{se} accordion string heart

Hotaru

Even as the seasons pass, Apopo’s eruption is still evident. It likely will be for many, many years more. Still, there are places touched less heavily by the ash and lava, where foliage persists and adventurers can explore even without the benefit of Attuned forms. That is where Hotaru is found today. Contemplating the last few days of changes, of which there have been so very many.

The heat in Torchline is far more oppressive than the other lands. At least the hospitable ones. The only benefit is being able to wear the gauzy dresses and skirts that she has been slowly replacing after her flight from Halo. With little else to do but raise her children and try to train in preparation for the war, gown-making has filled the empty hours.

Aside from wandering, the Valkyrie is truly doing little else. Enjoying the weather and the quiet of the abandoned ridge of the once lush volcano.

from the base of her neck to the arch of her eyelids
her beauty made a slave of me

MELITA

The honeybee could be found skipping, strolling, and leaping, every inch the energetic, effervescent beacon of fire and flames. This excitement could be drawn to her latest quest – or any other reason really, because she was an indulgent ember, wandering the world with enough zest, vivacity, and hunger for life and all its determination, tenacious, and obstinate factors.

Fangorn followed in hot pursuit as they journeyed along the ridges of Apopo, unbothered by its violent past and the upheavals that came alongside. Given the nature of its existence, perhaps she felt drawn to it anyway – sometimes violent, sometimes quiet, but never forgotten. With her bag on her shoulder, and a few jumps from boulder to boulder, she hummed under her breath, a distant tune her sister probably would’ve enjoyed, picked up from smugglers and the like.

Spotting a decent amount of ash nearby, she beelined for the pile without a second thought – save for attention dissipating slightly when she realized another was there. Shielding her eyes against the sun, she recognized the outline, figure, and silhouette almost immediately, and gave a hearty wave, before bending down to start collecting. “Hi Ru!” Sifting some in her hand, she began to push it into a smaller threshold, pondering how much she needed. Well, enough to line a nest anyway. “What brings you out here?” Her voice carried over – wondering just where they stood nowadays, mind untangling the eaves and actions.

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

Hotaru

The glare of the sun is both a help and a hindrance when it comes to noticing and identifying any others in the area. Luckily they seem to spot one another at the same time, and Melita’s vivacious vocals are familiar long before her squinted gaze can discern the girl’s figure. Dropping the hand previously shading her eyes, Ru smiles and gathers her dress to more speedily arrive at the honeybee’s side.

If the girl questions where they stand, she need not. Ru squats down beside her, wrapping an arm around freckled shoulders in a brief, firm squeeze, dropping a chaste kiss into fiery tresses. “Hello my girl. I’m just taking a stroll - but what in the world are you doing with that ash?” The haphazard, careless collection is indicative of Melita’s personality, yes, but it also brings a bubbling undertone of laughter to the Valkyrie’s words.

from the base of her neck to the arch of her eyelids
her beauty made a slave of me

MELITA

Suddenly encompassed and snagged, the youth laughed, and all the fibers of whatever had been mustered in months gone by seemed to unravel and unfurl. If her hands hadn’t been full, she would’ve pulled Ru in return, but even Melita knew better than to get precious garments tainted by the ash. Luckily, for her, none of her clothes were nice enough to warrant the notions. “A stroll, out here?” The honeybee liked it enough, but hadn’t Hotaru been in the Greatwood? “What have you been up to?” Released from the hug thereafter, she stuffed a small pile into her bag, hands already coated and stained in the grayish hues.

As for her reasons, her mouth curled into an easygoing, excited, ebullient grin. “I’m on a quest from Ludo!” Fangorn, not wanting to be forgotten, fumbled his way along brush and ash too, vines intermingling and waving at Hotaru.

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

Hotaru

The girl’s laughter is warmer than even the sun that beats down on her shoulders, and it is sure to linger longer. No matter what has occurred between herself and Sunjata, Melita is untouched by those nooses and wires, and she will always have the Valkyrie’s unconditional love.

