you see the magic of art! it would tear you apart if you knew!

They certainly look human, though upon closer inspection, their facade is uncanny and not quite right. The faint, tiny details are missing; their skin is too smooth, the tiny hairs a human would have absent, their face too symmetrical, their hair moves in clumps and not strands. A brief pass would be convincing, but a further look would turn up inconsistencies. An imperfect mimic.

Zazie was old, ancient, alive for years uncountable, but they'd had relatively little time to learn humanity. There was always something new they'd missed or misunderstood.

Ancient and wise but young and naive at once. They had no notion of Grimm being anything more than what he appeared to be, and what he appeared to be was kin and a possible friend. They'd not really learned their lesson from trusting Nai.

"We remember seasons. Those went away a long time ago, before the water went underground and everything but us died. It will be nice to see them again." Clearly, they'll have to figure out how to deal with the cold in the meantime.

Not that they have to worry now, not with how much delightful warm Grimm gives off. They lean up into the touch with a smile and nod happily.

"Yes, we'd like that a lot! We'd like to learn about this place and you and your place, so we can tell the Hive when we go back home again. Then we'll remember forever like we do the others we had with us before."

#avataroftheswarm #Zazie 01 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}

“Everything died...” Grimm murmurs. “Just like the wasteland.”

Arcanus was far better a place to exist than the wastes, a place so wretchedly barren that even powerful predators could die from lack of hunting, where minds went to die and rot. Was all of Zazie’s home like that, the thought passes him, but there were far better things to discuss.

“Wonderful, my friend. Tell me, how have you acclimated? Are there any things you need that I can possibly provide you as one who has been here for over a year now?” Grimm hums a little note, his free hand raising to his face. “We should make certain you have a high quality coat for the rest of the season, yes.”

It is an easy role for Zhongli, to watch calmly with the sunlit-warmth of his amber gaze, to observe the interplay, the wounds both physical and spiritual, the tenderness with which his friend treats the little one. The scent of the simmering meal permeates the villa, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

It is the duty of the strong to shield the weak from harm, to provide stability where they can. Though Grimm himself cannot be called weak, the young one at his side is another story.

No matter how many centuries have passed, Zhongli still cannot forsake this duty-- nor does he wish to.

But of course, there would be further questions about these circumstances-- and for once, Zhongli is not reluctant to answer truthfully. "From the beginning, in fact, I travelled to Sonare on my own volition. There was a missing persons case filed at the police station, and so my associates and I came to investigate," he explains. "During the course of that visit, I happened to encounter some members of the Omerta Nostra. They have long operated in the shadows, so I returned later on to investigate further, perhaps hoping to bring some things to light."

He speaks softly, though not without a tone of seriousness. Of course, the time has come to discuss more concerning matters. There's little use putting it off.

#chenshixianyou #Zhongli 02 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}

If Zhongli only knew. If he only knew that his Heart beat with weakness, that It struggled through the stitched walls of Its chambers—

“On your own volition?” Grimm repeats, a note of surprise. “Then myself and a few that I knew were not the only ones whisked away to its welcoming shores. Did you... learn why we were brought there? Was it them?”

Maybe he hadn’t clutched that answer yet. Uncertain hands continue to rub circles into the grub’s back. Did it make sense for a group of mortals to be able to cause disappearances on a mass scale? Grimm could not say he thought it so. Was something else at work?

“...I know not why we are even here in Arcanus, what meaning it could possibly have.”

This must be what it felt like to be a mortal dreaming, where nothing was right and over it all seeped a haze of inability to change it.

A whole world of creatures like them, how strange and fantastic to imagine. They'd been alone for so long they'd begun to believe they were the only thing in the whole of existence before the humans and Plants had come. Now, it seems there's even more out there beyond even that.

It makes the swarm feel a little less lonely, and they know the Hive would feel the same.

The single Worm wiggles it's antenna at the larger bug and burrows into Zazie's hair, returning back to the core of the facade the swarm keeps.

"The humans fell from the sky in great metal shells and fire a hundred and fifty rotations ago. We'd never met anything but us before then. We thought we were all alone out there in existence. It's nice to know we're not, but better to see there are others like us. We remember when there was other life before, but it's been so long. This place is strange, green and wet and cold and busy. We don't know if we like it yet. The Hive isn't here either, we can't hear them." The larger bug is a comfort there, something like them even if not of them, something larger to take shelter against when their swarm is so relatively small.

They're used to being physically small, but this mental smallness when they're all the Worms there are here is strange and unnerving.

