#starring: fearlesscxptain

[stageplayhero]

Continued from here | @fearlesscxptain

Arms crossed, Asher watches Mark with narrowed eyes and clear skepticism. Mark never smiles that much when he doesn’t have something planned. For celebrations, as well, but as far as Asher is aware, there is no celebration at hand, current or imminent. No, it’s clearly because Mark has something up his sleeve.

They sigh. Of course he has a plan.

“ … Let me grab my jacket, ” they finally grumble, stepping back into the apartment and leaving the door ajar.

Returning, coat slung over their shoulder, they don’t even spare a look at Mark — they don’t particularly want to see the smug smile that they’re certain has appeared. Occupying themself with locking the door behind them and ensuring they’d pocketed everything they needed, they finally meet Mark with a poker face.

“ You get two hours, and no gloating. ”

Success! The difficult part is over with. Well, fitting everything into two hours may be a little difficult, but he's not concerned about that just yet.

"Gloating? Me? I would never dream of it." Except the smug smile Asher had expected clearly present.

At least it's swept away by genuine excitement, not one bit discouraged by their expression. Mark's seen them play poker before.

"First order of business: cocoa. There's a new café near your apartment building." You have to have a warm drink for a wintery outing. There's a style to follow.

They don't have their skates, but, of course, he didn't ask them to grab their skates. Well, hopefully he can fit retrieving them into the schedule. Telling them now would ruin it!

[blueheartedmayor]

repost don’t reblog, post what you associate with your muse(s); and then tag others!

Tagged by: @jadehowlettthewolf (one day your tag will work...)

Tagging: Lemme see... @briingmayflowers, @videonastycore, @freebirdyance​, @asterius-of-crete​, @splitsuit​, @xshatteredreflectionsx​, @fearlesscxptain​ aaaand whoever else might be curious because I feel like I’ve tagged a lot of people xD (As a side note: for those of you with multiple muses, I only tagged once but you can do it for anyone that takes your fancy. Don’t feel limited! :D )

ANIMAL: Dogs (but also cows)

COLOR(S): Blue, Aquamarine

MONTH: September.

SONG: This has made me consider the idea of giving the playlist for Damien a makeover but... Tightrope (the Peter H.ollens cover), and When All is Said And Done from the Ma.mma M.ia movie come to mind.

NUMBER: Hm... 11.

DAY OR NIGHT: Dawn

PLANT: White carnations.

SMELL: Freshly ground coffee as you walk past the open door of a coffee shop.

GEMSTONE: Clear Quartz.

SEASON: Winter.

PLACE: A quiet park in a busy urban area. For a moment, you cannot hear the hustle and bustle of the world, and the trees fool you into thinking that you are further from the harsh reality than you actually are. But in the moment, it’s a much-needed break.

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Virgo.

ELEMENT(S): Air.

DRINK: A strong brew of coffee, or a bottle of water. He isn’t a man of complicated tastes!

-

Dante under the read-more!

ANIMAL: This is a good question. Maybe cats? Or crows? Dante didn’t have many dealings with animals when he was human or entity.

COLOR(S): Purple, black, white.

MONTH: October

SONG:  Rivers (the a capella version by Epica) and Echoing Again (it’s a good mashup!)

NUMBER: 2

DAY OR NIGHT: Night time, but specifically when the sky is clear and you can only see a few stars overhead.

PLANT: White Roses, or ivy climbing a forgotten building.

SMELL: Hm. A floral scent through the bamboo diffusers. You know it’s there, but it’s so faint you could almost forget about it.

GEMSTONE: Amethyst, Alexandrite

SEASON: Winter

PLACE: A quiet graveyard. No one else wanders the worn paths. A gentle breeze accompanies you. There is a large, dead tree that is ideal to sit under and read. Death may be all you are now, but it doesn’t invalidate the faint sense of tranquillity you feel.

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Virgo with Libra tendencies.

ELEMENT(S): Water, Shadow.

