Scene Archives

is ready, but is not dressed in his new armor- that’s for hunting. He’s changed into a new silken garb- a black ao dai, its buttoned-seam going down his right breast, the cuffs and collar embroidered with silver, long in the front and back, with high cuts up the side. Over his legs are wide, puffed-out, deeply red pants, tucked into a pair of travelling boots- support on the bottom, laced twice over and partly up the ankle. A silver dragon looms over his left breast, its serpentine body writhing up and over his shoulder, and down his back. From its snout puffs a swirl of silver smoke and fire that caresses the front flap.

has bangs that cover his face, but the rest of his hair is actually tied back into a small bun.

feels impeccably light, and he closes his eyes, channeling the energy of the Queenstown streets through himself. It’s alive. All of it is alive. All of it is living. All of it has its story. And it’s all here, right now, for them.

: “Waiting for me?” she says, a bit of a laugh in her voice. “Or, barely waiting.” She’s also changed into a deep, emerald-green cheongsam cut perilously high on either thigh. The silk is heavily embroidered in birds—sparrows and jays, darker green on darker green on almost black. The edges and closures of the dress are a richly gleaming copper thread, as are the tall heels that give her at least an inch on him. Her hair hangs down in loose curls that frame her face in the front, but the back is pinned up with gleaming copper hairpins. Looped around her arms is a shimmering drape of copper-green fabric, much like the transparent paneling of the dress she wore home to Almachadta. She’s done something with kohl around her eyes, making them more heavily shaded and defined, and her lips are a deep red. At her ears dangle a complex web of copper, garnet, and emerald. She’s smiling, but maybe, even still, a little shy.

turns, and his eyes widen at the sight. His cheeks slightly lid his eyes as his mouth turns into an impeccably greedy smile, a face that says without words, that the next steps he takes are all about her. And so he cuts quickly across the traffic-paved stones, gaze focused not unlike a focused predator. He quickly slinks down and then slithers up, nearly touching face to face, and he wraps an arm around her waist, his other hand interlocking fingers with hers.

: “Now, I can barely wait.” He closes his eyes as he kisses her, holding for a few moments.

kisses him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, allowing him to take what he wants—for a few moments, at least. “Mm we’ll never get anywhere at this rate, and we have a whole city to explore, rakas.” She runs a hand down his chest, appreciating the finery, the craftsmanship, the fact that it is him, before her, entirely hers for this evening.

lets her appreciate, as he does in kind, and continues to hold her hand as he turns to lead them down the street. “Then let’s away, and feast upon all the city has for us!”

: “Did any offered banquet particularly catch your eye, sweet sparrow, or do we hunt on instinct?”

: “Instinct, mostly, though Zaya suggested we start with Spice Row if we so desire, which is right near the Bazaar. Or we could go straight to Adaman District and hunt whatever’s available there—that’s where the wheel is. Prince’s choice?”

: “Mmm, the name itself is compelling. Spice Row. Let us begin there, and then swoop through Sweetheart Sweets Alley, before finding ourselves at the Recreation Station.”

laughs. “Now you’re just making things up,” but she takes her hand and leads him toward Spice Row. She does know where the Bazaar is now. Queenstown is chaotic, but it is strikingly more navigable than the Academy ever was. Possibly due to the giant looming landmarks.

laughs along with her. “I am! Though it was a struggle to be that clever when my mind is erstwhile occupied!” He sneaks a very quick peck on the cheek before continuing- “But still, given the general gist of the theming, I’d say it’s a solid plan.”

blinks a moment. “Clan Saving Worlds?”

: “CLAN SAVING WORLDS!” he calls in response, fist in the air, before nodding to Salme. “Yup! When I went on the hunt for the Matamata, Rohirek of Clan Twitherym asked who I ran with, and…”

: “That’s our name!” He confidently nods.

stares at him for a long, long moment and then says, “Absolutely not.” She appears her tomestone out of the very small silk purse she’s carrying, types something furiously, and tucks it away. “I refuse. You can not choose a name if you must, but we are not naming our clan that.”

stares like a landseal on the tracks trying to comprehend an incoming train. “Eh? Isn’t that what we’re about, though?”

