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<Reserved>


AHHHHHH!Exciting stuff. Will get a CS up soon.
[This post is brought to you by the lovely Redward and the brilliant Me. It tells of some of the things that happened during the timeskip, eventually ending at when the group decided to Rest.]

Stormy

After taking the mask back from Koda, she nodded twice, muttering only, “I think I understand better now, thank you.”

The mask occupied her attention, whilst she found herself swept up by the motion of the party, her feet carrying her half unconsciously. It held her with empty eyes. Gripping it made the hairs of her arms stand on end and tingle as if she was in the midst of a great thunderstorm. It was quite beautiful, with rolling curves and striking colour. She turned it over in her hands, looking at where her face would nestle, if she was to wear it, but then her eyes widened slightly, and she shook her head, burying the mask deep in a pocket of her massive cardigan.

She looked around at the passing world for the first time. It seemed to be a more vibrant reflection of their own; a falsetto of nature, with odd flowers lining the path, the grass growing untamed and wild not far from them, and trees appeared before long, a clustered canopy of simmering gemstones – verdant emeralds, sunset rubies, and deep autumn amethysts, with slithers of jade and malachite interlaced. Tears gathered at the corners of Stormy’s eyes. The forest bloomed on their right, but wrapped around in front of them, on the horizon, and it seemed, rather fortunately to Stormy, that their path would lead them through the dazzling, alien woods.

The sun shining, Stormy lolled her head back and smiled, stretching her arms in a wide arch above her, unhurried and happy. For all in the world she did not understand, she knew it was a day to behold, a day for small adventures and finding pleasant company. Stormy liked to have picnics on such days, but she did not picnic often; they were rare treasures indeed.

She didn’t talk much with Koda; he seemed rather sweet, but something in the way he spoke about the mask gave her goose bumps.

After only a few minutes of taking in the surrounding, Stormy decided to pull her boots off, walking barefoot in the sun-baked dirt and dust. She fell behind at bit doing this, ending up next to Tabitha. With a boot in each hand, she offered a close-lipped smile, and went back to staring a white wisp of cloud racing across the sky.

A couple more minutes of silence passed. Stormy's gaze having flitted quickly to and from the perverted visage of the Rebel every now and then. Finally, she spoke.

“Tabitha, right? I’m bad with names, y’know, but I think I heard Her call you that. I’m Stormy,” She raised a hand and wiggled a boot from side to side.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm Tabitha."

The path was lined with shade and thick trunks. Tabitha's eyes had roamed relentlessly, though they trained themselves on certain targets for longer than others. Picking over the dark corners where trains of thought had halted or altogether crashed, Tabitha had kept a slow pace. Now she was back in Irriss, shaken from the swarm of fragmented images and unspoken ideas. The woman talking to her was barefoot, and had apparently been there for a moment, a slight smile on her face. Tabitha pulled herself together, silver eyes taking on a sleepy cast and her mouth becoming a more relaxed crescent. She watched Stormy shake her boot in greeting.

"Sorry, I was in another world or somethin'. Stormy, ya said?" She wouldn't bring up that she had popped into the woman's shop, before, with Will. Still, it wasn't something she would simply overlook. The Ghost Girl had a reason for everything, and Tabitha was curious as to the why of the connections that seemed to exist. "She usually says the whole thing. 'Tabitha Calvicante'." Her eyes settled on Koda's back. Seems like he got it pretty bad. She crossed her arms across her stomach, pointing a finger skyward. "Don't much like that."

Calvicante… Will’s sister. Poor girl. She’s been through enough as it is. “Does he scare you?” Stormy nodded her head towards Tristan’s new body and its many eyes. “I see how you look at him.”

It didn't take her long to hit a relatively fresh wound. Tabitha's mind leapt at the question. She didn't bother sorting out what followed next. "I ain't scared, lady. I got over that on the tracks." She lied easily, flicking her finger in Stormy's direction. "And whatchu mean 'how you look at him'?!" She wasn't loud, exactly, but her voice had risen slightly; and to the observant there might have been something akin to surprise in Tabitha's eyes.

Fuck.

“Oh, of course you’re not scared, my mistake,” Stormy didn’t look at Tabitha; instead she swooped down to pluck a flower, carrying both boots in one hand as she stared at what resembled a lily. Its leaves were the stark white of bleached bone, but it was the stamen that had caught Stormy’s eyes; in the shade of the trees she could see that it had been glowing blue ever so faintly. Perhaps the native keystone pollinator here has the same visible spectra as we do and thus – she cut her thoughts short. The flower fell to the floor. It was lost to the dust.

