[o] you make breaking hearts look so easy

Liam

I just want one more chance

Most days, Liam was a fairly optimistic kind of man. He hated having lost his family, of course, but he also knew that he could live for them rather than drown in their memories.  As such, he tried to be kind. Friendly. Helpful. 

Today was not one of those days. 

The soldier sat beneath a tree beside the river, a bottle of whiskey in hand. He stared out over the water as he took a healthy swig, enjoying the way it burned on the way down. The Fae made great whiskey, but he could hardly taste the flavor; his mind was elsewhere, trapped in a nightmare that he couldn’t escape. 

He’d dreamed of his family last night. Of the attack on Stormbreak and the aftermath, when he’d been sorting through the rubble and found their mangled bodies. No one should have to find their loved ones that way; it had been a cruel twist of fate that it had been him, and now the memories haunted him endlessly. Time had brought many of his nightmares to an end, but even now, he woke up some nights screaming, his bedsheets twisted around his legs and his chest heaving as though he’d run a marathon. He always knew it was going to be a bad day after that. 

So this morning he’d fled into the forest. He didn’t drink often, but when he did, it was in an attempt to erase the past, to burn the searing images from his mind.

It never worked.

To put my arms in fragile hands

Table inspired by the lovely Skylark <3

Maea

What you're given, what you live in
Darling, it finds a way to live in you

An itch beneath her skin had been tormenting her for days, now. As the appetite shifted and she began craving her meat rare and her vegetables not at all, she realized it was time to withdraw from the village, where any voices grated on her ears and keeping up a friendly facade exhausted both energy and patience. The recent spar with Hadama loomed like a dark veil over her thoughts, mocking her resolve to stay in the light, to strive for order and renewal when she ought to know by now that it wasn't why she was on this earth anymore.

Keeping low to the ground, the tigress stalked through the underbrush, her belly whispering through green sprouts that hissed softly upon contact with the scalding stripes. Too green to burn from such a brief touch, her passing nevertheless released a sharp scent of something burning, of ethereal oils that intensified a fragrance of verdure so potent it tore at her heightened sense of smell.
It disturbed an elk too. An old buck with gray around his eyes had been withdrawing from her presence for a good while now. He knew she was there; he had survived too many years not to know, and while he couldn't see her for the dense underbrush, she had kept him moving. Pushing him to run, allowing no rest, no sips of water, no safety to let his guard down. He was growing weary, the long legs faltering in their stride. Soon she would strike, but not yet.

The stag hesitated at the edge of the forest, just on the riverbank. The morning light offered a reprieve from the oppressive gloom beneath the trees, but something else was there on the other side of the river. Something that smelled sharply of unfamiliar things, shaped like the beings that came with sharp sticks and hunted his kind. It was an unknown - but behind him followed death, and with a toss of his head he stepped out into the open air, nose twitching as he scented the air.

And your heart, love, has such darkness
I feel it in the corners of the room

Liam

I just want one more chance

Liam was past tipsy and well on his way to drunk when the stag stumbled into the clearing. It was a beautiful buck, really: old, with grey around his eyes and too many points on his antlers to count. If he’d been sober, he’d have lamented that he’d missed such a hunting opportunity. Near-drunk, he simply sat and stared.

Was the elk alone, he wondered? Was this some kind of sign, some signal of where he was headed in life? The soldier lifted the bottle to his lips once more, downing more of the whiskey. It didn’t burn quite so much anymore. He was becoming immune, as he always did when he was like this. It was something he’d look back on later and regret, but for now, it was the only thing he knew to do to keep the nightmares at bay.

To put my arms in fragile hands

Table inspired by the lovely Skylark <3

Maea

What you're given, what you live in
Darling, it finds a way to live in you

The man stared at the buck, and the buck gazed back, unblinking. For one shimmering moment, all was still, and quiet, and perfect.

It shattered with the crash of saplings whipping aside. A white blur tore out of the forest and in a single bound the elk dashed off along the riverbank with the blue-striped tigress hot on it's heals. It tried to outrun her, but she was too fast. It tried to evade her as she leaped for its powerful hind quarters, but she was already there, claws out and teeth flashing as she bit into the greying hide.

