pixel skylines
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
No title available
izzy's playlists!
Not today Justin
Claire Keane
h
titsay
Origami Around
Sade Olutola
hello vonnie
Stranger Things
Sweet Seals For You, Always
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Keni
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Show & Tell
i don't do bad sauce passes
AnasAbdin
Three Goblin Art
seen from Azerbaijan
seen from Azerbaijan
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Philippines
seen from Lithuania
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Venezuela
@gabbihart
"I have had...visions, yes," Cressida's brow furrowed, though her eyes stared, empty. She was seeking them out, trying to recall what had come so vividly. But now there was only haze. The Veiled One was playing tricks. "But it's unclear. I wonder...do you suppose they're connected?"
"All things are." But that wasn't helpful. "The symbol appearing twice... It means something. Goddess only knows what. But she does know, and all things are connected in her. And... I do think so."
Jericho's eyes narrowed slightly in consternation. "Deal with it?" he challenged lightly. "Easy enough, I guess, as long as it's folks we don't know. But I'll tell you, if someone gets one of my friends, I'm burning this whole town down to figure out who it was." He shrugged. "But I suppose we all have different views on action."
He shrugged and pushed off the counter. "But!" he said, clapping his hands together lightly. "That is neither here nor there, and we can both agree we hope it all wraps up speedily, yeah?" There was no annoyance in his tone, only light bemusement.
"Um... sure." She could agree to that, if only because it was easier than arguing, and Jericho's passion kind of scared her. Gabbi knew he was speaking in hypotheticals, but burn a whole city down over one person? When that person's death was so clearly in the goddess's will as to be marked with a sigil? It felt like the kind of preference to people that the twelve often warned Gabbi about. But she wasn't like this.
Nonbelievers were strange.
"I do appreciate the help. with the door, and the window. If there's anything I can offer you, please don't hesitate to reach out. I'm a hop skip and a roll away."
"Do you recall..." Cressida began, voice dipping an octave lower, "that there was another death, many years ago--" Cat's father. She remembered the night -- and that fateful morning that followed -- well. Cressida chewed on her words, mulling them over with care. "Had you seen that body, as well?"
"Eugene Miller." Gabbi filled in the name, somberly. "You were too young to have your sigil then." Gabbi recalled. "I know, because it was the year I got mine. but I was too fresh-marked then to be given such private access." And honestly, seeing the one this time, she was glad she hadn't seen it. "I hear it's the same mark. I believe it." It wasn't a mark one would soon forget. "Have you had a vision of another body?"
Cressida watched the steam rise from the loaf, swirling, dissipating until it faded away. There were many questions she held in her heart -- inquiries that would die there, unable to take corporeal form. She wanted to ask about Eden's mother, about the way her reading had unfolded. She wanted to ask about life beyond Ridge Harbor. Were there other cities? Did they worship other deities out there?
Instead, she settled for a minor transgression: "Did you see the body? The one with the sigil carved into its..." No, not its. His. It was a person that had died.
"I did." Gabbi said, after an instinctual look behind them. She felt comfortable discussing freely with one of the twelve, but it was imperative to know they were alone before she did. So although she knew it, she checked. "My Veilmother showed me. I'm sure you saw it too." She was sure it looked, to Cress, familiar.
"What about it?"
Jericho shrugged. There were worse people to be compared to, he supposed. He chuckled at her comment. "None taken," he assured. "But you see my point, yeah? Like here, take this: would you rather a new, unknown person arrive dead on our doorstops... every month. But we never know who is doing it or who the victims are. Just body after body, forever." He leaned forward conspiratorially.
"Or, would you rather it be just like... one more person we do know. Like -- that one lady who draws sigils in the sand everywhere. Tress? I think?" He shook his head. "If it was just her, dead. But as a result, we find out who the killer is, and we arrest him and that's it. No more killings." He raised a questioning eyebrow. "What then? Which is the better scenario?"
