I think I thought I saw you try
for Jigano
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
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#1

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

She’d messed up.

This particular flare and score wasn’t difficult to admit; her impulsive nature had caught her outright again, smacked and snapped against the impetuous intervals, the ignorance startling, then snarling, snagging, at her beliefs, at her faith, at her convictions. There had been times before when her riotous, ebullient nature had earned her good fortune, a favoring towards the bold, an eager, fervent opportunity in the palm of her hands. This was not one of those sweeping hours. It was unfortunate that at this interval, it had cost her an opportunity to fulfill her quest for Ludo – and with Delah forcing her out of the Greatwood, with no other sign of direction, the girl was stuck.

Melita would love to pout, to sulk, to cross her arms and fume at the sky, at the stars, at the moon – but it was a triviality and tribulation of her own making. She only had herself to blame and wage war upon. So instead, she hung her head and kicked rocks along gravel paths, muttering to herself, contemplating how to go solve the dilemma she’d orchestrated. Fangorn leapt and bounded behind her, not terribly fussed about the entire venture, content to ramble and roll along the grounds, while the honeybee youth spoke to him out loud. “But where am I going to find one?” The gourd did his best impersonation of a shrug, then continued along their wayward path, uttering a hiss, a growl, when he spotted something up ahead.

Curiosity replaced the rancor settling across her tongue, and the youth raised her head, pondering over what Fangorn had found. For the moment, she followed, twisting and turning along the brush – until they came upon an intriguing sight. She could’ve sworn she knew the figure nearby, familiar, the ivory hair, the tall, lithe form, but there were alterations being made – the girl arched her brow, stepping away from the shadows of the forest, ensuring her voice carried despite the whispered intonations. “Jigano?”
M e l i t a
But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power
I'll find a way to be without you, babe

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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MP: 10170
#2
He didn't like taking the disguising dyes off and putting them back on again with any regularity. His skin tone he could get away with leaving, usually - there were enough different colors in the Hollowed Grounds that his honey-brown wasn't unusual - but there was no denying that his hair was distinctive. That was usually a good thing - it made him easy to recognize by those sent to find the Provost - but when he was persona non grata with the local bully and her over-eager gang of troublemakers it also made him an easier target.

Funny thing about having such a distinctive trait though - people stopped seeing the face and focused on the hair. Which meant that once the hair changed... well, he had to do a lot less work on the rest of himself to disappear into the crowd. A broad-brimmed hat, an eyepatch, a slouch to disguise his height, and he was a new man. Not that he didn't take the extra steps anyway, using walnut husks to darken his skin and clever cosmetic use to add age lines to his face; he was a bard, after all, and took pride in his craft.

He had, so far at least, been able to keep his preparations discrete and out of the way, deep in the Woodlands. The last thing he had expected was a 'visitor' in this remote, tree-shaded spring of the Outskirts, and his head whipped up, startled, at the sound of his name as his hand dropped to a knife at his hip. At least the voice and figure it belonged to were familiar, and he relaxed immediately, even as Isuma bounded out from behind him, reeping! a happy greeting to girl and gourd both. Her friend Fangorn was foremost in her attentions as she danced around him, her own pale fur a rusty red that blended with the Leafchange colors around them.

Jigano went back to rinsing the muck from his hair, the husks leaving it a darkish-grey in their wake as he offered Melita a weary but welcoming smile. "For the moment," he confirmed with a slight chuckle. "Though not, perhaps, much longer. Are you hunting today?" That was the first reason he could think of for someone being this far out in the Woods. Hunting or gathering herbs or berries for food or medicines. But Melita seemed a fierce creature, far more predator than prey, to his vulpine senses.
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
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#3

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

The youth was incredibly curious as to why the bard was working on disguising himself, but hesitated to ask. Was it something related to the ongoing circumstances and strife? Or another reason altogether – and he wanted it to remain hidden, just as he intended? She frowned a little, lost and perplexed, misshapen, not a bright little segment and star on the horizon. Out of nowhere, she managed to blurt it out, the impulsive nature taking control. “What are you doing?” But maybe that was all right too, because he did much of the same for her, as Isuma and Fangorn made greeting noises to one another, the vampire gourd bounding ahead and growling, hissing, friendly all the same. Melita was almost loathed to admit her failure – she could place it upon her own shoulders, but to allow it to drift out loud into the ether, with everything managing to catch ahold of it – she slid one of her hands up her arm and played with a sleeve. She could own her mistakes. But she simply didn’t want to make any.

