(no subject)

[oblivium]

INHUMAN COURTESY

I. PUSHING UP DAISIES

---

cw: depiction of hanahaki, mention of blood, mild body horror

The Frightful Harvest ended on a bloody, eerie note, but the Respite's most welcome interlude has proven exceptionally fruitful. The sky's darkened again, moons struggling to glow through turbulent clouds, but crops all over Stygia have grown dense and healthy, herbs and plants and flowers aplenty. Normally, it'd be a time to rejoice, even as sleet pours and winds grow bitterly cold -- and it might have been, had greens and stems and petals NOT elected to blossom inside you. Your lungs, specifically.

It's an uncommon side effect of the Harvest, affecting those who foster affection or attraction towards another, triggered only by a stray thought. Almost as if punished by Oblivium for harboring any kind of positive feelings. The worst part is that the object of your desire doesn't even have to be in the Netherworld for you to be afflicted. Over the span of three months, you'll gradually experience various degrees of the "harvest's curse", depending on the source of your feelings:

► PHYSICAL/EMOTIONAL ATTRACTION & REQUITED LOVE
It starts with an itch. Your throat tickles, an odd sensation in your lungs, slightly constricted. Allergies? Not quite. It worsens overtime, and days pass by, perhaps weeks. You cough, a little more every day, a little deeper, and then it happens: petals, stuck to your lips as you wheeze and try to empty your chest. Marigold, carnations, daisies, peonies... Thankfully, for you, it's more of an annoyance, sporadic at best and leaving you exhausted at times, but you're in no immediate danger. Unfortunately, not all Restless share the same luck.

► UNREQUITED LOVE
It doesn't matter whether it is truly unrequited; as long as you think it is, whether you're fully convinced or distantly resigned, you get the whole package. It starts the same way the lesser variation does, gradual, and with unsavory (!) additions: lilies and dark red roses. The first slowly spreads its poison in your body, inducing fevers, skin rashes, blistering in your mouth and stomach aches. The second pricks your throat bloody, making speech difficult and breathing even more so. It spreads throughout Stygia, and if most wound up meeting their end in the past, some speak of a highly hypothetical cure. It's believed that if the object of your affection confesses equally strong feelings for you, the curse should rapidly subside. If this option isn't viable, Doran promises that all Healers in Hale are working extremely hard to find a solution. In the meantime, symptoms can be partially soothed with poultices and spells that you can find in the Marketplace or in Serene. Some merchants might even take pity on you and offer them for free.

if your character has heard of similar diseases in their home world, they're absolutely welcome to share their insight on the netherwork or anywhere else
the evolution of the disease can be as gradual, as fast or as severe as you wish it to be
a mini quest to retrieve ingredients for a cure will be available in december or january
by february, all characters should be cured

II. DO NOT PASS GO

---

cw: mention of blood, torture, branding, violence, forced captivity

Full-swing investigations concerning the Harvest's murders have begun, though the mysterious rider has yet to resurface. The day is young still, but no matter; the Hierarchy firmly believes that the creature was summoned by a group of renegades, fully intent on finding and dismembering the organization. Perhaps even literally.

If you've spilled blood not your own in the previous event, the Hierarchy finds you. Do they know? It doesn't really matter; they've targeted you for reasons they won't divulge, persuaded of your involvement -- and off to the Gallows you go. Each of you receives the same greeting when you arrive, held down by rough hands and branded upon the arm with the letter F. The mark signifies ‘forsaken’, and the painful scar is indelible proof that each of you has betrayed the Hierarchy's hospitality. Writhe and scream and glower as much as you want; next thing you know, something heavy hits you across the head, and you collapse.

When your vision slowly creeps back, your eyes adjust to a dimly lit stone cell. Your feet are secured by iron cuffs tethered by one long chain, and you lie in nothing but filthy, tattered rags. It's dark; the air is bloated and filled with agonizing shrieks. Dead vines scrap the walls of half-crumbled buildings, weather-worn stone pillars surrounded by withered clumps of grass. You may converse with your cellmates: the guards patrolling the Gallows couldn't care less, convinced that no one could possibly escape anyway.

