[open] SOMNUS & YOU, catch-all feb

[luciing]

🧙 WHO: Somnus and YOU
⚔️️ WHAT: Open quests, TDM prompts, etc.
🕒 WHEN: around feb
🗺️ WHERE: errwhere
⚠️ WARNINGS: none

Cupid's Arrow Beta Testing

[ What is the purpose of such quests? An enchantment to cause another to fall is reckless, dangerous, even. But that doesn't mean he won't be watching as the arrows are distributed. Eventually, and with a solemn mien not fit for any feelings of affection (enchanted or otherwise), he decides to take up the quest with explicit intention to not fulfil it. Taking a potentially enchanted arrow from the quest-giver means one less another might use against someone.

Now he stands and walks with an arrow in hand down one of the cobblestone streets, his eyes keen on its sharp, spell-doused tip.

Enter you, at an ill-advised moment or angle-- perhaps a carriage is rushing down the street, too, or a man wheelbarrowing a stack of hay shouts for you to move out of the way and into Somnus' path. Somnus deftly side-steps the encounter, nimbly twirling the shaft of the arrow between his fingers to prevent it from harming you-- only to be pricked by it himself....

When the commotion ends, Somnus stands still. His free hand rises up, slowly, to press his palm to the slight-left of his upper chest. It's a tender motion, self-steadying as if something suddenly weighs upon him, but delicate as if he’s holding something fragile within. He looks at you, ashen and solemn. For once, emotion flickers across his normally stony expression.

This. This is a great, incomprehensible, and terrible pain. ]

Training Grounds:

[ Ever since his arrival, he's been cut off from the birthright-magic of of his Line. As such, he has neither pocket-dimension armory nor Armiger. Unable to house it within the metaphysical space of crystalline, divine magic. and Somnus has still yet to find a proper sheath for his blade. Which means... he might as well exercise his new, kinetic magic with it.

Find him wielding his sword remotely through kinesis, practicing various forms as if if a specter were swinging it only meters from where he stands. Occasionally, he'll attempt to kinetically lift another weapon into his practice. ]

Sync or Swim

A: [ He trusts those insofar who are interested at exploring the potential and boundaries of their magic, and so if you are a like-minded professional and should you have agreed to accompany him, he enters the ritual tent with you. On his part, it appears he's neither flighty nor awkward, but grim and serious as usual. He's fought many battles with men he's known for less than a month before-- and when presented with a common goal (whether that of defeating daemons or this), he knows that success can be possible just with that.

He also has known for some time that one is never strongest when alone.

With the paint applied, they are ready to commence the dance. Somnus holds up his hand to you, his pale, calloused palm facing outward and awaiting yours to join it, prepared for the first touch and the initiating circle. The dim lighting of the tent casts shadows, accenting the severity of his expression, yet the amber glow of the candles seems to simultaneously soften the normally sharp blue of his gaze. His voice, strong and deep, announces, ] Let us begin.

[ (Note that if new CR, assume names have been exchanged!) ]

B: [ Whether success or failure, Somnus can be found after any attempts at the ritual by the prismatic bonfire afterward, looking upon the fire with a complex expression. The flames flicker, dancing in his eyes. Perhaps they even cast a nostalgic light. ]

Save a Beast, Kill a Man

[ He looks upon the quest board app with some amount of interest for the last one. (Thankfully, he's read up on what selkies are.) To anyone who also happens to be randomly standing nearby also reading the latest update on their quests: ] Are such unions lawful in this realm?

[ Not only does it seem to be a marriage between a fae-creature and man, it's obviously one of forced marriage where the requester is openly asking for murder. Is that also not frowned upon? ]

Wildcard

[ Wildcard any of the above prompts here, DM me Jade294#6977 or PP me at drinksteapots! I'm okay with repeating multiple prompts. ]

Comments

training grounds

[schmisse]

[ Someone who has the same idea as her! Well, Weiss has never put wielding her rapier with her kinetic magic into practice just yet, but it's definitely something she's keeping under wraps for now. It's gonna be such a great surprise for those who... well, know how she fights. There's no one but one person familiar with it here. (That's unfortunate.)

