Fantasy The Shadow of The Seal

[Wyll]

The Fire

Navon
Hara

Navon had only been out on the library floor for mere moments and, already, Guille seemed upset, Scarlett and Aricia were up to the usual mischief, Kygo had gone off to who knows where for Navon being too harsh yet again, and the lingering smell of tea and its particles in the air tempted a sneeze.

Absolutely not. A mental decree. To stay here for even a second longer would be to voluntarily offer his brain cells to be sacrificed to the madness that seems to have possessed the library in the short while he was in the lower levels. Kygo, who - by factors that thoroughly puzzled Navon - had somehow become his student, had taken his leave. However, Navon was certain he had seen Saphielle in the training room just moments earlier. Perhaps she was still there?

He suspected that in a spar between the two of them, she just might earnestly attempt to take his life, as some form of justice for their shared history. However, in the even that she didn't, it couldn't be denied that she was an Agent of impressive skill. One whom might humor him long enough to allow him practice something he had been working on in secret.

He spun on his heel, desperate to escape the anarchy of the library and return to the safety, the sanctity of the lower levels. He could, perhaps, see how some may call him unsociable due to such behaviours, however he took no offense to it. He was sociable enough during missions and he didn't much see the need to be socially pleasant outside of that.

He returned to the training room in the middle of Saphielle's practice. It would seen she was so rapt in her movements, that she didn't even notice him. Although, that seved him purposes quite well. He had seen her fight before; had fought by her side before, but these moments were an improvement on the last time he had seen her in a fight, and so he began his study.

His eyes captured every motion, picking up on the ripples in her musculature as she transitioned from one move to the next. With each attack, his eyes found the start and traced her weight as it moved from one side of her body to the other, tattooing the image in his mind. His hands moved to the hilts of his daggers, wrapping around them with practiced ease. However, his fingers were strangers to the daggers, for his grip was not his own, but Saphielle's. He mimicked how she held her blades, moving his hands along the hilts of his own as she did, transcribing mental memory to muscle memory.

If Saphielle's motions were a piece of music, then Navon held on to every note, disected every chord, studied every measure, until the entire piece played on repeat in his mind. He was entirely uncaring that he was staring unapologetically. After all, understanding the fighting style and pattern of one's teammates makes for more seamless work in the field, as he is better able to predict their moves. It was one of the unique things about working with Navon: he moved in tandem with you, as though he knew exactly what you were going to do before you even did it. Before you started the motion.

As she brings her practice to a close, her motions now grafted into Navon's memory, and Navon finally blinks, like the shutter of a video camera after a long take.

"You have improved." Curt and without introduction, as none would have done him any benefit. "Good." He knew no appraisal had been asked of him, but it was offered anyway. An Agent's efforts to improve should not go unrecognized, regardless of the feelings that particular Agent might have toward him. At least, that was his belief. "Your movements have been polished, and so you last longer. You are still impatient. It keeps you alert, but it narrows your vision."

Mentions: Saphielle ( Talathel ).

 

[WillOWispJJ]

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  How He's Feeling:

  
  
  
  

  Worried and guilty
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  What He's Wearing:

  
  
  
  

  Casual black robes with silver cuffs

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  Where He's At:

  
  
  
  

  Kidem- Head Library
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  Interact/Mention:

  
  
  
  

  Interact: Fennec ( roxybirdie ), Keep (NPC), Eltan (NPC)
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Kalin

The Refugee

Chapter 1:

“Kalin Rochet, are you calling me fat?”

Kalin’s eyes widened a bit as he cleared his throat. His tail curled into itself defensively. Watching closely as Fennec pouted and crossed his arms. “I apologize,” Kalin slowly, almost cautiously, murmured out. “I didn't mean to infer that at all. I, by no means, was not trying to ‘body shame’ you for liking my baking. I simply was trying to…tease you back in a similar manner to how you tease me.”

Kalin glanced at the direwolf next to them. Seeing the wolf’s huff, worried Kalin even more.

“If you’re going to be rude, I want them before we start.”

Kalin locked eyes with Fennec. The pool of dark chocolate brown staring back. Kalin’s eyes softened slightly as the other kept pouting, noticing no actual hurt in his eyes. “Very well. I assure you that the payment will be quick. So you better have your runic lessons prepared.”

Kalin noticed the flinch from Fennec’s form. Had he said something wrong?

“Of course. Your honesty is how we became friends in the first place. If I recall, I called it a breath of fresh air, right?”

Kalin smiled softly and looked up at the lights of the library, reminiscing on his first meeting with Fennec. “Well, yes. You did. Although, I remember that Roan was not too excited with how honest I was. In his defense, however, I was a bit harsh with my honesty. Then again, I was rather new to all this and hadn’t made any friends at the time.”

As he turned back to face Fennec, he noticed the other gripping his temple. Kalin saw the slightly trembling hands and went to lay a hand on Fennec’s arm but decided not to at the last moment. Instead, he suggested that the two go on a little walk together.

“Fresh air sounds promising. Where to?”

Kalin gave a sad smile as he also started to pack up his things. “How about we go into the town? Just walk around the plaza or market for a bit?” Kalin looked down and noticed the, still, trembling hands of his friend. Yes, friend. With a soft look, Kalin gently moved his tail to rub Fennec’s back.

Kalin stood and offered a hand to Fennec to help him up. As they walked down the stairs, Kalin conversed jokingly and calmly with Fennec. He noticed the tense state and tried his hardest to help calm him.

As they descended to the first floor, Kalin noticed Keep and Eltan entering the Library. “Wonderful, Keep and Eltan are here. Perhaps we should go say hello to them.” Kalin smiled and led Fennec over to the two.

“Greetings, Keep. Greetings, Eltan. How are you two doing today?” Kalin gave a small smile. His tail is still gently rubbing Fennec’s back to sooth his friend. “Oh, Keep. I noticed that none of my recommended books were available today. Is that something I can expect to see tomorrow or the next? Or is that something I should inquire about with Bookie?”

Keep gave Kalin a slight nod as he greeted him back, "Greetings, Kalin."

Eltan smiled brightly and waved excitedly as he, practically, bounced up and down on his heels. "Hi, Kalin! Oh! I'm doing great! I've just been reading this new book. It's called The Lion's Scar! And I've been exploring around Kidem! Did you know-"

"I believe that is enough for now, Eltan. We have more important matters to discuss anyways. Kalin, if you are wondering about your recommendations, I would recommend talking to Bookie. Come along now, Eltan." Keep motioned for Eltan to continue following him.

With one last wave, Eltan followed behind Keep as Kalin continued his walk with Fennec.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Talathel]

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  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  Alarmed, Startled, and Annoyed
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  Must you ask?

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  Training Room
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Navon ( Wyll )
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Saphielle

The Insider

So focused on her work, Saphielle barely could feel the eyes on her figure as she moved like water, flowing from one form to the next almost seamlessly. The form-fitting top she wore moved alongside her hips as she carefully drew back, her eyes opening to meet Navon's as he watched her practice. The sound of his voice reaching her pointed ears sent Saphielle on alert, a flash of silver whipping through the air as her short sword flashed to point directly at Navon, tri-colored orbs narrowing and darkening in annoyance.

"Navon. What are you doing here?"

Her voice could literally freeze the very air - sounding like icicles were forming straight off her words as she kept her balance and posture wary. Her eyes studied the other assassin and the way he was watching her. Her skirt swirled lightly before slowly settling down, muscles ready to attack should Navon even try to approach her at that time.

Copper and auburn air fell across her face, strands gently brushing high cheekbones as she raised an eyebrow at the one other agent who had shared some of her history. As he complimented her, she could feel a bit of heat in her cheeks, a blush forming gently as she snorted delicately. Getting a compliment from Navon was rare, especially given the duo often didn't interact unless on missions, which she would prefer. She carefully relaxed her stance just barely, getting ready to put her swords back into their respective sheaths that settled on each hip. Of course, though, Navon couldn't just leave the compliment and instead had to answer with some type of negative feedback as well. Almost as soon as his mouth opened, Saph was narrowing her eyes and her magic flared dangerously, hair floating a bit as she glared at Navon.

"Well, excuuuse me for not being perfect!"

Her tone oozed with sass and exasperation as she glared at Navon, her grip on her swords tightening as she shifted her weight. Her muscles ached, legs shaking just enough but the ex-princess tried to hide the weakness, knowing Navon would gladly take advantage of it while in the training room. Why was it that everyone expected perfection?! She wasn't the heir anymore - she refused to be queen, she didn't want it - she had never wanted it. A small pout crawled over her lips as she lowered her dangerous weapons, allowing her magic to continue to fluctuate

"I'm nowhere as impatient as you are Navon!"

She couldn't resist giving in to the temptation of teasing and giving Navon a hard time - because why not?! The elven princess was slightly amused and gently sheathed her long sword, keeping her short one out just to be safe. She definitely was having just a smidge of fun - though she had a feeling she may be poking the proverbial bear in this case... oh well.

Eona left Mumbasa after playing in the fountain, raising her large head to sniff the air before trotting towards the training room, claws clicking across the floor before the wolf paused as she noted Navon bugging her mistress. Now, Eona was usually calm around other agents - but there was one agent she would forever be wary of, and that...was the one annoying her mistress. The arctic wolf slowly crept to her mistress's side, ivory canines glinting as a low growl rumbled in her chest, fur rising to make the canine look larger than she usually was. Her eyes glinted dangerously as she gave a cold snarl.

♡coded by uxie

 

[lyn.]

”W

hat about the floor being made of a thick glass or glass like material with water underneath? You could easily slide the floor sheet with a handle to open it for you to come in and out? Or would that be too complicated…?”

Aricia tilted her head as she considered the idea. It wasn’t bad, per se, and there’s nothing wrong with a bit of accessibility. There was a time where she’d voiced her own ideas at the dinner table. The Western Institute was large, but old and lacking in its own convenience. It seemed they expected you to use your own magic to account for the buildings' faults. A ridiculous notion that Aricia made known. Of course, her mother had only smiled and changed the subject, ignoring everything her daughter had to say at every turn. No doubt her only acknowledgment of Aricia’s complaints were when she told them to her father.

