Aspel Cassul: When in doubt, Aspel! (weaponry) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-12-28 01:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, aspel cassul |
For you are made of nebulas and novas and night sky, you’re made of memories you bury or live by…
Who: Aspel & Ari
What: The stars.
Where: Aspel’s apartment.
When: Late, late at night.
Rating: PG-ish?
Status: Complete!
It was on nights like this that the cold crept up around the edges of the window panes, creating dazzling patterns within the frost as it stretched up from the bottom, and down from the top, attempting to overtake every bit of glass, wood, and other it could manage before the sun broke through, bringing with it the warmth of morning. For now, the frost could creep around the windows, the stars could shine, and the calm and silence that fell upon the city could remain for at least a bit longer. Realistically, it would be some hours before anything, or anyone, even began to rise from their deep slumbers, and warm beds. Only a madman would find themselves venturing out in a night like this. Thankfully, there would be no need, or even remote desire to venture from bed for Aspel either, especially when consideration was given to the warm body so close by, and how limbs had tangled before settling into their currently comfortable positions. Yet, with a hand absently stroking over the bard’s hair, a faint smile at the corner of her lips, and a definite peaceful calm having settled into her bones, the smith found her eyes lingering across the room, and out the window to the brightly shining stars far above their heads. “Are you familiar with constellations?” Came a low murmur, lips brushing against hair left wild after their previous activities before a soft kiss was pressed to Ari’s head. It seemed a simple enough question, and honestly, Aspel wasn’t ready for sleep quite yet. Beside her, Ari had been allowing her mind to wander. It was early yet, by her estimation, though she had been tired out quite thoroughly earlier. As it was, she was allowing chords and cadences to run through her mind. A new song? Perhaps. She hadn’t really written one recently, aside from the ditty about Flynn. A ballad, perhaps? She was far better known for her comedy than for lyricism, but perhaps it was time to try something new, for variety? Aspel’s question came as she was attempting to work out an awkward chord resolution; she allowed the quiet words and gentle kiss against her hair to distract her. She turned, making sure the blanket continued to cover her -- it was not the warmest of nights -- and regarded the sight out the window. The sky was very clear, no snowy haze obscuring the view. “Somewhat,” she said. “The southern constellations far better than these -- my father was a sea captain.” She smiled faintly, remembering. “He taught me to tell direction almost before I could tell time. The stars, he said, never lie. They are more reliable than a compass.” She snuggled in, head against Aspel’s arm, as she continued. “I learned the stories later.” They varied from region to region, but tended to skew romantic. As myths went, they were some of her favorites. "Ah." Was all Aspel would offer in reply. It would make sense with that background that Ari would be at least minimally familiar with the stars. "Did he sail towards Kerwon often?" At least it seemed a reasonable idea if the bard was more familiar with the southern constellations. Well... That was assuming that Ari just didn't mean south of Emillion that was. A low cut off chuckle was lost in her throat at the commentary of the stars being more true than a compass. "How true he was." The words were slightly absent, distracted while still being there in the same instance. As if there was a thought that disengaged from the current setting that fluttered through her head though the smith still did her best to remain within the present. "Ah, the stories." Aspel had always had a deep fondness for them, and the thought of that in unison with Ari's closeness caused an oddly pleased smile. The stories of the stars were something not to be forgot. They were the greats, the lovers, the saviors, the right and the winners that were forever immortalized in the stars. A languid raising of one arm would end in an extended finger pointing out towards a cluster of stars that could still be made out high above the city lights. "There." The smith's finger attempted to point out one star she thought particularly bright. "Can you see that one there?" Ari attempted to follow the direction of the gesture and laughed softly. It was probably not a test, but Aspel had chosen to start with something easy anyway, it seemed; even viewed partially through the window, the belt of three stars was distinct and easily recognizable. “The Great Hunter,” she said. “Or, I suppose, the Giant -- depending on who you ask. A cautionary tale against pride -- and scorpions, I suspect.” So many of these tales had tragic endings. “Does that one have special significance?” she asked. Perhaps Aspel had mentioned it only as a matter of convenience -- it was easily visible and recognizable -- but perhaps there was something more to it. And lately, she had found herself more willing to pose questions, just as, it appeared, Aspel was more willing to answer them. “Mm.” Aspel confirmed at Ari’s proper identification of what she had been attempting to point out. Thoughts had gone back and forth, it would be nice to teach the other woman something that could be of use, yet... It was an odd sort of relief that the bard came properly equipped with such tools of the trade already at the same time. “Of a sort.” The thought rolled over in her mind for a moment, the words seeming to be mulled over before she continued. “Many of the constellations assisted in my travels while with the Guard, or telling time while upon a mission.” The words were a bit more matter of fact than she’d intended, and