DRINK: Tea brewed from leaves, imbued with a faint floral scent. It isn’t a drink that requires milk or sugar, though the intensity of the flavour various on the ingredients used at a particular moment.

[egotisticle]

@fearlesscxptain​​: ☽ = wandering alone at night .( or : ✮ = stargazing . ) [ hello! ]

♚ --------------------  [ SYMBOL PROMPT.TXT DOES NOT EXIST ] 

     AFTER  a rich profusion of cosmic horror and astronomical anomalies, a lungful of fresh air must have felt like a blessing. gone was the  urgency  of automated emergency responses and the need to remain resilient in the face of adversity; only a  blue velvet  sky laden with stars and the  tranquility  of nature awaited the human on the endless trail ahead. the captain had been freed from the  shackles  of the space vessel, liberated from  culpability  and the  burden  of choice. a respite from the crew members hadn’t been spoken from the other’s lips but such was the nature of a gift. they were at  aphelion  --- the  furthest  point away from all else, the  furthest  point away from reality’s reach.

                          YOU DON’T RECOGNIZE THIS PLACE, NOT YET.

     a wrinkled piece of paper on the ground had attracted the captain’s notice but as the flashlight steadied on the image and a closer look was taken, the picture  abruptly  obfuscated with a  cacophonous  crackle. surroundings stuttered with the unreliability of an aged television and both items were inexplicably  confiscated  without a trace, leaving the captain with only empty air and a  muddled  feeling that neither were meant to exist at all. an adjustment had been made to the ongoing narrative and the location underwent its apposite alteration.

     from between the pine trees did  viscous  shadows crawl closer, kowtowing to an unseen force yet acquiescent to the dirt path’s boundaries. the darkness  pooled  around the human’s position with healthy curiosity but didn’t dare venture closer, not when the rolling breeze carried the echoes of their overseer’s footsteps and  revelatory  ringing became more discernible within the forest’s soundscape. although unseen down the lengthy trail, the source of the noise seemed to draw closer with every passing minute.  nearer  and  nearer  did it sound until the wind felt more like a phantom breath on the captain’s cheek. rustling leaves quieted down and the idle stirring of  nocturnal  animals followed suit. all became impossibly still and after an extended moment passed, the white noise released a humanlike sigh ---- one soon to be joined by a  deeper  voice, one that paved the way for a revelation.

                                                            the captain was no longer alone.

     ❝ ‘ non est ad astra mollis e terris via ’ ❞  words were spoken to the stars above with the  worldly  erudition of a scholar, unblinking stare admiring the evening sky and its constellations before lowering to meet the human’s.  black hole  eyes seized dark blue and a faint smile pulled at the entity’s lips. the quote had been chosen specifically for the captain and after its translation was provided, the being’s rationale became  clear.  ❝  ‘ there is no easy way from the earth to the stars. ’ ❞

     an upturned hand silently invited the captain to walk alongside him as oxfords eased into a  measured  gait, strolling side by side while the human remained on the trail and the entity resided at its edge. from their sublunary vantage point could they safely admire the celestial bodies and constellations, untouched from temporal  abrasions  and induced madness. to some, the view might have been considered  mundane  but to others, ordinariness was a rare commodity. normality had its  value,  particularly to those who had become too closely acquainted with abnormality.      

     ❝  after being pulled in so many different directions, i don’t expect that you’ve had much time to admire the stars. did you  revel in their beauty when you first boarded the ship ?  do you even  remember  what that felt like ? ❞  a hymn of static distantly stirred with the entity’s sigh, expelled in a single harmonized note as the question was held suspended in the air,  ❝ that blissful state of ignorance ---- it didn’t last very long, did it ? if only you knew what awaited you back then.  ❞

     a  layered  laugh cascaded throughout the forest even though the suited being made no such sound, mirthless and hollow as it too assimilated into the white noise and was drowned out. the feigned amusement didn’t sound overly  cruel, merely shrewd ---- the sign of a private joke not yet shared; nonetheless, eye contact and the persistent halved smile ensured that the captain felt involved throughout the conversation.

