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[lanternae]

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actiion; early november

[twofoldfury]

[Never one to go back on his word, Diarmuid did find the time to pay the lighthouse a visit. It was around the latter half of a brisk afternoon, one he dressed for appropriately. The time where the sun started setting very early. Diarmuid was a punctual man but he did take one or two moments to just admire how the sun looked upon the horizon. The beauty in the small things was grounding in the haze he expected to spend months on end in...

Punctual still needed to be punctual though and he beelined to the lighthouse anyway. Knights had to be on time, it was law. Kind of like bartenders needing to know a variety of unrelated skills to bartending.

There was a knock against the bottom lighthouse entrance and a call to his friend. ... He could have made the jump up but it's okay it's just a Tuesday no need to super jump on this totally not heavy Tuesday afternoon.]

Sir Flins!

[lanternae]

[Diarmuid had been expected, so it was easy for Flins to set aside the time. The man had stated it would be the afternoon, so he made sure his plans had been cleared for that slot of the day.

Truth be told, he didn't know what to ask. How do you tell your friend that something seems off about their behavior, when there's truly nothing out of the ordinary about the conversation. Could it be his senses as a fae that are picking up something? The way Diarmuid's voice seemed...stilted?

He would just have to see the man in person to find out.

When he hears that knock, he looks over at the door and passes through the base of the lighthouse to go get it. The main room was.. functional. There was a bed there, with a few cabinets and pictures hung. A clock that Flins only kept winding out of habit than actually looking at it for a sense of time, a lamp or two, and a table in the center with two chairs. Unfortunately, it is also FREEZING. Flins did not have any issue with living in the cold and damp it seems.

The place is also inhabited by two extra 'employees'. A little Litwick, who seems to be napping, and Casimir, the tabby Maine Coon that seems to watch everything with an intense stare.

Flins opens the door, those yellow eyes glittering as he sees his friend.]

Sir Diarmuid, as punctual as ever. Please...come in.

[twofoldfury]

You have my thanks for inviting me to your home. [Said as he was allowed to enter. Shabby as the place looked to a normal person, there was a soft smile set upon Diarmuid's face. Much like his tone over their voice conversation, it was stilted and tinged with a little sadness. For a split second he seemed to look at nothing in particular, but then scanned the room in its tiny glory along with the Litwick and intense cat.

It seemed like he was looking for something, but didn't know what.

But he brightened as if nothing happen on looking directly at his friend.]

You've made a comfortable and humble home for yourself, I see. [Said as if this place wasn't ramshackle to hell and back, but in fairness Diarmuid did genuinely find it to be its own kind of cozy.]

[lanternae]

Ha, of course, my friend. Much like everyone in Kaisou, this lighthouse is your beacon in the night. Your shelter against the rampaging waves.

I do live quite modestly compared to the humans in this city, but it is enough.

[Granted, 'home' was very loose wording for what this is, but to Flins it certainly was. He practically glides through the room, over to the table and chairs as he pulls one out for him and gestures to the one he does second. ]

Please. Sit down. Let me get a good look at you.

[The trap closes. This is what he wanted to see for himself.]

[twofoldfury]

And enough is all that it needs to be to leave you content and comfortable.

[It was down right opulent compared to some of the places Diarmuid needed to shelter. When you're on the run for as long as he was when he was alive, you sacrifice comfort to see your partner in fleeing have a more restful sleep...

Diarmuid did smell something... a little fishy here. As though Flins had him right where he wanted him. There is a habit to be on guard, especially recently. As if he needed more subtle tension that to any other man would be unnoticeable. Not so severe as to frown, but enough for his brow to furrow with his smile as he sat down.]

Well, of course.

Later in dec, after the gifts are given

[myriadeclipse]

[ He intends to call him, but ... honestly he's still so flustered, Text is going first. ]

What do you mean by that?

[lanternae]

[Flins knew this was coming. Or at least talking about it. Text being the method of choice was less so.]

How does one put it? You seem different after 'some dogs are alright' came into your life.

