Nivellen: A Legacy from the Frozen Barrens

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Atreyo
Posts: 68
Character: Fiat Tenebrae

Blood and Ink

Post by Atreyo » April 15th, 2023, 4:58 pm

════ ★ X ★ ════


"Well, having known pain doesn't mean I -like- it! Just...do what you can, I don't see why you'd hurt me on purpose".

Inky hissed another of those nose laughs, Nivellen was so used to it, she paid no second thought to them. The smell of Zeela's burnt cookies radiated from the tray where nearly half of them remained uneaten, mixed with the reigning scent of ink and sweat inside her cabin. He worked on something on his lap, sitting on a chair beside the bed, on which she lay on her belly.

"If it's just a sting, then that's fine. It'll still be worth it", she said, her head buried on crossed arms.

"I'll be gentle", he leaned over, holding something she couldn't quite see. "You may like, I think. A sting. Sharp against flesh. Biting. Feels like something".

Even though he had his chest bared, his hair was already plastered on his brow as droplets of sweat popped here and there. Her place wasn't that warm, but Nivellen didn't object when he requested she took her smock off; in a perfect world, she would hardly use anything from the waist up if the climate was agreeable enough.

Whatever he was applying to her right shoulder didn't strike her as unpleasant, though she could tell it would get worse down the line.

"I thought it'd feel colder than that, also".

"Never what we think, mm? Now comes the heat".

"Okay", she said, biting on the fleshy bit of her lower lip.

She twitched and squirmed a little under his grasp, taking turns between trying to look at him and burying her face in the unmade bedsheets. It was definitely more than just a sting, and she felt he fooled her the same way doctors did when they didn't want to alarm someone too much until it was too late.

"Hrm!", she groaned, gripping the sheets after a particularly painful section on her shoulder blade. He didn't falter, however, the needled stick digging shallow bits of skin to press the ink into her flesh.

"How does it feel?".

"I've had better!", she scowled, sticking her nose hard onto the mattress and wheezing; hearing his chirping laughs didn't improve her mood at all.

"A favor, you said?", he kept outlining the design, his mind honed by whatever he sniffed just before he began.

"Yeah".

"Might I ask it now?".

"What?".

"The favor".

"I know!", she barked back, irritated. "What!".

"Honesty", he said quickly, continuing to tap needlework over the design.

"You're not making much sense, love. What about honesty?", she shifted a bit to look at him, trying not to hamper his work on her back.

"Tell me of Weylin".

"That's what you want to know? About Wesley?", she blinked, licking her lips and offering him a puzzled look. "Why?".

Staying still was not quite within the Arkhonen's capabilities when he told her his reasons, and Nivellen had trouble believing his apprehensions were at all grounded in reality. Nevertheless, she wasn't mad at him, just flabbergasted. Inky softened after her truthful replies as per his request, and it led her to see him another man, quite different from the one she bathed in their first encounter in the bath house.

"What I don't understand is this endless beef people have between themselves!", she huffed, rubbing her brow nervously. "Why must -I- be everybody's messenger?".

She grew more used to the pricks on her back, which in turn served to pull her out of that snapping mood Nivellen was in. They circled around dense topics involving Wesley and Zeela, but what deeply moved her was his reason to begin a new life in this province.

"I see. I helped many of my girls with that problem over the years".

"He is no -problem-", he hissed, and she knew he meant it when he stopped with the stick.

"Glad to hear it. That's not very common", she moved a bit to face him, albeit it was very uncomfortable to do it while lying down. "In fact, I was imagining that's the very reason you escaped here in the first place. Seems I'm wrong".

A blanket of silence befell them, save for the faint rustling of Inky's clothes as he focused on the design. It had been a rough week for her, but she never imagined just how tragic his life had been up to that point, and Nivellen didn't even realize when she shifted on the bed so they could lock their gazes; some things deserved proper attention.

"Still, I'm sorry, Inky. You didn't even come here by choice".

The words he allowed her to have that evening were completely stripped of defense or self-assurance, they were more naked than either of them were on the surface. She felt a tug on her chest that bothered a million times more than the stings on her back: would she be able to ease some of the pain that man carried inside? Doubtfully, and that conclusion left a bitter taste on the back of her throat. Granted, Nivellen had lost a lot in life too, but his frankness truly cast him under a whole new light through her eyes from that moment on.

