seen from Russia
seen from India
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Venezuela
seen from Netherlands
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from Pakistan
seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from United States
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đ˘ - Traveling/wandering music.
Red Arrow Highway by Chris Bathgate. Saaferah and Diathys travel together for a living, with the latter serving as the formerâs emotional and moral supportâher North Star, so to speak.
On the Red Arrow HighwayThe season had found meWith you there beside meAnd sleeping so soundly
Oh, how our days entwineOh, how I know your mindOh, how you slow time
Thanks Brie! Music of the Muse prompt here.
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Alone
Why do people choose to be alone? scribbed Saaferah onto an otherwise blank page. My first taste of solitude was sweet. I know it can be sweet. But when we all know the other is suffering, when itâs bitter, why do we keep our loneliness in neat little boxes out of sight? We could heal each other so easily.
She looked up again after writing that. Surrounding her was a slew of people all of different races, all clad in different trappings, and all of them, she did not doubt, with so many different experiences, personalities, and lives she would never know.
Maybe not so easily, she added with a dejected sigh and a feeling of insignificance tiptoeing over her.
Thanks Ralph! One-word drabble prompt here.
Since returning to the Grove Saaferah had worked diligently to build herself a new life. She had started with little: uncertainty, keening remorse, and a wounded sense of hope which flew timidly in the face of the odds. She canât say from where that mote of hope had originated. It was tied in closely with an earnest desire to make something of herselfâto prove to herself she was more than a wayside failure and a victim of her poor decisions. Surely she hadnât been born to be a waif and end up in some anonymous grave somewhere in Lionâs Arch. How sheâd toiledâto keep her job and repay her debt, to learn the things sheâd missed while trapped in the eddy of her past, and to teach herself discipline. Yet nothing had been harder than maintaining that hope, the fuel that kept her going. That was when she turned to Diathys. Everything he had done had made her want to be a better person. Each time her faith had flagged heâd been there to ease and reassure her, and always with simplicity and patience. He had never justified her fear heâd one day grow weary of nursing her damaged mind, nor had he made any demands of her. Heâd simply supported her when she began to crumble. With her own resolve and Diaâs quiet conviction, Saaferah had bettered herself. She had gone from sleeping in nooks and boughs to laying her head amidst soft pillows in a large, lavish home. She no longer owed anyone anything and had forgotten to keep her head down and look over her shoulders in cities. Yet a lingering feeling of emptiness had eventually forced her to admit that somehow it was wrong. Lest he mistake her for being ungrateful she thanked Diathys for all he had given her, but told him that even with the stability that was a home and a job, she was unhappy. To her great surprise his patience in her did not falterâin fact she learned he had been thinking the same thing, and he was one step ahead of her: They would travel the world. They would be bound by routine no longer, and each of them would learn and know wonder standing beside the other. And while Saaferah knew this would be far from easy, she welcomed the challenges and soared at the thought of all they would experience together, good and ill. To be free and able, unknown and unbound, with her best friend, her lover, and her entwinedâto be alone with him in the wild expanses of Tyria, growing and learningâwas exalting. And while she still had other wars to wage and win, it was one screaming victory after one torturous strife.
Saaferah by Coops. Thank you! â¨
𧣠: Is there a fashion style you think your character would be good in, but they'd never wear it IC?
Oh, definitely.
Itâs absolutely, 100% silly, but Iâd love to see Clemma dressed as a detective out of some ridiculous noir film. It would be flattering in an obviously nontraditional way. Sheâs rarely out of her leathers, though.
I wouldnât say Nthanda would never wear a sari, but Iâd call it pretty improbable considering her means and skills.
Though sheâs already (her version of) married, it would fill me with such senseless joy to see Saaferah in a wedding gown looking like some kind of fairy tale princess. Sheâs been as hapless as she is penniless nearly her entire life, so to see her cleaned up and dressed in something elegant would be refreshing.
Scesharâs only real vanity is her long fern hair. Iâd be viscerally interested in seeing her lose it completely, perhaps as a deliberate act of love or grief.
And those are just the ones that jumped out at me!
ďź
Thanks Mercer! Roleplayer Ask Meme here!
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Saaferah slips into her thoughts like a second skin or a suit of armor: focusing on them lets her ignore her life and its present problems. Sheâs more comfortable in them than out. But there is so much Goldane left to her memory that the sobering sense of solitude she picks up while listing through her head canât be helped. Jingling anklets and bare feet, messy fronds, swimming in the sea, and all of it gone, unattainable. If wishes were enough...
The years spent without her donât help, needless to say. Flashes of Lionâs Arch, blurs of Dwaynaâs Mercy, little tines of terror and the larger blades of regretâmemories she wishes she didnât have to relive every time she sought succor in Goldaneâs ghost. She had gotten accustomed to being alone. Unwanted, even. No one understood her like Goldane had.
But in her last gasp she inhaled Diathys, and with each unexpected breath thereafter life began to shyly sprout in the blackened places inside her. His quiet intrigued her, and his voice wove words and thoughts she could understand. He seemed to speak from within her, somehow, and raise up that life she didnât know she could support.
He understood her. More, he saw her. Saaferah hadnât been seen before or after Goldane. Rather, she had been imagined; fashioned. He saw that she was alone and afraid, but capable. He understood that if only given a little guidance she could grow into something better. And he gave her that guidance willingly, without demand. He wanted nothing from her, like everyone else seemed to.
When she goes away into her mind, Diathys gently brings her back to him. She does not know how he does itâhow he knows to take her hand or kiss her shoulder or brush his knuckles against her cheek. She returns to him instantly with wide eyes and a humble sense of wonder, and she remembers she is not alone.
