july 25th the first site wide event will launch after the AC! stay tuned for more details <3
july 25th july ac is live! [LINK] remember to post in the check to save your roster!
july 1st our second activity check is over! remember: if you lost a character in the activity check, you can reclaim them here: [LINK]
june 08 kadath now has a bestiary! [LINK] have a monster idea? add them!
june 07 new skin! please pm ysa with any noticeable issues
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Posted: Jun 10 2017, 07:26 PM
I-58 had always enjoyed Sundays.
Free days, where she could mostly do what she pleased. Even if her possibilities within the naval district hadn't been many, she enjoyed just staying there, staring at the open seas while sitting on the pier. Or hanging out with whoever wasn't currently in service. Now that she thought about it, she had made most of her non-submarine friends on Sundays; Miyuki, Shoukaku, Yahagi, Suzuya...
She couldn't but wonder how were they doing. Were they still in the district, or maybe they had been pulled to this world, just like her? Did they complete the operation she had left halfway through? Had new comrades joined them in their struggles? These and many more questions regarding her home sprang in her mind every now and then, but were promptly dismissed as quickly as they appeared; truth was that she couldn't do anything about that, and worrying about things she couldn't change was an exercise of futility.
Frankly, the submarine had enough worries in this world already; paying rent and taking care of a population of faeries that grew gradually, all while trying to find her own way in this new world, and hopefully to restore some of her damaged systems back to shape. A tall order that would take her a fair amount of time... if she ever got around completing it.
Now, however, she preferred to store those worries in the back of her mind. It was Sunday after all, right? She'd have the whole week to worry about her daily life. For now, she had decided that her biggest concern would be the box she was carrying right now; a bargain, if she had seen them! She remembered puzzles being quite expensive back on planet Earth, but she had gotten this 2675 piece beauty pretty much for free, or at least at a price that seemed to be ridiculously low for such huge amount of entertainment. Quite lucky, huh?
And that was why she was currently smiling as she crossed the street, back to her apartment. Who knows, maybe she'd get her roommate to help her assembling it? That'd be double the fun, even if her relationship with Maria had been rather stiff thus far. Hellos, goodbyes, gazing at each other during breakfast in awkward silence, among others...
Well, I-58 had tried to change that for some time now, but the woman just seemed to be rather curt towards her. Maybe she disliked her? She couldn't rule out that possibility, despite that probably not being the case. With any luck, she'd find out soon enough.
The journey to the third floor, room B ended in relative calm. At least until the girl realized she had lost her keys; she checked her pockets once, then twice, finding that they just weren't there. Where had she put them? Sighing, she knocked the door gently, hoping that Maria hadn't gotten out; otherwise... she'd be in for what could possibly be a long wait "Uh... hello? I think I lost my keys, dechi. Can you open the door, please?"
Posted: Jun 20 2017, 09:56 AM
Sundays are difficult.
It is common place for Maria to do little but exist. For her, there is no blessing in life, no thanks or gratitude. She exists by circumstance, by willpower beyond her own, strength she cannot counter with her own hand or blade or desire. And, she exists as she has always done, the only way she has ever known: through blood and viscera and, now, sorrow. Rarely does she hunt during the day. Most of it spent researching, another old habit, learning the way's of Kadath, questioning the voice that had mocked her on the first breath of this new life, pondering what it means to bring her here, to pull her from the Nightmare to a place that shone light on the backward behavior of her home. Maria does not understand. But that was the folly of all men: that they sought to do so. Consumed insight, misread signs, abused them. The catacombs, the ashen blood, the curse, the hunts: all proof of what they had played with before they had understood.
Day is, primarily, where she finds rest. Short naps always interrupted by a foreign noise or her own nightmares. Because at night, she cannot sleep. Back to the wall, ear to the window, listening. Waiting for the wails, the screaming. Waiting for the curse to follow her here. Waiting for it to play again. It had promised her that.
Sundays are, on their own, another complication. Religion is one of many dead things in her chest. A question. The lingering, defining lack of understanding. But still, the words are on her tongue when she wakes and she hears the echoes of bells in the recesses of her mind. She can still see the sweep of the Choir's holy garb. The black and white robes of the clergy, blood stains on their gloves. Sunday was a day of worship in the Research Hall, the last place she had been before the end. They went without work. Most of them did. Some pledged their devotion in their work. Maria did not, could not, all her actions nauseating. She spent it with patients: the ones that grew erratic from the loud clang of the bells. The ones that wanted to pray but could not quite recall the words. 'The sky and the. The sky and. The sky and the sky. The sky and. Bless us. Yes. Lady Maria? Lady Maria, I remembered it this time!' All of them dying with her assistance, water-logged and mad. All of them with no proof, no reassurance, just their broken sentences and misplaced adoration.
She could not sleep today. Spent the morning pacing in her roommate's absence until she broke from the dream state that fell over as she did it. Since then, she had settled on the couch, some old tome of Kadath's history she'd pulled from the library. She has read only a few words, her eyes drifting more often than not out of focus. Sometimes to the faint red-orange stain that is fading to black on the corner of the page. Sundays are difficult. A day of worship. A reminder. A hum in her blood. A reminder of the sins she had committed for the church.
