▬ // c.old.◢ noodles❜

[lowkey gnocchi]

[lowkey gnocchi]

• ARIA
  
  There was nothing quite like being dropped head first into an unknown area whose inhabitants spoke an entirely different language from you to get your brain into Learning Mode. Well, maybe Aria didn't have a brain in the human sense and having to form a voice was actually quite uncomfortable, but she thought she managed to fit in pretty well. Even if she was accosted more than once about why her skin was literally glowing. Apparently humans didn't do that within their visible spectrum, so she decided to pulse her glow under a human's level of vision. This ended up causing quite a few headaches for the humans around her, so naturally, she decided to head towards the greatest concentration of humans nearby to see what would happen.
  
  That was how she found the greatest thing she had ever seen on Earth: a harvest festival. Pumpkins and corn and hay, oh my! With all of the sights and sounds bombarding her, all Aria could do was wander around until she found a strange tent emanating an oddly familiar smell. It almost smelled like home, but with the additions of sweat and gases emitted by bodies. Two people were face first on the ground and Aria poked the white haired one with the end of her lower appendage. Foot. A stronger smell of home came from the redhead female and Aria knelt down to sniff her. The smell came from something that needed to be ingested. Aria tried to pick up the woman to ask what this marvellous substance must be and ended up falling down as well due to her lack of coordination. At least she wasn't face first like the others.
  "Drink. What?" she rasped through a very dry throat. She had forgotten how needy this fleshy body could be.
  
  LOCATION: Tent that smells like home [beer tent] tab COMPANY: Wolf 1 and Wolf 2 [James and Cordelia]

[lowkey gnocchi]

• Aria grabbed the cup and nibbled on it to sate her curiosity while wolf smelling man talked to his companion. Leave? Now? But she had just gotten here and wanted to drink this substance that smelled like home! Before she could protest, someone bumped into her. This tent was very popular, and Aria felt a hint of pride that it was no doubt because it smelled mostly like her home. The woman who smelled like salt and fish and salted fish bent down before jerking upright, then managed to make everyone march forth. While Aria could've probably stopped herself (or at least trip on purpose), she wanted to partake in this festival ritual. Was this how the people proved themselves worthy of drinking? Then she would happily move under someone else's command, especially one who was so well rounded in comparison to the others. Her especially enthusiastic movements almost clotheslined the wolf smelling man.
  
  Then the singing started. Aria was no singer; half the time, she wasn't even a talker. But after the wailing earlier, she really didn't like this experience called singing. She clamped her jaw shut even as a hoarse rendition of the song started to rise in the back of her throat.
  But another person arrived and distracted her long enough to stop the singing, one Aria might've even called a hero if she believed in such things. Their eyes met and he held out the end of his arm appendage towards her. What was she meant to do? The intricacies of human interaction were complicated, especially when one side was literally being pulled into line. Rather than be further subjected to being jostled by wolves and fish and sweaty people, Aria lurched forward and latched onto the man's hand... with her teeth. She had sharpened them up just in case she found a suitable meal, and so her incisors easily sliced into the man's fingers.
  
  The man gave no indication of feeling any pain, even when Aria pressed a little harder. The taste of copper mixed with a fruity aftertaste was intriguing. They continued to stare at each other before she broke the silence.
  "Okay." She licked off the dribble of blood in the corner of her mouth as her body started to absently sway again.
  
  LOCATION: Tent that smells like home [beer tent] tab COMPANY: Wolf 1 and Wolf 2, Fish woman, (mainly) Tasty man [James, Cordelia, Rebecca, and Stanley]

[lowkey gnocchi]

• CEREN ASTURIAS
  
  Despite having spilled a half melted candle on her robes, starting her monthly cycle, and barely getting any time to herself in the morning before her servants came in, Ceren was in a good mood. There was going to be a Royal Ball in six days, which would allow her to complete negotiations with fellow nobles- preferably while they were more drunk than her. But more importantly, the Crown Prince was growing up and finding himself a nice little wife. The plan to allow even commoners into the festivities as esteemed guests and potential brides was certainly... unusual, but it would certainly keep Drothe on his toes. Despite a noble being far more likely to be picked than a peasant, the hope (and free food) would be enough to bring plenty in and keep Ceren entertained.
  
  "Bring out one of my better dresses. I plan to visit the Prince and wish him well," Ceren said in an imperious voice, but her small grin betrayed her intentions.
  
  ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆
  
  An ornate braid covered in a net of jewels that managed to capture almost all of Ceren's hair thumped gently against her back as she strode down the hall. The royal guards positioned a few feet on either side of Drothe's door inclined their heads toward her as she walked closer. She waited for a moment to eavesdrop hear how the Crown Prince was dealing with his fitting for his special day.
  
  Terribly. Predictably terrible.
  
  He was taking out his frustration on the attendants and acting more childish than usual. She rapped on the door once he grew quiet and walked in once he opened the door. As usual, Drothe had on a black tunic and while she hoped that was just for today, she knew he wanted to wear it at the ball.
  "This isn't a funeral, you fool. It's a marriage," she sighed as she gestured at the packed row of black tunics. "You're not such a messy eater that you can only wear black when you eat in public." Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention and she managed to see Kridian attempt to hide his scowl by shoving another piece of apple into his mouth.
  "Don't tell me we're depending on him to be the fashionable one." Ceren slightly tilted her head at Kridian and rolled her eyes. Honestly, they were both terrible at wearing something interesting for public appearances. Lailawen had far more sense when it came to picking attractive clothing, even though she was blind.
  
