nysalogs | WHAT... is your favorite color? ][ open

Entry tags:

WHAT... is your favorite color? ][ open

Who: Cain (

baguablade) & you!
What: A questing we will go...
When: January
Where: Olympia
Warning(s): none

( a: disturbing the dead )

[ The crypt is hardly the most welcoming of places, but Cain and his partner are making do. Sure, there's the general unfriendly atmosphere of cold stone, disgusting dripping walls, and so many twists and turns that Cain's head is spinning. Not to mention the way the whole place is rigged as a death trap. From the spikes that had nearly taken off Cain's head at the front door, to the giant rolling boulder that had nearly squashed the two of them until they managed to duck into a lucky crack in the wall, to the alligator pit, the less said about that, the better.

Deeper in, and the traps only get worse. Cain's a bit fraught, streaked with dirt, completely on edge from having to keep an eye out for the next fun thing that'll try to kill them. He's given up on even trying to keep a hand on his sword hilt; there's no point when the danger comes from the environment rather than an attacker.

Still, despite the many perils, he's pretty sure they're close to finding the Ivory Hogs' cache. The layout of the tomb makes an odd kind of sense, a layout that's maze like in more than just its confusing turns. There's a center to the passages, Cain's quite sure, and they're near it — and the treasure. But that just means the traps laid for trespassers are getting more dangerous.

Cain pauses midstep, his hand stretched out to the side to stop his partner, too. ]

Did you hear something?

[ Was that a low, moaning howl? Or maybe the sharp click of some sort of mechanism arming itself? ]

( b: a day in the life - closed to yona )

[ Cain's a little wary of any partner recommended to him by Voss. It's nothing to do with Yona, personally. It's just that he trusts Voss a significantly shorter distance than he can throw him, and that extends to anyone Voss trusts. Still, Cain's willing to give Yona the benefit of the doubt. He knows better than to think that appearances like Yona's mean that she's harmless, but Cain himself is here, working for Voss for his own reasons, hoping that despite the shady nature of who he's received his task from, the information he's gaining will let him discover just what kind of corruption is lurking in Olympia's upper ranks.

Besides, Yona's earnestness is catching. Cain's not sure he's ready to trust her entirely, but he's usually pretty good at reading people. He'll take the risk; after all, if they get caught, they'll both be in trouble here.

Which is why Cain's shown up with two hooded cloaks, conspicuously bearing the symbol of the Royal Guard, one of which he's currently draping over Yona's head, tugging it down to hide her face in the shadow. He's awfully good at it, his expert appraisal as he pulls the hood to a bit more of an angle speaking of lots of experience. ]

There. [ He's also brought a pair of handcuffs, which he holds out to Yona. ] What do you think? Should I play a fellow guardsman, or am I a prisoner you're escorting to the cells?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ This isn't how he'd planned to spend his evening, but Percival works quickly and efficiently at collecting the supplies. While he searches, his mind re-assesses the recent memory. Some of the blood on Cain seemed to be older and drier than the kind pooled around his wound. Either he has been bleeding non-stop for a while now, or that blood isn't his own. He hopes it's the latter.

When he returns, he's completely focused on the task, setting things aside in favor of peeling back his dirty clothes and getting access to the wound. Cain is sitting in such a way that makes it difficult for him to unbutton his shirt. ]

I don't want to hear another word. Move, so I can get a better look.

[ Cain stares at Percival, studying him for a long moment, weighing just what kind of reaction Percival would have if he refused to comply. He wouldn't be like Leona, who was always quick see through Cain's protestations of health and retaliated with a swift, punishing demonstration of just how not fine he really was. No, there'd be no kick in the shin from Percival, no disapproving stare and guilt-laden scolding.

But what Percival would do might be even worse. The cold anger and disdain he thinks Percival would react with is just as unappealing a prospect as actually letting Percival see his wound and having to face whatever questions will arise from that.

No, it's worse. Even though he knows that he should push Percival away, that he should keep Percival from learning about what he's doing, from worrying — (from caring) — he can't bring himself to say the words that would send Percival into enough of a rage to spurn him.

With a sigh, Cain shifts, uncurling a little to let Percival get at his clothing, though he doesn't make any motion to help Percival peel away the shirt and jacket and get to the wound. He doesn't say anything. The truth of the injury will show itself, and nothing else he says will have any bearing on what Percival thinks of it. Instead, he just waits silently for whatever reaction Percival will offer. ]

[ The blood may make the injury look worse than it is, but Percival reserves his judgement until he gets a good look. He knows better than to assume that all of this blood is his own. In fact, he hopes that's the case. He keeps his brow narrowed in concentration as he unbuttons his shirt and gingerly pulls back the fabric.

