abraxaslogs | ( catch-all ) the more that i see myself

Entry tags:

( catch-all ) the more that i see myself

Who: Hilda & various!
When: September/October
Where: Cadens, the Horizon
What: Things, stuff, the usual but definitely not Hilda bored out of her mind recovering in bed. Also there's a mean moogle in her domain.
Warnings: Might be mention of injuries, but warnings will be added as needed.

( open and closed starters below. wildcards encouraged!
if you want something specific, let me know by hitting me up on discord or plurk! )

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— first week

[ Getting ripped open by a dragon has never been on Hilda’s list of things she wanted to experience in Fodlan or Abraxas. But surprise! Life sometimes gives you things you don't want just because.

In the days that follow the dragon fight, Hilda spends most of it bedridden in the shared loft with Sylvain and Claude drifting in and out of consciousness (with the exception of that awful joint vision). If anyone tries to contact her during that time, there’s a notable silence that follows; it’s unlike her to leave messages unread and even rarer for her to not reply which may or may not be a tip off to those close to her that something is amiss.

After the first week she can finally sit up in bed without too much pain. Her slight frame is propped up by a ridiculous amount of pillows and the usual pink hue of her cheeks is absent. Her hair is a little limp and most of the time she seems lost in thought as she gazes out the window. Most visitors won’t be noticed unless they make some effort to be noticed; her hands fiddle idly in her lap and a sketchpad lies forgotten to her side.

At the first sign of any company in her room she’s suddenly alert. The flush on her cheeks has less to do with health and more to do with embarrassment. Quickly she pulls either a pillow or the covers up to cover the dressings that wrap around her neck along with old battle scars that have always been covered by glamour or make-up in the past that are on display because of her short-sleeved nightgown. ]

I didn’t hear you come in – Sylvain and Claude should have told me!

— second & third week

[ By the second and third week, it’s clear that she’s becoming incredibly restless and bored. Any visitors will arrive to find her bed a mess. The numerous pillows are still there stacked behind her joined by an avalanche of books that would put Claude’s bed to shame. Most of them are the romance novel sort (spicy!), but there are one or two that stray from bodice-ripping covers that speak to subjects like metal-smithing and the odd book about New Magic. Some colour has returned to her cheeks and it looks like she’s finally managed to wash her hair.

All the whining about being bored might actually pay off and some might find her on the balcony of the loft, soaking up the sun with a ridiculously large sun hat on her head that doesn’t match her long sleeved-shift whatsoever. She’s taken up her sketchbook again, half-finished designs of whimsy for accessories and stage costumes sprawl across the pages.

Anyone that happens to walk in however might catch a glimpse of something that looks a lot more like armour than a bangle or a necklace. Asking about it won’t yield many results; in fact she’s more likely to brush away the questions with some big doe eyes and an ask to join her for tea instead. ]

Edited 2023-09-01 22:43 (UTC)

[ Being ordered to stay in bed means she has minimal options in terms of entertainment. It’s easy for her to slip away to the Horizon when all she does is sleep and laze the day away. But that means she has plenty of time to work on leftover projects in her domain than she might not otherwise have the chance to. Idle hands are the devil’s playground etc, etc.

Garreg Mach still stands proud and intact as ever. She can often be found tending to the wyverns in the aerie and occasionally out by fishing dock, feet dangling into the water. On the odd occasion she can be found in the training grounds. It's hard to say if she's actually done any training as is her propensity to studiously avoid it - but what is different is that she's standing there contemplating a very different axe than those might be used to seeing her with.

Those that wander a little further afield past the pastures will notice that they’ve burst into a meadow in full bloom. It’s all gentle rolling hills of emerald green and vibrant colours from the flowers that spring up from the verdant earth. Welcome to Goneril! Or rather, a part of it.

Intimidating mountains loom off in the distance but down in the valley, sits a quaint little cottage overlooking a small lake. Anyone wandering by for a closer look will be greeted by a small, furry creature sweeping dust out of the cottage. Don’t let appearances fool you. They’re a bit of an asshole as evidenced by them brandishing the broom and saying – ]

Watch where you’re stepping, kupo – can’t you see I’m sweepin’?! Kupo, you’re making it dirtier than it was before. Who raised you? Shitbirds?

