Be at Peace
Log Info
- Title: Be at Peace
- Emitter: Delilah, Donna
- Characters: Delilah, Donna, Ashes, Elyanna, Merek
- Place: Wilderness several days north of Alexandria
- Time: Monday, March 08, 2021, 8:36 PM
- Summary: The Valethor gang hide at Mahuikaa's cabin. Merek arrives. They continue their discussion and Mahuikaa agrees that Bethany should be consulted. Ashes is up for some grave robbing, but the sith'makar woman reveals she has another method. A cube that will the young adventurers cross over to the Grey Halls. This is even better! Donna insists Ashlee lead them, and she agrees. The Mourner explains they must be 'Clean', this is physical and spiritually, and must not bring any trappings of life. She leads them through the ritual preparation of the body, which includes washing, annointing, releasing one's cares and being annointed. Each person is laid bare, Donna and Delilah betraying their deepest fears of losing each other. Merek and Elyanna are more reticent, and Ash's secrets are given to her familiar before he silences her.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Donna 5'4" 106 Lb Human Female A black-haired human girl in black robes. Delilah 5'4" 106 Lb Human Female A golden haired human girl in white robes. Merek 5'10" 215 Lb Human Male A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes. Ashes 5'11" 177 Lb Hobgoblin Female A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face Elyanna 5'11" 153 Lb Half-Orc Female A grim, Arvek-blooded woman in raven feathers. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Mahuikaa Friendly Sith'Makar Female An elderly greenscale with grey tips matron -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GMs -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Delilah 5'4" 106 Lb Human Female A golden haired human girl in white robes. Donna 5'4" 106 Lb Human Female A black-haired human girl in black robes. Whirlpool 5'0" Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's been a couple of days, spent in safety (some might say hiding) at Mahuikaa's cottage, secluded in the woods. While it has been peaceful, it might also be summed up with the word boring; after the excitement of the investigation, trial, and execution, just sitting on your hands and knees and waiting might seem a bit dull.
As far as Delilah is concerned, that suits just fine, and she's been perfectly happy doing nothing more productive with her time but helping Mahuikaa cook and clean. Not to mention, with a couple of messages magically sent to Merek, he's been given a chance to catch up as well.
But, problems ignored are not problems solved, naturally. Someone still needs to worry about proving her innocence, and so Mahuikaa waits in her study, surrounded by all the various books and scrolls and curios she's acquired over the decades, waiting for Delilah to fetch everyone for her for a little talk. While she waits, she toys with a litle cube, perhaps four inches to a side and each side of a different material made.
Merek takes a look at the message, then he's finding a way to where everyone was at. He's kept Karlin safe, and for now he keeps the man in a safe place. He comes upon the cottage, while he begins taking a look from the scarf which he wears, dark attire on. The man knocks on the door while he waits.
Mourner Ashlee Ciaradh, ex-Leftennant Medic of the Cavalry forces of the Blar Army, cleaned up her armour and put it away in her messenger bag and soothed the spirit of her long dead drill Sergent who absolutely was not hanging around and pestering her about abusing her equipment. All except her burnt cavalry boots, replacements which she got from the Not-Monster that a lava mephit took a dislike to. Her weapons went in as well, and her clothes and familiars came out.
The ashen Arvec is fine with doing nothing. It's one of her skills, and lying in state and pretending to be dead, attempting to breathe slowly enough no one notices is a favourite pasttime. Merek never needs to eat; perhaps she can find something to remove her need for air. That might make the emulation more effective.
When Ash isn't being a corpse, she'll follow orders and do what others request. She'll brush the horses on her own, and takes them for a daily ride. Talking, about anything, hasn't been a priority. She misses when she could communicate with a meaningful stare. Alas, other Vardamites aren't around, so she inflicts that on everyone else.
"If you want peace, prepare for war." quothe an aged Arvek treatise.
The former Keeper Elyanna, less a student of history, than of bleak pragmatism, is, in her way, doing that to while away the quiet hours. LIke Ashes, she assists where called upon, and taking oppurtunities for more time with her friend grooming and excercising the mounts. She spent a fair while, otherwise, on her blades the first night with whetstone and oil despite the convienience of her mystical diddy that could handle the task.