The pained screech of the buck sent birds scattering from the treetops. With the weight of the tigress pulling on him his flight slowed into a shuffle, then a half crawl as his rear legs gave out. In a storm of thrashing tail and merciless precision, the hunting feline shifted her grip, letting go of bloodstained flanks only for her jaws to find its throat instead. The elk thrashed, tried to get up again, tried to run – but she held firm.

Gradually the slender legs ceased their kicking and thrashing. Even when they grew limp, she kept holding on; as the heart stopped, as the breath gave out, as life bled onto her tongue and ebbed away. Going, going... gone.

Still she held on, her pale eyes closed against an ecstasy too profound for words.

And your heart, love, has such darkness
I feel it in the corners of the room

There’s a nice smell in the air. Sweet, almost like vanilla? If you glance over you’ll notice some of the grass along the banks is in bloom, its flowers light and welcoming. Maybe you should collect some?

---

You’ve encountered sweetgrass. This counts as a common 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.

Sweetgrass (common) - A tall green grass that lines the banks of the Stone Symphony. It produces a slightly sweet, vanilla smell that attracts bugs to pollinate its light purple flowers. It is a common substitute to sugar in baking and can be found in many teas as well for its calming effect.

Liam

I just want one more chance

Liam realized belatedly that the elk wasn’t giving him a sign; it was fleeing from something.

When that something burst from the treeline in a flash of white, the soldier swore and shot to his feet, nearly dropping his whiskey in the process. He braced a hand against the tree trunk he’d been leaned against to steady himself. Gods, he was an idiot to come out here like this. He should have stayed home to drink, not made himself a sitting duck for any predators in the woods.

But this wasn’t just any predator - it was a molten tiger. And dimly, somewhere in the back of Liam’s mind, he registered that molten tigers weren’t native to the area. Which meant that, in all likelihood, this was a very specific molten tiger.

Maea.

Her kill was not quick or clean, but it wasn’t the first time that he’d seen a predator take down its prey, and that bothered him considerably less than his state of inebriation. Somehow it mattered that he was drunk and alone in the woods, smudges of dark circles beneath his eyes, in clothes that were so rumpled it looked as though they’d been slept in.

He didn’t want her to see him like this.

He stumbled a step, muttering under his breath considerably more loudly than he thought. A twig cracked beneath his foot and he paused, looking up towards the tigress and her kill. Had she heard him, or could he still escape undetected?

To put my arms in fragile hands

Table inspired by the lovely Skylark <3

Maea

What you're given, what you live in
Darling, it finds a way to live in you

Eyes like mist met his gaze from across the river. The echoes of the dry twig snapping reverberated in the sudden stillness; only the soft hymn of the river could be heard as the wind died down.

Not even the tail moved, so still had the tigress become. Frozen in place as she registered the presence of the man, realized that she knew his silhouette quite well indeed, understood that he must have seen her hunt – saw her now with blood staining the white fur, coating her tongue, still half lost to the thrill and pleasure of making the kill –

And he was leaving.

Ice replaced like heat of bloodlust in her gut. Ears marked with blue-black steel fell back, drooping as the tigress appeared to shrink. Sinking onto the ground like the wanted to merge with it, or at least fade out of sight behind the carcass. Part of her wanted to slink back into the forest and pretend like this never happen. Part of her wanted to ignore the numb embarrassment that turned even a tiger's limbs numb and awkward, and dig into the meal she had worked so hard for. But then he'd really see what she was. Then it would be impossible to unsee...

It was already too late to pretend, wasn't it. And if Liam didn't want to stay to watch this dark, bloody side of her, then... well. She couldn't make him. Wouldn't try - there was no point.

A slow blink undid the illusion of stillness. The moment passed, and despite a continuous sinking feeling in her gut, the shifted Ancient began to rip into the elk, almost defiant in the forceful, jerking motions. Like she couldn't care less whether he was there or not.

It couldn't be further from the truth.