She fought the urge to just lunge at him and envelop Inky in an embrace, she had been emotional the last few days, and it wouldn't be a wise thing to do. Still, maybe he could read it in her eyes, as his perceptions and finesse seemed heightened after indulging in that odd powder. Could she really blame him for seeking refuge in a drug's temporary oblivion so often? Would she do differently were she under the same circumstances, the same bad contract he was bound to?

She lingered on her threshold for several minutes after they parted, cold gusts of wind ruffling the sheets she wrapped around herself when she followed him to the door. Nivellen almost forgot the tattoo she requested of him, as if the mark he left on her skin seemed feeble; the real one was left inside her, and she'd bet all her chips Time would have no rule over this one's permanence.

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Atreyo
Posts: 68
Character: Fiat Tenebrae

Mourned Twice

Post by Atreyo » April 23rd, 2023, 10:54 pm

════ ★ XI ★ ════


Her hair was clumped and filthy, stuck to her forehead, even though Nivellen didn't pay much notice to the sweat dripping from her nose. Frogs croaked somewhere in the vicinity of the stale pond which swallowed her legs knee-high, but her eyes were drawn solely to whatever she clutched between her hands.

Nivellen stood half-immersed in the murky pool for hours, the cold air dispatching gust after gust and making her shiver; blobs of rich mud streaking long, dark hair onto her bare back. She rubbed and pressed and squeezed the doll's eyes frantically, stopping only to scrub her own eyes, already reddened from weariness. Tears were allowed to roam freely down her cheek when the toy's eyes finally began to clear somewhat.

"Sysko, paras ystävä, is that you?

I'm sorry to have sought you this long, but it's becoming hard! I think... I think what I took from you before they tossed your remnants into the fire is on its last legs. A better locus than home was needed, and even paint a proper beast on my chest to seal the deal of the link! It's an aardvark, if I read the moonlight correctly, but whatever! How are you?

Yes, I have big news, Sis: I found a Scion!"
, she smiled, looking at the doll as her eyes welled up. "Yeah, I agree. You have -no- idea how light my heart felt after hearing that yes! We'll have a worthy sapling soon, uncloistered by this fiery circus they have going down here".

Nivellen furrowed her brow, keeping her silence as she locked her eyes with the toy's. "That's right, I met a sister a few days ago, and I don't think she's a neophyte either. Granted, she was a little impatient, but...Heddi, can you blame her? All that secrecy and care to cover our tracks for months, then years! Maybe that could've been me if I didn't have the support I found on these lovely souls I'm constantly going on about".

She frowned, anxiously biting on her lip. "Sis, there's little left of you inside this doll, I believe we'll have only once more, I feel its essence waning. And you know we still need to talk about...that night. I sought advice from a wise gypsy woman and we need to settle this, okay? It'll probably be in a dream, I don't think I can reach you again just with this anymore".

"Heddi, I love you! Keep the raven spirits watching over me, especially now I'm in the open. I need all you can give me".

The silvery moonlight arched slowly across the water's blotchy surface, yet Nivellen didn't move; she simply stood there, holding the ordinary doll and preparing to mourn her sister all over again. This time, forever.

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Atreyo
Posts: 68
Character: Fiat Tenebrae

Hands joined at Twelve

Post by Atreyo » April 28th, 2023, 7:25 am

════ ★ XII ★ ════


A rolling mist blocked most of her view, yet she wouldn't be able to see anyway: her real flesh self was fast asleep on her bed, wrapped in a blanket and immersed in burning incense, a better kind than the one she gave to the ranger in the briars. Nivellen's conscience traveled through the galleries and alleyways of her memories. It wasn't a trip she wanted to take, but regrets piled quickly once they started, and she might miss her chance by waiting any longer.

The fog dispersed, and her projection was standing behind the guest chair in the card reader's tent. The Nivellen of that memory occupied the chair, her face frozen in astonishment as Miss Dealing delivered her deepest secrets without skipping a beat. Everything was stuck, unmoving and grayed out. However, it all slowly started to unwind, and her relief gave way to a conversation she'd rather never revisit again.

"You owe her this", the buxom gypsy said, her eyes peering through the smoke leaving her cigarette. "Maybe even more, and I know you realize this too; but you don't have that much time now, so make up your mind quickly".

"I know you're aware of what I did!", she said, wringing her hands. "How could I look her in the eye after that? Could you?".

