hypomeneo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hypomeneo) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thenearshore2019-06-01 05:16 pm
hypomeneo) wrote in thenearshore2019-06-01 05:16 pm
(no subject)
Who: Waver and You! (with a closed prompt for Iskandar)
When: May 25
Where: The Western District, at and around Iskandar's Temple
What: Murder chickens, the end result of three months of spell crafting, and apotheosis. Only two of these three things are related
Warnings: Mentions of ritual animal sacrifice, discussions and descriptions of death, more warnings in comments
Rooster Rumble
[On this late spring morning, a murderous war cry (aka a rooster's crow) rings out over the Far Shore, followed by swears coloring the air blue. Clearly nothing to worry about – you're just passing through minding your own business and the war between man and chicken isn't your war! Or you have business at Iskandar's Temple for one reason or another… and if you do, you probably know to beware the birds (and sheep) by now – and uuhh… it totally isn't your problem… sorry, Waver, you're on your own! Right?!
Then it completely is your problem as the fluffiest rooster alive bursts from the bushes right for you, wickedly long and sharp talons out and screaming for fire and blood. Starting with your blood. Followed by Waver, bleeding and tiredly snarling for its blood.]
DON'T LET THAT BLOODY BIRD TAKE A RUNNER!
[Flee, fight and catch the murder bird, or fall to its claws. What will you do?]
A Well Deserved Rest
[If you come by later in the day… there's less chance of rooster attacks. Suspiciously zero chance. And every chance of finding Waver near dozing on the Temple stairs, a bottle of wine by his side, one leather bound book at his feet along with a knife, and a look of smug, smug satisfaction on his face.
That's probably due to the faintly glowing sigils and geometric designs slowly absorbing into the rock and trees of the grounds until there’s not a trace of them at all. Something similar is happening within the Temple itself; elaborate magic circles and grids girdled with arcane scripts and formulas centered around the sacred fire being drunk up by the building itself like wine. The scent of incense blows out the door.]
Three whole months to put the damn mess together. [Sleepy.] Worth it…
[What did he set up? Ask him. Or stop him from taking a tumble down the stairs, because he's starting to completely conk out in three… two… one…]
But We All Must Wake Back To Our Lives – closed to Iskandar
[The disappearance happens in the middle of the night, when both Iskandar and Waver have slipped unconscious. Through it all, Waver dreams...
...
...
...
In the end, things come full circle.
It is now Waver's turn to meet his death on a bridge as Chaldea falls, as the Master and Mashu make their desperate flight toward the underground hanger, and delay Kotomine Kirei from catching up before they can make their escape. There's more than one hangar in Chaldea, however. This one is in the East Wing, and here Waver intercepts the priest, now a Pseudo-Servant just like him, above the vehicles parked on the floor. The unknown girl, also a Servant, is not here, though her ice is everywhere. That sadistic excuse for a woman is also absent. The only ones joining them are the corpses of mercenaries belonging that arrogant idiot Gordolf Musik. They're sprawled everywhere, riddled with bullets.
Che. Some fool had even brought a sword; it lies on Kirei's side of their battleground. Not that there's more than scant moments for noticing such things...
They all were right in their suspicions. The Incineration of Humanity by Goetia was just a prelude, a reaction to this, an invasion to erase the world and Pan-Human History outside piece by piece...
Waver had always known that surviving this Grand Order would be extremely slim, even if his status as a Pseudo-Servant promised him the hope of resurrection. Accepted it. But it's somewhat bitterly poetic that it's this end, on a bridge, against the former Master of Gilgamesh. His lips twist as he watches Kirei kiss his cross and he knows his strategy. Get him talking, drag this out...
"Father Kotomine Kirei... what an unexpected pleasure." Waver's voice drips venon and sarcasm in equal measure, "Death's never been able to keep you from salivating at the possibility of apocalypse. You must be savoring this meal."
Dead since the Fourth War, but always, always coming back. Waver tracks the flight of the Master, Mashu, Da Vinci, and Musik to Holmes and the rest of Chaldea's staff in his mind. There are other enemy Servants about, but this one can not be allowed to interfere. The priest is far more dangerous than anyone suspects.
