CAUSE I CAN FEEL THE RAIN
WASH AWAY MY SINS. AND I CAN FEEL THE PAIN
SEEPING OFF MY SKIN
cause every single time i'm searching for a way i'm always lost and never found
A man of his irk did not bode well with idleness; or at least, that's what he'd lead himself to believe across the past few decades. Oswald fancied himself as the adventurous sort, irate at the thought of confinement to a single place at any given time. Stagnation is heaven's ploy to ruin and surely he'd have more than a single lifetime to relish that thought - and he concedes to this truth bitterly at the arrival of dawn, refusing to let another day waste itself into an impasse.
"Hmm..."
The alchemist breathes in, the sound jarring against the lull of the morn, but it manages to still the melancholia that weaved about him ever the same and is thusly a pivotal part of Oswald's early routines. He watched in a rueful tone as his hands pressed numbly into his collar, layering the material over his tie in the meticulous fashion that he'd been used to, all these years. His reflection stirred in the glass, however briefly as Oz moved across the guest bedroom that he'd been allowed to occupy for the last three days. Sir Eliezer's wife had been a magnificent host in the short time he'd known her, yet Oswald longed for a space of his own, and he feared that any more favors from the de Botelle family would only overstay his welcome.
"Lapis." he spoke, the notion directed to the entity behind the bathroom door, "Just how much longer is that powder going to take? You've been in there for well over 30 minutes-!"
An indiscreet hum of disapproval were to be sent his way from the other side as the door lock clicked and turned, a crack in the doorway revealing the bewitching shine of Lazuli's hair and their too coy smile, stretched thinly across a face pale with the alchemist's resin powder.
"Ah, you ought not to be so livid at this time of day, master~" they cooed, laying a hand atop their cheek in mock concern, "Isn't it too soon for those millenniums to catch up to you?"
In response, Oswald sought to no longer endear Lapis in their query as he turned high heel from the gem's relentlessly impudent grin, his movements sharp from the absence of his cloak. "Mercy me, I don't have the time to bicker with you Lapis, please." to his right, the small messenger bag on the bed were to haphazardly rest on his shoulder once he bothered to retrieve it, "Don't dally now - we've things to do and people to ask."
From across the room, the homunculus eagerly padded from one foot to the next, the subsequent heel clicks only slightly lifting the weight of the burden that was keeping up with Lapis. Did he so badly mess up the experiments for this one to be so...unnerving? Never did Oz expect for the specimen to affect a personality as grating as this; perhaps there'd been an impurity in one of the solutions, or further yet, maybe the samples were doomed to begin with, and that Lapis ended up far more humane that any other documented case.
"Right, before I forget."
He paused, sparing his rock assistant a glare before producing a small length of black ribbon and several hair clips from the underside of his palm. "Tie your hair up with this, would you?" he offered, gingerly presenting the items before Lapis' inquiring smile, "While rather amusing, I don't have the capacity to save you in case someone shimmies you away to an auction house. Alright?"
Suprisingly, the homunculus voiced not a single word to the suggestion, claiming the hair items from his person with a grace almost impeccable for something only half-human. "...A-as you see fit." the stone whispered, eventually, the mortified look on their face a testament to the vivid images now currently plaguing their make-shift mind.
Oh, he might've overdone it - but who would've thought such a sly gemstone could make such a vulnerable expression?
Founded on magic and built upon unyielding stone, Magnolia to the observer's eye appeared to be a city that told its own stories - the walls here were steadfast, the streets merry and occupied; yet caution still lingered somewhere beyond its charm in a way that mirrored a sense of turbulence previously overcome. He'd heard from Eliezer in their previous engagements that the city was a hub of both good intentions and the opposite, and that there was no particular reason as to why their four walls attracted even the most destructive cases of evil.
Yet the certainty of companionship and livelihood within Magnolia was something uncontested, having boast a population rivaling many of the neighboring cities that envy was almost unavoidable. With such an advantage, Oswald felt unperturbed by the possibility of going to war once he'd find his name filed into the city's registry. The Alchemist took a liking to the place, so to speak, and if it weren't for Sir Eliezer's presence in his fate, perhaps Oz might have been sharing bunk beds in a mangy hotel in the most backward town he'd ever seen. Of course, Ishgar was not a just comparison to his homeworld, but if this did not satiate his curiosity for the greater forces, then nothing else could.
