uhmani | TDM #13

If the main hub and its features don't appeal to you, that's perfectly fine. This is the perfect time to configure your Digitized Technical Friend or your DTF status. A DTF is similar to a dæmon from His Dark Materials in that it is connected to and a reflection of a character's soul. These DTFs take shape accordingly and are projections similar to the NPCs. Think of them as your own personal Clippy except less annoying. Hopefully.

Once that's set-up, there are other locations of the main hub to investigate! You can visit the training grounds, music lounge, library, and onsen. Also, feel free to leave an offering for the resident deity of sleep (Hypnos) at his shrine! You can even visit The Peacekeeper themselves on the second floor. They're always happy to have visitors! They're also conveniently where you might place a complaint about that status of the main hub and its amenities. Even if you do complain, The Peacekeeper will encourage others to set off and find their own place to live out in the simulation.

Granted, the housing market in the afterlife isn't exactly robust. It doesn't help that every place you find has a leaky roof or broken window. No, unfortunately, that will need to be fixed the peaceful way. If you'd like more lighting or even cozier clothes, simulation inhabitants are reminded that 'peaceful interactions' are very important!

It might be a good idea to stick close to someone you know, for now, since even the smallest amounts of intimacy might see subtle changes occurring where they're staying. Perhaps that broken window is now fixed, the grime and dust seem a little less, or the floor doesn't creak quite as loud.

Larger changes, however, will only come after demonstrating more powerful peaceful interactions. If you want new hardwood floors or a fresh coat of paint on the walls, you're going to have to demonstrate how well you 'get along' with others against them first.

BASKETS OF PEACE

"Hello, inhabitants," speaks The Peaceekeper, "have you had a check-up recently? While we don't have to worry about disease here in Amani, your sexual health is still important in so many other ways!" It was recently suggested that perhaps they haven't been the most mindful in terms of encouraging inhabitants to have healthier sexual habits. No time like the present to work on correcting that oversight though.

How? With a gift basket, of course!

Each inhabitant - either new or established - will receive a gift basket full of fun things to try. Each one includes (but is not limited to):

Have some kinky fun! Enjoy yourselves! Don't be afraid to ask your fellow inhabitants either about the contents of the basket if you aren't sure. This is what being peaceful should be all about.

TRIPPING OVER TROPES

Due to the influence of Dirk Strider and Rose Lalonde both, The Peacekeeper has learned about an interesting phenomenon known as 'fanfiction.' It has studied the topic intensely for the last couple of days to try and learn more about its literary significance amongst the multiverse. It is an interesting insight in some of the inhabitants' cultures and what 'tropes' appear to be more common depending on the circumstances.

Unfortunately, such an influx of information sees the AI running Amani a bit more distracted than usual. The simulation - at least for a few days - is a bit more prone to glitches as a result. Only these aren't the usual ones like a hole in reality someone falls through and ends up somewhere unexpected.

No, these ones are as if the NPCs and inhabitants both residing in the simulation are having their pathways forcibly rewritten. It isn't very obvious, at first. Perhaps you're feeling a bit clumsier than usual and need to chase after a rogue piece of paper carrying on the wind that leads you running right into your current crush. Or maybe something gets unexpectedly spilled on you and the person you like is suddenly offering the shirt off their back (and leaving them shirtless, of course) even if it's out of character.

Finally, inhabitants might really start to catch on when whatever dwelling they enter there is only one bed. Have roommates? Too bad, looks like you might have to share for a bit! Oh, no, how unfortunate... However do you think this scenario will end? The Peacekeeper knows since, well, it's the one unwittingly writing inhabitants into these romance trope scenarios.

Thankfully, it will snap back to 'reality' within a few day's time having learned that, as with most good things, fanfiction should be taken in with moderation in mind.

FRUITS OF FALL

Last year, there was an emphasis on apples but there are plenty of other common fruits to be found growing throughout Amani. Due to The Peacekeeper learning about tropes though, some of them will have a temporary effect in that vein on any inhabitant who eats them.

And what are those effects, exactly? Well...

