nysalogs | (no subject)

[The shock of the - whatever it was - actually scared her. Some people think that to be brave, you must be fearless, but Lucy thinks she is afraid quite often, she simply looks her fear in the eye and challenges it, demands satisfaction from it, tells it to leave her alone and go away, loudly and plainly, wherever she is able.

Here, she is able. She thinks the fog reminds her of something, and she can't quite remember it, but-

-but it doesn't matter, because she's stumbling, trying to find her way out. She wanted to come to the market and see if she could find some sweets, maybe, or something nice for Edmund, for being so good, and it's silly, now, but she is disoriented from the smoke and the noise and the blast.

But it's been a pair of hours and now she is starting to really feel badly, with a headache, enough that instead of continuing to try and find her way home, she sits instead and closes her eyes. Yes. All right. She will be all right.]

[ And that's how Rhys finds her not long after she's taken respite. Fortune favoured him enough not to have been in the immediate area when the gas bomb went off, but the effects of it have still been felt in other areas. The smoke's taken some time to disperse and while there was no extreme damage, many people remained stunned or on edge.

He assumes the woman sitting before him who looks slightly more pale than normal is one of them, and Rhys can't help but feel he should...to something. He's not sure what, but he starts with the obvious as he approaches: ]

Hey...you okay?

[She looks up, and she can't help it - she smiles a little, to try and brighten up, but she looks so tired. She takes a glance at the man, and she looks around.]

I seem to be a little lost, so it seems.

[This is part of the problem of being new, and almost always having Edmund with her. She's not only ill (though she doesn't know it) she's also too new to be certain of where she's going.]

That's all, I fear.

Are you...new here? A refugee?

[ That's as code as it gets for asking if she's from Thesa station, freshly-awoken from her slumber thanks to The Storm. Rhys tries to be discreet where possible when it comes to that sort of thing; the Orbiters were pretty clear about not divulging that sort of thing to the natives and he'd like to be sure before he starts making assumptions. ]

Ah-

Yes, precisely.

[That's a good way to put it. She gets up a little, finally standing, and looks around.]

So you see? I was in the market, and then I simply got, well. Turned about.

[She looks up at him again, and it's weird to move her head. The pain goes right over the crown of her skull.]

Would it be a tremendous bother if I could ask you to please help me home?

Sure thing. Can you stand okay? You're looking a little pale.

[ Rhys offers Lucy what he hopes is a reassuring smile as he holds out his cybernetic hand for her, already working through the fastest and least-likely to be congested route to take her back to the stand-in housing. If she's as bad off as she looks all the panic and nervous energy on the main roads probably won't do her any good. ]

Oh, yes, I am quite capable now, I think.

[But she takes his hand anyway, and doesn't mention anything about how it feels. She knows enough to know that some things are likely unspeakably rude.

And she holds onto him with both hands.]

Do I? It must be the shock of the surprise! But it was just a loud noise and quite a bit of smoke, in the end.

[ He'd appreciate it if he knew; Rhys still isn't used to thinking that his cybernetic enhancements are anything but completely ordinary like they were back home. People paying them more mind than they would a normal hand is weird. ]

Seems like. Were you close by when it happened?

[ Rhys waits until she seems steady on her feet before he loosens his hold on her hand, watching for any wavering on unsteadiness. ]

Oh yes.

[She wavers only a little, but catches herself quickly enough, easily and without a moment's pause. It's all right. She can do this.]

I was right there! I do not recall much, though. Only that it was loud, and there was such billowing smoke-

Oh, whoa.

[ Rhys balks a little in surprise, managing to look a little more genuinely concerned now. He thought maybe she'd been nearby? Not exactly in the thick of it all. That's probably really jarring for most people, no wonder she looks so shaken. ]

Do you need another minute before we go? We can wait.

Yes, if you please.

[She takes a moment, and then she looks at him, curious for a moment.]

What is your name, sir?

Rhys.