"Cress." Gabbi corrected, on habit. And yet, his point was misguided. Few remembered Eugene Miller anymore, but Gabbi did. He'd died the same way the stranger had, all those years prior. He was known- beloved- by the goddess's community. And his death had not lead to any capture, any lead. It had just been a veiled child left with no father. A good woman, too.
but if he didn't remember, she wouldn't remind him. The town didn't need the fear of this being a serial event. Even if it was shaping up to be. "I happen to quite like cress. I should hope she lives a long time. She is destined to even be our high priestess one day, and it would be a real shame not to see that actualized." Which was, of course, evasive once again. Gabbi, when she needed to be, was an expert at speaking passionately and saying nothing. "I suppose if anyone else is taken the same way, it will be the goddess's will, known or unknown. And you and I will just have to deal with it."
Cat always worked in a haze, forcing smiles, answering questions she didn't quite feel right about answering. It was a strange balance – to be one of the Cailleach's chosen, right? Cat didn't feel chosen, it felt more like a curse, it felt more like she was burdened with knowledge that was beyond herself, beyond what any of their prophets really knew.
She jumped slightly at Gabbi's approach, lost in thought at her desk as she sorted through papers. Cat wondered if she had really been suited for this, teaching, the math had always clicked in her head but it was words she found herself struggling with; maybe because she couldn't string her own thoughts together enough to feel like she was worthy of judging the words of others, even the children. "They're smart, always are y'know?" Cat hummed plucking her vision upward, away from the scrawled attempts at writing, "Their, uh, their art's the best part - they like drawin' the festivals the most, it's cute."
"Awe, I love seeing their artwork." Gabbi agreed, wandering over to the art wall, looking at some of it pinned up. She ran her fingers over the art, smiling to herself. She recognized most of the images, Bealltainn and birthdays mixed together. Joyous occasions. Nothing worrying, nothing that bore remembering either.
"They're good kids. It's because we raise them well." She made her way over to Cat's chair, joining her with a smile and an arm squeeze. "It takes all of us to do. Thank you, for your work."
@catarina-miller
"Cat," Gabbi called, grinning as she worked her way through the halls. "hi, aunt hart!" She heard from a child's voice, and she paused a second to toss a smile back towards them. "Hello, dear." But she wasn't here to see the first graders, not even the veil children.
So she waited until they all made their way out, and found a spot to park in the classroom. On a colorful rug that had probably been in this school since before the collapse. "How are they progressing? Ours?" She asked, gathering an update.
"Perhaps I am merely surprised you made it alone and empty handed, then," Cressida conceded, lilting playfulness in her tone. Moreso, she was surprised to see Gabrielle without Delilah. Mentorship between women was important within the congregation, and there was no doubt the pair shared a sacred bond -- one that Cressida, admittedly, envied. It was a small sensation, an ugly little sin in the back of her heart. She'd cast it out. It could be let from her body, like blood.
"It is only just beginning," she mused, longing for the moonlight, for some external energy source. The High Priestess grew demanding at night. She said it was when the Cailleach spoke most clearly. "I'm pleased to have your ear," Cressida redirected, the soft veneer of concern shifting across her face. "I have an inquiry. Perhaps you could help me."
Gabbi chuckled, taking the entirely accurate jab in stride and nodding. She pulled on her wheels, bringing herself up the ramp and near the altar. “I’m not empty handed.” She corrected, pulling a little bundle out of her sack on her back. A loaf of bread, still steaming. She broke it so the smell could escape faster, and left it on the table. It was certainly less than usual, but not nothing.
“you have my ear.” Gabbi agreed. If one of the twelve wanted anything from her, her ear or her soul, it was theirs. “How can I help, dear?” Because despite it all, cress was still younger. the word came from habit more than malice. Really, it wasn’t appropriate, but it was just them and the goddess right now. What safer company could a girl keep?
Jericho tilted his head side to side. "I suppose that's not a bad point. But there's a difference between knowing everyone and liking everyone." He leaned back against the counter, pressing his hands into the cold countertop. "Plus, if we know whoever pops off, there's more of a chance we can figure out who's doing the offing, you know? Like, there's no way someone from Ridge Harbor doesn't know something. When it's just randos from the outside, there's absolutely nothing to work off of."
