Event Log: May, An Inauspicious Arrival

[faileas]

Event Log: May, An Inauspicious Arrival

I. Boaltinn (1st - 3rd) Boaltinn comes around again. A handful of Mirrorbound will remember the holiday from last year, but for others, it will be brand new. In both Residential Districts, bonfires burn in central locations through the night, frequented by the residents celebrating another summer come to Aefenglom. Curiously, while last year the bonfires seemed quite segregated by human or Monster, this year, there is more of a noticeable mix at each, and Mirrorbound are invited to join the games and festivities quite happily. Characters are invited to try and jump through the bonfire's flames to burn away any poor relationship experiences, be it romantic or platonic, past or present; to aid them in this, those at the Eastern Bonfire will give those participating rune-etched accessories to protect them from the fire. The city has quite a bit to offer for this holiday: shared rose baths at public bathhouses and pleasure establishments that increase feelings of friendliness and talkativeness, poles draped in ribbons meant to be danced around, wrapping a ribbon around the pole to bring good luck for the summer, food stalls whose offerings are meant to be shared, and fortune-telling set up by Divination students of the Coven, who can tell your day is going to go. To see last year's Boaltinn prompts, you can take a glance right here! Much of it, including the bonfires, baths, and entertainments will be similar this year, so feel free to use those in your top levels.

II. An Unusual Arrival (3rd on) A full year from the arrival of the first group of Mirrorbound, the 1st passes quietly, with no one showing up in the mirror-lined halls of the Looking-Glass House. Dates and times are important in most kinds of magic, and this is strange enough that some Witches of the Coven get together on the night of the 3rd to try a probing ritual, attempting to gather some kind of clues that could be useful in prying out the cottage's secrets. Boaltinn is the best time for such things, when the boundaries are thinner, and magic is stronger. Those who are awake that night at 3 am might notice a pulse of harmless silvery light that spreads like ripples on water throughout the whole city, originating at the Looking-Glass House, but nothing further happens, and the Coven receives no answers. Well, nothing happens in the Looking-Glass House. Before long, the reports start coming in: people are emerging from mirrors, regular old mundane mirrors, all over the city. Anything with a particularly reflective surface could be an entry point for someone from another world! Inhabited homes, businesses closed and locked for the night, pools of still water in fountains or the river, these unorthodox Mirrorbound pop up anywhere and everywhere, causing chaos for the City Guard (folks aren't happy to find strangers in their bathrooms at 3 in the morning) and the Coven both. Out of nowhere, a glint of light catches your eye; your heart thunders in your ears as your body moves on its own, your mind consumed with inspecting the source. Your reflection stares back at you, just as curious from the surface - a mirror, a pool of water, your most trusted sword, something fleeting that your mind can barely remember - then ripples at your touch. If you are one of these unfortunate arrivals, it's likely a rude awakening for you, to find yourself somewhere inconvenient, somewhere other than where you've been. It only makes sense to be confused. Hopefully someone finds you and explains to you what's happened to you. Resident Mirrorbound will hear a message from Miss Nessie shortly after it begins, a call to arms: "Dears, I'm quite sorry to disturb you, but it seems your fellows are arriving elsewhere than the Looking-Glass House this month! We're trying to track them all down for the usual welcome, but we could use a hand or several! If you could just bring them by the Coven, the usual spot, that would be lovely." She'll give her usual orientation and pass out Watches, but no doubt the Mirrorbound will be more helpful in this regard, with so many arriving.