“Moping, actually. And hunting, in a way.” The girl shrugged, knowing Jigano would want more an explanation than that. Her gilded eyes lifted up to the canopy, then off into the distance, wishing one of those trees would saunter out in the midst, and she could be done with the whole thing. “I prayed to Ludo – and they responded, asking me to get some Wicker Woman sap to mend my staff. I tried, but I went to the wrong place, and Delah told me to leave. I didn’t find anything.” Her hands went to her hair, breaking apart some of the tangled knots, keeping herself occupied with the short, ridiculous tale – not going into any lengthy description of how she’d done more than mess up; wrong answers, stupidity, boundless, inept, impetuous actions – the exuberance and exhilaration blighting her this time.
M e l i t a
But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power
I'll find a way to be without you, babe

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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MP: 10170
#4
What was he doing? The bard chuckled wryly, lips twisting into something that wasn't quite a smile, but was close. "Ah. Well. That nonsense with the upstart Zariah is... annoying, to say the least. I've no intention of signing up for her little private army. But 'Guildmaster Jigano' is well-enough known around the Settlement that her pack of bullies could try and make trouble for me, so I've been using a disguise for when I travel into town," he admitted, knowing it wasn't the bravest of approaches, but also knowing his own weaknesses included not being able to overpower two or three fighter-types, especially if they had mages among them.

He began squeezing the water from his hair, keeping a curious ear on Melita as she answered, and he hummed a thoughtful question without words at hearing that the exuberant, cheerful sunshine-girl was moping. At the mention of Ludo, however, he straightened, hair half-forgotten as he turned to look at her with far greater focus. His hands continued to mechanically wring the water out, but his attention was all for her as he frowned, his expression thoughtful. Ludo was not a god to take lightly or keep waiting... none of them were, of course, but he was partial to the soul guide, and he grimaced sympathetically at hearing that Delah had kicked Meilta out of the Greatwood.

"I've found records of Wicker Women in our Woods but... they are old records, and even they say that the trees are rare here," he admitted. His gaze flickered to Isuma and Fangorn, playing and bouncing around in the falling leaves, and his expression lightened a bit as his mind raced. "I, too, was once sent by Ludo to find a Wicker Woman... but that was before the Greatwood became as closed to us as it is now." He shook his head, exhaling a soft sigh and flexing his hands in frustration - sending a last trickles of water to dampen the moss beneath him.

He started to shake his head morosely, then stopped, expression sharpening as a memory came to him. "You just need the sap, right?" he asked cautiously. "Not bark or branches or roots? Just the sap itself? It's powerful stuff, but... do you know the alchemist Remi, by chance?"
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#5

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

“Ohhh..,” she murmured, half in thought, half in something that felt like regret, but also a sensation of defiant pride. She hadn’t hid, but she could understand why Jigano did – if he didn’t want to join an army, why should he? Melita had simply disguised herself as a boy because there was sedition in the splendor of signing her name up, in becoming potent and powerful beneath the nose of the Merciless, in conquering contortions and coils, in unleashing some sort of sprite hell before she was undermined herself. Perhaps Jigano wouldn’t be impressed with the notion though, so she kept the lie, the disguise, the pretense, to herself, and didn’t judge him for his. Her eyes skimmed over the camouflage, the masquerade intentions, pondering if they’d been successful, or if he’d just been lucky. If they’d all just been lucky.

He’d warned her about Ludo before – and it wasn’t to say she hadn’t listened, but the foreboding sensation of being wrong again haunted her, pressed a little weight down between her shoulder blades, encroaching along her spine, twisting and turning down the length of her scar. The bard didn’t say anything about it though, didn’t scold, didn’t press, didn’t lecture, so she eased a breath from her lungs, and listened, instead of simmering, instead of staring off into the distance.