She turned quickly back to Tabitha with an almost feverish grin. “But, you know it is okay to be scared. Heck, it’s probably the sanest thing to be right now. This place,” she gestured with and quick flick of both hands, her boots swinging in her grip, “is gnarly.” An odd chuckle punctuated a short silence.

Probably, yeah, but 'sane' ain't what we came here for.

Tabitha watched the older woman take up a bone-coloured flower. She was more watching her hands. It wasn't long before it fell away. She looked back at it, for a bare moment, but kept her feet moving. How many times I tell myself that I ain't scared? The easy answer was Long enough to know it's a lie, with the more convoluted thought trailing behind it so unnecessary that Tabitha half-laughed aloud. It came out something more of a choked chortle, before she settled back into her usual disinterested visage.

She was still tense, but it was much less pronounced after her small outburst. Stormy's easy way of talking helped, and that Tabitha couldn't imagine her as a scheming or plotting sort. Or a threat. "Yeah, it's somethin'." She glanced at Stormy, "'Gnarly', though? I kinda like that." Tabitha decided to lock that somewhere in her memory. "Probably gonna get more gnarly as we go." Yeah, ok. I like that one a lot. She waved a hand a bit, grasping the air; practising something she couldn't be sure existed. Does around here, though. That was never really a question. It did, however, remind her of something. A something that happened to be a question. I'll ask her in a minute.

“Don’t worry, nobody else will notice. I was just paying close attention,” she winked, tapping the side of her nose, “and I’ve enough years under my belt to spot certain things.”

A long hanging branch dangled tinkling leaves of chipped amber and spun gold. Stormy brushed the outstretched fingers of her free hand against them as they passed under. They chimed sweetly.

“I guess what I’m saying is, not dealing with your feelings is harsh on your spirit and soul. It’ll eat away at you, bit by bit. So don’t do that, yeah?” The sleepy sunset eyes of Stormy smiled with her face.

She listened, instead. Stormy gave her some words, and she considered them. She's gotta point. Maybe a couple'a points. She watched Stormy reach up to some leaves, trailing a few steps behind. "It ain't their business, anyway. Ain't ya's, either, but I guess I'd feel like a real bitch if I ran off a sweet old lady. Especially when ya right. Thanks," she did her best to not let a sliver of sarcasm slide through; she wasn't really feeling it, anyway, "Kinda gives me a bit to think about." Really it brought too much to mind. A thousand problems and sorrows caught behind her lips. Tabitha would swallow them, again, for now.

Sort that out, later.

"How come ya ain't wear ya Mask, Stormy?" Tabitha's eyes drifted to it, then to the woman's face. "Interestin' choice, for real. Seems like everyone else took to it real quick." She lowered her hands to dangle at her side, staring ahead. "And that some of 'em are regrettin' it, real quick."

Stormy’s smile slipped slightly. She shoved the mask deeper into her pocket, hiding it almost entirely. Tabitha watched her, as she hid the Semblance away. Silence followed, but her eyes didn't stray for a long moment. When they did, the harlequin sought the Sun; catching glimpses of its radiance through an almost oppressive canopy. She held her hands aloft, letting it fall on her where it would. Her feet had started to ache, and her head wasn't faring much better. It was warm and familiar, despite her displacement. Stormy stopped chewing her lip and broke the silence, finally answering.

“One should accept gifts as graciously as possible, especially with Her kind. I would have left my mask if it were possible. But all that talk of souls,” she shrugged, “I’m me. Always have been, always will be. There’s nothing anyone could offer to tempt me into giving that up. No pretty mask. No power.” As she walked her mouth hung half open, her eyes far off. There was more to say, but then she sealed up, and nodded.

"I took it without thinkin'," it wouldn't be the first time she had done something of the sort, "and decided that s'worth it without checkin' costs. Still, I ain't think we traded off our souls or anything." Despite herself, she smiled, "Even if I did, it ain't matter now. Maybe that's what it takes to get what ya want, anyway?" Tabitha didn't know where she really stood. She had taken the Semblance, and had chosen to wear it; those were the facts. What applied to others didn't seem to much have anything to do with her. People flyin' and fightin' and movin' rocks and shit. I ain't got nothin'. That had rolled around her mind, as well, since leaving the field. If Tabitha concentrated, as she was doing now, she could feel something begging to be moved. Something both within and around her.

Then, of course, as she tried to latch onto that feeling; that strange tingling that started in her fingers, Stormy called her out and lightly squeezed the hand she was so intently staring at.

“You’re hurting; your bravado hides it only so much. I don’t know what we’ll face here, but we’re in this together. All of us. Please don’t forget that, Tabby Cat,” She gave Tabitha’s hand a squeeze gentle enough to match her smile.

