intro log: august

[faileas]

Intro Log: August

I. ARRIVAL Out of nowhere, a glint of light catches your eye; your heart thunders in your ears as your body moves on its own, your mind consumed with inspecting the source. Your reflection stares back at you, just as curious from the surface - a mirror, a pool of water, your most trusted sword, something fleeting that your mind can barely remember - then ripples at your touch. A moment later, you feel a tug, and you find yourself stumbling into a dark, musty room. Behind you, a mirror stands ornately decorated with reminders of home wrought in brass and wood: the faces of people you know, and symbols important to you; all things that send a pang through your chest with the desire to return to them. Touching the mirror's surface does nothing but leave the stain of your fingerprints. When you turn to survey the room, you find there are hundreds of other mirrors. None of them are as decorated as yours - they're plain and dusty, speckled with age. Then you realize a second thing: You're not alone. Distantly, the ringing bell of a clocktower can be heard. But no matter its distance, the time is clear to make out: it chimes three times, stark, resonating like a pulse of something in this mirrored hall that you and many others have found yourselves in. For those familiar with magic, they might feel the power of the witching hour upon them, though it will feel different from what they're used to - in fact, everything does. You're certainly not the only ones here, however. On the first floor, with the doors wide open behind them in the foyer, is a small group headed by two individuals. As people begin to arrive, to come from the higher floor, they're waiting - and they're waiting for you, and your questions. Explore the rest of the mirrored halls you've now found yourselves in, or proceed to the foyer? Leaving the Looking-Glass House makes it obvious that the clock striking three was for 3 AM - the night sky is faintly cloudy, but the stars are brighter with the absence of the sister moons in the sky - it's the new moon, after all. The Looking-Glass House is rather nondescript two-story cottage made of grey brick, sitting at the edge of The Coven's courtyard; stones which glow as you step on them mark the path to and from the two buildings. While fairly small and plain on the outside, the inside has been enchanted to be the size of a large library, with hundreds upon hundreds of mirrors hanging, standing, and resting inside its walls. Some are broken, some are cracked, and some seem completely uninjured - but all of them are just as plain as the cottage itself, showing age in the silver beneath their glass and in the greening of their metals... Well, all except a character's personal mirror; to characters, one mirror - the one they came through - will be decorated lavishly with metal-and-wood-wrought reminders of home, and the surface will be as clear as a brand-new mirror.

II. THE WELCOME PARTY Whether you've decided to find a way out of the building you've arrived in, or decided to explore the rest of the Looking-Glass House - and perhaps finding a few familiar faces among the crowd - you feel a pull towards the foyer of the first floor. It's like a firm suggestion, as if to take you by the hand and draw you to where it begins, and the source of it becomes quite apparent upon finding one's way to the front room: a tall, comfortably-dressed older woman and her even taller wolfish companion. "There's always a right lot of you coming in, aren't there." The woman sets her hands on her hips, with her Bonded casting a glance at those looking confused - newly arrived - and those who may have followed them in to talk to the newest addition of their mirrorbound bunch. "About time for introductions though- this here's Mhairi Ainsley, ambassador to the Parliament and my Bonded, and I'm Nerissa Bell, Head Witch of the Coven - but you can just call me Miss Nessie, you can," she adds, winking. "The lot of you must be as tired and confused as the last batch - hullo to those who've joined us, too! - so just a moment, dearests, I'll set all you right up—" With nothing more than a wave of her hand, rows of insanely colorful seats are summoned; half of them are wooden (sturdy and comfortable besides that), with the rest being misshapen and bag-like. Regardless, the seats fill the foyer and spread out a ways into the lawn behind them, making room for all of the new arrivals as well as the previous batch, should they have come to check on things. The Witches and Monsters that accompanied Nessie and Mhairi move to make room, and some disperse into the building itself to see if there's anyone who needs tending to. Mhairi steps forward as the chairs materialize. "Please, those who are able, join us for a moment. There are many questions that I'm sure you have - we will do our utmost best to answer them, and you may take any that we can't as a promise to find some sort of solution or answer." NOTE: If you wish to interact with Nessie and Mhairi, please comment here. You have the option of handwaving the IC interaction to OOCly ask what questions your character might have for them, for us to summarize an answer for, or you can request an IC thread. Simply specify in your comment's subject and we'll respond accordingly. Additionally, those with notable injuries or sickness will be attended to ASAP by Coven-based witches, and should anyone be curious about what they are - if they have magic potential, or if they swing a different way - then this can be done during this and the general hour or so the new arrivals are within the Coven's grounds. There are ongoing classes on magic, monsters, and Bonding as well, though they take place more during the day than at night - feel free to have your characters attend them at any time!

