The Chained Watcher

Back to the Lounge

Merry (belated) Christmas to you all! Woulda posted this last night, but my sister would literally have delayed going to sleep just to read it, so morning chapter instead.

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Working on redoing the enchantments on the bracelets (and Cleo's earrings), Grian hummed to himself, thoughts wandering. It might be nice to enchant a jukebox to play music for him in here, just to make the ambiance a bit more cozy. Like his old music box! Part of him finds that he actually misses the little trinket, sitting here in the silence. It just always knew what music to play to liven the mood, you know?

He keeps his senses much less restricted when in here, so he can have time to hide away any potentially controversial things he works on. Not that he's planning to do anything immoral or unethical, but some of his friends may have some issues with him creating an item that will let its wielder curse anyone who attempts to kill them to have their heart cease beating.

Hey, it's a self-defense weapon, okay? Purely retaliatory. Not like there's much of a difference between stabbing someone with a sword and magically killing them on the spot. It's less bloody too!

But anyways, as he puzzles over the question of how he would bypass his own defensive bracelets with only a Tier 3's strength, he senses a familiar bundle of excitement running down the long hallway to enter his lounge. With a smile, he dulls his sense of emotions, turning his gaze onto the door.

"Oh Grian~" Scar bursts through the door, grinning up at him where he sits on the other side of the room. "I've come to make good on a certain promise that was made!"

Propping his cheek up on his fist, Grian humors the apprentice wizard, asking, "And what would that promise be, my little friend?"

Dramatically, Scar flicks his own hood like one would sassily flick a lock of hair, explaining, "Why, you promised to let me play in your hood! It happened when we were rescuing Cleo, if you must know when."

He plants his forehead on his knee, letting out a heartfelt sigh. "I need to stop making random promises like that. Fine, I'll add a hood to my sweater for you to sit in."

"Eh?" Scar pouts, complaining, "But that's obviously a different type of fabric! Your sweater feels like yarn, but your cloak was almost like fluffy silk, which isn't how silk works but is really cool despite that."

"...You want me to wear my Watcher cloak?" It's honestly rather tempting. The cloak he wears as a Watcher never feels uncomfortable on him, and is much more pleasant against the skin than wool or yarn or any normal cloth. But still. "It's very obviously a Watcher cloak though. As comfortable as it is, I don't want to bring up any bad memories."

"Well it's just us here, right? I don't mind the cloak too much when it's you that's wearing it. It's more that haughty demeanor combined with it that's a bad thing, not the thing itself."

"...If you're sure."

"Of course I'm sure! And if it really does give me the heebie jeebies, I'll just tell you, and you'll go back to your sweater!"

"I guess you're right." He'll just have to let himself take a very blurred peek at the emotional leakage around Scar to make sure he won't keep quiet about being upset by the cloak. "I'll swap to my cloak then."

His magic swirls around him, wrapping around like cloth as it finds the familiar shape that is his cloak. The soft, silky texture that manifests as it solidifies into cloth is one he has to admit to missing a fair bit. There's no roughness, no tight spots where twisting a certain way will pull the cloth tight, no misproportioned parts where it's too tight for his frame... Perfect. He reaches one hand up to lower the hood, turning his focus onto Scar.