Late Hour Visions and the Mystery Blanket [open]

[Armandeus]

Dear Eru, the kitchen was cold at a little after one o'clock in the morning! If the plates could be spelled to stay warm then why couldn't the same be applied to the stone flooring?

Such were the asinine thoughts that flowed through the mind of one Armandeus Valandil as he lay sprawled ungracefully on the kitchen floor behind his island counter. It was ironic, really, for an elf that had fire magick's running through his veins to be subjected to the cold like this, but as he shook and shivered underneath a thin blanket Armandeus wasn't really seeing the humor of the situation.

Was it any surprise that it had been another vision to put him here like this? Swift, silent, it had struck without warning and laid him out almost before he'd known what'd hit him in the first place. This was the third vision like this and though he would never admit it out loud to anyone, Armandeus found it to be frightening. Imagine going about your day one minute and laying on the floor the next, weakened and gasping with the feeling that your body was being split in two. It was a sensation Armandeus didn't recommend even as he was horrified to find it was becoming commonplace for himself.

It was times like these when he forced himself to focus past the nausea, the aches and dear Eru, the cold! that he found himself thinking of his mother. For years Armandeus had seen firsthand the toll welding the Second Sight caused - the way it gradually turned a healthy, vibrant woman into a raving, half mad shell of what she had once been. Unlike his visions that focused primarily on a traumatic past that he wanted nothing more than to forget, his mother had seen the future. Just what that future had held, however, she never revealed. It was something Armandeus found himself wondering of often, especially in moments like these when he was too weak to even sit up; was this what she had seen for him? Such a dangerous question . . . with the possibility of answers numbering more than the stars in the sky. Loath as he was to admit it, in the end, some questions were better left unanswered.

Time passed with a snail's pace as the images of his mother with her sea-green hair and eyes just as purple as his slowly faded away to leave Armandeus blinking in surprise at the ceiling. How long had he been laying here? He could feel stiffness beginning to form in his limbs from the prolong to the hard floor and from the chill that hung in the air he would have to guess it had been several hours already. It seemed the old adage was true - time flies even when you're not having fun.

At any rate, things could have been worse. Considering some of the last visions had left him in a coma for nearly a month, and the one before had very well nearly killed him, things definitely could have been much, much worse than simply being stuck on a cold floor. Besides, if he truly wanted to look on the bright side of things he could note that he wasn't stuck in his mind this time and that alone was enough to make the elf grin into the darkness.

Despite the cold and the aches, and lulled by the soft, steady humming of the kitchen's various appliances Armandeus slipped away into a dreamless sleep. .

At first he wasn't sure what had woken him but slowly it began to seep through the haze covering his mind that he wasn't shivering anymore. Where the thin blanket had been when he dozed off had been replaced with a thick comforter magically spelled to stay warm. The question of where it'd come from crossed the elf's mind, but after being surrounded by cold for so long the warmth was such a blessing he could dredge up the energy to care where it'd came from. It was in this content state that Armandeus found he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and in the end gave in to it. His body needed the rest and the mystery of where the blanket had came from could wait until morning. . .

[Telguest]

((Sorry it took me so long to get to this. November and then Christmas preparations and all.))

Venis

A long stroll in a familiar direction carried the red-haired vampire Goddess towards a place she had called her home away from home for a little over a year. The sound of gravel under her steps halted when she stilled in her movements to reach a free hand to her stomach. This action was followed by a furrow of her brow and a small shake of her head.

Now it was true that nausea was a regular part of her life. She had grown accustomed to it over the last couple of hundred years. But when she was in the proximity to severe emotions or pain, it was amplified. And it was those times when she had a difficult time dealing. A quick glace of her immediate vicinity yielded no results in her quary as to who was having an issue at the moment. For there was no one about, at least not within her line of sight, which was rather vast.

In most cases, when she felt someone's emotions or pain to this extreme, she was able to pinpoint the source straight away. But for some reason, this pain was a mystery to her. Another shake of her head before ginger steps began to again carry her towards her destination. But the nearer she got to the Inn, the worse she felt.

Just as she was ascending the wooden steps to the front door of the Inn, the sickly feeling lessened to a nearly tolerable level. But she couldn't shake the uneasiness of not knowing why she could feel someone, yet not know who that someone was. She crossed the threshold of the Inn and moved towards the bar.

It was of no surprise to her that the bar was empty. After all, it was too early for most of the diurnal and too late for the nocturnal. A quick glance to her watch told her that she was early for the time that Armandeus usually arrived to start breakfast. And he was who she was there to see.

Her stomach was still a little more distressed than usual. She was rather confused by this. But there was nothing more she could do than she had already done. At least nothing morally proper. So the best she could do for the moment was hope for some saltine crackers.

There was a soft creak from her leather pants as she moved to sit at the bar. The small leather clutch she carried was set upon the bar. She opened the clutch and peered inside. She had not put any little packets of crackers in there. Another small creak was heard as she leaned forward to see if there were any crackers on the other side of the bar. None.

