[ToZ] Record Keeping
Feb. 14th, 2016 04:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seleniasTitle: Record Keeping
Author:lavendre
Fandom: Tales of Zestiria
Characters/pairing: Sorey, Mikleo
Rating: all audiences
Word Count: 752
Notes: Bickering over books while Alisha snoozes in the background.
Sorey was deep in the throes of sleep when Mikleo let himself in. He’d let the human girl have his bed, and was curled up by the fire. He’d rolled around in his sleep, as indicated by a knocked over stack of books. Mikleo took in the scene with some amusement. He didn’t doubt that Sorey was used to floors, soft grounds, the hard stone of ruins. Or, his face quite classically smashed in a book.
Mikleo busied himself with organizing and cleaning. He’d had it in mind to leave Sorey to his own affairs, but it wasn’t like they kept anything from each other anyway. He pulled a blanket from the spare cupboards in the bedroom, careful to be silent. The hinges were so well used they didn’t make any sound at all.
The human girl would go in the morning and they’d resume their routine. Well, no they wouldn’t. Sorey would leave, as Gramps predicted, and Mikleo would leave as well. She was their first indication of a world below the mountain. Of the forest and the life that sometimes crossed into their domain. There would no be ignoring an adventure in waiting.
Mikleo had half a mind to investigate, to make sure they were prepared, but that would be unfair to Sorey, he mused. Human life spans were too short for him to ever think that about anything else other than the aspect of time, and moderation.
“Mikleo?”
“Hm?” He unfolded the blanket and shook it gently, the breeze making Sorey’s hair brush across his face. It was flat on one side, smashed from his arms and the floor. “Don’t talk too much louder, or you might wake her.”
Sorey nodded and pulled the blanket up to his chin, reaching for a pillow behind him, the ones scattered about for laying on and reading. Wherever the books were, the surrounding area was guaranteed to be a wreck. Mikleo stepped over Sorey’s legs and shoved several more logs on the warm bed of coals. Fire wouldn’t dare burn a water seraph.
“Thanks,” Sorey whispered. He tugged on Mikleo’s pants until he got the hint and gingerly dropped down beside him. “She’s really out, I think.”
“Yeah. Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t. I was wondering if you’d come by.”
Mikleo smirked. “Did you see her edition of the Celestial Record? It has a plated cover. Her edition must be newer than ours.”
“Yes!” Sorey clapped his hands over his mouth sheepishly. “I mean, yes, I did! She let me look through it.”
“And?”
“It’s the same, mostly. Hers has an introduction by someone I’ve never heard of. It was pointless commentary, though. A critique of the legend. Which doesn’t make sense, considering it’s true.”
Mikleo carefully dropped down to the floor and leaned forward on his arms. Sorey gathered part of the blanket and tossed it over his legs, not that it did much for him, ever, but he didn’t expect Sorey to think these things through. Especially the things he didn’t think to share.
“Well, that makes some sense. Of course human values will influence how they perceive the world. And I suppose that history would be changed as well to accompany these beliefs. If the humans can’t see us, why would they believe in us?”
Sorey scowled in his direction, as Mikleo could tell with the breath on his ear. “That’s a fair ruling, I guess. But still...”
“...You were hoping that it would be consistent.”
“Yeah. At least, that there wouldn’t be any tricks to it!”
Mikleo craned his head back, hair falling from his forehead. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, “they say seraphim are easily mistake for poltergists. I think humans are afraid. Maybe you're the one that's confused.”
“Shut up. I am not.”
“That’s because you’re a rarity, you weirdo,” Mikleo ground out slowly. Sorey pinched him cheefully in the side. Mikleo retaliated, grinning without reserve. At the sound of a creak coming from the other room, Sorey retreated. He rolled over so his back was to the hearth, and Mikleo peered over the top of his mop of brown hair, watching the girl peer anxiously into the room.
Her stare went right through him. He traced the shell of Sorey’s ear. Sorey gave him a dirty look that clearly read, don’t.
If anyone was to blame for seraphs becoming associated with phenomena, it was Mikleo.