"There is joy in doing the good work, Caster. Or should I say Lord El-Melloi II," Kirei's eyes narrow thoughtfully, trying to place him, "To encounter one of twelve Lords of Mage Association here... indeed, I savor it." There's something twisted in the look, "Rejoice. When all has passed, all your kind have wished for will be be restored."
"The Age of Gods? Mystery?" Waver can't help but laugh, "Is that what's being told to those poor addled children? Wipe the memory of Pan-Human History and its people from the World and you can build on its bloody bones a better tomorrow. A second chance. Please."
It feels like eternity stretches between them as humanity disappears outside in every place, in every time. Each word, each movement, each breath of theirs bears down heavier and heavier upon the remaining fabric of history and scars it as individuals dwindle and Waver feels that weight settle on his shoulders.
"It has always been the duty of adults to educate the children in their care. You know that well. Sometimes reality is harsh, and though trampling such a dream will bring some measure of pain to my heart, it must be done."
Now it comes to it; Kirei's drawing black keys, Waver his fan. They will be fighting in moments.
"You think a dream eventually fades when the dreamer wakes to that? I heard such a notion once long ago, from another I'm sure you'd get along with. Some dreams are so flimsy, yes. But some... Reality is harsh, Kotomine. That we can agree.
One day you'll awake to discover some dreams refuse to die. Including humanity's."
It clicks on Kirei's face.
"... the former Master of the King of Conquerors, Waver Velvet. I thought you dead. Here you are Lord of the El-Melloi instead." The priest smiles cruelly. "Facing me. If I had realized this was to be such a momentous occasion, I would have brought and offered you wine before we start."
Waver scoffs. "Pass. I wouldn't share a cup with you even if you brought his treasured reserves," as mana surges within for this final battle, "Let's get this over with."
It begins and there's only one hope of victory. To hold the line as long as he can, to allow the others to make it, to escape... for that dream of humanity and history to continue on. Noble Phantasms clash, spells and pure mana rock the hanger, and debris falls from the ceiling. More blood begins to paint the hangar red.
It's a bridge and he's a Caster, and he has no close combat skills. Just his wits and creativity. He lasts longer than he should, but he takes hit after hit by black keys, scored open and bleeding, one blade impaling him through the shoulder, another through the side. It alone is enough to guarantee his death, and he staggers, catching the railing, refusing to fall and rallying himself to continue the fight.
Then Kirei's in front of him, the discarded sword he noticed earlier in hand.
Blood erupts from his mouth as Kirei runs the blade through his heart, piercing the two fused spirit cores sustaining him. It feels... cold. Like fire eating him up, but... cold.
His body begins to break apart into mana, particles rising in the air. While it's possible for him to leave a corpse in some circumstances, it's equally possible for this to happen. It's a filmy realization as Waver feels Zhuge Liang's core within him fragment, the sense of him disappearing, while all the rest lingers behind still fused to dissolve with him.
There's a thunder in his ears. It sounds like waves crashing on a distant shore. Eternity presses down, the World takes hold, and he feels... cut from the tethers of some cruel cycle. Engraved and beckoned home, to some far distant shore.
He can only hope it's enough, as everything goes numb and the pain vanishes to the background. Can only hope it's enough... that this sacrifice buys the Master's escape and their eventual victory. Kirei fades away, speaking though Waver does not hear, and before it all goes dark, he sees that vision of that misty shore, and one man in particular by the waves...
"...Rider..."]
RIDER!
[Waver shoots upward, disoriented, clutching his chest. He's in a strange bed, peering through the darkness at a strange room, and he can't sense the familiar wash of energy of Ri--Iskandar. The room is filled with whispers, or maybe that's just in his head, of people praying for help. Beneath his fingers, his formerly dead heart pounds.
It is that realization, along with the crash of an entire life through his skull, and one other - the one he's been holding back for three months, that sends him spinning into hyperventilation. How long as he been gone? How long has he been gone? Christ, is Rid... Iskandar, here? DID HE LEAVE HIS KING ALONE?
