#|( ludger )|

[sengetsujin-archive]

@thalassus

Ludger flapped his hand in front of Percy’s face (hey, hey--!), calling for his attention. Once that was gained, he started making shooing motions to the side, before pointing to the TV. You’re in the way of his superhero show, Perc’. 

[sengetsujin-archive]

kiss 👁

@thalassus | meme 

Humans were such interesting creatures. Sirens–well, his family, especially (the only sirens he knew, certainly) were all alike. His brother was perhaps the most removed, but even still–he still had no qualms about luring sailors to their doom. Made it a competition, even, with another of the more bloodthirsty of the clan.

In this moment of reprieve, he held Percy’s wrist, turning his hand side to side in curious inspection. His own hands would look the same if viewed ‘pon mundane ways–it was only when he let the Mist subside that they’d be viewed as they were; claws instead nails. Granted, even without glamour they didn’t stand out too much–he was, perhaps, the only one on the island interested in manicures and keeping his nails clean and trim and not covered in dried blood and kelp and whatever else everyone seemed to think was cool. But he’d wager a bet that wasn’t Percy’s aesthetic, for which he was grateful. 

Instead, his hands were calloused, rough from time at sea. Scarred from battles and misfortunes he’d lived through–he rubbed a thumb ‘gainst the other’s palm, quite in marvel over the feel. Sure, there were sirens with rough hands, but he hadn’t liked them enough (or thought their hands clean enough) to get all touchy with. He quite liked the feeling. So much so–his head dipped down as he brought Percy’s hand up–but no, that was too forward, lips hovering just above knuckles.

There’re a few breathy huffs that are his laughter as he pulls back, withdrawing his hand for a quick motion over his chest–’sorry’.

almost kiss - interest/curiosityknuckle kiss - protectiveness

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“ my mind is made up. ”

@thalassus

And that was the problem! His arms flailed in wild gesturing–there was no meaning, aside from the wordless frustration coming through, punctuated by the strangled squeaks and ‘hmphs’ that signaled how difficult remaining silent was at that time. He could solve the problem by speaking–and trust him, he had words to say–but that seemed, well… It seemed wrong, using his voice to get whatever he wanted so easily. It’d make him like the others–or was the intent enough to make it different…?

Whatever, the moral debate was unnecessary and took attention away from his frustration towards Percy. Of which there was a lot, as his shrugging and flailing turned more to pantomime, pointing in the direction the hardheaded human intended to go, then making it clear the sort of deaths he’d find down that road. They were not nice. Did you get that Percy? That was the way the other sirens lay and–he was walking. Great.

Out went that energy as shoulders slumped, drama apparent as he stared after the foolhardy human for a moment before dragging his feet into motion. He couldn’t just leave the boy to die alone.

What a troublemaker. 

[sengetsujin-archive]

getting stranded's never been his cup of tea – then again, being landlocked's always left a bad impression on percy. still, there aren't any escape routes that are looking especially bright just yet. it isn't until he's about to start shoving sticks into the sand that he spots something – someone? – in the water. he almost deadpans for half a second before wading into the waves. "hey, uh–hey! think i can get a hand over here?!"

He doesn’t like being in the water. Look, okay, so he lived on an island. He was unhappy with his state of wetness a lot. In this case, however, it had seemed his best bet at getting a little look-see at the stranded sailor. It’d be his only chance--this one had washed ashore farther from the wreck than anticipated. No one else was nearby, and if he wanted to get a little lookie-lou without getting caught--

Except he wasn’t half as sneaky as he wanted to be; cloud-colored hair apparently didn’t blend in with the sea-foam tops of waves much as he thought. The sound of speech--what a strange sound! no undertones of magic or ire--startled the being, a gasp bringing in only salty water that caught in his throat. Sputtering, he straightened, lifting head and shoulders from the sea.

   “I--sh--”   Wait, no, he can’t speak to a human. He was a siren--anything out of his mouth wouldn’t sound of words or speech but promises and dreams. He floundered for a moment longer, mouth and hands in constant state of moving in indecision of how to proceed, shoulders hunched up, and he couldn’t decide whether to try getting closer or just submerge himself and try swimming away. Except, well, that’d take a while and probably look pretty silly. 

Instead both hands shot out, palm open towards the young man, making placating motions. He wasn’t sure if this one could read hands--’til then he ought keep to simple charades, right? A slow step closer, another--now his hands shifted and he pointed towards the beach. That seemed an obvious cue. It was strange, seeing how similar humans were to them, and yet how different. No hidden fangs or claws, voices flat and devoid of magic--

   Maybe he could save this one.

[sengetsujin-archive]

@llutus let’s go trick-or-treating

[sengetsujin-archive]

@ofstarsandskies | from this ask

   Couldn’t say he was all that happy to see someone so close to his own visage so soon. Running away was supposed to ensure there was less real life mirroring’s happening. Who knew nightmares were so relentless in their chase. 

