video; un: deathweaver

[respired]

[ So, that relatively cheerful guy dancing with everybody on the beach--he's gone. He's out of here. Koltira leans forward, his expression pained, jaw clenched. There's a flat piece of wood on the ground beside him with the start of an intricate filigree carved into it, but he's set it aside. He's focused entirely on the jewelry. ]

I feel unwell.

[ His guttural, echoing voice is rougher than usual; he sounds like jagged rocks scraping against each other, and the strange ethereal reverberation does nothing to better the effect.

He's experiencing, for the first time in years, something like fatigue. It's discomfiting, impossible. His kind does not tire. And yet here he is, feeling--not exhausted, but legitimately weary. ]

The ocean is not rife with magic, but it provides some sustenance.

[ He shakes his head, as though trying to clear his vision. Some sustenance. Not enough. ]

If anyone has found other sources, I would know of them.

[ His voice drops to an almost feral growl. ]

Or a solution.

Comments

[wardance]

[ What a tsundere. Who would have thought...! Perfect, he compliments the yandere in Gilgamesh over these types of things.

Masamune frowns at Koltira. Although he can't read minds, if he knew there was issue with being called cute with those ears, he would have to break to him that he needs to take a long look in a mirror sometime.

Of course, that frown flatlines a little at the explanation. Sensitive and taboo? He's pretty sure you could beat a small child to death with them, how the hell they get by having sensitive ears longer than their head, he doesn't know.

Ah, but since he's on a roll... he flashes a smile, sitting up on his knees. If he could get up right now, he would be way more intimidating. Down here he looks sparkly with his smile and in his element and harmless... for now. Definitely emanating that touchy feely child vibe. ]

So what you're saying is I can touch them, just under condition? [ S-link status required ?? ]

[respired]

[ Koltira just groans, one eye shut, his mouth a grimace. He's ready for this kid to be on his way. ]

Yes. Conditions that are unlikely to be met.

[ By anyone here. ]

1/2

[wardance]

[ If he had a tail, it would definitely be wagging. Whether like a dog or a cat, though... well, that's harder to anticipate than one would think. ]

Got it. Hopefully between that and the magic or whatever, you can be in a little less discomfort now. Physically, I mean. [ Your mental discomfort from his shenanigans, on the other hand... well, emotionally constipated people have a lot to deal with, it's unfortunate.

But, the comment still slips in a questionable detail: did he just go borderline sexual harassment(??) to try and distract this stranger to try and distract him from his physical suffering, even if just a little? Is that what he's saying? Because it sure may sound like it. ]

Anyway, Dreamweaver, yes? Please sit here and tolerate my company little while longer. Then you may be off, if you like. Or I will be, if you like this spot.

[ Masamune doesn't say any more nor does he make any moves toward the other. All he does is bow his head and sit in silence, placing his hands on his knees. ]

ok sorry there were some major technical difficulties with posting this /sweat

[wardance]

[ Hopefully the other will stubbornly linger to keep his nice resting spot, because if he doesn't, Masamune may become a pest again. Best not to chance it, yes? Silence must be fantastic right now, Koltira. And being not harassed.

It's fifteen minutes, maybe twenty maximum before the young warlord moves. He reaches forward with his right hand to scoop up some sand and gets to his feet, this time backing further off from The elf rather than approaching. Taking a deep breath, he looks down at his own hand now, open palmed with the sand acquired earlier. His expression is a bit hidden due to his hair falling even more into his face than normal, but the best conclusion is he's analyzing rather than simply feeling some type of emotion before curling the fingers of his palm-up hand inwards to create a fist.

Something sparks then, initially like a fire trying to be created from flint, but the rise in static and the small crackling current that starts to weave in and out of sight about his hand and wrist suggest that it is not a fire that's being created, even to those who can't sense it's lightning, already.