                        YOU  STILL  DON’T  RECOGNIZE  THIS  PLACE.

    ❝ you won’t experience  exactly  the same feeling here but comparatively, it’s the  closest  you’ll come to reliving that moment. you’re off the edge of the map. you’re  safe  here. enjoy it, take a breath. you may never get another opportunity like this again. ❞

[theauthorlives]

A slightly nervous Aster has left a gift out for a certain god. A small box, wrapped in pastel yellow paper. Within it, is a necklace ! A delicate golden chain, with a sun - shaped pendant hung from it. There’s no note, but the tiny marking of a star atop the box is enough of a symbol.

[ - deity ! aster , @fearlesscxptain ! ]

@fearlesscxptain

-

The box was noticed upon her return. Her husband had already departed, so it was unlikely to be from him as it was left at the door. Why would he put it there? Instead, it must be an offering. The small box was lifted and brought inside where she could unwrap it at the table.

A star marking on the top... Surely that must be a hint that it's from Aster. But why would they drop it off without talking to her? Were they busy? It was not something to dwell on, she decided as she opened the box to reveal the jewellery.

The necklace was beautiful. The gold glimmered in the light, and her eyes were drawn to the elegant pendant that served as the focal point. So much work was put into this to make it truly unique.

"Hm?" Day hummed as she noticed the way it glistened. The sun was not a plain piece of metal. Rather, there was a sheen to it... As though stardust was poured over it before anything could cool down.

The daytime could never be accompanied by the stars, but this would be a perfect alternate. It was said that the sun shone brighter that winter's day when she next emerged to complete her duties.

[multimuse-rp-archived]

@fearlesscxptain asked: [ GAZE ] sender & receiver stargaze [ to Obi - Wan ! ]

The sky was dark, but the stars created a sense of peace. Obi-Wan often liked to gaze up at the sky, just lying on his back and watching the night sky. It brought him a sense of peace — peace and relaxation.

Aster needed relaxation more than almost anyone else Obi-Wan knew. They worked themself to the bone. So, Obi-Wan had brought them out here to (hopefully) ease their mind.

He didn’t feel the need to speak; Aster probably appreciated the silence, anyway. So, Obi-Wan was quiet, just gazing up at the sky, letting his worries wash away with the light breeze that blew across his face.

[timedmortality]

❛   tap .   tap  my  muse  on  the  shoulder  to  garner  their  attention .

[ - @fearlesscxptain ! ]

ETHAN sat down against the front of the control panel, the small crewmate having some sort of advantage as he was out of sight and truly out of the way of the crew.

His hands were busy drawing away at the small clusters of different stars they passed in the invincible II, the soft hum being the main escape for a moment. However, when he felt the tap on his shoulder, he jumped and felt his head collide against the metal of the control panel. The immediate whines of pain escaped as he turned to curse them out, by didn't dare let any words escape when he saw it was the Captain.

“O-Oh hi boss!”

He spoke, scrambling up to his feet and giving a proper salute, his fluster covering his features as his grin held nervousness.

“How are you? I promise if something broke it wasn't me or mark.”

[stageplayhero]

Continued from here | @fearlesscxptain

Damien offers, and Asher looks to him with wide eyes and a few blinks of surprise. Their eyes don’t hold that light anymore. Dull blue, no longer shining like they used to in even the darkest moments.

Absently wringing the handkerchief between their fingers, there’s a delay before Asher communicates anything. Before they can bring themself to sign anything.

“ I … I don’t, no. That … would be really nice. Thank you … ”

Something about it feels wrong. Something about Damien feels wrong. Everything in them begs them to set that aside, but something in their heart won’t buy the whole act.

Damien reassures them, and Asher chokes on a stifled sob. Looking away, they meekly nod. A small gesture, but an affirmation that they heard him. A thanks that he reminded them, that he proved to them that they were there, that he quelled the fear that they had been wrought with since they’d awoken.

Something within them still doesn’t believe him.

“ … I was so scared I’d never see you again. I didn’t even really expect you to be here … ”

… Why are you here, really ?

