ic inbox (kenos)

[gravings]

I will definitely put something here this time

Comments

[salvageable]

[ It's his embarrassment over the situation that keeps him from noticing the devastated look on Gray's face. Dokja's too busy glancing around at everything but her as he hurries over to the table to start clumsily fiddling with the lighter. It takes a few tries, but the flame eventually flickers on, and he awkwardly moves to start lighting the candles one by one.

Thankfully, there aren't that many to light. ]

Eustace mentioned your birthday before and he left something for you. [ Nods to the gift bag. ] I thought... it would be strange if I gave it to you without at least a small celebration.

[ When he looks up after lighting the last candle, he finally spots the expression on her face, and his own shifts into one of concern. ]

... Gray?

Re: june tdm, action

[gravings]

[ Gray's spiritual sensitivity has always allowed her to see beings that might otherwise pass through the world unnoticed by people, and rather than a vehicle for opportunity, she considered it a curse until Lord El-Melloi II found use in it. So naturally the appearance of "ghosts" of late has been alarming to her, and made sharp by the sense that some have seemed familiar to her. They're a strange grade of ghost, seemingly casual and wandering rather than anchored in regret and negativity like she might expect. Even so, old fears are hard to dispel on a whim; she gives the specters wide berth, tense with apprehension over how they might affect her. Especially now that she's effectively helpless against them, robbed of the weapon that would have given her the power to fight the spiritual.

Fear strikes again when she happens to spot a familiar-looking faded form, but in a different way. It's impossible to mistake the tall, silvery ears she's come to know over the course of a year, a sight she's missed dearly over the past few weeks. She'd been hoping to see them again, but not like this.

Why... Why is he a ghost?

The answer is obvious, and yet she denies it with her heart. She could fall to her knees as if her legs were kicked out under her, yet they manage to carry her at a run toward Eustace. A cruel string of hope suspends her, thinking that this could mean anything but a goodbye. ]

Mr. Eustace!

[ She looks much the same as he remembers her, save for the little blonde streak of hair above her left eye. ]

[lockedon]

[ A thousand years could pass and he would still remember the sound of her voice. Thankfully it's only been [checks watch] three weeks, so it remains instinct for him to turn automatically towards the sound of her voice, the very edges of his lips turning down in a faint frown as he spots her rushing towards him. ]

Is something wrong?

[ What's the hurry? It's not as though it's been that long since they've last seen each other (or so he thinks). And then, as she draws close enough for the details of her face and hair and outfit to grow sharp enough for him to notice, he frowns deeper, though this time in puzzlement rather than concern. ]

Did you do something to your hair?

[ Has that annoyance (Mordred) been having more of an influence on her? Is it for a hot date? (If only he knew.) ]

communion

[uproared]

There's a garden plot set aside in Greenwood Yards. Use it, give it away, ignore it; I don't care. It's your problem now.

[gravings]

... Huh?

[ ????? ]

Is there something wrong with it?

[uproared]

Hey, you better not be accusing me of anything!

[ Says the girl who has threatened to kill Gray at least a half-dozen times by this point. ]

[gravings]

[ In a lot of ways, this feels cruel. That gift bag sitting there innocuously with its gifter nowhere to be seen is a reality too far. Dokja's act is undeniably one of kindness, and that too summons a well of feeling in her: that it's more than she deserves, that it's painfully sweet and ordinary of him.

She's never put much stock in her birthday. For a long time, it was a countdown to her inevitable death, and it drowned her in attention she desperately wished to avoid. Dokja's version of a birthday party is a lonely and pathetic affair in comparison, the number of candles on the cake not even close to correct, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Regardless, she begins to cry. She's aware that it's not a very good response to an act intended to make her happy, so she tries to be quiet about it, but the fact sticks out that Eustace isn't here, Add isn't here, the latter having been with her for every birthday twelve years past. It feels wrong to celebrate anything with them gone.

She shakes her head, wipes at her eyes, and forges on valiantly. If she acts like she isn't crying, then maybe they can both pretend it isn't happening and she's just overcome with gratitude. And a small part of her is; this is far more than she would ever ask or expect of Dokja.

She sniffs. ]

I'm not five, Mr. Dokja...

[ She means for it to be a lighthearted comment, but the effect might be lost in light of the waterworks. ]

[gravings]

[ How embarrassing. The mere sound of his voice is enough to put a sting in her eyes. He's acting like nothing is wrong (except for her hair), like he doesn't know he's been gone. It presses into her like a knife at her back, whispering into her ear of a ghost lost in time.

She raises her hand slightly, thinking to touch him, but stops. If her hand passes through him, she won't know what to do — and if he notices the anomaly and acts like anything but his usual self, she won't know what to do either. Instead she lowers her head so her hood covers her face, stuck with pain and indecision. A lump sits in her throat as she responds, stalling with an attempt at a normal conversation.. ]

It changed all of a sudden. [ That's more of less the truth. The full story is much too long to bother him with. ] How does it look...?

[gravings]

[ If Gray is accusing Mordred of anything, it's of Mordred being Mordred. ]

U-Um. I mean, why don't you want to keep it for yourself?

[ She doesn't even live in Highstorm!!! ]

[uproared]

Do I look like the gardening sort?

[gravings]

[ "You said you were awesome at everything," Gray doesn't say. ]

How did you come by this plot, anyway...?

