auspex_caelo | Incognito, Incorrigible (for smartass

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Incognito, Incorrigible (for smartass_captain)

Organizing a proper wedding is no small affair even on Earth. In Tamriel, without the benefit of instant communications, instant transport and year-round amenities, it requires a good deal more planning. Particularly when it comes to guests who live any distance away. Roads and seaways alike are dangerous. Bandits prowl the land routes. Inclement weather closes mountain passes and keeps ships in their berths. Everything, above all, takes time.

With spring in full flight, snows melting and roads well and truly open, the excuses for delays in invitation replies and guest arrivals are both running out. Mostly this hasn’t been an issue. The arcane side of their guest list have their own ways of sending word, and the military side have first call on the Imperial courier network. Everyone who matters is accounted for. Except, that is, for one…

In the library of the Bruma house, Stratos leans on a desk covered in papers and rubs his eyes. Another day, another absence of word. Marcella did warn him that her mother would be nigh-impossible to contact. She was almost too resigned to the fact to be grumpy about it. But Stratos had thought his connections would get him where his cousin had been unable to reach. The trouble, he sees now, is that he really can’t be sure where that is.

One guest. Perhaps it’s not a disaster if she can’t be there. But this is his mother’s sister, and they have so few near relatives left, since the War….

And he’s getting worried.

Stratos rises then, and tidies away his writing implements. He heads downstairs to his room and changes into better gear for travelling- not too warm, he doubts he’s going to end up in Skyrim – and then he goes to knock on Felix’s – well, his and Jim’s – door. Nereus is out visiting with Terentius, so there’s nothing else to distract the youngest two, nothing else that ought to be occupying them. And if they’re still resting on the Enterprise - well, he’ll just have to go there and fetch one of them.

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"I'd suggest climbing a tree but these are higher than half the buildings we've got back home." It's not easy to get their bearings amid all of this dense foliage but Jim can point out what looks to be an incline from where they're currently standing in the shadow of a towering giant of a tree. "This way looks promising."

Jim's not quite as quick on his feet as Stratos is with all of this undergrowth to step around, but he's keeping up alright enough for the time being.

"Right, no paperwork. With a man from Oblivion playing at being an adventurer. Probably not the best of situations to be caught in, Tribune. You think she's holed up out here, politics being what they are? Wouldn't she get trouble?"

"I'm a poor climber, in any case," Stratos admits. He's more than willing to follow the incline Jim points out, though he's watching his feet and trying to listen for trouble around them. Unfortunately, the way his family's always described it, he suspects anything in the jungle that's dangerous will have no trouble hiding beneath those sounds.

"I doubt she's close to here, actually. Not because our aunt has any aversion to trouble, however. It's more that she could be anywhere on this long, long coast and I need to narrow down where. Mind your footing. I think there's old stonework under this hill." Some of it's poking through the soil, bursting with greenery.

"Really? I enjoy it whenever I get the chance. Much to Felix's dismay, I might add. I think I've got him convinced I'm allergic to following paths."

They clearly manage just fine though. Especially if it's something they can still joke about. There's plenty of chance for peril lurking out in the wilds of Nirn. Even the roads aren't guaranteed to be safe although the risk is far less.

Speaking of safety, however...

Stratos barely has the words out of his mouth before Jim trips over an awkwardly jutting bit of rock hidden among the leaf litter and goes down roughly to hand and knee with a startled 'oof!' He's definitely living up to the 'amateur' bit of being an amateur adventurer.

"I'm fine--!" More embarrassed than hurt in any case. Jim's hopping back up to his feet swiftly. "Right, watch your step. Got it. Are you going to do that tracking magic once we get up there? Clairvoyance, was it? Is there a set distance that works for even?"

Stratos doesn't quite hide the affectionate snort at that. "I doubt he takes as much issue with it as he pretends. He spent long enough adventuring around Cyrodiil and Skyrim."

