[Has there… always been a statue out here, where the Grove gives way to the the trees? Surely not. But that doesn’t change the fact that a suit of armor stands deathly still, silently surveying the grove. A blade, solid black as if cut from obsidian, is plunged into the ground at the moment, while metal clad fingers grip the hilt.
Surely this is a new addition. A trick, perhaps, albeit one that’s been sitting undisturbed. Coated by the freshly falling November snow as it is, this little prank has gone unnoticed for some time. A solid inch of powder lays across the surface of metal, unfazed even by the whisper of wind.
It is, by all means, just a statue. And yet, as if sensing the presence of someone else, a flicker of movement may register. The helmet tilts, ethereal plume shifting with it, as the suit of armor seems to consider its visitor.
Well then. What say you?]
ii. Weather Me to Nothing — Stables
[Silent Salt has not yet made sense of what has happened. He recalled, clear as day, kneeling before the virtue of freedom and pledging his strength to her. And yet, just as quickly as he felt relief flood through him, hope for a future yet unwritten, everything seemed to go wrong.
And now… he is here. He knows he is far from the Barren, but the question of just how far settles uncomfortably in his chest. What of Salt Cellar Cookie, and the knights who had only just found their Lord Commander again? And that was to say nothing of the new duty he had thrust upon himself.
His head swims as he tries to search the town for answers. He sincerely doubts that the stables will have any answers for him, yet he stumbles into them all the same, determined to leave no stone left unturned.
Not an entirely worthless effort, he quickly notes. Though it is devoid of answers, it is not devoid of familiarity. A steed just as stained as he is stares back at him, nickering faintly as they regarded one another.]
Nox Black Salt [His voice feels gritty, fettered by an emotion he dares not name.] I should have known you would find your way to my side, even now.
iii. Wash Away the Blood on my Hands — The Inn
[Pleasantly familiar, yet altogether foreign. That is the only way he can describe the sight of a bountiful feast and smiling faces. He has seen solidarity like this before, amongst his own knights and their beloved people. Yet they had never known comfort like this. Meals had been hard fought and fleeting. Meager as they were, they had sufficed for what they were. But this… This was a display of abundance, one he would have wept over all those millenia ago.
Once more, Silent Salt finds himself gripped by that strange sensation. He is grateful that no one, up until this point, has cast a glance his way. He remains in the corner, watching uncorrupted happiness be passed from hand to hand. Given how low he has fallen, he suspects he should be jealous.
But only warmth seems to flood from his chest as he continues to watch. Given how stricken is, you can hopefully forgive him if he doesn’t respond to any nudging right away. Just give him a minute or two, he’ll come around.]
iv. Don't you wake me up — Wildcard
[You know what to do. Throw something at me. Be gentle with me, this is a very new muse and I’m scared.]
[ Perhaps the sweet scent that carries on the breeze is enough to tell who the young boy is- the Garden's grip never fully releasing, or perhaps its the tart halo bobbing behind his head, but Pavlova for a moment doesn't seem to recognize Silent Salt as he approached.
He looks just the same as the last time Silent Salt saw him all those centuries ago, though perhaps a touch less cheerful. The boy was squinting hard at Silent Salt, as though studying him-- before noticing the soul jam. When he saw that, a smile seemed to break out, genuine at first, then hardening into a mask of forced calm.
All of the virtues fell after all. His father may be doing better, but pretty much anyone from Earthbread was a bright blinking danger sign. Even so, he flutters over, reaching for the hand not directly supporting the hilt of his sword. ]
Uncle Salt! What are you doing just standing there? You've gotta be cold even with all that armor.
[Silent Salt's voice comes out as a snarl. He snatches his hand back, away from the searching grip. The hand against the blade, meanwhile, tightens, causing leather and metal alike to groan. Young though the cookie might have appeared, Silent Salt knew all too well what Pavlova was capable of. Even if he knew just how terribly his fellow former virtue could twist minds in the name of her corrupted happiness, he could not simply forgive what had been done against his own home.]
[With a more respectable distance achieved, Silent Salt's grip eases up. Though he still regards Pavlova with no small amount of suspicion, he can at least be contented with this much.]
You choose now to be concerned? [He doubts the truth in those words, and shakes his head at the thought.] It matters not where I am. I will endure, as I always have.
