𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐑𝐄 : a dependent rp blog , written by 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒚 , for 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗳𝗺 .
❛ and i saw a beast 𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮 ...
who is 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 and
who can 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁 𝗶𝘁 ? ❜
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being addressed startles them. having been entranced by the flames & in a daze since being brought here, ollie slowly blinks when they glance up. "fourteen and a half minutes." an automatic answer. then, after that momentary pause, recognition flickers. "oh, haliya. are you ... looking for someone?" that seems to be the common theme tonight. that cat has been not a cat for a very long time. they try to return the smile. "you seem to be in a good mood, unlike everybody else here."
her eyes narrow until her gaze is half concealed by thick languidly fluttering lashes. she’s always been content to let ollie be, to let a mystery remain a mystery. but tonight is different. the vines of suspicion climb rapidly up the walls of her attention. she begins to wonder if, between the two of them, she is not the only one gifted with a prophecy. the question lingers on the tip of her tongue before she decides to swallow it back. “ ollie, are you… ” her laugh rings with puerile mirth. “ are you asking me if i’m looking for my new year’s kiss ? ” she jokes. haliya smiles with affected gaiety, bright against the sullenness threatening to weigh them all down as it reaches to kiss the earth. “ don’t you believe in superstitions, ollie? ” she ponders the question. maybe it takes never knowing what it is like for fate to be on your side to look at adversity with an unwavering eye. “ they say however you welcome the new year sets the tone for the rest of it. ” she lifts her shoulders in a shrug. “ i suppose i don’t want my year to be shit. ” she tilts her head and looks at them through the corners of her eyes. “ you look like you need a drink. should we go find some? ”
"that's rude," dante says, almost on reflex. for a moment he feels normal again—another new year and another day of running into haliya. they'd see the fireworks soon. but then he exhales, and the reminder of all the horrors he bore witness to tonight comes crashing down again. fireworks, dante thinks. a desperate attempt to grasp normalcy again. the new year. haliya. he shoulders on. "and i'm not carrying a watch with me, anyway. but surely we'll know soon when the countdown begins. have you never seen the way we welcome the new year?"
“ pardon me, sir. i must have lost my mind. ” her smile grows big and teasing. “ what’s gotten you sour? ” she’s never witnessed him be ornery save for when elias was near. and she doesn’t see him around. “ no, i never have. ” every year, since coming to cynefin, she’s gone home and celebrated the year's end with her grandmother. a big soirée is thrown annually with a hundred or so people who consider it an honour to be invited. this time, however, she didn’t have much of a choice. “ i suppose that’s why i’m impatient to see the fireworks. i simply cannot wait. ” there is some truth in her words, lending it a genuine ring. “ well then, will you show a tourist around? ”
despite the anticipation thrumming in his veins for the festivities that is about to come, sion finds himself rather restless, gaze unconsciously searching for his family amongst the crowd as he prepares the fireworks. worry a persistent thing coiling in his chest, unwarranted when the atmosphere is the lightest it has been. so the sudden call proved to be a welcome distraction.
“i would not know, miss bulawan.” he had been quite preoccupied with the preparations, after all. he does know that there would be a signal five minutes before the new year comes for him to start igniting the fuses. still, he lets a small smile curl upon his lips. “excited for the year to turn, are we?”
“ professor lee. ” sheepishness colours her cheeks a faint pink. she smiles and tips her head as a sign of respect. internally, she cursed herself for not recognising him. “ i apologise for my crudeness. ” it’s a rookie mistake to let the headiness of anticipation rule over her. she needs to reel her head back to the ground before the mask she wears slips completely. “ i am. it’s my first time celebrating the new year in cynefin. though i wasn’t given much of a choice, ” she says with soft laughter, “ i suppose i’m a little bit excited. are you here with your family? ”
there's a glint of both fear and fascination in her eyes, as they roam the town square, waiting to see the demon keep its word. the memory of the encounter in the library, still in fresh vivid colours, causes a delicate smile to play upon her lips — my brothers are coming for cynefin, the demon promised. haliya wonders how. she wonders what will happen next. " you there ! " she calls, forgetting herself, as she approaches. " how long until midnight? "
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status: closed to darika, @succurrere. what came from the sea event thread.
he sits tonight, for the most part, in quiet contemplation, attending to his duties as if they are as important as the work he does back at the farm. occasionally, there are locked eyes, quick nods of hello, maybe even a small conversation exchanging pleasantries. but in all those faces passing by, they are not the one kova wishes to see tonight. how lucky for him, though, that at some point in the midst of tending to the fire, he looks up and there she is. his shoulders slump forward in what can only be described as... relief? he gives a mental shake of his head and gestures to darika. "you're here. finally," he adds dryly, with humor etched somewhere in the word if you looked hard enough - or knew him well enough to understand.
