middaeg | [Semi-Open] Full Moon Catch-All

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fe: felix hugo fraldarius

[Semi-Open] Full Moon Catch-All

Who: Felix & CR
When: The 9th + The Following Days
Where: Blue Lions House
What: Felix's time out in the Wilde has hastened his transformation more than he expected.
Warnings: Possibly some body horror. More warnings as needed.

A. The Full Moon

[ It starts as an ache in his teeth, his nails, his very bones, even.

Felix is attuned to his own moods enough to know that something is off in the days leading up to the full moon, and this month brings with it an entirely different set of challenges from the last. He wheels from one emotional extreme to another fast enough to give himself whiplash—somber and withdrawn one moment, restless and agitated and pacing the floor of the ballroom-turned-training-hall the next.

He's a makeshift training dummy he constructed out of burlap and sandbags, stuffed with straw and nailed to a framework of wooden posts. He thrashes it with a wooden training sword until the burlap starts to fray at the edges and its straw insides scatter across the floor, and then he growls, and he keeps thrashing at it until he hits it hard enough that the dummy splinters and snaps at the base, and the top half collapses with a wooden thunk to the floor.

Weak, Felix thinks, and he growls. The sound comes out like nothing human—an animal's growl, low and bubbling in the back of his throat.

It startles him enough that he drops his training sword, and it hits the ground with a clatter.

Anyone Felix suspects might be about the house this evening receives a message shortly after, brief, blunt, and not at all explanatory. ]

Stay out of the cellar until dawn. The door is locked. Leave it that way.
Sylvain—if you've brought anyone over you plan on seeing a second time? Send them home.

B. The Aftermath

[ In the wake of the full moon and his transformation, Felix finds himself so exhausted he can barely muster the energy to crawl out of bed, much less hold a blade in his hand and go through the motions of his usual morning drills. And he hates it. He's never liked feeling sick, weak, small; he's never liked breaking his routine when he could be practicing, honing his skills, improving his footwork or his technique or whichever aspect of his swordplay he's found lacking on a given day.

He stays confined to his bedroom, door firmly shut, and visitors get little more than a short, sharp, leave me be when they knock. Unfortunately, it comes out more like a weak, raspy croak, because his voice has abandoned him entirely after his change. He knows why. He knows what it'll be like after it returns. He hated that thought, too.

But it's hardly the worst of his changes. There are still other reasons he doesn't want to see anyone, and those reasons are obvious the second anyone dares to crack the door and peak inside. Felix stays curled up in bed, bundled in his blankets, but the creak of a door is all it takes for an ear to flick upward—not a man's ear, but a beast's, tapered sharply to a point and covered in soft, fine black fur, short and new as a month-old puppy's. ]

Did you not hear me? I said leave me be.

C. Wildcard

[ Nothing here quite fit? Have something specific in mind? Throw something up in the comments below or pm/pp me at

ruddyowls if you have an idea you'd like to plot out or you want me to write you a starter! Anyone who knows Felix and would feasibly have a way to hear about his shift is welcome. ]

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Fight me.

[Lorenz rapped on the door firmly once again before heaving a frustrated sigh. It was true that he didn't know Felix all that well, but the combination of the note, the moonphase, and the utter silence from the swordsman in the days following had left a distinct feeling of being unsettled deep in his gut. He knew from his own experiences the month before that dwelling on inevitability for too long did no one any favors.

It was for that reason that he hiked up the stairs, his footing firmer than it had been the month before, with a training sword in his hand.

He rapped on the door once more, before reaching for the handle.]

This is unlike you, Felix. I am coming in now.

[Because, from the little he did know of Felix, he was certain that putting a sword in his hands would be a good step to helping him regain a sense of normalcy.]

[ Felix has learned to recognize Lorenz by the sound of his hooves—they make a very particular ka-thunk noise when they strike the floorboards, as they're doing now, though far more sharply than he's used to from Lorenz.

So he expects the knock on his door. He just doesn't expect Lorenz, as well-mannered as the man usually considers himself, to barge in.

So this is how Lorenz catches him unprepared, sitting bolt upright in the bed as the door clicks and swings open, ears flattened against his skull and a growl bubbling in his throat. ]

Didn't I tell you—

[ —is what he starts to say, but then his eyes fall to the blade in Lorenz's hands, and he cuts off, staring.

