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peacockstop2025-09-15 09:00 pm
goldmods) wrote in peacockstop2025-09-15 09:00 pm
Entry tags:
TDM 011
【 Thank you for choosing the Golden Peacock, 5-star resort and casino. You are currently registered as a WILDCARD in our system.
We are thrilled to announce that the Golden Peacock will be embracing autumn with a special outing. Current and new guests are invited to join us for a refreshing outdoor experience where participants can unplug, unwind, and connect with nature. During this time, all Watches will be disabled to the most basic functions (texting, calls, checking chip account) in order to encourage guests to disconnect.
Please look forward to two weeks of finding yourself amongst the trees. We hope you enjoy your stay, and have a fan-CAMP-stic time. 】
CAMPING
GETTING OFF THE GRID
As the resort moves into what it claims is autumn, the days grow shorter. The projected sun in the Vale sets in the afternoon, after which a faint chill falls. Then there’s the most excessive transformation of all – a portion of the Vale has transformed into a campground complete with a scenic lake, seemingly overnight. Statues nearby have been dressed up with flannel jackets and suspenders. Folksy banjo fills the air without any discernible source.
A section of the campgrounds have been reserved for tents. These tents vary in size, shape, and supplies. All tents, regardless of quality, are supplied with sex toys and lube. Staff and long-standing guests all agree — pretending to live in the wilderness and 'rough it' for a while is thrilling. This is what the peasants feel like all the time!
A section of the campgrounds have been reserved for tents. These tents vary in size, shape, and supplies. All tents, regardless of quality, are supplied with sex toys and lube. Staff and long-standing guests all agree — pretending to live in the wilderness and 'rough it' for a while is thrilling. This is what the peasants feel like all the time!
HOME ON THE RANGE
Welcome to the Peacock Campgrounds! Nicknamed the Stomping Grounds by long-standing guests. Rustic and right off a sparkling lake, guests will find everything they need to live in the wilderness. Staff have expertly set up fire pits, benches, hammocks, and a wooden shed to act as a tool depository. There's even an outhouse, which is a real novelty to many of the long-standing guests. Do they just... squat over that hole and do their business? How wild!
Unlike previous resort-sponsored excursions, guests are expected to manage without the help of staff. That pile of wood won't be replenished once used; guests will have to go chop down trees and split their own. Food won't magically appear in their tents regardless of rank. Camping is all about living off the land. Though staff make themselves scarce to make the experience feel real, they lurk in the shadows, discreetly providing necessary tools and fixing broken equipment so guests won't struggle too much. It isn't fun if it's real hardship, after all!
Unlike previous resort-sponsored excursions, guests are expected to manage without the help of staff. That pile of wood won't be replenished once used; guests will have to go chop down trees and split their own. Food won't magically appear in their tents regardless of rank. Camping is all about living off the land. Though staff make themselves scarce to make the experience feel real, they lurk in the shadows, discreetly providing necessary tools and fixing broken equipment so guests won't struggle too much. It isn't fun if it's real hardship, after all!
ACTIVITIES
TWO WEEKS OF ROUGHING IT
Camping can't be all about survival. Where's the fun in that? Before 'leaving', the staff arrange activities and events for guests to enjoy. A wooden bulletin board outlines times for group hikes, camping experiences, and wilderness delights. Adirondack chairs line the edge of the lake and a few tire swings hang over the water, tied to strong tree branches. For the first week and a half the weather is pleasant and sunny. Perfect for camping.
At night, acoustic guitars and other wooden instruments come out so that guests can make music around the bonfire. Projected stars dapple the night sky, forming various constellations sourced from guest worlds. The moon enters a different phase each night, shining a gentle silver across the campgrounds. Why not pull your sweetheart in and cuddle beneath the night sky? It's so romantic.
At night, acoustic guitars and other wooden instruments come out so that guests can make music around the bonfire. Projected stars dapple the night sky, forming various constellations sourced from guest worlds. The moon enters a different phase each night, shining a gentle silver across the campgrounds. Why not pull your sweetheart in and cuddle beneath the night sky? It's so romantic.
HOWLING
CALL OF THE WILD
Temperatures drop drastically at night as the camping excursion nears its end. Nights become so chilly that morning dew frosts over, crunching beneath guest feet. Every day the light and its warmth set a little bit earlier. Staff remain elusive and do not provide warmer blankets or clothes for guests, leaving them to cuddle for warmth or find other ways to sleep comfortably during nightly cold snaps.
