abraxaslogs | [ OPEN ] hide your love, don't be shy

Entry tags:

[ OPEN ] hide your love, don't be shy

Who: Claude and you!
When: all throughout August and September
Where: Cadens (pre-Nocwich), the Horizon (any time), and Libertas (post-Nocwich)
What: Catch all for both months
Warnings: For anything referencing Libertas: death, violence, and war

( Open and closed starters in the comments! Also good with prose or brackets and if you'd like to plot something more specific, you can find me at

indech, arboria#1862, or by PM at any time. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

a. at claude's

[ Despite being rather secretive when asked any deeper than surface level questions about himself, the doors to Claude's domain are always open. If someone chooses to cross the canal out front by boat, one will be waiting for with oars that are easy and effortless to use. They'll get you across the water in no time, and even better: they won't cause the boat to go in useless circles. (He has, perhaps, had that experience while using real oars and decided to spare anyone else from it.)

Whether Claude is there or not, a baby white wyvern will likely be perched on a tree in the first courtyard that greets everyone and might just give them any new faces a side eye. She'll let anyone in no matter what - and isn't likely to bite - but she certainly won't say no to a snack if a visitor is feeling generous enough to offer one. If Claude arrives later, she'll give a trill to announce someone is waiting.

The much larger courtyard has more to offer. There's chairs and couches for relaxing on or to get comfortable while chatting, and shelves full of books on all topics from Fodlan. Guests can take one with them to read later or even leave a book of their own for Claude to browse. Chess and backgammon boards are also set up here and there and if someone is unfamiliar with one or both, Claude's happy to provide a lesson and will even throw in his favorite strategies for both. If someone has a favorite board game from back home, he'd also love to learn how to play. There's also a weapons rack stocked with swords, axes, and bows and various targets if that's more a visitor's speed, and they're all weapons he knows how to use for impromptu training sessions.

If he's there reading or simply finds he's not alone there upon arriving himself, that smile in greeting will be quite genuine since he enjoys entertaining guests and getting to know someone new or an acquaintance that much more. Don't be shy! ]

b. or yours

[ When in the Horizon but not at his own domain, Claude's out investigating what others have built since each domain is a source of fascination to him.

The paths between each one are walked in turn to help him get a better idea of where each one stands or notice new details on those he's strolled past before on these trips. If someone is out walking doing the same, he'll keep them company or possibly point them in the direction of where they're trying to go if not sure.

When he stops at a domain most of his admiration will be done from the outside, if there's no clear way in or if it seems the owner isn't present, so he might be found simply studying the grounds, the structure, whatever's there. He might wander in if it looks welcoming enough just to see what's going on inside. As long as it's clear he's not trespassing in some way, Claude's happy to stay and chat for a while if noticed. He may come with a brightly flowering potted plant that grows in the courtyard of his own domain as a gift for wherever he's visiting, but no pressure in accepting it. ]

Edited 2022-08-12 14:16 (UTC)

[Wilhelm thinks of his domain as his sanctuary, a rare thing that belongs only to him, that can't be touched by anyone else unless invited. Well, surprise visitors have wandered in a few times, but he'd made his little corner of the Horizon hard to find on purpose, tucked away among trees and bluffs. For this reason, projecting his desire for privacy onto everyone else, he hasn't explored much of the landscape shaped by the whims and wishes of the Summoned. The combination of curiosity and boredom, though, draws him out eventually.

It's the rowboat that catches his attention. Waiting untethered in the canal, it feels like an unspoken invitation. After a moment's debate, he climbs in — better to ask for forgiveness than permission. The heft of the oars is familiar in his hands, though the size and shape of the boat itself is different from what he's used to. It wouldn't win any races, that's for sure. He's also used to sharing the burden with three other rowers, but as he dips the oars into the water he discovers that the boat glides with unexpected ease.

The smooth sailing ends, both literally and figuratively, when he steps out into the courtyard and finds himself getting stink-eyed by...what looks like a baby dragon.]

Um...I come in peace?

[Even if he didn't have his hands raised to his chest in the universal placative sign of I'm not going to hurt you, Wilhelm wouldn't look like much of a threat.]

[ Though he's in and out most days, today Claude happens to be reading further inside. Or, well, reading in the technical sense; given that there's parchment papers scattered around the stacks of books next to him and a quill that remains inked (thanks, Horizon) in one hand it's more accurate to say he's reviewing some research left undone by coming here. When there's a sudden chirp he's learned means visitors imminent he closes the book with a handily conjured up bookmark to save his spot in it for later, stands up and dusts off his coat and trousers, and heads to see who it might be.