Jim's heard them talk about adventuring and adventurers often enough that it's become clear that's an accepted profession, or at least occupation of sorts. Even in a society as generally regulated and well-provided for as the Empire, there are uses for wandering outsiders, especially those with steady weapon hands and a dash of nerve. And plenty of young men and women who fancy the romantic life (and shiny coin) of a roving warrior without having to commit to a guild or mercenary company. It's pretty obvious where Felix fits into that.

Stratos turns to offer a hand when he hears Jim trip, but the captain's already springing up. Too determined not to seem like a liability. He can't help but smile. But then, Jim Kirk is one of the very few people the tribune isn't guarded around.

"Clairvoyance, yes. Distance itself isn't necessarily the issue, but the farther away your target the more intervening... features and magic that can foul the trail. I could use a small ritual to get a very precise fix... not unlike Isidor's method - but that's demanding and tends to leave out a great deal of context. A basic clairvoyance spell will give me a clear direction at the least. But I need height to ensure I get a true direction and not the start of a path through the woods."

He looks with some trepidation at the broken tower jutting out of the lower trees ahead. "...Which does mean some climbing, unfortunately."

"Mostly the climbing up rock faces when there's perfectly serviceable hiking trails, I think." More than once he's done the walk at a near sprint and then fretted over Jim the entire way until the captain reached the top to meet back up with Felix. Jim thinks it's great fun but of course he would.

Jim dusts himself off briskly as he takes his place back at the elder Caelus' side. He meant to do that, absolutely. Thank you for taking the lead in to change the subject without prompting, Stratos. Jim is grateful not to mention his clumsiness aloud now or ever. Ahem.

"Despite the last minute and a half or so, you've got the right hands for the job to help you." He's peering up at the tower thoughtfully. Trying to get a bead on how stable the structure is and whether or not it'll break the canopy if they ascend it. "Do you have or can you go get a length of rope? If you'd rather I can climb up and secure it further up so you can climb that instead. Might be easier for you. If it's long enough we can even knot it for footholds."

Edited 2019-08-11 15:27 (UTC)

He can hear Stratos hold back an undignified snort of laughter before he gives a gently chiding response that nonetheless has a hint of amusement beneath it. "That is a dangerous habit. I don't think he brought you all the way to this realm just to see his beloved dash his head on a mountainside."

Stratos is wishing, just now, that he'd spent more time working on figuring out those levitation spells. But Jim has a sound plan, and he nods slowly.

"I didn't think to bring one, but that's no matter. Let me check I have this position recorded." He cups his PINpoint with his hand as he takes it out to set the location, just in case any stealthy eyes are watching from the forest. "Wait here but a minute or two."

Technology and magic alike: they each have their ways of loading their dice. Stratos vanishes back to his camp and returns presently with a long coil of requisitioned rope slung over his shoulder. He takes another assessing look at the route Jim has to climb, and turns a reassuring look at the captain.

"Ordinarily I might try to insist I go, but aside from your experience, if I remain here, and you fall, then I can catch you telekinetically. You don't need to carry the rope up either, as a point of fact."

It's risky to use a PINpoint more than one has to anywhere, but this realm is particularly perilous given the lack of explanation to even make up for the disappearance and reappearance of a person. Illusion magic perhaps, but it won't explain the rope. Jim's well aware that teleportation has been lost to the ages supposedly. So keeps a casual seat on a nearby raised tree root larger around than himself and waits for the Tribune's return.

It really won't be long at all.

"Relax. I won't tell anyone you didn't do it. Especially your aunt." Jim hops off his seat and moves over to Stratos to reach out for the rope to take and is stopped by the declaration that it won't be necessary. His brow furrows until he remembers what telekinesis spells are used for (and then winces because it drug Felix down those steps it pulled his weapon from his hands don't think about it not now--) and he nods slowly with a carefully neutral expression for just a moment.

"Right. That makes things easier. Leave it to me."

