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@galacticbaseballcr
*. ⊹ ✧ — 🙶 Those posers talk about space mining and colonizing and ‘ new frontier ’ bullshit, like, something else to conquer. I just wanna watch supernovae from a safe distance in an orbital. 🙷
Explaining to a half-inebriated patron who lumped Caelus with snot-nosed techbros while wiping the innards of the same glass repeatedly; a show of patience that is thinning.
Slept the mid-late afternoon away and forgot to work on Caelus’ modern verse...
she had heard about this horrendous coffee, and really had no desire to taste it. at least, she was grateful that he was understanding of that. "ah, the new shop. that's one of the ones that miss nihilux is running, isn't it?" she'd heard about it, since her boss was often the one having to negotiate the bills, and she was usually the one sneaking nihilux the payment so ashveil could use his money for his own charity.
the halovian falls into step with the nameless, soft smiles as her true wings fold against her sides. "hallen blone. i'm mister ashveil's assistant. uhm, not mr. n. mr. n and i work together to help him. mr. n puts the information i get into an order he knows that mister ashveil can handle, i'm the front of house."
hallen chuckles. "i do know you, it's hard not to know about the nameless here. you all caused quite a stir."
*. ⊹ ✧ — Offering a nod in response, Caelus mused about the artist momentarily. Yes, the Trailblazer kept mum on the exact establishment. Mostly to shield someone from her whims. Headaches are unwarranted, and so is backing out... one out of two’s more acceptable. Banter, cordial or not, is something Caelus navigates often.
A blink post-proper introduction; front of house... Caelus recognize business operations well, but detective agencies wanting for Credits slip his acumen. Furbobo Weekly’s only one of his ventures, but it’s a traditional rag.
🙶 Nice to meet’cha, Hallen. 🙷 With all pleasantries shared, Caelus hung a right. One of Planarcadia’s tight walkways with seldom a shop. From afar, their intended target’s hawking some merchandise disguised as coffee. Steeling his resolve, Caelus approached the store.
🙶 Allow me to cause yet another stir. 🙷
Nevertheless, there’s fondness in the claim. Not an irredeemable person ( discounting the treatment of her ex-employees and a major fib [ forgiven ] ) in the end—certainly not the likes of a Lord Ravager.
------
Nonsense and evading purchase of merch based on himself and the crew later, Caelus plops down on a rickety table. An experimental flavor based on his incarnation in the famed comic; directing his short-lived amusement at the appellation etched onto the cup.
... ah, correct. The agency. Proverbial thought bubble consisting of steaming drinks popped. Succeeding in the preceding task and seguing into another.
His expression gentle, voice low and reassuring, preventing that certain part-time barista from overhearing: 🙶 Not to go landlord while relaxing or anything, but let the detective know his grace period’s extended. ’least I can do for an ally. 🙷
The maiden's shoulders droop in content. A moment of peace is always welcome, especially for the lives of those always on the go, ready to jump at adventure when it shows itself. Castorice laughs behind her hand, gaze trailing over her companion.
"Yes.." she smoothes out the wrinkles in her dress, like a butterfly cleaning its wings. "You're always out and about, Caelus. I find myself getting tired just seeing you running around and finishing errands."
*. ⊹ ✧ — The ‘ value ’ of a busybody is celebrated by the results-minded. And therein lies the problem; workaholics who abandon well-being for others’ sake until they collapse. Mentally, physically, emotionally.
It’s only a partition of the puzzle for Caelus himself. Tomfoolery is always on the menu. Or aimlessness—in the shape of gamboling about, thus with purpose—to focus on existing past expectations, to ponder and relish in solitude from bustling activity.
🙶 Heh. So I’ve been told. 🙷 Caelus, ever a puzzle of a human for the uninitiated, decides to elaborate on a misconception. 🙶 But errands are one part of the equation. I contain multitudes~ 🙷 Multitudes as in blacking out from a recent celebration; Dan Heng’s gaze fierce once the Nameless woke from his stupor; drilled into Caelus’ mind thereafter.
One chimera resembling Vigethos ( sans horns ) ambles over. A customary ‘ awoo ’ later, it settles on Caelus’ firm lap, coiling itself and closing its eyes. Fingers roughened by tribulations brushed against silveresque fur. An ironic combination, yet perfectly intermixed with this lull.
🙶 ... but like this little guy ? I value a catnap as much as getting myself out there. 🙷
It’s easier to form platonic than romantic bonds with Caelus. While romance isn’t a subject that eludes him, his personality doesn’t lend well to long-term relationships without a lot of effort.
it must be very nice to have that mindset, she thinks. your own protagonist. if that were the case, perhaps she might have been born an emanator of elation. fate chose harmony instead, her power from their being. the nameless always had this certain charm, from all the times she'd ever run into them in the amber eras that she'd seen and caelus is no different. "i suppose i should let you convince me about that protagonist bit, so coffee sounds wonderful. i have heard about this express navigator's coffee, though. i hope that it isn't as," she pauses, wings flapping softly. "bitter?
*. ⊹ ✧ — Contingencies in place wouldn’t allow Caelus ( or rather, his own willingness ) to watch the Halovian suffer. Hospitality comes with strings attached; thankfully, it only extends to gastronomical quirks and not anyone’s temperament.
