[IC/OOC] Fade Rift Inbox & Contact

[faithlikeaseed]

(( Need to get a hold of Myr? Drop him a line. Notes, in-person visits, sending crystals, spooky Fade dream shenanigans, you name it. Just specify the type of contact in the first comment of the thread and away we go.

Need to get a hold of the player? Plagueheart#0051 @ Discord or a DW PM is the easiest! ))

Comments

[faithlikeaseed]

I,

[it isn't what he'd expected; his heart catches in his throat. one can say of the tranquil that they are consistent and rational--

one can't say they forgot any of themselves, lives not lost but placed in abeyance like bulbs slumbering beneath frost. sometimes even he needs that reminder.

(the forest. the rift. the hitch in casimir's voice.)]

Recovering. The abbey was a horror.

I'd forgotten, [faintly rueful] how well the Maker loves symmetry. [you saw it in leaves, in flowers, in faces. in events, the axis of reflection drawn through the space between past and future.

what was done in a moment of terror had to be undone likewise; what he had not seen in the aftermath of hasmal remained unresolved until ferelden.

quietly,] I'd intended to tell you of it.

[and perhaps he should have done it sooner; but it required defleshing the bones of what had happened to strip emotions from events and that was an act of surgery that needed a steadier heart than his had been.]

[aestivation]

I know. [ casimir had always wanted to know, and he wasn't alone in that; intent stuck certain between them as the black back of a mirror. ] Thank you.

[ for whatever that's worth; a limitation which might frustrate were that any more possible. there are other things that he intends to say: i think this has been difficult for you. i think that might matter. if action is divine, then you must concede there's substance to a rational love.

but they each require their own interpretation. ask an effort that would strike against the purpose of the statement. and he is still (not a bed in a ward) recovering (hands pressed to absence).

instead: ]

What have you seen?

[faithlikeaseed]

Gladly. [because there are reasons yet to be glad; because in casimir's case he clings to hope and what should be with all ten fingers.

the question's cause for hesitation, then a spilling list like a child's catalogue of his day:] A rift. Demons and a dying abbey; the wreckage of women once kind and brave. The ocean and fog in the harbor and the Gallows at last.

It's the strangest thing--to not know anyone's faces. To've been greeted by total strangers on coming home, knowing they were people I'd lived among for months but not knowing who they were. [it makes him wonder: how will it be to be freed from the brand in like conditions--to be surrounded by those known only through one set of perceptions and look at them with another.

or to recognize all at once how old friends had changed in a way once imperceptible.] It makes the ones I recognize the more precious.

[breath in, breath out.] What else would you hear? My time's yours, [for as long as you like it, he does not say, knowing it doesn't apply. not like that.]

[aestivation]

The ocean, [ not an answer, but a rumination. ] Do you remember the dunes?

[ the similar manner of it: vast, shifting — not a reflection of sky but a fraction within it. perhaps it's a bit like that (analogies): divining the new from the familiar. faces from words, bodies from mass. ]

[faithlikeaseed]

I dream them still. As far as the horizon and beyond it, into the Silent Plains. [with home perched on the edge of that entire sea of sand.]

They were nearly alive, weren't they? We saw them move from year to year, the wind remaking them.