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Even Salt Looks Like Sugar [PK POST]


TwistChunky
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“You don’t always have to be strong, but you always have to keep fighting.”

 

 Solenne tightly clutched the letters in her hands as she wandered the quiet streets of Providence. That night, the only sounds being made were by her own dragging footsteps. Bittersweet, she thought. She found herself at the doorstep of Pompourelia Street 8, lifting a shaky hand to stuff the letters between the double doors. She wanted to go in. She wanted to see Anduin, listen to him talk all high and mighty while sharing a cup of coffee with him. She wished to share stories with Alicjo, someone who never failed to bring joy and laughter to her rainy days. She wanted to open the doors, she wanted to see everyone. 

 

Solenne turned and walked back down the street.

 

         Eventually, she found herself right before the entrance to the settlement of Esbec. She hated that place, she didn’t know why she’d come. She hated it from the moment she stepped foot in it, back when Avalor had taken her there in Arcas. Despite the friends she made, the memories that surrounded the place, the way she mercilessly defended Esbec’s name, she despised it with a furious passion. She stayed for one reason, and one reason only. She stayed for Silas, that stupid elf. That naive, hard headed man who somehow made sense of all her broken pieces. 

 

She wondered how he was doing, if she was right about him being happier without her. 

 

           As she walked back to Providence, there were numerous people who came to mind. She thought of Giorno, Florenza’s cousin whom she’d been set up with. She always found him to be a better friend than lover. He was a good man, but she was a broken woman. She recalled the short, always angry woman who had a soft spot for her, good ol’ Shoes. That loud, obnoxious woman who was the reason for plenty of Solenne’s own anger-fuelled hysterics. Gino came to mind as well- the way they were so passive-aggressive with each other, from subtle insults to sharing cigarettes. Solenne was sure Gino hated her, always getting his wife into trouble, always fighting his words with every breath. She kind of hated him, too. 

 

A small smile escaped her lips. 

 

        Solenne finally stopped at Florenza’s grave. Florenza Falcone, the woman who made her life a little more worthwhile. She sat down there, leaned against the headstone as she pulled her flask from her bag. The smell of whiskey hit her nose as she lifted it to her lips, draining the contents. Those days, it was a rare sight to see the red-haired woman sober. It made it easier to forget how much she missed her friend. She remembered the funeral, she remembered the words of Florenza’s mini-me, how the child recalled her cries for help when Florenza sat there on the floor as she bled out. Solenne cried that night of the funeral, harder than she’d ever cried before. Florenza had made a promise- that the two of them would go out together. She’d silently cursed Florenza for leaving the god-forsaken earth without her, so many of their plans still left untouched. She’d sigh, closing her eyes as the flask fell from her hand, dropping into the dirt beneath her. Solenne was ready to be reunited with her best friend.

 

She was done fighting. 


[OOC: It was an absolute pleasure to play Solenne, and thanks to all of those who interacted with her. Sorry to all those whose hearts I broke while playing her ;) Anyways, I hope she was someone that you all enjoyed RP with and someone who will be remembered, I just fell into a sort of character block with her and decided it was best to leave things as they were.] 

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Somehow, someway, the mentioned Florenza Falcone had procured herself a spot in the Seven Skies, which she did in fact believe in. She walked around in the beautiful gardens of the skies, musing of how her relatives had named their children after her, and how they had some of her good genes. Therein, she sat herself down on a mock version of the Illatian countryside, sipping on a glass of wine as her dear friend came into view.

 

"Oh Solenne, I'a had high hopes for you," muttered out the Illatian, offering out a glass for the red-haired woman. "I certainly do miss Gino, and my little shallots of course. I love them to well- er, death." she'd lament out, before offering Solenne a wide, comforting smile. "But for now, amica- we drink wine and'a chat. Together forever."

 

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1015559628_TarathielSignature.png.ea944738adc543854434588f047307fc.png would receive the news while wiping down the bar, a shocked gasp escaping her lips as tears streaked down her cheeks, ruining what little makeup she had applied. In her bed that night, clutching the statuette of a majestic silver stag, she would lament the loss of yet another friend.

 

"Life is fleeting... human life even moreso. Please, llir... I hope you're in a better place now."

 

In her prayers that night, Solenne's name would be uttered many times; endless pleas to return that which had been lost, falling on deaf ears. 

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AMBIENCE

Spoiler

 

 

 

After months of an absence, Alicjo Verrana returned himself to the guild hall, the one tucked away in the furthest depths and darkest alleys of the Orenian capital. Alone now, shutting the heavy wooden doors behind him, stoking a small fire for warmth against the winter chills, the man prepared himself for the mound of papers that found themselves piling. Only now, he'd add one more to the mass -- an envelope that awaited him, calligraphed with his name.

