Event Log: May

[moustre]

Event Log: May, Moving Day

I. GATHERING The morning of the 15th is heralded by the sing-song voice of The Coven's coimeadai sidhe Nerissa Bell ringing through the hallways, seemingly unimpeded by the heavy doors or any silencing spells that have been placed in rooms. She asks that all those who arrived at the beginning of the month - not the new inductees, the ones from The Looking-Glass House - gather in The Coven's main room; she has some exciting and important news to deliver. Once everyone is gathered, Nessie (very much a morning person, and sorry to the anyone who isn't) grins and lays a hand on her chest. "Thanks to a good bit of your lot, we've managed to get things ready in record time - aye, I should start out with what I'm talking about, aren't I? Well, well - with the Parliament's permission, thank goodness for my Mhairi's sharp wit, we've managed to get a space for all you to live in outside of The Coven. You can still come and attend classes or talk to all of us, 'course, but everyone's been getting a bit itchy with such suddenly crowded quarters, aye?" Aye aye, calls some poor, tired student from the second floor as they pass through, and Nessie pauses with a slow blink before she laughs, shaking her head. "Anyway, gather your things if you have any and follow me. Or us," she corrects herself, as a few other Witches seem to materialize from nowhere. "Can't be out without a couple of friends, I suppose." As soon as everyone's ready, Nessie and her entourage lead them out of the courtyard, aglow with fresh flowers and the soft light of dawn peeking between the clouds. The spot they've managed to get isn't too far from The Coven proper, and it doesn't look much different than the rest of the Aristocratic District that it resides in - the only thing that sets it apart is the sign Nessie takes a moment to conjure up and hang with balls of light between two streetlamps. The Haven. "Named so as a respite for all you refugees," she explains as she turns around; she sets her hands on her hips, gazing out at the crowd, and gives them a small smile. "I can't stay and chat right now - Mhairi's still with Parliament even with the hours, and I've got things to get in order at the Coven still - but if you have need of either of us, we'll be in contact. We've a little mailbox set up in front of the Coven just for you lot, so just drop us a letter or some such with one of our names or both, and we'll be right quick about answering, we will. Within reason," Nessie adds, laughing a little, "'course, within reason. Anyway, find some familiar faces and have a lovely time, will you?" With that, and a few more little goodbyes, Miss Nerissa Bell takes her leave; half of her Witches disappear with her, but the other half remain to help keep an eye on things as the day progresses and to help with directing people to either houses or the barracks set against the Wall. While there will be no NPC threads this time - sorry! - we have opened up an NPC Inbox! You can find it here. While they definitely prefer letters, they do both have watches now like cool moms and can be contacted through that as well, provided they aren't busy at the time.

II. 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 an 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. Some may be familiar with this portion of Aefenglom already, as they took on the task of helping to clean the area up. Surprise, one could say; they were preparing their own future homes, for their stay in the city. However, 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. Not everyone is so happy, however. A very vocal group of younger rich people are set on harassing and bullying those moving into The Haven, and they aren't afraid to use a little magic to do it. Levitation, fake fire, real fire, sudden weather shifts, and threats to do more if they don't find somewhere else to live are all present - these aristocrats don't care for the new people butting into their lives, especially anyone who looks distinctly non-human or already have signs of their Monster traits coming in. There are others, though, who are quite pleased to have new neighbors - many of them weren't so happy with their other ones - and have set up little stalls to peruse and tables to sit at to help foster them in. These have everything from food to flowers, to expensive-looking trinkets and jewelry on them - the people running them are quite amiable, especially closer to the Residential District proper, and don't mind handing these out for free... or mostly free. The only thing they'll ask of any characters wishing to procure something from their gifts is to perform a trick - sort of like a one-man talent show. They aren't picky, and as long as a character does their best, they'll give them a gift. (Or someone with quick fingers could just swipe them off, given how unprotected they are, but that person will find their hands turning red and leaving similarly-colored marks on everything they touch, as if dipped in paint.)

