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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Melancholy writes to Bryn Baird about her doings from her Saturday excursions, with news about her obtained permissions, and various personal doings. World and Personal Plot. |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
Chain: Melyn
Dear Bryn,
I can't possibly hold in the news for longer than a sentence, so the news then: Captain Fallon says that I may have a day or two of leave every two weeks to spend with you. My thought is that Saturday afternoon to Sunday early evening, perhaps? It will be ashore, but we can also have dinner with him on Saturday (that's when I ordinarily talk about what Admiral Taylor has sent us to do, and I know he would love to have your company). We could start this Saturday, unless you think another day would be better or you would prefer to wait another week. I'm so excited that I can hardly stand for the rest of the week to go by.
I wish I could see you working out on the ships. I think though that I could probably watch you do anything and find it suddenly fascinating even if I had never had an interest in it before, because I could see it entirely anew through you, imbued with new meaning. I would also be watching your hands and back and in my mind you would always be shirtless.
It will be so exciting seeing a ship out on the sea with the fleet and knowing that you know it completely, a whole story that you were there at the conception of, and to see what she will become. Captain Fallon says her name will be Horizon, and I think it’s a beautiful name for a ship.
I recognized the names of the W.E.B. people you met (oh, yes, it's Paluuva, I double checked), and of course I knew of Captain Sparkwire (I saw her once from afar; she has such fantastic hair buns). I didn't know that you knew Captain Tyrrell! I've never met him personally, but I've heard so many things about him, and yet somehow I feel like I hardly have any idea what kind of person he is for all of the facts I’ve collected. He's Celaven's commander here, and I just found out the other day that he used to be a mage (I had no idea!) before he was a warlock (Destruction, like Mr. Carlay).
I could ask Miserie if she knows anything about someone named Tanith if you thought it might be good to know for her own sake, but I don't know the name at all, so it's never come up in passing before. I hope she's able to find work and something interesting in Stormwind, and I'm sure she's better for having met you, especially now when it sounds like she needs someone who will listen the way you do, and be rationally empathetic the way you are. I'm glad she'll also maybe help you feel more confident with schooling in return, and if nothing else, I'm sure you'll enjoy learning a new system, even if you use something else in the end.
This also seems like a good week for me to try to meet up with Aszera for some spirit knowledge enhancement. I hope I’m wrong, but it seems likely that I will want to know a good variety of pairings of alcohol for different moods and situations as well as foods.
Speaking of friendships, I've talked with Captain Fallon about maybe befriending Kyris (since the Captain has known him for a while already, and said that he liked Kyris already). He seems like he’s willing to take on the challenge, and for now, that’s as best as I can do.
I've also been speaking with Celaven. We ran into each other at the training yard (I was trying to see how well I might cast without any focusing weapon at all, and it's dismal compared to what I can do with it). He's genuinely haunted, and I really do mean that in the literal he-has-ghost-attached-to-him way, the spirit of his father. It's a terribly sad story, though apparently not one that is wholly unknown among those who were part of the war with the Fire Druids at Mt. Hyjal. His father turned to Deathwing in the end, and followed Staghelm to their doom, and now there is something that keeps his spirit here, something about his legacy. I suggested maybe it means something that he wanted, before the madness, and that his soul will find peace if he knows that the good work will be carried out. I hope that it is something like that, and not something terrible. Both Celaven and his father's soul deserve peace. All the dead deserve peace.
Maybe even the mogu, although it's hard to muster even the smallest amount of sympathy for them personally. At that point, it really is just on principle that I don't think anyone should suffer for an eternity when there's nothing more for them to grow and become, when the soul is fixed in death.
That is the other big news: we found the D.B., in time before it was known by the Horde. It was just like in the vision, and the whole place had such a malevolence to it. Even though I think the spirit caller mogu guarding the D.B. was probably a horrible person who did truly horrific things, and I would have killed him myself if we had met in life, there was still something necessary about ending his shade’s cruel attachment to this world, bound by the evil chains of the spirit vortex on the place that he probably placed there himself. All the mogu spirits that we could find were similarly freed, as best as we can do it.
