A Trial by Fire: The Legacy of Hollis Maeby

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Hollis.Maeby
Posts: 76
Character: Hollis Maeby

Re: A Trial by Fire: The Legacy of Hollis Maeby

Post by Hollis.Maeby » October 23rd, 2022, 2:14 pm

It’s Something You Can’t Know

The last several days had gone by in a blur. The preparations for the art show had kept her busy, spending most of the last three evenings with Atticus staging and hanging all of the art. She had been worried few people would be interested, but at the end of it they had more creations than they really knew what to do with.

Quincy had attended the show, along with Drusilla, Constantine, Kyber and dozens others. She had worried it would be awkward, but her interactions with Quincy had felt effortless. Perhaps it was the environment, being surrounded by fine art made for easy conversation.

During the evening Quincy had made time to pull Drusilla aside. Hollis knew he was thanking her for dressing her wound after the attack and looking after her. Despite the conflict between the trio in the past, Hollis felt no concern in their interaction now. She had noticed however that their conversation had taken place in close proximity to her instead of in the basement. It couldn’t be known if this was intentional or not, but Hollis felt it was a nice gesture.

The evening finished with an interpretive live show by Mote. There was no knowing what the small red-head might do, but Hollis was excited to find out. Mote wore skin tight red leathers and constructed the most chaotic impromptu show Hollis had ever seen. It was a true masterpiece.

Hollis had been thankful for the distraction the show brought, but now that it was over she once again had to face herself. The last several days she had been out of sorts. She found herself uncharacteristically easily agitated, paranoid and hyper vigilant in places she used to feel safe. Hollis didn’t recognize herself and even her reflection in the mirror showed a stranger, someone with dark circles under their eyes and gaunt hollow cheeks.

These things had been easier to ignore when she was busy with the show, she could very easily blame her poor sleep schedule on being busy and her lack of appetite on nerves. With those excuses gone and these symptoms remaining she needed to face reality; she wasn’t doing well and if she didn’t get it together others would start to notice.

Hollis was actually a little surprised no one had said anything to her as of yet, what with her behavior in public even lacking. While taking care of Constantine several days before Mote had noticed a bruise and puncture mark on his arm. Knowing that he had been with Lucien the evening before, Hollis was convinced the silver haired man had drugged him.

The next time Hollis encountered Lucien all she saw was red. The very public location, the other people standing around and her language had been of no consequence. It wasn’t until after she had spit her venom at the sailor did she recognize the half dozen other people gathered. Lucien had tried to go and speak with Constantine, but Hollis had blocked his entry to the apartment.

Thinking back on the moment felt like standing outside of herself and watching someone else who had control of her body. Who was she these days? When had she turned into the person to so publicly make a scene such as that? She probably should talk to someone, to a doctor or a priest, but she wasn’t ready to make her problems someone else’s.

She couldn’t sleep for the following two evenings and spent those hours painting a scene of Greatport instead. The incident with Lucien played over and over again in her mind along with the tense disapproval from Constantine upon learning about her actions. There was enough shame and guilt inside of her for putting the Western man at risk, but his disapproval somehow cut deeper than gouges on either of them.

Hollis had been trying to make things right since her outburst and had gone out of her way to apologize to Lucien. It hadn’t been a comfortable conversation, something made more awkward by the location. She had followed him from the Meddler’s Risk when he walked in, saw her and turned around. Lucien made his way into Old Town and down the steps into the bathhouse.

By the time Hollis caught up with him, he was half naked and preparing to enter the large heated bath. Lucien had continued the conversation naked while bathing and Hollis had found great interest in the ceiling. When he was dressed and drying she presented him with the small painting of Greatport she had made over the last few days.

Hollis didn’t actually know if the man was from Greatport or not, but judging by his tattoos, accent and general demeanor she took an educated guess. Lucien had been quite taken with it, his expression while looking upon the artwork appeared as if it evoked many memories.

She was glad to be putting this chapter of her life aside, but even after making amends with those she had lashed out at, her reflection still showed a stranger. She had considered starting to take the sedative that Quincy had obtained for her from Doctor Sindelar, though she was concerned about being locked inside one of her dreams.

No, she didn’t need more sleep, more opportunities for the afflicted to haunt her. What she needed was a new project. Hollis haphazardly cleared the table in her cottage and took out several pieces of paper. She began sketching a floor plan featuring internal and external features of a large building consisting of three rooms. For some time now she had grown frustrated with having to walk back and forth to the craft hall dragging materials along with her.

What she needed was a workshop, a place where she could work at all hours of the night uninterrupted. Hollis spent the rest of the night drawing up these plans with obsessive detail. When the sun rose she’d seek out an architect and plot out a piece of land. She didn’t need a sedative, she didn’t need to rest, what she needed was to keep moving for fear of what standing still might bring.

Hollis.Maeby
Posts: 76
Character: Hollis Maeby

Re: A Trial by Fire: The Legacy of Hollis Maeby

Post by Hollis.Maeby » October 25th, 2022, 5:08 am

Everything Comes Back Around (pt. 1)

The construction on the workshop had taken less time than Hollis had expected. Before the better part of a week was over the large barn-like building stood just outside of the Foundry’s borders. Setting up the work stations and organizing her supplies was taking much longer however. This perhaps would have been different if Hollis hadn’t been so pragmatic about her organization. Everything needed to be in its place and arranged by proximity to its related craft. Finding that system had taken perhaps more time than the construction of the structure itself.

Now that she was happy with the arrangement of every minor detail she had her first real guest to come and see the fruits of her labor. Constantine had walked the rooms with an approving nod, validation that always brought a sense of pride along with it. The Western man observed the back left room and its meticulous arrangement of artistry benches and tailoring work stations before making his way to the next.

The room to the right of the main hall was sparsely decorated. Hollis had added a small twin bed in the corner, a night stand and hanging cabinets for now. There would of course be long nights where she’d need to sleep out here, or so she told herself when the bed was set up. She was considering adding stations for alchemy as well but wasn’t sure if she wanted to dedicate herself to learning and practicing yet another trade.

Constantine walked around the room and shamelessly opened the hanging cabinets to peer inside. Hollis watched him from the door with an amused smile. They had been talking idly while he took in the workshop and the conversation had drifted towards her nightmares and the activities she obsessively partook in to pass the sleepless nights.

“Does nothing help with your sleep?” He asked, stopping in front of the nightstand and opening the drawer to find a stack of sketchbooks. Constantine picked up one bound in green leather and flipped through it with a keen grin.

Hollis watched him and folded her arms loosely about her chest before motioning to the book in his hands, “There’s several of you in there”.

He looked over at her with a guilty smile and snapped the book closed. Hollis didn’t mind if he looked through the drawings, but she also wouldn’t miss an opportunity to tease the man. They had been spending more time together since the Templar Camp and along with that came an increase in their banter. She wasn’t sure if the new closeness was due to their mutual misery as two recently jilted lovers or the traumatic bonding of their shared experience at the camp. Either way, she tried not to think too much about it and instead simply enjoyed the company.

“Meddler was an apt nickname” She said teasingly, shaking her head in mock disappointment.

“True enough. Though it seems so long ago now.”

“I don’t mind if you go through it, I’ve torn out the only incriminating evidence” Hollis chuckled and motioned to the sketch book in his hand. “I need to get around to making another one.”

Constantine’s brow furrowed in consideration, flipping the book over in his hand, stopping on a page with a half torn out section. “Incriminating evidence?”

“Mmhmm” She replied, a coy smirk on her face.

“Hmm. . I’ll be right back” He said as he strode quickly across the room, taking the sketchbook with him.

Hollis watched him leave and couldn’t help but laugh, she didn’t know what he was up to and while she waited she popped out to her cottage to refill her water canteens. When she returned to the workshop Constantine was sitting at the counter in front of the woodworking bench and had the green book in one hand and a torn scrap of paper in the other.

With squinted eyes Hollis tried to recognize the writing on the paper as she walked around behind the counter. Constantine smoothed the scrap out and with both hands fit in neatly against a half torn page in the sketch book.

“Oh no-” The words slipped out of her mouth; he’d kept the childish heart doodle she’d torn from the book when he’d seen it months earlier. A half of a page at best with a simplistic heart marked in the center of it and the equation “3+8”. Hollis’ eyes were the size of saucers now and she could feel the color draining from her face.

“Where did you get that? You’re a packrat.” She gesticulated widely at the paper and in reply Constantine simply grinned crookedly.

“A packrat?” He wrinkled his nose looking up at her, obviously taking some offense to this. “I found it in dee trash pile outside of dee Risk. I saw you ripping pages out one day and thought it was odd. But now I know you were getting rid of incriminating evidence!” He put an emphasis on the last two words and tutted softly.

Her eyes fluttered as she rolled them and her fingers laced to hold the top of her head. She should have known better than to start this battle, he’d mentioned once before that he was in possession of the scrap of paper but at the time it was “lost”.

“I should have known better than to say that.” She shook her head, her hands remaining perched on top of her head.

“Now, what could be so incriminating about dee number eleven?”

“I suppose we’ll never know!”

Hollis narrowed her eyes at the man as he tucked the tattered page away and considered it with a placid expression.

“You know- When I picked dis page up dee first time I thought I’d never know dee meaning. Now, I am not so sure.” His face shifted to a mischievous and wry grin and his hand came up to tap his finger against his chin. “Three plus eight. . Hmm.”

She watched him and drew in a sharp breath, the skin across the top of her cheeks and nose flushing visibly with embarrassment. There had to be a way out of this. What had she said the first time he’d seen it? If she could only recall this previous fib she could get out of this.

“It’s-” Her eyes darted around the room, landing on the anvil and then the engineering table as if she could find some answers there, “It’s a. . Uh. .” Finally her eyes landed on the sketchbook in front of her. “It’s a spell.”

“Interesting, what does it do?”

Hollis nodded quickly as she tried to formulate the rest of this flimsy tale, “Yup, I’m a secret mage.” She held her hands at either side in a shrug. This wasn’t going well.

“What does it do?”

Uuh.. umm It- Luck! Yes, it is lucky!” A fine sweat was starting to form across her forehead and she shifted nervously on her feet.

“Interesting.” Constantine said in a cool voice, obviously amused by how successful this line of teasing had been. “I assume it backfired?”