"It doesn't matter, it happened and either you make a choice, or time will see that you no longer have that luxury". She flicked her cigarette briefly. "Once the egg cracked, it can't be put back together, no matter how much you try".

"Even if-".

"You're stalling. Be wary that facing her means more to you than your sister". She puffed some smoke through both nostrils. "Such a debt left unsettled never fails to collect its dues. You've been warned".

The tent's interior flickered for a moment and then dissolved, the myriad hallways reappearing before her projection. Yet, the tug in her gut remained: the fortune-teller didn't miss a single mark, but having your worst shortcomings laid out in front of your eyes without wiggle room was nerve-racking. Despite all the truth to her words, Miss Dealing can go fuck herself!

Nivellen was more adept of her witchcraft than she was the last time, and maneuvering between her memories of Heddi was easier. The temptation to board the odd merry one was tenacious, but she pulled forward: the trance was very demanding and this was probably her last chance. Heddi grew older as she progressed through the corridors, the figments of her recollections becoming more austere and even daunting as their relationship deteriorated.

The few rooms ahead of her had scant qualities to them, as if Nivellen didn't really care to pay them any mind, and then there it was: the well-defined icy marsh in the last room. The amount of detail imparted how important that memory was, and she wished it was just as pleasant.

She wandered in the damp soil through thickets of withering cypress trees. Nivellen could sense herself chewing on her lower lip even though she was actually layers of consciousness below, resting on soft fabric. Whatever strength she had left was spared for this moment: she knew damn well what was about to happen and preferred to drown in her own spit rather than witness it firsthand again.

Heddi was a few yards away gathering orchids, a basket hooked on her arm ripe with them. It was dusk, and her little sister loved it. 'Not really day, not night either' she would say. Odd how the little things come rushing back for no reason. Then there was faint shuffling of feet, that's the part where that torment-riddled fiend mashed the girl to a pulp.

That was it, she had to establish a connection with Heddi through the last memory she had of her. Pouring everything she had, Nivellen pictured the old doll her real self clung to, the small teeth sewn inside radiating what was left of her passage through Eden. There was no room for failure, else she would be stuck in that scene and forced to relive the brutal assault about to ensue.

"Heddi!", she heard herself scream, and maybe she really did in the real world. Everything started slowing down, and the mist that covered the cold marsh stood still as everything lost color except for the both of them. The brown-haired girl turned slightly, still carrying the basket but said nothing. Still, that didn't happen if her memory served, so this was really her.

"Sis, I-", the words failed to leave her throat, congested as she drew near until they were no more than three paces apart. Heddi swayed lightly from side to side, looking at the contents of her basket. She came this far, she -had- to say it!

"Heddi, I'm sorry", her lip started trembling, but at least the words were flowing. "I'm sorry I envied you. I couldn't handle you going from my little sister to the best druid among us in the space of a few months, and I did the unthinkable out of spite. The remorse, eating at me-".

She gagged, the wings of her nose already red and moist. "I thought some humility would be good for you, so a hungry wolf or mastiff would take a bite off you for good measure! So I followed you around, until that thing spotted you. I never-".

She dabbed her eyes on a sleeve, even though Heddi didn't seem to notice any of it. "I saw him, but I thought you were so strong! I've seen you bring a bear to its knees, you could've handled it! Only...instead you retreated back into that world inside your head, and -still- I could've come out of hiding, and it was as good as done!".

"But no, I was fuming to come to your rescue. I was older, and being put aside on behalf of your talent was just too much! So I waited just a little longer...and then he sprang to life and-", she gagged again. "I'm sorry, Heddi".

"You were family, I should never have...have-".

There was a light tugging on her sleeve, and when Nivellen opened her eyes, her sister was tidying it up before placing an orchid in her hand. The dreamer broke down at the sight, her projection's tears rolling freely as the trance wavered. Everything seemed distorted, her concentration breaking fully until the marsh and all else devolved into nothingness.


* * *

She reopened her eyes in the confines of her cabin, the faint scent of lavender still lingering. The pillow felt damp against her skin, but she didn't move. There was no other presence in that room but hers, the doll no more than a dull toy now; nothing left of Heddi in it but old teeth.

Nivellen pulled the blanket higher as true loneliness embraced her at last.

