perfect places
For Vervain
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: 10,652
MP: 9824
#15
 
M E L I T A


Acceptance – raw and real, chiseled the radiance and luminescence along the girl and made her all the more beaming, all the more tangible, glowing, a luster of potency and fortitude, might in the amber weight of her stare.

To Fangorn’s delight, Vai moved no closer despite her warm words, and he presumed it was due to his ferocious, terrifying appearance. Melita shook her head and rolled her eyes at him, but her sundry grin managed to withhold the horrors of her companion, slinking further into curiosity and mayhem. She stepped lightly, a piece of air, ethereal and delightful when she chose to be; more often than not she was a leaping blade in the grass, rambunctious, dangerous, and impulsive, an impetuous flash of fervency and passion. “What other interesting things have you seen?” Her eyes flickered back to Vai, and held every ounce of intrigue, mayhem, and mischief imaginable, a lover of stories, a forgotten portion of fey and fairy, battle-intrepid shield maiden and fiery, ferocious imp all thrown into one.

But her inquiries were boundless, endless, eternal in the soft light and Flowerbirth air; no longer distracted by the hums and melodies of bees, she was allowed to suddenly delve into every nuance and notion she could think of, Fangorn tightly clasped to her shoulder as she bounded over a fallen log. On second thought, she leaped back toward its sanction, and climbed on top of it, balancing along the threshold with graceful, vigorous ease. “What do you like to do?” Melita uttered as she played along the wood, before diving off its end and into a patchwork of leaves and brush, turning towards the other woman once more, genuinely interested – there were all sorts of purposes thriving along these crowns and kingdoms, and while Melita had persisted, had endured, had survived, the only thing that ever held her attention long enough had been fighting, skirmishes, and sedition.





Vervain
Vervain Calob
Huntress / Witch

Age: 44 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 16 - Int:
COCO - Regular - Cloud Wyrm
Played by: Honey Offline
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Posts: 1,328 | Total: 16,318
MP: 0
#16



Watching the other woman, so bright and vibrant and full of energy, sent warmth blooming in Vervain's chest. She wished, almost, that she could move with her, light on her feet and as at home in the wilds of nature as a man in the comfort of his house - and she could, normally, if it weren't for the precious cargo she was carrying. And so Vai left the leaping, diving, balancing and exploration to Melita, more than happy to supply the conversation as she danced about the Glade.

"Hm? Nothing too dangerous, thankfully," she said with a laugh. "Besides the gourds and the luxere, I've seen some hanging snakes in the woodlands. And snow moss, too - that's good on a warm day." Smiling, she shrugged her shoulders as if to apologise that she couldn't offer anything more interesting. Vai kept a whole host of fairytales and other myths and stories to hand, though - should Melita want to hear about something less close to home, she would be more than happy to abide.

"I'm a huntress by trade," she explained. "And I owned the Rathskeller for a while. Now, though, I work at the infirmary. I'm able to heal using magic, so it seemed silly not to help out. What about you?"

vervain
she's a wild one with an angel's face

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: 10,652
MP: 9824
#17
 
M E L I T A


Melita had been hoping for monsters in stories, the enveloping, clicking of jaws, fangs, and talons, but she’d take anything she could grasp hold of and imagine – the delicacy of snow moss, hanging snakes embedded in branches, camouflaged to match the boughs. She shrugged her shoulders too, the winsome smile curled back into her features as her eyes lifted to the glade’s structure, glancing at the canopy and its bright, serene hues, a blend of sunshine trickling into the greens. Where Vai had shared, the honeybee girl intended to do the same, lacking shades of brutality and behemoth outskirts, diving into the core of her youth, before the days became sinister and Stygian, before she’d been uprooted and sent straight into the slaughter. “My sister, friends, and I once found a tunnel of glass in my old home.” Here, her grin grew Cheshire, conforming to all the suspected arrays of mischief and upheaval settled into her bones, into her veins, into the scorching flames of her ferocity. It’d all started there, but grew and grew into sedition and revolution, a line of irreverence dotting her brow. “It led into the ocean, and we could see everything! There were fish and coral, beautiful, all sorts of shapes, colors, and sizes.” Her voice ended somewhat wistful, memories of her face pressed against the glass, leaving her prints and marks before it shuttered and fell into shadow. Would they still be there, she wondered, had the false god not condemned it all to pieces and shards?

Then she listened to Vai’s occupations, the series and cycles of huntress intentions laced with Rathskeller ownership and healing properties. Her eyes segmented solely on the other woman now, fiery, persistent, and determined. “Thank you for opening up the Rathskeller during LongNight,” she said without a moment’s hesitation, extending acknowledgments where they were needed, a benefactor of the woman’s kindness. Then she mulled over the latest inquiry, because there was naught she’d committed to in terms of interests, intrigue, or profession. Curiosity compelled her to every corner and element of the earth, and the past had turned her straight into living and endurance, a fortitude of might nettled in her sides, in her ribs, in her soul. “You’re quite talented!” She meant it with veracity and sincerity, her smile growing softer while her eyes danced elsewhere. “All I’ve done is survive, so far.” It sounded pathetic, in a way, to have only measured her lifetime in a series of disaster and chaos, to simply remain when others had become so much more.




Vervain
Vervain Calob
Huntress / Witch

Age: 44 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 16 - Int:
COCO - Regular - Cloud Wyrm
Played by: Honey Offline
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Posts: 1,328 | Total: 16,318
MP: 0
#18



"A tunnel made of glass?" Vervain echoed, blue eyes widening a fraction as her imagination filled in the blanks with ethereal blue and rainbow coloured fish. It sounded fantastical, and that was saying something considering the nature of the world in which they lived. She smiled to herself, letting her mind run riot on the magic in Melita's words. "Perhaps there are places similar to that here," she suggested, throwing out the suggestion easily.