  Well, if she was going to make the most of her time here, she would pick out something decent for Drothe. So she waved aside the attendants and pushed through the stacks of fabrics until she finally saw something that wasn't black.
  "Look at that, you actually own something with colour." She pulled out the buried clothes with a grunt that was disguised by the tinkling of her scale-covered dress. Ceren held a red tunic with black embroidery up to Drothe's torso with an appraising look. It was better than just black, but did it really say 'marriage'? No, all it said was danger, and Drothe was already at risk of being drowned by a crowd of women. A black and gold tunic caused a much more pleased hum from Ceren.
  "Wearing something like this might help you get someone almost half as good as I am. If you're lucky. My betrothed will be at your Ball, so there really is no chance you can propose to me," she said, fully aware that the attendants (and guards) were still listening. She and Drothe were only friends, and once he got married, that would be the end of those annoying rumours.
  
  LOCATION: Drothe's room tab COMPANY: Crown Prince Extraordinare's Esteemed Self, Brat Prince, and attendants
  
  
  Mind you, Ceren is younger than all the royals except for the princess.
  

  Calcifer Hyung

  Darling Drama

[lowkey gnocchi]

• Her reflection smiled with approval as Ceren’s servants fussed around her gown one last time before stepping back. The gown was pale brown with vines and flowers twining around her waist that reached up to create her bodice. Since Drothe had decided to leave her alone with his damn crow, the bird managed to steal a couple jewels from her net so she now had to settle on wearing a simpler jeweled circlet to the ball. Her hair was pulled up to show off her slender neck, which was considered an especially fine feature of hers. She smoothed her skirts down and a maid presented her with a pillow that had a mask placed on it. There was no need to put it on just yet because she needed to meet her father and the ball wasn’t going to start for a while. Ceren picked up the carved golden half mask, careful to avoid leaving fingerprints on the colored glass pieces within the forehead section. She waved her maids away, then walked out of the room.
  
  The ball hadn’t started yet, but there were already a few nobles present to talk business in the halls outside the ballroom before the festivities began. Ceren’s father was one of them and he was talking to an older nobleman- the Bianchi patriarch. They both turned towards her as she walked closer.
  “You look beautiful, my rose,” her father said with a gentle smile.
  "I know," Ceren replied. She had to be, in order to get as far as she wanted. It helped that her parents were able to pass on their good looks.
  “My son is lucky to have caught your attention,” her betrothed’s father inclined his head and she smiled. The Bianchi heir was lucky- and had looked like a starstruck fool the whole time- but more importantly, he was a man of his word and gave Asturian ships access to his family’s docks ‘for as long as you want’. He would make for a devoted and easily swayed husband, which were always useful traits in Ceren’s eyes. They were also dull.
  “May I have a moment alone with my daughter? I feel as if she is always with your son and I barely see her.” Her father laughed and the other man bowed, then left them for another nobleman across the room.
  “Any words of advice, Father? I’ve heard you had quite a reputation with noblewomen when you were my age and I’m just following in your footsteps,” Ceren murmured and her father sighed exasperatedly.
  “I never know what to do with you.”
  “Well that’s not important now that I’m grown, is it? I know what I’m doing, ” she said, staring into her father’s eyes. He looked away. He was a gentle man who had married a spirited woman and ended up raising a fiery daughter alone (with the help of an army of nannies); more often than not, he just let her carry on so long as she didn’t drag their family name into the mud. Ceren was careful to not do that now that she was a solid part of the court and could hear and shape any possible rumors about her. It was too late for him to try to exert any real control on her.
  “Just be careful, my rose.” She kissed him on the cheek as a vague reassurance, then quickly strode into the ballroom.
  
  While she did love her father, being near him was sometimes too much to bear. Neither of them were entirely sure of what to do with each other. Ceren walked over to a corner filled with some collection of exotic plants, absently weaving through the servants rushing back and forth. She sighed in relief at being relatively alone again, until she saw a familiar man moving around behind the curtain of plants.
  "Your Highness." She kept her head low as she curtsied to Ephraim. She had made sure to avoid him as much as possible during her stay in the castle to avoid any awkward moments, but of course one would happen today.
  
  Maybe he wouldn’t notice her. Maybe he wouldn’t remember her, though that was a more irritating prospect. It was too late to put her mask on now anyway.
  
  
  Fluraichean

[lowkey gnocchi]

• Gabriel Ward Helena Cartier
  
  Gabriel frowned down at the sheer width and poofiness of his dress. It was extravagantly dyed, but the cut wasn’t modern enough to be current fashion. Was he stuck playing a noblewoman down on her luck?
  “Oh you’ll be a real belle at this ball, Gabe,” the woman at his feet muttered as she made some last minute adjustments to his hem. “Tiny thing like you’ll be snapped up in a moment.”
  “Stop cursing me, Maya, or I’ll make sure you won’t get your share of the money,” he growled as he put on his mask. He wasn’t going to the damned Royal Ball to get a rich husband; he was hired to do a job there. Besides, he would make his own riches once he became an established actor. Getting some favors from nobles would help him get better acting jobs, which would lead to creating a theatre where he would only feature the finest plays in Edrunia. Anyone and everyone could see them if they had an appreciation for the art.
  “You better get in and out fast then. Bring me some of that royal food, will you? Worked my fingers to the bone for this cloud to make you look like a right cherub,” Maya replied, reaching towards him to pinch his cheek. Gabriel pushed her hand away and stepped down from the platform. His heels made a satisfying clack despite their weight.
  “People in masks cannot be trusted, but I’ll make sure to get more pastries and noble contracts than you can count.”
  
