low-activity

Usually---and she suspected that it came with the territory of being friends with Laxus---Carena liked storms. However, usually she was watching storms from the safety of her warm home. She already liked them a lot less when they got in the way of her work. Now that a storm was brewing while she was injured and had places to be, she could not claim to be a fan. It was gnawing on her, the knowledge that this storm was not on her side. And warm clothing would only mitigate the unpleasantness that awaited her, it would not be able to fully protect her from it.

But while she was hardly looking forward to the journey home (because it would be a rough one), she was looking forward to the comforts awaiting her at home---a nice bubble bath might be out of the question unless Porlyusica just made the wound go away, but a recent shopping spree had ended with a comfortable set of cosy lounge wear. A part of her shuddered---apparently, adulthood meant getting excited about the promise of slipping into comfortable clothing and being tucked under warm blankets with a good book. Maybe, she pondered, maybe she would leverage her injury and ask to borrow some of Laxus' more relaxing records . . . and the record player that was usually in the dining room.

Lost in thoughts of whether or not she would have to play up the pain she was in (probably not, her side was aching quite a bit) to convince her dearest friends and roommates to nurse her back to health, she missed the sound of Gray's returning footsteps, just like she missed the return of his very adorable dog. Consequently, she almost flinched when the winter gear was draped over her. Ah. The omnipresent pompoms revealed the scarf to be Lisanna Couture---unless Gray knew someone else who would gift him a handcrafted scarf---and Carena could not help but smile a little bit. It was a bit of a reminder, she needed to actually post the package she had assembled for Lisanna a while ago.

Flicking a strand of her hair over her scarf-covered shoulder, she turned her head to glance at Gray for a moment, feeling almost tempted to pout a little at him before suppressing that weird impulse. "Really makes me wonder what kind of oversized bug you think I am," she mused as he drifted away, not unlike a snowflake in a breeze, to feed Muddy. "Actually---don't answer that. My pride is as bruised as my side."

Eating another few spoons of her breakfast, she pondered his offer. It would be the responsible thing to accept it, she knew that much. Flying long distances while either in pain or right after taking pain killers are not exactly a wise decision due to the risk of getting disoriented, but getting caught in a storm was even unwiser. She was not overly concerned over letting her quest givers know that the situation had been handled---she was not strapped for cash---but she really needed to get back to Magnolia. She could not risk getting stuck in the mountains, especially not due to a storm as storms were notoriously unpredictable.

He did, however, flash a grin back at his guest in reaction to her comment, even as he was temporarily distracted by his dog. His own reply danced in the back of his mind and threatened to jump from the tip of his tongue, yet he held it back, squashing it down to the strange, unknown depths it had sprung from. He wasn’t about to let such thoughts see the light of day again, nor was he going to examine them too closely. No, instead he would follow her request to not answer her on the topic.

He refocused on Muddy once the dog had finished eating, crouching down to ruffle her fur as he contemplated Evergreen’s questions. Knowing the storm that was coming, and the potential interrogation she’d have to face from her friends, he understood, and in fact appreciated, her preference to make the most efficient trip back to her home. Despite the logic and how he’d likely make the same choice in her shoes, he was aware of a strange twinge in his chest at the realisation she’d have to be on her way soon. He frowned at the sensation and forced himself to ignore it, pushing his thoughts towards visualising the land and paths in the area.

“Yeah, Fireweed is almost directly on the other side of the mountain,” he said. Returning to full height and leaning back against the kitchen counter, he folded his arms across his chest and added, “Probably more northeast of here.”

The question of his MCL’s state brought forth a smidgen of defensiveness to tug on his lower lip as he frowned briefly (read: pouted like a sulky child). Still, it was a fair question, he didn’t have the best track record with the damn things after all.

Rubbing the back of his neck a little sheepishly, he grumbled with a sigh, “Yeah, yeah, it’s intact…”

It occurred to him then that he hadn’t even looked at the device since at least sometime the previous morning. Maybe he should check on it. Decision made, he pushed off from the counter and moved past Evergreen to where his MCL sat on the far corner of the coffee table. He plucked it up and moved back towards her, holding it up for her viewing.

“See? Intact,” he stated, perhaps a little too confidently, even waving the device a little to make a point.

