Closed [Sunset Quarters] Ode to Broken Things

A rebuilding project sees the collapse of a home, and a rescue operation begins.

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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[Sunset Quarters] Ode to Broken Things

Postby Naeya on November 16th, 2013, 12:37 am

Ode to Broken Things

"May whatever breaks
be reconstructed by the sea
with the long labor of its tides."

Pablo Neruda.

Timestamp: 78th Day of Fall, 513 AV

A chill wind swept through the street, weaving between sodden wood and toppled stone. It danced between raindrops, flew over sunken roofs and sailed through splintered doorways, leaving memories of winters past lying in its wake. Though it was daytime, the overcast sky created a grey gloom that hung over the city like a fog.

Naeya shivered and tightened her cloak, pulling the hood over her head to ward off the drizzling rain. She stood at the edge of the Sunset Quarters, regarding the damage the storm had wrought. She'd heard that these slums had been hit hardest by the storm, and, standing there now, she didn't doubt a word of it. Row upon row of cheap housing had either sunk into itself, collapsed completely, or become so waterlogged that there was no doubt it would soon crumble.

On the outskirts of the slums, a gathering of residents and foreigners alike worked to loose debris from the scene. For a city that prided itself on its lack of order, Naeya observed, they were surprisingly organized when it came to dealing with natural disasters. The populace had separated itself into three primary groups. The first concerned itself with clearing out debris from various houses, another sorted rubbish from salvageable material, and the last carried off the rubbish in carts and wheelbarrows toward the Slag Heap.

"What can I do to help?" she asked, approaching a balding man preoccupied with wheeling out a cart stacked with wood. Despite the stark differences between herself and the Sunberthians, this little slum had been her home for a season and it was not in her nature to shy away from offering her help. She may not have been as strong as many of the men, but she was able-bodied, hardworking, and could easily hold her own.

The man looked at her doubtfully for a moment before nodding toward a small group of people dutifully clearing out the remains of a broken home. "There," he replied, his voice rough with age. "They could use the extra pair of hands."

"Thank you!" Naeya called after the man as he ambled away. She brushed a stray streak of rain from her face and moved to join the workers. Her leather boots crunched over a discarded plate as she made her way over to the home. Halfway there, however...

BOOM.

A thunderous noise shook the slums, and Naeya's attention became consumed by the erratic collapse of a building just beyond her destination. A woman's shriek pierced the air, followed by urgent shouting, and several workers dropped their tasks and began to run toward the wreckage. Naeya realized she, too, had broken into a run.

She sprinted forward against the protests of her limbs, stiff from the cold. Her arms pumped as she darted around one worker after nearly crashing into another. She came to a hasty stop upon reaching the waterlogged edge of the collapsed building, inches away from knocking over the person in front of her. Her heart pounded from both concern and exertion, and her hood fell down, revealing worried green eyes beneath.

The konti turned to the person she'd almost run into, her voice frantic. "Was someone in there? Was anyone hurt?"
Last edited by Naeya on November 18th, 2013, 10:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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[Sunset Quarters] Ode to Broken Things

Postby Quint Caravel on November 16th, 2013, 10:18 am

Quint Caravel found himself at the wrong place at the wrong time. Though not as wrong as his friend Ardhain Bibkoda. The two of them had been skulking through the daytime streets of Sunberth as they planned their next job, a little side business they had going on when not running numbers or fencing illicitly acquired items.

Quint shook his head. "I just don't know about this, Ardhain."

Ardain Bibkoda was a large man with one discolored arm. "What's not to know, Quint? There's a power vaccuum in Sunberth right now. It's utter chaos on the streets. This damnable flood has done more damage than any dozen brigands could have managed."

Quint shrugged. He didn't have to be told twice about the flood. He had almost drowned in it. Five separate times.

He paused to scratch at an itch on the back of his neck. "I don't see what that has to do with this latest gig you want us to do."

Ardhain attempted to persuade his old friend. "It's a simple two-man job, but it will make a name for us. And it's quite clever, really. A little breaking-and-entering, a bit of finesse and confidence, a switch of one set of plans for another, a diversion and then the ultimate heist."

Quint wasn't convinced. He held up a hand like a guard stopping a traveler at the gates of Syliras. "I don't know. 86 things could go wrong with that plan."

He thrust his hands deep in his pockets and looked down at the ground

Ardhain clutched at his fake amulet. "It's the perfect plan! If it's not, may the gods strike me dead here and now!" He looked up and his eyes grew wide. "Quint! Look out!"

BOOM.

A thunderous noise shook the slums, and Quint felt himself shoved violently to the side by Ardhain, who did one last noble deed before succumbing to the sudden onslaught of a building falling on him. Whether it made up for a lifetime of petty crimes would be left for others to judge.