As Claude steps out from the inner courtyard there's only a slight flicker of surprise from him someone is already standing there, but there's absolutely no surprise about the glare from the wyvern perching on what seems to be her designated lookout spot as he glances to her. ]

You're a very poor welcoming committee, you know. One might even think you don't even like people based on your behavior.

[ This is said with great cheer towards the wyvern who looks deeply unaffected by this proclamation and simply ruffles her wings a bit in acknowledgement. With a roll of his eyes - given that her behavior here is so much like what deals with daily from her real-life much larger counterpart; thanks, memories - he turns to the young man she was lightly menacing and appraises him for a few seconds with a smile. ]

I don't believe we've met before, but it's nice to see new faces around here. I trust the boat is still working well, then? I'd made some changes to it recently and was hoping that'd be the case, but you're the first to test it out.

[It's not that he was forming an image in his mind of the person responsible for this wedge of the Horizon, but when Claude appears in the courtyard, he's pretty much what Wilhelm would expect the owner of a pet dragon to look like. He feels...if not underdressed, then at least conscious of how his hoodie and shorts are woefully out of place. Now that he's reasonably sure that the creature isn't going to fly down and snap at him, he lowers the shield of his hands. But every now and then his glance slides back to where it perches.]

Yeah, it was really easy to work. [He shoves his hand through his hair, crosses his arms over his chest.] I'm Wilhelm, by the way. Sorry for intruding.

[The man doesn't seem to mind his unannounced and uninvited visit, but he offers the apology for good measure.]

I, uh...haven't been out on the water since I got here, so I just got curious when I saw the boat.

[ At the apology, Claude merely waves a hand in both acceptance and to politely brush it off as not needed. Or at the very least, hopefully to put Wilhelm at ease since the way he folds in himself just a bit during that introduction reminds him just a bit of Marianne and her shyness. ]

It's hardly intruding if I leave the docks unlocked, right? I can't say I haven't stepped into a few domains here and there myself under those same rules. But it's nice to meet you, Wilhelm. I'm Claude. And for the record - just in case it wasn't already clear - you're welcome to stop by whenever you'd like.

[ It takes him a second to process the rest of what was said, mostly because he wouldn't have guessed the teen is a sailor. In the most literal, medieval sense of the word, of course. ]

Are you a sailor, then? The city where I used to live was a popular port so we often had ships going in and out but the boat you arrived here in was used more for getting around the canals running through said city.

It's been a bit since I've walked where the canal outside of here leads, but it does connect with the domains of two of my friends if you haven't met them yet already. If you'd like to take the boat along it further than that sometime you're certainly welcome to do that as well, so long as you return to tell me where it leads past there since I haven't figured that out for myself just yet.

[ As he talks, there's another distinct rustling of wyvern wings from the perch above and in what's clearly a long practiced routine thanks also to those memories Claude extends an arm for her to sidle down on as her new perch. She does not, fortunately, take this opportunity of being closer to menace Wilhelm further. (On the contrary, her pointed gaze is now hoping for snacks she's learned to plead for from visitors, but Claude isn't going to indulge her in this.) ]

[He opens his mouth to correct Claude's faulty assumption, but the guy keeps talking, and he doesn't want to interrupt. Nodding to show that he's still listening, he takes the opportunity to glance around the courtyard. The leathery shifting of wings pulls his attention back to the wyvern as it settles onto Claude's arm. After a short-lived staring contest with the creature, he clears his throat.]

Oh, I'm just on my school's rowing team. So...not actually a sailor.

[Based on the whole dragon-tamer, daring-adventures vibe the man exudes, Wilhelm assumes that the concept of organized sports is lost on him. So, with a little shrug, he clarifies further:]

It's just for fun.

[Half of the reason he joined, he can admit to himself, may have been to have an excuse to spend more time with a certain boy. He was further motivated by the fact that August would have somehow found a way to be twice as annoying if he didn't join, and the fact that his brother had rowed in his school days. But he did like it too, the dependable rhythm of the oars and the feeling of flying across the water.]

[ The assumption of organized sports being beyond Claude's current knowledge of the world - not just his, but what he's learned from others, too - is a valid one. Especially because when Wilhelm explains the sailing isn't for a profession, that it's meant for fun, that stops Claude in his rambling enough to blink a couple times. Purely out of curiosity, though he's quick to give his own clarification that it's nothing more than that. ]

Well. Maybe you're not the type of sailor I'm familiar with but I'd say you still count as one, wouldn't you?

