i am hung with graveyard flowers;

[rhinemaid]

Who: Ilde Decima and Hasi; OPEN
What: The water helps her.
Where: The Gross Tar; initially near her waterfall territory in Raven's Gate, after that various areas.
When: Givdi with Hasi; open after that through Shundi.
Notes: Specify time/place (if not Raven's Gate) if you tag in, please!
Warnings: Descriptions of LM:A-related horrors to follow in the thread with Hasi; discussion of rape & related fall out in thread with Jae.

When she finally goes down to the water, it feels so good that she hates herself for a moment sliding in, her clothes on the bank under an illusion. It soaks into her skin like she belongs there and she's glad that she got there first, that Hasi isn't there yet, because sinking into it hurts a little and it's-- not anybody's business what internal conflicts she's having. She just died. She's allowed to feel...whatever this is that she's feeling, and whatever it is she's going to feel it at the bottom of the river for a while, her tail catching light as it flicks up before she dives.

She'll surface, eventually.

Comments

[rhinemaid]

"Okay. I'll-- I can do that." It's something solid to focus on; direction is good, direction keeps her from coming apart at the seams. (Sonja would know what to do, Sonja would deal with this, she would deal with Hilmi, Ilde isn't equipped--)

"Okay," she repeats, quieter.

[boomvox]

"It's going to be fine. We're going to fix Megan and I'm going to handle him and he's not going to get near you, or her."

When he speaks steady like that - it sounds believable, like he believes himself. Jae does, not because he has a plan, but because this is how it has to be. He doesn't know what he's going to do just yet, but he knows he has to take care of this. If the woman who normally keeps this man in line is gone, somebody has to step up. Part of him, the part that shakes and wants to hide, is shining a light on the fact that if Hilmi weren't fae this would be so much less dire, and - and he hates himself a little for the thought, but hates Hilmi even more. How dare he do this, when they have so much to fight against already.

[rhinemaid]

"Fae magic. It's not like what humans do." Or witches, or-- everyone unique, and she's learning to pick out the different magical signatures. Some of them are meaningless to her, beyond this person is magical somehow, but she's learning. Slowly. "I'm still learning, though." She examines her own hand for a moment, turning it over like she might've been a little startled that it worked.

She knew, in theory, that she could do what she just did. She'd just never actually done it before.

[rhinemaid]

Ilde rests her face in her hands for a few moments in silence, so quiet as she gets a firm grip on her composure - or as firm as she's ever getting, the past few days. Finally, very quietly, "He knows what happened to me. I saw it, I could-- I could tell, he knows and that means he knows what happened afterwards and I don't, and I really--"

She needs to know, but she can't stand the idea of having to ask him. Not now.

[boomvox]

Oh.

(No, he thinks, like glass-)

"What-" the question dies on his lips, he can't get it out. He's terrified, horrified suddenly, cold in his stomach, because this on top of everything else - why? He doesn't want to look at her, not because it's too difficult but because he feels like he's invading something that isn't his, just by witnessing it.

"I'll find out."

[wontturntofoam]

He hadn't known the word 'Rhinemaiden' when she'd used it, but the term 'Fae' does ring familiar to him. Shrieky heard it in conversations had a long time ago, over tomes which he'd never learned to decipher for himself.

"You mean, like a Fairy?" He asks, a little stupidly, before shaking his head, "I definitely can't do anything like that. That's different."

His hand still lingers where she'd touched him for a moment, but he drops it down and finally manages to avert his gaze, breaking up the disturbing staring for a moment, "Are you from here?"

[rhinemaid]

When she looks up, even the fact that she's covered in water regardless leaves little doubt as to why her eyes are wet. She's not good at this and it's not something she wants anyone else to witness, but sometimes it's outside of her control and she just has to breathe. For a little while. Just to breathe.

"Thank you," she says, barely.

[boomvox]

"Don't be alone for too long."

He'd hate it.

"I can throw a key to my apartment into the river here, if you want."

[rhinemaid]

"...yes, please." Just until they get this figured out, she's not sure she wants to have to go into this over and over again with different people-- she'll just go to Jae's, for a while, until this is sorted. (This will get sorted; Megan will be fine. She tells herself this.)