Quint found himself knocked to the street, pushed flat on his back by the combination of the shove and the deafening noise from the collapsing building. With his hands thrust into his pockets he was unable to use them to brace himself, and so he fell back and was knocked into a bit of a daze. It saved his life as the majority of the debris came down on Ardhain, but his dignity was wounded and he suffered many cuts and abrasions.
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[Sunset Quarters] Ode to Broken Things

Postby Naeya on November 24th, 2013, 3:48 am

"'ow the petch should I know if anyone was hurt?"

The brunette woman glared at Naeya with a look so scathing that it could have melted a vantha. She was the konti's height, but had the build of a farmer, the hands of a labourer, and the temper of Ivak. "I'm not a crazy petchin' wizzurd, y'know."

Naeya pushed passed the woman with a shake of her head, feeling a spark of anger ignite in her core. The gall! To be so disgustingly petulant in a time of disaster. She could feel the selfishness of the city wearing on her, like a weight on her shoulders or a brand on her heart.

Her only solace was that they were not all the same. Others, like herself, had rushed to the collapsed building and were gathering in small groups to discuss the best way to approach the cave-in. She had intended to join them, but the woman's words had incited clenched fists and a stubborn jaw. Best to take a moment to cool off, she decided, slogging through puddles as she eyed the wreckage. Besides, it would be good to investigate the accident before determining a plan of action.

She walked slowly and allowed her eyes to roam over the rubble. Part of the roof was still intact, but it seemed that most of the ceiling beams had fallen and the wooden walls had splintered. Her heart nearly stopped beating as she glimpsed a limb in the debris. The light rain obscured her vision as she knelt to get a closer look, and she squinted into the shadows. Was it...? Was it a...? No - no, it wasn't. Thank goddess. Closer inspection found the limb to simply be a faded, misshapen log.

Her investigation continued - though not for long.

Naeya took only two more steps before spotting him. A man - human - lay sprawled on his back in the middle of the narrow street with rubble from the broken house piled beside him. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and he didn't seem to be moving.

Please, Avalis, let him live, the konti prayed, rushing to the man's side. She dropped to her knees, heedless of the debris, and placed her right ear to his chest. Please let him be alive.

A pause. A heartbeat.

He was dazed, but he lived.

"How do you feel? Is anything broken?" Naeya asked as she straightened her head, unsure if he was conscious enough to respond. She reached out to brush a hand against the man's cheek, where small cuts had made their marks. She was hesitant to move him, and so remained kneeling at his side to await his acknowledgment.
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[Sunset Quarters] Ode to Broken Things

Postby Quint Caravel on November 25th, 2013, 6:07 am

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Some moments seemed to last a lifetime. Some lifetimes seemed to vanish in a moment. Such were the fates of men like Quint and Ardhain. Others-- perhaps the haughty brunette-- could and would attend to the latter. For the moment, for this moment, Quint found himself trying to focus on the woman. He wasn't sure if he was seeing her clearly or what was going on. He wasn't even quite sure who he himself was, truth be told, or what he was doing there.

He must have blacked out for a moment, or hit his head when he fell down, because he had the dream again. The strange dream he kept having all season long, filled with men and women of races he had never seen fighting and arguing in ways that he could not follow. There were some pleasant moments-- one young couple danced and another appeared to re-connect after a long separation-- but for the most part it was a rather terrible nightmare filled with strange sights and sounds and odd sensations.

Even so he might have continued to drift in and out of consciousness except that the Konti woman appeared and had dropped to her knees, kneeling beside him. The sudden movement caught his eye and he turned his head to her, then immediately regretted it; he lowered his head back down and winced.

A few more moments passed and he might have passed out again except that the woman called to him, asking if he was all right. It reminded him of his older sister Xiva, always asking him if he was okay. He stared off into the distance a moment. . .

Once, as a boy, he had seen an old salt of a sailor get accidentally harpooned in the thigh by his own casinor, just one of those fluke moments that had made Quint wonder as to the point of his sister's worship of Laviku. It was just a pure accident where no one was close enough to help; just before the man fell overboard into the deep blue sea, Quint had seen an expression of dazed confusion on the man's face, a look of shock on his face and a lack of focus in his eyes.

If a mirror was handy, he might have now recognized that look. He smiled at the Konti woman but he was seeing his sister. "Oh hey, Xiva. Hey big sister what are you doing here?" He pulled his hands out of his pockets and looked down at himself. "What am I doing here?"

