[OPEN] (Re)Unions
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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Posts: 3,914 | Total: 7,219
MP: 10170
#1
It had been barely forty-eight hours since their first foray to explore the Greatwood had ended in disarray and panic. Guilt had tattooed fresh scars over Jigano's heart as he had realized that his friends - Caiside and Kiada - and his family, Amalia , had been taken from him so easily, his leadership and protection proven to be little more than illusion. Now, through luck and the support of his old friend Samuel and new friend Killian , along with ally Deimos , and of course the intervention of Arduinna, those hours and days of pain and fear were ending. Their missing ones were safe and found, and for a little while, at least, they had the protection of the forest's Lady to see them all safely home again.

The bard stepped lightly through the paths of the hidden village, it's organic construction blending harmoniously into the forest around it, the whisper of bubbling water rushing playfully over stones a pleasant counterpoint to the rustle of leaves overhead. For the first time that day Jigano let himself enjoy the beauty of it, his heart growing lighter with every step closer to his friends.

Amalia! Caiside! Kiada! he called out to his Attuned friends, hope and joy flavoring his usually-cautious mindvoice for a change as he reached out for them impatiently, hoping to lead them to him as he grinned over his shoulder in triumph at those who had accompanied him so courageously and against all common sense.
Samuel Wordsworth
Book maker/seller

Age: 34 | Height: 5' 5" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 25 - Int: 1
MIA - Regular - Ragdoll Cat
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#2

Sam looked up and about him as the group entered Sidhe, amazed at how different the buildings were here, not so far from the place he had called home; now his house seemed almost archaic, archecture stuck in a time different to the Fae village. He still stayed close to Jigano (especially as his paranoia convinced him each Fae they passed gave him a judgemental eye) but let himself study the buildings, wondering if he could speak to someone here about how exactly they were made, write it all down.

They got deeper in and Jigano paused, but said nothing. Sam looked over at him and frowned. Was he not excited to find their guildmembers? "Are you not going to call for Caiside and Amalia?" He asked, looking to see if perhaps Jigano had already seen their lost friends.

Samuel
He took a step but then felt tired
He said, I'll rest a little while
But when he tried to walk again
He wasn't a child


Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#3
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
Courage, steadfastness, dumb luck, and determination had led them here, along portals and intertwining paths, along Fae guides and specious wonder. The anticipation, no longer consternation or trepidation (ensconced in the back of his mind; never fully vanquished), drew him along and along. Were he by himself, his strides would’ve been rapid, fluid, minstrels of savage connotations and fervent plans, rushing headlong, ruthless and devastating, grabbing hold of what he craved and then being off on his way. He’d come here for his companions, his kin, and his beloveds; any and all patience, composure, would’ve evaporated from his soul the moment his feet touched upon the village ground. The desperation had clawed away a few of the more nonchalant, reticent features of his hollowed chasm, but for now, they had to slide back along his face, tie his yearning into slow, methodical traces, the meticulous born again, instead of the iniquitous, the rebel, lingering beneath stone and rubble.

At the very least, it gave Deimos the opportunity to occupy his mind with their surroundings: the village sprawled out before them seemed wide open, sheltered by the trees, the balconies of their canopies, homes or some other buildings suspended and intertwined with the copses and glades. He surveyed, silent and uncertain, head tilted to peruse and study, analyze and examine, as they wandered deeper and deeper into the threshold. He didn’t revel or revere its beauty; he saved that for foretold individuals, but scrutinized it for what it was, following lines of boughs and branches, glancing in various directions for signs of incoming inhabitants – either Fae, foe, or friend.

