[Adding more from Fodlan to their number has been both welcome and worrying— it is something Claude had spoken to both Petra and Sylvain about in the past, both wanting and not wanting to see familiar faces here. Their company, of course, was welcome, but the circumstances of their being here were less than desirable.
Petra has found herself feeling much the same, but for the time being, she is intent on focusing on the fact that she is glad to be reunited with friends, as well as doing her part to ensure they settle in comfortably. This particular afternoon brings her to Hilda's door, which she knocks at before leaning through with her bow slung over one shoulder.]
Hilda! I was hoping I would be finding you here!
Petra has found herself feeling much the same, but for the time being, she is intent on focusing on the fact that she is glad to be reunited with friends, as well as doing her part to ensure they settle in comfortably. This particular afternoon brings her to Hilda's door, which she knocks at before leaning through with her bow slung over one shoulder.]
Hilda! I was hoping I would be finding you here!
[ Hilda had always admired Petra. She thought that she was everything that made sense about a princess: smart, kind, strong, great hair. Was Hilda personally into the whole hunting thing? Not really. But she had always enjoyed listening to Petra tell tales about her childhood and how growing up in Brigid had been so different from her upbringing in Goneril.
So sure, they were in a completely different world. And they were apparently from different timelines. But Hilda was trying to look on the bright side of things: it really meant more time with someone that she liked and wanted to get to know better. When Petra finds her that morning she's in the process of combing through her freshly washed hair. She grins at her friend as she comes through the door. ]
Of course I'm here. It's you that I'd never be able to find; you're always up and about before I'm even up!
So sure, they were in a completely different world. And they were apparently from different timelines. But Hilda was trying to look on the bright side of things: it really meant more time with someone that she liked and wanted to get to know better. When Petra finds her that morning she's in the process of combing through her freshly washed hair. She grins at her friend as she comes through the door. ]
Of course I'm here. It's you that I'd never be able to find; you're always up and about before I'm even up!
[While under normal circumstances, Petra would prefer to deliver this gift in person, she has been trying to give Hilda a bit of space since their discussion in Luna— not ignoring her, of course, and being as friendly as she ever is, but understandably, their talk had brought some conflicting feelings to the surface, and so Petra has been aiming for caution.
On the afternoon of the third, Hilda will find a small box with a ribbon waiting on her pillow. Inside is a decorative comb and a short note in Petra's handwriting.]
Dear Hilda,
I wanted to be wishing you the happiest of birthdays. I know that this might not be the right time, but when you are feeling ready, I would like to be treating you to tea. I am hoping this finds you well— I can think of no one else it would look quite so lovely on. I found it during my last trip to Nocwich. Maybe next time, we can be visiting together.
- Petra
On the afternoon of the third, Hilda will find a small box with a ribbon waiting on her pillow. Inside is a decorative comb and a short note in Petra's handwriting.]
Dear Hilda,
I wanted to be wishing you the happiest of birthdays. I know that this might not be the right time, but when you are feeling ready, I would like to be treating you to tea. I am hoping this finds you well— I can think of no one else it would look quite so lovely on. I found it during my last trip to Nocwich. Maybe next time, we can be visiting together.
- Petra
[ On the morning of Hilda's birthday, there's a wrapped bundle waiting beside the door to her room waiting to be discovered by the birthday celebrant herself when she wakes.
The gift is two-fold, or perhaps more-fold depending on how one looks at it. Rather than it being bundled in paper and strings, a scarf with dyed flowers, eye-catching due to the bright colors and vaguely anemone-like, serves as the wrapping paper for the jewelry box inside. Said jewelry box could use a little attention and polish from someone who enjoys making things sparkle, and there's a flat space on the lid where it could be painted with a design should its new owner wish to decorate it further.
Inside the box there's a couple sachets of rose petal tea, a small set of jewelry tools, and another pouch full of different glass beads he's picked up here and there in the market which reminded him of ones Hilda used in her projects from before. On top of it all is a letter folded carefully into an envelope, with the script inside reading:
The gift is two-fold, or perhaps more-fold depending on how one looks at it. Rather than it being bundled in paper and strings, a scarf with dyed flowers, eye-catching due to the bright colors and vaguely anemone-like, serves as the wrapping paper for the jewelry box inside. Said jewelry box could use a little attention and polish from someone who enjoys making things sparkle, and there's a flat space on the lid where it could be painted with a design should its new owner wish to decorate it further.
Inside the box there's a couple sachets of rose petal tea, a small set of jewelry tools, and another pouch full of different glass beads he's picked up here and there in the market which reminded him of ones Hilda used in her projects from before. On top of it all is a letter folded carefully into an envelope, with the script inside reading:
Happy birthday, Hilda—The gift giver will be nowhere to be found at the time Hilda might find her gift, but: he will reappear later on to take her for a birthday lunch somewhere befitting this special occasion. ]
Though neither of us could have guessed we'd end up here - in many different ways - there's still no one I'd rather cause all kinds of mischief with than my best friend. That this is consistent despite everything else means more to me than you could ever know.
May this new year ahead bring both more of it and more memories yet to be created. (Next time we'll have to try something besides arm wrestling out on everyone else. I think they might be onto us by now.)
—Claude.
[ One of the first things he does is try to reach out to the others, although it feels so much harder to focus right now. At least she won't be able to pick up on the low levels of panicking from his text. ]
Hild̵̳̄̄́̒a̶̝̻͎̝̎̂̈́͜?
are you t̵̻̐͝h̴̖͊ȅ̸͎̀r̵̠̀̋ë̴̗̬́?̸͚̏̋ ̷̪̲̀͂A̷̳̍͠ͅr̵̙͗e̶̩̾̋ ̶͈̹̈ẙ̴̟̯̚o̴̱͝u̵͇̫͋ okay? i don't know w̵̲̏h̷͕͐̈́ě̶̬̑r̶̛̪̀e̵͕͐ ̸̥̎̈́w̶̠͚͠e̶̬̺̿ ̴̺̼́̈a̴̖͆͛ṟ̶̽̾e̸̜̭̔,̶̟̐ ̸̼̮͆͠t̸͙͚̆ẖ̷̊̄ė̷͕͝ỵ̶̓ ̴̧̀c̸̱̑a̷̰͑m̵̻͆e̴̊̈́ͅ out of nowhere. be careful!
