@bricky what kinda stuff you into?
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LadyAnnaLee
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Firmly. Grasp it.
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Rohaan's eyes, bloodshot from the tears, had veins of pale silver where there would have been red in anyone else's. Likewise, instead of his cheeks flushing red, his olive skin seemed to pale a little, gaining a barely perceptible milky quality. It was distinct from the paleness of illness, or of desperately clenched fists. Humans often found it counterintuitive and in their early days together, Berlin had frequently missed cues he likely would not have missed in a red blooded face. Those were usually the days he got bitten or scratched.
Though the nature of his physiology was undoubtedly and sometimes uncomfortably not quite human, his expression certainly was human enough. The wet streaked cheeks, the trembling lip, the sniffling, and his iron grip on Pieter's arm as though he feared the man would float away if he let him go, all painted the picture of an ordinary human boy, if not in body then in soul.
Those azurite eyes looked up into Pieter's with a seriousness that did not match his age. "Even you?" He'd finally given voice to the fear that had been gnawing at him. Though his first thought had immediately been they've come back to take me, that thought at least he was able to reason away. But the possibility that they could kill or capture his chosen family? That fear still troubled his little heart. He had gathered that Barizians were after magic achieved through blood. And magical blood had to be at least perceived as being better for the task whether it truly was or not. Rohaan guessed that if these rats knew the crew was primarily magical, they might be in even greater danger. "Promise me you won't let them take you, too." And then, he considered a moment and his face screwed up with a black hate as he added, "Then promise me they'll fucking burn."
---
"Exploit them?" Uban blinked, wondering if he could be exploited in a similar way. But then, he was not a rune, nor did he have one, so maybe it wasn't possible? Though he was curious, he wasn't troubled. "Fascinating! I never knew any of this stuff was even possible. So as you learn more, you collect runes on your staff?" His eyes drifted down to the staff, studying it with a new perspective. Instead of seeing the bare wood and few runes and considering them rudimentary, he simply saw a person whom he thought incredibly talented, and a whole staff full of potential for more. It almost didn't seem possible. He'd forgotten about their guests entirely, and his lute sat propped up against the gunnel; Hana had his full attention. Consciously, he thought learning about magic was interesting and enjoyed hearing her talk about it. Subconsciously, he was too stricken by the electric connection he shared with her to think about anything else but her. He was too stricken by her.
Uban pointed to one of the runes. "What's this one for?" As an experiment, he extended his senses towards it but felt nothing beyond his own being. Evidently it had nothing to do with lightning, and absently he wondered what it would be like to touch other elements the way he could touch lightning.
Though the nature of his physiology was undoubtedly and sometimes uncomfortably not quite human, his expression certainly was human enough. The wet streaked cheeks, the trembling lip, the sniffling, and his iron grip on Pieter's arm as though he feared the man would float away if he let him go, all painted the picture of an ordinary human boy, if not in body then in soul.
Those azurite eyes looked up into Pieter's with a seriousness that did not match his age. "Even you?" He'd finally given voice to the fear that had been gnawing at him. Though his first thought had immediately been they've come back to take me, that thought at least he was able to reason away. But the possibility that they could kill or capture his chosen family? That fear still troubled his little heart. He had gathered that Barizians were after magic achieved through blood. And magical blood had to be at least perceived as being better for the task whether it truly was or not. Rohaan guessed that if these rats knew the crew was primarily magical, they might be in even greater danger. "Promise me you won't let them take you, too." And then, he considered a moment and his face screwed up with a black hate as he added, "Then promise me they'll fucking burn."
---
"Exploit them?" Uban blinked, wondering if he could be exploited in a similar way. But then, he was not a rune, nor did he have one, so maybe it wasn't possible? Though he was curious, he wasn't troubled. "Fascinating! I never knew any of this stuff was even possible. So as you learn more, you collect runes on your staff?" His eyes drifted down to the staff, studying it with a new perspective. Instead of seeing the bare wood and few runes and considering them rudimentary, he simply saw a person whom he thought incredibly talented, and a whole staff full of potential for more. It almost didn't seem possible. He'd forgotten about their guests entirely, and his lute sat propped up against the gunnel; Hana had his full attention. Consciously, he thought learning about magic was interesting and enjoyed hearing her talk about it. Subconsciously, he was too stricken by the electric connection he shared with her to think about anything else but her. He was too stricken by her.
