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

Entry tags:

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!]

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[ Working part time at the Inkspell was helping Chise to settle in to her new surroundings. While she would keep to herself she always made sure to leave space at her table should anyone need a place to work. Upon hearing Red Wine speak up, she shifted her gaze from the page she was currently rewriting, her pen stilling for a moment.

She nodded to him and reached over with her free hand to lift the bottle of red ink to offer to him. ]

Here. I won't be needing it for now.

[ Look, she's only been here a couple of weeks, and without most of her magic tricks to boot. While Trucy Wright is no slouch, and she's certainly been doing what she can to get her name out there, returning to DiplomaTea just for a drink might be a little out of her current budget.

Which is why she's contenting herself with just looking inside, catching the occasional drift of the scent of tea and flowers. It really is pretty here! ]

Huh?

[ That voice... Wait! ]

It's you!

[ The guy she spilled chocolate on! ]

[At least she wasn't trying to barricade anyone into their rooms anymore. It might have gotten awkward with Red Wine.

But no, Caren was trying to get better. It wasn't easy; she had to bundle herself not to catch a chill, there were reminders of her pain on her wrists, on her neck, her hands needed to be covered. She was still rather quiet herself.

But Red Wine not turning on the charm at every moment was...particular. She didn't understand what was going through his mind.

So it wasn't that much of a stretch, seeing her coming outside to find Red Wine in the garden. The sun had already set; what was left were streaks left in the sky.]

Is there anything you need before leaving for the evening?

[She could ask what he was up to. She could also pry and pout and a number of other things. Instead, she stood near the backdoor of the mansion she had so carefully maintained, and had welcomed into the house.

And she looked tired. Tired and expressionless.]

[She already knows how it is with them already - the whole house knows by now. The shouting, the occasional bumps and thuds of someone being shoved into something, the ridiculous pranks when they're both in better moods, the constant insults. The ring of steel before one of them - usually Red Wine - snaps something about not fighting in the house. But Red Wine has been peculiarly subdued outside of those outbursts, with few knowing him well enough to realise it.

The sun, which he's never particularly liked in any case, has become more of an irritant than ever. He finds some comfort in the dim light of dusk, however, and has only been outside for a few minutes when Caren joins him.

Quickly, he turns a small smile on her and shifts as if making room for her to join him, though there's already plenty of space on the bench.]

Did you expect I'd be going somewhere? [He asks mildly, and tucks his dark hair behind one pointed ear. His attention lingers on her for a few moments, taking in her expression, then he pats the spot next to him with the tips of two fingers.]

Join me.

[L's not exactly a regular here; he doesn't like to keep his patterns too predictable, which comes part and parcel with having a committed and dangerous stalker. But Everett is often here, which means that it's not unusual to see Myr here, and L still rather feels like he needs an excuse to seek out his healthiest relationship's company. In excess, he feels his presence can be an overwhelming and exasperating one, and it's a lot to ask for someone to put up with it for very long, which is why he hasn't stayed in one place for very long throughout most of February.

It's only been a few days since the Wilders mission, and he's hovering about near the tables when he hears Red Wine's urging. He cants his dark head, a willowy and shabby thing whose coat looks rather too thin for him. He lost his nicer one on the mission, and has yet to replace it.]

So, why don't you?

Edited (html fail) 2020-02-20 02:30 (UTC)

[Noctis and Prompto are positively quiet in comparison. Maybe it's all for the better that they're not sharing a bedroom, since there were five of them. But...Red Wine had been far too quiet. He wasn't the loudest person, true-but he seemed like he was far more self contained.

And she didn't like it.

Caren dipped her head in a slight nod, before moving to sit beside him on the bench.]

I thought you would. This doesn't seem like a home to you.

[She fussed a little, if only due to her wings and tail. Even without the floof, she had to make sure not to sit on them.]

Not that I expected it to be right away but...still.

[He smiles briefly when she joins him, then looks out towards where the last touches of the day are still staining the clouds gathered on the horizon. It's chilly, but he can't really feel it anymore.]

No. [Red Wine murmurs after a few moments of thought. He has no intent to hurt her feelings... but he isn't going to lie to her over this, either. He shakes his head.]

Home is somewhere you belong. I don't belong here.

[Not here, not in this place, not in this body. Everything feels wrong and unsettled, and everything he has ever been certain of has been entirely shaken. He sends another of those faint smiles her way.]

But it isn't you. So don't worry.

[Caren is the one that has to pull her coat closer to herself and shiver. It's difficult without her natural insulation.]

I didn't. Hold myself responsible that is. I can't give you happiness. Only you can.

[She sighed, and gently nudged his thigh with her knee.]

However, I am worried for you. I don't know why you leave at night. And I haven't seen you around as such during the day. What's going on?

[He glances down to the nudge, already keeping the way she had shivered in the back of his mind. It must be colder than he realises.]

I'm here, during the day. [Red Wine admits slowly.] Though I usually lock the door.

[Doing so doesn't tend to keep Steak out, though, and he's had to replace the lock once already. When that guy wants some attention... He shoots a sidelong look to Caren.]

At night, I'm usually in the slums, or at the docks. Or out in the Wilde. I... need to feel useful, Caren. You have no idea how much.

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?

[She's also colder then she had been. Her body was still adjusting.]

No, I don't. Because I don't know what it means to be you. I know you've been afraid of turning into something you're not.

[She sighed, staring down at her hands. Emotions kept ping ponging around, but she thought it was from the lack of bond, not due to trauma.]

