Mikele
Established
Roleplay posts: 39 
Age: 31
Equipment: Although she dresses in leather and thick hemp whenever she likes to feel that she is charge, she also wears cedar fiber clothing and wooden llamelar armor pieces for protection. She is skilled with slingshots and stone clubs/axes. She believes her ancestors invented the tiller version of the macuahuitl. Metal weapons make her a little uncomfortable.
Skills and Abilities: Highly adept craftswoman and forager. Decent leadership ability. Possesses a guardian spirit of her own, although it is not nearly as powerful as Cuate and is more akin to a family shrine spirit. She must pray and make a small offering each morning in order to summon it and invoke its power for the day.
Biography: Mikele is, timeline wise, the oldest survivor of the Imilla clan (thus far), having lived a few generations before the founding of Isra. Mikele herself is highly pragmatic and adaptable, though she shares with her clan the love of her people and sees herself as their ancestor and protector.
Mikele is attempting to stylize herself as the Imilla's second-in-command when Coatl is not around. As the weeks and months progress, she has even started dressing like him.
Mikele is a mother to a young boy named Itzal, who is fiercely independent but also a serious handful as he often gets into trouble.
Registered: Jan 2, 2022 18:13:44 GMT -5
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Post by Mikele on Aug 18, 2023 19:56:14 GMT -5
Near the outskirts of Port Argentum is a village consisting of dozens of earth mound homes. These homes are a hybrid of Imilla and Isran construction techniques, combining magically augmented mud and earth with skillfully engineered wooden and earth foundations and frames. Each home has an extended underground portion and can accommodate a dozen people if needed. The village is an expansion of the Potato Patch, where families seeking greater security and a greater sense of personal property can live. The homes are surrounded by gardens where Imilla (and their friends and allies) conduct planting experiments. The nearby forests have been manipulated to promote the growth of more seed and fruit-bearing trees in an attempt to make the land as a whole more hospitable to non-monstrous life. |
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 331
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Aug 27, 2023 13:26:37 GMT -5
There was something wrong.
Between the half-buried houses, a shadow skulked. It carried a wrongness within it, reverberating as a ticking throughout its body, sustaining it even as it harmed its soul. At times, the sound was too much, and the shadow doubled over in pain. No one would hear the ticking, unless they were attuned to the spiritual. No one would hear the shadowy steps, either, or rather everyone did, the few who noticed its passing, for it stumbled and shuffled and fell. Yet they paid it no mind. Something about the fuligin cloak swishing around the stranger made it the least interesting detail of their day. The information reached the mind, and went no further. A few conversations were had; mildly unsettled, people went on their way.
The animals were not so easily fooled. But there were not many in the Earthmound Village, and they tended to keep away from humans. A few wildcats had moved in, attracted by the prospect of small rodents and protection from the bird-dragons of the wood. Yet by struggling to avoid the people, the shadow necessarily found itself sharing their half-wild spaces. A low-pitched growl marked a mother cat not pleased with the stranger stumbling over the tree hollow that was her kittens' hideout. So now there were splatters of blood trailing the shadow's steps.
'Great,' it thought.
At times, the shadow stared with longing at the rounded doors. It was hungry. So hungry. Yet it could not enter a threshold uninvited. The half-buried town felt like a labyrinth growing around it, with few ways to catch glimpses of the indoors, and even fewer to understand from those snippets, of strange tools and woven wall hangings and cooking pots, whether this was the house it was meant to find. No way to tell. No way to ask. To be seen might mean death. The shadow's mind was nearly empty with hunger and pain and the incessant ticking. In its hand was a thin, needle-like blade, and the shadow wasn't sure how it got there. Yet it needed to push on.
It needed to find someone.
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Mikele
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 31
Equipment: Although she dresses in leather and thick hemp whenever she likes to feel that she is charge, she also wears cedar fiber clothing and wooden llamelar armor pieces for protection. She is skilled with slingshots and stone clubs/axes. She believes her ancestors invented the tiller version of the macuahuitl. Metal weapons make her a little uncomfortable.
Skills and Abilities: Highly adept craftswoman and forager. Decent leadership ability. Possesses a guardian spirit of her own, although it is not nearly as powerful as Cuate and is more akin to a family shrine spirit. She must pray and make a small offering each morning in order to summon it and invoke its power for the day.
Biography: Mikele is, timeline wise, the oldest survivor of the Imilla clan (thus far), having lived a few generations before the founding of Isra. Mikele herself is highly pragmatic and adaptable, though she shares with her clan the love of her people and sees herself as their ancestor and protector.
Mikele is attempting to stylize herself as the Imilla's second-in-command when Coatl is not around. As the weeks and months progress, she has even started dressing like him.
Mikele is a mother to a young boy named Itzal, who is fiercely independent but also a serious handful as he often gets into trouble.
Registered: Jan 2, 2022 18:13:44 GMT -5
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Post by Mikele on Aug 29, 2023 22:10:08 GMT -5
The setting sun cast oblong shadows across the village. The hot coal orange sky was slowly yielding to deep wine and speckles. The desperate shadow was running out of chance encounters that might spare it a lonely night, as the eclectic villagers were wrapping up their labors and moving inside.
Faint traces of individuality remained among their tools and clothing, as the mists had brought survivors of their land from many different time lines. Robust braids and rolls were in this one's hair. That one had overabundance of talismans. This one loved runic tattoos. And that one there really loved slingshots. Months of surviving together had somewhat dampened these antediluvian remnants, as there were only so many resources on the isles for self-expression, but it hadn't smothered them completely.
The half-buried homes looked about the same, with at best a few trinkets and baubles hanging from some crude porticos as a tongue-in-cheek sign of "status".
There were many who were, unfortunately, not spiritually attuned, despite the best efforts of some of their leadership to promote what little magical knowledge and experience survived the mists.
There was however, a turtle.
As the shadow stopped to rest at yet another earth mound, they would spot a glowing cyan presence hiding deep within some long grass. It wasn't strong; broad daylight might have choked it out completely. It could easily have been mistaken for a bio-luminescent mushroom, except even in the mists mushrooms didn't tend to move. If they approached it, an ethereal little head would rise up out of the grass and observe the entity.
