Myrobalan Shivana (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
faithlikeaseed) wrote2019-08-01 12:00 am
faithlikeaseed) wrote2019-08-01 12:00 am
[Everett had needed to rush into Coven quarantine, after their... certain dinner date. The cult's escalating violence was clear, but the faun had been infected in the chaos of that night and missed the main party proper. He'd heard others chatting over it, as many more were coming in similarly infected. Having arrived before the worst of it, he's rather quick to be released properly. As dramatic as he is, they're not too keen to let him slip away before they're fully certain he's well, but glad to get him out of there as soon as is reasonable.
The faun is practically throwing himself into a carriage to get home. He's texting frantically into his newly recovered watch, hoping for a quick answer]
My Darling Myr, are you alright?
I've only just been let out of the sickward.
I'm coming home immediately. Do you know how Viren is? Or Hector?
And yourself!?
Sorry, I asked about you twice didn't I.
The faun is practically throwing himself into a carriage to get home. He's texting frantically into his newly recovered watch, hoping for a quick answer]
My Darling Myr, are you alright?
I've only just been let out of the sickward.
I'm coming home immediately. Do you know how Viren is? Or Hector?
And yourself!?
Sorry, I asked about you twice didn't I.
Edited 2021-02-17 05:22 (UTC)
That's what we're up to, [he affirms,] at the Coven's behest.
[None of Myr's own reasoning about getting Irhya into the Circle's good graces should make any sense to him--not a bit of it. But right now, it's so seamlessly coherent he hasn't any reason to question it.]
I do think it will, messere; thank you for the recommendation. Though--if it isn't too much trouble, should you happen to speak to her again soon--if you'd let her know she has an opening?
[like lahabrea's gonna do that
He then makes a troubled little laugh at the Ascian's warning.] Trust me that I do--getting infected once was enough of a lesson I never miss a check. Maker forfend I have to go through that again.
[None of Myr's own reasoning about getting Irhya into the Circle's good graces should make any sense to him--not a bit of it. But right now, it's so seamlessly coherent he hasn't any reason to question it.]
I do think it will, messere; thank you for the recommendation. Though--if it isn't too much trouble, should you happen to speak to her again soon--if you'd let her know she has an opening?
[
He then makes a troubled little laugh at the Ascian's warning.] Trust me that I do--getting infected once was enough of a lesson I never miss a check. Maker forfend I have to go through that again.
If we cross paths.
{Which is to say they won't; he doesn't go looking for her company at all but it isn't entirely a lie, there was a possibility of it!
Just a very, very small one. One he'll allow for, because it's reasonable to do in this situation.}
...Ah, you've done that before then? What did you experience?
{Which is to say they won't; he doesn't go looking for her company at all but it isn't entirely a lie, there was a possibility of it!
Just a very, very small one. One he'll allow for, because it's reasonable to do in this situation.}
...Ah, you've done that before then? What did you experience?
[From the half-conscious noise of dismay Myr makes at the question--not a rejection, just a reaction--he experienced nothing good.
(Also, Lahabrea's question awakens an echo of having answered this same one for Viren not so long ago--and how disturbing that was.
For whatever reason he can't hold on to that memory long, nor share it.)]
I was bitten by an infected Merrow a year and a half ago--on our way to Dorchacht. It hurt a damn sight more than any wound that small should've, even after they cauterized it; the sailors didn't have a dedicated healer on board and their, ah, sawbones said he couldn't get all the infection out.
If I'd had my druthers I'd've waited to get back to Aefenglom to have it seen to. I don't know if you know much of Dorchacht's history, messere, but this was while they still treated Monsters as dangerous slaves, and I didn't want their Coven touching me. But the pain worsened so rapidly I was afraid to lose the arm--no matter how small the wound--and so I let them treat it.
[That, also, was not pleasant but the way he stops there suggests he's not going to discuss said treatment further without being asked.]
Thinking back on it, it's the fear of the infection that was worse than the pain. We've got a plague back on Thedas that's very like the Cwyld in ways, [too many,] and anyone who'd been bitten as bad as I was would die of it. Or worse.
(Also, Lahabrea's question awakens an echo of having answered this same one for Viren not so long ago--and how disturbing that was.
For whatever reason he can't hold on to that memory long, nor share it.)]
I was bitten by an infected Merrow a year and a half ago--on our way to Dorchacht. It hurt a damn sight more than any wound that small should've, even after they cauterized it; the sailors didn't have a dedicated healer on board and their, ah, sawbones said he couldn't get all the infection out.
If I'd had my druthers I'd've waited to get back to Aefenglom to have it seen to. I don't know if you know much of Dorchacht's history, messere, but this was while they still treated Monsters as dangerous slaves, and I didn't want their Coven touching me. But the pain worsened so rapidly I was afraid to lose the arm--no matter how small the wound--and so I let them treat it.