[it is a normal night at the inn, and Elder Faerie Cookie has been listening to the sounds of people mingling from upstairs in his room. yes, he probably should eat. he's been in his room studying all afternoon, like he's been hibernating.
but something is nagging at his soul, an earnest tugging or nudging, and he is uncertain as to whether it is apprehension or excitement. it is like his heart is leaping in his chest. he wonders what has happened. he's already seen so much in this world. what if something terrible has happened again?
it is chilly, so he gathers up his robes and shoes and makes his way down the stairs alone to find the feast waiting for him. a party? he does not mind if he partakes!
before he can obtain a plate and some food, something in his gut tells him to turn around and look into the corner. it's strange, like eyes are there. that, in itself, would not be unheard of for this haunted inn. what he does not expect is Silent Salt Cookie to be there, not even a ghost, but fully in the armor.
it is a very good thing that Elder Faerie did not grab food, yet, because he would have dropped the plate in his shock. as it is, he's standing still among the festivities]
[Many faces seem to come and go from this gathering. Some leave in frustration, having thrown a hand of colorful cards up in the air, while others stumble out in a juice-addled haze. Others come in late, red in the face from the cold. It leaves him with so much to observe, so many faces to keep track of.
Which is why he does not immediately notice the presence of another. Though something certainly does pull at the back of his mind, that has been the case for some time, hasn't it? Thus he pays it no heed until he has finished observing the newest face to enter from the outdoors.
In the end, he is not sure if he regrets not turning to look sooner, or if he wishes he had kept his eyes away for longer. Like many things — the decisions of White Lily Cookie, the ascension of the new virtues, to name just a scant few — news of Elder Faerie's fate had reached him despite his solitude. He had resigned himself to never seeing his dear friend again, deciding that it was perhaps for the best. Better that Elder Faerie not have to witness his terrible fall anymore than he already has.
And yet... here he is. Here they both are.
Silent Salt takes a step forward, body moving without his permission. When sense returns, he halts his forward momentum, instead tilting his head as he tries to make out what manner of magic could be causing an illusion such as this.]
[Elder Faerie stays stock-still, his eyes fixed upon the moving suit of armor. even now he knows it, even now, he remembers the Beast that came to him covered in crumbs and jam. not his own, no. that was...
his eyes well with tears and he has to stop himself from breaking down in the middle of the feast. already, a few interested pairs of eyes are staring at the both of them, and he desperately wishes he had enough power to disappear, with Silent Salt in tow, so that they could be alone for this reunion.
his dear friend seems surprised. and, why wouldn't he be? Elder Faerie should not be alive. yet, mercifully, he was brought to this world. and, perhaps, even more mercifully, he was given a chance to meet White Lily Cookie again. and this one, too! certainly, Elder Faerie had toyed with the idea that either the Salt of Solidarity or Silent Salt the Beast could be brought here. if he was able to be revived, then the Gods of this world could bring anyone from Earthbread, be they dead or alive]
This world has both horrors and magic even beyond our own.
[his voice is cracked, dry. he steels himself, but it doesn't prevent the tear that rolls down his cheek. he quickly wipes at it]
[Some part of Silent Salt itches to reach out. He cannot say how long this side of him has lain dormant for. He wants to believe it fell into slumber the moment the Salt of Solidarity ceased to be, but he suspects it stretches even further beyond that. Even before he stained himself forevermore, he believed himself to be unworthy of the time and grace that Elder Faerie gave him.
Even still, his chest aches with the need to wipe that single tear away.]
Then whatever horrors I shall face, in this realm, I shall do so without question. Any of it would be worth this gift. [And yet...] Do not weep for me, old friend.
[After all he has done, he does not deserve the tears of one so great. Yet even as he says this, he feels something burn within his own vision. The tightness in his throat also sees fit to return. How troublesome.]
[WOW???? put those sweet words away??? Elder Faerie is going to die. again.
he wipes at his other cheek, catching another tear]
Fear not. I weep not for you, but for the god of this world that has allowed me to see you again. I am sorry that you shall have to suffer this fate, though, at the same time, I am glad for it.
[this means that Silent Salt must have been here, too, right? in the past? Elder Faerie can only hope that is the case.
anyway, he's starting to walk, at least, his feet are. they wish to move, wish to get closer. the ache in his heart is much more painful. the idea that this could all be a dream, or not real, is too painful to bear]
[There is someone in the feast that taking this with way less weight than Salt, but that's probably to be expected. After all, what's the point of being so virtuous about it if it's just going to get eaten anyway? Why risk leaving some to spoil? But Salt has always been this kind of person, Shadow Milk thinks. Very self-righteous and self-sacrificing, even with his fall. Even now he stands at the edges like a sentinel as if watching for some invisible threat.]
[Shadow Milk likes to think he knows the other Beasts fairly well, but Salt had always been harder for him to read. Rather he seemed very straight forward and upfront, but lately... Ah well. None of that really matters now, right? Right.]
[A plate suddenly floats on by Salt, hovers right in front of him. Shadow Milk leans on his staff, appearing moments later out of the ether.]
