abraxaslogs | EVENT #12: INVOCATION - IC EVENT LOG (PART 2)

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EVENT #12: INVOCATION - IC EVENT LOG (PART 2)

Event #12 - Invocation ( 2 )

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OOC plotting post | Event coordination post

As Week 3 approaches around March 6th, faction officials will begin to reach out to characters for information they've uncovered that hasn't been reported. Although Thorne, the Free Cities, and Solvunn have traditionally been at odds, the three nations have come together under these unique circumstances,, and will continue to cooperate until the Lost have been recovered. With Nocwich open as a base of operations, the Spared will have a neutral location to meet in person without border restrictions.

How events proceed will depend in part on your actions. If you're one of the Spared, you can join a team or stay back to prepare and coordinate. If you're one of the Lost, you can escape or remain behind to help others break free.

NOTES

For a rough TIMELINE, the Lost's breaking free and the Spared's coordination efforts will take place 2-3 days into Week 3. Leading into Week 4, the Spared will send out their teams to retrieve the Escape and Holdout Groups. Though there's some narrative wiggle room for who returns and when, characters should only participate in one team or group to keep things organized.

A Coordination Post will be used for communications between mods and players both. You can request dice rolls, start investigations, submit or review notable incidents, and begin in-person network-style threads with each other to quickly play out IC interactions. Review the post for forms and other details to fully participate in this event.

The Network will function properly again for the Lost who have escaped. The ones who remain captured will continue to experience disruptions similar to Part 1.

Please don't hesitate to ask us questions or clarification, even if you feel it might be a minor detail. This event contains a lot of information to go over, so we're happy to guide you through anything that requires further explanation. We'd much prefer you ask to avoid any misunderstandings or confusion!

Week 3

By now, several discoveries have been made. You've explored nearly every angle you can. It's time to take what you've learned and do something about the situation, whether you're trapped inside the dark cave or trying to bring your friends home.

Escape | The Lost

CW: Disturbing imagery (text and visual), death, dark and horror-based themes.

The past two weeks have been a harrowing experience, but you're still alive. Though the situation's worsened in some aspects, you've gained advantages in others. You might've formed unexpected allies from the other side, discovered hidden clues, or retrieved weapons and tools.

Moreover, the Acolytes don't seem quite so sure of themselves anymore, do they? Ever since the ritual, they've been watching nervously, as though they aren't confident in what's coming next. Some of you even managed to reveal one of their faces, exposing a weakness.

As you listen to the rattle of chains and scraping of metal on stone, you fear something much worse awaits you. Is it time to strike? Do you work on your own or rally the others? That's up to you, but one thing's evident: you can't sit around much longer.

Players can narrate the commotion and escape how they like, using the details described below. The Acolytes will retaliate and try to stop escape attempts. Killing and attacking them is possible with no need to request a roll, but enough will survive to subdue anyone left behind.

Characters don't need to willingly sacrifice themselves to remain captured. They can also be too injured to leave or fail to make it in time.

The First Domino (Breaking Out)

When the final shrine was unlocked late in Week 2, fleshy pillars rooted themselves into the cavern floor. As your third week in the cave crawls along, the trunk-like pillars begin to move.

A low groan shakes the ceiling above. Rocks fall along with bits and pieces of the bulbous organic prisons attached to the high walls. Chunks of melted flesh from decomposing bodies within the plantlike traps splatter below. Were it not obvious before, it is now: the pillars are legs belonging to a creature. A very large creature.

◎ Unleashed

The creature is not interested in fighting. Instead, it begins to leave. As it does, it takes portions of the ceiling with it, tearing holes above and below. People scurry beneath its feet and are crushed like ants. It does not discriminate between the Acolytes and the natives who are captured.

But it does avoid you and the other Summoned. Either it can't see anyone except you, or it recognizes you and associates you with those who freed it. Regardless, you are spared its destructive path. It lumbers off, dragging thorny vines that whip behind it. Crumpled pieces of the shrines and mangled bodies stick to its massive feet. You can't see where the creature is going, but later you might realize it has vanished into the ocean.

The brief chaos has left you with several openings:

Seawater spills from unseen crevices above, flowing down the walls. Several Acolytes are dead, reducing their numbers.

The already weakened cracked wall crumbles further, granting you an easier path to the webbing behind it.

Equally weakened is the sealed opening where a smaller but deadly creature was previously trapped. A couple of determined hands could free it for a distraction. Beware - it's hungry.

If the boulder hasn't already been pushed out of the way, the rumbling ground and smashed walls might help you finish the job.

Do you grab a weapon and attack the Acolytes while they're disoriented? Do you help save the injured natives? Are you focused on what lies behind the boulder and cracked wall? Do you free the trapped beast? Decide quickly - this could be your only chance.

◎ Opening the Door

Although the ceiling's been torn open, no open sky is revealed. Climbing up is difficult. You'll have to look elsewhere to escape. Once the boulder is removed and the cracked wall is torn down, you'll notice orange sparks that run between the strange bulb behind the boulder and the dense webbing across the cave.

Are you brave enough to reach into the pulsing bulb? If you do, you'll find thick vines connected to its beating heart. Each time a vine is forcibly pulled away and disconnected, the webbing begins to loosen, forming a small opening - but letting go will close the webbing right up again.

The more vines are disconnected, the larger the opening. It'll take 2-3 of you to make an opening large enough for people to go through... and from how quickly it closes, anyone who volunteers understands that they won't be escaping with the rest.

◎ Escape Routes

Do you trust what lies beyond the webbing? Looking through reveals only the dark abyss. You have no idea what's out there, but it can't be worse than what's in here. Can it?

If you don't trust the webbing and have the strength, you can swim down through an opening in the floor, left behind by the giant earlier. It's filled with cold ocean water. If you make it, you'll see a standard portal hidden in the depths.

Choose your path. Each one will spit you out somewhere a little different, but you'll have the chance to look for and meet up with others who took the other route.

If you're one of the Lost keeping the webbing open, you could try to dive for the underwater portal, but you won't make it. The portal will shatter quickly once the vines are released.

◎ Josselyn Creed | Interact

Josselyn Creed is difficult to spot in the commotion but not impossible. A few of her most faithful protect her. She wears a unique robe compared to the others. Her hood is lowered, revealing her brown hair tied in a bun that may be recognizable to some. Her mask is in place.

While she'll escape in the end, she isn't immune to harm. You can try to stop her and, in the process, perhaps contribute to what happens to her as she flees or afterwards.

◎ The Mysterious Acolyte | Interact

Along with the natives who might need your assistance escaping, there's also the strange pair whom a few interacted with. The Mysterious Acolyte and the Unknown Stranger will appear lost and uncertain in the pandemonium.

Some of you promised to help them escape, but saving them comes with a cost: at least one of you must exchange your place in the Escape Group for both of them. She will not leave without her brother, the Unknown Stranger. Her refusal will cost one of the Summoned their place.

Players can decide how the scenario plays out. At least one character must their place in the Escape Group so that the Unknown Stranger makes it through first. Only then will the Mysterious Acolyte follow.

Characters holding open the webbing and vines are not eligible. A sacrifice can only count for one outcome.

Into the Cold (Escape Group)

The first thing you notice is the biting cold. The sky is beginning to lighten. For once, you can breathe in the fresh air. But where are you, really?

◎ Gathering Your Bearings

Though spring is on its way, the mountains are a tundra. Temperatures are cold, though not as terrible as they'd have been in the dead of winter. Maybe you've stolen some warm clothes off the dead before the escape? Or, if you've been kind to the Abraxan natives who shared the ordeal with you, they'll offer supplies and equipment in return. It isn't much, but it could make all the difference if you're in dire straits.

If you swam through the WATER PORTAL, it'll spit you up in an open cave. Wet and cold as you are, at least you've found shelter. Keen eyes might spot an unusual trail of glitter. Follow it to a tiny hidden hot spring. Soaking in the shimmering water are a few mischievous but harmless creatures. One was accidentally set loose at the Peace Summit many months ago, showering multiple attendants in a shimmery sheen. Large beast-like prints are nearby, though, so best not to stay long. Still, it's a nice reprieve while you can get it...as long as you don't mind being coated in glitter.

If you went through the DENSE WEBBING, it'll spit you up on a frozen lake. Cracks will begin to form as more and more land on the surface. You'll need to find solid ground quickly. Take care - a large shadow lurks beneath the thinning ice. If there's too much commotion or excessive movement, it'll realize there's prey above and begin to thrash, disturbing the delicate ice further.

◎ Temporary Relief

Though some healing abilities and magic have returned, the wounds caused by the ritual don't seem to recover properly. They aren't getting worse, but it's troubling. Your mind could remain confused or disturbed. Even those who were successfully cured will discover the lesions heal much slower than other injuries.

As the days wear on, you might feel a strong pull from the Singularity that leads you into the Horizon. This is especially so if you remain under the ritual's influence. If you give in to the urge and find a safe moment to enter, you can go in without as much difficulty as before.

You won't land where you intend, but you might find one of the Spared within. Somehow, the Singularity has brought you together. Something compels you to reach out and make contact. When you do, you'll feel a gentle warmth. You might not know what's happening, but it feels right.

When you depart from the Horizon, effects from the ritual have lessened by a noticeable degree. They'll stay that way for the next day or so, giving you the strength to keep going.

◎ Preparing for the Night

What you do next is entirely up to you. You can organize with your fellow escapees, go off on your own, or try to bring the two groups together. Boars, rabbits, and foxes can be hunted. The surrounding snow can be boiled for safe drinking water.

Even more fortunate, your powers will return - to a degree. Stronger abilities might take longer to return fully, but elemental spells, modest healing, and enhanced senses or traits can be accessed. And you might find that messages on the Network are no longer distorted.

Not all is safe and well: though the first few days are quiet, the mountains aren't without the usual predators. Wolves howl, and large gryphons soar the sky. They're wary of people and are unlikely to attack, but that doesn't mean you should let your guard down. In the wild, you never know. As you enter Week 4, more formidable threats could arise.

Sacrifice (Holdout Group)

Maybe you're one of the unlucky souls, or maybe you chose to sacrifice your place for others. However it came about, both escape paths close, and the Acolytes inside the cavern overwhelm you and the rest once more. Those left behind are a mixture of native Abraxans and the Summoned. The ground is sticky with blood and viscera.