  ---
  
  Despite his bravado, the royal palace was an intimidating presence. There was no money to spare for a carriage ride since his landlord always wanted to bleed him dry. So Gabriel had to walk along the roads and play a damsel in distress for a couple of carriages until one finally stopped. The coachman had been returning to his nobleman’s estate for the lady’s fur stole and was more than happy to pick up someone who he could complain to. After a few ‘hmm’s and sympathetic shakes of his head, Gabriel managed to get the coachman to go on a rant that required no responses at all and lasted the entire trip back to the castle. Rather than risk the coachman telling anyone he wasn’t nobility (or at least rich), Gabriel assured the coachman that he would deliver the stole to a Lady Moore before accepting the help of a palace servant to get down from the coach and then walked up the castle stairs.
  
  Seeing the castle guards flanking the stairs reminded Gabriel just how small and thin he was compared to most men. Too little food as a child and too many days spent hiding in the crevices of the city created a slender, almost feminine build that stuck around even after Gabriel’s voice had deepened and he had grown body hair. The guards seemed to notice his stare and nudged each other with a grin. Biting back the urge to call them out as the palace dogs who licked the boots of any visitor that they were, he simply gathered up his skirts and walked into the palace with a frosty glare.
  
  As soon as he entered the ballroom, he put the fur stole on and studied the mannerisms of the nobility in the room. They obviously lead the country, since commoners saw them more often than the royal family. Straight posture (but with a slight lean forward to show being at ease), eyes straight ahead, and of course confidence. He belonged here and he would mark off an area just for himself to prove it. People moved out of his way. Wishful thinking said it was because of his commanding presence, but common sense replied that it was because of the cloud wrapped around his legs.
  
  He got a corner space to rest against and looked around a little more. The food and drink were tempting, but there were already plenty of people there. Older nobles were around the edges of the room, keeping an eye on the younger nobles. Noblemen were making their way through the crowd and making passes at the women as if the ball was for them. No, he had picked just the right spot to wait. Unfortunately, someone else realized that too and she dove right behind him to inspect his dress with her clumsy, inquisitive fingers.
  
  “Oh no, p-please don’t touch the fabric. It was a gift and the dress is oh so delicate,” he said in a breathy, higher pitched voice and fluttered his hands down to meet the blonde’s. He didn’t want her tugging at his seams; the damn dress was threadbare enough as it was and the cloud of poofy, gauzy material was the only thing keeping his modesty and identity intact. He clasped her hands and pulled her upright. Her hands were soft, almost like what he imagined a cloud would feel like. Warmth spread across his face as he realized he was still holding her hands and he willed himself to blush prettily as he let them go- or at least not end up with splotches of red all over his face.
  
  “I’m sorry, I should introduce myself. I’m Helena Cartier and oh, I just hope I get to see the Crown Prince today! He’s just so impressive and someone will get to be his princess! What’s your name?” Vapid smile, slight head tilt to the left, and now he was a dimwitted but well-meaning noble girl who just wanted a glimpse of a shining prince.
  
  LOCATION: Ballroom tab COMPANY: Woman with soft hands (Lunellwy) tab OUTFIT/MASK
  
  
  Slenderchan

[lowkey gnocchi]

Quote:

Jun 13, 2019

• Huang Jiàn
  
  Travelling across the country was all well and good when you weren’t expected to fight. But having that expectation along with the new surroundings made it hard for Jiàn to fall and stay asleep. Thank god for sleeping masks. He cracked open an eye to look at the time and groaned. His cat naps had taken much too long and now he was cutting it close for the meeting. But on the bright side, he couldn’t hear anyone in the nearest bathroom. He tilted his head toward the nearest wall- no creaking pipes or the rush of water.
  It was the perfect time to unwind with a bath. He creaked out of bed and took out a bag full of kale from one of his suitcases, before placing a few ripped up pieces into his turtle’s makeshift terrarium made out of a Tupperware container.
  “I’ll set up something bigger if we’re stuck here for a while, Torticia,” he said as he patted her shell. She bobbed her head, almost as if in agreement, before tearing into her meal. Then he gathered up his skincare supplies and clothes before shuffling into the bathroom. He wasn’t really conscious or willing to talk to any person until he deemed himself ‘presentable’.
  
  ---
  
  “I’ve been in here too long,” Jiàn sighed as he stared at his pruned fingers. He was going to be late to the meeting. But every moment of his bath had been worth it, even if Morrigan would chew him out about it. He drained the tub, rubbed in some lotion and sunscreen, and then put on his clothes. Despite how late it was, he made sure to wear light clothes. He knew firsthand how hot California could get since he had grown up here. He folded up the sleeves of his cotton outer shirt, double-checked that they were aligned symmetrically, and then walked down to the entrance of the basement. Rather than reveal himself, he waited outside and listened to the others.
  
