isleofavalon | May Catch-All Log [ota]

WHO: Somnus and You
️ WHAT: Catch-all, TDM prompts, etc.
WHEN: Month of May
WHERE: Around
WARNINGS: Individual warnings below

TDM Prompt: Casino Bidding CW: Alcohol, gambling

[ Do the rumors involving the existence of such rare hourglass coins have any merit? Perhaps not, perhaps so; whatever the case, it warrants investigation. Thus he ventures into the depths of the casino, where the atmosphere is heady and heavy with smoke and the clamor of clinking drinks and calls for bids. His usual attire, that of archaic robes, is met with head-turns of the younger fae and approving nods from the older misers of the club. It is with the latter that he interacts-- one old soul to others-- in a few rounds of card games involving a number of buffs and keeping one's visage as steel and unreadable as can be. He makes a sizable sum, because of it.

Somnus' alcoholic drink of choice is a deep, red wine, and he holds a goblet-full of it in his hand as assistants begin to set up the bidding stage. Dressed in gaudy, sparkling outfits, the fae parade the items one by one out to pedestals: the feather, the glacier, the flower, and so forth.

However, it is the first one that garners his attention the most, but rather than interest, he appears dismissive. Somnus frowns, speaking to whichever other-worlder has joined him. ]

A feather that may resurrect the dead... What nonsense.

TDM Prompt: KnotsCW: none

[ So.

You and he now have their wrists linked as one, and all thanks to one of the pesky fairies that are running this booth. Somnus tugs at his wrist, which may move your own upward with his to bring the linked limbs between you and him.

His voice, naturally deep and grim, carries fuel edges of disappointment and weariness to it. This isn't the first time the fae have played tricks, and it seems that even the markets are not safe. ] Their enchantments never cease.

Idle Training: Forward-Dated to May 9th CW: ig he's shirtless

[ The notably more pleasant weather of late spring allows for more outdoor, leisurely activities... for those who are idle. The one who is decidedly not is none other than Somnus Lucis Caelum. Outside of Camelot, one can find him on a field practicing the sport of javelin-throwing, and he seems to have a decent set-up. Nearby are a series of polearms wedged into the soft ground, and some meters away are markings on the ground to measure distance. An array of already-tossed spears, halberds, and javelins are already embedded near or past the furthest line. By now Somnus has worked up into a healthy, hearty exercise, although one might not know this by the serious, severe expression he wears, and his practice has gotten him heated to the point that he's already undone the upper half of his robes, allowing the fresh, cool spring air to soothe overworked brawn. As another sings silently through the air, it strikes right next to a previous one, but he is nowhere near done.

The muscles of his back and arms grow taught with tension, positioning himself as he corrects, then re-corrects his stance, and his eyes narrow to a dangerous, hunter's expertise as he marks yet another yonder goal. Without warning, he sprints and whips his arm forward, snapping the javelin into a ferocious torrent through the air. Sweat beads and breaks off the strands of his long bangs with the momentum, his chest heaves with a reactionary, much-needed inhale. A few seconds later, the toss ends its sail with a defeating crack as the weapon splits down a previously tossed polearm.

After sending another one flying across the field, he pauses to regain some of his disheveled composure, bringing his forearm up to wipe at the perspiration dotting his brow, then proceeding into a stretch of his arm crossed over the other. A soft exhale that may have been for relief doesn't appear to help whatever strain, mental or otherwise, has overcome him, and after a moment, he reaches for yet another javelin...

For those that know him, despite the immense focus require for the sport, he may appear more preoccupied than usual. While he may appear to be practicing alone, others are welcome to join in the sport or ask for instruction; alternatively, this prompt can be incorporated with the massage TDM prompt if one were to offer him a knot to relieve whatever tension wracks him. ]

Wildcard

[ Have an idea? PM this account, drinksteapots, or Jade294#6977! Somnus is also open to current Quests. ]

Threaded | Flat

[Rinea's focus was on the embroidery thread at the booth, drawn in by its shimmering colors. Maybe she should use this one for her next handkerchief? Hmm, the thread is not dyed, but grown in this color, so it won't fade, even without enchantment? how interesting....

Catching her in the little fey-mischief trap was but the work of a moment. It isn't until Somnus raises both of their arms that she finally pulls her attention fully away.]

I'm sorry-? [Wait, he wasn't trying to draw her attention. They're. Tied together.] Oh!

[The faint body heat of their wrists pressed together under the twine is awkwardly intimate, somehow. Rinea gently curls her fingers to keep their tips from resting upon him. She doesn't want to add to his obvious exhaustion at the farce, after all!

The fey working the booth, meanwhile, cackles in the way that only a little troublemaker can. "Hey now, it's not that bad," it snickers, clearly knowing exactly how bad it is. "Getting out is easy! I'll even tell you how..."]

[ Like with most things in her life, Ritsuka just sort of wandered into this casino with no real intention or expectation. She doesn't even remember what her actual initial thoughts were; she'd just drifted in. And once she'd caught sight of Somnus, she'd continued drifting over to him, because it's comforting for her to see a familiar face in a crowd.

Her own expression is quizzical as she listens to the spiel about the feather, her lips pressed into something that isn't quite a smile or a frown. Wow. That's a complicated feeling right there. ]

Pretty sure that's a bad idea... no matter where you go, that sort of thing never seems to work out.

[ He watches for a time from a distance as the polearms thud rhythmically into their targets. Though he admires the aim, he is loathe to approach after the way he had met his own end. It's difficult to forget such a traumatic death, especially when the stakes had been so very high for both sides. His chest twinges with phantom pain at the memory of it and he unconsciously lifts a hand to the spot where he had been pierced.

Eventually he does wander closer. He circles in such a way that he would never be in any of the projectiles' paths until he's within earshot. ]

I never took you for a spear thrower.

knots

Casino Bidding

Idle training