Closed In Sickness and in Health

(Allister) Two newly minted bondmates battle through the summer plague.

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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

In Sickness and in Health

Postby Madeira Craven on August 19th, 2017, 5:39 am

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90th of Summer, 517


Emma Chamelle starred unblinkingly from one side of the bed, while Madeira sat propped up against the wall on the other. The ghost's head was cocked to the side, her expression thoughtful.

"Are you going to die?"

Madeira tried to smile and reassure the girl that she was ok, but only half her face responded. The pull of her mouth left tiny fissures in her scorched lips and the rash crawling across her cheek . Her voice was made of burning paper and shattered glass.

"No, kitten."

"Is Mister Hyena going to die?"

“I won’t let him.”

"Oh."

The ghost leaned forward and tenderly pressed her cold hand into Madeira's forehead. The ghost's touch was uncomfortable at the best of times. But tonight, against her fever-fried skin, the cold lanced through her. Madeira gritted her teeth against a whimper as tears sprung to her bloodshot eyes.

Madeira's left leg had stopped moving several bells ago, and her neck and half her face were slowly going numb. She was stripped to her small clothes, yet her body was streaked in sweat. The cottage shivered like a mirage around her. And if she could just lift her arms and wave it away, she imagined there would be something beautiful behind it. But she didn't have the strength. There was something in her head, a little monster growing bigger every bell, that was gorging itself itself on her strength and pushing hard against the inside of her skull. She imagined it latched to her spine, sucking her dry. Her bones felt as brittle as matchsticks, her dry, aching skin was flaking off as a powder as fine as moth dust. Every wave of fever heat came with the fear that this time she would go up in flames, trapped in her tinder body.

"If you die", the little girl continued, "can I still stay with you? Raj wants to stay, too."

Emma died of an illness, Madeira recalled, and her bondmate died shortly after. She wanted to be strong and show the girl that the same thing would not happen to herself or her own bondmate, but she was unravelling at the seams. She was sick and hurt and in pain. She did not want to be strong anymore.

"Go find Jomi, kitten."

"Why?"

"Right now, please."

"What if he's mean to me?"

Madeira choked on her laugh, and dark spots skittered across the white walls like splashes of ink. The monster sucked the breath from her lungs and its claws raked the inside of her skull.

"Then tell him Maddy will kick his butt."

Reluctantly Emma began drifting away, her back fading through the stone wall. She paused and bit her lip, and when she looked up again, her big brown eyes were beseeching. But she didn't say anything. With a whisper of wind Emma vanished.

When the last wisp of the ghost girl disappeared, Madeira let herself go. Her head rolled to her chest, her neck snapping forward like a cut wire. Her body began to shake, first starting in the tips of her fingers, then rolling through her like a rough sea. Allister ran through her mind, and behind him ran her guilt. She was suppose to look after him. She promised to look after him! He was sick and in pain, and just knowing that caused the moisture in her eyes to spill over. Allister, Emma and Jomi were all her responsibility and she could do nothing.
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In Sickness and in Health

Postby Allister on August 23rd, 2017, 4:07 am

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Somewhere on the streets of Alvadas...


Alvadas was relatively quiet for a summer evening. The winding streets were a littered with signs of the sickness but those responsible had either move on or were removed. The people responsible for making sure the ever-changing maze remained unobstructed had obviously been busy. The lanky form of an outsider struggled with each step but managed to continue. Ghastly pale and speckled with black and green ink, Allister walked aimlessly since he had learned that having a purpose in this strange city only seemed to add to one’s frustration. He needed medicine. She needed medicine –badly. However, none of this removed the metallically enhanced smile from his face. Life was infinitely better now than it was a year ago.

Many days had passed since Madeira had come into the kelvic’s life. In that short time, the hyena had not only become attached to the young woman but bonded. Within the confines of that phenomenon, the strange apparition of a man had grown fond of her arrogance and stubborn yet alluring nature. Most people might think her an odd duck but Allister was far from most and even further removed from average. The recently freed slave was beginning to learn that being strange held its own advantages. For instance, normal people didn’t walk down the street stark naked but for a kelvic who was overheating from some strange fever, it suited him perfectly. It had been a stroke of incredible genius and extreme fortune that the kelvic had thought about movement in the city before he left Madeira's cottage. If he had to shift, clothes would only be something that he had to retrieve at a later time so he stripped in the doorway and left. The warmish air kissed the sweat which clung to his alabaster skin and helped to keep the pounding of his headaches at bay. He was still hot and still dizzy but not like the first day after the bites.