Forcibly, violently, you're led or dragged deeper and deeper down the stone paths to the altar room where the rituals took place. The Acolytes push as many of you in there as they can and seal the door - and if a few limbs are caught in the way, that's just too bad. Someone with you, perhaps one of the natives, ends up with a crushed finger or hand as the doors slam shut.

Not everyone is pushed inside in the end. In the Acolytes' rush to contain the Summoned, a few Abraxan natives are left outside the doors with the remaining Acolytes. When you hear their cries through the sealed barrier, you have to ask yourself if you're truly the lucky ones.

◎ The Altar Room

The altar is built of bone. The husks of now-empty bodies are piled into a macabre amalgamation. It's not meant to house anyone for long. Supplies are limited. Water trickles into a small pond used for the Acolytes' rituals. There are bowls of hardened bread. Sealed crates contain more mushrooms. They're edible, but some might carry psychedelic side effects. If you've succumbed to the ritual, though, you might not consider that a downside.

While not as open or large as the cavern you came from, you can explore the altar room for any potential answers to where you are and how to escape. The entrance is sealed tight. Outside, you can hear the Acolytes - and that might be important for later.

Since the door is magically sealed, nothing can come in or out...except the Bone Serpent, whose legs continue to slink down from above to snatch unsuspecting victims. Blood drips from above, possibly from one of its missing legs.

Now and then, something bangs on the door. Is it the creatures you unleashed before? The beasts that were never contained? You can try to follow the Bone Serpent to see where it leads or maybe even glimpse the creature beyond its thorny limbs, but that's a high risk. The consequences could be dire.

◎ Slow Flood

The destruction seems to have broken what prevented you from using the Network. You can now communicate with the Spared and the Escape Group uninterruped.

Unfortunately, the chaos has also dislodged the structure of the entire cavern. Husks of limbs crumble to the floor. The ground grows moist. Bit by bit, water begins to collect in small puddles. More drips through cracks in the walls and ceilings. The rocky floors offer higher ground, but that'll only last for so long.

As slow as it is, there's no denying the dread that washes over you: the cavern is flooding, and it's seeping through into the altar room. Some of the captured natives look uneasy. Others are too injured to help themselves. You can try to plug the leaks. Though the idea might strike you as morbid, the bodies of the dead can be used to keep some of the water at bay.

◎ Temporary Relief

Wounds caused by the ritual don't seem to recover properly. Your mind could remain confused or disturbed. Even those who were successfully cured will discover the lesions heal much slower than other injuries.

As the days wear on, you might feel a strong pull from the Singularity that leads you into the Horizon. This is especially so if you remain under the ritual's influence. If you give in to the urge and manage to find a safe moment to enter, you can go inside without as much difficulty as before.

You won't land where you intend, but you might find one of the Spared within nonetheless if you wander through. Somehow, the Singularity has brought you together. Something compels you to reach out and make contact. When you do, you'll feel a gentle warmth. You might not know what's happening, exactly, but it feels right.

When you depart from the Horizon, effects from the ritual have lessened by a noticeable degree. They'll stay that way for the next day or so, giving you the strength to keep going.

Coordination | The Spared

You might have compromised a few morals to get what you want - if you had any in the first place - but regardless of how you got here, you and the other Summoned have gathered enough information to proceed. Of course, there are still a few details to iron out. How will you approach the island without compromising the Lost? What spells and resources are required? What needs to be done so that survivors have a safe place to rest and recover once they're home? And what about the ritual inflicted upon them?

Players are encouraged to organize teams, rescue efforts, and tactics with each other. The details outlined below are to provide a starting point and some guidance but are by no means the only options available.

Nocwich

Thanks to a request by one of the Summoned in the Free Cities, Nocwich's doors are opened as a neutral meeting ground for the Spared from all three major nations. Some officials will also be arriving to monitor the situation.

◎ Ritual Details (Sten) | Interact

Sten, one of the Nocwich ambassadors for the Lunae, received a request to help find a cure for the ritual. To do so, he wants to first learn as much about the ritual as he can. Anyone with information can come forward either in person or with a note - anonymous or not. While he'd prefer to put a name to the face, Nocwich won't interfere with the Summoned's desire to protect themselves and their secrets.

Sten will be available in Oleuni Square, in one of the many tents. Pale-haired and scarred, he's warm and friendly to everyone. Due to Luna's connection to Solvunn, he has some knowledge of High Magic, although the traditions of the werewolves are different. While he can't hold long meetings, he'll make time to see everyone who has something important to tell him about the ritual - and if you need a little extra reassurance, he'll offer that, too.

◎ Oleuni Square

Normally a thriving marketplace, Oleuni Square has been repurposed. In the northeastern corner, a collection of tents have been set up. Most are utilitarian but others are covered with homemade blankets to help cover imperfections. The Lunae have come to lend their aid. Volunteers help set up tables and supplies. Others guard the area and the portals. A communal cooking area is available to provide hot meals.

You can make use of the tents for talking strategy, organizing supplies, and other meetings. Nearby inns are available for sleeping free of charge, although one of the inns is closed so that it can be converted into a temporary infirmary. Faction officials and employees are available, as well. You can consult them on tactical advice, resources, and the lay of the land.

Early in Week 3, a few representatives from Ikorr arrive with a supply of their sacred sap. With the sap and the metal ore from the Lunae, you can fashion supplies and potions from raw materials.

The mood around the makeshift camp is somber but hopeful. As one of the Summoned, you'll have control of the situation and can work with a variety of officials and locals to arrange what you need.

Reevaluating Plans

Shortly into Week 3, you'll receive word that some of the Lost have escaped. As details come in bits and pieces, you realize the situation's taken a dramatic turn. More than that, messages from the Lost are no longer disrupted as before. You can read the words clearly again.

Who makes contact first and how the news spreads depends on you. Regardless of how it comes about, your focus can't be solely on breaching the discovered island. Now you also have another group to retrieve - and you don't know where they are, though they at least have some helpful information: the Singularity, the snowy mountains, and a view of the ocean.

Take advantage of the Network's return to reevaluate your plans. You'll need to determine the situation in the island cave as well as the mountains, split into teams, and bring everyone home.

Assigning Roles

Under the circumstances, officials will recommend the Summoned divide into at least two groups: one to search the mountains and one to retrieve the Lost remaining on the island. If you're not the type to rush to the front lines, you can also stay back and help out at home. There's plenty to do here between finding a cure, delegating tasks, and preparing for survivors to return.

◎ Search Team

Reports from the Escape Group tell of snow-capped mountains, Acolytes in pursuit, and other creatures that lurk. Many are injured, though fortunately, abilities have started to return. The area isn't guarded, but the terrain is difficult and temperatures are harsh. Officials will suggest using portals to arrive at the nearest safe point on the mountains before traveling on foot to find the Lost. Others can choose to hunt down the Acolytes who are chasing their friends. Anyone with strong tracking skills would be key, but the team could also use medical assistance in case anyone needs treatment on the spot.

◎ Retrieval Team

Word has it that some of the Acolytes remain on the island along with the trapped captives. The area is tightly guarded and possibly infested with some unknown creatures or those not in their right minds. Officials will suggest negotiating to prevent unwanted casualties but will caution that having a team for infiltration and force is necessary, too. Some distraction could also be helpful, and it would be wise to have some medical assistance in case anyone needs treatment on the spot.

◎ Home Team

Having hands on deck at base is equally vital. Officials will recommend a cure for the ritual be found while the teams are out searching, and standard healing supplies will need preparation, too. Outbound teams could use someone to help bring together lines of communication, updating officials and the Summoned alike about what's going on. And of course, with the Horizon as a place of respite, anyone who can go in to help the Lost seeking healing would be of value.

Week 4

The days have been taxing, but you're beginning to feel a change in the air. Now that resources and information have been pooled, things are moving quickly. Soon, you'll be reunited.

Once you find one another, you'll still need to return home safely - but at least you'll have each other now.

Although players have been divided up until now between Lost and Spared, Week 4 will bring the Spared in contact with the Lost's environments. We'll provide relevant information or redirect each group accordingly so that you don't need to review the entire post for the correct details. If there's anything you're uncertain about from the other group, please ask!

Survival | The Lost

CW: Disturbing imagery (text and imagery), mild gore, body horror, dark and horror-based themes

By now, you've undoubtedly heard from the Spared back home. You're relieved to know rescue is coming, but you probably don't want to sit and wait. With threats to contend with and a dangerous environment, you can take steps to be sure the Spared have help from the other side.

Escape Group

Surviving the elements is only half of it. As the days turn to nights, you realize you're not alone. More than wolves and bears prowl. Something sinister comes...as well as the Acolytes who want their captives back at all cost.

◎ Pursuing Acolytes | Interact

Loyal to the cause, some Acolytes chase the fleeing Lost into the mountains. You might be lulled into safety the first few days, but by Week 4, you sense their presence. The evergreen trees wither, winter shrubs rot, and unexplained husks of wildlife are found. The winds carry a stench in the air that you now identify with the fungal cavern you were held in.

They hunt in pairs or small groups. Their powers seem weaker for reasons unknown, but they remain formidable opponents. You can run, protect others, or go on the offensive.

◎ Hydnellia & Esmond | Interact

If they successfully escape in Week 3, the Mysterious Acolyte and the Unknown Stranger will travel with their rescuers. They'll introduce themselves as Hydnellia & Esmond. Though nervous, Hydnellia is more trusting of anyone who helped them. She's skilled in healing and foraging, while Esmond carries a draught for warmth that could prove useful. Depending on where you stand, you could find their addition helpful or contentious.

◎ Revenant | Interact

Something else stalks the night, scaring even the Acolytes. A hoarfrost revenant has lived on these peaks for centuries. With the sudden arrival of the Lost and Acolytes, he prowls the snow, searching for who's disturbed his sleep.

He cannot be killed. You can only run or chase him away, but he'll soon return. Take care not to stay in one place too long. A rattling chain and blue-flamed lantern announces his coming. His touch brings instant death, made clear by the frozen carcasses of animals left in his path. Best not to fight him.

◎ Rescue

Landmarks such as lakes, cliffs, the Singularity, and more can be used to direct the Search Team to your location.

