Roleplay

@Lurch

Returning to his fortress from the Southern Icefields was...draining. It's a strange feeling for Myrddin; usually, returning to the safety of the sharp spires and crashing waves is comforting and invigorating, his essence and energy twined into the building blocks of every room and stone.

This time, he felt a bit like he'd been scraped out. Weary and a little disappointed. It left him confused and frowning, standing in his study with every feather on end. Below him, the wails of the creature in the dungeons went on steadily, and he could feel its sister in the library when he plucked the threads of his wards. Nothing was amiss. Everything was as it should be.

And yet.

He went on for some days like this, struggling with himself. Chronicling what he'd learned in his journals, threading knowledge on strings like gleaming pearls and leaving them within cases that bit should the wrong hands touch them. He even forgot his state in a flurry of excitement while working through what he'd discovered of the beast, Cronus, caught in feverish curiosity and need to know need to find out need to find all the pieces--

But that flurry passed, and with it, the safety of the familiar, leaving him restless and weirdly distressed. He caught himself daydreaming more than focusing on his works, smiling dumbly into space. He checked for illness, for poison, for...anything. But no, nothing was amiss.

It takes coming back to himself and finding his eyes resting on the kintsugi scrying bowl he keeps in one of his cabinets for him to make the connection.

He wants to see Quinn again.

It dumbfounds him. He...misses? Someone? He had not missed someone in--he doesn't recall, really. But that scrying bowl, sable clay with long golden lines gleaming through, makes something thump in his chest, and that...must be it, right?

Maybe, he thinks to himself, he just...is disappointed in the lack of real answers he got. Quinn was just as lost as he, really. And there are others there with knowledge he might find. That must be it, he decides, feeling safer with something familiar. He's merely...still curious.

He ignores how quickly he scrambles to set the fortress for another absence.

@Shadowfire1223

Welp I'm subscribed now, and excited

As Myrddin left the show covered lands Quinn stayed in the spot, holding the plume close to his heart. Thundering beats filled his ears, and the smile grew. Warmth invaded his body, a foreign feeling but it seemed to spread happiness throughout his once frozen body. Emotions swirled within him, fur glowing with pure joy.

Quinn rose from the mass of pillows he had collapsed in, placing the feather in a small vial that hung secretly from his neck. Previously it held a couple of black pearls, but they had buried those long ago. Pulling it back into the mane of fur he ran outside, pausing as he stood before the tear. Outside the bubble he had created stood a world he had long since hidden himself away from; one which had been lost for many decades now.

The warmth radiating from his chest gave him the strength he needed to continue on and not turn back, so he pressed out and stepped outside into the snowy world around him. Shivering softly the tundra shook off what negativity clung to his fur, racing towards the small grave where the engineer laid. Pain squeezed at his heart as he stood before the spot, but he still wore a soft smile.

"I did it Xavier! I'm finally happy again! After all these years trapped within those frozen walls I am finally free! It was like when you showed up, the feeling, it's.." Quinn stopped, realization hitting him hard. They collapsed onto their rump, staring at the grave. "You truly were wise beyond your years engineer. Thank you for the sweet memories."

Quinn returned quickly, feeling exposed without the wooden boards surrounding him. Cronus and Samael stood baffled by the cheerful mood, and by how he pranced around the ship like a school girl who got a kiss on the cheek from someone famous. Their tone, appearance, even personality seemed to change and lighten up the ship.

Judas enjoyed the change, a break in seriousness was always appreciated in a place like this. The crew poked fun at the tundra, the biggest culprit being Cronus who knew exactly what had gone down within the warlock's chamber. Within the week the ship returned to normal, Quinn staying in his room to read and prance within his own walls. Cronus dropped by every now and again to tease, those whispers chanting the words crush, or love as he spoke to the warlock.

These comments were merely ignored by the pleased tundra, his happiness drowning out the teases and taunts tossed to him by the guardian.

oop thanks for reminding me *subscribes to thread*

Now that the ship's location--or rather, where the line between Here and There stood--was known to him, it wasn't difficult to pull that space to his own, slipping through. He's been traveling this way too long for it to cause him any illness like it once did, but still, the change from the buzzing, living magic of the waters below the Isles to the frigid, empty air of the Icefields is a harsh one.

Standing in the snow, he shakes himself of the snow that falls on him, though more replaces it. There's a strange feeling in his chest--nervousness? For what? Not the beast, surely; it had seemed somehow pleased with him when he'd departed.

He explores carefully with tendrils of Self, searching for threats, and finds none. This place is remote and empty of life, glaciers whistling haunting songs with the wind as they slowly ease across waters too deep to remain frozen over. Still, he's jittery and excited and a little worried.

He shakes it off. Whatever has taken hold of him, he cannot let it stop him in his quest. Slowly, he moves forwards, feeling, and when he finds the tear, he nudges it open and slips through, closing his eyes briefly. When he opens them, the ship is before him, and he can feel the presence of the beast.

He trills a greeting, though he can't see Cronus, waving cheerily. "Hello, friend!" he calls. "Is this a bad time for a visit?"

Cronus tensed, slipping into one of the burrows he had dug throughout the land. Someone was coming, one who could manipulate much like he could. Though perhaps it was not at will, but most did not hold the powers which coursed throughout the beings veins. Letting his guard down a bit he searches, whenever the coatl appears he stays hunker down.

