WEEKS 7 & 8

[linkupmods]

WEEKS 7 & 8

THE SEASONS TURN...

Time really passes, doesn't it? Before you know it, you're halfway through the time that the goddess Braphine has promised that you'll be here, your home away from home. You are starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, maybe, even through all the challenges and eventful (!) twist and turns that have followed you through your stay here. Surely there can't be anything else lurking in the wings, right?

Through the efforts of all of Braphine's chosen, the city definitely is starting to feel a little bit cheerier, in contrast to the temperatures that are starting to cool as the seasons in Sunset City turn and the leaves change their colour. The Shopping District and the Entertainment District look and feel decidedly more warm, and a quick trip into the Nekyia also show that the haze has cleared from both districts, with the Shadows lurking much fewer in number.

Further exploration will find that the haze has thinned to explorable levels in the Nekyia Fashion District - there are Shadows to be cleared, after all. Maybe if you are lucky, they might drop you a little something in reward for your efforts.

DO YOUR PART FOR CHARITY!

On Saturday, there's a notice pinned in the lobby of the dormitory:

CHARITY EVENT FOR THE TEMPLE OF BRAPHINE
9/21
FLEA MARKET AM
FORMAL MASQUERADE BALL PM
Come and support the temple when we need it most!



Yes, you read that right: There will be a Charity Event for the Temple of Braphine, hosted by no one other than her devoted followers. They sent this over to the dorms to request the Chosens' assistance, it seems, and as the flyer says, this is an all-day event to take place on September 21st.

In the morning, there will be a Flea Market! There's a note from the hosts that they'd like the Chosens to either find a vendor to assist, provide entertainment, or participate as vendors in the Flea Market. At night, a ball will be held with live music, dinner, refreshments, and an open dance floor for all. They are not asking for your assistance with the ball, however; rather, you are automatically invited as esteemed guests and are encouraged to dress your finest for the occasion!

Given that this isn't for another week, however, it is highly encouraged that you shop around to find an outfit you'll look snazzy in for the ball. You can also start preparing merchandise to sell; or maybe, perhaps, you'd like to save that street performance for the Flea Market? Either way, you've got a long week ahead of you…

…but it won't be all rainbows and sunshine.

KEEP DREAMING.

Late into the night on Saturday, you will dream. What that dream consists of varies with each individual, but you will have one, even if you've never dreamed before. This dream could be a core memory, or perhaps about something you've always wanted, your worst fear...the list goes on.

The next day, anyone who enters the Nekyia will find that, aside from the strange "Palaces" that have popped up, things aren't right yet again…but for an entirely different reason. No matter where you are, you enter the Nekyia to a hallway full of dressing rooms. It's a fairly long hallway, because venturing down it will eventually lead you to a door that has your name on it.

Why don't you journey there and find out what awaits?

–

After seeing "Sayaka" and finding your door, you'll find something even more strange.

That dream you had last night? Well, it's here. Your dream may manifest as a small, contained landscape from your dream; a creature that you may have dreamt of might be scurrying around; another version of you, different from a Shadow; or you could be unlucky and have one of your memories on full display for everyone to see.

This phenomenon will last for the next two weeks, and dreamscapes will shift with the different dreams characters have. It won't be a one and done ordeal, unfortunately…but there is, perhaps, a way you can stop it.

(OOC: Sayaka's top level is NOT time sensitive, nor is it a mod-run event. This can be treated like a regular top level to be tagged at your own pace!

Please see the "A Dream Unraveled" commission for some details on what's causing the dreamscapes to appear! Welcome to your dreamwalking/memory share event!)

WEATHER FORECAST

Temperature: hot and humid, but gradually getting cooler! Surprise showers may occur during these two weeks when you least expect it, so stay sharp and don't get drenched!

Characters who journery into the Nekyia when it is raining may find HP-restoring items dropped during combat with Shadows.

COMMISSIONS

REAL WORLD COMMISSIONS

BATTLE OF THE BRANDS

Two boutiques on Amaranth Avenue have been at war with each other - figuratively, at least. The sweet lolita brand Cookies for Mice and the punk brand Panthera Punks started out merely vying for advertising space, but have now been taking rather pointed pot shots at each other in their marketing. As the shops are across from each other, it’s plain to see the owners are taking it personally as they can’t seem to stop glaring at each other from across the road. Won’t somebody help mediate before it escalates any further…?

