Entry tags:
open [catch-all, quest 202]
Who: somnus & you
Which: log
Where: around
What: Quests, Catch-all, Wild-card
Warnings: cupid's pranks prompts
Quest 202: Cupid's Pranks
Wildcard
Which: log
Where: around
What: Quests, Catch-all, Wild-card
Warnings: cupid's pranks prompts
Quest 202: Cupid's Pranks
[ That this dream world is able to alter one's state of mind, consciousness, and emotions (or all three at once) is nothing new. Having been here over a year, the mayhem caused by these alterations is anything but charming. Phantom-- that is, incorporeal-- or not, wayward arrows bearing the mysterious power of this realm affect him as well; thus, he, too, must remain vigilant. But there's a flutter of wings, a giggle, a swift woosh, followed by a muted tap of a toy arrow against his back... and it's all over. The projectile falls upon the ground, joining a few soft, white feathers scattered behind as the cherub vanishes from sight... ]Smithy
Amorous[ It could be within the smithy, the town square, near the treehouses, the cafe, or anywhere, and it could be any time of day or night, but you will find that Reverin's resident ghost stands alone, striken and still. Only the pale, spectral aura of his death long passed shifts about him in its usual light, ambient and cold as the moon. His cloak rustles, and a hand emerges from the dark, heavy fabric to rise upward. Long fingers make a cage upon the slight-left of his upper chest. The motion is tender, steadying, and fragile, braiding all three delicately and deadly as a weaver's edge.Hostile
His expression, polished as marble, ripples with an unseen weight. Ashen, solemn, his gaze raises... to meet yours.
This. This is a great, incomprehensible, and terrible pain. ][ Among the various treehouses is one that's long been unoccupied-- seemingly, anyways, because the entire year that it has been claimed as a residence, very rarely has the resident himself occupied it. Curiously, though, there is a modest bit of land beside it that's cleared of snow and ice, thanks to the warmer weather besetting Reverin. Unfortunately for the same reason, the soil is no longer "soil", but melted slush and mud, with all four of its stone borders in disarray. This garden, if it can be called that in this state, is largely ruined, indiscernible from the rest of the land.
To make matters worse, the long-absent resident himself is actually here. He's leaning against the base of the tree, shadowed by its bare branches, his focus remaining fixed upon the damp, turned soil. Brow lowered, jaw tight, he doesn't appear too pleased. Perhaps the uncanny weather may have disrupted whatever he was trying to grow...
Or maybe it's you, who's unwittingly encroaching on this meager, misshapen mash of mud and brick if only to pass by. It's here that he stops you immediately. His voice is frost over steel. ] Hold.
[ As ususal, Somnus can be found in his smithy within Reverin. He no longer manifests in his traditional, giant-suit-of-armor, but instead his phantom form that gives him the ability to craft with much more precision. Here, he works on weapons, tools, and even jewelry! ]
Wildcard
[ Have an idea? PM this account,drinksteapots, or Jade294#6977! For the Amarous prompt, please only characters 18+ because of romantic overtones. For Hostile, depending on the interaction, Somnus may lash out! ]
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She hesitates, just a moment of confused uncertainty, then nods.]
Of course. It's better to be honest, isn't it?
[Even if he doesn't want to share it, don't lie so obviously. He can't possibly be fine, looking the way he does.]
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By that same patience and kindness alone, she could have him on his knees. No blade could do such damage, and his defeat is imminent. By all accounts, terror should accompany the great pain he feels within his chest at this realization, but mystifyingly, it doesn't-- at least, not to an extent that leaves him frozen.
Somnus' fingers curl into his palms, then relax. She wants honesty, and he struggles. Surely it is not the time, the place. It is too sudden, unnecessary, and undoubtedly unrequited. Not all truths lead to good outcomes, and how he has fallen...
And so, his reply is no more than a forlorn murmur, ] Mercy, Kisara.
