• Closed • Come join the murder, come fly with black (Pt 1)

From Tried's Mouth to the mysterious Tower, the waters around Scalvoris and the island itself hold a vast array of secrets, just ripe for discovery. Here are landmarks and small villages of note, dotted in and around the island itself.

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• Closed • Come join the murder, come fly with black (Pt 1)

Postby Faith » Mon Feb 12, 2018 7:19 pm

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8th Cylus, 718 The storm was raging, like nothing she had ever heard and Faith had to admit that it was a little frightening. The winds howled and hailstones the size of children's marbles battered the house. When Padraig had gone out and closed the shutters earlier, battening down the hatches he said, he'd come back in looking battered himself. The howling of the wind had unnerved Cosmo who had growled at it, but the thunder and lightning had scared the great big scared beast to the point that he'd hidden under the table. Quattro, meanwhile, had simply made herself scarce. Starr and Nova, the wolf pups who had arrived when Noah and Madison had, were inside the crib with the twins. Faith was vaguely disconcerted by this, but the twins, despite the flashes of lightning which had lit up the house even through the shutters and curtains, had remained asleep all curled up together there. It was the first time that the wolves had got into the crib with them, but Faith couldn't bring herself to move them.

In all nineteen of her arcs, she'd never experienced a storm like it. What had truly unnerved her was when Cyrus, Padraig's grandfather, said that neither had he. The temperature had plummeted, snow and ice were half way up the side of the house and Faith was very pleased that everyone had nightclothes made to keep them warm, using the technique she had worked out. This evening, as the shutters had rattled and the very rafters of the roof had shaken or so it sounded like, Faith had been working on a crocheted draught excluder using that technique. Initially, she'd thought that it would make no difference, because it wasn't clothing, but filling it with orange sand meant that the cold air which might get through also might get warmed. It made sense and Faith had worked as hard as she could to make sure that their home was warm and comfortable.

Which meant that their bed was warm, even with just a single sheet if they wished it and he would be warm in even thin cotton pajamas. Still, she considered as she frowned and pulled herself close to him, it was unusual to feel like this. Like they were on a floor or hard surface - not an unusual feeling for the former slave, the arcs she'd slept on a floor counted many more than first a mattress on the floor in her storage cupboard room at Tristan's house or then his bed and then, in freedom, her own bed. The one bought for her by the man whose arms were around her now.

Sleep had not come easily to Faith that night, with the storm raging and the noise and the lightning flashing. Still, the familiar feeling of him, the well-known beating of his heart as she laid her head on his chest and the way he wrapped her up meant that she felt sleep overtake her. The twins would be awake in a break or two, she knew, wanting another feed and she needed to get some sleep - they were both exhausted but happily so.

Until, that was, they woke up.

She didn't wake as quickly as him but his urgent whisper of her name was enough. Was it the twins? "What?" She sat up and her expression went from tired and confused to something much more basic and fundamental. Fear. They were in a cell. On the floor in a cell. How? How did that happen? Wide awake now, eyes showing the fear bordering on terror she felt, Faith looked around. In the first trill that she realised that the twins weren't with them she felt relief overwhelm her as she recognised that here was not a good place to be. Yet there was something which came immediately after that relief and it, too, was much more primal. "The babies? Where are the babies?" Scrambling up, Faith was wearing nothing but a short white strappy night shift, but she didn't need to. Her feet were bare and her hair loose and she looked at him as she felt the panic rise and her breath start to catch in her chest.

"Are you hurt? Do you know what happened? Did you hear anything?" She was not, did not and could not she told him. Then, after examining the room, she moved over to the bars taking up one wall. "I know this place," she said. "It's where Alexander kept me." Her voice shook and she felt herself start to shiver, though the cold did not bother her. "Padraig? I.. " She didn't finish her sentence, simply because she had no words to say.

And around them, the worst storm Scalvoris had ever seen raged. This high in the mountains, it was worse.
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Come join the murder, come fly with black (Pt 1)

Postby Padraig » Wed Feb 14, 2018 12:17 pm

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The storm that raged outside made life even indoors more difficult than usual. At times it was just a matter of being heard over the sounds of hailstones battering the door and window shutters, carried on straight line winds. At least the horses were out of it now, after he'd gathered them up and put them in their stalls. But there was a part of Padraig that was fascinated by it all. The physicist in him, naturally. On the other hand he'd have been concerned that the twins might be bothered by it, but they didn't seem to be at all. He could only guess it was the wolf pups, their proximity and connections with the children. If it was something else, he couldn't begin to guess.

When his grandfather claimed that he'd never experienced the likes of a storm like this before, Padraig was quick to take advantage and dryly refer to the man's age, all in jest and in a way the older man could appreciate. If Cyrus had never seen it before, then throughout history, likely no one else had. It took a lot though just to keep enough wood in the fire. But luckily they had plenty, cut previously and stacked out on the porch, and a good deal of it brought indoors now.

It left a lot of time on both their hands, so while Faith knitted, or crocheted...Padraig had never been sure of the difference, he read and studied and kept a warm cup of tea always at hand. Eventually though when they went off to bed, it still took some time to drift off. He'd be almost there once or twice, when a crash of lightening would startle him awake. But eventually, he got there, Faith wrapped up in his arms. It didn't last long, and Padraig would never quite know what caused his eyes to fly wide open in a flash. But still it took a trill to decide if he was dreaming or not. He wasn't. "Faith?" he said, even as he recognized where, sort of, they were and saw the bars.

