thebastion | Day 124: Whispering Grass

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Day 124: Whispering Grass

Who: Rosethorn and anyone
Open: Wide open!
When: Day 124
Where: The Skyway. Or (especially if someone's already found her) you can go ahead and run into her in the Bastion on the assumption she's arrived there eventually.
What: A disgruntled and confused plant mage arrives.
Format: I prefer prose, but I'll go with whatever!
Warnings: There's no well to hang you in, but I can't promise she won't find other threats to make. She won't follow through unless someone attacks her.

This was not the task First Dedicate Dokyi planned to assign her. Granted, Rosethorn does not yet know what that task is, but she knows he wouldn't have knocked her unconscious and dragged her off somewhere else to do it.

Where else is the question. She sits up, hands digging into the earth as she does, her magic stretching outward through the roots of plants. Gyongxe is a strange enough place, but this isn't Gyongxe. The plants aren't right, the land isn't right. Wide flat plains instead of mountains. Rosethorn can breathe without a struggle, her lungs filling easily. While that would normally be a reassuring thought, it means she's at an entirely different altitude now.

It's a relief not to be in the hands of the Emperor's torturers, which would have been her first worry given current events, but the complete unfamiliarity of her surroundings counters that relief with a whole new set of worries. As she gets to her feet, Rosethorn sends her magic further afield at the same time she looks around, using all of the plants within an easily accessible range to tell her more about her surroundings. They do tell her one thing. No Briar, at least not close by. If he were here, the grass would know. It would recognize him, and she could find him in an instant. That means he and Evvy are on their own now, without her in a country about to descend into war. She was the one who brought them there, in service to her faith, and now she's gone and left them. She would never have done it willingly. "Mila protect them," she mutters.

Something different is visible in the distance, farther away than she can reach with her power even by threading her way through the tangle of roots the grass makes underground. Rosethorn will have to get closer before she can knows anything about it. Without any other destination in mind, she sets out. Straightening her dark green robes, a quick check is enough of a reminder that none of her packs are with her. She isn't entirely unarmed, but a belt knife at her waist and a pouch with one or two thorn seed packets won't be enough to face a significant threat.

It's going to be a very a long walk considering she has no idea what awaits at the end. Rosethorn's only consolation is that at least her eyes and the grass beneath her feet will let her know of any danger. There isn't much place for an enemy to hide here.

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People are something Duke always pays attention to, out on the Skyway. Its not terribly often that they show up, although recent events seem to indicate that might change. Really, a large group all at once?

The knight is poking about some rubble - there's fragments of what looks like might have been some sort of market here and there, torn up chunks of land, and what the knight seems interested in - bits of wood that weren't too damaged, lengths of rope that weren't shorter than one arm. There's already a small bundle next to the sword that is withing easy grabbing range, should the knight need it.

"... Thinking about it, I could probably use shards for this.... but routine. Works well enough for practice...."

Another person in the middle of all this hardly escapes Rosethorn's notice either. She alters her course slightly, starting toward the rubble and the person rummaging through it.

Rosethorn is within earshot by the time Duke speaks. "Shards of what?" she asks, a little more sharply than she means to. It isn't the important question, but she has to start somewhere.

"'Shards of the old world'." Duke replies with a grimace, straightening and blinking at Rosethorn. The woman doesn't look familiar to the knight, but they did just get a huge batch of survivors.

"If you find enough of them - breaking random junk in your way, getting rid of monsters - you can get things you want from the Bastion. New land, more animals, practice targets. Buildings if you get a lot." The knight studies her for a moment longer.

"... You just got here, didn't you."

At least whoever she's found seems friendly and knowledgeable. No sign of hostility and a chance at answers are greatly appreciated. Rosethorn's eyes narrow at the phrase 'old world,' lips pressing together in a frown.

Everything else is met impassively as she tries to piece together the situation, no changes of expression. Duke ended with more of a statement than a question, and Rosethorn responds with a grimace of her own. "I suppose that's obvious enough. I'd like to know where here is and what precisely you meant by 'old world.' "

"Ahh..." Duke stands, gathering sword and wood collection.

