Earth Bet: House of the Sun (Cultist Simulator/Worm)

Winning Vote:
[X] Plan: Finishing Up and Staying Low
-[X] You are injured (You currently have two wounds. You'll make a roll at +15 against a DC of 70. You must select one of the below)
--[X] Rest and recover (Cost zero actions, roll one recovery dice.)
---[X] Your body will heal on its own terms (Costs nothing)
-[X] On work and the people you preach to.
--[X] You'll end a few minutes early, subtly of course (Gain an extra action)
-[X] On furthering the cause.
--[X] Request Funds (This does not cost an Action)
---[X] 30 Funds, for summoning Sun Sparks
--[X] Assist somebody else in their task
---[X] (Dappled Wing) Delilah is working over Agent Coulson, ensuring he suffers from problems and setbacks so why not lend your aid
-[X] On learning the Lores.
--[X] Lady Mylissa is willing to teach, request a lesson
---[X] Winter
---[X] Grail
-[X] Cast a Ritual
--[X] Summon a Sun Spark (x2)
--[X] The Attention of the Laws (Heart)
--[X] (Charlotte) The Calling of Influence (Heart), on us
-[X] The Mansus, a place of contradictions. It calls to you, reach out.
--[X] The Woods
---[X] Travel down the Wax Melted Trail (Mansus Expedition)
-[X] On the goal, of rites, rituals, and summoned creatures
--[X] (Dappled Wing) Search out a Ritual

---

Ava's displeasure was palpable the moment you stepped into the room. Her gaze was sharp, lips pressed into a thin line that only accentuated the tension coiling around her.

She stood behind her desk, fingers tightly interwoven, her knuckles white as if containing an irritation she was on the verge of letting loose. Despite her visible annoyance, she was here, present and professional, though it was clear she would rather be anywhere else.

"You're here for money, correct?" Ava's voice cut through the silence, cold and businesslike. You nodded, a touch sheepishly, feeling a momentary pang of awkwardness. Her eyes didn't leave you as she turned to a drawer, pulling out a check.

She slid it across the desk with the same detached precision she used for everything. But just as your fingers brushed the paper, her hand shot forward, grasping your wrist firmly.

You froze, surprised by the suddenness of it. Ava wasn't physically strong—you could easily pull away if you wanted—but her grip held a certain weight, not of force, but of intent. Her eyes met yours, unblinking, the tension between you palpable. Ava was not one for theatrics, which only made the gesture more unsettling. You waited, sensing that she had something more to say.

"I would greatly appreciate it," she began, her voice calm yet carrying an underlying edge, "if you could ensure Delilah is successful in preventing the PRT from arresting Damsel." There was no rise in her tone, no outward frustration, but you could tell this situation with Ashley gnawed at her. It wasn't just a favor—it was a demand, cloaked in civility.

"I'm already working on it," you assured her, your words slipping out smoothly, even if they bent the truth just a little. You were sending your Dappled Wing to assist, and in your mind, that was more effective than anything else you could offer at the moment.

Ava's grip loosened as she released your wrist, her shoulders relaxing just slightly as she leaned back in her chair. "Thank you," she said simply, though there was no warmth in her tone. "You can leave now. Have a nice day." Her attention shifted away from you, back to the papers strewn across her desk, dismissing you with a casual wave as though you were already forgotten.

Recognizing her mood and the delicate balance of your interaction, you didn't linger. It was clear that staying any longer would only exacerbate whatever frustrations simmered beneath Ava's composed exterior.

Without another word, you turned to leave, quietly slipping out the door and leaving her to her work. It was best not to add any unnecessary complications to an already fraught situation.

You have received 30 Funds to be used in summoning; ensure they are spent on that.

---

"Hey," Charlotte greeted warmly, her ever-present smile lighting up her face as she wrapped her arms around you in a hug. You felt her familiar warmth as you instinctively patted her back, returning the embrace.

