Open | November Catch-all & Dream

[pactmarshal]

Who: Trahearne and you!
Which: Open log
Where: Out and about in town all throughout the month, mostly the archives
What: Catch-all for the month! Dreamboard quests in Reverein and reliving the earlier years of his life in a dream
Warnings: The disfigured undead (zombies), ghost peppers, others to be added if they come up

> REVEREIN | LIVE LIFE WELL AND FULLY, AND WASTE NOTHING.

❋ harvest.
[ As much of a bookworm Trahearne is, he does understand that he needs to go outside every once in a while. And what better way to be outside than to make himself useful at the same time?

And so, the sylvari decides to help out with the harvest one sunny afternoon, burying himself among the thick leaves of the ripened harvest to really get in there and get all the goodies out. Nothing like some hard physical work to refresh the mind, right?

Unfortunately, however, the natural colors of his "clothes" and skin blend in quite handily with the rest of the foliage, especially at this time of year. When he feels a firm grab on the leaves that make up his skirt, he shoots upright and whirls around to look at you, bewilderment written all over his face. ]

--Oh! That's--that's me.

❋ photographs.
What a curious contraption.

[ Trahearne will not say no to something novel and interesting. After being handed the dreamotion camera, he turns it over in his hands, studying it. Questions about how it could have been created, how it works roll around in his mind, but he quickly scolds himself--what point is a test if he doesn't actually experiment with it?

He turns to the person nearest himself--that's you--and holds it up with a smile. ]

Let me take a picture of you.

❋ archives.
[ As the one who runs the archives, Trahearne is there all the time. Every day. By the time the sun rises and long after it sets. He rarely takes full days off; it's rare to find him elsewhere. Sometimes, he even brings his cat with him.

And so, if you have any sort of business at the archives, he's there, ready to help. He knows every book on every shelf, and at a healthy six-foot-two he can reach the top shelves. He's happy to tutor anyone who needs assistance putting together an entry. He's happy to talk about work, either in this life or the last. He's just happy to be here, to be honest. ]

❋ wildcard.
[ Feel free to make something else up, or find me on the discord or at unkie for a personalized starter! ]

> DREAM | THE SCHOLAR DREAMT OF A LAND RECLAIMED FROM THE DRAGON'S TOUCH.
[ In his Dream before life, Trahearne saw the dead Kingdom of Orr, a land that had been dragged out of the sea by the undead dragon Zhaitan, green and growing again. Upon awakening, he knew this was his life's mission: to purify Zhaitan's corruption and bring life back to Orr. His goal is impossible. Laughable, even. Yet the call of a Wyld Hunt is irresistible, so as much as he hates it, he spends weeks, months in the dead land alone, scrambling for any lead that might bring him closer to his goal.

He will eventually cleanse this land. He will eventually lead the forces that will fell Zhaitan, but not in this dream. Right now, that is many, many years away.

The land is devoid of life, cramped by unnaturally-shaped terrain, ruins of buildings that are mere shadows of their former grandeur. Oversized barnacles and dead coral from centuries under the ocean cling to the crumbling structures, towering over the soggy ground like otherworldly trees. Unnatrual shrieks occasionally pierce the silence, perhaps seabirds that strayed too close to the corruption. It stinks of brine, of rot and decay. The clouds above take on a sickly green hue, a reflection of the putrescence that permeates the land below. And dotting the landscape, all around, are graying, decaying corpses shambling about, looking for victims to which to spread their corruption.

This is Trahearne's life. ]

❋ research.
[ Orr sat at the bottom of the ocean for nearly two centuries--any original writing that may have existed on the island decayed or was destroyed a long, long time ago. It is exceedingly rare to find any in-tact inscriptions, much less legible ones.

So when Trahearne clambers this tower and finds what looks to be a massive stone tablet partially buried in rubble and debris, he can hardly contain his excitement. The first line peeks out from the dirt--"Darkness pays Orr a visit." Is it a poem? Epitaph? A warning of sorts? He has to know.

Except the tablet is nearly twice his size, almost five times his weight, and the rubble that obscures the rest of the inscription is cumbersome--it might even be supporting the rest of the structure at this point. Regardless, he's going to try and pull it free, whether it's a wise idea or not. ]

❋ cornered.
[ Despite how careful he tries to be, Trahearne isn't perfect, and the Risen are very good at popping up where he doesn't want them to be. He's ventured into one ruined structure, keen to map it out and determine what possible use it must have served, but the problem with grand buildings of this scale having been hidden underwater for centuries means the inside is essentially a subterranean maze, interrupted in places by tunnels filled with putrid water and rotting plant matter.

Trahearne should know better than this, and curiosity is coming dangerously close to killing the sylvari. He stands with his back against the wall in this little pocket of air, the only passages in or out are filled with water. Risen stagger out from the water, clawing at the ground to try and tear Trahearne apart. ]

S-stay back! [ He brandishes his scepter, though he knows it isn't much of a threat. His own necromantic minions stand before him to guard him. ] You will rue the day you crossed my path!

[ Despite what he says, the fear is evident in his eyes. The Risen are everywhere, and there are so many of them. If only he weren't alone... ]

❋ respite.
[ Nighttime in Orr is dark. With no real settlements for miles in any direction, the veil of night that falls over the island is thick, impermeable. The only dot of light is the small fire Trahearne has going--he's perched himself atop a crumbling stone structure, just large enough for two people to sit side by side. Not that anyone will come to join him, of course. He's alone in Orr, as he has always been, and he sits with his knees to his chest, as though trying to shrink himself from the Risen's view.

