Completed Best Served Cold

Autumn stumbles on someone she has held a long grudge against (Madeira)

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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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Best Served Cold

Postby Autumn Rose on December 23rd, 2019, 4:02 am

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As Madeira’s face darkened, Autumn knew she had made her point. Perhaps, Emma wasn’t a valuable enough bargaining chip. Perhaps, her trust was something Madeira could operate without. That wasn’t the point though. The point was Madeira now knew what Autumn was capable of. Autumn had proven that she could find ways to manipulate those around Madeira, ways that could turn her allies indifferent to her, at the very least. Autumn didn’t think she could turn any of the woman’s friends against her completely. Her words could only go so far, but they could do enough damage to make the spiritist’s life difficult, if not miserable.

The point had been made, and Autumn pushed that subject no further. She’d let Madeira show her own hand before putting any of the many plans floating in her head into effect. Instead, once she had seen Madeira’s reaction, Autumn piped up again. “We are very lucky, the both of us, to have found Madeira, aren’t we?”

Emma’s head bobbed again. “But it’s not just us. Wait until you meet everyone.”

The little ghost got very excited when she began to talk of the many wondrous people who lived with her and Madeira. She prattled on at such a pace that Autumn couldn’t keep straight who was who, only that they lived at the Manor Emma called home. Raj’s name popped up several more times, but there were others. A man named Allister, twins named Moritz and Amelie, and a black-eyed woman named Lani, but their place in the home and relation to either Madeira or Emma were lost completely in Emma’s excited delivery of the information.

One being Autumn did tuck in the back of her mind was the last one Emma mentioned. Jomi. He was a ghost, if Autumn followed Emma’s happy ramblings closely enough, but something in Emma’s voice changed when she spoke about him. There were equal measures care and caution. He was part of their family but maybe not meant to be fully trusted. If he was a ghost his own people had to be cautious around, Autumn would definitely have to be wary of him, considering she was not a part of this limited circle. Still, she relished the idea of the company of someone who might understand the difficulties she faced. Emma was too young to comprehend these things fully, but that also made her Autumn’s easiest route to Madeira. She’d have to try to form some bond with them both.

Emma was halfway through saying something about the house when her eyes suddenly brightened. “We’re home.”

Bolting forward, Emma left Autumn and Madeira alone together. Cautiously, Autumn turned sideways and stole a quick glance at the house while keeping Madeira in her peripherals. There was a wrought-iron fence and trees and flowers smattering the grounds within. The house itself was elegant in just the way Autumn would expect from someone of Madeira’s heritage. She was a Craven, after all. Hers was the single most influential family in all of Alvadas. Autumn was sure Madeira would work her way to carry that kind of influence here.

Autumn breezed through the iron fence and froze. Something was watching. Not something. The house. She could feel it reaching out to her, as if tendrils rose up from the ground that ran back to house and told it of her presence, of what she was and what she felt like. Autumn had lived a long time, and long life brought a variety of experiences. This had never been one of those, and Autumn didn’t like the feeling.

She glared at the house. “What’s this?”

Madeira had stepped up next to her and spoke, introducing ghost to house, house to ghost. “Autumn, meet the Infinity Manor. It’s going to keep your book nice and safe for a while.”

Perhaps it was that she had spent so long without the contact of others. Perhaps it was that it felt as if the house was looking into her soul. Either way, Autumn didn’t like the house and would have said so if there hadn’t been more pressing concerns. Madeira meant to keep her book. Its safekeeping was not her intention. Keeping a tether on Autumn was.

Autumn stated as much. “The child is gone. We’re two grown women. I think we can be honest with each other. Keeping it safe isn’t the goal. You’re holding it hostage, and I understand that, right now, I can do nothing to stop that. I just want to know where it will be. I want to see where it will be kept. And I want your promise that you’ll look after it.”

If Autumn had real hairs, they would have been standing up on the back of her neck right now. She could feel the thing watching her, and she didn’t want to have to go inside it. But Madeira was set on holding her book of fairytales, and Autumn had to know where it was. Her soul shuddered as they stepped through the door with a heavy Okomo ram knocker. She was too off put by the sensations that came with proximity to the Infinity Manor that she didn’t even crack a smile at the sign outside.

