SCAWWY 😱 marina

[concoctive]

With black irises, these exotic and unusual blooms symbolize elegance, mystery, and rebellion. The rhizome of the iris is diuretic, emetic, expectorant, and purgative - that is, it eliminates matter from the body. Used most for dropsy (edema), along with treating coughs and hoarseness.

Comments

wknd 0; saturday

[concoctive]

[ churches us. alfyn looks deeply wary as he walks down the aisle made by the pews, eyeballing the goat and muttering a quiet prayer to dohter under his breath as he goes. it's not... a good energy, he feels like. it's a little like stepping into that cavern all over again, in some ways, and all he can think of is poor ophilia for a brief, empathetically heartbreaking moment.

it's when he hears the wood creak again, under steps not his own, that he looks away from the stained glass. ]

This village really can't help but just be spooky everywhere, huh?

[engraven]

[ bechurched.

marina's decided to finally get a better look at the church. it's the least she can do at the moment. she has her regular clothes on again, long dusky pink skirt and a greying white blouse that's seen better days and battle. there's a ribbon around the high collar of her shirt, tied carefully, even if the rest of her clothing looks like maybe it's could use some repair. under her arm, she holds a leather book tightly. ]

It's sure making some kind of impression - certainly not one I'd want to be welcomed open arms into.

[ looking at the weird sabbatic goat for a moment, squinting. ]

... Hm... weird. Found anything interesting, yet?

[concoctive]

[ while the sides of his long, green vest aren't buttoned up - and certainly not the front - it still stays on his figure just fine, draped on his shoulders as he walks through on familiar boots instead of stupid flats. one hand is holding onto his satchel strap absently, while the other is under the vest and behind his back, gripping the handle of a battle axe that's latched into a loop in his belt in the back. like he's ready to yank it out, just in case. ]

Maybe if there was anyone to have open arms... place is just us and rats. [ sighing through his nose after saying that ] Besides the goat..? Hm, I think...

Yeah, looks like there's some runes over here?

wknd 0; sunday

[concoctive]

[ alfyn is squat down at the garden, not doing anything to it but just sort of surveying what's there. he roots his gloved hand a little in the dirt on the edges of it, though, just taking in the quality of it curiously when compared to... all the rest of this place.

despite the familiar way he crouches, practiced and balanced and steady, his shoulders are tense, his back curved like a drawn bow. ready to release.

he's not paying much attention to anyone coming up on him. just in his own head as he does this. ]

[engraven]

[ marina approaches quietly, though as she sees how he's so drawn into his work, she actually gives pause a bit of a ways away and makes sure the sound of her shoes click against stone. ]

Hooooooi, Alfyn.

[ calling before getting nearby. sometimes you know a man carries an axe, and you have only known him a couple days, so. ]

What're you up to?

[concoctive]

Ah -

[ there's a flinch of a jump, and his gloved hand digs a little deeper into the dirt to keep his balance as his other one raises in an aborted movement. therion'd have his head for not paying attention, letting someone come up behind him when he's not there, but he doesn't need to know. so all alfyn does is twist a little, before offering marina a weak smile. ]

Hoi, Marina. [ a careful touch to the dirt he's disturbed, smoothing it out and rolling his shoulders to ease away some of the tension. ]

Just lookin' at what they've set up in the garden. Don't recognize some of it, but the one with the purple mask and curly horns said to talk to anyone that wasn't the red-faced one about the plants.

Just, uh, don't feel like it right now when we just got told that we're planned to be cult sacrifices?

wk 0; friday

[concoctive]

[ alfyn's steps are steady and audible as he walks, approaching the pyre where he'd spent the night before - but he's got a death grip on his axe, instead of snapping it into the loop on the back of his belt for carrying. like he's not sure whether it's actually safe now that the evening has passed, after having seen aventurine lying dead at laudna's feet beneath the stage.

when he sees marina, he heads over to her - and whether she's sitting or standing, he'll do the same next to her, spine made of steel and ramrod straight to draw him to full height.

the affable, dog-like friendliness is gone as he stares into the fire silently for a moment with his jaw working. ]

... found Aventurine. Be nice to maybe think he just fell, 'stead of someone doin' it to him.

