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my ashes became steel - Melita - 11-26-2019
The girl thought about catching and destroying monsters. She thought about the demons lurking beneath their very noses. She thought about the way the earth twisted, turned, and distorted anything and everything, made her blind to parallels, to true intentions beneath pretenses and layers. She thought about the stretch of sun across her nose and along her back, and how she’d yearned to wallow in it, instead of every other little nuance invading her mind.
So instead, she settled along one of the long boughs and branches elongated over the labyrinth wall, glancing at its extension, how it seemed to bloom and riddle itself amongst the maze without being a part of it at all. Maybe it was like her, unafraid and unassuming until it was too late, and the world would swallow it whole in time. Fangorn hissed from a thicker part of the branch as she kicked her feet back and forth, savored the apple in her hands, the crunch to her teeth, the juice trickling down her hand. Maybe Melita would just stay here for a lifetime, watching and waiting for infidels and heathens to come roaring out, seek to obliterate them before they had a chance to do the same for others. Maybe she wouldn’t; because she’d failed time and time again at orchestrating those values too. Maybe she’d be absorbed into the sky, into the loam, and no one would be the wiser, save for a little vampire gourd. The aforementioned beast gave another growl, and she rolled her eyes, tossing him the core.
RE: my ashes became steel - Kaimana - 11-26-2019
One of the things you've observed about the people here is that they rather like being in trees.
Which is a sentiment you can get behind, personally. Trees make great places to observe from, and you can often be found among their boughs.
Not today, though. Today you are on the ground, wandering through a labyrinth, utterly and intentionally lost. There is something about this place that leaves you unsettled, a weird combination between nature and structure that makes the back of your neck itch a bit. No plants grow in such straight lines and such a measured pattern, but as far as you've been able to tell no one seems to maintain it. So what keeps entropy from taking over, chaos and nature from reigning supreme?
It's not a question you've been able to answer yet. Beneath Melita's branch you pause, unaware of the girl above, distracted by something on the ground. A squirrel sits on the grass, peering up at you through beedy little eyes. [Say]"Hullo!"[/say] you greet it cheerfully, reaching out a hand in attempt to entice it up your arm. [Say]"D'ya know who maintains this labyrinth?"[/say]
RE: my ashes became steel - Melita - 11-26-2019
There was another moving and maneuvering about the maze; not the first time, nor the last, she’d stumbled upon someone there. One hour it’d been Phoebe, striving to maintain strength and courage in the face of potential treachery and lethality. Her gilded gaze caught the unfamiliar head of hair though, and found she had no idea who the individual was – uncertain if she should call to him from her branches and brambles, or if she should’ve left well enough alone, gaze floating to her weapons lying along the inclining trunk.
The curious intonation and greeting though, not reserved for her, but towards a nearby squirrel, gave her the notion that perhaps munitions wouldn’t be required. She gave into silence while still swinging her feet, pondering, pondering, pondering, if she should’ve answered in space of the rodent, or simply remained in hushed platitudes. Unfortunately for her, further inquiry debated and wanted to know if he could actually discuss such matters with squirrels.
Did someone actually maintain the labyrinth? It seemed unlikely; for whatever purpose the warren had been concocted and created for, it had long since lost any essence of support or preservation, left to fend for itself, twisting and turning, misshapen and wreaking havoc, in possession of many wonderful, terrible things. Maybe that’d been the point, to leave it to its own devices, to allow it to fester and decay, to permit the rest of the world to venture into its wake and be swallowed by its merciless, unrelenting, unseen fangs.
She shrugged from her bough, suddenly restless. Fangorn uttered a low growl, the slightest of reverberations, and the youth made a pointed effort not to look at the stranger down below, instead a quiet voice mustered from her vocals, as if made from the wind. [say]“I’m not sure if anyone does.”[/say]
RE: my ashes became steel - Kaimana - 11-26-2019
The squirrel shakes its bushy tail and seems to hesitate a moment before giving in, scampering incautiously onto your outstretched hand. 'Follow me!' it chirps unhelpfully, investigating your fingers for hidden treats before making its way up your arm.
Still squatting on the ground you almost don't hear the soft voice, as gentle as the wind. Surprised, you glance up, eliciting a squeak of Indignation from the rodent on your shoulder. Craning your neck you turn to see who spoke, your eyes widening as you spot her: a girl, red haired and long legged. S
he isn't looking at you, though.
So you don't look at her.
