[When Onni and Reynir disappear, Lalli isn't quite sure what to do about it. He panics, at first, but... So many people seem to be disappearing lately.
It's very suspicious.
So one night - or morning, depending on how you look at it, Eldibus gets a text.]
Did you do something?
It's very suspicious.
So one night - or morning, depending on how you look at it, Eldibus gets a text.]
Did you do something?
[Look, it's true that Elidibus is not the last in the list to accuse in the advent of mysterious disappearances but surely people don't know that here!
At least he recognizes the username after a brief scroll through stuff he's posted to on the network.]
I remember you. The cousin. You'll need to be more specific.
At least he recognizes the username after a brief scroll through stuff he's posted to on the network.]
I remember you. The cousin. You'll need to be more specific.
Edited 2021-01-28 02:13 (UTC)
You know, since we used mine before i'm using your inbox this time. Backdated!
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fuelingfire
2021-02-01 10:07 pm (UTC)(link)
For monsters like Lahabrea, who have yet to accept anything about their situation, least of all the instincts involved, the entire week surrounding the full moons is a trial. For someone already prone to temper and irritability, it's a long and frustrating trial at trying to rein in instinct and temper, and get as much accomplished before moonrise. He hasn't been at it quite long enough for it to become routine, but he definitely plans ahead.
Which means for a few days the doors are locked, the window closed, shades pulled, hearth fires for the most part banked, the lack of desire for anyone visiting obvious - it's at least one that the harpies respect. Food has been packed up and placed in his cage, bottles and containers of water, something to do in the ensuing few days likewise collected, and then he'd simply retreated with the most comfortable of cushions, the entirety of his small hoard, and his bomb as soon as the moonshifts set in and marked the rise of the Sisters. His robes and even his mask have been left elsewhere, for in one's home it's perfectly proper to go without, and he'd made do with a pair of modified shorts and little else. There was one blessing to the way the moons warped his body, for his hips and knees finally felt right and he could move with ease after uncomfortable jostling and realignment. Unfortunately it also came with increasing his size and the coverage of scale and feather, the small nubs of horns twisted into large arcs of dark ivory, the whites of his eyes fully occluded by the storm-gray iris, and pupils gone reddish-amethyst instead of a more proper black. He could, if he were lined up against them, outsize the largest of roegadyn at this point ... but that would likely fade once the moons' influence waned.
Usually it's a fairly monotonous couple days but with nobody around to trigger temper or violence, even in the times where awareness fades and leaves only an animal behind, not much has come of it yet, which was exactly how he liked it. Which is exactly how he liked it right now, even with the itch to leave and do ANYTHING BUT SIT THERE, carefully chipping away at a large chunk of black rock with a small variety of tools up against one side of the cage so shards don't just get everywhere. The moons demanded he do something, and he's doing something, keeping himself utterly focused on this task and not giving into the impulse to leave, to hunt, to find a rival and tear their throat out with his teeth.
There's really only one visitor he'd even tolerate at this juncture, one who may be surprised to find the worst of the staircase squeaking has been settled via vigorous application of hammer and nails; Elidibus hadn't exactly been warned of any of it but Lahabrea didn't feel warning was necessary; he already knew the Speaker trended towards unstable, that he had a cage and put it to use, and that the moons had risen. Anything more would surely be extraneous.
But it's a distracting thought that keeps making small chisels go still in his hands, stopping to listen with ears perked and attention honed for the sound of a door lock being opened, or footsteps across hardwood. Elidibus might wisely choose to not visit til the full moons have passed, and certainly Lahabrea would say that is the best decision to make.
It doesn't stop him from pausing, and listening, still and unmoving under the pale electric light to catch any whisper of a sound, of a scent that might mark the end to silence.
The borrowed clothes he'd insisted they bring with them were no solace; for all he could smell familiarity, taste familiarity, it brought with it only utter certainty that this isolation was wrong, and he should find the rest of his flight, for there was safety, there was comfort in numbers, in a fragile bond--
He knows the thought isn't really his, and so it's deliberately shoved aside, and he returns to careful chipping, the surge of blind fury that boils up carefully likewise bottled and put aside. It too would pass, eventually.
Which means for a few days the doors are locked, the window closed, shades pulled, hearth fires for the most part banked, the lack of desire for anyone visiting obvious - it's at least one that the harpies respect. Food has been packed up and placed in his cage, bottles and containers of water, something to do in the ensuing few days likewise collected, and then he'd simply retreated with the most comfortable of cushions, the entirety of his small hoard, and his bomb as soon as the moonshifts set in and marked the rise of the Sisters. His robes and even his mask have been left elsewhere, for in one's home it's perfectly proper to go without, and he'd made do with a pair of modified shorts and little else. There was one blessing to the way the moons warped his body, for his hips and knees finally felt right and he could move with ease after uncomfortable jostling and realignment. Unfortunately it also came with increasing his size and the coverage of scale and feather, the small nubs of horns twisted into large arcs of dark ivory, the whites of his eyes fully occluded by the storm-gray iris, and pupils gone reddish-amethyst instead of a more proper black. He could, if he were lined up against them, outsize the largest of roegadyn at this point ... but that would likely fade once the moons' influence waned.
Usually it's a fairly monotonous couple days but with nobody around to trigger temper or violence, even in the times where awareness fades and leaves only an animal behind, not much has come of it yet, which was exactly how he liked it. Which is exactly how he liked it right now, even with the itch to leave and do ANYTHING BUT SIT THERE, carefully chipping away at a large chunk of black rock with a small variety of tools up against one side of the cage so shards don't just get everywhere. The moons demanded he do something, and he's doing something, keeping himself utterly focused on this task and not giving into the impulse to leave, to hunt, to find a rival and tear their throat out with his teeth.
There's really only one visitor he'd even tolerate at this juncture, one who may be surprised to find the worst of the staircase squeaking has been settled via vigorous application of hammer and nails; Elidibus hadn't exactly been warned of any of it but Lahabrea didn't feel warning was necessary; he already knew the Speaker trended towards unstable, that he had a cage and put it to use, and that the moons had risen. Anything more would surely be extraneous.
But it's a distracting thought that keeps making small chisels go still in his hands, stopping to listen with ears perked and attention honed for the sound of a door lock being opened, or footsteps across hardwood. Elidibus might wisely choose to not visit til the full moons have passed, and certainly Lahabrea would say that is the best decision to make.
It doesn't stop him from pausing, and listening, still and unmoving under the pale electric light to catch any whisper of a sound, of a scent that might mark the end to silence.
The borrowed clothes he'd insisted they bring with them were no solace; for all he could smell familiarity, taste familiarity, it brought with it only utter certainty that this isolation was wrong, and he should find the rest of his flight, for there was safety, there was comfort in numbers, in a fragile bond--
He knows the thought isn't really his, and so it's deliberately shoved aside, and he returns to careful chipping, the surge of blind fury that boils up carefully likewise bottled and put aside. It too would pass, eventually.
Elidibus has spent a decent amount of his time in the intervening weeks cleaning and repairing the rooms he intends to inhabit. A good dusting and cleaning of the second-floor rooms and then a focus on what's most needed when it comes to repairing stairs, floors, walls, and ceiling. A place to sleep and a workspace. Perhaps signs that he'll eventually take over the whole second floor but... there are other matters to take care of first.
Mid-Ieneuer had seen a little less of the Emissary. On top of his normal studies of magic and combat and the world of Talam, he'd been drawn to observing the matter of the Circle and kidnappings to gain a pulse on the darker undercurrent of Aefenglom's flow. And to put more of his 'Ardbert' identity in peoples' minds perhaps. For instance, one day he'd come back with bottles of alcohol and stored them in the chest. Which was closed only after being thoroughly sure the Cherry Bomb was nowhere in attendance. His error earlier this month will not quickly be forgotten.