She dropped her hands from the top of her head and placed them upon the surface of the counter that separated them. Constantine looked quite pleased with himself, a wide grin plastered across his face. There was no untangling this convoluted web of lies she’d begun to weave.

“You what, it’s interesting. .” He said, his head tipping to the side as he considered her.

Hollis crouched down on the counter, balancing on the balls of her feet and lowered her face until only her eyes were visible above the counter. “What is?” Her voice was small and muffled having been spoken under the counter.

“Because dee last time I confronted you about dis very page you said it was about a White Cloak” the Western man tisked softly and drew in a long breath, “And now it is a spell.”

Constantine usually had such a poor memory for fine details such as these and if she weren’t as anxious as she was she would have been impressed. “Fuuuuuuck”, she said very quietly and drawn out. She’d been had.

“Dee Meddler’s memory isn’t as bad as you thought!” He said with a wide grin and she sat back onto the floor behind the counter.

“Why do you remember this but you can’t remember something someone told you to tell me hours before!?” Hollis popped her head up from behind the counter to shoot her retort but it was no use.

Constantine slapped his palms on the table, rising from his seat, his eyes wide and glinting mischievously as he loomed over her. “What is dee secret of dis page, Hollis Maeby!”

“I wish I had remembered my first lie!” She quipped back at him and sat once more upon the floor. She couldn’t help but be amused despite her anxiety. It was no use, she knew he wouldn’t let this go now that he was so close to a victory, it was time to come clean. “It’s a silly children’s game! In school girls would idly doodle things like this in their notebooks.”

“Alright, how does it work?”

Her eyes narrowed and she placed her hands on either side of her head before muttering the words all together “thenumbersareletters”.

“I see.” He clicked his tongue, his eyes moving to consider the crude math problem. “C plus H.”

Hollis’ eyes fell upon him and she covered her face with both hands. He hadn’t put it together yet, but he would soon. “Decus, take me now.” She muttered the prayer into her hands.

Constantine flipped open the sketch book and scanned the first few pages. Hollis knew what he would find there were several sketches she’d done of him when she’d first arrived. His brow knit together before his features relaxed, she could see the epiphany as it hit him and his green eyes moved from the page to her.

“Constantine plus Hollis”, his expression was softer now and he smiled gently as his eyes traveled across her huddled form.

Hollis pursed her lips together and cringed visibly as he said the words. Slowly she was working her way under the carpentry bench where she prayed Decus would smite her.

“Hollis? Are you ok back there?”

“I’m praying to Decus to make me invisible, is it working?”

“No.”

“Shit.”

There was no hiding it now, it would be better just to face the music and rejection. She glanced up at the man and his expression was pensive with an amused yet sad smile on his face. Hollis cleared her throat and unfurled herself from under the table, getting back to her feet.

The tension in the room was palpable and it made the air feel thick and difficult to breathe. She’d drawn that heart and those numbers months ago, so why did it still feel so raw for him to find out? What was it that she was afraid of? She had already dealt with his passive rejection through inaction and moved past those feelings. Or, perhaps, she had simply buried them and they lingered somewhere under the surface.

“You really don’t need to say anything- That’s an old doodle.” She said awkwardly, using the counter in front of her for balance.

“A lifetime ago, practically.” He replied softly with a nod as he watched her.

“So long ago that we’re practically decrepit now.” She couldn’t help but chuckle despite herself.

Constantine’s hand came up to feel the corners of his eyes insecurely for nonexistent wrinkles before they fell back to the table. The pair simply stared at each other, each taking turns to look away and about the room. The silence was deafening and Hollis was sure a high pitched whine was issuing from some device around them. The longer the science went on the wider her eyes became and the faster her pulse raced.

Why couldn’t he just say something? If he could just formally reject her things could go back to the way they were. Instead they were locked in this phase of inaction and the longer it went on the more she questioned whether she really was over her infatuation with the man before her.

The moments ticked on and she couldn’t take it anymore, “Sweet Decus, Constantine. Just tell me that you’ve never felt the same way about me but it’s very flattering and all so we can move on from this.” She had hoped she’d sound even remotely comical in her delivery, but the words all flowed out harshly as they mixed with her growing panic.

“It is very flattering Hollis.” He started and a lump instantly formed in her throat. “A crush months ago is nothing to be embarrassed about. A lot has happened since then.” His words were even and kind but it was hardly the rejection she needed.

“You’re awful at rejecting people”, She was still trying to find the jovial tone they had bantered in earlier but it was escaping her. Collecting the sketch book she stowed it away in a cabinet behind her, unable to continue to look at it.

“No. I’m just. . Not practiced!” He laughed quietly despite himself, the awkward tension spilling over. “Hardly a rejection- You drew dis months ago. You didn’t even tell me, den.”

She wasn’t sure what made her say it, maybe she felt uncharacteristically brave or perhaps she just needed to know how he felt so she could put this matter to rest finally. “Alright, pretend I drew that yesterday.”

“And den what?”

“Practice your rejections.” Her words were firm as she tried her best to retain eye contact with him.

The pair locked eyes, his brow knitting together and his expression inscruitible. Hollis tried to retain her brave face but her brow betrayed her and a glimpse of the raging squall of anxiety swirling within her could be seen.

Constantine looked down and as if to give his hands something to do he dug in his pocket to look at his watch. His face shifted to one of legitimate surprise as he checked the time,“We should get going.”

Hollis was confused at first before she recalled the trash clean up she’d organized. It had completely slipped her mind and the time had gotten away from her. “Save by the trash clean up” she muttered and collected her things.

Perhaps it was better to leave the past in the past.

Hollis.Maeby
Posts: 76
Character: Hollis Maeby

Re: A Trial by Fire: The Legacy of Hollis Maeby

Post by Hollis.Maeby » October 26th, 2022, 11:40 pm

The Idea Of Letting Go

The clean up efforts for the fort were coming to a close and the once impressive pile of garbage that once sat out front of Quincy’s house and the Meddler’s Risk was no more. The team of several people including Viola, Hanlon, Rikard, Mote and Lucien make short work of the endeavor, even clearing smaller piles from around the area.

The sun hung low in the sky and the group had settled at the Meddler’s Risk while Hollis constructed a trash barrel just outside. She could hear chatter from within the inviting bar but her attention was elsewhere. There were lights on in Quincy’s home and she swore she could see the shadow of someone walking around within.

Hollis hadn’t spoken to Quincy since their interaction at the art show nearly a week ago and she’d be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t been thinking about him. There was such a stark departure between the man she knew and who Quincy said he really was. She found it easier to separate him into two different people, the Quincy she knew who was a dazzling performer and considerate partner and the Other Quincy who lied to her and was responsible for more deaths that he could remember.

The shadow moved across the windows of the house as she watched and she wondered which Quincy resided inside. In many ways she still loved the Quincy that she knew, but the anger and resentment she felt for the Other Quincy often dampened those feelings. It was much easier to live in this bisected lie when she thought of him or was in his company, she didn’t fear her Quincy, but she did the other one.

A commotion from the bar behind her drew her attention away from the house and to the large window of the Meddler’s Risk. Within she could see Drusilla with a shovel in hand and Viola on her feet in a defensive posture. With an obligated sigh she went to see what had happened.

Inside of the Meddler’s Risk the scene didn’t look any better than from the outside looking in. Drusilla’s eyes were large and wild, the shovel gripped in her hand with white knuckles. Viola was backing away from the woman, her face locked in panic as she tried to explain.

“It’s not what you think”, Viola said, Constantine now coming from around the bar in an attempt to mitigate the situation.

“I did not know he was going to do dat, Viola. .” Constantine said awkwardly, looking between the women.

She had missed the beginning of this encounter but she was still able to fill in the gaps. Doctor Hanlon had been teasing Lucien and Constantine about Lucien’s matchmaking efforts earlier in the day. Lucien had approached Hanlon, much to Constantine’s horror and attempted to set her up on a blind date with the Western man. From how things were going inside of the Risk it would appear he had also approached Viola.

“What was Lucien’s offer?” Drusilla asked a very tense Viola.
“He asked if I would like to date Constantine. I told him no.” Viola looked shocked and perhaps on the verge of tears as Drusilla interrogated her.

“Yeah? So he’s his to sell, huh? How much, exactly?” Drusilla spoke between her teeth with a clenched jaw while Constantine looked simply mortified.

Hollis watched with wide eyes at the thin doctor gesticulated wildly with her shovel and wondered if Drusilla would strike the smaller woman with it. Atticus followed Hollis in and came to a halt when faced with the scene. The expressions of everyone around the bar were of shock and concern but Hollis wasn’t at all surprised by the doctor’s behavior.

In an effort to diffuse the situation Hollis tried more than once to get people outside to see the new trash can, but her words fell on deaf ears. Constantine rubbed his face looking mortified. His eyes darted and pleaded for someone to get him out of his own bar.

“Is dis what meddling feels like from dee other side?” Constantine said quietly to himself, shaking his head.

“Drusilla, how about we go clean up the refugee camp”, Mote offered gently to the distressed Doctor who accepted her offer.

Everyone save for Lucien and Viola went with Mote to the refugee camp and as he followed the rest out the door, Constantine had leaned close and asked Hollis to take over the bar for the time being. She begrudgingly accepted and did her best to talk down a flustered Viola.

From the bar she could easily see out of the large glass window to Quincy’s house, a sight that easily distracted her from serving the sparse patrons that remained. Thirty minutes passed and Constantine still hadn’t returned to his post behind the bar. Hollis’ patience had grown thin, so before leaving she placed a few half full bottles upon the bar and wished those remaining a good evening.

Perhaps it had been all of the staring at the house that caused her feet to take her to the front of Quincy’s house and knock on the door. Hollis wasn’t sure what she planned to say, but she wanted to talk to him. From inside of the house she could hear the shuffling of feet but no one came to the door.

After a moment Hollis knocked again and with the familiar click of the door unlocking she and Quincy were standing face to face. He seemed surprised to see her but still motioned for her to enter. She looked inside of the house to the familiar table, chairs and paintings she had filled it with months earlier.

“I was actually hoping we could go for a walk, you owe me a conversation as part of the cost of the vase” Hollis smiled and tried to keep her tone light. Quincy had asked to buy a vase she’d displayed during the art show and as part of that she requested a conversation.