Allister’s mind was fragile for many reasons and the sudden onslaught of this strange disease had nearly broken him but Madeira, despite her own ailment, had shared her strength with him. It was because of her that he had gotten through the worst of his symptoms and now it was his turn to return the favor. A gurgle pinched a line across his abdomen and it buckled the man against a subwall. The stones were loose and worn from years of weather so tiny pebbles and rock beads embedded themselves into the kelvic’s clammy palms. “Ai-yah petch!” Allister squeaked through a sore throat and bile-seared lips. He stared at the foreign invaders to his skin and the strangely bright red blood that trickled down from a few places then erupted into a fit of coughing that brought him to his knees in a folded up mess. His back heaved and the lungs inside his exposed ribs wheezed under the strain of trying to recover so much air.

Several chimes went by and the kelvic got back up on shaking knees. Directly across the street was Ionu’s Mercy. Allister laughed a chuckle that was a mixture of relief and his usually raspy hyena cackle. The hollowness of his tone added a tinge more creepiness as the sounds bounced off of the marble face of the traveling hospital. The kelvic took a handful of long bounds then leaped through the main door. He crashed into a cart of gods know what which sent him to the ground with a new set of bruises and the cart up against the nearest body.

“If! You! Please!” A tiny voice cried out from behind the reception desk.

Allister looked up but saw no one. He cocked his head to one side and felt the blood shift which made him fall back down on his cheek. The cold stone cooled his body to the point of having chills but he ignored it. Somewhere deep inside his soul, he could feel the seizure take hold of his mistress and it made his skin crawl. In the most ungentlemanly of ways, the kelvic sat on his bum and dug at his skin with fingers and toes in what looked like a seizure. A chime later, he rolled to his hands and knees then crawled to the desk. He used the furniture to help him stand though any trace of his disease or stumbles was hidden beneath red streaks and tiny weeping slits in his deathly pale skin. With a glassy stare and shimmering teeth, he leaned up to the Pycon, shaped like some kind of fruit and fish combination then smiled from ear to ear. The intensity in his face caused the clay thing to gasp.

“Ionu’s garbage, boy! What’s happened to you?” The creature moved back a few inches and Allister suddenly felt awkward. He lifted his head and reversed the angle of his neck inquisitively.

“Me? HA!” He smacked his hands together only to cringe at the shockwave it sent through his tired and sore bones. “Your whole city couldn't fix my kind of broke-“ Another fit of coughing ripped itself from his lungs. This time, flecks of blood covered the arm that covered his mouth. The wide grin tattoo now looked like it had taken a blow from some kind of mailed fist. “Miss Craven,” he continued- but his voice was no longer silly and strange. A forceful, almost respectable tone passed through the metal walls. “She has the fever. I need to make her better.”

The Pycon shifted when the tone changed. She wondered if she was being toyed with but the soft sigh must have been triggered by the reminder of where she was. “Fill out this small form and then wait for the doctor.” She pushed a card almost as big as she was up to the desk’s edge. This did not sit well with Allister. He growled deep in his chest and the knock of the hyena suddenly became apparent.

Before he could say or do anything stupid, a doctor rounded the corner and saw the naked man with bloody arms and a wild expression. As the man approached, he looked to the Pycon. “Galladia, is this man afflicted?”

The shrill laughter which rang up into the high ceilings then reverberated back down was enough to chill the fire within Ivak’s heart. The Pycon, the doctor and several others present all took a step back from the grinning kelvic. Allister softly reached out and put a hand on the doctor’s coat. His face was beaming like a child at a festival and the candle light was reflected off f his flat metal teeth which seemed to make him twinkle. “Miss Craven is sick.” Allister’s voice was very low and had an edge that was foreign to him but it sounded final like when Madeira told that ghost boy he had been behaving badly. “Give me what I need to heal her and I will go.” Allister released the man. In the drop of a Miza, the grim, set jaw went slack and the forceful man was replaced by a sick noodle. The hyena leaned against the desk and used the strong corner of the countertop to scratch at a place next to his middle spine. His face flushed with relief which would have made housewives blush and respectable men jealous.