she manoeuvres through the crowd at a hurried pace, heading for the root of the billowing smoke, and strides closer to its heat. it is not, however, the fire that drives away the frost in her bones, but rather, it is the sight of kova unharmed. a litany of gratitude, to gods she no longer believes in, runs inside her mind. “ you’re safe. ” she holds his arms with her hands and, at once, the strain of witnessing and escaping a horde of demons spreads throughout her body. she gasps in pain and withdraws her bandaged hand. fresh blood soaked through the cloth. “ something has happened. ” vestiges of the horror she felt remain undisturbed on her face. urgency is unmistakable in her voice despite its even tone. but before she could tell him of what she saw, a belated realisation dawns on her. her eyes widen and darts around them. “ where’s yura ? ”
full name: haliya eugenie bulawan nickname(s): hallie age: twenty-six date of birth: tba. birth place: ——, clwyd-isle current residence: verum academy, cynefin, clwyd-isle gender: cis woman pronouns: she / her sexual orientation: tba. relationship status: unattached education: verum academy, major in anima magic occupation: student
TW: DEATH
TLDR: haliya is pretending to be an old woman's long lost granddaughter so she can inherit the old woman's large fortune. unfortunately for her, the old woman refuses to die until she sees haliya married! before she assumed haliya's identity, she worked as a pickpocket and errand girl for a swindler. now she lives as this eminent, wealthy old woman's refined young granddaughter. she uses her anima magic on humans and for less than honest purposes <3
haliya is the long lost granddaughter of a wealthy woman. she was found — rather, she reappeared six years ago, eighteen years after she was taken.
when she was two years old, haliya was travelling to the coast with her parents when their carriage was ambushed. both of her parents were killed and she disappeared.
haliya’s grandmother spent twenty years looking for her, refusing to give up until her last breath. with her father’s death, haliya is the last remaining direct descendant of the old woman and the inheritor of her large estate.
the story of the lost granddaughter and her grandmother’s tireless search spread in many parts of the country. a significant gift was promised to whoever could find and bring back the child, a prize not a lot of people can ignore.
finally, haliya knocked on the door of the family manor herself, accompanied by her adoptive mother and their kind benefactor. her grandmother was elated. she was immediately convinced, after one glance at her, that haliya was indeed her beloved grandchild.
the story haliya and her adoptive mother told was this : her adoptive mother found her in the fields, wailing and abandoned. she took the child in, despite being unable to afford to feed another mouth. she found work as a maid for their kind benefactor, an occupation which helped the child and her survive. it was this benefactor, too, who loaned them the sum and the carriage necessary for the journey to haliya’s grandmother.
the story was repeated to everyone eager to hear it. the wholesome tale of a grandmother and her grandchild’s miraculous reunion, featuring secondary characters who were described like holy creatures with the purest of hearts.
the unfortunate truth was: half of it is fiction. “haliya,” her “adoptive mother,” and their “kind benefactor” are all in fact con artists.
greta’s mother died when she was nine years old and left her an orphan. she survived by pick-pocketing and doing small errands, until her “adoptive mother,” whose main occupation was selling ineffective elixirs to those who did not know better, took her under her wing and employed greta to be her own errand girl. greta learned several ways of swindling people of their money under her tutelage.
seeing the opportunity, the two conspired with a prolific con artist to dupe the old woman into thinking greta was indeed haliya, the old woman’s lost granddaughter, in order to gain the large estate she would leave to haliya upon her death.
but there was no honour among thieves. greta, now known as haliya, got rid of her co-conspirators, eyeing the entire bounty for herself. she thought she deserved it, for all the years she has suffered, all the years she’s spent scraping the earth for something to eat.
she planned to sell the entire property, take the money, and see the world. the con, however, was taking longer to conclude than she initially foresaw. the old woman was smart. haliya should have known it was too good to be true.
instead of travelling to foreign lands, she was forced to live as haliya bulawan, forced to be part of high society, to be a lady becoming of her name. and only when she was convinced haliya was taken care of — by which she meant settled in a marriage with a family of her own — did the old woman promise she would part with haliya. true to her word, the old woman, despite her age and weak constitution, refused to die.