"Kin is good, it's been a very long time since we had any kin." They hum lower, a mournful little song for lost Others long before they met humans, though it pitches higher again in joy at having a more familiar Other now to interact with.

#avataroftheswarm #Zazie 01 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}#posting this out of queue since i missed it oop

Grimm listens, eyes passing over the features upon the swarm’s face in curiosity. They took human form, but were they good at being human? It reminds him, almost funnily, of when he descended into mortalhood: he had the body of one, though its figure was like the things that lurked in the bedtime horror they whispered to their grubs (“Calyptra moth, beast of teeth and claw and taste for blood...”)—and back then, how many times had he been told that he was unnatural? The way his facial expressions were, the way he did not respond the way a bug should?

He could slip on the mask so easy now that it was like a second heart and mortality became a disease of its own. It was still there, of course. Hidden, but still there in the scarlet behind his eyes.

“So the mammals invaded your world. Fascinating. Many of our kind would be sent into panic, I’d think. I wonder if higher beings would swarm to investigate? Ah, mere hypotheticals,” he mumbles. “Anyway, always cold this place is not. Its seasons shift like flowers, as much as I wish the cold would not rear its merciless head. In some months time, it will thaw into life again...”

A warm hand reaches to lightly grip Zazie’s shoulder, considering they did not seem to mind touch.

“As kin in this world we do not belong in, we should stick together. Would you like that, Zazie?”

epilvgue

「𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔤!」- "Er.... sure..."

Now the man looked completely baffled. He need not worry about that? He saw that look in Grimm's eyes, but all the same, Vash was still - Vash looked back down at the baby, blinking as he stared at the odd little thing now in his arms. Concern was etched into his features as they looked back at him with those wide black eyes.

The question of what happened to the kid was still something he wanted an answer to and wanted to ask about, but as he looked at the child something else struck him and he raised his head, saying, "Hey, wait, what's their na -"

Gimm wasn't there anymore...

Vash whipped his head right and left. HUH?!

HE WAS HALF WAY DOWN THE STREET!!

Vash stood there for a moment, just inside the open door, his grip tightening on the strap of the bag he'd been handed for a moment. Until he sighed and his shoulders slumped, and that hard grip relaxed.

He smiled down at the child nestled in the crook of his elbow as he turned around and toed the door shut with a boot. "Well, guess it's just you and me now." He appraised the baby for a moment. "Guess I'll take a look at yer wounds just ta make sure. You wanna play after that?"

#epilvgue #Vash 01 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}#time to test my nonverbal character skills #lmk if there’s ever not enough to respond to!!#OH VASH SWEETIE YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU DO

And so the two are, indeed, alone. Bewildered keeper and puckish child.

Now that its sense of its father is quickly becoming more and more distant, it latches its attention onto Vash like a bundle of burs. At the sound of his voice, its head raises as if it is analyzing the statements said to it.

...Of course, it really does no such thing. Words are nothing but noise to it, albeit noise and attention that it is enamored with. It chirps in response to whatever was said to it, unaware of what Vash is about to do—just about as much as a carefree cat who’s about to be placed into a carrier for the vet.

If anything, it wants to start climbing. It wriggles its little wing stumps, but remains comfortably in Vash’s hold. What will this big, strangely chitinless creature do?

Not long passes before the fragrance of the simmering herbs mingle together with that of the incense-- ginger and tangerine, chamomile and cardamom-- the steam rising up from the pot in warm plumes.

"Did I not say already that I would return shortly?" Zhongli asks quietly with a slight inclination of his head-- after all, could the god of contracts truly go back on his word?

Still, he simply continues to go about his work, long-practiced movements preparing something to eat, slicing thin strips of meat and mincing ginger and garlic into a fine paste, then mixing it into a larger pot of rice and water to simmer upon the stove. The kitchen counter has become a bit of a mess by this point-- Zhongli may cook well, but even after all these thousands of years he still can't keep some stray ingredients from scattering their way across the counter. He hears Grimm's question as he tidies it up, pausing before washing his hands to answer.

"It is only a simple rice porridge with warming spices," he says, then leaving both teapot and cooking pot to simmer upon the stove as he returns to the sitting area. "Sonare's winds and rains are bitterly cold, and both of you will need to restore your inner warmth. It will take some time to cook, but the tea will be prepared soon."

