(Untitled)

[devilears]

BROKEN PORTAnother scene right out of a painting. The ocean stretches out to the west and north, and hilly island terrain fills your line of sight when you turn your back to the water. Smells of sea and pine mix in the early autumn air, and the breeze that gently ebbs and flows like waves gives the place a comfortable temperature

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[docksides]

[ It's not proper-- not lady-like at all. But surely nobody is watching, and one thing that can never be trained out of a girl is her love of the sea. The young Stonewell heiress carefully bundles up the extravagant ruffles and lace of her costly dress to her chest, leaving her shoes neatly side-by-side in the sand as she steps into the most shallow parts of the water.

The sea kisses her stockings, pushes and pulls the back of her dress. ]

[such_ignobility]

[ No, not true. Someone is watching -- a pale-eyed boy with a lopsided grin and her fiance's face. He comes up quietly along the sand and stands there on a slippery rock, his sneakers threatening to give way underneath him though he doesn't really seem to care. There's something oddly familiar about her (her face) and yet oddly not (not nearly as proper). Eventually he calls out to her, his arms out-stretched at either sides to keep his balance: ]

Gonna get wet like that. Though-- [ A laugh. ] --guess that's the point, huh?

[docksides]

[ The sound of his laughter startles her more than the sound of his voice-- though she whirls quickly to face him with a blatant look of surprise on her face. Her face is unexpectedly expressive. But only for a moment. She remembers herself swiftly.

Hasty hands drop her dress down to cover what little of her legs had been showing before (never mind the skirt getting more wet; it's not proper at all for a young woman to expose her body like that) and a muted look of embarrassment replaces her initial surprise. ]

I... I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were there. [ A curtsy seems a bit out of place at this point, so she hesitantly tips her head at him. ] Hello, Brendan.

[such_ignobility]

[ Brendan tilts his head curiously at her, eyebrows lifting at the fact that she knows his name. So they do know one another? Is that why her face is so familiar to him -- sending tickles of deja vu along the back of his neck, coupled by echoes of her politeness? Hopping down from the rock, stumbling slightly in the process only to catch himself at the last minute, he tries to pick his way closer to the water's edge. ]

Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. [ He gestures at the hem of her dress. ] You're, ah. Getting wet. Don't want to get sick or anything do you?

[ His gaze lingers at where the hem of her dress sits in the water. He seems to be considering something before he looks up again, squinting apologetically. ] M'sorry, I don't remember your name. Are we friends?

[houseisonfire]

[ Oh, a scene from a painting, how picturesque. Ladybird has certainly seen it before and she knows she'll see it again. It's not particularly a problem but the tediousness of it all has left her sour-faced with a small frown. At least there weren't any people around to beg wishes and favors off of her, so she takes a begrudging comfort in that (albeit, huffily).

To pass the time she flits from this house to that, entering them without much care or notice to the things that once belonged to a people now-gone. The autumn chill in the air makes her slightly drowsy, though she fights the urge to sit on a rock somewhere and try to warm out in the sun. Instead, she stands on the porch of a house and plays with a lock of her hair -- bored out of her skull. Perhaps she'd be better off just flying away. ]

if I'm awake coffee jittering I might as well be productive...

[reposing_spring]

[The sea. Something he shares with his hated sister, he in need of water to grow, to rot, she in need of snow. He has no real affection sand and so he stays back from shoreline. He isn't here for the scenery besides. His elder sister had brought him a rather amusing message, amusing enough, in fact, that here he was.

He brings with him cloud of perfumes that are his namesake, they coat his skin, giving him a pale beautiful luster. Vines crawl the crumbling walls at his approach, stone crunching under their strong grip, taking back a few more inches of the land.]

Bored, dear?

no sleep for you yet? :[

[houseisonfire]

[ It is not secret (and Ladybird has many) that Reposing Spring is her favorite. The sweet cloy of his breath, the lengthening of his days, these things speak to Ladybird in ways that none of the other seasons can. His presence is enough to awaken her dulling senses, a flush of color (as bright as her infamous wings) graces her cheeks as she lets go the stubborn ringlet of hair and ducks her chin down in a sign of coquettish respect.

Dark eyes (black pupils set inside equally black irises) dart their attention across his face and then over and around at the new growth that he's brought with him. Her small pink mouth forms a smile, though her voice remains sulking and petulant. ]

Frightfully. No humans means no wishes. Which is both a good thing and a bad. But now that you're here... [ Her smile slides into a smirk. ]

my heart rate is hoppin. 8||||| magic of caffeine

[reposing_spring]

[There are many things to like about this little creature. First and foremost that she favors him. His vanity is always well served by this, but her flush makes his lips part with his languid (hungry, admiring) smile. Ah, an admirer in our midst, I see. But he had known that, heard from his sister what sort of meeting the two of them had had.]

In the vein of wishes, [He takes her curl for himself, soft warmth of his fingers very close to her face,] it pleased my sister to be offered one of yours.

[He has no real affection for Lydia's little pet, the boy is neither particularly handsome nor particularly charming. Spring would have brushed him aside like the bug he clearly is if he had been any other mortal. But his sister, his sweet sad sister, likes to brush his hair and coo to him, and what pleases her pleases him. She is well loved.]