He didn't understand her question. "Broken? What do you mean?" He moved his arms and legs around a bit, staring at his arms like a little boy having never seen them before. "Oh by the gods, my ring is gone! Your sister-in-law is going to kill me!" There was no tan line of lighter skin around his finger; he had stopped wearing it the day he had lost his love in the Djed storm. But right now he stared at his hand with utter sadness. "She is going to be so mad at me. I should have been home bells and chimes ago."

He looked around, rubbing his head. "Oh! Did someone mug me? I know this feeling, it's like being hit on the back of the neck with a sap. Where are all the knights and squires?"

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[Sunset Quarters] Ode to Broken Things

Postby Naeya on November 28th, 2013, 10:56 pm

As she watched the man attempt to orient himself to his surroundings, Naeya was reminded of a time not too long ago where she, too, had been knocked unconscious. She’d been lucky enough to have a kind soul stop to check on her well-being and ensure she made it home safely (and the longer she stayed in Sunberth, the more it was impressed upon her that she had been lucky). Now she hoped to pass on the favour.

She furrowed her brow as the stranger winced in pain when he turned his face toward her. “Ouch,” she said, eyes filled with quiet empathy. “Is it your neck, or your head? Might be best not to move, I think, at least for now.” Naeya rested her hand softly on the man’s shoulder with the intention of offering some comfort, before moving to unfasten her cloak. “Here,” she said, balling up the white cloak like a pillow and holding it out like an offering. If he agreed, she would slip it beneath his head. If not, she would leave it lying on her lap for the time being.

The clouds continued to drizzle, dotting the konti’s hair and eyelashes with dew. She brushed a raindrop from her nose and glanced briefly at the sky, wishing the clouds would disperse. The city was miserable enough without the added gloom

Naeya’s attention was pulled back to the man before her as he began to babble. Xiva? Big sister? Was he referring to her? It was all nonsense, a train of thought she couldn’t follow. His brain must have been addled by the building’s collapse. She frowned in response to his smile and peered more closely at his face. His eyes, a sea of blue, seemed clouded, fuzzy, unfocused. He was looking right at her, but his gaze was disconnected. He made her feel like she wasn’t real – a ghost of his making, a figment of his imagination.

At least nothing appeared broken. Except for his mind. Perhaps it would be best to play along in case he had really gone off the deep end. She didn’t want to shock him and risk shutting down all mental functioning. If that was even a risk at all; her memory of her mother’s medical teachings was a bit spotty.

“I’m sure we’ll find your ring, little brother,” she said soothingly. “But right now, I need you to focus on my hands. Can you do that for me?” Naeya held up two delicately webbed fingers. “How many fingers do you see?” She would wait patiently for his response, if there was to be any, before holding up four fingers. “How many fingers do you see now?”

Naeya could hear the sound of men and women combing through the debris behind her, their low grunts and mumbles buzzing in her ears. As the clouds above her began to darken, she continued her line of questioning. “What’s your name, brother? Do you remember?”

And then, “What year were you born? What season? What day?”
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[Sunset Quarters] Ode to Broken Things

Postby Quint Caravel on December 1st, 2013, 12:13 am

Quint Caravel wrote:
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Quint let out a soft moan. "Oh, I don't feel so good, sister. Give me a moment before you start pestering me with questions."

He rubbed at the stubble on his chin, working his jaw to get the kinks out of his neck. "I'm going to tell you a secret, big sister, but you must keep this in the family. If word of this got out I don't know how people might react. All season long I've been having this strange recurring dream where I am some sort of rich merchant or politician throwing a lavish party. So now when I get stunned, even briefly, it's like part of me is elsewhere being watched by over 1,000 people."

Quint realized as he said it how insane it sounded. Perhaps the fall from the building (or the falling building) had simply knocked him loopy for a few moments.

He glanced down to look at his sister's hands. What the?

Quint stared at her hand, and the sight of it made him think he was dreaming. Webbing?

"What is that?" He sat up bolt upright, ignoring everything else and staring at her hand. "Wait. What?" Quint blinked rapidly.

He looked to the left and to the right. "Oh, it was just a dream. Maybe a dream in a dream. This is Sunberth."

Then he glanced at the Konti woman. His entire demeanor changed, going from affable to business-like. Cold steel entered his voice as he got his bearings. "I don't know the exact day but it's the end of Autumn, 513 AV. 78th? And you've got webbed fingers." He counted them as requested; as the grandson of a minter he knew his numbers well.

He reached down to make sure she hadn't stolen his coin purse, then smiled at her when he saw it was still there. Though still serious, he allowed a measure of respect to come into his voice as opposed to brisk neutrality. "Thank you, by the way. You're kinder than most. In Sunberth, a moment of dazed blathering would normally have gotten me stabbed in the back. You were kind and did not take advantage."

