+- Court of the Fallen (https://cotf-rpg.com)
+-- Forum: Out of Character (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=26)
+--- Forum: Important (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=27)
+---- Forum: Archives (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=38)
+---- Thread: [SE] like you never left, like you said you never would (/showthread.php?tid=11653)
Pages:
1
2
RE: like you never left, like you said you never would - Theea - 07-25-2025
I smile at the thought of Mel and my mom causing trouble together. It’s too easy to imagine—grins like firelight, soot on their fingers, something broken and still sparking behind them. Yeah. They’d be dangerous in the best way. [say]“You two would make a hell of a team.”[/say]
When she mentions Remi, I nod, unsurprised. I’d heard stories—he and Ludo, before. It’s just one more thread in this huge woven history I’m only now finding my place in. It makes sense. Still feels a little unreal sometimes, being related to people like that. [say]“I do feel safer,”[/say] I admit. [say]“Knowing they’re out there, that they’d fight for me if I needed it.”[/say]
But I glance back at the shrine, and something settles deeper in me. [say]“Still want to stand on my own, though.”[/say] I always have. Not because I don’t trust them—but because I want to be worthy of them. Of my mom. Of the people I’m just beginning to know.
The light’s getting lower now, warm along the stone edges of the shrine. I look up at Mort’s face—worn smooth by generations of grief and hope—and exhale slowly. [say]“I was angry at him for a long time.”[/say] My voice is soft, steady. [say]“But I’m not anymore. I’m... grateful.”[/say]
Because somehow, knowing Mort is caring for my dad—blissfully, no less—and that Ludo ferried him there gently… it’s enough. It gives me something to hold onto when the grief claws up again. It doesn’t make it hurt less. It just makes it bearable. I don’t say that out loud. But in my head, I whisper it—[say]thank you,[/say] to Mort. Just in case he’s still listening.
I turn back to Melita, something lighter blooming in my chest. [say]“Maybe I need to treat things a little more lightly, too.”[/say] I glance at the offerings, at the place I left my little dragon. [say]“Ludo’s like the embodiment of remembrance, right? Maybe it doesn’t want us to cry every time we remember someone. Maybe it wants us to smile.”[/say]
I pause, then look back at her with a small, thoughtful smile. [say]“What do you think Ludo would have me do, instead of weeping?”[/say]
RE: like you never left, like you said you never would - Melita - 07-25-2025
Melita and any “team” seemed to be in a discordant amount of trouble on any given day; whether it be purposeful or accidental demolition. She kept that mostly to herself, figuring any antics would eventually get out by word of mouth, gossip, and tea anyway, granting a sly little wink for the nuance anyway.
As for wanting to stand on her own, the Honeybee could comprehend that from a very personal point, seeing as how much she’d done it over the years. [say]“It can definitely be done. Just gotta give yourself time.”[/say] Not to go running headlong into trials and tribulations right from the start (they’d all learned about that in Caido, and quickly too). [say]“Have a backup plan in case.”[/say] Of shit going down.
She couldn’t say the same about being angry at Mort…she’d never had any reason to be. Her family wasn’t entrenched here. Sunjata, Ru, and so many others remained, existed, tied themselves to these mortal realms, but hadn’t yet to go to the Big God’s. Her brow arched at the next inquiry though, inciting a laugh. [say]“Ludo thinks we’re all way too serious. We need to lighten up more.”[/say] Her features went towards the shrine, then amidst the ocean, the swirl of the waves, the vast current. [say]“I think now is a perfect time, really. No more Family. The war is done.”[/say] For now. There was always some shit. [say]“We take the opportunity we’ve been granted for things we should’ve been doing all along.”[/say]
RE: like you never left, like you said you never would - Theea - 07-25-2025
[say]“I have backup plans,”[/say] I say, sounding confident… until I don’t. [say]“Mostly. I mean—If we’re being honest, I’m lucky if I remember to bring a snack with me on a hike.”[/say] I flash a self-conscious grin and shrug. [say]“I try to think things through, but sometimes you just… have to jump, right?”[/say]
Not recklessly. Not without caring. Just... because I don’t want to miss the moment. Because hesitation’s gotten me hurt before, and going headfirst into trouble feels better than watching it from the sidelines.
