[seasonal event] out of the clouds
Melita Najya
☆ Monster Hunters Guild
Age: 18 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 12
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 281
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#1
MELITA
It was the crashing waves of the waterfall’s nuances that intrigued her, dragged her from whatever other means and measures she’d been roaming within, and the crimson blur and blend of hues that kept her. Entrenched along the embankment, she stopped and stared for the longest of times, marveling as the clear liquid descended and became a blistering red; like blood, like pools of ichor, like lifeforces clinging to pulsing veins, desperate to hang onto what little remained. Melita had no issues with contorting and cavorting with her curiosity, leaning over the edge, gaze enraptured and entrapped by the notions consuming her. Had it been caused by an animal, ancient and long-since buried under the weight of the water, but their blood consistently, constantly, dragged to the surface? Was there some sort of spectral curse hovering on its edges and fringes, hemorrhaging its wicked words and nefarious enchantments, doomed and damned? Or was it something altogether innocent, but reminiscent of battlefields and warfare, bodies dragged and persecuted right across the molten floor? Her gaze swept from the water to beloved Fangorn, who hadn’t been bothered by the blushing tides at all, grabbing hold of some plants nearby and dragging them around by his fangs. “What do you think?” She inquired, but not necessarily expecting an answer; the gourd eyed her rather reluctantly, gave a half-hearted leap meant to constitute a shrug, and then went back to his idle pandemonium.

“Hm,” the honeybee girl pondered, eyes glancing back at the brimming refrain. She’d forgotten what she’d come out here for, a gift for the incoming festival, and crouched on the border and embankment again, wondering what she could do. Staring hadn’t revealed any semblance of a response. Could she dive in? Could she wade along its depths and discover the reasoning? Was it safe? Did she care? The temptation, the enticement, clustered and held her there, poised aloft, longing to take a leap, headless and reckless, passionate and savage.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
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Seiji Okura
Musician ☆ Artist's Sanctuary Guild
Age: 24 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 2 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 10
Played by: kae Offline
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Posts: 138
MP:
#2
Seiji
It begins with a roar. At first, Seiji imagines some massive beast, some leviathan of the soil. But as he continues to walk, something pricks at the back of his mind. Memory: the crash of waves, the roiling black beyond his window. He continues to walk, his feet soft over the summer grass, his finger tips brushing past tree bark as if he maps his way by touch as well as sight. In truth, this forest looks the same in all directions, and he is at the mercy of the trees. But he feels no fear. Not yet. The sun sings somewhere high above, and a stiff breeze rifles through his hair, and curiosity wins over fear this time around.

And it is water. The nearer he draws, the more certain Seiji becomes. It is water. Not the sea, as he desperately hopes. Too small; too focused. No, it's merely a great plume falling from a distant height, crashing and thundering, dissolving into mist at the crown of a ruby red pool. As he reaches the shore, Seiji pauses, and blinks.

The water is reflected in his black eyes: red. Flawlessly red. Ripples feed out from the mouth of the falls, but near his toes the ruby liquid is still as a mirror. He stares down at it, and a shadowy, muted version of his face stares up at him, like an eclipsed moon. Seiji blinks then and looks up, rather unsettled. Someone sits near the edge of the pool several paces away, and he thinks he might recognize her. Or, if not her, then her strange companion...

Because he has nothing else to do, because he is more than a little lost, Seiji approaches. Rather than shout over the roar of the falls, he lifts a hand to wave until he has gained a little more distance. What is she doing here? Maybe she is lost, as well? Or maybe she can help him get back home...
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Melita Najya
☆ Monster Hunters Guild
Age: 18 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 12
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 281
MP:
#3
MELITA
Temptation never really left her – it teased, taunted, beat, and buzzed around her brain until she either fell apart at its capricious whims, stoked the coals, fully lured, or found something else to divert her attentions. But now, naught seemed to embody anything other than an unholy, vicious red. Wholly absorbed in her curiosity, in the intentions of diving straight in, she didn’t notice another approaching. The crimson pool dazzled, bewildered, and beguiled her, and the honeybee child required answers to this one, singular mystery, hands grabbing hold of the ends of her dress and figuring she could descend straight into the surface in just her chemise and underthings. The notion didn’t bother her at all; not the possibility of stained, reddened fabric, when multitudes of her clothing had once been mauled and blotted with blood, not the notion of insecurities, just she and Fangorn in the midst.

The little gourd, however, was more on the alert than she – the otherworldly, ethereal stare pinpointing on movement and motion along the distance, an unearthly growl pulsing from his mouth, a warning, an ultimatum. Melita reared back from her stance, breathless and wild in a matter of seconds, wishing she hadn’t left her staff behind, hands searching, scrounging, for a rock, for a stick, for a weapon, until she shifted, glanced at the figure lingering nearby, and recognized it.

