aymeric de borel, certified 0 flaws except f (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
civicbooty) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2019-05-18 09:48 pm
civicbooty) wrote in middaeg2019-05-18 09:48 pm
(open) & i may not see the future,
Who: Aymeric and Francel and Solas in closed prompts; whoever wants an elf goodboy who likes ethics discussions and long walks on the beach in the open prompt!
When: mid to late May.
Where: the Coven, the Haven.
What: magic, ruminating on politics, rich boys probably putting mattresses on the floor, etc.
Warnings: gore, actually, but it's fine, everything's fine,
♞ practical magic. (the coven, open.)
♞ walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut. (moving in, for francel.)
♞ a strategy discussion. (tea, for francel & solas.)
(note/the wildcard option: prose is always okay. for any other ideas/whatever, feel free to pm me or hmu on plurk at elegiae ♡
unrelated note that a reference to the parliamentary records building is now undermael college because I didn't see a question on the faq until right now,,,)
When: mid to late May.
Where: the Coven, the Haven.
What: magic, ruminating on politics, rich boys probably putting mattresses on the floor, etc.
Warnings: gore, actually, but it's fine, everything's fine,
♞ practical magic. (the coven, open.)
[ Every day, without fail, Aymeric can be found at the Coven, diligently working on his magic. He's progressing slowly, in part because he's chosen no straightforward discipline: often he has an object in front of him on which he'll cast a spell; then he'll wait a little and touch it lightly with his fingertips. Many times he'll only purse his lips or frown, but other times, he'll yank his hand back as if burned (and he might be).
He also practices shielding magic, as best he can — he may turn, sometimes, and ask the nearest obvious newcomer if they wouldn't mind throwing something at him, yes really, harmless or otherwise. He's wearing armor; it's fine. ]
♞ walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut. (moving in, for francel.)
[ The house, the witches assured them, is perfectly safe. Yes, it did once belong to a family who succumbed to the Cwyld, but that's no reason for alarm, of course, they said; get a tea table and some chairs; get a fire started in the hearth, and it'll feel just like home.
It feels nothing like home, though, even after he and Francel have dusted all the rooms and carried in a few pieces of inexpensive but solidly-built furniture. Aefenglom is much too warm, for one thing.
By the time night falls, and there's nothing else to bring in or to clean, Aymeric has shed his armor in the house somewhere, poured two glasses of water, and coaxed Francel out to the covered front steps with them as a remedy for the house's stale air.
No one, at this hour, will see Francel's emerging scales.
The twin moons are bright overhead. Aymeric settles on the top step, allowing Francel space, and stretches out his dusty legs, looking pensively up at the sky. He takes a long, cool sip before he speaks. ]
I've wondered, I must confess, how much they truly know of that lesser moon. Folly, I suppose.
♞ a strategy discussion. (tea, for francel & solas.)
[ It still hasn't occurred to Aymeric to use his watch more often — or almost ever — so he's delighted when he runs into Solas by pure chance a day after they've moved into the Haven. They can't offer much in the way of hospitality, but they do have tea, and a table, and chairs, just as the witches suggested, and Aymeric extends a prompt invitation.
The house is too large for two people, though not as luxurious as some of those nearer the center of the city. The yard is a tangled mess of weeds, and thick ivy has smothered all but the windows on one side of the house. Part of the quaint carved wood detail above the covered porch has a sizable splintered hole in it, as if it was struck by something heavy, and a massive scrape mars the faded paint on the front door. The towering pale wall that separates the inner city from the outer is starkly visible, here, through the other homes.
Aymeric slows as they approach the door. ]
Francel has been reclusive, of late. I've no doubt he'll be glad of your company, but if he appears reluctant, pray forgive him.
[ He pushes it open, stepping into a clean but empty narrow foyer split by a staircase, and raises his voice: ]
Francel?
(note/the wildcard option: prose is always okay. for any other ideas/whatever, feel free to pm me or hmu on plurk at elegiae ♡
unrelated note that a reference to the parliamentary records building is now undermael college because I didn't see a question on the faq until right now,,,)
no subject
[ The second Aymeric's fingers dipped into his hairline, he shivered again. Took a breath obviously meant to be steadying, and leaned back, pushed himself away enough to crane his neck up and seek out Aymeric's face. ]
Thank you.
no subject
I must thank you. For your trust, in this and...in all of it. I'd have held onto the hope of returning even had I only my own meager plans, but, to be frank, yours are far better. And you've the patience of a saint, instructing me in matters I am so pitifully ignorant of.
no subject
Back where I'm from, people like me... they're considered too dumb, too badly-educated for... anything but a Fighter's post. They call us the dogs, and most of us were proud to even be that.