Melita’s words stay with me, though. And she’s right. Especially now. With the Family gone. With the war technically over.
I think about my father—how he died not for a cause, but as a consequence. Another name lost in the fire. Another life counted in the cost. It’s been hard to let go of that. Hard to find peace in a war that took him without asking.
But I think about the nights after. The quiet ones. The way my mom would tell stories around the fire when we couldn’t sleep. The way we laughed—sometimes loud, sometimes broken—but laughed all the same. How we tried to live, even if only in fragments.
We should’ve done more of that. Maybe we’d both have healed better. Maybe we wouldn’t have had to do it apart.
I tuck those thoughts away and look back at Melita, lips twitching into something more like a smile.
[say]“So what’s your next plan, you think? Do you have one?”[/say] I ask. [say]“To bring Ludo’s mischief further into Caido. You’ve clearly got the credentials.”[/say]
RE: like you never left, like you said you never would - Melita - 07-26-2025
[say]“I only said it because I need to do it too,”[/say] she winked, wrinkling her nose. Melita was very much the sort of individual who never looked before she leapt, and while sometimes it worked out, other moments had been scattered into mishaps and…well, death. Once on her part. And she was of the more reckless, audacious, emboldened type, and though she’d admit having become better at certain situations, there was still that glimmer of forethought that went by the wayside. Hindsight could be all well and good, but eh. Violence first, questions later.
The question lobbed at her was one the Honeybee had been given nuance of already though, and she grinned again. [say]“I’ve been touring the regions. Games and such to amuse. Did a massive water balloon fight in Stormbreak, stuff like that.”[/say] Other plans might’ve been tucked into her mindset for further developments, and she’d yet to puzzle and mull through her and Iskra’s meandering around.[say] “I think it’ll all be better received after this Family shit too. You have any favorites?”[/say] Some were easier to toil through than others in group settings – but she’d take ideas regardless.
RE: like you never left, like you said you never would - Theea - 07-28-2025
Melita winks, and I grin despite myself. There’s something oddly comforting about watching the pieces of a legend shift into something real. Someone real. A little unhinged, a little unpredictable—but not unreachable.
I grew up hearing stories about people like her. Warriors. Demigods. Symbols, really. But I’m learning that they’re just… people. People who’ve clawed their way through chaos and heartbreak and still found the will to laugh. To help. To keep others standing, even while their own legs shook.
[say]“A water balloon fight in Stormbreak,”[/say] I echo with a short chuckle, shaking my head. [say]“I wish I’d been there. That sounds like an actual blast.”[/say]
I picture the chaos, the mess, the shrieking laughter echoing. The kind of joy that gets into your lungs and doesn’t let go.
She asks about favorites, and I pause, thoughtful. I’d grown up rather isolated, but we stayed in small villages here and there, where I could play with other children.
[say]“One of my favorite games when I was little was Red Rover.”[/say] I glance over to see if she knows it, then go on just in case. [say]“So you split into two lines, right? Two teams. Everyone links arms and faces the other side. And one side calls, ‘Red Rover, Red Rover, send whoever right over!’”[/say]
My grin widens as I gesture with my hands like I’m organizing invisible teams.
[say]“And the person whose name gets called has to run full-speed at the other team’s line and try to break through their linked arms. If they break through, they grab someone and pull them back to their side. If not? They get stuck on that team. It was chaotic. Someone always got a bruise. But it was the best kind of mess.”[/say]
RE: like you never left, like you said you never would - Melita - 07-28-2025
Melita had never thought of herself as anything else; an angry, irate, chaotic thing sent to Caido to survive. Everything else in between had been ventures in audacity and emboldened potential, lined in ruins, regret, and rapacity; covetous hands clenching and clutching upon anything she could snag. The world had taught her to be avaricious, because naught else might give her the opportunity – not unless she took it with fists and brazen ferocity.
