Open and Closed Prompts

[notbert]

Who: [Post Orientation] Elidibus + ??? (Open)
[House Hunting] Elidibus + ??? (Open)
[Western Residential, Riverbank] Elidibus + Lahabrea (Closed)

When: 12/29 ~ 12/31
Where: Aefenglom, Various Locations
What: Newly arrived, calling himself 'Ardbert'. Faithfully followed by a large, grey feathered bird-lizard.
Warnings: Diplomacies. Half-Truths. Fish.





  _I. Post Orientation - Coven Courtyard - Open_

[Orientation. Approximate time spent from mirror arrival to building departure: ...Adequate to address the most superficial priorities, Elidibus supposes. Explanation, followed by measuring, followed by charitable offerings in the form of housing and basic necessities. And what was charitably called a 'communication device'. He had allotted a small portion of his attention to memorizing the information this 'Coven' offered. The rest he spent formulating his next real course of action.

Without hesitation he'd called himself Ardbert. Precious few people here would know any better and there really wasn't any reason to reveal his true name, now was there? If the Coven were to be believed, anyone that might care about 'Elidibus' would be as blind and deafened as the Ascian currently felt.

No reason to give anyone an advantage by blurting out the full truth, now was there?]

Gwee?

[This... sound was frustratingly familiar. The gray-feathered amaro that had somehow followed him through the blasted mirror squatted beside Elidibus and gazed inquisitively at him. So far it had shown no sign of ever moving more than the span of distance needed to properly follow the hyur body's pace. Not unless it had been given a bit of space and food to remain while the Emissary went through 'Orientation'. An old halter had been magically reshaped by a helpful stable attendant and Elidibus did hold the end of this. But it was hardly needed.]

We'll seek shelter soon enough.

[Abruptly he stops himself, momentarily letting his eyes close. Right, he's barely arrived and he's already speaking to animals. The amaro shakes her head, dislodging a faint wisp of snow settling in the feathers and Elidibus breathes out a trail of vapor, telling of the chill in the air. It's cold. Aether can no longer be flicked around to make him indifferent to such mortal concerns. While he's fortunate this body comes with clothes and gear made of fur and leather, gloves and warm layers, it's not perfect. The massive war axe strapped on his back was definitely not helping anyone keep warm. It's an instinct to make a gate, to teleport, to simply drift out of the body and leave its frailties behind and get a proper look at this world... again. Of course, none of this happens. Not even a fleeting shadow of it.

Blinded, deafened and sealed. This is suffocating.]

Why did I end up here?

[Words probably heard countless times over. And yet the man seems to expect some sort of comprehensive answer to manifest. Maybe, just maybe, he spoke aloud just to see if someone would answer.]



 _II. House Hunting - The Haven - Open_

[The Haven is the place Mirrorbound are sent to find free shelter. Free furnished shelter, even, all thanks to the magnanimity of the city's governance. It's a place to start anyway. Or at least to go through the motions expected of a refugee. Elidibus had no reason not to display complacency, along with just enough flustered response and confusion to keep the Coven from thinking he had any sort of dangerous plans.

Well, he doesn't. Not yet, as the jury's still out on what would be the best course of action. At the end of the day, the Emissary might well decide the best course is to follow the party line while pursuing his own agenda. How far that goes is anyone's guess. But when one is literally a prisoner in one's (borrowed) skin, you make doubly sure you have explored all your options. And Elidibus is nothing if not meticulous in pursuit of the best choice.

Right now, the mission is to look at a few listed addresses. Whether or not he would have settled for an apartment is made moot by the beast trailing dutifully behind him, hardly needing the halter lead held in the hyur male's hand. The grey feathered amaro was meant to be a mount and absolutely not suited for apartment life. Cottages in the district were occupied. One person and a mount might be a bit much for the next size up, but at least the possibility was offered.

The next address could be a few options:

An empty, ordinary home next door.

A place with an open room available and occupants willing to put themselves on a list for the government affairs to reach out to.

It could be the wrong address. He is, after all, new to the city. Just one lone man, clad in fur and leather gear, massive axe strapped to back and a gray feathered bird mount following behind.

....Honestly, probably not as alarming a sight as that sounds, here.]


_III. Western Residential District, Riverbank - Closed - Lahabrea_

[A brief amount of time has passed. Maybe a night, maybe a few days. This time has been spent well. First finding shelter, obtaining some necessities for the mortal body. Stabling the amaro. Useful though the beast may prove to be in getting around, there's still need for a proper saddle (most decidedly a luxury) and in some cases, it would stand out. When you want to explore with discretion and not have everyone you pass by stare at the exotic creature, you leave the giant gray-feathered flying bird at home.

Elidibus is not searching for something concrete. What he wants is knowledge. Right now, knowledge of the city's layout is the primary goal. What paper maps can't tell you, such as oddities or populace movements or acceptance. How the city flows. He's no less blind than the day he arrived. But in his travels, on foot no less, he seeks to accustom himself to this too.

It's best to know his limits in all matters. Not just the ones he wants to know, such as this new world's form of magic.

Travel, rest and watch and study. Travel some more. Anyone that could have bothered to watch the man for hours and was good with patterns would probably notice a very planned out way of travel. There's nothing haphazard about his journey, since the goal is to be most thorough. But on a smaller scale, Elidibus takes care not to seem too specific. Talking to people, laughing with them. Bartering a couple cune scraped together for a simple stall's meal. He's exploring, not spying.

All things have their limits. Perhaps not Elidibus the Ascian. But the mortal body he's been tied to does. Along the banks of the river, there's one long rest while finishing the bread and meat pie (mostly crust to be honest) and cup of tea in crudely fired pottery. It's not the greatest, but it'll give him the energy to get home.

One last idle look along the banks of the river draws him up short and his eyes narrow. He might not be able to see as he should, but it's sharp enough to catch a glimpse of something his subconscious says he must absolutely pay attention to.]


 _IV. Wildcard_

Looking for connections. Throw something my way! Or DM me and we can talk. This man enjoys studying all possibilities he can get his hands on before coming to a conclusion. (OOC: Will match post format!)

Comments

[notbert]

Far be it for Elidibus to drift on to someone's private property. Without due reason or intent, or...

