#sciocryptique

Che’nya was, once again, wandering.

There were simply so many places to wonder in this world, after all. And if he was going to be here a while, then he might as well explore, or so he’d decided. His ears twitched as he took in sounds around him, and every so often he spun on his heels to get a good look all around, his hands rested behind his head.

At some point, the wandering stopped, and the wondering began. 

                                          ... but that would hardly be fair to urianger, would it?

          what relief he saw sprawl across his features that day was unmistakable the moment he asked to set it aside for then, that he might be able to find another excuse to evade such talks. even now he feels uncomfortably tender to the thought of it, shying away from it all, were it not for his deeper fear of once again hurting urianger in how he acts. there was only so long he could continue to conceal the gaping hole that only grows wider each encounter, one which even elidibus managed to tear ‘til it poured naught but searing pain without relent---he knows this far too well now. so, he sits there with his gaze cast to the sunset beyond the window, waiting for his boyfriend to enter the room, before he speaks without hesitation. gods know were he to now, he might never be able to bring himself to later unless cornered.

          ❝ Oi, Urianger. Tell me somethin’. ❞ what words he has are softer, almost as if he wonders if he should say them at all, with how his heart wrings itself at the mere thought alone. ❝ You think a smile better suits a hero... ? ❞

The mention of a series of bazaars selling items from all different worlds had certainly piqued Shulk’s interest. If he couldn’t travel to different worlds, than surely studying materials brought from them would be the next best thing. He had also heard rumors of people finding items from their own worlds, even personal effects sometimes, and he would be lying if he said it wouldn’t be nice to have a memento from home. While he had intended to travel, he never thought he would have to do so alone. His new friends were nice, but his old ones were like family and it would be hard to accept this new world as a home without them.

Wandering the through the different vendors was certainly fascinating enough to keep him busy for a few hours. The objects on display were as varied and interesting as the inhabitants of the city themselves and it reminded Shulk that his world was just one of infinite. While he itched to buy many of the strange items to study more closely, he had only just started making money in earnest and thought it would be best if he saved it until he could find the vendor selling items from his world. If he could even find such a vendor.

Looking over the pieces on the table in front of him, he noticed a man next to him also inspecting the shopkeep’s wares. Shulk couldn’t really be sure what made him talk to the stranger... Maybe it was their appearance. Gold eyes and silver hair brought back semi-conscious memories of someone else he had known who was benevolent and world-wise...

“So, are these items from your world? I always knew, in theory, that the people of this city came from hundreds of different worlds, but to see that displayed in the sheer volume and variety of all the different objects here is something else. It really puts things in perspective.”

“Urianger–”

Her tone is marked with obvious relief at a familiar countenance, assured that the elezen would have a better idea of present circumstances than she'd begun to fathom after her sudden arrival. The fact he decidedly should not be here could be left for another time, and perhaps a lot of specialised terms that she'd always had trouble getting to grips with– surely, there'd be answers.

For now, though, the miqo'te found her head canting as she finally took in the whole picture– something quite decidedly off in his attire, A smile almost played on her lips in spite of the circumstances.

Archimedes felt more akin to the Mist in Limsa Lominsa, he notices. A sense of familiarity putting him at ease. He takes the trolley all the way to the Theatre of Calliope for his first stop, clutching his island pamphlet like a lifeline for information. It was the area bustling with artistes honing their craft and performing to a live audience. In truth, he was particularly interested in seeing some performances first-hand, hoping to gain a little more insight. 

As he weaved himself through the crowd, he spots a particularly tall figure sticking out like a sore thumb. He could have mistaken the older man for one of the performers if he did not move closer. The Sharlayan vigil on his cheek was enough for him to recognise who it is.

“Urianger!” He jogs right up to him, damn near hugging him from seeing him. “You’re here too!”

there... really isn’t any particular reason that alisaie decided to wander into this little shop. maybe as a joke? well, most of her friends did seem to be the type to gallivant around antique shops looking at useless artifacts that mattered eons ago. the starlight celebration is coming up, and in case she does run into one of her allies it’d be good to have a present prepared.

“ urianger, ” she starts while making her way over to him, “ thou hast been absent in mine presenceth for too long. ” alisaie finds herself trying so hard to tease his ridiculous speech she twists and raspberries her own tongue. her voice fell deep for a moment when attempting such, and she clears her throat before crossing her arms.

          ❝ Hey. I’m giving ‘til ten lest you wish I slay this door like a primal. ❞ teasing, more or less, though his tone sounds oddly in earnest to see if it might coax the elusive scion out, let alone to decipher if he really wasn’t in. ❝ One... two... ❞

          and just as swiftly as they left, the faces of those who looked on him as nothing but a stranger come flooding back. already his hand releases and retracts itself, pausing as the realization begins to settle.

          ❝ ... let me guess. You don’t recognize me either, aye? ❞ arms cross over his chest, redirecting his gaze in an almost makeshift brace of confirmation of it all. were one to know him well, it was all too obvious it was akin to his own brand of sulking---one meant to cover up any sign of weakness than anything else.