Edited 2023-09-02 07:26 (UTC)

[Alucard only finds out about the situation when he stops by Old Public Hall to drop off something. Fabric, actually, that was to be discarded from his office and probably suitable for the stage. Hilda's out for a little bit, I think it had something to do with the recent nonsense? was all he was told from Ioana, who handled all the ticketing for events in the Hall.

The obvious thing to do, after handing Ioana the fabric, was to do a flyby. Alucard knew where Hilda lived, it was easy enough to become bats and...

...sometimes when you're recovering from dragon related illness, a little cloud of bats hovering at the balcony window. And staying there, trying to determine if you're awake or not.

Which is absolutely a normal set of actions for bats to take.]

[ Hilda would have been glad to hear that for one, Claude and Sylvain know her well enough to know that she wouldn't have wanted word of her injury getting out (because why would a delicate flower be anywhere near a dragon willingly?) and two, that Ioana hadn't been any wiser to the little white lie that they had told. It's just unfortunate that word had gotten back to Alucard in the first place because of course he would come and investigate.

She certainly isn't expecting anyone to drop by, not with the way the two men had been hovering around her like wyverns since she had awoken and she definitely isn't expecting to see anyone let alone a swarm of bats outside her window. Having seen Alucard turn into a swarm of bats before, it wouldn't have phased Hilda normally. But in her unfocused, hazy daze of drifting in and out endless naps the sudden blur outside the ajar window is enough to make her second guess what she's seeing.

He arrives as she's dozing off with a book open in her lap. Something makes her look up - whether that's the loud flap of wings, a brief shadow over the pages of her book, or just a feeling that she's being watched is something she can't answer. Regardless of what it is, she looks towards the window to stare, squinting - and letting out a screeched 'Fuck!' that immediately sends her coughing and hacking. ]

[....Okay. So the bats? Not subtle.

Alucard shakes, and he's suddenly reformed as a people again, standing politely on the balcony. There's two gentle knocks, seeking permission to come in.

[ Well, she's definitely more awake than she was before. As Alucard appears in his human form she presses a hand to her chest. Outside she can hear Sylvain exclaim asking if she's okay and she calls back saying it's fine.

She can't get out of bed but she motions from Alucard to come through the door that's been left unlocked. As soon as he does she lets out a little whine, slumping back against the pillows, eyes going heavensward. ]

You scared me. A little warning would have been nice.

Apologies. My intent was to only pass by and let you keep resting.

[He's not going to ask why the door is unlocked. There are some things a dhampir is not meant to know. But he is going to leave it open a hair to let a slight breeze in.]

Ioana told me you were out for a few days.

[Alucard is careful to hold Hilda's gaze and to focus on her face, rather than the rest of her which is...not great, obviously. It is a politeness. To let her decide how she wants to approach the situation and the extent of injuries.]

[ It's just easier to keep the balcony door unlocked during the day, okay? ]

You know you could have come to the front door like a normal person. I live with two other people.

[ And at least then she might have avoided this embarrassing scenario because there was the chance Sylvain and Claude could have just turned him away and said she was out. Or something.

The initial shock of seeing him outside his balcony like some sort of illicit visitor has completely made her forget to pull the covers up over her arms and that she looks far from her usual polished self. She recalls a beat later the state of herself and not so subtly pulls the covers up towards her chin despite the lingering summer heat.

At least her brain is being quick enough to pick up on an opportune moment to tease him. ]

It will be just a few days. I'm just a little under the weather. [ Insert fake cough here. The corners of her lips quirk. ] You didn't have to come by just because I was going to be away for a few days.

[What, for passing dhampirs specifically?]

Well, I had been hoping not to disturb you or your housemates if you were resting.

[Maybe he didn't want to deal with people, Hilda???? Did you ever think of that???

He does notice Hilda's arms. There's no comment on them though, because he's a gentleman like that. One who is very awkwardly standing in his friend's bedroom because he isn't sure if he's going to be told to shoo, and he's also unsure of where to even sit. This is starting to feel very silly.]

Mmm. I wanted to be sure it was a summer cold and nothing more untoward with the creatures coming from the rifts.

[ Sylvain has always been a terrible patient. Getting him to stay in bed and rest when he was sick or injured was nigh on impossible, as every single one of his friends back home would agree, at varying levels of volume and frustration.

So he understood how quickly one could get tired of bedrest and healing and as Hilda was far too much like him in some ways, he spends the first few days of her recovery - before it’s started to wear on her because she slept through most of them - trying to think up ways to keep her distracted, entertained, and otherwise occupied. He’s been using up his reservoir of magic each day healing what he can, but she’d been wounded badly enough that not even he can heal all of it in one go. Or two. Or even three, unfortunately.