Still, she can't help but feel a little proud that there's someone else doing what she thought of. And she can't also help but think: great minds think alike.

For now, her rapier is magnetically clipped to her side. She approaches, her footsteps growing more audible as she becomes closer. Not to invade personal space, but just enough to talk. ]

How long have you been training?

[luciing]

[ Hearing her footsteps before she announces herself, Somnus slows and finishes off an series of swings with an elegant, oblique-upward cleave. The decorated blade hums with its final move through the air, halting abruptly as he wordlessly summons it to the ground. His hand, mildly raised in practice of controlling the blade, falls back to his side, causing his dark cloak to rustle as it disappears beneath.

Somnus turns his head to look at the stranger, body pivoting slightly to point a shoulder at her angle of approach. His expression could be anything: seriousness, bored, or determined, but whatever it is, it doesn't translate to his hardened, (unfortunately naturally) cold tone.

Of course, he hadn't expected company. ] No more than others upon these grounds. [ The rapier at her hip doesn't go unnoticed. As for his black blade, it remains hovering by his side, nearly three quarters of his height. ]

Do you seek this space to practice?

[schmisse]

That was the plan, but I'd rather not make you leave because I need to use the space.

[ This is, after all, a free-for-all area. None of the training spaces are owned by Weiss, and she's learned throughout the years of being with her teammates the importance of caring, sharing, and being a nice person in general.

Courteous as ever, despite the man's cold delivery. Weiss can be rather cold, herself, but she finds no reason to be at this time. ]

I only asked because you're doing what I'd wanted to do, at some point.

[luciing]

[ Releasing some of the magic that holds the sword afloat, he lowers his blade further, allowing its tip to sheath within the ice-covered ground. It might seem like an improper way to treat a sword, but he carries no scabbard.

He has yet to find a smithy to commission a sheath to house his sword. ]

Can you not lift your own blade?

Cupid's Arrow

[inemeraldfaith]

["Move!"

She barely has time to. What was she even doing? Wandering aimlessly. Still learning the ins and outs of Camelot. Somnus plays the saviour either way, even if she's not fully aware of it. She knocks right into him in the midst of avoiding potential collision.

It's as she's dusting herself off that she finds her attention settling back on him. Always playing the part of the gentleman it seems.]

Wow. Sorry about that. [But she's warm and welcoming as she ever tends to be.] I didn't hit you too hard, did I?

[What's that look he has? He doesn't look as cold as he normally does. Maybe he's still getting over the shock himself.]

[luciing]

[ He is in shock, alright, suddenly at the mere sight of her.

A gripping, powerful shock that threatens to overturn his balance before her— ....metaphorically, of course, because he’s as still as ice as the town continues to bustle around them. Except, all is silent to his ears save for her words, and all else is out of focus but for the soft lips that speak them.

Somnus wrenches his head away, brow lowering in what may either be disgust or frustration, his eyes dark as the hand upon his chest shifts from palm to fist, gripping the fabric of his cloak as if to stifle himself. He feels a resounding thump within, powerful enough to make it seem as if the ground is threatening to crack and give way to a void beneath him.

This feeling is unnatural. Yet... ]

Hail, ....Healer. [ He dares not call her by her name.

He should leave, but he doesn’t. Without looking at her—- but with the cracks of his expression giving way to conflict—- he speaks. ]

Are you hurt?

[inemeraldfaith]

[...Is he ever going to call her something other than titles? 'Healer' is a bit of a new one, she supposes, encouraging her to cock an eyebrow. It's never really insulting, just... strange.

Funny, actually.]

How many times do I have to tell you?

[She shakes her head at him. He's so stubborn, like some kids she's known. He's lucky he's with someone as nice as her because some people wouldn't tolerate that at all.

There's something else there. Something kind of intense about the way he's looking at her. Maybe it's not 'intense.' Aerith can't put a name to it, but there's something decisively different about him.

At his question, she examines herself.]

Mmmmnnnope! Right as rain. Nothing to worry about, okay? I should have been paying attention.

[luciing]

[ She isn’t hurt. Fortunate, he thinks, but it provides little relief. It’s in the few moments she takes to assess herself that Somnus uses to regain some of his composure. He straightens, lowering his hand from his chest to smooth out the front of his robes. Unfortunately, some strain in his shoulders remains.

