bakerstreet | minor injury meme.

[[Home and School/Work are out, because he has neither of those things. Anything else is great]]

[[HOLY SHIT it's you!! hey it's mala, aka the roxas from edingly -- do you want to do a thing?!]]

[[HOLY SHIT. YES]]

[[also were you made aware that edingly is back up and running? because it is]]

[[So far looking at 2 (broken bones) and 1 (stupidity), which, considering Roxas, I can totally imagine him making a dumb mistake and getting himself hurt, LMAO. And I guess outdoors setting unless we decide to adopt an Edingly thing?

Yeah, I heard about it re-opening when it was in the process of getting revamped. I'm wanting to just to stick to one game so far so u_u]]

[[Works for me. :) Setting's your call.

And that's a shame. But, you know... it's there if you want it :p]]

[Interested? Which role would you prefer for Faramir?]

[[Always! And either's fine, so if you have a preference, go for it. (Yes, I am unhelpful)]]

[Peace has come to the kingdom of Gondor, but there will always be small disputes to settle. The might and worth of Gondor's soldiers has been proven time and time again, yet small injuries do happen. As Queen, Arwen sees no reason not to make herself available for healing. While she may lack her father's power and knowledge when it comes to desperate cases, she can give comfort and aid those with lesser hurts.

News of Faramir's plight reaches her ears and she quickly makes her way to the infirmary, the fabric of her skirts caught in one hand to make her steps easier. Upon seeing him, she smiles encouragingly and moves to his side.]

I will heal you, Faramir. [Her voice is low and soothing as she searches for the source of his pain.]

[Faramir is one of those more prone to hurt, with how often he is still found fighting, driving the Orcs from Gondor's borders. In this case, he is far from in mortal peril, but the cut on his chest is deep and bloody]

[He pushes himself up on his elbows, painfully, as the Queen approaches]

My lady. Do not worry unduly - 'tis but a little thing.

[She gives her head a delicate shake, a small smile on her lips. Doesn't he realize that his bravery has already earned him all the healing she can give? It's the least she can do since she does not fight.]

Even the smallest of cuts can become infected. [Pain and misery surely follow - a fate she does not wish for him.] You must rest after I finish.

[After gthering the proper herbs from a nearby cabinet, she returns to him and presses the small leaves into the wound, her touch light and deft.]

Edited 2014-11-30 08:57 (UTC)

[Faramir winces at her touch nonetheless, although he doesn't let out a sound]

I had thought to report to the King ere long, my lady.

Your message can be relayed. [To his eyes, she might seem to glow. Her pale hand on his chest will grow warmer as she uses her light to heal him.]

Edited 2014-11-30 09:20 (UTC)

[No matter how often he sees that, it will always be strange to him. He relaxes a little, watching her]

...True enough. [It's not even an urgent report. He just doesn't like having nothing to do]

[Given the nature of the show, he's probably tending, or attempting too.]

[5000 years later, you still around?]

[Yeah. Have an Idea?]

[Today was more routine Titan extermination within Wall Maria. Several choke-points had already been established, where groups of Titans could be rounded up into close quarters and forced into traps where slaying them would be easy. But first, they had to be baited and herded in. And the only thing that motivates a Titan to move is the promise of a taste of human flesh.]

[It was dangerous work, if a little tedious. The trick was observing each Titan, getting an idea of their unique pattern of movement, and taking advantage of it by staying just out of reach. Only the most talented maneuverers should be involved, but able hands in the Corps are just as scarce as ever. And so, even Armin is part of capture squad.]

[Near the choke-point is a heavily wooded area for soldiers to take advantage of while maneuvering. When they enter, they abandon their horses, and reach for higher altitudes. About 6 Titans are at their flanks. One of them crawls on all fours-- a type they like to call a "spider"-- and Armin pays him extra attention. They tend to have unpredictable movements...]

[Case in point, when it leaps into the air the the world's biggest frog, just barely missing him with its grotesque laws. However, it latches onto one of his lines, and completely ruins his trajectory with a dizzying snap of whiplash. Now only flying on one line, Armin can't control his descent. He slams into a tree, his only harpoon detaches, and he falls like a rock into some scrub.]

[Eren's first thought, very first thought is rip that Titan apart. Then his brain catches up to his pounding heart enough to realize they don't know yet if Armin is dead. Check.

Gotta check it out and make sure.] Armin!

[Landing near the rock is maybe not the smartest of moves, but Eren isn't the smartest of people. He's not thinking about near-by Titans, the few others of the corps are close at hand.] Armin?

[Armin's ears are ringing, and stars are flashing behind his eyelids. He has no idea which end is up, where he is, or what he's supposed to be doing, but after a few long-suffering moments, he can make out someone calling his name. Eren. That's Eren's voice.]

Eren... [He groans back from the thicket of bushes he fell into. And thank goodness for that. He might have broken his neck or back if they didn't cushion his fall.]

[Wasn't there something happening right now? Was he in danger? He can't string two thoughts together, let alone assess whatever state his body might be in.]

Edited 2014-12-06 21:37 (UTC)

Just...[Don't move? There are Titans too close by.] Just stay still and let me get a look.

[Eren moves more into the bushes, being very careful to try and search his friend for anything obvious. Broken bones, primarily. While trying to remember what his father taught him.] Can you see my hand?

How many fingers? [He's got all five visible.]

Edited 2014-12-06 22:40 (UTC)

[Armin opens his eyes. Shadows are black-dark and light is painfully bright. He hisses, and squints to try and alleviate the ache in his head, and focus on Eren at the same time.]

...Five? [His tone of voice makes it obvious that he's guessing. One worry starts to press urgently into his consciousness.] Eren, Titans. There were Titans...

[Well, it's no good if he guessing and guessing right.] We've got to get somewhere a bit safer, but the rest of the squad are dealing with them.

[Eren reaches out to careful pick up his friend and go where? A rooftop? Up in the tree? Right now just away is good enough but Armin needs a place to rest. Where was the rest of the squad waiting for them to come back?]

[Their current base of operations is fairly close to the choke-point, with more hands ready in case of disaster. Eren is good at maneuvering; he should be able to get there on his own, even when burdened. Armin reaches up to hold him around the neck as well as he can. He feels a sharp pain in his leg, but bites his cheek to stifle any sound that might startle Eren.]

[Sadly being pressed against his back he can feel a flinch, before taking off the ground, wanting to get there as quickly as possible while trying not to injury Armin farther.

It doesn't take long before they land and a few other scouts show up to assess the damage before leaving Eren to look after Armin on his own, at least he has some medical supplies now.] Armin? What's wrong?

[Once he's laid down, and sure that danger is far away, Armin goes through a full body self-check. He's sure he has a concussion from his dizziness and the pounding behind his eyes, and that slows him down a little, but it's probably best that he takes this easy anyways.]

Give me a second.

[There are minor cuts and bruises all over his body, but that should be obvious enough to the naked eye. He has to check his vital functions. He rolls his neck and his shoulders without any pain, so his clavicle is fine. Bending his elbows and wiggling his fingers doesn't bother him either. He takes a deep breath, and his ribs protest, so he lets it out quickly-- probably a minor fracture or two there. Nothing you can really do about that. His back bends and twists without any pinching. It's when he gets to his left leg--]

Ah! Ah, shit, there's something...

[He tries to get up on his elbows, but his vision twists to the side. There's something wrong, but he can't tell like this.]

C-can you take off my harness? It's my leg.

Edited 2014-12-06 23:49 (UTC)

Yeah. [He can pretty much put his on and take it off in his sleep by now. Though he's mindful of the fact that Armin's hurt before undoing the harness and trying to pull it off as carefully as possible.]

Sorry. [He knows removing the boot is going to be hard, and probably hurt.]

Better?

[Armin gives a closed-mouth scream as Eren takes his boot off. The pain is stabbing sharp, and reduces only to an angry throb. It starts at his knee, and runs all the way down to the bottom of his foot. Trying to move his toes is agonizing.]

I've twisted it. [He strains around a lump in his throat.] Probably broken, from the knee down. Can you see anything?

It looks angry. Not twisted out of shape, so a clean break at least. [What had his dad said about this? Ah, he didn't go out too often.] If it's broken, I can check but it'll hurt.

I don't see any bleeding. Maybe there's a bit less of a chance of infection.

Yes. If the skin isn't broken, that's good-- we just have to worry about internal hemorrhaging. [That, and, well, he has a broken fucking leg. The 3DMG puts all of the pressure of forward movement on the soles of the feet, so this will put him out of commission for quite awhile.] Please, do what you have to. The quicker the better.

Alright, sorry in advance. [Because any kind of pressure if is going to hurt, but he wants to know. So he as carefully has he can runs his hands over the leg, feeling for the break. Probably not the best way to go about it, but how else do they check?

Internal bleeding...ugh, he sometimes wishes his friends could heal as well as he can.] I don't think it needs setting at least...I hope not.

[Armin bites the heel of his hand to try and muffle his cries of pain. The tissue is inflamed, and there is a fracture, although it's not offset.]

Alright... [He manages to speak after several desperate gulps of air.] Thank you. I'm sorry-- for slipping up in the middle of an operation.

Heh, don't worry about that. I screw up more then you do. [He sits up a bit relieved that it's not going to need setting.]

At least all we have to do is cast it, though it's going to put you out of action for a while. I'd thought you died for a minute. I almost rampaged.

I thought I was dead, when that Titan jumped. I heard its teeth snap shut. If it's timing were just a second more accurate...

[He visibly shudders.]

This never gets easier.

We're alive for another day. [He's going to start wrapping that leg.]

Yeah, nothing quite like being in a Titan's mouth. [Or their stomachs. Shoving that memory away.]

Does anything else hurt?

[Armin nods, and looks away. That's an experience they both share: sliding down a Titan's throat. Although the memory is hard for him to purposefully recall, as if his mind forced itself to forget in order to keep moving forward. It only comes back to him in nightmares and moments of incredible stress.]

I think I may have broken a rib or two on the same side. It just feels like a crack though.

Not much to do about that anyway. Your head, ok? You skulls not quite as thick as mine.

[He's not sure which nightmare he prefers, that one or one of the dozen others that plague him every night.]

I'm probably concussed. [He smiles just a little at Eren's jab at himself.] I was guessing when you asked me how many fingers you were holding up. Was I right?

Yeah. [more concerning at the time, though, all things told it shouldn't have surprising.] I was pretty surprised but there were more pressing things to do.

Edited 2014-12-07 01:50 (UTC)

I saw a lot, and five is the maximum, so...

How do you think like that with a concussion? [Eren will always have great respect for Armin's thinking skills.]

I guess I can still grasp the barest of threads logic when I'm running on fumes.

Better then me. Not that I get concussed anymore.

Mmm. Logic or not, I'm still wishing I had your ability to heal right now... I'm going to regret all of this terribly in the morning.

Well, your alive. That's the important part.

Yeah, it'd be nice wouldn't it? If everyone could heal a lot faster. I don't know how we'd do it though.

...Do you find that it's worth it? Being a Shifter.

Yes.

If I can take care of the Titan, and take down those walls. Then yes, it's worth it.

Edited 2014-12-07 02:53 (UTC)

I know that you have the resolve. But the fact that you have to have the resolve to begin with...

...[Eren's not sure what to say. Life's a sad mess here, but it is life, their lives and they should fight for them with everything they've got.]

...I'm sorry. I've been hit too hard in the head, and I'm saying strange things.

No, it's OK. Our lives aren't great, but there's not a lot we can do about that without making them worse. [Either by not doing anything or by fighting monsters. It's a no win situation either way.]

That's one way to put it. The only path we have to take is the one leading forward, isn't it?

Yeah, we aren't going to get anything we aren't willing to fight for.

[He lets a breath out of the bottom of his lungs.]

We're going to as hardened as the Captain and the Commander before any of this comes close to ending.

Is that really so bad? If we can accomplish our goals? [Eren's not certain it'll happen anyway, but he's already proved killing people isn't hard for him with the right motivations.]

Eren, they're tired old men. And I don't mean that as an insult, I mean that quite literally. I don't envy them in the least.

I don't think their tired, if that were the case they'd have given up. Weighed down by the people who've died maybe but so are we. We've all lost people.

[Do you think you could handle that? Losing someone else? Armin wants to ask. But he bites his tongue. He nearly died today, over routine, and Eren even admitted to being close to a rampage. He can't test him like this.]

[Armin closes his eyes.]

Mmm... I'm tired enough right now, to be honest.

It's been a long day. [Learning to keep his temper is going to take a bit longer, for Eren.]

At least the mission went well prior to this, if a few broken bones are the extent of the damage.

Yes, the Titan extermination has gone more or less without incident... [It would take some time, but they were making progress.] Could you help me to a bed? I shouldn't take up room in the medbay if I don't have to.

Yeah, if you think that's ok. [He's not so sure about the concussion, but better he help then let Armin d it himself.

Reaching to put on of Armin's arms over his shoulder.] Uh, did you want to try and walk or should I just try to carry you?

I don't think I should put any pressure on this. [He reaches around with his other arm too, grasping Eren's shoulders tight.] And just sitting up is making me dizzy...

[Oh, please don't let him drop Armin.] Alright.

[And trying to pick his friend up and find an empty bed to lay him on. Probably would have been wise to go look for that first, but eh, Eren's not a far thinker.]

[He has faith in you, Eren! That, and he knows he's probably the least substantial man in the Corps. He can't be that heavy.]

[Even having his leg jostled a little hurts, but it's bearable. He tries to keep his eye's open for an empty room as well.]

[Armin is pretty small, not that he'd say it to his friend.

He's trying to be careful, really he is, before he finds a room to set his friend down in.] Are you sure nothing else is wrong?

[Being laid in a real bed is wonderful, especially the pillow. Armin shifts himself to get nice and cozy and sighs.]

No, I don't think so. Thank you for everything.

No problem, you know, you and mikasa have been stuck by my bedside often enough.

Mmm. I have to admit, even knowing what you're capable of, it's still scary dragging you back from the battlefield as mangled as you usually end up.

[By the time he wakes up he's fine, exhausted but fine.]...Yeah, I forget myself sometimes.

It's alright. You do what you do because you have to. And you're getting better at controlling your Titan.

Am I? [He'd thought it was pretty poor given what happened in Stohess.]

Well, if we compare Trost to how you're able to function today, you've made leaps and bounds.

I imagine Shifters like Annie have been training all their lives, to gain that precise control. Unfortunately, you haven't been given that opportunity... But you still manage to match up when the situation becomes desperate.

I just lose my mind and they don't know what to do. [It's dangerous, but he appreciates he might actually be getting places.]

You certainly have a grasp on the element of surprise...

Haha. [That's one way to put it, certainly.]

[Armin closes his eyes.]

As long as people continue to underestimate you, we'll have an advantage.

Reiner and Annie probably won't now. They know I'm a quick learner and they taught me to fight.

And that was their downfall, wasn't it? They had cared for us in a previous life.

[The memory of Annie still haunts him. I'm not a good person to you anymore...]

...I still can't figure out what their motivations were, but I don't think we'll be seeing them again anytime soon.

It doesn't matter, they want to wipe out humanity, their enemies now.

[Even if he still wishes that it were different, and it hurts to think about them doing that. Wanting that.]

I'm not sure if that was their goal, but it was definitely what they were accomplishing. You're right.

What else could destroying the walls be? A bunch of people died, lost everything!

[As much as he wants to be outside of them he's not dumb enough to not see the point of them.]

There might have been some other point to their infiltration. Something they were trying to gain. As terrible as the thought is, destroying humanity is somewhat pointless to someone as powerful as a Titan Shifter... We're already nothing but cockroaches beneath their heels.

What could that be? We still kill Titans. It's not impossible. Titan Shifter's are only human, they can die too.

I don't know. But the hard truth is, even our most powerful, concentrated efforts have yet to kill a single Titan Shifter. And I doubt their numbers are few.

You think there are more outside of Annie and them? [Eren's not 100% certain, it could be. That's kind of scary and interesting.]

We'll have to keep trying.

It would follow. Someone had to raise and train them; I imagine it would be some of their own kind.