Pomegrante

malleable

new sliding scales

Blackberries

personality flip on its head

Peaches

swap kinks

Grapes

shared experience

swapping bodies and all that means

SEXY STAMP CARD

If you're wondering about these 'peaceful interactions' that keep being mentioned or what the kinks of the month are for... Here's your answer! Upon arrival, all characters will receive a digital copy of their very own sexy stamp card.

Sexy Stamp Card

Issued by: The Peacekeeper

1 2 3 4 ♡

6 7 8 9 ♡

❤

<div style="width:100%;padding:10px 10px 0;font-family:garamond, georgia, serif;font-size:20px;font-style:italic;letter-spacing:2px;text-align:left;">Sexy Stamp Card</div>
<div style="width:100%;padding:0 10px 10px;">Issued by: The Peacekeeper</div>

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<div style="max-width:300px;width:100%;margin:-10px auto 0;text-align:right;font-size:10px;"><a title="code credit!" href="http://10billionghosts.dreamwidth.org" style="text-decoration:none;color:#eee;">❤</a></div>

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Completing peaceful interactions (i.e. kinks) will reward characters with stamps that they can turn in for re-gains and many other things! While the example one here is the standard issued card by The Peacekeeper, players are more than welcome to customize it how they see fit. Have fun with it! NOTES

★ *While this effect of the gender sliding scale will be opt-in entirely and only temporary, it is a feature that inhabitants can purchase in the future with stamps if they'd like!

★ We are currently at 30/40 slots taken! Anyone wishing to claim a character must have an invite from someone currently in the game and follow the proper rules in place to be accepted into the community!

NAVIGATION

F.A.Q. ★ RULES ★ CHARACTER CLAIM ★ LOCATIONS ★ MAIN NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Wait, unusually defiant? Since when has Rosie ever been meek or submissive? What is going on here?

Noctis has never been one to shy away from threats or intimidation, so rather than step back when Barnabas approaches, he takes a step forward in challenge. He's not expecting the grab, though, and Barnabas gets ahold of him before he knows it. And...Noctis can feel his heart pick up its pace and a bit of heat blooming between his - Rosie's - thighs. He has no idea where his reactions end and Rosie's body's begin, but it doesn't really matter. The upshot is, this is getting him horny. Fuck.

Noctis grits his teeth and shoves at the guy with both hands, trying to break that hold. "Get off me, creep. The only thing hideous around here is your ugly face."

The push doesn't deter him, nor lessen his grip, if anything he holds tighter. At least at first. The insult likewise doesn't seem to bother him outside of his general curiosity for the situation. When he does let go, he captures one of Rosie's wrists in its stead, holding it aloft as he inspects her further. Utterly ignoring the other hand if she attempts to swat or push at him. He's honestly like an immovable object, utterly unaffected.

"Enough, my dear." He says in a low rumble of a tone. "To what end would you deny your lust?"

Does he know that Noctsie is turned on right now? Or is he just that confident? It's hard to say, but the way his gaze would bore holes into Rosctis would leave someone feeling utterly exposed and naked, despite being fully dressed. Not that it seems to matter much, when the roil of magic sounds around them, black and red mist emanating from around Barnabas' feet as it builds with a crackle of dark energy.

He's readying to teleport them both.

"Ngh." Inhabiting Rosie's petite body in the face of this guy's aggression and impressive height makes Noctis feel tiny, and he hates it. He knows speed is Rosie's specialty and she's stronger than she looks, but he's not used to having so little leverage and he can't figure out how to bring her full power to bear - especially once Barnabas shifts his grip to hold him by the wrist instead.

Boy, Rosie, you've really found yourself a charmer this time... Noctis scoffs. "Lust? Wow, presumptuous much?" He tries not to think about how the heat in his groin pulses and makes him want to cross his legs. And he realizes that Barnabas probably has good reason to think 'Rosie' is hot for him, because actual Rosie almost certainly is.

Noctis plants his feet and struggles, but pulling away isn't working and he can't warp while something's got him trapped. He can still summon things from the Armiger, though. He holds out his free hand and the Sword of the Wise materializes in it. He lifts the blade to hold it at Barnabas' throat just as that magical energy starts rapidly building.

