[Quay] And it all falls down

by **Fallon** on February 5th, 2015, 8:49 pm

81st Winter 514 AV
Mid-Morning

Silence had consumed the Quay. There was no longer the barking of a canine, no cries of cheer and merriment, the laughter and voices pitched in laughter. There was only the hollow sting of defeat, and the dulled reds upon the turned snow. Inside had become steeped in pain, least, that was the case for Fallon. The warmth of home was being ripped from them, and so she was left staring at the office wall. Her heart had become cold, numbed and muted to the emotions, the face frozen with the outline of despair. She could barely think, the mind replaying the scene once more. She wanted to deny it happened, wished to rip the memory from her and declare it little more than a dream - for any moment Orvin was going to bound through the door, tail held high and tongue lolling. But he did not, and so she was left longing for such a simple comfort.

Fallon had moved Orvin, though not far from where he fell. She would only have to glance outside the office window to see his still frame upon the low bed of firewood. She could not bring herself to go any further for the moment, the stomach had twisted and sickened when she thought of the final act she had tasked herself to do. To give herself a reminder to carry with her until the end. Exhaling, Fallon forced herself upwards, her feet dragging and heavy as she pulled herself to the door - it was effort to just do that it seemed, all her strength having vanished from her as she made those staggering steps to the door.

Her face stung, skin red around the eyelids, the eyes themselves blood shot - not that she had let others see her since her call for dissolution. She could not face them, not while her mind was so tattered and the emotions left raw. She had not even answered to Zandelia - at least, not properly. The most she could do was leave a whispered mumble through the door requesting she be left alone and that isolation would be her companion for a while. Out in the cold she stepped, boots clunking, coat hanging off her as she stepped, the door gave a loud bang shut behind her and echoed through the house. Eyes blinked, the confusion festering and holding her there as she stared, that slow march forwards as she kicked away the slush and hovered over the still corpse.

What was she to do? How could she have prevented this? Was it her fault? Should she have been more careful? The self flagellation cut her and would continue to do so, festering the longer she looked down upon the creature. It should not have been like this. It was not fair. But then again, when was life ever?

She crouched next to him, hand reaching out and touching the fur, finger tips hovering as she touched his muzzle . Her throat let out a croak, lips pursing together as she tried to compose herself and maintain some control. She spoke, slowly and quietly, "Hey boy... how you doing...? I... sorry." Fallon wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, a sniff as her fingers gripped upon the fur tensed and shook. Inhaling deeply she forced the other hand to draw the kukri and gently teased open his jaw, "I'm sorry, I couldn't... I couldn't protect you. I couldn't protect anyone in the end. Petching..." She brought the tip of the blade around, one hand holding the jaw open the other coming round to the first of the four large canine teeth, young, pristine and looked after. She placed the tip at the top of the gum, and pressed in as firm as she dared, "And now... now it's just a memory. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."

There was dried, old blood weeping forth. A slash of gum, whilst her fingers grasped around it and pulled - slowly and carefully. Wriggling it free, she placed the kukri down, using both hands to pry it free before at last it came with the thin, layer of gum and a sickening squelch from its socket. In the light of the grey skies she looked at it, and then clenched her fist around it, before at last allowing the tears once more to fall.

One down, three more to go.

by **Zandelia** on February 6th, 2015, 12:49 am

There was little that she could do for Fallon, there was nothing that could be said as would bring him back to the land of the living they inhabited together. If there had been a way she would have taken it but Dira took what Dira took, she never gave it back and Lhex supported her in every decisions he made. They were two of the biggest bastards there were she thought but they were gods and they had their reasons…perhaps. At any rate Fallon had not even wanted a modicum of comfort from her, something which stung but she could, at least, understand. She knew she was busy making arrangements for Orvin’s send off, a pyre most likely she thought considering the wood she had seen being gathered up.

“Clean at least, no remains. It’ll stink the place out for a while but I don’t imagine it will be our problem. We’ll be gone soon enough” she spoke into the empty house.

It was thus that she was left alone, with her own grief – smaller than Fallon’s but still there. Her only recourse in their current predicament was to distract herself, there was no drinking to be had or taverns to be visited. She didn’t even know whom could be trusted outside of the Scars themselves. Or rather, the previously known Scars. As such she was sitting before the fire in a comfortable chair, a small measure of wine in a cup, staring into the flames with a desire to have everything bad taken away. She sighed and knew there was nothing she wanted to do that could be done, but perhaps some things she had been putting off could provide a replacement instead. She placed her cup down and closed her eyes. Taking aa deep breath she summoned her Djed and felt out the layers she now knew existed.