The moon hits its apex on the final night of camping. Unlike the other nights, this full moon shines blood red. The Vale stills under this ominous sign, silent. Snowflakes begins to fall, spreading an endless clean sheet across the campgrounds. That reflected pink hue is inescapable.
The moon hits its apex on the final night of camping. Unlike the other nights, this full moon shines blood red. The Vale stills under this ominous sign, silent. Snowflakes begins to fall, spreading an endless clean sheet across the campgrounds. That reflected pink hue is inescapable.
OOC NOTES
▶ BLANKET CW: altered states; eyes (descriptions only, incl. eye injury); exhibitionism; hunting (incl. hunting fantasy creatures); orgies; public sex; survival; temperature play; tentacles; transformation; violence
▶ All characters on the TDM are WILDCARDS, which means they have not yet been assigned a card value. Suits will not manifest until characters are accepted into the game.
▶ All TDMs are game canon. This TDM acts as the game's September event. Camping will ICly begin September 15th and end October 3rd.
▶ Current characters may top level on the TDM. Any current characters posting to the TDM should note they are current in their subject header.
▶ The top level directory is for new characters only. We want to make sure new characters are prioritized and receive attention! If you would be interested in a game invitation, you can note that in your comment header.
▶ Smut threads that take place on this TDM can be used for rewards. If both parties in the smut thread join the game, you may retroactively apply the character's initial card values to your 52 bank. If one character does not join the game the thread will not be applicable toward rewards (as that character would not have a card value). The character that does join would still receive a small payout for the encounter. Hopefully it was a fun thread regardless!
▶ We ask you to kindly add content warnings to your threads as appropriate.
▶ If you do not currently have permissions and kinks listed in your character’s journal we suggest leaving a note in your top level of any limits or boundaries for other players to reference.
▶ All characters on the TDM are WILDCARDS, which means they have not yet been assigned a card value. Suits will not manifest until characters are accepted into the game.
▶ All TDMs are game canon. This TDM acts as the game's September event. Camping will ICly begin September 15th and end October 3rd.
▶ Current characters may top level on the TDM. Any current characters posting to the TDM should note they are current in their subject header.
▶ The top level directory is for new characters only. We want to make sure new characters are prioritized and receive attention! If you would be interested in a game invitation, you can note that in your comment header.
▶ Smut threads that take place on this TDM can be used for rewards. If both parties in the smut thread join the game, you may retroactively apply the character's initial card values to your 52 bank. If one character does not join the game the thread will not be applicable toward rewards (as that character would not have a card value). The character that does join would still receive a small payout for the encounter. Hopefully it was a fun thread regardless!
▶ We ask you to kindly add content warnings to your threads as appropriate.
▶ If you do not currently have permissions and kinks listed in your character’s journal we suggest leaving a note in your top level of any limits or boundaries for other players to reference.
no subject
He never loses his edge. ]
About as long, [ Phainon answers. His arm lifts from his bent knee, starting to reach across his body, as he seeks to reassure him. ]
I see your meaning, [ his hand falls on Mydei's shoulder, ] And I owe you an apology. Though we've clashed countless times, I should not have laid a hand on you in anger.
[ The hand resting on his shoulder squeezes it, punctuating his sincerity. His thumb shifts. ]
I'm sorry, Mydei.
[ He's slower than he'd like in retracting that contact, selfishly reluctant to relinquish his hold. For as long as he's known him - for the many versions of him that Phainon has encountered, countless times - Phainon still cannot say he understands Mydei's inner workings, but he knows him well enough to guess that Mydeimos takes everything at face value, and this would be no different.
Phainon should put this to rest. His arm retreats across his body to rest once more on his bent knee, a sigh caving his chest. ] What I meant to fight back wasn't you, but... my regret.
[ He lifts his head and with it, his tone, although split by a crack of sentimentality. ] Given the choice, the chance, I would have preferred a happier reunion. But I'll take what I can get!
no subject
Anger? [ When? Not in Okhema, there hadn't been time for that. Not after the trial, or during their adventure in Castrum Kremnos. So... here? Logically, it's the only place that makes sense.
Mydei's fist raises toward his chin, his eyes straying to the hand squeezing his shoulder in comfort. He watches Phainon's thumb as it shifts, gliding across the bright red of one of his tattoos. Here. It takes longer for Phainon's hand to retract than it does for him to recognize what Phainon means, and when he does... The corners of his lips curve, the line of his frown subtle.