► Ironically, a magical barrier around the Gallows prevents magical/spiritual abilities from functioning. However, characters who roam free still can absolutely sneak in! Be careful not to get caught, though!
► Loud disagreements might attract unwanted attention. A single guard will come, and if he finds nothing else amiss, will threaten them to be quiet. A second violation earns the offender a rap on their bare feet with a club. A third violation will cause the offender to be gagged. Note that in order to beat or gag the offender, the guard must first open the cell.
► If you share affinities with Gargoyles, incapacitating a guard in any way will draw the attention of one. It'll show you to the gates where you'll be able to escape, taking care of sentries on your way. You should probably keep a low-profile from then on, and avoid showing-off your brand.
► A secret passage may be found through a mausoleum nearby; an arrow of flaking red paint marks the entrance. Or is it blood? Inside, it's nearly pitch-black. Perhaps, if you're lucky, your vision extends as far as 30 feet in front of you, but occasionally, the darkness is broken by clinging phosphorescent fungi or crawling luminescent creatures, and from out of the silence echo sounds of dripping water. You're underground, and Abysmals can be encountered here if you're too loud. You should also watch out for cave-ins, but as you get farther away from the general region of the Gallows, your magical abilities gradually come back.
► Eventually, a long, broken staircase will lead you to Hale. If you're injured, you'll be sent to the main infirmary; characters with healing abilities or knowledge are super welcome to help!

Luckily for you, there are so many prisoners it's a difficult task for the Hierarchy to always keep track of all of them. Your brand, however, is a dead giveaway, so you might as well try and find a way to get rid of it; you might hear through the grapevines that the dead skin of Badaliscus can be used as bandages, and overtime, the brand will fully heal and disappear.


III. TO THE RESCUE

---

As you attempt to escape, or perhaps once you’ve successfully snuck in, you come across a terrifying spectacle: in front of you, impaled through the shoulder by a spear, a weary humanoid figure covered in blood. The body is being restrained by additional shackles on each arm and leg, which are linked to chains anchored within the walls. There's a guard nearby, armed to the teeth… and still you decide to free them.

The guard’s magic is just as useless as yours, and while impressive in size, dexterity definitely isn’t his main strength. He hits hard — with brass knuckles, a chain mace, and a sturdy shield — and his stamina almost seems endless, but it’s not. Keep evading, and he’ll eventually tire enough to topple over. It’s also possible to have him chase you around if you don’t go too far, which would allow someone else to grab the spear. Once he’s too exhausted to go on, you can either kill him or chain him to the wall. The keys are in his boots, and you’ll find a bottle of water as well as a small vial of ointment in a satchel on the ground, where he previously stood.

The prisoner is a young man, perhaps in his mid-20s. Once freed from his shackles, he immediately keels over, though he’s not unconscious. He thanks you with a deep and raw voice, begging for water. You can tend to his wounds if you’re able—the ointment quickly soothes—and when he finally stands again, he asks you a question: “I’m a stranger to you, and you could have died. Yet, you chose to free me, unaware of my past. Of my crimes. Of my virtues. Why?”

Regardless of your answer, he smiles, a private understanding that turns the stretch of his lips enigmatic. There’s a bubbling chuckle in his throat, very hoarse, and then he hisses, touching where you’ve helped him apply the ointment on his body. “You know what they say. If it stings...” He looks at you, deliberately pausing there and staring bold into your eyes. “... then it must be working.”

It might feel like there’s more to what he’s trying to say, though it’s pointless to ask: he bows, and then he slowly inches away from you. “Until we meet again.” White and thick tendrils of smoke envelop him, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and then just like that, he’s gone.

so you’ve chosen to free him, which in turn has generated a future plot point that’ll occur some time in february. some of you WILL see him again.
what he says to you is a clue.
you can answer his question OOCly right here. it’ll have some bearing on the way your character will be approached re: future plot point.
if you've voted no and would still like to participate, you could always allow your character to be convinced or reluctantly dragged by another!

ooc note

► As always, check out the Notice Board if you'd like additional prompts! Older quests from previous months are always available as well. You'll also find the Calendar right here.
► You'll find already answered questions just here, and if you'd like to ask new ones, ask them here!
► For fun's sake and similarly to the puck adventure, you may play it out in different groups or on your own, and still obtain the same results as everyone else whether your characters threaded together!