They accepted the offer. They accepted, and Mark feels lightheaded. Spotlight burning on his neck; lines? What are his lines again? Of course they accepted. Why wouldn’t they?

They have nowhere to go. They just returned from a harrowing experience. And it’s Damien offering.

“You’re welcome, little monster. It’s the least I can do.” His voice may sound fond and reassuring, but he retrieves the cane from the desk nervously. “We’ll see about getting you back on your feet.”

They shouldn’t be on the stage. Not now.

“I… I’d lost hope that I would see you at all. I’m here for the same reason as you.” He sets the cane on the floor and leans against it with a genuine tiredness. “After everything, I didn’t know where else to go. There’s a murderer on the loose, and the city needs me to be here.”

The city needs its mayor. Asher needs their friend. Both will have to make do.

“However, I do think it will survive if we take the rest of the day off. If you’d like, I can help you get settled in the guest room. You deserve to rest.”

[stageplayhero]

Continued from here | @fearlesscxptain

“ Mm. I have. I was beginning to wonder when I’d cross paths with the namesake that puts Celci in an even worse mood than she usually is. It’s a feat, congratulations. ” Dry humour. One of their good methods of humour. “ Putting aside the fact that you happen to be the Head Engineer and everyone on this ship knows who you are. ”

They look back down to their tablet, already mentally moving onto the next thing.

Mark asks, and Asher looks up again. “ … No. ” Their grip tenses slightly around the tablet, and they’re thankful for the thick gloves and present tablet that hide their hands from view. The ‘reality’ doesn’t stretch that far. They can lie, and their lines write it into reality. That’s what Mark does, isn’t it ? “ I think I would have remembered meeting you. ”

The more Mark talks, the stronger the ache in their chest becomes.

“ I’d love to visit, but I’m sure that we both have a lot to get done, Mark. ”

Jokes? They’re joking? They’re probably joking. Whatever part of the old Mark that’s left wants to laugh, only a little less than he wants to cry, and he can’t have either of those things happen.

A sheepish smile. “I guess you’re right. It’s just a little different from knowing me personally.” You do. You know me personally. His expression shifts to a pout. “The feeling with Celci is mutual. No one appreciates my design choices on this ship…”

The windows are important for plot reasons. So. There.

You would think, wouldn’t you? No. Of course not! Of course they haven’t met before. Not that Asher remembers. Not as far as he knows. “Oh, sure. I’m probably mistaken.”

He’s not. It’s them. There’s no one else this could be.

“Right! Right, sorry, everyone’s very busy right now. Be safe when we warp!” He turns to walk away against his own instincts, because there’s no reason for the Head Engineer to spend time chatting with a member of cryo when there’s work to be done.

Maybe it was a hallucination, or the Entity’s trick. Looking back over his shoulder disproves either of those theories. Well, then.

He didn’t bring them here. Something else did, and he needs to find out what.

[stageplayhero]

Asher may have already decorated the manor, but their Christmas quest was not complete with only that. Not at all — the most important part hasn’t even been done !

Luckily for them, they have an in through Benjamin, who lets them inside the manor without much of a question. From there, they can easily leave a small box on the desk in Mark’s study, being sure to leave it in a spot that’s clearly visible. Stealth mission complete, they leave as quietly and quickly as they had arrived.

Within the little box is a thin, folded book. A tiny envelope sits on top. Within the envelope, a note —

Merry Christmas, Mark. Hopefully this isn’t too big to be taken on your next trip. - Asher

The book, able to be held easily by hand, when opened, displays a collection of photographs and news clippings, of napkin doodles and tiny notes, and a final page bearing signatures and messages from the entire group of friends.

Asher’s been collecting to make that for quite a while. The knowledge that Mark would be leaving more frequently for projects merely gave them a reason to finally gift it to him.

[ merry chrysler, mark ! ]

The annual Christmas party at the manor is nearly upon him, and Mark loves organizing it. Truly, he does. But there's only so much he can get done before his energy runs dry and he dramatically collapses from exhaustion, in this case, at the desk in his study.

