anchors bound into your chest

POSTED: Tue Feb 07, 2017 12:49 pm

Postdated to around January 23.


By midday Dove had walked the full length of the Infernian borders at least three times. Her head pounded into her ears and eyes, and her throat stung raw as if someone had taken a chisel to it. Her steps dragged like her eyelids. Like the slouch in her shoulders.

"River Lark," Dove shouted for the hundredth time, her voice a thing of grit and sand and whispers. "River, can you hear me?"

Her legs gave out. The skull-tipped post she grabbed for came spilling down with the skin and bones she called a body.

When Dove realized she had snapped the string of her bow in the fall, so too snapped the last thread in the fraying rope that was Dove. She curled into her knees and rocked and sobbed and clenched her teeth until her jaw hurt. An elderly raven, an unlikely friend from Ravenswrest, appeared quiet at her side for the first time. She didn't care.

Then, when some strength returned to her, she staked the pole back in place and pulled herself onto her feet. She dusted her clothes and wiped at her eyes, poorly attempted Saffron's circular breathing methods, and began shouting for her missing brother again.

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Cour des Miracles
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Lin
Luperci Chaos Star
smoke and mirrors
BAPTISM BY FIRE

POSTED: Mon Feb 20, 2017 3:30 pm

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He shouldn't be going there. It wasn't safe, even less if he were caught. The threat of Clover's wrath loomed over him like a dark cloud and niggled at the back of his thoughts. Whether it be out of a sense of duty to his Clan or a moment of youthful rebellion Oriole pushed it aside.

He strode, two-legged this time, from Mansion to the borders. He kept his head low and didn't call attention to himself. At a distance he could pass for an adult. He was already taller than some, if gawky. His limbs were lanky and he hadn't quite grown into his feet but he was nearly there.

A wooden rosary jangled in time with his steps, the cross swinging low on his chest. His hair was neatly styled, kept short and kempt. It was spiked just a little and natural gold highlighted the ends. While young Oriole was already a disciplined little man, or hombrecito as both Molca and Haroseth called him; Oriole didn't much like the name.

His long strides brought him closer to the border where he stiffened. Her distraught cries made the hairs of his nape stand on end. He crept closer and kept his eyes peeled for danger. A shiver of anxiety went down his spine. The voice was dry and raspy, unsettling. He didn't recognize it until he saw her stark two-toned body and loose clothing.

Her voice made his stomach twist into an uneasy knot and his ears pricked almost painfully. She hadn't been kind to him the first time they'd met but the thought hadn't even occurred to him. His heart was seized by an immense wave of compassion and his resolve immediately solidified until he was approaching her with care and wary concern. It wasn't safe out here.

Fighting his better instinct, Oriole touched a hand to her shoulder, Dove? Something was wrong. Something was off with her. He couldn't place it until she turned around.

Oriole de l'Or

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Stormie
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POSTED: Wed Feb 22, 2017 10:03 am

Dove spun, her face a disheveled image of panic and windstorm. The Reverie gaped at her visitor wild-eyed, as if he had been the madman who took River Lark. As if he should have been River Lark, who touched at her shoulder to comfort and cease at last the weeks-long personal crusade that were her rescue efforts.

Between nerves and drowsiness, recognition set in with considerable delay. She blinked to correct his picture in blurring eyes. Oriole. The dog from the chapel. She remembered a spat and leaving on bad terms, but the details escaped her.

Dove didn't greet him, nor acknowledge the shadow she was cast within by their overwhelming difference in height. Instead the Reverie grabbed at his chest or shoulder in a frantic, irrational panic. "Have you seen him? Have you seen River?"

Then, as if realizing her mistake, Dove drew back her hand and glared. She didn't wait for an answer. The little Reverie turned and continued with dragging steps along, cupping hands to her muzzle while calling out her brother's name.

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Lin
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POSTED: Wed Mar 01, 2017 11:53 am

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Wild-eyed and open-mouthed Dove spun and gaped at him. Recognition set in slowly and she clutched at him with frantic fingers. Oriole stared briefly wide-eyed. He stumbled back a step then righted so he could support himself and her, but she'd already released him. River? I- no He managed after a beat and then his brows knit again with concern. He walked towards her laying a hand on her shoulder but tentatively this time in case she spun again.

