( OPEN ) come with me, stay with me

[paladads]

WHO: Shiro + ???
WHERE: The canal boat & various.
WHEN: All through April.
WHAT: Catch-all for quests and whatever else.
WARNINGS: tba.

[ Fight with a close friend. Make someone cry. Give someone a near-death experience.

Whatever kind of sadist is behind the so-called quests, Shiro has long since decided he doesn't like them.

After taking a chance on becoming an actual lion and finding no real payoff in the wind, his faith in "F" has been scrubbed down to the minuses and any enthusiasm to play their games is hard-won. One of the Blue-marked himself, he tries to sidestep any confrontations that might provoke someone into playing by the morbid rules and mostly spends his days on the canal-boat at the docklands when he isn't scavenging for food. Some salted fish from an inland lake where he starts fishing (and can be found in the mornings) begin to stack up in his and Keith's home, strung over the stove for a warm, chewy snack if the urge strikes, and the vegetables they root out mean a stew is usually simmering in wait for hungry men to come looking.

He likes the library, exploring what he can and finding frustration awaits when he can't. The empty houses in the blue, red, and yellow districts have a creepy haunted quality that he braves only when he and Keith need something homely in a hurry, bedsheets or a small cabinet. It feels like grave-robbing the grey homes which doesn't sit well with him, despite knowing they have no other choice.

And if his evenings aren't spent with Keith for whatever reason he can sometimes be found on the roof of the boat, stargazing.

It's always easy to find Shiro; his arm never stops glowing, day or night. ]

Comments

[whichcraft]

[She remembers Lion Guy, of course; even if she hadn't turned him into a lion, thus inherently making him memorable, she would've remembered his name just from the inadvertent mnemonic she'd crafted for him through idle chatter. Shiro — is that because of the hair?

It's not, but it makes it easy to remember, anyway.

She's actually carrying her lion plush with her as she goes walking through Bluo one evening, past the canals, because she's on her way to Prompto's house and taking the scenic route to get there, but she seems considerably more content with her quest prize than Shiro has been. Makes sense, really — Maslow's hierarchy of needs, and all. She's higher up on the pyramid, so the lion fills a niche that's above where Shiro's at currently. Nothing too unusual about that.

She pauses, though, when she sees him hanging around on top of the canal boat, aware that she's all but invisible in the twilight just because her oversize cloak is black fabric, even without the enchantment that makes it difficult for passerby to look at. And she's not sure what makes her decide to stop and talk, but she does, snapping her fingers and crafting a softly-glowing violet orb of light in her hand to illuminate the place where she's standing.]

Hey. Shiro, right?

[paladads]

[ The routine of making dinner and waiting for Keith to return home is a comforting one, a rehearsal that keeps Shiro's nerves even and satisfies his soldier's need for routine. That's how he finds himself on the roof wrapped in a blanket, utterly at ease with the stars and the dark waters below: that is, until a purple light crackles to life and he almost has a heart-attack as all his instincts scream Haggar.

His larger fist draws back and his features twist into a narrow scowl as he scrambles into a crouch, not relaxing until the figure holding the light source speaks and the words slowly sink in. It's not Honerva. It's ... Oh. No reason to fight.

The taunt line of his shoulders sags and his eyes widen in recognition, no longer flinty. ]

You, uh ... You're the girl from the library?

[whichcraft]

[Well, shit. Summer of all people knows a trauma reaction when she sees one; she's a creature of defensiveness and skepticism herself, hardened into survivalist paranoia from a series of events that she never had any control over, no matter how hard she tried to impose it on what little scrap of her surroundings she could. So she knows exactly what it means, when the figure on the roof goes from watching the stars to hunched and ready for a fight at the sight of her. It means she spooked him, and he was ready to kill her because of it.

...Well. She doesn't know that he was going to kill her, specifically. But she's learned the hard way that it's always better to assume that first, and be pleasantly surprised later, rather than the alternative.]