“There you go, sounding like Eve again.” Gabbi chuckled, not meaning it in a cruel way. But it was funny, how desperate outsiders were for ways to make sense of the world. There was a simple one, a woman with every answer, and twelve conduits to share it. But they didn’t want to listen. How strange. How short sided. How human. “I think I like everyone in ridge harbor. Even all of the nonbelievers- no offense meant. I shouldn’t like anyone we know to be next.”
The midnight hour drew nearer, and so the veil between worlds grew thinner in turn. Cressida had returned from the northern shore, from divining power from the moon's light, and her own had dimmed from exertion. In place of prayer, which required so much spirit, she tended idly to the church. She tidied the pews, then replenished the altar -- replacing the wilted flowers, pouring mulled wine into a goblet, nicking her thumb and spreading the blood along the metal rim. Stepping back, Cressida took her thumb in her mouth, laving over the wound until the metallic taste faded, and she turned toward the low creak of the wooden door.
"Blessed nightfall," she greeted, tucking the weariness away. It made her too mortal. "You're early. No one else will be here until at least a quarter to."
"am I not always?" Gabbi asked, a hint of a smile on her face. The truth was, she always left her home early, but her residence was stationed on the border of Their Side. She had to travel the entire length of town to make it to pray, usually gathering friends or getting sidetracked as she went. It was pretty hit-or-mostly-miss on if Gabrielle would make it to the actual building early. "Blessed nightfall, Cressida. How was your day?"
Jericho raised his eyebrows at her overly formal commentary. "So... no," he replied, finishing off with a shrug. "I suppose that's just as good an answer as anything, though. I guess I just hope it's an isolated incident. I don't want any more bodies popping up."
He tilted his head to the side. "Though I guess I don't know what would be worse if more did pop up - if we recognized the bodies or not." His mouth furrowed. "Which d'you think would be worse?"
"I don't know." Gabbi admitted, because once they got into the rhelm of hypotheticals, it was okay not to know. The goddess knew for her, that was enough. "I think I would be very sad to lose someone I know, under any circumstances. And we do know just about everyone in ridge harbor. So... likely that would be worse." She was only human after all. Delilah often chastised her for her attachments to the other residents in town. She knew she could do better about it, but she couldn't help it. She loved this holy town.
"What do you think would be worse?"
Delilah's eyes briefly flared with a flash of divine terror. It was one thing to counsel the unfaithful, to help re-guide them back to the path if they strayed. It was another altogether to share, explain, or demystify. The Cailleach was not a mystery to be uncovered - simply one to be revered.
As soon as it was there, though, Delilah beat it back. After all, this was Gabbi speaking. She wasn't just some youngling who didn't know the sanctity with which the Veiled one deserved to be interacted with. Gabbi knew what she was doing. With that thought, Delilah stooped her head momentarily, allowing a blessed breath into her body. "Good," she said on the exhale, with perhaps the slightest of hiss behind it. "Be careful with those who don't know the Veiled One. I know you know this, but she is not a child. Those on the outside, especially those who seek to 'understand,' more often than not actually seek to destroy."
"I will." she promised, and now she was the one reaching across the table, thumbing the scar on the back of delilah's hand. They ached when rain was on the way, a bit of warning from the goddess herself. They were connected to each other, to Her that way.
Seeking to destroy. It hit a location in Gabbi's heart. a sense of fear. Vera hadn't seemed like that was her intent. She just seemed excited to hear gabbi's words. but maybe that was a trick. "Maybe you should pay her a visit." Gabbi asked, because she wasn't sure. "You know what to look for. when it comes to outsiders. And anyone could benefit from your wisdom. even her."
Jericho slid back off the counter, picking up the offending bit of metal. "I don't even know what this is," he muttered, sliding it over to Gabbi for inspection. "Could be just about anything, though. These older buildings are always revealing random bits of wood and metal. Probably nothing, but if suddenly the window starts giving you trouble again, might need replacing altogether."
