Difference between revisions of "Love and Dusty Armchairs"

Latest revision as of 15:07, 18 June 2013

Percival has posed:
They say home is where the heart is..

Percival felt like he'd left his in Manhatten, but Manhatten didn't feel like his home. He'd poured out his heart and soul to one individual, allowed himself the possibility to love once again... it was only proper that he not be the one chosen in the end. He'd spent a few days alone, in quiet reflection, before returning home. Suprisingly, he wasn't anywhere near as depressed as he thought he'd be over it. Maybe just allowing himself to hope had given him continued hope for the future.

Then again he might just be being his old, foolish, doofey self once again.

After a time, he'd return to the watchtower.. glancing down at the street, as if some dark reminiscence gave him the fear that the Dark Knight was going to return once again to terrorize Fluorgis, within the shadow of the Watchtower. He chuckled to himself, furled his wings over his shoulders, and started descending the steps of the tower...

Zia has posed:
It just so happens that a couple of events happened to occur right around the same time. The first was Zia's trek in search of the servant of the Gaudium Lords who had collared Skoll. The second was the events that kept Percival away. So, the two lined up quite nicely to give these two gargoyles both some time apart, and probably a bit of news to share betweeen them.

Right now, though? Zia is where Percival might expect, sitting in the 'lounge' sort of area that they'd set up, playing on her computer. She's wearing what looks like a set of makeshift pajamas and mage robes, clicking the mouse-button frantically on some sort of MMORPG, the light from the monitor reflecting off of a set of glasses that have slipped down the bridge of her nose. She's so intent on the game that she doesn't hear him land at first, and it's the sound of his talons that finally get her attention.

Looking up, Zia peers over her shoulder, just in time to die on the game. Oh well, she can respawn again anyways. The camera begins to circle around her berserker character's corpse. "Well, yer a sight fer sore eyes, lad." The room is probably a bit too dark, with the monitor one of the few lights the white gargoyle has bothered turning on. How she manages that without eyestrain is anyone's guess.

"Been out on grand adventures?"

Percival has posed:
He'd settle down on the dusty old recliner behind her, raising a small cloud as he did so.. he waved it away from his face with a hand, he didn't think they'd /ever/ get the dust out of it entirely. He almost laughed when he caught sight of her gaming. He'd actually always wanted to try it himself except that his clan.. only allowed so much when it came to technology. To have enough leisure time to game online would have gotten one ostracized by the nearly Luddite clan.

He'd peer at the screen, smiling, "So at heart, you truly are a warrioress born?" He'd wink at her, more than a little amused. "You'll have to teach me how to play, one night."

He'd shrug his wings off his shoulders, "The grandest adventure of all I think. Love. Which is probably why I've returned alone."

He'd smile at her ruefully, "Not all quests end in success, I suppose." He'd point his taloned finger at the dead character in the middle of his screen. "Your poor little avatar seems to be proof of that."

He'd tilt his head sideways, "Hadn't seen you around here much either. We tried to keep our wild parties to a minimum while you were away."

Zia has posed:
The sudden puff of dust has Zia coughing once, waving a hand in front of her nose. So much as every good roost needs to have an old comfy chair, she's got a thought to take one of those industrial strength vacuum cleaners to the thing. Once she's able to breathe again, the gargoyle gets up, stretching herself out, fingers reaching but not coming anywhere near the ceiling.

With a long sigh drawn from finally moving after so long a time, Zia smirks with a glance over towards her computer. "Nae. Ah figure Ah do enough spell-slingin in reality tha it isnae so much fun te do it again in a game." There's a quick shrug of her shoulders as she walks over, perching herself on the arm rest of the chair and pulling him into a one-armed hug. "B'sides, if the good mouse is intent on teachin me te fight, maybe Ah can at least pass this off as 'studyin'." With a laugh, she she sheepishly rubs at the back of her neck, still feeling the soreness of the work out the other day.