[That, also, was not pleasant but the way he stops there suggests he's not going to discuss said treatment further without being asked.]
Thinking back on it, it's the fear of the infection that was worse than the pain. We've got a plague back on Thedas that's very like the Cwyld in ways, [too many,] and anyone who'd been bitten as bad as I was would die of it. Or worse.
[Myr's own infection hadn't required quarantine but he hadn't been any happier to have it treated given it involved blood. He'd tried to stick around the hospital--at least two of his Bonded were there, after all, and he didn't know that L hadn't been delivered to it after the chaos he'd gotten from that Bond the previous night--but the last thing any of the healers needed was a frantic Faun underfoot after a mass-casualty event, and he'd been kicked out.
Somehow, Crookytail had been there waiting for him, and somehow he'd gotten home to...one of the houses he spent his nights in. He wasn't even sure which one it was, nor which bed he'd collapsed into when all his nervous energy finally gave out and he fell into the sleep of the profoundly exhausted.
The watch's chiming still managed to wake him up within minutes. His answer's a little slow in coming given he knocked the thing onto the floor in his haste to answer and had to remember how to get it to read a message to him.]
dearheart you're out thank the Maker
I'm
[He has no idea if he's all right. All of his Bonded were hurt. Something was still wrong with his mind.]
last I knew Viren was stable and I think I heard they had Hector in treatment but I don't know more
have you eaten??
Somehow, Crookytail had been there waiting for him, and somehow he'd gotten home to...one of the houses he spent his nights in. He wasn't even sure which one it was, nor which bed he'd collapsed into when all his nervous energy finally gave out and he fell into the sleep of the profoundly exhausted.
The watch's chiming still managed to wake him up within minutes. His answer's a little slow in coming given he knocked the thing onto the floor in his haste to answer and had to remember how to get it to read a message to him.]
dearheart you're out thank the Maker
I'm
[He has no idea if he's all right. All of his Bonded were hurt. Something was still wrong with his mind.]
last I knew Viren was stable and I think I heard they had Hector in treatment but I don't know more
have you eaten??
Information on Dorchacht is rather hard to come by. If everyone knows about it why keep records, that sort of annoyance.
[He's heard very, very little about it. Who talks about a neighboring city as if it's something strange and unusual when everyone already knows about it and what happens there?
Likely if monsters were seen as little better than slaves, any such procedure would have been unpleasant to downright excruciating.. but apparently it worked.]
No matter their methods, which I imagine were crude at best, it seems it worked for you are not a shade. .. I am told my sort of beast is especially susceptible to it, and must endure frequent examinations for it. This infection hurt, clearly, but was there more than that to tell you it was a terrible thing? The smell of infection, or blood poison?
[These are personal things and he knows it, and there were little skips and hesitations that make him wonder, but surely this one can't be anything of undue outside influence..]
Do forgive me if I seem to be prying a bit. This vessel is depressingly subject to the frailties of mortal existence, disease among them. Knowing what to watch for beyond the dry 'dark spots' offered by the Coven is not.. particularly helpful.
[He's heard very, very little about it. Who talks about a neighboring city as if it's something strange and unusual when everyone already knows about it and what happens there?
Likely if monsters were seen as little better than slaves, any such procedure would have been unpleasant to downright excruciating.. but apparently it worked.]
No matter their methods, which I imagine were crude at best, it seems it worked for you are not a shade. .. I am told my sort of beast is especially susceptible to it, and must endure frequent examinations for it. This infection hurt, clearly, but was there more than that to tell you it was a terrible thing? The smell of infection, or blood poison?
[These are personal things and he knows it, and there were little skips and hesitations that make him wonder, but surely this one can't be anything of undue outside influence..]
Do forgive me if I seem to be prying a bit. This vessel is depressingly subject to the frailties of mortal existence, disease among them. Knowing what to watch for beyond the dry 'dark spots' offered by the Coven is not.. particularly helpful.
[The chaos of the Circle's implosion and all that occurred during it has had L laid up for the past few days. He hasn't seen Myr, knowing that there's much going on with his other Bonded, but they'd brushed up against one another fondly over the network post of an arrogant newcomer... and then gone cold, perhaps due to L's uncanny talent for pinching exposed nerves.
Provided they love you in good faith, of course.
Not everyone gets to be kind. Not everyone gets to love kindly, leaving L to do it his brusque and productive way. After giving it what feels like an appropriate amount of time to cool off (as if he's capable of measuring such things accurately), of course.
He's breathless by the time he makes it to Myr's cottage; though the walk is short, a habitual practitioner of blood magic probably isn't the best candidate to get his side slashed open by a marauding shade. He's still pale, slow and anemic, but he's here, and able, and it is time to set some neglected things right. Whether or not Myr is loved by others in good faith, there's no other way the faun seems able to love, at least from L's perspective. That shouldn't be condemned; that should be protected, and the man who grasps always for use and purpose has found a niche for the next span of time, however long it's needed.