The doctor watched for a moment with mouth agape then nodded to the request. He wrote up a list and handed it to the Pycon to record who then passed it to an orderly who was some kind of purple behemoth (a fact Allister found hilarious but he refrained from showing it for fear of being turned to power). A few chimes later and he had a bag full of supplies including some fresh water that supposedly held some kind of concoction which was supposed to combat the bug-born disease.

2 Bells Later…


Allister finally stumbled back to the steps of the cottage. Exhausted, furious and completely in pain, he was barely able to lift the latch but managed. Inside were his clothes but to save time, he simply donned his big ole leather duster and cinched it shut in the front like a robe. Sweat poured from him when the door was disturbed by a knock. The kelvic set the basket down and turned to see a man and child outside.

“Please, sir. We need water.”

Allister opened the door and handed the man the coins from his pocket (about 5 GM worth in various pieces). “Go away.” It was the forceful tone again which coupled with his drastic appearance was enough to chase off the duo. When the kelvic closed the door and turned back towards the stairs, his body shivered uncontrollably until he stumbled to his hands and knees. Leaning near the basket, the hyena waited for it to pass before taking up his haul of relief devices and potions. Getting to Madeira’s room seemed to take forever but the lanky fool managed to get the job done. He knocked softly on the door then entered with his head down and basket presented in front of his feeble form.

Being near Madeira was intoxicating. Allister couldn’t explain it if someone asked but seeing her, smelling her- even in this weakened and tarnished state- invigorated him with a sense of purpose and power that he had never experienced before. He quickly went about laying the items on the table near her window. All in all there were two canteens of fresh water which felt remarkably cool, a vial of some cloudy blue liquid and a whole bag of sponge pieces from the sea. They’d been rinsed and could be used to administer water sine most people with the illness would vomit if it was imbibed directly. He opened one canteen and sniffed it cautiously; his canine abilities kicking in and detecting nothing suspicious. Next, he opened the vial and sniffed it which caused his stomach to wretch but he did not waiver in his stance or grip. Allister swallowed hard the ball of burning stomach acid and added three drops to the open canteen as indicated by three ticks on the label of the vial. He took a handful of sponges and turned with the mixture then knelt next to Madeira. His eyes pleaded with her to show mercy for in his mind, his tardiness was a punishable offense.

“Lady, do not be angry with me. I have medicine from the big white building to heal you.” His voice was so soft, if a mouse had sneezed, the words might have disappeared. Allister delicately took a sponge and pressed it to the mouth of the canteen which he slowly turned until he could feel the water moisten the piece. He righted the bottle and held the sponge out to dab upon her lips but only brought it most of the way. He wouldn’t dare touch her without permission. More than her words- Allister longed to feel Madeira through their bond. He wanted to experience that tingle and rush when she appreciated him. At the very least, he didn’t want to feel her disappointment.

Allister’s throat was parched and possibly raw from his own illness but he still forced out another question. “Shall I sing for you?”
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In Sickness and in Health

Postby Madeira Craven on August 28th, 2017, 7:26 pm

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Madeira knew Allister was close before he even opened the door. Her brain was cooking in her skull, and she couldn't feel half her body, but she could feel him. She still didn't understand it, not fully. The bond had become another sense, one that orbited around the Kelvic, and she was sure she would be spending a lifetime growing into it.

As he entered the cottage shimmered around him, but every line of his body was sharp in her eye. She studied the flush of purple under his eyes, and the the swollen red line of his gum. His skin was the colour of lead paste, interrupted by the pink gash of his mouth and a map of black and green that threw a thicket of permanent shadow. He wasn’t pretty. In fact, she could confidently state he was one of the ugliest creatures she had ever seen. But the very sight of his hunched, starved body brought a smile to her lips, and caused contentment to wash through her.

