Nursed back to health

[pippilongsockings]

Nursed Back to Health Comment with your character, preferences, preferred role, and any information you'd like to include. Your character has either been injured/sick and had to be taken in (possibly against their will) or has been the one to help somebody like the former. Through the mending process, the two characters in a thread have fallen in love - or at least grown closer and more affectionate. Reply to others. Thread.

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[demainvient]

[ He tips the bottle up to his lips and watches as she brightens and blossoms, animated with her enthusiasm. He's tired and sore, and as little as he'd like to admit it to Maelle, he's currently feeling every day of his thirty-two years and more besides. It's nice to let her excitement wash over him, to see the delight back in her face. ]

No, I think you're right.

[ Finding Maelle had lessened some of the burning, almost obsessive need to march on straight through this strange world, to never veer from the path. There have been moments since leaving the impossible manor where he's found himself looking around, the curiosity that had been dulled and silenced by the massacre on the beach sparking once more like a match in darkness. ]

There's a lot to learn, and it's a pity that so much of our focus has had to be on simply the things that want to kill us. This place might be a shell of its former self, but that doesn't mean it's dead and empty.

[ The bottle lowers, presses against his leg as he looks out toward the glowing numbers across the water. ]

When we defeat the Paintress, I'd like to spend some time just... exploring. There's so much to find. We might even find what's left of Old Lumière, can you imagine?

[trebuchim]

[ Lune listens silently, quiet joy and relief filling her with Gustave's every word. Gently, she nudges him with her elbow, grinning all over again. ]

Hey. You seem in better spirits. And you said "when".

[ When they defeat the Paintress. As hotly as she'd argued with him before they'd found Maelle in that strange manor about their duty and necessity to make sacrifices when needed, she appreciates this more optimistic outlook all the same. It is certainly -- thankfully -- miles away from that shellshocked and defeated man she'd come across after the beach. ]

Less shooting, more studying, hm? I like that plan.

[ She teases, thinking back on the incident with that odd, giant Nevron guarding its flowers. She knows Gustave was still on edge then, having just found Maelle and reacting out of instinct to protect her, but regardless. This is the Gustave she knows, from Lumiere. She gives a quiet snort of laughter, adding, ]

Unless that was just the wine talking. [ The drink is certainly helping her with feeling a bit lighter. ]

[demainvient]

[ He lets her nudge push him gently, making him sway a little before he huffs a breath and looks over his shoulder at her, at her grin. Even now, even here, Lune's willing to embrace little glimpses of happiness wherever she finds them. It warms him more than the fire, more than the wine, some kernel of himself he'd tucked way deep down after the beach now opening under the sunshine of her smile and growing tentatively toward the light.

It's easier for him to try and draw it out in her than it is to find it in himself, so he just lets that little tendril find its own way while he rolls his eyes at her, exaggerated for effect, at the reminder of how he'd attacked the Nevron in the circle of flowers. ]

I think Sciel is rubbing off on me.

[ In better spirits is a moving target for them all, but he does feel... if not better, then a little less on the razor-edge of constant panic and despair. They found Maelle and now he can keep her safe — or try his best to keep her safe — and that soothes some of his terror.

He waves a hand at the wine bottle, shrugging easily. ]

But the wine is definitely helping.

[ He'd like to drink the whole bottle with her, to get drunk and tease her and let the stars swirl peacefully overhead, but even in this camp they're not really safe. After — if there's an after, when there's an after — they can have the rest then. To celebrate.

He shifts, lying all the way back onto the grass, wincing again at the way freshly-healed muscles and bone ache at even this easy movement, then relaxes once he's settled, hands loose on his belly. ]

Who knows? Maybe we'll even be able to sleep tonight.

[trebuchim]

[ It's good to see him smile and be playful with her, the warmth of that familiar camaraderie sending a sudden jolt through her. She'd missed this. They were both so preoccupied back in Lumière, so caught up in their work and research and every other thing; it's what happens when life has a timer on it. Some fall into complacency, while those too stubborn to lay down and die quietly find their ways to fight back against the inevitable. But perhaps they should have tried to make more time for things like these, too. Calm nights over shared drinks. She hopes they get the chance to rectify that, yet. ]

We could all probably try to learn from Sciel.