With his face pressed into his arms, he frowns. There had been something there. Something new. He sits up to puzzle over the package, and discover its contents.

Asher. Of course. They've been on some sort of secret Christmas-ify the manor mission lately, and perhaps he should be more concerned over their ability to sneak in whenever they want, but he isn't, really. Whatever is in this book is clearly more important.

Each little scrap they collected is poured over, allowing him to revisit the memories one by one. He smiles at photos and clippings, and laughs at napkin doodles, surprised that they would have kept them.

It's obvious they poured a lot of care into this gift.

The signatures and messages at the end are even more of a surprise, and if Mark hadn't already taken a long break to look through the book, he would have still spent a decent amount of time simply reading the last page. Asher had given him a small slice of home to take with him wherever he may need it, and with his upcoming projects, he certainly will need it.

Too big? It's just the right size. Thank you, Asher.

[stageplayhero]

❄️ - Playing in the snow

for asher omg —

❄️ - Playing in the snow: Christmas drabbles/starters!

(So uh… It isn’t super super long but long enough that I feel I should put a read more pfft. Have some snow shenanigans >:))

Mark doesn’t know what he had expected, really.

He’d seen the snow gently falling through the window that morning, and even more of it blanketing the grounds of the manor. It had snuck in overnight without any of them noticing.

A certain someone is bound to be eager to get out in the snow immediately, and Mark barely had to pose the question of whether they wanted to go out today. Again, this is Asher - he shouldn’t have expected anything less than a yes and a long time spent outside.

Anyone who sees them both running around in the snow may call them immature, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

They pelt each other with snowballs, of course. It’s the obvious reaction to the season finally granting them snow, and having a friend nearby to throw it at. But they do move onto slightly less destructive activities: like snow angels, and snow men.

The only issue is that their snow men are lacking a crucial detail.

“Be very quiet,” Mark whispers over his shoulder to Asher as they creep around inside the manor. “I swear he has super hearing.”

Their attempts at stealth aren’t impressive, considering they’re tracking snow and slush across the floor, and trying to muffle their laughter. And just as they had hoped - the Chef isn’t currently in the kitchen.

He grabs a handful of carrots and hopes Asher’s done the same before he sprints out of the manor, no longer able to keep his laughter quiet. Now they had everything they need.

“The finishing touch,” he announces gravely, sticking a carrot nose onto one of the snow men. Mark steps back to consider it. No, no… maybe they don’t have everything they need. It’s still missing something.

“Oh Asher?” Mark gives them a mischievous smile. “We may need to borrow somebody’s scarf and hat.”

[stageplayhero]

when Mark goes to his dressing room before his performance, there might be an envelope taped to the mirror. an envelope bearing a simple note, and a yellow chrysanthemum on the surface below.

yellow chrysanthemum. friendship and celebration.

“ Good luck tonight, Mark. I suppose I should say ‘ break a leg ’ ? Not sure. I was never a theatre person. regardless, I’m sure you’ll do well.

I’ll be in the crowd. Spare some time for an old friend afterwards ? — Asher ”

( even after long weeks of barely being able to spare time for a phone call, they’d worked an evening off to see Mark’s opening night. they couldn’t have missed their dear friend’s show ! )

[ - @fearlesscxptain ! ]

The cast and crew are running about as the time for the show grows closer and closer. Opening night; that infectious feeling of nerves and excitement, and the scrambling to fix the one thing that has inevitably gone wrong at the last second. A rip in a costume, an issue with the lighting.

Mark is caught up in the middle of it. He almost doesn’t make it to his dressing room through the slew of people. Rehearsing lines in his head, unconsciously miming smaller versions of the actions to himself.

The mirror has an envelope taped to it. A fan? A friendly member of the crew? Mark slows down from his high enough to gently peel it away, and look it over.

Asher.

Asher made it.

They had been so busy, he hadn’t actually thought-

He brushes his thumb over the chrysanthemum. It will be hard, now, to keep the smile off his face during the show. He’ll be sure to thank them later.