Comments

callisto regulus / villains are destined to die

[uncourteous]

PUSHING UP DAISIES.

[ the concept of having any real emotional ties is not one he avidly likes to admit. while he doesn’t necessarily care whether his prior reputation holds any weight here— the crown prince of iron and blood did rather dramatic after all, hadn’t it? — he does care about displaying weakness. maybe it’s a bad habit, or something he’ll never truly become accustomed to. which is why as of now... he’s done his best to ignore whatever feelings he’s had thus far. choosing to focus on the present.

… and conveniently ignore whatever itch in his throat or the heat that burns between his temples. if anything, it was a lot easier to carry on in this state than it was to attend formal events while poisoned. so there was that? hence, it's in the beginning stages of this sickness that he does his best to remain focused on others. though, it isn’t as much in charity as it is a distraction.

thankfully, there was no end to easy diversions in this place. ]

a. [ hence, (unfortunately) this means someone needs to be the object of his latest obsession in finding random cures. whether you intended to receive his help or not, he will be there… ] You there. [ literally stepping into their path. ]

Be grateful, it’s not everyday you can say you’ve been personally looked after by me. [ there’s a brief touch of a smirk that slips across his lips. ] Let me take your temperature. [ just by hand, that is. ]

b. [ so, there comes a point in every man’s life where maybe they’re not at their best. denial could only get a person so far. he’s not sure what sprung this on, but it’s not a lie to state that uncharacteristic to himself, he hasn’t been feeling too well and it’s become increasingly difficult to hide it. but, it’s in this that he … has heard some peculiar rumors.

they seem to believe this disease was something of a lovesickness. a feelings sickness…? he isn’t quite sure what would fit adequately to what he feels, if just for lacking awareness or desire to delve into his own more intimate feelings. so as always, instead of legitimately explaining himself, he decisively opts to conduct himself in his usual straightforward and questionable manner.

he bites bites down a cough that he threatens to spill before smoothly asking: ] If you’re going to stare, the least you can do is allow me a bit of relief with that mouth of yours. [ this probably sounds very misleading, but he means… let’s talk, maybe? ]

TO THE RESCUE.

[ despite his own experience in the heat of battle, a rescue mission is obviously quite different. also unlike the terrain he knew so well at home, he completely comprehends the fact that he is mostly blind here, but that doesn’t really bother him much. he was used to a certain level of recklessness and he doubts he would have survived without that impulse.

that said, he peeks across the hall. there’s an obvious guard or two posted at the door. he seems to ponder on this momentarily, before focusing his gaze on nearest person— maybe sharing the same hiding space— ] Do you have a plan? Or are we simply meant to shed blood without a second thought?

[ someone please stop him, or join in!? ]

WILDCARDS & STARTERS!

[ feel free to wildcard me, or request a custom starter and i can def. make things work!! ]

🫧 kokomi.

[uncourteous]

[ to be honest, in the midst of coughing, he didn't expect to see someone familair. almost too familiar if the nature in how they met was telling of anything. then again, it isn't like callisto would bring attention back to that. despite how lacking in delicacy he was, it wasn't like he'd shame someone who obviously displayed a certain level of goodwill towards him. acquaintances she called them, didn't she?

a fact he isn't completely sure he understands even now.

that said, while their eyes met. he was actually going to simply walk in the other direction, perhaps to avoid this whole awkward display. especially as he doesn't necessarily have any expectations for others to give a shit about his own circumstances. no, it was never quite like that. at least not without that extra layer of wanting something from him, or... beyond that wanting him dead. as much as he tries to shut those thoughts out, sometimes it feels even harder here where no one seemed to follow the same conventions callisto was accustomed to. that said, when he's just about to step aside and make his way in the other direction, he just barely holds back another coughing fit.

ah, so much for appearing flawless.

he supposes he didn't have much of a choice but to acknowledge it now. hence, he looks up at her, doing his best to brush off the bit of the blood on the corner of his lip. ] Greetings, my lady. Have you changed your opinion of me yet?

daisies b

[prozaic]

Oh? [he pauses, except for his tail, which waves once and then falls back onto the ground.] ... Oh.

