khorvidae
⠀ ⠀𝜗𝜚
J'wynevier's silence is palpable. The name he chose was that of his impersonator; ironic, isn't it? Luckily for Basch, she knew Gabranth, albeit on impersonal bases; more of him. A few hapless circumstances led her to the tips of his blades. Fortunately, sense sunk in before his swords had. With the few close encounters she hazarded, not once had the man's bare face been in view. It was always obscured by that ridiculous helmet of his; it's as though he was incapable of deciding between a pilot's goggles and capra horns.
J'wynevier mulled over the woven tale laid out before her. She peered back at Basch, clearly irritated but clement in her hunt to discover him in full and that damned scar. What's worse is that he didn't even look like a liar either, which annoyed her more. And while she risked their safety in scrutinizing him, she couldn't seem to convince herself to care.
Ashe had reclined in her seat at that point, finding something beyond the ship more intriguing. J'wyn let out a semi-relieved breath once, content to let the moment pass.
“Vaan claims to have seen Gabranth in the dungeons where they found Basch.” Ashe offered unprompted, as if to add credibility. J'wyn hummed noncommittally, tapping her fingers against the handle to an imaginary rhythm. Give her a break. It's not like she didn’t understand they were two different people, she just hadn't the visuals to confirm. Her mouth contorted into an awkward pout, puckered and vexed. She sucked in her cheek, clicking her tongue suddenly with a new revelation.
“It's alright,” J'wyn huffed. “I just hope “the truth” is as ideal as you make it sound.” Willing to believe it as she posed, it refused to settle in her mind. Rather, J'wyn peeked at her side. “So, what's your deal?”
“My deal?” Ashe echoed.
“Yeah, your deal. Your shtick.” She noticed the blonde's reluctance to answer, sighing loudly in response. Ashe frowned, crossing her arms and avoiding J'wyn's question at all costs. “What? Are you a princess or somethin’?”
Ashe's head whipped toward her. Her gaze held steady over J'wyn's, so hard it'd kill. In truth, the redhead was determined to pretend she couldn't feel it or notice how opulent the reaction she roused was. When her gaze fled, a smirk drew across her face. Weak poker face. It's not like she was entirely ignorant of important people; especially that of Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca. She didn't catch it right away, only mildly suspicious for a while, but now? And with that reaction? Now it's all J’wyn could think about. If Basch was capable of prevailing despite being convicted of high treason, who's to say that the princess of Dalmasca truly took her life?
Through thick walls, a tremble and groan echoed in protest to the resistance of the heavy wind against the hull. It's an illusion that fuzzies the vision, like anxiety when turbulence sets in and makes one's teeth chatter. It causes unease, no doubt, shutting down concurrent conversations and giving pause to the work and maintenance being performed until the noise either abates or they plummet to the floor below. Fortune shone upon them that day, and they were on their merry way, ambling down the steel-gilded path with only their boots and collectively shuffling to fill the void.
Bergan found it within himself to tame his head, and Vayne hadn't much to contribute. A mindless dawdle to the next location, and they were within the humid chambers of the Pisces hangar as planned – as promised. Yet, Cid was nowhere to be found. They were close, just not that close. Fair enough, Vayne's able to reason it out, chalk it up to nerves. The ‘kweh’s from nearby chocobo pique a tenderness in his chest, and the corners of his mouth twitched ever so subtly to expose that fact. He's intent on being stubborn, upholding an image, so his arms crossed once he was stationary, and he waited.
Liraz’s warning is what inspired Bergan to speak again, looking Vayne up and down indiscreetly. “You should─”
“I haven't need.” His attempt to even his tone failed, but it's effective in warding off the Judge. Regardless, the prince was more than content in his insulated wool coat and layers of metal. If it came to desperate measures, he possessed his own little arsenal and, if rumors were to be believed, he was quite the natural blast furnace and, if nothing else, Bergan was there. This part of the ship would warm them before the treacherous journey ahead; he just hoped it wouldn't take long.
"Are you certain?" Bergan waited so long between, Vayne was caught off guard and clueless. A moment recollection and he's left with nothing more than a damning side-eye. At times, he sounded like his father.
