[ Outside the dreary city, it's almost a fashionable car to arrive to a wedding in! Not that anyone out in the Fringes really cares about style or pizazz, regardless if they notice their passingby. Since it's a wedding, Aglaea at least took the time to dress somewhat appropriate for the occasion, in the event that blending in did matter, wearing a floral top underneath a smart blazer and matching pants. She's been working on her professional attire for the opening of the baths, and so it seemed fun to exercise some of it while the items were at their newest.
She hums in answer as she waits for her threads to fill the lobby and paints the picture of the room they had entered. ]
Perhaps it is a wedding in setting alone? I can't say I mind the quiet. The purposes of these Fringe adventures are to gather supplies, no? [ Her head turns toward him for a moment. ] I think I would feel somewhat ill-at-ease were I feel as though I were taking from a true celebration.
[ Cold, but not wholly heartless. Her shoes, equally smart, click against the floor as she moves a little further in. She breathes in what her threads cannot sense for her. ]
It smells wonderful. I believe this is what they call Greek cuisine; nearly the same as what I grew up with in Amphoreus. Perhaps they'll have a desert I've been missing since then?
[ To that he hums over the idea of it being setting alone - the sort of thing which makes him think of the various sets for filming around Penacony in its many locations. It's possible this is that in its own way, and the attention to detail is quite admirable. If asked, Sunday's not sure what he expected but even upon hearing 'wedding' when it came to diffusion zones, he wasn't imagining this.
Examination of the plants can wait as he looks up from the arrangements - ones also tastefully done that speak to someone's elaborate planning, and at that Sunday chuckles slightly. ]
You're quite right. It hardly takes much to imagine those not familiar with the Fringes frowning upon this in more ways than one. If this is some sort of set, that's rather fortuitous.
[ One more glance into what looks like the main room shows it's empty, no sign of any of the wedding party or even any guests which further adds to the effect of being here by themselves. Something Sunday's starting to believe as Aglaea mentions the food he'd temporarily passed over, though he looks back to the tables with more interest at the mention of Amphoreus. ]
We should look for it since it seems the catering is quite elaborate. [ If the number of dishes waiting to be served is anything to go by, this is quite the celebration. There's a few tables full of them, and Sunday moves to lift the lid of one serving dish only to wave the steam away. ] There may be a table with desserts though this one appears to be entrees. Perhaps closer to the cake in the corner?
[ The idea of experiencing a little bit of home does excite her more than she could express (literally). She follows him, peering into serving dish in the way a sighted woman might – although it's purely for olfactory reasons she hovers nearby. Most of this looks more like bastardized Greek or Turkish food, although Aglaea doesn't really know what either of those places are.
Although Aglaea hums to signify an approval, her hum is interrupted by an audible question-mark. Her head tilts. ]
Something has tugged on the threads. Although... it's not whole at the moment.
[ She declares with a certain worry, because it's rare that her threads cannot clearly paint a picture of the world around her. A ghost, perhaps? Even spirits cannot escape the threads, but for the moment the naked eye would see them as alone. ]
You may have to apprise me of what visions meet your eyes, Sunday.
[ From her experiences with Ardbert, she has some inkling that what she sees on the threads are not always consistent with the world around them. ]
[ The mention of her threads has Sunday looking up though it seems what it is remains an unknown. The same even as he reaches out to any resonances and finds none in their immediate surroundings. That might change as they move further in, though the absence of anything either of them can detect has him putting the lid to the buffet dish back down to close it. Sunday's focus turns to their greater surroundings, first appraising the room they're in closely once more with his attention fully upon it. ]
I cannot sense anything here either beyond the two of us. [ Now that does unsettle him a little more where it hadn't before as he frowns and takes a step forward towards the open room just beyond this one. ] I would've thought that—
[ But there it seems that several people abruptly come into focus as if waiting for anyone else; he pauses in the doorway but none of them turn to look his way as they're apparently engrossed at the altar. ]
It seems there... is a wedding after all. [ Said with no small amount of puzzlement in his voice as he glances back over his shoulder to Aglaea before looking forward again. ] There is a party here now gathered like they're either waiting for the ceremony to begin or that it's already began before they faded into view.
[ Or something else is happening since rather than standing there with the serene smiles he might've expected, one bridesmaid's face contorts in anger and he adds, ] They seem upset about something though I cannot quite hear why.
[ Although wisps only tickled the threads moments ago, when Sunday enters the room, the sights he sees now blaze into her fingertips. She follows carefully after him with a small frown on her lips. ] Strange, [ She comments, her voice mild as he elucidates his vision to her. Perhaps a touch inconsiderate, she fails to confirm that their sights now align. ]
Given their unspirited states, whether they're upset means little. [ Their feelings bear no threat along the threads, and though one of them may make a face, there's no heat there – at least as far as she can tell. They're not actually people, one shoudl reason! So why should she worry overmuch! (She will.)
Aglaea moves into the room before him. Her fingers brush over the ivy which climbs a barrier. Faux, certainly, as her fingers brush the texture to be certain. She continues her thought: ]
And, it seems they do not mind our presence. I'm sure we would be fine to go about our business, Sunday. What do you think about these as an accent wall in the lobby area? They already seem quite handsome in this space.
[ Sunday continues to watch the wedding party as the bridesmaid who looked incredibly angry now shoves the bridesmaid next to her, frowning all the while. There's still no sign that they've been noticed and with no resonances to pick up on even with getting closer, he's inclined to agree with Aglaea's assessment.
For all he's considered the diffusion zones being so close to the Dreamscape and memoria itself, maybe this is truly the time he's walked into a memory bubble where what in it was something in the past and immutable.
It's with that in mind he turns away with his attention going back to the room itself when there's nothing they can do about what seems to be escalating if that is the case. That much Sunday's familiar with as he turns to face Aglaea and to appraise the walls in question. ]
The greenery here is rather nice. It seems like it would add to the interior with something easy to maintain... or as a backdrop to add in a few other plants for the simplicity of not having to care for quite so many as would be needed for an entire wall.
