[se] and the cry goes out
Open Safrin offering!
Melita Najya


Age: 20 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 7 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 28
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
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#1
to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
Another walk on the sands in the dead of night, hoping Nate would appear, hoping he was nearby, hoping there was some god damned salvation in the midst of all this turmoil. Perhaps he’d turn up in between the contortions of shadow, and she would swallow down the trail of bile in her throat, the worry, the apprehension, that he’d found fire and lit himself apart. Her lantern lifted, she and Fangorn glided along the dunes, eyes catching the bewitching, enigmatic arc across the sky, the telltale sign of sunset poignantly grasping down into the ethers, and a prayer rose from her lungs; to the lady who ruled the night. “Safrin, is there going to be a way to fix this?”

She didn’t expect an answer, and the wind curled around her in a steady stream of silence. Strength ensured she didn’t tremble or shake, a deep, inherent trace of mettle and grit contorted into the fibers in her joints, muscles, flesh, sinew, and bones, and her soul would withstand a lot more.

But could Sunjata? Could the rest of them, coiled amongst their wounds and fevers?

The girl turned to the ocean, staring out over its expanse, standing still as it pushed at her toes. Could the Ascended be out there, in the mystical void, where he didn’t need to breathe, and only needed to sink, to descend, to become the opposite of his race, and flicker into the fathoms? Where they couldn’t reach him? Where he could hide?

Her eyes narrowed, and remembered their distaste of water. So instead, she lowered and crouched before the sea, proferring, extending, one more fraction into its midst. A little ivory stone, remarkably like the one Safrin had granted and shared with her seasons upon seasons before (but not the same, for it was cherished and beloved, safe in her wares) was held in her grasp. It reminded her of moons, of beings in the sky, of celestial wakes that might know far more than they ever could – and she tossed it, as if a wish would come true, as if a plea could be heard. “Please let me find him.” An offering in the begging circumstances, before she had to turn away – treading further along the shoreline, following no pathways, no hints, no clues.
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
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Blacksmith

Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#2
You make my heart shake bend and break
Gentle paws track their way along the sand

The raining down of water has left Oliver with quite a lot to think about, so much so that he needs to get out. Do anything to keep his mind off of things. His first shift, the fox, felt the most comforting in this moment. After a nice long bath, he set out, venturing to wherever his senses carried him.

Eventually, he finds his way to the coast. It was strange to be by the water: something that once filled him with extreme terror. His memories of the days prior were fuzzy, but he could vaguely remember being terrified of any body of water... otherwise why the fuck had he not taken a bath?

Anyways. After a bit of walking he spotted someone in the distance. Increasing his pace, he made his way over to the figure before he could fully recognize who it was. Melita.

Shifting back into his human form, he took a few steps closer. "Melita? Are you alright?" Was she sick? Maybe someone had some water left over..
OLIVER
Speaks with an Irish accent, however, some words come out with more of an 'American' accent
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Melita Najya


Age: 20 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 7 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 28
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
Played by: Heather Online
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#3
to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
There was a voice on the wind, but it wasn’t Nate’s. She turned along the moonlight reaches and lantern light, shifting it upwards until she could recognize the figure, the pitch, the tones. No Ascended, but the shape and figure was familiar. Oliver. A sigh, a lull, and her eyes shot back to the sea briefly, wondering if her prayers were answered, or ignored, spurned, rejected. “I’m okay.” Physically, she was fine, emotionally she was on a very thin line, a tether snapping at the sides. “I’ve been looking for Nate. Have you seen him?” The potential that Oliver had his eyes and ears elsewhere could be effective – maybe the Ascended had been out wandering, and he’d happened to catch him.

She tilted her head a fraction, lifting the light more. “How are you?” A worry, that more were the same, that it would keep going, keep unraveling, keep infiltrating everyone and everything.
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
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Blacksmith

Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#4
You make my heart shake bend and break
She certainly doesn’t seem okay. With everyone either sick or dealing with the sick, nobody has had time to be normal. It’s a lot and it’s tiring everyone out, which is apparent based on Melita’s response.

Her question brings a sigh and a shake of his head. ”No, I haven’t seen much of anyone since I came here.... I’ve only been around the people in the Grounds and even then, my memory of the last few weeks... it’s shitty, to be perfectly honest.” Vague memories of the people he spoke with surfaced, but none were helpful. None at all. ”I.... I did see Samuel and... he’s not doing great, not at all” Once more, his memories of his interactions were foggy, but he remembered clearly one of the things Samuel said to him.