Uban pointed to one of the runes. "What's this one for?" As an experiment, he extended his senses towards it but felt nothing beyond his own being. Evidently it had nothing to do with lightning, and absently he wondered what it would be like to touch other elements the way he could touch lightning.
sorry for such a long delay. somewhere between being busy and feeling a little less than inspired it took me a bit, but I did get a post out eventually!
Dawn broke over Azurei, though its inhabitants were not greeted with the piercing orange glare of the naked rising sun like they were so accustomed to. Instead, the light came through a filter of clouds that gathered more densely by the hour. Nightguards and goat herders alike looked to the sky with furrowed brows. There was a rainy season--great monsoons that kept the arid land alive--but this was not such a time. What was more, the sea was unsettled, brimming with an energy that was unusual for early morning. Sailors, remembering the spectacle they'd seen the day before with the Seed Bearer, decided it would be best to keep ashore for the time being.
By morning, a time when most of Azurei was active before the heat of the day got too intense, little droplets of rain began to sporadically fall. It was not yet a true rain, a deluge of water from the sky, but it was as if the sky was ready, bursting, and yet barely restraining itself for the Seed Bearer's command. The stone gave off a comfortable, earthy scent of petrichor as the little droplets fell into the dust, the wind swept in more clouds to dim the sky, and the sea hammered the shore with foamy waves. Astra knew it would be called, and it was ready.
Ridahne with Ajoran in tow came to the room where Darin was staying. She'd actually checked the stables first and was surprised not to find her there, and that seemed the next best option. Ridahne knocked once. "Darin!" she shouted, joy in her tone. She opened the door, trying not to burst it open. "Darin, it's starting to rain!" she laughed. "Astra is chomping at the bit to dance with you, my friend. Shall we go and greet it?"
By morning, a time when most of Azurei was active before the heat of the day got too intense, little droplets of rain began to sporadically fall. It was not yet a true rain, a deluge of water from the sky, but it was as if the sky was ready, bursting, and yet barely restraining itself for the Seed Bearer's command. The stone gave off a comfortable, earthy scent of petrichor as the little droplets fell into the dust, the wind swept in more clouds to dim the sky, and the sea hammered the shore with foamy waves. Astra knew it would be called, and it was ready.
Ridahne with Ajoran in tow came to the room where Darin was staying. She'd actually checked the stables first and was surprised not to find her there, and that seemed the next best option. Ridahne knocked once. "Darin!" she shouted, joy in her tone. She opened the door, trying not to burst it open. "Darin, it's starting to rain!" she laughed. "Astra is chomping at the bit to dance with you, my friend. Shall we go and greet it?"
promise I haven't abandoned you, been busy with camping and projects and all kinds of things. I'll get you a post eventually, promise!
It dawned suddenly on Rohaan that Pieter didn't know. He supposed that was possible, though he often held the belief that the adults in his life always seemed to know what was going on. Mostly, that held true. He thought Pieter knew where Kaga Met came from but...evidently he didn't. Feeling a bit less like the whole world was ganging up on him and the people he loved were betraying him, he lost a little of his venom. Only a little; he was still visibly upset, but upon that realization, he looked a little less like he was going to torch the ship. Did everyone else know, or just Berlin? It didn't matter, he was still furious at Berlin for letting this happen. He knew allies in the coming battle would be a good thing but...well, he was still mad.
Unsure of what else to do with himself, he got up and took the pot of potatoes and a fork and began angrily stabbing at them, and only used the back of the tines to mash the potatoes as an afterthought. He was quiet for a while, then, softly, "They're..." It was hard to even say it and he felt the words stick in his throat. "They're from Bariz." His lip trembled a little. "For all I know, I could be the last living Vokurian of Ikheda island because of Barizians and Berlin--" he clamped his mouth shut and his lips twisted in an attempt to keep them from quivering. Unsuccessfully. Suddenly, he finally determined that what he wanted at the moment was consolation, so he buried his face into Pieter's stomach, his wiry arms curling around him and his little fists balling up handfuls of his shirt and apron.