There were so many statues and traps! At one point I wanted to try to make a demonic gateway to get us all through, but I couldn't even see a clear space from all the rising tomb dust in the air. I've been warned extensively to never try to open a gateway somewhere I cannot see. So, instead, I shielded myself as best I could and I just ran, trying to remember everything about all the times you kept me safe from the traps and the timing of them. I didn't get hurt at all (I also didn’t even come close to beating Shine to the metaphorical finish line – he is so fleetfooted!). And one way or another, everyone else made it, too.
In the end, we were completely successful, and they're taking the D.B. away from all this. I just have this lingering, dreadful fear that it will end up like the mogu artifacts and Zhi the Harmonious. I keep seeing the Tomb there, with all the bodies of the pandaren who fought so hard to keep everyone safe by guarding the artifacts, and Zhi lost in the center where they had been kept, like he knew he would give his life before he would let the mogu take them. I hate to think of it happening again, of knowing the faces and names of the people who die trying to guard something that I helped them get. Captain Fallon says I can't hold myself to it, and I'm trying not to. I know I can't be there, that I wouldn't make a good guard at all, and I can't stop every bad thing that might happen to something I'm involved with in a war. But I still see those pandaren lifeless on the floor, and I wonder if I will know the next ones, too.
But I do have to focus on what I can do, and that’s sometimes going to be only the next thing, not the one in the past, right?
I have lots of things to look forward to doing as well. This week I have learned the signs: DIVINE, FUTURE, NEED, and BRIGHT.
I also decided on the tattoo I am going to get. It’s the first one, with the light and dark, and the birds. I had already been mostly decided, for the same reasons, but I wanted to see if you had an opinion of something different to think about, but it turns out we’re of the same mind, so it must be the right one. I’m going to wait until you’re here to start it, though. I’d like for you to be there. I understand that it’s going to be painful (I decided on the back of my hand and wrist for it, I like the idea of seeing it more often, and I think it’s important for that phrase, to know something like the back of my hand, to have something there that I chose to know), and that you won’t like to see me in pain, so I know I’m asking for a little more than usual. But, I also know that every time, whenever something might hurt or be the worst day, I will always choose to have you there; just as every time, whenever something might be wonderful or be the best day, I will always choose to have you there.
That’s the most important thing to know, that it’s always you. Even when it comes to certain thoughts, what I long to read isn't poetry itself or dock talk per se, but what I am most eager for: Bryn Talk. Bryn Poetry.
Poetry is filled with the eroticism of the blood and flesh. Oscar Wilde speaking of chestnut blossoms because they carry a scent like a man's come just before he speaks of the desire felt and boyish limbs gleaming in the water; Walt Whitman’s description of the woman’s love-flesh swelling and deliciously aching, Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love, white-blow and delirious juice; Christina Rossetti’s vivid imagery of how Laura suck’d their fruit globes fair or red: sweeter than honey from the rock, stronger than man-rejoicing wine.
I’ve read them, these poems from the great poets that speak of the pleasure a person can feel with another, but nothing has ever stirred my passion the way a single thought of yours expressed has. Those images you spoke of months ago – my hair spread out, my eyes looking up at you, my thighs wet for you, my legs wrapped around, my sweet mouth on you – I saw them all so clearly, transformed into pure poetry for seeing myself through your eyes, to know myself outside my own body. I have never felt so desired. And like a crane answering the call of another, when I hear what it is that you crave, I find myself wanting to do and be that, to have your imagination become reality.
And always, always I think of how I long for that state of mind, that moment you described so perfectly: for you to fuck me until the only word I remember is your name.
So, give me your poetry, your dock-talk, your every thought. I will greedily take them all and let them drive the words out of my mind until only one remains.
Love,
Your Melancholy