So it’s a few days in, when she’s more awake and just starting to get bored, that the notes start appearing. The first one comes with a cup of freshly steeped tea, smelling softly of berries and roses. It’s a little pink slip of paper, carefully folded into the shape of a flower and left resting on her saucer when she wakes from a nap, the tea enchanted to stay warm at the perfect temperature until she drinks it - a little trick he’d learned from Annie back home.

I remembered you liked this blend back home, it reads in Sylvain’s careful handwriting. I hope I got it close to what you remember.

There’s another, left on her pillow before bed, folded into a little blue star. I hope you have sweet dreams tonight. Another, in yellow, folded into the shape of a cat, telling her its okay to be lazy and indulge in a nap. A green one folded into the shape of a leaf with her medicine, hoping she’ll feel better soon.

On and on they appear, over the span of several days. She never catches him leaving them for her, will only find them where he placed them to be discovered. He turns it into a bit of a game, on his end, seeing how many he can get away with, what new ones he can think up and where he can hide them for her. They all hold little wishes, little thoughts. Some are observations, some are memories, some are playful little anecdotes to make her smile or laugh.

He hopes, at the very least, it’s a little something to help brighten her days while she’s recovering. To remind her that she’s in his thoughts, even when tucked away in her bed. ]

[ Passing dhampir's definitely weren't top of mind. It was more like Hilda wanted the door open for some air, Perry opened it so she didn't have to get out of her bed, and then she simply forgot to lock it.

As for not wanting to be social thing, he should just suck it up?? Haha, get it? Suck...it...up...

She notices the hovering and she motions very quickly with her hand towards one of the large plush chairs by the window. Unsurprisingly it also feels equally awkward for her to have someone hovering above her while she's laid out in bed. The chair begins to move across the rug towards the side of her bed by Perry's unseen figure; the ghost would normally be able to move it with ease but today it seems like the feet of the chair drag along the rug as if it too is feeling a little under the weather. Perry manages it though and soon enough the chair is arranged beside Hilda's bed. ]

Why would it have anything to do with the creatures coming through the rifts?

[ Another little sniffle is added for the continued illusion that she does in fact have a summer cold. There is also the faintest hint of sass injected into her voice to cover up the fact that she's suddenly a little fidgety in reference to the creatures. ]

It wasn't like I was actively seeking out anything to fight after we sent that big mechanical creature away.

[That was a terrible vampire joke, well done.

Alucard is never going to get used to Perry. Or he will with a lot more time, because he does go tense for a moment when the chair starts to move. He's ready to just turn around and move it himself but...too late.

So he settles down into the chair, glad to at least hear the sass come into the equation.]

If I wasn't a gentleman taking your word for it, I might gently point out that one's arms usually don't look that marked up due to the sniffles. But I'm a gentleman and not doing that at all.

[He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment.]

I can make food on request and drop it off for your household, if you'd like. Make it easier for everyone.

[ Thanks to a combination of Sylvain and Claude's diligent (and mildly annoying) helicoptering and her own stubborn determination, Hilda is well enough to make it to Nocwich at the end of the month albeit a little slower than she might otherwise. Aside from the restlessness that had naturally built up being housebound for the majority of the month, she had baby lizards to deliver to friends in Solvunn.

She hated disappointing people and while this is a very minor thing that probably wouldn't garner any sort of disappointment, Hilda has had a lifetime of engrained avoidant behaviour that means she's going to think that will be a possible outcome anyway.

The day she's meant to meet Claire she leaves far earlier than she normally would with the promised lizard, a small tank and some small supplies that would make settling into its new home more comfortable. Unfortunately even with Perry's assistance, she finds herself winded. She's not that far from their favourite little tea shop now but the pain left behind by the dragon's wound whether phantom or not flares, forcing her to sit on a nearby bench and looking glumly frustrated that while she's well she's not quite well enough yet. ]

Here you are.

[ It's an evening with pleasant weather with a breeze coming through to stir the greenery and the flowers planted around the balcony, and with the latter adding pleasant perfumes to the air. Not for the first time Claude makes a note to ask Sylvain what some of the ones the other man's planted are - especially since the ones for Claude's own use are safely away where someone would have to look for them.