Don’t mind the ghosts
they live here too


If she thought that the hosue disturbed her, the scene awaiting them inside was even worse. Chattering away before the fireplace, Emma stood recounting the happenings of the evening, and there, above the mantel, was Raj in all his fearsome glory. But Raj wasn’t Raj, not the Raj Autumn was expecting. Emma was telling the story of the day, but the thing she was speaking to was nothing more than a taxidermized tiger head mounted above the fireplace. It was snarling, a predator ready for the kill, but it was a thing long dead. The horror of it, that Emma considered him real, talked to him as if he was alive, sickened Autumn, and if she had a stomach, it would have turned.

As it was, she was unable to hide the sense of horror, the vague disgust that this delusion had been left so long. Emma turned and saw the expression plastered all over Autumn’s face. Mistaking it for terror, she turned back and chastised her bondmate. “Raj, stop it. You’re scaring Miss Autumn, and it’s not nice. She’s a friend, and we don’t hurt friends.”

There was a pause as the girl listened to whatever the disembodied tiger head had to say, and Autumn took the opportunity to cast a glare in Madeira’s direction. Giving credit to this child’s delusion was only cementing her reasons for staying behind, but Autumn didn’t let her gaze stay on the mistress of the house long. If anything, she should be happy that Madeira had kept the child around. Emma was her best chance of getting her book back.

Emma nodded to whatever the tiger had said. “I know she’s new, but she’s a good person.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, but as it was with most children, the whisper wasn’t soft enough to hide her words. “You know how a lot of people don’t like Maddy? Well it’s ok, because Miss Autumn already knows how good a person Maddy is. She trusts Maddy, which means we can trust her.”

Another pause and another nod. “She’s a little boring, but you’ll get to like her. So no hurting her, ‘kay? ‘Kay.”

Emma turned back to Autumn, beaming a smile. “Raj says you’re ok. He even says you can pet him if you want. He won’t get you, because you’re our friend.”

Autumn didn’t want to let Madeira out of her sight, but she had to play into the child’s delusion for now, no matter how much the thought sickened her. Trying to break it would do Autumn no favors. She needed the child to trust her, so she drifted up to the tiger head and harnessed her mists into a single projection in the flat of her palm. She meant to use it to press the fur flat as she stroked the tiger’s head, but the outcome was different than what she intended. Responding to the chaotic energy of Autumn’s mist and the way that played through the air, Raj’s fur bristled at her touch.

Pulling her hand back into toward herself quickly, Autumn laughed, forcing a timid smile to her materialized features. “Oh. He didn’t like that. I don’t think he trusts me just yet, Emma. Maybe we should give him some time to get to know me. Why don’t you tell me about him? He must be quite remarkable to have got himself a bond mate as amazing as you.”

Emma beamed at this, and her excitement bubbled over. “He really is, Miss Autumn. He’s the reason I wasn’t scared of you at all when you showed up. Raj makes all the scary things go away. Whenever something scares me, he roars, and the scary things become the scaredy-cats. Nothing is scarier than Raj, but I don’t have to be scared of him. Uh-uh.”

She shook her head and brushed her fingers through the tiger’s fur, and Autumn realized that there were few loves out there truer and more loyal than the love this girl had for her tiger and the love he had had for her. Autumn remembered brushing Maro’s fur the same way, and all at once, her heart broke for the child. If this was Emma’s delusion, then Autumn would let her have it. Love wasn’t something she would take away from the girl.

“You don’t have to be afraid, because Raj loves you, and he’s gonna protect you from all the bad things in the world.” Autumn beamed a smile at Emma when the girl turned to her. “Maybe one day, he’ll roar for me, and the things I’m afraid of will go away too.”

Emma smiled, then turned back to Raj, stroking his head again.

Autumn twisted to see if Madeira was still in the room with them.
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Best Served Cold

Postby Madeira Craven on January 3rd, 2020, 12:04 am

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    I don't like where this is going. Madeira confessed from her perch on the armrest of one of the chairs that ringed the fireplace, watching as Emma introduced Autumn to Raj.

    Then put a stop to it, the house whispered back. In the very edges of her vision she could see a minute undulation in the very walls of the manor. The whole structure was moving, breathing like some great organ just on the edge of perception.

    It's not that simple. She opened Autumn's book in her lap, the tip of her glove skimming over the precise, carefully inked words. This ghost means to do me harm for taking this, I know. And worse, she's clever. She picked up on my reliance on Emma and her fragility right away. But Autumn is not as strong as Jomi, I could keep her out if I had a mind to. And I could sever her contact with Emma with some simple precautions. But that would defeat the purpose.