....Then how can I do it? Shift that is. How did this power wind up inside the walls?

...You have trouble with your memory. The answers most likely lie somewhere you can't recall.

[Sighs.] Yeah. I guess we'll have to wait.

Don't let it worry you too much. Things come to you. We'll know someday.

There's always the basement.

Yes. Once we finish this clean-up and start repopulating Maria's territory, Shiganshina is next.

Ah, I hope so. I want to know.

We all do. It's still a priority to the Recon Corps.

It's taking a long time to get there.

[Armin chuckles, as much of a laugh as his cracked ribs will allow.]

Any amount of time is too long to you, Eren.

Be that as it stands.

We'll get there. The route has been circuitous, but we will.

Circuitous?....

Long and winding.

AH, yeah, it's definitely been anything but a straight shot.

[ Either injured or caring for the injured is fine. ]

[ooc: Probably tending as he can heal almost instantly, though he could be on the retrovirus and doesn't heal as a quickly so he can be the one injured instead if you want. Cast mates only, PM me with any questions!]

[probably ~~definitely~~ the healer.]

[Celebrían has always fancied herself a good rider, good with horses and animals in general. The last thing she expected was for something to spook her horse during one of her rides and to throw her. She'd hit the ground hard, harder than she thought she would.

At least she has her husband to take care of her. She's unsteady on her feet and her head hurts, making her not want to move very far.]

[Simple curiosity hasn't served her well. The blades of Elvish weapons are indeed sharp - something she never doubted - and yet that fact has been cemented in her mind by the blood pooling on her palm. Carefully she wraps her hand with a piece of cloth and leaves the Weaponry to seek the aid of her Father.

Like all Elves, she moves with an almost silent grace, but she does not doubt that he can sense her approach.]

Ada, I was foolish.

[ Either role. ]

[ more likely the wounded than the healer, but either side works fine! ]

[More likely the one getting hurt, but seeing her in the other role would be funny.]

(( open to playing either side! ))

[Either or, although he's got a condition...]

[more than likely healer, but either's a-ok! playing from ubw route.]

(Probably got hurt, but he's not called Doctor for nothing. Either is cool.)

[Kazran and the Doctor has been having a snowball fight in the snow, outside of the TARDIS, when he had slipped on a patch of ice. Not Kazran, but the Doctor. His long legs had gone under him and he had landed in an awkward position. That's the way Kazran had seen it anyway.

He immediately dropped his snowball and ran over to see if his friend was alright.]

Doctor? Are you alright?

(He had not been expecting that. He was usually so good at keeping his balance. Actually, no, that was a lie, this regeneration was extremely clumsy, but walking, at least, he could usually handle. How do you screw up walking?

Ice. Ice is how you screw up walking.

He was dazed, slightly, but more from the surprise than anything. His wrist, on the other hand, burned at the point where he'd landed on it.)

F-Fine, fine! I'm fine!

(Not really, but no need to worry anyone. Slowly, he sat up using exclusively his good arm.)

[Kazran knew that he was lying. He saw how the other man went down on the ice and hit his wrist, whilst trying to maintain his balance. Also, he used one arm to get up.]

No, you're not. Doctor, you hit your arm on the ice hard. I saw it just now. You don't have to act all heroic in front of me. I've known you ever since I was twelve and I know you're lying. [Kazran will now be sliding an arm under the Doctor's good arm, to support his weight.]

How's the wrist?

Edited 2014-12-01 17:37 (UTC)

(Between this one and Amy, he couldn't get away with anything, could he?

He accepted the help, though, and sighed.)

...Might be a bit sprained, a little. Or broken. Not sure. It's fine, though.

You should be more careful, Doctor. The ice can be dangerous at this time of year. [He offered his friend a sigh and helped him walk to the nearest wall.]

Are you a doctor of medicine also? Can you heal yourself or should we go back to your TARDIS?

(The Doctor tested his wrist, and hissed at the movement.) TARDIS is probably better.

Yes, you're probably right. [Kazran offered to help the Doctor walk to the TARDIS, to avoid him falling over again over the snow. They reached the double doors and Kazran pushed the door open for his friend.]

In you go and try not to fall this time. [He was teasing. After all, him and the Doctor were accident prone together.]

It's my wrist, not my leg. (He pouted. He knows your teasing, but his wrist hurts, and it makes it harder to take.

He wandered inside and up the steps to the console, shutting the doors from the switch instead of waiting for Kazran to do it manually. He sighed.)

Med bay is this way.

I know. I'm just trying to help you. [He helped the Doctor walk to the med bay and aided him in sitting on one of the many beds.]

It's amazing just how many rooms you have here, Doctor. So, do you have an instrument to fix your wrist? Want me to find it?

(The Doctor adjusted his position on the bed, pointing at one of the many drawers.)

Should be a thing that looks like a blood pressure detector in there. Fetch it for me, will you?

Doctor, I- [He felt awkward, as he didn't know what a blood pressure detector looked like. He was from a different world and a different time.]

-I am unsure of what you mean. The shape. Tell me the shape and I shall get it for you.

Ah... It looks a bit like a gun, but not really, and it's got this sort of cloth bit at the end...

(Forgive him, he's actually in quite a lot of pain right now. A human would probably be screaming incoherantly.)

Right. [He could tell that the Doctor was in a lot of pain by the look on his face. Kazran acted quickly, as he searched for the machine the Doctor wanted. He found it and came back quickly, passing it to the Doctor's good hand.]

Are you going to be alright?

Yes, fine. Right as rain. If rain can be right.

(The Doctor gratefully took the machine and wrapped the cloth bit around his tender wrist and turned it on.)

I don't think you're right as rain with an injure like that. [Kazran offered the Doctor a comforting smile and then watched as he used the machine.]

What does the machine do exactly?

(Probably the hurt one. Baymax exists for a reason.)

Edited 2014-11-30 08:14 (UTC)

How in the world does Hiro manage to not only hide Baymax from his aunt but also Laon? It is a mystery that none will ever figure out. How this is on of those moment which Hiro probably will regret for the rest of his life for getting into the pact with Laon in helping finding her tails.

Laon has found a perch on his headboard, staring down at him with her mismatched eyes, whining.... A lot of whining and not the quiet type either.

"Get up.... I am hungry! I wanna eat!"

Hiro was exhausted. Between superhero work, upgrading Baymax, schoolwork, helping Aunt Cass in the cafe, and now helping Laon... It left him with little time left over for essentials, like bathing and sleeping. He usually managed to grab a bite to eat as he rushed around, but he had been getting home in the wee hours of the morning, taking a quick shower, and passing out, only to wake up early and do it all again.

And now Laon was whining at him. It was only 6 am! Why couldn't the little she-demon get her own food for once?

Reluctantly, Hiro sat up and rubbed at his eyes.

"You're always hungry."

Well the last time she got food for herself, she left a rather large trail of blood and was covered in blood which caused mass panic in the household.

"I can't help it though, Hiro...." And then she grins. "You can always feed me some of your chii or blood and it may state my hunger."

Hiro sighed and moved the covers.

"No, I'll get you something..."

Laon couldn't help but to perk up and start wagging the two tails they have so far recovered. And in the best bedside manner possible, she leaps off the headboard, not caring about landing on Hiro or not and then landing on the floor.

"Hurry! Hurry and feed me!"

Hiro groaned again and rolled out of bed, heading for the stairs, hoping Aunt Cass wasn't up yet. Laon is all over the place, making her hard to keep track of to his sleepy brain, and he tries not to step on her as he heads down the stairs.

Unfortunately, his depth perception is shot. About halfway down the stairs, he steps down on what he thought was the next step, only for his foot to overshoot and miss completely.

He lets out a definitely-manly squeak and crashes down the last five stairs, bashing his head against the rail on the way down.

Eh? What was that sound? Laon perks up at the sound of crashing and trots down to the source of the sound, seeing Hiro in the most manly position.

"Food?" Okay, she is going to his side and...... Poke where he bashed his head against the rail. "Food is not there, Hiro."

Much concern. So much.

Hiro doesn't move, only groans when Laon pokes him.

Upstairs, the sound of inflating can be heard.

Laon perks up at the sound of inflating and no... No no no no no.... She doesn't like that thing. It will not come! She will stop that thing from coming!

"Hurry and get up! Before the thing comes!" And hurry Hiro before she bites you.

"Nnnn..."

Hiro shifts slightly, but doesn't get far before his head feels like it's split in two, and he's forced to relax before he makes it worse.

Upstairs, there's a sound of a robotic voice, and the squeaking of vinyl feet taking steps.

"Hiro?"

Okay, he is not getting up fast enough as Laon goes to bite at his arm. "Hurry and get up! The weird thing is coming!"

She doesn't like Baymax, it doesn't let her try and eat people. So now she is gonna arch her back like a cat and start hissing at the source of the robotic voice.

Hiro yelped at the bite, which adds another mark to his already blossoming bruises. He opened his eyes blearily and attempted to look around without moving his head.

Baymax comes around the corner, and looked down the stairs at the hissing demon and his limp friend.

"Hiro!"

Baymax waddled down the stairs, making his way toward the two. He's mostly ignoring Laon, as his scanners say Hiro is hurt and she is not.

Laon continues to hiss at Baymax and finally goes to try and pick up Hiro by his neck with her teeth. She still is learning how humans work but for now, she is gonna try and flee with Hiro's neck in her mouth now.

"Call it back! Make it go away!"

Hiro yelped again, this time finding the strength to to weakly reach up and bat Laon away.

Baymax continued toward the pair. "Laon. Please allow me to treat Hiro. My scanners say he is injured."

She frowns and does let go of Hiro now that Baymax has them in his sights. She will just sink into the floor and glower at the pair.

"He is still making sounds and can still move. He just need to lick them. I was hungry first."

"Licking wounds is not the proper treatment," Baymax answers. The robot approaches Hiro, and looks down at him.

"Scan complete. It is indicated that Hiro has multiple bruises and skin abrasions, and is possibly concussed. He has also acquired several bite wounds."

If robots could give pointed stares, Laon would be getting one right now. Instead, Baymax gently reaches down to pick Hiro up, and move him to the nearby couch. Hiro moans at the movement, but otherwise is silent and doesn't struggle.

"It works just fine with me." Then again, she doesn't get hurt by like 99% of the enemies they have encountered. "Besides he won't die with me around, as long as his pact with me is fulfilled."

The thing is giving her a dirty look isn't it? She knew that thing can't be trusted. Her stomach begins to growl loudly and she whines even loudly. "Hiro~~! I am hungry! Hurry up and feed me!" She moves out of the floor to follow the duo and once Baymax sets Hiro on the couch, she reaches over to try and slap him awake if Baymax doesn't stop her first.

Baymax does catch her, just in time.

"Hiro requires rest. Please, do not hit him."

Hiro groans and opens one eye, immediately closing it again. This room is much too bright.

"Baymax, just go get her one of the steaks in the freezer. She won't stop until someone feeds her."

Mis-matched eyes looks up at Baymax when he grabs her hand. "But I seen on the tv that hitting wakes up people."

She blinks again and stares at Hiro when he speaks. "He's better now." Though maybe she can go hunting again. Yes, the much better option in her book! Except it is not nighttime and she won't be able to use her marble to better hunt.

"I can hunt as well so you won't have to leave Hiro's side."

"No hunting," Hiro said quietly. "Last time, you came home covered in blood and gave Aunt Cass a heart attack."

"Hiro, it seems that you are concussed," Baymax added. The robot gently laid a hand on Hiro's forehead, and the hand glowed blue. "I am equipped with cooling pads in my hands."

Hiro sighed and shut his eyes. He took a second to put together a sentence in his head. He still felt woozy, and tired.

"Thanks, Baymax. Laon, sometimes what you see on TV is, uh, wrong."

"But I was able to eat till I was full." And then some but she goes to pout a little. "Not my fault that there were plenty of hwan out that night." No faaaaair, she wants to eat and the fresh blood was yummy and totally good to eat as well as the flesh.

She stops her pouting at the sight of the blue glow and attempts to bap at it with her hand. She stops her attempts at Hiro's and just looks at him in shock. "But... But the tv never lies! The tv is not a lair!"

"You'd be surprised," he breathes. The cold felt really nice on his pounding head.

"Hiro. I would advise you not to sleep, for the next twenty-four hours."

Hiro groaned. He was already exhausted, and he had class in an hour.

"All lairs should be destroyed."

She blinks as she watches him and stares at Baymax. "I can help keep him awake."

Baymax tilted his head sideways. "How so?"

"By biting him." Look at her! She looks so proud of herself!

"Please do not bite my patient. He is injured."

"I agree with Baymax. No biting."

"But it will keep him awake and it will feed me as well."

Since all of you are so against her hunting.

"Biting is not conducive to recovery."

Hiro grabbed the throw pillow he was laying on and pressed it over his face.

"You two are giving me a headache."

"But it will keep him awake."

She opens her mouth to make a comment about his headache when something better catches her nose..... Something better and nice smelling. Her tails started to wag and her stomach growls quite loudly.

Maybe while Hiro is hiding his face she can go and sneak out to hunt this delicious smelling scent. Don't mind her Baymax and please ignore that look on her face. It is nothing, really it is~

Hiro sighs into the pillow. "Baymax, just... get Laon something to eat."

Hiro only wants to lie here until the pounding in his head stops, but he knows he can't.

Good so far none of them has noticed... Maybe she can get away and hunt now. She continues to sneak towards the window, hoping that none of them will notice. The strange white thing is too busy paying attention to Hiro to notice her.

She is hungry and needs food and right now not caring where the food comes from.

"Your friend is trying to go somewhere," Baymax remarks.

"Wha-?"

Hiro rips the pillow off and sits up. "Laon! You- argggg..."

He regrets sitting up, because now his head is pounding twice as hard and he feels like he's going to throw up. Gently, Baymax helps him lay back down and replaces the cold hand on his forehead.

Laon pauses at the window when she hears Hiro call her name. She looks back at him and just grins. She will see you later after she finishes hunting and that way you won't have to feed her so it's a win-win right! Just ignore any blood that may or may not be on her when she gets back.

"Damn it..." Hiro curses under his breath. He feels a little guilty, as Tadashi would've scolded him for language, but he can tell him that himself when he gets back. As long as he doesn't lose Laon.

Although he can't exactly go chasing her now, can he? His head is still killing him. He doesn't even know if he has the energy to go to class.

He can try if he wants but it would probably be wise to use Baymax's flight to help with the chase.

45 mins has past before she pops her again at the window and slowly slinks her way back into the room and yup.... Covered in blood, but completely full and satisfied, even letting out a small burp. She goes to stretch a little before flopping to her back and closing her eyes. Man that was good eats.

Hiro has decided to save his sanity and not ask. The pounding in his head has subsided a little, but he's still not sure if he can move without a re-lapse. He wants to sleep, but Baymax won't let him, and the TV would just make it worse.

"Please just tell me you didn't hurt any humans?"

Laon reopens her eyes and goes to stare up at Hiro. She blinks at the question and ponders a bit.

"Just hwan. Did receive permission to eat humans yet." But hwan possessing humans, yup in that case the human was eaten as well.

Whatever. He was not in a state to deal with this right now.

"Baymax, can you turn off the light in this room, please?"

Laon goes to hop unto the bed when Hiro gave the order in her mind to turn off the lights. Her spot, come and get her balloon man. At once she goes to pull out her claws to start licking them clean. Believe it or not, she is just a little vain of her claws and tails. Which is why despite being covered in blood, her tails are still sparkly clean.

"Wouldn't you go to sleep with the lights off?"

Edited 2014-12-05 04:30 (UTC)

"I don't know. But the light's hurting my eyes," Hiro says quietly.

He would legit give anything to not be in this much pain.

"Hiro, would you like some pain medication?" Baymax asks.

"Yes. Yes, please, I would like that so much."

Laon blinks and just moves close enough to stare at his face. "How can a bump on the head cause your eyes to go bad?" Normally by now she would start bugging him to play with her but instead she will lean over and just lick his head.

Hey if licking her own injuries worked maybe licking where he bumped it would help.

Hiro throws back the pill Baymax gives him without water (he doesn't know if he'd be able to keep it down), and lays back, closing his eyes.

