[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

[inemeraldfaith]

[He doesn't answer. Rather, he doesn't answer in the way that she expects him to. Her befuddlement is transparent, clear as day, but the proverbial gears in her head spin rapidly.

What is it that she has done or been to be deserving of presents? The only answer she can come to is that he may be so unfamiliar with kindness that hers has caught him by surprise. She could believe that. Aerith knows if she asks him something so pointed, he likely won't answer. Somnus only seems to answer what he chooses to. Most people probably operate the same way. Just because she is a largely open individual doesn't mean she can make the same expectations of others.

When he offers to put it in for her, she pauses for several long moments and then concedes. She raises her hand, open palm, so he might take the hair pin at his discretion and she turns just so that he can better examine her hair. It's only then that a subtle shade of pink falls over her.

For a very long time, she has only ever worn the very specific ribbon in her hair from a man who has long since been gone, yet remained imprinted upon her heart. She can't really picture herself without it. And beneath it, the white materia gifted from her mother. There is weight in this moment, a weight that Aerith is reluctant to share or speak of.

Yet it is there and palpable.]

Here. [She begins somewhat quieter and thoughtful.] Maybe in front of my ponytail? I'll let you decide where it looks best.

[luciing]

[ Both the ribbon and bauble are accessories that he’s noticed before, and it seems she purposely styles her hair in a particular way with them. His hands hesitate from placing this additional decoration to her hair, when it’s clear that his gift hasn’t earned such sentimentality as the other two. Nevertheless, he slides the pin beside the ribbon, tucking it into the base of where her hair gathers. Fingers happen to catch a wavy lock as he finishes, only for the strands to slowly sift one by one off of his fingertips, cascading to her shoulders.

It would look lovely down, reaching past the curve of her back. It would look lovely gathered up, revealing her slender neck...

She’ll hear his boot crunch over snow behind her as he takes a step away, his hands falling to his sides.

He has no words, not really. He needn’t say she’s beautiful again, not which it is the most obvious thing in the world— he can’t say it again. But his heart beats beneath his robes, quietly and somberly, aching for him to hold her. ]

[inemeraldfaith]

[As he takes his time in placing her new hairpiece, Aerith folds her hands together patiently, knowing very well that she will most likely always hold onto it. It's a gift that she doesn't fully understand the weight of, but contrary to what others may think of her, she puts investment in such things.

It is emotionally charged, even if she isn't entirely aware of it.

When he moves, she turns to face him. Tilting her head, she's smiling, the tinge of pink still touching her cheeks.]

Thanks!

[Her hands lift and she motions to her face.] What do you think? I might have to go clothes shopping too to pick out an outfit that'll match it.

[After a moment's consideration, the flicker of a frown passed across her face.] I should have gotten you something. Are you sure there isn't something else you'd like? Maybe... something to eat? Or... No. [Looking him over from head to toe, her head tilts as she taps at her chin.] Should probably do something fancier? What kinds of things do you like?

[luciing]

[ When she turns and smiles at him, he's rendered mute once more, and he seems to go still as her eyes sweep over him in assessment of his status. Her conclusions are hers to draw; however--

What he likes, what he wants, matters not. It is their Star that demands the most of all, and still it cries for salvation from an endless night. The King of Kings sits upon the throne, and he must return to it to usher in the Dawn, for the future awaits. Her smile and tint upon her cheeks, the flowers she cares for, the gift she offers him, her care for the entire world, even the passing thought that her brief frown is something he wishes to overturn by any means... it makes him stray. This, this is a gross self-indulgence.

Unbidden, a confession slips from him at last, harsh and wretched: ]

Ask not, else I shall surrender.

[inemeraldfaith]

Surr...

[She begins to respond, as if she doesn't get what he means. The pause that ensues brings her no closer to the question she has yet to ask. It sits on the tip of her tongue and for a non-descript amount of time (time that seems longer than it likely truly is), she wears the same smile that she ordinarily has in his presence.

Her head tilts and she finds her voice once more.]

Hm... Surrender. I guess it might depend on what you're surrendering to, but to surrender might not be the worst thing, right? Are you in trouble, maybe? If you tell me, I might be able to help.

[Her smile grows.] I'd like to help you. If you'd let me.

[luciing]

[ With his confession given by the betrayal of his beating heart, his expression resumes is previous grimness.

Somnus' gaze lingers upon her eager, earnest smile. As his sides, his hands are slack. He takes another step from her, marking another heavy print in the snow. Perhaps she too is cold, but unlike handing her a cloak in the caravan, he should not be the one to warm her. ]

You cannot help.

