#sidereius

[riguangs]

location : outside of a hidden workshop ⏲ aurea from : zhou lian , liege of house zhou to : aurel , [ @sidereius ]

a puff of smoke, an ember of fire that dies. the room fills with an odd smell of rotten vegetables, and lian heaves a sigh. a thunk echoes through the empty room as he lays his head on the open notebook, a sign of another failed experiment. he supposes this is not the worst conclusion to one, having blown up this room a few times to know that when things go bad, they go really bad. however, even that thought does not alleviate the disappointment of failure. with a huff, he reaches for the pen and takes notes, handwriting more scribbly and half-heartedly than usual. a glance outside the small windows at the top of the workshop, it's easy to spot it's later in the day, and with this turn of events, he feels no motivation to continue. deciding to head out- to maybe go to a market or a tavern, he tidies up behind himself. shutting the notebook close and arranging the books. pouring the contents of the cauldron and filling it up with water. the workshop is still messy as usual, yet it is a more controlled mess than before. a pleased hum, he tucks the strands of hair back into the ponytail before pushing his chair back to its position. a hand wraps around the doorknob of the door, and opens it as usual, closing behind himself — and exactly then he's faced with a stranger, who has perhaps even caught a glimpse of the room where no one else has seen before. lian's heartbeat spikes, and he pulls the handle of the door even further, to make sure it's closed, the lock falling into space. the enchantment will follow later — not when he has more pressing matters at hand. "hi- hello there —" even if his tone wavers a little in nerves, he clears his throat. "are you lost? where were you trying to go?"

[breweri]

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞.  the  balneary  of  the  temple  of  sunfyre,  after  having  been  prodded  in  with  a  stick. 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧.  @sidereius's  aurel,  plaything  and  protectee.

like  most  things  in  his  life,  this  is  kastor's  fault.  a  kinder,  more  positive  influence  would  have  gracefully  lowered  his  head  and  sunk  into  the  tub  as  gently  as  he  could,  disturbing  the  water  as  little  as  possible.  or,  rather,  a  kinder,  more  positive  influence  wouldn't  be  in  this  position  to  begin  with,  covered  in  muck  and  filth  and  whatever  his  fellow  patron  spewed  all  over  him  last  night  when  kas  had  dropped  some  pithy  one-liner.  that  bothered  him,  actually.  he  was  proud  of  the  reaction,  but  he  could  never  remember  the  gag.  that  was  why  his  brow  was  furrowed  when  he  clambered  in,  splashing  every  which  way  in  equal  parts  consternation  and  absentmindedness.  and  then,  just  now,  when  he  almost  slipped,  that  was  because  he'd  been  slumping  petulantly  against  the  side.  if  he  had  any  sense,  he'd  have  propped  his  arms  up  on  the  rim  —  to  make  the  little  priest's  job  easier,  or  to  save  himself  from  the  potential  of  this  mishap,  either  worked  —  and  thwarted  the  humiliation.

as  it  stands,  his  nose  and  eyes  both  sting  and  one  foot  remains  stuck  in  the  air  and  the  towel  that  had  been  wrapped  around  his  shoulders  floats  pathetically  in  front  of  him  like  the  world's  saddest  lily  pad.  slowly,  he  wrings  it  dry  and  returns  it  to  its  rightful  place,  scooting  into  a  proper  position  and  leaning  back  so  that  his  dampened  locks  dangle  over  the  lip.  kastor  clears  his  throat.  ❝  we  will  not  be  speaking  of  that,  ❞  he  says  firmly.  that  he  is  trying  his  hardest  to  avoid  eye  contact,  neither  turning  over  his  shoulder  nor  looking  down  into  their  reflection,  is  just  a  tad  too  obvious.  ❝  in  fact,  i  don't  think  anything  happened  at  all.  do  you  ?  ‘course  you  don’t.  ‘cause  you’re  a  good  kid.  y'know,  in  between  all  of  those  contemplative  looks  you've  been  lost  in  lately.  ❞ 

all  embarrassment  seemingly  forgotten,  kas  flings  a  few  droplets  behind  him.  childish,  he  knows,  even  as  the  word  kid  falls  from  his  lips  and  his  other  hand  stretches  out  to  ruffle  curls  much  cleaner  and  softer  than  his. there is much of the lad as appears superior to this man over a decade their senior. praise be to whichever deity, be it the lady honored by this temple or otherwise, who continues to make it so. ❝  go  on,  then.  i  reckon  you  won't  be  satisfied  'til  i  smell  of  incense  and  piety.  ❞  his  words  are  not  unkind;  one  could  even  dare  to  claim  a  glimmer  of  anticipation  in  his  impish  grin.