... C̲A̲S̲T̲ㅤ⁽ ᴹᴱ⁾ㅤ𝐴𝑊𝐴𝑌,

ᶠᵃᵗᵉ ㅤㅤ&̲ ㅤㅤᵈᵉˢᵗⁱⁿʸㅤㅤㅤ... areㅤㅤnoㅤㅤ(ㅤ𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒆ㅤ)

[excalibiur]

*̷ this isn't about me, though. it's about saving the world ... and you. ━━━━ a mutuals-only & low activity multimuse writing blog featuring canon muses from their respective sources, following canon compliant alongside personal headcanons and original characters of various medias and tropes.

Visit Original Link

         # 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒖𝒓 ( ¹ ) rules, ( ² ) muses, ( ³ ) prompts, ( ⁴ ) mains & exclusives, ( ⁵ ) sideblog, affiliated with » @praesparo , @eueclid & @bllakcat/@sarastuss

current muse priority ... aerith gainsborough, anakin skywalker, anna marie lebeau, arthur pendragon, athan beaumont, barbie roberts, clive rosfield & jester lavorre.

[excalibiur]

for the time being, i've moved aerith to her own solo blog hehe. beginning 2025 in my aerith solo blog era. so, if you'd like to see more of her, she's currently found at — @gainscient

[excalibiur]

for the time being, i've moved aerith to her own solo blog hehe. beginning 2025 in my aerith solo blog era. so, if you'd like to see more of her, she's currently found at — @gainscient

[excalibiur]

the lara cr.oft color scheme? ma'am, i see you and i thank you.

[excalibiur]

@wovetales, glinda upland ... ❝ if you need my help, i'm here for you.   ❞

                        shiz university is everything barbie has ever dreamt of and so much more — a dazzling dreamscape threaded with the twists and turns of a labyrinth she has yet to master. standing at the heart of the bustling courtyard, barbie clutches her copy of the campus map, turning it this way and that way in a valiant effort to orient herself. the endeavour, however, proves futile and with a soft sigh of exasperation, she presses the map against her waist as her frustration is punctuated by a sharp stomp of a single pink pump. and then she sees her — a vision of familiarity, almost like a reflection gliding towards her with effortless poise, dressed head-to-toe in pink.

❝ oh dear, do i really look as lost as i feel?   ❞ she asks softly, her cheeks blooming with a delicate shade of pink from such embarrassment. ❝ it's my first day, and i'm all sorts of turned around. i'm looking for the dormitories?   ❞ with a touch of hope, she holds out her map — the edges slightly crinkled from her anxious grip — in a silent plea for guidance from the stranger in pink. but not without firstly, her gaze drifts to the stranger's impeccably chic dress and a small, admiring smile adorns barbie's lips. ❝ i love your dress, by the way. is that a standard shiz uniform?   ❞

[sarastuss]

WHERE YOU WALK, : FATE SHALL SURELY FOLLOW. that is how it has always been, though this never - ending journey is of her own making ... she wonders just how much of this path has been carved for her. she was protected for a reason, to be woken up again when the time came, when it was destined.

@excalibiur + sephiroth : " there is no destiny . no born heroes. "

SO THESE WORDS CARVE, : REACHING SOMETHING SO DEEP. he speaks the words with such conviction, firm belief in each word. ... teeth grit together, tongue bitten lightly. ( it makes one think, does it not, hero? ) SHE WHO WAS A HERO BEFORE THERE WAS A NEED FOR THEM, there is knowledge now that those actions taken sparked certainty in her mentor, when the time came. when she became something more, &. made her successor her champion. ... fingers wrap around her sword tighter, leather squeaks ever so gently. ❝ perhaps not, ❞ divine voice dipped into a firm tune, even when a foe so great faced ; SHE DID NOT BACK AWAY. ( when would she? death would claim her before such event. ) ... ❝ but it does not change my course. ❞ on the contrary, it only fuels the flames. yes, that makes for a heavy heart, when loss is discovered upon such path, she knows. to know each decision made is her own, is something that is both encouraging, where it is weighed down by responsibility. ❝ and it only speaks of the bravery of those, who step into the role. no matter how much it demands from them. ❞ a subtle hint ; even should she fall one day, there were those who stood in defiance of calamity.