A soft sigh and Oliver shakes his head. ”Ive been better...” His voice trails off and he nibbles on his lip. Judging by how Melita is speaking, she seems fine. She isn’t sick and that’s good, but he also is aware that she probably knows everything. Surely she’s heard about the sickness. ”I... just got the water, not long ago at all... and I have a lot to think about before it goes away.” It’s probably best to be honest with her, should she seek him out in the near future.
OLIVER
Speaks with an Irish accent, however, some words come out with more of an 'American' accent
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Melita Najya


Age: 20 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 7 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 28
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
Played by: Heather Online
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#5
to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
Another sigh exuded; but it wasn’t Oliver’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s really – just a series of circumstances that keep unwinding and unfurling at every possible turn. He hadn’t seen much of anyone, not that it would’ve mattered if he was sick, and based on her interactions with other afflicted individuals, it was a lost cause. Her eyes fell to the ground briefly, back to the sea, and then into the shadows, wondering if she was best to be chasing after them, instead of meandering here. “Remi said you have about a week.” From what she’d gathered at the meeting – and her hands clenched harder over the lantern, Fangorn uttering a hiss down by her ankles. “Nate’s sick too. And I promised to find him, but-,”

But she obviously hadn’t.

Melita set her jaw into a very stubborn line, rooting it down to the grit and mettle lodged in her enamel. “I’m sorry you’ve been ill. Some flowers were found too…maybe they’ll lead to something?” To curing? To salvaging? Much like Vi’s Roses? She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything, and it was frustration, discouraging, and irritating.
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
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Blacksmith

Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 20
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#6
You make my heart shake bend and break
It isn't long, not at all... a week is hardly enough time to say his goodbyes. "Oh- well... thank you... when we got the water it went super bad... so I didn't really have time to process anything that was going on." The only people around him were Ascended and they were all hurt, some more than others. It was terrifying and he could still feel the terror even now.

There's a nod of understanding and Oliver takes a step closer. "I could help you find him? If you'd like... though, I don't think he'd be all the way out here... I know I really hated water when I was sick." His voice trails off and he glances out to the ocean. "What brings you out here anyways? Why the ocean in specific?" She had been saying something when he arrived, but he didn't quite make it out. His curiosity was piqued and he was willing to listen to whatever she had to say.

Her sympathy isn't strong, not in his opinion. Then again, he really can't blame her. Dealing with sick people is hard enough. "It's... fine." It really and truly wasn't fine, not at all. "I hope that we can find a cure before it's too late... I don't want us to lose anyone to this sickness and if we can do something before they die then... that's what is most important." His words were soft and he was afraid. Oliver didn't want to die, not now. The safety of others was far more important than that, especially when so many people he cared about were probably suffering.
OLIVER
Speaks with an Irish accent, however, some words come out with more of an 'American' accent
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Melita Najya


Age: 20 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 7 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 28
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
Played by: Heather Online
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#7
to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
Her memories flickered to that particular event in Torchline, which also…hadn’t gone well. “Ours wasn’t great either.” Dramatics, an unfolding of theatrics, biting, starbolt throwing, enough chaos to last another season, when they were only in the midst of it. There was no way of knowing what else was to come, and that was the true trepidation laying in her soul, smothering down everything. What next? What other notions and disturbances would they be fending off? And when would this one be cleared up?

His mentioning of the water left her weary, a shrug to her shoulders to indicate her explanation. “I know – but I just wanted to make sure.” In case she missed him, overlooked him, happened to pass by where he was wandering, sauntering, the uncertainty plaguing her heart and lungs, desperate for any sort of clue or answer. “And I was offering something to Safrin. In case that helped.” Her gilded gaze settled back over the waves, where the little stone had fallen, no doubt picked up and tossed back into vestiges, hastened to roam like a piece of the moon.

The semblance and sensation of his worries, of his apprehensions, only served to amplify her own – the determination molded and melded into her brow, as her eyes dashed away from the shoreline. “We’ll find a cure.” Stubborn, stalwart, and audacious, the voice carried a range of assurances, and she left the doubts in her pulse, to coincide with the layers of bedlam stirred in her convictions. “I’m going to the Climb, later. To see if I can help discover something else too.”
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
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Blacksmith

Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#8
You make my heart shake bend and break
His lips crease into a frown. "The ascended... right?" That's all that needs to be said if that's the case. He can only guess that she dealt with the same thing... otherwise, what the fuck did Amalia do wrong?

