[open + closed prompts]

[likethestars]

Who: Yuja Wightshade + Others
Where: Various
What: Catch-all
Warnings: possible spoilers for Endwalker and Pandaemonium raids



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Will match prose or brackets.

Comments

for beshackled

[likethestars]

[ Being confined to bedrest does not get more exciting as the days pass. Sure, resting is helping, she's healing instead of reinjuring herself, but it's so, so boring. Even sleep doesn't seem to make time pass any faster.

The only thing she has to look forward to is when someone comes to visit her.

When Erichthonios comes in he'll find her sprawled on the bed staring up at the ceiling, though only for a moment. Because the moment she hears someone enter she's scrambling to sit upright despite any pain it causes her, tail practically wagging. ]

Oh, thank the gods. I'm losing my mind here.

[beshackled]

[Erichthonios offers a meek smile in response to the declaration.]

Ah... I pray you forgive me for insisting upon your stay.

[He shifts the bundle of stems in his arms; sunflowers and scented geraniums, delphiniums and daisies. An assortment, as he has no idea what she likes, or even if she has a favored color.]

I... brought you some flowers. To brighten up your environs... and to bring a bit of the world to you.

[Seeing as how her injury has put their travelling plans on hold.]

[likethestars]

I guess I can forgive, seeing as you brought me a gift. [ Her tone is almost teasing. ]

I should be able to leave in the next few days as long as I continue to rest. [ A bit of good news, especially for her. Even if she'll still need to take it easy for a little bit after. ]

You can leave them on the bedside table. I'll have to find a way to preserve some of them later. Thank you.

So what have you been up to?

[beshackled]

[Smile brightening at the good news, Erichthonios makes his way over to her bedside.]

Mostly, I have been aiding those we brought back from the desert in building housing for those here. But, having heard about all the wildflowers blooming, I thought to take early leave for a while to see the spectacle for myself.

[Recalling his first foray into the field of wildflowers, he grimaces momentarily.]

I... do not advise going near the poppies without a mask.

[Did he learn that the hard way? Yes, he learned that the hard way.]

[likethestars]

More housing is necessary now, isn't it?

[ She wonders how many more people will show up and need lodging. Whatever these apparent gods are doing they haven't seemed to think much about where everyone is going to live once they're here. ]

What's wrong with the poppies?

[beshackled]

...Some of the flowers have... unusual properties to their pollen.

[He cringes again. 'Tis an embarrassing story for him, to fall victim to such a thing.]

As I bent down to examine the poppies, I was overcome with the need to sleep, and collapsed not a moment later.

[likethestars]

Oh. [ Her eyes widen a little. ]

That could be helpful, though. We should gather some for later use.

[ One never knows when they might need to knock some troublemaker out. ]

[beshackled]

Aye. I was thinking the very same. It could be useful in incapacitating those who are like the people we encountered in the desert.

[Subconsciously, he reaches out, fingers stretching towards her wound.]

I know you are strong, and that in your battles you may incur any number of wounds... but I would prefer they be the sort that can be healed quickly... for your sake, and, I admit, my own.

[And he is sure Themis worries for her as well.]

[likethestars]

[ She watches him reach out toward the injury on her side and doesn't do anything to stop him. It's only after he says what he says that reaches out to give his hand a pat. ]

Normally, I heal much faster. There was just something strange about what those things could do.

Don't worry, I'll be more careful.

[beshackled]

In that case... I shall collect as much of the pollen from the poppies as I can find, and share it with you and Themis both... and any others that might benefit from it and be trusted to wield it responsibly.

[There is one other he would seek out to give a portion of it to... with all the appropriate cautions, of course.]

[likethestars]

I can help once I'm free.

[ Between the two of them, they could gather twice as much. ]

We'll need to find something to store it in, though.

[beshackled]

Aye, and we cannot rely upon our magicks to create it, lest the magick come undone at an unfortunate time.

[And knock them out instead.]

I wonder what material would be suitable for a container...

[likethestars]

Glass is usually good for holding most anything.

[ Though for use the pollen would need to be put in something else. Which has her thinking. ]

It could be transferred to some kind of fabric bag for use. Something small enough to be thrown that would explode on contact. Or maybe some kind of small pellet that breaks apart with thrown. You know, something that's two parts that fits together.

[ She motions with her hands; a top and bottom shell that fits together to form a ball. ]

for emet_sulk

[likethestars]

Having a drink, or three has never been an issue for Yuja. Her tolerance is pretty good on most days. Today, rather tonight, is apparently not one such night. Either the drinks were too strong or it's been too long since she had any alcohol.

