birdsong

Ilona. Fire attuned. 81 year resident. If flowers can teach themselves how to bloom after winter passes, so can you. — Noor Shirazie

[ilonafinch]

kazxraval​:

.

Kaz was particularly private and particularly prickly about people in his shelter, for good reason. This person offered no apologies. They chose to lecture like a schoolmarm on the dangers of startling a fire-attuned. “If you had flung fire in my face, I’d have no choice but to fling this back.” Tap-tap-tap of the knife once more. Which did get her attention and brought a prompt end to the scolding. 

Kaz put the knife away. It was only a threat but it worked. He looked around the space but everything seemed to be in order. “This is my shelter, mhm.” He confirmed, with a substitution for the word home. “I like to be on my own.” I am on my own. Kaz came and went as pleased, everywhere, even on the farm. Stepped into and out of island life as he chose. “Don’t want any neighbors either.” 

She had brought the fire closer and it had illuminated her face before her hands lowered, marked with old and new burns as they were. Kaz narrowed his gaze. “I’ve seen you around the island.” One of the oldies, but different. “You were in the Labyrinth, yeah?” 

“And it’s kind of late to be looking for a new place to crash. Should you not do it in the day, so you’re not sneaking up on people?” Said the guy who roamed much of the night. But he wasn’t trying to slip into people’s tents and houses either. “Since you’re here… mind using your fire magic to help me re-light my fire outside?” He could do it himself, but it was also a good way to get her out of his damn shelter.

《✧》 

“Ah, well, I suppose it wouldn’t have ended in either of our favor then,” she says, eyes flicking from the knife to his face. A moment passes, and it’s only when he puts the knife away that she lets out a breath. “Apologies then. I didn’t think anyone lived in this area and I was exploring. There’s always something new to find, no?” She’s not looking at him anymore as she says it, looking instead around the little area they stand in. At first glance, it seems sparse and only loosely inhabited, but she can see traces of the brisk man among the items.

Don’t want any neighbors either. A laugh escapes her. “I have no wish to live in a cave. I don’t mean it as an insult to your home either. But I’ve lived in the trees for eighty years and I don’t think I could stand so much stone and so little breeze.” As if to argue this point, the breeze blows sharply then. Her flame flickers and she shields it with a scowl. “Well, perhaps you do have a strong breeze. Cliffs and all.”

She nods. “Labyrinthian,” she states, the word clunky and all the more amusing for it. “I suppose it’s obvious? You’d think this many months among your group and I’d have figured out how to navigate among them with less waves.” Ilona studies his face, trying to pin a name to it and finding none. Trying to find an age, and finding none either. “You’re not new to the island, are you? You have a certain... Ah, there’s no polite way to say it, but briskness?”

He isn’t wrong. Her arms cross, one hand propped up on her elbow to keep the flame between them. She lightens it some, wary of the light attracting attention and almost laughs again at his words. Wasn’t he the one who snuck up on her? “I’ll crash on the beach in a few hours and wake with sand in more places than anyone prefers. But until then I wanted to explore. I don’t sleep easily at night, the Labyrinth taught me better than that.”

Ilona blinks at the suggestion and follows him outside with a faint shrug. “I suppose you don’t have to worry about attracting attention here.” Crouching, she adjusts the pieces of wood on the fire, rapidly putting the fire together with the ease of someone whose done it a thousand times. Aloud, she says, “What do you think of this beach versus the one you left behind?” 

[ilonafinch]

libbyblum​:

She and Ilona have always had different types of small talk – Ilona’s from the Kimiko-era of things, where it’s all politeness, ‘wonderful weather’ type of things. Libby’s attempts at gossiping have not been especially productive over the years. So she’ll take the pleasantries and mom-chat. “So weird,” she laughs a little, slicing off a little bit of mango and handing it to Flora, who happily snatches it up in a chubby hand. “Sometimes when it rains, it’s so loud on the roof that I wake up having no idea where the hell I am.”

She still remembers that first night on the Leander, reaching out and touching solid (or, well, solid-ish, considering the ship’s eventual collapse) walls and hearing the echo of her footsteps on that old, creaky floor. “Sometimes when bad weather rolls in, it’s like I’ve got to manually remind myself to go home rather than looking for shelter under a tree,” she admits, pausing in her chopping to watch Flora, smiling when Ilona’s little wave receives a round of applause, Flora’s sticky hands clapping together as she bounces excitedly.

Libby sighs, though, at the mention of chaos. “Yeah, well, so far so crazy. I mean, at least she’s got a house, don’t get me wrong. But with the… creature-thingie and everything…” Her lips roll together and she shrugs. “I dunno. Stakes are so much higher with a kid in the game. I guess it should be familiar, right? Considering Lily and all. But it still scares me.” She’s not afraid to admit that. It’s only fair, in the wake of everything. Speaking of… she levels her gaze with Ilona’s before the woman goes supply hunting. “How’re you, by the way? Post… beast, or whatever they’re calling it. Who cares.”