Raising from the bar stool, she pulled her leather vest down in the back as it had lifted when she sat down and then lifted even more when she had leaned over the bar. Once all her clothing was back in place, she headed for the door to the kitchen. After all, there was sure to be some crackers in the kitchen, right? And Armandeus wouldn't mind her getting some for herself? She was willing to pay for them.

Clicking heels from her six inch stiletto's could be heard by anyone in ear shot as she moved through the door. And standing at her current height of six foot eight, thanks to those heels, her frame was hard to miss. Even if she was clad in black leather. So there was no sneaking up on anyone. She wasn't trying to mask her presence in any way.

A few steps into the door brought her gaze to a mass on the floor. Upon a second, lingered, glance, she realized that it was Armandeus himself. He looked to be sleeping. But how could he possibly be comfortable upon the floor like that? Venis moved to his side and knelt down to check on him.

He was breathing, that was plain to see. He didn't appear to be in too much distress. But then something dawned upon her. Could it have been Armandeus' pain that she had felt moments before? She wasn't usually in-tune to elves. They did not usually acknowledge her as a deity. But she had once resided within these walls. Once sworn to protect those who also resided within. That protection did not end simply because she moved.

A gentle touch to his shoulder and a slight shake was given. In a soft voice she spoke at little above a whisper. "Armandeus, Ar, wake up please." She wanted to be sure that he was ok. If he wanted to remain sleeping upon the floor, she would allow him to. After all, she had no right to tell him what to do, he had free will. But she couldn't just ignore him and pretend he wasn't there on the floor. Even if he was under a blanket looking rather snug and warm.

[Armandeus]

Like all, Armandeus had his quirks and eccentricities but none quite stuck out, or stuck in his craw, quite like being awakened from a sound sleep - even if that sleeping place was the floor. It was just one of the many leftovers of his days in a cell; of being awakened abruptly, and harshly, at all hours of the night only to be allowed to fall asleep and have the cycle start again. It was a cruel cycle, but effective in ensuring disorientation and weakness among the prisoners.

In any case, unlike some of his more prominent ones, this quirk of being awakened was not one that was well known which often resulted in the biting off of anyone's head who had the unfortunate luck to try waking the elf.

Luckily for Venis' sake Armandeus was exhausted. It took a surprising amount of energy to have a vision, even a quick one, and even for all his natural elven healing abilities he simply couldn't shake the burnout that followed. That tiredness, coupled with the warmth and comfort of the blanket meant the elf was sleeping pretty well by the time Venis came into the kitchen. Under normal circumstances the elf would have heard her long before she could enter the room instead of laying vulnerable on the floor but alas, it was not to be.

At first the gentle touch and slight shake went sailing right on by the elf's awareness, but at the sound of his voice being uttered something shifted within his tired mind and caused sleep glazed purple eyes to flutter open. "Just a few more minutes, Elessar.." He mumbled and shifted to turn over. . . Crack! Only to end up bumping his head into the bottom of the cabinet behind him!

"Aiii..." Groaning, Armandeus pushed his way into a sitting position as he brought a hand up to rub at his head. Well, at least he was awake! Which meant he could now see who'd awakened him in the first place. Glancing up he stared, then blinked, then tried backing up into that cabinet. "...Venis?" Dear Eru, how hard had he hit his head!?

[Telguest]

Venis

Venis removed her hand from the shoulder of the elf after speaking his name. Both hands were resting upon her knees as she was knelt so low to the floor that a slight lean back would have her sitting upon that same cold floor.

When Armandeus spoke to Elessar, Venis covered her mouth with one hand to stifle a giggle. But then when he went to roll over. *Crack* And a sudden sharp and deep intake of air brought an audible sound from the Goddess.

But Armandeus made a groaning sound as he moved to sit up. So at least he had not knocked himself unconscious. While one hand remained on her knee, the other moved to behind him, yet she did not touch the poor elf.

Feeling a guilt unlike any she had felt in almost a hundred years, she had the most apologetic look upon her face. And she felt even more guilty when Armandeus said her name and began to scoot away from her towards the cabinet.

She had moved her hand to allow him to scoot away, having still not touched him again. And when she saw how his hand was upon his head she moved her hand towards his own. But she still did not make physical contact with him.

The way he had said her name made her think that she had startled him worse than she had though. She needed to say something. "Oh Armandeus, I am so very sorry for startling you. I simply wished to make sure you were ok."

She had felt guilty for many things in her many years, but not like this. Perhaps it was the tone in which he had said her name. Venis had thought that perhaps he would have hit her for waking him, but now he injured himself instead.

With a look of worry and concern upon her face she spoke again. "I really am so sorry. At least let me take care of that bump on your head, please. It's just that when I saw you on the floor I thought you might have been hurt."

Maybe it was her motherly instinct, maybe her being the Goddess of Protection, but either way she wanted to heal him and make him feel better. After all, it was her fault that he hit his head. And all because he was on the cold floor.

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