bakerstreet | winter is a lingering season

( definitely! do you prefer previous cr or a fresh meeting? )

[ I was considering a fresh meeting where maybe Jack is responsible for a massive snowstorm that blocks the car from proceeding and Noctis, knowing it's unnatural, goes to seek out the source and finds him. Does something like that work? ]

( sounds good! i wrote up a quick starter 'cause i figured it'd make more sense that i start from a scenario like that, but please let me know if this doesn't work and i'll change it up. )

[ It's cold. It's cold, it's so freaking cold, he can almost fool himself into feeling warmer by the sheer irritation that the cold fills him, from the tip of his toes right up to the tips of his hair.

Stay inside, Noct, they'd told him. The storm will pass. Just give it a few days. Only the Gods had the strength and grace to affect the weather with such force. After all, this is a snowstorm (almost) worthy of the Glacian, from whom he still needed to seek blessing, which.

They weren't wrong, but they were wrong. This wasn't the work of the Astrals; this was the work of something else, something also old and powerful and possibly dangerous, but this wasn't of a God. Noct doesn't know how he knows, just that he does, in the same way that he knows how to phase in and out of reality with but a touch of will, how he can draw fire and lightning from patterns of rock.

And if Gods could be stopped, reasoned with, there's no reason why this -- whatever this may be -- couldn't be as well. Better than getting stranded in a tiny little motel for days on end, right?

Such is the backstory. Such is the backstory that Noct doesn't care for, not anymore, because Gods, it's cold. That merchant who'd sold him their "jacket so warm that it makes you feel like you're in a hot spring!" is so full of it. ]

Hey! [ Behold the Crown Prince of Lucis, yelling into the abyss of a snowstorm, chattering teeth and all. ] Hey, I know you're out there!

[ --That had just be snow that'd just been whipped into his mouth. Yuck. ]

[ The Gods are in danger and the lesser immortal beings, the spirits such as himself, have been on edge.

When something threatens the natural order, there are those who take out their anxieties and rage through their powers. Jack's primary concern, that of the Glacian's well-being, has led to him whipping up a fierce snowstorm, in vague hopes of stopping the mortals who would threaten her from being able to operate their vehicles and thus trapping them and saving her.

Maybe his plan might work for a little while, but he puts himself in danger of being found as well. It's a risk, one that he's willing to take amidst his panic over the growing changes and threats occurring rapidly within Eos.

The winds are strongest around Jack's position. Upon them he hears a shout, words nearly lost in the angry howling. Frowning slightly to himself, Jack walks in the direction of whoever is crazy enough to walk around outside in this weather, his bare feet leaving patterns of ice trailing behind him. ]

What do you want? [ The winds subside enough so that he doesn't have to shout as he approaches the stranger. ]

[ It'd been a shot in the dark, literally, yelling like that. He'd hoped, sure, that something would answer, hoped that this terrible and misplaced weather could be so easily tamed with no more than a mindless, desperate shout. That's not quite what happens, but something does answer, and Noct has to pause for a moment.

An answer. That's more than he'd expected. Faster than he'd expected, but this is him, not complaining. For once. For now.

He squints into the whiteout. He can't even feel his face anymore, and he's not entirely sure if his mouth is even moving when he tries to answer back to what he swears are-- feet? Bare feet? ]

I want you to-- to cut this out. This is your doing, isn't it? [ Even if it isn't, Noct's running on fumes and running out of time. Best to get it all out, just in case. ]

[ He moves closer, the winds letting up further as he wants to get a look at whoever is talking to him- it's strange being talked to at all, by anyone. People usually avoid the winter spirit.

Damn... he looks like he's about to freeze where he stands. As much as Jack is trying to cause chaos out here, he isn't looking to kill people. ]

You're supposed to stay inside. Do you have a death wish? [ He lets out a frustrated huff, annoyed that he's going to have to let up on the storm because one mortal was foolish enough to walk outside seeking him out. ]

You're a pain, you know that? [ But sure enough, the storm is gradually starting to calm down. This isn't the type of thing he can wait on, not when a person probably has mere minutes before they suffer severe consequences if he doesn't cut it out. ] Get back to your shelter so I can get back to my work.

