[flashback] lightning walks. (caelum + nel)

[Caelum]

Caelum realized only belatedly that he was naked, but it had yet to make any connection in his mind with shame. His mind was a war zone as it was, filled with recently god-bombed ruins and little fires blazing, offering more destruction than warmth. The ghost children were watched with molten eyes, water darkened blades of hair slicking around the curves of elegant horns he did not yet understand were trapped on this threshold of seasons, an oil paint mix of gold and green not unlike iodized copper.

He shivered, arms snaking around himself, and blinked hard as the girl -- Nel, his mind tried and failed to note, to remember -- stepped in front of him. It occurred to him that she was lying. He had been on no ship, but he found he did not have the heart to question her, his only guide in this new, almost alien world.

It spun, this dismal place, everything aching and heavy, bruised and wanting to bear him down to the rough, dark beach where he could lie again unmoving. He did not yet understand he was in a state of extreme shock, that he would need clothes, a place to lay his head, and ultimately things such as gold in order obtain further, necessary items of living, of life beyond the reach of a loving goddess.

He muttered something that was meant to be in explanation to the woman, throat raw from screaming and sea water, that might have been the sky fell. He found himself peering down at the collection of the youthful dead.

[Cayenne]

"Did the boat sink?" a little girl with braided hair piped up again now that Nel had shown what was to them a rudimentary interest in their questions, which meant that --conversation was polite, really!-- they simply had to keep the conversation going. There was musing amongst themselves. Maybe they had all passed on. Where there any children on the ship? They hadn't seen any new ghosts... maybe they hadn't come ashore yet? Maybe they had, maybe they'd...

The woman shushed the children again, and smiled faintly at Nel. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrogate you. It's just that it's quite rare that the living wash up here. My name is Eirene. Will your ship notice you are missing and dock?" Despite Nel's protective stance, she seemed to understand that Caelum lacked clothing, and as such, unwrapped the shawl from her shoulders and held the long, heavy woolen garment out to him without a word. It was certainly big enough to cover him up, and Eirine folded her arms around herself once more.

The ghostly children looked at the Konti and the Ethaefal with interest, some of them sneaking sideways glances at the two survivors. That, apparently, was enough of their behaviour for Eirene, who quietly addressed the children. "Go talk to Ophelia and Percy," she told them. "We'll resume our lectures tomorrow." The children looked like they wanted to complain, but they thought the better of it, and the pack of them, though casting long glances backwards, departed in the direction of the Lighthouse. Eirene watched them go before turning her attention to Caelum and Nel, smiling faintly. "Come with me. I'll see you dried off."

"You likely know where you've landed, I suppose," Eirene glanced at the pair of them as she started down the beach. "Welcome Dira's Citadel... Black Rock."

[Nel Sayo]

"The ship didn't sink," Nel assured the little girl, a weary, but genuine, smile threatening one corner of her mouth. "I think it just needs to turn about, that's all."

Eirene's smile only inspired the expression fully onto Nel's lips, something like relief there in its curve, as she stepped aside to let Caelum take the shawl and put it to good use. She glanced up at him, as though to be sure that he knew what to do with it. He had horns; who the hell knew what he might or might not use a shawl for?

She was quick to keep up with Eirene once the woman started moving, bare feet sloughing through the sand. As an afterthought, she started gathering the pale spill of her hair to wring it dry between her hands as they walked.

"I've sailed past here before, but we never put to port. I'm sure the ship will come around once they figure out where we must've headed. It's the only land for miles. I guess I just never actually...knew..."

That there were actual ghosts just...chilling. Here. Enduring lectures and things, Gods, what an awful way to spend one's afterlife. Nel kept that particular thought to herself.

"Anyway, thanks. The storm came outta nowhere."

[Caelum]

The shawl was accepted with frozen hands, ancient eyes that were more than a little bit lost making a study of Eirene. "My thanks," his told her sincerely, the words too thick, too cumbersome for a mouth accustomed to lighter language. He drew the shawl over his shoulders and it's long folds draped down, covering him very respectably nearly past his knees. That accomplished he began walking, each step a little coltish, a little awkward and new in this foreign place, following them because he clearly had no idea of what else to do.

Eirene's words, however, finally permeated the tragedy-sodden cells of his brain and he blinked, mouth shifting. "Dira?" Of course Dira, goddess of death, scythe-wielding keeper of cosmic balance. Where else could he have washed upon the shore of? Where else indeed.

He fell silent, listening to the girl who had hauled him free of the ocean speak of ghosts and escapes.