He tries to twist out of Barnabas' grip. "What the hell are you doing?" he says, but even as the words come out, he knows - he can feel it. Like holding up a dark mirror to the power of kings. He clenches his fist, ready to unleash Holy - until he remembers that his body has the Ring. Only one thing left he can do, then. ...well, other than jab his sword up into the guy's throat, but he's not callous enough.

He calls to the power that dwells in his soul, the one part of himself he's kept with him, and in a flash of bright, blue-white light, a spinning arsenal of phantom Royal Arms bursts into existence around him - around them both. His eyes - Rosie's eyes - flare magenta with divine magic, returning Barnabas' intense gaze with a fiercely resolute one of his own. If his pupils are a little too wide, well...it's probably nothing.

"Let. Go." But he's not sure how much any of his magic can do to stop what Barnabas has already started.

That whole display certainly puts things on hold. The magic ceases soon after the weapons are made manifest, the sword of course first piquing his interest, but the rest is what makes him decide to stop. Not because Noctis was clearly vying for it, but simply because he wishes to know what's actually going on here. At the command, he half considers keeping the hold, but instead he opts for something else. The power he felt, he had assumed might had been Rosie's. After all, she isn't a slouch, despite how she may act, but now he sees there's something else at play.

Which is why, while that mist has dissipated, instead there's a sharp crackle of energy as he simply blips out of existence with a red flash. Noctis will be left seemingly alone for a few moments, before a voice rings out from seemingly nowhere at all, yet it sounds as if it's coming from everywhere, "You are not who I believed you to be. Why wear you her body?"

Unfortunately for Barnabas, he does not have full access to his powers, and so he must proceed with some due caution. He doubts not his skill with a blade, or what he might be able to do to whoever this truly is, but he knows not their skill set, nor less their power, and only a fool charges in headlong knowing nothing of their opponent. However, he is no coward, and so he does reappear, though notably behind Noctis a few yards back, with a halberd in hand.

Edited 2023-10-02 05:03 (UTC)

...right. Noctis almost forgot that Barnabas thought he was actually Rosie. Well, the cat's out of the bag now, although this guy must really not know Rosie very well if it took the Armiger to clue him in.

He turns when Barnabas vanishes, searching for the source of his voice and finding nothing. "Not by choice," he snaps at the air. "One of Amani's little games. And who are you, exactly?"

He whirls around when he hears the man return. The weapon draws his eyes - a polearm, a wise choice for superior reach against a swordsman. But Noctis is much more than that. He banishes his blade and a blink later, he's grasping the shaft of the Conqueror's Axe. ...and then he has to quickly shift his grip and use both hands to make up for the fact that while Rosie has the raw strength to wield it, her arms and torso are so much shorter than his and he feels somewhat off-balance. Still, he scowls.

"You wanna fight? Let's go. I'm game."

To be fair, it was less the need for the armiger and more his utter indifference to it all which did keep him from examining the clues before him. Now that Noctis has made this a bit more interesting, he's willing to engage a little more.

"Fight? You would prove little more than a child's tussle." He says with flat aplomb. The swap to a great axe is certainly a better choice, but the way that the inhabitor of Rosie's body seems ill-suited to her dimensions means that they'll be operating at a handicap. He doesn't take a fighting stance, looking uninterested at the prospect. Not because he doesn't want to fight, in truth he always does, but rather...he would like to engage in this when they are in fighting form.

"You may kneel before Barnabas Tharmr, Warden of Ash, King of Waloed." He says in a way that almost sounds scripted, like he's said it a million times before, yet there's no real expectation put into the kneeling part. He honestly cannot care if people kneel or not. Though he does choose to add something else, "Dominant of Odin."

He is rather aware that the other Dominants have gotten familiar with the populace, and he would have him know exactly who he is. In kind, so too will Barnabas know Noctis, "I would know your name."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." This guy's got balls, Noctis will give him that. Ready to claim effortless superiority while knowing literally nothing about what he's up against. Not the brightest bulb in the box.

