awashlogs | Badly Injured Man Not Done Partying Yet

[ oh... ]

I knew you weren't here to cuddle. [ a sigh, but more soft to match her tone. ] No it isn't. I've lost patches of color before due to other activities I took part in. Color loss applies to me as much as anyone.

[ she went down a well with okuyasu for a night, but she won't say that part. ]

[You know, he really can't help but to snort. He's never eating a caramel apple again! He won't even touch a god damn fish if it's magically dropped right in front of him.]

Had that been my intention, you would have assuredly barred the doors and the windows.

[That aside, though, the rest of what she said is so incredibly interesting! And... alarming, because that means that his suspicions are correct: he is also vulnerable to such things. HMM. He pauses for a moment, tilting his head as he thinks.]

But was an individual responsible for this temporary loss, or was it something... more difficult to trace?

The latter. [ she picks up her tea cup and gives the warm tea a sip, setting it back onto its plate with a frown to him. ] There's no need to beat around the bush Mogget. It's rather obvious which quest you're referring to now.

[He blinks back at her, eyes narrowing the slightest bit. Damn, girl.]

I was never trying to hide it; in fact, I believed it to be obvious the moment I spoke of your ancestry. I merely wished for you to understand why I came to ask for your assistance. [A SNIFF.] And why it would be in your interest to accept. One must know one's limits in a place such as this, especially when they are... gifted.

[With the way he says that, though, it's obvious that he means cursed.]

I'm truly humbled.

[ dead flat. she folds her hands together in a clasp, considering his obvious request. she could say no and what would he do? though he's clearly a great being of some nature, he's also just a cat. and if he wanted to just take her color for his own little schemes, he would just do it wouldn't he? so... ]

Mogget, I'm not opposed to completing any quest I feel... morally capable of participating in. If I felt a quest was wrong to complete, I would not take part in it and leave it to others to accomplish. And taking a person's color is dangerous. A friend of mine lost all of his for a short period of time and it sucked away all his emotions with it.

...All of that said, I will accept your request if you would be willing to entertain a condition of mine.

[Mogget gives her a look at that's just as flat as her tone, but he wisely decides to keep his mouth shut. He knows it's a dangerous quest! Truth be told, that's why he chose her in the first place: he assumed that, given her supposedly divine ancestry, some part of her would protect her color—her essence—from disappearing completely. But rather than, you know, explain this like a reasonable being, or explain that he's done this once before and everything turned out FINE, he heaves a sigh of his own.]

Very well, girl. Name your price, and I will tell you if it is too high. [A beat, and then, because he just CAN'T control that tongue of his:] If it is another lecture, however, do save your breath.

[ her brow furrows a little at that! rude as always even when he's asking her for such a big favor. ]

Just... when I tell you to stop, please do so. That's all.

[ she doesn't want to end up the way guren did. unable to even properly express herself to others, a shell that can walk and talk but does so without any feeling or heart behind it. such a fate frightens her, even temporarily. ]

Edited 2018-11-05 03:22 (UTC)

[Sir Mogget the Rude. But... well, as rude as he genuinely is, her request still takes him by surprise. Mogget values many things—fish, the warmth of the sun, life in (most of) its many forms—but nothing is more valuable to him than personal autonomy. After spending centuries as a slave, he would never think to force an individual to do anything? To push them beyond their personal limits? It's an abhorrent thought.

But only, like, two people know this in the entire world, because he's bossy and snippy and he never takes the time to explain himself properly. You'd think he'd learn from these many experiences and actually change, but... nah. He does, however, leap from his seat, pad over to stand in front of Zelda, and, after catching her eye, incline his head in what is honestly the cat equivalent of a bow.]

Asking such a thing is the same as asking for a gift after it has been given, but I assure you—I will stop the very moment you wish me to, or the very moment I sense that something is wrong. You have my word.

[He looks back up at her, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He shouldn't be offended, especially not when he's hoping to get this quest DONE, but... here he is! Mildly offended! Because he's the worst!]

I respect the choices others make, Zelda, even if your kind enjoy making ridiculous ones. That is why I came to ask for your assistance.

But of course. And... I accept your request.

[ she doesn't distrust mogget or his intentions, but she can't hide how outwardly nerve-wracked she is over this. being able to say when she can stop helps her too, so she doesn't push herself past the reasonable limits. her typical confidence is not on display as she extends out her right hand to him, curling it open to be flat for him to take. she did agree to this and she won't back out now. ]

Go on.

[He's GRUMPY! That's not going to change any time soon, judging by the way the fur on his back is all fluffed up, but he's not about to let his injured pride get in the way of his work; he only takes a second to huff before lifting a paw and setting it right in the middle of her open palm. The world doesn't revolve around him, but he definitely doesn't, you know... spend much time thinking about other people...]

You must stay perfectly still, and if you feel faint... do try to lean the other way.

[Case in point. But at least he doesn't say anything else; instead, he focuses intently on her hand, emerald green eyes widening... and beginning to glow. If Zelda is paying attention to him, she'll notice that the edges of his form seem to blur, almost like he's shifting in and out of focus, and his shadow begins twisting and churning down on the floor. It's all very unsettling, to say the least, but maybe that stuff will become less apparent the very second he begins siphoning her color away. Maybe.

It's... slow, at first. Very slow, actually, because Mogget's self-control is surprisingly strong, but even he can't prevent it from gradually picking up speed. Goodbye, color...]

