abraxaslogs | open | some closed top levels

[ Clive's Horizon isn't terribly accessible, but it won't keep strays from wandering in, either. The area itself is small, dense with overgrown forest, and the smell of petrichor is in the air, despite the apparent lack of rain. If you're lucky, a small wolf puppy might bound up to you, barking playfully, but more than likely he's off in the distance, chasing butterflies and the occasional field mouse, hardly noticing your presence.

Clive can usually be found seated on a fallen log, staring out across the sound to the castle on the far shore, a distant look in his eye. Otherwise, he's up in the rookery, seated next to a weatherproof chest full of books. He might be digging through it, but more than likely he's reading an old weathered copy of a novel titled 'The Saint and the Sectary'. ]

Edited 2023-12-16 23:28 (UTC)

[ His days are usually spent in the castle town, picking up small odd jobs here and there for whatever modest bits of coin the people there can spare for his aid. Things like retrieving lost pets from up a tree, or assisting in loading or unloading carts for a shopkeeper. He does it all (mostly) without complaint, although he isn't above expressing annoyance if he's sent off on multiple requests that could have been done at the same time. On his luckier days, he gets a job helping guard the grain stores, but those are few and far between.

Lately, too, he can be seen wandering the market, browsing the bookshelves for a gift for his little brother, or the stalls selling fabric and other sewing notions, checking the quality of any thread he might come across for Jill. He also pauses, every now and then, at a jeweler's stall, but nothing there seems to catch his eye just yet. ]

[ He’s still not used to the perpetual night of Oleuni Square, and it always takes his eyesight a moment to adjust after stepping out of the portal from Thorne, the dim gradually becoming easier to see in as he makes his way into the square proper. The air, too, is different — chilly. Winters growing up in Rosaria were mild at best, the worst weather being rainstorms that would last a full day or more. He hadn’t experienced snow until his conscription into the Empire and even then, it had been light, nothing of any true concern. Not, he thinks, as he stalks his way through the crowd, like the winters Jill must have experienced in her home in the North. He wonders if perhaps that’s why he couldn’t find what he was looking for in Thorne — maybe they don’t have snow there, either — and that’s why he’s here now, a man on a mission, looking for something. Something special. It has to be worthy of her in a way that he isn’t, otherwise he might as well not bother, and he slowly paces up and down the marketplace, casting his eyes around for what it is he seeks. He stops, now and then, at the jewelry stalls to take a closer look, but when he can’t find what he’s looking for there, he moves on, his sighs growing heavier and more agitated each time he comes up empty handed.

He’s got his arms crossed, trying hard not to glower at the wares on display in front of him at the latest stop, looking up at the shopkeeper in near exasperation. ]

And this is all you have?

[ It’s mostly necklaces and bracelets, and he’d be willing to settle for one of those if it matched her, but none of them do, all golds and bright greens. He sighs again as the shopkeeper repeats herself that this is all she has for sale right now, and he moves to turn away, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. ]

There must be someone.

[ Nocwich visits never fail to fill Hilda with a certain sort of giddiness that only comes with a new environment. While there's a surplus for her to purchase in Aquila, there were still several pieces were missing in order to complete the designs that she and Jesper had planned for the Festival of Enlightenment. There were substitutes and backups in place that they could use if they had to, but Hilda's perfectionist had reared its head making her usual lackadaisical nature a thing of the past.

As far as she was concerned, it was finding the perfect crystals and gems or bust. The all or nothing attitude was very much the stance she took when it came to dressing herself, particularly in Fodlan; if even one thing was off she'd throw a fit and declare that she simply wasn't leaving the house that day which would explain why she had such a surplus of, well...everything.

She's gotten better in Abraxas. Gold and where it comes from is something she has to think about now - but she's still particular and picky about the way things look, especially because of the gravity of what she and Jesper are trying to accomplish. There's only one stand that she knows will have what she's looking for but she does a preliminary sweep through the stalls anyway just in case. It just so happens that she's approaching the one Clive is turning away from - just in time to hear the man's frustration. ]

Someone or something? Because if you're looking for someone in a jewelry display, I don't think you're going to have much luck.