Movement catches in the periphery of his sight: more carriages make their way down the street. They shouldn’t remain standing near so busy of an intersection. ] Come. [ He bids her, stepping away from the street and slush of snow and allowing her to walk along the inner sidewalk. Would that he could lead her some place more peaceful than this... but perhaps he can escort her to wherever she had intended to go in the first place. Perhaps that would be enough to satisfy this suddenly selfish emotion, and then he can depart.

Beneath his cloak, his hand twitches at side. ]

Have you errands to attend?

[inemeraldfaith]

[He ushers her away from what could likely turn into more enthralling adventures on the dangerous side and though she's not personally concerned about being run over by a carriage (because naturally she should be trying to actively avoid that), she decides to play along. He's showing some concern, which is not entirely new. He was that way when they arrived, after all. She remembers fondly the cloak he retrieved for her.

Not the most conversational man, but a very kind one.

She follows along at his side, humming a nonsensical song that seems to have no rhyme or reason for being, only that it is present at all while she tries to find a way to answer him.]

I don't know if I'd call it an errand. I think you might be a bit bored by it, though. You're welcome to come along anyway.

[Looking over to him, she continues.] I spoke with him. His Majesty, I mean. I grow flowers back where I come from and I wanted to do the same here. He seemed to support that. He said if I grew any, to arrange to have them taken to his... people, because they'd have a use for them. I'm looking around for what kinds of flower seeds might be available here.

[So she can have a flower shop. Simple pleasures for a seemingly simple girl, who is anything but simple.]

[luciing]

[ It seems his feet betray himself to this newfound feeling. Against all rational thought, walking with her.

She means to prepare flowers for the king and his people. Such gifts aren’t uncommon to royalty, and he would know. During his reign, the palace courtyards were filled with small fields of sylleblossoms, courtesy of the Oracle. But where would she purchase seeds during the dead of winter? The markets are their best bet, or if desperate, the apothecaries for seeds with which they may concoct. ]

To the market, then.

[ And so they proceed. Somnus is careful to keep his gaze fixed forward, yet it seems that he’s hyper aware of her presence— her warm demeanor, the cadence of her voice... Abruptly, he asks: ]

Will you be tending the garden on your own?

[inemeraldfaith]

[He'll come with her, then? Aerith makes no effort to hide how pleased she is by that, considering he's hardly seemed interested in spending extended time with her. Such is the case when it comes to such brooding and stoic individuals, she supposes.

Not that it's ever stopped her from annoying them into giving in.

At his question, her head tips and she peers sidelong to him.]

Hm... I kind of want to open a flower shop, so yes, I guess so? I want to grow a lot of flowers and make people smile with them. Although I wouldn't mind people helping me. Are you offering?

[luciing]

[ He has no business attending to any gardens, he's had no experience, and even as an ancient spirit, he's had no time to appreciate nature as it blooms--

But as chance happens, her sidelong glance towads him is met with one of his own, and in that moment their eyes meet. He sees the earth within them, prairies and spring and life and beauty, and at once, he's struck silent.

Somnus' eyes narrow at her, as if scorned. Rationally, he knows, this feeling isn't true. He's enchanted, yes; but he cannot stop it, which only feeds to guilt and powerlessness. Thus, all he feels is another pained, dull thump within his chest. A single word escapes, blasphemous: ]

Yes.

[inemeraldfaith]

[There's that look again. Aerith can't seem to figure out what it means or why he's giving it. She's usually the one with the imploring, prying gazes. When he gives her one of his own, it almost feels weighted. To be fair, Aerith doubts there's much with Somnus that isn't weighted in some fashion. He's a serious individual, obviously takes things seriously.

It makes his response all the more surprising to hear.]

Wow, really? [She does nothing to disguise the transparency in her expression.] I didn't take you as the sort to like flowers. I was actually pretty sure you were looking for reasons to avoid me. Why the sudden change?

[Sympathy, maybe?]

[luciing]

[ He has to maintain some semblance of control. That he would even try is laughable, given that the relinquished all control upon his death, but he must.