Aspel attempted to soften herself with the next words spoken. “Many of their stories are of greatness or sorrow, as I am certain you know.” Wetting her lips, a second was taken. “While younger, I always yearned for more.” The words held a tinge of sadness. “I strove to prove myself, to be something greater than what I was told I could be, what I should be.” Fingers stroked leisurely over the path of skin nearest to them. “Even if it did cause my path to end in tragedy.” “The practical significance of the night sky -- known only to corsairs and wanderers,” Ari said with a smile. “Brighter in the wilderness, I’m told, though I will say I would rather see them out of a window -- or off the deck of an airship -- than overhead while I am trying to sleep upon every rock in Ivalice.” She was quiet a moment before saying thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t call it a tragedy.” Aspel might not see it that way, but from a purely theatrical perspective... “Perhaps a drama. In my experience, at the end of your average tragedy, nearly everyone is dead, and the lesson generally seems to be that death is senseless but unavoidable. Yet here you are, and I must admit, I prefer you alive.” Despite all of Aspel’s attempts at the alternative and her endlessly dented armor. “The stars seem like diamonds in the sky on a cold winter night when viewed from the forest floor.” The memories - while so distant in time - seemed so close to her, even today. The thought of offering to take Ari out into the wilds crossed her mind, yet from their previous conversations - and the current commentary - she did have to wonder if perhaps that wouldn’t be the kindest offer she could ever make. Even if it was something she would love to do, the thought was - at the same time - terribly selfish. “Ah, you misunderstand.” The correction was gentle, her tone housing at least the faintest hint of amusement. “I was willing to make my life a tragedy for greatness.” It was a heavy weight, something she’d never fully admitted verbally to anyone, though, those in the guard probably could have guessed such a simple fact. “I will take your word for it,” Ari said. A pause, then, “I might not object to a walk in the woods, perhaps, provided there is an inn with an actual bed nearby. I do leave the city on occasion.” And if that hadn’t been a hint at an offer, well, no harm done. “It is one of the most common motivations,” Ari answered after a moment of thought. For both heroes and villains, and perhaps all those in-between as well. She did not voice that thought. “One, I think, everyone can understand, even if not everyone possesses the same urge.” She had a sense that Aspel regretted her choices now. That, too, she could understand, even if she tended to find regret to be a terrible waste of time. Then again, her poor decisions had never been quite so… grave in consequence. “No?” A curious raise of brow was earned at the thought of wandering the woods with the other woman at night. After a second a low thoughtful noise was earned, a hum stuck in her throat for a few brief seconds before Aspel seemed to come out of it. “I do believe I know a good inn in the woods.” Thoughts flickered back to their venture out to obtain dark wood all those months ago, and the awkwardness which had ensued. Perhaps they ought to try that inn again sometime soon. Undoubtedly, the results would be quite different this time. “Mm.” It was a confirmation of Ari’s words, though the smith could internally feel herself starting to withdraw a bit. The feeling was natural, it often came after revealing bits of herself that she was particularly insecure about, but an attempt at squashing it out quickly followed. There was no need for that here. “Following greatness, attempting to nip at its heels to the point of your own destruction is far from worth the end it brings. Remember that for me, no?” “Then perhaps we should revisit the thought, sometime when the weather cooperates and deigns to raise the temperature above freezing,” Ari said. “Let us simply hope that our rash of bad luck and unlikely monster attacks is at an end. Should I knock on wood, do you think?” It almost seemed the thing to do, considering their track record. The silence that followed the next words was not quite as light as those previous; after a moment, Ari turned, leaving the sight of the window behind so that she might instead face the other woman, offering a light, affectionate kiss before she said, “Yes, if you like, although I don’t think you are likely to forget.” She suspected that self-flagellation was a deeply ingrained habit for Aspel, unfortunately. Once again, quiet was allowed to descend before she said, “I’ve always been fond of the Dreamhare, myself, though it would get tedious running eternally from an arrow that never flies, I suppose. Or the Unicorn, though that one isn’t as easy to see.” She named the Hunter’s neighbors, returning the subject to one that would, perhaps, be easier to address. “Which is your favorite? I was always partial to the Queen’s Crown, particularly. I was very disappointed the day I learned that stars were not made of diamonds.” “That likely would be best.” And as far as Aspel was concerned, that was likely to be the end of that conversation until the season was more appropriate again. The commentary regarding their previous luck was given a brief scoff, certainly, with all of the times they’d…. Fulfilled their desires… Since that point, such a thing should - in theory - no longer be of concern? Ari’s words earned a noise of confirmation as Aspel’s free arm extended, knuckles knocking against the wooden nightstand near the bed. The kiss was… A mild surprise in a sense, but welcome as it oddly assisted in soothing her mildly pained state. “It shall never hurt to have reminders if they become needed again.” The words were soft, colored faintly with scars from years of emotional strain, but in the