middaeg | Intro Overflow: May

( original post here. )

✷ searching for the way things used to be ㅡ

[ he returns to the looking-glass house first, slipping out of their borrowed accommodation to make his way across the coven grounds.

it turns out the cottage is even less remarkable during the first blush of morning, sitting squat and gray at the edge of the courtyard. nobody had explained its exact purpose, and trying to coax the information from one of their hosts had been a little like pulling teeth.

so, it's frustration that drives him onward. if they don't have answers then he'll simply have to find them himself. starting with that mirror. ]

✷ just like fire, burning out the way ㅡ

[ one of the evenings, he gives in to his curiosity and follows the trail of smaller bonfires. it brings him into a wide plaza somewhere in the residential district.

there, children cluster together in groups playing games ㅡ some that he recognizes, some that he doesn't ㅡ or break away to cajole what food they can from the nearby vendors. splitting their spoils among themselves, as seems to be the tradition. and while he lingers, briefly, it's really the larger bonfire that holds his notice.

side-stepping most attempts to pull him into a dance, he finds himself with half a honey cake in one hand and a bracelet of runestones wrapped around the wrist of the other. ]

They say these will guard against the flames.

[ if he sounds a little dubious it's because he is. ]

✷ wildcard ㅡ

( feel free to hit me up at resurrectionist @ plurk or via pm. otherwise, feel free to find him seated across from a fortune teller in the entertainment district or cooling off in a rose bath. )

Edited 2019-05-12 00:06 (UTC)

note: continuing previous threads but lookin' to finish some current logs before creating new ones!

previously:

iramaat

dylas

belial

alex

vashti and solas on top-level

[ Solas may find the fleeting smile that whips across her mouth a perverse surprise, taking into account the subject and his biting retort.

She likes that he dislikes the idea of himself as someone to whom anything is ultimately fine, as long as he bears witness. For this, she's willing to overlook the insulting implication that he might need to rescue her. ]

Ah, don't waste your time worrying about me. I'm wanted--needed--on my world. Letting you or me burn is counterproductive when neither of us are capable of doing this on our own.

[ A quick and indelicate shrug. ] It isn't likely, at any rate.

[ And he gets to see it -- the beauty in her ugliness up close, the fact that everything appears so odd and yet familiar. Like muscle peeled of its thin layer of skin, earning a toothy grin as he continues to twist and twirl the two of them away from the fire. ]

No idea. [ Surprisingly earnest, this time around. ] But I imagine it must be an effect from this place. Our bodies accommodating to being somewhere new, adjusting to it as a means of evolution in order to survive -- [ With an abrupt sort of ease he takes her into a dip, face a mere breath from hers. His pupils slight, eyes red, as he allows his body to slowly be swallowed by the transformation. ] Are you scared?

( original - OTA still, I gotta make an open log for quests, so you'll also have the option of tagging that! )

( original )

"Antiquated" is a good word for it. I can't place the exact time period that it would be, but it's not something you'd typically see where I'm from.

[ Certainly not in Inaba, but despite all the places he's been across Japan... no, he can't think of anywhere that had something quite like this. It's very European.

His hand still at his chin, Souji's eyes flick back to her, serious and focused, contemplative. Like he's trying to piece all of the information together, despite the blanks they're facing. ]

Considering how many people are coming through, I can't think of anything else that it could be. [ Although - ] Does your mirror look different from all of the other ones in the hall?

At that her eyes do this squinty, unhappy thing, and Nel leans just slightly left and away from the elbow in her ribs. The pained tightness around her mouth betrays just how little she appreciates the casual gesture.

"I am... amenable to knowing everyone better. Anything more is questionable. Nothing personal," she clarifies. Iramaat is not unattractive, if she were to begin thinking of people in those terms as more than a note in their personnel files. "Just think of me as a friend, for now."

The for now is a pretty damn big turd that just got dropped into the pool.

( original )

I summoned a weapon, in the dream. While I specialized in a sort of summoning magic, if you could call it that, it was never... it didn't feel like the dream's magic did. [ You don't just know that by heart without practicing it. Souji doesn't even know the name of the school that the skill comes from.

But he dips his head a little in response to Kurapika's question, as well as proximity. He has no qualms with company, as well as someone to bounce this off of. ]

Not at all. Please, having someone who seems to be thinking on the same track might help get... well, somewhere, instead of being a disaster. [ A small smile quirks the corners of his mouth a bit, and he holds his hand out, offering. ] Souji Seta. I promise not to tell Miss Nessie we're practicing magic right now if you don't.

[ The ridiculous dance isn't too dissimilar from steps Nel already knows. She follows his lead like an automaton, hardly participating while the waxy liquid pools at her feet. Some of it manages to work its way into her boots and squelch disgustingly.

Too soon, too soon, she's off-balance, and his eyes are there again, horrible and disquieting in their reminders of another old enemy. If Belial's pupils are thin, hers are ten times as fat and black and she cannot look away because that really is a monster, teeth and everything. The ultraviolet of her narrow irises dies with the fading of accidental magic. ]

I am--

[ In public. The wet hand that slid down his side to go for a dagger hilt pauses, logic battling adrenaline and winning. It clamps down on his hip and might leave bruises if not for the draconic transformation overtaking him. The bones of a human man's fingers could actually snap from her pressure on them. ]

-- Furious. Don't ever accuse me of cowardice.

