Augran

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

Pink long-sleeved polo shirt with the sleeves folded up. Grey slacks with black suspenders. Brown leather shoes, fingerless gloves with exposed backhands, and strange diagonal leather straps on his upper torso area holstering three iron spikes and one sizeable book. Topped off with a black waist-high leather jacket worn only on the shoulders, hanging like a cape.
Lastly, same old burgundy sunglasses, possibly his favourite.

_{During the twenty-five-day trip...}

As if actively maintaining his status as an outcast after his stunt against the Blackthorn Witch, Ludvig remained socially distant with the rest of the team, wiling away the daylights lying down on his horse either reading a book pilfered from the library- a memoir to one Areston Lydus, or just sleeping. Impeccable balance for a former circus acrobat, lying his back down on a moving horse like that. Although, part of it has to do with his horse trotting instead of galloping like other horses.

Despite his preference for coffee, he thought it too much to ask Linceleste to store coffee beans in her storage, especially being the only drinker in the team that he knew of. Instead, for nearly every town they stopped at, he chatted up the nearest homes and brewed coffee in their kitchens. In a way it made the coffee more special and especially varied, for some houses had insufficient supplies of sugar or milk, and/or varied on whether they had white or brown sugar. Some of them even had chocolate.

At night, having garnered sufficient sleep during the day, he self-elected to be the lookout, burning past the nighttime brushing up on his martial arts by stancing or shadowfighting, or doing random calisthenics.

Despite the perceivable loneliness, Ludvig maintained a gentle self-satisfied smile that anyone with prolonged exposure to it would probably assume fake.

_{Present day.}

Ludvig was already not at his trotting horse as soon as Carmen finished talking, instead finding himself at the terrace of the aforementioned inn, drawn to the scent of food being served in it.

A shimmer of magic glossed over him a bit, making him just a little bit tidier as he handcombed his hair while walking towards the bar.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Hi. Yeah, can I have um... Coffee and an omelette, please? Any omelette will do."

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

Hmm.

Ludvig placed the magically cleaned cup set back in the cupboard he took them from, while he mulled over how he'd go about answering the question.
And then, it clicked in his mind. The most efficient solution for him.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Uhh... I believe I'm somewhat of an unreliable narrator... Maybe that's something Adele should tell you herself."

Walks towards Linceleste, right arm reaching past her and towards the three iron spikes and the torn rag that began disappearing upon touch. His shadow casts entirely upon her for a moment.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Think of it as an opportunity to bond. I'm sure you two don't get a lot of those.
Should also be extra motivation for you to stay alive. Yes?"

Winks at her with a smile that visibly, immediately fades as soon as his glance moves away from her, along with his whole body, already heading for the door out.
Waves his right hand, not bothering to glance back at her.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Good night, señorita York."

_{A little while more...}

He sighed.
Lying down on the leftmost third row of the church benches on the building's main hall. Knees hanging over the armrest, left arm pillowing her head as he raised his right hand amidst the rays of moonlight emitting from stained glass windows.

Didn't really feel like sleeping with everyone else in the communal dormitory, especially with the stunt he did just pull.
Plus, he's been homeless for too long that he'd definitely fail to sleep peacefully on bed cushions.

It's all better this way. He had no regrets.
Not one.

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

Speak of the devil's daughter, Ludvig thought.
No, he internally took it back. Even that was too mean.

The back of his right hand should already be facing Linceleste the moment he was in her sights. Evidently the spikes aren't skewering it anymore, neither present were any wounds they would have left. In their place were indented scars, spots of thin skin slightly paler than himself.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "I'm fine. See?"

Wiggles his three other fingers that aren't holding up the coffee cup.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Nothing wrong with sipping coffee alone... Unless you came here to make it less alone?"

Flapping his left hand, urging her to approach.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Come. You're not too young to drink coffee, are you?
Wait, actually don't drink coffee. You'd want to sleep early for tomorrow. There's some milk on the pot here, it's just been pasteurized..."

Grabs a cup and a ladle, fills the cup with warm milk, hands it to Linceleste.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "By that, I mean boiled. Should be safe to drink.
I suppose it's been safe to drink from the start but eh, can't hurt to be safer."

Leans back onto the cupboard. Takes a final, huge sip from his cup of coffee.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "You definitely have your mother's hair. Not her eyes though, hers were a lot more... striking."

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

As soon as Ludvig's palm made contact, three spikes shot out to pierce his right hand and push it away. Well within his expectations.
At about exactly the same moment, chains spurted from below his eyesight. The sharp metal sounds they made, grinding into each other and smashing through the thorns that pierced Ludvig's hand, startled him, making him stumble and fall on his bottom.

