EVENT & TDM 034

[sticksandbonesmods]

WAKE UP

Cleaving across the sky of Aldric’s Grove is a deep black gouge — a rift, an open wound, that blots out the sun and moon in their respective orbits. Looking into the rift so high in the sky yields little; it’s too high up to actually see into it, but on occasion, flashes of the cosmos seem to flit through it.

Then, as the current residents of the Grove might say, people start to fall out of it, tumbling through the skies and painfully through the sky barrier preventing those on the ground from reaching those falling. New arrivals will find themselves careening through the stars and suddenly through a constantly-reforming magic barrier that feels like glass against their skin. Lucky arrivals will be caught on the backs of either a large, rainbow bird, or a golden scaled dragon — Aurora, the Sky Guardian and Sehul, the Sun’s Aide, respectively — before they hit the ground and become a smear in the grass. Unlucky arrivals won’t hit the ground thanks to timely aid from the remaining Guardians, though it’s a tossup which hurts worse: getting caught in a conjured bush made of thorny vines to break the fall thanks to Moder, getting tackled out of the sky by the tiny stone-skinned gargoyle Zahliya and rolling across the grass with him, or being grabbed by a mass of Callan’s tentacles only for him to decide he might deliver to you a “hello” bite.

At least the River Guardian Sinann sees fit to heal your wounds.

The magic here feels thin, everyone notices. New arrivals may find out from the old hats that magic was nigh nonexistent for several months, and the steady trickle of it returning has been akin to running the tap through a snowstorm — a drip, drip, drip, but the pipes still appear to be mostly-frozen regardless.

It’s just as people stop falling from the rift that the pipes finally burst.

PERCEPTION CHECK!

Suddenly, magic in Aldric’s Grove is unfamiliar and foreign. Those of you with existing magic and similar powers may find that your abilities are uncontrollable — that candle you were going to light with your fire magic is suddenly entirely melted and your bedroom is ablaze, or the healing magic you tried to use bursts outward from you so strongly that it saps all of your energy for the rest of the day when all you wanted to do was patch up a scratch. Things like this are a common occurrence, as though you’re a brand-new spellcaster all over again.

In addition to this, the magically-inclined and perfectly benign alike will feel something else brewing beneath the surface: the Grove’s own native magic suddenly becoming your own. This, too, is impossible to control — visions from the Blessing of Foresight plague your mind, the alchemy granted by the Blessing of Life shatters the vials of potions you attempt to make, and the summons from the Blessing of Conjuration do not heed your command. The elemental spells now at your fingertips are far more destructive than you intended them to be. Whether you’re an experienced caster or not, the leylines of the Grove remain wild and untamed, lashing out from months of suppression.

At least when the occasional monster strolls its way into the Grove past the flickering barrier of the fog wall, it’ll be instantly vaporized by you trying to use your abilities on it. Probably. You may just nuke yourself from orbit in the process instead.

-Players should scroll down to the “magic” section on the linked page for the full breadth of their abilities that can be freely played with.
-Magic from each Blessing is available to use up to Tier 3; the Gifts of the Sun & Moon are unavailable.

ROLL FOR INITIATIVE

With the chaos of the Grove being new and different, Ydalir the Trader takes it upon herself to find as many old spellbooks as she possibly can. This native magic has been untapped for eons, and with the sudden influx of random fireballs and ice storms every three and a half seconds, she’s taken it upon herself to dig up the ancient texts.

Unfortunately, they are ancient. Ydalir sits in the centre of the Grove and waves everyone she can see over, you included, before handing out random tomes with discoloured and dusty pages. She’s surrounded by them, towers upon towers of unsorted texts walling her off from most viewing angles. “I think I need help sorting these. And identifying them. And seeing if they’re even in a language that makes sense to people. There are hundreds and I’m stressed.”

She punctuates that with a laugh.

“You can keep any tomes you like or that you think will help you get a handle on things. Ooh, and I’ll give whoever helps sort these dusty old books properly and neatly into the library — no cheating, and don’t lie to me — some candy. I made it yesterday.”

Unfortunately, Ydalir imbues her candy with magic, too, and with it being haywire… you can expect effects, depending on what you eat. Have fun! Or don’t! She’s not your mom!