"My eyes aren't bad, Laon. It's just... bright."

He can get so annoyed with her, but it's obvious she cares. He appreciates it, really. And it'll be worth it in the end.

[ Can do either role! ]

[Want to deal with an injured Varric?]

[ Oh you bet I do!!! ]

[Varric hadn't been able to lose that apostate's focus. Usually, being a long-range fighter and a rogue meant he could just-- drop a smoke flask and jet the hell out of there. Buuuut he wasn't always so lucky, and the more he was forced to run around outside with the Inquisitor and her group, the more he realized he really hated the outdoors.

He knew that before, and complained loudly, but apparently not loudly enough. He hated going outside with passion only an agoraphobic introvert could match. It was hot and uncomfortable, or it was cold or uncomfortable, and it was always full of things that wanted to kill him. Just for existing! It was uncalled for.

He crouches beside the tranquil pond, hoping to get a good look at his injuries before asking someone else for help. He's had enough of mages today, possibly forever, even if there's no manic-depressive Anders in the current roster. He sets Bianca aside and strips off his jacket, then has to go through the effort of unbuttoning his tunic. He winces at the movement.]

Mmph. That's not going to wash out...

[His chest and clothes have been burned all across his right shoulder.]

Ah, shit.

Edited (oops i can read) 2014-11-30 09:53 (UTC)

[ It only took a short while for it to become second nature. The fighting still sometimes takes her by surprise, but after? After, it's the most natural thing in the world to double-check with everyone. To make sure they're okay.

The Herald of Andraste never wants people to die on her account. No matter how unrealistic that expectation is.

She knows Varric took it hard that last fight. For some reason one of the apostates refused to be distracted by Cassandra's fearful shouts and slashing blade, and her own barriers were dispelled all too quickly. So she makes it a point to track him down. ]

How bad?

[Varric hunches his shoulders when he hears Trevelyan coming up behind him. That's a mistake-- he sucks in a breath through his teeth.]

My aim's gone to shit. Well, everything's gone to shit, but specifically, at this moment, my right shoulder is shit.

[Still, he tries to pull some humor out of the situation.]

I lost about half of my chest hair, too. Now all the women will be flocking to Curly instead. They're wasted on him, you know. He won't even notice.

Edited 2014-11-30 10:16 (UTC)

[ She's already kneeling to dig through her pack - she tries to keep a few burn poultices on her all the time, especially after that dragon in the Hinterlands.

Her lips twitch faintly at his joke as she searches. ] I don't know. Commander Cullen might be safe - I overheard some of the serving girls at the tavern discussing Iron Bull's, ah, assets.

And I'm sure when it grows back it'll be more impressive than ever. Here we are.

[That gets a chuckle out of him.] Heh heh. Assets. [Can you believe he's nearly 40?

He looks over at her when she finds a poultice. Oh, good, she isn't about to try magicking him to health or anything. It's not that he doesn't trust the Inquisitor, he's just had enough of magic for the day.]

You are a saint. Er... a herald. You know what I mean.

[He scritches idly at the uninjured half of his bare chest.]

Next time, I'll try to take out the apostate first.

[ She chuckles a little. ] Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, anyway.

[ But her smile fades quickly. ] He dispelled my barrier. I should've been paying closer attention. [ It's the most basic strategy - lay down the barrier spell, then keep an eye on everyone to make sure it doesn't go haywire or get counteracted, especially when there are enemy mages on the field. ]

Not every spot of bad luck is your fault, Inquisitor.

[He smiles at her. Even if this burn hurts like hell, he knows how hard she's trying. He can't imagine how hard her life is, he's so wrapped up in his own-- but he knows that she'll make a great hero in a story. Selfless, compassionate, and with a dash of danger... He can already see the last battle unfolding in his mind, the way his audience's eyes light up when the Inquisitor manages to freeze a demon solid and then shatter it to pieces.]

Just... apply that poultice and we'll call it good.

I know.

[ She's never been much of a medic, but a poultice is a poultice. She's picked up the ability to apply them fast in the field over the last few months.

Not everything may be under her control - but the way she sees it, if she can't even keep safe her companions, what good would she be as Inquisitor to decide the fate of so many strangers? ]

We'll make camp soon - we'll lose the light in a few hours, anyway. How's that?

A hot meal would be nice. And some decent ale for once. [He sighs heavily, a low noise that is nonetheless warmer for having company.] And while we're at it, maybe a cute dwarven serving girl or three...

Oh, right. The burns.

[He rolls his shoulders experimentally.]

Looks like I'll live.

[ She snorts again. She can't be too worried as long as he's still cracking jokes. ]

We'll be back at Skyhold soon. But if you want more dwarven serving girls, you'll have to find them yourself. I don't know any personally.

That's the hardest part: actually finding them. Dwarves on the surface tend to be of two types: the kind that tries to swindle you, or the kind that tries to kill you. [A pause.] The Merchant's Guild is both.

[He gingerly puts his tunic back on, taking extra care with the sleeves.]

Point is, you're more likely to find a pair of matching socks or a nice templar than a dwarven serving girl.

How terribly reassuring. [ There are already plenty of people trying to kill her. At least this dwarf is amiable enough. ]

Then again, we already have one of those things. Sort of. [ Cullen is a former Templar, sure, but that's a technicality. He's definitely nice. To her. ]

[It's not unusual to find Cullen standing by his desk, one hand placed on it in thought, but today he's using it to take some of his weight. His armor has been shed off some time before, dropped into a corner, and his free hand presses against his side.

It's been a while since he's felt such searing pain on his skin.

When he pulls his hand back out, his dark glove is glistening with red. It gets an annoyed grunt of out him. Fine, fine, time to head to the infirmary.

Just to get there without word getting back to her.]

[ It's usually the other way around.

She is the one who leaves, who goes into danger, who sees the fighting and bloodshed. Cullen stays behind, his job is at Skyhold. He waits for her.

Now, she's learning what that must be like. When she hears the horn announcing the arrival, it's all she can do to stop herself from bolting out of the keep like a silly, overexcited child.

She waits, gives it half an hour to finish up her meeting with Josephine and Leliana, then makes her way out, across the bailey, up the familiar stairs, trying not to look too breathless as she strides into the tower he's claimed as his office.

And then she sees him, looking pale, and the red. ]

Cullen. Maker's breath, you're hurt! [ He probably should've gone straight to the infirmary. ]

Uh--

[Eloquent as usual, and he looks like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He stupidly holds his bloody hand before him, not knowing what to do with it now that she's come and thrown off his plan to sneak out with his most confident "I'm busy, no time to talk" strides straight to the infirmary.

Busted.]

It's.... not as bad as it looks. Don't worry.

[Maybe it wasn't that bad forty-five minutes ago.]

[ He's at least conscious, and standing on his own two feet, but that doesn't stop the pang of fear that shoots through her like lightning as she moves to his side. ]

Why aren't you at the infirmary? Come on, the healers need to look at you.

[ She has questions - what happened? How deep? How long has he been walking around injured? But it's more important to get him in the care of a healer - which she isn't, only knows enough to be able to find elfroot when she needs it. She grips his elbow, ready to help him out and down the stairs if necessary, not even caring how it would look. ]

I'm fine. The healers have their hands full with men worse off than me. Not to mention the newest refugees.

[He presses that bloody hand against his side. Might as well get his clothing coated on both inside and outside.]

[ She gives his elbow an impatient sort of squeeze. ] And if the Commander of the Inquisition's army gets an infection? What will we do then? Come on. [ She's not leaving without him. She's got that stubborn set to her jaw. ]

I will go in my own time. [Annoyance creeps into his voice, gruff and rarely used with her, but the wound does hurt. Considerably.

He shoos her away. Or tries to, at least, teeth grit.]

[ Oh no. Nope. No way does he get to use that tone of voice with her. Not now of all times. Her spine straightens, her frown deepening. ]

Commander. Now. [ Her tone brooks no argument. ]

[Cullen is stubborn. A bad trait when the other person in the room can also be stubborn.]

Are you ordering me to the infirmary?

[ If there is one thing Nadia Trevelyan never expected to be in a position to do, it was pull rank with the man she's - in love with.

But, like so many strange things lately, here they are. And she's suddenly less the concerned lover and more the stern Inquisitor. Which should probably answer his question. ]

If that's what it takes, yes.

[He heaves one of his sighs--one that hitches suddenly because he's got a tear in his side. Ow. Cullen hisses.

Fine. She wins.]

Very well.

[... he waits for her to move. He can walk on his own.

Probably.]

[ He is so infuriatingly stubborn sometimes. She may be able to give the order, but she does at least feel obligated to let him try to walk himself down there. So she gives a sigh of her own and takes a few steps back.

She will stick close enough to help if it becomes necessary though. She has no idea how much blood he's lost, after all. What if he's lightheaded? What if he falls down the stairs? ]

[The blood loss isn't much of an issue as the pain is. The moment he stands up straight he's doubling over again.]

Barbed arrows are going on the requisition list.

[Damn it all. It hadn't punctured deep, but the hole it left when removed did not like to be jostled at all once the adrenaline wore off.]

[ That stern attitude is gone again in an instant, and she's back to being a worried woman fussing over him, gripping his elbow, encouraging him to lean on her. ]

Later. Let's take care of this, first. Are you sure it wasn't poisoned?

Certain. [Reluctantly, he leans on her, but is painfully mindful to give her too much of his weight.] I'm just--no longer as spry as I used to be.

[Maker, he's getting old.]

[ Nadia scoffs quietly, helping him down the stairs, heedless of any looks they might be getting, the Inquisitor helping her commander - sans armor, even! - to the infirmary.

It doesn't matter. She would do the same for any of the Inquisition's agents. ]

You're not old. Whoever it was just happened to get lucky before they died.

[ She didn't have to be there to know that much. ]

Old enough. [He grunts. Ow, his side. Ow, his ego. He doesn't look anywhere but ahead, not wanting to see any of his men spotting him in this state.] You were probably--probably still being swaddled by the time I joined the templars.

[Okay, he might be exaggerating, but he needs to not think about the slow spread of wet and warm liquid slip down his side.]

[ At the forefront of her mind is him - making sure he can keep his balance, making sure he's not about to lose consciousness somehow, taking it one step at a time.

But if he needs something else to talk about, well, fine.

She's honestly never thought much about his age. ]

I was definitely out of swaddling clothes, you're not that old. [ She might've still been a toddler though. ]

Damn whoever built all these stairs. [He's old. He has to lean onto her more the longer they're on the stairs because there's no way he can comfortable get down them.]

[ She can't help but shake her head a little at him. ] You could've gone straight to the infirmary and saved yourself all this trouble. You know the reports can wait.

It wasn't bleeding this heavily. [But she's right. With all his experience, he should know better. He does know better. Through the pain, he manages to give her a sheepishly apologetic look.]

I'm sorry.

[ She sighs, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs with relief, the infirmary tents not far off, and she waves at a healer. ]

I'm just glad it's not worse. Why didn't you go right away? [ Her assumption was - to save face with his men, maybe to get his report written up. ]

They come first. [Some got hit with a rain of arrows. Some were writhing in pain on the ground.]

This is far from life threatening. That I can swear to you.

[ She glances towards the infirmary tents, the smell of blood hanging from them, stronger now that there has been an influx of wounded. ] I understand. [ And she does - they are alike in that. She abhors the thought of others dying for her, even voluntarily. No matter how often Leliana reminds her the scouts and agents and spies know the risks, she feels every loss personally. In his position, she would've reacted the same way and she knows it. ]

You just - gave me a fright, that's all.

Forgive me. [In a rare show of public affection, he brushes the fingers of his free hand against her cheek.] It won't happen again. You have my word.

[ The touch takes her a little by surprise - they're both careful about keeping a certain professional distance in public, to try and minimize the gossip. It's far from unwanted, of course, just - unusual. ]

Don't worry about it. [ They both know he can't promise not to come to harm. She wouldn't ask him to. But still - he's only been gone a few days and she sometimes felt like she needed to scream. ]

Is it like this for you every time? [ Every time she leaves. ]

[He'll blame blood loss--or someone else's blood loss--if anyone dare bring this up to him.

Cullen gives her a grim smile.]

Every time. It's a wonder I haven't paced grooves into my floor from all that I do when you're gone.

Edited 2014-11-30 12:56 (UTC)

[ She knows he worries, she's just never been in his position like that. She rarely has a chance to consider it, either, leaving frequently as she does at a moment's notice, able only to tell whomever is close by that she's leaving and where to. She keeps Skyhold updated as best she can, via raven, courier, agent, whatever is available.

She makes a mental note to try and send updates more frequently. ]

And you think I'm a saint. [ She says that in lieu of an apology, because what would she be apologizing for? Doing her duty, just like him? There's nothing either of them can do about it, except endure it. ]

Here we are. [ A healer jogs up to give him a once-over and help him get sat down on a pallet. ]

[He doesn't want an apology from her. She is the Inquisitor and thus a very busy woman, and he himself is terrible at keeping his own family up to date on whether he's alive or not.

As he's eased into a sit, he bites back a yell. It comes out as a loud grunt.]

I'll be fine. You don't have to stay.

I know I don't. [ But she's going to anyway, for a while at least, until he's patched up. So she finds a seat, watching the healer work. ] I have some time. [ Time she was going to use to welcome him back properly. Preferably on his desk. There goes that idea. ]

[Cullen says nothing more, giving her a much too affectionate look for the number of people in the general vicinity. He only looks away once the healer begins to work. Cullen's shirt is removed to expose the mess on his side--sticky blood smeared here and there, all from a small puncture beneath his rib cage. He swears and grumbles and grunts under his breath but keeps relatively still and quiet.

The more compliant he is, the sooner it will be over.]

[ It's nothing, really, just the Herald of Andraste keeping her commander company as he gets patched up. She nods at a few healers and wounded soldiers. She'll make a proper round of the infirmary later, when she's less likely to get in the way of medics trying to do their jobs and save lives. Cole is probably somewhere nearby, helping in his way, too. ]

How many lost?

Not as many as I feared, but still too many. [Even one death was too many.] Once done here I'll finish the official reports.

[ Others may see his compassion for his men as a weakness, a liability. Not her. As far as she is concerned, it is their very compassion that sets them apart from the thing they're fighting. She said as much to Leliana.

And the way Cullen cares for them, just makes her love him more. ]

I'll drop by later to look at them. [ And make sure he eats. ]

And to make sure your commander hasn't bled all over his tower. [He knows.]

That, too. I - the Inquisition needs its commander in tip-top shape. No one else could do what you do, so you'll have to forgive me if I hover a bit.

[ In a totally, 100% professional way, of course. ]

I have always been fond of the job security. [As long as his own paranoia about lyrium doesn't get the best of him. His joke his punctuated with sharp hisses as the healer begins to mend his wound. He's had worse, but damn does it make his eyes sting.]

The soldiers would never stand for you being replaced. They'd replace me, first. [ She teases right back, trying to distract him from the pain a little with her lighthearted words, since it would be unseemly to take his face in her hands and kiss him all over, right out in public like this. ]

[That gets a tight smile out of him, and then the next minutes are spent sealing the wound, cleaning the area one final time, wrapping a bandage around him, and giving him an ample supply of pain relievers.

By the time it's done, Cullen looks rather unhappy. Not about the fast treatment--there are worse wounds to fix--but just about the predicament in of itself.]

[ The Inquisitor, on the other hand, looks more than a little relieved to see him all patched up in clean bandages with plenty of healing poultices and elfroot and herbs for the pain. ]

See? It'll heal much faster now. Thank you for humoring me.

[He allows his shoulders to slump just a bit once the healer heads off, looking at Nadia with tired, but appreciative eyes.]

Thank you for not allowing me to be stubborn.

[ Even like this, the look he gives her warms her to her toes. Many people look at her with reverence. Mostly it just makes her feel uncomfortable, like they expect things of her she probably won't be able to give. But Cullen is different. It's as though she's already everything and more to him, no expectations, just that respect and affection.

She would do a lot to make sure he never stops looking at her like that. ]

Is there anything more you need? We can walk back to your office? [ So she can give him a proper welcome-back kiss, at least. ]

That's a good idea. [He's eager to get away from prying eyes. This time, he patiently waits for her arm.]