Still, was putting water in a library such a good idea? Anything could happen. A simple crack of the glass and most of the books in here would be ruined. It was impractical in many ways, and suggesting the idea would probably only end in a few upset pillars, more specifically Bookie.

Aricia bit her tongue as she took the broom from Scarlett’s hands, following the girl's instructions and ignoring the blow to her own ego at how stupid she felt. Not only did she not know how to use a broom, she likely looked ridiculous at attempting it. Only Scarlett could make her do such ridiculous things for all the agents to see.

Of course, she made her frustrations known. A huff and a puff there as dust repeatedly got stuck on her skirts. She could picture the confusion on her maid's face from the mess left on her clothes. If questions were to arise, she would need a decent excuse. Or she could clean it up herself, nahh.

Oh lord, she was bored again. Why was Guille scary again? Maybe leaving for food is worth the risk.

”That dress only brings you closer to perfect swimming form! I can teach you. A bit of guidance and you’ll be swimming in no time.”

Aricia stopped sweeping to lean on the broom, accepting the distraction with ease. She bit back a laugh and she thought up a response. Îstoire seemed very passionate, indeed, about getting Aricia in the water. She’d be caught dead doing that, of course, but she wouldn’t hesitate to entertain a friend.

“Not my corsets, friend. This fabric would do nothing but weigh me down.” A pause- “Tell you what, you find me a corset suitable for water, and I’ll gladly take your swimming lessons.” She lied. “And of course I’d sign your petition. Convincing Bookie, however… might be a mission not even I could manage.”

She twirled the broom's end in her fingers, mind lost from the task at hand. Or perhaps she was just avoiding it entirely.

“You would have to hide the idea from Navon, he’d be the first to point out all the faults. I can promise you that. And while we’re on the topic of reconstruction, this place could use a lot more lights. The hallways are almost as miserable as the ones at the manor.”

"A bird flew by, saw what I'd done..."

Aricia Belwick

location:

Kidem, Head Library

outfit:

interactions:

CrimsonInk CloudySkyLoftyMoon mentioned:Navon, Bookie

 

[hery]

The Sun

Cresley Hogsweed

̳C̳̳h̳̳a̳̳p̳̳t̳̳e̳̳r̳ ̳1̳: ̳K̳̳i̳̳d̳̳e̳̳m̳


INTERACTION: Else
LOCATION: Kidem Alley
OUTFIT: Everyday
MENTIONS: Mypilot

Cresley's pace slowed ever so slightly, his attention darting between the puddles beneath their feet and the alley stretching ahead. The walls glistened with a damp sheen, a grimy mix of rainwater and years of neglect. The air hung thick, a musty blend of mildew and the subtle tang of rust.

At Else's pointed question, the hobbit's expression shifted. "Not worried, no," he answered, the rough edge of his Abasi dialect merging with the smooth cadence of a hobbit's accent.

Cress' eyes flicked toward the source of the muffled voices, lingering for a moment on the shadow of a slammed door before returning to Else. "Not everyone who's careless is the antagonist, and not everyone who gives away the story's ending means to cause harm." His words were measured, the practiced tone of someone trained in offhand metaphors.

Cress had tangled with traitors before, his hands bound and calloused by the work of hauling rogue Seal agents to justice. Each betrayal carried its own lesson—chief among them, that loyalty, like bone, tends to snap under the right amount of pressure. And more than once, Cress had been the one to apply it.

He exhaled through his nose, a grin curling at the corner of his mouth. "Whatever the case, Chapter 2 was abysmal, wasn't it?" There was a warmth in his eyes meant for Else—Cress really did think highly of the Lorekeep. They were someone who would never compromise the integrity of the mission, no matter the cost.

Surrounded by deadly people—changeling spies, master assassins, and spellcasters with tempers hotter than a forge—Cress felt oddly at ease. It was like sitting in a room full of venomous snakes: unnerving to some, but to him, just another day at the Seal.

As they approached the far end of the alley, where the light broke through and spilled across the uneven ground, he cast a sidelong glance at Else. He paused in thought, mulling over his words. "You know, you're a rare one, elf," Cress whispered low, "You could be anything—a duke, a dragon, a hobbit. And yet, you choose... this?" He waved a hand over Else’s more mundane form. "The most beige, pedestrian guise possible."

His laughter rang out, bouncing off the narrow walls and startling a rat mid-scurry, the sound too lively for the alley's gloom. The volume of his voice dropped again. "Don’t you suppose trying to blend in makes you look like there's something to hide?"

coded by reveriee.

 

[Wyll]

The Fire

Navon
Hara

Navon raised a brow at the blade that was pointed towards him, wondering what purpose it served. A threat? A warning? For what? He was certain he hadn't don't anything more than exist.

A sigh escaped his lips as she bit back. Why did it always end this way? Why did they always get defensive? Why couldn't it ever be "Okay, Navon, I'll keep that in mind." He had made his peace with the fact that he would likely never get such an understanding response. However, always being made to seem like the antagonist when you were simply trying to help got old.

It was a cross he would willingly bear, though. If it made his fellow Agents even a little better, if he pulled them even a hair away from death's grasp on a mission, then whatever they thought of him in the moment didn't matter.

However, more than her response to his words, Navon couldn't help but notice a weakness in her stance. His gaze washed over her, noting the mild shaking and a frown etched itself unto his features. Had she been pushing herself too hard? In honesty, he admired her drive and determination to improve, but it was difficult to focus on that when she is currently struggling to even stand.

At being called impatient, he looked around to see if, perhaps, there was another Agent named Navon that she was refering to, because surely it couldn't be him. Seeing nobody, however - in fact, it appeared as though they were the only two in the room - it would seem as though she was indeed talking to and about him.

"I have been called a great many things in my time. Impatient is not one of them. I am unsure what makes you say that." His tone was flat as he spoke. He hadn't taken offense to the claim, he had just been confused by it and a small part of him was curious as to whether there was any truth to it. Was he, indeed, impatient? Was that why many Agents were not fond of him?

"Moreover, you have pushed yourself to hard."

Your dedication to your training is admirable. However, your body needs rest as much as it needs the training. I would hate to see your body give in on a mission because you had not rested it well.

That was his thought process, at least. However, it would seem there was a challenge transcribing thought to speech.

"Continue like this and your body will be useless on the next mission. Come, you must rest."

He turned, as though preparing to lead her to a place she could rest, likely the upper floors of the library, where it was quieter and cooler. It was at that moment that Eona walked in, holding more contempt for him in her eyes than he had ever seen in Saphielle's. In honesty, he could not blame the wolf. However, wished both Saphielle and Eona could move past his attempt on Saphielle's life. They both lived different lives at that time. Now, they were fellow Agents and it was their duty to look after each other. At least, that was the way Navon saw it. It seemed, though, Saphielle was not quite so keen on sharing the same views.

Mentions: Saphielle ( Talathel ).

 

[Talathel]

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  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  Touched (not that she will admit it), Curious, and Thoughtful
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  Must you ask?

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  Training Room ---> Library, 3rd floor
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Navon ( Wyll ), Keep (NPC), Eltan (NPC)
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Saphielle

The Insider

A delicate hand landed on Eona's head as Saphielle carefully sheathed her other sword. Her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Navon, the dark orbs reminding some (should they look) of a forest at night - the three-toned orbs seeming to shift as her thoughts whirled through her head. Pine green shifted to a deep emerald, while the usually light ice blue shifted to a deep navy and the violet appeared almost black. It wasn't uncommon for the tri-colored orbs to shift while deep in thought, actually it often seemed they would darken or lighten depending on who she was with honestly. The dark orbs often were lighter around Quill and Jason.

"Eona. Enough ."

Saph's soft words seemed to echo through the room as she leaned slightly against her bonded companion.

A delicate eyebrow raised in surprise, though it was hidden well as Saphielle hummed thoughtfully.

Why do you care? While we may work together on missions doesn't mean I have forgotten our past...You tried to kill me!

Her thoughts were racing through her head as she warily eyed Navon, fingers entwining into the coarse fur of Eona as she shifted her weight slightly.

"What's in it for you?"

Her words were wary and a hint of caution wove through her tone as she slowly began to follow her fellow assassin out of the training room. She could not deny that her body ached and her muscles spasmed slightly with the exhaustion weighing deep in her bones.

The two and their history is what made Saphielle so cautious. While the duo worked decently well when they were on missions together, she was not one to forgive (nor forget) especially considering Navon had tried to take her life. She bore those scars and that night quietly. It wasn't like her mother cared enough to actually make sure she had survived the assassination attempt. Saphielle sighed as she followed Navon, covering her yawn with a hand as she tried to keep herself somewhat organized. She also had a horrible sleep schedule if you were to ask her. She almost never slept - and when she did it was often riddled with nightmares, cruelty, and never restful.

Eona turned to gaze at her mistress, giving a small whine (that if you were to ask Saph it sounded like a dog got their favorite toy taken away). A huff escaped the canine as she felt her mistress lean into her body slowly, allowing it as she slowly began to follow Navon. It seemed that the male had noticed what she had also noticed - that her mistress was pushing herself too hard. Eona knew Saphielle was determined and stubborn... but at least she also knew better than to argue this one on this day.

A soft smile twitched at the lips of Saphielle as she felt her cheeks warm as Navon led her back towards the library.

"No Eona, you can't attack him - he is a fellow agent after all."

Her soft accented voice was tinted with amusement and fondness as she scolded her best friend and partner. Stretching slightly, the elf winced as her shoulders popped audibly, feeling the pain of her constant training echo through her body as tension lined her figure.

"Where are we going?"

She asked quietly, ignoring the many stares following the unusual pair - considering she was often only seen with Jason or Quill. The duo portrayed a stark contrast with one another - Saphielle with her cold, elegant demeanor with her navy blue outfit, auburn and copper hair, pointed ears, tanned skin, and tri-colored gaze with Eona next to her and Navon...his dark brown hair, golden gaze, and tall figure.