: “Yes. However.” She stops and stares at him. “You cannot tell me you have no sense of poetry, of drama, of … the tantalizing elusive instead of the blindingly obvious. I know you do. You understand that instinctively as breathing.”

considers this, looking up and to the right in thought.

: “Hmm… that’s true!”

: “So, what else we got?”

: “I don’t know! I just found out an intervention was necessary. I messaged Aury in our group strand.” She pulls out her tomestone and checks again. “Hm. He suggests ‘Wildfire’ or ‘Wallflowers’. I’m not sure what you think of that.” She again tucks the tomestone away. “And, honestly, this is meant to be a date—our date—and I want to stay focused on you. The three of us—or the six of us—can argue it out later.”

nods his head side to side. “Something to chew on while we find something to chew on!”

sniffs the air, sensing savory stuff.

scoops her arm through his so she cannot easily check the tomestone in her purse. “Ha. Yes. Zaya suggested the Lucky Barncat restaurant for noodles, or we can let your nose lead the way.”

: “Ooh, that does sound good. And honestly, I’ve found you can practically maneuver through this city with your eyes closed and your heart true!”

: “Shall we check out the Lucky Barncat then? And rely on your true heart for dessert perhaps?”

: “If Zaya suggested it, it must be a worthy spot.”

blinks at the wiggling tentacles for one moment, and shakes her head.

: “I believe it was close to the center of Spice Row if I recall correctly?”

: “That’s where all the flavor settles, clearly!”

: “Though if you wanted a snack first, we could have paused at that cart.”

: “Oh. Would you like to? Anything you wish, my prince.”

though she doesn’t wait to pull an about face and purchase a boat of the fried tentacle delicacy. She spears one with a toothpick and offers it up for him to eat.

: “I think the eye drew and the heart gave form- let’s split one, so as not to spoil the main course.” He draws her in closer, taking her arm, guiding her back to the cart with the compelling, working advertisement, and–

: “Mm! My gratitude is yours, Princess Salme!” He takes a bite!

laughs a little. “Not a princess. Never that. Just your Salme.” She watches his face to see what he thinks of the … whatever these are.

chews… it’s chewy, and a little salty, but the breading gives it a solid housing to wrestle the tongue with, and the ground spices on top? The tongue revels!

swallows before replying. “It’s tasty! Heartily spiced and fried, breaded tentacle.”

: “Hmm.” She pops one into her mouth as well and chews carefully. “Land kraken is delicious, apparently.” She grins at him and offers him another—there were four in the boat, two for each of them.

accepts it, and gives it a dip in a chunky red sauce before consuming. Now it’s savory and sauced!

is a little leery of strange sauces, but gives it a try as well. “Hmm,” she says, savoring this bite as well. “I see your heart lead us not astray.”

: “I must boast of your own boldness, immediately turning and engaging the concept!”

: “Well,” she says, a little softly, “You do love it when I’m bold, and I’ve found I enjoy being bold.”

smiles at that, bringing her closer, his guiding arm with hands clasped, and he pats her clasped hand with his other.

leans in to his touch and enjoys the opportunity to look down at him—if only from an inch or two.

: “You flourish and burn with equal energy and love. I dare say they feed on one another, with a little outside stoking as well.” He winks.

: “You’re just cheating off what the Glory said,” she accuses, but more to accuse than out of any conviction. “Find us the Lucky Barncat, rakas?”

chuckles. “I witnessed you take control of a synthesis of your own creation, an island in a world of islands, and give it a name, and it sang to us. I cheated by simply being there.”

starts focusing all his senses now on looking for signs, literal and metaphorical, of the Lucky Barncat.

: “Amazing! It’s less messy than having the butcher’s table be at the center, and no less hypnotizing!” He’s pretty sure there’s a barbeque place here that does that…

laughs, and requests the most private table she can see, pressing a lucre into a paw for the favor of a quiet, well-fortified spot that nonetheless grants a great view of the noodle-making process. “The feline metahumans around here … do you know if they have a specific name, like the kushtaka of Samudra, or is just ‘metahuman’ correct?” She asks him in a low voice.

nods knowingly, settling in next to her. “They are called… Felynes!”

blinks. “Really?”