When he knocks, it's a formality. He'll enter if bidden, or wait, if Myr has perhaps grown more wary about who he lets in, and when, and why. Their Bond, at least, is a tether to hold onto, some hint as to who is haunting the doorstep.]
Provided they love you in good faith, of course.
Not everyone gets to be kind. Not everyone gets to love kindly, leaving L to do it his brusque and productive way. After giving it what feels like an appropriate amount of time to cool off (as if he's capable of measuring such things accurately), of course.
He's breathless by the time he makes it to Myr's cottage; though the walk is short, a habitual practitioner of blood magic probably isn't the best candidate to get his side slashed open by a marauding shade. He's still pale, slow and anemic, but he's here, and able, and it is time to set some neglected things right. Whether or not Myr is loved by others in good faith, there's no other way the faun seems able to love, at least from L's perspective. That shouldn't be condemned; that should be protected, and the man who grasps always for use and purpose has found a niche for the next span of time, however long it's needed.
When he knocks, it's a formality. He'll enter if bidden, or wait, if Myr has perhaps grown more wary about who he lets in, and when, and why. Their Bond, at least, is a tether to hold onto, some hint as to who is haunting the doorstep.]
Edited 2021-02-24 04:09 (UTC)
It's unlocked.
[Ordinarily, Myr would be up to get the door; ordinarily, he'd have been on his hooves to do so the instant he felt L's end of their Bond near his cottage with intent.
But today is not an ordinary one, and he simply isn't feeling much like moving. Or doing much of anything but trying, fruitlessly, to sleep and let the world pass him by. Oh--he's been going through the necessary motions of daily life, enough to keep body and soul together, to maintain his hives and keep Crookytail fed lest she start eating the furniture. Enough, barely, to convince people he doesn't need anyone worrying about him--he's just exhausted and shaken as they all have been by the Circle's collapse, and still recovering from injuries taken freeing Viren.
He even has himself halfway convinced: This is just a species of battle-shock and soon enough, he'd be back in his right mind. Soon enough his mood would stabilize. Until then, he just had to keep moving...
He had meant to go over to apologize to L sooner than this. He'd meant to do a lot of things sooner than this, like reaching out to the people he'd gotten kidnapped and making proper amends for his mistakes. But just like soon enough, sooner than hasn't seemed to materialize and so it's fallen to L to come seek him out and apologize for something Myr knows he really shouldn't have recoiled from. Shouldn't have hurt another person with his own injuries.
Shouldn't have done so much that was already, irrevocably done and gone beyond changing.
The door is, as he said, unlocked. Another thing he shouldn't be doing, when a Naga might exploit that weakness to crawl through it at any time, but caring about that is hard. Caring about a lot of things is hard right now: Exactly how hard's readily apparent when L walks through the door. The Faun's curled up in a chair in the sitting room, bundled up in one of his garish quilts in the middle of a lone, wan sunbeam through the windows.
It catches in the hair coming loose in a cloud from his ordinarily tidy braid.]
[Ordinarily, Myr would be up to get the door; ordinarily, he'd have been on his hooves to do so the instant he felt L's end of their Bond near his cottage with intent.
But today is not an ordinary one, and he simply isn't feeling much like moving. Or doing much of anything but trying, fruitlessly, to sleep and let the world pass him by. Oh--he's been going through the necessary motions of daily life, enough to keep body and soul together, to maintain his hives and keep Crookytail fed lest she start eating the furniture. Enough, barely, to convince people he doesn't need anyone worrying about him--he's just exhausted and shaken as they all have been by the Circle's collapse, and still recovering from injuries taken freeing Viren.
He even has himself halfway convinced: This is just a species of battle-shock and soon enough, he'd be back in his right mind. Soon enough his mood would stabilize. Until then, he just had to keep moving...
He had meant to go over to apologize to L sooner than this. He'd meant to do a lot of things sooner than this, like reaching out to the people he'd gotten kidnapped and making proper amends for his mistakes. But just like soon enough, sooner than hasn't seemed to materialize and so it's fallen to L to come seek him out and apologize for something Myr knows he really shouldn't have recoiled from. Shouldn't have hurt another person with his own injuries.
Shouldn't have done so much that was already, irrevocably done and gone beyond changing.
The door is, as he said, unlocked. Another thing he shouldn't be doing, when a Naga might exploit that weakness to crawl through it at any time, but caring about that is hard. Caring about a lot of things is hard right now: Exactly how hard's readily apparent when L walks through the door. The Faun's curled up in a chair in the sitting room, bundled up in one of his garish quilts in the middle of a lone, wan sunbeam through the windows.
It catches in the hair coming loose in a cloud from his ordinarily tidy braid.]