Her pale brows dart up when Ilona makes an excited declaration but then Libby laughs. “Thar she blows,” she says in her most pirate-esque voice (not a great attempt) then gets back to chopping. “Fuuuuck mushrooms,” she agrees, finishing up the mango chopping and giving another piece to Flora though she probably shouldn’t. “Onion. Yeah, onion. It’s… uhhh…” She squints around. “Somewhere.” Some things are stored under their table of knickknacks and Libby ducks under there, rifling around. Flora, meanwhile, stops chewing on her piece of mango, considers it for a moment, and tosses it squarely at Ilona. Then belly laughs at her own hilariousness. 

《✧》 

“I certainly don’t miss the grubbiness of living out there. But I do miss other things. How close everyone was. How much we trusted each other. Perhaps for lack of a better option, but trust nonetheless.” It’s hard to feel the same serenity here when this faction of the island seems ready to fall apart at the slightest gust. Cults (though she knows little about this particular event, having only heard sparse details), and murders (this she heard plentiful about if only from gossip), and betrayals. Ilona rubs her face. “The Labyrinth was chaotic, but I didn’t fear it as much as I did other people.”

Libby, however, has found her place. The Labyrinth and the people in it were her home, but there’s a softness to her now and a different ferocity from the one she knew. She watches Libby now, a thoughtful frown on her face. “We did well by Lily out in the jungle,” she points out. “So we can take comfort in knowing whatever it’ll fling at us, we’ve faced worse.”

Ilona’s lips flatten as she meets Libby’s gaze. “I have foggy patches. I can’t discern whether things are lost because I am old and have seen many things, or because the beast gobbled them up.” She doesn’t like knowing something was poking around in her head, fishing and digging for details she can’t recall.

Though the thought of it brings another to mind. She chews her lip and then says, hesitantly, “I was quite lucky, you know. I almost walked into the light like a hapless bug. Someone whisked me out of it, though I can’t recall whom now. Do we know any of the fallen?” She doesn’t like the sad turn of this conversation. But neither of them have shied away from the topic before and Ilona won’t start now.

“It’ll come up, it’s just-- Ah, I see,” she says as mango slaps her in the forehead. She holds out a hand to catch it as she drops, an amused smile tugging at her lips as Flora giggles with childish delight. “You are certainly no worse for wear after your time here, aren’t you, darling?” Ilona discards the mango, but moves to crouch next to Flora, tickling her stomach gently. Flora laughs some more, tiny fists batting against Ilona’s hands, and she’s struck with a memory strong enough to freeze her in place. Soft hands, her daughter’s voice. A shared laughter.

She sits there, still as a statue, until it passes and she lets out a small sigh, straightening up. Her arms cross, plowing through the question that she’s waited to ask. “What of Thulani and the others? Are they...” She rolls the word threat around on her tongue, a flash in her eyes, before settling on, “friendly with the idea of Flora staying with you?”

[ilonafinch]

Do you consider yourself attractive to others? What would you want someone to notice about you?

"I was a very handsome woman prior to the island and I don’t think much has changed in that time. Perhaps a bit older, a bit harder, a bit scarred. But not so much that I consider myself unattractive.”

Ilona finds the question funny. The first one she responds with an air of laughter, but the second brings a hum to her lips as she considers how to respond. “I don’t know what I would want someone to notice. I do take good care of my hair. I imagine anyone would appreciate people noticing that. Oh, to feel the fire and serenity for someone again, and have it returned!”

Is it sufficient? She hums again, thoughtful this time. “But I would want someone to notice anything or everything so long as it’s true. Or fun. I’m not opposed to simply living.”

[ilonafinch]

aureliemarchand​:

Aurélie doesn’t touch on the would-be promise. Frankly, she’s not sure she’d go jumping into the fire for the other woman, either. No, in fact, she’s quite certain she wouldn’t. Perils have been abound enough for her lately without her taking them on voluntarily. So she nods, staring into the fire. “I thought, perhaps, that there may be a path through the tree. Much like there appears to be between the lagoons, yes? But… I have my doubts. Fire is far more destructive than water.”

She speaks from experience, from an attunement switch, from her own hands scalding Emre’s skin, from the air leaping with flames spawned by her own anger. But Aurélie says none of that. She just turns her head to look curiously at the other woman. “Is that the way in which you marked graves? In the jun– the Labyrinth,” she corrects, trying to keep on castaway terms.