[ That not quite a question, not quite a comment's offered with a smile since really, he does mean it. Partially because he's having trouble imagining someone rowing for fun given the ships - or even small boats that'd be more likely to require it - he's familiar with, but. It's far from the biggest difference he's heard between what he knows from home and what someone else's is like. ]

Oh, and we don't have to stay out here. C'mon in, there's more to this place than just this room alone. [ With one shrug of his arm the wyvern takes flight like she's going to lead the way or perhaps just go off for a flight around the Horizon as a whole in search of someone else she knows. Claude follows that up with an additional c'mon wave of his hand before turning to lead the way into the domain. ] And I'd like to hear more about where you're from. Assuming you don't mind sharing, that is, and if so you're welcome to tell me to mind my own business then or at any time, really.

[So, what he knows about Claude so far is that the man loves to talk. Which is fine, Wilhelm supposes, since one of them has to fill the quiet. He's better suited to nodding along and interjecting when prompted. Like now, when Claude lobs a question his way.]

I guess so.

[He's positive that an actual sailor would have to know a lot more than just how to time his strokes and maneuver the oars in such a way to maximize efficiency. But it's easier to just agree. Go with the flow. Sliding his hands into his pockets, Wilhelm follows Claude through the next doorway.]

It's honestly not that interesting, where I'm from.

[He never knows what to say when people ask about it. When you're thrown together with dozens of people from as many different worlds, it's natural to be curious about the multitude of paths that led everyone here. But his mind just goes blank, and somehow gets blanker the harder he tries to think of something worthwhile to say.

So instead, he diverts the conversation back to Claude and what is, in his mind, a much more interesting topic.]

Did you have a dragon back home?

[ Claude's starting to feel like his assessment of Wilhelm matching up to Marianne's past behaviors might've been more spot on than even his first assumption. Not much is volunteered past the basics needed to answer a question, and in a way he can't quite tell is because of shyness or because Wilhelm, understandably, perhaps doesn't want to answer four thousand questions from someone he doesn't know. Patience was the key then and very well could be now. Something to think about, anyway, as he offers the teen a smile while they walk to the inner courtyard.

Despite his own never ending curiosity, Claude will stick to his word in minding his business, mostly, as he holds the door open for Wilhelm to pass through to back 'outside' or as outside as one gets in the Horizon. The conversation pivots back to him in a way he expects, so he's quick to nod and move it away from making Wilhelm feel like he's required to share anything past his comfort level. ]

Yes, but a wyvern. They're a little bit different in that their front legs are their arms, whereas dragons - where I'm from - have four legs total plus the wings. Mine is - [ Claude casts a quick gaze up to the sky where a small white shape can be seen soaring high above them - ] full grown to where I can ride on her back like one would a pegasus, but she looked like this when she was growing. It's beyond me why I choose to make her this age here, but.

[ He doesn't actually have a way to finish that sentence. Fortunately, Claude's saved from having to find one (in his mind, at least), by holding a hand out to a cushioned chaise for Wilhelm to be seated there or somewhere on the rest of the couch it's attached to if he'd prefer. Claude takes a seat in a chair himself and leans back in it to contemplate the fragments he's learned so far. ] I'm guessing I wouldn't be too far off if I asked whether dragons and wyverns don't exist where you're from? One, or both, or either.

Edited 2022-08-29 18:33 (UTC)

[It's part shyness, part guarded secrecy that keeps his answers short and shallow. One is his nature, and the other he's learned from life in an unwanted spotlight. His time here has, in many ways, been a break from reality — and from himself. He's perfectly content with being nobody in particular.

When Claude dives into a dissertation on the difference between wyverns and dragons, Wilhelm starts wondering if there's going to be a test at the conclusion of his visit. He's mostly listening, though his attention floats upward to where the dragon — uh, wyvern — makes circles in the sky. At Claude's invitation, he takes a seat on the couch, posture perfectly upright, hands folding and fidgeting in his lap.]

No, only in books and movies and stuff like that. They're not real.

[ Not real is an assessment (fact) that seems rather unfortunate in Claude's book, though Wilhelm's far from the first Summoned to inform him any of those animals don't exist where they're from. In lieu of commenting further on that, though, he studies Wilhelm's posture.