Though he cannot say whether Grimm's statement on the severity of his own injuries is shaped by his pride, Zhongli has lived long enough to know not to question further, to prod at the wounds themselves. He sees no need to deal any more blows to his friend's pride-- and apart from that, there is no reason to think that Grimm cannot care for himself should he need it.

#chenshixianyou #Zhongli 02 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}

“Still is it worth my thanks,” he voices, stroking a hand down the child’s arched and tense back. It soon resumes making low, grumbling noises not too unlike an angry, little furnace. Grimm truly hopes the scent of food could entice it enough to calm and eat.

If not that—his mind goes to the blood hidden away in the fridge, but would it not be far gone bad by now? How long, again, had he been stuck in the discordant sounds of Sonare...?

“That sounds... nice. Yes. Won’t that be nice, dear one? Uncle Zhongli has been so kind to us, hasn’t he?” Grimm puts a finger beneath the grub’s chin, talking softly at it. “So tired it must be, and yet refusing to rest proper. I should be none too surprised, I suppose... You only need wait a little longer, love, then feast we shall, and the most gentle of dreams will wrap around you.”

He allows himself to melt into the feeling of the couch, but he didn’t want to sit in silence so long as they weren’t alone... and some curiosity pecks at him.

“...What were you doing in Sonare? I was—had been trying to find the way back, until I received the tip that led me to my child. From then, I hadn’t been able to spare a thought about getting back here. I still... do not entirely know how I got there to begin with.”

synthetnick

@flameindream

One of these days Valentine really ought to hire himself a secretary ( heck, why hasn't he? Could've sworn he made a memo to himself about that very thing ). Let somebody else do the work of sitting behind a desk waiting for clients to file in - it's a drag, being between cases, so slow that he can feel the need to get out and hit the pavement just itching under his skin. He should be grateful, maybe - no serious cases means no trouble - but there's only so many missing watches he can find, so many background checks that can turn up empty before a man starts to feel... well, unfulfilled. He's burning through cigarettes at a heinous rate these days. He can only run through the half-baked mantra of the next one will be big; something you can do right by so many times before he starts to sound unsure even inside his own head.

The sound of the door is, frankly, nothing short of a godsend. Straighten up and put on a good face. The cigarette goes to the ashtray.

"Valentine's Detective Agency." As if anybody in town doesn't already know. "This about business, or you here for the broken window?" ( He's been waiting on that replacement for a week now ).

#synthetnick #Nick 01 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}#event: untold stories #HERE WE GOOO!!

And the one who walks through the door is a famous man.

The Troupe Master has his arms tensely crossed against his waist, an uncomfortable glance towards the floor before he fully faces the detective before him. The way he carries himself more echoes a wounded animal than the carefree, flirty persona that the public sees at every show.

“Business, my friend,” Grimm speaks up, “A missing persons case—”

One hand flies up to his forehead, brows knitting as if the light in the room was just a little too much. Why does it feel like he’s done this before?

“...My sister. She is not anywhere—she is not home, she is not anywhere she usually likes to be, she does not answer the phone. Almost as if... she has disappeared from the isles entirely. Are you willing to take that on, Detective?”

The moth lets his hand fall back beneath a wing, trying to look as if he was more than some wretch struggling to keep it together. Things felt wrong, lately. His memory. It’d always been something he could count on, something infallible, but now?

The distress from being alone, from losing her. It must be—

Untold Stories

Troupe Master Grimm is a famous performer across Arcanus, beloved for his dedication and understanding of music and the stage. His small troupe hosts flashy shows and parties all across the isle, bastions of entertainment for any who wish to see.

And yet, despite all of that attention, something is very missing from his life.

No matter who he interacts with, no matter what conversations he has, it’s all shallow. He can find no understanding with any other being, or something rips them away.

There was only ever one person he could ever connect with: his tumultuous sister. As long as he had her, he did not need anyone else. Even if she tore him down, filled his head with lies, even if he was dependent on her. She is the one who gave him music, gave him everything. She loved him in a way no one else ever would, ever could.

And now, she’s gone. Disappeared. He cannot stop chasing her.

Why can he not stop following the shadow of the person he hates most, at his own expense?

#; burn away the nightmare king {out of character}#event: untold stories #note: he’s still a moth bc i’m a gijinka hater

epilvgue

「𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔤!」- "Yeah, I really don't have anythin' else goin' on t'day so I'd be happy to."

The baby, he assumed, was already in Grimm's arms and the raven haired man smiled at them, giving a little wave.

He received the child carefully in one arm. He glanced down, the child wide eyed - well, the kid was cute at least... (Oh how wrong he would be proven ever so soon. The little terror it would become upon him and his home.)