[being propositioned (???) is not at all what he expected when he approached someone who looked like they were struggling with the intent of helping, and with a poultice in hand. then he gives himself an internal shake, black-scaled tail flicking again.]

I am trained in first aid, but my technique in CPR is lacking... Though I doubt poultices are easily transferred through mouth. [now look, the poor serpent-man has mistaken his words for something else entirely.]

[uncourteous]

[ the shift of emotions he watches is nothing short of entertaining. it isn't often he encounters someone with a tail of some sort? but, despite his attention being focused on it, he decides to press forward despite it. decisively opting on saving his curiosity for another time. though, perhaps a time not too far off in the distant future. which is probably evident in the way his eyes occasionally return back to it.

nevertheless, he decides to stay within the lines of his original request. ] CPR? [ there are a few second he thinks, before he releases something between a scoff and a cough. ] Don't be too sad. I think whatever you have to offer could suffice.

[ which... probably doesn't clarify any confusion or miscomprehension of his words whatsoever, but listen. even when not feeling his best, he seems to punctuate this point by placing a hand on the stranger's shoulder. ]

[prozaic]

Truly... [shalem still feels a little wrong-footed-- clearly cpr isn't needed right now, which is good because the wrong chest compressions could hurt more than help, and shalem knows his strength would be too much for other people.

but somehow he gets the feeling that the man isn't actually asking for a kiss or emergency resuscitation, so he really has to ask.]

Well then...

Why don't you tell me how I can actually help, aside from putting medicine straight onto your tongue? Then I can see if I can actually perform such feats.

to the rescue

[midway]

[ The Gallows remind him of the dungeons some of the old castles in Fódlan still house; winding and maze-like, a hopeless place of misery and suffering. Claude feels perfectly in place being grim, crouched at a corner, looking ahead when Callisto calls his attention.

He glances over at him, lifting up his bloodied axe. ]

Do you have something to shed blood with?

[ Callisto, meanwhile, looks decidedly out of place. Like he's never thrown a punch in his life. ]

[uncourteous]

[ wow??

either way, callisto doesn't seem to delve too deeply into the implication of the other's words. after all, it'd probably be more effective to show him. hence, he does pull out a small dagger he's kept strapped to his back. ] While, this isn't much to look at, I assure you I have no trouble using it.

[ it is covered in blood and what looks to be maybe.. hair or some flesh stuck to it, but callisto doesn't seem to truly pay it any mind. ] Size isn't everything in this case. [ he says with an easy smile despite the situation, or how... unhinged he might look with blade in hand, chuckling darkly about a situation like this. ]

[midway]

[ Callisto is not doing a great job of not looking unhinged, but thankfully Claude isn't particularly concerned about him. As long as Callisto doesn't turn that blade toward him, he has no qualms with how bloodthirsty he might be. ]

In that case, I'd ask that you think about the blood you're shedding enough not to attack the prisoners or the others assisting with the jailbreak.

[ ... Maybe Callisto is a wildcard. Claude makes a note to watch his back. ]

But I wouldn't feel any remorse about shanking the guards.

daisies A.

[shadowier]

( it isn't the rudest way he's been addressed, and certainly not the first time that someone has singled him out from the crowd with a vague gesture or, in this case, a literal foot right in his path. a part of him wonders if he should be apologetic: had the stranger been calling out to him for some time? lost in his thoughts--or lost to the voice in his head, the one that seems determined to lead him astray--had he been rude? forgot his manners, walked past someone looking for assistance?

as his gaze lifts, eyes hardened slightly by distrust, he finds that it is likely none of these things. instead, as he's starting to gather, this is just another loud personality looking for someone to walk all over, and he's regrettably not in the sort of mood that might condone such behavior; or is it that he's never in the mood?

his hands slip down easily into the pockets of an old worn sweater he's taken to wearing, something warm enough against the slight chill in the air--they're outside, after all, and he'd been intending on scavenging the nearby market for fresh vegetables or something of the like. )

Do I look sick? ( there's a slight air of defensiveness in his voice--something that the mockery in his head seems to find repulsive. can't even sound sure of yourself, can you? his gaze flickers, moves past the shoulder of the stranger in his way. ) It's nothing. Besides, taking my temperature isn't going to help.