AN ALTERNATIVE CANVAS

Up-and-coming makeup artists are looking to land a job with a new makeup brand in the area, and their final test: finding a model (or two) to model their work and prove their skill. Characters will find that these artists are on the prowl for willing (or not so willing) faces - but at least you’ll be compensated for your patience as they endeavor to make you look your best?

FISHY FUN FASHION

Saffron Street has been chosen to host a highly regarded fashion show! The theme: aquatic life. They need models of all sexes and sizes to walk the runway in ethereal clothing that brings to mind deep sea creatures like bioluminescent jellyfish, or even angler fish! For those who are not brave enough to walk the walk, volunteers are needed to help maintain the large, specially made tanks the city’s aquarium has generously lent out for the occasion. The tanks are full of friendly fish and plant life to create the perfect backdrop for the show! …You know how to use diving gear, don’t you?

NEKYIA COMMISSIONS

THE LION AND THE MOUSE

She thinks she’s so great… I’ll show her! We don’t need her prissy, holier-than-thou attitude around here! We’ll see how she behaves when her shop’s reduced to shreds…

It seems the owner of Panthera Punks having beef with the owner of Cookies for Mice isn’t just a real world problem - she has her very own Shadow in the form of a level 30 Narcissus. Take him on in battle and help to loosen its grip on her in reality before things get much, much worse.

HER HEART WON'T GO ON

How could he… After all I’ve done, after all the money I’ve spent… He leaves me behind for her?! I’ll make him pay… I’ll make them both pay!!

It seems one of the local models has had a rather nasty breakup, and the ex and other woman may end up suffering a rather harrowing fate if all these feelings of anger are left to fester… Characters who follow these angry rants will find themselves face to face with a Level 32 Leanan Sidhe, a jealous lover all too willing to enact a very real harm on those who wronged her. Fight back against the Shadow and teach her the value in moving on from a lover who was never worth her time to begin with.

A DREAM UNRAVELLED

Deep in the Nekyia, whispers and wails can be heard; a fashion designer bemoans their dearth of ideas, and hotly defends their choice to steal their designs instead. After all, this was their dream, and they can’t give it up now - no matter the cost.

Characters may find the Unfaithful Dream-King in a nest of collected dreams of the populace - including some of Braphine’s own chosen. He will be a powerful opponent for sure, but it seems solving this particular Shadow problem is the only way to ensure everyone can have a good night’s rest once more.

Once he is defeated, he will drop a rare item. Who knows, maybe this will help you in your journey ahead.

(OOC: Please turn in your threads for this commission on the rewards page to receive a stat boost item, valid for one time use during any battle.)

OOC

READ ME!!!!

Welcome to your log for Weeks 7 and 8! Feel free to use this log for any developments that happen during the next two weeks. There will be no log posted next week, but a top-level for the charity event will be posted instead on next Saturday!
For plotting, please feel free to head over to this post on the OOC comm to post your plotting top levels.
For Nekyia commissions, you can assume that the Shadows will respawn until they've been beaten enough times to go back to normal.
Don't forget that the deadline for applications and character swaps is on September 28!

ic comm | inboxes | ooc comm | full nav

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[cirquedesang]

Dream A Little Dream--

[The hallway is claustrophobic. The air is stale and stifling. The doors seem to stretch on endlessly, with shadows milling about and paying you no heed. Perhaps you're trying to ignore the conditions, simply looking for a fight as one might any other day in the Nekiya. Perhaps you're after the commission rewards. Perhaps you're looking for your own dressing room door, or even that of a friend's, curiosity getting the better of you.

Whatever the case, one of the doors you come across is cracked ajar ever so slightly. The nameplate on said door looks aged, the grey-black of deeply tarnished silver, with the name Céleste Narcisse engraved into it, though most could have likely guessed as much without looking to the placard.

