[SE] a muddle of mud

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

Aithne does not consider herself to be a particularly selfless person, but even she has to admit that all the mud is getting old. That might be why she finds herself up to her calves in a puddle, covered in splotches of memory mud that jiggles and wiggles against her skin. She holds a shovel in her hands and an expression of disgust on her face, but she's doing her best to help.

The Last Whisper has quickly become her favorite part of the Grounds. A poorly kept secret, it's hidden down a flight of old stone steps - but being tucked away beneath ground level means an influx of mud. And if Aithne is going to spend time down here, then she might as well clean it up a bit first.

It's dark and hazy, even at midday, the dim lighting of the row made worse by the overcast sky and the rain that won't stop falling. At least they're somewhat sheltered from the worse of the downpour, although the mud seems to keep slipping and sliding back into place. Just when she rolls a cart of the stuff away, more seems to appear. She's about to give up, deciding that this is a hopeless endeavor. Perhaps she'll just go back to the Climb, where it's warm and dry and the ground is decidedly solid beneath her feet.

Touch me and you'll never be alone

maybe smoking one more cigarette won't turn your lungs to ashes

The haze of the Last Whisper clings to him like perfume and smoke, sweet with vice and rain. Lanternlight shivers across the slick cobblestones, catching in the soft shimmer of the constellation marks on his skin. Vesper moves unhurriedly through the narrow lane, coat brushed dark with moisture, shadows parting for him as if they know better. Beneath the surface of the murmuring crowd, the thoughts are a low tide—want, worry, pleasure, deceit—but one mind stands out in all that noise.

The girl’s frustration hums bright and impatient, the memory mud answering her irritation with every slop and jiggle. He slows when he catches sight of her: dark skin, shovel in hand, rain plastering stray curls to her temple as she wrestles with the inevitable. The puddle ripples, stubborn as sin. "Y’know," he drawls as he passes, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "ain’t sure there’s much point in tryin’ to move it." His tone is lazy, conversational, but his eyes are sharp beneath the fringe of pale hair. "Seen folks try. Comes back the next day like it missed ya."

He pauses long enough to ruffle a hand through his damp hair, the motion slow and absent, before flicking his gaze back toward the wriggling mud. "Best way I’ve seen’s to lead it somewhere it actually wants to stay. Elsewise, it’ll just keep followin’ ya home."

But all it takes is gas to burn a city down with matches

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

An unfamiliar voice interrupts Aithne's frustration, and she looks up to find a young man passing by, smirking at her. It's an infuriating expression, and the girl scowls at the stranger before turning her glower back to the mud. "Try and do one nice thing," she mutters to herself as she moves away from the mud puddle to lean her shovel against a building. This is what she gets for trying to be selfless for once. She could be enjoying a drink in the warm, dry interior of one of the bars lining the street, or helping herself to any number of other vices available down here. But nooooo, she thought she'd be noble.

Still, now that she's started, she finds it difficult to give up the task. She glances at the stranger, a sidelong flutter of her lashes dampened by not only the rain, but the mud smeared upon her person. "Thanks for the tip," she purrs. "Any chance you know where it might want to stay so I can get it out of the way?" Honestly, who knows what mud wants?

Touch me and you'll never be alone

maybe smoking one more cigarette won't turn your lungs to ashes

A quiet snort leaves him, more breath than laughter. "Ain’t sure the mud thinks what you’re doin’s nice," Vesper murmurs, voice all low smoke and dry amusement.

He should keep walking—he knows that—but the edge of her mind hums sharp and restless, and he’s got fuck all else to do. With a sigh that sounds as if it’s been living in his ribs for days, he veers toward the nearest awning, shaking a few cold droplets from his pale hair. "Seen folks lure it away like it’s a game," he adds, folding his arms loosely as his gaze drifts to the puddle she’d been fighting. "One girl tried makin’ it chase itself."

At that, his shadows stir. They slip soundlessly from under his boots, black smoke poured over stone, gliding toward the muddied street. The light from the lanterns bends faintly as the tendrils gather, curling through the mess until the sludge begins to lift; cohering, thickening, until a crude sphere forms. It wobbles like a heart about to beat, and Vesper tips his head, the faintest flicker of a smile ghosting across his lips. "Could be worth a try," he says, shadows rolling the ball of mud away from the puddle, trying to coax it down the street. The rest of the muck trembles, then shivers as if tempted to follow.

