(SE) let's bury all these fears
Aurelia Murlow
the Fireheart


Age: 29 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#15
AURELIA
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
"Yeah, yeah," an unimpressed expression plants itself on her face, though of course it's not genuine, "stop being so smart," she cracks and grins over at Melita with a teasing glint in her eye, "Don't they say that ignorance is bliss?"

She keeps this grin as Melita laughs, chuckling softly in response, "See? That's the spirit!" To Aurelia, she sees the other girl laugh quite a bit, or light up training grounds with cheshire grins and excited determination. She's unaware of the stresses and turbulence Melita feels so much more often. If she knew, she might be sorry for that. Of course, she does know they've both seen a lot of darkness in their lives. That's what makes moments like these so much better.

"As you shouldn't," Aurelia agrees more seriously, nodding, but she's still smiling and laughing at the jokes over Milo. She's still shocked that he's come with them on the voyage, having expected him to stay. But he hadn't, and now that they've arrived with few complications (sorry empanadas), "I'm glad he came with us here. Not all adventures are fiery pits of doom, after all, and we could... all.. use the escape." Her expression softens as she glances down towards a stray flower bud, lost in Melita's picking. She picks it up gently, fondling the soft petals.

Aurelia's brows furrow too, in reaction to watching Melita curl her legs up against her chest, remembering that she doesn't like the Voice. She leans forward, placing her elbows on her lap as her legs criss-cross. But Melita's expression quickly brightens at the announcement of a poisonous bird. She doesn't know Locke well enough to comment on him, but recognition flashes across her gaze at the mention of him.

She smirks at a sudden memory, though. "We had those in my home," her old home, that is, "what did it look like? Did it kill Locke? Is that why I haven't seen much of him?" She scoffs at her own joke.
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
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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#16
you must burn brighter than ever
There was half a moment where she was going to reel into self-deprecating humor, but instead quieted herself into a curling smile, head tilted, petals surrounding crimson locks and wildfire abyss. “Sure. But you can’t stay ignorant for long here.” Too many things, too many people, too many moving, marauding parts. She’d been young when she’d arrived to Caido, and young still, but there’d been hardships contorted throughout, politics on display, and nuance after nuance of strife that didn’t ever quite find an ending.

A hum, a note, of agreement stirred at the insinuation that they all needed an escape. Melita had been immersed in her fair share of dramatics, courtesy of her uncles, but she wasn’t entirely aware of Aurelia’s comings and goings. It likely wasn’t her place to ask. The inquiries stuck to the roof of her mouth and billowed away on a breath, eyes tracing over the wind-borne grass, the sway of the world around them. “I agree,” came instead, fingers grabbing hold of the greenery, twisting a particular blade in between her fingers.

But there were more thoughts, more things to prevail upon, and she twisted her head towards her fellow smuggler, at the notation of poisonous birds back in homelands, far, far away. “Fangorn!” She hollered over the press of small hills and knolls, to where the gourd was clearly resting on his stone bench. “Bring my bag!” The companion grumbled but still seemed to adhere, eventually bounding down between them, the satchel’s handle embedded in his mouth. Melita grabbed hold of both, settling the pumpkin along her lap while she rummaged through her bounty, carefully producing some emerald feathers. “Locke was fine,” and she held them out for Aurelia to inspect. “I thought about using them on my arrows.” As for the location of the other individual, she hadn’t a clue. “I didn’t know he’d disappeared.”
Melita
Aurelia Murlow
the Fireheart


Age: 29 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 21 - Int:
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#17
AURELIA
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
Aurelia quiets with Melita and offers her a more serious, smaller smile. She understands, she knows. They've both been through so much, there's no doubt in her mind that there will always be something else to stack against her or the people she cares about. But they'll be strong enough to get through it all. Especially if they stick together. You have to hold fast to those that matter. "All the more reason to enjoy it while it lasts," she replies wistfully.

She straightens up a little when Melita calls to Fangorn, for her bag, and her brows lift with expectant interest. It would appear that her fellow smuggler had smuggled a few of the bird's feathers for herself. With curious care, Aurelia selects one of the featheres presented and looks it over, nodding absently at the clarification of Locke being fine. "I suppose the poison comes from the quills?" She asks, and then returns the feather with a decided, "You should put them on your arrows. It would look... cool," she smirks at Melita.