Mrs. de Botelle, having heard of his ventures, already fashioned the alchemist a map that detailed all of Magnolia's up and downs, complete with tiny footnotes on some of the places of interest that might help him achieve his end-goal. While he surveyed the streets, Lapis were to record their observations in a logbook, marking the locations of some establishments that Oswald might care to visit later on.
"If I'm not mistaken," Lapis began, "Wasn't there talk of a guild hall at the heart of the city? I'd imagine that most of the higher officials would govern Magnolia's jurisdictions from there."
Shrewd as his assistant was, they were unmistakably clever, although he long acknowledged the existence of the guild prior to their little excursion - it'd been the highest place of interest as per Mrs. de Botelle's (Priscilla, as he recalled) own words, after all.
"I suppose it won't hurt." he said, "We're due North then."
Architecture was a curiosity within the arts that the alchemist found to be easily ignored, if not for his original distaste of the current structural trend that plagued the eras he outlived. Grandeur and magnificence that only made the building's schematic more complex somewhat managed to shoo him away to slightly more conservative establishments; and whether or not these were on the basis of his past trauma were left to be answered for a later time. His homeworld that'd been 18th century London as he remembered it still clung to their ancestry of lords and queens such that the castle-esque design lingered with persistence.
Living in the suburbs where the architects limited themselves to somber blocks of concrete was relatively comforting to a man as frugal as he, and the alchemist further agreed to leave any sort of man-made marvel that towered above him without due praise, until such a time that humanity has progressed beyond the fanciful nature of their structures.
That was relative to his Homeworld, however, but for Fiore? The alchemist was inclined to say that he must have sourly underestimated this bizarre world's advancements by a stunning magnitude.
"Master! This building...it's made of glass!"
Palming the transparent glass just ways beyond them, Lapis felt not even a single dose of shame as they moved to satisfy their urges for the new and different with a curiosity outmatching even that of a child's. They're briskly fashioned ponytail swayed incessantly as they eyed the people inside the mostly-glass structure with a grin and a wave, receiving an unwarranted amount of attention in return, and so much so that each exaggerated movement from his careless homunculus sent Oz reeling into a bout of second-degree embarrassment.
"Oh for the love of-!"
The alchemist tugged the stone by their collar towards the guild's also mostly-glass door, the blood that rushed to his face contrasting nicely to Lapis' powder-brushed surface. "Yes, okay, alright," he said, "I think that I represent everyone involved when I say that you'd best come with me and stop whatever nonsense you were trying to accomplish."
The gem sports an expression of mock-disappointment as they feel the weighted heat that clung to their neck, the pressure causing their shoulders to sink as if to the beat of fake tears. "But Ozzie, it's huge! It's a large block of fragile glass and it's so-!"
"Fascinating. I'm aware. No need to further your point."
Atop the material of his gloves formed several pads of paper and a charcoal pencil, and they were to be handed out to Lapis with a click of his tongue as he gave them his direct instructions. "You're to make yourself busy by sketching out the exterior while I talk to the management." he said, "Nothing more than that until I'm back, yes?"
The Lazuli responds with a cheeky grin, one that gained them an arched eyebrow and a curt rejection. "Yes, there will be consequences. I don't suppose you'd rather be on hunting duty in place of Antarcticite, right?"
Whatever mirth that Lapis injected into their wordless replies subsided to make room for a look of horror, their head shaking furiously to affirm their master's desires as they layered the papers over their clipboard.
Satisfied with the soft scratching tones of his assistant's pencil, Oswald proceeds to better survey the interior from beyond the glassy walls. There were not too many a soul present at the current time, but there was something that looked to be a reception area over to one side, so perhaps that could be one route of action - but it might be even wiser to ask beforehand before he pokes into any area he shouldn't be in.
"Excuse me?" he asked, pushing the doors in tandem so that the question bounces off the structure's walls with noticeable reverb.
Having breached the threshold with his presence, the alchemist slights to a pause as if not to further intrude on anyone's business, choosing to keep to himself upon entering the presumed lobby of this..guild, was it? The buzz of things so foreign to him felt a tad disorienting, but nothing a little thinking didn't solve. Fiore was not bound to the realities that he'd known beforehand, and thusly it was more efficient to maintain an open-mind in terms of experiences.
