#beachnanigans
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Aloe! Is it me you're looking for?
[ continued from here @cashandaxes ]
Strange beach realms really werenât anything out of the ordinary as far as Charlotte was concerned. She didnât even think twice about waking up here. And really, a beach paradise was an excellent opportunity to put herself out there and cozy up to some wealthy nobles.
She was in the process of trading her armored bikini for a bathing alternative. It felt strange but also kind of nice to shed the few pieces of armor she actually did wear, but wherever this place was seemed peaceful enough. It would be hard to get a cute tan with her arms and legs covered anyway.
She stood with her back to the door as she began to tie the strings of the bathing suit behind her back when the door opened. Hostility was easily her first reaction and she snapped at whoever the intruder was. âHey what the fuââ After looking over her shoulder and realizing just who it was, Charlotteâs demeanor quickly softened and she flashed a grin at him.
Red faced and embarassed, Hector fled the scene but Charlotte ran after him, hands still trying to tie her top on behind her back. âWait! Milord! Donât go!â she cried out. âWe could go down to the beach together! We could pack a picnic!â
Oh, she was mad, she was so mad-- bloody hells, what was it with all the different ways he managed to attract the fury of the ladies in particular? And here heâd thought Charlotte a dainty creature, but that grin of hers, the way sheâd schooled her expression so fast... it promised little of anything good on the horizon.
Ordinarily, Hector might have been inclined to stand his ground. He wasnât one to cower. ...There wasnât much ground to stand on in this case, though. Stick around and risk being labelled a peeping tom... or vamoose and hope for the best... the second option sounded the wiser.
Except, contrary to all of his expectations, Charlotte was calling for him to come back.
He might have been tempted not to heed her words, were it not for her parting siren call: the promise of a meal. Padding to a stop, Hector glanced back... for all the space of half a second that was, a light burn immediately returning to his cheeks as she ran down the hall after him - the one hand behind her back the only thing currently preventing a, er... wardrobe malfunction. . .
âA... picnic,â he repeated, slowly. âThat, uh... That sounds nice. Yeah. Why not?â
Then, without thinking. âDo you need help with that?â
Whether he meant the bikini or the food was anyoneâs guess, really.
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"Humble maiden comes / hoping to receive some aid / clever boy provides?" Mitama laughs sheepishly. Some time has passed since she last saw the mage, hmm? "What a silly game this is, hmm? Though any opportunity to practice my poetry, I suppose. Would you mind? I think I am doing quite well. Or would you prefer I flatter you further first?"
Itâd been a little while, yes, but that didnât make him any less enthused to see his friend anew. Meeting Mitama with a bright smile, he laughed. âYouâre playing? I thought about it, but...â He waved his hand. He glanced down at the boxes heâd been carrying down the beach. He had other plans.
He pauses a moment, thinking, thinking... he was quick, but nowhere near as quick as her, she whoâs devoted herself to this particular craft.
âClever boy wonders / if clever girl loses touch / imagery, lacking.â
He laughed again. âA little more flattery couldnât hurt,â he said with a wink, âbut youâve got a game to win so... Here ya go, sans fanfare. One Ewan Special Signature cominâ right up!â
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"You didn't really think you'd get rid of me this easily did you?" Serra's grinning from ear to ear as she stands with her hands on her hips.
Matthew smirked back, hand on his own hip, brows lifted with amusement.
âKinda, yeah, actually,â he stated with a shrug.
Was he joking? Was he not? Few were those who could tell.
âBut now that youâre here... you will help me look out for mâlord, wonât you?â
Kinda convenient, actually...
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it looks. bad. or, at the least, it doesnât look great. to him, she seems at a glance the sort to act tough, but maybe she really will be fine. he isnât willing to leave it to chance, though.
âCan I see...?â
he approaches carefully, respectfully, but itâs a sheepish look he dons when she asks after his help. wistful, he shakes his head. âI can set stuff on fire with the best of them, but healing...â not his forte. regrettably. he can think of a few instances such ability mightâve come in handy, and right now is not the least of them.
âI know how to wrap pretty good though. If only we had... aha!â if thereâs anything heâs learned about this place in his time here, itâs that if you ask, you will (most likely) receive. he plucks the roll of bandages up from the ground, shakes what few specks of sand clung to it. âIf you just gimme a moment... and then I can most certainly help you hobble back to the house.â
he smiles encouragingly.