First with a slight smile to acknowledge he heard what was said, and then far more subtly as he draws upon that oh-so-handy Horizon magic to summon forth a tea tray in front of them. It's complete with cups, a box of different loose teas, and a teapot of hot water, though as he pours some first into a cup for Wilhelm Claude's quick to add: ] Tea's a favorite where I'm from so it's what I tend to default to serving. If you don't enjoy it, feel free to have something else of your choice as my knowledge of what's served elsewhere is rather limited. No hurt feelings here, I promise.

[ He drops a sachet of pine needle tea into his own cup, a favorite of his from Fodlan and farther away, though the box contains other types more known: ginger, different berry blends, chamomile, and so forth. While it steeps Claude lets the cup and saucer rest in his lap, partially in hopes it might convince Wilhelm to also relax. Just a little. ]

You remind me a bit of someone I used to know. He was a prince of a kingdom that neighbored where I lived, and... very formal. Great posture, impeccable manners, all that. [ A slight smile that's rueful at the edges appears on Claude's face. ] Especially for the age we were, which was just teenagers ourselves.

[He accepts the cup automatically.]

Tea's fine, thanks.

[Studying the tea chest, Wilhelm settles on something that's just a small step away from basic black — it's supposed to taste like cinnamon. He's just plopped the bag into the steaming water when Claude compares him to an old friend, and the word prince causes him to wobble his saucer involuntarily. His attempt to steady the cup results in some of the soon-to-be-tea splashing out. Smooth.]

Oh, really? [What the hell is he supposed to say to that? He scratches at his temple, idly twisting a strand of hair.] My mom was always big on manners. I guess I just do it without really thinking about it sometimes.

[Anyway. Now that Claude's pointed it out, he does try to relax his posture a notch.]

So how did you meet? Your friend.

[ If Wilhelm was hoping Claude wouldn't note that rattle of the tea and saucer - well. That catches his attention though he's still projecting the illusion of being busy with his own tea, and it takes only a second to connect it to being timed with the mention of a prince. Interesting. ]

I've found nobility tends to pride itself on sticking to manners, etiquette, whatever you want to call it. Seems to be a cornerstone of high society, if you will.

[ Absolutely some subtext of his own, though Claude hides a smile in his cup as he takes a sip. Still more brewing time needed, so he sets it back in his lap while shrugging one shoulder. What he's alluded to won't remain a mystery for long since even if he's stepped back from asking direct questions, sharing his own experiences may accomplish the same thing. ]

I never was very good at sticking to all of those rules myself. Life's more interesting when you break away from them or what you know.

[ With that trail of clues (or truths) dispersed, all that's left to see is whether Wilhelm chooses to follow them. Or if he doesn't, which would also answer his question. The relaxing gets another half-smile from him before it's on to slightly more somber topics. ]

As for the prince, I met him when I attended an academy meant for what you could say was leadership training. There were plenty of nobles, myself included, but there were also just as many commoners attending. It was meant to encourage us all to work together and succeeded, for the most part.

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( she's said it once, to someone, though she isn't entirely sure she believed it at the time: that the places in the horizon feel more like safety than being in the welcome confines of solvunn's territory, as though it's a place where she can get lost or hide away, a place where she doesn't have to show her best face if she doesn't want to. wandering through domains, finding little pockets of interest or beautiful sceneries encouraged by the memories of the owner? it's like traveling without having to really go anywhere at all, and it sates her vivacious curiosity in some ways, as though it allows her to do things without worrying about putting herself, or anyone else, in danger. this domain that she's found, in particular, looks lush and beautiful, almost like a city in and of itself--it's so different from her own domain that she's drawn to it in the same way that the skies of midgar draw her in, terrifying but somehow beautiful in the same way.

getting to the double doors isn't difficult, but it does take some time--when she finally works her way through, walking carefully in her muddied boots as though she's worried about tracking dirt through the walkways, her eyes are drawn upward; at first, she thinks that the creature there, perched on a tree, might be some sort of warning device, the sort of animal that will immediately screech and squawk and duck down to attack any intruders. she stares at it, brows knitted together, as though they're both locked into a staring match--but it's the little dragon-like creature that yelps first, a melodic sort of trill as it edges down to a lower branch, and aerith laughs, bright and pleased. a friend, then, which is precisely what she wanted: standing up on her toes, she stretches one arm towards the creature, urging it down another branch as it tentatively sticks its neck out. )

Are you hungry? ( there's no one else that she can see to talk to but the creature, so she does--her lips press together, thoughtful, though it doesn't look like there's much to give it, and after all, what might she give it? does it eat meat? fruit? flowers? apologetically, she runs her fingertips down the neck of the creature. ) I'm sorry, I'll find something...