He sat there on the ground, glanced at his skewered, bleeding hand with the thorns still pegged into it, and then at Amaris' unamused visage towering over him. His eyesight felt dimming, like the only light in the room was the pale woman and her white hair.
He held back a grin as he thought how little he'd regret if she killed him right at that moment. He caught himself thinking this thought, and self-reflected on how incredibly depraved that was, as he listened to her tell-all with veiled reprimands attached.

He stood up, spikes still lodged through his right hand, yet there was no blood on his hand or clothes. It didn't even really seem to bother him, using his same right hand to rub at the back of his own neck.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Nah, it's my fault. I failed to contain my impulsive thoughts. I didn't mean any disrespect, sorry. I-I think I'll just head out now."

Taps Carmen's shoulder. Almost taps Amaris' shoulder, thankfully remembers and reels back his left hand.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Sorry, mate. Sorry... Amaris."

Glances at the visibly seething Mirielle and shrugs with his shoulders.
Turns away from everyone, heading towards the nearest door, before glancing back at Carmen.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Oh. Which way is the kitchen?"

Even if he didn't answer, his face would've given it away.
The door closes, a little trickle of blood smeared on the doorknob.

_{A little while later...}

Kitchen.
Tiny splotches of blood and three iron spikes atop a torn rag on a countertop that Ludvig leaned his back onto. A freshly brewed cup of coffee in hand, three cubes of sugar and a tablespoon of milk stirred into it, in a ceramic cup with a saucer plate. He slowly sipped then sighed away the heat, while glancing out at a window.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Adele's daughter... Amanita... Amaris...
That can't be a coincidence."

Another sip.

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

Ludvig felt the coldness of that gaze. Oof, there went his chances. A wry smirk escaped his lips for a bit.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "I wasn't going to ask, but now that you've mentioned it...
That does sound interesting. Rare to see an artifact I've never yet witnessed."

Halfway through getting up from his seat, he was suddenly not there, instead mere inches away diagonally behind Amaris.
Index finger up as if to shush Carmen and/or whoever else dared dissuade him.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Ah, ah- I'll be fine. Probably."

Steadily moves his hand closer, while asking Amaris.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "May I?"

Before she could really respond, he lightly palms the back of Amaris' neck with his right hand, away from the sight of most others on the table. Just in case blood doesn't splatter all over the food.

^{If that has no reaction, Ludvig's palm starts glowing white, activating『 Heavenly Dragon's Inverse Healing Palm 』to see if it reacts to mana instead.}
@13org

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

Ludvig walked around the table, opposite side from where Amaris was positioned, and sat back to his seat. Hearing Carnatia's words, he realized his own insensitivity and flinched a bit. Leaning forward with the Djinni's wide-brimmed hat blocking his view.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "urk... I fear I also owe her an apology with my initial reaction.
Sorry. You seem like a good person."

Mana circling around Ludvig's arms, cleaning away spilled wine, as he pushed his cup away and felt some strange need to glance at Mirielle and correct himself.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "I swear I'm not being swayed by her beauty right now. She's-
You seem cordial and well-spoken. Very amicable. You're doing great."

Realizing that he's rambling. Eager to switch the topic. Harking back to the strange veil draping Amaris' head, and the spikes jutting out of it. He's not one to knock others on their fashion sense, but he also felt there was something else about the veil. Sensing hints of mana connecting it and... somewhere in the Archbishop's direction, he couldn't tell from this distance and angle.
It may in fact seem rude, but someone has to bite the bullet at some point. Might as well be him.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "By the way, what's up with the..."

Points above his own head, and shrugs with his hands.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Interesting headwear."

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

Tan-brown tailcoat with black trims, black vest with golden buttons, burgundy long-sleeved polo innerwear that matched his burgundy slacks, and black boots worn over the slacks.

In no particularly discernible instance, a seat at the Hall's table was empty, and its previous tenant Ludvig was on a corner of the Hall, checking out a painting.
A meadow. Blue sky, clouds, grass fading from golden to lime. Notable animal scratches on the frame of the painting. Tiny cursive watermark at the corner,『 hdg 』. Not ringing any bells.

Walked back towards the table, albeit on the wrong side. He was intending to ask Mirielle something, but it was his luck that Amanita started conversing with an adorably earnest question that he couldn't help himself but butt in.
It might come as a shock to those who assumed he was still in his seat.

^{『 Amanita 』}"Is being slow bad?"

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Not necessarily. Good things take time, like... Like this wine, I suppose."

