Mι∂ηιgнт Ɠяιη∂

[formidable]

Private AU/PSL RP. A tale of two brothers from alternate 1879 France, and the witch, her golem, and other colorful characters, who get entangled in their lives. Urban fantasy, steampunk, magic, guns, and coffee collide. ➤ PART I ➢ "La Caravane".

Comments

[pragnanz]

[ Claude almost catches himself saying wait, warning a golem that he knows is perfectly capable of holding his own against... potentially harming himself? He isn't even sure, and the thought isn't welcome. Instead, he blocks Iona's way by situating himself between the balcony and her, subtly preventing her from doing anything that he deems to be 'reckless' or 'stupid'.

Again, he knows that she's far more capable than he is of holding her own, but. Still.

When the threat abates, when Oren finishes setting the fallen rafter aside and the screaming crowd has mostly displaced itself outside the opera house, Claude sighs.

And slumps back down into a chair. ]

A "teeny tiny problem". [ U LIED IONA ]

[infusion]

[JUST A LITTLE?

Iona runs her hands through her hair taking a very deep breath taking a step back from Claude.]

I didn't want to blow it out of proportion.

But yeah.

[She tries to look behind Claude, clearly worried for Oren.]

It's a good thing he jumped in but...

[At this point, was it a good idea to leave Paris?]

[pragnanz]

It was preferable to you jumping in, I imagine.

[ Tersely, but with finality: "he wouldn't have wanted you to get hurt", is the silent implication. Indelicate, but honest.

Once he steadies his own heart rate (he hadn't noticed it spiking, how embarrassing), he takes a beat to catch up on his breathing. ]

...I'm quite certain that whoever is responsible for this mess is already aware that you two are here, magic cloaking or no.

1/4

[infusion]

... Right.

[She exhales softly.]

And it's turning out like I was afraid it might... It won't matter who's in the way.

[A lot of people will be hurt if it got in the way of whoever was hiding in the shadows of the opera.]

[oren]

Perpetrator. Unknown origin. Interesting.

[Oren has made his way back up to their location. Since the theater is cleared out, there wasn't anyone in his way so he could walk up the stairs quickly.

And his words do have a point.]

Iona. Me. Been in Paris twice. No hint of supernatural. Just us. Now's different.

[infusion]

Yeah... Like, on our side, stuff like that is "normal" in a sense that we're aware that the strange and unusual exist, but here? Really, REALLY out of place isn't it?

Anyways, Oren are you okay? It's been a while since you went all out like that!

[Iona goes around Claude to reach up and cup's Oren's face. It's a tender gesture and oddly personal.]

Do you feel weird? Do you need to go to Berna after we go back...?

[oren]

... No.

[And suddenly the golem wobbles back and forth and then falls sideways.

Onto Gus.]

Worries too much.

1/2

[pragnanz]

[ As much as Claude shouldn't care about the politics of it all (it's already been made abundantly clear to him that his input is largely worthless in this city), any impending threat is something that should be addressed... if only to keep Gus out of trouble. And harm.

Which is why he straps himself into his resignation, why he sees Oren wobble and feels a flicker of concern—

—until he falls onto his half-brother. Ah. ]

...If you need a place to rest, there are some excellent hotels by the river.

[ So, so dryly. ]

[effet]

[ Gus, on his end, is a doge pancake. ]

Oreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!!! YOU'RE SO HEAVY!!!!!!!!!!!!

[infusion]

Ack! Oren, you say that and NOW you're falling over!?

[And truly, Oren is quite heavy... He's made of tougher stuff than humans after all even if he feels human on the surface. Iona does Gus a favor by dragging the golem by the arm and making him lean on her.]

We'll probably have to extend our stay at this rate.

[The witch looks very worried. Problems keep piling up, one after another.]

The Grind should be fine since Monts has access, but Oren...

[Oren needs time to recharge. Berna isn't around and Iona doesn't have her grandmother's expertise when it comes to maintaining him.

It's complicated magic stuff.]

[pragnanz]

...Is there anything he requires in particular?

[ Doctor instincts, sue him. It occurs to Claude that Oren is a magical being, and that the usual sort of human remedies won't work on him.

How interesting.

But he manages to steer away from his practical desire to see how the golem ticks, and decides upon a more productive, possibly more polite way to approach his companion's maladies. ]

Unfortunately [ he stresses this word... ], the flat next to mine is empty. If you require medical assistance— as outdated as ours is sure to be, for you— it would be convenient if you took up shop there.

[infusion]

He... He just needs rest. Weird, I know, golem and all, but for once, it's applicable. His core isn't as strong as it used to be and...

[Her right hand that supports Oren unconsciously grips his arm.

Iona's eyes show her surprise at Claude's offer. It's... She can't say she expected it really? He'd be more stand offish wouldn't he? Or is she just assuming things again?]

... The flat sounds great, Claude. And if we got a ghoul in the opera to deal with, might as well make a base!

[Her voice returns to its cheery and heartened tone.]

[pragnanz]

[ The fact of the matter is that he relates to the concept of being tied to someone, having someone be around you and having that presence sometimes be a component of guilt. Iona worries about Oren, that much is obvious: he sees her worry for him in ways that he recognizes to be familial, important.

It makes him sick (not in a bad way, which makes him feel sicker), because he knows that connections are important.

God, he hates relating to people.

After he makes his offer, he turns away so that Iona won't be able to see the way his expression twists just a fraction. She's such a bad influence, why is she making him empathize with people, ugh. ]

...We'll let him rest, then. Auguste, will you be fine on your own on your way back?

[ His brother knits his brows, but ultimately nods. Of course, Gus'd wanted to stick around and explore a bit more, but that would be foolish, even for his standards. ]

Tomorrow, I'll see if I can't find a map of the underground. Something for Oren to look over while he's bedridden.