end, she tried her best to assure the mood was not ruined completely by easing them as much as she could. “Is that so?” The question was easy, a measure of normalcy in its own regard as Ari then continued to carry on about this constellation and that. Though, the question would take a moment, sincere thought given to the topic for a few seconds before she even remotely began to speak. “If you had asked me a dozen years ago, I would be tempted to claim The Princess . Yet, I fear now I hold a certain fondness towards the Water snake or the Phoenix . Silly things really, I suspect, but being chained down by others is a fate that no one desires. Though, I always found myself displeased by the notion of one having to wait for another to become their savior.” A pause was taken, consideration given to her next words before - with the faintest hesitance - Aspel began to speak once more. “The water snake oft reminds me that if allowed to be so, we can be summoned by others, and used to their personal end. Yet, within the Phoenix, we are taught that everything can be born anew, finding a second life, a second chance, even if they are considered material for abandonment by others.” “One must wonder why the ladies of legend don’t occasionally endeavor to save themselves,” Ari commented. “I’d rather the Water Snake than the Princess myself, if it comes to that.” She imagined, had she felt particularly chained in her own life, she might have preferred the Princess herself; as it was, that whole story did not feel relatable. Had she been in the place of the princess, she might have recognized her mother’s lunacy and run long before her father got it into his head to feed her to a monster. But that was neither here nor there. “I do like the Phoenix,” she admitted. “All of the southern birds, really, but then, my reasoning is not quite so well thought-out.” She smiled sheepishly, then shrugged, the blanket rising and falling with her shoulder. “I simply like birds. Your reasons are better.” “An endless curiosity I must admit.” Aspel confirmed with Ari’s initial response. It was unfortunate the number of tales that found resolution in some big strong man saving the poor, pathetic, helpless girl from a fate that was made out to be worse than death. A grunt of confirmation was offered in response to the bard’s preferences on which she’d take if required to choose one over the other. Though, the newest bit of information earned a low laugh which was muted by closed lips, and being partly cut off in her throat. “Is that so?” A faint smile was offered before Aspel leaned over, placing a gentle kiss against Ari’s brow. “Curious.” “I mean, really, everyone needs some assistance once in awhile, but the lovely, helpless virgin, chained to a rock, left to the mercies of a massive serpent?” The sound she emitted was a rather unladylike snort. “It is not the most subtle of metaphors. Nor the most pleasant, really.” Mythology tended to be a bit over the top about such things. At the question, she giggled and said, “Oh, yes, you have uncovered a little-known secret about me. How could I be so foolish as to give it away?” Her own kiss in response was placed against the underside of Aspel’s jaw, and followed by a yawn. “I am considering one of two things,” she admitted. “Would you like to help me make up my mind?” “It is a bit much, yes.” Really, was there anything one could do but agree? Though, the sound was… Oddly charming all of its own. A smile slightly pulled at her lips regardless of the topic at hand and its utter absurdity. Though, the fact that Ari thought about these things at all was… Oddly endearing, and a relief. To know that one was not completely off on their own page in the world was a sort of comfort that anyone could appreciate. “I know not, yet I - of course - must find way to exploit it now, no?” And back to banter they managed to slip. It was as easy as falling with the two of them it seemed, and perhaps, they were falling for more than either of fully realized. The kiss caused a certain warm fondness to rise in her smile, and a brow quirked at the question. “Oh?” “I look forward to these attempts at exploitation,” Ari said. “As for my very difficult decision, well, either I can pull up this blanket that keeps -- insidiously -- slipping from my shoulder, and fall asleep draped all over you -- such a hardship, I know -- or, alternately…” Another kiss followed the first, just a little lower, then a little nibble to punctuate, “I am considering ensuring I am far too warm to be bothered about the blanket, first.” And really, she thought as her hand shimmed down Aspel’s ribs, either option held its own appeal at the moment. “Your thoughts on the matter?” The prompting earned a low chuckle, perhaps she’d need to find a gift of some sort with birds next time she had the chance to give a gift. It would be interesting to see how something of that nature went over. Though, the new direction of the conversation earned a quirked brow and Aspel listened intently, simply being pleased with their current positioning and warmth. A pleased, heavy exhale was earned thanks to the light, but well placed administrations of affection from Ari. “I do believe,” Aspel began gingerly, her voice holding the tiniest hint of breathiness at the current consideration at hand. “the best way to warm from chill is engaging in activity which shares body heat, no?” With that, a hand stroked down over the bard’s side as Aspel rolled over, moving to straddle the other woman’s hips. It seemed it would be the latter option -- knowing Aspel (especially recently), Ari was not the least bit surprised. “How silly of me to have even considered an alternative.” She looked up at the other woman’s face, grinning up at her in the darkness as she shifted her own position, arms coming up to loop around Aspel’s shoulders. “Well then,” she said, all talk of stars -- and past mistakes -- forgotten, “warm me up.” |