diatu | [Open] To Lose Time

Who: Eleven + Anyone!
What: Settling In Catch-all
Where: Various
When: First few days/first week
Warnings: Possible spoilers for Act 2 leading into 3

1. Classes

Despite the urging to take up Draconic Knowledge, Eleven ultimately resumed his previous class schedule without change. And so, dressed in the deep blue robes of Eiather house, he attempted to settle back into the monotony of classwork.

"I recall some of this," he mused quietly, in the lull of instruction when they were meant to be working. Eleven himself wasn't terribly focused, writing sporadic and distracted. "But those memories are vague.."

2. Dragonfire Library

Given a need for somewhere to read and write quietly, Eleven found himself swiftly seeking out a library. While memory served to remind him that the Temple had one, it wasn't until he purused some of the more esoteric tomes of this library that he recalled why he'd had a preference for Raida's. Still.. the information he was looking for likely wasn't all that common.

Various books with titles featuring the word or concept of 'time' made up a small pile on the desk as he flipped through them, brows drawing increasingly closer together.

He set one down with a frown and a quiet admission.

"..Maybe these aren't going to be helpful."

3. Temple of Raida

He'd stood outside for longer than he should, at this point. His golden hawk familiar bristled on his shoulder, catching the light, then shifted to turn its head and preen. Eleven reached up and brushed his finger down the soft breast feathers.

"I should, shouldn't I? You're here, after all. I think that means something."

4. Wildcard

[ooc: feel free to make something else up if these prompts don't work for you! I'm happy to roll with most anything. prose/action is fine.

Also happy to accept TDM threads as canon if you'd like]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sympathy softened his eyes. A desire to be home, a wish to be able to rest. He took a moment to ponder the possibility of immortals, then decided he'd wonder about it if and when he came across such beings.

"It seems that way- at least so far as this world and my own are concerned. Though I had been travelling back through time.." He trailed off, thoughtful, then hummed shortly. His smile turned sheepish as he shrugged. "I don't understand it all that much even so, but I hope this place is kind to you."

"Time travel... Things are complicated enough without that." He mostly talked to himself, avoiding the look in Elliott's eyes. He knew when people were feeling sorry for him and it never felt great.

"Kind, not kind, it doesn't matter. I doubt it will be, I hate it." He hated everything. "I just need to keep the people I care about together. That's all that matters. Until everything is thrown in crises and then we'll see."

Eleven hummed shortly, eyes lowering. A trace of the stranger's anguish echoed vaguely in his chest. He wondered what had drawn the man to him- or if he'd simply needed someone to listen. Questions too personal to ask rose to his tongue, then settled.

"..I'll help, if I'm able to."

"No." That said a little more sharply than he meant and he sighed. "No, it's fine. Thank you but it's fine. Just...stick to your own messes. It's already complicated enough."

After a moment he said:

"So you've been here before... is there anything I need to be aware of?"

He nodded short acceptance, not meaning to interfere, but unable to stay the will to help where it might be needed.

Eleven considered the question. "I can't think of much you aren't likely to have heard about by now, and my own memories are slowly returning like half-faded dreams. The greatest warning I can think of at the moment is that there was a dragon beneath the school. I don't know if it's still there, but it was an arrogant presence."

But with nothing else coming to him, he shrugged. "I'm a decent blacksmith, so if you find yourself in need of a weapon, I intend to start taking Forging commissions again in the coming months once I've had some time to recall the art as it exists here."

"Watch that wake up when we least expect it and then we'll have to deal with it." He sighed, looking at his book. It wasn't something he could even conceive of, despite everything that had already happened, but it was definitely something to start thinking about.

"Weapon I need like a hole in the head. A good chemist on the other hand wouldn't be a bad idea." Though he doubted one was around. And then: "Would you like a sentient whip with bladder issues?"

Eleven grinned uncertainly; not altogether sure if the man was joking or not. The details were a little too specific, but it was just enough oddity to place as a native familiar.

"I think I prefer not to ask. Unfortunately, I don't know any chemists. A healer, if need be."

"I think I'd prefer not to know." A joke, told without much tone change. "A healer... I don't like healers... All that mucking about inside your body. They could be doing anything. Like a surgeon is going to put a knife on you and sutures in you but they're not going to leave bits of themselves floating around, are they?"

Eleven's smile faded, eyes turning to thoughtful consideration of the man before him. The part of himself that had been sick with grief and the frustration of powerlessness in the wake of abject failure loomed across the table- now too, guilty of more than just a wavering belief.

His heart shredded itself.

"..Have faith at least in the people dear to you."

"Have faith in them?" He says it automatically as if it's the most ridiculous thing he's heard. Have faith in them? The life he might have had... well, there didn't seem to be much faith to be had, not that he blamed her for it, Christ, how could he? He'd been a bad enough husband if he was one and father to boot no doubt. And here? With Fell being whatever he was and Anthony not remembering him? What was there to have faith in?

"I'd rather just have faith in myself." He, at least, knew where he stood.

Eleven hummed shortly, eyes dropping to the desk and the few books with their unfocused titles. He hadn't had faith in himself then, relying on everyone else's faith in him as a crutch instead.

His fingers picked at a stray spot of dust clung to one of the hardcovers.

"At least you have faith in something," he mused over a quiet frown. "May it never falter."

"A paltry faith, but it's better than nothing." He eyed the boy, wondering about him, wondering who he really was. "And you? What do you believe in?"

Eleven met his eyes with a soft determination.

"I believe in kindness, and the strength of those that have supported me. I have faith in Yggdrasil and the will of Light and Life, no matter what form they might take. And," he hesitated for a moment, then nodded to himself. "I now believe in the purpose I was given- to foster that light wherever it's needed."

Well, he'd asked. He should have been prepared for an answer like this. It wasn't a bad one. How could anything be bad or good when it was so personal? But the way it was delivered was so achingly sincere, the side of him that was raised in Britain reeled back a little at such naked vulnerability. How did you even reply to that sort of thing?

Good luck?

"Might find a lot of use for that here." He had no bloody idea but it sounded right to say. "Hope you're prepared."

Eleven nodded shortly with a small, unfurling smile. He'd never had the confidence to say so aloud before- only that he'd try.

"I'm prepared to do what I can."

[Open] To Lose Time

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