    You're inviting trouble into my walls. It was not a question.

    Can you not handle it? Madeira teased, stroking the back of the chair like an affectionate dog. We need her close, is my point. This scheming has to be curbed, I agree, but if we don't open ourselves up to this she'll never be saved.

    The house was still grumbling, a creeping hostility rising from the very floor like a fog. Madeira massaged her temple against the pressure it was filling her head with. After Jomi's disastrous betrayal it had been acting prickly and guarded. It did not like the idea of letting this clearly malcontent ghost having the run of the place at all, and it was making its opinion known.

    Madeira's stroking of the chair back became more deliberate and slow, and she turned her attention inward. Dijed was siphoned from her soul and collected electric under the palm of her hand, and she slowly began feeding it into the manor.

    "Everything's going to be okay", she whispered to the emptiness around her. "I'll take care of it."

    Under her gentle coaxing the Architectrix reluctantly backed off, though the walls were still suspiciously watchful.

    It seemed the introduction was going well. Emma was prattling away, and Autumn was being gentle and attentive. After that initial glare from the clearly disgusted ghost, Autumn had turned her attention away from Madeira to play along with Emma. As the Spiritist watched she mused on just how strange it was, the way ghosts interacted with each other.

    When Autumn caught her eye again, her third loaded glance to count, Madeira smiled encouragingly. "Emma, kitten", she addressed the girl without looking away from Autumn. "Go play with Spooks. Miss Autumn and I need to have a grownup chat."

    Emma's lip stuck out in a dangerous pout that cracked the sores around her mouth, but she did as she was told. First drifting upwards to kiss the stuffed head on his whiskered nose, and then waving shyly to Autumn.

    "Bye! It was nice to meet you. You can play with Raj if you'd like."

    The girl blinked away, moving first back through the kitchen and then through the solid wall to the grounds. Far away in the back of Madeira's mind she could feel the house urging her along, silently steering the ghost towards the cat to keep her occupied. Madeira rose to her feet, brushing off her skirt as she approached the fireplace and the stuffed head above it.

    "Poor Raj. Emma died first, you know. I don't think he lasted long after that." She smiled sadly for the creature, smoothing her hands over its fuzzy ears. "Oh, but he had some terrible secrets: kidnapping, slave trading... we have some theories, but we don't know for sure. They were terrible enough to get Emma slowly poisoned and himself skinned, at any rate. But its easy to forget that when Emma talks about him. There's something so purifying about her love, it washes everything clean."

    She brushed the fur out of his glassy eyes and turned her back, tapping her way around the hexagonal the room to a low cabinet set against the common room wall. Being as she was one of only two people in the house that could read, and the fact that she kept her more sensitive books locked away in the basement, the reading materials in the house was sparse. But she slotted Autumn's book of fairytales away between what they did have, in that little shelf under misplaced children's toys and a loose egg-shaped diamond. She wasn't going to lock it away. It didn't need to be.

    When she straightened up again her face was set and serious, her arms folded under her breasts. "You're right. We're grown women. We should be plain with each other." She look the ghost in the eye, marveling at the manifested blue that swam within them. "I am keeping this here as insurance. I want you around so I can check up on you, keep an eye on you. I want nothing more than to bring you back to Dira and the cycle, and until I figure out how I need you close. But while it's here I swear to you, on everything that matters, that I will keep it safe."

    The Manor loomed, its watchful presence pressing down on them. The floorboards groaned and creaked, and Bird ruffled his feathers in his gilded cage. In that moment of quiet Madeira took a moment to really look at Autumn, noting the worn state of the pretty dress she was manifesting, and the clear attention she gave to her eyes. The Spiritist wanted her, and badly. She was tenacious and clever, with a capacity for judgment and reason none of her other ghosts had ever displayed. If she could somehow get her on her side her uses would be tenfold. But that wasn't going to happen. They had too much history, and Autumn was way too cautious. The best she could do would be to make sure all that cleverness wasn't used against her.

    "You're good with kids", Madeira continued after a beat. "Emma seems really taken with you, and she never warms up to strangers that quickly. You'll be fast friends very soon. But we need to get one thing clear."

