Visiting Hours, Party Hours

[vocarrah]

Who: Ianchus, anyone coming by the clinic.
What: Visitation, beratement, and/or patient gossip.
Where: The Clinic.
When: Early-ish August, after this and this.
Warnings: Injuries and stuff? Probably not much.



Nothing injured but my pride. That was a common phrase he'd heard among the explorer-mercenaries after any sort of slip-up, their fault or not. Ianchus' favorite version of that would be to say he had no pride, so he had nothing to hurt.

And yet, there seemed an odd little ache now, in addition to the massive ache that was his whole body (his wounds had been fixed, his ribs wrapped, his cuts stitched, and he was on the way to mending, at the very least).

It looked like he had some sort of pride after all, that could be wounded, small as it was. And Ianchus realized that, despite his idiosyncracies...that for the time being, he was tired of wounds.


He'd been quite surprised at how many people had responded to his half-incoherent messages--even to just check if he was alright after seeing all the other responses. He was...grateful. Incredibly grateful. Everyone was trying to survive here, and yet nobody seemed to want to watch others die, no matter how foolish.

Ianchus had managed to find spare twine, cloth, rope, and other similar objects around the clinic, and he'd whiled away the hours once he was awake by making Cephean sailors' good-luck charms; braiding several different kinds of materials together into a thick rope was not only relaxing (and would keep him from going stir-crazy in his bed), but it was the only way he could think of to repay the people he was grateful to. A little luck would certainly be useful, wouldn't it?

Thankfully he's well enough now to receive visitors. Are you a fellow patient? Have you come to check on him? Admonish him, perhaps? God, but he could really use the company.

Comments

[puzzlingly]

「Ianchus words are met with a bit puzzlement, which quickly is replaced by amazement.
Is what he's doing... for him?

For him...

A gift.

His first ever since he got there. A material one at any rate. The change on his face is gradual and very obvious as he takes a good look at the talisman as Ianchus works on it — the little details, the dedication Ianchus is puttin on it — his smile seems more and more genuine and warm. Strength and experience, huh... It's exactly what he needs.」

I'm-- I'm fine. Actually... I brought you a little something.

「He looks towards the general entrance of the room, just to see if there is anyone there that would frown upon this, no doctor in Hadriel probably would but still, it adds to the mystery. At last, he brings out a medium sized bottle from inside his jacket and shows it to Ianchus. It's more than obvious that it is not apple juice.」

I thought you might be missing this a little.

[vocarrah]

Ah! Atem, you are far too kind. Far, far too kind!

[Ianchus grins, sitting up a little, craning his neck out to as if to ask if he can have a sniff, trying to gauge what treat is in the other man's hands. His own fingers continue working on the talisman, though--concentration is key, and though he's woven several (and it's not really intricate work, considering it was meant to be made by rough, calloused hands), he refuses to drop it until he's finished.]

[puzzlingly]

「Atem merely gives a little chuckle at that, but gets the gesture and approaches the bottle to him after opening it, it might not be exactly what Ianchus thinks it is, but it definitely smells of bourbon. He doesn't think Rey will miss it, hopefully.」

Do you feel good enough for a sip or two?

「A glass or two more likely.」

[vocarrah]

I've felt good enough for a sip or two for a while.

[He laughs a little, sitting back against the headboard. He nods to the side of the room, where there's a sink.]

There are glasses there--I believe two, even, if you'd like to join me.

[puzzlingly]

「Leaving the bottle on the night table, Atem goes fetch those aforementioned glasses, filling them to the half when he's back.」

It's a shame we don't have ice.

「And since Ianchus refuses to leave his beautiful work aside, he's just gonna offer it himself to drink, approaching the glass to his face; it's not big deal.」

So, who pushed you?

「Bam— Don't choke on your drink, Ianchus.」

[vocarrah]

[The coughing fit resulting from that not-so-innocent question is enough to make his ribs ache all over again, and Ianchus has to pull back, grabbing for the third glass by his bedside, the one filled with water. It takes a bit to get himself under control, and finally, he manages to get a hold of himself, leaning back against the headboard, taking a deep breath.]

Ahhh. Ahhhhh. Didn't I say? I was careless.

[Ianchus gives Atem a very mixed look--annoyance, amusement, grudging admiration. But still--he can bluff well. It's not entirely a lie, is it? He'd stepped right off that cliff.

[puzzlingly]

Atem is not as kind as Ianchus may think he is, he can be selfish, he can be incredibly full of himself, just as he is at the reaction his not so seemingly innocent question produces.

He's not dumb, not a little bit, he is too skilled at reading people, even the most flippant and eluding ones.