Melita’s curiosity is not unlike that of her children, which is all the more amusing because of their difference in years. It’s equally as endearing. “Fewer people,” she notes, winking conspiratorially. “I travel a lot between here and the Greatwood. Maeve suggested living here again, but I’m not entirely sold on the idea. Call it a trial run.” Part of her is greatly enticed by the idea. Taking the twins and settling somewhere, just the three of them. Would it be that great of a change from their current daily lives? It wasn’t as if Remi couldn’t dream walk to them if he desired. How close does he desire to keep them, when they already do not live with him? It’s her own possessiveness, one to rival the Lullaby’s own. Still, she’d never take Vai from them, and that is the crux of the issue.

Melita’s words twist the knife in her gut, though the girl has no way of knowing. Hotaru is used to smiling past that however, especially for the young ones in her life. “Oh? What did you ask it for?” No mention of her own visit or quest. This isn’t a day for sadness - as if she’d ever burden Melita with such things. For all her maturing age, Ru still sees her as a young girl, deserving protection from the horrors of the world. Fangorn’s approach is awarded a grin, and she reaches to tickle at the closest vine in parody of a handshake. Or perhaps she’s just teasing the little gourd. Who’s to know?

from the base of her neck to the arch of her eyelids
her beauty made a slave of me

MELITA

“Hm. What’s holding you back?” She’d lived here before, after all, though Melita considered the possibility of Remi, and the whole business between children going back and forth. Not wanting to immerse herself too far into the complexities either, and figuring the Valkyrie wouldn’t want her embedded in the rush of dramatics, the youth simply continued sifting through the ash. She made another neat pile, collecting the bits and pieces of what was once timber and vegetation, placing it within her bag again, accumulating and cycling through the process.

Unaware and ignorant of the ongoings between her chosen god and Ru’s unfortunate situation, she hummed under her breath again, changing her tune to another sea shanty. “A dragon,” and then her smile turned all the more Cheshire. After all, it couldn’t be just her and a pumpkin launching into battle. The craving had been there long before and still remained; enough for her to pursue and persist. “I need some of the ash for a nest.”

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

Hotaru

What indeed? “Visitation wouldn’t be much of an issue, but my own comfort is something I’m willing to sacrifice to make it easier. Until they’re a little older.” And more capable of voicing their own opinions on the matter. Hotaru wouldn’t sway them to think any certain way about Remi, Ronin, or Mateo. In fact she was stubbornly mute about it. Her children’s choices would be accepted with open arms, regardless of the pull Ru sometimes feels to Torchline.

Ru tucks and ties her dress up into a knot at her hip, and then begins helping the girl sift through the ash, dumping handfuls to hurry the process along. A croon of appreciation hums in her throat, envisioning destruction and adventure made all the more potent by a dragon’s presence. “Of course you did you little firebug,” Hotaru laughs. Slowing, but not pausing, she spares a more serious glance out of the corner of her eye. “How are you doing at home, sweetheart?” Voice soft with concern, but not patronizing. Always fond of pet names and the like, though she’s had woefully few chances to use them on Melita in the past seasons. Did she still live with Nate and Sunjata? And…well, how was that going? Considering the girl is still clearly faithful to Ludo, Ru can’t imagine the brewing storm going on in the household - or in the honeybee’s heart.

from the base of her neck to the arch of her eyelids
her beauty made a slave of me

MELITA

The honeybee wondered if there was more being left unsaid under the surface. Visitations. Comforts. Sacrifices. While she didn’t have to deal with these multitudes, her thoughts volleyed back to Nate, to Sunjata, to the quickly growing brood they’d gathered too. Melita was her own island of storms and tempests, of infernos and destruction, and didn’t have to fetter about, worry, about these particulars. Her nose wrinkled slightly, brow furrowing, uncertain of what to do or say about the situation. “Sounds complicated,” she uttered over the ditties of her hums, the complexities not her burden, but certainly something she’d yearn to avoid for the future.

“Thank you,” was a nod of gratitude towards Ru’s assistance, and Fangorn’s vines began to pitch in too, casually sifting through the dirt and soil, loam and earth, for the bounty of ash. She blinked for a moment at the question – and then figured the Valkyrie must’ve thought she was with her uncles. “Oh, I’m still staying at the house in Aumakua. I’ve got it pretty much to myself.” Whether or not this was a saddening thing didn’t really occur to her – the vast halls might’ve been empty, but she wasn’t. She didn’t have to tread lightly or carefully around the dramatics of the Flood, and she still continued her smuggling proportions. She hadn't been invited to live with them anyway - not after everything.

