+- 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] sorrow and the sting of smoke (/showthread.php?tid=12385)
sorrow and the sting of smoke - Calla - 01-12-2026
[say]"Mort,"[/say] Calla curses as she gazes on the scene, voice muffled by the swathe of cloth that covers her mouth and nose. Tears swim in her red-rimmed eyes, brought on by sorrow and the sting of smoke that rises from the still-smoldering ashes where the fire burned only hours before. The Barrow is a shadow of its usual glory, verdant green replaced by gray and black and pockets of fire that stubbornly refuse to fully go out. Still, as brushfires go it was far less devastating than it could have been - to human life, at least.
The dead tell a different tale.
It breaks her heart to hear the whispers of the spirits as they drift among the wreckage, here and there starting eddies of wind within the ash. It will be a long time before they settle, and a great deal of work to soothe them down. [say]"Don't worry,"[/say] she promises, kneeling down to brush ash and cinder off the edge of a headstone, trying to keep her voice and emotions steady as the ghost that haunts it whines its frustration. [say]"Fires mean new life will follow. There will be flowers growing here soon."[/say]
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Flora - 01-12-2026
Flora is halfway up one of the higher barrows when the smoke finally thins enough to make breathing feel less like swallowing sand. The climb is graceless, her lungs burning as she pauses to brace a hand against the cool stone and cough hard enough that her eyes water. LongHeat has been cruel everywhere this season, but there is something uniquely miserable about it here, the smoke clinging low and heavy as though the dead themselves are exhaling their displeasure.
[say]"This is revolting,"[/say] she mutters hoarsely to Spice between coughs, waving a hand in front of her face as if that might persuade the air to behave. [say]"I swear, I almost prefer the fires back home."[/say] The little dragon’s chill is a blessing against her throat, but it does nothing for the way the haze muffles sound and bends distance until the barrows seem to loom and multiply, iron doors blinking in and out of view like half-remembered dreams.
It’s only as she straightens, lifting her gaze to orient herself, that she notices someone ahead through the mist. Flora’s complaints die abruptly on her tongue. The figure is kneeling near one of the stones, brushing ash away with a care that doesn’t read as idle curiosity or survey work, and the sight snaps something into place all at once. Heat prickles uncomfortably at Flora’s cheeks as she realises how her voice must have carried in the hush. [say]"Oh—"[/say] she says, softer now, the theatrical edge gone as quickly as it came. One hand lifts in an apologetic little gesture, fingers splayed as if that might undo the interruption. [say]"My bad. I didn’t mean to interrupt."[/say] She clears her throat, still rough, and offers a rueful tilt of her head. [say]"I’ll...give you space."[/say]
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Calla - 01-12-2026
The spirits are still restless, whirling around her head as she kneels in in the ash. [say]"Yes, I know, but I need a minute,"[/say] Calla murmurs in answer, a one-sided conversation still muffled by her mask. She's pulled a rag from the bag she carries, as well as a small bottle of water and soap, and with careful attention she sets to cleaning, brushing soot off the marking stone. Behind her there is a flicker of movement as ash is disrupted and a figure comes closer, but Calla ignores it, assuming it's just another ghost.
But it isn't, and Calla starts as a distinctly living voice cuts through the quiet. Spinning around and rising up, lets the rag dangle limp in her fingers and stares at the stranger, wide-eyed as a doe. [say]"Who--?"[/say] Calla begins, but her voice is of course muffled by the mask on her face. With an abashed grimace she tugs it down, revealing cheeks pink with embarrassment beneath streaks of soot. [say]"I'm sorry, I... I didn't, that is, I thought you were-- um."[/say] Flustered, she reaches with the hand still holding the rag to wipe hair off her face, only realizing at the last moment what a terrible idea this would be. Instead she lets her arm fall once again, licking her lips and wincing slightly at the taste of ash.
[say]"Are you here to visit someone? It may be best to come back later. I'm afraid the ghosts are a little... restless, just now."[/say] Especially the one who flickers just past the stranger's shoulder, clearly displeased that its marker is still unclean.