[ He'd been speaking aloud but he hadn't really expected anyone to respond, and he blinks at Hilda, a little confused, before he realizes that she is, indeed, speaking to him. He crosses his arms and sighs, slouching a little as he takes a moment to answer. ]

Both. But mostly the latter. I'm looking someone who is selling...

[ And here he trails off, because how does he even begin to describe what he's looking for? It has to be perfect. It's for her, his entire world, and nothing here even comes close to matching her beauty. When he finishes the sentence, it's lamely, with another sigh. ]

Something special. None of it fits.

[ With everything that she's seen and heard so far, Hilda quickly comes to the conclusion that this man is teetering dangerously between moping the rest of his time in Nocwich or turning the market upside down until he discovers what he's looking for. Neither are great options, particularly if it's the latter because that would mean she might not have a market to look through anymore.

And if it's the former? Well, maybe it would weigh on her conscience if she just went about her business and let this poor man continue to wallow. And really is there anything sadder than a tall, well-built man looking dejected? Kindly she offers, ]

If you're a little more specific, I might be able to help.

[ A quick glance towards the stall leads her to assume it's jewelry but who knows, really. ]

I know my way around jewelry, so if it's a gift for a special someone, I'm sure we can find something if we put our heads together. I'm Hilda by the way.

Clive.

[ He reaches out to offer a hand for a shake. ]

It's for my [ and he catches himself before he can say the word 'wife' ] Lady. She.. she's my entire world.

[ It's a little more vulnerable than he'd like to be, but if he's not honest then he won't find what he's looking for. And if this woman can help him, all the better. ]

I want something small, but beautiful. Delicate, but sharp. Like a snowflake.

[ Clive's brief hesitation piques her interest. But while she quietly notes, she doesn't inquire further on the off chance she's jumping to conclusions. The last thing she'd ever do is press a man who was clearly so head over heels for his person, especially when he already seemed so flustered about not being able to find her the perfect jewelry to encapsulate his feelings for her.

When she withdraws her hand from their handshake she taps her chin thoughtfully. ]

Are you looking for a necklace? A bracelet? A ring?

[ A snowflake could go on any of those after all. It would even look cute on a circlet but that felt a little odd to be giving as a gift. ]

A ring.

[ There's no hesitation in his answer, crossing his arms as he frowns. ]

Back home, she's from the north, a land of almost constant ice and snow. If I can even give her a piece of that, I'd be happy. And blue. She looks best in blue.

[ He's thinking hard, trying to remember what he's seen her wear, what fabrics and colors she's worked with back home. She'd made his favor with red, but it's never been a color he's associated with her. She's always been silver and white and blue, cold colors but home to him. ]

[ It takes everything in Hilda's power not to just outright squeal. Clive still might very well be able to sense the desire to from the way her eyes widen slightly and the way she has to stifle any noise with a cough. Once again she has to remind herself, she can't jump to conclusions. A ring didn't necessarily indicate marriage. But then the hopeless romantic in her, the one that was absolutely rabid for other's love stories was like a creature straining at a leash.

Something else occurs to her though as he describes her. Looks best in blue, a land of almost constant snow and ice. Her hand stills and another question rises to her lips that is no less important than the one she actually wants to ask. ]

Is it for Jill by any chance?

How did you—?

[ He looks up at her, shocked, but shakes his head free of it almost as quick. No, it didn't matter. He'd hoped to be subtle about it, but Hilda seems to have him read like a book and there's no point in denying it. ]

It is. Please, don't tell her. I— I want it to be a surprise.

[ He might. Be blushing. A little bit. ]

Oh, it was just a broad guess.

[ It's her best attempt to reassure him that it wasn't so obvious that it was Jill. And had Hilda not met Jill in her domain, she might never have guessed it at all. It's not like she knew every single Summoned that was in Abraxas. ]

My lips are sealed, I promise.