[stageplayhero]

📝 aaaaand one for @fearlesscxptain !

📝association meme!

what color reminds your muse of mine?

"Bluish-purples. Galaxies, stars, that sort of thing." Not too dissimilar from Damien, in that matter.

what song reminds your muse of mine? 

(sleep deprivation by c.hance p.eña)

what scent reminds your muse of mine? 

"Aromatic asters. Wouldn’t that be obvious?"

A sea breeze. The smell of a day at the beach, or out in a boat. Freshness, with a tinge of salt.

what meme reminds your muse of mine? 

(x)

what sound reminds your muse of mine? 

"Shuffling cards." Cards flying through the air. Poker games and laughter. "Skates against ice." The increase of scraping as speed is picked up.

An impassioned argument in a court hearing. The speaker's drive to prove the truth.

what setting reminds your muse of mine? 

"A courtroom. I spent a lot of time in one, after I was arrested. I can't say I understand the appeal of working there."

The garden outside the manor. Nooks and crannies high up on the building that they shouldn’t have been able to reach, but did.

what fashion style reminds your muse of mine? 

"Lately, a captain's uniform. What other fashion style would remind me of them, if not the one associated with their role?" Not something they chose.

Blue suits, blue vests.

what feeling does your muse associate with mine?

"Amusement, curiosity."

Happiness. Loss. Guilt.

what animal does your muse associate with mine?

"A magpie. They're witty little birds. Supposedly they bring good luck, but I wouldn’t go that far."

A magpie is a collector. Collector of skills. Intelligence and resourcefulness.

what holiday does your muse associate with mine?

"It isn't a holiday unless you're a student or such, but summer break."

The end of university classes and exams, a few months of respite. Goofing off at the manor. Talking until the early hours of the morning. A "holiday" from their past, barely remembered, now.

what season does your muse associate with mine?

"Winter." No hesitation, but no elaboration, either.

The ice. The snow. He remembers how they loved it.

[stageplayhero]

Continued from here | @fearlesscxptain

Reaching the lake, Asher smoothly crouches down, already removing their boot to start the process of putting on their skates. There’s no time to waste ! The ice is right there !

“ Oh ? I’ll take that as a compliment. I need to keep it up, if I want to keep beating you, ” they say, snickering. At Mark’s question, their attention turns to the lake. “ It should be. I was here yesterday and it was fine. ”

Yesterday, in their mind. This reality is not theirs. This is a story. A dream, on the brink of corruption to a nightmare.

Asher smiles. “ I doubt it’s changed. It should be safe, unless the weight limit has somehow changed, ” they tease, then shrug it off. “ It’ll be fine, really. Even if it had, the ice would be strong enough. ”

He needs to ask, one of these days, whether the prospect of skating gives them superhuman speed. Mark shakes his head in a play at sorrow. "This is no different than poker night."

Yesterday? It's a normal enough statement, but something about it seems off. Wrong. Fake.

They couldn't have been here yesterday. That's impossible.

Well, if Asher was here, and they say it's safe, then it should be fine! Worries assured, for now, he continues to trade his boots for the skates.

"All right. You're the expert." He looks up enough to smile, jokingly. "But if I fall through, I'm never going to let you hear the end of it."

[stageplayhero]

Continued from here | @fearlesscxptain

“ Mm … I can see it, ” Asher hums, leaning over against Mark’s shoulder as they make a dramatic show of examining the scene he’s framed. A slow nod of approval. Of course, of course. The perfect set for a dramatic scene, indeed.

Haven’t you learned that your choices affect your created reality, Mark ? This world bends to your whims.

They lean away as Mark asks his question, looking over to him with a curious expression.

“ A race ? ”

The brunet smiles, a mischievous glint in their eyes. Without allowing another moment of delay, they turn and start running.

“ I’ll meet you on the ice ! ”

Challenging them to a race ? A race to get to skating faster, no less ? You should have expected nothing different. Maybe you didn’t. Perhaps that is why you challenged them in the first place.