... panic seizes him, and he ignores the fact that apparently now he's a god, and apparently Iskandar's had access to his memories, and apparently he's not going to fall and turn into a malignant multi-eyed monstrosity or have to kill himself to avoid said fang and claw fate or anything where his inevitable death's in the cards. No. The only thought that consumes him is what the hell happened when Rider, no, Iskandar... his king and lover... found out he was gone?! Did... he...
Terror sends him tumbling out of the bed, and terror causes involuntary teleportation in his need to get Iskandar's side, and he crashes to the familiar stone floor in front of the sacred fire of Iskandar's Temple. He groans, stunned and feeling like his entire body has been dragged through thorn bushes as he looks up.]
... Rider...
[Not Iskandar's room, but.
Oh. Is he going to have Temple problems?]
Please. For Christ's sake. Not today. For his sake. Not bloody today.
[And with that he pushes himself up and heads for Iskandar's room.]
When: May 25
Where: The Western District, at and around Iskandar's Temple
What: Murder chickens, the end result of three months of spell crafting, and apotheosis. Only two of these three things are related
Warnings: Mentions of ritual animal sacrifice, discussions and descriptions of death, more warnings in comments
Rooster Rumble
[On this late spring morning, a murderous war cry (aka a rooster's crow) rings out over the Far Shore, followed by swears coloring the air blue. Clearly nothing to worry about – you're just passing through minding your own business and the war between man and chicken isn't your war! Or you have business at Iskandar's Temple for one reason or another… and if you do, you probably know to beware the birds (and sheep) by now – and uuhh… it totally isn't your problem… sorry, Waver, you're on your own! Right?!
Then it completely is your problem as the fluffiest rooster alive bursts from the bushes right for you, wickedly long and sharp talons out and screaming for fire and blood. Starting with your blood. Followed by Waver, bleeding and tiredly snarling for its blood.]
DON'T LET THAT BLOODY BIRD TAKE A RUNNER!
[Flee, fight and catch the murder bird, or fall to its claws. What will you do?]
A Well Deserved Rest
[If you come by later in the day… there's less chance of rooster attacks. Suspiciously zero chance. And every chance of finding Waver near dozing on the Temple stairs, a bottle of wine by his side, one leather bound book at his feet along with a knife, and a look of smug, smug satisfaction on his face.
That's probably due to the faintly glowing sigils and geometric designs slowly absorbing into the rock and trees of the grounds until there’s not a trace of them at all. Something similar is happening within the Temple itself; elaborate magic circles and grids girdled with arcane scripts and formulas centered around the sacred fire being drunk up by the building itself like wine. The scent of incense blows out the door.]
Three whole months to put the damn mess together. [Sleepy.] Worth it…
[What did he set up? Ask him. Or stop him from taking a tumble down the stairs, because he's starting to completely conk out in three… two… one…]
But We All Must Wake Back To Our Lives – closed to Iskandar
[The disappearance happens in the middle of the night, when both Iskandar and Waver have slipped unconscious. Through it all, Waver dreams...
...
...
...
In the end, things come full circle.
It is now Waver's turn to meet his death on a bridge as Chaldea falls, as the Master and Mashu make their desperate flight toward the underground hanger, and delay Kotomine Kirei from catching up before they can make their escape. There's more than one hangar in Chaldea, however. This one is in the East Wing, and here Waver intercepts the priest, now a Pseudo-Servant just like him, above the vehicles parked on the floor. The unknown girl, also a Servant, is not here, though her ice is everywhere. That sadistic excuse for a woman is also absent. The only ones joining them are the corpses of mercenaries belonging that arrogant idiot Gordolf Musik. They're sprawled everywhere, riddled with bullets.
Che. Some fool had even brought a sword; it lies on Kirei's side of their battleground. Not that there's more than scant moments for noticing such things...
They all were right in their suspicions. The Incineration of Humanity by Goetia was just a prelude, a reaction to this, an invasion to erase the world and Pan-Human History outside piece by piece...