[ Or so he thinks, anyway; he can't say that he really did any maintenance on his office or his own living quarters beyond straightening them now and then or enjoying the occasional floral arrangement. The latter is what he's thinking of as he takes a half step back to consider the wall again, head tilted slightly to one side. ]
Perhaps this would also be ideal for a seating area if a place might be needed for guests to sit or gather with a bit of privacy compared to an open room.
[ Eventually, the ruckus will be difficult to ignore. It is a little weird to feel no emotions along the threads while there is clearly great ravaging happening not too far off. Aglaea smiles softly as Sunday joins her. ]
A seating area... That may be nice. Yes, I think that is an excellent proposal. I'll need to consider suitable chairs as well. [ An unrelated thought strikes her, and she decides to share: ] I have occasionally wished the tubs were larger at the venue. Okhema had such wonderful settings laid out for enjoying jam and cheeses while soaking ones feet in the warm water. Although, crumbs were often an issue.
[ She tugs a bit at the silk vines, frowning now. ] They seem unfortunately difficult to move. Sunday, would you mind—
[ While she starts to turn, her faint expression changes slightly. Surprise? It's not too often Aglaea has a genuine emote. With SPD unmatched, her hand shoots out to grab Sunday's shirt and yoinks his ass down to the ground. A chair summarily flies over their head and crashes into the ivy partition, making it ache backwards and smashes the structure as it strikes the ground.
She glances up, surprisingly dignified. She brushes his clothing where she grabbed on, feeling a bit bad for ruffling his nice attire. ] Are you alright?
[ Chairs. That's a good point since there's a couple armchairs that are also quite suitable to what Aglaea is describing just a few feet away. He'll have to look at those in a second since his attention is pulled towards what she describes of Okhema's baths.
The very topic he was about to ask about, curious as he is to know more beyond what plans she's already shared when it comes to creating a space much like them in Panorama. A sight he might've been able to see under different circumstances, though a short laugh leaves him at the mention of crumbs being a problem, what with that being easy to picture - and something he would've found an issue.
He's about to say as much though Aglaea moves abruptly and Sunday finds himself pulled out of the way with a small noise of surprise. The 'why' quickly becomes clear when he startles at the crash not a second later complete with the feathers on his wings standing out in another indicator of that alarm which takes him a moment to smooth away. ]
I— I'm fine. Are you? [ Asked with genuine worry though she seems to be even as he turns to her once he's recovered, and then looks to the wedding party. ] It seems things have escalated considerably.
[ He's got more to add to that than confirming the obvious based on what just happened, since now Sunday can't help a sharp inhale as the maid of honor draws her arm back and punches the bridesmaid who'd been angry seconds ago. ]
I believe that chair was meant for someone else since the wedding has... not continued.
[ Thank goodness the Hero's Baths are hers to maintain crumb free!
She nods, rather confidently, about her status. The most fine, knowing that Sunday is also alright! And another, somewhat more defined nod as he observes the suddenly very aggressive nature of the party they're now mixed into. ]
I'm unsure what any of this is "meant" for, to be frank. [ Considering none of it has a single emotion to the threads. It's actually a bit frustrating, considering they are now in apparent danger of the guests at the party. ]
Sunday, I must ask: is this what I should be expecting of these diffusion zones? Or would you wager this is somewhat out of the ordinary? A wedding turned gladiatorial prowess is a bit more than I was anticipating compared to the two other, short excursions I have had, which I understand is a fairly poor pattern to build on.
[ She draws her head back slightly as a fork flings past. There's a gargling sound somewhere else. Probably better not to look too hard in that direction. ] And, perhaps, another question: whether it is better to resolve these things or let them play out.
[ That is a question which really does deserve an answer. For either one, really, since as Aglaea wonders what this is meant for Sunday cannot help but wonder that at this moment when this particular diffusion zone is... well, different to those he's explored before.
For one, if anyone was getting attacked by something it tended to be him with only one opponent and not an entire group - aside from the run in with the gnomes he's now recalling also happened. A complete wedding party is a new one, however, so Sunday offers something that's half laugh, half anxious exhale into a sound which isn't fully either.
Which explains nothing, and so - ]
I... have not run into this sort of situation so far, though there have been some dangers. [ A good start to admissions, but not enough of an explanation either. ] Nothing unmanageable and more often than not, the places I've walked into seem to be deserted. Almost as if those who were there either left it suddenly or left it some ages ago depending on the state of what objects or scenery were left behind, but.
[ One pause for him to grimace and then he continues. This time with an apologetic tone which should've been there from the start, most likely. ]
This is quite out of the ordinary for me, too, Miss Aglaea. I was hoping this would be a case of one of those abandoned sites, and not - [ as another distinct noise suggesting what's happening interrupts while Sunday decidedly doesn't look that way - ] what's happening here. It might be best if we retreated back to somewhere else.
[ Aglaea nods, quietly listening to Sunday explain himself and his experiences in the Diffusion zones. Unfortunately for her, she can't really look away from any of this as her threads are now entangled in the abruptly violent skirmish. If she keeps her unseeing eyes resolute on Sunday, hopefully he is not accidentally inclined to turn his head.
It's difficult, though. A voice screams show me the beauty of battle!, another that says let me see those beautiful muscles! with glee, and a woman who yells I am a golden god! It's a mixture of rage and glee that spurs these wedding pugilists on. You know, this turning into a JoJo reference. Anyway...
Aglaea is ignoring that, because she doesn't get the reference. She even draws a hand over her ear because it's really quite noisy, and it disturbs her delicate eardrums. She nods at last. ] I think that would be the most advisable course of action.
Here, [ her hand reaches out and a glimmer of her threads manifest, coiling around the leg of a table. She quickly draws it toward them – it's a modest size. ] Please take this to protect your core and head as we exit. I should be able to anticipate any oncoming threats with my Golden Threads for myself, but I fear I am unable to split my focus for you, Sunday.
[ The glimmer catches his attention as it appears and then the table is drawn closer, as Sunday makes no attempt to hide watching with interest as it moves.
And Aglaea has certainly thought of something he hadn't, possibly betraying his continued lack of combat experience even with what he's mentioned uncovering in the diffusion zones. The table proves to be an adequate shield when it's next a rather pointed high heel which comes flying their way. Dangerous, but still not something he'd like to be hit with when his own SPD proves to be slightly faster.