    She reached out, and instead of passing through the ghost's ethereal shroud her fingers entangled in it, and beneath them the soulmist felt as solid and real as anything in the living world. She grasped a fistful of the shroud that made up Autumn's chest and dragged her close, her posture hardening as she worked to dominate the space they now occupied together. Immediately her entire arm went numb, and her fist began to cramp as she forced her body to interact with the dead, but she held on.

    "I see what you're doing. You want me to see what you're doing", she hissed, the sound a low static that cut cleanly across the room. "I know this game, I've played it before, with much better partners and for much higher stakes. So do not think, not for one petching tick, that you can play it with me. You are not capable of that." Her fist twisted cruelly, and she pulled at her shroud like she intended to tear it apart. The thought of losing Emma, of even having the little girl's loyalty waver, had struck a raw nerve. Perhaps Jomi's betrayal was too fresh for her and the manor. "Be very, very careful, Autumn. My patience with you is not infinite."
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    Best Served Cold

    Postby Autumn Rose on January 24th, 2020, 4:19 am

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    “I hope to see you again, Emma,” Autumn called as the child blinked away.

    In a way, she was sad to see the girl go. Emma was the innocence that Madeira and Autumn so desperately needed but had never been offered. Both were fortunate she was around. Through the lenses of her eyes, the world was a much better place, a much purer place, and though it wasn’t the truth, it wasn’t a lie either. Emma saw the good in things, the way things could be if the right choices were made. But Autumn was also happy to have her gone. A certain veil, a practiced protective deceit, slipped out of Madeira at the ghost child’s absence. Without Emma around, Madeira spoke much more plainly, more honestly.

    There was the honesty of what Madeira knew about Raj’s past, a truth Autumn was certain had never been revealed to the girl. There was the honesty of what Madeira intended to do with her book and why she planned to hold it. There was the honesty that Madeira believed Autumn belonged reincarnated, out of this life, into the next. And then, there came the most brutal honesty, one Autumn had not been expecting and was completely unprepared for.

    “We need to get one thing clear.”

    Faster than Autumn could react, Madeira’s hand flashed forward and caught a fistful of Autumn’s materialized mist at her chest. Autumn had known the spiritist was powerful, but even this was beyond what Autumn had been expecting. She knew she wouldn’t be able to pull away. The fingers digging into her chest sent white hot spasms of agony into the core of her, but Autumn didn’t let that show. This was Madeira’s show of power, and Autumn couldn’t let the woman know that her strength intimidated and wounded her.

    “I see what you’re doing. You want me to see what you’re doing.”

    Madeira was showing how dangerous she could be, proving to Autumn how much power the spiritist held over the spirit. Even if Autumn wanted to, she couldn’t just evaporate into the nothingness, couldn’t just blink away, so she kept a stoic face to mask her fear. Madeira’s tactics were working.

    “I know this game. I’ve played it before, with much better players and for much higher stakes. So don’t think, not for one petching tick, that you can play it with me. You are not capable of that.”

    Twisting the mist gripped in her hand, Madeira showed just how much she was capable of. If she wanted to, she could tear Autumn apart ghostly strand by ghostly strand. Ghosts experienced one sensation- pain- and Autumn felt it now. Still, she refused to let it show. Madeira gave one final warning.

    “Be very, very careful, Autumn. My patience with you is not infinite.”

    Madeira’s patience wasn’t endless, but the number of ways Autumn could respond felt that way. She could cave, show Madeira that the spiritist’s show of power was working, that Autumn knew she should be afraid and that she was. She could cry, still caving to Madeira’s superior might while trying to garner some pity from the woman who held her book hostage. Something told Autumn Madeira had none of that for her. Autumn could swing the opposite direction and rage. She could fight to break free. She could fight to wound. This would end poorly for her though. She knew Madeira was stronger, and even if she managed to wound the spiritist, doing so would only put her book in jeopardy. She could yell and accuse, but that was childish. These many thoughts rushed together at once, and at the last one, an idea came to her, one perhaps crueler than any other she could have taken.

    Harnessing the chaotic mists that longed to leap out in retribution at their assailant, Autumn pulled at them, reining them in and pulling as much of it as deep into the core of herself as possible. No regular person would think anything of it, but a spiritist would know. A spiritist would feel it. With the shrinking of the mists would come a relief. The icy cold of contact would become a cool chill. The spasming of muscles as they fought to exist with two souls in a single space would relax. It was a gentle gesture. It would be difficult for Madeira to see it as anything else.