From behind the earthen mound, a little boy appeared. He was dressed in animal skin pants and what looked like a crude brigandine made of plant fibers, but his hair was slick clean and he appeared well-fed. The boy was not immune to the effects of the shadow's spell. He stared at them for a second, shrugged, and trotted off...
And then he returned. Once again he eyed the shadow intently, as if trying to see through the phenomenon. It was a perplexed, intent look, like when a child came across an animal they've never seen anymore. But after a few seconds, the child shrugged and then wandered off, again.
Then the turtle bit the shadow's toe. It wouldn't hurt; the ethereal creature had no physical presence. But the turtle evidently did not care.
And then the boy came back, again, appearing exasperated. It was as if the cloak's effect was flickering on and off, and the child couldn't decide if this unimportant, unremarkable nothing was actually something rather significant.
After all, the turtle seemed to think so.
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 331
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 2, 2023 15:10:20 GMT -5
The shadow stopped what it was doing1 and drew closer to the mysterious moving mushroom. Bending down, it saw – oh, a turtle! A little spirit turtle. It was so cute that, lost in its world of darkness and pain, the shadow nearly cried.
Curses! There was somebody else there. A boy. The shadow froze, then nodded to him, and stood up to walk past. It had to fight the impulse to run. Part of the cloak's magic was in making the extraordinary unremarkable, but it took nerves of steel to play along, to become one with your goal to the point that your own presence vanished. In truth, the current shadow wasn't very good at it. Not like the previous wearer of the cloak. But something was making the magic stronger. There was no time to dwell on that. A single step-
The shadow tried stepping away, and couldn't.
It looked down. From under the fuligin cloak peeked a leather boot, the tip of which was caught in the turtle's mouth.
The shadow gestured at the boy – did he look familiar? – in a manner of 'what can you do', most unfortunately still holding her dagger. Then tried moving away again. The turtle's bite did not have enough force to break through a strawberry, yet somehow its grip was surprisingly firm.
The shadow face-planted onto the ground. Trying to escape the turtle, it rolled, to and fro, its focus fraying just as the cloak twisted around its waist. Once worry about seen started building up, there was no turning back. As emotions of the last week all thundered around its half-curled body, the shadow was no more.
What was left was a young woman, pale-faced and wild-eyed, with leaves caught in her braids and clothes of blue embroidered in red bleeding scratches on one arm. He eyes narrowed. She just remembered...Winced. It hurt to even think. At the seminar- Campfire. Silly pictures. 'Mikele,' her lips sketched.
“Please. I need to find your mother.” Nina gasped.
1To its horror, licking blood off its forearm.
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Mikele
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 31
Equipment: Although she dresses in leather and thick hemp whenever she likes to feel that she is charge, she also wears cedar fiber clothing and wooden llamelar armor pieces for protection. She is skilled with slingshots and stone clubs/axes. She believes her ancestors invented the tiller version of the macuahuitl. Metal weapons make her a little uncomfortable.
Skills and Abilities: Highly adept craftswoman and forager. Decent leadership ability. Possesses a guardian spirit of her own, although it is not nearly as powerful as Cuate and is more akin to a family shrine spirit. She must pray and make a small offering each morning in order to summon it and invoke its power for the day.
Biography: Mikele is, timeline wise, the oldest survivor of the Imilla clan (thus far), having lived a few generations before the founding of Isra. Mikele herself is highly pragmatic and adaptable, though she shares with her clan the love of her people and sees herself as their ancestor and protector.
Mikele is attempting to stylize herself as the Imilla's second-in-command when Coatl is not around. As the weeks and months progress, she has even started dressing like him.
Mikele is a mother to a young boy named Itzal, who is fiercely independent but also a serious handful as he often gets into trouble.
Registered: Jan 2, 2022 18:13:44 GMT -5
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Post by Mikele on Sept 5, 2023 19:21:33 GMT -5
The little boy jumped back as if Nina had appeared out of thin air. His senses returned to him.
He picked up a small rock and threw it at her, as if to verify that she wasn't a dream. When the rock bounced off of Nina's kneecap, his eyes grew wide and he quickly ran off shouting "mom?!"
The air was still for a few seconds, allowing Nina to take in a cool breeze and listen to what little chatter remained in the background of the drowsy village. Occasional high-pitched squeals of children were not uncommon. The spirit turtle meanwhile kept its gaze on Nina, lacking in malice, or much visible thought in general. It's little throat pulsed gently, causing a very slight oscillation in the pale blue light bathing the dirt around it.
Thicker, heavier footsteps parted grass, contrasting greatly with the little boy's steps. A warm orange glow bounced off the trees and grasses around the bend. Then, a lean, sinewy woman came from the other side of the earthmound home, accompanied by a flaming spirit bird which rode on her shoulder. She was dressed in animal hides and a leather hat which fit her much better than the last one.
"No Itzal that's not a robber that's Nina. You remember Nina." A sympathetic Mikele trotted towards the downed girl and immediately offered her hand. "Let's get that cleaned and patched up." She glanced at the bleeding wound on her arm.
Itzal bent down to pick up his turtle. The turtle was picked up, but not physically. Instead it apparated on top of his head as he bent down to grab it. There it stayed upon his head, seemingly magnetically attached, without it ruffling a single hair. Mikele smirked; she was visibly proud of her son, though it was obvious her own spirit creature was much more powerful.
"You know you could drop by and say hi when something isn't terribly wrong." Mikele gently lead Nina to the entrance of their abode. Before even entering the home, Nina would be greeted by the smells of stew, spices, and earth. She'd also hear... snoring? In the background. Someone was snoring. No, multiple people were snoring.
The home was larger on the inside, extending a fair bit underground. This dome's innards seemed to be made of a hardened, pinkish clay. The cooking amenities, the fireplace (active with a large steaming pot) and chimney, the clay and metal pots, the tools, were all located in the same chamber as a long bench built right into the side of the wall. The bench, as well as the floor in front of it, were covered in woven carpets featuring bright colors and tribal patterns. There were also shelves with scrolls, various wooden and stone carvings, and wooden toys and dolls covered with scratch marks.
