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Tugged by a Red String [Emil || Richter]

[halfelvenresearcher]

This wasn’t really him, was it? He looked exactly the same as when they….how long was he down there anyway? No, never mind that for the moment. He could feel the younger’s grip around his hand tighten slightly, drawing his arm back in order to help the blond to his feet. “At least you weren’t pushed this time.”

It wasn’t much of a response, but what does one say to the boy who was willing to do whatever it took to stop him from attempting to revive the dead with the aid of demons? Not only that, but it was likely one of the better, and less obvious, ways of asking the blond if he was indeed the person Richter thought he was.

He hadn’t been away for very long, but he had said it would be just fine. If he lied, that bastard would be dead.

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It almost felt surreal as the sudden tug brought Emil to his feet. His eyes remained wide and frozen, staring at the red-head before him as if the other were something he'd never quite seen properly before. The sudden excitement budding in his chest was threatening to burst out, because suddenly Richter was here and alive and very much not sealed away somewhere far away where he could never see him again...

"R-Richter...?" The name sounded almost foreign, one he hadn't used in years, he hadn't dared allow himself to. Marta had said something about it just being taboo, something that would only make him more miserable every time he said it. He hadn't really understood why that was, but the subject of Richter had always proved to be a depressing one. After all, who wouldn't be sad if they were told they couldn't see someone they'd so greatly admired? But... He was supposed to be with Ratatosk right? I-I mean, not that I'm not happy to see him. I'm really happy. But... Does that mean something happened? Did we mess it up?

Just what was going on...?

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Tugged by a Red String [Emil || Richter]

[halfelvenresearcher]

The sun had barely begun to rise as his soles padded against the dirt path entering into the small fishing village. His gaze surveyed the area, not many of the usual citizens didn’t seem to be awake and about yet. Striding calmly down the path, the abrupt contact of another warm body with his back which caused only a slight stumble in his walking. Richter turned quickly with narrowed eyes behind glasses at the younger. “Watch where you’re-“

His words silenced themselves, dark green eyes focusing in on the young blond on the ground before him. He paused, limbs momentarily not listening to his mind. Was this really….? How is it that he would run into the one boy in the entire combined worlds that could have a chance of giving a damn about the man he just ran into more than to just give an apology and move on?

Richter extended a hand, raising a brow at the young blond. “What the hell is with you and falling down?” At least it didn’t seem like Emil was getting bullied by a pair of idiots like the first time they ran into one another. …But there was a large amount of water around like Luin is supposed to have, so perhaps this was just destiny to continue on crossing paths.

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A second, muffled yelp slipped past his lips as he hit the ground, eyes pressed tightly closed. He'd managed to catch himself enough that his head didn't strike the dirt, but it didn't make the impact hurt any less. The angry voice from above him didn't make it any more tempting to open his eyes or stand up, and for a moment, Emil just considered staying on the ground. Maybe if he kept still enough, they'd give up and walk away. That had worked in Luin sometimes and--the thoughts stopped there. This wasn't Luin, and he didn't have to worry about things like that. Not anymore. Maybe he'd really just caught this person on a bad day. Or actually hurt them. He really didn't want that.

"What the hell is with you and falling down?"

"I-I'm sorry," he mumbled on reflex, opening his eyes just enough to see the hand in front of him. He didn't try to make a habit of falling down, he was just... a little clumsy at times. It was better than having a habit of falling down holes, he supposed, but even that seemed to have its own unnatural form of luck from his secondary experience with it. Still, at the very least, if they were helping him up, they couldn't be that angry, right?

"I wasn't watching where I was go..." the words faded out almost immediately when Emil looked up. Green eyes widened as he stared up at the other, making no effort to conceal the shock painted across his face. Unconsciously, his fingers curled more tightly around Richter's hand, as if expecting the older male to suddenly fade away. He was pretty sure the fall had hurt... which meant this couldn't have been a dream. At least he hoped it wasn't. Marta had told him that dreams never hurt physically, but he'd been in this situation before - multiple times - but always ended the same way; a dark bedroom and a ceiling above him.

