"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING OF MOVING ON
They’ve been surviving. Voices drift with the wind across the island and soothe Tiphon’s heart each time he stands in the midst of it. His objective of a refuge is succeeding thus far, but his curiosity is heightening; his want to help is rising in his gut. With so many faces scattered throughout the palm trees he has lost track of everyone. Those plagued with sickness are his primary concern.
His voice is symphonic - too pure in a land so infested with cruelty and illness – like the strings of Apollo’s lyre. It rings loudly across the island, twirling around the trees and dancing with the tide. It lures them to the source, to Tiphon standing near the shallows adjacent to the patch of mountains. Water gurgles around his legs as he gingerly walks through the gentle current until reaching the inner island. Surrounding him is the sound of gulls overhead and the stream surrounding him. Occasionally, a cool autumn breeze dances with the trees and tousles Tiphon’s molten locks. He smiles, an expression that softens his face as he observes the area. He has memorized much of the island, locking away the information into his memory
As they begin congregating, one by one, Tiphon regards each of them with a pleasant nod. His gaze drinks in the sight of each, thirsty to know them all. Some show symptoms of disease while others are seemingly healthy with glossy coats and bright faces.
He takes careful note of this.
But his attention flinches upon seeing Wallace. Something inside him quivers excitedly – nervously even – but he composes himself quickly and begins addressing the group as a whole. ”As most of you know, I’m Tiphon.” He has overheard a few of them confirm he is the leader of this island, his name spoken with respect rather than disgust, something that soothes his anxiety of the matter. ”I’m just wanting to get a headcount of everyone. I want to know who, if any, are sick. While I cannot heal anyone entirely, I can at least ease away the symptoms.” He has been leaking his own magic through his body when it showed signs of the plague. To them, he looks healthy enough, but inwardly he continues to suffer. ”My goal right now is to remain a refuge. Ideally, I would like to focus on surviving this plague together before trying to organize everyone unless you would prefer more structure? I’m not facing all of this alone – I need help.” Wallace, Leliana, and Cress come to mind briefly. The two healers have seemingly abandoned the island, but it doesn’t drain him of hope.
Wallace, however, is a light for him in this troubled time. Although without healing, she at least provides a backbone. Declaring that, however, would root her to him and to the island. She mentioned wanting Ischia again, that his island isn’t truly their home, and so he falls into silence, waiting for their opinions to arise and break the quiet.
like a house on fire we're up in flames; i'd burn here if that's what it takes
She has not been nearly as present as she promised she would be, and for that she is quite a bit ashamed. Throwing all she had into Leliana and Rhonen—and for their efforts to be futile in the end—had left her exhausted and infected with a seemingly endless plague. Tiphon’s angelic healing had helped for a while, temporarily chasing the aches from her bones and letting her continue on as normal, but then Heartfire had appeared on their beaches and she had once again poured all of her energy (and then some) into trying to save the pregnant woman. Djinni—though she had never learned the genie’s name—had attempted to heal all of them then, and after that things get a little blurry.
The golden dragoness has spent weeks simply trying to recover and feel normal, and though the plague has been cleansed from her lungs, her veins, her muscles, her bones… the sense of normalcy has yet to return. She knows that it is in part from being separated from her sweet Dawn, though she had encouraged the girl to leave her side and chase adventure. She knows that the carefree, happy girl will make the most of her life, and she can't cling to her child forever. She is the last piece she has of Ledger, but Ledger abandoned her. Abandoned them.
Cress shakes her head to clear her thoughts, and just as she closes her eyes to take a short nap, Tiphon’s call echoes over the land. She is near to the mountains, so it only takes her a short time to wing her way over to the assembling crowd. The Resort has almost become crowded in the past few months, and it makes her happy that so many are using the place as a refuge.
She is glad to see that they have all accepted him as their leader—he has the glow of gentle power, a good leader for the island. She folds her wings to her sides and weaves her way through the crowd to him, smiling softly as she glances to all that have come.
“Tiphon, it is good to see you,” she says, respectfully dipping her head to him. “I have been cured of the plague, it seems. Several weeks of rest have me feeling almost back to normal.” She turns to the assembled group and addresses them, voice booming to the back of the group. “I, too, am a healer and will offer my abilities to those who need to ease their symptoms. I will do everything in my power to support Tiphon, this territory, and all of the horses who are now calling it home.”
Zynnie stayed close to her family, clinging to her father's golden side with soft touches to his shoulder. It had been hard to leave his side for any moment after finally finding him again throught the frightening plague, and she'd made sure Zoe was near her also.
She wasn't sure how she felt about her baby brother just yet, everything so sudden and new and different. He almost seemed to belong more to Momma's and Dad's friend, the horrific man of black and bone and blood. Baby Defy matched him so, her Momma's newest baby. He had been so sudden too, like the plague. Nobody had expected him, so shrunken small and nearly invisible in Mom's belly.
But they were here to listen to the leader of this place. Daddy had brought them here to this island, joining the monster man and making this their new home where they could be safe.