In stark contrast to the appearance of the placard itself, what impression the slight opening of the door gives is one of... whimsy. Joy, even. A heavy, red and yellow striped canvas curtain waves its bottom corner out the crack in the doorframe as delicately as if it were chiffon in the breeze. The draft emanating from the door even feels cool and crisp, like a mid-autumn afternoon, as though the breeze will cause a chill only for the sun's warmth to soothe it away a moment later. Even the scent of the breeze is tempting, all saccharine-sweet treats and childhood nostalgia, cotton candy and buttery popcorn, crisp apple and caramel. There's even light, joyful music drifting to your ears as well.

Do you enter?]

mind the content warnings

[cirquedesang]

[Should you swing the door open wider and press past the curtains, you'll find another hallway. The air has the same sharp crispness as the breeze that drew you in, it's still saccharine-sweet, the music is still light and joyful, though inside the hall it does ring louder. The ground under your now-bare feet is uneven, though, and cold. It's all dirt and dried grass and damp autumn leaves. The walls are the same heavy canvas, and the breeze occasionally wafts a curtain inwards, making the already narrow hallway even more warped and claustrophobic. Occasionally, you can hear the laughter of children, the chattering of a family, the anguish of loss, to draw you further in.

Eventually, there's a break in the curtains, revealing a heavy, iron gate. The lock is broken and the hinges are screeching as the gate swings back, forth, back, forth in the breeze.]

[Do you Enter?]

[Content Warnings for this path may or may not include: abuse (physical, psychological, sexual), overwork to the point of exhaustion, stalking, parasocial relationships, prostitution]

[You've left the creaking gate behind in favor of pressing onward. The air around you grows more chill as the dirt under your feet changes to cobblestone, and as the music fades away into nothing, replaced by aimless chatter of a language you may or may not know. Should you understand French, the you might hear inconsequential chatting between friends, or you might hear complaining about how unsightly all these nasty little children on the street are becoming. It's unsightly! Something should be done about them! You get the distinct feeling that the speaker doesn't mean that care should be given to these orphans.

If you don't understand the words, it matters not - what does is that the chatter around you gives an oppressive feeling, like you're being judged for simply existing, and very pointedly not looked at directly - not that there are any figures to look at you.

Or are there?

When the oppressive feeling reaches its peak, you'll be run into from behind as a lanky young man seems to crash into you, not even pausing to apologize as he brushes by you. He felt too-thin when he touched you, despite any illusion layered clothing would provide, and as he disappears into the curtains to the left, you suddenly have the sinking feeling that you're missing something. You've been stolen from!]

[Do you Chase?]

[Content warnings for this path may or may not include: homelessness, starvation, thievery, idolization of an older male authority figure, underage prostitution]

[You're ostensibly in the Nekiya. Nothing that boy could have stolen from you is important enough to risk giving chase, and the hallway seems to still stretch ever onwards. You continue. The air grows colder, oppressively so, now. Your toes begin to feel numb as the cobblestone under your feet frosts over and snow begins to pile up. Even the warm hues of the tent walls fade to shades of grey as they're replaced with brick and mortar. Every few steps, now, it seems there's an alley on your right or on your left, entrances yawning open into blackness. Each one you pass leaves you with the fleeting feeling of being looked at, though the sensation does not linger on as it has in the past from some others' memories. Eventually, down one alleyway, you can hear angry shouting, the pleading voice of a child, the shattering of glass.

As you stand in front of this particular alleyway, it almost feels as though it's darker than the others, colder. Perhaps you even take a few steps into it, upon which you'll notice that the ground beneath your feet is littered with broken glass and other bits of sharp debris... and is it your imagination, or are you growing... shorter?

There's still time to turn back and carry on, but... do you want to?]

[Do you Investigate?]

[Content warnings for this path may or may not include: abuse (physical and psychological), starvation, homelessness, thievery, threat of hypothermia, blood, feelings of worthlessness]

[Through the cold and the broken glass under your feet, you backed out of the alley. Whether you ran or not doesn't matter, but as you continue on down the hall, the scenery shifts much less gradually than before. Cobblestone and brick change to wood and carpet. Cold winter air is replaced with the warmth of the indoors. Distantly, you can hear the crackle of a fire in a hearth. You feel, if only for a moment, as if you've come home.

And then you finally reach the end of the hall.

