soul_campaign | Decimoseptima ⚜ Roda [May 11, afternoon; video]

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Decimoseptima ⚜ Roda [May 11, afternoon; video]

[For once, Fabiola doesn't look anything remotely resembling cheerful when she turns on her mirror. When she speaks, it becomes very clear why.]

Bumblebee seems to have been returned. I will of course, wait until I am certain he will not be returning, however...

[However, considering that's the third of her friends in the last few weeks, she's not exactly counting on it.]

Regardless, I will be doing the rounds for my patrol if anyone needs me, and to all members of the Watch, I will gladly go where my assistance is needed when I am not on patrol.

[And god help anyone, Guest or otherwise, who gets up to anything while she's out and about today.]

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Not like I have anything better to do for the next few hours.

Alright. Our place is here.

[And directions to the warehouse, though Fabiola is easily visible on the edge of the roof when he gets close enough.]

Did you find anything out about your friend?

[he waves as he approaches, climbing up to join her and pausing for a moment to appreciate the stronger breeze up this high.]

Not specifically, but it sounds like the people in charge here are doing something about it. Hopefully they've got a plan.

[he's making an effort to grin and sound optimistic, but there's an uneasy edge to it.]

[She waves back, and waits until he's settled in to nod at his reply, looking back out over the rest of Death City idly.]

I am sure she will be found soon enough. Whatever people might say about Shibusen, they really do try their best to keep things under control.

[Her smile is small, but reassuring, and she pats his shoulder gently.]

Do not worry, Jack. I am sure she will be fine.

[that little contact is a great comfort and a bit of tension leaks out of him until he's a bit more properly relaxed, half-slumped on the roof edge next to her.]

Thanks. [he can only hope, at least. if shibusen handles this well then who cares what the haters might say, he'll be on their side forever.] ...So, is this where your and your partner live? Pretty cool that you get such a huge place.

Of course.

[She blinks, looking down at the building, and then gives a crooked sort of smile, amused.]

Well, it is rather necessary. Bumblebee is quite large, and I would not have felt right moving someplace he could not also reside. It is a... compromise, of sorts?

Yeah, I guess so. I never had to worry about finding space for more than myself anywhere I decided to crash...

[he leans forward over the edge of the building, getting a better appreciating for the size of the thing. and probably giving fabi a heart attack in the process, but he's always been a bit of a monkey and it's been a long time since he had to worry about falling from great heights.]

'Crash'?

[The colloquialism is momentarily lost on her, until she racks her brain for an answer.]

Oh. Did you always travel alone?

Yeah, more or less. I guess the wind doesn't count?

[he says it lightly, but. the wind counts as far as he's concerned. like he was gonna just count out the only one of had been there for him right from the start, even if it wasn't so strictly a "person".]

If it counts to you then it does.

[Fabiola shrugs- it's probably a strange thing to say, but she doesn't think so. But then Jack is a strange boy, all things considered.]

[he just shrugs, but maybe his smile widens slightly at that answer.]

Either way, not like it needs space to sleep, right? Usually it could just drop me off on a tree branch somewhere and I'd be set for the night.

I cannot imagine trees are very comfortable for sleeping in.

[Because just... branches. Branches everywhere bro. How would you even-?]

Nah, it's fine as long as you find a good branch. Something wide enough to sit on and not too steep an angle. Like, uh...

[he stands up all at once, spinning on a heel to face her so he can gesture an estimation of that sweet spot of tree branch angles of comfort. and it's a fluid movement, born of 300 years of jumping around without fear, knowing the wind would catch him if he happened to fall.

the wind doesn't seem to like him as much here, though, and he keeps forgetting that. he'd been reminded when stumbling a few times during his stay here, but never anything major enough to make the thought stick, and it only occurs to him again now when his foot slips slightly too far over the edge and he staggered backward, careless only for a moment until he remembers too late that nothing's gonna catch him here.

shit.]

[She watches curiously as he hops up, not considering that perhaps he may be overestimating himself here, or that it might be a wise idea to caution him.]

Jack-!

[She's a moment too late in reaching for him, and her sudden sideways-forward lunge almost sends her tumbling after him, and it's all she can do to watch him fall.]

[his own scream kind of drowns out the clatter of wood when he finally hits the ground, and it's hard to tell that anything's changed when, from what he can tell, it seems like he's just laying on his back staring up at the ledge he just fell from. well, at least he's alive.

he can't move, though. no pain, but -- oh shit, if he'd lost his whole immortality thing just to break his neck and become entirely paralyzed...]

[She's not sure, for a moment, whether to be relieved or amused.]

Hold on, I'll be right down!

[She decides to reserve a reaction until she reaches him, and hops up to dash downstairs, making her way out to him and leaning over him, biting her lip a little.]

Well... the good news is that you should be relatively unharmed. The bad news is that I am not too clear on how to help weapons change back to their normal forms.

[something's a little odd about this angle, with her leaning over him like that. but that explains it pretty fast.]

Weapons...? Wait, wait, what just happened?

A self-preservation reaction. It is why, I believe, throwing weapons down stairs seems to work. In order to prevent a serious injury, you have transformed into your weapon form.

[She allows herself a small smile, mouth quirking at the corner.]

Congratulations, I suppose?

Oh. So I'm...an inanimate object right now. Awesome.

[he manages to sound only slightly concerned, at least. yeah, avoided the whole death and/or paralysis thing, but how does he change back.

as if in response to that anxiety, a thin layer of frost spreads over the ground below him wherever the wood touches the concrete.]

Well, in animate in a matter of speaking.

[She reaches out as if to pick him up but hesitates when she sees what's happening to the ground.]

Oh my. Well, it seems as if your weapon ability is quite suited to you, at least.

What? Why, what's happening? What even am I?

[inanimate as far as he's concerned, given there's not much room for movement as a stick on wood lying on the ground.]

You appear to be some kind of staff? And you also appear to be frosting the ground.

[She does pick him up then, holding him at arm's length.]

[a few seconds to make sense of that, extended slightly by the extremely disorienting feeling of being picked up.]

I'm...? Wait, is it a staff with a hook on one end? [because that would be refreshingly familiar, if a bit indirect.]

[A beat, and -]

Oh, yes- as a matter of fact it is. I take it that it is something you are familiar with?

Yeah, it's mine. [a frustrated little flare of cold at that, nowhere near enough to hurt bare fingers, but a drop in temperature enough to be noticeable.] So I only get my staff here for someone else to use? What's with that?

Decimoseptima ⚜ Roda [May 11, afternoon; video]

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