“Hand within hand, self within self,” she whispered into the sound of crackling logs, “layers and layers, pulled apart, linked…” it continued as she furrowed her brow slightly and tried to manipulate, to pull at the astral layer, words providing the mantra she required for smooth transitions.

It was not something she had really thought about at first but it made sense, focus purpose in all manners – visual, audible, mental, physical. She was a novice with this gift from Fallon and she had to take things slowly, otherwise the woman would have her hide. Teasingly, slowly yet surely, she felt the fingers of her left hand begin to slip out of their bodily shell. She was breathing slightly harder, sweat dabbing her brow, as one by one they came free, peeling away slowly and without pain. All five digits curling up and out of their places – as far as she had gotten before. She paused and let them flew, their weightless and free nature making her smile, they felt no pain, no misery.

“Now…the harder part” she muttered, slipping back once more into her mantra, eye closed and all mental focus narrowed into the palm of her hand now.

It took longer than the fingers but with perseverance it began to judder outwards and upwards. She mustered her focus and power further, forming it into a lance as she set the imagery – she had forgotten the imagery! The way the bones were formed within, the tendons and muscle – or as she saw them. She was no anatomy expert truly. She formed the duplicate mentally and it began to slip out more smoothly, the palm now fully extricated and the wrist providing the anchor to her body for the astral. She could feel the connection as she thought about it, tiny little strands, as if they were cotton used for sewing, tenderly linking her removed astral to her actual body. Or perhaps the astral was her true body and the physical just a vessel of containment?

She wiggled the fingers and turned the hand at the wrist. She had so far surpassed her previous attempts, though not by much. It was something, however, and that was distraction enough from the present. She didn’t know how long she could maintain it, she could feel the pull at her Djed, the slow but sure draining away. She had to use it whilst she had it, before she was forced to return the astral to physical. She breathed deeply and thought about what she could do to develop further.

“Oh Fallon, you should be here to tell me. But you can’t be. Not today. And I can’t help you either” she sighed to herself, splitting her concentration briefly.

by **Fallon** on February 6th, 2015, 1:53 pm

Hands trembled as Fallon moved her hand across the wolf once more, the gored tooth gently being placed next to her, as she inspected the next target - the far left fang. It was hard, her entire form knotting up as she touched the froze gum once more and begun the extraction process - messy and unclean. Point sunk in carefully, slicing and creating a point of dissection, whilst the free hand begun to lean the tooth away. An addition of pressure, the tip digging into her palm as it released a fleshy pop and came free. Her arms continued to shake as she lowered it down next to the other already removed, and her head bowed.

Half way there.

Fallon released a croak, "As is the cycle. As is life and death. We are born, raised, live then return once more to ash. For that is what our fate is," She gently stroked the fur, lip trembling as she paused, frozen as she looked down upon him, "Stupid. So stupid. You should have run away, you should of." Rubbing her eyes, she sucked in the cold winter air, "Had to come to this eventually. Were you really just living on borrowed time, eh boy? Eh Orvin?" It was pointless, there would be no response, only the cold void of nothing and a dead body to greet her. Sadly, she looked down to the bottom two large canines and made her fingers to them.

Where had it all gone wrong? Where had she failed everyone?

The questions within cut at her, her mind tumbling and struggling to right itself as she stared. There was no control, there was chance of stabilisation as she brought the blade round once more. She scored into the side of the gum, hand shaking and her thumb peeling back the limp lip, a low hiss of noise barely whistling between her teeth. Her chest tightened, suffocating almost as she pressed once more into the jaw. A splutter, it popped loose and into the snow, blooded and crusted as she stared at in the cold.

Failure, those were the words that dug the deepest. She stared at the loosened fang, her throat closing up as she spied the remaining gore that had clumped about it. Her fault, it was all hers. And now she had no choice but to run away and pick up the broken pieces, and cling to what little she did have left. Her fist clenched when she thought of Zandelia, would she stay? Their dream had shattered, she had failed to bring change and lead Sunberth towards something better, there was no reason for the woman to stay with a failure such as herself. Right?

Stinging, she gathered the three removed teeth together, her thumb tapping against them, and then looked down to the last tooth. Lowering she began anew, quietly mumbling to herself, as she did, "Useless. Only good at burning out, only, only..." She could not bring her voice louder, feeling it only weaken and slip away as she brought the blade point in and begun to wriggle the final fang free. In the end there was only death to greet them, no final shout or cry of war and triumph. Everyone died the same, a snuffed out flame and a whimper as they died.