The only thing waiting for you there is an old, well-worn, well-loved armoire and a creeping sense of dread.

You feel warm hands on your shoulders. You hear a soft, loving voice whisper quietly in your ear. 'Good morning, my love.'

It's a feminine voice.

Why is there sorrow?

'I need you to hide away, my darling, and don't come out, no matter what. Can you do that for me?']

[Can you?]

[hide.]

[̸H̷i̴d̸e̴.̸]

[̶͍̰͊̈́Ḧ̵̙̗̬Í̵̡͓̦͛D̸̠̈́͌̌Ȩ̵͔̓̏̅.̸̫͒̆͠]

[̸͕̬̑̀͒̈̓H̷͎̦̃̍̒Ì̵̙̀͒̏̉D̶̦͑͛Ẻ̷̠̻͛̍̃ͅ.̴̛̹̙̘͓̯̀͝]

[̵̘͇̫͚̮͔̩͇̦̀̉̑͆̆͗̃H̷̠͎͖͚̯̲͉̲͐̿̽̾͂̿̕͝I̸̟͊̏͆̈́͒́̽̈̓͋̃̅̚D̶̡̢̛͎͖̭̹͍͚͔̻̙̱͇̠̍͐̈̓̕͠Ề̸̡̧̢͈̜̻̥̘̝̌̏̓̑̆́̕͘͜H̵̗̪̳̰̫̞͍͍̱̝̅͜ͅỈ̸̢̨̢̠͇̯͚̞͎̮̼͍̼͠D̵̝̖̤͔̼̀̈́́̀́̉̓̂̌̎̑̚͜͠E̸̢̩͙̣̻̘̍̎̋̋͛̀͗̓̒͘ͅH̷̯̯̯̣̆Ḭ̴̢̲̥̖̗̥̻̠̙̦̤̜̬̀͆̓̓̅͑D̴̢̡̨͚̱̩̲̜̱̣͂͒͐̔͑̔͑͝͝Ḙ̷̡̘̳͈͇͜͝͝H̶̢̟̝̳̯̦̫̝̝̠̉͗̋͑̍̇̉̍̾͠͝Ȋ̶̧̗̥̞͈͎̹͍͍̯̗͈̥͒͊̓̅͝͠D̸̬̞̠̦͖̦̠͕͉̻̗̟́̽̂͝E̴͖̫̞̟̒̑͊̀̒̾̈́̔̀̔H̶͉̯͕̓͊̃̎̉̂̒͐Į̴̖͛ͅḐ̷̢̡͙̺̳̠̰̟͓͉̃͜ͅE̷̡̨̝̦̘̫̯̽̏̉́̆͛͜͝͠]

[Content warnings for this path will include: politically motivated murder and gore.]

[ooc: Only the last prompt is "on rails" as it were, so if you want me to avoid any of the content warnings on any of the other prompts, or want some guidance on where you should go, hit me up!]

Wildcard: If you'd rather do some commissions (both real-world and nekiya) or some general shenanigans, feel free to just go ahead and hit me with a wildcard! I'm down for all of them!

investigate

[idealies]

[ Ai feels uneasy as the soles of her sneakers step over broken glass. She may not have the sharpest sense for danger, but after the run-in with the pickpocket even she can tell this is no place to be. She winces at the sound of angry shouting and shattered glass, feeling the hair rise on her skin, instinct screaming at her to turn back, but it's the voice of the pleading child that makes her press onwards. One small idol growing even smaller as she searches for the source of the sound. ]

[cirquedesang]

[Should Ai pause for even a moment to notice her own reflection in a pane of glass, a broken mirror, even a smooth patch of ice crusted on the ground, she'll discover that the shrinking wasn't for show. Here, her appearance appearance will have been reduced to that of herself, but at the age of six or seven. She doesn't have to continue far down the alley before she comes across a boy - he strongly resembles the pickpocket from earlier, but he's smaller, too, no older than twelve, with less white in his hair.

He's pushing himself up to his feet from where he's just been thrown into a pile of debris and trash, directly opposite from a door that looks to be the back entrance of some sort of establishment. A restaurant, perhaps, or a shop. Whatever the case, he looks frustrated, and already has a bruise forming high on his cheekbone.