"Oh, I don't really know either," she remarks, "I hadn't seen him around Haulani but then again, I didn't really go out of my way to try and find him. He owes me a spar, at least," she explains with a mischievous look. "I hope he doesn't have one of those weird staffs," she adds on pointedly, peering at Melita, "where did you get something like that anyway?"
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
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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#18
you must burn brighter than ever
She tilted her head at the wistful notion – because those days were long since gone, and Melita could only remember bits and pieces of notions, of moments, where she hadn’t felt the grip of fear, torment, or anguish. Moments with toes spread in the sand, of splashing around in the oasis, of a world surrounded by crimson mountains and draconic calls, leathery wings scaling the vibrantly red heights. Or flowers, pressed against her nose, chasing down bumblebees and pretending she could hum their song. Her head bowed for a second, pondering whether or not to acknowledge the sentiments gathering behind her teeth, but then they slipped out anyway, meant to be whimsical, and not angst-riddled, melancholic. “What was your favorite thing before you came here?” Outlanders – prone to their memories, their whims, their mercies before being pulled away.

Then she waited quietly, hands neatly folded in her lap, or a finger tracing over a stray petal, while Aurelia inspected her wares. The crown atop her head didn’t falter when she nodded. “Maybe?” She shrugged; perhaps when they returned, she’d take them to Nate or some other local apothecary, see what they were worth. Cool,” the smuggler echoed, then laughed, shaking her cranium, with the wild locks and diadems circling over the venture.

Locke’s comings and goings didn’t necessarily bother Melita – not like they would with those she was close to. Some wandered. Some meandered. Some traversed and traveled far and wide to find what they wanted, to settle on what they’d become. It was only the inquiry thereafter, and the insinuation thereafter, that had her giggling again. “From Ludo. The staff was always one of my favorite weapons,” used to defend herself multiple times within the Rift, to fend off monsters, to protect family.
Melita
Aurelia Murlow
the Fireheart


Age: 29 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 21 - Int:
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#19
AURELIA
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
Aurelia's taken aback by the sudden inquiry, tilting her head up, staring at Melita for a few moments before her gaze drifts, and so does her mind. "My world wasn't... there wasn't a lot to like. Always too much going on to really... think about what I wanted," she sighs. The weight's lifted, though, as she adds more cheerfully, "but I liked cooking dinners with my family. It was.. nice, especially when we made pies," She grins then, letting the woes of her former world roll off her back.

There's still a sliver of hope that one day she might reunite with her sisters but, as it stands now, there's nothing she can do. No point in souring the moment. She brings her stare back, brightened once more, "What about you?"

She can't help but to laugh alongside Melita, "Yes, don't you want to be cool?" She asks rhetorically, but of course she's only teasing.

Melita clarifies what Aurelia already suspects; it was a gift from the heralds. "Ah, you and your many gifts!" She rolls her eyes in feigned annoyance, but then amusement bubbles back up and she smiles ambitiously, "Maybe one day I'll catch up to you." She leans back on one hand, settling into the cool breeze as bees circle lazily around her flowery crown.
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
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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#20
you must burn brighter than ever
Togetherness; wholesome and bright, pockets of moments like the sprigs before them, not so entirely lost in the dramatics, in the theatrics, in the madness of the world. Even if there wasn’t much to salvage from Aurelia’s world, she still had something, precious and collected, remembered for its granted grins. The girl’s hands went around her knees again, spiraling along the thickets of clover and patchworks of petals, as she thought, as she poised, softer now, in days not taken apart by shadow and sacrifices. “What kind of pies?” Warm laughter followed, as if they could re-imagine them by sense alone – knowing it was silly, and still wishing, wanting, to indulge in semblances of things that once brought them tranquility.

