inbox

[arcanegrasp]

Elias is often out and about, but he's always glad to hear out anyone who needs to speak with him. Visit him in his home within the lighthouse, catch him out in the bustling city streets, or leave him a letter! He'll get back to you as soon as he can.

((OOC: Gonna get a proper code for this later, don't worry about the format now!!))

Comments

A visitor to the lighthouse

[lasthumanvoice]

Uncaring for the weather and all common sense, Cecil has trekked down to the bluffs and carefully retrieved an item there before squelching his way to the lighthouse. He is, ahm, in poor shape by the time he arrives, slumping against the door as he knocks. The blizzards may very well kill him, if he doesn't learn some common sense.

[arcanegrasp]

With the weather as rough as it's been, Elias is shocked to get any knocks at the door. For a moment, he almost thinks it's some debris that's been knocked around by the wind... but, fortunately for Cecil, he can't ignore the nagging sense that he should at least check.

He opens the door, and his alarm is palpable.

"Goodness, sir, are you alright? You're--- goddesses' mercy, you're soaked!" Elias frets over him, trying to make sure the poor fellow doesn't topple over. "What's going on? Or--- no, no, please, just sit, I'll go find you something to keep hypothermia from setting in, we can talk in a moment!"

Without even hearing why he's there, he's already trying to usher Cecil inside, towards one of the somewhat-decrepit looking old, cushioned chairs he kept nestled neatly under his small dining table.

[lasthumanvoice]

Cecil allows himself to be ushered, and there's a couple times he tries to speak, but the words don't come out yet. The cold is in his bones somehow, heavy as a weighted blanket and just as hard to get out from under.

[arcanegrasp]

Fear not, Cecil - real blankets are on the way! Elias isn't someone who's never recklessly thrown himself into the cold, and in a small trunk, he keeps his woolen emergency blankets, wrapping them around the man as best as he can. By the time he's done, he's looking a bit like a frozen cocoon.

"Try to keep those where they are, alright? We've got to keep your core warm," Elias insists, hurrying over to the kitchenette nestled in the corner. He's already got a kettle on. "I know it's going to be hard to eat or drink anything, but a warm tea should be enough to help you start raising your temperature. And--- you may need to change out of those clothes. Augh, I should have done that before blankets, but--- wait here, and I'll find some of my spares for you, alright?"

Fret fret fret. Even in a deathless place, he doesn't want to let any lives be lost senselessly - and this man who he's only seen glimpses of in passing is no exception to that.

[lasthumanvoice]

"You don't know who I am." The words come out finally as Elias is in the process of running off, spoken to his back.

It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time.

But they planned for this. They had planned for this, and so Cecil's heart only cracks instead of breaking into a million tiny pieces all over Elias's nice floor.

[overheard in the streets]

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"How do you make ghosts happy?" Chris wonders aloud. They almost look like they are speaking with someone, but... nobody is beside them.

At the Lighthouse

[maltesefalcon]

Cerrit isn't really planning to ambush and interrogate Elias. But after the Never-Have-I-Ever party, he'd grown curious about the reclusive mage, enough to spend part of a morning off work flying circles around the lighthouse, getting a literal birds-eye-view. While he isn't intending to intimidate, it'd be perfectly fair of Elias to feel like a buzzard is circling.

[arcanegrasp]

At first, Elias doesn't pay it much mind. He goes about his daily business in his home; he doesn't even notice the circling until he scales the lighthouse's stairs, catching a glimpse of Cerrit's flight out of one of the round windows.

Odd, but nothing too out of the usual, he doesn't figure. He moves on.

Each glimpse he catches puts him further and further on edge, until, after about a half an hour of trying to endure and ignore it, he reaches a breaking point. Jaw tight and brows furrowed, he opens the door, steps down the few steps of his short porch, and, the second he catches sight of Cerrit once more, he calls up to him.

"Officer, excuse me! Can I help you?"

Generally, he doesn't like to be quite so terse, but he's a few too many circles around the lighthouse to be quite as willing to shout his pleasantries into the sky.

[maltesefalcon]

"I'm not here in my official capacity." Cerrit, that's not better. But he wafts down to land on the ground in vaguely polite speaking distance, and immediately fixes a feather or two with his beak.

[arcanegrasp]

Not better at all, but there's at least an ounce of relief. No more than that. Elias' shoulders remain tense.

"I take it you're here for old stories, then?" He asks, folding his arms. "Unless you're interested in the lighthouse, of course. It's a beautiful piece of architecture."