So the matter of whether he would be here today at the start of the full moon, had been in question. Indeed, whether the first full moon since their Bond and his arrival was a wise time to visit may have been examined carefully. But the benefits and, dare he say it 'desire', to attend had finally made the choice a simple matter. The solid thud of boots on less squeaky stairs and the scent- perhaps the Bond strengthens a touch with proximity- and it's certainly the Emissary.
Another hint is that those footsteps would have been heard going upstairs first, though, to change. What he comes down with is not robes and mask, but the sleeveless brown turtleneck, pants, and footwear. This much shouldn't be surprising if one were to consider he planned to spend considerable time in the basement. He'd brought with him a satchel too which, though mostly in containers, there are some scents of food escaping from it. Elidibus had not come empty-handed.
"I apologize. I meant to arrive before sunset but matters kept me." In all honesty, given what he's heard he's not sure how Lahabrea will look or act. So he's slow to descend and looking toward the cage even before he's fully in view. This being the best decision does not mean due caution isn't in order. "Have you kept your wits about you thus far, Lahabrea?"
Mid-Ieneuer had seen a little less of the Emissary. On top of his normal studies of magic and combat and the world of Talam, he'd been drawn to observing the matter of the Circle and kidnappings to gain a pulse on the darker undercurrent of Aefenglom's flow. And to put more of his 'Ardbert' identity in peoples' minds perhaps. For instance, one day he'd come back with bottles of alcohol and stored them in the chest. Which was closed only after being thoroughly sure the Cherry Bomb was nowhere in attendance. His error earlier this month will not quickly be forgotten.
So the matter of whether he would be here today at the start of the full moon, had been in question. Indeed, whether the first full moon since their Bond and his arrival was a wise time to visit may have been examined carefully. But the benefits and, dare he say it 'desire', to attend had finally made the choice a simple matter. The solid thud of boots on less squeaky stairs and the scent- perhaps the Bond strengthens a touch with proximity- and it's certainly the Emissary.
Another hint is that those footsteps would have been heard going upstairs first, though, to change. What he comes down with is not robes and mask, but the sleeveless brown turtleneck, pants, and footwear. This much shouldn't be surprising if one were to consider he planned to spend considerable time in the basement. He'd brought with him a satchel too which, though mostly in containers, there are some scents of food escaping from it. Elidibus had not come empty-handed.
"I apologize. I meant to arrive before sunset but matters kept me." In all honesty, given what he's heard he's not sure how Lahabrea will look or act. So he's slow to descend and looking toward the cage even before he's fully in view. This being the best decision does not mean due caution isn't in order. "Have you kept your wits about you thus far, Lahabrea?"
Thankfully this time the bomb is already down stairs and far from alluring locked chests it's not supposed to get into. It, of all creatures, doesn't seem to actually bother Lahabrea at all, be it near or far from his hoard or anything else, so it's allowed to do as it pleases. Which for the moment is staying burrowed in the longer feathers of his tail, asleep. What separated it from all other life on this forsaken world might simply be its origins - Lahabrea created it from naught but his own aether, and so in a strange sort of way, it was a part of him. It was almost sad that the little creature would be his final true creation, a legacy of grand wonder whittled down to a lone cherry bomb.
Although his hearing isn't as sharp as many turnskins, it's enough to hear the door, and then footsteps. Not a stranger, nobody who didn't know where they were going would stride from place to place without hesitation, and marginally he relaxes. There was always the possibility of someone unwelcome of course, but they'd get one nasty surprise for their efforts.
And as Elidibus comes down the stairs, albeit at a rather measured pace, he's watched through narrowed eyes. The cage hasn't been reopened, the outside lock still firmly in place, nothing's been destroyed yet, and there's a chisel in one hand. Not ... precisely the actions of a beast, but one can never be sure. "As much as ever."
Which is a complete lie, but his recollection of feral states is dim at best, and so far not an issue. Previously... previously he hadn't had the soothing outside source of magic, whether or not it came from a fledgling witch. But the steady resistance of any impulse he recognized as not naturally his certainly did him no favors. One hand rises to gesture; there's still other cushions about, outside the cage. "The bars should hold."
He sounds.. fairly normal, for all that's worth. The same dry rasp, even if it doesn't really match the undercurrent of emotion beneath it. His control for the time being, is iron.
But this time there's no immediate effort to curl in on himself or hide, he remains on his comfortable cushion without even his mask to obscure his features, the bold red and gold markings across his face almost but not quite a substitute. "What have you been doing?"
Anything is a distraction.
Although his hearing isn't as sharp as many turnskins, it's enough to hear the door, and then footsteps. Not a stranger, nobody who didn't know where they were going would stride from place to place without hesitation, and marginally he relaxes. There was always the possibility of someone unwelcome of course, but they'd get one nasty surprise for their efforts.
And as Elidibus comes down the stairs, albeit at a rather measured pace, he's watched through narrowed eyes. The cage hasn't been reopened, the outside lock still firmly in place, nothing's been destroyed yet, and there's a chisel in one hand. Not ... precisely the actions of a beast, but one can never be sure. "As much as ever."
Which is a complete lie, but his recollection of feral states is dim at best, and so far not an issue. Previously... previously he hadn't had the soothing outside source of magic, whether or not it came from a fledgling witch. But the steady resistance of any impulse he recognized as not naturally his certainly did him no favors. One hand rises to gesture; there's still other cushions about, outside the cage. "The bars should hold."
He sounds.. fairly normal, for all that's worth. The same dry rasp, even if it doesn't really match the undercurrent of emotion beneath it. His control for the time being, is iron.
But this time there's no immediate effort to curl in on himself or hide, he remains on his comfortable cushion without even his mask to obscure his features, the bold red and gold markings across his face almost but not quite a substitute. "What have you been doing?"
Anything is a distraction.
'As much as ever', is it? Elidibus does wonder if that's any more true than 'the bear trap injury is just fine, I don't feel any pain'. But mostly, the Emissary had a different impression of what a feral state during the full moon would be. Certainly not a grumpy as ever Lahabrea.
For now, Elidibus chooses to take the proffered cushions. The satchel is placed on a low table beside his chosen seating. This will all be dragged relatively close to the cage, though respect for the dragon's reach through those bars is given, for the time being. Out of the satchel comes two packets of cookies. Ginger snap of course; he's become quite interested in them.
"I brought these," the Emissary offers, as a subtle indication that he desires to approach and pass the packet through to Lahabrea. And, as he has noticed the chisel in hand and the project it's being used for- it being rather difficult to miss- he adds, "Am I to presume your full moon condition affords the clarity for such delicate craft with the dragon brimming so close to the surface?" Perfectly mild. Utterly dry. Yes, this is Elidibus and he is calling you on your lie, Lahabrea.
As for what Elidibus has been doing? "Patrols. A watch for those manipulated and those being kidnapped in the city by the Evergreen Circle." He doesn't have to pretend the fervent dedication to doing good deeds characteristics of Warriors of Light here so he doesn't. But the Ascian does explain further. By this time there's been enough time for Lahabrea to accept the packet or refuse it, so Elidibus is settled on his chosen cushion and one cookie into his own.
"My observations have been insightful, albeit more difficult than I'm accustomed." For one thing, people can easily see him and he can't use magic or natural ability to scry matters from afar. "Aside from that matter, I have been visiting the archives of the Coven and researching this world." Elidibus's mouth twitches in a sign of annoyance. "The approach of the full moon seems to have weakened my grasp on the magick of this world." Which was already comparatively non-existent. "There never seems to be enough aether. I will have to plan for this in the coming moon."
For now, Elidibus chooses to take the proffered cushions. The satchel is placed on a low table beside his chosen seating. This will all be dragged relatively close to the cage, though respect for the dragon's reach through those bars is given, for the time being. Out of the satchel comes two packets of cookies. Ginger snap of course; he's become quite interested in them.