III. The Goblin Market (All Month) Life goes on in Aefenglom, despite the addition of so many new residents. With the City Guard decidedly busy dealing with the sudden flood of break-ins (or, more accurately, break-outs?), the vendors of the Goblin Market find opportunity to set up their stalls more openly than they have since the crack-downs some months ago. They pop up all over the city, but clustered more often in the Residential Districts and the Harbor District, where there are even fewer law enforcement agents out and about to run them off. These sellers, while not as devoid of morals as those major players of the Black Market, still have very few compunctions when it comes to lying, cheating, fencing stolen goods, and misrepresenting their wares to unsuspecting buyers. It's also the place to find those things that are- not quite legal, shall we say. They won't say a word if you don't. If confronted, they are quick to pack up their things and slip away, however; they know this city and its hiding places a lot better than you do. With a brand new batch of what the natives assume are Mirrorbound, many undergoing rapid transformations into their Monster forms, many of the wares on display are potions: supposed cure-alls for aches and itches, calming draughts for the full moon restlessness, some even claim their brews can halt changes entirely! Some concoctions are meant to increase a Witch's magical ability, or decrease it, or provide them a finer control. They offer potions that they say will eliminate the need for a Bond, or temporary Bonding potions of their own that they claim are more pure, stronger, than the ones offered by the Coven. Claims are only claims, though. A few remedies for the pain of changing or some regular temporary Bonding potions can be found here and there, but for every potion that works, there are twenty more that have less than pleasant side effects. A brew that will cause everything you touch to turn to solid gold for up to an hour; a potion that will invert your sense of direction - trying to turn right will make you turn left, trying to go forward will cause you to walk backward; a potion that will remove all traction from your feet, causing you to slide around as if cobblestone are the slickest ice. Worse, some shadier vendors sell things more sinister, including a potion that gives you the appearance of being moderately to heavily infected by the Cwyld. Even if you don't drink any, the vendors are not at all careful where they're sloshing those bottles around, trying to show them off, and they all activate on skin contact.

IV. A Wilde Hunt (7th - 22nd) All Mirrorbound, temporary or not, are likely to feel it. Monsters are always affected by the full moons, but this month, it is more. Stronger. Instincts rise to the surface as the Sisters emerge full and visible in the night sky, and for many Mirrorbound, they are undergoing rapid transformations into whatever type of Monster they are meant to be. Curiously, the natives get along like they usually do, noticing nothing out of the norm, other than the increased agitation and restlessness from Mirrorbound Monsters. Monsters' aggression fades when the Sisters start to wane, but as the new moons approach on the 22nd, Mirrorbound Witches will notice their magical reserves overfilling, and will find themselves stricken with the overwhelming urge to use it, until casting spells, pushing one's magical limits, is almost a compulsion. Those who are not in proper Witch-Monster Bonds will feel it even stronger, with no stabilizing magic to consume (for Monsters) or avenues to expend magic (for Witches) other than casting spells. (For those who are interested, the Coven does offer temporary Bonding potions which can be used to help alleviate the effects somewhat.) The Coven Witches notice the signs, and they take decisive action on the morning of the 6th, the day before the full moons. So many Mirrorbound, likely to be so heavily affected by the lunar cycle this month, many of them coming into new features and abilities at a breakneck pace, only spells danger for the city. They barricade off a massive chunk of Wilde outside Aefenglom, largely free of Cwyld and totally bereft of farms, homes, and Wilder outposts. They invite anyone who feels the effects of the moons too strongly to control to come out for a Hunt. The hunting grounds will be open nightly to anyone who needs to work off restless energy or overflowing magic; all participants will be warned that their safety cannot be guaranteed from others, but they won't be able to harm bystanders out here. The woods are thick, with the river cutting through them, and full of wildlife. There is room to run and chase prey, or room to play with your developing magic. Play cat and mouse with your friends or Bondmates, or stalk a stranger. If playing games isn't your thing, there is something else to hunt out here as well. With the deep Wilde entering into Winter, this patch of land so close to the city is much warmer, and fearsome Shades have emerged to search for prey. These were once living beings, Monsters, Witches, or animals, who have been overtaken by Cwyld infection long ago, leaving them dead but for the infection, white-eyed and seeking out sources of magic to consume and infect. Anything could become a Shade, but the most common out right now are the ferocious remains of bears, wolves, and nomadic Arachne and Turnskins. If not killed, these Shades threaten the people of the Outer City, when they inevitably escape the barricade. Careful to limit your contact, though; anyone infected upon their return to the gates will be escorted straight to the infirmary.

Welcome to May's Fourth Wall event, An Inauspicious Arrival! The comms are now open to comments from all registered users and will be until June 1st. Current players, if you don't want fourth wall characters tagging your posts, just say so in your text. Fourth wall characters can use this post for their own network top-levels, or this post for log top levels. This event is game canon; threads from this fourth wall can be used as application samples later and current players may use these threads for AC. As always, be courteous to each other! Let the mod team know if there are any problems and we will handle things.

As always, please direct your questions to this thread!