"I'm so mad," he said into Pieter's shirt. It was not often that Rohaan actually verbally expressed what he was feeling. Usually, it just sort of came out in his body language or mood rather than in actual words. He did not say he was scared, though that was obvious enough. "It's like he doesn't even care..." he choked. He couldn't decide which was worse: the discomfort of having these strangers in his home, or Berlin's betrayal. His trust in the man ran deep, and on some level he knew inherently that Berlin would do nothing to willingly harm him, and he probably had some good reason for doing this in the first place. But it still hurt. And he still had pervasive thoughts of a dark and overpacked ship's hold filled with children he knew by name.
---
Uban smiled. "Of course. You're one us, now, and we--oooh!" The little thread of electricity buzzing between his fingers diverted suddenly, spanning now to one of Hana's fingers. Uban stared, mouth open, utterly surprised that such a thing was even possible. she had once used the rune to hold electricity he'd generated in her own hands, but it had never spanned between the two of them. For as long as he'd known about his power, the forces of lightning had belonged to him and to the sky alone. It was momentarily jarring to have that power be suddenly divided. But he did not look offended. Instead, his eyes, turning from green to gold before Hana's own eyes, widened and his lips spread in a grin. "You can do that..?" His mind whirled with possibilities.
"So, how often do you do this with other girls?"
Uban's eyes glinted and his eyebrows lifted a little. "Actually, it's my first time..." he said playfully and with unabashed innuendo. After all, he was at heart forever the witty and often bawdy bard. It was then that Uban became aware of...something. At first, he wasn't sure what it was, but he could definitely sense some change in the familiar electric thrum. His smile faded a little bit and his golden eyes changed from jovial to curious as he studied her intently. He felt...something else in addition to the steady current he knew so well. Something new. Something rhythmic. A pulsating--no! A pulse.
"I..." he chuckled very softly, disbelievingly, as if he'd just seen the beauty of the Northern Lights for the first time. "I can feel your heartbeat," he said finally, softly. "It sends out a tiny pulse..." A whirl of exhilaration flooded him; he found it strangely intoxicating and...intimate.
Uban blinked, breaking the connection. If he looked embarrassed, it was only for a brief flash. "Whoa..." He ran a hand over his curly hair and there was an audible crack from the static. "That was incredible! I wonder how far we could stretch it? We oughtta get you a ring or a tattoo or something so I can just pass it to you like a ball!" He generated a small little ball in one hand and passed it behind his back, as if juggling, to his other hand before letting it dissipate with a small pop.
Unsure of what else to do with himself, he got up and took the pot of potatoes and a fork and began angrily stabbing at them, and only used the back of the tines to mash the potatoes as an afterthought. He was quiet for a while, then, softly, "They're..." It was hard to even say it and he felt the words stick in his throat. "They're from Bariz." His lip trembled a little. "For all I know, I could be the last living Vokurian of Ikheda island because of Barizians and Berlin--" he clamped his mouth shut and his lips twisted in an attempt to keep them from quivering. Unsuccessfully. Suddenly, he finally determined that what he wanted at the moment was consolation, so he buried his face into Pieter's stomach, his wiry arms curling around him and his little fists balling up handfuls of his shirt and apron.
"I'm so mad," he said into Pieter's shirt. It was not often that Rohaan actually verbally expressed what he was feeling. Usually, it just sort of came out in his body language or mood rather than in actual words. He did not say he was scared, though that was obvious enough. "It's like he doesn't even care..." he choked. He couldn't decide which was worse: the discomfort of having these strangers in his home, or Berlin's betrayal. His trust in the man ran deep, and on some level he knew inherently that Berlin would do nothing to willingly harm him, and he probably had some good reason for doing this in the first place. But it still hurt. And he still had pervasive thoughts of a dark and overpacked ship's hold filled with children he knew by name.