Oh. Well.

Just as he was beginning to realize the 'feathery creature' wrapped around the robed figure was, in fact, the robed figure and considers the possibility of a false alarm, a convenient flock of bird people descend upon the Emissary. He would have stopped to assess these new creatures anyway, mind you. But this should in no way lessen the success of their plan.

Stopped dead in his tracks, check. A cautious assessment drifts from one harpy to the other, studying features and gauging intent. It seems there's no real cause for alarm. Curious creatures, friendly enough and well-intentioned. The Ascian does notice the pensive gaze cast toward the figure at the dock and does pick up on the cues.

He grins to meet the amiable greetings head on. "Hello in kind," he tells the group. "I'm not exactly from around this area, but I appreciate the gesture." Elidibus even seems patient with the youngling's - or so he's guessing by size, teddy bear and behavior - approach. Those boot trims can absolutely be touched, if the harpy dares! And that's real fur there. You definitely can't fake a feel that real.

He does laugh a little. "Ann, was it?" The 'warrior' kneels as if to be more on level with the young harpy, meeting her gaze. "I only vaguely understand what you mean by a Turnskin. A 'Monster' of this world, no? Rest assured, this fur is from a beast of a very distant Star." He would deign to let the child poke at his gear a bit more, if Ann doesn't mind incurring another scolding from her.... parents? Well, presumably.

Does he ken? Yes, and while Elidibus nods, he also takes note of the apprehensive glance in the 'dragon's' direction. Oh yes. Another 'Monster'. Something similar, but not quite the same as what he's familiar with. It's almost enough, really, to dismiss the whole thing as coincidence. He's been told of course, that people brought here with the Mirrors can become Monsters. And he is personally experiencing the world's ability to seal his power and imprison him. But there's a marked difference between 'you just need to learn this world's magic' and 'this world can UTTERLY CHANGE AN UNSUNDERED SOUL into a Monster'.

"Ah, I see I'm in error. My apologies to you and your neighbor, then," Elidibus begins to straighten up, having decided an appropriate, friendly amount of time for Ann to be Ann has passed. Perhaps to move on his way. "Out of curiosity, does he have a name to go by? Perhaps I should apologize if I encounter him outside of his... territory." He doesn't really expect an answer that makes much sense. But he is going to cross the last T and dot that last I.

[fuelingfire]

Although Elidibus' gregarious friendliness is surely just an act, it works perfectly well on the small family of harpies, one of which puffs feathers up a bit, pleased. It's always nice to find friendly travelers! Even if this one seemed to be one of the Mirrorbound. Well that's alright, no reason to turn them away either.

'Monster' and 'beast' don't quite correlate in the much smaller harpy's mind, but she does for a moment look a fair bit alarmed. Beasts! Beasts on other worlds! "Was it scary?" It feels real to her! And once satisfied - or equally as much scolded again gently by one of her parents - she's .. she's going to examine this friendly new person a little closer, though it's VERY OBVIOUS she's keeping her hands to herself now.

"It's quite alright, quite alright! There used to be signs up, you know, but they blew away in the last storm and not a soul's had time to put them back up!" The more boldly colored - presumably the male - harpy pats Elidibus' arm with a cheerful sound that's suspiciously chirplike. "Why, just the other day--"

There's a sigh from the other adult, who prods at him with a wing. "Enough of that now, he's not here for a long chat."

"But he COULD be. He could be! Let's invite him over for a spot of lunch! Say, how do you feel about honey roasted crickets?" A delicious treat, to be sure, even for people who AREN'T birds. The chick AND the other adult both perk up a bit at this suggestion, it's pretty clear it wouldn't just be to put on a show. Maybe they just really enjoy company!

Ah right, names. "We just call him Red, because he's turning red," chirps the child, who waves cheerfully at the distant, darkly clad shape. "I'm Ann!"

There is a suspicious flick of a tail that might be a wave back.

The brown-feathered harpy rubs two fingers along her small beak, looking thoughtful. "I do know what he introduced himself as when he first bought the home some weeks ago, but since then he's been ... in a bit of a difficult place, you see." Her wings make a small gesture that somehow conveys avian helplessness. "I'm not sure you'd get a good reception if you called him by it, if you wanted to be neighborly. When my Samuel here called him by it recently, he said he wasn't worthy anymore and then wouldn't even join us for dinner. Red might be the safest thing."

[notbert]

When Elidibus wants to be, he is certainly good at being friendly. One might say that he's good enough it might as well be real. At least in this case, he has no malice directed at the family. Obliging the child keeps the parents happy. Happy birds sing. It's a simple equation.

"Ah, it was dangerous, but not scary. With a swing of my axe and the aid of my friend, we smote it down!" There are, of course, accompanying gestures. Such a tale can NOT be told without such gestures. Ann might get scolded, but at least toward her parents, Elidibus mimes a gesture suggesting he was not troubled.

And see? The birds sing... talk. And talk and talk, of assurances and signs, whether or not he's available for a meal of... was that crickets? At least he seems a little more curious than dismayed. It's not like the body couldn't accept such a meal, but would it be better to accept or refuse?

"I can't possibly trouble you," Elidibus finally offers, having made his decision. Well, it is more reasonable this way, to politely refuse on the grounds of being virtual strangers. "Though maybe I can do something about the signs..."

Red, is it? Ann earns a smile in return for Lahabrea's nickname and her own given. "Greetings, Ann. You may call me Ardbert." It's not necessarily his name, but there you have it. The wave and return flick of a tail do not go unnoticed.

Elidibus' interest returns to the brown-feathered harpy, looking a little more keenly interested. This is, after all, unsolicited information. Red is CALLED Red, but it is not his name. And the other harpy is Samuel. Which leaves the female's name.... and the robed and masked dragon's real name. How best to unravel this puzzle?

"Red is safest, is it? I'll bear that in mind." Elidibus nods politely. "So... Samuel, I take it?" He looks at the male harpy. Then to the female, "May I have the honor of your name madam?"