Comments

ii. a wilde hunt

[silentsavant]

( as with every fresh batch of extraterrestrial arrivals, soren goes on a determined hunt. anyone who understands him well enough would know who he hopes to find. this time around, he needs to cover more ground than just the coven and surrounding areas. it's easy to pick out the newcomers from natives and the mirrorbound more settled into their new lives for someone as perceptive as soren, but he wouldn't even need to be able to tell the difference to spot the man he's been hoping to see for a year.

it's tough to tell if the odd, piqued sense pinching the forefront of his brain is simply from the unorthodox nature of their summon or something more salient to the dragon.

it's on the sixth of the month that soren decides to follow along with the coven to allow monsters and witches to release some of that pent-up energy in spite of his reservations: he's a dragon, he doesn't trust himself not to harm others nor prevent himself from enjoying a fight too much. he could trust the likes of eren or other dragons to handle him. he does have a bond in place and a bit of a trump card should things go too awry. there is a chance he might find who he's looking for here.

while stalking through the rime-touched wilde (and donning warming enchantments to keep him from going torpid), soren discovers the inconspicuous trace of a curious scent. it wouldn't be accurate to call it familiar if it's so unique to his experiences as a monster. but there is something in the essence of it that stirs him at a deep level, like a nostalgic aroma that evokes a memory that can't be recalled no matter how hard the mind is racked. it's somewhere along the river, laced with magic. he pursues it down the banks with little expectation as to what, or who, he might locate.

and then he spots ranulf on the stilled patch of river. his head reels; the air he sucks could puncture his diaphragm. he halts to reassess whether he's hallucinating (he's done it before, especially on the full moon) or if that "turnskin" with icy blue fur was wearing all the right accouterments to be mistaken for the gallian. he shakes his head, blinks rapidly, but he's still over there testing his weight against the solidified waters.

why the disbelief? now of all times is when he should be expecting a meeting like this to occur, had already considered the possibility that others from tellius could show up today. but it had been a year, a whole year and with nobody he recognized emerging from the glass of a mirror. all of these other mirrorbound finding comfort in familiar faces. it was beginning to seem like it would never happen.

heart charged with an explosive mixture of emotions, he begins hurrying over to greet him, rattling and snapping dead branches like bones. he'd never been quite so senselessly excited to see the cat laguz as he is now, the closest link he has to the place he longs to return to. but then, a frosty notion slows his legs.

how could he have forgotten? horns jut from his head. he has a tail now, and wings and scales. all features pilfered directly from the royal black dragons of goldoa. ranulf could surely see that.

or would he disregard it like soren had done at first? black aflame with red — just like his own hair and eyes.

by the time ranulf would notice him, the sudden hesitance in his approach is clear. whatever soren wanted to say is buried beneath the rush of sudden and foreign self-consciousness. that he would care one whit what a laguz thinks of him anymore?

no... it's concern for how ranulf thinks of him. what's become of him, this freak of nature, this twisted and primitive patchwork of beorc and laguz none of the dragon tribe members on tellius would gaze upon with anything but horror. especially now that the sisters exert their influence upon him, drawing out sharper claws and teeth, wider fins, more scales, blown irises that threaten to eclipse his sclerae and consume his thinned vertical pupils... despite his reluctance to be received, he steels himself with a lowered head, tensed arms and taut wings, but isn't so scared that he won't look ranulf in the eyes when he greets him. )

Ranulf... It's really you.

( oh, dear. his toothy changes have bestowed upon him a bit of a temporary lisp... )

[ranyaulf]

( what does ranulf hear, but heavy footsteps behind him? a noise that has his fur stand up on end, his ears and tail still as he tries to feel the air; it's his gut feeling, his sense of danger that causes him to try to feel what or who may have approached. there's a familiar presence accompanied by the scent of something easily recognized... the combination of which makes him wonder if he should prepare for the worst.

he may not have enough time to do so, though, and he takes one long breath. his shoulders rise and fall, a sense of a numbing calm draped across his back like a second pelt. he could feel his nerves uncoiling as a familiar building of energy prepares him for a shift if necessary, to defend himself. he wouldn't start a fight he couldn't end.

so who he believes he sees as he turns is the main reason why his internal planning goes to sudden and utter chaos. it's not who he expects, as both eyes widen. it's a dragon, of course. he would've easily mistaken the winged being as someone from goldoa. ranulf is now very happy that his claws remain inside; no way he could take on a black dragon by himself. he'd be one roasted cat.

...

but it's also...

he looks different. not just a laguz, but something more? not something less. more imposing, more feral, halfway to some other kind of creature that isn't laguz at all. his tail twitches in irritation, eyes flickering from the fangs to the wings to the scales, to the...