The second was her scouting attire and armour, the spacing and limited modesty of the cramped quarters affording glimpses of the spiderweb of fine, faded white scars crisscrossing the length of her back.
This night, finds the thrice expatriated scion gently massaging what smells like hair oil into the multihued tresses of her lash.
Fortunately, she has the vial set on the table when the knocking comes, and the halfbreed is on her feet with the handle of her weapon in her hand, and the other clutching that of the curved punched dagger at the small of her back.
It's been almost like being home again for Donna; despite their current predicament, there has been no small amount of relief at not having to worry about risk-reward calculations, where the risk was her sister's head. But the years have drilled into her a similar set of reflexes as Elyanna, and armor and gauntlets have been carefully maintained.
While the dark-haired brawler hasn't attempted to force noise on people who prefer to remain silent, she knows well that it would be poor manners to ignore guests. Thus when the knock comes, Donna is sat opposite Elyanna, slowly filing the points of her gauntlets' knuckles to proper sharpness.
Where Elyanna leaps up in preparation for danger, Donna seems a touch more languid, carefully slipping the gauntlet on her hand and wiggling her fingers to settle it properly. "Easy," she says, quietly. "Anyone who wants to bust down that door's gonna have bigger problems than us." Creeping up to one side of the doorway, Donna calls out to the person waiting outside; "Friend or foe?"
Merek looks to the door when Donna speaks, then he nods a bit. "It's Merek. Friend," he notes, which is pretty amazing, this time he knocks. One would expect the man to be the kind to simply walk in. All the same, he's mindful knowing what they all went through in that adventure.
Ash scootches sidesways a smidge, so she can turn her head and have a clear view of the door, and Elyanna and Donna on either side of it. She remains expressionless, hands in her lap, Chippen pretending to be a headband, and Carbuncle is on her right ear today. She's been slowly moving him further and further out, to the point where the white lizard's weight overcomes the cartilidge strength in her ear, and it is pulled down to hang like a dog's.
Inhale, exhale, she waits for this to resolve and ponders all her previous experiences with doors. Truly, they are the adventurer's foe.
The red woman glances sidelong to Donna, but she does seem to let some tension out on the return from Merek. Her hand comes away from the blade at her back, only to busy itself coiling Maidenhead instead. Elyanna steps forward, with still some lingering wariness of a trap, draws the door open from one side to allow the Seer entrance.
"C'mon in," Donna says, moving away from the door as Elyanna opens it. "S'good to see you up an' out..." Motioning for Merek to have a seat, the brawler nods to the Hobkin. "C'mon; Ma's probably in her study now, let's go an' see what she's got t'say."
Merek walks along and into the place while he nods a bit to everyone. It's fortunate he's not another door. The man crosses both of his arms while he seems to think about it, "It's nice to see you all are well enough," he notes. The man doesn't offer hugs, though he does do of course the next best thing, he offers a smile, though he seems pretty tired about it all. Then he's walking to the study with the party.
Ashlee stands, running her hands once down her clothes to straighten them out. She adjusts the strap of her satchel, rocking her shoulder, then ducks under some low-hanging herbs attached to a beam. She glances as she passes it, foxglove, many uses. She looks at the Seer, willing her neck stiff, and does not nod. Instead, she raises her free hand in greeting, then drops it again.
The ashen Arvec moves up beside the red-skinned noble one and keeps pace with her as they follow the man into the study. She drifts over to a nook where she can stand in the shadows. Her glittering eyes latch onto the cube the sith'makar woman was manipulating. She watches and waits.
Elyanna watches the Seer, if that's truly who he is, enter, then gives the outside a quick scan for untoward observervation.
Or just to make sure it's where she left it.
Satisfied, the Keeper swings the door closed and follows the brawler to see what Ma has to say as Ashes joins her side with a soft, "Hello, Seer."
She doesn't muse on their status, however, her concerns kept within her own head for the nonce.