[fuelingfire]

Out on the dock, content to ignore vile socializing going on, Lahabrea works on reeling in a fish in the most utterly mundane way ever. Not so long ago he could have simply MADE a fish, or ignored the needs of an unaccommodating body by simply picking up a new one. Whoever the stranger is, the neighbors have intercepted, and it was a small favor he'd owe them. They weren't.. terrible, for mortals, but certain lines in the sand did need to be maintained.

How much of what Elidibus is saying is the truth is utterly irrelevant because Ann is thoroughly delighted by all of it. There is VERY CLEARLY an axe involved, it's that axe and it's absolutely certain there will be imaginative re-enactments later. "And then made into boots!" She has no boots, but she also doesn't seem to need them, with long delicate bird toes. "Beast boots! With fuzzy edges!"

Apparently the stranger doesn't much mind entertaining a child for a few minutes, so this time there's no scolding about any pestering going on. "It's no trouble, no trouble at all!", 'Samuel' declares firmly. "We're all in this together, we're happy to share!" Honey roasted crickets! Not exactly meal fare but a delicious sweet snack nonetheless, with a nice buggy crunch. "But if you'd like to help put the signs back up, I won't say no, not at all. Extra hands lighten the load! Though we'll have to find them all again.."

How To Prevent Problems With The Dragon Neighbor is an important thing to invest in for any neighborhood. Figuring out what to NOT call one to offend it is an absolute priority. The male puffs up again in apparent glee when his name is repeated, feathers sticking out ridiculously around his clothes. But before he can answer, the other does, looking amused. "Ardbert, hm? You'll do well around here with an attitude like that. I'm called Riona, we live a little ways up the road if you'd like a visit. We're always happy to have company."

[notbert]

"And made into beast boots," Elidibus agrees. And from the looks of things, plenty of left over for collars, gloves and other trim. But the boots are what's important now, clearly, as they were officially touched. And if there's to be re-enactments later, there may be a phase. Maybe even a dream of becoming a great axe wielding harpy warrior (with beast boots, however impractical). Clearly Ascians once again are proving terrible influences.

Matters move on. Signs must be found again, potential visitations to a harpy's home might be a priority. It's not as if 'Red' has been forgotten by any means. He's certainly on Elidibus' mind, but... patience. Plenty of groundwork has just been laid to reach the dragon's lair.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to stop by for a little," he concedes. "Then we can find those signs before heading back home." Why put off for tomorrow what can be done today? Looking between Ann, Riona and Samuel, Elidibus offers a slightly lopsided smile. "And perhaps I can ask your aid in approaching your dragon friend, to find out where he would like his warnings placed."

Because clearly, it would be better diplomacy to have someone familiar introduce him, no?

[fuelingfire]

For harpies it'll simply have to be OTHER bits of armament besides boots! Nice ankle wraps perhaps or claw sheaths or something! If Elidibus is inspiring kids to work on becoming more than they should be setting their mind to ... well it'll hardly be the first time.

Or the last.

Sure, going with the harpies means heading in entirely the wrong direction, but surely things will work out just fine! It doesn't seem like that ominous shape is about to go anywhere any time soon. "I know where a few are. The others may have been picked up." Riona looks thoughtful for a moment, but as tthings have clearly been decided, she turns for home - this time on foot. Poor Elidibus doesn't have wings, after all, and he's waved along. "I'm sure we can politely ask, we'll just all have to mind our manners. It won't be much of an intrusion then."

Or so she hopes. "We don't get a lot of visitors out this way that don't already have kin in the area, we certainly don't," Samuel says brightly, bouncing right after his theoretical wife. "You Mirrorbound usually stay on the other side of the river. Not that we mind at all, not at all, a little change doesn't hurt." By the second and third floor landing perches at windows big enough to be doors, figuring out which home is theirs is in fact probably very easy.

Ann pauses, toy clutched to her chest, for a moment looking intensely thoughtful. "Should signs be done first? And then a snack? Coming aaalll the way back out is such a loooong walk."

It isn't. At least not to adult feet, or people used to walking.

[notbert]

Look, sometimes that was good for the health of the world to help, if you'll forgive a metaphor, fledglings to take flight. Nothing wrong with that. Everything wrong with making sure the world stays healthy enough to survive Rejoining, don't worry about it. Sometimes, well. Yes. It was very much to cause a Rejoining.

I'm sure it'll be fiiiiine here.

Yeah that shape isn't going anywhere. HE KNOWS WHERE YOU LIVE. Elidibus is willingly herded down the bank toward the harpies' home. "We can prioritize the ones we find to where they're most needed." The Ascian doesn't have to say anything about how obvious 'around the dragon' would be the best place to start, right?

And so he doesn't. The 'warrior' appears content to study the area around them and take in the sight of the... ahem, birdhouse as they approach. "So you're natives?" By context it's apparent, but it's a polite thing to ask nonetheless. "Forgive me if this is rude, but.... do you experience the changes they told me the Mirrorbound do? Or are you born this way?" It might well be a little 'ignorantly tactless' but it has its purpose. Sure it's been inferred by context that the robed figure is Mirrorbound. But if native monsters DON'T go through those changes, then it's simply another piece of the puzzle which is the dragon.

Little Ann is given a wide grin. There's plenty of chance to duck away, but a gloved hand can't seem (by design) to resist wanting to ruffle the child's head...hair...feathers? He'll be mindful if it's feathers, certainly. "Lunch first, for energy. Then we'll be ready for an adventure." One eye closes in a wink. "Young ladies who try hard might certainly get a ride back home if it proves a bit too far."

Look. He's not saying that offering to give a child who can get a tail-wave from a dragon a ride on a strong shoulder is the same as taking a hostage against atta-- Yes, wait I'm sure it's just a shoulder ride offer.

Really don't worry about it.

[fuelingfire]

Let's face it. It's a birdhouse. It's a house.. with many new options to get into it, for birds. What else could it possibly be?

"It's not rude at all, not at all." And not a taboo subject, it seems! "We're born as our species. I can't imagine how odd it must be to just become something else over time!" But that does seem to be what the mirrorbound do, even if Samuel can't quite fathom it. "There's never any question what we'll grow up as, no question at all. I haven't spotted anything that doesn't look human on you yet, but don't worry, I'm sure you'll get some feathers or fur or scales soon!" This is supposed to be reassuring, as if Elidibus might be yearning to grow fur or fangs or feathers and simply hasn't had the opportunity yet.