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Atreyo
Posts: 68
Character: Fiat Tenebrae

It gets spicier

Post by Atreyo » May 15th, 2023, 6:44 pm

════ ★ XIII ★ ════


At a Hearth and Hale table on a neglected yet cozy corner...

"I can't stop eating these!", a blonde woman grinned, nibbling on another spicy olive from the bowl.

"Why, thank you, Brit!", Nivellen brushed her hair from her shoulder, chuckling. "Garlic is one of those things you can totally botch, and it still comes out alright".

"Just remember to drink some wine before talking close to somebody", Maximus winked Brit's way. "Perhaps a lot of wine".

"You're telling my breath's rancid, then?".

"No, girl, it's one of Maxi's many tricks to get a woman drunk", Nivellen said, flicking an olive into her mouth.

"Not always, but is being loose and relaxed such a bad thing?", he shrugged.

"Oh, Nivi here told me what you love to see loose and relaxed. How about you focus on your beef there, chum?". Maximus' eyes sought the dark-haired woman at that, his expression sullen.

"You've been talking to her behind my back now?".

"Come now, darlings", she reached for each other's hands as she sat between them. "We're not only adults, but also partners here, okay? You two work in the same building, and I wouldn't want to lose either of you on a date's lousy choice".

Brit squeezed an olive between her teeth as Maximus grunted. "Fine".

"By the way, Nivi", she smiled, "I love the job, just to let you know".

"Oh, I'm sure you do! You're the only other person I've ever seen to wear flowers on your head, I figured you'd love selling them as well".

"Let me guess, our buddy didn't like the dinner idea, hmm?", he arched his eyebrows.

"As if! You have no idea how hard it is to draw him from his reading, let alone convince him to take some air away from the gypsies", she sighed, picking on her long nails.

"Who's that?", Brit tilted her head.

"Our partner in Bright Lantern, honey. He's so much fun, I'll introduce you to him if sales drop too much", she ran her tongue on her lips with a sly smirk.

"Ahem. I better get some mead for my bad breath, then". She looked Maximus straight in the eye. "A very watery mead". Niv chuckled in a high pitch while the man held his cheek on a fist, yet still darted a quick glance Brit's way once she crossed the table towards the bar.

"So cute!", the Arkhonen pinched his chin, making him smile eventually.

"Okay", he leaned in, locking blue eyes on hers, "how's the apprentice doing?".

"Oh, just fine", she smiled, playing with his sleeve as she looked down. "A lot of dedication there, I just wished I got there before a lot of stuff ruined their self-confidence".

"Well, I can think of a lot of worse things than being humble".

"Yeah, we've got humility in buckets there", she smiled, finally raising her eyes. "But a firm gut is needed down the line, you know that".

"Are you still dead set on that?", he cradled her hand onto his own.

"I'd be glad not to, but haven't found anything better", she locked her eyes on his until Maximus looked away. "Also, there's something else".

"What?".

"We have a problem with a girl I meant to tell you about", she scratched her shoulder as a means to cast a quick glance the other way. "I suspected she might have talents, and I just received confirmation that both she has them and recklessly allows them to flow freely".

"Is the source solid?".

"My Scion", she nodded.

"What will you do?", he added quickly, as Brit's skirt ruffled in the edge of his field of view.

"Dunno", she smiled on cue as Brit sat down with a brown, sweaty bottle.

"What did I miss?", she looked between them, working the cork with a grimace.

"Not a thing, sweetheart", Niv smiled, yet pressed Maxi's hand an inch tighter.



Tibi, amice

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Atreyo
Posts: 68
Character: Fiat Tenebrae

Goodbye, Hutch

Post by Atreyo » June 7th, 2023, 3:44 pm

════ ★ XIV ★ ════


The unsteady gait dug crude trenches in the barren road, there had been very little to prepare Nivellen for the ghastly news upon her return to the Fort.

“The hospital being closed makes treating patients a pain”, said Ara, the doctor’s enormous frame positively dwarfing her own. “Especially those who can’t come to my clinic”.

“Closed? Why?”.

“A crime happened there, probably someone trying to get to Lucien’s body”.

“Whose body?”, she squealed, the trip’s weariness probably playing tricks on her.

“Lucien”. Nivi stared at her, the jumble of words not making much sense.

“Oh, is he ill?”.

“He’s, uh, dead”, Ara said, summarily.