"I brought these," the Emissary offers, as a subtle indication that he desires to approach and pass the packet through to Lahabrea. And, as he has noticed the chisel in hand and the project it's being used for- it being rather difficult to miss- he adds, "Am I to presume your full moon condition affords the clarity for such delicate craft with the dragon brimming so close to the surface?" Perfectly mild. Utterly dry. Yes, this is Elidibus and he is calling you on your lie, Lahabrea.
As for what Elidibus has been doing? "Patrols. A watch for those manipulated and those being kidnapped in the city by the Evergreen Circle." He doesn't have to pretend the fervent dedication to doing good deeds characteristics of Warriors of Light here so he doesn't. But the Ascian does explain further. By this time there's been enough time for Lahabrea to accept the packet or refuse it, so Elidibus is settled on his chosen cushion and one cookie into his own.
"My observations have been insightful, albeit more difficult than I'm accustomed." For one thing, people can easily see him and he can't use magic or natural ability to scry matters from afar. "Aside from that matter, I have been visiting the archives of the Coven and researching this world." Elidibus's mouth twitches in a sign of annoyance. "The approach of the full moon seems to have weakened my grasp on the magick of this world." Which was already comparatively non-existent. "There never seems to be enough aether. I will have to plan for this in the coming moon."
There's already been a misstep in the presence of carefully maintained control, by the loud, rumbling growl that rises, a sound that seems to shake the air and very bones with its angry threat. "Those who know nothing should say nothing." The words are ground out one at a time between clenched sharp teeth, the urge to rise and put Elidibus in his place beneath his claws for the moment struggled down into little more than a slow, irritated thud of tail against the floor and ruffled feathers. "Ignorant wretch, has wearing a mortal shell been so corruptive that every thought of logic or reason has leaked out of your head? If this is what merely wearing flesh does to you in such a short span of time, mayhap we should rid you of it and such blinding stupidity with it."
Every word is a rebuke, etched with promise and surety, the gift of treats shunned with little more than a disregarding glare. He can at least still speak, even if it's with the tenuously controlled fury of an offended dragon. "I expect better of you." The chisel is gestured with, a sharp and jagged angry motion. "When one struggles with distracted thoughts, one finds something with which to focus those thoughts. It is not the end result which is of primary concern, or even tertiary concern! But if you dare question my clarity, pray let me put such delicate work aside so I may turn my attention to peeling you out of your sneering hide instead." How much is Lahabrea's unpredictable temperament and how much is the boiling instability of the full moons is at serious question, and he himself is not being forthcoming with any distinction. Attempting to call him out on anything that smelled like a lie might be unwise for the next few days.
His glare lingers for a long, long silent moment, as if outright daring Elidibus to question it further before very deliberately turning back to the work he's given himself, carefully chipping away at the dark stone bit by bit. Their bond, it seems, doesn't spare Elidibus at all from Lahabrea's ire, though that it is for the time only ire and not sudden explosive violence hearkens either to fragile control or some measure of protection.
It's likely for the best that their bond is still fairly muted, at least in comparison of those many who take such things much further and share dreams in the night, else the seething storm of unwelcome emotion might well be extremely unpleasant for the Emissary to deal with on two separate levels. He should be ashamed of the careful waltz around his temper that others must take or risk undeserved or exaggerated retaliation, but he doesn't care. Did he ever care?
The matters of the world and what Elidibus has been up to is not the distraction he'd hoped it'd be, though that might be his own lingering fury and not a lack of interesting or relevant topics to pursue. The lack of aether with which to draw on for a fledgling witch should be alarming, but most new witches also didn't bond with a monster right away, and monsters absolutely were a steady draw on power. Power that should by rights be constantly at the witch's fingertips and eager to be used at all opportunities, negating the risk of early build-up and possible magical explosion. If Lahabrea himself is the reason why there's not enough aether to manipulate.. "In two weeks such a difficulty will reverse itself. How did you attend the last new moon?"
Every word is a rebuke, etched with promise and surety, the gift of treats shunned with little more than a disregarding glare. He can at least still speak, even if it's with the tenuously controlled fury of an offended dragon. "I expect better of you." The chisel is gestured with, a sharp and jagged angry motion. "When one struggles with distracted thoughts, one finds something with which to focus those thoughts. It is not the end result which is of primary concern, or even tertiary concern! But if you dare question my clarity, pray let me put such delicate work aside so I may turn my attention to peeling you out of your sneering hide instead." How much is Lahabrea's unpredictable temperament and how much is the boiling instability of the full moons is at serious question, and he himself is not being forthcoming with any distinction. Attempting to call him out on anything that smelled like a lie might be unwise for the next few days.
His glare lingers for a long, long silent moment, as if outright daring Elidibus to question it further before very deliberately turning back to the work he's given himself, carefully chipping away at the dark stone bit by bit. Their bond, it seems, doesn't spare Elidibus at all from Lahabrea's ire, though that it is for the time only ire and not sudden explosive violence hearkens either to fragile control or some measure of protection.
It's likely for the best that their bond is still fairly muted, at least in comparison of those many who take such things much further and share dreams in the night, else the seething storm of unwelcome emotion might well be extremely unpleasant for the Emissary to deal with on two separate levels. He should be ashamed of the careful waltz around his temper that others must take or risk undeserved or exaggerated retaliation, but he doesn't care. Did he ever care?
The matters of the world and what Elidibus has been up to is not the distraction he'd hoped it'd be, though that might be his own lingering fury and not a lack of interesting or relevant topics to pursue. The lack of aether with which to draw on for a fledgling witch should be alarming, but most new witches also didn't bond with a monster right away, and monsters absolutely were a steady draw on power. Power that should by rights be constantly at the witch's fingertips and eager to be used at all opportunities, negating the risk of early build-up and possible magical explosion. If Lahabrea himself is the reason why there's not enough aether to manipulate.. "In two weeks such a difficulty will reverse itself. How did you attend the last new moon?"
The response Elidibus is given is eye-opening in more ways than one. He immediately straightens up and makes sure his hand is out of cage reach; though a question of whether the bars will hold or should hold remains unanswered. And moot besides. Clearly, Lahabrea is more than capable right now of unlocking the cage entirely and making good the suggestions he is giving.
Back to the eye-opening matter. First, Lahabrea is certainly not 'feral'. But Elidibus would be hard-pressed to think the Speaker would have, back on their worlds, turned such ireful words on his fellow Ascians. But there, Elidibus himself would not have given reason to.
It is hard to say if he felt any true emotion. Without a mask, it was easy to see realization and thoughtful reflection. But fear, surprise, and apology are... lacking in the usual set of Elidibus's expression when he no longer needs to offer pretense.
"I misjudged the conditions presented by the full moon's sway," the Emissary admits. "I would be interested to hear how you've spent them in the past. How they may differ or not to this moment." Just as Elidibus himself is being asked of his activities during the moon most likely to influence him. But first, "I may be finding it difficult to fully shake the influences of regularly interacting with mortals." Not so much that he's becoming mortal, but that he finds it hard to transition between the act- as he becomes more accustomed to the routine of mortality- and reality. "Is it this world and this prison of a body? Or is it my relative lack of recent experience with a host?" The thoughtful rhetoric is shrugged away. "No doubt it is just as well I will be moving into the rooms here within the week." Provided of course Lahabrea spares him the divestment of his physical form.
Now there's the last new moon. "I took advantage of the small rise in power to practice control." Truthfully Elidibus was fortunate that his first new moon, one that was unusually strong at that, was within two weeks of his arrival. Next month will be... interesting as the world brings him more under its sway. "Enchantment seemed to come with particular ease. For the most part, I sought to blend the magick here with the techniques of a warrior." Elidibus takes the time to crunch another cookie. "There was... some success. In time, it should be perfectly viable." He ended up holding a combo chain for a full round even.
Once. But it was a start.
