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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Apr 12, 2024 18:48:28 GMT -5
Per Cypress’ very clear request, Astrid does not turn up to Shade’s Valley Orphanage via the window or the wall. This time, she goes in the front door. However, she does not actually knock before entering, instead opting to just open the door (if it’s unlocked. If it isn’t then she phases through the front door.) and enter. At this point, she has thrown a stealthy approach out the window. If the goons watching the orphanage have a problem, they can say something to her face. As she walks through the walls, a small bouquet of flowers and a bag of treats in hand, Astrid calls out to the guardians of the orphans to announce her entrance. “Oriole! Andromeda! Astrid’s here ta visit Cypress! Won’t be gettin’ into no trouble!” Which she quickly follows up with a much quieter, “Probably…” In all honesty, Astrid is here to see if Cypress wants to join her on another adventure, though this one is much less dangerous than rescuing Everett from the Mud Worms. No, this time, she’s going to deal with some pesky tiny Fae, but because the guild wants its members to be cautious, she needs a partner. Who’s a better partner than a cute satyr with their own weird connections to magic? Apparently, Cyran is.
Hart of the woods details: Guild: Winged Expeditionary Force Participants: Exactly Two Location: Sunshade Glade Post Requirements: 5 posts per person, 200 words per post Reward: +1 Renown - Anyone +1 Mystical Archive ticket - Guild Member +1 Towards Guild Quest requirements - Guild Member Description: Whatever is responsible for bringing the Knight back to consciousness has seemed to leave an essence around it, a Fae like energy that has attracted other Fae beings. Hordes of small Nibblenynh have flooded into the Grove and are spending a lot of time around the Knight. The energy is causing them to act up and become even more annoying than normal. They are pestering the other guild members while they attempt to do their work, distracting them and making it hard to learn anything. The W.E.F is asking members to help control the Fae pest problem without violently hurting them, quelling any pesky shenanigans the Nibblenynh have gotten up to.
Additional Information: The creatures are non violent in nature and are really just being annoying. The sudden spur in their whimsical side must be fueled by something, but what could be causing it?
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Apr 13, 2024 9:08:03 GMT -5
Returning home after months on the road was accompanied with a myriad of emotions Cyran thought he’d cycled through.
Things were not perfect; but they were getting better, day by agonizing day. At the very least it was safe enough for Cyran and Del to return to this place they had built together. After a decade fashioning himself a vagabond - and centuries before then, having no particular attachment to ‘home’ - he thought it would be easier to sever the strings of homesickness which had coiled their way around his heart. Yet, it felt like every day since he and his fiancée departed, they coiled a little tighter around him.
And even though he’s back in his office like nothing has changed, nothing was the same, because he had changed, and the world had tilted on its axis, and yet, Shade’s Valley still existed, untouched by the fingers of time. The children continued to grow and learn, and life went on in his and Del’s absence. Did he even deserve to step back here? Did he deserve to dream of a future where he could fully dedicate himself to caring for children in need, without worrying about the blood on his hands, after everything-?
The distant shout forced him out of his thoughts. Cyran drew in a sharp breath, setting down the portrait he’d been staring at. One he had done of Zarius and Caedes, from back when he was still living at the Rookery. Cyran always had been something of a sentimental old fool. Today, of all days, though… it felt like his heart was bleeding a little more than usual.
He set those thoughts aside and traipsed to his office door, peering into the hallway.
The door Astrid let herself in through was not, in fact, unlocked - Darkveil was not a place for one to be incautious, and after the cultists of Vulcadreus stole Del from this very home, Cyran wasn’t taking any chances. Not that it was a problem for the retired assassin’s current guest. A rather familiar face. One who’d barged into this orphanage without a care on numerous occasions in the past.
Cyran blinked, offering Astrid a small, nervous smile. Gods, he hadn’t seen her since their excursion into the Marsh Flats after the rampaging hydra. She seemed in good spirits, but he hoped she would not be too upset to see him.
He stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him, curled fingers lingering on the doorknob for a moment longer, the shadows stirring in response to his touch.[1] The elven man gave a satisfied nod before turning to the dwarven child who’d wandered into the lobby.
“Astrid, what a surprise.” He greeted, tied between offering her a quick hug and keeping his distance - in the end he hovered awkwardly in the hall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oriole and Andromeda aren’t in right now… I gave them the day off since they’ve… you know. They’ve been working so hard in my absence. You’re looking for Cypress?”
He paused, gaze lingering on the flowers and chocolates in her hands. Perhaps he should have been able to put the pieces together, but it had yet to click with him. Especially considering how long it had taken him to see the romantic undertones in his own relationship after almost a year of being soul-bound to one another. For a man who’d made a career of reading the innermost secrets of others and silencing them for good, there were just some topics he was blind to.
