• Solo • Whittle Your Worries Away

Almund is a thriving township with a dark side. With houses made from the wooden bodies of decommissioned ships, there are many opportunities here, coupled with many dangers.

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Korva
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Posts: 372
Joined: Fri Nov 09, 2018 4:47 am
Race: Biqaj
Profession: Fisherman/Woodworker
Renown: +65
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Whittle Your Worries Away

Mon Jan 07, 2019 11:47 pm

95th of Vhalar, 718
*Speaking Rakahi
*Speaking Common


It had been days since her last attempt at carving but after seeing Almunds works the drive was stronger, she could just imagine her sloop covered in them. Days since she’d arrived in Almund, days since she’d been to chicken to leave not a toe touching the water. Not to mention she couldn’t steer when every movement send a blur of pain and who was to say that sulking on her ship with a shirt as a bandage was going to prevent the mer from finding her. Plus she still had the necklace to return to the girl. A small smile curved her lips at that imagining how excited the girl would be when she brought it back only a little sea rusted for the wear. All this to prove a false story true but it wouldn’t be Korvas first time and was unlikely to be the last.

But she couldn’t sit all day and not bring in coin, her sides and hands were still banged up enough that hauling in fish would be as stupid as it had been to use her net on thralls in the first place. Stupid to leave her wood out too but now, swollen as it was, at the very least it was dry. Enough for her to finish what she started. Korva would just have to actually get to it but like before it was an easy thought, easier thought than done even as she curled up on her bed, tools in hand.

Her eyes slipped closed then when they opened the sliver had bled enough to leak down her face like rain. “One day, I was gonna teach ya this? You were gonna lay right here with me…with Rivan.”

Her voice cracked as she made her first scrape of the wood, to say his name was like carving out her own heart but it felt good. In a way she hadn’t let herself feel in so long. To say it and not have the guilt that accompanied it, just the past wishes, wishes of times she’d ran from and wouldn’t come anyway. Licking salt from her lips, she continued to speak to the wood, the lull of her own voice easing some of the tension in her grip.

“‘Course that ain’t gonna happen now, ya went home to U’frek ‘fore I even could…ya were so little.” The words grew softer, soft as the edges so struggled to round, the angle wrong but the swollen wood giving in easier than she’d thought. A small rotation of the wrist was all it took to shave off the edges, the more she shaved the easier the motion became. “Ya woulda been small like this, maybe smaller. Woulda been able to—to hold ya like this and see yer feet. Small feet like yer ma’s.”

A strange giggle left Korva at the thought, an echo of feet she would hear as she rounded the bottom. An oval. Just an oval with no feet but she could remedy that even if she couldn’t remedy herself.
**Made by the wonderful Kes
word count: 543
ન'ઊળઇ૯ ૧એ૪ઇ૮ ઔનઌઈઇ પઇ, પબ ઇબઇ૮ ૯રશ૧ મકઇ ૧એબ. --Korva
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Korva
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Posts: 372
Joined: Fri Nov 09, 2018 4:47 am
Race: Biqaj
Profession: Fisherman/Woodworker
Renown: +65
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Re: Whittle Your Worries Away

Sat Jan 12, 2019 10:15 pm

*Speaking Rakahi
*Speaking Common


The pain in her sides as she laughed was enough to ground her, as she slowly etched a circle into the grain of the wood. It wasn’t deep enough to be permanent but it was just enough to show her where the lines would be, like drawing on it before following the design. She’d never done so before but now—now she wanted it to be perfect. In her minds eye she could just imagine the blanket she would’ve used, more a net than a blanket but traditional for her and hers. If she closed her eyes she could even pretend the arm length piece of wood was truly the weight of her child.

“Ya know, I never did name ya.” The words slipped out without consent, “Yer sister or brother but ya and the next…thought it’d be easier to not. ‘Course now I’m sorry I done that, didn’t have no name to put on the stone we threw, just a three. Maybe two, don’t even know which ya are, that’s why names important.”

Carefully she swirled the knife then reach for another to trying and make finer lines, around it swirled drawing her eyes as she drew a blanket to swaddled all but the feet and a hand. A face. The face made her pause for there would be no lines to trace, how would she draw what she’d never gotten to see properly?

“Ain’t even got to hold ya.” Her voice was coarse as sand, the words dribbling from her lips as she dug the blade in farther. It slipped, slicing cleaning across the top of her hand. Korva flinched but didn’t stoped, just slowed again, breathing ragged as the dug in the lines of the swaddled infant. “They took ya away so—so fast—ya just—popped—out like a fish.”

Both the wood and knife fell from her fingers as a dry sob threatened to rip form her throat like a scream. More of a dying wail but still she could not bring herself to let go of the pain the same way she’d let go of her tool. She could only watch as her blood dripped onto the deck, staining it, memories swirling behind her ever changing eyes as she struggled to pull composure back.

Though it seemed composure would allude her, not to be had that day as the swept the wood into her arms, rocking it a she bit her lip violently. No one, not even the sound of waves around her able to comfort her in this moment. It was hers and she clung to it like it was the only thing holding her together.