Chocolate Hearts	You turn invisible for 10 minutes, but your invisible form is surrounded by floating pops of heart-shaped fireworks.
Rootbeer Bottle Candies	You are completely immune to the effects of alcohol for 4 hours. When the immunity wears off, you immediately experience a type of drunkness that can only be described as "4 hours of drinking at the New Year's Eve party".
Cat-Shaped Sugar Candies	Wherever you go for the next 15 minutes, you do so by sprinting, leaping, and swatting at things uncontrollably. AKA: you have the zoomies.
Spiral Jawbreakers	You are instantly teleported to a different location in the Grove, forest, or beach. Anyone next to you is also teleported to that same location.
Gummy Pasta	Your hair grows uncontrollably long for 1 hour. Chopping it off only makes it regrow. After 1 hour, it will automatically return to the length it was previously.
Spicy Cinnamon Candies	Every time you exhale for 30 minutes, a small burst of flame comes from your throat. A harder exhale will let you breathe fire that smells like cinnamon.

SHORT REST

The month drags on and on. Every morning someone casts Fireball. Every night, someone’s summon bursts through a window, steals your food, and runs. Luckily, the chaos starts to slow as the magic flowing through the leylines is finally used up, and the Grove’s natural magic — and your own native abilities — start to listen to you again. It makes resting easier, at the very least. No longer do you have to wait for your window to automatically repair itself after something smashes it.

You know, unless someone wants to start throwing completely mundane stones at it.

With everything settling back into a sense of normalcy again, Ydalir is… still doing things. She never apologised for her candies setting off a chain reaction of chaos, but this time, she’s not feeding you. Kind of. “If you want to stay connected to the leylines here and maintain some of the magic native to this place, here’s a spellbook for you to write your spells in, and—” she slams a leather-bound journal into your lap, a quill on top of it next to a small crystal that looks like it’s made of quartz. “A star shard! You’ll need to eat that to anchor yourself to the magic here. It’ll taste like sugar, uh… and it won’t do anything weird to you this time, I’m so sorry. Anyway, you should go out and practice with your peers! It’ll make all of this easier.”

If you head out, it looks like you aren’t the only person who’s been snagged for a bit of a magic lesson. It might be worth asking the more experienced spellcasters to help you with whatever new school of magic you picked up, or you could grab a study-buddy that’s on your tier… or you could just rawdog it and see what happens. Surely it won’t be as catastrophic as when you tried to do that throughout the month.

-New characters that app while this TDM is good (March + April) & existing characters already in the game will be grandfathered into the magic system, automatically gaining one Tier One Blessing of their choice without the initial 10-thread buy-in. The rules on the page must still be followed.
-Existing characters with ties to Beiwe & Ourania are free to pick up Gifts of the Sun & Moon at this point, instead of a Blessing.

Spark Notes (Click to Expand)

summary

WAKE UP: New arrivals to the Grove are falling out of the sky! They will be caught by the Guardians, but they'll be injured. Please help them.
PERCEPTION CHECK!: Everyone's magic goes out of control, and new magic starts to spring up and be freely used. No one asked for this but you sure do have it!
ROLL FOR INITIATIVE: Ydalir needs your help sorting through these magic tomes. You're free to read them and try to make sense of anything in them as well as claim one for yourself if you find it useful. When you help her, you will receive candy that has Effects™ in it. Whoops!
SHORT REST: Magic levels start to equalize, and no longer is life a struggle magic-wise. Ydalir will give you a star shard if you'd like to anchor yourself to the Grove's magic and keep some of what you've learnt.

out of character

It's March! Reminder that TDMs are game canon. Don't mind my notes on the prompts this time (but do mind them because I need you to follow the rules also). Questions about the magic system should ideally be directed on the magic page itself. Also does someone know how to get anchor/jump links to work on my magic page because no matter what I did it wasn't registering my div id tags and I'm starting to go insane... please let me know thanks-

updates

Any potential updates, such as characters damaging something important or whatever else, will be put here.

submissions

❖ Questions
❖ March Plotting
❖ Past Life Plotting (Closed to Game Members)
❖ Investigations

code

Comments

[ofboreas]

Does it feel good to be back? I can't imagine one of the greatest witches to ever exist has been particularly happy, not being at her best.

