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+---- Thread: what should've been you (/showthread.php?tid=10765)
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what should've been you - Ronin - 03-01-2025
At twilight, on that first day after the sun had risen over the region, Ronin finally leaves the Aumakua lighthouse. He still hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, but his work in the time since his meeting with Safrin has been feverish and reverent, his movements sure and swift and unshakeable. Out in the swaying grasses, he approaches the cliffside, not far from where a small white stone - another grave marker - already serves as a resting place for the first of his daughters.
It's at this cliffside, only metres from Aoife's headstone, where he starts to build the pyre for Seren.
By the time his work is done, the stars are beginning to wink to life in the sky overhead, and Ronin hesitates for only a moment before he returns briefly to the lighthouse, to carry his daughter in his arms for the last time. He's wrapped her in a beautiful linen embroidered with the same stars and constellations as the ones that gleam above, settling her with utmost care upon the pyre amid sprays of hibiscus and star jasmine.
Kissing her brow through the linen, only once he's satisfied that she's comfortable - odd as that may seem - does he step back, waiting for whoever else might wish to come and pay their respects.
RE: what should've been you - Flora - 03-01-2025
Flora arrives at the cliffside with Jack at her side. She clutches a small bouquet of wildflowers—delicate and unsung, not unlike her sister—along with a slender bottle of gin, one that she and Seren never got to share. Wearing only her carefully applied lipstick (she left the rest of her makeup behind, knowing her tears would wash it all away), the queen slumps at Jack's side, hesitating briefly as if by not attending Seren's funeral she might somehow prevent it from happening altogether.
Eventually, though, Flora forces herself forward, parting from the captain to set down the spray of flowers on the pyre. Then, with a shaky breath, she uncaps the bottle of gin and leans in close, her voice barely above a whisper. [say]"I'm sorry we only had time for one drink,"[/say] she murmurs, the words heavy with loss. She takes a careful sip, letting the burn of the gin mingle with her sorrow.
RE: what should've been you - Jack - 03-01-2025
As a man who dances with death very regularly, it's nonetheless quite a rarity for Jack to attend an actual funeral. Even for those he knows, the majority of them perish out at sea, where there's only really time for a toast and a few words before things inevitably move on. Nevertheless, he arrives alongside Flora, his clothes dark and his expression quietly neutral; he'd warned the Doubletake beforehand that he'd be holding his mental walls particularly high, given the concentrated amount of grief in the air.
Slipping his arm from around her as she parts to go and pay her respects to the young demigod, for Jack's part, he tucks a hand to the inside pocket of his coat, drawing out a flask of dark rum. Uncapping it, he raises it in a silent toast towards the pyre, then takes a long drink and puts it away again. Perhaps somewhere in Mort's halls, Seren can enjoy all the drinks she wants.
RE: what should've been you - Mateo - 03-01-2025
Mateo isn't drunk but he absolutely isn't sober either, arriving on the heels of Flora and Jack with little more than a small paper bag of something in his hands. With red rimmed eyes he waits patiently for his sister to share her moment with Seren, before heading up to join her and leaning down by the pyre. Scattering the items in the paper bag - seeds, of course - he whispers something in the travelling tongue before straightening up.
[say]"I am sorry that we could not have more time,"[/say] he says, his voice rough and tired. [say]"There are many people who love you in Mort's realm, so you should not be lonely."[/say] And isn't that sad as well? Sniffing and raking his curls out of his face, he gives Flora's shoulder a warm squeeze before retreating back into the long grasses.
RE: what should've been you - Serendipity - 03-01-2025
You’ve encountered a Tumsea. This counts as a rare creature encounter for the purposes of levelling, but does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention. If you choose to follow this creature, you do so at your own risk, however, just having it in this thread is enough to satisfy your levelling requirements. You may not kill your rare creature without admin permission.
Tumseas (rare/mythical): Smaller cousins of the Tulmhainar, Tumseas are like moving ecosystems all unto themselves. With shells of brilliant blues and earth browns, these turtle-like creatures can grow to nearly 4ft in diameter and can hold their breath for decades at a time. Bringing vibrancy and health to all the underwater trails they follow, Tumseas are thought to be good omens and are often followed by schools of fish encantados
RE: what should've been you - Maea - 03-01-2025
A crow circled above the precedings, unusual only by its size and rare color. Uncertain whether her presence would be welcome or not, Maea had opted to remain on the periphery so that the family could grieve in peace.
