hugtopia_logs | Open + Closed prompts/ Catch all

Entry tags:

Open + Closed prompts/ Catch all

♥ Who: Pyra and YOU, also some various
♥ Where: Around town
♥ When: Around the entire month of december
♥ What: open log, some closed prompts
♥ Rating: nothing above PG so far

A: It's a Hat
[ For those who have met Pyra, they may probably recall that a golden headband set with a peculiar crystal usually sits atop her hair. Today that isn't the case. Instead, she appears to have swapped the accessory with something a little-- rather, a lot different: a hat. Not just any hat, but a flat-brimmed western, of which some may recognize belonging to another resident of the town.

It's too big for her head, and in accordance with the fickle weather of the city, a gust of wind blows the hat right off. ] ...Ah!

[ It's flying right at you, too. Catch it? Or, even if you don't, she will, sprinting and leaping past you to ensure that it does not touch the ground. This hat is important! Very important! She's not going to let it become damaged if she can help it. Whether you or she manages to save it from a fall, she breathes out a sigh of relief, smiling at you as she straightens up, tossing her hair. ] ...Thank goodness. That was a close one. [ Then, a polite bow. ] I'm sorry about that.

B: Wacky Weather
[ The weather is just... weird. And cold, very cold in this particular district, which may or may not be the most important district because it is the shopping district. But look at her, still dressed in the same outfit as ever! She's currently peering into one of the shops... There's a scarf. A very fluffy scarf on one of the mannequins that she's staring at.

Aaaaand since she's unnaturally warm and doesn't need it, she turns away from it only to spot..... you, at which point her eyes widen and she draws a quick breath, making her way over. Don't mind her, quickly reaching for both of your hands to take into hers, warming them with the unnatural heat of her touch. ]

Oh, no, you look almost frostbitten...

[ Guiding your hands up further, she brings them up to her mouth where she blows onto them gently, then rubbing her hands quickly over yours. ] Better?

C: Wildcard
[ yo hmu if u have any ideas for py here! she can be found lotsa places around the city, from the gardens to the zoo to looking at motorcycles/cars, to cafes. pm or pp

drinksteapots me for plotting, or surprise me here! ]

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[ There's a slow, humble dip of her head from her. It's either a yes, she has eaten, or no, she is not hungry. She does not clarify which.

Pyra... wants to talk; if he had asked, she would have. But his fingers curl around hers, and she's reminded once more of why they're here.

She stands still for a few moments more with him, and then she finally speaks. ] ....I have not been giving my all.

[ Either way, she isn’t in the mood to eat. He sits back down on the sofa, guiding her by the hand to do the same. She can be talking about anything with a statement like that, and it seems that she’s in the mood for just that. ]

I‌ would hear your thoughts.

[ .... ]

Being vulnerable... [ She had promised him she would try; and looking back, it seems she had been the only one making that promise. She truly believes that connections would make touch seem effortless, more so than how she so often immediately seeks it. Most here probably believe her incredibly forward in the best cases, pushy in the worst, and while she is affectionate and quick to reach out to another... it would not be to this excessive degree in her homeworld.

Here, her reaching for hands as quickly as she can when she meets others: not all of these are natural. Some of these gestures take a conscious effort on her part, and it's all for doing what she can for this world. She does not believe she is wrong. ]

It's more difficult than it looks. [ Guided to the couch to sit with him, she brings up her other hand. This, at least, takes no conscious effort. She's comfortable with him. ] This [ Simply touch. Simply hand-holding. ] is the easy way.

[ The bare minimum, the most efficient. ] Only what is necessary.

[ “Is that why you take the easy way out?”

He watches while she speaks, offering nothing in the way of words or expression until she’s finished. To make oneself vulnerable means to lower one’s guard; for a being like Pyra, she shouldn’t even have to consider doing it around mortals.

He looks away to the wall, then the coffee table, and finally the floor. Indeed, it’s easy when one only looks at what’s necessary. They’re creatures of feeling, however, and the heart has a way of complicating matters. Just see what’s become of her.

Turning back to Pyra, Somnus nods. ]

It is what the gods have asked.

[ It seems so hollow to her, only holding hands and nothing else, but it's so simple to throw herself into duty....

But Pyra often chooses to do what she does not just for one reason-- rarely, ever, is it ever one reason-- but multiple reasons. To throw herself into this duty of giving touch to the gods isn't only to remind her of what's important, or how focusing on touch stands above and beyond any emotions, negative or positive she might have from interactions. Rather, she focuses on this touch for her love for others.

It's for Guzma, who has not seen his home in years. It's for Carl, who similarly has not had that opportunity, either. Prompto as well. It's for Era, who will not engage in touch even though she must return to world. It's for Noctis, who has a destiny to fulfill in his home world. It's for the man sitting beside her, who must return to guard the future of his world... ]

....If I... hurt you, will you tell me? [ A pause. She has hurt him, hasn't she? That despondent expression of his won't be something she will easily forget. Yet he continues to give and give and give. Her gaze drops to their linked hands. ] If... I ask too much of you, will you also tell me?