His expression—flat, irritated—gives away nothing, inscrutable as always. But the ears perk up, swiveling forward with all of a wolf's keen interest, telling on him as surely as if he'd said it outright. Felix doesn't seem to notice.

Eyes narrowed and suspicious, after a moment he ventures: ]

Do you even know how to use that thing?

A bit better than Lysithea does, rest assured.

[Lorenz hefted the wooden blade in his hand, testing it's weight and grip as he spoke. Propriety had it's place in every scenario, but there were times when being aware of the people involved carried more weight than simple politeness. From what he knew, the gruff swordsman didn't care overmuch for manners if they were unnecessary-- and, after watching Felix spend the better part of the week holed up in his room, Lorenz deemed manners to be unnecessary.

A direct approach, at times, yielded better results.

Looking Felix over, Lorenz understood the reason for the isolation. If the ears had shifted and developed fur, then likely other things had changed as well.]

I am no fool, Felix. While I prefer lances, I know how to at least hold a sword. My footing needs work, but that is a daily problem I'm working to remedy at the moment.

[Standing straighter, and mindful of where his antlers and the blade were in relation to the walls and the ceiling, Lorenz adjusted his footing and made a quick slashing motion as a test of it's weight.]

...Do you not think a quick spar will help you adjust to any changes in your senses and awareness that have come from this Moon?

[ Felix watches Lorenz keenly as he goes through his motions with his blade, watching the speed of it, the arc, the way Lorenz punctuates his strokes. In this, Felix hasn't changed at all; he still has an eye for the way a man wields a blade, and right now, Lorenz seems like he's handling himself well enough. His technique isn't horrid, and he seems to have regained some of his balance since the last time Felix saw him.

And his blade strokes read as sharply determined, to boot. Felix recognizes he's not going to get Lorenz to leave without a sparring match. He tears his eyes away, uttering a gruff, irritated noise that comes out as more of a short, sharp animal snarl. ]

Fine, fine. Just let me get my coat.

[ It's hung on the end of the bedpost, and Felix reaches for it to tug it about his shoulders before he dares venture out of the bed—some things are obvious, but some things, Felix isn't yet ready to share.

If he's still a little weak and unsteady when he slides out of the bed and wanders across the room to fetch his training blade, he conceals it well enough—there's only the faintest drag to his step. ]

We're not sparring up here. There's plenty of space downstairs in the ballroom—if you can make it down as easily as you made it up on those hooves of yours.

Oh. I... did not think of that!

[Blasted Moonbrain. Even several days out, the last threads of it lingered to smack him at inopportune times.

Frowning, Lorenz lowered the training blade and politely cast his gaze away as Felix righted himself in the darkened room. Whatever changes had come, they would be revealed soon enough anyway-- but Pride was a temperamental and fragile trait at the worst of moments and deserved it's due respect.]

It's no matter. We shall figure it out easily enough, [He said breezily, ears twitching at the halting cadence of Felix's step.] There are rails, at the very least.

[ Looking at Lorenz hovering by the door, Felix thinks, once again, that they make quite the pair—Lorenz still unsteady on his hooves, and Felix himself exhausted from his shift. Sense would dictate that he mind his own balance, and let Lorenz mind his.

But as he reaches the door, his eyes fall to Lorenz's hooves—and he sighs. ]

If I let you fall down the stairs and break your neck, I'll never hear the end of it.

[ He offers an elbow, the gesture stiff as Felix himself tends to be, not looking as he does. ]

You may use me for support going down. Just mind your balance, and don't make me fall with you.

You truly think I'm that graceless?

[Please, Felix. The hooves may be new, but he had made great strides over the course of the month in regaining his balance. The half-hearted protest ended with those words, however, as Lorenz made note of Felix's own uncoordinated movements.

They both would have plenty to work on down stairs.]

...I'll accept, only if you allow me to watch out for you as well.

[A sigh.]

I never once imagined we would find our opponent to be an ordinary staircase.

[ There's a subtle tightening of his lips, an irritable flick of an ear, golden eyes darting toward Lorenz and narrowing. So he's noticed, then, Felix thinks. He's not a fool. He knows the change wrought in him by the full moon has exhausted his body, and that he's not in his best shape.

He just, you know, didn't want to admit it to anyone. Especially not Lorenz.

