abraxaslogs | it's not your act of creation

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it's not your act of creation

Who: Claire and closed starters + opens
When: September + October
Where: her house in Solvunn, the Horizon, will add more locations as needed
What: An open where Clarie discovers she can control bees (up to 30 ft), an option to bake bread or garden with her, eventual questing, a handful of closed starters and more!
Warnings: Will update as needed
Notes: Please feel free to match the brackets or switch to prose, tag with your heart. Assume wildcarding is on the table, just message me first or hmu on plurk @

babybananas w/any ideas!

look how cute, how adorable, how perfect

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You flatter me, and I hope I find it. Why don't you come to my horizon domain and we'll try something? If you wind up liking it, I'll make it for real and bring it to Nocwich next time it's open.

[ Two years is impressive; she's nearly been here that amount of time now, and it feels as though it's gone so quickly. ]

I'm happy to find myself with Jon Snow after we spent those last few centuries together during the shared, collective glimpse into the future. Only he's in Thorne, and I feel as though the cosmic punchline to my life, is that time or distance will always separate me from those I love.

It's not easy to do, that's for sure. I miss Wanda all the time. And I've told her that I'd show up in Solvunn some day but she doesn't believe me.

( he smiles at that. )

She also thinks I'd be bored which...she might be right. I'm not the world's most optimistic person so I get where you're coming from. It's hard and you miss the other person and it sucks when there's something bad happening and you can't do anything.

( which happens a lot in this place. )

But I try and tell myself it's better than not having her at all.

John offers her a gentle smile, understanding how difficult it must have been for her to find herself here, after having been so long without him. He had witnessed her grief when she had thought he had died, and in truth he supposes that finding herself here was losing him again, in a way. Losing everything and everyone she had known and loved. At least he had had her, but her connection to him wasn't nearly as strong as his had been, when he'd first arrived.

"I have always known you to be a very strong woman, Claire," he says, softly. "Be it circumstance that made you so, or your sheer stubborn determination." His smile quirks at her. "Where you live, when you settle down... Is very much like this place, in all respects. Your garden, your kitchen." His lips quirk. "Your bees. Because you know yourself, my dear. Then and there, and here and now. And you need no man to tell you that."

[ annabeth is getting there. something permanent doesn't feel as out of reach as it used to. the idea of it is such a huge part of what helped her through tartarus; she can't give up on it now. ]

[ she knew, obviously, that admitting to claire some of the things on her mind would elicit some sort of response. perhaps she'd wanted one like this all along but didn't really know how to ask for it. ]

[ she isn't looking at claire as the woman speaks, but as she goes on, annabeth can feel a smile threatening to slip onto her face until it finally catches the corner of her mouth. she doesn't want to be her mother, for all the pieces she might still admire, and she certainly doesn't want to be her father, but most of all she doesn't want to be made of war. and she's been through so much of it already. she looks up at claire to meet her gaze and feels lighter, smiling back. ]

Yeah. You're right. I can and I will choose for myself.

[ she always tries to anyway. sometimes, maybe, she does just get a little too bogged down by war. ]

It's just hard not to worry sometimes, I guess, when there's been so much war. I really can't wait to leave it all behind one day.

[Simple a task though it may be, proof of a job well done always has Michael looking as content as a little round songbird preening itself. Food's hard to master without a sense of taste, but he's got breakfast down.]

Is this a new hive I've yet to see, or simply the resident bees? Either way, if you have need of a negotiator, I'm available.

[Not that there'd be much to say. Bees aren't complex enough for big words. But where Claire's concerned, whatever skills he has are always on offer.]

Have fun in Nocwich.

[He gives Claire a small smile, knowing. He can guess what she'll be getting up to in Nocwich and with whom—but those details are one aspect of her life he's content to leave fuzzy, not entirely understood by him.

Michael takes a sip of his plain hot water. This is a mark of friendship, this mirroring. He doesn't drink around strangers.]

Both. The bird needs tending to whether or not I have visitors, and I have to make sure the walking fish haven't gotten themselves tangled in the fence or something similar. Someone once let them in and they managed to trap themselves in the bath. As for Nocwich, I can make a few coins from the locals in exchange for procuring goods they can't acquire locally. And frankly, it's nice to be allowed out of here from time to time.