Finally, Aurélie looks at Ilona, taking in the woman’s scarred skin, her scarred… expression. Not by injury. By time. By the things a person sees in a place like this. Aurélie nods at the mention of miracles. “Meridium is prone to those, I have discovered,” she responds, speaking from experience once more. Family she’d met only on this island. Reunions after nearly a decade. Miracles with a dark side. 

Much like this conversation has – with haste, it seems. Aurélie considers the perspective and nods. “I certainly prefer closure. Lingering hope hurts more than most pains, I have learned.” A candle lit each night. Long looks toward the jungle. Years of waiting. 

She looks back toward the Heart Tree then, takes in the shapes and shadows of the fire that she can see. “Eighty years,” she echoes. “Our tenures on this island are similar, then. Where do you come from? If you do not mind sharing.”

《✧》

Ilona thinks most people feel that way about fire. They see the destruction and the burns rather than the warmth and the light. Once, it bothered her. Today, she inclines her head at the woman’s words words. “In this case? Yes, it’s far more difficult to walk through this fire than it is to walk through the water equivalent. But a path, you say? I can think of many who would take the risk if it meant knowing for sure. I am not one of them fortunately.”

She appreciates the switch and offers her a smile. “Yes. I never knew if we’d come across those same trees again, but it seemed a way to immortalize them. Someone will come across those names and - I hope - know they lived and loved. Even if the person reading them doesn’t know or remember.” She isn’t sure if any were lost to the beast or time.

Her brows suddenly bunch and she sends Aurélie a quizzical look. “What are the customs here? Stones? Trees? Viking funeral?”

Do the people on the beach have such problems? They must, if Aurélie’s expression means anything. A young face with beauty in spades, but her eyes can’t lie. Old, fathomless. Unless the loss predates the island. Ilona dismisses such wonders at Aurélie’s words. “Indeed. I hope to someday see familiar faces once more.” A pause, her brows furrowing, before she amends with a rueful smile, “Well, perhaps not hope. I love the island, but that’s a rarity, is it not?”

She nods. “Yes, I’ve always thought the same. Let a wound be clean and swift, I have no wish to prolong it. But I suppose there’s some things that are... impossible to be clean or swift, hmm.” It’s easy to talk, she realizes, looking away. Harder to know what will happen in the moment, awaiting the fall of the axe.

“I married an American man before the island and lived there prior to coming here. I suppose that makes me American, no?” Prison gave her little notion of it. Ilona rubs her forehead, thinking, and then elaborates with a sigh. “I was born in the English country side and spent most of my youth there, but I confess I don’t consider myself to have a before in the sense you might be asking.”

She looks to Aurélie with a thoughtful expression. “You said our tenures were similar. May I ask how long you’ve been here then? If it’s too hard a subject, you are welcome to dismiss it. I know the world was a frightening place when I left it.”

[ilonafinch]

theo-delaurier​:

Location: back into the jungle  Time: early morning Closed with @ilonafinch

There was never a time when Theo truly wanted to enter the Labyrinth, but necessity forced her in past the treeline often enough. There were herbs that were harvested there that she needed for her poultices. Ilona, too, needed plants from the jungle to make her thread. So once again they were back. Only this time, they knew there was a shapeshifting looking to eat their souls, wipe their memories, and then burn them alive. No big deal. Just another day on the island. 

The first twenty or so minutes they passed in comfortable silence, treading lightly. They had reconnected a bit over the castaway dinner, where they planned to make the trek back out. They kept their voices pitched low, not wanting Lily to get wind of the idea. She was more than capable of handling herself, Theo knew, knowing that she would have ended up walking into the fire if not for Lily bringing her to her sense. But the island wanted Lily, for what she didn’t know, but she doubted it would be anything good. Moreover, it had been years since Ilona and Theo went on a foraging trip together. 

They were kneeling down, side by side, to gather some aloe when Theo tried to coax the plants to come up just a bit more so make it easier to cut when the surrounding pebbles burst upwards in a flurry of dirt. 

“Motherfu-” Theo began, before turning quickly to Ilona. “You okay? Sorry, I should have warned you. Ever since the switch, the rocks seem to have a mind of their own.” 

《✧》 

“If you think about it, it’s best we’re in here rather than sending someone else along on the errand. I prefer doing over waiting for someone to find.” Ilona kneels in the sand, carefully extracting some of the aloe, when the Earth retaliates from their rummaging and spits dust into their face. Her eyes squeeze closed for a second and she blinks rapidly.

“No, no, this is fine, this is what I expected when--” She sneezes. “Excuse me.” Running around the Labyrinth brings back memories. This is irresistibly normal.

Flicking dirt off her hands, Ilona resumes trying to dig the aloe free. “I’ve heard people say it’s a difficult to adjust with their attunements after the switch. When I became fire again, it was terribly quiet. I didn’t like it myself.” Not even a little bit. Once she got used to the bustling noise, Ilona found she can’t stand slipping into silence again.

