open | like a B- for effort

[illequipped]

Who: ya boy emil and you
When: now, later, etc
Where: queen's residence, around town, a farm somewhere
What: some influence jobs and a general prompt
Warnings: he may cry eventually

loren's lament

[Let the record show: Emil and any kind of paperwork have never gotten along swimmingly. He barely scraped through school and has a personal vendetta against reading for work, so this? This is honestly his worst idea to date, letting himself get roped into reading for work!!! for this Loren person. What's in it for him, he mumbles mostly to himself, but he's still doing it.

Like, not very well. But he's sitting behind a messy stack of papers, now mumbling mostly to himself about how "sort by severity" is completely subjective? For example, he has no vested interest in the rippling effects of recent upheavals on local businesses, but apparently a lot of people do! Wow! Amazing!

For the third time in an hour, he sighs loudly. Hi, you're here, so please give his woes your attention.]

This is dreadful. Does he really read all of these when no one else is here?

[Who READS??]

shock it 2 me

[The only reason Emil is even trying to help with the livestock problem is because... well. Honestly, it's because the thought of sad farm animals made him deeply upset and he was compelled to come help. What this means for the job, however, is that an overly-emotional tiny dude has become attached to at least one farm animal (like, a cute baby goat, probably) in between complaining about how the animals seem to want to follow him around and chew on various bits of his clothing.

And then, tragedy of tragedies, his favorite baby goat goes missing and he is deeply distraught. Now, at last, he is inspired to take action.

Of course, he's terrible at Craft, so his misguided attempts to do anything resembling an electric fence keep ending with him giving himself a huge dose of static electricity. Is nothing easy?]

stylish yet irresponsible use of stipend

[Or: who blew their whole stipend on clothes instead of budgeting for food? This guy. On the one hand, he can dress like a local on a whim now! That's exciting! The clothes aren't incredibly great, but they're not terrible. He's managing.

He's also incredibly hungry, which is starting to get embarrassing hours and hours after breakfast. Please feed him, or at least humor him when he very abruptly begins a Casual Conversation (hint: he's bad at this one):]

How do people get jobs here? Just wondering.

misc

[hello what do you want to do? i'm probably on board with it. you can send me a pm or pp to jojoveller with ideas or just tag wildly!! dark knights is the only job emil won't do... and for my own sake i'd like to limit job threads to 2 per job so i can handle them!! thank you

feel free to find him being terrible at magic practice or whining about morning training, etc, i am really open.]

Comments

[ilves]

[Going from leaning against the wall to leaning against a shoulder isn't nearly enough to wake Lalli; his snoozing self easily settles into this new position, unconsciously moving his arm to a much comfier place as he slowly slips off to—

—somewhere... vaguely familiar? It's a slow, sleepy thought as he swims awake, because he doesn't have to open his eyes to know that he isn't where he should be. He's sitting somewhere soft, for one thing, leaning against something that's, um, breathing. Hmm. This isn't exactly a common occurrence in his personal Finnish forest, but brief moment of panic aside—oh, right. Things fall into place, especially once he does open his eyes and see where, exactly, he is.

And... what, exactly, he's leaning against. Ah. Lalli sits upright a bit faster than he probably should, hand automatically going to the cheek that was pressed against Emil's arm as he blinks back at his friend. Weird? Definitely weird. The leaning-against-Emil thing, and, you know, just... being back in this place. The orphanage! No, no.]

Your... home? [His eyes slide around the room, taking everything in before summing it all up with a:] Mrh.

[An uncomfortable noise from a clearly uncomfortable boy. So many memories...]

[illequipped]

[Here they go, doing the dream thing yet again. It would be obvious to Emil if he actually thought about it - they've spent a significant amount of time mentally connected in the waking world now without cutting it off before going to sleep, so - obviously! Here they are!

That it's his house they wake in instead of that little dock, or a trashcan, or even just a dream version of their Palace room is more of a wildcard, but here they are! And there goes Lalli, pulling away from him as Emil blinks and rubs at his face. Hmm.]

Hi, yes, I guess so. [The last time they were here was... ah.] Oh, this probably isn't where you wanted to be, is it? I'm... sorry?

[He promises, if this is somehow his fault, he didn't choose this dream couch on purpose. Lalli is clearly not enjoying the scenery, but how can he Help... will cake help!!]

Well, how are you feeling?

[ilves]

[No, this isn't his first choice for a shared dream experience, but... it's different this time. He isn't trapped here; like, he can feel that, so after another quick glance around the room—hmm. ...Okay. He rubs his cheek in a distracted sort of way, shoulders dropping a bit, because it's not like this is Emil's fault? And it's not even that bad, truth be told. He can... adjust. Slowly. Just don't expect him to be incredibly talkative (haaaaaaa) right off the bat.]

