driftfleet | video

Who: Sorey, Mikleo & y'all!!!
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Selvin-9
When: Early January

[The video starts out jostling and blurry, like some kind of snowed-in Blair Witch project. There’s even screaming- oh no, that’s just excited screaming, and it’s more like breathless squeaks than screams.]

Mikleo- Mikleo! Get it get the- you got it?

I’ve got it. I still think this is ridiculous…

[There’s a jostling movement as the communicator is transferred from one to the other, and for a moment it lingers on a seemingly-empty wolf kigu, its wearer invisible but sounding as unimpressed as the costume’s expression. It’s gone in a flash, and Sorey suddenly darts into view, wearing a goblin kigu, running through the snow with the clumsiness of a person unaccustomed to winter weather, over to a truly ugly snow sled…with wheels.]

Do you see this?! [Sorey seems unable to contain himself, gleeful and giddy, posing in front of the sled with a peace sign in front of a rental shop on the slope.] This is the coolest thing ever- ohhh, I wish we could buy it!

[Sorey suddenly gets closer to the camera, grinning a grin that precludes any rational decision-making.] Hey Keith! I challenge you to a sled race! Or anybody, anybody who’s game! I’ll bet rental fees and hot chocolate that I can beat you!

[There’s a long-suffering sigh - albeit mildly affectionate - from behind the camera. Mikleo’s done this song and dance before, it’s old hat.]

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[He can sort of read that expression, and judges correctly he said something wrong when Mikleo goes on.]

Forgive me, I did not mean to give offense with my assessment. [He doesn't try to explain further because he's pretty sure he'll just dig a deeper hole. 'You don't seem like a non-sapient water sprite' isn't exactly a high bar.

The part about being revered as gods gives him some pause, but he chases it from his expression with a polite smile.]

But Sorey is different.

That's a nicer way of saying he's weird.

[He's all affection, though, mingled with stubborn exasperation. Yeah, Sorey's different. He loves his weird unusual dumb human.]

He was raised in a seraph village alongside me, so his way of viewing seraphim is a bit different than your average human.

[He can sort of tell. Sorey already tipped his hand that they're dating, so he has a certain expectation.]

Quite literally, too, I suspect.

[He rubs his chin.]

Does he struggle to describe you at times? I have an idea of my own, though perhaps you have already thought of it...

Describe me? I guess... he mostly just flounders and says something vague.

[blah blah blah this is my seraph friend, they are beautiful in nonspecific ways]

What are you thinking about?

[He nods. It seemed that way to him when he pressed Sorey for answers.]

I can draw your portrait from what I see now-- with some adjustments made from your input, of course. Either you or Sorey would be able to produce the sketch and give anyone an idea of who they were conversing with.

Oh! I see, um.

[well shit now he's actually embarrassed. there's even a bit of frost thinning on his cheeks.]

That really isn't necessary... I mean, that sounds like a lot of work for something he'll just forget about anyway, and it isn't that important that people know what I look like...

[He can kind of tell Mikleo's embarrassed. He has a knack for reading people, as long as he isn't dying of fluster himself.]

It isn't any work at all. You would only need to sit for a few minutes at the most, and maybe correct me on the size of your nose, if anything.

[He draws fast.]

[Mikleo exhales quietly, still embarrassed but with very little argument, and finally shrugs his shoulders, glancing away.]

If... you feel so inclined, then, you can do as you please.

[He's never posed for anything before... geez, hopefully Sorey won't notice this happening.]

[Well! That's basically a yes. Ever prepared, he pulls a sketchbook out of his huge coat. A pencil is fetched from still another pocket, and an eraser too.]

I would rather not trouble you to find a more suitable location, so...

[He dusts off a nearby log and sits down on one end.]

You can sit if you like.

No, this is fine. I've been sitting around on Sorey's ridiculous sled this whole time, so I'd like to be on my feet for a while.

[He'll just, um. Cross his arms and stand there? Posing...? He's doing his best to be casual, but between his fluster and how his idea of "casual" is still kind of snobbish, who knows.

There is now a posing Mikleo-shaped ice statue in the middle of the snow-fluff. It's actually quite picturesque, so hopefully Alphinaud will find it suitable enough for a portrait.]

It is quite ridiculous, but I daresay he is having too much fun to stop him.

[That's something they can probably agree on.

There's something deeply ironic about sketching a person who looks like a statue posing like a statue. Alphinaud works quickly enough, his pencil dancing across the paper as he slowly fills in the shapes, and then details, of an icy seraph. Though he doesn't have an idea of color, he can see the shadows around Mikleo's face just fine. He bites his lip as he draws intently. Occasionally he traces Mikleo's features in the air.

He adjusts Mikleo's eyes to give them a little more of a quizzical slant, paired with a skeptical curl of his lip. The finer details and embroidery on his seraphic clothes are somewhat cautiously replicated, but that's okay; the important features are all there, including the little waves in his hair.

When he's done, it's something along the lines of a cross-hatched sketch from the waist up. He lifts his sketchbook and turns it toward Mikleo so he can see.]

This should work in a pinch, I think.

[There's an odd, lengthy pause as Mikleo glances over at Alphinaud's call, his gaze falling to the page. At first he's merely startled by the detailed nature of the sketch, but after a moment or two it clicks- how long it's been since he saw himself, really saw himself. Reflections never come easily to seraphim, after all, and he's rarely fussed about it because what matters is how he envisions himself to be, after all. Anything more than that is vanity, and could lead to struggling against that true self, which could draw in malevolence...

So it's silly, and potentially dangerous, but even so- it's nice. It's nice to see it, to visualize, to confirm that yes, that's him. That's how they see him.

He moves closer, bending down to get a closer look, visibly fascinated. He half-reaches out to touch it but stops himself, not wanting his frosted fingers to ruin the art.]

That's... much more than I imagined it would be, with how you talked. You're incredibly skilled.

[Another quick pause, and then-]

Really, that's-?

[And it's not like he doesn't know, the question's practically rhetorical, but- geez. How cool is that.]

[Mikleo's reaction is a little strange without context, but Alphinaud was warned that seraphim don't have reflections. He realizes right then that what he thought was a tiny gesture actually means much more. His heart is glad for it.]

Thank you. I fell out of practice, but a sudden dearth of adventures has seen me sketching more often.

[His lips curve.]

It scarcely compares to the real thing, but I hope it helps.

Hah... I'm not so sure about that, but it's kind of you to say it.

[Mikleo drags his gaze away from the book, feeling that same flush creep over his cheeks, head ducking to try and fight it. Now he's embarrassed by the sketch and his own silly reaction to it. What does it matter, seeing his own face like that? It's stupid. Ugh.]

I still have my doubts that Sorey will remember to use it the way it's intended, but knowing him, he'll be very thankful. For some reason he likes looking at my face.

[It's because he's pretty and he damn well knows it, but it's too much to say that, so.]

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