You might want to warn the Spared about the dangers they'll face when they reach the mountains. Unable to portal to you directly, they'll reach you on foot. You'll need to brave the dangers together one last time to reach the waiting portals below. The trek isn't far, but making that final stretch might feel like an eternity. In the distance, the ground trembles, and the snow begins to form an avalanche.

Players can arrange how the Search Team and the Escape Group meet and decide what threats they'll encounter as they return to the portal.

Details on the avalanche and what characters will face when traveling to the portal will be provided under the Search & Rescue - Search Team section.

Holdout Group

As you huddle in the altar room, you can only hope your sacrifice, intentional or not, was worth it. At least you've been able to communicate with the outside world. The Acolytes are beginning to show signs of unease and budding dissent. At some point, you have to ask, why haven't the unhappy ones left or fled themselves?

Maybe you aren't the only ones trapped anymore. Maybe you're all trapped together now.

◎ The Altar | Interact

Now that you can approach the altar and examine it closely, you see the terrible remnants of twisted figures sunken into the ground beneath it, as though they've fused with the altar itself.

If prodding at the shrines worked, perhaps doing the same with the altar will reveal some answers. A strange energy emanates from its open maw when those afflicted by the ritual come near.

◎ A Promise | Interact

In the final hour, some Acolytes desperately try to resume the rituals on the few remaining Abraxan natives left outside the altar room - many in poor condition. You hear it, though you can only glimpse it through a gap in the sealed doors. Their bodies quickly succumb and sprout more fungal growths while long, spine-like tendrils protrude from their orifices.

You can plead with them to stop, or you can join them in hopes that you will find your divine emancipation. The Acolytes will release anyone who wants to join the ritual from the altar room...but what you step into could carry horrific consequences.

◎ Dissenting Acolytes | Interact

More arguments beyond the sealed doors erupt as water fills the cave and altar room. They accuse each other of being faithless or too blindly loyal. Some say Hydnellia betrayed them. Others say the High Priestess did, perhaps referring to Josselyn.

Toward the middle of Week 4, it grows quiet outside. The arguments stop. One Acolyte approaches the door. She promises to free you and the others and help you find a way out of the cavern together, including overwhelming Josselyn's faithful.

This could be what turns the tide, but things might also go very wrong. You and the others trapped with you must decide if you'll accept the olive branch. Of course, agreeing to trust them doesn't mean you have to follow through. The Acolytes sound desperate and might be a bit too trusting themselves.

◎ Rescue

Unlike the Escape Group, the Spared know where the Holdout Group is. Getting to them will take effort, but you can help by providing information from the inside. After all, the Acolytes won't know when you're using the network. You can even coordinate with each other in secret despite being in the same room.

You might want to warn the Spared about the dangers they face when they reach the cavern areas. The Bone Serpent could pose a problem, along with any crumbling walls and obstacles. A creature might still be trapped in one of the tunnels if no one freed it. As the team approaches, severe quakes shake the entire place. Water flows in faster. It appears ready to collapse at any moment.

You'll need to get off the island to reach the portal on the Thornean peninsula. That'll pose a problem when the boats break from the collapsing island, but an unexpected friend might arrive.

Details on the quake and what characters face when getting off the island will be provided under the Search & Rescue - Retrieval Team section.

Search & Rescue | The Spared

CW: Disturbing imagery (text and visual), dark themes.

After an exhausting month, it finally seems as though things are coming together. By now, you've made decided on your plans, gathered your resources, and chosen the role that suits you best. Not everyone may agree with what you're doing, or maybe there's someone you don't agree with. Nevertheless, your friends are waiting, and you'll push forward with or without support.

Search Team

As part of the Search Team, your goal is to portal from Nocwich to the mountains and locate members of the Escape Group.

You'll need to determine the best place to portal in - close enough to the Lost that the trek is reasonable but safe enough that the portals won't be at risk. Considering the terrain and the condition of many of the Lost, it's likely the distance will be about one day's travel on foot.

◎ Resources & Support

Thorne will send their military for support since their soldiers are used to winter conditions, unlike the Free Cities. The Free Cities will provide portal stones so that mages won't be required to maintain an open portal. The Lunae will offer guides to help navigate the wilderness.

Solvunn's aid is limited to healing supplies, as their efforts are focused on the island due to the heavy use of High Magic there.

You are not limited to only what the factions offer upfront. If there's more you think they can do, you can make a request.

◎ The Acolytes (Escape) | Interact

Though rescuing the Lost is the top priority, you might feel justice or vengeance is long overdue. Some Acolytes are pursuing the captives while others might try to pass as one of the survivors. Those most faithful to the cause will attack you, but not all of them are that steadfast. Some prefer to flee. Others still may surrender, under the right circumstances.

Officials have requested that the Acolytes be brought in alive if possible, but no one will be counting the bodies if you decide to take out a few on your own.

Players can write out attacking, capturing, or killing the Acolytes without using the interaction. However, if you want to take a more specific action in terms of identifying any Acolytes pretending to pass as one of the captured Abraxan natives, negotiating a surrender, or interrogating them on the spot, you can submit an interaction.

◎ Getting to Safety

During the search, you'll encounter the same dangers the Escape Group has faced over the past week. Common predators include wolves, gryphons, and wild boars. Most significantly, a revenant must be avoided or else death is certain. Detailed under the Survival - Escape Group section, the revenant can be interacted with by the Spared once on the mountains.

Keep your friends safe after you meet up with them. You'll have to guide them back to the portals and make sure they can keep up with their injuries. Though you hope the journey is smooth, you know better.

And sure enough, a rumble draws your attention. When you look up, you see it coming down: an avalanche pouring down one of the mountain slopes. Get out of the way quickly or risk being swept up in the landslide. If you're lucky enough to dodge the avalanche, you can help anyone caught in its path.

Retrieval Team

As part of the Retrieval Team, your goal is to infiltrate the island and safely retrieve the members of the Holdout Group. A portal from Nocwich can only take you as far as the peninsula on Thorne's coast, near the island. The rest is on you.

Your team's likely already decided the best method to breach the island and you may have done your best to account for every last detail, but that doesn't mean everything will go as planned. The flooding hasn't stopped. Frequent, violent quakes are now shaking the island, and the structure beneath is rapidly crumbling. Time is of the essence.

◎ Resources & Support

Thorne mages and Solvunn Elders will accompany your team to focus on dispelling the enchantments, while the Free Cities will send some of its soldiers. They'll also provide boats powered with New Magic. Though normally quite noisy, Thorne has stepped in to enchant them to be much more discreet.

You are not limited to only what the factions offer upfront. If there's more you think they can do, you can make a request.

◎ Dispelling Protections | Interact

The illusions that once held the island together are corrupted from the escape. Navigating the constantly shifting landscape is dizzying and confusing. You might experience strange visions brought on by your imagination - terrifying images from home you know shouldn't be there.

Fight through it to find a warded tunnel. You'll need to find a way to break the wards to enter. Should you feel the urge to rush in heedlessly, you might want to observe the pile of dead bats and birds all around you. Their bodies are mangled and crushed. You can only imagine what might happen to you.

◎ The Collapse

Whether you make contact with the Acolytes or the Holdout Group first depends on your approach. You can apprehend what Acolytes you can, negotiate their surrender, or kill them. Whichever tactics you use, once the Holdout Group is released from the altar room, you'll end up in the same situation: the way out is blocked from falling debris. Seawater rapidly fills the cavern.

Your best bet is to follow the water flow into the open ocean. As you do, the cavern begins to collapse in on itself in a swirling whirlpool as the magic which kept the water at bay falters. You'll have to struggle to swim against the current, and a few Acolytes are sucked into the vortex. The boats splinter and break apart, leaving you and many wounded stranded in the ocean.

◎ An Old Friend

Deep waters aren't safe. When a deep rumbling sounds and a massive shadow looms below, you might wonder if this is the end. Instead, the shadow takes on a warm moon-like glow. A familiar figure to some of you from Thorne surfaces. The giant sea turtle waits calmly for you to climb on its shell. You can save any captured Acolytes, or you can let the sea swallow them.

How did the turtle find you? If you have strong psychic abilities or an affinity for communicating with animals, you might sense a connection to a much smaller turtle: Admiral Chuck from The Arcanis. Perhaps a friend is looking out for you from afar after you were kind enough to spend time with him.

The moonlit turtle will carry everyone to shore, where the portal to Nocwich awaits. Then it vanishes into the depths once more.

Home Team

As part of the Home Team, your goal is to support the others and prepare for the return of many survivors.

Two important tasks are healing in the Horizon to aid any of the Lost who are struggling, and finding a cure for the effects of the ritual. You can also assign tasks, transform the inn into an infirmary, and make sure supplies are available.

◎ Ritual Cure | Interact

The answer to a cure is likely found in the contents of Josselyn's house, the mushroom rings, and the odd black substance painted around the abduction sites. Solvunn's Elders and the Lunae, including Sten, will be there to help and provide any information they can.

If you're not the experimental type, you can still help in one of two ways: you can go to Ikorr to retrieve a bloom from their sacred flower located in the Nightbloom or you can go to Luna to collect moon-blessed water from the Lunar Pond. You'll be accompanied through a direct portal by the vampires to Ikorr or the werewolves to Luna.

Researchers and mages from the major nations will also work on the task using the information they've learned - but they'd be grateful for any assistance.

◎ Horizon Healing

As discovered in Week 3, you can continue to use the Horizon to offer to heal those who need it. In moments of calm, anyone connected to the Singularity will feel a familiar pull. The urge to enter the Horizon itches at the back of your mind as the hours go by, even if you're not usually inclined to do so.

If you give in, you could find one of the Lost there. You sense they need your help, or you feel compelled to reach out and touch. A warmth flows between you. Though you may not realize what you've done until afterwards, you'll know it's something unique and powerful.

Forging a stronger link to the Horizon can subtly strengthen the gifts and magic you receive from the Singularity - and a deep healing connection with another Summoned is a part of that.

Return

For the next week or so, Nocwich is the place of refuge. Concerned that the ritual and other unknown effects may have a widespread impact, everyone must remain in Nocwich. This includes the abducted Abraxan natives, the soldiers, mages, and Elders who arrived to help.

