both completely devastating and moderately disappointing. after all, that isn't very surprising of you.
[ tease. ]
yeah, i don't think professor manuela would take kindly to a rooster in the infirmary. on that note, maybe i should apologize. i've been taking up your nap time.
[ and he could have gone on about this singular idea of his, only
it's almost 4:30 and it's Felix. It's just Felix on the other side, both of these messages and that wall -- and strangely, maybe even worryingly enough, that's come to mean something. ]
well, it's just an idea.
how about we find a good vantage point from which to watch the sun rise?
[And Felix, meanwhile, supposes because it's too late (or early, whatever) and he's lacking sleep and he's lonely that he's even entertaining Claude's idea.]
Sure. Just as long as it's away from everyone else.
ha, are you that worried about people seeing us at this hour?
[ though Claude knows that if he is harboring that type of concern, it's not an unreasonable hour for it. many of the monastery staff rise in advance of the sun to gain on the day before them. ]
i've got two viewing points in point. one's a hill about a 15-minute from the front gate and the other's the roof of this building.
[People talk had been Felix's original response. Thankfully, he realized acknowledging that someone might see them, while true, would also mean admitting that he's concerned. Or, worse, that Claude's right.]
[Try as he might, Felix couldn't fall back asleep. The birds outside hadn't let up and his mind, too preoccupied with all sorts of thoughts mostly involving what his scheming neighbor could be up to, wouldn't allow for a few moments' peace anyway, so it's with a grumble that Felix dresses up in something light -- what he'd wear to morning exercises anyway -- and shucks his shoes on. He doesn't even bother styling his hair either, deciding it's best to save his energy for making the trip to the roof.
He knows of only one way up there, as it's one of many popular spots for Garreg Mach students looking for some solitude or, more accurately, some privacy. Felix never used it much -- just once, when he tried meditation and found that his thoughts were too jumbled and his emotions too angry for him to sit and think about nothing. Whatever. All he knows is that it better be the spot Claude referred to, because it's too early and he doesn't have the energy to go back down and figure a way to contact him for the exact location.
It's breezy up there on the roof, at a comfortable median between cool and warm. The sky is a dwindling purple, with the faintest of orange streaks on the horizon. Sunrise is almost upon them.]
If you're already up here, Claude, you better not be hiding...
[He mutters that behind his hand just seconds before he yawns, too loud for it to be considered polite in noble circles. Like he cares.]
In fact, Claude had napped. Just not after 4:30. He'd drifted away over a dusty tome on crestology a little after 3 AM and been woken by Felix's message an hour later. The unevenness of his sleep schedule made it an easy waking, and after thirty odd minutes of riveting conversation, his mind was up. Fully alert, waters active, with whirlpools stirring toward maelstrom.
For that reason, he'd headed up in advance of the proposed time. Oh so eager to meet Felix, he simply couldn't wait, his racing--! Nah. He has a few different haunts that he frequents for morning meditation. Little though some may believe it, he does like to begin his day with it, and early. It helps to calm and sort his thoughts, has done, had helped him make the shift in younger years from the emotional brat he'd been -- embittered, frustrated, argumentative, desperate, hurt, hurt, hurt -- to the unflappable schemer of today.
So dressed in part of his uniform -- the yellow shirt, spacious pants -- he climbed up and picked his way over to his favored perch. He sits there, eyes closed, legs crossed, palms shaped over his knees. Breeze tickling longer strands of his hair against his cheek, loosed from the typical braid.
Felix's voice breaks through, somehow quieter than the yawn that follows. Claude smiles, not yet opening his eyes. ]
Oh, I am hiding. Right out in the open. Do you want to play find the deer, Felix?
[Listen. He was tired, okay. He had to try, even if it ended in utter failure.
Felix hears Claude first, and proceeds to follow the invisible path toward the familiar voice. This early in the morning, his senses are not as keen as they tend to be, so he doesn't find Claude right away. No matter. It'll be easy to sniff him out.