“I have quite a few,” she murmured; grateful for those juvenile tendencies to roam and roam and roam and not have a care – the wind in their hair, the songs in their hearts, the illustrious wake of things long since undone. An age of innocence, before they even knew what that was. “My sister, Clementine, my best friend Iskra, and I used to run down to the ocean. In the sea, the Moon Goddess had constructed a glass chamber, and you could ramble through as it went into the waves, and see all of the animals inside.” The smile remained, chiseled there along her mouth and cheeks, a sigh filtering through, placing her chin on the top of her knees. “We would press our faces against the glass and Iskra would tell us the names of all of them, one by one.”

And then the memories faded in light of other nuances, and she snorted, handwaving away Aurelia’s statement. “I’m already cool.” A bit brazen, a bit haughty, shaking her head as if to make it a personal point, listening to the crown shake. But there was the herald of giggles summoned once more as the other smuggler proclaimed some sentiment of a challenge; and the youth said nothing; the grin simply becoming far more Cheshire.
Melita
Aurelia Murlow
the Fireheart


Age: 29 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 21 - Int:
Played by: Catalysta Away
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Posts: 1,182 | Total: 1,724
MP: 630
#21
AURELIA
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
Aurelia remembers those small moments fondly now, and it brings her a certain kind of inner peace. At least she has these memories, at least they were able to be made amongst all the darkness. "Oh, all kinds! My favorite is pumpkin, though," she smiles, "or berry. Berry pie is good, too.. I'm not especially talented at baking but I always liked it. It's fun."

She listens keenly to the retelling of an ocean cathedral, eyes widening with wonder at the mere thought of something so amazing. "That sounds beautiful," she comments softly, gazing at Melita's face as she rests it on her knees. "Which animal was your favorite? I didn't know much about the sea before coming here but I think it's safe to say I hate whales," and she laughs a little at this.

Melita claims that she's already cool and Aurelia doesn't have a counter for it, finding that she agrees. She quiets for a bit, letting the conversation find a lull, letting her gaze and mind wander. Then, she perks up a little and glances back up, "You know, I'm glad we're friends. I didn't think you liked me very much at first, but... looks like I've grown on you now," and she grins playfully at that.
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
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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#22
you must burn brighter than ever
At the mention of pumpkin pie, she darted a glance at Fangorn – who either didn’t recognize a potential threat or simply found himself contorted in protection. Indifferent, the gourd maintained his proud position, vines sweeping along the tall grass.

Truth be told, Melita had only rarely tried to bake anything. More often than not she ended up gaining her supply of wondrous goods throughout the market. “We should try some time,” she hummed, tilting her head at the potential disaster. Maybe not at her uncles’ house though. It’d already seen its fair share of fires.

Favored sea animals gave the honeybee pause, and her eyes went up towards the sky as she reflected once more – pondering over the lengths she’d seen. “Probably the dolphins. They’re really similar to the empanadas.” A nod, certain and true, followed and flickered along like an ember. “Though these couldn’t summon storms.” Just the regular, grayish kind, streaking through the water with their range of potency. “I don’t really hate whales,” she added, wrinkling her nose in distinction of the only kind she could detest. “Just the ghost ones.” Assholes that they were.

They were quiet for a moment, and Melita took that opportunity to straighten out her crown and pick at more petals that had been scattered in her wayward diadem making, providing some beautiful pinkish blooms to settle on top of Fangorn as her bonded seemed to settle into a nap. She didn’t expect the next statement, and as it varnished over her, the girl snorted, laughing again. “I didn’t like you much – you threatened my companion.” Another cheeky grin entangled itself on her lips, and she didn’t shy away from the honesty. “I’ll always protect what’s mine.” Which she figured would echo and reflect on Aurelia in the same stead. “But I suppose you have.”
Melita
Aurelia Murlow
the Fireheart


Age: 29 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 21 - Int:
Played by: Catalysta Away
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#23
AURELIA
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
Aurelia laughs at Melita's sideways glance toward Fangorn, not having realized the insinuation she just made. "Waiit- that's not what I meant!" She pipes up, shaking her head with a grin. Petals drift to and fro from her crown with the movement, falling into the locks of her hair and over her shoulders. "Yes, we should, it'll be a great, disasterous experiment," she agrees decisively on attempts of baking, snickering, "Fangorn can be the taste tester. Or does he only eat the blood of your enemies?"