Hild̵̳̄̄́̒a̶̝̻͎̝̎̂̈́͜?
are you t̵̻̐͝h̴̖͊ȅ̸͎̀r̵̠̀̋ë̴̗̬́?̸͚̏̋ ̷̪̲̀͂A̷̳̍͠ͅr̵̙͗e̶̩̾̋ ̶͈̹̈ẙ̴̟̯̚o̴̱͝u̵͇̫͋ okay? i don't know w̵̲̏h̷͕͐̈́ě̶̬̑r̶̛̪̀e̵͕͐ ̸̥̎̈́w̶̠͚͠e̶̬̺̿ ̴̺̼́̈a̴̖͆͛ṟ̶̽̾e̸̜̭̔,̶̟̐ ̸̼̮͆͠t̸͙͚̆ẖ̷̊̄ė̷͕͝ỵ̶̓ ̴̧̀c̸̱̑a̷̰͑m̵̻͆e̴̊̈́ͅ out of nowhere. be careful!
[ Hilda thinks she’s seeing things after sleepless nights curled up in Sylvian’s bed. Her annoyance flares up again thinking that the jumbled text is somehow another elaborate joke but the words leave her with a sense of dread. She sits bolt-up right, trying to quash the fear in her throat. ]
𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘯? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥? 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?
[ She has half a mind to run straight back to her room and curl around Petra. ]
𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘯? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥? 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?
[ She has half a mind to run straight back to her room and curl around Petra. ]
Shortly after Sam's announcement during the disappearances
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widows_kiss
2023-02-22 08:14 pm (UTC)(link)
This is Natasha, Sam said he was putting you in charge of patrolling the Horizon? If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know.
Also I had no idea you knew Sam.
Also I had no idea you knew Sam.
𝘕𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘢?
[ She remembers the cunning, fox-like woman from the boat and it also doesn't occur to her that she's acquainted with Sam. Sleepless nights were really making her miss out on things she wouldn't normally otherwise. ]
𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺! 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵.
𝘐 𝘥𝘰. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘊𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦?
[ She remembers the cunning, fox-like woman from the boat and it also doesn't occur to her that she's acquainted with Sam. Sleepless nights were really making her miss out on things she wouldn't normally otherwise. ]
𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺! 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵.
𝘐 𝘥𝘰. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘊𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦?
[So far, Jayden hasn't bothered trying the network; he knows it's garbled and he's had nothing worth trying to communicate anyway. But after learning something that might be potentially important he decides to make an attempt, and with Hilda being one of the few people he knows that isn't among the lost, she's the logical person to try contacting.]
Cultḭ̶̓̌͌͝s̵̨͖̝̮̉͑̑͘t̷̘̥́͗̚s̶͔͓̍ͅ h̶̬͑͘͝a̴̘̺̮͑v̸͓̱̲̳́e̷̥̱̕.̸̧͈͐̈̅͝ no eyes, jus̶͈̯̥̭̆̏t̶̨͉̱̥̊̀ ̵͙̫̖̽̑̌̈́ͅkeyholes ̵͕̥̲̇͊̀͜͝M̷̱̌̀̕i̵̬̜̍́̔͝g̷̺̹̀̃h̶͓̩̄͋t̸̜́͊́̚ͅ ̸̖͚̽̈͜ see thrǫ̴̌̽̈́͠ų̸̯̩̿̑g̵̻͑̃̏̑h̴͇̰̍̇̌͆ ̷͙̳͕̐͐͠t̸̲͕̱̑̉h̸̨̏̋ē̷͓̦̅͝ masks.
Cultḭ̶̓̌͌͝s̵̨͖̝̮̉͑̑͘t̷̘̥́͗̚s̶͔͓̍ͅ h̶̬͑͘͝a̴̘̺̮͑v̸͓̱̲̳́e̷̥̱̕.̸̧͈͐̈̅͝ no eyes, jus̶͈̯̥̭̆̏t̶̨͉̱̥̊̀ ̵͙̫̖̽̑̌̈́ͅkeyholes ̵͕̥̲̇͊̀͜͝M̷̱̌̀̕i̵̬̜̍́̔͝g̷̺̹̀̃h̶͓̩̄͋t̸̜́͊́̚ͅ ̸̖͚̽̈͜ see thrǫ̴̌̽̈́͠ų̸̯̩̿̑g̵̻͑̃̏̑h̴͇̰̍̇̌͆ ̷͙̳͕̐͐͠t̸̲͕̱̑̉h̸̨̏̋ē̷͓̦̅͝ masks.
[ Hilda should really become used to seeing these kinds of messages at this point, but that certainly isn't the case. The jarring feeling hasn't quite yet worn off and she can't help but jolt in her seat when Jayden's words flash across the surface of the desk she's seated at. ]
𝘑𝘢𝘺𝘥𝘦𝘯?
[ Panic that she's been trying to keep at bay most of the week starts to churn in her stomach. Not him too. It's concerning enough to realize that the man she had met only recently had been taken but for her to then realize what exactly he's trying to tell her. She's taken to keeping her notebook by her for moments like these in an attempt to decipher messages after they had long since faded and she quickly scrawls them onto a blank page, trying to puzzle it out.
The reality is enough to make her stomach churn a little more violently this time as a chill runs down her spine. ]
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘺𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴? 𝘈𝘮 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?
𝘑𝘢𝘺𝘥𝘦𝘯?