[ It's funny how it's now that Noct shudders, his whole body twitching with the relief of a storm assuaged. Like getting lifted out of an ice bath and into a room with five million heaters, his body finally registering just how cold it'd actually been. If this is what it feels like to face a winter -- monster? creature? spirit? -- thing, then he's really not looking forward to the day that he has to face the Glacian.

Noct rubs the cold from his eyes and squints, barely making out the shapes that eventually comes together as a body. A short body, scrawny. White hair. A child?

Gods, he'd better not be hallucinating this, after all that. ]

Work, huh? Well, I'm not going anywhere if you're just gonna keep this up. [ There's a stubborn set to his jaw, his hands twitching into fists at his sides. It's going to feel awful if he has to fight this thing. (Not a child. Not a child. Not actually a child--) But it's just warning him off and not attacking, so-- maybe he didn't have to. Maybe they could settle this the peaceful way.

But first, ] What are you?

[ Perhaps a living being once (he can't remember...) he's been like this for three hundred years now. This same body, the same wooden staff that he carries in his hand. Nothing about him ever changes, including the fact that no one ever talks to him.

Except now. It's so bizarre that he can't even think about how to approach the situation in the 'right' way. ]

A winter spirit. [ He doesn't even mind the question; it's deserved, all things considered. ] I help protect the Glacian. [ Though not by her request or anything. It's just something he feels gives him purpose. ]

So you'll have to give me a good reason to stop.

[ Wait, hold on. ]

Wait, just. Hold on. [ He almost wants to put a hand to his face with just how much he has to suddenly process. And the kid -- the winter spirit -- hadn't even said all that much.

... Nevermind, he's just. Going to to put his hand over his face anyway. This spirit didn't seem like the aggressive sort, so it should be fine, probably. ]

The Glacian. Is she here? [ That'd be some luck, if she were. The likes of which that Noct so rarely ever sees that he can't even get himself to hope. Still. ] Did you see Luna?

Here? No... [ He feels a little sheepish admitting it; how do you protect someone who's not even around? But he still thinks cutting off traffic from this area should help, at least. Keep the empire at bay. ]

Luna? [ That gets the other boy a curious look. ] Do you mean the Oracle?

[ Why would he be looking for the oracle, and on such familiar terms?

There's a pause as an idea forms. It couldn't be... could it? Seeking out the Glacian (potentially), seeking out the oracle. There's someone who's supposed to be out and about doing that sort of thing right now. The kind of person who would run right into a snowstorm and demand the being responsible cut it out. ] You're not the prince, are you?

[ It's easy to grimace, wince, at a question that he's disliked since he'd actually been a prince (instead of a king of an occupied nation), protected by the safety of Insomnia's walls. There are other reasons for subterfuge now versus then for obvious, heavier reasons, but the discomfort of being called out is still the same.

Yes, I am. No, I'm not. What's it to you? Who wants to know? (Well, he kind of knows the answer to that one, so that one isn't really--)

Pick an answer, Noct. Answer right. ]

... What if I am? [ He braces. Slightly, but he braces. ] Would that help convince you to stop?

[ Jack feels excitement beginning to bubble to the surface at the thought he might be in the presence of the one seeking the blessings of the Astrals. This is an interesting opportunity, one he might be able to seize in order to do something he's wanted to do for a long time but hasn't had the nerve. ]

Maybe. If you'd take me along to see Shiva.

[ Then he'd also be close enough to help defend her more directly. Everyone wins! (well, mostly himself). ]

If you agree, I'll stop the storm and even help you in battle.

[ > Leave it to Ignis

Except the option isn't available here, so Noct is left feeling a little stranded, trying to weigh the pros and cons of trusting a creature that he's just met, one that has enough power to swamp an area in an unnatural snowstorm. Getting it to stop and going their separate ways is one thing, taking it along was, well. ]

... That's it? That's all you want? [ It just... That deal feels too good, too easy, to be true, that's all. ]

winter is a lingering season

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It's great!

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