2024.10.23.24:No Strings Attached/Text

        Tyler sat hunched over a small, worn wooden table in the dimly lit basement of Roaster's Coffee House. The air was heavy with the scent of old paper and the faint aroma of freshly brewed espresso wafting down from the bustling café above. Before him lay a growing pile of old, yellowed tomes, leather-bound grimoires, and cracked journals, each dealing with some facet of witchcraft, spells, or ancient magic. Some were written in languages he couldn't quite decipher, others in familiar texts that felt more like puzzle boxes than readable books. The table itself was strewn with notes, sketches, diagrams hastily scribbled on scraps of paper, post-its, and the occasional notebook. Tyler's pen scratched furiously as he made annotations and cross-referenced different sources.

        He absentmindedly flipped through a book titled /The Witch's Path/, his finger tracing an intricate diagram of a protection sigil as he muttered the words beneath his breath. Behind him, shelves groaned with the weight of countless forgotten volumes, each one whispering stories of occult knowledge and arcane rituals.The quiet murmur of the café above felt miles away as Tyler continued to dig, his curiosity driving him deeper into the rabbit hole. He could sense that he was onto something - a thread that connected these texts, something elusive, maybe even dangerous, that someone had tried to bury beneath the ink and paper.

Such intense focus tends to leave one ignorant to their surroundings, as it turns out. At this hour, it wasn't likely that the basement would be receiving many visitors... At least, many 'more'. So it may have been peculiar, the way that lyra glides down the stairwell with soundless steps. Like some ill wind blowing in from the sea, heralding a coming storm. Well, the storm was here now. An impossibly beautiful face, a perfect body, and poison dripping from every curve... Something about the purity of her beauty is sickening. Perhaps it's too pure? Perhaps it's too alien? Whatever the case, this woman brings with her a faint note of wrongness. The kind of discomfort that can cause one to feel sick.

She takes note of Tyler quite quickly. Silent, though, as she steps with that same breeze-like grace around the table to achieve the opposite side. Only when she's there does she- rather the chair- make a sound. The chair grinds against the floor as she pulls it back, and slips into it with a soft sigh. The witch has a drink with her tonight... A caramocha from the looks of it, loaded down with sugars and espresso beyond what it shows on the menu. Someone has a sweet tooth! But, more importantly, someone has an interest in the other person in the room.

"Hard at work I see." Her voice, accented lightly Welsh, comes. "Are those books from this room? Or did you bring them from home for a more... Peaceful place to study?" Her eyes flit towards the ghosts nearby... She can see them but that's nothing new. She makes no comment on their presence just yet, instead watching Tyler.

"It's admirable to see someone so studious. They're rare, these days."

Tyler, startled by Lyra's sudden appearance, exhaled sharply but managed to keep his composure, though his hand instinctively gripped the edge of the table. He hadn't even heard her come in - no small feat, considering how tense he had been lately. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, still a bit on edge from recent events, and he offered her a tired smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

        "Yeah, you could say that," he replied, voice a little strained. "The books? They're from here... thought I'd tap into the place's atmosphere." He motioned to the dusty, aged tomes scattered around him, each detailing some esoteric aspect of witchcraft or ancient protective rites. "Besides, it's quieter down here, less? distracting."

        His fingers drummed nervously on the table for a moment, his thoughts wandering to the ghostly figures that lingered at the edge of his awareness - Sam, Kat, and the thief. He knew Lyra could see them too, even if she didn't mention it. Her gaze had flickered briefly in their direction.He hesitated, not really wanting to dive into what had been bothering him, but the weight of it pressed on him like a stone. Finally, he admitted, "Something's been... off. Twice now, when I tried channeling, something else tried to come through. Not the usual... it was darker. Malicious." His voice dropped lower, almost conspiratorial, as if speaking of it too loudly might summon the very thing he feared. "I'm not sure what it was, but I'm trying to find a way to block it, or at least protect myself from it. That's what all this is for." He gestured to the pile of books, his finger tracing the edge of a page with a symbol he didn't yet fully understand.

        "Anyway," he said with a forced chuckle, trying to shake off the dark cloud that hung over him, "I figured some good old-fashioned spellcraft might help. Got anything in your repertoire that might keep an angry spirit at bay?"