Now that they've stopped in their path, Somnus elevates his gaze to hers, searching her face but finding no answers to his quandaries. Hollowness settles in when he cautious himself for the third time that what this enchantment encourages, he cannot-- and should not-- harbor.

But his hand lifts, then, and his fingers dust tenderly across her cheek, correcting a strand of hair back to the sweep of her long bangs. His expression maintains its reticence, but his tone... there is something softer there, distant and mournful, even as his hand drops back down to his side. ]

Ask not, Healer.

[inemeraldfaith]

[It's an odd feeling, to have someone look at her so intensely. Sometimes, she's sure that Cloud has looked at her in the same way once or twice. The truth of what comes for her in a currently frozen world remains with her. A foreboding? It's something of that nature. An inevitability.

He leaves her with only more questions, more so when he fixes her hair for her. Instead of pressing him, which is no doubt a temptation, she only smiles.]

If you start calling me by my name, I'll let it go. You need some help saying it? It's super easy.

[She leans over to him right up into his personal space with a gleeful look.]

Say it with me, hmm? Aeriiiith. Not 'Healer.' Aerith. Not 'Maiden.' Aeriiiiiiith.

Sync or Swim

[colchismagecraft]

[Caster was wary of trusting the vast majority of people in Avalon - with the main exceptions being those she thought were easy for her to manipulate. But she also shared Somnus' curiosity in pushing the boundaries of her magic. It was similar to spells she'd used before coming here- but more than that, new rituals like this fuelled intellectual curiosity in her.

Once in the tent she laid her heavy cloak aside so the paint could be applied to her face and collarbone- and in that, even in the flickering light in the tent, Somnus would be able to see her face and the pointed tips to her ears. The Mage was certainly not an unattractive woman, by any means- but it came with the eyes of one who had long since burned through her reserves of grief and agony and was left with a twisted darkness and anger.

Her expression was...tired, more than anything else.]

Yes. Let us begin.

[Oh- as he prepared for the ritual, she couldn't help but notice the callouses on his palm. One who'd been in many battles, perhaps, as he did not seem a craftsman in nature. Hm, more questions, less answers- Come to think of it, she should remove her gloves for this, shouldn't she?

Placing them aside with her robe, she offered her own hand - one significantly smoother than his own - and rested her palm against his.]

[luciing]

[ Caster, the woman calls herself, and this is the first he's seen her without her heavy, hooded robe. Likewise, his own has been discarded in favor of the lighter chlamys and tunic he wears beneath, the wide cut of his collar pulled back to allow for decorative paint upon his skin (meaningless to him, but apparently a necessary component of the ritual itself). But as for the woman...

Her visage is softer than one would expect of someone who constantly shrouds themselves, and his eyes drift to the tips of her angled ears before locking back to hers. Then their palms touch, hers oddly without flaw, and he begins to step in a circular direction to his left, expecting her to follow with the turn, repeating the motion in the opposite path after they fulfill one circle. His gaze remains serious, steady upon her, all the while.

The spell requires a clear mind, and his is dedicated to it without flaw for the purpose of this is to succeed-- and perhaps to be closer to aiding this world, thereby being one step further to save his own ailing Star. There is no more needed focus than that, and as they proceed with the dance within the tent, their footsteps seem to follow a pattern that marks tides. Quietly, the shadows at the feet begin to stir, the energy beginning to bloom. Around them, the candlelight flickers.

The next part of the dance commences. He moves closer to her, expecting her to do the same should she have watched the tutorial, and drapes his hand to her waist. ]

[colchismagecraft]

[The key to this, she gathered, was being able to move in sync with her partner - and that required her to sense from his body language where he was going to move.

It wasn't as difficult as she thought.

She noticed the glance to her ears, but soon enough their eyes met again as she turned with him to follow the circle. First, around to the left, then switching hands to move around to the right. Her own gaze was steady- there was a vulnerability in it, yes, but her face showed a steady focus on the task at hand.

It was said to be an almost meditative spell- that the mindset used for prayer or meditation would clear their thoughts enough to carry out this magic. As such, her thoughts turn to Hecate, inwardly opening her mind to her guidance to conduct the flow of magic.