Because Jigano always had some sort of information – Wicker Women in these woods, but a rarity, that he’d once been tasked to do the same thing, before the Greatwood had become more than an enigma, and they were reviled as interlopers and trespassers. “Was it hard to get? What did you have to do?”

Perhaps she should’ve waited – blurting out the first inquiries to form in her mind, too quick, too swift, only adhering to what he said thereafter on a whim. “Just the sap,” she nodded vigorously, hair wild, locks crimping and curling even more in her movements. “I do know Remi!” Perhaps the aforementioned had dealt with a Wicker Woman in the past, or knew exactly where to find one. How fortuitous! Perhaps her luck was coming back, meeting the right people, having the right friends. Her expression turned lighter, happier, not so angst-riddled, sunshine affectations in the billowing breeze.
M e l i t a
But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power
I'll find a way to be without you, babe

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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#6
Melita's reaction to his disguise was a bit underwhelming, and Jigano feared his friend thought him a coward... which wasn't necessarily wrong, he had to admit. Not that he was afraid of fighting or wouldn't join a militia for their home if he had been asked to do so by someone competent, like Ronin, but nothing he had seen of Zariah had given him any confidence that she knew anything about commanding large forces, or any real grasp of military strategy beyond ordering a few mages around with an iron fist. He had probably commanded more with his Hundred than she had, and his men and women had been a varied adnd integrated force, racially, magically, and technologically.

Her quest quickly distracted him from his worries about Zariah, however, focusing his attention on gods - a tricky subject these days, with the heart-wounded bard. But Ludo was the best of them, in his admittedly biased opinion, and he was glad enough to help the summer-smiling girl with her task if he could. "It wasn't easy," he acknowledged with a wry smile. "I traveled with Ronin, guided by ravens, to find one. They are carnivorous plants, and their branches move to wrap around animals - or people - that come close enough. Ronin used his strength to hold on to a stick that we tricked a small branch into wrapping around, and while it pulled taut trying to pull his stick towards its trunk, I hacked away at it with an axe. It still almost got me," he admitted, holding up a cautionary finger. "But the raven dived at the second branch it had sent after me and distracted it long enough for me to avoid being grabbed. So if you go to find a tree, go with at least one other person in case they need to try and free you, or go for help."

Warning delivered, he relaxed back as he shook out his damp, freshly-darkened tangles and began to comb them smooth. "But hopefully you can avoid all that trouble," he said chuckling slightly as her mood palpably brightened and stole a smile to his lips. "It was a while back when I last spoke to Remi about it, but he had a jar of Wicker Woman sap. Now I wish I had accepted it when he tried to give it to me," he acknowledged, a pang of regret in his chest. "But perhaps you can go see him and ask if he still has it? He didn't have a use for it anymore, so he might be willing to give it to you."
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#7

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

Jigano’s story behind his own quest for the sap left Melita already feeling drained: perhaps she’d been fortunate to not have found one on her wayward paths, with branches and boughs snaking around, trapping those foolish enough to get too close (and she would’ve easily been amongst them). She could imagine Delah stumbling across her struggling form and leaving her there to die – amidst the glamor and beauty of the forest, destined to remain a skeletal warning for anyone treading too far in. But she took his explanation too, taking his warnings and omens, cultivated it within her mind, hoped to picture it – but she didn’t want to place anyone in rooted treachery either, inconvenience the ones bold and daring enough to follow after her ridiculous antics. “I would hate to put someone else in danger,” she winced, visibly recoiling and cringing, her whole life’s pattern designed to shield, not throw them directly into the wolves. What good was she then? Or was that part of Ludo’s challenge, to see if she was worth the effort?