[ Lune hums, a little wryly, knowing that's not going to happen. Sciel has an enviable calm about her, an acceptance that whatever will be, will be. Either it works, or it doesn't. Lune has trouble with that kind of mindset, to just... wait for things to simply happen, and Gustave is the same.

She breathes a faint laugh at Gustave's prediction about sleeping, smiling to herself as she leans back on her palms against the grass, supporting her torso while crossing her ankles, the fire warming her bare toes. The stars are bright overhead, more preferable to gaze at than the glow of the Monolith's numbers. ]

Tristan would've already polished off that bottle all by himself. Absolutely insufferable, [ she says pensively out of the blue, wistful and fond both. It still hurts to think about them all, but this is how they keep past friends and family alive. ]

[demainvient]

[ It hurts to huff a laugh, in more than just the way where it tugs and tightens abused muscles and bones. One corner of his mouth twitches up, rueful, and flickers back again. ]

Yeah.

[ His expression softens as he looks up at the stars with her, breathing carefully into his side to test the soreness that will probably take all night to fade. It hasn't been that long since their last night in Lumiere, with Tristan and the others, all so excited for the expedition, bragging about how they'd be the ones to take down the Paintress and come home heroes. ]

Lucien tried to get me drunk the night before we left. Probably try to do the same now, in fact.

[ He owes Lucien his life, and he won't ever get a chance to repay that debt. But that, too, is the kind of leverage Lucien would have enjoyed holding over him with friendly teasing.

They'd all have died for one another. He knows that. It's only luck that death took Lucien that day and not him, too. ]

[trebuchim]

Yeah.

[ Lune agrees through a faint breath of laughter, though it's tinged by an undercurrent of sadness. It's still hard to understand what happened on that beach. All those lives snuffed out in an instant, friends and colleagues. And after... it was a small miracle Lune'd ended up somewhere close enough to Gustave. Close enough to find him when she had. If she hadn't... would they still be sitting together under the stars like this? Or would he have been another corpse for her to stumble into, slumped right there next to Catherine?

She inhales deeply and closes her eyes to banish the haunting image, trying not to go tumbling down that rabbit hole. She'd been seemingly holding it together herself then, on task and barking orders like a general, masking the fact that she was confused and frightened; by the massacre as well as the utter hopelessness written across Gustave's face. ]

Do you think... [ Her voice catches a little, and she pauses to clear her throat, cracking her eyes open once more to stare up at the stars wheeling overhead. ]

Could it be possible to find other survivors, out there? We were all flung to such different places, after-- maybe it's a small chance, but not impossible, surely.

[ They did not stop to take a headcount of the bodies, after all. ]

[demainvient]

[ What a terrible question to have to ask; what an awful thing it would be if she's right. If there are other survivors, are they injured with no one to heal them? Are they alone and lost? They can't all be as lucky as Sciel, found by a Gestral and brought to a place with life (of a sort) and somewhere to rest and recover. He exhales, a long resigned breath, and pillows his head on one folded arm. ]

Maybe not impossible, but the chances... they have to be minuscule. We didn't find anyone else at the tree. I still can't believe we found Sciel.

[ He rolls his head to look over at her, eyes dark, the firelight limning them both with a subtle glow. ]

I don't want to believe it, but I think we're all that's left of Expedition 33. It's up to us, now.

[trebuchim]

[ Lune sets her jaw for a moment. They didn't follow the protocol, though. Didn't wait for three days at the Indigo tree to regroup, Gustave's urgency to find Maelle overriding all else; and she knows she can't blame him for it. Nor would she ever have let him go solo, she thinks he knew it too. But he has a point, as much as she hates it. She exhales slowly, shoulders jumping a little. ]

No, you're probably right. And even if some made it, we... we can't veer off course to go look. We all knew the risks.

