[ it is an unfamiliar sight: creatures of all kinds, content to hold one another's hands and drink in the warmth of the fire. a so called peace, uninterrupted and true.
he doesn't want to believe it. he had not asked his soul to be rekindled, nor did he find himself deserving it; it was an objective judgement, righteous and true. still, he is here, suited in his armor, a sword at his side.
his form is awkward, bordering boyish; in this moment, you're liable to mistaking him for a young man as opposed to a former eldritch lord of the night. but it's difficult-- to be around people, in their natural element again. to be human. he sits at the fire, a glass of wine in hand. ]
Saint John's Eve? [ he questions, in equal parts curiosity and condescension. ] It had been unknown to me-- that humans still partook in such revelry. [ a shake of the head. ] I suppose, even amidst the sands of time, they remain unchanging. 'Twas not a protest... [ an inkling of a smile. ] More a comfort, even in these foreign lands.
[ a raise of his glass as the fireworks burst into vision, splotches of reds and cyans and yellows tearing through the night sky. a pinky raises-- ]
Would you ask that I scrawl your name into those stars, my dear?
[ somehow, the offer is entirely earnest. ]
ii. be my wife!!
[ the hills are lush with greenery, reminiscent of another time, another place; it strikes nostalgia with him, and he attempts to outrun it with every passing second, lest he regress into the sad, pathetic dog that he is.
so it's time to carry a wife. he stands before you, shoulders proud, arms outstretch. ]
Should you find yourself in need of a suitor-- I would be honored to carry you, as my wife. Marital arrangements shan't be necessary. Let us play the part, if only for this moment.
[ he smiles brightly, features benign, taking this completely seriously as his arms remain outstretched. no, it doesn't matter if you aren't a woman, how you look or what your stature may consist of; he is still saying this to you. ]
iii. dance
[ it is in a former knight-- and lord's nature to extend a dance to those straggling along the sides. oersted bows in a eloquent and fluid motion, paying utmost respect. ]
My child. You appear to be what one may call "bow legged". [ why is he insulting you, bro. ] 'Tis my duty, as the arbiter of sin and most abominable horror to taint these pure lands, to aid you as I might. Please, allow me this dance.
[ Yes, she is wife material, thank you, except this is not the person she wants calling her wifey, this is a man who (possibly) looks like he strode right out of a Knight's Tale and she just sort of looks him up. Looks him down.
Well. Could be worse. ]
I feel like we're skipping a few steps here, but sure. I'm interested in being princess carried once in my life.
[ This is not the first time, but you know, maybe it's different when you're not being slammed out of the air or because you legitimately can't walk from Weekly Episodic Injury-- ]
[Watch these bow legs try to kick Oersted in the shin, bitch!] Absolutely not! What's your problem? I've been on my feet all day, I'm tired, and now I've got some weird guy coming out of nowhere calling me bow legged?
[ she is most familiar with desolation and sterility; so much green had only been seen within the four corners of a screen. but this was tangible. this was real. the air was heady with the scent of dew-slaked florals, and she trudges across the softly soaked grass in her heeled boots. it was romantic, yes, but also somewhat foreboding. after all, she had little idea what to expect. just what kind of creatures lurked and prowled in this untouched, untamed environment?
that's when she hears his voice.
she blinks. once, twice. ]
Umm, are you like, OK? Why are you talking like that? Did you, like, hit your head or something?
[ he sounded like jonas, and that creeps her out a little. ]
And like... wife? Huh? You don't even like, know my name!
[...Bro why are you talking about humans as if you aren't human yourself? Scott squints at the dude sitting next to him behind his red sunglasses, before just shrugging and paying attention to the fireworks display above them. It's not going to ruin his day! Besides, he probably just has a weird manner of speech; he already sounds like someone from the middle ages or something.
Scott was totally fine with just sitting here, staying silent and watching the spectacle despite it being all in red to him, when he hears Oersted speak once more and. Uh, is he asking him that???? The mutant blanches.]
Uh, are you talking to me? [He looks around, as if double checking.]
[Levi was lurking around the edges because he didn't want to dance, not because he couldn't. (He also couldn't dance anyway.) He frowns and steps back from Oersted. Was that an insult?]
oersted | live a live | tdm
ii. be my wife!!
iii. dance
ii
Well. Could be worse. ]
I feel like we're skipping a few steps here, but sure. I'm interested in being princess carried once in my life.
[ This is not the first time, but you know, maybe it's different when you're not being slammed out of the air or because you legitimately can't walk from Weekly Episodic Injury-- ]
ii.
She should just ignore it and move on. And yet.]
It'd be more efficient if I carried you.
ii | how tf am i not supposed to pick this one
My my! I had thought to offer to carry you myself, but how am I to ignore how confident you sound?
Well. If you are certain you can bear my weight, I shall not refuse you, my "husband."
iii
ii
that's when she hears his voice.
she blinks. once, twice. ]
Umm, are you like, OK? Why are you talking like that? Did you, like, hit your head or something?
[ he sounded like jonas, and that creeps her out a little. ]
And like... wife? Huh? You don't even like, know my name!
i; midsummer
Scott was totally fine with just sitting here, staying silent and watching the spectacle despite it being all in red to him, when he hears Oersted speak once more and. Uh, is he asking him that???? The mutant blanches.]
Uh, are you talking to me? [He looks around, as if double checking.]
iii
Um, n-no thank you.
[Wait as the what now?]
...your duty as what?
iii
Um...
[He's not quite sure how to respond to this.]
W-well, I don't have much practice when it comes to dancing... [Wait, isn't he just saying that this guy is right???]