Sabrina, yeah. The witch.

[It occurs to her belatedly that maybe that's not the brightest confirmation to give when she's already startled him, but oh, well. No helping it now.]

Sorry. I know the cloak makes it hard to see me in the dark.

[It wasn't the cloak, she's pretty sure, that made him react that way. But it's an excuse, a conversational "out", that she sets up for him to take if he wants it, to help smooth things over.]

[paladads]

[ Easier to catch his breath as he sits back down and slides off the roof to the balustrade along the boat, slumping forward over the railing. He can pretend it's the exertion that makes him take a deep breath, sighing out a smile. ]

Sabrina, I remember now. What are you doing sneaking along the docks at this time of night?

[whichcraft]

Going to Grandma's house. I'm Little Goth Riding Hood.

[She turns to face him properly, one hand still holding the orb of violet light to help illuminate her in the twilight, and the other arm bent at the elbow with the plush tucked into it clearly visible.]

I have some friends who live in Bluo, so I go hang out with them a lot. My house in Ruga is like a revolving door of roommates, so I don't really spend a lot of time there if I can help it.

[paladads]

Those gothic themes are working well, I didn't see you for a minute there.

[ Until the light which he continues to eye warily. His attention switches to the toy which gains a raised brow and a chuckle. ]

You got your reward too, huh.

[whichcraft]

Sure did. I did it with someone else, too, and we got a little toy car. So I guess the rewards for that one were toys and shit; one time it was costumes, which was kind of great but also ridiculous.

[Hmmm.]

Guess a guy like you doesn't really have a whole lot of use for a stuffed animal, though, right?

[scourged]

[ He's not creeping, not this time at least. Ardyn has been wandering around since arrival, checking out what the surroundings hold and picking up the odd item here and there (thankfully no more stones, Ardyn's had enough of that thank you very much).

So when the Chancellor decides to take a look at the forest edge he notices someone nearby headed to whatever hobby it is they've decided to pick up in a place like this. Probably food related if they're smart. It only takes a second for amber eyes to spot that prosthetic arm and just like that Ardyn is giving a wave, expression nothing more than pleased to see a fellow person.]

Hello there! Shiro, isn't it?

[paladads]

[ Who this guy is, Shiro doesn't know. What he's more than aware of is how much he himself stands out and that he hasn't laid eyes on most of the people browsing the network, so making a guess is his only option. ]

Hi! [ Unfortunately, the wild look of the redheaded man throws him completely off the mark. ] I assume we've met on the forums?

[scourged]

[ Of course, forums don't come with pictures and Ardyn can only silently congratulate himself for being right. He's not seen anyone else with a prosthetic arm otherwise he would have said the same thing to someone else.]

Ah, pardon me, sometimes I forget that those forums don't come with names or pictures. It would probably make life much easier if it did. [ Ardyn takes his hat off, giving his most gracious bow, nothing but a picture of pleasantry for now before his hat is put back on. Can't be in the sun too long like that.] Ardyn Izunia, at your service.

[paladads]

[ So this is the Chancellor, the man Ignis holds accountable for the terrible haunting crimes he described. Ardyn ... has a disarming charm about him with his scruffy looks and gentile mannerisms, enough that Shiro feels his guard settle in despite the pleasant smile he continues to wear. It's not meant to be oblivious, he won't lie, but neither does Shiro have to offer up any details in particular (whether about his general knowledge of Ardyn's actions or otherwise). He settles his homemade fishing rod over a shoulder, the bait-bucket dangling from his fingertips as his weight shifts. ]

It's always good to put a face to a name. [ He tips his head toward the woodlands. ] Are you heading in too?

[scourged]

[ The man, the myth, the legend. It's almost funny in a way; for all the warnings that Ignis, Prompto and Noctis can give, they barely even scratch the surface. Fate has (for once) smiled kindly on Ardyn in terms of timelines. They can't even guess the scope of the hatred that has walked into their midst; a hatred that is currently smiling as if it's a regular old sunny day.]