III. AND THEN THEY WERE ROOMMATES To help with filling up the larger houses - and even some of the smaller ones, and the shared rooms in the barracks - the Witches left over from Nessie's group have come together to set up a little roommate finding service that will run for the week. 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 similar kind of amplification magic that Miss Nessie used earlier in the morning for her own voice. It seems these Witches - or at least one of them - has a prankster nature... and unfortunately, it doesn't stop there. a. A LITTLE MISCHIEF While by and large the board will work as it should - a listing is filled out, put up, and read aloud for all to hear - for characters who aren't interested in doing some writing, or who can't for one reason or another, the board will take it upon itself to make one for them. It isn't going to be the most accurate at all, being either completely fictitious or based on a first impression from the board itself. This can range from "They have blue eyes, so you know they're a kind person!" to "How stand-offish, they must be a crook! A thief! A villain!" and anything in-between, including but not limited to: outrageous feats they may or may not have accomplished, poor hygiene habits, false accounts of incredibly embarrassing moments, and so on. b. A LITTLE HANDS-ON Not entirely content with just allowing people to write their preferences and call it a day, a few of the younger Witches have begun magicking small chocolates, hard candies, and bubble gum, and handing them out to new arrivals as a welcome treat. These aren't any ordinary treats though - they have one of three of effects: • Sticky fingers, meaning characters will stick to anyone or anything they touch. • Truthfulness, meaning characters will say whatever they're really thinking or feeling at the moment. • Desire for company, meaning characters will gravitate immediately to the first person they see, regardless of their feelings on them otherwise. Thankfully, none of these last long - only about ten minutes, and they can't be combined with each other; eating one candy with one effect will simply replace any other effects... Which might be for the better. The subthread for this can be found HERE, while any ones that are made up by the board itself can be simply written into your top levels or replies to other people. Have fun with it, and good luck finding some housemates!

Welcome to the midmonth event 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. As ever, 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

RUDE

[rowdyraven]

[He hadn't wanted to take a job here. Doing so feels like a small yet painful act of defeat, and perhaps that's why he's chosen something that has so little to do with what he's trained for, one that feels transitory, easily surrendered at a moment's notice. He's heading back from his shift at the local tavern he's been frequenting with such regularity when he hears the smoke and whiskey voice call out to him. Turns sharp on his heel in such a way that has his coat billowing out behind him like great, dark wings. He's already flashing a smile - bright, dashing - when he catches sight of Cain--

--and the person Cain is with. Guilt blooms in his chest like the spread of blood from a stab wound, although if one were to ask him, he'd have been hard-pressed to say precisely what he feels guilty about. There's a moment where he just stands there dumbly, unmoving, whilst he strongly considers the benefits and pitfalls of turning and running away.

But he doesn't do that, ultimately. They've both seen him, and walking away from them now would only make this more awkward than he anticipates it to be. So he takes a steadying breath, strides over with all the bright confidence he can muster. Flashes a smile that's just a touch strained around the edges.]

Hello there, Cain.

[A beat, just the length of a heartbeat.]

...Asra.

[lovebiter]

Oh... hold on, if he bolts I've gotta run him down...

[ His jocular tone sounded like he was kidding, but the way Cain leaned in and over a knee, subtly prepared to start sprinting, definitely was not kidding.

But, wonder of wonders, Julian didn't turn tail, and Cain puffed out a little laugh, and only just then heard the 'oh no' and saw the awkwardness flood into Julian's expression and

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

It wasn't him!! He wasn't the one this time, with the awkward meeting in a fucking hall or street of wherever the fuck! It was someone else! Anyone else!

He laughed, brassy bright, and waved both men to follow, stepping a sly few steps ahead, smile glittering back at them while he turned enough to look at them over his shoulder. ]

Ooooh, I smell a story. Okay, okay, you can't tell me anything, got it? Neither of you, not yet. You've both gotta come up the tower with me and do a thing, first.

An old tradition of my people. Really special, whenever you invite a close friend to your place, and takes like... ten minutes. Toking up. I'm not sure if it might have a different name or something where you're from.

[ He's a lying liar who lies, but his expression is so hugely bright and hopeful can you really say no. ]

[halfheartedmagician]

Ilya. [Asra's voice is as icy as the ocean mid-winter, and his gaze narrows into a glare at the other man. So this is where Julian's been hiding himself? He shouldn't have been surprised, it's barely one step up from the streets, a ramshackle home by the sea.

He's ready for Cain to ask questions, but what he isn't ready for is the reaction that does happen, and he hesitates for a moment before nodding uncertainly. He'd prefer to simply leave but... Cain should know what he's in for if he doesn't already.