Dread. A sick feeling of it, was what he felt. It wasn't shock so much. Very little shocked or surprised him anymore. The babies weren't here though. It was just the two of them, and he was starting to get a fairly strong suspicion of how they'd gotten where they were. Getting up off the floor, in his bed clothes, he frowned and shook his head. "They're with Cyrus surely," he said, hoping that he was right, and it was true. Cyrus and Katie, and Luna after all had moved over to the main house for the night and were sleeping in the spare bedrooms. They were there, he was determined.

So she knew the place, and that didn't surprise him either. Alexander. This time, both of them. Probably, Padraig figured, because they could call to one another if need be, so the man had simply eliminated an inevitable step by either one of them. Taking her hand, he was determined to remain calm and confident. For her sake. There was plenty that worried him after all, and he didn't need to actually say it. "How did you get out before then?" he whispered. Chances where, Alexander might have already thought about that. But they couldn't simply wait for something to happen, could they?
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Come join the murder, come fly with black (Pt 1)

Postby Faith » Wed Feb 14, 2018 5:52 pm

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"Well, hopefully he starts spontaneously lactating and no one will notice we're gone," she grumbled snippily at him from where she was exploring and examining the bars. Those babies were going to need feeding in a break or two, she said. Hopefully, they'd have the sense to go and get Tina, Faith's friend whose son was just a few months old. Looking at him with concern, panic threatening, Faith spoke what made perfect sense to her. "But Tina doesn't know that Madison likes to have her back rubbed, or that Noah enjoys it when I tickle his foot while I feed him. She doesn't know that, Padraig!" Tears threatened and she stepped into his arms without question, her hand holding on to his as she breathed, just breathed in and out for a moment. "I'm sorry." Turning her gaze to him, she fought to keep herself under control. Worrying herself into a frenzy wasn't going to help any of them. Not either of them here, and not their children. Tina would come, she was sure. Someone would have to go out in the storm and get her, but she would come.

Motioning to the bars, outside of which was a single corridor and then empty cells the other side, she spoke. "We're at the far end of a long corridor," There were no more cells opposite them on their right she said, just the wall. "We're underground. That way," motioning to the left of them where they could see more cells opposite them, "at the end of the corridor, there are stairs. Seven steps up, cut into the rocks. The third one is uneven, badly hewn." Facts. Stated aloud like they replaced the feelings of terror she was putting into her hands as she spoke. "At the top there is a room, with a wooden table for eight or ten people to eat at and, at the far end of that room there is a chair made to look like a throne, on a raised dais." They were just facts and she looked at her hands as she spoke, the frown on her forehead indicating the concentration it took, the sheer bloody minded focus she needed in order to function.

She didn't whisper her reply to him, although she could have. The sound of the storm was still evident, even though it was muffled by how deep underground they were. "I turned into a .. ghost, I suppose. So I can't do that, it would leave you behind. I'm not doing that." That trial hadn't dawned, nor would it. "Your Qylios abilities, are they lessened because it's dark?" She sighed slightly and pinched her nose, trying to force herself to think, to focus. "I see spirits everywhere, you know that. Padraig, the room is full of them. The corridor, the room. They're all screaming, begging for release. It wasn't like this when I was here before." Something had changed, she said and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "I can find out. Maybe. It might be... help me?"

That said, Faith knelt on the floor. It was an old, familiar position, kneeling there and, should he be there with her as she asked, she held on to his hands and closed her eyes. For a few bits she was quiet, concentrating and focusing her efforts. Then, apparently without warning, tears started to pour down her face and her hands in his tightened. She used the power granted to her by Vri, Durge's Stain and she was not at all prepared for what she found. Spirits bombarded her, begging her for help and they were doing the same to him, if he could be see.

Gasping, she opened her eyes. In Ymiden, she had been here. Now, it was Cylus and her face showed the shock she felt. In the time that it had taken them to make, and then her to carry and birth two perfect human beings, Alexander had been busy. "One hundred and twenty four, Padraig. They've all died here, in the vicinity. Violently. In pain." Sighing slightly she looked around and her face set in a grim expression. "Young, old, men, women... children." Her gaze met with those of some of the spirits still here and she nodded her head. "He's experimenting. On people. Slaves, tribal people from the mountains. People he's... bought or captured."

She breathed in, then out. "When we stop him, these souls will be free. With Famula's grace, I have a lantern now, which can lead them to where they need to go, but until they are ready to move on, they will not.When I was here before," she said, with a small, mirthless, smile. "I took on the form of a wisp and exited through the wall. I could take that form again, but I can only do it once a trial. I can also make you and I weapons, like the one I was holding in the carriage when you got there." The sword she made then was forged from her blood, he knew. "In your hand it will last about half a break, before I have to make you another. But we have to get out. I can make you any tools you need. Can you get that door off?"

If it was like last time, she said, it was very likely that they'd be left here for breaks. No one had been in a rush them.
"To be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others."

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