![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[the package is non-descript, but it's definitely big enough to pique the curiosity of the recipient as to open it as soon as possible. it's been checked through, tied up back into its box after the fact. inside, an amount of homemade goods have been stacked atop each other: teas, soaps, and moisturizing lotions. this would already spell out who it is from, if a similar package has been received, in the past.
a neat box lies at the bottom, though, and once unwrapped, it'll reveal a set of hair adornments, in a baby blue tone. it is likely that they have been stitched by hand.
a small note sits under the box.]
a neat box lies at the bottom, though, and once unwrapped, it'll reveal a set of hair adornments, in a baby blue tone. it is likely that they have been stitched by hand.
a small note sits under the box.]
Happy Winter Solstice.
𝓦anda 𝓜aximoff
[Viktor's packages arrive in plain brown paper, the wax seal indicating the sender--though she's probably more than familiar with the insignia by now.
He's not an artisan, necessarily, but that's the kind of thing she appreciates, so he's done his best here, putting his own sorts of embellishments on the brooch that he fashions for her. Upon examination, she'll find a hidden compartment--Viktor seems to defer to her, when it comes to what she might store inside it.
Given her current business endeavors, a sewing machine might be useful. It's possible he's taken whatever rudimentary model is available in the Free Cities and improved upon it vastly, increasing the efficiency of it while reducing the size, to something that can comfortably fit on a small square of tabletop.
And, finally, he's included a clockwork scale model of their automaton. When wound, it gives a little wave.]
He's not an artisan, necessarily, but that's the kind of thing she appreciates, so he's done his best here, putting his own sorts of embellishments on the brooch that he fashions for her. Upon examination, she'll find a hidden compartment--Viktor seems to defer to her, when it comes to what she might store inside it.
Given her current business endeavors, a sewing machine might be useful. It's possible he's taken whatever rudimentary model is available in the Free Cities and improved upon it vastly, increasing the efficiency of it while reducing the size, to something that can comfortably fit on a small square of tabletop.
And, finally, he's included a clockwork scale model of their automaton. When wound, it gives a little wave.]
[ As there's no Christmas to be celebrated (and considering Blake is a lapsed Catholic), the gift for Hilda arrives some time on or after the winter celebrations. Much like the small handful of gifts he'd given out, Hilda's is a product of his latest obsession: Leatherworking.
He's been perfecting gloves. It's a difficult craft, especially gauging the correct sizes for people without a proper fitting, but with a button and some careful calculation (or paying local makers for insider information), he's been able to create something resembling quality that typically don't need re-sized.
Hilda's gloves are a pair dyed a pale pink, each finger cropped short to make them fingerless. Blake had sourced the dye color himself, making sure that he adding a supplemental dye on the cooler spectrum to bring the color to life in the way he'd imagined it. The leather, saved from a hunted animal, is as free of flaws as possible and remains both supple and durable. The seams are reinforced, and he's carefully embossed a crawling vine of flowers around the wrist to give it the appropriate flare. ]
Hil,
There aren't words enough to express how deeply grateful I am for the friendship we share. I've made these gloves with your weapon in mind and would love to tailor them more appropriately should the need arise; nothing but the best for my incredible wife.
[ He doesn't sign the note, but doesn't suspect he needs to. How many "husbands" could she have? Unfortunately, he doesn't show his face when it's delivered to Hilda's doorstep, either, mostly because he feels like he's been both a bad fake husband and a bad not-fake friend. ]
He's been perfecting gloves. It's a difficult craft, especially gauging the correct sizes for people without a proper fitting, but with a button and some careful calculation (or paying local makers for insider information), he's been able to create something resembling quality that typically don't need re-sized.
Hilda's gloves are a pair dyed a pale pink, each finger cropped short to make them fingerless. Blake had sourced the dye color himself, making sure that he adding a supplemental dye on the cooler spectrum to bring the color to life in the way he'd imagined it. The leather, saved from a hunted animal, is as free of flaws as possible and remains both supple and durable. The seams are reinforced, and he's carefully embossed a crawling vine of flowers around the wrist to give it the appropriate flare. ]
Hil,
There aren't words enough to express how deeply grateful I am for the friendship we share. I've made these gloves with your weapon in mind and would love to tailor them more appropriately should the need arise; nothing but the best for my incredible wife.