Delilah is waiting in the study with the old Sith Makar, standing behind where Mahuikaa is sitting. Mahuikaa, for her part, is still examining the cube, but looks up as people come filing in, and sets the cube down on the writing desk in front of her.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking about our predicament," she explains. "And I think, and you can all tell me if I'm wrong, but... I believe Ashes is correct. You really need to have a talk with Bethany." She leans back in her seat, and clasps her hands over her stomach. "Of course, her being dead does complicate the matter somewhat... but as I am sure Ashes will also tell you, it doesn't make it impossible. There are ways."
"It would help." Ashes says quietly, monotone. There were discrepancies, things Bethany would be able to elaborate beyond what the Blood Biography said. The Mourner is relatively certain that the Seer has capable spells. She's aware of her own abilities as well.
"I have to touch. Her body has to be intact. I don't know if there is a way at range." She stands taller at a sudden thought, a little bit of grave robbing might be necessary! Her eyes light up. She stares at Merek, "Can you do it at range?"
"Yes, and we were told to respect the boundaries presented by those ways when first we met, that said... It's perhaps important we revisit that, I am sure she wants to see justice," Merek notes, then he nods a bit to everyone, seeming to see if they're all doing well. He takes a cigarette from the pack in his pocket, and places that along inside of his mouth to light, "What do you all think?"
The man then looks to Ashlee, "Ah... I perhaps could see if I can, I can also see if she wants to come back to life, I can perform a full resurrection. I can seek the will of the gods as well." The man nods to everyone, "I think it's worth looking into. Ashlee, is there no way you can persuade of them to perhaps let you see the body?" he asks.
Elyanna sidelongs at Ashes under an arched eyebrow as the Mourner seems suddenly revitalized by the discussion. For her part, she can only nod in concession to the point. Bethany would likely be the only one who can fill in some of the gaps until they can get their hands on an actual conspirator. Merek's words draw her attention, and she returns a thoughtful, "We were told that by someone with a possible agenda." the rest, however, gets a shake of her head, "I doubt they await us with warmth and fond wishes. I expect messy business before this is done."
"It makes sense," Donna says, leaning against the wall, "an' it's probably *gonna* get messy. I ain't exactly fond o' grave robbing, but, times like this I'm definitely more the beggin' forgiveness than askin' permission type."
"There is one other way to have the conversation," Mahuikaa interjects. "And it may require a bit of... legwork." She picks the cube back up, and turns it over in her hands until the white side is facing upwards. "Going back to Alexandria would indeed be 'messy', as you put it Donna, and I think is too great a risk for an uncertain reward. That, and you most certaily would not be taking Delilah with you. No arguements, young lady," she adds, looking over her shoulder to where Delilah is already sputtering.
"So. You can go back for a bit of grave robbing, if you think it is the way to go about things. Or," She holds up the cube and waggles it in the air, "I can send you there. It's the one side on this cube I've never used, but I know where it goes and it will get you there well enough -- of course, finding her will be up to you."
"I don't care what they think." The Mourner is succint, "They may have killed her and block finding out who did. If that troubles Bethany's soul, she may linger, corrupt, and never know the Grey Lady's embrace."
Her voice is unexpectedly firm. She's barely moved, remaining rigid and in the shadows. Chippen however, is a flurry of expression, the house centipede's head popping up at the first suggestion of grave robbery, followed by an excited circuit of the hobgoblin's head. A bristling next, then he seems to deflate and lie on Ashlee's head as the possibility of ressurection rises, and grave-robbing receeds.
Then, there is another option, and the familiar is a flurry of legs again, running down Ashlee's hair and circling around her neck. The Mourner is careful with her reply, hiding all emotion, "Bethany may not want to come back. If that's another way to ask her, I'll do it."
It's very important not to show desire for things; they will be taken away. Chippen goes around and around her neck, a strange, lively choker.