Noctis arches a brow. "Thanks for the permission, but I don't kneel to anyone." Another king...but this one seems to be a tyrant. And soon enough, more context comes - another Dominant, and this is the one Dion mentioned as the kind of guy other worlds could do without. Too bad Amani doesn't seem to be doing without him.

Since Barnabas isn't ready to fight, Noctis lets his own stance drop, instead planting the butt of the axe on the ground and holding it in one hand. He may feel small in Rosie's body, but he's still fully capable of assuming the regal countenance he's been cultivating, and he draws himself up into it now. Normally, he hates introducing himself so formally, and he doubly hates declaring himself the True King. But in the face of Barnabas' own introduction, he can do no less.

"Noctis Lucis Caelum. King of Lucis, and King of Kings for all of Eos. I've met others from your world. At least one doesn't seem to have a very high opinion of you."

"King of Kings." He repeats, as if getting a feel of the title in his mouth. Barnabas will have to see how worthy Noctis is of such a title, or if he simply inherited it and this power. At the mention of knowing others from his world, Barnabas' expression stays impassive, he doesn't seem surprised or bothered about the prospect of someone besmirching his name.

"That narrows naught down, the other Dominants are my enemies, though that need not concern you." He speaks in that accented drawl of his, slow and easy, not a shred of concern in it. "Though I imagine the prince is more like to rally others against me, as is his wont. So, are you to act as the prince's pawn, King of Kings?"

Noctis himself isn't always sure he'll ever be worthy of the title, but he's going to try his best, and two years in the Crystal plus his time in Amani has given him more confidence.

Hearing that Barnabas is the enemy of all of the other Domninants rings an alarm bell in Noctis' mind. He's going to have to ask Dion or Cid more about this guy. "I'd say it concerns not only me, but the rest of Amani, too, depending on what your aim here is." He shakes his head. "Dion isn't rallying anyone." Yet, anyway. "He mentioned you as Odin, nothing more. My world has versions of the others - Shiva, Ifrit, Bahamut - but no Odin among them."

"Pawn?" That gets his hackles up, but he grips the axe's shaft hard and forces himself not to act out of angry impulse. What this guy thinks doesn't matter. He takes a breath and aims for an even tone. "I'm no one's pawn. But if Dion - my friend - ever does ask me for aid or support, I'm inclined to help him out."

...he can't help tacking on, "You do know what a 'friend' is, right?"

"A convenient word for what amounts to the same. You would do well to ask the prince what Sanbreque does with its would-be friends." Barnabas says with the slightest tinge of amusement in his tone. It's almost undetectable, certainly bogged down by the otherwise unaffected way he speaks. However, for all Noctis emphasizes his concern about Barnabas being the other Dominants' enemy, Barnabas doesn't seem remotely bothered in the slightest that he might have garnered himself more enemies. It is inconvenient, that much he will allow, but no more a concern than any other inconvenience he is handed.

"As for my aim—why, it is the same as the rest of you: to exist here in peace. However, should you be opposed to such, then I shall dispatch you as any enemy before you."

It's hard to tell if he's being serious with that claim, but his tone, expression, and even posture has not changed a bit. There is no sign that might give a hint that he's not telling the truth—outside of one's prejudice against him. Justified as it may be.

"But you speak of Eikons—" Another red flash as he blips from existence, appearing directly behind Noctis. His voice is what gives his position away as he speaks quietly into that wolf-ear, "I would know of them."

Noctis has no intention of grilling Dion about his homeland or its politics, but even if they're as callous as Barnabas implies, he can't imagine Dion being a part of that.

The word 'jaded' doesn't come anywhere close to where Barnabas' outlook seems to stand. Anyone who can legitimately say they see little difference between a friend and a pawn is a threat to true peace no matter what their intentions are. Of course, Barnabas is also making actual threats, so either way, he's someone to keep an eye on.

It's hard to do that, though, when he keeps teleporting around. Eikons - right, that's the word Cid and Dion use for what Lucis would call gods. Barnabas vanishes and Noctis tenses, preparing himself for - he's not sure what. An attack, maybe, or doing that thing Ardyn used to do where he always wanted to be looming high above and looking down at everyone.