[boomvox]

He's impressed with himself - his hands don't shake (much) when he pulls his key ring out and slides the spare one off the rest of them. He knows he should be keeping it somewhere useful, but the idea of leaving it under a rug here strikes him as particularly bad. He holds it between his teeth, and then undoes his left earring - a bright pink stud shaped like a die - and attaches it to the little silver ring, so she can see it in the water.

"It's the building on the corner of Amber Lantern and Crest Harbor, against the river. Third floor, number eight."

His CiD gets to rest on the edge of the bench for a moment, and he chucks it out there, into the water. When he picks it up again, his expression is calm. "We'll figure it out. I'm not going to bail on it."

[rhinemaid]

"I'll find it," quietly; the key, and then the apartment. She's familiar with the feel of Jae, and it shouldn't be too hard to trace the key when it's connected to something he wears; like a bloodhound in the water, just for traces of magic.

"--thank you." Again. She doesn't know quite what else to say about it.

[boomvox]

Jae nods, and gives her a smile - it's subdued, and a little forced, but not disingenuous. He does want her to feel better, and he does feel hopeful about this, even if he's really, really making himself feel that way. They're going to figure it out, and right now, Ilde and Megan both need somebody to be calm and get answers. He will do this.

"I'll see you."

He cuts the connection, takes a few deep breaths, and then heads out. He's got an idea where to go, and he's not going to waste time. (He can deal with one earring.)

When he's already on the el train, leaning against a window, he pulls his CiD out again, and sends off a message:

You're really pretty.

Before he pockets it again, and gets off at the next stop.

[rhinemaid]

She shakes her head, folding her hair - long, black and blue-tinged like her wide eyes - over her shoulder and combing through it with her fingers, partly just for something comfortable to occupy her hands with. The staring, at least, doesn't bother her; she's more often in the position of unsettling other people with the precise same thing, and it's almost comforting. They might not be quite the same, but it's as close as she's ever come and she doesn't want him to leave before she understands.

"I'm from Italy." Sort of. Close enough; Florence was home, more than any other place. "I arrived here nearly a year ago." The first time; her expression is shadowed, a moment, but they've just met. It's not the kind of conversation you drop on a near-stranger, even Ilde understands that. "Are you new?"

echomire, late sukkardi night/the wee hours of shundi

[fish]

The weather is cold, and he's been busy—well, busy being distracted—and it would be dead simple to justify staying at home in a pile of blankets on his night off... and yet.

And yet, here is Hamilton Fish, alone at the riverside, shoulders hunched as he slips out of his coat. Hanging it, and then his scarf, on a low branch. Glancing furtively toward the bank further downstream, at the long, pale coils of one of the Monster Garden's stone inhabitants. It is a serpent-like thing, massive, at once menacing and benign; he finds its presence comforting. A breeze moves his hair, and touches the bare skin of his neck, and soon his back, his hips, the rest of him.
As he steps into the shallows of the river, Fish is silent but open-mouthed—and then pursing his lips, showing his teeth to no one, whatever he can do to keep from— no, wait, he makes a noise as he crouches down, as the water meets his, er, undercarriage. It's kind of a squeak. From there he kneels quickly, blowing air past his lips in a rush.

Fish has brought with him a plastic bag, tied shut and bulging full of water, with small living things flitting inside; he clutches this now in both hands. Shivering hard, but determined nevertheless.

"Sooo... hi..."

Hi, mom. Hi, auntie.

[rhinemaid]

Ilde recognizes him, vaguely; she's seen him on the network before, she thinks, but she doesn't remember offhand if they've ever spoken. Maybe? Maybe not. He works at the inn, which she's inherently suspicious of, but this doesn't seem like he's doing anything bad...

She swims closer as he moves into the water, curious and watchful, and finally surfaces at the greeting that probably isn't actually directed at her in the first place.

"Hello. What are you doing?"

[fish]

"Uh..."

Oh, hi, I'm just sitting here in the middle of January (or whatever) freezing my balls off. ...No. He does freeze, though, in the bodily manner of speaking, and stares like—well, like he's been caught in the nude. Which he has. So that's neat.

"...saying hi?"

There's a glint of silver between his wrists. Movements in the bag, small and quick.

[rhinemaid]

"To who?" Or to what.