[The latch gives, and L steps inside, taking stock of his surroundings. Crookytail is there to nudge her velvety nose against his hand, and the normally orderly home is... still orderly, just perhaps a bit less so than usual. L notices a chair in a spot Myr usually keeps clear to avoid stumbling, and he steps over to move it. He might feel see-through, since losing so much blood, but he still casts a visible shadow, still has the strength to move a chair.
As he does so, he glances toward the sitting room's doorway, notices the quilt that's managed to tangle a faun up in it.]
I thought I should apologize.
[Regardless of who's at fault, Myr usually takes this step first. L figures it's his turn. Besides, there is one way he's fallen notably short in their Bond; he hasn't yet done what he'd promised he would.]
Let me set things right... finally. I'm sorry you've had to wait this long for me to learn.
[Pulling away that hypnosis, if needed. Going after the culprit, but later. For now, the focus belongs on the one who needs a gentler and subtler touch.]
As he does so, he glances toward the sitting room's doorway, notices the quilt that's managed to tangle a faun up in it.]
I thought I should apologize.
[Regardless of who's at fault, Myr usually takes this step first. L figures it's his turn. Besides, there is one way he's fallen notably short in their Bond; he hasn't yet done what he'd promised he would.]
Let me set things right... finally. I'm sorry you've had to wait this long for me to learn.
[Pulling away that hypnosis, if needed. Going after the culprit, but later. For now, the focus belongs on the one who needs a gentler and subtler touch.]
[Myr's ears twitch at the sound of the chair being moved. He thinks he knows which one that is, and that he'd left it out of place, and it provokes a twist of guilt along with the gratitude to hear L reposition it.]
You didn't know, [he says, quietly, to the apology.] That it would hurt that much; I didn't know. It wasn't your fault.
[A pause ensues, and he huddles down further in the quilt. Very little of his pain recently was L's fault and it's selfish and awful of him to flinch from those tiny pieces that are, hurting them both. But he can't seem to help it, any more than someone could help recoiling from a hot stove.
Quieter, still,] It's forgiven. And--you--needn't be sorry about that. You had larger things occupying your time.
[Saving people. Some of them people Myr's own foolishness had imperiled. Though even in his current mood that level of self-pity--in the face of the Bonded who's come back to him with every intent of helping him--evokes a frisson of self-despite, and he pushes himself to sit up a little taller.
Manages somehow to find a smile and lift his ears a little.] But I am glad you're here--though I don't know--I'm sure this will pass, now that Circle's dealt with and everyone's back safe.
[Which sounds like he's undermining L's efforts, doesn't it? Stupid, stupid. He cringes a little at himself and pushes on,] But I will sleep easier, [he hasn't been sleeping much at all,] to know there's nothing else clouding my mind.
You didn't know, [he says, quietly, to the apology.] That it would hurt that much; I didn't know. It wasn't your fault.
[A pause ensues, and he huddles down further in the quilt. Very little of his pain recently was L's fault and it's selfish and awful of him to flinch from those tiny pieces that are, hurting them both. But he can't seem to help it, any more than someone could help recoiling from a hot stove.
Quieter, still,] It's forgiven. And--you--needn't be sorry about that. You had larger things occupying your time.
[Saving people. Some of them people Myr's own foolishness had imperiled. Though even in his current mood that level of self-pity--in the face of the Bonded who's come back to him with every intent of helping him--evokes a frisson of self-despite, and he pushes himself to sit up a little taller.
Manages somehow to find a smile and lift his ears a little.] But I am glad you're here--though I don't know--I'm sure this will pass, now that Circle's dealt with and everyone's back safe.
[Which sounds like he's undermining L's efforts, doesn't it? Stupid, stupid. He cringes a little at himself and pushes on,] But I will sleep easier, [he hasn't been sleeping much at all,] to know there's nothing else clouding my mind.
[He didn't know; maybe he should have. It's strange when dynamics shift this way, perhaps; he's wanted Myr to see him differently for awhile, but is it bothering his Bonded to have to rely on him? Does it feel, perhaps, like a new low bar?]
Different things. Not larger.
[Time had pressed them, what was at stake had momentarily shifted, but Myr was always a priority. Naga or no, hypnotism or no, unwise hospitality or no. L owes a lot to Myr's generosity towards unsavory types far more obvious than Jin Guangyao.]
You will. You'll sleep like you haven't in weeks.
[He agrees, pulling up a chair, stepping out of his boots so he can sit in a way he's more comfortable without sullying Myr's upholstery. He uses his foot to gently nudge Crookytail away from one of the steel-toed shoes, which she has started to draw into her mouthparts.]
I can clear it, like I have before, if he's gotten to you again. This time, though... I think that I can also guard you against it. Like rubbing some soap on the surface of glass to keep it from fogging... and if there's anything damaged or that you've come to doubt, we're Bonded, and I know you well enough that it should be an easy fix.