And the shadows start to shiver in the corners of her eyes.

She stepped closer with him, and her breath faltered as she felt the hand on her waist - a sharp intake of breath - but Caster steadied herself. It a formal dance, she'd rest her hand on his arm, but the spell called for her to mirror him. So, she rested her hand on his waist as well.

It felt a little strange, but she kept her eyes on his as they circled each other once again.]

[luciing]

[ The steps themselves are not so mesmerizing in of themselves, for they are mostly parts of a simple dance, yet the repetition aids in both concentrating and cleaning one's mind. As the magic stirs around them, he can begin to feel the prickle of the shadows' energy causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand.

Rather than being wary, this means that it's working.

Somnus' focus returns to her, his hand upon her waist, and hers upon his in return. Closer like this, he can spot the silhouette of his reflection in her eyes. As they proceed, the magic seems to tether them with, weaving the foundation of synchronicity between them.

"Of one mind, of one movement," the woman had said, and it seems that her words hold true. It becomes easier to recreate the dance with each and every step. Soon, they'll be mirroring each others' movements perfectly, as if both are controlling their own and each other's movements at once. They continue as such, one turn, another, out, then in-- and then, there--

Their shadow separate from them. The synchronic magic is complete.

Oddly, he remains in his spot, his palm lingering, pressed upon her back. His expression, while neutral, appears quietly contemplative as his gaze remains upon her. ]

[colchismagecraft]

[It was strange, seeing herself in his eyes, noticing it just as the connection between the two began to strengthen. Caster became aware of even their breathing falling into sync- no, not just that, each movement from the steps themselves right down to any little shift in their posture.

And she felt it, then, when they stopped and their shadows continued to move without them.

Such a strange feeling...without really being aware of it, she closed her fingers on his hand, hoping for that stability before he could pull away. She didn't want to speak, not yet, not sure if that would break the affect of the ritual, but she kept her gaze focused on him as well. It was a little distant, her mind otherwise occupying itself on feeling out the effects of the ritual

If she focused, it almost felt like she could direct her shadow as it continued its dance across the walls of the tent.]

[luciing]

[ With the spell cast reasonably their time within the tent should end, and they should part. He finds it curious, then, that there seems to be a new, foreign, and strange feeling that that insists that he should stand near. Perhaps it's a side effect of the spell being cast. Synchronic magic does involve bonding, and their professionalism aided them, but now that is done with..

For a moment, his fingers twitch upon her back, his eyes remaining upon her with a deep, almost thoughtful shadow to them.

And then his palm slides out from behind her, falling back to his side. All at once, he feels more aware as if the intense focus of the spell has lifted. With that awareness comes peculiar note of her absence from him, as well as the sound of voices outside their tent, talk of wood and bonfires. ]

...Caster. Behold, the shadows dance by thy efforts.

[colchismagecraft]

[Oh...she should let go, shouldn't she? A strange coldness came over Caster as she felt his hand twitch on her back, and she tried to will it to stay where it was for just a moment. She didn't want to be alone.

But as Somnus finally did move his hand, Caster slowly slid her hand out of his, taking a moment to dare look around.]

Yes...I feel it. Such an odd feeling.

We should be able to control them, I think.

[luciing]

For what purpose? [ He asks this, glancing at her. It seems that with the spell cast, he doesn't quite want to move too far from her.

This is unnatural, but. It's harmless, he deems, and so he remains. ]

[colchismagecraft]

To fetch things, perhaps, or-...well, there's no need for it, now.

[...She watched Somnus, quietly, feeling a sense of reassurance by his presence. Even if the thought of him leaving just at this moment sent an anxious little jolt in her chest.

No...she didn't want him to abandon her here.]

[luciing]

[ There is no need to delve further into shadow-magics at the moment, not when they've accomplished their task.

Soft woodflutes and the pluck of lyres from beyond the exit of the tent dance upon his eardrum. He turns his head towards the heavy strips of cloth that serve as a door to the outside where the music filters in, then back to her.

It is uncharacteristic of him to suggest that they dawdle, and yet, the draining aspect of the ritual has him want for company: ]

Let us rest by the fire.