She wanted to pull back, but for no reason other than keeping distance; it didn't have the same alien feel that the Ghost Girl's grip possessed. Tabitha sighed, lifting the edge of her massive hat to scratch at her scalp; setting long strands of hair to dancing as she attempted to properly replace the oversized headgear, afterwards. She had known someone would eventually, but doubted it would be that quick. Or that quiet.

Tabby Cat, huh? Haven't heard that one in a while. It brought a smile to her face, despite the slight edge the thought held. "Yeah, I've been hurtin' for a while, Stormy," it was a whisper, her eyes without their usual steel, "I came here to make that right, weird as that sounds." Through all the doubts, that one thing had remained unmalleable in her mind; Irriss and the Ghost Girl could be whatever they wanted, but Tabitha Calvicante was going to get hers... through them or through something else that existed, here. And she was sure she'd know it, when she found it.

"I know what ya sayin'. I just don't know if we gonna make it work, like that."

She slowed herself, falling behind Stormy again. That's when she decided it was time to take a break, with or without the others. So, she announced it; kicking a rock and putting forward a question.

Stormy halted with the party. Sliding down its trunk, she plonked herself at the base of a tree with brick-red bark and honeyed leaves. Uncertainty and worry swam in her eyes, so she shut them tightly, tilting her face up to the dappled sunbeams that smiled back at her.

“I’m sure there will be all the food you can eat in Silverbook.”

The mask weighed heavy in her pocket.

She did not think of picnics.
@Kafka Komedy Hope you don't mind me copying your header style; I thought it looked pretty nifty.
Henryk

Looks like I’ll have to get my hands dirty, ‘sppose that’s what you get for making deal with this sort. The theory of magic wasn’t his strong suit; he’d studied what he could, but wrapping his head around the more abstract stuff was tricky, and there wasn’t even much concrete to go on – mana and its uses were awfully nebulous. That left him as one of the “combat-capable”. I just hope you're right Al, otherwise I’m not letting you go.

A muffled sigh escaped past Henryk’s hand. Alma’s competitive streak was notorious. Never had he known anyone else who thought that eleven minutes was a notable amount of time, but Alma had lorded her miniscule seniority over him since they first learnt to speak. Well, now I can’t just blow it off, can I? Great. He ran a hand through his hair and completed the high-five with his other. His eyes held a further message, We’ll win, sister dearest, don’t worry; I’ll do everything I can to make sure you do.

The tirade from the willowy man, Lukas he had introduced himself as, made Henryk chuckle slightly. Didn’t have him pinned as a religious crazy, but I like the cut of his gib.

“Maybe we can test that faith of yours sometime?” Henryk muttered, scratching his chin, “Something tells me you’d made a good drinking buddy.”

Then it was over. Judith made her exit, quickly followed by the fidgety looking woman that must have been Akyna. Guess she’s laser-focussed. Henryk shrugged. The post-meeting hub-bub began to swell. He got up behind his sister’s chair and leaned on it with both arms. Greece could wait; right now there was a certain victory-hungry missus who needed to be sated.

“Dear sister,” he said from behind with a solemn face and monotone register, “Remember it’s just a game, yeah? Don’t get too carried away, this is supposed to bring us all closer.”

Then he leant in and squished his face next to hers, and a crooked smile cracked his façade, “And besides, we’ll hand ‘em their asses.” Henryk straightened up again and rested his hands on her shoulders.

“Hey Alia,” He said, waving at the girl dressed up like she was a court magician from some Dumas novel. Never thought a cape could look so good.

“Why don’t you talk shop with my sister here,” He said, pinching Alma’s cheeks, “She doesn’t bite,” then he winked, “Much.”

He began walking off, “Al, I’m going to our room to change, knock before coming in, if you do.” And he made his exit, snatching up his jacket and throwing it over his shoulder.

Henryk

An air conditioning unit’s echoing hum could be heard in the meeting room from some far-off hidden recess. Despite this, Henryk had draped his jacket over the back of his chair and loosened his tie. The top button of his shirt was also undone, revealing more of his trailing tattoo. His cheeks seemed flusher than usual, but only Alma could possibly notice this. Apart from those, no obvious signs of discomfort showed.

After the hushed chatter and acquaintance making, Alma handling most of this for him, Judith began talking.

For the duration of the brief presentation he sat, reclined in his chair, away from the table, one leg resting by its ankle across his other knee. His gloves rested in his lap. He kept his face purposefully blank, a cold slab of granite, and allowed his vision to sweep across the room and its occupants with bored languor. His eyes were flints.

When it was done, he raised an eyebrow at Alma, as if to say, Can you believe this shit? And the semblance of a smile actually made its way across his face; a vein of silver in an otherwise daunting rock wall.

He would save his questions for last, waiting for the others to hopefully ask them for him.
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