The cup of mushroom wine in his hand. Still didn't feel the intention to drink it, merely a prop in his hand as if to look cool. A lot more clear-coloured than most wines he's encountered. He was getting a little curious with the taste, having it this close to his presence for this long and getting occasional wafts of that mushroom scent, but there's just something about this wine that's making him stubbornly superstitious.
Just a little sip. Should be fine. Just a tiny little sip.

As he carefully pulled the cup closer to his mouth, the Archbishop comes back in with a tray, and a person whose sight made Ludvig cough and spill a little of the wine on the floor.
He didn't know why, or maybe his memory was too spotty to remember why. His mind just irrationally rang the bells of danger on sight, telling him to quickly distance himself.
Although...
It was being counteracted by another part of his mind that thought, despite the irrational fear and the seeming appearance of a ghost who died by a barrage of impalements, he found her... attractive?

He purses his slightly agape lips, swallows and ekes out a smile as he raises his left hand, waving at the white-haired goth.

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

He shrugged while sipping more of this soup, then replied to Osric.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "It's all good. I aim to forget and be forgotten. It's the key to keep experiencing new things."

If he had a much better memory, he was sure that at some point living this long would become highly repetitive, and he'd sooner wish for death or marriage, whichever came first.
Maybe settling in with a family at this point was a good idea... No, he's definitely had that thought a multitude of times before. It'll always be a good idea. All the more reason to never do it.
Although, if he were to do it...

A glance at Mirielle. A smile if she glances back.
He seems to have made frankly too good of an impression on her. Is a relationship worth pursuing? Wouldn't it distract from her religious duties?

The simultaneous conversation felt like it was between a realist and an optimist. He almost found himself agreeing more with Carmen, were it not for the touting of this 'system' that would nobly share their prosperity with seemingly whoever they deemed 'unfortunate'. He was sure that Carmen meant well, yet it also sounded possibly unintendedly too arrogant or braggadocious. Maybe.
The jab at elves, too... Knowing what he knew, he wondered if Carmen had a specific elf in mind. Would it be a problem if this troupe's chain of command weren't on cordial terms?
Maybe Ludvig was just overthinking it.
It would feel so confrontational if he said his thoughts now... He held it in.

It shouldn't dock a lot of points from Carmen's scale of attractiveness, especially with pure-hearted desires like those. Assuming they're not just lip service.
A side-eye while sipping his third and last spoonful of soup.

Absolved Will Be the Saviors

That mask has to be cursed.

Ludvig stared at the damn tall knight named Rezello, as he bit into this baguette sandwich no one seemed to notice him make. Sliced longward, fitted in with long strips of turkey meat, greens and peas. He ate so daintly but he was downing it really quick, while he thought about how the black-haired knight towered several inches above him.
Not just him, but his greatsword, too. How does he even swing that around?

Baguette sandwich gone, and so was Ludvig's train of thought. Was he craving for, what, a fight? With that hulk of a man?
Just imagining the notion came with the images of several people who'd be disappointed in him if they knew he'd been fighting again.

Carnatia's talk of exotic coffee beans introduced a different craving, and yet all he had in front of him was the cup of mushroom wine.
Need some distraction. They talk about the destination, the lands east of here. Ludvig may have been there, but it's been decades upon decades of nomadic behaviour, might be highly irrelevant. Specific locations are as much of a blur as their names, he'd be no help in navigation either.

There's a little bit of disappointment budding in him, how much he's unable to relate to these nobles and church people, with their talks of theocracy and bureaucracy and the processes of making wines. He found himself staring at Mirielle, this carefree petite amassment of sunshine, eating the soup-doused salmon. Better take inspiration from her level of nonchalant.
Ludvig took off his red-tinted glasses, vanishing them away into gods know where and revealing his blue eyes, as he reaches towards the mushroom wine. He might as well drink it now...

Carmen thumped the table, staying Ludvig's hand.

^{『 Carmen 』} "And worse, most of our cardinals bow down to their so-called wise recommendation!

Lightly clenched his hand, moved it away from the cup of mushroom wine. That had to be a sign.
There's something about this mushroom wine he just felt abject to. At least it looked like the Djinni that brewed this didn't care enough to be offended by his refusal to drink.

There was the hot soup, at least. Close enough, just imagine it's a new blend of decaf.
Ludvig sipped from a spoon as he turned to Osric. Aside from remembering his name in association to a most unique firearm, and the mercenary marksman work it enables him to do...

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Did I ever work as your apprentice at some point?"

Maybe not. Then again, he worked some days for a lot of blacksmiths.

Post deletion request

roleplayerguild.com/posts/5558529 confused the new reply for an edit field coz it still had my draft in it