[ He doesn't sign the note, but doesn't suspect he needs to. How many "husbands" could she have? Unfortunately, he doesn't show his face when it's delivered to Hilda's doorstep, either, mostly because he feels like he's been both a bad fake husband and a bad not-fake friend. ]
[Jayden leaves the gift at whatever the equivalent of the loft's mailbox is, mostly so he can avoid any conversations, sure that whoever of the house picks up the mail will make sure it gets to Hilda. The small, gauzy pink bag holds a white box, which contains four pastel and gold butterfly hair clips. A small card is contained with them, describing how to activate the enchantment that will make the wings flap gracefully.
Also included is a short note from Jayden.]
Hilda,
Hopefully you'll like these. If not, maybe you can incorporate them into some sort of fashion piece, make some money, and then buy something you do like.
[Even though it's a written note, hopefully it still comes through that he's both joking and totally serious. As long as she gets something she likes in the end, that's what matters.]
Also included is a short note from Jayden.]
Hilda,
Hopefully you'll like these. If not, maybe you can incorporate them into some sort of fashion piece, make some money, and then buy something you do like.
[Even though it's a written note, hopefully it still comes through that he's both joking and totally serious. As long as she gets something she likes in the end, that's what matters.]
Hypothetically speaking, how quickly could you make one of those giant cutouts like you did back when Jayce, Sam, and I gave that speech about the portal?
The Offices of Pankratz and Ţepeş
On the evening of 3 February at 6 o'clock
for a private dinner.
Menu
‡ Selection of fruits, cured meats, and cheeses
‡ Salad with goat cheese, candied nuts, dried cranberries, and vinaigrette
‡ Roasted pheasant with herbs over rice
‡ Roasted red peppers stuffed zacuscă
‡ Stuffed eggplant
‡ Chocolate roll cake with chocolate ganache, raspberry jam, and whipped cream
‡ Wines
‡ Selection of fine teas
Please alert Alucard to any changes you would like made to the menu, as well as information regarding your attendance and preferred dress code.
[ One morning in December after Claude's slipped out of bed to leave its slumbering occupant(s) behind, some packages will appear at the foot of Hilda's bed. They aren't easy to miss in their bright wrapping paper of pinks and deep reds with sparkles engrained within the paper and the ribbons around it all.
When picked up, the first box might make a small noise like glass clinking together. Which is fitting considering what it contains: various vials of different flowers preserved in oils, with what's in them being a variety of highly scented ones from around Abraxas. There's ones from the Free Cities, ones from Solvunn, and quite a few from Nocwich - all which were cultivated in their own rooftop garden amidst Claude's other plants. Along with those are empty perfume bottles should Hilda like to try creating her own.
The next package is a box which when opened contains a couple of finely bound journals and sketchbooks in different sizes, including one small enough to be slipped into a pocket for quick notes and ones large enough for detailed plans to be drawn with room for notes. A set of stationary also awaits, and a set of crystal-handled wax stamps embossed with her initials for any and all notes or letters she might like to send.
But what awaits atop it all is a blown glass transparent and lightly tinted pink vase, and what's in it isn't flowers. Instead it's bundles of pencils, markers, charcoals, pastels, and pencils; each have been separated out by colors and bound together, and each splayed slightly to resemble flowers as they form a rainbow of blooms of different heights and sizes within. Green ribbons curl around the base of each and spill out of the vase in the illusion of leaves.
At the base of it rests an envelope with Hilda's name on it, and a letter inside:
When picked up, the first box might make a small noise like glass clinking together. Which is fitting considering what it contains: various vials of different flowers preserved in oils, with what's in them being a variety of highly scented ones from around Abraxas. There's ones from the Free Cities, ones from Solvunn, and quite a few from Nocwich - all which were cultivated in their own rooftop garden amidst Claude's other plants. Along with those are empty perfume bottles should Hilda like to try creating her own.
