[SE] I do not exist to silently agree
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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#15
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Oh – there it was. The finality and weight in the statement – leaving, departing, heeding in space and time. “Good,” she uttered, features still piercing and narrowed, as if yearning and itching for a fight where there wasn’t one to have any longer. Her teeth clicked together as her mouth shut, and she was left to simply accept it for what it was. Would Nate go back? Would he bother? Would anything change or alter?

Suddenly all she wanted to do was launch out into the sea, and let the breeze, the wind, take shape over the sails. Take them elsewhere, far, far beyond all these dramatic trials and tribulations, all these options and choices that could have gone so much better –

She kicked at the water and let it take hold of her in waves and ripples. “Weapons and memories,” she presided thereafter, a little mulishly, a little seditiously, a pout beginning to streamline across her mouth. Fangorn angled in after her, vines dragging or lifting, striving for an interim of peace that wasn’t going to last.

The notions of the Voice curled back over; semblances owed, fixing what Safrin had coiled over him – and maybe he could hold things together, but that depended on the rest of the people around him too. Is that working for you? she wanted to say., but held back. Knew better now.

The gods and their heralds could only heal or break so many things.

“Do you ever regret your choice?” Anymore? Like he used to – when Samuel had somehow persuaded and inveigled? Or was it a foregone conclusion?
Melita
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
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#16
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us
"Ah." A grin slants in his fiery niece's direction, Nate's one eye sparkling with mischief instead of worry. "Sounds like it must know you well." Was this another bond he had to watch carefully, another avenue for pain, for betrayal? He picks a rock to step on carefully, making sure his footing was steady, and looked down along the stream, searching for a distraction, or something else so superficial and shiny.

Instead what comes is a question.

It's a question Nate has not been asked in some time, so it's a question he hasn't had to answer in a long time. One that he hasn't had to think about in even longer. What had once been a constant background simmering had faded to an ember that only sparked and sputtered in bits and bursts, only when something that he missed specifically came up. And even that was growing weaker and weaker, as reality began to replace nostalgia.

A hand lifts to brush his hair back, the moment of distraction used to compose his features into something pensive and serious. "Every day." The words drop like a personal admission of guilt, like his emotions are what he has to be ashamed of here. "There's nothing I can do to change it now though." He was in too deep, had no choice but to adapt, but to grow familiar, comfortable with what had once been a curse.
these, our bodies, possessed by light
Tell me we'll never get used to it
NATE
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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MP: 9824
#17
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
“Maybe,” she offered with a shrug of her shoulders, with the quiet that came with her unease. Her feet drifted in and out of the shoreline, toes dipping into the cool water, springing forth, crouching only now and then when she spotted something shiny and dignified. Once, she would’ve brought these towards Sunjata, or both uncles, proclaimed them wondrous, delicate, or beautiful things, inlaid them within weapons like they were stars and emblems of the divine. She knew better now – that they didn’t last, that the spectrums and hues altered, changed, and that she couldn’t hold onto such figments for much longer.

It made her want to cry; yearning for things she couldn’t have.

Melita hadn’t meant for her question to dovetail; but then again, it hadn’t been very though through or processed well. The honeybee regretted it instantly, the way it slipped past her tongue like a noose, and she hung her head, tired of being a thorn and nettle for now. “I know,” she whispered back, fingers gliding over an ivory rock, something that could’ve fallen from the moon. After all the fire, all the brimstone, she felt exhausted – as if with the fuel, the fire, and the kindling diminished, she was only ash and bone. “Will you become someone like Wessex?” Perhaps that was a fear too, and she could only look him straight in the eye then – afraid of the answer – of how the Wraith had twisted and turned herself within too.
Melita
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
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#18
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us
Maybe, she says, as if It doesn't. As if it's some mere passing fancy, a boy who might hold her hand for a week before his interest falls onto someone new. And that alone tells Nate that whatever connection she has to the herald is deep. Considering Ludo is the herald who holds the most contempt for the ascended, his own personal drama with Safrin notwithstanding, it doesn't put a good taste in Nate's mouth. In less than a day, his life has become so complex, grown into some tangled web of panic and paranoia.

