🌸 be not defeated by the rain 🌸

[passthrough]

🌸WHO: Otegine and many others
🌸WHAT: Closed prompts for hurricane + cleanup, open threads for bonus AC effects
🌸WHEN: Summer 16 - Summer End
🌸WHERE: Various
🌸WARNINGS: mild NSFW conversation

Called useless by all
Neither praised
Nor a bother
Such is the person
I wish to be
Hit up plotting or my contacts if you would like a closed starter!

Comments

closed - syrlya/owen, syrowe farm, summer 16

[passthrough]

[The storm is fast approaching, and most of the work is done. The delicate crops are as protected as they can manage, the windows boarded up, the chickens moved in from the coop. What little they have to do is simple... too bad they're both still coming off a nasty hangover.

The rain's already started, with whipping wind and a low howling noise through the trees up from the beach further down the island. Otegine's getting drenched, but he still shoves the last handful of supplies from the coop up past the porch. Syr's taken care of the birds, and more power to him - Otegine's fine with the last of the manual labor.]

That's the last of it! I don't want to try for more, it's already getting nasty out here! [It's practically yelled above the wind as he braces the doorway with his back and shoves the last of their supplies through.] Man, kind of late to wish we had some hollyhock to hang from the roof, huh...

[He just wants to get inside and get the door bagged up and sit it out...

Except something catches his eye. Someone out in the rain.

Otegine pauses, squinting, trying to see which way the stranger is headed, seeing if they're rushing for shelter. But then he recognizes said stranger... and a pit forms in his stomach.]

Syr... Syrlya, hold on. H-hold on, somebody's stuck out here. I'll be right back!!

[Time to go rescue an angry cat.]

--

[ooc: feel free to post freely amongst ourselves here, jump the timeline, kiss the chickens, etc. THIS IS GONNA BE A TENSE SLEEPOVER...]

closes my eyes

[sicklysweet]

[Not being able to read posted warnings and being so antisocial as to ignore the gossip of the locals means while Owen is aware of the weather shifting, he doesn't quite anticipate the storm that rolls in. Honestly, it's not even a storm he's particularly used to considering it doesn't rain in the North, and Central is pretty dry and mild... This is the sort of weather you'd find in the other corners of the continent, and he doesn't make a habit of going there for no reason.

At least Cerberus is tucked safely away, Owen privately pleased that his suitcase and his dog returned to him at the same time, but now he needs to... get back to the forest while it's pouring rain and it only seems to be getting worse... on his feet, without his broom... Maybe he'll just die and wait for the storm to pass?

It only gets more tempting when he realizes there's someone very tall and very familiar approaching him. Ah.]

What are you doing out here?

[sir this is his farm you're the weird one here]

opens them back up for u

[passthrough]

Shouldn't I be asking you that??

[His voice is slightly elevated, if only to try to talk over the wind. Otegine's very obviously soaked, so it looks like he's been out in this for at least a little while, but what excuse did Owen have??]

Owen, this storm's going to hit the coast any second, this isn't a good time to be wandering around to other people's property!

Did something happen? Are you alright?

:screm:

[sicklysweet]

I was walking my dog.

[Which isn’t currently visible, but Owen isn’t about to explain his pocket dimension suitcase. That would be silly.

He huffs.]

Nobody killed me after that “meeting”, so you don’t need to worry about me.

[Said as sarcastically as possible, because as far as Owen is concerned Otegine concern is all just for show. He’s finally getting him to crack and hate him just like everyone else, which is totally fine.]

How bad can this storm possibly be, anyways?

[chronosynthesis]

[It turns out that day drinking is a terrible idea, and even into the next day Syrlya is nursing an awful headache. The weather really isn't helping.

He's leaning in the doorway as Otegine pushes the supplies up, pulling in anything they really don't want blown away to sit in the entryway until it's over. He's about to make room for Otegine to squeeze in, but--] Someone's stuck?