III. THE HAVEN After an hour or two of general chaos, questions that the natives attempt to help with, and injuries tended to for those who arrive in poor condition, it's time to make a trek through a bit of leftover ice and snow to where you'll be staying while Nessie and Mhairi continue to search for a solution to the situation. As you're leaving with a few Bonded for guides, peculiar-looking devices - watches, the native Witches explain, compliments of Parliament - are passed around to all the new arrivals; they're given a quick rundown on their functions and bid to test them out when they can. They can even do it as they make their way out of the Coven's courtyard and to the Haven. Formerly part of the Aristocratic District, The Haven is just as well-kept and brightly-lit as the district it hails from. The houses err on the tall and ornamental-side, large enough to fit several families (or, according to the upper class, their one family, several dozen servants, and guests), especially closest to the Aristocratic District. They become a little more modest and smaller as one gets away from the realm of high society and nearer to the Residential District proper. Newcomers are shuffled here and invited to find somewhere to live - the Coven is currently handling expenses for the houses themselves in a program implemented by the Parliament, though if your character wishes to have anything extra - like maids, chefs, and so on - they'll have to pay for them themselves with their own earned money. Much of the landscape and fixtures are the same as in the Aristocratic Districts, though it lacks formal emergency services due to its roots as part of a district that already did. Much of the housing already has furnishing due to the speed at which homeowners were relocated; they were given enough time to collect their valuables, but standard furniture such as kitchenware, couches, beds, etc. were left behind for those moving in. Other houses appear the same, but the dust on the floors suggest these houses were left before the new arrivals even showed up - a reminder that the Cwyld can strike just about anyone, regardless of standing. Another portion of this district has been opened up to the new arrivals: the barracks, the row of buildings pressed against the very edge of the Bright Wall. As the city's military force no longer has the same presence it previously did, the barracks have gone into disuse, and a cleanup effort has been in place since before the new arrivals came through the Looking-Glass House. For those who desire something a little less opulent, the barracks might just be the answer. The barracks can also be used for business, for a welcome center, a communal space, for anything that the residents of the Haven see fit to use it for - so long as the legality isn't questionable, on the surface. To help with filling up the larger houses - and even some of the smaller ones, and the shared rooms in the barracks - the Witches put together a little roommate finding service, on a smaller scale from the grand opening of the Haven. For those who aren't entirely sure who they want to shack up with, they have a small survey for them to fill out and post on the board they've magicked up in the center of The Haven. The board also very helpfully reads aloud each form for everyone to hear in a cheerful, monotone voice. It isn't able to be shut up, nor is it easy to ignore, being imbued with a kind of amplification magic. It reads simply the information you've offered up yourself, or that someone might have written up for you, should that be their idea of fun.