Back to the eye-opening matter. First, Lahabrea is certainly not 'feral'. But Elidibus would be hard-pressed to think the Speaker would have, back on their worlds, turned such ireful words on his fellow Ascians. But there, Elidibus himself would not have given reason to.
It is hard to say if he felt any true emotion. Without a mask, it was easy to see realization and thoughtful reflection. But fear, surprise, and apology are... lacking in the usual set of Elidibus's expression when he no longer needs to offer pretense.
"I misjudged the conditions presented by the full moon's sway," the Emissary admits. "I would be interested to hear how you've spent them in the past. How they may differ or not to this moment." Just as Elidibus himself is being asked of his activities during the moon most likely to influence him. But first, "I may be finding it difficult to fully shake the influences of regularly interacting with mortals." Not so much that he's becoming mortal, but that he finds it hard to transition between the act- as he becomes more accustomed to the routine of mortality- and reality. "Is it this world and this prison of a body? Or is it my relative lack of recent experience with a host?" The thoughtful rhetoric is shrugged away. "No doubt it is just as well I will be moving into the rooms here within the week." Provided of course Lahabrea spares him the divestment of his physical form.
Now there's the last new moon. "I took advantage of the small rise in power to practice control." Truthfully Elidibus was fortunate that his first new moon, one that was unusually strong at that, was within two weeks of his arrival. Next month will be... interesting as the world brings him more under its sway. "Enchantment seemed to come with particular ease. For the most part, I sought to blend the magick here with the techniques of a warrior." Elidibus takes the time to crunch another cookie. "There was... some success. In time, it should be perfectly viable." He ended up holding a combo chain for a full round even.
Once. But it was a start.
The bars are only steel and wrought iron, and could certainly hold, say, an angry bear or lion. But a dragon? One day it would do absolutely nothing to either contain or slow him down, but the entirety of that fearsome strength the breed is vaunted for had yet to manifest and given the couple-weeks past revelation of his elemental alignment, the best it might do is working as a Faraday cage. But there's been no lightning yet, and it might well still be beyond him.
"You have misjudged much," is the rumbled response, more little flakes of obsidian falling away. Whatever he's making, it's a fairly rounded shape but far too early in its work to be judged as any real shape at all. But he does have something in mind, something that, if it were to break or he couldn't complete it he could simply start again later .. but it keeps his hands occupied. Or at least, somewhat so, and some level of preoccupation to keep from slipping with the small chisel and thus crack the whole thing. Lahabrea brushes off the question in turn - right now he's simply not interested in discussing it, it wasn't the right kind of distraction and would only refocus his attention on the turmoil he currently endured.
Easier, someone else's problems. And with no filters at all on thought or word, and an undue influence towards paranoia and aggression.. any topic at all might not exactly fare well. "A lack of experience." There's a brief flick of one ear, a flicker of disdain flashing up. "That body is no different than others, and the pressures of Aefenglom rather lessened than what would be in the Source." Although people could always hear and see them, they also didn't have quite as much to hide. No clandestine meetings, no disappearing into thin air without warning, no sense of that umbral presence that marked Ascians to those of alert senses. No delicate games of politic and manipulation to turn entire nations towards a desired goal, that were they discovered would unravel much.
Easier, in that respect.
Harder in others, for the price it carried.
There were surely some in this world who would look at trying to maintain any such warrior-ish skill with amusement and disdain, but sooner or later they're going to get an axe to the face and learn an important lesson. But it's an easier topic, one that doesn't come with inherent fury and antagonism. "Is that so. What enchantments are you dabbling with?" It can only be a dabble at this point, as plans are made and tested. It's much too early to have come to any permanent decisions.
Some elemental enchantments might be wise, eventually, to abuse all the weaknesses his kind and others seem to possess.
"You have misjudged much," is the rumbled response, more little flakes of obsidian falling away. Whatever he's making, it's a fairly rounded shape but far too early in its work to be judged as any real shape at all. But he does have something in mind, something that, if it were to break or he couldn't complete it he could simply start again later .. but it keeps his hands occupied. Or at least, somewhat so, and some level of preoccupation to keep from slipping with the small chisel and thus crack the whole thing. Lahabrea brushes off the question in turn - right now he's simply not interested in discussing it, it wasn't the right kind of distraction and would only refocus his attention on the turmoil he currently endured.
Easier, someone else's problems. And with no filters at all on thought or word, and an undue influence towards paranoia and aggression.. any topic at all might not exactly fare well. "A lack of experience." There's a brief flick of one ear, a flicker of disdain flashing up. "That body is no different than others, and the pressures of Aefenglom rather lessened than what would be in the Source." Although people could always hear and see them, they also didn't have quite as much to hide. No clandestine meetings, no disappearing into thin air without warning, no sense of that umbral presence that marked Ascians to those of alert senses. No delicate games of politic and manipulation to turn entire nations towards a desired goal, that were they discovered would unravel much.
Easier, in that respect.
Harder in others, for the price it carried.
There were surely some in this world who would look at trying to maintain any such warrior-ish skill with amusement and disdain, but sooner or later they're going to get an axe to the face and learn an important lesson. But it's an easier topic, one that doesn't come with inherent fury and antagonism. "Is that so. What enchantments are you dabbling with?" It can only be a dabble at this point, as plans are made and tested. It's much too early to have come to any permanent decisions.
Some elemental enchantments might be wise, eventually, to abuse all the weaknesses his kind and others seem to possess.
In a way, it's appealing to think the world isn't having an undue influence on him. Not in the same way it afflicts Lahabrea anyway and so there might be a slight lessening of tension in Elidibus as the Speaker offers his opinion on the matter. It's true in the first few days he kept up with as best an Ardbert impression as he could, even with those not from the Source. But oft times recently Elidibus has found himself settling into a blend of the two identities and thus, finding easier portrayal.
It would never fool Ardbert's companions. But he didn't expect it to even when he was trying his utmost. Irhya... well, that's for debate. It was just long enough for him to settle into Aefenglom anyway. Another reason why it's better to leave Tataru's generous company, in case the Warrior of Light decides to spill the beans to the lalafell.
Lack of any insight into the experience of full moons is not pursued, but likely will be at a later date. A bottle full of water is pulled out. Still cold and crisp from the winter travel, but the supply is likely to warm up soon enough in the basement. Before responding, Elidibus cracks it open and takes a drink. "For the experiment last new moon, physical enhancement. A sharper cut, a stronger blow." The Emissary flicks his fingers dismissively. Of course it wasn't meant to be just that. He was working on the basics of control then. Foundation.
"I am focusing upon the elements of earth, ice, and fire for now. I have been exploring some efforts in manifesting Light but to no avail." Such experiments, even if their end result will be in vain, will likely have to wait until he has more of a mastery over his magic in general. "Nor does Darkness come to my beck." Elidibus, one of the few Ascians who would talk about Light with equal measure to Darkness. That's what happens when you are the very being the whole concept of the Warrior of Light was born from.
I can invoke wind, lightning, and water," Elidibus won't mention how little the evocation it was. But it was enough to show the elements were there to be practiced. "But I decided to narrow my attentions to half the amount until I'm assured of its functional use." Sure, he might have to narrow further and build that way but... Ascian ego. It's a thing.
Misjudgment. Errors. Elidibus seems to be making a lot of those lately. Perhaps this is why he quietly mentions aloud, after a sigh. "This star. Somehow I feel rushed." The eyes open again and he looks at the cookie between his fingers. "...Almost desperate, in a way I have no recollection of experiencing."
Even the scramble to save the Thirteenth did not immediately invoke a memory of the feelings he might have felt then. Not even the moments he had more recently experienced, in personally taking the stage... and near the moment of his transfer as the Warrior of Light-turned-Darkness approached the warded Crystal Tower to confront him. The latter had been... inevitability.