The rapidity with which they move to the esoteric conversation doesn't seem to catch Lyra too off guard. As a matter of fact, she simply leans forward, smiling sweetly as she does. Eventually, her chin comes to rest on tented fingers, her elbows supporting herself upon the table. She nods along with his words as he describes his issue, humming a thoughtful hum as she considers something...

"I had my own malevolent spirit once." She finally starts, "It's name was Lillith. A vile thing... A specter, if memory serves. It was long ago at this point, back when my spark was still unstruck. I could tell you how I dealt with it then, but I'm not certain of what good that would do you. No... What you need is material that deals with summoning, binding, and warding. Primarily Warding in your case... Perhaps Enchantment wouldn't hurt, if you were also willing to learn how to do body art." She's musing alittle, but absolutely getting to a point.

"You can create selective wards upon your own body. Allow through what you wish to allow through, but deny any other intruder. If you have need of something urgently, then I can potentially provide you something of that sort... Free of charge." She cants her head...

"But I get the impression you'd rather handle it yourself, if those books are any indication." %R Tyler rubbed a hand across his tired face, the exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes and the subtle tremor in his fingers. He hadn't slept properly in two days, haunted more by the memory of his encounters than by any of the actual ghosts lingering around him. Lyra's calm, collected demeanor was both comforting and disconcerting, her mention of her own run-in with a specter striking a chord. There was a bitter sort of camaraderie in knowing she'd dealt with something similar.

        He listened intently as she spoke about wards and enchantments, nodding slowly, trying to process through the fog of fatigue. The idea of warding himself against intrusions sounded like exactly what he needed-something to control what came through, and more importantly, what didn't. "That? actually makes a lot of sense," he said, his voice rough from lack of sleep and tension. "Warding myself, setting boundaries. I hadn't thought of body art-been mostly focused on, you know, external solutions. Sigils, charms, spells? but if I could put something on myself that filters what comes through-" He trailed off, eyes flicking toward the books scattered around him, suddenly feeling like they might not hold all the answers he was looking for.

        Tyler leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, his mind racing despite the exhaustion pulling at him. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted to take you up on that offer." A slight, tired smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "But yeah, you're right. I'd rather handle it myself. At least, I want to try." He gestured toward the books again, though there was a sense of weariness in the motion. "I need to understand it, you know? Not just patch it up for now, but figure out how to keep this from happening again." 

        He sighed, the weight of the past two days pressing down on him. "But if I can't figure this out soon..." His voice softened, trailing off. "I might need that ward, just to sleep again." Tyler's eyes met hers, a mixture of gratitude and desperation. "You've dealt with this sort of thing before. What's your advice? How do you? keep going when something like this gets under your skin?"

Lyra watches him patiently as he goes through the motions and speaks. She doesn't move much besides the following movements of her eyes... It's very serpentine, in a way. But when the question comes about how she dealt with it? That's when her posture changes. That's when she leans back in her seat, pressing her back to the back of the chair and slightly pushing th ething off the ground as she stretches back towards the ceiling.

"...That's difficult." She admits, "Lillith was a very, very aggressive spirit. You see, her goal was to drive me to suicide. She would do everything at her disposal to make me doubt my reality. Doubt those I cared about. Feel unsafe in my own home. She even tried to kill me on several occasions, when her patience began to run thin... But what did I do to keep going? What did I do..." Her voice goes off down the trail as she once again dons her thinking cap. It's for several moments that she thinks, until her voice starts anew... Markedly sobered.

"It was my ex-wife, I think." She quietly says, "She knew the art of warding. Not only did she keep Lillith away from me in our own home, but she was also there to support me emotionally even when I was at my worst. I know I can't in good conscience suggest that you simply find someone and get married, but that just might be what helped 'me." She leans forward again, resting her chin on tented fingers once more as she regards him anew.

"It's the people you surround yourself with. Good people. You need those in your life, or else there's no telling where you might end up. Do you have anybody like that in your life, Tyler? An anchor to keep you together? Or are you going it all cold and alone?"