This Fabergé egg is exquisite, Hugo. It hasn't aged a day since I saw it years ago.

[myriadeclipse]

You're welcome. They are far harder to distribute than my usual inventory, so the best way to handle them is to place them into hands that will care for them.

Do I seem different? That dog was the cause of it all to begin with.
Maybe I should have started this with a "congratulations on being a cat person" but I don't think there is anyone that missed that detail.

[lanternae]

And yet you make it sound so effortless. That's a testament to how your skill has grown. Rest assured, it's in safe hands. Unlike my birthday present, this one was given to me by a dear friend.

[A smile twitches at the edges of his lips before he types again.]

It's subtle, but yes. Your eyes don't match your scowl, Hugo.
As for my cat...well. There's no point in denying it with that incident. Though you'll be surprised to know he was the one who kept trying to storm my lighthouse all those years ago.

Secret Santa Delivery!

[heng_like_a_dragon]

[So, this assignment has given Dan Heng the most interesting question.

What the fuck do you give a guy who sold a Faberge Egg to your cousin for $21 million? Especially a guy who doesn't even wash his rice!

His list of likes is also... nerd goth. Dan Heng shouldn't be surprised considering Flins is lovers with Blade's adoptive dad. Hm. He looks at his dragon Pokemon.

Well. That's one way to get bones without having to break the bank.

Celadon the Fraxure and Qinglong the Dragonair are very polite by allowing him to collect the bones from their meals, though that's unusual for Celadon since she can be quite feisty (11). However, Ren the Kommo-o has decided that Dan Heng is trying to challenge him and that maybe TODAY IS THE DAY that he will surpass this rival dragon (natural 1)!

It. Does not end with Ren's victory. The Kommo-o is now sulking after losing yet another battle against Dan Heng, and just... eats all the bones from his meal out of spite.

Welp.

So, Flins will receive a gift delivered by Sang the Skeledirge. Don't... ask how he got there. Dan Heng doesn't know, either. There's a simple note taped to the gift box that just says:]

His name is Sang (sahng).

[Inside the box are carefully preserved and cleaned fish bones and some kind of big mammal's bones. The mammal bones have some teeth marks in them, though. There are also some Kommo-o scales that glitter prettily in the light, and create a sound when scraped together or when struck by an object. Each one creates a different note.

Flins will also receive a lovely Chinese rice wine. There's a note from the sender as well.]

The scales are shed ones from a Kommo-o, a dragon Pokemon that rattles their scales together to create a clamor to unnerve their prey or anything threatening their territory. It's said that in ancient times, their scales were also used to craft very durable armor.

I'm not sure what your taste in alcohol is, necessarily, but I chose one that I like to enjoy with my family and fiances. There are many fond memories I have associated with its taste. I hope that this is to your taste as well.

-Dan Heng

Action: I promised you a brick, this one is giftwrapped

[wiseoldbartender]

[Husk has had a long fucking day. It's been miserable and terrifying and exhausting all in equal measure. He's been running on adrenaline and sheer bloody minded stubbornness for hours - ever since Alastor popped into his inbox. After checking the demon's story out, getting Shroud to verify it, warning his loved ones away and then spending time with the kids... Husk's about running on empty.

He flies to the lighthouse, as usual, welcoming the cold breeze in the air as he does so. It's sharp, even if he doesn't feel the cold, and he's glad for it. It's a reminder that he's alive and still fucking here. When he finally gets to the lighthouse, he doesn't enter right away - instead opting to sit on the top of it. He pulls his knees up to his chin, wraps his tail around his feet and folds his wings in close around himself, his ears pinned back on his head- for someone so damn tall, looking depressingly small.

Now he's finally letting himself stop, all the feelings he was trying to tamp down to survive the day are surging back. A hundred memories of what that fucker put him through clamouring for attention. Memories that, what? He just has to learn to live with now? That he has to figure out how to heal from with the fucker actively in the city? Worse, he's supposed to figure out how to exist as a completely free agent, without threat of those chains going around his throat again?