He's fully unprepared for Barnabas to suddenly be this near. Unprepared to feel warm breath against his ear, or for the way the man speaks so close to it - an ear that's much more sensitive than his usual human ones. He can't suppress a shiver, and it's getting harder to ignore the heat pooling between his legs. He unconsciously shifts his stance to one that presses his thighs together as he turns around to face Barnabas and takes a step back.

"Uh..." Right. Eikons. He sees no reason not to explain. "They're known as gods where I come from. They don't inhabit people like they do in your world. As the king, I can make pacts with them to appear and help me out in battle, but otherwise they stay pretty removed from humanity. But like I said, we don't have an Odin." He counts them out idly on his fingers as he lists them: "Bahamut, Shiva, Ifrit, Titan, Leviathan, Ramuh, Garuda, and their Messengers. That's it."

Edited 2023-10-03 05:23 (UTC)

The reaction is about as expected, and he takes note of the stance. He isn't unaffected by him, much how Rosie isn't. Fascinating. He keeps this proximity as Noctis explains the gods of his world, and while he would not name the Eikons gods—for there is only one true god—many others would liken them to such. They would be fools, but it that is the burden of man: fools till the last.

As Noctis lists them, Barnabas does notice a certain one that's lacking—not only Odin, but also, "What of the Phoenix? Certainly he is not the Messengers in which you speak of."

It would prove rather piteous if that was what the Phoenix was reduced to in Noctis' world, but a different world would likely hold different rules. As was made obvious by the Eikons not manifesting within people. In truth, what Noctis does with these "gods" doesn't sound entirely unfamiliar to him for several reason. Not only in the form of Mythos claiming the power of each Eikon, but something from Valisthea's ancient history.

He cannot help but wonder what other similarities their worlds hold.

Barnabas still appears to give zero shits about personal space, but Noctis isn't about to back away any further.

His brow furrows. "Phoenix? I can enchant certain kinds of feathers to revive people who are badly injured, and we call those 'Phoenix down.'" He reaches out to snag one such feather from the Armiger, holding it up for Barnabas to see before banishing it again. "But I've never heard of a real Phoenix actually existing."

Idly he wonders what that might mean. Perhaps nothing, perhaps it was mere chance that these similar beings were made manifest, bearing name and probable likeness, and which would be shared is little more than coincidence. Or, perhaps there is a meaning he does not know yet. Something to puzzle out, he supposes.

As Noctis shows him the Down, his regards it with placidity, despite his vague intrigue. As it disappears, his eyes return to Rosie's—Noctis', rather.

"I wager your world shares the selfsame rule of one Eikon per element—or perhaps Ifrit has consumed Phoenix. This might explain his absence. Though not Odin's."

He raises the arm which holds the halberd, making it vanish in a flash of black and red energy, before Barnabas crosses his arms over his chest. This only emphasizes his cleavage.

"What serves as the warden over darkness?"

Noctis shrugs at this talk of gods consuming each other as he allows his own weapon to fade back into the Armiger. "Anything's possible. Ifrit does seem like the type."

He's about to ask what element Odin brings to bear, but Barnabas answers that question with his own. Noctis frowns. He's learned, having spoken to people like Elidibus and Emet-Selch - not to mention the Keeper themselves - that darkness isn't necessarily a bad thing on its own. Indeed, his task is to bring back the sun in its normal cycle, not to banish night from the world entirely. And knowing that he and Ardyn are meant to die together, thus ridding the world of the collective powers of both Scourge and Light at the same time, he thinks maybe Eos is no different after all.

"I'm...not sure how to answer that. The short answer is, there isn't one, unless you count a mindless corruptive force that takes the form of a contagious disease and wipes out light and will wherever it goes. But we do have someone who serves at its vessel, against his will. I wouldn't really call him a 'warden,' though."