[ Pleasegethisnamerightpleasegethisnameright-- ]

And you?

Rhys.

[She says it very softly. Okay. She knows him now, she thinks, in typical Lucy form.]

I'm Lucy. Lucy Pevensie, if you should please.

Well it's nice to meet you Lucy. How about we take it slow until we get back to your place? If you need a breather or anything just let me know.

Thank you, sir.

[She takes a moment, quiet.]

I did not think this would make me so tired. What could it have been?

Maybe the shock from it all? I hear when people go through it you get pretty exhausted after. Sort of like you get the jitters all over and it feels like you've run a marathon. Is it anything like that?

I cannot say. I do not know what a marathon is.

[She pauses.]

Is it a bit like a battle?

Nnnnooo, not quite. It's more like a really, really long race. Usually it's several miles? There's a couple crazy ones that are like, fifty miles long and take place over several days and stuff. It's nuts.

[ Rhys laughs a little. ]

Mostly it just means you're exhausted from moving a lot.

Oh, I understand. Yes.

It does feel like I've had a full day of running, or walking.

[She considers that.]

You are very kindly, you know.

What, me? Nah... Anyone would do at least this. Have you seen the people in this city? They follows laws and everything. If it wasn't me then someone else would have stepped up to help for sure.

[ He means to be reassuring and less humble when he says this, because Rhys is pretty aware of the fact that while he's capable of doing nice things he's not exactly what one would call a "good person." At least not in the conventional sense, or the moral sense. Or the materialistic sense.

he should probably do some re-evaluating there come to think of it. ]

Well, it was you, so I thank you.

[She means it.]

Then in that case...you're welcome.

[ Rhys offers her a smile that's a grateful as it is amused. ]

[When she's delivered home, she thinks, well.

Edmund isn't there, and she hopes he's not looking for her. She finds a spot, a seat, and sits, and barely thinks to contact him before she gets up to try and find him. First she checks the house, and when she can't find him, she's heading out the door, wondering if they have any kind of medicine here. Surely, because there are doctors.

But well, it is no matter. A headache is no bother at all. She simply wishes to find Edmund before he gets too worried.

She's about halfway down the street when she sees him, and waves, and promptly sneezes.]

[As it goes with Lucy, whenever she thinks that Edmund or Peter or Susan are being too fussy, her first instinct - probably a poor one - is to immediately rebel and go and do whatever it is they thought was a poor idea. This has led to many a bad decision, although it has led to many a wonderful friendship, and so Lucy continues that tradition and does what she likes.

What she had intended to do was to help people. She is, after all, not that ill.

Except that maybe she is. She was halfway out and to - where, a hospital? No, to find something and someone to help, or to see if she could find out who would have done this thing - when she suddenly felt a bit more ill than she had been.

Her fever is going up. So much so that she thinks she sees-

-oh-

Is that a wolf?]

How queer.

[He had heard she was ill and come to look after her. There were aspects of Lucy that sharply reminded him of Arya, so it was little surprise to see her trying to escape her room and do as she wanted.

Ghost spied her first, trotting head to brush his nose against her hand, the large wolf dwarfing her in size. Jon was quick on his heels, frowning at Lucy in concern.]

You should be resting.

[He reached out and touched her hand, little surprise that she was warm all over.]

You look as if you are about to faint.

My lord-

[She says it softly, and looks at him, and there is nothing in her eyes that is reminiscent of Arya. It is not the same. She looks a little clouded, and utterly sincere, with no mischief at all.]

There is a wolf.

[She whispers it loudly, but her hands are going to Ghost's fantastically wide muzzle, and she carefully, with great care and great delicacy, scratches him behind the ears.]

I think he likes me.

[That fog about her is enough to worry him. Without a word, he moves to scoop her up and begin carrying her back to bed. She was too pale and had the look of fever about her. She needed rest and he wasn't sure she could understand him at the moment.]

His name is Ghost.