🙶 Yeah, it’s like a cognitohazard for tastebuds. 🙷 Confessed the one who takes swigs of mung bean soda sans flinching, an acquired taste in itself. 🙶 Someone informed me of some new coffee shop that opened a block away. You’ll get your kicks there instead... with yours truly in tow, of course. 🙷
Which means no swarming influencers, given its cleverly placed locale and theming. Meaning it’s lowkey compared to Planarcadia’s kitschy leanings. Taking a brisk stride, almost mimicking the pace of locals. Some glances askew thanks to Caelus’ presence, keeping the Trailblazer in their peripheral vision longer than necessary. First place is a boon and bane in tandem.
🙶 I haven’t gotten your name yet, by the way. 🙷
of course, the nameless didn't know that she had followed la mancha for several amber eras at this point. her name was lost in the annals of the battle against zulo and the issue on vonwacq, with good reason. while she might have been there, it was just as support. she remembers the nameless from before, and their comment makes her suddenly laugh. easy and free, wings flapping as she hides her mouth behind her hand. "plot armor….you nameless really are something. so, you have plot armor? how so?"
*. ⊹ ✧ — The laughter which crossed paths with Caelus was infectious. No use in disregarding mirth. Lips curling into a wry grin, index finger on his lips, and a lurch. A solitary wink and customary cheekiness abound. Like keeping secrets of an organization within an impenetrable safe.
🙶 Ah, details, details~. Aren’t we all protagonists within our own story in the end ? Plot armor or not. 🙷 Regaining his composure ( yet none of the dourness of before, ) Caelus retains his ground. Smile refusing to falter even as work entered his thoughts. 🙶 How about some coffee or whatever strikes your fancy before the Furbos under my employ slip into the cozy realm of ‘ trouble ’ ? 🙷
an insult to their legacy. that was certainly an interesting way to put it. hallen nods gently, the halovian's wings fluttering softly. "even if you believe you should have died too?"
*. ⊹ ✧ — Questions which beg another one; something personal which may include oversharing of a sordid past or... Caelus, wary of overstepping aforesaid boundaries, loathe as he is to not sate his curiosity declined to prod at more personal matters.
🙶 When ya start thinking that way, it’s pretty easy to end up in dark places, 🙷 the Nameless responds, his voice taking on a laid-back cadence. Death is a reviled, yet familiar foe. 🙶 Then again, you’re asking a guy with plot armor. 🙷
"do you think it ever gets easier? losing everyone around you?"
open.
*. ⊹ ✧ — 🙶 Life is never easy, nor is loss. All one can do is push forward; it’d be an insult to their legacy otherwise. 🙷
this is not a safe space i will beat you with a bat
Oh god, y’all can’t do this to me...
* . ⊹ ✧ — 🙶 I hate these spam emails. Who do they think I am ? 🙷 Good thing the Supersmart Virus deletes them with great prejudice.
Star Drops of Comet ATLAS
"T-there's no need..." Castorice clears her throat, cheeks warming in embarrassment at the realization of speaking her thoughts a bit too loudly. "They're full of energy, it'd be better to let them play, or they might never sleep."
Ever the knowledgeable one, she recalls part of a guide to raising a chimera. "Though, I've heard some may have a more... 'slothful' demeanor - I'm sure you've come across those before, the ones who sleep all day and only wake up to eat." What an interesting life to live...
* . ⊹ ✧ — Caelus adheres to Castorice’s request with an understanding nod. It doesn’t tamp down on his own curiosity, but heeds the request. The Trailblazer recognized those of different temperaments and values—besides, good company underneath the ever-present light ? How could he decline ?
Besides, he’s cognizant of some chimera’s idleness, given his stint in training a handful for handling tasks. Case in point: one’s taking a siesta, evading their more rambunctious compatriots.
🙶 Yeah, 🙷 he responds with a knowing grin. 🙶 I can empathize with that. Sometimes, you just gotta take a breather. 🙷 There’s a tenderness in his voice, as if he imparted some sage advice. 🙶 Like we’re doing right now. 🙷
@galacticbaseballcr : starter call.
Such adorable things, the little chimeras. Castorice often finds herself visiting the courtyard just to watch them run around or take naps in the sunlight. She lowers herself to sit on the grass, eyes following the little ones as they run in circles around the tables or chase after butterflies.
"I wonder what it's like to be a chimera.." the maiden ponders, imagining the spoiled life of being a small, endearing animal.
* . ⊹ ✧ — Gilded hues locked with the profile of Castorice’s features, following her descent on the ground. A query which gave Caelus pause—a line of thought which crossed his mind once, and only once, prior to concentrating on more pressing matters. Personally speaking...
🙶 Fortunately, the source is right there. 🙷 Caelus responds ( a smidgen too cheeky ), gesturing to the rambunctious creations. Although a response would entail nothing, lest one or two understands speech. 🙶 Want me to call one over ? Although I doubt we’re gonna get little more than a howl, it’s worth a shot. 🙷
* . ⊹ ✧ — 🙶 C’mooon, crash already ! 🙷
i've seen the general who doesn't disappoint / and the genius who leads the stars / the crystal flower that embraces the world / the watcher of the river of forgetting / and the sun destined to rise