A pause, and Ilona peers at Theo with an amused smile on her lips. “Lots of gossip I wouldn’t want to hear again. I don’t miss those days in the Labyrinth, knowing everything and pretending that we don’t.” In too close quarters, it’s politer not to point out things. Like illnesses, lovers, or angry fights in the night.

Behind them, a bush ruffles and Ilona leans back on her heels, peering into the shadows. “Should we be afraid to say hello?” she murmurs, voice pitched low, slowly straightening until she’s crouched, half poised to sprint if needed. It’s a familiar pose. Another noise, this one from the tree nearby, and she tilts her head to look at it. A bird shoots into the sky, disappearing. “Well, that’s anticlimactic, but still unsettling.”

[ilonafinch]

Have you ever been in love?

“More times than I could count! I can’t say it’s ever ended well for me, though.”

[ilonafinch]

What are 3-5 of your character's most common expressions/looks? Gifs, pics, description, whatever!

I’ve got genuine happiness, childlike interest, showing her age, the Big Sad, and the Stare.

When she’s genuinely happy, she has this little smile and ducks her head. But when she finds something new or hears something interesting. Her expressions are exaggerated, but truthful. This is how she looks when talking to kids, too, but that’s to be expected. She loves kids.

When she’s about to drop a bombshell on you and/or irritated with you and it’s your fault vs when she’s actually upset. 

The Stare. Random words and chatter paired with a piercing stare afterwards. You should know what it means when you see it.

[ilonafinch]

Do you feel like you have a 'purpose'? What is it, if so?

"Must I have a purpose? Is it not enough that I'm alive?" It was, once. Since joining the rest of the survivors on the beach - both of them - Ilona can't find the same peace in taking things one day at a time. She shrugs lightly, looking for an answer in her clasped hands. "If I must have one, let it be learning something new. With all these people and all this time, it'll be the easiest thing I've done, too."

[ilonafinch]

WHAT COLOR IS YOUR AURA?

YOU ARE CHIC BEIGE

•  You love a challenge, and try out anything that peaks your interest. You think you can learn more from experience than from textbooks.

• You don’t find much merit in anything you can’t enjoy right then and there. You prefer to live in the moment than anywhere else.

• You value efficiency. You like people who get straight to the point rather than those who go on and on with their long-winded speeches.

• If a problem occurs, you try to find a solution as as soon as possible rather than spend time moping.

• You have a lot of friends and acquaintances. You may not open up to every one of them, but you have a knack for remaining on friendly terms with everyone.

SPECIAL

You have the special ability to jump into things that require courage without hesitation.

[ilonafinch]

WHEN: morning WHERE: near a farm @sandrabarrow​

New faces are simply new faces after a point. Ilona can squint, shake hands, ask for names, and still not be any closer to memorizing the lot of them. The difference is this one and the answers she holds. Or doesn’t hold, if that’s the case.

Truthfully, Ilona only notices her in passing. Juggling a basket with fruit on one arm and a handsomely bound book she pilfered from the train with Siva, she notices her. She snaps the book closed and turns on her heel to approach the woman. “Fruit for your thought?” she asks, swinging the basket and its contents in her direction.

She smiles brightly. “Hi, I’m Ilona. I don’t recognize your face at all so you’re not one of the Labyrinthians so I don’t know if we’ve met. Likely not, I vaguely remember most people and I don’t really remember you at all.” She doesn’t know what the other groups call each other and she doesn’t attempt to figure it out. It doesn’t matter, really.

Someone rushes past them with a shout and bumps into her shoulder. Basket and book go crashing to the ground. She doesn’t notice if any of them hit her, rubbing her back where their elbow connected with her spine. “Sorry! Sorry! Some people are so impatient, they don’t think to wait.”

[ilonafinch]

serendipitysiva​:

࣭ .     ࣪   ✷   ࣭  ࣪  ࣭  

Ilona is right, of course. They can’t resist the beckoning of a mystery or peril. Being here as long as they have, the act of living begs to be earned. Meridium has a way of forcing its inhabitants to redefine how they find value in life—Apparently, Siva’s method is dodging Tetanus while exploring alongside the ever-capable, Ilona Finch.

Ever-capable, but not a one-woman show.

Siva reaches out and offers to borrow the flame from Ilona and free her hands. “If you were going to hide something in plain sight, would it not be in the lavatory?” A minimal amount of sincerity makes it through to her words. She aims to keep their spirits light in the event their adventure is not a fruitful one in the materialistic sense.

The faint outlines of the dilapidated benches, all pushed to one side or the other, come into focus now with the lighter in her hand. She glances around, giving Ilona space to open the crate that caught her attention.

“This is the baggage car, I’m assuming. Some trains used to have toiletries for the crew in the baggage car, which is making a lot of sense why I’m this close to puking my dinner back up.”