[ As ruthless as it sounds, that's the harsh reality they're forced to deal with. She nods as if to reaffirm her own conviction, meeting Gustave's eyes. ]

The plan doesn't change. We'll keep an eye out for any signs of survivors, but we continue, the four of us. We owe it to them.

[ She straightens, sitting up. This line of reasoning only brings her back to a point that's been driving her mad. Her hair sways as she glances back at Gustave, a frown knitting at her brow. ]

But then who could have written that message, at the tree? That's what I still don't understand. We wouldn't have even known to look for Maelle without it. It's like someone wanted us to find her. [ And she can't be sure that's reassuring, since it can't have been the man on the beach-- which means there's yet another unknown to contend with. ]

[demainvient]

[ Before the expedition, he hadn't really known Lune all that well... no matter what Sophie had implied. Or known.

They'd worked and trained together, of course, but Tristan had been the one who really knew her, who'd been close to her. They'd had separate, overlapping circles.

Now, he looks at her and realizes he can interpret her expression — that faint tightness to her jaw and the dissatisfied look in her eyes — with hardly any effort, anymore. They've been thrown together into this pressure cooker and come out as tightly entangled as he's ever been with anyone who wasn't Maelle or Sophie. She might known him better now than Emma ever has.

She'd be well within her rights to blame him, if they ever find evidence that there were other survivors, that they'd left them behind in his desperate need to find Maelle. (If that's the case, he'd never forgive himself, either, but neither could he have made any other choice. It weighs on his heart like a stone, only the first impossible choice theur were asked to make here.) ]

I don't know. Maybe it was the Curator.

[ He's far enough removed from his panic in that moment for curiosity to nudge him again, mulling it over as he stares up at the stars. Could it have been the Curator? It certainly couldn't have been Noco. Nothing about that message seemed anything like what a gestral would write. (It hadn't been challenging anyone to a fight, for one thing.)

There are too many unknowns, and it makes him uneasy, on edge. ]

Maybe if we find more expedition journals, we'll learn more about who else might be here, and who could have brought her to that manor and left us that note.

[trebuchim]

[ The look Lune gives him at the mention of the Curator is caught somewhere between amusement and a chiding don't be ridiculous, Gustave. Even if, she supposes, they've seen stranger things here. ]

Hm. He doesn't exactly strike me as the... literary type. But I guess we'll see sooner or later.

[ She has a feeling in her gut the mystery person will reveal themselves at some point; for good or ill, that remains to be seen. They would deal with one crisis at a time. The golden tattoos snaking over her skin gleam in the flickering fire as Lune curls one leg under herself, one hand settling on her knee. ]

I made a note of it in our journals, all the same. We can't leave any details out, in case-- well. [ The quick moue of her mouth is almost somewhat apologetic, even though it's just good sense to be prepared for every eventuality. She has faith in them, but they need to cover all bases for the worst case scenario. ] Should Expedition 32 need them.

[ Her reports are obsessively meticulous and exhaustive, of course. She doesn't have any other setting. Exhaling softly through her nose, Lune flicks a look toward Maelle, sleeping peacefully. For once, without nightmares. ]

I'm a little worried she can't remember who helped her, Gustave. Maybe it's the trauma, or maybe... [ Something else. Something more troubling. ]

[demainvient]

[ He meets that look with a wry lift of both eyebrows and one corner of his mouth, flickering up and down again in a kind of lazy facial shrug. No, it probably wasn't the Curator, but they have limited knowledge so far about the other inhabitants of this strange, dangerous place. He's only certain still that it wasn't the white-haired man from the beach; past that, all he has are guesses. Not even very good ones. ]

Good, [ he tells her, rather than wander down the conversational path of who might have saved Maelle, brought her to that strange manor, left the note for whoever else might come along. It's thorny and winding and as far as he can tell almost entirely circular until they find some new information. ]

I've been recording everything, too. Who knows, we may even find things we missed in the moment when we go back through and read our own notes.

[ Every expedition knows they're most likely simply paving the way for the next to come, no matter how hard they all hope that this time, that this expedition, will be the one. If the worst should happen and they fall here, Expedition 32 will need everything they've learned. Something in these journals and logs might be the key they need to break the cycle once and for all. Tomorrow comes.