As he falls in behind the dark-haired man, he shoots a Look at the doctor.]

Corsair? Really? I thought your choices couldn't get any stupider.

[rowdyraven]

[Julian's own uncertainty is evident in the high set of his shoulders, the sudden tension that seems to sing through him, so bright it can almost be heard. His singular gaze slides from Asra to Cain and back again, and quietly he begins to wish he'd turned and run after all.

There's a coldness in the magician's voice that cuts down to the core of him, and he's reminded - suddenly, sharply - of their worst days, three years ago, when everything had begun to fall apart. It leaves him torn, wanting to wither beneath the cutting glare of Asra's violet eyes, and wanting to turn sharper himself.

He moves to follow behind Cain obediently, though there's a heaviness in his step that speaks of infinite reluctance.]

If you say so, my dear.

[Words spoken lightly to Cain before he casts a quick glance in Asra's direction, only to avert his gaze again in the very next breath. The tips of his ears, they're turning decidedly pink.]

What's wrong with it? I've gone by worse names than that. This one is a reasonable descriptor, at least. Sort of.

[It's infinitely better than Jules.]

[lovebiter]

[ Cain coughed and cleared his throat to cover the noise of the hissed name, and looked back at Asra with an expression so shocked and crestfallen at the fortune teller, as if all his greatest hopes about the other man had been dashed on the rocks of reality. ]

Shhhhh! You can't go around saying people's real names like that, it's dangerous! Thank your lucky stars that a seraphim's not here, or we'd be considered married! And like, don't get me wrong, who wouldn't wanna wake up to that every day, but...

[ Shit, Asra, a real name. Did that mean they'd all be married? Something to ask Io about, fuck if he knew how all this culture shit was meant to work. He cleared his throat, realized his voice was a touch high and a little panicky. ]

Fuck... anyway, yeah, what he said. Corsair's a great name! That's like... a ten-dollar word. Half-class, half-street, totally works.

[ But then again his lady snake was named Faust and that was pretty badass. So... ]

But if you've got a thing for names, what should we be called instead? Besides the obvious stuff like 'trouble and a mess'.

[halfheartedmagician]

[He's all set to be irritated with Julian but Cain speaks up again and Asra stares at him in open confusion, clearly uncertain if the other man is purposefully being confusing or if he's missing something.]

You've been using my name.

[But he'll leave off for just frowning at Julian, making it clear that this isn't over for the doctor just yet.]

And I thought you were using Julian now. Why the new change?

[rowdyraven]

[If Asra is confused, then Julian is doubly so, made worse perhaps by the mention of marriage so casually thrown in there and applied to, what? The three of them? This is what he gets, he supposes, for trying to do the decent thing. Next time? Next time he's going to run.

The shape this conversation is taking leaves him unsteady, flustered, and the colour that had begun to rise in his ears spreads like wildfire across the high planes of his cheeks now, burns the bridge of his aquiline noise.]

That's, I...what??

[He stutters around the words, gaze moving between Asra and Cain before turning resolutely to the cobbled ground. When he speaks again, it's for Asra's benefit.]

It's...well. You remember the dream? With the faeries. In Nevivon folk tales they always said that using your true name when in the realm of the fae could give them power over you. So I...chose another one. Julian is ah, well it's just the translation of my name into the common tongue. Too close to the real thing, you see.

[And then, perhaps in the hope of shifting some of Asra's anger away from himself--]

Cain isn't his name either, you know.

[Sorry, Cain. He just doesn't want to have to bear Asra's wrath alone.]

[lovebiter]

[ Hadn't Asra gotten the memo about the name thing? Cain stared at him long and hard, wondering what the fuck 'memo' would translate to into old timey speak.

Missive? Was that right?

By the time he decided that was probably right, Julian was already explaining, and Cain was nodding along with him. He put a hand on Julian's shoulder, an unsubtle act of claiming, and tilted his head back to their route. ]

I haven't said it since I learned about the marriage-thing, at least. Anyway...

If you wanna be pissed at anyone about Corsair, it should be at me. I'm the one who asked for that, from him. Pretty much all he's done is stuff I've asked.

[ And then, a little imploringly, he reached his other hand out to Asra. ]

You don't... need to be all hackles-up.