To have a plate yourself isn't taking away from anyone else, you know!
[It was only a matter of time before their paths crossed. From the moment he arrived, he'd felt the threads of Shadow Milk's presence. Cursory investigation of his surroundings had revealed all the evidence he needed to confirm that suspicion — the research hall was an obvious hallmark of the former emissary. Since then, he'd kept a respectable distance from the other Cookie.
Best not to start a fight when there were so many dynamics at play, after all.
That didn't mean he let his guard down. He had been waiting for some time for Shadow Milk to show his hand, to make a move of his own. It was only a matter of time — the jester did seem to wither without adequate attention, after all.
The floating plate is caught with nary a glance. Instead, Silent Salt turns his attention toward Shadow Milk as he appears.]
I do not need it. [Behind the helmet, a single eye swivels in search of a soul without a meal. Finding none, he opts to keep the plate for the time being. Surely someone would be hungry soon enough.] Since when does Deceit care for the well being of others?
[It was incredibly telling that Salt did not seek him out, after he knew the other was deeply aware of his presence. The Beholders watched him frequently from corners of the Grove. And yet, perhaps it was also telling that Shadow Milk similarly did not make himself just as known! Loudly, and with confetti.]
[There is something Different between them now, though Shadow Milk doesn't know what it is on Salt's end.]
Hm, have you eaten anything at all since you arrived here I wonder! I bet you're shriveling right up! These bodies aren't like our dough from before, after all.
[Or maybe he's just a specter in a suit of armor. He wonders...]
Good question! If I told you the answer, would you even believe me?
[There are many advantages to wearing a hunk of metal on ones head. Right now, said advantage was hiding the way he grimaces at Shadow Milk's words. He has learned all too well how different his body has become. There are new needs, grotesque ones, to tend to, while old ones have taken on a new form.
Thankfully, he has already learned his lesson about eating. If a cookie-turned-man in a suit of armor falls down outside of a forest, and no one is around to laugh at him, did it really happen?]
I have eaten. [Plain, barely toasted bread suited him just fine. It was a plentiful enough resource, one he did not set the sharp teeth of guilt to gnawing at his insides.] And now I am content to ensure others do.
[His head tilts, gaze staring down at the other cookie. After a moment, a faint breath — almost close to a snort — leaves him.]
[They are utterly disgusting, Shadow Milk thinks. They have uses, but ugh, everything else. He grins though, because while he cannot see the grimace, his pause tells him plenty.]
Hm. [He doesn't believe you, or if he's eaten, it was probably hardly anything at all. Perhaps he found hardtack somewhere and has been subsisting off of that!] Very well! Do what you want with the plate, I would just hate to find you depleted and face down in the snow because this finicky human body gave up on you. Embarrassing, if you ask me!
[But that is all he will say on that. For now. Anyway, was that a laugh? Hohoho, it might have been. He seems pleased, though as Salt looks down, it's the Beholder in Shadow Milk's staff that meets his gaze, while Shadow Milk looks forward, gaze focused on nothing. Even human, his appearance is terribly different. Hair short, the eyes all closed. He is beset with dozens of scars, which he boasts proudly with his clothing choices.]
( she had been basking in the warmth of the fireplace in the inn, brushing one of her pets' fur when it happens-- there is a tug in her mind she has not felt before, not even when fragments of herself fluttered against dark enchantress cookie's own mind only to wisp away again. there is a hum in her soul she has not known, and yet somehow it feels
right.
there is a voice calling out within her, and though she silently tends to marble's fur without wandering out just yet, she hopes there is an answer. it is the first time since she awoke from the coffin that her soul jam has felt alive again, and it wants what is out there. yearns.
she always has yearned so.
no, she will not wander out into the open with this feeling while she cannot hear approaching dangers even with marble at her side, brushing her fur out with trembling hands and ever-sore fingers, and wait, a beacon of light in the tower, so to speak. is it anxiety, fear or glee that make her hands shake? she doesn't know, but marble is at least patient with her and rumbles with purrs all the same. )
[There are advantages to the vigil that Silent Salt keeps at the edge of the woods. He has not moved since his arrival, and it is for more than one purpose. It allows him to understand the world around him, to observe the lively faces that pass by. More than that, it allows his mind to acclimate. Unlike his name, his mind is not a silent place. It is a web of connections, some dormant and some not. Yet ripped from a large some of them as he is, the quiet has become deafening.
He needs time to sort through them, to understand what pieces of the web remain intact.
The sticky blue of knowledge and deceit is what comes to him first. He expects the others will follow, but when only one strand takes shape, he tucks it away into the back of his mind. Confronting Shadow Milk in a realm he does not understand will only bring harm. That is especially true when it's apparent that there are collateral souls occupying this place.