It hits the table instead as he tilts it to deflect it, and then holds it up with a nod to Aglaea. ]
Thank you. That was quick thinking on your part and I'll do my best to make good use of it.
[ The absolute least he can do is cover them so that Aglaea doesn't have to handle it entirely or split her focus at all... assuming he can uphold this promise.
The first test comes when a scream precedes some crashing coming from the front. Something else sails by them with the aim thankfully too wide as he doesn't catch what it is, but it'll make getting back to the banquet area more interesting even if it's not far. ]
[ She mutters under her breath as she reaches out to pull the high heel out of the table. ] I would need to be in quite the foul mood to ever conceive of heels this perilous. [ The shoe is tossed aside without dignity. She urges Sunday upright and onward. ]
I ask myself if perhaps weddings in other worlds could normally be this rambunctious, [ she comments with some irritation as she follows gently after Sunday, ] or if this is merely a twisted delusion crafted by whatever forces bind us to this world. It certainly paints a vision of "Romance" I would apply to none.
Forgive me— [ she snags the table Sunday uses as a shield to stop him in his tracks. Two of the grooms fall before them, wrestling. It's really an awful sort of wrestling. She peeks around the shield, not to see better, but merely to be heard better. ]
An inadvisable course, yet perhaps the only one we are deigned: to tread over these two pugilists toward our escape.
[ It's probably not all that funny, given that they don't know exactly what sort of peril they might be in from what Sunday had thought would be an uneventful location even with the wedding happening, and yet a sort of laugh escapes him all the same as Aglaea mentions it'd take specific circumstances for her to create the shoe they'd dodged. ]
I am also quite certain this would not apply to the definition of romantic many would attribute to such occasions in their own world. I'm sure that—
[ Whatever Sunday was going to go on about will be a mystery (probably for the best) since as Aglaea pulls on the table he stops immediately to glance over at her as if the commotion before them is of no concern. It's absolutely a concern, and yet at the same time being around more than a little chaos for years has made his scale for evaluating it slightly untrustworthy.
Back to the men before them it is, then, as he considers their options. Of which there aren't many when this is absolutely the path they need to take out of here, and then he hums. ]
If this is an effect of the diffusion zone, the objects here seem to be quite real given this was already here. But the wedding party was not until we drew closer, almost as if what's playing out was waiting for us all along. [ There's a point in there somewhere that he's getting to, which is - ] If we make it back to where we started, then this may just end.
[ Or so he's going to hope while taking a step over, around, or whatever will get him past the men wrestling each other. ]
[ Aglaea will absolutely find this "funny" later, because let's be real, it lines up perfectly with her weird, twisted sense of humor. But wrapped up the center of the chaos, it's hard to find any of this anything but frustrating.
She hums, a small, unhappy tune on her breath as she concurs. ] It does seem like a fair assessment. Please do be careful as you tread.
[ While Sunday is quite brave in stepping over the wrestling men, Aglaea seems significantly more trepidations as she stands on the opposite side of what feels like a Grand Canyon to her. She's staring straight head, but her "eyes" are more fixed on the two groomsmen before her as she frowns. She looks... uncomfortable, although the feeling doesn't paint itself well on her expression. ] Forgive me, I'm concerned about becoming wrapped up in their entanglement.
They're.... rather unpredictable. [ Which she continues to feel very uncertain about unpredictability.
With Sunday already bearing a table to ensure his safety, she can't exactly turn to him for help. Instead, she stands there, trying to gauge the best opening for herself, overthinking the situation before her somewhat. Unfortunately, if Sunday does look back at her, he will get a reasonable view of what can only be described as absolute carnage. Witness murder y/n? If yes, Aglaea continues to stand there. If no, Aglaea will trip trying to get over the combatants at just the right moment. ]
They are, and I cannot say that I'm fond of not knowing what's going to happen.
[ In any situation, really, since he'll be honest with himself about that. The dislike of not knowing what to do here is exponentially increased; hard for it to not be (by his own logic) when it was his idea to visit here and now they have ended up in Whatever This Is.
With the table held up around him still there's really nothing to do but figure out what to do beyond standing there, though right as Sunday takes a step the men wrestling on the floor come his direction. An action he only barely manages to dodge though by doing so... he essentially ends up not all that far from where he'd started. Time to frown.
Actually, time to look at Aglaea to see how she's faring when her own path might be better so he turns. Right in time for a knife to be produced at the alter and even Sunday with his unbreakable composure can't help a gasp. ]
Miss Aglaea, I— don't turn around, if you can avoid it.
[ A suggestion which means most will turn, though now he's coming back with the table. There must be a way to share it as he looks at the ground again. Then - wait a minute. ]
I'll take the risk of items being thrown, but we should be able to use the table to keep anyone from coming near us.
[ Said as he sets it down on the ground, intending to move it along as they walk. It's not the strongest way to block the men. At least they can run into it instead of into them, with any luck. ]
[ Sunday's failed attempt to navigate the River of Man has her even more ill-at-ease as she "looks" at the scene before her. And, uh, well, although Sunday advises her not to look, her head does lift to "look" at him. ]
Sunday, my threads do not permit me so easily not to "see" that which is around me...
[ Which is to say, sadly, she may as well have turned around. Aglaea's composure is extremely unshaken by the murder that takes place behind her. Her expression is sadly, very flat, perhaps looking every so slightly tilted toward annoyance than actual mortification. She's just grateful that whatever splash damage is taking place behind her is far enough away that her clothing will not be ruined.
Aglaea maintains her focus on Sunday regardless, unmoved, as he puzzles through the situation they find themselves in. Teh table meets the floor once more, and her brows lift as he proposes his idea:]
Oh! How clever, [ She smiles slightly. ] Let me help you push.
[ There's no reason for a table this size to need two people pushing it, but considering it is now the barrier at their front, it seems fair to have them both working together.
And honestly, it's an incredible even on execution idea, because when the table meets the side of one of the men, his head turns fiercely to start gnawing on it with a vengeance. Oh god. ]
How disturbing... [ But, it works like a charm to push them out of the way. It's the homestretch Sunday!! ]
[ It does help to push the table, if only for the distraction from The Murder happening around them though it's also sort of indistinguishable from the rest of the chaos at this point. An unfortunate background note to everything more immediate when none of it seems to be avoidable for too long as one thing happens after another.