  The plan seemed simple enough: the group would split in two to gather intel, with four of the members going with Morrigan to the party and everyone else would explore Bleston with Fade. Wait. Jiàn was more than happy to have Morrigan in charge; she was capable and no-nonsense, even if she was quick to call out faults. Fade, on the other hand, was irritating. Their first real interaction started with a lecture (as if Jiàn was some child) and ended in a fistfight (which Jiàn may or may not have instigated). He didn’t have high hopes for how things would turn out during this mission… but he would keep quiet and see if time had improved the man. If it hadn’t, Jiàn could always pull an angsty teenager and slip away from the others. Hearing Fade describe it as a ‘family night’ nearly made him gag. His whole speech was pointless; none of them were new to hunting and they knew the stakes. They always did.
  
  But no artifacts, huh? Well it wouldn’t be wrong to keep a pen on himself, would it? The Ruyi Jingu Bang fit snugly behind his ear and the irony of Sun Wukong always doing the same thing wasn’t lost on Jiàn. Bronwyn’s voice and the sound of footsteps echoed upward and Jiàn flattened himself against the wall, then snuck past her into the basement as she walked out.
  
  Morrigan called him out for being late just as he walked in.
  “Don’t worry, I know my cover and everyone else’s too,” he replied. “Though putting Remi as Bronwyn’s fiancé was a real stroke of genius. I have to hand it to you.” A stroke of appreciated diabolical genius, despite the fact that he got along with both of them. More or less. At least Fade and Morrigan made more sense together. But did that arrangement happen through luck or with some pulled strings?
  
  “I’m the adopted cousin who is more than happy to sit a party out because I’m out here to get in touch with the less materialistic side of myself. Because California and hippies,” he rattled off. “And I’ve been chained up in the attic for all this time because I’m too charming to release into the general public, but I’ve recently learned self-restraint.”
  “I’m already Harry Potter in the Dursley family. I might as well have a little fun with this by saying it,” he mumbled to himself, staring at a distant point in the wall. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he didn’t take it out because he already knew who messaged him. Besides, she was walking downstairs again.
  “Nice of you to join us, Bronwyn. Don’t worry, you can have brownies and whiskey when you return if you bring back some souvenirs.” He inclined his head toward her. He always had something sweet saved for times like this. But the alcohol would be on Bronwyn; the party was sure to have plenty of it.

[lowkey gnocchi]

• Ceren gently placed the mask onto her face as she straightened up. People were streaming into the ballroom faster than ever, and though her skin and clothes were a giveaway for her identity, she would play along for now. She wouldn't, however, play along with Ephraim's insistence on acting so distant. The whole point of staying away had been to avoid any confrontation that could attract unwanted attention, but with the Royal Ball there were too many people in disguises to keep track of. They finally had a chance to talk again.
  "Don't tell me you've forgotten my name already, Ephraim," she said with a wry smile. "I've had better. My father can be quite abrasive at times. It seemed prudent to remove myself from his presence while I politely could." While most believed Lord Asturias to be too mild-mannered to irritate anyone, that was exactly what irritated Ceren. He was the one who had taught her how to use others, and for him to think he could slip it past her was foolish at best. Maybe he had wanted to guide her into her fiancé's arms. Desperation did wonders for attraction.
  
  As her mask started to slide down her nose, Ceren realized that she had never tied it. Rather than struggle with the ties, she turned around.
  "Tie me, would you?" she said and held up her mask's ties to Ephraim. She should've put it on before coming out like her maid had suggested, but Ceren couldn't stand the feeling of something blocking her vision. But it was finally time to hide herself away, and after a few moments, Ephraim tied her mask snugly in place.
  "Have you placed any bets with your siblings on who will manage to keep Drothe's attention?" she asked as she turned back around to face him. The sisters no doubt had their ideas since they were actually in the crowd somewhere. Drothe and Ephraim would rather hide than meet any of the women, and Kridian was always focused on himself.
  
  Before Ephraim could get more than a couple words out, a little blonde stormed into their hideaway and started to rant at the wall. Ceren watched her, first with amusement, then with irritation once she realized that the woman still hadn't recognized she wasn't alone.
  "As fun as it is to see you berate yourself, I'd appreciate it if you quietened down. I'm trying to talk to someone who's real," she said, eyeing the woman's gown. Covered in crystals almost to the point of gaudiness, it certainly made plenty of noise as the blonde startled. The woman's words were unexpected enough to throw Ceren off guard... and then make her laugh. This little woman had plenty of fire in her- and Ceren felt it was about time she met a peasant woman who seemed interesting.
  "I see you are ready to jump into a fight right away. But be careful you don't bite off more than you can handle, little bunny. I do happen to have influenced a few laws myself." she replied. Influenced was a strong word for it, but having dinners with the wives of lawmakers and spreading gossip in the right places did certainly help her more than the original laws would have.
  