Melita is worried and he understands. "If I see him, I'll find a way to help you get to him... okay? I know what this is like- or I can imagine... I know you'll find him. I'm sure he's fine." Oliver absolutely wasn't sure, but he should at least try to stay optimistic.

When Melita explained what she was doing, Oliver gave a nod of understanding. "Of course... I should do the same, honestly." A hum of thought and Oliver fishes into his pockets. Unfortunately, he doesn't have much, just a few rocks. "I guess this'll have to do." There's a small frown, knowing this is nothing like the rest of his offerings. Safrin deserves so much better and he can only hope he will be able to give her something up to par before he falls into the depths again.

Tossing them into the ocean, he stares out for a moment. "I really hope she knows what's going on... I hope any of the gods do..." He cant even say for sure if he spoke to her. He has zero memory of doing so, but how well can he trust his memories?

Her words of reassurance are kind, but when he looks back at her, the sadness is obvious in his eyes and face. "I really hope you're right... It's just scary, you know? Any day now I'm going to fall asleep and that's it... I won't be able to go back to normal. I cant even remember most of what happened, but I know how terrified I was." Melita didn't seem to get sick, by the sound of it, which is good. It makes him happy to know less people were suffering than he originally thought.

"I just hope that someone will be willing to help me when I need it, you know? Make sure I eat or drink or- something." Oliver knew he had lost weight, it was obvious to really anyone that got a good look at him. He hadn't bathed nor taken good care of himself at all. It was awful and he hated how it made him feel.
OLIVER
Speaks with an Irish accent, however, some words come out with more of an 'American' accent
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Melita Najya


Age: 20 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 7 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 28
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
Played by: Heather Online
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#9
to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
A sigh flickered through her, perhaps the first sign of her exhaustion, of her fatigue, in the run around. It wasn’t the same as those who were sick, and she wouldn’t compare herself to their ailment and affliction, but gods, when there was no end in sight, it only further amplified the weariness building in her veins. “Yeah…Sam bit Remi, and it was a mess.” A frown followed, and there was temptation in an eyeroll, but her gaze remained a resilient thing, caught amongst and amidst the throes of chaos. Bedlam was an unfortunate normalcy in her life. The offer Oliver extended was sweet, and she’d pay back its worth. “Thank you.”

And her feet began to wander, began to loom, trekking further down the shoreline with her lantern light, just in case, pausing while Oliver made his offering. Maybe it seemed insignificant, with everything else pummeling down around them, but at least it was something out of the haze. Fangorn grumbled an incoherent message, and she reached down into a crouch to scratch at his head, listening to the blacksmith.

In truth, she hadn’t gone to any of the gods for guidance. With the Ascended sick, it wasn’t like the blight, and had she wandered towards Ludo, she doubted the herald would’ve cared. It might’ve been overjoyed at the notion of the Voice’s clan fading away into nothingness. “Have you asked any of them?” Did anyone know what was going on, or were they all wandering around, blind and bewildered?

His words only reflected what the rest had likely been feeling – a certain aching hopelessness, hope dimming, outlined in fading aspects. “We’ll…we’ll find something.” Perhaps the tight, light smile would buoy some confidence, because she could feel herself faltering too. “And we’d all be willing to help.”
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
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Blacksmith

Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#10
You make my heart shake bend and break
His eyes widen in clear surprise and he gives her a look that purely reads What the actual fuck?! Because... WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! "Wait... what?! I meant the whole you know, burning! Bastien had some water land on his head and it burst into flames! What the actual fuck happened with you guys?" Oliver wasn't mad, no, but absolutely confused. What, did the water make Sam extra horny instead of burst into flames?!

Looking down at the grumbling pumpkin, Oliver offered him a soft smile. "Hey buddy... haven't seen you in a long while... she giving you lots of treats?" Before he was absolutely terrified of the creature. Now, he thought it wasn't cute, necessarily, but could understand their relationship, which was the cute part.... not that Melita was cute!

Unfortunately, he could only shake his head at her answer. "No... no, I haven't... I only really talk to Safrin and I can't go back to her, not yet at least... I have things to do first before I can do that again." Oliver wasn't sure if anyone had spoken to the gods lately. If they had, did they even remember it? Oliver knew his memories were fuzzy and could only assume the same went for everyone else.