He follows her glance, eyes sliding sidelong and down before lifting once again — not to the stars, this time, but to Lune's face as her quiet words touch on a fear he's hardly let himself look at, let alone study or question. ]

She's been through a massive shock. We all have.

[ Added before she can remind him of the very same fact. But Maelle has been quiet since they found her, troublingly so. He keeps finding himself hovering near her, worry gnawing at him. She seems all right, for the most part, but what if she isn't? What if Lune's right and there's some other element at play here, something darker and more harrowing even than the trauma of the beach? What if something he can't even see, let alone fight, has touched his sister and won't let go of her? ]

Short of trying to hypnotize her to get past whatever block might be there...

[ His lips press, frustrated; he shakes his head. ]

We need more information.

[trebuchim]

[ The counter argument is already forming on her tongue when Gustave neatly preempts it a second later -- how annoyingly well he's come to know her. A frown follows, and Lune pinches her lips, momentarily silenced. Neither hers nor Gustave's talents lie in the matters of the psyche. Honestly, Sciel might be the most in touch with things like that out of them all. But they are good at figuring out solutions to problems that appear insurmountable at first. ]

Then we'll watch out for any changes in Maelle, and seek out the answers. Whatever's tormenting her, intangible or otherwise, won't have her.

[ As simple as that. Though of course it's not simple at all when they still know so little, but in this case she's willing to bet on some good old-fashioned defiance, too. No use going into battle expecting to lose. Every day so far they've made some new discovery, learned more of this world. This problem ought to be no different. Her expression softens soon, though she hesitates for a beat before speaking up, meeting Gustave's gaze. ]

She's going to need you. Your support, the connection you share. I think that'll be key, if... if there really is something else going on than prolonged shock.

[ Maelle is in many ways so strong and wise beyond her years, but she is still a teenager, at the end of the day. And nobody shares a closer bond with her than Gustave. If something or someone is haunting her, that connection will no doubt play a role. ]

But we should probably not jump to the worst case scenario immediately. [ Just be prepared for one. Her smile is tired but amused, and she hums wryly, ] It has to be our turn to catch some good fortune for a change, one of these days.

[demainvient]

[ She's being haunted, he wants to say. But maybe that isn't quite right. It's more like she's being hunted. The man from the beach has fixated on her, for some unknown reason, and he's reaching out for her somewhere Gustave can't defend: her dreams.

Lune's advice is good, but it falls on unlistening ears just now, his thoughts caught and circling in frustrated musing. ]

Not jump to the worst case scenario? Lune—

[ He checks himself with an effort, glancing quickly over to where Maelle is still a motionless lump, asleep near Sciel. Still, he lowers his voice as he pushes back up to lean on one arm, turned toward her. It hurts. He ignores it, lifting his other hand to gesture as his words grow warm. ]

Even aside from her amnesia, we know what's after her. He is. The man from the beach. And I—

[ It catches him off-guard, swift as a cane hooking around his throat. The words stumble on themselves, and he has to take a moment to sort through them, find the ones he needs. ]

I, I— I don't know— I can't protect her from him. All of us together couldn't stand against him, not as we are. If he comes for her before we can collect enough chroma, grow stronger, better prepared, we'll die. All of us. This?

[ He waves his hand toward the wound she'd repaired and healed, shaking his head. ]

That Nevron was nothing compared to the things he had on the beach. And I was still too slow, I couldn't—

[ Distress creeps into his expression, closing his eyes tightly, furrowing his brow, his hand lifting toward his own head like he might be able to pluck the swirling thoughts from it. ]

It almost had her.

[trebuchim]

No.

[ It's quiet but cracks like the lightning bolts she rains down from the skies, white-hot and intense, and she shifts on the grass so she too faces Gustave more fully. Her face is a cast of defiant anger, fierce and beautiful in the warm glow of the fire. Not all of it is directed at Gustave, but rather at the situation as a whole. She understands where Gustave is coming from, each of his fears and concerns, but the shade of defeatism coloring his words rubs her the wrong way after everything they've already been through. ]

We don't know. We don't know if he's the only one involved. We don't have all the pieces, not yet. But we will find them. The Lumina Converter works! Every day it gives us a slightly bigger advantage. Every day we learn more, grow stronger.

