event: a gentle festival

[thestewards]

we're all just working pieces trying to fit somewhere
We wander 'round in circles and we talk in squares

► The OOC plotting post for this event can be found here.

► Direct all questions to the mods at this link.

► All NPCs except for Queen Fayura can be met at this event. Use their top-levels in the plotting post if you'd like a thread with them for this event. For your convenience, you can reach out here: Allairavar, Verim, Loren, Niall, Grejor, and Raya. They may choose to wander into your threads should you not plan anything out with them, too.

PARTY PLANNING
Dawn arrives and brings with it another group of Strangers. Unlike the first group, you wake to a comfortable bed and cheery birdsong. Unlike the second group, you are expected. As you rise, a vase with spring flowers appears on the table beside your bed. Tucked beneath the vase, you find a message of welcome inviting you to join the Queen and her residence for breakfast.

Following directions given by footmen throughout the residence’s winding halls, you make your way toward breakfast, only to find that breakfast is a beautiful disaster.

Maids and footmen rush around you, choreographed by a red haired witch standing on a chair in the middle of the entry hall. She wears an apron and a look of fierce concentration. Beside her, a list floats in the air. Pinned to her hair, her Tiger Eye Jewel flashes and swirls with power. You suspect you should just sneak out, but she’s too observant.

“You there!”

You freeze. Maybe you had a mother with eyes in the back of her head who always knew where you were. Maybe that was a teacher or some other kind of mentor. Regardless, you know this voice. You know this tone. This is a person harried and pressed, and she probably doesn’t care that you haven’t eaten breakfast yet.

“Yes, you! Stranger!”

You turn toward her and abruptly find your arms full of banners. Closer inspection will reveal each flag sewn to the cord bears a different symbol: one for the Guilds (a hexagon with circles at each joint), the Ebon Council (a pair of Jewels side by side), and Fayura’s Court (a strange, spiraling spear against a mountain peak); a sun and a moon; a cloud flush with rain and lightning; and a sprouting plant.

“Make sure those get hung on the eaves outsi—no, I haven’t seen the Lady, Carlisle, but if you—”

A Blood male has distracted her, but you’re left with the distinct impression that if you don’t hang these banners, the Head Housekeeper will hunt you down (you would be correct). Not to worry: you’re not the only Stranger living in the residence, and it takes you little time to locate someone else with an equally bomb-blasted look on their face to help you help the residence prepare for the spring festival! There are flags to be hung, simple breads to be baked, stalls to be built in the Bazaar, and so much more. Your hands work, and so you work.


HOPE BLOOMS ETERNAL
At sundown, the festival begins in earnest: people take to the streets in every section of the city, pouring into the Old Town Bazaar with rosy cheeks and broad smiles. The spring festival will last for the next six days. Three days to celebrate, and three days to work.

All around the city, banners hang from and between homes and businesses. Some fluttering banners bear flags emblazoned with only the Guilds’ symbol or the Council’s or the Court’s, and there are far more Guild banners than any other—a result of the Strangers’ providing support to the Guilds no doubt. But mixed among them are flags bearing both the Queen’s mountain, too, just not as many, and the only place the Council’s flags hang are over Blood homes.

As you make your way through the Bazaar, you hear…

A young landen man: I’ve heard the Queen is going to honor the Earth Mother and Father Sky during planting in a few days, and—
His companion, an older woman: The Blood honor only death and their Darkness. What does she care for our beliefs?

A Blood farmer: …kind of gift. Don’t quite know what to make of a Queen giving anything.
A landen farmer: Anything to help the crops grow. The Guilds mean well, but the land is overworked.

An excited little girl: —ride the unicorn, mommy! There’s a unicorn and a dragon and a centaur and a—

Near the pavilion at the heart of the Bazaar, the landen Guilds have erected technological wonders. A carousel of glittering bronze and metal lights up the night with rainbow colors. Music spills out of it, cheerful and bright as its three rings turn in lazy revolutions. Unicorns and dragons and centaurs and mermaids stand as mounts for the young and old. Nearby, the Elektriline Guild prepares a light show, projecting fantastical shapes in dazzling colors on the sides of buildings and into the night sky itself. Around the park to the south of the Bazaar, the Transport Guild has set up a racing track for unicycles and tricycles.

