I imagine ( rather, hope ) I need no introduction, but just in case, allow me to digress for a moment... Idle tongue wagging and all: four hundred year old vampire, long-term Springs resident, your museum director and official owner of the Savin estate. If you need a place to lay low, you've come to the right man. { Mobile Navigation }
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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ianncarderoâ:
âShe is??â Iann perked up suddenly, interest always taken at the mention of baseball. Granted, this wasnât the time to be distracted by national sports, and he gave Fane a crooked grin as the vampire went on.
âAhhhhhhh, thatâs only because I make twenty theories all at the same time, so one of themâs bound to be right, huh? So it sounds like I know what Iâm talking about. Iâm the equivalent of a horoscope,â he said, nudging companionably against Fane as they walked. Despite the stress and danger of this situation, Iann always did relish the small moments where he could justâŚtalk with whomever he was with. Made things less terrifying for him, to banter and converse as if this was normal. When he knew damn well there was nothing normal about this.
But what else could they do, but carry on and hope to find a way out?
âI justâŚâ Iannâs brow furrowed slightly, as he looked sidelong at Fane, studying the vampire. Other than the mud, Savin looked as dignified as ever, that permanent aura of grace and elegance. Iann wasnât sure if it was because he was a vampire (a species that were naturally graceful, once they honed their superior physical prowess) or because he was raised royal. Whatever it was, Iann believed the other man never dropped that stature until he was alone. Or perhaps now, when he was with Faye. Iann cleared his throat and continued.
âI justâŚfigure itâs something youâd wanna prepare yourself for. When - if - or no, when we find her. Your mother, I mean.â Iann had noticed that Fane had yet to really say much about his mother, never mind acknowledge that she was in this world. As a ghost, but still, his parent.  âThis isnât exactly a situation one would expect to find themselves, ahâŚ.like four hundred years after her death.â
When they found her, Iann could see Faneâs long pale fingers twitching, tempted to drag up his mother as easily as he dragged Iann up from the ground. Spinning from one side to the next, Iann looked around for something, anything that could try and fish her out.
Fortunately (or unfortunately?) his search was short-lived. Because the moment Fane spoke, her eyes suddenly opened under the murky water. Her focus was entirely on Fane; and she lurched up out of the water, looking almost vampire-like herself.
âNo wait - Fane the ghosts can touch you here, theyâre corporeââ Iann called out, skidding on the wet rocks to grab at Fane. But his mother screamed something in a language that Iann didnât know as she grabbed the vampire first, and pulled him right into the water with her. Â
âSheâs taken an interest yeah, been doing some throwing and catching with her. Though Iâm pretty sure she aims anywhere but the hands deliberately. That childâs fierceness is her motherâs own brand I swear.â
âWell, thatâs what makes you good at all this supernatural stuff. Your brain works on twenty tangents simultaneously and you can manage to keep up with them while equally deducing and removing the unnecessary threads.â He grinned as they went preferring to think on this sideline tangent conversation rather than whatever they were headed towards. âI couldnât keep up if thatâs how my brain worked, no Iâm much better dealing with things one issue at a time.â
There was a fission of tension that seemed to ripple over him at the persistence regarding his mother. In all honesty he didnât know how or what he was supposed to do. Heâd been avoiding this entire fiasco for the last four hundred odd years give or take. Now he was being thrust right in at the deep end and being told he had to confront it? The stubborn side of him balked at the mere notion, rejecting it with pure might and resistance. âAnd tell me,â he began, voice a fraction tighter âhow do you prepare yourself for seeing a woman you ran away from, whose heart you broke and family you led to ruin almost four hundred years ago and whose funeral you never attended?â The weight of the guilt was something he very rarely let himself dwell on, it was only the eventual curiosity about what had become of them that he even knew.
âWhat do you me- Woahhhhhh!â any further inquiry was silenced by the a familiar language and large splash of water that followed his submersion head-first into the black depths of the sinkhole. That, as he was dragged further under by the spirit? Was it a spirit? was discovered to be far deeper than first appearances. His hands clasped around the wrist of the watery wraith, trying to pry it free but the speed with which they moved left little room for leverage.Â
The pool where Fane had vanished began to bubble and churn, the dark depths infathomable. Suddenly, a thick black and purple suckered tentacle shot out, curling around Iannâs ankle and lower leg and began to yank him towards the very same depths Fane had vanished into moments prior.