He fiddled with some concoction on the table, then kneeled beside the bed next to her dead leg, and spoke with a kind of speckled softness that didn't belong in a metal mouth. His anticipation was a hungry, electric thing, that pulled at their shared bond. It frustrated he that she didn't know how to look deeper into this feeling to discover what he was expecting. She lifted her hand to the soft, small sprouts of his hairline and tugged, pulling him to eye level. Then her hand fell to the plunge of his coat collar and traced the bird skull the nestled in the shadow under his collarbone.

"Thank you. You did really well", she praised him. In her mind she swept over their bond, kneading out the sparks of anxiety and insecurity that fed from him. She opened her mouth and accepted the moisture at her lips, but she had barely swallowed before her stomach bucked in pain, and the monster in her head turned restlessly. She turned her head away and fought the hot wash of acid in her throat.

"A song?" she gasped instead, trying to buy more time before she tried the water again. "I would like to hear a song. Sit with me", she patted the empty space beside her. "But drink some water first."

She didn't need the bond to know he was not up to singing right now. The shallow dips of his ropey chest and the dry scrape of his voice was enough to know that. But she was also just beginning to understand that he was happiest when he was wanted, or useful. He wanted to entertain her, and in doing so he would be happy. What he wanted and what was healthy for him rarely ever seemed to be the same thing, she was discovering. Her eyes dropped to the hand holding the sponge, and saw the dots of coagulating blood on his palm and the skin under his nails. The corners of her eyes tightened.

"You've hurt yourself again. Were you scratching?”
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In Sickness and in Health

Postby Allister on September 25th, 2017, 2:16 am

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Allister beamed. Maderia’s words were amplified by the pulses of approval and gratitude that she pushed across the bond. He smiled to reveal his metal grin and its sinister shadows that always stretched over the shallow places on his face. He prepared another sponge of remedy for her by turning the canteen into the weird material then put the medicine bottle on her night stand. The doctor had said it would be slow going but worth its due diligence. A shiver curled up his spine which triggered the rash which covered his back. The hyena twisted his body for a moment to which his long leather jacket creaked. The friction of his clammy skin and the coat’s material did enough to ease his plight. At her behest, he stole a quick drink of water into his parched mouth then replaced the bottle.

When the dainty hand patted the bed next to her, the hyena curled up in the space next to her torso and head. It would have looked strange to see such a large man pull himself into such a tiny space. He dangled the sponge in a haphazardly way near her mouth while she spoke to him –almost questioning his desire to entertain her but her focus shifted to the fresh wounds on his hand. Allister laughed. He couldn’t help it but the tiny scrapes barely registered with him given the abuse he had once become accustomed. He stared at the puffy skin that surrounded the multiple holes and tears in the meat of his hand. He sniffed the area for a moment then licked at the dried up pocks of blood. The metallic taste sat well with his tongue and the beady eyes shifted back to Madeira as the Kelvic flattened himself out just a breath away. He could feel her pain and discomfort through the bond and it saddened him.

Allister would gladly steal her pain away. He had often thought about it and what he might say to a god or powerful wizard in order to achieve such a gift. The Kelvic would take twice the pain for twice as long if he could spare the people he cared about their own misery. Sadly, he knew very little of the gods but he figured they wouldn’t care about a skinny case of weird like him. Regardless, the perfect person had accepted his proposal for a private performance and the ghastly man was not one to disappoint. He cleared his throat as he shifted through some of the songs that he had been taught as a slave. The perfect words, as always, floated through his mind and the tune quickly followed.

The hyena began to drum his fingers against his thigh which was covered by the thick leather jacket. The tapping rhythm floated about in a choppy, unrecognizable way for several moments before the pattern clearly emerged. Once the consistency was apparent, a soft voice broke from behind the pale lips and metal teeth as the black eyes pierced the skull of Madeira’s blonde head.

“I've been searching all of my life
I used to be so color blind
You opened up my eyes”

His voice was a bit shaky at first but part of that was the struggle he had with trying to maintain a soft tone and low volume. As his volume crept higher, the power in his lungs pushed out a raspy sound that seemed to fill in the gaps of his untrained pitch.