Booths with games line the streets. Knock down the glass bottles! Throw the ring around the spoke! Win prizes to dazzle your loved ones and delight your children!

While food has certainly been scarce, the bakeries and charcuteries have brought out their best fare at surprisingly reasonable prices. This is a time to celebrate the end of winter and the beginning of spring, and celebrate the city will.

While the Blood dress in nice clothes, the landens bring out costumes. As is tradition, some dress as Father Sky, wearing crowns of gold and flowing robes of white. Others cloak themselves in the vestments of Mother Earth: wearing costumes of green and brown, painting vines over their faces to disguise themselves and crowning themselves in garlands of crocuses and tulips. Whispers through the Bazaar say the Queen is among them, disguised as Mother Earth.


SOWING THE FUTURE
The fourth morning of the festival, the entire city rises with the dawn. Over the past three days, a strange rumor wound its way through Draega: Fayura will join the planting to give a gift unique to the Queens of the Blood.

Members of the Ebon Council and the Guilds organize groups, directing the bodies of the entire city to go to this farm or that as they step out from behind Draega’s tall, protective walls. But before you are dismissed to help till the land or plant grain seeds, you join a larger crowd at a nearby farm. The Blood airwalk, standing above the landen crowds to gain a better view.

At the head of a recently tilled field, Queen Fayura stands with a landen farmer. He grasps his hat, wringing it fiercely in his hands as her Steward, Master of the Guard, and Consort stand guard behind her. Dressed in greens and browns, crowned in a garland of crocuses that drips dried stalks of wheat down her hair, she kneels before a bucket. She calls in a knife. When she speaks, she doesn’t raise her voice, but Craft projects it across the assembled onlookers. “Blood sings to blood. This is a gift: freely offered,” she says. “Freely given.” Bright red blood blooms across her palm as she drags the blade through skin. Vanishing the knife, she closes her fist and squeezes, allowing the blood to fall into the bucket of water and mix with it.

Her Consort heals her wound when she holds out her hand, and then he steps back. She rises, picking up the bucket and taking hold of the ladle on the ground beside it. Her voice lifts in song. Though the language is unrecognizable, the melody is beautiful and full of the vibrant hope of spring. She sings as she walks along the furrows, sprinkling bloodied water on the land. Blood and Strangers alike feel the pull of magic as something in the earth itself unfurls, shuddering awake at the call of the Queen’s blood.

For the next three days, nearly every man, woman, and child in Draega assists with the planting. Children do small, simple tasks, and the older children watch over the younger ones. The adults drag plows through the warming land and spread seeds in the furrows the plows create. Queen Fayura visits each field in turn, and planting doesn’t begin until she’s sprinkled her water over the earth. Throughout the day, her vibrant song echoes around the city, and a few Blood girls, too young to yet wear a Jewel, take up the song and hum along with it.

You would do well to help the farmers. You may not have a strong arm or strong back, but there’s planting to be done and people to organize, feed, and care for.


AIR TIME
Whether you catch the news on a Far-caster in the city or you’re spinning the dial on your own device, you’ll hear…

etiquette with evandra and aren
[Evandra's voice is a little bit rough and a little bit husky, the kind of voice that gives bad ideas to young men and headaches to fathers.] …do we make of a Warlord Prince’s reaction to his Queen’s blood?

[Aren, whose voice is typically chipper and bright, sounds today much more seriously than usual.] It’s a dangerous thing. Elemental, you might say. Like a storm. Every Prince is dangerous when his Lady’s blood spills.

[Evandra:] So, are we in danger when the Queen does whatever ritual she’s doing?