But it isn't long until something even deeper than that centuries old connection takes shape. It is the other half of his being, something that has existed as long as he has, different though it has become. Once, he had reviled it. Now it feels like salvation. He had known it for only seconds back home, but it had been enough to completely reshape everything.
And right now, he does not know if he should run to or from its force.
Fate, as it turns out, sees fit to tell him where to go. Pavlova Cookie approaches him, and his first priority becomes dealing with the cherubic creature. Though his initial impressions are off, suspicion remains. Still, more pressing matters begin to take shape. Though he might have hoped approaching her home would take him to her, he is disappointed that the ache within his chest takes him elsewhere.
Matters settled, he realizes he has begun moving in that direction unconsciously. His body knows what the soul needs, and opts to overrule the mind. Doors are swung open, and though he has to duck to enter, enter he does.
And there she is. Despite the relaxed atmosphere, White Lily Cookie shines brighter than ever. Some part of him thinks himself unworthy of her light, the kiss of freedom he had been unable to obtain with his own two hands. But he approaches her all the same.
Rather than face her directly, though, he kneels behind the chair she sits upon. Knowing not her affliction, he speaks aloud.]
( marble notices his physical presence, and when she moves to look at him, so to does lily. she turns in her chair just in time to see him kneel behind her, even. lily stares for a moment, so stunned she feels like her heart is about to freeze- )
Ah-
( what is he saying? she knows he must be saying something, but she can't- with every new encounter the state of her body drives her higher into a panic, truly. was this what the forest wanted, why it did this to her? her heartbeat spikes, her body feels stiff and weak at the same time and she almost feels sick... after a moment, she grips her staff and tries to think, to tug on that bond that guided him to her and let him understand--
I am so sorry. The forest stole my ability to hear, and I do not believe our memories align. I want to know you. But I am not as you remember.
she can only pray that jam opens to jam.
all the while, vernal- the little dachsologie, white with red eyes and the faintest green tints on it's divine markings- finally stirs. it had been napping curled up beside her but- soul meets soul, and then does so again. the way her thoughts swirl and churn inside her is worrying and makes the poor thing whimper a bit. )
[Even before she reaches for that bond, Silent Salt feels it. There is pain and fear, confusion and panic. Almost immediately, he is on his feet once more, taking a step away from her. He does not know what could have warranted this reaction, but he will not question it. If White Lily did not want to suffer his presence then -
her voice reaches him through the connection of their Soul Jam. He brings a hand to his head, trying to focus on her words.
What do you mean? How did that creature do this?
Rage boils through him. His head snaps toward the forest, the billowing plume of his head crackling with the force. Pavlova had warned about its danger, but if whatever beast lurked within had seen fit to sully his light, then he would make it pay.
He has half of a mind to rush from the room here and now. Would, if not for the fact that Pavlova's own words echo within his mind.]
Explain. Now.
[Some part of him feels guilty for his demands. He should not be so forceful with her. Hopefully she can feel that his fury is not directed toward her, at the very least]
( beneath the flames of fury is an affection she cannot name, and somehow that is more jarring than the wrath itself. and yet...
...
she reaches out for him, a gentle open hand wrapped in bandages even now while marble watches him with keen eyes. )
Sit with me? I will explain as best as I can. I just wanted to see if I could open that door so I could hear you somehow... ... You have a wonderful voice.
I'm grateful that it worked.
( she'll wait for his actions and leave the 'door' open, so to speak, before inhaling. )
Crumbling is not as it should be in this realm. While we're under the torment of the fallen God possessing the forest, if we should meet our end... it will be impermanent. ( disgust curiosity fear anxiety wrong wrong wrong why does she always come back how does it work can she save someone with this no no no ) But to come back to life requires a cost- if it is a reminder of his power or a trade for our lives, I don't know.
I had died in an attempt to wake myself from it's curse and in turn, it burst something in my ears, leaving me deaf.
[by now, kiera knows very well the creatures who frequent the stable. likewise, they know a new "voice" when they hear it, soft a sound as the nickering might be. even if they didn't take note from around the back, pinto also gives the particular whinny she does upon seeing a stranger, be it person or horse.
they let their footsteps be obvious as they approach and enter the back door before those feet guide them to pinto's stall, even as their eyes seek out the newcomers. a hand strokes down the face of their own horse, soothing her, as kiera regards the otherworldly figures with interest.]
I wasn't aware we had another knight in town. And such a handsome steed! Welcome to you both.
[As Kiera enters, Nox Black Salt turns their attention to the stranger first. A low whicker leaves the horse, acknowledgement and warning both. Their master does not immediately turn. Instinct alone tells him that it is not a Beast or threat he is familiar with, and thus not worth an instant reaction. He finishes his efforts, content with Nox's mane, before turning to the visitor once and for all.