[excalibiur]

                        heroes are neither born nor forged; they are but mere illusions conjured by forces unseen. for those who wear the mantle, are but pawns in another's grander design, wielded until they fracture — their essence distorted and discarded, their purpose extinguished and their light fades into oblivion, only to be supplanted by another in an unending cycle. the ashes of nibelheim cling fresh to pale skin, the acrid smoke darkens the edges of silvery locks and crimson stains mark flesh where no wound resides. this world is new, its contours unfamiliar, and this body is reborn too, shaped only to fulfil a singular purpose. yet, the path is fraught with unforeseen challenges, born of land unfamiliar still rendered futile by its nature. a calamity has rotted through its heart, devouring much that the planet lacks sustenance.

the so-called hero stands before him, with bold proclamations filling the air. sephiroth responds first with a sharp scoff, only for it to twist into a sudden, unrestrained laugh — dark and haunting, echoing without restraint. ❝ then, perhaps ...   ❞ he begins, his voice a low, silken mockery, ❝ ... you should consider altering your course.   ❞ with a single, deliberate stride, they bridge the distance between them, his movements unnervingly fluid. his gaze flickers, feline pupils narrowing as they meet hers — perhaps he notices the resolute grip she holds upon her blade, or perhaps he does and finds no reason for alarm. ❝ the path is never as linear as they would have you believe, you would do well to wander freely while the choice still remains yours.   ❞

his stare remains fixed, piercing and unrelenting, as though intent on unravelling the fabric of her light, to lay bare to her soul. she speaks with conviction, yet sephiroth suppresses the urge of open scoff, his disdain simmering just beneath the surface. there is no place for heroes in any world — for they are unworthy of salvation. they exist to be reshaped, moulded for a purpose far greater, one left to be fulfilled by him. jenova's voice, like a serpentine whisper, weaves through his ears and coils within his mind. ❝ tell me, hero,   ❞ he intones, ❝ why do you stand to protect, what would not return the favor?   ❞

[eueclid]

it's officially past midnight in scotland so i can now say HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WORLD!!! btw that pic is us if u even care. i never expected to make as good of a friend as i've found in you on tumblr, let alone my best friend but MAN am i glad i've met you. it feels like i've known you my whole entire life and i still hold that it isn't fair that we had to meet as adults instead of five year olds in school because we're just so similar and not to get sappy on dash but FIVE YEAR OLD CHLOE AND BLYTHE DESERVED IT. better late than never tho because our meeting story is truly iconic. i hope today is amazing, that you get to play all the video games you want and eat all the pizza you want, that the doggies are good to you today, and that you enjoy your slime. I LOVE YOU BEST FRIEND ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ @excalibiur

[donner-maysilee]

DAVID CORENSWET & RACHEL BROSNAHAN as CLARK KENT & LOIS LANE Superman (2025) dir. James Gunn

[satellitewar]

they stop walking again, and rex takes the opportunity to switch arms — he moves his helmet to the opposite slot against his side and grips the helmet's rim with a firm, gloved hand. "yes, general," he agrees, and the faintest smile appears on his lips in response (just a twitch, a sign — something @excalibiur is probably excellent at recognizing). "i thought it would be better to simply ask rather than leave you in the dark. perhaps this was the rare time you do agree with general kenobi after all."

the two have a good banter, a good relationship built on ages and ages of trust. too many battles have decided too many fates, and the jedi knight and his clone captain have seen both the best and the worst of what the galaxy has to offer. aligned, they are nearly unstoppable. rex greatly appreciates this eternal fact. there's no need to pester the general about his dealings in private, or about whether or not said dealings go against the jedi code. rex isn't a jedi. he's not here to babysit anakin. the jedi knight can do whatever he pleases, and rex, loyal as ever, will stay by his side through it all. that's a guarantee.

"i don't know, general. i believed our next move involved contacting general kenobi." finally, the smile emerges on his lips. rex is humored by the bump to his shoulder, as physical gestures like that are few and far between. it's amusing. it feels... normal to do things like that. "in this special case, however, perhaps we should examine our own infiltration plan instead. you do like surprises, general skywalker," rex adds.