Towards the back of the chamber was a short corridor leading towards what could only be guest rooms of some kinda, and the snoring.
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 331
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 8, 2023 16:51:37 GMT -5
Nina allowed herself to be ferried inside, with a last glance at the sky. Her skin was cold. Through it, one could feel a ticking that was not quite her pulse. Too...metallic. She burned with magic as one might with fever, as if to compensate for a life force grown too faint.
It made some senses painfully sharp. When the spirit bird on Mikele's shoulder leaned closer, the girl winced as if burnt. Yet when Mikele spoke, it took long moments for her to piece the words together.
“I wasn't...sure.” She finally spoke. Her shoulders slumped.
The dimly lit, soft interior seemed to reassure the girl. Her eyes fixed on the cooking pot as if bound by chains. Yet the snore coming from the back of the house startled her. Spirits? People? Had she been wrong, bringing her secrets here? She looked down at her arm. They would only do harm.
“I might kill you.” The girl spoke. Gestured. Dagger still in hand. Froze. “Phrasing.” Nina told herself. “Put you in danger,” she struggled to translate from her tired brain. “Sorry, could you...?” Very slowly, she handed Mikele the weapon. Gray would have a fit. Still, she couldn't...Her voice rung with shame. “Couldn't put it back in my sleeve without cutting myself.”
She swayed slightly on her feet.
“There is something I was not meant to see.” Nina whispered. Her eyes seemed to stare through the wall. “I feel I must do something, but I do not know what. I need...advice.” She shook her head, and paused. Remembering that the boy, Itzal, was still close by. “It's...a dark story.” Was all that she said.
Nina's lips moved, as she was gathering her words, in silence, for when it would be safe to talk.
“What do you know about necromancy?” She eventually asked Mikele.
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Mikele
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 31
Equipment: Although she dresses in leather and thick hemp whenever she likes to feel that she is charge, she also wears cedar fiber clothing and wooden llamelar armor pieces for protection. She is skilled with slingshots and stone clubs/axes. She believes her ancestors invented the tiller version of the macuahuitl. Metal weapons make her a little uncomfortable.
Skills and Abilities: Highly adept craftswoman and forager. Decent leadership ability. Possesses a guardian spirit of her own, although it is not nearly as powerful as Cuate and is more akin to a family shrine spirit. She must pray and make a small offering each morning in order to summon it and invoke its power for the day.
Biography: Mikele is, timeline wise, the oldest survivor of the Imilla clan (thus far), having lived a few generations before the founding of Isra. Mikele herself is highly pragmatic and adaptable, though she shares with her clan the love of her people and sees herself as their ancestor and protector.
Mikele is attempting to stylize herself as the Imilla's second-in-command when Coatl is not around. As the weeks and months progress, she has even started dressing like him.
Mikele is a mother to a young boy named Itzal, who is fiercely independent but also a serious handful as he often gets into trouble.
Registered: Jan 2, 2022 18:13:44 GMT -5
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Post by Mikele on Sept 14, 2023 18:57:55 GMT -5
"Oooh, cool."
Mikele gently, but firmly, gripped Itzal's little wrist before he could touch the dagger.
"Aww."
"No stabbing things until you're older."
Mikele accepted the weapon and placed it on the highest shelf she could find. She gestured inviting Nina to sit down. Meanwhile, her spirit creature, sensing the distress it was causing Nina, flew off her shoulder and into the soft flame of the cooking stew. It settled in and seemed to usurp some of the fire's role, reducing its intensity while its tail feathers licked at the cauldron brightly.
Even Itzal could tell that Nina appeared unwell. He stared closely at her with brazen curiosity. He could hear the ticking, but had no frame of reference for what else it could be other than a strange heartbeat. The glowing turtle on his head crawled down the back of his head and toward his neck, removing the faint cyan glow it projected from Nina's skin.
"Itzal, why don't you go draw with your friend Lynx? She's with her grandpa in the very back room on the left. You guys can make a little noise because he is hard of hearing, but not too much."
Itzal briefly looked up to his mother and nodded. In doing so he accidentally (and somewhat comically) re-exposed Nina to the glow of his spirit turtle, though fortunately its effect was minimal. He grabbed some scroll and a bit of charcoal from one of the shelves and trotted off down the corridor. Mikele sighed and waited until he was out of earshot before speaking.
"You know, I would like for him to grow up to be a good person, but sometimes I think I'm not the best role model. I'm a pragmatist you know. I believe in doing what needs to be done." She tsk'd at herself and offered Nina a pillow and an extra blanket. "It's safe to speak. My people believe housing elders brings good luck to a household. They're supposed to offer wisdom and blessings, but mostly they just nap."
She searched her kitchen for some poultice for the cat scratches as she thought about Nina's question. "... Necromancy... Well, I know it's very powerful... and very useful... and unfathomably dangerous. It has some things in common with our spirit creatures, but the bond we share with our creatures is consensual. It's a kind thing, not to be abused. Though, if the need arose..." She winced guiltily at her spirit bird, which chattered with what sounded like indignation.
She sat down next to Nina to begin treating her wounds. She'd use a jug of water to irrigate the scratches and catch the spillage in a wide bowl before applying a poultice.
"Coatl told me that some of... his ancestors, my descendants, survived a war caused by necromancy. Apparently it was quite devastating. Necromancy is greatly feared, and rightfully so."
As she began applying the poultice, she added, "And by my understanding of the suppression of the mists, it should be impossible in this world. But based on what you said... that assumption isn't entirely correct?"
Although her voice lacked fear, Mikele was obviously very concerned.
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 331
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 18, 2023 13:52:51 GMT -5
Nina did not wince as Mikele took care of her wound.
“I can't believe you let those ferocious beasts roam around freely,” she said. But her thoughts were somewhere else.
Pragmatic. Useful. The words stood out like blades in a brisket. Was that a hint? 'Stop talking.' A shudder went down her shoulders. Mikele had the responsibility of all the Imilla on her shoulders. 'I like you, but...' Would she really go against powerful people for a girl she barely knew? If the life of her son, if the lives of her clanmates were on the line?
