aefenglom | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Name: un: errantry
Date: Feb. 11th
Format: Text

I honestly haven't been using this blasted watch as much as perhaps I should have. It just never seemed important.

But I have received some advice from someone and I suppose I am now putting it into practice, despite my trepidation.

My bonded left or vanished early last month. Or the month before; I can't quite remember. I managed the last full moon well enough, but I know from experience that it's just going to get worse or at least more difficult. And more to the point, I'm feeling horrendously lonely as of late.

So I'm looking for friends and companions, I suppose, with the potential to eventually form a bond. Not the most romantic thing I've ever done, but this place isn't all that romantic to begin with, is it?

Still not used to this whole "mortal" thing, though.

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I hadn't considered a temporary bond, but that might be just the thing to at least get me through the next few moon cycles without driving myself into lunacy.

You have my thanks.

As for my mortality? I was immortal; I was a fae. Different from what they call fae here, but similar in some respects. I was immortal, though. I didn't age. I didn't change. I was who I was.

It's all different here.

It will definitely help you during the full moons.

Interesting... This must be extra jarring for you. In what ways would you say you were different?

No aging, for one, and it would take a great deal to actually destroy me. I was not bound by mortal law nor anything but my word. I was who I was and that never needed to change, unless I wished to.

I did not regret. And now it plagues me.

Your previous condition sounds almost godlike. By not regretting, you mean to say that you never had to personally suffer the consequences of your actions before until now?

Well, when you put it that way it sounds so negative...

[Translation: yes.]

I see. Well, now that you're mortal, I suppose you'll have to endure it like the rest of us. Nobody likes to regret, but regret can teach us how to improve ourselves so that we don't make the same mistakes again. Change doesn't have to be a bad thing.

It feels awful, though. Why must mortals feel awful in order to learn anything?

I would ask whatever force decreed the laws of the universe. I can't give you much of an answer. I can, however, add that some lessons don't always have to come at such a price.

True enough, I suppose. But it feels that way...

Are you still bound to your word? Or have you discovered the mortal secret of telling lies?

Technically, I suppose I could start lying, but I never have before and I pride myself on keeping my word.

Pride is all well and good, but there is such a thing as being honest to a fault. Maybe someday you'll run into a situation where a lie may save you where the truth will not.

I'd never say I was honest to a fault. I just don't lie.

[ Look, there's a difference between lying and bending the truth, as far as she's concerned. ]

That sounds like an abject lie to me. I doubt you're unfamiliar with crafty language. Whatever lengths your honesty stretches to, my point still stands.

Pish-posh, here I am being honest and you're accusing me of lying!

Well, still, I'll take your point into consideration.

You're only being honest if our definition of lying is at odds.

The dragon in the infirmary is starting to grow tired. If you want his assistance, now would be better than later. He sleeps like he's in a coma these days.

Edited (whoops! forgot formatting!) 2020-03-21 05:43 (UTC)

Alright, alright, I'll go and take a look at this dragon.

[ True to her word, she shows up in about ten or fifteen minutes (it's a bit of a hike), knocking on the door-frame and sticking her head in. ]

Anyone home?

[ The infirmary has been a little busier than usual tending to the survivors of the recent kidnappings. Witches on staff pause their rounds and glance over at the entryway, patients curious to see the visitor and if it was anyone for them. A number of them are monsters, refugees from the incident... but there is only one black dragon boy among them, settled on a waiting seat propped against the wall closer than the others.

For a dragon, even for a man, he's astonishingly slight, youthful features drawn and worn by his condition in spite of the sleep he claims to be getting plenty of. The dark Coven robe lent to him obscures most of the healing damages peppered, pocked, and sliced across his skin, but a faded slash of reddish-pink like clawmarks still decorates the area around his sharp, vibrant eyes, which fall to Iramaat. A silent, mutual recognition that this was the other person on the other end. ]

You must be the one I was speaking with. [ He clutches a green corked bottle with hands folded in his lap. ] Non-consensual Bond annulment troubles?

[ Oh, he looks a bit different than expected. No matter! She gives him a curious, appraising look and then comes trotting right up to him with a smile. She has a very slight limp and her antlers seem to have been sawed off at some point (they're in the process of regrowing) and there are a few little dings here and there, but she's mostly healthy. ]

Yes, that would be my problem. I take it you're the helpful one who had some advice for me?

[ Soren's always been the reserved type; he ordinarily doesn't appreciate others getting too close to him. However, seeing her limp, her sawed-off antlers, knowing she had to walk to get here, not even he can help but dispense sympathy. Survivors of the same hell. The seat is more than wide enough for two people. He pats the spot to indicate it is for the taking, should she wish. Otherwise, not much about his bearing is very inviting. He leans forward to adjust his long, serpentine tail so that it drapes around the opposite end instead. ]

Yes. My name is Soren. It's bad enough you had to suffer through what many of us did. The last thing you need is heartache to go with it.

[ Iramaat doesn't enjoy being pitied, but for the moment she doesn't much care. She takes the seat with a grateful nod. She's refused to use a cane, simply because of her pride, but she might want to think about it at some point. ]

Iramaat, at your service.

[ Her smile falters a little. ]

Yes... well. That's just my luck, isn't it? To go through it all alone...

[ He takes his eyes off of her; they fall to his lap, the bottle cradled in his laced, rough-scaled fingers. The past months seep in, make him feel numb. The past year of footing it mostly alone. Nobody to stop by to visit him in the infirmary... not that he knew of, being conked out most of the time. For all he knows, the Exarch might have. He'd been so worried, hauling him out of the depths of that place. But even with people like that entering his miserable life, he can't seem to escape feeling achingly, helplessly alone. Inconsolable. It's not a kind of loneliness just anyone can fill. Even being Bonded to Yako hadn't quite reached the icy depths his heart has plunged. But she had been nice.

Still... This world picks the worst times to sever Bonds, doesn't it? ]

That's just how it is sometimes. [ He hands her the potion. ] But this should make it a little easier in the meantime. Who were you Bonded to?

[ She notes the hesitation and the glance he gives his lap. There's more of a story here, but one she doesn't know and can't quite put her finger on. She purses her lips and then leans over to give him a bump with her shoulder as she accepts the potion. ]

Her name was Nel. And she was grumpy and withdrawn, but I liked her.

[ That sounds oddly familiar. ]

She cared, in her own way. And I'm sad that she's just... gone. [ She frowns. ]

I pledged myself to her and that means something to me. I keep my oaths.

[ The well-meaning bump makes him bristle a bit and glance her way, but as far as physical gestures go, that is perhaps the least invasive. And now she's taking an emotional turn. He's really not well-equipped for consoling people, often inadvertently offending them in the few instances he attempts, and he's aware of this flaw. But asking about her Bonded in his curiosity invited this sort of response, didn't it? He listens, uncomfortable in this role, still not meeting her eyes. His voice stays quiet and level, appropriately sober. ]

I can see why you're upset. Nel... I never crossed paths with her knowingly. Is she someone you knew prior to your tenure in Aefenglom?

No, actually. We met here. I... enjoyed her.

[ Iramaat sighs and tucks the potion away, leaning forward to brace her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. ]

I miss her. I never knew what it was to really miss someone - to have what you wanted and then lose it. I don't much like it.