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@serendipitysiva
[📌] P I N N E D
“Whoever wishes may accompany me: the road is long, it’s painful but it’s lived.” ― Clarice Lispector
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What are 3-5 of your character's most common expressions/looks? Gifs, pics, description, whatever!
mood: gossiping, patronizing, auntie-ing
mood: looking respectfully, gay
mood: annoyed but doesn’t want you to know
mood: annoyed but wants you to know
wrenscrest:
↤ ☾🔥☽ ↦
Wren had just been finishing her shift on the farm when she heard the sound of wailing to the west. It scared her to think about who or what could possibly be making a noise like that and went to investigate. With flint she had gotten from Joaquin in her pocket just in case, she followed the sound and hoping this wasn’t another one of the jinn’s evil tricks.
When she located the source of the sound, Wren was even more surprised by what she saw. It wasn’t some creature, some new terrible beast, but a woman. Her back was to Wren but she was a familiar figure, even if it had been quite some time since they had seen each other. The planks of wood she was setting up were also familiar, with her parents names on them, Wren was reminded of being back on the North Beach, silent and overcome with grief as these headstones were erected in her parents memory.
She overheard the woman talking to herself…no, to Wren’s parents. She couldn’t help but stand back and observe what was going on, feeling her chest tighten up, being reminded of that pain of losing her parents all over again. Wren took a step forward, not wanting to interrupt but feeling she needed to get a better look at this display, all three planks set up, her family all together.
It reminded Wren of what Tamyra had said to her when they first ran into each other on the South Beach. She had disappeared for so long the only logical assumption was death, and that seemed to be what Siva had thought had happened to Wren as well. Only when this private memorial was over did Wren speak up. The entire time she watched she tried to think of what to do, what to say but the only thing that came out of her mouth to make her presence known was, “Siva?”
࣭ . ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣭
Shit. The last thing Siva wanted was for someone ( anyone ) to catch her in this state. Grief touched upon the souls of every person on Meridium but the act of grieving was love in an intimate font. She wanted to keep the sacred act between her and her second family. She ran her fingers and the palm of her hands across her face to wipe off any tears.
She stood from her kneeling position, her head slowly swiveling around.
And then the world stopped spinning beneath her feet.
Siva’s hand pressed against her stomach where the wave of sorrow originated. The force of the shock knocked her back several steps.
“If this is another trick of the island, it is cruel,” she warned. She never took her eyes off the specter and kept her feet in constant motion to maintain space between them.
She had seen figures before, sure. People she thought she wouldn’t see again. The ones whose time on earth were spent. They were photographs of moments in time,gruesomely detailed exactly the way she remembered them. The main difference being the lack of light in their eyes, but this was different.
This Wren looked... Grown. The realization that Siva missed so many years of Wren’s life knocked the air out of Siva’s lungs. Wren’s eyes—No. This specter’s eyes held such sadness, overflowing.
Let it be real, she whispered in the confines of her mind.
Have you ever been in love?
“Love.” The word rings like an echo until the meaning detaches itself from the sound altogether.
“I’ve acted foolish in order to gain someone’s approval. I’ve looked away and hidden my gaze as if someone was the sun themself. I’ve rendered myself bare and debauched. I’ve held hope for someone to grow old with me. I’ve also grieved enough loss to second guess whether I did it all out of love.”
“I’ve never been that vulnerable before.”
You get to live the life of another inhabitant of Meridium for one day. Whose life would you live?
“Truthfully? I don’t think I’d survive this long if I was anybody else. Not just physically. I don’t know what emotional baggage other people carry and maybe it’s not worth finding out.
If I had to pick, maybe I’d pick Tamyra. I figure it’d be interesting going through a day with people kissing my arse while I hardly lift a finger.”
@tamyrawilliams
Do you feel like you have a 'purpose'? What is it, if so?
"I used to have one assigned to me. Grow up, be proper, get married, and fulfil the family duties. Apparently, I failed at even doing that. I wanted to dance and look at who I wanted to look at. I became the family's shame and no better than a maid.
All of that got rewritten by my own hand. I've lived longer than most people do and if I play my cards right, I get to continue that streak.