The shove?
That isn't what it felt like at the time. Bewildered as he was, he hasn't forgotten the sight of the other man. How his brilliant blue and honey eyes turned from his gaze, hiding beneath a veil of white. How his hands pressed at him, forceful and rough, but his feet closed any distance gained. How at the end, his efforts tapered... his hand pushing but without sincerity, as if what he wanted was to pull, not shove. That—was anger?
Mydei's skin prickles, starting at the tip of his scalp and spreading past the back of his neck. The sensation overwhelms, and as Phainon continues he can't help but recall the shift of Phainon's thumb to his shoulder, though at first he can't put to words why. ]
...I almost made a mistake. [ He breathes, his voice impossibly quiet—and... leaden with reproach. Unfortunately for him, his held breath isn't the only sign of his shame. Warmth gathers in his face, reddening the tips of his ears as his embarrassment builds, more realizations slowly washing over him.
When he pushed Phainon back, when he nearly pulled him into his arms. That... would have been a mistake. His stomach churns, unsettled by his misstep. No wonder Phainon pulled away as quickly as he had, Mydei hadn't thought... Well, it doesn't matter. His eyes close and he exhales, slow and steady. In the end, he hadn't embraced Phainon, hadn't made things worse by bringing him closer in a fit of uncertainty. The distance Phainon gained was purely motivated by the berries, throwing the both of them off.
Mydei means to sit up, only to find he already has. His head shakes from side to side before he tips it back. ]
It isn't like you to be so coy when you want to fight, Phainon. Those berries must have done a bigger number on you than I thought. [ Dispelling his disquiet, Mydei rises to his feet and drops a hand onto his hip. ]
A happier reunion is made, not given. Let me find something for you to eat to settle your stomach once and for all. After getting rid of those accursed berries, you must be hungry.
[ Food will do the both of them good, anyway. After all, what's better than sharing a meal together? ]
no subject
Phainon's eyebrows lift. Did Mydei say something? It's also possible that this was the sort of thing - such as a personal reminder, or another comment - unintended to be heard. Curious, he only tips his head, surreptitiously scrutinizing Mydei's pensive expression.
Except what he sees isn't what he expects to find there. If anything, instead of reassured, Mydei looks... - maybe not agitated, exactly, but he recognizes the dusting of pink on the tips of his ears. He's-- flustered?
As Mydei shakes his head, Phainon's gaze retreats, searching the floor to the opposite side, his brow creasing. His distraction doesn't last; Mydei stands, and Phainon lifts his head to track his movements. Out of respect for him, Phainon doesn't press - he doesn't know what about his explanation prompted that reaction, but he'd rather spare his dignity than do him the dishonor and disrespect of wounding his pride.
Phainon pushes himself to his feet, spreading a palm over his own chest as his eyebrows arch into his damp fringe. ] What's this?
Further blessings? I could get used to the perks of being a "Companion of Strife"!
[ Standing must have reminded his stomach of its emptiness, because the snarl it emits prompts him to drop that hand to his middle with a lopsided smile. ] Haha, uh... I don't suppose you've come upon a surprise windfall of provisions? [ He had to forage for a reason! ]
no subject
For now, Mydei's content to let his comment go unnoticed, and just as content to forget his earlier embarrassment. Let it remain in the past, even if "past" in this case amounts to scarcely more than a minute ago. ]
Use your head. Obviously, I mean to forage for supplies. [ A task he's much better equipped for, given Phainon's earlier blunder. And, yes. His tone makes his opinion on this exceptionally clear. ]
I saw mushrooms in your bag, so I'll make that the foundation of my dish. Wait here, I'll return when I've made something worth eating.
[ In fairness, he isn't going to be horribly picky about what he puts in his soup. And in fairness, no matter what he manages to find? It'll probably be tasty. Just, you know, it might also have a surprise aphrodisiac in it. ]
... with a lil timeskip
I'm not one to remain idle while you do all the work. I'll catch us some fish. [ He playfully knocks his shoulder into Mydei's on his way past him, turning around to flip his hand in a wave-salute as he backs out of the tent. ] We'll see who returns first with the spoils of our efforts.
(Later, at sunset...)