IV. LÙNASA Just like three months ago, those new to Aefenglom have found themselves brought to the city in the middle of a celebration. From dusk of Aguril 1st to the dusk of Aguril 3rd, Aefenglom celebrates something fairly special: Lùnasa. Traditionally, Lùnasa celebrates all kinds of traditional marriages sanctioned by Parliament, generally of the arranged kind, and handfastings, a ceremony based more on love and how long it lasts. The Coven's Bonds err on this side of things, though some Witches do have official spouses - Miss Nessie and Mhairi are an example of this, though not everyone marries their Bonded, either. Many of them are made during this festival, prompting the city to dress for the occasion just in case they find themselves in the middle of a ceremony, and just as many of them are formally renewed. Like during Litha, shops offer lovemaking potions, but only to those renewing vows or taking them; smaller fireworks, like sparklers and fountains, are also a common sight. Lùnasa is also home to the city's largest fashion show, showcasing fun and upcoming trends in the city. No experience is required to sign up to show off designs or to model them, and hundreds of tailors and needlework experts come together to quickly make dreams into reality for the end of the festival, when the show happens in genuine. The clothing is often wild and sorted into three categories: children, where those 14 and younger can submit their designs and model them as well; popular, where those 15 and older can do the same to try and vie for the judges' vote on what's in and what's out; and bonding, where all ages aspire to modify and make personal the traditional garbs of marriage and handfasting. While circumstances might be a little weird - and the month is a little cold coming in, given the snowstorm that happened at the end of last month - there's plenty to do, plenty to see, and plenty to take your mind off of just what a weird experience this all might be. Though those who have been in Aefenglom for a while now might notice something different over the course of the festival: they're a little more powerful than before, almost similar to the free-feeling that Boaltinn encouraged. Spells can still go awry, but the results will be much bigger - but it's frowned upon to use magic during festivals. Then again, characters will feel as if they're about to burn up if they don't use it a little... Well, just one spell beneath the shadow of the new moons wouldn't hurt, would it? a. JUST IN CASE While the city is dressed up on the off chance they might be roped into an impromptu wedding ceremony - it's likely that those who aren't native to Aefenglom don't have such luck. Thankfully, the tailors of city are offering free clothes on the caveat they advertise for them by wearing them around the festivities - they're long yet breathable garments, with colors that are fairly muted oranges and reds, not unlike the coming fall. It'd seem the fear of red skies from Litha has started to fade as nothing else too terrible has happened to the city at large, at least on the surface. And as it turns out, those offers might be better timed than they think: characters will be pulled into ceremonies at random to act as witnesses, to serve as dance partners for lonely folk, or just because they really needed someone to even out the numbers. b. ON THE CATWALK An annual occasion, the Aefenglom Fashion Show is always a bustling, bright time for those young and old to strut their stuff and try their best to either follow the latest trends, or spark them into being. Unfortunately, they're running a little low on models this year - many of their other ones decided to try their hand at sewing themselves - and so they're accepting volunteers! Willing or not; many of the more aggressive youths aren't above dragging those they deem perfect enough to wear their clothing to the back of the stage set up in the center of the Shopping District and pushing them out onto the catwalk dressed to the nines in all sorts of ridiculous-looking styles. c. EYE-CATCHING A few of the newest fashionistas in town have tried their hand at some rather... peculiar-looking clothing - but none so peculiar as those found in Precogstitchin' or Arwel's Tailory, in two completely different ways. While those who try on a piece or two of Precogstichin's wares will find themselves the center of attention due to their rather avant-garde shape, color, and pattern choices - not to mention accessories and rumor of being made of arachne silk! - those who try on Arwel's wares will find themselves being stopped quite frequently in the street despite the rather plain and dull colors and formless shapes the tailory provides as free samples. d. NEW MOON RITES While native Witches bemoan their weakened magics - some even expressing relief the new moon happens to land on a festival this year so they don't have to notice just how weak they are, mirrorbound Witches will find themselves feeling just the opposite: they're stronger. For those that chance a little magic despite the unspoken rules of the festivals in Aefenglom, they'll find the expelling of energy to be very relieving, as if a weight lifts off their shoulders. For those that refuse the siren's song of release, however, sparks of magical energy will fly from them, with a myriad of results - enchanting inanimate objects, transforming animals from one thing to another, starting small fires, creating illusions of the person or creature they fear the most... and so on.

Welcome to the intro log! While mingling on the log itself is highly encouraged, feel free to make your own logs; take the prompts offered and go wild, go crazy, go stupid, have fun. The network system is free to use once characters have their watches as well; information on that can be found at the bottom of the Setting page, while any extra questions about it can be found in the FAQ index. Quests can be picked up now as well! While new characters will have to get settled in, you can go ahead and put your name on some by replying to the August's Quest Pickup thread on the Quest Board. Finally, if your character is getting into any Shenanigans, let the mods know, and if you have any questions about the log, ask them here!