[He looks at the girl's statue for a long moment. It's only what he can remember of the statue. He is not sure he got the face right. His father would have done a better job of it, he is sure.]

I don't know. My father wouldn't speak much of her. Everyone always said she was beautiful. A little wild -- she liked to ride. Dark hair, like most of the Starks.

[Like his. In fact, the statue shows very little, but perhaps it looks a little like him.]

I don't think it matters much what most people want where I come from, women or men, but you're right that a lot of highborn girls don't have much say. I don't know how she felt about Robert, or Rhaegar. They were both very handsome, both great warriors -- though by the time I saw him, Robert was a fat old drunkard with a cruel wife. His wife helped kill my father, she's tried to kill my sister, she's still trying to kill me. Rhaegar kept Lyanna in a tower down in Dorne -- that's way down south. He called it the Tower of Joy.

My father became Lord Stark, married his brother's betrothed. Her father's men joined his men, and Robert's men, and Lord Arryn's men. King's men began to lose, and eventually, Rhaegar's armies met Robert's armies at the River Trident. It had been more than a year since the war began, and my father had got me on some woman in that time. His wife was not best pleased. Once they knew each other, he would not look at other ladies, but during the Rebellion, they were hardly more than strangers. He'd left just after their wedding night.

Ah, well. Robert and Rhaegar met in single combat, and in the end, Robert slew Rhaegar with a blow to the chest with his war hammer.

The old Hand of the King, Tywin Lannister, he had held back his armies, not taken sides in the war, because of some quarrel he had with the Mad King, but when he saw which way the wind was blowing, he joined his banners with Robert's and sacked the capital. So my father went to the capital, found that Tywin's son had slain the Mad King and his knights had slain Rhaegar's wife and their little children. He didn't speak of that much, either, but everyone knows it happened; Jaime Lannister is called the Kingslayer more than he's called by his name. Then my father went looking for his sister.

When he found my aunt, in the tower where Rhaegar had been keeping her, she was dying of a fever. My father and his friends had to fight and kill Arthur Dayne, the greatest Kingsguard of his time, might be the greatest Kingsguard of any time, to get to her, but he did. Many of the Northmen with him were slain in the fighting. But he saw her as she died, and he brought her body home to be buried in the North. It was in accordance with her wishes. I don't think she wanted her bones to lie somewhere so hot and dry, where she had been a prisoner. She was just sixteen.

[There's her voice, at least, as far as he knows. And now his voice is a little bit apologetic, as he continues,]

I have happier tales, for a crypt.

Edited 2024-11-02 10:35 (UTC)

[ The hug is like a comforting blanket, and Claire sighs softly as she sinks into it for a moment before giving him a small squeeze and pulling back. ]

You don't have to blame it on anything, time isn't a condition of our friendship.

[ It isn't as though she reached out, either. Not for any reason other than being wrapped up in her own life, busy and worried about everyone. ]

Reunited at a remembrance memorial. [ She looks at Sylvain, her expression warm and fond. ] I'm so glad you aren't a part of this.

[ She worries the longer she's here. One day, someone's going to leave that truly hurts her, and he's among the group of people who would take a piece of her heart with him if he did. ]

[ Claire smiles, though it's small, and she begins to rise. She remembers what this was like, the confusion and fear, the bit of curiosity she couldn't help. Needing to brace a hand on the table to keep from wobbling, she notes to herself that too much healing back-to-back seems to make her weaker, faster. It makes sense, and it was worth it. ]

You're welcome, Daisy. You can come back in the morning for breakfast if you'd like, or coffee and tea if you're not fond of food in the A.M.

[ As a doctor she should push for the most important meal of the day, but she's found people are going to do what they want anyway, so she's learned not to worry about it. ]

I'll let you ask anything you want and I promise I'll answer the best that I can.

[The way she braces herself doesn't go unnoticed by Daisy, and she frowns in response.]

You told me your powers have no ill-effects on you.

[Clearly, that wasn't the case. Maybe she hadn't been truthful with her because she figured Daisy wouldn't have Claire to heal her. Which is exactly what would have happened.]

You might want to set aside your entire day then, doc.

[Daisy warns, knowing she'll have a long mental list of questions to ask by tomorrow.]