[Aren:] No. The Blood put great importance on, well, blood. It’s the memory’s river. Power sings in blood. It carries strength and Craft. I’ve never seen a Queen do anything like this before, but her Princes—and her court—treat it like ceremony. And it probably is.

the weather
[A soft-spoken man’s voice rumbles out of the Far-caster. He’s pleasant to listen to, with a soothing cadence to his voice.] …continued rains with intermittent sunshine over the next few days as the days grow steadily warmer. Remember that rains coming out of Askavi are dangerous to your health, and salves for lesions from exposure can be purchased from the Medicos at…

the news
[Garret speaks at his brisk pace, hurried and harried as though he has too much to say and not enough time to say it.] A new development in the story of the young landen man who shot and killed Councilwoman Vera last month: the Strangers have influenced the Queen to bring together a Tribunal not of other Queens—

[Wilt, as usual, is put upon and nasally.] As though there are many of those to go around.

[Garret, continuing as though Wilt didn’t interrupt him:] —but of the landen man’s peers, both landen and Blood.

[Wilt, sighing:] That’s correct, Garret. It seems this Tribunal of three landens and three Blood will listen to the young man’s account, as well as the stories of other witnesses, and determine a suitable punishment. This will be presented to the Queen, and she will carry out the sentence.

[Garret:] Looking now to the warming weather and what that means for trade with the mercenary settlements outside of Draega—

Comments

causality strikes back (for emil & lalli)

[garmr]

[There is a rare hour of the night Guts could be glimpsed at the Festival, or at least somewhat near the festival. Strapped in full armor and gear, he is most definitely not dressed for a party. In fact, he is hovering well outside the crowd, making his way through the less populated alleyways to avoid it as best he could.

Weaving between the back houses of busy bakers and charcuteriers, he wanders the streets like a large, scowling shadow. The man clearly hates fun, but maybe the fun simply needed to find him.]

[illequipped]

[Are Emil and Lalli fun, necessarily? They are short and easy to bother, which is fun for somebody, but maybe not anybody involved here. What they're even doing to cross paths with Guts is a mystery - perhaps taking A Shortcut to get to the best snacks - but regardless—

Rounding a corner, Emil at least completely fails to notice there's someone there (maybe Guts should wear more visible armor!!) and quite literally walks face-first into actual armor. That's it, the night is ruined. Is he bleeding??]

Wha—uhhhh... [this guy is Hyuge!!]

[ilves]

[Lalli is just as distracted by the festival's... everything as Emil is, but he's, uh, definitely the more coordinated half of this dynamic duo; like, he sees Emil slam into something and he instinctively jerks to a stop, one hand going out to grab the back of his dumb friend's shirt. Does he have to yank Emil back from whatever this is...

...Hmm. One look up at this giant person convinces Lalli that, yes, he probably should pull Emil back his way? All while he continues silently blinking up at one of the largest people he's ever seen, like it's tooootally his fault that Emil wasn't looking where he was going. Hello, Guts... sorry about these two tiny idiots...]

[garmr]

[A more considerate person may think to ask if they were alright. Unfortunately, that would require talking, and talking was the exact opposite reason Guts was skulking around this part of the Festival.

He gives them both a sharp glance from his remaining eye, and determines Emil wasn't bleeding badly enough to merit the question. He would have brushed past them and ended their interaction there, except the impact also dislodged something from one of his many leather packs: a gray, egg-like stone - normally quite well secured - rolling out towards Emil's boot.

Better give him his egg back, buddy.]

[illequipped]

[In the past thirty seconds Emil has walked into a living mountain, been yanked around by the back of his shirt, and been glared at!! by that same living mountain! Rude! He rubs at his face with the back of his hand, just checking up on whether or not he's dying from donking his face into solid metal...]

Ummm, sorry?

[You okay up there, big guy?? He gives Lalli a Look over his shoulder, like, he truly has no idea what to do with this interaction At All. The best plan is to turn around and flee, but instead he ducks down to pick up this... this egg thing.

Hey, one question, what the hell? He could hand this back or he could hold it up to show Lalli, and guess which one he's doing??? Look at this Weird Egg!]