[ The gods can ask everything of him, and it still wouldn’t be enough. Pyra, on the other hand, is daughter to a god who presides over a world removed from Eos. Although he’s only in the position to give, there’s that caveat:‌ he can only give as much as the Bladekeeper would allow in accordance to fate. In short, he can and should.

He doesn’t understand why she asks this of him. Perhaps she’s asked too much of someone else and realized the hurt it’s caused. For a being who treasures all creation, the realization must be a devastating blow. What does that have to do with vulnerability?

Somnus doesn’t question. He’ll hear her thoughts, but only what she’ll share. ]

You have my word.

[ Little though it’s worth, he won’t dare go back on it. ]

[ Something akin to a sigh escapes her, but it's too short, too withdrawn. Still, some tension leaves her shoulders, and she appears to relax. His word does reassure her, for she believes him to speak truly.

He gives, he always gives. Someday, he might give so much for the future there might not be anything left of him. If that is the case, she does not wish to take more than he may offer, with what he wishes to give in the first place; she wants to give back to him what she can. She wants to give more to the world, too. ] ....Th-thank you.

[ Briefly, her eyes meet his as she gives her thanks, but then they lower to their hands. She remains silent for a few moments longer, running a thumb over the ridges of his knuckles. Here, she thinks of the world again. Of him, of those she has met. How many wish to return home. Of when they had first appeared, of the breach, the attack they had been told about, the ruins of a portion of the wall, the whispers that the barrier had been broken through...

Vulnerability takes time because trust takes time. If she cannot be vulnerable, then she can at least give more to touch. ] I fear... we are not doing enough.

[ Because this is the easy way, is it.

Following her gaze down to their hands, he both sees and feels her thumb run over his knuckles. There was no need to thank him, particularly if she believes that what they’re doing now is inadequate. He won’t dwell on this. ]

What do you propose, then?

[ He is the most reliable hand-holding partner she's found in this entire city. There is little more they can consciously give when they are together, and she is the one to initiate contact between them.

..."Consciously".

Ah. That could be the key, to continue to contribute even while they are unconscious. ]

During the night, when we sleep.... perhaps we ought to lie side-by-side each other. [ Not should. Not can. Ought, as if there is an imperative-- a moral one to help this world, just as it is to help others return to their own, assuming that the gods' powers will be restored to do so. (There is that selfish need to help themselves, too, to return to each other's own homes.) ] Not necessarily every night, and not when you are unwilling or wish to be alone.

[ Here, she lifts her gaze. ] But... would you be opposed to sharing the bed with me to provide contact when we can?

[ Yes, perhaps they ought to do that. Somnus doesn’t take very long to think about it. In fact, he answers without a noticeable pause, though not so quickly as to appear thoughtless. ]

We were summoned to offer our touch to the gods. [ Their eyes meet. ] I would not be opposed.

[ A bed is a bed—something in which to sleep. They spend so many hours unconscious. Why not make use of that time? ]

[ She's thankful that he's agreed. With this, she hopes, they will do more for the people here, the gods here, the barrier that protects them all.

Pyra would not have asked anyone else, for she's come to know him as dutiful, respectful. Another might misinterpret what her offer entails, but he will not. He is like her in that regard, that they both attempt to utilize their time together as effectively as possible.

Meeting his gaze, she offers a grateful smile. He's promised her to tell her if she'd ever hurt him. While comfort is not on the same level as pain (physical or emotional)-- she feels the need to add: ] Please... tell me at once if you are not comfortable sleeping alongside me.

[ If everyone did what was comfortable, nothing would get done. Nevertheless, Somnus nods. His tolerance for discomfort is high, so she won’t be hearing from him anytime soon. If she has no objections, nor does he.

Accepting her smile in silence, he waits. She seemed to have so much to say when she first came back, but he knows her to be tight-lipped where herself is concerned. If she has no more to share, perhaps tonight would be a reasonable start to their new arrangement. ]

[ She can only hope that he will not be too bothered by the dim glow of her crystal during the night or her warmth, as some find it discomforting to rest with light or when not cooler.... The quality of his rest outweighs the touch they might give to the gods!

But she can do something for the light. It is this that she decides speak further, as her earlier questions covered her woes. ] I... will need to borrow a tunic of yours, if you do not mind.

[ Because she’s only been sleeping with what she’s wearing now....! Should they lie next to each other, her normal attire would not be as soft as the fabric of his robes. She’s ready to put this day behind her, anyway. ]

[ Then let them put it behind them. Somnus rises. Though he doesn’t tug on Pyra’s hand, the invitation is there. He means to go to his chosen room and fetch one of the tunics she’s made for him. ]

It is yours to wear as you please.

[ He’s by no means materialistic. ]

[ She follows-- no, she walks alongside him, hand in hand.

The tunic's cut will definitely be too large on her, what with how broad his shoulders are compared to her own, but she'll be careful to not let sleeves slip for modesty's sake. She decides, then, that she will make one or two for herself at a later date, if only to rest in.