Of course, the harpy might be a bit biased. Who WOULDN'T want to fly? Or prowl the night as a wolf, or experience the pride of spinning a first web?

The path to their home is neat cobblestone, plenty of length to kick off any lingering mud or sand from the shore of the river and not track anything inside even for big clunky warrior boots. Ann does NOT duck away, but she does giggle when her hair .. or feathers, it's sort of hard to tell - get ruffled up. She's doing her best to keep pace! But she's used to flying, ever since she'd fledged to begin with. "Piggyback rides! Okay!" She's going to hold him to that and there is NO escaping it!

Riona opens the ground floor door, which looks suspiciously ordinary, and is obviously unlocked. "Please make yourself at home, Ardbert. Would you like a drink while you wait? We've several teas, a bit of milk.." Milk, for birds? Apparently! "A little wine, but you're welcome to it." The interior of the home is definitely sized for smaller, lighter beings, but Elidibus shouldn't have any trouble - it could be most homes in ANY world, save that the chairs are all comfortable stool-like cushions instead of with rigid backs. It's also rather much warmer than outside.

[notbert]

It's nice of them to have all the amenities needed to cater to ground-bound visitors then. The door, the cobblestone path and other niceties which can only be for people such as himself who are forced to do something so plebian as walking. Which he would be doing to keep up this charade anyway, so at least there's some cold comfort in it.


He does however barely manage to hide a scoff at the thought of a fully Unsundered being turned into a Monster. Boy, won't he be surprised? "The... Coven told me I had magic. This world's... magic." The words are spoken a little delicately, as if taking care not to speak them with disdain. The tone may be taken as trepidation. Hey, surely Mirrorbound have reacted in worse ways to having their abilities stripped away! Or an alien word for something they would be used to calling by another name.

A piggyback ride is promised. Well, more accurately a ride has been promised. Elidibus' back is currently very occupied by a massive axe he has no intention of removing right now, except when it's polite. Such as sitting down for lunch. "Tea, that will be wonderful." Wine has no purpose in a lunch with honeyed crickets. An after dinner dessert of candied mealworms might be a better pairing. Milk may also be a precious commodity. Have you ever tried to farm those massive yaks? Really.

Now, for the matter of axe and... probably gloves, he considers, after a careful, mental list of what might construe 'making oneself at home'. As Riona's calling out with the hallmarks of a hostess about to be busy making beverages and possibly lunch, this leaves Ann or Samuel behind to ask. "Now I don't want to be the type of ruffian who brings an axe to the table. Do either of you know where I might set this aside?" 'Either' is just a small, token inclusive for Ann to feel involved in the process.

And with this being said, after the gloves have been removed from his hands (proving he has no claws growing in, either! Just ten Hume digits) and are tucked partway under one of the straps of his gear, the axe is brought around with one - yes Ann, ONE- hand. The butt is lower to the floor, but lightly. No need to dent things. Given direction, the axe will be placed where ever instructed and a cushioned stool-chair will be claimed if there's no other matters to address.

As for the warmth of the home? It may be vexing, but Elidibus will admit, though only to himself right now, that it's welcome. To the body anyway. Winter is cold!

[fuelingfire]

"Ah, a young witch then!" That's apparently just fine too, though slightly less wonderful than being able to fly. "They say a witch can do anything they put their mind to, they can! I wouldn't know myself of course, but ... rumors, and all. Why, we have a delightful oven made by a witch who just popped it right into existence in our kitchen, right in the kitchen!"

The division of labor isn't ordinarily the housewife-does-everything, but since she offered the tea, she's just going to have to go get it. Which she does, with a laugh that's half chirp. She's sure they'll both be able to keep their guest well entertained for a little while, while she works on turning scattered snacks into an actual meal.

As Elidibus shifts the axe and sets it down one handed, Ann goggles a bit, and then immediately reaches for the axe, eyes enormous and round. "I'll put it away!"

"No you won't!" She's grabbed by her father before she can get too far, tiny reaching talons several feet away from the glorious prized axe. "That probably outweighs you, outweighs you by a fair bit, you'll do no such thing as touching it!" Although it's a firm scolding, it's not an unearned one and it doesn't actually seem to have dimmed her enthusiasm even a little bit, though she reluctantly gives up her goal of actually seizing the thing. It really is bigger than she is.

Elidibus on the other hand is directed briefly towards a wall, where what looks like an array of walking canes and umbrellas are neatly lined up in a rack. "You might be able to fit it over there with those, if you'd like. It's not really made for a greataxe, but it should do, should do well enough for now."

There is a sound suspiciously like a beep from the vicinity of where Riona had disappeared to. In another world, in another time, it might sound microwave-like. But Aefenglom surely doesn't have microwaves. So it must be something else.

Ann plops herself on one of the cushions as Samuel works on pulling a small coffee table closer; it's not exactly a dinner table but it'll do in a pinch and work just fine in the doing! "Say, my friend, where are you from? Everyone knows you're all from other worlds, that we do, but we never get to hear anything about what those are like."

"Full of beasts!" Ann's declaration is immediate and firm, at approximately the time that Riona returns with a teapot and several different handled cups looped through her fingers. She makes a small gesture to her husband with one wing, and he disappears promptly into the kitchen without waiting for an actual response to his questions. Busy busy!

But it does at least procure food in short order, as he returns with two bowls with convenient spoons. One - full of those roasted crickets that had been spoken about, looking crunchy, and each one coated in honey. The other bowl... well. Honestly it looks intensely suspiciously like what SOME places would call taco salad.

[notbert]

Safe to say Elidibus expected proof of Ann's magnetic alignment to show in the way she was immediately drawn to the axe within her reach. It's definitely taller than her. At LEAST as heavy. He would have had it out of her reach had Samuel not interfered. He is confident it would not go that far. And reasonably confident that one scolding would be enough to keep Ann from touching it, hurting herself and detracting away from Elidibus' goals.

There's a way to store a great axe like that and... well, the arrangement is going to be a bit slapdash this time 'round. But it will be safe from tipping, tripping and cutting. A small arrangement of walking staves and umbrella's later and there's a very fancy and pointed weapon politely leaning against the wall, ALMOST like it's stored in the rack. He did his best to make use of the braces.