After a moment, he grunts quietly. ]

—If you're going to insist, fine.

[ And not even an insult to punctuate. He jerks his head toward the stairs, shutting the bedroom door behind him. ]

I never expected to see you breathing again, but it seems surprises never cease in this city. Now come on, before I lose my patience with this.

[One of the subtler details about his more recent changes which Lorenz had not divulged was the shifts in his visual acuity. Matters like detecting the nuances of motion had become more obvious to him. Combined with the increase in the sensitivity of his hearing, small matters like the ones that Felix sought to hide were fairly plain to observe.]

Let us go, then.

[Lorenz said, grasping a hold of Felix's arm in a manner that was comfortable enough for the both of them. With Felix's solitary nature, nothing would be comfortable-- but it would Suffice.]

Allegations of my death were clearly exaggerated by whomever it is that writes our histories, Felix. But you're right; the surprises likely will never cease. We'll need to learn to shrug them off and keep moving forward.

Ha. That's the most sensible thing I think I've ever heard you say.

[ He's not at his best, but he's prepared to shift to accommodate Lorenz's weight if he must once they take the stairs. And for all his talk of Lorenz handling his balance for himself, he sets a surprisingly slow, steady pace—not so slow as to be grandmotherly, but slow enough that Lorenz can hopefully manage when they crest the top of the stairs and begin their descent.

Luckily, the stairs are broad, and their slope gradual enough neither of them should have much trouble. ]

There's no point in dwelling on the past. It can't be changed. It can't be fixed.

[ There's a firm note to his voice, a steady gaze straight ahead.]

The only thing we hold power over is the future, to which the past only serves as a distraction—ah, watch your step. This one's a little higher around the middle landing.

Many thanks.

[Attentive to the warning, Lorenz did watch his step-- and avoided the fate of many deer which involved getting their antlers stuck on sundry inconvenient obstacles.]

But, no. I agree. There's no changing the past... however, there's no reason to let it bind us while we are here either.

[He glanced over, curious about Felix's reaction. This mentality of his was not garnered from anyone nor anything besides his own understanding of the world. The past provided ample lessons for them to learn, but they still had the freedom to make their own choices.

It was, in many ways, the only true freedom they had in any reality.]

This again? Come on, Lorenz.

[ He can sense the direction of this conversation, and he averts his eyes, exhaling sharply through his nose. He's already agreed not to cause trouble for the Emperor or her friends, but that doesn't mean he wants to go to tea with them, either, no matter how much Lorenz plans on wheedling him about it.

The second they reach the lower level of the house, Felix shrugs Lorenz off his arm and stalks more than anything down the hall to his left toward the former ballroom, leaving the faun to fend for himself on even ground. ]

I've never been bound by the past. [ At least, that's what he tells himself, while his ears twitch in apparent agitation. He's not prepared to admit yet that all his training is still driven in part by a desire to best someone he'll never get the chance to duel again. ] But I'm not going to be bound by anyone's expectations here, either. Can you not just leave it be?

I am not asking anything of you in regard to anyone else here.

[Lorenz said primly, looking at Felix with quiet confusion written on his features. Out of everyone, Lorenz felt that Felix was one of the ones who understood what Lorenz was working toward. Cooperation was all he asked-- not necessarily friendship between everyone.

But the continued references to his own passing in Felix's history was uncomfortable. While Lorenz accepted it as a fair possibility, that didn't mean he was fond of the idea.

It meant that he had failed in all of his plans.]

All I was suggesting is that we see each other as we are right here and now, not the versions of each other that we have in our memories. I know for a fact that you are not the Felix that came to the Alliance seeking answers and purpose in the aftermath of everything that happened over the course of the last five years; Likewise, I am not that person who was manipulated onto the battlefield by machinations that were beyond his reach to ultimately be felled by someone who had been akin to a friend in another time.

[Hefting the training sword in his hand, Lorenz stepped onto the platform of the makeshift training hall that Felix had seen constructed.]

...We both seek a sense of control, correct? Let us find it here.

[ Felix steps up onto the platform after Lorenz, swinging his blade once and then twice, criss-crossing the air in front of his body to work loose muscles rendered stiff with disuse. Maybe the real problem is that these last few idle days have left him with little to occupy his mind but his own thoughts, the perfect time for ill memories and feelings to dredge back up and fester. Maybe it's the poor mood his shift has left him in, and the sense that maybe things have changed too much now to go back.