( what she finds, instead, is the beautiful courtyard, her eyes taking in all the details as she stands there, trying to read the spines of the books on the shelves from a distance. there are places to sit and read, she figures, as well as places to lounge, and: there's some sort of curious board game set up on a table, which draws her attention as she approaches. the board is checkered, and the pieces look to be done up in the style of...well, she can't quite tell. curious, she picks up a pawn piece, twisting it in her fingertips.

the creature, back at the doors, lets out a trill of announcement: aerith doesn't know what it means, but she figures it might mean the owner of this place is back; hurriedly, she sets the piece back on the board, but her knee knocks into it, and a few of the pieces topple over, falling to the ground--she quickly crouches, her dress fluffing over her legs, desperate to scramble up the pieces so that she can put them back where they belong. )

[ The Horizon provides endless fascination to Claude as well, what with all of the ways to see things he could never have imagined might exist even in his dreams of what might come to be someday in Fodlan if technology was allowed to expand. On this day in particular he's returning from roaming a new section he hasn't yet studied in depth and is lost in thought as he opens the doors to his own domain upon return, intent on jotting some notes down into a journal he's created for just that case. Something to occupy his mind while he's here, mostly; another habit of not being able to let go of always searching for information when and where he can find it.

The wyvern greets him with a noise he's come to recognize, and he reaches up to pat her taloned foot as he passes in acceptance of the alert. Even though her job is done, there's a telltale tiny rush of air behind him when she takes flight to follow him into the courtyard. And there Claude comes across a woman he doesn't know, at least not from not being able to see her face as she straightens up one of the games of chess sitting about waiting for a player or two. It's the sort of thing he'd hoped would happen by leaving the doors to his domain open for anyone to stop by, so curiosity draws him in to head her direction and hopefully not startle her in the process. ]

Have I arrived too late and already lost the game? That's unfortunate. For me, anyway.

[ A joke, kind of, regarding the chessboard being reset with the pieces all moved back into their places like after a successful (for one of them) game or so he's assuming from a distance. As Claude approaches though he can see that's not quite true, though she's made a very valiant effort to put each back where they belong. A slight hm escapes him since that's likely kinder than chuckling as he's tempted to do - and though the noise likely betrays his amusement all the same. ]

If you'd be interested in learning to play I'd be happy to teach you the ins and outs of it all. Not necessarily right now, of course, since it's supposed to be for fun but being put on the spot tends to be anything but.

And - [ with a short pause, to address what feels like the other obvious thing here - ] I don't believe we've met before, unless my memory's failed me?

( she imagines that this person, whoever they are, must be the lucky owner of this abode--which means that it's his game she just messed up, quickly jerking herself up to her feet as her fingertips drop a piece here and there, pushing them hastily back onto the board. no, it's not a game that she's familiar with, but she imagines there has to be some sort of 'undo' button for it all, like a way to start the game over with all the pieces back where they belong.

her head whips, from him to the board, and she tilts her head at it, thoughtfully. )

...Well, the joke's on you, actually. ( when she looks back over at him, it's with a wry, amused sort of smile, like she's making a show out of knowledge they both likely know she doesn't have. ) I know how to play this game really well. I'm a pro white...piecer...

( or whatever this game is called. with a smile, she gestures to one of the seats. his seats. is she really inviting him to take a seat in his own little piece of horizon? yes, she is. )

Let's play a round. I'll tell you my name if you can win one of my pieces.

( and, with a quick, nervous sort of swallow, she takes a seat on the chair opposite the one she indicated for him. it's not that she's particularly worried about the game, but: this man looks to be someone a little more done up than just a regular citizen, or maybe it's just the effect of his clothes. she looks the same as always, plain and normal; honestly, she prefers it that way. )

Can we change the colors? Of the pieces, I mean, before we play. They're a bit dull.

[ 'Pro white piecer' makes it rather difficult to restrain a smile which he's doing lest she think it's at her expense, but the gesture for him to be seated following that makes it impossible to hold back. ]

Chess is the usual name for the game, and I can't say I've ever heard pro piecer before but I'm betting it'll take over as a new name for it very soon. [ So much for not teasing her about it a small bit, though he's certain to keep his tone light, all geniality. Still, he'll take the invitation and sit down just in time for yet another surprise. The offer to learn her name in exchange for winning one of the pieces has Claude studying her carefully, unable to keep himself from wondering if she does secretly know how to play chess after all. If not, the tiniest bluff he's been given is one he can also respect. ] And that's quite the wager to go with it. It's hard not to like someone who has that level of confidence in their skills.