“… What are those for?” 1. Arcane Lock
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The Tinkertons
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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Apr 13, 2024 10:36:04 GMT -5
Despite the orphanage literally belonging to Cyran and being his home, Astrid does not expect to see him in its halls. In fact, his voice startles her enough for her to whip around fast enough that loose petals fly off the flowers in her hands. “CYRAN?!” she gasps upon seeing him. Wait, this could be a trick. No, no. No one could pull off the tired and awkward dad thing that he does. “CYRAN!” The temptation to rush over and give him a hug is strong, so while Astrid rushes over, she hesitates on the hug part. “Hey!! Aye, I’m–”
The flowers and bag of pastries and candies suddenly feel hot like the volcano, as does Astrid’s face as a wash of red creeps across her cheeks and ears. Oh, Cyran doesn’t know about that. Uhhh… No use hiding them. “Aye, I’m lookin’ fer Cypress,” she says as if nothing is amiss because, well, it isn’t. “Thought she’d appreciate some flowers that didn’t grow from her own feet an’ also some snacks ta share.”[1] That is her intention – mostly. Something Cyran might notice is a glass flower petal earring hanging from Astrid’s ear opposite of the earring that matches Cantio’s. This earring, Cyran might recognize as matching one that Cypress now wears.
And the other thing is the, you know, metal arm with blue glowing magic poking out from beneath her sleeve.
A flurry of questions “When did ya get back?? Is Del here? Did ya get yer letter?? No, wait, are ya safe?” Why yes, the thirteen-year-old will go to battle for the elven couple.
1. Smooth Talking Note: Astrid’s not wearing any armor right now.
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Apr 19, 2024 15:54:55 GMT -5
Wow. It had been a long time since someone - excluding Del - had been so excited to see him. Astrid’s reaction left the elven man taken aback, any other questions Cyran might have asked dying in his throat. “Yes! It’s good to see you, I’m glad you’re well…”
He trailed off, confused at the sudden flush on Astrid’s face. Why was she upset? Was it too warm in here? Since the volcano’s destruction Darkveil had found itself noticeably cooler, though with the fire blazing once more in the hearth it was far warmer in here than it usually was. Cyran would have gone to adjust the flames were it not for the sudden caginess in Astrid’s tone.
Cyran narrowed his eyes.[1]
There was no technical lie in her voice, but he’d not spent his years dealing with children who thought they were being slick by employing a lie of omission to cover up whatever they didn’t want him to find out. It was the kind of voice Marlow used to use whenever she had snuck into the kitchen in the middle of the night for sweets and pretended to be sleepwalking when she was caught. Astrid wasn’t lying but she was hiding something. Based on context clues, it had something to do with…
Oh. Oh, he recognized that earring.
“You know…” Cyran started conversationally, as if something had just occurred to him. “Oriole and Andromeda told me that Cypress snuck out of the orphanage for a little while on Hearth Day. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? Given that the two of you are friends and all?”
He’d… already suspected, of course, that Astrid had been involved in that particular incident - which had nearly given Oriole a heart attack. Given that Astrid had already expressed the willfulness and the means to “abduct” Cypress for sleepovers, it was not a stretch for Cyran to make the connection. But the flowers, and the treats, that was the kind of gift Cyran would bring to Del while acting bashful about it.
He was interrupted from his musing by Astrid’s rapid fire questions. Another event parenthood, thankfully, had prepared Cyran for was keeping up with the boundless energy that adolescents possessed. He was able to decently keep up with her train of thought. “Not very long - a week ago, perhaps. Del’s somewhere around here, but we’ve both been busy getting things up and running again. I…”
He closed his eyes and thought of the ink delicately penned on the piece of parchment tucked in his pocket.
“I did.” He decided on after a moment of silence, and did not elaborate.
“Safe is a subjective term, but we have done our best to extend an olive branch. I cannot confront what I did if I’m constantly running from it. So for the time being,” He offered her a small smile. “We are home. And your warm welcome is very much appreciated.”
He ruffled her hair, if she’d let him. As he did, his gaze drifted downwards towards the glint of metal in the dim light that caught his attention. She wasn’t wearing any armor, so why…
“Oh, no.” His face went dangerously pale, voice soft with trepidation; as if he’d just stumbled upon a minefield and sprung a trap underfoot. “Astrid, that… that isn’t real, is it?”
It seemed he and Del were not the only ones who’d been busy in the past few months.
Cyran thought he was going to be sick. 1. Insight Rune
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The Tinkertons
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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Apr 22, 2024 22:02:46 GMT -5
Does she hug him? Does she not? It’s hard to tell. Astrid is glad to see him though, especially at home! Wait, why is he looking at her like that? Astrid’s eyes dart around with slight movements while she tries to parse it together until Cyran just asks very casually. Well, more like states rather than asks.
