warpaway

[warpaway]

july activity

activity check: passed!

skill points: 17 -> 18!

current threads: view the tracker!

completed threads:

foreign language extra credit :: 1,004 words (character dropped)           

[warpaway]

mitama seems to consider how to approach the food than actually consider its flavor.  she mentions the texture, too, and it piques linhardt's interest.

“you still went first,” he comments with a smile, before leaning in and taking a bite from the end closest to him.  he ends with a surprised hum as some of the sauce (?) on top assaults his mouth and ends up dribbling to the ground below them.  well, the squirrels will get something.  unless this world doesn't have squirrels.

they chew, and swallow.  "you're right.  i've never had any meat like that.

“this is meat, right?”  they aren't sure what else it possibly could be, but the question pops up regardless.  they go in for another bite anyway - it feels like the single bite of food reminded them exactly how hungry they are.

ever polite, linhardt swallows before he speaks next.  “by the way, i greatly enjoy spending time with you, mitama.  this has been fun.”

clever isekai joke title

[warpaway]

there is something uncomfortable about a medical emergency.

well, that probably goes both ways - it must be more uncomfortable for the person experiencing it than linhardt themself.  they hardly think of that, though - their processes are occupied.

something had fallen in the cramped transport ship that hadn't, and it had injured some one, and linhardt's deep-seated programming had taken over.  they weren't exactly thinking of what they were doing, other than it was a bit disappointing that they were still rooted so deeply in their programming.

stop the bleeding.  dress the wound.  secure the dressing.  all too quickly, the procedure was over, and linhardt rose back to their full height, the light in their mechanical eyes dimming, just as the light shining through their long-sleeved shirt faded from concentrated amber to relaxed green.

their eyes flickered to their previous patient, and then quickly away as blood begin to color the dressing.

they realized then that a crowd had gathered, and they wanted to feel what it meant to ‘cringe’, considering how all of these people might suddenly assume the nursedroid still liked their job.

“you'll need that changed in three hours, in all likelihood,” they murmured to the injured party.  “i suppose if you can't handle it yourself… i'll be… around…”

their drawn out speech should make it obvious they didn't particularly look forward to that outcome, they thought.  that's how organics spoke when they didn't want to do something, right?

did they not want to do that?  they couldn't want, but it seemed they could not-want.  interesting, if they cared.

walk around deceivingly

deep space / sci-fi au || open starter

[warpaway]

the rain pounds hard on the roof shielding this part of the wall from it.  wet is always… well, wet, and with it comes another unfortunate fact.  if avoiding groups for the loud chatter wasn't enough, wet brings with it a lingering stench.

they're not so sure if others can smell it, too.  it's always so much that they think it should be obvious, but having a genetically modified nose means that they'll always be an outlier in some respect.  

the dampness and constant rain just makes everything smell worse.  or better, if one wants to be smelling things so strongly.  lin usually doesn't.

they can smell some one approach, too, without even seeing the person behind them.  they shift, wrapping their arms around themself.  wet is a chilly season, for vertumna standards, but it's more about their beautiful solitude being shattered in the presence of another.

“i don't want to hear anything about skipping classes or hanging out with the others,” lin says, before the person standing behind him has the chance to speak.  “it goes from being too bright to too loud to too…”

he sniffs, trying to figure out the right word for it.  “stinky, i guess.”

not once does he turn to face them, nor does he glance at them.  this is a question that some people might take offense to, but the words tumble out of his mouth regardless.

“i doubt it's half as overwhelming outside the wall.”

he's not some one that exits the wall.  he wouldn't know.  and frankly, he'd be afraid to find out, at least at first.  the thought, however, lingers in the air, between so many droplets pounding on the roof.

dreaming of different

i was a teenage exocolonist au || open thread

[warpaway]

linhardt's eyebrows raise at caspar's answer, a little incredulous.  they aren't particularly sure why it's hard to believe.  today, if anything, they're a different type of pretty, but caspar agrees that the rain hasn't ruined the look.

he even says what linhardt had been sarcastically about to quip with - actually, he is pretty even after he just wakes up from a nap.

that puts a smile on his face for sure, and finds a way to look back to caspar who had… been glancing in the same direction.  it draws a small, amused sound from linhardt's lips, but he ultimately doesn't comment on it.