When they seemed to pause at a certain juncture, he ceased movement too – abrupt, rigid, taut, and tense, pondering on how to proceed. The silence haunted and loomed against him, and he waited for several seconds, pondering where they were supposed to go. He didn’t have the gift of any innate mind-reading powers, incapable of sending messages other than with his intonations or actions, but he did have a mighty roar, a booming voice, capable of ricocheting and echoing when it desired. The beast arched his brow at Jigano, and then Samuel, pondering why no one had said anything, so he chose to disturb the peace, calling for the ones taken, now freed. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called, nothing barbaric, nothing bestial, nothing promising barbaric intricacies – only if someone stood in his way again. “Amalia! Kiada! Caiside!” He didn’t know the third individual, but it didn’t really matter at this point; if a lost soul was a lost soul, they were here for them, dragged through muck and mire and restlessness to liberate, to deliver, to triumph over what little they could.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Caiside Annatar
Blacksmith

Age: 43 | Height: 5'5" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 3 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 13 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 19 - Int:
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#4

A voice echoed first in his mind, then another through the bushes Caiside crouched in, the sprites who had guided him disappearing in the instant he looked up. It seemed it hadn’t been a lie, his friends, or at least, one friend had arrived. Caiside followed the booming call that had come second, the echo of it easier to track than the mental voice, and soon stepped out of the brush, onto the path just behind the rescue party.

”Jigano?” Caiside was beside himself to see his friend unharmed, though he was confused at how he had managed to come here. So much so that he almost completely ignored the other two members of the party; a large man he didn’t recognize, except perhaps from passing glances, and Samuel. He was surprised to see the bookmaker here, he didn’t seem the type for a rescue mission, but... Caiside supposed he would have to be civil in the face of it.

Caiside looked down at himself quickly, quiet relief passing through him when he relished he wasn’t naked any longer, though disapppintmwnt also curled in his guts when he saw he also lacked the golden adornment that he had had before. At least he wouldn’t be self conscious as he moved forward, offering Samuel and Deimos each a grateful smile before stepping between them to talk directly to his guildmastwr. ”How did you escape? They said she was right behind us.”

Caiside
I have never been allowed to be Holy,
I have never been forgiven for Wanting;



Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#5

YOU SAID THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE MOON
IT ROSE TOO SOON
AND WE'RE DOING WHAT WE SHOULD


"You're here."

There is very little else to say, and also so, so, so much more. Standing in the street before them Amalia is still, breathless from running, bright-eyed with amazement, utterly overwhelmed and lost for words. A wraith encased in colored glass the girl looks between them, unwilling to close the space of the block lest she draw too near and they disappear, like so much smoke and dreams. Samuel, the least expected person to make such a journey; Jigano, her friend, her family, a welcome surprise; and Deimos, her lighthouse, her anchor, her heart. Why are they here, why did they come - and how, and when, and could it truly be for her?

There are others, too, her mind reminds her, insidious and strangling, refusing to let her dream too big. Other people, other reasons. You are not so special as all of that.

Still, she cannot help the smile, the way her face lights up and colors, the shy and wondrous glances she flickers their way. It should not surprise her to see them here, and yet it does, fills her with warmth and gratitude and love, makes her dizzy with wonder that they should care. Amalia yearns to surge toward the men, wrap her arms around them all and bury her head in the safety of their chests. To touch the cheek of Samuel, to hold Jigano's hand. To feel Deimos' grand embrace, his mouth upon her burning skin, his fingers in her hair (and would he even want that still, now, here, with the world to watch?). It has been days, but it feels like eons, centuries since her capture and subsequent release. In so brief a time she has changed so deeply, her world destroyed and rebuilt.

How to tell them all that has happened, to explain the magic she has seen in the countless moments lost between them, the fear and love, the triumph and despair? How to explain the tulmhainar, and Delah, and Jyoti most of all, the creature who now shares a piece of her heart, the soulmate she never knew she did not have? How to say how sorry she is for being captured, for putting them all at risk; how hard she has fought to protect the others, and why she did not return?