But Jigano proffered another avenue, another route too, and the girl snatched and grasped at it as well, desperate and avaricious for an alternative solution. Remi had some Wicker Woman sap. It could be just as easy as asking the alchemist if he needed it anymore, or to offer some sort of even exchange. Hope buoyed in her chest, made the melancholy a little less overwhelming and disastrous; a light at the end of the tunnel, failure not completely imminent. “That would be lovely. Maybe I can trade him something.” Her gilded gaze settled amongst the canopies, pondering over Remi’s necessities. “What do you think he would like in return?” It’d probably be easier to ask him, but she didn’t want to go in empty-handed, didn’t want to seem the beggar. Besides, if he didn’t have it, she’d have to find some other willing participant to dive back into the Greatwood, risking arrest, life, and limb. She had no intentions of placing someone into peril or hazards for her own sake.
M e l i t a
But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power
I'll find a way to be without you, babe

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
#8
"It's a risk," Jigano agreed, nodding somberly. He had asked the Monster Hunters Guildmaster rather than Amalia or Rory for exactly that reason; he didn't want to endanger anyone who wasn't fully aware of the risks, and was trained to handle them. Ideally he wouldn't have endangered anyone, but he was slowly learning that endangering himself could hurt the ones who loved him, and so having back-up had been the choice of wisdom over hubris.

Wisdom came in many forms, however, and that included knowing the right people to speak to, when a problem required an innovative solution. The question of what Remi would like, however, had the bard blinking in bemusement, a befuddled air to his sudden tongue-tied uncertainty. "Ah, well... that is... I don't know Remi particularly well," he tried, delicately. They had been making a concerted effort to get along, but they were still largely strangers to each other, in all of the little ways that made other people friends. "He's... definitely a hard one to pin down," he said at last, shrugging a little helpless. "He can create any item he needs with his magic. I think he'd like anything given to him with a bit of personal thought behind it. He likes... stars? And feathers, I think. Maybe... unusual rocks? Do you have any rocks and shells left from the presents you gave me at the midsummer celebration? From the Cataract in the Greatwood?" he asked as inspiration struck. "Since we likely won't have many chances to get more, that makes them rare and even more special."
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
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#9

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

It’s a risk echoed in waves against her bones: she knew warnings and omens, and rarely heeded them herself. It was one thing for her to gallivant off into the distance, fervent, ardent, ready for whatever came her way, but it was something else entirely to put another in jeopardy, simply for Melita’s own gains. If anyone was injured or hurt, the guilt would gnaw away at her: too many broken pieces littering her pathway to now, too many friends and family alike that she couldn’t protect when worse came to worse, when the vitriol in her blood simply wasn’t enough to save them. She hung her head a little, gaze catching on the ground, frown forming on her face at the notion that she’d somehow have to implore someone to go with her, out into the great beyond, taking chances and perils in her grasp. Her sworn protection might not be sufficient. She might not be adequate.

Where had her boldness gone – drained and drifted away when another individual had to come in contact with it?

She raised her gaze back up to Jigano though as he spoke, not wishing to be rude; as the bard seemed to weave back and forth over Remi’s considerations and opinions, his necessities and things he might cherish. It was worthwhile to contemplate and examine the notion that Remi could simply make whatever he wished: certainly limiting on the honeybee youth’s end, when she had naught to contrive between magical waves and enchantments. Stars and feathers – the girl incapable of capturing the first, and then maybe the second, given enough time and effort. The following suggestion Jigano made was even better though, causing her smile to lift, to emblazon, to embolden along her features again, a palpable excitement humming beneath her veins. “I saved a couple!” They were back at the house; but that was fine, an easy journey back and forth. “Maybe that’ll be enough,” she grinned again, easing back into her old rhythm. “Thank you Jigano.” Her stare meandered back to his disguise, to the reasons he melded and molded himself into the ether, into the bridges of canopies and the startling unknown. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
M e l i t a
But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power
I'll find a way to be without you, babe

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
#10
He might not have known Melita long, but this subdued thoughtfulness was not an aspect of her he associated with the sunlight summer child, all quick movements and bright enthusiasm for life and challenge. Then again, the same could be said for him, given how hard he usually worked to project an aura of cheerful competence and wit. A facade that had crumbled in recent weeks, and left him weary and heartsore, watching the lies he had woven around himself crack and shatter beneath the stresses of failure after failure, and the merciless confrontations with his own helplessness.