"An unwilling vessel." He almost sounds amused by that, but he doesn't expand upon it. This is all rather intriguing, and valuable in its own right. That Noct would share so freely with someone he seemed content to imply as his enemy is also an interesting data point. It would seem he's a lot more bark than bite, as is often the case with men like Noctis, he finds.

Most would see it as a strength, but Barnabas sees it for what it truly is.

"He would release men of their will with this affliction. Fascinating." Now that's interesting. Idly he wonders if this is some form of the Akashic. He would not name being Akashic a disease, though. His expression shifts from something almost thoughtful, to the vague scowl it usually is. At least in this context he looks like he's assessing something about Noctis.

Certainly nothing he would want Barnabas to assess.

"Though, we shall put this chatter to rest for now. I can scarce imagine how distracting it must be for you, dripping with arousal as you are." As he says this, his gaze flicks downwards toward's Noctis'—or Rosie's—groin, before returning to catch Noctis' gaze with his again. His intent rather clear.

Noctis has never been one to keep secrets. For one thing, he's so used to the whole world being privy to every little thing he does and says that he's long since given up pretending to have any privacy. For another, he isn't exactly known for his ability to think before he talks or acts. And for a third, he has grown to hate secrets on principle, after so much was kept from him for so long - and still is, he's sure.

So it doesn't even occur to him that Barnabas could do much of anything with information like this about Eos. It's stuff everybody knows at this point anyway, back home, and it's not like Ardyn didn't advertise himself as the sketchy daemonic drug-dealing hobo when he first got here.

...and aside from all that, Barnabas is right that he's distracted by Rosie's damn libido.

But not so distracted he doesn't notice the way Barnabas phrased that. He scowls slightly. "'Release'? Not how I'd put it. Or how anyone would put it. What's wrong with--"

Oh, shit. "What?" Rosie's face turns a remarkable shade of pink. How the hell did Barnabas notice that?? "I - no, I'm not."

Another reason Noctis tends not to keep secrets: he's a terrible liar.

In contrast, misinformation, obfuscation, and lies have been Barnabas' bread and butter. Not that he had always been that way, but life has a way of changing you, and sometimes for the worst. Thus he has kept most everything private, revealing only what is strictly necessary, or what might be enough of a seed to plant in someone for a result he wanted to cultivate. If people were plants, he would be their gardener, maintaining everything as it needs to be to get the exact yield he wants.

Just as he's been doing this whole exchange with Noctis. Little touches of intimacy to plant that which begs to be seeded, but not enough to make him fully retreat. One cannot over-till the soil, after all. Meanwhile, he's garnered himself some useful bits of information that he will pursue further. Not now, of course, for now, he is interested in this King of Kings.

For now he won't touch further on the conversation of wills and men being released of them. He's said enough on that front as is, and he knows it will earn him no favors if he goes any deeper into it at present. Thus he focuses on that which leaves Noctis feeling exposed and vulnerable. As he regards him—glancing over that body he's borrowing. Unfolding his arms, he brings a loosely curled hand to not only catch his chin, but to tilt his head to look at him.

"You truly thought I would not notice the titillation exuding from you? Any man worthy of the name would catch the sweet scent of it." His dark eyes seek Noctis' own as he gazes down at him, though he removes the hand from his chin to swiftly curl it around Noctis' waist to pull him against his chest.

"Shall I free you from its searing burden?"

Edited 2023-10-04 07:45 (UTC)

Noctis never had any real chance of outmaneuvering Barnabas here, or even catching on to the other king's subtle manipulation in the first place. He's been fooled by less, from people he knew better. Even Ardyn still takes him by surprise sometimes, and Ardyn's the least subtle manipulator in the world.

There's a part of him that wants to shove Barnabas' hand aside and warp out of here. He doesn't have to stand here and let this creepy king of darkness seduce him. In fact, he probably shouldn't.

But he's pretty sure he's gonna. Actually, he's starting to think maybe he already did. Despite what one might think, considering he's dating Ardyn, no one has ever pulled this kind of stunt with Noctis before. No one's ever been this kind of inevitable, magnetic force of lust with him. And Noctis reacts poorly to others trying to assert their authority over him, but Barnabas hasn't even really done that. He hasn't had to.