At first he doesn't seem to notice her, more preoccupied with checking his clothing for any new rips from this most recent altercation, but as her foot crunches something, his gaze snaps to her in an instant, at first spooked by the intrusion and then... concerned.]

You. Are you alone?

[idealies]

[ Ai stares down at her hands in the dim light, the shrinking of her body making her feel even more vulnerable. What's happening? She should run. The thought of an adult snapping strikes more fear into her than any shadow. But that child and the terror he must be feeling...first she'll find him, she thinks with determination.

She doesn't proceed discreetly, glass crunching under her feet as she hurries along. A little further, and she finds herself staring wide-eyed at a street urchin picking himself out of the trash. ]

Mm-hmm. Are you okay? How horrible of them to hurt you.

[ Although she means to use her concerned Mom voice™, her voice comes out high-pitched and squeaky like a kid's. ]

[cirquedesang]

[The concern from what looks like just another kid prompts him to blink at her, head tilting ever so slightly as he tries to place why she'd be concerned about him. He got caught, and got beaten up like he deserved. All in all, this time wasn't even that bad.

And she's alone, too.]

I'll be fine. No one's hurt you, have they?

[She doesn't look hurt, but, well. That doesn't mean much.]

Come on, I know somewhere warmer than here.

[Warmer. But given they're out in the winter cold, almost anywhere could be better. So he offers her his hand.]

[idealies]

I'm okay! Though we should probably get away, it's not safe here.

[ Said like he isn't more familiar with the streets than her... Ai gives him a reassuring smile, taking his hand. She's gone spelunking in Nekiya before. She has her Persona to help fend off shadows. Somewhere she'd taken a wrong turn and ended up in a strange place. Until she can get her bearings again, going along with him doesn't sound like a bad idea. ]

Are you all by yourself? What's your name?

[cirquedesang]

You're right.

[She is - in ways that he knows, and ways that he doesn't, given where he thinks they are and where they actually are. So when she takes his hand, he immediately starts leading her further down the alley, taking a series of twists and turns down back streets and through passageways that seem hidden, unless you already know they're there.]

I am... And I'm not. Same as you and most of the rest of us. You'll find out soon enough.

[It seems he took her saying she was alone in an unexpected way!]

Oh, right! My name is Celeste. And yours? So I can introduce you.

do you enter

[fullmoonmutt]

[ All of the words are nonsense to him. Eli sure doesn't know French, and whatever translation happens, thanks to Braphine, sure doesn't cross into the realm of dreams. He knows this door is Celeste's, though. He supposes the French makes sense.

That isn't what gets on his nerves, though. It's that oppressive feeling. That feeling of judgment. He wants to throw hands at the chattering figures, shake them, yell at them, and tell them to shut up, and then he gets bumped.

Hey, watch it! [ He's already irate, so he can't help but snap at the young man who brushes past. Only then that oppressive feeling is replaced with... ] ...what the fuck?

[ Did that guy take something?! ]

Oi! Get back here!

[ Eli whirls about, giving chase. ]

[cirquedesang]

[Ah. Shit. He's been caught.

Unfortunately for Eli, that doesn't mean he stops - quite the opposite, in fact. He starts to sprint through the 'crowd', which only makes the oppressive feeling worse as now there's even more reason for them to be stared at for causing such a scene.

Well, at least until he ducks into an alleyway and is partway up a drainpipe before Eli gets a chance to turn the corner.]

[fullmoonmutt]

[ No, no, he expected him to run. Too bad for the guy, Eli likes to chase. He's off after him as quick as can be, not even trying to avoid the people in his way. They get shoved aside, bowled over if they won't move, by the similarly young man.

Into the alleyway and following him right up the drainpipe with barely a pause. It would seem going vertical offers Eli no difficulty at all. ]

[cirquedesang]

[He gets to the roof and glances back and? This guy? Is still practically right on his heels? What the hell?

It's not like he can just stop now, though, right? So he's taking off across the roof this time, with... significantly less confidence, honestly. If the climb didn't stop this guy, then he doubts the uneven nature or occasionally wobbly roof tiles will.]

Why are you being so persistent??

[Maybe not the best idea to shout back at the guy chasing him, but. Honestly. Why?

