this wolf wild heart was not made to surrender
For Ludo <3
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#1
MELITA
The last time she’d been to Ludo’s shrine had been much like a catharsis; earth-shaking, shattering, mistakes and conundrums, enigmas and the puncturing notion of silence, a confounding thing that she’d believed had told her everything she needed to hear. That she’d made too many mistakes. That she’d orchestrated too many trials, too many tribulations, should’ve had more control, should’ve been better, should’ve held taut and tight and been more -

And then Ludo had still come when she called, out along eerie footfalls and memory snow.

So she pressed her movements into the glade this time, no longer permitted in the Greatwood, no longer able to follow lantern light to coveted sanctions and rites. It wasn’t for her, but for the deity itself, hushed and quiet, seemingly something amiss in the pit of her bones, in the arch of her bare feet, in the cool abyss against her toes, the soothing grass comforting when everything else seemed a mess. The sunlit sky pressed into her skin, into her flesh, into her heart, and then along the entanglement of items she’d managed to snag: some leftover snow moss, ivory rocks, a few feathers scattered from the forest, a tiny assemblage of shells and shining scales of fish, kneeling, crouching, and placing them on the pedestals. Then she leaned forward, Fangorn beside her knees, a combination of light, ethereal qualities, her voice soft, a whisper, a dulcet whim. “Ludo, I brought these gifts for you. I hope you are well.” Her eyes closed, lids drifting downward, struggling not to see fire behind her eyes, the deadly, haunting rime and ghosts in the wind, demons in the dark. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

Then she reeled back, into the wind, expecting nothing – but hoping the presents were well received; more than she could ask for, in the aftermath of pestilence, blights, torments, and LongNight’s thresholds.
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Spooky Rags


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#2

Feathers fluttered in an ethereal breeze; the fish scales glittered; the shells clinked; the snow moss seemed a little colder, perhaps. Like a being beyond the world was running its fingers across the offerings, the Glade was alive with it for a moment or so, before returning once more to silence and stillness. And Ludo came with it, clearly pleased with the gifts.

“Thank you, sweeting. I like these very much. Yes, yes. But there is nothing that any can do for me. I am already beyond this - and besides, I have been chastised for requesting you assistance in removing the Ascended plague from the world.” Its tone was sunny and light - far too much so for its words.

LUDO
Braved the forests, braved the stone
Braved the icy winds and fire
Braved and beat them on my own

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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#3
MELITA
The youth’s gaze riveted to the fluttering feathers, to the scales glittering in some holy, reverent light, touches of the divine, of the celestial, of things she’d never understand or fathom. It shocked her for a moment, to think Ludo would be here before her again – the girl always somewhat unworthy, always striving, always daring, but diminished after so many other things and moments in between. She swallowed in the stillness, in the silence, then breathed, a rush of comfort and composure settling on her shoulders, on her lungs.

Nothing that any can do for me echoed on her blood, on the tilt of her head, on the channels of deities and intangible, unfathomable wakes. Despite the sunny intonations, the carefree distinctions, the edge to its spoken words were cluttered in things she hadn’t heard, hadn’t known; sick and riddled, mired and bludgeoned, and then wild, bloodthirsty, and savage.

Just representations of her true nature. Just sparks of what lay underneath; the pestilence unraveling any sense of consternation or control.

“I’m sorry,” she uttered, for so many prolonged, edged, scarred, and scattered instances. She was sorry for Ludo. She was sorry for people who suffered. She was sorry for the endless wake of trial after trial, tribulation after tribulation. “Chastised?” That she couldn’t quite fathom - her brows furrowing slightly on removing the Ascended plague; she hadn’t been a part of it, but others had…Roana? Had Ludo sent her off on its bidding? Her thoughts flickered to Wessex, to Rexanna, to other Ascended, to when she’d asked the Queen if she’d been a part of it all – while coughing, while hacking, while gnashing her teeth together and promising vengeance. “What did you try to do?” For some reason, she must’ve been woefully ignorant, the words never reaching her rattled, ill state.
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Spooky Rags


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#4

Ah, this one - always so scarce with words but full of thoughts, like still water running deep. Ludo played with the trinkets left for it as Melita apologised and asked her questions, a rag pushing feathers about to make some sort of pattern. “Do not be sorry for me, it said with a simple shrug. “I attempted to upset the balance more than those above me would have wanted. I realise now that there may be more at play.