He doesn't answer right away, his expression tight and distant while he warms up, and in the silence, a bright and querulous prrp?—Leonie, not the person but the cat, pads silently into the hall, bright red tail straight up in the air like a waving banner. She bounds up into the center window and seats herself in the sunlight, slow-blinking back and forth between the both of them.

Felix watches her for a moment, and then, with a sigh, shrugs off his cloak and tosses it aside. His own tail isn't nearly so elegant—a scraggly, stubby thing not yet fully grown out. ]

So long as you can see me as myself, and no one and nothing else, I suppose I can return the favor.

[ The training blade spins in his hand—and then, without warning, Felix lunges, sparing no force in a cleaving diagonal swing at Lorenz's shoulder. ]

Show me how well you fight here, Lorenz.

[Finding himself suddenly before an audience of one, Lorenz found himself almost chuckling at the familiar presence of the cat. Clearly, letting Felix take in Leonie had been a good choice. Later on Lorenz would thank him-- if he wasn't too busy licking his own wounds.

Because, in truth, he was only passable with a sword if it was his only option. While he had some skill, what he knew was nowhere near even the level of his skills with a polearm. Matching Felix's level was not even a possibility.

But, that wasn't the point.]

Very well, Felix. Show me how you handle yourself now.

[And, with that, he made to strike.]

Edited 2020-03-23 03:09 (UTC)

[ How Felix handles himself now is not so different than back home—his Crest made him stronger and faster with a blade in his hand back home, and now his monstrous nature does much the same.

These last few days idle haven't robbed him of his abilities, either; he catches Lorenz's blade on his own and twists, letting it slide off easily to one side, giving him opening to maneuver. ]

Watch those ears, Lorenz— [ He growls, flashing a grin that shows his canines are growing a little longer, and he angles his blade to jab to the left of Lorenz's head, close enough to graze him. ] —else you might leave with a new piercing.

[This was the Felix that Lorenz knew. The simple, primal joy that existed on the other side of the blade had always been majestic to watch in action-- but being on the dangerous end of the sword was a rare pleasure that Lorenz had never met before. While it was true that his swordplay skills were better than Lysithea, the truth was that the distinction hardly mattered. While he was better, it wasn't by much. He knew how to hold the blade, a few basic moves, and some simple footwork and little more.

Barely dodging the training blade as it whizzed past his head, grazing the barest tips of an ear and the long strands of hair that he had left loose, Lorenz couldn't help but break into a grin.]

It would be a badge I'd wear with pride.

[He said, seizing the proximity between them to make another attempt at an attack-- however ordinary it was.]

Edited 2020-03-29 02:39 (UTC)

[ Lorenz isn't the most skilled opponent Felix has faced—the reaction time isn't there, and neither is the muscle memory—but he's not the least, either, and right now that's enough for Felix. He's passably competent. He keeps up. Felix can clash blades with him and feel the knots working out of stiff muscles with every ring of steel, let the mire clear from his thoughts, and really, that's all he wants or needs.

If the ridiculous, stubby tail he's acquired from his ordeal starts to thrash, it's got nothing to do with him, or with the grin on his face. ]

Why settle for a badge of failure? Come on—

[ Felix rotates his blade, sending Lorenz's next blow skidding off the edge of it, and then he takes a step and a half back, throwing wide an opening. Come at him, Lorenz. ]

—try harder this time.

And fall for an obvious trap?

[The opening was too obvious, Felix. Lorenz cast the swordsman a wry, amused look before side stepping and taking a shot at Felix's side with a teasing smile playing on his lips. The viceral glee he read in Felix's eyes ~~and in the wagging of that stubby little tail~~ was worth every taunt, every blow.

Because sometimes just getting back to work was the best form of comfort and counsel a person could get.]

It's not failure, Felix. [He added, gamely using his words, his 'dirty' moves, to his advantage. No one cared for the rules on the battlefield-- ultimately, war was not pretty. So long as non-combatants were not caught in the mess and sadistic behavior was not exposed, anything was allowable when death was on the line.] It's just finding yet another way of not succeeding.

