cuz though the truth may vary...

[healplz]

Date & Time: Forward dated to the 15th, evening
Location: Koltira's lake
Characters: Koltira & Ashraf
Summary: so a priest and a zombie start drinking together...
Warnings: PROBABLY NOT

[ Ashraf warps himself to the lake within five minutes of ending the call with Koltira, a bottle of scotch in one hand and two glasses in the other. He doesn't intend to drink very much, but... enough to relax. It's been a trying week and a half— nearly two weeks, really.

Just thinking of it makes him sigh. He starts toward the skeleton of the half-constructed cabin at the side of the lake, glancing around for Koltira. For once, he's moving at normal speeds, without his almost constant spell of agility. ]

Comments

[healplz]

[ ...True, that. He considers it for a few seconds, then glances over. ]

So you won't mind if I cast it again?

[deadelfwalking]

[RAISES AN EYEBROW.]

I might start thinking you don't like the sound of my voice.

[healplz]

[ smiiiilleeeess, waves a dismissive hand. ]

I like it well enough, unearthly echo and all.

[deadelfwalking]

[dryly.] You flatter me.

[Koltira finds a mostly untapped bottle and starts in on it. This is an undeniably pleasant time; he likes Ashraf, and he feels about as calm as he's able to be, especially given all the recent events. Even so, he can't stave off the feeling that it's all wrong; that he's not meant to have this.

He glances back at Ashraf.]

Just try not to pass out.

[healplz]

I will do my best.

[ He eyes the remains of his drink for a few seconds, then glances out to the lake, and finally over to Koltira's drink, to gauge the portability of it. Suddenly, simply sitting has lost its appeal. ]

Would you like to take a walk with me?

[deadelfwalking]

Are you able to walk? [teasing--he's already on his feet.] Or shall I carry you?

[healplz]

Well, I might use a hand up, in the least. [ One hand extending KIND OF EXPECTANTLY. ] Although I would make a very poor priest, needing to be carried anywhere.

[deadelfwalking]

[he reaches down and clasps Ashraf by the forearm, pulling him up handily.] You don't have much weight to you. It wouldn't be terribly difficult.

[healplz]

I have plenty of weight to me. [ Said with just a slightly offended frown. And then a brief wobble when he makes it up because, you know, booze. ] And I prefer to spend my time with both feet on the ground.

[deadelfwalking]

[sure you do, sugarcake. He steps away once Ashraf is up, bowing slightly.]

My deepest apologies, priest. Lead the way.

[healplz]

I will, although I seem to remember that as a knight's job.

[ And after pausing to scoop up his glass, he starts forward! Toward the standing skeleton of the cabin, actually. It looks like as good a thing to drunkenly examine as any. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[mildly.] But is it a death knight's job?

[He follows after Ashraf, shaking his head. The skeleton is just that--a collection of wooden beams that form the vague shape of a three-room cabin, standing on a basic foundation. Larger pieces of wood, some with intricate carvings, are scattered here and there. Some nicely woven packs are piled in one corner of the front 'room'.]

[healplz]

[ If he even hears that, he's too focused on being determined to move without tripping to answer. He's at one of those carved pieces of wood before he even properly looks up, and finds himself studying it admiringly. ]

You carved this? [ He may be shit at creative things himself, but at least he can appreciate them. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[the design loops and swirls in a complex, abstractly floral pattern, like a stylized impression of leaves and petals. He shrugs at it.]

Yes. It is a common motif of the high elves.

[healplz]

[ Boy, don't you just shrug at that impressive crap. Ashraf frowns, glancing back again to Koltira. ]

Can you play music?

[deadelfwalking]

[begrudgingly.] I can, but it has been many years.

[healplz]

[ FROWNING MORE ] Can you paint?

[deadelfwalking]

Why are you asking me these things? [Ashraf is reminding him too much of his life, his actual life, where he was happy and breathing and playing the pan pipes at banquets every other night.]

[healplz]

I only want to be sure you can't do everything. It's beginning to seem like it.

[ But here he... loses a little of the mocking displeasure he'd had going and looks a little unsure, because oops, was that actually too personal? He's new to etiquette around dead guys... ]

[deadelfwalking]

My race is long-lived, Ashraf. We were at the height of our prosperity when I was alive, and we have always been dedicated to the finer pursuits. I had a great deal of time to learn whatever I cared to.

[had. had. He stares down at the carving, muttering.] It is a miracle that I recall it all, I suppose.

[healplz]

[ Oh noooo enjoy this look of guilt, Koltira!! He shifts uneasily, dropping his eyes back to the carving again. ]

Forgive me. That was unthinking of me.

[deadelfwalking]

[oh lawd not with the face.] Forget about it. [he nudges the carved piece away with his foot.] And this, too. Such things no longer matter.

[healplz]

[ There's something about the dismissal of a beautiful thing that just totally doesn't jive with him, but unfortunately, eloquence is a thing of sobriety. So he only pauses, tries a small smile, and glances up again at Koltira. ]

It will look wonderful when it's completed.

[deadelfwalking]

I'm hoping for 'serviceable'. [but if that were entirely true, he wouldn't be bothering with all the extra work, and even he can't deny that.] ... but the high elf style of architecture is all I know.

[healplz]

In that case, it makes me wish all the more I could one day see your home.

[ He leans against one of the standing beams, arms folding over his chest. All of this talk about Koltira, and Koltira's home, and he's hardly given more of himself than a passing mention of city names. That's probably some kind of rude somewhere.

After a moment: ] The architecture of Morroc was nothing spectacular, but beautiful in its way.