"Wait," says Donna, looking from Mahuikaa to the cube, and back again. "If you're sayin' what I think you're sayin', Ma... Then yeah I'd rather do that. But, I got one condition." Pushing off the wall, she moves to catch Ashes eyes, her face very, very serious. "We do this... then you're in charge, Ashlee. Only travelin' I done off-planet was like half an hour in Fire. This is gonna be your show, if we're off on a day trip to the Grey Halls. You're the expert, an' it's a damn fool who don't trust their expert."
"... I agree, although the thing with that is, if she doesn't want to come back, she won't. Still, that's a lot of things to deal with," Merek mentions. The man nods along with Ashlee, "I agree with you. I just think it's important to keep in mind what we're doing. Though, if you want us to speak with the woman." Then he takes a look at that cube.
"I can prepare the party to Planar Travel, at least in the magical sense, enough to make it safe." He then points to Ashlee, "As a servant of Vardama, it is more likely that the Outsiders will be more willing to listen to you if there are any in that place. It is true, it's best you lead. I can only offer support to protect you from the travel itself."
Elyanna watches Ashes give her stance on the matter without adding any segways. She's stated her relevant thoughts on the affair, and the way of resolution requires... less orthodox means, it seems.
The Mourner stares at Donna as she is chosen to lead this expidition. Her eyes are fixed, unmoving in the dark sockets of the skull-tattoo. She nods once. "Ok."
As the Seer explains his plans to employ some Planar Protection, she nods again. "Yes. That would be best."
Ashlee turns to address everyone, spending a few moments looking at Elyanna's well-oiled whip, her blade. Her hand tightens on the strap of her satchel. Finally she speaks, still in monotone.
"We have to go 'clean'. With no trappings of life. You will need to be washed..."
Her voice trails off. She tries again, "I will explain the ritual washing of the dead. There is a part I will have to do. I will anoint and do the prayers. We can go when that is complete."
Ashlee looks at Mahuikaa, "The stream nearby is good. I have the herbs and oils."
Mahuikaa leans back in her seat, and sets the cube back down on the desk in front of her. "Very well, then," she muses. "That is what we shall do. Or, rather, what you shall do; galloping about the planes of existence is a game for the young, and an old sorceress like me will be sitting here, waiting for tales of adventure." She looks up towards Donna with a meaningful eye. "Go on then, you lot, get ready. Meet me behind the cottage when your preparations are complete. The space back there is best for opening a gate. At least it won't ruin the flowers."
Delilah bounces around the table, to stand alongside Donna. "Alright, this sounds exciting," she agrees. "And... and I'm glad I'm not going to the Grey Halls as a dead person. Being alive is good. I like alive."
As Ashlee begins to speak of preparations, Donna smiles faintly, bobbing her head. "Sounds like a plan, an' that we oughta get started quick. Soon's you're ready, Mourner?"
Glancing at her sister, the dark twin chuckles, a rusty but genuine sound. "Gotta say, goin' to the Halls to help you, but not *fetch* you, pretty damn near ideal, D."
A slow breath through her nose ensues, a glance down over herself as she notes Ashes's eyes roaming her equipment, and Elyanna closes her eyes and nods, "As you say."
The last time she ventured past the veil she was at risk of retching slime, and fully armed. She met a child, their would be guide, who hadn't realized he was dead, only that he was being ignored by those he loved.
She faced a demon, and aided a servant of the Fieu of the Tears with the aid of bold adventurers. She reminds herself of those days, tries to gird herself in that victory, though the idea of seeing beyond ere her time is still... troubling.
Merek stands up from the table while nodding to the party, "I will prepare the spells of protection. What do we need to be clean?" he asks then of Ashlee. The man, well anyone there would know what he's been through. He doesn't show it, although he does think about it, what it was like when he went into the Planes before, he's been killed a few times as well.
"I think Ashes will explain it all once we get to the stream," she offers. "It's not far." She clasps her hands behind her back, to walk out with the rest of the group. "And... you wouldn't've needed to fetch me, Donna. I'd've been hanging around like your shadow the whole time."
The stream is lined with flowers, all up and down the cottage side; but on the far bank, the forest remains wild. There is one spot where there is a rocky outcropping, with nothing but a few hardy lichens growing on it, and lined with mushrooms where stone meats earth; a drifting cloud partly blocks the sun, illuminating the flowers but casting the far bank into shadow.