There are no words to explain her feelings, and so Amalia does not speak. She lets her smile to the talking, her cheeks, her posture, her radiant gaze which does not drift from Deimos' blue. The tension is broken by another's arrival, blissfully shattering her enraptured thoughts and returning her to the present. Clearing her throat the girl drops her eyes, turning to look at the space behind her, wondering when her companions will come. Jyoti is with the other girl, though she doubts it will stay that way for long. "Kiada is nearby, but Adam is still in the pit. We'll have to get him out before we go home." Focus. Lead. Prioritize. Plan. They are not yet free, not yet out of the woods. Better to manage the things she can than let her emotions take control. There will be time for stories, to wax poetic, to find out where she stands and what the world wants.

a m a l i a
You said it's life that moves too much
We're losing touch
But I'm not losing you


Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
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Posts: 3,914 | Total: 7,219
MP: 10170
#6
He glanced to Samuel with a hint of a grin as relief continued to pulse through his veins, an almost giddy feeling of release in knowing that his missing people were alive and well and safe, somewhere in the village. Chary as he was of using his telepathy, this time his adrenaline-fueled joy got the better of him and he called out with his mind rather than his voice, forgetting for a moment that it would seem strange to those who were not also Attuned.

Deimos took matters into his hands - or rather, tongue - before Jigano could respond, adding an audible component to the bard's call. A few moments later they were joined by a wonderfully, desperately familiar voice and the bard spun lightly, hungry for the sight of his friend as Caiside stood on the path behind them, none the worse for wear. The white haired guildmaster stepped forward to clasp his friend's arm in greeting, then pulled him close into an awkward almost-hug of exuberant relief. "I don't know," he admitted, voice a little rough with emotion at this proof that Arduinna had told the truth. "After you disappeared I got above the trees so I could see all around me and avoid an ambush. I made it to the river, but then the Woods played tricks on me until it grew too dark to continue and I almost collapsed... I spent a day recovering and gathering allies to help get you back, and now here we are. And here you are, not even captured!" he declared relieved and rueful all at once. "But.. 'they'...?" Before he could probe further into the strange wording another voice had him spinning again.

His heart ached at the sight of Amalia, his breath catching in a throat that closed with emotion. All he could manage in that moment was a pulse of emotion across the Attuned mindspace: affection and a deep, almost painful elation that his heartsister stood straight and proud and unharmed. So many hours of worry and fear, nightmares of worst-case-scenarios, vicious words turned upon himself for being unable to stop her from being taken, all melted away in a burst of rejoicing that she, like Caiside, was whole and well. "My Amalia," he said softly, before realizing that her gaze was drawn like a magnet to a lodestone - not to him, but to the grim creature who had accompanied the Loreseekers.

Only then did Jigano realize he had stepped forward, reaching out to her - not unwelcome, perhaps, but not as welcome as another among their number. He stopped, his hand falling back to his side as he drew in a breath of understanding, melting back to stand beside Sam and Caiside once more as he allowed the young lovers their reunion unhindered, turning instead to the other members of his guild who had gathered. "Let's go find that pit and see what we can do for whoever else they've captured," he said quietly. "And keep an eye out for Kiada. I'll feel better once everyone is gathered and accounted for and we can decide then on when we should leave. Sooner is probably best, so we don't risk angering the more reluctant of our hosts. But if some of us decide to head back early, try to travel in groups rather than alone. Just to be on the safe side."
Samuel Wordsworth
Book maker/seller

Age: 34 | Height: 5' 5" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 25 - Int: 1
MIA - Regular - Ragdoll Cat
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#7

After Jigano's strange silence Deimos finally spoke up, yelling the names of their lost friends. Eventually they did come, Sam glancing between them and Jigano to wonder why it was he had stayed so quiet. He coolly nodded towards Caiside, unsure of how to greet the man, then watched Jigano approach Amalia...his Amalia? Sam raised an eyebrow. He'd thought Jigano was interested in Rory and the man hardly seemed the type to play the field, as it were.

Maybe there was more to him than met the eye.

But it wasn't his business, or at least not right now, so he tried to focus back on the conversation. More in the pit? That meant they would not be getting out of here as quickly as he would have liked to, and he sighed, wishing they could just turn around. But it would not be the right thing to do.

"Why did the Fae not release everyone...?" He wondered, directing the question to Amalia.