It would never fool Ardbert's companions. But he didn't expect it to even when he was trying his utmost. Irhya... well, that's for debate. It was just long enough for him to settle into Aefenglom anyway. Another reason why it's better to leave Tataru's generous company, in case the Warrior of Light decides to spill the beans to the lalafell.
Lack of any insight into the experience of full moons is not pursued, but likely will be at a later date. A bottle full of water is pulled out. Still cold and crisp from the winter travel, but the supply is likely to warm up soon enough in the basement. Before responding, Elidibus cracks it open and takes a drink. "For the experiment last new moon, physical enhancement. A sharper cut, a stronger blow." The Emissary flicks his fingers dismissively. Of course it wasn't meant to be just that. He was working on the basics of control then. Foundation.
"I am focusing upon the elements of earth, ice, and fire for now. I have been exploring some efforts in manifesting Light but to no avail." Such experiments, even if their end result will be in vain, will likely have to wait until he has more of a mastery over his magic in general. "Nor does Darkness come to my beck." Elidibus, one of the few Ascians who would talk about Light with equal measure to Darkness. That's what happens when you are the very being the whole concept of the Warrior of Light was born from.
I can invoke wind, lightning, and water," Elidibus won't mention how little the evocation it was. But it was enough to show the elements were there to be practiced. "But I decided to narrow my attentions to half the amount until I'm assured of its functional use." Sure, he might have to narrow further and build that way but... Ascian ego. It's a thing.
Misjudgment. Errors. Elidibus seems to be making a lot of those lately. Perhaps this is why he quietly mentions aloud, after a sigh. "This star. Somehow I feel rushed." The eyes open again and he looks at the cookie between his fingers. "...Almost desperate, in a way I have no recollection of experiencing."
Even the scramble to save the Thirteenth did not immediately invoke a memory of the feelings he might have felt then. Not even the moments he had more recently experienced, in personally taking the stage... and near the moment of his transfer as the Warrior of Light-turned-Darkness approached the warded Crystal Tower to confront him. The latter had been... inevitability.
"Nor will there be. Emet-Selch has spoken thus on Light and Dark, and other mages. This star recognizes not the astral and umbral." Which frankly is really strange, like discovering a world simply doesn't have air; how did any of it function at all? How do they enhance their spellcraft, or mute the raw power of a magic in favor of detailed finesse? Light has its place - not generally in Lahabrea's work, but a place, and it doesn't surprise him that Elidibus might be toying with conjuring up that power. It was required for cure spells, was it not?
There's a point where as Elidibus speaks the words slowly become meaningless, a distortion of noise and inflection with no connection to an idea or object or thought, and with it a strange sensation in their bond, not unlike reaching for the next step down a flight of stairs and finding no step at all but a sudden forward lurch into emptiness.
Some distant, tenuously felt force of wrath rises, like fog on a lake. He closes his eyes, hands still on the chunk of stone.
The disconcerting weightless feeling ends as suddenly as it began, and as if there had been nothing at all, he resumes chipping, the sounds resolving into words about feeling rushed. "I wonder why." Nothing comes to mind for what might cause a feeling of being harried. "We .. you do have forever. All will see to its place, in time. Mastery of this star, of its crippled skills. How long has it been since any of us have walked under an unfamiliar sky, with unknown rules and demands?"
There's a point where as Elidibus speaks the words slowly become meaningless, a distortion of noise and inflection with no connection to an idea or object or thought, and with it a strange sensation in their bond, not unlike reaching for the next step down a flight of stairs and finding no step at all but a sudden forward lurch into emptiness.
Some distant, tenuously felt force of wrath rises, like fog on a lake. He closes his eyes, hands still on the chunk of stone.
The disconcerting weightless feeling ends as suddenly as it began, and as if there had been nothing at all, he resumes chipping, the sounds resolving into words about feeling rushed. "I wonder why." Nothing comes to mind for what might cause a feeling of being harried. "We .. you do have forever. All will see to its place, in time. Mastery of this star, of its crippled skills. How long has it been since any of us have walked under an unfamiliar sky, with unknown rules and demands?"
"...I should speak to Emet-Selch as well." This isn't a slight toward Lahabrea. In fact, he continues to address the Speaker, eyes open, and keenly invested in what was just said. Yes, to think the Umbral and Astral is simply not present... "I can't see how a world whose peoples are so affected by the waning and waxing of the moons is utterly void of either. To the point wherein the polarities are reversed in Witches native and Mirrorbound." It may not be stable and that certainly troubles him. A world out of balance in Light or Dark is a very dangerous world to be part of or trapped on. But trust the Emissary to be concerned about this, as it was his job to be.
"The lack of potency in restorative spells would certainly suggest--" What Elidibus was about to say is suddenly cut off by lurching vertigo which strikes through the Bond. He has some familiarity with nausea, thanks to a certain recent bout of drinks he has no intention of bringing up... ever. This wasn't quite the same, but it is enough to thoroughly snap the Emissary temporarily out of any conversation he was about to have on the subject of the rushed feeling.
He wouldn't have been able to give much of an answer anyway, toward the notion of how long it had been.
Elidibus falls quiet as matters stabilize and Lahabrea continues only the slightest sense that something had occurred. There is something not... right in the manner in which the Speaker forcibly controls the wrath. Back home, it might have been commendable. Here, less so. Yet by that same wrath and emotion, broaching the topic is likewise a hazardous endeavor. As has been amply demonstrated.
Elidibus rises and finally touches on the second subject without really finishing the first. "It may be the inexperience of living at a mortal's pace has invoked an impetus to meet their speed." All the more reason to be glad he'll have the luxury of a house with only a fellow Ascian to rest his body in. Slow down, study it all. But to not leave the matter of Lahabrea's transformation behind...
Ah. Perhaps that is it.
"Will you permit me to come closer, Lahabrea?" Elidibus may not know where, but he doesn't doubt the dragon, aside from the matters of precaution, has hidden his horde somewhere in that cage. His hands are empty but one is held up, indicating an offer of contact. It.... has become a little easier to make such gestures, in the past couple of weeks.
"The lack of potency in restorative spells would certainly suggest--" What Elidibus was about to say is suddenly cut off by lurching vertigo which strikes through the Bond. He has some familiarity with nausea, thanks to a certain recent bout of drinks he has no intention of bringing up... ever. This wasn't quite the same, but it is enough to thoroughly snap the Emissary temporarily out of any conversation he was about to have on the subject of the rushed feeling.
He wouldn't have been able to give much of an answer anyway, toward the notion of how long it had been.
Elidibus falls quiet as matters stabilize and Lahabrea continues only the slightest sense that something had occurred. There is something not... right in the manner in which the Speaker forcibly controls the wrath. Back home, it might have been commendable. Here, less so. Yet by that same wrath and emotion, broaching the topic is likewise a hazardous endeavor. As has been amply demonstrated.
Elidibus rises and finally touches on the second subject without really finishing the first. "It may be the inexperience of living at a mortal's pace has invoked an impetus to meet their speed." All the more reason to be glad he'll have the luxury of a house with only a fellow Ascian to rest his body in. Slow down, study it all. But to not leave the matter of Lahabrea's transformation behind...
Ah. Perhaps that is it.
"Will you permit me to come closer, Lahabrea?" Elidibus may not know where, but he doesn't doubt the dragon, aside from the matters of precaution, has hidden his horde somewhere in that cage. His hands are empty but one is held up, indicating an offer of contact. It.... has become a little easier to make such gestures, in the past couple of weeks.
Necessity controls all the changed in this world. It's been a battle he's been fighting since shortly after arriving, and determinedly won for the most part til now, but instincts stymied, urges ignored, acceptance .. even the barest shades of acceptance utterly scorned tended to lead to terrible, uncontrolled rage. Eventually. He still had that control, and that was enough for him. The bars would surely hold, had to hold, because every week the fight grew harder and harder to win. Sometimes, he was vaguely sure, he didn't actually succeed, but those long days and nights in his own home, in his 'territory', with food and drink and hoard on hand, left little impetus for the beast to wander.
