ANIMA MUNDI

Though his cheeks were flushed from the exercise, Nata found himself beaming, dark brows raised high onto his forehead and ignoring the small bead of sweat that dripped down from it. He grins at the other, and takes a few seconds to catch his breath before he decides to continue upwards.

Paradigm smiles at Nata, moving their tail out of the way so he has ample space to stand and take a break. "Well done!"

The thrill of the climb has taken him, it seems, as he moves up further. Paradigm sits and watches his ascent carefully. Now with being a spotter from below, it would be much easier to catch him if he fell.

The nostalgia of watching the young ones explore and grow brought warmth to Paradigm's metaphorical heart. they remember teaching fawnlings how to walk, birds to fledge for the first time, children how to swim. In the brief moment, they felt close to home again.

*. ⊹ ✧ — Fascination, curiosity, whatever strikes Caelus’ capricious nature. Credits shifts into the selection screen, leaving the marquee scroll without end; matters left to the passage of time. Huddling up until their bodies meld together, odor apparent.

Relishing in much-warranted peace—utilizing his Remembrance power to summon a localized, brief stoppage of time. The tell-tale heart and pastel blue tint which rippled across the affected area. A bubble which repels the real world from intruding.

🙶 Ah, so it has sentimental value. 🙷 Caelus, in his deep bliss and speaking in a hushed, gentle timbre, grins faintly. None of the impishness present. 🙶 So it’s a lot deeper than our ‘ borrowing a lover’s shirt or sweater ’ thing. After a⋯ certain deed, one of the couple wakes up and struts around with their partner’s top. 🙷 Cue smugness. 🙶 Of course, that’s a cliché. Cute, but not always applicable. 🙷

While conversing, the apparatus fades, leaving the room bare of the screen. The smarmy grin reverts to its minor upward curvature, fingers gliding against the fabric. Feather-light touch, giving half a mind to trepidation over ruination by wrinkling or worse.

Palming the tail in the same fashion, and the other hand abandons the cloak. Beholding the appendage, loosely and careful. Lids fluttered as he elevates it, cheek pressed against the topic of interest and rubbed his flesh over it. Head rotating at a scant angle, lifting the tail further. Lips settled on the surface; no more butterfly kisses, but a true one.

🙶 Do ya like that ? Because I’m not done yet. 🙷

More listening and more watching Caelus talk and move. Paradigm was getting the feeling that he was up to something, but they couldn't place what exactly the mischief maker was up to. Though it seemed that stealing a lover's garments was a universal concept, though why that was where the man went with it, wasn't as obvious until later.

"You aren't beating my allegations." They comment, feeling Caelus' face against their tail. Like a hand and an arm, Paradigm's tail was a fully functioning limb. They could use it as adeptly, if not more than both of their arms and legs.

It's that kiss that lingers a bit too long that catches their immediate attention. The words that follow bring thought to the slightest of halts. Not done? With what? A hint of wine briefly crosses their face, the anticipation of what was being promised was titillating for a moment. Then another thought passes the almutian's mind: everything starts to make much more sense. The worry, the anxiety, the adamant stance on them being well at all times.

Clearly they had caught someone's particular attention. Even after centuries, they still had something going on with them. It was almost a moment of pride for Paradigm. To wordlessly answer the other's question, their tail coils just a little more around the wrist that holds it so dearly. Maybe he would be smart enough to figure it out, maybe not.

A free hand is put up to Paradigm's face, letting it lean on it and give Caelus an inquisitive stare. "If I didn't know any better... I'd say this was a tricky plan so you could flirt with me."

Paradigm had centuries to become as perceptive as they came.

*. ⊹ ✧ — A scam ? 🙶 By a technicality, 🙷 Caelus murmurs, soft yawn slipping past. 🙶 Mostly monetary and others, your time, too. But ya see, in this case, we’ll never know. As satire itself can be a meta device. 🙷 Gripping Paradigm’s cloak, silky over fabric, draping a portion of it. Now cuddled by Paradigm and their attire. Even soloing this film is a downgrade.