Which was, of course, the moment he lost his grip on the MCL, and it slipped from his fingers like a fish. “Oh shit.” His quick reflexes had him reaching for the thing as it tumbled midair, but his fingers bumped it and it only gained new height to fall from. Just in time, he clapped both hands around it and prevented its headlong rush to the hardwood floor. He let out a sigh of relief and straightened up, almost wincing as he stole a glance at Evergreen.

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention to his MCL in the hopes of ignoring his momentary clumsiness. With great focus, he unlocked the device and checked for notifications, unsure how he truly felt about the fact there was only one (1) message (and it was from Lisanna, and he didn’t open it as it was no doubt another picture of a highly accessorised snowman she’d made, with the caption ‘it’s you’).

He shook his head slightly and slid the MCL into his pocket. Ruffling his hair with one hand, he ventured back to thoughts of Evergreen’s upcoming journey.

“Uh…anyway…You could do a short flight from out the back here,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the backdoor. “And go over the ridge on the right, then down into the forest. There’s a path through it that you can take if you don’t have the energy for flying. Being under the trees will keep some of the bad weather off you for a while too. But it’s a pretty dense area and not the clearest trail, so you’ll have to watch your step. No monsters in there though, so that’s something.”

Not by coincidence, the monsters of the area had disappeared not long after he’d set up residence in the cabin. It was partly due to his own efforts to get rid of them, yet he knew deep down that there were many that had fled from his ‘territory’ once they sensed the darkness he held within his magic and corroded soul. He’d decided not to question the specifics or get caught up on the meaning of it, gone was gone after all.

He gave a small shrug, mind back on other possible paths around for Evergreen. There were a few options she could take.

She fell into silence for a bit. Sipped her tea, allowed herself to wake up more. It was almost hilarious---twenty-four hours ago, she had gotten off the train, checked in with the quest giver and then started her pursuit of the monster that had gotten her into this situation in the first place. By no means had this been a difficult job---she would have brought backup otherwise, but just around noon, a day ago, she had thought "This should be easy. What could possibly go wrong?", effectively dooming herself.

What had gone wrong, rapidly, had been that the monster had not behaved the way she would have expected it to as it had not fallen for the trap she had set. With the knowledge she now had---that the weather would change---it now made sense that the creature would try to return to its shelter rather than hunt, but it had not made sense, sixteen hours ago. Following the ice salamander to its lair had been a foolish mistake, a rookie mistake, but she had already berated herself sufficiently for that instance of stupidity while she had tried to get back to civilisation to get her wounds tended to. And in the end, she had succeeded, which had been enough to ensure that she had not been too harsh with herself.

She accepted the smoothie Gray was handing her with a nod before taking a first sip. It was good, and smoothies were generally a good way to get some vitamins in. "Thank you," she said quietly as she twirled a strand of her hair around her finger before threading it back into her messy bun. "And I think I'll go with the sugary one---and I don't even have to climb onto the kitchen counter to get the box," she added, grimly, as she put the cereals into a bowl before adding some milk. Her roommates knew what they had done, repeatedly, and despite her telling them to be a bit more considerate of the fact that she could not reach the top shelf.

She knew, she could always unfurl her wings and fly up, just a bit, but it was a matter of principle at this point, and she would not give in.

Gray's weather forecast and the hinted-at warning that accompanied it was, well, it was not unexpected. He was the expert for this area, and he was right---she would have to bundle up, lest she wanted to add a nasty cold to the list of reasons why she needed to see Porlyusica. A quick surge of frustration with herself threatened to consume her, but she was quite adept at regulating her emotions. And really, she would have been out of the area already, if not for her injury. And the fact that she had ended up walking into the wrong direction, because of the injury. Though really, in how far it had been the 'wrong' direction was debatable; it had been nice to catch up with Gray a bit.

Still, she could not help but feel a little embarrassed---she had been on the shortlist for S-class, she should know how to prepare a job properly. "I swear," she muttered, "I am usually much better prepared for sudden changes in the weather. That is to say that I would appreciate it greatly if you had some cold weather clothes I can borrow. I need to get to your neighbour village to collect my reward, and as much as I usually trust my coat, I think it has a vent now and the storm will chill me to the bone."

She would take her coat to a tailor the moment she was properly back in Magnolia. She was quite adept with needle and thread, but while she had mended plenty of small tears in her clothes over the years, she could not claim to ever have fixed a fur coat and kept it looking good---nor had she ever given it a try. There was probably some kind trick to it that she did not know, and while she was ready to experiment with some of her clothes, the coat had been a gift from Laxus and she knew that he had paid good money for it. Getting it fixed by an expert was the least she could do to show her continued appreciation for the gift.