"So, then... what do we do?"
Before Ashlee follows Delilah out, she unclips Carbuncle from her ear. The white lizard sits on her palm staring up at her. She gives him a kiss then sets him on the table. Her voice is soft, with no inflections, "Stay here with Ma." She leaves, her heavy cavalry boots thumping on the earth as she goes outside and to the stream. She's fetched water often enough, had picked out a certain spot the moment this was suggested.
"Strip. Everything." Ash answers Merek, and gestures towards The Seer's headband, "Even that. You can't take it with you. No trappings of life."
She moves over to the stream edge, pulling up reeds and grasses. The ashen Arvec is careful to avoid pulling up the flowers. "Take enough to weave a mat for yourself. We'll wash in the stream."
How best to make them clear their minds? She'll have to improvise and hope it works. "The stream is symbolic. We'll cross over, to that rock, then cross back. Imagine it is the veil." She's collected a large handful of reeds, and sits, starting her weaving.
Merek nods a bit to Ashlee while he follows the woman to the stream. When all of them are told to strip, he does that. It's not the first time that a ritual called for that. He does take a moment to find reed along with grass. The people might notice the marks along the scars from the torture endured back in the Iron Hells. They will be entering the place he has been multiple times but can't recall fully.
He then begins to focus while he does as asked. It's not easy to clear his mind while he seems to think to himself. The whole world can see what was done to him, and now he thinks back about the things that brought him to that point. It's to save people, it's important. Still, it's difficult to really keep the memories away. He shifts fingernails like dragon claws along his skin. There is life, then there is something within him that is above even that. The one thing he needs to take with him. That presence guides the mind to be a little clear, if not perfect.
Donna glances at her twin, one eyebrow raised. Then, with a shrug, the brawler moves off to collect her own reeds. That done, off goes armor and gambeson, then boots and breeches, and finally the brawler is facing the stream, seated upon her knees.
While the marks that stipple the whipcord muscles of her back are orders of magnitude less horrifying than those the Seer bears, adventuring is ever a dangerous profession, and not one likely to rest lightly upon the skin. Without comment, she does as directed, weaving the broad grasses into a small mat, just enough to lie between shins and ground.
Elyanna, for her part, follows without filling silences with her words. Anything said could be important, and so she listens for her friend to lay out the proceedure for what's to come.
The Seer laid bare before her eyes warrants a survey, as her hands automatically secure her lash to her weapon's belt, and begin to unclasp it. She reads the map he presents, though some of the signs are beyond her mortal means, it tells of a journey similar to those she'd led others on during her misled youth. Her knuckles pale, and there is a ripple of the muscles of her jaw, but she forces herself to see, to understand it, and know again the red in her ledger... as if she could forget, now.
She shrugs out of her feathered cloak, laying it aside to serve as a nest for her trappings.
Her weapons belt.
Her fine chainmail.
Her leathers and gauntlet, laying bare her own scars, both more recent surgical mendings, as well as the long lines from a time when she was on the other end of the lash, with a fire opal in a gold setting, held at her navel with four rings, laid atop the pile to await her turn at the cleansing.
Everyone's scars to tell a story. Merek's are everywhere. Most of Donna's are on hands and arms, but more than once her back has been between something sharp and something weaker than her, and Elyanna's speak of lessons agonizingly received and then shared.
Delilah pauses for just a moment, before she follows everyone else's lead, and pulls the dress she's wearing up over her head. She takes a moment to fold it up neatly, before her slip follows suit. She steps out of her shoes as well, but of course can do nothing about the manacles that are still bolted on around her wrists and ankles, nor the short bit of chain hanging from her right wrist. Unlike her sister, she doesn't have a history writ in scar tissue, aside from the line across the back of her neck that she hasn't had the opportunity to deal with yet.
