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+---- Thread: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface (/showthread.php?tid=2160)
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[seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Melita - 11-11-2019
Sometimes the honeybee girl just needed reminders that she was free.
The anklet bangles and charms jingled against her skin as she wandered out into the midst of the Oasis, as she lifted her arms and spun, as she drifted in the glorious singsong of swallows and sparrows, glorious havens beneath the wake of the sun – laughing, giggling, racing, then pacing along onslaught after onslaught. Her movements were light and airy, ethereal, as if she’d been one of the fey when she’d been so far from it; not as graceful, not as poised, not as powerful, no wings, no immortality. But oh, she could live.
Fangorn growled and hissed from the embankment, and so she followed the trails and lines, eyes catching movements of mud again, giggling when the vampire gourd snarled at their incoming endeavors. [say]“Perfectly harmless,”[/say] she whispered, like an oath of assurance to either pumpkin companion or the muck itself, poking and prodding at the assemblage of earthen loam and soil. She took hold of some in her hand, tossing it high into the air, watching it descend and cascade, catching it again, holding it to the light, to the solar rays, before bringing it back down to her palms, allowing the mire to settle into her sanction.
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Oia'i'o - 11-12-2019
[say] "No it isn't."[/say]
You've been sitting so long that you're nearly entirely mud at this point. Most of it is magic, but the memory mud has been more than happy to cover your every pore as you seem to retreat into the environment. Only your eyes remain vaguely human, and now your lips as well as you correct the strange girl.
[say]"Memory mud can be quite dangerous given the right circumstances."[/say] You add, thinking you're being quite helpful.
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Melita - 11-12-2019
She fought the urge to not jump out of her skin as the mud maneuvered, made noises, became human. Instead, the blood within her veins bounded and leapt, accord with adrenaline, with living, breathing, beating pulses, fingers and hands trembling for a weapon when it wasn’t necessary. Her breath came out in quickened inhales, nares flaring for an instant – before reality sunk in, and that this was some other eldritch thing, but not coming to smother or condemn her. Still, she held Fangorn a little tighter.
The vague comment was enough to pull her out of the startled adornments and containments, swallowing down the vestiges of fear and trepidation. Memory mud – dangerous? She hadn’t seen it yet, but then again, she’d only played and taunted and planted; recalling its cousin draped in monstrous snow. Curiosity remained entangled, unleashed. [say]“Oh?”[/say] A genuine smile appeared along her face, a tilt to her head, fingers running along the vampire gourd’s skin; a growl, a rumble in reply, even though she was talking to someone encased, draped, and smothered in muck. [say]“What can it do?”[/say]
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Oia'i'o - 11-13-2019
[say]"Many things. It has many of the properties of memory snow. Despite its lack of sentience it does seem to display a mischievous streak. Many who fall alseep outside will find the mud clogging their throats and noses."[/say] You raise one of your arms (causing a good deal of moss and mud to fall away as your magic breaks its hold), to point towards your face where indeed, the mud steadily seems to be moving towards your mouth.
[say]"Freeze."[/say] You tell it, and as if it is listening to your command, the mud ceases all creeping towards your throat.
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Melita - 11-13-2019
She listened, enamored by the description, eyes falling to the puddles of mud. They suddenly sounded like something orchestrated in the Rift, dangerous and ridiculous, no rest for the wicked and weary, even something as simple as mud and muck to be feared. Her eyes rounded at the notions, then lifted back up to the sky, thinking, plotting, meandering along the surface of those ruminations – when the fellow creature seemed to test it upon herself.
The honeybee girl watched again, utterly fascinated – the mud crawling along her throat, as if to do just as she’d reported, chronicled, and detailed, and for an instant Melita wondered if the stranger was merely going to permit it to happen. And then, the command beckoned from her throat, and the muck did as she bid, freezing, desisting, merely there. [say]“Wow,”[/say] she whispered, suitably impressed, grinning from ear to ear. [say]“You can control it?”[/say] Perhaps she had magic, directed from the earth, channeled from the surface, from the ground, from the loam.