Captured Acolytes will be held in the prisons in Nocwich. Their fate is yet to be determined.

Should the Mysterious Acolyte and her brother make it to safety, they'll also be held in Nocwich for now. Nocwich will recognize that they were rescued by some of you, however, and will make sure they're placed in a comfortable - but still guarded - home.

Recovery & Cures

The Square's largest inn serves as a temporary infirmary. The Lost will be brought here to recover and receive the cure for the ritual. Any of the Spared who were injured during the rescue will also be treated.

Healing & Care

Although a few healers and doctors from the factions are in Nocwich, most have stayed home to prepare for when the Summoned and their citizens return. Instead, healers from Luna and Ikorr will look after you with a combination of salves, healing magic, and potions. Ikorr's powerful sap is used in healing concoctions, reserved for the most severe injuries. Overdoing it can cause unwanted side effects, so healers are careful.

If you're lucky, you can get a room to yourself. If not, you might have a roommate. The infirmary is hectic, though you'll receive the best care possible. Visitors are allowed. Nurses caution against overtaxing yourself, but you can finally reunite with everyone you've been separated from over the past four weeks.

Receiving the Cure

After such a harrowing ordeal, you'll be relieved to learn that the cure is effective and painless. It consists of a spoonful of a thick mixture. The aftertaste is bitter and a little sour but not terrible. After a day or two, the psychological effects will fade completely. Physical afflictions will begin to heal again.

If any growths remain, they must be removed. Thankfully, potent sleeping draughts means you won't feel a thing - a blessing that those who sought a cure in the caverns didn't have.

Returning Home

After a week, officials determine that the ritual effects are cured and request that you return home. Their doctors and healers will look after you once you're back. Eventually, they'd like to know the details, but you won't need to talk about it just yet.

◎ Thorne

Your return to Thorne is greeted with a show of fanfare. For many, the castle staff has grown familiar with your presence. They're heartened to see you return. A few may have get-well gifts if they've come to know you.

If you still require significant healing, you'll be taken care of in the Castle's infirmary. Otherwise, you'll be assigned a healer who'll check in on you in your room.

◎ Free Cities

Your return to Cadens is greeted with a buzz in the air. With a city so populated, reactions vary from relief to curiosity to a much less welcome invasion of privacy from local writers. City guards will do their best to make sure you return home or arrive at the hospital with minimal fuss.

If you were injured, doctors will insist you remain overnight at the hospital. If you were severely wounded and remain so, they won't clear you for release until you're fully recovered. Of course, no one can stop you from leaving, but you may want to listen to the doctors.

◎ Solvunn

Your return to Solvunn is greeted with a somber air. Many in the settlement are in the midst of prayer, having devoted themselves to seeking your safe return. Your friends and neighbors are relieved to see you, but they're troubled by the perversion of their traditions, the close involvement of one of their Council members, and the terrible suffering you endured.

Healers and Elders will see you in your home as needed. Offerings will be made to shrines on your behalf, and you won't run out of home-cooked meals for a while. Many will lend a sympathetic ear if you want someone to talk to.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ The mention of it sounding suspiciously like one of Sylvain's lines gets him to crack a wider smile, because it does. Claude doesn't really have a comeback to that teasing accusation either when being able to be here needling her patience yet again is something he's still marveling over. It's been far too long, and though most of his aches are purely physical this is a constant one running deeper that's now being soothed again. Because unlike those separations before, there weren't even letters to pen back and forth with their one source of communication here frayed. Or so he hopes that's all it was, but he's determined to not let that seep into the here and now.

He opens his mouth to say something else he's still figuring out, but then Hilda leans down and curiosity has him propping himself up on an elbow to try to follow her motion. The answer's clear enough both from the kit in her hands he doesn't immediately recognize but what Hilda says next clarifies everything. It's too difficult to resist a grin of his own in response to hers, so Claude doesn't even try. ]

A manicure might be a crucial part of being in Nocwich, you know. That first weekend it was open I went and got one for the experience, and all I could think about the whole time was how much you would've enjoyed it. [ When he starts that thought, Claude means to joke about how obviously this will make it a habit, but then the rest of it just goes right ahead and slips out of his mouth. Hm. ] You would've been proud, but probably not about the part where I let the paint flake all off.

[ This is - not what he meant to talk about. He should probably let Hilda get on with the tools in her hands, maybe start by letting go of her hand still in his to make that happen. But when his gaze flickers up to her face from where it'd dropped in what's supposed to be a glance, instead Claude studies her for a few seconds. No, the manicure can wait if she'll let it and he squeezes her hand in his lightly. ]

Hey. When's the last time you got some rest?

[ It's not the biggest bed the inn likely has but this one's still more than enough to fit two people in it. Some part of it is a selfish ask on his part, he knows, because he also wants her closer even with worry she hasn't taken a break for who knows how long taking precedence here, because when would she have had the time? The answer to that is a while ago if he had to guess; all the more reason he shifts back to create more space next to him. ]

I know it's not much, but I do have this very nice bed I can offer. I promise that my cuticles will still, in fact, be tragic in a little while from now.

[ There's a little intake of breath as Claude recounts his first manicure in Nocwich followed by a pang of something in her heart. A number of different emotions surface as he prattles on: shame that she had silently accused him of forgetting her, bashfulness, and something else warm at the thought of Claude associating nail care with her at all. That something tugs at her lips and there's a sparkle of something else in her gaze. Even though she had been smiling moments before, she immediately tries to stifle it, as if she's supremely unimpressed with his embarrassing admission.

The little kit is left behind momentarily on the bed as she makes a motion to lean across him as if reaching for the clipboard on the bedside table. ]

Where's your chart? I'll have to tell your doctor that even though you sound like Sylvain, and your memory still seems mostly in tact, your decision making skills need to be checked again before they let you out.

[ The hand squeeze coupled with his question gives her pause and she's now partially seated on the edge of the bed staring at him like he's asked or said something far more absurd. Claude's not so subtle request is there between the lines of what's actually being said: he's worried about her.

There's nothing Hilda loves more than being fussed over. And before the last four weeks had happened, Hilda probably would have scooted right next to him, slotting into the spot she knows she fits perfectly into without any further prompting. But it feels like something has shifted between then and now, or rather, something has shifted in her. The question, instead of bringing its usual roll of pleasure and, 'Well if you insist,' response, brings about a prickle of anxiety. The worst part is that she has no idea why.

Realizing she's been staring a touch too long she shakes herself back to reality, letting out a soft hum of thought. ]

I slept the other day. [ A lie. She'd woken up in a cold sweat beside Petra's bed, images of her getting buried by the snow flashing through her mind. But much like the pull to the Horizon earlier, there's a pull here, as if the prospect of a bed is what's really the draw here and not the person in it. Hesitation stretches across her body, but dispelling it won't take much effort on Claude's part. ] I don't want to jostle anything. Your wounds are still healing.

Edited (imagine checking for typos) 2023-03-22 01:04 (UTC)

[ Even if it wasn't what he meant to say, that the manicure anecdote gets a smile from her feels like a triumph all in itself. More than it probably should, and he's not fooled by Hilda sweeping it away seconds later. Another part of their game since he'll have to try harder than that when this attempt is dismissed by her reach across the bed. There'll be some other retort from her now, he assumes, but instead what he gets is resounding quiet.

They stare at each other and Claude feels the smile on his face lock into place when it stretches on longer than he'd expected. It feels like all the times he'd forgotten about the loose step in the dormitory staircase running between their rooms no matter how many times he stepped on it. Stumbling over it each time when he least expected it while racing up or down them meant the momentary shift in gravity would throw his balance off until he recovered. Here's that same sensation again while he waits to find whether his metaphorical foot step will land this time on something solid or not.

It doesn't take Hilda nearly as long to answer as he thinks it does, he's sure. At her answer about sleeping he arches one eyebrow, and at what follows he raises the other one. One would have been strange, but both of those together? It feels like she's stalling and that in and of itself is confusing. An echo of before, when in Aquila she'd hesitated to ask him the same thing he's asking now. Hilda gets points for being more direct about it, naturally, but the sentiment is still there in what he'd said - or so he thought it was.

Claude contemplates this and looks at Hilda with an expression even as ever despite hidden uncertainty crackling away beneath it while reaching for what to say next. An unintentional mirroring of the same inspection she'd given him mere moments ago, though it doesn't last long either before he reclines back on his pillow in apparent ease. Might as well get some obedient patient points in to help out his case. ]

Uh huh. And to quote you when I used to tell you the same thing: how many days ago was 'the other day'? [ His tone is right back to being light even if joking isn't the solution here, but. It's never stopped him before and it would be far stranger if he didn't still use that as a tactic now. That's what he's going with, anyway. ] I'm still tougher than I look, not that being in this bed is doing me any favors there. Even if you kick me while you sleep like you usually do I think I'd still rather you laid down here with me.

[ She doesn't kick as far as he's aware, but he's going to pull out that list of bed sharing grievances again in hopes she'll smile, or swat him, or both. Both plus crawling into the space made for her would be preferable. ]

[ Claude leans back against his pillows before Hilda can really contemplate what the stare he's giving her actually means. There's so much of him that she's poured over, both physically and mentally, that if she had put as much effort as she had into understanding the enigma that had been Claude von Riegan as she did with her school work, she would have been much as a prodigy as Holst had been. School work was never going to prove as interesting as him though. Few things would.

While it had taken time to unravel and artfully dodge the walls and masks Claude put up, it all felt effortless at the same time. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he been dancing the same steps as her in tandem. Maybe on some weird cosmic level, they balanced the other out, and fit together in a way she couldn't have predicted when she set out to flirt with the mysterious but gorgeous heir. Perhaps it had only been a matter of time before they fell into step beside one another like they had been doing it from the day they had been born.

All of that is to say that when she's confronted with this look that doesn't appear in her Claude lexicon, she can't put a finger on how she feels about it. Her younger self wants to dig in, read the next page, see if there's anything else she's missed, while her older self — her current self — feels a tremor of uncertainty in what she's been convinced is an unshakeable bond.