"This part is the Skyway. It forms ahead and dictates where you go, although if you head toward the light it will take you there. The light is the entrance to the Bastion, which is where everyone who's found themselves here lives. As for 'old world'..." The knight rubs under the ponytail with the back of one hand, studying the skyway about for a moment.

"Its not something that anyone can take easily. 'Old world' refers to... everything, I think. It could be just the remnants of this one, but.. the idea is that none of the ones were we ought to be are around either." Duke is okay with starting this here, because Rosethorn is pretty clearly not a teenager or a child, and probably could take this better than those age groups. Probably, right? "A big event called the Calamity got everything, leaving a few people... here."

Better? There isn't any possible way to take this well. Rosethorn drops to her knees, and the grass nearby reaches out, wrapping itself around her hands, brushing against her legs and sides in a vain attempt to comfort her. It hurts, and suddenly breathing isn't as easy as it was a few moments ago.

"The world? Everyone in it? How could it be nothing but scraps? Spare bits of earth tossed here and there, used as tools for whatever economy you have here." Evvy. Tris, Sandry, Daja. Briar. Lark. She'd give anything to have an argument with Crane right now. The list could stretch on and on, and each new name carrying a new crushing sense of loss until she went numb completely. Rosethorn pushes it all as far away as she can for the time being. One loss, two, that's the stuff of nightmares. This many is too much to even contemplate.

And then there's everything else. All the ancient pines, Briar's shakkan, her tomatoes. The mountains of Gyongxe, the Pebbled Sea, Winding Circle Temple. She is an Earth Dedicate, and the loss of the earth itself is one Rosethorn never even thought to fear. It was always simple fact that her world would outlive her. How could the reverse possibly be true?

She's crying. It's a rarity, and in front of a stranger no less, but Rosethorn barely notices the tears running down her face. Certainly not enough to brush them away or apologize for it.

Of course not. Duke slowly looks terribly uncomfortable as Rosethorn sinks to the ground. Its mostly for making someone cry, although the movement of plants gets a blink. That looks like something the knight talked to someone about.

Now would be a really bad time to mention statues and occasional fragments of familiar locations. Especially with tears. Duke really... really doesn't know how to deal with that, not with teens, definitely not with grownups.

"Everyone who isn't here." The knight awkwardly agrees, looking around again before settling before the woman in a crouch. There's a worn bit of cloth offered, sort of at chest level rather than nose level like the knight might have done for someone younger. Yeah, that might be a handkerchief of some sort.

"I'm going to take a huge guess here... but those plants are moving because of your magic? There's a boy in Bastion, has some arm tattoos, who mentioned something like that." Duke doesn't add 'if it helps', as it would be clear whether it was or wasn't without that being said.

Rosethorn fails to notice Duke's discomfort immediately. Grief has blocked out her usually excellent observational skills. She heaves one last shuddering sob as she reaches out to take the handkerchief with a nod of thanks rather than words, wiping quickly at her face.

Taking as deep a breath as she can manage, a silent count of seven comes close to sending her into tears again. She holds it, eyes closed, then exhales slowly.

She glances down at the plants when Duke says the word 'plants', nodding an affirmative and working her hands free of the loose tangle of grass without breaking any blades. Rosethorn thanks the grass silently, running her fingers through all of the plants that tried to come to her aid. Her gaze snaps back upward onto Duke immediately when she mentions a boy with tattoos, and Rosethorn hardly dares hope-- "Briar!? The tattoos, do they move? Do you know his name?"

Her boy might be safe.

It was a while ago, but something like that does stay in the mind. "The flowers changed colors, yes - yes, Briar Moss." The knight did remember mostly because plants and flowers that changed colors when he tapped them. They had been talking about medicine, although Duke had the feeling that the lack of mundane healing knowledge beyond basic field medicine had the boy thinking something was off.

"Here." The knight stands easily, offering one hand to help Rosethorn up. "Let's get to the Bastion, and then you can double check my memory isn't off."

