Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
The winter’s edge dug deeper into Wern with every breath. February brought the coldest air, and the harshest touch. Even the gloves he wore couldn’t keep the chill out of his hands, out of his bones. But that wasn’t what bothered him then. He just hoped that she would be there today, in that big house of hers. He didn’t plan to stay long, just, well, just long enough to give his condolences. And it made Wern wonder, as he approached the mansion. Was she lonely in that big house of hers? Was she bothered? She must be, shouldn’t see? They were, after all— what? Acquaintances? Friends? Lovers? His guild leader, and—and— Wern swallowed. His fingers gripped the handle of the basket tightly. She must be, he repeated, raising his hand to knock against that door, that sturdy barrier.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Feb 19, 2016 5:54:20 GMT
If the redhead in question could hear Wern's thoughts as he approached, she'd probably have chuckled at someone considering that place to be a mansion. An automatic response more than actual amusement lately. The building complex was crowded, and even when standing on the corridor of the top floor (or perhaps exactly because of the height) Edelweiss could hear the waving, inexact noise of many people there. No one in specific she could recognize. She'd pulled an all-nighter at work, alright. That made it aproximately 30 restless hours. She should go home and sleep, maybe take a shower and eat some thing first but sleep. Her mind warned her of that, yet she was still wide awake and even slightly fidgetty as she toyed with the key in her hands for a moment. The apartment door lied unmoving - as doors do. It was cold, really cold, but that was alright. Maybe if she just stood there leaning against the wall and closed her eyes for a little longer, the white noise from downstairs would manage to drown the silence in her mind.
Back on the entrance hall of the building, beyond the gates, people flocked to the comfortable armchairs and the occasional trays with mugs of hot cocoa that the staff placed on the register counter. The first 3 floors were still a hotel afterall, they couldn't simply offer rooms for free, but there was no fee to stay there for a few hours to escape the weather chill. Some could use the excuse of visitting some of the residents who actually lived on the fancy top floors. Wern's knock at the entry door passed unnoticed for a moment until someone noticed him standing alone with his basket outside and hushed him in before he freezes.
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Flustered, Wern nodded, darting inside. Apparently he wasn’t thinking. Knocking on the door of a hotel? The stress must have gotten to him more then he first thought. And to be honest, the presence of the people, although normally perhaps refreshing, was quite the opposite. Indeed, people needed to take shelter from the cold, the warmth of the place distilling the chill from the bones, for it was much better for them to be inside, but the idea of people, people everywhere, unnerved the mechanic. Perhaps because he, in a sense, was in a state of mourning. A feeling that no one else seemed to share. Or perhaps, after Castamere, no one bothered to share. It was just a constant feeling, that sense of loss. One person, after another to lay down to die, to fill a whole graveyard and then some. So then, what was Amon, a single death, in the line of grief? Just a single ripple, out of raving ocean.
Wern didn’t want to linger on the thought anymore. Instead, he asked the front desk for the way to Edelweiss’ apartment, took the elevator up, and breathed. The contraption shook as it climbed, and with it, Wern’s hands trembled. The rise brought the feeling of guilt, of confusion upon him. What was he to say? What was he to do? Should he even be visiting Edelweiss? Would she think less of him, for taking her lover’s position in the guild? It made Wern fluster, and as the doors of the elevator creaked open, he fumbled his way out of the elevator, only to see, in the hall, Edelweiss. Her form was weary, leaning against what Wern presumed to be her door. Frowning, he stepped forward, holding his breath as he gently walked down to the opposing guild leader. “A-are you alright, ma’am?” He inquired, stopping not too far away from her, hands gripping the basket tightly.
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Feb 23, 2016 7:48:29 GMT
"A-are you alright, ma’am?”
A voice crossed the space clearer than the white noise from the floors below, greeting her through the darkness of her closed eyelids. Somewhat familiar, but not belonging to the neighbors from the apartment in front of hers. A guest then, either from the hotel, from her guild, or for herself or someone else who lived there.
"Not really."
She replied honestly before opening her eyes. The sight of black was exchanged by that of brown. Of fabric and a basket, and worried eyes, and then a shade of dirty-blond on the hair belonging to a slightly pudgy short man. Oh, Wern. She couldn't say she expected to see him standing there, but maybe she should have. That was right, Wern was in charge of Mingos now, she could recall a couple of her workers coming in a hurry to tell her before. Unless he came to visit someone else and only spotted her by coincidence, she figured he was likely there for guild business. If something else, her brain wasn't managing to guess what. "Hello Wern... Sorry, you just caught me in an unsightly moment. It'll be fine." She sighed, relenting that she should open the door and properly get home and turning to do just that. "I should get inside now though; do you want to come in?"
