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CLOSED β come in, the fire's warm
When: Early September
Where: Borrel
What: Distributing curios among the villagers on behalf of Solaris the Strong
Warnings: N/A!
Unsurprisingly, Urianger avoids Nott.
Part of him is aware that it's pure cowardice keeping him from returning to the small village: the idea that he might be recognised as one of its assailants makes him feel wretched to his stomach, and he suspects it'll be a long while before he's welcome back there after what he did under Shuma-Gorath's influence. It's fortunate, then, that he's well versed in working in the shadows; a false name and some generous donations to the repair effort is the best he can do for the time being, as well as friends to keep him abreast of the any notable news.
It'll have to do for now. Borrel, on the other hand, isn't somewhere that he's known, and so when the opportunity arrises to assist Solaris the Strong in delivering curios to the local children he volunteers without question. He's seen too many young ones forced to grow up too soon because of circumstances beyond their control; Solaris's appearance in Thorne is well-timed, and Urianger appreciates that her request for volunteers has been popular enough that he has even been assigned a partner.
Lord John Grey. Urianger remembers speaking to him briefly yet never got around to meeting him in person, and in truth? He's looking forward to being able to put a face to the name. He's waiting patiently by the portal when he spots a man who seems as though he might be looking for something β or indeed, someone β and after a few moments of observation he steps forwards and clears his throat softly.
"Prithee forgive me if I am mistaken, but art thou Lord John Grey?"
Urianger wears a floor-skimming black robe with twinkling gold accessories at his ears, throat, and fingers, the arcanum for Death embroidered into the collar in a shining black thread. His hair β longer than it was when he arrived β is pulled into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, a few flyaway pieces tucked behind the long, pointed ears that mark him as Elezen.
... Well. That and his height. At 6'9", he's found he's taller than most.
He touches a hand to his breast as he offers a dip of a bow in greeting:
"I am Urianger Augurelt β thy partner for this task, if thou art indeed the man I seek."
no subject
John himself is dressed down, by his own standards at least. A pair of light breeches and riding boots, a royal blue waistcoat and matching jacket, embroidered on the lapel with the symbol for his own arcana: Justice. His hair is, as always, tied back in a neat queue with a ribbon, and he has a tricorn black hat perched neatly on his head. They say that the clothes make the man, and John certainly felt more himself once he had commissioned these.
He is just considering his options when a man steps forward to address him. A -- tall man, dressed in fine clothing and jewelry, with slightly pointed ears reminiscent of the fae they'd spent time with several months earlier. John finds himself momentarily taken aback, by the man's elegance as much as his height, before he offers a genial smile in return.
"Indeed I am," he replies, sweeping his hat off and offering his own bow. "At your service, sir. I understand that you and I have been assigned to work together."
no subject
"Indeed we have."
Urianger is pleased to have found the right person, and even more pleased that Lord John seems amenable to the idea of company for their task.
"And if I may say, it is a pleasure to meet thee fully," he replies warmly, evidently charmed by Lord John's hat-sweeping bow and general presentation. In truth it puts him at ease to be around someone who seems receptive to the level of formality with which he conducts himself; he's used to being (good naturedly) teased by his companions for his turns of phrase and manner of being, but this man seems ... at home with it all, if his attire and greeting are anything to go by.
It only occurs to him a moment later that Lord John might not remember that they've spoken before, and so:
"... Ah, thou wert kind enough to offer me advice as pertains to sleeping, some moons ago. Thy time and suggestions were most appreciated."
There's sincerity in his tone even if he still looks a little tired around the eyes β but then there's always something going on to be keeping him up in Thorne. The Anomalous Beasts are simply the most recent iteration. Tilting his head, golden eyes find Lord John's before making a vague gesture towards the portal.
"Art thou ready to depart, or is there aught thou wouldst complete before we leave?"
no subject
His smile softens slightly, as Urianger mentions their former conversation. Advice on sleeping. He does remember. He recalls the timing of the request, so soon after the incidents of the kidnappings, and while Lord John himself had arrived after the chaos was over... The timing of the request does not escape him. He has lived through traumas of his own, after all. None so bad since he has arrived that he has lost any sleep, in particular. But -- he does understand.
"I remember," he says. "I do hope you were able to find some relief, since last we spoke. Or at least, before our latest excitements."
He reaches out to rest a hand on his companion's elbow, squeezing gently, before he straightens and turns toward the portal.
"I think I am as ready as I ever will be. I confess, I am not used to traveling in such a way. Or -- to much of what I suppose I should consider normal affair, in this land."
no subject
John's touch is unexpected but certainly not unwelcome. Since his venture upon the First Urianger has learned much about the importance of simple closeness: he has spent so much of his life holding himself at arm's length from his companions β believing himself unworthy of their affections because of the burdens he's insisted he shoulder alone β but ever since his reunion with Moenbryda's parents in Labyrinthios? He's trying to be better. He's trying to change, and to allow himself closeness with others in ways he'd never considered before.
As such, his smile warms at the supportive gesture. It's unfortunate that his ears are so long and pointed that his hair does little to hide thhe touch of pink that settles into them β but with any luck Lord John won't feel the need to point it out!
"Thou art most gracious to say so," he replies, inclinding his head just a touch. In truth he had middling success at the time, and recent events have found new and creative ways to continue to keep up all night, but it seems a shame to cast too somber a note on the mood so early on. Urianger would like to enjoy his afternoon in John's company, not spoil it with negativity.
With that in mind, he adjusts the bag of curious hanging at the crook of his arm before offering his other hand to his companion:
"Wouldst thou care to take my hand for the journey? The transportration of one's aether in such a manner can be something of a shock to the uninitiated," he offers, just a hint of a chuckle in his tone. "Or mayhap simply for a little reassurance, if thou art initiated but yet remain in a stage of acclimatisation."
no subject
After a moment's consideration, he nods.
"I -- would be most grateful for it," he says, tilting his head to the side somewhat sheepishly before reaching to take Urianger's offered hand. "I have traveled a few times before, but traveling together will definitely be more reassuring than not. This way, I can be certain you will be there with me on the other side of that portal as well."
At least, he hopes that is how this works. As he has said, he is not certain of this whole portal business.
So sorry this took a hot minute!
"Of course," Urianger replies, offering John a warm smile as they turn towards the portal proper. "There is much about these lands that that I have found most peculiar, wherein a guide may have alleviated mine uncertainties. While I confess that I am no guide, if there is some small comfort I can provide then I will offer it most freely."
Magic suffuses the air as the portal prepares itself for the journey.
"Now, if thou art readyβ"
And just like that, the pair step through the glowing swirl of energy and find themselves in the village of Borrel. While the concept is much the same as travelling via aethernet the magic feels different to Urianger β like more of an active spell than a transference of energy β but it isn't so strange that he finds it at all troubling. If anything, he makes a mental note to enquire about it with the mages back in Thorne, but those are thoughts for when he finds himself alone and at a loose end.
Urianger pulls in a breath, then exhales slowly as he takes in their new surroundings.
"I confess, 'tis a refreshing change of pace to leave the confines of Thorne's walls for an afternoon."
no worries, i too am taking a hot second to get back on my feet
Closing his eyes once they have made their way through, Lord John takes a moment to steady himself. A wave of nausea passes over him, there and gone again, and he swallows thickly before collecting himself and letting out a slow breath, glancing up at his companion with a somewhat sheepish smile and finally releasing his grip.
"Agreed. Would that it had been under different circumstances," John says, his expression sobering slightly as his eyes settle upon the damage the rift creatures have wrought upon the sleepy village. That is why they are here, after all.