Aefenglom IC Inbox

[omnicrafter]

"I wanted this, once. More than anything. A chance to speak and be heard..."

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Action (11/15)

[inlikethebrume]

[This was going to happen sooner or later. She does remember Irhya's words from when they first met clear as a bell but in reality, Mira can only count how many she can trust for this on one hand.

Which is why she is looking for the miqo'te anywhere in the house. A moment when she's not face first into a book? Who knew.]

Irhya? Are you here?

[omnicrafter]

[Irhya peers her head out from behind her bedroom door, her ears sticking straight out. She seems a little groggy, like she just woke up, but otherwise is well enough alert.]

Yes?

[inlikethebrume]

[Man, does she have weird luck with catching people who just woke up or were sleeping? Well, at least some people have the decency to sleep in proper places. Yeah, looking at you Exarch.]

Oh bugger, I did not interrupt anything did I?

Emet-Selch; sometime around the 15th?

[omnicrafter]

[For her part, Irhya has been trying to feed frequently to maintain her body temperature, spreading it out amongst as many different people as she can manage to ease the burden on everyone. It helps when the primary mode of warmth is huddling together in front of a fire, but it also proves useful for her to feel something resembling alive again.

Mira had her second turn several nights ago, so she decides it's time to trouble Emet-Selch for it again. She hasn't forgotten the suggestion from last time, and though she'll be perfectly content if things only end with cuddling as they have the past several instances, there's a part of her she can't explain that still longs to jump at the chance. It's nonsensical and pointless but for a quick thrill, but such is her primary mode of living.

She knocks on his door, wearing a thick, overlarge sweater to try and conserve heat.]

Can I come in? Sorry to trouble you, but I need to... you know.

[unsundered]

[Emet-Selch had neither anticipated, nor dreaded, Irhya eventually returning to him for a meal. A meal with additions, even. It felt a strange thing to casually accept- allowing someone to take his blood, particularly someone who could still technically be considered an enemy. But he didn't dwell on it overmuch, accepting that it would all probably happen, so long as Irhya didn't lose her nerve somewhere along the way.

And this was as fine a time as any, the Ascian supposed, opening the door to meet her. He hadn't been particularly busy, hadn't been asleep, was in possession of as much blood as he ever did.

So he waves Irhya in with little fanfare, not terribly friendly about it, but then, he rarely was.]

It's fine. You're not interrupting anything.

modranicht gift

[thejoyrider]

[There is a small canvas bag decorated with a blue ribbon on Irhya’s doorstep. Inside she would find an assortment of hairpins, scrunchies and other hair ornaments Marie was able to find on the market, all lily flower-themed.

“I thought these would suit you well” the attached note reads.]

Mondranicht gift! (backdated)

[kivatteru]

[ Irhya will find a small, bright blue gift box wrapped up in golden ribbons.

Inside there's a set of hair decorations and a bracelet he himself crafted, and a message that says: ]

I know it's not much, but I'm glad that I could make them in time for the holidays. Hopefully you like them, and I wish happier days for you in the future.

- Wataru

Special Delivery: Feb 14th

[inlikethebrume]

[Somehow Mira manages to slip in her room unnoticed enough to drop these off on her nightstand. As well as a note:]

'Hope these find you well. Not much of a chocolatier but I hope you enjoy them.

-Mira'

Closed; let's do this~

[inlikethebrume]

[From Here]

And we certainly do not want to have an audience right now.

[Hells, if Vani ever hears them, she would be going even redder. But her grip does get a bit tighter, feeling the butterflies in her stomach form as she looks at Irhya for a moment.]

Your room then? I know a ward where any noise stays within. It might be useful.

[Spoken quietly as she does look away a little. Oh one of them knows her ability to get vocal and she'll work on being quieter. But it's simply a precaution.]

[omnicrafter]

That might be a fair precaution, yes...

[There's a secretive smile on her lips as she goes up the stairs, towards her own room, and bows with full flourish as she lets Hades and Mira in. And then, the second the door is closed, she makes a snap decision, grabbing Hades' hand on impulse and twining their fingers together as she backs him slowly towards the bed.]

Mira, after you enact the barrier, I think we should get this one properly interested in what we're doing first. Perhaps he just needs a little extra attention to get motivated?

After a certain dream

[inlikethebrume]

[It's a peculiar thing. Usually Mira's tether to Irhya is open, always warm and comforting. But at this moment, Mira's side has closed itself off which is telling of one matter:

Something's wrong.

Mostly empty from the other dark knight but there is something leaking out, finding itself go up their Bond: cold and brittle. Something hurtful. But the woman doesn't realize she's doing it nor does she try to call. After what happened, she's not sure what to do. Mira's hurt and she afraid to speak out on it. What if she hurts them too...?]