And when clearheaded.. or as much as possible, less reason yet to leave.
But this is the first time he's had anyone else there too, disrupting the flow, changing the sense of the night. Was it still enough to convince the creature he was becoming that it was safe, and home, and a secure territory that doesn't need constant defending?
"The illusion of time running out." Claws tap briefly against the obsidian, like marking out seconds. His tone hasn't risen back to that earlier sound of outrage, muted in the quiet of the basement. "The frail sense of false mortality: the past tempting us, the present daunting us; the future, a frightening inevitability. And our days slip away, moment by moment, lost in that vast, terrible in-between. Yet we have been given eternity for which to unravel that catalyst of fear and forge from it a glorious wonder."
How long did he have? Not an eternity. Not anymore. But he can be maudlin with his words, in the time that he had words to use. Elidibus is glanced up at as he rises, the question that follows not drawing an immediate response. The bars were there for the protection of others, the lock simple to manage but there too as a reminder of what must be.
"On these, of all nights?" He shakes his head slightly, the weight of changed horns an unfamiliar ache. "Foolish to ask. It would be unwise. I can guarantee no safety and care not to deal with what might follow should the days pass and I find blood staining my claws."
And when clearheaded.. or as much as possible, less reason yet to leave.
But this is the first time he's had anyone else there too, disrupting the flow, changing the sense of the night. Was it still enough to convince the creature he was becoming that it was safe, and home, and a secure territory that doesn't need constant defending?
"The illusion of time running out." Claws tap briefly against the obsidian, like marking out seconds. His tone hasn't risen back to that earlier sound of outrage, muted in the quiet of the basement. "The frail sense of false mortality: the past tempting us, the present daunting us; the future, a frightening inevitability. And our days slip away, moment by moment, lost in that vast, terrible in-between. Yet we have been given eternity for which to unravel that catalyst of fear and forge from it a glorious wonder."
How long did he have? Not an eternity. Not anymore. But he can be maudlin with his words, in the time that he had words to use. Elidibus is glanced up at as he rises, the question that follows not drawing an immediate response. The bars were there for the protection of others, the lock simple to manage but there too as a reminder of what must be.
"On these, of all nights?" He shakes his head slightly, the weight of changed horns an unfamiliar ache. "Foolish to ask. It would be unwise. I can guarantee no safety and care not to deal with what might follow should the days pass and I find blood staining my claws."
A moment of eloquence from Lahabrea. It sparks a memory of the Speaker and another, one of the few Elidibus has remaining even in part. And though the eloquent suggestion that they turn from work and enjoy a bright day for a time had not been uttered by Lahabrea, the words the Ascian now did speak cause Emissary to remember the moment.
Gently, as if trying not to speak too loudly lest the echo causes a fragile crystal to shatter, Elidibus does offer, "We spoke a little before of the future, as I tended your injury." Of what Lahabrea is becoming. Of the future. Of... Zodiark's love. Naturally, he will not elaborate here. "What help may I give you now, to accept future you can forge past this daunting present?"
Time is relative. Even Ascians would know that to some extent, having traveled to different worlds and find that minutes, years, and days pass so quickly to another's moment. Lahabrea may have mere centuries in his body, but it is a far cry better to Elidibus of right now than to return to somewhere his fellow Unsundered were already gone. He can save the Lahabrea in front of him now, even if they must work within the confines of their current prison's rules to do it.
"I know it would be unwise. Yet I would approach nonetheless," Elidibus answers. He does not start forward but waits, patient and respectful of Lahabrea's stance on the matter. For a moment, his gaze shifts away in a moment of thought. But they are back upon the Speaker before he continues.
"I felt through our Bond a sensation not entirely unlike tilting ...off a cliff and falling." It's admittedly a struggle to find proper words for this. A matter of vertigo is rarely an issue for an Ascian. And for Elidibus almost nonexistent. But oddly distressing. A bit of this shows on features usually devoid of general emotion. His voice remains collected as ever. But perhaps the desire to help is instead stressed by the actual words Elidibus uses. "Blood may stain your claws. But for what is this Bond, except to even risk injury so that I might catch you when you fall?"
Gently, as if trying not to speak too loudly lest the echo causes a fragile crystal to shatter, Elidibus does offer, "We spoke a little before of the future, as I tended your injury." Of what Lahabrea is becoming. Of the future. Of... Zodiark's love. Naturally, he will not elaborate here. "What help may I give you now, to accept future you can forge past this daunting present?"
Time is relative. Even Ascians would know that to some extent, having traveled to different worlds and find that minutes, years, and days pass so quickly to another's moment. Lahabrea may have mere centuries in his body, but it is a far cry better to Elidibus of right now than to return to somewhere his fellow Unsundered were already gone. He can save the Lahabrea in front of him now, even if they must work within the confines of their current prison's rules to do it.
"I know it would be unwise. Yet I would approach nonetheless," Elidibus answers. He does not start forward but waits, patient and respectful of Lahabrea's stance on the matter. For a moment, his gaze shifts away in a moment of thought. But they are back upon the Speaker before he continues.
"I felt through our Bond a sensation not entirely unlike tilting ...off a cliff and falling." It's admittedly a struggle to find proper words for this. A matter of vertigo is rarely an issue for an Ascian. And for Elidibus almost nonexistent. But oddly distressing. A bit of this shows on features usually devoid of general emotion. His voice remains collected as ever. But perhaps the desire to help is instead stressed by the actual words Elidibus uses. "Blood may stain your claws. But for what is this Bond, except to even risk injury so that I might catch you when you fall?"
An injury that still ached, some many days later, and would for some time yet. The stitches, still needed, pulled and itched beneath their protective cover of scale and feather. A little longer, a delay in that meeting and maybe he would have gotten out of it unscathed. The reminder of it draws a slight twitch, as if there's an urge to reach and scratch, or tug beneath scale at the stitches or stretch and see if it still hurts. It would, of course.
But none of it he responds to immediately. He understands deeply and intrinsically the risk that Elidibus doesn't seem to. Silenced for so long, should the leash slip, the beast would not be easily corralled and would lash out in fury at anything on hand. Anyone, for that matter.
Once, the idea of any of this being a concern would be laughable. Not even worth entertaining in the worst of nightmare scenarios.
But the rains have not ceased for a very long time.
"Tis best to not fall off the cliff." It's an almost absent, distracted response, the rest of his thoughts elsewhere. Elidibus might not care if he bled for his efforts, Lahabrea very much did. "A beast waits at the bottom, hungry and furious. I don't think it would care much if that biscuit were its meal, or you." No difference, to an animal. Food was food, threats were threats, and the best way to handle both was violence.
He straightens a touch then, a frown fixed on his features, ears pinned back against his hair. "You will not catch me if I fall. You do not understand this. I will never hear you, but another creature will." His control is iron. "You will find in your hands a beast that snarls, and growls, and strains toward freedom every moment waking or sleeping.. and as hard as I try, I cannot kill it. You may be willing to risk blood on the floor yet again. I am not."
But none of it he responds to immediately. He understands deeply and intrinsically the risk that Elidibus doesn't seem to. Silenced for so long, should the leash slip, the beast would not be easily corralled and would lash out in fury at anything on hand. Anyone, for that matter.
Once, the idea of any of this being a concern would be laughable. Not even worth entertaining in the worst of nightmare scenarios.
But the rains have not ceased for a very long time.
"Tis best to not fall off the cliff." It's an almost absent, distracted response, the rest of his thoughts elsewhere. Elidibus might not care if he bled for his efforts, Lahabrea very much did. "A beast waits at the bottom, hungry and furious. I don't think it would care much if that biscuit were its meal, or you." No difference, to an animal. Food was food, threats were threats, and the best way to handle both was violence.