[excalibiur]

                        ❝ hm, no ... not quite there yet, buddy. guess it's just another ordinary rotation.   ❞ the sly smirk remains lingering on his face. it's not defiance that drives him to disobey obi-wan, nor spite. it's something else entirely, for the most part. he simply sees paths others wouldn't dare tread, routes unconventional yet potent enough to turn the tide of battle. where most jedi balk at such audacity, anakin skywalker thrives. he's not your standard jedi — neither are his troops a standard batch. together, he and rex form an unbreakable unit, bound by mutual trust. no matter the dangers ahead, anakin can always relay on one absolute certainty: his captain will always have and be watching his back.

anakin withdraws his hand from rex's shoulder, to cross his arms over his chest once more. rex's smile emerges, burning the spark of anticipation within him — the thrill of heading back into the fray. even amid the horrors of war, witnessing unspeakable conflict, enduring the ache of loss — anakin makes effort to offer his men something more, in small moments of joy to ease the burden. if that meant crafting little games, like seeing who could tally the most droid heads in exchange for the better rations, then so be it. ❝ i'm sure obi-wan wouldn't want us to disturb him, not if he's focusing on the situation planetside.   ❞

he clicks his tongue, special case, rex is right there and anakin points a finger toward him, nodding in approval. ❝ perhaps you're right. see rex, this is why i keep you around.   ❞ he warmly chuckles, ❝ and if we're to gain the upper hand, stealth might be our best best. the element of surprise just might be what we need to turn this all in our favor.   ❞ his tone shifts effortlessly into the firm cadence of a seasoned general. there's a sharp focus brewing. ❝ knowing obi-wan, he'll soon order a retreat when the separatist forces start to press too hard. that's when we make our move.   ❞

[greenelightaaaaa]

her   sudden   outburst   does   surprise   him   a   bit   ,   but   mason   doesn't   blame   her   for   it   at   all.   he   could   never   understand   how   she   feels   about   this   situation   ,   how   her   abilities   make   it   difficult   to   make   physical   connections   with   others   with   that   constant   fear   &   possibility   of   hurting   them   if   she's   not   careful.   no   one   could   ever   hope   to   understand   her   struggles   since   they   are   so   unique   ,   so   he   doesn't   react   negatively   to   her   frustration   ,   keeping   the   tissue   box   offered   until   she   finally   takes   a   few   in   lieu   of   something   to   hold.   the   sight   of   it   pains   him.   ❝   don't   apologize.   you're   upset.   i'd   be   pissed   if   i   was   in   your   shoes.   ❞   but   he's   not   in   her   shoes   ,   is   he   ?   sayings   like   that   do   nothing   to   help   her   in   the   long   run   ,   &   at   the   mention   of   her   supposed   first   kiss   with   that   boy   she   knew   ages   ago   ,   he   winces   ,   recalling   how   that   was   how   she   discovered   her   powers   in   the   first   place.   what   an   awful   way   to   find   out   you   have   special   abilities   .   .   .   it's   no   wonder   why   anna   marie   is   so   damn   traumatized.   she   doesn't   want   history   to   repeat   itself.

at   the   mention   of   sebastian   ,   he   balks   for   a   moment   ,   blushing   when   he   realizes   that   he   hasn't   exactly   been   subtle   when   it   comes   to   their   texting these past few weeks.   they   met   at   a   bar   in   london   when   he   was   out   hanging   with   friends   &   now   they   keep   close   communication   with   one   another   despite   the   ocean   apart   ,   even   going   as   far   as   sleeping   together   over   facetime   ,   even   with   the   time   difference.   would   you   be   willin'   to   risk   his   safety   ,   always   keepin'   him   at   arm's   length   ,   just   to   say   he's   yours   ?   rogue's   words   ring   in   his   mind   briefly   &   he   doesn't   even   take   the   time   to   let   them   truly   resonate.   without   a   moment   of   hesitation   ,   he   turns   to   her   ,   clutching   at   his   phone   as   if   it   was   sebastian's   hand   ,   wishing   he   was   here   so   he   could   have   some   semblance   of   supports.   ❝   yes.   ❞   easier   said   than   done   of   course   ,   so   he   elaborates.   ❝   i   know   people   think   physical   touch   is   everything   &   it is   nice   ,   but   it's   not   the   important   thing.   love   is   caring   &   being   there   for   one   another.   sharing   laughter   &   stories ,   likes   &   dislikes   .   .   .   enjoying   each   other's   company   &   being   there   when   things   get   hard.   ❞   mason   smiles   ,   keeping   his   phone   close   to   his   chest.   ❝   love   is   anything   you   want   it   to   be   ,   but   it   doesn't   need   to   have   touch.   many   people   have   love   &   cannot   touch   for   other   reasons   &   manage   it   well.   you   are   a   careful   person   ,   ann.   you   would   never   ,   ever   hurt   remy   ,   i   know   that.   ❞   mason   wishes   he   could   hug   her   ,   give   her   some   comfort   ,   but   instead   ,   he   just   scoots   a   touch   closer   to   show   his   support   ,   though   not   too   close   that   she   may   grow   fearful.   ❝   if   anything   ,   just   tell   him   how   you   feel.   how   scared   you   are   ,   but   how   you   care   for   him   dearly.   love   is   also   about   communication   ,   about   figuring   things   out   together.   ❞   he   sighs.   ❝   you   won't   know   what's   possible   until   you   try   ,   ann.   won't   you   at   least   try   ?   ❞