Standing slowly, you take a step toward the encroaching hedge, hmm'ing thoughtfully and reaching out to gently stroke a thorn as long as your hand. [Say]"So the people who tamed it forgot."[/say] Your voice is light, too, and you might as well be talking to the squirrel. [Say]"And now it's forgettin' how to be tame. D'ya think it's happier, bein' left to grow wild?"[/say]
RE: my ashes became steel - Melita - 11-26-2019
Nymph-like, she pondered, only snorting softly when the squirrel squeaked, eyes only drifting towards the unknown – both stranger and snarled, tangled jungle, as they wandered closer to its midst. Melita had no real answers for him, no matter how much contemplation had gone into it. At times this world was defiant in granting solutions or remedies, caught in their woes, trials, tribulations, or the air of enigmatic qualities, leaving jumbles of confusion simply out of amusement. Sometimes that was how she viewed the deities themselves; capable of answering anything at all, and choosing not to, either by whim, caprice, or anything else entangled, embroiled, in their minds.
To him though, her voice curled along the ether, legs catching the brief snippets of breeze, creating their own gusts as they maneuvered along the void, her anklet and its surrounding charms conducting their own orchestra of soft, dulcet aplomb. [say]“Perhaps.”[/say] After all, she enjoyed being wild and free; but no one had ever bothered to confine her. No one had ever thought to extinguish the beams of light, radiance, and audacity in her bones. No one had ever managed to disconcert her long enough to catch her before impulse, before effervescence, before treachery, lingered in her breath, in her wake, in her vestiges. [say]“There’s always an element of danger in remaining untamed.”[/say] Maybe the labyrinth had its own webs and machinations, plants concocting to become wiry, gnarled, mangled things, so the rest of the land, the kingdom, avoided it. She spoke from experience – in watching shadows, in tracing lines, in embodying those same damned mannerisms so her family, so she, could survive. Her gaze did manage to pinpoint upon him again, but perhaps it didn’t matter now, the moments and elements passed.
RE: my ashes became steel - Kaimana - 12-02-2019
The thorn is sharp; as you edge your finger over the top a small pool of crimson blood appears, little by way of contact required to break your thin, think skin. Still, you somehow seem surprised, exclaiming [say]"Ouch!"[/say] and popping your finger into your mouth. Was it always spiky? Or are the thorns new, another adaptation into wildness, a sign the Labyrinth would rather not be tamed, thanks all the same?
[say]"There's a little danger in everythin',"[/say] you remark in reply, the girl's voice still carrying like snowflakes on the breeze. [say]"That's how evolution happens, an' adaptation- stressors and dangers causin' things to change, or else they die."[/say] The squirrel on your head seems unconvinced by your assessment, looking up at the girl and chirping some nonsense as though to say what is he even going on about?
You still don't look at her, and your lack of eye contact, your quiet body language- it answers the question to an extent, but still you feel compelled to ask, a little playfulness in your tone. [say]"Are you a wild thing, or a tame one?"[/say]
RE: my ashes became steel - Melita - 12-02-2019
Her eyes riveted back to his form as he dragged his finger over a thorn, quirking her head in a decree of uncertainty, not fully understanding why he would try that – the injury there was a result. A modicum of concern unfurled, and were she not in a tree she might have asked, might have wondered further; but then he continued on, as if nothing had occurred, no worse for wear.
She didn’t know anything about evolution; but she could fathom the notions of adapting, of changing, of altering because of danger and treachery. Perhaps she would’ve been the same emboldened, audacious child, had the world not fallen apart – less treacherous, less disastrous, capable of holding onto the entanglements of innocence, letting them last for as long as possible. [say]“I suppose,”[/say] she sing-songed, head bobbing in agreement, her gaze trailing over the ethers of the gnarled, derisive roots and vines, things morphed because the environment, the world, dictated it. Her glance did go briefly to the squirrel too, light laughter ringing through the eaves, the bough she sat within, warm giggles meant to encourage rather than admonish.
A wild thing or a tame one; her smile was bright and ebullient, a twist and turn of things she could’ve been. Tame – maybe once, given the opportunity, had she have stayed in her mother’s grasp long enough to treasure herbs or sing in shrouds of wildflowers. Likely more adept to the wilderness now though, at times savage and unhinged, desperate to convey protection in brutality, violence and vehemence, trying, trying, trying. [say]“Wild, probably.”[/say] She paused, a shrug in her movements and motions, undulating its way through the branch. [say]“What about you?” [/say]
RE: my ashes became steel - Kaimana - 12-03-2019
Her laughter warms you in surprising ways, making you grin in turn, a heat to your freckled cheeks. Desperately you want to look up at her, to see if she will reflect the warmth, if she's impressed by your weird, weird behavioral display. [Say]"Wild,"[/say] you agree with something akin to pride, believing it for a moment. [Say]"D'ya think that makes us dangerous?"[/say]
(Kiddo, the most dangerous thing about you is how painfully little you understand about the world, while somehow still being the better adjusted twin.)