 

A woman's handwriting. 

 

The man took the dagger from the sheathe on his belt, surgically cutting against the envelope before pinching the note with two fingers, eventually conceding to shake the letter loose. Out fell a sheet, folded and scrawled in the same woman's handwriting.

 

And so the man read..

 

THE LETTER

Spoiler

Dear Alicjo,

 

There was always something about the way that you carried yourself that struck me. I remember the first time we met very well. It was just outside of the tavern in Helena. You were on the balcony, smoking a cigar, while I was in the street below, talking politics with some men I’d just met. I could smell the cigar smoke, and it captured my curiosity- so I looked up, and there you were. I called out to you and asked you what kind of cigar it was, I wish I could remember the name of it, but I can’t. I’m sorry. A few days passed, and we met once again, just outside of Helena. The sky rumbled, like it was opening up. I remember joking about how it sounded like the beginning of the end, and you only agreed. We parted ways once again, and as you read this- we part again, for a final time. 

 

 

I briefly recall a story that I’d begun to tell you in the new guild hall, one that I never got to finish. It was the story of how I got kicked out of Esbec. I suppose I should provide some context to the story before I tell you anything else. Perhaps you know of an elf named Silas Astasel, if you have any association with Esbec, then surely you’d know the name. Anyways, him and I were lovers of a sort- a confusing, tumultuous, hellish sort of lovers, but I ended up leaving him right before he was going to propose. I’m a bit of a heartbreaker, it seems. Unintentionally of course, but here I am, probably breaking your heart as you read this. Back to the story. For my crimes of being a heartbreaker, I was turned away and I haven’t gone back since. 

 

 

There are plenty of other stories I wish I could tell you, but perhaps it will have to wait until we meet again at the Seven Skies. I really did like your company, Ali. You were a bit hard-headed, among others (myself included) in the Brotherhood, but I always found talking with you to be of the utmost enjoyment. I wish there were stories you could’ve shared with me as well, but alas, it will wait until a different time. Perhaps we can meet again in a different life, where both of us will be so fortunate as to live out our longest, best days. 

 

 

Farewell Alicjo,

 

Signed, Solenne Bassot

 

Upon his first skim, the man scrambled to press his reading glasses against the bridge of his nose, expression growing more severe as his brown hues raced to finish each line. Quietly muttering to no one but himself, "No? No.."  His vain line of questioning only brought him to a fleeting chuckle, choosing to laugh now in the face of the adversity - the consistent reminders of his mortality that became more and more frequent in his old age.  

 

Taking a soft, meditative inhale, the man gave the letter a shake, opting now to read over its entirety- and a smile stayed plastered against his expression. "You and I both, Solenne. Though, I never thought I'd give you a chance to break mine."  He managed a faint chuckle, bringing his lensed eyes up from the sheet toward the fire that roared in front of him, as if he expected her to be there behind the letter she wrote him. But you know she wasn't.

 

And not too soon after, the silence of the guild hall grew evermore unsettling, save for the sound of the splintering wood that roasted hearthside. And the longing smile he held across his countenance faded shortly. Loosing his pinch against the farewell note now, the paper sunk to rest atop the others, the glasses over his eyes falling the same fate. A hand of his pressed to clamp his shaved scalp, thumb resting deep against his temple as he sought to weld his water-logging eyes shut now.

 

Stoic in expression. Catatonic in motion.

 

And so, the man just sat.

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Kallian takes in a deep breath as he reads over the paper before letting it out with a sigh "... oh llir... if only i treasured our friendship more..." Kallian softly spoke out to himself as tears started to roll down his cheeks "... You were there for me when I needed it... please forgive me for not being there for you..." the elf whispers to himself as he clenches his hands shut into fists, bringing his sleeve up to whipe away his tears to then straighten out his jacket. Walking off to the tavern to drink in her honor. 

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Spoiler

Ambient

 

"Momma, Poppa!" The excited young mali exclaims as she bolted into the hall, waving a letter about in the air. "Ah gotta letter! Look- look!" Mayilun urges, practically shoving the letter in Anduin Dering and Annabelle Kelmenour's faces before she ran up the flight of stairs, went up the lift, and stormed into her room. 
@audyush @Covey


Throwing herself in her seat at her desk, May slams the letter on the desk. With the help of her trusty spoon, she opens the envelope with ease.