Quincy put his hands in his pockets, he seemed apprehensive but still nodded in agreement. “I’ll follow your lead” He said as he locked the door behind him and pocketed the keys.

He followed her through the paths of the fort and the two chatted idly about the fort clean up, he was glad to have the pile in front of his home gone. Hollis led him out of the fort and just outside of the merchant lane to her new workshop.

“I hardly come out here”, He remarked as he followed her to the front of the building. Quincy looked up at the workshop, his brow furrowed. “What is it? A new Foundry initiative?” He scratched his head as he considered.

Hollis chuckled amusedly and unlocked the door to welcome him in.

“This is yours?” His eyes were large as he followed Hollis inside. “By everything that’s holy, Miranda! How? Did you come into some small fortune?” He looked around the workshop in amazement.

“Constantine helped me collect the needed supplies, after that it was just a matter of building it.”

“There’s nothing you can’t do here, and it looks like you, Miranda. You’re so versatile.” Quincy said as he popped his head into the back right room and noticed the bed. “Oh, you’re moving to this place, then?”

Hollis shook her head “I’m not, I just need a place to sleep if I work too late. Not that I sleep more than an hour or so at a time these days.”

“Really? That little?” Quincy considered her with a slight frown, “So the medication failed you, then?”

“I ran out of it.” Quincy was meaning the sedatives he’d obtained for her from Doctor Sindelar when he pretended to be the one having restless nights.

“Oh, you could have told me.”

“It’s fine” She said, raising a hand dismissively, “I think I’d rather wake up than stay in the dreams I have.”

Quincy opened his mouth as if to say something, but decided against it and instead simply stated, “I understand.”

The main room of the workshop had a carpentry bench centered against the wall and counters that ran its length in the front to create what almost looked like a bar. Hollis had arranged benches in front for when she had guests and this is where she invited Quincy to sit while she leaned against her carpentry workbench across from him.

“I didn’t just ask you here to see my workshop, though this place is a great comfort for me.” She said as she picked out a hunk of wood and a carving knife. “If I wake up and I can’t sleep I can come here. Doing things with my hands silences my mind.”

Quincy watched her curiously, raising his glance from her hands to her face, “I’m glad it’s very close to safety”.

“I’ve been thinking a great deal about the conversation we had and I have some questions about it, but I also have my own lies to confess to you.” Hollis had begun to whittle away at the block of wood, carving it down to a smoother shape.

“I see but, you owe me nothing, Miranda. I’m glad to answer your questions, however.”

“Life isn’t about what we owe each other.” Hollis looked up to meet his eye before continuing her story.

Hollis told him about how she’d first come through the Rumbling Pass and decided she wanted a new start. She’d told those she’d met that she came from humble means and that her family had worked for what they had. That had, however, been a lie. Hollis came from a prelacy family, a sept of the Harcrow Parish.

Her mother had taken her father’s name when they married so it was easier to get by pretending she wasn’t some poor rich girl cut off from her family’s money. If Hollis had more foresight she would have changed her name as well.

Quincy listened quietly, if he were bothered by this information Hollis had no way of telling, his face was placid and masked any ill thoughts he may have had. After a moment Hollis asked him her first question.

“Why did you take to that life? What hardship did you face that caused you to take that path?”, Her knife stayed pressed to the wood, frozen half way through a cut.

“I will tell you, but, first, I want to know why you’re interested in this? Nothing I say will ever redeem what I disclosed at that terrible courtyard. In fact, it might even make it worse.”

“Because I need to know. Because I frequently dream about you and the holes in the story my mind fills in might be worse than the truth.”

Quincy’s eyes fluttered to a close and when they opened they were cast down away from her. In a small voice he said, “Very well” and began his story.

Quincy had been raised the only child of a prelacy family and had left when his mother eloped with another man, leaving him with his father. His relationship with his father was rocky at best and when he abandoned his old life in his teens he’d found comradery and acceptance with the group of thieves he’d told her about.

Quincy paused his story and considered Hollis and her earlier confession, “So I can assume you’re much higher educated than you first gave off when we met, and can probably write even better than I do.”

“Oh no, that second part is not true at all, I have awful penmanship.”

He folded his hands together on top of the table, his countenance bitter. “Either way, it hardly matters now.” Quincy managed a smile, but Hollis could tell he wasn’t at all amused.

“I can do. .” She motioned around them at the various stations, “All that I can do because of my privilege. Because my father would pay for lessons in whatever struck me to keep me from getting underfoot while he focused on my brothers.”

“Then you were quite fickle in your youth, but I’m glad you managed to retain so much from your tutors.”

“I wasn’t fickle, I was looking for something that would make him proud, something that would make him notice me.”

Quincy took a moment and nodded slowly, she could see his face slowly relax and assume the neutral stance he had maintained through their horrific conversation some weeks back. She couldn’t help but recoil uncomfortably.

“Please don’t do that.” She said in a small voice and shook her head.

“Do what?” He leaned back from her.

“Extract the emotion from your face, words and actions.” Hollis was perhaps more harsh than she needed to be, but his sudden slip into the Other Quincy gave her chills and made her palms clammy.

“Oh” He looked down and away from her, “I just remembered it isn’t my place anymore to pass judgment on anyone. Least of all you.”

“Be upset with me if you feel compelled to. But you become the Other Quincy when you do that. So, please. Don’t.” She could barely hold eye contact with him as she spoke. She could see the divide, the line where he split from her Quincy to the other one and she hated what she saw.

“I’m not upset, I don’t have the right to. Just. .” He trailed off looking away, she could see the curiosity in his face at the mention of the “Other Quincy”, but he chose not to remark on it. “I won’t employ any techniques to make this more palatable, then.”

Hollis tried to give him an appreciative smile and returned to her whittling. She found it easier to have difficult conversations when she had something to work on. There was something cathartic and comforting about building something while distressed as if she were pouring her stress and anxiety into the work.

“I am surprised that you’ve lent your ears to so much when you were obviously well versed in so many things I wasn’t even aware of.” Quincy looked up at her and their eyes met for the briefest of moments, “But I’m the last to reprimand anyone for keeping things to themselves”.

She chuckled, a noise that was more air than actual laugh. “I’m the least polished of four children, some of it wasn’t feigned.”

“I will say I’m glad you came from a good family, even if just financially. It does bring me comfort.”

“Why?”

“Because your life could have been worse.” Quincy sighed softly.

“At the end of the day I was still abandoned here to save them embarrassment. I could have been sent to Redholmn just as easily.” Hollis spit the words bitterly, the resentment for her father obvious.

“Indeed, but you had good meals on your table and never lacked shelter, even if due to a good family name.”

Hollis knew he was right even if she wanted to argue. Her life hadn’t been easy, but it hadn’t been hard either. She’d never had to worry about where her next meal would come from or how she’d shelter or clothe herself. Her basic necessities had always been taken care of, it was simply her spirit that had been neglected and left to starve.

Quincy continued his story, telling Hollis how he had done all he could to distance himself from his father and the family name. His life had been difficult until he’d found his place willingly and eagerly with the group of thieves. Quincy was pointed in making it clear that he hadn’t done this to survive, but simply because he felt like he belonged. Hollis could commiserate with that feeling in many ways.

“How old were you when you killed someone for the first time?” She tried to make the words sound casual as she put the knife down and picked up a scorp to hollow out the center.

“Barely twenty, if memory serves me. It was an accident, I was never meant to kill him.” The corner of Quincy’s mouth pulled into a wistful smile as he recalled.

“What happened?”

“Everything else was a consequence of that one slip” He sat forward and rubbed the back of his neck. “There is a difference between brandishing a crossbow to someone’s head to make it seem like you mean business and another thing to actually pull the trigger by mistake with nervous, green fingers.”

Hollis considered him, brushing wood curls and saw dust from her work. This was the mixture of the two that made her the most uncomfortable. She could call upon cognitive dissonance to separate him into two people, but there were times that wasn’t possible.

“He was tall, very broad shouldered Athaerian with very little to fear from a couple of street boys. So we kept raising the stakes when he wouldn’t back down and at some point there was that awful click.” Quincy’s gaze was distant as he recalled, his words near monotone.

“So once the floodgates opened it was hard to stop?”

“No, it was something else.”

“Why did you stop?” She tried to make her tone friendly, but she wasn’t sure if she was succeeding.

“Because I was afraid. Not about getting caught, mind you. It was the fear of eventually deeming it normal, as something that just happens, sometimes.” He looked up at her, his eyes pleading. “I didn’t want to become that man, Miranda.”

Hollis’ eyes traced his features slowly and she nodded, “You didn’t want to lose your soul to it.”

He then told her about a woman within the group who had lured him in, pushed him to continue and encouraged him by wrapping him around her finger. He told Hollis how she had kept his attention with sweet lies but the weight of it eventually was too much for his shoulders to bear.

He then told her of another woman, the daughter of a mark of theirs who he had gotten close to during the course of their long con. She had taught him to paint and showed him gentle kindness. He couldn’t go through with the plot or return after feeling the warmth she brought to his life.

“There is also a long story about the troupe I got together with after, as they had a spot for a musician. But it is long and not so interesting. I’m old, Miranda.” He smiled faintly to her and she chuckled softly.

Hollis reached over and took a piece of paper, folding it like a fan before attaching it to the small mast she’d made. Leaning forward she set the small sail boat she’d been working on through their conversation down and Quincy’s attention drew to it.

“So that’s what it is. I envy you, regardless of what happens you just won’t stop. I wish I had your endurance.” He slowly raised his glance from the toy boat back to her.

Hollis smiled bitterly over at him, her eyes moving away uncomfortably, “I keep going because I have to. I’ve stopped before and it wasn’t pretty.”

“You did?” He considered her carefully, “When was this?”

“A few years ago. Maybe three now?” She pursed her lips together, her eyes falling on her left thigh knowing the damage she’d done to herself would be found there.

“We don’t have to go into that, if you don’t want to.”

Hollis shrugged, she had always intended to tell him one day, she just figured it would have happened more organically. Reaching down she hiked up her kilt and isolated her left thigh, showing the series of meticulous silver scars, each in perfect line with the next and each the same length. The scars started high on her hip and stopped mid way through her thigh. Hollis was organized about many things, including her self destruction.

