Aguril Catch-All Prompts (open and closed)

[silentsavant]

Who: Soren and the Aefengang (that's you guys....)
When: Anytime in Aguril
Where: your heart's desire.... or wherever the prompt designates
What: Open and closed prompts for events and quests and whatever strikes our mutual fancies. Prompts are in the comments.
Warnings: Minor blood. Mimes. Will add warnings as/if they come.

If you would like to plot a custom starter for your character, feel free to hit me up at wingything or my CR plotting meme comment! I absolutely love tailoring threads for just one character. Feel free to create your own starter in the comments below if there is something different you have in mind (wildcard option??).

➤ Red-String Strung Along. Soren and some poor shmuck (your character) discover that they are ~destined to be~ via the red string spell that went haywire. Original prompt can be found here.

➤ Match Made. Two prompt flavors: help Soren try to find mates for difficult customers, or get paired up with him for a complimentary date instead and see if you can get him to say yes. Quest page can be referenced here under the part-timer quest titled Match Made.

➤ Forget-Me-Nots. Two prompt flavors: Soren experiences pleasant memories while picking flowers, and then there's the option where one of those flower-loving foxes bites him, causing him to accidentally poke himself on the toxic thorns. Quest page can be referenced here.

Comments

[unsundered]

[A true pity... how well matched they would be, were fate less inclined to be cruel.

But how cruel it is. The thread remains, which allows a flicker of surprise to cross the Ascian's expression, followed by a quiet hum. There was something to this man's reaction to him after all, he considered- his first response that implied some manner of (negative) recognition. A wariness that wasn't just because he was now attached to a stranger.]

My... it seems destiny has more in store for us than we thought.

[The Ascian continues playing with a bit of slackened red string between his fingers as he regards him. One of them was lying- or at the least, not being wholly forthright. And for once Emet-Selch knew that it wasn't himself to blame, twisting the truth so that some technically correct statement could come across in any way he chose. No, this was a case when he knew that he was the one being entirely honest. He didn't know, nor cared for this man whatsoever.

That the thread remained turns his lazy detachment into a hint of curiosity, attention beginning to take in Soren in more detail, as though attempting to place him somewhere (And in a distant way, something slowly begins to work in the back of the Ascian's mind, though it's a possibility that hasn't reached his conscious thoughts yet. A dragon, with black scales. Unfriendly, unkind.).]

Have we met...? You'll have to forgive me for not making more of a note of it. You humans tend to blend together, after all.

[Not that he has any proof that this man is human, but he has no problem with making assumptions.]

[silentsavant]

[To be called human again after everything that has twisted his form is actually quite refreshing, however imperiously he was slotted with them. Soren maintains his cold and hardened facade against the curiosity he unintentionally provoked in the immortal. He shakes his head, rubbing at the back of his sable-scaled knuckles as though the skein's knot simply needed sloughing off.]

No. I've merely seen you around. You're quite distinctive. Hard to miss.

[Despite knowing how awry the red-string spell had gone due to the full Sisters' influence, the concept of destiny brushes a chill down his spine, like it might hold any potential right now. Like he can't simply dismiss it, even though he wants to. After all, he has reason to believe there's more to it than a scornful wave of the hand.]

[unsundered]

[Unfriendly and cold, and unwilling to indulge in his pleasant (that is, only moderately condescending) banter. What a terrible dragon.]

'Tis only natural that your eye would be drawn in my direction. And while I can't fault your taste... are you so shy as to require a means like this to gather the courage to approach? I don't bite... the unfamiliar, anyway.

[What a reassuring smile, mocking to the last, though his watchfulness remains. When he deigns to continue it's on a slightly more serious tact.]

But yet you're far less indifferent than you should be to someone you've only seen around. Who am I to you? And who are you for that matter?

[While he was used to people not liking him (any time he brought out his actual personality, that tended to happen), the Ascian generally had a pretty good idea both as to who and why. And yet he'd somehow provoked this dragon's ire and caution without even trying.

Emet-Selch knew he hadn't done anything in this world to warrant more than a bit of irritation, and only at select targets, some of whom weren't even present any longer (like the Exarch). He had no designs on this world, no reason to encourage its ruin. No reason to have obtained any particular grudge from someone who hadn't already possessed one (also like the Exarch).

Had someone warned this man about him? If so, who? And for that matter, why?]