[ She motions with one hand, flat palm slashing through the air. ] That day on the beach? We weren't prepared for anything like that. But now we know he's out there, and we know something of what he's capable of. What's the first step of problem solving? Identifying the issue. How is he doing what he does, how was he spared by the Gommage. We figure that, and the rest will follow.

[ She has to believe that in order to keep going. Otherwise, what's the point? ]

"If he comes"? What, you want to lay down and die because we might be outmatched? We all knew the risks, the specifics are irrelevant. Maelle knew them too. Now we have to find a way to deal with them, because that's what we do.

[ But the fight goes out of her as suddenly as it was ignited, and she seems to deflate, shoulders slumping a little as a heavy sigh gusts past her lips. Now, all that's left written across her expression is weary sympathy, her eyes beseeching him. Her voice is whisper-soft when she finally goes on. ]

Come on, Gustave. What other choice is there? Today was tough, but we continue. We have to. We can do this, all of us together. We can find a way to keep her safe.

[demainvient]

[ Lune's words come raining down on him, and he pushes up to sitting in order to lift both hands into the air between them, gesturing animatedly as he tries to get a word in edgewise. The end result leaves them both talking over each other, words fast and almost heated, and it's only knowing Maelle and Sciel are sleeping that keeps him from raising his voice. ]

That's what I'm saying, I'm saying we aren't strong enough, we're not— we have to— we're going to have to find a way— listen, the more Nevrons we take down, the stronger we'll become and then it won't be—

[ He's leaning toward her, spine a crunched parenthesis as he tries to meet her eyes before he lifts his hands higher into the air, frustrated. 'What, you want to lay down and die?' ]

No, I didn't say that, I told her to run! We should all run, until we're stronger, until we know— until we know— Lune—

[ It's the conversational equivalent of a rushing river meeting the sea at a spring tide, words rushing together until it's almost impossible to know who's saying what or even what's being said at all, until, finally: ]

I know! I know all that.

[ She makes her point with all the precision of her fighting ability, and he's left feeling as though he's been rocked by lightning strikes, the ground underneath him shifting and knocking him off his feet.

In the brief moment of silence, he takes a breath, tries to settle himself again. ]

I know that. I just—

[ His jaw shifts; he wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and gives a tiny, abortive shake of his head as his shoulders lower along with his voice. ]

You're right about all that. And I'm not saying we don't have a chance, or that we won't find a way to win through. I'm saying...

[ He looks up, over, lashes fluttering as he blinks a little too fast, trying to get a grip on himself. ]

I'm just... it was a bad day. That's all.

[trebuchim]

[ Their arguments weave and overlap, battering each other with them like tidal waves ram a hapless vessel caught on stormy seas. In spite of the chaotic nature of the exchange, they both keep up with one another perfectly. The eye of the storm brings calm, though.

It was a bad day. That's all.

It's such an absurd, almost blase understatement and somehow so Gustave that Lune fights a sudden, inappropriate huff of laughter. The small sound that escapes her is somewhere between that and a scoff, and she turns her head away for a moment-- fingers rubbing at her forehead, lips pressing together aggressively to shoo away chuckles. ]

There will be more of those.

[ How could there not be, after all. Once more in better control of herself, she turns back to face Gustave, her hand dropping onto her lap. During the tiff, they've shifted close enough to be able to catch even a minute tick of expression. Hers is attentive and serious, but not without understanding. She isn't looking to tear him down, they're a team. Friends, by now, she'd like to think. She just isn't going to go down these damn gloomy rabbit holes with him. ]

Hey. I'm not suggesting we take him head on-- of course we're going to run until we know how to defend ourselves against him. Until we're stronger. But you'll wreck yourself if you keep getting stuck on the bleakest possibility you can imagine.