[ Something smells appetizing enough to make his mouth flood, and he needs only spy that red-tinged mane of blond hair to know the source. Phainon returns triumphant from his fishing expedition, a couple of fat fish hanging motionlessly from a stick piercing their gills, already gutted and cleaned as well as one could manage without a blade.
He is... absolutely soaked. But no longer out of breath! ]
I don't think I need to warn you, Mydeimos, against swimming in the lake.
[ Phainon lifts the carrying stick and its fishy prizes with a wry look that gives way to a triumphant smile. Look! He brought back dinner! Don't ask him what it cost, he's busy compartmentalizing his harrowing battle. Look! Fish!! Has Mydei ever caught any this big, he thinks not! ]
But just in case I do... don't.
no subject
Naturally, that will be me.
[ Fishing is a battle of attrition. It tests the limits of the fisherman, pitting their patience against the nature of the fish. Whether it bites can be decided by whim or by chance, not necessarily hunger, so when all Mydei has to do is go around foraging as Phainon whiles away his time, watching his reflection in the water... Well, of course he's going to win.
Match already decided (as far as he's concerned), they part. Mydei spends the better part of their time alone meticulously gathering fruits, vegetables, and whatever else seems of interest. There's a surprising variety of vegetation here, all waiting to be picked. He barely has to root through the earth as he walks through the forest, though he still does to find a few roots, wild garlic, and wild onions—all integral to a good soup. Of course, it doesn't necessarily have to be good.
Sustenance is sustenance, but when there's an abundance of spices and flavors? He might as well aim for something worth eating.
By the time Mydei returns to his tent with his gains, he has a decent collection—which includes everything he needs to cook, including a long blue cloth hastily fashioned into an apron. Though it may not seem it given the variety of vegetation, he tried to be discerning as he foraged. Anything he recognized as toxic he left behind, and anything dubious? The same, albeit after several minutes of consideration. Naturally, he left every berry on its bush, if only to avoid tempting fate. He peels, chops, minces, and makes use of fresh water—another foundation of a good soup—and staggers what he puts in, when to best highlight each ingredient's individual flavor.
The aim is a mushroom soup, as he suggested before. Something easy on the stomach but rich and full of protein, which should be enough to fill even Phainon's stomach. Mixed in is the garlic, the onions, some greens, and, mostly for himself, some thinly sliced apples to bring a hint of sweetness to the entire thing. Other ingredients, like the spices he'd picked and the hazelnut, are thrown in for flavor.
As for what he's working on when Phainon finally comes back... That would be an apple glaze for the fish, because while roasting it would be fine? He might as well put in more effort.
He's about to open his mouth and comment on his overwhelming victory, but the sight of Phainon dripping wet in only a scanty flannel robe makes his mouth snap shut. It takes him a moment to recover from the image, and even longer for his skin to stop tingling. ]
What happened? [ He wasn't planning on taking a swim, not anytime soon. Or... anytime after that. In fact, if he can avoid the lake altogether, he will. It isn't like he can't take a wet cloth to his skin, if need be.
However, it's one thing to avoid it of his own volition. It's another to be told to, as if he's some child that needs to be told to avoid a current. ]
hdu make me hungry irl
Phainon almost hesitates to name it, the warmth of this tiny, feeble spark of a feeling. Was contentment... always like this? So simple? So... accessible?
Hold the teleslate, is Mydei wearing an apron? It's less this than the fact that the color - a very different look on him, whose
half-nakedconspicuous body is usually garbed in black, red, and lustrous gold - is so striking against the fire of his eyes, the red-tipped gold of his hair.It's a good look.
Phainon is caught smiling
foolishlyat him for a moment, before his question prompts a lift of his eyebrows, the universal (nonverbal) hm? Oh, right! Right.The lake. The handsy lake monster.
He has the weirdest feeling that he actually hurt that creature's feelings, rejecting its dubiously well-intended advances as firmly and decisively as he had.
LoveLife is tough even for monsters, huh.There's no way he's giving Mydeimos, of all people, that play-by-play. ]
Nothing of consequence, just a friendly warning. -Here!
[ If that had been Mydeimos... Phainon might shudder to speculate. He's aware enough that Mydei and deep water don't really mix. And while it didn't seem to stop either of them from their daily routine of Phainon tracking Mydeimos down and together heading to the baths at Marmoreal Palace, he can guess at how deep his unhappiness would go if some tentacled creature tried to drag him into the depths.