...And maybe he'll be distracted enough by answering to miss the hop over to the next rooftop. That would be nice.]

[fullmoonmutt]

'cause I don't like being stolen from, you knobhead!

[ Isn't it obvious?! Gosh. Whatever he had hoped, answering hardly distracts him from where his feet land when he hauls himself to the rooftop and follows after onto the next with ease. ]

[cirquedesang]

Tch-

[Okay, yes, that's obvious, but people didn't usually chase him to the rooftops?? Or even into the alleys in the first place. That tended to be a bit dangerous all on its own...

So what else can he do but run? Across rooftops, around a chimney, down, one side, up another, even across a pipe when a gap is just barely too wide for him to make the jump off of the uneven surface.

Well. At least until the Nekiya has had quite enough of him running from his problems, and his foot lands on a loose tile, sending him skidding down to crash onto someone's balcony.]

Ah, fuck, ow-...

investigate

[vogelfrei]

[ McGillis doesn't pay any mind to the sensation of shrinking. None of this is real - they're in the Nekiya, or some new facsimile thereof, and all that matters to this place is emotion.

It's emotion that makes him rush towards the voice even as he consistently de-ages - he'd been prepared to find something like this since he saw Celeste's name on the door, but that just makes him want to rush in even more.

If there is anything he can do for someone who is so like himself, it's wake him up. ]

[cirquedesang]

[In Izou's palace, he'd mentioned that the dumpster - full of trash bags and refuse as it was - wasn't the worst he'd been dumped into, and compared to the place McGillis finds him (or the boy he can reasonably assume is who would grow up into him, despite how different as they look, brunette and too-skinny as this one is), it would seem that wasn't hyperbole. There's no food waste or fabric, no paper products. It's even been picked clean of scrap metals. Instead, there's the sharp, jutting angles of stone and winter-wet wood, littered with useless shards of glass, too indicative of a city still recovering from occupation. To make matters worse, just as he comes into view, there's one last bottle thrown at him, accompanied by a curse and a slamming of a door, shattering on impact and drenching him in its contents, leaving him to shiver in the winter cold and pick shards from bleeding skin.

Despite that, he's quick to turn his attention to footsteps, body tense like he's ready to bolt any second...

Though the appearance of what he perceives as a child is enough to settle his nerves for the moment.]

cw: implied underage prostitution

...Sorry you had to hear that. Lady's husband came home and didn't like seeing somethin' like me there, yanno? Wish he'd got his hands on her lover instead, but that bastard would've probably given him a fight.

[And so explains why he's barely dressed for the cold, like he had moments to pull on what he could grab before being thrown out - threadbare pants and thin shirt. No overlayers. Not even shoes.

Though perhaps not quite as concerning as how he refers to himself as 'something', rather than someone, when there were three other 'someones' in the situation.]

...Ah, it took so long to steal those shoes, too.

[Adrenaline is clearly already draining from him, replaced with cold and exhaustion, but still he looks around, finds a piece of wood he can shove over to make a reasonably decent perch for this new kid. He even pats it before going right back to picking glass from his arm.]

What about you, though? Y'have somewhere to go?

[vogelkaefig]

[ McGillis looks down at himself and it's not much of a surprise to find that his body has become small and spindly, dressed in rags. It's irritating to be small in this situation, quite literally powerless and also very cold, but at least this means Celeste won't perceive him as a threat.

McGillis takes the invitation and comes to sit next to the other boy, different entirely from how his adult self would one day look. They really have too much in common for comfort. ]

CW more talk of underage prostitution

Don't really wanna go back there right now.

[ It's easy enough to put himself in the shoes of his child self - or a child vaguely like himself. The brothel he actually was forced to work at would not have tolerated him running away for a night, but it's simple enough to fudge the details. ]

I've had enough of clients. I only ever get men, too.

[ Sincerely 'gets bought by both sexes' might be the most shocking thing to McGillis about this whole miserable ordeal.

He gives a glance at Celeste's glass injuries. ]

Need help with that?

just hits this whole thread with a subject line cw of flippant allusions to csa

[cirquedesang]

[Perhaps that's why the Nekiya decided to diminish anyone taking the path McGillis did. This Celeste, cold and injured though he is, is flighty, but not heartless, and for others to appear as the sort of person he'd protect, even now, rather than run from...