When he goes on to explain just what sort of 'adventure' he'd been off on, her expression turns from playful, to concerned. "Love?" Blink. Well, okay, she sort of has her own 'news' in regards to that particular subject, but somehow she'd missed the fact completely that he might have even been considering someone like that. "Ah thought the last time we talked aboot tha, that ye were goin te take some time te deal wi' the past?" Her voice isn't judgemental at all, perhaps little worried, figuring the way he points out his failures.

She'll keep her own news to herself just now, at least until she has the whole story. "Aye, Ah was busy. Evil overlords tryin te control m'friends does that te a lass."

Percival has posed:
He'd lean back in the big comfy chair, suddenly having the amusing thought of becoming the overlord of the planet of comfy.. but not too dusty, chairs. That'd be a good assignment.

"Well maybe I'd like to do a little bit of spell-slinging. Given that I can't finger wiggle up any magic to save my life.." To emphasize, he'd wiggle his talons in mid-air. Right before he put an arm around her as well, "Oh is that what Ser Senra is doing now? Well maybe I can supplement that with some of my own lessons. In exchange for teaching me how to game like the best of them, that is.." He'd just offer a grin right back at her when she laughs.

The russet-skinned Gargoyle would sigh as the topic turned to love again, "Thought that's what I'd do, sure. And at first it was more a courtly thing. I'd love her from afar, she'd never know.. but then she fell in love with me, or at least I thought she did.. and me? Well.. I couldn't lie to her. So I thought we had something, but.. she chose someone else in the end."

His expression seems distant, but then he just shrugs it off, turning the conversation back to her, "Evil Overlords is it? You might have called me, but we had some problems with one ourselves. The Emperor of Palamecia came calling for a tower-warming party. We sent him back to his country but.. the man's a Sorceror so who knows what he has up his sleeve for the future...What happened on your end?"

Zia has posed:
"He's certainly tryin te, but Ah think he's startin te realize jus how much of a hopeless case Ah am." While most gargoyles are physically fit, it doesn't mean all of them are capable fighters, just like some can use magic and some... well can't magic their way out of a paper bag. "The mages are a decent class in the game, though. Jus' gotta be careful wi' them. They're awefully squishy." Which is a problem she sometimes has to deal with in real life. Hrmph.

Rather than trying to comment on his failed attempt at love, Zia just listens, her ears tilted down slightly. "Does this mystery woman have a name?" Since he decided to share, it's kind of hard not to recipricate. "Ah guess, tha's kinda one of the things Ah've been worryin aboot, m'self." Absently, her tail twitches, "Ye remember the werewolf lad who helped me bring in m'stuff?" Pause, beat. "Err.. Ah've sorta been seein 'im for a while. It's complicated." That's when she decides it's best to latch on to the other topic. Move on quickly, maybe he won't notice!

"Well, the VALKYRI leader 'n me have been tryin te track down this witch who's workin for the Gaudium Lords. She put this collar on Skoll, usin it te try te control him." Damnit, she just mentioned Skoll again. Hrmph, moving along! "Finally tracked her down, but she'd brought company wi' her, 'n it was a tough fight. Avira managed te beat one inte pulp, 'n Ah fried the other one, but there was this... feedback from the collar 'n m'crystal got zapped pre'ty bad."

Zia fishes the chain with the blue gem out from under her clothes. By now, Percival has likely seen it more than a few times, and had been introduced to some of it's effects. However, it lacks the glow that it usually has, and there's a large crack visible across the surface. "The mouse suggested Ah ask around Manhattan, see if anyone's seen anythin like it b'fore. Ah thought maybe if I took a charcoal rubbin from the sword Ah gave ye, it might be able te put the pieces together." She hesitates then, wary. "Ye think yer Detectives might be able te help?"

Percival has posed:
"I'd take spunky and humble any day in a trainee over arrogant and talented.." Speaking of not being able to magic his way out of a paper back, "Eh, maybe you can try testing me to see if I have any potential at all. I've been meaning for Faruja to do it but I'm thinking you're more well-versed than he is on magic, in general."