She sighed as she took another sip of her smoothie. It was still good. And really, she did not have to stress about borrowing a coat or something, did she? They were friends. Borrowing clothes was pretty normal. "A coat and a scarf or maybe even a hat would be appreciated," she said, bravely maintaining her composure. "I'll probably fly over---it's a bit more difficult, sure, but it's much quicker and don't get me wrong, but I would rather enjoy having the interrogation Freed is surely preparing right now behind me."

He turned his attention back to his guest, dipping his head in acknowledgement as she accepted his offer of warmer clothes. A measure of relief eased his shoulders, knowing that she was wise enough to see the necessity and not foolishly deny it. He’d known people (and yes…sometimes ‘people’ had in fact been simply himself), that had stubbornly insisted that they would be fine without the extra layers, too confident in themselves and in their estimation of their travel. It didn’t tend to end well.

Still, was it any surprise that Evergreen was sensible enough to take the help? Of course not. She was certainly better at it than he was, and he could appreciate that it might be hard for her in any case. He knew that if the situation was reversed and he had (somehow) accepted help, his pride would be grating on him. The last thing he would want would be for someone to make a big deal out of his situation or make excuses for him. With that in mind, he said nothing else on the matter and instead simply took a large draught of his smoothie before setting down the glass on the countertop.

“I’ll get you some warm stuff now,” he said, beginning to move past Evergreen, deciding he might as well do the task in the moment.

As he headed into his bedroom, it occurred to him that there was a chance his guest might think he was eager to get her on her way. Following that thought, it also occurred to him that he was in fact, not eager to send her on her way. It was…strange to consider, that he found himself reluctant for her to leave when he was normally quite content on his own, but it really shouldn’t be strange. She was, after all, easy to be around and they were…friends? Yeah, friends.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind and set his attention on the chest of drawers in his room. Giving thought to his prediction of the weather, chilled air and a chance of snow later, he decided a hoodie would be a nice, cozy option for her. He would grab a spare coat for her later too, when it was time for her to leave.

Opening the largest drawer, he surveyed the options for a moment, then pulled out one of his favourite hoodies. Dark brown, soft, subtly lined with fleece for extra warmth, the item would no doubt swamp Evergreen’s figure, but that was precisely why he chose it (and perhaps also because the colour would complement her better than some of the other options).

He plucked it from its haphazard place with its confines, then draped it over his arm as he closed the drawer and opened a different one. With remarkably less consideration than his previous choice, he withdrew a set of sky blue, knitted winterwear – a scarf, gloves, and beanie.

This set, like the four others of varying colours within the drawer, had been knitted and gifted to him by Lisanna. She’d gotten rather into the hobby lately and had insisted on forcing generously sharing her creations with him. He recalled she’d been quite pleased with this particular set, as she’d implemented a white cloud pattern and had also gotten the hang of making pompoms (the ends of the scarf and top of the beanie bore evidence of her newfound love for the decorative element). He was sure Lisanna wouldn’t mind him lending the items to someone in need, especially to one of her own friends.

Goods in hand, he exited the room to return to Evergreen. Since she was occupied with her breakfast, he gently tossed the hoodie and gloves to rest over the back of the nearby armchair for when she was ready for them. Seeing her with her bowl of cereal, and thinking back to her comment of not having to climb on the counter to get it, he wondered if her roommates did put the cereal boxes out of her reach on purpose, just to get a reaction from her.

The image of her chipmunk cheek pout came to mind, and he had a feeling that if that was the face she’d make at such an act, he could see why her friends would be tempted to provoke it. Ever since he’d seen it himself, some time ago now, the expression occasionally popped into his mind and made him wonder how to bring it about again. The urge to do something to tease a reaction from her tickled the back of his mind like the whisper of a little devil on his shoulder. It had been a long while since he’d last felt such a thing, and in fact, he’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel it at all. In truth (although it was little known), once he was comfortable with a person and sure of their reactions, he was the type to delight in being a nuisance to them from time to time.

Mentally shaking himself, he stepped through the kitchen to open the back door and allow Muddy her re-entry, closing it again once she scampered through. The icy touch of the breeze slipped inside and once more made him aware that his guest was likely cold, even with the door firmly shut again. Driven by an impulse he didn’t want to look to closely at, he moved closer to Evergreen and draped the scarf he still held around her shoulders. Then, he unfolded the beanie and settled it on her head, gently tugging it into place.