Saphielle was more quiet than usual as the duo made their way toward the third floor of the library, away from the little one known as Eltan. As far as Saphielle knew, he didn't know about The Seal and Keep plus the other pillars were usually making sure all agents (minus a few lorekeepers of course) were out of sight and out of mind. As Saphielle passed the door where Keep and Eltan once stood, her nose picked up the faint whiff of saltwater and her eyebrow rose curiously.

"Navon..."

Saphielle started softly, her voice barely audible as she stuck to the shadows as they made their way up to the quiet of the uppermost floor of the room filled with books and literature

"Do you know of any Books that may involve the ocean by any chance? "

Her wording was precise and coded as many agents knew to use the code phrases around Eltan and she wouldn't risk the fact they could easily be overheard by someone. But she was curious and somehow she had a feeling that Keep had been around saltwater recently...well she just couldn't shake that the pillars were setting up something and Navon tended to be smart. So why not ask even if she was a bt snippy with him time to time.

♡coded by uxie

 

[Klown]

Location: Garden outside the Library
Interactions: Kygo Shadow
Mentions: Navon

Her tail struck at the air like a provoked viper at Navon’s mention, though her features maintained their frigid doll-like placidity. His memory seemed keen on following her regardless of his presence. She wondered if Navon’s uncanny talent of unearthing her temper was one that’d slipped her mind but not her body. It was the first she’d seen him since before the accident, yet it was the heavy bass of his voice alone that shook her foundations, the kind of forceful tremor that tore through concrete like paper.

Quill’s head tilted with the other’s, mirroring the motion as if it might help her understand him further. At the least it emptied her ears of some residual water in time to twitch at the code.

“I haven’t recommended a book to him in over a year…” There’s a slight wrinkle in her brow, the beginnings of a frown. “…From what I can remember.” Quill reached for the Echobinder’s case and looped the belt around her hip, dismissing her uncertainty with the distraction.

“He ought to withhold his opinions until the third chapter.” She picked up her cloak, thumb tracing the holes left by piercing thorns. How long has it been since someone had urged that explosive rage out of her? She couldn’t shake the feeling of having been possessed by some foreign entity, a devil’s fire. “I rather not recommend any books to him right now. He’s too bull-headed and leaves the cords frayed.” Neither her tone nor expression wore a hint of malice, for that was not what she felt towards Navon. Her disdain for him ran as deep as her disdain for herself. But those were revelations had apart from strangers.

Quill looked at the agent—the assassin. She tried to remember him, but his image didn’t weave through her thoughts like others she forgot. There was always a trace of them. A wisp of smoke, a crumb of food, a faded stain. A fragment just shy of identifiable, but not quite. He was an enigma past the scant glimpses she’d caught by happenstance.

“Who are you?” she asked. Then, as if taking a pen to cross out the words and write them anew, she revised, “What is your name, I meant. If you are willing to share it, or whatever else.”​

 

[Wyll]

The Fire

Navon
Hara

"In it for me?" A notion so foolish to him, so far from his character, that he couldn't help but scoff at it. "Do I truly strike you, Saphielle, as one who cares much for their own personal benefit?" Navon couldn't remember a time in recent history, or any history for that matter, where he acted based on self interest. There was always some cause higher than himself. At least, that was how he chose to see the world. How his parents - his tribe - had taught him to see the world. Even in his attempt on her life, he had thought he was doing it for the freedom of his people. The fact that he was wrong - and the price paid for his foolishness - is a lesson he was cursed to never forget.

Regarding why he helped her specifically, the simple answer was that a tired Agent was an ineffective Agent. And an ineffective Agent couldn't be trusted to look after themselves or others. It was true for every Agent, but doubly true for Saphielle. Even if he'd never admit it, she was strong and he knew many of the newer, younger, or less-experienced Agents would be looking up to her, depending on her. It would be a terrible blow to her and to them to see someone so strong stumble, especially on a mission. He, Saphielle, the others of their caliber, even if none said it, they held the flag. They had an image they had to uphold. Saphielle knows it too, it's likely why she pushes herself as hard as she does, so that those behind her will always have her to look up to. But for both her sake and those behind them, he couldn't let her tire herself out like she was doing.

As they walked, he prepared himself for the strangely tea-scented library this time, not as spun-around as the first time he had left the training room. As they began to ascend the stairs, he overheard Saphielle's words to Eona and raised a brow as he looked back at them. He didn't believe that Saphielle would let Eona attack him - not that he could blame her if she did - but it still was an unnerving thought that it was apparently something Eona had wanted in the first place. And he wasn't sure whether to be comforted or threatened by Saphielle's light-hearted, even amused, response. Was this a conversation the two had often enough for her to joke about it?

Navon shook his head, ignoring the wolf that he could have sworn was smirking at him, choosing instead to answer the question of where he was taking Saphielle. "We will go to the top floor. It is dark and quiet there; isolated. A good place to rest yourself." It was a spot he had used for himself several times. Whether it was after a long mission where he got back late, or the numerous times his house was being staked out and it wasn't safe to return there. This corner of the library had been his refuge.

He saved his answer about missions on the ocean until they got to the top floor, taking his time to mentally dig through the missions he was aware of. "None recently," he finally responded. "And certainly none today. No regulars were on the recommendations. Rare." He could make a comment as certain as that because Navon had made it a point to memorize the books used to refer to all agents, and he was sure that none had come up today. "I was privy to a conversation between Guille and Seer about a potential new Cord from the Errant Fleet, though nothing that should concern either Eltan or Keep."

He turned a few corners and brought her to a reading book with a window view that over looked the city. The seat was sun-warmed and it glowed with welcoming warmth. Despite being in such an easily-forgotten area of the library, there wasn't a single speck of dust to be seen. The further they went into the corner, the more it seemed like the shelves shielded them against the remaining sounds of the library. The shelves also created a small wind tunnel that circled cool air through the entire space. However, the breeze was not too chilly or uncomfortable - tempered by the warmth of the sun coming from the window. In fact, if not for it lightly blowing one's clothes clothes and the peaceful lull it pulled you into, the breeze would be entirely easy to ignore.

Navon walked halfway in and then nodded his head toward the seat that practically begged to be used. It was sized well too. It was big and comfortable enough for Navon, so he was confident it would be fine for Saphielle as well. "Now, away with thoughts of missions. Rest here." Despite the tender nature of his actions, his tone was as strict as ever and allowed no room or space for rebuttal or questioning. "I shall see that see that you are not disturbed." And with that, he walked out of the nook, not allowing for much else to be said. He walked a few steps from the entrance of the nook, leaning against a nearby shelf and standing guard.

Mentions: Saphielle ( Talathel ).

 

[Shadow]

"I have failed you in this labyrinth of my mind..."

Kygo

The Shadow

• .
• .

• .
• .

location

Gardens Outside Lasalle Library

mentions

Navon

interactions

Quill
( Klown )

Kygo spared a single nod as the pieces of the code fell into place within her response, confirming his assumption about her identity: the absent lorekeeper, who few had been willing to speak to him about directly, aside from reluctant allusions to an injury and the mission that had gone awry.

Kygo had overheard hushed conversations and passing references to the returning agent with more frequency in recent weeks, and now they crystalized before him in the figure of the pale, light-footed fae, who wore an expression he couldn't read.
That wasn't unusual, at least; he tended to fare better with auditory cues of a person's mood ...but still, he stubbornly tried to interpret whether she was offended or intrigued by his presence. Though neither sensation of scrutiny would be particularly welcome, he preferred to know what he was dealing with.

Then her response to hearing Navon's name, controlled as it was, shaded his features with a soft frown.

He leaves the cords frayed?

Kygo was forced to question himself, for a moment, when his memory produced a translation that seemed to be mistaken. Yet his lesson on the Seal's code words came readily to mind in the afterthought, clarifying that he had it right.
He just didn't understand how other agents' nerves were frayed by Navon. In spite of the connection that sentiment had to other whispers he'd overheard in the Library, and his own occasional frustrations, Kygo couldn't help but feel that the agents must be referring to some other "Navon" when they spoke about him that way.

At the very least, it helped to explain her desire to try meditating, at the cost of vigilance.
Part of him was able to recognize the irony of listening to advice from Navon and then needing to tune out the world for a while to ponder over it: an experience he had already approximated a number of times.

For now, he was willing to set the matter aside without offering a comment in Navon's defense, thanks to the slightly petulant annoyance still lingering from Navon's parting words in the training room.

Instead, the script of casual conversation took over as his attention fluttered briefly to a shaded bush nearby, where two lizards were play-fighting between the low lying branches. They provided a welcome distraction from the sound of his own voice as he spoke, but his eyes didn't waver from his conversation partner.

"I'm Kygo."

Then, the name he'd heard from other agents came to his lips before he could help it.

"You're Quill?"

Kygo's gaze broke away then, and he was hit with regret over how much simpler it could have been to ask her name, rather than revealing that he knew of her before they even met.

"Several cords have felt your absence,"

he whispered uneasily, attempting some explanation that didn't openly admit to eavesdropping.
While he had often tried to explain that he (usually) overheard things unintentionally, an overwhelming majority of instances had convinced him that argument didn't really go over well.

Although Kygo was still wary of the secretive way information could travel between Seal members, the fact that she claimed not to know his name gave him enough incentive to try amending his first impression for the better.

"I look forward to your book recommendations,"

he said with a slight bow of his head, squeezing his grip around the soft fabric of the gloves inside his pockets to refocus from his faux pas.

For once, the politeness of the script wasn't difficult to say, though.
She was easily one of the quietest agents he had met so far, and the idea that she would give him a hard time on a mission seemed farfetched. Of course, that only increased the risk for an unpleasant surprise, but he was willing to indulge the optimism, for now.