He really wants a drink. That's the prevailing feeling surging through everything. Flins has plenty of vodka inside. He could just open up a bottle or two or three and drink until he doesn't feel anything anymore. That's how he always dealt with Alastor in his past life. Just drink until the sweet siren song of oblivion took him under. He wants that so badly now. And maybe he should. If his reward for three months of sobriety was this, maybe he should just throw in the towel, call it a bad show. He realises, belatedly, that his hands are shaking.

He doesn't throw in the towel, though. Instead, he goes back to staring out at the sea, watching the movement of the tide, trying to time his breathing with the swell of the waves- trying to find some measure of peace from them.

Jesus, fuck, today has been a shitshow. ]

[lanternae]

[The sun was just starting to set, the sky becoming a brilliant eventide of stars, dark blues, and the hints of orange and yellow slowly disappearing from the horizon. The wind was sharp and crisp, and the waves crashed against the rocks in a rhythmic pattern. It was one of the few places one could say was truly undisturbed, and one can probably understand just why Flins preferred life on this outcropping of rocks.

The lighthouse had yet to turn on, as Flins was currently absent from the lighthouse, but well on his way to returning. In fact, if Husk were to listen closely, inbetween the sounds of the waves Flins' soft voice could be heard down at the base of the lighthouse.

"That was not a wise choice, my friend. Next time, should you want to get the upper hand on the Boss, you'll need to prioritize your dodging. Now that you're well and rested...take care. Give Sir August my best."

A familiar raven takes to the air to fly back, knife in its beak as Flins watches it go, turning his head up to the top of the lighthouse to see Husk sitting there. He could jump right up to his shadow, but instead, he walks slowly to the door at its base, opening it silently and walking in. As Husk waits, the light of the lantern under him illuminates--Flins must've turned it on as he went inside.

It's a slow, methodical walk up, as he gives a nod to Casimir that he'll take the watch up top, and he could rest by the fire.

They'll swap shifts later.

The spirals staircase seems to last forever, as he glides up them, his lantern lighting the way the further he ascended. Finally, he gets to the top, and opens the door to the gallery, turning his head up to see Husk sitting there, wings around him in a protective cage. His yellow eyes soften, as he shuts the door and leans against the lantern room.

Without thinking, Flins reaches up to pull Husk's tail towards him, letting it rest against his face as he strokes the plumage at the end.

It looks like he's not going to say anything at first, just letting his fingers run along those feathers. But soon, he speaks up.]

Ah...I was wondering if that ship would eventually find its way back. I was starting to think it'd gotten lost.

[wiseoldbartender]

[ It really was a beautiful spot. Much as Husk had been born and raised in one of the nosiest and busiest cities in the world, he could really understand and appreciate the quiet out here. Sure, not exactly easy to distract oneself from the thoughts roiling around in their heads... but he doesn't think finding ways to not think about it would be all that healthy right now.

He watches Julian make his way across the darkening sky, his brow furrowing in confusion for a moment - did that crow have a fucking knife in its beak???. He glances down as the light illuminates under him, before focusing back on the water. His ears shift a little, as he listens to Flins making his careful way up. He's glad for the time taken, honestly. It means he can have some quiet, try and organise his thoughts as he waits for his partner to get to him.

And when he does? Husk heaves out a soft, quiet sigh. He doesn't feel right, still. He feels like a fucking mess barely held together. He doesn't even know how to start this. But then Flins quietly takes his tail and starts petting it, allowing the silence to linger a little longer. Husk doesn't pull his tail away- honestly, there's no small amount of comfort in the touch. Something to make him feel like he's still here. An anchor to keep him from being taken by the storm.

When Flins does speak, he finally lowers his wings, just a little, so he can look out to see the ship his partner is talking about. Sure enough, there it is, making its way towards shore. ]

Yeah? [ His voice is quieter than it usually is, a tiredness clinging to the edges of the usual baritone. ] How long's it been out there?

[lanternae]

Oh...

