Joshua Rosfield (
kingincognito) wrote2025-01-08 10:20 pm
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INVENTORY · His canon clothing. · His canon sword, The Burning Thorn. · His half of The Founder's Grasp, a pair of bracelets of which Clive possesses the twin. NOTE: Ydalir has enchanted this bracelet, allowing Joshua to assume the form of a small, cockatiel-sized Phoenix. · His copy of the Journal of Moss. · A photographed family portrait of his own family, in fine (but not royal) clothing and appearing happy. · A stock of medicine for his coughing, supplied by Pure Vanilla Cookie. · An ear cuff, custom made by Sesa and gifted to him by Dion. NOTE: Ydalir has enchanted this ear cuff, allowing Joshua to create a small ball of light similar to Dion's that fires three quick laser blasts before disappearing. · A small stolas, requested from home. Her name is Willowisp, and she coos a lot and accepts snacks. NOTE: Pure Vanilla Cookie has now linked her as Joshua's familiar. |
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Joshua, out of the kindness of his heart, had not expected Clive to use his gesture - of kindness - as a tool against him. So, it does indeed throw him off balance, and down he goes.
Except his wings flare out in reflex on the way down, knocking a stack of books off the arm of the couch and on the floor. Oops.
But the tickling makes him shriek in laughter, wings flapping behind him as he squirms to try to get away. ]
Clive--!
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Hm?
[ Pretend innocence as he digs his fingers into his brother's side, under his arms, finds the places that would always make him shriek when he was young. Just for this brief moment, those eighteen years never happened. There's no worries, there's just them, rough housing and enjoying life.
He stops before he causes his brother to die, pulling him into a hug, tight and fierce. ]
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And oh, does his face hurt. He hasn't smiled this much in... in years. It's like they're children again, rough housing in the solar until one or both of them were scolded for it. Just like then, he can feel the tight brush of an oncoming cough, but unlike then, he can swallow it back. Not now. Not this. Let him have this.
When Clive pulls him in to that tight hug, Joshua hesitates only for a second out of surprise alone. But then, he returns it with equal fervor, breathing hard and still smiling from the laughter. ]
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He loves his brother, with all the strength he has in him. Carefully rests his head against his brothers, his arm tucked tight against his back, under the joints of his wings. Takes a moment to simply enjoy this moment in time. ]
I missed you.
[ An odd thing to say, maybe, but it's true. They haven't had a time to rest since they've met up with each other again, to re-bond as brothers. They've been God-killers, Outlaws, Profane. But, until this world, not merely Brothers. And he's missed it. ]
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What Clive says isn't odd, not to him. He understands. Eighteen years apart was more time than they ever spent together. They missed out on so many things because of Ultima, because of their mother's lust for power... But not anymore. Never again. ]
I missed you, too.
[ His voice is thin, a little watery and choked. Partially from emotion, partially from holding back the need to cough. ]
But we won't be apart again. I swear it.
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Never again.
[ He sighs heavily and loosens his grip, smiling a little before helping Joshua to sit back, shifting his tail to try and keep it from being trod on or squashed. ]
Drink some water, it'll help the tickle.
[ Joshua he knows you. ]
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But the tickle is calling, and he can't escape it forever. And even Clive is noticing, because of course he would. So, after his brother helps him to sit back, he politely turns his head, lifts his hand to his mouth, and lets the cough have its way with him. ]
Some things don't change...
[ Ugh. He does need a sip of water, so he pushes himself back up to his feet. But first, he holds a hand out to Clive again. ]
Your horns are stuck in the couch.
[ He trusts his brother won't yank him down again. ]
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He takes his brother's hand this time, up near his elbow for a better grip, and let's him help him to his feet.
His horns bring a cushion with him. ]
Were stuck in the couch.
[ He very carefully turns himself to begin picking up the mess he's made, collecting the cushion to put it back, then herding the pillows back up onto it as well. Rearranges the sheets and blankets. Turns carefully again, grinning a little. ]
Ready for food?
[ No teasing this time or he'll prolly jam his tail in the door. ]
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We should find some protective padding to put on the end of your horns. I'd hate for you to get stuck on something, or worse.
[ Hmm. He'll have to look around, see what he can find. But Clive isn't the only one to clean up the mess. Joshua helps. After all, he made some of the mess himself. Books get stacked neatly back where they had been before his wing knocked them off. ]
I think so. Let's hope we don't get anything stuck in a door or stepped on.