( and with that--a polite nod of his head--he seems to think that excuses him from this situation. )

[uncourteous]

[ it's easy to see there's something defensive in the stance the other individual carries. what he can't fully discern however if he was deemed as suspicious, or if this line of action was simply second nature for him. either way, this natural sense of distrust seems permeate the air around them and stick against his prickly words. but, despite that, callisto was fairly skilled in glazing over facts that didn't work in favor of his own narrative, and in this case (as with many), he decides to simply bulldoze past it.

with his own assumption in full swing, he retorts in an almost easygoing manner. ] Must one look sick to truly be sick? [ which might be more on behalf of himself than this stranger, but sometimes it was easier to place these presumptions on the shoulders of someone else than it was to look within.

especially when looking within tended to be quite dark. but, also as if to clear the air of his own words, he follows the teen step to step. still, miraculously remaining in his way. ] You shouldn't underestimate the power of a cold. Besides, who said that's all I could do?

[ or what's not a cold at all, but it isn't like it was callisto's intention to cause any further apprehension. hence, he keeps it simple. ]

[shadowier]

( and it's true, isn't it? it's not like he hasn't seen evidence of it before: those that are sick don't always display the symptoms, just like those who are healthy don't always look so put together. it's easy enough to think of his sister, politely tucked into a hospital bed; she never looked ill, never looked particularly haggard, and yet her unresponsiveness, her distance with the world at large, is clearly indication of something amiss.

the thought takes him, for a moment. his eyes, narrowed, jerk down, and end up focused somewhere near the stranger's feet. funnily enough, even as he takes his polite step sidelong, the stranger follows suit; he sees it happen, watches the weight pivot to block his path again, and while he might normally take it as some sort of challenge, he doesn't think that's quite what's happening here.

still, that doesn't mean he knows at all what's happening instead. he clears his throat, faintly, a hand lifting from his pocket to rub at the back of his neck, once. )

If it'll satisfy you, by all means, then. I'm fine. ( he seems stubbornly rooted to that thought, despite knowing very well otherwise. ) Take my temperature.

( the question that remains, no matter how he doesn't ask--is how will that be done? his gaze flickers, suspicious, a glance down and up the length of the stranger as if assessing him again. )

daisies b

[executory]

[ Why is this guy the way he is?

Sometimes you're just leaning against a wall having a nice (terrible) coughing fit because apparently tropes can't just stay tropes in books and have to actually plague you in real life. The upside is that she's not alone in her afflication, a good number of her fellows also coming apart at the seams and spewing up blossoms wherever they go. The downside is that her current fellow also suffering happens to be the one she (accidentally) locked lips with not so long ago.

Heewon frowns as she wipes a stray petal. ]

We already did that.

[ She would like to forget that incident but unfortunately it's going to haunt her until the day she dies. ]

What are you trying to suggest? I'm not in love with you, if that's what you're talking about.

[ And surely this guy can't want to talk about his feelings?? (She will be surprised, maybe.) ]

[uncourteous]

[ that is an excellent question...

even with the awkward footing of their first interaction, there's some semblance of relief (or is it comfort?) in seeing a familiar face. maybe this is only doubled due to their shared intimacy. or perhaps, that was simply the cough and other remaining feelings talking. callisto isn't sure if part of this was being reflective, or if the rumors on its cause and potential cures were simply entering and taking over too much of his head space.

whatever the case is, he releases something of an exhale when she speaks. ] Is it your intention to remove any and all romantic sentiments from the gesture? [ he puts on an act as if this effects him any. ]

My heart is going to ache, my lady. [ it really isn't, but he seems firm on making sure she knows this. ]

[executory]

[ calliso stop making everything weird challenge

She considers for a moment just turning around and walking away, but truthfully he really doesn't look so great and she knows a small part of her heart would feel regret if she left him to hack up daisies now.

