this is an open log

[miscreant]

Date & Time: January 20th to January 31st
Location: See prompts!
Characters: Seviilia and YOU
Summary: Catch all log for cr
Warnings: Most likely none, will edit

Exsilium

[It was rare that Seviilia ventured into the local population on her own, but recent visits had convinced her that she needed something more respectable than a hole in the side of a rock formation. Her carpentry skills were minimal, but enough that she could put a roof over her head with some time. She would make no plans to house herself with other transports, so this would have to do.

Even with the hologram, the death knight seems to stand out in the crowd of bundled natives. She has no weapons visible, and she hides beneath a heavy white cloak, jet black hair held back out of stormy grey eyes with a silver bangle in a short ponytail over one shoulder. Her ears, no longer long and dead, remain pierced along the cartilage with the same earrings she owned in death, the most spectacular of them being a gold ring with a purple gem set inside of it. If anyone happens to catch her hand moving out of her cloak, they might spot light (but familiar) scarification across her hands and up her arms before it disappears into a white sleeve at her elbow.

A few natives recoil when she moves to exchange items for things like nails and tools, but she doesn't linger long afterwards. Occasionally, she might look up and glare when someone slips passed her just a bit too close, but Seviilia is very obviously in a hurry.

Everyone is pressed too closely for her liking.]

Cave

[Seviilia is spending the evening with a fire as she sorts her tools, making her a bit easier to find amongst the incredibly white landscape. There is already the start of a foundation built, along with a large pile of fresh lumber and logs that she had gathered. She appears to be taking a break from her work to finish skinning a few no-longer-recognizable animals with the knife given to her by Chloe.

She does not appear to be paying much attention to her surroundings.]

Forest

[Anyone unfortunate enough to be in the forest may hear (or feel) the collapsing of trees as Seviilia goes about her business of collecting large logs for her project. Or, perhaps they might catch her hiking across the tundra, pulling a makeshift sled with a few logs piled atop one another.]

Wildcard

[Got your own? Hit me]

Comments

[miscreant]

[The pair of stormy gray eyes roll to the side. She completely ignores the trinket bait. If there was anyone she did not want to talk about Aelaidas with, it was Marduk.

Her eye contact doesn't move from his face. She does not miss his unwillingness to keep it.]

My supplies for more practical living in the wild are limited.

[oversleeps]

[ really. he does look back at her at that, giving her a sidelong glance. ]

Practical living-- for who? [ please, lady. he's been dead before. he knows you don't really need that much. ] All the company you keep?

[miscreant]

Myself.

[She doesn't appear put off by his question, and merely offers a small shrug.]

I like to keep my hands busy.

[And, depending on how much attention he was paying to said hands, one of them will come up to his face, and she will tap his nose with a long talon beneath the hologram. A not-so-innocent smirk cracks across her face again.]

[oversleeps]

[ seviilia's jab makes him flinch, but not as much as her touch does. he jerks back from her hand, automatically grabbing onto her wrist to keep her from doing anything more. that's a decision he regrets as soon as they make contact, but he stands firm by it, fingers not loosening in the slightest. ]

Woulddn't think you'd need extra supplies for that.

[miscreant]

[She chuckles and let's her wrist go limp in his hand, closing some of the distance to try and force him to let go by discomfort alone.

She does pull against his grip just a bit -- she wants out of this cluster of people sooner rather than later.]

No? The only tools I have at my disposal are a skinning knife and my runeblades.

[oversleeps]

[ his grip holds fast. he isn't letting go without a fight this time, even if he can feel the numbness beginning to creep in. ]

A skinning knife. [ unsurprising but still unsettling to think about for overlong. marduk briefly struggles with adding something else onto that, but says silent, the only evidence of his thoughts being how he digs his nails into her wrist a bit. ]

[miscreant]

A skinning knife.

[She practically purrs the confirmation. But when Seviilia notices he isn't interested in releasing her, she stops trying to tug away. They are close enough where the other man might feel the frost rolling off her breath.]

Is there something you want from me, Marduk?

[She flexes the hand in his grip so he is able to feel the strong tendons moving in her wrist.]

[oversleeps]

[ her flexing only serves as motivation for him to drive his claws in deeper, a sensation that feels entirely too familiar after their previous encounter. he's well aware that seviilia can choose to take back her hand anytime she chooses. the fact that she has yet to is distressing.

distressing until he chooses to ignore it, at least. ]

What could I want from you.

[ it's not as if he knows. ]

[miscreant]

The question of the evening, isn't it?

[She clenches her fist so the muscles rubs against his nails - enough to prick skin and coat the tips in her thick blood. She doesn't look down.]

If there is nothing...then perhaps you might consider releasing me.

[oversleeps]

[ marduk stares at her long and hard, the muscles in his jaw working even as he stays quiet. he can feel when he finally pierces the skin, there, and takes that as his cue to release her; he yanks his hand away from hers with a low growl, claws catching enough to let out more of what passes for her blood before they separate from her wrist entirely.

his fingers are going to be cold for the rest of the night, he thinks. marduk stands there still, gazing at seviilia, unmoving though he's let her go. ]

[miscreant]

[Seviilia doesn't flinch when his claws catch, not really, but makes a show of recoiling when it happens. The blood does not flow out of the scratches like it should, but sits and coagulates on the surface of her skin.

She takes a moment to inspect the damage with feigned interest before letting her hand fall, throwing Marduk a sly smile.]

You have quite a grip, when you put your mind to it.

[oversleeps]

[ he growls again, not particularly won over by her mocking compliment. it's not cute; he knows all her movements are fake. ]

I think we're done here. [ he still does not move. ]

[miscreant]

No no. We are not anything.

[She touches the scratch to cover the blood flow, and a moment later the skin seems to heal. As she starts to step passed Marduk, he might notice the ground where she was standing has blackened with disease, melting some of the snow that attempts to rest there.]

But if you have somewhere else to be, then by all means...be on your way.

[She strides directly past him, checking his hip rudely with one of her own. The napsack over her shoulder is adjusted with the telltale rattle of nails and other metal objects as she moves.]

[oversleeps]

[ her bump does throw him off balance for a moment there, and he whirls around full of righteous indignation. after he was just going to call it a day and let her pass by, too. the urge to follow her rises and is almost overwhelming, but he manages to battle it down into one stupid question, instead. ]

How far to the south? [ it wouldn't be today; it likely wouldn't be tomorrow, either. just... sometime soon. ]

[miscreant]

[There is slight movement beneath her hood as her long ears perk with interest under the hologram. Seviilia turns just enough to glance back at him with one eye.]

On average, about a day's travel on foot.

[Not that she thought he would make that sort of journey. Almost nobody did once she told them.]

[oversleeps]

[ whose average? he wants to ask, but bites it back. no sense in prolonging the conversation here. not while she's walking away, and he's distinctly unharmed (for now).

a day in the cold isn't so bad. he'll write it down when he gets home. satisfied with that, he sharply turns away from seviilia, leaving in the opposite direction through the crowd. ]