Two Birds, One Birdhouse

There’s a certain nostalgia shared between those old enough to remember the days when Ishgard’s summers were not so miserable;  those days when the morning air was crisp and the noon bells warm, the evenings a gentle coolness that gave way to warm moments around a hearth or outdoor fire.

Those are days Zephirin misses. 

Tonight he finds himself curled up on the ornate sofa of his chambers, a beautiful piece of Ward white and blue with cushions as soft as a feather-stuffed pillow. He’d stretch across the entire sofa if he could, if it were not for his companions occupying the remaining cushion. 

“Mrrrowwrr…” Vaindreau yawning. The tabby stretches out on their guest’s lap, a woman with untamed raven hair that simply smiles and pets the cat again. Svanielle… how gentle she could be when it came to animals ( and people, when she liked them ). She was by no means a weak woman nor a simple maiden and best above all she was no excitable fangirl who fainted when he so much as spoke a greeting.

Eyes fluttered open again as he turned slightly to get a better look at her, an unconscious and natural smile following. Their eyes met, a small conversation shared in a glance. He was in no rush to get up having finished his work for the day and she had no place to be for a few more bells. Both knew well enough she could not be seen staying past Vault curfew: rumors could be nasty things as they were without feeding them.

Not that he would go against his sacred vows, nor would he ever drag her into such scandal. This was something that also went unspoken, words for such not needed between them. Instead the tired Archimandrite lifted his arm from his side slowly and reached out, closing his eyes once more as her smaller, softer hand came to rest in his.

Perhaps days like these, evenings spent indoors to escape the cold… perhaps these were not so bad after all.

A full three suns had come and gone and in that time Noudenet had stubbornly kept himself mostly awake through willpower alone. It was not until sometime on the third day that he noticed that Mono had wandered off, and for a panicked moment he stopped to think of when he had last fed the deepeye. Had he been neglecting them? How long had he been attempting (and failing) to progress on this project anyway? He recalled getting up a few times to eat or use the facilities but...

...ah, it truly had been a while. Perhaps spite was not the best motivator to pour himself into his studies (studies of which almost nothing had gotten done, now that he’d thought of it) and the knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach was eating away at him. This wasn’t like him, to lose focus. He had to go resolve this and pick up Mono in the process. Begrudgingly he moved from his seat, nudged Dio awake and gathered his staff. There was only one place the deepeye chick would have gone to and as loathe as he was to go there what choice did he have?

Not even a full bell later did he find himself standing in front of her house, nerves suddenly far worse than before. How did he approach this situation? Interpersonal issues were not his forte and furthermore, he had no idea what was truly bothering him.

send me your muse’s first name and I’ll tell you aesthetics I associate with that name!!

If The Fury truly did have mercy for those who bloodied their hands, then he must have certainly survived as well…the one she sought who had taken her life once. Ironically, not this one.

Lavender eyes were void of the curious warmth she once possessed. Though prior to realizing this man was none other than Charibert, there was a flicker of shock across her features which quickly subsided when she recognized that crafty expression. Of all of the people she would end up meeting under these circumstances, it had to him.

“In another life. I’d say this is far from cordial…”

She spoke plainly as she regarded the man’s dark attire, vastly different from those white robes. Finally shed that shell and dropped the holy act altogether. He was now certainty a man one would not wish to encounter alone.

But she was not afraid. She has already seen death once.

Not even an ounce of fear in her tone. A little surprising, perhaps, but not overly so. His memories of those last days were quite muddled : the closer to the events of the Singularity Reactor the hazier they were and the assassin held no recollection of the icy woman’s death.

A hand fell to his hips and he shrugged with his other shoulder, head tilted to the side. His pale eye watched her with curiousity, took careful note of how even her smallest of mannerisms seemed to change. He was intrigued and he would get some answers whether Scan liked it or not.

Send me ⊙ and my muse will bold all that applies to yours

@lavendernest  

Nalin thinks Tonton is:

| Admirable | Attractive | Absentminded | Amusing | Abrasive | Aloof | Arrogant | Brilliant | Bizarre | Bland | Caring | Charming | Clever | Confident | Courageous | Creative | Cute | Careless | Childish | Clumsy | Cowardly | Cruel | Dignified | Dramatic | Desperate | Devious | Disrespectful | Elegant | Energetic | Emotional | Excitable | Faithful | Forgiving | Friendly | Flamboyant | Foolish | Frightening | Generous | Gloomy | Greedy | Gullible | Helpful | Honest | Hateful | Intelligent | Ignorant | Impulsive | Insensitive | Irresponsible | Lovable | Lazy | Mature | Malicious | Misguided | Monstrous | Narrow-minded | Optimistic | Obnoxious | Peaceful | Persuasive | Protective | Power-hungry | Quirky | Reliable | Romantic | Ridiculous | Sexy | Sophisticated | Selfish | Trusting | Treacherous | Understanding | Unpredictable | Unstable | Vulnerable | Witty | Weak |

“Everyone is afraid or nervous around him, and rightfully so. He is a tonberry after all.

But. I’m not afraid of him.

—— [VII] ——

             “… Halone have mercy…” oh, he knew that tapping and violent gaze quite well, as the Elezen would look over to the window with such a despondent gaze, empty of fear. No… He will not gift Ink that.

He knew for certain he was here for blood. Nothing Ink does is brought upon out of benevolence. He was hatred incarnate: and Halone knows how much of a shite he is.