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Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 3,156 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#1
WESSEX
There’s a slight sense that she’s failed, but it’s as faint as the memories of Deepfrost on this warm, Flowerbirth day. If they were going to go into the actual statistics of the vote, more people voted for her than for any other option, the no’s being diverse and selfish and stupid, in some cases. They’d demonstrated an inability to come to a consensus, trigger-happy in their assumptions (as always) and an almost combative need to be right, to have the best idea. Wessex will vote for the council with the rest of them, but she has a feeling they’ll soon find they’re a shit lot to lead and are each other’s problems, now. Whether it will foster relationships or cause schisms is hard to say, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to watching

Now, Wessex doesn’t want them to fail. She just wants some loud-mouths humbled. Tyrant? Hardly.

She's practicing her newest ability when she all of a sudden pops up into the shadow of a slanted former wall.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
Clemente Belcourt
Apprentice

Age: 23 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 13 - Luck: 16 - Int:
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#2
Clemente
To say Clem's life has been turned upside down is an understatement. Which really, considering his entire life history and the fact he was magically transported here not long ago, says a lot about the current time period. Part of him knows he's being childish and unfair, considering how little directly impacts him. Rexanna is the one thrust into leadership, Wessex is the one deposed, all of his Ascended family are moving forward and breaking ground and he's just. Here. Burdensome and useless.

After Amun had told him he could take his books home from the Atheneum, he'd studied for days between visiting Dante and tiptoeing around Rexanna and Bastien. But even his desire to be useful can't make him sit with his nose in a book for too long. The outside world calls, the woods and earth that he'd never gotten to experience and still has so much left to explore. When darkness descends he jogs out into the night, beyond every marker he knows until every bit of scenery is new and untouched by his gaze. Part of him longs to feel the crisp spring air, the soft give of earth beneath his feet, things he never got to experience before and now never will. But Clem's lungs don't wheeze and rattle with illness anymore when he runs. His throat doesn't burn and his legs don't ache with exertion. This body of his may be different, but it's stronger. Isn't that what he'd always wanted back then? To be stronger?

So involved in his slow-paced exploration and the blinding miasma of his own musings, Clem startles at the sudden appearance of a figure in the shadows, whirling and lifting his fists with a snarl more befitting an alley dog than a sixteen year old boy. Until he recognizes Wessex in the next half moment, and drops his arms to grin broadly at her. "That was so cool," he praises, starstruck as always by her never-ending skills and hidden tricks. Swiftly his expression falters, recalling how she had been unfairly voted out of her position, the last time he'd seen or spoken to her. She may always be Queen to him, but how does she feel in the end? "Are you okay?" Not that he thinks she'd share her innermost worries with him, but it feels wrong not to ask.
i felt so much so often
that i started to feel nothing

Table Code by Sky!
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 3,156 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#3
WESSEX
One day, he’ll feel all those things again. All he has to do is wait and work hard at it, because the Voice always rewards hard work. She loves her children and wants them to be strong, and Wessex is so sure that she’ll adore Clem once they meet - if they haven’t already. The ex-Queen’s thoughts had often turned to the boy post-LongNight, quite sure that Bastien and Rex were taking good care of him but not wanting to overstep any adoptive parent boundaries they might have in place. She knows full well that she’ll never have kids - has never wanted kids - but there’s a reason she’s taken to Melita and Clem, a reason she’ll swallow her annoyances with Oliver and train him, a reason she still fucking puts up with Amalia - and it’s because there’s still some sort of maternal instinct left in her.

A sense of protecting and ushering in a new generation, even if they aren’t all on her ‘side.’ And if she’s truly being honest with herself, it doesn’t stop with the youngsters; that protective element extends to all the Ascended. Her family.

So it’s an understatement when I say she didn’t mean to startle Clem. The first thing she hears when she materializes again is a half-human, half-animal sound, causing her to reflexively unleash her talons in return. But nothing comes flying at her, and she recognizes the boy probably around the same time he recognizes her. The shiny lengths of metal retract in to her knuckles as Wessex grins in relief at an enthusiastic greeting instead of a hostile one. “Hey Clem,” Taking a quick look at the dark environment, she can see that he’s alone. “Thanks. It’s new. Whatcha doin’?”