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More unsure than ever before, she backs up a step, her hand hovering uncertainly against her chest, like she needs to keep her hand in check lest she reach out to try and help him again only to make it worse somehow. Is it his pride? Is it her? She doesn't know if he'd been like this before her arrival, so it's impossible to tell. Clearly she'd done something to make him plead (plead!) for her to back off.]
I'm sorry... I didn't mean to upset you. [He'd wanted to leave, right? Maybe her company is just unwelcome right now.] If you'd like to head home and rest, I can finish cleaning and lock up for you.
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--No. [ He's quick to dismiss the idea, and just as quickly, he repeats himself in a softer tone, correcting for the sudden, snappish tone. ] No. You've done nothing wrong. It is... [ At last he animates, raising his hand up to jaw, palm partially covering his mouth. Another pause follows, and his hand lifts further to card through his hair. The strands fall haphazardly back over his pinched brow.
He could say that she needn't do more work, but how would that come off as, firing her? He's already stumbling over his words, no need to throw more misunderstandings into the mess.
Somnus looks at her. ]
Let us walk.
[ Ah.
...Hm. This is probably a mistake on his part for asking. ]
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Alright... lead the way.
[Perhaps rather than push for answers, she'll just join him and let him open up as he pleases. She's wary about what's going on, but she won't feel right if she leaves him alone, either. What if he collapses somewhere? Becomes intangible while he's unconscious? She couldn't exactly carry him to shelter if that happened. But if it happened unsupervised no one would know to call for help, either.]
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He's getting ahead of himself. (And isn't stepping outside not part of the effort to quell such intrusive thoughts?)
But first...
His arm lifts for her to take, naturally. ]
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Since she'd decided to keep her mouth shut until he decides where they're going with this, she'll follow his lead as she said she would, letting him choose the direction and path upon which to walk. She is really hoping for some answers, here.]
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As for the contact... he has offered his arm to others before. It is normally a casual gesture, but he's far more aware of how hers lays over his today. Perhaps it is because the connection highlights their most obvious differences: she is warm, and he is not. She is a living, breathing person, while his heart is nowhere to be found...
(Then why, with her beside him, does he feel both lighter and heavier at once?) ]
Allow me to clarify, [ When they pass along a row of tall, grand evergreens, he speaks. The dryness of his voice has subsided, somewhat, returning it to the usual low and smooth cadence. He speaks with care and caution. ] ...that I hear your concern. You are kind... Kind in a way that is only yours.
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She takes note of the direction they're headed, but offers no protest. She's been alone with him before, so it isn't concerning; she'd have been more worried if he had led them somewhere more public, because it meant he had nothing much to share. Whatever is so deeply bothersome to him surely can't be for public consumption.
But okay, he 'hears her concern'. Doesn't mean he's going to do anything about it. It's a... step in the right direction.]
Kindness can only go so far. The one receiving it has to accept.
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As for her kindness and the subject of accepting it— he can’t, not fully. It is overwhelming, and he would only drown it it. He is already, but this is not a failing on her part.
Somnus looks ahead, where the row of evergreen trees give way to the scattered edge of a forest. ]
The grace you give… they are fools to not accept it fully.
[ And he is among them. ]
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I have to be honest... I'm not sure how to take any of this. You won't say you're sick, but you aren't acting like yourself today, either. But it isn't anything I did?
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Fate has other plans. Cold dread resurfaces its ugly head when she inquires about his health once more. If it's one thing he will not stand, it's her assuming that she is somehow at fault.
He turns his head, looking at her profile. ]
You do, and have done, no wrong.
[ And, frankly, she could do no wrong in his eyes. ] I pray you belive this, if nothing else.
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So... hmm. She feels somewhat at a standstill, but he seems so discomforted by her questioning that it would be wrong of her to push. Her goal is not to pester him with her worries or make him feel worse. That would not be a kind thing to do, and he's been patient with her multiple attempts already. After a few moments of quiet, she finally responds,]
Alright. I believe you.