Glancing up, it’s porcelain mask glinting strangely as it beheld the honeybee girl, it almost seemed to smile. “I advised those who would asked for tasks to destroy the Ascended parasites.”

LUDO
Braved the forests, braved the stone
Braved the icy winds and fire
Braved and beat them on my own

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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#5
MELITA
Do not be sorry for me echoed and bound against her, but she didn’t know what else to feel, what else to say. Her brows furrowed idlely, hands touching over grass as she settled amongst the finery, the grandeur, of the shrine and Ludo’s existence. “More at play? Like what?” Those higher – like Vi, Mort, or Rae? Or the Voice? Maybe she didn't deserve to know. Maybe there was more at stake than she could even begin to fathom. Maybe she was too worthless, and it wasn't worth anyone's time or effort. Melita was out of touch with the recent comings and goings; not akin to the scheming, the closed door, hushed decibels, the knives threatening to do more than just retract. Something was coming, brewing, and brooding, and it was unlikely to go well.

She swallowed down some choking bile though at Ludo’s final proclamation – what had upset the balance – seeking out those to destroy the Ascended parasites. Some of her friends were amongst those, and it scorched and seethed at her blood, made her scratch at her arm at the uncertainty, at the apprehension curling and coiling along her skin. If it was cruelty, if it was devastation, if it was ruin, if it wasn’t okay, or if it based on the blight’s nuances in her bones, if she would be inclined to agree. “Oh.” She paused, eyes flickering to the ground, to Fangorn, to the ether, before settling on the porcelain mask glinting at her. “You think they deserve to die?” All of them? Some of them? Any?
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Spooky Rags


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#6

“It is not for me to say, nor for you to know,” Ludo said, the image of vague otherness in that very moment. Personal questions, particularly ones about the higher nature of things, or its opinion on matters, had been what had resulted in its recent exile. Melita - sweet honey girl that she was - would get nothing in response.

“What I think has been a call to action in the past. I would not taint the air with it again.” AKA I don’t want to get grounded a second time.

LUDO
Braved the forests, braved the stone
Braved the icy winds and fire
Braved and beat them on my own

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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#7
MELITA
Nothing, no answers really, a touch of you’re not allowed to know essence pressed into her mind. So her eyes fell to the ground, to the earth clambered and rich with green, to places that felt like home, and the bristling unknown set before her. “Okay,” the only thing she could surmise in the stark quiet afterwards, hands resting, rubbing on her arms, as if she were cold, but simply just thinking, not knowing what else to do. She was mere mortal, once adrift because of false paragons, because of monsters who claimed to be what they were not, because they slaughtered and rebelled, because the only taste she’d ever had of celestial beings before were the ones who either protected or discarded – and she was uncertain where she stood now. Her voice became even more hushed, nothing but a thready, warbling whisper, swallowing down the you’re not worthy unsaid, unspoken incantations, a sting nonetheless. “I had the blight,” which Ludo might have known, but might not have cared either. She’d come to them after, pleading and begging for forgiveness, yearning for her shame to be absolved, for it to go all away – and the lack of a response then had clarified a lot for her.

Monster. Heathen. Fiend.

Why would anyone answer her pleas then?

“Is there a way to prevent it from ever happening again?” For anyone to ever have to suffer from its onslaught?
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Spooky Rags


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#8

Safer topics, better grounds to speak upon. The blight - another Ascended construction, as it turned out - Ludo could speak about that at least. “The lady Arduinna draws the blight into her obsidian body, now and forever,” it explained. “Certainly, should she be destroyed it may once again leak out and taint the world. And I suppose there is little stopping something else from poisoning nature.”

Its rags rose and fell in the form of a shrug. “Would you protect against it, then? Against things like it?”

LUDO
Braved the forests, braved the stone
Braved the icy winds and fire
Braved and beat them on my own

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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#9
MELITA
Information here, safety in its relevance, and the girl stilled, quiet once more, a listening ear to the movement of rags and the beings behind masks. The lady Arduinna; her obsidian frame continuing to hold the poison, the toxins, the venom, the vitriol, once penetrating their veins. Melita only remembered her from the Undine’s healing, from the bestowed bow bracelet dangling along her wrist, from the times the Fae’s enigmas had washed and varnished over them in awe-inspiring quality. That she should stand there, sacrificed, for eternity seemed saddening too; a burden in the wood. Had the honeybee child ever realized? Ever thanked her, for taking it in, for pulling away the agony, the misery, the anguish, and the rage? The thought plucked at her heart; amends to be made, later, when they were allowed back into the midst.