Rosethorn lets out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. At least one part of her prayer upon arriving was answered. "Thank you," she says, to Mila of the Grain as much as to Duke. She owes both of them her gratitude now.

Taking the offered hand, Rosethorn stands and makes only the most cursory effort to brush dirt from the knees of her robes. "My magic reminded you of his because it's the same. I was his teacher. Your memory isn't off; I doubt anyone could mistake Briar for somebody else." He does tend to make an impression.

"Completely understandable. Changing color tattoos? That sticks, even with everyone else." There's the girl with the tail and blue fire, the giant dragon, the boy who turns into a dragon-thing... All of the odd sorts.

"So you work with medicines too?" That's what they talked about, okay. Duke isn't terribly interested in prying. "We have a hospital now, so more people who know medicine isn't as urgent as before, but... Five people, I think, who have medical knowledge prior to getting here, and I'm the one who had magical healing getting here." And one of those five is a chain smoker with a screw lodged in his head. More people who know medicine is always better.

Duke picks sword and wood up again, turning to look about once then start toward that light, the Bastion.

"He didn't originally mean them to move and grow, but they were done with vegetable dyes. It was unavoidable, for a plant mage." Provided said plant mage was silly enough to give himself tattoos, and with his stitch witch sister's needles no less, without consulting his teachers.

Rosethorn nods, latching onto the subject as a welcome distraction. At least if there's something useful to do, she can keep occupied. "I do. You're the only healer who can work through magic? And five others... to treat how many? What sorts of injuries or illnesses have you been seeing here so far?"

Noting the confirmation of her own initial sense of direction, she falls into step beside Duke.

"... Your magic works very differently from mine, I think." But oh well, it seems to have definitely helped in this case.

"There's another with a form of healing, but he focuses less on 'you have a bleeding arm, let me patch that up' and more on... ailments, I think." As for people, the knight taps fingers against the hilt of the sword, thinking. "We just found a bunch of survivors two days ago, so I might be off... Thirty one, not counting you? I think." And who knows how to treat a big dragon, but the dragon seemed like he could heal himself.

"Its mostly injuries thus far. The Bastion's never let us go actually hungry, so no problems that way, especially now that we have some farm animals. Injuries are a bit more varied - there are some nasty little birds that probably won't come this way, so beak and claw wounds from them. We found some nasty little plants that spit out needles in the bog, as well as something that made most of them hallucinate. There's more chance of blunt force trauma, from Squirts and Gasfellas, but... Scumbags shoot acid. Which both hurts, and has a habit of eating through the Skyway if enough splatters everywhere."

The corner of her mouth twitches slightly. Rosethorn has heard that often enough, but at least Duke sounds fairly open-minded about it, reacting with surprise rather than disbelief. "It's unusual even where we come from. There are two types of magic. Academic magic involves learning spells. What Briar and I have is ambient magic, which draws power from and works through things in the natural and everyday world."

Thirty one would be a horribly small number even from one country, let alone worlds. Rosethorn has no explanation to offer in place of the one Duke gave, but she wants one. Briar's waiting, Niva, she reminds herself. His presence doesn't erase everything else, but it's the most important thing by far right now. It's the only thing she can bring herself to focus on besides mundane practicalities. "At least the ratio of healers and patients isn't too bad then. You talk about the Bastion as a place, but then as if it's actively providing food. How does that work?"

There were a number of unfamiliar words, or more accurately, uses for familiar ones, but Duke mentioned monsters so the elaboration doesn't come as a surprise. Rosethorn is intrigued by the mention of plants, wondering whether she or Briar could talk them out of harming people or harness that destructive power to work against other creatures.

It comes with being here for over seventy days. Duke's gotten used to the idea that the laws of Terca Lumireis don't apply to all of the worlds, but the comment about learning magic does get a blink. "That - academic? - sounds more like mine. It can be learned, so long as someone wants to study, but the elements that someone is particularly good at vary for no known reason."