He'd peer at the screen, then back at her, then back at the screen, then back at her, "So a lot like reality, then?" He has a teasing tone to his voice.

His own ears fold back as he reminisces for a moment, then he'd breathe out a sigh, "Oh you know her, I imagine. Maira." He'd draw her in a little more tightly in that one-armed hug, his expression actually becoming whimsical rather than depressed, "Is that right? So you've been seeing Skoll have you? I'm happy for the both of you."

He'd nod in turn with her explanation, "Doesn't sound that complicated, except for what happened to your jewel.."

He'd peer at it, "You never really told me all of what it does. Was the magic damaged as a result?"

He'd take a moment to think about the matter, then nod, "They've got a lot of unsolved cases, but I'm thinking that the Network might be able to be of assistance. They're generally pretty good at ferreting out information." He'd take off his swordbelt, with the sword still sheathed in it's scabbard, "Of course you can take a rubbing. As far as I'm concerned, it's still yours. I'm just keeping it on loan until you find someone more worthy of possessing it.." He'd wink, to indicate that he wasn't particularly worried that she would find someone, nor that he was actually all that depressed.

Zia has posed:
"Well, bein talented has only ever gotten me inte trouble." Her skill with magic is what got her purchased by Valen in the first place, tossed around like some sort of posession from one monster to the next. "As for magic, Ah havenae any clue how te teach elemental magic. It always just came te me." Zia waggles her fingers in the air, drawing a breeze through a bit of dust still clinging in the air. "If ye felt a kinship te any element, maybe Ah could help there, but... te teach from scratch..." Her response is a simple shake of her head. "Book magic is different, though."

She doesn't get offended by his little taunt, and prods him once in the shoulder with a taloned finger. "Says a boy who gets himself squished far more often than me."

The identity of the mystery woman is a familiar name, but she and the firey VALKYRI hadn't had much experience with one another, really. It's not enough for her to be able to make much of a judgement, so she just nods once. "Well, tha isnae the complicated part. The complicated comes with..." Zia begins to tick things off on her talons. "Two species who dinnae express affection the same way, apparently. So we keep gettin our wires crossed." Tick. "Tha he may or may nae be still in love wi' Avira." Tick. "Tha fer all anyone knows, he's goin te live forever." Tick. "An let's nae forget tha he's got some destined true love 'n the chances of me bein it are worse than playin the lottery."

At that point, she's out of fingers and seems to give up on pointing out her confusion. The crystal seems the simplier of the two things for now. "Well, maybe if one of them has even seen somethin like it, they could point me the right way." She does tend to get along with the girls of the Network, so maybe that would work out well enough. It would give her a reason to go seek them out. Besides, she has been meaning to talk to that strange man, Will, for a while now.

Zia gets up as he takes out the sword, walking over to her chair to fetch up some tools from her bag of random stuff she keeps there. "Well, b'sides allowin us nae te turn te stone, m'da said it offered some sort of longevity." She hesitates, crouching, her eyes looking through the bag, tail tucked. "He told me once tha ye was about three hundred years old when he met m'mum." She leaves it at that, knowing that Percival can put the pieces together. Gargoyles don't normally live that long.

Percival has posed:
"Talent gets everyone in trouble I think. Look at me. I may be a rather talented warrior for our world.. but so far it's gotten me maimed more times than I can count, I'm coming to realize that my skills aren't quite going to cut it. Not against a man who can summon a meteor to level this whole block, then restore the block with but a flick of his wrist." He rubs the back of his hand against his brow. Grinning as she prods his shoulder, "Hey, at least I'm self-aware of my overall squishiness. As I recall, that sometimes occurred because I might have stood in front of her royal squishiness."

He'd nod in a similar fashion, "We had some... crossed wires too. Not quite as many. But now she's with a man who can at least give her everything she ever wanted.." He'd shrug at her, "Life moves on. With or without me, so it might as well be with me.." And then he'd tilt his head to the side, "Well.. I can't believe that /I'm/ the one saying this, but the boy needs to move on, unless he wants to become a wishy washy wreck like I was.."

