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 We’re growing feathers, now we’re letting go, [P] Jer & Orin
Cole Harper
 Posted: Apr 10 2018, 08:52 PM

Air & Lightning
Age: 44
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Posts: 146
OOC: Olly

At the first hint of artificially crafted daybreak – the torches and hovering lights surrounding the underground city of Arbington slowly blinking on and bathing the cavern city in a soft, amber glow – Cole finally stirred from his bed. In truth, he had already been awake for hours, wholly unable to sleep the whole night away when the warm body of Jer lied so close to him. He had taken to nestling in close, fingers idly combing through the dark hair of the man beside him, and he stared silently and contentedly up at the ceiling until those slivers of outdoor lighting urged him to pry himself away, at least for the moment.

He slipped away as quietly as possible, hoping not to disturb the other man after such an eventful day of travel, shopping, and amorous exploration just the afternoon prior. The first toll of Arbington’s enormous bell was not due for another hour or so, and so in the silence of the early dawn, Cole retreated to the first floor of his manor, bare-footed and clad in a relatively simple pair of trousers and a roomy white shirt. He chose, in the moment, to delay the process of meticulous dressing in outerwear for when everyone in the household was awake, and instead spent the solitude preparing for the three of them a simple but savory breakfast out of what little food items he had remaining in the kitchen. This consisted, uncreatively, largely of bread and cheese, but some remnants of dried fruits and nuts from the day before were still there to nibble on, and Cole sliced the last of a deliciously smoked trout into thirds as well.

Once the three plates had been set on the dining table, Cole stood quietly for a few moments and simply listened, his weight leaned back against the wall of his kitchen space. His gaze slid idly, distractedly, over toward the table again, but the faint sound of movement in one of the rooms on the first floor alerted him to Orin’s stirring. Pushing himself from the wall, Cole ventured down the short hallway and knocked gently on the door to the private room he had given the Averian ward before peeking his head inside.

In the dim light, the single-person cot he had procured for Orin was merely an outline until his eyes adjusted. Once his bright eyes found the shape of Orin in there with the bed, he finally spoke. “Good morniiiing.” his voice was almost in sing-song, but the sleepiness that still tugged at it prevented it from becoming too peppy. “Breakfast is ready, if you’re hungry.” He did not wait around for longer than a simple answer, wanting to provide Orin with as much freedom and control over himself and his own decisions as he could, given the traumatic journey he’d recently made to Ombra on a slaver’s ship. He had set the ward up in a room near the kitchen so he could find his way to and from the main room of his own accord after a few guided passes, and so allowed him to make his way to the table whenever he desired. Cole, in the meantime, ambled back to the kitchen and began fussing over the counter space, not wanting to begin eating without either of his guests, but too invigorated by the overwhelming act of leaving Tyrgere for the foreseeable future only lurking an hour or two away to remain still.

Orin Misariel
 Posted: Yesterday at 12:11 pm

Age: 18
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Tactile Sight

Posts: 13
OOC: Tink

Orin hadn't slept very well, for a multitude of reasons. The biggest ones were pre-travel jitters/excitement, and er... well. A strange state of discomfort. He'd overheard some rather... heated goings-on, the previous evening, and it had put him in a somewhat confusing, feverish state, for several hours. Several. Hours. And even when he did manage to fall asleep, it was fitful.

Perhaps he was coming down sick? Orin prayed not... If he were sick, Cole might decide to leave him behind... and the boy couldn't bear the thought. But... it would be dishonest not to tell Cole, wouldn't it? Yes, it would.

When the knock came to his bedroom door, Orin's eyes cracked open just a bit (bleary and tired). He didn't quite move from his spot, but he peeked his head out from under the covers, just in time to hear Cole's morning greeting. It always made Orin smile and feel loved... Before he could reply, breakfast was announced, and he heard Cole's swift departure.

Quick as the sleepy boy could manage, he disentangled himself from the bedclothes, and stumbled his way out to the dining room in his nightshirt. Well. Technically it was Cole's nightshirt, and the boy practically swam in it, but he liked it that way. Anyway, he toddled on out, nightshirt billowing around his rather minute frame, and white locks fluffy and mussed from sleep. Orin wasn't accustomed to managing it, himself, so it tended not to occur to him to try to smooth it down; it's not like he could see it.

The teenager yawned a big, sleepy yawn as he stumbled toward the table, and made his way to his usual place, plopping down. Rather than his usual routine of touching the table and seeing what was in front of him, Orin's hands were fidgeting and fiddling with one another. The boy was nervous. Would Cole be disappointed in him, if he were ill?

Cole HarperJeremiah Menahem

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