Edelweiss appeared so frail. So on the edge of— exhaustion? Grief? Wern couldn’t place the feeling. But it made his stomach swell, and he had an urge to leave the basket, to wish her good day— his apologies. Yet, what was he supposed to do? What would Amon want him to do? To see if she was alright? To offer some assistance? To help her? “Not Really.” Such a vulnerable, such a truthful statement that Wern withdrew a bit, tucking into himself in an attempt to become smaller, in an attempt to cry out, “I’m sorry.” Sorry for taking your lovers job, sorry that your lover is gone, sorry, sorry, sorry— “If that wouldn’t be too much.” The fearful man responded, holding onto the basket even tighter. He had to be courteous. He had to be social. He had to be normal. “T-these are for you. I, I heard you like sweets, so I got you some, um, Pastries. I didn’t know what you like so I got a little bit of everything.” Perhaps food could help. Food always helped him. But he was also round, and she, she was thin. Like a like a nymph. A crimson nymph. Maybe she didn’t like sweets. Maybe she preferred tea, with a little bit of fruit. Maybe by the riverbed. With Amon. Oh god. His hands, Wern wondered— were they trembling?
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Feb 24, 2016 6:35:06 GMT
Edelweiss blinked. For some reason, it looked like Wern was about to shatter in front of her - ten times more fragile than she'd ever felt even, like a vase of glass under a storm. A sorta chubby vase of glass under a storm. Not that that minor detail was important. But rather than just sad, or empty like she mostly felt, Wern seemed to be... scared? Or ashamed. But she saw no reason why. Yes, getting inside sounded like a good idea now.
"Thank you." She responded simply when he reached out the basket and stated those were pastries for her. For once, she wasn't feeling like eating anything right then but she did have the faint thought that it was about time for breakfast and skipping meals wouldn't do her any good. She should make herself swallow something yes, and it'd go down much easier if it's something sweet, plus Wern spared her the work of having to cook so she did sincerely mean the thanks she gave. "Perhaps we could share these?" He sort of seemed to be needing the sweets more than she did.
Though from the little brushing of hands from when she took the basket handle from Wern, his hand seemed to be... trembling? Was it impression? Looking down at it, she guessed it probably wasn't. And ended up giving a small, sympathethic smile. "Warmth usually helps with the shaking. Try rubbing your palms together a bit while I go find something hot to drink... do you prefer tea, coffee or milk?"
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
The offering of shared food was a nice gesture. Wern quickly nodded, taking the offer, yet hesitance soon followed. Then regret. He had tied himself to the offer now. There was no way to escape, but he hadn’t come there just to escape. The mechanic was there for business— no, that was too harsh. Not just for business, but to express his sorrows. Oh goodness. Now, now his intentions seemed less pure. Less necessary. Perhaps it would have been better if he had run, if he had abandoned her. But he couldn’t’ do that. Not in her state— but maybe, even that, was just something he had labeled on her? Perhaps she did want to be alone. It was too late to tell.
Then, then Edelweiss mentioned shaking. Wern looked down at his empty hands. When had they become empty? But he wasn’t cold. No. He didn’t want to be warm. He was fine. But Wern couldn’t tell her the truth, for what even was the truth? “C-coffee is fine. Thank you.” Bowing his head, the shame still carried, still lingered, and part of him wished he could hold onto the basket so that when he clenched his fists, it didn’t seem as unnatural, as strange.
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Feb 25, 2016 7:33:35 GMT
"Coffee it is, then..."
Edelweiss watched him for a couple seconds, the way he just stood awkwardly in the hall of her apartment without moving even to sit down, clenching his fists and looking at them, suddenly seeming so really small. "You can take a seat..." She placed the basket of pastries over the coffee table, but stopped midway towards the kitchen to glance back at him. "Wern, are you scared of me?" He seemed to be, but she somewhat hoped that impression was wrong. Yes, she could be dangerous given the right settings for it, but Wern never did anything that required that. And she is no shadow beast, it's not like she would eat him alive (or at all).