[ And she offers it, as much an excuse to touch him as anything else. Up the stairs is harder. There are so many stairs here.

Sometimes she wonders why they bother with so much discretion. She thinks most people know. Dorian knows for sure, his teasing comments about strapping Templars made that clear enough. She has no doubt Leliana does as well, and probably whichever of her agents discovered it.

She doesn't think most people care all that much. But she does. She knows she has to look, act, behave a certain way. She can't just be the giddy Circle apprentice with her first crush, no matter how much she wants to sometimes. ]

[This time around his sounds of discomfort are quieter. News travels quickly in Skyhold, and he's sure the next time he walks into the War Room Josephine and Leliana will be watching him with their hawk-like eyes, waiting for the perfect opportunity to make some comment about his relationship with the Inquisitor. And his injury. And bed rest. Maker save him from these ruthless women.

He's a private man. He doesn't talk about his suffering with many, nor does he talk about his joy, though nowadays he knows that at least is becoming more apparent.]

I am not looking forward to the eventual climb to my loft.

[ Oof, that ladder. Right. An annoyance to climb when she's in a hurry to rip his clothes off - it will likely be very painful for him in his current condition. She winces a little at the thought. ]

Would my quarters be preferable? You know you're always welcome.

[ She murmurs that quietly as she helps him climb. It would mean a lot more stairs, and even more gossip than what's already being spread, but at least there wouldn't be a ladder, no concern over re-opening the wound. ]

Your--? I... would not want to impose... [But his voice says he likes the idea.]

Don't be ridiculous. [ They are long past the point where he should be thinking he's any kind of imposition. ]

Besides, I have a fireplace. It gets chilly and damp in that loft, it can't be good for the healing process.

If you're sure. [A fireplace does sound good.] It may be a few days until I can handle my tower...

I don't mind. [ She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, relatively confident that there isn't anyone near enough to notice.

She'd have him sleep in her quarters every night, if he'd allow it, if they could manage it discreetly, but they likely couldn't, it would be a little too brazen, possibly even for the decent folks of Skyhold. Oh, well. A girl can fantasize. ]

[He grabs her hand before she can pull away, giving it an assuring squeeze back.]

You are too kind.

[ She smiles a little, because really. As if he were a charity case. ] Yes, purely out of the goodness of my heart. [ As though she doesn't seek out his company nearly every day she's at Skyhold, as though she wouldn't take any opportunity that presents itself to be with him, in any capacity. ]

Remember that when I wake you in the middle of the night because my bandages itch.

[He'd love to wake her in the middle of the night for other things, but he supposes his movement will have to be limited for a while.]

[ While she would certainly like the other thing better, she hardly minds being woken by him for any reason. And he knows it. ]

Better me than you have to resist the urge to scratch by yourself. [ She keeps her tone light, but there are always more reasons she prefers to keep him close to her at night. ]

A very good reason to stay near. [Aside from the obvious, unfaltering adoration.]

I do like distracting you once in a while. [ Within reason, of course. ]

It keeps me sane. [They can't always be together, but she's a welcome distraction from battle plans and reports. It's hard to remember how he functioned before.]

Me, too. [ Not a day goes by she isn't grateful for him. ]

[Cullen looks at her with a warm smile.] Let's hurry to your chambers so I can kiss you without prying eyes.

[ She can feel the heat rising in her cheeks even as she picks up her pace. As much as she sometimes teases him for being flustered and blushing frequently, sometimes the things he says have exactly the same effect on her.

No one has ever looked at her the way he does. No one.

She doesn't even bother climbing the last flights of stairs - the door to the main hall snaps shut with a familiar click, and she's tugging him to her for that kiss. ]

[He chuckles with his lips against hers, a groan of discomfort deep in his throat, but hands finding her hips.]

Gentle, gentle! I'm wounded. Unless you plan on injuring me further so that I must stay here even longer. Wicked woman.

Sorry! [ She carefully wraps her arms around her neck, thus avoiding the urge to touch anywhere near the injury, and kisses him again. ]

Since when do you need an excuse to be here, anyway?

I just don't want to be in your way. [He presses his forehead against hers, inhaling softly.] And I know how little time you get to yourself.

About as little as you do, I'm sure. [ She cups his jaw with her hand, enjoying the feel of his stubble on her skin. ] I'd mostly rather be with you than be alone. Being alone just feels... overwhelming.

[ It's the best way she can describe it, the way when she's alone, the crushing weight of responsibility seems to settle around her shoulders, the way she thinks and rethinks and overthinks every decision, every minor mistake she might've made, falling down a spiral of terrible what ifs. He keeps her from going down that path. ]

I understand. [When he's alone, in those small moments where work does not need his attention, the lyrium whispers to him. Calls him, begs him to indulge. Sometimes he can still taste it on his tongue.]

Have I told you how much I've missed you, then? Because I have.

I missed you, too. And I'm glad you're back in - mostly - one piece. [ A smile, because she really is glad. He gave her a fright earlier, but it's fine. He's fine. For the moment. ]

Things like this will happen. [He pulls her in for a loose hug, careful of his injury.] I was never in any real danger. If you knew how many times I've pulled arrows out of myself...

[ Logically, she knows. She's seen him naked, after all, seen the scars, traced them with her fingers and her lips. Obviously, he's got a lot of experience with fighting. More than her, by far, despite the past several months.

But that hadn't mattered when she'd seen him there, bloody and skin looking clammy and pale. ]

Yes, well, I've never seen you that way, and - well. Hmph.

[Cullen has a boyish smile on his face when he pulls back. He doesn't say anything, just smiles.]

What? [ Nadia's eyebrow goes up as she studies him. ]

Nothing. [And then he starts to slowly limp towards the bed.]

[ Nadia just shakes her head, smiling a little, because she always smiles when he does. Seeing him smile is always a good feeling. ]

You should get some rest.

There is disappointingly little I can do with my injury, so I can't argue that. [Sitting on the edge of the bed, he winces.] Though perhaps I can whittle myself a walking stick.

[Old man.]

[ Nadia snorts laughter, perching next to him at his uninjured side to press a kiss to his jaw. ] Do you even know how to whittle?

... I can learn. [Excuse you, he is a man of many talents! ... on the battlefield and in the war room. He doesn't do hobbies. Yet.]

Blackwall. You know, he was carving a griffon... something or other the other day out there in the stables. If you really wanted to learn.

[ She actually giggles at the thought, though. Probably because the mental image it conjures is one of Cullen in full gilded armor, out in the stables trying to whittle... ]

[Cullen snorts.]

I'd like to see his face if I strolled into the stables and asked for lessons.

It would be priceless.

Or, we could always play more chess. I mean, I do owe you a chance to try and beat me.

You were lucky. [He begins to remove his shirt, one side of it stiff with drying blood.] Do not mistake that for skill.

Careful. Keep talking like that and I'll really give you an injury. [ HOW VERY DARE. The haughty look she gives him says it all, really. ]

Defenseless as I am? [He gets his shirt off and tosses it out of the way. A few specks of bright red can be seen on his bandages, and the surrounding skin is tinted red from the quick wipe down the medic had done. He leans back to gingerly check his belt and breeches--and like he thought, he can see dried blood on them, too. He mutters something about a mess.]

[ She chuckles a little at the very idea, following his gaze with slightly raised eyebrows. ]

Of course, worry about your breeches. It's your own fault. [ She slides a hand affectionately over his shoulders, her thumb finding a knot at the base of his neck and working to loosen it. ]

[Any reply is lost when she starts massaging his neck. He melts under her hand on an average basis, but this? Gets a moan out of him, shoulders going slack.]

Tch. [ He's always tense. They all are, who wouldn't be, with the world the way it is?

She always wishes she could do more, but she does what she can, regardless. His burdens are heavy, too. She starts working at the knots with both hands, feeling the muscles of his shoulders bunching up under her touch. ] Relax. Rest.

[She's trying to kill him. Her fingers find all the tense spots in his shoulders, and while it hurts a bit, it feels amazing. It turns his spine to jelly and sends tingles throughout his body.

He's about five seconds away from praying.]

[ And she's not using magic or anything. She notices the way his posture changes a bit as she works the muscles, and she moves, shifting behind him to get a better angle on things. ] It was rough. You're safe now. [ She murmurs that almost to herself. ]

[His head hangs as she works on his shoulders. Her attentive touches are making him hard (good thing he hasn't gotten around to getting his breeches off), but he's content to stay right where he is.]

Maker, you're--amazing.

[ She never quite knows how to respond when he says things like that. She thinks he's equally amazing, though he wouldn't even consider it. Smiling, she leans forward and presses a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades. ]

You've pampered me enough. [He says softly, trying to turn his head to look back at her.]

I'm not sure that's possible to do. [ She smiles, shifting to meet him halfway and brush her lips over his. ]

[This is where he'd turn fully and press her against the bed, but the moment he forgets about his injury and moves, he has to hunch forward with a frustrated sigh.]

Damn.

Careful - [ She chides him gently, and as her gaze drops to his side to make sure he didn't mess up the bandages, she notices that bulge in his breeches. ] We have shit luck sometimes, don't we.

[ That doesn't stop her hand from wandering to his lap, though, brushing her knuckles over him. ]

Indeed. [His groan is almost a whine. Not fair.]

[ Like she doesn't plan to follow through. Pfft. Her fingers start tugging at the laces on his breeches and she kisses him again, trying to think of how to make it work. If there's a position comfortable enough, for him to take her, to be inside her.

She's not sure, so for the moment she gently nudges him to lie back on the bed. ]

[Like he'll protest. Cullen carefully rests his back against the mattress and finds that being horizontal feels infinitely better than sitting up.]

We're worse than teenagers. [He can't help but laugh as he feels his pants being loosened.]

Maybe. [ She could say a lot of things to that - that this is still new, that they're all hyper-aware of the imminent threat of death, that not more than an hour ago he scared her half to death thinking he was seriously hurt, that she misses him when they're apart - all true. But she doesn't say any of that, just smiles, freeing his cock and giving it an experimental stroke. ]

Nothing I did as a teenager was as good as this.

Then that makes two of us. [No vows of celibacy for Cullen here, but when he was younger he was busy trying to be the best Templar he could be. He never acted on any infatuations. Never had the time nor the nerve.

His cock grows harder now that it's her skin against his, and Cullen clears his throat to stop the moan that wants to escape.]

[ She had a few trysts, with other apprentices. They were almost universally quick and unsatisfying - difficult to find decent privacy in a Circle Tower, constantly under watch. In some ways, it makes their trouble finding time to be together seem easy.

She likes the way his face starts to go slack and he tries so hard to be quiet while she touches him, it makes her smile. She understands the impulse, she does it too, still, always afraid of being overheard no matter how private they are. She kisses him, coaxing his mouth open eagerly. ]

[His hand slips behind her neck to keep her mouth over his, kissing her back thoroughly, almost hungrily. Maker, he missed her. A shame he'd gone and screwed things up by getting shot, but this is turning out to be alright.]

Please. [He whispers against her mouth when he pauses for a breath.] I need to have you.

[ It never takes much to get her body thrumming with want for him - his touches, kisses, the words her murmurs into her ear, and she needs this too, but - ] How?

[ The last thing she wants is to cause him pain, or exacerbate the injury in any way. He'll have to take the lead. ]

[That is a good question. Cullen rubs his chin, like he often does when mulling over a map.]

Firstly, you need to take off your clothes.

[ She grins that wicked grin, fingers already going to the clasps on her shirt. How many times has she walked into his office to see him wearing that exact same expression - or nearly so, anyway. Except now he's mostly unclothed, his cock nearly erect, his pupils blown wide, and all she wants in the world right now is him inside her as she tosses her shirt aside and starts squirming out of her breeches. ]

[Usually, he'd like to have a more active hand in getting her undressed, but he supposed an arrow to the side is a good excuse to take it easy. As he waits for her to undress he slowly strokes himself--no, he's not a teenager anymore, and it does take a little more effort to keep himself erect.]

You must have missed me.

[ She almost can't get out of her clothes fast enough, she is that eager. So that probably answers itself, really. ]

I did. I always do, you know that. [ It's not the longest amount of time they've been apart since they started this, but it was one of the most boring for her, anyway, with nothing to do but wander around Skyhold and fret for several days, when normally she'd be running around killing bandits and closing rifts and uncovering murderous conspiracies.

So yes, once her breeches are discarded, she's pressing against his uninjured side, hooking a leg over his, turning his face for another kiss. ]

I do know. [He wishes he could turn and run his hands over her body, admiring like he often did, but he doesn't want to risk upsetting his wound. Foolish as they're being he's sure he'll be in agony later, but it'll be worth it.]

Perhaps one day we'll swing in the other direction. Grow sick of seeing each other too much.

[Implying that they'll be together long enough for that to happen.]

That would never happen. [ She knows what he's getting at, but still. ] I like your face too much.

[He laughs. What kind of compliment is that?]

I like your face, too.

[ An intentionally silly one, if true enough in its way. She kisses him again, pressing herself closer with a hum. Her hand covers his on his cock, eager to touch him again. ]

[Cullen gives her a little nudge, urging her onto her back.]

Not yet.

[If he rolls himself gently enough, onto his good side, he can slip a hand between her legs.]

[ She allows it, pushing a lock of hair out of her face as she lies back, parting her thighs for him. She might get impatient, but that's half the fun. ]

I can't do much right now, but I am capable of this. [He's aching to be inside her, but Cullen knows the value of foreplay. Of doting on her. The touch on her clit is light and teasing.]

[ She's already aroused, and her toes curl a little in anticipation at that light, teasing touch. He's always so attentive, reverential even. Like he can't quite believe she's here.

That is just as arousing as anything else. ]

[He rubs small circles for a time, and then slips a finger into her, and another if she wants it.]

I think about this--you--often, while we're apart. About how much I want to pleasure you.

[ Oh, she definitely wants it. Her hips roll into his touch and her eyes flutter shut as she bites back a whimper. He - thinks about - this?

Maker, that's sexy.

Her fingers work their way into his hair as she whimpers again. ]

Cullen...

[For what she's given him--and continues to give--he'd do anything for her. He never thought himself as lovable, especially after he'd nearly lost his mind. He was an angry, broken man. And then after leaving the order--who would want to deal with him and his painful crawl away from lyrium? The mood swings? The nightmares?

Not to mention stubbornness when shot.]

Yes, Nadia?

[ What she sees is a good man, trying to do the right thing. A man who looks at her like she's the whole world.

Squirming again, she opens her eyes, smiling faintly. ]

I want you.

[He smirks. Oh, he knows. Now to orchestrate this without him bleeding all over her nice bed.]

Perhaps, with you on top of me--

[On his back his wound is stable... she'd just have to mind her legs.]

[ She nods. She can definitely do that - anything to have him inside her, frankly. The ache between her legs is insistent, but she moves carefully, helping him shift over so she can straddle him - keeping as far away from the injury as she can manage.

She rolls her hips, trapping his cock between them, biting back a moan as she guides him to her entrance. ]

[He's not able to bite back his own moan in time, but damn it, her chambers are secluded enough. She should hear what she does to him. He's missed the warmth of her around his cock, and for the moment he's content to be still, pull her down for a kiss, and feel her chest against his.]

[ She sinks down slowly, wanting to feel every inch of him filling her. She braces herself above him as he pulls her down for a kiss, making sure to avoid his injury as she sighs against his mouth.

She loves the moment or two of stillness, that feeling of fullness that reminds her he's real, he's here, he's hers. When she lifts her hips, it's slow, deliberate, and she sucks in a sharp breath when she sinks back down. ]

[The Maker, Andraste--both are on his tongue as she moves her hips. His hands slide over her thighs and to her ass, pulling her down, trying to fill her as much as he can, angling his hips to sink in all the more.]

[ That change of angle is perfect - as she sinks down again, he hits a spot inside her that makes her cry out softly, her hips jerking a little. She kisses him again, hungry, rocking her hips to try and hit that spot again. ]

[Cullen may not be the most experienced of lovers, but he's a quick study. It didn't take long for him to figure out what she liked, what made her cry out in pleasure, and so he repeats what he did, grinning affectionately all the while. At least until she attacks his mouth, and then he's matching her hungry kisses with ones of his own.]