[ Panic that she's been trying to keep at bay most of the week starts to churn in her stomach. Not him too. It's concerning enough to realize that the man she had met only recently had been taken but for her to then realize what exactly he's trying to tell her. She's taken to keeping her notebook by her for moments like these in an attempt to decipher messages after they had long since faded and she quickly scrawls them onto a blank page, trying to puzzle it out.
The reality is enough to make her stomach churn a little more violently this time as a chill runs down her spine. ]
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘺𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴? 𝘈𝘮 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?
[It's entirely possible he won't be the first person to contact her after the grand escape; it only crosses his mind to do so several hours later, once things have quieted a little and he's pacing around the altar room where the remaining group is now trapped. He has no idea just yet that the network will be clearer now than it was before, and so he sends a simple message at first.]
Got a few updates to report.
[Is that sufficiently simple and yet not ominous? Maybe. Sort of. Hopefully.]
Got a few updates to report.
[Is that sufficiently simple and yet not ominous? Maybe. Sort of. Hopefully.]
[ After their last interaction, it's been difficult for Hilda to ignore the worry she had over Jayden's wellbeing. She had tried to send her own updates when she could, but there was little news on their front, and honestly, being told that they've all moved to Nocwich to mobilize for...something probably isn't helpful.
The first thing she notices though is that the words aren't a jumbled mess. She's so used to seeing them now that she has to do a bit of a double take. She can puzzle that out later though. ]
Jay! What is it? Are you okay?
The first thing she notices though is that the words aren't a jumbled mess. She's so used to seeing them now that she has to do a bit of a double take. She can puzzle that out later though. ]
Jay! What is it? Are you okay?
[ it's a pretty casual day at when the thought strikes sam - one of the few where he doesn't actually have a laundry list of urgent items on his to do list. he considers just going into the horizon to relax for a bit, possibly check in on a few people from the other facts, when he remembers hilda, and the promise of dragon riding, and honestly? he's been meaning to touch base with her anyway. ]
HILDA!
THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE WELCOME COMMITTEE, YOU CAN RELAX
BUT YOU MENTIONED TEACHING ME HOW TO RIDE WYVERNS AT ONE POINT
THAT OFFER STILL OPEN?
𝘚𝘢𝘮!
[ Sam's message couldn't have come at a better time. Being in the throws of trying to pretend that she was fine and that she hadn't just bitten off the head of her best friend, while simultaneously distancing herself from another close friend really takes it out of a girl. ]
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐'𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴! 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘬. 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸?
[ Sam's message couldn't have come at a better time. Being in the throws of trying to pretend that she was fine and that she hadn't just bitten off the head of her best friend, while simultaneously distancing herself from another close friend really takes it out of a girl. ]
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐'𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴! 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘬. 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸?
[ When she sees the message, she's actually in the Old Public Hall reviewing the inventory list before the performance that evening. There's probably a couple of minutes before her reply comes through because she's sending someone else a message. There can only be one other person who knows Alucard well and had been there to witness her regrettable act of murder self-defense. ]
Edited 2023-06-05 01:18 (UTC)
[ The afternoon sun's shining brightly as makes his way towards today's delivery destination which is a jeweler whose name only seems sort of familiar, and possibly only from past deliveries. It's nice weather and a chance to get a little exercise in plus see some sort of new sights: what more could he need? Certainly not the thought that it'd be better to have a certain someone on this trip, short as it might be, or that who comes to mind is someone he's still not on speaking terms with despite everything.
The plan is to drop off the package and go, but with no real plans for after this besides grabbing a late lunch at a cafe somewhere nearby before heading off to take advantage of some rare free time, it's easy enough for him to be roped into (or just outright accept) the jeweler's requests for help in moving some supplies around.
One crate turns into a couple and then the process of unpacking them. It's close to what he does for merchants like the one he'd brought this package from in the first place, and easy to lose track of time as he settles into the task. It's while he's looking along the shelves in the back of this surprisingly substantial storeroom for where he's supposed to place this particular box he hears a familiar voice and one he knows well which causes him to freeze in place. Now why everything about this place sounded familiar makes more sense.
A glance over his shoulder reveals he's more or less out of the immediate line of sight. With any luck, he can skirt around the outside of the room and leave without being noticed or called out for it by... well, anyone. That plan starts with him setting down what's in his hands as quietly as he can, and then it's just a matter of ducking behind the closest shelves when the door swings open with the intent to keep moving if it's possible. ]
The plan is to drop off the package and go, but with no real plans for after this besides grabbing a late lunch at a cafe somewhere nearby before heading off to take advantage of some rare free time, it's easy enough for him to be roped into (or just outright accept) the jeweler's requests for help in moving some supplies around.
One crate turns into a couple and then the process of unpacking them. It's close to what he does for merchants like the one he'd brought this package from in the first place, and easy to lose track of time as he settles into the task. It's while he's looking along the shelves in the back of this surprisingly substantial storeroom for where he's supposed to place this particular box he hears a familiar voice and one he knows well which causes him to freeze in place. Now why everything about this place sounded familiar makes more sense.
A glance over his shoulder reveals he's more or less out of the immediate line of sight. With any luck, he can skirt around the outside of the room and leave without being noticed or called out for it by... well, anyone. That plan starts with him setting down what's in his hands as quietly as he can, and then it's just a matter of ducking behind the closest shelves when the door swings open with the intent to keep moving if it's possible. ]
[ Ever since returning from the feywilds, Hilda had fallen back into old habits she had picked up since her fight with He Who Shall Not Be Named. She rarely sleeps at the loft anymore, not because she's conceding in any way to him and the silly lines they drawn over the floors separating his side from hers, but because she didn't want to stress Sylvain out more than they already had. There's something there about how they (because she refuses to be the only one at fault) could dispel the tension in other ways by talking to one another and apologizing, but Hilda has never been much of a fan of rationality when it didn't suit her. And apologizing for her spat with Claude? That didn't suit her at all.