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faye-savinâ:
Faye moved a few things as well - the desk was currently a hazard really - and instantly looked to the open pages of the book Fane set down. She nodded in agreement as most urban areas were ruled out as potential locations. The orchid wouldnât thrive there. Not in a city.Â
Fane continued, and it wasnât hard to tell that heâd been doing this sort of thing for a very, very long time. The map was expertly gone over, notated, and marked. But what really got Fayeâs attention were the three large, red circles, he pointed out. None of which were anywhere near Soapberry.Â
She let out a slow breath, rubbing a hand thoughtfully over her mouth. The second book was one sheâd seen it in Faneâs collection before, but couldnât quite remember the title. Regardless, this was⌠it was nearly enough to make her cry. That in such a short amount of time, her husband had quiet possibly found the unfindable. Faye wrapped a hand around his arm, taking a moment to lean against him. âThis is⌠unreal, Fane.â She shook her head, looking at all the research laid out in front of them. âYouâre brilliant, you know that, right?â A small huff of a laugh followed. âAbsolutely brilliant.âÂ
As for the tiny detail of location, Faye took another breath and gave his arm a squeeze. âOf course they are. This is us weâre talkinâ about.â There was a tiny hint of humor in her voice as she reached out her free hand to trace the three circles. âSo⌠where to first? Iâve always wanted to take my vampire husband back to the Sahara.âÂ
Fane had plenty of experience dealing with cartography, especially the mapping of terrains and documenting the most likely position of things. Heâd spent several years in Dubai and Cairo working for the British during both World Wars doing exactly that. Documenting a land heâd been living in for several decades before that time and doing his best to utilise the information to aid in the co-ordination of attacks. Some of which had been a success and others, well, they neednât be thought on too closely.
Almost all other projects had been put on hold for this one, because this ultimately took far more precedence than any of the other jobs and issues presently in his life. This was his wifeâs safety and sanity on the line, and nothing would ever come before that. So he gave her the time she needed to process, leaning steady on the desk as Faye pressed herself into him. âI told you, Iâd do anything... Find anything for you.â This had nothing to do with being brilliant or amazing, heâd done it for the sole fact that he loved her too much to ever see her suffer again.
âWell, you know,â his grin was a little more strained âit wouldnât be fun if it was in Grannyâs diner down the road now would it?â He looked back to the map, âI mean if I had to pick a place where weird and mythical flora grew that hasnât yet been discovered Iâd probably hedge my bets on the rainforest...â
Trail of the Black Star || faye & fane
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ianncarderoâ:
âHey nice throws, taking it to the offensive, huh?â Iann said, watching as Fane catapulted mud at the creatures. It really spoke volumes to their different yet oddly compatible strategies. Iann had smothered himself in the mud as a way to mobilise unmolested; Fane weaponized the mud into projectiles, to ensure with a proactive finality that the monsters understood who was in control of the situation. Where Iann disguised, Fane shoved back, but the goal was still the same: rid themselves of the threat. Â
âIâd much rather be wrong, myself,â Iann said conversationally, nodding his gratitude to Fane and taking the baseball cap. As he followed the vampire - Fane had sharper supernatural hearing, so Iann willingly deferred to his keener sense being able to source the sounds of those haunting screams - he inspected the baseball cap to make sure it was free of debrisâŚand then affixed it right onto his mud-slicked hair. Â
At a particularly steep embankment, Iann reached up again, gripping Faneâs hand to get hauled onto the elevated hot spring.  âWhatâll you do if itâs her? I can give you some time to yourself maybeâŚI mean I donât want to intrude or anything.â Iann said, acting as if they were just visiting Faneâs estranged mum in a retirement home.
At the border of the dark forest, they found her.
She was within one of the murky hotsprings themselves, and reminded Iann of nothing more chilling than the sight Frodo saw in the Dead Marshes. A womanâs visage, pale and clear, floating just under the water. Â
The water bubbled around her, and even with her eyes closed, she opened her mouth to emit that now familiar but no less blood-curdling scream.
âGuess Wynâs recent interest in little league,â Fane said after pelting another mudball at the ape-creatures and watching them turn tail and flee into the treeline.Â
âYeah, but youâre hardly ever wrong are you? Or not usually far off from whatever is actually going on.â Fane easily lifted Iann up the ridge one-handedly, hardly fazed by the physicality of the action. It hardly affected him, though depending on how long theyâd be traipsing through the woods he wasnât sure how long heâd be able to go. His shins still ached when he pushed too much especially after the splintering they had taken under Bishop Srâs visit. Things had never quite gone quite fully back to the way they should despite his vampiric nature.
Another ongoing niggle to add to his slowly accumulating pile. But he pushed on, determined as ever to not let it hinder him. âI donât know...â he admitted as they walked along the dark path his eyes sweeping back and forth. âWeâll figure it out when we get to that point.â
And not much later they reached that point. The scream rung out, high and clear and set the hairs on the back of his arms and neck on end. He wanted to do nothing more than reach in and grab her, but the logic that prevailed and dictated his mind steadied his hand. âSee anything that might be disrupted if I pull her out?â Fane asked Iann, he couldnât see anything of note but Iann always did have an eye for this sort of thing. His fingers itched, tempted to just reach in and pull her out but caution stayed his hand. For now.