[silentsavant]

[There's no space to chastise himself for his mistakes; that won't do anything for him. He said what he said and he cannot replace those words with something less suspicious, more reasonable, but true, such as 'I don't trust you'. No, he's going to have to keep moving with the flow of their conversation, for if he extricates himself now, that will only prod at Emet-Selch's interests and suspicions further. How can he play this? He needs to be fleet of thought.

Perhaps offering up a morsel of the whole truth could disentangle him? Not merely the symbolic string that binds them together, but the uncomfortable encounter itself. An answer like this is likely to satisfy his perked up curiosity. He sighs to deflate some of the building tension inside, while on the surface to express reluctance in having to engage for any longer.]

If you must know, I've seen you in the memory of another Mirrorbound. Most of it consisted of vain badgering on your part, though there was a palpable inhospitable tension in the air between you and the holder.

[unsundered]

Poking about memories, were you... I hope you were invited.

[Something has almost, but not quite clicked into place. But Emet-Selch is distracted in another direction instead by thinking about whose memories he must've seen to give this man such a poor (and accurate) impression of him. He'd had a few unpleasant conversations with the Warriors of Light that he got on with less easily, but he didn't think much of his behavior to them would fall under the umbrella of 'vain badgering' (how rude).

Nor did it didn't sound as though the dragon had entered his own mirror (which would've opened up a world of possibilities that Emet-Selch would've had little chance of narrowing down), so his option had to be both someone here, and someone he had a particular negative dynamic with.

...There was really only one person who fit that description, even if he was no longer present. There was only stating it, and seeing the reaction.]

--Ah. Familiar with the Crystal Exarch, were you? [A heavy sigh, as though regretful.] Yes, I can imagine that would leave you with an impression most unfavorable. We did tend to bring out the worst in one another. Nor am I surprised he would begin to collect pawns here as well... spiteful as he ever was, towards me.

[Or maybe Soren was a grumpy sort who would've disliked him regardless.]

[silentsavant]

[Even though Soren expected this could be deduced even with such precious detail, a chill settles in upon the connection's linking, down to the familiar analogy of game pieces. It's finalized. The way Emet-Selch sees him has ossified from a transient stranger to someone who once stood by the Exarch's side. He understands more about the ancient being than would be tolerated by him, but there are gaps in his knowledge yet unfilled due to a lack of a more integrated and personal experience of one who was raised on Hydaelyn. Certain details fade into the darkness of periphery. Knowing who you are dealing with is half of the battle. And right now, the problem Soren contests with is not quite knowing what sort of danger he could be treading into, or even if there is danger to begin with. He can only work with what he does know.

One thing is crystal clear, though: his soul-to-soul pact with G'raha is broken now. That no longer holds any bearing. His eyes grow a little sharper, though his cadence remains calm and assertive.]

What makes you think he was making a pawn of me? I'm not a piece to be moved nor claimed between the two of you simply because he was an acquaintance of mine. However, in knowing a little of him, I naturally know a little of you. But I have determined that in this world, you are no longer the caliber of a threat that you could be.

[unsundered]

[Soren did earn one, small point, in not insulting him by pretending that his deduction had been anything other than correct. So this man had known the Exarch, in some form. The Ascian couldn't know for sure whether they were Bonded or not, but this was someone close enough to have witnessed something of the Exarch's memories, been willing to traipse through his mirror when opportunity had presented itself.]

So cold, bringing up traits most uncomfortable... but you're right. I'm little threat to you or anyone else in this place, nor do I have any desire to be. Whatever you've been led to believe about my ambitions aside, there's nothing in this world that may further them. You may relax.

[And though flippancy remains, an edge of wariness joins it. What Soren knew about him was now an unknown, which always perturbed. Without knowing how close he'd been to the Exarch, it was hard to guess how much the man had told him. But for Soren to be warned of him, as though the Ascian might think to make use of their connection somehow... that did speak of something more than the most barest of acquaintances. The Exarch wasn't the sort to gossip freely about things like this.]

But for being unclaimed, you certainly make a show for taking a side between us. [Bluntly stated, shrugging against the back of the bench.] You were a pawn, as are all those he takes on as 'allies'. Here, he was as bereft of his powers as I, removed from all source of strength and made vulnerable. Of course he would gather new pieces to shield him, should our grudging stalemate become less so.