Quincy furrowed his brow, leaning closer over the counter. Hollis could see the moment the pieces fit together and his eyes moved up painfully to meet hers. “Miranda. .” He managed to say just above a whisper.

“As I told you before, Quincy, you wouldn’t call me strong if you could see the scars.” She tossed the fabric back down, covering her leg once more.

“Why do you punish yourself? None of it is your fault.”

“It never feels that way” Hollis wrapped her arms around her chest tightly, “These are old, but it’s no different than the drinking, or finger picking or chewing my lips.”

Quincy rubbed his neck lightly, “I’m really glad you turn your attention to wood, or iron and let this energy out. I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“I meant to tell you, I figured you’d see them eventually.” Hollis chewed on the inside of her mouth and looked over at Quincy, her expression a mixture of shame and sorrow.

“Please don’t look at me like that, unlike me, you have nothing to be ashamed about.” Quincy held a hand up to stop her but the words couldn’t be contained.

“I’m responsible for exposing half a dozen people to torment and that is just one blip across the sea of poor choices and carelessness. I am not here because I was the good child.” Her words grew louder as she spoke until she was near shouting, not at Quincy but at herself. She drew in a deep breath and held either side of her head.

“Don’t do that. You said it yourself that we all have regrets to bear. Anybody could have done that exact same thing.”


“I have historically had poor luck.” She retorted in a snap, barely holding it together.

“You weren’t your regular self and you know who shares quite a bit of the responsibility.” Quincy grew quiet as he made himself complicit in her blame.

Hollis offered him a smile, an expression that didn’t meet her eyes. “You aren’t responsible for how I chose to self medicate, Quincy.”

“Maybe I am if all I bring to the table is grief.” He shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly.

“But that’s the thing Quincy, you didn’t only bring grief.” Hollis moved closer to the counter and placed her hands down on the surface of it, her gaze trying to meet his.

“Oh, please don’t.” He raised a hand sadly to her and Hollis leaned back taking her hands off of the counter. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?”

“If I’m allowed to ask for anything, please, don’t go there. It is hard enough to face you telling all of the ugly truths. I’d prefer to leave the rest unspoken.” He paused, his brow knitting together and the pain in his eyes evident. “I’m grateful we had this conversation.”

Hollis stood back and watched him in shock. It was the courtyard all over again. After their first heart wrenching conversation she’d tried to hug him and he’d flinched away from her as though his sins would transfer to her by proximity. Now he was squelching her attempt to engage him through praise, there was no winning.

Quincy was on his feet now, “Oh and Congratulations!” He said loudly and motioned around.

She flinched at his words, as they drew her back to the conversation and away from her thoughts. Quincy was looking at his painting she’d hung on the wall.

“Your walls are a little bare though.” His eyes moved away from the painting back to her and Hollis spotted the ruby bracelet she made him on his wrist.

He followed her gaze to it with a soft smile. “Yes, it’s the same one. I can’t seem to take it off.”

“I’m glad you have it.”

“I’d thought about returning it to you, but I couldn’t.” He mentioned sheepishly. “It’s like a promise of greener pastures and that lovely diner we shared.”

“I understand.” She smiled softly remembering the matching bracelet she had made out of the ruby he’d given her that had belonged to his mother. She too had thought about giving it back to him, but she couldn’t part with it.

The pair shared in an uncomfortable silence and Quincy shifted on his feet clearing his throat. Hollis shamelessly stared at him, she didn’t want him to leave with so many things still left unsaid. She cleared her voice trying to will herself to say the words collected on the tip of her tongue.

“I’m sure you’re itching to get back to some of your projects-” Quincy started but was cut off by Hollis.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear it. .” She could feel her heart pounding against her rib cage as she spoke, adrenaline keeping her going. “But I feel like if I don’t say it the weight of it will eventually crush me.”

Quincy watched her silently, his brow knit and his lips slightly parted. Hollis drew in a slow, difficult breath and looked at him. Her eyes fluttered as tears began to fill them and through the blur she could swear she saw the two distinct versions of him.

“I still love you, Quincy, and I’m not sure what to do with that. I’m sure you would have rather I left that on my lips, but. .” She trailed off, unable to finish her thought, her eyes casting to the floor.

For the first time Quincy looked down at his shoes as well and before she could look up he replied, “Miranda. You deserve better.” He shook his head quietly, “I won’t take advantage of that.”

The words were like a dagger through her heart. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but she hadn’t steeled herself against this last rejection.

“I think I should leave.” He said weakly, “Thank you for inviting me to this place.”

Hollis simply nodded, her throat was closing with emotion and she feared saying anything more lest the tears start to freely flow.

Quincy turned and walked to the door, but he paused before exiting. “Oh and Miranda?” He turned to look over his shoulder sadly, “I’ve never been given what you offered me, and I’m so sorry to have squandered it.”

She drew in a sharp breath and pursed her lips together, nodding. Their eyes met and lingered for a moment before he left and closed the door behind her.

Hollis hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until the air escaped her lungs loudly. She drew in a gasp that caught in her throat and began to sob loudly. She had tried to reach out to him and he had rebuffed each of her efforts.

She knew it was her who had ended their relationship, but it had always felt like the reverse. Hollis drew in a long, deep breath and screamed at the top of her lungs, her hand gripping the counter in front of her with white knuckles. She let out her sorrow, her anger and frustration out into the walls of the workshop until she ran out of breath.

Regaining her composure, Hollis took in several long and deep breaths, wiping her face with her hands. She hated the idea of letting go, but she couldn’t continue to hold on to someone who refused to let her touch them. With her eyes closed she did what came as second nature to her; compartmentalize her hurt, anger and rejection to be dealt with another day.

Hollis wiped her face once more and blew out the lanterns around the workshop before going to leave. She closed the door behind her and paused drawing in a final deep breath before locking the door. With her face pointed skyward to admire the clear evening sky Hollis released her held breath and silently made her peace with Quincy. Both of them.

Hollis.Maeby
Posts: 76
Character: Hollis Maeby

Re: A Trial by Fire: The Legacy of Hollis Maeby

Post by Hollis.Maeby » October 28th, 2022, 4:00 pm

Everything Comes Back Around (pt.2)

Hollis wiped her face with her hands as she took the short walk from her workshop back to the fort. She wasn’t sure what her purpose was in returning; perhaps she just didn’t want to be alone. Along the path through the merchant district, right outside of the gates Hollis found Constantine standing with Adam and Lucien.

Her hands raised and ran her fingers under her eyes quickly, drawing in a sharp breath to clear her air passages. She’d hoped no one would notice she’d been crying, but the expression on the Adam’s told her that wish was in vain.

“Are you alright?” Adam asked, his brow raising in either curiosity or concern, she couldn’t tell which.

“Hm?” Hollis tried to sound surprised by his question, a tone that fell flat.

“If I’m not at dee Risk, don’t wait up for me.” Constantine said to Adam and Lucien who nodded in turn.

“Good night you two.” Adam said, his gaze moving between her and Constantine.

Hollis watched Adam and Lucien speak with Caley to arrange horse rentals and once they were gone she turned her attention back to Constantine. “Did I miss something?” She asked Constantine cautiously.

The Western man laughed despite himself and nodded, “So many things.”

She wanted to ask him to elaborate, but she didn’t have the energy. Instead she simply nodded along with the joke she wasn’t privy to.

Constantine watched Adam and Lucien vanish into the evening on horseback and turned his attention back to Hollis with an apologetic smile and simply said, “Hey”.

A small laugh escaped her lips, “Hey, yourself.”

“I’m sorry about earlier.” His comment was vague, and Hollis wondered if he were referring to before the trash clean up or when he asked her to take over the bar for a moment and didn’t return.

“Which earlier?”

“Both? All?” He smiled sheepishly and offered a good-natured shrug.

Hollis couldn’t help but chuckle softly, her arms crossing over her chest, “That clears up a lot.”

“Can we talk?” Constantine asked and smiled gently.

A faint smile played across her face, an expression that didn’t quite match her tense body language. She agreed and motioned around as if to ask where they should go.

“Dee workshop?”

Hollis pursed her lips together before agreeing. She smiled in slight amusement as they walked back to the place she’d just come from. At the very least she wouldn’t be alone.

The pair entered the workshop and Hollis relit the lanterns she had just blown out. Constantine’s eyes drifted to the small wooden ship she had made while talking to Quincy and smiled sadly.

“Dee second time I met Ponz, I gave him a ship like dis one because he told me he missed dee sea.” He sighed, his eyes moving from the boat to rest on her. Constantine took a seat on the benches in front of the woodworking table, just one seat over from where Quincy had set moments earlier.

Constantine had mentioned earlier that his friend Ponz passed away recently. She had only met the man once before and while he was bristly he was a good carpenter and seemed like a good man.

Hollis moved around back to where she’d just come from; behind the counter to stand like a bartender would. She looked down at the ship before drawing her attention back to the man before her, “I just made that while talking with Quincy.”

“Quincy was here?” He leaned forward on his folded arms upon the counter, “How did dat go?”

“Eh”, she responded non-commitally but her facial expression was easy to read; it had gone poorly.

“It couldn’t have gone worse den my run-in earlier. I thought she was going to brain Viola with dat shovel.”

The pair shared a chuckle and Hollis nodded along with Constantine, “I also had my concerns.”

“Well, I didn’t actually think she’d do it. She’s not a monster. But it certainly looked dat way.” Constantine added a little awkwardly.

“Crimes of passion are called that for a reason.” She tried to make a joke, but she wasn’t sure if it would land. Constantine was still defending Drusilla despite her rejection of him. In some ways she respected that.

“She wouldn’t have done it. .”

“I know.”

An awkward silence filled the air and Hollis leaned back, lifting herself onto the woodworking table to sit, her leg extending out to balance herself against the counter in front of her.

Constantine smiled sheepishly, his eyes falling to rest on the workbench, “I’m sorry about earlier- When we were here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of Constantine picking on her while she tried to hide under the workbench. “It’s fine.” She said initially, trying to wave it off before narrowing her eyes. “Wait, which part? The teasing is pretty par for the course for our interactions.”

“It was a bit beyond dee norm, even for us”, he grimaced looking up at her.

“I’m not offended, we can look back on it and laugh. Though, I for sure thought you knew I had feelings for you.”

