![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
June catch-all!
Who: Urianger & mostly-open
When: Throughout June
Where: Lots of places
What: Quests and magic practice
Warnings: accidental use of hallucinogens in one prompt (illusion magic is not a toy)
I - Berry Picking
[The flyer Urianger saw did mention some side-effects to the scent of these berry plants, but not ones that seemed terribly concerning. Partly it's that his tolerance for mildly embarrassing shenanigans has been recalibrated by years among the pixies; mostly it's that he doesn't expect to encounter too many other people in the process, and there are surely worse things than spending an afternoon harmlessly intoxicated and earning money for it.
By the time he does encounter anyone else participating in the task, he's feeling too pleasantly mellow to bother moving away, so he'll just offer a friendly smile, and if they're shorter than he is (which is most people, really) he'll even pull one of the branches down to be a little more within their reach.]
The harvest is bountiful enough to share and share alike.
II - The Silent Forest - closed to Sephiroth
[Urianger hasn't been out this far past the walls before, although he's heard stories and of course read up as much as he could. The chill in the air would almost be a relief from summer's heat, if not for the heaviness of the silence, the feeling of something waiting. The Cwyld-twisted flora are a grotesque reminder of the potential consequences of touching the wrong thing, too.
They haven't seen much in the way of what passes for wildlife out here yet, but Urianger knows it's only a matter of time before the hungry things come calling.]
Hast thou spent much time in the Wilde prior to this journey? I had envisioned it grim, yet I doubt I could have fully anticipated the truth without bearing witness myself.
III - Out of the City
[Throughout the month, Urianger will be venturing into the Outer City along with others from the Coven, to offer medicine and healing for those in the slums who need it. He's got a good, reassuring manner that makes things run smoothly, and will be happy to assist anyone else engaged in similar work.
Time and again, however, he gets asked to help calm or mind a patient's child while they undergo treatment. As often as not, this leads one thing to another until he's spending much of his afternoon entertaining children instead. After a few days of this, he gives in and brings a storybook with him; find him sitting among a small crowd of children, reading a story about a young witch and her mischief-prone familiar.]
IV - Illusion misfire
[Urianger is not a complete fool. Since he's decided to work on a different school of magic, one he hasn't attempted before, he's set up the new working outside in the yard of the house he shares with the Exarch and two Warriors of Light, where a mishap can't ruin his wallpaper. He's already succeeded in producing a few very simple visual illusions: next is to attempt to bind and embed one within a clear crystal he's procured for the purpose. Laid out on a blanket on the grass, he has a softly-glowing blue-purple mushroom - a gift from Tataru a few months back - and the crystal he intends to hold the spell.
Being out in the open, it's quite possible for either a resident of the household or any onlooking visitor to stop by and observe. They may regret the choice, however, when the magic wobbles out of control, the mushroom goes up in a cloud of purplish smoke, and the world around them fills with hazy, swirling patterns and strange colors. It should only last for a few hours at most...at least it's a nice sunny day, and there's a blanket to lie on?
For anyone who doesn't want to experience the misfire's effects themselves, they are still quite welcome to find Urianger sitting on the lawn. There's illusion magic residue hanging in the vicinity, and he seems to have spent at least the last hour or two extremely fascinated with the movement of the trees.]
V - Other
[Want a different prompt? PM or hit me up on Plurk and I can set one up! You're also free to assume he's available to run into in any given bookshop or library, if you want to write your own.]
When: Throughout June
Where: Lots of places
What: Quests and magic practice
Warnings: accidental use of hallucinogens in one prompt (illusion magic is not a toy)
I - Berry Picking
[The flyer Urianger saw did mention some side-effects to the scent of these berry plants, but not ones that seemed terribly concerning. Partly it's that his tolerance for mildly embarrassing shenanigans has been recalibrated by years among the pixies; mostly it's that he doesn't expect to encounter too many other people in the process, and there are surely worse things than spending an afternoon harmlessly intoxicated and earning money for it.