Except thats not really true, is it? These roots are older than that. They've been allowed to grow deep and thick, ignored in the hopes that they would never see the light of day.

Nate wonders privately what exactly Melita means when she says someone like Wessex. Which parts exactly it is she's afraid of seeing in him. Wonders if maybe those pieces have already taken root, out of necessity, out of anger, and finds he'd much rather not give too much energy to those thoughts. "No." He answers solemnly, stopping on the shore and looking at his niece until she notices, until she meets his gaze. Only then does his stony face break into a grin, his head cocking. "I've got people like you to keep me in line still, don't I?" He can't grow twisted with watchful eyes lingering over him, at least not easily. He doesn't think about how often he's done things the hard way, and widens his smile just a touch, before glancing down into the water as something catches his eye.
these, our bodies, possessed by light
Tell me we'll never get used to it
NATE
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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MP: 9824
#19
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Her fingers ghosted over a pale blue stone in her palm, before releasing it back into the water, crouching and ambling, listening to the heaviness of the moments, interspersed between babbling rivulets. Twisting and turning, sometimes she wished she could be like the little creek bed, continuously moving, divine in its speculation, maneuvering on its course with no hesitation, no hurting heart.

He didn’t ask what she meant, and perhaps that was for the best. Melita had once enjoyed the Wraith’s presence, thought of her like a mentor, someone strong, inspiring, tough, but obliging. And then so many other things came whittling down, down, down, between the Mathair, the blight (which had stuck to her feral edges; made her exactly what she feared she’d always become), and rendered circumstances she probably wasn’t even aware of. But the promise was there, the no, and some semblance of relief, maybe one of the few she’d had recently, coursed through her shoulders. “Of course.”

The smile dimmed thereafter – as if recalling, remembering, nothing she had to say really mattered, in the end. “I tried to talk to him. But I got so mad, and he’s so stupid.” She kicked a rock, absentmindedly, and then stopped as he seemed to find something else.
Melita
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
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#20
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us
Reaching out ahead of him, Nate let’s a hand settle on his nieces shoulder and squeezes, a more careful connection than the hug he wants to extend to her. Honestly, he’s not sure he’d be able to find enough reason to let go if he did that.

”He is stupid.” Nate agrees with a heavy sigh, a hand coming up to rub at his face. It falls away after a breath though, the ascended instead offering a smile up to Melita, as warm as he can manage. ”I’m proud of you for trying though. I know it’s not easy.” Nor did Sunjata make it easy. But that’s neither here nor there, irrelevant compared to the glint in the water.

Kneeling quickly, Nate reaches into the creek, a cloud of silt immediately rising where his fingers touch the bed, not that it stops him from grabbing. Shaking the treasure he’s managed to grab out in the water quickly, he withdraws it, holding it out between them so his niece can look at it as well. It looks to Nate like a dagger, a small one, or perhaps a large needle. The tip of it is dull, the body engraved with delicate swirls and marred with stubborn river muck. Sparkling beads tangled from the blunt side, which curls into the delicate shape of an encatado, complete with a pinkish mother of pearl inlay.
these, our bodies, possessed by light
Tell me we'll never get used to it
NATE
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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Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,646
MP: 9824
#21
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
She smiled, a little simpler, a little sadder, at the squeeze on her shoulder. A sigh flickered through thereafter, and all the vivid, vivacious spirit seemed to leave her body. She almost felt tired - tired of Sunjata and all his shit, tired of the tirades that went nowhere, tired of trying to make him see reason, and to watch as none of it mattered. “It just feels like…nothing changes.” Her hands went upward in a shaking motion, and then receded back down to her sides. Fangorn uttered a grumble, and she reached down, taking the companion into the crook of her elbow, where vines interlaced and intertwined.

