middaeg | (semi-open!)

Entry tags:

(semi-open!)

Who: eren, four, lagertha and others!
When: throughout october!
Where: various!
What: quests, other plans and possibly event prompts! all in one post for less log cluttering.
Warnings: drinking in the open prompt!

plotting comment here, for each character! if you’d like a custom top level or tag into open ones, feel free to do so, or hmu for planning!!

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[ for the record! eren never uses the front door. it’s either lex’s room, or. lex’s room. that he always seems to emerge from. for the past few days now really, he’s seen more often during early mornings and evenings, casually sifting through silverware when no one’s there to look and question why a knife or two has gone missing (no one is going to miss one or two kitchen knives, laughs, right). he’s a tall dragon-thingling that nearly touches the ceiling with his newfound height, usually quiet but hovering towards a group rather than being alone, though watchful of the shorter ones whenever the chimera needed rest.

or else they’d get a new acid hole in the wall, maybe. today, he’s gathered the supplies, and a little something extra that sits bagged and enchanted over the kitchen counter to keep from melting. mikleo had told him about ice cream once, made it himself, sweet and frosty without actually hindering his sensitive body temperature. well, ingredients are in there. a nonverbal toast to the bond that has gone away, but was still attached to him like a breath of fresh air for lungs. it did him good.

he’ll wait for people to come around, but until then— he starts painting over the former hole in the wall magic paint. market approved, if he could read these ikea instructions and not make an absolute mess of himself. alas. paint is a messy ordeal. ]

Edited 2019-10-10 01:51 (UTC)

[Steven has been leaving the house a lot, but when he is there, he's been spending an above-average amount of time in his room. So, when he comes down from the upper floors looking sleepy and disillusioned, it's a genuine surprise to see Eren there, doing... that.

He stands on the stairs watching, trying to think of what the appropriate question is.]

Why are you painting the wall?

[He hopes he at least put paper down or something.]

[ the flight of the honk. again with this harpy! it’s dissuaded from one piece of land then immediately latches onto another. different tactics, then. its seen eren before, its tail feathers still gone and crisped to black and baldness— but it does not deter now that it has found a new nest to protect, fluttering to the ground and bluffing a stalking attack toward the dragon. his tail, especially.

which is. pathetic, all things considered. eren doesn’t move an inch when he decides to make himself known in the territory’s circumference, though he’s . . . hm! he’s lost on how to go through with this using a surefire way to get the goose out of here. chasing it out by force was only a temporary solution, killing it was. out of the question.

harpies are just annoying af, aren’t they! it takes very little for eren to eventually flick his tail at the bird’s face, like the back of a porcupine being tested far too closely. a loud squawk booms from where he stands, and a flurry of feathers rains down along with it, all seeming to make it angrier and angrier and, rampages toward the next closest living thing in sight. ]

[ magic paint is self sufficient and intelligent. if you know how to use it. eren does not. he doesn’t seem to mind it, at least. it dries and cakes his scales in a multitude of even brighter, fruity colors, and doesn’t dampen his mood like water does. ]

Keeping busy, [ he says, with a sudden flicking forked tongue all over the place to get a feel for steven, now that he’s in the zone. as for the actual magic paint— they come in balls, pellets, bullets. says you’re supposed to aim and press but he always manages to have it backfire on him somehow. ] I got them for a friend.

[ and now he has to. use them. somewhere. he holds his hand out and gestures for steven to flutter over and drop more paint pellets into his hands. they’re not for his friend anymore, it seems. ]

[ eren’s a patron of the vampire bar west of the coven, and he wouldn’t have picked a better spot for drinks and food— donated dragon blood gives him plenty of credits to use as he pleases, choosing so today to give him and his companion a quiet place to speak with each other, wet their lips and snack. viren was pulling together a better grasp at the information they’ve all received as mirrorbound, and there had been something new eren’s come across. the more people know, the better.

far more dragon than the last time they spoke (his transformation is complete, height, horns and all), eren waits at a bunk situated at the far corner of the leisure area, a glass of water in hand (for now, licking it as lizards do), his arms rested on his knees, and a long, whip-like tail that spikes fully at the tip once led by dorsal spines, curling at the edge of the couch.

the menu for vampires is huge ]