He straightens a touch then, a frown fixed on his features, ears pinned back against his hair. "You will not catch me if I fall. You do not understand this. I will never hear you, but another creature will." His control is iron. "You will find in your hands a beast that snarls, and growls, and strains toward freedom every moment waking or sleeping.. and as hard as I try, I cannot kill it. You may be willing to risk blood on the floor yet again. I am not."
[Some days later...
Here goes nothing.]
Hey, I finished one of the saddles. The other one's still a work in progress, but I'd love to show you what I have so far when you have time.
Here goes nothing.]
Hey, I finished one of the saddles. The other one's still a work in progress, but I'd love to show you what I have so far when you have time.
"Before. I meant before you fall," Elidibus corrects himself. Should Lahabrea start to fall, he wants to catch him before he's out of reach. "But of course I do not fully understand. I have read many books. I have spoken to others of these changes. But none of them would know it as you do now." As an Ascian becoming a 'beast'. Nor would any of them have an inkling of comprehending the horror of it to Lahabrea.
Except perhaps another Unsundered. Elidibus truly wishes to know more, but also to be someone to whom Lahabrea can speak more than the fragment he just professed.
"At the end of the day, should the feral side manifest Lahabrea, no steel will hold a dragon's rage. And the bars are too far apart for your smallest form. Where I stand in this room will make no difference." So in a way, he should not have come in at all. Yet, Elidibus had, knowing how fragile the illusion of the cage and security was.
Elidibus shows no sign of mockery. Steadfast, he picks up his satchel. But... not to leave.
"I desire to remain if you would allow. And given the conditions, perhaps it would be best to spend the time practicing the best means of physical contact. Would you please secure your hoard and make room for me?" He will, of course, turn around should Lahabrea give in to the idea that Elidibus means to stay. Naturally, he'll be bringing his food and drink and probably books along.
Except perhaps another Unsundered. Elidibus truly wishes to know more, but also to be someone to whom Lahabrea can speak more than the fragment he just professed.
"At the end of the day, should the feral side manifest Lahabrea, no steel will hold a dragon's rage. And the bars are too far apart for your smallest form. Where I stand in this room will make no difference." So in a way, he should not have come in at all. Yet, Elidibus had, knowing how fragile the illusion of the cage and security was.
Elidibus shows no sign of mockery. Steadfast, he picks up his satchel. But... not to leave.
"I desire to remain if you would allow. And given the conditions, perhaps it would be best to spend the time practicing the best means of physical contact. Would you please secure your hoard and make room for me?" He will, of course, turn around should Lahabrea give in to the idea that Elidibus means to stay. Naturally, he'll be bringing his food and drink and probably books along.
[A response is sent in a reasonable amount of time.]
I'd be interested to see which one was finished first.
[One might even take that for humor!]
I suppose I should bring Filia. To your home then?
[He knows where you live.]
I'd be interested to see which one was finished first.
[One might even take that for humor!]
I suppose I should bring Filia. To your home then?
[He knows where you live.]
"I have not access to either the vaunted strength nor the shape change that others may possess." Puncturing that illusion of safety, that the bars could and would hold, is going to have consequences down the line. An animal certain it can't escape will rarely try to, learned helplessness preventing most attempts ... but that seed's been planted. All it takes is a whisper of doubt, after all the work he'd put in to securing at least one location against the inevitable.
There were no other Unsundered that might be dragged into this world unless it grew so cruel as to seize Amaurotines directly and inflict this hell upon them ... and that might well be worse than what's been done to him. He's had at least a few eons to adapt to unwelcome changes in environment or the attitudes of others.. but learning that adaption had come at a terrible price they'd all paid. Some poor soul snatched off the streets of the Black City would have no such familiarity, or explanation at all. Only the sudden horror like unto the End Times, though less contagious in its terror.
It's for the best, really. He wouldn't wish this fate on others of his kind.
This stubborn persistence was going to get Elidibus killed. He's certain of that too, whether by accident or design.
But wasn't contact supposed to help? Would it do anything about the warping of language into nonsense, the wavering sense of self and time, the boiling fury that never quite went away? None of it was as all-consuming as it had been the month before, but it felt like a near thing.
"If I tell you to leave, you will leave. No questions, no arguments. I will not have Ascian blood on my hands again." There's always a price, it seems, in trying to negotiate for anything with Lahabrea. This one might be rather less personally demanding than the last, of memory and effort into maintaining it!
But where is that little stash of jewels and precious metals? His gaze shifts to the side, weighing how safe it is. The cage is spacious, forged for something considerably larger than he was now, a cell more properly than merely a holding place for a beast in its tenuous comforts. But here indeed were the best of cushions, the softest blankets, the nicest area rug. His books, a magicked lamp. It might be better appointed than the sleeping space he usually utilized, but for the long stark shadows the bars throw. "And stay astray of the books." Which must thus be where he's also keeping his precious things, presumably the box they're stacked upon.
What a terrible temptation, putting all the reading material where murder would result if approached.
There were no other Unsundered that might be dragged into this world unless it grew so cruel as to seize Amaurotines directly and inflict this hell upon them ... and that might well be worse than what's been done to him. He's had at least a few eons to adapt to unwelcome changes in environment or the attitudes of others.. but learning that adaption had come at a terrible price they'd all paid. Some poor soul snatched off the streets of the Black City would have no such familiarity, or explanation at all. Only the sudden horror like unto the End Times, though less contagious in its terror.
It's for the best, really. He wouldn't wish this fate on others of his kind.
This stubborn persistence was going to get Elidibus killed. He's certain of that too, whether by accident or design.
But wasn't contact supposed to help? Would it do anything about the warping of language into nonsense, the wavering sense of self and time, the boiling fury that never quite went away? None of it was as all-consuming as it had been the month before, but it felt like a near thing.
"If I tell you to leave, you will leave. No questions, no arguments. I will not have Ascian blood on my hands again." There's always a price, it seems, in trying to negotiate for anything with Lahabrea. This one might be rather less personally demanding than the last, of memory and effort into maintaining it!
But where is that little stash of jewels and precious metals? His gaze shifts to the side, weighing how safe it is. The cage is spacious, forged for something considerably larger than he was now, a cell more properly than merely a holding place for a beast in its tenuous comforts. But here indeed were the best of cushions, the softest blankets, the nicest area rug. His books, a magicked lamp. It might be better appointed than the sleeping space he usually utilized, but for the long stark shadows the bars throw. "And stay astray of the books." Which must thus be where he's also keeping his precious things, presumably the box they're stacked upon.
What a terrible temptation, putting all the reading material where murder would result if approached.
There may be a price to pay. But nothing truly worked for is free of cost. And Elidibus has proven he'll stand in the place meant for another's sacrifice. He won't allow for a hint of a reminder of this to show, out of respect and a desire to help Lahabrea. Even if the Emissary were to know that it isn't a simple matter of obtaining another host if this body were to die, he'd likely still persist.
"I shall," Elidibus agrees. Conditions are... acceptable. Some sort of trust has to exist from both ends for this to work. Where there's trust, there is safety. Where safety is, there's room for a little more effort. The rest is a race to save Lahabrea with this method before the feral state becomes irreversible.
He waits and then, Lahabrea doesn't need Elidibus to turn away to secure the stash. He infers where it is and trusts the Emissary not to do anything foolish. Which he will follow, though the books on Lahabrea shelves docontain a few volumes he has not gotten ahold of himself. If he finishes his own material brought along in the satchel, he'll just have to ask the Speaker to pass him an interesting book.
As long as there are cushions aplenty, Elidibus will not bring another with him. And before he approaches, he'll shed himself of his boots and socks, leaving only pants and shirt and bare feet. Once the cage is unlocked, the Ascian enters with care and great heed given to the danger zone of books and chest. The door is closed, the lock redone. The satchel was given a place to rest. Its contents can wait for a bit. He did, after all, set himself to a task after entry.