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Oia'i'o - 11-21-2019
[say]"No."[/say] You correct. [say]"I can freeze time in localized areas. It hasn't so much stopped, as there is no temporal space within which it currently has the capacity to move."[/say]
Glancing towards Melita, her gourd unhappily in her arms, you raise your eyes slightly. [say]"Vampire Gourds are rarely found as companions."[/say] You note your voice studious and without emotion. [say]"Was it through happenstance or some trial that you came to be bound to such a creature?"[/say]
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Melita - 11-21-2019
Freezing time was just as impressive to the honeybee child as controlling or contorting the earth. [say]“Amazing!”[/say] She murmured, the excitement and enticement still there, a smile lilting on her face, waiting for anything else to be signified or happen.
Out of the locked quarters of apprehension and consternation, her hold on Fangorn loosened, and the gourd grumbled his contentment, purring against her hands, asking for scratches. She didn’t expect him to become a segment of study, despite constant inquiries about him – mostly because they were seen as pests along autumn, an irritation threatening to gnaw at ankles and irritate the general public. [say]“Fangorn was one of the last ones to survive a previous Leafchange.”[/say] She paused, applying the generous scratches across the top of his ghoulish head. [say]“I offered him some food, and he stayed with me.”[/say]
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Oia'i'o - 11-29-2019
[say] “Not really.“[/say] You reply with a shak,e of your head. Nothing is amazing when properly understood, your magic least of which.
As the gourd shifts in the arms of the girl, your blue stare lowers becoming entirely focused upon the rotund creature. [say] “Last?”[/say] You repeat. From somewhere deep in our memory you think of harvests, you think of great spikes that swallow pumpkins whole and spit out their innards on the other side. You think of the smell of spice and mincemeat , and there within is the underlaying feeling of demise for the cradled creature.
[say] “Food is quite a good motivator.”[/say] You agree, giving the small creature a curious nod.
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Melita - 11-30-2019
Melita shrugged; not particularly caring if the other didn’t share her opinion. Maybe because she didn’t contain any, the youth always found any artistic credence of incantations or enchantments fascinating, completely out of her realm, out of her reach. So she often bound herself to becoming enthralled, luminescent, when others deigned to use them in her sight – only the mildest of envy surging in her veins.
But the woman’s eyes had gone back to Fangorn, and though he didn’t squirm under her gaze, there was an essence of calm spread over him. [say]“Every Leafchange they come out, and most of the time they’re not much of a bother. But people use and destroy them.”[/say] She shrugged again, as guilty in the first cycle of autumn, where they’d kicked the tidal waves of ankle-biters into makeshift goalposts or roasted them on spits, the intoxicating aroma of pumpkin sinking into pastries and delicious dishes. Melita hadn’t done any of those things since acquiring Fangorn – save for the incident with the bloat-filled pumpkin king, but he’d been destined to destroy the Greatwood, to spread his might and malice into its threshold, and the consternation had given way there to other searing, seething emotions.
The gourd nodded in return. The girl’s gaze went back to the stranger. [say]“Do you have a companion?”[/say]
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Oia'i'o - 12-08-2019
[say] “It has become a rather strange ritual.”[/say] You agree. [say] “There are few others I can think of where semi-sentient creatures are disposed of quite so cheerfully.”[/say] There are many instances of pest-eradication that take place annually or semi-annualy in the world, but the amount of joy that accompanies the rejection of the gourds has always been a bit staggering.
[say] “No. Though I do have a twin. That is almost the same.”[/say] This is, in fact, a joke. In response, you smile widely and look for a moment almost pretty before the gesture just looks awkward and strained (Kai has taught you how to smile, though you lack the nuances of it).