Waver had always known that surviving this Grand Order would be extremely slim, even if his status as a Pseudo-Servant promised him the hope of resurrection. Accepted it. But it's somewhat bitterly poetic that it's this end, on a bridge, against the former Master of Gilgamesh. His lips twist as he watches Kirei kiss his cross and he knows his strategy. Get him talking, drag this out...
"Father Kotomine Kirei... what an unexpected pleasure." Waver's voice drips venon and sarcasm in equal measure, "Death's never been able to keep you from salivating at the possibility of apocalypse. You must be savoring this meal."
Dead since the Fourth War, but always, always coming back. Waver tracks the flight of the Master, Mashu, Da Vinci, and Musik to Holmes and the rest of Chaldea's staff in his mind. There are other enemy Servants about, but this one can not be allowed to interfere. The priest is far more dangerous than anyone suspects.
"There is joy in doing the good work, Caster. Or should I say Lord El-Melloi II," Kirei's eyes narrow thoughtfully, trying to place him, "To encounter one of twelve Lords of Mage Association here... indeed, I savor it." There's something twisted in the look, "Rejoice. When all has passed, all your kind have wished for will be be restored."
"The Age of Gods? Mystery?" Waver can't help but laugh, "Is that what's being told to those poor addled children? Wipe the memory of Pan-Human History and its people from the World and you can build on its bloody bones a better tomorrow. A second chance. Please."
It feels like eternity stretches between them as humanity disappears outside in every place, in every time. Each word, each movement, each breath of theirs bears down heavier and heavier upon the remaining fabric of history and scars it as individuals dwindle and Waver feels that weight settle on his shoulders.
"It has always been the duty of adults to educate the children in their care. You know that well. Sometimes reality is harsh, and though trampling such a dream will bring some measure of pain to my heart, it must be done."
Now it comes to it; Kirei's drawing black keys, Waver his fan. They will be fighting in moments.
"You think a dream eventually fades when the dreamer wakes to that? I heard such a notion once long ago, from another I'm sure you'd get along with. Some dreams are so flimsy, yes. But some... Reality is harsh, Kotomine. That we can agree.
One day you'll awake to discover some dreams refuse to die. Including humanity's."
It clicks on Kirei's face.
"... the former Master of the King of Conquerors, Waver Velvet. I thought you dead. Here you are Lord of the El-Melloi instead." The priest smiles cruelly. "Facing me. If I had realized this was to be such a momentous occasion, I would have brought and offered you wine before we start."
Waver scoffs. "Pass. I wouldn't share a cup with you even if you brought his treasured reserves," as mana surges within for this final battle, "Let's get this over with."
It begins and there's only one hope of victory. To hold the line as long as he can, to allow the others to make it, to escape... for that dream of humanity and history to continue on. Noble Phantasms clash, spells and pure mana rock the hanger, and debris falls from the ceiling. More blood begins to paint the hangar red.
It's a bridge and he's a Caster, and he has no close combat skills. Just his wits and creativity. He lasts longer than he should, but he takes hit after hit by black keys, scored open and bleeding, one blade impaling him through the shoulder, another through the side. It alone is enough to guarantee his death, and he staggers, catching the railing, refusing to fall and rallying himself to continue the fight.
Then Kirei's in front of him, the discarded sword he noticed earlier in hand.
Blood erupts from his mouth as Kirei runs the blade through his heart, piercing the two fused spirit cores sustaining him. It feels... cold. Like fire eating him up, but... cold.
His body begins to break apart into mana, particles rising in the air. While it's possible for him to leave a corpse in some circumstances, it's equally possible for this to happen. It's a filmy realization as Waver feels Zhuge Liang's core within him fragment, the sense of him disappearing, while all the rest lingers behind still fused to dissolve with him.
There's a thunder in his ears. It sounds like waves crashing on a distant shore. Eternity presses down, the World takes hold, and he feels... cut from the tethers of some cruel cycle. Engraved and beckoned home, to some far distant shore.
He can only hope it's enough, as everything goes numb and the pain vanishes to the background. Can only hope it's enough... that this sacrifice buys the Master's escape and their eventual victory. Kirei fades away, speaking though Waver does not hear, and before it all goes dark, he sees that vision of that misty shore, and one man in particular by the waves...
