multiply them, or shall we bake more?”

Whether now or after another baking session, Mistral accompanied Grey down to the hold to deliver the cookies to Talion’s children.

 Once again, Grey seemed somewhat disappointed (at both the news she should consult Noah or Mistral before trading away valuables and that Mistral couldn't go swimming in molten rock with her). "Okay..."

 However, she perked up once more as they made their way back into the hold of the ship.

OOC: Note that there are only 20 children on the ship, the MIB didn't portal the ones they'd saved to the boat.

---> To Daycare.