A smile flashed briefly across his face at the way the floppy pointed end of the hat draped down over her forehead. He readjusted it to hang at the back and then gave a small but mischievous flick to the pompom.

“There,” he said, “snug as a little bug now.” His gaze, warmed with amusement, referenced her tshirt with a quick glance before he shifted away and got busy setting out food for his eager canine.

While Muddy happily dug into her morning meal, Gray straightened up and considered what Evergreen had said about her flying back to the village. It made sense for her to try travel as quickly as she could, not just to try fast forward Freed’s inevitable questioning, but to get ahead of any bad weather. He sighed, not envying her journey or return home.

♫ ❚❙❘ Her body tensed at the feeling of his fingers angling her face. Without vision it was unexpected, yet she supposed made sense. As someone who was the pen holder moments ago, it was rather difficult to draw in midair. So the girl did her best to not retract her head like her reflexes wanted.

  Her hands were a different story, With the right one now free, they resumed their usual position of being clasped together in front of her. Fidgeting together as a restless idly motion although not so much so out of nerves. Of course Olexa was anxious at the moment, but there was a layer of trust she had for her guildmate. Perhaps that was another reason why she had yet to pull away. Even if he was chuckling to himself rather suspiciously.

     ❝Wha-what kind of rune?❞ At the mention of magic curiosity took over her thoughts. The eye facing him peaked open, as if simply seeing the pen would give her the answer to her question. She could read very little of them at the moment, and still had yet to grasp how to get them to work. Could he cast a spell with just a single one? Olexa hoped that wasn't the case, it would just fall into the "something weird" category she has previously asked him to avoid otherwise.

Seeing her steal a look at him at the mention of a rune, a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Perhaps one that will have you speak gibberish for the rest of the day?” he suggested, “Or walk backwards everywhere? That would be fun, don’t you think?”

He wouldn’t truly use a rune on her of course, and he hoped she realised or even simply sensed that there was no real intent behind his words, only teasing.

“Cute?” He raised an eyebrow at her apparent attempt at persuading him to have leniency. He tsked again at her, affecting a slight frown, “Cute is hardly befitting my image.”

Sighing, he added, “I’m afraid you’ve committed a grave offense…This calls for a powerful rune indeed.”

♫ ❚❙❘ She always had a talent for being quiet. Stealth just so happened to be a skill one gains when one grew up being invisible. Perhaps that is why after some prodding she had taken the bait and accepting the dare. It was a harmless prank after all, pen washed out, and she wouldn't dare draw anything inappropriate which could not be said about the others. Besides, was it wishful thinking that on the chance she was caught, he would just laugh along? They had become quite good friends after all, right?

― shit.

The curse echoed in her mind, only accompanied by the ever so loud beating of her heart. Foolish really, too focused on calming her nerves, the girl failed to realize he was barely sleep. Or worse, completely awake. Considering how there were no other giggles voices around them, she did not bother turning around to give a glance filled with pleas. To be expected, she would certainly make a note to hunt them down later to retrieve the jewels promised for such an act.

Olexa's eyes darted from her wrist he still held (her right wrist she had to remind herself to keep calm), to the pen he stole, and finally back to his face. She didn't realize how close she had gotten in an effort to draw in a steady and light manor. The "artwork" was small but neat, once he found himself a mirror he wouldn't possible be mad at her. Although Freed didn't seem mad in the first place. No, his smirking expression was almost unsettling.

As he studied her proffered face, contemplating his revenge, he considered also the possibility of simply letting her go. She was willing to allow him the opportunity to draw on her face in recompense (not that she had a lot of say in the matter), perhaps that was enough. He did appreciate when a person would accept responsibility for their actions, and yet… he found it too difficult to resist using the moment to tease her. Perhaps it was the anticipation of stirring a reaction from her, a chance to see her response up close (for indeed they were close in the moment), or perhaps it was simply the devil in his nature.

He released the grasp on her wrist to instead take light hold of her face. Finger and thumb supporting her chin, he made a show of gently turning her head side to side as he gave a thoughtful hum, as if deciding where to put his mark.

“What should I draw, do you think? You’ve given me the perfect weapon and opportunity, you know.” Indeed, as a mage with a speciality in written forms of magic, the possibilities were endless.