Still: teamwork! The table does seem to help and Sunday would be lying - to himself, at any rate - if he wasn't pleased by that. Certainly something else to focus on, right up until the table gets noticed and what happens next isn't something he could've predicted.
Which is assuming he could've predicted any of this, though Sunday's nose crinkles right up until they push the table past the man and he's forced to stop chewing on it. ]
I cannot help but feel we have stumbled onto the movie set for a horror movie of some kind.
[ This is also ignoring the general horrors aren't specific to diffusion zones even if this one is having a particularly good showing. As another man rolls towards them Sunday's quick to push the table at a slight angle to avoid leaving any planes of it available to be bitten this time around. Success, it seems, as he glances up to the buffet tables only a few steps away now. ]
I half expect someone to have been waiting for us all along once we make it out of here.
[ Except that as they make it back to the tables away from the main fight (and what'd slightly followed them on their way out) - nothing happens. The reception area remains as it was all along with the sort of calmness which seemed so much like it fit for Aglaea's bathhouse, though now Sunday side eyes all of it before turning to Aglaea. ]
Perhaps it'd be best if... this was any inspiration instead of the rest.
[ She wonders what he could mean, expecting someone to be waiting for them at the end of this all – while to most other people it likely should paint a picture of a game show about pranks, Aglaea has no idea what something like that could mean. She imagines a fanfare of celebration for their grand victory, but somehow that seems not quite right to her, based on the small amusement Sunday seemed to offer.
Oh well, she doesn't think much on it more as they at last find their persons well away from the chaos of the venue. At least, their persons are. Unfortunately for Aglaea, her threads are still very much entangled in the events behind them, which can really only last so long. She presses her finger to her chin. ]
Regrettably, I still have interest in those silk plants which were left behind, [ she mutters with deep thought.
Her hand then turns over, an open palm, as if offering her thoughts out to him: ] I would imagine, once the guests have finished slaughtering each other to their demise, it will be easier to retrieve those things? The carnage certainly can't go on forever.
[ The plants - he remembers those too late as he looks up with a bit of remorse to it since they could've used the table to get to where they were. Probably. Maybe Sunday's slightly too confident in how well that plan worked out to get them out of there that, now that they're kind of, sort of out of imminent danger it seems like a longer loop around would've been possible.
He's halfway about to suggest that they simply take the table along again to do just that since the plants could provide some additional shielding on their return though he pauses at Aglaea's suggestion. Or question, then the pause continues for a couple more seconds while he thinks that over. ]
I'd say that anyone would be well out of our way at that point.
[ A little dry when it comes to any humor in there even if it is slightly there, but: she has a point. It would be a shame to come out here and end up not scavenging anything. Right? ]
There are no guarantees we'll run into another diffusion zone on the way back or that it'll have anything like it. [ Said in the way which someone does when they're thinking over something aloud, but - ] Though the same can be said for not knowing when the... carnage will end.
[ Carnage is a good word for it as Sunday looks back at the tables again. Or more specifically, the tablecloths on them spotless from no food being served as it continues to wait in the dishes for guests who seemingly will never arrive or will extend the murders if they do. The fabric looks expensive, however. ]
I wonder if perhaps they could be inspiration if, [ with a gesture to the tables, ] it would not be too much work to make them. A possible bonus advertising for your tailoring, if you wanted it to be.
Like asking a surgeon if he can apply a simple bandage, my skills are better suited for grander tasks. Aside from that, I am not eager for frivolous advertising about my garments. [ Although she understands why Sunday might suggest something like that, there is a hint of annoyance on her voice. It's not at him, but the situation they find themselves. And, well, she will always be a bit sad about not opening her tailor shop in her beautiful Okhema, but she would rather have scruples than a shred of a dream.
She thinks a moment longer, letting the awful scene play out for a moment longer. It would be difficult to simply wait, given how the scene continues to play out. Obtaining such fine cloths and the silk plants would be near impossible in the city, just the dame. ]
It would take some time, but I may be able to bind them with the threads. It would be a matter of laying a web thick enough before committing to the task. After that, I think if we move quickly, we can gather at least a portion of the decor available. [ She turns her body toward Sunday. ] And, we may even be able to obtain a larger portion of that excellent smelling meal.
That is, if you don't mind attempting a small time trial, Sunday. It would require us both to be quite quick. My threads cannot hold forever.
[ She smiles small, perhaps hopeful, that he is up for a challenge! ]
[ That comparison makes complete sense and so Sunday nods. It would be a waste of what he's seen of her skills so far when there's truly no comparison to be made. All the more reason to take no offense to the annoyance when he'll just assume that he earned it for that as he files that knowledge away for later.
Whatever musing he was about to slip into is halted at Aglaea's mention of her threads and how she might be able to affect the scene before them as it continues to unfold raucously despite the benefit of distance they now have. That suggestion is a solid one, and it causes the thought of another possibility along those lines to spark in his mind. ]
If you would have no objection, there is a chance I may be able to boost whatever web you weave. Not to the point of it being indestructible but in a way which may give us some additional time should Xipe agree.
[ He sees no reason for that to not be the case now like any of the blessings he's called forth before countless times since surely the Harmony will not object to this. A different kind of providing strength, to be sure, but as a test Sunday closes his eyes and summons the prayer.
And sure enough, there are the chords of the Harmony which call in return with the start to what will follow as he reopens his eyes with a faint smile. ]
[ She inquires, although it does not speak the entirety of her question. The Aeons are still quite unfamiliar to her, although she has been made aware of a small number of them from her time knowing the Trailblazers. If only her station hadn't kept her attention so fixed on her task with the Flame-Chase Journey, she may have had time to exercise a bit more curiosity. Oh well. ]
Interesting that your, [ she hesitates, trying to recall the foreign word, ] Aeon reaches you, even here. Mnestia's coreflame resides within my bosom, and so naturally Their divine authority should go wherever I am. Although... it does beg the question, how Amphoreus now fares without the Chrysalis of Gold at their disposal, as I have taken it with me here. [ A reminder of home and the dire state she left it in. For a moment, Aglaea forgets herself, Sunday, and the wedding Gladiators in the adjacent room as her head tilts, heavy with thought—
And then lifts, returned to the world of the Diadem. ] Forgive me. Please, show me the power which your Xipe bestows upon you, Sunday.