Constantine drew in a deep breath, his eyes moving back to the workbench. “Drusilla had told me, but there’s a difference between hearing and seeing.” His eyes moved up trying to meet hers and he smiled weakly when they did.

“I’d asked her not to say anything, so I figured she had.” Hollis laughed but the tone was bitter.

“She read see signs dat I didn’t, probably before you even told her.” He swallowed, his eyes casting aside a moment before flicking back to gauge her expression carefully. “It didn’t feel like we were talking about dee past.”

Hollis shrugged, and shifted uncomfortably. She wasn’t what the purpose of his comment was when she knew her second rejection of the evening was coming. “It doesn’t matter one way or the other, it’s still the same outcome."

Constantine’s expression fell as he drew in a deep breath, “There’s nothing I could have said dat would have been fair to you.”

Hollis furrowed her brow, “I don’t understand.” It was unusual for Constantine to pull punches with her and she was growing anxious by his vague nature. “You don’t need to mince words with me Constantine.”

“I know, Hollis.”

“It’s fine, just say what you need to.” She tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but it was obviously mixed with tension.

Constantine looked conflicted and sighed before he spoke, “My choices were dat I could lie to you and tell you I feel nothing, or dat I could tell you dee truth and we could linger in dee chaotic mess dat left us in.”

She leaned forward and tried to understand his meaning. Her brow furrowed and her eyes squinted as she listened. He couldn’t mean what she thought he did. “What is the truth, then?” She asked cautiously.

He let his breath out slowly, a hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Dat Djemidor is neither a fool, nor blind.” He held his hands palm-up helplessly.

Djemidor, was a charming man from the East that they had befriended. He had twice now asked Hollis and Constantine if there was something romantic going on between them. The first time was in Constantine’s apartment as he recovered, at that time they both had laughed it off and neither answered. The second time he asked, Hollis had waited for Constantine’s reply, and he denied their involvement awkwardly.

Hollis stared forward at him, her mouth slightly ajar. This is what she had hoped to hear months ago before she’d put those feelings to rest, and now that she was hearing them she could barely process what she was hearing. What incredibly poor timing.

She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t find the words. Hollis leaned back, forgetting that the counter had hanging cabinets above it. Her head collided against the cabinet with a thud and she crumpled down to clear it.

Constantine cringed as he watched her, “Are you alright?”

“Yup”, she said in a small voice, her hand rubbing the back of her head and the other giving an awkward thumbs up. Slowly she sat back up, careful to make sure she cleared the cabinet this time, “I- wasn’t prepared for that answer.”

He placed the torn paper from her sketchbook down onto the counter and motioned to it, “I didn’t feel anything, den, when you wrote dis.” His words were gentle and his smile perhaps sad when he looked back up to her.

“I know.” Hollis replied in a small voice, looking down at the scrap of paper.

“You have been more den I have deserved, and a better friend den I have known.” He looked at her, his expression sad, sincere and apprehensive. “I’m afraid I’m worse at dis den at rejections.” He cracked a hesitant smile, his hands wringing together.

She looked from the paper to his face, her eyes alternating between his left and right. Her pulse quickened as he spoke, barely able to believe what she was hearing. “I- I had a speech prepared for the rejection, but not this.” She leaned back, careful of the cabinet this time.

Constantine nodded to her and Hollis took a moment to take a personal inventory. They had been spending more time together and their bantering and teasing had come so naturally. Looking back with things now in focus it should have been obvious to her that what they’d been doing was flirting.

Hollis drew in a breath and closed her eyes. There were reasons not to open this box, it would make things messy and complicated. But she couldn’t bring herself to bury it again. She looked down at the childish drawing and motioned to it.

“You’re not wrong though, I didn’t mean it entirely as past-tense.” She spoke slowly, her eyes fixed on the note. “I was hoping I could get you to let me down nicely, even if it was through the guise of practice.” Hollis glanced up at him for a brief moment before looking away uncomfortably.

Constantine smiled sadly over at her, nodding before saying, “I know.”

The silence fell around them again and the pair sat across from one another in quiet contemplation. Hollis was hesitant to say anything more, the air around them felt delicate, like something that shouldn’t be disturbed lest it be scared away.

“I’m not often at a loss for words.” She finally said softly with an airy laugh.

He smiled, nodding in agreement, “I should have come knowing what I was going to say. My mind is a whirlwind and dee words I snatch from it fail to hold dee meaning I wish to convey.”

“Well, that’s what happens when we have perfectly innocent run-ins on the street”, Hollis referenced an old joke between them in an effort to ease some of the tension building.

A sigh came from the man and he tipped his head back in frustration, seeming to have just remembered something, “You were crying.”

“But I’m not now.” She brought her hands palm up and smiled gently.

“Thank Decus for that.”

“See? This could be going worse.”

Constantine chuckled, “Dat’s a high bar you’re setting.”

Hollis watched him for a while, her eyes tracing over his features as if trying to memorizing them. “When did this start?” She asked him quietly like one would a secret.

“It’s hard to say when I started missing your absences more keenly.” His expression was pensive and his eyes pulled up in thought. “I think I began to realize it around dee events at dee camp.” His gaze moved back to her, his face somber now.

Instinctively Hollis’ right hand moved to grasp the bandage around her left forearm, her eyes growing wide at the memory. Constantine’s neck was still bandaged and healing from the attack. “I owe my life to you for that.” She said, her words barely above a whisper; she still felt so much shame for her involvement.

“You don’t owe me anything.” He tried to correct her, his expression pleading.

“When I got them off of me and I could run, I kept thinking ‘Just get back to Constantine’. It feels selfish now, but I had this idea that if I could make it back to you I’d be fine.” Her voice was low and solemn as she recalled the attack at the templar camp.

Constantine smiled bitterly and nodded a few times, “I’m glad I made you feel dat way.”

“Well,” she said, wrapping her arms around her knees, “My battle strategy has always been to hide behind you.”

He nodded a thoughtful expression on his face, “Yes, I suppose you have.”

There was a pause in the conversation and Hollis looked aside, “Well. .”

“Well. .” He echoed back.

“What do we do now?” She asked hesitantly and scratched her temple.

“Dat is dee question, isn’t it.” He trailed off as she stood from the bench, moving to lean against the end of it with folded arms.

Hollis considered the tall man with a tentative look. She needed to know definitively if she still harbored feelings for him and while words were all good and well, there was little that could be masked by physical touch. Hesitantly she slid off of the workbench and stepped closer to him, she hadn’t noticed how just much taller he was than her until now.

Slowly, she held her hand out as if asking for his. Constantine’s brow furrowed with amused confusion and held his hand out for her to take. Hollis took his hand in hers and turned it over, examining his calluses and the shallow valleys the creases made across the skin. After a moment she laced her fingers through his and felt his hand grip securely but gently around hers.

Her eyes closed and she drew in a deep breath before exhaling heavily. She could feel the current between them, like static electricity before it breaks and creates a shock. Slowly she opened her eyes and found Constantine looking back at her with a soft smile. She couldn’t help but laugh to dispel some of the anxious energy that was building. It was evident to her now that her feelings for the man hadn’t faded, but had simply been swept up and hidden away like so many other things she didn’t want to face.

After a moment, Constantine sighed and pulled his attention from her and looked over at the door, his brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth pulling down into a slight frown.

“Is everything alright?” Hollis asked him uncertainty.

“I’m not sure.” He turned back and met her eyes with his, giving her hand a gentle reassuring squeeze. “What faces us out there– I’m not sure if dee lie would have been kinder.”

Hollis pursed her lips and remembered Drustilla, white knuckled and brandishing the shovel at Viola for simply being asked by Lucien to go on a date with Constantine. There was also Quincy who had been in this very room less than two hours ago. The timing could have been better, but after the attack at the Templar Camp Hollis understood now more than ever that tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed.

“Whatever worry lies beyond can wait, surely.” Constantine said as she ran her thumb over the top of his hand.

She nodded tensely before adding with a laugh, “There’s always tomorrow for worry.”

He cracked a smile at that, his eyes shifting up thoughtfully. “Earlier, when you spoke of being unable to sleep? If I set up a bedroll out here do you think you’d sleep more soundly?”

She considered his question, her lips pursing together. It would be nice to have someone to ground her when she woke up in a panicked start. She often awoke confused and unable to separate reality from the threats of her dreams.

“Maybe?” She said, still thinking, “But I think you’re going to have a hard time sleeping.”

Constantine squinted at her, taking on his usual teasing countenance. It took Hollis a moment to understand the double meaning in her words and she gave the man a flat look. It was cheeky, even for him.

“I meant because of the night terrors” She shook her head and wagged a finger at him, tutting softly.

He couldn’t help but laugh. “We could try it and see if it makes a difference. Dis floor isn’t half as splintered or we as I’m used to– and it’s not even leaning to and fro.”

Hollis smirked and Constantine gently released her hand to find a bedroll. Fortunately she had a few made earlier in the day, so setting up a place for him took little effort. Constantine made his bed just outside of the alchemy room where the spare bed resided. Hollis gave him her pillow from her bed and a jacket Constantine had worked as a makeshift blanket.

Once Constantine was situated on the bedroll he removed his shoes while Hollis stood over him, obvious concern across her face.

“Stop fretting over me. I’ve slept much rougher and been far less prepared.” He said with a smirk.

“Fine! Fine!’ She signed resignedly and paused to run her fingers through the man’s hair affectionately, he closed his eyes with a smile at her touch. “I’ll see you in a few hours when I wake up, I’m sorry in advance!” She called from the room.

“I’ll be here!” He called back.

Hollis tried to settle enough to sleep, her mind whirling from the long day and the ups and downs from her social interactions. She was trying not to get ahead of herself as her mind began to try to dissect Constantine’s words and sort through Quincy’s. She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. There would hopefully be time to sort everything out later.
════ ⋆★⋆ ════


“Hollis.”

She felt something press against her and she swung. She was inside of a small room, her back pressed against a flimsy door that was about to give way, it was the only thing keeping the dozens of afflicted at bay. Hollis was swiftly losing this battle. A board broke below her and grasping hands came through, digging their nails into her flesh and trying to pull her through. She screamed in terror and stomped her feet trying to get free.

“Hollis!”