She bends down to illuminate the workspace for Ilona. As she crouches, the faint sound of metal creaking from a distance enters her field of attention. The flame dances under her shuddering breath.

《✧》 

Ilona passes over the lighter without complaint. It requires a tad more concentration to keep the flame alive without its nearness, but she’s got practice enough to keep the light from flickering and it dims only slightly. “I hope you’re wrong. I’m not sifting through actual shit for treasures, there’s nothing so important here,” she says seriously. Then, pausing, her gaze darts to Siva’s over her shoulder and she can’t help the snort to escape her. “We’re going through the loo, Siva. Truly the island has left us addled.”

The laughter eases some of the tension in Ilona’s shoulders. She opens the crate near her, peering in the depths, and then slams the lid closed with a gag. “Not this one, no. There’s another one here.” Ilona makes her way to the next one, trusting Siva to follow. The flames illuminate a narrow crate with a half-broken lid. If it weren’t for the strange glint inside, Ilona wouldn’t have picked it over some of the other crates in better condition.

She pries it open, tilting some for Siva to peer over her shoulder. “It’s a book,” she says, reaching forward to lift it from the crate. It’s old, the leather worn beneath her fingers. Metal is clipped around the corners and it was the source of the strange light. “Why on earth did someone hide a book in the loo?” Ilona shifts to show Siva with a raised brow. The suddenness of her movement sends something like a card falling from the book to land on Siva’s foot.

A creak sounds, and Ilona dismisses the card. As the sound grows closer and closer, she reaches over and pinches the flame out. It stings her fingers, but she ignores it. “Someone is coming,” she says quietly, straightening up and fumbling for the door handle. “Something tells me we’re not supposed to be here.”

Leaning on it with all her weight, the handle gives and the door creaks open loudly. Ilona holds it open just wide enough for her and Siva to slide through it. They are outside in fresh air, wedged between two of the train cars. “Can you get the next one?” she asks, sucking in a lung of clean, unbroken air as she yanks the door closed again, trying to time it with the creaks further down the train.

[ilonafinch]

aureliemarchand​:

Aurélie wasn’t truly here to make conversation, but she’ll take it, unable to keep back a small smile as the other woman assures her that she isn’t here to fling herself into the flames. One of Tomas’ wife’s castaway-folk, this one. There’s a name on the tip of her tongue, but those have been fragile at best lately, quick to melt away like a snowflake might. So she doesn’t try for a greeting.

“It is not my intention, but if I do begin to wander forward, you have my full permission to tackle me as you please,” Aurélie replies, keeping her gaze ahead on the tree. It only pulls away and looks toward the other woman as things get more solemn. Her head shakes. “No. Not that I know of, at any rate. I do not know if anyone has the full count, truly, given the fog of everyone’s memories… I suspect that in a way, they are waiting to see if anyone will wander out of the jungle after having forgotten who they were.”

But it wasn’t just a matter of forgetting, was it? It was forgetting and also that terrible compulsion, the one that had her standing at the mouth of the cave on North Beach, almost ready to jump in. “A foolish part of me thought they might walk back out of it,” she admits abruptly. “Emerge from the flames.” Then she pauses and defends: “We have seen stranger things, surely. Have we not?” No, really – have they not?

《✧》 

If the woman intends on leaping into the flames, Ilona doubts there’s a single thing she can do to stop her without toppling into them as well. No part of her is willing to sacrifice herself for another person, least of all a stranger, and she tilts her head. “I’ll do my best to prevent it from getting so far,” she says instead, because it’s politer than sorry, I don’t think so.

Her expression brightens some at the possibility of people exiting the trees. “I’d be quite happy to see it. If so many of us can survive in the Labyrinth for as long as we did, I imagine others will find their footing. It isn’t so bad.”

A pause. Ilona reconsiders her words and sighs, gaze moving from the tree to the woman. “Well, you grow numb to some of the dangers. I certainly did. But, yes, I hope they did. I don’t wish to carve anymore names into tree trunks. Much as I like the possibility of someone coming across those names and feel less alone, I... prefer to see their faces.”

Her hand strays to her face, uncaring of her exposed and long healed burns, thumb pressing against her bottom lip, recalling another friend who walked into the trees and never returned. “I would love nothing more than to see the ones  we miss return. It isn’t so unusual. Your entire beach and your entire people, those were a miracle to me. I’ve spent eighty years thinking the Labyrinth is all there was of the island so. Perhaps it is possible.” But she doesn’t smile, and her expression remains solemn.

The idea of them walking from the flames, unscathed and real, hurts to imagine. It’s a dream to which they have no time to waste on pondering. “Do you think closure would be better? You can triumph over truths no matter how unpleasant. But lies... and lingering hope? When those are dashed, the pieces are harder to find and the recovery longer.”