    Madeira’s tactics were working, but Autumn was longer-lived. She had already faced her most difficult adversary time and time again. Herself. She was patient, and she had all the time in the world.

    Siphoning some of her mist down into her finger tips, Autumn projected it outward, brushing an errant strand of hair off Madeira’s face. Everything about the action was motherly, even the concern in Autumn’s face. Her voice was soft, forgiving in the way only a parent’s could be as they corrected a wayward son or daughter. It wasn’t the action that carried the cruelty. It was that Autumn had looked into Madeira’s eyes and felt certain the young woman had never experienced such care from any mother figure in her life. Perhaps she had never had one. In the worst part of her soul, Autumn hoped not. It would make this all that much more uncomfortable for the spiritist.

    “Oh, child. You’re showing your age. You flex these muscles. You show this power. And I think I know why. It’s because you are afraid, afraid of what I’m capable of. Because the truth is, deep down, you know you’ve never met a player like me.”

    Autumn shook her head and channeled more of her mist down into her other hand, then wrapped it around the hand Madeira had in her chest. Rather than try to extract herself though, Autumn applied a gentle push, just enough pressure, to imitate a reassuring hand placed on the living woman’s hand to keep it there.

    “Have you met stronger players?” She shrugged. “Sure, but only because until now I have had no need to be strong. Your patience with with me might not be infinite, but I am, if I so choose to be. I have all the time I want.

    “But you made me a promise. Keep my book safe. Give me access to it when I please, and you’ll have no trouble from me.”

    Her projection squeezed Madeira’s hand lightly. “Besides, we’re grown women. I’m sure we can set aside our petty squabble for more important things.” It wasn’t petty, not to Autumn. Madeira had stolen from her, stolen something precious, but that wasn’t the point. Right now, Madeira was in her element. Autumn was at every disadvantage and had to be diplomatic. “The child is more important than whatever grudge I hold. I overstepped when it came to her. She’s fragile, and I’ll tread carefully around her. But Madeira, the more we encourage her talking to Raj, the stronger her will to stay becomes. I have no good answers for you, just questions, one in particular. What happens when she realizes he is truly gone? She’ll become the kind of broken no one can fix, certainly not you or I. Emma’s love might be purifying, but there are some things that can’t be cleaned. I am one of them. I have been broken for far too long, and there are things I’ve done that I’m sure would make you reconsider your aversion to dusting. But I’m also sure you understand exactly what I mean, that we are not so different, that you yourself are irredeemable in some things.”

    Autumn cringed inwardly at that. Her intent had been to steer the conversation away from the two of them, but she had managed to return them right to the subject. She could only hope Madeira didn’t take the next statement as a threat. “I’ll keep a close eye on her.”
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    Best Served Cold

    Postby Madeira Craven on January 29th, 2020, 9:14 pm

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      your age. You flex these muscles. You show this power. And I think I know why. It’s because you are afraid, afraid of what I’m capable of. Because the truth is, deep down, you know you’ve never met a player like me.”

      Then Autumn reached out with her unmaterialized mist and touched her. But not in the way Madeira was touching her, with the intent to dominate and wound. She brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead, leaving a gentle chill skating across her skin. The gesture was so softly maternal, the kind of easy tenderness she wished desperately she could show her own children.

      Deeply unsettled and frustrated by it, Madeira swatted the trailing mist away from her face. "Don't patronize me, spirit."

      Autumn placed a hand gently over the one buried in her chest, putting gentle pressure on the thing that was wounding her. Madeira let go, pulling her hand out from under the touch and releasing the ghost. She had made her point. But more than that she was strongly disturbed by how physically affectionate the ghost was being, and felt a pressing need to distance herself from it. Hurik had a strange compulsion to touch her too, but that had an almost sexual edge she found easy to redirect to what she wanted. This was something different, and she had no idea how to handle it.

      Autumn explained that she was not like anything Madeira had seen before, that she was patient and would wait however long it took. But as long as Madeira kept the book safe, she assured her she would be no trouble. There were more pressing concerns anyway. She spoke of Emma, criticizing her for playing along with her delusion. What would happen when the girl realized Raj was dead?