Different things. Not larger.
[Time had pressed them, what was at stake had momentarily shifted, but Myr was always a priority. Naga or no, hypnotism or no, unwise hospitality or no. L owes a lot to Myr's generosity towards unsavory types far more obvious than Jin Guangyao.]
You will. You'll sleep like you haven't in weeks.
[He agrees, pulling up a chair, stepping out of his boots so he can sit in a way he's more comfortable without sullying Myr's upholstery. He uses his foot to gently nudge Crookytail away from one of the steel-toed shoes, which she has started to draw into her mouthparts.]
I can clear it, like I have before, if he's gotten to you again. This time, though... I think that I can also guard you against it. Like rubbing some soap on the surface of glass to keep it from fogging... and if there's anything damaged or that you've come to doubt, we're Bonded, and I know you well enough that it should be an easy fix.
[Though Jin Guangyao is hardly in a good mood, he shows the world only his usual faint smile, slithering as quickly as he can through the chill weather. It's been an unusually slow start to the day, considering his Bonded's absence and the sun still late to rise.
Things may have gotten out of control, further than he (or anyone in the Evergreen Circle, clearly) had anticipated. Though other problems are... not so easily solved... his touch has been light outside of the issues with Lan Xichen. But it was a touch nonetheless, and one that should be tidied up as quickly as possible, now that the Circle is broken and his own plans had been fragmented just as quickly.
That faint smile fades to a more sincere, apologetic look as he slides up to Myr's doorway to knock. Not that the faun will see it, but such things carry into one's voice.]
Things may have gotten out of control, further than he (or anyone in the Evergreen Circle, clearly) had anticipated. Though other problems are... not so easily solved... his touch has been light outside of the issues with Lan Xichen. But it was a touch nonetheless, and one that should be tidied up as quickly as possible, now that the Circle is broken and his own plans had been fragmented just as quickly.
That faint smile fades to a more sincere, apologetic look as he slides up to Myr's doorway to knock. Not that the faun will see it, but such things carry into one's voice.]
[The days following the Circle's fall have not been kind to Myr.
He had--mostly--recovered physically from the injuries he'd taken rescuing Viren. He was--ostensibly--free from any lingering compulsion left on him. (L's description of how light a touch was involved in setting it did little to ease his mind and much to amplify his own guilt over his complicity in what had happened.)
But the full horror of what he'd enabled won't leave him, nor can he ignore it--quite the opposite, as he spends the hours he'd otherwise be sleeping (and suffering nightmares) trying frantically to learn the fates of those the Circle had taken. Tried to think of what he could do, if anything, to make restitution to those his own sense of duty tell him he betrayed.
He is in the middle of one such fruitless attempt--really not even an attempt anymore, really just pacing a circle around and around the cottage with his watch clutched in one hand--when the sound of scales sliding over the front walk freezes him in place. That had been a sound he associated with pleasant conversations in the garden, once.
No longer.
The knock makes his tail flag with unconscious alarm; he clutches his watch the tighter, then stalks stiff-legged toward the door, retrieving his staff on the way.]
Is that you, Guangyao?
[If the dropped pretense of politeness doesn't give him away, the barely leashed tension in his voice surely will.]
He had--mostly--recovered physically from the injuries he'd taken rescuing Viren. He was--ostensibly--free from any lingering compulsion left on him. (L's description of how light a touch was involved in setting it did little to ease his mind and much to amplify his own guilt over his complicity in what had happened.)
But the full horror of what he'd enabled won't leave him, nor can he ignore it--quite the opposite, as he spends the hours he'd otherwise be sleeping (and suffering nightmares) trying frantically to learn the fates of those the Circle had taken. Tried to think of what he could do, if anything, to make restitution to those his own sense of duty tell him he betrayed.
He is in the middle of one such fruitless attempt--really not even an attempt anymore, really just pacing a circle around and around the cottage with his watch clutched in one hand--when the sound of scales sliding over the front walk freezes him in place. That had been a sound he associated with pleasant conversations in the garden, once.
No longer.
The knock makes his tail flag with unconscious alarm; he clutches his watch the tighter, then stalks stiff-legged toward the door, retrieving his staff on the way.]
Is that you, Guangyao?
[If the dropped pretense of politeness doesn't give him away, the barely leashed tension in his voice surely will.]
[Different things. Not larger.
It is strange to have his own rhetoric mirrored back at him, to be treated with the solicitous care that he uses for others. Not because he didn't expect L capable of it; L had always had the capacity, as far as Myr was concerned, but simply wanted for practice. Nor was it anything to do with the quality of the man he found himself relying on, since he'd be the first to fight for his Witch's honor.
