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

[illequipped]

[He's just trying to make a living!! And doing poorly at it so far, but never mind that. He's here, and he came all the way back for... a rock. Some context besides "it's a spell" would be great here, considering it just looks like a rock until he comes over and sits next to Lalli and... pokes it.

Oh. Warm. Right, there had been another of those requests for people to help warm those houses without power...]

Lalli, that's a rock.

[Ha!! No, he gets it, but please understand from the look on his face that just showing him a warm rock doesn't help him at all. What is he supposed to do, hold it until it makes sense all at once? Eat it? Maybe swallowing magic things will work faster than what he's been trying.

But okay-- okay. He did not want to spend this afternoon doing magic stuff, but he can do this.]

Are you going to help me with this one?

[ilves]

[Oh! My God! Obviously it's a rock, Emil, and obviously Lalli's going to help you learn the spell that's woven around it; like, that's the whole reason he rushed back here in the first place, which is why he quickly snaps his hand closed. Wasn't it obvious?

Answer: No, hence the quiet little sigh that escapes him. This is so much harder than just listening to Emil complain about people and/or things, but... patience? Maybe?? He's going to try.]

Yes.

[Patience is why the stupid is left unspoken... but clearly implied. Anyway, give him a second to concentrate on breaking this particular spell; it's an alien concept he has yet to master, but eventually, after a quiet Tch or two, he opens his hand once more and gestures for Emil to pick up his new pet rock. Rocky Balboa, Jr? Rock Hudson II?]

I'll show you how, but—mmph. [How to put this wild concept? There's a brief pause before he switches over to telepathy.] Like this? So you can... feel how it should feel. I think.

[Once again: he's shit at this whole communication thing, so just take this rock and agree to share this mental space.]

[illequipped]

[The rock is called Small Buddy and there will be no opposition to this. Emil gives him another look, one that at least switches from confusion to understanding when he takes the rock and finds it no longer toasty. Aha.]

Oh— thank you.

[Is it an honest surprise that Lalli is going to help him do this magical education thing? Kind of! No offense, best friend in the whole world(s)! Still, pleasant surprise aside, he's got his rock and now he's got this boy in his personal brain bubble again.]

Is that— alright this feels very stupid, I want you to know that. I'm looking right at you!

[HUFF... okay, it's out of his system.]

Okay, what next? Is this how it really works?

[ilves]

[Stupid? No. If anything, it just feels... uncomfortable, but Lalli tries not to think about that as he reaches back into his pocket and brings Small Buddy's twin out into the open. They share dreams every now and again; sitting across from one another and sharing thoughts shouldn't be a terribly big deal, even though Lalli knows that, if he truly wants Emil to feel everything he feels, he needs to expand this mental link of theirs? Deepen it.

...Which is A Lot, actually, but. Well. Add this to the list of things he's only willing to do for his one (1) friend! As long as he remembers the task at hand, i.e. casting this simple spell, then everything should (hopefully) be fine.]

Just pay attention.

[A short, snippy sentence to cover up his own discomfort, but really, there's no hiding things from Emil at this point in time; he's free to feel just how awkward, how nervous, Lalli really is, even though Lalli is making a conscious effort to keep his... everything in check. It's weird! There's no doubt about it! He can... feel... Emil's mind, like, brushing against his own, which is why he doubles down on his efforts to focus solely on the magic within him. It's there, just like it always is—a well of power that he easily draws upward, all while he attempts to think about nothing but heat and warmth and comfort. Craft is all about shaping magic into what he wants it to be; in this case, it's like... a net, one that he slowly, painstakingly wraps around that rock in his hand while continuing to think about what he wants this spell to do.

But it's not a particularly difficult spell, nor is he working with a particularly large rock; when the wrapping is through, he lets the magic from his Jewel slow to a trickle before cutting off the flow entirely. Voilà ! There we have it—one warm, toasty rock, which Lalli holds up the tiniest bit higher. Is that a flash of smugness Emil feels... maybe...]

There.

[Did you get that, Emil? Did you?? Don't make him explain a god damn thing.]

[illequipped]

[It's strange, no doubt about it; sharing dreams is strange too, but it's a strange that saved both their lives in more than one way, so Emil has come around to that one. Magic is... strange; intimidating, when his first real experiences with it were that time with the fire bird and then Lalli doing whatever he did to save them on the ice. If there's a mental equivalent of standing at a polite distance, that's how Emil feels about magic besides this thing.