But then there were more distractions, and as they had absolutely naught to do with the Governor of Torchline and his myriad of mishaps, the youth was far more inclined to the bright, shiny aspects of whatever Nate had found. Her gaze instantly went to the metal, tracing over the foundations of someone’s once-possession, a dagger, a knife, a coating and lacquer of empanadas and beads, swirls and mire. “Oh, how cool!” Melita didn’t touch it, but reached forward, eyes rounding into widened, intrigued aspects. “Too bad someone lost it.” It looked like it used to be a well-adorned weapon, before the rivulet got ahold of it.
Melita
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
Played by: Johnnie Offline
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#22
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us
Nate echoes the sigh, only longer, deeper, some exhaustion that has not left him since he'd come back from the Grounds squirming uncomfortably in his chest, trying to get out through this one futile path. It's not that he disagrees, exactly, but the sentiment isn't exactly right either. Things most certainly change. It's just the choices that are made that are always the same, always destructive, always crumbling things apart. And yet he's always there, reliable as the ebbs and flows of the tides.

But not this time. It's why he has to step away, isn't it? Why he's taking a break, so to speak? So each of them can get their shit together, and if they decide to come back at the end of it, then they can.

"It's real pretty, isn't it?" Nate holds the little slip of metal up to the sky, the beads sparkling in the weak sunlight that manages to pierce the canopy of leaves and clouds both. Without looking away from the trinket, he reaches out to grab Melita's hand and pull it close. "Their loss is our gain, eh Mel?" With a grin, the doctor presses the little slip of metal into his niece's hand, closing her fingers around it. "It suits you a little bit better than me." He offers by way of explanation.
these, our bodies, possessed by light
Tell me we'll never get used to it
NATE
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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Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,646
MP: 9824
#23
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Maybe, maybe not. For Melita, all she ever got to see were the remnants, the shapes of destruction, the way her uncle burned himself from the inside out, and seemingly no matter how hard he insisted on trying, managed to catch everyone else aflame around him. She can’t abide it – the way he didn’t seem to care, the way he drifted in and out of the same routinely stupid things, incapable of sparing a god damned thought consequences. Not until they struck him down, spit him back out into waves and sand, and then he started all over again. Would this one stick? Or would the Flood simply remain a fool, cast aloft by his own stupidity again and again and again –

She shook her head, and the thoughts drifted away. Back to the item in Nate’s clutches. Back to the way things used to be, could’ve been, couldn’t stayed and remained if time and events weren’t so cruel, harsh, and demanding. Her eyes wandered to the placement of gold, to where the sun hit and caught portions of untarnished filaments, to the love and care that must’ve gone into crafting the artifact.

But she didn’t expect it to be suddenly in her hand, fingers closed around the object; wielding it like a weapon. “Oh, I don’t –“ deserve it, she nearly said. “Thank you,” she extended instead, staring down at it. “I don’t have anything to give you.”
Melita
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
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#24
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us
For a moment, the doctor half expects the words that leave his niece to be oh I don’t want this, so he’s happy to be surprised. A single blue eye focuses on Melita for entirely too long, surprise blooming across Nate’s scarred face like some slow cactus flower. ”Mel, hon,” His voice is so terribly gentle it very nearly doesn’t sound like the ascended, probably wouldn’t, if not for the sharpness of his accent. ”You just saw me pull it out of a creek.” A soft huff of laughter shakes him, the smile on his face bright and more alive than any that has graced it in the last few days.