...

it has soren's voice. his breath is stolen from him, he's been winded without being struck, and then he plunges into the water as the ice shatters beneath him, his concentration broken. with an audible gasp of air, ranulf claws his way back to the thin sliver of shore and immediately rolls onto his back. )

Second time... I'm starting to really hate water.

( he stares up, looking at soren upside-down. )

Yeah. It's me. And you're you... right?

[silentsavant]

( as ranulf crashes through the ice, soren jerks in preparation to help him. in the end, he doesn't need it. a part of him deliberates whether to help him back onto his feet or not, but that, too, seems like an unnecessary gesture. besides... he might not want him to lay a single digit on him. he wouldn't blame him for the revulsion.

soren fortifies himself for ranulf's rejection, decides for him that it is an inevitable outcome. it's a defense mechanism that he's built up his entire life: shut someone out before they have a chance to shut him out. in this case it's not quite that, but his heart is already working at freezing over into a hardness that can't be penetrated.

(that's false, too. it's already been hurt. not by anything ranulf has actually done, but preemptively by himself so that the reality of someone else's rejection won't sting.)

his reaction does nothing to reassure him, even if he's acting like his usual self. it's the uncertainty that permeates the way he regards him, the palpable shock at seeing him this way. does he really recognize him at all? why didn't he call him by his name? the dragon's anxiety climbs; he tucks his tail closer to his body and averts his blood-red eyes, so embarrassed by his helpless verbal tic that he hushes it. )

Soren. I, er... know... how unsettling I must be. But surely you've seen Monsters by now. According to this world, that is what I am. What I've become.

[ranyaulf]

( he can breathe again. yes, this is soren. the chill that soaked in his bones leaves him, slowly being replaced by the warmth of recognition, of optimism, and of hope. he probably doesn't have to smile just yet, his tail relaxing along as he slowly sits up and makes his way back onto his feet. )

What a relief! I just didn't want to get my hopes up. ( he rubs his forehead with the back of his hand, sling some of the water dripping off of his hair onto the ground. ) I've seen plenty of Monsters, but none quite like you.

( and not in the sense of dragons, either here or on tellius. no, there is something distinctly regal about soren, but he keeps his mouth closed. that's probably not a compliment that he wants to hear right about now, especially when he looks... anxious.

that's what it is. that's what ultimately strikes ranulf as odd. that tail is basically hiding. he can see it. )

Unsettling isn't the word. I've been on edge ever since I burst through the surface of a fountain.

( ranulf's tail flicks, some drops of water escaping the blue fur. then he grins, hand on his hip. )

I can't believe you think I'd be unsettled by monsters, Soren. I'd take you any day over many, with the exception of one other.

But I also can't believe... you must've been here for a while. Am I right?

[silentsavant]

( ranulf's relief confuses him. there's no trace of insincerity about it, either: he really means it. shouldn't he be more put off by this? or maybe he's just glad that the strange monster who approached him poses no lethal threat. he can't imagine any better reason.

or perhaps, like soren, he's just glad to finally see a familiar face after so many unfamiliar sights. as familiar as he looks like this, anyway. to be regarded like a friend and not a freak, warm and undaunted despite everything that has happened to twist him here, fills soren with an indescribable sort of elation. his anxiety is dashed away, his big red eyes shine as he finally looks at ranulf again. his lip twitches as he holds back this incredible torrent of peculiar feelings threatening to burst through him. )

A year... I've been stuck here a whole year, Ranulf.

( for the first time in the longest time, he finally feels like someone is looking at him, not the monster. he knows soren, has seen soren be himself when he was most assured of who he was. nobody else can say the same here, not even any of his bonds. he can't bring himself to say anything else, even when, or maybe especially perhaps, there is so much he could. )

[ranyaulf]

( it mentally staggers him: a full year? but it seems just like yesterday that he was speaking with the both of them; soren never left ike's side, after all. ranulf even thought that soren had started to warm up around him. weren't the three of them going to depart on an adventure, somewhere far away from tellius?

he's conflicted. but what ranulf does know is that soren wouldn't lie about something as grave as this. days and days, weeks, months away from a friendly and familiar face? there's no doubt that if ike was here, that they would be together, and that he would be meeting them both here in a reunion of sorts.

ranulf lets out a breath, shakes his head. soren would probably never say it outright, but the look on his face is proof enough. he's suffering, and hopefully ranulf can do something to relieve him in some way. that's what the both of them need right now, in some way. )

A whole year... well. I'm glad I've found you, then. I'm sorry that I don't know much about how I've arrived here. Apparently, this has been a pretty surprising event of sorts.

