middaeg | open catch-all + closed prompts for August

[Ozymandias' choice in housing is far too large for him to hear knocking at his door from his room. (There's a reason there clearly used to be a troop of servants manning this place.) So, after agreeing to Dave's visit, he slips into a robe and moves elsewhere in the house to wait. He passes the time by continuing to review all the notes Zelda brought him while he was ill. When the knock finally comes at his door, he returns them back to their neat stacks before getting up to answer the door. He, of course, greets Dave with a smile.]

Dave, come in, [he says, stepping back and pulling the door open wider to allow Dave to come inside.] You'll have to excuse the mess. The full moon was a bit...difficult here this month.

[Two dragons going through changes, one going a little feral? Honestly, it's amazing that the house is still standing.]

[Dave himself appears dressed in a t-shirt but a largeish coat over that that appears to be covering something on his back, making a sort of humpback-esque bump on it. Otherwise, he's in jeans and, odd enough for him, sandals, but only because his feet appear to be larger with extended toes and claws.

All this description in just to set up Dave remarking as he follows Ozymandias' direction to come inside:]

Wow, a robe, huh? Way to make a bro feel overdressed even when he's wearing sandals like a middle-aged toolbag.

[He takes a look around and the place is pretty tore up, but, honestly, that doesn't bother Dave much. He's been in many terrible living situations crammed full of shit and destruction. He would only be impressed if their oven was full of weapons of some kind.]

No problem. Should see my place. Fuckin' nests, man. Couldn't get enough of them.

[As Dave crosses the threshold, Ozymandias can't help but notice the strange shape of the coat on his back. The natural conclusion here would be that Dave has sprouted a pair of wings, but it's difficult to say without seeing them directly. Ozymandias opts not to comment on it given that Dave has whatever is under there covered up. He also chooses to dismiss any comments about his own sartorial choices. He's in his own place. He might as well be comfortable.]

[Closing the door behind Dave, Ozymandias steps around him to lead him further into the house, beyond the destruction of his fellow Servants. He takes Dave back to the study where he was reviewing Zelda's notes. Many traces of the person who once owned this space have been removed, but not all. The walls of the room are still too dark for Ozymandias' taste and there isn't nearly enough art displayed in here, but the addition of some greenery is certainly his doing.]

[He returns to his seat behind the desk, gesturing for Dave to make himself comfortable in a nearby armchair or the couch.]

An effect of the full moon?

[Might as well not assume anything as far as nests are concerned. Dave is all on his own a rather odd one.]

[He chooses the couch. He hesitates for a moment, then dares to take off his jacket, revealing he does indeed have wings coming in. They're small, almost cherubic, and black as the ruffle of feathers around his neck, fluffing out from the collar of his shirt. He throws the jacket over the back of the couch and flops down, sitting in the corner of it so he has the arm of the couch to lean on but his burgeoning wings can not be squished up. He looks briefly irritated as he accidentally catches a wing on the back of the couch, but his face easily smooths back over as he settles against the arm.]

Yeah, I mean, I usually only make piles if--

[He cuts himself off abruptly, lips thinning as if suddenly glued together. He stares at Ozymandias as if to dare him to ask about it, then finally continues:]

Yeah, yeah, a moon thing. I made, like, 3. Pretty good craftmanship for a newb, gotta say. Missed my calling as a bird.

[Ozymandias doesn't know whether it's surprising or expectable that Dave is able to only grimace at the obvious discomfort of his wing catching on the back of the couch. To some degree, he would expect something a little more since so very little of what Dave does or says is particularly subtle, but then again, he seems to be well-versed in containing himself when needed.]

[...And yet.]

You're a terrible liar.

What?

[He blinks at him, hidden behind shades, honestly unsure of what he's calling him out on here. He leans forward, tilting his head just so, looking at him like it's serious business time (not really).]

You saying I'm a bad nest builder? Am I gonna have to challenge you to a contest of who can build the illest nest? I can literally build nests around you any day of the week, bro.

That wasn't what I was saying at all, [Ozymandias says with both a laugh and a shake of his head.] But thank you for proving my point.

[Because as it turns out, he was accusing Dave of being a pro-nest builder rather than an amateur.]

I think you're giving me sass here, but I'm not sure about what. But what I AM sure about is you don't give sass to your house guests, especially when they've brought you a get well gift that they made with their own two hands.

[He leans back again, careful about his wing placement this time. Ozy was correct in assuming he's good at keeping cool when he really wants to, but too many wing bumps and he might, just might, lose his shit for a moment. Gotta avoid that frustration.]