Something seems to hit him and she doesn’t know what it is - an emotion, clearly, but what prompts it is unknown. Is she ok? Of course she’s ok, she’s The Wraith. “What do you mean?” Is she leaking shiny fluid from somewhere she can’t see?
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
Clemente Belcourt
Apprentice

Age: 23 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 13 - Luck: 16 - Int:
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#4
Clemente
They are like alley cats standing in uneasy counterpoint, he a kitten with fluffed fur and tiny needle teeth, she with wicked claws and no need for such showy displays. But as recognition settles in both the hackles smooth and Clem's starstruck countenance returns with a swiftness. She deigns to use the shortened name he had given her, and the young boy practically puffs up like a preening pigeon beneath such a simple offhanded greeting. Over time her presence may not inspire such intensity of a reaction, but Wessex is still so lofty and prestigious in his eyes. "Are ya testin' it out?" He's not sure how such acquisitions work here, but if it's new it makes sense to practice it.

Scuffing a shoe against a loose rock in the rubble, he shrugs his shoulders. "Explorin'. I wanna find all the secret places here, and it's quieter at night." Though he tries to hide it there's a relief to his expression, a gratitude for the lack of unknown, nosey people who ratchet up his anxiety. Caido people are just so much more annoyingly interested in his life. Like they've never seen a damn kid before.

It feels almost taboo to talk about the meeting, the inevitable decisions that had come about. His shoulders hunch automatically, history telling him he's treading on delicate ground and may be punished for his insolence. "After...after the meeting. Are you okay? With not uh...bein' Queen?"
i felt so much so often
that i started to feel nothing

Table Code by Sky!
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 3,156 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#5
WESSEX
“Yep. Practice makes perfect.” A brief pause as she considers the teleportation. “And this one is fun. I like trying to see how accurate I can be.” It’s useful and practical. How else will she know where to land if she doesn’t practice? There’s no point in teleporting somewhere if she can’t put herself somewhere safe, especially if she needs to be somewhere specific.

Secret places, eh? He’s managed to stumble on to the right person on the right night. Timing is everything.

“Take my hand,” she says after he finishes asking about her, impulsively thrusting a hand towards the kid, never thinking that he won’t grab it. And if he does, she closes her eyes and ‘sees’ where she wants to go: an attic, not so easily accessible unless you know the secret door in one of the overgrown houses, which she’ll show him on the way out. But for now, it’s an attic with half a roof, covered in moss and holes where the floor has rotted away. A dangerous place to play, perhaps, but perfect if he ever wants to look at the stars and enjoy a little peace and quiet. Or some privacy, as young men often need. Wink wink.

“How’s this for secret?” Wessex drops his hand and spreads her arms wide. It isn’t grand, or anything, but it’s a place she’s fond of and is happy to share with the next generation. Few know about it, and of those who do, wonders if they’d ever remember.

Taking a seat on the floor, Wessex leans against a wall and goes back to the question Clem asked. He can sit with her or stand, it doesn’t matter. But it is time to have an adult conversation with him and bring him in to the fold, so to say. “I’m mostly ok with it. Ninety percent or so. I really did want to help my people, and in some ways I succeeded. Failed in others. But what’s more important is that I’ve traded it in for something better. Before I tell you what that is, tell me what you saw at the meeting while I was gone.” He had been tasked with being her eyes and ears during LongNight and that assignment wasn’t over. The Wraith didn’t need to be in that room to get information, she got a lot of it from just reading the results. However, she is very curious as to what she’s missed and what kind of observation skills the kid has.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
Clemente Belcourt
Apprentice

Age: 23 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 13 - Luck: 16 - Int:
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#6
Clemente
The sudden question doesn't phase the boy, trustingly placing his hand in hers immediately, no greater faith in the world than what he has in her in that moment. Knowing she will lead him safely into the night, wherever she deigns to take him. And there aren't words to describe the sensation of teleporting, which still seems far too much like a comic book power to him. But the instinctive shut of his eyes is only soothed by the immediate knowledge from his other senses that they are somewhere different. And when he opens them again, starlight shines through broken boards, the night sky peeking out in an uneven swathe of ruin. She has brought him to a small hideaway, a secret place just as she says, and he stares around the room with wonderment more befitting great palaces instead of derelict attics. To Clem, this is far better. More meaningful.

"I love it," he vows solemnly, though he can't fully rid his voice of the thread of childlike wonder that infuses it. Teleportation and secret hiding spots? Literally the coolest thing that has happened to him since...well...falling through realms of existence into an entirely new world, new body free of charge.