“Do you wanna share your dreams
See a different side of me
You’re everything I need

I like it when you think out loud
Things you say when you know
There is no one else around
I can dig my own graves now
The way you smile I try to crawl my way out”

Allister brought his throat to tighten and reach the higher note on his last word. The sustain he propelled was a bit weak but it let Madeira know that he was building up for the chorus. As he sang the words, his eyes were always focused on her unless they closed so he could maximize his concentration. The feelings he pushed through the bond were involuntary and simply reflected the lyrics. Madeira had become his world and if she didn’t know it- she soon would. His voice became fuller as he belted through the chorus. It was higher in his range and demanded more air for sustaining some of the notes but he seemed to manage it well despite the constant huffing of air that such a melody required.

“There is no one like you
If there worlds in black and white you’re the only one in color
There's is no one like you
It’s a mystery I've started
We should keep it all uncovered
You are the only one in color.”

The end of the chorus dropped back down in the scale and in volume which caused a problem for the singer. He erupted in a coughing fit that pulled his already curled frame into a tighter ball as well as shook the bed. Allister stuffed his hand against his mouth to catch the flecks of blood in his palm. The spasm went on for a few ticks and then when it passed, Allister remained hidden from Madeira. He felt like a failure in his profession of admiration for his bond mate. His cheeks burned in shame almost as bad as the rash on his back or the fire in his lungs from a lack of air. The hyena debated reverting to his beastly form just so he could slink away and bury himself in a dark corner.
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In Sickness and in Health

Postby Madeira Craven on September 27th, 2017, 5:53 am

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Madeira closed her eyes, letting Allister's soft, scratchy song drown the monster in her head. The Kelvic was too close. His fever heat mingled with hers, burning away whatever sweat their bodies managed to produce. Yet she didn't move away, and she wouldn't even if she could.

She didn't recognize the song, but she recognized the reverence in her bondmate's voice. It was moving through her ear and crawling through their bond, where it sat like stones in the pit of her stomach. She had hungered for this strange idolization he showered her with since they met. It was her new addiction, her powerful new drug. Not just to be loved, but to be adored, venerated. She was the pillar he leaned against, the anchor that he used to keep himself from floating away. But now, broken and useless and in pain, his idolization was suddenly too much to carry.

She smiled, though. She smiled with the half of her mouth she could still feel, and traced the curling font below his hairline with the hand she could still lift. Because she was the anchor, and she couldn't let him float away.

Suddenly a wet cough rippled up from his belly, shredding his song to pieces as it passed. The bed shook, and the dark spots chased themselves across the surface of Madeira's eyes as her head shook with it. A wetness flecked her arm, and she rolled her eyes down and saw tiny drops of blood.

Allister curled himself against her side like he was trying to invert out of existence. His fist was stuffed in his mouth as he suffered the aftershocks of his fit. The bond fizzled shut between them as he hid himself in shame.

The monster laughed as it feasted on her confidence and shot spikes of worry into her numb body.

"No, no, Ally it's okay." she rasped. "It's okay. Come- come here. Ally."

She could feel his weakness and she struggled to meet it. He was her responsibility. She had to take care of him. To take care of all of them. He needed her and she had to take care of him. That was the deal. That was how this worked. He fortified himself on her strength, and she bathed in that drug she didn't deserve.

"Ally, get up." A tears welled in her eyes and spilled in the corners. She didn't think there was enough liquid left in her body to cry. “You did well. I'm so proud." Something was bubbling up inside her, something sour and furious and afraid. "It's not your fault. I'm so proud." A brimming hysteria was bleeding through the cracks in her voice, and before she knew it she was shouting with a voice like broken glass, "You did so well! Oh gods. You did so well. Allister, get up!""

And just like that, something important inside Madeira Craven snapped. The scream aimed at her lap was cracked and broken, choked by her swollen throat. Tears washed her eyes open wide and alight with fury, then rolled endlessly down her cheeks. She screamed and screamed until there was nothing left, then she screamed some more. Every nerve in her body was lit with a thousand points of fire, the pressure in her head reached a crescendo and exploded behind her eyes. And in that moment she hated herself. Hate burned through her, fuelled by every failure and broken expectation, and despair smouldered in the ashes. She did not deserve Allister. She did not deserve Jomi. Emma needed better. They all needed better. She wasn't strong and they needed better.