Ilde is sometimes deferential, but now is not one of those times; she queries him like she has a right to the answer, and the reason why is probably not too difficult to figure out with a bit of observation. She's a river creature, this is the river, he's doing something and she wants to know what it is. If it's something she should be concerned with.

She isn't threatening, at least. (Yet.) She isn't even visibly armed, besides her teeth; all she's wearing is a gold cuff with a twig and apple design, and small gold apple earrings.

[gramarye]

He props his chin in his hands and does his best to look amused instead of upset, or frightened, or angry -- all of which he has every right to be, but they're all emotions that demand too much energy from him, right now or ever. Maybe in a few days when he's got everything else sorted, he'll be up to feeling anger. "I see you haven't heard that I'm a dangerous, unpredictable criminal. You should watch out." The brand on his left hand is still sore; it shines plainly through his gloves. They could have just used the magic and that would have been enough.

[rhinemaid]

Ilde raises an eyebrow, which would look more arch if she actually lifted her head off her arm to do it in the first place. As it is, she just looks like a tired fairy child with an attitude problem, which-- actually isn't always so far off the mark.

"I was away for a few days," she says, a little vaguely. "That sounds absurd."

But she's been living in Baedal long enough to have a fair idea of what it probably means.

[gramarye]

"I would never dream of suggesting the Militia could ever make a mistake," he deadpans, with enough gravity so that no one can exactly accuse him of mocking if he's overheard but enough of a flat monotone for it to be clear that, well, yes. "The Great and Glorious City of Baedal is fair and just to all its citizens."

... so, no, he doesn't want to talk about it, not really.

"Shit happens, is that the saying?"

[rhinemaid]

"It fits." There are a lot of relevant sayings, probably, but neither of them are feeling a strong need to untangle that reality into little words, pulled apart and laid out to examine. Ilde watches him from her rock, her tail pulling this way and that like she'll never quite be still, the black of her tattoo a shadow on her blue-pearl skin. She seems like something terribly cold, sometimes; unaffected by the chill in the air or the water, made to be a part of it. Distant.

Not so distant she isn't a part of this city as much as Wolfgang; not so far away in and of herself that she isn't woven into the same tapestry of bullshit.

Sukkardi morning – under the bridge by Smog Bend, apparently.

[charismatic]

Will's walking to work today – not all the way, just from the central junction, but he's done less looking around for apartments on the way to work than is logical, most likely, so he might as well do it now. He's coming up on his last day at the Inn and he'd rather not stay longer, if he doesn't have to. It's probably because he's paying more attention to the surroundings than the people around him that he ends up stepping on someone's tail on the bridge – and Will's sense are still working fine, thanks, but knowing that someone's going to hit him doesn't help as much when that someone has anatomy that Will has never seen or imagined in his life.

It's an embarrassingly short fight. If Will weren't himself, he'd probably tease him about it. Still, he figures, while he's plummeting ass-first toward the water, it could be worse. He's not injured, he learned to swim when he was thirteen, and he's probably not going to get eaten by anything in the river. Hopefully.

[rhinemaid]

Probably.

He's probably not expecting the collision that ensues-- his weight collides with Ilde's hip and tail and the momentum drives them both further until Ilde gets her bearings under the water and then there are cold, small hands clutching in his shirt and around his arm. Her nails dig in, but she doesn't mean to, it's just that she isn't very strong and dragging him is hard; there's a moment where it seems like she's about to let go and then the water is pushing him up, too, faster than she could've pulled him.

Water doesn't usually do that, but it tends to roll over for Ilde like a kitten when she wants something.

[gramarye]

"Hm." He pats himself down, realises he left his flask (full of some clear shit made in someone's bathtub, it tastes like motor oil but it's cheap) in his room, gives up. He could use another shot or two; he'll probably stop off at a bar before going home and go several glasses beyond 'a shot or two'. "I'm much better at swearing in Turkish," he says idly, steering the conversation away from anything too fucked up and awful.

[rhinemaid]

"Russian," she offers, for her own part; she can swear most creatively in Italian and it is indeed the language she thinks in and the one she reaches for when she's cussing quietly alone, it being the language she grew up with, but she just likes the way Russian sounds. "And Italian, that's where I'm from, but Russian."

Explain your ridiculous accent, then, Ilde! ...no, that's fine.