[omnicrafter]

[It's unsettling, feeling that come from Mira, and it reads as naught but a cry for help to Irhya. She is pretty quick to knock on Mira's door to investigate, an odd weight in her stomach telling her something bad must have happened.]

Mira? What's going on?

text; un: whitestone

[gunsmithed]

Good evening. Hiccup pointed me in your direction.

[ Still slightly bitter about that, but he is at least trying. ]

My name is Percival.

[omnicrafter]

Hello! I'm Irhya. Thank you for following through!

So... unwitting recipient of a Bond advertisement aside, he mentioned you had some niche hobbies? He wouldn't tell me what they were, though, and I'm curious now.

text; mid october

[unsundered]

[A few days had passed since Emet-Selch's return to his mirror, since- everything immediately afterward. But it would take more time than this to settle him, to grow at all accustomed to all that had happened, both in Aefenglom, and at home. A lifetime to settle his thoughts, to reminisce, to accept.

To live, apparently. In this strange world far from home, he was permitted life, permitted thoughts that weren't gradually drifting away from him, one by one as he let his consciousness fade into that aetherial sea. Interrupted from his slow dissipation, he was here; and yet, despite being denied his retirement, he found he didn't mind. Tired as he remained, there was no rush.

Bringing up Irhya's name in his watch, Emet-Selch just looks at it for a long time, staring at the blank field below without typing anything at all. Where could he even start? It felt like lifetimes ago now that they had argued, had reconciled of sorts, in a pattern that continued. And while he didn't regret it, exactly (in the same way that he didn't regret any of the Rejoinings, anything that he'd done), it called up a mentality that he had a harder time reaching. Even when they were on better terms, there had always been an undercurrent of resentment from him, of grief that he could barely contain. There had always been distance. As yet, that was perhaps still there, but all of that fear and anger, that lack of forgiveness, that tendency towards spite- it felt, not foreign, but not something he could call to mind quite so readily.

What was left in its wake, he couldn't tell. But that was all the more reason to talk to her. To... find some sort of answer.

Irhya wasn't the Warrior of Light that he had helped, but- the Emet-Selch of her world would have done the same, he's certain. He knows himself, if nothing else; he would've entrusted the world to her, to the humanity she'd successfully championed for. The Ascian... still didn't like them. He still had a measure of distrust for them, disdain, even, but--

--but it hadn't been the time for them to perish. It was... their world now, to live and die with such transience; the star was theirs to guide from that moment forward. And he could rest. His work unfinished, his people lost, but- their time was over. It had been over for so long, lost from the start, for all that he'd never been able to see it.

What Emet-Selch actually ends up sending is extremely brief. A non-sequitur, a comment that consists of only a handful of letters, swiftly typed, for all that he had taken so long to consider his words to start.]

You were right.

[How utterly cryptic.]

[omnicrafter]

[No kidding. She could be right about a lot of things if he'd give her an ilm or two... but she manages to put a lid on the sarcastic commentary for now. She had wanted to speak to him after... that little development, but this works just as well. It seems he has something to say to her, too, one way or another. He wouldn't waste his time on idle conversation otherwise.]

What was I right about?

Txt

[fuelingfire]

The child claiming innocence wronged by such a terrible evil for the public is a thief and a liar.

If you wish to keep tabs on where the trouble may start, look to the boy playing you for a fool. You have ever been easy to manipulate by such an act, haven't you?

I was generous enough to leave him completely unharmed when he chose to steal from me, and then tried to lie. After all he is a child. But he is old enough to not repeat mistakes. If he is foolish enough to do it again I will bring unto him what mortals inflict upon thieves stealing for entertainment.

[omnicrafter]

Even if he did start it, how about you don't do that? Didn't you end up pawning the thing off anyway, for all that it meant so much to you?

Some stupid kid's mistakes don't always warrant pain in death, you know. Most of us had plenty of those when we were teenagers.

~lateish november

[unsundered]

[After Irhya had asked him to rebond with her at the masquerade, he had, as promised, thought about it. And while potential downsides existed, no more had come to mind as he considered it, nothing that had struck him as being particularly unwise.

Of course, it could still end terribly, they could resume causing the other pain as they had in the past. Even with Emet-Selch's understanding of things somewhat improved, along with an acceptance of his death and a recognition of the younger races' place on their star- well, he still wasn't the easiest person to get along with. He'd always bickered with Azem, and he'd likely continue to bicker with Irhya... but wasn't it worth another chance?]

I've thought about it.