Everyone was pragmatic. Everyone alive, anyway. But everyone had a line, too, between 'must' and 'shouldn't'. Nina would get to see where Mikele's stood.
“Have you ever met,” Nina spoke rarely, “magicians who could best learned craftspeople at making things?” They were talking about magic now. “Normal things. A glaze, made brighter by judicious understanding of the flame. A chair, put together more stably through a feel for the fibres.” Nina rubbed her fingers against the table she sat at. “Now, that requires knowledge too, and power, but enough knowledge can substitute for quite a bit of power.” Subtle magic. Small magic, like the one they had discussed at the Seminar. “I believe I have seen the extreme of that, or perhaps its opposite. Craft that goes so far that it may no longer require magic at all.”
She was silent for a moment.
“Except it wasn't a chair that was assembled. It was people. Dead people, sewn together into something that is not quite dead. Eyes in the wrong places. Organs in the wrong places.” Nina swallowed. “Not a clear signature of magework that I could sense-”, and Nina was good at sensing, “-but leftover auras tangled in such a way that they allowed for movement.” Nina gritted her teeth. “And of course, work.”
Nina turned to look at Mikele. She had never done so before – not properly. It had been quite obvious that the girl did not like looking people in the eyes. Now she did, and hers were piercing.
“Did you know that this is how Naoki got the stone for her mansion?” She asked.
Her voice was cold. Very cold.
“Have you helped her hide it?”
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Mikele
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 31
Equipment: Although she dresses in leather and thick hemp whenever she likes to feel that she is charge, she also wears cedar fiber clothing and wooden llamelar armor pieces for protection. She is skilled with slingshots and stone clubs/axes. She believes her ancestors invented the tiller version of the macuahuitl. Metal weapons make her a little uncomfortable.
Skills and Abilities: Highly adept craftswoman and forager. Decent leadership ability. Possesses a guardian spirit of her own, although it is not nearly as powerful as Cuate and is more akin to a family shrine spirit. She must pray and make a small offering each morning in order to summon it and invoke its power for the day.
Biography: Mikele is, timeline wise, the oldest survivor of the Imilla clan (thus far), having lived a few generations before the founding of Isra. Mikele herself is highly pragmatic and adaptable, though she shares with her clan the love of her people and sees herself as their ancestor and protector.
Mikele is attempting to stylize herself as the Imilla's second-in-command when Coatl is not around. As the weeks and months progress, she has even started dressing like him.
Mikele is a mother to a young boy named Itzal, who is fiercely independent but also a serious handful as he often gets into trouble.
Registered: Jan 2, 2022 18:13:44 GMT -5
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Post by Mikele on Sept 18, 2023 18:38:01 GMT -5
Mikele was careful to treat Nina's wound as perfectly as her patience would allow. Having a rambunctious child had made her steady even when her emotions were being riled. She thought fondly of Nina's invitation and campfire lecture, and had genuinely hoped it would lead to a more productive and brighter future for Port Argentium.
The accusation at the end still didn't obstruct her bandaging of Nina's arm, though it did make her pause for a moment as she thought how she was going to respond.
As soon as she tied off the last knot of NIna's bandage, what came out was:
"That... fuzzy-eared fecund fornicating feline mother fu-"
Her gaze flicked to the corridor with the guest rooms as she tried to keep her voice low. "I knew this was going to happen." She hissed, more so to herself than Nina. But a bit of conscientiousness returned to her. Thinking of how baffled Nina must have been, she took a breath to calm herself down. "No, no I didn't know." She folded her hands and twisted her fingers, leering at nothing on the floor.
"Though, to be honest, there's a possibility it's my fault."
Mikele got up to get some stew for both of them, in clay bowls and colorful, oversized spoons. "You'll have to forgive my anger Nina. I'm sorry. You know how I feel about magic. Everyone has a right to it, especially if it helps maintain the balance of power among the people, which if what you're telling me is true... well, yah." That ship had sailed in flames.
She'd place the two bowls of warm food at the table in between them, but wouldn't insist that Nina eat.
"When I first found out what I was and who the Imilla were, I was so determined to take charge. So, to curry favor with Lady Naoki, I offered a gift to her guardian, the one they call Grandma. It was a rare creature, along with the instructions to perform a ritual which, I've since learned, may be an ancestor of necromancy, at least in my timeline."
Her flame spirit began singing, a mournful trill to signal the coming nightfall outside. Mikele smiled sadly. "Legend has it was created to please children."
She turned back to Nina. "These spirits, they're formed through a bond that one forms with an animal. It can be pet, a wild ally, or a beast of burden. The bond must be genuine, whether it be friendship or that of a master over a submissive, or one must treat the creature like family. Then, when the creature is due to pass on, one can beseech its soul to stay a while longer and become an ally, living out the rest of the caster's lifespan alongside them in a body of pure mana. From an animal's perspective, it must seem like a god offering a mortal a second life. But, for one reason or another, not every spirit accepts, just as not every human would accept immortality. As I said, the ritual is consensual.
"I've come to accept that the magic that came since my time was, well, more advanced. It's not hard to imagine a sufficiently powerful mage taking the basic principles of shrine spirit creation and using it on a... much larger soul, perhaps even against its will, and with a more... cohesive vessel. It would take at least another step in the magic's evolution to perform such a ritual at scale. But once that's done, the only limit left is raw power. I can't say for certain this is what happened, but I imagine Grandma possesses a great deal of magical knowledge, and power, and perhaps the means to hide its presence even here in the mists. Or if not her, someone close to her."
The faint sound of giggling from a little boy and girl came through from down the corridor. Mikele smirked, again a regretful sparkle in her eyes.
"Our ancestors created shrine spirits out of love. They never intended the ritual to be used like this."
Somewhat snapping out of sentiment, she sat up and folded her arms. "Not to mention the fact that if the public finds out, it could cause a rebellion. Some of the veterans of that awful war are still alive thanks to this stupid time... flood thing. If they find out necromancy has come to the isles..."
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 331
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 25, 2023 15:31:22 GMT -5
Nina had tears in her eyes.