Her return to the inn had been met with little fanfare. She didn't want it to. But Mags had begun to notice and ask questions, and it's shortly after that that Hilda quickly changed her tactics by making sleeping arrangements on the couch of her office in the Old Public Hall. As of late though, she didn't even make it back to the Old Public Hall or the inn. Instead, she had taken up residence in the attic of Cyprian's workshop and store. It wasn't ideal sleeping in a workshop, but Hilda felt safe there, tucked away in her little corner of the world without the thought of Sylvain, Claude, or anything really. No one else knew that she worked out of there, at least not explicitly. There's nothing embarrassing about Cyprian - quite the opposite in fact. Hilda's affection for the man had grown quickly and she appreciated his patience, understanding and enthusiasm. That doesn't mean, however, that she's ready to let everyone else know she's effectively taken up a pseudo-apprenticeship.
She's beginning to understand why Bernie had been so insistent on staying inside of her room. But, she tells herself that she still has a life outside the workshop. She hasn't become some hermit and has craftily divide her time between the four haunts so as not to raise suspicions. All of it had been going swimmingly - until Cyprian noticed and took it upon himself to inquire after it. ]
Didn't you just move into a nice new loft?
What's wrong with sleeping at the shop from time to time? I was just so wrapped up in my project that it just happened! You know how it is.
[ She can practically hear Claude's voice in less words because she's fairly positive they've had some version of this conversation when he falls asleep at his desk. Cyprian stares at her in a way that only a grandfather can and she feels her resolve begin to shrink. ]
Hilda -
[ His voice is nothing but concern, but the show of care flares the heat up in cheeks. ]
Don't you have a shop to mind? I promise you can try and convince me not to sleep in the workshop after I come back, okay?
[ When the door to the warehouse swings shut, a relieved - albeit sad - sigh flutters from her lips. Leaning against the door with her eyes to the rafters she takes a moment to collect herself, wondering not for the first time if she should just bite the bullet and find some place else to live. If Cyprian noticed then it only stands to reason that someone else at the Old Public Hall will eventually notice too. The thought alone truly feels like conceding however which her stubborn side absolutely refuses to entertain.
With one final exasperated sigh, she pushes herself off the door before moving towards the back of the room. Moping isn't going to help. The sooner she finds the box she had put away for safe keeping, the sooner she can get back to working. ]
Her return to the inn had been met with little fanfare. She didn't want it to. But Mags had begun to notice and ask questions, and it's shortly after that that Hilda quickly changed her tactics by making sleeping arrangements on the couch of her office in the Old Public Hall. As of late though, she didn't even make it back to the Old Public Hall or the inn. Instead, she had taken up residence in the attic of Cyprian's workshop and store. It wasn't ideal sleeping in a workshop, but Hilda felt safe there, tucked away in her little corner of the world without the thought of Sylvain, Claude, or anything really. No one else knew that she worked out of there, at least not explicitly. There's nothing embarrassing about Cyprian - quite the opposite in fact. Hilda's affection for the man had grown quickly and she appreciated his patience, understanding and enthusiasm. That doesn't mean, however, that she's ready to let everyone else know she's effectively taken up a pseudo-apprenticeship.
She's beginning to understand why Bernie had been so insistent on staying inside of her room. But, she tells herself that she still has a life outside the workshop. She hasn't become some hermit and has craftily divide her time between the four haunts so as not to raise suspicions. All of it had been going swimmingly - until Cyprian noticed and took it upon himself to inquire after it. ]
Didn't you just move into a nice new loft?
What's wrong with sleeping at the shop from time to time? I was just so wrapped up in my project that it just happened! You know how it is.
[ She can practically hear Claude's voice in less words because she's fairly positive they've had some version of this conversation when he falls asleep at his desk. Cyprian stares at her in a way that only a grandfather can and she feels her resolve begin to shrink. ]
Hilda -
[ His voice is nothing but concern, but the show of care flares the heat up in cheeks. ]
Don't you have a shop to mind? I promise you can try and convince me not to sleep in the workshop after I come back, okay?
[ When the door to the warehouse swings shut, a relieved - albeit sad - sigh flutters from her lips. Leaning against the door with her eyes to the rafters she takes a moment to collect herself, wondering not for the first time if she should just bite the bullet and find some place else to live. If Cyprian noticed then it only stands to reason that someone else at the Old Public Hall will eventually notice too. The thought alone truly feels like conceding however which her stubborn side absolutely refuses to entertain.
With one final exasperated sigh, she pushes herself off the door before moving towards the back of the room. Moping isn't going to help. The sooner she finds the box she had put away for safe keeping, the sooner she can get back to working. ]
Edited 2023-07-12 23:38 (UTC)
— it'll never be the same from a heart's collision | mid/end july, cw for drinking
theidlemaiden
2023-07-24 05:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's been several days since everything came to a head with Sylvain. Several day since she had found out that he had been Lief, several days since she had told him that she didn't care or want him in any way, shape or form. She had been halfway out of his bedroom door when she heard him say that she couldn't avoid Claude forever, and a small voice said that she'd prove him wrong. Hilda was good at avoidance; it wasn't so unlike the dances she had practiced from a young age. Avoidance helped soften the reality of things, coloured her actions and choices so that all roads lead to ignorant bliss.
But ignorant bliss can only do so much in the face of gnawing guilt, and her rose-coloured glasses had been askew for far longer than she's willing to admit. Nothing can soften the image of Sylvain hunched over on his bed, rubbing face in his hands. No amount of Caden's noise can help her forget how hollow he sounded because of something she had done. But maybe alcohol can.
The sun sets on Cadens. Hilda had spent most of the day at the Sarstina, tucked away instead of being out front and centre in the middle of the tavern like she's normally want to do. Her table is littered with mugs; she had started with wine before moving to ale (a decision that will probably end poorly for her tomorrow) - all of it on a mostly empty stomach. Mags had insisted she go home (not the room she had returned to upstairs, but the loft), but Hilda had refused, stubbornly digging her heels in. In a moment of concern, Mag is quick to send for Sylvain having heard enough slurred cries about how Hilda hated Claude and never wanted to see him again. But by the time Sylvain arrives, Hilda's table is vacated and empty, the only trace of her being there at all is her cloak draped over the chair. ]
But ignorant bliss can only do so much in the face of gnawing guilt, and her rose-coloured glasses had been askew for far longer than she's willing to admit. Nothing can soften the image of Sylvain hunched over on his bed, rubbing face in his hands. No amount of Caden's noise can help her forget how hollow he sounded because of something she had done. But maybe alcohol can.