Edited 2019-05-12 04:30 (UTC)

"Of course, of course!" Iramaat cries, either ignoring or just not noticing the way that Nel leans away from her little gesture, that smile still on her face. Instead she leans over and gently pats her arm this time with a knowing nod.

"I do appreciate being surrounded by friends and I think we will get along just... perfectly. Especially once we know one another a little better than we do now."

There is a pause in there that maybe shouldn't be, but Iramaat brushes past it. She arches a brow, that smile cooling a little, until it's only a quirk of her lips, curious and a touch impish.

"And if you would ever like a sparring partner, please let me know. It wouldn't do to let my skills get rusty, hmm?"

( continued below. )

( continued from here. )

( well, one weapon—a knife, hidden in the folds of her skirts—but in all likelihood if she were to attack him with it, it would serve him better than her as him taking the blade would be an almost foregone conclusion. she could not summon even a whisper of flame when she attempted it, and has not yet tried again; she is obliged to rely upon the kindness of strangers, and for all her ideals, that is nothing in which she has much faith.

one hand out in friendship, and one upon the door, ready to bolt. figuratively speaking, at least; she isn't going to get far from behind him. nor is anyone going to get near, though, and for now that will serve. a nod, then, and it suits her very well to be tucked between her new acquaintance and the wall. privacy is in relatively short supply, but at least that isn't anything she's so very unfamiliar with; the difference mainly being that she has always experienced communal bathing or limited privacy options with a personal guard at her back, and not a questionable stranger.

this is what's before her. she will gain nothing from sitting down and wringing her hands over what isn't.

retreating to their chosen bed, then, she sits at its edge to carefully undress; her shoes set down with her gloves, her cloak, struggling briefly with the outer layers of her riding habit, heavy velvet tightly laced. the corset beneath gives her some difficulty, hands behind her back and fingers feeling overlarge and clumsy, but she only briefly considers taking that knife to it—

she will at some point no doubt need to put it back on again.

it looks less immodest than it feels to be left in her chemise, unknotting the ribbons tied at her knees for her stockings and folding all of her things neatly, and setting them aside. (she doesn't hide the knife's sheath, when putting her things in a tidy pile at the end of the bed.) the number of pins in her hair holding it up seems frankly improbable—and she despairs of being able to dress it again so neatly without aid. tomorrow it will look simpler.

tonight, she looks much smaller without all of her layers and finery, small enough that tucked beneath the blankets of the bed her feet don't reach the heavy pile of her belongings. the only thing she holds onto still is the watch that they were all given, poking at it— )

I don't suppose you know more than I do about these things.

( an easy enough opening to ignore, if he'd prefer, because frankly she doesn't sound like she expects that he does. he is familiar, and in a way so is the peculiar situation in which they find themselves; she associates him more readily with her own ignorance, and in that way it's more of a very mildly delivered complaint about all that she doesn't know yet than any real expectation of learning more in the immediate. )

( continued from here. )

( improbably—or perhaps not—she laughs, a sudden and lovely thing to the inclined ear, her fingers curling in the fur that lines her cloak. (it is becoming noticeably too warm for it, but she endures for a lack of anywhere yet to set it down; it would be all the more unwieldy if she were to take it off.)

no, indeed. it is not lonely here. she says, )

You can't imagine how long it's been since I've conversed so—

( amiably? )

—easily.

( not, perhaps, nearly so long as the last time solas was last able to speak openly, particularly not as some of her true youth shows in her hands pressed to her mouth, over a smile that she guards against being unguarded; she carries herself as a lady some years older, spine as straight and shoulders as burdened, but a short time might seem much longer to one who has had only so many sunsets.

she can't say that she isn't sorry. she can't say she doesn't wish to be where she was.

she can't say those things, aloud. )

Edited 2019-05-12 12:09 (UTC)

I am relieved your importance is greater than your flammability.

[Still sardonic, kneejerk this time. He’d hardly drop it in the face of a claim of being needed on my world. That claim from almost anyone would rarely earn respect or seriousness – and he already thinks her proud.

But even as he says it, the better part of him accepts that – for all he knows of her and her world – it may not be grandiosity but be on some level true. (Is it not true for him?) His instinct to be derisive melts away, as quickly as it came. He’s left with more sombre feelings – respect, curiosity, and perhaps common purpose. Serious, now:]

We all bear responsibility to our worlds. [The measured, equal breath-soft taps of his staff.] I will do what I can to ensure the steps we take here yet keep us on the path to fulfilling it.

Edited (reword) 2019-05-12 13:39 (UTC)

( original toplevel here. )

( continued from this thread. )

[solas grasps new concepts with impressive speed, though francel cannot say that he is surprised. he's not sure why, exactly, he gets the feeling that the man is a staunch intellectual through and through, given that they've had only bare-bones conversations; he can only chalk it up to the man's sharp eyes and general demeanor.]

