middaeg | [open] give me the dough bro

Entry tags:

[open] give me the dough bro

Who: Irhya and OPEN
When: All July/Juril
Where: Throughout!
What: Quests and general catch-all for threads!
Warnings: None? Yet, that I know of.

1) Avant-Garde

[Irhya is not new to designing and coordinating outfits. Alas, her weakness to sunlight just means she can't really model them herself, at least during prime hours. Instead, she decides to help the tailors and designers figure out how Mirrorbound fashions work, and perhaps learn a thing or two in the process. (Elastic, as it turns out, is a fantastic thing.)

You may have come in to get something commissioned or fixed up, or you may have been pulled in off the street for "looking like" a Mirrorbound. Or maybe you're even helping the tailors yourself. Nonetheless, you are immediately bombarded with a very earnest question, one that demands an answer.]

Quick. What's your favorite color combination? Don't stop to think about it.

2) Pat-a-Cake

[Look. Normally, she's fine with dishing out compliments where necessary, but she can't take them for shite, and forcing them is just awkward as all hell. Trouble is, she needs this bread to shove down a certain gloomy arsehole's throat if she can manage it, or so the plan goes. So she turns to the nearest person rolling the dough, hesitates for a moment, and then looks at the floor.]

Your hands look nice, powdered in flour like that...

[...What?]

Does that count?

3) The Feline Collection (closed to housemates and people who have reason to be at their house)

[At Mira's pressing, Irhya has gone out and brought home a cat of her own like it's no big deal. Not a disappearing one, mind, nor one with wings like Breezy, just a regular cat with no special powers to speak of. If anything, that might be the dangerous part, she thinks; between all the creatures here with some unique powers of their own, perhaps it's for the better she took this one in.

But the cat is unique, though, in that she's a female ginger, she thinks while laying with her back flat on the couch. A good way to contrast with Breezy, right? The trouble is... now she needs a name, and that could take a while. If someone comes through the door, though, she's quick to grab their attention from the living room:]

Oi, whichever of you just walked in! Come help me name the cat.

4) Doppelkatze (spoilers for the FFXIV dark knight quest chain, particularly lv50+)

If you had the opportunity to say something to someone you normally cannot, right this second, what would it be?

[What an odd question for anyone to ask, much less someone with that look on their face. It's... oddly speculative. If you know her and have run into her around town today, you'll know it's not unusual for her to play coy like this just for kicks, but... something doesn't seem quite right. It's like she's seeing you through a different lens than usual, especially if she's met you before.]

No need to explain yourself. Just answer with what your heart tells you.

[The encouragement is bizarrely gentle, like there's no judgment involved if you want to scream or cry or spit venom as an answer. It's important; she's evaluating something...]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ They hadn't spoken for so long. But Fordola did not bring that up - no, instead, she gave a little tsk, trying to hide her slight discomfort. ]

I'd say red and black, but I've been slippin' into likin' purple and black more.

Heh. I could see that. A muted, deep purple and some blacks, nothing gaudy...

[All things considered, she's probably never had someone to fuss over her like this. If it gets really uncomfortable, Irhya supposes she'll change her tune, but for now, she'll do what she can to appeal to her preferences.

So nothing girly. Which is a pity, because Fordola has a lovely body, but alas.]

If you're willing to play along for a little while, we can catch up while I sift through what we have here.

[ She has a lovely body, but the wings tended to get in the way, alas.

But she really hasn't. She's not used to it, but she'll endure. ]

...I'd like that. Uh, what do I need t'do to play along?

Just lend me yourself for a little while while I dress you in things! No effort required, and no overly-feminine frippery, I promise.

[Said cheerfully as can be. It might be a bit more personal attention than Fordola's used to, but perhaps she can capture her interest with the right choices.

Irhya turns to thumb through a rack, deliberating casually over what to start with. Dark colors... maybe some earthy tones, too... and things that would look good over her fit build. In particular, she's thinking shorts, perhaps a little on the baggy side. Trouble is, the ones they have are a bit longer than she's envisioning... but perhaps she can tack up the hems really quickly?]

How have you and Thancred been doing, anyway? I haven't seen either of you in a while.

[ Fordola pressed her wings against her body a little, but gave a little nod. ] Thanks.