Maybe it was the gentle murmur of the creek that had calmed him, made him a bit more agreeable already, but he was still careful to remain attentive.
A preoccupied edge slipped into his posture as he processed the path of the lizards scurrying across the garden, the more distant sounds of the crowded town square, and then, the distinctive trail of a small snake; slipping through the grass at the other end of the garden and bringing another question to mind that he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to ask yet.

His stubbornness rose up and bit his tongue, but the desire to overcome it lingered beneath. Perhaps the lorekeeper's tension would ease, now that the subject of Navon had been set aside, enough to warrant making his query.
The weeks of searching the Library on his own were becoming tedious, after all.
It was just a book.
Surely asking about it wouldn't spark too much of a debt...

coded by reveriee.

 

[CrimsonInk]

THE JOKER.

scroll

SCARLETT

LEONHARDT

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

HUNGRY, NOM!

OUTFIT

SOFT VIBES

LOCATION

KIDEM, HEAD LIBRARY

MENTIONS

NAVON Wyll

INTERACTS

lyn. ARICIA
CloudySkyLoftyMoon ÎSTOIRE

SPARKING — NAMCO SOUNDS.

scroll

Wind and Words.

We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

CHAPTER ONE.

Scarlett listened happily in the conversation between Îstoire and Aricia focusing on cleaning the rest of the space. It seemed that Aricia had found a way to idle, but she wasn’t entirely upset about it. She may have given the bare minimum, but she was being pleasant with Îstoire, which was a way to help their relationship to grow. It was one less agent to worry about wanting to beef with her at least.

This gave her the time to finish the cleaning, since the rest of it was minimal and thanks to Îstoire’s charm most of it was already done. Just finishing it up she went ahead to clear the rest of the supplies, moving Aricia off the broom gently, and began making her way to place them back properly. The woman moved swiftly with diligence, the notice of hunger in her stomach begging for food was a good reminder to get it done. Coming back, she smiled finally hearing the final parts of their conversation.

“You two would sign, right?”

“I would!” she exclaimed, “everyone should have access comfortable in their own skin here!”

“You would have to hide the idea from Navon, he’d be the first to point out all the faults. I can promise you that. And while we’re on the topic of reconstruction, this place could use a lot more lights. The hallways are almost as miserable as the ones at the manor.”

That was true on Aricia’s part. Navon was one of the stricter agents here she had disagreements with. He constantly picked apart the smallest things to an idea, and it was most annoying when they seemed beneficial. While she does trust his judgement when it came to stuff with the Seal, everything else seemed so….so….just ugh! She was done hearing about stupid Navon and wanted to eat something. Honestly, she was about ready to eat at Aricia’s arm if she could. No, no she shouldn't think on things like that. She was just a little grumpy, being hungry can do that to you. With a practiced smile she looked at them with puppy-like eyes, her lip curving into a small pout.

“Who’s hungry? I want to try that new yummy stand next to the docks! And maybe after, Îstoire can give Aricia a quick swimming lesson.”

She winked towards Aricia in jest, knowing well her friend wouldn’t abide by something so quick. It was a fun thought though, to go swimming on a day like this. Scarlett laid her eyes back on the two agents, patting her cute blue purse under her.

“I’ll even treat us~,” she continued to suggest.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Mypilot]

i am bound by the seal

Else kept careful pace with Cresley, the practiced ease of someone who spent a great deal of time mirroring another keeping them at his side. Every form they took was a different one, strides longer or shorter depending, and it was simply easiest to step in line with those around oneself rather than to pick a pace that was likely going to be off putting anyway.

At Cresley’s carefully chosen words, Else flickered their gaze over him and studied him for only a moment, a glimmer of curiosity over their chosen diplomatic answer. Yes, what he said was true, but in that same vein it was also not true. ‘Could’ and ‘could not’ in many ways existed on the same level, a flipped coin or an unturned card. In speculation, both were true and false simultaneously.

Loosing a sigh, Else rocked their head back and forth. “It certainly could have been written a little better,” they acknowledged, thumbing the edge of their cuffs. There was a button there they liked to play with, coming slightly undone with every brush of their fingers. It was not often Else fidgeted, like some inattentive child, but when in genuine contemplation their hands had a habit of doing their own thing. ”Although, I am grateful at least in knowing that fault did not lie in us currently present.” It was a compliment, albeit a very subtly handed one. Forwardness did not sit comfortably on Else’s shoulders.

The walk continued to be enjoyable, left alone as they were from the rowdy crowds in the market. The alleyways of the city had a habit of swallowing sound, leaving them in a muffled avenue marked only by the clip of their boots and the occasional splash of a puddle.

Else was thinking of that wayward mission once again, lines dragging across each other to make connections here and there. At Cresley’s words, however, they looked down sharply, a feint frown on their face. ”This form, like all the ones I choose, suit me.” They tugged at the leather vest they wore with a huff. ”There is little value in being some grand, imposing thing. I am just another citizen. And, as I am sure you can recall, I do have something to hide.” There was a sly look on their face, something close to good humor. Else had a great deal to hide, but so did every other agent. The entire operation was their greatest secret, something so cherished and important that Else would never give it up.

”Besides, unless someone sees me shift, there is no way to distinguish that I am a shifter. I am simply another wood elf in the streets accompanying a hobbit friend.” Else stepped out of the alley into the full light of the sun, bowing slightly and waving Cresley forward with a familiarity that might have belonged to genuine friends. ”Frankly, I find it impressive you are all able to maintain the jobe without changing your faces.”

else

LOCATION: Outside the Library

INTERACTIONS: Cresley

MENTIONS: -

TAGS: hery

code by valen t.

 

[Klown]

Location: Garden outside the Library
Interactions: Kygo Shadow
Mentions:

Kygo. Kygo. The name crept in the recesses of her recent memories. A whisper overheard; a mote of information dropped in passing by an agent updating her of recent events. One of the newer recruits who had stirred interest while she was away. Her name wasn’t a novelty to him either, spoken as an afterthought. Unintentional. That much Quill was privy to if only by the nervous snap of his gaze as it flinched elsewhere.

It didn’t throw her off kilter. The Seal’s bounty of rumors could fill Tainam’s oceans and still have excess. Quill herself was only aware of the events as storied through those whispers. There was scant she knew with certainty: Cresley and Aricia were players on the board. Quill had been apart from them when it happened. Navon returned her broken and bloodied.

Tales spoke of a beast that thrashed her between its maw like a mangled plaything, of a guard who caught her red-handed and delivered brutal justice, that Quill, inept, had been her own unmaking. Perhaps all were true, perhaps none were. There’d been no witnesses.

The pinching cold of the metal buckles shutting the Echobinder’s protective case traced along her fingertips. Her lips press into a straight line, unsure what to make of Kygo’s comment. The Seal advanced just as well without her presence, but she’d expected that. For now, she returned the bow.

“I hope I recommend something to your tastes.” Quill draped her folded cloak over her arm. The formality of the interaction was starting to lose her interest, her ear twitched at rustling nearby. She turned around, tail flicking curiously as her attention is entirely consumed by a faint hiss. As if Kygo’s presence completely faded out of existence, Quill wandered towards the sound.

She peeked over a small shrub. On the grass behind it, a snake knotted around a rather large lizard, half of the reptile’s twitching body consumed by the other’s stretched maw. It was quite the jarring sight to behold.

“Hm…greedy,” she commented to herself, noticing a lump slightly further down the length of the snake’s body. “Or pregnant?” From what little she knew of snakes, it seemed unlikely. Her tail was in a full pendulum sway now, observing the reptile slowly gorge itself on the now still lizard. She absently wondered what it tasted like. ​

 

[Sir Mayday]

CODE BY SEROBLISS

Zenith

The Prodigy

Name: Zenith

Gender: Female

Mentions/Interactions: Jason, DeathUnchained

Location: Under a tree. Outside the Library.

It was a strange beast. Zenith wondered what it might taste like. Would its flesh be tough and tedious to chew? Soft and smooth like grilled fish? She hummed to herself deep in thought. She stood before the towering animal that loomed above her. The elephant’s trunk swung downward, curling around a branch of the tree under which she had previously sat before this intrusion. Her body tensed, ready to bolt or attack. She watched it snap the branch effortlessly.

"A great beast." she hummed Her milky eyes scrutinizing the elephant’s every move as it stripped the branch of leaves with its trunk. A loud crack of wood followed by the rustle of leaves being forced into its maw filled the air. Zenith observed it all, unmoving even as fragments of leaves and splinters of wood rained down upon her.

“Clumsy beast.” she muttered. Her eyes narrowed. The elephant remained silent, chewing as its gaze drifted down to meet hers. Zenith tensed, her stare locking with the creature in a silent contest of wills. In her mind, the beast was testing her, challenging her resolve and daring her to yield her spot. Yet that was far from the truth, that it was merely focused on its food.

Eventually, she huffed and looked away. She brushed off leaves from her hair with an air of annoyance. “A pet with no manners” she declared but then softly said “Yet you are tolerable.” Her posture relaxed as the tension dissipated, and she settled back against the tree. Her focus on a book now in her hands. The elephant continued munching, unbothered.

It was peaceful. On Seal grounds, Zenith always felt safer. Not safe enough to shed her disguise, of course. Just comfortable enough to adopt the persona she often used upon returning from missions. A short, pale woman with hair as white as snow and skin to match, with milky eyes. She wore a simple dark tunic and trousers, a leather tasset around her waist adorned with pouches. The beast’s presence was pushed to the background of her senses as her eyes roved over the pages of her book. A manual on culinary arts and favored dishes across various lands. Her latest mission had exposed a glaring weakness: she had failed to exploit a target’s love for a particular fish cuisine due to her lack of culinary skill. This failure was unacceptable. She resolved to learn and not let such happen again!

She was surprised at how much effort cooking demanded. The sheer precision, the delicate balance of flavors. She would need test subjects to perfect her craft. But for now, her book could only take her so far. She closed it with a decisive snap and rose to her feet, her eyes shifting back to the elephant.