[He squints into the distance, but ultimately lets Otegine handle it himself, keeping watch from the door in case anything goes wrong until Owen has finally been brought up to the house. ... Right. That's the guy that dragged Otegine into a kiss, isn't it. And also doesn't have a heartbeat.

Well, it's true they can't really well leave him out there. So there's no argument from Syrlya about letting him stay as the hurricane winds start to pelt the door, and he'll head for the kitchen to put a kettle to boil to prepare all of them some tea.]

[passthrough]

[Whenever Otegine finally drags their stowaway inside and Owen has successfully locked himself in the bathroom to have chicken gossip, Otegine's in a fairly odd mood, expression flat and motions tight as he shuffles back into the kitchen in a fresh pair of clothes, hair still sticking to his face in places from the rain despite how vigorously he seems to have toweled it off. Right now, he doesn't seem to care.

Wherever Syrlya's cooped himself up, Otegine will try to slide up to him at least enough to get within earshot, dropping his voice down with a look closer to a kicked puppy than anything else, trained on the floorboards.]

...Thank you. I couldn't just leave him out there.

[chronosynthesis]

The weather is getting dangerous quickly. It would have been wrong to let him roam. [So, he understands.] I should be asking if you are all right, given your... awkward confrontation the other day.

[passthrough]

[It's later in the evening when Syrlya's possibly decided to turn in for a bit that Otegine makes sure to start up a small fire among the brick. As dried off as he's managed for the two of them, he knows he's still chilled, and Owen must not feel much better. Plus, their clothes will need all the help they can get to dry off while the storm shakes the building. Whether Owen will want to participate is another story, but... the least Otegine can do is try.

Once that's started up and crackling steadily, the Touken circles back to the bedroom, grabbing the comforter under one arm before trying to figure out where Owen's run off to. Please let the birds sleep, Owen, you can't talk to them forever...]

[sicklysweet]

[He likes the chickens, though… They’re cute and pettable and he would rather talk with them then Otegine and Syrlya. (Not that there’s anything wrong with Syrlya… It’s just how it is, and being stuck in Otegine’s ridiculous clothing doesn’t help his desire to socialize. He looks like an idiot.)

It does make him easy to find, at least, sitting on the floor of the bathroom with the chickens huddled around him. And on him. Owen’s holding what seems like a one-sided conversation with them, pausing every so often, but he’s keeping his voice low so it’s unlikely Otegine can pick up much of what he’s saying. He goes silent as soon as he notices Otegine, though, scowling even if he keeps petting the chicken in his lap.]

What do you want?

[He was having girl talk? Why’s he being interrupted?]

[passthrough]

[He blinks, looking at the duo of chickens piled on top of Owen.]

...I'm, uh... not interrupting anything, am I?

closed - ori - morning of summer 16

[passthrough]

[Thank goodness she's so easy to spot! The weather is already starting to get a little gross looking, but they should have plenty of time to gather some last minute things. Otegine's got the sleeves of his shirt rolled up past the shoulders, an extra tarp already in hand when he spots Ori and waves high over his head.]

Oriphi! Hey, over here!

[hearthwarming]

[ She is so easy to spot, and also she is so very wobbly right now... She might be on her way to the clinic?? ]

Mister Otegine...? Ah, please call me Ori...!

[passthrough]

[Ohhh boy, that doesn't look good. His brow knits at her unsteady approach, a hand tentatively held out to her.]

Woah, woah... you okay?

The liquor didn't get too much for you yesterday afternoon, did it?

[hearthwarming]

[ That offered hand is appreciated, and duly taken. Ori huffs a sad little laugh that just trails off into a momentary silence... ]

I had way too much. I couldn't get home by myself...

closed - pyra - summer 19

[passthrough]

[He gives it a couple days, letting the floodwaters die down and keeping their energies towards helping the town and repairing their own properties. But he could use a break... and he thinks, maybe, so could Pyra. He'll take a moment on the 18th to wave her down, just to see if the day works for her.