![vials of different flowers](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/71/36/43/713643173faa927fd6087e71a1428f27.jpg"){kind=link}
The next package is a box which when opened contains a couple of finely bound journals and sketchbooks in different sizes, including one small enough to be slipped into a pocket for quick notes and ones large enough for detailed plans to be drawn with room for notes. A set of stationary also awaits, and a set of crystal-handled wax stamps embossed with her initials for any and all notes or letters she might like to send.
But what awaits atop it all is a blown glass transparent and lightly tinted pink vase, and what's in it isn't flowers. Instead it's bundles of pencils, markers, charcoals, pastels, and pencils; each have been separated out by colors and bound together, and each splayed slightly to resemble flowers as they form a rainbow of blooms of different heights and sizes within. Green ribbons curl around the base of each and spill out of the vase in the illusion of leaves.
At the base of it rests an envelope with Hilda's name on it, and a letter inside:
Hilda—In addition to that, when Hilda walks into her bathroom next she'll find a basket full of freshly laundered towels, her robes the same, and a vibrantly flowering desert flower in the window. Just because. ]
I don't think there will ever be enough words for what this year has been. For what it's meant, through all of the lowest times and the far better ones, and for the fact that at the end of it all I find you still here all the same. Something that which I'm not always convinced I deserve, but something I'll strive to make it certain that I do.
There was a long time in my life before I met you that I'd convinced myself of that being alone would be worth it if it meant accomplishing what I'd set out to do. I meant to keep to that because I'd told myself over and over it was easier. To say that you changed that is an understatement of the highest degree, and there's no more picturing doing any of those things on my own. Not for years now, and hopefully not for the years to come.
In the meantime, at least, there's this as a fraction of what you deserve and more. And the more - that I intend to deliver on yet.
—Claude.
[ On the morning of Hilda's birthday, there won't be any waking up early or accidently jostling her into wakefulness before she's ready to wake up. And when she does, there'll be a mug of her favorite tea waiting on her nightstand sitting on a coaster, one of a set enchanted to keep whatever is placed on them at the perfect temperature for drinking without burning one's mouth. A plate with a few of her favorite pastries from a bakery nearby is next to the tea, along with the teapot itself ready for refills for her breakfast.
A bouquet of anemones from Claire's plants growing in their garden supplemented with more of Cadens' own flowers interspersed between the familiar from Fodlan blooms rests on her desk along with two bundles. The first is a luxurious bathrobe slightly oversized and perfect for lounging in. The second is a matching set of plush slippers with considerable cushion - perfect for wearing around on chilly mornings or while enjoying some of her own spa treatments at home.
Possibly predictably, there's also a couple of envelopes. One contains an ornate piece of parchment embossed and detailed with silvers and golds to look like a very expensive ticket. Curiously, however, it's mostly blank aside from having Hilda's name written on it but as for what it's for? That might require a question or two. The other envelope contains a letter in neat script:
A bouquet of anemones from Claire's plants growing in their garden supplemented with more of Cadens' own flowers interspersed between the familiar from Fodlan blooms rests on her desk along with two bundles. The first is a luxurious bathrobe slightly oversized and perfect for lounging in. The second is a matching set of plush slippers with considerable cushion - perfect for wearing around on chilly mornings or while enjoying some of her own spa treatments at home.
Possibly predictably, there's also a couple of envelopes. One contains an ornate piece of parchment embossed and detailed with silvers and golds to look like a very expensive ticket. Curiously, however, it's mostly blank aside from having Hilda's name written on it but as for what it's for? That might require a question or two. The other envelope contains a letter in neat script:
Happy Birthday, Hilda—At the promised time he'll return to the loft in time to find Hilda getting ready with a greeting of a kiss on the cheek before seeking out an actual kiss that's equal parts affection and distraction. The distraction's for one less surprise present he has left: enough time to withdraw a necklace from his pocket and to drape it around her neck to fasten it with a grin at her in the mirror. With it might come with an apology for getting a necklace from another jeweler so as to not have her create her own birthday present, but it's the thought that counts. Right? ]
Another year in Abraxas, and in some ways it feels like I was writing a birthday message for you like this one far more recently than it really was. A lot's happened since then - some of it not so great, but lately it's been anything but that. You're a bright spot in my life, and one I hope shines forever.