haliya found herself in verum academy after her affinity for khemia was discovered. she did her apprenticeship with a talented anima user, who discovered her secret. they agreed to keep quiet and went so far as to teach her how to hide it more effectively. they convinced her to continue her education in verum, telling her her talent for khemia was beyond anyone else they’ve ever seen. secretly gratified by the gesture, and seeing the advantages of honing her talent, she went to verum academy... only to be trapped there for god knows how long.
a familiar face doing a familiar thing can feel so terribly unfamiliar if the circumstances are right—or wrong, haoyu supposes. this is all wrong. darika's words ring in their ears. maybe this is what is to come, the omen at the mudslide and the reality of all things rotten. rotten, rotten, rotten. it echoes in haoyu's mind until it feels foreign altogether. they exhale, forcing the frown to smooth from their brows as they bend their knees. "the new year is coming," haoyu tries. his own festive spirit has dissipated, but he doesn't tell her that. he holds a hand out, palm facing up. as if to ask darika to place the rotten thing on it. no, nothing is wrong. "there's food everywhere. surely you don't need to forage. not in this winter weather, anyway. don't all things rot with the cold?"
“ yes… ” she affirms. “ i’m afraid it has become a habit of mine... even on the eve of the new year. ” the excuse is relayed with a small polite smile. beneath the placidity of her features, an awareness of her position within the local society — amplified by haoyu’s person — draws reticence. she knows the townspeople’s trust is conditional. she knows what seems to be acceptance is merely tolerance. the people of cynefin remain wary of khemia, a wariness that is exacerbated by the mudslide and the rising sea. and so, darika taught herself, if not to avoid it entirely, not to speak of it too casually. “ there are ones which continue to thrive in the winter. the farmers use these to make gin. ” it is how she knows of the rot, from one of the farmers reporting the incident with vexation. she reaches a bandaged hand towards the rotten berries, before placing one on haoyu’s palm. to a normal eye nothing may seem amiss. yet she, one who can sense what lies beneath, suspects it is not as it should be. as her own mind is occupied with withholding the truth, darika fails to notice their evasiveness. “ you may find some tonight — at the festivities. ”
location: can literally be anywhere, at any time during the night.
status: open, for the what came from the sea event.
a dead man on the last day of the year feels like an omen. loathe as he is to admit it, the slip and fall he witnessed by the mudslide is unsettling—unsettling enough that haoyu doesn’t spot the strangeness they’ve come across until they’re too close. he frowns. “hey, what do you think you’re doing?”
their voice is softened, muted into a faint sound by the time it reaches her attention. her mind is elsewhere. it is concentrated on the wild fruit sitting in the palm of her hand. but their voice does reach her and she eventually lifts her chin to meet their eyes as she remains kneeling on the cold ground. “ foraging, ” was the simplest answer she could give. her eyes return to the object she held, brows twisted together. “ but the entire thing is rotten. ” an atypical type of rot. one she hasn't seen before. she tosses it to the ground where it will continue to decay until its remains become indistinguishable from the soil, and rises to her feet. at last, her attention is squarely on the person before her. she notices a strangeness in his demeanor, too. “ is there something wrong? ”
full name: darika wattanakun nickname(s): dao age: thirty-two date of birth: tba. birth place: ——, clwyd-isle current residence: cynefin, clwyd-isle gender: cis woman pronouns: she / her sexual orientation: tba. relationship status: unattached education: verum academy, major in anima magic occupation: farmer
a brief summary :
she arrived in cynefin when she was six years old and lived with her great aunt, who was then a professor in verum academy. while living with her aunt, in a house on the foot of the hill leading up to the castle, she trained under the tutelage of a sorcerer trained in anima magic. she became known in town after she begun helping out in the local farms. though they were wary of her at first — she was a stranger, a sorcerer-in-training, and reserved — they eventually came to know her, her generosity, her thoughtfulness, and gave her their trust.
she left cynefin for a few years to begin her apprenticeship under a famed sorcerer who has used their anima magic to make developments in the field of agriculture. determined, from a young age, to make the inhospitable land of cynefin bear crops, she was firm in her choice, despite her father’s petitions that she return to their home in the capital to do her apprenticeship with another sorcerer, in a field which her father deemed much, much more lucrative and influential.
she returned to cynefin, to finish her education in verum academy, and has stayed in town ever since. although she wasn’t born in cynefin, she acknowledges no other place as her home. she bought a small piece of farmland to grow crops and rear livestock of her own, mostly for her own research rather than to earn profit. nevertheless, she frequently helps the other farmers whenever they run into problems, or whenever her particular expertise is needed.
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