The microwave beep makes his head jerk up and look around. It was oddly out of place, though Elidibus probably couldn't tell you why. Some half remembered trivial fragment about Allagan modules maybe. Or some other Shard. Really didn't matter. The Emissary will not leave his hosts stranded. So Ann can settle on the stool and the warrior will helpfully aid in moving the table.

He's looking up, smiling and settled while Riona reappears with the tea and cups. "It's only fair you're curious about our origins, what with all the questions you must answer from... our kind." His teeth show a little as it takes a tiniest hint of force to lump himself in with mortals. Elidibus laughs heartily when Ann chimes in. "Yes. Full of beasts. But a great many other things too. And less than half of them would make excellent boots," he's teasing, really.

"My world... is just part of a fractured whole," He begins. "And my... companions," was that a bit of a stumble? Did he mean colleagues? Friends? Family? "We labored--" he catches himself, "--labor tirelessly to save the world." The fractured piece? The whole? Maybe both? There is a moment's thought. "Creatures not unlike the Shades. Shells of their former selves, mindlessly eke out their existence in the wake of a massive calamity."

Ardbert could easily be speaking of Novrandt and the First, of Sin Eaters
Elidibus could be speak of the once-whole Zodiark and the misshapen Sundered that crawl on his shattered pieces.

And it sounds just the same, simplified in a manner someone not native to those worlds could understand.

[fuelingfire]

Riona settles on her own selected cushion, setting out the mugs for the tea and distributing appropriately. But she pauses as Elidibus works on describing his world in a way that strikes her as strangely disjointed. She studies him for a long moment, silent, obviously weighing if it's appropriate to pry in the first half hour of meeting someone.

Probably not.

"... If it's difficult to talk about, you don't have to. We don't want to bring up painful things just to soothe some curiosity. It sounds like you've been through quite a bit." The glance she shoots at her husband may be there to forestall any further prying questions; Ann's are less likely to be laser-focused unpleasant given her sudden recent fixation on beasts and axes and boots.

Meanwhile: plates.

Ann is happy to help herself to crickets AND interesting salad that is surely not taco, and thoroughly mix them together. "Like adventures. Maybe those aren't sad!" Adventures, unfortunately, are very often sad.

Samuel works on his own lunch as well, but more salad than cricket, they're a treat, not the main course. "You know, Ardbert," he says thoughtfully, fishing out a crunchy bit of maybe-tortilla and studying it for a moment. "Our neighbor, he doesn't socialize much and we respect his privacy, but we've had him over a time or two. He'd described his world as broken too, he did. Now I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I wonder if maybe it's the same sort of place. I'm not sure how you'd go about asking without risking a fight, I sure don't, but it makes a man wonder, it does."

[notbert]

It really is.... surprisingly difficult. Even Elidibus blinks when he realizes this. For a moment, his expression might even be honestly grateful when it comes to changing the subject. Adventures... yes, they can be sad. And there comes a moment where he falters again, trying to think of something, anything he might prevail upon.

Of course he utterly rejects borrowing from THAT Warrior of Light's exploits.

But there is food. And this is not an opportunity to pass by. Elidibus is cognizant of dietary needs for mortal flesh and how to provide. Basically. But new worlds taking away his gifts means he can no longer simply wave a hand and conjure food. It also means new foods. What can and cannot be eaten by his body needs to be tested and... well, two categories are presenting themselves along with tea. With the harpies obviously cognizant of non-harpy guests, he's willing to test both 'obviously hume food' and 'not generally consumed except as last resort or delicacy'. Who knows, maybe it is normal here, even for non-avians.

Crickets? They are very tiny, for one. Crunchy. Sweet from the glaze. Tiny bits seem to get stuck in teeth. There might have been a small liquid 'pop' from the main body. Elidibus isn't terribly sure how to categorize the rest of 'taste' and has no mental aversions to the insect. Another one is bitten to repeat the experience. Largely the same, other than size and glaze volume. The body doesn't appear to be rejecting it, though he knows he may have to wait a little. He does offer, "These are generally larger, where I'm from." Much, much larger. He might even glance at Ann and hold up his hands, palms facing one another. And then moving further, and further apart before fingers flick to indicate a sizeable portion of the room.

Yeah, that big. This.... is an O.K. tale to remark upon and should help sate the child.

The salad that absolutely isn't taco still has familiar bits. Ones that look and smell like cheese and lettuce and tomato and meat which should not cause any troubles and would probably not interfere with recognizing issues brought on by the crickets. Mid bite, he stills as Samuel brings up the dragon neighbor. His world is broken too. And he wears robes and a mask. Elidibus would not ever admit it until it's plainly set in front of him that one of the Paragons could sucuumb to a transformation, locked away powers or no. But not all of the Convocation was.... intact. And the lost could well appear. And if the mask itself had not been red, well. Many of the numbers were barely recognizable. So many pieces yet to make whole.

It is clear this subject interests their guest very much. Though he remains calm, taking a moment to drink from the cup of tea-- which is certainly pleasant and warm-- and mentally rolls over his mind a list of the Ascians he does remember by name. Not nearly as many as he should. Wait, name. Not number. "I wouldn't want to jump to conclusions either," he assures Samuel. "You mentioned he told you a name. Perhaps, if it's one I recognize... If you would oblige me?"

[fuelingfire]

As far as Ann is concerned, Elidibus just described a room sized cricket. This is in fact to a child an absolutely enormous bug, and she can't quite divorce the idea from dinner, not something potentially incredibly hazardous. "..What do you DO about them that big??" Kill them and make boots-- no, bugs don't make good boots do they.

"It's best I don't," Samuel says apologetically, visibly drooping. "I know how hard it is to not use a name when it's given, I know. I've been there, I have, and you seem like such a nice young fellow. I don't want anything to happen to you just because of a slip up. Just a slip up. It would be terrible." There had been lessons learned, not so long ago, about said slip-ups, and those were lessons best not repeated on someone else. Especially someone so friendly and nice as Elidibus surely was. "And then there'd be the city guards to deal with and ... oh, it's best to not know unless he tells you, it is. He'll be in a better mood once we have the no trespassing signs back up, surely!"

