#singularitei

[fonzeworth]

@singularitei said: With the battle finally coming to an end and a cursory glance not finding any more enemies, Kairos breathes a sigh of relief, trembling hand falling to their side, fingertips red and angry and begging for rest. The toll that came with unrestrained firepower and all… But they cannot rest yet, can they? There is one more thing still lingering in their mind, and as they pass through the havoc of shattered bones, the figures on the ground and the attempt at a fire bring such thought to the forefront. A shock of white and a light blue coat, features they recognize from before the avalanche, searching the remains of the secured convoy in a haste. Their most likely option, right now. Kairos waits for no one and wastes no time, pistol still held in one hand, not quite willing to put away that one shred of safety just yet. "You were the one searching the middle cart, were you not?" Straight to the point, not even bothering with the trivialities of introductions. ( it is not important. no one needs that which they will not remember. they will be gone as soon as safer paths arise, and no one will see them again. ) "Did you find a journal amongst the confiscated items?" Their tone doesn't betray even the faintest hint of emotion, cold, composed, their expression carefully neutral and the end of their tail smoothly curling at their side. watching, waiting. / can you BLINK??? post-session 2. | accepting.

Gloved hands sink into the remains of the avalanche their convoy has barely avoided—it had since settled, perfect for the dead weight it endures from everyone that gathered around the meek flame that could only slowly melt away snow at the risk of dying shortly after. While the sole individual who did not require flame, Elias still needed the break, if only to acclimate to his surroundings and let the font of magic within settle down and let go of the surrounding aether. Had the undead continued to miss their attempts at strikes, it wouldn't have become to dire so quickly for the four of them next to the worm, but...

..for all the blood spilled some fifty feet ahead, it was, unfortunately, quite fun. It'd been awhile since Elias could flex his sorcery like that since stepping into Lavalle territory again.

He doesn't get much time to daydream, though, as a flat voice from above him demands his attention, and he stares up to find an unfamiliar face instead. Had it not been for the icy eyes, this strangely horned tiefling would probably blend into any crowd. Elias doesn't answer quickly, and instead takes a moment to figure out exactly what's staring at him, unblinkingly. Not a hint of anything but the question at hand. Interesting.

"Uh huh. I managed to get under the caravan in time," he answers easily enough. His eyes spot the gun at their side, and trembling fingertips at the other, red and angry. Immediately, he could tell it was overuse of fire-like magic, brows furrowing some in concern. It would wear off, much like the frostbite that Elias would endure upon testing his physical limits, but...

Ah, well, either way, this was probably the owner of the journal based on appearance alone. But, there were other unnamed individuals he wasn't familiar with just the same. He may has well confirm if the insanity on paper matched the apathy of the author, though he was certain this was the guy to begin with. "Mm—can you describe it for me?"

[fonzeworth]

@singularitei said: A moment to ensure the two now appointed to guard duty take up their post, and Kairos feels... not quite safe, but at least secure enough to try and sleep for the night. ( there is no safety here, only survival. ) They find a good enough spot, sit down, and quietly bring their hands together, watching as the bundle of fabric stitches itself into existence in front of them. Not something they would've quite wanted to do in front of anyone else, but— most of the wayward, makeshift party is asleep, and they are tired, weary after such a long journey forced upon them and looking forward to a slightly more peaceful shut eye. By the time Elias returns from his own shift, Kairos is fast asleep, knees bent and pulled just a little closer, as if they were trying to fit in a bed just a size too small rather than the uneven ground of the cave. As if they were trying to go unnoticed, taking up less space than they need. Their back is against the wall, as if that really offers any additional layer of safety, quiet and motionless— except for the tail, curled around to drape over themselves in their sleep, too long to entirely tuck under blankets, the end covered in fur sticking out from the side, occasionally twitching and flicking. Whether they are dreaming or not, whatever they are seeing if so, it hardly looks like a serene rest, doesn't it? No wonder there seems to be that layer of exhaustion always lingering, always draped over their shoulders. What has made them this way? / bug in a jar confirmed. | accepting.

Much of the second watch goes by quickly, a fellow Estalvean to chat with and easygoing company made conversation easy enough between the three of them, even with the gruffness that that contrasted with the prisoners on the loose. Any activity inside the cave proper stays there, Elias happily distracted until it's finally time to pick the last shift. After the mess that was the ambush, Elias opts to let Zinnea and Ain rest, especially after dealing with the sudden scare that had the spellcasters scrambling and hoping their big Owlin friend wouldn't succumb to the bone worm that had a moment of combat clarity...

That left Cirrus, and then, the sorcerer could finally settle back down and lay flat on his back.

Of course, leave it to the feather duster of a tail to distract him, crimson flicking idly at random intervals, perhaps mimicking active sleep. Now, Kairos had made it clear from positioning along they wanted nothing to do with the group of stragglers, but to be cooped up in the corner of the cave like this, forgoing the pleasantries of a warm flame... they couldn't have been scared, could they? No, certainly not. Whether it was apathy or confidence, or a strange miracle of both, Elias was surprised he didn't find them stretched out entirely. Did they simply not have a bedroll long enough...?

( ... maybe it would benefit to write down this stuff if they're not in the mood to share, perhaps...? )

He had field notes on hand as it was, an auxiliary hobby that was packed up in the herbalist's kit that was kept on his person. After some minutes, idly debating on the logistics and the notion of privacy that Kairos would be no longer afforded, well—what was the worst that could happen? A bunch of people already skimmed through their journal and he was intending on taking that violation to the grave. What's another one, at this point? He inevitably takes out a small leatherbound notebook, pages hand tied with matching laces that kept the parchment to the spine. A glass pen is revealed along with a vial of ink. Most of the journal is full of flora and fauna, the beginning around Dovania, and the ones in the middle in the annexed territory. A few blank pages later, and Elias picks a fresh section to start scribbling down his notes, quietly sketching out specific details on Kairos—namely the more stark contrasting ones like their horns, tail, and eyes—among a few other observations he's picked up on the way.

Something to ask in the morning... did they sleep well?