Comments

[rollfordiplomacy]

[FAST TRAVEL- the cottage isn't far, nestled into a cozy neighborhood of similar housing. Everett was fortune enough to live alone for the time, which he prefers to worrying over disturbing housemates. Leading Myr along, the gate and door at both left open, Everett not a man to be concerned over leaving his property unattended. The inside has a cozy, rustic feel with a few pieces of furniture and a hearth. Everett had taken up one of the bedrooms and left the other closed up for now, possibly to make into a study, if he really settled in.

A rat scurries across the floor and he reaches down, picking her up.]

Hello, darling. [he coos with a chuckle, the creature clearly a pet from how it chirps at him]

Settle in, I'll get the kettle going. [there's a couch of sorts; a log bench with worn, if plush leather cushions and a fur blanket draped over the back. It's positioned just in front of the hearth, which he'll spark up to hang a kettle over, having left one filled with water for himself. Tea is a ritual for the Springtide, so it's readied with ease.]

[faithlikeaseed]

[This marks, officially, the first time in Myr's life anyone's invited him home--

So he hasn't any idea what to expect. Creeping back to an enchanter's private rooms with hands already in each other's robes was something different again; maybe they'd share a bottle of wine, after, if there was time--but this sort of prolonged lead-up, out in the open where anyone might notice, is entirely new on him.

It's intriguing. It also makes him just the littlest bit impatient and itchy between the shoulder blades (who's watching, what are they going to say, is one of us going to get transferred for this)--but new world, new rules. Go along and see what happens.

He hesitates in the doorway at the sound of little feet skittering along down near his own, then gives a brief laugh under his breath as Everett greets the creature.] Housemate? Are there any others I should be careful of?

[He'd be mortified if he tread on anything that warranted a darling out of his host (and current infatuation).

At I'll get the tea going, Myr's deathly tempted to retort with, Must you? --But doesn't, because that would be rude; and instead he feels his way carefully over to the bench with the quiet tap of his staff against the floorboards. There he takes a moment to ascertain what he's going to be settling in on--before making himself comfortable in a lazy sprawl that just happens to show most of him off to his best advantage. Even in robes.

He's still got (some of) it.]

Did you say how long you've been here?

[rollfordiplomacy]

[He busies himself to slide out of his boots and shrug his overcoat off, to leave by the door. Reckless and bold he may be, the Springtide are very mannered people. He's intent to be the kind host, though he's quick as to not leave Myr sitting alone for long. He sets the kettle on, before he brings his rat companion to her cage to be given her evening biscuit.]

That is Clementine, she my helper. For the time, I have this cottage to myself. [she fetches! It's very handy. It had been more handy, back home, when he could keep her in his bag of holding and request her to find him what he needed. The magic of the bag no longer worked, so he merely used it to store his extra glasses, now.

Turning back to him. Ah. Yes, that's a nice sight. Most welcoming, sprawled out before him. Everett is sure that would be ever so slightly better if upon his bed, but he's not rushing.]

I arrived just before the festivities. Yourself?

[faithlikeaseed]

[Oho. Myr brightens at that revelation; no chance of a disturbance, then.

(Maybe he should be wishing for one, a little part of him whispers. Maybe this is too far beyond his courage--) He gives a shake of his head to clear the thought like a cobweb and busies himself with toeing off his own boots.

Because he's not a barbarian, he arranges them tidily by the end of the couch once he's done.] Same. Makes you wonder if they'd planned it that way--us falling through the mirrors right into a party.

[Everett is facing him, he infers from the other man's voice--and so he crooks his hand in a beckoning gesture, expression appealing.] Come join me? Give the water time to boil.

[rollfordiplomacy]

That would be a fine bit of planning, on their part. I do so appreciate the warm welcome, the warm accommodations, ah-

[he'll sit himself down as requested, but slide in close as he did so. Reaching his hand out once more, his glove tickles along the line of Myr's jaw with a couple fingertips.

It's just as playful as before, but without being in public, the act is far less teasing and far more sensual. Everett's tone is still breezy and pleased as could be]

And the warm company. Of course.

[faithlikeaseed]

Of course.