  Ceren felt someone approach her from the right and turned to face her fiancé.
  "My love." Evan bowed to kiss the back of her hand and she barely managed to hide her grimace. How could he have found her so quickly? He bobbed a short bow toward Ephraim and the blonde before gently tugging Ceren away from them.
  "We should have our first dance here. It's only fitting," her fiancé said and licked his lips. He had tried to groom his mustache for the ball but that still didn't pull attention away from his prominent buckteeth.
  "I suppose so, Evan," she sighed. It was just an excuse to parade her around and they both knew it, but at least he was trying to be romantic about it. She let him pull her into the area where everyone had started to dance and let the music and her dancing lessons take over as her thoughts drifted off.

[lowkey gnocchi]

• Though the ball had been a disappointment, Ceren had managed to get a few useful things out of it- a reunion with her little second cousins once removed and a bodyguard who seemed to be only slightly taller than Ceren’s cousins. While she was unsure how the tiny woman could guard her, Gerta made up for her lack of ferocity with a believable amount of sincerity, which was always a breath of fresh air in the royal court. She still had a few choice words with her father about this bodyguard who would no doubt just spy on her for him, but the payment and agreement had already been finalized. At least now she wouldn’t have to worry as much about a dagger being slipped between her ribs at a function.
  
  But a bodyguard couldn’t save her from the haphazard flirting of an overzealous nobleman she had reached out to for trade agreements- and no, that wasn’t a euphemism. While she focused on getting maps for trade routes that maximized profits, he had tried to throw her off by tossing wayward compliments at her until she refused to play along. She could only hope he was less obnoxious (but just as dull-witted) sober, whenever she saw fit to talk to him next.
  
  All in all, the events of weeks prior made her quite testy now and Ceren wasn’t in the mood to celebrate something as inane as Fflam Fflam. The peasants would hop on any excuse to jump on top of each other and create more laborers, but she had actual work to do. A few days after the ball and a thoughtful message to Fallon about the loss of her sister later, she had found a fine ship with a captain who got decent results. Working out a deal with him was easy enough- almost everything he brought in belonged to or could be used by her and she would shelter the ship, as well as house a few men of his- but she needed to fully inspect his ship. When better to do it than during a festival, where the men would be off guard and most willing to slack off?
  "I want this in Prince Ephraim’s room, and if I don’t see him wearing it or hear him asking about it this week, then I know you’re a thief and you will never have a chance to work in the castle or a noble house again," Ceren snapped as she held out a finely decorated, sheathed sword to a trembling maidservant. Ephraim ought to remember why she needed to give him a sword after a certain childhood incident, and this was even a foreign blade, one of the first she had received from her business. The maidservant held out her hands and Ceren placed the sword in them; while she didn’t trust most of the castle servants, her own servants were busy fixing up her clothes and keeping Brynmor’s children occupied, who were more than capable of wrapping an entire castle’s worth of servants around their fingers.
  "Come, cousin. Let us inspect my newest ship and see if the crew will be worthy of my expectations," she said as she headed out straight to her carriage.
  
  / / /
  
  The ship was proving to be a good investment, according to her and Brynmor’s inspection. The hull was mostly clean and intact, though there were still plenty of barnacles stubbornly clinging for dear life. When Brynmor said he would check how much the ship could store, Ceren nodded and watched him disappear belowdeck before turning to the first mate. Lysander’s first mate was thorough (and thankfully sober) when answering her questions, though he seemed annoyed at being the only one on the ship during Fflam Fflam.
  
  An unfortunately familiar voice rang out behind her and she grimaced. How was she to know that the nobleman she had reached out to was one of Drothe’s old tormentors? To think, she could’ve kicked the trade routes out of him if she had been able to stay in the castle just a few years longer.
  “If the names are true, then they are fitting, not vicious,” Ceren replied as she smoothed down her dress. The few dreads of her hair that weren’t tied up swung gently near her face as she looked back at him. “Mocking the Crown Prince could be called treason, but I hardly advocated for your head to be removed from your body.” Even if that would’ve made things much easier for any woman who had the misfortune to meet him. She turned forward to look at her cousin when she heard his voice- until she felt a hand squeezing her rear. Bile edged up her throat and she pulled out a stiletto concealed in her sleeve as she whirled around.
  
  Rather than keep her dagger at his throat, she aimed it at something he would find more important.
  “Beg for your manhood and give me the maps I wanted. Or else you won’t be able to do much else with a woman than beg.”

[lowkey gnocchi]

• 
  The wind grew from a gentle breeze on the ground into full blown gusts of wind once at the second story, but Gabriel was used to it. Sitting on his little balcony was just part of his morning routine. He stared out at the roofs and chimneys of the slum’s buildings as sunlight started to stream through the gaps of the skyline.
  “The sun rises again and we’re still here,” a girl’s voice whispered. He could almost see her dangle her feet over the edge idly, holding up her hand to catch a sunbeam as the wind played with wispy blonde strands. She had always been so at home up here.
  
  Gabriel took one last swig of ale before setting the bottle aside, turning around, and crawling back into his house through a window. Old memories wouldn’t serve him well today, not for a festival of fertility and debauchery.
  