So, if it hadn't been him, there might not be a lake left standing. As Phainon pushes the stick at the Kremnoan warrior (with the two cleaned fish hanging from either end), he leans past him, hoping to snatch the spoon from the pot to sneak a taste.
He might burn his tongue or get cockblocked before he can manage it; there's ample time to stop him on the way, of course, but it smells so good! He's got to try. ] Regretfully, I must concede victory to you, this time. [ There's a slight dip to his voice at the end, just a little disappointed in his performance.
If nothing else, the brief field trip seemed to have done him some good. ]
meanwhile clutching my chest, phainon, bro.....
The thrum perpetually sounding in his chest quiets, awed by the sincerity of Phainon's smile. Mydei's expression softens in turn, but it isn't long before his face turns back to the pot. He listens, but mostly attends the broth, stirring it with a wooden spoon.
A friendly warning. Mydei snorts, resolving to head to the lake later to see exactly what Phainon faced. All he knows is, there's no way it's "nothing of consequence." Not if Phainon came back like that, dripping wet in his already immodest lounge wear. ...Speaking of, he'll have to do something about that.
Only half-attentive, he takes the line of fish in one hand—and barely a few seconds later, his other hand rises up to grab the air near his shoulder. Only, what his fingers meet isn't air, but a solid jaw. He blinks, looking back to stare quizzically that at the face hovering behind him.
After a second, his arched brow drifts down, as if to say, "Who taught you to eat straight from the pot?" ]
Blow on it first. [ ...They're the only ones eating from it, anyway. Besides, Phainon's hungry.
His shoulder bumps Phainon, not quite in reproach but not necessarily affection either, and he abandons the wooden spoon. The soup is basically done anyway, so it should be fine to eat. Leaving the rest of it to Phainon, he turns his attention to the fish. ] Hmph. I said it from the start, this victory was always going to be mine. However, it seems you ran into some... complications, so, I'll show you leniency. Besides, such an easy victory would only tarnish the name of Strife.
Let's decide the real winner tomorrow.
no subject
Phainon's already reaching for that wooden spoon, now that Mydei's hands are preoccupied (or well on their way), leaning so close that he's one wobble from brushing up against the man and giving himself away. Neither of them, clearly, expects Mydei's other hand to catch Phainon's jaw like it does. Mydei's burnished eyes stare at Phainon, baffled, and the white-haired man can only lift his brows, grinning, as if caught red-handed.
Not an inaccurate description of this theft in process, actually.
Mydei's arched brow grants him another reminder. Audata's voice rises, distant and chiding, in the confines of his own skull. 'I taught you better than that, Khaslana! Now wash up after your father-'
He twists his eyes away, softly laughing off the jostling of Mydei's shoulder. As bidden, he blows at the steam rising from the spoon, the tantalizing scent even more mouth-watering now that he's this close to a taste. Mydei's speaking, and his attention is wrenched away from the soup, Mydei's grip still somewhat squashing one cheek. He sees what the Kremnoan is doing - this leniency is a consolation prize, dressed so as to preserve his pride - and he can't complain. Rather, his eyes light up. ]
I'm holding you to that! [ he replies hurriedly, before hastening to his delayed taste of soup. For something he'd thrown together not terribly long ago... it has a surprising depth and complexity of flavor.
Excuse the gratified noise he makes, while he wags the spoon in his hand, trying to nod into Mydei's grasp with his eyes closed. ]
Incredible... [ And in case he thought that compliment was going to be paid gratis... ] Who would have thought that all those missing words in the Kremnoan dictionary had been to save slate space for recipes?
no subject
Mydei's thumb and ring finger squish into Phainon's cheek, forcing them to puff and bloat like a blowfish. There are plenty of words in his people's dictionary, thank you! Including ones for gratitude, a thing that Phainon seems to be sorely lacking in. ]
Use your brain. [ Mydei's hand draws away, releasing Phainon's jaw so he can indignantly cross his arms instead. ] How could a meal foraged from this strange place have a recipe?
[ Much less one from Kremnos. Not that the vegetables are all that unusual. Everything he tested himself tasted the same as back home, but that isn't the point. The point is, there's clearly something unusual about the produce here.