As for the Bastion itself - "It... is complicated. Nathaniel can explain it better - he's one of the people who is from this world, where they made the Bastion. The way I understand it is its a really big magical construct - collect Cores, which are giant shards, and it builds buildings, expands. Before your Briar showed up, none of us knew how to do anything with the field, but there was edible plants growing there enough for everyone to eat, at least."

"Yes, that sounds similar, though not everyone can learn our academic magic either. It is more common and more well known." And more rigid. Rosethorn has nothing against academic mages on principle as long as they aren't closed-minded, but her time at Lightsbridge was miserable in a lot of ways. She just wants to work with plants, and she felt like she was wilting in the cold stone walls and the classrooms with nothing but rote learning.

Rosethorn considers the explanation, making a short deductive leap to, "That's why shards are valuable, because they're fragments of the power source to maintain such a large magical construct."

"People with no mind for study usually claim they can't, but that results in some balance so..." The knight shrugs. Whatever works for people.

"More or less. The trading that I mentioned - that's also through the Bastion. I have no idea how it works, having not done it myself, but that's how Rin got a big outdoor bath put in."

"Some things are impossible, but believing they are is the best way to make it true." There are hints of another smile. Rosethorn's heard enough times that the way ambient mages do things just isn't how magic works.

Rosethorn nods thoughtfully. "And the people using shards don't need to know any magic of their own, just somehow provide specifications for what they want?" The amount of work, time, and detail that would have to go into a magical working so complex it's practically sentient are enormous, and she's at least mildly curious as to how it was managed.

Not as curious as she will be once she's seen with her own eyes that someone she cares for is here and safe, of course, when she has a little more attention and energy to spare. Right now her head is full of Briar and of the places and people she's trying not to think about at all.

"Of course something has to be. Magic isn't miracles." There are somethings that definitely can't be done. Regrowing limbs is one that comes to mind-

"I haven't tried. I think that's it, but I can get back to you after I get an idea of what would be best." There was some fancy plotting ideas for targets buzzing around between her and an archer. "Again, Nathaniel knows most about it."

The beacon of light is much closer now, and so the knight turns and grins at Rosethorn a little. "This is the way to the Bastion. I suppose it might be a little like flying, as it just sort of... sends you there. Ladies first?"

"I'm a green mage. I prefer to keep my feet on the ground given a choice in the matter." Rosethorn fails to return that grin, instead trying not to scowl. It isn't as if she has roots of the same sort her plants do, and she did ask for travel and new experience, at least until she got to Yanjing. Now she just wants home and Lark and her boy and the girls.

She would never mention the added concern. Rosethorn has no idea just how high the flight will take her. It's hard enough to breathe up high without taking movement and rushing air into account. If it takes something like flying to get to Briar, though, then so be it.

She does note the 'ladies first.' Sighing, Rosethorn summons up a grateful smile without too much effort. "Of course it would be better to send me first, since I'm not the one who knows what I'm doing here. Thank you for the help you've offered."

".... I can see why that would make sense." Almost all the.. inanimate plant life the knight was familiar with had roots. Some of the plant monsters home did, if the knight wasn't terribly mistaken, but only at, say, night time, when they weren't... acting like monsters.

"No problem. This isn't my world, but I was a captain of a guard. Mage or not, this place.. is a shock. Even if I seem to be terrible about.. not shocking people with it." Duke's grin turned a bit wry there. "I'll follow, but I am planning on heading back out to the Skyway unless you really want a tour."

"I don't think there's a way to make a," she notices the slowness of her words, a slight slur, becoming more pronounced for just a moment as she searches for a way to say it without losing control again, "loss of that magnitude anything but shocking."

"I--" was? No. Vows hold even if the earth beneath her feet is different. As long as there are green things, she can still serve Mila and the Green Man and hold to Living Circle principles. "am temple dedicate. Both come with a certain amount of helping others."

Rosethorn shakes her head to decline the other offer. "Especially now that you've told me Briar's here, I can manage without the tour. I'll find him with no trouble if he's near any plants. Briar's almost always near plants."