The gnarled root system makes for a pretty good running off point. Jim can back up a ways and run right for them. One step, up to another, and them jumping at the last second to grab hold of a twisted knot in the trunk of the tree where perhaps once an age ago an old branch had been but has long since been either ripped away or deadened and fell off of its own accord. The bark is rough enough to give purchase for his feet--though it's not much. He's going to have to be using his arms primarily to find holds and haul himself up.

Once there's place for his feet to actually stand and put weight on the climb goes much easier. Rather than shout down toward the ground and Stratos, Jim pulls out his own PINpoint to text Stratos a quick message once he's made it into the remains of the tower.

Hang on, I'm not leaving you behind, I want to see how difficult and stable the rest of this is before I make a tie-off.

It's several probably worrisome minutes before Stratos will see Jim lean out of an intact window that seems to have primarily been made to allow one of the massive tree branches through the structure. He waves down toward Stratos to ask for the rope.

Jim can't do anything the sedate way, Stratos thinks, watching him take a running start to the climb. No wonder Felix gets worried. He's watching closely himself, the start of his spell readied in his hand for any sign that Jim's about to tumble. Around them the half-buried ruins echo with the chirps and trills of the forest. There's little wind down here: the trees are too dense to allow it through. It makes the air feel a little unnervingly oppressive to Stratos. He's used to the mountainsides and valleys of the north. Here he's already sweating uncomfortably.

He frowns and almost calls up after Jim, but just about catches the small buzz from his pocket as Jim messages him. It's a little unsettling, still: he's half waiting to hear the yelp and and crash as Jim misses his footing out of the mage's sight. When he sees Jim lean out and wave, he heaves a quiet sigh of relief.

Not that he doubts the captain, exactly, but it would be just some kind of fate for one of the betrothed couple to break his legs ahead of a wedding, wouldn't it?

Stratos waves in answer, and then aims his spell at the rope instead. The faint glow that accompanies it is entirely lost in the bright sunlight, but the coils lift into the air and float smoothly up to Jim, following Stratos's gesture. So far, so good.

What is 'take it easy'? Whyever would a man want to do that when there's so much fun to be had? Stratos has been around Jim long enough to know the captain's luck is why.

Still. At least in this endeavor Jim's more than capable.

As soon as the rope's been lifted high enough for the captain to reach it, Jim disappears back into the tower to throw his end of the rope around the anchor point before tying it off in a complicated looking knot and pulling it secure. It doesn't budge when Jim tests it with his own weight so he leans back out and gestures for the tribune to climb on up. If the window's too small for him to squeeze through it'll get him high enough up that he can stand at least. With the rope tied around him he won't fall all the way down, either.

Edited 2019-08-12 17:47 (UTC)

No matter his trepidation, the Imperial tribune can't let nerves get in the way of a job to be done either. Setting his pack aside with Jim's, he decides to follow the captain's example and goes for the rope with determined vigor. Just like scrambling up to the roof of their house at night, isn't it? He's not as sure-footed as Jim, but he makes it up safely and takes a moment to check his footing before he nods to Jim.

"Thanks. I'll need you to watch my back while I do this, as well." He's just going to carefully seek out the best vantage point- up these mossy steps looks like the surest bet - before he breathes in deeply and cups both hands into a clairvoyance spell. He needs to forget where he is and focus on where he wants to be. In his mind he holds a single, clear goal. Aunt Lartia. Lartia Avita Valeria, daughter of Bravil, scout of the Fifth Legion. Where are you?

He's keeping the spell directed away from the ground, so that when the smoky blue trail of light forms, it wanders off in a straight line through the air to his left. Stratos waits until he's sue he has it to drop one hand, holding the spell with the other while he pulls out the compass and takes a reading. Double, triple checks it. North-north-east. Well and good, he supposes.

"At least she isn't further south," he sighs. He's going to mark the direction on their map immediately. "Very well, let's get our supplies and move to our next... ah, destination."