The sun sets on Cadens. Hilda had spent most of the day at the Sarstina, tucked away instead of being out front and centre in the middle of the tavern like she's normally want to do. Her table is littered with mugs; she had started with wine before moving to ale (a decision that will probably end poorly for her tomorrow) - all of it on a mostly empty stomach. Mags had insisted she go home (not the room she had returned to upstairs, but the loft), but Hilda had refused, stubbornly digging her heels in. In a moment of concern, Mag is quick to send for Sylvain having heard enough slurred cries about how Hilda hated Claude and never wanted to see him again. But by the time Sylvain arrives, Hilda's table is vacated and empty, the only trace of her being there at all is her cloak draped over the chair. ]
[ He’d almost ignored the messenger knocking on the loft door. It was getting late and he’d been settling in for the evening after dinner, the loft quiet and empty. Which it was far too often these days. He was beginning to wonder if maybe them moving away from the Inn had been a mistake after all.
The message from Mags had drawn a frown to his lips as he read over the words. He hadn’t seen Hilda since that night in his room. Hadn’t sought her out, not when everything was still too raw and painful. Which was really only his own fault anyway.
Even now, he’s pretty sure he’s the last person she’d want to see, but he doesn’t know who else he could send, not when she and Claude still aren’t talking. So he gets up and heads out with a quiet sigh, traversing the darkened streets to the Inn with an easy familiarity.
Stepping inside doesn’t find him his quarry and it’s only after asking around that he steps out the back door into the stableyard where he’d spent so much of his time when he’d lived here himself. He pauses on the back step, head cocked and listening and wondering how far he’s going to have to go hunting tonight. ]
The message from Mags had drawn a frown to his lips as he read over the words. He hadn’t seen Hilda since that night in his room. Hadn’t sought her out, not when everything was still too raw and painful. Which was really only his own fault anyway.
Even now, he’s pretty sure he’s the last person she’d want to see, but he doesn’t know who else he could send, not when she and Claude still aren’t talking. So he gets up and heads out with a quiet sigh, traversing the darkened streets to the Inn with an easy familiarity.
Stepping inside doesn’t find him his quarry and it’s only after asking around that he steps out the back door into the stableyard where he’d spent so much of his time when he’d lived here himself. He pauses on the back step, head cocked and listening and wondering how far he’s going to have to go hunting tonight. ]
— i'm not lazy, i'm just cautious (my heart ponding makes me nauseous) | early aug @ cryptsleeper
theidlemaiden
2023-08-10 04:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ As the days leading up to their appointed training session loomed closer, Hilda had tried in vain to come up with whatever excuses she could to dodge it. Had she been the one to initiate this in the first place? Yes. Does that mean she'll still whine and dig her heels into the ground in protest? Absolutely.
The only saving grace to this entire ordeal is that she's spending time with Alucard. Well, that and there's dinner and dessert at the end of it. But all of those things combined are still not enough to dispel the pout from her lips as they arrive at the training grounds that day. It's clear that some part of her is resigned to her fate. Her hair is up in a rare ponytail that day in an attempt to keep most of it out of her face, and she's dressed in plainer clothing than she might otherwise don. Even her boots - which are still fashionable - err on the side of practical.
She unstraps her axe from her back with a sigh. ]
Are you sure we can't just skip to dinner and dessert? I'm already sweaty.
The only saving grace to this entire ordeal is that she's spending time with Alucard. Well, that and there's dinner and dessert at the end of it. But all of those things combined are still not enough to dispel the pout from her lips as they arrive at the training grounds that day. It's clear that some part of her is resigned to her fate. Her hair is up in a rare ponytail that day in an attempt to keep most of it out of her face, and she's dressed in plainer clothing than she might otherwise don. Even her boots - which are still fashionable - err on the side of practical.
She unstraps her axe from her back with a sigh. ]
Are you sure we can't just skip to dinner and dessert? I'm already sweaty.
Hilda, you asked me to do this for you.
[Alucard has placed his coat off to one side, but has otherwise dressed no differently. Simple white shirt. Black trousers. Sturdy boots. Hair very much still down, and now sword unsheathed.
It is a fair replica of the one from home, although this one rather pointedly does not float.]
And if we put it off now, it'll be put off perpetually.
[Alucard has placed his coat off to one side, but has otherwise dressed no differently. Simple white shirt. Black trousers. Sturdy boots. Hair very much still down, and now sword unsheathed.
It is a fair replica of the one from home, although this one rather pointedly does not float.]
And if we put it off now, it'll be put off perpetually.
[ It takes the second time Claire finds herself in need of healing to stop and find herself inside a residence to catch her breath. There's the sticky residue of blood on her neck, but she's otherwise fine and isn't in any sort of headspace to contemplate magical healing having experienced it now for herself.
Instead, she's reaching out to Hilda, then to everyone else in other factions she cares for. ]
𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑆𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒, 𝐻𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑎, 𝑏𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙.
Instead, she's reaching out to Hilda, then to everyone else in other factions she cares for. ]
𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑆𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒, 𝐻𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑎, 𝑏𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙.
[ Claire is incredibly lucky that these messages can't transmit videos of what the sender's state currently is because Hilda would be on the verge of rioting right now.
Hilda's own state is a little battered and a little bruised, but nothing that some healing magic can't take care of. She's surrounded by a plethora of parts and books and she's fairly certain she's going cross-eyed staring at everything as intently as she has been for the last however many hours.
The woman's words bring a wry smile to her lips. ]
𝘈𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦?