Samuel
He took a step but then felt tired
He said, I'll rest a little while
But when he tried to walk again
He wasn't a child


Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#8
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
They came; Caiside first, the only he didn’t recognize, pondering how Jigano had managed to escape, so the answers and deliberations were not for him. His eyes were solely on the horizon, swaying in each and every direction, finding great difficulty in absorbing any of the beauty of the Fae village in spite of his normal inquiring nature; fastened to one impending individual. For a few moments, despite his composed stature, he was a vexatious, tempestuous fool, the fervency trapped and seething between his fingers and muscles; practically pulsing with the strain, fully intending to make a damned scene if Amalia or Kiada were snagged and snared somewhere else, and they’d been betrayed –

Then she appeared, a breathless little whim curling from her lips, and he stilled, the apprehension uncoiling as rapidly as it’d been kindled and incensed. He loosened several breaths in the matter of a second, quick and swift, but never glancing away. A small smile tucked itself along his lips, and he thought about reaching for her, in front of anyone and everyone, spinning her around in the center of the bungalows and high, lofting trees, the watching eyes, the scathing canopies, in effort to express his gratitude towards her safety. They weren’t liberators or freedom fighters; she’d done that all on her own, but for a beast who lived his life loss after loss, defeat after defeat, death after death, there was nothing greater to see and encompass one of their own rising from the scalding calamities and possibilities. Perhaps there’d been no danger, and maybe there’d been an endless, incriminating stance they couldn’t yet see. It didn’t really matter, in the here and now.

But then they all seemed frozen in those haunting, paramount structures, incapable of doing or saying anything without a major risk, but he held her gaze regardless, an all-enduring shield of promises, reassurance. The world wouldn’t make him break away if they damn well tried; except her words are about Kiada, and some Adam figure still stuck in the pit. It’s in those movements and motions that they could go then, down into the doldrums, deliver some poor, unknown brute from his current state. It was action instead of sinking and simmering in the barbaric enigmas, instead of falling to pieces, instead of just openly staring at one another and doing naught else (he would, if the situation called for it). He arched his brow at her instead, the slightest ease of teasing refrains on the tip of his tongue, on his features, then shuffled away when he turned to the others. “Should we see to his freedom?” The warrior had already begun to move, maneuver, his way towards Amalia, presuming she could show them the way, very sneakily reaching forward with his palm to squeeze her fingers (promises, promises, and promises, an after clearly written in the lines of his hands), before releasing, looking back over his shoulder, awaiting the rest of them to follow suit.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Caiside Annatar
Blacksmith

Age: 43 | Height: 5'5" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 3 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 13 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 19 - Int:
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#9

Amalia stepped out in nearly the same moment he did, looking hale and hearty and lifting a weight off Caiside’s chest that he hadn’t know had been there. The last he’d seen her had been with the tulmhainar. He could have been told a million times that she was fine, but still didn’t truly believe until he could see for himself.

Caiside stood quietly while she was greeted, though it was clear he was eager to move. He had not yet had the chance to wander, and see the village on his own terms, and while that wasn’t exactly what their intentions were, it wasn’t hard to turn looking for someone into looking around.

Falling into step quite cheerfully behind the group, he turned to speak, more to Jigano than to Sam, though he wasn’t excluding the other guildmember from his words, too clever to let any disagreement between them make him look bad. ”They were holding people to be... eaten. He offered, uncertainty in his tone as he looked back up at Amalia again. ”Though, evidently not in the traditional way. Perhaps the others weren’t befitting a meal?”

Caiside
I have never been allowed to be Holy,
I have never been forgiven for Wanting;



Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
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#10

YOU SAID THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE MOON
IT ROSE TOO SOON
AND WE'RE DOING WHAT WE SHOULD


Jigano is the first to approach, his nearness forcing her intent eyes away from the dark behemoth to the pale bard, a different sort of affection blooming in her face. She does not see him hesitate, only come near: and so the girl responds in kind, firm facade cracking, calm veneer fading, only laughter and relief left in its face. Amalia does not hesitate - she closes the space between herself and her friend, throwing eager arms around him, a fierce embrace with grasping fingers pulling in for more. "I was so scared," the girl confesses, a breathed admission against his hair for nobody else's ears.

