logs | {suddenly, you lose your way and lose the thread.

Entry tags:

{suddenly, you lose your way and lose the thread.

WHO: Aspen, various
WHERE: Shadowlands, Stygia, and more
WHEN: December
WHAT: Catch-all log (event + general)
WARNINGS: Refer to Aspen's blanket warnings to be safe. Includes nonsexual descriptions of nudity (nude model thread.)

→ harbor

( in this white-out winter, a slender figure steps through the snow with dogged determination. aspen acts like the wind doesn't really bother him, and in a sense, it doesn't - these winters are not unlike the ones he's witnessed in petir. he's missed them - in a sense that he hasn't seen snow for almost two years. he's been so used to rains that he almost forgot that most places got snow instead of flooding. while most seem to be bundled up and bustling, aspen enjoys the snowflakes dancing in the air and some that stick to his cheeks and lashes. that, however, doesn't mean he doesn't take notice when some people are freezing their tails off.

as he unlocks the side entrance to his still-remodeling shop, he calls - )

If you're cold, you can come in here for a reprieve.

( aspen's expression isn't as cheery as it usually is - even as he rustles and flaps his wings to knock the frost off of his feathers, there's something heavy hanging in the air about him. he pushes his braid out of his coat so it falls over his shoulder like usual, setting down the coat that he'd kept over his clothes. he's traded in pastels for darker blues and blacks, and he heads to the stone counter - opening the side gate so he stands behind the counter and starts taking care of the plants and walls of powders, tonics, and salves he has stashed away. )

What are you doing out here, if I may ask? You're not going to cross the sea, are you? If you get knocked off the ship, who knows if you'll freeze or not at this point - ghk...

( he covers his mouth as he coughs up a few flower petals, his sigh melding with an exhausted wheeze. he shakes his head with disappointment. )

Apologies.

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( he always attempts to be courteous in town - aspen's wings are flexed closed and close to his body, usually. they curve just above his head at the tallest, so perhaps it's not so much a surprise that his wings are truly bigger than what one would think. maybe this is where all his height went. he stretches them alongside an arch of his back and then resettles, with his wing carefully curled around claude in turn.

he was not joking about the warmth trapped in between his feathers. there's so much down here that yes, he might as well be wandering around with two mega size pillows. )

That's right. ( he glances at claude sidelong with a grim expression. ) I'm a powerful flier, thanks to the size of my wings - and even I would have trouble navigating the storms over these waters. I'd just be knocked off course and freeze in the water. Flying over Stygia is no problem, but...

[ Claude takes a moment to observe the grace and span of Aspen's wings as one closes in around him. He has, of course, never seen anything like Aspen while alive. It had been revelation enough that Rhea could transform into a dragon, and then there was Shez and the other shapeshifters, but there was nothing in both Fodlan or Almyra where the features of humans and other creatures were mixed to create one form.

The only comparison he has is the famous painting of Seiros and the twenty-one crests. He wonders if Aspen would be considered some kind of holy being in Fodlan.

Or hunted. He honestly has no faith in the Church. ]

That makes sense.

[ He tears himself from his musing to reply, relaxing as he feels himself warm for the first time in far too long. ]

It's why I didn't bother making the trip on wyvernback, the storm really isn't anything to be trifled with.

Wyvernback...?

( he looks to claude with some shock, bewilderment clear by the slight furrow of his brows. )

Sorry - dragons? Dragons exist where you're from?

[ Well. ]

Yes, though their existence has been hidden for millennia. Wyverns are far more common, though.

... are wyverns not dragons?

( now this has him confused. )

I wouldn't know - they're just a story in my world. Well, mostly.

[ He rubs his chin. ]

I suppose they look similar, though dragons are usually the size of a building. They also have four legs and wyverns only have two. Frankly, they might be related— I only discovered dragons exist a couple of months ago.

Also, it appears that dragons in my world also have human forms. Wyverns certainly don't.

( aspen sputters, pulling slightly at claude's arm. )

Dragons can turn into humans?!

... that's unfair. ( his wings slump - his entire body seems to wilt. ) They can just... walk about unseen, unbothered...?

[ Ah. ]

Yes, that seems to be the case. I don't think anyone had any inkling that our archbishop was a dragon. One several thousands of years old at that.

[ He thinks back to their first conversation on Soulidarity. ]

I suppose it's not as easy for you, with your wings.

( an archbishop. thousands of years old. and no one suspected a thing. aspen purses his lips and slowly draws back, letting go of claude. he doesn't move away - claude is the messenger, he's not at fault here, and he won't deprive him of warmth as the waves of the Tempest grow choppier and the air more frigid.

but it hurts. )

I'm proud of my wings. ( it's an earnest admission, made in a soft, small voice - if they weren't so close, maybe claude wouldn't have heard it. ) ... but my world is not as open-minded as they are here, and that pride comes at a cost.

I apologize for my behavior. I wasn't thinking.

[ Claude isn't sure what Aspen has to apologize for—his bitterness or envy or whatever hurt he might be feeling is understandable. He's not unaware of his own privilege over the likes of Cyril, Dedue and Petra. He's hiding in plain sight too, not brave enough to wear his identity openly.

He sets a hand on Aspen's knee, squeezing gently. ]

There's no need to apologize. I'm glad that your world hasn't beaten your pride out of you. You certainly deserve better.