[ilonafinch]

manojoaquin​:

.

Joaquin motioned behind him, from the shelter where he’d just emerged.  It was an open shelter constructed from wood, and deeper inside was a shallow cave that seemed illuminated from within.  “Yes, I live right here,”  he said politely.   “I didn’t know anyone else had come up to the high ground, I’m usually alone this early in the morning, you see.”

Sisco looked surprised, but then gradually became abashed and conflicted as Ilona described the type of notoriety he’d gained.  Making his presence known.  It sounded like a very kind way of saying the truth he was now painfully aware of, after everything that had happened.  Especially since South Beach.  “Oh dear.  I didn’t realize I had a reputation.  I’d prefer it if I didn’t…”  Sisco laughed nervously, as he fussily set up for tea, and also a seat for Ilona.

He was much happier to discuss tea, and brightened considerably.  “I have mushroom tea! Would you like mushroom tea?  I found some uh - uhhh - como se dice…mountain-priest mushroom tea?  Ah ha!  Were on a type of mountain and I’m not a priest, but I am a monk.  Hill-monk mushrooms…”  Joaquin chuckled at his own joke.  “Anyway, we shall enjoy some mushroom tea.  It’s quite earthy and fruity.”

Hunkering down, Sisco rubbed his chin.  “I can’t say I’ve seen such a flower, but it sounds intriguing.  I could help you find it, if you like.  Ah - “ Joaquin held up a finger and scuttled into his cave, then returned with a shallow bowl of stone.  Within was a thick, gloopy-looking fire.  Carefully pinching off some, Joaquin quickly deposited it onto the firepit, and coaxed the flames from it. 

“Et voici! It seems we’re both blessed with fire, Ilona.”

《✧》 

“Ah, I see!” His shelter is a great deal more familiar to her than some of the others on this part of the island. Her eyes narrow on the glint of light and she shoots him an inquisitive look. “Are the caves safe again? I’m surprised anyone would venture into them after everything in the tunnels. I only ventured so close myself because I was told this flower grows in shadows. What better shadows sometimes than this!”

His reaction startles her, and she watches him in silence for a second, shifting her weight from one foot to another as he fussed with tea. “I don’t believe it was said maliciously. They seemed quite protective of you. Though perhaps that everything she said was simply a ploy! She did waltz off with my wine.” Ilona ponders this possibility, tapping her lips. “There wasn’t much left in it, so she saved me the trouble of finding a way to dispose of it.” Carrying around glass is too much of a hassle to her. It takes up too much space and breaks too easily in a rush.

She cocks her head. A pause. It isn’t pleasant to ask, but-- “Is your reputation... bad?”

The last thing she wants is mushroom tea after eight decades of drinking it. But it’s not her tea - it requires no foraging, no heating, no preparations. So Ilona accepts the offer and the seat graciously, sinking onto it with an appreciative nod. “You’re a monk?” she questions. “How did one such as you end up here? Same way as anyone, I suppose.” But though she isn’t very religious, Ilona had hoped God was forgiving enough to spare his servants. Perhaps she doesn’t know enough about monks.

No sooner does she think this than he runs off and returns with what can only be a gift. Ilona leans forward in her seat for a closer look, mouth open slightly in surprise. “Incredible. Where did you get this?” she breathes, watching not just the flames in his firepit, but the thick, gloopy fire in the bowl. It feels like fire and doesn’t in equal measure. Her fingers tingle, but she ignores it. “How much easier it would be to use this gift with something like this!”

Ilona shoots him a smile. “Fantastic. It’s a beautiful power, we are lucky to wield. I don’t know many others who have it anymore. It’s not quite as practical as some of the others in the Labyrinth. Easier to sense water, or hear creatures, or feel vibrations.” Less so conjure a flame with effort. Her lighter is a blessing, one she isn’t pleased will soon meet its end.

[ilonafinch]

akbartheolder​:

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Emre stared at the woman, not deigning to answer the question.  He didn’t know her, or what her story was.  So where would he start answering that question: a house?  South Beach? Meridium?  Who the fuck knows where you are? Too many answers and none of them particularly elucidating.

Fortunately, she answered herself and told him to give her a moment.  Emre took that same moment to read her, as best as he could.  She was definitely one of Libby’s from the jungle, her dark hair tousled and her skin so pale she looked like she preferred the darkness in the house out of necessity.   Her expression screwed up in a genuine confusion, enough so that Emre exhaled slowly, and relaxed his shoulders.

“Take your time, luv,”  Emre softly drawled, then looked a little exasperated when she slipped into a seat.  “Make yourself at home, I suppose.”  She looked skeletal and cold, shivering into herself, but Emre stubbornly didn’t head down to the kitchen-area to see if Iyaz had any water in the kettle, and he didn’t offer her one of Iyaz’s blankets either.  “You fire-magic?  You look cold.”