[halfheartedmagician]

[His eyes narrow that the unsubtle hand on Julian's shoulder and Asra thinks back quickly to the marks on the doctor's skin not too long ago. Puts the pieces together. He takes a step back as the reach the door, putting himself at the rear of the group and blocking any chance Julian might have of running from this particular mess he's made for himself.]

I find that hard to believe. Ilya's always been more concerned about punishing himself and deciding what's best for everyone than actually listening.

[He folds his arms at the offered hand, rejecting the offer at least until he's gotten a clearer understanding of where he stands with the pair of them.]

Didn't you want to talk about this inside?

[rowdyraven]

[He wants to ask about the marriage thing, about what precisely he's missing, understanding failing him-- but Asra's continued anger burns against his skin as though standing too close to a naked flame. As the magician manoeuvres himself behind him Julian casts a longing glance at the street beyond, thinks of the tavern, of the swill he could be drinking instead of enduring...whatever this is. Because the magician's apparent anger with him, it's nothing that he really understands.

Why should Asra care what he gets up to? What he calls himself? And yes there's a sharp twinge of guilt in him when he tosses out that line about punishing himself, deciding what's best for everyone, and his glance goes briefly to Cain as he thinks of that night in the tavern when, an unknowable amount of cheap ale deep, the other man had found him. Dragged him out of his self-dug pit of self-pity.

But he feels a flash of the old frustration, suddenly, something that sharpens itself into bitterness as he shrugs the shoulder Cain isn't possessively holding, indicates with a small motion of his chin that they should keep moving. They're close to the tower now, and perhaps it would be wiser to continue this inside.]

I wouldn't waste your breath, Cain. He's always been like this. Impossible. If anything, I'm surprised he's still here. Isn't this about the time you usually pull your disappearing act, Asra? At the first hint of difficulty?

[He He turns back to Cain, flashes a grin that borders on knifey.]

He's not the type to commit to anything for long.

[He'll start walking again if no-one stops him, and look-- the tower is right before them now, looming large and silent against the evening sky. Perhaps they should all hurry inside, before they start drawing attention to themselves.]

[lovebiter]

[ An icepick headache had begun to grow just between his brows and above the bridge of his nose. Cain looked from the small man to the tall one with a sense of trepidation he hadn't felt in a long time.

They didn't need a chill hangout session. They needed... fucking therapy. A relationship coach. Possibly some prescriptions.

But they were like two different kinds of reminder of home. He couldn't just leave them to their squabble, like he would have almost anyone else. And he had a deep feeling that something between them, around them, was breaking. Might be irreparably injured if nobody stepped in.

Problem was, he didn't know what the fuck to do. The hand offered to Asra fell back to his side. Closed his hand on Julian's shoulder to keep him firmly in-place, looking between him and Asra. He spoke slowly, hand slipping from the shoulder to curving around the back of his neck, hand heavy. ]

Hey. Don't say that, about committing. Looks bad on you, to accuse other people of your same fuckin' habits. Besides, that nasty tone of his? Only somebody who gives a shit can hit that.

[ His eyes flicked to Asra, mouth firm. ]

Same goes for you. You wanna accuse him of not listening when you're here doin' the same damn thing. So listen, and stop deciding you know what's best for people. You don't have to be so damn catty. I asked for the name, and sure, we had a thing and you were right! He ran.

Most common human response to fear is fight or flight. So he does what most people do when they're afraid of something. Isn't anybody alive who hasn't run from shit. Needed to run. You really gonna be pissed at someone for that? Is that the kind of person you are?

[ Cain's tone said he didn't think so. But he took in a breath, voice already a little strained from talking far longer than his usual wont, and he ran a hand through his hair. Turned on his heel to continue towards the tower. ]

No fighting upstairs! So don't bother comin' up unless you wanna fix your shit.

[halfheartedmagician]

[There's a hot flash of anger in his chest that drowns out the hurt, even though he knows that Julian's words are justified. It's just like three years ago, both of them lashing out at each other for not being what they expected, and while he should know better than to fall into the same habit, Asra is already starting to form the next part of this bitter argument when Cain interrupts.

He stops abruptly as the words sink in, his face flushing and he glances away, tempted to do exactly as Julian predicted and leave without saying anything, slip away while the two walk ahead. But he can't let the other man be right about that either.]

I don't... [He lies, although the words are thick in his mouth and he has to force them out. He does care for Julian in a sense but the way Cain is implying is... uncomfortable to think about and he tries to push the idea away.