Vash nodded at first, taking the bag with his free hand, wondering, at first, if maybe Grimm had a cat and had somehow mixed up a couple of its toys into the baby bag. - "Oh... uh, well how often do ya feed -"

-- Bandages?

Rapidly blue eyes flickered from the baby in the crook of his arm and back to Grimm.

"Hang on, the kid's injured? Is he - she... are they all right? What d'ya mean bandages?" Visible concern furrowed his brows.

#epilvgue #Vash 01 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}

The child, in new and unfamiliar arms, glances up the same as its new caretaker with black eyes oddly discerning and curious. It was used to being held by all sorts of bugs, with all of its troupe taking turns in its care.

As Vash inquires worriedly about it, the grub begins sniffing him in examination. It smells the fibers of his clothing, the scent of something human yet not quite. If its father was handing it to him, this was someone it should be able to trust. Didn’t smell like a bad person.

“You... need not worry about that,” Grimm answers darkly, the same flash one might see in the eyes of a mother lion. “The perpetrator has already been thoroughly punished by myself. In any case, it was not harmed too badly. Almost is it fully recovered... as you will well find out.”

He fails to call it by any sort of proper pronoun, nor a name. The energy returns to Grimm’s face quickly despite the detour in subject.

“Anyway! You should feed it at approximately two, and I will return by four. So you both will have some hours to enjoy, yes?”

"Of course," Zhongli inclines his head slightly. "I have some knowledge of traditional healing arts. I will brew an herbal tea that can promote healing and soothe the mind, so you and this little one can both sleep peacefully."

Once the two have entered their own abode, Zhongli returns to his. In short order, he gathers up some ingredients and cookware, placing it into a basket that he carries in the crook of his elbow back to Grimm's home. A gentle yet sturdy knock precedes his entrance, and he sets the basket on the counter, places a few dried herbs into the teapot, and sets it to boil. "Sonare's wind and rains are bitterly cold, and winter fast approaches. I will make something with warming qualities."

Then, he approaches the two, golden gaze watching Grimm's movements, taking in the child's agitation and his friend's difficulty.

"One moment," he says, producing a censer from his basket and lighting the incense within, allowing a soothing, grounding fragrance to suffuse through the air. "This may help to settle the little one. How are your injuries?"

Both of them, of course-- he's noticed Grimm's own, despite the other deity's attempts to hide it.

#chenshixianyou #Zhongli 02 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}#constantly astounded by how nice people are to him

The sound of Zhongli’s arrival reaches his ears through the cacophony of the stinging of a child’s cleaned wounds. He looks back in mild curiosity, though he cannot seem to force a smile. As his friend comes closer, Grimm returns his attention forward and rubs at the poor thing’s head.

“...Thank you for coming,” he mutters, shutting his eyes as the familiar scent of incense and smoke fills his senses. Perhaps, if he took calmness into himself, it would echo into the child. A holy fragrance. The sound of boiling water. Nothing more. Whether because of his attempts, or the stinging pains dulling as the moments pass, the Grimmchild quiets some, though it still could not seem to settle fully in his lap and allow itself to relax.

Grimm opens an eye, then. Of course—even despite his trying, there was no way he could hide his own pain the entire way back. Whether Zhongli had picked up on the way he moved gingerly, or happened to see the coverings on his shell...

“It’s only a cut. Of little concern. What... are you making?”

With the stranger opening space for them to fit closer, Zazie is quick to duck under the offered coat and tuck close. The swarm collection shifts again and settles happily with a sigh of flickering wings. Much better, much warmer, much safer.

"A moth, that's an insect from Earth!" Already bright eyes glow with a soft, flickering green. A grin appears on their face and out from under the scarf crawls a large, dragonfly like insect, a double pair of gossamer wings stretching from its back, and a curved stinger attached to its tail.

"I'm not a mammal, no. I am an ancient creature, though. We are the Worms, we live on a desert planet as a hivemind across the planet. I am just a small swarm out of all of them, made to interact with the humans who fell from the sky many rotations ago. We learned to speak to them like this. Humans can't understand us normally."

A high, ringing chittering sound emerges from the swarm, too high for humans to hear, but maybe, maybe they can speak to another like them like this.

#avataroftheswarm #Zazie 01 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}#does it make any sense for grimm to understand it?#probably not but we ball

Heh. Cute, he thinks, an invitation taken.