A shrug from the deity, and she lifted her head, following the eldritch, bewitching movements like a cat, like a predator, like something else ethereal and otherworldly. “I would try,” she uttered – because that’s what she did. Tried. Attempted. Strived. Determination in her blood, in her soul, in her lungs. But how?
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Spooky Rags


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#10

“Trying is always an act to be rewarded,” Ludo said simply, quietly, its mask tilting to and fro as it gazed across the honeybee girl. “You are capable of much, sweetling. Fashioned with magic, able to channel gods and monsters... what is stopping you from trying?” It fluttered back towards the ground, that it might play again with its offerings.

“You know the threat. The Voice, the Ascended. The world around you opens - as you explore, so too shall they. If you would defend life, preventing any damage from their explorations is a fine way to begin.” Killing them would be easier, in its humble opinion, but apparently that wasn’t the way it was to be done.

LUDO
Braved the forests, braved the stone
Braved the icy winds and fire
Braved and beat them on my own

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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#11
MELITA
Capable of much skimmed and scorched over her soul, and it ignited her heart in a way that it hadn’t felt in such a long time - proud, content, happy, despite the conversation, despite the possible intervals and outlooks. “Thank you.” Maybe she was. Maybe she wasn’t. But yes, she’d always try, for better or for worse, determination and resolution set into her bones from the moment she was born – setting courses for disaster and virtue, and everything else nestled in between. What was stopping her now? Doubt? Misgivings? The friends she’d tried to make along the way, the bizarre manifestation of everything else unfolding from detrimental, deviating efforts? She sighed, releasing a breath on the fringes of her smile. Perhaps this could be her path now, striving to alleviate any damage, any more recourse, any more results of blight, pestilence, or whatever else the Ascended and their lot continued to pursue. Which meant venturing into mountains, into unknown regions, delving further and further into curiosity, letting it take hold of her – again and again and again. “Do we know what else they’re capable of?” Besides the spread of disease and death? Were there any other things to fear? Acceptance of the task finessed and fissured its way into her bones, a sensation of might curling its way into her sanction – more so than she’d had in a long, long time.
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Spooky Rags


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#12

Buoyant with Melita's own sense of pride, Ludo seemed content to watch the honeybee girl and her renewed confidence, however fleeting it might turn out to be. Still, its rags drooped again somewhat at her question; she might already know its answer from that gesture alone. "It is hard to say," it admitted. "From within the barrier, they are not capable of more than what you have already seen. Now...?"

Now who knew. The Voice had already been stretching her legs, it appeared, with acts like that which had transformed Wessex. "I do not know," it said. "Time will tell, and time alone. Tread carefully, sweetling, if you endeavour to find out."

LUDO
Braved the forests, braved the stone
Braved the icy winds and fire
Braved and beat them on my own

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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Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,647
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#13
MELITA
From within, before walls came down, before everything was opened, the Ascended had been trapped, just like the rest. The ominous bells, the foreboding shifting, the way rags and fabric dropped gave everything away well before Ludo’s admittance: now hovering over her, over all of them, like knives and daggers poised to hang over their backs, their spines, nooses stretched and coiled, the basking, bating unknown a threatening, looming void. Had she not experienced the blight, the girl might not have held any misgivings, had she not been exposed to LongNight’s grasp, she might not have wondered and wandered into vast trepidations. Except all of it remained chiseled in her mind, and couldn’t settle, couldn’t prosper, couldn’t divine what else was to come. Opened portals were sanctities, but the rest – what came after, what came next, what could torture, what could ravage?

I do not know. Even the deities, even the heralds, didn’t know what they’d be facing. Perhaps even that was unnerving.

All she could do was nod her head, refusing to bite her lip in apprehension, refusing to back down or away from the storm. “I will try.” A comforting smile extended, for who she couldn’t quite say, as she bowed, as she pondered over circumstances and matters. “Thank you.” Then she too seemed to drift away, along the glade’s spring grasses, the gourd tucked against her ankles, her thoughts occupied, forlorn, and concerning.

- FIN
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun


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