Something shook her and her eyes shot open, wide and unseeing in the dark. She took another blind swing, a blow that was gently deflected.

“Hollis, it’s Constantine, you’re having a nightmare.” He held her wrist to keep her from trying to strike him again.

She regained her senses and remembered that the western man had stayed over on the floor. “I-I’m so sorry.” Her throat was dry and her heart was still beating against her ribs.

“It’s alright.”

The room around her came into focus and he released her wrist and went back to his bedroll just outside of the room. Hollis tried to find peace again, but every time she closed her eyes she saw the ragged flesh of the afflicted. After some tossing and turning she pulled her pillow and blanket off of the bed and joined Constantine on the floor.

He said nothing and silently scooted over on the mat to make room for her. Hollis accepted the gesture and curled up trying to take as little space as she could. She drifted back to sleep with a silent mind, rest coming easier to her than it had in weeks.

Hollis.Maeby
Posts: 76
Character: Hollis Maeby

Re: A Trial by Fire: The Legacy of Hollis Maeby

Post by Hollis.Maeby » October 29th, 2022, 10:58 pm

The Value of Peace

What had started as an average day in Fort Praesidium had quickly turned into one of the most pleasant Hollis had experienced all year. A chance encounter with a newcomer to the fort by the name of Oar Oak, turned into a group field trip. The destination was a hidden beach in the South found only through a tunnel system. Sure, the beach was probably being used for some illicit reason, such as smuggling, but why let that ruin a pleasant day?

Hollis had taken her boots off to sit in the sand just out of reach of the lazy rolling waves. Lucien was skinny dipping just off shore and she kept her eyes conveniently to the right to avoid any unintended sightings. Behind her, Mote and Knives bantered while walking in the surf and in the distance Constantine sat on a fallen log around a fire where he cooked meat they’d gathered on their way.

Theo Hanlon walked barefoot in the sand approaching Constantine to watch him cook and their new friend Oar splashed offshore somewhere near Lucien. This was the second time Hollis had been to this beach in as many days, but the time before had been far less pleasant. They’d come with Drusilla to dig out a cave-in she’d suspected someone may have been trapped in, though they had found no such victim. She pushed the memory from her mind. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it didn’t need to occupy her thoughts.

The sun hung low in the western sky, sinking slowly behind the water as though being swallowed by it. Hollis leaned back on her hands, her head rolling over to rest on her shoulder. She could hear the chatter of Mote and Knives in the distance and the shrill laugh of Oar who had been splashed by Lucien. Hollis could hear the fire crackle and she closed her eyes to drink it all in. Moments like these were precious and she wanted to savor it.

The rustling of brush and the snapping of twigs told her others had arrived. From behind the tall tropical flora Adam and Avi appeared. Behind her she could hear them tell their story of following their trail to the cave, and Constantine giving them a warm greeting. Her shoulders had tensed at the sound of their arrival, assuming something had finally come to ruin this tranquil evening. Luck had for once been on her side and she once more relaxed and turned her attention back to the water as everyone settled.

Night was coming fast and without the warm rays of the sun the water caught a quick chill. Lucien and Oar left the water begrudgingly and settled around the fire pit leaving Hollis alone on the shoreline. She turned and looked at the group, their backs cast in silhouette or their faces bright with the fire’s glow. It was a rare glimpse of a simpler existence, a view of what their lives could be if not for everything that hung over them.

“Food is ready.” Hollis heard Constantine call out in her direction. She got to her feet and collected her boots, taking them with her closer to the fire. A seat was open next to Constantine on the fallen log, a place she took more than willingly. The western man cast a fond smile her way and directed her towards a bag that held bottles of Meddler brand cider.

“You really do come prepared, don’t you?” Hollis said teasingly over at Constantine who simply replied with a casual, but obviously flattered shrug.

She smiled as she considered him, the light from the fire dancing across his face. It had been almost a week since he’d started staying over, first sleeping on a mat outside of her room, then on the floor inside of it and eventually they began to share the small bed. It was a tight fit and the pair had to sleep tangled around one another, though neither of them minded. This arrangement had swiftly become the only way Hollis could sleep peacefully, unburdened by her nightmares.

Hollis pulled her eyes away, realizing she’d been staring for longer than was socially acceptable. They hadn’t discussed anything more since the conversation at the warehouse and had instead chosen to tread in the nebulous space somewhere between close friends and romantic partners. Typically she didn’t mind and even found it quite comfortable. But then there were the awkward public moments when she wanted nothing more than to affectionately push a wild lock of hair from his face, but instead found herself anxiously wondering if it would be appropriate.

Constantine passed her a plate with an assortment of meats and held out a fork for her to take. He really had thought of everything and on such short notice even. The chatter of the group turned into a dull buzz as the meal was shared and she drew the cool night air into her lungs.

She felt Constantine lean into her, bumping her shoulder with his and jostling her to the side. She chuckled and caught his eye out of the corner of hers, leaning back against him leaving no space between them. The subtle act of affection silenced her mind, pushing the last of her worries aside.

Behind them Mote and Knives took hold of each other’s hands and began to slow dance together in the sand, swaying and twirling to a rhythm found only in their minds. Hollis watched the pair over her shoulder, a soft smile playing across her face. It really was one of the perfect moments that life so rarely offered.

If Hollis could offer any foresight to this day, she might have recognized it as the calm before the storm.

Hollis.Maeby
Posts: 76
Character: Hollis Maeby

Re: A Trial by Fire: The Legacy of Hollis Maeby

Post by Hollis.Maeby » November 1st, 2022, 4:42 am

I Don’t Want to Live Without You. . . (pt.1)

The day was coming to a close and Hollis and Constantine had settled in at the Meddler’s Risk to decompress. They’d spent the day together accomplishing various goals and collecting resources across the valley, something that had become a routine for them over the last week or more. They had become proverbially attached at the hip and where one was it had begun to be expected even from those around them that the other wasn’t far behind.

Hollis collected a set of dice and a cup from one of the tables behind her and rolled the dice idly, the cubes clattered across the bar to show two ones. Snake eyes, what poor luck. Constantine watched her with an amused smile and collected the dice, rolling them out of his cupped hand. A six and a two, of course.

She reached out and collected the dice in her hand and looked up at the man, “Winner gets to ask the loser a question they have to answer?” she asked with a mischievous grin.

Constantine exhaled heavily, “Those are some stakes.” He paused a moment before nodding, “Alright den.”

“It’s good to play this game with trusted people.” She rolled the dice across the bar, a five and a two, not bad.

Collecting the dice again Constantine rolled again, five and a five. She should have known this was how things would shake out when her first roll had been snake eyes. Accepting her defeat Hollis motioned to him with a hand and the man hummed, bringing his hand to rest on his chin.

“Can I save it for later?”

Hollis narrowed her eyes at the man, “I suppose, you do have an awful memory so this could be to my benefit.”

“I wouldn’t rely on dat.” He replied cheekily.

The pair continued rolling the dice, a game Hollis was losing at. There hadn’t been a single roll she’d won and while the questions Constantine asked weren’t too embarrassing, she did have several she wanted to ask of him. Both of them rolled a six and they were preparing to roll again to break the tie when Mote came through the door.

The small woman tripped over the welcome mat as she stumbled into the bar, drawing both of their attention to her. Her eyes were large and countenance nervous. Mote was usually loud and boisterous, but something seemed to have squelched that energy.

“Perfect timing Mote, I get to ask Hollis any question I want, but I can’t think of another.”

“I keep losing.” Hollis added motioning to the dice.

“Oh.” She said, appearing a bit dazed, her eyes flitting between the pair. “Constantine. I need to speak with you.” Her words were tense as she tried to convey her meaning. “I found a mine near the caves up North.”

“Oh? That is good news.” Constantine replied, setting the dice back in the cup.

Mote had been in their company earlier in the day and had split off from them to search for a place to build a mineshaft for the Parish. She’d been gone perhaps an hour before she came back in the door.

“Constantine.” She said again pleadingly and the man looked up to meet her eyes.

Hollis glanced between them, looking over her shoulder to Constantine before looking back to the door at Mote. The mood in the room had shifted and she could feel the chill in the air settle around them. Constantine moved around the bar and he followed Mote outside so they could have a private conversation.

Collecting the dice in her hand again she rolled them and snake eyes stared back up at her. It was the fifth time she’d rolled snake eyes with these dice that evening. She understood that dice was a game of luck and chance, but five in an evening felt excessive. Hollis drew in a deep breath and glanced across the bar to the open door. What could they be talking about for this long?

After several minutes only Mote returned and took the place behind the bar Constantine usually occupied. She looked less anxious now, but Hollis could still feel the nervous energy through her body language. Turning to look over her shoulder, Hollis watched the door for a beat, expecting Constantine to come back through it, but he never did.

“Where did Constantine go?” The words came from her mouth before she’d even turned back to face the red haired woman.

“I passed on important news to him. So he had to go handle it. It may take him a while, but he should be back.” Mote tried to sound casual, but Hollis wasn’t buying it.

“Should?” She repeated back, her brow furrowing with concern.

“Should, in that he is going to come back. He’s in no danger.” Mote clarified but it didn’t make Hollis feel any better.

It was clear to Hollis that Mote wouldn’t give her any more information even if she tried to pry it from her, so she let it go and resigned herself to pester Constantine about it when he returned.

“Here,” she said, passing the dice to Mote. “Give these a try.”

The two women picked up the question game where she and Constantine had left off. Hollis was still having poor luck and lost the first roll.

“So I get to ask a question?” Mote clarified, having rolled a seven to her four.

“That’s how the game works, like truth or dare with no dares.”

Mote nodded in understanding and the game continued, going back and forth for the next thirty minutes or longer. Hollis’ eyes flitted to look out of the window often, checking for any sign of Constantine returning. As the minutes ticked on, the lump in her throat grew heavier and Hollis found it difficult to focus on the game. Where had Mote sent him that would take this long to return from?

Hollis rolled the dice and came up with a seven, her arms shooting up in an early victory only to be squashed by Mote’s twelve. She scowled down at the dice that had consistently betrayed her. Hollis needed to find another game, dice clearly weren’t for her.

