#determinedmagi

[cosmosfated]

Is he staring at Rhowen with exasperation? Yes. Is he going to say anything about what he's doing? No.

Nobody wants to talk about monster anatomy.

Nobody.

Not even someone NAMED Nobody.

[ghostlypacifist-blog]

@determined-magi

How’d he end up here...? This wasn’t his own timeline. It was an accident, this place was completely unfamiliar to him. Perhaps someone could help him out? The spirit floated forward, glancing around to see if other lifeforms were nearby. “...hello...?”

[cosmosfated]

[determined-magi] Don't mind Thannor, he'll help himself on sniffing where the catnip is at. Tail swinging playfully as he begins to chuff and attempt to nib at the recipent before grabbing it with both hands and figure out how to open it.

  “ah-ah-ah!”

  Fleur bats at Thannor’s hands, not letting him grab at it or take it from his sight. Thank goodness for gravity spells. He frowns  (thankfully he doesn’t fully on scowl at seeing the familiar face...)  but he does also find himself sighing. 

  “that’s not yours. back off.”

  He didn’t think that a human person would be a problem with him carrying catnip on his person. He knows it was mentioned in the past that there would be a susceptible nature to it but he never intended to USE IT! 

  “not. yours.”

  He says with a bit more of a heavy warning to his tone.   That catnip was expensive. He’s not going to just let anybody have it.

@determined-magi

[cosmosfated]

@determined-magi  ( Thanneth )    continued from here.

         ── He hadn’t meant to be so distant.

  His fingers are ever careful, ever particular about where he places the pads of his fingers along the skin. Feather ends, tight skin, torn and rough and calloused from several moments where reality weathered and frayed and smelled like hair curling back from intense heat. He knows what it’s like, to an extent, drowning in yourself so much that the world is suffocating;   he knows, at the very least, what it’s like to drown, to suffocate, to burn beneath yourself and have no way out because, well, IT’S YOU!

  He had drawn his fingers against his patient’s skin, against  HER  skin ever so gently, hoping not to aggravate her or make her want to lash out against him. He knew what it could do, having a near stranger have their fingers press against something so sacred, so hidden away as scars from something they do not know about. But his curiosity made him press just a little bit more, let his touch linger, and apparently that was  ENOUGH  for her.

  In a blinding flash of white hot pain, his back is against the wall and he feels the sudden movement wrench a sharp, ragged cough or two from his throat. He feels his blood in his mouth, as if his own terribly sharp teeth had pierced right through his tongue and spilled the familiar crimson against his palette, washing away the sweet taste of watermelon bubble tea with awful copper. It stings, it burns, and his vision kicks up stars the way tires squealing upon a back road does with gravel and dirt. The agony of something being not quite right in his body makes him move, at first, and then he winces as he gags on both the pain and the blood that leaks from the corners of his mouth as it bubbles over past his lips.

  “d-damn, that’s... hah,” he hisses a bit under his breath and he slowly takes a deep breath. The lack of ability to breathe tells him a few things:  one, something is restricting his breaths. Two, that something is in his chest. Three, judging by the sensation he can immediately recognize as a broken bone past the adrenaline kicking through his system, he probably has a broken rib.   Or three.   Just a hunch he has. Not to mention the fact that something in his back is also probably fractured or broken. He needs to sit here and not move for a few minutes, so his regeneration can take care of his back for him. “─  no worry. it’s been worse.”

  He readjusts himself, coughing up some of the blood in his mouth onto the floor and holding up his left hand by instinct. Is it to say   ‘don’t come closer’   or   ‘I’m not here to hurt you’  ? Who knows.  HE  certainly doesn’t.

  “thanneth? could you take a few deep breaths for me? i won’t move from my spot, here. we can keep our distances from each other and we both can reach a consensus of we won’t hurt each other... again, at least. i realize i overstepped my boundaries a little bit there. i must have triggered some awful memories for you. i didn’t mean to hurt you the way that i did. i’ll be sure to avoid it in the future, or warn you that i have to tread near it. you just have to let me come close to you again, okay? so i can patch up your new wound, and give you your medication so you can relax and get some sleep.” His voice is calm and paced evenly, welcoming and hopeful and everything soft despite how he’s clearly struggling to breathe through the broken bones.

[cosmosfated]

L*st Dream

   Being mostly away from the world, it’s a relief.  Very few people bother you, and those that do you can kick out.  Usually, at least.  Some annoy you constantly but that’s the price paid for something like that.

   Unfortunately for him now, though, he has to step back into his old royal colors and go see the seven Mages.  He can only hope that the LOVE and Execution Points hasn’t gone completely to their heads.  He’s not one to talk, but he won’t really be in the position to be swaying things in his favor.  Not when he lied to them for so long... sort of?  That’s a bit of an iffy topic, truth be told.

   Sigh!  Nonetheless.

   His eyes drift over to where a few of his summons are standing guard as he heads towards where his instincts, and magics, are telling him to go.  Aw, it seems like his concern for the Mages in question has transferred over to his summons.  That’s... concerning, actually.  He needs to fix that.  He can’t show people so easily who he cares for, that’s bad juju. 

   The LOVE in the air is stifling as he walks.  He looks unaffected but that’s really thanks to his medication.  ( he ought to give prometheus his sincerest gratitude after this... )  Without batting an eye but with a gentle smile and his typical illusion down, he’s careful about not aggravating any feelings of destruction or chaos sewn into them or their minds, or anyone else’s for that matter.  His aura is a natural combatant in that vein for everybody ... sadly excluding himself.  Him being easy to talk to is natural on several regards.