Hilda being confined to a room for rest is something he's deeply sympathetic to; between being trapped ("trapped") in infirmary rooms at Nocwich and then later in Cadens' hospital rooms he'd been restless enough to get up and start wandering far before he should have. Something she's not tried - yet, or at least not yet that he's aware of - but on this night when being faced with a particularly sad expression about staying inside when it looks so nice outside, well. Let's just say he'd relented on the resting in bed part of things even with all the hovering he's been doing to keep tabs on her recovery.

Which is how Claude's ended up carrying her to the bench swing with more flowering vines winding around its supports before setting her down in it carefully. That comes with minding each and every bandage he's come to have memorized, then reaching for one of the pillows to prop her up to keep any still healing injuries from pulling. That's followed with a quick scan he's perfected over the past few days to check for any signs of discomfort, unable to turn off the constant thrum of worry for even a second and without bothering to hide it before he looks back up to meet her gaze with a smile. ]

Now, which tea will be it be tonight?

[ Claire's wounds have all been healed by Michael and Himeka, thankfully. No lingering aches and pains, no scars, and yet, the mental trauma remains. Being eaten alive is quite the near-death experience, and so she's been sleeping even less than normal. She's also still making her rounds and checking on those who've declined magical healing, so it's with bags under her eyes that she meets Hilda.

Still, she smiles, always happy to see Hilda, especially now after everything that occurred. So, she does when she sees familiar pink hair, stepping closer. ]

You didn't have to wait out here.

[ Once Hilda comes to and can stay lucid for more than a couple of minutes at a time, it doesn't escape her that this must have been how Sylvain and Claude had felt after being rescued from the cultists. Being seriously injured and the long stretches of recovery that come with being seriously injured isn't technically something she's ever experienced before. Thankfully she's been lucky enough to never been so bedridden (including self imposed and intentional times) that she can't chase boredom away which is far easier to do when she can move. When they had faced down the dragon, she had thought that it had finally run out except her luck seems to be as stubborn as she is because she's still breathing.

It's not just boredom that threatens to drive her mad - it's the fact that she can't ignore how it feels like she came close to death. Lamenting about her boredom and festering in her mortality is thankfully short lived thanks to Sylvain's efforts. She has not forgotten her desire to clear a path for Claude and Sylvain, nor her desire to be a better friend or her determination to let her burgeoning feelings towards the both of them go. That is easier said than done when she finds note after note expertly folded into fun shapes and filled with sweet words and well wishes in unexpected, but easy to reach places.

Today she jolts from yet another fitful nap full of fire and sharp claws. Of burnt bodies of figures, one with dark brown hair and another with red. She lets out a noise of discontent both at the nightmare and the pain in her ribs, almost causing her to miss the small white paper rabbit resting on her bedside table and the soft footfalls of someone trying to sneak out of her room. ]

Sylvain?

[ Busted.

He freezes a few paces from the door at the sound of his name called from the bed. Face wrinkling up for a moment because damn, he’d been so close. But when he turns, it’s with a dimpled grin as he glances back over his shoulder at her. ]

Yeah, it’s me. I didn’t wake you up, did I?

[ Claude is well aware that Hilda is not above faking an injury or illness or two to get out of things she doesn't want to do. It had been common practice during their days at the Academy but not so common knowledge that people knew about her propensity to fib. It's not just an excuse either though - Hilda loves being doted on. Well, she normally does. The amount of doting that had been given to her by both Claude and Sylvain compounded over the last several days had crossed the threshold into smothering.

It was more embarrassing than anything else. And the tiniest bit uncomfortable mostly brought on the by the fact that this has been the longest she's spent around the two of them since her unannounced departure from the loft. When Claude scoops her from the bed, her arms are tucked against her chest, her arms too tender to loop around his neck like she might normally do. As he settles her down, there's a faint flush on the apple of her cheeks along with a muttered thank you.

Instead of answering his question however she gives him a mildly weary glance. ]

You know you don't have to get me tea, you know. I can get Perry to make it or something.

[ It would probably be with mixed results of course. Apparently being weak also means that her magic follows suit in a similar manner. It had been difficult for the ghost to move a chair across the room and that was something that hadn't involved hot liquid and breakable china. ]

[ Hilda is here for the rest of the month. Don't forget to tip your local delicate flower.

What should be easy for her to do is immediately draining. There's a thin sheen of sweat that she can feel begin to form on her forehead only furthering to sour her mood. She hates sweating. It's an unfortunate bodily function on her and right up there on the list of things she doesn't like including having her scars called out. There's a reason they're always covered up.