[ eren doesn’t make a habit of slouching around— always on the move for something, training his body and keeping in shape was no different a task from the usual labor he chooses. everyday, a few hours dedicated. always.

he continues choosing the favored hand to hand with those willing to practice grappling with him. which wasn’t particularly plentiful, considering a dragon’s strength and the fear of some fighters breaking their limbs in a freak accident. eren practices by himself until then, doing bursts of exercises that stimulate the same muscles used for successful falls, hooks and clenches. punches. dummy kicking (though he’s better with his punches). occasionally wondering if he could somehow implement what he knew when his form changed into that of a full dragon. maybe? he still had hands.

it’s only when he catches site of a woman and her strokes of a weapon he’s never seen before. it looked like a whip, many whips, so a little closer he comes, curious and bobbing his head harmlessly to convey that in his approach. ]

[ in one way or another, eren had been a part of this— even if it hadn’t been his idea or choice to bring in refugees. what’s here is here, and some of the lesser houses around the bright wall could use work. a lot of it, even in pouring weather.

something eren wouldn’t be in if he hadn’t his anti-water enchantments inked over his limbs and the membranes of his arm wings, a dull glow waving from them when he’s hit with the drops of water and still remains dry. with a pillar of wood hooked under each arm, eren carries them over to begin fixing the lower half 9f a roof completely faulty. you can tell with how much rainwater still dribbles through.

most workers here have been given enchantments to stay dry one way or another, a volunteer witch keeps the floors clean and slip free with somewhere better for the leaks to go. ]

Where do we need these? [ he knows it’s somewhere in the middle, to serve as a base for the new roof, but where the other volunteers need him to hold it was a different story. there was hammering, painting— and much more to be done as some magic takes the reigns and makes their labor a little easier. ]

[ eren is famous with the old people in aefenglom, who knew!! mostly, if not all of the monster variety, at least. when he walks about with levi during the evening hours to assist granny faun, plenty give the half-dragon a wave hello in between, asking his shorter captain if eren’s been eating well enough.

sully said he’s a stick!! one retorts. lost all his baby fat too fast for them, you see, so . . . quite a few are willing to offer homemade snacks in between the search for the garden murderer. one elderly pair even gives a little extra to humanity’s strongest, saying something about growing more. hah.

eren keeps a few snacks in hand, dropping them where the smell and scent is . . . muddy and different. flowery, maybe? his magic forked tongue (not magic, only weird) slips in and out his mouth constantly for a trail, especially around the uplifted roots of chewed plants and fertilizer. ]

They smell like plant. [ as if there were some sort of literal walking plants. not the worst case scenario or the strangest, but. walking plants. ]

[ find a smaller source of the lights from the wilde. the heart of it all continues to intrigue eren with its small (but present) connection to their arrival. anything close to unraveling detail was a step closer returning to where they should be. he was no turnskin, but the identification left around the trees and forest of the wilde was perfect enough for eren’s tongue to pick up and map out. if something had been there before them, what and what they may want to convert through the silent messages of pheromones were all in forked-tongue reach.

honestly, he’s tasting around for something else. the pines, the lushness of green and the trail of an emerald dragon somewhere deep within the skips of his traveling dreams. so far, nothing of the sort, but what he and akira will come across is another orb that floats harmlessly to them, out from a dense thicket. ]

There’s one— try and look interested. [ he points out immediately, and hopes it hovers close enough to akira for him to tongue tickle it. what if it had a taste, you know? ]

[ when eren isn’t helping with construction around the refugee settlement, breaks don’t seem like a wanted option for him (what are breaks, can you eat it). the shyer children tend to avoid him a little less once he’s paired with a massive panda turnskin who never acted on his own thought. they seem to be settling into painting the rejuvenated buildings once rain showers have ceased for the afternoon, working along with yako and even some of the children growing with interest.

there are capsules, buckets and trays of paint, some magically laced and others old-fashioned in the sense that they were messier than the cool and hip paint pellets that burst on harsh impact. the colors could be changed, if so desired, though for the meantime they have turquoise, hunter green, purple and cherry red. ]

Which one do you want? [ eren asks the panda, used to staying in a nearly full shift and sitting back on its rear, brows slanting and furrowing as if it’d been asked the most difficult question in its lifetime— which wasn’t untrue. trying to keep the panda calm, its fur quivering in fear of speaking for itself, eren turns to yako nearby, and coaxes her over with a dip of his head. it was the simplest of tasks that the turnskin has trouble with, but. patience. ] You’re free to choose.