( and then the laguz turns again, looks back at the water. )

Did you see what I did? I was able to freeze some of it... I wanted to see if I could glide across the water.

( his tail flicks as he returns to face soren. changing the subject felt like... it would allow them both to breathe. just for a moment. )

[silentsavant]

( it's not easy to shake soren from one of his Moods. still, he looks over to the cracked shelf of ice left over from ranulf's experiment. )

Not bad. Especially for an amateur. ( hmm. odd enough to be worth noting? he returns his focus back to the cat. a witch who is also a cat... ) Never thought you'd get to play with magic like this, I bet.

( he's grateful that ranulf is spared the horrors of body transformation. not that he's a stranger to changing from human to animal, but the excruciating shift over months and months into something you never were before is what's terrible. ranulf would hate becoming a cat-fish, for example. (and learn to finally embrace the water he keeps falling into...) an idea skips across his mind. before he gets to that, he releases a sigh of wry amusement. )

This is ridiculous. It's almost like we've changed places. I transform, and you can do magic. ( okay! he's slowly being worked out of the grim mire of his starting mood. there's still so much he wants to tell, to ask, but... this is natural. one thing at a time. ) Have you heard of the concept of Bonding yet? And no, I don't mean in the traditional sense of the word.

[ranyaulf]

( he should be happy to have received such a compliment from a mage like soren, whose natural talents and learned skills made him one of the more vicious fighters on a battlefield. if those things weren't enough, it was the lack of hesitation when it came to making the right choices regardless of how difficult it might've been. )

The only reason I felt like I needed do something was because I felt... pent up. ( that's the best way to put it, and even now the reserves are building back up. he feels like he's swelling up, the air bending around his body. it's uncomfortable and ranulf needs to try to work that excess off. he knows he has to, somehow. )

Are you saying I can't shift while I'm here? ( he widens his eyes. he hasn't felt the need to, when he hasn't felt in true danger. ) You know... if we could, I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat.

( but what ranulf doesn't quite understand is that he might not be able to be a cat. (a catfish would be pretty cute, all things considered...) )

Bonding? I heard it mentioned. Supposed to be beneficial, right? I haven't had any time to Bond with anyone just yet... been too busy getting my feet underneath me.

[silentsavant]

( ranulf's new unknown settles over soren like a damp blanket, leaving him clammy at the sympathy of losing a keystone of identity. )

I don't know whether you can still shift or not. You're the first laguz I know of who has come through the mirrors. I just know that I can't practice magic quite like I used to. If you'd like to test it out, you know what to do.

But not having a Bond after only a few days is to be expected. The reason I bring it up now is because when a Witch Bonds to a Monster, their magic becomes stronger and easier to use. ( his hand dives into the confines of his dark cloak, where he rummages around in a pocket at his hip. ) At a fundamental level, to Bond is to tie one's magical signature to another's. To arrange this semi-permanently requires a ceremony held at the Coven... ( he presents two tiny glass vials of silvery liquid pinched between his scaly fingers for ranulf to see. ) But there is a way to do so temporarily. If we drink these potions together, you might find that being tied to me will enhance your magical output. Use me as a focus of sorts to consume your excess magic, channel it into something less unwieldy. Would you like to try?

( it would be a good introduction to this mechanism, and what better way than with someone familiar? )

[ranyaulf]

( he stares at the vials, at the liquid contained in each, and he hums in thought. why would soren propose something temporary? does he know something that ranulf doesn't? that's actually pretty likely, given the cirumstances--- soren's been here for a year, after all. there's so much that ranulf doesn't know that he feels like he needs to and as the representative of the laguz alliance... what if he needed to establish some kind of physical presence?

what's there to lose when soren is the most trustworthy person he could've imagined encountering? and finally not to mention, it must be something he wants.

a full year... )

If it means I'll stop feeling like I'm about to explode, sure.

( reaching forward, he takes one of the vials. his finger brushes against soren's scaly one, and he smiles lightly. )

Do I just drink it now? Or do we have to hold hands, or say some words, or...

