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fetuum

She wasn’t usually the clumsy sort, while not officially trained she could look after herself and others if it was necessary to do so. It was just a small mishap, could have happened to anyone really, trained or not. Sitting outside the Chamomile Apartment complex, a reddened gash across her knee from her fall is being tended to. Not by normal means however, although such was considered normal where she was from. The green materia dissipates into her skin and begins to knit it back together, and soon its as if there had never been an injury in the first place.

Glancing up she notices someone had approached and probably wanted to get by as she was blocking the way. “Sorry, guess you need to get past huh,” A light smile present as she sits up, dusting her dress free of any debris. Then she remembers what she was doing out here in the first place. “Oh! I almost forgot, would you like to buy one?” Picking up the basket that was filled with a variety of flowers, “might make your apartment a little more cheery?”

fetuum

It was not like him to stop and indulge... or at least, well. A very distant version of himself would not have done such. But in this environment, he could not help but feel the presence of a driving force of the past, one that encouraged him to speak, to acknowledge this woman and the kindness she seemed full of. Hm. That nagging need to... be better, he supposed. Something like that.

Mostly an annoying feeling, but nevertheless, he regarded her, surprised to have caught what appeared to be the woman’s hidden talent. One of perhaps many? He couldn’t be sure, of course. His brows raised, eyes wandering to the basket next.

“... ...I.” The elf began, expression relaxing to something more indifferent. “I will... pass.” An afterthought, piqued curiosity; he couldn’t ignore it, compelled to ask in a situation that seemed appropriate enough: “... However. Your injury...” A hand went to his chin, fingers brushed against tattoos.

“Healed, in an instant. The matter of which I’ve never seen before... it’s curious.”

#sorry this is so late!!!!#she's adorable i love #cetrasguard #aerith 001

wyvearn

Masked strangers were not at all uncommon where he was from. In this present location, however... just as Fenris stuck out for his long ears and tattoos, this person too could not seem to hide as well as he may have liked. Try as the other might, the elf zeroed in on his appearance -- that of a warrior, a suit armor similar to what he was used to in the way it curved and pointed. It almost looked like what... well. A distant memory. One that compelled him to speak, of all things.

Hawke just had that effect on people. A truth he could not help but follow, as well.

“... ...Are you some kind of warrior?” Calm was his voice, questioning with nothing more than curiosity -- something he had rarely indulged in the past. It was never his place to speak, not as a slave... in this situation, he could. Foreign.

“You resemble those I am familiar with, is all.”

#posts this twenty years later #hope it's okay!#wyvearn #gerome 001

gansakuwo

THE STING OF Fenris’s words strike with a similar intensity as his dearest brother. Elusive words and a distant aura would encourage the counterfeit to keep his distance when talking to him. Such was an affair he had very little problem in adhering to. Now, he had to make conscious efforts to not touch the other’s shoulder and risk those cold eyes and a shrug of the shoulders as his response. Well, he is learning in time, he knew this much.

A carefree laugh resounds from the elder sword. “Yeah. C’mon, we’re living together. It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t make a meal at least once.” He had also thought that a lunch together would elicit opportunities to get to know him a little more. If they are to live together, then he would want to at least know him a little more. That plan, however, backfired; the resulting mingling in the hospital was worth the sacrifice of his thumb. “I wanted to!”

“The thought didn’t occur to me at the time.”

fetuum

Nagasone was learning fast, if anything. And Fenris could admire fast; the sword wasn’t an idiot. Just a bit of a buffoon. More and more the elf was reaching the conclusion that he was simply a well-meaning fool, purely innocuous. It would take more time for either suspicion of friendship or rivalry to be proven true -- blindly trusting the first few nice gestures was naive, of course -- but if anything... he was already growing more comfortable. Perhaps this was how this system of random living arrangement was meant to work.

It was terrifying based on the principle of “closeness”... but not... entirely unwelcome. Which maybe made it even more discomforting. Letting people in--

He crossed his arms, exhaling. The latter response did not surprise him, either. “... I suppose that much is the truth. And, yes, it seems it did not.” Nagasone was not stupid, no. Lacking in common sense, however? Somewhat occasionally.

“... Next time... more caution. That is all.” With that, he would lean back, looking up at the ceiling. White, bright lights. Fluorescent, he had heard it described as; one of the many identities given to an environment of strange new technology he was still growing accustomed to.

“Are we to do anything else with your injury while here?”

#nagasone 001 #gansakuwo

gansakuwo

“Haaarsh,” was Nagasone’s chimed response. For the short time he had acquainted himself Fenris, he had learned one thing: he wasn’t very receptive of the elder sword’s joviality. Aversion was commonplace, and as off-putting as it could be on the tactile sword’s end, it seemed as though he did not mind it too much in the end. It could not be helped, after all. He would have to learn to work with this guy.

An absent shrug of the shoulders, and he places the injured hand down on his lap.

“I was trying to cook us something, and… I cut myself with the kitchen knife.”

fetuum

Harsh? Perhaps. And it was simply his way, simply how he had learned to communicate with others. A thick wall of defense and an icy demeanor that made it easy to weed out those who sought only selfish means--ah. But this wasn’t about any of that, and he certainly didn’t think of it now.

What the other said next allowed a raising of the brows. This, at least, piqued his interest more than a simple injury. “Cooking? ... For us?” He repeated. His words were heavy with disbelief; Nagasone, usually rather inept in the kitchen... attempting to make a whole meal? “... ...I ... appreciate the thought, Nagasone, but I have no reservation about making meals.” The implication being that he didn’t mind making it for the both of them, but like many things, he did not elaborate on this. It was unnecessary.

Although.... his gesture was sincere, as most things with this man were. He sighed, shaking his head.

“... I could have... at least helped, you know.”

#nagasone 001 #gansakuwo #it begins and it's already kinda gay

hey hey!! like this for a starter from the brooding elf!! capping at uhh... 4.

#kny rp ad #;out of brooding #;ooc

gansakuwo

“Don’t gimme that look… It was a big accident.” Big is right. A kitchen mishap did land him in the emergency room, after all. Fortunately, he’s been given stitches and bandages for the gash in his finger. Lifting his hand, he presents the injured digit to the very individual who accompanied him to the hospital this fine afternoon. True, he barely knew the guy, but a little joking around never hurt anyone.

“Kiss it better?”

fetuum

A typical response from a typical oaf. This was, in the short time it had been, what Fenris had come to understand was Nagasone in summary. A lot of smiling, a lot of joking around... and getting into trouble like this. Nevertheless, the elf had reluctantly arrived as promised, offering him nothing more than a dull stare to have warranted the other’s words. He listened, brow twitching -- and finally, as the ridiculous suggestion came, his lips folded into a thin line. Of course.