...

There's but a slight pause at the door to his room, him crossing the entrance a half-step before her. Just like her own room, his has remained undecorated. Looking around, she releases his hand so that he might fetch the tunic; they'll have to part anyway for her to change. ]

[ Regis said that he was living in a box. Well, as long as the box provides shelter, Somnus doesn’t need anything else.

He walks over to the dresser and pulls out an off-white tunic woven from lightweight material. He’s never seen her bothered by the weather, and she runs warm on the outside. He returns to offer the folded tunic, nods, then leaves the room to give her her privacy. She’ll find him waiting next to the door, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. ]

[ She changes quickly, for it's a matter of dismissing her outfit and slipping on the plain tunic. He will find none of her clothes folded or put off to the side. For a moment she marvels as the fabric unfurls over her like a nightgown. It is too large, revealing more of her shoulders, but it's comfortable and doesn't cling to her body.

However, the crystal upon her chest shimmers dimly, peaking above the collar's dip. Conscious of this, she holds a hand up to her chest as she opens the door to his room and welcomes him back in. Taking him by the hand again, her eyes go to the bed.

Lightly, ] ...It's comfortable. No wonder you wear them during the day, too.

[ Her clothes have vanished seemingly into thin air. He doesn’t question this as he walks them over to the bed, on the edge of which he sits.

Tunics are breathable, and they don’t restrict movement. Indeed, they’re comfortable. They’re also familiar, which is half the reason he wears them. This one is too big on her, though, and makes her self-conscious in the way she attempts to hide what she is.

He nods, urging her to lie down with a slight, downward tug of his hand. Once she moves to do so, he’ll follow suit. ]

[ Aaaaand with the last of the lights turned off, she lies down upon the bed, comfortably sinking into the mattress upon her side, resting her head upon a spare pillow. She's facing him as she lies, her hand still on his.
In sleep, no one can truly has control. They might separate, toss, or turn; all too easily, they will release each others' hands. It would be better to...

Pyra moves closer to him. Just as they had been alongside each other when sick, her hand raises to be over his shoulder, although now her touch is looser, their bodies more separate to accomodate some space. Slowly she raises her gaze to meet his. His own face and neck are illuminated by the crystal, expression made softer by the teal-emerald glow, accenting the ridges of his cheeks, his brows. The last time she had been this close was when he was ill-- when he had been pale, clammy, his breathing ragged. He appears so much more healthier now. And before that...

The hand that had been on his shoulder moves to his cheek, her eyes briefly flitting to the one of his that had been blackened a month ago. It's healed completely. ]

[ Healed, though the warning remains. He'll give his brother a wide berth while they exist in this world together. It's the greatest mercy Somnus can give, knowing that his very face is a trigger for myriad emotions, none of which is good.

A soft hand rests on his cheek. Closing his eyes, he turns his face into the pillow under him. The glow of Pyra's crystal isn't so strong as to fully penetrate his eyelids and won't rouse him. Falling asleep is difficult, but he sleeps deeply enough once he's fallen.

While he waits for sleep to claim him, his thoughts drift to Pyra. Her dominant emotions are adoration and curiosity, if only on the surface. Beneath her smiles is an untold amount of sorrow, to say nothing of her shyness when it comes to herself and her interests. He still doesn't understand what drove her to this arrangement—perhaps causing hurt elsewhere has rekindled an already powerful desire to help the displaced people and return to her own world. Or perhaps it was for reasons beyond his comprehension. Whatever the case, his touch is hers to offer to the gods of Aellyn, even in their slumber. ]

[ How much time have they both wasted not coming to this conclusion sooner. This world needs all of the help it can get, the otherworlders need to return to their homes. Throwing herself into this work of providing touch is what she can do right now; the easy way, as it were. Listening to others' woes and tales is simple enough, too, and she both admires and envies those who are so brave and willing to be so open, volunteering more about themselves.
She will never be like that. Her story, her name is not worth remembering; saying this aloud, however, would only invite more queries or worse-- denials from others that she too is worth knowing more about. She will not give others any indication that she feels this way about herself to invite such words, if she can help it.

Thus, she may only give touch.

This time, he is the first to close his eyes and fall asleep. Even in sleep he does not appear relaxed as it should be. His body remains rigid, though more slack with his touch. Sleeping makes one vulnerable. What will it take for him to feel peace and comfort during his own slumber? No promise from her to not hurt him may help, but she hopes that will change. She hopes that... even if he will not speak of himself either--

Ah. Maybe... they are more similar to each other than she thought. Maybe, he does not speak of himself for a similar reason as her own: to not invoke another's feelings, the belief that others should not lend him comfort or sorrow or pity or sympathy. He may feel he does not deserve it.

She might never know the answer to her internal queries and projections of him, but with just wondering about it, she promises herself to be more sensitive to him. Time will tell if she may be able to fulfill this promise.

Bringing her hand down from his cheek back to his shoulder, she eventually joins him in rest. ]

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Open + Closed prompts/ Catch all

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