No, the strangeness is simply because Myr knows those are the words he'd use to someone in his position and yet he cannot use them on himself--nor forgive, nor console, his own wounded heart the same way he would L's were their positions reversed. The thought troubles his expression as he turns his face toward the sound of a chair being pulled up, and reaches a hesitant hand toward L from within his patchwork cocoon.
Doesn't actually lay hold on his Witch with his usual boldness, simply holds a hand out while trying to convince himself it would not go amiss if he did set it on L's leg.
L has not and will not reject him. But that's head-knowledge, not heart-knowledge.]
He hasn't, [he says, with unwonted vehemence,] gotten to me again. He--slithered by a few days ago and I turned him out; I want nothing to do with him. [Ah, fury, the first outward-directed emotion he's felt with any clarity in days. It should shame him, and it will, once the moment's passed.]
I've no idea whether he'll stay warned off, though; I'll take whatever protection you're offering.
[As for the rest of the help on offer... He hasn't words for what's been damaged or what he's come to doubt.
(Too busy pretending it will all heal on his own, that the guilt and the nightmares aren't getting worse rather than better.)]
It is strange to have his own rhetoric mirrored back at him, to be treated with the solicitous care that he uses for others. Not because he didn't expect L capable of it; L had always had the capacity, as far as Myr was concerned, but simply wanted for practice. Nor was it anything to do with the quality of the man he found himself relying on, since he'd be the first to fight for his Witch's honor.
No, the strangeness is simply because Myr knows those are the words he'd use to someone in his position and yet he cannot use them on himself--nor forgive, nor console, his own wounded heart the same way he would L's were their positions reversed. The thought troubles his expression as he turns his face toward the sound of a chair being pulled up, and reaches a hesitant hand toward L from within his patchwork cocoon.
Doesn't actually lay hold on his Witch with his usual boldness, simply holds a hand out while trying to convince himself it would not go amiss if he did set it on L's leg.
L has not and will not reject him. But that's head-knowledge, not heart-knowledge.]
He hasn't, [he says, with unwonted vehemence,] gotten to me again. He--slithered by a few days ago and I turned him out; I want nothing to do with him. [Ah, fury, the first outward-directed emotion he's felt with any clarity in days. It should shame him, and it will, once the moment's passed.]
I've no idea whether he'll stay warned off, though; I'll take whatever protection you're offering.
[As for the rest of the help on offer... He hasn't words for what's been damaged or what he's come to doubt.
(Too busy pretending it will all heal on his own, that the guilt and the nightmares aren't getting worse rather than better.)]
[L sits forward attentively, canting his head, considering the faun's reaction. He should be reassured; L himself is feeling quite confident, but... no, something else is amiss. It would have to be; he's never seen Myr this way, in spite of the wide spectrum of unguarded emotion he has seen from his Bonded.
He's about to gently say that Myr could well not know if Jin Guangyao had gotten to him again, but he continues, and it actually does sound like the case.]
I see... I'm glad. And he will stay warned off.
[There's a touch of frost to L's voice, hinting that he'll see to it. It thaws and gentles in his next words as he reaches out to press the heel of his hand against Myr's temple.]
Think to your last meeting anyway, if you would.
[Already, he can tell that it should be simple. Wisps of hypnosis, if that, so little that he might have simply failed to sweep up these shavings last time. He'll remedy that here and now, and be quick and clean about it.]
He's about to gently say that Myr could well not know if Jin Guangyao had gotten to him again, but he continues, and it actually does sound like the case.]
I see... I'm glad. And he will stay warned off.
[There's a touch of frost to L's voice, hinting that he'll see to it. It thaws and gentles in his next words as he reaches out to press the heel of his hand against Myr's temple.]
Think to your last meeting anyway, if you would.
[Already, he can tell that it should be simple. Wisps of hypnosis, if that, so little that he might have simply failed to sweep up these shavings last time. He'll remedy that here and now, and be quick and clean about it.]
[Normally such a dropping of formalities would be well viewed by Jin Guangyao, as being on a 'close' basis with a friend. But the tension in stance and tone in Myr's voice hardly implies that at all.
It's not a good sign, but his own voice remains soft and sympathetic, even as he pulls up the length of his snake-y bulk into a smooth back-and-forth curling zigzag.]
Yes, that's right. I stopped by to see how you were faring, with everything that happened. Would you mind if I came in for a moment?
[Because it's terribly cold out here, for a naga -- but also to get out of sight of anyone who might be watching, before making an effort to clear a few memories from the faun's mind.]
It's not a good sign, but his own voice remains soft and sympathetic, even as he pulls up the length of his snake-y bulk into a smooth back-and-forth curling zigzag.]
Yes, that's right. I stopped by to see how you were faring, with everything that happened. Would you mind if I came in for a moment?
[Because it's terribly cold out here, for a naga -- but also to get out of sight of anyone who might be watching, before making an effort to clear a few memories from the faun's mind.]