"Five minutes 'til landing." Some miscellaneous ship-keep hollered down the hall. Good, Cid should be on his way then. They would hate to leave without him. And how horrible would it be for the host to be the one late to the party? That just wouldn't do. Not for Cidolfus.
J'wynevier mulled over the woven tale laid out before her. She peered back at Basch, clearly irritated but clement in her hunt to discover him in full and that damned scar. What's worse is that he didn't even look like a liar either, which annoyed her more. And while she risked their safety in scrutinizing him, she couldn't seem to convince herself to care.
Ashe had reclined in her seat at that point, finding something beyond the ship more intriguing. J'wyn let out a semi-relieved breath once, content to let the moment pass.
“Vaan claims to have seen Gabranth in the dungeons where they found Basch.” Ashe offered unprompted, as if to add credibility. J'wyn hummed noncommittally, tapping her fingers against the handle to an imaginary rhythm. Give her a break. It's not like she didn’t understand they were two different people, she just hadn't the visuals to confirm. Her mouth contorted into an awkward pout, puckered and vexed. She sucked in her cheek, clicking her tongue suddenly with a new revelation.
“It's alright,” J'wyn huffed. “I just hope “the truth” is as ideal as you make it sound.” Willing to believe it as she posed, it refused to settle in her mind. Rather, J'wyn peeked at her side. “So, what's your deal?”
“My deal?” Ashe echoed.
“Yeah, your deal. Your shtick.” She noticed the blonde's reluctance to answer, sighing loudly in response. Ashe frowned, crossing her arms and avoiding J'wyn's question at all costs. “What? Are you a princess or somethin’?”
Ashe's head whipped toward her. Her gaze held steady over J'wyn's, so hard it'd kill. In truth, the redhead was determined to pretend she couldn't feel it or notice how opulent the reaction she roused was. When her gaze fled, a smirk drew across her face. Weak poker face. It's not like she was entirely ignorant of important people; especially that of Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca. She didn't catch it right away, only mildly suspicious for a while, but now? And with that reaction? Now it's all J’wyn could think about. If Basch was capable of prevailing despite being convicted of high treason, who's to say that the princess of Dalmasca truly took her life?
⠀⠀⠀── ೄྀ ࿐
Through thick walls, a tremble and groan echoed in protest to the resistance of the heavy wind against the hull. It's an illusion that fuzzies the vision, like anxiety when turbulence sets in and makes one's teeth chatter. It causes unease, no doubt, shutting down concurrent conversations and giving pause to the work and maintenance being performed until the noise either abates or they plummet to the floor below. Fortune shone upon them that day, and they were on their merry way, ambling down the steel-gilded path with only their boots and collectively shuffling to fill the void.
Bergan found it within himself to tame his head, and Vayne hadn't much to contribute. A mindless dawdle to the next location, and they were within the humid chambers of the Pisces hangar as planned – as promised. Yet, Cid was nowhere to be found. They were close, just not that close. Fair enough, Vayne's able to reason it out, chalk it up to nerves. The ‘kweh’s from nearby chocobo pique a tenderness in his chest, and the corners of his mouth twitched ever so subtly to expose that fact. He's intent on being stubborn, upholding an image, so his arms crossed once he was stationary, and he waited.
Liraz’s warning is what inspired Bergan to speak again, looking Vayne up and down indiscreetly. “You should─”
“I haven't need.” His attempt to even his tone failed, but it's effective in warding off the Judge. Regardless, the prince was more than content in his insulated wool coat and layers of metal. If it came to desperate measures, he possessed his own little arsenal and, if rumors were to be believed, he was quite the natural blast furnace and, if nothing else, Bergan was there. This part of the ship would warm them before the treacherous journey ahead; he just hoped it wouldn't take long.
"Are you certain?" Bergan waited so long between, Vayne was caught off guard and clueless. A moment recollection and he's left with nothing more than a damning side-eye. At times, he sounded like his father.
"Five minutes 'til landing." Some miscellaneous ship-keep hollered down the hall. Good, Cid should be on his way then. They would hate to leave without him. And how horrible would it be for the host to be the one late to the party? That just wouldn't do. Not for Cidolfus.