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Entry tags:
- ! mod event,
- arknights: shalem,
- bleach: grimmjow jaegerjaquez,
- bleach: jugram haschwalth,
- danganronpa: fukawa toko,
- encanto: bruno madrigal,
- ennead: set,
- fe3h: claude von riegan,
- fe3h: felix hugo fraldarius,
- ffvii: vincent valentine,
- genshin impact: tartaglia (childe),
- genshin impact: the traveler (lumine),
- hades: zagreus,
- htwmho: rudbeckia de borgia,
- jjk: fushiguro megumi,
- jjk: itadori yuuji,
- naruto: uchiha sasuke,
- orv: han sooyoung,
- orv: jung heewon,
- shadow and bone: the darkling,
- stranger things: steve harrington,
- the last of us: joel miller,
- vld: keith
(no subject)
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:
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.
III. TO THE RESCUE
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.
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.► 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!
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.
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!
rudbeckia de borgia • how to win my husband over
[ maybe you've already tried your hand at retrieving the star fragment from the Hinterlands, and weren't able to get past the judgey elementals; maybe you've just heard from others about the impromptu weighing of your soul required to earn their approval. what better way to negotiate with them than to bring along someone pure as virgin snow? except, if you do happen to ask Rudbeckia to accompany you— ]
No way! No way, no way. What if they don't like me?!
[ is that her concern??? ]
HINTERLANDS.
[ ... but if you do manage to convince her, and lead her out through the Hinterlands — when she steps up in front of the tiny Knights of the Broken Flame, she freezes. so do the little fire spirits, who regard her warily.
they seem... less receptive than expected? Ruby turns to look at you nervously, seeking support, and then back at the elementals. ]
H-Hello...
[ by the time they've dragged her all the way from Serene to the Gallows, Rudbeckia has given up on any resistance. she's always known that there isn't any point in trying to explain herself; the only thing anyone ever wants is punishment. so, she cooperates. the brand hurts, but she's had worse. they're detached about it all, closer in manner to the way the servants used to treat her; that, too, doesn't compare to the humiliation of cowering to her eldest brother's sneer.
anyone who has met Ruby might expect her to cry, encountering her here. she doesn't make a sound. she is almost obedient, sitting up against the wall, her golden hair in disarray around her. the only expression on her face is exhaustion.
even if she knows her cellmate, she doesn't acknowledge them at all. ]
RESCUE.
[ throughout the chaotic process of escaping the prison, Rudbeckia does her utmost not to make a nuisance of herself — if she falls behind, she's certain she'll be left there. she keeps pace with her rescuer without complaint and does as she's told, never asks for more than she's given. it isn't until they enter the dark passageway that her blank demeanour finally cracks:
she reaches out to hold the back of your shirt, just barely with the tips of her fingers. ]
I-I'm sorry. I can't see very well, so...
AFTERMATH.
[ for several days following the jailbreak, Rudbeckia does not leave the apartment complex, and in fact hardly even leaves the suite. if anyone wants to check in on her, they'll have to seek her out or send a message. ]
[ a week. she gives herself one week of sulking and cowering, shaken by once again getting driven to the very edge of a cliff for something she didn't do, and by the realisation of how dangerous the Hierarchy is, even to someone like her. but that only means it's more important than ever that she can establish lifelines amidst the other Restless. it's not like she thinks anyone would ever come to save her if she were sent to the Gallows alone, no matter her reputation; she's not a child, dreaming up fairytales.
she'll just take whatever rope she can reach. that's enough for her, because it has to be. so she has to do whatever it takes to make sure that rope won't break when she tries to climb it. fixing up houses like she said is a good start, isn't it? a kind-hearted girl and a compliant citizen.
you might find her trying to carry supplies that are definitely too heavy for her, or find yourself curious when you see her sweeping debris out the front door of a ramshackle house... or maybe you're already here to help her out. if she doesn't know you, she will have asked for your assistance and even offered to pay; for her existing
friendsacquaintances, if you offer your help, she tries to insist that she doesn't want to be a bother, but you can eventually get her to cave.sometimes she can be heard humming while she works. if you're from the 21st century, you might hear a snippet of a tune that sounds familiar. it's probably just a coincidence! ]
NEW MOONS.