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

Hotaru

Hotaru barks a graceless laugh at Melita’s endearing forthrightness. “Oh, it is. But my children make it worth it, and so I endeavor to try my best.” The honeybee need not understand, childless and young as she is, but Ru doesn’t underestimate her sharp mind and capacity for empathy either.

A hum of acknowledgment leaves her, but nothing more. Gratitude is unnecessary. Melita has been taken under the Valkyrie’s wing, and as such is entitled to the woman’s efforts in ways others would never bear witness to. Though she casts a sharp, surprised glance sideways at the girl’s admission. “I think it’s a great chance for you to grow,” she praises, letting the words settle and take root before she continues a few moments after. “But I hope it was your choice.” And that she had not simply been abandoned, and was choosing to look on the brighter side of things. Perhaps it’s cruel or disingenuous of her to think such things of the two men she had once loved, and perhaps always would, but she is too jaded to consider it an impossibility. Pausing, she dusts her hands perfunctorily (though it does little to help) before she lays one on Melita’s closest forearm. “I know you are a woman in your own right, firebug, but it would help me sleep better at night if you would add some defenses to the house. It pains me to be so far if you should need me.” And though she doubts Melita has made enemies, Ru can’t help but wish she would make the house into a stronghold - and that she would use it, when the war comes. Ru knows it’s an impossible dream. She can’t ask Melita to stay out of it, doubts the girl would listen if she dared to ask directly. So instead she settles for these vague, subtle pleas.

from the base of her neck to the arch of her eyelids
her beauty made a slave of me

MELITA

Considering taking care of herself, Fangorn, and any host of responsibilities she’d managed to snag along the way was an undertaking, Melita could only shake her head at Hotaru’s insistence. “I hope you make time for yourself too,” or maybe that was what this occasion had become.

Regardless, she placed the ash further into her bounty, fingers splaying through it so they were inevitably soot-stained. “They left it behind,” she murmured, another shrug undulating through her shoulders, and her too by the way of it. But she wasn’t going to let it get her down, and the echoes of those thoughts were abandoned for greater potential. “I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.” None of her actions would be – in all her steadfast, unrelenting glory. She pooled some more of the collected filaments in between her hands, maneuvering them out of her hold soon after.

The notions thereafter and the hand on her arm gave her pause, a rumination with a furrowed brow and gilded gaze. “What do you mean? I can defend myself perfectly fine.” Sometimes she thought of herself as a pulsing, infernal threat, and there were days marked by her ruthlessness, waiting to be unleashed from her threshold; barely, briefly contained.

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

Hotaru

Her heart warms helplessly at the girl's care, so rarely seen and so offhand, but Hotaru knows her too well to not see it plain. "I try. This has been a good go of it so far." A conspiratorial wink, and another handful of ash, and Hotaru lets the conversation steer elsewhere.

Her teeth grind against her will when that 'elsewhere' is exactly where she'd feared. But her anger and injustice will do Melita no good. Hotaru can scarcely even have civil reunions with Sunjata these days, i wouldn't be worth burning that progress to the ground over the young woman when she is clearly fine. Perhaps not fully at peace with the whys and hows, but flourishing on her own regardless. Incapable of answering without some sort of poison lacing her tongue, Hotaru works on swallowing it down instead. Refocusing.

"It's not you individually I worry about so much," Hotaru says, measured and slow, weighing her words carefully so as not to insult the young woman. Instead she sits back, butt on her heels and kneeling in the ash, and regards Melita plainly. "Sunjata is Frey's demigod, and Nate is The Voice's. They've made their choices as men, as husbands. I don't know where you stand in the war, or if you do at all, but your involvement with them may make you a target. Someone who is seen to be too in the middle." And strong as Melita is, she is Ru's. Not quite a child beneath her wing, but something similar, and as such she is afforded the protection Hotaru gives all those she loves. "If you're wounded or otherwise need to lay low, prepping the house could be a good idea, even if it's something you work on slowly."

from the base of her neck to the arch of her eyelids
her beauty made a slave of me

MELITA

Unaware of the trials and tribulations forged along Hotaru’s mind, she continued tending to the ash and soot, occasionally making tiny piles and then orchestrating designs in the soft layers. Some of the sun. Some of the earth. Some of pumpkins, to which Fangorn growled in earnest. Some of dragons, wings unfurled and free – though none that would resemble her uncle. Only thereafter, when the topic shifted, did her features too, and the carefree, childish ministrations ceased.