Me an'Thancred? Well... to be honest, we've been carvin' out our new life here. Both of us are a little scared of forgettin' everything when we go home.

Which-- well, I had memories of home. New ones. And I was not a griffin in 'em. Hah, that'd be pretty freaky, huh? One moment that th'guards look away, and suddenly I'm th'symbol of both their freedom but also th'symbol of what began this final push.

But we've been... livin'. Honestly, I've been a lil worried reachin' out to others. Because I've changed, Irhya.

Changed how?

[If Fordola's memories line up with hers, she might be talking about the incident with the sabotaged conference, and the primal subjugation work she was put to afterward. Though she isn't sure she'd want to see the Ala Mhigans' opinions on her being a griffin; it'd be a bitter irony for most of them, that's for sure.

Irhya starts piling a set atop the table; she starts with a pair of high-waisted loose shorts in a deep khaki color, and then a navy shirt with the sleeves apparently ripped right off. It's a rugged look, for sure, but it's too plain as is.]

If it's for the better, I think you've no reason to be concerned, especially when you have a fresh start here. Or is it something else you're worried about?

...I'm scared of goin' back. We don't have control over it, though - it's all magic bullshit.

[ Fordola can't help but look over at the clothes, and gives a little nod of approval so far. ]

But I've become a lot less scary. I mean, I've had nothing t'really fight for... so I've been discovering myself, without the influence from th'Empire. I--

--I think Garlemald might be bad for Eorzea. Like, in general.

[ That. That is something she's only admitted to Thancred before. That her loyalty has finally wavered, after everything. ] But lots of us, well - they remember the Butcher.

[What can she say to that, now that Fordola has started to come to the conclusion on her own? Knowing she probably has no idea about its origins, its purpose? Irhya's mouth hangs open for a few moments as she processes this.]

Fordola...

[Should she tell her? Perhaps now is the right time, now that she's not wont to mire herself in denial over it...]

I'm happy for you, that you've been exploring yourself freely in a setting like this where your reputation is a blank slate. And I understand your fear of going back; you would hardly be the only one, either. As for Garlemald...

[She swallows, lets out a breath. She's tense all of a sudden.]

Keep this quiet, all right? There are some people here who already know, but I'd like not to make a big issue of it. Garlemald has always existed with the intention of creating chaos, not merely as a differing philosophy to ours. Because Solus zos Galvus desired it, yes, but not necessarily because he was a maniac with a world destruction complex or anything. The reason goes much deeper, but... its founding and the conditioning of its citizens to believe in conquest was the easiest way to create strife among us. And that was the goal, a means to an end. All of ours, more than likely.

It must sound hard to believe without launching into a longer explanation, but the longer way would be even harder to believe. Some truths are better kept silent until the time is right, but that you've started to come to that conclusion on your own... I think it is safe to tell you.

[ She listens, and closes her eyes. Remembers what she saw, in the memories of the Warrior of Light - and the little she heard afterwards.

Still, after some stunned silence, Fordola tried to remain calm. Still. So she could play her part. ]

Solus... he's still here, but goes by the name Emet-Selch. I don't want him to find I've become disloyal. Even if I was raised in a group that only wants chaos. I'm scared of 'im finding out. And of 'im learning how much I've learned. I don't just remember what happened in Gyr Abania. [ She rubbed her neck a bit, quietly. ] Th'Warrior of Light - th'one from my home - told me a little about... adventures in another world.

[ But she didn't know everything. Nor would she press for more. Unlike before, she believed it happened... due to everything here. (If she could have influenced that vision from the mirror, she would have asked more.) ]

Is it related t'those Ascian things which kept causing chaos? I mean... maybe it's Thancred rubbin' off on me, but they seem related to everything.

Whatever ya say, though, I'll keep it secret. I'm good at that.

[Ah, so they have met. Having been brought up in an environment where rebellion was met with soul-crushing violence is justification enough for why she'd be scared of him.

Gods, she wants to reach out and hug her. This can't be easy to process.]

Yes... it is. And they do indeed have their hands involved in more than even the Scions first thought. You might be able to put the pieces together by now, but... Solus, Emet-Selch, he is an Ascian. Not merely an anachronism taken from a point in our past, in his youth.