  
  / / / /
  
  His shirt was nearly translucent, but only because it fit the nature of Fflam Fflam and definitely not because it was so used that it had become threadbare. He decided to wear his nicest pair of pants, since this was the perfect day to gain new customers. Impress them for one day; keep them coming back for weeks. The festival was only every couple of years, but that just proved how good he was at his work. Repeat customers were the only reason he could afford to pay rent to his landlord every couple weeks for his house. It was a ramshackle mess, but he had the most rights over it, so he kept fighting to pay for the ‘privilege’ of living there. Rent would be due again in a week, and while the job at the castle had more than covered his expenses in getting ready for it, he could always use more money for his theater. Lady Asturias had been ‘kind’ enough to put in an extra handful of coins for his performance with the prince; those coins immediately went into his box for theater funds.
  
  But Fflam Fflam allowed him to mix business and pleasure, and he was more than sure he would get enough attention if he played his cards right. He tied up his hair in a braid, picked up a sign Maya had made for him, and rested one of Maya’s leftover flower crowns on his head before walking out and locking his door. Even though everyone would be focused on screwing the life out of each other, he didn’t trust them to not try doing that in his house.
  
  
  / / / /
  
  The town square was filled with plenty of couples sharing Fflam Fflam’s infamous breast shaped bread, but more importantly, there were still single people walking around and staring enviously at the couples. This was an area ripe for picking customers. Now to attract them, he needed to find a worthy target to sing about. Picking someone actually present would only cause mayhem (which he found out the hard way when he serenaded a thug’s betrothed). No, he had to pick a distinct person who wouldn’t be here. A quick glance confirmed the one Gabriel had picked wasn’t in the area, then he started to sing as he stood the sign upright. Many considered his voice to be a fine tenor and he learned how to be loud enough in Lynn’s tavern.
  “Oh a mountain is made to be climbed and a man from there is no different,” he sang. “With arms as thick and dark as tree trunks, his c**k must be-” A woman bounded towards him, glancing occasionally back at her group of giggling friends. They waved her away and eyed Gabriel.
  “Are you really selling that?” She pointed at his sign. He squinted up at Maya’s sign, which she had sworn said ‘kisses, 6 coins per kiss’, then looked back at the woman in front of him.
  “Aye, that’s what I’ll do if you have the coin,” he smiled at the brunette and held out his hand. She dug into her dress and slapped down six coins into his hand. He tucked them into his pocket, deep enough that a pickpocket would have to damn near fondle him to get to the money, then lifted up the woman’s chin and kissed her deeply. Her friends started squealing and ran up to him as soon as he released their friend, then began to press coins into his hands.
  
  Oh Gabriel just loved Fflam Fflam.
  
  LOCATION: Town square tab COMPANY: Near Monza, Coda, and anyone else near/in the bakery tab OUTFIT

[lowkey gnocchi]

• 
  Hiro hated being cold. Autumn was the harshest season to be outside because of the typhoons, but snow was uncomfortable when it melted and set into his clothes. All the small irritations added up and rubbed him raw until he had to give in to the urge to spend his money in order to go indoors and stay warm. It was easier to stay outside and watch people pass by than stay cooped up inside and wonder how long he had before he needed to find another net café to throw off anyone trying to keep tabs on him.
  “Freeter.” A nasal, feminine voice rang out and Hiro turned away from the window to face a woman with a weathered, blotchy red face. The days of living in a net café were now over, replaced by a life within a solidly built building surrounded by sprawling grounds. Rich people needed lots of people to clean and kiss their asses and Hiro needed a job.
  “That’s enough of slacking off. Go scrub the statues in the front garden. Pigeons keep hovering around them and marking them up,” the woman scowled at him and Hiro gave her a halfhearted salute before bending over to pick up the bucket and stack of cloths. So much for a job match blessed by the universe; he never had to deal with diarrhea-filled pigeons in net cafés.
  
  ▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
  
  Various statues dotted the grounds of the Sohma estate. Most were fairly clean but weathered. The ones Hiro had been ordered to clean, however, were… decorated by pigeon droppings. Thoroughly.
  "Bet these people feed pigeons and still act surprised when they get swarms," he muttered as he scrubbed down a tanuki statue. Wind scoured his face and he pulled Seigo’s handkerchief up as a makeshift mask. He had very few belongings other than the essentials (wallet, toothbrush, another set of clothes, a couple pairs of underwear, coupons for nearby convenience marts, around thirty pieces of origami, gum-), so the older man had insisted on supplying him with more clothes and a few other things like deodorant and soap of higher quality than those from net cafés which only cost a few yen. It was a nice welcome package, even if Hiro didn’t see the point in it since he would leave soon enough.
  
  He had one reason to take a job on the Sohma estates and it wasn’t to get some extra clothes. But he didn’t have a way to confirm that what he was looking for would be here just yet, so he was more than happy to gather more things and gain money while he waited. He moved from statue to statue until he ended up at a komainu at the very edge of the estate. His movements were much slower than earlier now that he knew the eagle-eyed woman wouldn’t be able to glare at him anymore.
  
  The sound of a voice ruining the calm of the quiet afternoon caused Hiro to twitch away from the noise in surprise and readiness to flee. She had to be one of the Sohmas with the way she barked out what she wanted. He already knew she wouldn’t want to hear any response, so he shuffled over to the gate and unlocked it with barely a glance directed at the woman’s face… but that was enough to make him freeze with the gate partially open.
  