Edited 2024-11-02 20:04 (UTC)

[ What Claire doesn't know, what she can't know unless or until she goes home, is that the magic is there inside of her, waiting to be used for the first time while acting as midwife. Traveling the through the stones has changed her, given her the ability, but back home, she hadn't learned how to tap into it. ]

You're not wrong. Most of those people just so happened to be women with strong opinions.

[ Claire listens, nodding along as Tifa speaks, then she gives a soft chuckle. ]

You know, you've made me realize that I started building my little circle around magic; Himeka and Wanda led to meeting so many others, and now that little circle feels like an entire community.

[ She doesn't mean to sound so sentimental, but she can't help it. And the longer she's here, the more it means to her that those people are still here with her. ]

I only wish I could get to those who aren't here in Solvunn.

[ A frown touches her lips before raising her cup to take a sip of tea. ]

I've never lived anywhere with borders quite like this.

[ Claire would be quick to say her magical exploration and feeling safe enough to do so, began with Wanda and Himeka, the two of them patient enough to teach her. She's told Tifa that the community around her is one that began with those two, and grew from there. She would be damned honored to be part of a coven, to be included in something bigger than herself. ]

I wonder if we could cast some sort of spell together; admittedly I haven't looked much into runes, and I haven't thoroughly read anything about the others. But whatever we do, it might be stronger if we do it together.

[ Though it was during the shared future, Claire still remembers combining Zagreus combining his magic with her own, and what it felt like to see their magic working together. ]

[ Claire smiles too, she can't help it. ]

It may not be ideal, but I share your sentiment. Something is better than nothing.

[ But there is one big thing looming that she feels she can't ignore. ]

This war has me on edge. Jon's in Thorne, and I know he's capable, I do, but...Solvunn just doesn't seem to get the brunt of things in comparison to there, and the Free Cities.

[ For obvious reasons, it's their argument, but she wishes all the time she could get Jon there somehow. ]

"Thank you for saying that John, truly." She's never lacked for self-confidence (mostly), and while she doesn't often say it to herself, she does know she's strong. But it's something else when others say it to her, never knowing how to respond. Still, she manages to match his smile, taking a sip of tea. Then, in an attempt at humor, she jokes:

"You can't say I don't have a type."

The similarities are striking, both ~~himbos~~ men who have lived their trials and gone through hell and are somehow still alive to speak of it, to have enough room within them to love her. And they're fit. So fit it's nearly criminal she's been this lucky twice. Immediately, she takes a longer drink, shrugging one shoulder casually.

I hope you're able to do that some day, I really do. You deserve not to have that burden. You're so young, it's important that you get to explore who you are and who you want to be, without war hanging over you.

[ Claire pauses; she hates this war, the uncertainty of it. She doesn't know who it will wind up impacting the worst, if there will be a dire need for medical attention, if she'll lose anyone she loves. ]

That said, it's difficult not to worry. I think I worry every day. The key is not to let the worry stop you.

I've noticed that as well.

( that solvunn seems to be spared some of the things that go on in the other territories. )

I think that just makes me anxious, though. That luck's going to run out for Solvunn and they'll get targeted when they don't expect it.

( he really does hope he's wrong though, he really does. )

A new hive, finally. I wasn't sure how long it was going to take, but here we are. They're magically fortified, so if we're ever absent for long again and they can't get to the flowers for some reason, they'll be alright.

[ She feels so much better about that, and she takes a sip of tea. Consciously, she doesn't realize exactly how comfortable they've become around one another, but she doesn't sit with many others in her shift with bare feet. No one else, other than Jon. Michael brings her comfort and ease, the first friend in her life she felt she could be herself with from the start.

Her lips curl into a small smile. Yes, yes she will have fun. ]

Thank you. I meant to ask, how are you enjoying your fish with feet? And remind me to get you some fresh jars of honey if you'd like.

[ For whatever he'd want to use them for: at the inn, for trade or re-gifting. ]

I'll be around in the next couple of weeks with autumn and winter tea blends and items for the rooms.

[ With her wax she can make candles, and she provides lotions and soaps. It's a fun side hobby for her, something to keep her contributing. ]

Not to change the topic, but why did a Summond tell me he was in need of character references?