[There's a light, teasing note to his voice, one that matches the now impish smile that he wears. This is better than before. Before was dangerous, and they both knew it.]

I thought maybe it was the magic being weird! Figured I could, ah, overcome my limits. And I did, in a manner of speaking! [He huffs, but it's all in good fun.] Besides, I think the fact that you nearly took out a wall tells you why I'm not bandying about. One wrong move and I'd be halfway to the sun!

[quietangel]

Are you complimenting me to conceal your embarrassment?

[ She isn’t going to let you off that easily, Varka, sorry to say. Her wings flutter idly behind her as she turns towards the bar proper, searching the premises for the conjured Seelie. They were milling about one of the tables at this point but, thankfully, were not trying to spirit away any of the building's contents. Not yet, at least. ]

I don’t think it would be a terrible idea to test all of your limits. If you truly launched yourself that far I would simply retrieve you! Nothing to worry about.

[ofboreas]

What, can't a guy be worried about his friend? And happy that she's got her groove back? You ought to show me what you've been practicing, you know!

[It's a little of column a, a little of column b, really. He is pleased to know that Nicole seems to be returning to form. That said, if he inflates her ego a little bit more, maybe his own shame will be put on the back burner.

Probably not, considering.]

That so? You know, it's getting a little embarrassing, you having to come to my rescue all of the time. Isn't it supposed to be the knight sweeping the maiden off her feet?

[quietangel]

I'm not certain that would be such a good idea at present. While some of my magic has been stabilized through force of will, a significant portion of it is still... unpredictable. I would be concerned about setting half the town ablaze.

[ With a faint hum, Nicole directs her gaze from Varka's face to the top of his head. A part of her wants to pet his head again... maybe if she asked very nicely...? He had reacted in such a particular way, and her curiosity is only tempered by her own desire to maintain proper airs.

Still. She rubs at her chin, eyes briefly closed. ]

In stories, yes, but that usually isn't the case for witches or mages... they're so rarely characterized as both maiden and witch. Usually, a maiden possesses no magical prowess at all!

[ofboreas]

Mm. And unlike you coming to my rescue, I probably couldn't do the same. [His Anemo would only fan the flames, or perhaps even make them worse. What a tricky situation.] Guess I'll have to wait a little longer for a proper display.

[It isn't lost on Varka, the way her eyes drift. Even though the Seelie had made themselves busy with a table within his view, he can't help but direct his gaze upward. Perhaps another had drifted in.]

Well, if you ask me, I prefer a maiden with a little fight in her. [And then, promptly realizing exactly what he's said, Varka clears his throat.] You know, in the stories, I mean. It's - it's better when things are equal!

[quietangel]

I suppose… depending on the setting and the specific circumstances… it might not be such a terrible thing. I have heard, and read, that there are monsters that prowl just beyond a wall of fog. If we were to direct our collective ire, so to speak, there…

[ Hopefully the implication is clear enough: we could afford to let loose, uncontrolled ability or not.

Although that is firmly on her mind, Varka manages to surprise her yet again. His choice of words is one thing, but his reaction… she can hardly help herself. She laughs, clear and bright as a bell, directly into his mind. He was in rare form today. Was the alcohol still addling his senses after all? ]

No, please, elaborate! What other kinds of traits does this hypothetical maiden possess?

[ofboreas]

That so? Funny, because I've more or less heard the same. [Already there's a glint in his eyes, excitement over a potential adventure — a fight to be had.] But I've also heard we need special gear to explore there. Probably want to make sure we're well-prepped for the expedition, no matter what it might be.

[Her laugh cuts straight through his armor and lashes at his chest. Dimly, he recalls the feeling of her fingers in his hair, and the way she seemed to be at her brightest when she teased him. The thoughts rattle about dangerously, more potent than ever.]

C'mon, you don't want to hear about what an old man likes to read! We've got better things to focus on. Oh, like - what brought you here to bother me about anyway.

[quietangel]

Surely there are creatures "closer to home", so to speak? Beyond those that I have seen more or less patrolling, as those seem to be closer to minor deities. I did glimpse a number of our fellow residents testing their newfound mettle against monsters not too far out of the way.