He spent that evening with his nose in a book, Sorey’s guileless face used as a prop.
Author:
lavendreFandom: Tales of Zestiria
Characters/pairing: Sorey, Mikleo
Rating: all audiences
Word Count: 752
Notes: Bickering over books while Alisha snoozes in the background.
Sorey was deep in the throes of sleep when Mikleo let himself in. He’d let the human girl have his bed, and was curled up by the fire. He’d rolled around in his sleep, as indicated by a knocked over stack of books. Mikleo took in the scene with some amusement. He didn’t doubt that Sorey was used to floors, soft grounds, the hard stone of ruins. Or, his face quite classically smashed in a book.
Mikleo busied himself with organizing and cleaning. He’d had it in mind to leave Sorey to his own affairs, but it wasn’t like they kept anything from each other anyway. He pulled a blanket from the spare cupboards in the bedroom, careful to be silent. The hinges were so well used they didn’t make any sound at all.
The human girl would go in the morning and they’d resume their routine. Well, no they wouldn’t. Sorey would leave, as Gramps predicted, and Mikleo would leave as well. She was their first indication of a world below the mountain. Of the forest and the life that sometimes crossed into their domain. There would no be ignoring an adventure in waiting.
Mikleo had half a mind to investigate, to make sure they were prepared, but that would be unfair to Sorey, he mused. Human life spans were too short for him to ever think that about anything else other than the aspect of time, and moderation.
“Mikleo?”
“Hm?” He unfolded the blanket and shook it gently, the breeze making Sorey’s hair brush across his face. It was flat on one side, smashed from his arms and the floor. “Don’t talk too much louder, or you might wake her.”
Sorey nodded and pulled the blanket up to his chin, reaching for a pillow behind him, the ones scattered about for laying on and reading. Wherever the books were, the surrounding area was guaranteed to be a wreck. Mikleo stepped over Sorey’s legs and shoved several more logs on the warm bed of coals. Fire wouldn’t dare burn a water seraph.
“Thanks,” Sorey whispered. He tugged on Mikleo’s pants until he got the hint and gingerly dropped down beside him. “She’s really out, I think.”
“Yeah. Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t. I was wondering if you’d come by.”
Mikleo smirked. “Did you see her edition of the Celestial Record? It has a plated cover. Her edition must be newer than ours.”
“Yes!” Sorey clapped his hands over his mouth sheepishly. “I mean, yes, I did! She let me look through it.”
“And?”
“It’s the same, mostly. Hers has an introduction by someone I’ve never heard of. It was pointless commentary, though. A critique of the legend. Which doesn’t make sense, considering it’s true.”
Mikleo carefully dropped down to the floor and leaned forward on his arms. Sorey gathered part of the blanket and tossed it over his legs, not that it did much for him, ever, but he didn’t expect Sorey to think these things through. Especially the things he didn’t think to share.
“Well, that makes some sense. Of course human values will influence how they perceive the world. And I suppose that history would be changed as well to accompany these beliefs. If the humans can’t see us, why would they believe in us?”
Sorey scowled in his direction, as Mikleo could tell with the breath on his ear. “That’s a fair ruling, I guess. But still...”
“...You were hoping that it would be consistent.”
“Yeah. At least, that there wouldn’t be any tricks to it!”
Mikleo craned his head back, hair falling from his forehead. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, “they say seraphim are easily mistake for poltergists. I think humans are afraid. Maybe you're the one that's confused.”
“Shut up. I am not.”
“That’s because you’re a rarity, you weirdo,” Mikleo ground out slowly. Sorey pinched him cheefully in the side. Mikleo retaliated, grinning without reserve. At the sound of a creak coming from the other room, Sorey retreated. He rolled over so his back was to the hearth, and Mikleo peered over the top of his mop of brown hair, watching the girl peer anxiously into the room.
Her stare went right through him. He traced the shell of Sorey’s ear. Sorey gave him a dirty look that clearly read, don’t.
If anyone was to blame for seraphs becoming associated with phenomena, it was Mikleo.
He spent that evening with his nose in a book, Sorey’s guileless face used as a prop.