Maybe Ludo had seen the spark and willed it into something a little more purposeful. [say]“It was! A bunch threatened to call the Dragoons on us,”[/say] and she rolled her eyes, otherwise unbothered by the whole thing. [say]“They couldn’t have caught us anyway,”[/say] with all the air of confidence in herself and her tirade of foolish friends descending upon the villas. Even when Mateo had fallen off a roof.
But then she was listening, head tilting at the semblances of Red Rover. She couldn’t say she’d played it before, though it sounded quite intriguing; she could picture hordes of morons running hellbent for one another and ending up close-lined or something. [say]“That sounds fantastic. I may have to rope people into that shit.”[/say] A promise to indulge in the new and ridiculous. [say]"I'll let you know if I do some games next time, if you want to be pulled into it."[/say]
RE: like you never left, like you said you never would - Theea - 07-30-2025
I giggle, quick and breathless at first, and then shake my head with a grin that lingers.
[say]“The Dragoons? For a water balloon fight?”[/say]
It comes out with disbelief wrapped in delight. [say]“Gods, it had to be wild if it was disturbing the peace enough to warrant actual authorities.”[/say]
I try to picture it—warriors scrambling after a bunch of mischief-makers with dripping clothes and slingshots full of soaked nonsense—and nearly laugh again. The image is perfect, perfectly fitting with the woman in front of me.
[say]“I've never had any issues like that. But the last time my mom had the authorities called, she got arrested by Ronin,”[/say] I add, glancing over with a spark of mischief of my own. [say]“Not for a game, though. Street brawl. She insists it was justified.”[/say]
I shrug, but there’s a gleam in my eye. Ashe’s version of fun wasn’t always entirely legal, but it was always loud, fast, and heartfelt. I’ve got a feeling Melita would appreciate the sentiment.
And when she offers to pull me into the next set of games, I nod, quick and sure.
[say]“I’d love to.”[/say] It’s simple, but I mean it completely. [say]“Thank you. I could use some…”[/say] I pause, searching for the right word. [say]“Some real fun. Normal fun. Not running-from-something, not avoiding-the-grief-swirling-in-my-chest kind of fun. Just... the messy, ridiculous kind.”[/say]
RE: like you never left, like you said you never would - Melita - 08-01-2025
The laughter was a reminder of her purpose; to amuse, to divert, to ensure the rest of the world wasn’t being swallowed down by everything that plagued them. She grinned in response, still knife-edged. [say]“Eh, I’d even pulled in one of them to join, so,”[/say] she shrugged again; Koa usually on the unfortunate end of her schemes. [say]“Sometimes people simply don’t know how to have a good time.”[/say] Which was sad.
Being arrested for street brawls, especially by Ronin, had her laughing too. [say]“Like he hasn’t been in any before,” [/say]she hastened – given how many antics they’d all gotten up to in Caido, much less anywhere else. [say]“And yeah, I get that,”[/say] when it came to the portions of fun. While the Honeybee might’ve always found ways to amuse herself, it was because she stayed clear of her own feelings, rising above the murk and agony and melancholy, for a taste of petulance and distraction, entertainment and derision, a little bit of rebellion in the spark of everything else. [say]“I’ll definitely let you know. I need to head out for now – but I’ll catch you ‘round!”[/say]
RE: like you never left, like you said you never would - Theea - 08-08-2025
[say]“Yeah,”[/say] I say with a grin, still riding the warmth from laughing with her. [say]“You’d better let me know. I’m holding you to that.”[/say]
I glance at the shrine one last time before meeting her gaze again. There’s a pull in my chest I don’t usually get with people I’ve just met — but Melita’s different. Easy to talk to, even when we’re circling around heavy things.
[say]“It was… really good meeting you.”[/say] The words come quiet, shy even, but I mean every one. [say]“I hope I see you again. Preferably before you start some chaos — but I’m not picky.”[/say]
My grin tilts a little, because the truth is, I wouldn’t mind getting pulled into it. Not one bit.
[say]“Safe travels, Honeybee.”[/say]
FIN