Admittedly, the admission to being a knight makes him feel somewhat uneasy. There's nothing immediately familiar about their visage, and there are plenty of knights in the world, but still...]
Thank you for the hospitality. [He bows his head in acknowledgement, managing respect despite his trepidation.] These stables, do they belong to you?
[they tilt their head, thinking on their answer before giving it.]
I built them [correction: you asked for them to be built] and tend them, but they are free for residents to use! All I ask in return is that you treat your companions well and clean up after them.
Ser Kiera Aurelius. Who's your friend? [as playful as their tone is, uh, sorry they are eternally a horse girl and care more about honse than you.]
[Despite his choice of words, his tone remains even, no immediate surge of emotion or care. He gives a nod to their request, at least. That would be no issue. No offense, but he doesn't trust Nox to just anyone.]
Nox Black Salt. [He gives a careful scratch behind their ear.] They have served me for many centuries now. Their care is of the utmost importance to me, and a duty I alone will undertake. You will have no issues there.
[He inclines his head at Kiera.]
Should you ever notice an issue, though, you are welcome to seek out Silent Salt Cookie. I will be by their side in an instant.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-11-16 02:41 am (UTC)[Has there… always been a statue out here, where the Grove gives way to the the trees? Surely not. But that doesn’t change the fact that a suit of armor stands deathly still, silently surveying the grove. A blade, solid black as if cut from obsidian, is plunged into the ground at the moment, while metal clad fingers grip the hilt.
Surely this is a new addition. A trick, perhaps, albeit one that’s been sitting undisturbed. Coated by the freshly falling November snow as it is, this little prank has gone unnoticed for some time. A solid inch of powder lays across the surface of metal, unfazed even by the whisper of wind.
It is, by all means, just a statue. And yet, as if sensing the presence of someone else, a flicker of movement may register. The helmet tilts, ethereal plume shifting with it, as the suit of armor seems to consider its visitor.
Well then. What say you?]
ii. Weather Me to Nothing — Stables
[Silent Salt has not yet made sense of what has happened. He recalled, clear as day, kneeling before the virtue of freedom and pledging his strength to her. And yet, just as quickly as he felt relief flood through him, hope for a future yet unwritten, everything seemed to go wrong.
And now… he is here. He knows he is far from the Barren, but the question of just how far settles uncomfortably in his chest. What of Salt Cellar Cookie, and the knights who had only just found their Lord Commander again? And that was to say nothing of the new duty he had thrust upon himself.
His head swims as he tries to search the town for answers. He sincerely doubts that the stables will have any answers for him, yet he stumbles into them all the same, determined to leave no stone left unturned.
Not an entirely worthless effort, he quickly notes. Though it is devoid of answers, it is not devoid of familiarity. A steed just as stained as he is stares back at him, nickering faintly as they regarded one another.]
Nox Black Salt [His voice feels gritty, fettered by an emotion he dares not name.] I should have known you would find your way to my side, even now.
iii. Wash Away the Blood on my Hands — The Inn
[Pleasantly familiar, yet altogether foreign. That is the only way he can describe the sight of a bountiful feast and smiling faces. He has seen solidarity like this before, amongst his own knights and their beloved people. Yet they had never known comfort like this. Meals had been hard fought and fleeting. Meager as they were, they had sufficed for what they were. But this… This was a display of abundance, one he would have wept over all those millenia ago.
Once more, Silent Salt finds himself gripped by that strange sensation. He is grateful that no one, up until this point, has cast a glance his way. He remains in the corner, watching uncorrupted happiness be passed from hand to hand. Given how low he has fallen, he suspects he should be jealous.
But only warmth seems to flood from his chest as he continues to watch. Given how stricken is, you can hopefully forgive him if he doesn’t respond to any nudging right away. Just give him a minute or two, he’ll come around.]
iv. Don't you wake me up — Wildcard
[You know what to do. Throw something at me. Be gentle with me, this is a very new muse and I’m scared.]
I for the boy
Date: 2025-11-16 03:02 am (UTC)He looks just the same as the last time Silent Salt saw him all those centuries ago, though perhaps a touch less cheerful. The boy was squinting hard at Silent Salt, as though studying him-- before noticing the soul jam. When he saw that, a smile seemed to break out, genuine at first, then hardening into a mask of forced calm.