[ Which was absolutely hilarious to her, and completely on brand. ]

He wound up getting me accidentally hit in the face again, this time minorly thank goodness.

[ Her lip is nice and normal looking thanks to a little magical touch up. Not healing, because she can't heal herself, but she'd found a loophole. ]

[ Somewhere in the middle of Jon explaining, Claire frowns. As much for the story itself as the picture he's beginning to paint. Her mind moves in a different direction, and she looks up at the statue of Lyanna's face, to Jon and back again, murmuring. ]

Poor girl.

[ But the pieces he's laid out, that his father left looking for his sister and returned with a baby, she can't help but see what feels obvious. ]

Jon-

[ When Claire looks at him again, she realizes this has never occurred to him, that Lyanna is actually his mother, and she doesn't know now is the time to say it. She isn't even sure she has a right to be the one to lay out the possibility to him. For now, she changes her mind and shakes her head, reaching up to press her hand to his cheek, stroking her thumb over his skin fondly. ]

I didn't expect stories with happy endings. I'm glad to know all of it, even the barbarism. Honestly, it mimics so much of the history of my world. I could easily exchange cultures and it would still make sense.

[ She drops her hand and tilts her head, giving him a wry smile. ]

You explain as well as any historian or...maester could.

[ She's learning his world's language for things, a bit. He calls her that sometimes, his Lady Maester, and she quietly loves it. ]

It has made me anxious, admittedly. I'm as stocked and prepared as I can be for when it does go to hell in a hand-basket. I was given a healing power at some point after we returned from our journey to the future. It makes me feel a bit better about my ability to help.

[ She's always felt a bit inadequate in that way, but finally, she can match some of the others. Of course, her magic doesn't work on herself, but that doesn't matter much to her if it's saving others. ]

What I worry about more is what the council might be willing to do. Human sacrifice already made it onto the table, and we gained a new god out of it to protect our sea border. But what tops a willing human sacrifice?

[ She remembers the vision Michael shared with her, of Jocelyn plucking out a man's eyes for some sort of ritual. It most certainly hadn't been done willingly. How do they know there aren't any other rogue locals waiting to pull a Jocelyn all in the name of the gods? ]

[When she pauses, says his name, he gives her a little frown, a questioning look. Had she not dropped her hand, he would have leaned in to kiss her, but it breaks the mood. Instead, he laughs.]

I had it from the maester who taught us. Luwin, his name was. A good man -- kindly. He liked all these old stories. I don't think a man becomes a maester if he does not, though some attend more to their potions.

[He gestures down the wall: unfilled tombs, no statues.]

The rest of the tombs are empty, for the rest of the Starks. I knew my bones had no place here -- I'm not a Stark. Bastards don't get buried down here. I thought I'd lie in the lichyard at Castle Black someday; now I don't think I'll be half so lucky.

I remember once, my brother Robb and I played a prank on the others. He brought them down to show them where their bones would lie one day. Only I had hidden in the tomb, covered in flour --

[All those years of wondering who his mother might be -- it has never occurred to him, not once, that he ought to have been wondering who his father was. That he might not be a Stark at all, but a Targaryen. That there was no reason for there to be three Kingsguard protecting the mere mistress of a dead prince, rather than his bride, who carried in her belly what might be the last Targaryen king. That it was never Ned Stark's way to betray his own new bride, no matter how much of a stranger she might have been, but that it was his way to protect his sister's son, particularly once he had seen what Tywin Lannister had had done to Rhaegar Targaryen's other children. What Lyanna had wanted was a life with Rhaegar, and when she couldn't have it, a chance for her son to grow and live.

Everything is there in the story, but Jon has always believed in Ned too much to question it. Everyone did. Ned was too honest, too honorable, to have lied about it. Having a bastard son was almost the only scandalous thing he had ever done; everything else was upright to the end.

Ned, whose statue he has barely shown her. Ned, who, in stone, looks a little like Jon might.]

Edited 2024-11-10 07:03 (UTC)

[Magically fortified bees is a mildly concerning concept—imagine they got out and hybridized with the local bees—but if he trusts anyone's use of magic, it's Claire's. It sounds like resiliency is the goal and not any of the other dozen worse things one might do with magic bees. That desire is easy to understand. He hasn't forgotten how low the loss of her original hives had brought her mood.]