[aut_augur]

[A strange relationship Jast and the ocean have. It's not really his, he can't mold and shape water the way he does with other things, can't read anything in its waves. Maybe that's what makes it so peaceful to him, frothy breakers and the slow rolling white noise of it allowing him to disconnect for a moment from the earth and indulge the air spirit in him. The ocean makes his eyes brighter than they should be, a poor imitation of a human boy, if the large group of gulls surrounding him didn't give him away as it was.

He sings to them softly, tracing bizarre ruins into the sand. He is without company outside of those he cares for, birds and the strange two headed thunderbird that skirts around his feet, echoing his song with enthusiasm.

It is a good day, his ruins read, and though there were once people here, land and sea will have it back. A very good day indeed.]

not sure what i'm doing here but figured i'd stick my foot in the door

[baby_pinfold]

[ Baby Bethlehem doesn't have a mind for water; she's a babe of the mountains after all. The smell of it makes her spit (a mermaid's smile, the baby kracken's kiss), but instead of wandering back away from the shore towards the more familiar rise and fall of the hills, she's drawn out to the water's edge by the sound of birds. One bird, in particular, which she looks at with large, covetous eyes; fingernails dig into the flesh of her palm, raising angry red marks on her skin. The things that she wants, when she wants them, are enough to make her head swim sometimes. Her lips tremble with the promise of a dozen unspoken spells. Focus, she tells herself. Focus now. At length, she manages to speak; her voice is lazy and sickly singsong. A long-boned finger lifts to point at the boy priest's feet. ]

Look at all the birds you've got. [ She smiles at him (those beaks, that thunderbird) hungrily from behind her hair, her neck craned at what could only be an uncomfortable angle. The corners of her mouth are wet. ] So pretty pretty

SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[aut_augur]

[Jast looks up at her quietly, something wary in his expression. The other birds shift about in response to him, but nothing has happened yet and so they do not take flight. She has a strange smell to him, black earth that he might have loved if it were not for the hunger vibrating underneath it. A nasty little human thing, but he has rules that dictate his propriety. If it lives, he loves it. If it rejects him, he is obliged no more. His lips purse and he bends down to lift Miikaal and bring him to her. He whistles a sharp warning to his familiar Do not taste her.]

Hello.

[He greets her softly, no good with man's tongue, worse when he has no real desire to speak.]

kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[baby_pinfold]

[ Baby knows all about animals, as right she should. Otherwise all that time under Momma's watchful eye would have gone to waste. She's seen her fair share of sows and strays (that's what you are, isn't it boy; a stray, my stray), has forced even the wildest of creatures to force their snouts into the dirt under her bare feet. The boy and his wariness do not bother her even though -- if she were wiser -- she'd know that her power comes from the earth and the earth is what he serves. But Baby grew up willful and proud and with a heart full of rot so when the boy scoops up the winged beast she drifts forward towards him -- hand still outstretched but not in greeting. Her fingertips twitch impulsively as he comes near.

Baby wants to see the lightning tear from its eyes, wants to taste the clouds that form with every beat off its wings. Her eyes glisten with desire for the creature, with tears of hate for the boy that holds it. Her breath is uneven and when she speaks it's more to the animal than to him.What fine feathers you

[devilears]

[ugh. this wasn't going to be a good day (wow, this is new).

at first, it's outrage; his nostrils flare and eyebrows furrow to complete his dark expression, gritting his teeth at the scenery. is this a joke? what damned spellcaster had he pissed off now? there would be no forgiveness for this.

with that established, he couldn't really expect anything to happen by simply standing there. he has to move, regardless of how ill it made him. he had to get out of here before his memories anchored him with regret and grief.

some welcome home.]

[gallowich]

[Gallowich hasn't seen the beach in years. She likes the water, even though she can barely swim. She watches the ocean for a moment before sniffing the charred earth.

Which leads to a sneeze.

She shakes her head and snuffles. In her head shaking she catches a glimpse of someone who looks... well, less than happy to be in this oceanside ghost town.]

[devilears]

[if he can just walk with his eyes off the ground and the houses and the broken bits of old lives, it'd be bearable. it just meant to walk slower on the slope; this isn't easy if you're not looking.

he picks up a sound and stops; his hands are already to the hilt before he can even begin to register what he sees. unsuprisingly, he is offended by it. who left their beast here to pick around the ruins?]

[gallowich]

[She's just a baby in terms of dragon years, but she recognizes a sign of aggression when she sees it. The man looks tough and he has a sword. Not someone she particularly wants to tangle with, but she's still curious.

So she bows down a bit, ears folded back submissively and tail on the ground. She isn't sure if she should try talking to this warrior yet.

Why in the world did she stumble into this place without Hoshiko...]

[trageddy]

[speaking of ghost towns...

Eddy is picking up pieces of charred brick from the ground and stacking them like leggos]

[phd_ghost]

[Doesn't a necromancer seem quite appropriate then.]

Quite amused are we?

[trageddy]

[it does! He senses that about him and looks up]

Mmmmmmm.

[phd_ghost]

[Qwe comes to watch, is always fascinated by dead things, imagine that.]

How long have you been wandering about?