[ He's looking at his own pinions. He doesn't even want to think about how painful it would be to have one or more of them yanked out. ]
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[ The idea is insulting and makes Clive wrinkle his nose much like his brother would. He doesn't do it often but sometimes that Rosfield trait pulls through. Not that he doesn't understand where his brother is coming from... Sigh.
The idea of getting stuck in the door, and the way Joshua is looking at his own pinions, makes Clive frown. His tail wont get pulled out but those feathers. ]
You first.
[ ... Actually. Before Joshua can step out, he stops him. Grabs the sheet off the couch. Carefully fits it under Joshua's wings and over his shoulders to work it into a top. Enough to hide him.
There. Better. ]
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[ He'd rather play on the safe side, honestly. Whether his brother agrees or not, he's going to look into what might be good for padding.
But while he turns to leave as Clive has indicated, he isn't expecting Clive to stop him. Joshua turns, angling a wing so that he can look over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow, and then he's assaulted with fabric. It takes a moment to figure out what his brother is even doing, and once it registers, he sputters softly. ]
And what about you? Don't you need a shirt?
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Then glances up as his brother like better? With a soft little grin, before gesturing for his brother to step through the door.
They both look a little ridiculous but it's going to have to work until they can get shirts and pants that work... ]
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We'll speak to Ain as soon as we can.
[ He frankly has no idea how he's going to be able to put on a coat like this. Not unless he cuts apart the coat he has now. But, they're not going outside now, so it's fine. He exits the room, waiting in the hallway to make sure that Clive doesn't have any issues with the doorway. ]
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The sooner, the better.
[ He follows his brother out the door and takes the time to make sure his tail is entirely through before shutting it. But just because your tail is entirely through doesn't mean you calculated for horns, and there's a soft clunk as he closes the door into them.
He merely sighs and gestures for his brother to walk as he rubs his head. There went all his brother's hard work. ]
What would you like to learn to cook?
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Let's begin with something that you're familiar with making. Your skill is... admittedly far better than my own.
[ He knows how to cook, in theory. A very estranged theory. In practice, it would be a nightmare. ]
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Hm, some roasted vegetables then. It's hard to mess those up.
[ Not impossible of course, but he has faith in his brother as they make their way to the Inns kitchen. ]
I know you're very eager for your sugar beet, but maybe a potato?
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But, he does sigh at the return of the sugar beet. He'll get his own sweetened tea in time. ]
Potatoes would be just fine.
[ He thinks he can manage that. Probably. ]
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Go ahead and make your tea, first.
[ He moves around the kitchen with ease as he knows where everything is, finding the potatoes to begin cleaning them. ]
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Would you like any?
[ He asks, as he fills the kettle with fresh water and sets it atop the flame. ]
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[ He knows Joshua won't add sugar or cream to his. He ponders the potatoes, trying to decide what would be easier for Joshua. He thinks he'll start his brother on baked first. ]
Can you get the oven going? Make it pretty hot, we're baking a potato.
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Mm? Baked?
[ That's... well. He supposes that's the same as being roasted, in a way? Retrieving a tin of tea leaves, he moves back to the oven. How... does he get this going. After a little bit of exploration and pondering, he figures it out. But how hot is "pretty hot"? ]
What do we need to do?
this is gay
We need to let this reach the right heat. Like a forge, we can't stick the potato in while it's too cool or it won't bake right.
[ His tail sways, Clive pleased he's figured this out (ovens are neat) and sends a few bags of vegetables tumbling.
He growls. ]
I'm chopping it off and you can't stop me.
#rosfields
I see. And if it's too hot, it will burn?
[ It makes sense.
Though, because he's not looking, the sudden smacking and knocking over of the vegetables startles him, and his feathers ruffle up in surprise. Yes, including the downy ones peppering his hair. Founder-- He takes a moment, smoothing them down with his hands. ]
No you aren't. Because if you do, I'll have to heal you to stop the bleeding.
[ Not that he takes his brother's threat seriously, of course. ]
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[ He helps smooth the ruffled feathers of his brothers hair down with a soft snort, then tries to figure out a way to wind his tail around so it doesn't get in the way anymore, as he goes to begin picking vegetables up before just... sweeping them into a corner.
Don't judge him. ]
And yes. Ovens aren't really like our wood fires. They keep the heat in, which I found out means if it's too hot it will just cook everything faster.
[ Unlike fire which is burnt because you're an idiot and didn't take it away fast enough. ]
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[ "--be responsible for you dying again." That's almost what he says, but he bites it off, holding his tongue. He doesn't want to think about it.
So, instead, he stands, watching his brother sweep vegetables into the corner like a child. Clive, those are perfectly good. ]
How long does it take to bake a potato, then?
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cw: suicide ideation
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