"Don't worry, I've got you." Nevermind that Stratos is bigger than Jim is. The captain's prepared to reach out and steady Felix's--and his, soon--older brother should he misstep while he focuses on his spells. With a very specific few exceptions, something that Jim never gets tired of observing on Nirn are mages in the midst of their craft. Though clairvoyance sadly doesn't look like much to an outside observer.

He's sure Stratos has a spell in hand. Jim's seen both brothers adopt that gesture many times before over the years. He waits patiently for the spell to work its literal magic and Stratos to drop his hands completely before he tries for conversation again.

"Wasn't sure there was much further South to go." Jim nods toward the rope. "You first. I'll untie this and we can take it with us, just in case. Best not to leave it here for anyone to find. Then I can hop down and you can catch me."

Considering how vulnerable he is with his mind almost literally miles away, it's reassuring to know Jim's there watching over him. Stratos nods and takes a moment to double-check his feet are where he thinks before he moves over and grabs the rope. He'll clamber back down readily enough and stand well back, suddenly realizing that Jim might be about to jump- and in that case he'd better be ready.

"Are you coming-?"

One of the many many facets of Nirn that would be utterly terrifying if Jim knew even a little bit of how they worked. It's no small wonder why Stratos needs to double-check he's where he thinks he is considering he was briefly looking out over the Province to find his way. Or why he doesn't really argue with Jim's plan for getting down.

The rope will tumble down into a pile well before Jim does. The captain checks to make sure all's clear before signalling to Stratos and putting a whole lot of faith into the battlemage's alteration skills as he inches his way around to a clear drop to the ground and jumps.

Now Jim's prepared to tuck forward and roll either way to lessen the impact on his body if this doesn't work but he can feel himself slowing down as though an invisible net has grabbed hold of him well before his feet touch the ground. It leaves him in quiet fascination on hand and knee in the leaf litter for a second or two. Blue eyes wide with wonder when he turns his face upward to grin at Stratos.

Magic. So unbelievably useful.

Jim scrambles to his feet, dusting himself off and holding in the chuckle that threatens to escape. Try not to be so obviously impressed by every show of magic you see, Kirk. It very much would mark him as a tourist. Not an oft-heard of entity on Nirn and almost never friendly.

"So, where to next?" That was still unbelievably fun and Jim's not really able to hide his glee from showing on his face.

“Elsweyr,” Stratos says, and if there’s a dry inflection to it after their earlier conversation, he can hardly be blamed. He’s already smiling at Jim’s obvious appreciation of his craft. The tribune winds the rope up tight and tucks it into his pack before he sets the new co-ordinates and extends a hand.

The humidity vanishes from around them along with the green. They’re standing atop a low grassy hill, a warm dry breeze whipping at their hair. Around them are rolling golden grasslands, peppered with low scrub and small wizened trees that cast the only shade to be seen. One sits just behind them, and this time Stratos has no fear about scrambling up it. He’s muttering about this not being ideal, but there’s hardly much in the way of obstacles to this terrain, save some distant mountains…

Ah, and the hill towering up a few miles behind them. It’s ringed with pale stone walls, crowned with the pointed spires of a city quite unlike the Imperial or Nord architecture Jim’s seen before. On the slopes below it sit other houses of light wood- but some of the roofs are brightly colored, like paint or cloth. From all directions, it looks like, huge aqueducts run into it, almost overshadowing the terraces on the slopes below, clustered with houses at the top and spreading down into gardens and orchards. The nearest road into the city curves through the savannah below Jim and Stratos’s perch. It’s too distant to make out details, but it’s clearly busy with brightly-colored caravans, their escorts and other travellers making their way in both directions. Not as wide or as packed as the road to the Imperial City, maybe, but clearly a hub of trade and cultural interchange.