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Her eyes were of judgment. Of confusion. And Wern met them, body trembling. He had somehow made it to the table, as she had instructed, but he couldn’t remember, how, or when. It must have been only a few moments ago. But he couldn’t tremble now. No. He was a guild leader. Guild leader’s don’t cry. Do they? The pastries were a nice distraction, if only to look at in his periphery as he stared at Edelweiss, biting his lip. She was strong. He knew it. And that was perhaps the problem. She was strong, but he, he was weak.
“No. Maybe. I-I don’t know. I-I’m not sure. I-I was fine until I saw you, then, then.” Clenching his fists, Wern again, bit his lip. “Are you sad?” He blurted out, jumping slightly at the sound of his own voice. Yet, once it was released, he lingered back some, trying to become smaller as he continued. “I- I mean. Are you… Okay? Because Amon. I-I know, or at least, I guessed that you were close. And um, well, I wanted to pay my respects. Except, I don’t believe he’s dead, o-or I don’t want to believe. I don’t think. I mean. I’m sorry.” Lowering his head, Wern wondered if he was in fact, scared of Edelweiss. Scared of her disappointment, for her hatred. Scared for her, even, since she carried herself, so full of strength, so full of poise. Cogs, maybe instead of being scared, he was envious of her. Envious for her ability to remain calm while he, while he— while he only wanted to cry. Cogs, he wished he could go back to the drink.
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Mar 1, 2016 5:28:34 GMT
'No. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not sure.' That wasn't a very definite answer, but Edelweiss realized this was probably the clearer type of response she could get out of Wern. At least it sounded sincere, and was better than a straight-forward 'yes'. He seemed to be avoiding direct eye contact, head low and glancing at the basket of pastries. Maybe he was just hungry, but the redhead was guessing being just nervous and awkward was more probable. He didn't seem overly keen of looking at her at the moment so she decided she could cut some time and keep responding to his comments in order as they came while brewing their coffee in the kitchen.
'Are you sad?' In a way, one might say yes. But this was a tricky question; lately she didn't even know what she was feeling more often than not. "...I think 'empty' would be more accurate right now."
'I mean. Are you... Okay?' She had already answered that question back outside the door, hasn't she... well, it's not like repeating it once costed her anything. "Not really."
'Because Amon. I-I know, or at least, I guessed that you were close.' There was no need nor meaning in denying that. And that was no secret either, at least not to her. "Mhmm. We were."
'And um, well, I wanted to pay my respects. Except, I don’t believe he’s dead, o-or I don’t want to believe. I don’t think.' ".........." That part left Edelweiss speechless for a few seconds as she watched the coffee finishing brewing, like if there was a knot in her throat keeping the words from leaving. She couldn't reply to that while in the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, she settled the coffee into two cups, the cups on a tray along a little bowl of sugar cubes and walked back towards the living room where Wern was waiting, settling the tray next to the basket. "...I don't know what to believe either."
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Edelweiss had taken refuge in the kitchen, and Wern didn’t blame her. No, instead he listened to her voice, her responses, shivering, trembling, wanting to a hold a pastry not for the sake of eating it but for the comfort the softness promised. She was empty? Why? Why was she empty? B-because of Amon? And her feelings? It was hard to understand, hard to comprehend the guild leader’s feelings, let alone his own— and oh god, he was a guild leader too. But not out of right. No, out of necessity. He didn’t belong here, in her house. As a guild leader. And it reflected. It seemed like the whole apartment was pushing him out—or maybe, it was just him, rejecting it all.
Then, came the smell of coffee, and the nymph returned to the circle once more. “Thank you.” Wern stated toward the coffee, at last, having something to hold onto. Except, this one burned. Wincing, he drew his hands away, giving him time to ponde on the woman’s words. “What do you think we should do? What do you think we can do? A-about Amon.” He inquired, again, reaching out for the coffee, but again, drawing away as the cup was still too hot.
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Mar 1, 2016 18:30:34 GMT
Wern grabbing the coffee as if it was his last pole of salvation wasn't something Edelweiss had expected, alright. Mainly since... the coffee was still steaming. "....Careful, Wern" She took his cup by the handle and stuck a spoon in it to stir some before giving it back to him. She had already sweetened her own coffee back at the kitchen, but sipping at it it felt like the usual 5 cubes weren't enough for her tastes today. She frowned slightly at the bitterness, slipping an extra sugar cube into it and stirring before sipping again. A little better.