Drawing away reluctantly, Amalia turns her attention to Sam and gently shakes her head. "I don't know. They let me go because of Jyoti, and Kiada because she fed the tulmhainar, but they seem to like Adam too much to give him up." A tired shrug: she is out of ideas and explanations, unable to find reason in this place. "Perhaps they did not trust him to get home without an escort." She didn't, certainly.

Then Deimos is coming toward her, and for a moment she does not breathe. Will he speak? Touch? Catch her in his arms, scoop her up before the assembled, declare her to be his? But no: there is only the slightest graze of fingers on fingers, a secret, subtle, scintillating act, more meaningful than any public display. Hands on hands, but hidden, private, not for shame but because it is theirs, too young and too lovely for prying eyes. Inhaling sharply she nods her head, the faintest glitter of unsaid things illuminating her smile, her eyes.

Turning to fall in alongside the looming man, it is all she can do to keep from reaching out again, letting hands meet and fingers lock, his arms around her, her face in his neck. Instead she brushes his arm against him, the subtlest touch, a silent exchange before falling away toward Caiside and Jigano, drawn by the question the once-elk posed. "It thrives on memories." There is a wistful affection in her voice, the wonder of the tulmhainar still fresh in her mind. "But does not take them away, only asks to be told stories. Oh, it's beautiful-!" And this she says directly to the provost, turning to walk backwards before him, a flush of incredulity on her face. Safe at last in the company of friends Amalia's tension is falling away, replaced with appreciation for the things she has seen, the adventures undertaken in a brand new world.

The position also allows her to quietly grow a leopard tail and prod at Deimos' back with it, mischief shielded by her body, a silent game for only them.

a m a l i a
You said it's life that moves too much
We're losing touch
But I'm not losing you


Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,914 | Total: 7,219
MP: 10170
#11
Sun and stars, wind and fire, the sister of his heart bridged the distance he had feared had broken open between them with a laugh and an embrace that drew his proud head down and brought his arms up around her shoulders – slowly at first, still tentative in such affection, but growing more practiced with each hug. ”As was I, dear one!” he murmured back, a whisper, a secret. He squeezed Amalia gently and then let her go free once more, relief and pride naked in his eyes for a moment before he pulled his professional mask back into place and let Deimos step forward to ask his practical question.

Jigano raised a brow as Caiside neatly sidestepped his question about the mysterious ‘they’ to answer Sam’s query instead, but his guildmate’s hypothesis on why not everyone had been freed was a good one, and he nodded thoughtfully. ”Perhaps…” he glanced to Samuel with a raised brow to see what the bookmaker thought, but Amalia was able to answer for them all, and what she said was curious indeed. Ludo toyed with memories, took them in trade or in punishment, but it didn’t seem to need them. Sharing memories with a… person? Creature? Tulhaimnar? didn’t seem like much of a sacrifice to Jigano, not the way Eliza and Arduinna had framed it. Quite the opposite, it sounded like a creature the lorekeeper would quite like to meet! Especially with the way Amalia lit up when she spoke of it, and her flushed joy drew an answering smile from the bard. ”Perhaps I might be allowed to visit it as well,” he murmured, but his attention was distracted as she led the way through the Village.

He peered around in shameless curiosity, noting particularly lovely architecture that seemed to meld with the trees, and how the homes were built up into the canopy, unlike how a human village would be laid out along the ground. It was fascinating, beautiful…

Unwelcoming.

The hostile stares – some angry, some fearful – that they received from many of the inhabitants made it clear that Arduinna’s smiling command to the warchief would be followed to the letter, and not a punctuation mark further. The humans were only barely tolerated, and though it wasn’t their fault, still he felt a pang of guilt over the interruption of the lives of these unfamiliar people. ”We should retrieve this Adam quickly,” he said, glancing to the others to see what they thought. ”Is the pit nearby?”


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