#longlivehearts

[saintsdawn-archive]

The Blue Water Inn is a beacon of warmth and comfort. It’s somber, but the room contains whispers of conversation. If she listens, then she can hear the laughter of children ( the Martikov boys, she thinks, somewhere upstairs and she wonders what scheme they’re crafting ). There’s a crackling fire and cooking food and blood-warming wine in her glass. Together it almost makes her forget the terror lurking beyond the Vallaki’s walls.

It must have twisted her expression, shifted it from one of contentment to concern. “ I’m just thinking. ” It was meant to ease her companion but Valar is moving and before she can object ( she wouldn’t ), there is a kiss on her forehead.

It works, though. It makes her smile and push the thoughts away.

@longlivehearts​ ( valar ), [ SMOOCH ] sender kisses receiver on the cheek / forehead / nose.

[saintsdawn-archive]

Piecing together the thought is difficult. The cleric fumbles with the words, takes a moment to think, and then says, “ Would it bother you ? To know the very thing you’re best at is the thing that hurts the most ? ” She goes quiet. And then, softly, “ It bothers me. ”

@longlivehearts​ ( valar ) liked for a lyrical starter !

[saintsdawn-archive]

“ A wound that cannot be reached. ” They repeat the words of a mentor. If they listen, then it’s as if Father Lucian is with them, hands clasped behind his back and the ever present, ever patient smile on his face. “ That’s how it’s been described to me, anyway. It’s what makes sense. ”

The adventurers sit near the road, a fire between them, but Florence thinks its warmth is weak. It doesn’t reach like it should. They blame the land, and the mist, and the dark. “ They heal wrong, right ? They heal wrong, but you learn to live with the pain. ”

@longlivehearts​ ( valar ), “ It is as though ancient fears are still in us like scars or stitches. ”

[saintsdawn-archive]

Hers is an old longing. Robbed of this simple act of closeness by tragedy, and then denied by duty. Is it a surprise she acts like a starved animal? Valar works a day’s journey of tangles from Florence’s hair, and the action eases the tension from her body. A moment of ( much-needed, she believes ) peace.

( If she closes her eyes, then they aren’t surrounded by dark woods, mist, and death. It’s something akin to what a friend described: lush trees sprinkled with sunlight, warm and alive. )

There’s the separating of hair and the weaving of strands. The beginning of a braid. “ I can do that. ” She doesn’t move. “ I’m tired, but not tired enough that I’m incapable of styling my own hair. ”

@longlivehearts​ ( valar ), intimacy: muse a braids/brushes/works knots out of muse b’s hair.

[saintsdawn-archive]

She’s speaking of roads and towns. They need to reach Vallaki before evening, or the guards will be reluctant to open the gate. They should not make camp because she’s noticed an increase in prowling wolves and glowing eyes watching from the underbrush. A hand was digging through the pack, searching for an old map, and then she sees Valar moving out of the corner of an eye. Her eyes drift to the flower.

Florence says nothing until it’s placed behind an ear, and then she laughs. “ The season for flowers is almost over. Where did you find this ? ”

@longlivehearts​ ( valar ), [ flower ] sender places a flower behind receiver’s ear.

[thiefcant]

@longlivehearts (miruna) asked for an athletics check!

2 + 2 = 4 !

“ oh, yeah, that’s not happening. ”

the rogue looks perplexed as he shifts his feet. the beast that lays dead before him is massive, a hulking thing of feathers and fur, and he’s tapping his sword against his thigh when he hears the creaking of the wood behind him and turns to find the huntress looking back.

there’s a bare moment of surprise before a smile breaks across his face.

“ hey, hey. i heard there was a ranger here who was unmatched! give me a hand, won’t you? i’ll give you part of the kill and some coin to boot. ”

[thiefcant]

@longlivehearts (valar) asked for a sleight of hand check!

14 + 16 = 30 !

slipping through the crowds has become easy these days, with the people of the mists tending not to see whatever stood before them unless their eyes were pulled to it directly. he steps lightly, on his toes, as he cuts two purses and plucks an electrum coin from a third.

he’s looking pleased with himself until he feels the judgemental eyes of someone else on the back of his neck and he smiles, turning on his heel and dancing the coin across his knuckles.

“ don’t give me that look. they won’t miss it, and we need it. unless you really want to deal with that extortionist shopkeep in the village. ”

[saintsdawn-archive]

The bloom is bright and beautiful, and Florence had thought to take it, press and dry. Her hand stops inches from it, hovering, and a wide-eyed look is given to Zybilna. “ Why ? What happens if something is taken ? ”

Another rule, and another lesson. The wilds are captivating and thrilling; however, she is starting to think she has bitten off more than she can chew. ( First a dark wood, and a traded secret. Now everything is illuminated, colorful and alive. It’s a dizzying sensation. She dislikes it. ) The hand falls, and she steps away.

“ How many… rules are there to this place ? ”

@longlivehearts​ ( zybilna ), “ Don’t take anything from this realm, none of it is worth the price of keeping. ”