#starter for

Cold

Wet and cold. The rain had been falling for three days on the boy as he trudged across empty space, dragging a sword that almost dwarfed him in length. He didn’t understand why the rain was cold, only that it was and that he hated it. 

Cold. Hunger... cold... hurt cold HUNGER!

His stomach was growling. He wanted food, but there was nothing. He couldn’t eat rocks; he’d tried. No animals. Only bright red berries that had made him sick, and that he didn’t go near now.

Cold... tired... Someone.

At the corner of his vision, he saw movement. A body. A living body, moving on it’s own. The boy stopped, his focus solely on the new arrival as the rain continued to fall on his head. The sword was still behind him, half-caked in mud, but his grip tightened just a bit.

Sora slowed to a stop in front of a large Rayquaza statue that stood proudly before a large, modern, geometric-styled building. She sucked in a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, shifted the weight of her bag on her shoulders, and started around it, and towards the large, sliding glass doors leading into the front lobby.

She felt the heated air hit her in the face as she walked through, and she paused for a moment to take a look around. The inside of the building was modern and welcoming, and almost overwhelming in size. 

Nervously, her eyes locked on the front desk, and she walked over towards it.

“Um... hello? I am sorry to interrupt... but I am supposed to meet with Mr. Conley. Is he in?“

The day has been stinking hot. Everyone and their goats had tried to fuck with him: nick an apple or kick at his heifer. But he's still happy, still likes the hustle and the dust. Freya is beside him, ruining some shanty or other with her terrible voice. He grins at her fondly, and tips his head up to the bright sky, crooning out the wild tune, mouth wide and pink as he sails down the scale.

He catches a flash of those curls first. A mane, he thinks, tumbling shamelessly down a sturdy back. They frame a face that seems hewn from some sweet wood. He cocks his head a little, enjoying the sight of him, this intriguing new stranger, as he shifts and leans slightly; arms thick across his torso, a look of private delight flickering over those curious features. Adam glances up, and snorts to see that he’s just fleeced a bastard out of a months worth of sugar.  

      huh -- she looked familiar. as creepy as it was to just sit there and stare with no intention to make himself unnoticed, he was trying to figure out where he’d seen her before. old fling? nah, they all were small town girls and this was the big apple now. 

       squinting one eye, it popped into his head that he possibly might’ve seen her on tv. oh, that was totally it! and with absolutely no stealth, he wandered over to the woman and tilted his head before speaking out. ❝ hey, you were on that trial, right? something about something, something the government something bad... yeah? ❞ he was probably way off...

@beautivile

Since arriving at the Chaldea Organisation, Angelica Ainsworth had learned much about Heroic Spirits as people, and if there was one thing in particular about this time of year, it was that Christmas, was a big deal. Looking to participate as part of her mimicry of Human behaviour Angelica had taken part in the festivities, mostly helping the Staff & Servants decorate the entirely facility, including the enormous Christmas Tree in the Main Hall. 

But there was one other side of the Holiday Traditions that the Ainsworth Doll wished to partake in, and now stood in front of Frankenstein's door to her room holding an aesthetically well-wrapped box she gently rapped on the door, awaiting Berserker to answer.

The streets of Cheydinhal were bright with autumn’s colors, and passers-by flitted to and fro in the afternoon breeze. Amidst the storefronts stood one in particular, its sign naming the building beneath it “Aveneris’ Enchantments & Wonders.” The window displayed many little trinkets- Small blue gems wrapped in fine gold twine, little puzzle boxes in which to store jewelry or other valuables. Earrings that glimmered faintly with what had to be an ever slight enchantment hung on a little rack that slowly spun from the weight on it in order to show all the merchandise on its surfaces. 

Within, a woman quietly entwined gemstones together with gold, in a delicate bracelet. She stood 5′10″- Short, for someone who seemed to be an Altmer, but perhaps she was of mixed blood, given her black hair that hung in tight ringlets gathered behind her head to keep out of her vision. Her eyes were a soft shade of violet, and would look up with each visitor or patron’s entry, offering them a smile and a soft-spoken hello.