"I hope these don't matter," she murmurs, lifting her wrists with the manacles. "They... well, I mean, they were meant to be trappings of my death, not my life." She pulls up a bundle of reeds, and starts on her own weaving. And, truth be told, she's not the best weaver, bu the matt she slowly shapes into being ought to be perfectly serviceable, even so.
Ashlee weaves, a simple square over and under pattern that leaves long edges sticking out the sides. Sitting cross-legged, she works with it in her lap. She watches as Merek disrobes. She's seen a lot of bodies. She's seen his, before the scars. The healed evidence of deep injuries tells an obvious story of great pain. It explains a lot about him now. She feels a sadness, and works to let it go. Donna, is also covered with stories of rough life and pain, and examining it, Mourner's weaving is interrupted for a moment.
"The weave doesn't have to be tight. It doesn't have to be perfect. It's like your life. There are gaps, loose ends. It only needs to be big enough for you."
Ashlee has kicked off her boots, working in her threadbare clothes. Clothes that were once fine, fancifully coloured, now faded and grey, and damaged in spots from acid. Elyanna is laid bare, a sight faintly familiar to the Mourner, though a hazy memory of alcohol. Ash knew she had a past, but not how much. As much as she usually stares, she doesn't now, and Donna is answered. "Those will be fine."
She stands and measures her mat, shrugs off what she's wearing. Ashlee Ciaradh is not covered in scars. Instead, she has a full skeleton in white. Shoulder blades, hips, ribs, thigh bones, arms, fingers and toes, and of course the skull. No matter the angle, she is an emblem of death. Ashlee rolls up her mat, takes her satchel and walks into the stream. "Wash, just wash everywhere, then spread your mats out and lie on the rock."
Merek stands up when he finishes with weaving, taking a look to it. It seems to be a chaotic pattern, it is difficult to tell what it is. The man looks to everyone, though in respect and trying to be mindful, each scar seeming to come to mind. He then realizes that he must step forward, he must release all of his thoughts of this life.
Is it not ironic, in his mind he thinks, that to save a life, one must enter a realm of the dead itself. He steps forward to clean himself, the water drawn like a master flow, then he notices one thing he needs to take care of. The man reaches his right hand to his arm, while he then places the dragon claw of his ancestry upon it. Then there is a blue crackling of lightning while the entire arm comes off in a mess of machine and artifice.
The man nods a bit, now with only his right arm, he takes the time to finish the cleaning, then he places the mat upon that rock, to settle along, and he begins to relax, meditating in a way that he best knows. Altered Morphic: The man thinks about details of what the Planes might be. That Divine and Arcane working together to become one within.
Elyanna proceeds then, with the last of her adornments set aside, to gather the reeds and grasses as directed and, somewhat awkwardly weave them together. To do for herself was not always the way of things, and while she has a certain experience framing her more... authorative days, her hands are not attuned to craft as such and her work is arguably sufficient for the lack. The lightning draws her eye in alarm, though the Seer's sudden loss of mass gets a brief cant of the Keeper's head. Huh. A blink to recenter, and the red woman finishes the first part of the task, then wades into the water to tend the body, whilst struggling to settle what lay within.
Donna might be a bit more practiced than her sister in the making of reed mats, but like many of her skills, it's one of necessity. Her weaving is plain, and mostly using grasses as broad as she could find; maximum result for minimum effort, the survivalist's preference. Were this any other time, such a mat would be slated to be tossed into a fire before camp is struck completely.
The crackle of lightning does get the brawler's attention, and one fist comes up to the ready by reflex... But once its source proves to be a piece of artifice discarded, Donna tilts her head faintly, then rises to see to her own cleansing.
Delilah's mat is not so much sloppy, as a bit haphazard. It is perfectly useable and would more than suffice to lie on for the evening, but its construction is a thing born out of a sense of impatience for the mundane. Still, despite its mismatched reeds and lattice of mistakes and errors, it holds together as she rolls it up and wades into the stream.
For the Golden Twin, bathing herself is clearly the prefered ritual. Where making the mat was laced with impatience, care for her body is done with an thorough finesse, attentive to detail, even in the raw, cool waters of the stream.
