(no subject)
WHO: Hermione Granger & her magical pack of pixies (aka you)
WHEN: During Silent Night
WHERE: the Inn & surroundings
WHAT: can i interest you in some slice of life in these trying times? catch-all and open to all who want some cute form of interaction (warning: i may bite you in the feels) with Hermione before the new arc starts; bring on the magical weeds too
WARNINGS: will add if necessary
[ooc: please feel free to to either PM me or reach me on plurk/discord if you want a separate starter, or throw your own in here. get in losers, we're doing shenanigans.]
WHEN: During Silent Night
WHERE: the Inn & surroundings
WHAT: can i interest you in some slice of life in these trying times? catch-all and open to all who want some cute form of interaction (warning: i may bite you in the feels) with Hermione before the new arc starts; bring on the magical weeds too
WARNINGS: will add if necessary
[ooc: please feel free to to either PM me or reach me on plurk/discord if you want a separate starter, or throw your own in here. get in losers, we're doing shenanigans.]
no subject
"They... Help?" he replies, wincing slightly at the way he cannot even give her a straightforward answer. "I am not certain whether the waters themselves necessarily have medicinal properties, whether it is the heat of the pools, or whether I simply want to believe that they are doing something for me and therefore I feel better for a time. But."
He shrugs. "I do, so why question it too much? Even if the effects only seem to last for a few hours. It's good enough for me."
no subject
She's here, trying to make use of them as well, isn't she? Not as much of a sceptic as she boasts being, because the first time that she came here, the waters had made her feel loose and pleased and she'd slept so well. Dreamlessly, even.
"I like the hot spring. It feels like a bubble bath, only without the bubbles - the point being, the hot water feels nice." She leans her head back against the edge with a sigh. "I'm not sure I'd enjoy the icy cold ones, and definitely not naked."
This is a nothing conversation, isn't it? It's haunted by a shade of shame, embarrassment, awkwardness - and Anduin and I have an understanding, which she so wants to needle Anduin about as well. But as much as Wrathion would love it, he can't be the subject of every damn talk she has with Anduin, for heaven's sake.
So she scrambles for something else. "Do you want to play a game?"
no subject
"I can heal myself as well," he says. "But -- I would not mind taking you up on that offer. It would be nice to have an alternative, especially when I need to conserve my energies."
The conversation jump does seem a bit of a scramble, but he allows it. He'd prefer not to discuss being naked while he is the only one in such a state. He feels it rather calls attention to the fact, all things considered. So at the question, he cocks his head.
"A game?"
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"Uhm - sure. Yes. Like two truths and a lie? You tell two truths and a lie and I have to guess which one is the lie. I think we've played this one before on the network...?"
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(Anduin himself had not played. It's hard to join into group activities, hard to be a normal person when he's never really learned how.)
"Alright," he says. "Well..."
He contemplates this, for a long moment. What hasn't he told her, about himself? About his life, back at home. At least, he thinks to himself, she knows. About him. About who, and what he is. It does make thinking of things a bit easier.
"My father once became two people," he begins. That's one. "I was once held hostage by the orcs." That's two. "The biggest threat I face back home right now is an enemy known as The Banshee Queen. ...she calls me her Little Lion." Three. He turns to her, raising an eyebrow as if to say, well?
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She considers her answer, a little smile at the lion visuals - how Gryffindor of him - and then her eyebrows shoot up.
"Surely the lie is that nobody could call you Little anything?" she blurts out, very aware of the build of his torso right now. She clears her throat and adds, "Or the orcs."
no subject
He shoots her a glance out of the corner of his eyes, before shaking his head to clear it of those thoughts.
"My father was -- a large and impressive man," he replies. "Comparatively, I am just a Little Lion, I suppose. Although he was known in wider circles as Lo'Gosh, the Ghost Wolf. I think it's mainly just because the lion is the symbol of Stormwind. But -- no, it was the dwarves, actually. Who held me hostage."
no subject
She meant his shoulders and his beefy muscles. Outrage a la Lan Wangji is difficult to convey in this format, but - let the reader use their imagination. She sees that side glance, blushes beet red - boy these hot springs sure are hot - and absolutely stares ahead with her lips pressed together until she is no longer perceived.
And she might have told him, in the many conversations since, that her House at Hogwarts was represented by a lion, because the nickname would have honestly tickled her pink a little. Little lion - be more metaphor-for-the-Harry-Potters-in-her-life, Anduin.
"I suppose it's for the best that they didn't decide to call you the little wolf, then?" Dwarves, not ogres - she clenches her hand into a fist under the water in victory. Nailed it. Still - "But you meant it, about your biggest foe? Does she actually - is she an actual banshee?"
no subject
As for the rest of it... His expression sharpens, somewhat.
"As I understand it, she had been, at one point." He turns to glance aside at Hermione, wondering how much he should say. How much she really cares to know. "Her name is Sylvanas Windrunner, and she is the leader of the Forsaken. The undead. Years ago, when I was only a boy, there was... A terrible evil that befell the land, at the direction of one of the Alliance's leaders. He unleashed a plague, a scourge upon us. Many died. Many were raised again, to do his bidding. Some, like Sylvanas, and her people, were able to retain a fraction of themselves after the fact."
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"This place must feel like just another Tuesday for you, huh?"
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He tilts his head at her, meeting her smile with one of his own.
"I... Can't exactly call it a holiday, all things considered," Anduin replies. "But -- no one is expecting me to have all of the answers, nor do we have any guards hiding in the bushes, watching or listening into our conversation, so."
He shrugs. "It's hard to compare."
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And lets out a little laugh, before shaking herself out of it. She's not trying to mock him here. It's not that she doesn't think he's capable, she does, but he's practically her age and he's so down to earth and it feels strange still to know a king of anything.
"Sorry, sorry - is it my turn?"
no subject
"It the guards impress you, I can only imagine what you might make of SI:7," Anduin says, with the huff of a laugh. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye before he elaborates, "Stormwind's elite special operations force, special intelligence, and special military dedicated to the protection of the crown." He makes a little gesture as if to indicate himself.
"You had better take a turn and spare me."
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Her turn, right.
"Right, here I go. I'm wielding my enemy's wand, I have travelled through time, and my pet at school was an owl that I used to send my parents letters with."
no subject
Also, technically SI:7 is more of a special force, in a spy intelligence-like sense, but he's not going to get finicky just now. He offers a smile and a shrug, listening instead to what she offers next.
"Hmmm..." Two truths and a lie. He studies her for a long moment, contemplating this list of facts. "I suppose it says something about what I know of magic that any one of these things any one of these things can be true."