[ mogget's sudden changes, from the shine of his eyes, the way his body is there and isn't, it distracts her from looking down at her skin. for better or worse she's more focused on him, afraid to see what the loss of color looks like, and her expression is severe throughout. as seconds tick and her skin starts to look sickly to the casual observer, her face begins to lose its hold. not out of losing focus, but because of an unsettling numbness she only vaguely notices is coming over her. the nerves she had before are gone and replaced with a hollow emptiness.

her eyes finally break from him to look down. the warmth of her peach tones has paled. ]

Stop.

[ said simple and plain, without fear or worry about the progress made. there isn't a trace of panic in her, but emotion doesn't need to contribute to rational. it's simply time to stop. ]

[Taking another's color feels just as Mogget thought it would: exhilarating. In a way, it's similar to having his ancient shackle removed for that final time, when the power that had been locked away for so long came coursing right back through him. Siphoning another's energy is a... rejuvenating thing, an intoxicating thing, but—

...But. As soon as he hears that single word, he immediately forces himself to lift his paw from her hand. A part of him enjoyed that! A part of him enjoyed that too much, honestly, but as he comes back to himself—edges solidifying, shadow stilling, eyes dimming—he places his paw firmly on the ground and takes the briefest of seconds to compose himself. It's all... over. For him, anyway, but for her...]

Hmm. [A quiet, thoughtful noise as he takes in her grey skin, her dull, uh... everything. He's not going to say anything alarming, buuuuut he can't stop his ears from going right the heck back.] It is more than I believed you to be capable of, but the strain plainly shows. How do you... feel?

Nothing.

[ her answer is immediate, as she doesn't need to take the time she normally would to evaluate her state of being. there's no contemplation to be had when she feels nothing at all. she pulls her hand back to her lap, expression plain and the light in her eyes no longer flickering with the life they so typically would.

it's... similar to how it was inside ganon, she realizes. trapped for a century and encased in the seal she created to keep them both chained together. she didn't feel much then either, as time marched on and she had to keep herself in check to not break her focus. ]

I feel my age. [ she says calm and honest, not feeling the need to bottle up something so incriminating. ] I recognize the state I'm in is not good, but there is no connection to my heart. As if I'm observing myself from afar.

[He walks from side to side as she talks, observing her from different angles while paying close attention to everything she says. This was an experiment, one that gave him new insight into the magic of this place—even though he didn't learn more of the magic within her. A pity, really, but he'll still consider this a success. He's pleased with what he's learned! And she'll be none the worse for wear when this whatever-it-is wears off, he's sure of it, but listening to her nearly monotone voice is...

...Well. He doesn't feel terrible about putting her through this, but that doesn't mean he feels smug about it, either.]

That sounds rather convenient, if you ask me. The perfect opportunity for a spot of self-reflection. [It's said with perfect sincerity, because welcome, Zelda, to every day of his life. Not that he devotes much time to self-reflection.] How old are you?

[Teens and their many problems. He leaps up onto the arm of her chair, nonchalantly getting a closer look at her face.]

It's a blend. Sometimes I'm 17. Other times, I'm not.

[ zelda's eyes don't follow mogget as he moves, detached from her usual musing and curiosities and suspicions. self-reflection? for what purpose? it's a duality and even in her deadened state of mind she doesn't know for certain what age she would say she is. right now, empty and removed from herself, she is 117. other times she's 17 and acting foolish and flighty. the two states come together and make up who she is and to say one way or the other is hard.

she wants to be 17. she is 117. ]

[He leans the slightest bit closer, peering at each of her eyes before sitting back with a quiet snort. Teen dramatics? This has to be teen dramatics. Oh, to be seventeen again would be... terrible, actually. Barely more than an embryo.]

This feeling will only get worse as you age. Or so I hear, anyway. I really wouldn't know.

[He's just sayin'. But after giving her one last look, he hops back down to the floor, taking a few steps away before glancing back at her over his shoulder.]

I take it you can stand? Then come, girl. You need rest, and plenty of it.

I'm not tired.

[ but even with her dull and straight answer, she stands perfectly able and well. she doesn't agree with him, nor disagree, but she doesn't see the point in contesting his claim either. there's no drive to her actions and so she defaults to doing what is easiest and most convenient in the moment. if she doesn't follow his instruction, he will likely repeat it again, and get annoyed for reasons she doesn't understand. therefore listening to him is the path of least resistance; there is no drive or motivation for her to object to otherwise. ]

[Mogget enjoys complaining about how difficult people can be, yet seeing someone in this state is unpleasant? He enjoys pushing those he knows, loves seeing that spark of defiance flare up within them, but this dull, humdrum version of a normally spirited girl is not anything he takes satisfaction in. He wants to leave, honestly! To sit and just... Think about this for an hour or so, but he forces himself to continue walking onward.]

That doesn't matter.

[Just sayin'! He'll lead her right to her room, if he's able, but he won't actually go inside; instead, he'll politely sit beside the door and simply look up at her before (quietly) clearing his throat.]

It will take time before you are... back to your normal state. It might take a day, it might take three, but when you are whole once more— [He sits up straighter, looking as uncomfortable and as stiff as a cat can possibly look.] You may call upon me if you've any need of assistance. I will help however I can.

[He owes her a favor, and he's not too proud to admit it... even if he's honestly hoping that telling her about it while she's in this state means she'll just up and forget about it? He's devious.]

[ she follows him and listens but nothing he says really registers outside the words alone. his pride is disregarded, as is his typical posturing, and even his offer of assistance. she doesn't care and sees no need to care.

so she listens and looks at him as he speaks, but when he's done she opens the bedroom door and closes it behind her with a soft shut. there is no response that comes to mind and she doesn't see the point in thanking him when she's not thankful. she's not anything right now. so whether he stays or goes is of no consequence to her. ]

Badly Injured Man Not Done Partying Yet

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