But the time for childishness is over, and he sits crosslegged in front of her like an attentive pupil, face serious. He had taken his job seriously, had practically memorized every word during the meeting - easier than reading will likely ever be for him - and he recites it as carefully as he can. "I dunno all the names, but I can point them out if I see them. The first guy, they called him a Launcelyn, he said you were too violent getting the portal open and blamed you for not tracking down a girl - his cousin - who came here and lockin' her up. Then he offered himself up t' rule. But then Phoebe -" a name he only knows due to the luck of being in the Temple during LongNight and having to know who sheltered them during those long sunless days "- shot him down. Said that being a Launcelyn was too strong a point against him, and that we needed a leader who cared more about makin' the Grounds stable than carin' about opening the Greatwood again. She didn't really take sides, just wanted someone who wasn't tied to other people." He curses his own speech mannerisms, wishing he had the vocabulary to better describe what he'd seen and heard to the matriarch of their little family. There had been many voices raised that evening, and he tries to cut out the fluff and get to the core of each point that had been brought up, otherwise they risk being out until the sun rises and Clem turns to dust.

"Rexanna wanted a council, one that didn't make the Naturals angry fer bein' ignored, and Oliver did too but he said he didn't trust ya to be unbiased, thought you'd be the one to make it. They all said they wanted it to be even and fair though, with lotsa different people and races on it at least." Small mercies really that they had all managed to agree on that one democratic stance, considering the verbal barrage that had happened next. Clemente's brow crinkles as he mulls over the memory of it, wanting to ensure that each representation is precise without talking her ear off in imitation of every sentence. "The white haired dude was an asshole. Didn't even really talk 'bout anything that had meaning, just wanted to talk shit, said you were a murderer and tried t' twist yer words that you didn't let 'em choose the council option 'fore you left. But then he suggested a few people by name that he recommended for the council and voted." His recommendations mean little to Clemente, considering that it was likely something to be voted on beneath Rexanna's power now, but if Wessex inquires he will do his best to drudge up their names and reasonings to lay before her. Any kind of knowledge is power after all, and this dude seems like public enemy number one to Clem.

"Redhead girl went next, said it was stupid that Launcelyn blamed you for not getting his cousin when you can't be everywhere, and said we were all dumb for not asking for a meetin' earlier. She wanted a council, but also like voting people int'a positions and bootin' them out if they didn't deliver. Then said to pick a new leader who would allow a council like that." She had certainly spoken a lot, and there had been no voices to rise beneath the swell of hers in the aftermath. He can't help but like her for that - or perhaps because of the protectiveness of her stance near Dante, who he cares for so deeply. "Nobody else said anything after that." Clem looks to her, hoping he hasn't been too vague, too childish in his retelling of the event.
i felt so much so often
that i started to feel nothing

Table Code by Sky!
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 3,156 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#7
WESSEX
A small thrill runs through her when Clem says he loves the place; the boy steps into the role of faux-child and her into the role of faux-aunt more easily than she could have ever dreamed of with real children - which, let’s be real, we all know Wessex isn’t suited for. But the cool older Aunt / matriarch? That she is suited for.

She listens attentively, hands idly running along the edges of her leather pieces, sometimes looking at Clem, but never interrupting. She’d prefer to hear it all first and then maybe ask questions. Some parts surprise her - like the fact that Rex was the one who suggested the council. Wessex thought she might have said something to garner so much support in the votes, and some of it feels like an immediate betrayal. The rest of her knows that the woman has enough diplomatic experience to be able to read a situation and try to get the best out of it. Maybe that meant getting her out of office without a violent coup. Maybe that meant putting another Ascended in charge… it’ll be something to think about.

Eyebrows raise at Loren’s report, not knowing that Zariah had come through the portal while she’d been in Halo. She isn’t surprised he spoke out about her, they’d never seen things the same way. But to blame her while he was half the militia? Well that was simply avoiding responsibility. Good for Phoebe, at least. She was right, having Launceleyns in power in both places would not be good. And the rest of the Grounds seemed to agree. Was he the only one to vote for himself? Oh, what a selfish, pompous prick…

Oliver can fuck off. She’s never liked the weakling. The irony, of course, is that if they’d kept her, they’d have a council already. But here they are, a season already almost gone and nothing to show for it. Which may be why councils don’t work, but, ahhh… not her concern anymore.

