♚ ;; omniscience (remade)

indie alvis. xenoblade.selective. not spoiler free.

[monism]

remade from claairvoyancy – indie alvis ready 2 party! pages to be written up at a later date…

[monism]

remade from claairvoyancy – indie alvis ready 2 party! pages to be written up at a later date…

[monism]

remade from claairvoyancy – indie alvis ready 2 party! pages to be written up at a later date…

[monism]

remade from claairvoyancy – indie alvis ready 2 party! pages to be written up at a later date…

[monism]

remade from claairvoyancy – indie alvis ready 2 party! pages to be written up at a later date…

[claairvoyancy]

     Dusty, dirty, and somewhat overgrown, the path sloping southwards into a growing Homs territory hardly suits a divine servant, much less a god. At least, in the eyes of any knowing onlookers, of which Alvis can be assured are scarce. No, these two beings appear as everyday citizens in an effort to blend in amongst the commonwealth -- their goal being... an innocent one, for once. Per servant’s suggestion.

     With a tame flourish, Alvis gestures outwards with one hand, his opposite resting on his lower back as he welcomes his lord to walk ahead, and lead the way down the hill, towards the entrance of a local outdoor market. Children chase each other in between the shops, their laughter only drowned out by the chatter of merchants and caged animals amid other goods for sale. The cerulean ether in the sky is lazily burning into deep shades of gold; night will fall soon.

     “They call this place Ulehan,” entity begins, his attention briefly straying from Zanza to look over the people scattered within the bustling square, “I believe it is a word derived from languages the Giants speak. To light one’s way. Very thoughtful, I think.”

@titansouled​

[claairvoyancy]

@titansouled​

[apothete-blog]

Shulk stuffs his hands into each of his coat pockets in turn, making his way down the checklist of things he needs. He’s just hit “pack of wintergreen gum” when Alvis tugs on his arm, and he nearly trips into the other.

“AH—s-sorry…”

At the very least, he feels more awake now. He shakes his head as the other gazes upon him with a bemused look, then whirls around and proceeds to begin dragging him out of the building, talking all the while.

Shulk is indignant. “I have an eevee. A dragonair would be more to my tastes as well. Or a lapras. Or—” Anything, honestly, other than another pidgey. With any luck, the pond would have something interesting—though his was famously rather bad.

They’re moving down the stairwell now—someone propped the door open at the bottom (against the rules) and a breeze drifts upward through the echoing tower. He admits to himself that he is looking forward to this, exhausted as he is, and can’t suppress a smile at the enthusiasm of his companion. Alvis has a gentle but firm grip on his arm, steadying Shulk as he picks his way down the stairs. He tries not to think about it too hard.

He pauses at the mention of teams. “I won’t tell you how long it took me to pick, but in the end I went with Instinct… and yourself?”

[claairvoyancy]

     Catching duplicates is how one is to progress, but he can’t blame him for being picky. Especially considering how tedious it is to transfer everything back to the professor in exchange for that pokemon’s candy. Once something is registered to the pokedex, there’s..really no use in catching more unless you have a genuine interest in it.

     They step out into the night just as a chuckle bubbles up in Alvis’ chest, brows raising as he delightedly looks over to his friend . “Instinct? Well, I should have figured. You definitely seem the type, now that it’s out there.” His teasing is brought forth only by the massive community formed since the app’s release. At first, it seemed to be a harmless choice, picking a team. However the sentiment was quickly replaced as the masses grew, and they had since picked up weighted stereotypes. Typically Instinct is associated with underdogs. Geeks, and pushovers. 

     Very fitting.

     “ .. Mystic,” he replies, finally answering the initial question, “I promise not to take any of your gyms tonight, should we spot any.” More teasing. But being on Instinct, one should be used to that. Alvis adjusts his sleeves, promptly tapping the app on his phone, revealing a blue map of town, surrounded by starlight. “A truce, just for tonight.”

[apothete-blog]

Nonchalant as usual—that, at the very least, is expected. The winning smile and the relaxed but handsome fashion sense is rather jarring this…late? early? as the last person he saw was himself, in the mirror, looking like he had survived several weeks in a war prison. Not to mention…

Shulk needs several seconds to process what he just heard, and to peer at the screen of the other’s hideously state-of-the-art phone. The usual collection of lures and stops is positioned around his complex.

Not that any of them had managed to attract anything of note, despite Shulk’s best efforts. Unless Alvis could be considered “of note”. He certainly wasn’t a pokemon. But he was notable. Notable. Yes, that was a good word. Exactly the kind he is so sure he needs in this situation, for some reason.

“Notable,” Shulk mumbles, and stumbles back into his apartment to fetch his shoes.

He does his best to smile as he returned, managing something he thinks approximates the expression rather well. How Alvis manages to be put together and so charming at a time like this is a mystery worthy of the world’s greatest minds—but he distracts himself by groping his thick, beat-up black phone case to investigate, perhaps, his next catch…A dratini. Yes, that sounds wonderful. 

“mready, where’s the…” he trails off, glassy-eyed.

[claairvoyancy]

     “The park. Don’t forget your keys.” The amusement in his voice is clear as he watches the other fish around for the bare essentials when late night Pokemon hunting. He’s truly exhausted, isn’t he. Alvis considers sending him back to bed, but the proposition is already on the table, and he cannot possibly go out alone. That attitude is for those without friends, and .. murder victims. 

     Reaching out, he tugs his friend by the arm over the threshold, a giddy sensation settling in his chest. The walk to the park will be only a few blocks, and he is positive that the various paths throughout the grassy sanctuary will be swarming with people, all with similar evening plans.

     Tracking digital creatures aside, Alvis enjoys the idea of dragging Shulk out into the night for a long walk. He had found him to be one of the few who would humor his theories on ideology, especially at such an hour, when such talks are best held. He would forever thank the stars for sending him someone with an even more active imagination than his own, and intelligence to match.

     “Oh -- and eevees,” he adds, snapping out of his thoughts, “Plenty of those. Mostly I would just like a dragonair. The chances are slim, but, you know,” a dreamy sigh, “What team are you on, by the way? I never asked.”

[apothete-blog]

It’s past midnight, and he has been working for hours—textbooks are strewn across the desk and floor, and the lamp bulb is still hot to the touch. The warm folds of his bed welcome him as he collapses into and wraps himself inside it, fully clothed and uncaring of the consequences of not being properly prepared for sleep.

Diagrams and equations dance through his mind, and he yawns, drifting gently into soft exhaustion. He’s certain he’ll dream of the things he wishes he could build again tonight—new inspiration, new ideas—and reaches up to move the journal slightly closer to him on the end table. Tonight will be a long and rejuvenating rest.

His phone buzzes.

He groans, (it is irrational, but maybe the offender can hear him—perhaps they can be made to feel guilt for disturbing him) and blunders the phone into his hands and in front of his face, sideways. It takes him four tries to unlock it properly. A fifth and he would have simply resolved to go back to sleep.

🌌🔑🌜-12:46 AM Go to your door.

Oh good lord, it was him. Perhaps he wanted another late night discussion session, far too late for Shulk to question the nature of existence properly, or be very interested in philosophy whatsoever or whatever other esoteric subject he would take up. Not that he… minded as much as he told himself he did…

He drags himself up and to the door, not bothering to put on shoes or turn on the light, fumbling for the knob for a solid ten seconds before he emerges, blinking in the cold, fluorescent hallway light to see the silver-haired menace before him.

“It’s nearly 1 am,” he mumbles, “is something wrong?”

[claairvoyancy]

     As soon as the door cracks open to reveal his target for the evening, Alvis is at attention, feigning innocence in the halo of light overhead. Pale eyes stray from the other’s exhausted features to spy into his apartment, taking note that the student’s usual disaster had not changed at all since his last visit. In fact, it might have gotten worse. The observation makes him grin, and he focuses back on his disgruntled companion.