But I hesitate to think he would punish you for disloyalty even if he did find out, if only because it seems his emotional connection to Garlemald is minimal. It was all business for him, so to speak. Even if, for everyone else involved, it was very real.

[Still, he would probably be displeased she's telling Fordola all this, even if in as neutral a light as she can manage in her position. She puts down what's in her hands and turns to her fully now, looking oddly sheepish.]

I'm already on thin ice with him, so... try not to tip him off, if you can help it.

[ She listened, and she gave a soft smile. Oddly soft for Fordola - it was the sort she'd use in private, around Thancred or her Skulls.

Fordola had begun to use it a lot more often. But it faded, as anger entered her voice again. ]

...it was all barely anything for him, then. My home. The betterment of everybody - though blood and sweat. The sacrifices made.

[ ...wait, that wasn't anger. That was sorrow, as Fordola frowned softly. ]

Don't worry. I'm good at holdin' my tongue.

...Unfortunately.

[It was never about betterment, even if people wholeheartedly believed in the philosophy itself. It was about twisting it to cause as much chaos and warfare as possible. And that's probably pretty upsetting to hear for anyone from an annexed territory, particularly those who chose to or were forced to enlist in the Garlean military to try and work their way up. It's all she can do to not turn around and hug her -- would that be too intimate a gesture? Perhaps, but...

After a moment's pause, she does turn around, but ends up placing hands on her shoulders instead in what's supposed to be a show of solidarity. She can't fully understand based on her life experiences, probably never will, but objectively speaking, it's a pretty miserable truth to have to confront for anyone with such deep ties to the nation.]

Will you be all right, though? I know it's probably a lot to swallow at once.

[Being approached by Irhya was not, perhaps, unusual. Nor was her acting in a somewhat dubious fashion, but that tended more towards the teasing or playful. This had something of a different note to it.

Of course, things were different between them than they'd once been. Worse in some ways, better in others- and as complicated as they would always be. Even so... Emet-Selch thought there was more opportunity of something closer to genuine understanding between them than there had once been. No, difficult as it was, he didn't find their current status to be strictly worse at all.

But this bit of seriousness didn't seem quite like a reflection of that either, and in any case, it was a strange question to spring on anyone out of nowhere. So he regards the mi'qote with a skeptical expression.]

That's a rather personal question, isn't it?

Aye, it is. I've no mind to force you to answer.

[She shrugs nonchalantly. Once more, her time is limited, but on these rare opportunities when she has free reign of her own actions, she may as well make the most of them. For Irhya's sake, even if it doesn't seem that way at first.]

But someone like you ought to have something in mind from the mere mention. And I'd wager you could use the catharsis more than any other.

[She seems relaxed, unconcerned with the normal set of things Irhya worries about on a regular basis, particularly with regards to Hades. If he's stable, if he's eating, if he's willing to humor her for a bit...

None of those are really any of her business, though, are they? And he certainly didn't shoo her away at first sight. Well enough that he thinks they are one and the same -- and what part of that is wrong, really?]

[The comment that he could use it more than any other- it gets a deeper frown from him, clearly displeased at the suggestion. But he doesn't refute it. How can he?

So he crosses his arms as he watches her, wondering at her odd demeanor. But strange question aside, she seemed calmer than usual, or at ease in a way he wasn't used to. Not that Irhya seemed generally uncomfortable around him or anything like that, but there was a subtle difference now that he had a hard time quantifying.]

Perhaps I do. Or perhaps I've given up on asking questions to those who can no longer reply.

[A faint shrug, and a single added word:]

Why?

[There's nothing really to indicate it, and he'll never clarify, but it's Emet-Selch's actual response, the question he'd ask.]

Forgive me if I have my doubts that you'd let go of anything left unfinished.

[She only tilts her head, her expression saying all the point-blank things her words aren't. He doesn't let go of anything. He literally can't. This has been addressed many a time before, and it's not exactly news.

Another robed figure rounds the corner, barely a speck of motion out of the corner of the eye...]

Let's just say I'm taking stock of something. I have much to say, too, you'll find.

[Irhya, the real one, chooses exactly this moment to stride up and put a menacing (but harmless) hand on her double's shoulder.]

The next time you steal my cloak to go play hide and seek, I'm... I'll... [Pause. How do you punish yourself?] Well, just don't do it!!