“So it seems. But my assurances, from Earth I am not. You could say I am from a world where everyone is like you and I—rather than us being rare outliers.”

Perhaps others would be unnerved by the sudden appearance of that creature. Firm chitin and frightening weapons blessed by the hand of nature. That made for nothing unusual.

“Not the Wyrms I know, then...” Hivemind. “Only had I first seen a human upon my arrival here.”

Grimm raises his head, though he still stares down. The noise he hears is pitched higher than anything else he has heard uttered by the beings of this land; a sound familiar as street chatter, though he could not replicate it himself.

“...But in this way, we are kin, are we not?”

Snow was cold. That was the first thing Zazie remembered about it, reaching into the depths of their memory to pluck out newly relevant information.

Worms didn't do well in cold, not since they'd adapted to a planet wide desert. The swarm was already shuddering as their members moved around inside the hunan facade to make a tiny bit more warmth. They needed to find somewhere better quickly--

Or someone, apparently.

A source of great warmth was casually walking along the street, and what's more, they were neither human nor Plant and appeared closer to Zazie themself then either. The small swarm scrambled to catch up while hanging onto their odd flora and the strange rectangle thing, proceeding to tuck themself against the tall stranger with a little hum of relief.

Large, bright green, slitted eyes peek up at them.

"You're warm," they say happily, their voice high and neither leaning male or female. "You're not a Worm, but you're not human either. What are you? I'm Zazie." As the numbing cold recedes, their curiosity takes over.

@flameindream

#avataroftheswarm #Zazie 01 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}#buggy pals!!!#wrong ‘worm’ grimm

Grimm had been going about his usual business, heading home as he himself shivers in his coat. Someone enters his peripheral vision, and he only stops when he sees this stranger heading towards him.

To his surprise, the... boy, perhaps?—it was sometimes hard for him to tell with mammals—comes close enough to bathe in his heat. Close enough to touch him, even, like a cat drawn to a fireplace. He peers down curiously as what he assumes is a child stares back up at him.

Then his senses pick up on something familiar. A soft buzzing of insect wings... hundreds, thousands? This was no mammal, no.

“Wyrm?” Grimm blurts out with widening eyes, images of pure white and prismatic wings pushing through to the front of his mind. This being did not look like a Wyrm in any sense, and yet—“Are you one of those ancient creatures? But you appear as the mammals that are so common in this world...”

...They were looking for warmth? He opens his coat, offering space between his wing.

“Ahah... I am a moth. Troupe Master Grimm, that is what you may call me. You are not like the others who walk this island... Are you?”

epilvgue

「𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔤!」- The gunslinger blinked. "Yer lookin' fer someone ta watch yer kid for a bit...?"

And he was going around to his neighbors to find somebody...? That was certainly an interesting method, but if it worked, well...

Vash stood in the doorway of the villa with another man (?) on his doorstep.

Well... Today was his day off... He really hadn't had any plans and it had been a little too cold out recently to really go out and do anything (not that even the ache around his prosthetic stopped him)...

Jiaoqiu was out right now, he could hide his gun and other things so the kid couldn't get into any serious trouble -

"Sure... I don' mind doin' that. Ya said 's just a couple'a hours, right?"

@flameindream

#epilvgue #Vash 01 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}#good luck!

“Oh!” Grimm’s face lights up slight for what felt like the first time in ages. “You will, Vash? Too long I will not be, my promise. Only a few hours, yes. I am merely visiting another district on business—”

The hot tub. He was going to soak in the Sky Horizon Hotel’s hot tub for a long while. A stressed man’s bubbling lifeline.

“—but if you have need of me for any reason, I will keep my phone nearby.”

He adjusts the child in his arms so he can hand over a bag full of various supplies and snacks: toys that looks suspiciously like cat toys (including a long string on a stick, a laser pointer, and a very chewed up ball), little bundles of fruit slices and grapes, an opaque baby bottle that hid its rather ominously red contents, its blanket, bandages, and some wipes.

“This should have everything it needs and then some,” he nods, failing to mention the child’s usual rough-housing streak, “You should not have to change the bandages on it, but there are extra in there just in case. Might you have any questions about how to handle it?”

@magnusmodig

The two of them had been trapped inside for a bit too long. A welcome cocoon of rest and warmth, but everything must shred that protection eventually. He’d only left the villa for supplies. And Grimm… was becoming restless. The child, too. It had begun to throw more and more fits, so much so that its emotions became a tangled mess of entwined flames that its father could barely tell what it was complaining about.