Luckily you become distracted by the much safer topic of the possibly deadly plant maze. [Say]"I wonder if it's a hive mind. Or like a fungus- c'nnected by a common root system."[/say] Again you put your fingers into the boughs of the Labyrinth, this time plucking off a leaf and holding it close up to your face so you might better inspect it. From its precarious position on your head the squirrel leans forward, trying to figure out whether or not it's food. [Say]"Even wild things need some sorta system to exist in."[/say]
RE: my ashes became steel - Melita - 12-03-2019
The girl wasn’t certain on how to answer him at first. She would’ve liked to have been dangerous, treacherous, feared at some intervals in her life, when she rushed into maelstroms and melees, when she pushed and defied, when she unraveled in a seditious spread, when monsters came crawling and all she’d ever wanted to do was defend. So the wicked contortions to her, the kind that twisted and turned, that gnashed in her irreverence, in her revolutionary spirals, curled like her hair against her skin, pushed across the surface of her tongue, behind her teeth. [say]“Yes!”[/say] Dipped in triumph, as if it were something to become enthralled in – heathen, savage, nefarious tendencies, as if the world might hold itself at bay, afraid and apprehensive of their motives and agendas (never; the wind seemed to say, nothing put off the laws of the lands, the gods’ hands). Her eyes flicked back to him, wondering what portions of him were coated, lacquered, or enameled in precariousness; or if it was just a dream, like hers.
Then the gilded gaze lifted back to the labyrinth, over the distance and expanse that she could glance over – the high-rising hedges she’d once explored with Phoebe because the other girl had wanted to challenge herself and Melita had always dared a little too much. She’d never thought of its creation or contortions, why it existed, how it existed, just there like so many other ancient ruins, pieces and portions of legends, of pasts, she’d yet to uncover. [say]“I wonder why it’s here.”[/say] On the airs of speculation, tipping her head, the warmth still on her breath, gliding along the bestial, enigmatic, eerie void. What was the purpose? Who’d created it? Why did it exist? Did it house or hide something, deeper and deeper into the warren?
And then the inspiration coiled over her toes, and she grabbed hold of her weapons leaning against the trunk, placing them in her bag slung over her shoulder, Fangorn in one arm, maneuvering until she dangled from her branch, and then leapt the rest of the way. What it lacked in elegance and finesse, the descent made up for in her devilish smile. [say]“Do you want to go in?”[/say]
RE: my ashes became steel - Kaimana - 12-03-2019
You like her passionate exclamation, even if you maybe cannot bring yourself to mirror it. Oh, you know that humans are the ultimate apex predator, you could take on the world, blah blah blah, but when it comes to being really dangerous? That just isn't you.
It's a good thing, then, that you're very good at playing pretend.
[Say]"Me too,"[/say] surges from your lips- and then, impassioned, it comes again. [Say]"Me too!"[/say] What is the Labyrinth doing here? It can't be anything but intentional, but if it is then why hasn't it completely devolved without attention? You're so caught up in your pondering and discovery (the leaf now placed inside your mouth) that you fail to notice the girl jump down until she is behind you, all bright hair and bright smiles and eager, flashing eyes.
You, on the other hand, are incredibly awkward. Spinning around in surprise, it's a wonder you don't back into the bushes. [Say]"Oh!"[/say] The squirrel squeaks an echoed ptotest, hopping off your head to vanish back into the bush. Beneath your freckles your face is hot, the surprise still flush upon it as your lips split into a grin, a jumble of words cascading from your mouth. [Say]"You came down from your tree. Hello! I do wanna go. Do you? I'm Kai. Your hair is a nice color. Like a maple tree!"[/say]
Smoooooooth.
RE: my ashes became steel - Melita - 12-04-2019
Excitement and ebullience, things she might’ve coaxed along sea beds and waves over portions of glass, when she’d dove headfirst into the Dragon’s Throat oasis, rising up as a monster, or spelunking into a cave, desperate to see what was in store – avid reflections here, upon this stranger with leaves in his mouth and impassioned exclamations. They might’ve been a match in pure foolishness, and she didn’t care, yearning to stretch her legs, her limbs, her arms, her weapons, her motives, commit to anything but wallowing and grieving things she’d lost along the way.