Claude's teasing once again has its desired effect however as her mouth drops open in an offended expression that could rival Lorenz's. She swats out harmlessly into the air in front of his face as she splutters out a hiss of protest that's more joking than fiery. ]

You can't say these kinds of things out loud, Claude — I don't kick in my I sleep! [ She has been known to flail though, and has absolutely caught him in the chin on more than one occasion. A pout forms on her face but a beat later she gives him a relenting huff, moving to tug her boots off before crawling into his side and the comforting pull of his warmth. ]

Ugh, just don't complain if I jostle anything, okay? And if it starts getting sore, you have to tell me.

Does it become true if I say it out loud? In that case, maybe I should be apologizing to my shins now in advance.

[ He's not serious, but he also won't say no to another way to harmlessly rile her up and probably earn an actual swat now that he's clarified it'll still be difficult to harm him. As Hilda takes off her boots Claude stretches an arm out next to him on the bed in the space soon to be hers, ready to wrap it around her shoulders as soon as she crawls in next to him. That's just what he does while trying to avoid a sigh of both comfort when she snuggles up to his side and offers just as much warmth and relief he hadn't had to continue wheedling with who knows what else. In reality, it's more like exhaling said sigh as inaudibly as possible since it's still very much there. ]

Sounds a lot like I'm going to in trouble if I move around at all. Maybe I'll just work on my best impression of being asleep to keep you here.

[ To some extent he means that, if only because despite being difficult as always Claude really doesn't want her to go anywhere now that she's here. Maybe this is where he should say something to that extent, to make it clear this is better medicine than being prodded with who knows what that he's certain is in his future. Instead, like a fool, he keeps his mouth shut.

Except - he does need to shift a little bit since there's a bandage pulling somewhere that's not painful but not something he can ignore either. With his arm still braced around her Claude shifts enough to lie back more and that does cause an injury to start smarting. He's still not going to complain, but then his Crest has to go and activate anyway and he freezes mid-motion. That he holds his breath is less out of pain than apprehension, but nothing happens this time except the feeling of something somewhere healing when he relaxes. ]

Huh. Guess my Crest is back to behaving itself after all. [ Said half to himself and before Claude really notices he said it aloud and without any context for Hilda's benefit. Though - once he realizes it, some of those details are ones he'd rather spare her, so best to carry on with a prior topic. ] I'll take it because that'll really help me out when you start kicking later.

[ Letting her go's not in his plans any time soon, false threats or not, since while speaking Claude's already wrapping his other arm around her waist. The same goes for letting his fingers draw abstract patterns against her arm, yet another piece of the puzzle of being whole again he'd dearly missed. But does he say this aloud either? He certainly doesn't. ]

[ The usual go-to reaction to Claude being awful is usually some sort of physical one, which can include but is not limited to a small pinch, discrete pinch, a well aimed prod to the side, a swat, and when it's really warranted, a punch. Fortunately, she has more self-restraint than that and is unlikely to forget the wounds that she helped dress any time soon.

Unfortunately for Claude, thanks to the new pit beard he's grown she has something else to use to her advantage instead. Her free hand reaches up to give his beard a gentle but firm tug. ]

I think your shins are the least of your worries. If you keep being mean, the minute you fall asleep I'm leaving to go check on someone else.

[ They both know that isn't true. Hilda's annoyance doesn't linger, worn away by the warmth and familiarity that Claude's body provides. No matter how she feels on the inside, her body always manages to betray her, tension and worry slowly beginning to melt like they were nothing more than a fleeting nightmare. She'd love, she thinks faintly, if that were really the case. A younger version of herself would have happily compartmentalized it away, easily pretending whatever had happened to them away because what mattered was the present and being with him here. She knows that isn't possible, not really. But she wants to let that be the case for now.

She can't though because Claude freezes and Hilda's eyes fly to him, lifting whatever little weight she had leaned against him. She waits for a hiss of pain, anything to signal a further pain, and when nothing comes except a quip, Hilda's eyes narrow slightly. All in a day's life of being by Claude's side, she thinks wearily. Before she can question him she's being pulled into his side again, the patterns he's drawing on her arm soothing her.

Gingerly she lays her arms across his chest, her chin finding the spot where it's meant to fit immediately falling into old habits. ]

What do you mean behaving?

[ She ignores the comment about her alleged kicking, her voice curious and light while it hides her concern and the slight hint of warning that he better tell her the truth. When he withholds things from her she can tell, like a thin layer of condensation on a window. ]

You'd abandon me just like that? That is the meanest thing you've ever said to me by far.

[ If only the tone of his voice agreed rather than having a grin buried in it (or not even all that buried, honestly), but that'll have to do for not being able to heave a dramatic sigh without dislodging them both from a rather comfortable position. Also, that he's rather secure in the fact she isn't going to leave without saying so first helps, but Claude's also going to immediately give an indignant noise all for show as she tugs on his beard. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing to trim it a bit before he gives her more ways to hang onto his face than she already has.

A problem for later, like when he can get out of bed or perhaps master sitting up without becoming dizzy first since that's probably in his near future. Right now he's not intent on moving either except to lean his chin against the side of her head once they're settled again. For good, hopefully, and it helps to know at least his Crest won't cause something worse to happen. The rest of it is all something he can deal with since he's no stranger to aches and pains, whatever else to conceal away to keep her from worrying.

If only it were that simple. He should know better - should have remembered Hilda knows how to read him best of all. That all those injuries probably never were that hidden to her eyes but an illusion he liked to believe, as proven by what she asks. Claude knows that tone well. It works both ways: he knows to listen for what others would overlook and what's concealed beneath that relaxed tone. He might laugh, too pleased this hasn't changed despite everything else that's happened, if it wasn't for the fact he's not going to comply with what's being asked with no words. Not fully. ]

Behaving as in working as it should. Like it always has. [ Here's something else said as carefree as Claude can make it as he winds strands of pink hair around his closest fingers to let it ripple through them, doing so slowly like that won't give away something regardless. ] Better late than never, I suppose. I'll take it if it means less scars since I think I already had more than enough.

[ That'll only get him so far so with a light tug of her hair in his grasp he adds, ] Thought you were supposed to be getting some rest.

[ In-between the beard tugging and the making of a threat that she has no real intention of following up on, Hilda's already decided that the beard suits him and that she'll convince him to keep it for a little while. Claude feels like an easier sell than Sylvain who's already on the verge of shearing it off his face and if she offers to do some of the upkeep? He'd probably be bought in hook, line and sinker. It isn't entirely for unselfish reasons — the beard provides an excellent means of deterrence to some of his antics, like right now.

Before she can go down the path of wondering if it's overstepping lines they should no longer be crossing he sidesteps the answer, just like she suspects he would. She makes a noise that clearly translates into skepticism. Spotty conversation with various people in the pit (which Claude had been noticeably absent from, but she doesn't want to dwell on what that could mean because it unearths hurt that she doesn't care to associate with him) and their subsequent visit in the Horizon, had been enough for Hilda to draw conclusions. Conclusions like any magic might not have worked down there, and that even with what little energy they had, there was no way that anyone down there would have let anyone else suffer if they could prevent it.

She wouldn't pretend to know the first thing about Crests apart from the general knowledge she's passively absorbed from Hanneman's lecturing and having grown up with one. But the next conclusion she comes to is that whatever rituals had been performed on them might also have affected how Claude and Sylvain's crests worked too. For a moment Hilda weighs the options, wondering if she should pursue it, try to make the picture clearer by confirming her suspicions. She has the bet, she realizes, but she stalls, realizing that pulling a card like that seems disingenuous. Dissenting, unhelpful voices join the debate, telling her that if it were Sylvain or Petra he would just tell them so the outlying factor has to be her. She's quick to bury the hurt again, shoving it further into the ground. This behaviour from him isn't new. She knows in her heart of hearts that he simply doesn't want to cause anymore worry to her than has already been dealt. ]

This is rest. [ Not really, but her eyes have fluttered closed, grateful for the gentle, steady beat of his heart. There's a huff in her voice, but there's some level of amusement there in an attempt to mask her other feelings. ] What happened to not wanting your shins kicked? The sooner I fall asleep the sooner I start kicking.

[ What she doesn't want to voice is the unbased fear that she'll wake with him gone or in a worse state. ]

[ The answer he's offered is one meant to buy time more than anything else in Claude's mind before he has to summon something better forth. There's no way that Hilda won't ask at some point when they had no chances to speak until right now, and the loss of which he'd felt like a different kind of ache from everything else. Now he just needs to find how to not unload even more terrible things upon her that his injuries already hint at as is when he doesn't know what she's seen. Surely there'll be something to follow that up like when he'd tried to hide something from this battle or that before ending up pulled along to the infirmary. This doesn't compare to that and he doesn't know where to start.

To his slight surprise, Hilda accepts it (kind of) with a noise he hears as meaning this conversation isn't over yet even though she doesn't press him on it any further. Claude's not going to call attention to it either in favor of letting go the strands he has in his grasp to fully comb his fingers through the ends of her hair instead. In apology, maybe, for putting up yet another wall he's not ready to let down with all the others.

When she says it's rest he chuckles as much as he can without jostling her too much out of where she's comfortable, something familiar from all the other times they'd curled up just like this over the years. Including all the nights they'd been overly tired from the events of the day; that's where he's guessing Hilda's at right now from so much going on and for so long. It's not unlike a war campaign - except they weren't together for it. This burden he couldn't help her carry like so many others they'd both had.

Even now, Claude had the benefit of being knocked out by an extremely strong potion to get sleep he wouldn't have otherwise with too many images ready to play through his mind at any given second. Maybe the missing piece is to pretend like this is some variety of normal to convince her to rest before drowsiness catches up to him again. Not that he'll let it until he's sure she falls asleep first, again like all the times he'd silently kept watch for them both. ]

I could always tell you a bedtime story. [ There's a grin in his voice as he speaks with his cheek still against her hair, shifting his arm around her to pull her a little closer. ] It's been a minute since I regaled you with one of my weird childhood stories as you so fondly called them. Rest assured I have plenty of others still waiting to see the light of day if you only give the word.

[ Even with her eyes closed she can feel Claude's smile in his voice. Disgustingly, sappily, she can't help but think to herself that it feels like the sun. It melts the worry, the doubt, and uncertainty away bit by bit. As she's pulled closer into his side, whatever reservations she has are quieted, giving way to her habit of self-serving comfort. Hilda has never had a problem taking when others are willing to give and maybe, the spoiled part of her thinks, it's okay to do that just for now.

