Artful Tenacity

Evie

i'll plant a row of daisy seeds
in the space beneath each eye

What does one do in the wake of losing their last living family member?

Move forward, unfortunately.

Evie has lost enough people in her life to fill multiple tomes. Such was the expected life of anyone born within the barrier. As such she is well-equipped to contend with the crippling weight of grief.

This one, somehow, defies those coping habits.

“Somehow”. She knows why. She feels the absence in her soul where a twin used to reside. The knowledge that even when she dies, she will not be reunited with him.

But Evie is not the type to lay down and die, even with nothing left to live for. She lives on spite alone. And so it is that she’s here in Torchline, hunting down seaweed of all things. The air is cold off the ocean, whipping her bright hair around, and her rolled up pants bare her freckled skin which is tinged blue from wading into the depths of the frigid water. But her stockpile grows, and the tally for her apothecary titters out in her head, and that - for now, for this hour alone - is enough to keep her afloat.

so they'll remind you of your beauty
when they bloom each time you cry

There were many things to do below the waves. But Hadama no longer fit so easily in his mother's forge now that he had earned his mastery in his own right. It was an uncomfortable situation that left him more and more often swimming along the shore to fish and gather in the shallows, his eyes turning more and more towards land and all its many mysteries.

One such mystery caught his eye as he surfaced with a full net of wild mussels and fish. He didn't know many drylanders, but such pale skin was rare along the coast. At least, not without becoming red in short order. The mermanta ducked below the waves and swam closer through the shallowing waters, tracing his way across the ever-shifting sandscape until he judged himself close enough to comfortably converse with the woman before raising his steely-haired, dark-skinned head above the water again. Emerald eyes landed on the seaweed first, and he nodded silent approval before turning to study the human more closely. "Greetings," he rumbled, with a polite nod of his head. "Would you be willing to trade?"

Evie

i'll plant a row of daisy seeds
in the space beneath each eye

Evie is not unaccustomed to being randomly joined on her ventures, but admittedly - hailing from the brittle earth of the Grounds - she doesn’t expect it to come from the ocean. Luckily the ascent is slow enough as not to startle her, but she does stare a little too forthrightly for a moment.

It’s a stare that becomes appreciative easily enough. Handsome men emerging from the sea are more befitting stories she hid beneath her mattress as a girl. Still, her heart is a bitter thing, and her mind a shrewd one, so the question is met with slightly narrowed eyes. “It depends what is on offer. I’m an apothecarist - I would be willing to trade for further plant life, but I’m not averse to considering other offers.” Would he offer a sword like the Lady of the Lake stories? That’s her only familiarity with people emerging from bodies of water offering things.

so they'll remind you of your beauty
when they bloom each time you cry

A flicker of interest lit green eyes at the mention of her profession, and he inclined his head in a deep nod of respect before he considered her terms. "I can trade food. Mussels. Or a future favor." He lifted his bag of fresh forage high enough to show the wet shells and wriggling fins of dinner before submerging them once more.

"I am Hadama." A simple introduction in his low voice, like a distant thunder of surf. "Do you live in Kaiholo?" A less-frequented area of the canals than Haulani, and likely to hold more strangers, though his experience with drylanders in general was still fairly small.

Evie

i'll plant a row of daisy seeds
in the space beneath each eye

Evie can’t help a soft chuckle, flexing her toes beneath the seafoam that chills them. “Future favors hold little water from strangers,” she teases, some half-buried spark of the spitfire woman flickering weakly beneath the surface. “Mussels, however, I can barter for.” Nutritionally dense and with a variety of uses, they’re harder for Evie to harvest herself, and rare in the Grounds. It’s a fair trade.

Wandering deeper in with a bundle of seaweed already tied with twine, Evie ignores the numbness of her protesting legs in favor of the man’s curiosity. Holding out her part of the trade as she considers her response, looking past his dark shoulder to the horizon beyond. “No. I’m from the Hollowed Grounds, but travel is a necessity for ingredients not found locally.” Forcing herself to concentrate and not drift into the cottony numbness of her brain, Evie drags her eyes back to the stranger - and the way he does not rise any further from the depths. “Are you an Attuned, then? I’m afraid I’ve never met a merman before if you’re not, though I’ve heard of your people by now.” There’s no point in trying for awkward, polite shuffling around the subject. And, assuming he takes the seaweed, she extends a hand; prim, poised, perfectly trained. Her heart isn’t in it, though it never was in her lessons either. “I’m Evie. Evie Wordsworth.”

The last.

so they'll remind you of your beauty
when they bloom each time you cry

Rising from the sea like some warm and welcome submarine is a Tumsea. With a smattering of starfish on its shell and a coating of seaweed, the creature looks as if it is trying to reflect the starlit heavens. Slow and kind, the creature glances your way, and though it is difficult to ascribe a smile to a creature such as this, indeed it seems to be smiling at you before descending down back into the waves.

