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middaeg2019-06-03 10:11 pm
hearthebell) wrote in middaeg2019-06-03 10:11 pm
Entry tags:
I Am Embracing the Cold Rushing in Like Ice to a Diamond [OPEN, Catchall for June]
Who: L Lawliet and OPEN
When: Throughout June
Where: Various places;
What: Sans caretaker, an antisocial, world-renowned detective separated from all his resources searches for lodging, work, and purpose. All while continuing to practice magic.
Warnings: None right now; I'll update it if that changes!
A. More explosions make debris (Barracks)
[To say that there's been something of an adjustment period since L arrived here is an understatement, to say the least. Once, he had a handler who took care of everything he needed, from laundry to finding him things to eat to telling him when it was time to sleep. While it wasn't the kind of life that most adults were content leading, it had suited him just fine, allowing him to devote more energy to his one truly passionate pursuit: solving the world's most bizarre and complex cases.
One month in, and he's semi-adapted to his new environment, in the sense that he is surviving, but not exactly thriving. He's carved out a niche for himself in the barracks, where stacks of overdue library books stand in place of furniture or decor... but otherwise, one would be forgiven for believing that this particular building is unoccupied. There's no real sign that anyone has taken up residence here from the outside; restoration efforts haven't reached this section of the barracks yet, and the plants outside are overgrown, some of the windows drooping and dilapidated, the door hanging precariously from one hinge that only sort of works.
If you did make this very understandable mistake and you opt to enter, you might stumble upon the only room that's being actively used, and it's sort of a pathetic sight. A scrawny, dark-haired young man is seated in a curled position on the floor. His back is against the wall and his shaggy head is drooped over his bony knees, with clumps of candy wrappers and four open books around his bare feet. He is wearing the set of Coven robes he received on the first day here, and they appear, after a month, to be in desperate need of a good cleaning. Fast asleep in a clear state of exhaustion, he doesn't notice you... but if you stick around or make even the slightest noise, that's bound to change quickly.]
B. Catching it kind of suits you (Coven)
[L avoids going out in public nearly to the point of being agoraphobic. The pallor of his skin suggests that he's never even seen the Sun, and the shuffling, tentative way he moves is absurdly ill-suited to crowds of jostling strangers. But he makes exceptions for certain things, and must; his only other true option is to stagnate and slowly wither away to a brittle, frail collection of bones. The unfortunate realities of distrusting people while being rather more reliant on them than most grown humans are coming home to roost, in the sense that L's faltering a bit without Watari's constant, vigilant maintenance. Soon his health will begin to suffer, and as a Witch, it makes sense that the best way to be sustainably self-sufficient might be buckling down and learning how to heal his own injuries, restore his own energy if he's lacking sleep, and make food materialize out of thin air so he doesn't have to go out and purchase it.
After a month, he's found that it's not nearly so simple. Some branches of magic have been more promising than others; he seems to have a knack for Divination and Illusion, which probably shouldn't be surprising given his background as an investigator. But L tends not to be merely average at anything; his destiny is either extreme proficiency, or extreme disaster, and the latter seems to be the case with Abjuration and Transmutation. It seems that healing and mending things are what give him the most trouble, to the point where his attempts actually backfire and have the opposite effect.
What started as a minor abrasion on his left hand, that any extremely basic healing spell could make short work of, has spread to many abrasions all over his hand and wrist. His attempts to mend the Coven robe he is still wearing since receiving it on his first day are actually unraveling the threads holding it together. His frustration is real and powerful, but his expression doesn't betray it. Just maybe the occasional swift exhalation, or a murmured question about his future success before he consults tea leaves and sets aside the cup, disgusted with the answer he reads there with comparative ease.
Maybe these particular disciplines come easier to you and you have a heart. Or maybe you just want to laugh at him.]