"....really? Forever? Well then he'd best learn to live in the moment, before a few centuries pass him by and he's realized that he's nothing to show for it." And then he'd just grin at her, "Oh, just like out of the tales? I don't know, you truly seem like you ought to be /someone/'s destined true love. I'm thinking that she's closer than Skoll thinks."

He'd continue peering at the crystal, before tapping a single finger tip, just below the talon against it. "I'll put in a word for you. Let them know you're looking for them."

And then after she gave her explanation, he'd let out a low whistle, "I think the eldest I've ever heard of lived to be just shy of two hundred. Three hundred, and still with enough life left in him for a whole family? That's some strong magic in there."

Zia has posed:
"Aye. All the magic from our world doesnae mean much against the sort of things people here can do. It's kinda amazin, and kinda terrifyin." With a shake of her head, the white gargoyle tries her best not to think about just how powerful some of the beings she's seen are. The Gaudium Lords that they had worked so hard to defeat, and nearly lost their lives to more than once... were still only underlings. It's a frightening thought to imagine how powerful the enemy might really be.

"Her royal squishiness appreciates the good knight's nobile sacrifice." This time, Zia goes out of her way to be silly, and speaks in an elaborate, posh, British accent, complete with a little wave of her hand. She's probably trying to immitate the queen, but is likely missing a few decades of age and a few corgis.

A scroll of paper is set to the side, but she roots around some more, still searching for her charcoal. It's a task that gets derailed slightly when he goes on to talk more about her particular issues. "Says the young man who beat himself up for how many years over his lost love?" Maybe it's a low blow, but she eyes him over her shoulder. "Ah think Ah can spare the lad a few weeks te come te grips, hrm?" In reality, she doesn't particularly mind that he had sought out Avira. If she was going to peg one of the two of them as his wolf, she wouldn't have put money on herself, either.

"Ah've seen him come back from things tha should have killed 'im, but he doesnae seem te know for certain." She finally finds the charcoal and stands up, walking back over with the scroll tucked under one arm. "Ye see, this is why Ah dinnae tell ye things aboot m'love life. Ah'm all confused and yer tryin te make me feel be'er." With one hand, she wields the scroll and waggles it at his nose, and then seems to realize how silly her protest is, and just laughs at herself.

Taking the sword, Zia sits down next to the dust-recliner and starts to unroll the scroll over it. "He still looked young, te me. Ah wouldnae have thought he was more than fifty or so." The charcoal is rubbed over the scabbard, and an image of the etchings starts to appear from it. "Then again, Ah've worn it a long time, m'self." Which suggests she might just be older than she looks. "But... wha'ever power it has, got fried."

Percival has posed:
"Seems that way...all I know is I'm going to need to get a wee bit more skill under my belt if I'm going to be worth anything to anyone in the near future.." He'd grumble, rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes.

And then his eyes would light up with amusement, his accent changing in an instant, "So it's bloody going to be like that, is it? God save the Queen ...of squishiness. Now all you need is a rotten little dog."

His eyes flicker slightly at the low blow, as he looks away, "I know it's not particularly fair of me, Zia.. just.. I'm hoping he doesn't get consumed by it, like I did. Even if the situation is a little different.."

He just mulls over that for a while, "Immortality seems like it's more a curse than a blessing all the time...always did wonder why the humans think it's some grand goal to pursue." He'd watch her make the rubbing, "Well, sure I am. Trying to make you feel better is what clanmates do, isn't it?"

His ears fold back as he peers over the scroll, "Huh.. Only looking to be fifty at three hundred. Well, I wouldn't mind living a touch longer I suppose, just not immortality..." He'd tilt his head to the side, regarding her with a thoughtful look, "Well maybe we can restore it back for you. Somehow."

Zia has posed:
"Ah think we all need a wee bit more skill." Zia agrees, glancing over at him through the shadow from a few strands of white hair. She also sticks her tongue out at him, offering a foolish sort of grin in response to her own use of the Queen's likeness. "Nah, then Ah'd havete be afraid of tornados 'n witches. Think it's best te just retain m'Sco'ish pride 'n waggle m'kilt at ye southerners." Mostly, she just wiggles her nose instead.