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Flora - 01-13-2026
Flora blinks at the other woman’s startle, the way she turns as though expecting something else entirely, and for half a breath the timing of it lands wrong in a way that feels uncomfortably familiar (ex-boyfriends, and all that). The corners of her mouth lift anyway, a crooked, easy grin that is more reflex than intention, and she gives a small shake of her head as if to wave off the thought before it can settle. [say]"Just me,"[/say] she says lightly, lifting her fingers in a quick, almost sheepish wave, the Doubletake doing its best to smooth the moment over.
Her gaze follows the gesture toward the stones a second too late, understanding clicking into place only after the words are already out of her mouth. [say]"Oh, no, sorry,"[/say] she adds at once, the apology genuine as she glances around at the barrows, the ash, the quiet weight of the place. [psay]"I wasn’t...I mean, I was just trying to get out of the smoke, actually. It’s so much nicer up here."[/say]
As she speaks, Spice shifts on her shoulder, the little dragon’s attention directed by the flick of Calla's gaze. There’s a twist of her narrow head, a curious little huff, and then a thin breath of frost slips free, drifting harmlessly into the mist behind Flora like a pale ribbon. Flora doesn’t turn, only exhales slowly, rolling her shoulders as if the tension there might finally ease.
[say]"The fires are really something this year,"[/say] she says conversationally, wiping her forehead with the inside of her arm. Her nose wrinkles as she searches her memory, uncertain. [say]"I heard it might have something to do with Tanau? Or—"[/say] She hesitates, tilting her head, unconvinced even by her own words. [say]"Something like that, anyway. I might be completely wrong."[/say]
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Serendipity - 01-13-2026
As you wander along a sun-warmed path, something catches the light at just the right angle, glinting brightly against the stone. Set slightly off the walkway, nestled among pale gravel and heat-baked earth, rests a smooth piece of sunstone.
The stone radiates warmth even without being touched, its golden surface threaded with natural veins that seem to glow softly from within. The air around it feels heavier, saturated with heat, as though the sun itself has paused here for a moment longer than elsewhere.
It looks intentionally placed, not lost — a quiet offering waiting to be noticed by the right eyes.
You've found an offering for Tanau! Whoever is next to post in this thread will be the first one to see the offering, but if they wish to give it to someone else, they're more than welcome! No need to post in account updates, just keep track of this thread for the Longheat SWE!
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Calla - 01-13-2026
[say]"It is,"[/say] Calla agrees absently, though her attention is now on the little dragon and the spirit that dances in its icy breath like water over sand. It's curious now, the Keeper senses, flickering from snout to tail while expressing how in its day dragons were large and ferocious. Calla's lips purse and twist as she bites back the instinct to chide it: she has to remember that she's not alone, there's a person listening in.
Speaking of. Calla's dark eyes flicker back to the pretty stranger, sweeping across the artfully tousled hair, the perfect nose, the rosy lips. A far cry from the Keeper's own disheveled features and soot-smudged skin, and she feels a flutter of embarrassment to think how she must appear to this literal queen. [say]"Maybe,"[/say] she agrees, a little doubtfully. [say]"Whatever it is, the spirits don't like it. Though not as much as- oh!"[/say]
Something gleams in the grey, dead grass, catching Calla's eyes. Distracted, she kneels down and plucks it up, using her rag to wipe away the soot that stains its surface. At once the girl's solemn expression cracks and gives way to wonder; she holds the stone out to the other to see, delighting in its beauty. [say]"Oh, look! What do you think it is?"[/say] Because it's obvious the stone is something, given the attention it's attracting from the curious nearby ghosts.
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Flora - 01-13-2026
[say]"The spirits don’t—?"[/say] Flora starts, a faint crease settling between her brows as she follows Calla’s earlier thought, only for the words to fall away unfinished when the other woman’s attention snaps elsewhere. She shifts instinctively, weight rolling onto her back foot as something catches her eye too, a warm glint against all that grey, and her gaze tracks the movement of Calla’s hand as the stone is lifted free of the ash.
The light is unmistakable even through the smoke, honey-gold and quietly insistent, and Flora’s eyebrows lift in open approval as a smile tugs at her mouth. [say]"Ooh. Pretty,"[/say] she says, the sound soft but genuine, eyes lingering on the way it seems to hold the sun inside itself despite everything around them being scorched and dulled.
