Who: Styx and open! (and a few closed)
When: Aguril
Where: Out and about.
What: Catch-all for the month! Both quests and some day to day life stuff.
Warnings: None atm, will edit if this changes.

hazard at the harbor;

[it was a leisurely jaunt rather than any requests swirling around the area that had brought Styx down by the harbor. as someone who's spent their most of their life in a decidedly inner city setting, he still can't get enough of all the natural wonders that Aefenglom has to offer - including the vast expanse of water here. it really amazed him that something so massive could just...exist right here, and he's more than content to amble along listening to the sound of docks and waterside trade alike.

of course, all that listening meant that he picks up pretty quickly on the sound of children's laughter when passing by one of the factory buildings. more of a child than a real adult himself, it doesn't take long after the start of his investigation for Styx to be roped into their games, chasing after them with raucous laughter up and over the water towers meant to cool the machinery within in a spirited game of tag. with all of the shrieking excitement and clanging of heavy feet upon metal, it was no wonder that the big guy hadn't realized that they were battering the cooling equipment (and the assembly lines they supported) to a standstill.

later in the day, if you haven't run into him acting about one third of his age, you may instead find Styx in a much grimmer scenario - one of the foremen has come outside at last to investigate the stoppage and discovered the cadre of rebellious workers. the man's shouting all sorts of unkind words at the children before their massive playmate can swing down from the nearest pipe and attempt to intervene; by the time his feet have hit the ground the foreman's grabbed one of the mouthier kids by the collar and begun to violently shake him, at which point all of the placating words on Styx's tongue die in an instant.]

Dude, cut it the hell out!

[he's never so assertive when it comes to himself, but this is different. Styx had always deserved being pushed around and manhandled by authorities in his mind, but he also knew how awful it felt - and that no one else could ever possible have done something to warrant that.

in an instant he's thrust himself between the man and the young boy in his grasp, a powerful hand wrapping around the foreman's wrist and practically crushing it to force him to release the kid with a curse. the drummer doesn't want to escalate things any further than they've already been, but he's drawn the ire of the children's superior now by virtue of being too big to push around the way he was accustomed to doing with his underlings. he's stepping back, half turned to ask the kid if he's alright, when a fist flashes out of the side of his peripheral vision.

there simply isn't enough time to react, and the big guy ends up eating a punch to the side of his face. although he's strong enough that the hit doesn't cause him to stagger backwards, Styx still feels as if the blow has triggered an electric current running through him - only to realize that the feeling is more reality than a metaphor when the other man cries out in mild pain as sparks leap from the drummer's skin and skitter down his arm.

judging from the spasm of horror on Styx's face, he absolutely did not mean to use any of his magic right now. left unchecked, this situation is doomed to spin wildly out of hand.]


striking matches;

[Styx has actually been pretty successful during his work at the matchmaking business, despite the fact that he was more dragged into the job than legitimately confident in his abilities. however, as time's worn on he's started to feel like maybe just matching people up based on the bios was a little...superficial? flimsy, perhaps, was the better way to describe it. just because people had the potential for a spark didn't mean that embers would flare up - they needed to be doing something to really help that, right?

only...well, he wouldn't really know what made for a memorable first date in his own world, let alone a completely foreign one. this is way more effort than anyone should feasibly be putting into a temporary part time job, but here Styx was all the same, weathering a sea of embarrassment and incorrect assumptions by asking some of the shopkeepers most heavily advertising things related to Lunasa and the vows taken during it about what the most popular date spots in the city were.

it's not going very well, judging by his near constant state of a beet red face. the natives, bless their hearts, keep asking him too many questions about his own personal life, oftentimes far too rapidly for the meek drummer to get a word in edgewise and explain himself. at present he's desperately trying to sidle his way out of a store (and employee) that was attempting to foist one of those lovemaking potions on him with the hopes that it could ease some of his nerves when the big event came for him and his bonded!]

I-it's really not...um-! S'not the kinda thing you wanna force, you know? Even if they, uh, know it's gonna happen...

[looking around for the exit to this madness, his eyes alight on someone - anyone - else in the store and his next words address them rather than the employee extolling how natural it all feels, that's part of the charm!]

Sorry, um...'m in the way, aren't I? You probably wanna get home soon.

[tell him he's in the way. give him an excuse to leave. please. this is as close to standing up for himself as he gets, he's going to cry if he ends up with an item like this in his possession.]


secondhand serenades; (late Aguril)

[he'd done it! he'd finally, actually done it!! Styx has been working with probably the most earnest effort he's put forth since coming here on this project, visiting damn near every music store in the city and working with the employees over ugly sketches and clumsy explanations, and now the time is at hand to reap the rewards. today he got to swing by one of the stores and pay for his drum kit, lovingly custom built and damn near close to the set he'd been forced to leave in his own world for a society more or less stuck in the Victorian age.

needless to say, he's ecstatic. being unable to play for so long has been like living with an itch you just couldn't scratch, always out of reach - and now, with relief literally within his grasp? he just can't wait until he got home to try it out. the store had said he had until the end of day to return the little cart he was moving everything with, so surely a brief detour would be fine..?

whether it is or not, the big guy's setting up his kit in the first park he passes by, a wild grin on his face long before he begins playing. those who've met Styx before may be struck with just how different the man looks wailing away on those drums; not only was he completely uninhibited, comfortable with every aspect of himself, but he felt powerful. it truly was like a fearsome demon was playing those things, smashing to a beat that could rattle god himself from the clouds.

it's no wonder that, despite the intimidating intensity of the music he's playing, that Styx has attracted a little gathering of fascinated picnic-goers. he doesn't notice them at first, completely absorbed in releasing all of the pent up energy that's been building in him for over a month now, but the smattering of applause when he eventually pauses for breath certainly grabs his attention. his cheeks are pink from more than just exertion now, but he's genuinely pleased to receive the audience's compliments - as well as take requests, provided that they don't mind humming a few bars of any unfamiliar tune for him.

in fact, you could probably get in some music of your own if you don't mind nudging a few overzealous children out of the way! the big guy really does look like he'd be more than content to stay here and play until the heat death of the universe.



...orrrrr, those people you have to nudge out of the way to chat up Styx yourself might be recognizable as some of the musicians who've been hired to provide instrumental accompaniment for those selfsame picnic-goers. the drummer had hardly meant to crimp on their gig, but there was no denying that he's been absorbing a lot of their tip revenue, no matter how earnestly he tries to return it to the giver every time. standing within earshot easily reveals that they're ganging up a bit on the hapless idiot, smoothly and surely convincing him that if he doesn't want to be a jackass he should definitely give them back the money that he so cold-heartedly stole from these hardworking and impoverished people!

that's a bit problematic, isn't it?]

[ooc; feel free to spin any of the prompts in a different direction if you've got a good idea! alternately, if none of these catch your eye but you still want to do something shoot me a PM here or at phantomblood and I'd be happy to write you up a starter. ouo]