Edited 2019-10-10 16:51 (UTC)

[There's a new one in the house now! It's Lapis Lazuli. Lapis, who tries to keep her head down for the most part and just try to work on existing in general, to try and get a feel for things that are so beyond her scope of experience that it's terrifying.

Eren, for the record, is one of those things. Terrifying for several reasons and that's because of his height. His looks. His...

Everything, actually. Lapis has done her best to make herself scarce whenever he's around.

Now though? Now she's just watching him paint. Awkwardly. Rocking back and forth on her heels and making the floor creak ever so slightly wondering if she should try and make a new friend or if she should give up Immediately.

It's not a great thought, honestly, but he looks like someone who could be a stand in for a Quartz. A soldier for defending someone.]

[ ice cream aside and hanging around more at house gem, it’s hard not to notice a fellow dragon’s hoarding fixation on potted plants. eren had intended to return to the cottage he used to stay in with his bonded, take the blades and pointed ended tools back with him including a move of his own hoard elsewhere. his dens were too lonely here, too empty— he may have to make a few extra trips back and forth to relocate his knives, and on the second one over . . . he decides to call peridot.

from the front yard of the cottage, eren’s tongue, forked and familiar with the house already picks up on the emptiness and the presence of green. freshness. the taste of dirt and the aroma of too many flowers to count whiff through the windows left open. opening the door, it reveals: a living space loaded with roses, an array of plantlife at every corner, colors, and only a grand escalation of it all toward the second floor up.

eren can still taste the smell of mikleo, faint and waning that compels him to nearly lick the closest wall. he sighs through his nostrils, then bends down to begin pulling at the floorboards. little mikleo knew that eren was a menace that hid his knives everywhere. ]

What do you think? [ surprise??? deal or no deal?? ]

[ listen . . . eren wasn't much of a baby sitter. he did alright with kids, most kids, though going out of his way to care for them— not so much. with rux striking conversation about his wing tattoos and bringing ruby in tow, she marveled at his height and horns (you're so huge, can i climb you?!). it turns out, their mother had been worried sick after them when they decided to wander off on their own, active and inquisitive of everything that didn't have to do with standing still and waiting for the day to go by.

so, she asks the part-dragon (a friend of her grandmother's, she realizes) a favor, and seeing no better alternative at that sudden moment, eren accepts (with a few cunes and blades thrown into the payment, as much as he tells her he doesn't want to be paid). he can barely hold their hands with how he towers, opting to keep his arms free so they could grasp at his leathery membranes. the boy asks what each nick and twist of ink on him means, everything is why? and the girl adores to hold onto his tail.

eren's not sure he's good at this, and seems plenty awkward as he strolls around the market block with them and back, until they've finally decided it's time: to climb mount jaeger. the twins begin to bicker about who starts first, before ruby, with teary eyes and whipping toward the closest motherly figure that has their eyes on them (in this case, alex), she points and folds her arms, pins her wolfish ears back and pouts: i want to go first! ]

. . . Then go first.

[ he's going to cause destruction and he doesn't even mean it this time ]

[ although eren may frequent desmodus, the sly sea dog is a more bustling place that sits well with the dragon’s fluctuating social radar the closer the full moon rises (or if he just feels like it). he listens to most of the boisterous sailors banter and sing, slowly taking in the sips of liquor and water in between lively conversations. a fight breaks out here and there, but nothing a forced hug doesn’t fix, blanketed with hardy guffaws as they simmer back to something more appropriate.

a brawny orca merrow slides to eren’s side to take him on, clinking their mugs together and offering a drinking match in a slur of words and fluttery eyes. the part-dragon was a lot more sober than not, and gently declines with: ]

You’ll fall asleep on your first sip.