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faye-savinâ:
âAlright.â Faye would do what she could, but her research had reached a dead end. Fane had far more resources and contacts than she did, spread over the last four centuries, so she would let him take the lead on that end. On Fayeâs end, she would continued to research the properties of the flower itself, or similar flora. They would fix this. They would.Â
A week later and Faye was sitting in her office sending out one final email to the university to let them know she wouldnât be teaching her Spring classes this year due to personal reasons. She hoped to be back in the Summer, all things going as planned. If they didnât, well⌠they would just go from there, wouldnât they.Â
She looked up as Fane came in, his research efforts pushing the limits of obsession. Though Faye wouldâve done the same had the situation been reversed. Faye sat up, expression brightening as he said he might have something. âReally? Where?âÂ
Fane made some space on Fayeâs crammed desk, shifting some papers out of the way to set down his own book of research which was presently open on a global map. âWell, Iâve cross-referenced that map of ley-lines you got out of the university with recorded meteorite impact sites. It narrowed us down to some certain areas, some urbanised and likely not even worth considering -- others, a lot more remote.â
Looking to the map he reached out and tapped one area circled several times over in bold red pen then moved to two more, also circled âhere in the Amazon, the summit of Annapurna and then supposedly here in the Sahara Desert.â He hefted another book onto the desk, this tome dusty and its cover rather battered from years if not decades of wear and tear. Several pages were bookmarked, âIâve found the occasional mention of rare mythical flowers that also correspond with these three locations... Making them probably the most likely spots if this flower even does exist.â
âThe issue is... well...â Fane looked at the three spots, âtheyâre all also supposedly the most deadly places in the world.â
Trail of the Black Star || faye & fane
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faye-savinâ:
âYes.â The memories - so far - all took place after the blood moon from last year. âExcept for one.â Faye looked at Fane, her distress plain. âI forgot Carrington. For just a moment, I couldnât remember who he was. At all.â Faye had already tried to find a corresponding link between what she remembered happening and what had actually happened. So far she could only theorize. At least with the information she had.Â
His comment did draw a small laugh from her, and she couldnât help but move a bit closer. Because she missed him. So much. And it wasnât his fault that sheâd been distant. It was hers. And that was something sheâd have to make up for now that they were on the same path again, and not walking separately. A fact for which she was absolutely grateful.Â
Fane was her touchstone. Her guiding light in so many things. And Faye had no trouble admitting that. Some might see it as dependency. A weakness. But Faye saw it as a strength. They were stronger together, after all. Which was made apparent as Fane spoke again.Â
âI hadnât thought of thatâŚâ Fane did this for a living, after all. Finding things that were lost. Or supposed to exist but had never been found. No, it made perfect sense. A meteorite that fell to earth in the middle of nowhere, with no magical influence, was highly unlikely to spawn something like the orchid. At least⌠more unlikely than one that was influenced by magic.Â
âMaybe not, but maybe thereâs someone there that knows somethinâ?â With a flower so rare, Fane was right. It was unlikely to still be there. If it had ever been there at all. But information could go a long way. She tucked the thought into her mind for later, more focused on what Fane was saying.Â
âIâve got one somewhereâŚâ Faye moved back around her desk to shuffle through some papers. She eventually found a spiraled notebook that contained a small list written in her handwriting. It corresponded to most of the red pins on the atlas. âDo you have any contacts in any of these places?â she asked, handing him the notebook.
âThen why not cross reference a map of all the ley lines across each continent with what your meteorite map shows?â Fane gave a nod to the map sheâd referenced not long prior. If they needed to figure out where these orchid supposedly blossomed it was the best line of reference they had and might just narrow it down some more.
âSure, a few,â he said with another glance at the map before moving to take the notebook and have a look at it in more detail. âLeave it with me and Iâll see what I can come up with.â
It was another week following a mass ring-around, heâd put his other projects on hold for the time being. Dedicating every moment to trying to get some more information. Heâd even started a new journal dedicated entirely to whatever he could find on this rare orchid. Eventually, he had a couple of tentatively hopeful answers. Heading into Fayeâs office he held it up âso, Iâve reached out and Iâve got a couple of potential leads.â
Trail of the Black Star || faye & fane
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ianncarderoâ:
âWhat - that you donât need to breath-â Iann started to say, but one of the sharper bumps cut his question off and resulted in a miserable,  âOw, thit, I bit my thongue.â Iann had bigger pains to worry about though, when the tire blew, sending him catapulting and Fane, despite his best efforts, careening into squishy mud.
Iann groaned when he felt someone grab his jacket and haul him effortlessly to his feet.  âFive more minutes, Ma,â he said, but stood up on his own anyway, trying to wipe the mud off his clothes but finding it useless. He froze though at the sounds of the screams, the fact that the cries addressed Fane so directly, so plaintively.
He looked at Fane, eyes dark and intent.  âNo - yes - no yeah, weâre following that,â Iann stated, as if reading the look off of Faneâs face, that jaw-clenching determination to ignore the scream.  âI think thereâs a reason youâre being called out in this world, you specifically. Itâs a soulâs echo - that first plant was imitating someone. And it needed that someone in order to imitate in the first place. Whatever ghost is trapped here, we need to free it.â Â
And given the cries, Iann had an inkling of who that trapped ghost might be. He had an inkling that Fane too had that inkling. Carefully (because doing this felt more like a 40 Isle Prince-move than a regular old Iann-move) he placed his hand on Faneâs shoulder, and squeezed it.