[ In attempting to steer the conversation away, Varka has truly only succeeded in piquing Nicole's interest. Was he truly that bashful over what manner of novels he chose to read? Did that imply that he was spending the majority of what downtime he afforded to reading to pore over romance novels? As a prospective novelist herself, it was only natural to be curious about the man's literary interests!

Whatever had brought her here—and, honestly, she scarcely remembers now—could be addressed later. She has set her sights firmly on questioning Varka about what he likes to read. ]

I would actually like to hear about it! I'm not sure if you're aware, but I am quite fond of novels. It is important for a writer to know her audience, potential or otherwise! Do you read many romance novels, Mr. Varka? I would not have initially thought you the type, but…

[ Wings flitting energetically, Nicole leans back to give Varka a searching look. Initial appearance often was deceiving, especially where humans were concerned… and Varka was a man of Mondstadt, a city defined by the importance of freedom. What was more fitting for a city of freedom than expounding upon the freedoms of the heart?

All the puzzle pieces were falling into place. ]

Actually, I can see it now. You must tell me more. Immediately.

[ofboreas]

If we're just staying at the perimeter and picking off whatever comes through, that's a different story. In fact, I'm willing to head out right now!

[Yes, he is absolutely trying to scuttle away before the conversation pitches back toward the more unpleasant topic of his preferred reading. And naturally, the effort fails before he can even get it off the ground. Though he manages to turn his back on Nicole and take a step toward the door, he stops short and grimaces. Only once he's gone through the motions of his displeasure does he turn back with a half smile.]

You really want to talk about this here? In a bar? Think the better question would be "What do you like to drink, Varka" or "What have you been eating today, Varka?"

Wine, and stew, by the way.

[With Nicole's eyes on him now, he knows there's no escaping the line of questioning. And so he finds himself sighing wearily.]

Freedom is a very romantic concept, right? It only makes sense that some of our books might have some fanciful ideas of what it looks like. It's not quite what you'd see out of Fontaine, nor is it as... imaginative as a light novel from Inazuma.

But c'mon, every kid grows up with stories of heroes winning the day and the hearts of their beloved. I might have grown up questioning them, but they were still core parts of my youth all the same.

[quietangel]

[ Sorry, Varka, you won't be spared this indignity!

Nicole is smiling when Varka turns around. And, to his credit, she has advanced further towards the door. The flitting Seelie, as if wordlessly summoned, drift from their curiosity to the entrance to the Watchtower is if in anticipation of departure. Or, perhaps, in anticipation of guidance needed. Not that their ability to do so was any more advanced than Nicole's.

Varka's answer is expectedly, but disappointingly, vague. It speaks to none of his current interests. The fact he had protested her asking about the readings of an old man only to speak on stories from his youth… Nicole's expression flits quickly from smiling to a faint enough annoyance that her brow is barely furrowed. ]

You are being incredibly vague. Is it truly that embarrassing?

[ She makes her way to the door, pulling it open enough to imply, wordlessly, that she was suggesting they depart. ]

If it is the setting that is making you unwilling to talk about it, we can leave. We can head towards the perimeter, and you can actually answer my question. I asked about what you were reading now, not what stories you were raised on.

[ofboreas]

[Someone is more than glad to take the opportunity to flee as offered. It won't get him away from Nicole, but at least he can excuse himself from some of the mess he's made. The fresh air will also do him some good, he thinks. Maybe he can think a bit clearly about the question being asked and figure out a better way to dodge it?]

Perimeter's a good call, yeah. [Another attempt at dodging the question, but one he doubts will last. Nicole is unrelenting, and as long as she's at his side, she's going to keep pressing the matter.

Which... actually gives him an idea.]

Bet I can beat you there -

[He doesn't give her a chance to respond. Instead, he turns his gaze skyward and leaps - full force of anemo and then some behind him. Predictably, he wobbles a little as he goes higher than ever, but he knows how to channel the wind currents enough to soften his landing some several yards away.

From his distant vantage point, he turns back around to wave at her.]

What's keepin' ya?!

[quietangel]

[ Was Varka truly that eager to evade a seemingly simple question? Was it that embarrassing? There were a number of humans that she had polled over their preferred choice of novel and they hadn't balked anywhere near this dramatically.