Nivi smirked, she knew the taller woman to be quirky, putting it mildly. However, it was pretty bad taste, as easy an audience for jokes she was.

“Come on. As far as jokes go, this is pretty shitty”.

“Not a joke”.

Nothing in Ara’s face twitched in that clean-cut delivery, and it began to dawn on her that the woman might not be pulling a prank. The Arkhonen’s expression quivered and then fell, the bland looks of the uncomfortable merchants trying to busy themselves in their stalls.

Hutch. Everybody else knew him as Lucien, but it was Hutch for her. What did he say not long ago?

“It’s starting to grow on me”.

The world slowed, the weight of the realization piling on the weariness of the several days’ camping trip she just got back from. Ara’s hollow voice echoed in her ears as if she was half a mile away, something about a newly arrived elderly woman she was supposed to help. Nivellen wasn’t sure if she actually met the woman (what was it, Tasha?), it was all a haze in her memory. She just wanted to get home and shut the door.

The moment she slammed herself inside to take a breath, soft knocks ensued. Nivellen gritted her teeth but soon relaxed as she saw Celly standing outside, already out of her boots. Immediately she wrapped Nivi in a hug, the poor girl unaware of just how bad she reeked of dry sweat and leaves after the trip; a damp cloth swab every other day being what passed for a semblance of hygiene.

“Actually, this is not a good time-”.

“Oh, should I go again?”.

“I know I owe you your fare”, she gently broke free from her grasp. “I haven’t forgotten, it’s just-”.

“What’s wrong?”.

They went on a bit about Hutch and, though the girl didn’t know him very well, she was sad too. Celly promised to check again the next day and gave Nivellen the space she needed. The door was locked and bolted, nobody would be let in for a few hours; not even Wesley.

A couple days ago, she had Stef’s aide at the Matchlight deliver him a bad drawing she had made: it was a promise she made to let him know she was well, and there was no sheet tacked in his wagon’s gate as she dropped by, so Wesley probably had it. He had been the only one Nivellen checked on as soon as she returned, her nephew in every way but blood bond.

Now completely on her own, it was time to brood; the thought Hutch would never again sit on the guest chair slowly creeping in and bringing her energy down. Nivellen reached for that bottle of much nicer ale he gave her the first time, using a stool because the top shelf was too damn high above the stove. Only then she began to mourn him in the way she knew: delving into good times’ memories, or maybe the ones that simply stuck.

The one where Jerkyll was gazing up at apple trees with her when Hutch showed up; the one when they talked about Vera…the secret massage arrangement in which Hutch had been the guinea pig! That’s a funny one…

The cookie-making session, in which both Inky and Hutch laid her a hand, the clear tension in the room somewhat diminished as everyone had sticky hands full of dough. The casino proposition that wouldn’t come to pass, how exciting it would all have been.

She leaned on the table and laid her head on her arm, her empty gaze regarding the pretty bottle’s label that she couldn’t read. All her effort in keeping those mischievous boys at bay and having them play nice with one another.

Her arm felt sticky as the tears streaked, the very last thing she said to Hutch on her doorstep.

“I don’t want to see any familiar faces being dragged near a pyre in the morning!”. She was so tired, but had she known it was the last time, she would have stayed! The tears pooled quicker as she played in her head the last time she'd hear his voice.

“I’ll try my best”.

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Atreyo
Posts: 68
Character: Fiat Tenebrae

Keep away the Ugly

Post by Atreyo » July 7th, 2023, 6:19 am

════ ★ XV ★ ════



"Obviously, you are swelling and it is painful to bear weight, yes?", called a feminine voice beyond the velvety curtains.

Nivellen wouldn't tell anyone how sore her fingers were there in the kitchen, the knife digging easily into the ripe bananas' flesh, wedging yellow marks up her skin. It didn't sour her mood nonetheless; it was the price for much-needed massages, and that's the role she's aspired to for most of her life.

Between slicing fruit and watering enough flour to make a big enough dough ball, she peeked past the curtains separating her from Theo and Wesley in the back of his small apartment. That's the semblance of everyday life she strove for: having a doctor check on Wesley while she made them food to make that a proper visit. Everything got better with food.

Had it been really two hours in the bath house? Nivellen almost cursed, checking the pocket watch left on the table among the mess that cluttered his place lately. She incorporated most of the bananas into the soft dough, leaving only a handful of slices to decorate the top before sliding the tray into the oven. However, she pulled it back open to sprinkle some more sugar on top before returning it to the fire; "if ever in doubt, put a little more sugar", good advice from Ma she always put in practice.