[maltesefalcon]

"I'm here because I don't understand what's going on, on this island, and any information I can get will help me make a fuller picture of the matter. I am not here to judge you, Elias. But I don't even know where to begin, to try and make everything make sense."

He ceases his preening, turning his cold steel gaze on Elias, but his wings tuck back in a way that makes it clear he's not trying to use his size to bully his way to what he wants.

"I have been looking through old records, as you're aware. But I don't trust them to be unbiased. So I want to get a broader perspective."

[itsjustabaddream]

Elias' sending stone lights up with a soft glow and thrums to life, before a voice comes through it. A familiar voice. His tone is strange, distant and low. "Elias."

[arcanegrasp]

Oh.

With how often Elias forgets about the existence of his sending stone, the voice, familiar as it'd ever been, jars him out of some reading. He's quick to snag the powder-green stone off of the table he'd abandoned it on, and does all he can not to let the alarm on his face seep into his voice. It only works so well, what with that tone, one he'd heard many a time before, leaving his throat a bit tight.

"Neil! Hello! Goodness, I---" Papers rustle, a chair creaks. He's even gone as far as to stand up. "One moment, I wasn't expecting any calls, let me find my bookmark."

Some clattering can be heard as he sends another book toppling to the floor before he speaks again.

"How are things?"

[itsjustabaddream]

Neil laughs softly at the ruckus. That familiar clumsiness is so terribly endearing. That voice works every time.

"Troubled, sadly. I don't want to bore you with my tale of woe, but to make a long story short--- Jon left me. Someone from his home world who he had strong feelings for arrived, and he ultimately decided that was where his heart lies. It's been a hard time."

[arcanegrasp]

Elias listens, so attentive that he's practically on the edge of his seat - and when Neil gives the news, there's a twist and turn of emotions. At first, he's indignant on Neil's behalf, a few derisive thoughts crossing the mind - but overwhelming that quickly is this horrible well of excitement that rises in his chest, one that is immediately met with an equal force of guilt for the thrill existing whatsoever.

He scratches gently at his beard, frowning deeply.

"I'm... terribly sorry, Neil. You two seemed to be getting on so well, I'm shocked to hear it. I suppose the heart can be an incredibly fickle thing."

[itsjustabaddream]

"Oh, I have no reason to believe we wouldn't have continued on blissfully had Martin Blackwood hadn't manifested from the void, but alas. I find myself alone once more." There is a long moment where he takes a deep breath. "I hope it's no bother that I called. There was... a time when I could rely on you for nearly anything. I suppose I hoped I could capture another moment of that."

A beat.

"We'd really caught lightning in a bottle back then, hadn't we, Elias?"

A Visit To The Lighthouse

[theydrewfirstblood]

John sees the notice about the research position, and…he’s not looking for work but it feels stupid not to offer his help. He’s there anyway, it feels like a good fit to his oath—and maybe Dr. Coldwood knows some stuff that can help John with hunting, plant identification, or caring for his wild animals.

So one day after seeing the notice—and stopping by Jon’s place in the Bluffs to bring him some jerky he’s finished making, he detours by the lighthouse and knocks on the door.

He’s in the neighborhood, after all.

[arcanegrasp]

For the time it takes, though there's shuffling inside the home, it sounds as though the doctor hadn't exactly been anticipating visitors quite so soon. Within a mere few minutes, though, he's at the door, all smiles beneath that beard of his - though, it's clear from the light furrow of those dense brows of his that John isn't all that much of a familiar face. That's what he gets for being a hermit, he supposes.

"Hello! Are you here about the flyer?" He guesses, side-stepping as he speaks. "Come in, come in! It's going to rain here shortly, by the looks of things. I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting before!"

[theydrewfirstblood]

When the door opens, John is a little surprised himself to realize he hasn’t seen the man before. He’s got a good memory for faces, and this one is new—it’s not a bad thing, meeting new people in this town has become a novelty despite the semi regular arrival of the ferry.

“No, I don’t think we have.” John replies, accepting the invitation inside before offering him his hand.

“My name is John Rambo, I run Baker Ranch over on Juniper? My land actually extends into the forest, and I hunt regularly, so…felt kind of like a no-brainer to offer my help.”