This one, the one they share, specifically. Practicing Craft with anyone else is just fumbling around with clumsy half-spells until he quits, none of this mind stuff. He can... sense(??) Lalli's presence, mind or magic or whatever, closer to him than simply sitting here staring at each other, and that is... also strange. But he can tell just how nervous Lalli is about this, and that, because he is who he is, is the part that gets him to focus on the actual magic.

A desire to learn? Laughable. A slow-building appreciation of Lalli trying for his sake? He's weak.

Ah, but he's already missed a few details—]

Oh.

[Woops, sorry, he was being a softy. He frowns, trying for a moment to focus on the maaaagic, but his own well of power is unwieldy and his handling clumsy, like trying to march around in boots that are too big for him. Hang on, hang on—]

It stays like that?

[He'll try again with or without an answer, but Emil Västerström does not do painstaking or careful shaping or delicate; it's more like a... smear, honestly, messy and not covering the whole rock at all, hastily drawn out before he fumbles and loses the hold on the magic. There is a warmed spot.]

...Well, almost?

[ilves]

[...It would be a lie to say that Lalli expected Emil to pick this up immediately? Maybe he hoped for such a thing, but, well. The added benefit of being linked like this is that he can feel just how hard Emil is actually trying; it's why, when Emil fails to properly secure the spell, Lalli doesn't feel that same annoyance he felt when Emil, say, failed to immediately pick up on telepathy. He can see where Emil went wrong this time! He can feel the exact point where Emil lost control, and it's clear that it's less Emil giving this a half-hearted effort and more Emil just... honestly struggling with something so wholly unfamiliar. He's trying to rip this board off the fence, but it's not coming off so easily, you know? Thinking about it like that... helps.]

Almost, [Lalli confirms, leaning forward to place a finger on that small spot of warmth.] But you went too fast? And you didn't... stretch it out enough.

[And now there is a hint of frustration coming Emil's way, but it's not directed at him; it's clear that Lalli is annoyed at his... inability to properly express this difficult concept. He wants to! He genuinely wants to, but words aren't always the easiest thing for him. Still, he does his best to bury that feeling as he focuses on breaking the spell he literally just cast. It's somehow more tiring for him than casting the darn thing in the first place, but once again he feels the warmth radiating from his rock fade away.]

Watch again. Try again.

[And he will indeed re-weave this spell, making sure to slow down during those steps he saw—felt—Emil struggle through.]

[illequipped]

[Lalli is lucky Emil will try harder for him. Everyone else who's asked him to do just about anything at all in this place has watched him quit inside ten minutes, but that's neither here nor there. Lalli is helping, and that makes him feel better about how difficult this is, and that is... something. Like perhaps this is a wall he can climb and not a gap he can't jump across.

Not that that helps him understand Lalli's very much physical way of explaining these abstract concepts. Stretch it out? What does that mean? There's a flicker of frustration from Emil in return, but he shrugs it off before giving his focus back to the task at hand.

(Something to think about later: You can break this magic? He's lost in that regard, as well.)]

I don't know what stretching it means.

[Maybe draw him a diagram to keep in his pocket at all times? The second weave helps; he tries his best to follow along a step behind and keep up with this DIY magic tutorial. Ultimately his command of magic is stop-and-go, besides the telepathy - and that one only because of their storied mind-sharing past. Magic— no, having magic doesn't come naturally to him; this is just as difficult as fumbling his way through basic Finnish phrases.

Still! He can't break his own warm spot smear spell, so he'll just have to work around it, try harder to hold the magic and make something out of it rather than simply tossing it wildly out into the world. Lalli is making nets, or something— maybe he can make... a bubble. A bucket with a lid? He lacks the finesse to control this magic into threads, but maybe a sort of lumpy sphere will get the job done.]

[ilves]

[How long will that smidgen of a spell last, anyway? Better to cast a new spell over top of it than waste time breaking it, in Lalli's opinion, especially once he sees/feels how Emil is shaping this second attempt. It's... an interesting take! Not as stable as, say, continuously tucking the spell over and under itself, but what feels natural to Lalli obviously doesn't feel natural to Emil; it seems difficult enough for Emil to just, you know, keep his magic from slipping out of reach, which is something Lalli hasn't felt since... well. It's been a while.

...A soft hum, then, as he compares his own neat, tidy spell to Emil's... bucket, because these techniques couldn't be more different? Like, there's something annoying about the obvious differences here, thanks to Lalli's razor-thin patience, but there's also something decidedly humorous about them. Stupid Emil... just as clumsy with magic as he is with everything else...