[ Good, he thinks, spinning about and catching Lorenz's sideswipe on the edge of a downturned blade. No one can fault Lorenz for being a fool. Felix would've been disappointed if he'd fallen for that one, anyway, especially when he's finally finding his own rhythm.

He chuckles. ]

If that's you're way of saying you're letting me win, [ There's a glint of mischief in his eyes, and rather than push back this time, Felix lets his blade glance harmlessly off Lorenz's and twists to the outside of the sweep—effectively allowing Lorenz's own momentum to keep going, maybe throw him off balance. ] don't.

Oh, please.

[Graceful enough to catch his own footing before he careened into a wall, Lorenz pivoted on his hooves with an obviously practiced grace. He still wasn't as fluid as he would have liked, but that would come in time.

He merely grinned at Felix.]

We both know that wouldn't do either of us any good.

[ Felix notes, amused, the way Lorenz manages to regain his balance, quicker than he expected. It's by no means graceful, but it's a far cry from the Lorenz who couldn't even wobble his way up off a sofa a month ago, when he first transformed. ]

You're right, [ He says, and there's something thoughtfully bemused in his voice as he straightens, letting the point of his blade drop down toward the floor. ] it wouldn't.

[ The intended purpose of this little duel has become fairly obvious to him now, and he can't say he's ungrateful. ]

...Your balance is better than it was by far. You should consider using the power in your new legs to your advantage in a fight. They'll serve you well—put more force behind your blows if you handle yourself right.

Hm... That is a good point.

[He had done some research into the anatomy for his own peace of mind-- as Fauns were prone to leg troubles if they weren't careful. It amused him to know that some of the leg bones were referred to as 'cannons', and he wondered how much of that could be applied on a practical level.

Shifting his weight, Lorenz offered Felix a sly grin before he lunged off of his hooves. The drop in his center of gravity-- though not significant enough to get an edge over Felix, who even ordinarily was a good deal shorter than he was-- made it easier to use the metaphorical 'cannons' in his legs.

He hadn't expected this; distantly, he wondered if Felix did.]

[ Felix doesn't it. He's used to speaking and not being heard; he expects Lorenz to brush the advice off or, best-case scenario, it'll be some time before he learns to put it to use.

But that momentary drop in his guard for the sake of lecturing costs him, because a second later, Lorenz takes off like a shot, powered by the force in his cloven hooves.

Felix yelps, a sound half-animal, and swings his blade up to meet the blow. Lorenz hits him hard enough to rattle his blade and his teeth both, and a second later he's flat on his back on the wood floor, breathless and blinking up at the vaulted ceiling trying to figure out what just happened.

And then he draws his forearm across his face and cackles. ]

You're—ha—a quick learner, I'll give you that.

[Lorenz himself was grinning. Spars were a noble practice both to hone your own skills and to gauge the strengths or weaknesses of those considered allies. But, even he recognized that there were times in the training arena where the simple sound of good hearted laughter had it's place. Chuckling himself, pleased to have managed to best Felix of all people in a practice bout, Lorenz offered Felix a hand.]

Naturally. Would you expect less of me?

Here. Being on the ground like that isn't a good look for you, even if you do seem much better than you were a short while ago.

[ Felix lowers his hand from his face then, flashing a fanged grin up at Lorenz. ]

Please, you earned it. Just don't get used to the sight.

[ Felix takes Lorenz's hand, this time trusting the man's balance on his hooves enough to allow him to pull him upright. When he's on his feet once more, he stoops to pick up his blade.

He may have lost, but he can't say it particularly stings—physically, maybe, but emotionally he's all pleasant surprise and a sense of quiet satisfaction. ]

Remember that move. It will serve you well—particularly when I decide to demand a rematch.

[That was the Felix that Lorenz knew. Grinning back, Lorenz offered a quick, graceful bow at those words. It was high praise, coming from Felix.]

I will, and I have you to thank for it.

Shall we have a rematch in the future, the next time we have too much energy to work off? That was... invigorating.

Another time, certainly. I'll be interested to see how you improve with practice.

[ And Felix simply nods. He's not one for sweeping bows as part of these exchanges, but he can at least acknowledge the gesture in his own way.

Speaking of which. ]

For now, I'll just offer you a cup of tea. I'm sure we have something in the pantry besides pine needles.

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[Semi-Open] Full Moon Catch-All

B. Mostly.

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