There aren’t jungle beasts to worry about, here; but while Stratos works Jim will spot a curious Khajiit notice them from the fields, and begin heading their way. When he warns his brother-in-law, the other man merely gestures, casting an illusion that replaces his appearance with that of a dark tabby Khajiit in his usual clothes- and if Jim looks down, he’ll find his hands clawed and covered in golden fur. Then Stratos hops down and sees about getting them out of there, barely giving Jim time to check out the illusory tail curling from behind himself. If the local gets a glimpse of them before they depart, well- two Khajiit disappearing into thin air is almost as plausible as his having been mazed by the sun.

They splash when they appear next, and Stratos curses as he hurries out of the knee-high water they’ve landed in. They’re back in a forest, but one where trees akin to palms and mangroves sink roots deep beneath the shallow waters around them. The air is humid again, cooler but more fetid than that in Valenwood, and around them chirp amphibians as well as insects. A tattered-looking boat dock stands a little way along the islet they’ve retreated to. An aerial creature flaps by above the trees, screaming harshly on its way.

“This is definitely Black Marsh,” Stratos says to Jim, tipping the water out of his boots with a pull of his face. He’s smelled worse things, but he bets that’s going to linger. “If I had any doubt we were in the right place… This is the Argonian homeland.”

"Should've known." It's a not-that-clever joke that just makes itself. At least Stratos isn't looking smug about the telling of it. Makes it easier for Jim not to roll his eyes. Easier to grab hold of the Tribune's hand and breathe in one last damp lungful of air--

Into a third altogether different climate than anything Jim's encountered on Nirn before. Stratos knows what he needs for his spells which is all well and good because Jim can't stop gaping at the vastly changed scenery all around them. In the back of his head something niggles at him that this makes a certain amount of sense. That the Khajiit are large cats and this sort of environment would be well suited to their ancestors if not to themselves exactly. That the architecture he's seeing in this distant city isn't altogether alien either. If Lartia is to be found there, what kinds of sights would they run across?

But deep evolutionary thought has to take a backseat for prodding and poking at the scrub (stuffing a few leaves from the haggard bush into a pouch to study later), to turning round in a slow circle like he had in Valenwood to get his bearings. Except this time they're not so alone as they would like. Jim's quiet swearing draws Stratos out of his concentration on his spell but by the time he's reaching up to grab for the Tribune's boot Jim has to falter when Stratos no longer looks like himself. And further when he spies the Wrongness in his own hand and arm reaching out.

He doesn't register Stratos grabbing hold of his outstretched hand or their leaving. It takes them splashing into the Marsh for Jim to snap out of it, jerking around and very nearly falling right on his ass into the murky water. He manages to catch his balance as he drags himself up the muddy shoreline. The forest looks darker than it is while his eyes are still adjusting but Jim's would be wide either way. Thankfully the illusion seems to have vanished with their position. Jim's own hands are his own. No tail, no fur.

"Do...we have to turn ourselves into lizard folk now too? They don't talk like we do. If someone sees us it's not going to be easy to slip past."

"This region is much more sparsely inhabited," Stratos explains. "With any luck we'll encounter nobody, especially in this terrain." He pauses, looking at Jim. "Are you all right? I suppose that illusion must have been rather disconcerting."

If Jim's all right, though, he'll hurry about his task. They could really stand to be on higher ground but according to his map there isn't any within a range he cares to travel on foot. He'll need Jim's help to get any kind of perch in a tree that suits him, though he'll be making disapproving noises while he works. It's just not as easy to get a reliable fix here, apparently.

"What? No, I'm fine. Obviously it wasn't real." Jim definitely remembered that this was a particularly strong skill of Stratos' and didn't freak out there. Not one bit. He's suave, cool, and in control. Definitely. Absolutely.

~~Not~~.

Look either way they've got work to do and Jim certainly doesn't want to talk about his own less than clever adaptation to the situation at hand. The trees here aren't ideal for scaling anywhere up past their raised root system. Their branches don't tend to spread out until far up into the canopy leaving nothing but sheer trunks to try and ascend. They're not without hope though. Stratos has his neat little telekinesis trick and they have the rope.