[ His Aeon - a simple association and one way to put it, and yet a way of putting it which might've once made him grimace. There never was any parting from Xipe in the end despite what he'd once believed.
More than that, it is interesting when it's something Sunday has wondered about ever since his arrival. That even though this is not the cosmos he knows or rather they know, somehow these powers granted have not wavered. His tuning remains as easy to reach for after those initial problems he attributed to a cosmic storm.
A worry he's discarded, and one which does not compare to what Aglaea mentions about Amphoreus being without her and the divine authority she carries. Something he cannot help her solve though he feels the weight of it and so he shakes his head as she mentions forgiving her. ]
You do not need any forgiveness for worrying about your home. That is something I understand, to say the least.
[ An understatement, but he will not dwell on it for either of them now. Instead, time to be her BiS partner 🥹
And (hopefully) show that potential as he shuts his eyes again, this time to bring forth those chords to wind them into light which settles over and around Aglaea. A burst of energy, some added speed - whatever she might need to make it safely in and out of the fray. ]
[ "Doubt" isn't quite the feeling Aglaea could have described having in the moments before the Harmony touches her – perhaps some small skepticism, too certain of the abilities Mnestia's coreflame grants her. Yet, in the moment which follows, she finds herself remarkably surprised. The world around her had always been sharp, yet the high pass given to her vision exceeds expectations. ]
...How remarkable... [ she wonders, turning her hands over as though she were feeling Mnestia's threads at her fingertips for the first time once more. At last, her hand coils and snaps into a delicate fist. Sunday may even notice a flash of light run from her hand back out to the banquet of battle, a series of gasps and cries as all at once, the specters which plagued them moments ago are bound. More than that, she feels as though her Garmentmaker is with her once more—as if she could move twice in a single turn...!
Softly, she smiles. ] Let us be quick. [ It's a rare show of determination, surprisingly inspired by Sunday's blessing. When they dodge back into the fray, it is as anticipated - every pugilist now bound by golden threads, writing but unable to act.
With that newfound speed and remarkable foresight, Aglaea's main focus is on the silkplants that intrigued her from the start, however the various valances and table cloths will not escape this weavers eager fingers. Cipher would be proud, somehow, she thinks as she prepares her bundle of questionably-gotten goods. ]
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She hums in answer as she waits for her threads to fill the lobby and paints the picture of the room they had entered. ]
Perhaps it is a wedding in setting alone? I can't say I mind the quiet. The purposes of these Fringe adventures are to gather supplies, no? [ Her head turns toward him for a moment. ] I think I would feel somewhat ill-at-ease were I feel as though I were taking from a true celebration.
[ Cold, but not wholly heartless. Her shoes, equally smart, click against the floor as she moves a little further in. She breathes in what her threads cannot sense for her. ]
It smells wonderful. I believe this is what they call Greek cuisine; nearly the same as what I grew up with in Amphoreus. Perhaps they'll have a desert I've been missing since then?
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Examination of the plants can wait as he looks up from the arrangements - ones also tastefully done that speak to someone's elaborate planning, and at that Sunday chuckles slightly. ]
You're quite right. It hardly takes much to imagine those not familiar with the Fringes frowning upon this in more ways than one. If this is some sort of set, that's rather fortuitous.
[ One more glance into what looks like the main room shows it's empty, no sign of any of the wedding party or even any guests which further adds to the effect of being here by themselves. Something Sunday's starting to believe as Aglaea mentions the food he'd temporarily passed over, though he looks back to the tables with more interest at the mention of Amphoreus. ]
We should look for it since it seems the catering is quite elaborate. [ If the number of dishes waiting to be served is anything to go by, this is quite the celebration. There's a few tables full of them, and Sunday moves to lift the lid of one serving dish only to wave the steam away. ] There may be a table with desserts though this one appears to be entrees. Perhaps closer to the cake in the corner?
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Although Aglaea hums to signify an approval, her hum is interrupted by an audible question-mark. Her head tilts. ]
Something has tugged on the threads. Although... it's not whole at the moment.
[ She declares with a certain worry, because it's rare that her threads cannot clearly paint a picture of the world around her. A ghost, perhaps? Even spirits cannot escape the threads, but for the moment the naked eye would see them as alone. ]
You may have to apprise me of what visions meet your eyes, Sunday.
[ From her experiences with Ardbert, she has some inkling that what she sees on the threads are not always consistent with the world around them. ]
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I cannot sense anything here either beyond the two of us. [ Now that does unsettle him a little more where it hadn't before as he frowns and takes a step forward towards the open room just beyond this one. ] I would've thought that—
[ But there it seems that several people abruptly come into focus as if waiting for anyone else; he pauses in the doorway but none of them turn to look his way as they're apparently engrossed at the altar. ]
It seems there... is a wedding after all. [ Said with no small amount of puzzlement in his voice as he glances back over his shoulder to Aglaea before looking forward again. ] There is a party here now gathered like they're either waiting for the ceremony to begin or that it's already began before they faded into view.
[ Or something else is happening since rather than standing there with the serene smiles he might've expected, one bridesmaid's face contorts in anger and he adds, ] They seem upset about something though I cannot quite hear why.
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Given their unspirited states, whether they're upset means little. [ Their feelings bear no threat along the threads, and though one of them may make a face, there's no heat there – at least as far as she can tell. They're not actually people, one shoudl reason! So why should she worry overmuch! (She will.)
Aglaea moves into the room before him. Her fingers brush over the ivy which climbs a barrier. Faux, certainly, as her fingers brush the texture to be certain. She continues her thought: ]
And, it seems they do not mind our presence. I'm sure we would be fine to go about our business, Sunday. What do you think about these as an accent wall in the lobby area? They already seem quite handsome in this space.
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For all he's considered the diffusion zones being so close to the Dreamscape and memoria itself, maybe this is truly the time he's walked into a memory bubble where what in it was something in the past and immutable.