As for the colors...

[ Claude trails off and looks down at the standard squares with pieces to match and studies in thought. The pieces aren't back where they belong, not really, though it was a fairly good attempt to straighten them up. And really, she has a point that the pieces are far from exciting to look at. Claude reaches to tap a knight with one finger, transforming the black stone of it and all the other pieces to a dark blue one shot through here and there with lighter and darker blues not unlike agate. At the same time, the pieces out of place slide across the board back to their beginning stations.

Afterwards, he raises an eyebrow while surveying his work. The board does look better now. ]

You're right, they were a little dull before. I have to admit I sometimes miss being able to do things like that outside of the Horizon, but it's probably for the best I can't change things at random. You choose which color you'd like to change the others to for your use.

( it's not that she's suspicious of him, but more that there's a curiosity for his relatively pleasant, easy-going behavior that has her gaze focused on him as he sits down. he moves like someone who is used to a battlefield, or perhaps a ballroom: someone that knows the precise ways to move their body, someone who is used to standing tall or walking tall or maybe just being tall in general. of course, compared to her, anyone is quite high in stature, but: combined with his clothes, she feels like she's starting to piece together a story for this stranger.

the distraction comes with the way he touches the board--and it shouldn't be a surprise, just as it shouldn't be anything particularly flashy, but her hands lift from the lap of her dress, pressing her palms together like it's something to marvel over. the pieces on his side flood with a beautiful blue, sliding around the squares on the board; it turns out she hadn't gotten them all back to where they belonged, but that doesn't seem to matter. ) How gorgeous...!

( what sort of color is it? the color of the deep ocean, perhaps, or a shimmering gemstone, hidden in the dust--it doesn't make her think of the sky, or the terrifying color of it, or even the blue-green shimmer of mako in the irises of those that she loved once. )

For me, then... ( carefully, her fingers pluck at one of the pieces from the corner of the board: it looks like the top of a castle, perhaps, like a tower illustrated from a storybook about princesses and terrible magicians, and as she touches it, the white flickers through with pale pink striping, curling around the piece like a ribbon. when she sets it back down on the board, the rest of her pieces follow suit; they look like candy, all wrapped up neatly in the same pink of the bow in her hair. ) Perfect! This should be fine.

( amused, her gaze flickers up to the stranger--with one hand, she gestures across the board, both casual and playful. )

I think I'll let you start. I don't want to be too much of a pro and scare you, and it's kinder for the guest to let their host take the lead. ( there's a faint smile, in case it isn't obvious that her confidence, while strong, is gentle in nature, not the sort that will get upset about being proven wrong. )

[ As she picks up a piece and considers it, or maybe her options of what can be done now that the colors on the board are changing to anything but the standard ones, Claude uses it as a chance to study her as well. Her actions read as self-assurance, from sitting down to a game he's still not wholly sure she knows how to play to the (sort of) challenge that he won't get to learn her name without winning a piece first. Whether it's real or not is yet to be seen; then again, with the general range of emotions he tends to switch through as needed, it's not like he has any room to talk.

The pieces changing over to be striped through to match a color she wears is fitting, and Claude spares a brief glance towards the ribbon in question before meeting her gaze once more. Now he can't help but raise an eyebrow whether this is a planned strategy or not. Perhaps he's just leaning too much on what he knows when it comes to figuring someone else out. ]

It is, is it? Someone once told me there's value in not making the first move. Better to not let your opponents see your plans right away, and all that. [ Or 'someone' is Claude. It's almost definitely him who said that and in reference to some of his own plans. ] You're proving your pro status with each tactic.

[ He contemplates the board then with a slight half-smile, running through a list of common strategies it's been too long since he's had a chance to use without anyone to play. Though this likely won't end up being the strictest to the letter game of chess he's ever played, Claude finds he's looking forward to that, to something decidedly different. At the end of his few seconds of pondering, he reaches to nudge a pawn forward and leans an elbow on the arm of his chair to wait for her move. ]

We've covered that I'll have to pass a test before I get to learn your name, but do I get to learn which faction you're from before then or will that be worth something else?

[ Not that he minds if it's the latter. They've got nothing but time on their hands, after all. ]

Oh, so you're the sneaky type... No, I definitely get that vibe.