“It's not you.” She gently brushed Mikele's hand, when the woman put the stew bowls onto the table. Something about the story of the origin of the magic had touched her. “Not only, at least. I...” Nina clenched a hand against her chest. “One reason that I started the seminar was because I was afraid of Grandma. Mikele, she's not human.” Something in the girl's voice hinted at more than just another kind of sapient. Her eyes followed the veins in the wooden table. “I suppose I am grateful because she rescued Gray, but there were things that I saw then that...concerned me.” She swallowed. “I thought we needed to keep an eye on the other mages.” Her index finger followed a vein, until she reached a knot. “You might wonder why she was invited still. I did not think I could afford not to.”
She'd gambled. With people's lives.
“Maybe I was wrong about the magic.” Nina sighed. She'd been wrong about many things. “I only had a moment to look. But I have to say that Grandma's magic has not struck me as subtle. Powerful, yes. Flexible...well, you haven't been the only one giving her magic.” Nina's eyes narrowed. “But not subtle.”
Absently she tapped her chest. Tick, tock. She wondered if the bond she had with Gray, in which the man had given her part of his soul, was anything like the Imilla leader described. In little jolts, her other hand spider-walked across the table, until it reached warm ceramic and snapped back.
“It's not sweetvine, is it?” She asked hoarsely. She realized she was holding the spoon as if about to stab someone.
“In the hills, it's already turned the river-valleys a golden sunset-red.” Nina closed her eyes. Sweetvine bark had been a small staple throughout the summer. It would give energy when out on a hunt, and some bearable flour, but it wasn't very filling. “A rabid-looking ferret got into my food bag. So I turned to the vine.” There was a snap, like the strike of steel on flint, coming from Nina's magic. Her eyes were wide. “The more I ate, the more hungry I felt.”
With the utmost caution, Nina dragged the bowl closer and poked it with the spoon. She swallowed emptily, feeling very hollow.
“There's more. Or rather...There are moving pieces which I am not sure yet how they will fall.” Nina whispered. She wondered if the poison had washed out of her system. She wondered if the ferret had felt it. The ticking in her ears was maddening. “There's the strange, richly-dressed man who asked the fortune-teller about the vanishing people.” And had paid Theodosia in vanishing fairy-gold, but her friend would not want that revealed. “There's Vulpin. The old, masked doctor mysteriously vanished soon after criticizing Naoki in public. The current one – his daughter, creation – I am not sure – she put my arm back together when my bone looked like a blacksmith's puzzle.” Nina pulled up her sleeve, revealing a blue patch of skin. It wasn't a bruise – bruises aren't diamond-shaped with stitches. “I owe my life to both. But they are the only people I know who could sew flesh to such perfection.” She frowned. “The few people that I have been able to trace, they are reported as having died in the infirmary.”
Nina took a spoonful, and went silent. If people knew...
“It could be worse than a rebellion. It could be an epidemic.” No one would trust a healer any more.
“I...Don't...actually mind. Necromancy, you know.” Her gaze was mildly defiant. “Some of it can be...kind.” She thought of Piper's songs. Sucked in air. “Peaceful. But this, this is wrong.” She thought of what could she possibly tell that kid. The one who came to her clenching an old Seminar pamphlet. Her stomach twisted. About his missing sister, who he believed alive because he'd dug in his despair all the way down to her empty grave.
“I don't know how wrong, yet.” Nina's eyes were hard like stone, and damp. “Whether there are souls there, whether there is awareness. But I will find out. And do something about it.” Nina clenched her hands.“Are you with me?” There was a chuckle from further down the corridor. Softer, she asked. “Can you be?”
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Mikele
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 31
Equipment: Although she dresses in leather and thick hemp whenever she likes to feel that she is charge, she also wears cedar fiber clothing and wooden llamelar armor pieces for protection. She is skilled with slingshots and stone clubs/axes. She believes her ancestors invented the tiller version of the macuahuitl. Metal weapons make her a little uncomfortable.
Skills and Abilities: Highly adept craftswoman and forager. Decent leadership ability. Possesses a guardian spirit of her own, although it is not nearly as powerful as Cuate and is more akin to a family shrine spirit. She must pray and make a small offering each morning in order to summon it and invoke its power for the day.
Biography: Mikele is, timeline wise, the oldest survivor of the Imilla clan (thus far), having lived a few generations before the founding of Isra. Mikele herself is highly pragmatic and adaptable, though she shares with her clan the love of her people and sees herself as their ancestor and protector.
Mikele is attempting to stylize herself as the Imilla's second-in-command when Coatl is not around. As the weeks and months progress, she has even started dressing like him.
Mikele is a mother to a young boy named Itzal, who is fiercely independent but also a serious handful as he often gets into trouble.
Registered: Jan 2, 2022 18:13:44 GMT -5
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Post by Mikele on Oct 4, 2023 3:07:12 GMT -5
Mikele took a few measured sips of her portion while listening to Nina's reply. She didn't want to be rude by slurping loudly. She hid a smug smirk behind her spoon when she realized that Nina's seminar had served a dual purpose. The girl wasn't just learning about magic; she was keeping tabs on the spellcasters, all of them. Though they had been acquaintances at best, Mikele couldn't help but feel proud of the young woman.
Knowing that Grandma wasn't human would have come as more of a surprise if Mikele hadn't already learned about Foxgloves' existence. Between that, the snake woman Coatl had befriended months ago, the giant bee people and the more appropriately sized bee people, there wasn't much that could astonish her anymore. Then again, they had good reason to fear Grandma. Those other entities at least made no effort to hide what they were. But more than that, Grandma gave Mikele the impression of being truly comfortable with that skin, relishing it even, like a sort of indulgent bluff. Her picking the body of a frail (albeit very tall) old woman was a bit like bringing a dagger to a sword fight. Her confidence made it very clear that she didn't need anything else.
"Mmm? Oh, not sweet vine. Swamp root. It's like lotus root but, well, a little swampier." The stew would also have a strong herbal taste; Mikele had truly done her best to remove the swamp from the dish. "Better than rat fritters though, right?" Which was an accurate statement, though to be fair it wasn't a particularly high bar.