It's with that in mind he turns away with his attention going back to the room itself when there's nothing they can do about what seems to be escalating if that is the case. That much Sunday's familiar with as he turns to face Aglaea and to appraise the walls in question. ]
The greenery here is rather nice. It seems like it would add to the interior with something easy to maintain... or as a backdrop to add in a few other plants for the simplicity of not having to care for quite so many as would be needed for an entire wall.
[ Or so he thinks, anyway; he can't say that he really did any maintenance on his office or his own living quarters beyond straightening them now and then or enjoying the occasional floral arrangement. The latter is what he's thinking of as he takes a half step back to consider the wall again, head tilted slightly to one side. ]
Perhaps this would also be ideal for a seating area if a place might be needed for guests to sit or gather with a bit of privacy compared to an open room.
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A seating area... That may be nice. Yes, I think that is an excellent proposal. I'll need to consider suitable chairs as well. [ An unrelated thought strikes her, and she decides to share: ] I have occasionally wished the tubs were larger at the venue. Okhema had such wonderful settings laid out for enjoying jam and cheeses while soaking ones feet in the warm water. Although, crumbs were often an issue.
[ She tugs a bit at the silk vines, frowning now. ] They seem unfortunately difficult to move. Sunday, would you mind—
[ While she starts to turn, her faint expression changes slightly. Surprise? It's not too often Aglaea has a genuine emote. With SPD unmatched, her hand shoots out to grab Sunday's shirt and yoinks his ass down to the ground. A chair summarily flies over their head and crashes into the ivy partition, making it ache backwards and smashes the structure as it strikes the ground.
She glances up, surprisingly dignified. She brushes his clothing where she grabbed on, feeling a bit bad for ruffling his nice attire. ] Are you alright?
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The very topic he was about to ask about, curious as he is to know more beyond what plans she's already shared when it comes to creating a space much like them in Panorama. A sight he might've been able to see under different circumstances, though a short laugh leaves him at the mention of crumbs being a problem, what with that being easy to picture - and something he would've found an issue.
He's about to say as much though Aglaea moves abruptly and Sunday finds himself pulled out of the way with a small noise of surprise. The 'why' quickly becomes clear when he startles at the crash not a second later complete with the feathers on his wings standing out in another indicator of that alarm which takes him a moment to smooth away. ]
I— I'm fine. Are you? [ Asked with genuine worry though she seems to be even as he turns to her once he's recovered, and then looks to the wedding party. ] It seems things have escalated considerably.
[ He's got more to add to that than confirming the obvious based on what just happened, since now Sunday can't help a sharp inhale as the maid of honor draws her arm back and punches the bridesmaid who'd been angry seconds ago. ]
I believe that chair was meant for someone else since the wedding has... not continued.
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She nods, rather confidently, about her status. The most fine, knowing that Sunday is also alright! And another, somewhat more defined nod as he observes the suddenly very aggressive nature of the party they're now mixed into. ]
I'm unsure what any of this is "meant" for, to be frank. [ Considering none of it has a single emotion to the threads. It's actually a bit frustrating, considering they are now in apparent danger of the guests at the party. ]
Sunday, I must ask: is this what I should be expecting of these diffusion zones? Or would you wager this is somewhat out of the ordinary? A wedding turned gladiatorial prowess is a bit more than I was anticipating compared to the two other, short excursions I have had, which I understand is a fairly poor pattern to build on.
[ She draws her head back slightly as a fork flings past. There's a gargling sound somewhere else. Probably better not to look too hard in that direction. ] And, perhaps, another question: whether it is better to resolve these things or let them play out.
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For one, if anyone was getting attacked by something it tended to be him with only one opponent and not an entire group - aside from the run in with the gnomes he's now recalling also happened. A complete wedding party is a new one, however, so Sunday offers something that's half laugh, half anxious exhale into a sound which isn't fully either.
Which explains nothing, and so - ]
I... have not run into this sort of situation so far, though there have been some dangers. [ A good start to admissions, but not enough of an explanation either. ] Nothing unmanageable and more often than not, the places I've walked into seem to be deserted. Almost as if those who were there either left it suddenly or left it some ages ago depending on the state of what objects or scenery were left behind, but.
[ One pause for him to grimace and then he continues. This time with an apologetic tone which should've been there from the start, most likely. ]
This is quite out of the ordinary for me, too, Miss Aglaea. I was hoping this would be a case of one of those abandoned sites, and not - [ as another distinct noise suggesting what's happening interrupts while Sunday decidedly doesn't look that way - ] what's happening here. It might be best if we retreated back to somewhere else.
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It's difficult, though. A voice screams show me the beauty of battle!, another that says let me see those beautiful muscles! with glee, and a woman who yells I am a golden god! It's a mixture of rage and glee that spurs these wedding pugilists on. You know, this turning into a JoJo reference. Anyway...
Aglaea is ignoring that, because she doesn't get the reference. She even draws a hand over her ear because it's really quite noisy, and it disturbs her delicate eardrums. She nods at last. ] I think that would be the most advisable course of action.
Here, [ her hand reaches out and a glimmer of her threads manifest, coiling around the leg of a table. She quickly draws it toward them – it's a modest size. ] Please take this to protect your core and head as we exit. I should be able to anticipate any oncoming threats with my Golden Threads for myself, but I fear I am unable to split my focus for you, Sunday.
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And Aglaea has certainly thought of something he hadn't, possibly betraying his continued lack of combat experience even with what he's mentioned uncovering in the diffusion zones. The table proves to be an adequate shield when it's next a rather pointed high heel which comes flying their way. Dangerous, but still not something he'd like to be hit with when his own SPD proves to be slightly faster.
It hits the table instead as he tilts it to deflect it, and then holds it up with a nod to Aglaea. ]
Thank you. That was quick thinking on your part and I'll do my best to make good use of it.
[ The absolute least he can do is cover them so that Aglaea doesn't have to handle it entirely or split her focus at all... assuming he can uphold this promise.