[excalibiur]

                        of all the people she could've ran into before — when she had no home, no shoulder to lean on, and no soul to turn to — she's eternally grateful to fate, or whatever unseen force shapes their lives for bringing mason to her. he's always been there, never shrinking away from the truth, and has been more than just a good friend to her — he's someone who deeply cares. he listens intently as she bares her heart, laying her innermost thoughts on the table, unfiltered and raw. she could never bring herself to speak of such delicate matters with anyone else, her walls had been built too high, the foundation seemingly impenetrable, yet mason somehow always found a way through.

brick by brick, he dismantled her defences, creating a space in which she feels safe, a refuge she treasures more than words can convey. she hadn't meant to let her tone sharpen — it wasn't directed at him — but she knows how she can sound at times. still, he understands her, never taking it personally, and she's grateful for his patience. he never holds her missteps against her ... and truth be told, anna marie has given him plenty of reasons to. she seizes the brief moment to compose herself and clean her face, not anticipating mason's response to come so swiftly.

peering over to him, fully attuned as he elaborates on the quickness of his answer — on what love could be, beyond the boundaries of impossibility she longs for. there's a familiar echo in his words, something that reminds her of remy — the same reasoning he's offered when she's fortified the empty space between them. ❝ sounds like you're real sweet on this fella. i'll try not to act all hurt that you still ain't introduced us yet.   ❞ she nudges a joke into the solemn weight of their conversation. mason shifts closer, the small gesture warming her chest, and her heart doesn't quite leap as it might have once. wanting to convey her gratitude for his unwavering kindness, rogue does something almost unthinkable: she reaches out, slow and deliberate, her gloved hand coming to rest lightly against his knee.

she matches his sigh, but however nods in reluctant agreement. as much as it pains her, knowing even the smallest slipup could have devastating consequences — her powers show no mercy. the lightest graze could knock remy unconscious, leaving her caught in the whirlwind of his memories and the overwhelming flood of his powers. and yet, for mason, she's willingly to try — partly to keep from disappointing him. ❝ i don't ever wanna hurt him, not ever, you're right about that. ❞ she admits, her voice quieter and tinged with vulnerability. ❝ i still don't know how this is supposed to work, ya know? we can't touch ... but that don't mean i don't desperately want to.   ❞ her teeth catch her bottom lip, ❝ but you ain't given me a good enough reason not to give it a shot. how come, whenever i'm with you, you always seem to know just what to say? you sure you ain't some kinda mind-readin' mutie, mason?   ❞

[excalibiur]

i lied, here's a compilation of lois "can't spell for shit" lane. she hates spellchecker, she hates grammarly and too right she fucking despises ai.

[excalibiur]

lois is undiagnosed dyslexic and will make several spelling mistakes, but claims she doesn't trust the red squiggle line indicating there's an error and will continue. regardless, she's still a pulitzer prize winner for her article: "why the world needs superman." she's also undiagnosed adhd, girl can hyperfocus in on an article for days and forget to do just about everything else. she binges a lot of trashy reality tv as background noise while she works. she prefers her coffee black but hey, she may accidentally drink your coffee and regardless how different it is, she probably doesn't even notice. she always has about twelve pens in her purse, alongside a portable charger and a spare. if you ask her while within earshot of clark who her favorite superhero is, she will answer batman. and once she's blessed you with a nickname, she'll very rarely call you by your actual name ever again, you will forever be known by that nickname.