“Buh–!” Astrid chuffs slightly. “It weren’t on Hearth Day. It was two days before. An’ we were back quick. Just got some snacks.” Admittedly, sneaking Cypress out the window for what they later decided was a date isn’t even the worst pseudo kidnapping situation Astrid ever put the satyr in. There was the “sleepover” that actually involved the two of them breaking someone out of prison in Thorock, and then more recently they went on an escapade through the Marsh Flats to find Everett. The Hearth Day “incident” was barely even an incident!
After spitting out the truth, Astrid pauses, realizing her mistake. She blinks while processing it. Then she just shrugs it off. It’s not like it was that much of a secret anyway. Oriole and Andromeda probably have some idea of things. Maybe. Actually, Astrid hasn’t talked to them much individually, so if they know anything, it’s whatever Cypress told them, if anything at all.
The point is, the Hearth Day sneaking out is not the most recent time the two of them went off on some kind of adventure. It’s just the last time that they snuck out. It was, admittedly, not very sneaky, but it was fun.
“Anyway–” A flurry of questions, followed by Astrid’s energy levels dropping while she listens to his answers with her full attention. While she asks her questions with a lot of excitement, she knows they aren’t the easiest to answer, so she listens intently and watches the elf’s face.
It’s sometimes a strange thing, the way Astrid’s eyes take on understanding and wisdom beyond the years of her peers. Things haven’t been very easy for any of them lately, especially not Cyran and Del being away from home for so long and the consequences they have faced or will face because of it. The connection between Astrid’s arm and her shoulder itches at the memory of what she went through with Askr.
“I’m glad,” Astrid says, dual meaning in her words. She’s happy they’re back, and she’s glad he’s confronting the situation. It’s not an easy thing to do. She herself hasn’t totally done it either even though she did spend some time helping with some tasks for the Fighter’s Guild. “As long as no one’s tryna take yer head off, that’s what matters. An’ if they are, ya know who ta call!” The half-dwarf flexes her arm with the intention of beating up anyone who tries – which is, ironically, the way she met Askr.
She, of course, doesn’t mind the ruffle of his hand through her hair, and Astrid grins at Cyran, her face wrinkling up as she giggles.
And then her expression drops, frozen in shock when she realizes that he has no idea about her prosthetic. Astrid’s eyes cut down to look at it then they stare at the floor for a long moment. He saw it. It’s just–
Astrid steps away from Cyran and tries to gauge his expression before she answers. Oh yeah. Oh no, she’s not telling him anything. Yet.
“Oh, I got a question fer ya! Be right back!” Suddenly, lightning wreathes her form,[1] and Astrid dashes[2] past Cyran straight through the door to his office. Don’t snoop. Don’t snoop. She quickly looks around until she finds the portrait of the girl she and Cypress met in the library in Sol City. There it is! Astrid scoops it up and looks at it carefully. This is absolutely Marlow.
Just before she exits through the door again, Astrid makes sure to activate the illusory runes of her prosthetic. Magic washes over her arm and makes it look like her real arm before she lost it.[3] Then she goes back into the hall, letting the electricity fade from her form while she looks at the portrait. Turning her gaze from the portrait to Cyran, Astrid asks, “How come Marlow says yer a bad da that abandoned her? Seems a bit out a’ character considerin’ ya run this place an’ care a lot about the kids here.” She holds the portrait up. “This is Marlow, ain’t it? Would be a weird coincidence if it ain’t since Cypress an’ I met a girl that looks just like her with the same name in Sol City. Did ya know she wants ta join the Consortium?”
Subject change accomplished.
Wisdom beyond her years aside, Astrid is still a child with a child’s amount of tact. In this case that would be none.
1. Elementalist - Full Elemental Manifestation (phase through objects) 2. Bullet Dash 3. Arcanatek Prosthetic - Illusion Mode [post 1/4]
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on May 4, 2024 10:41:43 GMT -5
Despite himself Cyran grinned as Astrid corrected him. He still had it.
“Oh really?” He asked, doing his damnedest to act surprised at this admission. Oriole and Andromeda already had a hunch that Cypress’s outings had been related to Astrid. They weren’t as observant as Cyran, but after the scare with Del’s kidnapping, they’d become a lot more vigilant about people coming and going from Shade’s Valley. Astrid herself making an impromptu house call was not in of itself a problem, though it did make Cyran keenly aware of the limitations of their security. It wasn’t exactly a good look if Astrid could so easily traipse into Cypress’s room without anyone the wiser. Not to mention the initial incident had given poor Oriole a fright in the seconds before the young thief pieced together where Cypress had gone.