There is a little pot bubbling over the fire. Cooking inside are asparagus, truffles, and ghost peppers--what he always eats. It's all that really grows around here. The oysters and fish are nowhere near safe enough to be consumed.

Absently, Trahearne reaches into his pack and takes a bite out of one of his ghost peppers. He doesn't even flinch. ]

Comments

[pactmarshal]

[ Her reaction is not what Trahearne is expecting. At first he wonders if she doesn't want to carry around the reminder that her friend is dead, or if she doesn't like the way the photo turned out. He doesn't mind taking another one if that's the case.

But when the real reason comes, his expression eases. He smiles. ]

I-- [ do, is what he is about to say. But he finds that strange and out of place. So he stops himself, chuckles briefly, and tucks it under his thumb with the other. ]

Very well. Thank you, Beatrix--I will treasure this photo.

[ Along with the other one. They are both important to him.

He nods to the path ahead of them again. They still have to return the camera. ]

Let's go.

[roseofmay]

[She shouldn't be surprised, but it's nice that he doesn't pry. There's no fingertips digging under her armour attempting to chip it right off. It's one of her favourite things about him. If he ever inquires, it does it so gently that with time, patience, and circumstance, eventually she's fine with divulging a modest amount of information.

Beatrix looks appreciative and perhaps a bit touched.

Treasure it, hm? What a nice thought that is. To be treasured in the way that she has grown to treasure those around her.]

Of course.
I think they will be pleased to hear that their camera is a success.

[...Potentially a chance of success depending on what the their original intention was.]

[pactmarshal]

[ There's no need to force another to divulge information they do not wish to share, least of all a friend. Otherwise, what's the point? Trahearne genuinely cares for Beatrix, and is perfectly content to wait for her to share information about herself when she feels ready. He'll always listen.

As they make their way back, his eyes travel from the camera, the photos, Beatrix, and to the inventor's growing figure in the distance. ]

I think so, too. They even have multiples from the same subject. [ That's valuable information! He smiles at her. ] I look forward to the day I can have a camera of my own.

[ So that he can remember all of them, even after they all inevitably wake up and leave. ]

[roseofmay]

[She can easily envision a camera-happy Trahearne. Given what she knows about him, it makes all the more sense. Paintings are a memory in the flesh, something physical to touch. If he should ever lose them, when he should ever lose them, then he can at least have the photos. It isn’t very hard for her to piece that together.

She watches him for several moments and eventually offers a subdued smile, gentle and yet warm in its own right. As warm as a woman like her can be, that is.]

If they deem it a success, then it is very possible they will be manufacturing them in abundance for those who want them. They would not, after all, want to produce something that did not work appropriately, after all.

[pactmarshal]

Which makes our contribution all the more valuable.

[ Two different samples, with two different results! Even if it didn't work perfectly, he can still easily see himself documenting everything he sees. Things change, and to have a visual record with minimal effort would be invaluable.

When Beatrix smiles, so does he. ]

I know you were hesitant at first. But that makes me all the more appreciative, Beatrix.

[ That, and for listening to him. The knowledge of his circumstances is not easy to bear. ]

Thank you.

[roseofmay]

[Her only real apprehension was the idea of having pictures of herself taken. That does not impede his feelings or what he wants to pursue. Regardless of her feelings, wherever they may fall, she knows she genuinely wants him to chase the things that breathe life into him.

Watching him for some moments, she shakes her head, as if she means to politely shrug off the gratitude. She doesn't need it. Didn't ask for it. That's just what friends do for one another.]

Please. You are going to embarrass me. I was only doing what you would have for me if our roles were reversed. I trust when I am in need— [Again.] —that you will offer your assistance.

wrap soon? c:

[pactmarshal]

[ Trahearne knows he can be a bit much sometimes with his sentiments, so he smiles sheepishly when she shakes her head. He almost wants to apologize, but he knows that would only earn him yet another shake of the head. So he glosses over it. ]

That goes without question. You need only say the word, and I'll be there.

[ He cares for Beatrix--and all the others who went through the harrowing ordeal with noctaere Eustace--deeply, and he would not think about dropping whatever he is doing to help twice.

He appreciates all the companionship they've given him, and he must do what he can to return the favor. ]

Don't let me keep you any longer. [ He nods to the book of poetry. ] I know you have a book to deliver.

🎀!!

[roseofmay]

["You need only say the word, and I'll be there."

Beatrix wonders why it hurts so much to hear something like that. It is both heartwarming and worthy of ache in the same breath. For several moments as she eyes him, she wonders how much of that shines through her, in the subtle shifts of her expression, despite the way she has, so often, remained so very even.

In the end, she realises she will have to remind herself that it is okay to lean on him when she needs to. Even if she feels that she can't.]

It was hardly keeping. [She reassures him quietly.] Next time, I will spend more time with you. I believe I could use that in many ways. Do let me know when you get your camera. If you get one. I would like to come with when you are taking pictures.

[In a plethora of habits that she has yet to break, she offers him a gentle bow at the waist with her departure.]