[silentsavant]

( his lips twitch as he scowls in a light rush of embarrassment at the silly notion. )

We drink it together. Bear in mind that once we are bound, we will also be able to feel each other's emotions... though fainter than in an official Bond. ( which is definitely something soren intends to discuss. if he could have one bond right now with anyone currently in aefenglom, only one, this is who he would choose. (a contest between cat people... who knew soren would surround himself with so many felines!!) ) It's... rather intimate. But necessary for me. Without one, a Monster risks going feral after too many full moons. ( he uncorks it to broadcast his intent to ranulf. )

[ranyaulf]

( that's the scowl that he's come to recognize and... not necessarily love, but something that's so recognizable and in a very odd way, endearing. it's a touch of the familiar that settles ranulf, grounds him as he pops the cork off with his thumb and nods. )

Intimate? ( it sounds like it, but ranulf is too busy focused on the benefits not just for himself, but the ones that would help soren. the word feral strikes him in the most serious way--- to think of soren, someone he believes as being the most rational and reasonable at times, falling into that kind of mindset? it's horrific.

the idea of soren also opening up to others is also... he can't possibly like either of the outcomes or results, but as long as he's safe? well, ranulf's admiration of the tactician has only grown stronger. )

Okay. Here's to us, I guess.

( ranulf's seen beorc toast before, offering words before a drink. this is no different, right? raising the vial to his lips, he ingests the silvery liquid with closed eyes. )

[silentsavant]

( there's only a silent acknowledgment on soren's end as he chomps the vial whole lifts the potion to his mouth along with ranulf. the effects begin to take place soon after they are finished.

each time soren bonds, the anxiety that precedes it diminishes as he grows accustomed to lending another something so personal as a taste of his emotions. it gets easier, but it will never completely go away, especially when he has to give this part of himself over to a near stranger. however, this is rather different. it could even be said that soren was eager for this connection to ranulf. not in the same way as a dog wags his tail for his owner's return, but more like how a roof is sought to stand under while the skies open wet fire on the earth, or how a bed promises warmth when the room is drafty. waiting for a favored tea to finish brewing, or knowing that you will be greeted when you come home after a long journey. it's a longing for comfort, for security. someone who sees the boy embedded in the haunting draconic features of an unrealized identity he'd just as soon cast aside. a friend of ike. a reliable ally.

there is no resistance in soren's heart to him. he is stable, even content, all the leftover concerns he still has about this situation as a whole reduced to background noise that can be listened to later. as with all temporary bonds, the feelings are muted... but there is definitely a faint presence of something between them now that wasn't before. the dragon looks off to the river. )

Good. Now that we're Bonded, go ahead and try practicing the same ice spell you were using before.

[ranyaulf]

( there is no taste, which is a good thing--- he smacks his lips a few times to try to discern any kind of flavor but finds it to be nothing. yet, he can feel a warmth pool in his stomach which soon travels to his extremities; from the tips of his ears to the end of his tail, ranulf isn't sure what to make of this bonding thing right away. it's not like anything has changed immediately, though as soon as he opens his mouth to say something and looks to soren to see his reaction...

ah.

it's his first time and while ranulf doesn't expect some kind of outpouring of emotions, it's a feeling of weight. it's comforting and steadying and that brings him some of that same. he's lucky and he'll certainly count his stars later, because to have his first bond with soren and not someone else is a blessing. it brings him joy as well. how could he not be happy?

having a part of home here... )

Okay. ( with a confident nod, he faces the water and closes his eyes. before, there was no feeling of control; what happened, happened. he was lucky that nothing backfired. but now? he can feel the ice stream from his fingers while whispering to himself (is it some kind of incantation? maybe he's trying to steady himself with self-inspiring words of confidence). he draws a pattern in front of him before smoothing out the air in front of him.

the water shimmers, then freezes. a perfect swath imitating the motions he made seconds prior.

and when he's done, ranulf opens his eyes. he already expects the results, and his tail bobs in excitement. )

Soren, look! Did you see that? Man... Skrimir's head would be spinning if he saw this.

this is killing me... SOREN'S NEVER HAPPY I'M SO

[silentsavant]

( soren can't even help himself — he chuckles at the remark, a tiny skipping sound in his throat that almost never happens, not to him. and he's smiling, and the size of his irises have reduced to something less absurd, a bit more human.

he hasn't laughed in... ages. he's never been given to laughter, and when amusement strikes, it's usually one sharp puff of air through his nose. but this is pure laughter, quick-lived but real. his voice remains warm and bright. he shakes his head. )

He wouldn't know his tail from his head. Next thing you know, he'd be begging me to help him... but even if he could use magic, his attempts would be catastrophic at worst, failures at best.

