it's burning in the bloodline
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#1
Amalia
the shield of safrin
"Mort... fuck, what am I doing?"

The Amalia who stands before the shrine is not the Amalia of years before. Even months, weeks, days- she is different, harder now, the ever-present cracks in her damaged veneer no longer hidden beneath good intention and hope.

The Amalia who stands before the shrine is whole in body, but her spirit is broken beyond repair, a piece of it gone forever.

"I don't know if you can hear me. Or if you're listening. If you care." In her arms, a small bundle wrapped in a thick black cloth, clutched against her chest: the only thing she has left of him, and even that is nothing. Just an empty husk of metal, no soul beneath the shiny veneer. A ring pulled from his home, silver with an ornate skull.

Kneeling, she sets it on the ground.

Is she crying? No- she hasn't cried yet, not since that moment (how long ago? How recent? It can't have been more than a few hours, but it feels like days and like moments and like if she stops too long to think about it it will still be happening now). Is it too late to do something? Too soon? She can feel the fallen leaves of trees pressing into her knees, the hard earth digging against her toes. "I want... I want to know that their souls are safe, I guess. And that if there was a way to get them back... I would do it. To fix my mistakes."
she is calm in the storm
and anxious in the quiet
Spooky Rags


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#2
ludo
"To get them back you would need to trade eternal life. Twice over." Ludo's voice was frank and quiet, the deity appearing in a whisper of fabric, silent, still, solemn. It hovered just above Amalia, watching her and watching the bundle she clutched so closely to her chest. "Of course they are safe. I took them to Mort myself. They are happy, without pain, without care..." Everything one would hope after death.

"But I sense, sweetling, that you are unhappy about this. Would you have them back for yourself, if you could?" It tilted its head.

Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#3
Amalia
the shield of safrin
Ludo appears without fanfare or parade: it is simply there in front of her, pitch black fabric and a porcelain face. A cost too high for her to ever repay, lives for lives, and her own isn't worth enough. Amalia's fingers tighten on the bundle; she drops her onyx eyes.

At least they are safe. Relief floods through her like a moving boulder, rolling off her chest. "I... I was afraid they'd be lost. Like the LongNight souls." There are tears on her lashes; she blinks them away. "That you wouldn't be able to find them in the ice." She can picture Adam's face so perfectly, frozen forever with that stupid grin.

Her chest tightens again.

Turning her face up to Ludo, Amalia licks her lips. "Yes.. no... I don't know." Of course she wants them back, but Ludo has already told her she can't afford the fee. "I... I wish I could have had more time. That I'd told him how much he meant to me, and taken him on adventures, and shown him the ocean. I wanted him to be at my wedding, and I wanted to be at his. I wanted a life with him, and instead I didn't even get to say goodbye."
she is calm in the storm
and anxious in the quiet
Spooky Rags


Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#4
ludo
"As long as the longest of nights is not upon us, I can find any, sweetling," Ludo explained solemnly; those trapped in ice or alone in the cold were no exemption, particularly for this ragged god. In the face of her grief, her what-ifs and I-wants, Ludo drifted to drape itself about her like a shawl, mask pressed close to her face.

"Why?" it asked. "Why lament what did not happen? It does a disservice for the memories that you did make. The times you did share." At its words, those very memories would spring to the forefront of Amalia's mind, and with them the joy of those occasions.

"These are how we live beyond death," it said of the memories. "If you have these, they remain still."

Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
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#5
Amalia
the shield of safrin
Perhaps finding solace in the arms (rags?) of a god of death is not something an outlander might understand, but for Amalia it is a strangely comfortable thing, a natural place for her to be. The fabric draped around her shoulders is incredibly comforting and inviting; she lets her heavy eyes fall shut, leaning so her cheek brushes on the porcelain mask.

"I don't want to do a disservice to him." The memories that rush into Amalia's mind are hot enough to sear, bright and beautiful and almost tangible enough that she could cling to him, if only she tried.

Adam in her shop on that fateful first meeting, offering to make out with her, the blush on her cheeks; Adam in her bedroom looking at the stars and telling her about himself, the scars on his chin, while she lay beside him as high as a kite. The two of them facing down the cat sith in Ludo's woods; the weird introduction of Peter and Deimos.

Adam holding her in that infirmary bed, when she thought she would never smile again, and somehow, someway, against all odds, making her laugh.