"...Rider..."]
RIDER!
[Waver shoots upward, disoriented, clutching his chest. He's in a strange bed, peering through the darkness at a strange room, and he can't sense the familiar wash of energy of Ri--Iskandar. The room is filled with whispers, or maybe that's just in his head, of people praying for help. Beneath his fingers, his formerly dead heart pounds.
It is that realization, along with the crash of an entire life through his skull, and one other - the one he's been holding back for three months, that sends him spinning into hyperventilation. How long as he been gone? How long has he been gone? Christ, is Rid... Iskandar, here? DID HE LEAVE HIS KING ALONE?
... panic seizes him, and he ignores the fact that apparently now he's a god, and apparently Iskandar's had access to his memories, and apparently he's not going to fall and turn into a malignant multi-eyed monstrosity or have to kill himself to avoid said fang and claw fate or anything where his inevitable death's in the cards. No. The only thought that consumes him is what the hell happened when Rider, no, Iskandar... his king and lover... found out he was gone?! Did... he...
Terror sends him tumbling out of the bed, and terror causes involuntary teleportation in his need to get Iskandar's side, and he crashes to the familiar stone floor in front of the sacred fire of Iskandar's Temple. He groans, stunned and feeling like his entire body has been dragged through thorn bushes as he looks up.]
... Rider...
[Not Iskandar's room, but.
Oh. Is he going to have Temple problems?]
Please. For Christ's sake. Not today. For his sake. Not bloody today.
[And with that he pushes himself up and heads for Iskandar's room.]
Rooster Rumble
At least he's a target with amazingly fast reflexes. Even with his attention mostly towards the yelling, a shell of energy has the deadly rooster bouncing off before a single talon or feather got near the the younger man. Then, without much of an extra gesture or anything, the creature finds itself pressed into the ground with nothing but gravity weighing it into the roads. ]
You want it to still be able to run, or...?
[ Don't worry about how Judar looks right now or anything. Just focus on the grounded cock. ]
no subject
[Ominous? Well for the chicken, it is, no matter how much fire Waver's breathing. He has plans for it that exceed ending up with a nice bird on a spit.
When was the last time he saw this guy? Compound? 'bout right. There's the tiniest nag otherwise, but it's gone as he stares down at the pinned rooster with blood running in thin rivulets down his arm.]
no subject
[ But hey, he can leave it alive. Judar can also encase its legs in a solid block of ice, but that lets it keep breathing.
The compound was definitely the last time they'd seen each other, and many things happened that Judar's kept pretty private. Including the loss of his god, Caster, quite some time ago. So he's mostly been living with everything hidden away on a carpet, getting what he could by wandering about.
If he didn't use magic to supplement so much, he'd look even more like a mess. The clothes could've seen
a washbetter days, at least that much is for sure. ]Planning on revenge for the arm?
no subject
[You might notice that the perimeter has strange symbols everywhere on rocks and trees linked by geometric designs and random lines that when one steps back and looks at the larger picture are just part of a larger pattern outlined in a strange brownish substance.
Someone's up to some serious magic. All this would have taken a while to set up.
But why comment on Judar being a mess when it looks like Waver's holding himself together barely better. He's clean aside from any filth from chicken catching, but t-shirt and jeans are not the usual Waver fare. And his hair is falling out of the loose bun it's been pinned into. Utterly sloppy for a man who takes such usual care with his appearance.]
I'll get revenge a plenty, then.
no subject
[ He can tell that there's something going on that's spell-wise. Also, despite where he is, Judar tends to fly everywhere. He might have seen the pattern, even if it doesn't mean as much to him. His patterns and lines are very different in nature.
Ah... But he can't resist his curiosity with major kinds of magic. ]
So, what's the ritual for?
no subject
[Casually. There is so much power in blood. It's been the focus of human belief since times primordial, associated with life, associated with death, associated with so many things. There are few stronger things conceptually.
Spill it and it's still a living substance until the cells die.
Waver's counting on that unique potency to both help power the working and sustain the spell independently of him.]
