@sabuleum replied to your post “Wylan has appeared! What to do? Ravish Punch Ask...”:
...hug.
"Huh. You call that a hug? My spine is still in one piece."
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@sabuleum replied to your post “Wylan has appeared! What to do? Ravish Punch Ask...”:
...hug.
"Huh. You call that a hug? My spine is still in one piece."
@sabuleum sent: [bonks him] you can be useful all you want. but no dying on my watch.
That bonk would have been enough to send the swordsman stumbling had he not seen it coming. Emke had a way of telling when Wylan was sinking into a spot he shouldn’t go. There’s a lot of holes in his life, and reminiscing could feel like playing labyrinth when he rolled his thoughts back.
“Oh, how dramatic! Who said anything about dying now? Doubt I could manage it if I wanted to. Fate’s got a lot more in store for me, but... heh.” His voice catches for a moment, the mirth and amusement slipping away into pensiveness. The smile persists, but his tone is softer.
“Whenever it is I do hit my sunset, I wanna be able to look back and feel like I accomplished something and meant something. That everything I did sums up as more than a burden or passing annoyance. I don’t want legends, but it’d be nice if everything I did mattered.”
do you want a cane. y'know. to help you get around. (and also beat people with)
thank you... dear... sweet child... would you like a .... werthers original... for ur .... troubles?...
sabuleum:
She looks up without hesitation, unfazed as ever by the swordsman’s stormy tone and carriage. Felix is a connoisseur when it comes to arms– a fact she values far more than politeness or pleasantries– so whatever it is he’s brought is no doubt more interesting than the busywork she’d had underhand. “Something the merchants brought in, I’d guess? Let’s see it then.”
They always did like to chatter about some ‘exotic steel’ they’d picked up in their travels. Most of it amounted to fancy-looking iron with the lethal capacity of your average letter opener.
This isn’t that bad, of course. Fraldarius has a better eye than almost anyone, so the blade is solid and the welding quite seamless, with handsome details and the evidence of some real craftsmanship in the finery. Nevertheless, she feels what he suggested in an instant.
“No kidding.” the sheathed blade teeters between hands before she draws it out and points it away, twisting the hilt and tipping the point high and low. Firelight from the forge catches on seams and refracts in thin trails over her face, narrowed in scrutiny. “All that work shaping mythril only to have it’s counter-weighting botched.”
A few thrusts, and a mimicked cleave, further proving how much the forte dragged downward in each motion, before her eyes return to him,
“that smacks to me of someone hollowing the pommel. not a hard fix, if you’re asking; which I’d wager you are.”
Goddess knows it’s nice to speak with someone reasonable for a change. There’s barely anyone around who can have a serious talk about weapons. Everyone at the monastery is either woefully ignorant or incapable of being serious for longer than thirty seconds. Watching her wield the blade and test it out is refreshing. His eyes follow the blade, nodding as she moves it this way and that, demonstrating the faults that Felix himself experienced in his own tests.
Really, he expects better. Sure it’s just the monastery marketplace, but if it weren’t for the quality of the material (and, okay, the design of its hilt), Felix would have just bought himself another silver sword, of the variety mass-produced for the monastery. He crosses his arms, shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “You see what I mean. The blade itself is nice, but the way it is now it’d only slow me down.” Sure, there’s value in practising with blades of different weights and quality, but there’s plenty of cheap swords on the market. This one, however , is too expensive for him to be weighed down by it.
“Do what you must. I want to be able to use it.” He gestures to the sword, offering that she might hold onto it until the job is done. Felix knows plenty about using swords, but when it comes to crafting them, repairing them, or augmenting them, he usually leaves that to the experts. Some people prefer to lean over the blacksmith, offering unhelpful pointers and generally hindering the work. Felix? Not so much. Reaching into his jacket for his coin pouch, Felix asks, simply, “How much?”
I'm here to tell you that I!! adore you!! following you is such a treat, your Robin is an absolute treasure who you clearly pour so much love and effort into; and you just bring so much /joy/ to my dash... I'm vvvvvvv grateful for you and your boy
*:・゚✧ WH— HEWWO?????? THIS IS SO SWEET WHAT THE FUCK IM LOVE U???
thank u so much!! im!!! honestly a lil stuck for words bc thats?? so nice??? just,,, tysm!! u absolutely fuckin right tho u goddamn baller i am so goddamn passionate about this boy he will be my downfall
but thank u again!!! ;__;
very serious vines. / ( acc. ) / @sabuleum
‘ do you ever like wake up and do something and you’re just like what the hec– fuck is goin on ’
“ ... Aye. I believe so. ”
Most days, truthfully.
“ I... suppose today is such a day for you? ”
@sabuleum // sc
— “ now what do we do ? ” trift starts counting on his fingers as he recounts their adventures . “ we’ve bought bunnies , released them into the wild , talked about your adherent power things , had a race , and now we’re sitting on a rock . ” he pats said rock with his other hand .
after a moment of thought , eyebrows raise as he’s struck with an idea . “ i know !! ” he holds up his ( affectionately named ) hammerspace pouch to emké and smiles . “ we can look through this . i bet there’s something in here that’s cool . ”
♫ ain’t nobody fuckin’ wit’ my clique ♪