âEven if itâs just another of those shitty plant things, weâll still ââ
He was cut off again at the sound of that garbled growling to their left and Iann cringed, about to scamper behind Fane for protection. The backwards-faced mouth-tentacle gorillas had caught up to them, but they seemed to pause, sniffing the air and then recoiling from the sulphurous stinking hot sprints. One of them set a paw forward, touching the rotted mineral mud and then screamed in pain, galloping back. The beasts were abhorrent of the hot springs, and Iann crouched down, taking more of the nasty slimy mud and slapping it onto himself in large gobs, all the while staring at the beasts.
âGonna try something. If I lose an arm, I charge you with finding a way to officially grow it back, once we get back to normal-Soapberry,â Iann told Fane, then cautiously stepped towards the gorillas. He reeking of mineral rot and sulphur as he reached out towards one of the gorillas. It sniffed, then whined and fell back. Iann moved closer to it, and it just bounced further back, like opposite magnets. Â
Iann stood up straight then, and lowered his arm. Â
âWeâre good, man. Weâre good,â Iann called out to Fane, just as the cries for help got louder, coming from deeper within the hot springs ponds.  âLetâs go get your mama.â
For a brief few moments the world went black as Fane was driven as speed face first into the mud until they both came to a sludgy stop and he was left spitting up globs of dirt. Quite a sight no doubt but the screeching roars from the tree line caused him to roll over and heft Iann up.
And for a moment he'd convinced himself they could ignore the screams. Like that would ever truly happen though. "Are we?" And there was an uncertain note to his voice that he rarely let show a wary helpfulness that this time around it would be her and not just another trick. It made sense, that he was being targeted so deliberately but also didn't help to think that his mother was trapped somewhere here. But Iann was right, the only way they would know the truth was to follow this to its source. No matter how terrifying that might be. "I hate when you're right," he said after a moment of deliberation knowing he would never forgive himself otherwise and perhaps it was also the reassurance in the weight of Iann's hand that drew him to say that.
But any further discussion was cut off by the growling barks of the tentacle-gorilla creatures and Fane watched in horrified fascination as they attempted (unsuccessfully) to cross onto the sulphurous mud. The slightest contact causing their matted black fur to blister and steam. While Iann came up with a clever plan of using the mud in one sense, Fane crouched scooping handfuls up and patting them together into little balls. Ones that once he had enough he launched at the creatures, a couple missed but a few more hit home on what he could only figure as the creatureâs face. The creatures wailed a distorted gargled cry, gnashing their fanged tentacles in apparent pain before wheeling and retreating.Â
âSounds fair,â he agreed while Iann tested out his theory and Fane followed suit; slapping copious amounts of stinking mud over his arms and legs. Retrieving the baseball bat he offered it for Iann to take once more and starting up a nearby embankment towards the cries for help.
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faye-savinâ:
âIt startedâŚâ Faye sighed. âIt started about a month ago. But⌠the memories themselves⌠a year or so? Nothing before Carrington showed back up in town.â That much Faye knew for certain. Which was odd. Sheâd seen the memory of that night already. Theyâd gone into Faneâs mind, pushed there by a Night Wisp. So Faye remembered what had happened. Didnât she?Â
Faneâs summary earned him a small laugh. âBasically, yeah. Though I hope without all the death and treachery and kidnapping.â Though it would be par for the course at this point. Neither of them would be surprised. She idly watched his fingers move through his beard, resisting the urge to reach out and stroke it herself. She had the habit of using her husband as a worry stone of sorts, needing to touch him or simply be next to him to ease whatever was on her mind. She missed him lately.Â
But her thoughts were drawn back to the here and now as Fane started a line of questions. âUm⌠not really? All I could find out is that⌠it grows from stardust. Or⌠meteorite dust. Space dust. Whatever you wanna call it. But Iâd assume it wonât grow in just any meteorite site? There has to be⌠some sort of magic involved, right? Even latent magic? To spur the initial growth process once the meteorite hits?â Faye scrubbed a hand through her hair. âAsk about nymphs too,â she said. âNymphs thatâve come from meteorites. Or stardust. Anything that could possibly be related.âÂ
Because Fane was right. As rare and magical as this orchid was supposed to be, someone had to know about them. Someone, or something. âI marked the sites I could find that matched the description in the book.â Faye pointed to his atlas. âAge of the meteorite impact, location, etc. There arenât many.â Maybe a dozen red pins marked the map. âOnly one is in the US.âÂ
The recurrent mentions of the necromancer caused Fane to frown as he looked aside at Faye, leaning his hips back onto one of the many surfaces he folded his arms loosely. âSo everything before then is intact?â He worried his lip in thought, was there any link to the things that had happened that night? But then why had it taken this long to come about?