---

You’ve encountered a Tumsea. This counts as a rare creature encounter for the purposes of levelling, but does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention. If you choose to follow this creature, you do so at your own risk, however, just having it in this thread is enough to satisfy your levelling requirements. You may not kill your rare creature without admin permission.

Tumseas (rare/mythical): Smaller cousins of the Tulmhainar, Tumseas are like moving ecosystems all unto themselves. With shells of brilliant blues and earth browns, these turtle-like creatures can grow to nearly 4ft in diameter and can hold their breath for decades at a time. Bringing vibrancy and health to all the underwater trails they follow, Tumseas are thought to be good omens and are often followed by schools of fish encantados

Ah. A pun. Hadama's expression didn't change, but his emerald eyes twinkled with amused appreciation and he tilted his head in acknowledgment. Or perhaps he was simply accepting her agreement to trade.

At the mention of the Hollowed Grounds a thoughtful cast came over the man and he took a longer look at the woman - perhaps seeking pointed teeth or sparks from her eyes. Her comment recalled him to his manners and he inclined his head in confirmation. "Yes, I am a mer. We do not often go to the Hollowed Grounds." The lack of coastline certainly added a layer of difficulty into the journey, of course, but it was an impressively dry understatement for a man who was currently soaking wet. "Yourself?" Attuned, or some other flavor of human?

He had begun to swim closer, a slow approach as he reached politely for her hand, but a shift in the water pressure drew his attention behind him and out to sea - where a rare and welcome sight broke the surface. Steely brows rose in surprise and he paused with his hand half-outstretched as the tumsea thoroughly took his breath away. Not until it descended out of sight again did he remember to exhale and his voice held a note of quiet reverence. "A fortunate meeting, indeed, Evie. A good omen." For those who believed in such things.

Evie

i'll plant a row of daisy seeds
in the space beneath each eye

Mer it is. Evie is polite enough not to attempt to stare beneath the waves to whatever animal his bottom half leads into, but she’s woman enough to admit her curiosity on the subject. The twist of her lips is wry, eyes skipping restlessly away from his to trace the horizon line, incapable of keeping his gaze. “I confess you’re not missing much, it did not fare well as a region beneath the barrier.” The depths of the ocean must surely be more interesting than her homeland could hope to be.

It’s an expected question, but it never fails to make her shoulders stiffen, all traces of easy, swaying movement eradicated into stonelike stillness. Her jaw works soundlessly. The years - plentiful, she can’t deny - of denying her race tie her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She has slowly managed to tell people in recent years, but it never gets easier. “Abandoned,” is her terse response, brooking no further explanation.

The arrival of the giant, beautiful creature is thusly majorly appreciated for the shift in tone in provides. Evie stares blatantly, breath shallow in her chest, in utter awe of the majestic being. Where his hand hovers halfway, hers falls away to her side, fingertips numb as sensation retreats from them to rise emotionally in her breast. Blinking and surprising herself with the moisture found there, Evie only shakes herself out of it as the creature submerges itself anew and the merman speaks. “What was that, do you know?” Not that she minded the interruption that ruined their handshake, civilities weren’t her strong point.

so they'll remind you of your beauty
when they bloom each time you cry

Equally unaware of both Evie's curiosity and her restraint, Hadama only noticed that she looked away from his gaze. Another he had met on this same shore had done something similar, and the mermanta turned his gaze politely elsewhere in the hopes of easing Evie's discomfort.

"I think I can understand that," he said slowly, brow furrowing slightly in deep thought. "I had heard... it was like a tidepool cut off from the sea." Stagnant, brackish, dying... "Is it healing now?" As new waves could bring fresh life into such a pool.

Her terse answer earned only a curious nod in response, emerald eyes bright with further questions that he held back in respect for her obvious desire to drop the subject--

And then, of course, forgotten entirely by the tumsea's appearance. He didn't notice her hand falling away, and once the magnificent creature was gone and he remembered his companion he had forgotten why his was even outstretched. Letting it fall back into the water he gave a slow, reverent nod. "A tumsea. Rare and very welcome in these waters," he replied, voice hushed still with awe.

Evie

i'll plant a row of daisy seeds
in the space beneath each eye

Healing...Evie's grin is wry, strung tight and sharp like barbed wire. Is she not a healer? An apothecarist long before a gifted magic user? And yet all she sees looking out at the Grounds these days is death, incapable of summoning even the barest shreds of optimism. "Environmentally, perhaps." Will it claim her, too? It seems only fitting. What drive does she have to change that ending?