So Noctis doesn't stop Barnabas from tilting Rosie's chin up to meet his eyes with her warm, brown ones. All this talk of titillation makes Rosie's face blush hotter, and Barnabas pulling him close to that sculpted chest of his only makes it worse.

"Uh..." Yeah, it's way too late to pretend. The heat pulsing between Rosie's legs demands attention and for better or worse, Noctis wants it from Barnabas Tharmr.

"...sure, go for it."

The muted delivery of the permission granted is almost amusing. Were Barnabas capable of being endeared to others, he might name it that. As it stands, however, he is as warm to Noctis as he was before even knowing of his existence, which is to say not at all. What he has gained from this is cold facts, devoid of attachment or the shackles of bonding. Though, he won't deny that in this realm there is a benefit to these interactions, to playing the part of a lover to people he otherwise sees little personal value in. Sex means stamps, and stamps means power, and he would be a fool to not play the game for what it is, until he can break it.

"Very well."

With Noctis' agreement, however, that leaves him to decide where to lay claim to him. Certainly he has no qualms over the impropriety of their current location, nor does most of the inhabitants seem to mind such either. Yet, there is a need to keep Noctis interested, and while his desire is raw and wafting through the air, it is key to lay the groundwork. Thus do those teleportation magics kick up again, and with Noctis in tow does he transport them. The mist that encompasses them dissipates almost as quickly as it enshrouded them, their transitional shift in location so instantaneous, that the sway of the ground beneath them will probably be far more disorienting than the warping itself.

Noctis will find himself still steadily held against Barnabas, but instead of being outdoors, they are in what appears to be the captain's quarters on a galleon—should Noctis even know what that looks like. However, it is far more sparse than one might assume for a living space. In fact, there seems to be mostly a lone chair that is facing the backdrop of windows, one of a fitting style for a king as Barnabas claims himself to be, otherwise the quarters are achingly empty.

There is nothing that would tell Noctis more about Barnabas in this room, nothing characteristic to it, nothing particularly unique or personable. Nothing that speaks of hobbies, of his joys, of even art or clutter. Though, perhaps this in itself speaks deeply about him as a man—a yawning chasm, a sprawling abyss where something should be, but isn't.

Well, besides the bed. The rather large bed, one that could fit far more than a single pair of people. This is where Barnabas aims to steer Noctis, even before he might have his wits about him with the sway of the ship. This is on purpose. How easily it oft proves to be to persuade one's body to give into the descent to the bed when they have not claimed their balance. How much more enticing it is to stay where you might feel stable, than to stand like a fawn on wobbly legs flirting with the chance to fall. There is security in accepting the control he provides, in submitting to it, and he would see if Noctis will do just that.

Edited 2023-10-04 19:58 (UTC)

Noctis watches the magic rather than Barnabas once it begins again. As a fellow king with various powers of spatial displacement, but of the exact opposite nature, he can't help a bit of curiosity.

There isn't all that much to watch, though, in the end. When the mist vanishes, Barnabas may be surprised to find that Noctis adjusts to the sway of the deck easily, used to spending long periods of time on the ocean even if the boat he's most familiar with has no sails.

He glances around the room - no, the cabin, and despite its archaic design, Noctis recognizes it for what it is, and his face lights up. "Whoa, a ship!" Despite the steering, he turns from Barnabas in an attempt to walk over to the windows and peer out. "This is sick. I've been thinking about bringing my boat here, too. For fishing trips - hey, do you fish?"

It's when he turns back to look at Barnabas as he asks that question that he notices the relative emptiness of the room. He glances down at what could reasonably called a throne, then around at the plentitude of bare space. Looks like Barnabas probably doesn't live on his ship full-time. Maybe he just likes fucking out at sea? Noctis wouldn't blame him.

With Noctis utterly possessed of his bearings and seemingly excited about where they are, or rather what they're in, Barnabas can only watch him with an impassive stare. Especially as he steers away from where he had attempted to lead him in order to examine the room, what little there is within it. Barnabas must make a lonely visual, standing there in a room so hollow, looking nearly as hollow as it when Noctis' attention is back on him. His lifeless stare meeting Noctis' excited one, but he doesn't stir much at all, only his brow furrowing slightly more than before.

