World Tree MUSH

    "Do you like coffee? I like coffee. You look like you could use a coffee. Let's go get some coffee."
    This sudden barrage comes not too long after dealing with Lutsen's Wendigo problem, and roughly about an hour after dropping the man-eating cryptid finds Morrigan in a small coffee joint in the nearby township. It's quiet right now; though the place is a well known summer and ski resort, it's... Kind of slow at the moment.
    Probably due to the seven weeks of people going missing and dying.
    Nevertheless, the Warlock is seated by a window, her shinki Familiar perched on her shoulder as she pours a healty dose of milk and sugar into the coffee waiting in front of her and stirs it all in lazily.

"...I like coffee," was the answer. Neviah sounded less certain about it than she usually does. She's still a bit overwhelmed.

Tourist season is never helped by murderous howling demons from hell, which in this case suits Professor Younger fine. She doesn't want a huge crowd around right now, when she's got so much to process. Nevertheless she's got a steaming cup of coffee in front of her, which she's laced with a couple packets of artificial sweetener - more for the novelty than out of any sense of health. They don't have sucralose in Victorian England, as far as she remembers.

The cream is left behind. Neviah could use a black coffee right now.

She's silent at first, looking out the window at the town beyond - but not really seeing it beyond the haze of thoughts and worries nibbling at her consciousness. Eventually, though, she re-centers herself with a sigh and looks back, an apologetic air to her expression. The edges of a wan smile appear. "I'm sorry if I'm not that engaging right now... everything was a bit of a shock, truthfully."

    It's a small town, and it's quiet. Really quiet considering everything that's happened. But with the crisis now officially over the people will move on and Lutsen will return to its former resort glory. For now though, Morrigan takes a moment to help herself to a slow sip of her coffee while Mary uncrews the cap on a coffee-flavored jelly can and starts to sip on that as well.
    "To be entirely fair." The Warlock begins. "You kind of helped take down a man eating cryptid that nominally doesn't exist." She says matter of factly.
    "I think that would be a lot for anyone to process. That was one hell of a shot, by the way." Oh no she doesn't bring up that she had shown Neviah horrible glimpses of What Might Be for it to have happened. Nope.

Neviah smiles weakly as she curls her fingers around her cup. She sits up a bit straighter as she tries to shoulder past at least some of the shock. "I've learned that a lot of things that should not exist actually do. Especially with the way the Tree tends to grow. Things cross the Vines and get to places you might not expect...."

She trails off and looks down at the coffee briefly before clearing her throat. "...I wanted to ask you about that," she says hesitantly.

Lifting her gaze, she bites her lip a moment. "...There was another presence, when you cast that spell. What... what was that...? I've never experienced anything like it."

    Sssssssluuuuuurrrrrrrp.
    Morrigan takes a long, slow, sip of her coffee at first, eldritch green eyes locked rather intently on the professor as she speaks, before lowering her mug.
    "Well. About that. There are plenty of things that should not exist but totally do. That Wendigo's a good example. And then there are people like myself and Mary-" The shinki raises her hand helpfully, "And Ms. Dunwich, among others, who specialize in such things that should not be. And how to deal with them." She says a little too brightly.
    "There are occupational hazards of course; crippling, maiming, violent death, complete disappearance, etcetera and so forth... But oh that..."
    Oh boy how does Morrigan answer this one?
    She pauses by taking a pointed sip of her coffee- before motioning for the local coffee joint worker for a refill because she drained that thing fast.
    "That was my boss."

Neviah does not /slurp./ She is a proper lady, thank you!

Pale green eyes follow Morrigan as the woman explains, though they divert to the little shinki when she's referenced. The glance is brief. It's not lost on her that the other woman is trying to dance around giving her a straight answer. She's interviewed more than enough evasive people to recognize some of the tricks.

"Fortunately none of us were maimed or disappeared," she murmurs with a dip of long lashes before half-concealing her expression behind the lip of her cup, in part to take a sip, in part to give her a few seconds to push back her earlier confusion and replace it with studious curiosity. There's something here she needs to know, after all.

    'That was my boss.'

"Your boss?" she echoes with a cant of her head and a small frown.

"Are you a divine caster?" she asks, eyebrows coming up shallowly. "There are certainly some casters from the world I originate who draw their power from a divine source."