[Close is good and Myr is more than happy to get closer, leaning shamelessly in to the touch and pressing his thigh against Everett's. One hand steals out to rest on the other man's leg, all a convenient excuse for Myr to lean in just so and continue in a murmur,] And how might I make that welcome a little bit warmer?

[He is this close to simply climbing on top of Everett (before you lose your nerve), given the excuse.]

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Much as it's fun to play coy and flirt and tease, Everett is capable of being forthright. When the moment calls for it, when the contrast between the hinting and insinuating is most ripe. When being direct takes the most nerve, Everett's boldness is on his side.

He tilts Myr's chin up to him, lips close enough the man could feel the breath behind the words.]

You could kiss me, Myr. [It's a statement, eager permission to proceed, but leaving the decision to the younger man to make. Myr should close that small distance between them, if that's what he wants to happen here]

not that he's got his shirt off yet but this is my sauciest icon i have

[faithlikeaseed]

[Does Myr ever want.

His grin softens at that sweet invitation and he leans up that last little bit of distance to make it a kiss in earnest--eager and careful all at once in tasting Everett's lips. It's been far too long for him and this--

This is good.]

Gladly, Everett, [he breathes when they come up for air, in that brief moment before he leans hungrily in for a second kiss.

(See? That wasn't so bad after all.)]

[rollfordiplomacy]

[The kiss is very nice, the sort of kiss that sticks in ones memory, in feeling and taste and emotional resonance. It's not deep, but impactful all the same. Enjoyable in the release of some tension between them, but the building of new tension, that for further escalation. Everett gives a pleased hum against it, until it is broken.

He smiles more as the kiss is returned again. A sigh of pleasure and bemusement, Myr really was the indulgent man! It would seem.

Everett doesn't overthink the moment, carelessly, the hand he had on Myr's chin slides back to cup his ear. He doesn't realize how close that gets his fingers to that blindfold. It's not as if he intends to pull it away, it merely doesn't occur to him that any touch close there might be a sensitivity...]

**it begins**

[faithlikeaseed]

[It's only the slightest touch.

It's only the slightest touch and it's the pebble that starts the avalanche Myr had been holding back behind the wall of his bluff confidence. This isn't like last time; this shouldn't happen; this isn't fair--

But reason doesn't avail here.

(He remembers last time in awful unwanted detail, how he and Elske had crept off together the first chance they'd gotten.

Her hands tangling in his hair and the blindfold as he'd kissed his way down her belly.

That awful noise she'd made on seeing his livid, half-healed scars.

How she'd shoved him off of her.)

He jerks away from Everett's touch like he's been burned, a small guttering wounded animal sound in the back of his throat; gone is the easy smile, the confidence, replaced by obvious signs of half-controlled panic.]

I c-can't--I can't--oh, Maker--

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Everett easily falls away when he's pushed back. He goes the extra inch to be sure he's not in the other man's space, anymore, though he doesn't run off. Clearly, he's still close enough by to reach out to, but he's certainly not grabbing at Myr further.

Disappointing as such a sudden rejection is, Everett's mostly concerned. That panicked tone isn't to be taken lightly, not in the slightest. He repeats the man's words back out of nervousness, a habit of his, but it's quickly correctly as his own thoughts fill in]

I can't- ... ah. I hear you. Myr. Nothing more. If you don't wish it so.

[faithlikeaseed]

I'm sorry--I'm so, so sorry,

[Panic crests, breaks in a cold sweat, gives way to shame--and Myr tucks back into himself like he could crawl into his own skin and die.

He'd led this perfectly kind man on in his own foolish bravado and then lost control of himself over a touch, nothing more. What a wretched, broken thing he is.]

I should, [I should go, but he hasn't anywhere to go but a room that may never feel like home, nor anyone who knows him to go to.

The profound sense of loss he's been pushing off all day comes down on him like a collapsing wall and he sits there mute beneath the weight of it, arms wrapped miserably around himself.]

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Ah, this is something quite deep, he can tell. His heart aches for Myr, short though they've known one another. The other man is likely scared, probably jumped too far in over his comfort, overestimated his limits. It's understandable, Everett still did as much, even in his age.

Everett levels his expression and tone to be stern.]

You should remain and have that cup of tea.