By the time he does encounter anyone else participating in the task, he's feeling too pleasantly mellow to bother moving away, so he'll just offer a friendly smile, and if they're shorter than he is (which is most people, really) he'll even pull one of the branches down to be a little more within their reach.]
The harvest is bountiful enough to share and share alike.
II - The Silent Forest - closed to Sephiroth
[Urianger hasn't been out this far past the walls before, although he's heard stories and of course read up as much as he could. The chill in the air would almost be a relief from summer's heat, if not for the heaviness of the silence, the feeling of something waiting. The Cwyld-twisted flora are a grotesque reminder of the potential consequences of touching the wrong thing, too.
They haven't seen much in the way of what passes for wildlife out here yet, but Urianger knows it's only a matter of time before the hungry things come calling.]
Hast thou spent much time in the Wilde prior to this journey? I had envisioned it grim, yet I doubt I could have fully anticipated the truth without bearing witness myself.
III - Out of the City
[Throughout the month, Urianger will be venturing into the Outer City along with others from the Coven, to offer medicine and healing for those in the slums who need it. He's got a good, reassuring manner that makes things run smoothly, and will be happy to assist anyone else engaged in similar work.
Time and again, however, he gets asked to help calm or mind a patient's child while they undergo treatment. As often as not, this leads one thing to another until he's spending much of his afternoon entertaining children instead. After a few days of this, he gives in and brings a storybook with him; find him sitting among a small crowd of children, reading a story about a young witch and her mischief-prone familiar.]
IV - Illusion misfire
[Urianger is not a complete fool. Since he's decided to work on a different school of magic, one he hasn't attempted before, he's set up the new working outside in the yard of the house he shares with the Exarch and two Warriors of Light, where a mishap can't ruin his wallpaper. He's already succeeded in producing a few very simple visual illusions: next is to attempt to bind and embed one within a clear crystal he's procured for the purpose. Laid out on a blanket on the grass, he has a softly-glowing blue-purple mushroom - a gift from Tataru a few months back - and the crystal he intends to hold the spell.
Being out in the open, it's quite possible for either a resident of the household or any onlooking visitor to stop by and observe. They may regret the choice, however, when the magic wobbles out of control, the mushroom goes up in a cloud of purplish smoke, and the world around them fills with hazy, swirling patterns and strange colors. It should only last for a few hours at most...at least it's a nice sunny day, and there's a blanket to lie on?
For anyone who doesn't want to experience the misfire's effects themselves, they are still quite welcome to find Urianger sitting on the lawn. There's illusion magic residue hanging in the vicinity, and he seems to have spent at least the last hour or two extremely fascinated with the movement of the trees.]
V - Other
[Want a different prompt? PM or hit me up on Plurk and I can set one up! You're also free to assume he's available to run into in any given bookshop or library, if you want to write your own.]
IV
He completely forgets that he was trying to identify whether that was a pixie's parasol or not. He forgets that he was going to ask Urianger what sort of magic he was performing, or even that he needed to introduce himself at all. He forgets a great deal in a wink of time because the sky has become a coursing river, the magic in the air tastes like soap, and Urianger is melting, eye sliding down his downward-drifting face like a surrealist painting, or like the gumball slowly descending down a popsicle's cartoon character face.
Soren's face looks half parts stunned, half parts concerned. His body feels like it's made of lead as he takes great effort to point at him.]
Urianger... I need to tell you something. You're melting.
no subject
Melting. Yes. That would be a problem. He looks down again, and pats his arms, his face.]
...I feel...
[He doesn't finish the thought, mostly because the bracelets he wears are definitely moving in the wrong way, as if they're made of something much softer than metal. The light that glints from them is dancing by itself, turning into coruscating rainbows. It's very pretty.
There was something important.]
...Magic.