Once she is finished, and has squeezed as much water as she can out of her hair, she picks a spot on the rock to spread her mat; and then she crawls upon it and lays upon her side, propping her head up on one hand, as she waits for everyone to be in position as Ashes directs.
Ashlee freezes. Lightning on a clear day, while standing in a stream. For a second the irony of going early crosses her mind. Then she sees, it is only artifice. She exhales, "When you cross over, the body that has carried you through life remains. It has done a noble service and so is cared for, purified for you. Let the waters carry away everything you worry about. Your life is finished. Done, undone, the stream bears away the concerns of the living."
The ashen Arvec also enjoys this part, setting her mat and satchel on the shore so she can fully immerse herself. She lies underwater, briefly looking up as the stream babbles away, and clears her mind. Standing, the water droplets cascade, sparking in the light as they drip from her hair.
She steps ashore, rolls her mat out on the rock, but doesn't lie down yet. Reaching into her messenger bag, she pulls out a bowl, some vials, five folded funerary gowns. It's a little surprising she has the supplies with her, but knowing her, perhaps not. She moves around the rock, laying the gowns at each person's feet. Merek, Delilah, Donna, Elyanna.
"Lie back. Slow your breathing. I have the annointing to do. Some secrets you take to your grave. If you have any you don't want to, release them now." Ashlee fills her bowl with water, sets it on the stone. She picks some flowers from the bank, and weaves them into a crown. She stares at everyone now. Merek seems most at peace; he will be first.
The Mourner washes the Seers head with water from her bowl, then lays the wreath of flowers. She takes the bottle of ointment and holds it, waiting for any last words.
Merek might be the most at peace, because he's been to the beyond before. Often unwillingly and in not pretty ways. To enter into it of his own wish is perhaps what makes that a lot easier. He does take a moment to think back on any secrets that he might have, and nods a bit. The man looks to Ashlee, his gaze thoughtful, it's difficult to really say what he offers within them, then a look to everyone else, then back up.
He could offer his secrets, though he did already in a way. And what does it matter? Nothing matters, at the moment all of his deeds tally along and he begins to relax as asked, he is not alive in the same sense anymore. Emptying his mind, he becomes one with his own thoughts, at the moment it doesn't even matter his mastery of magic. Like a still frame, he seems to keep being peaceful, everything he was being placed away.
Elyanna lays herself out on the mat once she imagines she's clean and redressed, awaiting her time under the Mourner's ministrations. Her mind withdraws from Merek's annoiting, from the sisters, from the proscribed future to align the burdens of her mind and soul into their proper places. A trained eye would see the struggle within the stoic lie she presents.
This last week has been... a lot of things, for Donna. Most importantly, she has been seen at her absolute worst; many might feel shame at the rage that thumps beneath her breast, but that has always been a fury born of injustice. When Donna lets her fury go, it's to beat the world into becoming fair, always.
But the absolute mess she made of her emotions and reactions... that was different. That was the helpless flailing of someone who could Do Nothing, who faced losing the part of herself she'd always taken such pains to protect, and fear had made her bite at those who sought only to help. Donna reflects on this, as she stretches out on the mat, chin propped up on her battle-scarred hands.
Blue eyes regard the babbling stream for a long, moment, and then, the brawler speaks. "...Delilah an' me were supposed to be one kid, an I'm made of everything tossed away from her. Sometimes... I get scared if she dies, I'll go too."
Upon hearing Donna's words, Delilah rolls onto her stomach, and without leaving her own mat leans over to kiss her sister on the back of the neck. As she returns to her own space, she arranges herself differently, laying on her back with her hands clasped beneath her breasts. She looks up at the sky, at the cloud that conceals the sun from this angle, and shuts her eyes.
"Donna and I were meant to be one person," she murmurs, "And I'm always afraid that without Donna, I'll be incomplete. Being with her makes me..." She trails off, and bites her bottom lip. "My sister is honest and loyal and steadfast and strong, and never afraid to do right no matter how scared she is or how hard it is, and I look up to her every day, because she is my hero."