The credits rolled. Eyes twitched in lack of wakefulness, taking a breather for recovering missing information. Off-white text on a vertical marquee; the previous effects included a more horizontal approach. Piecing together what Paradigm asked as Caelus nearly subjected himself to a most lovely nap.

Describing Penacony as a glitz-and-glamour laden area, where memoria concentrated; where one's ‘ dreams ’ come true, separated by twelve segments—negative reviews forthcoming, as Caelus explained its flawed conception as a planet chosen as one of the IPC’s prison holdings. Tales of Amber Eras, influence quashed, and once more snapped up by the implacable company.

🙶 ⋯ a sparkly beacon of excess. The Asdana star system is swimmin’ in memoria in general, it's mostly concentrated in Penacony. Not good for those allergic to it. Good thing fall damage's not a thing, as I learned during my first visit. 🙷

Favors paid by the Nameless’ deeds in Penacony include pawning off ownership of a large flying device—an airship for Caelus, and a pithy share of the planet itself. Ultimately, the capitalist empire succeeded by shrewdness by tailing the Express’ triumphs.

🙶 So warm. Can ya make a replica for me ? The cloak, I mean. 🙷

Paradigm listens carefully. The one time they had gone, it was a mess. That planet was somehow toxic to their being, and the memoria was not something they could be around in that concentration. As much as he jokes now, Paradigm remembers how anxious Caelus was about the aftermath: something hardly his fault as neither of them new. Now, whenever the situation arose, Paradigm stayed on the Express for their own health.

they did not seem to be missing too much then. A comment they would have made were it not for someone trying to abduct their cloak. Tattered and frayed edge ignored in favour of the material.

"You seem to be very fond of things attached to me." A bit of a teasing observation. "This cloak is very special."

Clawed hands run over the material. Still as soft as the first day. A fond heirloom at this point. Thoughts drift as the hand brushes over it slowly, memories from centuries passed coming back to the forefront of their mind.

"It was a blanket. One my parents made for me, later fashioned into a cloak in my very first lifetime. It is... hmm..."

A long and dutiful pause to find the right words to explain. It was another word that didn't quite have a direct translation. Eyes shut for a moment, nose wrinkles. Eyes open once more when Paradigm gives up on that endeavour.

"Sempernum. An item that persists through time, connected to our vitsang. Something that goes against most of our traditions by being an unchanging fixture in one's lifetimes. Only Soulbonded almutian's can make them, as those choose to be forever connected through every lifetime. The term you have for that is 'soulmates' I think... and no matter what happened to me, no matter what lifetime, they always wanted me to find one comfort in the world from them."

The ultimate childhood blanket.

     Eros is still trying to shake them even as they're being ushered to the sofa and made to sit down. Their enthusiasm is palpable. So so excited to get to talk about something like this with their elder sibling. Oh, they never thought they'd get to do this!

     “ Still! Still if y'er askin' that means y'might have someone in mind! ” He's practically squealing in delight at the thought.

     He brings a hand up and takes a breath trying to calm himself. Excitement aside, he does want to help them if he can. They're his precious Paradigm, after all! He'd never want to steer them in the wrong direction or tell them things that might not be true.

     One of his claws taps against the side of his cheek and his brow is furrowing as he thinks it over. “ I wouldn't call ‘em escapades! I’ll have y'know y'er brother's in a very happy and committed relationship, thank y'very much! ”

Teasing seems to hit it's mark, but his endearment towards being asked about something so sensitive is infectious. Having someone to consider family that they could turn to physically... it meant a lot more than Eros may ever know.

"Maybe. Perhaps." They answer almost coyly, just to keep Eros anticipating.

"I'm glad you have a special someone and you're happy. It is not always easy to find someone like that. I've had lifetimes without more than with."

A very wide difference. That was a topic for another time. Now, it was time to sit with their sibling and talk, educate, and if Eros had his way, gossip more about the subject.

