meridio: (38)
drowsy debbie downer aka Somnus Lucis Caelum ([personal profile] meridio) wrote2019-07-07 04:02 pm

(Awash & Hugtopia) IC contact

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Somnus is slow to respond to text messages and accept calls.
iustaegis: (pic#13600592)

[personal profile] iustaegis 2019-12-07 05:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ Enchanted by the way the blade reforms out of nothing but light into solid, masterfully crafted metal, she continues to stand in awe of it...

Questions form in her mind about the sword, and he'll see them dancing within her eyes, as if they are just ready to leap off of her tongue. How is it that he's wielding it with one hand? Who made it, why was it made? To just protect--? But it's gorgeous for a weapon, decorated, almost appearing as if it should only be used in ceremonies. Why is there only one wing at the handle, and what does it symbolize? Who taught him how to wield it-- let alone wield it alongside the power he also has? His parents, perhaps? Parents that wanted him to be able to protect himself, who held him while he was young and hoped the world for him--

A world's future that he now protects with this blade, ages-removed from whoever it is that raised him; and with this same blade, he has also protected himself and others... for over millennia.

No, she cannot ask these questions. Not when he does not enjoy reminiscing. Her curiosity should not override his comfort.

She steps forward, and then around to face him. Now he holds the blade between the two of them. Slowly, her hand lifts to rest upon the broad-side of the sword, feeling the difference of its cool metal surface to the warmth of her own. Past its silver edge, gleaming in the morning light, her eyes briefly meet his before turning her attention to the weapon. Actions speak louder than words. This is true for him: for while he succinctly uses his own, he has helped this world already through touch. How does she convey her gratefulness in the same method?

She cannot thank the weapon itself, for it is inanimate and bound to his hand. The blade is a symbol of might, power, the grace with which he wields it all, an extension of him, a symbol of him, if not him, himself. Yet, she cannot say 'thank you' aloud again to him, either. That would not be enough.

Actions speak louder than words; she should try to communicate as he does.

Leaning in, she presses her lips to the blade's surface. Only after a second or two does she pull away, the corners of her mouth curling softly into a grateful smile. Her eyes, too, shine with appreciation as she looks at him. ]
iustaegis: (pic#13566205)

[personal profile] iustaegis 2019-12-08 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ Just a blink from him, just a pause, and just a nod as the greatsword dissipates into light and back into him. She believes he understands.

...But he's urging for them to continue. Ever-moving forward, this one. With a nod, her fingers shift in her grasp with his. She takes a step alongside him, then another, and soon they begin to walk hand-in-hand. She'll remain silent as they walk to their townhouse. Before they enter, however, she says one more thing. ]


He has your eyes, you know. [ Noctis does. (And his face.)

And if their eyes catch just right within the morning light, it's as if their color shines the same hue as their divine power. ]


Your legacy [ What they had talked about the first week here, at that. ] ...is realized in his goodness. [ She laughs softly, jokingly, although it is tired. ] Maybe your own goodness had passed down to him through all those generations...?

[ Time to enter the townhouse. ]
iustaegis: (pic#13566193)

[personal profile] iustaegis 2019-12-08 03:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ He should look in a mirror to see his own charity, then. But she is too tired to continue her playful tone to say such a thing.

Instead at the threshold of her doorway, her hand releases his to settle upon his chest. Once again, her palm rests over his heart. ]
Then, two unique goodnesses... that developed separately through time. [ Independent from their genes, their similar faces, the color of their eyes, their divine magic. Doesn't that make it even more incredible that such goodness exists, so far apart in ages?

She wish she could explain the phenomenon that that is to him, but it seems that exhaustion prevents her from doing more. How he had noticed that tiredness before, she doesn't know, but she's oddly grateful for it nonetheless. She's vulnerable, yes, but... also safe with him. ]


Maybe one day... we, together with you, will see the sunrise.

[ With these as her parting words, she breaks from him at last. The door closes shut a few seconds later. ]