Hilda's own state is a little battered and a little bruised, but nothing that some healing magic can't take care of. She's surrounded by a plethora of parts and books and she's fairly certain she's going cross-eyed staring at everything as intently as she has been for the last however many hours.
The woman's words bring a wry smile to her lips. ]
𝘈𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦?
[ So. There's a small problem. At some point in the midst of all the monster attacks, Hilda receives a sudden, hurried message. Even in mind-text, the urgency carries, the 'penmanship' quick and messy where before it had been elegantly pristine. ]
I'm sorry
It's Linhardt
that monster I saw in my dream is here and Linhardt is being possessed by it or something
we don't know how to help him
Please
I'm sorry
It's Linhardt
that monster I saw in my dream is here and Linhardt is being possessed by it or something
we don't know how to help him
Please
[ The message comes a day after she has her own "possession". The creature's hold on her is no longer present but she's still reeling from the feelings she had felt in that moment, the need to hurt, to feast, to kill.
But the familiar writing, the name of a friend, along with a clear message that he's in danger sends any other thought immediately from her mind.
Her own message is scrawled back - ]
𝘙𝘩𝘺?!
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯?
[ And then a beat later she adds for the both of them, ]
𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺.
But the familiar writing, the name of a friend, along with a clear message that he's in danger sends any other thought immediately from her mind.
Her own message is scrawled back - ]
𝘙𝘩𝘺?!
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯?
[ And then a beat later she adds for the both of them, ]
𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺.
Are you still here? I have seen evidence of you in Horizon but you have not responded to my question about whether I could nap in Goneril.
[Linhardt spends time at the monastery and notes what is happening, he just is usually there at odd hours.]
[ She sees the message just as she's beginning to stir from a nap of her own which is unfortunately not Goneril. ]
𝘖𝘰𝘱𝘴, 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺! 𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵. 𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘎𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘭. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘔𝘰𝘨𝘸𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦.
[ The temperature in her domain is, unsurprisingly, always adjusted to the nappers preference. ]
𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭.
𝘖𝘰𝘱𝘴, 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺! 𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵. 𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘎𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘭. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘔𝘰𝘨𝘸𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦.
[ The temperature in her domain is, unsurprisingly, always adjusted to the nappers preference. ]
𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭.
The Black Eagle maturity is off the charts - most inclined to prank wars
sleepfan
- 2023-09-10 21:37 (UTC) - ExpandHildaaaa. I have a poem for you.
Roses are red.
Violets aren't blue.
They are violet.
And I’m going to be violent here soon if they keep taking my stash.
S.O.S.
Roses are red.
Violets aren't blue.
They are violet.
And I’m going to be viole
S.O.S.
{ he didn’t say it was a good poem. p.s. ignore the totally unhinged moment back there. }
Actually, while on topic, what is your favorite color?
[ She'll forgive him, she understands being a little loopy. In fact, she'll send her own little ditty along. ]
...𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘺! 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘩? 𝘋𝘰 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮?
𝘐'𝘮 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 - 𝘸𝘩𝘺?
𝘖𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵, 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵
𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵
𝘖𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰
𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵,
𝘛𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘦𝘺𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰
...𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘺! 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘩? 𝘋𝘰 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮?
𝘐'𝘮 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 - 𝘸𝘩𝘺?
she's going to have to find a fitting one that isn't just a shortened version of his name too
theidlemaiden
- 2023-09-28 04:21 (UTC) - Expand{ eliot had a self-made quest after taking too long to recover. it started with a boutique store in the city. he ended up spending most of the day there periodically as he begun to feel better in the physical sense. the emotion bottle did cause pain to his psyche, but he's been there and won't flinch at it. it's part of deal with magic. along the weeks, he found a space that isn't his room where he'll store different patterns to what he was trying to envision. it probably wouldn't be ideal to have all the supplies he needs laid on half of his side of the room. kyle wouldn't appreciate that, and he can't risk someone stepping over the fabric.
eliot is good with people. he takes advantage of it by charming the seamstress in the store. right now he'd rather do something that is less about trying to survive beasts and overcoming having to kill again. a slice of life, if one can call it that?
it takes a better part of two weeks when he finishes, thanking the woman whose name is janet, which absolutely makes him pause. she's older with a sort of mean look that only is upfront. it's very a devil wears prada with the streak of white hair and an eye for color he can appreciate. he likes her. apparently she likes him enough to give him an honest opinion as the clock strikes closer to the portal, and with it in sight and a final approval, he has the super-top-secret garment in his hands, carefully packaged into some fancy cloth all tied neatly into a bag, that he may or may not have taken from thorne's hallway decoration...
off he goes, into nocwich and the eternal night to see thought the sort of quests he would prefer nowadays. he let hilda know he'll be at the fountain in the main square of the marketplace, and he stays settled with the package on his lap. then he pulls out a small pipe he also may have allegedly taken from somewhere in thorne, lighting it up and taking a break. he deserves it. the puffs will smell like peach if someone gets close enough, something of a little trick whenever he does smoke. once he sees a stellar shade of pink in sight he tilts his attention. }
Ah. Rosé, darling. Guess where I was before this?
eliot is good with people. he takes advantage of it by charming the seamstress in the store. right now he'd rather do something that is less about trying to survive beasts and overcoming having to kill again. a slice of life, if one can call it that?
it takes a better part of two weeks when he finishes, thanking the woman whose name is janet, which absolutely makes him pause. she's older with a sort of mean look that only is upfront. it's very a devil wears prada with the streak of white hair and an eye for color he can appreciate. he likes her. apparently she likes him enough to give him an honest opinion as the clock strikes closer to the portal, and with it in sight and a final approval, he has the super-top-secret garment in his hands, carefully packaged into some fancy cloth all tied neatly into a bag, that he may or may not have taken from thorne's hallway decoration...
off he goes, into nocwich and the eternal night to see thought the sort of quests he would prefer nowadays. he let hilda know he'll be at the fountain in the main square of the marketplace, and he stays settled with the package on his lap. then he pulls out a small pipe he also may have allegedly taken from somewhere in thorne, lighting it up and taking a break. he deserves it. the puffs will smell like peach if someone gets close enough, something of a little trick whenever he does smoke. once he sees a stellar shade of pink in sight he tilts his attention. }
Ah. Rosé, darling. Guess where I was before this?