You'll have to make introductions for me, as well. Perhaps while you're introducing Joe.

[Two birds, one stone. Michael's always in favour of efficiency.

He nods acceptance at her offer. Truth be told, the monthly visits might very well be a big part of why he's kept the bed and breakfast open now that Gabriel's no longer around to annoy him into participating. It's nice for them to have a place to go that isn't the Primary Settlement, home of the most upright and religious members of the commune. The change of scenery is welcome in the same way getting to visit Nocwich is.]

I'll keep a room ready for you, and I'm happy to accept whatever you care to bring. You know better than I what might make a guest's stay more comfortable.

I suppose I'm enjoying the fish well enough. They do have an odd fascination with ankles, but they don't seem to be having an adverse affect on the environment and they keep the insects in check. I assumed Nanaue would return for them at some point, but he seems to forget them as soon as he's made them.

[So, they're not causing a problem. That's praise from Michael. He has less praise for the man in her change of topic, his grip shifting and tightening on his mug in a way that suggests irritation. The knowledge that he got Claire hurt tips his opinion of Chris into the negative.]

Young man with a mouth and a bad attitude? [He's asking to see if they're on the same page as to their general opinion of him. He knows who she means. There's only one person he's set those restrictions on.] He seemed surprised I'd let him stay at the inn, which suggested to me he's been trouble in the past. It seemed wise to vet him first. I'm sorry to hear he dragged you into whatever fight he started. Any other medical concerns I should know about?

[Michael gives her an appraising look. Minor bumps and bruises are normal and no cause for concern, but it doesn't hurt to ask. Claire can take care of herself better than most—but sometimes she doesn't.]

"It's alright. Laughter is probably the best reaction I can think of." Honestly, she hadn't shot, stabbed or threatened him and after he spent a year of having his own family tell them they hated him? Well, laughter was fine. And Michael? Honestly Chris just wasn't sure. He didn't have the best relationship with other angels, his own murder and daddy issues included, and Michael? He hadn't really gotten to know him before he asked him for three character references.

"I guess I'll have to take your word on Michael. I haven't really gotten to talk to him that much. But, it sounds like you know him kind of well." Most people didn't talk about people they were just acquainted with like that. Or maybe that was just the way Claire was?

"So you went back first accidentally?" Chris got a look on his face, like he was trying to compute how the hell someone accidentally time traveled. " How?"

And the garden? "Do you think I might be able to gather a few items? Not a lot. Just bits and pieces for some potions?" And bees? Was it too weird to see if he could ....recycle any dead bee parts? If she had any? That was weird right? But not burn someone at the stake weird?

Edited 2024-11-04 02:58 (UTC)

[ annabeth sometimes does not feel as young as she is, but she wonders if that's just part of being a demigod, given she feels like she struggles more with the mortal part of her life when it comes to normalcy. she knows what's normal for the god side. ]

Sometimes I don't think war is ever really going to stop, but it would be nice if it didn't have to involve me all the time. That'd help with some of the worries.

[ and percy, and everyone she cares about, but the last few years especially have felt like one thing after another, probably from the labyrinth onward. ]

My parentage is a huge part of me. I can't really stop being a demigod, and I don't really want to give it up either, but...

[ she pauses. ] I want to be an architect. That's something that's all mine.

My guess?

( not that he really wants to guess on something like this and possibly give this world any ideas. )

Unwilling human sacrifice? Just grab someone at random and tell them that's what they're gonna do and give them no choice about it.

( at least a willing sacrifice had seemingly volunteered. )

I've never used so much at once, and it's nothing a nap won't fix. I'm only tired, not dying.

[ But now she knows, though that doesn't necessarily mean she'll be more careful. ]

I don't mind doing my chores and talking at the same time, as long as you don't mind being outdoors all day.

[ She can talk and do most things, they don't have to be quite so formal. ]

[Daisy doesn't look impressed by her response, at all. Not that she has a leg to stand on after how stubborn she had been earlier, which is why she doesn't say anything.]

I'd like that. It's been a while since--

[She won't finish that sentence, and instead clears her throat.]

Does tomorrow work for you?

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it's not your act of creation

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