But still, whomever decided to construct a hall with such fragile material must've been a mathematical genius with a sound understanding on natural forces and structural integrity. He'd be more than grateful to speak with such a person in personal for his later projects, although his strategic mind had already reminded him that there was still much to be done prior to consultations. He needed some sort of approval, as with any legal process back in London town.
"Anyone here?"
"Hmm..."
The alchemist breathes in, the sound jarring against the lull of the morn, but it manages to still the melancholia that weaved about him ever the same and is thusly a pivotal part of Oswald's early routines. He watched in a rueful tone as his hands pressed numbly into his collar, layering the material over his tie in the meticulous fashion that he'd been used to, all these years. His reflection stirred in the glass, however briefly as Oz moved across the guest bedroom that he'd been allowed to occupy for the last three days. Sir Eliezer's wife had been a magnificent host in the short time he'd known her, yet Oswald longed for a space of his own, and he feared that any more favors from the de Botelle family would only overstay his welcome.
"Lapis." he spoke, the notion directed to the entity behind the bathroom door, "Just how much longer is that powder going to take? You've been in there for well over 30 minutes-!"
An indiscreet hum of disapproval were to be sent his way from the other side as the door lock clicked and turned, a crack in the doorway revealing the bewitching shine of Lazuli's hair and their too coy smile, stretched thinly across a face pale with the alchemist's resin powder.
"Ah, you ought not to be so livid at this time of day, master~" they cooed, laying a hand atop their cheek in mock concern, "Isn't it too soon for those millenniums to catch up to you?"
In response, Oswald sought to no longer endear Lapis in their query as he turned high heel from the gem's relentlessly impudent grin, his movements sharp from the absence of his cloak. "Mercy me, I don't have the time to bicker with you Lapis, please." to his right, the small messenger bag on the bed were to haphazardly rest on his shoulder once he bothered to retrieve it, "Don't dally now - we've things to do and people to ask."
From across the room, the homunculus eagerly padded from one foot to the next, the subsequent heel clicks only slightly lifting the weight of the burden that was keeping up with Lapis. Did he so badly mess up the experiments for this one to be so...unnerving? Never did Oz expect for the specimen to affect a personality as grating as this; perhaps there'd been an impurity in one of the solutions, or further yet, maybe the samples were doomed to begin with, and that Lapis ended up far more humane that any other documented case.
"Right, before I forget."
He paused, sparing his rock assistant a glare before producing a small length of black ribbon and several hair clips from the underside of his palm. "Tie your hair up with this, would you?" he offered, gingerly presenting the items before Lapis' inquiring smile, "While rather amusing, I don't have the capacity to save you in case someone shimmies you away to an auction house. Alright?"
Suprisingly, the homunculus voiced not a single word to the suggestion, claiming the hair items from his person with a grace almost impeccable for something only half-human. "...A-as you see fit." the stone whispered, eventually, the mortified look on their face a testament to the vivid images now currently plaguing their make-shift mind.
Oh, he might've overdone it - but who would've thought such a sly gemstone could make such a vulnerable expression?
◆◆◆
Founded on magic and built upon unyielding stone, Magnolia to the observer's eye appeared to be a city that told its own stories - the walls here were steadfast, the streets merry and occupied; yet caution still lingered somewhere beyond its charm in a way that mirrored a sense of turbulence previously overcome. He'd heard from Eliezer in their previous engagements that the city was a hub of both good intentions and the opposite, and that there was no particular reason as to why their four walls attracted even the most destructive cases of evil.
Yet the certainty of companionship and livelihood within Magnolia was something uncontested, having boast a population rivaling many of the neighboring cities that envy was almost unavoidable. With such an advantage, Oswald felt unperturbed by the possibility of going to war once he'd find his name filed into the city's registry. The Alchemist took a liking to the place, so to speak, and if it weren't for Sir Eliezer's presence in his fate, perhaps Oz might have been sharing bunk beds in a mangy hotel in the most backward town he'd ever seen. Of course, Ishgar was not a just comparison to his homeworld, but if this did not satiate his curiosity for the greater forces, then nothing else could.
Mrs. de Botelle, having heard of his ventures, already fashioned the alchemist a map that detailed all of Magnolia's up and downs, complete with tiny footnotes on some of the places of interest that might help him achieve his end-goal. While he surveyed the streets, Lapis were to record their observations in a logbook, marking the locations of some establishments that Oswald might care to visit later on.
"If I'm not mistaken," Lapis began, "Wasn't there talk of a guild hall at the heart of the city? I'd imagine that most of the higher officials would govern Magnolia's jurisdictions from there."
