' i don't know how the both of you are so quiet, ' the inquisitor hisses between clenched teeth. walking through these empty, white halls makes it feel like every one of his steps reverberates through them. his heavy armour clinks with each movement.

rixian, at the very least, makes sense. he moves about roguishly, light on his feet. he knows the carefulness of his steps from watching sera and varric, knows that he could draw a weapon without iloren hearing if he had his back turned.

but with a glance backwards, he notices that balduran levitates. just a few inches off the ground for now, not enough to have him notice until this moment. no wonder then that he's silent as well, the inquisitor raising a brow at him before he puts his focus in front of them again.

' oh, gods— '

fiyero doesn't really stumble. he aims his next step and his heel only hits the wooden deck of the ship a moment after he'd expected it to. the swaying of the waves is incredibly difficult to get used to— he likes to avoid seafaring if he can, still remembers how he'd felt like a trapped animal when corsair greymon thought it apt to attack their party while they were both travelling by boat.

dreadful affair. he's trying very hard not to let it colour this showcasing of balduran's beloved wandering eye.

the tiefling catches balduran's shoulder in his misstep and promptly decides to stay there, hands wrapping around his guardian's broad arm. a brief bout of vertigo overcomes him. he feels his anxiety latch onto balduran's mind the very same way his touch does.

' apologies, ' he says immediately. ' i swear to you, i would not have come if i was not excited about this. i lack your skills for this trade. '

All he really needed was some peace and quiet, especially with a setting sun.

He typically doesn't gravitate towards local parks when he needs it, instead choosing to find a forest, or some kind of wilderness where he could just be alone with some Pokemon and call it a day. But this isn't Unova- this isn't home, and he isn't sure where to go should he get lost. So a park will do for now, until he gets a better use of his surroundings.

N sits at the top of a hill, his knees up to his chest as he stares up at the sun-kissed sky. It's a beautiful sight, one that he always loves to bask in whenever he gets the chance.

It's only when he hears the faint sounds of footsteps behind him does N perk up. He looks over his shoulders, the brim of his hat shadowing his eyes, and finds himself staring at a man he had never quite seen before.

"Ah..."

The voice that comes out of his current body is small, even borderline squeaky. Still Aurelius stands tall even as a plushie, looking up at the figure standing so, so far above him.

"That isn't yours. Shouldn't you give it back?"

He is, of course, referring to his extra plushie self in the other's hands.

"L'Oreal is like, so overrated."

"Just because they do a cool commercial once doesn't mean they're best for hair. Do you know they use silicones in their shampoo? Listen."

She runs a hand through her own spotlessly sparkling locks, just for show.

"Pantene Sleek & Shine has a formula that's silicone-free! So if you wanna go all oolala-I-can't-believe-he's-not-Fabio to your smooch-partner, buy that instead!"

Following up the invitation from last time, Cecil finds Balduran at—where else?—the beach where they first met, a box of chocolates in tow. His other hand dangles his shoes, which he rests on a rock before turning to welcome the man who'd arrived earlier than he did at their meeting spot.

❛ You are early, ❜ Cecil observes pleasantly. ❛ even though I am the one bringing the bonbons. ❜

❛ Are you so eager for our taste test? But I am the same, yes? ❜

He treads barefoot over the sand until he stops before the other, and presents the lovely box in his hands for his dashing hero to take his pick.

He's glad he gets to have the pleasure of watching the sun rise as it does not harm him. Though he was a creature of the night, even someone like him can appreciate the beauty that the day brings. It was thrilling to take the life of someone when the sun was up.

Speaking of which,

you're not sure why you're roaming.

it is not like yourself— to wander aimlessly is to exist without purpose, and you've always had a purpose. you tell yourself it's because you're looking for clues. any way at all to return to where you came from, even if that place shouldn't be home.

(khorvaire is not home, you think.)

you find yourself at a bustling marketplace, and if you paid the gathering of people there any mind, it would be overwhelming. as you are, you move through without so much as a twitch in your expression. people avoid you because of the virtue of being the rock in the surf, and that serves you well.

you pass along until you see a person similar to yourself. not an aasimar, but a man clad in armour. tall, though not imposing, with the smile on his face as he converses with somebody else.