[Words are very hard right now. His mind normally runs faster than his mouth, even when he's not being thoroughly bombarded with unusual sensory input, and right now turning his thoughts into words just seems like so much effort. He tries to slow down and focus on getting words out of the part of his brain that does them.]
The rainbows are for Tataru. For her prisms. They alter clothes into...fashion.
[He's not explaining this very well, but to be fair the spirals in the grass are extremely distracting.]
i'm dying
[He doesn't see any rainbows. And then he stops caring about the details of Tataru's prismatic fashion because the state of Urianger is only deteriorating the longer they chat. He lowers himself to his level and stares transfixed at the horror of his slip-and-slide face, his goopy, dripping arm... The dragon reaches out a scaly dark hand, tentatively at first, then decisively to cup his face to see if he couldn't stem the leakage. This is so disturbing.]
Who cares about that? [He retrieves his palm from his jawline and his eyes widen.] Your goop is on my hands...
[He looks around for something, anything to use to help him. Then, he realizes something: the grass is... oddly adhesive. He pats it down, the stickiness clinging unpleasantly to his hands, but in a pinch it might help him stick his facial features back in place until he figures out how to undo this terrible... magic? A low level of panic seeps from his voice, uncharacteristic of his usual demeanor.]
Stop whatever you're doing. It's making you melt. [He reaches into one of those spirals visible to Urianger, plucks his sticky grass tape, and tries to fix his nose.
...What really ends up happening is this: Soren just forcibly fed Urianger some grass.]
no subject
[He doesn't remember anymore what he was about to say, because his mouth is suddenly full of the taste of green, still strangely humming and twirling against his teeth. He opens his mouth in a wide grimace to let it fall out, but the bright taste lingers unpleasantly.
He's not very sure what's going on, as the world continues to brighten and warp around him, but he is pretty sure that whatever Soren means to do isn't actually helping. He grabs for Soren's wrist, meaning to hold him in place and stop him from doing that again, but in the last few seconds Soren has started leaving a trail of colorful afterimages behind him, and it's one of those Urianger tries to grab instead, his fingers only brushing the smaller man's sleeve.]
I am well. 'Tis only the ground.
[What he means is, the ground is definitely rising and falling like ocean waves now. The blanket is obviously the only thing keeping them from sinking into it, but they seem safe as long as they stay on it.]
Prithee have caution - I cannot swim to retrieve thee if thou chance to fall in...
no subject
[The reason becomes immediately obvious. All he has to do is remember the pixie parasol vaporizing just a minute or so ago. And then his scowl takes a turn for the worse.]
Oh. I know why. [sigh....] This wasn't how I was planning on spending my day, but you've thrown a magical mushroom into the works. Thank you for making me useless.
[And make him make a fool of himself worrying over Urianger Dali over here!!!! Soren wipes the rest of the grass bundled in his hand on Urianger's
muumuulap, stands up with a wobble as gravity still exerts way too much force to be real, and tries to leave in a huff, but... his balance is rather compromised, so he falters and walks the plank into the grass ocean with a soft 'oof'. He tries to get up, but his body is just too heavy, and moreover, the grass still feels sticky no matter how high he knows he is.So he just lays there like a lump and rides the sudden floaty feeling that starts to tumble through his brain.]
no subject
...The mushroom. The spell.
He groans and closes his eyes for a moment, then reopens them quickly, unwilling to face the patterns weaving across the backs of his eyelids for too long.]
This outcome was none of mine own intention either...
[His thoughts are still swimming away almost as fast as he can form them, but at least now that he's grasped what's happening, he's a little more lucid about the nature of reality. Like that while Soren appears to be floating on the ground's rippling surface, he can't possibly be in any actual danger of sinking.]
...'Tis likely unwise...to meddle further, however.
[It will probably dissipate in time.
Hopefully.
Whatever time is.
He keeps staring at Soren even after he's stopped talking, watching the visible patches of scales ripple and shimmer, the ones at the edges of his face sometimes expanding in coverage, then retreating again when Urianger's focus changes. How interesting.]
no subject
What's done is done.
