His decision to await for clearance priced at fifteen minutes. His greenish hued orbs pivoted towards his movements, drinking in his negligence in concocting… whatever he was attempting to procure. This pricked him with a slice of prescience that this being was not a uniformed human, or perhaps, one that stood beyond the definition of morality. On a notable contemplation, this existence reminded him extensively of Milla and Muzet.
Bandaged digits perched themselves on his hip, shifting his weight towards his left. His mind begun to reeled in scrutiny — predominantly flickering over the dual choices pertaining to the situation. To approach or indulge in continual linger? If it entailed to assimilate the foreign location he unfortunately alighted in, Ludger was ascertain that this boy wouldn’t be the only animate being about. However, surveying his lack of capability in handling a kettle tended to nudge at a more solicitous entity in him.
With no further ponder, Ludger prompted his stiffened feet to saunter towards him.
"It’s going to sting your skin if you approach the boiling kettle with physical contact."
Descending with a knee against the sturdy ground, Ludger grasped the tip of the spoon carefully between his index finger and thumb. He stirred the liquid in circular motions for only a marginal while before scoping the fluid using the curved end. He first brought it inches away from his lips to blow, only offering the collected liquid to the youngster when it was deemed at least warm enough to consume and savour.
Ludger’s gaze fixated itself onto the other, silently prompting him to attempt the taste. On a side note, Ludger wasn’t certain on what he was conjuring with a solitary kettle in the first place.
So, this one has the ability to see and communicate with him. Yet there is something ‘offsetting’ about this one’s existence. His aura; it is as though the world around him is ‘bent’ or misconstrued. But at the moment, that deduction was at the bottom of the list on his various his prime interests. Moreso, the entity is a little bitter and embarrassed that he was caught in such an immature act. Divines are meant to be ethereal essences that manipulate their attuned element. His stoic demeanor had faltered in such a childish rouse, his desire to absorb more knowledge about the human realm has diverted his poise in acting out the proper role.
Granted, no one would have foreseen his good fortune in coming into contact with someone else that bore the ‘gift.’ Legends are told, rarely are they seen; that is his perspective on the matter at hand. Humans, while amiable creatures— no longer conceived their world in accordance to the layered existences it inhabited. Therefore, his kindred went from being interwoven with the human realm to another lost myth. His pale lips partitioned for a split second; as though he would utter another word underneath his belated breath. It catches in his throat, and his violet gaze pivots to the opposite corner of the room.
For the first time in such a long, long time— he is nervous.
Anxiety is an unknown sensation that settles awkwardly into the pith of his stomach—.
This is a foreign experience; the Divine has never gotten to exchange words with humans outside his general comfort-zone.
❝I-I don’t want it—.❞ Came the sudden dismissal, shifting his hand against the loose air in-between them. But the bitter snap that might’ve come from his voice is not as harsh as it could be. In fact, the smaller male is avoiding eye-contact and has his shoulders bristled. Forearms crossed against the slim torso; eyelids closing and chin pointed upright as he attempted not to glimpse back.
❝And I knew that,❞ an almost inaudible rebuke, shifting his weight from one foot unto the other. ❝I never chose to eat anything before. I thought it was interesting. How it is that you humans manage to shove numerous forms of sustenance into your mouths.❞ If he didn’t know better; he might’ve said that his current facial expression was that of common human ‘pouting.’
The surprise arrests him, holds him in a stasis of momentary disbelief as the shape and shadow shift into a form he knows now is not simply a construct of a mind whose attentions were worn too thin and diffuse. The young man that had manifested was too opaque, too blatantly tangible for Cline to stand in obstinate doubt and blatant denial. The voice that reaches him is indistinct, muffled but only becoming clearer with every syllable.
”I am not going to hurt you.”
Words meant to assuage him, to placate the rising panic he was sure was bubbling somewhere decidedly useless like leaden limbs, the forceful reality of the assured-looking boy so close to him steadies his stance when the jolt is no longer sufficient. He is vaguely aware that his lips are parted, trying to form around words that evade him. For a moment, they stand as comical mirrors, reflecting in each other an observant stillness, though one was maintained by tension, the other an almost pointed show of calm.
Their proximity is not a factor that crosses his mind until a hand so quickly closes the gap. The brush of fingers against his hair, across his clothes, translating only into an almost second-hand facsimile of physical contact gently cracks any delusions of unreality he may have clung to. Uncertainty leaves him patient, allowing the tactile explorations of the stranger manifest from air.
"— Are you?" His voice betrays only the slightest quiver, the borrowed authority nothing more than a front carefully constructed years prior. "You weren’t there, just a moment ago." The certainty in his voice has dimmed, the statement left open in a half-question, drawing in a fraction of a breath as the hands left him be. To take a step back would have been best, but something still binds him to his spot, resolute in a single aspect only.
The obvious question of what are you hangs delicately close to the tip of his tongue, ready to be spoken but withheld for the sake of politeness, the singular iota of decorum Cline thought he yet possessed.