Melita had a hope that had died out in Oliver. It did make him wonder for a moment, but he quickly found himself frowning once more. She offered the idea that someone would be there to help them, but Oliver could only shake his head. "I hope... I don't think anyone is well in the Grounds... and if they are, they sure as hell aren't coming anywhere near us. Only person from the Grounds I spoke to while sick was Amun and... honestly? I have absolutely no fucking idea what we did and what he said certainly didn't help that at all." It was a lot to say but Oliver clearly had a lot on his mind. His thoughts were racing and he had so many questions and so many fears and so little time to handle them all.
OLIVER
Speaks with an Irish accent, however, some words come out with more of an 'American' accent
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Melita Najya


Age: 20 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 7 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 28
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
Played by: Heather Online
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#11
to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
It sounded as though not many of these meetings had gone spectacularly well. Melita might have preferred the burning aspect (as an individual who favored fire at all times), over the dramatics along Torchline, but she heaved a quiet sigh. “I don’t know. It was all very fast. Ronin took care of it.” And by took care of it, she meant with vitriol and vehemence, something she might’ve wholeheartedly approved of in the chaotic interims, if he hadn’t knocked Sunjata down in the process.

Fangorn grumbled in response, showing a wide, fanged, toothy grin that could’ve been menacing, malicious, or merely sadistic. It was difficult to tell – but he hadn’t forgotten the way Oliver had once shirked his presence, bounding a little closer to see if he could up the ante on intimidation. Melita snorted.

His considerations towards the heralds hadn’t happened either, and so they were left with more of the murky, eldritch unknown. Her walk persisted, the lantern light flickering over ramparts and beaches, over docks and ancient wood, over nothing Nate-shaped. The end results of the Grounds holding no one healthy was striking and terrifying too – as if it was an epidemic, incapable of being contained. “There’s a lot sick here too. No one seems to know what they’re doing. It’s like their minds are gone.” Houses burned down, disappearing off into the distance, rambling towards flames – everything and not, shorn down to bits and pieces. “Is there anything you guys need there?” Perhaps she could pick something up while she wandered into the Climb.
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
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Blacksmith

Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 20
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#12
You make my heart shake bend and break
Ronin took care of it? Well... shit. That was hopelessly vague and Oliver shuddered at some of the thoughts in his head. "Damn am I glad our meeting didn't go that bad... I sure hope Bastien is okay with the hair... you know of any hat shops in Torchline?" There was a failed attempt at a joke, but really, he just wanted the man to be okay.

It's nice to speak with Melita, honestly... she clearly cares about the people around her and already, Oliver can feel himself calming down. It's... nice. The sand beneath their feet as they make their way down the beach is calming and brings another sense of peace to the blonde.

The statement is accurate and Oliver offers her a nod. "Yeah... it feels like... there's a really intense fog in my mind... I cant remember much and... I just hope that I can get some more water soon, since I'd rather stay like this for as long as possible." There's another small, forced smile. He has to stay positive, right?

A soft hum and Oliver glances down. "I guess just... make sure the other sick people are okay? I think... they're all Ascended, so they shouldn't need to eat... but fuck do we all need baths... maybe see if people would be willing to come over and make sure none of us have gotten into any fights?" Oliver desperately wanted to ask her for something in particular, but it was far too forward for someone he was hardly close to.
OLIVER
Speaks with an Irish accent, however, some words come out with more of an 'American' accent
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Melita Najya


Age: 20 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 7 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 28
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd
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#13
to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
Bastien and his hair wasn’t quite the explanation, nor the tale she expected – her eyes widening a bit, before realizing there’d been a joke embedded in there, to break up the monotony of despair. “Oh, there might be some in the market.” A small grin, to take shape away from the faultiness, the furrowed brows, and the exhaustion. “I think you will. Once we figure things out, I have no doubts that people will go back and forth to help everyone.” Water, flowers, other multitudes and things she’d yet to fully grasp or understand – but they were all pieces of the puzzle, a bunch of minds working together, striving to collaborate through the haze, through the fog, through the doom and gloom.

The Grounds sounded as though they were inundated in the epidemic, Ascended with their needs (and a chill ran down her spine for a moment, at the way Amun had kept asking for a bite, at the way Samuel had snagged and tore at Remi, at the way needs, necessities, and wants seemed to blur together in hazardous proportions), and anyone else who managed to wander into the dirge. Melita didn’t know if she had the ability, the wherewithal, or the time to segment into that world too, while attempting to take care of the ones here. She couldn’t even find Nate, let alone break up fights (much less bathe someone).

Maybe she was just afraid. Maybe she was tired. Maybe she was concerned nothing would change, and the grit in her bones would merely be extinguished, eventually gone and riddled and scorched away by everything else. “We can try,” was all she could muster; apprehensive of making another promise she wouldn’t be able to keep.
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
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