[ lucky for them all— the drunk is a crier, and begins to sniff and bawl into his mug in disappointment. he doesn’t want to nap why did he drink so muchhhhhh 😩 eren was here for the people, and perhaps maybe a drop of info here and there about how the black city is doing. ]

Edited 2019-10-10 19:24 (UTC)

[ the wilde was a good place to let off so much steam, four has realized. her sister has returned to her, yet they hardly spend as much time together as four would've liked (spoiler: no amount of time would be enough for four). she's beginning to suspect her roommate is a ho. it's a coincidence to find the wilders hunting down lights when four sets out to slay some unruly beasts, her combat gauntlet over her punching hand (that's healed now, good riddance and fuck that green haired thot). one of the lights blink through the night's darkness, though four had yet to show interest enough in following.

she'd look at the ground frequently, testing the dirt, then be completely appalled at the idea of nesting here, close to the waters that call her. she fights every part of her that's different now, and that alone doesn't bode well for her emotional state. she's getting angrier. her songs become more vocal on a silent quest to find . . . someone. someone who could fill the hole in her empty, barraged heart full of bullet holes.

maybe someone out there would hear her. an unsuspecting beast, she hopes, to lure them in and take them out like weeds. ]

[ speaking of slaying unruly beasts: her element. four cares not for the jam being offered in return for her hunt (though she does thank the faun elder for her work and thoughts). so— where are you? says four to herself as she stalks the quiet little turns and narrow pathways of the gardens and land the pests walked around. she knows they're here. they leave messy tracks of dirt and trails of mossy leaves behind, even some . . . mushrooms, were they?

disgusting. ]

—Excuse me? [ she calls out, after catching sight of a woman's frame strolling about the same space as she. four wasn't so keen on it, it'd disturb the work it took to find so many clues in a single place. still, her voice keeps sweet and presentable. ] It's dangerous to be roaming at this hour, my lady. There are beasts about.

[ i can’t get enough of those honks. thing is, lagertha lives around these parts in an empty barn in exchange for her labor and the protection of the land that stretched outward and touched upon the beginnings of the wilde. she’s come across the ferocity of the occasional shade— ugly things long gone— and one or another adult petalwolf to bark and nip at the fallen leaves and upturned soil where the crops grew. none of it is a problem lagertha cannot rid of herself. she’s sufficient.

it’s the ever famous goose harpy that threatens to sleep in the stock of hay for the stable’s horses, pick at the packs and carry a dozen beak-fulls of it up to the roof. the rest is left scattered, uselessly, either that or becoming a victim to the month’s rainy weather. her owl grows agitated. you can’t give horses soggy hay. the little crops she had were left in ruin, and her food (a stock already small) was beginning to dwindle, all thanks to a feathered being that would not heed her warnings.

the shield maiden was not one to keep repeating herself or her actions. all she sees is a beast giving her detriment, and when enough had been enough, lagertha positions herself by the bushes and a small depression of earth, raises a freshly crafted bow, and an arrow straining the instrument’s string. ]

You will pay me in full. [ she says, quiet as she stalks the goose and lures it into her traps. ]

Edited 2019-10-11 01:36 (UTC)

[Steven watches, confused and enticed. He doesn't know why those little balls are exploding paint everywhere, but... he really wants to play with them? That looks way more fun than painting with a brush.]

Can I see?

[He comes in close, looking practically entranced by the prospect of these things.]

[Edelgard's disposition towards the creature was likewise unpleasant. The goose had disrupted her sleep, menaced her home, and pestered the cat she'd been feeding on the porch with the hope of it becoming a regular mouser in her little home. That simply would not do. Geese were not high on her list of favorite birds, either, and she was partial to boiled goose...so this task had seemed smart.

Leaving her enchanted axe Aymr at home, carrying a silver edged tomahawk, she'd set out and ended up spotting someone else seemingly hunting the beast. A warrior woman, one that reminds her a touch of Petra, yet blonde.]

The creature will doubtless make up for it's misdeeds [She muses as she skulks up.]

I'll happily help prepare the menace to be cooked.

[The weapon, Gideon Jura's sural, is heavy and unfamiliar in Chandra's hands. It's something she's been attempting to work with, to learn and master as tribute to her fallen friend, since she'd arrived...his passing only mere hours before. The snap of the steel tipped blades as she lacerates the training dummies, the sparks hissing and popping off of the shield spell she has to keep up to effectively use the weapon, and the sheer concentration on using the weapon's momentum are becoming more companionable to her day by day.

She notes Eren's approach and slows her training, pulling her blow back and letting the bladed whip go slack, falling to the ground before beginning to twine them back around her wrist.]