Dove? What happened? He wasn't sure he'd get an answer or at least not a coherent one. He looked warily around until his eyes caught on the broken bow, the same bow that had potentially saved his life. He frowned.

Hey, it's not safe out here right now. Come- come back home with me. I can get you something to eat. Maybe Aunt cooked something, I can share it with you. He flattened his ears. Please, Dove. Try as he might he couldn't quite suppress the anxious whine in his plea.

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Stormie
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POSTED: Wed Mar 01, 2017 8:02 pm

"What's it look like?" she barked back between shouts for her brother, paired with a glare thrown over her shoulder she must have thought more intense than it actually was. "I haven't seen River Lark in days."

And if reminded of the circumstance by her own words, Dove paled and returned frantic to her scouting and shouting. His please gave her pause, and Dove looked back at him equal parts mystified and irritable.

"What is wrong with you?" She shook her head, stark. "My brother is missing. I don't have time for that."

She turned away. "If you're not going to help me look for him," Dove started, and hesitated when "then leave me alone" naturally followed. Their last interaction had ended so bitterly, and even in her exhaustion she regretted it. "If you're not going to help look, you should go."

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Lin
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POSTED: Thu Mar 02, 2017 11:56 am

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She snapped back at him and glared all at once reminding him of their first spat and bringing it to the forefront of his mind. What she’d said though was enough to keep his attention and to maintain that powerful wave of compassion he'd felt when he first saw her distress.

A fresh wave of anxiety fluttered uneasily in his gut. With all that was going on and the violence he'd personally witnessed this news did not bode well. In this regard he dismissed her attitude and persisted stubbornly. And if you suddenly go missing too, that's supposed to help him? If he were older his words could easily be construed as cynical and cold, however Oriole expressed only worry and mounting concern.

Dove tried to shake him off in a characteristicly cold and aloof fashion. A younger Oriole would have obeyed her wishes, an Oriole who had never seen real violence. The boy now was wiser and growing up. The thought made his scabbed lip itch. He knew he should leave it alone, but Haroseth had persisted that it was going to scar anyway. He rubbed at it with the back of his hand.

I'm not. He sounded bolder than he felt, but went with it. Going I mean, not unless you're coming back with me. He was shaking his head a little and his face was set with determination.

We can come back and look for him. With help. His young voice was firm and for a moment it was a man's. A moment.

Oriole reached for her again, one last attempt. Instead of comfort his fingers sought to grasp her, gently but firmly and urge her away. It's just not safe out here for us.

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Stormie
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POSTED: Sat Mar 04, 2017 12:22 pm

When her back turned Oriole drew to light a risk Dove had not considered throughout this sleepless lapse of practicality: She was as vulnerable as River Lark was, and doubly so with the bowstring of her weapon snapped. Dove paused, acknowledging that doubt. Her hands fisted, but she didn't turn back to look at him.

She maintained as such as Oriole went on, a weighty stone in the wild wind that was her psyche. Days of a fleeting, anxious existence outside her mind and proper logic came crashing down at once like a bird in flight tethered fast around the ankle. It occurred to Dove—if only in a few blessed seconds of lucidity, just as one might breach the surface from underwater—that she was not in her right mind. That she hadn't been eating, wasn't sleeping, and wasn't taking necessary precautions to protect herself as River Lark would want her to.

Then, as quickly as it came, such lucidity vanished as if smothered by a wave of "None of that matters" and dragged back beneath the sea.

Oriole touched at her shoulder but she neither flinched nor took refuge. Dove looked at him: her hair askew, her eyes wild, her body caving in on itself. An image of despair.

"No, you, you don't get it," she said, challenging him with her eyes. "It doesn't matter what happens to me. He's going through worse because of me. I was scared, and I fought with my sister not to go home, and River stayed behind with me even though he didn't want to, and now we're here and there's a war and he's missing."

A terrified commitment followed in her voice that seemed to frighten even herself: "I have to keep looking. If you want to go get help, fine. But I can't stop."