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Melita - 12-09-2019
Strange rituals indeed; perhaps amongst the oddest, considering all the other things, events, and experiences Melita could recall, remember, over the year she’d spent along Caido’s lines and thresholds. [say]“I wonder how it started,”[/say] she laughed, but it sounded a little broken, a little sad, a little weary, of all the doomed vegetables before. [say]“If someone simply grew tired of them one day, and brought a call to action.”[/say] She shrugged; absent-mindedly scratching Fangorn’s head again until the gourd purred.
But instead of a companion, Melita found the stranger and her had another thing in common. [say]“Oh, a twin!”[/say] Her smile became resplendent again, for an instant; recollections of bonds, of stumbling through wildflower fields and crowns made of blossoms, laughing, giggling, a collective gasp and grasp of merriment, mirth, and delight; Clementine forever the better half of her soul. Her eyes flickered back to the other, not even put off by the strained grin – as if it were on trial, uncertain of where to go or what to do – perfecting her own radiant aplomb. [say]“I have – had – one too.”[/say] And then it fizzled and died on that last set of intonations, settling back into a quiet assemblage; gaze on the ground, a tilt of her head before remarking upon anything else. [say]“What are they like?”[/say]
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Oia'i'o - 12-19-2019
[say]"Could be. Human-animals tend to care very little for upsetting ecosystems when they find them to be inconvenient."[/say] You reply, shrugging your shoulders in agreement.
Watching the way Melita's face lit up (studying it, rather, for all the subtle signs that Kai has told you to look for), you judge that something you have said has made her happy/joyful/excited/pleased, though you've no idea which. Hearing that Melita's has—had—a twin, isn't so surprising. [say]"Many here have lost their twin. I have not met an outlander yet whose twin has come through. It is my suspicion that the Voice is keeping them somewhere and running simultaneous experiments."[/say] It's what you would do, after all.
[say]"He posses masculine features, is shorter than me, and talks more than I do."[/say] You reply, unsure how to properly answer this question.
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Melita - 12-20-2019
The truth of the sentiment only caused the slightest frown; humans and their derivations of wants, needs, and cravings, desires manifested into greedy conundrums that only served themselves. How many times had she been at the same faultlines, staring across expanses, leaping and bounding without a care in the world? With no thought to repercussions? With no agony to surmise until far, far later, when it was too late? The inward flinch was enough, her fingers tapping lightly on Fangorn’s ridges, the gourd purring at the pats.
The nature of twins and their discordancy was intriguing and interesting too – the girl wasn’t aware of how many other siblings had been lost in the intertwining of portals, in the shifting of too many other lands, worlds, and kingdoms. It made sense in a way, the Voice’s manipulations not casting to just anyone and everyone, taking and snagging where she could, separating, parting, devastating bloodlines and ties. No care or thought there either – just doing, just orchestrating, means to ends. [say]“Mine died,”[/say] was all she could muster in the end – no experiment there, no testing or trial except for Melita’s own tribulations, miseries, and defeats. Another one of the Rift’s casualties. Another one she couldn’t save. Maybe it was fine then, so that dear, sweet Clementine wasn’t exposed to harsher outlines of this realm either. The rumination caused her to shudder, furrow her brow, entirely too cold.
She sighed and fixed the error, the flaw, in her machinations, tilting her head to study the other girl for a moment, warm, sundry smile reappearing, deciding on relegated features, if she ever came upon meeting the twin. [say]“What do you guys like to do?”[/say] Twins and their bonds, their relations, those ties that couldn’t be broken or shattered – until there was just one.
RE: [seasonal event] drew herself to the surface - Oia'i'o - 12-23-2019
[say]"As long as they didn't die here, it doesn't matter. The Voice can pull those who are dead into this place as well."[/say] You say with an easy shrug, not fully comprehending what this might do to one missing their sibling.
[say]"Experiments."[/say] You reply instantly, a smile appearing on your lips for a second before seemingly thinking better of it. [say]"I can stop time and Kai can animate things. Together we can test all sorts of muscle responses and internal mechanics of creatures without them feeling pain or even knowing anything is happening."[/say] It sounds horrific, but you seem genuinely pleased about it.