But she's still not about to let his words just pass so easily. She frowns again, rebutting his words with some of her own. ]

It's Jung Heewon, not 'my lady'. At least call me by my name.

[ The latter makes her sound like some sort of noble princess, which couldn't be further from the truth. Maybe it'd be a title more fitting for someone like Yoo Sangah, with her refined beauty and careful choice in words, but certainly not for her.

Sighing, she heads over to where he is, dropping a casual hand onto her hip. ]

So who's the person you're thinking of?

[ There's gotta be someone, if he's been infected too. ]

pushing up daisies - a

[spaceassassin]

[ keith is having A Time. the tickle in his throat leaves him irritable and impatient, all of which is perpetually on a shoddy, weakened lease given that his best friend is shrinking. he would have liked to stay in until the pressure on his lungs lessens, but again, shiro fits in his hand and has also developed similar symptoms, meaning…? no rest for the weary; keith is out looking for answers.

he's found some. well, he's found something. rubbish, likely, but a few, consecutive clearings of his throat drew the attention of panhandler, who was very intent on stressing how eggshells at the entrance of a kitchen will prevent illness. keith of seven “days” ago would have shrugged off the superstition, but a keith who is a touch desperate to try anything at this point…

so he’s on his way to track down some eggs for purchase… until someone breaks his stride by stepping in front of him. ]

Uh, no?

[ be warned, he will smack that hand if it comes anywhere near him. he sidesteps, intending to go around, narrowed gaze never leaving him. ]

I already got my dose of alternate medicine today, okay? I don’t need you selling me on the wonders of eggshells, too.

[ which he’s ninety-percent certain is bullshit, so even if he’s going to try it, he’d rather not listen to it or the like a second time. ]

[uncourteous]

[ considering what callisto was capable of when he was suspicious or on-guard, a hand swat or two wouldn’t have been any skin off his back. it’s still probably kinder than being met with a sword at his throat. but, as with everything, he approaches him with the same composure and easygoing attitude as he previously had. in no way changing his initial demeanor, despite the obvious rejection of his words.

with something of a smirk, he continues. ] Really? You could be surprised at the home remedies of my kingdom. [ he’s no healer, so this is obviously a bluff, but as always there’s a certain confidence to his words. ]

But, eggshells? [ …hm. ] How’s that working out for you?

[spaceassassin]

[ the last person to offer up home remedies required nothing in return, surprisingly. something gives keith the impression that this dude won’t be of the same generosity. maybe it’s the smirk, maybe it’s the easy confidence, either way, keith has his doubts.

… but he’s also painstakingly honest, and all it takes is an inquiry for him to slow, enough for him to indulge an answer. ]

Haven’t tried it yet. [ frowns, uncertainty softening the harshness of his tone. ] They’re supposed to prevent illness if you line the entrance of your kitchen with them

[ and wow, he actually comes to a stop. ]

… Sounds even stupider when I say it out loud.

daisies... a/wildcard-ish... holds u bijou

[pyojeol]

[So about that obsession with finding random cures...

Sooyoung catches sight of Callisto laying his hands on whoever lets him, and while she'd write this off as weirdo behavior and move on with her life... he does it enough that it gets her to wonder. Is it a scam? Is he really trying to help? Does he, in fact, have a healer's touch? She moseys on over to answer -- none of these questions, and instead hoists up a suspicious looking purple tincture in both of her hands.]

Sure, but you have to drink this first.

[a favor for.....a favor??? She tries to pawn off the bottle into Callisto's looming hand,]

omg!?! yaywon!?!!? clings to!!

[uncourteous]

[ there aren't many times where people have caught him entirely off-guard.

one could claim that through the culmination of his own personal plights, he had become numb to most methods in which people had approached him. hence, why he shifts his gaze from the person he was just pestering to level his gaze on this young woman who... is asking him to drink mysterious concoction #1?

once the initial shock dies down, he continues carefully. ] I admit, this is the first time I've met an assassin who was this forward. [ a pause. ] I don't suppose this has worked for you in the past?