The mere fact that Varka borderline scurries out the door and flings himself halfway across the nearest clearing in order to physically evade her line of questioning… it both rankles Nicole and, ridiculously, charms her? Somehow? In a manner of speaking?

Unluckily for Varka, she is both capable of flight and of mental communication. While he is able to leap great distances, her lightwoven wings are quick to close that gap with a wilting sigh delivered directly betwixt his ears. She isn't quite embodying disappointment just yet, but it is a close thing. ]

Are you running from me?

[ofboreas]

[In the wake of his split second decision, Varka hadn't really considered the fact that distance wouldn't do much of anything in this scenario. He finds himself grimacing, but he'd be nothing if he didn't commit to the bit so — off he goes, leaping one more time. It has him in the trees, landing deftly on a branch before leaping down once more — mercifully free of that wall of fog, thankfully.]

Now, why would I be running from you? You think the Knight of Boreas runs from anything? [He is, and he would, in this case. But even as he reflects on that nattering voice and rapidly approaching wings, it's clear his options are running out.]

I don't suppose you'd settle for "I haven't had time to read in the last few years"?

[quietangel]

[ If this were any other circumstance, Nicole might actually want to make a game out of this. There was something undeniably entertaining about witnessing the speed with which Varka is able to fling himself across the landscape. It is almost equally as entertaining to match that speed with her own vigor, even if it is concentrated on flight rather than… literal leaps and bounds.

As she alights down alongside him, there is a faint flush of pleasure riding high enough on her cheeks to give her a charmingly rosy tint! If she does say so herself. Which she would. Any great mage would sing her own praises given the opportunity, after all, and she is nothing if not a great mage.

The Seelie come bobbing along at a far less intensive pace, flickering in and out of visibility as they brush through the clustered leaves of the forest's trees. She pays them remarkably little mind as she plants her hands on her hips. It is a borderline triumphant pose, as if she has achieved something great by trailing alongside him. ]

If that were the truth of it, why not simply tell me as much when I first asked? I likely would have believed you, given the circumstances.

[ofboreas]

[An angel is, of course, naturally radiant. Varka's at least reasonably sure of that fact, considering the appearance of the few he's met. The seelie, too, were evidence enough of this. Yet in that moment, Nicole — flushed in the face yet triumphant all the same — looks positively ethereal.

For the second time during this particular outing, Varka's heart begins to thump unevenly. He finds himself taking a step toward her, driven by some wild and romantic inclinations, before remembering where they are and what they're supposed to be doing.

He holds his hands up placatingly.]

Alright, you caught me. [It isn't entirely untrue that he's been too busy to read. He didn't need to tell Nicole how chaotic things had been in Nod Krai over the last handful of months. Even still, he'd managed to stumble onto one particular tale recently:] There's one story I've been stuck on lately.

It's a tragedy, mostly, but a romantic one at that. An impassioned youth meets a beautiful immortal and together they change the world.

Those are the kinds of stories that stick with me.

[quietangel]

[ Nicole, perhaps predictably, does not exactly shy away from the proximity. In the same breath, she does remarkably little to grow nearer. She is the picture of the perfect arbiter of neutrality, unwavering in the face of Varka's fluttering heart.

A heart that she is, at least for the moment, utterly unaware of. She smiles at him with that same unabashed warmth that she reserves for the majority of their interactions, ignorant in the way only a creature of her remarkable age could be.

His answer does not surprise her. It suits him! She says as much with only a hint of teasing. ]

You do seem the type to enjoy that type of story. Were there grand battles interspersed with moments of hushed and genuine passion? Did the passionate protagonist steal away from the battlefield to have moon-dappled, heartfelt discussions of a future that could never be with this beautiful immortal? It sounds like the perfect story to me… other than the fact that I would ultimately guide their fate to a happy one instead of having it end in tragedy. I hate tragic stories.

[ Perhaps that says something about how she views her own predicament! Who’s to say! ]

[ofboreas]

[Given the conversation at hand, Varka cannot help but think of his own actions through the lens of a storybook. He might close the distance between them, to take her face into his hands. He might look upon her as the Frostmoon Scions looked upon the moon — awestruck and reverent.

And in that story, the words might be the same as those he speaks aloud now:]

How would you change it, then?