      Madeira remembered her cold room in the Craven Manor back home, where she realized the extent of Emma's delusion. The little ghost had woken her in the morning with questions about why she didn't sleep. Madeira had to explained again that she was dead, and the dead don't sleep. Emma then rattled off the creatures in the room that did sleep; and in between Spooks and Bird, she named Raj. This had caught Madeira's attention.

      "Emma", she had asked. "When does Raj sleep?"

      "I don't know. Sometimes he'll sleep for days. He just goes quiet and I can't hear him. I want to sleep too. Maybe I'll hear him better in my dreams."

      She was facing the tall bedroom window, watching the girl's reflection rippling in the glass, when she explained as gently as she could, and not for the first time, that Raj was dead too, and that was why she couldn't hear him. Under the illusion of privacy, Madeira had watched the delusion stutter and shiver, and saw behind it the terrible howling emptiness that it was shielding her from. But when Madeira turned around to face her, Emma was smiling again, and demanding breakfast. That was the end of the conversation.

      Somewhere deep down Emma knew Raj was dead, Madeira was sure of it. Autumn didn't know the girl was already broken. When Autumn told her she would 'keep a close eye' on the girl, Madeira's voice rang with finality.

      "Emma is not your responsibility." She was Madeira's.

      Autumn seemed to think her and Madeira were cut from the same cloth, that both had done irredeemable things and couldn't be washed clean. The Spiritist could only scoff at that. She was aware she wasn't what the outside world would consider a good person, but she had come to terms with that a long time ago. What separated her and Autumn was something so small yet so vast: a sense of purpose. She knew exactly what she was doing and why she was here on this earth, and she was sure a ghost couldn't say the same.

      Madeira cracked the knuckles of her cramping right hand, the aftershock of the contact with Autumn's soul still wrecking havoc on her astral body. The house was pressing forward eagerly, its presence manifesting as a pressure on both her and the ghost's minds. It was reluctantly trusting Madeira's decision to let Autumn have access to the Manor, but it did not like it. She was going to have to have a discussion with the house to reinforce her decision, but that had to wait. Madeira retreated to sit on the armrest of the nearest chair. She sighed, the fury from before evaporating, and she was tall and composed when she addressed Autumn again.

      "I'm glad we know the score, at the very least. I meant what I said: will do everything in my power to keep your book safe until you can properly be put to rest. You can come and go as you wish. I'll even use my powers as a Spiritist to grant you favours if you ever need them. I do believe your patience to be frightful thing, but my tolerance for bullshyke is very thin. If you try to undermine me in any way I will find out, and you will not live long enough to regret it." She spread her gloved hands, signifying everything she was laying bare. Who would believe she would ever miss Jomi and Hurik's bullheadedness, and Emma's obliviousness? Autumn was in a category all her own, and Madeira had no idea how she was going to exorcise something so broken and so determinedly eternal.

      But she was beaten. Even after that caustic show of force, Autumn not only shrugged it off but fought back. It had been a long, long time since she had met this kind of slow, manipulative resistance. It had been even longer since she had made concessions. She wasn't going to hold Autumn's leash, she couldn't. She could only set bait and hope the ghost came by to check on it.

      Suddenly she was very tired. She wished, more than anything, that Maro was here to help her. The thought made her cringe. This morning she thought she was above help.

      "Gwen seemed awfully protective of you. Will you go back to her?"
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      Best Served Cold

      Postby Autumn Rose on March 26th, 2020, 1:24 am

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      “Emma is not your responsibility.” There was more to those words than a simple statement. In a way, it was a challenge. Madeira was laying down boundaries. She was exercising the authority that she held over everyone in this house and over any spirits. Dira’s mark meant she was a step above most in that latter aspect.

      It was something that Autumn disagreed with on every level, but she wasn’t about to argue it openly. She would watch the child ghost, keeping an eye on the little one and doing what she could to help the girl keep her sanity. Being dead was taxing. Autumn knew that better than most.

      She was tired now, her spirit and mists worn thin by the brief encounter with Madeira. For her part, Madeira seemed unshaken by the encounter. The spiritist was collected, but Autumn found it difficult to imagine the woman not that way. When Madeira spoke again, she spoke with a sense of finality, as if everything was decided, but the both of them knew it was anything but.