A cushion is chosen for him to sprawl into. Elidibus has been watching the mortals of late, seeking signs of bonding behavior that was not overly.... improper in tone. A great deal of this has consisted of various ways in which one sprawls over or against the other Bonded. It seems safe enough to try to encourage a form of it. Though the Emissary does start by reaching out (and up) with his hand. "There is something new I wish to try if you'll allow."
If Lahabrea would accept the hand, he will be encouraged to settle almost touching Elidibus.
"I shall," Elidibus agrees. Conditions are... acceptable. Some sort of trust has to exist from both ends for this to work. Where there's trust, there is safety. Where safety is, there's room for a little more effort. The rest is a race to save Lahabrea with this method before the feral state becomes irreversible.
He waits and then, Lahabrea doesn't need Elidibus to turn away to secure the stash. He infers where it is and trusts the Emissary not to do anything foolish. Which he will follow, though the books on Lahabrea shelves docontain a few volumes he has not gotten ahold of himself. If he finishes his own material brought along in the satchel, he'll just have to ask the Speaker to pass him an interesting book.
As long as there are cushions aplenty, Elidibus will not bring another with him. And before he approaches, he'll shed himself of his boots and socks, leaving only pants and shirt and bare feet. Once the cage is unlocked, the Ascian enters with care and great heed given to the danger zone of books and chest. The door is closed, the lock redone. The satchel was given a place to rest. Its contents can wait for a bit. He did, after all, set himself to a task after entry.
A cushion is chosen for him to sprawl into. Elidibus has been watching the mortals of late, seeking signs of bonding behavior that was not overly.... improper in tone. A great deal of this has consisted of various ways in which one sprawls over or against the other Bonded. It seems safe enough to try to encourage a form of it. Though the Emissary does start by reaching out (and up) with his hand. "There is something new I wish to try if you'll allow."
If Lahabrea would accept the hand, he will be encouraged to settle almost touching Elidibus.
Surely it is still just a matter of finding a new host for all of them. The only reason Lahabrea hadn't done so himself was the fact that his taint was soul-deep, had affected every thought he had; changing to a new body might simply mean enduring all of this a second time and warping a new shell into unrecognizability. But that Elidibus could simply find a new body to inhabit really wasn't the point as far as he's concerned. After having his impropriety thrown into stark relief in his attack on Emet-Selch not so long ago, he's not interested in repeating that grievous mistake any time soon, if he could help it.
The problem was, he's not sure he could help it, not during the damned full moons.
At least for the moment, there's no sudden overwhelming certainty that Elidibus is in fact after his treasures and he has to defend it, but he watches nonetheless, just in case, but it seems Elidibus is mindful of its location and has no intention of going near. That's fine. The comfortable spots were further away anyway, and he'd gone out of his way to collect all the best things for him to soothe himself with for the next few days.
Including the constant temptation of beanbag chair, waiting for the inevitability of Elidibus descending upon it once more.
Lahabrea himself has done no such research on bonds, and what was, and was not a good idea to do. That would require leaving, or dealing with neighbors, or other such things, but he did have a lone star-crossed lovers dime novel in the stack of books that suggested bodice ripping was in fact an amazing way to help strengthen a bond.
He has no intention of putting on a bodice, or suggesting Elidibus do the same. Instead there's an offered hand, and it's studied for a long silent moment before he acquiesces and does as bidden. "And what precisely are you intending to try?" Nothing improper surely, at least not intentionally, but their grip on what counted and what didn't was occasionally tenuous.
The problem was, he's not sure he could help it, not during the damned full moons.
At least for the moment, there's no sudden overwhelming certainty that Elidibus is in fact after his treasures and he has to defend it, but he watches nonetheless, just in case, but it seems Elidibus is mindful of its location and has no intention of going near. That's fine. The comfortable spots were further away anyway, and he'd gone out of his way to collect all the best things for him to soothe himself with for the next few days.
Including the constant temptation of beanbag chair, waiting for the inevitability of Elidibus descending upon it once more.
Lahabrea himself has done no such research on bonds, and what was, and was not a good idea to do. That would require leaving, or dealing with neighbors, or other such things, but he did have a lone star-crossed lovers dime novel in the stack of books that suggested bodice ripping was in fact an amazing way to help strengthen a bond.
He has no intention of putting on a bodice, or suggesting Elidibus do the same. Instead there's an offered hand, and it's studied for a long silent moment before he acquiesces and does as bidden. "And what precisely are you intending to try?" Nothing improper surely, at least not intentionally, but their grip on what counted and what didn't was occasionally tenuous.
[He doesn't WANT to be more specific, he wants Elidibus to know exactly what he means so he can feel safe in his worries.]
My cousin is missing. He was talking to you. Do you know where he went?
[Reynir is missing too, but, like............... That's fine, it's easier to pretend he's not worried about him.]
My cousin is missing. He was talking to you. Do you know where he went?
[Reynir is missing too, but, like............... That's fine, it's easier to pretend he's not worried about him.]
[Poor Lalli. But at least his response quickly lets Elidibus know the reason for the demand. Unfortunately he has no easy answer.]
I'm afraid I have not heard from him since our public conversation.
I understand your concern. And now I think about it, it seems unusual I have not heard from him since.
[Elidibus had a lot of things in the works and been unable to reach out himself.]
Given the recent kidnappings, I'm certain it is of some concern. When did you last speak to your cousin? When did you discover he was missing?
I'm afraid I have not heard from him since our public conversation.
I understand your concern. And now I think about it, it seems unusual I have not heard from him since.
[Elidibus had a lot of things in the works and been unable to reach out himself.]
Given the recent kidnappings, I'm certain it is of some concern. When did you last speak to your cousin? When did you discover he was missing?
The heavier-duty one, since I figured you would need it sooner than the other one. I'm practical, what can I say?
Yes, please. I'll be here.
Yes, please. I'll be here.
Spoiler Alert: It's not bodice-ripping.
But also, Elidibus had fallen to the allure of the bean-bag chair. Why shouldn't he be comfortable during this practice session? It's not an addiction and he'll be able to stop any time he wants.
Of course, it wouldn't be as easy as offering out a hand. While it remains outstretched, there is a slack added to it, so it is not too tiresome to maintain its reach. "I have observed a public habit of Bonded pairs which is a step outside of our comfort and thus, more telling of whether there is any beneficial effect." There is a slight pause and close of the eyes before they're reopened. Though his expression didn't change, it may well be a version of steeling himself further over the remainder.
"One would stretch out, not unlike I have. While the other would settle close to their side. In varying degrees, the second Bonded would then overlap body parts while the first wraps an arm in an embrace. They were capable of both practicing touch and attending to a second task." For instance, reading a book. Or knitting. Or eating a meal. It was very impressive.
And thus Elidibus demystifies the nature of a cuddle with calm, simple details.
But also, Elidibus had fallen to the allure of the bean-bag chair. Why shouldn't he be comfortable during this practice session? It's not an addiction and he'll be able to stop any time he wants.
Of course, it wouldn't be as easy as offering out a hand. While it remains outstretched, there is a slack added to it, so it is not too tiresome to maintain its reach. "I have observed a public habit of Bonded pairs which is a step outside of our comfort and thus, more telling of whether there is any beneficial effect." There is a slight pause and close of the eyes before they're reopened. Though his expression didn't change, it may well be a version of steeling himself further over the remainder.
"One would stretch out, not unlike I have. While the other would settle close to their side. In varying degrees, the second Bonded would then overlap body parts while the first wraps an arm in an embrace. They were capable of both practicing touch and attending to a second task." For instance, reading a book. Or knitting. Or eating a meal. It was very impressive.
And thus Elidibus demystifies the nature of a cuddle with calm, simple details.
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