The first test comes when a scream precedes some crashing coming from the front. Something else sails by them with the aim thankfully too wide as he doesn't catch what it is, but it'll make getting back to the banquet area more interesting even if it's not far. ]
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[ She mutters under her breath as she reaches out to pull the high heel out of the table. ] I would need to be in quite the foul mood to ever conceive of heels this perilous. [ The shoe is tossed aside without dignity. She urges Sunday upright and onward. ]
I ask myself if perhaps weddings in other worlds could normally be this rambunctious, [ she comments with some irritation as she follows gently after Sunday, ] or if this is merely a twisted delusion crafted by whatever forces bind us to this world. It certainly paints a vision of "Romance" I would apply to none.
Forgive me— [ she snags the table Sunday uses as a shield to stop him in his tracks. Two of the grooms fall before them, wrestling. It's really an awful sort of wrestling. She peeks around the shield, not to see better, but merely to be heard better. ]
An inadvisable course, yet perhaps the only one we are deigned: to tread over these two pugilists toward our escape.
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I am also quite certain this would not apply to the definition of romantic many would attribute to such occasions in their own world. I'm sure that—
[ Whatever Sunday was going to go on about will be a mystery (probably for the best) since as Aglaea pulls on the table he stops immediately to glance over at her as if the commotion before them is of no concern. It's absolutely a concern, and yet at the same time being around more than a little chaos for years has made his scale for evaluating it slightly untrustworthy.
Back to the men before them it is, then, as he considers their options. Of which there aren't many when this is absolutely the path they need to take out of here, and then he hums. ]
If this is an effect of the diffusion zone, the objects here seem to be quite real given this was already here. But the wedding party was not until we drew closer, almost as if what's playing out was waiting for us all along. [ There's a point in there somewhere that he's getting to, which is - ] If we make it back to where we started, then this may just end.
[ Or so he's going to hope while taking a step over, around, or whatever will get him past the men wrestling each other. ]
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She hums, a small, unhappy tune on her breath as she concurs. ] It does seem like a fair assessment. Please do be careful as you tread.
[ While Sunday is quite brave in stepping over the wrestling men, Aglaea seems significantly more trepidations as she stands on the opposite side of what feels like a Grand Canyon to her. She's staring straight head, but her "eyes" are more fixed on the two groomsmen before her as she frowns. She looks... uncomfortable, although the feeling doesn't paint itself well on her expression. ] Forgive me, I'm concerned about becoming wrapped up in their entanglement.
They're.... rather unpredictable. [ Which she continues to feel very uncertain about unpredictability.
With Sunday already bearing a table to ensure his safety, she can't exactly turn to him for help. Instead, she stands there, trying to gauge the best opening for herself, overthinking the situation before her somewhat. Unfortunately, if Sunday does look back at her, he will get a reasonable view of what can only be described as absolute carnage. Witness murder y/n? If yes, Aglaea continues to stand there. If no, Aglaea will trip trying to get over the combatants at just the right moment. ]
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[ In any situation, really, since he'll be honest with himself about that. The dislike of not knowing what to do here is exponentially increased; hard for it to not be (by his own logic) when it was his idea to visit here and now they have ended up in Whatever This Is.
With the table held up around him still there's really nothing to do but figure out what to do beyond standing there, though right as Sunday takes a step the men wrestling on the floor come his direction. An action he only barely manages to dodge though by doing so... he essentially ends up not all that far from where he'd started. Time to frown.
Actually, time to look at Aglaea to see how she's faring when her own path might be better so he turns. Right in time for a knife to be produced at the alter and even Sunday with his unbreakable composure can't help a gasp. ]
Miss Aglaea, I— don't turn around, if you can avoid it.
[ A suggestion which means most will turn, though now he's coming back with the table. There must be a way to share it as he looks at the ground again. Then - wait a minute. ]
I'll take the risk of items being thrown, but we should be able to use the table to keep anyone from coming near us.
[ Said as he sets it down on the ground, intending to move it along as they walk. It's not the strongest way to block the men. At least they can run into it instead of into them, with any luck. ]
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Sunday, my threads do not permit me so easily not to "see" that which is around me...
[ Which is to say, sadly, she may as well have turned around. Aglaea's composure is extremely unshaken by the murder that takes place behind her. Her expression is sadly, very flat, perhaps looking every so slightly tilted toward annoyance than actual mortification. She's just grateful that whatever splash damage is taking place behind her is far enough away that her clothing will not be ruined.
Aglaea maintains her focus on Sunday regardless, unmoved, as he puzzles through the situation they find themselves in. Teh table meets the floor once more, and her brows lift as he proposes his idea:]
Oh! How clever, [ She smiles slightly. ] Let me help you push.
[ There's no reason for a table this size to need two people pushing it, but considering it is now the barrier at their front, it seems fair to have them both working together.
And honestly, it's an incredible even on execution idea, because when the table meets the side of one of the men, his head turns fiercely to start gnawing on it with a vengeance. Oh god. ]
How disturbing... [ But, it works like a charm to push them out of the way. It's the homestretch Sunday!! ]
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Still: teamwork! The table does seem to help and Sunday would be lying - to himself, at any rate - if he wasn't pleased by that. Certainly something else to focus on, right up until the table gets noticed and what happens next isn't something he could've predicted.
Which is assuming he could've predicted any of this, though Sunday's nose crinkles right up until they push the table past the man and he's forced to stop chewing on it. ]
I cannot help but feel we have stumbled onto the movie set for a horror movie of some kind.
[ This is also ignoring the general horrors aren't specific to diffusion zones even if this one is having a particularly good showing. As another man rolls towards them Sunday's quick to push the table at a slight angle to avoid leaving any planes of it available to be bitten this time around. Success, it seems, as he glances up to the buffet tables only a few steps away now. ]
I half expect someone to have been waiting for us all along once we make it out of here.
[ Except that as they make it back to the tables away from the main fight (and what'd slightly followed them on their way out) - nothing happens. The reception area remains as it was all along with the sort of calmness which seemed so much like it fit for Aglaea's bathhouse, though now Sunday side eyes all of it before turning to Aglaea. ]
Perhaps it'd be best if... this was any inspiration instead of the rest.