( it's said in such a cheerful, speculative voice that it's obvious she doesn't mean offense by it--but it is an observation, one that she makes where she's propped an elbow up on the table, now, dangerously close to the edge of the chessboard. she takes care not to bump it; as much as her gaze moves between the pieces and the man in front of her, she's not entirely sure she could recreate the positioning from memory, and there's only so far her bluffs can take her, especially a second time.

for now, she sets her chin in her hands, watching his hand move across the board. his fingers pluck at one of the front pieces: she imagines that those are like some line of defense, and honestly, in some ways, the man before her talks like someone who knows their way with military and the like. or maybe he just reads a lot of books. it's hard to say.

she considers his request with lips that press together--with a soft hum, she lifts her chin up from her palm, dances fingers across the board, and plucks one of her own little defense pieces from the front row, meeting the stranger's little defense piece head to head.

she seems to stare at them both for a moment, before nodding to herself, as if securing the place of the piece. )

...Hmm, I suppose that's fair. I'm from Solvunn. I don't think you are. ( her hands fold down into her lap, playfully demure. ) Your turn, Prince Bluepiecer.

Well, it's a rather apt vibe if I do say so myself. One might even say my specialty is that sneakiness in so many ways.

[ Not that he's patting himself on the back here or anything. Or - he is just a little since that craftiness led to all kinds of small triumphs he's yet to replicate in Abraxas, so no need to make it his reputation here just yet past what could be easily dismissed as a joking tone and nothing more.

As she moves her own pawn forward to meet his, he glances down at the pieces now facing each other as if having their own conversation while they conduct theirs above it. The nod she gives the board as if wishing it well or good luck causes Claude to hide a smile to himself before she looks up. It's not very successful, mostly since it reappears at the title she bestows on him. ]

I'm royalty now, am I? [ There's more than a little amusement in his tone thanks to that being more entertaining on his end than it has any right to be, but he'll save acting formal for sometime later. Maybe. ] I haven't met many from Solvunn yet as you're right, I'm not from there. The Free Cities are who summoned me here at their whims, though more specifically I'm in Cadens. That makes us as close to neighbors as Abraxas allows for given the state of things.

[ While talking Claude continues to evaluate moves out of chess habits built up from a lifetime of playing and watching others do it. Now, however, he shifts another pawn less in any specific plan and more because it allows him to do the following that much sooner. And purely to entertain himself and with no small amount of mischief present, he'll bow as much as being seated allows him to do with all the flourish of royalty along with, ] I believe it's your turn now, my lady in pink. And perhaps you can tell me a bit about Solvunn as well, though you choose what you'd like that to be.

Edited 2022-09-02 16:58 (UTC)

I never thought of putting it that way... ( --comes the sudden admission, thoughtful, as though his words have some impact on her. ) That the places themselves chose us, rather than us choosing them.

( but it's true, isn't it? perhaps her way of thinking has just been backwards, in some respects; she's never really thought to call the settlements in solvunn home, and perhaps part of that is due to the fact that it always feels like she's drifting between them for jobs or tasks or whatever she can manage to do to help. if solvunn itself is the one that called her, did it do it for some sort of purpose? she's always just assumed that this place was some sort of happenstance, a mistake in the great wheel of fate that they had spun at a whim at the edge of midgar and beyond.

curious, her lips perk up into a smile; there's something contented about the thought, and she appreciates that the stranger himself is the one that brought it up to life. patiently, she waits for him to move a piece--and though she accepts his bow, it's accompanied by a playful seated curtsey, her hands gripping the edges of the skirt of her dress to fan it out as she dips her shoulders down with little movement. )

Why thank you, my lord. ( is that how royalty talks? it makes her laugh, tickled by it, before she reaches her hand to stretch across the board--and with a forlorn sigh, she picks up another pawn. rather than deposit it where it belongs, however, she lifts up one of claude's pawns as well, holding them between her knuckles; the pieces knock together. ) A terrible play on your part, though. By the rules of the Dance Duel, your piece is now mine. He broke his ankle and has to be retired to the castle.

( the bluff sounds believable enough if only because it's so ridiculous--with a shake of her head, she plops her pawn down where claude's piece had been, and she neatly sets his pawn down at the side of the table.

mischievous, her green eyes glint up at him, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand--she imagines this is absolutely not how the game is played at all, but--local rules? )

[ At what she says about the places choosing them and not the other way around, Claude shifts to studying her from the corner of his gaze despite the illusion projected of still studying the board post-quasi-bow. An interesting way to phrase that, he thinks, given that none of them chose to be here. Or so he's thought based on what he's heard; perhaps there's more to that than he knows or what he experienced himself that he's centered so much on while finding his way in the Free Cities.