@parastrum asked: "Eros, are there typical courting rituals people these days have, or is it vastly dependent on culture and species?"

     “ Depends on th' species, really. ” It's a quick reply, his eyes on his phone. His own relationship at the forefront of his mind until he stops mid text. His beloved can wait a moment. The phone is all but dropped as he jumps up from his desk and approaches his elder sibling. Hands grip at their shoulders and he starts to shake them.

     “ Why are y'askin' me this?! Has somebody finally caught y'er fancy?! ”

Paradigm guessed that Eros was the best person to ask about this, but the enthusiasm catches them off guard. They use their tail tos tabilize themself while standing, hands going over Eros' as they move the pair of them to sit down on a nearby sofa.

"I'm asking you- sit, sit you silly - because I'm not sure!" They are smirking at him, amused by his reaction altogether.

They had been away for a bit, but this topic they saved the day after Paradigm's return to get rest and proper advice. Eros, if anyone, would know about many facets of romance. Even if most of them were sexual in nature.

"I'm unsure if someone else might have taken a fancy to me so, you know a lot and have a lot of experience with such things. I don't need to remind you of your escapades." They tap his nose.

*. ⊹ ✧ — No argument forms. Caelus knows Paradigm is correct in their assertion. Someone who lazes and yet the personification of discord on a whim, and even slothful conduct is part and parcel of the Trailblazer’s excursions into that pesky little world called ‘ trouble. ’

Thankfully, peace of mind exists. For now.

As he registered Paradigm’s words, Caelus offers a slow nod. 🙶 I’m fine enough. With one regret, though. 🙷 A boop. Compromising this tranquility, however, left the desired action in a mental bucket list; sifting through its several entries reveals movie night with Paradigm. Capturing this lull with a lopsided grin. 🙶 I’ll boop ya on the face later. 🙷

No follow-up, as the atrocious artifact plays. Worth noting that its opener sounds like a legitimate, cozy film with unremarkable subject matter: a wayward feline and its owner’s quest on locating his pet.

Antics include special effects which malfunctioned or even refused to materialize, the artificial nature of the cat, and poor comedic timing. And dry dialogue throughout for a film of its genre.

🙶 I wonder if this is satire. No way this passed quality control, 🙷 Caelus pondered. 🙶 Perhaps the point of its miserable existence is that people will adapt any and everything, as long as it has an audience. Taste not taken into account, of course. 🙷

Recalling a certain director he crossed paths with, Caelus was tempted to export this garbage to him for the sake of entertainment. 🙶 Satire can have terrible execution, though, so it’s a toss-up whether it’s the writer’s intent or Penacony having low standards. 🙷

A boop on the face? What was that? The statement confuses them for the meantime but soon enough they'll find out. They aren't sure of the anticipation of something was hindering their ability to follow along with the movie or not.

About to ask what satire was, Caelus is already on trying to explain it. With context clues, it seems to be a form of sarcastic comedy. There are a few moments of absurdity that make Paradigm chuckle. They relax and lean on Caelus in a poor attempt to lounge on him to bring him more comfort. Few things grounded others like the physical presence of another.

"So is this... movie a scam?" They ask, bringing it back to their original point of conversation. "It doesn't seem to be the product as advertised... or does satire play a part in it not being a scam?"

The entirety of society these days confused the poor almutian. Too many layers and complexities. Too much about who was in charge of what and how it all worked together.

Apparently Penacony was notorious for such things. Not that Paradigm could go there. That planet was almost an antithesis of everything Paradigm was. Strange how a planet could make them so ill.

The way Dan Heng describes himself, he sounds as if he were some alternate form of the Tetriarch. The Tetriarch was everything, land, sea, wind. So there were similar beings around the grand cosmos, and perhaps navigating it wouldn't be as difficult, so long as Paradigm remained in such good graces.

They take the offered food and listen, eating slowly and struggling to remember how to chew. These motions had not been used in a very long time. Teeth and tongue at risk of chewing on each other if one wasn't careful.