The Mourner drips a spot of oil on the Seer's head, "Be at peace." His lips, "Be at peace." She marks his hand, then his feet. Prayers to the Feiu of the Tears are murmured under her breath as she lays flowers around him. The same follows at the others.
The Keeper's bath is completed with the final wash of her hair, and receives her crown of flowers. Drip, a spot of oil for her forehead. Another on her lips. Unexpectedly a kiss follows as the Mourner leans close over her and whispers. "You have the most ghosts. They will not follow. Be at peace." Her hands next, receive their oil, like Maidenhead did, but for a different purpose. Prayers are whispered, surrounding the noble Arvek Nar, until the final annointing of her feet.
The Boxer is next. Her hair is drawn into the water, washed. It's washed a for a long time as Ashlee prays silently for the right words. Some answer is needed. "The Feiu of the Tears waits for two, you and your sister. You go together, today. If she went alone, you would die to follow, for your hearts are one. You are not leftover parts. You are the mirror and the shadow." The flower crown is placed. Oil marks Donna's forehead, her lips. Ash moves and annoints her hands, more oil than usual, drawing a line up the brawler's arms, "Be at peace. Be at Peace."
She moves over to The Sorceress next, and strokes her skeleton like fingers across Delilah's forehead, washing her head and giving her a set of flowers also. "Together, you are complete. Opposite and reinforcing. There was too much good for one person. Two of you were needed to contain it all. You are both paragons." The oil comes next, and the quiet prayers, and the same words the others received, "Be at Peace, Be at Peace."
Ashes moves to her mat, unrolls it, stretches out. She dumps the remaining water over her head, and lies there feeling it trickle away, some of it flowing along the rock, under her mat and down her back. She drops the spots of oil in the same places, and prays to the Grey Lady. She lies back, letting her mouth fall open as she meditates and clears her mind. Chippen runs into her mouth, a thing which is likely uncomfortable for both her and him, to take her last words. He turns around once and crawls out, biting her tongue as he leaves, and takes refuge in her hair.
The Mourner feels the numbness spreading in her mouth. "Now we cross over. Return to Mahuikaa."
OOC Convos
<OOC> Donna says, "Donna just picked a rough life and has no complaints; she could tell you the story of each and every scar she's got, but absolutely none of them would end with '...and then I walked out of the Hells.'"
<OOC> Ashes says, "hee-heee"
<OOC> Merek says, "It was pretty glorious, Ashlee was there on an alt when Merek was thrown back into the world."
<OOC> Donna says, "Now *that* is a moment worth waiting through wooz for. :D Thank you."
<OOC> Delilah says, "Hell. Yes. That was awesome."
<OOC> Donna says, "But, I am fading quickly."
<OOC> Delilah suggest we pause here, on that superb note. :3
<OOC> Ashes says, "I am sorry it took so long, I was trying to find good stuff, and I do think it works as an endpose, yes."
<OOC> Delilah says, "Don't be sorry at all, that was worth the wait. :3"
<OOC> Donna says, "Never apologize for good craft. :3"
<OOC> Ashes says, "Thanks. I really enjoyed the challenge"
<OOC> Donna tosses noms about, all well earned. :3
<OOC> Delilah does likewise!
<OOC> Elyanna says, "nice!"
<OOC> Elyanna says, "awesome y'all :)"
<OOC> Ashes does also, "Thanks! This was a very fun opportunity, I liked the chance for Ashes to go funerary all out.
<OOC> Delilah says, "All of you are awesome and I can't wait to continue. :3"
<OOC> Delilah is really glad you enjoyed it, Ashes. ^.^
<OOC> Merek says, "Ye ty!"
<OOC> Donna says, "Also Merek, that was some of your best work too. :3"
<OOC> Donna says, "Kudos. :3"
<OOC> Ashes nods, "I agree, some good amazing stuff."
<OOC> Delilah says, "Moments like this are what make me want to keep running stuff."
<OOC> Donna says, "Thank you all very much, again. Now I must OOC and sleep."
<OOC> Ashes nods, "it is a great and creative moment and everyone was awesome."