As for the redheaded girl. She frowns a bit, trying to figure out who that might be. “The redheaded girl - did she have wavy or straight hair?” Recent experience tells her that it probably isn’t Melita, who still burns with anger for imagined or actual slights. “The white haired man, Jigano - he tried to kill me, too, which is what he conveniently forgets to say every time he calls me a murderer. Watch out for him. He can be a white fox or a white raven or a silver dragon. And I have no doubt that he would try to kill one of us again and call it duty to the Old Gods.” She shakes her head, dismissing thoughts of the bard.

“Ya did good, Clem. Thanks.” She has much to think about, to keep in her mind for future interactions. Leaning forward, leaning towards him, she quiets her voice (though by now, with timey wimey’s, it’s no secret what she’s become). “Now, for that something better…” Wessex’s eyes grow bright, illuminate, and she might almost glow with the happiness and pride exuding from her normally stoic and stressed person. “At the portal, after I opened it, The Voice came to me. She said she’d made me a light to show the way, lift me up and make me brighter. And then, she made me a demi-god, infused me with power and gave me a new purpose. So you see… my work has narrowed. Though I do care for my people, I am no longer obligated to work in their best interest, and they’ve shown that they don’t want me to. I am for the Voice and the Voice alone. For Us.”

She sighs, ever so softly. “And sometimes that means taking all the anger and blame so that the others can live their lives. Rex was at the Mathair too, but no one really thinks of this anymore and I don’t want them to. We need her to keep her power and work for us in the government, whenever it forms. And I don’t want anyone hating Amun, Sam, Bastien, or you.

She gives him a measured look. Does he understand?
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
Clemente Belcourt
Apprentice

Age: 23 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 13 - Luck: 16 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 134 | Total: 6,169
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#8
Clemente
Her silence is peaceful, far from judgmental, and it soothes away his anxieties like water smoothing a rock's rugged surface over time. It's easier to tell her then, to report his findings and await her reaction as she chews it over slowly. Eager to please as a puppy, still held by the strappings of his hero-worship. And when she finally speaks, he quickly mulls through his memories to give her an adequate answer. "More straight. She was a Natural." That at least he knows with certainty from her speech. If Wessex knows that another redhead is not, maybe it'll be easier for them to narrow it down. Again he wishes people had announced their names, not because Clem cares to learn them, but because it would only make it easier to report things back to Wessex instead of relying on physical appearances.

He can't feel it, but the memory of a chill runs down his spine at the warning she gives. He is both embroiled with a sudden fierce hatred of the man, and a self-preserving fear that he has never been able to shake. One that had kept him alive during cold winters on darkened street corners, that had taught him when to fight and when to flee. His kind hadn't been hated in his old world, and his vulnerability here is far less, but the sentiment still aches and frightens him equally. So he nods firmly, committing the man's appearance, forms, and name to memory. Unwilling to forget if it means endangering himself or his family. "Is there anyone else I should avoid?" Nobody has given him an official list of who hates the Ascended and who may be considered an ally or friend, but if she knows of anyone else he'd at least like to know. Knowledge alone is a weapon, and for Clem it's one he clings to, incapable of the strength of his little ragtag family members.

Strength that, for Wessex, seems to have exponentially increased. The glow of her eyes silences him, and the wash of her words drowns him as he eagerly clings to the secret she shares. She is so much more than Queen and Wraith now. She is godly. And isn't that just further, cementing proof of her brilliance? Chosen by their maker, lifted up into her esteem. And it makes sense that her duties have therefore changed, even if she will always be Queen in his heart. Matriarch, guide, protector. "I understand," he says softly, eyes wide and guileless. "Why...why do they hate us so much, though? Why can't they just let th' Gods do what they want, and worship 'em outside that?" A childish notion perhaps. Religion hadn't really existed in his homeworld, and he's just desperate for his family to be safe, happy, free from the shackles of discrimination and prejudice.
i felt so much so often
that i started to feel nothing

Table Code by Sky!
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,156 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#9
WESSEX
“Ah, that was probably Evie, then. She’s a good one,” Wessex responds with a smile after identifying the mystery redhead. If nothing else, she has nothing bad to say about the other Wordsworth twin and in the Theskyra’s world, that’s almost golden. She’ll have to thank her for standing up for the absent then-queen, because she certainly didn’t have to say any of it.