Tyler sat there, listening intently to Lyra's words, each one hitting him harder than the last. The way she spoke about Lillith, how the spirit had tried to break her, to push her over the edge? it resonated too closely with his own fears. His brush with that malicious spirit hadn't been as vicious, but the sense of something gnawing at the edges of his sanity was all too familiar. His grip on the edge of the table tightened, knuckles turning white, as she spoke of her ex-wife and the emotional support that had kept her grounded.

        When Lyra leaned forward, resting her chin on her fingers and asking about the people in his life, Tyler froze for a moment. The question lingered in the air, heavy with an implication he hadn't wanted to face.

        "I?" he started, his voice quieter now, rougher, like it was coming from somewhere deeper. He hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "I've got people, yeah." He glanced off to the side, the presence of his ghostly companions a constant reminder of that fact. Sam, Kat, and the thief were always there, watching, supporting in their own ways. But it wasn't the same as having someone truly alive, flesh and blood, grounding him in the present.

        "But it's different, you know?" he continued, his tone wavering slightly. "The ones who're closest to me? they're not really here in the same way. I mean...there was a guy...once, but after things changed we just kinda died." He laughed a little, though it was hollow, and rubbed his face again, the exhaustion creeping back into his features. "I'm trying to figure it out. How to stay grounded, how to keep going? but yeah, lately it's felt like I'm going at it alone." Tyler leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply. "I don't want to go cold and alone, though," he admitted softly. "That's why I'm here, trying to find answers. But finding good people-that's easier said than done, isn't it?" He glanced at her, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"My wife and I... We died after things changed too." Lyra says quietly, her expression growing distant and pained. "I realized things about myself that were incompatible with her, and there were things about her that she could never change- and I couldn't handle that. So? Things changed. I had to leave, she stayed right where she was. I know how hard that can be... I'm sorry you had to deal with that because of your circumstances." She glances at the ghosts again, not quite quesitoning about them just yet. Her eyes come back to the place at hand, and she collects herself, smirking back at him with a subtle nod.

"Very difficult." She agrees, "All but impossible. Every person has something they want out of you, whether they admit it or not. Myself included! Right now, all I want is my curiosity sated... And you've given me that much. So in exchange, I have an offer to give you." She pauses for a moment, lifting one of her hands to her neck... The choker there, black and featureless, suddenly starts to move. Sinuous and snakelike, it reveals itself to be just that. A snake, uncoiling from the witches neck and wrapping itself around her fingertips, flitting its tongue to sample the coffee scented air.

"This is Athiss." She says, "She is my familiar. She can converse as well, but she may not be willing to just yet. I could feel her getting restless." With the explanation given, the witch turns her attention to the serpent as she speaks toward Tyler.

"I can be your friend. Better, I can be a mentor of sorts... A benefactor, perhaps. I have books upon books. In ever language you can think of, I'm sure. I can provide these books to you, free of charge... And I can even show you how to use what the books contain if the content happens to be too difficult for you to grasp. How does that sound?"

"My wife and I... We died after things changed too." Lyra says quietly, her expression growing distant and pained. "I realized things about myself that were incompatible with her, and there were things about her that she could never change- and I couldn't handle that. So? Things changed. I had to leave, she stayed right where she was. I know how hard that can be... I'm sorry you had to deal with that because of your circumstances." She glances at the ghosts again, not quite quesitoning about them just yet. Her eyes come back to the place at hand, and she collects herself, smirking back at him with a subtle nod.

"Very difficult." She agrees, "All but impossible. Every person has something they want out of you, whether they admit it or not. Myself included! Right now, all I want is my curiosity sated... And you've given me that much. So in exchange, I have an offer to give you." She pauses for a moment, lifting one of her hands to her neck... The choker there, black and featureless, suddenly starts to move. Sinuous and snakelike, it reveals itself to be just that. A snake, uncoiling from the witches neck and wrapping itself around her fingertips, flitting its tongue to sample the coffee scented air.

"This is Athiss." She says, "She is my familiar. She can converse as well, but she may not be willing to just yet. I could feel her getting restless." With the explanation given, the witch turns her attention to the serpent as she speaks toward Tyler.