It was a distraction, true, but also an opportunity. A good break to practice something practical. She moved quietly to the creature. Her gaze narrowing, not with hostility, but with intense focus. Her pale skin began to shift, wrinkles spreading like oil across water. The smooth white took on a grayish hue until it hardened into a rough texture. From her pouch, she retrieved a small mirror, scrutinizing her reflection. Too light. Not enough wrinkles.

With a huff, she glanced back at the elephant. Her features shifted again. Her eyes shrank, their shape elongating into almonds, and their color darkened from amber to orange. She ran a hand over her face, feeling the developing texture before reaching out to touch the elephant’s leg. Her hand moved gently over its hide, tracing the deep creases and rough surface. She concentrated, letting her skin adapt, the texture becoming more defined with each pass of her hand. To anyone that would see this, they would see a woman repeatedly patting an elephant then patting her own face.

Her mind homed in on the task. She would look like the elephant. She would succeed. Nothing less was acceptable.

 

[hery]

The Sun

Cresley Hogsweed

̳C̳̳h̳̳a̳̳p̳̳t̳̳e̳̳r̳ ̳1̳: ̳K̳̳i̳̳d̳̳e̳̳m̳


INTERACTION: Else
LOCATION: Kidem Square
OUTFIT: Everyday
MENTIONS: Mypilot

Cress gave a nod in solidarity, pleased to find that he and Else were at a consensus in which they'd done their job well enough to shirk the responsibility of a mission gone sideways. Still, shifting the blame was in poor taste for an agent, and would never be tolerated by a Pillar... or Navon. Next time, they had to do better, if only to avoid being relegated to rookie tasks.

The hobbit had no other choice but to suppress the laugh that pushed threateningly against the crease in his grin. "I smile every time you point that out, you know."

Around shifters, it was nearly impossible not to study their appearances—the deliberate details, every fold of fabric or line of muscle seemingly sculpted with purpose. Changelings always carried themselves with a strange confidence, as though each moment they spent in a chosen form was proof of their mastery over it.

But being a hobbit came with its own advantages. His size was as much a disguise as any shifting ability. By default, people underestimated him—or didn’t notice him at all. In many ways, he would have preferred life as a changeling, best suited to be perceived out in the open.

“Then tell me, elf, when do you suppose the time will come that a large, red dragon feels like the form that suits you?”

No matter Else's response, Cress unleashed a booming laugh, one that lasted more than a moment. By the time he was done, he'd clutched a hand onto his stomach to still his breath.

“Our lack of shapeshifting makes us plain folk, not dull folk. Let’s not confuse the two.” As they stepped into the sun, the corners of his Cress' mouth tugged upward again. "But I’d wager you’ve never had the pleasure of being dismissed outright by someone who’s convinced you’re harmless. It’s like a free pass to do whatever you want—so long as you don’t make a spectacle of yourself.” He added a playful wink, reveling in the irony.

He brushed a hand over the hilt of his knife, ensuring it still sat snug against his hip, before glancing at Else again to catch the sly look they wore. The temptation to pry, to peel back the layers they so meticulously kept hidden, was strong. But there was a line between camaraderie and intrusion.

As they stepped further into the open square, the sunlight caught the air just right, scattering faint rainbows through the lingering mist. The square overlooked the harbor, large in size and the origin point of the city's slight smell of fresh fish. Against the stone rail, a couple posed for a portrait, though the artist wasn’t sketching anything like them at all. The woman’s small smile had been transformed into a comically exaggerated grin that rivaled a jester’s and the man, who had tried so hard to look dignified, now sported a nose that was thrice its size.

Cress had never heard of such a portrait before!

“If that’s their idea of a keepsake,” he muttered to Else with a smirk, “they might want a refund. Or a mirror.”

coded by reveriee.

 

[Talathel]

• .
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  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  Touched (not that she will admit it), Relaxed, and Distant
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  Must you ask?

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  Library, 3rd floor
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Navon ( Wyll )
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Saphielle

The Insider

Saphielle blinked her tri-colored orbs slowly, her vision switching from Navon to the place he had brought her. Books lined many shelves and a soft breeze played with her copper and auburn-toned strands. She closed her eyes slowly, allowing the serenity of the room to envelope her. Soft curls brushed her knees as the waterfall-braided hairstyle circled her head in a delicate and dainty crown. The necklace rested against sun-kissed tan skin, amazonite gemstone gleaming daintily as sunlight wafted through a window to play against her skin. Eona made a show of striding around the space, sniffing the room carefully before plopping herself against a bookshelf, giving a whuff of pleasure as she settled down. A soft look entered Saph's gaze as she turned it back to Navon, bowing her head slightly

"Thank you Navon."

Her soft voice seemed to echo but the soft tones of gratitude and fondness sunk into her accented voice as she settled into a chair.

The elegant elven princess settled herself at a table, legs folding under her as she eyed Eona. Giving the canine a soft nod to grab a book so she could read for a bit. Eona trotted over, plopping a fantasy book in front of Saphielle (which earned the arctic wolf a solid, yet fond, roll of the tri-colored gaze). Saphielle gently opened the book, losing herself in the magical world the book explored. Pathways of crystalline streams, weaving through deep emerald forests with bioluminescent flowers. The book stole her attention until everything faded away. Shaking muscles slowly relaxed, trembling fading as the girl lost herself in the wonders of the words. Of course, as everything faded away so too did her awareness. Darkness crept into her vision. Not long after reading, Saphielle's head slowly lowered to the table, resting on the top of the book as she closed her eyes and let sleep take her. The overwhelming exhaustion slowly pulled the princess under its grasp.

Eona huffed softly, turning herself into a white ball of fluff as she too slept, keeping one ear tuned to the outskirts of the alcove, where Navon guarded the duo as they finally fell into a much-needed and fantastic sleep. The wolf gave a soft growl to Navon from her spot on the floor, warning the other assassin that should he make one wrong move while they were vulnerable - he would deeply, utterly regret it. Her tail whipped around, covering her muzzle as icy silver-blue orbs opened to slits, before fully closing.

Saphielle almost resembled an angel while asleep - sunlight falling gently across her form. Auburn hair shimmering with copper undertones as the light caught the highlights. Deep, even breaths puffed from the bow-shaped lips, Saphielle deep in her slumber for the first time in ... well who knows how long. The ex-vigilante rarely slept peacefully, dreams filled with the harsh words of her parents and the cruelty of what she dealt with as a child. Every now and then (more like Once in a Blue Moon honestly), Saph would actually sleep. Letting her guard down enough to rest without her awareness tuned to the world around her. The book lay open under her arms, which cushioned her head as she slept. Her legs were curled to one side, sitting almost like she would sit side-saddle on a horse with an elegant posture to her form. Navon would guard her and hopefully protect her from other nosy agents wandering the library... the 3rd floor rarely got visitors. So the goal was to be as undisturbed as possible.

♡coded by uxie

 

[DeathUnchained]

Jason Elvesh​

Location: Outside Head Library
Mentions: Quill, Saphielle
Interactions:  Zenith

Jason walked his way out of the library. Reflecting on the day so far. Quill seemed to be doing okay. Of course she had battles and problems she wouldn't tell him about. It hurt to realize that he was nothing more than a kind face to her now, but what could he do? There was nothing to be done, but smile and keep going. Hopefully, the pain would stop one day.

The massive half giant took a deep, calming breath at the stairs leading to the library. He looked to the fountain and noticed his big grey buddy was no longer entertaining kids. A quick glance around was all that was needed for him to spot the great pachyderm. The great beast was feeding on a branch. A sweet smile on his face as he whistled "Mumbasa!"

Mumbasa trumpeted a happy noise as Jason ran towards him. The elephant turned and they collided in a loving and wonderful embrace. Jason laughed as the big beast pushed against his weight. His big hand running over the grey and rough skin that folded over the elephant's body "Come on big guy. I told you we were gonna go eat."

As he stroked his beloved pets head he finally took notice of the peculiar looking woman. He smiled and pat his big buddies head "I see you made a new friend Mumbasa."

The elephant made a few joyful noises as he wrapped his trunk around his owner's arm. Jason smiled down at the pale looking girl. Taking notice of her skin and how it shifted. He takes a moment before smiling at her "Zenith....right?"

He recalled seeing her in passing. He had heard about her, but had never seen her or talked to her really. However, now seeing that she was a changeling, he assumed he may have seen her more than he realized.

Taking a moment he smiled at her "That was very good. Close to the real look of the skin. However, I would suggest...."

Jason then went on a short rant about the look of elephant skin. The way it folds, depths of the cracks and even the texture. Using Mumbasa's trunk to show what he was talking about.

After a moment he stopped and chuckled as he scratched the back of his head "Sorry about that. Sometimes I rant a bit." He kneels himself down and offers his massive hand to her. His eyes covered with a visor, onyx armor glistening in the sun with a sweet smile on his face "I'm Jason by the way."

 

[Wyll]

The Fire

Navon
Hara

Navon couldn't see the two of them to know whether she had fallen asleep or not, but when he no longer heard the flipping of pages, he figured that she had finally tired herself out. Of the several times he had come up here himself to escape everything and everyone, he could count on one hand the number of times someone else had disturbed him. He was fairly certain, in fact, that he could let the two of them be and they would sleep peacfully and undisturbed until he returned.

However, he had given his word to watch over her and he wasn't overly fond of going against what he had said. If nothing else, the space provided him a nice quiet space for him to practice his magic.

Looking around to ensure that there were no prying eyes or civilians around, he pulled out a dagger, holding it firmly in his grasp. Seer had told him that, until he can get the domain to go around his entire body, he should focus first on getting it to go around his daggers. She explained that, if nothing else, it would give him more control of the dagger and more options in battle, which was never a bad thing.

He placed the dagger in his palm, and began pouring his magic into it. Seer had told him to see it less as a release of magic and more as a transfer, that he should imagine some magic leaving his body and going to reside within the dagger. As he did, the dagger slowly started feeling heavier within his hand.