    'Are you a divine caster?'
    Now that's a question right there, and the Warlock purses her lips briefly before they split into an awkward, sharp-toothed grin.
    "Nnnnno?"
    It's an honest answer even if it is awkward.
    "Definitely not divine. But niether Infernal nor Abyssal either." she does point out. "It's more from... Another place entirely. I'm not like some Cleric or Paladin who answers to a God and gallivant off heroically to do their holy business. I'm more like ah, uh... I'm more like an agent sent by OSHA so make sure everything is up to standards and compliance."

That is a distressingly sharp smile. Neviah opens her mouth slightly, then closes it with a pensive frown.

    'I'm not like some Cleric or Paladin who answers to a God'

Neviah's shoulders sag subtly. "There aren't many of those, considering that the gods where I'm from have all been forgotten," she murmurs, glancing away.

Soon enough, she's looking up again, nodding with a quiet understanding. It's clear enough: In the absence of the forgotten gods, this woman found something else, something that doesn't work on the same paradigms that standard magic does for those from the lost world. "From another plane of existence, then," she surmises. "Neither holy nor unholy, but eldritch and unknowable. Interesting. I have heard of entities like this."

Lovecraft is seven years old in Neviah's Earth. Unfortunately for the Tree, beings like the Elder Gods aren't confined to one racist's imagination. She swirls her coffee slowly, crossing her ankles as she leans forward a little. "...You're from the, ah, the same origin as I am, aren't you? I can see some of the signs in you... the world largely grown into the Tree by now."

    Morrigan pauses for a moment. Long enough for the server to refill her coffee- a coffee that the once more loads with sugar and cream, slowly stirring away as she lets Neviah put the pieces together.
    But then the half-elf's grin widens.
    "If we're thinking the same world. Yes. My home has become so deeply intertwined with the tree that it can't be called much of an 'individual' world anymore."
    Sip.
    "Mm. But yes. I found something Else to grant me the power I needed." She replies honestly. "It took me decades of study, research. After all, when all the gods are forgotten and asleep where else was I to look, after all?" She says.
    "Sure, I get the occasional nosebleed and crippling migraine, but that's a minor price to pay in the grander scheme of things. All I have to do is wander the Tree and be a goody two-shoes hero as a living. That was the funniest order I have ever gotten in all my years, but if it gets me what I want, I don't mind being an adventurer."

"Yes, there's always the challenge of finding a way to name it," Neviah concedes with a sad smile as she lowers her coffee. It settles back to the little tray with a muted click.

The half-elf's grin is sufficiently unsettling that Neviah's not quite sure what to make of her. She tilts her head to the side, listening to the other woman explain her research. The smile fades. She knows /that/ struggle all to well.

Not the migraines. That's different.

"I cannot say I understand the experience of chasing around the Tree being a hero. But I know the feeling of being unable to find a sleeper." She flicks a coil of hair back from her cheek. "I have been studying what is left of our world for some time now. I work for the University of Cambridge, in the United Kingdom." The accent's a giveaway here - the typical lilt of high English, not overwhelming, but enough to make her stand out in the modern US. "Where did you ultimately find the spirit you follow now? I have talked to other casters of our origins, and they've found it is not always easy to find a divine source. Not all divine beings work the same way as our kind of magic requires."

Neviah found /that/ out when she tried asking God. The Anglican Church disapproved.

    "It's pretty weird if you ask me." Morrigan muses. "I reach out- get what I ask for- and the only thing I'm asked for in return is to bring balance and order to the worlds around me. But hey, this way even with all the funny looks I get, I'm still going around being more helpful than harmful, am I right?" She asks, spreading her hands.
    Mary mimics the motion, spreading her own hands, helpfully.
    "It took me about twenty five years, and ultimately? I found everything I was looking for in my father's own personal library." That- that brings a scowl to her face, but it flashes by as quickly as it appears and then vanishes. "Believe me I had to tear through the pages of some pretty gnarly old tomes to find what I needed, I thought I'd die of old age before I remembered I have two lifetimes to work with. Hah."
    Sigh. Half-Elves.
    "Oh, Cambridge, very prestigious. I was more home-schooled. But my parents were both very capable wizards of great study, so."
    So she's not just some dumb hick running around with massive eldritch power.

"And in return, you receive... whatever it was that I experienced when you touched me," Neviah presumes with a dip of her chin and a thoughtful frown. "Interesting."

The frown reverses to mild mirth at the sight of Mary miming Morrigan's movement's, but she's soon looking back up to the half-elf - in time to spot the scowl. She nods, shifting to cross one long leg over the opposite. "Old books like that can be frustrating. I've looked through more than my share. You have a singular determination."