[silentsavant]

[Soren will not "relax". He doesn't know how. Not completely, anyway. There will always be a part of him suspicious of the Ascian, but he can take solace in the mutually understood rationale. Given his understanding of his ambitions, he really has no leverage here, disengaged from all that he once knew just the same as Soren and everyone else. His designs here would be completely different, whether it be finding a way back through the Looking-Glass House, combating the Cwyld, or any of the other common goals one finds themselves suddenly strapped with here. Or even nothing at all, if he were apathetic enough.

Still, his Bondmate had been ever cautious in spite of their truce, and so, Soren chose to defer to his judgment. The dragon mainly hoped not to get involved.]

If you're going to call me a pawn, then I haven't been moved, and I won't be if there is no one left to move me. My current feelings are this: I am neutral toward you, if not reasonably wary. You may be of dubious moral fiber, but you cannot possibly interfere with anything that matters to me as we are, nor do I foresee you wanting to.

[The red string that connects them breaks. A swell of triumph and relief fills his breast. He examines his finger and the vanishing bow before shifting his sights back over to the man on the bench and dropping his hand. He doesn't really have to stay here any longer than he has to.]

There. Well, I suppose that is it, then. I shall take my leave now.

[He begins to spread his wings to take flight.]

[unsundered]

[Of opinions of him went... it was acceptable enough. Mistrust and dislike, but not to any point of particular interference or specific grudge. While not knowing what exactly the Exarch had told him of him was a point of annoyance, as it seems to have been enough to get the man's hackles up over him- he also seemed rational enough to not make another world's causes his own. There was naught either of them could do for them, after all.

Just one more unpleasant mortal to the pile, then. The string snapping at least indicated that Soren's words were true, and Emet-Selch settles back with a loose shrug, intending only to wave him off with one hand (now thankfully free of any fated strings), and yet--

Finally, that nagging thought coalesces. Memory-walking. An unfriendly black dragon. The connection to the Exarch was a distraction, but this....]

--Wait. [Emet-Selch is quick to continue as he fully expects Soren to fly off regardless.] Just one thing. Would you be called Soren, by any chance?

[Technically unnecessary, but he'd already asked him to pause without thinking; knowing what he looked like, he could've described this quarry to Mettaton and gotten confirmation that way. But it was fine.]

[silentsavant]

[ His name on Emet-Selch's voice manages to rattle him so much that it halts his ascent, causing him to wobble in place before he regains his proper footing, albeit legs far apart and wings still unfolded. Questions wheel through his head. Why is he asking him? Didn't he think him a stranger before now? If that's not the case, then how did he gather this much? Mutual acquaintances? A grapevine of sorts? A jog of memory? Anything's possible.

Soren eyes him with heavier suspicion, hesitates to confirm before deciding he would be able to discover it for himself if he were curious enough — and he is. ]

...Yes? Why do you remember all of a sudden? I thought I was nothing to you.

[unsundered]

[That wobble was all the answer he needed, before Soren confirmed it further with words. So this was the man who'd caused Mettaton such distress, and with such indifference. And who was a (former) ally of the Exarch's, on top of that. Knowing things about himself that Emet-Selch hadn't told him. My... this dragon was making all the wrong choices. But frustratingly, there was little the Ascian could do about it. His pursuit of memory-altering magics had been coming up annoyingly futile.

But his gaze does chill that bit more in his regard, as though he were sizing Soren up and deciding how best to take him apart.

It was fortunate that the thread had already snapped. While Emet-Selch was certain he could've come up with an answer vague, misleading, and true (it was his specialty), being able to avoid much of it was a boon.

But he closes his eyes after a moment, and now waves him off with a hand. You're dismissed, Soren, how generous, be grateful.]

Oh, you're still nothing, I wouldn't get your hopes up. [Settling back once again, his tone is as languid and smug as ever.] But I've come across your name, I think. Nothing more.

[silentsavant]

[There's nothing absurd about that, nothing to challenge, and so there's nothing remarkable to say. The dragon's piercing red eyes bore into Emet-Selch's appraising gaze like an animal in an enclosure wary of the corners, one who has seen a hunter's knife and knows it could be sheathed.]

Very well. You have officially made my acquaintance, then. Have a good day.

[Back to flying it is, now with even more heebie jeebies this time.]