"What do we do with the memories, Ludo? How do we keep them from disappearing?" With time, with new experiences, with pain. Her mother, her grandmother, the countless others she's lost. "Is there a way... a way to give them life? To, to make sure they don't fade away, even when they're in Mort's realm?"
she is calm in the storm
and anxious in the quiet
Spooky Rags


Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#6
ludo
For a moment Ludo simply stood there, wrapped about Amalia to bask in the memories of the men she had lost, met, loved and laughed alongside. And it shifted strangely around her, rags a-flutter, as it considered the idea of keeping memories alive... separate and alive. "There is good and bad about such an idea, sweetling. To pull our memories outside our heads, to keep them apart, where they cannot be tainted or forgotten."

Drifting up and around her, Ludo paused with its mask mere inches away. "But they are in danger when tangible. Imagine memories that could be lost, stolen, broken, taken forever..." Its rags shrugged. "An interesting idea, though, to be sure."

Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#7
Amalia
the shield of safrin
She sighs softly, resisting the urge to lean forward and place her forehead against the mask- a deeply irreverent movement in its presumed familiarity. Instead she lowers her face to her hands, pulling out the silver ring and rolling it between her fingers. "What about the memories kept alive in objects? Or images? Or are those only there as long as someone... someone still exists to remember it?"

Death feels final and so far away; Amalia misses the people she's lost with a quiet desperation, despite her attempts to keep the memories of them warm and alive. "I know that it's selfish... but I miss them so much. And I worry... what if I don't remember the right things? What if I forget their faces?" She swallows back frustration, with herself rather than any other, before a thought strikes her. Raising her eyes back to the god, the baker bites her lip. "Have you ever lost someone, Ludo?" Amalia asks, her voice soft.
she is calm in the storm
and anxious in the quiet
Spooky Rags


Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#8
ludo
Ludo did not respond, uncomprehending of what she meant. A memory lived within a person, whether or not it was triggered by an object or otherwise. The object was an object to all but the person to whom the memory held value. Its point remained the same: to extract a memory would be to keep it safe from forgetting. But not from destruction or loss.

"Sweetling, you know well the ways of our lands. Do you not make lanterns every year for those you miss? Are you not able to dedicate yourself to remembering?" It patted her head with a rag, assuming her to be lost in her grief currently. The question took the deity off guard, Ludo's mask growing carefully blank.

"I do not understand," it said. Did a deity of death lose anyone, truly?

Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#9
Amalia
the shield of safrin
Yes, there are lanterns; Amalia nods her head obediently, biting on her lip. Memories are such fickle things: how can she trust herself to keep them correctly, to know what parts she forgot? In the wake of so many other failures, she does not want to fail in this, too. "I'll make lanterns for them," she promises instead of questioning further, pushing back a lock of hair behind her ear. "May I hang them here, with you?"

The effect of her second question is unexpected, and as Ludo draws away Amalia suddenly feels a clench of dread in her gut. The blank mask seems an ill omen of sorts; swallowing, she tries to find the right words. "I meant... if there had been someone. Or something. A memory, or a soul you hadn't been able to..." The ring flips again between her fingers. The souls in the Spire that Safrin and Delphia had spoken of rise in her mind, but she doesn't feel comfortable bringing it up now. She has already assumed too much. "I'm sorry. It's wrong of me to presume to understand the gods, and to question them. You."
she is calm in the storm
and anxious in the quiet
Spooky Rags


Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: - Strg: - Dext: - Endr: - Luck: - Int:
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#10
ludo
Ludo was silent and still for what seemed like an eternity, as if readjusting itself or deciding something about Amalia. Whatever it was, the baker was unlikely to know any of it. Eventually it began to bob and weave again, upwards this time, towards the trees.

"You may hang your lanterns here," it said simply. "Though you may prefer to do so at the festival. Who knows? I may find them particularly striking."

And Amalia would know what that entailed, for the lucky lantern-maker at the Festival of Lights.

Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#11
Amalia
the shield of safrin
She's pushed too far in a strange direction, tried to gain something she has no understanding of or right to. Amalia can sense this in Ludo's silence, the soul gatherer's entire response to her shifting; when it pulls away she drops her head, pious and contrite.

"Thank you, Ludo." Her tone is sincere: she is grateful for what she's gained here, grateful to know that her loved ones are safe. It doesn't erase the pain she feels, but it is perspective, a reminder that she has to keep on. That living is important, in the face of death. "I'll hang their lanterns there," she agrees, watching the spirit drift out of sight.

Only when Ludo has entirely disappeared does Amalia rise and leave.
she is calm in the storm
and anxious in the quiet


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