  Her hair was much shorter now and her gaze struck him like a baton, but this was unmistakably the girl who had tried to save him years ago.
  "You-"
  “Live here and want to get inside to where it’s warm,” she dismissed him and pushed his arm aside with a vaguely disgusted expression. Hiro reached out to grab her wrist with one hand and pulled down the handkerchief with his other hand.
  "You’re the one who saved my life nine years ago. I know you remember me." He waited for her to respond, even though the force of her gaze hadn’t lessened.
  ◤　[edge of the estate, where the cherry trees are looking more like Halloween props rather than a shoujo staple]
  ◤　[confused]
  ◤　[the one who saved his life]

[lowkey gnocchi]

• 
  Thomas tugged his collar into place as he looked himself over in the mirror. Hair neatly brushed, belt securely tightened, and shirt tucked into his pants. The shirt was 'fun' according to Tawny, which made it perfect for today since he was going to her house. Savior's Day was the only chance he really had to celebrate with fellow Symbionts without having to train. The past few days had been spent pushing himself as far as he could in terms of his regeneration and he was looking forward to relaxing with his crew. They were owed that much before risking their lives for humanity.
  
  As the leader, he had to make sure his crew was at least present during the day. Ziv would be unlikely to show up, but Thomas knew he never liked Savior's Day. His father had prepared a party in their honor (while not explicitly inviting or denying access to the other Symbionts), and Thomas knew he could get at least Tawny to join him. He didn't want to face yet another political party on his own. Having more Symbionts show up would be for his father's benefit anyway.
  
  He scooped up the boxes of birthday gifts he had bought for his crew into a bag and eyed them. He knew he could hand over Tawny’s gifts today, but finding the others before the party would be more difficult. ...A gift was better late than never, right? He could always drop off the other gifts at their doorsteps after the party. Thomas fished out Tawny and her family's gift, straightened out the wrapping paper around them, and walked out of his home.
  
  /　/　/　/
  
  It was second nature to return the smiles directed at him and tilt his head in acknowledgement toward those who caught his attention. He took the same paths as he always did, if only to reinforce the muscle memory of going to the places he liked best. He would be back here next year too. This was just another birthday. Just like any other day, he walked into the threshold of the house of an old woman who used to ruffle his hair as a child and gave him a piece of honeycomb whenever he helped move boxes around for her. He stepped back and ducked underneath the threshold, but the surprise was already ruined. The old woman had already turned around at the sound and was waiting for him to come in.
  "You're a young man now, eh? But your skull still has to be strong as iron," she smiled indulgently and he laughed.
  "I thought I was already a young man, May. You've called me that since I was fourteen." Was that really only four years ago? The years were all starting to run together.
  "Officially," she waved him closer and he walked over to her. "But you'll always be a little boy to me." Thomas bent down and May ruffled his hair, then slid her hand down to cup his cheek.
  "Does that mean I can never try your 'special tea'?" he pouted and the woman cackled.
  "Go on, you have better things to do than spend your day with me." She pinched his cheek for good measure and he winced dramatically before pulling away. Movement from behind her caught his eye as the cloth partition at the back of the room was pushed aside to reveal May's granddaughter and her patented scowl. Thomas smiled at her, but that only seemed to irritate her even more. Rather than risk her wrath, he waved goodbye and made his way to Tawny's house.
  
  /　/　/　/
  
  Overdoing it during training yesterday was catching up to him. The ache building up in his body was hard to maintain at a steady level, but he couldn’t risk being sent to the hospital by trying to get rid of it entirely. It was easy to keep his mind off the pain with how enthusiastically Tawny and her family celebrated their birthday. Thomas handed over a gift of paints to Tawny’s mother so she could continue to brighten up the house and gratefully accepted his shirt from them. It would obviously have to be vetted by his father’s consultants before it could be worn, but surely he could wear it to training.
  Tawny’s painting of trees was a reminder of the pleasant possibilities that awaited them aboveground. Maybe things would be okay and the crew could explore the world up there before having to face any splicers.
  
  But first, there was a party to attend.
  
  /　/　/　/
  
  “All we’ll have to do is walk around and say nice things to rich people. Then we can eat as much as we want,” Thomas shrugged. It was a typical party but his father knew to always stock up on enough food to account for a Symbiont’s metabolism. He ushered her into his house before heading up to his room, pulling on his blazer, and grabbing the bag of gifts. Maybe the others would want to show up, if only for free food. The thought of Nezumi trying to socialize and not punch politicians made Thomas snort. She only liked one politician and he was not interested in her.
  
  He headed back downstairs and offered his arm to Tawny, who was now wearing a dress.
  “You look wonderful. Now let’s go get this bread,” he said and inclined his head toward the basket of bread one of his servants was taking outside.
  
  /　/　/　/
  
  Politicians swarmed around them as the Symbionts walked outside, making polite chitchat and offhand comments wondering about the state of the world aboveground. Thomas smiled and stuck to statements of appreciation for their presence to get through the crowd as soon as possible. Shaking hands was a quick moment when he had a whole gathering of politicians to get through. He caught a glimpse of his father in the middle of the crowd; he would make a speech soon. Hopefully that would be enough to draw their attention away from him and Tawny long enough for them to eat.




Quote:

HP: 64/64　　　STA: 60/70

[lowkey gnocchi]

• Anori managed to fend off the other pirate who tried climbing onto the ship, while Anja focused on pushing back the pirate who had managed to get onboard. With Anori’s help, the man was quickly sent overboard. Anja sighed in relief and stepped back from the edge of the ship, grunting in dismay when Anori decided to go for a hug and ask about her arm.
  