[Fray's eyes flick from her duplicate back to Emet. Like so, she doesn't say.]

[While his own look doesn't darken any further, it does hold steady at its current level of disgruntled. Whatever had gotten into Irhya, the Ascian is not entirely certain he approves (at least, in regards to himself; were she this blunt with anyone else, he'd likely find it an improvement, or at least amusing).

Because they both know that she's entirely right.

But the sight of another Irhya appearing certainly clarifies things, and after a moment of surprise, his look parts slightly into one of greater contemplation. It serves also as an opportunity to avoid the (more) troublesome Irhya's comments, as he turns towards her original.]

Getting into potion testing, are you? Though I feel your duplicate requires further training should you decide to make use of her.

[That comment makes Irhya frown.]

...She's not a dog.

[It feels too personal when he refers to her like that. But he isn't aware on just what level Fray is, in fact, her, and she struggles with the decision to tell him.

Though perhaps the way one wraps arms defensively around the other is just as telling.]

Most would tell you to let bygones be bygones, you know. [The first Irhya speaking now. To herself, evidently.] But... this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[The original sighs.]

Well, meet Fray. That's not her real name, but it will serve for now. She was just trying to protect me. Probably.

More of a cat than a dog, surely.

[Given with an idle tone, though the glance he spares the duplicate is sharp.]

And so you've named your pet? Are you sure that's wise, you might get too attached to something so temporary.

[But there was something strange going on with these two- stranger than would be expected, perhaps, considering how Irhya seemed to regard her copy.]

...I believe you're misunderstanding something crucial here.

[Yes, there is a definite gap in understanding that needs to be rectified. Fray shoots a flat look in response to Emet's own, displeased at being referred to as a pet. The other Irhya doesn't look particularly amused, either.]

Lovely way to find out you think of us as an animal, but I suppose that's not much further below "sub-human", either. A bit salt-happy with that wound, though, aren't you?

[Oh, no. They're not going down this rabbit hole again, even if she'd love to interrogate him about his wording herself. Fray will keep going all night if she lets her, though, so she interrupts.]

Look. This isn't a whimsical creation; the potion just physically manifested someone that was already there. Doubt it if you want, but Mira can attest to this as well. She is me. And I partook of it for a reason, besides.

[It's an explanation that gets a raised eyebrow, but he doesn't protest her assessment. Presumably Irhya knew best how many Irhyas she was keeping in her mind, so the existence of another self wasn't that difficult to accept.]

Not content with being sundered alone, you split your mind further, hm?

[But he huffs, gaze continuing to be watchful.]

Knowing you contained such a thing... why would you ever ingest a potion that could risk manifesting them outside your control?

...Not on purpose...

[It's all she can really fire back with, but it lacks the necessary punch to be a true rebuttal. She crosses her arms and tears her gaze away.]

She's not dangerous, if that's what you're implying.

--Rather, you're the dangerous one, I should think. If she would just listen to my good sense for once and stop putting all her eggs in one basket...

[That one is directed squarely at Emet, her eyes narrowing, but the look quickly turns to Irhya, at which point it withers away. The original one is still not making eye contact with either of them.]

...But you'll pretend not to hear it, won't you? You're two of a kind on that front.

[A pause. Irhya still says nothing; Fray looks back at Emet.]

Far more curious things have happened than a single person being split in twain, I'm sure. Like your memory of the firebird. I was there to see that, too.

Danger comes in many forms.

[And a duplicate of oneself speaking truths no one wants to hear surely qualified. And the Ascian was torn between ignoring this Fray entirely and focusing his gaze and attention solely on Irhya- and on staring at the duplicate only, as though wary of her. Or at the very least, not liking her particularly far.

So in the end his attention is split, and though it settles for the moment on Irhya, his reply remains directed at them both.]

Myself among them, naturally. I was starting to think you'd forgotten. [Even though he doubts she's referring to mortal danger- of which he was far less of a source these days.] But what eggs would those be?

[But at the reminder of what she'd seen of his past, Emet-Selch looks ever askance at her- at them both, really, though it's a look accompanied by a faint shrug.]

Though that wasn't a particularly notable memory. Only the sort of thing I was occasionally tasked to deal with, in my position.

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