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

[vocarrah]

"Ah, plenty--more than I expected. The last two days, it's been rather quiet, though. And as you can imagine, once you spoil a man, it's harder for him to go without."

Ianchus forgot how annoying it is to be without people when he's in a decent mood.

[dedikated]

Going without company isn't an easy thing to do, really. Spoiled or not. Being alone means there's nothing to distract you but yourself. It's easier when you can run, when you can get drunk enough to forget that you're alone, to forget the thoughts that rise, but stuck in a hospital?

She can sympathise, and Kate sighs before getting more comfortable in her chair.

"'M not in a hurry." Or, in English: she's willing to play the company for this morning. The chores can wait a bit.

[vocarrah]

Ianchus' lips curl into a smile, his eyes brightening.

"Ah, thank you. Kate, yes?" He's seen her around, and she'd introduced herself to him when she'd first assessed the ruins of his ribs, but it's a way of acknowledging her, of confirming that they know each other. A Cephean habit, perhaps.

[dedikated]

Yes, of course. At least being injured hasn't rattled his brain and left him unable to remember names. Kate hums an affirmation and twitches her mouth from one side to the other.

She said she was willing to play company but damn if she isn't bad at the conversation part of that.

"You hosted that hot springs party a while back, aye?" Her accent clips things shorter than they were, dropping constants at the start and end of words.

[vocarrah]

"Ah, yes!" Ianchus perks up quickly at that, his eyes lighting up. "You came, then. Did you enjoy yourself?"

He'd seen many people there, and after a while they'd begun to blend together. But ah, despite the...poor ending to it (for him, at least), it certainly excites him.

[dedikated]

It sure is a shame she doesn't know that part of it. But as far as the entertainment of the night goes, Kate's a simple girl: give her alcohol and people she likes, and her night will be alright. Years of drinking in ancient, barely-cleaned bars that didn't ask any questions about ID and served the cheapest drinks makes a party in Hadriel seem amazing in comparison.

"Had everything I needed," she responds. Which, as far as Kate goes, is a yes. She didn't need to dress up, either, which was a bonus. "Location were crap."

Well. We can't all be miserable brats who hate bubbly warm hot springs, Katherine.

[vocarrah]

"Really."

Ianchus' eyes light up; he's already pleased by the compliments, but it's that little insult that really gets him. Sure, it wasn't leveled directly at him, but--

He's still grinning as he says it: "You dislike hot springs, ah??"

[dedikated]

She's just being honest. Painfully so, perhaps. It's never been her favourite place in the city, a reminder of Love as much as a place that's simply given to doing nothing, just lying in water.

What is the point in that? She can run a bath if she's that desperate for boredom.

"Prefer things more active." Sure, bars aren't exactly gym levels of activity, but there's moving and dancing and, if you end up in the wrong part of town, a fight or two. It doesn't feel as static as the hot springs do, not as lethargic.

[vocarrah]

"Active. Like bars? Or dancing?" He doesn't really mean to pick up on her thoughts--Ianchus is just a connoisseur of every way people can gather and interact and maybe do other things that inevitably lead to fucking.

"Ah, certainly, we're lucky we have our Speakeasy, aren't we?"

[dedikated]

Well, how many other things would one really associate with a party? Kate shrugs. "Both." It's an admission that comes easily now, but once upon a time, having her admit that she even remotely enjoyed dancing would have been like pulling teeth. Now, she sees it for what it is — something harmless, something which doesn't make her any less untouchable or capable of firing weapons into someone's face.

And while the Speakeasy is certainly a place Kate greatly enjoys, the words trigger another memory. An old, old one. "People voted for a bar right away." More or less. Delight's arrival, and the bar she brought with her (RIP), was the very first thing Kate really lived through here. The first god brought back after Rage and her weapons.

Hadriel always has had its priorities.