But he can remember the apology before, and he had meant it then. This... wasn't following up on that. Asra swallows and looks away.]

I'm glad that you're happy together. [He's not, and the words feel like he has to drag them out. He doesn't know why it bothers him but he'd really rather be anywhere but here now.] I don't want to intrude. It's been a long day and I'm sure you would prefer to rest.

[rowdyraven]

[Just like three years ago, when frustration and mixed-messages had boiled between them to overflowing, left them both scalded, burned down to the bones of themselves. And Cain's words, the tightening of his grip that leaves him pinned - for a moment - in place, they subtly shame him into temporary silence. The sharpness that had come into his expression, his face that - currently - shows too much bone, it softens out slowly, and when the younger man's hand slides to cup the back of his neck he takes an unsteady breath, tries to solidify himself around that grounding touch.

He's behaving poorly, and he knows it. Knows that what Cain says is true-- he shouldn't toss about insults that could just as easily apply to himself. Doesn't want to sink back into old habits, wants to be better than the selfish, bitter person he had been back then. The person he probably still is.

Cain starts to turn and Julian's lips part around a response, but there's Asra, already answering, a denial right there on the tip of his tongue, that empty platitude--

--and it's all empty, he realises with startling abruptness. Sees the lie of it, right there in Asra's face. Sees it with a clarity with which he rarely sees anything, least of all the magician who has only ever been unknowable, infinitely distant, to him. Who he ought to believe cares nothing for him but there it is, this unshakable knowledge, like a seed unfurling at the centre of his chest. That every word passing Asra's lips, in this moment, is a lie.

His one visible eye narrows, for just a moment, and then he's shaking his head with a sigh. Sends russet curls tumbling into his angular face.]

Asra. Look, I'm...I'm sorry. I don't want to fight. Here of all places, where nothing is familiar and everything is strange we should...make an effort. Shouldn't we? You won't be intruding. And you know me, my dear, when do I ever rest? Come up with us, will you? Just for a bit.

[And he extends one leather-clad hand, a little tentatively, for the magician to take.]

[lovebiter]

[ Cain had left them when he'd finished speaking. Passed into the narrow alley leading to the gardens behind the homes facing the street, carved out around the base of the old tower. He was clambering up the rope ladder on the side of the tower in seconds, and with the speed and inelegant efficiency of a rat climbing up the side of a sinking ship, to save itself.

He didn't look back, or down, or offer any reaction to what words filtered up to him, bounced along the stone. ]

[halfheartedmagician]

[When Cain walks off he almost takes that as the opportunity to leave and is almost surprised that Julian doesn't do the same. Surprised and then guilty that he'd expected that of the other man even now. For all their differences before, Cain might have a point that Asra is the one who seems the worst of them both now; Julian seeming to have changed in ways he hadn't expected since they'd last seen each other.

His shoulders drop as the tension eases somewhat, and Asra just as tentatively takes the offered hand, feeling leather and the thin fingers of the doctor's hand.]

I'm sorry as well, Ilya. I never seem to do anything but lash out and hurt you, do I?

[rowdyraven]

[Julian shrugs, one-shouldered, as Asra takes his hand. Feels mild surprise in the wake of the action, had half expected - more than half - the magician to reject the gesture, to make his excuses and slink off silent into the fading evening light. He doesn't though, and so Julian's fingers close around his smaller hand as he begins to lead them in the direction so recently taken by Cain.]

I'm an easy target. Hah.

[The words, they're only mildly bitter, and the feelings now, they're turned inward on himself.

They soon reach the tower and its ship's ladder, and he'll release Asra's hand only to motion him up before him.]

After you, my dear. Should you slip, I'll be there to catch you.

[He says it, even as he feels safe in the knowledge that Asra should ascent it as sure-footed as himself. And he'll climb up quickly in the wake of him, nimble and quick as a cat, and when he climbs through the half-open window into the large, square room beyond it, he's quick to cast Cain an apologetic glance.]

Sorry to keep you waiting, my darling. And for ah, well. Making a scene.

[He clears his throat as he begins to shuck out of his heavy coat, strides across the high-vaulted space to hang the garment on one of the pegs nailed into the far wall. Is already undoing the snaps on his jacket, means to strip down to the voluminous shirt underneath now they're safe and warm inside.]