Orvin was no different.

Holding all four fangs now between her blooded fingers she stared at them, face contorted in pain, her mind no longer able to truly think. She wanted to be left alone, but she all so desperately craved a warm embrace and to be simply held - a contradiction within itself that was still struggling to work itself out. It took strength to stand, and will to rip herself away from a situation that seemed so hopeless. The kukri returned to its sheath, the fingers curling around the fangs as she stared upon the corpse. There was still work to do, was what she told herself as she stepped back into the warmth of the house. It rippled around her, but she did not thaw as she stepped through to the common room and immediately averted her gaze. Fallon could not bring herself to look upon Zandelia then, her face pinched by the cold and red from the tears. Placing the fangs carefully on the side she continued to move on through towards the basement stairs, she needed more fuel for the pyre to be, but had all but halted at the top.

She wanted to ask, she wanted to beg that the woman would stay with her. She barely managed to however open her lips before she pursed them shut once more. Her voice had failed her, and her courage was ripped from her forcibly. Her steps echoed down the steps into the belly of the building for several chimes, her form moving and shifting about as she pulled upon the stored reserves that were down there that she needed to finish this. It was chimes later than she remerged, lifting a basket of firewood within her hands and balancing a bottle of oil upon the top of it - eyes ever downwards and refusing to lift completely as she begun to remove herself once more from the room.

by **Zandelia** on February 28th, 2015, 6:36 pm

With her physical hand she flicked the fingers of the listless one absently as she wondered what Fallon's mentor would have had her do during the beginnings of her training. She knew all too well now that when projecting the astral, however small, then the limb used would be unable to respond, that it was the astral that gave it the life of movement. She reflected upon that and pursed her lips as she then touched the astral fingers with her real ones, they met and found firm ground upon each other. The astral was physical of course, she had seen it used to wield blades with ease – of course by one more skilled. She clicked the fingers of the astral and found that there was a small almost muted sound given out with the action. Something of use for the future perhaps. She clenched it into a fist and rapped the arm of the chair with a small smile.

Distraction tactics perhaps? I know the range of this magic can be longer than the reality. Fallon used it through a whole damned Brothel! she told herself, wincing at the memory and forcing it back – useful information but not really the right cerebral picture to maintain concentration.

She considered and pushed herself up from the chair, walking towards the table where the glass ball she had been gifted lay at rest. She hummed to herself as she focused, brow knitted as she prodded it a few times until she managed to cause it to roll towards the waiting grasp of her physical hand. She took it up and retreated once more to the chair to think up a way of exercising and pushing herself. She held it in her lap and brought her arm around, useless hand dangling, and tried to go through the motions of picking the ball up using the magical gift. After the first few failed attempts she realised that prodding something was far easier than picking something up. It wasn't the fact she couldn't impact upon the glass, it was the dexterity that was the problem. Moving one finger was simple enough but the complex action of gripping, moving the astral hand as a whole, was frustratingly elusive.

“Damn it!” she cursed quietly to herself after her fifth failed attempt, “perhaps...perhaps in stages?” she mused aloud.

She flexed her free hand open and closed, focusing upon the myriad subtleties that the simple act required. She spent some time indeed just feeling it out, watching the motions like a hawk. The curling and rotating of the thumb, the splaying but pointed ways the fingers clawed together at the same time. The steadying of the grip and minor shifts of the palm as it settled upon the glass orb before understanding its grip was sound. The final event of picking up the damned thing. IT was beautiful in a strange way, something she had not truly considered. She had practised fighting, sleight of hand and various other compound moves with the whole of her body but never had she been forced to just sit and reflect upon how each larger act was made up of dozens of smaller, but no less essential, motions. Fallon had been right, of course, knowing her body and what it did – how it did it – was the most basic of keys to this ability.

“Okay then,” she muttered, “ghostly hand....pick up the ball” she hissed.

She kept it slow as she moved the astral, tiny bit by tiny bit. It took a while and sweat started to bead her brow but with concentration she was able to replicate the sifting of the fingers one by one – a copy cat of reality. Or an echo of it perhaps. Once she had that reasonably smoothly under way she tried for two at a time, then three and then all four. It was difficult, she could feel it took most of her strength to do it. She then focused deeply upon her thumb, twitching it into motion and that was the easy part. The rotating of it, the latching around an imagined sphere, that was far more difficult. She took a deep breath and brought the glass artefact around and under where her astral was now.

