Eleven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bearshermark) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2021-07-03 05:16 pm
bearshermark) wrote in westwhere2021-07-03 05:16 pm
[OPEN] words engraved in the sand
WHO: Eleven and every OPEN
WHEN: Travel month
WHERE: On the road to Taravast~
WHAT: All the things
WARNINGS: blood rain, and mention of sickness (thanks Xie Lian)
1. Riding Tips?
Eleven doesn't consider himself an expert on many things, but having won a few notable horse races, he feels somewhat obligated to approach anyone looking out of their depth when it comes to their mounts.
"Hey." He does his best to temper the amusement in his eyes and tone. "I might be able to help you, if you'd like."
2. Sick
Whatever enjoyment he'd gleaned from that first day of travel was swiftly lost that evening over dinner, and through the course of the day immediately following. Face pale and his expression tight with discomfort, Eleven fought down bouts of queasiness with the singular focus of not getting sick all over his horse.
Later, as the sun began to set, he brought his horse up to the nearest person he recognized and pitched his voice to a low almost-whisper lacking all usual vigor.
"..Have you heard when we're stopping?"
3. Camp
Once he's more or less recovered from his bout of illness, Eleven sets about camp with a familiar smile and eagerness to help. Setting up tents, supply distribution, relaying messages and with the self-appointed task of helping look after their collection of elk, horses, and donkeys.
Then with his non-toxic dinner in hand, he seeks out a familiar face to settle next to.
"Mind if I join you?"
4. Watch
He'd been forced to opt out of shifts for the nights he spent recovering from his illness, but determined to make up for it, Eleven signed himself up for every night thereafter.
Between the mists and the harpies, accompanied by the occasional voice on the wind, there is plenty to be watchful of.
"The horses are getting nervous," he observes with a frown and a will to go to them. Their ears twitch, hooves pawing at the ground on occasion.
"Do you think we should check...?"
5. Tar Collection
It isn't pleasant work, shoveling tar into barrels. Stepping in it, getting it all over his gloves and boots; black, stuck ink that enjoys staining everything it touches. He takes to wearing his cloak to cover his travel wear while he works, at peace at least with the idea that every ounce of muck they pried out of the waters would help the nearby plants and wildlife.
And well, after turning all his leftover coin to Wei Wuxian for supplies again, Eleven is looking forward to possibly having coin enough to treat himself to a good meal once they finally reach the city.
Sometimes, he thinks he sees something in the murk; an odd latticework of shadow reflecting back at him. After a few occasions of this over the days, he finally dredges up the nerve to ask:
"Is there... something in there, you think?"
6. First blood rain
The rain came unexpected, late into the night. He'd been certain there weren't clouds enough for rain. The wetness was expected, but then after, the smell and odd warmth, the thickness of it-
Eleven lifted a hand and smeared it like ink between his fingers, then called up a brief flame to examine it by.
"This can't really be-"
Heart in his throat, he snuffed the flicker of fire and let a new chill soak through him as he glanced wildly about for a source while it soaked into his hair and slid down his scalp. He couldn't suppress a grimace, or the shudder that accompanied it as the nausea from his previous illness threatened to resurface. His voice, taking a turn for distress as nothing seems to stand out.
"What is happening?"
7. Wildcard!
[ooc: hmu with anything adjacent to these prompts, or anything else that suits this travel time! feel free to pm/plurk if you'd like to work out anything in particular]
WHEN: Travel month
WHERE: On the road to Taravast~
WHAT: All the things
WARNINGS: blood rain, and mention of sickness (thanks Xie Lian)
1. Riding Tips?
Eleven doesn't consider himself an expert on many things, but having won a few notable horse races, he feels somewhat obligated to approach anyone looking out of their depth when it comes to their mounts.
"Hey." He does his best to temper the amusement in his eyes and tone. "I might be able to help you, if you'd like."
2. Sick
Whatever enjoyment he'd gleaned from that first day of travel was swiftly lost that evening over dinner, and through the course of the day immediately following. Face pale and his expression tight with discomfort, Eleven fought down bouts of queasiness with the singular focus of not getting sick all over his horse.
Later, as the sun began to set, he brought his horse up to the nearest person he recognized and pitched his voice to a low almost-whisper lacking all usual vigor.