It has been a long time since their first quiet conversation away from the group. They were strangers, but somehow less strange to each other than the rest of them. From there they had gone further than Saaferah thinks anyone predicted. They had sprinted through the streets of the city that used to haunt her for no more reason than the fun of it; they had danced to music heard only in their minds; they had laughed at things intimate to them, foreign to all the rest of Tyria. Most importantly, they had taken a vow of eternity.
Saaferah winds her arms around Diathys, not knowing what she did to deserve him but willing to do anything to keep him. Itâs been a year since they made that promise to each other, and she can see no end in sight; she doesnât feel different from when she met him. She feels better.
89 Phoenix, 1330 by Ventry Bay
Not much of a ledger anymore, is it? Canât be helped. My awakening day passed without a sound. I only had one of them with you, Goldy. One when we were sober, I mean. I got to talking with a nice girl named Bianca not long ago. She came to hand off some mail that got delivered to her. I suppose I canât wonder why some of my post might go missing. Iâve been everywhere these five years and most of the time nowhere official. Point being, she seems to have things figured out. Wasnât that the whole reason I left? I couldnât think straight in the crush of the Grove. I didnât think it was too much to ask for a chance to know myself. What a mess that was. Half a decade later I still have nothing to show for it. Well, not nothing, but I donât feel like Iâve gotten very far. If someone were to ask me who I am I know I couldnât answer. A survivor? That answer would work if this were poetry. As little as I know about myself before everything happened, I donât think much of that person really did make it through. I feel like despair personified. Maybe I should go into acting. I seem to have melodrama perfected. I drone on and on like Iâve got nothing at all and thatâs so far from true. I have a lot. Dia, above all. I donât know where Iâd be without him. No, I do. I just donât want to think about that. Heâs the only person whoâs ever talked me down from a bad decision like that. Sometimes it overwhelms me. It never goes away, not even for a second, and there are times I feel like if I donât get high Iâll lose my mind. That was the only thing that ever made it stop. If he hadnât been there I would either have gone back to Lionâs Arch and relapsed or shot myself. My heart sinks to write that, now. I remember when Gin shot himself, how distraught I was. How long it took me to get past it. I canât believe I might have put that on Diathys. It wouldnât have been maliciousâjust impulsive. I couldnât think about anything else. Iâm sorry, Dia. What a worthless thing to write. Iâm sorry. This is so old, Goldane. Three years old. Iâm tired of being stuck here, but I donât know how to get out of it. Iâve been living with it. Maybe thatâs the answer, bitter as it is. Just to live with it. I guess thatâs all I can do until I find a way to put this behind me. Iâm doing my best, in spite of everything. I hope you both know that. I love you both with all of my faulty little heart.
Weeks had passed since the last time Saaferahâs thoughts had been demanding enough to warrant cracking open her journal. As routine took over, few things seemed important enough to set down on paper anymore. She spent her days earning her living at Rimeâs Garden and shooting her pistol and bow, then passed her nights researching and building traps with a studious stitch in her brow. Perhaps this nightâs only extraordinary feature was her lethargy. Discipline had kept her going through the day, but as the hours had worn on and on sheâd found herself increasingly distracted by thoughts of sleep. There had been a time in her life when she would have simply forgotten everything in favor of finding some sufficiently hidden place to curl up and doze the day into evening, but since joining her life to Diathysâs there had been a fire under her driving her to be a better personâor at least a more useful one. Still, tonight it burned cool, calmed by fatigue. She carried Blitz, the clumsy red panda who had become her constant companion, in the cradle of her arms as she descended the stairs to her garden and padded out onto the grass. All was silent save for the water lapping at the banks until the cub leapt down with a soft thud and bounded up to greet Diathys. Dia turned to smile at Saaferah and, double-taking, commented on her beauty. Her glow blushed timidly into her cheeks and she joined him by the smouldering fire. It was a good night. It did not need to be remarkable. They quietly conversed with Saafiâs head on his shoulder and his own head bent over hers, the topics meandering among the coupleâs usual fare: the events of the day, potential plans, and whatever thoughts passed at random through their minds. âI always liked you. Respected you, even,â Saaferah expressed. âI felt better when you were around. Safer. I was happy being your friend. I never imagined being anything more until later. If someone had told me when we first met that weâd end up living together and being as close as we are, I would never have believed them.â âDo I make you happy?â âYes, Dia. Like no one else.â âI meanâare you happy with me?â She raised her head to read his face, confused. âWhat do you mean?â âAre you happy being my dearheart?â Dia was beginning to seem nervous. She set his cheek in her palm. âOf course I am. Youâve been so much better to me than I deserve.â His anxiety continued to build. He rocked forward then back, his expression troubled. Saaferah reflected that back at him. Whatever he had to say, she wasnât sure she was prepared to hear it.
36 Phoenix, 1330 Home
I donât remember ever missing you more than I have lately, Goldane. You should be here, and I wish with every twisted fiber that you were. I donât think youâd believe it if you didnât hear it for yourself.
Dia has asked me to become his entwined. I looked at him in stunned silence for a long time after he did, just staring stupidly at his angular face, the dark leaves that fall around it, the pointed ears jutting up from beneath them, and the eyes which pass over me like a rain shower in the desert. I wondered how someone like him could want me at all, much less love me enough to want to give his life to me.
I swear I forgot every word I knew. I wrapped my arms around him as tightly as I could and only nodded.
Goldy, Iâm getting entwined. He loves meâand you know I love him, too.