"... Good point." There's a second of a worried look when Duke notices the sound of her speech, but that doesn't come up again. Rosethorn has a handle on whatever the problem is, so there won't be any prying.

The knight can't really do more than give an agreeing hum as they step closer to that beam of light. Temple is something only vaguely familiar, and most of that was due to the memorial building here.

"A guess would have you needing to go right upon landing." But the knight is ready to leave her to people she knows, as awkward as that may sound. Off for wanting to not be around a survivor any longer than needed, but probably okay in that someone familiar is preferable to a weird stranger.

Rosethorn notices and determinedly ignores the concerned look, lips tightening grimly. There's no point snapping that she's perfectly alright, thanks ever so. Giving her hope for Briar's safety and helping her get to him has earned at least temporary immunity from Rosethorn's sharp tongue.

She's perfectly happy to be left on her own as soon as she can sense her boy. Duke was in the middle of something, however graciously the interruption was taken. She'd just as soon find Briar without an audience anyway. Rosethorn nods at the advice. "I'll keep it in mind if necessary," she assures Duke as she steps forward.

If anything, the knight is probably wondering if they had walked a bit fast.

Regardless, the light deposits them both on a large plain like location, although there is some variety to it. A few buildings, a river off behind one and splitting a section of the area off.

And to the right definitely looked like a farm.

Duke gives Rosethorn a short wave-like salute, stepping off toward the river with the collection of wood.

The sensation is a disorienting one, suddenly landing in an entirely new place, and it takes a second to get her bearings. As Duke leaves, Rosethorn nods in both thanks and farewell.

Then she turns her gaze and her attention immediately to the farm. It does seem like the right place to start when seeking a green mage. Rosethorn sinks her magic into the plants nearest her without hesitation, sending it through them and then further afield to search Briar. She focuses on the farm to begin with, but her power fans outward in other directions just to be sure.

She's known the feeling of Briar's magic by heart for years now; Rosethorn doesn't need to see him to find where he is.

He was weeding when he felt her magic, but then, when isn't he weeding here? He knew better than to just stop what he was doing from excitement - that'd be terrible for the plants - so he makes sure to send out a wave of calm as he disentangles his hands from the roots. He can come back to weeding later; it's not like the job is ever done. Rosethorn is more important.

He thought, what with how this place was explained and all, that she was gone. That he'd never see her ever again, but he wouldn't mistake that magic for anything. He couldn't. Not after bringing her back and being her student for four years.

Rosethorn! Coppercurls, she's... The rest of that thought to Tris isn't in words, just feelings. She's here.

And then he's running, following the power that he's known for so long.

Through the power stretching between them, she manages a silent, Briar! that's more a rush of love and relief than it is an actual name. Rosethorn can tell when Briar takes off running, and she might not be as quick, but she's doing her best to close the distance between them too.

She knew it had to be Briar; who else could her rescuer of sorts possibly have been talking about? It didn't feel real though, not until her magic touched his. A part of her was braced for disaster and disappointment. Her own eyes or her own power were the only things she'd willingly trust with something so important.

It's her, it's really her...From what he can tell from this distance, now that he can see her, she doesn't look the same. Doesn't matter. Tris is four years older, but she's here.

Rosethorn is here. He can see it, his magic can feel hers, the plants are turning...It's like he can actually rest now.

"Rosethorn!" He didn't really need to shout it, but...he wanted to hear her voice. It's been a while.

His voice is different, and Briar is a little shorter than he ought to be, but it doesn't matter a bit. Even if Rosethorn has no idea of how strangely time works, she couldn't possibly mistake anyone else for Briar.

Speech out loud may be unnecessary, but she drinks it in thirstily, further evidence that Briar's here and whole. "I'm glad you're safe, boy," she calls back.

Neither of them is prone to outright displays of affection. Rosethorn never trusted people's words completely, not after her own family's love rang hollow. The trappings aren't important to her. What she has with Lark and their foster kids is real enough that words and physical affection are hardly needed. Briar knows how important he is to her, and she knows he reciprocates it. That's enough.