“Oh! Hello Seiji!” Came across as a bright, ebullient thing, placing the chosen stone in her hand back down on the embankment, twisting her other hand away from the seams of her dress, exhaling a long, lingering breath. She hadn’t seen the man in what seemed like eons – perhaps an entire season, not since braiding flower crowns together on Phoebe’s porch – but she granted him a smile beholden in rhapsody and familiarity. “How have you been?” Her head tipped and dipped, eyes glancing along his frame, trying to detect something, pondering over what he’d been up to amidst the spring clamor and summer boundaries, not recalling seeing him at the festival.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Reply
Seiji Okura
Musician ☆ Artist's Sanctuary Guild
Age: 24 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 2 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 10
Played by: kae Offline
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Posts: 138
MP:
#4
Seiji
Her greeting is at once sunshine and thunderstorm, dancing light and poised dagger. Seiji hesitates, his hands lifting as if to expose themselves as empty. Fangorn's growl rattles in his ears, an un-animal sound, pulsating just the wrong side of not-quite-right. He stills. He stills — like a deer caught in the field, head up, dark eyes large, and for a moment the breath doesn't seem to move in his lungs. Maybe, somewhere deep beneath his ribs, his heart still beats. The rest of him betrays no clue.

But then she breathes.

She breathes first. He breathes after, alarm flickering into a warm smile, crinkling the edges of his eyes. "Hello," he nods, and approaches more slowly, his eyes lingering on Fangorn. "Melita." It is almost a question. Not quite. He thinks this is her name, though they only met once briefly. Petals soft against his fingertips, stems sturdy in his hands. The first deep breath after Longnight. He had been dizzy, then, with everything. She had seemed kind.

"I am ... okay," he tells her, choosing the word with some consideration. He glances up from Fangorn as if just now noticing her state of undress, and something shifts in his expression. Something we might name surprise, if we must name it. Not embarrassment, not worry — he sees the haphazard pile of clothing behind her. Just... surprise.

He gestures at the water his brows raised. "Were you... going to swim in this?" Now concern creeps into his voice. Is that wise? What is it, anyway? Does she know more than he? "I am a little lost," he adds, as if this explains his confusion. The words are more than true. "I walked in this forest and..."
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Melita Najya
☆ Monster Hunters Guild
Age: 18 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 12
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 281
MP:
#5
MELITA
He sounded as if he were in a fog; adrift, hazed, mired, anointed in either labyrinthine armaments or warren munitions, and her head tilted, the water momentarily forgotten in effort to understand the unsaid intonations beneath the confusion. “Lost?” She inquired – lost how? Weren’t they all a little lost? The honeybee youth was most certainly misplaced a majority of the time, brilliant, allured, and spellbound, inquiring further and further until she’d delved too far, too fast, sought to consume the world before it did the same to her. “Oh – this is the Crimson Cataract,” the youth laced together on a smile, as if that explained everything, hand gesturing to the crimson water, to the ruby woven threads of cascading drops. Fangorn, along the way, had settled along her side on the embankment, finally recognizing Seiji’s existence as something other than an omen, a foreboding press of predilection.

Her eyes and head shifted back to the object of her intentions, brow furrowing, nose wrinkling, as she considered her options. “Yes,” came the bristling, commanding response, finally pulsing and pervading with an obvious, emboldened reverie. “I want to know why it’s red.” In another time, another place, someone might have tried to stop her spirit of inquiry, the dastardly, deadly, ethereal qualities of her audacious curiosity; but they weren’t here. The daring roamed along her fingers until she dipped them in the intervals of vermillion and cardinal, waiting for the cerise to pool along her palm. Her gaze lingered on it, then lifted back to Seiji, a wink extended as she thought about descending into the open, carmine depths. “You’re welcome to come with me.” She could hear his concern, but the mischief and impishness had clearly won out – before turning back to the containments, inhaling, and then diving straight in, swallowed by the rosy fathoms.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Reply
Seiji Okura
Musician ☆ Artist's Sanctuary Guild
Age: 24 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 2 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 10
Played by: kae Offline
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Posts: 138
MP:
#6
Seiji
Melita, he finds, is not so worried about anything as he is. She gestures toward the ruby waters with a careless hand, casting out a name as she does so. Nothing frightens her; Seiji finds himself a little charmed by her audacity. Her lack of hesitation. She reminds him of his younger self, bold and careless, leaping forth into the darkness of the unknown with glad curiosity.

He doesn't chasten. Merely tilts his head toward the water, considering. She dips a hand into the depths, and raises it without injury. A crimson puddle forms in the shallow basin of her palm. Everything in him recoils; it looks like nothing so much as fresh blood, glittering in the sun.

Before he can speak, before he can even process her invitation, she dives in.

Then Seiji cries out, some garbled word between stop and wait and but and she doesn't here anyway. The water crashes around her descending body, pink foam and crimson ripples, the crash all but silenced by the crescendo of the falls.

Seiji hurries to the edge of the pool, where he crouches, waiting for her to surface. Worry gleams clearly from his eyes. Should she surface - when she surfaces - he will only call out, half laughter and half concern. "How is it?"

