Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task 7 ♟ Defining Tones [FSC]

THE ART OF WAR - SEMIFINALS

It was a special sort of art, Florian thought, to breathe and walk and jump and do all the little things taken for granted. Bodies in particular were something he'd taken an interest in, never from the outside, but always on the inside. Exteriors were deceptive. Interiors were the same everywhere, save for a blackened lung here or a diverted vessel there. A bruise on the outside could mean something entirely different on the inside.

The thing about exteriors and interiors was that, more often than not, they balanced each other out. If something in the pancreas was acting up, you'd likely see it through discolorations of the skin. If there was a crack in the skull, you'd see it, alright, and you'd feel it, too. Internal. External.

Equilibrium.

Florian certainly felt something between the both of these things. Moisture dribbled down his chin and trickled to the back of his throat all at once. There was a hand somewhere, too, grappling at his jaw while something cold pried open his lips. It took him a while to react to this, first with the wriggling of fingers, then with the flick of the wrist, and then a scene of battering away whatever was filling his mouth. He gasped heartily, but it led to a moment of spluttering and coughing as he forced himself to a straight sit upon whatever princess-y seat he'd been draped across this time.

It took him a moment to focus on the faces around him. There was Will at his feet, staring down. There was Athena, having reared back from his momentary outburst. A glass cup rolled over the tile, away from them. He guessed Esme busied herself somewhere else in the room. He heard running water. It ran down his chest, too, soaking the front of his shirt, and when he looked to those around him again, he chuckled sheepishly. "Right, ah, apologies." He inhaled. "What'd I miss? And...when'd I miss it?"

Will and Athena shared a brief look, and Florian raised a brow between the two of them. It was the former, arms crossed a voice gentle, that cleared things up. "You've been buzzing in and out of it ever since we got you out of the cell. We couldn't carry you through literal war, so we all went to the barest part of the palace. That explains that." He swallowed. "They banged you up quite a lot in there, actually. That's probably what did it. That, and the added stress of-"

"Bloody hell," Florian said, rubbing a tired hand over his cheek, his forehead, his eyes. "I don't care. Just tell me what's going on. Please. Before I pass out again, because I damn well feel like I'm gonna."

The running water in an attached room shut off, and the pairing beside him looked up to the source of clacking heels. Florian remained as he was, slumping forward even further so that he could rub the grime of the dungeon from his face.

Not a moment after he did this, though, did a searing cold assault his back, his neck, the top of his head. Water flushed over his shoulders and he flew from the seat, hopping as droplets struck his shoes and hung from the fringe of his hair. "Holy shit!" he gasped. "Holy shit, this is cold!" To Esme he turned, who held a bucket prim and proper at her side as she stared contentedly at him. "What was that for?"

Esme merely shrugged, though she did look awfully smug. "We don't want you falling asleep on us again, do we?" She gingerly set the bucket down where he'd previously been sitting. "Right, well. The Nixes are here, as I'm sure you've gathered. The moment mother dearest arrived they started the assault, and now the streets are in upheaval. Courtyard, too. Now that you're no longer in captivity, we need you jumping in. Hopefully now that you're awake you'll be more reliable?"

Though things were still a bit hazy, he processed things full well, sopping in his spot. "Right. Right." He swept his hands through his hair and squeezed a bit of the liquid out. "Thank you, by the way." A recollection of pre-execution moments fell upon him, then, and he felt a need to reiterate himself so that they truly got the message. "Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you." He closed his eyes.