But all it takes is gas to burn a city down with matches

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

Aithne returns the stranger's snort. "Not for the mud," she clarifies. She couldn't give a flying fuck about the mud. Instead, she gestures around her. "For the Grounds, I guess." If she's going to stay here a while, she might as well try and clean it up a little, after all.

In any case, the young man veers off his path to stand under an awning, shaking droplets from his pale hair. Aithne is vaguely surprised, but recovers quickly enough, her emotions shifting quickly to interest as shadows come alive around the stranger. "That's a neat trick," she purrs as the shadows form a mud ball and send it rolling away from the puddle. As the rest of the muck trembles around her feet, Aithne removes herself from the disgusting sludge and goes to share the stranger's awning. "What else can you do with those?"

The mud puddle quivers slowly in the general direction of the ball, but before Aithne can celebrate, it seems to reabsorb itself and turn back towards her. With a heavy sigh, eyes rolling towards the heavens, she steps reluctantly back out into the street. "Here, you," she scolds the mud, scooping a bit into her hands and molding it into a new ball. "Go over there." And then she rolls the mud down the street, grinning a fanged smile and flicking her tail idly as the muck begins its slow trek in the direction she's indicated.

Touch me and you'll never be alone

maybe smoking one more cigarette won't turn your lungs to ashes

Vesper chuckles under his breath, a low and velvet sound that slides easily into the murmur of the Last Whisper. "Ahh, my mistake," he says, dry as smoke, eyes glinting with quiet humour as the mud slops rebelliously around her boots.

"I think so too," he adds, of his shadows, watching as she crouches to mould another lump of muck into something resembling order. His gaze follows her without hurry, pale lashes catching the lamplight as she joins him beneath the awning. The faint drizzle outside beads along the line of his jaw before he turns toward her, voice dipping into something conspiratorial. "As for what they can do..." His grin curves slow, sharp-edged. "Reckon the real question’s what can’t they do." He leans in just enough for his breath to stir the damp curls near her ear, the words dropped soft and deliberate before he straightens again with a lazy smirk. The air between them hums faintly—shadow-thick and rain-slick—and when she strides back into the street to corral her creation, he watches with a quiet, half-amused focus.

Then, with a flex of will, his own darkness spills out once more. The shadows lace through the street like veins of ink, nudging along the hesitant edges of the mud that lingers behind. It slithers forward at last, following the rest with reluctant obedience, leaving the stones—temporarily—clean.

But all it takes is gas to burn a city down with matches

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

The stranger chuckles, the sound low and enticing, and Aithne glances at him from under her lashes. He's attractive, and he can't be much older than her, but there's something else about him that draws her in. Perhaps it's the quiet humor in his eyes, or the dark mischief in his smile. Or maybe it's the way he practically purrs as he taunts her about his shadows. She can't quite tell if he's flirting or just messing with her, but either way, she bares a fanged grin at him before sashaying back into the rain.

But before she can shoo the mud on its way, dark shadows leap from behind her to nudge the muck along. It's reluctant, but it follows the shadows, leaving the path clean. Aithne tosses a mock glare over her shoulder. "Show off," she accuses, but there's no heat to it. If anything, she's impressed. If only she had control over something like that. She wonders if it feels as good as she thinks it must, to have that kind of power at one's fingertips.

The rain patters down around her, and she turns her face up to it. It's a little chilly for her tastes, but she doesn't mind, not really. Twirling back towards the stranger, she skips back under the awning, thoroughly drenched. Damp curls cling to her cheeks and neck, and beads of water slide down any exposed skin. "Soooo," she says, reaching up to wring some of the water from her hair. "Do you have a name, oh master of shadows?"

Touch me and you'll never be alone

maybe smoking one more cigarette won't turn your lungs to ashes

Vesper’s laughter comes out low and quiet, a ripple of sound that never quite reaches his lips. He shrugs, shoulders moving beneath the dark fall of his coat as his eyes track her through the rain. There’s something deliberate in the way he watches; curiosity tempered by that lazy, feline ease of his.

"Thought Ancients liked to keep cozy," he murmurs, one brow arched as his gaze lingers on the droplets tracing down her skin. The rain has made her shine, water catching every curve of light as if she’s been dusted in silver. 

"Master of shadows?" he echoes after a moment, dry as a drought, though the smirk that follows is pure indulgence. "Vesper," he corrects, voice curling with the faintest drawl. "An’ what’s yours then, oh digger of mud puddles?" The shadows at his feet stir faintly, restless as smoke, as if echoing the humour that glints behind his pale blue eyes.