[lovebiter]

[ The room was square and high-ceilinged, each of the large arches through which the removed bell of the tower had once been visible from the street now poorly glassed-in with hinged windows. To one side, not far from the top of the ladder, was a squat, potbellied iron stove, and beside it a neat row of split wood, which Cain was feeding into the stove. He lifted a relieved smile to both men, and snapped his fingers inside the stove to make enough sparks for a fire to catch hold.

He blew towards the fire a few times, until its red glow reflected on his face, and while he rose moved a small metal kettle from beside the stove to sit atop it.

The space was as spare and rough as he himself. A pile of cushions and pillows and blankets all to one side, not a stitch of furniture, one wall covered in metal and wooden pegs that served to hold unworn clothes, bits of rope and twine in coils, plain unused knives, an old hammer... the amount of possessions was spare at best, nothing really notable except for a few old books stacked near the makeshift bed. ]

Don't sweat it. Two weeks ago you got kidnapped to a new world, of course you're gonna lash out or whatever. Will you open the window with the better view?

And how do you feel about tea? You ever had it before?

[halfheartedmagician]

[Asra eyes the rope in surprise but scales it with the ease of someone who spent much of their childhood roaming over docks and ships. Once he's inside the room, he takes a moment to look around it all, tracking as Julian and Cain move around the space with familiar comfort.

His lips curl in a faint smile at Cain's display of magic and he wonders how Julian feels about that, or if he's been tempted to try any spells himself yet.]

Mmm, I always enjoy tea.

[A little hesitant, Asra moves across the room to pick a window facing out towards the ocean and opens it, letting a cool breeze laden with salt reach them.]

Do you have access to the rest of the building?

[rowdyraven]

[Shhh, he hasn't really noticed, or is perhaps pretending not to, each time Cain lights the fire without a match with which to do so. As in this moment, for example-- Julian busies himself with the process of partially undressing whilst the younger man tends to the lighting of the stove, his one visible eye conveniently averted.

Asra moves to get the window, which leaves him with no small chore with which to busy himself, and as such - stripped down to his shirt, but with leather gloves still concealing his hands from view - he crosses the relatively sparse space to stand by the window himself. With hands on hips he takes a big, in-drawn breath, inhales the scent of the sea as it rolls into the room. Feels, for one bright moment, as though he's somewhere familiar, somewhere known. And there's a curious sense of contentment that comes from being up so high, looking out at the city beyond.

Has he always felt this way about heights? In this moment, he doesn't think to question it.]

Pretty good view, isn't it?

[He says it distractedly, almost half to himself, before turning to back to face the other two. Folds his arms over the broad plane of his chest.]

And I'll drink tea...when there isn't anything stronger.

[He says it with the flash of a wily smile, leaves Asra's question to Cain-- for now, at least, he still thinks of this as the other man's abode, himself a transitory visitor.]

[lovebiter]

[ Cain's attention was too full-forward, in everything he was doing; he didn't notice the smile. But he turned a smile around to both other men where they stood, outlined by the golden light of deepening evening and the view of the harbour.

He smiled. ]

Killer view, right? Like every new day is the most beautiful thing you could ever see.

And... uh, yeah. We've got access to the rest of the building, yeah! It used to be wooden stairs all the way up from the ground floor, but they collapsed ages ago. Would take a week to clear the mess out, but the bottom could be made pretty cosy. I climbed down a little ways; we could make landings for different floors if we felt like it, as like... a summer project, or something...

[ But he shook his head, grinning, and pulled three small clay cups off the floor with his fingers, set them on an edge of the stove. Pulled a few small vials out of his pocket. ]

You'll have tea first, sweetheart, and like it. It was something special for my family, we'd only be able to afford it every few years if we pooled together. But there was a whole shop of tea, over on the edge of the district. You know, by the square with the fountain?

So I sprung for some.

[halfheartedmagician]

[He watches as Julian moves to the window and inhales deeply, and there's a moment there where the other man seems genuinely relaxed and happy that makes his chest ache to see. It's how Julian really should be feeling. What he frequently doesn't allow himself to.

He turns to look at Cain as he speaks up and Faust takes the opportunity to poke her head back out of his scarf and stretch out to flick her tongue against Julian's cheek.]

