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Post by kajeayn on Jul 2, 2021 7:55:32 GMT -6
May 13th, the Goldhead Pub, immediately after the event of White Wyvern: Rumors Only Grow.
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Post by kajeayn on Jul 2, 2021 7:58:23 GMT -6
= M O I R A = The fire finds a home in me.
WC: 742 | Post 1The meeting at the Goldhead had ended, in a way Moira could not even pretend to have seen coming. The necklace Euonia wore had shattered, revealing a vision that had shaken her to her core- Isador’s betrayal of Solaris, and a face that looked like hope.
A face she had woven into her own works, spoke about in her many sermons of loss, the public grieving of the royal family.
A ghost.
Marcellus had been dead. She knew that. Her body had been burned with her family.
And she had seen her, breathing, alive.
What work was this? The gods?
Something else?
It troubled her, deeply, but it was a matter she would have to ponder later. She knew her own thought patterns well enough to know at least part of why it troubled her so, and why her mind kept circling back to it.
If Marcellus came back, could others?
Why Marcellus?
She shoved the thoughts away with a viciousness that surprised her- she knew it was not good mindfulness to bury the unwelcome thoughts, but she was still in public, still a Flamen in the eyes of all those around her- and she could not afford to be lost in melancholy.
She could not let her guard down.
Not in a group of mostly strangers, and certainly not for her stroll home- knowing she was not safe to walk the streets of the city she grew up in was a thought that settled in her chest like frost.
She knew she could simply ask Jessiah to escort her home- they had come to pick her up with Euonia, but she certainly would not ask Euonia to make that walk tonight, and she would likely insist on coming along. It would be better for all of them- safer- for Jessiah to take Euonia straight home, and for Moira to find her own way.
She resented the thought, at least a little. The idea of needing to be escorted like a doddering matron rankled her, but with no blessings to call her own and nothing to throw around but her own size, she knew to go out alone and unarmed was foolish at best.
She had a target on her back, now. It was nothing new, but it was still a thought that wouldn’t quite settle, not really.
She breathed out, adjusting her hood to lay over her braids once more, and put on a smile that felt like a mask.
She had no intentions of asking a slave to escort her. It wasn’t as if they could say no, not to her, not to any free citizen of Aodh- so that cut out a few options already.
There was, however, one citizen here who had caught her eye- someone who had spoken up during the meeting, and whose appearance closely resembled that of Ignacio, all black scales and impressive antlers, eyes like blue flame.
She knew a kirin in their midst could only be one who was not born that way- their accent showed that, for one, as well as their simple presence within the city walls. There were precious few who could truly claim to be an ancient kirin in Valore, and she had little inclination to speak with them these days- once she would have done near anything to simply have a cup of tea with one for an hour, and now she found herself nauseated by the very idea.
Any who seemed happy to watch Aodhians burn did not seem a true child of Ignacio, not to her.
And she was fascinated by the very idea of being transformed into a kirin- surely an equine becoming their god’s created breed meant something? Especially one who was, as far as she knew, a simple commoner- and one made to resemble the fire god Himself.
It had been a while, since she’d been, in a simple word, curious.
She’d thought that part of her had long since grown cold, but as she approached the ebony colored kirin, she could feel it spark to life again- what had it been like? Did they know why they were transformed?
Someone she was keenly interested in talking with seemed a good choice to walk home with, provided they would not be going far out of their way.
“An interesting meeting tonight, wasn’t it?” She greeted softly, coming to stand beside the kirin- glancing over them with a golden blue gaze, bright with interest.
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Post by misttheelf on Jul 6, 2021 11:25:00 GMT -6
Caron "Now the Fire and Wind guide me to Freedom."
Post 1 | WC 263 Caron sighed as they started to adjust their cloak to leave - It would be best for them to leave quickly, after the revelations shared from the evening… Marcellus being alive, the thoughts from some of the Flamines about Isador himself… the meeting had been something. And it left Caron with much to think about. They'd no idea what had possessed them to draw attention to their presence, but… they had. They sighed a bit, thinking on how many present had barely hidden discomfort at their presence - but with a shake of their head they dismissed the thoughts, as one of the Flamines approached them. That on its own, was strange to Caron. It was rare for them to be approached, much less by someone of importance. They glanced up at her with a hum as she spoke to them. "I… suppose, it was." Caron replied with a slight tilt of their head. "Out… are Flamines Moira, correct? My apologies, I… do not spend much time in the sanctums." They ducked their head a bit at that, once more wishing that they had Chiya perched on their back. Well, only a few more moments and they could go retrieve her and the rest of their belongings from the alleyway nearby. "Is there anything I could help you with?" They asked, noticing how Moira examined him. To be honest, the gaze made them slightly uncomfortable, reminding them a bit to much of the time spent waiting to be sold. But that'd never happen again. They knew it wouldn't - Ignacio had broken their chains, after all.
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