OR with their own one finger, as it were.

Pharaoh does as he pleases, [he reminds Dave. However, he does hold a hand up to somewhat yield to his request of less "sass."] But I will not have it said that I lack in hospitality or make for a poor host.

LMAO you're such a tool.

[He says that with the same amount of bite he would to his friends. And, yes, he says each letter outloud.]

But if that's the case, can I snag something to drink? A juice perhaps. [Dave's turn to sound like a tool.] I'll send you your gift while you do.

[Ozymandias doesn't understand the listing of letters or what "tool" is in this context, but Dave clearly says it with a friendly tone, so it doesn't particularly bother him nor does he question it.]

I will see what I can do.

[He means that fairly literally, too. He doesn't keep juice in the house as options are much more limited to alcohol or water. But before his illness, he managed to learn some conjuration. Juice should be no problem.]

[He stands to leave for the kitchen.]

Present your gift at your leisure.

Cool, thanks.

[He immediately pulls out the watch device as Ozymandias exits, pulling up the messages app and sends him the following illustration. A piece of art fit for a Pharoah:]

[He sits back and waits, feeling accomplished.]

[Once in the kitchen, Ozymandias sets to getting Dave his requested juice. Of course, juice is a little beyond his purview. He knows that there is some preference for it in the modern era, but beyond that? He stares at the glass he pulls from the cabinet, racking his brain for the different types of juices. Nothing particularly comes to mind, but he understands the concept that most juices are made from fruit.]

[So what would be an acceptable fruit to drink from?]

[Grape perhaps? That might run the risk of accidentally producing wine though. Some form of citrus then might do. People of the modern era seem quite fond of them. He pulls an empty pitcher.]

[It's a bit of a trial and error process from there. Lemon and grapefruit are unsuitable, both too sour and far, far too bitter to be pleasing. (As he understands it, most enjoy the sweetness of fruit juices.) But then it appears he manages to strike figurative gold with a sweeter clementine. As he allows the pitcher to fill itself and he fetches another cup and small tray, it's then that he takes the time to look at his watch, and...]

[...]

[At first, he has little idea what it is he is looking at. And even upon looking at it two or three times, he still has no idea about some elements. But he remembers that strange...Pokewhatsit. It must be a reference to that? But--]

[The juice!]

[Ozymandias must immediately set aside his watch to clean up the mess of the overflowing pitcher when he hears it beginning to hit the counter and subsequently the floor. Getting the spell back under control enough to end it takes a little more effort than he would care to admit, his frustration increasing the juice for a moment before he can settle back down and finally get the pitcher to stop filling. He lays towels down to sop up the mess and wipes off the pitcher, carefully disposing of some of the excess.]

[Dave tried to wait patiently, but it was taking an oddly enough long time to just get a juice he wondered if Ozy managed to trip over his own ostentatious ego and slammed down on a silent knife or something.

From over the doorjamb of the kitchen, pops in Dave's head, shades glancing around as if he couldn't find Ozymandias right there in front of him.]

Hey. That juice roughing you up there? Need me to make a clown outta it for you? Just say the word, I'm in there with my fisticuffs and towels up.

[Ozymandias looks over at Dave when he appears in the doorway and clears his throat. It's fine.]

No, that won't be necessary. I was merely distracted for a moment by your...drawing. [He sets the pitcher back on the tray.] You did draw that, right?

[He doesn't know how .jpgs work.]

[He steps into the kitchen, stopping just within the entrance. His expression is mostly the same as usual, but there's a slight quirk of his lip to show he's proud his comic made him make such a mess.]

That's right. With my finger on the watch, can you fucking believe it?

[At least one of them is proud of it. Ozymandias is less so, but that does not detract from the gift itself in the end. He smiles as he picks up the tray and walks over to Dave. The rest of the mess can wait for another time.]

You are quite talented to have accomplished that on these devices. It must have taken you some time. I commend you! It is a gift worthy of Pharaoh!

Man, finally. Someone important recognizing my talents. Ever since I was a boy all I ever wanted was for an ancient Egyptian king to recognize my work.

[He steps aside to let Ozymandias past, exaggeratedly rubbing at his eye under his shades, as if wiping away a gracious single tear.]

They all mocked me, called me a fool, but who's the fool now.

[Ozymandias leads the way back to the other room with the tray.]

I believe that may still be you.

[Pharaoh's got jokes, okay.]

open catch-all + closed prompts for August

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