C. Well it doesn't suit me (Runetchers)
[L is a fast reader, and a fast learner. When he's exhausted what he has to work with in a day at the Coven, advised not to overdo it before he has a bond with a monster who can help him cycle his magic, there are still many hours left in a day... and really, when money is a concern and not just managed in vast quantities to be thrown around when it's required, the necessity of it can't really be overlooked.
But when one has worked the same job since early childhood and needed no introduction at the top of his field, it's an issue. When one is off and peculiar in his interactions and socially irregular, it's an issue. When one secretly considers himself above most offerings, it's especially an issue, and so a month has passed with nothing catching L's interest and no currency changing hands. However, when Runetchers put out a call for steady hands and loading scrolls with spells, it's a prospect... and when they add that they are willing to teach on the job, L is sufficiently sold. At least for a little while, this will suffice, especially if he doesn't have to come in contact with chipper inquisitive customers or nitpicky coworkers.
Did you also take this quest? Or did you just drop in to check out the shop that smells like old parchment and cloves? Either way, the spindly, wide-eyed youth is watching you, pausing in his work so his dark, lacquered eyes can better follow you around the shop. If you move to get away from him, you might notice that he's even left his desk to keep closer tabs on you. ]
D. With the Sun setting low and the shadows unfurled (FULL MOON, around the city)
[It's been an especially long day. As L's magical practice deepens, so does the exhaustion that comes with trying to do it alone, and the ensuing snappishness and irritability... but today, in particular, it's been difficult to use magic at all. His attempts at spells are either weak or they fail entirely, and while he's wrung what he can out of him to get through work, he was dismissed early and told to get some rest when it became clear, quickly, that even his ability to draw pretty straight lines was suffering.
He's on his way home tonight. Maybe you're another witch who's similarly weakened, or a monster struggling with their changes. Either way, it's dark, and he's wearing dark clothing, and it's entirely likely that you just don't see the guy and walk right into him. Hopefully it's not claws-first, and with the way his eyes are narrowing, it would be great if you were in a better mood.]
E. Can you live with the way they make you look unreal? (WILDCARD)
[Don't see it? Want it? Have at it! If you want a quick and easy way to get ahold of me for plotting purposes, I am on plurk at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
lexil.]
When: Throughout June
Where: Various places;
What: Sans caretaker, an antisocial, world-renowned detective separated from all his resources searches for lodging, work, and purpose. All while continuing to practice magic.
Warnings: None right now; I'll update it if that changes!
A. More explosions make debris (Barracks)
[To say that there's been something of an adjustment period since L arrived here is an understatement, to say the least. Once, he had a handler who took care of everything he needed, from laundry to finding him things to eat to telling him when it was time to sleep. While it wasn't the kind of life that most adults were content leading, it had suited him just fine, allowing him to devote more energy to his one truly passionate pursuit: solving the world's most bizarre and complex cases.
One month in, and he's semi-adapted to his new environment, in the sense that he is surviving, but not exactly thriving. He's carved out a niche for himself in the barracks, where stacks of overdue library books stand in place of furniture or decor... but otherwise, one would be forgiven for believing that this particular building is unoccupied. There's no real sign that anyone has taken up residence here from the outside; restoration efforts haven't reached this section of the barracks yet, and the plants outside are overgrown, some of the windows drooping and dilapidated, the door hanging precariously from one hinge that only sort of works.
If you did make this very understandable mistake and you opt to enter, you might stumble upon the only room that's being actively used, and it's sort of a pathetic sight. A scrawny, dark-haired young man is seated in a curled position on the floor. His back is against the wall and his shaggy head is drooped over his bony knees, with clumps of candy wrappers and four open books around his bare feet. He is wearing the set of Coven robes he received on the first day here, and they appear, after a month, to be in desperate need of a good cleaning. Fast asleep in a clear state of exhaustion, he doesn't notice you... but if you stick around or make even the slightest noise, that's bound to change quickly.]