Ad liberandum/ To the Rescue

[sonofrome]

((Marius info page if you are canonblind:https://sonofrome.dreamwidth.org/1247.html))

[ Marius's own experience on the battlefield was a lot different than here, Rome he knew but here he was pretty much blind. ]

We don't need to shed blood if we can knock the two guards out. If we can't, then killing them is the way to go.

[uncourteous]

[ it's a relief to hear some sort of response from the man. while it didn't necessarily mean he could trust a complete stranger, at the very least he could believe in his desire to achieve the same objectives, or so he briefly thinks. still, he's a bit surprised at the words. in the same tune, he would very much whisper some sort of rebuttal, but instead, he figures arguing about this here would only add to the amount of troubles down the line.

there's a brief exhalation of breath, before he gives a curt nod. in a soft voice. ] Fortunately for us, you do look more than capable of knocking them out with just one of your fists. [ he means this as a compliment. besides, sometimes you can just tell through someone's entire being that they're accustomed to battle.

regardless, he prepares himself. attempting to map out exactly which one to go for.

he seems to look at the man beside him for a split second, if just to verify their line of sight and make sure their movements are aligned. though, he supposed worst case scenario they double team this one guy and get onto the next? either way, he's ready. ]

Daises A

[killtohero]

[Kazutora would pause at the sound of the robust, regal tone, ever one to pay attention to leaders and their charisma, and he'd glance over.

Tall, blonde, noble looking, and as he'd step closer, Tora would notice the bright red eyes, the exact shade of eyes as the man he was in love with.

Oh wow, this man was gorgeous.

So he'd stop and smirk and extend his wrist, lashes fluttering as he'd look up at him.]

Well consider me flattered, mister...?

[uncourteous]

[ this likely was one of the few takers that didn't have the normal reservations everyone else had. it made him deliberate if he was simply fearless, or simply did not view him as a threat. not that it mattered at any rate since his intention for once, wasn't focused on threats and unprompted violence.

seeing the wrist offered out, he takes it. realizing now his hands are gloved, he removes one side of his gloves, if just to temporarily place it in the pocket of his coat. ] I see you have excellent eyes. [ because he's leaving himself in the hands of a fake healer...

so obviously, this guy must have a peculiar character, or so he thinks. but, with that said. ] You can call me, "your masjesty." [ he thinks he's... funny. ] Or, Callisto works well enough in these lands.

🖤 d.

[uncourteous]

[ the concept of fishing as any real sort of quest is an odd one to consider. as one could expect, being the crown prince wasn’t always glamorous. if anything, the majority of his youth was spent on the battlefield or within the confines castle training himself to the bone while staving off the assassins that were regularly sent his way. regardless, this was… substantially quite different from that. he half-wonders if this was someone’s version of a prank, or someone’s strange whim.

he genuinely doesn’t even believe he is getting paid for this task, but it doesn’t necessarily stop him from wondering, or reaching out to someone he can drag along. hence, idk he wrote d a physical letter requesting his presence with zero context, or they happen to run into each other— whichever is the case, callisto seems confident as he stands right by the body of water they're expected to fish from, already beginning to unclasp his cape.

but, that doesn’t discount the rest of his obnoxiously ornate outfit decision of the day. with that said, once he sees the figure he's somehow become semi-familiar with, he raises a hand. ] Sorry to disappoint you. [ he says... as if him not being nude disappoints anyone. (it doesn't).

also like his words make any sense without the proper context. ]

[damnpire]

[DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR NOT BEING NAKED.

A lot of the time on the Frontier, D actually doesn't come at every beck and call. He's strictly professional, so either he's being paid for a hunting service, or he's not wasting his time. But there's nothing here except time to waste (sort of).

He shows up because of a hand-written letter since this is the funniest thing to me, and he thinks Callisto needs him for something serious... but he arrives in time to find Callisto shedding clothes by the bay?

...Is he being propositioned? This has the most Claude energy, he feels.]

Did you need me for something?