And your heart, love, has such darkness
I feel it in the corners of the room

Liam

I just want one more chance

Liam should have known better than to try and sneak away in his current state. Last time he'd gotten drunk, he'd at least been at home, but he'd somehow managed to nearly set the cottage on fire when he'd tried to make something to eat. No, it was much safer (and far less embarrassing) for him to do this somewhere private.

He wondered if he'd even remember that for next time.

His eyes met Maea's (or the molten tiger he assumed to be Maea) and whether it was his friend and therefore not inclined to eat him, or a wild tiger content with its considerably-larger-than-a-man kill, it froze in place, staring him down for the length of a few heartbeats. The tiger's eyes were the color of mist, and he was so sure that it was Maea that it hurt, anxiety coiling in his chest at the thought that she would see who he was at his core: a coward who ran off into the woods to drown his sorrows.

She went back to her meal. He went back to leaving.

And he might have succeeded, had he not tripped over a root sticking out of the ground at just the right angle to send him tumbling to the ground. The next thing he knew, he was on his back on the ground, staring up at the leaves above him. Was it his imagination, or were there too many? Seeing double (or perhaps triple) and mortified to the depths of his soul even through the haze of alcohol, he threw an arm over his eyes and groaned.

To put my arms in fragile hands

Table inspired by the lovely Skylark <3

Maea

What you're given, what you live in
Darling, it finds a way to live in you

Hot blood spilled out along with intestines as the elk was disemboweled. For a few ravenous moments she was able to slake her hunger on liver and heart, delving deep for the precious organs so quick to spoil if left for later. Bloodlust eased off her mind, and with the satiation a clarity returned to her thoughts that let her consider the morning in a new light.

From the other side of that river, a faint thud was followed by a muffled groan. She heard it only thanks to the tiger's superior hearing. Looking up, she spotted Liam once again, further away now but on the ground. Had he fallen? That was strange - completely out of character for the soldier with the steady gait and the confident posture, who trained every morning to keep his skills from rusting.
Alarmed enough to tear herself from her prey, the tigress stood and stalked along the river for a spot narrow enough that she might cross. Finding one, she gathered herself and leaped in a giant bound over the cold water; her hind legs plunged into the icy current and splashed water all over her hide.
Approaching the downed dragoon with a certain caution, Maea poked her head in over him to try and see his face despite the arm he hid behind. A mixture of water and blood dripped down onto him; recalling the heat of the molten metal soon to follow, she caught herself and jerked back; a concerned chuff left her chest, resonant and very cat-like as she sank onto her haunches. The scent of alcohol tore at her nose, only adding to her concern.

It was a scent she knew well, though not one she had ever associated with this particular man. It tied her stomach into entirely new knots – and kept Maea in the molten tiger's form, as if to shield herself from this most karmic of scenarios.

And your heart, love, has such darkness
I feel it in the corners of the room

Liam

I just want one more chance

The first thing he noticed was the heat. It radiated off the tigress in waves, preceding the warm drip of blood and water that stained his shirt and rolled off his arm. She chuffed, a sound that, in his inebriated state, Liam couldn’t quite place. Was it judgmental? Was it questioning? Did it even matter, now that he’d revealed far too much about himself?

With a deep sigh, he moved his arm from his eyes and blinked up into the sudden light. When he looked at Maea, her form swayed slightly, a testament to the amount he’d managed to drink. Given a few more minutes, he might have managed to stumble into sweet oblivion. Would that have been better or worse? Maybe then he could have avoided this confrontation.

Maybe it was inevitable. He’d failed everyone else in his life. Why not Maea, too?

”If you’re a wild tiger, can you just kill me quickly?” he slurred, staring up into misty eyes that danced and swayed, surrounded by too many leaves. ”I’d appreciate it.”

To put my arms in fragile hands

Table inspired by the lovely Skylark <3

Maea

What you're given, what you live in
Darling, it finds a way to live in you

A wild tiger? The question made her blink, confusion pressing in from several directions. Did he not recognize her? Why was he drinking? Not only drinking but drunk off his rockers by the sound of it. And why, after all the plans they had made, did he think she would ever allow him to die and leave her to be alone again?