He rolls his eyes and makes sure the smirk can be heard in his voice--]
And miss out on the peace and quiet I'd have without you around? Perish the thought.
[ How close that rooster came to despair...! also let's politely not overthink how Claude managed to hear that muttered behind Felix's hand
Having been out here for roughly forty minutes, Claude had gotten accustomed to the hush of the roof, the trilling of the birds among the background of rustling leaves, the water lapping of the fishing pond lapping against dock and shore below. Once roused from his head, his ears immediately trace the new sound: voice, yawn, footsteps. The wry humor crooked in Felix's response.
By now, Claude can picture his smirk with near-disconcerting clarity. His smile broadens. ]
Yet, here you are, getting closer. Have you considered that you might be a masochist?
[ Now opening his eyes, he leans a supportive hand against the roof behind him, then twisting back to look for Felix. ]
[Just as Felix expected, Claude nibbles on the line he set out for him, allowing the swordsman to pinpoint and follow his voice on the roof amid all the wind and sound up there. He eases around one of the roof's many flashings and, lo and behold, there's gold. Not literal, but the brightness of Claude's clothing is unmistakable and so bright in this darkness, it might as well be.
Felix approaches and yawns again, this time a forced one but can anyone really tell the difference? Claude might, but he tries not to think about it too much.]
To be honest, for me to be out here and at this hour, I'm beginning to think that I am one.
[ Claude might. He hasn't actually heard Felix yawn all that often, hadn't seen the first yawn force itself out, could give him the benefit of the doubt. If Claude ever gave anyone that benefit.
As Felix nears, Claude grins up at him. The bright lemon of his top, bright flash of his teeth, and his eyes -- not quite. Maybe closer to than they've yet been, whether with Felix or anyone else here. ]
Sure, sure. What a crazy and terrible thing to be on a roof just after 5 AM with that delightful rogue Claude von Riegan.
[ A callback, of a sorts, in that self-description. ]
Well, I can't promise you'll enjoy it, but if you don't, it won't be that terrible.
[ Now patting the roof next to him, if not right next to him, indicating Felix should sit. ]
[Torture that's worth putting up with, apparently, because Felix doesn't hesitate and promptly and with minimal effort, he sits himself down on the designated spot. And just to make sure, once he's down, he scoots over just the tiniest bit.]
We'll see about that...
[It's nice up here, so Claude gets points for that, even if it's more breezy than Felix is willing to put up with at this hour. After a few moments of having his long bangs whip this way and that into his eyes, he starts to finger-comb his hair back away from his face. Just as smoothly as he does this every morning -- the only difference being his location and his company. It's fine.]
[ Absolute torture, he says, as he drops into a seat by Claude. Claude laughs, clearly not giving much weight to Felix's certain misery.
Yeah, either Felix is a masochist or he's not as honest with himself as he purports to be. It isn't a new thought. These last months had evidenced that discrepancy in word and action. Felix maintained his brusque irritability with Claude, yet continued to accompany him on hikes into the mountains surrounding Garreg Mach, continued to answer his messages, continued to himself initiate. It might seem equally incongruous, then, that Claude continues to think of Felix as honest. Perhaps because he reads him well enough, because actions speak louder than words, because if the worst Felix can be is blunt and rude and awkward with what and whom he doesn't totally hate, it's really almost charming.
Claude's confident by now that there is nothing intentionally deceptive in Felix. It isn't enough for trust, nothing could be, but there are times where it might feel close. Maybe if he knew better what it felt like to trust, he'd know to be worried in those moments, to pull back.
In any case -- looking up before, though his eyes had long adjusted to the dark, he hadn't been able to fully appreciate that Felix's hair was down. Once he's on eye level, drawing Claude's gaze with the movement of his fingers through, Claude does. Appreciate it. And maybe an hour of sleep makes even Claude slow to realize that he's staring, but sun break gives him a good excuse to tug his eyes skyward. ]
I'm honored that you assume I know exactly how long that will be.