"And what, just - uhm, walk with my hands using crutches?", she caught when rejoining the two of them, most of her brow grubby with flour blotches and sweat.

"If you have to walk", Theo nodded, making Wesley wrinkle his nose; a gesture that made her want to land a square punch in his face sometimes. "I'd prefer you didn't for at least another week".

"I can always leave a bucket and give him a wash, if that's required", Nivellen said, looking between them both.

"I've been, uhm, getting to the bathhouse and back fine. Uhm".

"Why did you not send for help, outside of Niv here?".

And the medical call went on, with Theo rounding him with professional questions and Wesley doing his best to comply while cornered by both women. The insidious aroma wafting from the oven slowly drew Nivellen's focus from the ongoing conversation to Theo's appointment in the baths hours ago, and her gaze assumed that unfocused quality of someone who's not really there for a moment.

"They do say that ignorance is bliss", Theo said, her arms propped at the edge of the large pool downstairs in the bathhouse. "Hard to argue".

"What can I say? It's a day-to-day mission to just go out there and do stuff that makes you feel good".

"How is your nephew otherwise? I have not seen him since our sordid date".

"Oh, he's got both legs fucked up. Usually it's just one, but-", Nivellen shrugged. "Now he screwed up big time and is kinda sulking at home".

The Arkhonen was glad she came to cover Zachary's shift, otherwise she probably wouldn't have met Theo and have a chance to offer the woman the care she so obviously needed; those muscles were probably in need of relief for a long time. And yet, the doctor didn't leave, even after that odd episode at the massage table.

They kept talking down the main parlor and Nivellen found it so entertaining she chose to humor Timothy just a little longer: the young lad in charge of sorting and folding towels in the far back of the parlor had stopped doing any of those things and she couldn't really blame him for it. The doctor had only a flimsy wrap to cover her crotch and herself was bare from the waist up, would she keep folding towels at such a sight were she a strapping lad privy to a free show?

Nivellen kept smirking, but eventually decided the prank has outlived its value.

"Okay, can I tell you something?".

"Hmm", Theo nodded.

"I think Timothy over there is enjoying himself far too much already, as it is", she smirked, motioning to him at a discrete spot in the gloom. The influx of sudden realizations hit Theo in close succession and she dipped for the curtains, her bareness not coming to her mind's grasp up to that point. Nivellen smirked at him outside, allowing little graces here and there because life was tough enough without impromptu boons.

"Did she help you decorate too, or is this all you?", Theo's question jerked her back to reality, and she blinked over a crooked grin.

"All Wesley!".

"Well - uhm, you did get on me about my first set of curtains being too beige", he added meekly.

"Shut up, you did an amazing job here. And that's that". Theo let out a pleased smile as she watched them.

Shortly before she had to leave, the banana bread was served and it was mighty fine, if only a little too sweet; but is there such a thing as too much sugar? Her bones ached and she longed for her mattress, but at the same time it was hard to leave. There wasn't death contracts or veiled threats in that small apartment, only small talk about pillow colors and Wesley's beautiful artwork.

If only moments like these could hang and push the ugly back only for one day more...

User avatar
Atreyo
Posts: 68
Character: Fiat Tenebrae

The Best Kind of Fire

Post by Atreyo » August 23rd, 2023, 5:07 pm

════ ★ XVI ★ ════


The joke about Wesley being either sound asleep or possibly dead in his apartment wasn't funny, but the tribeswoman offered a heartfelt laugh anyway. Nivellen wanted to keep up the charade of being upset at Fursite for longer, and having her nephew there would be a perfect excuse, but eventually that dinner's prospects won her over and she decided to just be there; no games whatsoever.

Both Tawasha and the old inventor seemed genuinely thrilled to have her on their grounds, and it felt refreshing to be invited with no strings attached, no chance opportunities suddenly remembered during the course of supper; they just wanted an extra seat by the campfire.

"It's mashed potatoes and ribs", Tawasha said, handling the cooking pot like someone who's done it a thousand times. Nivellen's gaze kept to the bubbling purée, considering how much Riverrun Landing resembled an actual home when guests could catch food to-be still on the stove. More than the couple tours and their lush garden, that ultimately disarmed her.

