ph_logs | (open) and these thoughts are in my head

(open) and these thoughts are in my head

Who: Fever & open
What: Settling into the town in varied ways.
When: Second half of March/early part of April.
Where: Varied locations - see prompts.
Warning(s): Likely intrusive murder thoughts, others to be added should they arise.

work - town hall.
The newest clerk at Town Hall is a woman with a scar on her face and an eagerness to learn the system. Soon enough, she's figured things out, as if she'd been working there for months instead of the short time it really has been. Things flow easily, aided by both the strange item she'd retrieved from that one shop and what seems to be an innate understanding. But then again, if one can negotiate tactics midbattle, a job with paperwork and filing is practically nothing. So, if you need something, she's likely the one to dispense the forms or take them, working through the level of administration that all the new arrivals warranted.

Of course, it's not always business, and at the right time, someone might catch her at break, a novel from the library at hand and a dictionary close by as she needs to look up words. Some concepts and items are as of yet unknown to her, but she believes firmly with a bit of study, it can all be sorted.

training - "fight club."

When she joins the ranks of those sparring, talking her way into a day when the militia and the Enforcers are doing their training, it's really to satisfy her own desires for combat no matter what she tells them. Sure, she can go out in search of monsters, but that requires a companion and planning. This is more freeform, and fighting against someone else here lets her look at their capabilities. No magic to start with - best to be fair to all involved - and instead, Fever relies on a sturdier branch. Peter's not done with the staff yet, so this is the closest she can get. She fights with a clear joy in her movements, happy to test herself against anyone until either her opponent yields or someone outside calls the match.

That said, there are moments of downtime, where one has to catch their breath and drink water, where she's just leaning against the side observing or lightly applauding at the end of one spar. Catching a fighter's eye, they're offered an amused but restrained smile, and win, lose, or neither, it's clear something impressed her.

They're still never getting her to sign up with the Enforcers, though.

festival green - picnic.

Though she shies from the doll making, Fever can't deny the appeal of being able to picnic on the green, and waits until the event is over and dealt with before she takes her inspiration and heads outdoors. It's not perhaps the most ideal weather for it - clouds, the wind - but it's not so bad as to keep her from it. So here she is, with a simple lunch that's been ferried over and a blanket to sit on, trying to think about if she's ever done this before. Had reason to, really. But a passerby will interrupt her thoughts, and she'll raise her hand to get their attention.

"Does it seem like rain to you?"

Of course, there's enough room on the blanket for two, if you're feeling particularly sociable or are eyeing a free snack. Or, it can start to do as much as lightly rain, and she's not budging from where she is, considering it still fine weather.

wildcard.

Different idea? Throw it at me, I'm wide open for other scenarios. Will match the format of any tag-ins. Opt out post.

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Yes. Exactly like that. The need, the desire...no...it's like something pricking at you with increasing intensity until it's clawing to get out. She hadn't had her memories or powers as Miranda Sinclair, had been a shadow of herself on the Eterna, now, even with Tiamat gone, the itch that comes with power will need to be scratched eventually.

"I don't need easy, I need sweat, and blood, and pain, the kind you can only get from a fight with someone worthy, someone who won't hold back because they trust you can handle it. Someone who isn't afraid to push you to your limits."

Valdis knows Fever may need the same.

"But for now, this is good enough."

"You let me know when it's not, and I'll have already pre-scouted an area that'll work for us."

It won't be enough for the part of her that thirsts for death, for outright murder, but it'll help her work something out. Drinking wine and pretending it could be blood, so to speak. All the while, the urge sharpening its claws on the opposite side of her ribcage.

She winces a little to see one of the fighters try a flashy, risky move.

"In a real fight, he's asking for that limb to be removed."

"I will."

Perhaps she should be more concerned about how similar they are, but all she feels is relief. They have a death pact, so they might as well help each other through the violent urges they feel before the worst happens.

Valdis shakes her head when she sees the man make the move Fever comments on.

"Sometimes people don't understand efficiency. Showy moves tend to be slower, and give your opponent an opening. Though to be fair, with his skills he'd have lost the fight two minutes ago if it were one of us."

"If I was in a particularly cruel mood, I know a spell where he'd be stopped from even lifting his blade."

She can see it in her mind's eye. Stopping him, removing his weapon off his person, delicately tapping all the exposed areas to show him where he needs to guard.

"It's so strange, that people think style is any indicator of strength. The most flourishing around will do is get your opponent off guard - but then you have to hit directly, precisely. Artistry is wasted if you die for it." Fever glances to Valdis. "Something a number of my foes have learned in trying to seem bigger than they are."

"Sounds like quite the spell."

Valdis nods in agreement with Fever's analysis and smirks a little at her comment about foes.

"I have spent every single lifetime being underestimated, and very few know the true extent of what I am capable of." She sighs. "I don't wish to be feared, just respected...though, being underestimated has always served me well."

Violence is both in her nature and something she dislikes, it's not who she wishes to be despite having no shame about her past.

"It's a card you can only pull once, but when done right..."

The implication is left to float off in the breeze. It's a thing of beauty, when one's foes suddenly gain that illumination in their eyes, and understand how far they have to fall. How much they left in your hands.

"It is a shame you've had to deal with that every time, though. Just once, for a change of pace, there should be one where you're looked at in the right way. Not demanding you do the impossible, not thinking you're weak - enough time, it's got to come around, right?"