In the past year I've watched you take on a multitude of things and created all sorts of projects to further what you want to build, and that's before getting into everything you've been doing with the Hall. You lead with knowledge and ambition even when you insist you don't (and don't think I can't imagine you wrinkling your brows and protesting this even while reading it) and you've inspired so many others to take part in what you do. They believe in you as much as I do, and there's no limit to what you'll accomplish next when you set your mind to it.
That includes whatever we might come up with next, of course, since I'm counting on there being all sorts for which we might have some lost time to make up for. Again I'm fortunate to call you my best friend and now more, and lucky to get to stand by your side.
Here's to another year and all the things you'll do. I look forward to seeing them all.
—Claude.
PS — If you're wondering what the ticket is for, it's for you to choose exactly what you want it to be for whether that's dinner somewhere, a show in any of the cities, or another weekend getaway. Or anything else since that's why it's blank: you name what you want to use it for and consider your wish granted.
PPS — save your lunch hour for me as I've got a plan to take you out somewhere nicer than our usual cafes.
Hiiii it's Julia.
So I was like, you don't have any girlfriends to gossip with, but then I was like, Hilda could be! And I want to gossip with SOMEONE so I pick you Pikachu. (Long story.)
I'm in a relationship with the Doctor now and I'm really excited about it so I had to yell at someone.
So I was like, you don't have any girlfriends to gossip with, but then I was like, Hilda could be! And I want to gossip with SOMEONE so I pick you Pikachu. (Long story.)
I'm in a relationship with the Doctor now and I'm really excited about it so I had to yell at someone.
I have a commission for you on the jewelry front, if there is time available in your schedule.
[he's typically not the most social of creatures but there's been a few connections from a false reality that he knows he needs to foster]
Got any ideas?
[ To say the return had been turbulent in some ways - that'd be an understatement. It'd taken Claude some time to process... well, not all of it, as has become apparent the longer he's been lost in his thoughts piecing it together as things had returned to some measure of stability for as much as they could. And more than that: this isn't something he should work on doing by himself. The past has taught him that much. For all the mistakes he's made, both actually lived and in those years which felt all too real as if they were ones made here, there are many he doesn't wish to repeat ever again.
But: the years in which they've known each other and all that time spent circling around truths with himself no exception as the mastermind of setting so many of them in motion, it won't be as simple as that.
It's a matter of waiting for the right moment, even as the more time which ticks by it feels more and more urgent. The sort of thing which starts to keep him awake at nights - nights just like this one with Hilda tucked against him with her back to his chest and an arm draped around her waist and where there's no reason he shouldn't be asleep. Not even with his habit of being awake at odd hours or even with the first warm nights creeping into Cadens; Claude's slept plenty on any night just like this. Then again, so has Hilda - and asleep she certainly isn't either.
He could pretend to not notice. That'd be a disservice to them both and he knows it as he leans down to press one slow kiss after another along the line of her shoulder trailing towards her neck with the words in between murmured against her skin. ]
You're managing to think even louder than I am right now.
But: the years in which they've known each other and all that time spent circling around truths with himself no exception as the mastermind of setting so many of them in motion, it won't be as simple as that.
It's a matter of waiting for the right moment, even as the more time which ticks by it feels more and more urgent. The sort of thing which starts to keep him awake at nights - nights just like this one with Hilda tucked against him with her back to his chest and an arm draped around her waist and where there's no reason he shouldn't be asleep. Not even with his habit of being awake at odd hours or even with the first warm nights creeping into Cadens; Claude's slept plenty on any night just like this. Then again, so has Hilda - and asleep she certainly isn't either.