Assuming you haven't lost either your nerve or your interest, I believe I would accept another Bond with you.

[omnicrafter]

I have not. And... thank you.

Kind of feels like two ex-lovers getting back together, huh? So do you wanna write vows again?

[One can imagine the teasing tone with which she would ask that aloud, because it's totally intentional.]

Modranicht

[unsundered]

[Modranicht. Starlight. Neither was a celebration, an event that meant anything at all to Emet-Selch.

But he knew it was celebrated by others, and this time that is something that he's willing to consider. And so, deposited at Irhya's desk at some point when the miqo'te is out, is a simple white box, tied with blue ribbon. Though undramatic, there's a certain understated elegance to it. Inside is an object, and a note.

The item, wrapped in silk cloth, should be one that he knows would be familiar to her now. A stone, carved, colored in the brilliant orange of the sun, and marked by its symbol. Her symbol, though she may have forsaken her seat and her title, and forgotten her past. Though simple, it had taken some effort to get it right; Emet-Selch was nothing if not particular when it came to things that mattered to him. Once again, he crafted it in secret (no one on the Convocation would ever understand), if through this foreign conjuration rather than his native magic. And in the end he was satisfied with it: Azem's constellation stone.

The note is as follows:]

Bereft of any magic or memory, apart from those you already carry with you. But you've no need for more than that, do you?


'What twisted roots dare clutch, what branches twist
Free of our broken husk? Daughter of war,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images. An echo overcast, the sun in shade
Yet warms the land she passes by.
Stars gathered, remembered,
A eulogy of silence. A promise quiet,
where words had not reached, but an answer given. I had remained, neither
Living nor dead, remembering all but knowing nothing,
Ambitions shorn, and dreams lost. An ending overdue
And the shadow's consolation. What final sight, but recognition granted,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.'

[It is unsigned, though the author and gift's origin are not exactly hard to guess. The handwriting is a bit... poor. His right hand was recently badly injured, so he had to use his left instead. He tried, and was too stubborn to get anyone else to write it for him.]

[omnicrafter]

[To say she's shocked is an understatement. That he would give her Azem's crystal is not only an acknowledgement of her worthiness to have it, but further proof he accepts her as she is. An action to drive his words in from before. And really, she can't remember the last time she was so blown away by a gift.

Not that she's going to let him get away with it without a word. She marches over to his room and knocks, the crystal held out in one hand as if to show it to him despite the fact he's the one who made it. The look on her face is pure astonishment, eyes wide and full of wonder.]

I... I was going to say something, but then I realized I don't know what to say. You really want to give me this?

Modranicht gift

[thejoyrider]

[On the day of the holiday, a plate of homemade cookies and a sample of herbal tea mysteriously appears on her doorstep. The wrapping is decorated with a fresh lily flower (actually a Fae magic product, designed to fade away from existence in a few hours) and a ribbon. The attached handwritten note reads as follows:]

Happy Modranicht! Let’s have another great year here in Aefenglom!

M⚜️

[Or, was the gift giver expected and caught red handed?]

[omnicrafter]

[Perhaps she was.

Irhya has been camping near the front door, having already intercepted one or two gifts already. Not the surprise one she wants, though... but then, would she even know who it was if she saw them? Still, the curiosity is a compelling excuse.

When Marie hits her doorstep, Irhya is quick to scramble outside just as she turns to leave.]

Oh. Marie? It's been a while. Doing your rounds, are you?

modranicht

[metalcrusher]

[A NOT LATE GIFT, as it gets delivered on one of the nights of Modranicht just like the rest! He remembers Irhya expressing that she prefers the practical, but practical gift-giving is very hard for MTT, to the point that he gets distracted easily from that ambition.

It's a white present wrapped in a red bow: classic, picturesque... And It's Addressed To You, Darling! Indeed, a drive-by Puca seems to have dropped off a gift before scampering away. It's a gift longer than wide, containing an ornate umbrella inside—one quite clearly enchanted. It might be a bit "much," but it struck Mettaton as a stand-out, and something he thought would look nice in her hand, anyway...]

Dear Irhya:

Do all Vampires struggle with the sun? Not anymore! It's hardly sunny weather in the cold of winter... But you'll be able to go out without risk of fatigue or burn, with confidence! I want to see you out there no matter the season. Maybe it's not practical... Or maybe it is. That's for you to decide. But it's still gorgeous, and that's what matters.

Happy Modranicht. —MTT

[Indeed, standing under the umbrella darkens nothing... But somehow, it feels like nightfall under its cover. It's more effective than a standard umbrella, and would prevent burns no matter what she chose to wear.