(Kiss!) [The word might be heard just faintly at the back of the other's minds, although to Asra it's far easier to hear. He takes a step back from Julian, anticipating the reaction, and walks to the stove instead.]

Faust, you know how Ilya feels about you. Here, why don't you warm up instead?

[She happily stretches out near the base of the stove instead and Asra turns his attention to Cain and the tea.]

You and Ilya have a nice home here together. I'm glad someone's keeping an eye on him. He gets into too much trouble otherwise.

[rowdyraven]

[Julian feels the light brush of something against his cheek, turns--

--and immediately yelps in alarm, taking a swift step backwards, one arm flailing outwards whilst the other clutches at his chest. It takes him just a second to settle...and then realising the room's other occupants just observed that undignified display, his face begins to suffuse with red.]

Oh. Faust. I uh, I wasn't expecting to see you there.

[He scrubs a hand back through his hair, obviously embarrassed, clears his throat. Begins to move towards Cain with the air of a cat who's been caught doing something stupid and is now pretending they meant to do it all along. Besides, the way Cain talks about the tea, with such overt reverence-- it makes him want to make more of an effort, even if coffee - or alcohol - are more his speed.]

And if you insist, my dear. I'm sure I'll like it. Need any help?

[He glances back over his shoulder as he moves to stand beside Cain, pitches his voice for Asra to easily hear.]

What's that, now? I er, well I'm not going to pretend I'm not trouble. But I'm just um, visiting. It's his home.

[Never mind that he's been 'visiting' for several days in a row, now. That it's been a while since he last slept at some dingy tavern, too drunk to manage anything else. Or some other, even less salubrious, location.]

[lovebiter]

[ Okay, he sniggered a little at Julian's yelp in alarm, and fucking beamed until his cheeks hurt as Faust worked her way over. Fucking best lady snake ever. After measuring out honey and delicate little leaves of tea into each cup, he stoppered both vials and put them back in his pocket. Crouched down to draw the backs of his fingers adoringly and carefully along Faust's neck. ]

Sweet lady. You get warm and cozy, huh?

[ He straightened and turned a wildfire grin on Julian, as if he hadn't anticipated the offer of help but was both grateful and actually... needed it. ]

I don't actually know how long it's supposed to sit! Steep? Go ahead and put the water in for me. But... watch your hands, be careful. No burns.

[ He turned to Asra, et his hands on his hips. ]

It's our place, Ilya. And I'm sure we could make room for you, too, Asra, if you wanna get away from that Coven place.

[halfheartedmagician]

[Asra subtly winces at the idea of Julian making the tea, but doesn't step in. This is Cain and Julian's home, even if Julian doesn't seem to think it is, and he has some manners.

...although they're sorely tested as he hears Cain also expressing confusion. He keeps his gaze on what the doctor is doing, even as he listens to Cain's offer.]

Hmm. Ilya is right about one thing, I'm not good at being bound to one place.

[rowdyraven]

[Julian half expects it, to hear some cutting comment from Asra's quarter, a snide little aside, but when no words of warning are forthcoming he makes a dismissive gesture with one gloved hand, clicks his tongue.]

I'm sure I'll manage.

[He says it a touch airily, but what are the chances Cain's warning was given for a reason? Hard to tell, isn't it, with his skin of his hands concealed by the gloves. A warning that seems all the more warranted just a fraction of a moment later, when Cain's comments have him looking up sharp whilst pouring out boiling water into the little cups, only narrowly avoiding spilling.

Our place, he says. Our place, and there's the sound of his name - his true name, so rarely used - pronounced on the other man's lips to perfection. A sense of the deeply familiar, even in this strange world. It pulls him up short, somehow, subtly, in a way he doesn't quite understand. Quietly, he clears his throat.

And hot on its heels is the offer to Asra, one that has Julian's gaze sliding sideways in the magician's direction, surprised, but expecting rejection. Just the brief flick of his eye, and then he returns his focus to the tea.

His mouth, it feels a little dry, suddenly.]

It's true. He's always been a bit of a nomad. Never can find him when you want him.

[Though it's said without the bitterness from earlier-- a factual statement, rather than a barb meant to pierce.]

But look, Asra. What else did you have in mind? I can't imagine you intended to set yourself up in one of those big houses, and you can't just knock about the streets for nights on end.

[Says the man who just called himself a guest in Cain's home, and who has - in fact - knocked about the streets for nights on end.]