He could pretend to not notice. That'd be a disservice to them both and he knows it as he leans down to press one slow kiss after another along the line of her shoulder trailing towards her neck with the words in between murmured against her skin. ]
You're managing to think even louder than I am right now.
[ It was chaos. Sylvain’s pretty sure every single Summoned in all the Factions had to be reeling right now. He was no exception. He felt dazed. Almost like he was in shock. Could you even get shock from something like this?
For a while after they’d returned - awoken? - he’d stared off into nothing, mind whirling with what he remembered. What he’d lived - or thought he’d lived - and what that meant. What had happened. And what hadn’t.
Never, in a million years, would he have been able to predict that future. Not even in his most optimistic dreams. His fate, his luck, it had never worked like that.
But after too long of his mind spinning itself in circles, he knew he was getting nowhere. But unsure where to start, he found himself drifting towards the one space that still felt… safe.
Because he could still feel her. And even though she felt just as confused as he did, just that awareness of her at the edge of his senses was comforting in itself.
He found himself outside her door, hesitating, a little unsure of his welcome, torn between finding that foolish and a matter of course. But hiding in the hallway was going to answer nothing, so he knocked softly on her door and poked his head in. ]
Hilda…?
For a while after they’d returned - awoken? - he’d stared off into nothing, mind whirling with what he remembered. What he’d lived - or thought he’d lived - and what that meant. What had happened. And what hadn’t.
Never, in a million years, would he have been able to predict that future. Not even in his most optimistic dreams. His fate, his luck, it had never worked like that.
But after too long of his mind spinning itself in circles, he knew he was getting nowhere. But unsure where to start, he found himself drifting towards the one space that still felt… safe.
Because he could still feel her. And even though she felt just as confused as he did, just that awareness of her at the edge of his senses was comforting in itself.
He found himself outside her door, hesitating, a little unsure of his welcome, torn between finding that foolish and a matter of course. But hiding in the hallway was going to answer nothing, so he knocked softly on her door and poked his head in. ]
Hilda…?
Hilda? I saw someone say Cadens is under attack, are you okay?
I'm going to the beach.
[ this is an invitation. its a BAD invitation. but its an invitation.
he understands if she doesn't want to go, after their disastrous last trip to the beach in the god dream, but. still. ]
[ this is an invitation. its a BAD invitation. but its an invitation.
he understands if she doesn't want to go, after their disastrous last trip to the beach in the god dream, but. still. ]
Edited (fuck me ) 2024-08-05 01:53 (UTC)
Hey girl hey.
I'm going to be MIA for a little while. I was arrested and put in the mining camp. I left a whole bunch of finished projects though at the store.
I'm going to be MIA for a little while. I was arrested and put in the mining camp. I left a whole bunch of finished projects though at the store.
[ continue from here. ]
( It takes Kaveh a little longer than he'd like to find the address he'd been given, considering he's still getting used to the city itself. It's beautiful in its own way, certainly, but he still finds himself turning around now and again.
But! He manages, and then knocks once and then once more just in case. )
Hilda? It's Kaveh--
( It takes Kaveh a little longer than he'd like to find the address he'd been given, considering he's still getting used to the city itself. It's beautiful in its own way, certainly, but he still finds himself turning around now and again.
But! He manages, and then knocks once and then once more just in case. )
Hilda? It's Kaveh--
[ Considering the chaos everywhere, even after the Free Cities' 'victory' took the fearful edge off of the war for most of the citizens (for now), Ciri's been kept quite busy. She's kept herself quite busy, to be honest, and there's no shortage of supplies to deliver, merchants to escort, bodyguard jobs and fetch quests. Between that and the changes at home with John's arrival taking up most of her time and energy, eventually, her friends might start to think she's ignoring them. She didn't mean to.
She's been thinking about that conversation with Claude. About Hilda. (Maybe she was avoiding it a little bit.) She's just not very good at this. ]
Hilda? Hope I'm not interrupting.
She's been thinking about that conversation with Claude. About Hilda. (Maybe she was avoiding it a little bit.) She's just not very good at this. ]
Hilda? Hope I'm not interrupting.
Page 2 of 3