A modified energy collection array. Been setting it up for months.
[Aka, he's making the sacred fire a mana tank. Which will be the base of other workings, likely, but gotta put in the foundations first.
The rooster screams in outrage when Waver kneels to pick it up, and squirms, trying to peck him with its beak. Not that it's having any luck, but if howling its rage is the only way to express its desire to kill everyone in sight, then by the Gods it will blast its lungs in hopes of murdering some eardrums at least.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
But then it stops and all is silent. Something. Or someone is missing. Can a building panic? This one sure can.
It has seen one strange disappearance quite recently and what followed did everything to make it take careful stock of all its inhabitants. All the time.
So when it can't locate another one of them it goes fully of the rails. Rooms pop in and out of existences, various objects disappear and appear in different places, walls shake and floors wobble as the Temple is scanning all of its own perimeter and then the surrounding lands as far as it can reach searching... and failing to find that one, missing person. All this time something deep inside wails like an injured animal. It was bad enough when they lost a person last time... What would happen now? Would it lose its god too? Is it destined to crumble into dust? Unneeded and forgotten?
But Iskandar sleeps soundly. First time for a long time without the second-hand nightmares or at least the echo of them. He's completely oblivious to the laments, the shaking and the rumbling of the stone walls. Nothing short of falling out of the bed could probably wake him and he's snoring like never before.
So when Waver drops on the stone floor right in front of the sacred fire everything is out of place. Space itself is in flux as if there was some mysterious earthquake rippling through reality itself.
Then it all stops.
The Temple found him.
It's slow to realise the change but when it finally does it almost bursts with enthusiasm.
Waver may need to wade through a veritable sea of flowers on his path to Iskandar's room. There's music coming apparently from nowhere and sweet scents fill the air.
Stone Menace is giving Waver a royal welcome in celebration of his long deserved ascension.]
2/2
Mὰ τὸν Δία! What's wrong with this building? Why the ruckuss at such ungodly hour?
[One look at Waver wakes him up instantly.]
Waver? Did something happen?
[Then it dawns on him. He can see him alright but he can no longer feel him. The bond that connected them for last months? It's gone. Iskandar sucks air through his teeth. No. Not him. All blood drains from his face as he's not willing to even think about the possibility. Of what that could mean... Don't take him. Anyone. But not him
Could that stupid music stop already?!]
Please, tell me you're really here.
1/?
wut? Okay, that's enough to break him out of his Iskandar related panic for one minute.]
I'm going to have to offer you more sacrifices in the future, aren't I?
[THIS IS UNEXPECTED? BUT NICE?
... Temple, they obviously need to get you drunk more often.]
no subject
Waver wades through the flowers as fast as they can, and if some get caught in his hair... he's not fussing about that now. Or that he may be decidedly under dressed. Or every other thing he might panic or fuss over.
Things to panic or fuss over have to take a queue. He's only (a deified) human! One freakout at a time.]
no subject
...
... oh...]
no subject
Thank God.]
Done
[And then... Waver bursts into tears, feeling every damn emotion at once, and tackles Iskandar to the bed in a hug. Which may break the bed with the force of his enthusiasm. Look... the both of them have been through a lot and furniture be damned with this reunion.]
I'm here! It's okay! It's okay!
[He's sorry for the fright, and he's sobbing and trying to pet Iskandar's hair... and listen, he's an overwhelmed emotional mess.
Give him a moment.]
no subject
Iskandar never thought that hearing the class designation he almost never uses would bring him such joy.
He remembers...
and he didn't die...
didn't turn into hell beastie...
That can only mean one thing.
Iskandar intercepts the tackle and already he's laughing as the wood cracks ominously. Furniture, be damned. None of that matters now. They can order a new one.
Oh, joy! Finally! No more hiding. No more secrets. Now they are free. Now that he has his love in his arms nothing can mar his happiness.
Iskandar pulls Waver even closer to kiss all the tears away. To kiss him like he never kissed him before. ]
My love. My light. Waver.
no subject
He has never felt so at home as this moment right now.]