My main purpose now is to prove that I'm chosen to be the exception. Every day, I have to earn this extended life. I can't stay still or be complacent. That's no better than being dead to me.
Look at this island. Yes, it's a death trap. It's only in the face of death that we get to appreciate life. I'm not taking my second chance lightly."
Who or what would you consider your worst enemies (list as many as you want)?
The Obelisk. "There is no reason why it should have our entire government names on there like that."
The Beast. "It shapeshifts. It's nefarious. It's a Rakshasa."
Lack of rice. "I know most are getting by just fine without rice, but I just need something. Anything. Basmati, brown, black, jasmine..."
Severe weather. "That's enough now."
The pieces of sand that always get under your clothes. "How do those buggers even get there?"
YOUR AURA IS: Lemon Yellow
Your unique charm makes you stand out no matter where you go.
You like hanging out with people. Your whole body itches to go out if you stay at home. Meeting and socializing with people is how you replenish your energy.
You’re cheerful but also compassionate and warm. You take good care of others around you.
Being free-spirited, you can’t stand strict rules and regulations.
Your tender heart gets hurt easily, but the hurt doesn’t last long. Your positive outlook on life allows you to be resilient and return to your positive self in no time.
SPECIAL TRAIT: You have the special ability of attracting people’s attention.
kazxraval:
.
He blinked slow, detached. Head tilted at their complaint. Then he feigned a brand of enthusiastic excitement he never truly had himself. Hands animated, eyes wide and with a breathless whisper to keep their position concealed. “Oh WOW, it’s you???!!! Don’t know what I’ve done with myself going a whole fucking twelve hours without seeing you!!!” He dropped it quick and snapped back to his typical blank and dry expression.
Shouldn’t be a surprise, Kaz often cut to the point without any politeness. “That a warmer welcome for you? I’ve been trapped on an island with minimal human contact, you know…” He trailed off to leave the thought unfinished, eyes narrowed and back on the last spot he saw the person on the raft before they disappeared. I caught sight of something strange out in the ocean. Kaz looked back to Siva. “Wait. What.” It wasn’t a dream, a prank, a reawakening of his childhood sleepwalking, mumbling about monsters in the dark. And it wasn’t the first time Siva saw it? “What did you see? Because I’ve been seeing something myself. Thought I was finally losing it. Keep seeing someone on a raft and followed them here, but…”
He motioned to the jungle that obscured their view of the water. Tamyra had told him not to go back into the jungle in search of the answers he needed. If there were any answers left to begin with. Not that Kaz often listened to what he was told…
Siva caught him off guard. “Uh.” He hid the night terrors by living at the further reaches of the island. His perpetual sleep deprivation was more obvious and not hidden at all. Yesterday he fell asleep on the smokehouse floor. The smell of charred fish woke him up.
Yet no one ever asked about it. “No, but. I usually don’t sleep until dawn anyway.” He crossed his arms. “Why’re you out here?” And another question. “When have you seen the raft out in the water before? What time of day?” Kaz saw it during the thin, quiet hours before sunrise, but he wouldn’t give a leading question.
࣭ . . ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣭
Yes, yes, yes. They both had a bit of fun with the theatre antics to cover up the fact that both of them wished they were with Gabriel instead.
Her gaze flickered over to the jungle then back to him. There were many signal inputs to process through all at once. None immediately alarming in her mind, although the man in the raft did scratch her itch for mystery.
“Well that explains why you’re always wide awake when I stop by for a quick cuppa. I thought it was insomnia or something.” Her arms crossed over her chest, mirroring his movement unintentionally. The atmosphere changed once he turned the questions on her. The need to brace and defend herself poured out on instinct.
“I’m not plastered or anything if that’s what you’re getting at. It was literally just that one time.” You show up a little hammered on your own birthday and some people won’t let it go. “And I don’t know what your excuse is but I thought the bloke seemed dodgy so I came out to investigate.”
Admittedly, the first time she noticed this same scene, she waved it off as an island trick. At the time, she had just left Kaz’s humble abode on this side, sparse and isolated. Figured the dwindling moonlight was playing tricks on her eyes. “I mean... I’m pretty certain I’ve seen him every time I’ve come to visit you. Never in sunlight. This is the first time I’ve seen him out for this long. Where do you reckon he went?”
