shelter from the sun

"W-w-w-waaant o-o-o-onee w-w-wat?" The Prince asked, sludging forward an imperceptible amount. His grip on conversational logistics wasn't the strongest, and in the dim light she might have meant almost anything. More flowers? Wasps?

Amalia

the shield of safrin

"Would you like a name?" Her voice is soft and gentle, eyes downcast as she wipes off the last of the bike. "So we can call you something... that makes you happy."

Loren's tap on her shoulder makes Amalia turn around, looking up at the summoner as he offers the amulet, replying with a grateful smile and a squeeze of his fingers. Turning back to the Prince, her ears again shut, she extends the object toward the Prince. "Will you touch this? You don't have to touch me, but... It might make you feel better." Hopefully. If he takes it, she will try to channel the healing magic through it, though it likely would have been better to have Loren do so. But the poor man looked about to faint himself when Amalia turned back to him, and she hate to ask for more than he has already given.

someday we'll find what we're looking for

or maybe not

maybe we'll find something much greater

there's light at the edge of the darkness

Seeing as Amalia seemed to have everything under control—and seeing as Loren’s nose plugs were an imperfect guard against the stank—he retreated a few stumbling steps away from the Prince. Even the short distance made the odor more bearable, though revulsion still roiled in the summoner’s gut. Although he was still fully committed to trying to help the creature, the Launceleyn’s patience and tolerance were already running out. However, he wouldn’t leave the baker alone. And truth be told, he was curious to know if the Prince would actually take the amulet, and whether its magic (his magic) would do anything. There was so much they didn’t know, and Loren was reminded once again of how little power and control he had over anything in his life and in this world that still felt strange and new to him.

loren

Coding base by Sky!

"Happ--e?" The Prince repeated, sounding completely bewildered as if the word wasn't even in its vocabulary. And indeed, created as it was, happiness had never been something it had ever been gifted. Looking doubtfully at the amulet, the Prince recoiled further into itself, now appearing like a gelatinous blob. "Ww--w-w-wwhat is it--HrrGGGGGGGG--ff-f-f-for?" The creature asked, clamping down on a burp that bubbled up in its throat.

Amalia

the shield of safrin

"Happy," Amalia repeats softly, her brows furrowed in a mournful frown, aching to look upon the creature and reassure it that it isn't alone. "Have you never been happy? Never felt warm, and... like things were good, in the world?" How long has it been trapped down here, a mess of filth and fear? Did the Voice even give it the ability to feel joy before abandoning it in the dark?

It seems uncertain of the amulet, and Amalia is developing a sense of urgency, the sounds of the Prince overwhelming even without the ability to smell. She can only imagine how Loren is feeling, and so she does not drop her hand as it retreats. "It's for healing." To say it's magic feels like a bad idea, but she isn't sure how else to explain. "It has healing in it. We think it might make you feel good."

someday we'll find what we're looking for

or maybe not

maybe we'll find something much greater

there's light at the edge of the darkness

Although Loren was mostly just feeling woozy and nauseous, even he couldn’t help but feel a little bad for the Prince. If what Amalia was saying was correct, the creature had either never felt or had forgotten how to feel happy, something that the summoner, of all people, could empathize with. However, his healing magic had been rejected. That meant he couldn’t provide the Prince with any more comfort than the baker’s words could. The Launceleyn knew he wasn't capable of communicating anything at that moment (or at least anything helpful) so he just remained silent. If the Prince wouldn’t or couldn’t be healed by the amulet, and didn’t want Loren’s touch, well, then he was completely out of ideas. Maybe Amalia would come up with something brilliant, but if not, they’d have to leave the sad Prince alone in the darkness.

Something the Launceleyn knew all too much about.

loren

Coding base by Sky!

"Nnn.." The Prince begins to respond, before pausing. "I ... dddd---d-d-ddoin't knnn--o---w?" Though they shouldn't have been able to hear such a thing, they both would indeed be able to hear thick and gooey tears slurp down the Prince's cheeks (presumably) to shatter onto the ground. With a frown of uncertainty, wet and gelatinous and full of memories of punishment and pain, the Prince looks at the amulet. "Ff-f-f-f-f-or eat—HUrrgghhhgg—ing?"

Amalia

the shield of safrin

Yes, Amalia can hear the tears, and it's a sound that threatens to break her heart, as unpleasant and mournful as anything she has ever experienced. "Well," she says softly, desperately trying to figure out how to introduce it to the concept of happiness in a way she will understand and feeling woefully inept, "When you ate the moth... it felt good, right? You... liked that, I think. It made you happy."