Her arm drapes gently across his bandaged chest, fingers absently mimicking the abstract shapes he had drawn on her arm. There's a gentler quality in the way she goes about it, her touch featherlight as if she's worried about causing him more pain than he's already had to experience. She knows Claude is made of tougher stuff, but the growths and lacerations stay affixed in her mind making him more fragile in body and mind now than any other time she can recall.

Well. Maybe he's had lower moments, in fact, she knows he must have, but she hadn't been there for them. Perhaps, the only reason she knows about this time is because she's been here for it. The knot in her chest tightens, reminding her that it hasn't gone away even with the warmth of Claude's body against her side and the feel of his fingers in her hair. But she doesn't want to think about that right now. Not ever, really if she has a say in it. It's wishful thinking to hope that things will remain the same after this for any of the Summoned taken, but she is a creature of habit, selfish in her childish whims. If she keeps her eyes closed and pretends away the bandages, it's like they're home in Fodlan with Lorenz on the other side of the wall gnashing his teeth about decorum. ]

You know that I'll never say no to a weird Claude von Reigan bedtime story. [ There's a curl of her lips at that as she hums in thought. ] But is it going to be a boring one where I'll actually fall asleep? Or do you want me to pay attention to it? Actually just surprise me.

[ The verbal grin from before becomes an actual one as Hilda says she won't decline the offer. It'll help keep him awake, at any rate, to enjoy her being cuddled into his side - where she belongs, a little voice in the back of his mind says, like it always does - until he's sure she's asleep. Easier to keep running his fingers through her hair, even easier still to pretend like it doesn't snag on bandages every now and then. Claude hums as he thinks over an important decision to be made. ]

What if it's one that's interesting but so drawn out it puts you to sleep anyway? [ He could make that happen, if only because if he wanted to tell the stories the way one of his uncles or Nader might, then there could very well be even more tangents than usual. ] That could be the surprise twist to my storytelling tonight. Let's find out.

[ It's not at all what Hilda means and Claude knows that, and so he studies the ceiling after reaching to cover her hand on his chest with his to draw patterns on the back of it instead while he thinks of which story to choose. Not the one about the white camel - seeing Hilda misty-eyed after he'd woken up was more than enough tears even if they technically hadn't fallen, and the last thing he wants to do is to make her cry.

In the end, it turns out Claude wasn't that far off from his story having tangents but ones that actually weren't intentional; the fable starts out well enough until his still not fully functioning mind catches up with him. Some of the details end up entirely fabricated and with him just grabbing at things to fill in the blanks where he's forgotten the actual details. Eventually it's almost more entertaining to him than trying to remember the story as his father told it, even if it might only be fun for Claude.

By the time it draws mostly to a close, it's difficult to tell where he was going with the story other than the characters named still being the same. And if Hilda's still awake, well - hopefully she was able to follow along. ]

The whole reason I like hearing them is that they're never boring. [ Her eyes open for a brief moment before he begins and she wrinkles her nose, grinning up at him from ear to ear teasingly. ] The minute they start becoming boring is the day I ask you to stop telling me them.

[ Admitting that the stories Claude tells are interesting is only a portion of the truth. Like many things that had been surface level for her at the beginning of their friendship, she had gradually realized that the stories he told, even the nonsensical ones, held small slivers of truth about who he was. What they were truths of she can only speculate but she didn't mind, and frankly didn't care to probe for fear of Claude taking away the trust he had so generously given her.

And there lay another well-concealed truth that she had never told him: his trust was more precious than anything else she owned. It would likely remain that way for as long as they stayed friends. The reality is that she'll never tire of his stories because if he stops telling them, it might mean that something else was wrong. That the trust they had built up was crumbling for some mysterious reason. The thought of losing it is terrifying and more anxiety-inducing than failing to live up to someone's expectations.

But here he is offering, launching into a story that is still just as interesting, just as funny, and just as soothing just like he promised. Once again she tells herself that whatever it is that she feels — worry, fear, hurt — don't matter. They were okay. Everything she had been worried about is silly and doesn't exist, and one of the most important people to exist in her life is here. Surely that's all that matters.

Hilda can tell the thread he's trying to follow branches off multiple times, but that doesn't make it any less endearing. Her eyes flutter closed again, the motion of her hand slowing as her breaths stretch and slow before eventually falling asleep, soothed by the sound of his voice and the steady beat of his heart. ]

[ She falls asleep as he hoped she would, and now he's the only one left awake. It's something equally familiar to him despite the point of Hilda dragging him to bed during the war (and long before it) was to make sure he actually got some sleep. He did more often than not, and to the point where he'd fallen asleep before her several times in implicit trust meant only for her. The least he can do now is make sure she stays settled, her weight against him steadying like usual and in a callback to where nights weren't so restless as they'd always been for him. He doesn't mind staying still for her sake, an exception to his rules as she's always been.

The other part of the storytelling, not that he was going to tell Hilda this under anything besides duress forcing it out, is that a small part of him is afraid that if he closes his eyes he'll be right back in the cavern. Or it's not a small part, not really, and whether it'd be only because of a dream or due to some variety of a warp spell hereto unknown until right then feel equally frightening. Unbeknownst to Claude he goes through the same steps Hilda does: reminders that she's here, to let the world narrow down to only that. Everything else can wait for now. It'll still be here. They'll both still be here. Petra and Sylvain are alright, and they'll be here. It's more than enough.

Shifting a little, one tiny movement at a time to make sure he doesn't wake her, he turns to press his lips to her forehead and lets them linger with his eyes falling shut. As if it'll transfer everything going unsaid, erase away everything so she forgets the past few weeks - a balm he knows he should have offered while she was still awake. But on this he's also afraid even if those reasons are harder to grasp with how they slip through his fingers, and this does nothing to untangle the growing web of confusion intricately laced inside him that he's dragged her into when he doesn't know how to change it. ]

I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I won't leave you again.

[ Murmured against skin, like so many other truths whispered to her on past nights he's not yet made himself to say in daylight, like that'll transmit them to where they'll matter and can't be brushed off. That what he says now is something he can't guarantee leaves him feeling helpless. But Claude still wills it to help anyway, and that's the last thing still on his mind when sleep comes to pull him under as well. ]

[ Claude's words are lost on her as she slumbers and barely registering the soft press of warm lips against her forehead. Her body shifts slightly at the touch but she's fast asleep, oblivious to anything else around her. A demonic beast could come tearing by outside and she still wouldn't notice, curled safely into his side.

But then the dream begins.

The ones about her death have come and gone, biding their time in her subconsciousness for another night. Tonight's nightmare is new.

Her eyes opens to darkness, opaque and terrifying. The steady drip of water echoes around her and she can barely make out her legs beneath her. Panic would have set in had it not been for a sudden dull thrum of red light in her hands - Freikugel, she realizes with a shiver. It seems to take a deep cleansing breath as if it missed her, her Crest, unnecessary bloodshed and battle, but even its eerie red light does little to cut through oppressive darkness. She's knee deep in water, and while it's normally enough to trigger a whine, determination courses through her veins. There's something here she has to find. She feels it in her bones.

Hilda wades for what feels like ages, water steadily rising until she hears a relentless pounding ahead of her. Words fall from her lips, calling out to try and make contact with whoever the source of the noise is. A wall of rubble from a cave in looms, rocks covered with thick, gnarled roots that look like they pulse in Freikugel's light. A voice calls back to her the other side and her heart catches in her throat. Claude. Without a second thought to work or expended effort she raises Freikugel above her head and brings it down with a sicking crunch as bone meets fleshy root.

With enough of the fleshy mycelium removed, she tears frantically at the remaining rubble until she's rewarded with a view of a beloved face on the other side. A strangled, relieved laugh pulls from her throat despite the growths marring his tired features. She offers a hand to try and pull him through, but just as their hands touch, blackened, elongated arms shoot from the darkness. They clamp around his face and green eyes meet pink, both widening in horror before he's ripped backwards.

More hands shoot through the darkness towards her and she lashes out with Freikugel. It doesn't matter how many she cuts down because another arm takes its place and soon she's overwhelmed. Fingers made of blackness and mycelium force themselves down her throat as she's dragged under. As she drowns, disembodied, whispered voices that she swears sound familiar to her croon: Poor, sweet, Hilda, good for nothing except looking pretty. Poor, sweet Hilda shouldn't ever try because it always ends in disappointment.

The gasp that rips from her mouth is part cry, sharp and despairing even in its brevity. Her eyes fly open in fear and she flails, still believing in her nightmarish haze that she's drowning. But more devastating than that is the belief that the loss of Claude had been real. ]

Edited (CHANGED MY MIND MB ) 2023-03-31 22:40 (UTC)

[ Whatever the draught was that he doesn't remember drinking in the midst of everything: it was certainly potent enough to still be affecting his sleep. When he drifts off, Claude doesn't stir. There's no fluttering back to consciousness now and then throughout the night as usual, no hours of pondering the ceiling with thoughts that won't shut off or with a book while Hilda sleeps. It could also be a side effect of not sleeping for about a month, descending into various levels of illness, any number of things - but what it leads to is actual rest with Hilda at his side.

Until someone cries out, and he's awake in the same instant like he'd never been asleep past dozing in the first place. It's an echo of something from the pit, some anguish ricocheting out from suffering with so much of it around. He hasn't left. He's still there. Half-awake, Claude jolts himself at the next sensation which is someone close to him, far closer than he would've allowed. With his mind forgetting where he is and what's actually going on, it activates his instinct to flee built from years long before this.

But when his eyes open, it's not the cavern which greets him like he expected. It's a room it takes him another moment to place as somewhere safe, and that he recognizes pink hair still strewn across his arm. Who it was that'd made that noise. ]

What--

[ He doesn't get to finish that question as in something familiar from past nights, some part of Hilda's arm clips him in the jaw as she flails to escape whatever must be chasing her. A small startled exhale escapes him at the light impact before that action finally and thoroughly wakes him up enough to understand what's going on. There are no other priorities then but helping her. ]

Hilda, hey. [ It takes him a second to catch her hands to hold in his in hopes of calming her down little by little as he squeezes them reassuringly. Initial adrenaline fades a bit when it's clear there's no danger - not physically in the room with them, that is - Claude props himself up on an elbow to look at her. One squint in the darkness towards where the lantern on a side table is no longer burning reveals it's too far away to reach from where he is. There's enough dim light for them to see each other; that'll more than do when he returns his gaze back to Hilda again while trying to keep worry away. ] Take a deep breath for me, okay? It's alright. You're alright.