   Well, that was an overstatement. It was just exhausting and weird being around them. He felt--especially out of place for some reason. Nothing like seeing a bunch of other you’s to get that whole ‘self-doubt’ thing going. He didn’t know if he measured up well against the others. Or if--any of the others were--like him. 

   So letting the other in, well, guess he’d just given up and admitted defeat. The guy was just a bit too friendly and willful for him to fight against too long. Even if he did look all bitter about. And--oh, great. Hugging. Just what he wanted. More contact. Ugh. And it irked him all the more seeing this one act so, so--cute? Was he even allowed to call someone with his face cute. Pissed him off. But, well, he guessed a lot of that anger wasn’t really... directed towards the other after all. 

   Hearing him say he’d give up destroying dimensions was a relief though, were it true. His shoulders relaxed a bit at that, at least. A bit less worry about a knife in his back. Didn’t know if he could really trust it, but this one seemed--too consistently friendly to be such a liar. Then again, who knew how wrong he could be. Leaving--should he let it go like that? Without speaking a word? Even among--especially among--the others he had difficulties letting his voice be heard. It was--different from theirs, after all. Higher, even as he struggled to keep it a low tone. 

       “ Hey. “     The word came out forceful and--thankfully--not too high-pitched. Guess being grumpy had its perks after all. Feet not-quite-stomped to catch up to the one leaved, a rough hand reaching out, up, fingers ruffling through dual-toned hair of another. Somewhat--affectionate. Maybe. Maybe just a way to get attention directed back to him, to get the other to pause. 

       “ Thanks. Sorry for--biting. “     Grumble, grumble. Talking was awful, especially in comparison to the other’s voice but--         “ I don’t kill anymore either, if it helps. And--don’t ever hug me again. I don’t... do contact. “     Seriously. Not unless there was quite a bond there--and there wasn’t so far. Having (roughly) the same body didn’t mean he was okay with getting all touchy-feelsy. Didn’t even like touching himself, honestly. 

       “ So--I should call you something other than, ‘the friendly one’. You got a nickname--? “

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@formermaxwell

   What a secluded place. Hard to get to, walled off away from cliffs and ravines and treacherous mountain paths, the place dominated by a school and a handful other buildings--Gododdin? Something like that. It was hard to think clearly, what with malevolence weighing down, cloaking the barren landscape under its aura. It’d be best to get this done quickly, so he could get Elle out of here. 

   So, to start, find the source of the malevolence. Asking around would do--Shepherds were common enough these days to be rather well respected. Something about two holy sisters, that everything was under control, no need for an outside Shepherd to interfere, they’re in the school if you need reassurance--well, the malevolence certainly spoke against that. But it was a lead, and a pretty solid one, he guessed. 

   Path decided, he headed towards the school, pausing only as a figure came out. Tall, and long flowing hair--and violent expression, darkened only further by the malevolence radiating out. So, there was one cause of the taint. Now, to find out who that was, and if she was the only one. He waited for the woman to turn, towards the back of town after striding opposite his direction before continuing on, taking somewhat hesitant steps before pushing open the door. Peering in first, before properly entering to meet a sight of hallway, with lone occupant. And her face--was it red? That mark--

       “ Ex...cuse me? “

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@abbeylancer | @requiemfromthenight

  Great. First he fails his first job’s interview--with his brother, no less--and now this, on the way to the second. Did he really have to deal with this? Couldn’t he just kind of--not?

  Eyes flit over to the Pendrago inn he was supposed to report to--it wasn’t that far away. Just across the square, and he didn’t even need to go by the commotion. That was happening in the middle, near the fountain, all he had to do was stick close by the walls, the buildings--oh, hey, how long had that poster been there? Yellowed, torn, nigh unreadable--and completely irrelevant. Just a distraction to keep from paying attention to what was happening, unseen to most passerby. Where were the other gifted church officials when they could actually be put to use? Sent off where needed or stuffed inside sacred walls or whatnot, probably.

  Oh, who was he kidding. He was going over there. This was a bad idea. And that bad idea showed on his face. Sweaty, frowning, annoyed with himself and the situation.

  With Shepherds becoming more common, resonance becoming less a myth and urban legend, you’d think a hellion wouldn’t show its face in a place where one branch of holy officials called base. Yet there it was, plain as day, a snarky little goblin and nothing around to challenge its taint. Amazing. And from the strange sensation just from looking at the girl, a seraph--why no one else with resonance was around was a mystery. And annoying.

  He didn’t have a way to purify it. This was a really, really bad idea. Regardless, there settled the would-be chef between seraph and hellion, stance wide and combat ready (though he’d regretfully not brought weapons, what with recent career change and all--)

      “ Just stay behind me. “

  Not a loud voice--he really didn’t speak much. But the scenario seemed to call for him to say something. Let the two know he could see them. Aaaaand--great, there went the goblin with some cackling. Not that he could blame it; facing off against a hellion with nothing right after failing a Shepherd’s exam wasn’t exactly a bright move.

  Nice job, Ludger. Way to start a day off right.