: “Yup! Really!” He looks up to the sky, and thinks, that you’ve got his back on this one, right?

narrows her eyes. “I can see that, you know.”

shrugs. “But, you are beloved of the gods, so that probably is within your purview. To speak a small truth into being.”

grins at her. “I wasn’t particularly hiding it, no. But I’m reasonably certain it’ll work out like that.”

: “Would you say it’s within my… purr-view?” He waggles his eyebrows.

rolls her eyes. “Yes, my prince,” she says in a somewhat exasperated voice, but her eyes are shining. “Order for us?” she says, twirling one loose strand of hair around her finger, just looking at him. Enjoying the view, really.

smiles, and turns to the waiter muujgai- orders a spicy lapinion chashu, fried broccolini, seasoned egg, dried seaweed, and crispy fried garlic in noodles for her, and a spicy bluffalo cashu, seasoned veggies, green onion, seasoned egg, crispy fried garlic, and triple-colored pepper in noodles for himself. Two small glasses of water, but also two dry ales.

grins at him. “Good taste. Or at least that sounds delicious.”

: “I assume it will be.”

she leans forward, propping her elbow up on the table, resting her chin in the cradle of her hand. “It’s been … some time, I think. Since it was just us.”

: “Truly, truly so.” He reaches out to idly caress her elbow with a thumb, resting the side of his face on a fist. “I’d say that last time… was the Library? Or the lecture hall?” He grins, conspiritorially.

: “Then there was the prepping for the cookout…”

laughs brightly. “Yes, the last time it was just us we were inflicting alcohol crimes on Almachadta.” She looks at him, then, perhaps leaning forward a bit, intent. “How have you been since? A lot has happened. Too much, maybe, to catch up on in one meal.”

: “Mmm, well…”

: “I’ve been trying to stay focused, while also having fun, you know?”

: “There’s not many who’ve had the opportunity we’ve had to tour worlds! Yeah… our circumstances may be quite critical and dire, and all…”

: “I mean, that’s why we do what we do,”

: “But I’m also trying to fill myself with the bounty of those worlds, as we do so. In part because most of it is pretty new to me, even if it feels familiar, but…”

: “I love… being here. With you. With everyone. It’s sour and heartbreaking and colorful and joyful and tragic all the same.”

: “Would that there be less suffering… sure. That’s what we’re fighting for. But that’s not how it currently is.” He sighs slowly, through his nose. “So until then, I will revel with the suffered, entreat with the beleagured, laugh with the despaired.”

looks at him for a long moment. Their food comes, set before them, steaming, delicious, strange and familiar, and she does not break her gaze, even as she makes room on the table, even as she offers a polite thank you for the dishes, the chopsticks, the water, the ale. She looks at him, drinks him, and finally says, carefully, “I think that is the best possible way forward. Strange, isn’t it? To find delight when there’s so much darkness. When the stakes are so high. But among the virtues, suffering is not one. It’s best we find delight where we can. Or make it, if we can’t find it.”

snaps apart chopsticks, teasing his noodles a bit. There’s still something on his mind, which is obvious from how he starts, and then stops, and then teases the noodles a bit more.

: “Tell me what you’re thinking, Sinitöyhtönärhi.” She says. And then, intentionally, she says, “Please?”

: “I’ve been thinking about what you said, how things have been ‘easy.’ Which, I do agree- our providence with strangers is unparalleled.”

: “But the solutions to the worlds…”

shakes his head. “I have multitudes of ideas, but somehow I think they’re all… just not quite there yet. There’s something they’re not reaching.”

: “There’s us, on the ground. There’s the Sages and Sparks, bearing witness from the peanut gallery. And then inbetween there’s something that neither quite knows.”

