Solo Easily Broken

Madeira struggles with herself as she tries to repair her house

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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Easily Broken

Postby Madeira Craven on March 31st, 2019, 12:19 am

    16th of Spring, 519
It was a damp day, in a long line of damp days. Water fell from the sky above Zintila and bubbled up from the ground on Infinity Manor. It snaked in through the cracked windows, dripped between the roof's shattered shingles and collected as a great muddy river in the moat that circled the house proper. It squished up from under your boots when you walked.

But the rain did good things too, Madeira had to admit grudgingly, as she stomped through the mucky ground, circling the manor and surveying the damage. The blood and the worst of the ash had washed away in the rainy weeks. The scorched, acid burned ground was swollen and plump again. A few more weeks of this and you might never know a Desolate One was ever here.

"A good rest and a little tender love and care, that's all you need", she patted the wooden wall, her voice croaky and sore but injected with cheer as she spoke to seemingly no one. "I'll fix you. Of course I will. That's what I'm here for, right?"

Rain was soaking her cloak, dripping off her hood and running into her eyes. Madeira shivered, teeth chattering, and sneezed violently. In her chest she could feel her broken ribs grinding together. The Catholicon had said to guard her health, as her immune system was going to suffer after childbirth and trauma. Perhaps she didn't take them seriously enough.

The house, silent since the attack, stirred itself to press against her mind. She could feel its concern saturating her body, angling
towards her ruined right hand, the burns, and broken bones and the empty space in her womb where her children used to be. It wanted her to rest. A silent force seemed to be steering her gently inside.

"I'm fine", she croaked, squishing her way back to the front door. "Worry about yourself for a change."

The first floor of the tall manor was worse for wear. A great black burn was centered in the middle of the floor, and most of the windows were smashed. An acidic smell lingered about the place, though it was lessened greatly by the spring air wafting in from the missing windows. Most of the soft furnishings had been removed, as most were damaged by claws or stained by smoke to be repaired. What was left was the eclectic art on the walls, a few hard tables, and an enormous stuffed tiger head. In the corner a blue pigeon cooed plaintively.

Peeling her cloak off her shoulders, Madeira hung it from a rack as the heavy wooden door was closed softly behind her. Beneath she had her arm strapped horizontally across her chest and wrapped in sturdy white linen. What weight she had gained in pregnancy was falling away fast, and already her collarbones were showing hard and white over the collar of her green dress. Madeira sniffled hard and sneezed again, rubbing at her red and running nose.

"Where are the tools? We can start by boarding up your windows." She was rolling up her sleeves as she crossed the great room, stepping unconsciously around the burn on the floor. Yet when she reached her the brass handle of her workshop door, it rattled in her hand but would not open. Locked.

A spark of something flashed up Madeira's spine. It felt a lot like rage.

WC: 566
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Last edited by Madeira Craven on April 29th, 2019, 5:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Madeira Craven
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Easily Broken

Postby Madeira Craven on March 31st, 2019, 12:21 am

"Open the door", she commanded, her voice occupying that dangerously low space reserved for only Jomi's most disastrous screw ups. Silence greeted her. The disobedience shot straight to her heart and something inside the Spiritist snapped under the weight.

Her shoulder slammed into the door, sending as shock over her bruised and broken body. Leaning back, she dug in her heels and threw herself forward again. Organs shifted and bones grinded and she bit her cheek to keep from crying out. In her mind the house was fluttering in a panic, its consciousness acidic and bubbling as it wondered if its creator was mad.

"Let me in or I swear to the gods I will break it down!" She roared, tears running down her face as the tender flesh stitched between her legs tore and started to bleed.

Frightened and confused, the house unlocked the door with a click and it swung inward on soundless hinges. She stumbled inside with the inertia of her last blow, into a room untouched by the fighting. It smelt of cedar and bone dust, and the whole room glinted dully with the shine of the many metal blades on the wall. As Madeira righted herself, feeling lightheaded and unsteady on her feet, the houses conscious shrank away from her mind. It hovered back and away from her, like she was a bomb that could go off at any moment. She could feel it still, and the emotions of worry and fear that rolled off her poor manor. Guilt and regret seeped into her as the strange, formless rage dissipated.