[It's a tone that says I know what to do, I have everything under control. It's pure confidence and while commanding, it's protective and reliable. He's not talking down to the man, Everett sounding the caring mentor more than the overbearing parent]

I am here for you, my dear. A tender ear at your beckoning call, should you wish. If not, that is just fine, too. [Everett isn't going to tell him to calm down or hush or collect himself. No... his people were a repressed sort, but he saw the error in that throughout his life. Some Springtide habits might linger with him, but in that, he thinks expressing oneself openly and honestly is important. It's not easy, it's a vulnerable state to be in, so offering the support Myr might need strikes him as not only kind, but responsible of him.

..... Daddy energy: unlocked.]

[faithlikeaseed]

[It is exactly what Myr needs right now--to have someone give him a better way out of this than drowning in his own misery.

He makes a small, swallowed noise in acknowledgement of Everett's words, wanting beyond anything to--

To feel free enough to take up that offer, or simply ask the older man to stay by him.

And at the same time, to pull himself together enough he can put a good face on all of this, be brave and graceful instead of huddling here.]

Thank you, [he manages at last.] For--for this. I wish I--I'd...

[Words fail him again. He buries his face in his hands, dimly glad he can't really cry any longer. Otherwise, what an awful mess this would be.]

[rollfordiplomacy]

Worry not. You are as welcome as ever. [he assures again, the kettle beginning to shriek out with building steam. He will stand to go get that, tea cups and ready on the mantle top for him to pour the drinks down into. It should give Myr a moment to think over what he was trying to say, Everett getting the tea prepared clearly audible.

He will try to get the man to open up some.]

I believe you could use someone to talk to. [even more gentle, a joke to lighten to mood again, though the root of the humor is sincerity]

My ears are as eager as my lips, I assure.

[faithlikeaseed]

[It has the desired effect, at least: Myr laughs into his hands. Weak and muffled laughter, but laughter all the same. He drags his palms down his face--careful, so careful of the blindfold--and sits up at last, though he's got his legs tucked under him now in a way that looks decidedly uncomfortable.

Also makes him smaller.] More than passing eager, then, to hear someone's sorrows.

[A quiet sigh. Everett's not wrong: He needs someone to talk to. But taking that leap into doing it isn't easy.] I've not bedded anyone since I--was blinded.

[Which isn't the whole truth, and Myr is nothing if not keen on the truth (the Maker expects it). So--after another long pause--he adds,] I've tried.

[Anything further sticks in his throat and goes unsaid.]

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Everett very nearly says I see, but catches himself before he's utterly tactless in a serious moment. Finishing pouring the tea, he carries over just Myr's cup so he can reach out and guide the man's hand to it properly, without needing to mutter a warning that it's hot.

He'll go to retrieve his own cup after, returning to sit down with Myr. He hums thoughtfully]

More than a little frustrating, that sounds. I had not known if you were injured beneath that blindfold or if your gaze might be a danger to others. [that's... probably an odd thing to say? He doesn't know Myr's standards for magical expression, he should elaborate to give that some less cryptic meaning]

In my world, blindfolds are worn by young mermaids, to keep their hypnotic sight obscured until it can be controlled. Not an easy thing to live with, in either case. [If that sounds dangerous, that's because it is. Yet, here's Everett, still taking the man home with those kinds of standards. He is not a fearful man.]

[faithlikeaseed]

[Good save, Everett.

He wraps both hands around the cup of tea, glad of the warmth to focus on; murmurs a word of thanks both for it and for Everett sitting beside him again. Makes him feel much less loathsome per se, knowing someone can stand to share a couch with him.]

Frustrating puts it mildly. [One corner of his mouth creeps up, though, as Everett explains his own reasoning--his own world. Part for humor and part for wonder--now that Myr's gotten over the hump of believing in worlds in the Maker's creation, you can bet he's eager to hear of them.]

Brave man, not knowing which you were getting. Alas, there's no growing out of this.

[He says it with deceptive lightness, then has to take an immediate drink of his tea to cover for a wince. No, it was never going to get better and it was his own damn fault.]

But the living with it--that's fine, mostly. I make the best of what I've been given.