[ She tries to keep her pace slow, so as not to jostle him too much or re-open his wound. It's difficult, though, the way he's working her up, that pressure she can feel building. She slips a hand between them, touching herself, and his name escapes her lips on a moan. ]

[This wound of his is providing a new sort of thrill: watching her have to go slow, take her time, resist the urge to fuck him harder. It makes him more patient despite wanting to do the same.

He lets go of her ass to run his hands up and down her sides before grabbing her breasts. Cullen loves her breasts and has fallen asleep on them more than once.]

[ She loves his hands on her skin, the calloused pads of his fingers sending shivers along her spine. She's so close already - her body coiling tight as she draws it out, lifts her hips until only the tip of his cock is still inside her, before rolling back down with a groan.

She's not usually this fast to get there - perhaps it's all the pent-up energy from the past few days, her relief that he's alright.

Her climax is sudden, shuddering through her body and making her back arch as she tightens around him with each wave of pleasure. Her pace slows again, but she doesn't stop moving, rocking her hips into him. ]

[He'll take it as a testament to his sexual prowess. Not that he talks about his bedroom affairs with anyone.

He's been ready to go since she first started giving him that massage. With her, it doesn't take much to push him to the edge, but the man has a great deal of self-control. So, when she comes, he focuses on her, pulling her down to hold her and kiss her as he moves with her. It's only when he can tell she's coming down that he allows himself to climax, thrusting into her quickly a few times before moaning into her hair, hugging her to his chest tightly as his whole body tenses.

His side didn't like that, but... ah, fuck it.]

[ She hums happily as she feels him spill inside her, tracing her fingers down the side of his face affectionately as she catches her breath.

She doesn't move away immediately, kissing him gently as she relaxes in his arms. ]

I love you.

And I love you. [Enough to make love to her when he's got a hole in his side. Not that he needs a reason to stay under her, kissing her lips and nuzzling the side of her face even as he softens inside her.]

I never thought I'd be so happy to be on bed rest.

[ Nadia smiles, just enjoying his touches and unwilling to let the moment end, even as she's thinking she should get off him soon, just so he can stretch, so his wound doesn't get re-opened on accident. ]

As long as it's my bed, I'll make it as pleasant as I can.

Careful. I won't want to leave. [He smirks, but it turns into a more conservative smile in the next moment.] Though I suppose if you are to lead the Inquisition, I must. There's the world to save.

I suppose so. [ She ducks her head slightly, tracing a finger over his collar bones. ]

And after?

[ Assuming they manage to succeed, and survive - well, she's reluctant to think about it, to get her hopes up, but sometimes - sometimes. ]

Uh. [??????] After?

[Is she asking what he thinks she's asking?]

Y..es...? [ Woops, was that the wrong thing to ask? She frowns a little as she watches him, suddenly worried. ] I just meant - if we make it through all this...

[Uh oh. Did he just fumble? Entirely likely.]

No, don't--don't think that. I mean [it's possible they'll fail, but he can't think that because she's their first line. If they are to fall, she will be the first.] ah...

What I mean to say is that... there will be an after. And with any luck, I'll be taking up your bed in this after. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

[ She gives a relieved sort of nod, and smiles faintly. ] You will. I won't allow you to be anywhere else. You're stuck with me.

I never thought I'd have this. I'm not letting go of it easily.

See? That's what I mean. [ Smiling a little, she finally - reluctantly - moves off him, to curl up against his uninjured side with a little sigh. ] Any woman would be lucky to have you. I'm sure there are still some offers from Orlais.

[He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. Did she really have to--]

The moment I began to have nightmares, or doubts, they would be running for the hills. The moment I was anything but Commander to the Inquisition...

[ She just smiles, resting her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. ]

It would be their loss. Not that you're not a perfectly excellent Commander, but you're so much more. Anyone who can't see that is a fool.

I don't know how you handle it when I can barely look too closely myself. [A hand gently strokes her hair.]

I can handle it, because when I look I see a kind, compassionate, considerate man who's been through a lot in his life and hasn't let it destroy his humanity.

You make me sound much grander than I am. [He sighs.] I often wonder what you would say if you knew me ten years ago and saw me now.

Does it matter? Who you were then doesn't change the man you are now. And that's the man I love.

I'm glad. [His hand trails to her cheek.] When we are finished, whenever that may be... I think I would like to go visit my siblings. They'll hardly recognize me.

You should. [ She smiles a little, pressing a kiss to his chest. ] I'm sure they would be glad to see you. And that they'll be proud of you.

If Mia doesn't kill me upon sight.

You should write her more often, then. Tell her about the good you're doing. I'm sure she wants to know. [ Like she's one to talk, she doesn't write to her family much, either, except in an official capacity - but that's different. Her parents love her, in their way, though they've never known how to talk to her, not since her magic manifested. And now, well. She makes use of their connections when she needs to, reluctantly, but she knows they use her just as much.

She rather envies Cullen his family. ]

I know I should. [Another sigh. He loves his siblings and misses them. He wants the to meet the Inquisitor, see the woman that he loves so much.]

They'll ask questions. Not--not questions about us. Those I do not mind, not from them. But about my time in the Circle, Kirkwall... it's only natural.

[He doesn't like talking about either of those things.]

I know.

[ Of course it's only natural that they would ask. But - ]

If they really do care about you - and I think they do - they'll understand if you don't want to talk about those things.

Besides, I should think your happiness now would be the most important thing. You are happy? As much as you can be, I mean.

[He used to be so open with his siblings. Tell them everything. A lot of that included his wishes to become a Templar, become a protector--and look what that's done to him.

Her question catches him completely off guard.]

What? Yes. Yes. I've never been this happy--and you? You're... happy. Right? As much as you can be?

Edited 2014-12-02 06:54 (UTC)

[ She nods. ] Yes. Very, very happy. Coming back here, to you, it's like coming home.

I'm... I'm happy to hear that. [How many times can he say happy?] Whatever I can do to make you happier, all you need do is say the word.

[ She laughs a little. ] I honestly can't think of anything right now. This is perfect.

I would agree if not for these blasted bandages. [They'd gotten sweaty, and now itchy, thanks to all of that. And the wound still wept. And he's sticky from his own ejaculation. So much for the afterglow.]

Is it alright? [ Fingers reach out to touch the edge of it, gently, making sure it's still in place. She wouldn't want their lovemaking to hurt him more. ]

It's fine. [He answered that a little too quickly.] Painful, but that's to be expected no matter what I've been up to.

... and the wrap itches something fierce. [That almost sounds like a pout though it's unintentional.]

I'll make a list. Herbs for the pain, a salve for the itch.

[ What kind of Inquisitor would she be if she left her Commander with itchy bandages? ]

Later. [He whispers against her hair.] I don't want you to go.

[ She grins a little, giving him a squeeze. ] Okay, I won't.

We should, however, clean up. [He's in no shape for a bath, but Maker, he could use a wet cloth right now.] You especially, lest the world crack in half and you're without your clothes.

Sera is always telling me I should be more like regular people. [ Does being like a regular person involve being without her clothes at the end of the world? Who knows. But the mental image - ]

But I see your point. [ She definitely does need to clean up - he's not the only one who's pretty sticky. One more kiss and she pulls away, sliding out of the bed to go do that.

She's not putting any clothes back on yet, though. ]

[Down is easier than up. He grunts as he pushes himself onto his elbows and then decides to stay there for the time being.]

Please don't follow the advice of someone who thought greasing my ladder to be a clever prank.

[ She laughs lightly - no point telling him she's been in on a couple of the pranks. They're all in good fun, anyway. ]

Iron Bull gives me the same advice, you know. He once got me dressed up in disguise to have a few drinks with the soldiers. Said I should know at least a few.

[ She tries, anyway. When she can. She says all this amiably enough, though, at the wash stand near the window, cleaning herself quickly. ]

Normal is well and good, I actually very much enjoy normal, but I think I've lost track of this conversation. [Sera and Iron Bull were not his most favorite people in Skyhold. They're far from his mind as he watches her clean herself. He's sure some people doubted the Herald of Andraste could be unclean. That she, too, needed to bathe and eat and sleep.

He loves watching her do mundane things.]

[ She laughs again. She's mostly just telling him things for the sake of sharing. Her companions are so very disparate in beliefs and perspectives - she's glad of it, in general, even though in practice it can be frustrating, if not occasionally infuriating.

She's the one who recruited them, after all.

But that's neither here nor there - not once she turns back toward the bed to catch him watching her with that look on his face like she's the most amazing person in the world. ]

Am I so terribly distracting?

[ She touches the wash basin, a small bit of power put into it, to warm the water again, before dipping a fresh cloth in. ]

Here.

You have no idea.

[Cullen is not a barbarian that will wash his genitals off while on his back in front of a lady, so he forces himself to his feet and walks over to her to take the cloth. It's warm.]

Thank you.

[Even then, he turns away.]

[ She just smiles, almost sheepish, and turns to wrap herself up in a housecoat. It gets chilly with the breeze from the mountains, and she perpetually keeps the big windows open onto her balcony.

She never knows quite what to do with those looks of adoration, much as she loves them. Never knows quite how to react. Except to bask in them and keep the memories close for when she's away from Skyhold, cold and damp and uncomfortable and lonely. ]

Feeling better already, I hope.

[He realizes, belatedly, he has no spare clothing in here. With a fair degree of awkwardness for someone who has been naked around the Inquisitor before, Cullen heads to the bed to slip in it, cleaner than he was before, though feeling the typical chill of Skyhold.]

Wonderful. I was hoping for a better reunion than being dragged by the ear to the healers.

[ She laughs a little, glancing at him slyly as he returns to the bed. What? His ass is gorgeous! ]

Come back uninjured next time, and we'll see how much better we can make it.

[ooc: Any preference for scenarios? Fighting demons? Bandits? Someone gets an arrow to the knee?]

[ Oh my! I'm open to just about anything really... TAVERN BRAWL? ]

[ooc: The idea of Dorian in a tavern brawl is just too good to pass up. Last question, prose or brackets?]

[ I can run with either no problem! ]

[It was supposed to be a simple drink at the Gull & Lantern. They were celebrating another victory over another Red Templar faction trying to move in to the Hinterlands when the fight broke out. At first, Dorian was enjoying the show. It was always amusing to watch other people be idiots. Then the fight bumped into Iron Bull and well, things spiraled out of control from there.

He was trying to make his way through the door, to get out of the chaos and insanity of the peasantry when he was struck across the cheek. He's dazed and stumbles into another fight which gets him a sharp jab in the ribs and pushed into a table. At that point, his dignity has suffered enough. He casts a flash of lightning which cracks the air like a whip. That brings order as magic often does.]

If you animals wish to continue, you will wait until I have left the vicinity or I will unleash a tempest that will tear this tavern down.

[That seems to settle the crowd. Dorian carefully smooths his hair back into place, stands up as straight as he can then walks out the door with his chin held high and hiding a slight limp.]

[ As the Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste, she's learned very quickly that it's not a great idea to walk into taverns, even with her companions. It's not that she expects to be the target of violence, certainly not here in Redcliffe, where she's well-liked for ending the hostilities in the area.

But she gets stared at, a lot, and believers tend to swarm her while most others tend to give her a wide berth. It's mostly just awkward and uncomfortable, so she bowed out of the celebration tonight, sticking to the camp they made just outside town.

She hears the commotion coming from the Inn, however, and grabs her staff to check it out. It sounds like trouble - something she's become very attuned to. When she spots Dorian, she approaches with a concerned look. ]

What's happened? Are you alright?

[Of course he encounters the Inquisitor when he's looking less than put together and flustered. He takes a deep breath and makes himself look confident and not royally pissed off.]

Just a little incident in the pub. Bull took offense to getting shoved. Unfortunately that's when the rest of us got shoved around as well.

[He sits in front of his tent to take the weight off his throbbing ankle. He must have hit it on the table in ran into. Of course his cheek also aches from the punch and generally he's in an unhappy mood. Injuries from demons and dragons and Venitori are one thing, battle wounds to be proud of, this simple wounds his pride.]

Oh. [ Maker's breath, it's almost a relief to hear that it wasn't a demon attack or Red Templars or bandits or... a damn dragon.

Then again, this is Iron Bull they're talking about. ]

Hopefully no one's dead. [ And she's not talking about any of her companions. Then again, Iron Bull is smart enough to know a tavern brawl from a real fight, with real stakes.

But Dorian is here, now, and he's limping. Slinging her staff across her back, she offers her arm for him to lean on. ]

Alright, how bad is it?

No, no one's dead. Bull knows his own strength. I think he's having fun with it. [It's a brawl with no consequence, something that won't end the world or save it. Dorian can't quite lose himself in that sort of fight like Bull can.]

My pride is the most wounded. [He admits only because he considers her a friend.] But I caught a right hook and a table leg.

Oh, I have no doubt of that. [ He does love hitting things. ]

Alright, sit down, let me have a look. Can't have you on a sprained ankle if we get attacked.

[ But she smiles faintly. What are friends for, after all? ]

You heal and can close rifts in the Fade, perhaps you are Andraste's chosen after all.

[He teases all in good fun because he's seen the way she handles the adoration and worship that gets thrown at her feet.

With her help he limps over to a log by the fire and sits with a relieved sigh.]

Tomorrow we shall return to Skyhold, yes? I do miss my chair in moments like this.

[ She laughs a little and shakes her head. If anyone would know how she really feels about all that Herald of Andraste stuff, it'd be her inner circle. What they put out publicly - or the gossip they allow to go unchecked - they do because they have to. Not because she actually believes herself Chosen. ]

I'm not actually a good healer. But I can hopefully relieve some of the pain. And yes, we'll be on our way. Our business here is done, for the moment.

[ She's got reports to file. And she misses her own chambers. And also maybe a certain Commander of her troops.

She gives the ankle a quick once-over, to make sure it isn't anything more than sprained. A break, she wouldn't be able to do much for. But a quick frost spell to numb it, followed by warmth to relax the muscles should at least help him be more comfortable. ]

Do we really travel without a healer so often? Why do they let us leave without one?

[While he knows a good barrier spell, he is not a healer. It's not a common talent in Tevinter, though many Magisters have spirits as slaves. The thought didn't make him uncomfortable until he came south and Solas put questions in his head.]

Are we truly that foolish? What am I saying, of course we're that foolish. We're the Inquisition. We're made of fools.

[He lets out a little sigh of relief as the throbbing in his ankle eases. Right now, he sees the appeal of frost magic, even if it isn't as flashy.]

We're only a day out from Skyhold, and we have plenty of healing poultices.

Then again, you did just get into a tavern brawl. So you may have a point. [ She gives him a teasing smile. ]

[He puffs up like an offended cat at her statement.] I did not get into a tavern brawl. I was dragged into a tavern brawl. There is a difference. If I got into one, there would be no tavern standing after.

[He will be having words with Bull later and make sure he gets an apology from the warrior. It will be a very good apology.]

Yes, please do not go burning innocent taverns to the ground. We only just got the locals on our side.

[ She gives him an amused, quelling sort of look. ]

And if you didn't want to get involved in things like that, I suppose you should've considered the company you keep more closely. [ She's just teasing, though. Iron Bull is definitely a fun drinking partner. And possibly more to Dorian, if the scuttlebutt at Skyhold is accurate. Good for them. ]

I would make sure to build them another one. A better one even!

[Quelling looks don't work on Dorian. He simply grins, unrepentant.]

Varric isn't around to drink with and Vivienne wouldn't be caught dead drinking in a tavern. [Besides, he does really like Bull, something that is incredibly problematic and yet simple at the same time. Feelings were not supposed to get involved.] And you, dear Inquisitor, ran off. Who else was I to drink with?

Yes, it's all my fault, I forced you into seeking out Bull's company. [ She gives him a knowing smile. ]

[He scowls at her, but it's really more like a pout. The gossip is everywhere and people are prying. It's annoying.] You are responsible. You did bring him into the Inquisition. I have you to blame for this.