Tired. [Well, that's the incredibly simple truth! But as he looks back over at that cake—] ...Hungry.

[Yes, dream!cake will indeed help. Is there any problem sugar can't solve?]

[illequipped]

[Diabetes, which neither of them know exists, so never mind. Emil hums and leans forward off the couch to reach the delicious dream cake on the table, ready and waiting... It's a whole cake when he picks it up off the table, but it's a single slice when he sits back and passes it over to Lalli; dream logic that he, at least, does not recognize at all.

He's gotten better at the dream sharing experience, but it's the little things. Eat of his dream cake and be satisfied.]

Lucky for you, there's plenty here. ...I have no idea what we're going to really eat, later. We're still out of money.

[ilves]

[Cake! Hell... yes. If Lalli notices this dream magic—which, let's be real, he doesn't—he's not about to say anything; he just accepts that plate before, like, settling back into the couch, because now we have two threads where they're just chillin' on some comfortable furniture. Hmm.]

Bread.

[It's just a matter-of-fact statement, because there's always bread to be found in the kitchen... if you're sneaky. Anyway, let him swipe off a bit of icing and taste it, just to make sure everything is fine, before he picks up the entire piece of cake like the heathen that he is. Let him... chomp.]

They should give us more money. [Like that's totally an option here, but hold on.] ...Or we can work. Somewhere.

[Scouting is always in HIGH DEMAND! Never mind that he has no idea how to go about getting a job himself... tell him about your exciting job hunt, Emil.]

[illequipped]

[Uggggh, Lalli, he's sooo sick of bread. Some people like more than three foods! He's dying of culinary boredom.

Or: oh great, more bread. That earns a sigh, and he turns toward Lalli to lean his elbow on the back of the couch and look at him chomping a whole piece of cake like that. Yep... gross.]

I was trying to find a job, before I came back. Did you know some weird guy got a job all because he asked and looked very pitiful about it? Some people don't have any shame.

[ilves]

[Bread is good! Not, like, cake-level good, but Lalli just offers a halfhearted shrug in response to that sigh. It's better than candle soup...

But whoa, asking for a job is wild? Much wilder than, say, working on a military base because that's where you live, or having your gung-ho cousin sign you up on a risky mission without really making sure you're okay with it. Let him consider this as he takes another bite of cake.]

Why would someone give him a job because he looked sad? [Munch, munch, munch.] ...It's probably a stupid job. One that no one wanted.

[Like... burning things! No, no.]

Did you find anything?

[At all??? He's giving Emil a very expectant look here, like he expects... some kind of news. A hint.]

[illequipped]

It probably is stupid, [Emil agrees, automatically, because he's jealous someone else got a job so easily and... he can't remember what it was Leo said he did for work. Oops!]

No one would talk to me for more than a couple minutes! Even after we helped so much when their stupid power plant exploded.

[He huffs and slouches down on the couch, crossing his arms. This is a full pout... this city is discriminating against him personally, Lalli.]

...Someone did offer to teach me some first aid, though. One of "us."

[ilves]

[So absolutely no luck on the job front, huh. Sad. Lalli takes another bite of his cake, chewing thoughtfully as he takes in all of Emil's drama. This is why most people should be avoided! Duh!

But instead of saying that Emil probably said all of the wrong things (pot meet kettle, am I right), he puts his cake back down on his plate before reaching out to... gently pat Emil on the shoulder. There's only a little bit of icing on his fingers? It's fine.]

Mmh.

[That's heartfelt commiseration, Lalli style. Now then, on to the next thing—]

That's good? Useful. You'll be like the... really big Danish one. [Is this a compliment or an insult? Anyway, give him a second before:] Mikkel.

[Names! Who cares about them. Just tell him more about this mystery person now that he's obviously paying attention.]

[illequipped]

[Thanks, nasty boy. Emil gives him a half-hearted smile anyway, for the pat- thank you, but also? Gross, icing.

Now,] I know you know his name.

[Here he assumes that skipping the name at first is, like, some sass... Mikkel is annoying in a dad kind of way, but he does keep them alive. Tolerance, Lalli.]

I'm supposed to find this weird-looking person after dark, apparently? He wrote his room number on my hand.

[The indignity of it! And also why he had smudges on his hand, because of course his first action was to immediately try to wash it off.]

[ilves]

[Does he, though? Does he? ...Yeah, he totally does, but Lalli just shrugs as he picks his cake back up. There's only, like, three people whose name he regularly uses, so deal.