âThe nameâs Ewan, by the way. Anywho! Sound like a plan?â
â why are you bleeding? â
        ⥠ //   QUESTION PROMPTS. / @jehannanmage
     the initial lacerating sting has begun to subside, making way for the dull ache of blood and body rushing to the site of the new wound, and she bites the inside of her lip against the tenderness that blooms with the shift of her weight onto her now badly bleeding foot. the surf takes with it new drops of her blood on each cleanse of the shoreline, wiping away traces of her small accident, but somehow the caustic bite of saltwater only makes it worse, even knowing that, in a way, itâs supposed to be good for the injury. though maybe not if itâs from the ocean.
     cursing bad luck and her own thoughtlessness under her breath, she hobbles awkwardly further up the beach, glancing back to frown at the murky dashes of red tracking in the sand with each step. she tries to move her weight forward onto the ball of her foot, but even that sends a rhythmic, acute barb through the softer skin of the arch, not to mention how unpleasant it is to know sheâs getting sand into the cut the longer she stays here. well, sheâs had worse than this by far; the seaside house isnât too far away, or at least if she could make it to one of the shaded stands, she could look for something toâ
     her situation ( or maybe itâs her lopsided gait, obviously struggling ) catches the attention of another student, and at the call, she looks up to a concerned, curious face belonging to a boy she doesnât know.
     well, no acting her way out of this one.
     â i stepped on something sharp under the waves, â she replies, jerking her head at the shallows, â a piece of a shell, i think. iâll be fine in a second. â keen gaze watches the boy calmly as he approaches more closely; his robes look like those of a mage, but she canât really be too sure. â do you know any healing magic? if not, can you help me back to the house? iâd appreciate it. â
#vermilique#beachnanigans#no need to thread i just...#wanted to hit this with a reply at least orz#caeldori........
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coup de foudre
[from here @flowerofgoneril ]
Hildaâs eyes sparkle as she watches the fiery butterflies floating and fluttering around her. âOh, Ewan!â she says breathlessly, taking in the beauty of the moment. âTheyâre so cute!â Sheâs rarely seen magic used in such a beautiful, purely aesthetic way and it almost makes her consider paying a little more attention during magic focused lessons.
As the butterflies fizzle out she turns her attention back toward Ewan with blushed cheeks and a soft smile across her lips. It must be the light flickering off the fire, but thereâs just something different about him. Something that makes her feel as though his magical butterflies found their way to her stomach.
Oh goddess, is this happening? Is she about to experience the fabled Teen Beach Summer Romance? Itâs something sheâs heard Holst and Baltie talk about before and something sheâs read about in the kind of novels Seteth would immediately purge from the library. Could she be about to experience that right of passage for young adults?
Hilda takes a step closer to Ewan and reaches for his hand. âI think Iâd like that.â
Heâs glad the magic is well received - heâs proud of the control heâs managed to achieve over the course of his studies, and to see someone marvel so at one of his creations... to see Hilda -Â beautiful, charming Hilda - of all people, approve.
Ewanâs own stomach is half in knots. He tries to sit tall, reminds himself internally not to fidget, and in the midst of his whirlwind thoughts, he remembers to keep an easy smile. The bonfireâs light flickers, but though he feels warmth in his chest, he doesnât credit its flames.
She reaches for his hand, and honestly he canât really believe it - but maybe this whole thing, this whole place really is a dream, after all, and if it is...
His hand entwines with hers. Crimson eyes meet pink, and then flick just slightly down... then back.
âHilda...â Lightly, he squeezes her hand in his. â... Is it all right if...â What are the right words... â... Can I kiss you?â
#thread x coup de foudre#flowerofgoneril#my brain: ????? how do#ewan: aight lemme take the wheel#beachnanigans
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Feet patter against sand before she skids to a stop in front of him. A quill in one hand, she slaps her stomach with the other. "Sign my abs, Hector! It's important!" Ah, wait, has she introduced herself to this Hector? Eh, it'll be fine.
The pitter patter of feet... He doesnât have to lift his head from where heâs sunning to know. He just feels it in his gut. Here comes trouble.
Half-lidded, judging eyes watch as Sharena skids to a stop before him. It seems she has forgotten what she had put him through already...
But. He hasnât.
âI think not, you sorceress. No doubt this is somehow another of your conniving tricks, like those bedeviled sprinkles of yours.â With a scowl, he waves her away. and pushes himself from his back to his stomach, laying his head on his arms. âGo bother some other sap.â
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Ewan nods and smiles brightly in spite of the rain, beyond thrilled Knoll had not only recognized but remembered him, too. Itâs kind of odd... he doesnât recognize it consciously, but something in him intuits the subtle movement and what it means... The protective shift reminds him a little of his sister. Is the other mage looking out for him?