The shapes of the strange square-ish letters begin to show through on the paper. They're symbols she's looked at a hundred times, but still don't make much sense to her. Like many of the world's languages, she just doesn't know what these runes might mean, or where they came from in the first place. "Ah didnae mean te dredge up bad memories. The wolf isn't the sort te let tha consume him. He lives too much in the moment, Ah think. He lost his world, his family, his freedom... Ah dinnae think one minor trial of the heart will be enough te defeat him."

Zia is careful this time as she rolls the scroll back up. "Tha's the plan. Talk te yer detectives, see if we cannae find someone who knows somethin aboot these letters, 'n then try te track them down 'n find out if they know anythin aboot the crystal." With the copy of the pattern made, the gargoyle offers the sword back out to Percival.

"Are ye goin te be alright, though, truely? Ah can always go talk te the lass if ye'd like..." She leaves the option out there. Not that she would likely have much influence, but still.

Percival has posed:
The russet-skinned Gargoyle just would pause, and stroke his chin, as if considering the issue, but he put it out of his mind for now, and then he'd glare daggers at her, before giving her a light-hearted laugh. "Tornadoes and witches you say? I'm thinking that you're getting a bit too big for your fancy skirt britches. Remember, that's where we came from too." He'd place the part of the finger right after where it meets the talon against her nose and waggle it a little more for her. "...or I could just call you Sam."

He'd peer over at the runes, but they made even less sense to him. He'd give her a thoughtful look, "Maybe not, then. He seems to be in a much better place than I was.."

He'd take back the sword belt, and stands briefly from the patented COMFY CHAIR, to rebuckle it around his waist. "I'll let them know.. VALKYRI too, even though I don't know if they'd have someone quite as well versed on the matter.."

And then on the final issue, he winces, despite himself, "I'm not sure that'd be a good idea Zia. We'll still be friends, the two of us but... the one she's chosen despises me. Might be that he has a good reason for it too."

Zia has posed:
While he plays along with her strange stories of witches and tornados and little yippy dogs, Zia can't help but feel a little bit more at ease. This is part of the reason that she gets along so well with Percival. They have that sibling sort of thing going on without actually being siblings. After he wiggles her nose a bit more, she twitches it like a bunny and smirks. "Ah think Ah'll stick te just bein me if ye dinnae mind."

"Aye. If there's anyone ye find who may have seen somethin like it, let me know, would ye? Ah'll try te talk to the detectives m'self, but every bit helps." The rolled up scroll is set back down next to her computer, and she leans over to do a few mouseclicks, dropping herself back to the login window for the game.

It's a momentary distraction as her mind rumbles through other thoughts. "Ah dinnae imagine it would be easy te have tha happen." Skoll had experienced it, and so had Percival, but what would happen if it came down to the wolf being chosen over her? As much as she'd worked to become a stronger person, everyone has their doubts, and matters of the heart are her weakest point just now.

Even so, Zia straightens herself, reaching for an actual lamp before shutting off the computer monitor. "Ah'm sure ye'll have other chances, though. Sooner or later, we're goin te stumble on some clan of beautiful red-headed gargoyles 'n yer goin te be up te yer nose in females lookin fer attractive, noble young knights ready te sweep them off their feet."

Percival has posed:
"You being you is still a holy terror." He'd smirk at her in turn.

"Of course. Maybe you could try Isaac, he knows more about the arcane than anyone I've met.. well, on the side of the angels that is." He'd settle back down in the big comfy chair, more dust. More coughing, more waving of the hand to try and ward it away.

"Well best I can do is to just be here to make you feel better, no matter what the outcome might be. And you can always call me to go hunt down the boy, seems he has a problem with disappearing on you.. not that I'm saying it's /his/ fault." He'd tsk, rapping his talons idly on the armrest of the chair, but not hard enough to bring up gouges.