"..Have you heard when we're stopping?"
3. Camp
Once he's more or less recovered from his bout of illness, Eleven sets about camp with a familiar smile and eagerness to help. Setting up tents, supply distribution, relaying messages and with the self-appointed task of helping look after their collection of elk, horses, and donkeys.
Then with his non-toxic dinner in hand, he seeks out a familiar face to settle next to.
"Mind if I join you?"
4. Watch
He'd been forced to opt out of shifts for the nights he spent recovering from his illness, but determined to make up for it, Eleven signed himself up for every night thereafter.
Between the mists and the harpies, accompanied by the occasional voice on the wind, there is plenty to be watchful of.
"The horses are getting nervous," he observes with a frown and a will to go to them. Their ears twitch, hooves pawing at the ground on occasion.
"Do you think we should check...?"
5. Tar Collection
It isn't pleasant work, shoveling tar into barrels. Stepping in it, getting it all over his gloves and boots; black, stuck ink that enjoys staining everything it touches. He takes to wearing his cloak to cover his travel wear while he works, at peace at least with the idea that every ounce of muck they pried out of the waters would help the nearby plants and wildlife.
And well, after turning all his leftover coin to Wei Wuxian for supplies again, Eleven is looking forward to possibly having coin enough to treat himself to a good meal once they finally reach the city.
Sometimes, he thinks he sees something in the murk; an odd latticework of shadow reflecting back at him. After a few occasions of this over the days, he finally dredges up the nerve to ask:
"Is there... something in there, you think?"
6. First blood rain
The rain came unexpected, late into the night. He'd been certain there weren't clouds enough for rain. The wetness was expected, but then after, the smell and odd warmth, the thickness of it-
Eleven lifted a hand and smeared it like ink between his fingers, then called up a brief flame to examine it by.
"This can't really be-"
Heart in his throat, he snuffed the flicker of fire and let a new chill soak through him as he glanced wildly about for a source while it soaked into his hair and slid down his scalp. He couldn't suppress a grimace, or the shudder that accompanied it as the nausea from his previous illness threatened to resurface. His voice, taking a turn for distress as nothing seems to stand out.
"What is happening?"
7. Wildcard!
[ooc: hmu with anything adjacent to these prompts, or anything else that suits this travel time! feel free to pm/plurk if you'd like to work out anything in particular]
no subject
Archeval nodded along to his own words, something in him feeling...a little buoyed, perhaps, to elicit that vibrant laugh out of this oppressive dark. 'Honored', though, honestly. Eleven was far too nice for his own good, and one of these days it was absolutely certain to come back to bite him.
It was a mystery, really, how Arche managed to keep collecting these types. In all likelihood it was going to be the death of him eventually.
But at least when his old enemy finally caught up with him, he'd be going out in good company.
"You know, one of the first times I ever visited Manaan, I had to venture into some underwater facilities. Labs and the like," he murmured out, idly thinking back on a memory for a moment as he stared out toward the dark rain some more.
"Most of what the Selkath build down there -- that's the native species, they're amphibious -- mostly they install these huge pressurized windows for walls everywhere they can get away with. I was there for work, but it was horrendously distracting, the beauty of it. Just looking out and seeing ocean floor for kilometers in every direction, and most of the smaller animals had no fear of the buildings, they'd come right up to the windows while swimming around. I remember there was this one big predator I watched chasing around a pack of..."
He launched into a slightly rambling tale after that, describing some of the sights of the planet just as Eleven had asked earlier, for once in his life feeling well prepared to talk about nothing in particular until the sun came up. Even now, even in a place like this, at least... at least there really was something to look toward, on the other end of all this.
no subject
"Hm.." he acknowledged, growing tired but not nearly settled enough to sleep. He could almost forget about the dried blood on his sleeves if not for the smell. Absent that near-constant reminder, this sort of comfortable companionship would have been perfectly nice. And well, there was something to be said for the tentative promise for the future loosely tying their fates.
Eleven smiled on a quiet breath. It truly felt like Archeval had become one of his companions- albeit one cloaked in darkness and the pall of undead spirits. But beyond that, he was a man capable of love, and someone that could appreciate the beauty of things as much as anyone else.
"..Do you think they'd like me more if I told them I've been a fish before?"