laography | 『 ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍs ᴛᴏ ʀʜʏᴍᴇs 』

[ has temenos always looked tired, beneath everything?

crick feels like he's gotten a better understanding of him, than the day that they first met. but he doesn't think he's gotten through every layer that makes him who he is. little bits and pieces, yes. little nuggets of information that temenos has deigned to share.

he's worried him, hasn't he? put unnecessary worries upon his already burdened shoulders. so slender as they are, it's a wonder that they can carry all that they do. all crick had wanted to do was help carry some of that burden, as he came to understand the reason for temenos' doubt, his mission, became all the more certain that he had to uphold true justice alongside his companion.

at least there was an answer. at least some part of this plot has been thwarted, even if the grandest parts of it still hang over their heads. ]

If you'd like some quiet time to yourself, Temenos, you need only say. [ a weak joke. ] How long have I already been asleep..?

Edited 2023-08-26 02:54 (UTC)

[ don't make jokes you dumb buff man

that being said, temenos' mouth twitches just slightly at the comment - it stings, a little, if only because of the reminder of what nearly happened, but it's only a little, and he gives a slight shake of his head. ]

A day or so. It's - [ a pause; he glances out of the window. ah. ] - near morning.

[ when did that happen. oops? oh well. it's fine. anyway!! ] I intend to guide you along a bit further with us, so you'd best save your strength. We'll be hunting down a cart in the morning to wheel you off whether you can stand or not, but I highly doubt it will be a ride in the lap of luxury.

I'm not here for luxury and glory.

[ quiet, for a moment after, crick closes his eyes and focuses on the noises of the inn so early in the morning, or the lack thereof. the tranquility before they return to the storm. because he might have been taken out, for a night, but he'll get back up on his feet. he'll listen to temenos, and ms. castti, and he'll ensure that he recovers, because kaldena must be stopped.

whatever she's part of must end. ]

Perhaps... perhaps then you should also get some rest, Temenos. [ has he even stopped, truly, since he found his mangled body? his fingers flex against the sheets of the bed as he opens his eyes again to look at the cleric that's been guiding him all this time. ] Even if you don't sleep.

Less about luxury and glory, and much more about you breaking open an injury and bleeding out while we're walking.

[ the very relaxed way he says this does not match the fact that he hates that idea, but it's much easier to joke about it, and it even comes with a quiet chuckle. it's entirely besides the point, but who would temenos be if he didn't poke a hole in statements of bright and shining faith and good character.

he's finally gathering together the feeling of magic in his veins - there's enough that he should be able to cast a heal wounds spell, now, and as temenos rises out of his chair to fetch the staff of judgement, crick speaks up again, and he pauses, fingers curling around the rod briefly. ]

Justice never sleeps, dear Crick. [ just as light and relaxed, as he shakes his head, and makes his way back over. ] I'll rest. [ eventually. castti is going to lecture him onto another planet if she finds out, but, what she doesn't know won't hurt her. ] Now, hold still.

[ justice never sleeps, he says. and crick had tried to stick to that. later, when he can think more properly, he'll dissect where he might have gone wrong in his first foray into lone breaking and entering on that night that he had decided to not let sleeping dogs lie. perhaps someone had overheard them. perhaps someone had tailed him, after he had bid good night to temenos.

not much that they can do about what's already happened, though. they'll just have to keep going forward.

gods, he has the chance to go forward. all because temenos found him in his moment of need, after having guided him as far as he has. he doesn't know what the future holds for him - especially with the doubts and questions that he's still navigating his way through - but he's ready to face it.

... well, he will be. once he's able to. ]

It's not as if I'm about to move anywhere, you know. [ weakly ] I am, once again, at your mercy, Temenos.

That's the spirit.

[ cheerful as ever - it comes with a smile this time, placid if the tiniest bit threatening. the tiniest. he lifts his staff, almost like it's a threat, almost like yes, yes crick wellsley is once again at his mercy, like this is an inquisition. it hovers briefly as he looks down at crick, expression unwavering...

and then he says: ] Repent.

[ and very, very gently bonks the staff against an uninjured place on his temple.

it's followed a moment later by a warm, pale green light that curls around crick to cast a healing wounds. for as much as he acts like a heretic, for as much as he seems to question and - well, doubt - the healing light of his spells are as warm as the sacred flame itself. ]

I - repent?

[ OH N

ever since they met at flamechurch, there have been ample opportunities for crick to see temenos be intimidating. after all, they've fought alongside each other, have dove into danger together, and he is the inquisitor. of course he would have to be threatening.

he is, truly, at his mercy.

his eye squints shut on the same side of the bonk, but of course it doesn't hurt. temenos is healing him, not harming him. and it is as warm and powerful as the sacred flame that burns before the church. no moment comes where crick doubts temenos, for all of his heretical commentary and own doubts.