[His voice drifts, like the tide pulling out. His fingers remain gently stroking that tail, letting the short fur that lined the thinner part of it to tickle his cheek.]

I'd say since four in the morning. The fishing boats set sail out early. Lobster are not that abundant in the winter months, so they must've laid out more traps than usual. Enough to still be sustainable.

And yet my worries were for nothing. It's come home.

[His index finger trails along the edge of a feather, as he closes his eyes. The boat...may not be the only thing he's talking about.]

Your heart is a storm. A symphony of conflict.

secret santa!

[thirteenth]

[In a package left on the doorstep of the lighthouse, square and wrapped with brown paper and natural twine, Flins will find an antique photo album. It is a deep blue velvet, faded in places due to the wear and tear of time, closed with a leather strap and embroidered on both front and back in grey and light-blue flowers. Inside are Victorian-era photographs that came with the album when Roxas found it, as well as eventual modern photographs he took and developed himself over the last 6 or 7 years through his teenage years, of ancient cultural sites from the countries he's visited on his sports career. Tucked into one of the pages is an old bronze coin from the Roman Empire.]

action, a little after the midmonth post

[myriadeclipse]

[ Part of him thought to fly over as a bat, but decided no. The walk would do him good, and he would have time to get his thoughts in order. The crisp, near frozen winter air was a nice wakeup call while he tried to reorder his thoughts.

The pier was his destination. Talking to seagulls was the name of the game today. Ever since his gift from Lycaon, he could understand animals... but he couldn't imagine the gulls having deep intellectual conversations. They lead rather simple lives and compared to the mess he considers his life currently, he does not fault that one bit. Live your trouble-free, fry-filled lives.

Still, he was cold. Less cold than he would normally be, but still slightly cold. He was fashionably bundled and his hair up in a clip that was designed to look like butterfly wings.

Why did he always go to this place in the freezing cold? Does he ever learn that wind off the sea is colder than hell? ]

The gulls will get a warm meal and I will set frozen sea air turning my bones into icicles.

[lanternae]

[Flins, in turn, had come to meet Hugo by the pier. His lighthouse was isolated on the little islet just off of Kaisou's shore, so the pier was only a few minutes boat ride away. He'd gotten there early to assess things, and to see just where the gulls had collected themselves to this morning.

It seems the fisherman were just coming back from their morning hauls, so of course they'd flock towards the shipyard.

With some money in his hand, he heads towards the boardwalk shops. The fries were essential for this, yes, but there was something else he needed to pick up. Knowing the vampire, he'd come quickly.

It was as if the whole tantrum about his newfound cottage had been all but forgotten in the moment, paying for what he needed to as he politely thanks the vendor. After that, it was the three orders of fries. Truth be told, he didn't need Hugo for the sole purpose of carrying one extra basket of them. But it was a good excuse to get him out here. Away from the mire his mind was likely spiraling into.

Seeing Hugo on Pier 7, bundled up and waiting, he starts to glide his way over, the baskets in hand (along with some shadow hands to hold the others). He stops just before he gets too close. Sensing something...new, about Hugo. Familiar.

It takes everything in his power not to let his smile split his face.

The world was truly a curious beast.

Continuing to walk over, he presses a warm coffee to Hugo's cheek gently to announce his arrival.]

So I did well in bringing you this, then. I'm glad.

[myriadeclipse]

[ Hugo looked to the side when he felt the cup against his cheek. It gives him pause that he wasn't aware that Flins had gotten so close. While it was fairly common that the fae was just good at moving through the world, as fae were, Hugo was usually alert and aware of the surrounding space. His mind must truly be in a thousand places at once today.

Pocketing his phone, Hugo brought one of his hands up to take the takeaway cup in hand and soak the warmth up in his palms. ]

You've arrived. I see you are no longer plagued by the depression of domesticity. I am putting Sam...po and Lighter out of my might for the remainder of the day.

[ What Sampo has done to regain the bat's ire in mere hours is anyone's guess. ]

[lanternae]

[Flins' smile only widens as Hugo takes the cup. The man's mind must truly be in so many different places at once. In hindsight, it was a good idea he made his way out to the pier.