[Right now, as his thoughts drift to just a few nights prior, something begins to stir within his chest. What he should consider is the knife that Nicole mentioned, at how drinking of this fountain now would only harm them later. But as his hands settle at his sides, he ponders the way they had fit around her hips.

It's a dangerous game they're playing now.]

[quietangel]

[ With a memory as trustworthy as hers, it is little wonder that she still recalls the moment in her inn room with vivid clarity. It is less of an embarrassment now and more of a persistent curiosity. Against all odds, and surely against her better judgement, she finds herself drifting closer still.

Surely it would not be so terrible. They were both steadfast individuals with an intelligent mind for strategy. However… Varka is also asking the question about how she might adjust a novel to be better-suited to her vision, and that is one assured way to divert her attention.

Nicole lifts a hand to her chin as she ruminates. ]

Hmm! It would affect the appeal of a potentially forbidden or ill-conceived romance to remove every obstacle in their path… it would make a happy ending seem far less triumphant or hard-fought. Perhaps it could be as simple as ensuring they achieved victory in the end, seemingly against all odds. Pit them against some grandiose evil, where both of their respective abilities could shine… and, of course, the beautiful immortal would dazzle their mortal lover with their prowess, to stave off any disillusionment about their relationship. And in the end, the mortal would have their life prolonged, so that they could exist together in happiness for the rest of their days!

[ofboreas]

[Nicole moves closer, and so does Varka. It is a planetary dance, gravity pulling them toward mutually assured destruction. Their collision would only end in disaster, even if the end itself was somehow delayed. That doesn't make his palms itch any less for a touch of her skin, or his breath hitch at the thought of sharing itself with her.]

It's not a bad idea. Just got one problem, though. [When did his voice grow so low? It feels like a secret shared between the two of them. Maybe it is a secret. The less people that know, the less likely word is to spread back toward the powers that be. Maybe the wrath of the heavens was simply delayed.

But he hadn't been stricken down for his earlier transgression yet. That fact alone does wonders to embolden him.]

You act like the immortal is anything less than dazzling as they are. If you ask me, an angel like that is radiant even when they're distracted. And especially when their brow gets pinched in thought. [His whistle is a drawn out one.] And don't get me started on how she scolds her mortal companion.

[Does he notice the slip? Maybe. Does he care? Absolutely not.]

[quietangel]

[ Before she has entirely noticed, Nicole's lips have curled into a conspiratorial smile. For being so embarrassed about pushing his head into her hand earlier, Varka has apparently swiveled to the opposite end of the spectrum in record time. She lifts a hand to delicately cover her mouth with her fingertips, though it does remarkably little to quell how she starts to laugh. The trials and tribulations of psychic speech were many.

The fact that Varka was taking this hypothetical scenario so seriously meant something: he had firmly immersed himself in this conceptual tale, and was surely acting out the preferred steps mentally even in the midst of their discussion. Nicole could tease him about that, but a smaller part of her is magnetized to the shamelessness of it all.

Forbidden romance had long been a tantalizing subject matter in novella for nearly as long as they had existed. Star-crossed lovers, bonds forged between individuals that could never be, passion evoked in dire circumstances… it was a classic.

Nicole glances up from beneath her lashes, smile sharpening just enough to imply intent, and then she sweeps away in a cascade of hair. Her steps are jaunty enough that she almost seems to be dancing rather than merely stepping. ]

Gosh, Mr. Varka. It certainly sounds like you might be fond of this character! I'd be careful what you say, lest it scald any listening ears.

[ofboreas]

[Nicole's reminder should be what grounds him. It should serve as a reminder that he cannot simply say what he wishes before her. A glance around their surroundings, however, quickly refutes whatever caution she offers. The assurance prompts him to move forward, giving chase to her delicate, prancing movements.]

Oh, don't worry. My thoughts are nothing short of gentlemanly when it comes to that particular heroine. [He flashes a smile, all charm and warmth.] A character of her stature and abilities... it wouldn't do for a guy like me to think of her in any other way.

[But he has. Ever since her hands had traced his face, he'd been caught up in those thoughts. The fingers in his hair had awoken that desire again, especially in his inebriated state, and sobriety hadn't yet brought his feet down to the ground.]