”Not everything needs to be made up. I can just give you things. And I want to.” It’s what family does, isn’t it? Little things, stupid things, just to be together. And whatever the thing was, dagger or something else, it really did suit the girl.”Its what I’m here for, isn’t it? Bad presents and worse advice?” Another chuckle bubbles out from his lips, Nate trying to brighten the mood between them, trying to leave something other than a melancholic note on this farewell.{/i}
these, our bodies, possessed by light
Tell me we'll never get used to it
NATE
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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#25
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Then he was laughing at her, and some clarity, some of the old ways curled back into her. Maybe it’d been foolish of her, to believe everything in accord with transactions, especially with family, but it’d been a diehard method in the ways she’d always lived. “Well, even so,” and here she lifted her defiant little jaw, an ember, a coal, of sedition. “Whatever I find in the creek you can have then.” Which made her eyes drop habitually towards the water’s edge, bare feet already maneuvering over pebbles, searching for something distinct and glimmering.

The honeybee began to move along, laughing again at his insinuations, at the semblances of bad advice. “I already do enough of that on my own,” with an ample shrug and a wry grin, considering the other ways she’d meandered through this world – fully aware, and sometimes giving into consideration. While she maneuvered, toes still rustling through the clear water buoying over ankles, she twirled the gilded sanction in her fingers, giving it another careful study and perusal. “What do you think it was used for?” It wasn’t much of a dagger piece – very ornamental, and lacking in a proper hilt. She pulled it within her palm, making a fist over the surface, and then a stabbing motion to follow through, humming as she went along.
Melita
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
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#26
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us
Even so, she says, and Nate laughs again, expecting the hardheaded capriciousness, the stuck up nose and set jaw. ”Sounds like a deal darling.” Nate manages between chuckles, following her further along the creek, his own gaze roaming around the jungle, enjoying the dappled green light streaming around them.

Where Melita dances along the water, feet light and carried along by currents and breezes, Nate’s steps are heavy, encased in thick boots, sinking into the mud at the fringes of the creek and stirring up eddies of cloudy water. He gets distracted by some brightly coloured bird, it’s raucous cry almost cutting off the beginning of his nieces question. ”I dunno.” He offers after a distracted pause, leaning in to look at the bejewelled trinket. ”Maybe... a brooch. My nonna had all kinds of fancy things like that for church.”
these, our bodies, possessed by light
Tell me we'll never get used to it
NATE
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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Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,646
MP: 9824
#27
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
A stubborn wake of a nod followed through on the deal, and her eyes settled back into the water, the riverbed, the cluster of movement and ripples cascading through. For once, she wanted to find more than just shining rocks and cascading formations – something amplified, something useful, something not entirely made of whimsy or caprice. Ethereal and enigmatic for a twist and turn of moments, dipping carefully, tactfully, as if she were a part of the fathoms and depths herself, before lifting her head and breaking the picture, the portrait, the distortion – wild again.

“What’s a brooch?” Melita hadn’t come from fancy. Melita had come from deserts contorted in crimson sand, from dragons screeching overhead, from an oasis dipped and lined in greenery, from a world already buried and covered in ruin. But her curiosity eternally prevailed, no matter the circumstances, and she lifted her brow at the indication of his words, not understanding the meaning.

But then her eyes caught glittering motions, and her attention dissipated. Crouching low, dress dampening at the fringes and ends again, her hand darted in after a patchwork of beautiful scales.
Melita
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
Played by: Johnnie Offline
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#28
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us
”Its uh... it’s just a pin, I think. But it’s fuck off big, and so help you god if you touch it.” Nate rolls his eyes, voice taking on a very specific tone. Had he been yelled at for this before? Had he internalized it in some never before noticed way?

Maybe.

”I think I might be wrong though, cause it doesn’t have the uh, the pin part at the back.” Really, Nate’s just thinking out loud now, trying to puzzle out the mystery of this little item and keep an eye on Mel all at the same time. ”Maybe if you just stab it through your shirt?” He mutters, lips pursing as he very nearly crashed into his niece, managing to step around her at the last second. And play it off as intentional, when he news beside her, looking at what she’s found.
these, our bodies, possessed by light
Tell me we'll never get used to it
NATE


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