Harumasa was on the right track that the pier, and his lighthouse by extension, were good places to collect your thoughts.]

For now, the empty hole in my heart where the smell of seafoam once resided has been sated. I had a revelation that it could be modeled into a place for my charges to get some quiet to themselves without it being a closet, or under the floorboards.

That alone is enough to see the value.

[He lets go of the cup once Hugo takes it.]

I asked for it to be sweet. I know you need it.

[Need it. Not that he likes it.]

Lighter's situation is quite troubling, so I understand wanting to put it out of your mind. Sampo, however... he's not unfamiliar with putting his foot somewhere it shouldn't be. I do wonder what he's done to earn your ire.

...Ah. But we'll discuss that later. There's actually much I'd like to talk to you about.

First, the gulls. This should be enough to convince them to assist us in our search for our red scarf'd friend.

Text: UN:bar_cat75

[wiseoldbartender]

Okay Baby, I'm gonna need you to do me a solid and start specifying with people that you are not fucking Casimir when you talk about him to them. I've already had one weird ass text from Zev today and if I have to explain to someone else that you are not, in fact, cheating on me with your actual pet cat I am gonna hide that bedazzled pine cone of yours and I will not give it back.

[lanternae]

[...He's going to curse Zevran.

It takes a few moments before he answers. He has something to do.]

I would like to clarify a few things on this matter, my treasure. I never insinuated I had a relationship with Casimir. Merely that I had an apprentice who likes to curl up on my bed. Perhaps this is an issue with Zevran's inability to get his mind out of the gutter, and not my phrasing. It could possibly be a medical condition. I'll have to check on that at a later date.

Second, Casimir is not a pet, he owns himself.

Third. I've hid the pinecone all on my own. It is unlikely you will find it.

[Behold, the something he had to do.]

[wiseoldbartender]

[Husk will not stop him. ]

I think he's just Like That. Okay. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Tell me exactly how you put it in your conversation with Zev. Because he made it sound like you'd told him you got your jollies from us fighting over you and who got to sleep in your bed.

Spoken like a true cat person.

...

Is it in the cupboard under the sink?

[lanternae]

I am being put on trial by my own partner. There is truly no justice to be found in this world.

Here is the log of our conversation. I am sure that will be ample evidence.

Check out Your Post on Libra!

[There it is, in all it's glory.]

Wouldn't you like to know.

action, later next week once people have gone *missing*

[moonchanting]

[ Lauma has always been a little on the quieter side, so not hearing from her for a day or two? That's normal.

But it's an absolute silence. Not even a quiet "good morning" when she drops by during her walks around the harbour, and the animals... While they may talk of his cousins kindness, there's a lot less of that recently. Like she's not even around.

And then one morning, there's a visitor to the lighthouse. A small, chubby pink visitor who is running as hard as her little legs can towards the lighthouse. Lauma's Clefairy, Enija, has always been fairly level-headed and calm but today she is running and wailing at the top of her voice; ]

Mr. Flins! Mr. Flins!

[lanternae]

[The silence had gotten Flins' attention, though he'd written it off due to the cold weather. Her morning walks along the harbor were habitual, but who's to say the recent temperature drops made it less than ideal? He'd understand. She WAS on the quieter side. One or two missed 'good morning's was not enough to worry about.

The animals lack of any updates could be explained, too. The seagulls had all but disappeared from the boardwalks in their search for lighter, so it's natural the animals would be feeling out of sorts.

It was nothing to worry about. Lauma was a responsible girl.

It's not until little Enija shows up at the lighthouse, with dutiful ol' Nikolai the Houndstone to escort her, that he realizes something is wrong. This Pokemon never left Lauma's side, and the fae's smile twitches in a slight crack in his armor.]

Miss Enija? What a pleasant surprise.

[He crouches down to try to console her, his yellow eyes now worried at her panic.]

Please..please calm yourself. Is there something the matter?


Where...is Lauma?