The moment Nina implied that there was a larger conspiracy involved, Mikele gave a nod of support. It wasn't even a question. She would protect her. She'd make sure the whole tribe would...
... except that wasn't quite what Nina was asking for.
Her last statement, punctuated by her son's laughter in the background, said it all. Can I? Her hands folded in contemplation. This was embarrassing. She had been so willing to help not 20 seconds ago.
She would sooner die than admit she thought about what Coatl would say in her shoes. Probably something trite like, 'If it's the right thing to do, I'm with yah.' Accent and all. His guardian spirit would probably do a twirl in the air and make them place their hands together in friendship. Blech.
And yet, had she not said a few minutes ago that she wanted to serve as a good role model for her son? The pragmatic thing to do, realistically, was to try to dissuade Nina from her foolish machinations, for both their protections. But was that really the example she wanted to set for the tribe? Not that the Imilla would find out right away, but it was likely they would someday.
Mikele chuckled with a bit of relief when she realized that was a pragmatic point in itself. This conspiracy posed no threat in the short term, but in the long run? They were looking at a possible future rebellion, or coup, or as Nina said, a cascade failure into a plague. Trust was a valuable commodity in the isles where gold isn't so readily available.
"I think it'll be dangerous for me to help. However, given the circumstances..."
But most of all, I'm not going to be outdone by a hairy carpenter and a ghost, damn it.
"I think it would be just as dangerous to not help. And given the choice, I'd much rather choose my own destiny than have it chosen for me. So, yes, I'm in."
Mikele placed a hand on Nina's and glanced back down the corridor, her voice motherly and reassuring. "They'll be ok. The tribe will protect them if something happens. In any case I'm in it for them."
The spirit bird in the cooking fire warbled in agreement.
Mikele suddenly raised an eyebrow. "Uh, Nina, out of purely academic curiosity, how flammable do you suppose these abominations are?"
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 331
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Oct 5, 2023 13:24:03 GMT -5
“Very. That's part of how we found them, actually.” Nina's hand trembled. It seemed like she had tired simply from eating. “Large amounts of alcohol being sent that way. An amphora of scrumpy, every now and then, for the handlers I assume, but most of it...Undrinkable.” Nina narrowed her eyes. “Gray says it's poison. He says that Blind Jonas adds charred wood shavings to make more of it, and that's why he's blind and weird, and that's how he killed someone. That old man was nearly arrested for it, you know.” She lowered her voice. “I think they use the bad booze to preserve the golems.”
She leaned over the table, her head tilting to rest on the inside of her arm.
“Is this the right thing to do, Mikele?” She shivered, imagining fire biting into her flesh. Would the golems feel it? “I can't do nothing.” She repeated. She found the spoon in her mouth and was shocked to realize she'd eaten half of the stew. “People are not things, to be used until broken and then repurposed for rags.” There was the sense that she had gnawed on these ideas many times. She put the spoon down. “If it was just the dyke...” Nina sucked in air. Part of the stone had been used to reinforce the shore. That would save people's lives if the silver river flooded. Would she have accepted...? But...it wasn't just the dyke, was it. The Basilica. The mansion. Large, impressive structures. A luxury of rank. Was hierarchy inherently bloodstained? “They love her, Mikele, and she's doing this to them.” Nina's voice was pained. “But if we stop it...Is she going to force living people to mine for her instead?”
Nina was quiet for a moment. She supposed that one could only fight a battle at a time. She held her tears, unable to bear the sight of someone who would risk everything knowing that she might get sewn into a golem together with the one who talked her into this idea.
“The place is about three days away, towards midday.” Nina continued. “If the weather holds. I saw five golems and I'm guessing at at least seven people, though there could be more. They seemed oriented more for dealing with the golems than with intruders, but...” That could have changed. “I might have been seen.” Nina admitted. Good thing that she'll have more help for next time. “Gray said he'd meet us outside the city in the morning. He wanted to pick some things up. I don't trust him,” Nina paused, “with packing for the wilderness.”
She shut her eyes, for just a moment, and the ticking in her seemed to quiet just a bit.
“Should we go in disguise?” She pondered.
By the time Mikele answered, Nina was breathing regularly and fast asleep.
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Mikele
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 31
Equipment: Although she dresses in leather and thick hemp whenever she likes to feel that she is charge, she also wears cedar fiber clothing and wooden llamelar armor pieces for protection. She is skilled with slingshots and stone clubs/axes. She believes her ancestors invented the tiller version of the macuahuitl. Metal weapons make her a little uncomfortable.
Skills and Abilities: Highly adept craftswoman and forager. Decent leadership ability. Possesses a guardian spirit of her own, although it is not nearly as powerful as Cuate and is more akin to a family shrine spirit. She must pray and make a small offering each morning in order to summon it and invoke its power for the day.
Biography: Mikele is, timeline wise, the oldest survivor of the Imilla clan (thus far), having lived a few generations before the founding of Isra. Mikele herself is highly pragmatic and adaptable, though she shares with her clan the love of her people and sees herself as their ancestor and protector.
Mikele is attempting to stylize herself as the Imilla's second-in-command when Coatl is not around. As the weeks and months progress, she has even started dressing like him.
Mikele is a mother to a young boy named Itzal, who is fiercely independent but also a serious handful as he often gets into trouble.