[notbert]

Bugs are big. Well, of course there's regular sized bugs as well. But those aren't nearly as interesting. Or as lucrative for job levelling with side-quests. He winks at Ann and crunches down on another glazed cricket as if that's the answer instead. Of course you can make meals out of them!

Elidibus suppresses a sense of impatience with Samuel. Of course the mortal is going to fuss at him like this. Mustering a sense of calm disappointment, the Emissary nods. "I'd be willing to take the risk for the sake of knowing, but... I won't push you. Perhaps there is something still to be recognized about his appearance."

It's only right that such a nice young man would be worried about whether this is a person he knows. Perhaps one of the companions he spoke so poignantly of. And.... if that companion were in despair, would it not be fitting that he'd want to help, in some way?

The crickets do not seem to be poison to the host body. So the portion of salad and insects which he doled out onto his plate are finished. He had not taken much and the meat pie he had earlier had been filling enough, so he won't starve. But Elidibus shows no sign of taking more than he needed to conduct his investigation. One might think of it as being polite to his new acquaintances, not to take larger portions. Refills on the tea will be acceptable. The body seems to enjoy the warmth pouring down his gullet after all that time outdoors.

Ah yes, about those signs. It seems like getting near enough to replace them is going to be the only 'diplomatic' way to get closer. "I suppose we'll need some tools to make sure the signs stay put." Setting down the empty tea cup, Elidibus will of course wait for his hosts to finish their meal, but it's clear he's finished on his end.

[fuelingfire]

The harpies are not overly quick about it either, meals are apparently to be savored! "I've a hammer downstairs," Riona volunteers, as matters of fixing signs arises. "There's likely some nails left as well, and I believe we have ... one of the signs."

Things get picked up but not put back! It's just so easy to get distracted.

In fact, it does look like Ann and Samuel might be at this a while longer, so she rises to her feet, setting her cup aside. It's obvious Ardbert's finished, and making him wait forever surely wasn't a good idea. He likely had places to be, and has already volunteered his time! "If you'd like, I'll go and fetch them while these two slow-pokes finish up, and we can get you on your way again." Her smile is brief but no less genuine for it. "Not that we mind company of course, you may linger as long as you wish."

And then she all but disappears down a set of stairs that surely lead to the basement.

[notbert]

Ah yes, a hammer. Nails and even one of the signs. And one of the harpies willing to not press the matter of eating more. This.... can work in Elidibus' favor. Especially since it seems he won't be allowed to get as close as he'd like, if he continues to use the creatures as shields to prevent the dragon's wrath.

Once Riona's footsteps recede down the stairs, Elidibus looks at his plate, than at the meals of the remaining harpies. "I think I'll head out and look for some of the other signs. The more we get up, the safer the area will be." Clearly he does have limited time to be helpful, at least today. One might expect that he'll only traverse the region between the harpies' home and the place where they stopped him.

Surely he'll only do that, right?

Ann might have wanted to follow him. There was, after all, the promised piggyback ride. But Elidibus knows there is a strong chance Samuel will keep her back, to finish the meal. As a proper parent unit should. This too, would work in his favor; though he probably hasn't escaped his fate fully. One day, Ann will no doubt come for her due.

Getting up, the Ascian heads over to the door, pausing only long enough to fiddle at the rack by the exit. Yes, he's going to go search for signs.

With an axe.

Well, you wouldn't expect him to leave his weapon behind where an overly fascinated child might hurt themselves, right? Surely it has nothing to do with meeting the dragon, in any case.

[fuelingfire]

"Wait, I'll come too!" Of course Ann is reluctant to leave her new hero on his own, something exciting might happen! But as Elidibus expects, before she can get too far, she's settled back down by a faintly disapproving sire.

"You just finish up your lunch, Ann. We'll make wings once we're finished and catch up in plenty of time, we will." The nice part about being able to fly: they're not stuck on the ground and can indeed catch up VERY QUICKLY. And although he has the impression that maybe Elidibus isn't going to just go looking for signs, by the steady, measuring look the Ascian is given, he also ... doesn't actually try at all to prevent him from getting his axe or preparing to leave. "Just mind the path, and stay off the docks until we get there, until we're there. He's not a bad sort but there's safety in numbers, there is."

Downstairs is a small clatter, a bong of what sounds like a large pot hitting the floor, and a twittering tirade of fury against Someone who Put A Pot There. There's enough noise to suggest she's just fine.

The early afternoon sun, and promise of mysteries, await.

Lahabrea hasn't actually gone anywhere either, though he's managed to collect himself two more fish, a stick (which is now on the shoreline), and an attentive seagull.

[notbert]

Ah, Samuel is astute, Elidibus will give him that. But since the harpy seems to respect his decision, however discreetly, so too will the Ascian offer respect by deigning to respond to the implied cautions.

"I'll keep your words in mind, Samuel. And I intend no action that would endanger you or yours." Slinging the axe across his back again, the Ascian is only given brief pause at the sound of the large pot clanging and Riona's chirping complaints. He smiles a bit and leaves.

The moment seen as a further useful distraction? Relief that Riona's okay? Choose whatever makes more sense. He will not mind. The door closes behind the figure of the warrior.

Should he be surprised the dragon is still there? Honestly, Elidibus couldn't say. After stepping on the path and beginning his journey along the bank again, he looks around in a way some might interpret as searching for signs of... signs. The Ascian is really looking for signs of witnesses or more like anyone who might try to interrupt him again. He doesn't rush, but his stride is of one who has a determined course to see through.

He doesn't immediately do something so brazen as go all the way to the docks. But Elidibus will be coming closer than he was before. This time without the harpies to stop him in his tracks, the 'warrior' is clearly going to cross a line at some point well before the planks are reached.

One of those lines may well be the regard he turns upon Lahabrea. Pausing, still on the path, but arms crossed and standing. Watching. And possibly waiting to see if his presence alone warrants the dragon's action. Add Ascian-hosting Ardbert shell to Lahabrea's list of fish, stick and seagull.

If merely stepping on perceived property doesn't, however... then yes, Elidibus will move forward, to step on the dock. With, no doubt, a pointed creak of wood under boot and weight.