THE CHARIOT
UPRIGHT: Control, willpower, success, action, determination
REVERSED: Powerless, aggression, opposition, lack of direction
The charioteer stands tall – there’s no sitting down for them, as they are all about taking action and moving forward. Behind the chariot flows a wide river, symbolic of the need to be ‘in flow’ with the rhythm of life while also charging ahead toward your goals and intentions.
The reversed Chariot denotes aggression and lack of willpower. It may either be saying that they are lacking in focus, motivation or direction, or that you are being warped by your obsession with your goals. Their impulses may be another factor that they must rein in. To see the Chariot in reverse may suggest that you need to come to terms with the fact that you cannot always be in control.
akbartheolder:
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Emre appeared in the doorway, to find Savi in the fisher’s hut. His face curved into a bemused grin. “Phupho-ji!” he teased her with a husky enthusiasm, then disappeared from the doorway and along the balcony, which bordered the circumference of the fisher’s hut. When he returned, Savi had poked her head out, searching for him.
“Chill karo, Savi-auntie. I was just fetching something for you. Go, move, go,” Emre motioned with a basket he’d fetched from the balcony, for her to return inside. With the rain, the roof dripped constantly, the floor sporadically wet. But Emre hardly seemed to mind. “Wasn’t expecting any guests, was I. And I’ve had too many unwanted sorts traipsing in here, recently. Here I thought I was supposed to be exiled,” Emre snorted, feeling it terribly ironic at this point.
Not that he was complaining in the least. Having company - having someone to talk to or even fight with - was better than having nothing. He followed Savi back into the sparse hut and showed her what was in the basket.
“Is shrimps innit,” he said, jostling the crustaceans in the seawater. “Caught them a couple days back. In case anyone dropped in for tea, in fact.”
In fact, perhaps Emre was hoping Aurélie might be waiting for him, like she’d done before (the jinn-Aurélie notwithstanding). This time, he intended to feed her something nice. A little fantasy he’d concocted in his head, feeding Aurélie a supper.
Aurélie hadn’t appeared, but Savi would do. “Stay for supper. Do you know how to clean these little buggers? Last time I cooked shrimps on my own- “ Without Iyaz, he meant. Iyaz was the cook between the two brothers, always concocting something marvelous to eat, even on Meridium. But Iyaz was cooking for one, these days.
“- they was all sandy-like.” Emre curled his lip in regret. “I was eating shrimp shit curry, wasn’t I.”
࣭ ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣭
There was a joy Siva saw in him, feigned or otherwise, that she could recognize without difficulty. She felt it each time she immersed herself in another person’s presence and had the energy reciprocated. It drove the loneliness of monotony away. The island chill easily permeated through thick skin without the warmth of having company. Tonight was one of the less frigid nights.
The auntie role he designated to her was one of her favorites to play, especially when it came at his expense. She reached out to cup his face in her hands. “You’re as skinny as a toothpick these days. Too skinny. A bit of shite probably added to your calorie count and helped your digestion. I bet you’ve been ace at going to the loo regularly ever since, right?”
She relaxed her grin and gave him a pat on the arms—A signal that he didn’t have to actually answer that. “I can only imagine shite curry will stunt my growth. I’ll teach you how to de-vein the little bastards and be your beta-taster so your future romantic prospects won’t suffer.”
The opportunity to cook for someone came in abundance compared to getting to cook with someone. There were only so many people you could stand to share the kitchen space with. The long strands of hair falling in Siva’s face were pulled back proper. She wrapped a rubber strand around her ponytail, expecting to be pleasantly surprised by this experience or entertained by an utter shit show.
Siva leaned against the countertop. A pain from her wrist shot up her arm, announcing that she definitely sprained it from being careless on her hike. She bit down on her lip then took weight off of her wrist, careful to not alert Emre.
"Alright, Aloo,” She spoke up, diverting her own attention. “Where do you keep your knife or sharp equivalents?”
starlit-lilies:
location: the patch of jungle kaz, emre, and tamyra burnt status: closed with @serendipitysiva
Lily had had her places of refuge on the other side of the island, and even in the Labyrinth. Places to go where she could meditate, where she could decompress, where she could hide from people and not worry about them needing something from her.