She frowns a bit, trying to think of anyone Clem should stay away from. “The only other person who’s as vehemently anti-Ascended is Amalia, but she would never hurt you.” Not yet, anyway. It pains her to think that, but the girl’s dedication to life is bound to come to an end one day, if she’s ever faced with a situation where she has to decide between ‘stopping’ the Voice and not. Or so the Wraith believes. “I’d just say watch what you say to whom. People can’t keep secrets. And you never know who’s doing what for the Old Gods” Their own siblings have had a bad case of motor-mouth from time to time.  

People just can’t be trusted. Even Wessex, sometimes.
Clem’s different, though; she would consider moving mountains to keep his faith in her.

So when he asks why they hate them, Wessex looks up at the sky and tries to find where to begin. “It’s complicated. I think a lot of it comes down to an irrational fear, the fear of something different from themselves, the fear of change. And the blight had a lot of unintended consequences for us - no one wants to lose control like that. That the Voice could do that again to them is terrifying.” She can’t blame them, really. Wessex would probably be afraid of that, too. “We’re stuck in a war between the Gods. The Old ones use their followers to hurt us, and thereby hurt the Voice. And she has used us, too. Remember that you never have to do anything for her unless you want to. She will love you regardless. And so will I.”
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
Clemente Belcourt
Apprentice

Age: 23 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 13 - Luck: 16 - Int:
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#10
Clemente
Clem files away the redhead's name for future interactions with the woman if he ever comes across her. At least he knows faces and can pin them to what they'd said at the meeting at least, and that gives him an advantage that means more than simply knowing what their parents slapped together into a title when they came out of the womb. Clem is good at listening, secreting away knowledge. The names will come in time, of that he's certain.

He takes the warning - and the second name - and keeps it close to heart, nodding seriously. Wessex may assure that Amalia would never hurt him, but Clemente can't help but doubt. Not Wessex of course, but this unknown woman who is so against his family. Clem has seen the weight and cruelty of prejudice. Even the smallest crumb of trust in her to not hurt him is a chance he can't take.

Finally, after all this time in Caido, he gets to know why. Even on a surface level it is a satiation of painful curiosity that he has held since he first discovered the differences in his body upon arriving. Despite feeling satisfied with knowing, the pain doesn't abate. It claws up his chest and takes hold of his throat, and he's glad he doesn't have to feel the way it would have once made his breathing short and stiff with emotion. "Th' Old Gods ain't perfect either," he growls lowly, recalling the anonymous posting on the Notice Board (unaware it had been Sam who had written it), the knowledge that the Old Gods had put innocent people in the barrier without caring, just knowing it would lock away The Voice. His shoulders slump with a relief he didn't know he needed as she says that both she and The Voice will still love him, even if he refuses a command. Clem has so much he wants to say, to ask. To thank her for her devotion, to ask if she's sure out of his own insecurity. Instead he blurts out a response that comes straight from the electric cradle of his heart before he has a chance to swallow it down. "I love you too." Big guileless eyes stare at her, feeling swallowed up by her love. By the devotion she has to her Ascended family, just as potent and powerful and stubborn as The Voice herself. "I...I just want to be helpful. To the family." Because that's what they are to him. Family. Not just a group of people lumped by race. The one thing he has looked for all this time, ever since his father abandoned him and his mother chose an endless high over a son whose name she soon forgot. Here, beneath the moon and the stare of his matriarch, he is overflowing with emotion so bright and electric it dances on his tongue. Demanding some sort of outlet but not wanting to invade her space, to push too far. Always, always, always aware of the burden his presence puts on others.
i felt so much so often
that i started to feel nothing

Table Code by Sky!
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,156 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#11
WESSEX
Oh, his indignation is delightful. Wessex fairly glows with pride as Clem growls, unable to see the pain that accompanies it. “Of course they aren’t. They’re probably the biggest assholes here, but they’re assholes with an immense amount of power, so there is little we can do but live our lives the way we want to. Living is the best revenge against the Old Gods, their followers… and even the Fae. I forgot to mention them, but you should really stay out of the Greatwood. They aren’t messing around.” And that’s all he needs to know right now, this young, accidental Ascended who has stumbled into their world and their hearts.

When he says he loves her, Wessex’s non-beating heart melts, her eyes mirroring his affection in a more adult, tempered way, but obvious nonetheless. She grins and leans forward, adjusting her legs so that cross-legged and opens her arms, making a space for him beside her. “That was the best thing you could say,” she says softly, motherly, momentarily taken back to when Amalia was a kid. Gesturing for the kid to come closer, she waits for him to accept the offer or not, and if he doesn’t, then she reaches for his hands instead.