"Just... go on, I think." Who did he think forced her to be strong? Even when she didn't want to be or thought she shouldn't be? It certainly was not herself, or at least wasn't herself at first. Since she was old enough to understand the things surrounding her, Lodan was never a kind place for her feelings - although, in a twisted sense, it knew how to be fair. "The world doesn't stop when we do, Wern, though at some points I wish it did. Guilds in particular don't stop either. You're the one who took his place, right? I'd be lying if said that doesn't bother me, but please don't take it personally: I'd be bothered at anyone in his position as it is." She let out a small sigh. "There are plenty of things that don't make sense, like something's missing. But regarding Amon, if there's anything to make sense in this mess, we should keep things functional until then. Help this place keep being home."
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Edelweiss slight chastising made Wern wince. “Sorry.” He whispered toward the coffee, listening to the guild leader’s words. Go on? But, that wasn’t as easy— not as easy for him. Yet, it seemed so effortless for her. Was that what it meant to be a guild leader? Do be effortless? To move on? Shrinking further, he bowed his head in shame. Edelweiss said not to take offense, but it was hard not to. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Not congratulations, nor acceptance, but well, denial hurt too much. Opened wounds that he already knew were valid. He wasn’t meant to be a guild leader. He shouldn’t be a guild leader. Yet, here he was. Part of him wanted to throw up. “Being home?” He echoed, almost cynically. When had this place ever been home? For the four months, no, six months —he couldn’t keep track— had he ever regarded Lodan as home? He had. And that, too, made him sick. “My home. It’s crumbling around us, Edelweiss. How can I keep a guild functioning when the city can barely hold itself together?” Amon had held it together. But he wasn’t Amon. If only.
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Mar 3, 2016 6:36:39 GMT
"Yes, home." She settled her cup of coffee back at the table, staring at the depths of that dark liquid as if it held the miracle she needed... maybe that was it. "...I need a miracle, Wern. Both of us need a miracle. You said you can't believe Amon is dead, but if you're right - like I wish you are - then he just lost his home too, and wanting or not you're the one with power to either maintain or destroy it for when he's back."
"Guilds exist so that their members can have a place to call their own, and a place to return whenever they need. A Leader doesn't work for themselves, but for their workers, and sometimes you'll have to leave your crumbling heart at home to be able to do your job." It's not only Wern who had shaky hands, or who felt like struggling against tears. Her cheek felt wet, but it was just one drop. Did he think she is heartless? What did he want her to say? It's not like she congratulated Lasair or Danny, or even Amon, when she found out they were guild leaders or became so. As long as they loved their guilds it was a great job, but it wasn't an easy one nor meant to be actively fun. It just wasn't something she could think of about in the sense that Wern had been 'promoted' and it should be celebrated. Frankly, she didn't feel like celebrating anything right now and still wouldn't celebrate anything even if Sveden waltzed through the streets holding white flags and the population crowned her Queen on a throne of doughnuts. Did that mean she was rejecting Wern or thinking he was unworthy of his place? No, by no means. "I can't tell you how to do the job. All I can advice you is to not lose focus trying to copy Amon, or me, or anyone else. You don't have his talents, but you have your own. Make sure you'll keep doing what you do best, and improve yourself in the manner you can. That's all... all that can be done..."
A miracle? Wern stared at the redheaded nymph. She needed a miracle— Amon, needed a miracle? The weight of that statement; it pressed down against Wern, and he shrunk. He had the ability to ruin Amon’s home. He didn’t want that responsibility. He couldn’t handle that responsibility. Because, even if he worked, even if he toiled to keep it the same, or even to make it better, there was no guarantee that he would succeed. And that terrified him. And his crumbling heart? It wasn’t just his crumbling heart that hindered the mechanic. He knew to keep it aside. But that wans’t what he was worried about— but then, what was he worried about?
“I don’t want to work for myself. I want to work for Amon. I don’t want to let people down, Edelweiss. I’m not strong, like you, like Amon. You tell me not to copy, to not worry about that, but me—“ Wern looked to his hands. They were worn. Calloused. Shaking. “But people won’t see me as a leader— I don’t see me as a leader. So please. Tell me. Help me.” Holding out his hands, he hesitated some, reaching out to take Edelweiss’ own. The mechanic saw the lone tear, and felt his own. Except, he held it back, held back that sadness. His voice though— the small man couldn’t hide the emotion in his voice. It revealed his own pain, his own concern, his own confusion. “Help me search for Amon, Edelweiss. For the sake of the guild. I can maybe keep it a float for a little bit but,” Wern lowered his head. “Amon is the true leader. And I know, I can feel it.” Or maybe he just wanted it so much that he felt it was real? “I know he isn’t dead.”
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
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