She understood now, how her lackluster offer to let Asta finish her off must have felt. It was a repugnant thing, scalding her throat as it sank in what he was asking for. Whether he meant it or not  - and especially if he didn't mean it - it was a cruel request to throw at anyone, let alone to someone who had died. Twice. How dare he throw away so recklessly what she had fought tooth and claw to hold on to!

Rising abruptly, a low growl issued from Maea's throat. A big paw extended towards the drunkard, threatening to swat at him. She did it carefully, wary of her claws and of the scalding heat she emanated; the didn't intend to hurt him, but whatever this was about she couldn't stand to let him stay down like this. He had to get up. Now.

And your heart, love, has such darkness
I feel it in the corners of the room

Liam

I just want one more chance

This, Liam decided, was one of his worst ideas. It had never been a big deal when he was a hermit, alone in the Greatwood with no one but the trees for company. But now there were people here aside from the Fae, and at least one person he knew well.

One person he cared about.

Liam didn’t really want to die, of course, but if this was to be his time, he hoped that it was quick and relatively painless. In his drunken stupor, he didn’t think about Maea having actually died before, nor about the consequences of his words. They simply poured out of him before he realized they were on the tip of his tongue.

Maea’s low growl and careful swipe had him cursing, but it did at least make him sit up, which was progress. ”Gods, Maea,” he said, scowling down at the ground as he struggled to sit up straighter. Then his expression faltered, shifting into something altogether more pained and vulnerable. His voice was strained when he whispered, ”I’m so sorry.” Gods, what must she think of him now? He knew what he thought of himself, and it wasn’t flattering.

To put my arms in fragile hands

Table inspired by the lovely Skylark <3

Maea

What you're given, what you live in
Darling, it finds a way to live in you

Tigers didn't cry, but if they did, would they weep in gold or silver? She was nothing so refined as that. Not the kind of graceful that she could sit quiet while a man she cared about gathered himself from a drunken stupor. She heard the apology, tucked it close to the heart and felt the ache lessen somewhat; felt the anger cool into a mere simmer. Huffing a heated sigh, the tigress approached him, slipping in behind his exposed back and nudged her head against his spine. A searing hot pat on the back, too brief to set him on fire and not unkind. Only insistent.

Get up.

It wasn't that she begrudged him the bottle. Nor did she think poorly of a sullen mood - gods knew she had her days, and despite the even temperament Liam had showed up with so far, no one could be expected to be happy at all times. She wasn't angry, or disappointed - Maea was scared. Seeing him in this state, seemingly out of the blue, put a dent in the solid bedrock of confidence he'd projected up until this point. It reminded her that he had his own demons to fight, and that last time she tried to help someone fight them off, they left with bruises and a rift between them wider than the void itself. She wanted to help, but what if it made everything worse? What if he didn't want her aid...?

Then, so be it. He could tell her to pack off and leave. But first he had to rise.

And your heart, love, has such darkness
I feel it in the corners of the room

Liam

I just want one more chance

It wasn’t that Liam didn’t want or wouldn’t accept Maea’s help. It was that he didn’t think he should need it. He should be better than this, stronger than this, stoic and stalwart and dependable. Not some drunken mess in the first floor, struggling to even stand. But more than that, he wasn’t sure he deserved it. What had he done to earn her friendship, after all? Accompanied her on a quest that she ultimately completed without his assistance?

And even if logic dictated that that wasn’t how friendship worked, it was still all he could think about now as the surrounding tree trunks swam in his vision and the scent of sweetgrass tickled his nose. But Maea, seemingly, wasn’t going to allow him to wallow. She moved to nudge him, a searing pat on the back that might have burned if it had lasted a few seconds longer, and though Liam grumbled, he managed to make it to his knees, then his feet. He was leaning heavily on a nearby tree for support, but he was standing.

He looked at Maea then, tortured and anguished, and said nothing, for what was there to say? He’d failed her. He’d failed everyone who ever mattered to him, and no amount of drink was going to change that. He suddenly felt very foolish, and he dropped his gaze, afraid to meet her eyes and see the judgment he was sure to find there.

To put my arms in fragile hands

Table inspired by the lovely Skylark <3