[ ...not that Felix doesn't assume correctly. ]
Accordingly to Cichol's Almanac, the sun should rise in about about ten, fifteen minutes.
[The hair is swept up without any fanfare into one of his typical buns, albeit slightly messier than usual -- Felix doesn't seem to mind, once he's gone through morning training and breakfast and a bath, then he can worry about making it more presentable. The sun isn't even up yet so he feels he's earned the right to go lax on his own personal dress code.]
Weren't you the one that suggested this in the first place?
[Whether Claude truly feels honored or not, Felix can't say. He also can't say he cares too much, although that might be a bit of stretch on the truth. While Felix lives his life within the realm of his own choices and feelings (provided they're within the scope of a nobleman's life), there are rare moments when slivers of thoughts are spared for others. Annette's singing, Lysithea's cakes, and even Claude's...well, he can't quite put a finger on what it is exactly about Claude that he's willing to forgive and allow in his space. Yet there he is, willing to spend time with him -- and only him -- on this roof at the crack of dawn for ten to fifteen minutes.]
Hm.
[His head tilts, curious.]
Almanac, eh. Do you always consult one everyday or was this a special occasion?
i think i had "the sun will should in about ten" smh
It's the sun, Felix. It'd come up eventually, wouldn't it? I might have had a general idea.
[ Might have, except that he did check the almanac.
For a guy who claims to care about naught, or little more than, battle and training for it, Felix does seem to give more than cursory attention to his appearance. Maybe not much more, but more. His hair serves as once piece of evidence, his tidy uniform another. Sure, Claude figures that Felix would attribute both to practicality, that sloppy hair and disheveled clothes would get in his way.
Still, he normally cuts a clean figure, and right now, with strands of hair escaping, in lighter clothing, it's notable. Whether or not he feels it, dressing down has the effect of making Felix look almost relaxed. Less like a wolf with a spur in its paw, ready to gnash teeth should any near.
Claude pushes both hands behind him now, leaning back as he kicks out his legs from the cross. Now looking up at Felix. ]
Not everyday, no. Sometimes, yes, for both special and ordinary occasions.
[ Insidious, the creeping growth of smile to grin. ]
[If asked, Felix would just shrug and claim he's not some dandy or fop, that appearances don't matter, et cetera et cetera. Except that latter portion would be an obvious lie -- while he doesn't groom for the attention of others, he does have pride -- perhaps too much of it -- which extends to his appearance. He'd also claim it's more for conveniences' sake: can't function properly as an agile swordsman if his hair and clothing are loose and in the way.
And if he feels relaxed, then it's just a side-effect, nothing more.
Maybe.]
I'm not the one that regularly comes up here. You tell me.
[ Spoken as though earnest in the question, but the tone does little good when, despite an attempt to mimic a thoughtful expression, his grin gives him away.
There is something else to betray, however, and his delayed realization of it makes the question convenient. It helps him stall without being obvious.
Whether or not Felix really knows it, Claude does come up here regularly. Alone. He'd not once even considered inviting anyone. This shouldn't be too noteworthy -- given the hour at which he climbed up for the sun (or the hour at which he pursued the stars), it wasn't as though could reasonably ask anyone if so inclined in the moment. A matter of serendipity that Felix had been awake now.
That's all. As simple as that. Or that should be all, it should be that simple.
His thoughts have begun to deviate as of late, swamp waters spilling into a creek. Awareness trickling, thin rivulets that gather greater. Cognizance of just Felix, of wanting to invite him up here, of satisfaction when he agreed.
Of something too like an old, stabbing dread, at the unsurprising notion that Felix would hate him.
Yeah, it's special. But, it doesn't have to be a problem. If he's aware of it, he can handle it. Hold it firm and put it away.