But all it takes is gas to burn a city down with matches

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

A low, quiet laugh is all the reward Aithne receives for her teasing, and it's all that she needs as she flashes a grin over her shoulder. The rain falls upon her dark skin, dripping down her chin and coating her hair in a sheen of water. When she returns to the stranger's side, she shrugs. "Cozy is great and all, but have you seen the weather this season?" She gestures vaguely to the sky. "Unless I want to spend the foreseeable future cooped up inside somewhere - which I don't - then I might as well embrace it." Still, it is a little chilly, and Aithne has to work to suppress a shiver that threatens to shoot down her spine.

The young man offers his name - Vesper - and the humor that glints in his pale eyes tickles the girl. "Vesper," she repeats, as though tasting the name on her tongue. "I'm Aithne." She drops her hands from her hair, giving up on the futile endeavor of wringing out the last droplets of water, and leans back against the wall behind her, crossing her arms over her chest. It's a subtle attempt to bring some warmth back into her body, but she fights to keep it casual all the same. "So, Vesper... what brings you to the Last Whisper?"

Touch me and you'll never be alone

maybe smoking one more cigarette won't turn your lungs to ashes

Vesper’s shrug is loose and languid, shadows shifting at his heels like they’re bored with the conversation but unwilling to drift far from him. "Plenty of fun to be had inside," he drawls, letting his gaze flick meaningfully toward the bars and brothels tucked into the Whisper’s crooked spine. "Sure beats bein’ turned into stone, anyway." The comment slips out easily, almost offhand, as if he’s discussing the weather rather than a risk he’s heard of from the ancient's he's spoken with.

When she says his name again—slow, tasting it—his smirk deepens, a faint tilt of amusement that softens nothing. Aithne. He tucks it away in the quiet, private corners of his mind. Outside the awning, his shadows stretch further, nudging back the sluggish memory mud that’s already begun to ooze its way home. The stuff recoils, half-reluctant, and the stones beneath it breathe clean for another moment or two. Vesper watches the motion with a flick of pale lashes before speaking again. "Here on business," he says at last, tone smoothing into something unreadable. "Stayin’ in the Grounds for at least a season."

Then he tips his head, blue eyes sliding over her in a slow, appraising sweep that lands somewhere between curiosity and invitation. "What about you, Aithne? What’re you doin' in the Last Whisper besides playin' in the mud?"

But all it takes is gas to burn a city down with matches

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

Bars and brothels might be fun, but Aithne has better things to do. To be fair, though, it can certainly be argued that she has better things to do than play in the mind, too, and yet here she is. Still, she shrugs her shoulders, the motion stiff as a chill begins to set in. "When I head inside, I'm sure it'll be a blast, too. But I still don't want to be stuck there all season."

Vesper's lackluster response doesn't offend the girl; he's entitled to be vague if he so chooses. Aithne, on the other hand, has no qualms about sharing her plans. "Just getting to know the Grounds," she says, gaze darting over her surroundings with something akin to greed. "Seeing as I'm planning to stay a while." She cocks her head to one side, appraising Vesper as openly as he does her. "Seems like we might see more of each other - for a season, anyway." And who knows what would happen at the end of spring? Even she, for all her plans, can't promise to linger in any one place for long.

Touch me and you'll never be alone

maybe smoking one more cigarette won't turn your lungs to ashes

Vesper’s smirk unfurls slow and deliberate, a curl of shadow at the edge of a flame. "Pretty sure they can bring the fun to you outside, if that’s how you like it," he murmurs, letting the words settle between them with a lazy confidence that feels almost like a dare.

When she appraises him in return, open as a hand on a card table, he lifts a single brow in answer. Her certainty about staying, about crossing paths with him again, flickers through her thoughts with a warm, hungry edge. He lets it roll over him, cool as a tide sliding beneath a dock, and his lips twist into the faintest ghost of a smile. "Y’know," he says, tone dipping softer, richer, "maybe we will."

And just when the moment might have deepened—when the rain, the close shadowed lane, the steady thrum of her pulse might have spun it into something more—his shadows sweep up beneath his boots like a breath reversing direction. They gather, curl, fold around him.

Then he’s gone.
Or close enough.

Thirty feet away, hidden behind the crooked edge of a jutting building, he reforms from mist and quiet laughter, the whisper of displaced rain the only sign he was ever there at all.

~FIN

But all it takes is gas to burn a city down with matches

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3