We'll light up the sky [open]

[bearshermark]

WHO: Eleven & OPEN
WHEN: After dragon shenanigans to mid-month-ish?
WHERE: Taravast's gardens, artisanal district, canals
WHAT: A catch-all?
WARNINGS: None so far, will update if needed



1. garden magic (late morning)

His spirit was no longer a fragile, shattered wisp so weak he barely felt it even when he sought it. Now, soothed and nurtured over the course of two months, it sat warmly in his chest, resonant with the light of the sun and the breath of life in the grass and leaves around him. The next step was as simple as it was taxing: regaining strength much like a weakened limb. Meditation was no longer enough.

Eleven shifted up to his knees and folded his hands together in an echo of prayer. Slowly, a band of runic light circled into being- at first close to his body, then gradually expanding outward. His brows furrowed, hands clasping tighter in concentration as sweat beaded his brow and the flicker of holy energy wavered, then blinked out.

He breathed a hard exhale, settling back down in a daze. Eyes slotting open, unfocused until movement snapped his awareness to his more immediate surroundings, onto someone he hoped hadn't been there before (or for too long)- but then, his eyes had been closed since he'd begun to meditate some hour or so ago.

He blinked, a sheepish smile spreading over his face. "Ah, good morning.."


2. forging (late afternoon)

[With a handful of tasks to get through and a decent amount of coin to manage it with, Eleven manages to broker a deal to rent the forge for a span of hours a day. Most of it in extra work, but it's wonderful, simple, honest work and in another time, another dimension, it could have been the beginning and end of his worldly concerns.

In the present moment, dressed down in a blacksmith's practical wear, thoughts of politics and the undead take a backseat to the heat of the forge and the shape of molten metal beneath his hands.

Given that this isn't his forge however, he blinks to attention whenever he catches the shape of someone hovering nearby. With his hair tied back and soot stuck to his face, Eleven spares a thought to wonder if he'd even be readily recognizable if anyone from court were to spot him. Concerns and a thread of backstory to think about weaving later. For now-]

Can I help you?


3. ferrying (early-mid evening)

As the sun set and the sky darkened, Eleven donned his half-mask and the familiar comfort of his coat for a quiet evening on the water.

He drifted down the canals, a practiced hand now with near-silent strokes of the oar and ripples of a gentle wind left in the gondola's wake. Something that felt near-to an artform, and a point of quiet, insignificant pride as he slowed up to a spot at the bank where he'd made out the silhouette of someone waiting.

Eleven called out with a friendly voice and a smile lit by the edge of light from the single lantern hung from the prow.

"Where would you like to go?"

4. wildcard

[ooc: anything we've spoken about before, or otherwise adjacent to these prompts that you think might work better is fine! hit me up if you'd like to thread something else! also happy to match formatting]

Comments

2

[lancifolium]

With a basket hanging off the crook of her arm Lily entered the forges, glad she had apparated at least some of the way to preserve her cover. It wouldn't do to be spotted - a socialite in the forges was unlikely to be that common a sight, and she had spent a good deal of the way there composing a story as to why she was in a place like that at all.

She had lingered in the periphery, not wanting to startle him and risk him injuring himself - deciding when he reached a stopping point she would make herself known. When he finally did halt his efforts, it was obvious he was aware of her already. Eleven seemed so engrossed in what he was doing she almost hated to pull him away from it - but there were important matters she was increasingly certain he hadn't given enough attention to.

"Yes - though not while you're covered in soot," a grin played across her features as she took the basket off her arm and held it out. "For right now, you can stop and eat a meal, because I'm willing to bet a fair bit of gold it's been a while since you had one."

[bearshermark]

Eleven laughed, wiping the sweat from his brow with a sleeve. He took the basket with a grin and set it up on an available bit of workspace.

"You'd win that bet."