Likewise, sometimes text just doesn't seem right when one is having a conversation. [ The fishing rod and bucket get a cursory glance before Ardyn turns back to the edge of the woods.] I'm certainly thinking about it. People in the town have waxed lyrical about how dangerous these woods are, but if you ask me places are only dangerous because they have something hidden within them.

[paladads]

Or because there's no one to help you out, once you venture in.

[ It should be rote habit by now how many hateful souls get caught in Shiro's orbit, if he knew more than the bare minimum he likely wouldn't make his next offer, tilting his head toward the trees. Eyes on Ardyn. ]

You're welcome to join me, I could use some conversation for when the fish aren't biting. [ And then, because lying serves him no great purpose, he wryly adds, ] I feel like I'm meeting a superstar.

[photoshooter]

[Fishing is boring, that's an unequivocal fact. But fishers make up one or two of Prompto's favorite people in the world, so when he comes across Shiro at the lake in his quest for distractions from an untenable fear situation photo subjects, the sight warms his heart automatically. He snaps three pictures of the big guy before recognition even brightens his face, and only then does he let the camera shimmer back into the Armiger.]

Oh, hey! Shiro, right?

[Prompto waves, a big and friendly gesture, and hops closer so they can talk more quietly so as not to scare the fishies.]

It's been a while. You feeling better, dude?

[paladads]

[ He hears the odd clicking and the direction registers just as a shimmer catches his eye, watching Prompto use the Armiger with a look that brightens Shiro's face (that thing is cool). Prompto has such a sunny disposition that Shiro's cheer remains, warming his features as he sticks his fishing rod into the mud and turns to wave him over. ]

Hi! Much better, thanks. You wanna help me out with the fish, see if they'll bite if you have a turn? I haven't had so much as a nibble since I set up.

[photoshooter]

Eennnnhhh.

[If the face he makes isn't enough, he also crosses his arms in an X in front of him and shakes his head.]

No offense if that's your joy, but fishing is just, like. The worst? I don't know how anyone stands still for that long, I get ants in my pants just thinking about it. I leave that stuff to the patient people!

[paladads]

It's not so bad. You can keep me company while we wait, if you like.

[ Pull up a rock or a log, friend. Amused, Shiro cocks his head as he considers Prompto's reaction. ]

You remind me of an officer I know, he's Keith's age ... kinda. James Griffin, an MFE fighter pilot. He's got barely any patience either.

[photoshooter]

Oh, man. Being a fighter pilot sounds awesome. Maybe not for me, though, the guys barely ever even let me drive the car.

[Eschewing a seat, he just crouches by Shiro with the ease of a boy who does this a lot and also still has them spry young knees.]

Makes sense, though, don't you think? I'm probably about Keith's age, too. I mean, I'm twenty-one.

[In case anyone thought he was, like, twelve.]

[paladads]

From what I've seen you're reactionary, and that's what makes a good pilot.

[ Shiro's knees appreciate the rock he sits on, even if he doesn't entirely lack Prompto's elasticity. ]

Really? [ Brows fly up under his white bangs. ] Huh, I figured you were a couple of years younger.

[ NO APOLOGY. ]

who knows when this takes place, time is fake

[unfatalist]

[It's become a sort of a habit, these days, that he just...makes enough for Shiro and Keith when he cooks. It's not even that difficult, really, to pull it off; preparing things in portion sizes of five is old hat, when he's used to cooking for four people and one of those four has a tendency to eat enough for two.

It isn't always. Certainly it's not often enough to be routine or any sort of an implication. But it's not as though the canal boat in Bluo is all that far from the house where they live, and it's not as though he minds the excuse to wander down and seek out Shiro's company on some pretense or another.