B. Catching it kind of suits you (Coven)
[L avoids going out in public nearly to the point of being agoraphobic. The pallor of his skin suggests that he's never even seen the Sun, and the shuffling, tentative way he moves is absurdly ill-suited to crowds of jostling strangers. But he makes exceptions for certain things, and must; his only other true option is to stagnate and slowly wither away to a brittle, frail collection of bones. The unfortunate realities of distrusting people while being rather more reliant on them than most grown humans are coming home to roost, in the sense that L's faltering a bit without Watari's constant, vigilant maintenance. Soon his health will begin to suffer, and as a Witch, it makes sense that the best way to be sustainably self-sufficient might be buckling down and learning how to heal his own injuries, restore his own energy if he's lacking sleep, and make food materialize out of thin air so he doesn't have to go out and purchase it.
After a month, he's found that it's not nearly so simple. Some branches of magic have been more promising than others; he seems to have a knack for Divination and Illusion, which probably shouldn't be surprising given his background as an investigator. But L tends not to be merely average at anything; his destiny is either extreme proficiency, or extreme disaster, and the latter seems to be the case with Abjuration and Transmutation. It seems that healing and mending things are what give him the most trouble, to the point where his attempts actually backfire and have the opposite effect.
What started as a minor abrasion on his left hand, that any extremely basic healing spell could make short work of, has spread to many abrasions all over his hand and wrist. His attempts to mend the Coven robe he is still wearing since receiving it on his first day are actually unraveling the threads holding it together. His frustration is real and powerful, but his expression doesn't betray it. Just maybe the occasional swift exhalation, or a murmured question about his future success before he consults tea leaves and sets aside the cup, disgusted with the answer he reads there with comparative ease.
Maybe these particular disciplines come easier to you and you have a heart. Or maybe you just want to laugh at him.]
C. Well it doesn't suit me (Runetchers)
[L is a fast reader, and a fast learner. When he's exhausted what he has to work with in a day at the Coven, advised not to overdo it before he has a bond with a monster who can help him cycle his magic, there are still many hours left in a day... and really, when money is a concern and not just managed in vast quantities to be thrown around when it's required, the necessity of it can't really be overlooked.
But when one has worked the same job since early childhood and needed no introduction at the top of his field, it's an issue. When one is off and peculiar in his interactions and socially irregular, it's an issue. When one secretly considers himself above most offerings, it's especially an issue, and so a month has passed with nothing catching L's interest and no currency changing hands. However, when Runetchers put out a call for steady hands and loading scrolls with spells, it's a prospect... and when they add that they are willing to teach on the job, L is sufficiently sold. At least for a little while, this will suffice, especially if he doesn't have to come in contact with chipper inquisitive customers or nitpicky coworkers.
Did you also take this quest? Or did you just drop in to check out the shop that smells like old parchment and cloves? Either way, the spindly, wide-eyed youth is watching you, pausing in his work so his dark, lacquered eyes can better follow you around the shop. If you move to get away from him, you might notice that he's even left his desk to keep closer tabs on you. ]
D. With the Sun setting low and the shadows unfurled (FULL MOON, around the city)
[It's been an especially long day. As L's magical practice deepens, so does the exhaustion that comes with trying to do it alone, and the ensuing snappishness and irritability... but today, in particular, it's been difficult to use magic at all. His attempts at spells are either weak or they fail entirely, and while he's wrung what he can out of him to get through work, he was dismissed early and told to get some rest when it became clear, quickly, that even his ability to draw pretty straight lines was suffering.
He's on his way home tonight. Maybe you're another witch who's similarly weakened, or a monster struggling with their changes. Either way, it's dark, and he's wearing dark clothing, and it's entirely likely that you just don't see the guy and walk right into him. Hopefully it's not claws-first, and with the way his eyes are narrowing, it would be great if you were in a better mood.]