My king. [He caresses Iskandar's face, still caught up in a sea of emotion.] Iskandar. I'm finally fully home to you. I've missed you so!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
NSFW
Very NSFW
(no subject)
cw: NSFW
cw: NSFW
cw: NSFW down to icon
cw: NSFW
cw: NSFW
cw: NSFW
cw: NSFW
cw: NSFW
(no subject)
(no subject)
rooster rumble
He's fought actual opponents that can think, and besides, it's hardly a hound-huge striped cat-beast, so even though Gralats injury from being mauled by that beast is not yet completely healed, catching the blasted bird by the neck is not difficult.
The way he's glaring is more just an irritated stare, and Waver receives the exact same look. ]
Just neck it if it's such a hassle.
no subject
[The rooster's beak snaps and there's murder in its eyes for being held by the throat and from being stopped mid attack. It's completely unrepentant for going for Gralat's eyes.
Waver is hardly more conciliatory sounding as he reaches out to grab the rooster by the neck from the other man. Possibly that's because his arm in bleeding everywhere from where it's been struck by the rooster's spurs, possibly it's because he's exhausted for multiple reasons and being dragged slowly into a transforming sleep. The only grace is that most of his sour expression is directed at the bird. So far.]
no subject
It's not his problem if the man loses the bird again, so long as it doesn't try to attack him again. Though birds are hardly the worst thing that has ever attacked him, nor the most lethal. In comparison to what he is used to, a rooster is nothing but pathetic. ]
No? What business besides fertilizing eggs and becoming a meal does a rooster have?
[ Because he can hardly imagine anything else, really. In warmer, brighter climates than where he is from they may have other use, but beyond being annoying, he doesn't particularly care. ]
no subject
(he thought cats were vicious with mice. No longer.)]
Being the subject of ritual sacrifice when a major magical ritual requires blood and that blood to be shed in a specific manner.
[You asked.]
no subject
For a few moments Gralat just watches him; because magic is still a concept of religion and mythology that he doesn't quite believe in. ]
Right. I suppose it would be easier to keep it temporarily alive in that case.
[ But he'll just take it at face-value, then. He's heard and seen worse, so it doesn't bothers him. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
rest
So there is suddenly an Obi on the stairs, crouched down to put a hand on this persons shoulder just to stop him from tipping over. ]
Uh, Mister? Maybe lean backwards instead of forwards, if you're gonna nap here?
no subject
(It's empty. Yes he did drink the whole thing.)]
Huuhhh-- hello?
[Very eloquent and totally awake, we're sure. Waver blinks as he first looks at the hand on his shoulder then up, trying to recall what was said to him.]
Shit. Didn't mean to here. Thanks. Last thing I needed was to crack my head open on the steps.
[Muzzily he wonders if he's here for Iskandar. His lover is looking for a new shinki... if this guy is a shinki at all.]
no subject
Though he's pretty cute dazed. ]
That would be a shame. Though people can come back from it, one shouldn't risk it for a drink. Maybe you should get in your cups further down next time.
no subject
That said, Waver is definitely blaming the wine. Neither him or Iskandar should be allowed to drink alone anyway.]
Ugh. [Stretch. Yawn. Rubbing eyes... and there goes the wine bottle, somehow not shattering as it tumbles down the stairs. Waver stares for a moment before adding.] Right. Garden next time. Avoiding Reincarnation Roulette is never a bad plan.
[Because if he doesn't, then he foresees the worst case Iskandar scenario, and Waver has been doing everything to avoid the worst case Iskandar scenario.]
What brings you over? We've had a lot of people by [By Waver standards!] and --
... [BLINK.]
Please don't tell me you were mobbed by the bloody sheep on the road. Between them and the birds...
no subject
[ That is one sturdy bottle. Or is it cushioned by magic? Is that a thing magic can do, anyway?
The amusement is evident on Obi's face, he isn't trying one bit to conceal it. ]
I don't think I've seen any bloody sheep around lately, though I've seen plenty of birds. I take it you have to deal a fair bit with birds and sheep, Mister? And bloody ones, too. All the wool that must be cleaned all the time must be time consuming.
[ He's not serious, he's just so very amused. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)