+ retro to flooding

There was so many things to talk about, and so little time. The rains were picking up, moulding together a force of nature that his pupils had not dilated on in quite a while. The oncoming cataclysmic clime, coupled with the group’s bloody rivalry with the Ascendants that looked to be worsening with each day, compelled a cognizance over the wolverine’s hunched shoulders. Wendell was sweet on communicating with Atbash Cipher, the former Hailcaller of his old home (which now lay in ruin, if the rumours we true). Upon hearing from smalltalk that she had enrolled with his tribe’s enemy, the dawnguard’s heart sank quicker than it ever had before - which said something, taking into account the many calamities which plagued his existence until this point. To the female, the Brit would apologize for his shifty ways, and confess himself to be nothing more than a deadbeat; owing to the conditions set in stone by political reasons, the weather, and fate, contact would have to be much sooner than first thought.

A letter was prime suspect to inspection, thus the mustelid turned to the tactic of playing telephone with an eager Ascendant. The plan had been simple; on a morning, prior to dawn, bribe an adversary from across the border to send a message, with the promise of fine drink as a reward. Given the time of the ordeal, he’d guessed that it’d just be a lone other patrolling the border, and given the avowal of alcohol (a substance Wendell had been known to own a bounty of), the deal would appear most alluring.

When his idea came to be, his accomplice had been most content to play telephone for booze.

"Tomorrow’s twilight, under a big tree just past the border, Wendell, to talk about everything.”

Knowing Atbash from a month’s experience, she was very proud, so the chances of her showing up had been slim; though, he’d wait. He tried speaking with her at that mass gathering, but didn’t get the chance to resume conversation before the leaders had begun discussing official business. Tonight was going to be a continuation if what could have been that night, as long as she wasn’t a no-show.

Optimistically, nothing horrible would come of this. 

+ lost muse towards the end, sadly

+ [member=597]ATBASH CIPHER.[/member] 

ATBASH CIPHER

somebody make me alive,
and shatter me !

bio | female | observer of the ascendants

Neath the eventide’s overcast gloom, the being’s chocolate stare into the beyond had faltered, so much so that it had almost quavered to the point of dormancy. The bristly pelt that he bore would harbour him against the biting breezes pertaining to November nights, indulging the wolverine to exhibit a sense of comfort. A few times had he slipped into brief shuteye, though he’d instinctively wake up mere seconds after, then reminding himself about the purpose which he held here. Ultimately, his chocolate hues shuttered for a final time, and soon Wendell found himself in a state of slumber; and then, as if a higher power had a hand in picking the timing, a voice which resembled one from yore shotgunned his eyelids open. Next ensued a stretch, a yawn, and a cough, and finally, the tired mammal was on all fours.

His heart rang like a telephone left unattended. Anxiousness, accompanied by anticipation, fueled a flame of promise within his hunched frame. Wendell departed his little rest spot to find the voice’s owner - and mildly gasped when he did. The darkness overshadowed her appearance, hence he could not view the wounds which Snowbound’s former chieftain had attained, though almost immediately could he tell something wasn’t the same. Could it have been the faint bod’s stature, was it one of shame? Again, he did not know. Though, there was a twang to the environment that gave him the impression that this was not the same powerful female he had known before.

Slowly, the mustelid approached, caution aching his paws with each stride. There was always the slimmest chance of this being a setup, yet he did not count on it, as this was Atbash, not quite an old friend, but a former ally (then again, it was an ally which he’d somewhat betrayed by leaving her to deal with the situation at home).

His target now in plain view, the mustelid would prudently query, "A-Atbash..?", soon after picking up the pace a little bit. It all felt so damn surreal, like this was all in a dreamlike state. No, this was real, and things could go either real good or real bad, depending on how his next few actions played out. Immediately, he’d hit her with an apology; ”Atbash! I’m so sorry for ev’rything. I left ya when ya needed me most, and- I’ve been nothing but a selfish numpty- and I swore I’d come back-“.

Way to play it cool with the hysterics, Wendell, if you keep it up, you’ll tear up.

ATBASH CIPHER

somebody make me alive,
and shatter me !

bio | female | observer of the ascendants

As the femme let pass his dishonest behaviour, even following it up with a smile, a sniffle rang from his wet snout. No matter what she’d say, and how sweet of her it was to say so, the mustelid would assume lay hold onto the guilt he had built up in his disposition for the rest of his lifetime.

News of Snowbound’s destruction wasn’t exactly need at this point, for he’d heard of it from a handful of other sources by now, though Atbash’s somber earful still coerced a cheerlessness round his plump frame. The wolverine understood that what has happened has happened, and there was no point in getting worked up about something he could not possibly change - yet every time he was reminded of it, dolefulness evoked his emotions, pegging a forlorn Wendell into a fray of disbelief. He had thought that he’d gotten over it by now; evidently, this was not the case. "Oh, Atbash, I’ve heard about Snowbound, and- and I’m so sorry." A shaky inhale entered his system following his stammered atonement, thoughts of the snow-filled paradise intruding the troubled psyche that was his own. All of it was gone, burnt to a crisp. And by whom? Who was to blame for the spontaneous destruction of homes, relationships, and lives?

Ms. Atbash wasn’t finished, though. She had persisted, and had even tried engaging in conversation with him. This brought a smile to his face, one which had become uncommon for his facial features to display these days. The lack of a grin which had become such a typical trait for Wendell clearly said something about his view on the situation he had gotten himself into. The ex-leader had been completely honest to him, hence his answer to the asked question was going to be the same.