      So many things were uncertain between them. Emma was one. Madeira spoke of the child being her responsibility, but Autumn felt sure that the spiritist knew the older ghost would be watching Emma closely. She was a spiritist, and spiritists’ greatest weapon was their wit. Madeira was no fool. There were the ‘favors’ Madeira spoke of. That was the last thing Autumn wanted, but in the back of her mind, she almost knew that she would have to take the woman up on the offer some day. It was the last thing she wanted. Owing a person was a dangerous thing. Owing a spiritist was even worse. And there was the thing that Madeira had said. Until you can be properly put to rest. The slow, patient anger in Autumn told her that proper had nothing to do with it. Madeira wanted to see her gone. The Eiyon saw her as an anomaly, an abomination, a stain, as it were. Their definitions of proper ways to move on would not be the same.

      Perhaps the only certain thing was the ‘safety’ of Autumn’s book of fairytales. While they weren’t where Autumn wanted them to be, they would be safe. Spiritists were liars, but Autumn felt the truth in Madeira’s promise. Her book would be safe. She just wasn’t sure how safe she felt coming to visit it. She’d have to put that to the test sometime.

      Madeira’s next question caught Autumn off guard. Of course, she intended to return to Gweneveh’s room, though she’d have to lay low for a while. However, she wasn’t about to admit that. She hoped her silence was taken as uncertainty as to where to go from here.

      “No. I think we managed to wear out any welcome I had there tonight. I don’t know where I’ll go, though the one thing I had to protect no longer needs a safe place.”

      Autumn needed to leave. Her mists had dissipated under Madeira’s force, and she didn’t want the spiritist to see how much damage she had done. Even keeping up her usual materialization was taxing, and Autumn knew it would slip if she stayed too much longer. “I hope you’ll forgive me, Madeira, but I have a long search ahead of me. I need a new place to haunt.”

      She began to fade out of existence, wanting to be out of Madeira’s reach and out of the oppressive walls of House. She didn’t like it and got the distinct sense the feeling was mutual. It exerted a force beyond natural ones against her, in the same instant trying to pen her in and force her out. Before she disappeared completely, she shot Madeira a kind smile.

      “Let Emma know I’ll come see her again. I’ll be around.”

      Unless Madeira stopped her, Autumn would fade into the nothingness between nothing and make her way back to the Lantern, spending weeks on end stifling her emotions so no one would know of her return.
      User avatar
      Autumn Rose
      Even weightless, I'm a burden.
       
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      Joined roleplay: July 20th, 2019, 12:12 am
      Race: Ghost
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      Mizahar Grader (1)

      Best Served Cold

      Postby Madeira Craven on April 16th, 2020, 3:20 am

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      Autumn Rose

      Skills
      • Materialization: 5xp
      • Soulmist Projection: 2xp

      Lores
      • Ghosts: cold spots
      • Lore of the close relationship of Gwen and Bee
      • Seduction: a thousands meanings in a touch
      • Madeira: can Lie to the living?
      • Spiritists: thrive of deceit
      • Madeira: the reason for Maro's secret
      • Lore of the weight of grief
      • Investigation: pat down
      • Lore of mistrust for the living
      • Madeira: untrustworthy liar
      • Lore of the value of patience
      • Gweneth: knew Autumn was there
      • Emma Chamelle: Madeira's ghost
      • Emma: nicknamed Kitten
      • Raj: Emma's beheaded bondmate
      • Location: Infinity Manor
      • Infinity Manor: is alive



      Notes
      Thanks for the thread! This was so much fun. <3<3<3


      Madeira Craven

      Skills
      • Seduction: 1xp
      • Acting: 3xp
      • Subterfuge: 1xp
      • Weapon- Crossbow: 1xp
      • Planning: 2xp
      • Architectrix: 1xp
      • Intimidation: 1xp
      • Negotiation: 1xp

      Lores
      • The Red Lantern: haunted
      • Seduction: teasing
      • Acting: a believable story
      • Autumn: an old acquaintance
      • Maro: deceased
      • Autumn: blames herself for Maro's death
      • Subterfuge: misdirection
      • Acting: summoning tears and hitching a voice
      • Autumn: powerful in her own way
      • Autumn: haunted a book
      • Autumn: knows how to manipulate people
      • Architectrix: soothing Infinity
      • Negotiation: conceding resistance


      Notes
      Notes here.
      User avatar
      Madeira Craven
      long may she reign
       
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