She hadn't known Seren. Seen her, sure, but only in passing during social events. They had never been introduced, never exchanged words, and neither of them knew that an odd piece of bone could have made for an interesting discussion on ownership. But right now, watching the wrapped form of Ronin's daughter being laid out on the pyre, Maea couldn't help but feel a connection.
Mostly it was guilt. For surviving when this girl had not. For taking focus and ability away when it could have saved someone else. Was she worthy of life? Maybe. Some said she was. But Safrin's demigod definitely was, and it was a stone in her gut, a weight on her chest, to be here and flaunt the life in herself that could have been given to a starchild.
Twisting her beak around, Maea plucked a feather from her chest and let it drift down, softly settling on Seren's chest.
Thank you. I'm so sorry. May you find peace.
Tearing her gaze away, the shifted ancient angled her wings and felt the wind carry her higher into the air. She would remain there until the funeral was over, unless someone took notice and wished to speak to her. Heart going out to her friends, Maea knew there wasn't anything she could say or do to comfort them right now. Losing your family was not the kind of wound you ever really healed from... and this was the second child to go before their time.
RE: what should've been you - Sunjata - 03-01-2025
The news was not something Sunjata wanted to hear. And it only continues to cement the fact that he needs to get started on it with King’s End. But to have it happen in Torchline of all places, to Seren of all people… Well, the Flood tries his best to not appear hopeless, even if that’s all he could manage feeling at this particular moment.
Blocking it out with a cigarette hanging from his lips, dressed dark and reserved, Sunjata arrives with a nod to all of those gathered and approaches the pyre to set down a small bracelet – one with colorful beads of memories from years before, one reminiscent of the bean bag game they’d played together years ago, before the war.
And the fact that she called him uncle, reflects in his mind, in a way that makes him wish he knew where Kamaria was, whether she’d gone back to the stars or not – but even more at a loss for his own daughter and sister to the fallen demigod, he murmurs a soft and low hum of apologies that her life had been cut so short, before he withdraws and pointedly keeps his attention away from Ronin, trying his best to remain neutral in that aspect, too. Trying to appear normal enough.
He steps back somewhere in between Ronin and the rest of the grouping, draining the cigarette between his lips with practiced ease.
RE: what should've been you - Hadama - 03-01-2025
After a peaceful LongNight in Torchline, the news of Seren's passing had come as a shock. Hadama came to the lighthouse on heavy feet, moving to Ronin's side to squeeze his shoulder in silent shared grief before he moved up to where she lay upon the unlit pyre.
Shrouded. Peaceful. She could have been asleep if not for the funeral linen that obscured her features. He bowed his head at first, and then bowed deeper as he seemed to sink in upon himself. Diminished by his grief, proud shoulders rounded.
At length he placed a small stone upon the pyre beside her in remembrance for the day they had spent in her pocket dimension, and the game they had played with her power. "You will be missed, my friend," he whispered to her spirit before stepping back to make room for the next person who wished to pay respects. He moved away to stand apart, his expression impassive as he turned his gaze to the sky above, his emotions - his pain - held tightly deep within.
RE: what should've been you - Remi - 03-01-2025
Another funeral. Another lantern that will be made for the Festival of Lights. Another reason for sleepless nights and soul-deep scars. Another daughter, gone.
Remi had kept his distance from the lighthouse, knowing that Ronin had needed that time alone. Now, though, he stands at the edge of the gathered mourners, his fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeves as he watches the flickering torches cast long shadows across the pyre. He doesn’t speak immediately, doesn’t even know what words would matter here, though he does extend a pulse of recognition for those in attendance through the attuned bond, before nodding to Flora and Mateo. Then, he kneels, his movements slow and deliberate as he reaches into his pocket and withdraws a small, carefully folded piece of parchment.
It’s nothing grand. Just a scrap of paper, worn at the edges, covered in tiny sketches of constellations—some real, some imagined. Seren had once told him the stars spoke in stories, and though they'd never had the chance to share more than a few between them, the memory had never left him. He smooths the paper between his fingers for a moment before tucking it beneath the linen that covers her, letting it settle against the fabric embroidered with stars.
[say]"I’m sorry,"[/say] he murmurs, the words barely more than breath. Sorry for what? That she was gone? That he hadn’t had more time with her? That no matter how much they tried, their family always seemed to be standing at the edge of a grave?
His throat works around the knot that has formed there, and he lingers only a moment longer before he rises, exhaling shakily as he steps back, his gaze flickering toward Ronin before moving slowly toward his husband and reaching for the Knight's hand.