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Oh well, she doesn't think much on it more as they at last find their persons well away from the chaos of the venue. At least, their persons are. Unfortunately for Aglaea, her threads are still very much entangled in the events behind them, which can really only last so long. She presses her finger to her chin. ]
Regrettably, I still have interest in those silk plants which were left behind, [ she mutters with deep thought.
Her hand then turns over, an open palm, as if offering her thoughts out to him: ] I would imagine, once the guests have finished slaughtering each other to their demise, it will be easier to retrieve those things? The carnage certainly can't go on forever.
[ Girl, you crazy. ]
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He's halfway about to suggest that they simply take the table along again to do just that since the plants could provide some additional shielding on their return though he pauses at Aglaea's suggestion. Or question, then the pause continues for a couple more seconds while he thinks that over. ]
I'd say that anyone would be well out of our way at that point.
[ A little dry when it comes to any humor in there even if it is slightly there, but: she has a point. It would be a shame to come out here and end up not scavenging anything. Right? ]
There are no guarantees we'll run into another diffusion zone on the way back or that it'll have anything like it. [ Said in the way which someone does when they're thinking over something aloud, but - ] Though the same can be said for not knowing when the... carnage will end.
[ Carnage is a good word for it as Sunday looks back at the tables again. Or more specifically, the tablecloths on them spotless from no food being served as it continues to wait in the dishes for guests who seemingly will never arrive or will extend the murders if they do. The fabric looks expensive, however. ]
I wonder if perhaps they could be inspiration if, [ with a gesture to the tables, ] it would not be too much work to make them. A possible bonus advertising for your tailoring, if you wanted it to be.
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Like asking a surgeon if he can apply a simple bandage, my skills are better suited for grander tasks. Aside from that, I am not eager for frivolous advertising about my garments. [ Although she understands why Sunday might suggest something like that, there is a hint of annoyance on her voice. It's not at him, but the situation they find themselves. And, well, she will always be a bit sad about not opening her tailor shop in her beautiful Okhema, but she would rather have scruples than a shred of a dream.
She thinks a moment longer, letting the awful scene play out for a moment longer. It would be difficult to simply wait, given how the scene continues to play out. Obtaining such fine cloths and the silk plants would be near impossible in the city, just the dame. ]
It would take some time, but I may be able to bind them with the threads. It would be a matter of laying a web thick enough before committing to the task. After that, I think if we move quickly, we can gather at least a portion of the decor available. [ She turns her body toward Sunday. ] And, we may even be able to obtain a larger portion of that excellent smelling meal.
That is, if you don't mind attempting a small time trial, Sunday. It would require us both to be quite quick. My threads cannot hold forever.
[ She smiles small, perhaps hopeful, that he is up for a challenge! ]
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Whatever musing he was about to slip into is halted at Aglaea's mention of her threads and how she might be able to affect the scene before them as it continues to unfold raucously despite the benefit of distance they now have. That suggestion is a solid one, and it causes the thought of another possibility along those lines to spark in his mind. ]
If you would have no objection, there is a chance I may be able to boost whatever web you weave. Not to the point of it being indestructible but in a way which may give us some additional time should Xipe agree.
[ He sees no reason for that to not be the case now like any of the blessings he's called forth before countless times since surely the Harmony will not object to this. A different kind of providing strength, to be sure, but as a test Sunday closes his eyes and summons the prayer.
And sure enough, there are the chords of the Harmony which call in return with the start to what will follow as he reopens his eyes with a faint smile. ]
When you are ready, then, Miss Aglaea.
[ Time trial it is!! ]
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[ She inquires, although it does not speak the entirety of her question. The Aeons are still quite unfamiliar to her, although she has been made aware of a small number of them from her time knowing the Trailblazers. If only her station hadn't kept her attention so fixed on her task with the Flame-Chase Journey, she may have had time to exercise a bit more curiosity. Oh well. ]
Interesting that your, [ she hesitates, trying to recall the foreign word, ] Aeon reaches you, even here. Mnestia's coreflame resides within my bosom, and so naturally Their divine authority should go wherever I am. Although... it does beg the question, how Amphoreus now fares without the Chrysalis of Gold at their disposal, as I have taken it with me here. [ A reminder of home and the dire state she left it in. For a moment, Aglaea forgets herself, Sunday, and the wedding Gladiators in the adjacent room as her head tilts, heavy with thought—
And then lifts, returned to the world of the Diadem. ] Forgive me. Please, show me the power which your Xipe bestows upon you, Sunday.
[ Her BiS partner, 😭 ]
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More than that, it is interesting when it's something Sunday has wondered about ever since his arrival. That even though this is not the cosmos he knows or rather they know, somehow these powers granted have not wavered. His tuning remains as easy to reach for after those initial problems he attributed to a cosmic storm.
A worry he's discarded, and one which does not compare to what Aglaea mentions about Amphoreus being without her and the divine authority she carries. Something he cannot help her solve though he feels the weight of it and so he shakes his head as she mentions forgiving her. ]
You do not need any forgiveness for worrying about your home. That is something I understand, to say the least.
[ An understatement, but he will not dwell on it for either of them now. Instead, time to be her BiS partner 🥹
And (hopefully) show that potential as he shuts his eyes again, this time to bring forth those chords to wind them into light which settles over and around Aglaea. A burst of energy, some added speed - whatever she might need to make it safely in and out of the fray. ]
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...How remarkable... [ she wonders, turning her hands over as though she were feeling Mnestia's threads at her fingertips for the first time once more. At last, her hand coils and snaps into a delicate fist. Sunday may even notice a flash of light run from her hand back out to the banquet of battle, a series of gasps and cries as all at once, the specters which plagued them moments ago are bound. More than that, she feels as though her Garmentmaker is with her once more—as if she could move twice in a single turn...!
Softly, she smiles. ] Let us be quick. [ It's a rare show of determination, surprisingly inspired by Sunday's blessing. When they dodge back into the fray, it is as anticipated - every pugilist now bound by golden threads, writing but unable to act.
With that newfound speed and remarkable foresight, Aglaea's main focus is on the silkplants that intrigued her from the start, however the various valances and table cloths will not escape this weavers eager fingers. Cipher would be proud, somehow, she thinks as she prepares her bundle of questionably-gotten goods. ]
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