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Tugged by a Red String [Emil || Richter]

Without the stress and constant need to move that came with saving the world, Emil had taken up the hobby of travelling. Initially, he had returned to Luin, and while he had stayed there temporarily, no amount of change could turn the lake-side city into a safe heaven. On it's own, Luin was quite beautiful and charming - clean and well-kept, having been restored twice over from damage it acquired in accidents without fail. Alas, the visual merits of the town did little to overpower the clear aura of fear and unease that seemed to follow him wherever he went. The citizens were, admittedly, less hostile, but it wasn't enough to make it feel like a "home."

Thus, he'd packed up his scarce belongings and the healthy sum of gald he'd acquired over his previous travels and set out. There had never been a set destination in mind, as long as it wasn't Luin, not for now, anyway, Emil was certain he'd be satisfied.

During his brief venture across Aselia, he'd found that he would return to the same spots multiple times. Most often Palmacosta and Izoold. He liked to think it was the ocean. Despite his less-than-satisfactory ability to swim beyond a doggy-paddle, he'd come to love the ocean. The cool, gentle breeze that blew over the water was relaxing, and the salty smell of the air had become something familiar to him. Yet Palmacosta was huge, and while he didn't bare a grudge against people, sometimes the larger population could be too much and he'd need to get away.

Somewhere along the line, he'd started to frequent Izoold more and more. It was a humble city, with all the enjoyable parts of the ocean, just on a smaller scale. He didn't have to worry about crowds or getting lost in the hustle and bustle of business. He could relax and move about at a leisurely place as he continued to adjust and try to make sense of his new-found freedom. The innkeeper had started to recognise his face, and even offered him kind discounts more often than not due to his frequent visits. It was just... nice.

It was still early morning when Emil slipped out of the inn, intending to make his way toward the port to acquire supplies for making breakfast. The man at the front desk had offered an all-too-tempting deal of a free bed in return for a home-cooked breakfast the following morning, and the young blond was more than willing to help.

Stretching, a small smile tugged at the corners of Emil's lips as he took off at a slight sprint away from the building - he didn't want to keep the owner waiting - only to collide with something warm and solid the moment he'd hit the dirt path that ran through the city. "A-ah...!" Stumbling, he let out a small yelp of surprise as he felt himself slip backwards under the loose footing of the pathway, heading for the ground back-first.

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Tugged by a Red String [Richter]

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Notes from the mun~

First and foremost, I'm going to admit this now, Emil is completely out of my normal character range. I normally do the darker and more serious types. People like Naoto Shirogane, Lion Magnus, Laurent, and Shadow the Hedgehog to name a few. It might take me a little while to properly grasp Emil's personality. But I'm always looking for advice and constructive criticism.

Sometimes I'll get a little artsy with the posts. It probably doesn't mean anything other than I was... well, getting artsy. Because it tends to be fun.

What else... I'll be writing this blog assuming post-Dawn of the New World. It makes it a little easier on me as far as personality traits go, and a little more wiggle-room to think and move. Also, we're assuming he's not in a relationship with Marta. Because it's my blog and I can. Also, I'm not a fan of them romantically - adorable friends though - but to each their own. I won't be blowing holes in ships. However, if you want to do something at some other point in time, just ask me. Really. I'll probably say yes.

I run a few other roleplay blogs, so if I'm a little slow in responding, I apologise in advance. I don't always immediately follow back, because there are a few different blogs attached to this one, and sometimes it's easier on me [since I'm in Uni] to spot a notification rather than a reply in a sea of posts on the dashboard. But if we get a thread going, I'll most likely follow you.

Uh... That's all for now, I suppose. If you have a question, just message me.

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You...

You could be a half-elf, 

or anything else for that matter,

and I'd like you just the same.