[And he... can't remember exactly what he was intending to do before this, but what he trawls from the sinking wreckage of his thoughts is that it had to do with his Bonded and it wasn't all that important, anyway. On that note, hopefully he doesn't come outside or glance out the window to witness any instances of odd behavior on his part, or that this doesn't sympathetically transfer over somehow and turn him delirious, too. But he's at a point where he doesn't care. About anything, really. He just hopes his mind decides to play nice and not continue to produce disturbing sensations for him.
He rolls over with great effort onto his back and watches the sky flow in its tranquil rush, feels, feels Urianger's eyes on him. It makes him brush the side of his scales where the soft pressure of his jittering transfixion lingers, and he slowly scrolls his dilated eye contact to the other man, who has stopped oozing from every pore but now towers and stretches over him like a giant. Not like an Elezen, but a giant. Soren feels like an ant.]
Why are you staring at me like that?
III
It's one of those days and Sora notices that there seems to be a man reading stories to the younger children and despite Sora being seventeen years old he can't help but come a little closer to see what the stories are about. The man has a very teacher-like vibe to him and there's something about the scene that is kind of adorable.
Sora is a monster so his long rabbit ears twitch when he listens.]
What kind of stories are you telling?
no subject
This story is of a young witch who hath a fear of travel. Her familiar hath run out the door of their home, and she doth continue to follow it further and further, ever just a few steps behind.
[He tilts the book so that the current illustration is more visible: it's a watercolor painting of a little girl in a simple dress, trying to climb to the top of a wall where a cat sits waiting for her.]
no subject
So this teenager decides to sit down to enjoy the rest of it. He's a sponge, really.]
Did she ever get her cat? Did she have to use magic?
IV-Well this is a good way to meet
Perhaps it is due to working with potions and illusion magic that she doesn't feel so effected but she does try to give him a little wave.]
Are you...still awake?
[Uri, are you stoned?]
the best way, truly
Aye, I believe so.
[His gaze wanders back away, toward the movement of shadows across the grass.]
Though 'tis not so easy...to know. Would that I could...
[He waves a hand vaguely, nearly catching Mira in the gesture. This does seem to refocus his attention a little more upon her, though, and he frowns and blinks before prodding her shoulder with a fingertip.]
Thou art solid.
no subject
The poking only gets an eyebrow raise as she crouches down to try and save some neck pain.]
I would assume so otherwise it would not be a good day. But what exactly are you trying to do?
no subject
[His gaze has drifted away again, back to patterns of sunlight and leaves and half-imagined fractal structures that he wishes he had the wherewithal to record properly.]
...Or until...someone comes.
[He turns his head back toward her, eyes following out of sync, as if his attention is sliding from place to place.]
Perhaps 'tis thee?
[For once in his life, Urianger is not using nearly enough words.]
no subject
[She frowns, first thoughts going to 'he doesn't look so good'.]
What were you doing before this?
no subject
[His expression lights up in a smile, and he blinks several times in quick succession. Give him a minute, his sense of time is very wonky right now.]
The prisms, for Tataru. ...I must needs make another attempt. After...
[He waves a hand vaguely at the trees and sky, and chuckles faintly. Well, he definitely sounds like he thinks he's making sense...]
no subject
[Three...two...one...and then it clicked. Tataru mentioned glamour prisms and had wanting to do so. Mira had told her that she was studying Illusion magic but not the reason why (to help Fordola) and she groans, dragging her hand down her face.]
Glamour prisms. Bloody hells, why didn't Tataru mention that there's another person to call upon for it?! We could have made some progress together!
[Honestly, can anyone here actually do some kind of contact for these things?! She's not angry at him, just the feeling of 'maybe I could have helped' is just sinking in more.]
You're not feeling dizzy or sick, are you?
no subject
Though in no great distress, I am...seeing too many things to be certain of moving about. And thus I shall remain here.