Heâs touched, but puzzled.
âI donât know if Iâd say mastered,â he notes with a shake of his head, though his smile remains. âItâs an odd mix between what I know of Fodlanâs take on Luna and Magvelâs. Still have a few quirks to sort out. Functional though, at the least! Anyway, thank you! Hearing that means a lot. Saleh always believed in me, but sometimes, being his pupil, I couldnât help but wonder if he was just a smidgen biased, haha.â
Rocking back and forth from heel to toe, the Jehannan mage looks out over the ocean, eyes full of wonder. Knoll was right. To rush, when it came to the ancient magics, would be folly. No matter how natural it feels at his fingertips, even more so than anima (which had come to him as a rather large surprise, in truth), there was always danger in the unknown. Any kind of magic could hurt (he need only think back to the Thoron Incident), but when it came to dark magics...
One need tread lighter than ever, lest they lose the very fiber of their being.
Or so heâs heard, anyway. Heâs in no hurry to test it out, regardless.
âYeah, letâs!â he chirps in agreement, preparing to head out when he feels the weight of something drop on his shoulders. A cloak. Knollâs cloak.
If he were a cat, he might have purred in delight. He settled, instead, for grasping hold of it and nestling into it with no small gratitude. To refuse would be rude. To accept the loan with dignity, however... That, Ewan could do.
â... Thank you.â
đ§ The storm hits without warning, and Ewan seeks shelter in a copse of trees. Except it seems he's not the only one. Eyes grow wide as he somewhat recognizes the other. "You! You're that shaman! From uh... Grado...?" Curiosity compels him to continue. "Knoll, was it? We didn't really meet or anythin' but... I remember admiring your dark magic from afar..." Then, a thought, and Ewan conjures a small, vibrant moon over his palm. Luna. "Look! I've started learning it, as well!"
Not exactly eager to get wet Knoll had decided to hide from the rain beneath a cluster of trees as soon as the downpour started. Itâs not exactly surprising someone else would have the same idea, but what does shock him is who joins him, and even more so than that, the magic the young boy could wield now. âYes, thatâs right, and youâre Ewan, from Jehanna.â Almost instinctively he moves to provide the younger mage more protection from the storm. âIâm certain youâll be a master of dark magic far more powerful than I am if youâve already mastered Luna. Just make sure not to rush into anything.â Knoll tries to smile, itâs heartening to see someone so young, especially a boy from Magvel like Ewan, be interested in ancient magic. He canât help but think of how similar Ewanâs openness is to the prince Lyon he knew when they were younger. âNow, letâs see if we canât find a way out of this rain,â he says, as he leans down, removing his hooded cloak and wrapping it around the boy so he wonât get any wetter. Sure, Knollâs other robes will probably be soaked, but if dark magic has taught him anything, sometimes a sacrifice is worth it. Especially when itâs an act of kindness this small.
#knollandvoid#beachnanigans#aaaaa#i hope it's all right to not turn this into a thread...#but i still wanted to drop it a reply at the least ; v;#knoll....#i'm so fond#he's so warm what the heck
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Cowabunga, bro!
[from here @fenrena ]
Jaw drops, and her eyes widen. âS-sorceress? I only know basic spells!â Really basic. But, sheâs getting better each day and with practice. Soon, sheâll be able to use a weapon and spells.
Sharena drops to the ground, crawling the short distance until she is next to him, where she tries and looks at him. âC'mon, Hector, please? Pretty please?â Expression turns a bit pitiful, mossy eyes wide and a pout on her lips. âI didnât mean for it to go that far. I mixed too many serrano seeds with the sprinkles.â
Suddenly, the princess is sitting on her knees. âI know! How about I make it up to you?â Signature is forgotten as her hand goes to her chin, and she thinks, a nail tracing the underside of her lips.
âLetâs see⌠I could make a dish for you. Or I can teach you how to climb walls or surf. Maybe we could spar? Iâm a great sparring partnerâŚâ Thereâs a pause before she presses herself against sandâits warm against her stomachâand looks at Hector. Sheâs quite serious despite the excited energy radiating off her.
âHector, I really am sorry. Let me make it up to you.â A wide grin appears on her face. âWho knows! We might have a blast!â
On top of reminding him of that terrible experience, sheâs in his sun now, too. With a grumble, he shifts and tries to get comfy again. Just as quick, though, the shade disappears, replaced by... the sounds of something shuffling in the sand. Cracking an eye open, he frowns.