"May I know your name?" He thumped his own heart, and for a moment looked at her as if she really was his sister. He spoke wistfully, thinking both of his cruel childhood and now of this one nice moment. His real sister had told him to not let his past blind him to the nicer moments, and so now Quint focused on the Konti woman. "This is the first time anyone has ever helped me. My name is Quint Caravel, born First day of Spring, Green Watchstone, in the Year 485 AV and by the gods I will remember this. Someday, should I be in a position to do so, I will help you out in kind."

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[Sunset Quarters] Ode to Broken Things

Postby Naeya on December 7th, 2013, 10:02 pm

"That is quite the dream," Naeya replied, patting his arm as one might pat the arm of a loony uncle or the village idiot. "But you needn't worry about the reactions of others. We've all had our silly dreams, I'm sure.

"In fact," she continued, "I'll even tell you a secret of my own. I once dreamed of a boy with tables for wings. Isn't that absurd?"

Thankfully, the man seemed to be waking from his stupor and she had no need to elaborate further. It had happened so long ago that she could hardly recall the details and, besides, dreams were funny things. Private. Personal. Nonsensical, even, except perhaps to the dreamer herself.

"Yes, this is Sunberth." The konti nodded and smiled with relief - relief that he was coming to, relief that he recognized his surroundings, and relief that she no longer had to pretend. But her relief did not appear to be shared. The man seemed to recoil from her with every lucid tick that passed, his eyes wary and his expression grave, and Naeya's smile fell from her face at the change.

"I- right. It's the seventy-eighth. And, yes, I do have webbed fingers - a gift from Laviku, I'm told." Her voice was soft and the lilt of her Rivarian accent would have been recognizable to anyone who had visited the mountain city. She linked her fingers together self-consciously, but a quiet pride in her heritage shone through her eyes. Naeya had never desired to be anyone other than who she was, and wore her marks and scales like a badge of honour.

She shifted from up her knees into a crouch, balancing carefully on her toes. "This isn't my city, Quint Caravel, son of the Spring." A hint of disdain crept into her voice. "The world isn't all like Sunberth, and I'm not one to take advantage of a person in need."

The noise behind her heightened, and the konti recalled her search. "My name's Naeya. And I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I hope, goddess willing, that there will never be a time where I should need to call in your favour." As she spoke, Naeya straightened to her full height. "Can you stand?" She hung her cloak over the crook of her left arm and reached her right out to Quint with the intent of helping him to his feet.

"You were lucky not to be killed, Quint. The gods must have blessed you today." She paused to pull her cloak, now soiled from the street, over her shoulders and turned to the rubble and the workers behind her. A shiver ran up her spine and she rubbed her arms for warmth. "I can only pray that no one else was caught in the collapse... Do you remember seeing anyone here before you fell?"
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[Sunset Quarters] Ode to Broken Things

Postby Quint Caravel on December 18th, 2013, 6:23 am

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ooc= Sorry, been busy with real-life hospital-type stuff. See my scrapbook for details.

IC:
Quint felt better once he actually began listening to Naeya. He realized that dreaming about a boy with chairs for hands was in the same league as his own stuff, and that made him feel better and less alone.

He looked at her hands again when she mentioned Laviku. "Well, then I guess that is all right. My sister is a sailor and a devout worshipper of Laviku. She even has a duck Tavan." Quint politely explained what that was, and he gave Naeya directions to Xiva Caravel's Casinor in case she ever wanted to say hello to her. If nothing else, Xiva had a little shrine set up to make offerings to Laviku and would welcome any who respected him.

Quint explained that Xiva was not his sister by birth; she was full Sverfra and he was a bit of a mutt, not belonging to anyone or anywhere. Which was why he was often wary and cautious around strangers.

As to her final question, he shook his head. "I don't remember anything before we met today. I don't mean I have amnesia-- I know who I am and where I am-- I just was a bit loopy there for a few minutes. Must have hit my head when I fell. I think I'm okay, but the shock hasn't totally worn off yet. I'm definitely still not quite myself, and I'm still feeling a bit... not sure how to put it. Moody? Disconnected?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember any part of the day, and it was sadly a complete blank. He just could not recall where he was going or what he was doing.

"Anyway, thank you for stopping to check on me. I can honestly say that you have saved my life, and that's something, there's something to be said for that, whatever else gets done today."

Quint stood up, testing to make sure all his limbs and parts were working properly. Once he was all sorted out, he brushed himself off and looked around. "Wha- what happened to that building?"

Naeya's words about the collapse came back to him. He had a nagging feeling that he was forgetting something important, so he turned to Naeya. "The building collapsed? Why did this happen? Was anyone inside? Is there anything we can do to help?"

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