Soon she was sucking in noisy, hysterical breaths. Unable to turn away Madeira sobbed into her hand like a child.
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In Sickness and in Health

Postby Allister on December 20th, 2017, 4:19 am

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The hyena was not prepared –nor even aware- of the situation that was about to be unleashed upon the duo of plague victims in the bedroom of the humble cottage. Nestled against the ever-changing streets of a city that took jollies by making citizens lose their way, Allister was staring at the backs of his eyelids while shame and whispered doubt flooded his mind. Softly, like a gentle breeze awakening the flowers of spring, her voice soaked through the nonsense that threatened to freeze him in a place of fear and isolation. Behind her voice was this wave of emotion and acceptance that was like a warm bath of the finest oils and perfumes. The cold sweats, shaking lungs and painful visions all fled before this onslaught of love. Surely, that’s what this was…or at least that’s what the Kelvic told himself. No one other than Madison had ever made him feel this way.

Here and now, Madeira had embraced his gift and spoke beautiful things into his mind while casting soft silken strands that beckoned him to become entangled in her life’s web. Like a moth to the flame, he flew; slow and steady. Closer he drew, reaching his body into her touch that seared him like holy fire. Gods were a lie. Freedom was a lie. This was truth.

She is the only truth.

The warmth disappeared. Shattered like a mirror of crystal and glass, the shards tore at the man’s body and spirit but he stood unmoved like a tree amidst a hurricane. Hearing Madeira scream made him wince but he felt her pain through the bond and it angered him. He was not mad that she was pushing her troubles on him –quite the opposite. The sudden realization of a life’s goal, true purpose, filled every fiber of his being. Allister would turn over every stone, read every scroll and kill every martyr’s priest until he found a way to steal her pain. Perfection such as the Craven’s black sheep was built to amaze and endure. A gift that walked and talked should not have to suffer through the normal sludge of life as regular mortals do. In the bond, he reached for her and tugged at her agony with his dulled black claws.

“Don’t be afraid.” Her insecurities reverberated like a joke that never should have been told simply because it was painful and not funny. Shifting his body around so that his legs were underneath his core with crossed ankles, the hyena rode the scream like a wave. He hadn’t been drowned in the Suvan and he wouldn’t die here; not while she needed him. The backswing of the pendulum was breathtaking as Allister began to see just how strong the bond actually was. It wasn’t that he needed her, not by itself. That was only part of the equation for it seemed that his minuscule talents had bearing had usefulness to the goddess laid low before him.

When Madeira’s screams became tears and muffled sounds, she rolled away from him. Shame. Recognizing the pain and low feeling that was so common for the hyena, he instantly purged himself of any selfish wallowing. He extended his long arms, the fever making him regret it with pins and needles as his heart struggled to circulate enough nutrients to the thin muscles. The bony fingers gently curled around Madeira’s shoulders. He lifted her from the bed but not to drag her back against him. Instead he flexed the sour stomach with a monstrous grin and scooted his body underneath hers. He lowered the heiress down into his lap and stroked the hair away from her tacky forehead and cheeks.

“You are worth everything.” He folded as much as he could and pushed his hips up to his shoulders and his chin down until he could almost touch his forehead against her own. The heat they shared could melt the finest of weapons and something within the man suddenly ached; a feeling that was so foreign that Allister didn’t believe he had felt it. “There’s no greater dream in my life because of you.” His whispered and raspy words dripped with the pitch and tone of a man who longed to sing his heart’s chorus but the volume was also akin to a fellow who knew his lady needed soft speech.

His thoughts strayed how can I help her? A smile ripped apart the pasty mess of sweat and pale skin to reveal his metal grill and beady eyes. The tone he used was light and cheerful but just above a whisper. “Madeira…I’m going to tell you a story.” Allister relaxed his body and drew them closer together, his legs supporting most of her upper body while his arms entangled them both in blankets and one another until his index and middle fingers came to rest on her temples. Slowly and in unison, the points of pressure gently began to rub circles against her temples. The quiet hushed tone filled the room as the hyena’s sing-song pattern of speech exploded into a tale meant to lighten the mood of his bond mate.