"I can be your friend. Better, I can be a mentor of sorts... A benefactor, perhaps. I have books upon books. In ever language you can think of, I'm sure. I can provide these books to you, free of charge... And I can even show you how to use what the books contain if the content happens to be too difficult for you to grasp. How does that sound?"

As Tyler reaches out with his subtle telepathic touch, he notices something that should not be. The thing that he comes in contact with is certainly a mind... But it seems to be entirely encased in a thick plate of armor. Like akin to the mind shields of a psychic, but far, far stronger. There is no breaking through that shell... Not at his current level of ability.

It's not a harrowing experience, being rebuffed. But the mere act of being rebuffed may be harrowing in and of itself.

Lyra regards him with cold logic. She neither grins, nor frowns at his questions, keeping her expression neutral. "I want for nothing in return." Lyra says matter of factly, "I have a vested interest in seeing the sorcerers of this city empowered, just as I have an interest in the same for its witches. I offer what I do out of the serenity of my heart, and nothing more... I know it might be hard to believe, given my particular aura, but I can swear to you that my reasons are so very simple." The snake coils between her fingertips... And stares at Tyler for a moment, before beginning to travel up the length of Lyra's arm. It's quite a long snake for its species... About two and a half feet.

"But you're right to be skeptical. I don't blame you. Witches aren't meant to be taken at face value, and rare indeed is the witch willing to part with her knowledge. But I am sincere. This much I can promise."

The sensation of being rebuffed was? unsettling. Tyler had reached out with his mind countless times before, but this was different. The mind he touched was shielded in a way that felt impenetrable-solid, like a fortress built to withstand the strongest assault. He recoiled slightly, not from fear, but from the sheer force of realization that whoever Lyra was, she was far beyond anything he had dealt with before. His expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of something crossing his features before he pulled himself back together.

        He shifted in his seat, trying to process her response. Lyra's neutral tone, the calm precision of her words, was both reassuring and eerie. She spoke like someone who knew exactly what they wanted but didn't need to reveal it. The mention of empowering sorcerers and witches felt genuine, but Tyler couldn't help the prickle of doubt that lingered at the edges of his thoughts. "Maybe I'm just wired to expect a catch," Tyler admitted, his voice quieter now, reflecting the internal conflict. "But... the idea of trust doesn't come easy. Not when you've had things crawl out of the shadows and try to eat you from the inside."

        He rubbed his temple, his exhaustion catching up with him. "I appreciate the offer, really. But if I'm going to do this-learn, grow-I need to know it's not going to turn me into something I won't recognize." His gaze flicked back to the snake coiling up her arm, then back to her. "You can understand that, right? The need to keep control of who you are, even when you're dipping into powers that could? change you."

        Tyler leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "If your offer is sincere, I won't refuse help. But I need to know the path I'm walking down isn't going to come with more strings than I can see right now." It wasn't exactly a yes, but it wasn't a no either. It was Tyler giving her an opening, cautious but open to possibilities. In the back of his mind, though, the memory of that armored mental barrier stayed with him, a reminder of just how careful he needed to be. Witches are completely different folk.

"There is no way that I can prove anything to you, I'm afraid." Lyra replies, staring at the snake rather than at Tyler. The serpent ahd now begun to craewl back up her arm, circling around as it makes her way back to her fingertips. Is it... Smiling? It might be playing right now. "But you're right to expect a catch, my dear. I'm not known to be particularly 'good', but then, there needs to be alittle bit of bad on Our side to deal with what needs dealt with. There are forces arrayed against this cities Willworkers that I cannot begin to describe to you... And it is on the frontline of that battle that I squarely sit. Every opportunity that I have, my dear, to empower our people? That is an opportunity worth indulging. Not to indulge it would be foolish." She leans back in her seat, lowering her hand to the table to allow the serpent to slither off of her hand and onto the table, where it coils up and rises to about a foot high, staring at Tyler with that particular kind of serpentine impassivity.

"You're smart! It's good to be smart. I like that. But you've also got a problem! You're not finding anything in all those dusty books, so why not let Miss Lyra help? She's 'real' smart too." The serpent talks without the lips to do so, but it's voice audibly fills the room. It sounds... Young. Innocent, in a way. It even boucnes alittle bit with its syllables as it speaks, as if the words were music.