âAnd the murderous witches.â There was humour in his tone despite the grim implications of the story heâd mentioned, though he couldnât entirely help how the similarities struck him between both their situation and the fictional ones in said story. His fingers rested idly against his neck, rubbing in thought as he dwelt on the issue issue at hand. There were other things that had come as a consequence of Fayeâs pet project, a degree of disconnect between the both of them emotionally and physically that had taken its toll. But there were more pressing matters than those.
âSo maybe cross reference meteorite impacts and ley line occurrences? If you hit a cross-sectional ley junction with a burning ball of space rock youâre bound to end up with something pretty hefty.â Maybe even a flower that could cure all things.
âThat wouldnât be any use, if there ever was one it wouldnât be there now... Too many people with the resources to access that.â It was simple logic in his mind, youâd never be the first to such a plant in such a technically empowered country. âBetter to look into the others, if we have a list I could start doing some digging.â
Trail of the Black Star || faye & fane
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faye-savinâ:
âTheyâre going in reverse order. Always in reverse.â She pointed at the small list sheâd begun to make on the page Fane had turned to. âAnd in sets of three memories within a span of about 48 hours. It um⌠it doesnât happen everyday. Sometimes only once or twice a week. But when it does, I know thereâll be three of them before that cycle is done.âÂ
She nodded that scratching out anything to do with her physical health was a plus. And honestly, other than a bit more tired than usual at times, Faye felt fine. As for the orchid itself, she didnât know much. Only what sheâd read. She was going to see Iann at some point, to see if he knew anything else. âItâs an orchid that grows in stardust. Or⌠something of the sort. Think along the lines of⌠a meteorite impact site. From what I can gather, this orchid can supposedly heal almost any type of magical ailment. The theory is based on the idea that weâre all made of stardust⌠and to dust weâll all return. Add in a bit of magic and a whole lotta luck⌠plus some damn good timing and⌠potion making skills Iâm not sure I even have⌠and well-â She gestured at the book. â- youâve got yourself an elixir thatâll fix whateverâs wrong with my memories.âÂ
It was a long shot, especially since right now it was just a working theory. âIâve found a few meteorite impact sites that might pan out into something.â She pointed to the atlas open on the dais. âYou donât happen to know anyone who might know anything, do you?â she asked him as she tried rubbing the stiffness from her neck.Â
âGoing back how long?â he asked as he scanned through the books his index finger gently dragging down the page as he read the list noted within its contents. Not that this really gave him much of anything, but perhaps they could try and pinpoint where they seemed to begin and end? It was a long shot but perhaps it would do... something.
The elaboration regarding the orchid and where it grew caused him to hum thoughtfully, but his brain unhelpfully provided a single thought when he heard meteorite and stardust in the same sentence together. âSo basically weâre re-enacting that Take That stardust film, but instead of a stone for an engagement ring and finding some haphazardly dazed woman in a crater who is said star... Weâre looking for a flower to well... stop you being that haphazardly confused woman?â Perhaps not the most helpful summary, but it fitted in his mind as the best analogy of what Faye was suggesting they do.
He rubbed his fingers over the short bristles of the beard that he was testing out recently. âOkay, letâs have a look? Are there specific conditions for this flower? Altitudes or the like?â he inquired moving a few of the books out of the way to look at the map set out on the table assuming this was what Faye had been pondering over. âI can ask around, I know people who know people. Iâm sure someone will know something. You canât have a rare mystical flower and absolutely no one knowing about it.â
Trail of the Black Star || faye & fane
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Stefan Josiah Savin (âFaneâ) || English/French transfer student || Highly caffeinated 4th Year Archaeology BA Honours Degree concentrated in Ancient studies. 26
Clubs:Â
Ice hockey captain (centre)
Ex-championship rugby player (lock)Â
Head of the video games club
Fane came to SBSU off the back of a successful education in Oxford, England where he was raised his entire life by his longstanding French-English heritage family. A highly promising athletic career in sport brought crashing to an end following an extremely severe patella fracture, ACL, MCL ligamentous rupture and cartilage damage. Following surgery and a long recovery he was faced with making a life-changing decision and ultimately decided that a new start was perhaps in order.Â
Leaving family behind he crossed the ocean and took up a position on SBSUâs archaeology program slightly later than most (as history was always a separate passion in his spare time). Now in his fourth year he has concentrated on Ancient Egyptian history and spends a majority of his time in the library. Alongside this he also runs the video games club and captains the successful ice hockey team playing himself at centre finding and finding himself quite at home on the ice.
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If you remember that ask about your favorite body of water, it's supposed to signify how you perceive sex! What do you think of your answer now?
âUuuuh-- Howâs... Iâm not sure I understand how the two are... related?â
âBut I suppose you could say the two are perceived as both wild and natural in their beauty. They both carve a point of connection for all those experiencing that particular beauty. Maybe? Iâm not very philosophical on the matter honestly.â
#answered#savin speaks#// am I a dumbass for not knowing this?? xD#// is this common knowledge?????#Anonymous
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Choose a beloved cartoon of your younger years: who is your character most like in it?
