#dreamknighted

It’s an unusual feeling, waking up. Something he’s done countless times over the years is suddenly so different; so out of place. Maybe it’s the atmosphere, as he opens his eyes to a room utterly unlike any he’d ever been in before. It was a lot nicer than where he’d fallen asleep last night, that much was certain, but how he arrived here was anyone’s guess. Did someone else bring him here? But who could have done it, and... where was here, anyway?

The other thing he notes, besides the unfamiliar room, is the inexplicable sense of emptiness he feels in his chest as he sits up. It’s faint, but he knows the feeling of loss all too well to mistake it for anything but. Thinking it just a symptom of another bad dream he can’t recall, Ashe pushes it out of mind, climbing from the bed he’d been placed in and giving the room another cursory glance. Definitely not his, and highly unlikely to even be anywhere in the monastery. He can’t help but feel a slight, lingering dread at the knowledge he’s been spirited away to some unknown location.

It looks more like a home than a prison, however, so whoever brought him here surely can’t want to hurt him, right? He tries to hold on to that hope as he quietly crosses to the door, opening it just a crack as slowly as he can to survey the scene. What he sees is even less what he expected than he’d imagined, somehow.

It’s a perfectly ordinary home, though “ordinary” by a standard he’s having a hard time setting, given how differently the furniture and decor look from the homes he’s used to. Perhaps most important, however, is that he sees someone he knows milling about in the adjacent room.

“Felix...?”

most of the stores lining the streets are unimpressive, but the gleam of something through a window finally catches his eye. as he approaches it, he realizes it’s some sort of figure sitting in -- what he presumes to be -- an old fashioned antique store. glancing up, he spots the name of it. ‘spoiled rotten.’ funny, it was the only place he’d seen so far that lacked a sea related name.

he doesn’t know what makes him go inside. boredom, most likely. antique stores weren’t usually his top choice for hangouts -- but they did make for excellent places to nab a cool item from that he couldn’t find elsewhere. he’s pretty confident in his ability to steal. he’s no master thief, but he can usually get away with it. at least, he thinks so, until he notices someone looking at him as he pockets a tiny figurine sitting on a shelf. he isn’t sure he’s actually seen what he’s done, only that he’s looking his way, but he’s pretty sure he noticed. he isn’t too worried either way, even smiles at the man as he attempts to play it off.

❝ .. see something interesting, friend? ❞

Of course, Quinn! Reserved for you.

          how many has she struck down at this point? she’s lost count. the idea of legitimate combat with other human beings, rather than creatures of grimm, is not one that weiss likes to explore. especially after her recent ( as far as she knows, if this world hasn’t messed with her sense of time ) encounters, she would prefer to avoid it altogether. but the lowly goons that attack with little to no hesitation leave her no choice. if only they’d listen, but it seems reason is not within their grasp. this new island is full of mysteries, starting with it’s residents. she’s becoming rather fed up and hasn’t discovered anything out here, deciding it’s for the best that she head back. or, at the very least, try to find somewhere safe to rest for a bit. unfortunately, the way back is littered with ... whatever the ravenous villagers would be called. 

hearing yet another fool charging her way, weiss turns with myrtenaster raised, ready to fend herself once more. however, much to her surprise, the opponent runs past her in a hasty retreat. brows pinch together as she  gazes after the reason ; a man, adorned with the makings of a fighter. her shoulders relax slightly, given the fact that the hostile had been running from him, but she doesn’t relax her grip on her rapier. 

         well, at least until a shadow hovers over her. it takes her a few seconds to even notice; and when she does, she looks up to meet the other’s gaze, a sheepish grin hesitantly appearing.

shitty horoscopes, part one

“I’m NOT--,” he starts, words and eyes both unusually sharp for someone as typically soft-spoken as Ashe, but he cuts himself off just as sharply.

He stares at Felix for a long moment, the expression on his face twisted and unreadable. Without even looking at himself he knows what a sight he must be, eyes red and chest heaving, standing in the doorway like some wild creature that broke into the apartment in the dead of night. Is he angry, or is he sad? Even Ashe can’t be sure. Both emotions clash in that space between his ribs, and he clenches his fists tight against the sensation of it all.

“...Ugh. Shut up, Felix,” is all he finally manages after such silence, though the rebuke is too soft to be genuine. He’s not directly mad at Felix, though he is ashamed at being seen in such disarray by him. If he thought it would do him any good he’d just crawl back to his room, shut the door, and retreat to bed until daybreak, but lying in the dark alone when he already feels this horrible only makes the pit in his stomach sink further.

Ashe uncurls his clenched hands, bringing one up to inelegantly rub the tears from his eyes with the heel of it. Of all the Blue Lions he’d be least okay with being caught crying, Felix ranks at a solid #3 on the list, but at least it’s taken the fight out of him pretty quickly. No point in pretending it didn’t happen.

“Huh?”

After all the different personalities she met at the Academy, one would think she’d be used to whatever came her way. Not quite, it seems. After all, this situation’s unique in its own way. People from across time and space apparently are here. How does one react to that? She’s a little more used to it than a girl should be, in any case.

Ashe is, admittedly, rather spaced out as he stands in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a distinct lack of focus. He’s supposed to be doing something, that’s why he came in here, but… his mind is elsewhere, as is his motivation.

As nice as it’s been here, adjusting hasn’t been the easiest feat in the world. The city is still strange to him, and his reason for having been taken remains elusive. Not a day goes by where he doesn’t wonder- doesn’t worry -after the friends that have been left behind. He hopes more than anything that they’re okay; that he can see them again sooner rather than later. That nobody is particularly worried or upset by his absence.

( The small voice deep in the back of his mind insisting nobody would worry for him chimes, then falls silent. )

Lost in his thoughts as he is, he doesn’t hear Felix enter, nor take particular note of his presence until the swordsman is at his side, leaning into him. It’s startling for the briefest of moments, then incredibly comforting. Ashe doesn’t know if Felix is doing this for his own sake or not, and he isn’t going to ask. This can’t be easy on him, either, even if he isn’t the type to voice his worries aloud like that. Ashe can see it in him, whether he wants him to or not.

He entertains a thought, just for a moment, of putting his arms around Felix. He knows better than to follow through on the impulse, but warmth of the body against his only makes him acutely aware of just how long it’s been since he’d received any sort of physical affection beyond the occasional pat on the back or shoulder. He feels a bit like a child for wanting it, but he has a sudden need to feel someone’s arms around him, and he aches slightly for the lack of it.