"You were saying something about your shed, salvia", she said to the older woman.

"Yes", she nodded towards him, "because Slayton. It's something he made only for me".

"Right", Nivellen allowed a faint smile to form. "Well, I'll say it's endearing to have someone raise an entire building just for one's sake".

When each of them moved to the fire with plates in hand, the same honest chat flowed undisturbed. Tawasha brought to light the complicated structure of desert clans and tribes and how they were raising from the ground up something both new and similar. There were tribal names fitting odd occasions and even light scolding behind some of them, but it was clear Fursite and Tawasha were already intimate; there was no such attempt to hide it from her eyes, and Nivellen felt the pang of that much-desired but never-gotten peace.

"I heard you take guests in homes here".

"Yes, we do", Fursite said, taking a sporkful of potatoes.

"We do have housing here for people who can't find a place in the fort", the tribeswoman added.

"What's the tax to stay here?".

"Five silver weekly", he said. Nivellen stopped chewing and flicked her gaze up from her plate, perhaps repeating the exchange in her head to make sure she heard it right.

"You're fucking nuts", she said after a while.

"The aim is for those who cannot find housing, I do it not for profit", Fursite nodded calmly. "We do it for the refugees".

"Well, it -is- your place, but considering the danger of harboring just anyone that comes in with their tail between their legs..."

"Eh, it could be seen as a risk, perhaps".

He went on to explain some arrangements with the locks, but her attention was elsewhere; inwardly, she was astonished that they didn't care if the new arrivals deserved an abode among them. Skirting the shadows of judgment both in her mundane and druidic lives molded Nivellen to suspect first and embrace later; both of them were doing the opposite and she wondered at that moment which one was more fulfilling.

Between the next cup of tea and dessert, a handsome lad under a hideous hat came slowly into view amid the cottages.

"Sakima!", Watasha cried out with excitement. It's one of those names she'd never memorize, even if she tried.

"Even'n", said Jakell, popping a small grin.

Nivellen jested about the Greatport bad fashion style, but Jakell didn't really give two fucks about it; she secretly enjoyed that, though he'd never be graced with that confession from her lips. Both he and the older woman vanished from view to deal with pantries, leaving the porch to herself and the host. Small talk came easily between the two, but her mind wandered to Watasha's invitation a few days back.

"Can you come tomorrow night?", she had asked. The idea didn't appeal to her then, at least at first: she had seen Benjamin by the docks the day before, and Nivellen was eager to surrender herself to his embrace for a couple of hours. Her bed hadn't seen any action in weeks and she was in need of his gentle handling, which both of them sought comfort in.

"You know what? Okay, I'll come", her words surprised even herself, but Tawasha's smile confirmed it was not a bad decision. "However, we must eat by that campfire you showed me the last time I came by".

And there she was, back on the porch, with Tawasha's and Jakell's voices echoing somewhere nearby. She'd see Benjamin sometime this week, but Nivellen found the closeness she craved in that dish with ribs and potatoes. More than once she played with the idea of sharing some of her mind during the course of dinner: that it was the month of the Fox, so that's why foxes chased her talisman around both times when she was over; that she gave a boon to the colorful lilies around the porch when she stroked their leaves. But why ruin an enjoyable occasion by heading down a path rife with downsides?

"Will eventually place a better campfire than the two rocks", Fursite cut through the silence, sipping his tea.

"Oh, yeah, she told me about that. Frankly, I hope you don't".

"Why's 'at?".

"I reckon that fire's more than enough, kinda fed up with it as it easily brings other less pleasant things to mind", she put her own cup away.

Only on her way home did what she said really strike her: even though bonfires did make her sick to her stomach, Nivellen noticed there had been no corralling in that gathering; nobody played the musty Decus card on her or measured her take on screaming posters pinned everywhere in the Fort. Fursite wanted to add his touch to his vision of a good campfire? Let him to it. She left their place in high spirits and with a light heart. Whatever they come up with to spice up their cooking grounds, that couple was already fanning the best kind of fire.

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Atreyo
Posts: 68
Character: Fiat Tenebrae

Landslide

Post by Atreyo » December 29th, 2023, 10:43 pm

════ ★ XVII ★ ════


The rocks still felt warm as she stroked them with a thumb. The same rocks which, but a moment ago, granted Nivellen her wish to go home.

