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[formidable]

Private AU/PSL RP, set anywhere from 1879 alternate history France to 21st century North America. A tale of two brothers and the witch and her golem who gets entangled in their lives. Urban fantasy, steampunk, magic, guns, and coffee collide. ➤ PART I ➢ "La Caravane".

Comments

[ataraxic]

Wow.

That was a nice compliment, but wow.

[Oren... May or may not be debating about making a cake with non-sugar sweetener soon...

Solomon's just weirded out by this weirdo.]

You're pretty bold. Saying something like that to the big brother.

[effet]

[ Let's be real, Gus, as worldly as he can be and as jaded as he is about certain things, is still a rich boy sheltered by his circumstances.

AKA: sometimes, he's used to being able to get away with being stupidly forthright. ]

Is it? It's just the truth— what's lovely is lovely, right.

[ataraxic]

Kid.

[Solomon shakes his head.]

Jackie may be pretty to you, but that's probably because you haven't gotten on her brutal side.

[There is a reason why Solomon would not-so jokingly call Iona a half-pint blood knight.]

That aside, glad you're getting along. Most non-magickind would be more nosy and annoying about the whole, well, magic thing.

[effet]

There's nothing wrong with that! I know some scary people.

[ Weirdly... upbeat about this confession, because it's true. Though, to be fair, he doesn't underestimate Iona at all— he knows that she's capable of a lot more than how she seems, and his brother would know a little more about that. ]

But... well. I guess it comes with the territory? She doesn't need to tell me everything about herself if she doesn't want to. [ He deals in secrecy all the time, and he's grown accustomed to it. So he shrugs, acts like it's not a big deal when sometimes, all he wants is a degree of honesty. ] It's amazing, though, huh? She's really amazing!

[oren]

[Oren has a slice of blueberry yogurt cake with strawberries for Gus. He's biding his time with replacing sugar with Splenda, just you wait bastard]

Not helping your case.

[Oren... please... Solomon did raise his brow up at the "knowing scary people," part, but it does explain how Gus isn't spooked by Iona and her crystal arm.]

[effet]

[ !! Cake!!! Oren, you lifesaver... even if a Splenda future is in Gus's horizon.

He puffs slightly when Oren mentions that he's not helping his own case, though. Spoilsport!! ]

You don't think anything ever helps my case, Oren.

[ataraxic]

Ah. [Solomon grins at their banter.]

So I see that Oren's got his own personal punching bag?

[oh no gus]

[effet]

[ SOLOMON NO!!! ]

Hey, hey, hey!!! I can punch him back!!

[ Liar. ]

[ataraxic]

Have you tried? Iona's tough, but Oren's on another level.

[Solomon gives a friendly pat on the arm to Oren who just turns to go back to the kitchen.]

Seriously though, he isn't argumentative a whole lot of the time, but you're definitely something special if you get him out of his shell too.

[Being a jerk is Oren's way of getting out of his austere shell??? APPARENTLY???]

That or he's just trying to protect Jackie from you... That's usually it...

[That too.]

1/2

[effet]

Hahh, don't worry about it.

I know Oren has a soft spot for me, deep down!

[effet]

Deep...deep down.

[oren]

. . .

. . .

[Oren turns around, walks back, and slooooooowly reaches over to take away the blueberry yogurt cake...]

[effet]

[ GRABS THE PLATE ]

No need to be shy, friend!!!!!

[ataraxic]

[Before Oren can reply, Solomon gives the golem a gentle nudge towards the kitchen and he relents wordlessly and without much expression. With Oren, despite his stoic appearance and lack of vivid emotion, his actions definitely explained more than enough.

Solomon chuckles, shaking his head.]

You two are definitely on the right track.

[A very bumpy track where Oren cockblocks Gus from Iona. Speaking of which...]

Although since I'm usually not around, someone's gotta be vigilant for her.

[effet]

[ It's amazing that Solomon can get Oren to relent, just like that, but Gus figures that it's an Oakes thing: that it runs in the family. ]

Oren does a great job, trust me. I thought I knew what vigilance was, but Oren takes it to another level.

[ too far... too far!! ]

...What do you do, by the way? Are you also in the magic business?

[ataraxic]

Ah, Jackie didn't tell you yet?

[He rests his cup on the table before answering.]

Carpentry. Some metalwork when I feel like it. But I guess my "real" work is house renovation.

[None of these occupations sound the least bit magic oddly enough.]

[effet]

[ Yeah, all of this is...surprisingly tame, though to be fair, Iona's outward occupation as a employee at a coffeeshop is just as innocuous. ]

You build... houses?

[ How does one put this delicately... ]

...With... magic?

[ Right, you don't. ]

[ataraxic]

[Solomon shakes his head.]

I try not to use too much magic in my work. [There's a bit of a warm twinkle in his eye when he says that part.] I might sneak a bit in, but otherwise it's all hands on.

I help build houses, yes, but I'm more of a makeover guy. Go into an old place, make it new again add some nice things I might have made myself.

[He pats the bench and table he's sitting on.]

Like this for instance. I add my own touches, magic and non-magic.

[effet]

[ Gus supposes he understands...some of this, to an extent. Enchantments, right? Something being imbued with magic, maybe just for sturdiness's sake. It makes sense. ]

Maybe you can build a nice enchanted cottage for me and Iona...

[ Keep dreaming, nerd. He says that under his breath, though, and follows it up with something a little more serious. ]

Must be nice. You have little pieces of yourself all over the world!

1/2

[ataraxic]

[If Oren heard that...

Solomon smiles and he takes another sip of coffee. He keeps his work mostly in the States, but he decides it isn't a necessary correction to make.]

I do my best. Warlocks and witches might as well do something that can contribute.

[It's kind of a sobering thing to say, but before any of that can sink in...]

[infusion]

—Sully! Back three days in a row? That's a new record!

[The door has opened, and who else could it be, but Iona herself, dressed in a long indigo skirt and a cream top, tote bag slung over her shoulder.]

Awesome, you even finished the bench and—...

[WELL, that's not just some random blonde isn't it? She stops at the sight of Gus, blinking once, twice—]

Gus?

1/3?!

[effet]

[ Gus, like a trained dog (down, boy), jerks up in his chair when he hears Iona's voice— because it is her, isn't it, there's no mistaking that. ]

Ion—

[ Her name is halfway out of his mouth when his foot snags against the carpet, sending him crashing facefirst back onto the table. ]

—Ionaaa...

[effet]

[ CLAWING HIMSELF UP... SLOWLY... OFF OF THE TABLE, hoping he doesn't have a bloody nose... ]

[effet]

[ His nose is absolutely bleeding, but god, HE'S GOING TO SMILE. ]

—Iona!! Good evening to you, lovely lovely Iona!!

[ GUS YOU'RE BLEEDING ON THE TABLE ]

[ataraxic]

[GUS... YIKES MAN...

Solomon isn't sure how to feel about this except that he can probably understand why Iona fears for this boy's life. He takes a napkin from the counters and hands it to Gus while Iona sets down her tote wincing at the bloody nose.]

Buddy. You got a little something there...