(but he is a little fearful, for a moment. what sort of punishment is this man going to dole out upon him for being so reckless?) ]

[ no punishment comes beyond the singular bonk, though the staff of judgement stays firmly in its place on crick's forehead, and, he's right. no punishment comes... for now.

(no punishment will actually come, except for maybe more teasing than usual, and the occasional comment as a reminder that he ran off to do something reckless, snuck in among the usual, but that's besides the point.)

the healing spell stays to its completion- he focuses on it, lets the familiarity of white magic flood through his fingers, and only when it fades out does he pull the staff up and away from his head. he's still smiling, but, in the light, he does look tired. ]

Ruminate on what you've done, and say your prayers. [ such an inquisition, from the hound himself. he lifts the staff, and gives one more singular, soft bonk. ] Understood?

[ everything in him is filled with warmth, the weight of his wounds lifting just that bit more, the aches in his body soothed, the frayed edges brought that little bit closer. there's the feeling that he will need quite a bit of healing, just from a moment of wakefulness while being taken care of.

but looking up at temenos, he sees... more.

the second bonk brings him out of his staring, and he scrunches his eyes closed in mild surprise. but he shakes his head, just a little, to prevent himself from getting dizzy. ]

... understood. But. [ mustering the strength to move, crick hooks his fingers in the holy robes that adorn temenos' body. he gives the smallest of tugs. ] Temenos... please, rest.

[ the staff is removed off of crick's forehead, finally, as temenos considers his next move. sleep...maybe, if he can manage it, but more than likely - an hour or two to sit and think, to try and sort all of his thoughts out piece by piece and prepare for the final confrontation with kaldena.

he's not even really listening, already starting to make his way up and out, but the tug to teal fabric surprises him, snaps him out of it, and he glances back down.

... ]

...I will, [ he starts, and then continues, instead of ending the sentence there, raising an eyebrow. ] Are you implying something?

[ there was only one bed.png ]

[ he should really have expected this, though. ]

Temenos - must you have a comment for everything..? [ crick is so tired. why. ] Just...

[ there is only one bed, but he's willing to make room for him, even if it'll tire him out or likely hurt him as he does. but he does it regardless, using his elbows to replace the fact that his core strength would fail him right now. any pain that he feels, he swallows it down - and it's brief, anyways, a shift to the side and then more space is made.

hoo. even when training to become a knight, he'd never felt so tired before. ]

... you clearly need rest, too.

[ oh god he was serious ]

[ well, yes, he has to have a comment for everything, because he is temenos mistral, but he doesn't apparently have a comment as crick starts moving anyway. he gives crick a pointed look as he starts moving, threateningly readying his staff with his other hand, and the pointed look remains as crick scooches over, though it folds into something that looks more like really?

... he sighs. ]

...Honestly. This goodness and righteousness of yours is beginning to get to excessive levels of self destructive.

[ stop! hurting yourself!

and after a pause, temenos lays the staff against the wall, within grabbing reach, and eyes the small space he's left. he sits, first, near the foot of the bed, kicking his foot up over his knee so he can undo the laces on his brogues and take them off, because he's not a complete heathen, and shakes his head. dress shoes kicked off, eventually, very, very delicately - he shifts, lifting his knees and carefully slotting into the space that's been left behind, adjusting a little bit of the pillow so there's some space for his head.

thankfully, he's pretty small and generally bony, but it's still a tight fit - still, despite brushing him off, temenos is very, very careful not to aggravate or touch a single injury. ] You won't survive the night because Castti will come up here and kill me and you for this - forget the crows. Do not move.

[ you've met crick wellsley, right??? sincere to a fault??? means what he says at all times???

crick lets out a laugh that strains at the edges, peters off into a little wheeze because it works his diaphragm and twinges on his healing wounds. a part of him fears what he might look like beneath these bandages, but scars mean that he survived what he went through. that he stood up for what he believes in. that he will get to continue to do so, alongside temenos once more.

though, he tries not to think much on temenos, now, or at least in the present. he's only ever shared a bed with ort during training, and that was when they were in the field and lacking the space for an alternative option. this is much the same, but feels very, very different. not that he has the energy to really be embarrassed.

why does he feel like this? ]

I will do my best to not earn Ms. Castti's ire, especially with the work that the both of you put in to heal me. [ voice lowering a bit further, his eyes close.

when he next speaks, it's very nearly a whisper. but it's full of sincerity. ] ... thank you.

[ good!! suffer!!!

anyway. he is unaware of any internal plight that sweet crick is having about sharing a bed with the wizard (cleric) who cursed his entire life and also maybe his dick. he mostly is still thinking and trying not to hit any injuries on accident as he gets comfortable. it ends up that his knees are just lightly resting against crick's leg, but, whatever, he'll have to deal with it.

he is... not expecting a thank you. at all. (which is silly - he should be.) it throws temenos very briefly off guard again, in the very quiet stormhail inn room, in the dawning light of day, and he makes a very quiet - ] ...Mn.