A familiar enough feeling to go through again, not having much idea or in this case, zero, of where he's going or what he'll find. This time he'd been prepared after arriving and that there were others there who knew exactly what it felt like helped immensely. It seems each faction is different, however, so Solvunn could be something else entirely. He'll have to set that line of thought aside for now as her laugh causes a genuine smile to appear on his face despite his usual rules of filtering reactions through something (or multiple somethings) else, and so does the casual rewriting of chess rules and his pawn meeting a quick end before being swept away.

This is probably a good sign it's not for the best to get mired down in too many thoughts hardly given a chance to begin. ]

That's unfortunate, because I hear as part of the duels there is an actual dance they're all invited to later. Some sort of ball or something close to it - very formal and well-regarded - but maybe there'll be a chair he can sit in to not be left out. [ Claude shrugs with his hands turned up towards the sky as if to say, how unfortunate, as he sits up from slouching back in his chair. ] Though if that's the case, it'd probably also be a kindness to make sure he has some company. Wouldn't want him to feel left out all by his lonesome since that can make it difficult to properly enjoy a party.

[ He is, shamelessly, immediately going to copy her move by bringing a pawn forward to capture hers. But true to his words, Claude places it next to his captured piece much as two wallflowers on the edge of a ballroom floor might stick together. There is something else important to mention, since - ]

I'll leave it up to you to decide whether that earns me getting to know your name, what with copying your pro piecer strategies but I have to say I've always liked collecting chess moves I admire. And if it's not enough, then maybe it can be swapped out for telling me about Solvunn instead. Only whatever you'd like to say about it, that is.

( it shouldn’t surprise her that he seeks to copy her move—especially since she’s almost positive it’s not even a proper move, not even something standard to the game. her hands sit in her lap, poised on her thighs, and she stares at the board, then at the two pieces, as though trying to puzzle out a way to save her own; but it is what it is, and their two pawns sit on the sidelines now, the perfect company for two wallflowers hoping to pass an evening by observation only. so she does the only thing she can do: and laughs, wrinkling her nose slightly as she shakes her head. )

What a marvelous play. I should have prepared for it!

( her lips press out, as though half-disappointed with herself, but a deal is a deal, and before she can lift her hands to inquire about moving another piece, she decides to relent by the terms of their deal. )

But, I guess you’re just as pro as me, huh? Just remember that names have power, your lordship, or whatever I should call you. ( she’s beaming a little, as she lifts up one arm. ) My name is Aerith. Last name, Gainsborough. It’s okay to just call me Aerith, though.

( her hand stretches out across the length of the board: she’s holding it patiently over his pieces, her slender fingers pressed together to offer him a handshake. it isn’t the sort that might be done at the end of a game, as though conceding the victory, but more that it seems polite to introduce herself with proper manners, instead of continuing on with her next play, first. )

Since I won a piece, too, you have to return the favor, right? Or should we just use royal names instead? I kind of like that.

No Lady Gainsborough as a title, then?

[ He's teasing, ever so slightly, all based upon what feels like a polite insistence that first names are more than acceptable. Something which suits him fine considering even made up titles can be unwieldy after a while, and the lack of formality and all its guidelines here has been a welcome change for him. Still, Claude leans forward in his chair to grasp her hand in a firm handshake with a smile. ]

Regardless, you're right that fair's fair - even more so because you won your piece outright whereas I merely borrowed your method to ensure I'd get to know your name. Which is, perhaps, not the best demonstration of fairness on my end. [ As he lets go of Aerith's hand he lifts one shoulder in a vague shrug, unrepentant about that copying as a method to get them to here. ] I'm Claude von Riegan. It's very nice to meet you, Aerith.

[ Claude turns in his seat then like he's recalled something abruptly, as if it isn't just the Horizon's malleable nature at work when he reaches for the tea tray at the edge of the table their chessboard rests on. Somewhere, he thinks wryly, he can hear his mother admonishing him in an echo of lectures from ages ago. There's a chance to make up for it now with offering her something to drink with her choice of Fodlan's teas waiting in the different compartments inside the box. ]

You'll have to forgive me for not offering any tea sooner as I may have been a little too distracted by having someone to finally play chess with to think of it right away. This is all assuming you also drink tea, but you're also welcome to have something else if you'd prefer.

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