Cartoons werenât a thing in my âyounger yearsâ, but when Dani was younger they enjoyed watching Avatar: The Last Airbender and I have to say I rather enjoyed that one.
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How would you describe your favourite body of water (ie a pond or river or ocean, etc)?
I remember travelling once in Spring through the western border of Slovenia and northeastern side of Italy. Thereâs a river there, known as the SoÄa or Isonzo itâs the most emerald bodies of water I think Iâve ever set eyes upon. And when the sun hits those waters they just seem to sparkle. There was nothing better than sitting down and just enjoying the sight of it.
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collettemackenzieâ:
âWell, I mean most of my things arenât really sentimental to me. I salvaged things from the battlefield with the hope to give them back to the families they belong to.â Collette hesitated a moment, ashamed that sheâd been too distracted in the past. âBut I never managed-â She caught herself when she realised what Mr Savin had said. Did he really not think she owed them something? Sheâd ruined his reputation at the very least.Â
âSome of those stuffy old scholars can end careers,â she said, a little quieter. âItâs not fair of me to ruin yourâs.âÂ
Her eyes brightened when Fane asked to see her collection anyway. âBring a camera. You can document it, if you like. Even if you donât want any of the real thing.âÂ
âItâs still a part of your history, whether itâs yours or not itâs hardly something Iâd ever claim to have ownership of.â Still, there was a small idea that brewed in his mind at the idea of returning some of the objects. âWhat if I could help you track the records of who those items do belong to? It might not be the true owners but most are bound to have descendents. I could probably do some digging and see if I could find any records following the battle.âÂ
âSome of them can,â he agreed but ultimately he tipped a shoulder and smiled good-naturedly. âBut Iâd point out itâs hardly your fault for any decision I ultimately ended up making. Plus, I think itâs high time I found something else to pass my days. Iâm almost as old as some of those fossils I study anyhow.âÂ
âSure thing,â he agreed to the offer of being able to document the collection. âHowâd you get here? Could always give you a lift back if you need it?â
Moral Theft || Fane and Collette
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faye-savinâ:
Faye could make the excuse that sheâd simply lost track of how much time had passed. Which was partly true. As was the fact that sheâd thought it would be something that passed on itâs own, not something that was going to get worse. But there was no room for excuses. Not now. Not when Faye was so clearly ill at ease, and not when Fane was clearly so upset and worried, both for his wife and for not being told sooner.Â
It had been a mistake to keep things from him, Faye knew in hindsight. But she wasnât immune to mistakes. Neither of them were. Working through them was what mattered. Working through them and learning from them. So when Fane wrapped his arms around her, Faye wrapped her around him just as tightly. Even when she faltered, he was there. Even when she did something that hurt him, he was there. Just as she was for him.Â
âI donât know...â Faye sniffed wetly. âBut every memory is either related to you or him in some way.â Faye didnât know what the true connection was yet, but there had to be one. A root memory that all the other memories sprang from. The problem with that was that there were things Faye didnât know. Things she hadnât been told. A missing memory from a night when for the briefest of moments, Fayeâs spark had gone out. It had been rekindled, but at a cost that was only now taking affect.Â
But that was still a great unknown.Â
She wiped her eyes as Fane stepped towards the journal Miguel had helped her start to create. Clearing her throat, she tried to shake some of the fog from her head and put her thoughts in some sort of order. Stepping towards her husband, she put a hand on his back to let him know sheâd heard his acknowledgement of her fear, and that she would try her best to be straightforwards from now on.Â
âItâs not⌠physiological.â She tapped the medical texts. âMiguel made sure I had a CT-scan and an MRI. Thereâs nothinâ wrong with my head. Despite how many times Iâve nearly gotten my skull cracked.â Faye pushed the mostly useless books aside. The journal Fane was looking through started about two weeks prior, and contained a list of times, dates, and the associated memory, all neatly written by the magic of the journal. âThe only other thing Iâve found that might be useful in fixing things is this.â She pointed to another book on rare magical flora and fauna.Â
âHave you ever heard of a Black Star Orchid?âÂ
âStrange,â he sounded a frown downturning his features into a worried look of concern. Because he didnât understand why or how this would have come to pass. There being aspects to some events that he didnât know himself. Such as Fayeâs meeting with Persephone during that horrible time last year, a time heâd much much rather forget than ever dwell on again.Â
He lightly brushed his fingers over the binding of the journal, cautiously pulling the cover open to inspect the contents curiously. Feeling the brush of her her hand he glanced back at her waiting for some clarification on what it was sheâd been working on. And anything that he might be able to help with.