---
Uban smiled. "Of course. You're one us, now, and we--oooh!" The little thread of electricity buzzing between his fingers diverted suddenly, spanning now to one of Hana's fingers. Uban stared, mouth open, utterly surprised that such a thing was even possible. she had once used the rune to hold electricity he'd generated in her own hands, but it had never spanned between the two of them. For as long as he'd known about his power, the forces of lightning had belonged to him and to the sky alone. It was momentarily jarring to have that power be suddenly divided. But he did not look offended. Instead, his eyes, turning from green to gold before Hana's own eyes, widened and his lips spread in a grin. "You can do that..?" His mind whirled with possibilities.
"So, how often do you do this with other girls?"
Uban's eyes glinted and his eyebrows lifted a little. "Actually, it's my first time..." he said playfully and with unabashed innuendo. After all, he was at heart forever the witty and often bawdy bard. It was then that Uban became aware of...something. At first, he wasn't sure what it was, but he could definitely sense some change in the familiar electric thrum. His smile faded a little bit and his golden eyes changed from jovial to curious as he studied her intently. He felt...something else in addition to the steady current he knew so well. Something new. Something rhythmic. A pulsating--no! A pulse.
"I..." he chuckled very softly, disbelievingly, as if he'd just seen the beauty of the Northern Lights for the first time. "I can feel your heartbeat," he said finally, softly. "It sends out a tiny pulse..." A whirl of exhilaration flooded him; he found it strangely intoxicating and...intimate.
Uban blinked, breaking the connection. If he looked embarrassed, it was only for a brief flash. "Whoa..." He ran a hand over his curly hair and there was an audible crack from the static. "That was incredible! I wonder how far we could stretch it? We oughtta get you a ring or a tattoo or something so I can just pass it to you like a ball!" He generated a small little ball in one hand and passed it behind his back, as if juggling, to his other hand before letting it dissipate with a small pop.
Very true!
Take your time friend!
Take your time friend!
The Sols murmured softly amongst themselves when Darin lifted herself from the floor with a twist of wind. She had shown them how she could call water to her will when they'd first met, but this was still largely new to them. Their taja tightened grips on spears, staves, or swords, and a few moved just a few inches closer to their respective Sol, but the matriarchs waved them away with small movements of their hands. Nobody specifically mistrusted Darin, but the taja were simply trained to react to anything unusual.
Hanasa-Sol smiled. She, being new to the position, had less of an affectation or aloof bearing and still showed some of her lack of matriarchal training in her free expression of moods and thoughts. "We will not complain about rain here. Our soil thirsts for it, and if it is caught in rain barrels, it will save many a goat herder a long, arduous trek across hot sands."
"We thank you," Another Sol with short black hair and light brown eyes added. "For water is precious to us here. And we welcome you as openly as you come, Astra-Sol. We are glad to have you among us."
The Sota-Sol added, "We will assist you in every way that we can. And we will make sure your letters arrive in a timely manner. We will send a pair of eija to personally deliver them, and with honor. You must tell us about your home before you leave Tasen, if it pleases you. We are very curious to know your origins, Astra-Sol."
Whatever could be said about the Sol's remote loftiness, or how they'd handled the situation with Ridahne, they were at least unfailingly polite to Darin, and held her title in high regard. Higher, perhaps, than even themselves. Whatever complicated feelings that lay between them and Ridahne, of which there were many, there were none between them and Darin. Though they were increasingly beginning to regard them as a bonded pair rather than separate entities. The Sols made gestures of reverence to her as Darin excused herself, and the women let her go without argument. Very few people were permitted to excuse themselves from the presence of the Sols without permission, but Darin was one of those people.