"Ianchus," His smirk might not be the gentlest, but it is not ill intended either. "Clearly you have an incredibly attention to detail," He says as his eyes wander towards the talisman he's working on. " I've seen you drink, you do not lose sight of yourself when you do. I don't believe you fell by mere accident."

The man is bulky, there is no way to deny it, but he is graceful in his own way, and the way he moves, some of his gestures... He's more than he'd probably ever tell. It takes one to know one. Atem also remembers very well telling him he died before, there is just something that doesn't click, people here don't die just because, there hasn't been enough monsters to do that, it was someone. It always is, in this place.

But... he stops. He's doing it again, he's trying to control everything around him as he used to do millennia ago, he cannot do that, not here. He cannot go around judging people just for the sake of it. He seems to deflate a little bit, his eyes turn a little gentler, Yugi would be so disappointed on him if he saw him. As if it were to fix his intrusion, Atem stands and gets a small towel from near the sink, offering to Ianchus to clean his face if he wishes to.

"Sorry."


( ooc: ...imma change formats so it's easier on you my friend, sorry!)

[vocarrah]

He has to admit, he appreciates that ruthlessness. Ianchus prefers someone come out and half-choke him to get the truth, rather than sneak around him and throw double-speak at him.

He gives him a wry grin, taking the towel and pressing it to his face, staying like that for a bit and collecting himself. When he does, he reaches out to take the bourbon from Atem's hands, taking a proper drink of it, a small cough still running through him.

"Come now. If you're really sorry you won't let that go to waste," he says, nodding towards the glass that Atem poured for himself.

And after another drink, he finally talks, that flippant tone back in place:

"I was in a fight. I did fall, though--I was focused on other things, as you imagine. Though ultimately, I think the fall saved my life. It was much worse before I got here."

A shrug, and a narrow smile at Atem: Are you satisfied?

[puzzlingly]

"I wasn't planning to." He takes a seat again, going for his own glass and taking a proper drink from it as well, his reaction to the taste is mild, almost unnoticeable in comparison to that day at the springs, at least. He's too spoiled.

But, the sudden confession of sorts, that brings bewilderment to his amaranthine eyes. There is so much he wishes to ask, he wants to suddenly leave the clinic and go look for whoever did this to him, indirectly or not, they left Ianchus there to die, that much is obvious. Instead of jumping the gun, as he usually does, he drinks the rest of his glass in a single gulp. Wining is not always sweet.

It is satisfying, just not in a good way.

"It'll be a pain to get that name out of you, will it not?" Look, he's not as delusional as so many people think he is.

[vocarrah]

"It will."

Ianchus says it graciously but firmly. He's already dealt with that being forced out of him once before, and he didn't like it at all. And Atem doesn't have nearly the emotional currency Yusuke had on him.

He lifts his glass to Atem, his eyes focused on the other man's.

"To good health."

[puzzlingly]

"Good." Is that strange? He even gives the older man a sly grin as he slowly puts himself together from the surprise and the sudden anger. "I've always enjoyed challenges."

Now, hold on! They say it is bad luck to toast on an empty glass, the young man quickly fills half of it again, and just then he clinks it against Ianchus'.

"To your good health." He smirks and sips just a little bit of that, he doesn't want to get drunk in the clinic, that'd be... actually very funny. "I never give up, that's something you should probably know about me." It's true, they might not know much about the other, but Ianchus is one interesting man, he's intriguing and just as kind.

But he will proudly take his first win and not take advantage of his worthy opponent, it wouldn't be honorable.

"Tell me more about those talismans instead." He can definitely give him a rest.

I HAD THIS WRITTEN OUT AND THEN MY BROWSER CLOSED I'M SO CRANK

[vocarrah]

Ianchus hesitates, looking at Atem over his glass with a rather piercing look, ascertaining the other man.

He enjoys games to a degree--but he dislikes these types, the ones where he feels probed. 'I'll find out what you don't want me to find out.' Certainly, Ianchus ultimately doesn't care about his own secrets, but he'll push back against anything that pushes him.

Still, at the toast he drinks, throwing his head back with full vivaciousness.

"These are...I'm making a few. I think everyone needs a little luck. A little protection. It was common for sailors on ship to while away hours on watch making them."

He holds up the one in his lap. "Nothing goes to waste. Tools turn into talismans."

i'm sorry my dude

[puzzlingly]

It would be certainly easier to take the answer with the simple logic that it'd be not for Ianchus, but for others; why would he keep such information to himself when others could also be in danger? It's ridiculous, but Atem is not about to gamble about it, as good as he might be at it. For as long as he can, he will respect his wishes, but only for so long.

But that gets put aside for the moment, it's far easier to get lost in the stories from other's home at the moment.

