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[color=cecece][sub][b][Location][/b] Landow, Estren (Downtown to Food Stands)
[b][Time][/b] Sunday, 07:30 AM
[b][Interactions][/b] [@Silly][@vietmyke][@Mirandae][/sub][/color]
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The hotel room seemed to tighten around Cécile, as if the walls themselves were drawing closer, suffocating him with their stillness. Outside, the sky had deepened into a shade of violet twilight, and through the window, the brightest slivers of the meteor shower could still be seen streaking across the heavens, as if the stars were coming undone, falling to their small pocket of the universe in some cosmic unraveling. His butterflies fluttered around him in soft, luminous whispers, and though his body remained anchored in the room, his mind soared through their delicate wings, tethered to Nia. The azure shimmer of their wings kept vigil, a silent constellation of his presence amidst the rising tension in the city below. She was still near the harbor, surrounded by the others—Regalia gathered beneath the flickering, falling sky—but her response had been troubling. She wanted him to come to her.

[color=4F5678][b]“Why does she not understand?”[/b][/color] Cécile murmured to himself, pacing the length of the room. 

Every step felt heavier. Something was wrong, something more than the meteors themselves. He could feel it—an unease that curled in his chest, like the first breath before a scream. Cécile’s hands twitched restlessly at his sides, pulling at the fabric of his slip, the weight of inaction unbearable.

[b][color=4F5678]“I'm going,”[/color][/b] he whispered, more to himself than to Bastion, but his words seemed to pierce the silence of the room. [color=4F5678][b]"I need to join my cousin."[/b][/color]

But as he moved, his Guardian's shadow moved as well, stepping into his path before he could reach the door. Bastion's tall, broad frame stood like a wall between Cécile and the outside world. [color=f7976a]“No,”[/color] he said, his voice as firm as steel, [color=f7976a]"I am bound to protect you, Hopekeeper; you will stay here where it's safe."[/color]

Tension crackled between them, thick as volcanic smoke. Cécile’s heart raced, his pulse thundering in his ears. [color=4F5678][b]“Bastion, please,”[/b][/color] he pleaded, his voice soft but trembling with urgency, [color=4F5678][b]“Step aside. I have to go."[/b][/color] But Bastion’s face remained impassive, his eyes a cold, unyielding shield, his broad form blocking the doorway. [color=f7976a]"Dr. Featherswallow gave me strict orders to keep you safe. She'll have my head if I let you leave. My answer is no."[/color]

[color=4F5678][b]"Your answer?"[/b][/color]

Something inside Cécile shifted then, something sharp and absolute, a rare spark of defiance flaring to life. His gentle voice hardened, his normally soft demeanor replaced by something more dangerous as a tremor of pale, violet witchlight flickered in his brown eyes. [color=4F5678]“[b][i]Move, Bastion.[/i][/b] Don’t make me do this.”[/color] 

It was at that moment that Bastion's expression wavered, confusion flickering in his eyes as he noticed the sudden shift in Cécile’s demeanor. His gaze sharpened as the tension thickened between them. It all became too evident that he wasn't facing a delicate moonflower or a wistful Hopekeeper throwing some childish tantrum. Cécile was a Regalia, and his better judgment told him to be mindful of that fact, to tread Cécile's waters with more caution and grace. This was a side of himself that Cécile would never be able to show in public. 

Around him, the air began to shimmer with the sudden appearance of more astral butterflies, their flickering azure wings taking on a frantic rhythm as they spun in the air, reflecting Cécile’s agitation. Their iridescence lit the room with a soft, otherworldly glow. 

Somewhere, faintly, the hotel’s intercom clicked on, an attendant’s voice cool and detached, announcing the lockdown. [color=silver]"For your safety, the hotel will be going on full lockdown until the meteor shower passes. Thank you for your cooperation."[/color] But it was distant, background noise to the quiet war being waged between Cécile and Bastion’s locked gazes. Silence thickened around them, only the sound of the butterflies’ wings stirring the air.

After a long moment, Bastion’s voice softened, attempting to placate. [color=f7976a]“Even if I let you go,"[/color] he began slowly, his tone almost appeasing, [color=f7976a]“Isolde wouldn’t allow it.”[/color] His words were steady, but there was something softer in his gaze now, as though the tension between them had pulled one of many knots loose. Cécile hesitated, his temper cooling as he considered Bastion’s words. He broke their stare, looking away, suddenly contemplative, knowing the truth of it. He knew Bastion was right—Isolde would never permit him to leave, and he couldn’t fight her authority. He wouldn't dare. Yet, his mind's eye flickered to Nia, to the butterflies still watching over her, and he knew he couldn’t simply stand by.

Bastion watched him with an expression Cécile thought he had never seen before, a novel look that seemed to trigger the faintest of a memory. A rare, lavender rose pressed into his open palm. A chocolate strawberry pressed to his supple lips. The smell of an old, cherished book long forgotten to the annals of some mysterious world left by his bedside. Where was this memory from, Cécile thought, unable to trace the images that flickered in his mind. They went as quickly as they came.

The ephemeral daydream shattered with the intrusion of Bastion's surprising words, [color=f7976a]“I have an idea,”[/color] he finally said, his voice unusually genteel, his gaze elsewhere. Cécile blinked, surprise flickering across his features. His guard lowered ever so slightly. 

[color=4F5678][b]“You’ll help me?”[/b][/color] he asked, hope slipping into his voice. 

Bastion nodded, though his square jaw clenched with the weight of the consequences. [color=f7976a]“Dr. Featherswallow would have me dismissed if she knew, but...”[/color] His voice trailed off, and for the first time, there was something like affection in his eyes. [color=f7976a]“The window,”[/color] he said simply.