But even if I did... could you blame me? Surely you've thought the same thing about Seutervoinen from time to time. A descender with big ideas, enraptured by the wisdom of an angel. You can't tell me that doesn't sound a little charming.

[quietangel]

[ Varka trailing so closely behind wrestles up that same impulse from earlier when she had been flitting after him as he leapt through the forest. An urge to run, or chase, or be chased, if only because it sounded fun and she could hardly predict what might happen at the climactic moment of such a game.

She turns at an angle to watch him advance, eyes sparkling with a mischief that extends to her twitching wings. ]

I'm not certain I believe you. That would require you to be the perfect gentleman, and I am not quite convinced that that label entirely fits you. Not that I would speak ill of you in such a fashion – it is simply a hunch of mine.

[ Nicole taps a finger thoughtfully against the side of her chin, making a show of truly musing over it. What did she think about the story of Koitar and Seutervoinen? Well – it was one thing to simply contemplate it from the perspective of a creature cursed due to those decisions. In that way, she had once simply viewed Seutervoinen as a distant catalyst to a series of unfortunate events. Lately, with renewed and steady contact with humanity…

Well. The idea of a promised true freedom, to escape hand in hand with the one you could never be with in your assigned roles… to share the wisdom of the ages and run across the stars, guided by an angel's sense of direction and a traveler's ambition… it did sound a little charming. ]

A little. [ She allows, cheekily. ]

[ofboreas]

You don't think Seutervoinen had his flaws?

[Temptation grips Varka, and he finds himself reaching out. Her hair is long enough that he can reach out and brush his fingers through the tips as she moves, a gesture just as teasing as any other. Even such a fleeting touch sends a deep thrill through him, and he finds himself swallowing a longing sigh as the sensation fades.]

A perfect gentleman doesn't overthrow the very foundation of the world, you know. That takes a certain amount of ambition, and ambition like that is bound to bleed through here and there.

[He can practically see it. Seutervoinen, ready to change the world in his own way, only to meet Koitar. Bound by the will of the divinity he railed against, it was easy to imagine how he would have changed the very course of his own life to free her from that fate.

And you didn't reach that point without a few ungentlemanly thoughts. Maybe not explicit ones, but certainly ones of a personal nature.]

If you ask me, he and I have quite a bit in common.

[quietangel]

Every creature in existence is created with flaws. In a way, it is what makes them perfect. They are all perfectly, beautifully flawed.

[ The faint sensation of Varka's fingertips brushing through the ends of her hair is almost a ticklish sensation. It barely registers, initially, given the distance it must travel to reach her scalp. When it does, it is so fleeting that it is nearly immediately replaced by a longing for something more concrete.

She had brushed her fingers through Varka's hair not long ago. What would it feel like to have that favor returned in kind? Her wings flutter again, quick enough to be rapid fire. ]

I am beginning to think this analogy is a bit on the nose.

[ Nicole turns on her heel to face Varka fully. Rather than standing in place, though, she instead walks backwards with her eyes firmly fixed on his face. Perhaps he might find an invitation there if he looked closely enough? ]

To what other avenues does this ambition bleed? To introspection? To desire?

[ofboreas]

[Quick though the motion is, it is not lost on Varka. He wonders, hopes even, that his words have had an effect. That he is surely not the only one left wanting after the display of the other night. Overwhelmed, he had run away, but it wasn't simply because of his own shame, rather -

Well. Nicole's question hits it square on the nose, doesn't it?]

A bit of both, wouldn't you say?

[Her position invites contact, and Varka gladly gives it. One arm snakes around her, coiling around one side and laying palm down on the opposite. He reels her in easily, though with enough space to not outright invite contact. There's also room for her to slip away, should he be reading it wrong.

Barbatos does he hope that's not the case, though.]

I think he'd want to share that introspection with Koitar. He'd invite her to taste freedom and pursue it carefully at first. And if she found it worthwhile, he'd hope it'd bleed into a desire to pursue him in kind.

[His free hand settles between her ear and jaw, fingers briefly toying with the strands of her hair more brazenly, before sliding further downward. In the end, he holds her chin between a thumb and forefinger.]

But he'd leave the choice to her. He was an outsider, a mere mortal who could only barely fathom how dangerous the fountain he led her to could be. If she was to take a drink, it'd have to be of her own choice.