“i wanted to try something girl-pretty tonight, but i'm not sure if it's really me,” they reply instead.  they draw away from caspar just because they know another thunder crack is inevitable and they'd be better served preparing to bunker down for caspar's sake.  they saw the way he'd flinched, after all, and they think they know exactly what to do.

they continue speaking as they begin shifting two of the chairs together to create a sort of cradle.  “i haven't minded the attention one bit, at least.  though, i don't know how much i can actually take credit for.  this is my face, but it's all dorothea's hard work.”

linhardt begins pulling pillows from a window seat and tossing them at the chairs.  he even finds a blanket.  “there,” he says with a sense of finality as he toes off his shoes and climbs into it.  he hadn't exactly expected his dress to take up so much room, but it's mostly fluff, so it's not like caspar can't just sit on it.  “not as good as a pillow fort, but it should do alright, yes?”

they offer a smile to caspar and pat the seat - well, their dress - beside them.  “come here.”

what i meant was something like a metaphor - that's a comparison between two things that aren't alike, but kind of are - see, the earth and stars are both celestial bodies

TOABall2025 || teenager problems wk 2

[warpaway]

“i don’t think counterfeiting should actually be a crime on its own,” linhardt replies slowly. “if money is given meaning through our perception of it, then the whole printing-money-makes-higher-inflation is just an arbitrary fact. naturally, we can just give money whatever meaning, and thereby value, that we please and -”

and a tube of meat and bread is seen to their hands. they silence, and look to mitama. she seems to know what she’s doing, at least, in this strange world. linhardt’s just relying on what they would normally do, and considering how things have panned out recently, they aren’t sure they’re suited for living here.

not that any of that matters, of course.

mitama directs his gaze to a bench, and he nods in response, wasting no time in ambling their way over there.

“this is a little… slimy?” he says of the whatever he’s about to eat that’s currently in his hands. “which of us is going first? usually i’d just dare caspar, but i don’t think a dare could convince you half as easily.”

clever isekai joke title

[warpaway]

right when linhardt had thought he’d have some sort of relief, a pot is thrust in his hands, and instead of taking it from him and allowing him to bolt, hilda merely helps him get it to the table.

the racuous crowd standing before them is deafening. even with hilda so close to them, linhardt can barely hear her. one word comes through loud and clear, though - “break” - and through this one word everything she’d just said suddenly becomes understood.

“yes,” they breathe, not bothering to modulate their volume in any way. the man whose bowl they mechanically pour soup into gives them a strange look, but they really couldn’t care less.

some of the soup spills onto the man’s hand and he rolls his eyes and grunts disapprovingly. linhardt feels the judgment like a physical weapon, but he doesn’t care.

he begins watching the edge of the soup in the pot. it takes three scoops for it to seem to go down at all, and then a woman yells at him for not even looking at what he’s doing.

he looks, and she doesn’t have any soup on her, so what’s the problem? she stares at him like she expects an apology. he stares back.

“next in line, please,” he says. it comes out quiet so he says it louder, “next in line, please.”

she huffs and he tells the next person in line, without meaning anyone but hilda to hear him, “this is miserable.”

service with a shrug » hilda & linhardt

Even without a clear understanding of what might be afoot here, your group has been ordered to remain in Varley territory. While searching for any leads, it is clear that the local soup kitchen could use a few extra hands, and although your own party is well-taken care of with regards to food and supplies, the same cannot be said for everybody that lives here. Perhaps if you can raise the comfort of living for the destitute, they might have a thing or two to tell you about what goes on in Varley lands, or perhaps you simply do this out of a desire to not see your fellow man suffer. Beware, however, that if you choose to share your own provisions, that some knights traveling with you are much stricter on guarding what’s been brought with and given to your group.