Her arm is beginning to grow tired from holding out the amulet, but Amalia forces herself not to falter yet. "Not for eating," she says with a soft laugh, shaking her head, eyes still shut. "For holding. Just for a second, then you can give it back. Please?"

someday we'll find what we're looking for

or maybe not

maybe we'll find something much greater

there's light at the edge of the darkness

Oh for crying out loud, this was getting ridiculous. If Loren had believed in the gods—yes, they were real, but that didn’t mean he had to believe in them—he might’ve been driven to praying by this experience. However, he didn’t, and he wasn’t in a particularly hopeful or optimistic mood. Given that Amalia didn’t trust him and had obviously taken point in this endeavor, the summoner was just going to stay where he was, a safe distance away from the Prince and the baker. However, if the Prince didn’t take the amulet soon, the Launceleyn might just take matters into his own hands. Except not literally, because the dumb Prince wouldn’t let Loren do that.

loren

Coding base by Sky!

"f-f-f-elt...." The Prince paused to think. It tried to introspect, but it hadn't been designed with such things in mind, and so it found it incredibly difficult. Instead of finding emotions and insights, it merely felt the rumbling of its stomach, ever and always gassy. In response, the Prince farted dramatically: a wet and loud sound. Startled by both the sound and smell it receded farther back into the corner with a whimper. Uncertain, the Prince stews silently in a cloud of its own noxious gases before its tongue stretches out to take the amulet from Amalia. Not that they can see, but for a moment it almost looks like it is going to eat it, before reaching out to clutch it in a grubby webbed hand. Absolutely nothing happens.

Amalia

the shield of safrin

Happiness seems too difficult a topic to master today, and she can practically feel the anger radiating from Loren. "Well. Would- for now, would you like me to call you Prince, or something else? Moth? Happ? Something different?" She wants the creature to have a choice, but doesn't want to push too hard. Especially since he has finally grabbed the amulet she holds, and Amalia cannot help it: she opens her eyes the smallest peak to see what happens when the magic hits him.

And... Nothing.

Well, it's certainly anticlimactic, and Amalia cannot help the slump of her shoulders as nothing seems to come from the stone. Still she pushes with her will and intention, praying to Vi that somehow the stone will work, will do something, for this poor creature. Closing her eyes again, the girl forces herself to smile as she moves to stand, gently pulling the amulet back. "It's okay. You can keep the flower; next time I'll bring more bugs. Is there anything else you would like? From outside?"

someday we'll find what we're looking for

or maybe not

maybe we'll find something much greater

there's light at the edge of the darkness

As Amalia kept trying to name the Prince, Loren had to work hard not to roll his eyes. Then he remembered that he was blindfolded, no one could see them, and no one was paying attention to him, and he let them rotate in their sockets. While he could understand and almost appreciate her efforts, it seemed there was too big a gap in communication for either of them to really reach the Prince. Then, from the disappointed tone in the baker’s voice and the words she spoke, the Launceleyn gathered that their efforts to heal had been stymied. At this point, he figured it would be best for them to regroup and come back another day, which it seemed Amalia was suggesting as well. Now that the summoner knew about the Prince’s smells and sounds and dislike of being seen or touched, Loren could prepare for their next meeting accordingly. If there would even be a next meeting.

loren

Coding base by Sky!

The Prince had never been asked to make decisions before, and it found the entire process horrifying. It didn't associate names with the sort of affection and familiarity that Amalia did, only with mockery and pain. "Nnn--n-n-n--" The Prince groaned, then suddenly went eerily quiet, and then— "L-L---L-L-IAR" He bellowed moistly. "ttt-t-t-rickER" One of its many eyes had seen Amalia's lashed flutter open, attuned to seeing in the dark, and spied the onyx hue of her iris against her pale skin. "NNNGYAH!" The amulet was thrown at Amalia, hard, from the Prince's tongue. With wet squelching sounds, the monstrous creature shlucked itself into the shadows, trailing behind it a mixture of ooze and tears.

Amalia

the shield of safrin

Mort, it saw her moment of weakness. Eyes opening fully in alarm and confusion, Amalia winces as the amulet strikes her squarely on the jaw, rubbing at the bony prominence that will surely bloom into a bruise. "I'm sorry!" she exclaims, averting her gaze, guilt and revulsion rolling in her stomach. "Please, don't-"

But the creature is gone, and perhaps it's for the best, because even with her avian lack of smell Amalia is beginning to feel distinctly lightheaded. Picking up the amulet from the ground, the rises unsteadily, following Loren toward the mouth of the cave. "Thank you for trying," the girl murmurs to the summoner, truly appreciative, a wry grimace furrowing her brows. "I wish that had gone better, but at least we tried."

someday we'll find what we're looking for

or maybe not

maybe we'll find something much greater