He lounged against the counter, considering her point. "Suppose so," he murmured. "But that doesn't answer as many questions as it brings up. From who? And what are they saying? The weird mark on his back - was that... something you all recognized?"
"I didn't get to see the body." Which was both a non-answer and a lie. Delilah had allowed her access, but she hadn't noticed the symbol as anything anyone in the community had drawn. She'd never seen it before, and neither had anyone else. But that was the kind of admission that just stoked more fear, so she didn't mention it.
"My aunt says they will reveal more as our goddess declares it necessary to be known. All in due time. But all will be known, I can sense it. For now, we must wait." Although perhaps patience was simply something that escaped non-believers. "You'll see."
Delilah raised an inquisitive eyebrow as she poked at her stew. "The... Crowe girl, was it?" She had honestly forgotten the girl's name, happy only for her to have been punished as was fit. If she was still being useful to others, it was a blessing, but ultimately it was important that she learn the error of her ways. "I haven't spoken to her personally, no. Others have been... guiding her, from what I remember. Are you part of that? It would do her good, I think, to have someone as knowledgeable as you in her corner."
"Vera Crowe. yes." Gabbi's face visibly eased with Delilah's approval. "I believe I am. She had a lot of questions, particularly in light of recent events, about sigils. I let her touch mine." It was a very intimate thing to do, but she'd allowed it. "I was still careful. I didn't reveal any secrets." She wanted to reassure as much as she spoke. "She reminds me of one of our children. so much to learn."
Jericho wedged the knife into the base of the window, unsuccessfully prying it open. He clicked his tongue in slight consternation, attacking the siding instead. "I dunno," he ventured, his eyes on his work.
"If he was someone coming for the first time, that means someone here killed and carved him up." Finally, mercifully, his blade caused a soft click and a shard of metal dislodged from the frame. "I think it's more likely he was dropped off here as is. Which begs the question - what for?"
She listened to his thought process, tracking it. It made sense for a nonbeliever, she guessed. She couldn't imagine living without the omnipresent weight of the entity's gaze on her back, but somehow plenty managed.
They weren't as loved as her. they didn't know any better. what a crying shame.
"a message." Gabbi offered. "It's got to be." it did beg the question, what message, but Gabbi wasn't going to get into that today. "Oh, bless you. It's fixed."
Delilah smiled in acknowledgement. "Thank you. It's good to know I've got someone reliable out there." She placed a hand over Gabbi's for a moment before returning to her soup. "And the concerns don't have to just be about Eve and the man. Anyone can talk to me about anything, of course." Her eyes twinkled. Gabbi was an excellent ear for the townsfolk.
"Of course." Gabbi agreed, returning to her food a moment. the touch to her hand reminded her of something, though, and after a moment she put her spoon down to ask. "Veilmother, did you ever talk to that girl who tried to rob the high priestess?" she asked. Of course she knew the girl. "I spoke to her at market. She's... unique. had a lot of questions."
Cool. Always hungry. That didn't sound ominous-- or deliciously intriguing. Her mouth fell open at the sigil scarred in a thin white ridge over her hand. "What's it mean?" she asked, reaching out with a curious, imploring hand, wanting to examine it closer. She couldn't help herself; this Veiled One sounded both terrifying and like a culty scam, but to be marked as belonging, as part of something... the thought made her stomach flip with longing. She could pretend to like whatever hungry goddess if she could sate her curiosity for these people, be let in.
She was curious. In outsiders, that was dangerous. But her eyes... her eyes just looked like a child's. All wide and interested. Excited to learn of the joy of the goddess. Gabbi always took the veil's children into her lap, let them wrap themselves in her veil and trace her scar. She probably shouldn't have indulged, but Vera's face just seemed so similar...
"You can touch it." She said, gently taking vera's hand and molding it, pulling two fingers out and guiding them to trace the elegant lines. "You will see the mark a lot in Ridge Harbor." She almost went into the particulars of the symbolism, but cut herself off before she went quite that far. Kind or no, this was an outsider. Gabbi was better than that. "The day my veilmother carved it into me was probably the best day of my life."