[uproared]

[ Gray was the idiot who believed her :/ ]

I owed Red a favour, so she had me come and help with replanting things over there. We both received one as a reward. If you need ideas for what to do with it, I suppose you could try asking her.

[gravings]

[ It would've made more sense for Mordred to give Rin the plot directly, but maybe she didn't want to be too nice to Rin? ]

Do you two get along very well?

[uproared]

Don't be daft. There's no way I'd ever get along with someone like her, and I'm sure she'd say the same thing about me, too. We're just capable of cooperating when it's convenient for us.

[warmare]

Gray.

Are you free to speak?

[... She's great at greetings. And small talk.]

[gravings]

[ Gray would feel more worried about Hayame trying to sound nice and make small talk... ]

Oh... yes! What can I do for you?

[warmare]

[Okay... maybe that might be more weird. But she's trying to be... Nevermind.]

I require your expertise in Alenroux.

It will likely take several days. If you can commit, I will brief you.

[gravings]

[ He came here for a breath of fresh air? She's skeptical even in this state but used to him keeping things close to the vest, so she lets it go.

She watches as he comes closer, seeing that there must be something concerning about her appearance if he's this visibly ginger about his approach. Well, considering she just came out of the dirt, he's probably justified. When he looks at her face, he'll find that her hair is the only hard change in her; her features are the same as always, if worked into a vaguely depressed air. She doesn't have the presence of mind to shy away from his close scrutiny. ]

I saw London. It was like I'd never left. I was the same age as I was back then... and I didn't have this.

[ She touches the faint scar above her nose, feeling its edges as if to make sure it hasn't disappeared. ]

But it felt real. It was about a month, and I didn't remember anything about having a Shard...

[ So much happened, she can't treat it all like it was just a dream. She trails off, wondering about how to piece everything together. And then her eyes tick wider, and the finger at her scar moves suddenly to a point just above her left eye. ]

Here! Is there anything different right here?

[gravings]

[ Ah, then it's work. That's much more straightforward and comfortable than social interaction, and Gray relaxes accordingly. ]

Alright. I'll make the time. What should I prepare for?

[warmare]

We will head to the northern forests of Alenroux.

General Zaman and the Tribune have committed to the occupation. We cannot appear weak now by simply withdrawing, and so we must address the concerns of the residents. They gripe about our presence, and yet without it, they would still be fleeing from their farms every dusk. Zenith held that island before, but they did nothing to rid it of the monster problem.

So we will rid them of it. I and two others have been tasked with assembling teams to search for the source of the beasts and root it out.

I would have you on that team.

[gravings]

[ There's a bump of surprise through their connection; given Hayame's strict standards, Gray wouldn't have expected to make the jinba's cut. But the surprise quickly smooths into ready acceptance, responsibility an anchor to her spirit. If Hayame feels Gray is reliable enough for the job, then Gray won't take that esteem lightly. And besides, it sounds like a sensible purpose; she's as eager as anyone to make sure the people of Alenroux are happy with them (if a bit less critical about the farmers' attitude than Hayame is). ]

I understand. I won't let you down.

[ It's as simple as that. Less simple will be the arrangement of care for her chickens and Johnny's horse... though actually, ]

Will it be alright if I bring a horse along as well? She does very well in a fight.

[ Slow Dancer requires permission more than any other horse... ]

[warmare]

You have been involved in this since before the occupation began in earnest. You have scouted and mapped areas that others have not.

So I am trusting in your abilities.

[It's that simple. Surely.]

If the beast won't throw you when it scents monster, then bring it.

[They can move faster that way.]

[gravings]

[ "Beast" is a pretty good description. Gray doesn't have the heart to tell Hayame that she'll only be riding Slow Dancer if Slow Dancer feels like giving her permission to do so, but either way she's sure the horse will be an asset. ]

She'll be okay. Slow Dancer is a braver horse than most people are.

[ And more violent too. ]

Then... if there's nothing else I need to know, I'll start preparing now.

[ She has some shopping to do!! ]

[warmare]

[Little does she know she's going to recognize this horse...

But first, the passing thought... "Slow Dancer"? What a weird name. Not that she thinks naming horses in the first place makes any sense, but. ... Fine. She can still trust Gray even if she names her horse something like that.]

There is one more thing.

The General thinks that the source of the monsters may have something to do with that man Aetos. That the witch Yima might be working with him in some way- that it would explain why she never attempted to clear the monsters in Alenroux.

I participated on the raid of Aetos' laboratory in Kowloon to retrieve Vander, some months back. He is a powerful sorcerer, and the traps in that place were deadly. I need you to be ready for that possibility.

i like how i bullied you into this thread and then immediately wandered off

[lockedon]

[ There's one good thing about all this, and it's that he attributes her apprehension to the changes in her person rather than his own current status (which he still hasn't been made aware of). Her sober disposition has him frowning in return, though he does at least do his due diligence in eyeballing her hair so that he can provide an honest answer to the question posed. ]

It looks like a fashion statement. [ Like a tiny blonde cry for attention, though he's certain she would never wish for it as such. ] But it looks fine otherwise.

[ Not all too noticeable, honestly, and something easily accustomed to. More importantly: ]

Do you know what prompted the change?

[ Blonde hair usually turns gray and not the other way around... ]