(open!) 01. i wish that i was just a cloud

[wolfslayer]

WHO: Willem & you
WHAT: Them apples, that ale. Possibly some talk of phylacteries and adjacent unpleasantness.
WHEN: July 2018
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Dragons and things!

closed to aro;

[possibly, willem had thought that focusing on apples would dissuade aro from prematurely introducing his fearsome draconian companion. no, that's definitely what he thought.

but there are worse things than befriending a bit of a coward, aren't there? there's a tree in full ripeness, her boughs bent low under the weight of her bright new decor, and a basket set up expectantly beneath. willem is holding a fucking crossbow, because of course he is. his spiky armor and magical sword are a bit at odds with the indolent demeanor about him right now, but that's hardly unexpected; he's the kind of fellow who will go away on missions to play healer, miss out on a lot of political drama. then come back and range out to the brink of bandit territory to gather apples.

with a crossbow. and a hip flask of raspberry cordial wine.]

Hello, Aro. [he brightens upon seeing the half-elvish.] I tend to find shooting things that aren't trying to kill you is quite enjoyable, no matter what sort of mood you're in.

open;

[darktown isn't where you go if you're of any decent repute, but these days, it seems like the rifters aren't at risk of being tarred with a flattering brush. willem might be found there, starting ever so slightly mysterious cookfires for those who are struggling for themselves, or run a peculiar little laundry for dignity's sake. he doesn't talk about magic much, but when he does, inevitably the conversation goes to whispers.

never mind the maniacal warlock interest. underneath it all, the compulsion's always there.

but there's a lot of 'all' to hide under, really. lowtown might not be a vast improvement over darktown, but there are proper taverns, drinks and food one might purchase with the hard-earned pay from missions away. you might best him at darts or listen to an increasingly embellished tale about the size and deranged anatomy of the demons that were slain by people other than himself. he'd be a good wingman, if there were anyone who needed flying.]

Comments

Me!

[sorcerised]

[ If Willem had been hoping this encounter would be dragonless, he's about to be disappointed. Flapping along at shoulder height beside Aro is a dragon hatchling, only a few months old, with yellowish scales just barely tinged with green. She hasn't quite grown into her bronze yet. Iessa regards Willem with a curious eye, but stays closely beside Aro, having been well warned not to show off to this one. When Willem turns to speak, Aro puts up his hand to touch Iessa's chin and remind her not to get too excited. ]

Are you going to shoot the apples? [ He says, sounding somewhat dubious. There's a crossbow strapped to his own pack, but he's holding his staff at the moment. He comes closer, and Iessa drops down to the ground beside him, head lifted and making a sound somewhat like a purr. ]

I can think of easier ways to get them down, although I'm not opposed...

Anyway, come and say hello to Iessa first! She wants to meet you.

[ Or more accurately Aro wants them to meet, and remove any element of fear. ]