---
Ridahne and Ajoran socialized for a while longer in the main hall before they made their way to the small palace archives, and the master archivist's quarters there. He stood patiently by while Ridahne talked through the new ojih marks extensively with the master archivist, a small woman with wrinkled skin and hair that had long since turned white. By elvish standards, she was ancient, and spent most of her time seated. The woman studied Ridahne's face extensively, taking notes on how the marks should lie on the face, and then had Ridahne use a brush and ink to paint the marks on thick paper multiple times. The master archivist, at last, had Ridahne record the marks in an ancient, well-maintained tome filled with pages of animal parchment, not paper. Ridahne tried so hard to keep her hands from shaking, but she took a few deep breaths and recorded new ojih marks in the official record book of Azurei.
Ridahne felt so free after that. While she had resolved to make the marks true and official, and while they were accurate and honest in their telling of her own story, it had been gnawing at her that she alone had marks that were not officially recorded. To have that dealt with at last lifted a huge weight off her shoulders. She wished she could tell Darin. She would, eventually.
Ridahne and Ajoran sent a letter home to Ajoran's family, informing them of their upcoming wedding and asking them to come, and then retired for the evening. Ridahne did not need to guess to know where Darin was, and for once did not feel the need to fuss over her protection. This palace, even the stables, were heavily patrolled and guarded, and no one moved in and out without someone's knowledge. And anyway, if Ridahne was needed, she knew how to get to the stables quickly.
Hanasa-Sol smiled. She, being new to the position, had less of an affectation or aloof bearing and still showed some of her lack of matriarchal training in her free expression of moods and thoughts. "We will not complain about rain here. Our soil thirsts for it, and if it is caught in rain barrels, it will save many a goat herder a long, arduous trek across hot sands."
"We thank you," Another Sol with short black hair and light brown eyes added. "For water is precious to us here. And we welcome you as openly as you come, Astra-Sol. We are glad to have you among us."
The Sota-Sol added, "We will assist you in every way that we can. And we will make sure your letters arrive in a timely manner. We will send a pair of eija to personally deliver them, and with honor. You must tell us about your home before you leave Tasen, if it pleases you. We are very curious to know your origins, Astra-Sol."
Whatever could be said about the Sol's remote loftiness, or how they'd handled the situation with Ridahne, they were at least unfailingly polite to Darin, and held her title in high regard. Higher, perhaps, than even themselves. Whatever complicated feelings that lay between them and Ridahne, of which there were many, there were none between them and Darin. Though they were increasingly beginning to regard them as a bonded pair rather than separate entities. The Sols made gestures of reverence to her as Darin excused herself, and the women let her go without argument. Very few people were permitted to excuse themselves from the presence of the Sols without permission, but Darin was one of those people.
---
Ridahne and Ajoran socialized for a while longer in the main hall before they made their way to the small palace archives, and the master archivist's quarters there. He stood patiently by while Ridahne talked through the new ojih marks extensively with the master archivist, a small woman with wrinkled skin and hair that had long since turned white. By elvish standards, she was ancient, and spent most of her time seated. The woman studied Ridahne's face extensively, taking notes on how the marks should lie on the face, and then had Ridahne use a brush and ink to paint the marks on thick paper multiple times. The master archivist, at last, had Ridahne record the marks in an ancient, well-maintained tome filled with pages of animal parchment, not paper. Ridahne tried so hard to keep her hands from shaking, but she took a few deep breaths and recorded new ojih marks in the official record book of Azurei.
Ridahne felt so free after that. While she had resolved to make the marks true and official, and while they were accurate and honest in their telling of her own story, it had been gnawing at her that she alone had marks that were not officially recorded. To have that dealt with at last lifted a huge weight off her shoulders. She wished she could tell Darin. She would, eventually.
Ridahne and Ajoran sent a letter home to Ajoran's family, informing them of their upcoming wedding and asking them to come, and then retired for the evening. Ridahne did not need to guess to know where Darin was, and for once did not feel the need to fuss over her protection. This palace, even the stables, were heavily patrolled and guarded, and no one moved in and out without someone's knowledge. And anyway, if Ridahne was needed, she knew how to get to the stables quickly.
Been a little bumpy, to be honest. I'm also currently out of state for my brother's wedding haha. But I'm just siting down now to write a post!!
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