So he's casual, matter-of-fact when he answers, though he looks away, searching out the spread of orange in the sky. ]
[Felix rolls his eyes, lets out a musing snort. There is no off-switch for guys like Claude, is there?
(Dumb question: of course there isn't, and Felix rather prefers it that way.)]
No, you didn't. But it's plainly obvious you do.
[His hand makes a minor, sweeping gesture over him.]
Aside from how easily you invited me and situated yourself up here before I arrived -- and quite comfortably might I add -- you're now saying it's special. And if you didn't come up here often, you wouldn't invite just anybody up here, would you?
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[ tease. ]
yeah, i don't think professor manuela would take kindly to a rooster in the infirmary. on that note, maybe i should apologize. i've been taking up your nap time.
😳
[He's had a good teacher.]
No need. I wouldn't have been able to go back to sleep anyway.
1/2
all right, then. i've got a brilliant idea!
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it's almost 4:30 and it's Felix. It's just Felix on the other side, both of these messages and that wall -- and strangely, maybe even worryingly enough, that's come to mean something. ]
well, it's just an idea.
how about we find a good vantage point from which to watch the sun rise?
that first icon should be illegal
Sure. Just as long as it's away from everyone else.
too true
[ though Claude knows that if he is harboring that type of concern, it's not an unreasonable hour for it. many of the monastery staff rise in advance of the sun to gain on the day before them. ]
i've got two viewing points in point. one's a hill about a 15-minute from the front gate and the other's the roof of this building.
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[People talk had been Felix's original response. Thankfully, he realized acknowledging that someone might see them, while true, would also mean admitting that he's concerned. Or, worse, that Claude's right.]
cringes don't let me tag at 5 am
viewing points in mind & 15-minute hike, ugh!!][ people always talk.
but he'd get it. he gets it. ]
great. i think we've got about an hour, so let's meet up there in forty, forty-five minutes.
of course, if you don't show i'll assume you succumbed to sleep and start my rooster prowl.
i didn't even notice it...
Fine, I'll be there. Don't be late. And leave that poor bird alone.
bless...
OOC;
OOC;
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He knows of only one way up there, as it's one of many popular spots for Garreg Mach students looking for some solitude or, more accurately, some privacy. Felix never used it much -- just once, when he tried meditation and found that his thoughts were too jumbled and his emotions too angry for him to sit and think about nothing. Whatever. All he knows is that it better be the spot Claude referred to, because it's too early and he doesn't have the energy to go back down and figure a way to contact him for the exact location.
It's breezy up there on the roof, at a comfortable median between cool and warm. The sky is a dwindling purple, with the faintest of orange streaks on the horizon. Sunrise is almost upon them.]
If you're already up here, Claude, you better not be hiding...
[He mutters that behind his hand just seconds before he yawns, too loud for it to be considered polite in noble circles. Like he cares.]
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Wow, Felix, you tried to go back to sleep?In fact, Claude had napped. Just not after 4:30. He'd drifted away over a dusty tome on crestology a little after 3 AM and been woken by Felix's message an hour later. The unevenness of his sleep schedule made it an easy waking, and after thirty odd minutes of riveting conversation, his mind was up. Fully alert, waters active, with whirlpools stirring toward maelstrom.
For that reason, he'd headed up in advance of the proposed time. Oh so eager to meet Felix, he simply couldn't wait, his racing--! Nah. He has a few different haunts that he frequents for morning meditation. Little though some may believe it, he does like to begin his day with it, and early. It helps to calm and sort his thoughts, has done, had helped him make the shift in younger years from the emotional brat he'd been -- embittered, frustrated, argumentative, desperate, hurt, hurt, hurt -- to the unflappable schemer of today.
So dressed in part of his uniform -- the yellow shirt, spacious pants -- he climbed up and picked his way over to his favored perch. He sits there, eyes closed, legs crossed, palms shaped over his knees. Breeze tickling longer strands of his hair against his cheek, loosed from the typical braid.