If that's the case, then good.

[ She perches next to him, taking a look at that bruise on his face. Not much she can do about that - it'll just have to heal on its own. ]

I want you to be happy. Both of you. And if I helped that happen, I'm glad.

And are you happy? Commander Cullen handles losing much better these days. I wonder what might have brought that about.

[He is happy with Bull but talking about it feels like risking the end of it. It's much easier to tease her about her relationship.]

Might it have something to do with why you're happier?

[ She knows she and Cullen are being talked about, probably as much as Dorian and Bull. It still sends a faint flush to her cheeks when he brings it up, though, and she laughs a little at her own ridiculousness. ]

He's a very good man. With the troops, I mean, and - is it that obvious?

Only when someone's been playing chess with the man for months.

[Ah, the blush is fun to see. Poor Inquisitor and Commander, they are the favorite topic of gossip around the hold, a love story for the ages according to the bards.]

You walk by and he forgets all strategy. Honestly, I should pay you to help me win.

[ She laughs again. What a mental image. ]

Maybe that's why I beat him so often. [ They've played a few times, now, and she's won every time. Well, she did have quite a lot of time to practice, back in Ostwick. ]

He makes me very happy.

[It's actually fairly true. Cullen seems to forget whatever move he was making when she goes by.]

You and I should have a game sometime. We can see which mage is the better strategist.

[Dorian smiles softly, one of his rare genuine smiles.]

Bull makes me rather happy as well.

You're on.

[ She leans close, nudges his side gently with her elbow, grinning. ]

At least some good has come of all this. Even if he's dragging you into tavern brawls.

His apology better be good though or I'll make him suffer as I have.

[He puffs himself up again, all pride and lordship.]

He will if he knows what's good for him. He's a smart guy.

[ Iron Bull may want to be seen as nothing more than a mindless hitting machine, but she knows better. Knows he has a quick and discerning mind, and he knows how to read people. ]

The Commander doesn't test your patience does he? He seems quite steady.

[Perhaps he's prying a little but he's genuinely curious that she is happy and will be kept happy.]

[ She shakes her head a little, smiling fondly. ]

He doesn't give himself enough credit sometimes. And I think he doesn't quite think he... deserves me? But I don't mind explaining that he's wrong.

Ah, how interesting. I suppose that fits with his serious demeanor. Well, you just keep proving him wrong and I will laugh with amusement at how flustered he gets.

[He pats her hand gently, like a dotting uncle.]

[ Dorian might understand, if he knew of Cullen's struggles. If he knew of the terrible things he's endured. But those are things he's told her in confidence, things she keeps close. They're his to share, and hers to keep to herself. ]

He is adorable when he gets flustered.

[Dorian has some understanding simply through the friendship he has with the Commander but he never pries. Cullen treats him the same. That's why they're friends.]

I almost expect all his fur to ruffle with his mood.

He's come close, once or twice.

[ She's pretty sure that poor messenger who interrupted them on the battlements is still terrified of Cullen. ]

And sometimes he seems very... boyish.

Boyish, but not childish?

[Dorian and Bull have scarred many a messenger, serving wench and others around Skyhold. It's why they are no secret to anyone.]

There's a difference, you know.

No, not childish. [ She shrugs and grasps for words. ]

He's just... unsure of himself, sometimes. The first time he kissed me, he apologized.

Oh, I hate when they do that. Don't apologize, you fool, kiss me again!

[He throws up his hands, dramatic as always.] I do hope he kissed you again. I can give him a proper talking to.

[ She laughs a little. ] Oh, he definitely did. Once I made it very clear that was exactly what I wanted.

Now that he knows - he's much more confident. Mostly. I understand, I was - Perhaps you don't know what it means, here, Templars and mages...

I have a feeling it wasn't encouraged by your Chantry. Then again, it's not encouraged in the Imperium either but mostly because it dilutes the pure magical bloodlines. You have different reasons, I'm sure.

[As always, he's not impressed with the Circles and the ridiculous South.] He is an ex-Templar though.

"Not encouraged" is a nice way of putting it.

[ Her smile turns a little wry. ]

He isn't a Templar anymore, no, but the things we're taught - they stick with us. In the Circle - Templars were not our friends. They were there to watch us. One of the first things you learn as an apprentice mage is that if necessary, they're there to kill us. They learn the same.

And your Circle is much better than mine. A shining example of how mages are meant to be trained and kept safe from the rest of Thedas.

[The sarcasm is heavy in his voice.]

Well, I encourage you fully. What you learn can be unlearned, overcome. Look at me.

A "Vint" and a Qunari, it's terribly scandalous.

[ She flashes him a smile. There are people who find the very fact that she's allowed someone from Tevinter and a Qunari to join her cause scandalous, but she ignores it. ]

We trust each other. That's - amazing, really. [ Considering the years of conditioning, the years of being taught that Templars and mages don't mix, that they can never and should never trust each other - coupled with knowing what Cullen went through in Ferelden. It means the world to her. ]

My ancestors are properly horrified, I'm sure. Of course it's none of their business. It's never been anyone's business who I bed but that's Tevinter for you. We're as concerned with breeding as the Qun.

[The blacksmit spits at him. It's one of the nicer reactions. There's that damn Chantry priestess who keeps harping on him too. Nothing is easy for him here.]

And why wouldn't you? Put aside the ridiculous Templars and Mages titles and see each other for people and suddenly you can be lovers, shockingly, you can love! It's amazing how treating people with respect makes them human.

Does wonders for the ego, too. Not being seen as a potential abomination, or a weapon, or a tool for someone else's ends.

[ She nudges him again. ] And being worshiped, not because I'm the Herald of Andraste, that's nice...

I have learned that it is not magic that makes someone a weapon or an abomination.

[He laughs and it's deep, genuine laughter.] He does look like a man who is very good at worship. Very devout.

True enough.

[ Her smile turns a little lovestruck. ] He's very attentive. Have you ever been with someone who makes you feel like their whole world revolves around you?

Bull is very attentive in other ways. [He doesn't want to be the one to explain their unusual sex life to her. He really doesn't. Bull can be the one to do it.] That's not to say he doesn't leave me satisfied but I don't think it's quite like what you and the Commander have.

[Although, he would not be surprised if the Commander has a bit of kinky side to him.]

[ Details - probably aren't necessary. As far as she's concerned, knowing he's happy is all the detail she needs.

Cullen probably would never be as kinky as Iron Bull. Sex on his desk is the most unusual thing they've done so far. ]

As long as it works for you. I know you rib each other all the time but you can't hide the fact that you care about each other, you know.

[It's a shame she will never know the joy of being tied up and driven crazy. A shame Cullen will never know it either.]

I can't decide if his teasing is the worst or the Chargers. Don't let his good looks fool you, Krem is ruthless. I cannot see the Commander as someone to tease. Very direct that man. Problem? Siege engines will fix it.

Something tells me you enjoy it quite a bit, regardless.

[ She tilts her head back a little, that soft smile still on her face. ] I tease him.

Well, maybe a little bit.

[He's quite happy to see that look on her. She deserves it.] Thank the Maker someone does. He needs to be teased one and awhile.

You should've seen his face the time I asked him if he took vows of celibacy.

I wish I could have! That would have been a sight to remember. Was he shocked? No, no, he scowled. No, that's not right, he stuttered his way through an answer, yes?

He was shocked, and he stuttered. He blushed very handsomely, and asked me why I wanted to know.

I imagine you didn't say something along the lines of wanting to tear off his armor and ravish him.

No, that would've been a bit much, even for me. Besides, I was worried his face would literally catch on fire.

That might be funny to see. You should try it, let me watch. It might set all that fur on fire.

[ She laughs again, sheepish. ]

Maybe, someday.

[ Mostly, she agrees that their private affairs should stay just that - private. Though, she also has to resist the urge to treat it like a shameful secret at times. Something else to unlearn from her life in the Circle - trysts were frowned upon in general, and privacy was difficult to come by. ]

Well, I hope you have a lot of somedays with your Commander. Maybe one day little mageling babies running around, setting things on fire out of mischief.

[He wiggles his fingers around, like they were little mage babies running around causing trouble.]

[ That definitely gets the blush to return to her cheeks. What a thought. Children? Of her own? With Cullen?

He would be a wonderful father, she knows that much. She hasn't allowed herself the possibility of being a mother, however, not since her magic manifested. Children born to Circle mages get taken away by the Chantry. Occasionally, she knows visitations would be allowed, but only when they are older. ]

I hadn't thought about it.

Well, think about it. Imagine all you wish, dear. You have freedom now. Imagine your wedding, imagine your children, and mostly imagine him naked.

[He wishes he could give her the sense of freedom he has from Tevinter, though his preference for men means he's only ever allowed imagination. No wedding, no children, none of those things for him within Tevinter.]

I really need to teach you how to enjoy your freedom.

[ She laughs, leaning her head on his shoulder. ]

Yes, do. I clearly have a lot to learn, and I'm enjoying what I already have. [ Given the circumstances. ]

Where should I start, apprentice? Perhaps with flashier robes. You don't have to dress like Solas, you know. Homeless apostate you are not.

[It warms his heart that she is so easily affectionate with him. It's the true companionship he never had in Tevinter. The South, though freezing, is more warming than his home.]

I wouldn't want to outdo you.

I do like the color blue, though.

[ She enjoys it, too. One thing she did not expect to come of all this mess - friends, people who genuinely care about her and want to see her happy. It's a big part of why she sees Skyhold as more home than any other place she's lived. ]

Don't worry, your personality is too humble to out do me.

[He pats the back of her hand gently.]

I'm not suggesting something like Vivienne's robes. That's not your style. A little more Herald, less Orlesian Game, in blue.

I don't have the decolletage for something like Vivienne wears.

[ Cullen would find it terribly distracting, she's sure. ]

But I'll leave that in your capable hands, my friend.

Leave it in my hands and the capable hands of a tailor. Vivienne will be so jealous you've allowed me this privilege.

[Oh, what Dorian will have made will distract him as well in different ways.]

You get to have a say too. They are your robes.

I can't say I have much of an eye for fashion. As long as they keep me warm and allow me to move comfortably, I don't have much preference beyond that.

Those ridiculous neck ruffs half the ladies in Orlais wear, though... none of that.

I promise I won't let you look like an Orlesian noble woman. Which shoulder would you like bare?

[He's teasing about the shoulder. He won't do that to her. It's his signature look.]

A bare shoulder? Doesn't that get chilly?

I do wear a cape when we go traipsing into the wild. In Skyhold, it's not chilly at all.

Well, not where you spend most of your time, perhaps.

[ The library is pretty cozy, all things considered. Her chambers are nice and warm, as well. Other parts of the keep, not so much. Cullen still hasn't assigned anyone to repair the roof of that tower he's claimed. As much time as she spends there, well. It's chilly in the pre-dawn gloom. ]

Bull needs his ceiling repaired. Who do I speak to about that? It's chilly as the Void in there.

[Bull's tower is in worse repair than the Commanders. If it wasn't for the Qunari's bulk, he would freeze every night.]

Can I abuse our friendship that way?

I'll see what I can do. The main keep has first priority, barracks for the soldiers and stables for the horses, you know how it goes.

[ She grins, though. It'll be done, she'll find a way. ]

You know, I was somewhat surprised you ride. Did they teach you that in the Circle?

[He's pleased. A ceiling will make it easier for him to spend the night in Bull's room.]

No, when I was younger. My family is minor nobility in Ostwick, it was just one of the things I learned. You know, in addition to the manners and etiquette and music lessons.

There was a time when I was expected to be marriageable, too. [ Magic is just not a desirable trait in the Free Marches. ]

I had a very similar childhood. Of course, my magic was encouraged. The whole point of my childhood was magic as you know.

[He doesn't have to hide that from her. She's met his 'father' and knows his past.]

I suppose we were both tools for our families. Glad to have escaped that, at least.

[ His usefulness ended with his refusal to marry. Hers, with her magic. ]

It's nice to be seen as a person, at least by the ones who matter.

Has your family contacted you? I imagine they'd want to know.

[He has hopes things can change for Thedas' mages, especially with her as the Herald.]

We were always people and we can't let others make us forget that.

[ She gives a humorless sort of laugh. ] Oh, they have. I'm useful to them again, you see.

[ And then a sigh. ] That's not entirely fair. My parents... They care, I suppose, in their own way. I haven't seen them much since I was ten years old, though. Once a year or so, since I passed my Harrowing. I have an older brother and sister, and another brother who was born after I went to the Circle.

Nothing says you have to be fair to your parents. [Just look at him and the disaster of his parents.]

What a large family. Perhaps one of them is worth knowing.

Maybe. [ She studies her hands for a moment. ]

I'm sure - once this is all over - [ And if she survives, of course, but that's what she's operating on, because the alternative isn't something she can think about if she wants to sleep at night and keep her sanity. ] I'll likely invite them to Skyhold.

That's good. They can meet Cullen. [He would like to see someone's parents be excited and happy for them. It would be a nice change.] You'll have people flooding Skyhold to meet you though and when this ends, you'll never shake the Herald title.

Some of them will like him. My family is very pious, lots of priests and Templars. Some will only see a commoner from Ferelden, but that's their problem, not mine.

[ She tilts her head. ] I'm going to need a holiday.

I hear Antiva's nice if you don't mind assassins. Cassandra hasn't ever said anything nice about her homeland. I wouldn't recommend it. Don't go to Tevinter.

[He makes a face at the very idea.] Or the Qun.

No, I'm sure Par Vollen is right out after what I did to that alliance with the qunari.

[ She makes a slight face. ] I think Empress Celene wants me to spend more time at the Imperial Court, too. The food is alright, but ugh.

I doubt he'll say thank you for that, but he's grateful you saved them.

[Enough feelings. Dorian laughs.] Don't go. Or if you do go, bring Josephine to distract people while you explore Orlais.

[ Yeah, there's no point. She wasn't going to let Bull's friends die. The alliance wasn't important enough for that. He seems alright, all things considered. ]

What we need is someplace to go and hide. Like Hawke. [ She'd have to come back, though. She and Cullen are both far too duty-bound to run away forever. ]

You know, a nice, quiet little cabin in a wood somewhere, or near the sea.

[Dorian is fond of the Charges, almost as fond of them as Bull is. It's a strange little family he's been adopted into.]

I don't think the caves in Crestwood are a romantic get away. [He makes a face at the very idea of going back to that charming little hell hole.]

What about a quiet little place in your home March? Have Josephine quietly buy you a place and disappear.

Ostwick. It's near the sea. My family has an estate at the seaside, I've always liked it there.

We couldn't stay away forever though. [ She's far too aware of the position she occupies as the Herald of Andraste. The Inquisition might be able to continue on without her, eventually, but not right now. Possibly not for a long while, even if they manage to fix this mess. ]

I don't recommend a family home for a romantic get away. Your family can find you.

No, you'd have to come back but we would be waiting to welcome you back. [The others might not stay while she was gone, but Dorian would. He didn't have anywhere else to go after all.]

No, I wouldn't use their estate, but something... like it. On the seaside, might be nice.

[ She pats his shoulder fondly. ] If you're not off traipsing about with Bull, you mean.

I'm sure there's a nice home you could buy with all the gold flowing in. Or maybe a Keep to take over.

[He scowls at her but it's more of a pout. Is he that obvious?] I am not joining his Chargers. I have no intents to wander the world with him.

A cozy little shack with a big bed would be enough for me.

[ She smirks at him. ] Uh-huh. There's a lot of world to see, you know. You'll always have a place at Skyhold.

That must be easy to be find.

I've seen a great deal of it. I don't need to see more of it. [Unless, maybe, Bull is there. He might see more if Bull is there.] Of course, the library would fall apart without me.

It probably would. It's only just getting on its feet, really.

It's lovely, but has so much potential. It could expand in to the mage tower you built if you'd like.

If you want more space, then sure. If there's one thing Skyhold has in abundance, it's space.

I'll talk to the librarians and see what they think. Thank you, I appreciate the consideration.

[ooc: Would you fancy a DA OC? Evaris is a Reaver-- but one of those who took part in some dragon blood tasting and well-- he's some unique circumstances. Find him very injured, perhaps recruit him?~]

[He gets hurt a lot, but perfectly willing for him to be the one patching someone else up!]