"One can scarce claim to be a sailor without knowing how to fish." He answers plainly, though he lacks any such enthusiasm in his voice for the activity that Noctis seems to carry. In truth, perhaps long ago it was something he might have pursued with better interest than he holds for it now, but like so much else that interest eroded away, and with it any joy it brought him.

"Indeed, you are aboard the Einherjar, my royal galleon. I had not expected you to be a fisherman, nor less a sailor in your own right." For all the lack of enthusiasm in his voice, he's still talking about this subject. Maybe it has a kernel of something in him, a speck of interest that persists. As he talks, he stays put where Noctis has left him, making no move to collect his fellow king. Not yet, anyway.

"What did you name her—your boat?"

"Yeah, you know how to fish - but do you enjoy it?" Noctis turns to look over the ocean out the window, setting a hand on his hip. "Man, I love fishing. I could do it aaaall day."

He glances up at what he can see of the exterior of the ship from here. "Royal galleon, hell yeah." He shrugs. "It's...well, it's more than a hobby, but obviously 'king' is a full-time job, so I just do it whenever I can."

This encounter has gotten a little surreal, he has to admit. Barnabas has gone from mysterious aggressor to potential enemy to seducer to fellow sailor in the span of maybe ten minutes. Noctis really isn't sure what to make of the guy so far, on the whole, but it's not like he's in any hurry to leave.

"Ah, I didn't name her - my father did. The royal vessel, Lumina Maris. Nowhere near as huge as your ship - she's a motor yacht, built for recreation and quick journeys. But I've spent a looot of time on that boat." His tone is fond. It doesn't seem to have occurred to him yet that he's straying pretty far from the whole reason Barnabas brought him here to begin with. Not like Rosie's body has eased up on the desire any, Noctis is just...distracted at the moment.

"I do not hate it." Which is about as good as it gets with ol' Barney, or so Cid would probably inform Noctis were he here. He would also probably tell Noctis to get the fuck off this ship and not fuck the man either, but he can't and he won't, because blissfully Cidolfus doesn't know about the Einherjar. Instead, Noctis is here, alone with Barnabas, talking about fishing and boats.

There's weirder things that could be happening.

As Noctis goes on about fishing and the boat, he seems to be listening, though it's hard to know how much he's really taking in at any given time when someone is talking. The intensity of his stares never really lessen, nor do his expression shift beyond the gloomy or unaffected—except when Noctis mentions his father. That seems to get his attention, though he does not speak on it.

In fact, he doesn't speak at all, merely allows this silent moment of fond regard for a parent and their inherited gifts to play out as long as it is needed. He knows not the relationship, nor if Noctis' father is still alive, but either way he doubts the man is here. That is its own separation. Barnabas' empathy in most things died out long ago, but on this matter... well, it's an exception.

However, all he has to offer is silence, even if he wanted to reach out on this matter, he wouldn't. Couldn't. Simply won't. It is far too vulnerable, and as he well knows, any chip in one's armor means certain death.

Edited 2023-10-05 08:06 (UTC)

Considering the little Noctis knows about Barnabas, he can take a guess that 'I do not hate it' is more or less a positive response. "Well, if you ever get the urge to fish here, I can tell you it's well worth your time. There are fish from every world we've ever had anyone come here from, so there's always something new to catch."

Barnabas' silence is a little unnerving, but Noctis catches the moment when a sudden flicker of interest passes over his face. He's not about to pry, but he'll keep it in mind.

Then Noctis runs out of things to say, and more silence fills the empty space between them. He shifts to perch on the arm of the chair, arms folded and sitting in an entirely too masculine fashion for the short skirt he's wearing, as he gazes out the window at the waves. Ordinarily, their rocking and constant sussurus would threaten to lull him to sleep, but in Rosie's body he has so much more energy than he's ever had in his life. For the first time in a long time, he isn't tired at all.

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