   “─ i’ve an appointment, i believe, with some old friends.”

@determined-magi

[cosmosfated]

A Royal Affair

   As promised, and as requested, he had wasted little time in getting prepared after he took care of the rites that were long overdue.  He’s truly unsure if they were ever allowed to get rest without those rites, or if his squandering of the time he had to do so was forcing them to stay.  He’d not hold anyone back if he’s got any say in the matter.  Not anymore.  It’s time for him to return the favor, giving a hand up to stand means helping out when your guiding presence needs guidance as well.

   A quick shower, necessary so that he didn’t have traces of grave dirt on him, and a tonic of old to aid in some recovery of his strength and magic.  It’s not something he enjoys, but he’s heard quite enough of the situation in another timeline.  He knows that his time to handle the royal affair he’s been leading up to is beginning to run out.

   He’ll keep his word, but he cannot expect others to do the same.    Much to his dismay, truly.

   To his surprise, it feels far more comfortable than he thought it would.  Maybe that’s because this is made from old fabric gifted by the Star Elves.  Those folks always prided themselves on the most comfortable of elven fabrics, even the haughty sun elves had to agree.  He hates taking sides, but... their fabric is always the nicest.  The coat came next, and the hanging strips of ethereal looking fabric gave his outfit a more welcoming feel.  Perhaps to cancel out his admittedly strong magical aura?

   He’s not sure.

   Fleur smiles and offers his gratitude to Doc in the form of a brief hug, only to bind the coat up to cover up his vest and shirt.  The lace is far less irritating than he recalls, though this is Doc’s handiwork and not that of the royal tailor’s.  Doc knows how finicky he is with his shirts and coats.  Made to the person’s needs.  Doc has at least that going for him in terms of being on good footing with him.  Nonetheless, then he folds up the scarf to put it in his coat  (Inventory, really, but why bother with semantics?)  and summon a really normal cane out of thin air.

   Best to not take his actual cane, hidden weapons aren’t going to be well received, he’d assume.  He has to make a good first impression, after all.  That’s how he’ll win them over.

   It’s a simple step through worlds that leads him to the place where he’d said he’d be, checking his phone for but a moment to make certain of the time and, yup, right on schedule.  Excellent!  Not a moment too soon or too late.  That gets him to relax a bit.  All according to plan, so far.  Plan D, that is.  As the time ticks over to ten minutes before the hour, he walks calmly to the gates, illusion down and aura perhaps a bit disorienting at first for someone who would normally deem him human.  It certainly doesn’t help that he does legitimately exude the royal mannerisms, elegance that looks to come easy (but honestly doesn’t, for him).

   “pardon me,”  his voice is easy to listen to, gentle and melodic.  “i’m here to meet with his majesty? i’m ten minutes early, i know, but it’s a better thought to come ten early rather than ten late, no? ah, my name is fleur scéim, the representative of mérivura. if he’s busy currently, then i’m capable of waiting.”  His schedule is purposefully clear for the rest of the day as it is, for a variety of things.

[cosmosfated]

Anonymous said: [ @determined-magi ] Is that a knock in a way? Yep... well, more like a dog's pawing at a door really. Though where's the door? There's no door anywhere around. " Hey drama boy, hellooo? Miss me? I bet you did~. " The tone is awfully cheery, despite the fox's having witnessed that wreck. " Mind a little moment? I think you could use a little chat, if you're not as busy. "

   There’s an unamused look cast the concept’s way.  He really doesn’t have the patience nor care to deal with such things right now.  He narrows his eyes a little bit more, the fire within them burning with such an intense cold heat that ice burns would feel warm.

   “Now’s really not the time for this, Reality. Can I get a rain check to a day where I’ll remember the conversation or are you going to disregard my personal boundaries yet again because it’s important.”

   His voice is edged with aggression, stemming from exhaustion both physical and emotional.  Mentally─ well, there’s no rest for the wicked.

[cosmosfated]

Southeast Winds

   He had told himself not to step foot into the timeline with the other mages unless he was speaking to them directly. He knows how dangerous it is for him right now, knows how things may turn out. His nerves had started to jump and shake and jitter upon the very thought of visiting them. He'd already messed up too much, who knows if they wanted to see him?

   But then he had a new thought. One that could genuinely work.

   So he donned his rich and vibrant colors (or what was left of them anyway...), and then draped himself in blacks and greys. If you can trick the clock into thinking you've given in to its machinations like everyone else, the colors stay a little longer. He just needs the ORANGE and GOLD to stay, the others weren't so important. At least, they weren't needed for THIS.

   And with that, he dips out of the timeline and into another, over to a place where he had met a particular vixen. He knows well of Intent, and knows how to shape it so that whoever is watching knows what he wants. It's a smile that accompanies a shift in Intent normally seen as recklessness into something more steady and true. This would not be their normal discussion, if he could make it work. Yes, if he could make this work, it would be...very, very interesting.

   "i know you're typically not the one on speed dial, but could i ask your audiences?" Said softly but with no shortage of steel and certainty to his voice. He does have to stop after the question to cough into his handkerchief for a few moments, but that's getting normal these days. "i shouldn't be too long." Can't afford to waste what he doesn't have, after all.