Registered: Jan 2, 2022 18:13:44 GMT -5
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Post by Mikele on Oct 5, 2023 17:06:57 GMT -5
Mikele quirked her head at Nina's verification, and took another sip of stew. If it came down to it, destroying the golems would solve a lot of problems very quickly, although it might cause quite a few in return. Dispatching them along with the evidence would not only shut down Lady Naoki's side project, it would ensure the public never found out about them, and minimize the chance of a rebellion. Really, they'd be doing Lady Naoki a favor. But whether she saw it that way was another matter entirely. Although reducing the monstrosities to ash was the right thing to do in the long run, the Empress might still perceive the destruction of her property as an act of treason. These moving parts, as Nina called them, could start to grow more jagged edges. Then again, burning things was a lot of fun. It could still be worth it. Great, I'm starting to think like my son... Ugh, I knew he got it from me. (Mikele also wasn't oblivious to risk of starting a massive forest fire.) Debating the merits of reckless arson lost some of its amusement when Mikele saw how upset Nina actually was, and how she genuinely believed the Empress might enslave people out of retaliation. She took her hat into her hands and flipped it over a few times fidget-tingly. "Well, I almost hate to say this, but I don't think Lady Naoki would resort to that. I may not know much about politics-" though certainly more than Coatl, she thought, "- but, I do know masks. Lady Naoki depends on her image as a graceful, voluptuous feline, surrounded by boorish attack dogs. Her vision of herself means a lot to her, not just as a useful tool of governance, but as an expression of her ideal self. To unleash a full on tyranny upon the population would mean giving up a treasured part of herself. That's what I believe." After thinking for a moment about how she could relate, she put her hat back on and smiled brazenly at Nina. "Besides, I... er, we are the living people. Don't underestimate us. If her cruelty ever goes too far, we'll stop her." She wondered how effective her pep-talk actually was with Nina clearly falling asleep. "Hmm, as for disguises... maybe for when we're traveling, but we might be well served leaving the village on the pretense of something normal like a scouting or hunting trip... oh." Aaaand Nina fell asleep. "Guess I'm surrounded by sleeping people today." Mikele thought back the snoring elders in the other rooms. She found a blanket to cover Nina with, then went to the back rooms to make sure Itzal and Lynx weren't drawing faces on the old people. Not that she would really mind; it would certainly make them more interesting to engage with. ... The next morning. "She's doing what?!" A well-built man with a messy beard and a hat very similar to Mikele's was standing in the middle of the room opposite her. Though he had just swiveled around and began marching out the door. "Get back here!" Mikele hissed. "And keep your voice down. Nina is sleeping." Coatl glanced sympathetically at the young woman on the couch. From behind his shoulder, the face of an aureate sylph of light popped up to observe her. The entity's form ebbed up and down slightly, and her shoulder-length hair trailed behind her momentum as if she were underwater. "Me and her are going to do some scouting." Mikele said. "If something happens to us, then you can take over the investigation." "What investigation?" Coatl kept his voice low, but was noticeably straining to do so. "Lady Naoki is clearly doing something wrong and needs to be confronted about it. Plain and simple." "Easy for you to say. We don't all have guardian spirits like yours." The golden sylph chuckled timidly. "Which is why I should handle this. You two will just be put in danger." " I'm fine and she's already in danger. She thinks they may have seen her. If the empress' people are suspicious you'll basically give her away." Coatl folded his arms, and took a deep breath. "Then I'll tell Lady Naoki I'm the one who discovered them. Or better yet, Cuate discovered them. There is no reason to put a child in danger." Wait, how old is Nina? The sylph's "voice" sounded more like an impression in one's mind rather than actually carrying in the air. Mikele raised an eyebrow. "Uh, that's a good question." She shook her head. "But, also besides the point. Lady Naoki will know you weren't the one who discovered them. They're several days out. And you're the head guardian of the Imilla tribe. You're partners with the spirit of one of her once strongest allies. Do you really think she wouldn't notice a recent week long absence from you? Or lack thereof" Mikele leaned in slightly and raised a brow. "Even with your predilection for adventures with huntresses?" Coatl rolled his eyes. He knew that last statement was (at least partially) in jest. He tsk'd and turned his head slightly. His voice turned a bit tender. "You aren't even giving Lady Naoki a chance to do the right thing." Mikele grinned mischievously. "What are you, her husband?" Coatl leered daggers at Mikele, which did nothing to dissuade her grin. Cuate raised a luminous finger . Actually, fun fact, Coatl is one of the few major leaders in Argentium Lady Naoki hasn't done the diddy with. |
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 331
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Oct 9, 2023 16:15:10 GMT -5
Nina dreamed of a feast.
She was kneeling at a low table groaning under the weight of platters. In front of her steamed meats carved into flowers, and vegetables carved into tiny scenes of hunting or fishing, and golden seeds scattered into drinks to capture the light of stars. More food was constantly being brought by silent servers, but she could not eat. No one was eating. There were protocols to observe fist, rituals to follow. At the head of the long table, clinking against a glass for attention while playing chess with their other hand and gingerly scratching its shoulder with the third, there was the hulking figure of a flesh-golem, towering over all of them, ordering the proceedings. Cat ears twitched on its shoulder. To Nina's left, Gray whispered guidelines in her ear to help her avoid execution. To her right, the table seemed to go on forever. Nina wondered if the people at the table were supposed to send the food onwards.
“What happens if there is not enough food to reach all the way to the end?” Nina asked Gray, in-between a complex glass-clinking ritual and listening to interminable toasts. 'And I had just turned my pawn into a queen,' the golem complained. The person playing chess with them smiled, their broad-brimmed hat hiding their face. 'It is cheating to set the board on fire, you know. I could have you executed.' The golem good-naturedly grumbled.
“You cannot see?” Gray asked. “Must be the alcohol. It blinds people.”
“What happens?” Nina repeated.
“They die.”
Across from her, wearing Vulpin's mask to cover her injuries, Naoki was complaining to Grandma that she needed better eyes-and-ears. Some way away, Alden, the empress's right-hand man, was advancing increasingly improbable theories about his own disappearance. Throughout all, rang the ticking of a clock.
“What happens then?” Nina asked
“You cannot see them because of the curvature of the horizon. That proves that the world is, like history, a circle. Everything has its breaking point.”
Nina was hungry, and wished the could eat soon. People around her were whispering animatedly about the servers bringing in the last dish, soon, any time now. They had been whispering for hours. “You will be put in danger,” Gray warned her. “There is always a cost.” When the platter finally arrived, carried by Theodosia, her fortune-teller friend, and by Itzal, both bound by the scars of manacles, it was placed in front of Nina. On a bed of seaweed, there was a recreation of her home, with artful waves of gelatin striking a shore of spice mixes and a rocky wall imagined from cooked scallops. Half-bound in the gelatin yet still alive, was her friend, the octopus. Nina reached out. To devour? To rescue?