“And that’s an awful pretty earring, too…” He trailed off, tapping at his chin. Okay, so perhaps he couldn’t help but poke a little fun. Young love - or whatever the children decided to classify their friendship as - it was a beautiful thing. Cyran was over the moon that Cypress was coming out of her shell and socializing. And he’d known Astrid for so long by now that he couldn’t help but feel so proud of her for finding a friend her age.
The light teasing melted away into genuine gratitude - and perhaps, a little bit of surprise - that Astrid was so gung-ho about protecting him and Del. That wasn’t the kind of thing a thirteen year old need worry about… part of him still could not believe that the young adventurer had heard everything Cyran admitted to her and still felt safe around him, all things considered. Then again, the two were the same in that regard. Both haunted by friends.
“Thank you. I mean it.”
Then, there was the arm. Before he could offer any further query - before Astrid could dodge any more of his questions - she was off like a lightning bolt, and back just as fast, with a portrait he’d dearly missed during his months on the road.
Her own question, admittedly, hit him with a blow akin to that of her own hammer.
“You saw her?” The incredulous question ripped itself from his lips before Cyran could tamper his reaction. They hadn’t been to Fenastra Manor, had they? No - Cyran would never wish that misfortune on anyone. “Did she look well?” Did she look happy?
Cautious joy at the prospect of Astrid having news about Marlow withered to dust as he remembered the question the news came with.
“I would never abandon her.” Cyran’s voice was sharp; a coldness that only lasted for all of a moment before his shoulders slumped and it melted away to weariness. “But if that is what she believes, then she is owed her hurts.”
Regardless of his best efforts, his love and his loss, it did not change the fact that one day, he’d been there with Marlow. And the next, he had not. His father could twist the truth all he wanted, and it was an awfully nice sentiment to believe that was the whole of Marlow’s truth. But he of all people would be a damn fool to pretend a parent’s actions didn’t leave gaping scars where there ought to have been unwavering love and support. There wasn’t a lifetime where Cyran wouldn’t give up everything in the world a hundred times over to stay by her side and raise her.
But it didn’t matter, because the fates knew Cyran hadn’t had anything to give - except Marlow herself.
The irony.
He blinked away tears as Astrid pressed the subject. Marlow believed Cyran had left her to those wolves. That was that. The elven man delicately picked up the portrait from Astrid, running his fingers over the glass encapsulating the parchment, as gentle as a whisper. There was nothing but unrestrained adoration in his eyes. Oh, how he missed her.
“She is?” He asked, eyes crinkling at the corners as a smile crept upon his face. “I’ve always known she was a smart cookie. Her grandfather forbid her from the practice, but she was always such a curious bird.“ So he bought her a set for beginners that year. It had been so terribly worth it to see the smile on her face that year. Despite father’s punishment. Oh, but to know that the curiosity had bloomed into something so wonderful…
His heart felt like it was about to burst from pride that could not contain itself.
Remembering where he was, Cyran glanced back at Astrid. “Where? When? Cypress was there, too?” What a small world. He made a mental note to speak with Cypress later about it. It was a precarious thing, to take care of children already so fragile from abandonment’s wounds. He hoped it hadn’t sparked any anxieties in her that he might leave the same way, too. More than anything she needed to know she was safe here.
But that would come later.
“It is… a complicated situation. If you met Marlow, then you know where she - and I - come from.” It was not something he’d ever cared to admit out loud. Then again, if he had been thrust into the world of nobility once more, he’d probably have to get used to it. “When Marlow was about your age, there was… an incident. To save face, my father exiled me; stripped me of my name and all that came with it. I never cared for the money… so long as I had Marlow with me, I knew everything would be alright. It had always been just the two of us against the world. My father… he had different ideas.”
Cyran drew in a shuddering breath. He so hated talking about it, but Astrid had proven time and time again that she deserved the truth. Even if it hurt. Astrid and Cypress both had the scars that came from being abandoned. It was a scary thing, to learn that someone you trusted might do the same to others. And though hurt it did, it was all Cyran could do to try and break this cycle. Of leaving and feeling left behind.
“It broke my heart to go while she stayed behind, but I was given no choice. My father has kept the manor well-guarded with hired hands capable of spying me even at my stealthiest. And any correspondence to Marlow is heavily vetted. That does not mean I have ever stopped trying to obtain custody of her.”
Even if she had moved on - even if Cyran was no longer part of her world - she would always be at the center of his.
“Don’t think this changes the subject, young lady.” He chided, forcing himself out of the past once more. They were not in Eclipse City, and Cyran was not the same man he was a decade ago. With a wave of his hand, the portrait disappeared into the shadows, and he was free to step forward and gently grab Astrid’s hand.[1] It looked normal now, so perhaps he was mistaken-?
No, there was no misidentifying what he’d seen. Or what he’d feel, if Astrid actually let him gently inspect her arm. Or what was left of it, at least. 1. Klepto Gloves
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