: “Something that I would wager even the narrator doesn’t know, until they see it.”

eats some noodle with a slice of bluffalo. (It’s SO tender.)

tilts her head, considering. “‘Who is the third who walks always beside you?’” She quotes, somewhat thoughtlessly. “There’s something else, I’d agree. And while things have been kind, even silmät conceded that difficult things await us.” She touches her small, silken purse, which contains, alongside the tomestone, the Mask. “I have been trying to replace worry with determination, you know. With belief. With trust. I’ve been reflecting. Thinking.” She too takes a large bite of noodles. ⁂

slurps up some more noodles, but elegantly. ⁂

finishes her bite, and looks at him. “To that end I actually wanted to … hm. Apologize for something?” She looks down into her noodles. “I … we’ve had multiple points of tension. Where I claimed that you had failed to understand me, when what I had actually been doing was let my insecurities get in the way of my seeing you.” ⁂

: “That was wrong, and that was cruel, and I. I promise to do better, to see you for who you are, and not who I fear you to be.” And then she takes another, very large, bite of noodles. 🙧

gently smiles, eyes radiating a sense of comfort. “Thank you, beloved sparrow. Salme. I could protest that any such bruises are barely an inconvenience to me, forgotten about in an hour’s time, but I also must be kind and mindful to the relationship itself.”

: “I feel almost right the jerk for even asking the next bit, but if your prince has maligned you in any way, please, illuminate to me my sins, I shall repair, make amend, and restitute the future’s bounty threefold.”

laughs a little. “You haven’t, I don’t think. Sometimes. Sometimes I feel like. You think I’m stupid? Or maybe I just worry you think I’m stupid. That’s not fair. It’s just. You’re brilliant, and I struggle to follow you. But I do think I’m smart in my own way, and not just with people. Even with this big complex concepts. I think I do something to add.”

: “And instead of getting in my head about it, maybe I should just ask what you think face-up, you know. Like you always want me to.”

nods knowingly. “The captain of a ship is wise, cunning, and fearsome in their own right. Yet even the saltiest seadog weighs the crew’s insight.”

: “And in addition to your way with people, and your conceptualization of complex concepts, but that you follow through on ideas and plots for both!”

: “Such schemes have reaped bounties multiple times over.”

raises her eyebrows. “Oh. Now that the pirate thing is out there you’re going all-in on it aren’t you?” She eats a tender piece of lapinion chashu, letting it melt in her mouth.

takes a big drink of ale and wipes his mouth with a cloth. “Okay, you saw that hull, right?”

: “It’s begging to soar the skies.”

: “A power source, a wing to catch the wind.”

raps his knuckles on the table. “The quest has begun, vigilant sparrow.”

: “It seemed like Wolf might have an idea about the wind.” She tilts her head at him. “And it seems like it might behoove you to speak with Wolf anyway.”

nods, serious. “Neither of us will leave Queenstown alive without that solution.”

laughs hard enough she gets a bit of noodle sauce up her nose, and then has to sneeze into her napkin. “Oh. Yes. Please. Make it sound like a threat,” she says, eyes watering—but mascara not running, because you can do a lot of little tricks with gnosis if you’re vain enough.

laughs into taking a bite of the egg and a sizable bit of noodles- you can hear him still chuckling with a mouth and throat full of food.

grins at him, and works at her food as well. After some companionable silence, she has a mostly empty bowl and a completely empty glass of ale. “So. Giant wheel in the Adaman District?” she asks.

: “Giant wheel.” He finds the Lucre to pay the bill (it’s up his sleeve!), finishing off his water before they stand.

holds out her hand for his arm expectantly once the bill is settled and they’re stood up.

laughs and tucks herself close to him as they ride the tram. She doesn’t seem like she’ll ever get tired of these, at least.

hooks her hand into his arm, and escorts them both out of Spice Row, steadying them both in the tram ride, and guides them along the straight streets… mostly straight, every now and then something in an alley will catch his eye, and they’ll journey over, but eventually, all streets lead to Adaman District.

absolutely has to pause at this one confection stand though- with fried dough processed through a funnel, topped with powdered sugar…

: “(Have to shield ourselves with gnosis to avoid ruining the clothes for this one!)”

laughs at that, but frowns at the confection. “That looks exceptionally sweet.” She says it with a fair bit of judgment, yes, and hesitation.

feeds Salme careful, bitesized pieces of the dough, guiding the errant powder away from their bodies and into mouths instead.

chews carefully, and does savor it, but. “Still a bit too sweet. Something tart would help, I think? At least for my taste.” She smiles at him. “Though watching you enjoy it is plenty for me.”

winks at her and finishes it off before they reach the gigantic wheel.