Despite the ritual preparations unfolding around you, a moment of calm settled between the two of you, her energy a comforting presence amidst the chaos. The cadre bustled about, drawing intricate symbols on the floor, preparing the space for the ritual that would invoke Heart's power, meant to accelerate your healing.

As she pulled away, Charlotte's hands gently tapped your bandaged arms, concern flickering in her eyes. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, her usual optimism tempered by the sight of your wounds.

You gave her a reassuring smile, always grateful for her genuine care. "I'm fine. The Mansus is just… a hard place to climb," you said, your tone light, trying not to make it sound like a bigger deal than it was. "That's partly why I'm doing this," you continued, gesturing to the ritual space forming around you. "It'll ensure I heal faster."

Charlotte nodded thoughtfully, her expression softening. "Sounds about right. The Well was hard to get through," she remarked casually, patting you on the shoulder before skipping toward the center of the interlocking circles being carefully etched into the ground.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She had mentioned the Well—the Luster Drowned Well. You had told the cult about its existence, but you hadn't expected Charlotte, of all people, to be the one to delve into its treacherous depths. There was a pang of worry, but now wasn't the time to pry. You made a mental note to talk to her about it later. For now, you had to focus on your role in the ritual.

[The Calling of Influence - Heart DC: 60/80/110/150]

[Roll: 66+9(Piety)+30(Heart)+23(Cadre)+30(The Lady's Celler) = 158]

The drums began, low and steady, as Charlotte moved gracefully within the circles, her movements rhythmic and deliberate. She swayed with a hypnotic grace, stamping her feet to the beat as the sound reverberated through the room.

You took your place on the edge of the ritual, waiting for your cue, eyes following her as she performed her part with an effortless fluidity.

It came quickly—Charlotte spun by you, her hands reaching out, and you clasped them firmly. The connection sparked something immediate, almost primal, as the cadence of the ritual quickened.

Music filled the air, a haunting melody that resonated deep in your bones. The rhythm of the drums grew louder, faster, in sync with the pounding in your chest. You felt it all at once—sound, movement, energy—coursing through your body, pulling you deeper into the ritual's thrall.

Your feet slammed against the ground, each impact a jolt of raw power surging through you. Your veins pulsed with a force beyond your control, your body straining under the immense pressure as the ritual took hold.

Your bones ached, your breath caught in your throat, and for a brief, terrifying moment, it felt like you were drowning. Stars danced behind your eyes, spinning wildly as the beat rose higher, faster. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, each thump a resounding echo, shaking you to your core.

But you kept moving.

Would not stop.

Could not stop.

Would not stop.

Could not stop.

Would not stop.

Could not stop.

Would not stop.

DANCING!

You are now under the effect of An Imminence, it will last until the end of the next month.

You have gained 2 scraps of Heart lore for being under the greatest influences Heart can sing.

---

Your entire body thrummed with an almost unbearable energy as you ascended the stairs, each step light, nearly bounding, as if the rhythm within you propelled you forward.

It wasn't just your legs—the tremble of your fingers, the pounding in your chest—it all felt connected, synchronized to a song only you seemed to hear. The world itself seemed to sway to that hidden melody, though you couldn't tell if it was real or simply the remnants of Heart's influence lingering in your mind.

Still, none of that would distract you from your purpose. You had come here to learn from Lady Mylissa, and despite the pulsing energy coursing through your body, you weren't about to turn back now.

You pushed open the door to her chambers, the creak of the wood surprisingly loud against the quiet of the room. Stepping inside, your gaze immediately found Lady Mylissa, seated regally in a plush chair, her posture poised, as always.

Across from her, another chair sat, but your attention quickly shifted to the coffee table before it, which lay in ruins—splintered wood, shattered glass, the remnants of something that had gone awry.

"Is everything alright?" you asked, your voice hesitant, feet pausing just shy of the fractured table. You took a careful step around the debris, noting the oddly calm air that seemed to hang over the room despite the obvious signs of destruction.