It's about noon on the 19th when he circles to her farm, adjusting his clothing as he clears his throat and knocks on the door. Worse case scenario, it's just her housemate, right? So man, why is he so nervous...]

[flamenova]

[ well. she did make a big deal about keeping her schedule free. so of course, when otegine comes by her farm to confirm that the 19th will be okay, she doesn't even need to look at the calendar in her room to say that the date is okay...

only for her to promptly run up to her room and bury her face in her pillow for a little while, in hopes of cooling down the heat on her cheeks. so much to prepare...

but when otegine knocks on the door, she steels her nerves, even though she feels like her face is going to fry. she's dressed much more comfortably than usual, though: gone is her deep red outfit with its odd plating, and in its place is a breezy blue sundress, floral patterned and easy on the eyes...though the bright green crystal on her chest is still prominent, glowing as brightly as her cheeks are pink.

the straw hat on her head does very little to hide the nervousness in her eyes, despite the wide brim. and even as she opens the door, she keeps one hand around her back, clutching something small in her palm.

one look at his face, and she has to gulp — but in spite of it all, she's got a smile on her face. ]

...Hi, Otegine.

[passthrough]

[Oh.

There's a flush of color to his own face when she comes to the door, all airy movement and gentle fabrics... it fits her, he thinks, for the moment it takes him to realize he's probably staring.

He's not in much different than what he normally wears, though he's swapped out the firey red for something lighter in color that hugs his shoulders, contrasting the deep green of knee-length shorts that someone has finally, graciously found for him in his size. Existing in pants in this heat? Horrible. His spear can be seen to the side of the porch, cautiously placed aside to not be in the way.]

Pyra... Hey...

[She's... really pretty, isn't she? Not that she wasn't already, but it's almost enthralling.]

You, uh... [He smiles easily despite himself, a bashful little expression, breaking his gaze respectfully in a light bow, hastily done.] You look really nice. If... that's okay to say. I don't think I've seen you wear that before.

[flamenova]

O-oh! Um...you really like it? I thought it'd be a little better to wear something comfortable, if we're going to be, ah, walking around a bit...

[ she neglects to mention that she spent the better part of yesterday agonizing over just what kind of outfit is appropriate to wear to something like this. but judging from his expression, that time seems to have been well-spent...

not that she can stare directly at his face for too long -- she looks at him the same way one looks at the sun, just enough to get a sense of it before her eyes shift towards her boots, instead. she finds herself shifting back and forth, gripping at the flat rectangular box in her hand a bit more tightly...before she's suddenly reminded that she's holding it to begin with, and she starts, as if reminded: ]

Before we go...I have just a little something I wanted to give you. [ and she holds out the present to him: it's not wrapped, save for a small ribbon tied around it, but it's a bit hardy...she went out of her way to find a good gift box, nice and thin. ] It's nothing too special, before you get any ideas. I just...wanted to thank you for inviting me today, is all.

sparring thread!! summer 18

[accredit]

[ as they say, sometimes the word "uneventful" was a good thing. considering how tumultuous the hurricane and the aftermath of that was, perhaps, this was all the more established. but, for achilles, it wouldn't be a lie to say that he enjoyed a bit of danger. or a lot depending on who you ask. hence, it isn't surprising that as always, he seems to be all the more interested in the prospect of finding a worthy sparring partner.

after all, it wouldn't do to get rusty, right? it isn't like he thinks skills like that just dissipate overnight, but he'd like to think part of strength and being a hero is the culmination of careful, everyday effort. but, maybe that's just his teacher's words kicking in? whatever the case—

when he sees otegine, just by his build alone, he already waves him down. he seems to look him up and down before giving an approving nod. maybe even a whistle, as if he's impressed. ] I always thought this when I saw you, but you look good. So how about it? [ he holds his hand out, as if to introduce himself. except, he actually hasn't introduced himself at all, so... ]

Want to go for a round?

[passthrough]

[Now that Otegine has his weapon back, it's hard to miss him. If the spear isn't directly with him, it's somewhere pretty close nearby - in this case, chilling outside while he hauls out a bag of chicken feed.