Mote’s eyes lingered on the dice and she looked up at Hollis with her eyes only, her head still bowed. In a smaller voice than was unusual for the boisterous woman she said, “I’m going to ask a favor instead of a question.” Her eyes moved to glance outside of the window before landing back on Hollis, “Don’t be mad with me.”

Her brow furrowed as she listened to the woman and she repeated, “Don’t be mad at you? I don’t understand.”

Before Mote could answer, Hollis heard the steps behind her of someone entering the establishment. She half turned in her stool and saw Constantine standing just inside of the door dressed in his maroon robes and removing his intimidating bone helmet.

“Constantine, perfect timing”, Mote said and moved out from behind the bar.

The tall man shifted his gaze between the two women, his eyes falling upon Hollis with a hesitant look. She couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were red and his face was flushed.

“Hollis, can you come with me for a moment?” He asked in an even voice, but Hollis could feel the tension in the room heavy upon her shoulders.

“Sure. .” She said and followed him out of the bar. Whatever he had to tell her it was serious.

Constantine and Mote lead and Hollis walked behind them, her arms folded across her chest. The group left the fort and trekked into the forest a ways, something Hollis knew was done for the hope of privacy. She didn’t know what was coming, but she knew it wasn’t good. Her usually over active imagination was quiet, unable to settle on what horrific event could have transpired.

The trio stopped and Constantine stood before her just out of arm’s reach. Hollis focused on Constantine who’s head was bowed as he searched for the words. Out of the corner of her eye she could see an anxious Mote several paces behind him to his left.

“Hollis, there’s been an accident.” He said slowly, struggling to find the words.

“Ok.” She replied in a small voice, her eyes flitting between the two.

Constantine cleared his throat, he was clearly very hesitant to deliver the information, “Perhaps you should sit down.”

Her anxiety was dangerously close to spilling over and it was evident in her words, “I’m fine, just tell me what is going on.” She gestured widely to him with both hands.

“Quincy. .” Constantine finally managed to say.

Hollis’ eyes closed, and the world flipped on its side making her feel dizzy and nauseated. She didn’t need him to finish his words, she already knew what came next. There were few topics that required a conversation out of ear shot of others.

Hollis tried to draw in a breath, but the air caught in her throat, “How did he die, Constantine?”

“There was an accident.” Constantine finally continued, his brow furrowing and his eyes closing against her words. “He caught a bad bite from a wolf.”

She could hear Constantine but his words sounded distant and distorted. She could feel the grief swell just under the surface and she knew if she gave into it now there’d be no stopping it. She closed her eyes and drew in a ragged breath, tamping down her sorrow and as she did her face grew numb.

Hollis forced herself to look back at Constantine, his eyes were glassy and red and she could tell he’d been crying. Mote had taken her hat off and was fidgeting with it in the background. As she drew her attention to Mote everything clicked into place. She’d been out looking for mine shafts when she came across Quincy’s body and came back to get Constantine’s help in retrieving it.

Mote had been left as a distraction for Hollis while Constantine did this grim task. “Please don’t be mad with me.” Mote’s words echoed in her mind and her eyes came to close slowly. One of the questions Mote had asked Hollis had even been about Quincy, she wanted to know if she would have taken him back. She didn’t even want to think of her answer now.

“I believe the bite nicked dee femoral artery and he succumbed quickly.” Constantine continued to explain how Quincy had met his end, but it didn’t matter to Hollis. All that she needed to know was that he was gone and any chance they might have had to reconcile their differences, to stay in each other’s lives was gone along with him.

“Where is he?” She swallowed dryly.

“I retrieved dee body from dee wolf den where Mote found it and brought it to dee natural amphitheater where Quincy would often sing.”

All she could do was nod, but his reference of Quincy’s body as “it” instead of “him” did not go unnoticed. Hollis wondered if this was a coping tactic for Constantine or if he simply did not regard a body the same without a soul. Of all things, this thought is what caused the tears to begin to flow down her face.

“I thought– Erm, I thought. .” Constantine couldn’t force himself to finish the sentence, but Hollis knew what he meant.

“You thought we could burn him there?” Her words came slow and monotone. She was using all of her energy to keep it together, though the tears steadily streaming down her face betrayed her internalized grief.

“I thought he might like being put to rest in a place he found so much peace.” Constantine added, though he couldn’t bring himself to say the truth; he planned to build Quincy’s pyre there for his last rights.

Constantine’s eyes closed and his arms folded around himself tightly. She could tell he was struggling. He and Quincy always had such a tumultuous relationship and now he had been tasked with the impossible.

Hollis could only stare forward, her eyes glossy and blank, “Someone needs to get Drusilla.”

“I’ll get her”, Constantine volunteered and turned to address Mote over his shoulder, “Mote, can you clean and wrap the body?”

“I will make an effort.” Mote replied honestly, a quality Hollis appreciated in her.

“I’ll go with her” Hollis said, drawing in a deep breath and catching the apprehensive look on Constantine’s face.

“You should, but you shouldn’t look upon him. Not in dat state. He’s in dee building just before dee mountain clearing” Constantine motioned up to the west, but Hollis knew the place. “Will you stay with her, Mote?”

“Yeah, take your time.” Mote drew in a deep breath.

Constantine turned to leave but paused for a moment, digging into his pocket and removing a ruby bracelet Hollis immediately recognized as the one she’d made for Quincy. Gently he passed it over to her and she took it, rolling it over in her hand.

“I’m so sorry, Hollis.” He said just above a whisper before heading back to the fort to find Drusilla.

Hollis’ eyes focused on the bracelet and she could hear her heart beating in her ears. She could disassociate the reality through words, but this made everything real. Quincy hadn’t taken this bracelet off since she’d made it for him. He’d even said that he'd considered giving it back to her when they’d broken up, but he was unable to part with it. The last time she saw him he was still wearing it. Quincy wouldn’t have allowed it to be removed if he were alive.

The sun was setting and Hollis could see the final rays of light as she looked to the west. She knew what awaited her there, she just wasn’t sure if she had the strength to do what was required. Reluctantly she took the first step towards the abandoned mine, her feet felt heavy and her shoulders burdened with the weight of what was to come.

Mote followed after her and the pair walked in solemn silence. How was she supposed to say goodbye to someone who’s loss she had already mourned? Were there even words to express the loss of someone you loved?

Hollis wasn’t sure, but she would soon find out.

Hollis.Maeby
Posts: 76
Character: Hollis Maeby

Re: A Trial by Fire: The Legacy of Hollis Maeby

Post by Hollis.Maeby » November 4th, 2022, 12:19 am

. . .But I Will if I Have to, (pt.2)

The sun had set behind the mountains in the west by the time Hollis and Mote made their way to the abandoned mine Constantine had left Quincy’s body at. There was a small shack and next to it a run down barn. Judging by the ajar door of the shack, that is where they’d find Quincy.

Hollis hesitated just outside of the door and she could see Mote out of the corner of her eye move to stop her. “I want to see him.” She knew Constantine had told her not to, but she needed to lay eyes on him to make this horrific moment real. “I’ll be fine.” She tried to reassure Mote.

The door pushed open easily and there splayed out on the ground was the shape of a man dressed in all green. Despite the tattered nature of his clothing, Hollis could tell that he had been dressed in such a way as to try to conceal his likeness. For what purpose, she couldn’t be sure.

She stepped closer and instantly knew why Constantine had warned her against this very action. Quincy’s clothes weren’t just tattered, so was his skin. There were bite marks across his extremities and flesh torn from bone. If he’d died near a wolf den, it would make sense that they’d try to make an easy meal of him.

Crossing her legs under her, Hollis kneeled down next to him and pushed back the green hood that obscured his face. Constantine must have made an effort to make sure his eyes were closed and thankfully the damage done here was minimal. Hollis noted his auburn roots growing in, a stark contrast between his dyed black hair.

Hollis swallowed dryly and remembered the bracelet she’d made him was still clutched in her hand. She reached out to put it back on his left wrist but hesitated. Constantine had given it back to her, he must have thought Quincy would have wanted her to have it. But would he have? Quincy never took this bracelet off and it felt like he should still be wearing it now.

Conflicted, Hollis pocketed the bracelet, resolved to make a decision on what to do with it later. For now, she wanted to say her goodbyes to a man she had had such a complicated relationship with. Before she could think of what to say Mote entered the building and looked down at the body. She could tell from the lack of surprise on Mote’s face that she had already taken this sight in clearly.

“This is why you asked me about Quincy.” Hollis said, her eyes lingering across the man’s body.

Mote had asked her during the question game she was losing if she would have given Quincy another chance. Hollis thought long and hard on the question, because she would have given her Quincy a dozen chances, but she wouldn’t give the Other Quincy the time of day. She was still unable to reconcile him as both and for that reason she said no.

“No, I think I’d have asked anyway.” Mote said honestly.

Hollis nodded and gently removed Quincy’s backpack. Inside of it she found the purple lilies and tulips, he had very few other things with him. She riffled through the bag, trying to piece together why he had taken a trip that far north. The answers seemed to lie with the flowers, they were freshly cut and Quincy had taken care to make sure they’d still be vibrant when delivered. Had he gone up there to pick flowers? Had I gone up there to pick -her- flowers?

The thought made her feel nauseated and she didn’t understand why he would go through this effort for her. The last time they’d talked he’d rejected her; he didn’t want to be with her anymore. Right? Maybe the flowers had been for someone else? Hollis spiraled, trying to find a logical explanation that didn’t involve her being the recipient, the reason he’d been up there in the first place.

A gentle tug at her arm drew her back to reality and when she looked over her shoulder she saw Mote. “Let's sit outside now. You’ll see him again shortly”. She said gently to Hollis and led her out of the shack to sit on a felled log. Mote returned to the shack and started the grim work of preparing his body for the pyre. She was glad for Mote, she wasn’t sure if she could have done the task herself.

From her vantage point she could see Mote moving around within the shack, but she couldn’t see her exact tasks. Hollis’ leg wiggled as the tension grew. Constantine wasn’t back yet. What if he hadn’t been able to find Drusilla? Should they wait for her so she too could say her farewells? Her mind raced, flitting through thoughts faster than her leg shook.

She couldn’t sit there any longer and they needed wood. Hollis stood and collected a hatchet that had been leaned against the old barn and set out towards the treeline. She hadn’t taken more than ten feet when Mote distended upon her.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell”, the red head said, her eyes large with concern and a massive axe in hand. “You scared the crap out of me.” Mote was taking her job of watching Hollis as dictated by Constantine earnestly.