All of a sudden, there was a familiar touch on his mind and he immediately knew that his consciousness had been invaded. It came with a dizzying feeling, as though he had suddenly been hit by vertigo. Go on dear, pretend I'm not here. I merely want to see your progress. Seer lulled, her thoughts breaching the walls of his mind as though they weren't even there. The voice was sickeningly sweet, so much so that hearing her tell him to pretend she wasn't there almost seemed mocking.

Eventually, the dagger stopped getting heavier, unable to hold any more magic. According to Seer, magic poured in past this point would simply be to maintain the domain. Navon was already using every bit of focus he had to maintain the domain within the dagger. Imagining how much control Bookie needed to maintain a domain around the entire library was humbling to say the least.

With quiet, controlled breaths - closing his eyes as he focused on getting a mental image of the dagger - he slowly lowered his hand and felt the weight of the dagger be removed. With both hands down, the dagger now floated just above the ground in front of him. And because of his magic that saturated it, he could even feel it. As though a part of him were in the dagger.

His mind reached out to the part of him that was within the dagger and it responded, almost like a hum in his mind. At his command, the dagger started spinning in place. At first, it moved with all the speed and grace of one man trying to push a horse-pulled carriage. However, as minutes passed and he got more comfortable with the feeling of a part of him being removed, the dagger picked up speed until it took less than a second to complete one full rotation.

This wasn't a challenge though. He had gotten this far in his last practice session. Seer had told him to practice more complex movements, and so he turned his focus to trying to get the dagger to move around him, not just spin. For several minutes, despite the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the dagger hadn't moved - almost as though it could feel Navon's doubt in his control over it. It had simply kept spinning, like nothing else was happening.

Just as his frustration with his stagnancy grew ripe, the dagger jolted, as though it had been suddenly yanked by some unseen force. In his annoyance, he had given a command so firm that the dagger finally bent to his will, only stopping because Navon's confusion at the sudden movement had momentarily caused him to lose focus. And now the dagger was back to spinning in place. There was a contemplative hum in his mind, and then he felt his mind suddenly emptied of Seer's presence, like the lifting of a fog.

With the pressure of being watched removed, and his brief moment of success, Navon renewed his efforts to move the dagger. Over time, though he lost track of how much time exactly, he happened upon a few more occasions where the dagger was yanked one way or the other, but never quite managed to get it to move smoothly.

Mentions: Saphielle ( Talathel ).

 

[roxybirdie]

THE TROUBLEMAKER.

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ROAN

"FENNEC"

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

Suspicious...

OUTFIT

RANGER CASUAL

LOCATION

OUTSIDE MAIN ENTRANCE

MENTIONS

KEEP (NPC), ELTAN (NPC), BOOKIE (NPC)

INTERACTS

Kalin

TAGS

WillOWispJJ

BONES — IMAGINE DRAGONS.

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GRIM REAPER,

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?

CHAPTER 1.

Roan Duskraven is a changeling; they will be addressed as Fennec Sunshadow until further notice.​

​

"I didn't mean to infer that at all. I, by no means, was not trying to ‘body shame’ you for liking my baking. I simply was trying to…tease you back in a similar manner to how you tease me."​

His lips curved upward. The smile was undoubtedly mischievous and lighthearted. "I suppose I can forgive you this time," he mused. Fennec paused for a moment. "But you still owe me. Payment upfront." He flicked Kalin lightly on the nose. "If you're trying to tease me, you really need to work on your material, Sparky. I'm sensitive, you know."

"Very well. I assure you that the payment will be quick. So you better have your runic lessons prepared."​

He waved his hand flippantly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm always prepared when it comes to runes, Kal. For your information, I already know what I'm going to start with." Fennec ignored the tumultuous emotions bubbling beneath the surface. If he didn't leave the library now, he would lose it. Suddenly, something warm brushed against his back. He stiffened in response. However, once he spotted the tip of Kalin's tail from his peripheral, he visibly relaxed. "It's going to be simple at first. I need to know if you have a solid grasp on the fundamentals before I teach you anything advanced."

Without another word, Fennec gathered his satchel and followed Kalin down the steps leading to the ground floor. Despite his exuberant smile, Fennec remained silent. Before they reached the first floor, he broke the silence. "Roan didn't care you were too honest..." He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and adjusted the hood on his cloak. "They mainly antagonized you because you reminded them of when I first met them. Skittish and too blunt for their own good." A sorrowful smile painted his lips. "You two were a lot alike. Roan liked to bicker with you because you didn't take their shit lying down. It annoyed the hell out of them, but they appreciated the honesty. They were too stubborn to admit it, but they considered you one of their best friends."

​

Beneath the changeling mask...​

Suddenly, a memory surfaced inside their mind. It was shortly after Fennec introduced them to Kalin.

❪ INSIDE THE MEMORY ❫​

"I don't understand what you see in him. He's annoying! The first words he spoke to me were an insult," Roan grumbled.

A chuckle rumbled in his throat. "You insulted him first, Ro. Telling someone they 'look like shit' isn't the most effective ice breaker," Fennec pointed out.

Blood rushed to their cheeks. Due to their powder snow skin, the flush on their cheeks appeared bright red. Their pointed ears drooped like a dejected cat. "I was trying to tell him to take a nap! Rest is important, you know. Your words, not mine!" Roan countered.

A soft laugh escaped his lips. "Don't pin this on me, my Moon. I didn't tell you to say those words," Fennec mused. He took a seat on their bed – it was a large king size bed since Roan liked to build a nest out of blankets and pillows – and settled behind Roan. "Rest is important, but don't insult agents, love. We've only been in Seal for a few months. We can't afford to make more enemies," he reminded.

"But-"

"Unless it's justified. I know you won't take insults lying down. I won't stop you from defending yourself."

"But-"

"We aren't in the Academia anymore, Ro. I saved you from one execution. I don't want you to get yourself killed."

"But..."

"Please give him a chance. Kalin needs a friend. We're all new here so we might as well be friends."

Roan crossed their arms and slumped forward. Their bottom lip jutted forward in a pout.

Fennec heaved a sigh. "So stubborn..." Fondness was evident in his tone. He carded his fingers through his lover's snow white hair. The pale hair matched their pale complexion. As a changeling, Roan didn't have a single drop of melanin. He started to separate his lover's hair into different sections. Since Roan's hair was extremely long – it cascaded down to their ankles – Fennec developed the habit of braiding his lover's hair. "He reminds me of you when we first met. You were so skittish after the bear attack. Yet your words alone could cut through brambles. I suppose that's why I wanted to be his friend."

They twisted their head back. "Sparky and I are nothing alike!" Roan protested. Their glittering pitch black eyes sparked with indignation. Their sclera and irises are the same shade of black, forming an endless void. The unusual shimmer in their eyes reminded Fennec of a galaxy. Their starry eyes are his favorite feature. "I wasn't skittish, Fen. I was cautious. There's a difference!"

His lips twitched. "Of course," he conceded. Fennec started to braid the first section of his lover's hair. "You're the most cautious person in all of Doran," he announced.

They wrapped their tail around their lover's waist. The tip of the heart-like spade (on the end of their tail) jabbed Fennec in the stomach. "I know you're teasing me, Foxy. I wasn't skittish," Roan grumbled.

Fennec leaned forward and kissed the underside of Roan's jaw, directly over the claw-like scars marring their neck. Three slash marks extended from the tip of their left temple, down their jawline, and across their neck diagonally, ending near their collarbone. They felt their lover relax and purr. The soft, rumbling sound made him smile.

"Sparky, hm? It seems you two are already friends."

"We're not friends!"

"Maybe after you apologize, you two can start over."

Roan huffed in response. "I don't wanna..."

"Please? For me?"

The tips of their pointed ears flushed a bright red. "Fine ... I'll apologize to the rude bastard. If he insults me again, I'm not holding back!" Roan declared.

A warm laugh escaped his lips. "Of course, my Moon."

〔My Moon: Fennec is saying it in Elvish.〕

❪ BACK TO REALITY ❫​

A few seconds passed, but it felt like an eternity. Their heart clenched. If Fennec were here, he would've said, 'I told you so', but...

No. They can't afford to think like that. If they spiral down the rabbit hole again, it would trigger another episode.

Yet ... Fennec wasn't wrong. In the end, Roan considered Kalin a friend.

'Are you sure he's only a friend and nothing more? You can't hide it forever.' a voice sneered.

Roan banished the thought viciously. They refused to let the hallucinations get to them.

​

The changeling mask is equipped...​

"Wonderful, Keep and Eltan are here. Perhaps we should go say hello to them."​

Fennec followed his friend's gaze. "Oh? You're right. I wonder..." A frown marred his lips. His dark brown eyes sparked with curiosity and a hint of suspicion. Something in his gut told him it wasn't a harmless coincidence. However, what was it? Why was Eltan with Keep? Unlike Bookie, Keep was (or should be) unknown; an ordinary 'civilian' who doesn't work at the library. Did something change? Why did Keep approach Eltan? Or did Eltan approach him first?

"Hi, Kalin! Oh! I'm doing great! I've just been reading this new book. It's called The Lion's Scar! And I've been exploring around Kidem! Did you know-"​

He hummed in response. "The Lion's Scar? Was it recommended by someone I know–" Before he could continue, Keep interjected. His frown deepened. Once the two disappeared, Fennec watched them leave. A few minutes later, he exited through the main door of the library. Despite the hustle and bustle of the busy street, he drowned out the foot traffic, focusing on Kalin.

"The Lion's Scar is a popular children's book. I haven't read it in awhile so the details are a little hazy. Who do you think recommended it to Eltan?" Fennec inquired. His tone remained casual and relaxed. However, his eyes were razor sharp. Since they were outside, the silvery blonde instinctively masked their true intentions.

To the untrained eye, they initiated a friendly conversation with a companion.

"Where to? You lead the way, Kal."

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Shadow]

"I have failed you in this labyrinth of my mind..."

Kygo

The Shadow

• .
• .