Yes.
[The word's nearly a growl; the stag in him minds so much he scrapes a hoof across the floor, his ears flattened to his neck.]
I mind.
You're not welcome here. Leave.
[The staff's surprisingly reassuring in his hand, held low and ready if the Naga should decide to...push the issue.]
[The word's nearly a growl; the stag in him minds so much he scrapes a hoof across the floor, his ears flattened to his neck.]
I mind.
You're not welcome here. Leave.
[The staff's surprisingly reassuring in his hand, held low and ready if the Naga should decide to...push the issue.]
[That scrape of hoof is enough for Jin Guangyao to reconsider his initial thought, of gently pushing his way in against a small amount of resistance. But in terms of appropriate response, it's not too hard to connect the dots, especially with a mind as quick as the naga's.]
I'm sure it's difficult to deal with, but I do want you to know that it's not as if I had any choice in what happened either.
But with the Evergreen Circle broken and those I know of out from under their spell... I really thought that we should at least speak a moment or two.
[Looking a little pathetic out in the cold isn't helpful when the one you're speaking with is blind, but at least he can project that sympathy further in his voice.]
I'm sure it's difficult to deal with, but I do want you to know that it's not as if I had any choice in what happened either.
But with the Evergreen Circle broken and those I know of out from under their spell... I really thought that we should at least speak a moment or two.
[Looking a little pathetic out in the cold isn't helpful when the one you're speaking with is blind, but at least he can project that sympathy further in his voice.]
[Well, that would be exculpatory evidence, wouldn't it? And the good faith Myr has trained himself to extend would mean accepting the Naga's word on it and letting him in and having a well-mannered discussion--
The thought sends ice down his spine, sets his heart racing. He grips his staff tighter.]
We can speak over the watches. Or with a witness. Until you bring me proof you were under compulsion, I will not be alone with you.
[A sudden, vicious little smile tugs up one corner of his mouth as a thought occurs; he can be useful to someone in all of this.]
My Witch is a diviner. He'd be happy to clear you.
The thought sends ice down his spine, sets his heart racing. He grips his staff tighter.]
We can speak over the watches. Or with a witness. Until you bring me proof you were under compulsion, I will not be alone with you.
[A sudden, vicious little smile tugs up one corner of his mouth as a thought occurs; he can be useful to someone in all of this.]
My Witch is a diviner. He'd be happy to clear you.
[Evading, bending the truth far enough that perhaps even a harpy might be led astray is something Jin Guangyao is willing to chance -- exactly where magic might take it is another matter. A diviner, he's less sure of, and Linden's speciality is duly noted.]
Isn't that going terribly far? Even if it hadn't been out of my hands, it wasn't such a big thing to have done, to help keep you safely out of affairs. And I truly did plan to help uncover the Circle's secrets. [You know. Eventually.] Even if everything spun out of control, there isn't any reason to mistrust my intentions now.
[It's tempting to directly bring the tickle of hypnotic magic to his lips, but even in the mostly empty street, it still seems a bit of a risk. Instead, he hopes the wording, that 'trust' might pull anything lingering back, to let him inside again.]
Isn't that going terribly far? Even if it hadn't been out of my hands, it wasn't such a big thing to have done, to help keep you safely out of affairs. And I truly did plan to help uncover the Circle's secrets. [You know. Eventually.] Even if everything spun out of control, there isn't any reason to mistrust my intentions now.
[It's tempting to directly bring the tickle of hypnotic magic to his lips, but even in the mostly empty street, it still seems a bit of a risk. Instead, he hopes the wording, that 'trust' might pull anything lingering back, to let him inside again.]
[This is convincing patter that he's heard before--different words, same tone, same rush to justify and twist Myr's native trust. Panic's begun to flutter in his pulse and put a sheen of cold sweat on the skin beneath his fur. notagainnotagainnotagain--
There isn't any reason to mistrust my intentions now, the Naga says, and Myr snarls,] Don't. Start.
Leave.
[This may be something he'll regret later, but at least his mind will be his own to regret it with.]
There isn't any reason to mistrust my intentions now, the Naga says, and Myr snarls,] Don't. Start.
Leave.
[This may be something he'll regret later, but at least his mind will be his own to regret it with.]
He'd best, [Myr mutters, and sighs, and leans into the touch with a depth of need that troubles a remote part of him.
It's growing harder and harder to keep up the internal fiction.]
He showed up--midafternoon. Evening, maybe? Two...two days ago, I think. [Late morning and three days ago. His hold on time is sometimes tenuous even when he's at his best; now...] Damned cold for him to be out. Acted as if he wanted to check up on me with how the cult had fallen apart, then turned to justifying himself when I told him I'd have none of it.