Lady Mylissa smiled at you, a smile that held more than a hint of amusement as she gestured for you to sit. "Ashley is simply experiencing a few… difficulties," she said with a casual wave of her hand, though the pleased glint in her eyes suggested she wasn't particularly displeased with the situation. "We've been working through them."

"Right," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty as you took the seat opposite her. You had hoped that Ashley would acclimate well to Lady Mylissa's guidance, but it seemed there were hurdles—ones that, from the look of things, hadn't been easy to overcome. Still, it was a relief to see that Ashley's struggles hadn't turned into something far worse. Not yet, at least.

Lady Mylissa's gaze shifted then, her sharp eyes drawn downward. You followed her stare and realized, with a start, that your fingers were drumming relentlessly on your lap, your feet pounding a steady rhythm on the floor.

The energy of the Heart ritual was still coursing through you, refusing to settle, and no matter how hard you tried to still your movements, it was as if you were possessed by that same relentless beat.

"I want to know more about Winter," you said, managing to still your fingers for a moment as you met her gaze. Lady Mylissa's smile widened, but she didn't speak. The silence stretched between you, and after a moment of awkward waiting, you leaned forward, ready to ask again.

But she raised a finger, a single, deliberate gesture that froze you in place. The sternness in her eyes was immediate, the lightness gone, replaced by an icy authority that sent a shiver through your body. It was a sharp, cold glance, one that made you pause, heart skipping a beat as the energy within you faltered.

You stilled completely, the weight of her unspoken command pressing down on you. Even as your limbs trembled from the residual force of the Heart ritual, you forced yourself into silence, unwilling to defy her in that moment. There was something in her gaze—an unspoken warning, a test perhaps—that kept you rigid, waiting.

And yet, she didn't lower her finger.

The silence stretched longer, growing heavy between you, but you didn't dare break it. The room was filled with the weight of unspoken words, of a lesson you couldn't yet grasp but knew was being taught regardless.

It was hard, excruciatingly so, to remain so still when every part of you screamed to move, to act, to break the silence with a question or a comment, but you resisted. You knew—instinctively, perhaps—that to speak now would be a mistake. Lady Mylissa's mood was inscrutable, but one thing was certain: upsetting her was not an option.

As the minutes passed, your thoughts began to drift. The stillness became easier, the weight of her presence less oppressive as your mind slowly relaxed. Ideas flitted in and out, distractions you allowed yourself to indulge in, just to pass the time.

Eventually, you leaned back in the chair, your body loosening, the tension ebbing away as the energy from Heart finally began to settle within you. In that quiet, you began to understand the lesson—one not spoken, but conveyed in the silence, the cold patience of Winter.

You met her gaze again and offered a small, silent smile, your way of acknowledging that you understood, even if only a little, what she had been trying to impart.

You have learned about speech, about silence and the stillness that follows. Gain 1 scrap of Winter lore.

Winter Lore is now Level 2

---

You had returned to Lady Mylissa's manor, the relentless energy of Heart under control. Learning Winter like that had been tortrues, but now you were ready to learn about Grail.

As you made your way toward the parlor, the familiar hallway seemed quieter than usual, though the soft murmur of voices drifted from the slightly ajar door ahead.

You hesitated, pausing just before you reached the threshold, considering whether to eavesdrop. But no—Lady Mylissa and Ashley deserved privacy. Whatever they discussed was not for your ears, and you were certain they wouldn't appreciate your intrusion.

Rapping gently on the door, the murmurs inside ceased immediately. You heard a faint rustling, followed by the soft thud of approaching footsteps. The door swung open, revealing Ashley standing before you, her gaze meeting yours with a confidence you hadn't seen in her before.

She wore a simple black dress, elegant yet understated—far removed from the tattered clothes she had when you first encountered her. Her posture had changed too, back straight as if she had been molded into someone altogether different. You could see the subtle influence of Lady Mylissa in her newfound poise.