"So, you're a sailor?" It doesn't sound like that's all there is, no. But he's also seen tidbits of his conversation with Law after all, he was all over that when he tried to confront him about taking Caedra as his crew. Needless to say, that didn't came out too well.

[vocarrah]

"Mmm. No, I wouldn't say so. I think that's a misnomer. I can sail, but I'm not a sailor, if that makes sense."

He looks up with a grin. "I lack the fatalism."
Well. Perhaps that's not quite right, considering how he ended up here, and how he's ended up other places. He lacks a specific sort of fatalism. The kind that keeps one alive.

[puzzlingly]

"It does make sense."

No, no he doesn't lack of that at all! Which is why Atem raises a skeptical eyebrow, even though the gesture is tainted with a smirk.

"Did you travel a lot, tho?"

[vocarrah]

"Of course. In my world, exploration was incredibly lucrative. We were possibly on the verge of discovering magical energy. But, ah! Exploration is expensive, isn't it?"

Ianchus makes a motion of his wrist. "That's where a rich patron comes in. And I had no intention of sitting on my laurels while my money sailed away and worked for itself. So I sailed with it."

As nonchalantly as he talks about it, there is a clear fondness in his voice...perhaps that gives a hint as to why he's so bitter about being trapped here.

[puzzlingly]

"How lucky..." Somewhere in that tone there is just the slightest taint of jealously. Most of his life Atem stayed back home, traveling around was not something someone like him would have been able to afford, and not because of he lacked the resources. What was beyond those walls, what was beyond the sands he could see everyday from his balcony? More than once the toyed with the idea of escaping, see the world, learn from people, it could have certainly helped him understand the world a little better when he was younger. He cannot complain, however, he had a very good life.

"So there is magic in your world as well?"

[vocarrah]

"Ah, not like there is here." Not like the kind that healed his ribs, nor teleported him.

"It may or may not be true magic--like the kind here--in the first place. But there are definitely other forms of energy...the kind not generated by things like wind or...ah, or coal. There are many mysteries in the world. Most worlds."

He may not have dropped that he and Atem have more in common than the latter might think--both of their status as royalty--but what Atem is wistful for is precisely why Ianchus was so adamant about striking out on his own.

[puzzlingly]

It is not hard to imagine the many things he might be referring to, if someone like him would have faced the modern world without any kind of previous knowledge, it would have been crazy, he would have considered every single thing as magic — something like electricity was such a surprise, but he doubts that's what he's talking about anyway.

"I hope you can get to experience those mysteries again, Ianchus."

[vocarrah]

He takes a moment to be...rather touched by that. Atem's insistent on prodding at him, sure, but he's not a bad sort, is he.

"Isn't Hadriel a mystery?" Ianchus looks up around the Clinic, thoughtfully. "I don't appreciate being the plaything of a god, but...there are so many people I never would have met otherwise. Perhaps that's worth a broken rib or two."

He pauses, and then with a deadpan face: "Of course, I'd prefer if they weren't the cause of said broken ribs." Except for in very specific circumstances, of course.

[puzzlingly]

They are not gods, he could argue, and certainly not his, but they were, for their people. Powerful enough too, but not able to even defend them... He lets that slide anyway, it's not important.

"That's one way to see it." Way too optimistic, that's for sure. "You're taking this better than I did." What a vague statement, or perhaps, not so much.

[vocarrah]

"Ah, I seem to take it better than most people here."

He hesitates, turning thoughtful.
"I suppose it's because I came from a charmed, privileged life, and then traded some of my stability for unpredictability. This is a little more than I'm used to, but...ah, still, I just supposed this is the next step. No reason I shouldn't endure a little more, ah?"

[puzzlingly]

It is certainly not what Atem was referring to, which of course makes him wonder.

"Unless you mean you're used to be bedridden, it's not quite what I was talking about." Ah, maybe he just should tell him, it's not as if it was a big secret anyway. "A couple of months after I got here, someone landed me in clinic for a while. I did not take that well, I must admit." But, who would, really?

[vocarrah]

"Oh--the injury, you mean?"

Ianchus doesn't miss the someone in Atem's statement. But thinking about it, the other seems proud...of course he wouldn't take it well.

"I was used to danger in my old life, too. Perhaps I'm dealing with it so well because I'm imagining I was gored by a buffalo instead of by a--ah."

Look at that, he almost said too much.

[puzzlingly]

When you give your trust away and then you're gutted like a pig, it's hard not to harbor some kind of hate about it. At least he can say he's over that, the nightmares will not stop regardless.

That earns Ianchus a skeptical stare, fortunately he does not focus on what he almost didn't say, "What did you do in your old life?" Atem's wasn't without danger, of course, but he wasn't... not even he was that reckless, or was he? He's starting to think they both had a death wish of some sort.