[If he doesn't want to talk about it, she won't force him. They can just... walk for a while. It's okay, she thinks, it isn't a bad thing to do nothing more than share one's company with another. Maybe he'll feel better after.]
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They continue on their walk, and maybe this will do the both of them good. Him, for reasons he keeps quiet about, and perhaps for her, some time in which she is not busying herself with a chore.
To think that she offered closing up the smithy for him, when it should be his responsibility.
It’s a bit of a topic change, but he inquires: ]
Have you… ever considered that you work too much?
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[She glances sidelong at him, surprised. Isn't he the one usually going on about duty and expectations? The need to work hard and protect what they have? Nevermind that he basically lives at the smithy and this whole conversation started because she was shocked he might leave early...
Hypocrisy aside, she does give the question some thought. No, she probably doesn't usually consider that. Should she is another story.]
I suppose I haven't given it much thought. When work needs to be done, I usually volunteer. It's mostly habit at this point.
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That is to say... [ She helps at the smithy, picking up after Alphen when she needn't, or taking up his tasks in addition to hers when he is out. All this, without any complaint. It is impossible not to notice how her help includes actively reaching out to others or simply doing a task before being asked. ] You go beyond, taking others' responsibilities as your own, putting them before yourself.
[ Only once has he seen her indisposed, and that had been in the fields of flowers back when they had taken up roles within a story involving "Oz". In a dream world that affords them the time, he would rather see her enjoy herself with leisure activity, not staying within the smithy and working with iron. ]
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I... suppose.
[It's not really a firm agreement or denial. Yes, she does a lot of work for her friends, or for those who she thinks need it. Yes, sometimes she gets tired or worn down. But the same could be said of most people who like to help others, couldn't it? There's a degree of tirelessness that comes from aiding those in need. And here, at least, it's actually much less work than she's used to. She's missing half of her party, her city patrols are far more relaxed, and cleaning the house or the smithy gives her something to do. She still has time to train, tend to her equipment, and fish. It's far from a bad life.]
I think you're missing something, though. It isn't a burden, taking on extra work for those I care about. And this isn't meant to be a vacation, either. We may be dreaming versions of our old selves, but the lives we lead here are no less real, right? So we need to take care of this place, and each other.
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But it seems she extends her duty to protect to this world, too-- choosing to risk her own safety and health for others she hardly knows in a world that has given her nothing but risks in return, from dragons to nightmare's corruption.
Once more he stands in quiet awe of her, although it shows as only a slightly slackened, less grim countenance. He states, simply: ] Those are words of one who leads without effort.
[ A pause, and when his speaks again, it's upon a breath. ] You are noble.
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[There's a slice of irony to that comment. How different this conversation is from the one they'd shared at the wedding, where there may as well have been a chasm stretched out between them. The context is not the same, of course, and thus neither is the meaning. Still... the irony remains. She does like this much better. Walking arm in arm with him, at his side, like equals who might even enjoy one another's company. She is not a noble, but she is noble. It's almost sweet of him, and what strikes a chord more is how sincere he seems as he says it. She doubts he would have lied to placate her - he's never indicated himself to be that type - but he could have said it plainly, without emotion, like acknowledging a fact. Instead, he'd...
...well, she's not sure what to make of this. Since this meeting had begun, he'd puzzled her left and right. It is well worth recognizing his effort, though, so:]
Coming from you, that means a lot.
[In more ways than one.]
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It seems he's said something right, here, because her expression changes, and Somnus' gaze follows the subtle shift, lowering upon her face. There, the corners of her mouth have curved upward into a small smile, and his focus lingers.
There are suddenly a great many things he wishes to do at this moment: to reach up to her, to cup the side of her face, to brush the strand of hair away from her cheek, to feel her skin beneath the pad of his thumb, to behold the softness of that smile further (and to wonder if it is soft to feel)... To preserve it, to give her no other reason to frown, and if that's not possible, to make it so she only has more opportunities to smile.