He turned for a rag and a splash of water, wiping off the layer of sweat and soot from his face, then stripped off his gloves and turned back toward her with a roll of his shoulders- not quite stiff yet at least.

"Thank you. Um." He glanced about, only just seeming to realize there wasn't really much available clear space to eat at.

"..Let me.. clear a table.."

[lancifolium]

"Oh don't say that - you've been at this nearly all day," Lily shot him a disappointed frown before she drew her wand, using a Wiping Spell on a few seats near a table that didn't look as cluttered as the scant rest dotting the forges around them.

"I brought you hand-pies, don't worry too much about a table - I assumed I'd find you like this." She smiled fondly at the thought as she crossed to one of the seats she had cleared off to settled onto it. Hopefully, if there were any marks left behind on her dress she could notice them before anyone else did.

"Are you still working on the wire for Wangji?"

[bearshermark]

Eleven paused, then watched Lily wave her wand with a smile. He often forgot she could simply do things like that. He plucked up the basket and made to follow suit.

"You're very thoughtful," he said fondly, noting how out-of-place she looked in a forge. But she was all the more radiant for it.

Eleven peered into the basket and retrieved a pie, biting into it with a soft, satisfied hum. "Thank you for this. I would have forgotten."

[lancifolium]

Flushing slightly at the compliment she shook her head at him. "I remember how you were during the siege, even though the circumstances are less dire now I still can't picture you being the sort to tear yourself away from your work."

Conjuring them a pot of tea along with a pair of cups and saucers Lily poured herself a cup and sat back. "You don't have to thank me, it's partly for selfish reasons. Don't want you falling asleep at the end of the day before I've had the chance to talk your ear off first, after all." Lily smiled at him with a shrug. She liked their evenings together. He was excellent company after all.

[bearshermark]

Talk. Eleven laughed shortly, then had to catch himself to finish swallowing before he choked. He cleared his throat, face dusted with color.

"Of course," he managed with a smile. "I'll need plenty of energy to stay awake for that."

He polished off the first pie in record time, not having realized just how hungry he was until there was food sat in front of him. Pouring himself some tea, he sat back and let that settle before he'd think about reaching for a second.

"But I'm hardly complaining." How many other smiths were visited for lunch by lovely ladies? "Your company is a gift."

[lancifolium]

Noticing the color that rose on his face Lily smiled, somehow managing to look both smug and sheepish at the same time, her eyebrows rising as she nodded. "Naturally. It would be awful if you started snoring out of nowhere - I'd take it personally."

The tops of her ears turned pink when he referred to her company as a gift and Lily stuck her foot out, nudging his calf lightly. Just because he was incredibly sweet to her as a rule, did not mean she was any better at listening to him praise her.

"Shut your face, you're delirious from the soot."

Lily reached for the basket and retrieved a punnet of blackberries, settling them on the clear part of the table between them. "Are you going to tell me what you're working on yet?"

2

[soloritur]

[ It took some time for Marcos to set about exploring, and he was surprised at how civil everything seemed after he escaped from the tower and the dragon was... what happened to the dragon? Somehow they took care of it.

His head is still spinning with everything he's tried to come to terms with since then, so he finds the forge mostly by accident. Compared to witches and zombies it's a welcome return to normalcy. Technology seems to be limited here, but he's always appreciated what you could make with your own hands. ]

Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. [ He offers a smile to the young man who catches him staring. If he weren't covered in soot, he might have seemed vaguely familiar from what he witnessed of the chaos at the tower. As it is, he isn't sure what group he belongs to when he addresses him. (They made that sound important, but so far all he's gathered is he's not allowed to be seen with Lorna in public and he's been stuck on that point ever since.) ]

... Mind if I ask what you're working on?

[bearshermark]

[An unexpected query from a vaguely familiar face. He must have seen him before, but the where escapes him]

Oh, ah..

[Eleven turns a look back on his work with a grimace] A bit of wire, actually. A commission for a rather particular man.

