hadriel_logs | Visiting Hours, Party Hours

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.

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There's another tell. Rey is starting to get the idea more and more that she's right.

"Not large enough to completely avoid one another, no. Even worse when one of the crew on board has killed you once already and would probably get her rocks off on doing it again."

Tell me I'm wrong, is what the expression she gives him says. She leans back in her seat, arms crossed. She's fucking waiting.

If Rey's waiting for him to refute her, she'll be sorely disappointed. Ianchus simply gives her a mild look and then, gently:

"She would, wouldn't she."

So he's not going to deny it. That's good. Saves her the trouble...

"Don't suppose she had anything to do with your little 'step' off that cliff, would she?"

Ianchus sighs, sitting back against the pillow, looking...somewhat irked.

"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?

Is he for real?

"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.

"I can take care of myself. I've more or less figured out how she thinks. I can be careful."
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," Rey snaps, not brushing off his dismissive demeanor. "You're not coming. Law would most likely have you think that he has that bitch under control, but people like that will do whatever the fuck they want when they've found someone to play with, and she will get bored plenty of times on the trip."

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.

Ianchus heaves a huff at that, almost pouting. Absently, he rubs at the wrapping on his ribs (his shirt is off--he prefers it that way--and the bruising is quite visible underneath).

"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.

Rey slips a hand from her folded arms to jab a finger at Ianchus and his sorry state.

"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.

Ianchus snorts, and then sits up suddenly, grimacing at the sharp pain but not any less determined.

"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."

If it was for any other mission, Rey would almost find Ianchus' bravado impressive. As it is, it's just frustrating.

"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.

Ianchus' face is twisted into his angry, bitter expression, until--

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?"

While Rey was hoping for a non-overly dramatic response, what Ianchus gives her is something she didn't quite expect. She just stares at him for a moment, blinking slowly before she even registers his question.

"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.

"So you're saying that just because an egotistic demon bitch has it out for me, I can't contribute, hmm?"

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.

Seeing him double-down even now shouldn't be surprising, but damned if Rey doesn't huff in frustration all the same.

"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.

For how pleasant he usually is, his frustration is throbbing out of him now. He runs both his hands through his thick hair again, clenching his teeth. Rey has a point--and...her words do put him at ease, somewhat. Being here as backup, being the one that the ones left behind could rely on...well, that wouldn't be so bad would it?

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."

Now that he's no longer doubling down on the defensive, Rey gives him a more sympathetic look this time. She knows how much it sucks, feeling helpless. Like she can't do anything right.

"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.

Ianchus snorts, and then peeks at her from behind his hands, with a smile.

"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.

She makes an amused, unflattering sound as she rubs the side of her neck.

"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.

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Visiting Hours, Party Hours

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