It's a dessert, today, in part because he's been surreptitiously making sweet things for Noctis to try to comfort him amidst all of the awful things that have been falling down upon him recently, and in part because it occurs to him that when one is focusing only on survival, as he expects Shiro is, there isn't a whole lot of attention being paid to a luxury like dessert. So this time, when he heads for the houseboat, it's with four berry-filled pastries in tow, stashed safely away in the Armiger where they won't get cold in transit.]

...Shiro?

no mercy

[paladads]

[ Thanks to his days spent fishing there is enough smoked fillet to last a few weeks' worth of stews, Keith and Kosmo can catch the live prey whenever a craving for meat reaches fever pitch, and the patches of wild vegetables are memorised. When it comes to dessert though, Ignis is really spoiling them because he's entirely right: nether Shiro or Keith have been focusing on anything but survival. They're hard-wired for it, blinkered even. Ignis also ought to know he's welcome to visit even without goodies but Shiro won't lie that he looks forward to the way Keith perks up when it's mentioned later on a night (in a telltale singsong) that Ignis dropped by. He loves how easily pleased Keith is by good food, the appreciation of it is rooted in years of neglect in the childcare system that Shiro will forever be making up for on behalf of Keith's past, and he is endlessly grateful for Ignis's kindness even if the other man isn't aware exactly why.

Shiro is also naked save for a towel as he steps out of the shower upon hearing his name, one arm-socket scarred and lacking its usual port that lies on the coffee table next to his Altean arm. Scars litter his broad chest, mostly smooth save a smattering of white hairs. ]

Hello? I was in the bathroom —

[ His eyes widen, having expected Keith, and he looks sheepishly taken aback, dripping all over the floor. His remaining hand cinches on the knot of his towel. ]

I-Ignis! Hi! Is everything okay?

[unfatalist]

[Good gracious.

In fairness, it's not as though he's never seen a man in such a state of disarray before. It's not even the first time he's seen someone he finds vaguely attractive like this; he's caught Noctis on his way out of the shower more than once, and of course there had been idle furtive glances stolen at Glaives and Crownsguard in the training room showers back home — it's hardly a new experience, is the takeaway point.

But he still reacts just a little slower than he probably ought to, staring just an instant too long before professionally averting his eyes and doing a graceful half-turn to afford Shiro some much-needed privacy while he feigns clearing his throat in the hopes of hiding his own embarrassment.]

My apologies, I didn't realize —

[SIX HELP HIM]

Shall I, ah. Step out, and give you a minute?

[paladads]

It's okay! I can, just ... Two secs!

[ He snatches up his sweatpants off the demonic-looking twig monstrosity that is their washing rack (he made it!) and tugs them on, tossing the towel over it instead. The shirt he pulls overhead clings to the damp patches hastily left to fend for themselves but Shiro is, in thirty seconds or so, vaguely decent for company and his chuckle huffs out to ease any awkward tension in the room. ]

Aaaand I'm good to go. [ Back in Ignis's peripheral vision, a little pinker but ultimately clothed. ] I didn't hear you knock, sorry. Did you need my help with something?

[unfatalist]

Ah — no, just. Just passing through.

[Did he knock? He's very tired. Maybe he didn't actually knock and just invited himself aboard because it wasn't like he was expecting Shiro to be bathing and therefore inclined to answer his figurative door in a towel.

The business of the arm, however, seems like a safe distraction, and he's reasonably curious anyway, so —]

Can I assist you, with your...prosthetic? I'm sure you must be well capable of managing it yourself, but if it would make things easier I'm happy to be of some service —

[paladads]

[ The way he draws up when he realises he isn't wearing his arm is tense but not standoffish, easing out as he gestures to his empty shoulder. His smile softens gratefully, equal parts blind-sided by the unexpected offer and charmed. ]

I was just taking it off for a while, actually. We don't have any moisturisers so the hot water helps the scars soften. [ In a more patient tone, he amends, ] I can put it on if it's weirding you out to see a limb casually lying around.