• .
• .

location

Gardens Outside Lasalle Library

mentions

snek

interactions

Quill
( Klown )

The limited number of pleasantries in Kygo's repertoire would only take him so far, and he couldn't help but reckon with that as the lorekeeper returned his comment and the conversation quickly spiraled into silence.

Silence wasn't the problem, but figuring out what he ought to do next certainly was.
Of further concern, he couldn't tell if his attempt to make a good impression had succeeded. He frowned and searched the ground as if for some cosmic response, but mostly, he was tempted to accept failure and just make his escape.

Then, Quill turned away from him, attention seemingly drawn to the scuffle under a nearby bush, and Kygo couldn't help but wonder if she saw him so confidently as a non-threat. She wasn't even carrying a weapon...
The apparent trust between Seal agents continued to chafe against his suspicion that they were all just far stronger than they let on. Perhaps she really could defeat him, even without a weapon.

Then again, he had found her face down in a creek, so he probably was over-estimating the threat she might pose.

Kygo wasn't going to take the risk of finding out, but the opposing conclusion, that he had earned her trust so easily, was strangely unnerving.
He had spent so much time as a threat to anyone in his proximity, yet now, the decision not to hurt anyone was made constant; a script written across his heart that promised to keep it beating if he held to it.
He barely had any memory of the day he'd made that commitment, but somehow, he was content to let it govern his life for the privilege of staying with the Seal.

Kygo was relieved for the distraction provided by a sickening crunch of bone and flesh from the lizard-turned-prey, even while it sent a shiver of repulsion down his neck.
Despite the wretched sounds made by hungry jaws, Kygo was familiar with the small family of snakes inhabiting this garden and wasn't inclined to hold grudges against them...no matter how nauseating their dinner noises were.

Personally, he preferred to make cleaner kills, and usually would have left the garden for a while to escape hearing range of their digestion: but instead, he allowed himself the curiosity to step forward, within an arm's length of Quill, to see which of the snakes had made a feast for themselves.

Between the branches, one of the adult snakes was just at the tail-end of inhaling the lizard; a visibly self-satisfied coil of indulgence, with the darkened stripe along its back offering a respectable camouflage against the mulched earth beneath.
Kygo tilted his head in comfortable kinship with the gaze of flecked gold that flashed against the sun, looking up at him in complete nonchalance.

"You know about snakes?"

he asked softly, taking brief note of the fascination Quill seemed to share toward the snake.
Part of his reason for watching wildlife was the isolation it offered from people, but he was reminded yet again of his personal quest to learn more about snakes and found himself slightly more inclined to take the opportunity this time.

After all, a good way to be friendly was to talk about shared interests...according to the dubious advice he'd received from certain agents, anyway.

Kygo steeled himself, and spoke again.

"Do you know where to find a book about snakes?"

In the next moment, Kygo realized clarification might be needed, since he wasn't actually curious about any missions involving snakes. For now, at least.

He brought his hands up in front of himself, palms held flat to pantomime the two covers of a book, opening and closing.
He could only watch his own hands as he did it: the memory of learning the hand-sign in the quiet, forest house rose up to whisper over his shoulder in phantom tones.

Kygo's jaw clenched, and his hands stiffly tucked themselves back into his pockets.

"The Library has a lot of books,"

he explained, using the sharpened edge of his own voice to erase the aching memory of hers.

"If you know the right section to look in, I'd...appreciate it."

Attention returned to the snake's gentle pulse, dark eyes locking onto the mesmerizing glint of scales on her arrow-shaped head and the languid way she was basking in the satisfaction of a good meal.
Kygo couldn't bring himself to envy her peaceful life, but on days like this, he was compelled to cling to it as an oasis anyway, fleeting though it was.

coded by reveriee.

 

[CloudySkyLoftyMoon]

Îstoire – The Glutton

The Library | Kidem

Mentions: Navon, Aricia, Scarlett
| Tags: lyn. CrimsonInk

A new corset she says…

Îstoire was no connoisseur of feminine fashion, especially when it came to races whose biology and living environs were so different to his own; however, that didn’t mean his was ignorant to the value of ‘corsets’. After all, it wouldn’t be an understatement to say feminine fashion played a part in many an almost-war between the Mer-Clans and the surface dwellers.

Of course, it wasn’t just feminine fashion—that would be a horribly reductionist statement—but as Îstoire understood, when Falin had launched its offensives many a nation had responded with military re-armament. One could scarcely defend themselves without weapons, after all. And, as the demand for iron rose, supply was siphoned from less crucial industries such as fashion.

Corsets, whose metal frames were commonly metallic, could no longer be supplied and, in a stroke of innovation, the surface dwellers had transitioned to corsets made of whale bone, baleen to be specific. With this increased demand for whales—for they truly were the backbone of many-a-industry, their bodies harvested for meat, perfumes, soaps, oils, and now even clothing—crews of whalers, blinded be profits, trespassed into Mer-clan waters to meet the demand.

The situation hadn’t escalated to war, but treaties had been made to regulate surface activity in Mer-clan waters. All that was to say corsets were a luxury and they carried a price to match. It wouldn’t be easy to afford a normal corset much less a specialized one for swimming.

But was that not simply the price one paid to approach perfection?

”You’ve got a deal. I’ll get a corset for you.”

He didn’t know where or how much he’d need to pay, but Îstoire was certain he could accomplish it. However,

”I haven’t spoken to Navon much, but he appears a reasonable fellow impressed by pragmatic solutions; assuredly, once understands the benefits he’d spare no haste in contributing his signature. I would even offer the same bonus to him, swimming lessons. Couldn’t we get a corset for as well?”

If it could improve his chances of successfully completing a mission, Navon wouldn’t disagree. That was the impression Îstoire had of the man.

That aside,

”Excellent idea, Scarlett! I’ll consider a good meal and better company as payment enough for my services.”

Îstoire had planned on getting food anyway, he certainly wasn’t going to turn down a lunch ticket.

”In fact, maybe you could recommend some stores in the process? Where do you go to get your corsets?”

 

[Sir Mayday]

CODE BY SEROBLISS

Zenith

The Prodigy

Name: Zenith

Gender: Female

Interactions: Jason, DeathUnchained

Location: Outside Head Library

Nothing good lasts forever. Zenith had been enjoying her elephant shifting, appreciating how it doubled as excellent practice for mimicking wrinkles. She had even paused to pat the elephant’s side. She addressed it “Your calm participation has been noted. You are above tolerable. Good beast." Her moment of peaceful practice was short lived though. The owner of the elephant had called out, and the beast responded with a trumpet roar so sudden and loud that Zenith yelped. She instinctively darted away. Her mind went into so many directions. It had been a ploy, a trap she thought! Her body reacted before her mind could catch up, and she dove into her flight instincts. Not with undignified scrambling, of course. No, Zenith rolled. With finesse. She rolled across the ground and found shelter behind the tree. Not her finest retreat, but certainly not her worst.

From behind the tree, Zenith peeked out with wide eyes. Her body slowly shifted back to her previous pale persona. The dark, wrinkled skin tone faded slowly. Her eyes blinked, their whites reappearing as she watched the large man approach the elephant and embrace it. Zenith’s suspicion deepened as she observed then. Such affection for a war beast? It was not typical. The man’s ease and comfort with the creature was curious. Perhaps even calculated.

She hummed softly and straightened as the man turned and approached her. He was tall and Zenith found herself scowling faintly at the realization she would never reach such height. As he drew near she crossed her arms and fixed him with a cool gaze. “You are correct. It is I, Zenith" she said, her tone clipped and formal.

She recognized this man. A formidable fighter. Yet he had said...Close he had said? Zenith bristled internally. She had been perfect! Yet, as Jason delved into detailed about the texture and appearance of the beast her irritation waned. His insights were thorough, even impressive...maybe. He spoke with a confidence, all the while casually stroking the elephant and showing her practical evidence to support her lesson. It was clear he had trained the creature exceptionally well. Could it even harm him if it tried? Unlikely, Zenith thought. Jason was far too lax and too… friendly. His smiles only heightened her suspicion. Had he orchestrated this entire encounter? Still, Zenith would not let him see her unease. Her back straightened, and she said with measured grace, “You are well versed in the likeness of your beast. I will take your suggestions about the skin under advisement.”

Her eyes flicked to his outstretched hand, roving over its size and details. After a brief pause, she met his gaze and offered a practiced smile. One that did not reach her eyes. She stepped forward with deliberate precision, each movement exuding poise. She placed her smaller hand in his and said, “Jason, I have heard of you and seen you many times. Hard to miss, really. A handshake from someone your size feels more like a challenge than a greeting. We have not met in such a way before. Should I be flattered or worried?” She shook his hand firmly, careful not to match his strength. She tried to convey confidence without hesitation. No, she would not let this beast master intimidate her. Not with his smiles or his carefully placed shows of power! Surely, he had an agenda!

Zenith couldn’t shake the feeling there was more beneath the surface. More communication needed to determine goals. Zenith tilted her head with a faint smirk. “You were not ranting. Just an impassioned lesson with dramatic pauses and hand gestures,” she said lightly. “That’s not a rant, I believe.”

Her gaze shifted to Mumbasa, studying the beast once more. “It is a fine beast. How often do you take it into battle?” she asked with some curiosity.

 

[Klown]

Location: Garden outside the Library > Inside the Head Library
Interactions: Kygo Shadow
Mentions:

His first question registered moments after he’d spoken the second, which tumbled into awareness when Quill faced him. He kept his distance, Quill noticed. The silence between them was tangible in its occupation of space. From the transient memories of her experiences, people opted for the opposite of distance in the confines of quiet. They drew nearer to capture each secretive susurration spelled by hushed lips. But nothing of this interaction carried the intimacy that secrecy engaged, not did it carry the expectancy of quietude like in the library. It was simply silence for the sake of it. Rhyme or reason unfounded. Quill wondered why, but not enough that the question clawed at her tongue, momentarily taken by Kygo’s inquiry about snakes.