"Hello," you greeted her warmly, offering a small smile. "How are you doing?"

Ashley blinked, her fingers twitching briefly before she stilled them. Her mouth opened as though to answer, then closed again. She hesitated, choosing her words with uncharacteristic care, a sharp contrast to her previous anxiousness.

"I am doing well," she finally said, her voice slow and deliberate. Each word was measured, and though the restraint was obvious, it was also impressive. Lady Mylissa had clearly been teaching her, shaping her mind and manners in ways you hadn't fully anticipated. Whatever fears you had harbored about them not getting along seemed to be fading.

"That's good to hear," you responded. Before you could say more, Lady Mylissa's voice floated over from inside the parlor, warm yet commanding, as she rose from her chair and approached the doorway.

"I believe this will conclude our lesson for today. You have been doing well," Lady Mylissa said, her tone approving. Ashley's face lit up at the praise, and she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod before walking past you.

Despite the energy you could sense thrumming beneath her skin—the restless urge to break, to fleck her wrists, and to bend the world asunder—she held herself back, maintaining a measured, regal pace as she exited the room. It was an incredible improvement from just a week ago.

"Here to learn again?" Lady Mylissa asked, a slight arch to her brow as she observed you.

You nodded, settling into the chair across from her. She passed you a cup of tea, the porcelain warm against your fingers, as you prepared yourself for the lesson ahead.

"What do you wish to learn?" she inquired, her eyes keen, always probing.

"Grail," you answered simply, setting your cup down. The moment the word left your lips, Lady Mylissa's expression shifted, and her smile deepened.

"Very well," she said, leaning back in her chair. "You already know desire—what it can create, how it manifests. But you only understand the bold and obvious desires, the ones that scream for attention. Today, I will teach you about the subtle ones—the quiet, aching desires that whisper rather than shout."

Her words gave you pause. You weren't entirely sure what she meant, but before you could ask, something stirred within you. A strange heat welled up, low and insistent, spreading through your body like wildfire.

Your fingers twitched against your lap, your breath catching in your throat. The room felt suddenly warmer, the air thicker. You set the teacup down, your hands trembling as you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

Lady Mylissa was beautiful. That had always been a fact, something you accepted as plainly as the sky being blue. But now, in this moment, her beauty felt overwhelming.

Every detail, from the curve of her lips to the softness of her gaze, was magnified, and you found it impossible to look directly at her without your body reacting in ways you couldn't control. Your cheeks flushed, your breath quickened, and every nerve in your body seemed to hum with an aching, quiet intensity.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Lady Mylissa's voice, low and smooth, slid into your ears, sending a shiver down your spine. You tore your gaze from her and stared up at the ceiling, doing everything in your power to ignore the unbearable pull that threatened to consume you.

"They ache, these desires," she continued, her voice like velvet. "They don't throb—they don't scream. But they linger, don't they? Quietly. Patiently. Waiting."

Her words danced through your mind, teasing the edges of your thoughts, and in that moment, you understood the depth of the lesson. This wasn't just about physical sensation or fleeting lust—this was about the faint desires of a person, about learning to recognize and understand the quiet forces that pulled at a person, the subtle cravings that could sway your actions if left unchecked.

You sat there, still as stone, breathing deeply in and out. Each breath was a battle, a conscious effort to maintain control as your mind fought to stay centered, to keep your thoughts clear in the midst of the growing haze. Lady Mylissa's words wrapped around you like a net, and it took everything you had not to succumb.

The lesson stretched on, a silent, internal war between desire and discipline. It felt like this lesson stretched on for hours yet by the end of it, you felt as though something within you had shifted, a fundamental understanding clicking into place.

You have learned about the desires that can simply ache and the ones that are painful to deny. Gain 1 scrap of Grail Lore.

Grail Lore is now Level 3.

You feel something stirring. An interlude is to follow.