All of the virtues fell after all. His father may be doing better, but pretty much anyone from Earthbread was a bright blinking danger sign. Even so, he flutters over, reaching for the hand not directly supporting the hilt of his sword. ]
Uncle Salt! What are you doing just standing there? You've gotta be cold even with all that armor.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-16 03:23 am (UTC)[Silent Salt's voice comes out as a snarl. He snatches his hand back, away from the searching grip. The hand against the blade, meanwhile, tightens, causing leather and metal alike to groan. Young though the cookie might have appeared, Silent Salt knew all too well what Pavlova was capable of. Even if he knew just how terribly his fellow former virtue could twist minds in the name of her corrupted happiness, he could not simply forgive what had been done against his own home.]
State your business or begone.
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Date: 2025-11-16 03:49 am (UTC)Well jeeze, I guess that shows me for being concerned!
[ He crosses his arms, shying away a step but looking... petulant if cautious. ]
I just haven't seen you in the Grove before. Do you even know where you are?
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Date: 2025-11-16 04:08 am (UTC)You choose now to be concerned? [He doubts the truth in those words, and shakes his head at the thought.] It matters not where I am. I will endure, as I always have.
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Date: 2025-11-16 04:30 am (UTC)[ Not that he expects to be believed. If anyone were going to be wary of Deceit from him from the start, it'd be the other beasts. ]
It does matter. Because we're not on Earthbread now and everything is different. You don't even know what you're enduring or who's here or anything.
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From:iii inn
Date: 2025-11-16 03:05 am (UTC)but something is nagging at his soul, an earnest tugging or nudging, and he is uncertain as to whether it is apprehension or excitement. it is like his heart is leaping in his chest. he wonders what has happened. he's already seen so much in this world. what if something terrible has happened again?
it is chilly, so he gathers up his robes and shoes and makes his way down the stairs alone to find the feast waiting for him. a party? he does not mind if he partakes!
before he can obtain a plate and some food, something in his gut tells him to turn around and look into the corner. it's strange, like eyes are there. that, in itself, would not be unheard of for this haunted inn. what he does not expect is Silent Salt Cookie to be there, not even a ghost, but fully in the armor.
it is a very good thing that Elder Faerie did not grab food, yet, because he would have dropped the plate in his shock. as it is, he's standing still among the festivities]
--!!
here we fuckin go 😭
Date: 2025-11-16 03:50 am (UTC)Which is why he does not immediately notice the presence of another. Though something certainly does pull at the back of his mind, that has been the case for some time, hasn't it? Thus he pays it no heed until he has finished observing the newest face to enter from the outdoors.
In the end, he is not sure if he regrets not turning to look sooner, or if he wishes he had kept his eyes away for longer. Like many things — the decisions of White Lily Cookie, the ascension of the new virtues, to name just a scant few — news of Elder Faerie's fate had reached him despite his solitude. He had resigned himself to never seeing his dear friend again, deciding that it was perhaps for the best. Better that Elder Faerie not have to witness his terrible fall anymore than he already has.
And yet... here he is. Here they both are.
Silent Salt takes a step forward, body moving without his permission. When sense returns, he halts his forward momentum, instead tilting his head as he tries to make out what manner of magic could be causing an illusion such as this.]
How is it that you - ?
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Date: 2025-11-16 04:20 am (UTC)his eyes well with tears and he has to stop himself from breaking down in the middle of the feast. already, a few interested pairs of eyes are staring at the both of them, and he desperately wishes he had enough power to disappear, with Silent Salt in tow, so that they could be alone for this reunion.
his dear friend seems surprised. and, why wouldn't he be? Elder Faerie should not be alive. yet, mercifully, he was brought to this world. and, perhaps, even more mercifully, he was given a chance to meet White Lily Cookie again. and this one, too! certainly, Elder Faerie had toyed with the idea that either the Salt of Solidarity or Silent Salt the Beast could be brought here. if he was able to be revived, then the Gods of this world could bring anyone from Earthbread, be they dead or alive]
This world has both horrors and magic even beyond our own.
[his voice is cracked, dry. he steels himself, but it doesn't prevent the tear that rolls down his cheek. he quickly wipes at it]
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Date: 2025-11-16 04:34 am (UTC)Even still, his chest aches with the need to wipe that single tear away.]
Then whatever horrors I shall face, in this realm, I shall do so without question. Any of it would be worth this gift. [And yet...] Do not weep for me, old friend.
[After all he has done, he does not deserve the tears of one so great. Yet even as he says this, he feels something burn within his own vision. The tightness in his throat also sees fit to return. How troublesome.]
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Date: 2025-11-16 04:49 am (UTC)he wipes at his other cheek, catching another tear]
Fear not. I weep not for you, but for the god of this world that has allowed me to see you again. I am sorry that you shall have to suffer this fate, though, at the same time, I am glad for it.