[ilves]

[Ah, yes—things are obviously very puzzling when Emil feels the need to look to Lalli, a socially inept idiot, for a hint as to what to do. Like Lalli knows what's going on here? Please. He just gives Emil a blank sort of look, making sure Emil's face looks more or less okay before before his friend bends down to scoop up... whatever that is. A... rock. Huh. Amazing.

Still, when Emil holds it up, Lalli obligingly leans forward the slightest bit to better study its weird shape. Well, rocks come in all shapes and sizes, Emil; Lalli is considering actually saying as much when the rock, you know. Suddenly cracks open an eye to look right up at the people currently scrutinizing it.

...Now, Lalli's seen all sorts of weird things in post-apocalyptic Scandinavia, but—nope! Nope, nope, nope. Things that blink back at you... are normally very bad indeed, which is why Lalli quickly reaches out to slap the thing out of Emil's hand before it can, like, open its mouth and bite him. It's instinct! He's just trying to be a good scout and protect his dumb friend!

Anyway, watch that blinking rock-egg-thing... soar over into the busy street. Goodbye, tiny monster.]

[garmr]

[The confused staring between Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum over there was annoying enough, but Lalli sending the Behelit flying over his head gets Guts' face to contort into a tiny glimpse of real anger. Mouth curled, teeth bared, brow knit together and all. Luckily, it immediately deflates into panic as his eyes continue to follow the arc of the stone and find it bouncing towards the crowd. Bye, Becchi!]

Hey!

[A rough voice bellows from his lungs, catching the startled attention of a light-jeweled adolescent reaching over to pick up the little egg-rock. At this point, Guts has to ask himself: Why was it always kids? Every time?

Of course, the kid starts to run off, very much not interested in giving up his cool new rock. Even less alluring was the idea of sticking around with a Stranger that was huge, pissed off, and wearing more sharp objects than he had fingers. Whirling around, Guts' cloak billows behind him rather dramatically as he bolts into the crowd. It looks like he is going to topple down every wayward person in his way to get that thing back.

For a guy wearing over fifty pounds of equipment, that armor didn't seem to slow him down much.]

[illequipped]

[Indiscriminate yeet count: 1

Or: there goes the egg rock thing, right out of Emil's hand and into the distance. He watches it with a kind of muted horror- not because he cares much for this egg with eyes that moves, but because this big guy with the armor is probably going to kill them for doing this. Oops! But first-]

Ew— I can't believe I touched that!

[Gross!!! He's wiping his hand off on his shirt like a real adult when the big guy suddenly runs off after his egg thing. Hmm... alright... you know--]

Lalli, I think it's probably kiiind of our fault if he runs over anyone?

[sadly..........they have to help]

[ilves]

[Glare at Lalli all you like, Guts! He knows that he did the right thing, which is why he just takes a step back... and watches this weirdo charge away. Oh? Problem... solved? Problem solved. The rock is gone, the angry-looking man is gone, and Lalli is resolved to erase both from his mind as he watches Emil try to scrub his hand clean. This priss...

...This priss and his empathy! Gosh!]

Why? It's their fault for not moving. [A quick, pointed glance back over at his friend before he adds:] He's easy to see.

[Buddy, he's just sayin'. Anyway, Emil is probably going to give him one of those annoying looks of his, and tell him to, like, care about the children running around out there, so—fine! After a few stubborn seconds, Lalli turns to lead Emil into the crowd—and at a rather brisk pace. Where you at, you giant man... these two tiny idiots are hot on your trail...]

[garmr]

[Both of them would find a wake of destruction where the mercenary had broken through the crowd.

A furious baker trying to get his display table turned back upright. A young landen man with a plate of sausage and ham spilled on the white robes of his rendition of Father Sky. A Blood couple floating in the air, still a little shaken from their near-Guts experience. They'd at least gone airborne quickly enough to save their drinks.

At the end of the trail was Guts himself, his height making him quite easy to spot in the distance. He had barreled through a game stall, knocking over all the bottles, and had an armored boot rested up on the table. He stares determinedly upwards at the child with the Behelit in his grimy little hands. That was his Revenge Egg, damnit!]