[praesparo]

                    as if it wasn't difficult enough to find peaceful parts of his day to tinker, percy now has to contest with an entirely new group parading around his home. he could already feel the migraine burrowing itself in the centre of his mind. they were an interesting bunch, far more diverse than he felt vox machina were in any case. percy also struggled to understand their motives other than fucking around & finding out. they weren't nearly as heroic, or at least acted like it, despite how their pile of deeds seemed to be growing. he hadn't heard of them, of course, but he has already heard the brief stories from fjord earlier.

                    ❝ i hear you perfectly fine! are you seriously that bored? shouldn't you be restocking your healing kit or something? ❞ he questions, completely stunned by her sudden appearance & company still. she was amusing, albeit poorly timed. his expression stiffens a little as one hand lifts to touch his own cheek self consciously. ❝ what? i'm not that old. still in my prime, thank you.  ❞ he defends himself optimistically, knowing full well that his twilight years are on the horizon. he sighs under his breath to raise the pepperbox into full view. ❝ i'm making repairs to my weapon. it's been a while since i've needed to use it so i'm making sure it still works before we head out to help you lot.  ❞ he rambles, eventually lowering it before looking her up & down. ❝ you don't look like much of a cleric, if i'm being honest. are you sure it's what you do? ❞

[excalibiur]

                        boredom is far too mild a word to capture how jester's feeling. she has never been one to tolerate being confined to a single place, not since leaving nicodranas and the solitude of the lavish chateau, especially when the world beyond these stone walls teems with untold adventures waiting to be seized — more so in these unfamiliar plains. yet, by coming here in search of aid — though, truthfully, their insistence left little room to refuse — she finds herself bound to wait. these so-called legendary heroes and their endlessly deliberating advisors must first piece together a plan that satisfies them all. until then, jester's restless spirit remains tethered, chafing against the constraints.

and so, unfortunately, percival de rolo, lord of the house, has become victim to her endless curiosity. ❝ you don't look like it.   ❞ she plainly says, one sapphire-hued finger gesturing towards his silvered hair. ❝ what are you, like, a hundred? do humans even live that long?!   ❞ before, her attention is swiftly stolen by the intricate piece of tinkering he brings into view. the tiefling leans in, keen-eyed and uninviting to inspect the curious device more closely, fascination eclipsing all else.

❝ woah! i've never seen a weapon like this before!   ❞ she exclaims, canting her head as fingers twitch with the temptation to prod the unfamiliar metal exterior. ❝ soooo, like, what does it do? oh, oh, oh! does it make fire? that would be pretty cool if it did.   ❞ as words spill forth in eager succession, her hands idly drift towards his worktop, quietly rearranging the tiny tools with an air of innocent mischief — hoping, of course, that he doesn't notice. but she halts halfway, his comment about her cleric abilities striking a nerve, and with a dramatic gasp, she plants both hands firmly on hips. ❝ oh! so i don't look like a cleric? kinda like how you don't look like an old man!   ❞ jester retorts, ❝ but guess what? i am the cleric! the cleric of the mighty nein! i've saved their butts sooooo many times — you wouldn't even believe it! ❞

[eueclid]

“ Woah there, you’re acting like you haven’t had to sneak anywhere before, and I know that’s bullshit. ” Okay, he’s overreacting. Joel feels like it’s justified though — he’s lost too many people, and he’s not too keen on losing @excalibiur too. He lets out a quiet sigh, pressing past Lara and peeking his head around the door. “ C’mon, before we actually have to be sneaky. I want to avoid clickers if it’s possible. ”

[excalibiur]

                        ❝ sneaking around has never quite been my forte.  ❞ the lady croft remarks, as she sweeps her braid over her shoulder, letting it cascade with a graceful fall down her back. still, she supposes she could humor joel for the moment — play along with his methods. at least, until his way inevitably steers them into the familiar throes of chaos. her fingers instinctively skim the cool metal of her twin pistols at her sides, a silent and subtle reassurance as joel brushes by her.

she nods with a soft hum of acknowledgement, as thoughts briefly drift. once, an archaeologist who found comfort among the dead, weaving history together from the fragments left behind, but those days are long gone. replaced by a world where the dead no longer rest — where they roam with insatiable hunger, ravenous, untethered and without a tomb.