The squirrel left, and while Fangorn thought about joining, a muffled protest surging from a growl, she can inspect him a bit more fully now – not someone she recognized at all, curly hair and freckles, youthful abandonment she would’ve remembered, recalled. [say]“Hello!”[/say] She laughed, down from her tree, a pedestal, a paragon, she didn’t need to return to for the moment, eyes glancing away from him and onto the labyrinth for a second. [say]“I do. I think we should.”[/say] And if there was too much mischief conveyed in her eyes, all the better, devilish declarations and challenges searing beneath her flesh – no need to coax, Kai just as willing. [say]“I’m Melita!”[/say] And she extended her hand that wasn’t full of her staff, or the quiver laden and bounding against her back as she maneuvered, laughing at the comment about her hair. She’d never heard it described that way. More often than not she didn’t even brush it. Then she skipped and bounded for the entrance, [say]“Thanks,”[/say] on her lips, on a giggle, on ethers of movement and motion, constantly maneuvering along trials and potential tribulations, the air of danger on the horizon. [say]“Are you ready?”[/say]
RE: my ashes became steel - Kaimana - 12-04-2019
At least she's still enthusiastic, after your little outburst. You grin as she offers out her hand, reaching to take it in your own and shake it vigorously as you have (perhaps mistakenly) learned is appropriate. She has a whole collection of various things in her other arm, including a pumpkin, which you would like to stop and ask about but she's already bounding away, headed toward the entrance without a bit of fear.
So of course, you follow along.
Your bare feet crunch in the rich spring grass as you set off in pursuit of Melita, doing your best to take in absolutely everything without losing track of your companion. [say]"D'ya think we can find the middle? Whaddya think is there? Maybe we can learn who made it."[/say]
It is almost no time before hedges are high enough to cut off almost all the sunlight, far more gnarled within than without. Slowly you find yourself drawing to a stop, looking wide-eyed at the wild and wonderful thing. [say]"Wow... it's so old, but still full'a new growth. An' it seems... I dunno, more sentient than most plants."[/say]
RE: my ashes became steel - Melita - 12-05-2019
A vigorous handshake followed by warm laughter rang from her throat; days stretching beyond despair and sorrow, potential danger, were exactly what she required, leaping straight into the clutches of foretold doom and disaster one of her favorite activities. When they neared the entrance, she placed Fangorn down, allowed him to inspect the roots and stumps, the granules of collected moss and woven fibers of earth intertwining along the ground. She hastened and pursued, towards the left, taking a different direction than all her other ventures, eager to taste, to relish, in the flurry of possibilities, the stretch of ominous, foreboding incantations clambering over her skin, and gods, she didn’t care.
She glanced over her shoulder, over her quiver, over the lacquered lines of the staff pulsing in her hand, back to Kai, the inquiries coming and her devilish smile imploring. [say]“I think we should try!”[/say] If her grin could be anymore irreverent, they might’ve been damned and consigned from the start. [say]“Maybe treasure! Or some ancient thing!”[/say] The speculation could’ve been wild and savage too – her eyes drifting to the high hedges, to the overgrown grove, to the arching ridges of things that were neither sanctity nor abolished ruin. Into the darkness, into the surge of nothing, like a rolling abyss, and gathered to protect what?. Perhaps she should’ve just hoped they found something that wouldn’t try to swallow, devour, and consume them whole.
Melita listened to more of his musings as she hastened along more twists and turns, humming an indistinct tune, one her sister might’ve warbled amongst daffodils, amongst thistles, amongst things made of peace and repose; not in a world of sedition and vehemence. [say]“What do you mean?”[/say] She wondered aloud; that the plants here were more than just collections of things stretching towards the sun? Did he perceive them as thinking individuals and inhabitants, just like them?
RE: my ashes became steel - Kaimana - 12-05-2019
[say]"I think this is an ancient thing,"[/say] you remark a little absently, still utterly captivated by the gnarled, reaching, whispering hedges. Eyes upturned as you wander deeper, you find yourself spinning around a little, trying to take it all in at once. If only you were a prey animal with monocular vision you would be able to see a wider angle! To observe more carefully and thoroughly all that's around you.
Maybe that way you wouldn't keep getting separated from the girls you go adventuring with.
For someone who makes many rapid movements, you never really hurry. You're just too perpetually distracted, always stopping to investigate what catches your eye, always wanting to learn about everything. Reaching out with your magic, you begin coaxing one of the newer leaf buds into view while answering Melita's question thoughtfully. [say]"Well, all livin' things are driven by their biologic needs. Food an' reproduction an' stuff. But the simpler ones - like plants - don't really make decisions 'bout it. That takes a little bit'a sentience."[/say]
Of course, you haven't been paying attention to the girl who drifts further and further into the Labyrinth. Coming out of your thoughtful reverie at last you turn to face her, only to find... nothing. There is no sign of the girl with maple-bark hair, whether because she has slipped around a corner or because the bushes are conspiring to separate the pair of you. [say]"Melita?"[/say] you call out, furrowing your brows. [say]"Didja go in deeper?"[/say]