My glittering heart!
[ One of the many pet names she's come up with (and there's probably more to come) trills from her lips and over the din of the crowd even before she's reached him. Part of the projected announcement has in part to do with the fact that she's walking a little slower than she'd have liked no thanks to her still healing injuries and just because someone like Eliot deserved that sort of fanfare. There's a third reason there of course - because if she acts like she didn't almost die then it might as well not have occurred in the first place, right?
There's nothing to betray that she might be hurting. Not in the way that she's dressed (although long sleeves, a high collar and not an inch of skin showing might be a tip off considering she's someone that always enjoys showing a little bit of skin to tantalize and tease), or in the way that she walks or looks. She breezes up to him, giving him two quick kisses on the cheek before sliding beside him onto the fountain, noting the faint smell of peach in the air leftover from the smoke. Her lips quirk in amusement. ]
Is this a trick question? Because my first guess is Thorne.
[ One of the many pet names she's come up with (and there's probably more to come) trills from her lips and over the din of the crowd even before she's reached him. Part of the projected announcement has in part to do with the fact that she's walking a little slower than she'd have liked no thanks to her still healing injuries and just because someone like Eliot deserved that sort of fanfare. There's a third reason there of course - because if she acts like she didn't almost die then it might as well not have occurred in the first place, right?
There's nothing to betray that she might be hurting. Not in the way that she's dressed (although long sleeves, a high collar and not an inch of skin showing might be a tip off considering she's someone that always enjoys showing a little bit of skin to tantalize and tease), or in the way that she walks or looks. She breezes up to him, giving him two quick kisses on the cheek before sliding beside him onto the fountain, noting the faint smell of peach in the air leftover from the smoke. Her lips quirk in amusement. ]
Is this a trick question? Because my first guess is Thorne.
𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺? 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵? 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦, 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘶𝘦.
[ It's been a while since he's walked through the entirety of Garreg Mach. Most of the time, Claude has a destination in mind - the aerie, the library, the fishing docks to lounge - and takes the paths he remembers well to get there. There's certainly something soothing about it even if he knows it's not the same thing. There's also the thought that his days of walking the real place are past beyond whatever time he'll be able to make it back to visit in an entirely different capacity, assuming he ever does.
Today finds him restlessly shuffling things around in his own domain. Normally he'd find it soothing, but one particular drawer in his desk he knows exists but has remained locked just as it is at home with its contents deliberately kept shut away has been pulling at his mind more and more. Especially so given what's happened recently; it's another thing Claude's started to wonder whether it was a misstep in keeping them hidden while the rest of what was there was discovered.
A walk will clear his mind, he decides, and rather than heading out into the Horizon proper - next door to the monastery it is. He walks the paths without any particular aim beyond looping through walkways less traveled, through this room or that building, until he looks out to the edge and realizes: there's something new there.
At first and from far away, he almost thinks it's the creation from someone just arrived. But closer and when he's at the edge of the fields looking at the lake, the cottage, the whole scene before him, it suddenly fits with glimpses of a territory he's mainly seen from above on wyvernback and peering down to the ground before. Claude steps forward onto what's leading towards a cottage which must be somewhere in Goneril, and with a smile on his face even as a light snow starts to fall to go and see if its owner is here. ]
Today finds him restlessly shuffling things around in his own domain. Normally he'd find it soothing, but one particular drawer in his desk he knows exists but has remained locked just as it is at home with its contents deliberately kept shut away has been pulling at his mind more and more. Especially so given what's happened recently; it's another thing Claude's started to wonder whether it was a misstep in keeping them hidden while the rest of what was there was discovered.
A walk will clear his mind, he decides, and rather than heading out into the Horizon proper - next door to the monastery it is. He walks the paths without any particular aim beyond looping through walkways less traveled, through this room or that building, until he looks out to the edge and realizes: there's something new there.
At first and from far away, he almost thinks it's the creation from someone just arrived. But closer and when he's at the edge of the fields looking at the lake, the cottage, the whole scene before him, it suddenly fits with glimpses of a territory he's mainly seen from above on wyvernback and peering down to the ground before. Claude steps forward onto what's leading towards a cottage which must be somewhere in Goneril, and with a smile on his face even as a light snow starts to fall to go and see if its owner is here. ]
[ A year in Abraxas means a year away from home. Days had passed since the date of her actual arrival but she still didn't know how she felt about it. Hilda doesn't often pay much mind to the passage of time in such sobering terms; she tries to live in the present as much as possible to avoid worrying about the future or feeling guilty about the past, but being pulled away from everything she once knew certainly had a way of changing that. Perhaps that's why she finds herself retreating back to her domain to think about how she feels being so far away from home for so long - amongst other things that is.
Her domain seems to sense her melancholy state. It's still bright in her domain, but the clouds obscure the sign, painting things in a slightly grey light and there's snow covering the flowers that sleep beneath it. The pond outside has frozen over and Mogwry had had to pull in the little tea set from the patio before that too was covered in a light dusting of snow.
When the door swings open it isn't Hilda like Claude may expect however. Instead, there's a small, tiny creature with little wings, what looks like a giant pom pom on its head carrying a broom. He tilts his head curiously at Claude before he speaks. Oh. You're that guy, kupo. Pretty bold of you to show up here.
Before he has a chance to expand on what he means by that, a voice from somewhere in the cottage calls out, overlaying with the sound of footsteps. Hilda comes into view a moment later, dressed down in a white shift and an oversized light pink knit cardigan. Ever since her "sleepover" in Wanda's domain, she had taken to dressing more casually here with her hair down and looser clothing because she had no one to impress, no one to see. Upon seeing Claude however she halts several metres from the door. ]
Mogwry, who's - oh.