The bard was glad that he was able to offer hope, however, and Melita's excitement brought a smile to his own face as she lit up with eager relief. "He is a generous man," he agreed with a smile. "I think he would give it to you for free, if he still has it. But he will appreciate the gift-in-trade, too." He shook out his comb, beginning the process of bundling his hair up in twists and pins so that it looked casually messy and of indeterminate length. Her offer had him blinking in surprise and then his smile softened at the inherent fairness - and kindness - of it. "You helped me immensely with repairing the Atheneum,", he said instead, blue eyes warm. "I'm the one who owes you! Though, if you're up for it, I could use a hunting companion. It might be dangerous, though..." After their previous talk of risks his warning was somber, but he gave Melita the chance to choose for herself whether she wished to join him or not.
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#11

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

Maybe it was the endless pitfalls and tribulations hanging over them that contributed to her more somber mood, or simply them ere reflections of her errors – incapable of bounding or leaping over ones so massive and large. She was due for quieter hours, when the moon was full and she didn’t howl at it, when the sun was warm and she could revel in its caress, when the evenings were not so scattered in agony or defeat, but the momentous weight of everything else, crashing down upon shoulders and tendons. Sometimes they were allowed to exist in those realms, back and forth, betraying exuberance for the fatigue, for the cumbersome load they all somehow managed to carry. She didn’t sigh, and she didn’t flicker apart, but there were stretched out occasions when she thought she just might – but her persistence, her fire, kindled her onward.

“Remi is wonderful,” the youth echoed her opinion, the brighter smile incensed beneath canopies and twisting, turning leaves, the cool copper air sinking into her skin. “I’ll see what I can do.” There was hope there, instilled, reinvigorated, a chance, an opportunity, for her to avoid journeying back into the forest – risking a friend’s life – for the sake of her own demands and selfishness. Then she waited for Jigano to lend his necessities, to extend requirements, aid for aid, help for help – but he seemed surprised by the whole thing, while he bundled his long hair in different arrays. She’d step forward to assist, but based on her own tassels, she was already a lost cause (and half the time just swept it up and out of the way, or let it linger loose altogether: crimson locks haphazardly curling towards the sun), and instead, riveted her gilded gaze back on him. “That’s okay! I enjoyed it!” Which wasn’t a lie – the girl had loved wielding various tools (weaponry) and delighting in being lifted up and down scaffolding while beating on something.

He must’ve known how to play her though – which strings to entangle, which to invigorate and incense, for no sooner had he assured her that nothing was necessary, did her features spring upwards, a hunting companion and dangerous threading its way through her mind. A Cheshire grin replaced the one dipped in halcyon efforts and interludes: this conspired, this tethered, this forgot entirely about treachery for herself. Her words were a flutter, a flurry, a fury. “Absolutely! Can I go home and grab my bow? Where would you like to me to meet you?”
M e l i t a
But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power
I'll find a way to be without you, babe

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
#12
Even weary as he was, he was too well-trained to let his smile slip towards wry disagreement that Remi was 'wonderful.' A great many things, was Remi, but to Jigano he had been decidedly less than wonderful. He was capable of being charming though, and the bard could appreciate that from a professional standpoint, and see how it appealed to others. Besides, it was far easier to give Melita an honest smile at hearing that she had enjoyed working on the Atheneum. Hot, sweaty, dirty work though it was, it was due to all their efforts that it had gone so well, and he bowed his head in gratitude.

Her company was a balm, however, all the more for how he had distanced himself from the Settlement and the daily interactions he had begun to take for granted. He enjoyed his solitude, too, but when it was enforced and not a matter of choice it grated and gnawed at his wild soul. Melita was a most excellent companion, and if she didn't mean spending an afternoon with him, well, he wasn't going to turn down her offer to help! "The bow is an excellent idea," he agreed, a smile on his lips. "We'll be hunting a wolf that's been sniffing around Rory's goats. The dogs have been chasing him off so far, but he's been back a few times. If he's this bold now, he's going to be a real problem come Deepfrost, and a threat to more than just goats. His scent has always been alone, though. My guess is that he doesn't have a pack, and it's driven him a little mad." The bard sighed, standing and placing the broad-rimmed, battered hat over his damp hair. "I know how he feels," he muttered, mostly to himself. "But I'd like to handle this for Rory. He's got enough on his hands right now," he spoke up again, smiling wryly.