She tilts her head, considering it, then shrugs one shoulder in an easy, unbothered motion. [say]"If it doesn’t belong to one of the shrines, maybe it’s an offering,"[/say] she suggests lightly, gaze flicking from the stone to the barrows around them. Her eyes narrow as she peers through the mist and smoke, scanning the uneven rise and fall of the hills. [say]"There’s a shrine to Safrin around here somewhere, I think,"[/say] she adds, sounding only moderately confident. [say]"Though I always get turned around in these hills, so don’t quote me on that."[/say]
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Calla - 01-14-2026
Pretty indeed; Calla is enchanted by the stone, the way it seems to reflect shafts of sunlight despite the post-fire haze. [Say]"It's warm,"[/say] she notes with some surprise, eyebrows rising as she runs her fingers over its radiant surface. [Say]"Maybe residual heat from the fire? But it looks like a sunstone, and they'd only stay warm for minutes..."[/say] She trails off, musing, her love of stones
It could be an offering to a god, she nods in agreement. Calla's eyes flick back up; she follows Flora's gaze as she peers into the smoke, though she needs not look to know her way. [Say]"Southeast, past the next barrow mound and around the copse of firs, then up an incline. "[/say] It's said with the easy confidence of someone who grew up walking these hills. Looking back to Flora, she bites her lower lip. [Say]"Do you think we should take it there? I can show you the way, once I'm done here?"[/say] Nervous and earnest, she waits for a response, not sure what would be worse - rejection, or the inevitability of embarrassing herself as she tries valiantly to seem chill.
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Flora - 01-15-2026
Flora’s smile lingers as Calla turns the stone in her hands, warmth and wonder radiating off her just as clearly as the sunstone itself. She gives a small, self-aware shake of her head, curls slipping loose around her face as she lifts her hands in gentle surrender. [say]"You’re already miles ahead of me,"[/say] she admits easily. [say]"I know absolutely nothing about rocks."[/say] Her gaze drifts back to the glow, thoughtful rather than dismissive. [say]"Though if something like that holds heat, it feels like it would be way more useful in a place like Halo than here. This place has plenty of warmth to spare right now."[/say]
Calla’s precise directions draw a grin from her, unmistakably amused, and Flora lets out a quiet laugh through her nose; clearly this woman was a local, then. [say]"Yeah, for sure, we could take it there."[/say] Her eyes flick briefly back to the space around them, the barrows scattered and silent beneath the smoke. [say]"I just...how did it end up so far away if that’s where it started?"[/say] she wonders, more musing than suspicious, before giving another thoughtful shrug as if the mystery might simply belong to the place.
She glances around again, brow lifting slightly as her attention returns to Calla, curiosity finally finding its voice. [say]"Soo...if you aren’t visiting anyone,"[/say] she asks lightly, careful not to pry too hard, or imply something offensive, [say]"do you, like, take care of the graves? Or...?"[/say]
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Calla - 01-18-2026
It would make more sense in Halo, although Calla isn't too bothered by this discrepancy. She's found a great many out-of-place rocks here, often left behind as offerings to the dead or carved into tombstones for those who sought to give their loved ones a more unique place to rest.
As for how it got there? Calla shrugs, warming visibly under the glow of Flora's easy grin. [say]"An animal might have brought it - cloud wyrms love anything shiny, and dream birds have been known to add interesting rocks to their nests."[/say] Perhaps a creature had been carrying home their newfound treasure when they came across the fire, dropping it when smoke touched their lungs and caused them to adjust their course.