: “Even at a distance, this was enormous.” He wipes the corner of his mouth with a thumb. “Let’s find where to enter.” And he moves, almost like he does know where it is.

: “What does it cost? My boyfriend and I would like to take a turn. If it’s not too busy, I’ll pay extra for an extra moment at the top.”

stifles a laugh. “Salme! (I already bribed them before we got here!)” he stage whispers.

: “(Criminal behavior),” she murmurs to him. “(And from royalty no less).”

settles in, arm in arm, with Salme, rubbing shoulders, nuzzling foreheads. “(Cheat at cards, cheat at romance.)”

: “(Pirate prince, I suppose),” she says, kissing the corner of his mouth.

does spare a moment to keep her forehead flush against his, before the miracle of the wheel is enough that she has to turn and stare. “Oh. It’s beautiful.”

hand squeezes hers, staying nestled close together even as they both turn to enjoy the view.

tries not to think too hard about shells and shards, about anything but the exact moment, Awoken beside her, nameless and named, the dry air, her heartbeat. The fact that it almost feels infinite, like the wheel could climb and climb and climb and never need to come down.

is only concerned with Salme next to him, the enveloping cover and shade from the gondola they ride in, and the world turning below. He likes to think that right now, it turns just for them.

sees that and snorts. She’s pretty sure she knows who that someone is. “So,” she drawls. “Who’s a more annoying spotlight-stealer. Jorule or Stings-and-Kills?”

tries to suppress a laugh and it just comes out as a stuttering snort instead. “They’re both show-offy and ridiculous, but I mean, at least [The Scorpion and the Frog] was really funny to get hit with.”

: “(Maybe Jorule has a secret final attack he hasn’t shown us yet!)”

: “(I bet he does and I bet the annoying this is it’s probably actually cool).” She does sound lightly annoyed at that.

’s breath catches in her throat, her words—all of them, every single one—snatched away. She stares, and stares, and stares.

giggles excitedly and expectantly, bunching up closer to Salme, eyes gleaming at the dazzling display of gunpowder and skillfully applied metal salts.

thinks of stars, her first time seeing them, and flowers, so common she stopped noticing them, and fire, and all of here, now, in some strange and beautiful display at the top of a beautiful world next to someone she loves, she loves, she loves.

has this habit of crying when she’s overwhelmed—not just with sadness, but with joy. She blinks away the wetness in her eyes—would hate to watch this magic through blurred vision—and then looks at Awa. “Did you do this?” she asks softly.

can’t remember the last fireworks display he saw, or even if he’s ever seen one, but the one he’s watching now has got to be the best one yet. It’s got style. It’s got timing. His beloved, by his side. There’s several whole worlds out there but right now, this is the only one that matters.

: “I did,” he answers as heartfelt as she was soft.

wonders, for a moment, if he’s telling her a fairy tale, but decides, in this moment, that she doesn’t care if he is. That maybe she gets a little bit of a fairy tale now and then. The good kind. “Thank you.” And though it’s a crime, she looks away from the display long enough to kiss him reasonably deeply.

appreciates the clarification.

kisses back, and again, and again and again, and who only knows how much time has passed. Eventually, as it seems the fireworks are dying down, he places a finger on her cheek.

: “And now, for the wildest ride. Hold on tight, sweet sparrow.” His arm moves to wrap around her waist, and his grip is very firm-

with complete trust, she wraps her arms around his waist in turn.

turns his head and puts two fingers in his mouth, and whistles four times- low, high, high, low….

tries not to ruin the surprise, but. Her pattern recognition is very, very good and she’s already grinning wildly.

invokes the tenebrous gnosis that’s been quietly welling up around them, and takes flight.

laughs and laughs and laughs, and kisses him again, because what else is there to possibly do? “You’re—“ impossible, a miracle, these are all things she’s called him, but instead she just says, “you,” helplessly, smitten, wholly and lovingly.

’s chest is filled with love and joy, and he can’t help himself but laugh proudly at all accomplished and expressed. Even with her inch in heels on him, he lifts her in a double-armed hug, unable to tear his gaze away from her swooning, beloved face.

: “I love you too, Salme.”