( he would get impatient, as he is wont to do. but skrimir has it in him to shut up and listen, especially when soren is talking. in his rush of euphoria, soren swings his arms out and clasps ranulf by the hands, minds the sharpness of his own claws, looks him in the heterochromatic eyes. )

Tactile reinforcement is another thing you should know about. It serves to strengthen the connection between us further, which helps us both.

( and ranulf's excitement over improvement mixed with their joking over skrimir resounds like an echo chamber, leaving soren happy in return. )

Re: this is killing me... SOREN'S NEVER HAPPY I'M SO

[ranyaulf]

( how could he keep himself from laughing when even soren does, though his is cheery and still somewhat reserved, dulled by the idea that he may never see the king reign again. then again, ranulf didn't plan on staying for very long after skrimir got comfortable with his throne. no, he was excited for a new adventure to places that he's never seen, alongside someone important to them both.

his thoughts are broken by hands carefully holding onto his, surprised out of his stupor, and his everything perks up. ranulf's tail shoots up, his ears do the same, and both of his eyebrows raise as he looks soren straight back into his eyes. they're soren's, no matter what shape or size or color they may be, shining with an enthusiasm that he feels like would be reserved for that same person they both share an affection toward.

soren's hands... he squeezes them. )

Really? ( it is pleasant, and not just in a shallow way. ) Hey, come with me.

( he leads them both to the ice, where ranulf fearlessly takes a step onto it. it feels sturdier, less likely to snap, and he's confident it'd support their weight. )

[silentsavant]

( soren follows along, one hand still linked as he tests the ice cautiously. it isn't that ranulf's confidence doesn't boost him with faith in his abilities, just a natural facet of the tactician's wary personality. the dragon isn't all that heavy, not at his current size... but heavier than he used to be. (not that he remembers being any form bigger than this.) it holds, only one creaking note of protest that never gives way.

this... bothers him. nobody who emerges from the mirrors should be this adept at their magic unless they were dreaming. how did ranulf know what incantation to utter, which sigils to draw? what does it mean? a cold dread swims in his chest for this. )

You're a little too remarkable for an inexperienced Witch, Ranulf. ( he tries to keep from slipping, holding faster to his companion's grip. ) It's starting to worry me.

[ranyaulf]

( that's... a good point. ranulf's brows furrow and thankfully that concern doesn't do anything to interrupt his concentration on maintaining the ice they're stepping on. with a gentle hum, the laguz raises his other hand to his chin and thumbs his chin in thought. even the mages from tellius had some experience with their tomes or staves, while ranulf basically just waltzed right over and did the thing without hesitation. )

Maybe I'm just taking after some of the best and brightest from home. ( even though he winks and grins, maybe that apprehension is growing to where his grip slowly firms. ) Or... maybe it has to do with how unusual the circumstances have been, with some of the others that showed up right around when I did.

( downplaying the sudden seriousness of the situation is all he can do. either way, it's beyond him. )

It feels natural, though. Not sure how to explain it any other way. Do you think this temporary Bond will help at all?

[silentsavant]

With your magic, yes. ( the concern hasn't left him, but it won't stop nipping even after the conversation of it has ended. ranulf is right: the sudden arrival has everything to do with this strange batch of mirrorbound. but what will happen to them? are they truly bound to this world, or...

soren continues to look pensive at the surface of the ice for a few beats longer. )

But what will help more than that is if we committed to our Bond. ( he rotates on his toes to face him more fully, his bearing serious as ever but resolute, the traces of uncertainty regarding ranulf's status dashed. whatever the reason for him behaving like a dreamer, nothing would change that this would benefit them both, for however long it is meant to last. ) If you are to stay here, I would highly recommend it. Not just to improve your magic, but to keep it from building up inside of you to a dangerous degree. It's for your safety. And I would like to offer myself as your partner, if you would have me.

( this... seems an awful lot like a (poorly executed) marriage proposal, soren... do you have any self-awareness to be even a little bit embarrassed? doesn't look like it. )

[ranyaulf]

( he's already felt the magic inside of him ready to burst, before soren arrived; an incredibly unpleasant feeling that has yet to resurface since their temporary bond. somewhat lost in thought, ranulf is surprised by the sudden stance that the dragon takes in front of him, speaking with the kind of heart that's faintly reminiscent of their mutual friend.

it makes ranulf smile. soren, looking out for him. )

You did say those were temporary potions... so it would be smart to make it permanent.

( lowering his head and with rosy cheeks, he gently nudges soren's forehead with his own. )

I'm beyond lucky, aren't I?