❝ that's quite the if, texan.   ❞ she quips with a short chuckle, then mirroring joel's movements as she leans around the doorframe to garner a look, albeit by having to raise onto her toes to look over joel's shoulder. ❝ would you be willingly to wager your rations on that there if?   ❞

[excalibiur]

I AM NEVER GOING TO FINANCIALLY RECOVER FROM THIS. CHLOE FOUND CRYING IN A POOL OF HER OWN TEARS OVER THE POWER OF LOIS & CLARK.

[sarastuss]

EVEN IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT, : RAYS OF SUN MAKE AN APPEARANCE WITHIN HER SMILE, slight as it was, it was embedded with so much depth ; brought forth by the heartfelt gratitude. &. the warrior of light nods her head in acknowledgement, dimly glowing hues remained upon his features, taking in every detail. ... THERE GETS TO BE ONLY A SHORT STRETCH OF SILENCE, with gazes exchanged, 'till he spoke again. &. it is a query to be expected ; the similiar state shared once by her as well, the search for answers something she understood. &. who better to ask than someone, who has been through the same? ... yet it is something that changes something within GOLDEN HUES, A DIFFERENT GLIMMER WITHIN. gaze averts to the flames for a moment, as thoughtful expression decorates her features ; his voice still reaches her ears as he speaks further. ... ( well hero? aren't you going to answer? )

IT SEEMS SHE HELD HER TONGUE FOR A MOMENT TOO LONG, : AS ONCE MORE SHE HEARS HIS VOICE, tugging her away from the depths of her mind. something warm even felt again sparking within her chest with the latter statement ; the glow within her eyes a hint brighter. ❝ no ─  ❞ ethereal glimmer searches for his gaze again, her response quick though spoken softly, ❝ i mean that no, you did not overstep any boundaries. ❞ SHE QUICKLY ADDS, perhaps a note of embarassment in her angelic tune. ( given how quick she had sought to correct such thoughts. ) ... another glance stolen at the starry sky, ❝ it is just, ... a long story. ❞ AN UNDERSTATEMENT, with a soul centuries old. for another silent moment she contemplates, how to dress it all? ... ❝ i was without my memories as long as, ❞ you woke up again? she trailed off, deciding it was the best to address it in a different way, but still as the very truth. ❝ when this long journey of mine began. the day i became the warrior of light. ❞ golden hues drifts to the flames, before they return to look upon him once more. ❝ how i lost them ... ❞ flashes of the destruction, the despair around ; THE SKY LIT AFLAME! the final days, &. the shattering of the star to all these realms. &. the very maker of such act, protecting the future champion of hers, to the best she could. she is the same, but not all could be spared. immortality &. memories taken ; but at least she remained true to who she was. unlike those twisted by time, keeping their immortality yet losing their humanity as the price. ❝ it was in a battle, of sorts. ❞ how else should she word it? so much burden upon his shoulder, all of this confusing as it is ... she wanted to avoid to adding more to that. ❝ as to how i got them back, i have the power of the echo to thank. that and, ... meeting someone i used to know, in the past. ❞ THOUGH AS SHE SPOKE THE WORDS, SHE REALIZED THE STRUGGLE ; this young boy he keeps seeing, the very key to this all ... he is unknown, &. the two are left without any clues as to where could they even begin the search for him.

[excalibiur]

                        beneath a sky stitched with unfamiliar stars for the second time tonight, clive holds his breath, caught in the anxious grip of uncertainty. fearing he may have treaded too close to a boundary he ought not to cross. a deep, gnawing dread stirs within him, a shadow of old wounds almost compelling him to flinch, scars upon his back thrum with hollow anticipation of pain that never comes. when sarastus breathes her first quiet no, his gaze wavers, and an apology rises to the precipice of his lips, but does not escape, held unspoken as she elaborates.

and just like that, her angelic voice sweeps over him, dissipating his unease and drawing his cobalt eyes back to her with tenderness. he doesn't merely just glance at her, but truly sees her, captivated by her presence. her words carry a quiet strength. ❝ we have all evening, sarastus. take your time, the dawn will not interrupt.   ❞ an invitation of encouragement for her to speak as freely or sparingly as she chooses. as she begins, her words unravel like a familiar painting — mirroring journey of his own. a shared beginning, in a land devoid of memory, where the past is nothing but a fleeting, hat-faded touch, tantalizing near yet just out of reach.