His fears are confirmed. The site of the wound isn't fatal, and fairly shallow, all things considered, but the idea that this could have been caused by some non-human creature seems unlikely. ]

You've been stabbed!

[ Quickly, he grabs Cain by the arms and guides him onto the floor. He may not be a medic, but he's seen enough of these on the battlefield to know that lying down was the first step to preventing further loss of blood. ] Who did this to you?!

[ Cain sits down, mostly because it's clear that Percival's not going to let him do anything else, but he doesn't go so far as lying down. He settles himself cross legged, feigning relaxation, his good arm stretched behind him to prop himself up. ]

It's not that bad. Really, I'm fine, you don't have to sound so worried...

[ He doesn't like that note of worry in Percival's voice at all. In fact, he'd really like Percy to stop that. ]

Edited 2018-02-13 05:29 (UTC)

[ The way Cain seems to actually put effort into relaxing and even keeps that persistent grin on his face is doing nothing more than making Percival's rage rise. He has come to see, ever since the return of his sword, that Cain hides behind a carefully crafted mask. At times like these, when he's doing foolish things and getting caught up in dangerous situations, it's especially frustrating. ]

Who did this to you?

[ He worries, because of course he does— even if Cain weren't someone that he's had to now repress lingering emotions for, he is someone he considers a friend, and the fact that he's chosen to do whatever this was alone is insulting.

Didn't they agree that they could depend on one another? What kind of bullshit was this, then?

He presses down on the bare skin with a warm, dry towel, applying pressure. ]

Continue giving me that foolish smile, and I swear, I will finish what this person started.

[ The smile doesn't vanish despite Percival's threat. It's hard to believe that Percival will do anything but keep fussing over him when he's so carefully applying pressure to Cain's wound, fussing over him. But Cain's smile does soften at the edges, turning to something almost pained — but not because of the ache of the pressure on the wound, though that certainly does hurt. ]

And if I tell you, what will you do?

[ He stops what he's doing and looks up at Cain incredulously, as if he's amazed that the other man would even ask this question. Far from simply companions from the same world, they were friends, weren't they? It wasn't something that Percival would outwardly say, but for starters, it wasn't often that he'd blatantly express his feelings for someone.

So he would intend to do for any other friend who someone else dared wrong. ]

I will track this person down immediately and invite them to tea.

[ The pressure he applies is firmer now, and if he weren't still so acutely aware of how much pain Cain is probably in, he might convey some of that frustration through his grip. Instead, the knots he makes are both quick and incredibly tight. ]

What do you think?

[ It's fussing, still, still careful, but Percival's point is made. He's annoyed, and Cain grimaces against the pain — but he holds still, letting Percival tend to the wound, even if it's a very unpleasant experience. It reminds him a little of Leona, the way she'd kick him every time he tried to hide an injury, how her bandaging was always accompanied by a lecture.

How she had the same inclination to rush off and take care of anyone who'd so much as left a scratch on Cain.

That's exactly why he can't tell Percival who did this. ]

That's what I thought. I don't want you to get carried away and kill anyone with that temper of yours~.

[ His tone is light — too light. Hiding exactly how much he means those words. ]

[ As Percival finishes bandaging up (a similar job to what Cain had managed to do before, but much cleaner and with less chance of infection), his expression only worsens in anger at Cain's reply.

He doesn't have time to play this game, and Cain was just as stubborn as he was, in his own way, so with or without his input, he'd have to investigate on his own.

Like he always does.

He stands back up now, and without another word, puts on his coat and straps Lohengrin to his back, clearly on his way to head back into the city. ]

[ This... is also exactly what Cain wanted to avoid. Percival going out looking for a fight in the middle of the night. And he's likely to find one. He can take care of himself, but there's no need for it. No need for Percival to be so angry, to be moments away from stomping out the door—

Cain catches Percival by the elbow and digs his heels in, intent on dragging him back if he has to. ]

Wait—

[ He doesn't expect to be let off so easily, so he's not surprised when he's stopped.

He is angry. Of course he's angry. As angry as anyone would be after finding out their friend has been (he assumes) needlessly wounded. ]

Are you going to say something worth waiting for, or will you continue wasting my time?

[ There's a criminal on the loose?! ]

[ He sorts through and discards a multitude of responses. He could tell Percival that he's fine, that the injury is relatively minor; Percival wouldn't care. He could explain that he'd gotten the injury doing less than savory work; he doesn't want to have to get into that right now. He could tell Percival that it's not worth seeking out the culprit; Percival's honor won't allow that to rest, and Cain doesn't feel like explaining the twisting trail of not-quite-blackmail that Takasugi's holding over his head.

Instead, looking up into Percival's furious glare, his hand warm with Percival's body heat just from this brief bit of contact, he settles on the one thing that might actually work: ]

Don't go. Please? I'd like you to stay.