"See? There's her words. Good snake, Athiss." Lyra says.

"Ha! I'm a good snake!"

"Yeeees yes, you are. Now kindly hush for the moment while we talk?"

"Fiiiine fine. But you owe me a mouse."

"Fine. A mouse you will have."

The snake bounces once, in what can only be described as a 'yesssss' fist pump... But from a snake. The witch then looks back towards Tyler, letting out a soft sigh between a gentle smile.

"She's like that, I'm afraid. But how about this... You accept one singular book. If that book helps you, then you come to me when you need to learn something new. My magick may be a far cry from yours, but I practiced it's type once. My old material will surely be of help to you."

Tyler blinked in quiet astonishment as the snake, Athiss, spoke. It wasn't every day that a serpent shared its thoughts-especially one with such an unexpectedly playful and innocent voice. In any other circumstance, he might have been unnerved, but after the days he'd had, the surreal nature of it all almost felt? normal. Still, the undercurrent of what Lyra was offering remained in his mind, heavy and serious, even with the strange banter between witch and familiar.

        He glanced at the stack of books he had been poring over for hours, feeling the weight of their uselessness pressing down on him. So much information, yet none of it getting him any closer to solving his problem. His fingertips brushed the leather spine of one of the texts, but he knew she was right-he wasn't finding what he needed here. Lyra's offer hung in the air, tempting and dangerous. She was being honest, at least-there was always a catch, and she didn't hide that. But she also didn't seem to want anything more from him than the promise that if her help worked, he'd come back when he needed more. It wasn't trust yet, but maybe it was a step.

        Tyler sat back in his chair, his eyes meeting Lyra's across the table. "Alright," he said, voice steady despite the uncertainty still gnawing at him. "One book. No strings, no promises beyond that. If it helps, I'll consider coming to you again. But I'll handle it on my terms." His gaze flickered briefly to Athiss, who still seemed to be quietly celebrating her forthcoming mouse. He smirked faintly before turning his focus back to Lyra. "I'm not naive," Tyler added, the exhaustion sharpening his words a little more than intended. "I know power comes with risk. But I've seen what happens when you don't have enough of it to protect yourself." His tone grew quieter, the weight of the past few days evident. "I just need enough to stop something like /that/ from happening again."

        His eyes focus on the snake and how it seems to both rely and trust Lyra and the young bookish student turns his gaze up to her, "Can you show me how to summon a familar sometime?"

Vivian slips down into the basement with her phone in her right hand, casually scrolling through -something- with a stylus held in her left hand. As she reaches the bottom she glances up and.. well.. thre's Lyra. She halts in place for a moment, frozen as she stares at the other woman with a jaw that hangs open for -just- a moment. She quickly gets herself back under control though and drifts over towards the two of them, smiling to Tyler as she offers him a wave. "Tyler, good to see you again." But she can't keep her eyes off of Lyra and she looks back to the Witch. "I'm Vivian..."

Lyra is in no rush. Tyler is allowed all of the time he needs to process... The witch focuses her attention on that European Adder, two and a half feet long, which sits upon the table playfully bouncing lightly this way and that... To silent music, from the sound of it. The witches fingertip moves towards it, and it playfully snaps the air. A game that they play for the few seconds that it takes Tyler to respond... She's smiling. Laughing alittle lightly, even. And when he finally replies in the affirmative, she looks up towards him with that same genuine smile. Playing with the snake, it seemed, had melted her demeanor just a touch.

"No strings at all my dear. You'll find it quite useful... I've just the one in mind, as a matter of fact. An old journal of my ancestor Gerald, who has a tendency to wirte... Very vividly. You'll need to sift through his stories to find the diagrams and information, but I can promise you that it's there." She's insistent on the matter, but it must certainly be obfuscatory if the witch is taking the time to mention it.

"As for a familiar... I don't believe that I can, unfortunately. It's an elevated art, I'm afraid. A witches art. I don't know that someone at your level of skill can accomplish the feat." She's honest at least, before Vivian makes herself known! She hadn't noticed her as she stood there slack-jawed... In fact she almost hadn't noticed her when she spoke! Something about the area around Vivian catches her attention for a moment, as she watches something skitter about... It's clear she SEES it, but she doesn't comment on it just now.