[ There's an earnest shine to her gaze - especially when she sees the flush that colours his own cheeks. It's the last confirmation she needs to know that her assumption about this being more than just a ring is correct. But she'll keep it to herself for now. ]

That just means that we'll have to make sure that this ring is perfect. Talk about pressure! The bad news is that I don't think there's anything you're looking for in the markets. The good news is that I can help you make it.

[ As long as her lips are sealed, it's fine, he supposes, relaxing just a little, though the color takes a bit longer to leave his face. It's an even bigger relief when he realizes she's taking this as seriously as him— and his eyebrows shoot up, just a bit, when she offers her help. ]

You can? [ He pauses. ]

Alright. Tell me what you'll need and I'll find a way to get it.

[ It's clear by his countenance that no request will be too much. Not if he's doing it for her. ]

[ Why wouldn't he trust a woman he's just met in the marketplace to keep a potential proposal secret? She's perfectly trustworthy! There's no reason to doubt her, not with her big doe eyes and small stature. In fact, if Clive looked it up in a dictionary, he'd see a picture of Hilda right beside it.

...Which isn't entirely true depending on the person or the secret. But that's neither here nor there. Not when it's a proposal.

Clive's conviction would just about have her swooning. Everything Jill had told her in the Horizon tumbles through her brain, demolishing everything else in its path. Ah, but right. The ring itself. There's suddenly a buzz about Hilda, like the slight crackle of static in the air as she begins to fire off questions for him. ]

Do you have a preference for stones? Carats? Her hands are rather dainty, so I'm guessing nothing too large that would look cumbersome on her. By the way, do you know her ring size? If not I can ask her I'm sure that wouldn't be a problem if you think it's too obvious.

[ Sorry, Clive. ]

[ There's no need for her to be sorry; he's less fazed by it than maybe he should be. She reminds him of Mid, in this moment, rapid fire questions and conclusions at the speed of thought, the same sort his all but adopted sister liked to throw around when she was in the midst of designing. He waits, patiently, for her to finish, and then answers each one by one, crossing his arms, fond of this woman in front of him. ]

I'm not familiar with many names of stones, so something blue. And diamonds, like ice. I don't know what a carat is. I don't know her ring size—[ and at this he does look guilty ] I've never thought to ask. Something like this has never really been a priority until now. If you don't think it would be too suspicious for you to ask...

Edited (formatting error) 2024-01-13 14:05 (UTC)

[ Too sucked into her vortex of designing, she doesn't notice any hint of fondness. Which is probably a good thing for her; she'd be too taken aback, possibly a little confused and potentially flustered by it to proceed with this quest that she's stumbled upon and decided to take up the mantle for.

All of Clive's answers are diligently written into her little notebook alongside the rough sketch of the design she's made in their time speaking here. ]

I'll see if Glen has any sapphires that he's come across that could work. Maybe something light blue so it's not too much of a contrast from the diamonds. And we'll use platinum or silver if I can get my hands on it. I'll make sure they're all proportionate to her hand so that it doesn't seem too overwhelming. She doesn't strike me as the loud, bright type.

[ And she does mean that as a compliment. As much as she's going about this informal consultation as professionally as possible, she still pauses, giving him a little bit of a ribbing for not knowing Jill's ring size though. ]

It's okay, most people don't. But I'll come up with a way to ask that won't give away your secret. [ She grins holding out her little notebook towards him. ] What do you think about this so far, by the way? We can adjust the design as much as you'd like beforehand.

[ He's watching as she sketches, still listening intently. He nods at light blue, and again at silver — gold wouldn't feel right, for Jill, he thinks. At her assertion that she's not the loud, bright, type, he looks up at Hilda, ready to protest, but it only takes him a second to realize what she means. Jill may be the brightest thing in his life, but she isn't flashy or ostentatious.

He's a little in awe that Hilda understands her so well already.

When she offers the sketchbook he looks at it, eyebrows raising. ]

No. It's perfect. A single snowflake, as unique as her. In silver, with the diamonds. And the light blue.

[ He hesitates for a moment, unsure. ]

You'll really be able to ask without her suspecting anything?