[ A beat, followed by a tiniest hint of a smile. ] I was supposed to be the obsessive one, you know.

[demainvient]

[ The sudden diffusion of tension leaves him feeling strangely like he's about to lose his balance and falls straight into her. Maybe he really does need to relax and let the healing take its course.

He hangs his head with a flicker of a smile of his own, chewing momentarily on his cheek before he glances sidelong and up at her from beneath his brows, wry. ]

What, you think this—

[ He lifts his fabricated left hand, wiggling the fingers. ]

And this—

[ A shift to let the tiny glowing lamp of the Lumina Converter swing where it hangs against his back. ]

Are the products of someone who knows when to let something go?

[trebuchim]

[ Lune breathes out a quiet laugh at last, tilting her head and allowing her own smile to grow into a smirk as she indulges his observation with a suitably impressed nod. ] Yes, yes; your accomplishments are many. It's hardly polite to brag, Gustave.

[ Well, sort of indulges. She couldn't just let that humble brag go by. Neither can she ignore the fact that he looks just a little bit peaked now in spite of the ready banter, and she can also guess why. ]

Hey-- [ Her tattooed hand comes up to lightly brace against the slope of his shoulder as if that would keep him from tipping over, the other motioning toward the site of the healed injury. ] That isn't done healing yet. Don't undo my work or you'll really give me something to be mad about.

[demainvient]

[ His hand — the left one, artificial fingers limned with firelight that reflects off the gold of the pictos patterns that work through the material — lifts, reflexive, to cover hers where her fingers curve against his shoulder for a moment. He chuckles softly and shakes his head, rueful and amused in equal measure. ]

I wouldn't dare.

[ An obvious lie, considering the way they've both pushed and challenged and exasperated the other in the time they've been here. And yet it's truth, too. The respect he's always held for Lune has deepened, broadened; he knows her so much better, now, and she knows him. They're a team; they're on the same side, always.

His glance is still lowered; a wry press flickers around his lips a long moment before he finally looks over at her. ]

Sorry. I'm sorry. I just—

[ His shoulder lifts under her hand. ]

Maelle.

[ His sister, his baby sister, only sixteen years old. He knew he'd worry about her on this expedition, but losing her on the beach, thinking her gone, then living through the frantic need to find her and at last seeing her there in that room in the manor—

The fear is always there, lurking in his stomach. Reminding him that he'd already failed her once. ]

I know— I know. I'm not trying to make an excuse. It's not logical. But—

[ His mouth works a moment, his words gone again, and he gives her a helpless look. She understands, he knows. They all do. ]

You know?

[trebuchim]

[ Lune's fingers press gently into his shoulder when he starts with the apologies, squeezing softly in wordless absolution. While she may think Gustave does deserve to apologize for giving into another one of his silly spirals, this is something he never should be sorry for. ]

There's nothing logical about family.

[ It's murmured wryly, a little smile curving at the corner of her mouth. They both have ample examples of that fact, in good and bad. Her expression shifts, solemn understanding tinged with empathy. ]

Yeah, I know. I have a little sister, too.

[ Though it's not exactly the same, she knows. Stella isn't a teenager and even when they were closer as kids, Lune didn't have the kind of deep bond with her that Maelle and Gustave share. Back in Lumière, for the longest time she'd only known peripherally that they were a tight-knit group: Gustave, Emma and Maelle. When Emma was dating her brother Sol, Lune saw them all more often. And more often than not, Maelle always with Gustave. But it's not until now that she's realizing how deeply they really do love and care for one another. If she were to examine the realization closer, she'd feel a twinge of wistful envy at such healthy family dynamics somewhere in her heart, but she doesn't do that. Not now. Lune would still give her life for Stella, so she does understand Gustave's distress and worry. ]

You don't have to apologize for caring. It's a strength, not a weakness. Don't make it into one.

[ She makes a small moue, torn between disgust and amusement. ]

And don't tell anyone I said something that cheesy.

[demainvient]

[ His chuckle is more a gentle shake of his shoulders than actual sound; his fingers squeeze hers for a moment before he lets go. ]

No one would believe me even if I tried.