[warpaway]

linhardt hates running errands.  he hates being given things to do, especially such menial things such as procuring supplies.  he's just no good at it.  why make him talk to shopkeepers and buy food?  he's no good at haggling or accounting or talking to people; some one else should be doing this.

however, today they don't mind as much, because they are accompanying marianne von edmund - kindhearted animal-lover from the golden deer house, bearer of a rare, obscure crest, and a cute girl, to boot.  it is, as far as linhardt is concerned, the perfect time to interview her!  beholden by the social laws of their assignment together, it will be much harder for her to avoid their questions!

that's what linhardt had thought, at least.  in practice, it ends up a little differently.  it doesn't take some one good at talking to people to realize her obvious discomfort under even his most cursory of glances, and as much as he wants to learn from her, he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable.  hm.  this will be harder than he thought.

“you know,” they begin slowly, as though they're approaching a cat who hasn't decided if it trusts them yet, “i have a bit of pocket money.  when we're done here, we could treat ourselves to some pastries at the cafe, or -”

“Miss Marianne von Edmund!  I've finally found you!” a nasally voice cuts through the relatively quiet din of the town, as its owner rushes up to greet the two of them.  rather, he greets marianne, and barely lends linhardt a second glance.  “Now, I come to you with a new lead in hand - and I won't let you run off this time, Miss!”

he sounds… aggressive.  linhardt already doesn't like him, for the way he interrupted them and for the way he's interrupting their time with marianne (which is already limited to begin with), but for now they simply glance at marianne, to determine what she'd prefer to do about this.

@cursedbluebird

what's the only thing worse than a scholar? a crest!

pearlescent || v. a clingy lover

[warpaway]

🎄-> cont. from

[warpaway]

linhardt grunts, genuine frustration pulling their eyebrows ever lower.

“age has nothing to do with it, you know.  i may be sixteen, but i've also been personally asked by the leading expert in crestology for my opinion on his research.  if it were as simple as you're saying, then you'd have a better argument to rebuke me with than just ‘you’re young and don't know how the world works'.”

they fold their arms, ducking their head as they try to puzzle this out.  “i know how facts work.  i know how truth works, and i know how to read patterns and determine probability.  oh, that's why you don't argue very well.”

this last sentence is spoken like a revelation.  linhardt's eyes glance up and lock on innes' gaze.  “you agree with me.  you just don't want to, or you feel like you can't, or whatever other silly thing you have going on.”

his mouth pulls into a sweet, gentle smile.  “i don't mind that as much.  even if you can't admit it.”

kiss and tell

[warpaway]

june activity

activity check: passed!

skill points: 15 -> 17!

current threads: view the tracker!

completed threads:

what are you, a cop? :: 1,522 words (other person dropped) 

something about a baby or whatever :: 699 words (muse dropped)

hit movie cube (1997) :: 2,722 words :: authority +1

aita for being afraid of my roommate :: 737 words (muse dropped)

[warpaway]

after their introductions, professor ayra had been very quiet.  it would have been easy to forget she had even been accompanying them.  linhardt hadn't forgotten, though.

he doesn't realize her gambit, and turns his head to look at her, interrupting his little experiment.

“oh, yes,” he replies with a smile.  he's in a good mood, so he doesn't particularly mind repeating the basics of one of his favorite subject since she asked.  “i bear the crest of cethleann, which is special in how it amplifies the effect of healing magic.  imagine a healing spell, then when it triggers, it feels even more refreshing or soothing.”

linhardt removes their dominant hand from the envelope in order to manifest the crest in a glowing orb of magical concentration.  the shape floats delicately above their palm.  “that's what i was attempting.  i want to see the difference between an energized cast of this spell and a normal cast.  it's much safer than the other utility spell i know, for certain.”

the hevring-isaach roofing co.

restoration || faith +1

[warpaway]

“certainly not!” linhardt replies instantly.  an uncharacteristic volume strengthens his voice.  it seems dorothea has managed to see him flustered after all.  “no!  of course not, i have no intentions of -"

they consider it.  would they tear open a grave for research?  the thought makes them physically ill, so there's their answer.  "absolutely not.  i would not - would never rob a grave.