He'd arch an eyebrow, how'd she know that he liked fiery red hair? Did he let her know once? Oh no, he did, when it came to Priel. He was never going to hear the end of it for that. He'd just groan, "More likely they'd sweep me off /my/ feet knowing our kind. It took Maira beating me over the head with her feelings for me to acknowledge mine."

Zia has posed:
"Ah will have ye know tha Ah would be an un-holy terror thank ye very much." Zia points out, raising one talon. "Ah've pointed out te the dear mouse more than a few times tha' Ah'm an evil pagan sort, so clearly Ah cannae be trusted." It's funny that two of the people she's closest two both are religious sorts, but at least neither of them come knocking on her door to preach.

As he throws up another cloud of dust, Zia coughs into her robes, "Can ye jus sit somewhere else until we get tha bloody thing cleaned?" At least she coughs in that cute, high-pitched sort of way, which makes it almost funny.

"Well, the wolf promised he wouldnae disappear quite so often, so ye may expect him te come around." At least, she's hoping that he'll stick to his word on that. For now, Zia grabs onto one of the roll-around chairs, which makes a strange sound on the uneven stone floor. "Seems te me, most of the men Ah know are a little on the dense side." She folds her arms across the back of the chair, leaning her head on it.

"We're kinda hopeless, ye know tha, right?" She offers a smile.

Percival has posed:
"Such an evil pagan.." He'd chortle, "Compare it to me, we're sworn to the Church of England, but we wove our /pagan/ beliefs into our faith. We weren't going to be divested of them quite so easily. For example, did you know that my clan believes that the famed Jesus Christ was one of Oberon's children?"

He'd give her an innocent look, "What? Every roost needs a recliner. A big comfortable one, but if you're insisting.." He'd get up, and seat himself down on the chairs instead.

"At least you're just hopeless, me? I'm /dense/ and /hopeless/. What with me being a man you know. You should see me during daylight, I'm at least thrice as dense." He'd offer her a wry grin, chuckling.

Zia has posed:
"Ye can have the chair back when Ah've cleaned the thing." Zia states, shooting it evil looks as if she were expecting it to start puffing out dust on it's own without a gargoyle butt to sit there. Maybe she could find a place that would sell vacuum cleaners when she's in Manhattan. Then again, finding a place that wouldn't freak out at a gargoyle walking in? Hrm. That's a bit harder a task.

His comment about how they turned biblical figures into Children of Oberon gets a raised brow from the white gargoyle, "Why do Ah have a feelin tha some of this mergin happened over a pint of ale? Or worse, the result of a dare." It sounds about right for the Scottish.

With a light on in the room, she seems to finally realize what time it is. "Gah, it's tha early already?" With a glance at her computer, she scowls. "Foul device, stealin all m'time." She wouldn't get rid of it, not ever, computers are life. Cough. With a rub to the side of her head. "Ah'm gonna go make somethin te eat. Come have some dinner wi' me 'n maybe we'll have some time te make ye a character on the game before dawn."

As she gets up, the comment about being dense draws another little joke. "Did ye know ye sleep wi' yer mouth open? Ye almost had a couple'a sparrows movin in." It's got to be just teasing, right?

Percival has posed:
"Awwww.." He mock complains, with an exaggerated intonation, he didn't think the chair was evil at all! Merely comfy. Excessively comfy despite its dustiness.

He'd still chortle once again, "Nah. It just makes sense when you think about it. Magical powers, incapacitated by cold iron nails.. came back afterwards? I'm thinking that a pint of ale was still involved for that leap of logic. Dares might have been involved, after all we're talking about the culture that invented golf."

He'd get up at that point, "That's right, I don't think I've ever actually cooked for you.. How about you let me tackle the cooking tonight, just so you can spend a little more time on that devil machine. We'll eat together afterwards..."

And then he'd start walking downstairs to the kitchen, pausing midstep, "Wondered if that funny taste in my mouth was real or not. Shouldn't even taste it there, what with our stone skin flaking away. Unless you're teasing me, and I'm being.../extra/ dense, again."