Mydei drifts away, gesturing to the fish and the glaze. ]
Finish the rest. Here. [ He has something else he wants to do, as evidenced by the way he eyes that sad, drippy little robe. Without waiting for a question, or even a protest, Mydei unties his apron and passes it over to Phainon. Blue is more his color, anyway. ]
no subject
This time, the thought - that he missed this - doesn’t skewer the warmth with the cold arrow of guilt. It might not miss next time, but for now, he can have this laughter bubbling up from the kind warmth in the cindered hollow of his breast. ]
Leaving already? [ he teases, though he’s already slipping the protective cloth over his body once he’s set down the spoon. Mydeimos is planning on busying himself with something else, he predicts, so he needlessly shooes him from the vicinity of the bubbling soup and fresh fish.
The fish aren’t large, but they’re plump and the fat on them will make a tasty addition with a bit of salt.
But after rubbing an herb left behind with his fingers and inhaling its savory scent, he decides to stuff the cavity of each fish with them before placing the skewered fish by the shimmering coals.
Whenever Mydei finishes with whatever he’s set off to do, he’ll find Phainon squatting by the fire, waving at the coals with a broad leaf. The skewered fish are browned and crispy on one side, the other roasting in the heat that has his pale hair sticking to his face on beads of sweat.
The aroma of roasted fish is both buttery and smoky, with a touch of green fragrance from the herbs. Together with the earthy aroma of the mushroom soup, it’s little wonder that Phainon’s stomach is rumbling. ]
You know, if only Oronyx’s Miracle could speed up things like this, I might consider joining the priesthood.
no subject
Mydei waves the white-haired man off, more as a farewell than dismissal, and makes his way into his tent. The same assortment of fabric rolls, hemp, thread, and other materials he'd used to fashion his skirt remain exactly where he'd left them, neatly stored and barely touched. He went for something simple for himself. A length of wine red fabric cut and wrapped around his waist, fitted with a few buttons to keep it fastened. However, with the way Phainon's always running around? He might require something a little more complicated.
Pants would be best, but without measuring (and he doesn't mean to measure anything), it would be too troublesome. So he'll make do with something else. A skirt with a few buttons attached, then a cloth to throw over his shoulder, attached by—yes, more buttons. He spends several minutes fussing with it, sticking on maybe a few too many buttons as he tries to guess Phainon's general size (and maybe a few out of frustration), and the end result is...
...It's wearable.
Grunting, Mydei folds the whole thing up and storms out of his tent. The first thing that assails him is the earthy aroma of his soup, but the second? The smoky fragrance of fish, perfectly mixed with spices and herbs.
Herbs.
Phainon didn't use his glaze. That was supposed to be a treat—
...Nevermind. Clearing his throat to sweep away his disappointment, he pads over, holding up the blue thing he crafted for Phainon to take and figure out on his own. ]
Oh? You may have the generosity of a priest, but you lack their commitment. I've heard some of them are so devoted, they even starve themselves in Oronyx's honor. [ And after a, perhaps somewhat sulky glance at the fish, he adds: ] Besides, since when did you have a talent for Oronyx's blessing?
no subject
Oh, that's a more thorough answer than he was expecting. Is Mydeimos-?
Besides, since when did you have a talent for Oronyx's blessing?
Phainon's otherwise steady fanning skips a beat. Anyone who underestimates the last King of Kremnos does so at their own peril. The stakes of this revelation are not so high, and it's one that he has encountered before. That knowledge does not relieve Phainon of this cold, creeping dread, that he's starting to see the end of this warm and solitary light, struggling like a candle flame in a dark and drafty room.
What does it matter, if he grasps it tighter? ]
It's been a long journey, [ he explains brightly, lifting his head, ] I managed to pick up a few tricks along the way.
Where did you go- hm? [ His eyes snag on the bundle. ] What's this?
[ The heat should sting, as Phainon plucks the stems of the skewers from the ashes and brings two roasted fish out from under the soup pot, a smudge of soot on one cheek from when he'd pushed at the sweat the fire's heat had beaded on his skin. He scarcely registers it, instead sparing the next task a glance when the majority of his attention has strayed to the bundle Mydei has brought with him.
He drags each skewer through the sweet glaze, turns each over, and rests them across what remains, then takes the cloth from the Kremnoan. As he does, the bundle unravels, and surprise overtakes his expression at once. ]
I'm speechless. [ And, true to form, manages to prattle on anyway. ] Did you... Did you make this? And put it together in the time it took to roast two fish?