“There was once a world that longed for love and perfection. The gods were many and filled it with many beautiful creations and feelings. You see, these gods wanted, more than anything, to make the people happy. It is how they gained worship and reverence.” He cleared his throat and continued while maintaining his massaging techniques. “Over time, love and perfection were found but it always seemed to be fleeting. Time and time again, there was nothing created that could hold the joy of the world for very long. This is how time passed for season after season…year after year. The cycle went on for so long that the people forgot about their desire. Petch, even most of the gods forgot.” He coughed and laughed as he wiped the spittle of blood from his lips with his upper arm. “But then.. ahhhh, but then, my dear Madeira, one of the gods got it right.” Leaning down and lowering his voice to just a breath, the former slave whispered straight against the blonde hair. “Somebody created you.”

His back ached and complained at the posture so the hyena took advantage of a shiver that shot up his spine to sink his body lower beneath hers. His bond mate was now two-thirds entrenched against him with her shoulder blades digging into his ribs. He slipped his legs out and along her sides to form a gangly cocoon around her thin, sickly body. “So here you are, the embodiment of love, perfection and all that is right with the world… and this is why we’re here now.” The smile rang across his pallid face once more. “You’re sick and in pain because someone in the god realm is jealous of you. Madeira Craven, you are everything a human should be and more.” He gave her a firm squeeze. “Whoever is jealous took pains to make sure you felt this bad. He or she is out to destroy the power you hold. They inflicted the whole city with disease just to get to you.” Craning his neck and using his hands to twist her face so that she could see him, Allister stared into the light eyes tinged with broken blood vessels and a fevered glaze. “But this is not the end of your story.” His face was serious as death on Dira’s isle but his voice was climbing in pitch and volume.

“You will rise above this and one day you will know I’m right.” It was strange to the Kelvic that he was so sure of anything but for some reason his entire existence seemed to support his words. “As long as you’ll have me, I’ll help you- blessed to be a shadow of your greatness. In return, I wi-…” A coughing fit shook him so badly that he released her head in fear of hurting the frail girl. When it passed, blood hung from his lips in stark contrast to the bone color of his face and empty black fires of his eyes. “One day, Madeira Craven, I will find a way to take your pain away… not just sickness or bad thoughts but all of it. If there’s a god who will show me the way, I’ll love him. If there’s a god whose blood needs spilled so you never have to cry again…I will drain him.” An eerie silence filled the room as his shallow wheezing breaths tried to catch up to his maniacal ramblings. His hand softly stroked her sweat-soaked hair. “You will never be more beautiful than you are right now because perfect cannot be improved upon and you have been without flaw since I saw you in the street chasing a ghost. Forever the rest of your days, you will always be perfect…” The man encapsulated Madeira against his body despite chills and a screaming headache. The blood on his lips began to pool on the tip of his lower lip but he paid it no mind. “For you, Madeira…I will do anything.”

WC1771+1520; silver
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Pain without love is meaningless
Love without pain is selfish
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Allister
The Answer to Boredom
 
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In Sickness and in Health

Postby Madeira Craven on February 12th, 2018, 1:48 am

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Her outburst had left her empty, like a glass with no more water left to spill. Madeira was limp and unresponsive as she let herself be manhandled by the Kelvic. Allister's arms were uncomfortable, all sinew and skin wound hard and tight around the bone, but he wasn’t trying to make her comfortable. With them he wrapped her body in his like a cage, to keep her safe from everything that meant her harm. Their skin turned a flush red as the feverish heat passed between them, but she sank into his touch. She would rather be burning than alone.

Long fingers, rough with labour and textured with scars, found the soft, raw hollows above her ears and applied gentle pressure. The eye that could still move rolled blindly and fluttered closed as the roaring monster in her head purred.

She could smell the blood on Allister's breath as he told his story. It was a story about a creature so great the gods could only grow jealous of their own creation. And that creature was her, the broken waif of a ward. Yet when Allister turned her head in his hands and forced her to look at him, she imagined she could see that greatness that he saw reflected in the black pit of his eye.

In her fevered state she was saw it in shapes and colours and an incredible lightness. She stood tall and powerful, able to hold everything she loved out of reach of those who would take it from her. And Allister, the soul she was tied to, was the shield keeping her out of reach of anything that wished her harm. With everything she loved at her back, and her partner before her, they were rising. Fast and faster they flew. Anything in their way was either overcome or torn apart. Until at the end everything from expectations to gods were at their feet, and they stood the best of all of them.