The Reverie realized her shattered facade and rebuilt the wall of ice between them at once. Dove took the hand gently from her shoulder and returned it to him, muttering an impassive "Thank you for your concern." She stepped back coldly as if to imply he was dismissed.

all the colors mix together to gray
Cour des Miracles
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Lin
Luperci Chaos Star
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POSTED: Tue Mar 07, 2017 11:45 am

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Dove went quiet and tensed, balling her hands into fists; for a moment Oriole thought she was going to hit him. Maybe that was unfair, but in her current state he couldn't predict what she would do next. She looked so...sad: distraught. He would be too if he'd lost Maggie or Ren, but he had to hope he'd still listen to reason. Dove wasn't, or if she had it'd been trumped by her need and her fear.

Oriole fought hard to hold her gaze. His brows furrowed and his ears shifted. He was trying to understand what she was telling him but there were pieces missing and he came up short: scared, scared of what? Was this about the dog; he wanted to ask but recognized that now just wasn't the time. He listened.

His hand remained on her shoulder until she swept it off and he let it fall. He'd tried to change her mind, but it was already made up. Worry made his heart pick up and he kept up his guard. If she wouldn't leave then he was going to stay with her. He wasn't a great fighter like Vesper or his uncle Antioch, but he couldn't leave her out here alone, not even to get help.

Then I'll help you look for him. He said decisively, Two's better than one, right? He strode past her and cupped his hands to his mouth.

River!

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Stormie
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POSTED: Tue Mar 14, 2017 1:53 pm

Behind his back her ears turned flat and eyes furrowed, the iciness she brought on as quickly melting by his sympathy. She did not understand why he would not leave her considering how she had treated him in the past, but recognized his concerns as sincere. Two was better than one, and if he had the patience to keep up with her, Dove would allow it.

She stepped with wide strides to catch up to him and walked alongside quiet for a time, allowing her throat shouted raw to rest while he filled in.

"He's brown, with yellow eyes and scratches on his face. Did you ever meet him?" Her hands were fidgeting. "I can't find a trace of him. He wouldn't just leave me here, he wouldn't."

But though they continued to shout for River, her wearied mind wandered reasons for his presence, for his patience with her. They concluded at nothing.

And after several minutes' silence as she looked, Dove muttered. "I was a real jerk to you a few weeks ago."

all the colors mix together to gray
Cour des Miracles
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Lin
Luperci Chaos Star
smoke and mirrors
BAPTISM BY FIRE

POSTED: Thu Mar 16, 2017 11:48 am

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Daunted though he was by her icy facade and pert dismissal Oriole wasn't going to leave her alone. He couldn't. He was just too stubborn. They were little in the face of Boreas thugs but still two was the far superior number and meant better odds, if slightly.

He wasn't so sure what Dove could do in her current condition. She was too thin and her voice was rough and grated against her dry throat. Her snapped bowstring led him to believe that she was now as defenseless as he was, maybe more. Oriole at least had size.

He called intermittently allowing pauses for a potential reply. They heard none and nothing. Now more than ever Oriole believed that he was, in fact, lost...Maybe dead. He wouldn't voice those thoughts to Dove, though. No matter how hard she tried to hide it he could see she was crumbling. Whether true or false his suspicions could easily be the last straw. He knew better than that.

He paused in his search to look over. I've seen him around, I think. The boy mused, trying to picture River's scratched face. I don't think I talked to him. He frowned, he wanted to be more of a comfort. His ears twitched at her wording, he wanted to say more but couldn't find the words. Inferni was home to him, naively he thought it was the same for everyone. When they slipped into silence again he resumed calling.

Nothing.

He was about to lift his voice again when she surprised him. He didn't look at her but even so his brows furrowed.

Oriole wasn't very good at talking about his feelings. He took after Jehan in that way, it made him uncomfortable. He wasn't quite sure what to say and paused to rub the back of his neck.

Oh, um, it's okay. I mean, you just lost your sister, right. I'd be upset too. His frown deepened. He didn't know if he said it right, or if he should say more. He looked around pretending to be looking for River and not just fidgeting.

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