his imperial bitchiness 🌙 emet-selch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unsunder) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
diademlogs2026-02-10 07:10 pm
unsunder) wrote in diademlogs2026-02-10 07:10 pm
( closed ) when the river's running red;
Who: Alisaie & Emet-Selch
Where: A diffusion zone
When: Early February
What: Final Fantasy XIV dungeon theme music playing in the distance.
Warnings: None at the moment. Will update if needed!
[ By the time he runs into it, Emet-Selch is ready aware of the traveling diffusion zone, there and gone again in a matter of days, containing some manner of mansion. Usually, he wouldn’t give such a thing a second glance, but it happened to pop up somewhere days away from the city, catching him quite by surprise and in dire need of a bit of respite.
Well, he hears the place has decent wine, if he can get there.
His is not the only vehicle present when he pulls up alongside the river of… chocolate? (Entirely un-appetizing looking, stuffed full of strange corpses and who knows what else.) Though, he doesn’t quite recognize the van parked nearby until he steps out of his truck and spots a familiar, petite white-haired figure trying to wrestle a swan boat into some kind of submission.
Some quirk of where this diffusion zone has chosen to spawn this particular time has given the normally docile (if the rumors are to be believed) river quite the current. Some wandering soul thought to moor the boat, but now it’s fighting any attempts to be pulled to shore and boarded.
Emet-Selch watches Alisaie struggle for far too long. Not because he enjoys it, but because seeing her has him rooted to the spot, remembering all too well how they last parted. How there is a fondness for her rooted deeply in his withered old heart that he cannot get rid of no matter how hard he might try. The life they lived aboard the train was a falsehood, but the feelings won’t leave him. She had been precious to him. Precious in a way that nothing has ever been before or since.
Seeing her so soon after that wretched train ride feels raw. Like this damned place is trying to crack him open all over again by placing her in this place at this time, like it has to be some deliberately cruel twist of fate rather than mere chance.
He should just go. She’s too busy with her task to notice him.
Oh, but he can’t. The idea of abandoning her now sits wrong, even knowing that a couple of moons ago, he could have walked away easily.
The decision is made for him anyroad, when one of those grotesque corpses comes careening down the river to knock into the boat, nearly pitching her into the water. (Water?) He’s there before he even realized he’d moved, hands on the rope, feet planted behind her to pull back, keeping her upright and the boat steady.
He doesn’t say anything. What could he even say at this point? ]
Where: A diffusion zone
When: Early February
What: Final Fantasy XIV dungeon theme music playing in the distance.
Warnings: None at the moment. Will update if needed!
[ By the time he runs into it, Emet-Selch is ready aware of the traveling diffusion zone, there and gone again in a matter of days, containing some manner of mansion. Usually, he wouldn’t give such a thing a second glance, but it happened to pop up somewhere days away from the city, catching him quite by surprise and in dire need of a bit of respite.
Well, he hears the place has decent wine, if he can get there.
His is not the only vehicle present when he pulls up alongside the river of… chocolate? (Entirely un-appetizing looking, stuffed full of strange corpses and who knows what else.) Though, he doesn’t quite recognize the van parked nearby until he steps out of his truck and spots a familiar, petite white-haired figure trying to wrestle a swan boat into some kind of submission.
Some quirk of where this diffusion zone has chosen to spawn this particular time has given the normally docile (if the rumors are to be believed) river quite the current. Some wandering soul thought to moor the boat, but now it’s fighting any attempts to be pulled to shore and boarded.
Emet-Selch watches Alisaie struggle for far too long. Not because he enjoys it, but because seeing her has him rooted to the spot, remembering all too well how they last parted. How there is a fondness for her rooted deeply in his withered old heart that he cannot get rid of no matter how hard he might try. The life they lived aboard the train was a falsehood, but the feelings won’t leave him. She had been precious to him. Precious in a way that nothing has ever been before or since.
Seeing her so soon after that wretched train ride feels raw. Like this damned place is trying to crack him open all over again by placing her in this place at this time, like it has to be some deliberately cruel twist of fate rather than mere chance.
He should just go. She’s too busy with her task to notice him.
Oh, but he can’t. The idea of abandoning her now sits wrong, even knowing that a couple of moons ago, he could have walked away easily.
The decision is made for him anyroad, when one of those grotesque corpses comes careening down the river to knock into the boat, nearly pitching her into the water. (Water?) He’s there before he even realized he’d moved, hands on the rope, feet planted behind her to pull back, keeping her upright and the boat steady.
He doesn’t say anything. What could he even say at this point? ]
no subject
The comparison of course had led in a cyclical fashion, pointing her mind back towards thinking about one Emet-Selch and the myriad of feelings that she had felt after the meteor shower. When she does find herself thinking about it, she's usually quite prompt in shaking the thought away. Alisaie has decided that she is tired of grief (silly, considering she is so young), but she has had her fill of it here and what better way to avoid thinking about it and her conflicting feelings than by exploring diffusion zones on her own?
It goes without saying she would never advise anyone else to do this. Several days ago she had been scolding Jack for doing something equally idiotic. But the difference there, on paper at least, is that he is an archangel - some sort of immortal being. And she is very much flesh and blood and susceptible to death like any mortal is. Danger isn't quite top of mind for her however as she wrestles with this accursed swan boat closer to shore.
Being alone (at least she thinks she's alone), she has no issue cursing and muttering not very quietly under her breath as she strains against (what she assumes to be) tangles and weeds that hold it in place. ]
Matrons! [ Tug. ] Teats! [ Pull. ] Come out you blasted thing!
[ The comedic timing of the corpse that comes careening around the river just as she frees the boat from whatever had been holding onto it would have resulted in her pitching headlong into the river. Her feet slip on the sludgy floor and she lets out a gasp trying to hold on when suddenly there's a grounding force behind her. Alisaie's head swivels as she looks back to see who had helped her only to be confronted with the man she had been trying not to think about. ]
You -
[ Alisaie's voice falters. Her heart isn't nearly as raw as it had been on the train so she saves them both the embarrassment of not bursting into tears again. That doesn't stop her cheeks from turning pink and her face contorting however as she tries to school her expression into something a little more furious than upset. Whatever she settles on will have to do as she quickly turns back around, digging her feet in and bracing her center of gravity as she adjusts her grip on the rope. ]
Help me pull it in on the count of three?
no subject
Even with his help, the boat is determined to fight them. He gives a sharp nod in response to her question, waits for her to turn back around and get planted, ready to pull. ]
On my mark, then. One… two… three!
[ It takes a mighty heave from them both, but with the added help, the boat finally surges toward the shore, bumping against the bank. He holds tight, gritting his teeth while the current continues to fight them both. ]
And just what, pray tell, were you planning on doing once you got the damned thing over here? Certainly not brave the crossing yourself.
[ Right Alisaie?
Right? ]