At the mention of empanadas, Aurelia furrows her brows. "Empanadas?" She tilts her head to one side quizzically, "Isn't that a food? Do you mean to tell me you had swimming pastries where you're from?" She tries to hold back a laugh, hoping that she's just confused or something. "No, that might be my new favorite sea animal, too."

Aurelia's mouth opens in feigned, shocked offense. She clamps it shut quickly, a smirk spreading across her features, and she suddenly tosses a handful of loose petals at Melita. "It was a joke! Sort of- I can't believe you still remember that," she chuckles for a moment before settling down and adding earnestly, "it was a big adjustment for me."

"But I'm glad you've forgiven me so graciously," and she sticks out her tongue.
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
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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#24
you must burn brighter than ever
“Suuuure,” Melita drawled, but permitted the comment to return back into the ethers, making sure to mockingly cover where Fangorn’s ears might’ve been – hands clasping over his sides as he continued to doze in the sun, none the wiser. But at disastrous wakes and experiments, the youth pulsed with bemusements, contorting the notions, fruitions, plans, and plots in her mind. Lofty and overconfident, a haughty little turn of her chin became sprigged and whittled with amusements, a light laugh as petals cascaded. “We should use my uncle’s house.” It’d already been set on fire once. What was one more at this point? And as for the vampire gourd, the sneer grew even more Cheshire, proud of his demonic entity. “He eats both. And bugs.”

But the smuggler didn’t know what to make of the semblance of the empanadas being a food (of course, one could eat and hunt them – but she’d never ascertained them into any form of pastry). “No, I don’t think so.” She shrugged her shoulders, nose wrinkling and scrunching. “That’s what Nate called them.” But maybe bakery items out at sea had a certain ring to it. “Wouldn’t they be salty though?”

The loosened fronds and respectable amount of florets found her hair, tangling back into the locks with little care as she laughed once more. “I remember threats,” she giggled again – except it was the heart and truth of the matter. “You’re welcome. I’m not known for my forgiveness. Consider yourself very lucky.”
Melita
Aurelia Murlow
the Fireheart


Age: 29 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 21 - Int:
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#25
AURELIA
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
"A gourd of culture, I see," Aurelia jokes in return of his eating habits.

Melita says she doesn't think it's a food and Aurelia's head tilts skeptically to one side, unconvinced. At the mention of Nate calling them empanadas too, she can't help but to laugh suddenly and loudly and without cease. "I- I think you mean-" she snorts, unable to help that her laughter is muffling her words, "encantados!"

"I'm very lucky, it's true," Aurelia agrees and eases back, though her smile is still broad, filled with joyful humor. She considers Melita's words. That she remembers threats. It seems like such a dark sentiment. Obviously she must counter it with something light! And so she says something that turns out, too, to be genuine without truly thinking about it, "Well, I always remember my friends. So now you know someone out there will remember you, huh? Consider that a threat."
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
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: 10,647
MP: 9824
#26
you must burn brighter than ever
Unaware of just why Aurelia was laughing, howling, at the rearranged names and titles, the girl tilted her head again, as if perceiving some alternate angle. “Hm. Are you sure? Encantados?” Had she heard that name before? Uncertain, and not remotely bothered by it at all, the youth tucked the nuances away in the back of her mind – for a later time, date, opportunity to tease Nate.

If she ever went back home.

And while the honeybee remembered threats, she hadn’t meant for it to be dark or looming, ominous or shackling. Just a statement of fact; how she’d lived and survived for so long. But Aurelia had managed to twist it back around so the lightness remained, so she cast another multitude of wayward smiles and ringing giggles. “Okay, okay, if you put it that way.” She mockingly shuddered, like the semblances of Aurelia hovering over her with friendship was something to be feared. “Terrifying.” Then there was another wicked howl of laughter – covering over the sentiments of being remembered, of other beings that hadn’t been, only collected and collided in the soul of her memories. “I’ll remember you too,” and then she threw a few more petals and stems for good measure in the smuggler’s direction. Thereafter; after the calm, it'd be forging back into the calamity, and heading home.

{FIN}
Melita


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