Come on, kid - !

[The sad fact of the matter was that this tiny child knew more Craft than Guts did - even with a lighter jewel - and had cleverly used it to float well out of his reach. Well, it's not like he can just shoot the kid down with arrows. Instead, he looks around for something to start climbing on.]

[illequipped]

[Uhhh... This sure is a scene the dreadful duo is trekking into, in the wake of Big Guy's, um, everything. Emil doesn't know what to do with himself; he picks up a sign that got knocked over and stands it up against a food stall that's standing at about a 60 degree angle, like, is this helping?? Is that anything at all?

But okay, he picked up the egg thing, which made Lalli smack it, which made Big Guy destroy a city block apparently!!— so he looks at Lalli, imploringly.]

Can you please get that kid before he breaks them in half, or something? Please.

[A kid, Lalli!! A baby!!!!

Emil is going to stay back here for a bit and stand up more signs... pick up some sausages... he'll be along.]

[ilves]

[As soon as Lalli spots that child just, like, bobbing through the air, he knows that Emil is going to insist upon doing something? He knows it, and yet, when Emil looks his way and asks him to do the heavy lifting here...]

Mrh.

[That's an "I don't want to!" and an "It's not my problem," all rolled into one, but... well, while Lalli doesn't necessarily like children, he doesn't want to see a child snapped in half like a twig. Plus Emil would, you know, totally cry, which is why Lalli pushes past a few onlookers and approaches the giant who probably-definitely hates him. Lalli is obviously wary—hence him standing a few feet away—but Lalli obviously isn't afraid for his life. Look at this stupid man, outwitted by a kid...]

Use Craft? Or go back there, [he says, all while helpfully gesturing back to where Emil is slowly picking up all of the JUNK Guts managed to destroy.] You're making everything worse.

[He's cruisin' for a bruisin'. Anyway, Guts, please do take a few steps back, because Lalli needs this child to stop panicking.]

[garmr]

[Well geez, he would use Craft, but he totally sucks at it!! If Guts could magically recall his Behelit back he would have done that in an instant!

Instead, Guts is totally testing the sturdiness of the bottle table to see if he can use it as a jumping board. Sadly for him, the thing looks like it would definitely split in half if he tried. And he may not notice it yet, but a few of those onlookers were starting to look a bit angry at the mess. The startled airborne child didn't help.

He does notice Lalli, though, and hesitantly steps down from the table.]

You-

[Slapping boy from the alley. He should hate this tiny man for causing the mess to begin with, but honestly, he only manages to look a bit disgruntled. If he had a plan to get the child down, Guts wasn't going to get in his way. He was entirely aware that other folks had a better handle of all this weird magic than he did.]

[illequipped]

[Emil sure is back here picking up junk. His brief conversation with Lalli and the two of them showing up on Guts' heels seems to have a few of these honestly very reasonably upset food vendors convinced that he is somehow in control of anything happening here?? Or at least he's the smartest choice to try to talk to, which is correct, but it does mean that Emil has an armful of somewhat ruined food that he's trying to shlep back and forth while people demand to know what's going on.

So he's a little frazzled already, and stuck over here with the junk and the complaints a bit longer, so Destructo-Man and Lalli over there better not make this worse...!!]

[ilves]

[Lalli remains where he is for a moment longer, making sure that Guts isn't about to leap on top of the table before he finally walks over to peer up at this child. He's not good with kids! He can tell that this one is scared, but he neither knows nor cares how to deal with that; the only thing he does know to do is point at the table and issue a short, simple command:]

Down.

[Like he's dealing with some type of dog! It's no wonder the child a) shakes his head and b) tries to float a bit higher, but nuh-uh-uh; Lalli makes a quiet noise—a tiny hiss?—before using basic Craft to... well, yank him back down. He's never had to use Craft like this? His handling of it is a bit, mmm, imprecise, but the important thing is that very surprised child is only hovering, like, a foot above the ground instead of over everyone's heads. Progress.