It wouldn’t hurt if they went for a walk. He throws his coat on, wraps up the grub in its baby blanket that was patterned with gentle autumn leaves of reds and greens and yellows, and steps outside with it cradled close.

His feet take them down the way. The scenery almost feels odd, having been in the wretched grasp of some entire other isle for all that time. Eyes take in what should be familiar, even if it was never truly ‘home.’ The temperature he hates does not take away from how beautiful it is.

The Grimmchild begins to whine, then, and he stares down and observes it. It becomes louder and louder, into a full blown fit of wailing and squirming and Grimm freezes awkwardly in the path.

“What is it now, love…?” he sighs as parental worry bites at him: was it still uncomfortable or in pain? Thinking about something unpleasant? Was it cold? It couldn’t be hungry, for it wasn’t that long ago they had eaten.

He should… check. Make sure it hadn’t inadvertently caused itself more damage and wasn’t bleeding. Grimm hurries to a bench, sitting and carefully setting it on his lap, unwrapping the bandages… and it looks fine enough to him. The marks hadn’t been that bad to begin with… but of course to a child, it was the end of the world.

“You are fine. Be strong, little firelight, won’t you?”

#magnusmodig #Thor 02 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}#thor meet baby!!

There is a place for vengeance, for the repaying of debts-- that, Zhongli certainly will not deny. But safety, security, and recovery hold a far greater importance. Thus, the once-archon is swift to guide them back through the channels that lead them back to the steady equilibrium of Arcanus, to the quiet streets and comforting atmosphere of Seaside.

"My own home is not far," he says, gesturing toward it. "If you will allow me to fetch some things, I will prepare something for both of you to eat and drink that can aid your injuries and soothe your minds."

He begins to gather his thoughts, too, on the troubles that may face Grimm going forward, the repayment that will no doubt be sought by both sides... it is far too complicated, even taking the issue of morality in mind.

#chenshixianyou #Zhongli 02 #; one will light the nightmare lantern {aevum ic}

Grimm had been so focused on this situation that he’d had little time to spare towards finding the way home after it reached his attention. Despite his fatigue, the god takes careful note of the paths Zhongli takes him through the whole way—useful to know for later.

“Oh. We are neighbors, just about...” the moth pipes up from his silence. Vaguely amusing, that his new friend lived just two houses down the whole time. “I will leave my door open for you. If you... wish to do that for us.”

He bows his head politely, mind stuck on the kindness he was being offered as he shuffles his way towards that familiar and desperately wanted place of rest. It reminds him of his troupe, the way they would reach out to him in his avoidance. He takes out a key that finally works for him, stepping inside and staring over the space it felt he had not seen in weeks. They were so warm, even when he rejected their closeness.

...First order of business. Grimm takes a first aid supply box from the closet and a towel—he would have to buy a baby blanket later—and settles the two of them on the couch. Carefully he goes about fully removing the child’s bandages and wipes the minor wounds clean (and the rest of it, really) to be sure despite its displeased whining. With ointment and new bandages, he could breathe a little easier knowing for certain they’d been taken care of.

“I am helping you...” Grimm mumbles in response to the chorus of screeches.

sanctivus

(✦) as melody ebbs and flows like the barest brush of tide along distant shores, every precise rise of the keys brings with it a bitter sweet solemn remembrance. gaze lidded as fingers weave dance amidst keys of elaborate ebony and ivory, he need not rely on vision to elaborate-merely the unseen harmony in heartfelt motion. when the cloaked figure finally presents himself, the halovian’s head bows enough to grant him a gaze upon the other sidelong, wings upon his head folding back to reveal a once revered visage.

it is a stillness in which he is yet vastly unfamiliar indeed. no valiant chorus standing at his beck and call within these hallowed halls, no pledge to move the very heavens in the name of the order itself his vow any longer, but the benevolence of the isle’s people scattered with still flickering candles among the rows of pews in silent prayer in hopes of saving themselves.

a smile faintly touches the corners of his usually sternly drawn lips; a habit still unbroken from his days of serving as the oak family head with the truer form of himself buried in favor of duty. when the melody finally finds rest, he gestures a hand towards the empty side of the spacious stool beside him.

“ah, it is a pleasure to meet with a fellow musician in such case. i am honored my performance has garnered your recognition. please, call me sunday. no longer merely a humble passenger i suppose, but.. a fellow resident. by pilgrimages i assume you mean having never crossed me on the isles before? i am one among many new arrivals, so i’ve heard. would you care to sit and play with me?”