[ somewhere in Stygia, you find Rudbeckia facing a door with her head against it, leaning into it with her full body weight. she seems... depressed???
(she doesn't know how to open doors.)
alternatively, if you live in the apartment complex in Serene, you might encounter Ruby sitting next to a door like a cat waiting to be let in/out. ]
house flipping
mo ran grimaces as he looks at all the logs she'd cradled in her arms tumble to the ground with a loud noise after just a few steps, risking to hit her feet in the fall. he quickly rushes over, his high ponytail swaying back and forth and his black hanfu billowing in the motion. ]
Are you hurt?
[ he asks already from a distance and by the time he's close to her and intently looking her over to spy if there's any blood, it's obvious she's talking to her. he may tower over her with his 6'2". ]
Let me help. You risk to get injured and there are too many things here that'd take advantage of it.
no subject
she should have remembered that things never turn out the way she wants them to. Rudbeckia de Borgia, the unluckiest person in life and death! and on top of her humiliation, she just had to have an audience for it. speaking of which:
Why the hell are all the guys in this place so damn tall? ]
I-I'm okay... [ true to her word, she seems unharmed, just embarrassed. ] I'm really sorry! I didn't want to be a nuisance, but now I'm just troubling you... I would really appreciate the help, though.
no subject
No trouble, no trouble. We're all neighbors here. No need to be so formal.
[ he grins, and he gathers the heaviest logs in his arms, while handing out the thinnest to her again, so they can both be useful, without anyone getting harmed. maybe it's because he's spent most of his life in a cultivation sect where helping out your fellow disciples was just as normal as breathing, but it's clear he doesn't mind. ]
We all have things that come easy and things that we find difficult. Maybe next time you'll be the one helping me out.
[ he says warmly. he hums upon checking his surroundings and finding out he has collected everything she was carrying and he stands straight again, the load held in his arms. ]
Where were you headed?
no subject
[ or rather, she wouldn't want to owe him a favour and have it come back to bite her further down the line. Yoo Joonghyuk was right to demand from her what she wanted in return for assisting him when they first met, but "Ruby" doesn't have that option—she has to be nice about it, not at all wary of others. she'll just have to jump on the opportunity to repay him as soon as she sees an opening. ]
It's just this way. [ there's a skip in her step as she leads him down the street. ] I'm trying to fix up some of the houses that are in decent shape, so that new arrivals like us have somewhere to stay!
extreme makeover - stygia edition
Because, of course, the moment he sees Ruby carrying a big box on her own, he'll rush to help her, flowers in his lungs or not. Renovating houses was something he definitely has experience in, even if merely supervising the work and deeming what to be done, to begin with.] Which one do you like the most for the living room?
[Curtains, they're choosing fabrics to make curtains out of them.]
no subject
Mm... It should probably be something durable. [ she thumbs the corner of a rich velvet, and then moves along to another fabric. ] Everything here eventually degrades, but I'd like for it to last as long as possible. Linen might be a good choice? Perhaps in a darker colour, since it isn't very thick...
[ it won't be her home, but it's important for her reputation that she does a good job with it. there aren't many ways for her to make herself useful. ]
What do you think, Zag?
[ she really hadn't wanted to recruit his help. it's such a waste of his kindness, and she's already wasted too much of it—at this rate, she's going to have to come up with something she can do to win a little more of his affection, before he starts seeing her as a burden. ]
no subject
[Completely unaware of Ruby's economic take on affection, Zagreus is happy to help with no strings attached. He's spent his whole immortal life hearing he's useless, so he likes to prove his Father, his own lack of skills regarding the tasks he had been given at home, and the voices in his head wrong.