What is she doing?
When he sees the look plastered on her face, he knows at once heâs in trouble.
The witch is at it again, his mind whispers. If he doesnât take care, heâll wind up in her thrall anew, and he doesnât much care to try his hand at whatever wicked new concoction sheâs come up with this time. Seeing as how she doesnât seem to be in a hurry to leave, though...
Propping himself up on an elbow, fist squished into his cheek, he watches as Sharena goes about apologizing. Pensiveness suits her better than it does him. He leaves her to her thoughts,
until he canât really take anymore of it. With a growl and a glower, he roughly pushes himself up. Sitting up, hands behind him holding up up, he shakes his head.
âLook, I donât... need any of that stuff... though Iâm not one to say no to a spar...â This last bit had been a bit quieter, albeit still audible. In any case, he sure in blazes didnât plan on eating anything of hers anytime soon. âIf you want a signature, just promise you wonât hit me with serrano again, or whatever that was.â He waves it off. No long term harm done, at any rate. . .
Then, a thought.
âYou know how to surf?â A pause. Contemplation. âYou really think I could learn it?â
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đ´ - The view from the massive old growth was spectacular, as one would expect.. But. As it turned out, the hard part was not -climbing- the tree (no, that had been a relatively simple task of finding the correct footholds and the sturdiest branches), but getting back down again. It was an awkward descent, and Pent nearly slipped at least twice, somehow finding patches of slick moss that he hadn't come across on the way up. He peered up at Ewan. "Please let me know before falling on me?"
The view had been more than worth the climb.
And alongside the beauty of the sight before them, it called too to mind old memories... one of those days heâd spent traveling Magvel with his teacher, Saleh. The great sage had been off doing something or other, and his pupil had been left to his own devices, for better or worse.
Ewan had climbed a similar tree, on such an occasion, though it had been more of a coniferous variety if memory served... And as Pent made his request, Ewan smiled at the sky, squinting against the sunlight. Right... Right... Heâd fallen off of that one, hadnât he? Luckily, a wandering cleric had been nearby at the time, and heâd also had the fortune of falling into a big olâ bush, but...
Somehow, he doubted Pent would be quite so comfy to land on. Like, the guy wasnât jacked or anything, but he didnât look particularly cushy, either - just a fellow spindly mage, in the end.
âNo promises,â he said with a chortle, though he fully did not intend on falling again if he could help it. âBut if you hear a yell, you better WAaaATCH OoOOUt BELoooOOwWW!â
But nothing happened. Ewan picked himself another foothold, carefully.
âSomething along those lines, you know?â
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đ to explore the boundaries of this world with my muse
To the ends of the world...
Ewan had always envisioned traveling a great deal when he got older. There was so much to see, to learn, to witness and behold... It seemed only natural to want to see how far this strange new place itself might extend.
And for once, for a blessing, his current partner in exploration would find Ewan curiously quiet. Part of it was due the occasional pause in order to soak in their surroundings and marvel at the wonders this Voice had seemingly conjured up for them. Part of it was his focus on trying to Remember.
It was a bit humid in this part of the area, but not dreadfully so. Most of this place seemed made to cater, heâd noticed, and that in itself was an oddity heâd not have minded explained. If he had the power to pull off this kind of stunt, he was sure he could think of some better use for it, but...
Better not to look a gift horse in the mouth, one supposed.
And besides, in the midst of all them thoughts rattling about in his noggin, there was one memory he held on to tightly.
âHey, Felix...?â
The mage fidgeted with something in his pocket. âI found this back in... Before here.â Where... Why couldnât he remember...? âI donât remember whatâs itâs called, but I remember thinking you might like it. Anyway, uh, thanks for letting me come out here with ya... Iâm not sure what weâll find, if anything, but, even so...â
He held the cube up and offered it over. It had lost its glow, but its colour, at the least, remained.
He couldnât remember everything, he mulled quietly, but... maybe that was okay. Maybe thatâd be for the best. He smiled. In the meantime, a new journey awaited...!
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đ "You are capable of casting a flame, correct?" Mitama held up the strange device she had found. "I lack the ability myself, but these resemble some things I have seen at home. If I am correct, they are fireworks."
âOf course!â he answered with a laugh and a proud smile, standing tall. What self-respectinâ mage couldnât? Taking one of the odd devices presented him, he looked it over with no small curiosity. . . âIâm thinking you are correct, yes. But thereâs only one way to find out, aye?â
And so, with little fanfare, he lit the fuse of the first, set the thing down in the sand and stood back - and watched with bright eyes as it took off into the sky with a crack! and a howl, before exploding into a glimmering shower of light. Mouth agape, he made for the next, giggling at himself - that had been so pretty! Such wondrous inventions...!