[Aged up Ritsuka okay?]

[Fine by me!]

[Years have passed and he still doesn't like seeing Soubi hurt. He knows it's a natural part of the world Soubi has introduced him to, but that doesn't mean he turns a blind eye to it. Now that he's older, he feels like he can take charge and, more importantly, take care of his Fighter.

Black ears twitching in concern, Ritsuka reaches out and unbuttons Soubi's shirt, his forehead furrowed in concentration.]

I know you're hurt. Stop hiding it.

[No matter how much time has passed, Soubi still tries his hardest to hide any injury from Ritsuka. It didn't matter what happened to him so long as he could protect Ritsuka, for all that he'd never expected to come to actually care for the boy up until they'd finally met. But he had.

And now, after everything that's happened, he frowns at the Sacrifice. At least this time he doesn't stop his shirt from being undone and pushed aside to show the long gash in his side. Was he growing so careless?]

...It's nothing, Ritsuka. I can handle it.

[Not that he really wanted to. But wants and needs didn't matter when it came to him, unless they were Ritsuka's wants or needs.]

[It's a bad habit that has somehow become charming over time. He won't admit that, of course. Soubi has a hard enough time learning without him supporting his illogical decisions.

The frown is ignored. He already has bandages and disinfectant ready. This is going to happen.]

Why does that matter? [It doesn't. His tail is held stiffly as he dabs at the gash with a clean cloth.] You shouldn't have gotten hurt. I know you shielded me.

[Illogical choices that make perfect sense to his warped upbringing and all the reinforcement that had followed all the way up to, and to a point past, meeting Ritsuka. But the point was that Soubi was learning. Slowly and painfully, but he was.

The frown almost turns to a pout as it's ignored though, and Soubi remains standing, obediently still to let Ritsuka do whatever he wants. The stinging pain as the wound is treated just gets dismissed as he focuses on the Sacrifice.]

Of course I shielded you.

I'm older now. You don't have to do that. [He likes to think he's stronger, which might be a misconception. He's taller, yes, but not as tall as Soubi, and slender. It seems like his old wish of looking like Seimei - and being as strong as his brother - will go unheard.]

We should protect each other. [His expression is stubborn, determined. Both of them have ridiculous pain tolerances thanks to their upbringings, after all.] It's okay if I'm hurt too. I don't care.

I want to. [And he does. If there's one wish he kept for himself it was that. Not to mention there's really no other choice in his mind. He'd always shielded Seimei, and that had simply passed on to Ritsuka.

That stubborn expression has him smile though, and he finally reaches out to loosely wrap arms around the shorter man, not enough to restrict anything Ritsuka was doing. Ritsuka has spent so much time driving the point of wanting to know what Soubi wanted, that it was only fitting he makes use of it.]

I want you safe and unhurt.

[Color rises onto his cheeks and his ears perk, swiveling towards Soubi curiously. Kind words affect him deeply, especially from him. The Fighter has always had the ability to make him feel warm...loved, even. And he's not sure what to do with those emotions.]

I am safe. You made sure of that. [He drops his gaze and focuses on bandaging the gash.] But you don't understand...

I want you safe and unhurt too.

[Soubi manages not to laugh at the blush, but his head tilts to one side a little as his smile slowly grows. Adorable.

As Ritsuka looks away to bandage him up, and throws his words right back at him, he sighs, smile fading though he doesn't pull away. It's just too nice to be allowed to touch and hold Ritsuka.]

I know. [He still doesn't really understand why.] But you know how the spells work. One of us has to take damage.

[The bandaging requires him to move closer to wrap the cloth around Soubi's middle. His posture relaxes and his ears rest against his hair. No matter how much they argue or how irritated he feels, Soubi has the ability to - with a simple touch - calm any storm raging inside of Ritsuka.

It really isn't fair.]

Then let's alternate. [His arms slide around the Fighter's waist once the bandage is in place. There, hug returned.] I'm a fast healer and pain doesn't bother me.

[He'll take anything he can get in that respect. Soubi wraps his arms a little tighter around Ritsuka as the Sacrifice steps closer and leans down the few inches to rest his forehead against the top of Ritsuka's head.

The return hug was always a bit of a surprise to him, but a welcome one for all that it took him a minute to realize Ritsuka was done. He nuzzles the dark head a little, then tugs him over to the bed to sit down.]

I don't know if I can do that...

[The contact feels good and he wishes - not for the first time - that his mind could be silent. Soubi is important to him and it's natural to want to touch him. Just for a moment, it's okay for him to stop fighting; to stop struggling, right?

He sits down on the bed, one arm still wrapped around Soubi. His free hand rests on the Fighter's chest.]

Maybe I won't give you a choice. [Judging the attacks is something he has had to learn. Very gently, he calls forth their bond and motions at the golden string.] I know what you know.

[For Soubi's part, he just enjoys getting this much. To touch and to hold someone so very important to him that sometimes just thinking about losing it made him hurt. But pain had never made him stop doing something, and in this he'd managed to act as if nothing weighed his heart.

His eyes close at the words and feeling their bond, a breath sighs out and he leans a little more against Ritsuka.]

Then it will be as you order.

[So it comes down to an order. He should have expected it. Soubi is that kind of boy. His chest expands as he takes a deep breath and he tips his head back, eyes fixed on Soubi's features.]

Do you care about me because you were ordered to? What about your happiness? Your choices? Don't they matter?

[Of course it comes down to an order. It rarely doesn't.

He blinks at the gaze fixed on him, expression sobering a little. Then further at the words and he reaches a hand up to loosely wrap fingers around Ritsuka's neck. No pressure. Just touch, as he marvels at the boy for a moment.]

At first it was just because I was ordered to. But I never expected to really care for you.

[His lips slowly curl up again after a moment.]

My happiness? I don't deserve to be happy. My choices are meaningless if they don't fit with my orders.

((So this guy is technically from a medieval fantasy setting but can be AU'd to modern times. He's from a race of long-lived people who have dreams and make prophecies about the future and then try to stir the world into following the right course of events for the prohecies to come to pass. He's used to tending for people

And his real name happens to be Beloved. Think we can work something out?))

[Oooooh, I'd love to! Did you have any thoughts on how?]

((Well, he's definitely the type to pick someone he'd find hurt in the street and bring them home... and he'd be doubly interested if he saw that person had 'Beloved' carved on his neck.

Like for example after that time Soubi fought one of the Zero unit solo?))

[Sounds perfect to me! Could go from that scene directly if you wanted, in fact. I'm flexible on time frame XD]

((OOC : As a note, he's very pale, with almost colorless eyes and white hair. He's also not very tall, but mch stronger physically than he looks.)

The temperature had dropped a little too fast, and in an area too localized for it to be perfectly natural.

It was like no matter what he did he always ended up being dragged into things. Even when he tried not to because his friends told him to stopp meddling with things. He was supposed to meddle with things, of course, but even when he did his best t stay away, things just kept coming to him.

It wasn't every day, either, that one would find somene slumped against a wall while on their way home from the grocery store. Especially not someone with a sloppily bandaged hand that was still bleeding, and a few letters that appeared to be carved into his flesh peeking out from another set of bandages.

He blinked, stopped in front of the man - It appeared to be a man - then put down his brown paper bag and crouched.

"You shouldn't stay out there with open wounds. Predators can smell that, you know."

It could have been a joke - they were in the middle of a city - yet he sounded completely serious, and his face showed concern.

[OOC: Thanks!]

His head was swimming. He'd planned to call someone for help, but hadn't quite gotten that far when someone crouched down in front of him. When had he fallen? Had he fallen? It was hard to know. Not that it really mattered. At least he was upright, if leaning back against something.

Soubi blinked at him, working to focus and figure out words. Words words words. And why was a stranger so worried about someone they'd found on the side of the road, injured or not? What had been said didn't really matter, but struck him as somewhat funny.

Funny enough that a faint smile touched his lips and he tilted his head a little.

"Too late."

"Well, obviously," the white-haired man answered, rolling his eyes. In spite of his coloring, his face was youthful.

"But it's no use waiting for the rest of them, is it? Besides, you shouldn't even have been alone in the first place, isn't that right? Someone is going to be angry with you, I'm sure."

He seemed to come to a quick decision and grabbed his bag with one hand and the man's arm with the other.

"Up you go. Let's get you off the street."

In truth, the stranger's coloring barely registered. He just knew there was someone there, talking to him.

The faint smile faded, leaving just weariness. There was no reason to hide from this man, strange as it was. He wouldn't tell Ritsuka, who was the only one who mattered. Speaking of, Soubi grimaced. Acknowledging that yes, there was someone who would be angry with him.

Maybe enough to finally punish him? He could hope.

He started a little when he was grabbed and tugged up to his feet, weak and utterly uncooperative in terms of helping support his weight. Stronger than expected.

"Not worth it."

But other than that, he didn't really try to stop his savior.

"That's not for you to decide," the young man answered in a singsong voice.

He didn't seem to mind that his new charge was almost a dead weight, and he did make sure not to walk too fast for him.

It wasn't like this was the first injured person he'd picked off the street. This was, in fact, lowly becoming a habit.

"Just a little further. I live on the ground floor, too, so no stairs."

He lived, in fact, in a small town house that looked entirely too luxurious for someone living on their own at his age.

He cursed a litlle under his breath as he helped his new guest inside and kept him propped up while toeing off his shoes. The bag with the groceries was abandoned in the entrance hall as he brought Soubi further inside, into a living room and onto the couch.

The whole place was a burst of color, almost by constrast with its owner. There were tapestries on the wall, carpets ont he floor, cushions everywhere, and a fire burning merrily in the fireplace.

"Wait here," he said unnecessarily.

Edited 2014-12-01 14:14 (UTC)

The tone got a mild glare, in truth he was too tired to do more. Soubi just did his best to keep placing one foot in front of the other and go where he was half led, half dragged. No stairs was a relief, and one he wouldn't have been able to boast of had he made it home.

And on to the couch once inside, though there wasn't much point in him trying to toe off shoes as injured and dirty as he was. Something that would have earned him so many beatings were he still at Seimei's side. He barely made any sound of pain, and only when the worst of his injuries were bumped. Just a soft breath, an intake of air that gave it away.

Color all around? He didn't notice. Just slumped over on the couch, head bent to his knees. As if he'd be going anywhere fast, or at all on his own.

The young man was soon back with a first aid kit and a basin full of warm water and a washcloth.

"Help me get your coat off," he said as he started pushing it off Soubi's shoulders. Truth be told, he knew the injury to the hand was more serious, but the few letters he seen under the torn bandage around te man's neck intrigued him more, and a few more minutes would not make his hand more infected anyway.

"Give me your glasses too," he said, holding out his hand for them.

Once they were off, he made a move to take off the neck bandages. They were torn and bloodied anyway, so they would have to be replaced at the very least.

Soubi could easily have fallen asleep right there, had let himself start to drift when he heard footsteps return and the order. He could easily have ignored it.

...But he was so tired. Tired of making his own choices. Tired of everything. So he simply obeyed, forcing his battered body to move again and shrug off the heavy coat. Reminded of the glasses that had managed to stay on his nose, he blinked before simply plucking them off and dropping them carelessly into the hand stretched out to him.

And he was too tired to do more than tense a little at the touch to his neck, but made no attempt to pull away. Why hide the name that had been carved into his neck, the name that bled each time he went against it? 'Beloved'. For someone who was not loved. Ironic.

He put the coat and glasses away on the coffee table and made short work of removing the bandages. Then, he dipped the washcloth in warm water and wiped away the blood and grime.

... He'd been right. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but he had been right. This person, this... stranger was sporting the word 'Beloved' carved on his throat.

He was used to portents and signs, but they usually did not stare at him in the face like this. He normally had to puzzle things out more and sometimes didn't even know he'd managed to change things until after they'd come to pass.

This, though, was a bit too blatant to ignore.

He traced the letters with the tip of his finger.

"Why do you have my name engraved in your flesh?"

He was being taken care of, for once. Perhaps it wasn't by the people who should have been, but it didn't change the fact that it was happening. Soubi cooperated enough to not hinder bandages removed and the cleaning up of the usual punishment that was his for going against his name.

As for the name being traced by gentle fingertip...it was enough to have his eyes crack open to study his rescuer, then to blink at the question.

It...actually made him a little angry. Enough to send a tired glare as he straightened a little, pulled away as suddenly he didn't really want to be touched.

Was this Seimei's other Fighter? Did he really want to know?

"Your name can't be Beloved. Not your true name."

The young man - Beloved - didn't try to force the physical contact, but he puffed his cheeks in annoyance at the reaction.

"It is, though. That is what my parents named me. I have many names, but that is the first one I was ever given. Why can't it be my name?"

He studied Soubi's face. Even tired as the other man was, it wasn't very difficult to read his expression.

"It makes you angry that this is my name. Why?"

He narrowed his eyes at the man, watching him closely and willing himself to stay focused a bit longer. He didn't hear any lie...and it hurt to not hear the lie.

But the full implications had him frown again. Parents didn't usually know their child's real name until later. And they weren't given. It didn't make sense, but at least it somewhat cooled the anger.

Soubi shook his head a little, looking away and down a little.

"If it's your birth name, forget I said anything. It doesn't matter then."

"You know, I'm the one who should be angry. No one should have done something like this with such a name. It hurts, doesn't it? It was bleeding. It's not supposed to."

He didn't know how he knew that, but he was convinced of it.

"Is it your name as well, then? Beloved? Your... 'true name'?"

He wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but it felt important.

He rummaged in the first aid kit to find some clean bandages. Whateverhad cuased the lood there, it didn't appear there was a wound, really. Very strange.

"No one believes me when I tell them this is my name, you know? Even Fitz didn't believe me at first, and he of all people should know I do not lie."

Soubi hesitated briefly, watching 'Beloved' closely again. Curious how some of those words showed a knowledge only those who knew of the school would know. And yet he didn't know of the Beloved pair.

"It was supposed to hurt. I wanted it to."

Another brief pause before he shrugged his uninjured shoulder a little.

"I'm blank. I was given the name when I was given to Beloved." Given. A gift. A tool. A possession. But the tone would say loud and clear it had been with his cooperation.

His mouth twitched into a slight smile as he watched the other man search for bandages. "It only bleeds when I go against it."

It didn't matter that he didn't know who Fitz was. The implications did matter, and he paid attention to them.

"My given name is Soubi."

"You're blank because you're not letting the world around you show you how full you can be. I swear I keep running into people like you. It's like you can't see what is right under your nose."

He wrapped the bandages carefully around Soubi'a neck, almost tenderly and with the ease of someone used to doing this.

"You couldn't be Beloved if you were half as empty as you've convinced yourself you are."

He surveyed his handiwork and nodded once, satisfied.

"Now show me your hand. And who is this other 'Beloved' you were given to? How many of us are there?"

How to respond to such words? They made no sense in what he knew to be true. What had always been true for him. The care and familiarity with wrapping another's neck was noted but dismissed as only a little relevant. The guy might be a doctor, at that.

So he didn't respond to being told he could be so much more.

"I'm not Beloved anymore. I was given to Loveless when Beloved's Sacrifice died." Well. Close enough to the truth that he didn't care to tell the whole truth.

And he did finally hold up the mangled and pierced hand, forcing his arm to move and bend when it really wanted to stay motionless and limp.

"There's a Beloved Fighter out there who hasn't shown up yet." He'd just mentioned the Sacrifice.

Beloved started on the makeshit bandages on the hand. That wound was much more serious. There was torn flesh and muscles and tendons here.

He seemed to be listening intently to Soubi's every word, but when the manw as finished, he looke dup at him and smiled.

"I have no idea what you are talking about. Fighter, Sacrifice... I have a feeling you do not put the same weight behind those words as I do. And you've probably never heard of a Catalyst."

He decided to forgo using the washcloth and simply grabbed the basin of hot water, gently directing Soubi to soak his hand in it.

"Whatever you call a Fighter, I don't think this is what I am. I'm really not very good at fighting. I hold my own, but that's it, really."