Quill recognized what he wanted was not a mission. She noticed how rigidness found his jaw and tension seized his hands, stiff as ice and shoved into his pockets for warmth or escape. A sharp incongruity to the appreciation he promised, but Quill couldn’t decipher further than that. The piercing silver of her eyes couldn’t glean beyond the shield of skin, but the whetted edges of his unease softened for a paltry second. Illusory, almost, like a ticklish brush against the arm when nothing was there to touch it.

“I can take you to it,” she spoke evenly, stating a fact rather than making an offer. If one book of snakes could soothe him, she’d bring him twenty. There was a selfish pinch to her inclination. The giddy pride of holding the knowledge that someone sought and readily presenting it to them. The ache to be useful; the relief when it’s proven true. It’s tempered—like most of Quill’s sentiments—in all but her tail and the sprouting blue flowers in her wet hair. “Come.”

Her clothes had stopped dripping once inside the library again, though still cold and clinging to her skin. Barefooted, the fae soundlessly trekked through the tables and high shelves, her eyes faltering from the path ahead only when glimpsing the indicative plaques on the aisles. Science, nature, animals. Her eyes skimmed the spines of books as if she were stripping them bare with a glance alone, discerning of all their contents.

She plucked out a book detailing the different species of snakes across Tainam, even those that evolution has long abandoned. She plucked another, rich with studies of prime environments for snakes and each of their favored climates. There was one of snake venom and its uses for poisons and remedies alike. A collection of folktale anthologies centered or featuring serpents. Each was handed off to Kygo without so much as a peek in his direction. She ignored the ladders and scaled the shelves themselves, reaching a book which explored the depths of differentiating snakes from others in their species, behavioral patterns, and general preferences.

Gracefully slinging herself back onto the floor, deftly landing on her toes, she hands her final contribution to Kygo’s stack.

“These will provide good insights on snakes, though I don’t doubt there are more.” Absentmindedly, her fingers find the Echobinder’s case and clip it open, pulling out the tome as if it would provide further enlightenment. She could ask it, she thought, and then felt an itch at the center of her brain.

Quill’s pupils sharpened into daggers. Piercing slits at the center of wide unblinking moons staring at Kygo. The first wave that hit her was wrongness; aversion. What stood before her was a miasma bending into a human shape but with obsolete nuances. Amiss in the same vein as a pocket of shadow within a burgeoning light. The Echobinder hummed in her hands, its weight more pulling than before. The scent of the arcane laden in and around Kygo. A spell. No, a curse. No…what is it?

Whether spell or curse, Quill could always find the unravelling tether. Identify its conditions and surmise where to find the string that would dismantle it all. What she was seeing was as much a part of Kygo as his veins, but too obtrusive in contrast to the innate magic she saw in non-humans. The earmuffs seemed to tame it. Whatever it was, Quill could see how it sucked in the sounds of the air around it. The noise flooding into Kygo how water rippled if disturbed, but in reverse.

Ask it. Ask it. Ask the question. What is it.

She closes the book softly, the shrill itch in her mind soothing into a dull ache. Whatever it was, it seemed Kygo was aware enough to protect himself against it.

“What is it about snakes that fascinates you?” Quill asked, Kygo’s input likely more beneficial to his search than that of an ancient tome. ​

 

[DeathUnchained]

Jason Elvesh​

Location: Outside Head Library
Mentions: N/A
Interactions: Zenith

Jason didn't really consider himself a savant of human behavior. However, he could tell that there was a specific distrust in her action. He had been an assassin long enough to understand that certain people just gave an aura of lacking trust in others. She hid it better than most, but this pale creature couldn't hide her distrust of him. Despite this fact he didn't see the need to be on defense with her. It's not like there was much she could do to hurt him, whether or not this was an arrogant thought was irrelevant.

The half giant smiled, sitting down to equalize the height difference a bit "I guess I can see how my size can be....intimidating. You should know that I have no intention on harming you. I'm just friendly."

The elephant laid down next to its owner. Jason smiled as the Beast wrapped its trunk around him, sort of like a child hugging its parent. The large Man simply chuckled a bit as he began to stroke the big animals large facial appendage. He looked at the pale Changeling, beginning to wonder about her. She seemed like a rather interesting character. Ironic coming from the half Giant wearing a full suit of black armor and a visor over his eyes. Knowing he would only look more out of place if he had his sword on him. After a moment he simply decided to talk with her, maybe he would learn about her and maybe gain an interesting friend.

When she asked about taking Mumbasa into battle he laughed. A deep and guttural laugh as he moved his hand up, gently stroking the large beasts head, earning happy little noises and ear flaps from the elephant "This big baby is too soft for battle. At most he can probably act as a pack beast, but he is a spoiled pet, so battle isn't for him. He's just a pet."

He definitely understood why she thought he was meant for battle. Mumbasa was a bit bigger than he was, but fighting was always more of what he did. Mumbasa was more for loving. A fact made clear by watching the great animal nuzzle its large head against its half giant father figure.

Despite the elephant's size and weight, never once did it seem like Jason was affected by it. It was like this massive creature that most would have trouble with based on size alone, barely registered as anything when compared to his brute strength. Cuddling with such a large creature would be dangerous for Less physically capable people. It seemed like it caused little difference to the half Giant.

Jason's gaze returned to the pale skinned woman. Smiling at her as though she were a long term friend "Your skill of shifting is quite impressive. You are wonderful. So is it a magical skill or biological? Do you experience sensations differently when you shift or does it all feel the same?"

 

[Shadow]

"I have failed you in this labyrinth of my mind..."

Kygo

The Shadow

• .
• .

• .
• .

location

Outside Gardens --> Lasalle Library

mentions

...

interactions

Quill
( Klown )

The fleeting moment was, characteristically, over too soon when Quill readily offered to guide him to the section of the Library he sought. Kygo was left with but a moment to spare another glance toward the snake's embodiment of leisure, then he fell into an instinctive pace behind Quill, one long stride for every second stride she took.
Though denial held onto the garden's peace for as long as possible, the lorekeeper's footsteps landed lightly enough to comfortably occupy his attention with the effort of matching her pace while they moved through the street and proceeded into the Library.

Once inside, Quill's expertise clearly conveyed itself as she took them straight to an area with high shelves and no occupants, and commenced pulling books from their places.
Kygo could only make a cursory inspection of the Library's soundscape before he was compelled to hold up his arms as a shelf and accept the first book without question.
His concern quickly grew, though, when she continued to dispense book after book. She didn't even pause to request the use of his height, as deft movements turned the higher shelves into nothing but a minor obstacle to her determination.

These books weren't all for him, surely?

The ones in his arms seemed to weigh him down, heavy in implication more than reality.
It could take him months, or even a year, to read all of them within the constant intrusive presence of the city.

Then Quill suggested that even more books might have relevant information about snakes, and any gratitude he'd been able to muster earlier had, by his estimation, expired.
Kygo's mind formed the words of thanks, but he already knew his mouth wouldn't speak them when his lips parted.

"I don't need this many."

It was spoken firmly to avoid inviting further questions, but somehow his hands had curled over the bindings of the books, deciding on their own not to give any of them up.
In resignation, he shifted the stack of books in his grasp, pressing them flatly against his chest as if they could provide a barrier between him and his discomfort...as if that feeling could somehow be external to himself.
Anyway, he didn't have to read them all.

But Quill then proceeded to open the leather case slung around her hips, revealing another book and causing agitation to clash against his restraint.
Was she really giving him yet another thing to read?
Her fingers had found a page to turn to, so that didn't seem to be her intention, but Kygo was naive to her thoughts and tuned haplessly into sensation: the hitch in her breath gave a hint at something akin to disgust before it quickly dissipated into the stern fixation of her gaze on his figure.
Kygo's shoulders tensed under a sudden palpitation of anxiety, more overwhelming than Quill's scrutiny might have caused alone.

For the first time in a while, his mind directed itself toward the comforting promise of his blades, without the confines of the training room to justify it. The mini-library in his arms was all that kept his hands from twitching toward such dangerous territory.
But the shield of books only soothed the area of his chest directly beneath it: everywhere else on his body felt exposed, eroded to the point of nauseating vulnerability beneath the crawling of noises and the suspicion that his senses were trying to grasp at something that wanted to remain unheard.

Kygo searched for it with stiff determination, letting his eyes fall from Quill's to frown, unseeing, at the tiled floor. His concentration made its patrol across the Library, raking over its patrons and through the halls, perusing each echo to find nothing but normalcy within the elusive implication of something out of place.

He didn't lift his eyes when another question was posed, but his heart began to pulse faster with the uncertainty of a stray dog being approached by a looming stranger: which was the threat, the extended hand or the booted foot?

"They're quiet. Most reptiles are, but snakes move like water. I want to..."

The explanation spilled itself easily enough but trailed off on a guarded sentiment, while most of his divided attention went cautiously toward the outskirts of his surroundings: he wouldn't allow himself to be careless if there was some anomaly within or around the Library.
Then again, Kygo knew he wasn't the Seal's first line of defense either.
The crease of his brow deepened as the reminder sent his purview to Bookie's discrete corner, but it wasn't much comfort to find that nothing was amiss there either.

He must be missing something...or perhaps he had already missed it, since the eerie suggestion of static had all but faded from his ears.
A wave of disgust washed over Kygo.
Either his hearing was losing some acuity, or...was he coming down with a cold?

Kygo squeezed his grip in a pseudo-hug around the books and his body slowly began to retract its alarms, allowing him to muster an attempt at distraction from the strange sensation that had overtaken him.

"I haven't borrowed a book before,"

Kygo offered, leaning awkwardly on the implication that he didn't know the cost or protocol of it either.
He certainly didn't want to hint at an obligation if there was none, but he preferred to know if he was incurring some debt before it came due.

It seemed like something he ought to remember from his initiation into the Seal, but in fairness, he hadn't expected to bother with the Library's selection of books.
This self-indulgence...he couldn't begin to fathom it.

coded by reveriee.