[ Wait, no, he can't be too openly impressed. Even if his body language is telling an entirely different story, by pawing loose the apron in one hand and doffing it so he can relinquish the apron to the
bettercook with the ultimate intent to put it on. ] Are Kremnoans really so industrious outside of combat, or is this a secret hobby of yours?[ It feels a shame to put it on without at least cleaning himself off in a bath, but... he went past that earlier and there was some activity involved that had discouraged him from the idea immediately. ]
no subject
Considering how long it's been since they met one another, he'll leave it be. It isn't as if there's no explanation, anyway. For all he knows, Phainon's been hiding this talent all along. Why, he can't fathom, but it's as likely as anything. For now, Mydei strolls closer to Phainon, nodding slowly in approval once he sees the other man using his glaze.
Good. He—well, he didn't need it. These herbs, spices, and seasonings are all luxuries, in the end. Things they don't need, but will warm their hearts rather than simply filling their bellies. But he can't say he's unhappy with the development, particularly given his disappointment a second ago. Whatever signs remained of it have already vanished, replaced by the tantalizing promise of something sweet on his tongue. ]
I only sewed on a few buttons. [ And vaguely wore it to figure out where to place them, but that isn't important. ]
I'd call it more a necessity than hobby. When fabric tears and cuts, it must be mended. Going into battle with holes in your clothing risks it tearing further, which could become a liability on the battlefield.
no subject
It fits better than he'd expected.
Phainon might not have the fashion sense of his peers, and this doesn't hold a candle to Lady Goldweaver's fine needlework, but he knows it to be sturdy and reliable now that it's on. His hands push down over the fabric, his fingers rubbing over one of the buttons, while he thoughtfully gazes at Mydei's profile.
How long has it been since he was given a gift from a friend? Worn something new? On the one hand, he knows it hasn't been long. On the other, the merciless march of time has carved a bloody chasm between now and a long-lost, but infinitely kinder past.
Well... that won't do, he has to swallow the lump in his throat if he wants to fill that silence. ]
That's pragmatic, [ Phainon huffs mirthlessly, and steps further from the heat of the fire, ] Hold on. Don't start without me!
[ Under the guise of shucking off the wet robe and finding somewhere to let that pathetically abused bit of flannel dry off, he wrestles with sentimentality until he's sure his voice won't tell on him, and returns with a pair of bowls hanging from the fingers of one hand, still admiring what is undoubtedly both more comfortable and modest (which is not saying much). ]
Mydei - I found a few bowls back there. Were you saving these?
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Dutifully, he waits for Phainon by the pot, his ear perked as he listens to the rustle of fabric from somewhere behind him. He only turns when he hears Phainon's voice, suddenly much closer than he expected it to be. Louder, too.
Who said he was planning on eating anything? He only came closer to — you know, take in the aroma. ]
Just who are you accusing of starting first? [ He asks, voice completely dry. Seriously, he wasn't the one who stole a spoon the second it was set down, or the one who came stumbling in like a hungry bear. ]
In any case, no. [ He assumes Phainon's asking if he was saving them for something special. Which, well, no. They're bowls. ] We could eat straight from the pot, but using bowls is a more dignified solution.
This way I won't have to fend off your spoon every time I take a bite. Knowing you, you'd make a competition out of how many times you manage to slap my spoon out of my hands.
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If you insist, I still could.
[ A toothless threat; Phainon is much too hungry to let even a pointless competition over eating utensils get in the way. He hands off one bowl (without the fake-out), and takes up the spoon in his free hand to begin filling them. He starts with Mydei's, stirring up whatever has settled to the bottom of the pot.
The splendid sunset colors splashed across the artificial sky are starting to cool to purples and blues, and with it, the temperature begins to drop. Sparing the horizon a glance, Phainon's gaze lingers there at that false miracle, before he resumes doling out the soup. ]
It's cooling down. [ Genius. Did he just figure that out?
Now working on his own bowl, Phainon continues his train of thought. ] I'll bring over a few chairs. The fire's right here, might as well enjoy it.
[ Sure, they could take their bowls and fish-on-a-stick and retreat to their tents, but Phainon isn't quite ready to go his own way yet, and as the night gathers its dark train around itself, so returns the illogical idea that he might disappear if he doesn't keep an eye on him. Nonsense.
Leaving his own bowl by the pot, there are a few camp chairs within eyeshot that he intends to drag over to the campfire. Unfolding it, he plants it behind Mydei, ] Try to keep this one intact, this time.