Ripples have been made in the future of this story. Ripples Mark doesn’t see, or wishes not to.

Asher’s expression is familiar. Comforting. Their smile gains one in return, even as they turn to run, and even while Mark remains stationary.

Their excitement is expected. It’s hoped for.

He runs towards the lake a moment later, too long after they did to beat them, but for once he doesn’t feel the need to win. This outing is dreamlike. Floating strands that he can’t reach out and grasp.

Perhaps he doesn’t want to.

Slowing down near the makeshift finish line, he laughs. “You take your races seriously. And your skating. I’m not surprised.” It’s time to sit down and get his skates on. A passing concern, a glance back to the lake. “The ice is frozen enough, right?”

[stageplayhero]

@fearlesscxptain asked:

Asher — the real Asher — died a long time ago.

Mark would know. He was there.

They were rewritten, brought back, broken and repaired into something new … but not the same anymore. The old Asher has long since been tossed aside and lost to the Void.

In one way, they live again; if ‘live’ is a fitting word for it.

Mark’s own reality shapes and bends to his thoughts and wills. If he wills a plot device into existence, it works itself into the story. If he requires something, he reaches out for it and it appears.

If a friend is what he wishes for, then they’re brought into existence, as well.

Old boots crunch against the snow, approaching Mark from behind. The snow. The weather they used to love so dearly. He’d wondered what it would be like for them to see the picturesque scene before him. Footsteps cease upon reaching Mark, and a partially gloved hand lightly bumps his arm.

“ You’re burning time if you’re just going to stand there waiting for me. You know I’ll catch up to you. ”

[ a new brand of ghost from the past has arrived :’) @fearlesscxptain is back ! ]

The lake sits frozen and still ahead. Sunlight makes the ice and snow glitter, and also makes Mark pause in the middle of his walk. Time, much like the water all around him, seems to freeze. He watches the air become cloudy where he breathes.

They would have loved this.

... It's too quiet.

The footsteps don't startle him, and he turns at their touch, smiling brightly. Slipping easily into the scene and his role.

"Oh, come on, there's plenty of time. I can stop to enjoy the view." They used to... No. They do get excited over sights like this. "It's beautiful. It would make a wonderful set, actually." Fingers raise to frame the lake like a camera lens. "I can see it now: our intrepid hero running across the ice as someone close to them falls through."

Now, why does that sound familiar? Mark can't remember. There's a lot he isn't remembering.

He holds up a pair of skates he hadn't possessed earlier. "But, if you're worried about burning time, I'll race you down there."

[stageplayhero]

A gift of similar wrapping might have already been left behind before, but that won’t stop this gift - deliverer.

A small box once again sits out for Mark, but this time it’s at the breakfast table, next to his already - made breakfast. Now, the breakfast wasn’t their doing, but they might as well use the opportunity to pair it together !

The box is considerably smaller than the one before it, and sits next to Mark’s glass. Hanging upon it, a little note that reads Happy Birthday, Mark !

Mark has received a new stylish scarf, in similar style to his white ascot ! This time, in red ! Don’t ask how they managed to get their hands on it, it doesn’t matter.

[ Happy Birthday, from Asher ! ]

It might be time for me to have a talk with Benjamin.

There’s no real malice behind the thought, or even annoyance, of course. Asher is always welcome to the manor. Even if they use their abilities for secretly redecorating, and delivering gifts.

One of these days he’ll have to catch them and properly thank them.

The Chef had prepared quite an elaborate breakfast for Mark’s birthday, not willing to let the opportunity go to waste. He takes a drink from his glass, picking up the box at the same time. Clearly not the Chef - that’s Asher’s writing.

And, clearly, Asher knows him and his fashion preferences very well. A scarf! A stylish, red scarf! Breakfast is forgotten for a moment so that Mark can try it on. This is now his top priority.

He does wonder where they got it from, but their newfound reputation as the secret manor visit spy makes him doubt he’ll get an answer. Oh, well. He’ll give them his heartfelt thanks instead.