[The wolf followed him, walking at his side as he leaned up to bump his nose against Lucy's arm.]

He can sense good people. He likes you because he can see that in you.

Ghos-

[She's about to say something, but then suddenly she's in his arms and his heart is beating under her hand, and he's so warm.]

I can walk, you know.

[But she's not struggling. She's quiet in his arms, comfortable there.]

You came to find me.

I know. You were walking away from your bed. Now I'll carry you back.

[He's trying to be funny but his concern overrides whatever wit he has.]

I did.

[He lets those words speak for themselves, carrying all of his concern and affection for her.]

Do you want me to stay with you awhile?

[Her hands are small, and tightening against his shirt, and her head leans against his shoulder. It is a sign of how tired she is that she'll accept this, that she'll let him do it. She's normally quite fussy about people carrying her, disliking it for fear it makes her look weak.

But now she doesn't care. She just lets him hold her.]

Yes.

Please.

But I should not like you to grow ill.

[She's so small and fragile against him. There was a sweeping feeling over him, a need to protect her and to make sure that she was safe. He would stay with her, even after she fell asleep.]

I won't.

[He hadn't yet, but it didn't mean he wouldn't. That didn't matter though, she needed his presence.]

Don't worry about me, Lucy.

[Once they were back in her room, he set her down on the bed, tucking the blankets around her.]

Do you need anything?

[She grips his sleeve, suddenly. Tightly.]

I should like you not to leave, until Edmund returns. Please.

[She normally would not say this; it's not that she wouldn't be honest, but there's honesty and then there's this. Flat honesty. A lack of any barrier of good sense or propriety.

She doesn't even consider what Edmund might think to find him.]

I won't. [It's a gentle reassurance, made as he brushes her hair from her face tenderly.] I will stay even after he comes back.

Don't worry.

[It doesn't matter in his mind that he is staying here with her or what any of it means. He worries for her and cares about her health. He would stay regardless, wanting to make sure she was safe.]

Rest, Lucy.

[She did not think that taking ill would, well.

Take so much out of her, and yet, here she is, tired and drained, but determined to make a cup of tea and sit on the porch. She wants sunshine, as though she is a plant, and it will make her healthy again, even though she knows it won't. She goes, anyway, and sits right outside, her hair covered with a blanket when she sees Hawke.]

Goodness, I hope you are not ill. Who will fight the kraken for me, then?

[Hawke drops in next to her, sitting backwards on the chair so she can rest her arms on the back and observe Lucy. It's funny. It seems like just yesterday they were at the beach and now this. Isn't that just how her life tends to go? ...And now this. Always happens.]

Not ill. Just popping in for a visit because I've been ill many times in the past and the only worst thing than being ill is being ill and bored.

You are most kind.

[Lucy is smiling a little, even though she looks tired and sick, she also doesn't seem to look like she minds much, either. That's Lucy for you.]

But you should not get too close, lest you fall ill as well.

Oh well, I've survived a few plagues in the my life time and always come out on the other end just fine, simply with less bodily fluids.

[It's a dumb joke but she's genuinely not concerned about it.]

So on the scale of bored to ill, which way do you think you're falling more?

Bored.

[She shivers a little, but-]

I'm terrible at being ill. I do not care for lying about like a lump. But I still would not like you to be ill.

[She had thought, after the first time, that since she was feeling a little better, that she could leave. This time there isn't an escape in mind as much as it was just a desire to go for a walk, for a change, to go out and be in the world instead of feeling so trapped inside of the house.

She's always been a poor invalid.

She isn't far away when she has to sit, breathing a little harder than expected. It's very cold.

For the love of the Lion, can't she spend a single day without feeling this weak and sad?

She looks up just as she sees him, and tips her head.]

Sir, you are blocking the sun.

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rhys;

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edmund;

jon snow;

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hawke;

sorry for the slow.

no prob as you see I have slowed down a bit too this week

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steve;