[Cayenne]

Eirene nodded with some degree of satisfaction once Caelum was wrapped in her shawl, and the trio continued down the beach. She seemed to have some idea of the Ethaefal's walking, as she was inclined to take it easy. "Not many dock here," she agreed as the occasional gust of wind tore at the bun at the back of her head, held in place with two sticks of carved driftwood, almost like a pincushion. "Mostly merchants... but some pirates do, before they continue their wars on the seas. But don't worry too much about such a thing. They do not continue here. They know better. Dira deemed Black Rock to be a sanctuary. No battles may be fought within ten miles of its shores. The consequences of failing to obey this rule are severe."

She led the pair away from the rough beach, then, traveling up a mild slope along a walkway of petrified wood towards the city. The wood itself was smooth and worn-down from gods knew how many centuries of wear and tear and sand. The city, if one could even call it that... seemed to have been designed by a single-marked architect, except for where some bolts of brilliance had poked through the monotony of the city of marble in the shape of towering buildings that disrupted an otherwise even landscape. It didn't look to be remarkably confusing for all of its uniformity, but there were few to no clues as to what was contained within each building on the smooth streets. Ghosts of all shapes and sizes roamed, through the streets, and the living... didn't seem to be remotely concerned about them - as if they were simply living people and were no different from anyone else who walked and lived and breathed. But Caelum himself garnered some attention that the ghosts did not, and there were even a few second glances at Nel.

A black-robed woman was crouching beside a female ghost, who was weeping uncontrollably, clutching a bloody body in her arms, trying to comfort her quietly. "Those who die sometimes have some mark on them to explain how. She died in childbirth, and so did her infant," Eirene glanced at the pair. "She's new here. You can always tell the ones who are new... both living and dead." The streets had patterns formed in them of black and white, twisting, complicated designs in the stone. "Watch out for the canals, by the way. Every hour, they change their course. Those who get stuck usually need an Omen to rescue them. They go by the clock on Dira's Spire," the woman pointed in the distance at a monolith with a massive clock on its face. The face of it was well lit, and the newcomers could make out the numbers that indicated the time.

They stopped by one of the white, tomb-like buildings, then, and Eirine pushed the door open. The door led down a few steps into a low, wide building that was at once warm and welcoming and cozy - quite different from what was outside. There were numerous shelves covered with neatly-organized bolts of fabric, while mannequins displayed clothing of all sorts that was already made, with additional garments neatly folded in stacks by them on shelves and tables, sorted by type and size. There was one woman sitting on a sort of raised platform, talking quietly with -what else- a ghostly woman, sewing all the while. "This is the Shroud," Eirene explained. The seamstress looked up at their arrival, smiling and waving before setting her work aside and getting up, stepping lightly over the platform. "This is Zynna Kelane. She owns the Shroud," Eirene made the introductions. "They're castaways," the blonde woman told the Benshira, as if that explained everything.

Maybe it did.

Zynna nodded in understanding, and studied Nel and Caelum. "Do you have any particular styles you prefer?" she stretched her hand out towards the neatly folded rows of clothing. Zynna had quite a bit in stock, from vests to blouses to skirts to dresses to pants - surely there was something in here that would suit them...

[Nel Sayo]

The pirate girl shuffled to keep up with Eirene as the sand receded back from the port town itself; she wrapped her arms about herself, shivering a little despite the relatively pleasant island temperature. A few times, she nearly stumbled into the human woman's heels, too busy looking around at all the shadows and shades to pay attention to where she was going. A well of sympathy opened up in her heart when she saw the translucent woman cradling her specter child, and even across thresholds and through Dira's shroud, Nel's latent empathic talents found her buckling under the weight of that kind of grief. She stopped walking, and stood watching as though she'd never move again, trapped in the same misery the ghost was, and would ever be.

But she shook herself, snapping smartly out of it, and hurried to continue following Eirene, disconcerted but focused on what she was saying about the clock, and the movement of the canals. Those details were very important.

“No fighting,” Nel murmured. “Check. And watch the clock. Double check.”

She glanced up at Caelum to be sure he was paying attention as well.

When they ducked into the Shroud, however, Nel relaxed by degrees. The warmth and general comfort exuded by the place seemed to enliven her, opposed to the cool half-life that existed in the city beyond.

So Zynna found herself the recipient of a beaming smile.

“Your shop is lovely,” she decided, as she padded to one of the rows of clothes. “Just pants and a shirt would be good for me. Maybe some shoes. I'll pay you – uh, for both of us – when my brother gets here. He'll have plenty of money.”