As she pulled in air like a drowning man, her sides burned, and she could feel the warmth of a few opening scabs. It would stain her red and she stained the deck, perhaps could even stain the seas red as the rain had done all those days before. And as much as she loved her ship, Korva wouldn’t care, wouldn’t care because she couldn’t get a child a necklace without near death, wouldn’t care because she couldn’t even carve a piece of wood properly, wouldn’t care because—because—

She wouldn’t care because the Biqaj couldn’t seem to do a damn thing right.
**Made by the wonderful Kes
Last edited by Korva on Mon Jan 14, 2019 5:00 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 583
ન'ઊળઇ૯ ૧એ૪ઇ૮ ઔનઌઈઇ પઇ, પબ ઇબઇ૮ ૯રશ૧ મકઇ ૧એબ. --Korva
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Korva
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Re: Whittle Your Worries Away

Mon Jan 14, 2019 4:54 am

*Speaking Rakahi
*Speaking Common


The Biqaj woman couldn’t say how long she sat on the sloop, clutching the would be wooden infant in her arms. No tears would fall just dry anguish that roiled in her stomach like churning, the undertow threatening to drown her again, her chest hurt from sucking in too much or too little air. But it was exhausting, even for her, to hold it so tightly inside. The whole point was to release some right into the water swelled wood, to take out some of what she couldn’t bare to hold onto any longer and yet, and yet there she was. Curled up on the deck just like she curled in bed all those years ago, useless and disappointing. And in the back of her mind there was the ever present thought of how it wouldn’t breathe, wouldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe.

The mantra went through her head, somehow soothing as she came back up from wherever she’d been drowning. The sudden splash of a boat docking nearby sending salt into her face making her feel like she truly was for a minute. “U’frek…thank ya.”

The pinch of salt drying on her skin as it chilled in the ever cooling afternoon was enough to force her back to reality. Our of the trench she’d buried herself into face…face a piece of wood. Wood that would never actually be a child. Not hers anyway. No matter what she wished or pretended or thought. It was a work of art, one she could sell away, giving away parts of her grief till there was none left to give. But there’d be nothing to give away if she didn’t finish.

Still, it took several beats for her hands to steady, to reach for the sanding blocks in confusion, not sure exactly what she would do yet except that blankets were not rough so the edges had to be smoothed out. The process wasn’t one Korva had used before, buying the blocks on a whim but it was a soothing, simple task. Slide it with the grain and it lifted less, cut away the sharp points of her harsh whittle work until it could almost be a lumpy, wrapped blanket around an oval with hands and feet. Though with her work it was more like twigs placed awkwardly but in her minds eye it was beautiful and exactly what she’d wanted at the start. Even if she hadn’t liked it, the fading daylight said she only had a bit of time before it would be too late to finish another. That prospect pushed her from fear of mer, from fear of her own failures to working, distraction from the pain, rolling into the next task, the next wood, the next thing she could sink her sharp tools into to ease that which wouldn’t fade away.

The second came easier than the first, the motions coming quicker with the repetition, the burning daylight forcing her to work quicker, sloppier but with no less ferocity of emotions. Throughout the process her eyes kept a steady silver that only eased to softer colors as the finished pieces were set side by side, the twilight hiding their imperfections.

A part of her wanted to name them as she hadn’t trusted herself to before but that would almost take away the meaning, after-all, she’d never named these two. “Just two more, just little ones, that’s all ya were. All ya are. My little ones.”

As she crept below deck, exhausted with pieces in hand Korva didn’t fight the waves of everything that swept over her, her legs ready to give out. So she did what she did best, collapsed on top of the bed and let it roll, let it roll right off until it could slip away through the cracks. Slip away and hopefully never come back. But the dampening pillow said otherwise as the woman was finally able to let her eyes fall shut, both wooden carvings tucked against her.
**Made by the wonderful Kes
word count: 699
ન'ઊળઇ૯ ૧એ૪ઇ૮ ઔનઌઈઇ પઇ, પબ ઇબઇ૮ ૯રશ૧ મકઇ ૧એબ. --Korva
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Kesindir
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Re: Whittle Your Worries Away

Sat Jan 19, 2019 6:20 pm

Thread Rewards

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Korva

Overview

Man, the feels in this one. Poor Korva. From the odd giggle talking about the tiny feet to not naming the child. It all felt real. I could feel her heartache even as she fell on the bed with her completed carvings. You write the twisted up and broken feelings of Korva so well. There were a couple grammatical errors, but didn't detract from the writing at all. Well done and well written, as always. Enjoy your rewards!

Points

10

Loot & Renown

Loot: Two simple unnamed wood carvings.

Injuries

Nicks on hands

Knowledge

Woodworking: How to curve edges
Woodworking: Making circles
Woodworking: Sanding to soften edges
Woodworking: Etching in designs first
Woodworking: Sanding as finishing work
Deception: Lying to yourself about being okay
If you have any questions of comments regarding your review feel free to PM me and we can chat! I'll add a stamp to your completed request found here
word count: 162
Kesindir: "Spoken word in Rakahi"
"Spoken word in Common"
Thought
Others: "Spoken word"


"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived....I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life." ~ Henry David Thoreau
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