Felix's voice breaks through, somehow quieter than the yawn that follows. Claude smiles, not yet opening his eyes. ]
Oh, I am hiding. Right out in the open. Do you want to play find the deer, Felix?
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Listen. He was tired, okay. He had to try, even if it ended in utter failure.Felix hears Claude first, and proceeds to follow the invisible path toward the familiar voice. This early in the morning, his senses are not as keen as they tend to be, so he doesn't find Claude right away. No matter. It'll be easy to sniff him out.
He rolls his eyes and makes sure the smirk can be heard in his voice--]
And miss out on the peace and quiet I'd have without you around? Perish the thought.
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How close that rooster came to despair...! also let's politely not overthink how Claude managed to hear that muttered behind Felix's handHaving been out here for roughly forty minutes, Claude had gotten accustomed to the hush of the roof, the trilling of the birds among the background of rustling leaves, the water lapping of the fishing pond lapping against dock and shore below. Once roused from his head, his ears immediately trace the new sound: voice, yawn, footsteps. The wry humor crooked in Felix's response.
By now, Claude can picture his smirk with near-disconcerting clarity. His smile broadens. ]
Yet, here you are, getting closer. Have you considered that you might be a masochist?
[ Now opening his eyes, he leans a supportive hand against the roof behind him, then twisting back to look for Felix. ]
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Felix approaches and yawns again, this time a forced one but can anyone really tell the difference? Claude might, but he tries not to think about it too much.]
To be honest, for me to be out here and at this hour, I'm beginning to think that I am one.
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As Felix nears, Claude grins up at him. The bright lemon of his top, bright flash of his teeth, and his eyes -- not quite. Maybe closer to than they've yet been, whether with Felix or anyone else here. ]
Sure, sure. What a crazy and terrible thing to be on a roof just after 5 AM with that delightful rogue Claude von Riegan.
[ A callback, of a sorts, in that self-description. ]
Well, I can't promise you'll enjoy it, but if you don't, it won't be that terrible.
[ Now patting the roof next to him, if not right next to him, indicating Felix should sit. ]
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[Torture that's worth putting up with, apparently, because Felix doesn't hesitate and promptly and with minimal effort, he sits himself down on the designated spot. And just to make sure, once he's down, he scoots over just the tiniest bit.]
We'll see about that...
[It's nice up here, so Claude gets points for that, even if it's more breezy than Felix is willing to put up with at this hour. After a few moments of having his long bangs whip this way and that into his eyes, he starts to finger-comb his hair back away from his face. Just as smoothly as he does this every morning -- the only difference being his location and his company. It's fine.]
How soon before the sun breaks, anyway?
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Yeah, either Felix is a masochist or he's not as honest with himself as he purports to be. It isn't a new thought. These last months had evidenced that discrepancy in word and action. Felix maintained his brusque irritability with Claude, yet continued to accompany him on hikes into the mountains surrounding Garreg Mach, continued to answer his messages, continued to himself initiate. It might seem equally incongruous, then, that Claude continues to think of Felix as honest. Perhaps because he reads him well enough, because actions speak louder than words, because if the worst Felix can be is blunt and rude and awkward with what and whom he doesn't totally hate, it's really almost charming.
Claude's confident by now that there is nothing intentionally deceptive in Felix. It isn't enough for trust, nothing could be, but there are times where it might feel close. Maybe if he knew better what it felt like to trust, he'd know to be worried in those moments, to pull back.
In any case -- looking up before, though his eyes had long adjusted to the dark, he hadn't been able to fully appreciate that Felix's hair was down. Once he's on eye level, drawing Claude's gaze with the movement of his fingers through, Claude does. Appreciate it. And maybe an hour of sleep makes even Claude slow to realize that he's staring, but sun break gives him a good excuse to tug his eyes skyward. ]
I'm honored that you assume I know exactly how long that will be.