Grinning sheepishly, he held his hand aloft, a flame burning atop it in invitation for his friend to light one of her own.
âBeautiful, truly... ...â A pause. âI didnât mean it earlier. About your haiku. They are clever and masterful as ever, Mitama.â He doubted if heâd ever get to be on her level given her amount of dedication to her crafted... But itâd not stop him trying!
âThey are as brilliant / as the stars we light above / effervescent...â A pause. âAw, wait, that last one was just four, wasnât it...â
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đĽ "This is kind of romantic don't you think?" Hilda lets out a carefully planned wistful sigh. "It's a shame we're both alone."
Ro... mantic...?
He felt his heart skip a beat.
âUhh... Yeah. It kind of is, isnât it?â
Smooth. Real smooth.
âStarry blanket of skies overhead, cozy fire before us,...â Donât you dare put your damn foot in your mouth now, Ewan. Donât you dare. â... the songs of those who dwell in the night rising in chorus...â Crickets chirped in approval. Somewhere in the distance, a creature howled at the perfect moon reflecting in the waters.
Was it a shame they were both alone? He wasnât sure what to make of that, in truth. Wasnât sure what to make of that sigh, neither. Why did girls insist on speaking in tongues?
âI-is it?â He shrugged, smiled awkwardly, and huddled closer to the flames. An idea glinted in his eyes. With a twirl of his fingers, he beckoned to the flames. Called them forth, teased them into being, and they soon took the shape of a handful of fluttering butterflies, dancing about Hilda... before, eventually, flickering away into the sky, into nothingness. His calm smile is more confident this time. âIt doesnât have to be.â
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[đ] - "You're the mage here. I cannot possibly fathom why you would need my help with this." Whatever this was. Innes watches Ewan with crossed arms and a skeptical gaze. One foot taps impatiently against the sand, grains shifting in-between his toes with the movement. "If it is a fireworks show you wish to create, then wouldn't such a task be best suited for the one who can conjure fire?"
Ewan huffs in return, rolling his eyes at the princeâs skepticism. âItâs not like Iâd call you all the way out here for nothing.â Okay. Maybe he would. Getting on Innesâs nerves was ever a fun time. âLook, itâs not just any olâ fireworks I wanna try my hand at, here. All willy nilly, with no thought to the wheres and whys... Iâm wanting to be methodical about it.â
He taps at his temple. Then, when theyâve arrived at the stash, Ewan stoops to pick up a bow, and offers it to Innes. Curiously... a number of the supposed fireworks have been tied to... strings? Rope?
âYou see those trees?â He points. âCould you shoot these up there? And the other end up there? Annnd.. there, there... there, too,â he continues to direct. He flashes the prince an innocent grin. âItâll be worth your while. Promise.â
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"Ewan? I have a favor to ask of you." Lorenz held out his arm and a quill. "Consider it, as the people would say, a clause of the quote, 'bro code'. Could you sign my arm?"
A favour, huh...
Ewan quirked a brow in show of considering it. In truth, he was trying his damndest not to burst into a fit of giggles - where in the world had Lorenz heard of the Bro Code? Never had the mage thought heâd hear it come outta there, not in a million years.
Breaking into a sheepish grin, Ewan nodded. âYeah. Sure. Anything for a bro.â He signed, chuckling quietly to himself. This felt a bit like cheating, to be honest - not quite in the spirit of the game but... oh well. He felt he kind of owed Lorenz anyhow, he thought...
... Though he couldnât quite remember why.
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"I know you've been completely lost without me but don't worry you'll have plenty of time to dote on me and shower me in praise now that I'm here!"
He knew that voice. He knew it, and instinctively, he reacted, the hairs at the nape of his neck pricking, his muscles tensing just that extra little bit-- Serra.
She had shown herself useful during their foray across Elibe, true, however... it seemed sheâd not yet outgrown her attitude. Eyes closed, Hector inhaled. Oswin had counselled him to simply breathe when stressed. . .
Nope. Wasnât working. Pinning a blank stare on the Ostian cleric, he shrugged, brows raised. âI think you might have me confused for someone else. Someone who actually does that stuff.â
Pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, he shook his head. â... If you were gonna just show up outta the blue like this, Serra, instead of taking care of things back home... Maybe you coulda done so a week prior and spared me a handful of new scars... Tsk.â
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