[open] hydaelyn's house for wayward souls

[exarchal]

Who: Anyone!
When: All of November.
Where: The Haven, at the "classy" grade house maintained by some people from the FFXIV cast.
What: It's mingle time. Drop by for a visit, make your own toplevel, maybe ask who that weird old guy sleeping in the yard is. (It's probably crystal grandpa.)
Warnings: Mind FFXIV spoiler warnings in threads!

[ Located past the fanciest manor houses is something a little more modest. The most prominent thing one would notice about it is the front yard, which someone obviously spends some time in, though the cutting of certain bushes is a little close to amateur. More importantly, it looks a little messy but very inviting, and there's almost always the smell of something warm and delicious coming from inside the house. The lush and flowering garden in the back has a recently-scrubbed fountain and running water, as well as a near-permanent host of small birds. Is it magic? Probably. Most of the flowers are roses, though, which are a bit hardier than your usual flowers.

The interior is just as cozy, with a fire in the hearth that's almost always going, and plenty of books loaned or purchased from shops. Furnishings are occasionally sparse but the kitchen is fully-stocked, as is the family room where most people spend their time. The dining table exists and it's nothing fancy, but there's almost always a smorgasbord of fruit and other snacks left out for visitors.

New this month are tiny sigils drawn in faintly glowing paint along the windows and doors. Teleportation wards are in place, as well as soundproofing for each bedroom (ahem), so anyone teleporting directly inside the house will find themselves repelled.

There is a spare housekey under the mat, though, if someone gets locked out. ]

Comments

[unsundered]

[Though it wasn't his intention, Emet-Selch can't deny the dull satisfaction in seeing the Exarch flinch back from him. As collected as the other man usually was, there were few times the Ascian ever saw any trace of the unease- perhaps even fear?- that his presence brought.

It was petty and meaningless to find any sort of gratification there, or in being deliberately unpleasant, but what good was being miserable if it wasn't shared? He'd ever inflicted his nature on others, though then as now, it did little to shift his mood.]

You have my cooperation. My apologies if my demeanor makes it difficult for you to savor your victory.

[If their positions had been reversed, if the Ascian had won, he knew he would have had no interest in preserving the violent history of the sundered world. If anything, he would've erased every record of their lives, as one would sterilize a wound. It was hard to believe that, when given the opportunity, they wouldn't do the same to him.

All he had was the promise of someone he knew had every reason to despise him.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he fixes the Exarch with a stare from one cold yellow eye.]

Your word... means nothing to me, Exarch.

[exarchal]

[The Exarch just looks resigned. One could even call it a little sad, but it's difficult to tell without the ears beneath the hood giving away all. He collects himself and takes a small step back, intending to leave.]

We might call upon one of the Warriors of Light whenever we begin. Despise me as you will, but they may be receptive to your company, and your stories.

For now, however, I think I have harangued you in the kitchen enough. [As if Emet didn't just insert himself here.] Mayhap we should revisit this another time. As you are my esteemed guest, you have full run of whatever food remains.

[unsundered]

[That sounded like a dismissal, and for once Emet-Selch is congenial to the suggestion. Did the wards prevent him from teleporting out, as well as in? Gods he was tempted to try it, but knew not to risk it.

So instead he just stalks past him out the door without an answer, for once using a rather rapid pace, waving off the Exarch's words as though they weren't even worth a reply.

In all honesty, he just didn't trust his voice not to snap at him, as though his bitterness wasn't obvious already.

...Well, that was one way to chase off an Ascian.]