One she appreciates. Her view of the other woman warms a little more.

"My mother was a cleric," she explains. "I learned some of that art from her. It is not easy to be a healer without an active patron, mind you. The world I grew up in had no real magical connection. Certainly Christianity takes a dim view on magic - receiving divine energies from God Himself is quite out of the question. But I have been making a study of what remains of our origins."

She taps the notebook lying on the table beside her. "I wonder if you found anything about the gods of our own origin. It is a key thing I am trying to piece together, but they're quite elusive."

    "Foresight." Morrigan says. "That was the gift of Foresight. One of several benefits I might say."
    A slow sip on her coffee and the witch chuckles. "My parents tried to teach me magic. It didn't take. Funny thing, for as good as I was at studying the concepts and the book learning, I had all the practical aptitude of a fish walking on dry land. It wasn't happening."
    "A cleric, huh?" She does muse. "I'd imagine that's-- yes." Difficult to say the least without a divine patron to work under. But then she shakes her head.
    "In all the books in the forbidden section of that dusty old library I learned much. Demons, Devils, things that reside in the dark corners of the earth, but if there was anything on angels and the old gods, I didn't find it. Probably because it wasn't what I was looking for at the time. Sorry."

"Ah! I recognize that spell." Neviah straightens, eyebrows arching quickly before settling again. "I've just not experienced it with such... intensity."

Her smile returns, though she's forcing it a little. "You seem to have surpassed the challenges with aptitude. I can imagine it must be an interesting experience to pact with such an... inscrutable entity as the one you found. It seems to perceive time and reality in ways I find difficult to put into words. Perhaps it is easier for you."

Or perhaps it drove her bonkers. One can never tell. Not yet.

As Morrigan shares her research, Neviah smiles, small and slightly sad. "You needn't apologize," she assures. "Most of that knowledge was lost a long time ago. My mother certainly knew nothing, and neither has anyone else I have asked. I think the truth lies only in what remnants of the world still exist. I have been tracking such places - old villages, ruins that have not yet been overgrown, that sort of thing."

    Sssssllluuurrrp.
    "Interesting. Yes. That's a way to put it. But no, it's not easier for me. I get the gnarliest headache every time my boss so much as pokes me on the shoulder to get my attention let alone when they open one of their bajillion eyes to make me see forever with."
    Might have driven her bonkers. Maybe. Possible.
    But then the Warlock snaps her fingers.
    "I'll tell you what." She says. "I've visted a bunch of old places from our mutual home. And sometimes come across some pretty weird findings when I do. I-- do you have a cellphone?"
    This is a very important question.
    "If you don't I highly suggest you get one. Mary, do the thing."
    The latter part of that statement is an order to her shinki, who quickly hops off her shoulder with a tiny salute, grabs a pencil, and uses it to start writing a number on a nearby napkin.
    It is Morrigan's phone number, yes.
    "You ever find a place that you need help researching, just dial me up. I'll call you back if I find anything that you might find interesting, too."

Brave assumption, that Neviah owns a phone.

With a faint smile, she takes the offered number and nods. "I picked one up in another part of the Tree, yes. I can only use it for calls, but...." She reaches into her bag and pulls it out.

Neviah's cellphone is the size of a small brick and has one of those little pull-out antennas on it. It's about as far from cutting-edge as you can get and it probably doesn't get Internet.

"I don't *think* it will charge for long-distance. There are Tree-roamer plans you can get." She's clearly a bit out of her depth talking about technical things like that, but there it goes. Setting the phone down, she jots a number of her own on a piece of notepad paper and slides it back in exchange. "Please do. That's my number. The one below it goes to my office at Cambridge, if you cannot reach me on the carry phone."

Neviah picks up her coffee for another sip, wincing slightly. "I can imagine the headaches, yes. Just a look into that kind of energy was very startling. Managing it often seems like it would be quite a strain."

    That... that is a brick.
    Morrigan stares at the brick-phone almost incredulously. But it IS a phone.
    "W-well." She says at first, opting to not pull out her sleek smartphone in the heat of the moment and just let Neviah have this.
    She exchanges a look with Mary. Mary shrugs helplessly.
    But when the Professor hands back her own number, Mary fires a quick salute at Neviah and quickly takes the number to memory, instantly.
    "Right, yes. A strain. Definitely."
    Ssssssssllluuurp.