[fuelingfire]

They WILL be along, when things are sorted out at home. Surely Elidibus understands the danger of trespassing in this city, where witches and monsters abound! Anyone could take offense, and things could get dangerous!

Less dangerous than what it might be in another handful of months, in this case. Though certainly a dragon, Lahabrea's not gained the full size, strength or power that could one day make him an active threat to near anyone but another dragon or someone armed with a squirt bottle. He didn't even have his wings or horns in yet. But he is still inevitably alert for those that venture onto his property - he was going to have to build a REALLY BIG WALL to prevent further trouble in the future. Movement betrays Elidibus more than sound, though eventually there's the crunch of boot on pebble and he turns his head slightly to once more gauge who's trespassing, and whether or not it might be an accident.

Accidents could, occasionally be forgiven.

But it's the same marauder as before, the one the harpies had warned away. He's certain the stranger had been warned, and he has no idea at all who he's contending with - the Warriors of Darkness were someone else's project. As was the fall of the First. Heard about, yes. Seen? No. And Elidibus, of all people, actually taking a vessel? Of all the possibilities, it's not one he's even remotely considering.

What Lahabrea is considering is that someone who's been warned off has returned, and that is an insult that would not be tolerated. He sets his pole down and uncoils in a slow ripple of red and brass on black from his comfortable, warm spiral in his own tail like a snake unwrapping itself, mood rapidly darkening. There's no hesitation in turning to confront this unwanted guest, the bright pale gold feathers along the edges of his tail flaring to their widest in a slow, irritated wave hindered only slightly by the robes he wore. Not only does he have an unwanted guest, the idiot dared turn up armed. This required chastisement.

[notbert]

Yes, the same one as before, with a weapon and an utterly confident demeanor, considering he's toying with the temperament of an Ascian turned dragon. But he can't possibly know about the former bit, can he?

There is no denying that he must realize by now what a dragon is. Yet still, Elidibus approaches. Stops, within speaking distance perhaps, but certainly as the robed figure begins to slowly uncoil himself and stand up. And up.... and up. The Ascian has to cant his host's head to one side and crane his neck a bit.

This.... strikes an oddly familiar cord. It's a shame he can't remember why. No matter. Because any bemused ponderance on the nature of a familiar 'look upward' gesture is immediately replaced with a wave of pure anger. Something that burns clearly on the mortal countenance. Elidibus doesn't even attempt to hide it. This is...

"So." The single word is severely punctuated. Elidibus drops his arms loosely to his sides. He's not reaching for his axe, but a hand does close into a fist. His voice is still Ardbert's, but oh the words speak more of something no mortal should be aware of. "A named Ascian decides they are worthy of the Speaker's seat, because this world deigns give them a modicum of power and a convenient shroud to hide behind. I'm disappointed in you." Machinations against mortals are one thing.

But a far different affront there is, to dare step into the shoes of one of the fully Unsundered. "Has this world corrupted your mind so much that you no longer know your true place?" Which seat of the Convocation would dare take that which is not their own?

Yes, on occasion, Elidibus can be wrong. Especially in his current state of hidden instability and uncertainty, as he struggles with side effects of his own abduction.

[fuelingfire]

Elidibus stops in his chosen spot, but Lahabrea does not. There were few indeed that should know the things that Elidibus speaks of, and that might have been a flag to anyone else to proceed with caution because things might not be what they seem.

Lahabrea does not often proceed with caution, especially not when otherwise irritated already. This isn't a voice he recognizes, and they all can manipulate a host's tone effortlessly ... so this is what? Some mortal playing at secrets he had no right knowing? There were more than one Warrior of Light, to understand others' complaints and statements, but he'd known only the one, that irritating little miqo'te vampire he intended to see put down sooner or later ... this didn't mean there weren't others.

Or this was one of his own brethren. Either way, there were only two he felt had any right to even begin to take that tone with him and neither of them wore a guise that looked like this one of late. So someone else dared. Not only does it rankle his own delicate pride and easily sparked rage, it grinds up against the dragon as well, igniting indignation into a blaze of singleminded mania. Maybe not only because of the words themselves, from a stranger's voice.

Maybe also because it echoed his own doubts and shame. There's nothing worse than having one's own humiliations broadcasted.

There is no verbal response immediately, just a twist of lips that bare sharp teeth and a slight quickening of that measured stride; he doesn't even slow until he's right up on Elidibus - there's time to reach for that greataxe for some measure of defense but Lahabrea's already moving, reaching to intercept and rip the thing right out of the other's hands with a strength that an ordinary hyur couldn't hope to match and at the same moment ... stretch out with the other hand for this irritating gnat's throat.

And close with a grip that's barely above crushing, to drag the impertinent being right off the ground and to his somewhat greater height. It's for the best Lahabrea keeps his claws filed blunt, else that might be the end of it in terrible, miserable tragedy right then and there. His senses aren't dulled by exhaustion or lack of meal or the numbing cold, and for the moment he has the advantage over the newly arrived witch.

His fury is a tangible thing. It's hot on his skin, etched in every line of shrouded malevolent rage. The sun glazes the red scales and minute feathers across his hands in an edge of fiery gold, a distant promise of where that heat would lead in time.

"And who are you," comes the low, rasping growl in response, though he's certain Elidibus isn't going to actually be able to respond, "To dare tell me what my place is?" It's the same voice he's kept for a long, long time now. It's not been pleasant to the ears for some centuries, but he never really cared, and now it's hissed between clenched teeth in little puffs of mist in the cold. "How arrogant. How foolish. Did you think me an easy target? Did you hope to see me stripped helpless and weak by this wretched, miserable little star? Do you think I would be so easily beaten? So easily broken? I am still unsundered and I will have your silence or I will have your life!" His grip tightens briefly in a trembling spasm, the crimson banner of his tail briefly lashing back and forth in a vivid angry arc.

The harpies had tried to warn him.

[notbert]

Elidibus does not often err. Even when he does, it is not generally more than a minor setback.

It is unusual when it is this grievous.

