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[inklongdry]

INBOX

"Arthur Inkwell here.
I've no earthly idea how this thing is supposed to work, but leave me a message if you're so inclined. I'll retrieve it at some point or another!"

voice • text • action

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day 55, morning

[velluminous]

[ sometime before actual sunrise, he receives a text from—um, "Plagiarist", actually? ]

I would like for you to please tell me you have "bingo".

1/2

[inklongdry]

[ He does that thing where he like... sleepily rolls over to check his texts, barely registers what he's read and then rolls back over for another good hour and a half.

Sorry about that. ]

[inklongdry]

[ But eventually she'll get a text back, from "Errant Archivist". Which isn't nearly as unflattering. Oof. ]

Ms. Vaux? Apologies, I was still in bed.

I have one or two "bingos", but I still have a square or two that needs completed. Why do you ask?

[velluminous]

[ she is STILL AWAKE ]

I have too many incomplete squares. What do you need yet?

[inklongdry]

[ HONEY NO ]

Get felt up under your shirt. Pass along someone's message. Ask a dangerous question. Make out in public. Romantic stroll. Interrogate a friend's potential love interest.

It seems I have more than I thought.

[velluminous]

[ Plagiarist is typing...

...

... ]

Emet-Selch is in solitary. Sphinx would likely wish to know this.

day 64 night

[dreamlord]

[Nighttime comes, and whenever sleeps claims Arthur, whenever he drifts into his dreams, Dream visits — as he said he would.

He is, at first, nothing more than a presence of formless black, inky starlight shining and moving through the man’s mind like a shadow. But slowly, he gains a silhouette, shaping himself into something that looks human, just as he appears in the waking world. Yet in dreams, he is dressed as he pleases: no silly costumes, just an all-black attire, and a long coat that drifts lazily behind him as he walks and takes in his new surroundings.

What is it that he sees?]

[inklongdry]

[ Ul’dah, the jewel of the deserts of Thanalan. A large bustling city of wide roads, sandy stone buildings, and colorful tapestries. The harsh midday sun glints off of gilded roofs, and would send most sensible people scrambling for the shade.

But the markets of the city’s Sapphire Avenue Exchange are packed with people of all shapes and sizes, from hulking roegadyn who stand head and shoulders above the rest, to the diminutive lalafell, and all else in between. (Though folk with leporine features like Arthur’s are very scarce indeed.) Merchants shout at passersby, hawking their wares to anyone who might listen, and everything from cloth to jewelry to food is on display. It feels like the city is ramping up to something, and joy and anticipation spark bright in the market-dwellers. The heat of the day is a mere afterthought to many.

Arthur himself is engaged in friendly chatter with a merchant, a weathered lalafellin woman who smiles at him brightly.

The contents of their conversation is lost in the noise of the crowd, for now. ]

[dreamlord]

[What a remarkable place, and though Morpheus finds himself weaving though the mercantile streets of the city, he understands the shape of its skyline even from below — it reminds him, just a bit, of the Dreaming. Its castle spires, reaching high into the expanse of the sky, though Arthur’s dream is far more arid, warmer.

His clothes change accordingly—an amusing notion, given their last conversation—to whatever is best suited to this dream, to this weather. (Even if his colors are still very much done-up in black.) It does not take long for him to spot Arthur, the source of this dream itself, and Morpheus walks over to him, eying his conversation with another merchant.

For now, Dream just listens. What are they going on about?]

[inklongdry]

[ The woman is still ginning, her smile spanning from one pointed ear to another. ]

Of course, dear. You know I just love seeing what your mother comes up with for the celebration. We're always honored that you come to us year after year for our help.

Please, Mrs. Shori, you know the honor is ours. When it comes to ribbon, yours is second to none. Mother's decorations wouldn't be the same without it.

Ha! That silver tongue of yours must make you quite popular, Master Inkwell. Now, off you go.

[ She, with the help of another worker, plops a bundle onto the counter, spools of silken ribbon in bright colors poking out from the plain cloth they're wrapped in. Arthur offers her a small bow before sliding a pouch of coins over to her. He tugs on the leather lead held in one hand and a chocobo with royal blue plumage steps forward.