[soloritur]

[ Wire? Marcos moves a little closer to see. Not really what he was expecting. He nearly asks what it's for, but settles on the less intrusive question. ]

Is that your job, then? You work on commissions?

[bearshermark]

[He grins, eyes bright with amusement. The bit of practice wire can cool, as it's likely to be recast anyway]

I wish it was. But my time is rather split, so I'm only here for a few hours a day until the tasks I have are finished.

[Which, at this pace, is looking to be a few weeks, but it isn't as though he's eager to be done]

Is there work you need done?

[soloritur]

[ He seems young to be working so hard, which Marcos can't help but feel for. Especially if this is the type of work he enjoys. ]

No. [ He doesn't mean that to sound insulting, so he adds: ] Actually, if you need a hand, I would probably be better suited in a place like this. At least, I could try.

[ Not that anyone ever seems interested in that part of his skillset. ]

I was just assigned a job. I kind of wondered if that was the same for everyone.

[bearshermark]

Oh.

[He doesn't know what to say to any of that, right off. Is it normal for people to be assigned jobs? Or could it be that he knows this man from the tower?]

..Roles, perhaps. [But moving swiftly on from that should that not be the case, he smiles] You have experience in a forge?

4

[elfuego]

"Stop, stop."

With a groan, Zuko waved a hand to stop Eleven as the other man worked his way through the forms that Zuko had shown him. While Eleven was no bender, he showed some ability with fire, and an interest in learning more. After he met with the Masters, and the newfound understanding it had given him about the nature of firebending, and of fire itself, he thought it was important to share what he knew. His family, and really, generations of firebenders had been taught the wrong things - and while there wasn't anything he could do about that from here, he could get one person on the right path. It would have to be enough.

"Get back in your horse stance," Zuko stuck his foot out, tapping the side of it against Eleven's heels until he returned to the position Zuko would have shown him first. It was the starting point for any firebender, and essential for maintaining unshakeable balance.

"You start out breathing correctly, but the more you move, the more you breathe wrong." He stepped back, appraising Eleven's stance before lifting a hand, a small ball of fire springing to life. "Hold your hands out, I want you to breathe, and keep this from going out for as long as you can."

[bearshermark]

Eleven shifted back into the stance, feeling awkward, but given that Zuko had taken the time to try and help his capabilities with fire, concentrated on memorizing the feel of it and the shift of his foot so he'd be able to recreate it with less trouble next time.

Holding his hands out as instructed, Eleven inhaled sharply as Zuko's flame hovered just above his palms. And then somehow, it didn't burn him but rather settled as though he'd conjured it himself. Never before had he thought to trade fire like this- or rather, wished it possible, but hadn't thought.. Then again, Zuko lived as though he were a human embodiment of the element despite claiming not to be.

But on his exhale, the fire wilted to a flicker and suddenly he understood the lesson Zuko was trying to impart.

"Oh," he breathed shortly on a brief panic as he fought to recall the rhythm of the breathing exercises Zuko had taught him. The flicker of flame swelled, then settled. An uncomplicated affair, but aligning the flame to those exercises was new. Eleven swallowed and focused, settling into a pattern of breathing and not moving at all beyond it.

[elfuego]

Looking on with a studious frown Zuko nodded once when Eleven's fire dimmed, observing the way the other caught his mistake and sought to rectify it.

"Breath becomes energy inside your body," he began quietly, aware of how many times his uncle had given him the same lecture in varying states of exasperation. "Energy passes through your limbs and becomes fire. It has a pulse. It's alive, can you feel that?"

If Iroh could hear him now; a thing Zuko wanted more than anything, and still felt woefully underprepared to face. For now, he could honor him in this way, and steer someone else towards the right, reverent way to handle fire.

[bearshermark]

Eleven breathed. He'd spent a good bit of time practicing the breath of fire down in the aqueducts, and a little more after meditation when he was most focused. He'd thought he was managing the get the heat to spread a little further.