They can get the rope up and over a sturdy looking branch and Jim can start a sliding knot that will catch when they get it back up to the hold point. It's slow work that may be tricky for Stratos to work his spell with but it's Doable and he's welcome to slog a potion if he needs to once they've got a way up secure.

"Alright, up you go. I don't have any magical powers but if you fall I'll try to break it and shunt us off into the water instead of shattering our spines on the wood here."

Jim is totally cool and Stratos is definitely not smiling in the slightest. Well, he isn't when he has to get up into that tree. It's a testament to his skill with these spells and his strength compared to Felix that the older Caelus doesn't seem overly fatigued by the repeated casting, though Jim can see that he's staying quiet and still up there well after the glow of the spell has faded. Throwing his mind that far multiple times takes some toll, and he needs a minute to recollect himself- without letting go of the bearing he's taken.

He won't be responding to Jim for a few moments... which isn't ideal, because it's going to occur to the captain that one of the shadows beneath the nearby trees wasn't there when he looked last. There's a figure there, dull green and brown as the swamp gloom... and huge enough to melt its outline with the trunk and branches of the tree beside it. But there's a suggestion of eyes, bright in the shadow.

Then, slowly, it opens its jaw. And opens. And opens. A long, wicked maw like a crocodile's.

Jim's perched on one of the raised roots a good half meter above the water with one hand holding on to the rope while he watches Stratos carefully. Ready to try and grab for the mage if he falls, or to scramble up the rope after him if he takes a knee up in the tree because he's unwell from so much casting.

It means he's not really watching the water line right away. Not until there's the smallest of sounds in the water and by then he's staring into the mostly open maw of a creature that is very clearly of the Jim Eating Monster size range. The half second that passes is simultaneously the longest wait of Jim's life and no time at all. The captain's yelping in alarm, his left hand wrapped around the rope once while the right drags the knife out of it's sheath at his side.

Jim's only going to take one swipe with his weapon toward the creature's snout before he's shoving it back into place and hauling himself up that rope as far as he can get in the precious few moments his mostly ineffectual attack is going to buy him.

"Shit, fuck! Make room up there!!"

Jim can hear the reptilian hiss from just below him before the jaws snap shut hard- too fast, too close! The creature's moving slower than the terrified human, and it's not tall enough to reach the branch above. Stratos has to grab at the nearest overhead branch to keep from falling out, however.

"What-?!" He sputters, only to find his gaze dragged down to the scaly mass and the pallid yellow glow of the eyes below them. From this angle they have a full, unpleasant view. The creature looks like a crocodile warped into humanoid shape and given unholy size, taller than any human or elf. And were that all, they'd have little to fear, but there's a cold intelligence in those eyes. Stratos has a horrible feeling he knows what this is.

Then it takes hold of the rope and starts pulling the branch down.

"Talos- Jim, where's your PINpoint?" Because if the captain left it with the pack down there, Stratos might have to get dangerous.

Jim's going to be up the rest of the length of rope in a manner of seconds. Whoever said Jim had a broken fight or flight response is vastly incorrect. His flight response works Perfectly Well when inclined to trigger. Jim's going to be urging Stratos to climb higher as soon as he's caught up.

"Stop staring, go! Now!!" Before it yanks the branch down low enough to reach or worse yet, snaps it entirely. "It's down there--!" Because it was definitely in the pack. Jim hadn't gotten around to sneaking it out to save the coordinates here yet in his shock over Stratos' illusions he'd pulled out in Elsweyr. Considering he told himself he was bringing it to keep close to hand in case they were attacked, well....Jim will kick himself over this later.

For now ensuring he's alive later to do it is much more important.

Stratos grabs Jim's arm and shakes his head. They can't let themselves be cornered here, and the PINpoint is too precious to abandon. "Get ready to grab it!"