[ Henceforth, it is best if they never see each other. ]

[inemeraldfaith]

Well—

[Aerith isn't convinced. It is a passing, fleeting happenstance where concern reflects in her gaze. He's so complicated. It's hard to know where she can push and what's 'too hard.' She had thought he was like Cloud before, but... no. The more she converses with him and observes him, she finds that there are some differences between the two.]

I don't know about that. [She decides to play nonchalant.] I think I could. I think you just don't want to let me. Are you always so stubborn?

[Her gaze moves off of him as she thinks carefully about how she should proceed.] Everyone needs someone, you know. [Herself included. Aerith is so accustomed to handling many things on her own. Having Tifa and the others was an adjustment process. Even then, she still doesn't rely on them fully. Maybe she's being hypocritical...] We weren't made to carry everything alone. You don't have to say 'yes' right here or right now, or even to me, but... I hope that you can find an opportunity to release some of your burdens.

[luciing]

[ There goes her smile, gone so quickly like frost at dawn. ]

Ne'er would I impose.

[ For the only burden here and now is how the feeling that's settled in his heart crushes him, that, having admitted to surrendering to it before her-- he's even admitted to that much. She cannot help with that, because the affection is unrequited. It would be unwise to burden her with such needless knowledge.

At this, he looks away from her. ]

[inemeraldfaith]

Oh, so that's what it is. You're afraid of imposing.

[That's a little more difficult to work around, isn't it? She can't actually change how he sees something and in truth, she wouldn't want to. Aerith wants him to be honest with himself and she wants him to feel like he can be himself without judgement. He deserves that, and likely more.

She moves closer to him and in a show of something that seems incredibly casual, but accompanied with an undeniable friendliness and reassurance in only a way Aerith can, she bumps affectionately right against him by way of the hip. Well. Her hip. Their height difference implies it's probably not his hip she's knocking herself into intentionally.]

I can't speak for anyone else, but you're not an imposition to me.

[luciing]

[ It happens at once. Her approaching then bumping her hip against the side of upper thigh, just as he's taking a slight step back. His boot finds purchase on ice, causing a slight shake in his balance, and his hand reaches out to-- her. Her waist, specifically.

He's steadied himself in a half-second, and the snow will soon cover the small slip of one footprint as if it's never happened at all, but his hand remains upon her, pressing against the small of her back. His palm burns, yet his body refuses to move again, whether towards or away.

Somnus draws in a slow breath through his nose. When he speaks next, his tone is strained, and his voice, quieter for their proximity. ] ...This one would be.

[inemeraldfaith]

[Catching him off balance is almost a blessing. It puts a break into that icy facade of his. In the same moment that he's keeping himself upright, she's offering her hands to help steady him. He uses her, but not exactly the way she's expecting. But she doesn't shake him off.

To her, it's not an ordeal. She has never been shy about being close to others. It's simply that at a point, others have been rendered uncomfortable by her strange and sometimes eerie abilities. In this new world, very few people know of them, the truth of them, and Aerith intends to keep it that way.]

Hey.

[She begins, simple and quiet as she looks up to him. Consideration passes and her hands lift to help straighten out the way his fanciful garb sits upon him.]

You don't get to decide that for me. I get a say, don't I? I don't think you're a burden, so you aren't one.

[luciing]

[ He meets her gaze evenly. Not a burden, she says, and he doubts. He cannot add more. This tender feeling (enchantment induced) is an inappropriate response to her magnanimity. It feels too good to be beside her.

His shoulders straighten as her hands correct his grab, then relax. Quietly, ] And what of your own?

[ Finally, he steps away, definitive in his step this time. ] Farewell, Healer.

[inemeraldfaith]

[Her own. Her own what? Burdens? She wonders if she has any here in this world. If unanswered questions are burdens, then it's possible she has more than she's willing to admit. But the thing about burdens...

Well. Perhaps it's that Aerith feels she must stand as that pillar of strength for others. Whatever uncertainty lingers beneath her calm and composed demeanour, she tends to leave it locked up there. Sometimes she must put aside her own feelings. Maybe her burdens are treated the same way.

She doesn't know how to answer him, even as her hands lower from the way he steps back to reclaim his space. As such, she chooses not to.]

Aerith. Aerith is fine.

[She'll correct him as many times as is necessary for him to get it. If he ever gets it at all.]

[luciing]

[ Such lovely a name is not his to utter.

And so turning from her, he departs and leaves her to the winter's chill. ]