“Besides the point,” the golem commented, and Nina knew she had failed the test.
She woke up.
The hard bench under her and the soft blanket around her were unfamiliar. The pain wasn't. Overuse of magic – the familiar sensation of being bruised stretched all over her body. The Clock ticked behind her eyelids. There were voices arguing in the background, one of which seemed to bypass her ears. With one foot still in the dream, and Gray's cloak still leaning against her left shoulder, Nina struggled to understand what Naoki's bed habits had to do with the rules of the game. Yet the cloak resolved into a makeshift pillow under her head, and the voices crystallized into something that led Nina to fear she was being sold out, soon followed by the unpleasant realization that she was about to be sold out...for free.
She was worth more than that, wasn't she?
“Why does Naoki get a choice about whether to do the right thing?” Nina demanded from across the room.
She remained curled while speaking, in what she hoped was a posture of confident delinquency. The table partially blocked her line of sight.
“She's had a choice for every moment of the past few months. Did those people get a choice about being...you know?” Nina whispered angrily. Flesh golems. Gestured. “Assuming she knew. We know the issue goes high, but how high...”
“No, don't you dare move-” Nina reached out as if to grab Coatl, and fell onto the ground, barely able to stop her fall. She rolled on her back, feeling like an exposed pill-bug. Beckoned the others closer. “It makes no difference.” Pointed. “Listen. You walk in there, and then...What?” She hissed. “Are you going to check that those things have no mind, no souls? That their souls, if they have them, are not repurposed for an equally objectionable purpose? That the one who made them isn't making any more? That the moment you walk out of there, a griffin-message isn't sent to relocate the mine – oh, what mine?” Nina shrugged. She struggled to hold her head straight enough to meet the eyes of the two strangers. “There are people who need our help more urgently than Isran bureaucracy needs a moral compass readjustment.”
“If you want to talk to that woman, maybe you should do it.” Nina narrowed her eyes. It might be helpful to have someone calling things out in the open. “Afterwards.”
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Mikele
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 31
Equipment: Although she dresses in leather and thick hemp whenever she likes to feel that she is charge, she also wears cedar fiber clothing and wooden llamelar armor pieces for protection. She is skilled with slingshots and stone clubs/axes. She believes her ancestors invented the tiller version of the macuahuitl. Metal weapons make her a little uncomfortable.
Skills and Abilities: Highly adept craftswoman and forager. Decent leadership ability. Possesses a guardian spirit of her own, although it is not nearly as powerful as Cuate and is more akin to a family shrine spirit. She must pray and make a small offering each morning in order to summon it and invoke its power for the day.
Biography: Mikele is, timeline wise, the oldest survivor of the Imilla clan (thus far), having lived a few generations before the founding of Isra. Mikele herself is highly pragmatic and adaptable, though she shares with her clan the love of her people and sees herself as their ancestor and protector.
Mikele is attempting to stylize herself as the Imilla's second-in-command when Coatl is not around. As the weeks and months progress, she has even started dressing like him.
Mikele is a mother to a young boy named Itzal, who is fiercely independent but also a serious handful as he often gets into trouble.
Registered: Jan 2, 2022 18:13:44 GMT -5
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Post by Mikele on Oct 13, 2023 16:18:49 GMT -5
While Nina was making her speech, her blanket behaved curiously. Nina probably wouldn't notice at first, but above her and out of sight it began folding itself.
Then, it slid off the makeshift bed and squeezed under Nina's head just as she said "Afterwards."
To which Mikele turned to Coatl and nudged his arm with her elbow. "See? She gets it."
The golden sylph floated over Nina. Her eyes were two bright oblong patches situated where normal eyes would be upon her otherwise featureless visage. And yet, despite the lack of pupils and sclera, Nina would sense that the entity's gaze was lingering over Nina's heart. But, the impression would only last for a moment. Once again Cuate spoke in her peculiar, breathless voice.
Nina has a point. Too often we betray those we wish to protect by not trusting them enough.
"Are you speaking from sympathy? Or experience?" Coatl folded his arms defensively.
Would I be wrong either way?
Coatl lowered his head and closed his eyes acquiescently. Then both he and Mikele would offer Nina a hand up.
"Fine. I'll fold. But I still prefer to solve problems head on and with honesty. I ain't used to this cloak and dagger bullshit."
"That's alright. Nina's got a guy for that." Mikele chimed.
Besides, it's too early to feel betrayed. That's why we must learn more.
"Yah, about that. Why don't we know more?" Coatl asked. "How was Naoki able to keep something like this from us? Our villages aren't exactly crawling with inquisitors."
Mikele bit her lip, reluctant to give her political adversary any sort of praise. "Maybe that's the point. Literally the first thing you did as guardian was speak to Lady Naoki about the Imilla's safety and independence. And with my knowledge of earth construction and yours of carpentry, we don't actually need much stone. Some people are kept in line by fear. She's keeping us in line with trust."
Coatl seemed slightly taken back by Mikele admitting he had done something right. "We'll see how long that lasts if we don't do something about this." He folded his arms again. "Maybe we trust her but she clearly doesn't trust us completely."
"See now he's getting it." Mikele chimed again to no one in particular.
"Well, since Miss Cat-Ears will get suspicious if I leave town, maybe I can investigate around Argentium under the guise of a personal project or building inspection or something. Might as well put our trust to good use."
"I thought you didn't do cloak and dagger bullshit."
Coatl grumbled to himself. Mikele seemed to relish in his every negative reaction.
Pst.
Nina would hear Cuate’s voice in her mind. But this time it felt like more of a whisper, more personal.
There are some people in the world who need cajoling to do the right thing. And then there are those who will do the right thing in a heartbeat, but need to be convinced of what that actually is.
Mikele and Coatl had started bickering over some minor details about sneaking around town. If Nina observed them carefully, she might notice a slight resemblance, almost like cousins. They certainly bickered like siblings.
You know, I've never once brought this up to either of them. But, because of the timeline shift caused by the floodwaters, there's actually a very good chance Mikele is Coatl's ancestor... and... maybe mine too.
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