So annoyance tinged with the tiniest bit of friendly affection: that's what Emil's going to pick up here as Lalli regards that spell of his.]

You stretched it too much.

[Yes, yes, what does that mean... hold up. Let him scoot back to rest against the wall, because all of this is slowly taking its toll. He used magic earlier in the day; he still has a decent amount left, but he can feel the tell-tale signs of fatigue as he slouches down. Don't mind the fact that his boots are on the bed... that's what blankets are for...]

You used more magic than you needed to? You made it... too big. It should be smaller. [Like his own spell, which is so closely wrapped around the rock that there's, like, no space to be found.] If you use more magic than you need, you'll have to stop. Rest.

[Anyway, give him a second to loosen his own spell—to find the main thread and, like, cut it loose to unravel the entire thing—before he holds it out for Emil to take. That's right, bud! Lalli is a relentless teacher, so third time's the charm!]

Use less.

[illequipped]

[Let him be messy, this is the way he lives. Emil gives him a look just for a second, shrugging one shoulder - he can't help it! But it's different now; sure, his magic is still... uh, bad, but he's that much less embarrassed by it now. He can probably learn this, given time and little wisps of affection like that.

But ah, come back here... Emil already learned that fun tidbit about tiring himself out when he failed to Craft a splinter removal, but he's kind of accepted that as an inevitable fact. Sooner or later he'll have to correct that idea, but for now - well, duh, of course he's going to wind up exhausted. Magic is too strange for anything else.

Still-] I did it, though.

[And he lets go of his bucket... bubble spell all at once, which is a backwards kind of surge of power that Lalli can probably feel the end of, too. Oops. Lesson learned: don't do it like that. He makes a face and moves to lean against the wall himself, now that one or both of them is mere minutes from passing out...

Now, hold on.]

I'm... supposed to do it with yours? Lalli, I can barely do it with mine.

[Also, he can't weave, who weaves.]

[ilves]

[Lalli can't help but to pull a face when he feels that messy spell collapse, but he doesn't pull his hand away; if anything, he holds his rock up a little higher, giving Emil a mental nudge as he does so. It's just a regular ol' rock, Emil! Take it!!]

It wasn't right. Try again. Make it better.

[And without watching Lalli go through every single step, because this time Lalli wants to focus solely on watching/feeling Emil work his way through this thing on his own. Not that Lalli is going to just quietly sit here; he leans a little closer to Emil, keeping his eyes trained on Small Buddy the Second as he points out little things here and there. Emil's pulling too much magic to begin with? Keep it to a trickle, stupid. Emil tries to make another dumb bubble? Don't. Focus on this, keep that steady, don't rush—

Eventually, after Lalli uses his own magic to help prod a few things into place, Emil's magic is narrowed into a kind of... thin sheet? Something to tightly wrap around the rock before tying it into a kind of mental knot, all of which Lalli communicates through a series of mental images as he yawns.]

Like that? But think about how warm you want it to be.

[Set the temperature as Lalli slumps back! He's not going to sleep... yet... even though his eyes are getting heavier as he waits for Emil to wrap this shit UP. Don't just let it backfire this time!!]

[illequipped]

[Nooo, that Small Buddy isn't his Small Buddy, he can't do anything with it... He'll take it, but apparently just staring at it is the correct move here, because Lalli starts doing some actual teaching after he stares for a bit. That's nice; that helps in a practical way that his exasperated fondness and general presence can't.

That said, it's also very harrowing, but Emil... pulls through? With help. Now he has this magic Ziploc bag to put the rock in, which is much easier, not that Lalli has to know that right now or he'll be smug again. The mental knot is imprecise but it's done, and all that's left is to make it warm!

Without burning his hands, because even Emil can recognize that possibility as something he might do. No, no, he's got this— a nice, soothing toastiness, that's enough.]

Alright... there. Now I've done it. Lalli, look.

[Hi, hello, tell him he did good before going to sleep.]

[ilves]

[He's quite comfortable where he is, thanks, but he will (lazily) stretch a hand out toward that rock, arm resting atop Emil's for a moment as he focuses on what he's feeling in the very tips of his fingers. Ah... that's definitely warmth? A comfortable warmth. Not too hot, but not too cold.

...Hmm. The corners of his lips twitch upward the slightest bit, just barely, as Lalli feels a rush of—many things? Surprise, because seriously, this simple spell has certainly taken long enough; pride, because he knows this is all thanks to his excellent (ha) teaching; relief, because Emil finally did something with magic other than, like, huff and whine about it.