[ acceptance, after a maybe slightly awkward pause. like he's trying for a real answer. ]

...Don't thank me yet. I've many more truths to uncover, and you will have many more metaphorical and literal doors to break down. The finale is yet at hand.

[ he does suffer!

still, crick doesn't react much to the knees against his leg, even if the intimacy is blatant, foreign. it's that strange place between comfortable and distracting. distracting enough, at least, that he doesn't notice the awkwardness, as exhaustion starts to bleed into him again. moving, speaking, simply being conscious - it's all so tiring.

but he still tries to speak to him now. ]

Perhaps we shall have less literal doors to break down... [ must they? he would much rather not resort to that sort of thing again, but. but. if it will get them their answers, then... ] Regardless, you will have my thanks, Temenos.

[ for your guidance. for saving him. for coming back safe. for closing the book on this chapter. thank you. ]

[ no, unfortunately, temenos is the only one who is the most conscious of this interaction, which means he gets to feel any faint hints of awkwardness to it - though, the sort of soul crushing tired of the past 24 hours does help with that. he's very, very good at repressing, and in the grand scheme of things, that tiny moment of 'hm well this is intimate' is small potatoes compared to an unending grief he's never spent a second processing, from roi's disappearance and moving on.

this was close. it was too close.

there's a small, soft noise, a faint hum of a laugh, and it comes with a smile as he slowly closes his eyes. ]

Those muscles have to be good for something. [ maybe he can settle. for a little while, at least, maybe his thoughts can slow down long enough that he can rest. it's not over, but it's - they're fine.

the dawn is coming. ]

Get some rest and be prepared to move in the morning. I'd rather not waste much more time so close to this particular murder.

[ as consciousness starts to weigh heavier and heavier, crick thinks to himself about how his muscles will be useless for some time. it twinges something in his chest that isn't a healing wound, a map of gnarled and darkened stabs and slashes across his torso that could have taken his life. instead, it's a little despair.

everything he's ever known, ever strived for, after having met roi... it's all gone. surely there are others in the sacred guard and the sanctum knights that were not corrupt, but the rot ran deeper than he ever could have guessed. and it had tried so hard to rip out the healthy roots, culling everything that brought attention to their machinations.

at least cubayri has been taken out of the equation. ]

... no, better to leave. I will do my best to not slow you and your companions down, Temenos.

[ ... hmm. something about that doesn't sit quite right. temenos is too perceptive to miss out on the subtleties of this reaction, the carelessly laced despair and self-loathing that comes in such a remark. he's the cleric, after all, the guiding light of flamechurch, and he's heard many a miserable soul say the same.

... hearing it from crick has a unique weight, though, in the context of his situation, and he presses his lips together, eyeing him for a moment where he's very carefully perched himself. ]

I hardly think that will be a problem. [ 'slowing them down'. and even if it were, it wouldn't matter. the other travelers nearly fell over themselves to make sure crick was taken care of, and still have. they supported temenos in ways he is so deeply thankful that he will never be able to repay them for, and now, they'll travel along to toto'haha together, as they have traveled this continent over and over before.

he makes the statement with finality. something crick can't argue with, even if there's no heat to it, as his gaze flicks back over his bandaged torso one more time, as he lifts a hand almost absently, to reach out and very lightly touch the back of his hand to his forehead. check for fever. pay attention to signs of infection. stay awake. ] We'll make for Toto'haha. And rest assured, if you're the type to be seasick, we will not stop for you at any moment, so you'll expel your insides over the side of the boat like the rest of us.

[ a joke, at least, lighter, to see if he might assuage that self despairing talk lightly, first. ]

[ trust temenos and his perception to snatch up something that he was trying to not focus too much on, himself, as his consciousness toys with the idea of more sleep. a rare, wry twist pulls at the corner of his mouth. caught. but it smooths out again as his eyes flick to his companion briefly, then close again as he feels the cool skin of temenos' hand against his own.

he's in the clear, at least for now. if there was a fever, it's broken for the time being, but there's still a warmth there that comes from having been feverish. but he still turns and presses into the touch almost unconsciously.

it's that strange, familiar yet foreign comfort again, the same that comes from temenos' knees pressed into the side of his leg. in his exhaustion, he wants to curl into it, into temenos, and cling onto that comfort.

like a lighthouse as a bastion of safety. ]

I've not done much seafaring, or even much travel by boat, but what little of it I have... [ the levity does draw him away from the quiet despair. the wry twist leaves, and is replaced by a quirk of a tired smile. ] I've not been seasick, but it could certainly change, crossing to Toto'haha. Farther than I've ever traveled, nevermind on water.

『 ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍs ᴛᴏ ʀʜʏᴍᴇs 』

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