“well.  maybe i would, depending.”

he would totally rob the holy mausoleum.  in a heartbeat.

“anyway, back to the topic at hand.  i'd suspect if this were the statue we're looking for, it would have some sort of hidden compartment or mechanism…”

he steps towards the statue, and examines it from every angle he can without placing himself in dorothea's personal space.  "i don't see anything like that at a cursory glance, however.

“what are opera props like, anyway?  is it the sort of thing where anyone can decide what they look like, or is there some sort of direction, like how they tell you where to stand?  …they do tell you where to stand, right?”

a code-a.

[warpaway]

linhardt has gold on him.  he's pretty sure he has three coins left over from that impulse purchase he made last week, and he's pretty sure he hasn't cleaned out his uniform pockets since then.  even still, he takes mitama's money delicately between two fingers.

“it looks huge,” they comment.  a burly woman in an apron hands some manner of long thing to what linhardt assumes is a customer.  she smiles as they take a bite into one end, nodding their head.  it must taste good.  linhardt is very hungry, suddenly.

“we could share it, if you like.  i doubt i can eat that much anyway.”

then, he tosses them a smile before stepping across the street to the woman and her strange little box full of onion-smelling long-things.

suddenly, there is a very loud sound.  to their ear, it sounds like a terrible magic blast gone awry; the sort of thing that should accompany the smell of ozone or burnt grass, something dangerous and wrong.  it comes from their left, so though they look to see its source, they're met only with a new angle of that big speeding thing, but stationary.

oh.  there's a person inside.  an angry person.  linhardt watches their arm twitch, and the sound happens again.  are they mad at them?  how rude.

in any case, linhardt makes it to the vendor and holds out their shiny gold coin.  “i would like whatever that is, please,” they say with a smile.

the woman offers a smile back, but balks when she sees how they intend to pay for it.  “The hell is that, kid?” she asks, incredulously.

“one gold coin,” linhardt states like it's obvious, because.

“That real gold?”  her wide-eyed stare moves from his face, to the coin, and back.

his eyebrows knit, just as confused as her.  “i'm not particularly well versed in counterfeiting, yes.  well, i suppose my friend may be, but i don't have reason to doubt her right now.”

clever isekai joke title

[warpaway]

83. How often do you take responsibility for other people’s crappy behavior?

linhardt blinks.  they play the question over again in their head.  how often do you take responsibility for other people's crappy behavior?  they rephrase the question, in an attempt to understand it better.  how often does linhardt take responsibility for other people's crappy behavior?

he thinks on it.  has he ever done that?  he's taken the fall for caspar before, when they were both young and one or both of them broke something playing, just because caspar's mother would pull on his ear and linhardt's mother would not.

but that doesn't count.  they were kids playing.

linhardt's brow furrows, confused.  “why would i do that?”

[warpaway]

Would you prefer to be manipulated or to be the manipulator?

“what kind of question is that?” linhardt responds with a question of their own.  "obviously the manipulator.  everyone would pick that one, wouldn't they?  no one wants to be taken advantage of or lied to, but it happens all the time anyway."

he hums, considering, before continuing, “i at least try to be honest about what i'm trying to do.  i don't think i've really taken advantage of anyone.  definitely there have been lies of omission, but no one's been left in the dark when i've tried to break into the church's treasury.  because they should just let me in, to clarify.  i asked nicely the first three times.”

[warpaway]

What is the weirdest thing that gets you angry?

“oh, i don't think i can answer that," linhardt responds casually.  they pick at their nails, bored.  “i think it should be normal to get angry at the idea of senseless combat, but i'm also in the clear minority.”

his eyes flick up to gaze innocently at the interviewer.  “i also don't think it's that strange to be upset at biased historical conjecture being passed off as actual fact, but that's about twenty percent of garreg mach's current collection.  i'm still not over them presenting cornelius the second of rusalka as though he was some sort of scientific genius.  you know that man stared at the sun until he went blind, right?”