RE: what should've been you - Deimos - 03-02-2025
If there’d been any mild hopes for Flowerbirth, they’d been dashed within hours. Once the sun rose, the chaotic and horrific results of LongNight trailed through the halls, and far beyond broken hot springs and assaults, more news gutted and scorned their way into his threshold.
So the Sword arrived, with all the stoicism and impassive features he could render – having taken enough thoughts and feelings across the journey. Another one of Ronin and Remi’s family gone, another one of Safrin’s torn apart, another portion and piece of the world that, for all he knew, had been completely innocent. Though he hadn’t seen Seren since they’d tested the orb from her mother, she’d still been a helpful, friendly, amiable individual – and had tried to help turn the tides of Halo, in those seasons before Ascended upheaval.
He gave a look to Sunjata (for future, pending discussions) and others in passing, but stayed along the fringes and borders of the area, not wanting to grant anything other than his support.
RE: what should've been you - Melita - 03-02-2025
LongNight, for a great while, had been one of those things Melita didn’t have to think about much any longer. Torchline was safe in those capacities. People drank, set fires on the beach, and carried on with their nonsense as if nothing was altered. This round carried a far greater expanse than she’d thought possible, since vacating the Grounds, and though she didn’t know the younger woman well – she was close to the family.
So off the demigod went, taking her part and point amongst the crowd. The somber affair and winds had her drawing her hood upwards, angling towards her uncle as he came in to pay his respects too. Drawing up alongside, she simply sighed, but said nothing – eyes pinpointed between Remi and Ronin and the small, covered figure.
RE: what should've been you - Vesper - 03-02-2025
Vesper stands quietly on the grassy cliff overlooking the sea, his sisters close by on either side. He'll offer polite, silent nods to those whose eyes flick his way without inviting any conversation, uncertain of the customs and unpracticed in the art of funerals.
Even so, a tight knot of unease twists in his stomach; Seren wasn't just a sibling, but a demigod of Safrin's as well. If she could be taken so abruptly, then what hope would he have if some unexpected fate sets its sights on him? Nevertheless, his features remain cool, carefully blank of emotion, but he senses the raw grief radiating off Ronin and Remi in silent waves. Normally he’d open his mind to gauge the shape of that sorrow, but Vesper keeps his own telepathy tightly wound, unwilling to glean more of that heartache than necessary. Instead, he glances sideways at Nova and Caly, lifting a hand and laying it gently on each of their shoulders.
His gaze drifts across the mourners and settles on Melita in the crowd, stirring a low burn of mistrust, and he leaves his telepathic net open just enough to gauge whether he or his siblings need to be on guard.
RE: what should've been you - Safrin - 03-02-2025
Twilight clung heavily to the air as Safrin emerged from the depths of the cosmos. As she stepped toward the pyre, the linen wrapped around Seren's body suddenly took on a silvery luminescence; a soft, steady glow of starlight that danced along the wood.
Safrin moved with a measured grace, her eyes scanning the gathered mourners. Though Sunjata ’s presence irritated her, she turned her gaze away, letting the bitter memories of his betrayal recede into the background. Instead, her attention drifted toward those who had long earned her favour: Deimos,
Her eyes finally fell upon Ronin last, but certainly not least. Without a word, Safrin approached and stood by his side before letting her hand slip down toward his, her fingers reaching to tangle with his own. The starlight that now bathed the scene seemed to echo the weight of her own unspoken grief—a grief that was both infinite and achingly human. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Safrin murmured, [say]"Whenever you're ready, sugar."[/say] And in that moment Ronin would possess the ability to light their daughter's body ablaze not with flame, but with the heat and light of the stars themselves.
RE: what should've been you - Sah - 03-02-2025
Sah had been devastated when the news had reached him. It was only at the behest of his children, who know how much he had adored Seren, that he had made the trip. The Wild Thunder had been reluctant to leave so soon after Luka's attack but had been settled over the promises and assurances that the twins would be okay for a single day.
Standing at the pyre, he bowed his head, [say]"I'll miss. Thak you for everything, Seren."[/say] His voice hitched on her name, grief choking him. Her friendship and support had been dear to him and Sah could only hope that he had been as good of a friend in turn. The hybrid's fist clenched at his side, wishing to reach out but not wishing to disturb her eternal rest. She had been through enough. It was time for her to have her rest.
As Safrin appeared, Sah stepped back into the crowd to give Seren's family their space. His eyes were misty as he watched silently.