Syrlya | The Commander (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chronosynthesis) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crescentview2022-12-27 05:40 pm
chronosynthesis) wrote in crescentview2022-12-27 05:40 pm
[OPEN]
WHO: Syrlya and You
WHAT: Syrlya gets cursed, and then has one bad day after another so he runs away to the hotsprings
WHEN: ~few days after the spring dance until last day of spring. Closed prompts through end of Summer
WHERE: The farm, around town, the hotsprings
WARNINGS: There is NSFW in these parts
[Do Not Agitate the Goddess (mute) | Edge of the Woods + His Farm]
[Syrlya gave it a few days, at least didn't confront the Goddess about her questionable habits at the dance itself. It doesn't go terribly well.
He marches away from the pond, his expression is twisted into a scowl and fists balled. Anyone who crosses his path in the immediate aftermath is met with irritation, and then a pointed turn of his face away as he marches down the path.
After a few hours he's had some time to cool off--though he's still sulking, toiling on his farm ripping up weeds and pushing new seeds into the dirt. If they didn't have to do this to eat, he'd let this goddess know right where she can--]
[Twice cursed (blind) | Other people's farms]
[Luckily, going mute only lasts for a day, and then it's back to normal. For a couple days, at least. Until he wakes one morning to the room being strangely dark, like the sun itself was snuffed out--no, but it isn't the sun that's the problem. It's his eyes.
The morning is a panic. A level of fear he doesn't often feel as he's suddenly lost the sense most important to him.
The first trip is a stumble to the clinic... unsurprisingly, when dealing with a talking plant it doesn't offer any answers except that they, at least, don't seem to be injured. Nobody there accuses the goddess, but an errant magical effect... Syrlya can only think of one person who is capable.
So, his option is to wait it out for now, see if it clears up on its own. That is... not optimal. But ultimately Syrlya can't find any better options.
Doesn't mean he can't try and do what he needs to. So, using a glittering sword as a makeshift walking stick (watch your feet) Syrlya strides out of the farmhouse.
Or rather, trips out of it, hitting a few walls along the way. And then he's on a truly blind path, tripping and crawling over other people's fences with no real idea of his orientation. Just where he thinks it is. The warmth of the sun isn't helping him as much as he wishes it did.
Anyway. Sorry if he tramples your flowers.]
[Make That Thrice Cursed (table) | The Town]
[The blidnness clears up after two days as if it never happened. So not a malady after all, it seems. So Syrlya goes into town to finish errands he intended to before the weekend. He's just headed down the street with a bag of groceries more varied than the limited vegetables from their garden... when it hits.
A plastic folding end table drops seemingly from thin air and smacks right onto his head. Syrlya buckles with a startled cry, his bag tumbling out of his arms and spilling to the ground.]
((His plotting post is over here if you want a more custom starter or simply something else!))
WHAT: Syrlya gets cursed, and then has one bad day after another so he runs away to the hotsprings
WHEN: ~few days after the spring dance until last day of spring. Closed prompts through end of Summer
WHERE: The farm, around town, the hotsprings
WARNINGS: There is NSFW in these parts
[Do Not Agitate the Goddess (mute) | Edge of the Woods + His Farm]
[Syrlya gave it a few days, at least didn't confront the Goddess about her questionable habits at the dance itself. It doesn't go terribly well.
He marches away from the pond, his expression is twisted into a scowl and fists balled. Anyone who crosses his path in the immediate aftermath is met with irritation, and then a pointed turn of his face away as he marches down the path.
After a few hours he's had some time to cool off--though he's still sulking, toiling on his farm ripping up weeds and pushing new seeds into the dirt. If they didn't have to do this to eat, he'd let this goddess know right where she can--]
[Twice cursed (blind) | Other people's farms]
[Luckily, going mute only lasts for a day, and then it's back to normal. For a couple days, at least. Until he wakes one morning to the room being strangely dark, like the sun itself was snuffed out--no, but it isn't the sun that's the problem. It's his eyes.
The morning is a panic. A level of fear he doesn't often feel as he's suddenly lost the sense most important to him.
The first trip is a stumble to the clinic... unsurprisingly, when dealing with a talking plant it doesn't offer any answers except that they, at least, don't seem to be injured. Nobody there accuses the goddess, but an errant magical effect... Syrlya can only think of one person who is capable.
So, his option is to wait it out for now, see if it clears up on its own. That is... not optimal. But ultimately Syrlya can't find any better options.
Doesn't mean he can't try and do what he needs to. So, using a glittering sword as a makeshift walking stick (watch your feet) Syrlya strides out of the farmhouse.
Or rather, trips out of it, hitting a few walls along the way. And then he's on a truly blind path, tripping and crawling over other people's fences with no real idea of his orientation. Just where he thinks it is. The warmth of the sun isn't helping him as much as he wishes it did.
Anyway. Sorry if he tramples your flowers.]
[Make That Thrice Cursed (table) | The Town]
[The blidnness clears up after two days as if it never happened. So not a malady after all, it seems. So Syrlya goes into town to finish errands he intended to before the weekend. He's just headed down the street with a bag of groceries more varied than the limited vegetables from their garden... when it hits.
A plastic folding end table drops seemingly from thin air and smacks right onto his head. Syrlya buckles with a startled cry, his bag tumbling out of his arms and spilling to the ground.]
((His plotting post is over here if you want a more custom starter or simply something else!))
no subject
Here. [ The cloth, first. ] You may use the shower if you so desire after, but better to get it off sooner than later.
[ Cum is just no fun, my dude... ]
You can have the other when you've the confidence you can hold it and not drop it.
no subject
Thank you. [He takes the towel absently as he regards the cum in particular with a fascination. That's a human body fluid he's never seen before, and he didn't really have a mental picture of what it was like. Thicker, sticky.
He adjusts his sitting position to wipe his front clean, hands only a little shaky. Once it's wiped enough, he carefully folds the towel so that only the clean side is around the perimeter.]
Perhaps a quick rinse if it isn't trouble. [Just so no residue sticks to his clothes when he gets dressed. He takes the glass of water, cradling it with both hands and steadily draining it.]
... I--suppose we should check our cards. I don't imagine it would not have counted. But.
no subject
The downsides... ]
I would not have offered if it was, I assure you.
[ Most of his encounters do not end off on such positive, or at least alive, notes, so might as well not ruin anything.
The request makes him pause, but he mulls it over for a second before leaning to snatch up his garters off the floor with the soft clink of metal. A pop of the clasp and unfolding of the card itself, and he stares at it for a brief second before humming. ]
It seems it did. For me, at least.
no subject
Oh, good. [He glances around for his coat, then drops to one knee to fish through the pocket and pull out his own card.]
It seems these also are enough marks to qualify.
[Not that he would object to a round two, all things considered... but maybe not so immediately after.
He gradually collects his clothes, bundling them haphazardly except for his boots.] These houses seem to be about the same layout, so I believe I can find your shower.]