[Anger flares bright in the Bond over a layer of remembered fear. Now that Myr knew what the prior visits were about, merely thinking about how close he'd come is cause for horror.] Claimed the cult had controlled him, too; I told him not to come back without proof. From you, if he wanted a diviner's services for it.
[Speaking this through is...an odd strain, as his reflex is to damp what he's feeling. But doing that might obscure what L's seeking, and so Myr struggles to keep the Bond completely patent. Enough so that fragments of remembered conversation swirl through, ephemeral and unindexed, with the fury Myr had felt at the Naga's imposition. At his gall, to persist and persist in invading Myr's territory after his welcome was revoked.
L's strategy works, besides: What traces of Jin Guangyao's meddling remain--old and faded now--are clear as white thread on red cloth, easy to pluck up.]
It's growing harder and harder to keep up the internal fiction.]
He showed up--midafternoon. Evening, maybe? Two...two days ago, I think. [Late morning and three days ago. His hold on time is sometimes tenuous even when he's at his best; now...] Damned cold for him to be out. Acted as if he wanted to check up on me with how the cult had fallen apart, then turned to justifying himself when I told him I'd have none of it.
[Anger flares bright in the Bond over a layer of remembered fear. Now that Myr knew what the prior visits were about, merely thinking about how close he'd come is cause for horror.] Claimed the cult had controlled him, too; I told him not to come back without proof. From you, if he wanted a diviner's services for it.
[Speaking this through is...an odd strain, as his reflex is to damp what he's feeling. But doing that might obscure what L's seeking, and so Myr struggles to keep the Bond completely patent. Enough so that fragments of remembered conversation swirl through, ephemeral and unindexed, with the fury Myr had felt at the Naga's imposition. At his gall, to persist and persist in invading Myr's territory after his welcome was revoked.
L's strategy works, besides: What traces of Jin Guangyao's meddling remain--old and faded now--are clear as white thread on red cloth, easy to pluck up.]
Edited 2021-02-26 06:50 (UTC)
[L's waiting hand is steady; the clearest and most productive mind is an unemotional one, and while he has his share of desire and darkness, he's always been uncommonly good at walling off, partitioning, producing. If Myr could see his eyes, he might be struck by how they stare, focused, into a middle distance that doesn't seem to have anything to do with their purpose.
Of course, it has everything to do with their purpose. It remains unshaken and stern in the face of Myr's anger; it's not, after all, directed at L. There's no reason to flinch.]
He's got nothing. I might despise him... but I would not misrepresent that truth if it was really a part of him. He knows that.
[He could be looking for a reliable way to trick a diviner, but... ah. That's all to be dealt with another time, and L is encouraged by initial, surface probing into Myr's thoughts. His hurt and disgust and the strain aside, he is, in the end, reliably Myr.]
He's probably afraid, and... he really should be.
[L sounds quite pleased about this. Some of his darkness slips past its partition for just a moment, but he gets it in check again, promptly.]
There's good news... you seem OK. I don't think you're under thrall of his influence on even a moderate level.
[...but. That means, indeed, that this is all Myr.]
Can you try to clear your mind? I realize that's easier said than done, but... if you're having difficulty, it helps, sometimes, to imagine a featureless expanse. A desert, or...
[A moor, a tundra, a dark patch of sky. Why does something still seem wrong?]
Of course, it has everything to do with their purpose. It remains unshaken and stern in the face of Myr's anger; it's not, after all, directed at L. There's no reason to flinch.]
He's got nothing. I might despise him... but I would not misrepresent that truth if it was really a part of him. He knows that.
[He could be looking for a reliable way to trick a diviner, but... ah. That's all to be dealt with another time, and L is encouraged by initial, surface probing into Myr's thoughts. His hurt and disgust and the strain aside, he is, in the end, reliably Myr.]
He's probably afraid, and... he really should be.
[L sounds quite pleased about this. Some of his darkness slips past its partition for just a moment, but he gets it in check again, promptly.]
There's good news... you seem OK. I don't think you're under thrall of his influence on even a moderate level.
[...but. That means, indeed, that this is all Myr.]
Can you try to clear your mind? I realize that's easier said than done, but... if you're having difficulty, it helps, sometimes, to imagine a featureless expanse. A desert, or...
[A moor, a tundra, a dark patch of sky. Why does something still seem wrong?]
[There's silence for a moment; unseen, a flat stare. If they're already at this point, who else has he talked to about it? Linden, he can recall, was already suspicious. With the nature of Bonds being what they are, how much has even needed to be spoken, if Myr is so far out from under his spell now?]
If that's what you wish. But please, take the time to think before saying anything rash. It's only been a short time since those spells were broken, and you wouldn't want to say anything regrettable. If you have a chance to think about it and let me explain properly, you'll see I was telling the truth.
[He urges earnestly, though does curls back on himself a little, as if preparing to leave.]
[He urges earnestly, though does curls back on himself a little, as if preparing to leave.]
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