#calidsaint

||  █ ▌— kieran’s eyes are drawn up--and then up some more. he knows his stature is far from impressive, but craning his neck like this is unusual and he envies those of his fellows that have wings with which to flutter a little ways off the ground. they would have no problem looking this man in the eye. kieran, however, simply looks up.

and anyway, the man’s height isn’t the interesting bit. it’s the eyes. kieran’s own gold eyes narrow slightly. these aren’t the eyes of summer, or he doesn’t think they are. he knows summer well enough, now that it runs sticky through his veins. it’s something new and exciting.

Crossing her arms with a rather obvious pout on her face, Elodie stares up at the castle with apprehension. She wasn’t scared of such a place -- but after her earlier outburst at her ‘audience’ with this kingdom’s princess, she felt like she must be on a blacklist of some sort. Still, if she could apologise for her rudeness and explain her situation, in a diplomatic way, as she had been taught -- then maybe the crown would take her into consideration. If the princess’s words were to believed, her presence here was an accident...

She sighs. She supposes she was free to do almost whatever she pleased, but not being treated politically, with no rules -- it was completely unfamiliar. Usually she would enjoy it, but...

                                                                    +1 Depressed

  Well, the kissing booth was enough of a success to pay for lunch, and it’s with a bittersweet combination of pride and disappointment that Wade heads to the local Denny’s. It’s decent enough, he orders a coffee after his waitress tells him they don’t make fraappuccinos there, nor do they serve mountain dew, and a sandwich to go because as cute as the 50′s diner aesthetic is, it’s no T*co B*ll. And so he’s holding his coffee and sandwich, making his way down the street back to his kissing booth when he notices a small ruckus.

  Some punk kids have vandalized the thing, and changed the sign to say “KILLING BOOTH” and splattered (what he hopes is) red paint all over it. It’s with an incredibly large and loud gasp that his coffee falls to the ground. Not the sandwich though, a man’s gotta eat, after all. “This is awful! How could they do this?!” He’s all but screaming, and everyone nearby is staring as they continue walking. “I charge way more than 50 cents to kill someone!! This can’t stand.”

...Well, actually, that’s not true. His lab is probably exactly where he remembers it, but seeing as he no longer has access to it as a result of being kidnapped and relocated somewhere completely unknown, it’s currently as good as gone. And that means he has no supplies, no materials, nothing -- which is really not ideal, especially in a kingdom full of interesting foreign technology he’d like to study. (Oh -- and also run by his kidnappers. Having nothing on hand isn’t so great for that situation either.)

However, despite the city’s strangely advanced tech, it seems almost ridiculously obsessed with magic. Or at least, that’s the impression he gets after finding a section of the city that’s positively dedicated to it. There’s an almost offensive amount of stores and such all related to magic, and once Varian’s stumbled upon the cluster of them, there’s so many that it’s almost impossible to stumble back out of it. He eyes the storefronts with open skepticism, steering clear of them as best he can (which is actually pretty hard, considering they’re practically everywhere). One thing does catch his eye, though -- an object that looks to be made of glass, without the telltale magical-looking design flair that everything else here seems to have. From a distance, it looks like something that could, maybe, actually be used, something that isn’t... magic. Or at least, it doesn’t look magical; Varian scoops it up to inspect it, but fumbles it. The object flies out of his hands as though it’s slick and covered in butter. He yelps and makes a dive for it, managing to catch it before it hits the floor, but the move ends with him sprawled awkwardly on the ground, nose right at someone’s feet.

Varian cranes his head back, expression melting into sheepishness, and gives a toothy grin. ❝ Oh, uh-- S-sorry. ❞ He lets out a short, nervous burst of laughter, springing back to his feet, the object clasped safely between his hands as he returns it to its perch. His gaze flicks to the side, embarrassed; there’s a beat of hesitation before he speaks up again. ❝ Hey, umm--... I was wondering -- d’you know if there’s any places in the city that have stuff that isn’t... uh... this? ❞

Thancred’s never been one to stand still.

How many times, now, has he found himself flung through places he never chose to explore? How many times, now, has he ended up lost and alone and so far from his friends? How many times, now, has he had to figure out if he’s coming or going or standing still? Once is already too much, but more than once means he already knows how to keep himself from losing his grip on reality and his sanity and his hopeful drive to get home.

@calidsaint​ asked: [ 📲 • sms ] —— you’ve been on my mind all day today

Texting Starters

TO: The Calid Saint FROM: Miriam Shushkevich

[SMS]: oh you’re cute!!! what the shit

[SMS]: lmao tell me more, though.

Eternal darkness isn’t too unusual for Luka to deal with. Well, maybe a little bit--but he’d also seen Bayonetta basically fight a god like, twice. Still, he’s been roped into helping bring back a Sage of Dark or whatever, and he’s decided that gathering raven feathers or maybe getting blood from a demon aren’t too hard. 

...On second thought, maybe he didn’t want to deal with demons. Angels were worse, but...

Alright, yeah, if he’s doing this, he’s not doing it alone, so he decides to hit up the closest attractive stranger.