noting the faraway look glazing her eyes, clive moves without hesistation, rising from where he's been sitting, to settle beside her on the cool grass.  ❝ it's all right ...   ❞ the assurance in his whisper floats on the breeze, soft and steady. his hand, encased in weathered leather finds hers in gesture, resting gently atop.   ❝ and this power ... do you still possess it?   ❞

his question is laced with something more than curiosity  — fragile hope. by tapping into the elusive power of her echo, and seeking the boy whose shadow lingers in every corner of his mind, what has been lost might be restored. ❝ if only i knew who we was ... what his name is ... and why i feel he is far more important than what's already apparent.   ❞ his brows knit with frustration, the weight of unanswered questions bearing down. and yet, beneath the ache of the unknown, an unshakable certainty remains. that no matter the cost, he is meant to shield this boy with all he is. ❝ and why he is all i can remember of what came before.   ❞

[wineassassin]

"i have a request." sebastian scrunches his nose and lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling, as he finds @excalibiur's gaze and clasps his hands together. "that sweater you made for me... it has to be the best thing i've ever worn. it's extraordinary. it's soft, it's warm, it holds heat in, it fits me like a glove." he could go on and on, but he stops for barbie's sake and extracts a sheepish grin from his bearded face. "not to mention mason loves it on me, too, and that's huge. that's a big deal. so if i... i'd pay you to make me another one, barbie, but could you? the last one was a gift, and i can't imagine how long it took you to make that one for me — so i'll pay you for your troubles and for the material, too, just..." still pleading, still clasping his hands together, he bats a pair of puppy dog eyes at his friend and prays for mercy. "please. i would love a second sweater so i don't have to wear the first one over and over. i'll even —" he's scrambling for other ways to convince her, his grin growing, "— i'll make you and ken dinner one night. my treat. i'll be like your private chef for a nice date night. please, barbie? just one more sweater for your dear friend bastian?"

[excalibiur]

                        with a deft flick of her finger, a cheery chime bursts from her phone's speaker — juicy! — a playful proclamation courtesy of the app she's been idly toying with. the sound scarcely has time to linger before sebastian's voice cuts through, laden with an urgency that catches her attention. ❝ oh? this sounds pretty serious. i'm all ears.   ❞ she responds, thumb tapping the phone to lock it with a soft tap before she sets it delicately beside her on the couch she's claimed — one belonging to sebastian and mason. shifting slightly, she turns toward him, head tilting just so, brows alight with intrigue.

ah, she remembers that sweater well. lovingly crafted mere days before his birthday, each stitch a gesture of affection. she had stolen glances at his measurements — nothing obtrusive, just the subtle observation of the way he moves, the slope of his shoulders, the cadence of his posture. hearing him praise its comfort and the affection it draws from mason, has her heart swelling with satisfaction. but when his request tumbles out, her eyes widen, bright and startled — a clash of exhilaration and disbelief. ❝ pay me? don't be so ridiculous!   ❞ there's a light laugh in her voice, ❝ i could never take payment, least of all from you!   ❞

in a flurry of motion, she springs to her feet and retrieves her purse from where it had rested on the floor, her fingers diving into its depth until she finds it — her tailors tape, always at the ready, and of a light pink hue no less. ❝ it's no trouble, bastian. none at all. ❞ she's earnest, enthusiasm bubbling over into every syllable. ❝ in fact, i'd love to make you another one!   ❞ barbie unwinds the tape, already closing the space between them with short, eager steps.

❝ and this time, i won't have to guesstimate your measurements. it'll be even more perfect than the last! now, what color were you thinking? ❞ she pauses for a beat, ❝ might i suggest pink? it would look lovely on you. or, oh! what about green for mason? i think he'd adore that. or perhaps ...   ❞ she increases in pitch, ❝ i should just make you a whole new wardrobe of sweaters! every color you could possibly dream of!   ❞ the suggestion is wild, whimsical, yet said with sincerity that it feels almost inevitable. as she tilts her head far back to meet sebastian's gaze — her shorter frame eclipsed by his — her smile softens into something tender. ❝ and for the record, you don't need to offer me anything in return. as much as i adore your cooking, i'm happy to do this for you.   ❞