Felix Hugo Fraldarius (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
finesseblade) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2020-03-07 06:23 pm
finesseblade) wrote in middaeg2020-03-07 06:23 pm
Entry tags:
[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 He wheels from one emotional extreme to another fast enough to give himself whiplash—somber and withdrawn one moment, restless and agitated and pacing the floor of the ballroom-turned-training-hall the next.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![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
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. ]
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
no subject
...Maybe the worry was for nothing. Either way, he takes the compliment in stride and gives Felix a wink, because there's no way he's admitting he was concerned.
What he does do is let the silence drag on between them. There's a time to chatter on about everything and nothing, and there's a time to keep quiet, and this feels like the latter. He knows he's right, anyway, and he can tell that Felix is working on coming to terms with that in his own way.
He knows he's managed it when he pulls the blanket down off his head and lets his ears perk up somewhat. His hair is a mess, he's really pouting, and... well, Sylvain isn't all that helpful, because he kind of thinks they're cute, and is kind of wondering just what a headpat would do to Felix - or, worse, what petting behind those ears of his would do.
He gives in to the impulse somewhat - satisfies himself by leaning closer to reach out and run his fingers through Felix's hair, gently pulling out tangles and making it less of a tousled mess and more like himself.]
You'll get them back when we go home, Felix. Might as well get used to these, for now. Maybe they'll help you fight, once you are.
[A... small attempt to make it Not The Worst Thing - if only because he has a sneaking suspicion that worse is yet to come.]
no subject
But they're Bonded now, and he's had to get used to simple exchanges of energy through touch, so he doesn't pull away completely. He's found there's a constant thrum of magic around Sylvain's fingertips now, and this close to his ears it's a sharp buzz that makes him huff quietly and tilt his head. At least it's not an unpleasant sensation. He could easily go back to sleep like this.
No sooner has Sylvain carded out one of the tangled knots in his hair then there's a sudden thump-thump from the mattress behind him, and Felix freezes. The noise stops. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that that's, well, him. ]
Shit.
[ He reaches up and snags Sylvain's wrist, before, goddess forbid, he touches him again and that noise starts back up. ]
Listen, I know you heard that. Don't— [ He's half-choking on his words, totally ashamed of himself. ] —don't you dare say a word to anyone.
no subject
That would, in all likelihood, be more embarrassing for Felix than anything else.
But they are Bonded, and for once, Sylvain's habit of casual, affectionate touch has come in handy. The exchange of energy is always refreshing, and he's mostly used to the sensation of giving raw magic and receiving it back but... refined, in a way. It's nice.
He doesn't have much of a chance to dwell on the nature of casual affection before his attention is drawn by that very distinctive thump-thump from behind Felix, and if there was any doubt at all about what it was, the other's reaction is more confirmation than he could have ever asked for.]
Won't tell a soul.
[Anyone who ought to know deserves to see it for themselves, anyway...
What he can't quite stop is just how endearing he found it, or the grin that breaks out on his face as a result. Usually, casual affection - like carding knots out of his hair, for example - seemed like a surefire way to annoy Felix to no end. But... this was clear proof that at least part of him enjoyed it.
So these changes were annoying, but he can't find them all bad.]
Won't even tease you about it too much if you just relax and let me finish helping you out.
no subject
He wonders, briefly, if he's strong enough now to just pick Sylvain up and toss him out onto the landing.
He abandons that thought a moment later, and releases Sylvain's wrist with a gruff, irritated little noise, dropping his hands into his lap. One ear twitches, still attuned to his agitated state. ]
Fine. Just—get it over with, and don't make fun, alright?
[ The wafting scent of tea and food attracts his attention once more, and Felix, grateful for the distraction, reaches for the tray by his bedside, setting it on his lap.
He takes one sip of tea and immediately blanches. It's warm, and soothes some of the ache in his throat, but it's overwhelmingly saccharine. ]
What did you put in this? It's drowning in sugar.
no subject
He is probably strong enough to pick him up. Whether or not he's strong enough to toss him, or pry him off should he decide to cling is another issue entirely.]
Alright. I'll only tell you this once that they're pretty cute, actually.
[He's sure that'll upset him, but... better to tell him outright, instead of letting the sentiment drift over their Bond and work its way under Felix's skin. Best to get the annoyance out of the way now, too, when there are so many distractions in the form of food and drink and casual, gentle affection in the form of Sylvain resuming the effort to gently work tangles out of Felix's hair with his fingers.]
Not sugar. Honey. I know it's sweet, but it'll help your throat, so drink it while it's still warm, alright?
no subject
I'm not one of your girls, Sylvain. There's nothing cute about it.
[ It comes across as a simmering sort of irritation over their bond, but the effect is ruined and fragmented a moment later when Sylvain's fingers start to stroke through his hair again. That feeling simmers gradually down to nothing, until Felix finally decides to grudgingly sip from his teacup, accepting defeat.
...And then the tail slowly but surely starts thumping again. There's a flash of annoyance, on his face and across the bond, but he lets it be this time. ]
...Thank you. For this. [ Super stiff, but he's being sincere in his gratitude, and Sylvain can probably feel it. ]
no subject
I know you're not. I mean it, with you.
[Okay, so technically that probably counts as him telling Felix he's cute a second time. Regardless - it's a distinction that they rarely voice, but needs to be reaffirmed all the same before he lets it go entirely as he feels Felix's annoyance simmer down.
And as he hears that tail start thumping on the bed again. The flash of annoyance is met with a flash of fond amusement, but Sylvain lets that go, too.]
Of course. If you need - or want - anything else, let me know, alright?
[If there's anything he can do to make the transition even a little bit easier, he's more than willing to do it, and he hopes that tricky, complicated sentiment comes across loud and clear.]
no subject
But they've been here a month now, and he's had time to grow used to the idea that neither of them have their predestined futures hanging over their heads here. They've skirted that line once or twice. How hard would it be, he wonders, to cross it entirely?
Maybe he's overthinking it.
Felix shakes his head, frowning, finding somewhere else besides Sylvain to settle his eyes. He's definitely overthinking it. And he should put it from his mind before the mix of conflicted feelings in him becomes obvious from the other side. ]
I don't need anything, [ he mutters, and then takes a breath, because the next part isn't easy to admit, ] except company. It's easier when you're here, and I'm not stuck in my own head.