Rising from the tunnels the beast gave a grin, cocking his head as he stared at the coatl. Myrddin heard the whispers once more, yet they didn't plead for help anymore, they were merely whispering the question back to him. You return? and I thought the other bird would be alone once again. Quinn is in his chamber. There was no more response from the beast, he merely stared at the coatl for a while.

The whispers were silenced as the other wandered off in the search of food, not wanting to hear the two lovebirds chat. Well, that was a lie but hunger drove him to ignore the nosy urges. The form vanished quickly into the snow, worming his way through the territory. Quinn sensed another presence enter the territory, one familiar to him.

The tundra squeaked happily, quickly noting just who was wandering into the bowels of the ship. Excitement worked into his bones causing a bit of an accident as the tundra fumbled to clean the spilled tea from the floorboards and himself.

Myrddin cocks his head, curious. "Birds?" he asks, but the beast has turned away, and his presence fades from his awareness. He waits a moment, but it seems Cronus has decided he isn't a threat and does not need to remain to watch him.

Turning back to the ship, he feels his stomach flip over, a not-unpleasant feeling. Grinning, he bounds to the opening, testing for traps before slipping inside. It is dark, as ever, wood groaning and old metal contracted tight with the cold. He sniffs the air, then winds his way to the chamber he knows belongs to Quinn, not thinking once about the others or the questions he might ask them.

Quinn sighed softly, shaking his head in dismay. "I'm a warlock for crying out loud!" He muttered softly, cleaning the mess up with a simple wave of his tail. His magic was a thought often forgotten since the coatl had left, instead the other took his time cleaning up his messes with his own hands. Rather awkwardly, seeing as they hadn't really cleaned much without the aid of his magic for such a long time.

Glancing towards the empty teacup the tundra couldn't help but sigh, this was the third he had spilt within the past two days. What was so odd about this? Quinn never spilt before, his movements were careful and calculated but now his mind was occupied with other thoughts. Feelings overwhelemed his old bones, excitement being a cure for the pain that had carved its way into his body.

"How can I possibly be this clumsy?" He chided softly, shaking his head as more tea filled the small cup. The movement in the halls caused him to jolt from the questioning, a warm feeling spreading throughout his cold limbs. Squeaking happily the tundra did a small little turn, swearing loudly as the teacup was knocked from the tabletop. Groaning the tundra restored the cup and its contents.

Myrddin hears Quinn before he reaches his chambers, cursing and muttering angrily to himself, the chime of porcelain punctuating his words. He chortles, amused, and whistles before tapping at his door.

"Perhaps I should come another time?" he asks playfully, but the door is flung open before he can fully ask the question. Quinn is there, disheveled, fur damp in a few places, a cup of tea clutched triumphantly in one claw.

He's cute. Myrddin's smile is very wide, and for once, sincere.

"Hello again," he greets, heart pounding for reasons he has yet to figure.

"Another time? No no do come in, uh.." He glanced down at himself and gave a defeated sigh, setting the cup on the table. "I apologise for how messy I look, I've run into a bought of clumsiness recently." Quinn laughed nervously, carefully avoiding the table so he wouldn't knock the cup over, for the second time today.

That smile the coatl wore warmed him more, a soft tint coating his ears, another laugh slipped from him. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach- actually it was more like bats attacking the lining. He had no clue why such a feeling swirled within his stomach but it was a torrent storm if anything.

"Hello Myrddin, to what do I owe this pleasure?" The question was absentmindedly spoken, thoughts focused on calming his stomach, and not bumping into the few shelves around the room.

Myrddin places a hand to his chest, following Quinn into the chamber. "I came for a previously lost opportunity; alas, Cronus fled upon first sight of me. I think I might have come on too strongly." He injects as much dramatic despair into his voice as possible, draping himself dejectedly over a low lounge in a tussle of fluff and fabric.

Whatever restless disappointment has been plaguing him these past weeks has abated beneath the nervous energy in his limbs and excited beating of his heart. It's...not unpleasant, if unfamiliar, and Myrddin twists onto his belly, watching Quinn move about the chamber. It's not as stuffy as before, as though the oppressive air of unhappiness that had laid over everything within had, to some extent, lifted, and Quinn himself shows signs of better health. He has more than mere skin and fur over his bones, and the fur itself shows the gloss of a good diet. Myrddin's eyes zero in on the mane about his chest, and on the thread of Self that rests there.

He still has the feather...?

He hums a little song. "You seem to have done well for yourself since we last met," he says, approving.

The warlock chuckles softly, watching the scene play out with a soft smile. Shaking his head as the coatl collapsed onto the lounge. "My my, what a pity. A beast who has no heart rejecting you in such a harsh, and cruel way." His voice rang with dramatic effect, putting a hand over his heart he let a fake tear slip down his cheek. The act was followed by another laugh, one full of life.

Those eyes that followed caused the once stoic warlock to flush a bit, ears tinting a different shade. It was odd for eyes to be on him without causing him panic, but the way Myrddin stared just flustered him. His heart pounded against his ribs, playing loudly in his ears, the other was worried the sound could be heard by the other. However the warlock knew this was such a silly and-- immature thought. This caused him pause, these feelings, he was acting like a hatchling again. ... This is such a bad look for me, I am an elder yet these foolish emotions are reverting me back into a younger self..

"Ah yes, ever since your visit I've felt more.. Ah the word was lost I'm afraid but yes. I've seem to have gotten a bit clumsier however.. As indicated by the mess.."