"I'll meet you in the woods outside his farm. Look for a greyish fox. He'll lead you on the trail after the beastie, if you're still up for it."
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
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#13

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

The lure of a potential hunt was really all the girl needed to swindle her out of her miserable, moping funk. The excitement, the ebullience, the sudden galvanizing of violence lingered in her mind, in her veins, in her heart again, and she was beyond thrilled for the chance of a distraction, of a deterrent, from her latest failed schemes. “A wolf,” she muttered, already pacing the grounds in thought, Fangorn trodding along, trying to stay out of her way. “Phoebe and I met up with some wolves in the Labyrinth not terribly long ago. They were also quite bold.” Hunger, starvation, and the potential for some kind of meal might’ve spurned them on, desperate for something, anything, to let them survive one more day. She understood the feeling – the widened expanses of nothingness, day after day, night after night, fortitude, might, and sometimes sheer, dumb luck holding things together. Her features didn’t register any further bombardment on the subject, already flying off into the next thing – gilded smile still there, radiant and defiant. “Well, I’ll be more than happy to help.” She saluted, listening to his directions, before grabbing hold of Fangorn and rampaging back the way she’d come – twisting and turning over fallen leaves and hidden moss, missing the barbs, the nettles, and the thorns intending to drag her down.

---

Her trip back and forth hadn’t taken too long – a girl of haste and impulsivity, still not certain of how to machinate and calculate. She did, however, learn something of preparation, and grabbed hold of more than just her quiver and bow; ensuring she had packed some water, some food, and some first-aid equipment in her bag, placing everything on her back. There was a little less speed due to her weightier load, but that was fine too – she could always drop it off at the edge of Rory’s farm, along a fence post or something, and come back for it later. Her mind was more on the hunt, on the mission, on the measures of power, dominion, and ability, striving to show everyone and everything that she wasn’t a consistent failure.

Fangorn bounded behind her, and they set out walking, following the lines Jigano had proclaimed, humming beneath her breath, a little tune that had no clear stanzas or sonnets, a breath of autumn air mingled with her voracious interludes. She ceased when they finally arrived at the outskirts of the farm, and the pair glanced around for the specific fox. The vampire gourd found the gray creature first, hissing and growling, and Melita followed – leaning down towards the tinier beast, smiling, ready, fervent. “Are you my guide?” She intoned, bright and blistering, a youth too sharpened and kindled, incensed and eager, by the notion of desecration.
M e l i t a
But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power
I'll find a way to be without you, babe

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
#14
"It's not normal behavior for them, this time of year," the bard said with a faint grimace, looking off into the trees. "At least, it wasn't normal on my world. One more thing that went wrong within the barrier, I suppose..." He shook his head, but raised it with a wan smile for the exuberance of his young friend, and wished her good speed as he set himself in order - a simple task, once Melita was out of sight, to shift to his four legged form and race through the woods to --

Home

-- Rory's farm. He nosed around near the fence posts, just far enough away to keep from bothering the hounds, and his muzzle wrinkled in worry as the fresh scent caught his attention. The wolf had been there recently, and it, too had sensed just how close it could come without alarming the guardians. Jigano didn't like how wily that made it, and he whined to himself, deep in his throat as he paced back up to the edge of the trees to await Melita and her bow.

Sitting still, his dark grey coat blended well into the loam-and-shadows, even in the early Leafchange shift towards brighter colors. An ear flicked at Fangorn, amused, but the gourd would soon find itself under assault of the cuddlier variety as Isuma made a pounce for her friend, looking for an excuse to play some more. That left Jigano free to lead Melita deeper into the woods as afternoon shadows stretched around them, the air growing decidedly cool away from the balmy autumn sunshine. The fox kept his nose to the ground, tracking their prey across earth still dry from Longheat's baking days. He glanced over his shoulder from time to time to make sure Melita was still with him--

And barked a warning as a trio of large pumpkins - and one very confused cucumber - burst from the underbrush behind them, bouncing and rolling towards Melita's tasty-looking ankles with malicious glee.


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