âWell... Thatâs good isnât it?â Fane said to it not being physiological, it meant that it was something else, something that had to have some sort of fix or something of the sort. There was always something to counter leeching magic, or there almost always was.Â
âNever,â he commented of this strange sounding flora, turning to look at the book she pointed out. âWhatâs it meant to do? And whereâs it located?â Because if they needed one then heâd damn well do whatever it took to get them one. âWhat do you think itâll do?â
Trail of the Black Star || faye & fane
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ianncarderoâ:
âCâmon - itâs like riding a bike,â Iann encouraged, because he couldnât help making the joke. But when he realized that Fane was smashing his own knees against the handlebars, he wiggled the vampireâs shoulders.  âUse that core that Fayeâs always bragging over and stand up, man. Havenât you ever - no never mind.â The idea of Fane Savin on an urban BMX was likely not ever a thing. Although the image of Savin in neon 90s city street wear was an image that flashed in Iannâs mind, and he kind of loved it. If only for the stress relief.
Besides, despite his knee-bashing, the vampireâs speed more than made up for his initial struggle as they were able to speed through the forest track. Iann bent over and hugged Fane tightly around the neck with one arm, his feet sometimes coming right off the spokes so he had to be careful not to slip.  âThank god you donât need to breathe,â Iann stammered gratefully, or else Iann wouldâve bene choking the life out of him. He had to keep his other hand free though, to slash and swipe and anything that lurched out of the forest, trying tm grab at the. Some swipes were from claws and pawsâŚbut some looked desperately humanoid.
Iann decided not to tell Fane about this, until they hopefully reached the hot springs.
There wasnât much opportunity to ask follow-up questions once Fane took off down the hill. They were so close, Iann could smell the watery sulphurous mineral smell, although it did have a certain standing-water rank rot smell to it that he was sure Fane would pick up on much keener than him.  âWeâre getting close,â Iann said, âI think ââ
But he didnât have time to finish, because the front wheel of the bike suddenly popped, air squeezing out of it as Iann toppled off and into a bush. They were so close, about a (real) football field away.
And then the cries started up again, near the stinking springs.: âMy son! Please! Please Andrei, help me!â Â
âNow is not the time for puns Cardero,â Fane warned despite how a part of him really just wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this whole situation happened to be. Being chased by weird mutant creature things screaming with the voice of his mother while hurtling down muddy forest paths with Iann Cardero latched to his back. Â
He was forced to stand on the pedals eventually, unable to continue as they were sitting down because ultimately heâd have no kneecaps by the end of this otherwise.Â
âIronically not the first time Iâve been told that,â he said as the terrain flattened out a bit and he was able to pick up a little more speed once again to get them ahead of the mutts chasing them down. With the additional speed they skidded down another path, the wheels rolling up a verge and momentarily sending the bike airborne over one of the many sulphurous ponds before it landed jarringly on the other side (only eased fractionally by the suspension), momentarily wobbled precariously prior to them continuing onwards.Â
It wasnât to last, and as the wheel popped Fane struggled to keep balance as the bike hurtled on. Iannâs toppling off only compounding the difficulty of controlling the bike and causing him too to fall off and land face first in a muddy puddle. Rolling over he took a mental stock, both arms? Check, both legs? check, Iann Cardero walking human disaster? Fane rolled over, wiping mud out of his eyes but noting the rough trajectory the other man must have covered. Kicking the now useless bike away, Fane hurried over grabbing Iannâs jacket and yanking him up.
The screams drew his attention, but unlike earlier, Fane knew better. Or hoped he did. âCome on, move it,â he ordered gruffly.
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faye-savinâ:
Though both stubborn in their own way, it wasnât often that Faye butted heads with her husband. It was even more rare that they outright argued. But even less common than that was Faye keeping things from Fane. Or vice versa. She couldnât remember the last time sheâd not been fully open about something. But she also couldnât remember the last time sheâd been this scared, other than when sheâd lost her magic that first time. But Fane hadnât been around for that, had he? Or so a bitter, irrational little voice inside Fayeâs head whispered. She shut it down, because that wasnât fair to him.Â
And neither was this. Because Fane was right: it was his decision. And Faye had been making them for him for nearly a month now. Even though she knew better than anyone how he felt about having his choices taken away. And Fane knew that too. So it was well past time for her to stop. She never should have begun in the first place. Even if Faye was telling the truth when she said it had never been her intention to keep anything from him. Things had simply⌠spiraled. Not an excuse, of course, but a reason nonetheless.Â
So Faye confessed. She confessed, and then waited on him to process it. Like Faye, Faneâs posture initially grew more tense, and Faye recognized the signs of how conflicted he must feel. She knew he was angry with her, and didnât blame him. If the situation had been reversed⌠gods, but she wouldâve been livid. But then he was stepping towards her and wrapping her up and Faye virtually sagged in relief that he was here and he was holding her again and she never wanted it to end. A choked sob found itâs way past the tightness in her throat, and Faye let herself cry for a moment, her arms wrapped tight around her husbandâs waist.Â
âIâm sorry⌠Iâm so sorryâŚâ she murmured. Eventually, she regained control of herself, but didnât pull away from Faneâs hold. Sheâd been distant recently - which was very unlike her, and no fault of Faneâs - and didnât want to let him go just yet. So she told him everything that had been happening, starting from when sheâd first started noticing things about a month prior. She forced herself to tell him everything, about what sheâd been briefly forgetting, about the patterns sheâd potentially found (how the gaps in her memory seemed to be moving in reverse chronological order, and seemed to involve Fane and Carrington in particular), how sheâd been researching human disorders along with magical ones, and how she felt that she was running in circles.Â
âItâs all short-term memory at the moment. And it always comes back. Iâve been⌠Miguel helped me make a journal⌠for recording the things I know Iâve⌠blipped out on⌠so to speak.â Faye tipped her chin to a particular grimoire that sat by itself on her desk. âI just⌠I know itâs somethinâ with my magic. A price for⌠all the times itâs been snatched back and forth. I justâŚâ Faye sighed, the breath that came with it trembling audibly. âIâm scared, Fane.âÂ
It would take some time for him to truly work through the details, that this had been going on for over a month. That she hadnât thought of sharing this for over a month. That in itself was rather disconcerting, of course, he had noticed something was up but this? The thought alone had him tightening his hands and releasing them fractionally.