The knock is not unexpected. Maria had, after all, found the keys in question on the floor in the kitchen earlier. Her eyes flicker to the page number of a book she hadn't been reading before closing it. Without preamble, she stands and goes to the door. Maria doesn't bother with the one-way glass hole in the center, just opens it, eyes already directed low to meet I-58's. A doll was an adequate summary of Maria's features, soft, flawless. Dead. "You left them." Her eyes shift away from the girl in the direction of the kitchen without turning her head away. "They're on the table," she clarifies, letting go of the door and heading back to where she'd left her book on the couch.
Posted: Jul 24 2017, 05:52 PM
A sigh of relief escaped I-58's lips as soon as she heard the steps coming towards the door. Well, at least she had been lucky in that sense.
Now that she thought about it, the shipgirl didn't know much about Maria's habits, despite them sharing the same place for some time now. Was she, in fact, little more than a stranger for her? Strange thoughts to have in the idle moments until the door opened, for sure.
Still, those wouldn't abandon her mind so easily. The door opened, prompting an apologetic smile to form on I-58's features as she faced Maria. "Oh, so it was that, dechi. That was so clueless of me." As soon as that short exchange ended, she took the opening left by her roommate to enter the apartment, closing the door right behind her. "Thank you, by the way. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been here, dechi. I probably would've been stuck in there, waiting."
Not... the happiest of topics, to be honest; moving on! Leaving the big box she carried in between her arms in the edge of the kitchen's counter, she sighed. "So, how was your day, dechi? Did you do anything exciting?" Let's face it; they had never held a conversation for more than ten seconds, and this probably wasn't going to be an exception, especially since the topic was so... uninteresting?
But that wasn't going to prevent her from trying, right? Perks of being stubborn. Her gaze went lazily towards her bedroom's open door, and it didn't surprise her that a handful of faeries were already pouring out of it. As much as she had told them to stay in there, mostly for their safety, she couldn't really blame them. Who'd like to be confined to such a compratively tiny space.
This time, however, it was for a reason. Besides the obvious happiness they had displayed upon her return, as soon as the submarine crouched down the greet them, they expressed the fact that... they were hungry.
Whoops! Nuances of being away the whole morning. She'd have to fix that soon. Another apologetic smile and some quick promises about a meal that would be delivered soon were made before I-58 set back to the kitchen. The puzzle would have to wait some more, she guessed.
Oh, right. She gazed couch. "Hey Maria. I'm about to cook some lunch, dechi. Have you eaten something yet or do you want for me to cook for you too?" The more the merrier, after all! Hopefully she'd take up the offer.
Little submarines with aprons goooooo \o/
Posted: Aug 13 2017, 03:04 PM
She heads to the couch but doesn't sit again. The lie of pretending to be engrossed in a book would not work as well with company. She sighs, turning the book in her hands as her roommate speaks. It is unfair, her distance, but Maria does not know how to play the role the girl is asking of her. Her first comment, after all, is discarded. The hypothetical did not interest her: yes, she probably would have spent the day in the hall. Probably is an unnecessary agreement to voice so she does not. Instead, she opens the book between her hands to the page she'd left off on.
Nothing on the page registers anything. She forgets the number and closes it again, sliding it onto the end table. The girl speaks again and Maria turns this time, breathing deep. Distraction, she supposed, was as good as anything else. After all, it was what she had been trying to do herself. "No," she says, still stiff, waving a hand to the book she'd discarded. She looks at the puzzle on the table, concludes what I-58 had done with her morning, and almost does not offer anything else. But she can feel the spreading discomfort in the girl, in the space between them. It isn't fair. She means to try, only to be distracted at the movement on the other end of the room.
Maria's eyes flicker to watch the fairies slip from the doorframe to huddle in the kitchen with I-58. She forgets about them, often, a new sight to readjust to every time they showed up. They did not often do so when the girl was gone. A sentiment she does not fault them for: what mood did she send pacing the apartment all morning? Despite the foreignness of them, they offer a softer tone. Maria is not, at least, afraid of what they might become. They cheer up the girl as well, and Maria studies the interaction she has seen a handful of times before. At least the girl is not completely alone.
Whatever spiral her thoughts meant to drag her into, they do not have the time to hint the dark edges before I-58 perks up. Maria does not answer right away, eyes moving between the girl and her fairies. She cannot remember when she last ate. Sometime yesterday, before dark. She does not remember what she ate. No doubt something with little flavor. She is, she decides, being unreasonable. "I have not," she admits, looking back at I-58. "If it is not trouble, I would be grateful." Her stomach has the decency not to growl. Maria stops herself from clenching a fist. "I can. Assist, if you need it." Good, normal, even as her brow furrows for a beat. "What are you cooking?" A valid question considering the foreign nature of everything, not only in Kadath, but in this child with her odd phrases and companions. It would not, she know, contain blood, a notion she will not bring up again.