  “I’m fine, I can still move it.” The blood felt itchy as it trickled down her arm and dried. He had a point when he said the wound needed to be cleaned and bound. No one else was currently attempting to climb up the hull and she couldn’t hear anyone coming towards them- though there were plenty of yells coming from within the ship. Anori’s silent pleas to look at her wound were hard to ignore when it started to throb with pain.
  
  “Be quick.” He could clean it up while they checked on the others. Tallying up the possibilities of the other (mainly) important crewmates surviving was a welcome distraction from his coos and murmurs of sympathy as he examined her arm. Horacio and Wally were experienced sailors; they would be fine, with only minor wounds at worst. Griff was… unsettling enough to make attackers prefer avoiding him. Imogene would fight tooth and claw to be free, but Anja hoped she had someone more skilled or a weapon with her. Morgan knew how to use a wine bottle. The doctor seemed capable enough. Usually. But Solomon…
  
  She could still feel the rush of dread as his hands gripped her shoulders and he kept trying to say something. She couldn’t even hear him through the pounding of her head and the urge to vomit intensified the closer he got. He couldn’t be the one she had known, he was-
  
  Anori rubbed her open wound with a cloth and the pain brought Anja back to the moment. Daylight. Ship Assurance. Battle. The Orange likely still had a full crew and would be able to make it to Skara Island just fine. She let him tie a tourniquet on her arm and waved him ahead.
  “I want some more fresh air. There shouldn’t be anyone close to us,” she said and tried to peer through the fog. It was still too thick to notice anything, but there was some movement in the distance. The fog eased up slightly, just enough to reveal a prow. Was this where the Ship Assurance members came from? But its sails were filled with a wind despite the still air and Anja shivered as the ship swung into full view. There was no one on deck as the ship continued to drift on, until the fog reclaimed it.
  “Fogfyre…” she whispered. “Brings fog and ruin, then takes it just as fast.” When Anori asked her what she meant, Anja shook her head. She didn’t want the ship to take anymore notice of them than it already had. They could use the change in luck.
  
  Anja lead the way further into the ship, a hand always on her whip, until she saw shadows moving ahead of them and heard a sharp crack.
  “Be ready,” she warned Anori, then crept forward. “There you all are.” She smiled at Morgan and inclined her head toward Wally.
  “We better find the others.” Barely sparing a glance at Solomon and the unconscious man at his feet, she quickly turned away to look for anyone approaching them. He was none of her concern and he seemed to have not lost any limbs. Too bad, the doctor was itching for a new test subject.

[lowkey gnocchi]

• 
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  “Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken.” Oscar Wilde
  
  If fortune finds you and the twilight ancients bless you with mysterious luck, you could discover Naturally Blessed Bundle, Ascended Bundle , Punk All Day Bundle, Beautician License, Stylist License, Accessory License, Rainbow Ticket, or even a Flaired Up Ticket! While the top prizes are limited, no matter how many times you play you'll always win a special premium item from the Kingdom of Twilight!
  
  

[lowkey gnocchi]

The fish were particularly talkative and lively today. Amaris was glad since that meant their attempts to bond with the species in this area had succeeded. Maybe they could even help track down unknown species to report in their book.
"What do you see in the water?" they asked the leader as she darted around Amaris' feet.
"Many fish going. Hunter fish too." The leader burbled and they frowned. Why were fish fleeing? It was hard enough keeping track of the migration patterns when they maintained the same path. But what could force them out? The king had made no announcements to change the docks or drain the area.
"What happened?" they asked.
"Strong magic. Push pull away." The follower fish twitched away from Amaris and dove further beneath the dock. "Hold your breath." And then the leader disappeared too.

Ominous. The warm breeze from the sea did nothing to ease their worry as Amaris grabbed their shoes and stood up slowly. They took in a deep breath right before a wave of fog rolled in and held it as ordered, despite seeing no reason to do so.
They instead heard the reason as a nearby fisherman dropped like a sack of rocks. Then another and another. Amaris nearly let out a squeak when a snoring man fell onto them and they (somewhat) gently shoved him to the side. It looked like almost everyone at the docks was fast asleep for some reason. She let out a shaky breath and slowly breathed in again, ready to hold it again if she felt woozy. But she felt fine and safe enough to look around. There were a couple of people closer to the land who were actually standing! On their own feet and not propped up by a mast!
"Hello!" she warbled as she walked over to them, until their blank stares reminded her that of course they didn't know Aquan since they lived abovewater. "Sorry, hello. I'm glad I'm not the only one who stayed awake. The fish said to hold my breath like they do, but I never thought this would happen." The dragonborn kept scanning the area, but unless he could see through the fog, he was as blind as she was. The tiefling seemed scared and Amaris offered her a smile.
"I'd shake your hand if I didn't have..." She lifted up her shoes.

She squinted back at the horizon. Figures bobbed in the water and they slowly headed towards the docks.
"Seems like we might have some visitors making those noises." She sent out a friendly greeting in Aquan, but got no response. Maybe they just couldn't hear her but still wanted to help. The somewhat jerky movements of their limbs didn't persuade her very well.