“It’s not a lot, but do you want to help me gather rocks in the Fangs?” because what are timelines “I’ve got a small job to do, but I would love the company. And I want to know more about you.” Who he is, where he came from, who Dante is… the whole shebang. It's her job to keep the marginalized in the family fold, and if giving him little things to do is the way to do it, then lord, she has plenty of tricks up her sleeve.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
Clemente Belcourt
Apprentice

Age: 23 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 13 - Luck: 16 - Int:
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#12
Clemente
Dark thoughts swirl behind pale eyes, recalling scumbag druglords and haughty rich bastards who would sooner kick out at him like he was a diseased raccoon aiming for their ankles than spare some of their endless profit for the less fortunate. "Power 'n assholery go hand in hand," he grumbles in agreement, bitter that this too has followed him from his old home. "Why do th' Fae care about us? I've never even met one." Puzzlement is clear on his face, wanting to know every little thing Wessex could ever teach him and more. Of course he wouldn't dare to test her warning considering the amount of faith he places in her, but he can't help his curiosity. Even if it's just a sad reality of the Fae being just as prejudiced and conditioned as the Grounders.

There are no such fears and weights upon his shoulders, not when she opens her arms and reflects the depths of his love back at him in her eyes. Clem scrambles to her open embrace, tucking himself down smaller until he can fit and mold himself along her side. For a singular moment, despite all it has given him, he regrets not being able to feel or smell the same. He wants to know her natural scent, the one every child can recall of those closest to them. To feel the warmth of her embrace as she pulls him into her side. But in the face of all he has gained it is not a loss he can mourn for long.

"Yeah!" he practically gushes at the offer to visit the Fangs. He hasn't had much of a chance to explore the new land, and that only adds to his desire to tag along to help. Though he smiles shyly at her admission, shrugging limply under her arm. "Awh, m'not that interestin'. You can ask anythin'." Whatever she wants to know about him is free knowledge for her.
i felt so much so often
that i started to feel nothing

Table Code by Sky!
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
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#13
WESSEX
Sorry kid, some things will be the same across all worlds. Power corrupts. She can say that because it’s even corrupted her a little bit.

A deep sigh as Wessex looks up at the moon again, relishing the feeling of a body pressed up against hers, even if they can’t feel each other’s warmth (or lack thereof) “Well, the Fae are deeply,deeply set in the ways of the Old Gods. They’re more in tune with the earth, have some different magics… so for anything to be technologically altered in a way that is unnatural is an abomination. According to them we shouldn’t exist. And after the Fae died at the Mathair, it became too much.” With this much distance between herself and the event, the Wraith can’t say she faults Delah for acting the way she did. Had Wessex been in a position where her people had gotten killed, she probably would have come down hard on the other party, too.

In some other world, they might have been besties, the strongest pair of co-rulers or allies the world had ever seen. But here, by virtue of birth and choices, they are enemies. And Wessex would love nothing more than to see Delah stripped of her power and made to look like a fool in front of her people. Take that arrogance down a shitload of notches. “According to them, we killed something sacred. And according to the Voice, the tree was a portal before a spirit ever took up residence in it and we were returning it to its original state.”

There’s a gentle lavendar lightening of the sky at the edges of the roof, the sign that the sun is beginning to come back around. “Nonsense. You had a life before you came here. I want to know how you became you. A dramatic pause. “But the sun is rising. So let’s save it for the Fangs ok? Meet me at the portal in two nights?” Adjusting herself ever so slightly, that’s his sign to get up. He should head inside before the sun fully rises – it wouldn’t do have him burnt to a crisp.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
Clemente Belcourt
Apprentice

Age: 23 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 13 - Luck: 16 - Int:
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#14
Clemente
"People die when anyone has different ideas," he mumbles, too hardened by finding still bodies on the streets, of reaching for his mother's wrist and finding no pulse. At least Clem can't fault the Fae for their deep ties to nature, even if it puts them at odds with his family. He couldn't care less about the Greatwood, and he's used to the age old understanding of respecting each other's territories. At least now he knows.

But they don't have forever. For all her strength, Clem is not nearly as resistant to sunlight as the demigoddess, and goodbyes have to be spoken in the twilight hours as the sun begins to rise. Clem rises as she shuffles, giving one last hug and a smile that translates all his love and excitement before he maneuvers through the rubble back into the shadows where the sun can't touch him.

- Fin!
i felt so much so often
that i started to feel nothing

Table Code by Sky!


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