”T’ tell ya the truth,” he initiated, his voice equipped with a sharp apex, ”I’ve never been a hundred-percent satisfied here. Even back before I had joined these guys’ ranks, I had come here t’ ask for any help in providing aid for Snowbound (because they were under control by the Pitt, y’know); and I wasn’t given anything, except for unsympathetic looks and a very small herb-pouch.”

”That’s why I never came back,” Wendell continued staidly, ”I’ve wanted to, but I couldn’t, not after trying t’ play hero like that and failing to previail. I’ve been mainly unhappy since, especially with this stupid fighting between my group and yer new one.”

”Speaking of yer group,” he’d quip suddenly, eyes lighting up from their prior greyed state, ”have you seen any former Snowboundfolk since the, y’know, burning? Uh, Dimitri came here, but that’s about it, for me.”

ATBASH CIPHER

somebody make me alive,
and shatter me !

bio | female | observer of the ascendants

In life, the luckless wolverine had desired for nothing more than peace. Peace, equity, and happiness. Some higher power implied that this was impossible, however, and instead of an existence prolonged elation, Wendell had been strapped in to a conveyor belt of nothing but tragedy and suffering. Years ago, he had discovered similar groups in a similar format as the ones local in these parts. Enticed by the promise of family and protection, the Brit eagerly enrolled in their ranks, and no sooner found himself the love and happiness which he had been fiercely seeking. Then, a forlorn circumstance forced him to lose his home, the name of which remains forgotten, and those who shared it with him. While weeks passed by him like snowflakes on a windy morning, his line had been cast into a lake of sheer sadness and despair, and it was only recently that he had finally left those waters and dried off (in a different plane of existence, no less). Snowbound had been his saving grace, it would be the tool in turning his life around; until a dire circumstance, very much akin to the one that lost him his old group, came into play. Emotionally, history had repeated itself. Once more, he had lost everything - his home, his safety, and whatever relationships he had in Snowbound.

Now, there was talk of a potential flood that could cause Sunhaven great catastrophe. Needless to say, Wendell was stressed.

His brown bulbs gazed blankly into Atbash’s figure as she described the lack of familiar faces in her situation, fear briefly rising up in his chest, prior to thinking, Dimitri is here, she’s in the Ascendants, surely there’s others sprinkled here and there throughout. She continued to speak, and Wendell’s fortune may have peaked right now, as Atbash (hopefully) could not view the awkward expression he had made while she renounced him being a coward; it was a mismatched cross between a smile and widened eyes out of percussion, which held faint traces of tears. All along, the dawnguard theorized that the Cipher decried him as a loser, a baby, a jellyfish, a quitter. Though, now he could recognize that the former Hailcaller was not one to hold grudges, and by god was he thankful for it.

Her last remark appeared to be a sentence unfinished, something to be continued. Eagerly, he complied. "It’s very hard, indeed, especially when everything you’ve ever known just disappears like that," the wolverine agreed, his final utterance emphasized by a thud on the moist ground with a forepaw. Furniture, memories, friends, everything, they all came to a close when in the chaotic clutches of a catastrophe, and it was with great hope that the rest of his life could go without an event alike those in the past.

”But, I do like it here,” he’d then ensure hesitantly, ”though, I certainly believe that some better decisions could be made; th’ concept of peace isn’t as appreciated as it was in Snowbound.”

ATBASH CIPHER

somebody make me alive,
and shatter me !

bio | female | starstruck guardian [shp] of the ascendants

Rounded ears, erstwhile pinned rearwards in a posture of fretfulness, hastened quickly so that they sat tall atop his small noggin in a stance of sympathy. This was an involuntary reaction, a result of what Atbash had to share about her past, and how Snowbound’s destruction wasn’t the first time everything she had known crumbled to an irremediable grit. On the subject, the wolverine did not feel pity towards his former superior; the Sunhavener could almost relate to the entirety of the Ascendant’s account. He, too, lost family, friends, and practically all he had ever owned afore his days in Snowbound, and it was his experience alone with the issue of forfeiture that made his departure from the snow-clad valley all the more heart-wrenching. Perhaps the only difference between the mustelid’s background and the Cipher’s was the manner in which his original home had been lost; his in a fury of ice, hers in an apparent rage of fire.

"Aye, I can relate t’ this as well," he’d follow in forlorn-seasoned admittance, his inhalation following a choppy beat, as if a marching drummer had lost an arm, ”I lost all I knew ‘n an incident similar to what befell Snowbound.” Whenever his mind wandered towards the radius of this portion of his past, the mopes would soon ensue - despite the anniversary of the life-changing event approaching quickly to its two-year anniversary. He’d haphazardly inhale once more, before clearing his wet throat to speak. ”I lost everything, then,” he’d wistfully inform, ”my friends, my sweetheart, my possessions... and it happened again in Snowbound. Now, I fear for th’ worst, and that’t could very well happen once again with these rains.”

Wendell wished not to think about the horrors the days of tomorrow may bring, though it was necessary if he wished to endure another crisis.

Though in this situation, with Atbash, with all these surges of sadness, all these bullies of anguish, it was likely best to talk about the present, and how well life was currently treating them.

”But, what about now? I trust- I hope th’ Ascendants are treating you well. How’re you fairing over there? How’re you doing on the social ladder?” 

ATBASH CIPHER

somebody make me alive,
and shatter me !

bio | female | starstruck guardian [shp] of the ascendants