At said call out she quickly pulls the covers further up to her chin. More sass manages to sneak its way into her voice. ]

Good thing you're a gentleman then.

[ But his kind gesture makes her heart soften. She'd normally jump at the chance to have Alucard's cooking, but something like guilt flickers to her features. ]

I really don't want to be a bother but...I think it would be nice for Sylvain and Claude. They've been [ Hovering an annoying amount. ] doing a lot.

[ At the sound of Claire's voice she sits up a little straighter, trying her best not to wince too much at the motion. Any momentary pain she feels is immediately forgotten when she sees Claire well and mostly in one piece. At least as far as she can tell.

A quick little white lie is delivered along with a sweet, bright smile that isn't put on whatsoever. She had been worried about Claire throughout the entire ordeal even though she knew that there were those in Solvunn that were more than capable. ]

I just thought it might be nice to take in the sights.

[ She motions to the tank beside her with Claire's little lizard inside. ]

And I wanted them to see it too.

It is. Although a gentleman would worry less if he knew a fraction of what happened and that you're en route to recovery from this very-much-a-cold.

[He'll dance around it for as long as Hilda will, but Alucard has zero reason to believe any of this. Still, he's going to look around Hilda's room for a moment to see if there's anything to be had for the sweat. Just in case.]

Any favorites I should focus on? For them and for you.

No, you didn't.

[ The sight of him alive, well and cheeky is soothing and some of the obvious panic is soothed away from her face, replaced with a faint, fond smile. Their talk with Linhardt in the Horizon and everyone's respective deaths had stirred up old dredges of fear she thought were long gone. The added close calls they'd had with the dragon hadn't helped any.

Self-consciously she touches her cheek for any signs of drool. When she's certain there isn't any she gingerly pushes herself up into a seated position, wincing despite her best efforts not to. Seated up she can finally reach for the rabbit as the fondness in her expression grows. ]

I knew it was you leaving them behind but it's kind satisfying catching you in the act.

Coming to ~~annoy~~ ask Claude questions about wind magic, and try to cajole him into giving her lessons in the Horizon was mostly her plan. Claude, of course, seemed intent to not leave in case Hilda needed him. Which... okay made sense.

Of course, Abby slipped away the moment Claude turned his back because she- you know, does that. Her stealth was more comfortable after so much use during the monster attacks. Once she got to Hilda's door she lingered at the entrance. Then made herself visible.

And Hilda didn't notice her yet even after. She's really in a state huh? Eventually Abby scuffed her foot near enough to the door to make a noise.

"To be fair, I gave Claude the slip to see how you were." Claude knows where Abby is, probably. Or if he doesn't he'll figure it out. He's smart. "So... are you tired of jokes about you being too sweet, or an absolute snacc?"

Darn, I was so close.

[ He plays at being dismayed, but his dimples are peeking out around his grin as he comes back to her bedside, grabbing a nearby stool and sliding it over so he can perch beside her.

Reaching out, he rests a hand gently on her knee still hidden beneath the blankets. ]

How are you feeling?

[ The dimple is infectious and it catches on her face, bolstering her mood. Her fingers run over the sure folds of the rabbit, half tempted by habit to unfold it immediately to read whatever note could be inside.

Once his paper creations had been unfolded she had taken it upon herself to puzzle out how to fold them back into place. Some of them she knew how to thanks to her dabbling in paper craft but others, like this rabbit, would pose more of a challenge. But she had risen to the occasion if the tidy little collection she had in the large glass jar beside her bed is any indication. Whether or not that was an outcome Sylvain had accounted is something she can't say, but she's grateful for something to keep her hands busy.

At his question, hesitation ripples through her but doesn't manage to dislodge the sleepy cheerfulness from her voice. ]

A little better than yesterday thanks to your healing.

[ There's a brief pause like she might continue, but instead she holds up the little rabbit. ]

Do I get a hint about what's in the note today?

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Page 1 of 17

( catch-all ) the more that i see myself

— cadens, early - mid september

— horizon

week one, matt berry voice: BATS!

alucard is forever going to have matt berry's voice in my head now

we all should be so blessed as to have a single Al linereading to the level of Matt Berry

we have our imaginations

that we do. And replaying how Laszlo pronounces New York City

and camerUH

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Somewhere in here

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— claire

in the middle somewhere

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First Week

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