He reaches for the linen, thoughtfully feeling it between his thumb and forefinger, the texture dyed to something darkened.] We can always request them to use two layers of fabric.
no subject
[ this is exactly why she always turned down her responsibilities as the would-be Duchess in the Omerta House. every time she has to put forth an idea or an opinion of her own, her heart briefly races—anticipating the negative reaction. contempt, scorn, mockery. she's an idiot, she so obviously doesn't have a clue what she's talking about, nobody wants to hear it. (How many times have I told you to just keep your mouth shut?)
it's not like she thinks Zagreus would say it. not like that, not so suddenly. that doesn't mean her mouth hasn't gone dry. she tries to swallow, and perks up with a smile, though it isn't quite as bright as her usual. ]
Or maybe we should use dark linen for the bedroom, and something else for the living area?
no subject
Fortunately, her second idea is definitely one that he can get 100% behind, so he brightens up.] That surely is a better call. Which of the fabrics would you choose for the bedroom, then?
no subject
Um... [ her fingertips come to rest on a roll of sheer, white linen. ] Something like this? It's still linen, so it should be durable even though it's sheer. And I wouldn't want to choose a colour that's too bold.
[ right? that makes sense, even if she doesn't know much about interior design. she's seen a few episodes of home improvement shows and they always talk about neutral colours... ah, who is she kidding. hell, she's never even been allowed to furnish her own bedroom before. ]
Do you think... dark blue, for the bedroom?
no subject
Though he does pause as if remembering something and makes a sheepish face.] Do you know how to sew? We may need to do a hem stitch, but I never learned how. I usually just ordered people to do this.
no subject
[ while her mother in her previous life had cared enough about public image to provide her with new and expensive clothes every now and then, she hadn't cared enough to make sure any of them actually fit; it was easiest to learn how to make small alterations just to avoid being berated later for an imperfect appearance, and small repairs for when the girls at school went too far with their bullying... it's been a while since she last did it, and she'd watch a Youtube tutorial if she could, but it should be serviceable enough. ]
It's hard when you're used to having servants around, isn't it? I'm always worried I would seem like a spoiled brat if I mentioned it, but... There's a lot of things you just never learn how to do.
house flipping
Here, come, let me carry all of that... You needn't pay me, either. [then he shifts the boxes onto one arm, and then holds out his other one.]
Place them all here. [his tail flicks as he smiles.] I promise, I can carry all of them. Transporting things is my specialty, what little expertise I have.
no subject
tentatively, she places the last box in his proffered arm, though the expression on her face is uneasy, guilty about the burden. it isn't an easy act to maintain when all she really wants to do is sigh in relief. this project was her idea, but she definitely did not want to haul all these stupid boxes of roof tiles and other repair supplies from the market to the housing area. ]
Thank you very much for the assistance, signore. [ her hands now empty, they instead find her skirt to pick at, a nervous fidgeting. ] But, if it's your specialty, then I feel even more that I ought to repay you... Um, is there anything I could do for you instead, if you don't want coin?
[ she chose a stranger so that she didn't have to waste the integrity of any of her lifelines—but she'd rather not owe any ambiguous favours if she can help it. ]
no subject
at the same time...
they might just talk each other into a circle if shalem insists that he doesn't need to be repaid, especially with what she's just said. while circular conversations could be fun just to pass the time, or come up with new ideas for something they're batting around... he's not up to it in this situation.]
Perhaps some tea? Or coffee, if that's what you have instead.
no subject
[ that may or may not be historically accurate, she isn't an expert on the subject... but, well, it was true in the novel, so it's not her problem. she's just glad she already knew how to make tea, even if she hasn't done so in a few years.
... ah, wait. ] —I'm so sorry!! You're carrying all this for me, and I'm just standing here talking! Um, it's this way!
no subject
hopefully her tea wouldn't be that bad, it's quite common for people with servants to just... be bad. unless they're hypercompetent nobles who are better than even their own bodyguards.]
But really, even just a small bag for me to take home is enough, if you have one to spare. I don't really care where I take my tea, as long as I do have it.
no subject
[ while she doesn't get any impression of hostility from him, what she assumes to be polite indifference is an expected reaction too, and a familiar one. if anything, the interest and personal regard she's been on the receiving end of from many other Restless is so unusual as to be disconcerting. she'd prefer help from strangers for a reason. ]
I'm Rudbeckia, by the way. I thought I would fix up some of the empty houses so that the newest of us would have lodging, but... [ she laughs, sheepish. ] I don't know what I would have done without your help. I've never tried to arrange anything like this myself, so I didn't even think of how I would get the materials to where they're needed.