[ But maybe they should. He's seen for himself how deeply Lune feels things, though she might push it all down, back behind the wall that is her duty and her parents' legacy. She's not so distanced as even she might like to believe.

Maybe that's why she's the only one he feels he can fall apart around, even if she scolds him for it. With Maelle, with the rest of the team as they go through the day and set up their camps at night, he's cheerful and optimistic, tucking away his own fears to help quell those of all the others. But sometimes, in the middle of the night, after a day when he came a little too close to his own mortality for comfort...

But he finds a smile for her now, the way he has so many times before for Maelle and Sciel and even for Lune herself, when she's needed one. ]

But I'll always know. You might have to kill me yourself to keep your secret.

[trebuchim]

[ She can take his spirals and his doubts and fears when they get the better of him. She'll scold him, yes, but she'll always help him get over them. He doesn't have to worry about burdening her, either. Strangely, it doesn't annoy her like it might with someone else; she's glad he can trust her enough to level with her like that. Maybe one of these days, she might need him to return the favor.

Huffing at the comeback, Lune pushes him lightly in retaliation with the hand still on his shoulder; just a little shove, not enough to jolt his healing muscles-- much, at least. She pulls said hand away to point a finger at him. ]

Oh, don't tempt me. You know I could find a way to do it without anybody knowing it was me.

[ It's a good look on him, smiling. Especially out here. She likes seeing it; each time a little bit more than the last. It draws out her own smile, and she glances off to the side for a moment, shrugging one shoulder before looking back again-- a little procession that could almost be described as coy if that was something she ever did. ]

But maybe I like having you around, so. I guess I'll just have to trust you.

[demainvient]

[ He lets that little push sway him, though not far enough to tug and pull on his still-healing side.

Everything's a little easier, when he and Lune are easy with each other. They'd been through a pressure cooker, just the two of them against everything the continent could throw at them, for so long. He can hardly remember that there was a time when they didn't know each other as well as they do now, when his teases and jokes were for other expeditioners and only rarely for her. ]

Oh, I see. That's why you keep patching me back up, is it? Because you like having me around?

[ He remembers her coming around more often with Sol when he and Emma had been together, but even then, even with their time at the expedition academy, their relationship had been cordial but not deep; it was a function of proximity more than any real preference on either of their parts.

Sophie had known her better. But then, sometimes it seemed as though Sophie knew and loved everyone, and they her. ]

[trebuchim]

No, [ she draws the word out just a little, to convey with it an unspoken don't be foolish. ]

I do that because you're... somewhat useful in a fight. [ Somewhat. ] And otherwise.

[ Obviously! Another shrug, her lips curving into a grin around a chuckle at their back and forth. It isn't often that she's quite this playful, but she can have her moments when no immediate crisis is encroaching. It feels like she hasn't had a proper laugh in ages, but maybe she hasn't. There always seems to be something more important, something more urgent. Who has time to laugh when the world is slowly ending? ]

Besides, Maelle would make that sad puppy dog face if I didn't. There's no living with that. [ Unless one has a heart of stone, which Lune certainly doesn't. ]

[demainvient]

What?

[ He's laughing now, his earlier strain fading away. Talking with Lune is always a little like swimming along an unknown river: one moment he's fighting against foamy, choppy rapids and the next there's nothing but calm water. ]

Only somewhat?

[ He braces himself on his left hand and gestures with his right, fingers spreading wide and lifting into the air in short, round movements as he motions between himself and her. ]

Well, I'm glad you're here to pick up the slack. Not everyone can rain fire and ice down from the sky, you know. Some of us have to do what we can with sword and pistol.

[ It's an absolute oversimplification of what they both do, but he's happy to keep teasing her, now that she's started it. The truth is he's grateful every day that if he had to find only one other expeditioner, it was someone whose fighting style is so complementary to his own. It means they can watch out for one another's weak spots. ]

Oh, you wouldn't be able to withstand her sad puppy eyes. No one can. It's her superpower.