[ Fearing drowning has never occurred to her until now. She hasn't been taught to fear the water, not in the same way she's been taught to be cautious of the mountains and the things beyond it; but then again, she hasn't been taught to fear much of anything. Death is a real possibility and she knows it, but it has always been a mythical creature, one that Holst has managed to dodge through a combination of his skill and a healthy dose of luck. Death until recently, has never touched her personally or deeply.

A sheltered, charmed life had lead her to only realize now in her early adulthood that there was, in fact, plenty to fear. One nightmare isn't about to instill a fear of drowning, but this guttural fear of losing Claude? This isn't new, she realizes. It's just been biding its time, sharpening its claw and fangs so it could make itself known. Loss, however, is not exclusive to death alone.

The sound of Claude's voice and his touch start the process of grounding her, tethering her to the reality: they're in Nocwich, they are safe and they are together. Her breath is jagged as she tries to steady her stuttering heartbeat and she clings to him, all thoughts of how she shouldn't momentarily flying from her mind. Trying to steady herself is easier said than done. Several realizations hit her at once: Claude is not only here, but he's also trying to care for her when he's the one that needs caring for. Guilt cracks the spiderweb-like fractures in her heart a little deeper and tears escape despite herself as she blinks to adjust to the dim light. Her hand reaches out to cup his face while the other clutches his hand tight. ]

I almost lost you.

[ Her voice cracks under the truth of her words, barely concealing the other truth that she's still hiding from him: that she fears she might be in the process of losing the part of him that she cares for the most. ]

[ He can tell the moment when Hilda focuses to see something besides what she'd dreamed, recognizes him even if she still can't quite get an inhale in as she reaches towards him. As he takes in her expression - and then what she says - twists something deep within him more painfully than any blade could manage to do. Something stricken instantly flits over his face before he can fully hide it away because he's no stranger to how a subconscious can take something and warp it into terror from suggestion alone. Claude lifts his now free hand to wipe away some of her tears as best as he can with great care behind it as he searches her face. ]

No, you didn't. You're always stuck with me, remember? [ A faint smile just for show, even if it's one he and can't bring himself to properly feign - not when her voice shattered over those words with the reality of the last few weeks weighing them down. That's what it must be. What else could it be? ] I wasn't just saying so to annoy you all those times.

[ Mostly; some part of Claude had done it because that same part of him lived for the reactions he might get from her, for when she'd sigh dramatically or bemoan her fate and he'd just grin like it was all he was ever looking for. Saying so was never close enough to whatever was going unsaid by him beneath, what with it far easier to package up to where it could be shrugged off if she didn't return it. And if Hilda didn't want to return it, then in some terrible logic on his end that proved it was never meant to be.

None of that matters here where he's dropped his hand to cradle her cheek with his thumb tracing over it lightly while he continues to study her. What he's said - it's not enough. There's no humor in his voice but it still veers too close to all their flippancy. Pushing it there again could bring her some normalcy, but to do so now feels cheap. Claude just needs a second to think. ]

You could never lose me, [ is what he settles on with it said quietly, as clear as glass on the surface but simultaneously as opaque as ever. Even if he can't make himself say the full meaning, he doesn't mean it - all of it - any less. ]

[ The faint smile coupled with his words and his touch fractures the cracks in her heart a little more although she can't be certain why. Isn't this what she wanted to hear the whole time that he had been gone? That he still cared, hadn't yet outgrown her in their time apart? That it was going to be the two of them scheming, laughing, even for just a little while longer?

She toes the line of her carefully constructed box for fear of failure and she's okay with that because it means being able to see her friends blossom and shine. It's apparent to her how he's changed (whether that's from his time here, because of the war that has ended for him but hasn't for her, or a combination of the two, she can't say) even if he's reluctant to admit it to himself. The change is so apparent in the relationships he's forged not just with Petra and Sylvain, but also with the other Summoned. She should be happy there's still room for her at all. Grateful to still be thought of so highly by someone she adored. But her greedy heart has always wanted more.

Something claws at Hilda's throat like it's trying to get out. Is it envy ? Resentment? A desire for more? Whatever it is, she won't let it. She can't. Feeling what she does already threatens to tip a delicate balance.

Pull yourself together, Hilda. Somehow she's found herself in a pool of fear and worry. He's trying, for her sake, to throw her a lifeline to help her swim because this isn't her. This tired, crying, anxious person is not Hilda Goneril. Or rather, it's not a version of herself that she's made herself out to be. She should be sure of her place, if not by Claude's side, then at least in his orbit. The former deserved to be filled with someone that burned just as brightly as he did. Her greedy heart should be satisfied with that. If Claude had changed, then perhaps so should she with her childish wants. Right? ]

Tell me about it. [ Leaning into his touch, she cups the hand holding her cheek tight. Her eyes flutter closed, trying to sound amused and failing. ] We got pulled into a different world and here we are. It's like a sign, huh? [ Her failed attempt at humour forms as a lump in her throat. She tries to steady herself, tries to find any words to say that can express how much she cares without giving away too much. Nothing seems appropriate or safe enough. After a beat she gathers his hand and brings it to her lips, pressing feather light kisses to bandaged fingers instead. ]

I'm sorry for [ Worrying, bothering, burdening — ] waking you.

Edited (note to self proof read before hitting send x2) 2023-04-06 06:45 (UTC)

Yeah, I think that's about as clear as a sign as we could ever get. Almost like the gods or whatever else know it was meant to be.

[ Claude's also trying for their usual lightheartedness and missing it by miles even as she leans into his hand and closes her eyes. There's something he's not seeing here, he's sure of it, but it's too hard to focus on what it might be when she's right here in front of him. Here, in one piece on the outside which is more than can be said for him, and neither of them are without fissures on the inside.

Maybe if it hadn't been still so soon he might be able to voice some of them to her. Might be able to find a way to wipe away some of the details that'd make her dissolve into tears again when she's past the brink of them. And maybe, if he stops to think about it, wanting to protect her from this when they've already been through so much - she's already been through so much - is yet another convenient reason to keep a wall up between them that he shouldn't.

He's about to keep joking ("joking") when Hilda takes his hand in hers to press kisses to it, and the tenderness of that action sends his heart into the back of his throat. It's unfair, Claude thinks weakly, that something should affect him so much and entirely because of who it's from. Still as meaningful as all the other times on other nights where it'd happened and even more so now as he studies that face he treasures so much. Something else to file away under the what ifs of sometime where small things like this could be commonplace. As easy as breathing. If only. ]

You can always wake me, Hilda. [ One more slow shift to make sure it doesn't seem like he's pulling away when that's the last thing on his mind and to not pull at too many bandages. The latter is less successful but he ignores it, gaze still on her face as that movement meant he's freed up his other hand to run his fingers through her hair, to tuck loose strands behind her ear, any excuse to touch her more like there's not enough contact between them already. ] No matter what it's for, or why, or when. Even if it's just because you need an accomplice for a midnight snack like all those times at the academy.

[ One last attempt to make her smile given that he'd been every bit as guilty (and far more than her) when came to wanting to roam around in the middle of the night, but even if it's part of their routine it doesn't feel right. It's a strange feeling to be scrambling for words when so often he has them at the ready. Hilda has always been the reason so many of them feel like they don't measure up to what she deserves to hear. Something that's entirely his fault, he's certain, but here's one more tentative and partially obfuscated attempt. ]

I don't want you to apologize for it, either. I'll always be here for you.

Since when did you start believing in gods?

[ Her question is asked teasingly this time, but for some reason it sounds sadder than she'd like it to. She doesn't care if he's suddenly had a turn of belief. The sadness stems from a deeper seeded worry that there's more that she doesn't know about the person that she should arguably know the most about. Hilda's confidence is normally ironclad in an effort to conceal her anxities, but she's rarely had so much of a guard up around Claude. Realizing that she even has a guard up in the first place comes as an uncomfortable surprise. It's unlike her to look at her feelings so intensely. Looking inwards doesn't fit with the carefree, surface-level picture of herself that she's created for her to believe and for the world to perceive.

Claude's reassurance makes that difficult. So many times in the past, they've sufficed in being a balm for her insecurities and worries. She fondly remembers those nights vividly. Most of the time her coaxing demands had simply been that: company because she was bored and didn't want to sleep, choosing instead to procrastinate whatever the next day would bring with gorgeous, curious, Claude. But there were rare moments where there had been other worries plaguing her, refusing to let her find the blissful ignorance and peace that sleep usually brought. The memories bring about a pang of longing for bygone days when they didn't have to worry about anything and she was so sure about things. About them.

A small laugh leaves her lips at the sweet sentiment. She offers her own half-hearted attempt at smile in return. ]

I don't think Lorenz is going to be thrilled with me when he hears that the reason Mr. Leader Man isn't at a roundtable meeting is because I demanded you come to Goneril for a midnight snack.

[ Images of them now and then overlap in her minds eye. They've been in this position so many times before, curled up in bed, blurring plenty of lines that had eventually gone noticed by some of their more perceptive housemates. It'd be easy, she thinks absently as his fingers run through her hair, to gently push it down a path they're used to walking so that she doesn't have to think more about how or why she feels the way she does. The brush of his bandaged hand against her ear still manages to send a tingle down her spine and she draws in a breath and a small voice asks, what was stopping her? For a moment she falls back into old habits wanting to cling however briefly to those days and that feeling. Her hands move without thinking, gently cupping either side of his face to pull him closer.

There's a hair's breadth between them now, one that she's had no problem closing in the past because it hadn't meant anything to her then (at least that's what she tells herself). A kiss is just a kiss if you don't assign any meaning to it which they had never done, resolutely claiming it was for fun and convivence sake. He'd never think of her in any other light outside of that. A delicate flower had no place beside a man that shattered expectations. What could she give him that he couldn't find in someone else? Or two someone else's rather. Images of Petra and Sylvain appear in her mind causing her to halt. She can't continue to cross these lines with him when she can't see any room for her in his future.