[ Hilda doesn't expect her quick sketch to hit the mark right off the bat and it shows. Being lazy and being a perfectionist shouldn't technically belong together, but they're somehow traits that co-exist in her tiny pink frame; even when outfits or jewelry were executed well, she was quietly never fully satisfied with her own work.

She's about to question that. Ask him if he's entirely sure that it's "perfect" because she can already tell that there are things she'd like to change - but then he asks her a different question in turn. Her own hesitation folds under an inquisitive look as she cocks her hip out slightly. ]

Are you doubting me?

[ Said like they had known each other far longer than this brief interaction in the market. ]

Well—no.

[ And he isn't, not really. But... ]

I'm doubting myself.

[ He tries to lie, he does. Lying by omission is hard enough but outright trying to keep from ruining a surprise by pretending to have no idea what's going on? That's not going to happen and he knows it, especially if the guilty look on his face is any indication. ]

It's difficult for me to... pretend something isn't happening.

[ he's an incredibly bad liar, hilda!!! ]

You're a bad liar, aren't you?

[ Despite how sympathetically sweet she says it, there's a bluntness to it. A little force meant to apply just the tiniest bit of teasing pressure to a man so large. He might get the impression that this is a past time of hers that she's come to enjoy in her time beside Claude's side - but she'd rather die than admit that. ]

That's okay! Lying is bad anyway. But you don't have to do any pretending because I will. And it's not really lying if I just sort of admit the truth.

[ She tries to give him a reassuring pat on the arm. ]

Here, to ease your nerves why don't we do a little practice here? Pretend you're Jill and we'll run through a little scenario of how I might ask her. You start.

Edited 2024-01-24 05:00 (UTC)

[ This is going to end poorly, and he looks around at the market around them before coming to therms with the fact that he's gotten himself into this, and there isn't much choice in how to get out of it.

He clears his throat, and tries to stand a bit more gracefully. Regal. Tries to hold himself in the way that Jill does. It looks about as natural as a dog standing on it's hind legs. ]

Hilda. It is. Very good to see you on this evening. How might I be of assistance?

[ Some way, some how, Hilda manages to keep a straight face. It's probably the best impression of Jill that she'll see barring having the actual woman in question in front of her, but let's just say that the bar is being set...rather low.

More than that however, it really just highlights how much trouble Clive is going to be in if the topic of a ring comes up. Sweet Cethleann's tits, this is going to take some work. Instead of making her laugh, it lights a little fire in her to ensure that she can equip him the best he can. Briefly she wonders if this is how instructors feel trying to send their students off on a task. ]

Jill! You're looking stunning as always. I'm working on a little project and need your assistance with it. Are you busy?

No.

[ Said with all the seriousness of a man trying his best to not sound serious, but lighthearted and kind, and failing completely and utterly at it. He looks just as serious, too, a crease forming between his brows as he frowns in thought. ]

I was just… Sewing. A shirt. For… someone. Why?

[ Hilda's lips twitch again but there's still a shocking amount of restraint being shown in the presence of what is probably his best attempt at any impression. ]

Oh, well, then this shouldn't take too long. I'm hoping to make some rings for some friends as a sign of friendship! I'd love to make one for you but want to make sure that it fits well.

[ She cants her head to the side slightly, an innocent smile on her lips. ]

Do you think I can measure your finger?

[ He's trying, Hilda, but even he knows he's doing a terrible job, you don't need to spare his feelings, and the look on his face shows it as he tries not to sigh. Instead, he crosses his arms, dropping character for just a moment to say: ]

Friendship? That's what you're going with?

[ Clive's skepticism is met with a cool raised eyebrow. ]

Sure! You've heard of friendship bracelets, haven't you? Why not friendship rings?

[ Listen, she knows when she has to step up in certain situations. Not that she enjoys it - but sometimes that's just the way the chips fall. And this is sadly shaping up to be one of those times. ]

And besides I haven't told her everything about my world's customs. She's not going to know any better!

open | some closed top levels

horizon; open to all

thorne | open to all

nocwich | closed to hilda

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