daybreakacademy | At Death's Doorstep

Who: Ekkehardt and whoever signed up to go on this fun trip right here.
What: Ekkehardt takes a group of people back to his family's base in the Outlands, and then takes an even smaller group of people into the underworld.
Where: Outlands.
When: Mid-May
Warnings: Death, potential backstory trauma. Will be updated if anything comes up.
Notes: Doing your own toplevels is absolutely fine! Let me know if you need NPC involvement for your threads.

Passage to House Gehring's territory is ultimately a simple matter, and while it involves some transit time, it's smooth overall. The living quarters for patients and guests have been refurbished and built out to accommodate extra people since Ekkehardt's last extended visit; an addition made especially for Héctor's undead family. House Gehring's base of operations looks and feels far more like an especially large, cosy house than a protective bastion.

The supposed passage to the underworld is much less hospitable. It's a yawning cavern far beneath the house; water from some vast lake or river in the world below laps near-silently at a shore decorated with silent statues, all facing out towards the darkness. An ancient-looking longboat with a lit lamp at the prow, moored to nothing at all, floats there. Their passage is expected, it seems.

And as for the underworld itself...
Eventually, the boat cuts into an impossibly still lake, and Ekkehardt steps out, leaving the boat behind. It's possible to walk on the water, though it takes concentration not to sink, at least at first. With every step you take, flowers bloom, leaving a trail.
And all around, above and below, are stars. And if you walk long enough, you might encounter ghosts, of a sort - of the people you used to be, predominantly. Fragments of your past selves that no longer exist. But if their own feelings were strong enough, you might even meet the ghosts of those who were once important to you - or still are.

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[There's a certain power to her. That, he can tell before he's even close. She feels bigger than she is in a way that is hard to describe but undeniable. And yet, by all means, she appears gentle. He's not afraid.

He walks to her, flowers blooming behind him as slowly as Ekkehardt's path does. He stands before her with a sort of breathless anticipation. It's a nervousness that he's felt before, distinctly in the realm of wanting to be accepted.

And then, before her, with his bony knuckles over his empty ribcage, he bows low.]

Muerte...

[She's not his death. He knows that somewhere in his core. He is not one of those back home who venerated death. But Death had woven its way into his life, perhaps from the start. Despite all his running from final death, he has nothing but respect.]

[ She observes him for a moment, and then smiles, as much as a skeleton can deliberately smile. First a woman who constantly flirts with death (both literally and metaphorically, it seems), then a man who flees from it...Ekkehardt has certainly brought some interesting visitors to her. ]

Greetings.

You've come quite a long way to meet me, haven't you, viajero? But your journey has not yet reached its end, even so.

[The type of skeleton he is, it's much easier to see the flicker of a smile on his own face as he pulls out of his bow.]

Si. A very long way.

[From Mexico, then Europe, the Outlands, and around again.]

I'm here on behalf of my friends, but I have to admit, I did want to meet you regardless.

[Such an ironic thing for him to say, he's aware.]

Do you mind if I address you? I know I'm not exactly one of yours...

You have no need to worship me for me to accept you.

[ If she finds that comment about wanting to meet her ironic in any way, she doesn't show it. ]

Is there something you would like to ask? Or to say? You are free to speak in whatever way you wish.

Edited 2020-05-19 17:29 (UTC)

[It's a bit of relief, her first answer. He's grateful for it, even as he waffles on getting to the point.]

Everone has their time-- even the undead. There's no reason I should be an exception over anyone else. Yet, this chance I have, I'm grateful for it, but I need more time. I understand that death too can be a gift. I want to explain myself, to say im not pushing it away for fear of it, but holding it off. I have to, for my daughter. My family.

Please forgive me. I will be ready. Just not yet.

[ She listens carefully, and then holds up a hand, after a moment. ]

All beings struggle in their desire for life. Most will wash down the river, in their own time.

I do not seek to cage you or command you. I am not kept waiting by your absence. You have no need to ask my forgiveness.

Do you truly see me as a hunter pursuing you in the dark, or something that must be begged for more time?

[ Her words are polite, though there's a sense of sadness to it. A kind of odd disappointment, that he should be so wary of admonishment or retribution. ]

[His shoulders hike. The guilt that was already there multiplies.]

No. I don't.

[And yet he supposes he is wary, in a way. He pulls a breath.]

I feel like a thief. Like I've cheated. I don't know why I'm still here. I don't know how. Everyone wants more time and so many people really do lose out. I've got this and I'm still going about like it's not enough. If I've not insulted you, then I must be throwing it all in the faces of those who had less.

You're not a hunter. I see you as someone who's calling me home... while I keep running.

[ That gets a soft sound that's almost a laugh. It sounds like a bell, ringing deep underwater. ]

If a starving creature is given food to sate their hunger, if water is given to those who thirst, does that make them thieves? You pursue life for the sake of another and for yourself. You do no more or less than any mortal would.

Do not concern yourself with the thoughts of other lives, and other time. That is not your burden to carry.

[ She beckons for him to come closer. ]

[The answer he gets is merciful. In a way, it's more than he feels he deserves. But he's grateful.

She beckons him and he steps closer, curious and uncertain, and a little in aw of her.]

You intend to travel far. You wish for enough time to be able to meet with those you love. They are wonderful desires.

But there is something you have not noticed. Someone, and something, that draws death close to you. They are tied together, and they tie you together. So beware.

[ She plucks a flower from the ones that grow around her seat. As it breaks free, its glassy petals glow a warm gold. The stem dissolves into fluid.

She offers him the flower, in her open palms. It floats on a pool of dark water. ]

This flower is the symbol of the words I have said to you. Live freely, with what time you have left. Do not think of being thief or burden. That is all.

[The bone of his brow furrows in confusion, in no small amount of fear. Something... someone? But...

His hand goes to his arm, to the rune Sarona engraved in him, the ability to channel his blight into something like radiance, something that would protect against the monsters that would twist the dead. It's all he can think of besides Rex.

But he watches her pluck that flower, watching the way it changes from pretty paleness to the warmth he knows, the light that makes him up and the color that calls, as one of the dead and one longing for home.

His hand drops from his arm and he reaches out to take it, not knowing how he'll hold the water in his hands like this, but knowing that the flower, at least, he can capture. The heart absent from his chest aches as he looks up at her. Before her, he bows low.]

Gracias, Muerte. From my soul, thank you. Truly.

At Death's Doorstep

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