Instinct recoiled and snapped, impulsive decisions and weights yearning to break free. To say she didn’t know where she was either. To say that no one had ever pressed or deigned or directed her where to go.

Except that wasn’t true, and hadn’t been for some time, no matter where her love for relatives bloomed and blossomed, where kin strayed, where opinions differed. The fire in her belly roared and for a moment she wondered what it would be like to be so firmly detached along middle grounds. Was that freedom, or stupidity? “My loyalty is to Ludo,” she said instead, swallowing down a measure of something that hurt and sizzled and burned all the way down her throat. Maybe what it meant to Nate. “I promised it a long time ago.” But she shrugged her shoulders, unaware if she had enemies or adversaries, if they would hurt her to get to her uncles (doubtful that Sunjata would even care). “Aren’t we all targets in some way then? Does it even matter?”

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

Hotaru

Hotaru kneels patiently by Melita’s side, weathering the silence as the girl clearly struggles with her initial, automatic reactions. It inspires a quiet sort of pride in her. Melita may not be able to control her expressions - far too used to wearing her emotions on her sleeve, shameless and bright - but she is becoming tempered steel with age instead of the molten fire she used to be.

She is both surprised and not by the honeybee’s answer. So for a moment she merely nods slowly, accepting and free of judgment or physical, outward reaction that may imply it. Heedless of her pale dress she folds her ash-stained hands in her lap. The question the girl asks heavy in her mind.

“It does. To me especially.” Because it’s you, goes unsaid, the girl easy with Ru’s physical affections but easy to fluster into denial with words much like Deimos. “You saw the mob that was so easily stirred up against Sunjata. The Priest who has appeared and preached twice now on the streets of Torchline when he was Governor and who Nate nearly attacked I heard. These were all public events.” Events Ru is unsure if Melita was there for, but which nearly all Torchers had heard of at least secondhand. “Now they are both demigods for deities opposing each other. And you - you are publicly known as someone close to them. Someone they care for.” Sighing, Hotaru lifts her gaze, and it is cold and sharp with far too much knowledge. “If it were me, I would certainly strike you down if it meant injuring them in turn. Ensuring their grief weakened them.”

She blinks and softens, no longer the rigid, regal creature that had peered in from the past. “And maybe it’s just my paranoia, I don’t suspect any major players to do so,” and she is too trusting in that, but she doesn’t see Wessex or the other Ascended doing it, “but you are loyal to Ludo as you said. People don’t need guidance or commands to feel what they are doing is correct if it is on behalf of their god.” Fanatics existed in both camps, super-powered and civilian alike. And had they not already seen firsthand the power of a mob? One that had even the most pitifully minor of magics and items?

from the base of her neck to the arch of her eyelids
her beauty made a slave of me

MELITA

More designs in the ash, more billowing words in her brain. Her fingers painted figments of yesteryears with implements of fire, her eyes on soil rather than on Hotaru. She had seen the mob. She’d been inside the burning house, trying to save kittens and companions. She’d heard about the Priest. “Sunjata doesn’t care, well…only about Nate.” Not a difficult argument to make, striving to slant it that she was really no one’s enemy. And for some reason she didn’t give a damn either – blasé and unaffected, ready and willing to fight for herself. That was how she’d survived for so long anyway, and from a tender, young age. Gone were ramparts of childhood, sending honeybees straight into flames. And she’d taken them all into her hands – every last ember, every last speck of coal, carving infernos in her wake. “I wouldn’t be worth it.” A shrug followed; not weakened or sobered by the notions, merely speaking the truth. “And I would fight back.” With every tooth, nail, weapon, and justification in her arsenal.

Fangorn’s vines whipped across the loam, and she followed the curlicue lines and patterns imprinted into its veneer. Instead of catering to the stretches of paranoia, other than the potential for making the house a defensive mechanism, her eyes flickered upwards, back to the woman before her. "What about you? Where are you going to stand in all of this?”

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight