LIGHT A FLOWERWORK!

It was strange to think that Valkin had more horses than an estate so large. Then again, if so few lived here... Bah. What a waste of all this space.

"His name is Brimstone," he grunted, moving to grab hold of his reins. Not that he needed to lead Brim too much, but still. "And no. I will lead him. Take me to your stables."

This was not what he expected to be doing upon meeting his wife. So unexpected that the aggression and indignance he had been fostering the entire three day trip had all but drained away.

... Was that this Southern witch's plan? Was this all a strategy to catch him off guard?

#newsidequest #&; ( lena ic )

Brimstone. It was a fitting name. Also made her think of fire and brimstone and the devil, but maybe that was his intention. As she stepped the rest of the way down the stairs, holding her dress just a bit and then letting it drop, she led the man around the side of the manor. He didn't appear annoyed that nobody had thought to stable his horse as soon as he arrived, but it wasn't all that surprising considering he wanted to drop their official titles right away.

As she walked, she thought that the prince was a man of few words. Maybe it was just because first-time meetings were almost always awkward, or maybe he just wasn't sure what to say. To be forced together like this, a married couple already... it was enough to make even the most confident person unsure of how to progress.

So, Lena decided to continue to break that ice, even if it led to an avalanche. "Are you as blindsided by this marriage as I am?" Her tone was neutral because there was no point in being angered by it. Not in public, anyway. In the privacy of her chambers, she could cry and rant about it all she liked, but doing so now would make her appear weak before him. She didn't ever want to appear that way in front of a man.

"I am a few years older than you, I hear." About four years older? Her lips twisted, amused. Most men would find that to be a terrible fate: stuck with a woman older than them and believing them to be too old to be worth anything. "Does that bother you?"

She did not prize titles? That was mildly surprising. Although before he could comment on it, her next statement was ... Not what he expected. The offer to allow him to rest seemed to be a return to normalcy, but Cynder already suspected this woman was strange.

Perhaps that was why she had been offered in the negotiations (he was not strange, despite being in the same situation; he was a prince and therefore had a right to be choosy).

"I am not too fatigued." Ylento's roads were flat and even, as though all the personality of the land has been pounded out of it. "My horse is just outside."

Without waiting for an answer, Cynder turned on his heel and strode out. A few yards away stood a massive black steed, idling patiently where Cynder had left him. His thicker coat and muscular legs made it clear he was bred for work, snow, and war.

"He does not know you, so do not get close," he grunted, gesturing towards him. "These foreign surroundings have him on edge." Looking at her over his shoulder he asked, "Have you no stables?"

#newsidequest #&; ( lena ic )

"We do, but would your horse allow one of the men to lead him to it?" If he were unsure of strangers, then anyone interacting with him would probably result in them being sent flying by an unhappy horse. Lena remained on the steps of the manor house, simply gazing upon the stallion. He was a beauty, indeed.

"What's his name?"

If Cynder thought the interaction with her strange, she was unaware. It wasn't uncommon for others to think Lena an oddball. Her father chastised her for not fitting in with what society expected of a lady of her social standing. She scoffed at that, letting his complaints roll off of her without a second thought.

"We don't have horses other than the two that pull the carriage, so your boy will have his own spot in the stable." Just as long as he didn't try and fight with the two that were already occupying their side.

"Elias." His name was known in the village, so it wasn't anything to hide. Anyway, from their short interaction, Aidan seemed kind and thoughtful and not the type to take advantage of Elias' gift.

He rose with the man, the empty glass still in hand as he walked him to the gate. "I look forward to your next visit." Most of his clientele were usually women who had lost husbands or sons, and any men that came by were usually older seeking to speak to a wife who passed from illness. Aidan was the first man in a while who appeared to be around his age.

Handsome, too.

Not that I'm looking!

He was.

He cleared his throat, felt the judgmental gaze of his cat in the window behind him (it's like he knew exactly what he'd been thinking...), and smiled warmly. "Until we meet again, Aidan." He tugged the gate closed after the man had stepped out, a gentle breeze blowing through his hair and the flowers nearby.

"Until then."

Aidan departed promptly, feeling a bit uncertain as he did. Surely, Elias was not committing any atrocities against her Radiant Light. Surely not. He detected no malice from him, so maybe the man was truly deluded into believing he could contact the dead...?

Shaking his head, the holy knight focused on his goal. He'd head back home and return soon to get the answers he sought. He'd just have to be satisfied with that.

Aidan's trip home was about what he expected. His parents were pleased to see him, no matter how briefly. He did not let them know his reasons for returning home, however. He did not believe his mother would appreciate him fetching a possession of his grandmother's to tempt a potential heretic.

Within a few days, he was back in the village, and making his way back towards Elias' home. Hopefully, he would be available.

This time, Elias wasn't outside tending to his garden. He'd finished his seasonal fix-up a couple of days ago and was content with letting nature take over. However, Aidan didn't even have to make his presence known, as Imhotep was the perfect little alarm system.

When Elias met him at the door, he lit up with that same warmth that he held for people that gave him good energy. And Aidan was definitely one of those people. "Aidan! You made it back quicker than I imagined." Of course, Elias had no idea where the other man lived, but there weren't many villages around these parts. Maybe he had a good means of transportation in the form of a horse? Or maybe even an entire carriage? Many of the villagers didn't have anything but their legs, which was why they rarely left the village.

"Come in, come in. I have time before my next appointment." Which was very lucky timing, indeed. "Please don't be afraid of Imhotep. He won't harm you, even if he looks particularly moody today. He's irritable because he missed his landing earlier and landed in the pond." And had then proceeded to act as if it was Elias' fault for not somehow knowing that he would misjudge the distance.

Elias' cottage was cozy and decorated in a way that seemed rather normal compared to his profession. There were many interesting trinkets around his living space, each with its own story of how he obtained it. There was a large hearth and a dark red rug that was the perfect size for Imhotep to lounge on. The seating area was one small couch and a single armchair, which Elias led Aidan to.

"Let me get you some tea, then we can talk about how to proceed."

Cynder had to wonder what life must have been like for these simple men paid to open doors. Did their muscles atrophy? Would they blow away with a stray wind? He had scarcely announced himself to the dead-eyed manservant before the woman that would be -- that was his wife approached, and he nudged past the servant uncaring of what dirt he tracked in with him.

She was a pretty thing, at least. Willowy. Clean. Decent tits. He couldn't quite tell the width of her hips under that dressing gown but she was probably reasonably equipped to bear him children.

"It was uneventful for a ride through enemy territory," he grunted after his visible assessment of her from top to bottom. "The 'Prince' title is unnecessary. You are Magdalena?"

#newsidequest #&; ( lena ic )#//lena: show me the horse.#//lena: ur actual horse this is not a euphemism.

His obvious appraisal of her looks didn't faze her; after all, she was doing the same to him. It still didn't feel real to know this man was her husband. Perhaps because no ceremony had been held, it would never feel real.

"I am," she said, tilting her head ever so slightly so that the footmen could leave them. The men hesitated for a second, as if unsure if they could truly leave their lady with this visitor. Husband or not, he was still a stranger. Lena nodded, signaling that she would be fine, and they took their leave, returning to their previous posts.

"I shall call you just Cynder, then. I'd prefer us to not be formal with each other." What was the point in that? It would just make everything feel that much more awkward, and it would give her a headache.

Now that the footmen were gone, she found it easier not to act as the lady of the house. Honestly, it could get so exhausting having to mind herself, and she had no intention of showing Cynder a fake version of herself just to appease him.

"Dinner is being prepared and won't be ready for a while yet, so I'd like to meet your horse." It was a request that seemingly came out of nowhere, but wasn't it a good ice-breaker? Lena had never been allowed to have her own horse—something about her father believing she was too fragile for such a thing—so she'd always ridden in the carriage.

"Unless you're too fatigued from the travel and would prefer to rest first?" She looked up at him, still not believing this man was her husband. "Would you like to be escorted to a room?"

redemptioninterlude

"frendo?" okay now she wasn't even sure what he was talking about, but like, honestly, it more seemed like this was a place that almost kept itself isolated from the world at large. no wonder it'd come well recommended when they'd been looking for a place to keep her far and away from the harder hitting drugs, but, in rue's experience, that just meant that shit was better HIDDEN. "so wait. there's like, an actual clown figure thing, that you made up, and now it's like, the whole logo of the town? does that make you rich or something?" oh. so like, the nate jacobs of this place, but seemingly less of an ass. for now, at least.

"you guys even have a sheriff? this is sounding, like, more and more insane. and i guess all adults are against anything fun." she should ask him about where she could PICK UP, but honestly, she hadn't figured out yet just how friendly he could be if asked, or if he'd be the first to run off and tattle. as if she wanted to deal with anything around that. but at least for now, she had her schedule, and, cole was being pretty okay in telling her where to go, peering at her paper, rue herself almost having to slump to share. "oh yeah? i mean. are theyyyy... nice?"

well, what the fuck was he going to tell her, no? she suddenly laughed, realizing just how fucking insane it felt to suddenly be ripped from all the people she thought she knew and had grown up with herself, taking that breath. "honestly, i grew up in a place kinda similar, just not as UPTIGHT." even if the parents and adults all sounded like they're forgotten that they'd let them roam as digital natives, so plugged in that they existed in a world that they'd never understand. everything, teaming online with the best, the worst, the way to feel both more connected than ever, and more isolated then one would imagine. "tell me about your friends though, i'm like - just kinda happy i won't be sitting on my own, yanno?"

★— ATTN: @dramatiique

#redemptioninterlude #&; ( cole ic )

“I mean, when you put it like that, it sounds fucking insane, yeah. Like a creepy town you’d seen in a slasher movie, but I guess I’m probably just trying to make it seem more interesting so that you don’t decide to move in a week.” But having a sheriff wasn’t really the norm unless it was a small town, so that must be weird for a kid coming from some big city.

“You’re from California? You have that sort of TV accent.” Any show he actually took the time to watch always seemed to be set in trendy places like California or New York. But California was a big place, so it didn’t surprise him to hear that Rue had grown up in a similar sort of vibe, even if it was more relaxed.

“Yeah, I guess every place has their eccentricities.”

When the conversation looped back around to his friends, Cole shrugged. “They’re okay, but I have to warn you—they will try and prank you. It's sort of a rite of passage. We have this YouTube channel where we do horror pranks and urban exploration. It was my idea, but the others sort of ran with it.” He’d taken more of a backseat, letting them take over with filming. Some of them got really into it, which sometimes had Cole telling them to chill out.

“I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that we’re not well-liked by the sheriff and Co, but it really started just to get rid of the boredom. It got pretty popular, so we just stuck with it.” Cole flashed her a grin. “Don’t worry, we won’t force you to put on any clown costumes. Matt prefers that role.”

He slowed his steps just because he didn’t want to get to Rue’s classroom too quickly. “What about your friends? Are they making plans to fly out and visit you any time soon?”

@dramatiique

No words could appropriately describe what he was feeling in this moment. Rage was close, but it didn't appropriately capture the humiliation -- the resignation, the sting to his pride that felt more akin to the swinging of an axe.

Valkin had always survived on its own. Cynder knew the stories of hardship and tragedy that had unfolded long before he was even conceived. Even before his great-grandfather had united the tribes into one, Valkinans persevered without allies. Without even gods!

So to be reduced to this -- to accepting aid from Ylentan merchants, allowing them to build a trading post in their land? It was an admission of weakness. Of defeat. It had been bad enough that he and his father had shouted at each other for three days over it.

If they needed more supplies, they would raid more villages. They could go further into the south that before if they had taken all they could from the outskirts! He would sooner burn every town across the border than accept foreign aid, and yet his father remained firm in his decision.

The stubborn old fool. He was ill, Cynder knew, and perhaps his mind had begun to fray. If he had known, Cynder would have taken his crown himself -- but before he could, he had been diminished to this: a free cock, thrown in with this blasphemous farce of a 'negotiation'. The merchant had a daughter of marriageable age. His father had been needling him about needing heirs.

Cynder wouldn't have protested as much if not for the fact that she wasn't being brought to Valkin. It was he who was expected to leave his home and cross into enemy territory to the house where she resided.

After three days upon horseback, he arrived. Even having never been this far into Ylento, he had managed to find his way. At least that was something worth being proud of -- a bright spot in what was otherwise a miserable sentence.

Still, as much as he hated every moment of this, Cynder was loyal to his King's word. Even if those words were foolish and ill-sighted. If this Magdalena was to be his wife, then he would do his expected duty: breed the bitch and, with any luck, return to Valkin once the resulting spawn was healthy enough to walk on its own.

Ylento's weather was as fierce as a drunk soldier's stream. He doubted that between the mild seasons and copious excess that it would have much trouble making it there. Unless his wife was truly an incompetent idiot who shoved the infant into an oven to keep it warm. He couldn't know yet.

... But he would soon. Dismounting from his horse, Cynder allowed himself one final groan of frustration before steeling himself. This estate was too well-kept on the outside. Too clean. Not even the healers' lodgings were this clean. Still, there were no guards outside the door, despite the occupants' obvious wealth. Were there traps inside, or were they simply naive?

...She probably had servants. The house was far too big for her to be fully alone. Great.

He straightened his spine, shaking his head. He was still a prince, and she was a mere merchant's daughter.

Raising a fist, he let out a slow hiss of air from his teeth and banged thrice on the door.

#newsidequest #&; ( lena ic )

Did his new wife open the door to greet him with open arms? No, of course not. Lena had been furious with her father for not only arranging this sham of a marriage in the first place but also actually having all the documents signed without her say?! Yes, she would have fought against it tooth and nail because what gave him the right to do such a thing? What kind of father would do this to his only daughter? If she were a man, would he have had the same response?

"This is why you can't trust a man," Lena had said to her lady-in-waiting, Maeve, as she sat in front of her dressing room mirror, her silk dressing gown trailing behind her. "They will do everything in their power to take away your autonomy and for what?" She had waited too long to settle down? Was it truly such a crime to wait until she found love? Just because her mother and father had married for financial reasons and then later found love in each other didn't mean that she wanted to suffer that same fate.

Maeve brushed her hair, styling it with small ornamental flowers, offering her sympathies. She was older than Lena by about twenty-five years and had long ago married and had children. She was one of the lucky ones who had found a man who cherished her. Yet, Maeve understood Lena's frustrations; to have a husband chosen for her was one thing, but to have that husband be the prince of Valkin of all places was... unfortunate.

Before Maeve could offer those words of wisdom that she was so good at, the booming sound of the front door echoed throughout the house. Lena winced, not from how loud it was, but because it meant that he was here. She whipped her head around to look up at Maeve, eyes pleading.

"It's not too late. I can escape down the vines and flee. And my father won't blame you, not when he favors you so." She had this long-standing theory that her father had a bit of a thing for Maeve but could not act upon it due to her happy marriage. Ever since her mother died twelve years ago, her father had retreated into himself. Despite having crushes or passing fancies, Lena doubted he would ever seek another partner.

Maybe that was why he was suddenly invested in her love life instead.

However, Lena's attempt to plan a last-minute getaway didn't come to fruition, and before she knew it, she was dressed and being led down to the foyer. She grasped the material of her dress, bunching it together angrily before taking a breath and smoothing it out again. The head footman was opening the door, and she had to at least try to be... well, no, she didn't have to pretend to be anything. They were already married, so she could just be herself.

As she saw him standing there, she would not allow herself to feel intimidated even if he towered over her, even if he could take down all of the men in this house combined. With the deal between their fathers, no harm would befall her. That was what she would have to keep telling herself.

"Welcome, Prince Cynder." Fingers itched to grasp her dress again, but she fought it. "I am Magdalena." She'd always hated introductions, but this felt even worse given that she was married to this man she had never laid eyes on until this moment. "I hope your journey from Valkin was a fair one?" She didn't care.

"The end of the week would be perfect," Aidan bowed his head, pausing to finish off the water he'd been given and stand. He handed the glass back to him.

"I shall return soon, then. Thank you for your hospitality --... " He chuckled sheepishly. "Apologies. I gave you my name, but only know you as the shaman."

"Elias." His name was known in the village, so it wasn't anything to hide. Anyway, from their short interaction, Aidan seemed kind and thoughtful and not the type to take advantage of Elias' gift.

Handsome, too.

Not that I'm looking!

He was.

redemptioninterlude

what a strange boy. but why did she feel, too, a certain sense of warmth from him? how she looked at him with a smile that formed warm along her lips, it's a reminder of the fact that he's offering her a way out of THIS DOLLHOUSE. it hits her how sad it felt to be stuck living someone else's adventure, caught within the house at all hours to entertain a girl that would hardly remember her, if she were to be replaced. it's a sickening truth! a maddening reality... and alice had always hoped for more, before she'd been sent away to be picked up here.

and maybe, JUST MAYBE, this was that more.

over the hills, and out we go! he tells her to run as fast as she could, and honestly, she's glad she hadn't left her shoes indoors when she'd had the chance for it, the soles of hers wearing into the gravel and stone. fingers squeezed right back at his, thrilled for the escape that they've made into the DEAD OF NIGHT. she might not know where they're going! but something grand awaited them, she was sure of it. pulling up at her skirts, thrilled for the freedom that became them! jamie's complimenting her, too, as he rattles on about our races, which makes her wonder, oh, where, oh where are you from?

she doesn't know what he's got waiting for her, the idea of a glimpse of a world beyond their own, here. that LONDON was a hunting ground for lost boys looking to recruit the lonely, she understood it, didn't she? the allure of it, of never growing up, she'd understand it, if she knew it, peering past him to where he'd pointed towards the a tree, just there at the edge of things. he mentions a hole ( oh, a rabbit hole? ) that they can squeeze right through, that there's something on the other end that sounded far more interesting than a burrow that they weren't meant to be hiding within.

instead, as they race through the streets, out of breath, clutching at his hand, she's LAUGHING, head back, feeling a trickle of sweat streak down the back of her neck. "i promise. i'll come right back, though i'm awfully curious what might be waiting there." a place only he knows? he does mention more, the our, she wonders what kingdom existed there for he and his to occupy. but perhaps this was not an escape she could make for good, how tragic that was, but if anything, it's given her a renewed interest in fighting, in her escape.

if not with him, than she'll do it, regardless! alice is on her knees, finally catching her breath as she looked to him, finally dropping his hand to wipe sweat from her brow, peering into that very hole he'd mentioned to her. there's something, there, deep down within the earth, on the other side of something. it leaves her near hush, as she looked back to him, and then armed herself with a smile. "SHALL WE then? just a tiny peak! and then we'll be right back. i promise. then, you won't find me there at that house again, okay? i'll take this as a sign. i wasn't made to be locked up and away. but we'll be able to find each other again... in that? i have faith~"

★— ATTN: @dramatiique

#redemptioninterlude #&; ( jamie ic )

He watched the girl as she peered into the hole, not at all seeming too scared by it, but it made sense given that she was older than the boys they usually took here. Those boys would put on a brave face, nervous by the new experience despite being eager for the escape.

“A sign? To run away?”

He could hardly blame her for deciding that. When he’d been here, he’d been left with nothing. Peter told him about his past, saying this and that (some things that made him wonder if he’d been bad while he was in London), but he really couldn’t remember…

Shaking those thoughts from his head because they’d really do him no good and now wasn’t the time, he stepped ahead of Alice. “It looks dark and weird, but it’s really not. Once we’re in, you’ll see there’s a light we can follow.” Which sounded ominous, like a “light at the end of the tunnel," but there was no other way he could think to describe it.

“I’ll go first, so just come in after. It’s not a long walk, so we don’t have to rush.” Jamie lowered himself into the gap at the roots, movements fluid as if he’d done it a thousand times. His head disappeared into the darkness before he called up. “Come down now! I’ll help you!” Not in a chivalrous way or anything, not because he thought girls were weak. Ever since growing up a tiny bit, he didn’t hold the same views on girls as the others did. All of them were just people in the end, weren’t they?

When he saw Alice begin to wiggle her way down through the gap, Jamie kept a respectable distance just until she had lowered enough for him to reach out and steady her. Once she was settled on the loamy floor beneath them, he pointed off down the tunnel.

“See that? The glow? That’s where we have to go. It takes us to Neverland.”

It was good that Alice wanted to head off and do her own thing once she returned, but there was a sort of sadness to it as well. Neverland would have been the perfect place for her to relocate, a place that could offer her adventure and rich experiences that no other place in existence could. As they walked, even with Jamie’s own promise to take her back, he wondered if there was some way they could make an exception. Just this once. If Alice could prove herself in some way to Peter, show him she could be like a Lost Boy, then wouldn’t it be fair to let her stay? It was a complicated thing, one that couldn’t be predicted. Maybe he’d just leave it and see what happened.

“If you left, where would you go? Can you look after yourself?”

Adult responsibilities weren’t something they ever had to worry about in Neverland, but the world they were currently leaving behind couldn’t exist without those. Money, jobs, mortgages, families, and all that boring stuff that would have had the Lost Boys begging for it all to stop. The latter one wasn’t so bad, though. Family. That’s what those boys were to him, and Jamie couldn’t imagine life without them.

Mini hiatus notice from now until the 10th! Going to London for a few days on Monday and I work until then, so I won't be around much until I'm back!

#&; ( out of character )

Yun Jiahao came from a peasant family of farmers but caught the attention of a powerful empress named Li Xuyan, who took him in as her concubinus, often referred to historically as a favorite or a paramour. However, he wasn’t treated as a slave or someone who was only viewed as property. Jiahao was given the proper resources and teachers to learn how to read and write, which then led to him becoming an advisor to the empress. He also discovered that he enjoyed learning so much that he then went on to tutor children and adolescents of the court.

Jiahao is well-respected among his peers and even those of the older generation due to his pleasant disposition. He carries himself with elegance and never raises his voice or loses his temper. He is intelligent, empathetic, and always able to offer advice or lend an ear. He speaks eloquently and has a quiet charm and charisma that gains him many admirers. When it comes to romance, he isn’t shy, but he also isn’t direct. He has duties to uphold, and one of those is being the empress' lover. If he finds love in the future, then he would take appropriate measures to figure out the best approach, but he also isn’t naive to think that it would be easy given his role in the court.

Jiahao enjoys horseback riding, archery, and swordsmanship. His father had already taught him how to defend himself when he was a boy, but he received further lessons upon being taken into Xuyan’s court.

Jiahao and Empress Xuyan get along really well. She is married, but that doesn’t stop her from having Jiahao as a lover. Her husband, Emperor Fei, has a female lover. Surprisingly, Emperor Fei and Jiahao have an amicable relationship, and Emperor Fei enjoys listening to Jiahao tell stories or recite poems.

His main verse is a general fantasy verse. In other verses, Jihao can be a bodyguard for hire for a rich muse (female or male) and can also offer them additional services, such as entertainment through song and storytelling, as well as sexual services if they desire. Outside his main verse, it is up to the other mun whether they want him to have an attachment to the empress or not. He is twenty-six years old.

#&; ( about jiahao )

"I don't think you talk too much," Aidan commented. Maybe it wasn't necessary to reassure the man -- especially if he was a heretic truly forming unnatural pathways with the dead -- but such self-deprecation was unwarranted. A few sentences was hardly an awkwardly long rant.

"It's Aidan," he answered. "And I would appreciate that. I apologize for showing up unprepared."

This man was far too... pleasant to be a heretic, though. Surely, it was some sort of scheme -- even one based in good intentions.

"Aidan... all right, I have some spots open next week if that works for you? Mainly towards the end of the week unless you've traveled far to get here and need more time?"

To Elias, this man was nothing more than a curious fellow who wanted to speak to his departed grandmother. Nothing about him revealed that he was actually secretly investigating Elias and didn't actually agree with what he did. If he'd had any inkling of suspicion, the conversation would have been shut down right away, and Elias would have retreated inside his home.

It was just in his nature to be trusting of others, even if that was quite naïve.

-- Ah, damn. No one had told him that he needed to bring something of hers!

"That is exceedingly generous, not charging anything for what many people would consider a miracle," he commented thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, I don't have any of my grandmother's possessions on me. I will need to head back to my family home to find one, although I have a few in mind..."

He took a sip from his water to hide his frustrated frown. This investigation was supposed to be quick. Now he was going to have to prolong it...

"Might I ask how you discovered this ability?"

"Shamanism runs in our family, and my grandfather was the shaman of this village before me, and his father before him." It had somehow skipped Elias's own father, and, apparently, it wasn't uncommon for an ability like that to skip a generation even though nobody knew why.

"When he died, it wasn't long before I was talking to him in my bedroom. I think that was more to do with his ability, though, rather than my own. He was the one doing all of the work at that time." His grandfather had found a way to show himself in the mortal realm, but only for a brief moment and only to those with the ability. "After that, I began to learn more about it all and practiced until I was able to let him talk through me."

Elias paused and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I sometimes get carried away when I talk." And he knew he didn't need to go into so much detail, but it really depended on who he was talking to. His friend, Elaine, said that he was naïve at times, too trusting... perhaps she was right, but this man seemed kind.

"What's your name, sir? If you're to come back with your grandmother's item, I can give you an appointment that will work best for you." He would have to slot it among the others.

Aidan chuckled, shaking his head.

"A little of everything," he admitted, voice fond. "She was a socialite mainly. An artist with the charisma to open doors that shouldn't have to someone of her social class. She didn't even marry my grandfather. Not in a church, at least."

Ah, but he was getting distracted with reminiscing.

"May I ask how this...works?" he inquired. "I've heard far too many tales of charlatans working as a false mouthpiece for the deceased. You must forgive me if I am hopeful but maintain a dose of health skepticism."

"She sounds rebellious." He smiled, already trying to picture what the woman might have been like in life. Elias had a lot of respect for people who went against the grain and didn't try to fit into what society expected of them. Maybe it was because he was like that, even though he didn't think he had the same ability to open doors. If anything, he'd probably isolated himself with what he did.

He didn't mind, though.

As the man queried his abilities, Elias wasn't offended. He understood there were many imposters out there who promised one thing and then fled with the money given by the grieving. It was sick and twisted, and he did not wish to be mistaken as one of those.

"Well, first, I don't charge for that. I make a living through funeral services and the wares I sell." But he didn't charge for someone to get in contact with their deceased loved one, even if it did take a toll on Elias' body if he did it too frequently.

"If I have an object that the deceased person owned—it has to be a special one... a prized one—and a description of them that would help me search the afterlife, then the object acts as a beacon for them to find me through the darkness, like a lighthouse guiding the spirit to me. However, I require a description because some of the spirits are tricksters who like to possess even when they aren't called upon." Which could be dangerous because it often meant they were up to no good and wanted to do harm in the world of the living.

"The only information I'd need is a physical description and a name." He didn't need family history or anything because when he found the correct spirit, they would then take over and talk through him to their loved one.

Why was that cat the most unsettling thing he had ever faced? He had fought cultists!

"--No harm done," he chuckled, accepting the water as he moved to join him on the bench. "Thank you for the water. I'll admit, I'm...not quite sure to expect," he confessed.

He cleared his throat and paused to take a sip of the water, letting out a soft sigh of relief. He had been quite thirsty; he had simply been too focused on the task at hand to realize it.

Then he began, "My grandmother has been long gone for decades now. She passed when I was just a boy. Peacefully in her sleep, although she would likely have been disappointed to suffer such a normal end." He chuckled. "If the woman could have gone out in a blaze of glory fighting dragons, she would have."

He listened to what the other said, his eyebrows pulling together when he mentioned his grandmother had passed. It didn't matter if it had been decades; it was still a horrible thing. It did make Elias wonder what might have brought the man all this way to their village to seek him out, though. His clients were usually suffering from a recent loss and came to him in a desperate attempt to soothe their fresh grief.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Even if it's been a long time that grief doesn't ever fully disappear." He looked out across the garden, gaze drifting to some of his plants that weren't quite as high maintenance as some of the others.

"What did she do when she lived?" He asked, curious to know more even if this conversation didn't lead to his services being used. Elias was just the sort to genuinely be interested in other people's stories. "Unless you're about to tell me she really was a dragon hunter."

redemptioninterlude

he wants to keep an eye on her, doesn't he? somehow, she's not surprised! he seems to want to keep his finger on the pulse, he's looking for CONTROL, and how strange, because as she saw it, from where she sat... light was the kind of person who already had all of that, set. the world on a string, a master puppeteer! but was it all getting boring for him? was that what so deeply haunted him into a chase, a run, for something that marked itself as so clearly a danger, and yet, foolishly, despite how clever he was, he seemed to fall for the basic folly of power, promised. but was that it? why does alice sense a catch, a thread, that was begging to be pulled?

what would she UNRAVEL, she wondered!

targeting criminals. she wonders. did someone do him fundamentally wrong that he felt was a criminal? who did he even consider the audience, really? as judged before the court of law? as by the public? or by his eye, and his eye ONLY? "no~ why would i want to kill anybody? i suppose unlike the finality of your use, i've always seem human beings not as vessels of good, or evil, but one of understanding. how willingly you embrace your truth is a matter for yourself to discover. most don't~ and that's a tragedy. but it's funny how the people who do the worst things as seen by others, are the most truthful in the acknowledgement of their crimes. it's the people doing awful things and claiming otherwise, well..." her gaze flickered to his. a smile. "... you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

hypocrite. liar. she saw both of those things in him. but he's telling her it's time to go, and she's halfway done her coffee, pouting. left to drain it all with an impressive speed, head tilting, drink back, she's groaning as more of it fills her stomach. oh well. tummy ache for later! "you'll walk me home?" to the place where she stays, she supposes~ alice and her distant family, gathering her things to go as she let him pay. the both of them out the door, and left to face the fading efforts of the sun, her arms swinging with every step. "here." she gave him the address, sent to his phone. "i generally walk, it's about 17 minutes from here. is that ok? otherwise, i don't mind. the place isn't that bad, it just looks that way~" step, by step. "are you an only child? with family? why criminals?"

★— ATTN: @dramatiique

#redemptioninterlude #&; ( light ic )

He didn't answer as she spoke because it felt like she was trying to poke and prod him until his frustration got the better of him. Fine. Let Alice talk herself until she had no words left (if that were possible), and he'd see where it got her. He could be patient, even if it might appear the opposite.

Once the conversation had steered away from whatever "truths" Alice was trying to pull out of him and focused more on the here and now, Light looked down at his phone that suddenly lit up. He wanted to reprimand her for sharing her address so freely with someone like him but kept those words from making it off his tongue. They both knew Light himself wasn't the type to hunt down someone in their home and kill them with his own hands, so having her address wasn't a big deal. He had her name and face, which was all that was needed.

"It's fine. It's on my way home." He wondered why he was accompanying her. When she said she didn't plan on revealing the Death Note and his intentions to anyone, as ridiculous as it sounded, Light actually believed her. So, why the prolonged social contact? Maybe part of him was curious about her? How could he not be after the way she'd behaved today? Whatever the case, it wasn't something he wanted to dive too deeply into right now.

However, when the questions prying into his personal life began, Light wondered if agreeing to walk her had been a mistake after all. "No. I have a little sister. A mom and dad, too." A family that was actually happy with parents who were still together without the threat of divorce hanging over them. A sister who Light got along with, even when she did annoying little sister things. The only thing he didn't feel like telling Alice was the fact that his dad was the Chief of the Japanese National Police Agency; it would probably make her break down in a fit of laughter right here on the street due to the irony of it all.

"Why criminals? Didn't we go over this?" Was she going to keep asking until she got the answer she wanted to hear? "Because they're criminals, and what better way to use this power than on those who deserve it?" Before she could reply, Light held up a hand. "Let's not talk in circles. I said what I said, and I won't repeat it. Tell me about your family."

This man was disarmingly polite. Of course, looks and initial behaviors could be deceiving -- and he was responding as though he already knew the nature of Aidan's request. Perhaps he was a con? If so, it was none of Aidan's business to expose him. He could only intervene if there were truly unnatural things about --

A pair of wide, unblinking eyes in the window startled Aidan before he could answer.

"--Oh!" Oh, Holy Light, it was a cat. It was just a cat. Although, in retrospect the cat might have been the most suspicious thing about the entire affair. Laughing a little, he placed a hand over his pounding heart, nodding towards the window. "Your little friend surprised me. Yes, water would be wonderful, thank you."

Imhotep was leaning half out the window now, leering at their visitor, which earned him a disapproving look from Elias. As if that would change Imhotep's judgemental glare.

"Imhotep tends to surprise people," he said with a sheepish smile. "I promise he isn't scary. Not unless you deny him his fish; then he gets really moody." Like a toddler having a tantrum.

He headed inside to grab a pitcher that had been cooling and filled a glass with it. When he returned, he saw that Imhotep was now outside and circling the newcomer.

"Your Majesty, please mind your manners around our guest." He gestured for the man to come sit on the bench, holding his water out for him. "Sorry about him. He does this with everyone he doesn't know." And now the cat was sitting directly in front of Aidan, staring up at him with those big, unblinking eyes.