middaeg | If you're going through hell, keep going.

Who: Red Wine & YOU
When: Second half of Feb
Where: Around Aef.
What: Some open things
Warnings: None yet

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i. Quest #1 - Part-timers Wanted! (Inkspell)

[It's a soothing, quiet thing to be doing, and Red Wine sinks into it with very little complaint. He spends a few hours every other day in the shop, mostly rewriting books damaged beyond repair. His own handwriting is careful, neat, elegant, and he even takes the time to replicate the illuminated initials in some of the older texts.

Now and then, though, he runs out of one ink or another and looks to the person sitting nearest--]

Do you have any of the red left?

ii. Out of the City (Fighter)

[As it turns out, this is a good way to work of his latent aggression... and said aggression has only grown worse since his 'death' and full slide into becoming a vampire. If the daylight makes him feel weak, he doesn't show it, though those who know him well would be able to spot the slower reaction times and the way he occasionally pauses and winces as if his head hurts.

He's fierce enough in battle, kind and quiet when dealing with those who are already infected, and always on hand to calm a panicked child or march someone away from somewhere they were about to create a scene.

In down-time, such as it is, Red Wine is silent and thoughtful and spends his time sharpening his sword or reading a book. Now and then, he simply looks morosely thoughtful.]

No one should have to live like this.

iii. Home (open to housemates, visitors)

[Living with Caren Ortensia and the others in the house isn't something Red Wine would have really had in mind when he first arrived here... but it seems like a natural thing to do now. After their residence burned to cinders in the fires when the kidnappings occurred, Red Wine and Steak had both been almost homeless, living in the barracks until their move here.

And it's better. He'd missed having some privacy and a place for himself. He'd realised, too, that he'd sorely missed having some sense of luxury and comfort.

So, when he's home, he spends his time either sleeping (usually during the day), reading in the shade near one of the windows, or spending time outside around dawn and dusk. In truth, he isn't there all that much and is quiet when he is, but he takes care to keep the door of his room locked.]

iv. DiplomaTea (outdoors)

[He shoots occasional glances to the quiet bookstore beside the tea shop, his expression unreadable. Aziraphale had been one of very few people here that he would actively seek the company of, and he's been noticing the loss.

He has, though, retrieved the book he had put together for the angel and continues to work on it while sitting outside the tea shop, unheeding of the cold. Funny, how he used to hate it... now it just doesn't bother him.

Catching the eye of someone hesitating near the outdoor tables, he tips his head towards the front door.]

It's open. Go on in.

v. The Habour District

Yes, let me know if you get any scrap.

[Some of the people at the harbour still regard Red Wine with no small amount of suspicion, but he's managed to forge out some contacts and "business acquaintances" (not friends, though people he can turn to if necessary) along the docks since his arrival. Looking terribly out of place in his fancy clothing with the sword belted to his hip, he still manages to make the sailors and dock workers laugh with off-colour jokes and sharp wit.

There are a few, though, who would rather that he didn't keep showing his face in the area. A small group of them follow him as he leaves one of the shops he's more friendly with, and he pretends not to see them as he walks along beside the water in the gathering darkness. He rests his hand on his sword hilt while he walks, ready to draw it the moment they try to cause any trouble.

Maybe you'll join him... or maybe you'll be the one to start the trouble?]

vi. Wildcard

[Hit me with a top-level!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I don't have a need to.

[He taps his pen back and forth against the open pages in front of him. The shop is a comforting enough place, a quiet one, and the proprietor doesn't give him the impression of someone who stands for nonsense despite seeming to be full enough of it himself. Red Wine likes Everett well enough, and spending time here usually allows him to keep an eye on a certain employee of the place.

Not that he cares about what Steak does in his work hours. He's just here to be annoying.

Red Wine places his pen down and closes the book over it, though it won't shut completely around the bulk of the pen.]

Are you looking for someone?

[L's eyes flick to the book on the table, and he takes a step closer, trying to get a better look.]

I could just be a patron, here for a cup of tea, but... is that why you're here? Looking for someone?

[He cants his head and squints. The book isn't completely closed, after all, and his eyesight's pretty good for a guy who stared at a computer screen in the dark for so many years.]

No.

[He notes the eyes cast towards his book, but doesn't close it. The pages are being filled with every story and myth he can recall from the land he came from, and even from before that. His exact memories from before his summoning are foggy and fragmented but there, and they become clearer the more he thinks about them.]

I know exactly where he is. [Red Wine tips his head slightly towards the shop door.] But I'm only here for the ambience.

[L, who as a rule does not adhere strongly to the typical rules and niceties that social conventions typically conform to, takes this as an opportunity to draw even closer, get a more pointed look at what Red Wine is working on.]

The ambience, and the cold, perhaps?

[Because it cuts right through him, and he considers himself to have a high tolerance for things like chill and discomfort.]

Mm. I haven't really been noticing the cold.

[Which is... funny, really, but he hasn't thought too much about it. He's always been more opposed to being to warm than too cold, anyway.

The further attempts to look at what he's writing don't go unnoticed, but it's no secret. He turns the book towards him.]

Go ahead.

[L leans in shamelessly now that it's clear Red Wine is making no true effort to conceal his writings. Maybe that means it's mundane, but it could also be a cool and collected front for something damning. Either way, L's curiosity is practically a force of nature, and resisting it is difficult for him and others.]

Your memoirs? Or are you a novelist?

[The styles seems, at least as a glance, like a narrative.]

No, not in the slightest.

[He looks down to the pages, scanning over the neat, elegant script. He's been taking his time with it, but the true nature of his handwriting shows itself in the occasional spike or slant of a letter where his concentration slipped.]

Someone who is no longer here was awaiting a book of tales from my homeland. I thought I might as well finish what I'd started.

[It does in fact look like something Red Wine would take pride in, from the painstaking hand to the level of detail presented in the narrative. While he's not himself a writer, it embodies qualities that L respects and admires. Not to mention...]

You're going against what comes naturally here. So much must remain unfinished, by unfortunate necessity.

[Beginning, and certainly not ending, with the relationships they might have months or mere weeks to explore and understand.]

I find that most of what happens here goes against what I consider to be 'natural'. If something I do pushes back against that, then so be it.

[There's something faintly curt in that reply. Not aimed at the man himself, but rather at the topic and the nature of it. He runs his thumb along the corner of one of the pages.]

Besides. It does me good to ground myself in familiar things.

Nothing's more natural than patterns, in any world or system. Eventually... you do find that they emerge. Sometimes, they're even comforting, as your own personal establishment of familiarity

[He moves to take a seat, though he's not nearly as mindless of the cold, probably can't remain unbothered for as long as his companion. The way his body is curled and tucked into itself, with his knees against his chest, helps a bit.]

Who were they? The person this was intended for. I might have known them.

If you're going through hell, keep going.

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