[ Pink colours her cheeks more in surprise than anything else but she doesn't dwell on it. The corners of her lips tug upwards slightly. ]
You do know that we share a loft, right? You don't have to visit me here.
Her domain seems to sense her melancholy state. It's still bright in her domain, but the clouds obscure the sign, painting things in a slightly grey light and there's snow covering the flowers that sleep beneath it. The pond outside has frozen over and Mogwry had had to pull in the little tea set from the patio before that too was covered in a light dusting of snow.
When the door swings open it isn't Hilda like Claude may expect however. Instead, there's a small, tiny creature with little wings, what looks like a giant pom pom on its head carrying a broom. He tilts his head curiously at Claude before he speaks. Oh. You're that guy, kupo. Pretty bold of you to show up here.
Before he has a chance to expand on what he means by that, a voice from somewhere in the cottage calls out, overlaying with the sound of footsteps. Hilda comes into view a moment later, dressed down in a white shift and an oversized light pink knit cardigan. Ever since her "sleepover" in Wanda's domain, she had taken to dressing more casually here with her hair down and looser clothing because she had no one to impress, no one to see. Upon seeing Claude however she halts several metres from the door. ]
Mogwry, who's - oh.
[ Pink colours her cheeks more in surprise than anything else but she doesn't dwell on it. The corners of her lips tug upwards slightly. ]
You do know that we share a loft, right? You don't have to visit me here.
[ Left at Hilda's home is a colorful set of heels that he made for her. They have the level of heel that he knows she prefers to wear. He also got a bottle of her favorite alcoholic beverage, whatever it is.]
This is not a design for anyone else but you. Thank you for being my work partner, here's to our business ventures!
-Jesper
This is not a design for anyone else but you. Thank you for being my work partner, here's to our business ventures!
-Jesper
[ Yes, his message includes the @. Please don't question it. ]
@Hilda, are you going to be in Nocwich in the next few days? I have something for you for you.
[ The "something" in question is actually two, small, almost perfect wild pearls. ]
@Hilda, are you going to be in Nocwich in the next few days? I have something for you for you.
[ The "something" in question is actually two, small, almost perfect wild pearls. ]
[ She's gonna question it. ]
𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦? 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘺𝘦𝘴.
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭? 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦. @?
@@@@@?
𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦? 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘺𝘦𝘴.
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭? 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦. @?
@@@@@?
i'm actually wheezing this is such a one brain cell conversation
theidlemaiden
- 2023-12-20 07:01 (UTC) - Expand[ Sometime mid-month, Hilda will find left on her bed two large wrapped packages and an envelope. The first wrapped box holds an ornate tea set, the cups of which form a heart with the liquid inside when filled. Accompanying it are two large tins of freshly blended tea leaves, one a mimicry of Albinean Berry Blend and the other a familiar Rose Petal Blend.
The second box contains a large charmed picnic basket, designed to keep the food inside fresh for a length of time. Inside of it, she'll find an array of freshly-baked and decorated treats, all for her. (There's a definite theme running here)
Finally, the envelope holds a pair of tickets to one of the exclusive spas in Aquila and a reservation card for one of the nicer restaurants there, to be filled out at and cashed in at her leisure. Underneath is a short note in Sylvain's familiar handwriting. ]
I wasn't sure what to get you for this festival season, since obviously jewelry and/or clothes are straight out. Flowers never last very long and also we already have too many of those on the terrace anyway. Have to hope this will suffice and that you enjoy your treats. I tried to find ones as sweet as you.
Let me know when you'd like to take a trip to Aquila. I'm looking forward to some time together. Even if you will probably make me take another bath in mud.
~ Sylvain
The second box contains a large charmed picnic basket, designed to keep the food inside fresh for a length of time. Inside of it, she'll find an array of freshly-baked and decorated treats, all for her. (There's a definite theme running here)
Finally, the envelope holds a pair of tickets to one of the exclusive spas in Aquila and a reservation card for one of the nicer restaurants there, to be filled out at and cashed in at her leisure. Underneath is a short note in Sylvain's familiar handwriting. ]
I wasn't sure what to get you for this festival season, since obviously jewelry and/or clothes are straight out. Flowers never last very long and also we already have too many of those on the terrace anyway. Have to hope this will suffice and that you enjoy your treats. I tried to find ones as sweet as you.
Let me know when you'd like to take a trip to Aquila. I'm looking forward to some time together. Even if you will probably make me take another bath in mud.
~ Sylvain
Edited 2023-12-17 20:42 (UTC)
( The package that arrives for Hilda is small, wrapped in cloth and tied in twine. Inside she'll find a small fragment of intricately carved bone hung from a string as a charm, and a note written in a careful hand. )
Hilda,
I couldn't find something in Solvunn that would suit what I assume is your style -- forgive the rustic nature of the charm, and feel free to hide it on your person. The spell carved into it is 'Shield' -- should you be attacked, simply say 'macte virtute' and a magical barrier will spring up around you, lasting at most a minute, and protecting you from the triggering attack and any other until it is broken or your concentration wavers.
May it help you if you should ever find yourself in over your head,
- Haelva
[the package arrives via courier to hilda's place of residence. it is wrapped plainly, tied with blue-dyed twine and a sprig of bloomed iris. an engraved hatchet is in the package, along with a note written in an elegant script:]
For one who blends beauty and strength without equal.
-Diana
For one who blends beauty and strength without equal.
-Diana
( Inside a small package from Thorne are five pieces of fabric, clearly meant to tie hair back from one's face. Four are clearly themed after the seasons, with embroidery to match: snowflakes, bright green plants, ocean waves and the sun, and falling leaves. The fifth is a complimentary shade of pink-red, in order to work well with Hilda's hair, and embroidered with delicate flowers. )
Keep well, Hilda.
- Jill
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