There had been no mention of a promise in his words, but she hears it, earnest and caring, all the same. Quietly, her gaze searches his. ]

You shouldn't promise things like that, Claude.

Edited 2023-04-09 03:05 (UTC)

[ Lorenz's potential (definite) tantrum over such a situation occurring brings a smile to his face though it nearly as quickly dims into something wan. It wouldn't be the Roundtable he'd be skipping out on, would it, when someday he won't be in Fodlan at all? Something Hilda doesn't know - something no one knew then on that morning of Gronder and he'd yet to fully say even in his time. It seemed easier, in some ways, to simply disappear and send letters later. His desk back in Derdriu holds a few he would've passed on to couriers on his way so they could go to their intended destinations and he could go on to his.

That desk drawer also keeps every revision he'd made to Hilda's letter, each parchment written deliberately before being scrawled out as if those attempts would somehow make it easier. They didn't. Where they always stuttered out was the same point: avoiding a truth he knows he holds for her to where it's sealed away even if it could never be forgotten. Claude doesn't want to think about the fact that the locked drawer in his desk in the Horizon still contains all of those letters. Or, with every bit as much weight behind it, that they've been there for even longer than Hilda's been in Abraxas as just one of his memory's many calls for someone who wasn't here.

Her hands on his face are a comfort and something to draw him back to reality to fall into a familiar pattern he's only been waiting for the chance to find again. But then it stops there, and she says something which makes him forget to breathe. The instant reaction he wants to have is to ask why not? and it nearly makes it out of his mouth, something almost too uncontrollable to prevent from happening, and then Claude catches himself. If he asks that question then that means he has to know the answer. That Hilda's said this is worrisome enough; what if it gets worse? There was always going to be a point, he knows, where they'd have to define something that's become so much more to him than what it started out as or put an end to it. Now that it could be here he doesn't want it to be the latter.

It's likely only a couple seconds go by, but it feels like years to him. At some point he remembers to exhale though there's still nothing to say that comes to him as easily as it might any other time. Nothing but why not and the fear of hearing in no uncertain terms the reasoning behind it. Even indecision feels better than what he's built up the possible reasons to be behind this equation he's never managed to solve on any of their past nights.

But where Claude doesn't waver: in closing that distance to kiss her with one hand sliding back into her hair to gently pull her the rest of the way in. Maybe it's selfish of him to want this reassurance for them both when he should be finding something to offer to her, but he doesn't want to believe it's only for himself when Hilda had nearly done the same thing. Almost. Sometimes an action can serve better than words alone, when it's this easy - when it still feels like coming home just as it always has. ]

Edited (words) 2023-04-10 22:57 (UTC)

[ The thing about knowing someone so well means knowing the telltale sign that they're about to protest something. The slightest intake of breath that could border on a scoff or a laugh, the barely there furrow between his brows - it may be dark in the room, but Hilda knows they're there. For as long as she's known Claude, defying naysayers has been engrained in his bones. The exasperation she felt towards that quality had been short lived. She had quickly warmed to it, admired it, envied it, quietly deciding in the early years of their friendship that she would do whatever she could to support him in his endeavours even if it was as something a silly as a prank.

But support, she's learned, doesn't always have to look like agreement. As quick as she is to cheer him on, she's just as skilled at poking holes in his sometimes grandiose plans. Reasons are poised on the tip of her tongue as to why he can't and shouldn't in this one instance: What if she returned to Fodlan tomorrow? What if her future - his present - weren't the same? What if Petra's reality came to pass? Doing so would reveal the other awful truth she's been hiding from him, the one that she couldn't tell him in Aquila for fear of ruining his date with Sylvain. For fear of what it would dislodge in her.

Seconds stretch and she's ready to bury her face into the crook of his shoulder again and feign fatigue. Instead, her dismissal is muffled by the familiar warmth of his lips and the feel of his fingers in her hair. Her mind is overrun with surprise and a hint of exasperation (because closing the space is the most Claude response ever) but her body seizes the opportunity, deciding it doesn't care what logic or reasoning have to say in this moment. Right now? This is home, and she has missed it.

She melts into his touch like a long held back sigh. Hands slide down the gentle slope of his neck, fingers curling into the hair that has grown long during his time in the pit. Gently and quietly, she urges him to come closer as if that will somehow make up for the unforgivable space and time wedged between them even if it's just in this isolated moment. The romantic in her imagines their heart beats fall in sync with one another's.

When it comes to him, her resolve has never been as strong as she makes it out to be; her affection for Claude runs as deep as defiance and stubbornness does for him. It likely always would. But as she deepens the kiss, she steels her resolve, assigning a meaning to their kiss in her mind: this will be the last. ]

[ There's a split second where it occurs to Claude too late that this isn't the best choice. For a lot of reasons, the largest of which is it being months where he could have initiated this and hadn't. Not for a lack of want or wanting to, or even chances to, but because doing so felt like adding another tangle to all the knots tied between them lacing so much together. It's a silly thought now and one he would take back if he could, he thinks vaguely, though he can't do anything about that now.

Maybe it's best to not think at all. Far less complicated to lean into something they know well and nothing he's ever forgotten, something he couldn't have ever managed that even if he'd wanted to try, when her hands find their way into his hair. Easy to follow the invitation of space to be eliminated - of the physical kind to begin with with a silent request for the rest to follow - by letting his hand trail down Hilda's back until he can wrap an arm around her waist.

The kiss deepens and Claude chases it further, wills it to somehow transfer over all the words always strangling themselves in his throat. I missed you. I care about you so much. You've always been important to me. I don't know what I'd do with you. I didn't know what to do when you weren't here. All things he should have said without them being wrapped up in anything else or layered in fifty different disguises. All things he should have said years ago when they were only the weight of a feather, of a pebble, instead of the boulders they've become now. But it's thoughtless to ask for something not reciprocated when there'd been all those years where it could have been; where for all that this had become soothing in its consistency, it never had changed, had it?

Things could be different here. Claude pulls Hilda closer to cradle her against him like it'll block the rest of the world out, like there's not a hallway where anyone might walk by, like it'll absolve him of his past wrongs as an alternative to asking for forgiveness. It's not so insurmountable when it comes to the two of them - it can't be. Nothing is. This is proof. ]

[ Romance, surprisingly had been the last thing on Hilda's mind when they were facing down the barrel of a gun in Fodlan. Living in the moment and fighting to live another day had become paramount, making her avoidance of it easy; it had nothing to do with confronting the fact that there was more to their friendship for her than just losing the comfort of his body — why would it? Easier to keep believing the story that she had been telling herself all these years, the one where she didn't care for him as deeply as she did. She would never admit it out loud, but suddenly war seems like child's play in comparison to the feelings she's grappling with now.

Now that there is no war (or rather, a war that isn't theirs), where did that leave her? She's exposed, left without a convenient excuse to continue avoiding feelings she's denied for years. They're laid bare in front of her, daring her to look at them now that there have been developments in Claude's life. Almost as if they're forcing her to reevaluate and question where she stands. She doesn't want to admit the hurt she felt hearing about Sylvain and Petra — not to him, not to anyone, especially not to herself. Because as happy as she is for them, the seed of hurt sown in the equivalent of radio silence from him (she has yet to forget that he reached out to Petra and not her, and reason has had a hard time convincing her that it had to be the fault of muddled communication lines and not because he didn't care) had since grown. Traitorously, it now thrives on her haze of stress and worry.

But Claude's arms are a safe harbour for her; those feelings have no place here. Even the addition of new scars and wounds cannot diminish the familiarity his warmth provides. It's here that she can forget about everything else, much like she had at home. This is easy. This is what she knows. Roiling emotions are shoved roughly down as her teeth nip at his bottom lip, grasping him like he's the only thing keeping her afloat.

Her body yearns for more, devoid of him for so long, but she's mindful of where they are, his condition, and her resolve. That doesn't stop the soft, longing sound that she sighs into his mouth that hide her own thoughts. You make me feel like I can do more than I'll ever able to do to. I know I might just disappoint you, but I'll stay by your side as long as you'll let me. You don't have to care about me, just please don't forget me. She breaks apart just long enough to take a breath, pressing tender kisses to the hollow of his throat before capturing his lips in hers again. ]

Edited (i hated what I wrote don't look at me) 2023-04-14 08:16 (UTC)

[ That longing noise ignites something in him like it always has. A call to be answered, one Claude forgets the reasons behind ignoring it for this long. They seem so inconsequential now to where he can't believe they mattered at all. Even less so when she breaks the kiss and it's his turn to sigh, eyes closed as she moves along his throat before their mouths find each other's again.

Eagerness has him moving, this time to lay Hilda back carefully against the mattress beneath them as he moves to balance his weight over her without interrupting anything. Something not yet healed yet twinges somewhere as he moves with another smaller one following, reminders to not stress whatever injuries are hidden away too much but he ignores it. It's not enough to pull his focus away from pressing his lips to one corner of her mouth before trailing more kisses along her jaw. The hand at her waist he slides up beneath the hem of her shirt to rest at her hip as the trail leads her down the side of her neck as he starts to shift to continue on further.

Claude means to continue but this time it's the still healing gash running along his back which sends a sharp warning through him when he moves the wrong way, and that has him letting out a negative noise not tied to anything else going on. The flash of pain can't be disregarded when it's as clear of a sign as any to stop before something worse occurs, and this time around Claude heeds the warning as he leans down to put his forehead on her shoulder with a mildly frustrated huff. ]

Hopefully I get points for trying.

[ Claude hasn't forgotten Hilda's warning to tell her if cuddling up together brought on too much discomfort, and he's assuming stopping abruptly told on him enough without needing to specify further. And joking about it is what's best, right? Right. So: with a kiss to her collarbone he sits up again and withdraws his hand from her side to reach up and run it through her hair once more with a faux thinking expression on. ]

Maybe minus a few for pushing it too far, since I think you might be ready to take those back anyway.

[ It's not the best segue he's ever made. Not by far, but the alternative is still why not being whispered in one corner of his mind, and he's not about to address that. ]

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cw drowning, mild body horror

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