She pushed her wet hair back from her forehead, her stomach tying itself into knots.

"No. No, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. I'm just-" she waved her good hand about in a wide arc, like the words she needed were something she could bat out of the air. "I want to help. So just... let me, okay? Let me help you. I'm not an invalid and I'm tired of rest. Back off and let me do this."

There was something acidic in her voice, the house noted, its consciousness touching Madeira's again. As she found the boards and tarnished hammer she needed, and was debating which of the surprisingly many types of nails she might need, she heard a rattle and a metallic bang behind her. Turning, she saw a bucket full of sawdust had been knocked off the long workbench. Mysterious noises and moving objects was not a novelty in a house as haunted as hers, but the writing was. In the avalanche of spilled sawdust were written clumsy, child like letters:

What is wrong?

"Nothing. Leave it alone", she spoke aloud. Picking a box of nails at random she brushed the sawdust away with her foot and left the workshop with her supplies. Closing the door with the heel of her foot, she heard the flue in the great room rattle and give a great fwoom of air. Stepping past the iron staircase she saw a fine layer of fireplace ash across the floor. Written in the same childish writing were the words:

Are you mad at me?

"No, of course not. And stop it, you'll wake the babies."

Actually, all the Moritz and Amelia seemed to do was sleep. In the small intervals they were awake they would cry and feed and be changed, and then sleep again. This went on every few bells. The rhythm was exhausting. She couldn't divide the time with Allister yet, as they were breast feeding. But not for long. Even only a week in they were easily double the size they were at birth. They were Kelvics, both of them. They would likely be grown in less than a year.

Her heart creaked and bent, but didn't break. Madeira closed her eyes, stuffing down that formless rage that wanted to scream at her poor house, tell it to leave her alone, to go away. She would not show it such fury, she told herself. She would not let her Architectrix learn cruelty from her.

WC: 683
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Madeira Craven
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Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
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Easily Broken

Postby Madeira Craven on April 1st, 2019, 1:08 am

She was lucky the porch wrapped around her house had a roof. The rain was trickling in but wasn't the flood it could have been. The broken kitchen window was the most troublesome. She laid her boards and tools across the counter and clambered up to kneel next to the sink in order to reach. Then she stared at the broken pane, and the fine line of moisture that was running through the jagged hole. Now what?

She could feel the house watching as she used the hammer to push out the rest of the broken glass. Then taking one of the boards, she wrestled with it one handed to line it up against the sill. She would have to stack them she supposed. One over the other. Holding the board with her elbow, she carefully placed the nail between thumb and forefinger of her damaged hand and picked up the hammer with her good hand

In her mind the house bubbled its warning.

"Can it."

Taking small, cautious taps, she slowly drove the nail into the wood. How did carpenters make this look so easy? It took a dozen taps to get it through the board, at which point it hit the sill and bent at an odd angle, ruining it.

Never mind. It's a learning curve, she told herself, stuffing down the rage that boiled just below the surface.

But the next one didn't work, or the one after that. They went in crooked or bent when they reached the different wood density of the sil. But it was no problem. If she hit it harder and held it straighter, she could fix both problems.

Her bandaged hand felt thick and clumsy, and her boney knees were starting to hurt, bunched up like they were. Her hands were meant to hold a quill, not a hammer. She sniffled hard and coughed, wracking her tender ribs until she was left grunting in pain. Damnit all, this will take all night is she didn't get this right.

She placed her palm against the counter, giving her body a rest. But even as she did her soul was moving. Pulling dijed from her well she guided it along her arm to coalesce in her palm. With effort she bridged the gap between her body and the Architectrix, feeding it from her body much like she fed her children and her ghosts. This, at least, she was capable of. Whether it was dijed or soulmist or milk, she could at least ensure her people didn't go hungry.

But even as she fed into the Architectrix was moving away, pushing back. Though it couldn't stop the flow it was twisting itself to make it clear it did not want her dijed.

The pressure in her palm stuttered and died as she let the energy dissipate. Somehow the reaction hurt, and she could feel her heart bend and bend and bend.

"What do you mean? Why not?"

Again the house touched upon her mind, dragging her attention to her broken body. It wanted her to recuperate, refresh herself. It didn't need her energy yet, it was fine without her.