[ ...not that Felix doesn't assume correctly. ]
Accordingly to Cichol's Almanac, the sun should rise in about about ten, fifteen minutes.
i didn't catch it D:
Weren't you the one that suggested this in the first place?
[Whether Claude truly feels honored or not, Felix can't say. He also can't say he cares too much, although that might be a bit of stretch on the truth. While Felix lives his life within the realm of his own choices and feelings (provided they're within the scope of a nobleman's life), there are rare moments when slivers of thoughts are spared for others. Annette's singing, Lysithea's cakes, and even Claude's...well, he can't quite put a finger on what it is exactly about Claude that he's willing to forgive and allow in his space. Yet there he is, willing to spend time with him -- and only him -- on this roof at the crack of dawn for ten to fifteen minutes.]
Hm.
[His head tilts, curious.]
Almanac, eh. Do you always consult one everyday or was this a special occasion?
i think i had "the sun will should in about ten" smh
[ Might have, except that he did check the almanac.
For a guy who claims to care about naught, or little more than, battle and training for it, Felix does seem to give more than cursory attention to his appearance. Maybe not much more, but more. His hair serves as once piece of evidence, his tidy uniform another. Sure, Claude figures that Felix would attribute both to practicality, that sloppy hair and disheveled clothes would get in his way.
Still, he normally cuts a clean figure, and right now, with strands of hair escaping, in lighter clothing, it's notable. Whether or not he feels it, dressing down has the effect of making Felix look almost relaxed. Less like a wolf with a spur in its paw, ready to gnash teeth should any near.
Claude pushes both hands behind him now, leaning back as he kicks out his legs from the cross. Now looking up at Felix. ]
Not everyday, no. Sometimes, yes, for both special and ordinary occasions.
[ Insidious, the creeping growth of smile to grin. ]
Is this a special occasion?
shoulda coulda woulda
And if he feels relaxed, then it's just a side-effect, nothing more.
Maybe.]
I'm not the one that regularly comes up here. You tell me.
d'rdlt ton adluow adluoc adluohs
[ Spoken as though earnest in the question, but the tone does little good when, despite an attempt to mimic a thoughtful expression, his grin gives him away.
There is something else to betray, however, and his delayed realization of it makes the question convenient. It helps him stall without being obvious.
Whether or not Felix really knows it, Claude does come up here regularly. Alone. He'd not once even considered inviting anyone. This shouldn't be too noteworthy -- given the hour at which he climbed up for the sun (or the hour at which he pursued the stars), it wasn't as though could reasonably ask anyone if so inclined in the moment. A matter of serendipity that Felix had been awake now.
That's all. As simple as that. Or that should be all, it should be that simple.
His thoughts have begun to deviate as of late, swamp waters spilling into a creek. Awareness trickling, thin rivulets that gather greater. Cognizance of just Felix, of wanting to invite him up here, of satisfaction when he agreed.
Of something too like an old, stabbing dread, at the unsurprising notion that Felix would hate him.
Yeah, it's special. But, it doesn't have to be a problem. If he's aware of it, he can handle it. Hold it firm and put it away.
So he's casual, matter-of-fact when he answers, though he looks away, searching out the spread of orange in the sky. ]
Of course it's special.
[ now, teasing: ]
I don't invite just anybody up here, you know?
are you summoning a demon
(Dumb question: of course there isn't, and Felix rather prefers it that way.)]
No, you didn't. But it's plainly obvious you do.
[His hand makes a minor, sweeping gesture over him.]
Aside from how easily you invited me and situated yourself up here before I arrived -- and quite comfortably might I add -- you're now saying it's special. And if you didn't come up here often, you wouldn't invite just anybody up here, would you?
maybe
plot twist, it was me all along
https://i.imgur.com/qZdFwaJ.jpg
ngl, expected dio. another plot twist!
o damn... shoulda coulda woulda... instead it was he, felix!
wryyyyyyyy
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