But above all of that—fondness. A much stronger surge of affection for his stupid, stupid friend than the tiny ripple he'd unknowingly sent forth earlier. Is this spell perfect? No, but it's... a start. Proof that Emil can do these things, even if it's going to take him forever and a day to master them.]

Mm. You did. [Kiiiiiind of. He draws his hand back at last, making sure to give Emil a brief pat on the arm as he does so.] It's... better? Good.

[Not perfect! Just good, because there's obviously still room for improvement, but that's high Lalli praise for sure.]

[illequipped]

[Ah, so this is the feeling of learning a new thing (somewhat) successfully... Emil is proud of his- or, well, Lalli's little rock with his spell on it, don't get him wrong! Magic still isn't his priority, but it feels good to have done this thing better than before. That said— yeah, it's definitely all of these Lalli feelings he's getting in mental waves that are the key motivator, still. He glances at Lalli, not bringing it up so he doesn't spoil the mood, but he has to wonder if Lalli... knows he keeps doing that? Is it Emil's apparent tendency to let any and all outside emotions into his weak mind that makes picking up on those so automatic for him?

Probably. Maybe. Pff, as if he'll ever actually know. What he does know is he's ended this emergency magic lesson on a high note, and he nudges Lalli's shoulder with his own as he settles. Friendly nudge!]

I have a good teacher. [No, false, but considering Emil hates teachers, being terrible at it is for the best.] Thank you.

[He's... pleased! With himself, with his Small Buddy, with Lalli. It radiates off of his thoughts in exactly the same way the warmth radiates off of the rock, which Emil definitely will not comprehend. It's fine. He did it!]

I am sooooo... tired.

[ilves]

[Emotions are complicated, Emil! Lalli is tired, for one thing - too tired to consider better shielding himself and/or shutting down this mental link they have going now, because it's conveniently saving him from having to actually speak. But there's also, you know, something to be said about how relatively... comfortable... this is? Feelings and empathy are things Lalli is sure he's so far above, but here, with his mind brushing against the mind of the one person he enjoys being around... hmm. It's surprisingly easy for Stuff to slip right through while he's distracted by other things, like... how bright Emil feels at this very moment, and how wonderful of a teacher he really, truly is. Yeah! Experience this smug aura.]

You're welcome.

[He is the best scout and the best teacher? Praise him, honestly, while he stretches his arms out in front of him and listens to Emil mentally whine. He, too, is sleepy! He doesn't even have the strength to crawl under the bed at this point in time, even though he strongly considers it, so let him just (mentally) return Emil's friendly little nudge. It's okay for him to do this thing, apparently... don't question it, and don't try it...]

Then rest? Stupid.

[Just close those eyes and doze until Lalli gets up, which will surely be soon... after he crosses his arms over his stomach, closes his eyes, and spends a few minutes pondering things and/or listening to Emil whine about being called a name. He's comfortable? Warm. Even feeling Emil sitting so close to him isn't enough to push him away, because that's another weird kind of comfort. His dumb friend...

...Zzz.]

[illequipped]

[Calling him a good teacher is the praise, greedy. There are enough tender feelings floating around here to last at least a few days; Emil has done his due diligence, and that includes the friendly nudge. Take his messy affection and treasure it. He nearly does that again, this time as friendly chiding for calling him stupid, but nah. Too sleepy.]

Oh, yes, I never would have thought of that. Thank you, Lalli.

[This punk... Emil turns the little rocks over in his palm a few times, an idle fidget before he really commits to resting. He's already leaned back and shut his eyes when Lalli totally knocks out, appreciating the satisfaction of doing a new thing decently, and the surprising comfort of keeping this mental link going...

Well— no, surprising isn't right. New, maybe, since they've done this before, but not because they felt like it. Now that this variety of closeness is a choice instead of a live-saving throw... hmm. He likes it more? It's nice.

...And then Lalli is asleep, halfway through Emil wondering what they should do about meals. That's fine too! Emil isn't going to vaguely complain about their new life here while Lalli is asleep, so that's that, as well. Emil considers, like, the side of Lalli's head for a moment; here's another familiar scene, but without Lalli's body being comatose this time...

So, look— Emil is delicate and sentimental, and no one in the world(s) could judge him for it if he maybe shifted slightly towards Lalli, perhaps angling them both just so, perfect for any prickly friends to sleep on his shoulder. No one could possibly judge him for this.

Now, it's Nap Time.]

[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.]