As the light-haired male seemed to got throughout the phases akin to astonishment and then hesitant acceptance— the Divine has chosen to remain patient. This was not the first time another human had seen him phase in and out. Such strain had been brandished on his end of the spectrum with little to show for his valiant efforts. Humans have lost their sight; but simply because something is not seen does not mean that its existence is vacant. Possibilities are not to go to waste in this realm, and as soon as he’d caught the slightest sliver of a reaction in this one’s stance. He was not going to let it vanish. Even though it might be temporary, he is relieved that for the moment he can interact with the world around him. Ever since he’s set his path to walk amongst them— so far from the comfort of the Divine Forest— it has grown harder to sustain such isolation.
Without his human counterpart; he is truly alone. Like a fragment adrift in the vast ocean with no apparent direction. No doubt, the Divine would struggle to cope so long as he remained in his bubble. To be lost is but one unexpected hurdle. To be abandoned is another— though he doubted that the brunet meant to leave him. Perhaps it was a forceful separation; to be honest he cannot recall how it is he wandered into this place. It was the sounds that brought him upon the echoes that followed this land’s harkened rainfall. The lullabies that resonate from the oceanic current had also guiding him to this small port.
Could it also be that another ‘force’ had urged him to make this trek to connect this particular human to him—?
❝Humans called us ‘the Divine,’ and sadly that’s as simple as I can explain it,❞ he replied with an exasperated tone; various details about their kind and their historic relationship with one another could lead into numerous complexities. For the moment, the petite Divine shall spare the doe-eyed male. It was not his intent to overwhelm. ❝I’ve been here the entire time.❞ His thinned brow that had been furrowed in an almost comical manner has been lifted at the other’s muddled expression. ❝You didn’t notice until I got a little more— aggressive.❞ Both hands lifted up and then touched against the upper torso. Mimicking the familiar ‘nudge’ he had given the blond seconds before; still not minding (or perhaps not understanding) the lack of personal space between them.
After all, he is as much an observer as he is an advisor, therefore it would make perfect sense to manipulate his presence in order to advance upon his chosen target. ❝It was a whim,❞ he murmured in an almost subdued manner. Sheepish since he has not spoken to someone outside his realm minus said childhood friend and then the others that borrowed his inbred talent. ❝I—. I cannot be seen unless circumstances are met.❞ Yet, fortune has chosen to smile upon him this night.
❝Everything is still a little foggy,❞ he removed his hands to touch atop his temple. ❝The one human that could also see me— we were separated. So I found you.❞
Tales of Zestiria - Main cast gameplay
A step forward was the time it took for his surroundings to distort into blurred waves, prompting his expression to weave confound before he steeled himself to confront any possible predicament he may be hurled into. A fractured dimension? The ambiance of the phenomenon did not pronounce any indication towards his insinuation, rendering him impotent until the warping dispersed into a secured environment.
When he did, Ludger was keen in noting that he might be perched nowhere in Elympios or Reize Maxia. He could not fully attest for his assumption, however, for there was neither a verification that he was not in his world nor for his journey to have scoured the entire lands in his dimension.
An almost inaudible rustling seized his attention, prompting Ludger to divert his attention towards the source. His investigation trudged him towards a boy with a hair of notable silver and armed with foreign garbs. Ludger’s brows furrowed forward as though contemplating if he should intervene in his affair or patiently stands his ground until he was deemed ready to approach.
> (Remain silent and wait)
Well, he was about halfway to tasting human food for the first time on his tongue until he grew somewhat anxious due to this specific presence looming in the backend of the room. Of course, with most humans being inadequate to ‘see’ it meant so little. He could waltz around and tip over random objects; bring down a massive thunderstorm. Humans would see no suspicion behind it. Daily occurrences without aid via deities or spirits. It is difficult to even articulate the difference between the Divine and those spiritual essences that circulated across this realm. Each role; each life, no matter the placement of kindred has a pivotal part to uphold in the cogs that shaped their imminent future.
But what is most important at the moment was learning to eat like a normal human being. Unneeded, perhaps— but isn’t it natural to maintain such a healthy curiosity towards one’s surroundings?
Since there is also the fact that this water Divine’s childhood friend partook in this daily routine; it wasn’t too farfetched to hypothesize that Mikleo sought to capture the sensation as well. Despite his benevolence towards humans, he did maintain quite the rivalry with them as well. Not in the sense that he thought the Divines were above others— but moreso in the ‘optimal balance sought between opposing forces’ manner.
The tin spoon in the pot is swiveling around; the flow in the liquid is beginning to ebb and shift. Perhaps due to his interest in it. Svelte pale digits outstretched and began to touch against the slim side. Pulling his hand back after a split second— the water Divine cradled his knuckles and coiled his hand into a loose cradle. It’s rather hot; too hot to even think about placing that anywhere near his mouth. Scowling at the blackened kettle, those violet optics gyrated towards the figure that has been blankly staring in this general direction for about five minutes.
Oh, he’s noticed that someone had been present—. But he didn’t dare believe for a moment that his fortune would turn. Unless this one was unconsciously drawn into a pact with his kindred there was an almost phantasmal chance that he’d be able to see him without it. Being born with that ‘gift’ is borderline impossible. And yet, the silver-haired male is gazing into him as though he were viewing a solidified manifestation.
When I see it with my own eyes… That’s when I’ll know the meaning behind the traditions.
Princess Edna sure is a handful, isn’t she.I don’t want to hear that from you, M-boy…