[silentsavant]

( i-it's not like he's looking out because he cares or anything!!! GOSH soren's fucked. he's so not accustomed to physical intimacy nor the warmth fluttering merrily in his chest that his face screws up in wide-eyed, pouting embarrassment for a moment before averting his entire flaming face fast enough that his hair flips. he's roasting... and he's not even warm-blooded!

don't ask how that works.

but in the same motion, he lets go of his hand like it's too hot for him to handle. . . and starts slipping and sliding! )

Wh-ah!

( such beauty, such grace... will he fall on his face? will he break the ice? will ranulf catch him? or will he bowl into ranulf's legs and make them both take a tumble... stay tuned until next tag! )

[ranyaulf]

( oh no. he should've seen this coming; surely soren was more graceful without the various dragon accoutrements, but in this current state? it's probably a lot more difficult to control the weight (does he look heavier, ranulf doesn't think so but appearances can be deceiving). and as much as he wants to reach out and catch soren, something in the back of his mind slips. it feels like, if anything, there's a blip of concentration that makes that ice suddenly feel very unsafe.

and then, completely gone.

plunging into the water, ranulf forces himself to power through and back to dry land, but this time instead of laying out? he shakes his body quickly, getting the water to fling off his fur and clothes at an incredibly effective but also careless manner. )

Eh? Soren! Soren, are you okay?

[silentsavant]

( nobody's graceful when they're slipping on ice! the dragon boy capsizes beneath the small islands of broken ice that rock with the tumult of his crashing body and escape downstream with the current. his horned head bursts from the waters with a sharp, sputtering gasp, eyes glowing a fearsome red. with a coughing growl, he takes a winged leap from his cold and liquid straits. )

Ranulf!

( uh-oh! he's all riled up now! not only does he sound miffed, but his drenched clothes and sopping hair render him quite the miserable sight and his expression peels with aggravation that has the unfortunate quality of looking far worse than it's really felt, a monster with glowering pupil-less eyes and clenched fangs flashing. his intent flags pursuit, hot and heavy across their bond — he's coming to get him and he'd better head for the hills! )

[ranyaulf]

( whatever requisite he needs to transform? well, this is probably one of them. it's not the first time he's seen soren upset, but to the point where his eyes are literally nothing and with the sharpest fangs he's witnessed in quite some time? well, that gets the tiniest bit of tongue peeking out between his lips. the familiar whitish-blue light surrounds him and soon he's on all fours, tail writing behind him like a charmed snake.

it's the heat of... is that his anger? is it rage? whatever it is, it has him laughing. it's been a long time since he's been chased, and his legs need some stretching. it's not the nervous energy of a youth, but it feels close. he can't really focus on why it's that way.

either way.

the ground is a blur as he dashes, paws peppering the earth with a particular grace. the closest and lowest branch receives his attention, and ranulf takes that opportunity to start using the trees as his way to avoid the dragon, bouncing from limb to limb.

he's fast--- maybe a hair slower than what he'd consider his fastest. after all, ranulf doesn't want to get caught. or maybe he does. )

[silentsavant]

( the longer the dragon gives chase, the more his flash of anger tempers at having been made a fool of — by his own doing, he would begrudgingly acknowledge, though taken out on the cat — but the heat of the mortification and the icy shock provoked him into this. his outrage sublimates with each bound into something brighter, something that rarely lifts his bogged-down spirits especially these days: thrill. of the chase, of pursuing the form of an old and trusted ally through the skeletal wintry shadows of unfamiliar wilderness with unflinching determination to catch him, almost as if he loses sight of him, he will do so forever.

that presentiment remains a peripheral concern, a doubt his greater mind won't let dominate because while it may be true in the broader scope of things, it won't be true for this moment. he's too focused on the wind streaking past his face through his hair, the scents that fill his nostrils and his head with information he could have never obtained as a mere branded, the cat's nimble liquid maneuvers that always keep him just out of reach, the single-mindedness of finally pinning his prey down for keeps... soren can tell he's teasing him, knows when he's feinting lower speeds just to whet his hopes even when in reality he could outstrip him if he really wanted to, and that only goads the dragon on more. when ranulf takes to the branches, he takes to wing, using those new appendages of his to spring and leap right after him. it's good practice. but strangely enough? it's... fun.

they keep up their chase like this for a few fast-paced moments longer until soren aims a weak blast of white-blue breath at one of the limbs ranulf is about to land on. )