Cécile’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. [color=4F5678][b]“The window?”[/b][/color] He glanced over at the glass, dread pooling in his stomach. They were several stories up, the ground below far too distant for comfort. [color=4F5678][b]“We’re too high, I can’t—”[/b][/color]

[color=f7976a]“You’ve used your butterflies before,”[/color] Bastion interrupted, stepping toward the window, his tone matter-of-fact. [color=f7976a]“You’ve moved things with them. I’ve seen you do it. You can float us down.”[/color]

[color=4F5678][b]“How... how do you know I can do that?”[/b][/color] Cécile asked, suspicion creeping into his voice, but Bastion didn’t answer. He simply changed the subject, his gaze steady, [color=f7976a]“Can you do it or not?”[/color] he pressed.

[color=4F5678][b]“I’ve never—”[/b][/color] Cécile stammered, doubt clouding his thoughts. [color=4F5678][b]“I’ve never carried myself on my butterflies before. Let alone two people. And I can’t shift into my Dominant form easily…”[/b][/color] 

Bastion gave him a look, one warmer than Cécile had ever seen from him. It was an expression of quiet reassurance, a gesture so gentle that it eased some of Cécile’s doubt. [color=f7976a]"I think you can, Hopekeeper."[/color]

The trust in Bastion’s eyes was enough to make Cécile pause, his resolve slowly building. He took a deep breath, letting Bastion's words fill him with courage, even if only fleeting. He followed Bastion to the window, and together, they climbed onto the ledge, the morning air sticky and hot against Cécile’s skin. The ground below seemed impossibly far, a yawning abyss looking to swallow him whole in one final, magnificent ending. Cécile’s breath trembled, fear gnawing at him. Bastion, noticing the tremble in his form, wrapped an arm around Cécile’s waist and pulled him close, [color=f7976a]"Hold onto me."[/color] he said, voice low and steady, [color=f7976a]"I've got you."[/color] 

It was a marvel that Cécile didn't recoil from his touch in that moment. Cécile nodded, clutching tightly to Bastion as he looked down and then back to his Guardian.

They shared a look and then jumped!

A sudden rush of air greeted them, and the world seemed to slow as they fell. But before panic could take hold, Cécile’s butterflies surged around them, materializing in a swirling, breathtaking luminescent cloud of blue morphos. Their wings shimmered in the sun, catching the stellar, cosmic lights as the fairy-like projections enveloped the pair, slowing their descent. They floated down gently, as if held by a dream, the butterflies moving in perfect synchronicity with Cécile’s will. Cradled in a delicate, shimmering net of fluttering azure, their feet finally touched the ground softly, and Bastion glanced at him, impressed for once, his eyes alight with something akin to awe. 

[color=f7976a]"Impressive."[/color] he murmured. Around them, passersby had been watching the magnificent display of the Regalia of Anima. The mystical spectacle had drawn attention, and citizens stared at Cecile dumbstruck, almost bewitched. But he was too caught up in the moment to care. 

Cécile, breathless, blinked in amazement at what he had just done. He hadn’t known his butterflies could carry such weight, or that they would respond so instinctively to his need. [color=4F5678][b]“I... I didn’t know I could do that,”[/b][/color] he admitted softly.

[color=f7976a]“You did,”[/color] Bastion said, giving him a rare smile. [color=f7976a]“Are you alright?”[/color] 

[color=4F5678][b]“I am,”[/b][/color] Cécile breathed, sharing a fleeting, almost familial look with Bastion. There seemed to be a quiet understanding between them, but the moment passed quickly. Before he could say more, Bastion took his hand, urging him forward. [color=f7976a]“Come on. Let’s go before Dr. Featherswallow realizes we’re gone.”[/color]

They raced through the streets toward the harbor, Bastion hailing a taxi along the way and getting a free ride, thanks to Cécile's status as a Regalia. He was still keeping watch over Nia through the butterflies that fluttered around her. His mind stretched thin, his focus divided; it was a strain, he could feel, but he kept the tether active until they finally reached her. Cécile exited the vehicle, his heart racing from overexertion. Perhaps they hadn't noticed their interlocked hands the entire time. And when Bastion released Cécile’s hand so he could exit the taxi, he appeared almost reluctant to do so. Once he joined him, however, his expression hardened once more. 

Cécile took a moment to gather himself before stepping forward, his gaze flickering to the other Regalia—Laura and Akamu. His shy disposition returned, as if he didn't quite belong in their presence. He bowed deeply, his hands gracefully folded together against his middle. [color=4F5678][b]"It is an honor to meet you both, Earth Mother and Ground Shaker."[/b][/color] he said in a kind, delicate voice. Now that he was here, Cécile recalled his remaining butterflies back into his psyche; they seemed to vanish into wisps of azure stardust and then, nothing. 

He had seen countless pictures Akamu and Laura in the magazines brought to him by the Tenshi supplier. He'd spend hours before bed, reading through those magazines to keep up with current world affairs as his höpes chirped quietly, almost as if begging him to finally get some sleep. Those flat pictorials did them no justice. Even as a Regalia himself, he was quite enamored by their presence. He tried not to stare, it was unbecoming. 

[color=4F5678][b]"Pardon me for whispering,"[/b][/color] he said out of respect for the other Regalia present, shifting his focus back to Nia.

[color=4F5678][b]“Do you... do you sense it too? The danger... falling from the skies?”[/b][/color] He could barely maintain his composure, his fear too raw, too close to the surface. There was a tremor of fear beneath his words, his hands clutching delicately to his chest as if holding something fragile, something too afraid to bloom.

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Bastion
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