The arrival of the tumsea seems pointed, with that. And it does put a weight of emotion in her chest that is hard to swallow around, throat clicking with the attempt. His soft, hushed voice seems far too gentle for the likes of her rotted self. "Beautiful," she manages to croak, and then lifts a hand - salty from the seaweed she'd gathered - to roughly brush away the wetness at her lashes she finds summoned there by the tumsea's arrival. Clearing her throat (unsuccessfully, as the words whine slightly with the choked state soon after) Evie gestures back to the mussells. "Where were we?"

so they'll remind you of your beauty
when they bloom each time you cry

Human expressions were the same as those among the mer, and Hadama regarded Evie's edged grin thoughtfully. There seemed to be a great deal hidden behind that simple 'perhaps,' and while his curiosity certainly yearned to explore it, his courtesy hesitated to prod at what might be a painful topic.

And then, with the tumsea's arrival, his concerns were washed away like flotsam on the tide. Her words earned only a slight shake of Hadama's steely head; he, too, had lost track of the conversation.

At least for new. Later, perhaps, he could recall her words and wonder...

But for now he nodded and reached down to loosen the ties of the net bag on his harness and pull it free, holding it up out of the water so that Evie could see its heft and fullness for herself. "Mussels for seaweed," he rumbled - not without a wistful glance back over his shoulder towards where the tumsea had been. "Do you have a bag for them?"

Evie

i'll plant a row of daisy seeds
in the space beneath each eye

Evie watches the play of light on his skin as it rises from the water, appreciative but in a distant sort of way. Depression can do that to you, she knows, in a clinical sort of way. It doesn’t make it any easier to cure, aside from shots of her own healing. But grief and depression are hard to distinguish, and everything tastes like ash on her tongue these days.

Stepping deeper into the water and ignoring the way it begins to dampen her clothes as a result. Appraising icy blue eyes take in the heft and circumference of the bag, nodding once when she deems it fair and collecting two of the seaweed bundles in return for his own inspection. While he does, “Yes, by the bundles I have on the beach. Though, if you aren’t awfully busy, I could cook some up for us now?” She’ll use the rest for her personal stock, but they would make a good meal in the interim. And perhaps Evie knows that she’s just a little lonely, and wouldn’t mind a cordial appetizer.

so they'll remind you of your beauty
when they bloom each time you cry

At the mention of cooking a light seemed to come into emerald eyes. Though his expression remained calm, Hadama didn't think nearly as long about this answer as he usually did. "I am not busy. And I have never had them cooked." Spoken with a hint of anticipatory relish. Such a strange, delightful word: cooked. It was an uncommon practice in the undersea, to say the least, and the budding epicure was immediately curious.

He handed the bag over until Evie could empty it of mussels and refill it with seaweed and wriggled in closer to shore. It wasn't particularly graceful, partially beaching himself so his lower half remained in the steady surf and he could lean his elbows onto the wet sand to watch, but it would make it easier to share the coming meal, he hoped.

"Is this seaweed useful in dryland medicines?" he asked curiously.

Evie

i'll plant a row of daisy seeds
in the space beneath each eye

His excitement is ill-concealed, but charming, and it lifts the tired edges of her smile into something more sincere. Forsaking her leggings as a lost cause, Evie meets him halfway and sits in the sand, the thinnest remnants of each wave wetting her backside as she sets about transferring the shells out and the seaweed back into his bag. As she works, she lets her tongue loosen a fraction. “There is no loss of nutrients in cooking them, as was once believed. But I find they’re more palatable cooked.” Pausing, she eyes Hadama, intrigued. “Do you think your tastebuds are different to adjust for your diet below the sea?” A genuine question born of intellectual curiosity, holding herself back from asking him to show her his tongue by a hair.

Her hands tremble suddenly just as he asks his question, ice lodged in her stomach as one hand leaves the bags to reach out to touch the sand beside them. It shifts beneath her touch, dragging driftwood down the sand closer to her upon her command. It’s still terrifying to do even this much in front of strangers, but it’s a mental block only she and other Naturals seems to have these days. For that, she is begrudgingly grateful to The Voice for bringing in the Outlanders, who see magic so very differently and embrace being Abandoned with open arms.

Setting the wood into a picture perfect assembly befitting someone who works with flame quite often, she distracts herself from her terror by answering. “Very. By weight it holds far more minerals the human body needs than most other plants, and has a variety of effects. I prescribe it often for upkeep more than anything - children who have difficulty with stomach problems and can’t keep weight on, for example.” She produces a flint from her bag and sets about starting the fire properly, pleased when it catches without too lengthy of a struggle. “It’s also highly palatable, so people are more inclined to utilize it regularly.”

so they'll remind you of your beauty
when they bloom each time you cry