"Charmed to meet you Vivian! I'm Lyra Grey. Verbena elder, Gardener of the Tree, Grand Matriarch of the Circle of the Grey Moon based out of Chula Vista. Forgive the titles... They're only alittle imperative."

Tyler tensed slightly when he noticed Vivian's sudden appearance, the haze of exhaustion making him a little more on edge than usual. But Lyra's calm, almost playful demeanor had kept him somewhat grounded, and he allowed himself to relax as he heard Vivian speak up. He glanced toward her, sensing the faint tension between her and Lyra, but more curious than anything. Vivian's entrance felt sudden, as if she had appeared out of nowhere-much like the way Lyra's presence had initially caught him off guard. There was always something strange about the timing of his encounters with powerful people in this city, something that hinted at deeper currents beneath the surface of the mundane world.

        Still, as Lyra addressed Vivian, Tyler's thoughts began to refocus. The journal she had offered, her ancestor's book of spells, could be a lifeline-a tangible way to grasp control over the forces he had found himself at odds with. But something about the conversation now felt heavier with Vivian's arrival, like the stakes had subtly shifted. He glanced between them, curious as to how the dynamic would unfold. While he wasn't sure how Vivian fit into all this yet, Lyra's mention of seeing something "skitter about" in her direction hadn't gone unnoticed. Tyler couldn't help but wonder if there was more to Vivian than met the eye. He leaned back slightly, observing the two women with tired eyes, wondering where this was all leading. His own questions and worries about malevolent spirits, protection, and the city's undercurrents of magic still lingered in the back of his mind, but for now, he stayed silent, watching for the next move. 

        "Hello Vivian," he seems to remember his manners and turns to focus on the new arrival. "Sorry - just kind of out of it still and...was focused." The Bookish lad is -quite- interested in this book that Lyra mentioned...he'll examine every page, every mark...the binding, the covers... it will be an...(wait for it)...obsession.

Vivian snaps out of her stupor as she hears the words being exchanged. She glances between Tyler and Lyra at the mention of 'no strings,' taking a step closer to Tyler who she flashes a warm smile to. But then more words, some that she knows and others that she doens't. But enough words that Vivian turns back to Lyra and bows her head, hands folded in front of her.

        She immediately takes on the demeanor of a subordinate speaking to a superior, lifting her spoken register a bit and stranding straight-backed. "A pleasure to meet you Lady Grey." Her eye drift to the side for a moment, staring at air as she shrugs, before looking back to between Tyler and Lyra. "A familiar? Tyler, I suspect that I am more suited to teach you such a thing. We're more on.." she glances sidelong at Lyra and then back to Tyler, "each other's level. Tyler, when dealing with willworkers there is rarely anything such as no strings attached. What is going on here?" She glances back to Lyra but then down, unable or unwilling to meet the other woman's gaze for the moment.
        

Vivian's interjection between the two of them goes unanswered by Lyra, who instead focuses her attention back on the serpent on that table. Playing that game again... bringing her finger close to its face, only for it to try to snap at the digit ineffectually. The witch had good reflexes... Better than this snake's anyway. She does comment, though, her attention glued to that snake.

"Lady Grey! I fancy that. It's been a long time since someone's spoken to me 'that' way. I appreciate you, Miss Vivian... But what Tyler and I were discussing was actually business we've since concluded. I'll be giving him one of my old books, back from before my spark was lit. It's relevant to soemthing he's been dealing with, so I thought it would be wise to help him learn." She cants her head...

"Take no offense at my mention of 'level.' It was simply a candid way of mentioning the differences in our practices." She holds out her hand then for the snake, which slithers on up the length of her arm... Up her shoulder, around her neck, up her head, until it sits atop her skull like a coiled crown. Staring at the others in the room with a keen-eyed, mischievous silence. Lyra's eyes flit to the side again... Looking at those things which remain unseen. Each and all of them in one pass, as a matter of fact.

"It's gotten quite crowded in here, hasn't it? Quite the assembly."

Stomping, heavy steps warn of a new arrival. Heard before she's seen. Polished wing-tip shoes and pressed white dress pants are the first sight of the bulking Eden, who ducks down into the basement with all the grace of a semi-truck. Her top is wrapped in a sleeveless turtleneck in black, with a braided bracelet on her right wrist. The cheery, tanned giant peers around the assembly with a warm grin, and a meaty palm lifted, as she lumbers over to a spot to lean. There was no need to exchange words, for now. For now, at least.

        Tyler was suddenly overwhelmed by the unfolding scene, the energy in the room shifting as Vivian and then Eden made their entrances. His exhaustion tugged at him, urging him to zone out, but the tension between Lyra and Vivian kept him tethered to the present. The playful exchange between Lyra and her serpent only added to the surreality of the moment, making it clear that these women operated in a world of powers and practices far deeper than he'd yet touched. He glanced at Vivian as she took on a more formal tone, her words directed at him in a quiet but firm warning. Her shift in demeanor was startling-submissive, respectful even, toward Lyra. But her message to Tyler was crystal clear: /beware/. When Eden finally made her presence known, her heavy footsteps announcing her before she even entered, Tyler felt the room constrict even more. The towering figure's calm yet imposing stance seemed to radiate a silent authority, but there was warmth there, too, as if Eden could bring comfort if needed.

        But in the midst of all this, Tyler found himself focused back on Lyra's words. The snake now sat like a crown upon her head, its gaze sharp and eerily sentient. Lyra had already sensed the tension, calling out the growing crowd and the assembly of presences. Tyler sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to gather his thoughts. His gut told him to trust Lyra's offer, but Vivian's warning nagged at him. He was tired, maybe too tired to think clearly, but he wasn't ready to turn away from the potential knowledge that Lyra held. He needed solutions-real solutions-to deal with the growing dangers he was facing. Clearing his throat, Tyler spoke, directing his words to the room, but with his gaze mostly on Vivian. "I get it. No strings is... rare. But right now, I'm just trying to make sure I don't get caught with my guard down again." His voice was hoarse, the strain of the past days evident. "I don't have time to second-guess every offer when things are moving fast. If this book can help, I'll take the risk."

He pauses only a second before asking, "So when could I get this book?" It's like an addict looking for a fix almost - the visceral /need/ in his voice. Not that he's obsessed with such things mind you.

Vivian actually curtsies as Lyra says that she appreciates her. A proper curtsy, with head bowed though she doesn't over-exaggerate the depth of it. "A book, from before?" Her own eyes light up and she gazes at Lyra with obvious desire, thought not a desire for flesh. Her eyes close and she shakes off the curiosity though just barely. She tracks Lyra's gaze to the side, seeming to glance at each and every thing Lyra sees as well. "Huh."

        Vivian looks back to the witch with a knowing gaze before she shakes her head. "I take no offense Lady Grey. As you say, it is candid. We do exist on different levels. It is simply.. the way of things." Vivian, in her 30s, seems to have come to terms with that. She glances back at the sudden giantess and smiles warmly, offering her a wave before she glances back to Lyra and Tyler. "Again? What happened?" Her eyes close as she hears the tone of Tyler's question, she's heard that before. She's been there before. Her eyes open and she stares back at Lyra, studying the witch carefully before she nods her head.
        "Lady Grey, would you mind if I helped Tyler? There could be difficult concepts in there for him." And now Vivian succumbs to her own curiosity, but with a plausible argument towards helping another.

Lyra is careful to help the snake balance atop her head as she leans forward, onto tented fingers once again.

"I don't mind. I'll still give him the book, if only for the opportunity to see whether or not our crafts are even compatible. As I told him- I have a vested interest in the growth and empowerment of those spellcasters who call Prospect home. There are a great many threats arrayed against us all, and every modicum of strength that can be gained, should be. If you have knowledge of warding spells that can help him with his issue, then by all means. Teach him. But understand that the knowledge I offer runs deeply." She looks to Tyler then, adding with candour.

"I can have the book by you tomorrow afternoon. Meet me here and I'll hand it off? I 'would' like it back within a month or so, so do your best to sift through Gerald's ramblings... They can be cumbersome."