[this means that Silent Salt must have been here, too, right? in the past? Elder Faerie can only hope that is the case.
anyway, he's starting to walk, at least, his feet are. they wish to move, wish to get closer. the ache in his heart is much more painful. the idea that this could all be a dream, or not real, is too painful to bear]
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From:silent salt has joined the party
From:[final fantasy victory music intensifies]
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From:i lied i'm actually feral
From:you're right for that bc me too
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From:III
Date: 2025-11-16 03:15 am (UTC)[Shadow Milk likes to think he knows the other Beasts fairly well, but Salt had always been harder for him to read. Rather he seemed very straight forward and upfront, but lately... Ah well. None of that really matters now, right? Right.]
[A plate suddenly floats on by Salt, hovers right in front of him. Shadow Milk leans on his staff, appearing moments later out of the ether.]
To have a plate yourself isn't taking away from anyone else, you know!
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Date: 2025-11-16 04:05 am (UTC)Best not to start a fight when there were so many dynamics at play, after all.
That didn't mean he let his guard down. He had been waiting for some time for Shadow Milk to show his hand, to make a move of his own. It was only a matter of time — the jester did seem to wither without adequate attention, after all.
The floating plate is caught with nary a glance. Instead, Silent Salt turns his attention toward Shadow Milk as he appears.]
I do not need it. [Behind the helmet, a single eye swivels in search of a soul without a meal. Finding none, he opts to keep the plate for the time being. Surely someone would be hungry soon enough.] Since when does Deceit care for the well being of others?
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Date: 2025-11-16 04:11 am (UTC)[There is something Different between them now, though Shadow Milk doesn't know what it is on Salt's end.]
Hm, have you eaten anything at all since you arrived here I wonder! I bet you're shriveling right up! These bodies aren't like our dough from before, after all.
[Or maybe he's just a specter in a suit of armor. He wonders...]
Good question! If I told you the answer, would you even believe me?
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Date: 2025-11-16 04:18 am (UTC)Thankfully, he has already learned his lesson about eating. If a cookie-turned-man in a suit of armor falls down outside of a forest, and no one is around to laugh at him, did it really happen?]
I have eaten. [Plain, barely toasted bread suited him just fine. It was a plentiful enough resource, one he did not set the sharp teeth of guilt to gnawing at his insides.] And now I am content to ensure others do.
[His head tilts, gaze staring down at the other cookie. After a moment, a faint breath — almost close to a snort — leaves him.]
We both know the answer to that.
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Date: 2025-11-16 04:54 am (UTC)Hm. [He doesn't believe you, or if he's eaten, it was probably hardly anything at all. Perhaps he found hardtack somewhere and has been subsisting off of that!] Very well! Do what you want with the plate, I would just hate to find you depleted and face down in the snow because this finicky human body gave up on you. Embarrassing, if you ask me!
[But that is all he will say on that. For now. Anyway, was that a laugh? Hohoho, it might have been. He seems pleased, though as Salt looks down, it's the Beholder in Shadow Milk's staff that meets his gaze, while Shadow Milk looks forward, gaze focused on nothing. Even human, his appearance is terribly different. Hair short, the eyes all closed. He is beset with dozens of scars, which he boasts proudly with his clothing choices.]
Then you'll just have to wonder forever! Alas!
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From:wildcard; dusk meets dusk
Date: 2025-11-16 08:02 pm (UTC)right.
there is a voice calling out within her, and though she silently tends to marble's fur without wandering out just yet, she hopes there is an answer. it is the first time since she awoke from the coffin that her soul jam has felt alive again, and it wants what is out there. yearns.
she always has yearned so.
no, she will not wander out into the open with this feeling while she cannot hear approaching dangers even with marble at her side, brushing her fur out with trembling hands and ever-sore fingers, and wait, a beacon of light in the tower, so to speak. is it anxiety, fear or glee that make her hands shake? she doesn't know, but marble is at least patient with her and rumbles with purrs all the same. )
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Date: 2025-11-16 09:00 pm (UTC)He needs time to sort through them, to understand what pieces of the web remain intact.
The sticky blue of knowledge and deceit is what comes to him first. He expects the others will follow, but when only one strand takes shape, he tucks it away into the back of his mind. Confronting Shadow Milk in a realm he does not understand will only bring harm. That is especially true when it's apparent that there are collateral souls occupying this place.
But it isn't long until something even deeper than that centuries old connection takes shape. It is the other half of his being, something that has existed as long as he has, different though it has become. Once, he had reviled it. Now it feels like salvation. He had known it for only seconds back home, but it had been enough to completely reshape everything.
And right now, he does not know if he should run to or from its force.
Fate, as it turns out, sees fit to tell him where to go. Pavlova Cookie approaches him, and his first priority becomes dealing with the cherubic creature. Though his initial impressions are off, suspicion remains. Still, more pressing matters begin to take shape. Though he might have hoped approaching her home would take him to her, he is disappointed that the ache within his chest takes him elsewhere.