But I also wonder if you're running away.

[He can't quite help the soft huff of laughter that escapes.]

I'm changing into something I've always feared becoming. Something I have become, here, and I've had no choice in the matter. [The next chuckle is softer, and followed with a faint and rueful smile.]

Food Souls are as much shaped by the expectations of others as the history of our origins. I was always compared to vampires of myth... and over time I began to resemble it. [But he could control it, then. He could express his worries to Steak and be scolded for his dramatics. He could rely on his fr-- on his constant companion to pull him out of the fire no matter how close he got to it.]

But I never ran from it. Just what do you think I'm running from now?

You're not the only one, for certain.

[She sighed and interlaced her fingers.]

But for all that you have been called a vampire, it doesn't make you a vampire. Being told that I appeared like my mother, or a freak doesn't change me.

Being a freak of nature doesn't change my core. No more then becoming a vampire changes who you are.

That doesn't mean you have to be useful. You can simply be.

That's what you're running away from. You're running away from being yourself. There's nothing for you to prove.

[Red Wine fixes his eyes on the distant, rapidly dimming light... and he shakes his head.]

A need to be of use is part of who I am. It's part of who Steak is. Part of any of us, at our core. It's what were summoned for.

[To fight. To protect. To serve. To be of use in any capacity that they're able. Turning away from that purpose has driven many a Food Soul to near-madness and twisted many.]

I've never had to prove anything. That isn't what this is about. [He looks at her, and rests his arm over the back of the bench.] Can I ask you-- what do you think I am? What manner of creature do you believe me to be, in my natural state?

Edited 2020-02-22 23:15 (UTC)

That's not unlike that of humans.

[A part of her that needs to do good to spite that rotten part of her core...but...she sighs, closing her eyes briefly before she shifted her weight, looking at Red Wine's face.]

I don't know. I don't know what you're supposed to be. I've met so many different kinds of people since I arrived, that I cannot make any assumptions anymore.

All I know is what you've shown me as a person, not a creature.

Thank you.

[He takes the bottle, setting it carefully on the table beside him and selecting a fresh pen. A quick glance goes to Chise's progress, and he faintly smiles.

This work is calming, keeps the mind focused, and it's pleasant to know that he isn't the only one who finds value in it.]

It looks good. You'd barely know it had needed to be restored at all.

[The guy she spilled chocolate on. He remembers her, too, but it doesn't look as if she has any hot drinks to bump into him with this time. Or, not yet... but considering where they are, he'll be keeping his wits about him.]

It's me. [He confirms mildly, then tips his head towards the front door of the shop.]

It is open. You can go in.

I'm not a person. Not really.

[Within a broad definition of what a person is..? Yes, he could admit he's a person, after a fashion. But Red Wine isn't human, he is never going to be the same as a human, and... that's the way it is. He doesn't sound remorseful about it.]

I'm a Food Soul. We're... servants. Guards. Weapons. We're driven to want to be needed. To have a use.

[He smiles at her again, grateful for her company.]

So, no, I'm not running away when I leave here at night. I'm just... scratching an itch.

[ She'll be careful this time!!! Besides, it's not like she's got the cash to spare, anyway. ]

I— [ Hm. This is embarrassing. She can't ask daddy or Apollo like she would have back home to spot her a couple of dollars. She can't even pull the double act she and daddy were so good at. ]

[ Okay, Wright. Gameface on. You can put this nicely. ]

I think you need cash to buy things, Mr. Wine.

It is an itch.

[She sighs softly, and stares down at their feet.]

There are those that come from my world that aren't human. Some never were human, but all have rules that they must live by for the short time that they're summoned. You could call them...glass cannons. Familiars. Recycled spirits.

But they're supposed to be incapable of changing from their personalities, their urges, but for the rules that were imposed on them.

However...after watching them for months, I've seen them change. They don't have to do what they used to anymore.

What I'm saying is...you're capable of becoming a person too, instead of a servant.

[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.]

[ After looking down at her own work, she could not help smiling in return, the softest of laughs escaping her. ]

Thank you. It took a few tries but I think I've gotten the hang of it.

[ Working on these restorations had allowed her to relax in such a peaceful atmosphere. And getting the chance to talk to someone else was very much welcomed. Chise then looked to the project Red Wine was working on. ]

Does that text use a lot of red ink? If it does I can see if I can find another bottle just in case.

Edited 2020-02-28 04:44 (UTC)

Mm.

[At itch that can't quite be satified by anything that he can find to do here. That insistent need to have some kind of use is buried bone-deep, existing even in the wildest and most wicked of Food Souls. It's what drives them, and what sometimes even drives them to madness.]

If you mean an individual... I am that. [For all his talk of being a weapon he won't simply reduce himself to that definition only. No, someone like Red Wine is too proud for that.]

But... ah. It's difficult to explain. What I'm used to doing - what has always been expected - is what I want. It's unsettling to not be doing it.

[It's understood on Tierra. What Red Wine is isn't something that he ever really needs to go into detail about. He glances at Caren again.]

You're cold. We should go inside.

[She can understand the desperate need to be useful. It's not the same but it's not different either. But...some things she's not ready to talk about. Especially not after being scolded so many times for not taking care of herself.

And the look on Elliot's face when she called herself a sacrifice.]

I know that I've felt useless since I've had to change since my arrival. Not like you of course.

[She huffs a little, and cocks her eyebrow.]

Would it be better if I let you fuss over me a little?

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If you're going through hell, keep going.

i. inkspell

diplomatea

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