With a slight, tight smile, Emre glanced outside at the farm.  No one seemed to be coming after him, ordering him out of the house and back to work on the farm.  Who would?  Everyone was still desperately trying to pick up the pieces from Thulani’s appearance.  And before that - the beast; and before that, from Kotka’s farm attack. And before that –

They were alone for the time being, and Emre looked around the house.  He hadn’t been inside here in months, but he was proud of Iyaz for keeping things…relatively tidy.  A little careless here and there, but Emre empathized with the stress Iyaz was going through.

“Nah.  It’s my brother, my younger.  He’s the Doctor Akbar.  I’m the elder, Emre Akbar.”  Emre’s tight smile expanded into a crooked smirk.  “You mean you haven’t heard of me? The fuck’s your name, luv?”

《✧》

No need to panic, then. If he isn’t throwing things - hands, rocks, the odd mushroom or two, or some attunement mischief - then he’s not about to change his mind. Hopefully. “I will, thank you,” she said graciously, not missing the exasperated look on his face but choosing to ignore it with something of a relieved smile on her face.

She answers his initial question a heartbeat later, when it seems the tension isn’t altogether bad anymore. “I didn’t expect anyone to be in here. I wasn’t trying to sneak around, no, I just wanted shelter from the rain. And an unfortunate curiosity for the unknown.”

At his comment on her attunement, her head tilts and a grin crosses her face faintly. “Is it obvious? The rain here is usually warm, but I’m always freezing when the sun isn’t out regardless.”

Whatever distracts him has him looking over his shoulder to the farm, and Ilona leans forward, peering at the profile of his face. Familiar, maybe, in the slope of his nose and the shape of his eyes, as though she’s looking at someone that she once knew. But no name comes to mind, and she is still looking at him, frown pulling at the corners of her lips, when his gaze returns to the house.

“Pleased to meet you,” she says, blinking, and then looks bemused at the notion of knowing his name or his story. “Afraid not. I think I’ve seen you before, there’s something awfully familiar about you, but Emre doesn’t ring anymore of a bell than Doctor Akbar. Should I be worried?” She isn’t, but she’ll ask Libby another time whether he’s important.

“My name is Ilona. Ilona Finch. I’m...” She intends to say she’s from the Labyrinth, but her recent conversation with Jupiter is a touch to fresh and she stops with a grimace. “I’m from the jungle. It’s been a long while since I’ve had to worry about houses or properties belonging to specific people, so I apologize for intruding. I didn’t take anything.”

Her clothes are threadbare and patched in several places, but she sticks her hands into the pockets of her blouse and flips them up. Only her lighter clatters out on the floor which she places the toes of her shoes over slightly. “Well, not quite as possessive. In the jungle, what you can carry is yours if it isn’t necessary. I suppose that isn’t a problem here, yes? There’s plenty to share, and plenty to own-- are you quite alright?” It occurs to her that it isn’t the first time he’s looked over his shoulder since he, for lack of a better word, cornered her and his grin is altogether too crookedly charming for her comfort.

[ilonafinch]

serendipitysiva​:

࣭ .     ࣪   ✷   ࣭  ࣪  ࣭

“It’s a first for me. Leave it to two brazen dunderheads to explore something just because it was listed on a faire.” The sarcasm dripped from Siva’s voice without missing a beat. The humor was irony-polished at its finest. The French hardly proved themselves trustworthy back when they built settlements across her motherland, yet now she saw this list as a way to get some cheap thrills.

She pressed a hand against Ilona’s back as she hoisted up the step, a silent cue that Siva got her. To this day, she had Ilona’s back.

“No kidding,” she huffed. Even their hushed voices reverberated around the rust-laden metal chambers. Every step we take sounds like we’re tap dancing our location away. What could possibly be hid—”

If they weren’t already loud before, they were now as Siva choked on her words. She waved her hand over her face as if it helped the situation. Everybody knew there were those who used these compartments as living quarters, but she didn’t expect running into the outhouse cars too. “Sometimes people make living in the jungle seem sophisticated.”

《✧》   

“As opposed to exploring because they were bored? You have to admit, we would still be here with or without it,” she states dryly, peering around, steadied knowing Siva is there if anything sneaks up on them. Nothing jumps out at them even if their footsteps echoing in her ears brings her to a short pause as she looks around a tight corner. Nothing.

The stench is impossible to miss. Ilona’s free hand covers her mouth and nose, face crinkled in disgust. “We won’t have to worry about someone sneaking up on us unless they need to use the loo then. Please tell me that’s-- You know what, I don’t want to know,” she dismisses, fighting back the urge to gag. “Is there a way around this one? Do we have to hop out again?”