So saying, he throws a fireball into the reptilian maw below them. It snaps shut immediately-and painfully. The beast makes an unearthly sound, too human to be reptile and too feral to be human or even Gorn. It lets go the rope suddenly, head lowered and writhing in pain, jaws opening and closing, and Stratos throws himself off the branch over it's back. He can't clear its length, and the massive thrashing tail catches him midair, knocks him bodily to the ground. Winded, the mage nonetheless pushes himself up, ready to try and blast the monster back if Jim needs it. Creatures like that are resilient. The cursed, alas, often are.

Stratos is right. Jim grits his teeth hard enough that under normal circumstances Stratos would be able to hear him grinding them in his distress while he tries to wrangle control back from the panic seizing in his chest. He's dealt with worse before, they can handle this.

Jim's never been great with one on one fights with monsters, admittedly, but you know. He's got backup in an Imperial Battlemage. To his credit the second Stratos is dropping down Jim's letting go right after him. His boots sink a good couple of centimeters into the mud which throws him way off balance when he tries to run for the shore and their set aside packs. It works out in his favor though.

Wet as he may get from falling into the water it puts him out of reach from the swiping claws that would have torn right through his thin gear and simple tunic. Jim's up and bolting up the shoreline immediately after he's freed his boots. He snatches up each of their packs in one arm apiece and grabs for his PINpoint.

If he can just get ahold of Stratos they can get out of here--!

The therianthrope is hurt, but they are resilient, and as it turns on its intended prey it's clearly raging. Its powerful tail sweeps around again, but Stratos has backed up far enough it only clips his shoulder hard enough to bruise. Its pale eyes take them both in, calculating just as the mage is. Stratos knows he's the one who's angered it, he's the obvious threat, the obvious target. He looks at that thick scaled hide: lightning won't be quick enough, nor fire...

Then the beast lowers its head, drops its jaw open, and pounds toward Jim.

"Talos-!" There's no time to question. No time to do anything but loose the spell he was reaching for. The temperature suddenly plummets all around them. There's pale cold light around Stratos's hands, swirling with ice that he hurls down onto the ground before him. It erupts across the dirt, shoots forward in a spreading swathe of ice, instantly freezing the plants in its way, the air above it howling in a sudden snowy vortex.

It hits the were-crocodile in the midst of its building sprint for Jim. Frost blooms instantly across the dappled scales, thickening into an icy crust: the creature slips and crashes to hands and knees, motions slowing, suddenly fighting an instinctive battle against a more potent enemy than blades or teeth.

Stratos sways in place, gulping air and coughing at the sudden tickle of frost in his throat. An icy-cold mist fills the glade around them, wisping in slow tendrils against the warm air beyond. But he hears ice crack. The beast is sluggish, struggling. But it is moving.

Frost is Felix's specialty when it comes to destruction magic. That's an important tidbit of information because it means Jim's expecting the spell Stratos unleashes. He doesn't flinch away from the magic or scream or throw himself away into the mud further from the mage like he might have if the battlemage startled him with another kind of magic Jim wasn't used to.

The temperature around them plummets and Jim, soaking wet that he is, feels his tunic go stiff from the frost. His skin stings everywhere the ice is touching but that's such a small price to pay for getting out of here alive.

Stratos will feel the captain's arms lock around his middle and send them tumbling to the--

Oof.

The floor of Felix's bedroom in the Caelus family home. Hope no one else is at home. Jim's half on top of Stratos, somewhere between shivering and shaking from the adrenaline still in his system. It's cozy and warm back here, though the room's quickly going to start smelling like thawing marsh mud.

"Th'fuck....was...that?"

Edited 2019-08-26 21:16 (UTC)

Incognito, Incorrigible (for smartass_captain)

Finished my data entry queue \o/

Freedom!

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I so rarely get an excuse to use this icon

Living up to my purpose of enabling you constantly :muscle:

much appreciated!

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I shouldn't still be at the office but here we are

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