[engraven]

[ she just watches him approach and for a second her feet brace against the ground from where she's sat on it, instead of one of the benches. she has her hands clutched around a book, but it shuts most of the way. she's got an uncertainty about her, rigidness in her limbs and her posture.

flight feels like it'd be pretty choice right now. but she stays. ]


... Refectory was in a state. There was broken glass down the wine cellar, and some blood and prints in the refectory itself... Gale found some kind of blue substance as well.

[concoctive]

... he started at the cabin, apparrently. Must've been to the refectory at some point, 'cause we found some blue stuff, too, at the theater. And some of that booze.

[ her stance doesn't surprise him, but it does mean that he respects her space. he'll stay on one end of the seat and allow her the other, staring into the burning blue of the fire. both hands grip the axe, now, but it's so that he can rest his chin on it rather than present a threat.

quietly, nearly under his breath: ] May the Sacred Flame ever light your paths, and shine on you even in death.

wk 0; sunday

[concoctive]

[ seated at the bar of the winery is alfyn! he's got a drink, yes, but it's only maybe had a few drinks taken from it as he sits there with a spread of herbs and a mason jar on the other side from the drink. he's absently grinding herbs with a mortar and pestle until he gets it to the consistency and color that he wants.

he just looks frustrated as he works, and even with his ponytail there's clearly ink that yells losing more people across the back of his neck. but when he hears steps coming down the stairs into the basement, he lifts his head up and looks to see who it is.

seeing marina, he offers a wan, tired smile. ]

... come to take a load off?

[engraven]

[ she returns the smile, setting her book down on the table and taking up the seat beside him, taking a look at the work he currently has spread out before him. in her other hand she's going to hold onto her drink, taking a slow sip of it before answering. ]

... Yeah. Just a little while. What've you got here?

[ she glances a little at what she can see of his neck before lifting herself a bit on tiptoe and applying a light headbutt to his shoulder when his arms are still. ]

[concoctive]

[ oh. the headbutt makes the smile wobble a little, because he's that kind of person that takes gestures of affections from people with cat personalities as gifts, and it's just. been a very long weekend. week. a long few months, really, but this has all been just bad for all of them. ]

Mostly yarrow. It's an astringent and helps with healin' and hurtin' both. Helps stop bleedin', takes the pain away, encourages your body to heal, and is easy to work into a salve. Rest of it is a mix of other stuff Death let me prune off. Easiest thing to make.

... figure we're gonna need it.

W1 FRIDAY

[engraven]

[ lmao lol...

this is. the most miserable friday. she's just heading to wherever alfyn might be, and will have a seat, arms folded over each other as she regards him quietly. hi man, what's up. how's he looking compared to yesterday (besides possibly more miserable). ]

[concoctive]

[ he's in the same position that she takes, though his arms on top of his knees because he's too big to get them comfortably around them. there are angry, bitter tears rolling down his cheeks, and he sniffs, angrily scrubbing them away.

it irritates the cut across his left eye, but it's not bleeding, so there's that. his movements are still very stiff and he's cold, but it seems he's breathing and has a heartbeat! so he's doing ok there. ]

Really still happenin'.

[engraven]

[ she just pulls something from her sleeve and hands it over to him - soft cloth, a handkerchief. it's probably a little damp, but it'll do the trick. ]

Yeah...

[ the scrubbing, don't scrub. it's okay. her hand finds his arm gently and perches there if he lets it, though she understands if he would rather she not (she'll keep it to herself if that's the case.) but. anyways. ]

It is... and we'll have to be prepared to do last week all over again. [ but more so. as she speaks, her eyes wet a little, but she just blinks a bit and sits back further. ] Just... take it easy this time, okay?