A sudden thunder clap jaggedly claws the silence in the air and may even blur the vision momentarily in the 'burst' depending on how sensitive the user is in their hearing. Immediately following such-- but only for a split second --it seems as if there is a flash of intense light and heat that makes the sunny day and it's shade seem like night and the tropical heat of this world a cold front upon initial recovery. All of this from start to finish is gone almost as instantly as it comes, despite feeling far longer than no more than two seconds. ]

Here. [ Masamune tosses something to Koltira: a small glasslike orb. While transparent, inside are distinct veinlike streaks of white, blue and purple. It's almost as if something alive and moving has been frozen in motion— stored, more accurately. For someone who pretty much exists to magic, like Koltira, upon contact he'll be able to tell that the contents have been exactly that: stored and contained in their initial state. The other's hand touching it is enough for those 'veins' to cause the coloration inside them move thick and sluggish, almost like one might suspect to visualize blood coursing through a circulatory system. ]

It's not as potent as I hoped it would be. [ He nods towards the item, looking a little bit... it's hard to tell, but 'unsatisfied' might be a good word. Koltira probably will understand what Masamune is referring to, at least, if he's handled or seen lightning in its elemental state in some way: where the blue-white veins collapse in color to lilac and then darker purples is the sign of this world's draining effect. Masamune's inherent abilities almost never, even when his health is critical, produce anything colder than blue.

He lifts his hand now in demonstration: lightning sparks in a volatile and large quantity, but immediately fizzles out despite the aggressive initiation. ]

That's about 95% of what I got. That had been my original plan, but I guess you got a bonus. I should have known that if Gilgamesh is capable of feeding that way for magic, then you would have had your own ability, too.

[ The One-eyed Dragon makes a face. ] I don't really understand your worlds' kinda 'magic', but I can only figure their painful nature has to do with them doubling as a weapon. I wouldn't be able to recover my full power as quickly even without this mess, but, as you can see, it doesn't physically harm or disable me the way yours does. Yours is easier for me to recover from in terms of time and rapidity, but it's way more dangerous to me if we were enemies in battle.

[ To Masamune, it's better to know now than when it matters. The young lord sighs, closing his eyes as he considers anything else he should say. ]

I can't tell you how effective it will be or for how long: even if it wasn't weakened by this place. We only need to retain a fragment of our energy to recover and reassimilate we have never been able to use it faster than it recovers.

[ He's rambling, he feels, but-- ] What I'm saying is, I can tell you have an issue with the way your abilities work, unlike King Ego-up-his-Ass. I can admire someone who is honest in their need for help even if they would rather not cause the burden. If you need a source and you don't want to hurt people, I'll help you— if you're willing to ask, that is.

It may be unavoidable you need other sources at this rate, in this situation. Some things are necessary to sacrifice for survival. But, I'm still willing to ease your guilt a little at your consent.

See how far you can milk that before it runs dry. Or, if it really suits you, help others with it. I don't really care. It's yours now.

That's all. [If nothing else, the mercurial nature of this little dragon is sharply noticeable. Is he even the same person that just, no more than half-an-hour ago, was acting like a child to have an opportunity to touch an elf's ears just because? ]

[respired]

Deathweaver.

[ He grimaces at having to correct the epithet. It's not one he's personally fond of, but he can't bring himself to abandon it, either. It was pressed upon him for a reason, and he finds that he does well not to forget it.

As Masamune gathers the sand, Koltira observes intently (if blearily); he feels the crack of lightning well before it actually happens, catching the sharp scent and the hiss of magic in the air. His hearing, too, is extraordinarily sensitive (hence the ears), but he doesn't flinch at the loud noise. Rather, his eyes widen slightly, his interest deepening as he watches Masa work.

Masa tosses him the orb, and he catches it handily. It's warm with power, and Koltira runs his thumb over it wonderingly. He regrets, even more, that he grabbed Masa so roughly earlier.

At the mention of Gil, though, he shakes his head. ]

Gilgamesh and the other Servants ... As I understand it, their methods are somewhat less intrusive than mine.

[ Not that he's much acquainted with those methods, either way. He pockets the orb, smooths down his jacket. ]

My apologies. Patience is not my strongest virtue.

[ He palms the orb in his pocket, comforted by its presence, by the knowledge that he has this resource, should circumstances become dire. ]

And I thank you for this. I won't forget.