Most days it is. Today, she'll wrap her arms around her boy the second she's close enough to manage it.

She still has that same slight slur to her speech. That, combined with her magic, is enough for him to hug her tightly. It's really her; it has to be.

He isn't all that fond of this mushy stuff, but it's Rosethorn. He ain't moss soft, but he isn't exactly a prickly briar when it has to do with her. Least ways, if she's okay. He can always deny it later, if anyone accuses him of being soft.

For now, he'll just hug her tight. "I missed you," he mutters. It might've only been a couple minutes for her, since time here is strange, but it's been days for him. Days where everyone told him she was dead.

"Sorry I kept you waiting, Briar." His name slips out, not the usual gruff 'boy,' without Rosethorn even realizing. She tightens her grasp on him, then pulls back, putting her hands on his shoulders as she studies Briar's face.

Rosethorn had only a few short minutes of mourning before being told Briar was safe. He didn't have that assurance. Briar has been here for who knows how long thinking he lost her. Her fingertips dig in a little more than she means them to as she checks him over, making sure he really is alright. She almost doesn't want to lose that contact, the tactile confirmation that Briar survived.

When she finally lets go, Rosethorn leaves a tendril of magic connecting them, hooking her power onto the edge of his. It's unnecessary, practically speaking, but the feel of familiar magic is a constant inpouring of relief. She can't quite bring herself to give it up just yet. And if he's been here on his own, Briar may appreciate the connection as much as she does.

"How long?"

"It ain't your fault..." But that magic connection is welcome all the same. It reassures him that this is real. If this was a dream...he doesn't even want to consider the thought. If it was a dream, it was one he wouldn't really mind not waking up from.

He has to think for a moment, tallying quickly while running a hand through his hair. "More than a month. Coppercurls took a bit to get the cloud cover nights going on so I don't know exactly how many days." He pauses, thinking again.

"Speaking of Tris..." He tilts his head, looking at Rosethorn. "Are you hungry?" That's probably where Tris is, and she'll be almost as happy to see Rosethorn as he is.

Rosethorn inhales sharply at the mention of another of her foster children. "Tris! Tris is here!? She's safe?"

Because if their world was destroyed, she thought she lost everyone. Lark, and her girls. All of her friends, and all the plants. The earth and her home. Briar was the one bit of hope she had to cling to, and suddenly he's granted her another. The question about food she ignores for the moment.

Rosethorn would eat, or not eat, just about anything right now so long as she gets to see Tris while she does.

"Yeah, she's uh...Not the same as the last time I saw her before here, but she's here and safe." That reaction is all he really needs to gently put a hand on her arm, preparing to steer her toward the kitchen.

"C'mon Rosethorn. She'll be real happy to see you, and you should eat something." He doesn't care if she just ate. She still needs to eat something in front of him so he can make sure. Make sure of what doesn't really matter.

"What do you mean, not the same?" Briar knows her well enough to forgive the sharp tone. "What happened?"

Rosethorn lets him lead her. She won't object to any destination as long as at least some of her kids are there. ...Briar even has her thinking 'kids' now. Word choice is contagious.

"I can decide when to eat well enough on my own," she remarks dryly, but she's still going along with his plan. She can feel the beginnings of hunger in her stomach, and even if she couldn't, Rosethorn has more reason than ever to oblige her boy right now. Tris too, since she's presumably doing the cooking.

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Day 124: Whispering Grass

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..... OOPS. THOSE 31-ISH PEOPLE ARE THE NUMBER OF SURVIVORS / PLAYER CHARACTERS - idk how many npcs

I saw nothing wrong. These are not the droids I am looking for. Your jedi mind tricks work just fine

|D Also I want to say its getting close to "evening" just so that rosethorn comes in after cookies

I figured you might, fine by me.

|D

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I don't have an appropriate icon for this

It's okay, I don't either.

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...I THOUGHT I TAGGED THIS AGES AGO.

hahaha I've been really slow lately so it's okay

Well, I've moved to another country since our last round, so I am not exactly Sonic the Hedgehog.