"A pulse," he confirmed, brows furrowing. "But I don't know if it's.. mine, my spirit's, or the fire."

[elfuego]

"It's all connected," he said quickly, surprising himself with how certain he sounded. His time with the firebending masters had been brief, but they had changed the way he saw things.

"You can't think of the fire as separate from you, even when you're bending one that's already going. Your energy is what's giving it life from the second it lands in your hands." He paused, before continuing with a note of sheepishness. "I don't know much about the spirit, I'm sorry. Trying to repair mine isn't easy." But at least he still knew fire.

[bearshermark]

Eleven's brows furrowed, staring at the flame as he breathed and trying to reconcile it all together. He could make sense of it, that the pulse of his heart and magic were linked. Magic was a natural gift, even if he hadn't always known he was capable of it. But the spirit that connected him to Yggdrasil had its own power.

His eyes glanced up to meet Zuko's. "You.. need to repair your spirit, too?"

1.

[inferus]

Wrath was drawn over by the feeling of the magic.

He could sense it even at the edge of the garden that he had not intended going further into. Some part of him wants to reject the feeling- it is holy, and Wrath fell from Heaven a long time ago. Another part of him is helplessly curious as to what could make him feel magic like this: of light in a place so far from his world. As far as he knows, there is no Heaven or Hell here.

He can't feel it (which may have more to do with how this world disrupts his own powers).

His eyebrows lift as the mortal that he recognizes from the group shows he had not intended to be caught (he has felt the warmth and light in him before, but has not approached). Wrath is not one to beat around the bush.

"Were you practicing a specific spell, or practicing your magic in general?"

yesss

[bearshermark]

Self-consciousness stains his expression, but it steadily fades as his senses are forced outside of himself and touch on something altogether darker and edged with something he'd almost call vicious. It isn't death, quite, but it isn't not, either.

The consternation works into the slow crease of his brows and very nearly distracts him from the question posed. His hands lower, also belated.

"Ah- a specific spell. Meant to.. ward off monsters."

heck yes!

[inferus]

Wrath can sense the array of emotions settling inside of him (self-consciousness, surprise to be interrupted). He would not be surprised if someone who wielded holy magic might be able to sense more about him in turn, but he makes little attempt to hide what he is.

He is reticent to share his title (responsibility- Pride can have it), but the rest is easier.

"A useful spell." He saw the harpies and undead at his arrival. "Monsters from your own world or from this one as well?"

[bearshermark]

Eleven settles on the reigning bid for caution- wary under a perceived potential threat. He's immediately aware that it's exactly the sort of reaction he would have had to Archeval if he'd been able to sense the death and darkness upon him when they'd met. ..Possibly he'd have been hostile then, even.

The man is his greatest companion, now.

"From my world," he offers with a tempered smile. At least that much is clear between them. "I'm hoping it will be effective here as well, however."

[inferus]

"Likely anything repelled by holy energy would be repelled by what you showcased," Wrath comments in musing at what he felt from the magic itself. He is curious as to where it came from, but with the clear caution the young mortal feels, he thinks it best not to question just yet. Obviously, the gods in one world will not be like the rest, and wouldn't that just anger his maker?

His maker who wanted to contain and control Wrath, but could not. Wrath refused. Free will is a beautiful thing.

He is grateful to exert it now. Would sell his soul again for it.

"What monsters exist within your world?"

[bearshermark]

"That's the idea," he says with a nod. If he can at least repel the undead, it'll be more than worthwhile. But neither has he been able to test that, given his previous and current limitations.

Eleven settles some- still wary, but the queries are light enough, the man himself not looking as though he's ready to attack in spite of recognizing the energy for what it is.

"There's far too many types to name. Slimes, dragons, shades, a variety of undead, mechanical sorts, tentaculars.." He shrugs. "Most of them rather aggressive and dangerous, though there are some that aren't."