#fllameshield

Sleipnir is unsure as to why they're suddenly so nervous. Perhaps it is because they know nothing about the world outside of Midgard. What they know of Waloed is...very little, but that shouldn't be a surprise considering how isolated it is from the rest of the world. Leaving feels miraculous, like a sudden weight has been lifted from their shoulders. While the loss of Sephiroth still stings, grief not being something they're used to, they still manage to press on, despite it.

The swaying of the boat, however, makes them feel less than ideal, and so they've spent most of the journey clinging to Barnabas. Right now, they lay in bed with him, their head resting on his chest. They don't know what to expect once they reach their destination, but it's still exciting.

@fllameshield sent [Sleipnir to Clive] "What this? You’re shaking? How pathetic." 

Blue eyes narrow at the other. Is he shaking? He hadn't noticed. He doesn't know if it's from fear considering how injured he already is or anger. He refuses to believe he is scared of this asshole.

It's no surprise he'd want to torture him, though, considering how much attention Barnabas has been giving him lately.

Heartbeat Memes || Always Accepting. @fllameshield || Barnabas

What an odd thing for Sleipnir to say - or, even more so, for him to be concerned about. Barnabas long ago created the man with a beating heart for numerous reasons - mostly to fulfill his own selfish needs more than anything else.

So he knows better than anyone what Sleipnir's heart sounds and feels like. He took life from his own existence, so the rhythm is written in his soul right alongside his own sluggish heartbeat. He can feel it even now, beating at a strong and steady pace like a second heart within his own chest.

After several years in the Imperial Army and the abuse he suffered there, it wasn't enough for his mother. She had decided she wanted to wipe herself of him completely.

That is how he ended up here, shoved in this arrangement that Clive wanted nothing to do with. A marriage? To a King? It seemed too good to be true, it's suspicious, and Clive knows his mother. He knows she would not send him to a kind and just King so the moment he lands eyes on Barnabas he is on edge.

It is just the two of them right now in the throne room. If Barnabas is expecting a bow or a title from Clive, he will not get it. Instead, he will be met with Clive staying put a few feet from Barnabas and anger in blue eyes.

He's not sure if he rather be shoved back in the army or not. He doesn't trust Barnabas not to hurt him in some way, especially with the way Clive wants nothing to do with him. He does not want to play the part of happy husband or be intimate with Barnabas in any way.

"S-Stay away from me." Clive finds himself saying in a snarl. Shaky but a snarl nonetheless. He's guarded, arms coming to wrap around his middle. They had taken his sword - something he feels incredibly vulnerable without. He wants it back but he has no idea where it had gone.

@fllameshield sent [Clive to Jill] ❛   patch .   help  my  muse  patch  up  a  wound .

He's always getting hurt, isn't he? Always rushing to the rescue, trying to protect, trying to protect her. She can handle herself, they both know this, and yet he had foolishly rushed in to protect her.

It both warms her heart and saddens her. Does he realize how much she loves him? Does he realize how much the people in the hideaway love him?

She's well aware her fingers are cold and she hopes it doesn't bother him as she cleans the blood from the wound, quiet as she works away at it. Usually, this would be done by Tarja, but they're nowhere near the Hideaway right now.

"I can protect myself, Clive. There's no need for you to get injured because of me." Soft spoken words as her gaze remains on the wound, moving on from cleaning it to bandaging it. She doesn't want him to see how much it hurts to watch him throw himself so recklessly into danger.

Cult classics || Accepting

“Hmm, and why not? I was simply waiting for your arrival, oh glorious Archduke of Rosaria. Is it not normal for kings to send their envoys ahead of time?” Sleipnir tilts their head, a playful smirk appearing on their face as they regard Joshua. They simply can't help themself. How they love to watch people squirm, regardless of status. Sighing, they sit up a little, absently tapping their fingers against the arm of the chair they sit in.

“Besides, what if I told you that His Majesty is…indisposed? He wasn't feeling very well today, and he trusts me in all matters. Whatever you have to say to him, you can say it to me. We are like, ahh..how do you say it…two halves of one person? You can trust me.” They bow their head, placing their hand on their chest. “We are here to negotiate peace, no? So how can we have peace if there is no trust?”

Mythras had thought his presence had been detected well in advance, he hadn't gone out of his way to hide himself or anything and yet the other man was abruptly so hostile.

The flame that appeared in Joshua's hand had Mythras's expression lighting up, eyes widening minutely in awe at the sight of it. "I-I promise I mean no harm..!" He stammered quickly which was followed by a sheepish chuckle. Mythras had made sure that his appearance blended rather seamlessly in with the populace of this planet, so it wasn't possible that Joshua could tell he wasn't from here.

At least Mythras hoped he couldn't tell.

"I..am a bit lost though.." He added quietly.

Sleipnir cackles as they're slammed into the ground, blood pouring out of their mouth. Oh, this is all very funny, isn't it? And exactly what they wanted. They grin up at him with bloodstained teeth, their eyes narrowed in amusement, even as Clive's foot lands square in their chest, preventing them from going anywhere.

"Oh..oh, Mythos, look at you..so angry, for what?" Sleipnir asks, coughing up another glob of blood and spitting it out. Their body will repair itself in no time, but until then, they're stuck like this. "Are you afraid? Hm? You could finish the job right here. Run me through all you like...but I wonder...you're afraid that you might like it, that you might like the power that comes with it. Is that right?"

They're just taunting him now, taking in a deep breath as they feel the wound on their stomach stitch itself up. "Too bad, my darling Mythos. You should've taken the chance while you had it." With that, they grab his leg and push him off, slowly pulling themself up off the ground. "Now...where we we?"