Even as she speaks, her hand raises higher to illuminate more of the dim compartment. The flickering light shines off a door further ahead. “Right. Okay. I can see a path around. I doubt anyone is hiding anything special here.” Ilona picks a careful path away from the stench, careful to keep her eyes looking at anything else. Her lips are clamped together beneath her free hand, a feeble attempt to shield herself from the worst of it.

A dusty window offers them a glimpse into the next apartment and she indicates it with her head. Holding her breath, she drops her hand tugs her sleeve over it, swiping over the window. Lips still clamped, she points to the little window which shows a shadowy compartment with several benches and old crates. Empty, she thinks, pushing the handle. It’s stuck. She steps to the side with a shrug of her shoulders. Unless she drops her flame, Ilona can’t open it with a single hand.

[ilonafinch]

kazxraval​:

Kaz’s seaside shelter Closed ~ @ilonafinch​

Deep and dark water. Being a strong and adventurous swimmer, those things had never bothered Kaz before the day both descended on him at a coral reef. Only to vanish him from his life and wash him up on Meridium shores. 

Over ten years later and he had yet to conquer the fear. On this night, Kaz stood as he so often did, staring out from the beach at the shimmer of the moonlight over those deep and dark places he couldn’t yet reach. 

But there was a light, too. As he turned to make the short climb into the cliffs on the beach, he noticed an orange glow from inside his shelter. Someone is up there… He froze, he listened, but nothing. Kaz used his air attunement to sweep up to the small cave in the rocks, his approach soundless and twinned with the breeze off the water. A hand gripped the small knife still on loan from Isela. He listened again– his last shelter had been destroyed and Kaz had found Madi helping her damn self by digging around. He didn’t want a repeat. 

Kaz ducked beneath the overhang of rock that opened into the cave in the cliff. The blade of the knife was used to tap a warning on the rock wall. “Knock, knock. Get the fuck out of my shelter.” A growl of caution to the figure with fire roaming through in his place. 

《✧》

The nights are colder. It’s the reason she chooses to venture around, unable to find sleep against what feels like a relentless chill. Arms tight over her midsection, Ilona wanders until she finds evidence of people. A smoker catches her eye on a shelter she’d have otherwise overlooked among the cliffs. Shadows cast an ominous glow over everything. Ilona flickers her lighter - once, twice, it’s running too low to use - and grows the flame from its spark to a brighter light.

She’s only wandering a few moments when a growl reaches her ears. With a strangled gasp, Ilona jumps forward, knocking into what might be a table. Thankfully, she doesn’t throw the fire at him. Yet. “You startled me! You can’t just... jump up behind people! What if I had flung this at your face?” she scolds, lifting her hand higher to see his face in the light. “It would have been quite painful!” Her own hands are testament of that with their scattered burns.

Fire glints off the knife. Ilona stops, swallowing, and draws her hand closer, lest he decide to fling it at her. Her fire will have little luck against that enemy. “You don’t need that. It’s certainly not much of a fire, me with my fire and you with your knife. Let’s... not,” she says, and lowers her hands, as if hoping this will calm him. “But, uh, yes, sorry, this is your home? I didn’t realize someone lived here. All the way out here, on your own?”

[ilonafinch]

WHERE: the high house WHEN: afternoon

@libbyblum​

Living in the Labyrinth was as much a routine as it was a challenge. A new threat every day wasn’t something to dismiss, but Ilona finds there’s a certain monotony to living in the jungle. Settle, flee. Settle, flee. It’s different on the beach. They, for one, have a house of sorts, and it’s here that Ilona stumbles around, trying to determine where Libby stores things. “Is it strange to have a home again? I’ve almost forgotten what it was like to have things like a roof over my head.” It’s been a long time since the thing above her head was anything other than a canopy.

Her eyes go to Flora and soften. “How are things with her? No troubles?” Many of the Labyrinthians are mothers, but it seems Libby is quite often the one asked to take on the roll of mother. Lily, to start, and now this precious one. Ilona doesn’t mind. Her own attempts at motherhood were, technically speaking, failures. She wiggles her fingers in greeting to Flora’s wide eyes. “Her childhood will - hopefully - be a great deal less chaotic than our dear Lily’s.”

 Ilona crouches to open a door on a cabinet. “Aha! I told you I would find it!” Sure, Libby could have found it faster, but part of the charm in visiting new places - or traversing ones she rarely sees, such as this one - is the searching.

With a pot in one hand, she holds it out. “I found some mushrooms the other day we could use. But I imagine we’re all sick of them. I... don’t miss mushrooms. Not the tea, not the soup.” For a time, that was all she ate in the Labyrinth before others came to experiment. Her nose wrinkles at the thought of using them again. “Maybe something else. Onion? Do we have those?”