[log] same old love [open]

[haillenarte]

Characters: Aymeric de Borel, Estinien Wyrmblood, Francel de Haillenarte, Haurchefant Greystone, Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, and any others in the area!
Location Building 124, Building 189
Date: Day 150, Day 151
Summary: Somehow about twenty percent of Norfinbury's population manages to stay in the same buildings at the same time despite an utter lack of coordination. Also, hungry elves are fed.
Warnings: House being House; Aymeric doing questionable things.

124: This house, covered in snow, is dark and cold, but better than outside. The snow presses in on the windows and makes the roof creak and groan whenever it shifts, but it seems to be holding up alright. It's a standard, single-story house with a living room, single bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and dining room. The bedframe has been taken apart, and its pieces arranged neatly from largest to smallest on the floor. The house is sparsely furnished, unfortunately with mostly metal. There's a back door leading off into darkness, but it isn't locked.

189: A single bedroom apartment. It's seen better days, but the door locks up at night. The window is sealed shut, with snow packed in on he other side allowing no light in. It's pitch black at night, but there is a couch to sleep on, even if the bed only has its frame. The bathroom has a toilet and shower--the shower doesn't work, but the toilet does.

Comments

[dravanicide]

[Estinien, unlike Aymeric, is still fully in his armor. He's not worried about getting comfortable yet, and further from his mind is cracking open the wine. However, he catches the glance to the bag that holds their couple bottles, and makes his way over to it. Crossing his arms he looks down at the Lord Commander with an unamused look.]

Getting comfortable, are we?

[His tone suggests something more. Like implying just how comfortable Aymeric plans to get. He knows you're thinking about touching the wine!!]

[heiresy]

[Aymeric tucks his backpack into the corner out of his reach, wincing slightly as the bottles clink together in an obvious and suspicious tone.]

Plenty comfortable. Will you be sleeping on your armor, Estinien?

[dravanicide]

'Twould be a waste of time to take it off, would it not?

[Which is his way of saying yes. It takes too much effort to take it off, just to out it back on again in the early morning.]

Full glad am I that you are comfortable, Lord Commander. Surely you need naught else to aid you in such comforts, then.

[HINT HINT, NUDGE NUDGE. LEAVE THE WINE BE.]

[heiresy]

Why, have you someplace to be? We have no options aside wasting our time.

[He gathers the hint, so he decides to spend his energy on Estinien now.]

We haven't any proper bedding and we can't start a fire in here. How do you propose we stay warm with you covered in that cold metal?

[dravanicide]

You know well I do not.

[He pauses a moment, his head slightly tilting to the side.]

...and what do you propose we do for warmth, then?

[He's hoping he isn't proposing what he thinks he is.]

[heiresy]

You act as if you've never had to stand a day of cold in your life.

[Save your hopes for something reasonable, Estinien.]

We should huddle under the blanket, as everyone else will be doing. There is no shame in claiming some small bit of comfort for oneself.

[dravanicide]

[He's silent as he glances to the others in the room. His mouth pressing to a hard, thin line. Sure, it's not as if Aymeric and him didn't share space before to keep warm, but it was hardly in the immediate presence of others.

Not that he's ashamed of such acts, but more so he hardly is the cuddly type, and to do so in front of others isn't exactly preferable.]

I feel fine.

[heiresy]

And yet I will be cold! I would want to share warmth. It cannot be as much trouble as you pretend it is.

[He crosses his arms]

Surely you are practiced with removing it.

[dravanicide]

Are you requesting me to take off mine armor and warm you then, Lord Commander?

[Said completely deadpan as he stares down at Aymeric, his arms still crossed over his chest almost defiantly. But if he really wants him to, if he's actually so cold, then so be it.]

[heiresy]

[Aymeric smiles softly as his eye narrow. This is a stupid position that they've put themselves in but he sees no better alternative.] I am. The floor is cold and I've nothing to warm my veins.

[We are pretending there isn't wine, so yes, please get on the god damn cold floor with me.]

[dravanicide]

[Estinien's quiet for a long moment, as if he's not going to listen, perhaps say something contrary, stand his ground, etc. But instead, he finally moves, and it's to start to remove his armor.

He does so meticulously, with years of practice, efficient and almost graceful in an odd way. Each piece having some mechanism built in so that it can fit as snugly to the wearer as possible. Before long, he is in nothing more than his under armor, his drachen mail neatly placed to the side of Aymeric's makeshift bed.

And just as silently as he had taken his armor off, he joins Aymeric, taking a seat besides him.]

[heiresy]

[He pulls the blanket around their shoulders, sinking against the wall.]

Thank you. [he almost whispers it as he places a hand on Estinien's arm where the mail is exposed, checking the flesh for coldness.]

[dravanicide]

Mm.

[It's more a grunt of acknowledgement than anything else. His eyes are on the other people in the room currently, and he barely reacts to being touched. His skin is fairly warm, but not overly so due to the chill of the room. Fortunately for Estinien he's actually a bit of a heater, so even in these extreme temperatures he fairs rather well. His armor, not being made of metal for the most part, also helps to insulate some of his temperature.]

What do you imagine is beyond this museum Lord Haurchefant aims to get through?

[heiresy]

[He's relieved that Estinien isn't freezing at least, but he doesn't move his hand.]

I haven't the foggiest idea. A gate or a portal, I hope. Even a touch of aether or a clue about our situation. Hopefully: not our deaths. As petty as it sounds, I would like to see just a bit of different scenery if we would be denied answers or passage home.

[dravanicide]

I am not so optimistic.

[He says it very curtly, in true Estinien fashion. He also doesn't protest the linger hand on his arm, letting it be, and assuming Aymeric's hand is merely cold.]

I pray 'tis not a waste of our time and effort, but this place does not instill confidence.

[heiresy]

Nay, I must agree with you.

[he removes his hand just to lean against his shoulder with his own shoulder, trying to maintain an upright position.]

But I must hold out hope for myself. If only we had our Warrior of Light. All of this seems out of hand, doesn't it?

[dravanicide]

Aye.

I fear even the Warrior of Light could do little in this place. If the Eye of Nidhogg has lost its luster, so too would they.

[He lets out an annoyed sigh, glancing to the bag besides them that holds the eye. If only he had his powers, it would make this place so much easier.]

All we can hope to do is press on, even if the endeavor may prove futile.

[heiresy]

You're right. [He felt a little skip of sickness whenever he saw the eye among Estinien's things.] We have waged a thousand year war and come out alive. We can do this, too.

[He sounded certain, though he didn't feel it. How he took his weapons for granted. He never would again, he was certain.]

What I wouldn't do for playing cards, Estinien. Or a bit of paper and a pen... I am restless here.