[rollfordiplomacy]

Alas! I find a certain thrill in fear and the unknown. Don't find me too strange for it, I beg of you. [he jokes along, though again, it's rooted in truth. He likes the feeling of fright and anticipation. He climbs because he's afraid of heights. Not to get over the fear, but because he enjoy the fear itself.

His sexual preferences sometimes fell in line with that... Sometimes. (Most of the time.)]

There must be a lot of pressure upon you. To put on a bold front that you are handling yourself well. You strike me as an independent sort, I'm sure you wish not for my pity. I shall offer you my understanding, rather, if you will accept it.

[faithlikeaseed]

How could I? Haven't met a fear yet I didn't try running at face-first. [Though his aim was more to come off conqueror of what frightened him than to take any enjoyment from it--

But oh, he likes this man. He does. What a friendship they'll have--and what delightful benefits it could have if that one insurmountable fear didn't sit like lead in the pit of Myr's gut. ]

Exactly so, [and he'd been doing so well at that independence, building himself workarounds and aids with his magic.

And now it's all gone and won't ever return unless he crosses bsck through the mirror.

He takes another sip of tea. (What had been done once he could do again. Just, Maker, why.] Though I'd say the proud and unbending sort, more. But I'm glad of your understanding--truly am, [and there's that smile again, though not so high-voltage this time.] Most people would rather the pity.

[rollfordiplomacy]

Pity is a hollow gift, not one I have ever cared for. You, my dear Myr, [Everett is growing immediately attached to this man. Sure, he had found him attractive, sought to charm him, but this is... this is different now.

This is a connection far less shallow. Everett's endless intrigue drives him to chase further, learn more, share what he can. That's more thrilling than any single night spent in his bed.]

You are worthy of so much more, I can tell. [this man needs someone who is confident in him, someone to anchor him in this world. Everett repeats, quieter and fonder so very, very assured]

I can tell right away.

[faithlikeaseed]

[Ordinarily, Myr has something to say--sometimes too much of it--for every occasion.

But he's got no ready words to express his sudden gratitude for Everett--for the other man's patience and stability, the generosity offered in the littlest things. Instead, he leans down to set his teacup safely on the floor, then feels cautiously to find Everett's hand and hold it tightly.]

Careful, [he finally manages, voice just a little hoarse.] You'll give me a swollen head on top of everything else, and then what sort of Monster would I be?

Thank you, Everett.

[And thank You, o Creating Glory, that I'm not so alone as I thought.]

[rollfordiplomacy]

[The gesture is a sweet one, Everett holding back firmly when his hand is taken. He ducks his forehead and pressed it to the man's knuckles, a gesture of humility in his people, but he lift his head to softly and chivalrously kiss Myr's fingers after. A short kiss, affectionate. Most delicate and sincere, her responds]

You are welcome, Myr. [a beat, because he simply can't stop his mouth from running]

Not the head I intended on swelling, so I will be mindful. [zing!]

[faithlikeaseed]

[Ah--sweet, chivalrous, and also utterly ridiculous.

Myr should've known. The look of consternation on the elf's face is truly choice--before he thumps his head (no, not that one) against Everett's shoulder and gives an exaggerated groan of agony at the pun.]

You'll need a different set of compliments entirely for that, [heart-ons and hard-ons coming from different places, and all.

He smiles fondly up at the older man then.] You're absurd, you know. Do they raise 'em all like that in Springtide?

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Everett laughs along at the groaning, overjoyed that Myr was at ease enough again to fall in so close. He's not going to try and lure them back towards intimacy, but there is something here. Something kind and friendly, something worth nurturing. Something Everett wants, even if it's not sexual.

He reaches to pet the man's shoulder with one hand, the other squeezing Myr's fingers slightly, still held between them on the couch]

Not in the slightest. I'm an oddity, in that way! I could never much help my sense of humor. Only knew one other Springtide, who was the same way.... and I loved him dearly for it. [a wistful bit of a chuckle. Ah. He shouldn't think too much on Silas here. So close to finding the man again, after so long, but now he'd left their shared world all together. Somethings are just not meant to be...]

Your begrudged smile is it's own reward!