But ultimately, that didnât matter, because at the end of the day Faye was suffering. Had been suffering alone. Whether deliberately by choice or not she had been, and that was on him. Which meant either stepping up to the plate and helping as much as he could or trying to figure out an alternative route. So, he did the only thing that seemed right in a moment like that. Wrapping his arms around her tight and pulling her in until he felt her own arms lock around him and he felt the first tumultuous sob escape her.Â
âDonât be, donât be...â he hushed her apologies softly from where his mouth was pressed against the wild curl of her hair. And when she began there was no stopping the torrent of information that came from her regarding the recent episodes of memory loss. Though her mention of Carrington and himself did earn a slight frown, âus? Why us?â Not a question he expected Faye to answer, or one he could understand a link for any apparent reason.Â
Her mention of the journal caused his head to turn and Fane to walk over to it, lifting the cover and opening the book up flat so he could inspect its pages. ââCourse you are...â another reason you should have told me, âbut, like with anything weâll find a solution for it. So, what have you found in terms of leads?â
Trail of the Black Star || faye & fane
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faye-savinâ:
Faye started to arrange the fallen papers, but her hand stilled as Fane told her to leave them. She watched as he cycled through some of the books on her desk, naming off the slightly eclectic mix of subjects. âPersonal research,â she told him, though she doubted it made the situation any better. It mightâve even made it worse. Fayeâs tightened her crossed arms, looking down at the floor, for once unable to meet Faneâs gaze.Â
âI know. I know exactly who you are. How could I ever-â But the words cut off right there. Because she had forgotten. Two days go. For over an hour, Faye had forgotten her husband, her marriage. And that scared the hell out of her. âI know that the moment I say anything youâll drop everything to help me. No matter what.â She looked up, her face flushed as if she was trying not to cry. And she was, a little bit.Â
Eventually, Faye spoke, though the words had to be forced past the tightness in her throat. âI never intended for it to go this far. I thought-â She swallowed, frowning slightly. âI thought it would just⌠pass on itâs own. So why worry anybody needlessly, right? Then thereâs the fact that youâre still getting over what happened with Lucien, andâŚâ Her hands squeezed her arms as she hugged herself. âThe truth is⌠I-â Faye hesitated, wondering where in the hell to start.Â
Perhaps it was best just to say it as simply as possibly, and go from there. So Faye took a breath. âIâm⌠forgetting. And I donât know whyâŚâ Â
Some things could be helped, others not so much. âNo, noâ he said firmly giving her a stern look âno you donât with this whole... personal research... No more vagueries regardless of whether youâre doing it intentionally or not. Iâve had it Faye, you tell me whatâs going on right now.â
The way she cut herself off was more telling than anything else that happened in the space of those moments, confusion coloured his expression as he tried to understand what it was she meant. âYes, of course I bloody will because youâre my wife and even if I do thatâs my decision to make.â And if there was one thing Fane took quite seriously it was making his own decisions. So this was... it was worrying, combined with the static tension in her posture and avoidance of her gaze it all amounted into telling him something was very, very wrong.
There was a long silence as Faye spoke, and a part of him wanted to interject. Even opened his mouth to do so but eventually shut it. Because what she admitted sent a chill straight down to his bones, his arms folded fractionally tighter as he brain processed the information. But when he did finally speak, his voice was quiet âyou shouldâve told me Faye...â And as much as a part of him railed at the fact he hadnât been told, it was outweighed by his concern for her well-being. Stepping forward he picked up pace until his long arms engulfed her in a tight wrap, a hug that said everything is going to be okay. âYouâre going to have to... explain everything to me. Then... tell me what youâve found...â
Trail of the Black Star || faye & fane
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