She told Elidibus and Erichtonios she'd only be a moment, but that moment was longer than intended. She's wandered off and is now wishing she hadn't. It was much better when she had the both of them there to cuddle up to. Why did she leave them behind?

Shortly after that thought she has an idea and fishes Azem's crystal from her pocket. Clutching it to her chest she begins to call upon the magic but her thoughts are a little scattered.

Somehow, Emet-Selch will feel the call of familiar magic. The magic of an old friend that shouldn't be possible by anyone in this place.

[emet_sulk]

Emet-Selch is in the middle of reading when he feels that ancient tug. He sits up in shock. Had that been...? It couldn't possibly be...

The summons is not strong. It feels drunken somehow, like a tug on the arm from someone tripping over their own feet. He almost debates ignoring it. However, the thought that Azem might need him preys upon his thoughts. If he ignores it and they're in trouble then he would never forgive himself.

Disquieted, he reluctantly accepts the summons and lets himself be pulled through. He appears in a smattering of starlight. It takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust.

"...How do you know this magic?" he asks tightly.

[likethestars]

Yuja stares at him when he appears as if she's stunned to see him standing there. After a moment she blinks as his words finally process. Everything is trying to work its way through a thick filter of alcohol, a likely painfully slow process for Emet-Selch to witness.

"Ah..." She looks down at the crystal still clutched against her chest before slowly opening her hand and holding it out so he can see the familiar orange crystal. "This."

[emet_sulk]

He stares at the crystal in her hand. She shouldn't have it. It's something he made for himself, in memory of them.

He slowly reaches into his own pocket and draws out the crystal of Azem, holding it out beside the one in Yuja's hand.

"Don't tell me that I gave that to you before I died."

[likethestars]

She looks from the crystal in her hand to the one he's holding, brow knitting together as she tries to process this information. It's a slow process but she supposes it makes sense he'd still have the crystal given he's from further back in time than herself.

She stows the crystal away as she shakes her head. "You left them with Hythlodaeus." A pause before she corrects herself, "The shade of him. He gave them to me."

[emet_sulk]

His fist slowly closes over his own crystal of Azem and he tucks it away.

"I knew I was going to die then," he mutters. He gives himself a little shake then draws himself up, arranging his expression into a mask of sternness. "So, what have you summoned me here for then, hero? It had better be important."

[likethestars]

Right, why did she summon him? She shifts from one foot to the other, tail lazily swishing behind her.

"About that..." she starts slowly, "I meant to summon Themis and Erichthonios. But..." She trails off as she feels her stomach turn. A sensation that feels wholly unfamiliar to her given her usual tolerance. She covers her mouth and turns away for a moment, swallowing hard.

cw: brief gore mention

[emet_sulk]

Emet-Selch watches her struggle internally. Then sighs. He steps up, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Better out than in, hero. 'Tis nothing I haven't seen before."

--at the end of a hard battle when the stench of rotting corpses filled one's nose and scavengers tear open fragile bellies to get at the organs beneath--

Even the hardest of soldiers look away and empty their stomachs.

cw: emeto

[likethestars]

Yuja has often prided herself on her iron stomach, but even that scene is more than she can bear. If not the sight, it's the stench that suddenly assaults her senses that does the trick.

She pulls away to put a little distance between the two of them before doubling over to heave some of the contents of her stomach onto the ground with a splash. If the scent of alcohol on her breath before wasn't a good indicator of what was troubling her, then the scent of it now certainly would.

"Eugh..." she groans as she wipes the back of her hand across her mouth. "What in the hells?"

[emet_sulk]

He lets her do what's necessary, wrinkling his nose slightly at the smell. A snap of his fingers creates a handkerchief, which he holds out for the Warrior to take.

"My apologies. I hadn't meant for you to experience that."

He sounds unusually sincere.

[likethestars]

She takes the offered handkerchief, though is careful not to touch him again. Not that touch has ever been necessary for the Echo to do what it does.

She wipes her mouth, eyeing him as she does so. She knows he's old, very very old, and has therefore experienced a lot but she can't help but be curious. "So what was that?"

[emet_sulk]

He shrugs nonchalantly, turning away and crossing his arms. "An old battle. Nothing important. Not to you, at least."

But to those who fought in them, every battle matters. To those who survive, who live to mourn the lost - and Emet-Selch has lost and mourned many.

"I wanted you to empty your stomach but not like that."