Some things changed in the past few months, others did not. Her hand against the ever rising masses of undying flesh was the same, though there wasn’t much progress other than keeping her cabin or her gypsy friends away from such filth whenever possible. She didn’t enjoy trying her knives against the rot which roamed so freely in the Coast, but allowing them to exist unopposed carried a bitter taste of the white flag she wasn’t ready to wave yet.

The loss of her apprentice, however, panged her now just as much it did back when she was forced to consider him either dead or gone for good. Nivellen knew he wouldn’t leave her in the dark by his own hand lest Fate threw something nasty his way.

“I'm sure that's not it - he just up and vanished. I don't know of anyone that knows where he went off too”, said the utterly styleless yet sweet woodworker upon a chance encounter in one of her dealings with Maximus. That pretty, familiar face was a fond sight, though she’d probably skirt Jakell’s invitation to see the new place he was living in; although she envisioned chatting on the hard floor like old times, the Arkhessian had developed a lot since keeping social troubles at arm’s length and the Greatport boy was a sackful of them.

Keeping to herself in true recluse fashion had worked wonders for Nivellen’s growth, she wished Crone and her sisters could’ve seen what she had just done! She was still sitting by the inanimate rocks, banged up and with likely a strained elbow. Yet somehow a warm sense of accomplishment washed over her in slow waves, even in those desecrated grounds.

Dusk descended upon her sooner than expected, the fucking winter’s double-faced gift. Though Nivellen could spot her cabin’s outline from her position at the ruined monastery, the path was crooked and more so misleading under the cloak of weak lighting. She made for the southern at once, her arms heavy by her go at scores of the surface minions of whichever evil that would never be truly vanquished. Nevertheless, her worries were of another nature.

She heard the noise, that known clicking of boots on stone pavers, and exhaled. She’d rather just go back without crossing paths with those fearless red-caped sentries, but they were already oozing from the shadows here and there in the path she needed to cross. If not for those blinded by folly as to seek the catacombs below, the spear-wielding entities were the fiercest foes to challenge whoever found themselves in the monastery amidst the dark.

Despite her tiptoeing, the keen, unnatural eyes soon landed on Nivellen’s frame and in the next moment they were dancing with no music. The salt in her sweat mingled with bloody scrapes, making her eyes burn between each other’s missed thrusts. She was holding her own, but the word heavy echoed in her mind as her endurance waned.

She was twice victorious, yet could not even waddle before leaving the dry magical leaves do their work on her gaping wounds. Nivellen was spent, fueled only by maybe one hundred paces until the makeshift fence. Her ugly roof was just there, she told herself repeatedly under her breath…and a third sentry was also privy to that whisper.

Nivellen rolled to push herself up on a knee, but it didn’t happen, she was too weary. The clicking boots approached quickly and, in a bout of despair, dropped her blades and splayed her fingers onto the dirt. She couldn’t remember the words that left her lips, but in her mind she only begged help me get home; in the Arkhessian’s confusion, she didn’t realize the earth was draining her entire mental fortitude.

Something rumbled nearby, but her blurry eyes took rather long to realize the warrior had stopped in his track: the woman caught those odd eyes studying something beside her for a spit second, and only then she spotted the eight-feet tall pile of rocks and roots melded into humanoid form. The red-caped warrior quickly sprung to action, but so did the faceless golem.

She had no idea if those supernatural lieutenants could feel pain, but his face was distraught when the large stone hand enveloped his arm. In a clean motion, the warrior was slammed sideways against the tall cypress Nivellen was leaned against, causing a murder of crows to abandon their perch in the nearby thicket. There was no way to tell if the cracking noise that ensued related to wood or bone; it was terrifying nonetheless.

How much does a stone golem weigh? The question snuck in her mind as she noticed the creature lift a massive foot towards the crumpled shape of the enemy before them. The foot descended flat on his back when he was recovering his stance, carrying with it the whole bulk of her savior’s mass; what remained after the stomp twitched briefly and then became still.

As if on cue, the rumble began again and the golem fell to pieces before her eyes, the roots receding back towards the dirt whence they came. Those were the rocks she was touching for a few minutes now, awestruck by that ruined cypress. She wished she could show it to Heddi, and Wesley, and everyone who blindly followed that distant god from books and objections.

If one is worthy enough, call out to Mother and She will answer.

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