Paradigm stops and stills at the question of what they are called. There was only ever their kind... it never had a name. Their hand falls incredibly slowly while eyes gaze into nothing, thinking long and hard about how to answer the question.

"I... don't... know." They answer honestly. "We have never had one before. Never needed one... and I..."

They swallow, not out of eating, but reflexively out of realization.

"I might be the only one left..." Their voice trails, despondent. "You were... are the only being close to how the Tetriarch and my kind feel... but I don't sense them... anywhere."

Eyes shut for longer than a standard moment. Paradigm thinks quietly to themself, and it seems if an internal conversation is happening. Claws drift to the centre of their chest as of to recall something. In reality, they are reaching out to someone.

There is a faint answer in their mind. Then another.

A small relaxing of the shoulders.

Paradigm's eyes open and they look back at the jerky, and the plants. "Al...mu...tian."

They wait for hidden confirmation.

     ❝They agreed before they lost consciousness. Let's go.❞      And with matching nods from his parents the group sets off back the way they'd first arrived.

     As expected Dan Heng was assigned guard, and while Welt and Himeko talk it over with the others he has been making preparations in the Archives. Paradigm's body carefully placed upon his bedroll, though blanket left aside. Doesn't want them to misunderstand for restraints upon waking. A possibility he's triggered in himself upon waking from nightmare to being tangled in the blanket.      Scattered books upon the floor screen have been put away and several spare plant pots like the one on his desk, all borrowed from Pom-Pom, are now placed around the bed and filled with various mature plants; daffodils, cherry tomatoes, and one a dwarf blueberry bush. The large pot he sleeps in is empty save for fertile soil, and for now pushed away against the server unit to provide more open space.      Dan Heng himself is seated in the desk chair, turned to face the bed, nibbling on a granola bar. Keep his energy levels up after the expenditure. Beside him on the desk are several encyclopedias for easy grabbing of reference photos, as well as a bag of jerky strips taken from the kitchen. An alternate sustenance option for Paradigm if vegetation truly isn't enough. He still won't give blood without knowing more of Paradigm's species but meat could perhaps work. Fresher would need to be asked for.      Finally when yet another gentle reaching out of his senses, earthen energy brushing against the body on his bed, when it results in something different as said body begins to stir, Dan Heng quickly sets his granola bar down and moves to kneel beside them. Don't get too close, don't spook them, but be on their level for waking.

They don't know how long they were unconscious for. The body moves just to see if it can, but weakness takes over soon. A gentle voice permeates the silence, letting bleary eyes know to try and open. There is something solid against their side, but with a soft texture. Lights, but no fluorescent hum. Was that water they were on top of...?

When a hand reaches out, no. It's some kind of illusion. Their movements are similar to a body reanimating in slow motion, as other stimuli doesn't seem to register as it should. Taking it slow was one thing, but this was perhaps much too slow.

Paradigm's eyes open, looking clouded as a blind man's would at first, but clear up in a few slow blinks. They follow the voice and look upon Dan Heng properly... does he look different or is that just the fatigue?

"Mmm..." They vocalize... realizing they understand Dan Heng still perfectly. "H... how..."

That was still a struggle. Back to the native tongue.

"How do you understand this...?" They ask, still on their side and not attempting to move. With a proper way to vocalize, the language sounds like vibrating crystal mixed with foreign words. "You are not... one of my kin...?"

Yet, the plants around them seem to resonate somewhat with him. Eyes drift and their head languidly looks at the potted plants around them. Unfamiliar, but welcome all the same. their tail reaches out to brush a leaf... these are real.

Were these the options? Food? They remember to inhale through their nose, and all sorts of different smells hit them at once, making them scrunch their face a little.

Sustenance, however, prompts a reason to rise from their side, albeit just as slow. When was the last time they sat in peace? A claw takes one of the cherry tomatoes and puts it between sharp teeth. A welcome change indeed.

Definitely not | No | Not Really | Its Okay | Kinda | Yes | Fuck yes |There goes my pants |