He tears his gaze from her lips, and although he turns his head forward, stalwart, another color accents the highest part of a cheekbone. Against the pallor of his skin, it's only a dust of rose, but by dreamotion alone, his aura is no longer as cold as it had been before. ]
It is true... and laudable.
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...You're very generous with your words today. Now you have me wondering if I actually did something good, with all my meddling.
[Here she'd been worrying she was fussing too much. Maybe he likes it?]
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Whether he can withstand that radiance for long is another question. Perhaps years within the Ring, followed by a decade corrupted by darkness, has left him both shirking and longing for light such as this. Somehow, he persists in merely walking beside her. ]
Not all have a heart as grand as yours. [ He replies, his tone thoughtful and soft, wavering with a touch of vulnerability. ] More and more, Kisara... I find myself marveling at it.
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Somnus, are you... [...okay, she wants to ask again, but it had gotten her nowhere before. She swallows hard, attempting to stamp down her rising nerves, and amends,] Just what are you trying to say?
[He usually speaks with such purpose, leading somewhere. She doesn't know how to receive all these unprompted compliments when she doesn't know where he's going with it. It isn't doing anything to alleviate her worries for him, that's for sure.]
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But when she looks at him like that, barriers crumble as if they had never been there, one after the other. Mercy, for which he had asked earlier, is cruel like this, but oh so divine. The balm of her smile, the warmth of her touch, and the patience with which she regards him, cause him to stay rather than leave. How thoroughly she has him.
All this manifests as conflict within the sea of his eyes, but at last something gives. Somnus unlinks her arm from her. ] The sun captivates all as it sets. [ If this is to be it, if he is to speak and give the truth as she asked, to risk all, but never see her again... then he at least wants to do this:
His hand rises to the side of her face, slow to allow her the space to pull away, if she wishes. His palm makes no direct contact but instead hovers near as if loveliness of her makes her untouchable. Still, he dares to feel-- and with his long fingers extending, it's but a whisper of a touch, a thumb brushing that single strand of hair from the side of her face to behind her ear. ]
But here stands a woman before me, [ Remorse already saturates his tone, as if he's already done a great wrong. More prominent than this is the breathlessness in his tone, hushed with both care and reverence, admiration, longing. ] far more stunning and strong than any of its rays, [ His fingers linger near her ear, tracing over the upper curve. ] for the warmth and light she gives never yields to night.
[ A knuckle inadvertently knocks against her long earring, causing it to sway, and he draws his hand away. ] To you, I fall.
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Oh.
Oh.
She takes a step back, to lift both hands to her mouth. Her heart is pounding in her chest, something she hadn't realized before now, like she'd been on the edge of a quiet panic and had been waiting, waiting for him to explain himself so she could let it go. "I fall"? I fall? It's... absurd, frankly. She knows who he is. He knows who she is. Was he in denial when he said all of that nonsense at the wedding, or had it taken her lashing back for him to realize it was viable, or that he was having those feelings for her? Was he acting intentionally cruel as a way of pushing her away? Or is she being tested, somehow? She doesn't think he would be so unkind. But this is unfamiliar territory for her. No one has ever- god, no one has ever. She has no idea what to do.]
...I... [She sounds positively squeakish. Mortifying. She swallows, takes a breath, and tries again. Better-] I don't... know what to say.
[Truthful. And meant to buy her time. He's a handsome man, and he has flickers of kindness and courtesy that might tempt any woman. A gentleman, as he'd demonstrated on the walk to this place. His gift to her was... extravagant, but he apparently didn't realize that. He's sensible. But he also does not strike her as someone ready for a romantic relationship, despite apparently being thousands of years old. Or perhaps because of that. Maybe under different circumstances, with a little growth, she might-
...No. This feels very... ill-timed.]
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