[Pause, more processing]
It seemed unwise...to attempt to dispel on my own. I have hoped it will fade, in time. If not...this path is in the open. Someone will find me.
[He smiles at her, as if encouragingly.]
And here thou art, so I am found.
no subject
Illusions tend to do that. For now it's a good idea to wait it out and see how you're feeling; dealing with new kinds of magic and just learning what they can do feels like trial and error. Fury knows I've had a few of those moments.
[Even Archons can be big dorks at times. The fact that he smiles at her, makes Mira feel a bit better.]
If you want, I can stay with you until the magic settles.
the silent forest.
[He has been out into the Wilde often enough, a habit started not too long since his arrival to this planet. Partly to quell curiosity, partly to keep the restlessness at bay — the latter of which he is so desperately prone to, in ways that are only detrimental to a mind equally given to wandering.
Crafted as a weapon, it is hard to allow one’s edge to go dull.
And so he fills it with missions such as these; easier still to accept one from a newly-made Bondmate, instilling a strange familiarity with each other that makes teamwork easier. Sephiroth is still not a man of social closeness — nor will he ever be — but Urianger has gained a modicum more of comfort than most, merely through his cool countenance alone. It makes it easy to carry a conversation, even if he must do the lion’s share of the work.]
There’s no better place to keep me sharp than out here. Even the Barrack’s training grounds can only provide so much.
[They sweep through a thicket of trees with branches hanging low. Both will have to duck under and push aside the excess limbs, and Sephiroth particularly has to be careful with how he weaves past. Urianger will easily note, of course, a change to his person — large black wings folded against his back, the striations of flight feathers shining in the light. Another change of a harpy, descended upon him.]
no subject
He pauses before responding to make sure they both move safely past the hanging branches. A limb cracks in his grip as he bends it too far, and he drops it immediately, alarmed by the potential for sap leakage or falling debris. Fortunately, with everything frozen by the paradoxical winter, none seems immediately forthcoming, although the core of the branch shows threads of creeping darkness throughout. He shudders and moves onward.]
I should have expected as much. I...had imagined my caution in this matter a sensible enough gesture, ensuring that I should not inconvenience others before my presence on the field carried at least some meaning. Yet now that the time for hesitation hath passed, I feel the weight of mine inexperience. ...I shall endeavor not to overburden thee.
[He's surveying the path ahead of them as he speaks, carefully planning every step of his course; even though he's wearing actual boots instead of sandals for once, he doesn't mean to take any chances.]
Though it be a sign of the corruption, the slumbering of nature beneath winter's cloak is at least a small mercy.
no subject
His sword, of course, is held at ready; he will meet any threat with it, though there is none to be seen right now.]
You’ll not be a burden.
[A statement of believed fact rather than assurance. Both, maybe.]
As I recall, you do have battle experience, anyhow. [Their first meeting, an exchange of memories. It’s nestled quite clearly in his mind.]
Even without the magic of your homeworld, you know how to handle yourself. You’re far from reckless.
I
[The berries, however, are another story completely. She doesn't expect the leaves of the berries to be intoxicating. Couple that with the low tolerance she has as a fae, and the result is one very beyond buzzed pixie.]
Aren't they, though? I can't remember the last time that berries smelled so wonderful.
[Which leads her to being uncharacteristically positive, as she attempts to fly up, pick a berry...and accidentally crash into Urianger. Oops.]
no subject
Prithee have care!
[The difference in their sizes is enough by now that he should be able to safely catch her despite the unexpected push...
...but he's also a bit dizzy, and doesn't quite correct his lean in time to keep from stumbling a little. He grabs for the nearest branch to steady himself, which turns out to be a mistake, as the nearest branch holds several ripe berries. They squash in his grip as he slides inexorably downward, and he ends up sitting on the ground staring in mild dismay at the mess left on his hand.
At least his basket of berries remained upright enough to keep his existing haul intact.]
IV
…I don't suppose that was dye, was it?