Perhaps he is getting too old to be brave.
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Melita Najya
☆ Monster Hunters Guild
Age: 18 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 12
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 281
MP:
#7
MELITA
Oh, things frightened her – she just didn’t let them bind, tether, or collapse into her. Her world had once been endless fear and unraveled abhorrence, and the apprehension had done nothing for her; didn’t guide, didn’t provide, didn’t do anything but make her want to flee and curl into a ball, fester, wither, and decay. None of those movements would’ve saved her family. None of those motions would’ve saved herself. Audacity and boldness though, had ensured her survival, the grasp of her fingers upon branches, rocks, and boughs, the roughened exterior of her callous, monstrous roars, a howl in the midnight sky, adrift and feral, awakening the predator within: the curiosity, the wonder, the horrors. So she wasn’t even remotely bothered by the crimson flowing before her eyes, as she opened them beneath the surface, flickering amidst its depths, going down, down, down, further and further, desperate to find an answer, to spot something that would bring about clarity.

But there was no crackling source of blood, no bewitching foe outmatched and dying in the falls, no overflow of ruined, barbed phantoms. She dove down to the bottom, searching for a body, for a rhyme, for a reason, and her hands reached out for rocks shining, splendor little things, collected along the interface, grabbing hold of a few before ascending back to the surface. As she broke apart the aperture, her hair stuck to her face, and she folded it back with one extended puff of air, a breathless, incandescent wonder clinging to her grin. Seiji’s laughter rang against her hears, calling out in apprehension and mirth. “It’s fine!” The youth roamed closer, watched Fangorn tip into the edge of the embankment, as if inclined to meet her, even along the crimson threshold. Her fingers clustered on the grass, breathless little extensions of air billowing around her, gilded eyes reaching towards Seiji’s. “I found some of these.” Her palms loosened the stones from her grasp, and they clustered and collected together as an assemblage of colors and stars on the ground, but none of them red. Her brow furrowed, then her head turned back to the water, to the pooling depths surrounding, polishing her in cerise and vermillion too. Maybe one day she’d be just the same: red upon red upon red, chastened and decrepit, bleeding, undone and gone.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Reply
Seiji Okura
Musician ☆ Artist's Sanctuary Guild
Age: 24 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 2 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 25 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 10
Played by: kae Offline
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Posts: 138
MP:
#8
Seiji
Seiji breathes again as her head breaks the surface: red curls and droplets of red water, all together glistening in the sun. All he knows of her is that she seems free — free of fear, of worry, of all the burdens anchoring him to the earth. Perhaps it is only youth; he recalls a time he moved so freely, too. A time before Caido. A time when sand was soft beneath his feet, when waves sang him lullabies. He can only grin, moving near and crouching at the pool's edge as she swims over.

Something glitters in her outstretched palm: an assortment of loose pebbles and tiny stones, glimmering and wet. As she lets them fall, Seiji tilts his head. He reaches out to grasp one between his fingertips and lifts it to the light. "Not red," he says, perhaps unnecessarily. His eyes move back to the water, a curious frown tensing just slightly between his brows. "Are your clothes red now?" he wonders.

Seiji leans over to scoop a palmful of the water into his own hand, and crouches there eying it. It does not smell strange. "Does anyone drink it?" He is not quite foolhardy enough to try, but he rather wants to. A mischievous sort of half-grin plays at one corner of his mouth, shepherded into being by her adventurous nature.
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Melita Najya
☆ Monster Hunters Guild
Age: 18 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 12
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 281
MP:
#9
MELITA
If only he knew and understood that she was free because she had naught else: the burdens, the mercurial efforts, the tumultuous tempests roaring against her mind were unchained and released, badgering against her core, but she couldn’t let them stop her. She couldn’t be ceased. She couldn’t be tangled. She couldn’t be strangled by the noose, by the temptation, by the enticements of lingering in the pinnacles of snatching, awaiting void, eager for the moment, the instant, the second, to consume and devour her whole. So the youth reached for the stars, galaxies, and suns, hoping that her ambition and aspirations would be enough, pleading that her determination and resolutions would forge her path.

But she managed to snag a grin for him as she reappeared along the surface, as she stretched out her newfound alms. “Not red,” she agreed and mocked, a laugh chiming while shaking her head, her wet locks were fronds of crimson, crimson, crimson, not blood or ichor, but enriched depths of fire and sonnets. At his inquiry, she glanced down at her ivory chemise, finding it was now courted a rosy, pinkish hue. “Looks like it,” she shrugged, indifferent to its poor plights and stains. But then his next inquiry was sported and contorted with play, with endeavors, with pursuits that his quiet, aloof nature didn’t seem to have appealed to moments before: so she took it with a winsome grin, with a feral smile, with a savage intonation. Blind leading the blind, the curious leading the curious, and perhaps, fortune favored those bolder steps and ridiculous, silly notions. “I’ll try if you do,” then she winked, lowering herself, body absorbed by the pool again, so her mouth touched along the water, either awaiting disapproval or agreement.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Reply


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