Just as there were some cards that could only be played once, there were others without efficient counters. Despite knowing she probably holds such a card, Valdis is not keen to play it without good reason. Some things should be reserved for powerful enemies.

"Our worlds seem to be very different, Fever." Her gaze returns to those still sparring. "In mine, it was helpful to be seen as lesser in some circumstances, especially throughout the old histories. Being underestimated was a large advantage and I couldn't always count on power to be useful. Mind games, acting, sex...those were my weapons when I couldn't use a sword, and they served me quite well."

Very different, or it's the blessing and curse to be given a blank slate, to forget both the good and the ills of the world alike. Her tone turns softer, more contemplative as they watch the others, Fever getting water for herself as well.

"I realize it's a terribly broad question, but...what sort of place was it, to you? The world that you remember."

Not calling it home, because it might not be. It might not even have been her most recent place before the ship. But where is she, in her memories? To one that has so few, one with an abundance is worthy of a new type of respect and awe.

Valdis looks down, her posture softening in a way that is opposite to how she feels, a mask to cover the truth behind her opinions on where she came from. Fever is the first person to ever even ask that question, and perhaps the first person she would even consider giving a real answer to.

"The Eterna was the first time I had lived as myself since I regained my soul. Until then I carried many names and was many things to many different people, but never myself, not even with the last man I allowed myself to love. Life didn't mean anything to me. Nothing did. Not people, or places, or things."

Never allowing herself to feel or acknowledge her emotions had led to a pointless life.

"That's what it's like to be immortal."

"...It sounds so isolating."

Never yourself. Never actually you. Never taking the joy in what life had to offer. Isolating, and utterly miserable, to be that numb about things. If that's what immortality is, she can't see why people aspire to it. Others had different experiences, but they had other factors in play, like being more of a concept than a person. If you had to be a single being, all that time? How exhausting it would be, if you couldn't be you, not even if you were lucky enough to find love.

"It's just how it was," she replies. "There are other immortals, angels, demons...but I was the enemy of both. They either wanted to control my power or destroy it, there was no in-between. So yeah, it was lonely, but it was the only option available."

"Are you still lonely, now?"

Being around people didn't mean the void in the self was filled. It didn't immediately mend what was wrong in you, didn't erase so much time at arm's length. Maybe nothing would fill it.

But it might get a little easier to bear.

"Not as much as I was. Selfish as it is, people not staying dead means I don't have to lose them."

Valdis can't shake the fact that Fever can understand on a far deeper level, if only because she's taken the time to ask and to listen. The woman is far more of an equal than others that surround her, perhaps that makes it easier to express her truth.

"I can form relationships without fear."

She nods slowly, agreeing. There's less risk in a world like that. If someone got hurt, they came back to you. The same fears didn't have to exist, haunting the back of your mind. If she herself lost control, hurt someone dear to her...at least they wouldn't be gone forever. The emotional damage would be done, the relationship ruined in ways, but they wouldn't be gone.

"I think after so long losing people, after the life you've lived, you're entitled to a little selfishness. If we lived in all the danger we have and there was a risk that at any time it would just end, forever, anyone at all wouldn't have been unjustified to just...shut the door, so to speak. Even if some pieces came from a place of misery, they still give you something."

A brief pause.

"Hells, being brought to another realm in the first place made it so I wasn't under threat of being forcibly transformed into another being. Selfish, yes, but I can't feel bad about it. Nor can I feel bad about thinking about death not sticking if it means you all survived long enough for me to meet you."

Again, it seems Fever understands, but she too is subject to powers greater than her. Her father, the bloodlust inside her head, the fear she lives with every day. Though Valdis no longer feels Tiamat, the serpent remains and it can still harm those she cares about if she gives in to her own desire for violence.

"I'm glad I met you too, Fever."

There's a crack in the easy, practiced smile she usually wears, and there's something softer under it. Something more genuine than the restrained expression, the words hitting her in an unguarded place just under the breastbone. She doesn't need to be an empath to know Valdis means it, and that's why it makes her feel so strongly. Sure, circumstances had thrown their entire group together, but not all of them got consideration, are on her mental list of people she'd prefer never to hurt if she gets her choice.

Fever doesn't know quite what to say to that. So, she doesn't say anything for a little while, lets the silence be filled with all the other sounds and be companionable as it is. Until a thought floats up, watching those in the militia clash but offer each other a hand up when they fall.

"I hope this peace can last. At least for a while longer."

Let them rest, before they have to grapple with demons and oddities and things that aren't right. Let them all catch their breath and remember how to feel safe again.

"Yes. The peace is lovely."

Even with the chaos of thought and emotion swirling around them both, she is able to find refuge in this moment. Familiarity, truth, trust. She hadn't been sure if she wanted others from the Eterna to come here for fear it might be worse, or at least not better. Yet, in the end, she's glad to see them all again.

"Thank you, Fever, for listening."

"Always. If there's one thing I'm truly good for, it's listening."

One of the few things she knows she's decent at that doesn't involve violence.

"If you've ever got something on your mind, whether you want my best shot at a response or just to be heard, I'm here."

"You're good for a lot of things."

But perhaps that's too much. Valdis turns her attention back to the sparring.

"Same for you. If you ever need someone to listen...you know where to find me."

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(open) and these thoughts are in my head

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