“I’m sorry I just can’t sit there and we need wood.”

“Constantine said he’d take care of that.” Mote reminded her and begrudgingly Hollis followed her back to the felled trees they used as seats.

Time no longer belonged to a linear plane and instead ticked by slowly one moment and rapidly the next. Hollis couldn't tell just how long they’d been sitting there waiting for Constantine to return with Drusilla.

“Where is he?” She asked out loud, not necessarily to Mote, but being the only person present she replied.

“If Drusilla was close to Quincy, they migh’ be comfortin’ each other.”
Mote was probably right, Hollis knew this wouldn’t be an easy thing for Drusilla to stomach.

“She was.” Hollis said in a small voice, “Quincy loved her.”

Hollis wanted to add to that, she wanted to tell Mote how it was her fault Drusilla hadn’t gotten to spend more time with Quincy and the reason Quincy had struck her from his life not once, but twice was for her benefit. She wanted to lament into the night sky all of her sins and beg that they be burned along with him. But instead she said nothing, she just stared forward into the darkness where she knew the ajar door lied with Quincy’s remains on the other side.

“I’d like to have known him better. He kept inviting me to have tea with him again.” Mote said and looked down at her feet.

“Quincy was a good man with a lot of demons.” Hollis said, her eyes fixed upon the door still. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now. .”

She told Mote the story of Quincy, how he had left his prelacy family to make it on his own and how things had gone awry. Hollis didn’t see the point in hiding these secrets anymore, not because she wanted people to remember Quincy poorly. But because his problems were over, there wasn’t anything else he needed to run from.

Hollis finished her story and in the distance she could hear the rustling of brush and the soft steps of people approaching. Apprehensively Drusilla and Atticus made their way into the clearing flanked by Constantine who was still dressed in his maroon robes sans bone helmet.

Mote nodded to Constantine and motioned towards the door, “He’s wrapped. I did my best.” She said almost mechanically as though it were a task she needed to check off. Knowing some of her stories, Hollis could understand how Mote could be so detached from death.

“Thank you”, he said in response, looking down at his feet.

Drusilla and Atticus were huddled together, Hollis could see Atticus’ eyes come to rest on the open door way before he whispered something she couldn’t hear to Drusilla. Watching the pair it appeared Atticus was trying to talk Drusilla into something. The thin western woman took a few steps back and required Atticus’ urging to continue forward.

Hollis stood and without a word she walked back to the shack and through the door. Mote had wrapped Quincy from head to toe in white fabric, his body bound and ready for the pyre. She was glad she’d gotten to see him before he was wrapped, because this didn’t feel like him.

Drawing in a slow breath, Hollis approached him and kneeled down. The words came out awkwardly and it didn’t feel like she was talking to him even though the words were meant for Quincy.
“You were a good man Quincy, and I appreciated having you in my life even for a short period of time.” She rested a hand on his chest and drew in a ragged breath. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see past your faults. May Decus keep you.”

Hollis lingered for a moment longer, she still had the bracelet in her pocket, but she hadn’t decided if she would let it be burned with him. There was still some time to decide. Other people needed their time with Quincy first.

She came back out to find the four of them in a loose grouping outside of the door. Drusilla looked as though she might fall down at any moment and Atticus followed closely behind her with an arm outstretched to catch her.

“Would dee two of you like a moment with him before?” Constantine asked, his eyes moving between Atticus and Drusilla.

The western woman hesitated and a coughing fit ensued. Atticus winced as he watched her, his face contorting into both concern and sympathy. “Yes, I think it best we should just have a moment first.” He replied apprehensively, his eyes moving over to study a frail Drusilla.

With some convincing, Drusilla and Atticus entered the shack and the other three stood outside. Hollis watched them vanish within and the tears she’d been holding back began to flow. She stood stoically and made no effort to stop her tears, allowing them to flow freely down her face.

A high pitched wail came from within the building and the three of them closed their eyes in silent empathy. Hollis stood to Constantine’s left and Mote just to his right. Hollis’ eyes shifted over to consider the man and without thinking she reached out her hand to take his. She could feel his grip tighten in hers as he flanked slidelong to consider her. Hollis didn’t care who saw them now, she needed the comfort.

“I was going to tell him my real name even if I won.” Mote said in a low voice, referencing the writing contest she had Quincy had entered into with the paper.

“He liked calling you Anastasia.” Hollis said, trying to reassure her.

“He did. But he still wanted to know That’s why. .” Mote gestured vaguely, “The competition.”

Hollis understood, even if the words were lost on Mote’s lips. She’d bonded with Quincy in the way that she knew how to best; gentle bullying. Initially Hollis had refused to even vote in the competition since she had been there when Quincy wrote his. But eventually she flipped a coin and voted for Mote. Why did she feel so guilty about that now?

Atticus and Drusilla exited the building with Atticus helping Drusilla. Constantine’s attention pulled over to the pair and very gently he released Hollis’ hand to procure something from his bag. She watched him and her breath caught in her chest when she saw the torch.

“Will you hold this a moment?” Constantine asked her and involuntarily her hand came out to take the item.

Hollis rolled the torch in her palm, it felt like a bad dream she couldn’t wake up from. She pulled her attention from the torch to the house. Constantine, Mote, Atticus and Drusilla were carefully moving Quincy from the shack to his final resting place around the back of the building where Constantine had built the pyre.

She followed the group as they carefully carried Quincy and placed him onto the pyre of wood and dried brush. Once he was settled the four stepped back and eyes fell upon Constantine who took the torch from Hollis’ hand. The crack of flint against steel set the torch aflame and made Hollis realize how little time she had left to make her decision.

Before he could light the pyre, Hollis stepped forward. The weight of the bracelet was awkward in her pocket and she knew definitively that it didn’t belong with her. The wrappings around Quincy that were once pristine were now growing stained by the weeping wounds beneath. Hollis took pause but still lifted one of the folds at his chest to securely tuck the bracelet underneath.

“He should have it.” She said in a low voice as Constantine watched her return to his side.

He nodded once and drew in a shallow breath, the lit torch extended in his hand. Constantine walked forward and did the task no one ever expects to have to, he lit the fire that would take his friend from this plane to the next.

As the fire caught on the dry brush it swelled up to swallow the body. In the flickering light Hollis could see Atticus, staring forward with a fixed expression. Mote across from them with her shield resting in front of her out of respect. Drusilla looked pale and sickly, though she stood tall with tense shoulders and clasped hands.

Constantine continued walking around the pyre, lighting any spot that hadn’t yet caught. As he performed this grim task he recited a prayer:

"Goodnight; ensured release,
Imperishable peace,
Have deese for yours,
While sea abides, and land,
And Eden’s foundations stand,
and dee flame endures.
When Eden’s foundations flee,
nor sky nor land nor sea
At all is found Content you,
let dem burn: It is not your concern;
Sleep on, sleep sound."

Hollis listened to Constantine’s words, her eyes fixed unblinking on the fire as it grew around Quincy and swallowed him. The five of them stood in solemn silence watching the fire do its work. The smoke lifted up and away into the air, but Hollis could still smell the distinct nauseating and sweet scent of flesh burning.

The stacked pyre finally gave way and collapsed, taking with it any human shape that could be distinguished. The act of cremation would take hours and as she stood there Hollis became increasingly tired, an exhaustion that was only felt after hours of holding back grief. She knew she couldn’t keep the dam up for much longer.

“Will you let Miss Harlow know, Atticus?” Mote asked, pulling the man’s attention from the fire to her.

“I- Yes, yes I’ll inform her.” He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to the fire.

“I think I’d like to go lay down.” Hollis said to no one in particular, “I’m going to go to the workshop.”

Constantine pulled his attention away from the pyre and his brow knit with concern. “I’ll walk you back. Mote, will you see dat everyone else gets back alright?”

“Of course” She responded quietly.

Hollis looked at those gathered and offered a brief nod of recognition. Her eye’s met with Drusilla’s and she noticed her gaze flit from her to Constantine as it came to rest on him. Hollis was too tired to read into the meaning there.

The pair walked silently to her workshop and when they got to the door Constantine was the one who unlocked it and held the door for her. Mechanically, Hollis went about her evening routine. She pulled her boots off and set them by the carpentry bench and let her hair down.

She crawled into the small bed and stared forward blankly, her mind and body both exhausted from the day.

“Sleep well, Hollis.” Constantine said gently.

“When you’re ready to retire, can you come back?” she asked, her eyes still fixed forward.

“I can stay if you’d like.”

“I’d like a minute alone, but not too many of them.”

Constantine nodded, “Alright. I won’t be gone long.”

With that he slipped out of the room. Hollis was sure he was heading back up to the pyre to make sure everyone else got back alright. It was a very Constantine thing to do. In the dark she could still see the flashes before her eyes that had been burned there while watching the fire. She knew they’d fade soon, but part of her didn’t want them to.

When was the last time she had seen Quincy? Was it when they spoke here at the workshop? No, there was a time more recently. She’d run into him leaving the fort with Drusilla in tow. She was in a bad way and Quincy was carrying a chair behind her. Constantine had come upon them and the four shared an awkward moment.

Was that really the last time she’d seen Quincy? When he and Constantine had gotten into a tiff and Quincy returned to the fort. Drusilla had turned to Hollis and told her to follow after him. “Why?” Had been her response to her, a word that echoed in her ears and dug at her conscience. Would things have been any different if she had chased after him?

The thought went round and round in her head. Why did Drusilla want her to go after him? What was it that she knew that Hollis didn’t? The thoughts whirled around in her mind chipping away at her until the dam broke loose.

Hollis cried, not in gentle gasps and quiet tears but in harrowing wails and large ugly tears. She cried until she couldn’t breathe and her breaths came in stunted gulps that made her claw at her chest. She let everything out in a torrent of grief that no one needed to bear witness to. Quincy was dead and nothing in her world would be right again.

Some time later, she couldn’t be sure when, Hollis finally cried herself to sleep. She only half woke when she felt Constantine finally crawl into bed with her, but she had no energy left. Tomorrow would be another day, but it would be the first she’d have to spend without Quincy in it. Tomorrow would be the first of many difficult days.

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