The Kelvic was suddenly overcome with another coughing fit. Strands of saliva and blood hung from his red gash of a mouth as he hacked and hacked.

"My Allister", she rasped, and words echoed hollowly in her empty husk of a body. Her good arm snaked out to cup his cheek, and both their burning nerves and Kelvic bond sparked with the contact. She knew he wasn't lying. The bond sang with the truth of it. He would do anything for her. Did even the gods know loyalty like this?

No the gods never could have. Nothing could have. This loyalty was madness gone sour with maniacal love. And this maniacal love was nothing but worship on fire. And this worship was madness. It turned itself around and around into a prefect storm. But then if he was going to be her champion she had to be his god. Right then she vowed that he would never be hungry or unloved. He would be healthy and clean and cared for as long as she lived. She would never be weak again, she couldn’t. She would work hard and make sure he wanted for nothing. He saw her as perfect, as his purpose, so that's exactly what she would be.

“My poor Allister. If brokenness was art, you would be such a… beautiful masterpiece.” she breathed, her voice slurring as she sunk further and further into her fever. “If you promise… to protect me, I promise to deserve it. But don’t leave me. Never leave me. I can lose everything, but not you. Oh god. Not you…”
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In Sickness and in Health

Postby Allister on February 18th, 2018, 9:55 pm

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There was a moment when everything stopped as if suspended in midair. Breath, life and thought all intersected upon the vision of the young spiritist. Madeira was staring into the black eyes of her Kelvic and he was watching the idea take hold in her mind. She gets it! He realized. The sudden revelation sent explosions through the bond from both ends towards the middle. The power she now saw in herself was ignited with a purpose far greater than just work or existence. Singing voices announced the solidification of their union in the mind of the hyena. Allister was already sold on being an extension of thin woman but now he felt something that he didn’t recognize.

Their cursed bodies scorched one another but Madeira sank into him. Every rough patch of cloth, every fevered piece of skin and every lock of sweaty hair that touched him was noticed, studied and catalogued in the hectic mind of the former slave. This imperfection bestowed upon her was a crime but it had offered the two of them a chance to get their relationship sorted; give it perspective. The softness of her sickened tone and the words she uttered brought tears to the corners of his eyes. ‘My Allister’. Madeira had claimed him. Their bond brought them together without reason - or so it seemed at times - but this was intentional. Allister leaned into her hand and closed his eyes. The burning palm and seering fingers almost made him ill and sent his mind spiralling to places that made his cheeks even hotter. He chased the selfish urges that bubbled in places long dormant using the shimmering model of power that was Madeira.

Allister wrapped his arms tightly around her form, slick with the sweat of fever. He smiled so wide it hurt his face but her words consumed him like a raging fire. The pain he felt, the insignificance he carried around with his bent form and even the ugly black reminders needled into his skin- all count for something now that Madeira was his. “I’ll protect you, Madeira...always.” The black eyes closed and thoughts of wonderous adventures filled his mind with Madeira shining atop each and every one. “The gods couldn’t keep me from you.”
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Pain without love is meaningless
Love without pain is selfish
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Allister
The Answer to Boredom
 
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In Sickness and in Health

Postby Alexandra Gainsborough on April 8th, 2018, 4:12 pm

Grades Awarded!

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Allister

Skills
  • Endurance: 1xp
  • Investigation: 1xp
  • Singing: 1xp
  • Storytelling: 1xp
  • Persuasion: 1xp
  • Intimidation: 1xp

Lores
  • Alvadas- Purpose adds to frustration
  • Kelvic - The strength of bonds
  • Madeira - Give me strength
  • Misc. - Being odd give you an advantage
  • Misc. - Even the smallest talents are useful.

Awards & Retribution
Donation: -5gm

Madeira

Skills
  • Endurance: 2xp
  • Observation: 1xp
  • Persuasion: 1xp

Lores
  • Allister - Being useful brings him joy
  • Allister - Member of the Cult of Madeira
  • Allister & Madeira - Two are stronger then one.
  • Kelvic - The strength of bonds

Awards & Retribution


Notes
This is my first grade. Please let me know if I missed something. I aim to improve. This was a heart wrenching read.
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