It's surely not worth unpacking.

McGillis responds, and there's only a brief, pitying once-over. 'Back there' implies a place to go back to, sure. Warmth, maybe, a roof over his head... but 'clients'... A different, adjacent hell. It's met with dark humor, instead of pity.]

Wait 'til you get older.

[He'd thought women joining the rotation would make things easier. It did, sometimes, but ultimately it just made things less predictable.]

...You're out now, though. Don't have to go back, if you don't want.

[The offer to help, too, goes unremarked on, but... he does shift to offer his arm over. He's not stupid, he knows smaller fingers and a mind unclouded by pain would make faster work of picking out all those pesky shards of glass.]

[vogelkaefig]

[ McGillis, his fingers once again tiny and thin, wastes no time getting to work on Celeste's injuries. He's not precisely gentle about it, but he is efficient.

It's a strange feeling, to be in his childhood body but fully aware of his adult memories. In his own room, he'd regressed himself, but now... ]

I know. But I don't feel like starving either.

[ It's the most stable food income he's had in his life. ]

Are you actually getting by like this?

enter

[prozaic]

[Not his flower...! Okay, sure, it's a fake white rose made of fabric, and he has many more where those came from (in his room, bundled up in a bouquet), but damn it, it's the principle of the thing, and he chases after the boy.]

Oh, bother...

[Despite his innate athleticism, Shalem is quickly losing the boy, and he really has to do something right now, or his bouquet will be one rose missing forever, and one rose less to give to someone, anyone, he would prefer it go to.

As a last-ditch effort to get the boy to stop, Shalem digs up his native language from deep within him and yells at him to Come back here, please! He doesn't even know if it'll work, but his attention had been caught by the smatterings of Gaulish earlier, which led to the theft-- so he's gambling on the fact that the boy would understand as well.

Thank the stars his accent is still decent, despite years of not using Gaulish.]

[cirquedesang]

[Normally, being asked to stop, to come back, would get a shouted taunt at best. Who would be so stupid to listen to that? Who would be so stupid to ask?

But.

This time, the item stolen appears to be worthless - at least to him. It's just a fake fabric rose. It won't sell for anything, he can't trade it for anything of worth, he certainly can't eat it...

But this guy wanted it back badly enough to give chase, to switch languages to call after him, to ask him to come back... to even use 'please'. Maybe it did have some value, after all.

So the boy slows enough to duck into a side alley, out of the way, so they might have a chance to talk.]

This is important to you?

[prozaic]

[Oh thank goodness, the boy stopped. Eventually. Shalem is not out of breath, but when you're in an unfamiliar place, chasing someone who is actually a local, does that really matter?

He tucks himself discreetly into the alleyway after the boy, beginning to calm down already.]

Oui. [Still using Gaulish French... He's still a bit surprised he's comfortable with it.] Such a flower is for someone else.

[Sort of...!]

[cirquedesang]

Someone else... your wife? [A once-over...] Husband?

[There's no real judgement in the assessment, though he is notably still holding the flower behind his back. No need to let it be easily snatched if the only value it holds is for this man before him.]

What will you do if I keep it?

[prozaic]

[Oh, precocious children. Shalem crouches down in front of him.]

If you keep it... You will have to spend a very long time with me, because such a thing is only reserved for those dear to my heart. A friend, a lover, [not a spouse, he has to make that distinction,] but I simply cannot consider a stranger that sort of person.

And it's quite difficult to be a friend of mine, I'm quite shy, you see.

Do you Chase?;

[beautifulknight]

[ It isn't important, but curiosity more than irritability drives him wishing to close the distance in the chase. But, even so, Argenti doesn't feel deterred by the sudden chilly sensation that comes at him in worrying amounts.

But everything becomes more concerning as he treks onwards, and the feeling of being shrunken in size is not missed at all.

...He doesn't feel hesitation. Instead, he creeps forward. It is what has been honed into him as a Knight of Beauty. Confidence to face the ugliness of the universe and protect the light of all that is beautiful. Though he wonders if it is even possible to do it here. ]