Anyway, since Lalli doesn't want to touch that cursed rock... watch him continue glaring at this brat as he points back to Guts. Give him the egg, please and thank you! Do not yeet it back into the crowd, even though that it looks like the egg thief is... seriously considering it...]

[garmr]

[The boy is looking up at him with wide eyes, and Guts is unsure how to make himself look less threatening after chasing him down the length of the street the way he did. Maybe he should have tried a little harder to avoid knocking over so many salami plates and signs.

He tries to speak more calmly:]

Alright, kid. You want to give that back, or do I gotta take it?

[The egg thieving boy just flinches when he steps closer. Man, he was really not doing a good job in front of all these watching people. Maybe dressing like a medieval death trap wasn’t the best way to gain a child’s trust. He really doesn’t have the patience to try and make friends though. With a resigned huff, he reaches down to grab the Behelit, only for the boy to open his mouth…

...and let out a high-pitched wail. Yikes.

Don’t mind if he just, plucks it out of his tiny hands as gently as someone like Guts can manage.]

[illequipped]

[In Emil's corner, he's not doing too bad cleaning up the HORRIBLE MESS that SOMEONE made, as much as some of these dishes and displays can't be saved. This block is going to be a little... ugly until tomorrow night, but he's helping these people salvage their livelihood quite literally in some cases. And he has about 6 new apologies on rotation for everyone who talks to him...

...And then he and everyone else around hears the child start screaming, which gets Emil's attention more urgently than the free sample toothpicks he's painstakingly picking up from the ground. He gives some rambling explanation about my-friend-needs-a-hand this and the-big-one that, and hurries over only to find that Guts did this and Lalli is innocent. Probably.

Still—] What is going on? Why is he still floating?!

[Did you even finish step one!!!]

[ilves]

[The child screams and Lalli instinctively covers his poor, defenseless ears, because oh! My God! He's standing so close! Forget everything that led them to this moment; this right here is the true nightmare scenario, which is why he shoots Guts the sharpest possible look. You fool...

But ah, here comes Emil! Lalli glances back his way, catching that last (silly) question and answering it with the briefest of shrugs. The child is still floating... because he wants to float? Duh? And because the cursed rock's owner is both big and stupid, but if it's really that big of a deal... hmph. He reluctantly removes one hand from the side of his head, reaches out to place his hand on this baby's shoulder, and gingerly pushes him right back down to bump against the ground. Does this child like this? No. Does Lalli care? Not really... until the child, you know, lets out another piercing shriek. uGH.]

Pssh!

[That's Lalli speak for Shut UP! Anyway, that hand is now going right back over his ear as he goes back to glaring at Guts, because he is... over this...]

[garmr]

[The child points at the Behelit in Guts' hand as soon as Lalli lets go of him, finally falling on his rump as his jewel-fueled floating runs out of steam.]

I found it first! It's mine!

[Cool. Guts is going to slowly put the egg back in his pack now, shuffling it into a more secure spot. Sorry, kiddo. He's seen enough child apostles to last him a lifetime. With the arrival of Emil, he takes a read of the crowd around him. That sure was a lot of eyes on him, and that usually didn't mean anything good.

Glancing back, he sees the grumpy landen owner meticulously start picking the bottles he knocked over and set them back in place. Hm.]

Sorry about the mess.

[He leaves exactly two coins from his stipend on the stand where all the bottles were being stacked. That covers all the damages, right? Hope you have a better apology for everyone, Emil.]

[illequipped]

[Oh my god, this is the nightmare scenario. Emil puts his hands on Lalli's shoulders to kind of... steer him away from screaming children, part one of his Damage Control Plan. Yeah, this method of handling it earned a solid 6/10.]

Thank you, Lalli... I've got it now, I think.

[Now as for the rest of this, uh... Well, Guts' two coins are just embarrassing. Emil sighs.]