Without another word she placed another nail between her linen bandaged fingers. She had to hold it straight, she reminded herself. Nice and straight. Be perfect and precise.

She held the hammer further away from herself, practicing her trajectory carefully before swinging with more force behind it. The hammer connected to the head of the nail, driving it straight into the board, and the damaged, clumsy hand beneath.

WC: 600
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Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 1309
Words: 1100445
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
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Medals: 8
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
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Easily Broken

Postby Madeira Craven on April 1st, 2019, 1:09 am

Madeira shrieked in pain, snatching her burned and skinless hand back and dropping the hammer. The board, half attached to the window, slammed back to the counter with a rattle. The spiritist rocked back to avoid it, and toppled from the counter. The air left her in a rush of snot and spittle as she hit the floor. Little black dots exploded behind her eyes and a line of fire roared up her body as she struggled to refill her lungs.

Uncensored panic was fluttering around her as the house silently asked if she was okay. She could feel the house reaching for Emma, calling the ghost over, so that she could run to Gemma, the Konti Catholicon healer, for help.

"LEAVE IT ALONE!" Madeira wheezed, rolling onto her elbow with a pathetic hack of a cough. "Petching leave it alone and let me fix you! I can do it. Please. I don't-" to her horror, thick tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes. She scrubbed her ruined hand across her eyes, and relished the feeling of pain as the rough bandage moved across her mutilated skin. The agony was grounding. "I've got everything under control. I always do. I'll take care of you, and Allister and Jomi and Emma and the twins. I can fix this. I can get us all back on our feet. I just need time. That's all. Please, just give me time."

How useless she was. She was suppose to be their leader, and they didn't need her. She wasn't necessary. She relied so heavily on other people, but now when all her people are broken and burned and missing and dead, and she couldn't put them back together again. She was useless alone. And now, broken like the rest of them, she couldn't escape the fact that they didn't need her like she needed them.

The house's consciousness stirred, stretched. She could feel it searching within itself for something, and she had no choice but to wait for the house to gather its judgment while she broke down inside.

Madeira struggled to stand, crawling up the wall with her good hand, and ignoring the radiating pain crackling under her ribs. She slapped her bandaged hand down on the counter top, and felt the dry snap of brittle scabs and the sticky ooze of new blood beading between her fingers. Once again she summoned her dijed, digging deep and ripping it forward from her soul with brutal force. Her body shivered at the misuse of her souls energy, and in the back of her mind that little voice that sounded like Uncle Frode was warning her about the consequences of over giving. But it was fine. She was responsible with her magic, and powerful with her soul. She could do this. She might not be able to physically repair her soul, but she could patch it with the power in her soul.

She dragged the raw dijed forward into her palm and pushed it into the wood beneath it. The manor still tried to push her away, its exhausted consciousness begging for reason from the woman who seemed to have completely lost it.

"You need this", she wheezed, shaking her head like a dog trying to clear its ears of water. The house was making a racket internally, and she couldn't seem to put up a tall enough barrier between them to tune it out. "Just take it and be grateful! I'm the only one you can do this for you. Do you hear me? I'm the only Architectrix mage in this city! Maybe the entire world! I'm the only one who can fix you, so... so petching let me."

Don't leave me, she inwardly begged. Don't ever leave me. I won't make it alone.

After a moment of hesitation the house gently touched her consciousness. Silently it laid across her like a comforting hand, and like that it held her as she cried.

WC: 662
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Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 1309
Words: 1100445
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Journal
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Medals: 8
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
Mizahar Grader (1) Overlored (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
One Million Words! (1) 2018 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

Easily Broken

Postby Madeira Craven on April 12th, 2019, 11:42 pm

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Madeira Craven

Skills
  • Caretaking: 3xp
  • Architectrix: 4xp
  • Intimidation: 1xp
  • Construction: 2xp
  • Leadership: 1xp

Lores
  • Caretaking: hollow reassurance
  • Intimidation: threats and violence
  • Home repair: boarding a window
  • Caretaking: giving from the body

Awards & Retribution
+Item gained
+Trait recieved
-Injury
-Mizas spent

Notes
Notes here.
User avatar
Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 1309
Words: 1100445
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
Mizahar Grader (1) Overlored (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
One Million Words! (1) 2018 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)


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