She's tucked the stone into her bag and kneels again into the ashes, setting back to the task of cleaning off the grave. It's a task she'd usually spend a good deal of time on, but now her movements are practiced and hurried - she doesn't want to keep her new companion waiting for too long. [say]"Hmm?"[/say] comes the distracted response to Flora's question, followed by a warm, [say]"Oh, yes. I'm an appren--"[/say] She stops, catching herself as she stumbles on the word like a well-worn step, the mistake as oft-repeated as it is unavoidable. Casting her eyes back to her work, the girl swallows down a knot of grief before pushing on. [say]"I mean, I'm a Keeper. Barrows Keeper. Calla- that's my name."[/say]
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Flora - 01-19-2026
Flora’s brows lift, slow and appraising, as the explanation settles into place. [say]"Ohhh,"[/say] she says, the sound drawn out, amused, nodding once as if the hills themselves have just been vindicated. [say]"Yeah, okay, that makes sense."[/say] One corner of her mouth quirks as she adds, [say]"Back in Torchline, the Hels will grab absolutely anything that catches the light, and if they can’t eat it they just...drop it. Usually on someone’s roof. Or head."[/say]
Her gaze flicks back to Calla as the woman speaks, catches the stumble mid-word without missing it, the way the sentence adjusts around something heavier than it lets on. Flora doesn’t comment on it outright, but the smile that curves her mouth is a little softer for it, less showy, more real. [say]"I'm Flora,"[/say] she offers simply in return, tipping her head.
Her eyes drift again, this time taking in the barrows properly; how they roll and repeat and disappear into the haze, how the smoke bends distance until the whole place feels endless and closed-in all at once. She exhales through her nose, slow, thoughtful, before looking back. [say]"That’s..."[/say] A pause, not for drama, just for scale. [say]"That’s huge, there's so much ground here. And it's just you?"[/say]
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Calla - 01-22-2026
Calla's eyes widen in rapt fascination, a small giggle bubbling from between her lips at the image of mischevious hels. [Say]"Is it true they can make people walk on water, but only if they dance for them first?"[/say] It's a rumor she'd heard from visiting smugglers, though it seems absurd - surely nothing could actually allow someone to walk on water.
She takes Flora's name with another shy smile, rolling it around in her thoughts, It's very pretty, she thinks, and thus suits the woman, who herself is the type of gorgeous Calla can only dream about. It's familiar, too, thought she can't quite place why. She tucks this feeling away to percolate somewhere in the back of her mind, turning back to the task at hand.
The question that follows sends a pang through Calla's gut; she casts her eyes back down, trying to keep her expression from faltering. [Say]"Oh, um, well, there are some others from the village who help. And usually Keepers will take an apprentice, but I've only been Keeper for a few seasons, so..."[/say] She rises as she trails off, shrugging slender shoulders. Then she brightens a shade and adds: [Say]"And I have Lucifer!"[/say]
Tilting her head back to Flora, Calla wonders, [say]"What about you? What do you do? Something glamorous, I bet."[/say]
RE: sorrow and the sting of smoke - Flora - 01-29-2026
Flora laughs outright at that, the sound slipping free before she can stop it, head lolling side to side in a loose, ehhh, kind of motion. [say]"Sort of,"[/say] she says, already grinning. [say]"You can walk on water as long as the Hel stays on your shoulder, but the second they get bored and take off—"[/say] She flicks her hand downward in a decisive little plunge. [say]"In you go."[/say] A shrug follows, easy and unconcerned. [say]"Dancing might work if you’re out of food to bribe them with."[/say]
She listens as Calla talks, eyes tracking the way her gaze drops, the careful phrasing, the way the sentence keeps finding softer ground to land on. When Flora speaks again, it’s immediate, bright, and encouraging. [say]"Welllllll, it all looks amazing around here, so you must be absolutely killing it—"[/say] She stops short, lips pressing together as her eyes flick to the barrows stretching out around them, realizing what an awkward choice of words that was all things considered.
Her head tips as Calla adds the last part, Flora glancing around instinctively, brows lifting. [say]"Lucifer?"[/say] She squints into the haze, clearly expecting someone else to materialise.
When the question turns on her, Flora laughs again, this time more self-aware, waving a hand as if to bat it away. [say]"Oh, no,"[/say] she says, and then, with comedic timing, [say]"I’m the Queen of Torchline."[/say] She immediately lifts a finger, pre-empting whatever expression is about to cross Calla’s face. [say]"Absolutely not as glamorous as it sounds,"[/say] she adds, already laughing at herself. [say]"I promise."[/say]
Glancing up toward where the shrine ought to be, Flora nods her head in that direction. [say]"Come on, let's go check it out. See if any suspicious offering-shaped holes are missing on the altar."[/say]
~FIN