Uhhhh— [UHHHH!! He's been left to hang, what the hell!! He glances around for something he can do that's not completely terrible and settles for shuffling over to the upset little boy on the ground to help him up and speak quietly to him, maybe about how Guts is a horrible man with a horrible egg that, really, no one should want! How about a nice cake or something instead!

The child looks like he's going from indignant to on the verge of sloppy tears, now that someone is actually trying to sympathize with him. Emil will handle emotions, you two please pick up some plates or something.]

[ilves]

[Lalli is turned away, and so away Lalli goes... because like hell he wants to stand anywhere near this blubbering child. He'll just, you know, push past more people to go stand beside one of these destroyed stalls. There's so much junk left for Emil to pick up! He kicks a piece of a broken plate over to the side, hands still clamped over his ears as he takes in all of this... mess. He's going to be watching Emil clean for the rest of the night... and maybe help him, but still...

But, uh, where does that giant think he's going? Lalli spots him moving away from the corner of his eye, and while it doesn't hurt his feelings... well, again: there's so much junk left to pick up, which is why he leaps over more porcelain shards and hurries after this horrible man. Hey! You! Yes, you. Lalli reaches out to, like, grab that cloak with one hand and point back at all of that carnage with the other, because listen—]

You can't leave.

[Go clean up after yourself, punk! Lalli has a list of food booths he has yet to hit up, and this is really messing up his plans!]

[garmr]

[Alright. Child safe. Apology given. Money left for destroying people’s stuff. Typically, the next Black Swordsman thing to do is to disappear mysteriously into the night the same way he came. He was ready to wipe his hands clean of this mess and let the two idiots that started it handle the clean-up.

Except, while he was mid-stride away from the watching crowd, he feels something tugging at his cloak. Guts looks back, brows creased with annoyance, and his gaze slowly lowers down until he finds Lalli grabbing his clothes. He can’t leave, huh?

Right. As if he was going to listen to those two after they slapped his Behelit into a crowd of people. As far as he was concerned, maybe this’ll teach them and the brat to keep their hands off his stuff. His lip curls up and he gives a resounding - ]

Tch.

[Sorry, Emil. Unless the boys have some other way to convince him to stay and help, Guts is going to continue marching on ahead.

Watch him leave, friends. Watch him.]

[illequipped]

[Oh no he doesn't!! Emil looks up from comforting this now crying menace child to watch this valiant attempt to get Guts to stay play out, and, huh... it's not working. Who would have thought that a tiny twig of a boy couldn't stop someone the size of a small tank. Surely, this was the least likely end to that try.

But that's so! Rude! So Emil, one hand still on the kid's head to stop him running- or floating- away again, reaches over to Guts' pitiful two coins...

He grabs just one, promises he will get it back, and yeets it as hard as he can at the back of Guts' retreating head. Get BACK here!!!]

You made this mess!

[ilves]

[The important thing, Emil, is that Lalli kind of tried to stop this destructive man from running away. ...Kind of. So when Guts just, you know, ignores the cloak-pulling and continues along his merry way, Lalli is highly annoyed... but really, what's he supposed to do here? Use Craft to drag him back to the scene of the crime? Lalli doesn't have a death wish.

But Emil, apparently, does. Lalli glances back his way, taken aback by that surprisingly good aim, before looking back up at this nearby giant. First of all? He didn't do that. Second of all? Well, since Emil obviously doesn't want to let this go...]

You did. [Lalli even helpfully points back to all of that destruction, just in case this man's tiny brain has already forgotten all about it.] Go fix it.

[Right now!!]

[garmr]

[They won’t need much help convincing people that Guts is a horrible, horrible man. First, he masterfully tilts his head away from the incoming coin, denying Emil his well-deserved catharsis as it whizzes past his ear.

Second, he stops in his tracks, finds the daring coin-thrower in the crowd, and fixes on him the kind of deadass cold glare he reserves as a final warning. Was he actually going to indulge Emil on his impending death wish? No, of course not. But he did look like he was considering it, mainly so he wouldn’t get more coins thrown at his head.]

Piss off.

[And with that, he turns the corner of the alley and slinks out of sight.]