He barely stops at the whistle, though it does give him pause, looking back at Achilles with an almost clueless stare.

He blinks, before looking around him. Nobody else nearby.]

Eh?

[Oh. Oh, that was for him?]

Ahhh... thank you, but... it's nothing really that eyecatching, is it?? [He's tall and has some meat, sure, but isn't he rather plain? Still, he chuckles it off, hoisting the feedbag to one shoulder and grabbing for that extended hand, expecting a shake.]

I guess it depends what you mean by a round. Do you h... [Oh, wait a second. He knows this guy...] Oh! H-hey, hey, you're that one that won the goddess' competition, right? Uh.... shoot, don't tell me, don't tell me... [jeopardy music in the background as he very intensely tries to focus, practically bouncing when it clicks with a snap of his fingers towards Achilles.]

--Ah! Rider, right?

[accredit]

[ the spear definitely captures his attention, but he does his best to stay more focused on the (potential) rival in question. it looks like he might have caught him off-guard, but at least he seemed quick on the uptake?

even if does take him a second to get his name. ] I think it is. You can always tell a warrior by how they carry themselves, isn't that right? [ ... and if he was wrong, that'd be another conversation completely, but he'd like to think he possessed at least that level of discernment. he could be relatively careless in... what some may argue the most imperative moments, but that was separate from his fight instinct.

but, he seems to smile once the other man puts two and two together. ] The one and only! [ except, not in fate-verse, but here? he thinks he's the only rider. ] Though, not sure how I feel about being remembered for that. [ he didn't even get to fight... anyone. ]

[passthrough]

Mn... no, that makes sense. You can pick out the confident ones in a crowd pretty easy. [He just wouldn't consider himself a confident one... but it's still nice to have a conversation be so immediately skewed towards combat, anyway.]

I don't think it's a bad thing. You impressed the goddess by being capable, that's all. I don't think that's an easy task, given her standards.

Nice to meet you. Call me Otegine. [His smile quirks, a little cheeky and boyish.] And you got it right. I'm not really made for this whole farming thing, but I can't be beat for piercing with a spear.

If you're wanting to help keep me sharp, I wouldn't mind your time at all.

Closed - Owen - Morning after the Auction

[passthrough]

[Wow, what a nice day. Otegine's in no rush to wake up, mentally exhausted from the night before with the cooled weight of another body making a restful sleep come easier for once in his life. But the space is small, and Owen can only be "Owen" for so long.

Owen will find a familiar bedroom, a cramped little twin bed with a tall and familiar form snoozing away underneath him, having only shed his shirt for sleep. Syrlya, perhaps graciously, does not seem to be home.

Too bad that doesn't explain how he got there!]

[sicklysweet]

[Owen isn't used to waking up feeling warm - he's constantly cold, after all, his circulation not what one would consider amazing on account of... not having any. He also knows that there's something missing, too, having no idea when he even settled down for bed... but would it really be so bad to lay here, listening to the beating of someone's heart and enjoy the comfort of being curled up on someone... which absolutely isn't normal.

So sorry, Otegine, if he takes an elbow to the side as Owen flails upright and tips off the bed that definitely wasn't made to fit two grown men in it. At least he wasn't already sore, so hitting the ground isn't that bad. (He's also not sure if the fact he's not aching is better or worse, because there's only a few things that could explain why he doesn't remember last night, and he doesn't feel hungover.)]

[passthrough]

[The brunette chokes out a garbled sound at the prod to the ribs, jostling awake as Owen rolls right onto the floor. His hair is disheveled and his expression is hazy and disoriented with the adrenaline of being startled out of a deep sleep.]

Wha--

[Ah. Someone's on the floor. Clarity comes back to him in stages - first subtle, then openly worried, fumbling to get his legs untangled from the small frame.]

Owen... Owen, hey, are you alright? [Would the scared, meek Owen cry when startled or hurt? He's not sure.]