Hello, Eren. Help you with something?

[ eren, as he had been the case at the last bar, would be hard to miss. his appearance is discomforting, as per usual as well; viren's line of sight immediately snaps to any new changes his can make note of as he approaches. and, god. he think he spies him licking at the water (was he also in for that? the licking compulsion?).

regardless of the answer to that inquiry, he greets the dragon. ]

Eren.

[ a polite, if curt, nod. viren slides himself into a seat, ensuring his coattails to be neatly tucked beneath him. he reaches for a spare menu to take a look at its contents. ... none if it's terribly surprising, as he'd also donated a few days ago, but this is still a New environment.

somewhat offhandedly, as he browses through the items, peeking upward on occasion, ]

Been getting along well, I hope.

[ Harpies aren't that hard to figure out, in Bendy's experience. They can just get a bit grumpy. Really, really grumpy, in this case. Bendy had packed up a small picnic lunch to share, as a peace offering for him and his new feathered friend to bond over, but the scene by the time he's gotten there has... escalated.

Bendy lets out a small, wheezy squeak of alarm as the aggravated mass of feathers barrels towards him, and he hits the deck, covering his head to protect it from angry webbed claws. As luck would have it, the harpy's attention is caught by a new prize; Bendy's handkerchief full of snacks has spilled out across the grass.

Peeking between his fingers, Bendy perks up as the fowl grabs up a shiny red fruit. See! It just needed a snack and it calms right dowOH DEAR it's thrown the food back at Eren's head. ]

[ This is one of the many reasons why Geralt hates war. It's why he's spent so many decades entrenched in vile neutrality; because during war, he's always here. He's in the burned skeletons of demolished villages, he's knee-deep in the muddy mass graves left behind, full of press-ganged soldiers and innocent civilians.

Before he died - gods, hours before - he'd passed a long line of hundreds of refugees, been forced to walk past victorious northern soldiers dragging Nilfgaardian women and children away by the hair into the dark lines of trees. Nilfgaardians were the enemies, they'd lost in a shattering defeat at Brenna, but the settlers had been herded there by their government, by force, now left to the whims of victorious soldiers of Temeria and Redania with nothing to do but entertain themselves.

And this isn't even really war. But the aftermath tastes the same, because these are, for all intents and purposes, war orphans. At least they have somewhere to go; there's no long line to walk, and be picked off by bored soldiers. He can't distrust Aefenglom with the sharpness some do. Maybe that's foolish of him. ]

Over here.

[ Geralt is up in the rafters, probably barely above Eren's oversized dragon head. The little sigil on his shirt collar keeps the rain sluicing off one side, out of his clothes, like a duck's butt. Handy, because it's pouring down all over him, through the barely-there thatch and busted planks. Only his impeccable sense of balance keeps him from putting weight on supports that would crumble. ]

Shove one up under where that bracer is. [ Point. ]

[ they're yours now, little grasshopper. steven receives a handful of pellets right on demand, and eren even steps aside for him to give it a shot.

and, well. there're instructions? he hands that over as well. ]

You might get it better than I do.

[ he's noticed! luckily, the name lapis has been floating around the house ever since her arrival, very difficult not to take note of it, especially when she has her own identification trail she leaves behind. eren can smell her, even taste where she's been and what spot she prefers in the house whenever his forked tongue touches or flickers across surfaces. it's like he could see her without actually seeing her. crazy lizard talents.

he knows when she enters the room for the first time he's in the same space, tongue slicking in the air to catch the signal and— not quite act on it yet. there's apprehension and perhaps even a little bit of fear on her part, and that's not quite the image he wants to present to her as the strongest.

after a moment, he finally turns, slowly, just after a paint pellet backfires on him. now, a strike of bright lime stains his upper half, gets in his mouth, his hair and wings— ahck, his tongue's going crazy because the taste is weird!!! very weird. now, how to talk to her. hello? hey? maybe just— ]

—Want to try?

[ he has too many left. ]

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Page 1 of 10

(semi-open!)

@ steven + the rest of house gemy

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@ bendy

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@ viren

@ chandra

@ geralt

@ levi

@ akira

@ yako

hmmmm

@ peridot

@ alex

@ jorah, @ asura (also ota)

@ henry

@ persephone

@ edelgard

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