If there was a Spire and a barrier, why not a glass tunnel giving a window out into the ocean deep?

At the mention of the Rathskeller and Longnight, Vervain nodded quietly, her smile fading somewhat. It had been a good idea, for all the drama and distress it had brought along for the ride. "I dare not think what could have happened to those who were left outside otherwise." And some had not made it, even then.

Clearing her throat to banish those dark thoughts, Vai glanced sidelong at Melita and grinned. "Survival is the greatest skill of all," she said. "It's how I became a hunter and tracker. I could teach you, if you like. How to track prints, make traps, use a bow. Unless you know all of that already."

vervain
she's a wild one with an angel's face

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
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#19
 
M E L I T A


Maybe there were; Melita believed in it wholeheartedly – this place with its gods, its demons, its tragedies and travesties, was bound to have tranquility amidst the damned. Helovia had its moments of utter treachery, but its beauty was finessed along those woven frames too, beatific and grand, luminescent and boundless, peaks rising along the north, snow-touched and powerful, with the sands and its molten temples in the south, draconic war-cries carrying them home. “I hope so,” she dreamed, rhapsody and harmony filling in the pockets of doubt, curling and coiling over the cracks in her foundation. The past was a treasure she never truly let go of – particles that had solidified her curiosity, her discord, her whimsical, mercurial delights before everything fell apart.

She watched Vai’s smile fade briefly, muffled hers into a slight frown, glanced elsewhere, at boughs that could’ve been snakes, at butterflies coasting their way through the warming glade. The girl hadn’t intended to draw out the painful reminders of Longnight; they were escaping its aftermath now, in those channels and narrowed halls of light after Stygian barbarities and cold, unrelenting forces. “It was a good thing to do,” came the murmur, hushed but defiant all the same; yearning to drag up those heroic deeds above the carnage, the disasters, the horrific screaming from beyond the door. How many had gone unanswered? It was a short interval of thought, a shudder lingering down her spine, for all the howls meant to be tricks, for all the wails meant to be deliverance and safety.

The grin was back though on Melita’s survival statements – and she might’ve glowed at the praise, beaming and radiant, a tiny bit ethereal if seen in the right light (the other contortions could’ve heralded mischief and disaster, too many tempestuous beams). The offer thereafter was the highlight of all, she jumped at the chance, at the opportunity, to savor any information or expertise. “I would love that!” The girl was ravenous for so many things, beyond glory and triumph, beyond power and strength, might and fortitude, thirsty and hungry for sagacity and wisdom, for expertise and precision, when she’d only had the time to brandish and hold a few. “I know some,” but it was met with a shrug, as if it was all worthless in place of Vai’s molded background. She craved more and more, rapacious and hungry for the opportunities to grab and snare, to twist and clench, to have when the moments were right, when things could be more than just futile, when she could do more than run and escape.





Vervain
Vervain Calob
Huntress / Witch

Age: 44 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 16 - Int:
COCO - Regular - Cloud Wyrm
Played by: Honey Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,328 | Total: 16,318
MP: 0
#20



"Well, thank you for saying so. I only hope that we are a little better prepared for LongNight next time." Vai sighed, and she was more than happy to let the conversation bounce onto more pleasant matters. Indeed, the thought of teaching the vibrant young woman beside her any and all tricks of her trade was a welcome distraction. And besides, the Hollowed Grounds could always use more hunters and trackers - the skills were invaluable.

"Well," she said, "whilst I'm not really in a state to shoot a bow currently, I can teach you verbally, and I can show you how to make traps. I have a cabin in the Woodlands. How do you feel, about coming by one day? I'll show you the basics, and we can go from there?"

vervain
she's a wild one with an angel's face

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
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#21
 
M E L I T A


How had she come to be so blessed in this foreign world? Had she simply spent enough days suffering, striving, and craving, and the Gods sent them all her way, eager and fervent, ready for her to embrace and learn precision instead of pure, wild abandon? Her heart lurched and soared, her grin was a luminescent arch streaked with veracity and ferocity, untamed locks bounding past her shoulders in a rivulet of scorching fire, a promise, a benediction. “Yes!” She beamed along the logs, the leaves, the fallen soil, no longer so barbed and thorned, but a demanding, incredulous force, capable of soaking in each and every lesson the realms had to offer (and she’d seen the cruelty, the barbarity, yearned for the better annals, tomes, and rituals). And while patience was not one of her virtues, eternally fervent, ardent, capable of stoking flames for the sole purpose of her aspirations, her glorious ambitions (body pulsing, an ebullient hum in the shake of her shoulders, in the savage motion of her waltz), she could at least wait and embrace for this. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there.” The vow pervaded into the loam, an oath and assurance she was entirely capable of keeping; hands itching for the wood and strings of a bow, for the strength and durability of power, of knowledge, of all the things she’d ever craved.




Vervain
Vervain Calob
Huntress / Witch

Age: 44 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 16 - Int:
COCO - Regular - Cloud Wyrm
Played by: Honey Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,328 | Total: 16,318
MP: 0
#22



Vai grinned back to her young apprentice-to-be, nodding to her and strolling through the Glade as naturally as any of the forests she had called her home. It would be good, she thought, to work with her hands again, and more to impart wisdom and skill that could then be used elsewhere. With a light sigh, the witch smiled up into the canopy of green high above their heads.

"Then it's a deal," she confirmed. "The days are getting longer and the game will be good. Give it a month or so and we'll have so much to hunt, we won't know what to do with it all." And until then, there was always this to enjoy; the sweet air and the music of the bees.

{END}

vervain
she's a wild one with an angel's face



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