She had her own few places on this side, too, but since she’d come across this scorched area months ago, it was becoming her favorite. Over the course of the months, she had come by every so often and found the jungle rebounding, found life blooming from death.
New plants unfurled across a forest floor whose shade would have once choked them out. Insects feasting on rotting, charred wood. Soil dark and fertile, given fresh nutrients from the ash. Every visit brought a new discovery. In a way the fire had been a good thing.
She did still resent the perpetrators, though, whoever they were. There was no way they had come to burn the jungle for its quote-unquote “benefit”. Though by now she was sure they had reaped what they had sowed.
She was mindlessly making vaguely animal-shaped forms with the groundwater she’d pulled up when she heard something and sat up, twisting around to look toward the disturbance.
“Hello?” she called. “I heard you.”
࣭ ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣭
One thing Siva learned from Gabriel and the rest during their jungle trek was to pick a point ahead to walk towards and a point behind to walk away from. As easily distracted as she used to be, she would’ve wandered in circles until the next group of survivors found her body.
She was stomping through a lattice of branches before a voice within earshot addressed her. It had to be her. Nobody else made as much noise by far.
“I sure hope you did,” she sent back in response. “I sensed you right back if it’s any consolation.” Whoever it was playing with their attunement provided a “north pole” for Siva to head towards. She should say thanks all things considered. As soon as she broke through the obstruction, she came to face the destination she was in search of to begin with.
She heard of the destruction but making time to check out the place for herself kept ended up lower and lower on her list of priorities. There was much more moisture in the soil, enough to sustain new life. The seedlings in their verdant green reached through the ground, dark as grave dirt.
“It’s...” Her jaw dropped further with each new sight she took in. “It’s beautiful here. Did you have a hand in all this regeneration?”
amberxbolt:
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Siva was a nice person. Amber was tempted to say kid because of her youthful face, but she knew better. Everyone here was hot, and everyone here was old. And while they didn’t dislike each other, Siva tended to keep to her own group, as most had on North Beach. And her group was Gabe, who Amber stayed away from, and the beach kid whose parents were crushed by Amber’s plane, who Amber also stayed away from.
Amber was also a nice person. She had helped out on North Beach. She had contributed to society. She’d made friends with her fellow nobodies and given people flowers and helped them build their houses.
She was still thinking when Siva asked her question, and Amber nodded, expression understanding. Yes, of course she would be in the Thulani group. “Yeah, it is. He just, he just didn’t have, you know. He didn’t have anywhere to go.” She shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ears. “And you know, Tomas opened his door to me, not so long ago. So I felt it was a good way to just give back. Do some good.” She gave a breathy, embarrassed little laugh.
“But um, did you… did you want to talk to him? I don’t know if he’s still at the house, but we can go together?”
࣭ ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣭
Speechless. That was how it always went whenever Tomas’ name got sprinkled over a conversation. The reincarnated Demeter in the flesh himself. She smiled through the old impulse of calling him a quack at the drop of a hat. See? She could be the bigger person within this 1.6m body.
“That was so generous of him. I would consider your kindness paid forward as I’m sure he put you to work right away to meet productivity quotas.” The following laughter came through crisp and hearty in comparison to Amber’s demure chuckle.
“Ah,” she sighed as the reaction her own joke died down. “I would love some company on the way over. Let’s walk and talk.” She went from facing Amber to standing beside her with a turn of her heels. As a playful gesture, she gently bumped her elbow against the other girl’s.
They were never familiar by any means. What Siva did notice from Amber could give any saint a run for their money. Siva’s next thoughts flew straight out her mouth without much effort to filter them through, “You’re always doing good. Like a little wind-up doll that keeps marching. What motivates you? What keeps your key wound up?”
adreamingescapist:
Current favorite song. It’s just so beautiful, with Shreya Ghoshal’s wonderful soft yet somehow sultry voice! ngl, I listened to this for like 5 times straight. And I love the video too, Deepika looks gorgeous!