Shrewd as his assistant was, they were unmistakably clever, although he long acknowledged the existence of the guild prior to their little excursion - it'd been the highest place of interest as per Mrs. de Botelle's (Priscilla, as he recalled) own words, after all.
"I suppose it won't hurt." he said, "We're due North then."
◆◆◆
Architecture was a curiosity within the arts that the alchemist found to be easily ignored, if not for his original distaste of the current structural trend that plagued the eras he outlived. Grandeur and magnificence that only made the building's schematic more complex somewhat managed to shoo him away to slightly more conservative establishments; and whether or not these were on the basis of his past trauma were left to be answered for a later time. His homeworld that'd been 18th century London as he remembered it still clung to their ancestry of lords and queens such that the castle-esque design lingered with persistence.
Living in the suburbs where the architects limited themselves to somber blocks of concrete was relatively comforting to a man as frugal as he, and the alchemist further agreed to leave any sort of man-made marvel that towered above him without due praise, until such a time that humanity has progressed beyond the fanciful nature of their structures.
That was relative to his Homeworld, however, but for Fiore? The alchemist was inclined to say that he must have sourly underestimated this bizarre world's advancements by a stunning magnitude.
"Master! This building...it's made of glass!"
Palming the transparent glass just ways beyond them, Lapis felt not even a single dose of shame as they moved to satisfy their urges for the new and different with a curiosity outmatching even that of a child's. They're briskly fashioned ponytail swayed incessantly as they eyed the people inside the mostly-glass structure with a grin and a wave, receiving an unwarranted amount of attention in return, and so much so that each exaggerated movement from his careless homunculus sent Oz reeling into a bout of second-degree embarrassment.
"Oh for the love of-!"
The alchemist tugged the stone by their collar towards the guild's also mostly-glass door, the blood that rushed to his face contrasting nicely to Lapis' powder-brushed surface. "Yes, okay, alright," he said, "I think that I represent everyone involved when I say that you'd best come with me and stop whatever nonsense you were trying to accomplish."
The gem sports an expression of mock-disappointment as they feel the weighted heat that clung to their neck, the pressure causing their shoulders to sink as if to the beat of fake tears. "But Ozzie, it's huge! It's a large block of fragile glass and it's so-!"
"Fascinating. I'm aware. No need to further your point."
Atop the material of his gloves formed several pads of paper and a charcoal pencil, and they were to be handed out to Lapis with a click of his tongue as he gave them his direct instructions. "You're to make yourself busy by sketching out the exterior while I talk to the management." he said, "Nothing more than that until I'm back, yes?"
The Lazuli responds with a cheeky grin, one that gained them an arched eyebrow and a curt rejection. "Yes, there will be consequences. I don't suppose you'd rather be on hunting duty in place of Antarcticite, right?"
Whatever mirth that Lapis injected into their wordless replies subsided to make room for a look of horror, their head shaking furiously to affirm their master's desires as they layered the papers over their clipboard.
Satisfied with the soft scratching tones of his assistant's pencil, Oswald proceeds to better survey the interior from beyond the glassy walls. There were not too many a soul present at the current time, but there was something that looked to be a reception area over to one side, so perhaps that could be one route of action - but it might be even wiser to ask beforehand before he pokes into any area he shouldn't be in.
"Excuse me?" he asked, pushing the doors in tandem so that the question bounces off the structure's walls with noticeable reverb.
Having breached the threshold with his presence, the alchemist slights to a pause as if not to further intrude on anyone's business, choosing to keep to himself upon entering the presumed lobby of this..guild, was it? The buzz of things so foreign to him felt a tad disorienting, but nothing a little thinking didn't solve. Fiore was not bound to the realities that he'd known beforehand, and thusly it was more efficient to maintain an open-mind in terms of experiences.
But still, whomever decided to construct a hall with such fragile material must've been a mathematical genius with a sound understanding on natural forces and structural integrity. He'd be more than grateful to speak with such a person in personal for his later projects, although his strategic mind had already reminded him that there was still much to be done prior to consultations. He needed some sort of approval, as with any legal process back in London town.
"Anyone here?"
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Oswald | Lapis | hullo all you pretty people | oz isn't wearing his hat and cloak
Oswald | Lapis | hullo all you pretty people | oz isn't wearing his hat and cloak