I'd have no fuckin' hope of getting a command, except of other Fighters. To be the whip for the brass to get them in-line.
[ Only my family and the other thugs ever looked at me like you do.
He smoothed Aymeric's shirt, briskly, and set his shoulders. ]
I'm glad I could give you a better kind of hope. But we need to get moving. What mages do you know, who could study the mirrors?
no subject
Solas — I thought first of Solas. He's got ears like mine, but he's smaller— [ his hand twitched, as if he meant to demonstrate, but Solas's height couldn't be far off Cain's, and it seemed better to avoid referring to Cain as small. He abandoned the description. ] —and, in any case, he has experience with unusual magics. I could also, if you think it best, petition the Coven for their direct efforts.
no subject
Huh.
Solas. I don't know him, but I trust your judgement. Meet with him, see if he's game.
The basics are simple: when mirrors first appear, there's an opportunity for us to use them to travel through, to research the magical signature of their appearance, and learn other useful information. It'll probably take a ton of magic and the window of opportunity would be seconds, maybe less, so we need professionals. I've got a few other people I could ask. My seraph, a... court sorcerer.
[ He rubbed his face, turned a little to look at the window again, this time
But don't fuck around with the Coven. Tell them as little as possible.
You want honest results, don't ask people with a vested fuckin' reason to keep you here to help. If you don't have a handle on somebody's motivations, don't trust 'em, don't ask 'em. The best recruits will be people who need to get home, like you do.
I need you to do some research, too, to distribute to our final list. Find out how many mirrors there are, what dates and times they're estimated to have appeared. Seems to be happening in cycles, meaning we can estimate later dates for study. I've already been poking around too much and don't wanna look suspicious.
And if any harpy of the Coven asks you a question, dissemble. They know if you're lying. Even kind've indirectly.
[ He started to realize that the list of orders he was giving out was becoming too diffuse and too long, and lifted his chin. ]
Is thirty days a long enough timeline to build a team? I'm thinkin' small. Three to five. Small enough to take shifts, have different specialties, and be below Coven notice.
no subject
Fortunately, he was very good at dissembling.
He tilted his head as Cain finished, nodding thoughtfully. They had three, assuming all of them agreed; and Francel...Francel was no researcher, but he was intelligent, and his loyalty couldn't be questioned. There would be something he could do. ]
Thirty days is more than reasonable.
[ More than he wanted to spend on preparations — but this was Cain's plan, and he was capable of deferring. ]
I shall keep this from the Coven, then, and go to the mirrors alone. And this— [ he tipped his head at the table, the esoteric bits of glassware. ] —shall I return for this?
no subject
And... I do wanna go out with you. Past the walls. Sometime. I don't know any more about handling a sword than I do about... I dunno, the collective inertia of a school of fish in a current, but maybe if I can get closer to active samples of Cwyld or something, I can learn more.
[ He crossed his arms, and tried to tell himself not to look up too appealingly. ]
no subject
A fine plan. I may be able to find a sword, for you — I could show you things without one, but the weight of a sword, and the way it feels to hold, is...not inconsequential. We can each be tutors beyond the wall, no?
no subject
It was in his eyes all the same, and how he leaned forward, lips parted. And then he... controlled himself, hands flexing, and nodded. ]
I'd... like that.
no subject
Good!
[ He laid a hand on Cain's shoulder, only for a moment. ]
Then let us be about it. I thank you, again, for the instruction. I shall contact you just as soon as I've got a sword — and you must do likewise, if there is aught else you would have of me. In this we are like an order of knights, a secret society, and an order is sworn brothers.
[ He swept around the table, trailing his fingertips on the wood, heading for the window — but paused, steps from the half-stolen piece of art Cain had framed, and tipped his head at it. ]
I like it.
no subject
His throat was too tight.
An order of sworn brothers. A Fighter and Navigator. A team, a unit, a ship, a hope, a trust. His face was flushed. He didn't dare seek out Aymeric's eyes.
Instead he put his hands on his hips and flashed a grin, looked at the piece of art, all bravado. ]
Of course you like it, you've got taste.
Now go on, before I do decide to be the rogue.