The provocation of a dragon and an Ascian. Let it not be said Elidibus didn't expect aggression. Measured steps backward are meant to prepare a defender's stance and smoothly reaching for the great axe on his back would let anyone watching know that the Emissary does not need Ardbert's memories to know how a warrior fights. And the host body is strong enough to carry that weapon as if it were a trifle, so he is certainly stronger than many hyur.

But this is a mortal body and Elidibus has been pushing it, unwittingly, to its limits with ignorance. Only a couple days have passed since his arrival through the Mirror. He's had no time to learn the new magic or adapt to his horrible, deadened senses. The body is deprived of sleep, for how much would the Ascian thought to have gotten, when matters must be attended to? He has fed the body, but intermittently, having not quite learned the knack of regular meals. And of course the cold of winter and long hours of exposure while walking.

In short, for a more experienced, rested, faster and stronger creature, Elidibus is currently easy prey. It is a lesson he will remember well.

The axe is wrested from his grip, causing his upper torso to tilt dangerously with it. He's not left off-balance for long. Those wonderfully fur trimmed 'beast boots' drag across the ground as he's hauled up by the throat and he begins to learn the meaning of mortal 'suffocation'. Elidibus finds his hands quickly scrabble at the iron grip of the dragon's hands, trying to lever even a finger away. A strangled, hacking sound emits from the body's mouth. The already horribly lacking vision begins to cloud even more.

Normal people might find the desync in thought and experience very alien. The Ascian is a bit panicked about why the second set of sensation is present at all.

Then, the creature speaks. Elidibus's eyes widen. The realization that he had defaulted to Ardbert's voice rather than mimic his own is a secondary thought quickly washed away with absolute shock. The mouth opens and closes, as if seeking to speak words. What will be to his utter embarrassment later is only squeaks and gargles spew forth. There is no mimicry happening. His body's chest is burning (with the need for air) and his leg and feet kick the air in need of purchase.

This cannot be. The dragon's voice is unmistakable.... no, voices could be mimicked. The attitude, the tone and the passion. Is it true?

[fuelingfire]

It was almost insult to injury, having this unknown even insinuating things he'd already thought, wondered and feared. It was one thing to think it on his own - to have another voice it is absolutely intolerable. He had borne the burdens of the indignities this place had visited upon him poorly, but he had borne them, as it stripped his power away as if it were nothing, then began twisting his vessel into some shape he no longer recognized, then dared encroaching upon his mind.

But he knew his true place. He knew what he SHOULD be doing, far from this miserable star and its parade of snow.

The weight of an entire armored hyur should certainly be enough to be tiring, but it isn't. Not yet. And as Elidibus scrabbles at his arm, finding little purchase on the hard scales there, his snarl turns slightly into something more like a smile. Something like it. But not quite.

"Ahh, isn't that better. No words, just the piteous little noises of your frail form's final struggles. You won't ever trouble me or mine with such poisonous things again, will you? You won't touch anything that belongs to me .. ever again." What's one death? One well deserved, well earned kill, that would surely summon the guards sooner or later, but this stranger had dared trespass, then dared insult him, he'd simply do the same for ANYONE who ventured so close to his precious things and sought to steal-

No.

That's not right. What does he have to guard besides privacy? This person knows nothing of the tiny cache of jewels, he was not here to take them.

As the seconds tick pass, Lahabrea falls silent, expression shifting again, towards what briefly looks like revulsion before his fingers loosen just enough to let the weight drop from his hand, though not so quickly where this will be comfortable or pleasant, blunt claws dragging along skin. It's still at a height, and the dock is not so overly wide, he knows the interloper is likely to land poorly, and may well fall.. but the water is not particularly deep, nor particularly swift. Cold, yes, bitterly so, but imminently survivable.

Maybe it was too close to the full moons still. Maybe he hadn't shaken off as much of the beast as he'd thought. It was one thing to kill for treacherous words, it was another to do it for such animal reasons.

"I will not be so merciful in the future."

[notbert]

Saved perhaps, by Lahabrea's own hubris against the matter of dragonish instinct. A mortal's face certainly turns interesting shades when it can't receive oxygen or proper blood flow. The kick of boot and clawing of gloved hands has some strength, but it too is slowly faltering. The dragon need only hold out against the assault of one tiny mortal and... for an Ascian of his standing, that should be no difficult feat, yes?

Other, interesting traits to know about the mortal form. After such a short time deprived of oxygen and proper blood flow, it does not do well maintaining balance and weight. It immediately tries to prioritize getting air back into its system. That would be the whistling, ragged sucking noise in Elidibus' ears. It is shortly followed by a very curious jelly feel in the limbs- his legs- breaking his fall back to ground level. And then a smash of cold to the head, nearly providing clarity.

That he realizes, is what the river feels like. How alarming, when its shock almost knocks him out. How very alarming that he finds himself caught in the panic. The flow of the river is indeed slow and he would be able to kick himself toward shore easily under normal circumstances. But the water is dragging at his gear and the limbs still haven't recovered from strangulation... no. He will not let this occur.

Sheer willpower is imparted, forcing muscles to work together and ignore the cold, icy water seeping through the layers. To break head above water again and find a shallow, slogging quite ungainly to the water's edge as a sodden lump of hyur misery.

Ice blue eyes are cast up to the robed figure who had placed him in this predicament. The anger that had burned the moment he caught sight of the distinctive red mask's design had been left behind in the icy river. In its place is a cold lump that has nothing to do with the creeping chill of a mortal body becoming dangerously cold.

Recognition... no, not despair. But perhaps a touch of fear. Lips that will soon be turning a bit more toward the blue side part.

"La...ha...brea"

It is all he can manage before coughing. This cursed, mortal body and its fallacies. Elidibus staggers onto the bank and falls heavily to one knee, having to slam his hand palm first to the ground to keep from tipping further. He will. Not. Fall.

This time it was not the word he said, but the voice in which the dragon's title which had any significance. The Emissary had put all the effort he could muster into getting just those few syllables out, in a voice Lahabrea will...SHOULD recognize, before the mortal body's distress was too much to ignore further. That second of clarity had taken everything in him to express.

A small amount of water is coughed up and spat to the ground. Don't worry, he's still breathing on his own. He'll be fine.

It is not the Emissary's finest moment.