✷ the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view ✷ location: west of the farmlands ✷ closed thread with: @wrenscrest
Siva carried the planks with her like her own grief. Though they weren’t heavy by nature, they weighed against her tired arms. She shifted and continued to swaddle the three planks close to her chest.
A wailing echoed in her ears and she knew this wasn’t the trick of the island. The culprit was none other than herself. The familiar act of holding a bundle with this much care in her arms took her all the way back twenty-three years ago.
She knelt down at the spot she scouted and cleared out a few days ago. From the pile, she pulled out the wood pieces with Cornell and Milana Augustine‘s names on them. As she quickly found out, she was better at erecting these headstones the second time around. With ginger touches, she picked up the third piece. From holding baby Wren to her headstone, Siva had to tilt her head up to stop the flow of tears down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t look after her,” she whispered. The names CORNELL and MILANA in her neat handwriting stared back at her. After arranging all three of them together, her head hung low.
“I can only do my part in reuniting you all like this. When I came back, they told me she was gone. Maybe I should’ve gone back into the jungle to find her... But I didn’t.” Her shame dipped her head even lower. “I have prayed for her as I did for you. Prayed for her soul to be protected. Prayed for her to be released from this place forever. You would be so proud of the person she became. She sounds just like you, Milana, when she sings. And she was bright like Cornell. She was going to achieve so mu—“
She pushed her words through the feeling of her chest caving in on itself. She collapsed forward; her hands pressed against the ground in time to catch her. “May your souls all attain moksha.”
akbartheolder:
location: fisher’s hut
@serendipitysiva
Maybe it was entitled of him. He’d thought maybe after everything that had happened - and it was a lot of strife recently - that he’d warrant some kind of revision. Then again, four months was nothing, even by outside-world standards. Despite his aid during the various attacks, despite Emre being on his ‘best’ behaviour (or good enough, he thought), he still got no parole review with the Golden Duo.
He missed his brother. He missed stepping out onto the farm every day without having to account for the tides and timing. He missed people and chatting. Every night he lay alone in the cold fisher’s hut and stared up at the ceiling felt like a clawing agony. Like he’d stopped existing, in the hut.
Emre trudged along the low tide path one late evening, back from a day’s work. And feeling peevish, because it was all Thulani-this and mountain-lagoon that buzzing on the farm. Emre didn’t really care about this third lagoon. What did it matter? None of them could leave Meridium, regardless. So it was just more people to worry about, more mysteries to pluck at but never unravel. More people who Emre wasn’t allowed to interact with.
He was so caught up in his thoughts, that as he ascended the ladder to his fisher’s hut, Emre only belated sensed her. One of his recently acquired water-magic skills, was being able to feel moving water - in the clouds, in the ocean tides around him. And even thrumming through other waterbabies.
Was it Lily, perhaps? Or Aurélie? “Oi! Who’s home,” Emre called out as he hopped onto the balcony. His hand hovering over his slung cutlass, just in case. “You better not be robbing me, mate. I’ve cut hands off for less.”
࣭ ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣭
With the music only playing in the recess of Siva’s memories, her hands recited the moves to the choreography she created. Time had eroded the finer details down to general forms of each mudra, but it was enough to serve its purpose to manifest her attunement.
The water circled the scrape on her wrist without stop. She used to watch the blood coagulate and scab over during the process but it lost its novelty after the first year.
Speaking of things that lost its charm over time, her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head as Emre’s threat filled the room. She guided the water back into her flask and tightened the cap back on. She raised her voice loud enough in hopes for him to recognize her, “Relax, Aloo. I haven’t found anything of value yet or I would’ve legged off.”
She had to wonder if he reacted out of precedent. Stealing from this little hut, what a way to kick an exiled man while he was down. People enacted their own form of punitive justice and the thought didn’t sit uncomfortably with her. They shouldn’t be here—though she had no more of a claim to be here by the Duo’s edict. But being birds of a feather, more or less, beckoned her to crash his nest.
She popped her head out the main doorway to greet him into his own residence. “Well? What are you still standing out there for?”
ilonafinch:
《✧》
“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.
࣭ . ࣪ ✷ ࣭ ࣪ ࣭
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.