openish ☓ i see god in birds and satan in long words

[libratus]

WHO: Ilias, Max, & maybe you???
WHAT: A catch-all post for November
WHEN: Firstfall, pre-Ghislain
WHERE: Various
NOTES: Warning: dead bodies & dissection etc. in the mummy thread. Feel free to toss a wildcard starter on, or hit me up on plurk or PM if you want to hash something out! Ilias's October prompts are still roughly applicable, as are the hooks in their respective info pages.

Comments

[libratus]

It has been a little while since he's done this. Walking. Smiling at the conspicuous brush of a shoulder. Enjoying a moment with another living person that isn't measured in the number of steps it takes to cross a tavern. Three years? Longer? It feels a little like cracking the rust off his bones to fall into step with Isaac, but he does.

Below, Kirkwall's less well-kept streets make for an odd fit. Ilias is all clean lines, tidy angles cast against mismatched cobblestones and stray cats. But there are fewer eyes on a set of foreign robes down here, and that seems to suit him fine.

"Not all of them. Why, are we shopping?"

How charmingly normal.

[wythersake]

Cheerfully:

"I’ve heard a great deal about that —"

As though he hasn’t been out of the Circle four years. As though there weren’t outings to the market, with Montsimmard less tense (as though he’d any money then either).

"— We might consider it a hunt. See where the trail leads us."

Past this guy here, hawking figurines of the Champion; another, taking the dictation of letters. Smoke and fish, a stray chicken,

And two rushing children, small and caked to the knees in dirt, one shoving in front of the other with hands extended up, a length of brightly-coloured wrapping cord within.

"Messere," To Ilias, already reaching for his wrist. "Help me show something to my brother."

Isaac looks about to open his mouth; stops.