W1 SUNDAY

[engraven]

[ she's just down by the stream looking at some rocks, kind of just perched on whatever stone looks the dryest for the moment. she's turning over a very flat one in her hands and just trying to assess its smoothness maybe as she runs her fingertips over it. once it passes muster, she puts it into her lap with a couple of other flat stones. anotha one...

though she might pause if anyone drops by, stones underfoot or the shuffling of clothing. her head whips maybe a bit too quickly but then her shoulders ease. ]

Hey... how're you holding up, hm?

[concoctive]

[ his hand lifts up when she whips around, a greeting as much as it is a reassurance as he makes his way down to join her. his steps are sure and familiar, those that come from growing up near streams and water. there's always softer patches of earth, or roots and rocks to trip over that've been worn away. ]

I mean, honestly? [ rueful ] We could always be better, y'know. But you went through a lot yesterday - how're you doin'?

[engraven]

That's the truth.

[ that's about what she had predicted, but she doesn't say anything, juts gives him a nod. it's true, they could always be better - and it never really seems to get there despite the pleasant things that do happen to have every week.

she hums. ]

... I'm fine. All in a day's work, [ muttering: ] condemning a friend to die. What else is new...

wk 2; monday

[concoctive]

[ hey there's absolutely no preamble to this. the two of them are just minding their own business, perhaps standing in the gas station? he's a ye olde, completely bemused by modern things, and she's kind of. anachronistic. but the lights are so bright...

and the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows. shadows that are more than happy to ensnare someone, maybe two someones, and drag them into a terrible memory. ]

wk 2; saturday

[concoctive]

[ he's sitting outside somewhere with some swampy mud on his boots, absently trying to clean it off with a sort of dissociative state happening. his satchel is open and some things are out, but they're neatly closed and taken care of compared to him with his makeshift rag.

there's still a spark in alfyn's eyes, so he's not completely dead inside. but boy is he coping poorly right now. ]

... Mr. Daan'll be okay. [ when he notices marina. ] I took him to the swamp and saw to him, if you haven't gone to check on him yet.

[engraven]

[ she will find him wherever he is to check on him. at hearing all of that, she does look maybe a smidgen more relieved. the front of her dress is unfortunately slashed, but she seems fine actually. well. not fine mentally. she is extremely pale and tired-looking and her hair is just flared out from its braids from being frazzled all day. ]

... Thanks. For taking care of him...

[ wringing her hands angrily, just white knuckling her palms and fingers. ]

You didn't get caught in the... debacle, did you?

[concoctive]

He was tryin' to protect people. I had to make sure he would come out of it, even if he didn't think before he did it.

[ alfyn gives her a wry smile, not reproaching daan for what he'd done - because he's done the same. he'll always do the same. ]

M'okay, though. Caelus and Vin jumped in and gave me the chance to get him out of there without takin' any damage, myself. [ a deep breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth, and he clenches his fists to keep them from shaking. ] Now, the rest of it..? Ha...

w3; monday

[concoctive]

[ finding marina in the library hardly surprises him, given what he knows of her, so alfyn veers into the section she's seated in the moment he spots her. he's not a quiet kind of guy by any means, so his arrival is its own announcement as he makes his way over.

however, it's alpha week so he's alfa... and this manifests in its own good boy charm kind of way.

he swoops in where she's seated and drops a big, noisy kiss on her head with utmost confidence. ]

Whatcha find?

[engraven]

[ true facts, she lives here. she is basically surrounded by books wherever she is seated, legs propped up on another chair or a low table. she is very cozy-looking with her hair in a teased out braid and just completely deep in her reading.

i'm spitting... alfa... he's here... oh boy...

once he drops a kiss to her head, she tilts her head back to give him a cheeky smile. ]

A treasure trove! I have no idea how I'm bringing back the ones I want to borrow... guess I'll just have to live here.

[concoctive]

[ the most caring alfa!!!

he gives her a grin, tiredness still around his eyes but trying to live in the start of the new week. ]

If you wanna bring a whole hoard of 'em back to the village, before this place is gone come next Monday, I can carry 'em and you can store 'em in the theater. Right now, it's just me and Cam there, so there's plenty of space for stuff - I've been grabbin' things to turn it into a clinic.