She nuzzled the bridge of her nose into Zoe's cheek, breathing her in and staying quiet as the adults spoke. Barely a young teenager, she had no notion of what they spoke of, nor any desire to learn. She only wished for her family to be at her side, safe and whole.
If only Daddy wasn't sick anymore.
living on the island with @[Zoryn], Disastardly, Dizorien, Defy
He was watchful and quiet, solemn. His dusty blue eyes were hollow, not bright as they once were. Not joyous. Not content. He was only darkness and solitude. Empty.
When they joined, he was at his mother's side. Or well, his older sister that he'd been raised by, feeling and believing that she was his mother. Although, his true mother and father were here on the island somewhere too, perhaps. And an aunt, cousins. Maybe an uncle? Or brother? Multiple brothers? Not an aunt, but a sister?
He was pretty isolated, so he wasn't really sure of much, only that he was here with Luster and her two newborn children.
Sometimes he had caught glimpses of a bright little blue girl with wings, but he stayed away. From everyone. Everyone except for his new siblings, he supposed. Dark was a sweet girl. Dustov was a wild handful. He did what he could to help, even if he didn't have much to offer, or anything to say. Mom tried to make him smile, and he often pulled one to his lips for her, then let it fade away. Took too much effort to hold and why should he.
He was only here for them.
[ Cimmerian ]
try to make a fire burn again
another useless one, sorry D;
he's here with um... i have no idea. at the very least: luster, dark, dustov, brightly. maybe ether? and others?
baby, when I'm in your arms, I can make honest sense of love and war's alarms
She has not done everything she could.
Not done everything he needed.
She has been busy, answering the call of the fae, spending time with her family in the Pampas, and coming here when she could get away—but it still doesn’t feel like enough and her heart aches with it. Still, she is here today, and she is able to hear when his voice rises, something pure and beautiful. It brings a smile to her elegant features, a softness to her eyes as she lifts her head, turning it toward the source.
Leliana wastes no time in unfurling her wings and lifting herself to the skies, skimming over the island to where he stands, others having already gathered. She lands gracefully, easily, her feathers turning to the same gold as his own as she studies him. The wind shifts the crimson of her mane, revealing the slender neck and the dapples that coat it. She walks up amongst the crowd, taking her place next to Cress and reaches over to press her nose into the fellow healer’s neck, letting it linger before pulling back.
She listens quietly as Tiphon speaks, her gaze moving quietly to the others who surround them and realizing that she is surrounded by Dovev’s family, all of his children. Her heart twists painfully, and she clears her throat, trying to gain her composure before she finds Tiphon’s gaze. “I can’t live here full time. My family, my children, are in the Pampas with their father. He’s the Champion of Loess.”
She has never been particularly politically driven, never cared for such things, but she recognizes his responsibilities and the burden he carries. She would never dream of asking him to forsake it for her own. But that doesn’t mean she ignores them either. “But I will do my best to visit her as often as I can and offer you whatever support I can.” She gestures to Cress. “I, too, was healed. I cannot take the plague from anyone completely, but I can assist in easing the worst of it—in helping them feel better.”
Her head dips slightly.
“I believe in what you’re doing here, Tiphon. I want to help.”
but there's something primal underneath and it drives this nothingness I seek
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING OF MOVING ON
A few arrive, but Tiphon isn’t at all disappointed. There are many others, he realizes, that have not yet shown. They will, he reassures himself as his molten gaze sweeps across their faces collectively. Quite a few are silent, standing here only in accordance to his call and to ensure their stance as the island being their home. Some may only be temporary while others more permanent; naturally, he prefers the latter. All he wants is a sense of family and protection here.
Cress arrives first and Tiphon smiles in response. To have her here again, offering her aid and loyalty, lifts his heart to new heights. ”Thank you,” he replies coolly, shuffling his wings to suppress his inner joy, ”and I’m thrilled to hear you’re doing better.” If no one else, he’s happy to at least have someone to help him with this mission and to offer protection to this small island. He isn’t alone. He isn’t a straggling fool.
The others arrive with their families, but it still isn’t everyone. There are voices still on the wind that dance into his ears from the distance. They haven’t yet arrived, but they will, he hopes. They’re needed; all of them are. Their opinions, their views – all of it is needed. He wants – needs – their help for this island to thrive and come to life. With a thrumming hopefulness, Tiphon shuffles his wings and nearly addresses them again until Leliana steps forward. Her face, along with Cress’, is a most welcomed thing. His brows lift in surprise but then his expression softens. A family. The word resonates through him and a pang of guilt hits him like a brick wall. ”Of course, Leliana,” because he would never, intentionally, rip her from the family and happiness she has forged. ”Don’t stress yourself too much. Your family needs you first and foremost.” They would survive here during her absences. Even with two healers to balm the symptoms, it could mean comfort across the herd. Three? Even better, but realizing she has a family, Tiphon wouldn’t keep her here.
”And, of course, there have been outsiders coming to our shore already trying to discuss politics…” he trails off because he doesn’t even quite know what direction to head on the topic. Kerberos made his opinion clear toward one foreigner. What of the others? Where the island is heading, he cannot help to wonder, but also, too, he wants them healed before focusing on outside affairs.
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