Anyway, hmm... stranger danger may not be a thing where they're from, but that sure does sound suspicious? Suspicious enough for Lalli to glance down at said hand and narrow his eyes at those weird smudges. Who writes things on their hands...]

You let him? [Apparently? Who Are You, but also—] You shouldn't go at night. Only during the day.

[He's going to wake Lalli up when he comes in!! Not really, but..........]

[illequipped]

I didn't let him! He just did it.

[It was weird! Then it got weirder!! Maybe he can turn these first aid lessons into a correspondence course, now that he's thinking about it... He doesn't want to go talk to weirdos after dark.]

How hard do you think it would be to find someone else who knows real first aid...?

[ilves]

[Mmm, this look Emil is getting right now... so full of Doubt, because listen, buddy.]

It's your hand.

[No one can do shit with your hand unless you let them? Why are you letting strangers hold your hand, Emil. That's what Lalli really wants to know, even as he moves right along.]

Ask someone else? One of the Blood people, with the Queen.

[Like... Loren... but he's pettily refusing to say that name!!]

[illequipped]

[He has poor reaction time!!! Let him fucking live!!]

Hmm, maybe. [....] But they're kind of intimidating, don't you think?

[So what if he... DIDN'T......]

[ilves]

[No! Don't let strangers grab your hand, Emil, what the FUCK.]

No. [Yes.] They won't make you come visit them at night.

[He's just sayin'.]

[illequipped]

[He didn't LET anybody do anything!! Lalli clearly has their one brain cell right now...]

Oh, that's true. Well, I'm not in a rush or anything. I'll get to it!

[ilves]

[Sounds like Emil... didn't mind it happening at all? Hmm! A mystery is afoot, and it's a good thing Lalli is a fucking idiot.]

Mhm.

[The doubt CONTINUES, even as Lalli looks meaningfully over at the table. More cake? More cake. Does he have to get it...]

I can find you? If it's... bad. [Weird. Friendly backup is just a mental text away.] But you should learn more spells.

[Defensive shields or something? How To Set A Weirdo On Fire.]

[illequipped]

[Oh, now he has a chaperone... No, no, he appreciates the consideration. So much that he does indeed follow Lalli's gaze to the cake and lean forward to get him another piece without being asked. See this? This is friendship.]

I suppose you're right. We'll have to do that before I go to see anyone about first aid whatevers.

[Teacher Lalli has been enlisted. Educate him some more.]

[ilves]

[Aw yeah, more cake! This is why Emil is the best friend... and why Lalli actually, you know, takes the time to consider what spells Emil should learn next while he settles back with his brand new slice of cake.]

Mmm. You have a lot to learn. [Like... well, let him flip through his mental spell repertoire—] ...Shields? To keep people away. Out of your mind.

[April's ponytail thread: locked in.]

[illequipped]

[Emil makes a face, briefly stricken, but it's not because he has to learn more spells. They did good at this teaching thing today! But the memory of other things, both here and at home, just waltzing into his mind and talking at him that he can't do anything about is soooo... uuuggghh.

To think, there's finally one magic thing he agrees he really does need.]

Yes, yes. Is that... hard? It's not going to be like it was, you know, back then, is it?

[Sit and do nothing and hope for the best? Please tell him there's a trick to it.]

[ilves]

[...Well, that's certainly a look. Lalli leaves his cake right where it is as he blinks over at Emil and, you know, thinks back to... that time. It wasn't fun for either of them, but after all of the wild and wacky bullshit he went through, did he ever stop to consider how Emil felt about everything after the fact...

Answer: no, because that's tough.]

Mmn... no? It's not— [Hmm, how to put this? How did it feel during morning lessons?? He lifts his eyes as he thinks.] It's quieter here? Different. But it still feels... bad.

[Wrong! Anyone digging around your brain feels terrible, but instead of going into detail—hmm. He hesitates for a moment before glancing down at his untouched piece of cake and... holding it out for Emil. Here, friend. Eat a snack.]

I'll help you.

[He has to reiterate this fact because hes the BEST teacher, you see. No worries.]

[illequipped]

[It's cool, he's fine. For someone with an endless list of complaints and drop of a hat panicking, Emil sure doesn't give up that much serious stuff. In this very dream, something is distantly on fire and he's still ignoring it.

See, they have this cool thing in common. Buddies.]

Hmm. [Sounds... awful! He takes the cake and swipes some icing off with his finger, because at least he's not an animal who picks up whole cake slices with his bare hands.

But anyway!!]

Thank you, Lalli. I'll practice, so it doesn't take as long as it did this time.

[Maybe. Maybe he will practice.]