He takes a moment to lash the package to the chocobo's saddle and mount up, then they're off at a leisurely pace, winding through the crowd. ]

[dreamlord]

[For the celebration?

Though Dream does not interrupt, he is curious. What sort of celebrations would Arthur’s home have, on a plane so far from the one he knows? One in need of bright, colorful ribbons, a sight that the Endless appreciates from afar as they poke out from their parcel and flicker in the breeze.

Is he close with his mother, he wonders? It is not a foreign idea—many mortals are—yet the concept itself is distant enough that he finds himself compelled to follow and learn. He never planned to linger far beyond his presence, anyway.

The leisurely pace of a chocobo is still one with long, loping stride, and Dream does not want to find himself chasing after. He is here to test his power, and so here comes the first trial: a transformation into a large, black cat, all shadow and silver eyes. He keeps pace this way, winding through the crowd with the quickness of a feline, following, following.

Wherever they end up, somehow Dream is there first, sitting at the doorstep, his tail curled around him. Looks up at Arthur.

Meow.]

day 78

[likewinning]

Hi Arthur. I have a gift for you.

[inklongdry]

Greetings, Emmet. As luck would have it, I've something for you as well. Where would you like to meet?

[likewinning]

I can be waiting for you in the lobby of the motel.

[inklongdry]

Perfect. I shall meet you there in short order.

[ And sure enough, he wanders out into the lobby a bit later, an orange-wrapped package tucked under one arm. ]

day 79!

[veardant]

[ happy starlight, arthur!! outside of his door he will find a neatly wrapped gift, yatagarasu colors, with a little terrarium inside. it's full of air plants.

Mist them once a week with some water, that's all they'll need.
- Tighnari ]

day 79 🎁

[hearthwarming]

[ Arthur will also find a small, kind of flat gift waiting for him in the dorm, with a note: ]

Dear Arthur,
Merry Midwinter!
I hope this present is pleasant and nothing too silly or nefarious...
-Oriphi

[ Inside is a pack of moisturizing sheet face masks, the kind that have a cute (?) animal face printed onto the sheets. ]

day 85

[velluminous]

[ ping! a message from "Plagiarist"! ]

Arthur?

[ that's all, for about ten minutes. then: ping! ]

I need to show you something.

[inklongdry]

Yes, my sky?

[ Sprezzatura don't leave him on read for TEN MINUTES. Now he's worried. ]

Is everything alright? Where are you?

[velluminous]

I am at pool hall.

[ this is not gonna bode well when those feathers erupt, but for now, she is simply drinking and spinning her wheels ]

All is

[ a DELAY ]

well. Come see me?

[inklongdry]

[ All is well? (X) DOUBT. ]

I am on my way.

[ And sure enough a short bit later, he appears at the pool hall, peering around as he enters. ]

Sprezzatura?

ALSO DAY 88

[velluminous]

[ this morning there is simply a note tacked to Sphinx's door that reads:

Arthur—

Come to Basilisk, please.

—S.V. ]

[inklongdry]

[ It has been days. In that time, Arthur has purchased a healing card to use on himself, slept for probably the better part of a day, and re-summoned Clover. (The faerie was treated to a warm embrace and tearful praise over her bravery.)

And now today, there is a note on the door. A note signed S.V.

It's a small comfort to know that Sprezzatura isn't completely avoiding him. So knock knock, Basilisk. ]

'Tis Arthur. I'm here to see Sprezzatura.

[velluminous]

[ this comes after Alec and Henry. which means he'll hear, after a few moments, the rapid thud thud thud thud thud of Sprezzatura sprinting up the stairs to the motel lobby, right before she flings the door open for him ]

[inklongdry]

[ The door flies open, and Arthur is surprised by the suddenness. He spares another moment after that to just look her over, looking for signs of injury from the her oni's escapades in her bodies.

She seems to have been healed, thank the Twelve.

And with that in mind he suddenly surges forward to fling his arms around her and pull her close. ]