The letter would read:

Spoiler

"Dearest May'ilun, I was always very fond of your name. It reminds me of the name of a beautiful princess, which you are not far from. Make sure your father treats you well and spoils you, as every lovely young lady deserves at least that from their father. Your name.. I had a nickname quite like it, given to me by an elf. Let your name be a reminder that you are indeed someone loved. You probably do not remember me well, but I hope that you will at least remember how fond I was of your adorable personality, and your wonderful name. -Solenne Bassot."

 

As the elfess read the letter, her eyes began to water. The Dering's smile would grow three times it's size as she looked down to the gently held parchment in her hands. "Miss Solenne..." Whispers the child to herself. "When ah see 'er... ah'm goin' to give her the biggest hug!" Mayilun exclaims before carefully tucking the letter back into the envelope and placing it on her wall.


((OOC: tysm for playing such a lovable persona twisty <3 I wish I spent more time with Solenne.))

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It was one of many sleepless nights the Orenian court minstrel was suffering through - heavy bags prominently shown underneath those dazzling blue eyes of hers. Endless papers, overwhelming and overflowing her study, stacked in semi-neat piles upon her desktop.

Voices rung out in that bard's head;
"Make a song about my canons - make a song about the ISA - make a song about my greatness - make a song about a nobleman's daughter who looks exactly the same as all of the other girls in the palace, but make sure it's unique!"
These were the petty demands she dealt with - day in, day out.

A quiet rapping at the pane of Huberta's window tore her from her mindless scribbling - a welcomed distraction. Raising herself from her previously slouched position, she'd open the window and permit the crow entry to her rooms - lazily taking that letter it had in its clasp. It opened easily, her thumb flicking it open in one swift movement - only for her to freeze upon reading the first word.


"Darling,"

It didn't take long for her to realize the person who had written this letter was her dear friend - and former, brief lover - Solenne Bassot.
Solenne... that name had been a slight bit of torture to the minstrel - countless bottles of wine downed in her honor upon her sudden rejection and the broken friendship that followed. She didn't take it personally, however... if anything - she was overjoyed that her companion's silence had been finally broken. Even though it'd been years since their last encounter, Huberta still felt a certain fondness for that barmaid - platonic, romantic... she wasn't sure. Her heart gave a subtle pang with the sudden flow of memories - which were quickly cast away. Not wasting any time with her own overthinking, the brunette continued on...

 

Spoiler

"Darling... I do hope that you never stop playing that god damned lute. You make people smile, and I always envied that. Perhaps in another life, we will meet again. Perhaps in that life, I will be the foolish bard who fell for the broken woman. Perhaps- we may even be friends. I will be dead when you get this, so don't bother responding. Farewell, Huberta DaVeney. -Solenne Bassot."


A confused expression pulled at Huberta's features - why was she speaking in such a way? Writing of what could've been - her next life...? As her eyes fell onto the last statement, realization hit that woman; not akin to a horse-drawn carriage, but rather... a slow-acting poison, clawing and thrashing its way into her system before the effects crumpled her body over. A tear drifted down her cheek - and soon, another, and another, and another... until all she became was a sobbing mess, clutching that letter to her chest in a desperate manner. Stifled sobs escaped her - consisting of unheard pleas for that strawberry-blonde strumpet to return to her, and a few curses sent out in Solenne's name for committing something so selfish.

 

It was yet another sleepless night for that Orenian court minstrel.

Edited by oliviaaaahr
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Silas comes home to a crow bearing a letter. But this crow...wasn't just any normal avian.

It was a memory. It was regret. It was the bittersweet sorrow that cooed in the back of his mind all these years.

Upon the sight of the bird, Silas slowly slips his helmet from his head, a fresh-bladed dent in the side of it, tossing it aside.

He kneels down, extending one hand slowly to the creature as if it were some mythical beast from a realm not his own.

"By the gods, Peter....what happened? How are you here?" 
Naturally, the bird would peck at his hand, to which Silas quickly scoops him in close, rubbing his beak like he always seemed to like.
Much to Silas's dismay, the birds croaks were hoarse, and it was greatly aged.

He slowly takes the letter, bringing both it and the bird inside.
As he enters, the crow's lifelong companion, Silas's falcon Annil, would appear in spectacular spectral blue fashion, and the two would dance about in the sky of the living room as Silas takes a seat.

He slowly unveils the letter, sitting before the flame of his living room, casting blue eyes upon the words within.

As he reads, his eyes grow glossy, his mind clouded with endless questions that will never be asked.


He finishes the letter, setting it beside him and pouring a glass of vampiric red wine, gazing into the inferno as they always used to do together.
"Nous ne brûlerons pas.." he whispers, taking a sip of wine as the wave of his oncoming life rushes toward him.

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