Post #2590859 in Birthstone Spirits: The Great Escape, a roleplay on RPG

Autumn was like a butterfly. That is a butterfly that had already sipped too many flowers that day already, and still, eagerly, went after the glass of young, sweet-smelling wine sitting on a distant window-sill. Her thoughts were loud and chaotic, bright and colorful, absent minded yet demanding attention; even though the intelligible whispers of the dead kept making their presence known. Falke was reminded rather abruptly in this small stretch of time of the reason why the two of them never held very much active conversation with one another. Goddess above, he was just trying to be more or less friendly not complete a mental exercise!

/Pretty much. It's like, um, a bunch of people who couldn't talk to anyone until now. So, they're really noisy. I don't blame them though. It must have been really lonely having no one to talk to. So, they can be as loud as they want. I don't mind.\ Falke responded with a silent presence of affirmation that he had heard what she had said. He personally didn't agree to the mindset of allowing them to be as loud as they wanted, because if it was in her power to use them as necessary and silence them when not. Well, he would love a 5 minuete nap without someone else's daydreams or nightmares wandering in. It would be lovely...

/What about you? I never really thought about it, but does it ever bug you? Reading minds and all? Because i'm pretty sure I heard some strange stuff going on in your head or however it works and you sounded kinda annoyed. Not that I blame you. I would be. Speaking of that... I wonder how everyone else is doing...\ Falke visibly frowned. Not entirely about the fact that she had gone off on a tangent again, thoughts as tangled as a Nomansland jungle to navigate over the hisses of voices creeping and crawling and drowning everything he wasn't trying to focus on; but also, she'd heard something strange stuff? He must have not shut off the connection when they'd gone out to the ceremony, or when Haru had cornered them to get an explanation from the other group of 'what the hell had happened', or now talking with her. But what would have been strange - oh, oh...

/I was counting sheep, in Deutsch, something to keep myself, myself, instead of reliving that experience over again in my head. I apologize for still having the connection open. It can be disconcerting... My abilities are a experience.\ He acknowledged to Autumn. It was simple and straight to the point. If only because of her wandering attention and desperate desire to help the nearby Dorian and Skylar, and by an extent Xabier too, allowed him a moment of respite from the chitterlings of her mind and her ghostly baggage.

Falke glanced wearily over the crowd, feeling that their moment of peace was only the calm of the storm. The party wasn't going to wait for them to it, very shortly it would be coming to them - regardless of Autumn's good intentions to be a fence and keep those adoring 'fans' that wanted to talk with the warriors busy. In his distraction, he never quite listened to the entirety of what Skylar had to say in response so much more than feeling it tickling the edge of his mental range he was limiting to the November warrior mostly. It was enough to make him aware that the situation was hardly out of the woods yet, especially if people kept bringing it up further...

"Do what you want, Autumn... You said you stopped him, Dorian. Was I in any way responsible for what had happened in there?"

Falke flashed an uncomfortable grimace as he bit his own tongue in spite and his cheek-line paled again. Bloody hell. Could anyone leave it alone! Seriously... Autumn had been trying to be helpful. Skylar wasn't exactly helping, by poking the bear with a stick. Xabier had simply slapped the bear upside the head. And Dorian hadn't respond as of yet, but Falke didn't give him the chance.

His silence had worn out.
And his head hurt.

"Xabier, honestly?" Falke rumbled, casting a heated glare over his shoulder directed at the group hovering right behind him, a hand unconsciously raised to rub in irritation at his temple. "Maybe you were mentioned, maybe you weren't. But why would you think you were responsible for another persons' actions? Could we just-..." He paused, short of saying what he really wanted to tell them all off. Which mostly consisted asking them to please exit off the ass-hat train, because we've all derailed at fuck with Falke's head today enough already. He had quickly guarded his mind against Autumn's accidentally listening in on his true thoughts about his mind-reading powers today. Annoyed and being an 'experience', hah, no, that was not enough to describe the issues of being the emotion and thought trashcan of the group.

It only took a moment to find a more appropriate statement, before he spoke up again. "Leave the past in the past, and focus on the present. Talking about all this now in such a (public) setting doesn't help us right now for Goddess' sake." Falke finished with a ill-favored hiss of warning at the end, as his voice grew purposefully softer as the crowd's drifting potentially brought someone into eavesdropping distance. It was abundantly clear that he was getting tired of their games, and that he honestly wanted to keep his head on his shoulders, literally if not figuratively as well, and wished everyone else would have the same quiet sensibilities (what a wish) with their situation.

With a thin pensive line resuming its' place on his lips, he turned away without further words on the matter and eagerly (cough, not really, but lets' go with eagerly) stepped forward into the swirl of grandeur - /Autumn, left? I will take right.\ - and was immediately snatched into idle, more uncomfortable than not, conversation with some worldly nobleman or noblewoman.

...

Upon the completion of the presentation ceremony of the month warriors, Lillian had disappeared from her place in the Guardian line between Ondine and Kit. Despite the delicate up-do Mildred had assured her wouldn't fall free this time like at the gathering the night before, she had opted to leave the festivities before anything could have the slightest provocation of getting out of hand. With murmured farewells to those closest to her, she moved quickly, efficiently, and most of all unnoticed. Escaping outside into a nearby corridor, leaning against an open window sill, to view the open air above the city gradually slowing down for the night in quiet solitude.

The peace didn't last long, however, as her wash-out, gray-blue eyes focused intently on a new companion that had stumbled out of the festivities, to cool off physically and mentally in the cool night air - recognizing it as Harper even in the dim lightning of rising moonlight and distant torches. Lillian had figured an uncomfortable hunch when a scattered Mildred had dragged Haru off, talking with her hands flapping and pitched whispers of agitation; and the appearance of the crumbled June warrior leaning against an outer wall told the rest of the story well enough. Oh children, she silently cursed...

"If you're looking to hide, it would be best to pull deeper into the shadows." Lillian hummed softly in simple advice. Her accent twittering breezily and unguarded in the empty space between the two of them. Wordlessly turning away again with a rustle of heavy cloth of the loose fitting pale gold drapery that hung from a high metal choker and her lean shoulders, to watch the world silently go by once again.

Snippet #2590859

located in Aires, a part of Birthstone Spirits: The Great Escape, one of the many universes on RPG.

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