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 He wheels from one emotional extreme to another fast enough to give himself whiplash—somber and withdrawn one moment, restless and agitated and pacing the floor of the ballroom-turned-training-hall the next.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
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.