He looked at the blood seeping out of the wound into the water. He'd have to change the water and maybe add some antiseptic to it. That would sting, but ti probably wouldn't be a problem for Soubi, from what he'd gathered. But far be it from him to take from someone's self-inflicted punishment.

"From Beloved to Loveless.... and yet someone loves you. Can't you feel it?"

He knew sometimes it was hard for him to put what he meant, felt and saw into words. It never really made sense for other people. Beign a prophet was annoying like that. Especially when you got inklings about things you yourself knew nothing about.

Edited 2014-12-07 16:53 (UTC)

((Ritsuka helping Soubi, Soubi helping Ritsuka, or the both of them being hurt because they're both dumb like that?))

[Oh choices! ...Both of them being hurt. XD They're just that ridiculous.]

[Ritsuka didn't usually leave his mother alone, during her fits. He didn't want her to break down and feel abandoned, he loved her a lot, so he would stay regardless of how much she beat him.

Today, however, his father came home from being ill at work. And with his father present and stopping his mother's fuss, as he asked her to help him instead, Ritsuka finally heeded his mother's screaming to get out of the house, even if he was quite bruised and scalded from a pot of hot water splashed on him. Because nowadays, he did have somewhere else he could go. Seimei couldn't protect him any more, but Soubi would.

With the hand that wasn't burned, he texted Soubi, unaware of whatever his Fighter was up to that day.]

are you home?

[For once Soubi had managed to get home after the latest battle without needing any help. Injured, yes. Of course he was. And it had been slow going, but he managed on his own.

But when it came down to dressing some of the wounds, he just stopped, shoulders slumping a little with a long quiet breath. His eyes were closed when he heard his cell beep to tell him he had a new text. Sliding down to the ground, he stares at the text for a long minute.

Ritsuka didn't ask for no reason. But he'd be angry...Again.]

Yes. Hungry?

[Because he'd make himself cook if Ritsuka wanted anything. Go through all the hoops he needed to, but this time he wouldn't shove him away. Selfishly he wanted to be punched for being stupid.]

not really. are you doing homework, is it ok if I come over?

[Ritsuka isn't entirely sure why he asks, because he knows that Soubi would never tell him no.

...Well, no. Sometimes he did do that, when he wanted to hide something. And in that case, he'll want to find out what Soubi is hiding, anyway. Even if he might get a text response to the previous question, he sends his next text fairly quickly.]

I got kicked out.

[He almost wilted over at the reply. And the second. Irony at his awareness of what Ritsuka would do if he said to not come over twisted his lips before he went and stretched out on the floor right where he'd slumped.

It was easier, and harder at the same time.]

Hot chocolate will be ready by the time you get here.

[If he could stand in time.

No, he would. He had to, to at least keep one promise.]

[No teasing, no cute emojis, nothing that meant that Soubi was in a good mood. Ritsuka stared at the phone as he walked, wondering what was wrong. Was he worried about Seimei, again? Sad, and feeling abandoned like before? Though, didn't Soubi usually come running to him when he was like that...

He wearily knocks on the door when he finally gets there, and tests the doorknob. He rubs his hand against the shiner on his face, which was swelling up and making his vision blurry on one side.]

Soubi?

[Distracted. Empty. Conflicted on everything.

But Ritsuka needed him, and that was what mattered. The phone lay forgotten on a table by the time the knock came, and the kettle just starting to whistle as the battered Fighter opened the door with the usual smile. So painfully a mask, but that wasn't unusual for him.

A mask that fell away at the sight of the black eye and swelling cheek.]

...Let's get some ice on that.

[As if he's not in worse shape. Only somewhat covered up and hidden by a fresh shirt, and the usual way he stood, ignoring any injury. But he'd forgotten to do any actual bandaging up, and the first aid kit was still just beside the door.]

[Ritsuka gave a little half nod, but hesitated after a moment.]

...Is that blood? Did you cut yourself?

[He could smell blood, he knew that smell pretty well. A frown immediately crossed his face, and he looked up at Soubi.]

[Soubi also hesitated before shrugging a shoulder a little. As if that motion didn't send pain through him.]

It's alright Ritsuka.

[Right back to the norm for him. He turned away to quiet the kettle as it was starting to grate on his nerves. Just enough to use it as an excuse to not look at Ritsuka as he just knew the boy would find the kit and realize he was right.]

Nothing to worry about.

You're lying to me again! Did you get in a fight?

[He's so frustrated, he can't believe that this has happened again. He doesn't want to grab at Soubi's arm and make him spill the kettle (they don't both need to have burns all over their arms), but he does grip the back of Soubi's shirt, tugging on it demandingly.]

Why didn't you call me?? What's your reason, this time?

[Again and again and again. How much more could Ritsuka handle before he discarded Soubi just as everyone else had? He felt the demand in that grip, but carefully kept working. Poured the water into mugs and stirred.]

You didn't need to get involved. So I didn't call you.

Why? Did you get in another fight? Of course I'd want to be involved, you got hurt! Didn't I order you to tell me??

[Ritsuka shouts, blinking a bit from feeling lightheaded but powering through with his anger and willpower. He can't believe that it's happened again, that Soubi wouldn't trust him with something like this.]

[Soubi froze at that, at the reminder. Waited a moment, half hopeful. But the punishment didn't come, and his shoulders slumped a little. He abruptly turned, leaving the cups behind, and sank down to the ground. Reaching out to rest hands on Ritsuka's waist, he looked up at the boy.]

Then punish me for disobeying. I was bad, and deserve nothing less.

No! I'm not going to punish you!

[Ritsuka immediately got onto his knees to be on level ground with him. He didn't want to stare down at Soubi.]

Quit telling me to do that! I'm never going to raise a hand to you!

[He was disappointed, but not surprised. So tired of being directionless, clinging desperately to the last orders Seimei had driven into him. Soubi let his hands drop, ignoring the pain that flickered up through abused arms. He deserved the pain for being an idiot and so careless.]

Why?

[It was simply hard for him to understand, let alone accept.]

You know why.

[Ritsuka looked for the injuries, unbuttoning Soubi's shirt to find them.]

Who did this? Who did you fight?

[Soubi frowned but let his head tip back to rest, arms limp at his sides. There was simply no energy left, even if there was any point in hiding the wounds any further. Ritsuka would find his side was a bit of a mess, and it really was rather surprising he'd stood as long as he had. And slices along shoulder, along with a clear few stabs.

Wounds that showed he'd not actually defended himself. Again.]

Doesn't matter. It's over.

It does matter! Did you kill them? Did you run away?

[He flinched at the second question. Did Ritsuka really think...? Soubi's eyes closed, frown deepening. When he spoke next, his tone was colder than normal.]

I don't kill without orders.

...I believe you. I trust you, Soubi. But why did you let yourself get this hurt? You know I hate that!

[...He was an idiot. Soubi bowed his head, shoulders slumping as a sigh escaped. The chill seeped out of his voice.]

You know why.

I don't get it. I don't need to be hidden away from all of that. I don't need to be locked up and sheltered, I want to know the truth. Even if it's just a fight, you shouldn't be all alone.

[Ritsuka tries to get the bandages out, intending to start the bandaging at least somewhat.]

I'm not alone now.

[Soubi dared to look at Ritsuka again, following his movements curiously.]

Am I not allowed to protect you?

That's not the point! I can fight. Aren't I your Sacrifice?

[Seimei clicks his tongue softly as Soubi falls to his knees in the dirt. He had won the fight (it wasn't close, it never is), but it's their third in a day and he had ordered Soubi not to sleep for the last two nights. A punishment for something - he doesn't remember what, but he does remember the almost imperceptible tremble in Soubi's hands when he gave the order.]

Get up.

[It's a cold night. Seimei tugs up his scarf and stares at the back of Soubi's head.]

[Another win for Seimei. Worked hard on no sleep, but it was what he deserved. What he'd done didn't matter, it never did. The results were what did, and he'd proven he could handle anything thrown at him and come out on top if his Sacrifice demanded it of him. Even exhausted he'd made sure Seimei wasn't touched.

Even when he fought just to stand, that was what he was ordered to do. Suddenly furious with himself and his weakness, and terrified he'd be left behind if he didn't, Soubi's hands clenched to hide the trembling as much as he could, and he shoved himself to his feet. And swayed as the world tilted before mostly settling as he closed his eyes for a moment, arms rigidly held at his sides and head still bowed.

He would not fall.]

[Seimei waits. To any other person he might look nonchalant, bored even, but there is a flash of something in his eyes when he sees the dirt staining Soubi's trousers.

If he had the intention of praising Soubi (and he does, sometimes, because although Soubi can find morsels of approval in silence and even violence, giving Soubi the hope that perhaps he can have something more is power for Seimei) it's gone now.]

We're going to the store.

[He slips his hands into the pockets of his coat and starts walking towards the lights of the town. They are on the outskirts, an abandoned plot of land that was meant to be developed years ago.]

[Dirty and bloody. In that, he'd failed miserably. So part of his punishment was to be led around as he was.

...Unless... Seimei planned to get medical supplies. But he forced himself not to count too highly on that this time. He didn't deserve it. Soubi unclenched a hand and shoved at hair to brush it out of his eyes a little more, and turned jerkily to follow without comment. He wasn't about to stay behind when Seimei had said 'we'. When Seimei wanted him to stay at his side.

He didn't let himself clutch at his injuries, and gradually was able to push them out of his mind for the most part. Only a slight limp gave away he wasn't in the best of shapes at the moment. He wasn't in too much danger, at that moment. A little longer. He could handle a little longer before tending his injuries.]

What do you want to get?

[He wanted to know, and it was with a quiet childish curiosity that he finally spoke up.]

[It was late enough that when they reached the streets there was no one there to observe them - a teenager with carefully held posture and the slightly hunched, limping man just behind him.

Soubi's question irritates him. So does the smell of damp soil.]

That isn't your concern. [The implication: Wrong. Don't speak again.

When they reach the convenience store on the corner near Soubi's apartment, he stops just outside.]

Do you think anyone wants to see you like this? [He tilts his head gently, feigning pity, before a flash of disgust crosses his face.] No, I don't think so. [The sliding doors of the store close behind him.]

[The sharp disapproval struck him silent, spiking anxiety and pain within him. Likely exactly how Seimei wanted. His eyes widened in dismay, but he stopped as well, watching his Sacrifice closely.

Useless. Pathetic. Disgusting. That's what he was.

What could he do to make up for-

Left behind. A door closed, taking Seimei from him. But he hadn't been told to go home, however close it was. So he stayed standing there, only one step to keep him out of the way, hands slowly crept into pockets and head hung.

He felt the cold of course, numbing body and mind into a blankness that made waiting just that much simpler. All that mattered was to stay standing. If Seimei didn't come out the way he'd gone in and left him waiting all night, he would.]

[Seimei is gone at least half an hour, closer to an hour. He has to make a call, and making it now has the incidental benefit of leaving Soubi outside, aching with cold and shame.

When he finally returns, he doesn't need to look to know Soubi is standing exactly as he left him. He is silent the rest of the short walk to the apartment.]

Tell me what you did wrong tonight. [Conversational. This is one of his favourite games. His key to Soubi's apartment clicks in the lock. Soubi belongs to him - everything Soubi owns also belongs to him.]

[He barely noticed the time, really. But his body noticed. It took more effort than he liked to get moving again, but he gave himself no option not to follow at Seimei's heels like the trained mutt he was.

Seimei wanted to punish him, and he knew just how to do it for the best effect. Of course everything Soubi technically owned was really Seimei's. There'd never been a doubt in his mind.

Command within that tone. His head didn't lift, he didn't have that right.]

I let myself get dirty. I asked... spoke when I had no right to.

[He thought that was all he'd done wrong. But even that was too much.]

Is that all? [His tone doesn't necessarily imply that there is anything else, only that he expects thoroughness from Soubi. It is a difficult game for Soubi to win - wrong changes from day to day. Wrong is whatever Seimei wants it to be. He is Soubi's god, so he is free to determine what is right and wrong.

He takes out a bowl and inspects it, holding it under the kitchen light. He hasn't had to punish Soubi for a long time for leaving anything anything in his apartment dirty. If he were to have commandments cleanliness would be the first, the most holy.]

Edited 2014-12-02 17:53 (UTC)

['Is that all?' Of course Seimei would ask that. Soubi was silent as he rolled the day over carefully as he watched the Sacrifice through his bangs. Him getting injured didn't matter, so did it count? No. It shouldn't. It was the fact he'd become dirty that mattered out of the injuries. And he'd spoken without permission.

Still, that all meant nothing if Seimei simply wanted him to be wrong. He wasn't worried about anything being found dirty in his apartment, not after being trained to avoid that very thing.]

...I was careless.

[He'd committed himself to that answer. Now to see if he was right.]

[There is a moment of silence, where Seimei looks like he is pondering Soubi's answer. Then he turns his back on him, and pulls out a can of soup.]

Take a shower.

[He looks over his shoulder with what looks like a gentle smile, though the coolness in his eyes make it clear that there is nothing gentle about it.]

Make sure you only use the hot water.

[Even when Seimei turned his back to him he kept silent, waiting motionlessly. The order had him start to turn immediately, only to pause at the look over a shoulder. Soubi let himself respond to the smile with one of his own, even though he knew it wasn't really a kind smile.

Only hot water. Get properly clean and miss nothing.

Stop being so disgustingly dirty, Soubi. No one wants to see you like that.

He nodded, knowing how even a shower could hurt. Just another punishment he'd bare silently, because he deserved it. If he could get through it and stay conscious, he'd be relieved. He made himself move as quickly as he could, did his best to track as little grime as he could along the way.

And tried not to take too terribly long in his task.]

[Seimei heats his soup, then pads to the bathroom door, tail flicking gently behind him. The shower is still running, steam seeping into the hallway under the door. He leans against the wall opposite the door and calls out:]

I think you'll need quite a while in there, Soubi. [He slips down to sit against the wall, taking a mouthful of soup.] Don't come out until I tell you to.

[Just because he'd been half done by the time Seimei came after him didn't mean much at all. Not with what the next order was.

So dirty.

Soubi briefly leaned against the shower wall, eyes closing before he forced himself to start again. Double checking to make sure there was no dirt left. There wasn't much he could do about the blood, but even that would slow and it would be easier to bandage once he was allowed out.

He'd still most likely have slipped to the floor by the time that happened, between sleepless nights and the battles. But he stayed put. The water kept running.]

[Seimei takes his time eating, uses it as the measure for when to let Soubi out of the shower. His mind wanders, he sends a few messages on his phone. By the time he calls out to Soubi again, a half hour has passed.]

That's enough. [He stands up and moves back to the kitchen, leaving his bowl and spoon for Soubi to clean.]

[She can fit in either role.]

(ooc: so i just remarathoned all three ee's and now i'm just all /give me all the lotr/. i have no idea how this would work but i would love to if you're open to cross canon)

[I am open to it! You know all about awesome Elvish healing, then, but I don't mind her being injured either.]

[Interested? We can blur timelines a little, haha. And he's probably the one getting injured here.]

[Very much so! She'd be happy to heal him.]

( either role. )

[The instigator ends up being, of all things, a cat. Stuck in a tree, none too friendly, and had thanked Shinjiro's assistance with nothing less than several claw scratches - drawing blood - across his left cheek and another through his sweater and down his neck before pouncing off into a dark alley shadow. The injuries aren't Tartarus-level but that doesn't make them any less welcome, and Shinjiro huffs a quick breath of irritation before heading back towards the dorm.

At least it's late.

With any luck no one'll be still awake and he can clean off in one of the bathrooms before heading to bed. But luck's never really been on his side, and as he walks towards the dorm he can see weak light filtering through the thick glass windows. So much for that.

Maybe it'll be Junpei or Yukari, one of the underclassmen he can tell off. They shouldn't be up so late anyway. He opens the door, steps in, and clicks it back closed.]

( most likely the one who's hurt. )

[ either role is fine. ]

[Could be either.]

minor injury meme.

Roland Deschain | Dark Tower | OTA

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Faramir | Lord of the Rings | OTA

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Time to get some Elven magic feels~

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Eren Jaeger-Attack on Titan

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