Matters settled, he realizes he has begun moving in that direction unconsciously. His body knows what the soul needs, and opts to overrule the mind. Doors are swung open, and though he has to duck to enter, enter he does.
And there she is. Despite the relaxed atmosphere, White Lily Cookie shines brighter than ever. Some part of him thinks himself unworthy of her light, the kiss of freedom he had been unable to obtain with his own two hands. But he approaches her all the same.
Rather than face her directly, though, he kneels behind the chair she sits upon. Knowing not her affliction, he speaks aloud.]
I hope I have not kept you waiting.
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Date: 2025-11-16 11:57 pm (UTC)Ah-
( what is he saying? she knows he must be saying something, but she can't- with every new encounter the state of her body drives her higher into a panic, truly. was this what the forest wanted, why it did this to her? her heartbeat spikes, her body feels stiff and weak at the same time and she almost feels sick... after a moment, she grips her staff and tries to think, to tug on that bond that guided him to her and let him understand--
I am so sorry. The forest stole my ability to hear, and I do not believe our memories align. I want to know you. But I am not as you remember.
she can only pray that jam opens to jam.
all the while, vernal- the little dachsologie, white with red eyes and the faintest green tints on it's divine markings- finally stirs. it had been napping curled up beside her but- soul meets soul, and then does so again. the way her thoughts swirl and churn inside her is worrying and makes the poor thing whimper a bit. )
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Date: 2025-11-17 03:53 am (UTC)her voice reaches him through the connection of their Soul Jam. He brings a hand to his head, trying to focus on her words.
What do you mean? How did that creature do this?
Rage boils through him. His head snaps toward the forest, the billowing plume of his head crackling with the force. Pavlova had warned about its danger, but if whatever beast lurked within had seen fit to sully his light, then he would make it pay.
He has half of a mind to rush from the room here and now. Would, if not for the fact that Pavlova's own words echo within his mind.]
Explain. Now.
[Some part of him feels guilty for his demands. He should not be so forceful with her. Hopefully she can feel that his fury is not directed toward her, at the very least]
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Date: 2025-11-17 04:29 am (UTC)...
she reaches out for him, a gentle open hand wrapped in bandages even now while marble watches him with keen eyes. )
Sit with me? I will explain as best as I can. I just wanted to see if I could open that door so I could hear you somehow... ... You have a wonderful voice.
I'm grateful that it worked.
( she'll wait for his actions and leave the 'door' open, so to speak, before inhaling. )
Crumbling is not as it should be in this realm. While we're under the torment of the fallen God possessing the forest, if we should meet our end... it will be impermanent. ( disgust curiosity fear anxiety wrong wrong wrong why does she always come back how does it work can she save someone with this no no no ) But to come back to life requires a cost- if it is a reminder of his power or a trade for our lives, I don't know.
I had died in an attempt to wake myself from it's curse and in turn, it burst something in my ears, leaving me deaf.
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From:ii ;)
Date: 2025-11-18 09:41 pm (UTC)they let their footsteps be obvious as they approach and enter the back door before those feet guide them to pinto's stall, even as their eyes seek out the newcomers. a hand strokes down the face of their own horse, soothing her, as kiera regards the otherworldly figures with interest.]
I wasn't aware we had another knight in town. And such a handsome steed! Welcome to you both.
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Date: 2025-11-18 11:56 pm (UTC)Admittedly, the admission to being a knight makes him feel somewhat uneasy. There's nothing immediately familiar about their visage, and there are plenty of knights in the world, but still...]
Thank you for the hospitality. [He bows his head in acknowledgement, managing respect despite his trepidation.] These stables, do they belong to you?
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Date: 2025-11-19 12:48 am (UTC)I built them [correction: you asked for them to be built] and tend them, but they are free for residents to use! All I ask in return is that you treat your companions well and clean up after them.
Ser Kiera Aurelius. Who's your friend? [as playful as their tone is, uh, sorry they are eternally a horse girl and care more about honse than you.]
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Date: 2025-11-19 01:45 am (UTC)[Despite his choice of words, his tone remains even, no immediate surge of emotion or care. He gives a nod to their request, at least. That would be no issue. No offense, but he doesn't trust Nox to just anyone.]
Nox Black Salt. [He gives a careful scratch behind their ear.] They have served me for many centuries now. Their care is of the utmost importance to me, and a duty I alone will undertake. You will have no issues there.
[He inclines his head at Kiera.]
Should you ever notice an issue, though, you are welcome to seek out Silent Salt Cookie. I will be by their side in an instant.
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