E. Can you live with the way they make you look unreal? (WILDCARD)
[Don't see it? Want it? Have at it! If you want a quick and easy way to get ahold of me for plotting purposes, I am on plurk at
no subject
[francel has been wearing a cloak of brown linen, one which sits so oddly over his back that there must be something beneath it. the mass over his back twitches oddly — evidently, his monster transformation has involved the development of these appendages. it's not hard to deduce that he's grown wings.]
If I were a Witch like you, perhaps things would be different...
no subject
They would be different, perhaps, but... not quite opposite, I suspect. While I enjoy a great deal about learning and using magic... deepening the study requires things that might be beyond me, at present.
[A Bond, namely. It's elusive, reliant on cooperation and trust, and L has a hard enough time just making friends. Someone taking pity on him and offering to share lunch is one thing, but he seems fully resigned to the fact that, for better or worse, his path is going to be a solitary one. Not unsustainable, if he's extremely careful and extremely lucky.
His eyes linger on the bulging hidden wings.]
There must be something good about it, even if it is strange.
no subject
...I spoke to you of how the men and women of my homeland waged battle against the Dravanian Horde, did I not? It... seems a great irony, but 'twould seem I am bound to become a dragon by the standards of this land.
[he sighs, leading l down a city street.]
...I am trying to be calm, certainly. Rational. But — the idea of obtaining power at the cost of becoming one's most hated enemy sits ill upon my breast.
no subject
It makes sense that you would be conflicted.
[And "conflicted" is generous; it implies that there's something good about it to contrast with the bad. Not Francel's perception, evidently; it's such an unfortunate choice given his personal history with dragons that it's actually strikingly, darkly ironic.]
It seems that the things you are not bound by are the things you should focus on. This is not your world; even if your eventual form resembles a dragon from your world identically, we don't currently exist in an environment where the two species are at war. Is there something specifically that you fear? Judgment or assumptions from someone you know who might see you living as a dragon, perhaps?
no subject
but it's the principle of the thing, francel thinks. it's when you learn to look at a dragon and see it as a thing to be killed, an enemy, a merciless beast — and then have to see the same thing when you look at yourself in the mirror.]
I... suppose what I fear most is... losing my Elezen form. The appendages, I suppose, I can live with — and the scales are not so reptilian that I cannot tolerate them. But if I were to wake up to — discover that my nose has turned to a scalekin's snout, my spine lengthened to a thumping tail —
[gods above, he actually has to suppress a visceral shiver. that would be horrifying.]
Ugh, it does not bear imagining.
no subject
L speaks calmly and carefully.]
I don't mean to discourage you. But those things are very likely to happen to you. It would be better to accept that now, rather than be even more devastated when you hold out hope that they will not.
[Maybe that sounded blunter, more abrupt or harsh than he intended it to. He speaks like some mechanical arbiter who wishes to be fair, but cannot genuinely understand the emotional side of the argument beyond childish mimicry. He attempts to soften it, somewhat, with a proposed solution.]
Perhaps you could form a Bond with a witch who could assist you in looking less like what you hate so much, at least while you're still getting used to it. Illusion work is versatile and fascinating.
no subject
aymeric keeps giving francel the exact opposite advice — he tells him to keep his chin up, to stay positive — but low expectations are easier to manage.]
Perhaps... but I already have a Bond, and would not feel comfortable with another. I could petition my Bonded to study such glamouring spells, but... he would think of it as running away from the problem. And... he would be right.
[l's mechanical bluntness doesn't seem to bother francel, at least.]
Have you looked into securing a Bond for yourself, by any chance?
no subject
[He sounds a bit envious; he's astonished at the speed and ease with which others seem to have found Bonds, seeing it as somewhat beyond his ability. Currently, maybe even ever. He's pretty much resigned to being a dead witch walking if he can't ever find one, effectively burn off some of the tremendous energy his practice is building up within him. He can't be the only one... but some days, it really feels like it.]
I don't know if it's for someone like me. There are clearly benefits, but... a lot about the arrangement seems inherently fraught, as well.
[Having to spend so much time around someone else, for one!]