[ He glances up at the wing around him. ]

I know it doesn't compare to an entire society's worth of prejudice, but I think your wings are quite beautiful.

( he chuckles. )

Thank you. Me... and my people, we deserve better than what we were given. I wish I could do something for them besides just act as a healer and a soul-soother.

My people have superstitions regarding the color of wings, you know? White is supposed to mean that you're meant to be a tactician. ( after a moment, he scrunches his nose. ) I don't know if you realized it, when we switched bodies... but I can't read very well. The letters and numbers all seem to move and warp. I don't know how much stock to put in that - tacticians should be able to read, I think.

Are there any superstitions where you come from?

[ That makes him smile, always curious about different places far and wide. He'd thought the world was big before, but now... ]

You can read with more than just your eyes. I'm sure you could pull it off if you wanted to.

[ But being a tactician is rather exhausting. He's not sure that he'd recommend it. ]

We had a couple silly ones... I remember one that said if you dropped your food, it was the earth trying to reclaim what she gave you, though I think that was just parents trying to keep their children from eating off the floor. [ The memory makes him snort. ] Another that said if you had a child born on the same day as the wyvern's first flight that the child would be particularly virile.

( aspen laughs brightly. )

I'm quite sure some chocolate will benefit me more than the earth. It sounds as if wyverns are common in your world if that's the sort of superstitions that are about.

I wonder which one of us is faster.

You're free to race my girl around the city when we get back.

[ Though he'd have to coax her outside. Wyverns don't particularly relish the cold, and he knows she's been enjoying curling up inside with blankets as of late, only heading out to hunt.

Still, it's an amusing thought, and one he looks forward to for when they return.

He tucks it away as they draw closer to the shores of the Shadowlands, the same grim mood from earlier returning; a sense of unease and a sharp pain in his head. ]

We'll be arriving soon.

( the slight cheer offered to them by the lighter topics ebbs. aspen grimaces a little, staring uncertainly at the shores of the shadowlands. he doesn't like this. he doesn't want to have to go back to his home, but the thought of not checking on his tethers also makes his insides seize up with ice. )

... I think I prefer being here for collecting roots and the stray grass than this. It feels far too foreboding for this time of year.

( but aspen's tension does noticeably ebb once they hit land, and he's the first one off and shaking out his skirts. bleh boats. hate them. hate ocean.

5* trip though. )

[ The chill returns when Claude loses the blanket of Aspen's wings around him, but he pushes it away for... all the other discomfort. He hates coming back to this place, and he knows that whatever awaits likely isn't any good.

He catches up to Aspen by the time he's wrung himself out. ]

... I agree. The thought that something could get past our doors is terrifying. I've been feeling it too.

[ It feels wrong not to share that now. He should let Aspen know that he's not alone in this at least. ]

( aspen looks at claude sidelong, empathetic. )

I'm sorry it's a feeling you share in. I would not wish it on anyone. I thought someone had to be explicitly invited into our homes for them to even enter. ( petulant - ) Either someone's lying or this thing is more powerful than expected. I don't know which I despise more.

Perhaps we're the idiots, for believing that it was true that nothing could enter our rooms without permission.

[ It's unlike Claude to be so blindly believing, but... ]

It just seemed true. Those reapers certainly left us alone.

( right. the reapers. aspen shoots a wary glance to the deserted field, full of doors. he sucks in a sharp breath, then looks to claude. )

How battle-ready are you? If you... would need help... ( he starts, cautious but wanting to give support. )

I'd rather avoid a fight if I can. [ Mostly because he already feels like shit, and doesn't want to make it worse.

But he gestures to the bow and quiver on his back. They're handmade and certainly not as powerful as his arsenal while alive, but sufficient. ]

But if need be, I can probably hold off a beast if we end up in dire circumstances.

( he nods, seeming distant for a few moments. he looks out at the terrain one more time before he turns sharply to claude, rifling through his leather satchel. out come three spheres, wrapped in cheesecloth. he offers them to claude. )

I don't know if these really have an effect on the beasts and Reapers of this place, but they should at least act as a distraction to divert their attention while we move. Upon contact and breakage, they explode into a cloud of dust and powder that will obfuscate eyesight.

How very clever.

[ Impressed, he takes the offered orbs, pocketing them away and glancing across the space around them again.

There doesn't seem to be imminent danger yet, but there's no underestimating the reapers. ]

Have you kept any for yourself?

( 'clever' is a compliment that makes aspen's face flush as prettily as a "beautiful" would for a shy maiden. it even reaches his ears. )

Yes, I have my own. They're my experiments, so I'm afraid I can't let you try them. I'm still not sure they'll work as I expect.

( he sets off first, tipping his chin up and gripping his staff tightly. )

[ The blush makes Claude smile slightly, as if they weren't in a barren wasteland about to confront a deep violation of their safety. It's important to take a moment to appreciate the small pleasures of life.

Ultimately, he just nods, accepting Aspen's explanation. ]

I'll just trust that you've done your work, then.

[ He turns back toward the field of doors, a sudden pang of anxiety striking him. ]

Hopefully we'll get there without incident.

Here's hoping.

( when aspen sets off, it's at a brisk pace - he keeps an eye out for any moving figures, and the most he tends to see are other restless rather than reapers. he's at least thankful for that. )

Where is yours? Mine is nearby.

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