Ianchus Cepheos (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vocarrah) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hadriel_logs2018-08-15 10:40 pm
vocarrah) wrote in hadriel_logs2018-08-15 10:40 pm
Entry tags:
Visiting Hours, Party Hours
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.
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.
no subject
"Why does it matter, anyways?" He asks, a hint of petulance creeping into his voice. He's growing tired of everyone prying, everyone wanting to know about him. Isn't it enough to take his situation at face value?
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"Because, if someone keeps fucking with you like that and you just take it, it's going to affect your ability to stay on our boat. It'll be a pain in the ass having to look after you, or clean up the blood when she cuts you open again. It's bad enough that people will keep blaming the Guard for never doing shit when idiots like you act so blasé about getting snuffed."
And while Rey doesn't associate herself with the Guard, the guy helping to run it might as well be her dad, and that she does care about. More so than Law's fucking ship.
no subject
He shrugs, a bitter little smirk creeping across his face.
"I'm sure she's more worried about her vendetta with the gods than with a sack of flesh that she's already gutted and smeared across the floor."
no subject
The fact that Law is allowing Caedra onto his crew at all says a lot about his judgement, and Rey isn't the only one with their suspicions. She can't do anything about that.
She can make sure that their journey doesn't turn into a bloodbath.
no subject
"I can take care of myself," He repeats, certainly sulky now. "You're not the one who answers for me."
In a way, he understands how childish, how defiant he must sound. Ianchus doesn't mind being told what to do, but he rankles when the threat of being chained down is present.
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"Getting killed and falling off cliffs is not 'taking care of yourself' -- unless by that you mean you've got a fucking death wish."
Because that is another way of 'taking care' of someone.
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"She attacked me," he snarls, his voice never rising but forming into a sharp hiss, something that few in Hadriel have heard. "I'm not going to run scared from that bitch. She has weaknesses."
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"None of that even fucking matters. This isn't some daytrip cruise to an island paradise," Rey hisses through clenched teeth. "Those fragments are too important to let them get exploited or hoarded by assholes who want to fuck everyone over for shits. Will not allow this to botch because some lint licker has a pride issue or has some shit to prove."
While it's in poor taste to rail into the victim of the attack rather than the assailant, that isn't what this is about. Rey isn't here to coddle a grown ass man if she ends up hurting his feelings.
no subject
lint licker...pride issue...some shit to prove.
He makes a rather hideous noise, somewhere between a snort and a choke, and has to put his hand over his face to collect himself--it takes him by surprise, how much it amused him. He collects himself, taking a breath and looking up at Rey again, hand still hiding a wry little smile.
"Isn't everyone on that boat in danger, if that's your logic?"
no subject
"Sure, but they're either more than capable or know better than to start shit while we're out in the middle of bumfuck shitsville. No need to shake the pot before we even leave the damned docks." She scratches the side of her neck, mouth tightening into a thin line. "Don't know what happened to make her come after you like that, but it's just not worth the risk. Not right after getting yourself fucked up a second time."
Rey has considered the safety of the others they're going to be with, and none have really given her cause for concern yet. Glacius is an alien and competent fighter with abilities like t
his, plus he keeps to himself too much to fall under Caedra's radar. One is a magic guy who could probably hold his own, another is friends with the demon's newest fuckboy so he's probably safe. Kaiba...
For Atem's sake, Rey hopes that Kaiba doesn't pull any stupid shit. At least there will be two other boats or something to jump on aboard if things get too hairy.
no subject
Ianchus sizes her up, that laughing fit seeming to calm him down a bit; now he just looks something between amused and annoyed.
"Not everybody here is a strong sailor. Broken ribs or not, I know what I'm doing. I'm useful."
So maybe that last bit is a little desperate. Just maybe. But the last thing that Ianchus wants is to be is useless. The thought frightens him almost more than Caedra.
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"You don't have to be risking your ass on that particular boat to be 'useful'. There's plenty of use for people staying behind as well. If this shit on the ocean goes south, it would be best for some to hold the fort in case Fear needs to make an escape plan."
That's as close to hinting that that means she suspects anyone being left behind would be subjected to Fear's bullshit as well, but that's all the more reason to not go out doing anything reckless. Rey's been around long enough, seen enough of what the gods can do, to recognize when one of them might be up to something next. And escaping is Fear's domain.
no subject
And he cares more about the people than the Door.
He sighs, slumping against the headboard, face in his hands now.
"I don't even know why I interested her in the first place. Ah, but I'd love to see her torn down and humiliated. There's a way to do it, I'm sure."
He chuckles darkly, bitterly.
"Aaaaaaah. That bitch."
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"Of course there is, but there are more subtle ways of figuring that shit out. Can't say why she's interested in anybody for sure, but." She shrugs.
Intelligence gathering was part of a few of her past selves' lives, so Rey has some experience in collecting information without attracting suspicion. Just have to play the long game than to expect a quick study.
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"Do push her into the ocean for me, ah?"
Context dictates he's joking, but there's a tone in his voice that suggests that he wouldn't mind if she did.
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"Think she's already planning on jumping in eventually, anyway. But will be sure to make it look like an accident."
Whether she will or not, that's debatable. Rey would rather not do anything that might foster the same sort of attraction Ianchus has with the demon.