[arcanegrasp]

"Oh, wonderful! Even if you're not looking for an employment opportunity, any new relationship with the foresters of town is hardly anything to complain about," Elias enthuses, and he shakes John's hand firmly, with a distinct energy to it. Clearly, he's in exceptional spirits. "Would you care for coffee? I'd just put a pot on, if so. Also, I do mean coffee, not your standard toasted chicory! Would you believe they've managed to find a decent spot within the caverns to cultivate it?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

John lights up at the mention of real coffee, a broad smile cutting across his face.

"There's a dirty joke in there somewhere 'bout how bad I've been wanting a cup of the real stuff." he chuckles, nodding. "That'd be great, thanks--and I'm not super fussed about payment. Hell, you wanna barter that works for me: my info brings up something I can make use of, share the wealth. Otherwise, you can pay if you can and feel like it. God knows it wouldn't hurt given I have two teenagers in the house at any given time and they're walking black holes."

It's said with no small measure of affection--John will let them eat him out of house and home, and be content with his lot.

Job Interview

[xiaoxiuya]

[Following a few days after this exchange.]

It's going to be very embarrassing for him, Shen Qingqiu thinks grimly, if Elias turns out to be a perfectly nice recluse with no ties to any cult whatsoever. Not only will he owe the man an apology, but Captain Kilbride will probably turn this incident into an object lesson on Why We Don't Listen to Demons -- and she'll be right to do so. But first, he thinks, resigned, he has to see this through. Even though the tone and content of Dr. Coldwood's letter had given him second thoughts, being nice is not by itself proof of a lack of cult involvement. He could simply be a very good actor. Which means that, no matter how farcical he may not suspect it to be, Shen Qingqiu still needs to see this through.

Which means actually doing the interview he and Elias arranged.

Shen Qingqiu sighs and fixes a pleasant smile on his face, feeling vaguely like he's channeling Yue Qingyuan as he knocks on the lighthouse door. In his other hand is a small wooden box, a treat for his host. It's been over ten years since he had to interview for anything, and he's forgotten most of the etiquette. Better to treat it like a scholarly social visit than try to put himself back in the role of a shy nineteen-year old trying to get an internship for credits.

[arcanegrasp]

It takes little time for the door to be opened, and for all the formalities Shen Qingqiu has prepared, it seems his "prospective employer" didn't think to have himself quite so well-kept.

His clothes and the back of his hair alike bear scattered forest debris, the odd stick and leaf sticking out of his person, try as he might to have clearly dusted off the front of his person beforehand. Even disheveled as he might be, though, the smile on his face is as bright as ever, radiating nothing short of delight.

"Ah! Shen Qingqiu, I take it? You're right on time, please come in!" He steps aside, urging him in with gusto. It looks like, at some point, he's attempted to tidy the inside, at least - though that doesn't stop the room from being positively littered with stacks of books and assorted tools. "Make yourself at home! I'll need just a moment more to finish stowing away some samples I'd taken this morning, and we'll be able to get right into your interview."

[xiaoxiuya]

Honestly, Elias's appearance is a bit of a relief. Shen Qingqiu is very fluent in several different dialects of Nerd, and mystical creatures are genuinely a simple interest of his. Keeping his cover should be simplicity itself.

"Thank you for having me," he says modestly. Before Elias can turn away he holds out the box, saying, "Ah, this is for you. A gift for my host."

Inside are four pastries from Max's bakery, suitable for eating with tea or whatever else Dr. Coldwood would like to do with them.

[arcanegrasp]

The gift gives Elias distinct pause, but he lights up at the offer, taking a peek inside. There's never a bad time for something bready and sugary, and he looks entirely pleased. "Oh--- this is lovely! You didn't have to do all that, but I certainly do appreciate it. Surely you'll share one while we talk, won't you?"

As soon as Shen Qingqiu's inside, Elias closes the door softly, sets the box aside on his cluttered dining table, before he sets to work. Namely, with tea - he's been experimenting with a few strange floral blends from Paradesium, and he's mostly certain that he's figured out exactly which flowers had some rather unsavory effects. He chatters all the while, however, even as he gives his guest free reign to settle into the wide, open space.

"So! I'll be entirely honest with you, I haven't done this sort of thing in years," Elias prattles, idle but upbeat. "Not to mention that hiring a sailing crew is entirely different from hiring on fellow researchers! I hope you'll pardon me as I figure it out piece by piece. Oh, as an unrelated note, you haven't got any allergies to be aware of, do you?"

Would anyone know they were allergic to Paradesium's flowers? Possibly not. He's not really thinking that far ahead, however, oops.