I wish only that I could aid you — I fear I've not the proper background. If I'd had a knack for thaumaturgy...

[how different might life have been, francel muses, if only he'd had the aptitude to become a powerful mage? would he have become a respected priest in the vault's upper echelons? would his father have been proud of him at last?

would haurchefant have loved him?

no, he decides, after a moment. haurchefant's interests lay in the physical, not the magical; he respected sinew and sweat and steel. in any case, it's not important. no one and nothing can bring him back, and there are other things francel should be concerned with, like the man standing before him.]

...But I may at least bring you some research materials. What topics had you thought to research first? I've grown familiar enough with the layout of this place that I should be able to find most anything.

Edited 2019-05-12 18:16 (UTC)

(continued from this thread. )

[lux seems gentle and kind — the sort of woman francel doesn't deserve to talk to. he looks up at her briefly, taking note of her smile, but then goes on staring at his shoes, at the fire.

if he were home at skyfire locks, perhaps he would take dinner at camp dragonhead. perhaps yaelle and medguistl would look at him with the same eyes — sweetly sympathetic, as one might treat a wounded animal to be nursed back to health, implicit attempts at comfort in their words. they never understood. it was too late for me. it would have been kinder to extend the knife in mercy...

he shakes his head.]

You have the right of it, of course. Forgive me. [there seems to be nothing in particular that he should apologize for.] I simply... I wonder what everyone is doing at home.

(continued from this thread. )

Ah... forgive me. I suppose my speech was a touch grandiose; I do not mean to imply that the Elezen is superior to the Hyur.

[though there is the matter of the fact that hyur rarely occupy the highest positions in ishgardian society, but, well, it's not impossible! and francel is at least Not Dumb Enough To Mention That. more gently, he offers a new explanation for l's new question:]

I believe, in my world, some naturalists conducted examinations to demonstrate that Wildwood Elezen have, on average, better eyesight and hearing than their Hyuran counterparts — but if the results were disputed, I heard nothing of that. I myself am an Ishgardian Elezen, of Wildwood descent most assuredly, but there could be generational differences.

[curiously, he tips his head to one side.]

I hope this does not bore you overmuch?

Edited 2019-05-12 18:35 (UTC)

( continued from this thread. )

[francel leads the way soon enough. the history section has been freshly reshelved through his own efforts; some students of the library are studying nearby, but they seem more interested in flicking paper balls at one another than... doing actual work.

it's not francel's job to discipline them, so he ignores them, politely drawing up a chair beside a table for thancred to use.]

Here we are. Feel free to peruse any of the books at your leisure.

[he hesitates briefly, then ventures:]

Er... I take it by your remark upon "these lands" that you must be an otherworlder like myself?

( continued from this thread. )

Oh — [francel breaks into slighly nervous laughter, the sort one makes when one realizes that he has made a mistake.]

Forgive me. Adventuring is honest work, but 'tis simply not my trade. I am... well, it hardly matters now. I was the leader of a military garrison at an outpost called Skyfire Locks. I came by the position after the death of my lord brother; before that, I was merely the fourthborn son of...

[house haillenarte will mean nothing to izuku, so francel disposes of it after a moment's hesitation.]

...a noble family. And you? By your age and well-spoken demeanor, I would venture that you were a student of some sort?

( continued from this thread. )

[oh my gosh, belial, quiet down! francel looks around, nervously, as though he's concerned that someone is going to see him with this... abject pervert, but after a moment, his nervousness rather strangely seems to leave him. he furrows his brow, his expression hardened and unimpressed.]

How many people actually accept your overtures?

( continued from this thread. )

[that's a surprisingly sweet thing to say when they've not known each other all that long, but francel smiles, setting his concerns aside for now. he bows his head and sips at the milkshake. indeed, it's creamy and sweet in the best of ways — francel can't remember the last time he tasted anything quite so rich.]

Mmm. Indeed — certainly worth bartering one's soul.

[it seems as good a time as any to ask a question, so francel asks after a pause:]

...What was your world like, Ryoji? Was it anything like this one?

( continued from this thread. )

Oh — pray forgive me. For a moment, I thought you were a woman of my native Ishgard.

[he supposes that she is just a little too short to be an elezen woman. politely, he holds out her accessories for her to take them back — he'd offer to help her back into them, but he knows all too well that there are boundaries between men and women that shouldn't be crossed, so he keeps his distance.]

In my homeland, dragoons are warriors that specialize in aerial combat. They are capable of jumping great distances and with great force — 'tis not uncommon to see a dragoon jump from airborne enemy to airborne enemy, leaving destruction in their wake. I only meant to compliment the great distance of your leap.

Intro Overflow: May

OOC QUESTIONS

IC QUESTIONS

kylo ren - star wars - witch. ota

nel zelpher | star ocean

solas

no subject

souji seta ★ persona 4

allura ★

iramaat

kurapika ★

no subject

no subject

petrana de lamorraine | overflow threads

@ pech

@ veilfires

no subject

francel de haillenarte; ffxiv; monster (dragon)

@veilfires

@interlucere

@hearthebell

@wordsinthesoul

@defendure

@bluffer

@fortunyx

@sageprincess