“Hand. Pick up the ball” she instructed, repeating it over and over again softly at first.

Astral twitched into life, agonizingly slow as the mechanics met and meshed together, the fingers and thumb shifting to place itself around the glass and seeking the latching, the feeling of sure grip before the lifting. As she manipulated the astral her voice grew louder and more insistent, as if by volume and instruction she could force it through to success. It was working though, if slowly. It gripped and pulled, the glass orb seeming to levitate on its own for a few moments before it was lost and skittered away across the floor after hitting her toe. She cursed and hissed as the throbbing began within her boot. Concentration lost the astral settled, retreated and slowly began to knit back into her hand proper. Life came flooding back and blood restored with the sensation of pins and needles that served to irritate further. She sighed and took a deep breath before a sound caused her to shift her gaze – Fallon was about to leave, downcast head, and she hadn't even noticed, so lost she had been,

“Fallon, stop,” she managed to get out between hisses as she shook her hand to rid her of the sensations, “I know I can't change what has happened but...but...”

“Look, you don't need to seal yourself off and do it all alone, alright? He was a friend to me too. If, if you want any help then just ask. If you want to do it alone then okay. But at least say something. Please?” she asked, concern in her tone along with a sliver of fear.

by **Fallon** on March 12th, 2015, 12:04 pm

Fallon gave a pause at the cursing, eyes staring onward towards the front door. She had stopped in the archway between rooms, form frozen when she heard the sigh and the gaze no doubt falling upon her. Her fingers flexed around the basket handles, shoulders hunching in as she secured her grip around it. Pointless, it was all pointless. Why did she bother staying when there would only be the forced reliving, to answer the questions poised to her between hisses. She gave a small flinch when she heard her name spoken, that pleading tone escaping causing her to give that tentative glance back. Eyes were still red rimmed, her chin trembling as she tried to focus on the outline. Her throat sealed up, jaw tightening as she heard the stumbling over the hiss.

She shook. She could feel her arms shaking and her grip starting to slip as the words dug in - refusing to give and piercing their way in deeply. She gave a blink, feeling the moisture build up in her eyes as she stared upon the woman. Her lips twitched, the sensations burning within as they tried to force their way up to the surface. Her fingers began to uncurl, the green-blue orbs flickering around the room. The fire, the woman, the fangs, the pain, the injuries, the blood.

There was a clattering clunk, the basket escaping her grasp as it struck the floor. It was a slowed sweep she looked back, looking dumbly at the tilted basket and the faint groaning of the bottle as it rolled out across the floor - a slump of firewood behind it. Her expression fell, lids twitching as her form crumbled into defeat. Pointless, it was all pointless - no one cared, no one wanted to help. It was a resounding voice that pierced deeply at her, consuming in all its bitterness and refusing to budge. Slowly, she knelt, careful movements as she pulled the load back in, her composure crumbling as she stared down.

It had to be done, she could not leave him out there in such an undignified state. Her voice croaked, the dampness taking her face once more as she simply shook her head to the question pressed to her. She could not ask, what was the point in asking? It would achieve nothing, she could not fix anything. Even if she pleaded to be his friend. It was in a whisper of a voice she spoke, "Help? Help?" She screwed her eyes shut then, a deep inhale as she tried to compose herself. She wanted it done, she wanted it over and to forget about it. A wound left raw to the world and exposed to infection, "Can't... can't... bring him back," her knees gave a brush against the floor, fingers pressing across her eyes with a series of deep inhales. Her hand reached for the bottle of oil, lifting it and returning it to the basket, "I can't.... I just need to... need to..."

Gaze flickering to the side she moved, feet staggering as she made her way over to it. Her eyes fell once more upon the removed canines, and it was slowly she picked them up. There was a moment of dumbness as she stared upon them, resolves quivering once more as she tried to gather her thoughts into anything remotely useful, "Fire... need to build. Need to build." Her hand clenched around the teeth, before she shoved them into her coat pocket, "Friend. He was... yours too? Why couldn't... I wasn't quick enough. I wasn't. I wasn't. Now..." She moved onwards again. Bending, she took up the basket and took those hesitant steps to the outside once more, "Need to... Just. Burn him. Free him. Warrior send off."

by **Shakune** on August 3rd, 2015, 10:08 am

Grades Are Up!!!!

Fallon :

Zandelia :

Comments :

If you have any question about your grade, please don't hesitate to PM me

Closed [Quay] And it all falls down