     Turning his phone over in his hand, he faces the screen towards Shulk, displaying a pale green map of town dotted with hovering blue squares. 

     “Come on a walk with me. It’s nice outside, I promise.” He isn’t stretching the truth -- all he wears is a pair of dark blue jeans and a baggy sweater, the sleeves rolled up above his elbows, his usual necklace’s bulky charm hidden beneath the collar. Long hair is mussy, but contained: pulled up into a ponytail high on his head. “I heard there are dratinis by the river in the park.”

     Pokemon Go had all but consumed his free time in recent days, and he is eager to lure whoever he can into the fray with him. Of course, the question of whoever easily came down to Shulk. Perhaps too easily. The surplus of Pokestops surrounding his apartment building had been persuading as well.

[claairvoyancy]

     Phone grasped in one hand, a young man swiftly ascends the staircase of a slumbering apartment building late at night. He does not worry about any noise his steps might cause -- he is far too light on his feet. Save for encountering a few smokers at the entrance outside, he had infiltrated the complex unnoticed. Not that covertness is necessary; Alvis simply fancies himself an agent of the night when planning surprise visits to people he really should give warning to.

     312, 313, ... 314. Pausing, he taps out an ominous message, sidestepping whilst hitting send, and leisurely leaning on the door frame to wait.

                   >> Go to your door.

@apothete​

[nothingherehesgone]

Ｉ＇ｍ  ｎｏｔ  ｒｅａｄｙ  ｔｏ  ｇｏ

[claairvoyancy]

Updated theme, updated playlist, and hopefully updated resolution to rp more in the future! Heh heh.

[heavcnsmartyr-blog]

He nodded and the music started again, graceful melodies off the walls of the room. Their feet side step around the room in circles, light and very strategically placed. Kallian’s face was pinched in strong concentration. The prince’s appearance dimmed under his current dark expression - not something a lady would like to look at. Not that he was dancing with a lady, it was just the seer.

Alvis was a good dancer though, very graceful in the way he moves and nothing with charming smiles as if they were nothing. Kallian was at least decent but he always felt exhausted after holding hands of all the women and having his nose plugged with different brands of perfume. With Alvis, it felt more natural. He did not have to put on a show and just be able to move with the beat however he pleased. 

[claairvoyancy]

                        Words were rather unnecessary as they glided across the floor, and Alvis found their mutual concentration rather comforting. The need for conversation to fill any awkward gaps soon slipped away, akin to the way their steps intermingled, turning ( always turning ) and sliding along the smooth flooring below. 

                             Eventually, the music died out, and their waltzing was ended once more, but with more proper movements. Stepping back after releasing his hands, Alvis bows graciously, rising back up with a pleased smile.

                                  “ No wonder every woman in the capitol                                     wishes to dance with you. You are                                      quite good at it. ”

[heavcnsmartyr-blog]

He nodded, blue orbs gazed upon the bright sky above them. His arms were crossed over his chest, a breeze brushing the bridge of his nose. Lids start to grow heavy and subconsciously, his head lolls onto the crown of Alvis’ head. 

Kallian, unsure of what to say next, closed his eyes and snuggled closer to the man beside him. He felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. It was fatigue probably speaking when he whispered, “So soft…”  into the other’s hair. 

[claairvoyancy]

                  Blinking slowly, he takes in the emptiness of the sky above, the vastness of space beyond the Bionis’ shower of Ether and rising sea mist. For another being, such focus may induce a sense of vertigo, but this entity is far too accustomed to the seemingly unending reaches of this world. It is only when he feels the other pressing against himself that Alvis is pulled back to the earth below.

                      Reaching up, he cups the side of the prince’s face, delicate fingers moving to caress his jaw. Kallian is clearly tired, but the seer does not wish to abandon the stars quite yet. He shifts, molding himself to the other man’s shape as he speaks quietly.

                              “ This would be a poorly chosen place                                  of rest, you know. You could very well                                  freeze to death -- and what would the                                  guards think? ”

[uyuro]

flowers by kajico**

[tuhrtleneck-deactivated20151010]