[ Because he means it. ]

[ Percival detests that Cain's plead actually makes him second guess himself. It's true that he has absolutely zero leads to go on, but since when has that stopped him? He would follow the other's trail as much as he could, backtracking to a probable location, and handle things from there.

He does pause in his path, feeling increasingly more pained and troubled. Finally, he turns to Cain, gripping both of his shoulders tightly enough that it might not be the most comfortable touch right now, with his injury. This isn't the first time Cain has shown hints of this kind of behavior, and it is both baffling and exasperating. ]

I don't understand. Why do you have so little regard for yourself?! What do you have against bringing a criminal to justice?!

[ For long, long moments Cain's afraid that Percival will shrug him off, will turn and walk away as he had before. Will walk out the door and leave Cain behind without another word.

Relief blooms warm in his chest when Percival stops and turns to him, strong enough to have Cain's shoulders slumping and his fingers clenching in Percival's sleeve — a childish hold, almost clinging. ]

Nothing. You should know, I have nothing against that. But this is... more complicated. [ At least that question he can answer. That, at least, he can tell Percival. Better to answer that than face up to the first question, the one that cuts far too deeply, that so few people have ever thought to ask. The one question in all the world that Cain least wants to answer. If he has to let slip a little more than he'd like about his night time activities to cover up that... then so be it. ] So stay here. Okay?

[ The lack of answer to the real question at hand doesn't escape him, and that is even more troubling. Percival draws back, but he doesn't seem to be headed out the door anymore. He still might, but part of him wants to strangle Cain himself instead.

Instead, he merely asks a question. ]

Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?

No.

[ An immediate answer, one that Cain doesn't have to spend even a second thinking about. No, there's not a single reason that he shouldn't trust Percival. No reason that he thinks he can't. That's never been the issue.

No, the problem is that Percival trusts him. Maybe. Maybe he doesn't, with this reaction, after how they left things last time Cain asked Percival to trust him. But... he knows that he's not a noble knight like Percival is. He's not noble at all. He's not someone trustworthy, and yet he wants Percival to trust him anyway.

He's afraid, he realizes. He's afraid of having Percival see too much of him and losing that trust, and the realization has him shaking, taking a quick, sharp breath before he can bring himself to say anything else. ]

No, never. I trust you.

[ The answer comes unexpectedly quick, with no hesitation behind it, and it's a stark contrast to how Cain has tiptoed around... everything else. ]

Then why do you refuse to confide anything in me?

[ How can he possibly answer that question? How can he answer that question without revealing everything of himself, all the jagged pieces that he knows he holds within him, broken when Torhid fell that never quite healed over? How can he answer that question without giving away everything that he's afraid of letting Percival see?

But he owes Percival an answer, and though reluctant, he doesn't shy away from that, even if he can't quite meet Percival's eyes. ]

...you care. You care so deeply.

[ He doesn't know if Percival will understand what he means. No, he doubts Percival will, and that's why he gives that answer. He refuses to tell Percival things, because Percival cares, and Percival will seek out the truth, and see all those broken edges, will see that Cain isn't noble and pure-hearted. He'll see that Cain is reckless and likely to get himself killed at any moment, and Cain's not sure what Percival will do — but he does know that it'll hurt Percival, the last thing that he wants to have happen. ]

[ Percival may be perceptive, but he can't read minds. And though he suspects that Cain might, just might hold valid reasons for acting the way that he does, for withholding so much, Percival's patience has grown too thin.

It still feels like a lack of trust, and if Cain wants to keep that sort of distance between them, perhaps he should honor it. ]

I grow tired of your excuses. [ He sighs, apparently worn down enough that he doesn't try to decipher that cryptic statement. ]

Rest. Or head back into the city allow them to finish what they started. It matters little to me.

[ A blatant lie, of course, and while he might have been stopped from heading out tonight, there's no guarantee he'll try to retrace Cain's steps some other day. They were both, apparently, much too accustomed to moving freely, with no one to answer to. ]

—I'm sorry.

[ All that he can offer Percival, now. He is sorry. Sorry that he doesn't want to get Percival involved, that he doesn't want to expose Percival to Takasugi and get Percival embroiled in the trouble Cain's gotten himself tangled in. Sorry that he can't find it in himself to trust Percival so easily as he'd like to about this, not when he needs to be able to move about freely and he's not sure that Percival wouldn't try to stop him.

And he's sorry that all of this is hurting Percival, most of all.

Cain sighs, shoulders slumping. He just feels tired now, more than anything else, even more than he had dragging himself home right after he'd been stabbed. ]

Will you at least sleep, too?

[ All the reassurance that he can offer. If he goes to bed, will Percival, also? ]

[ It may not seem like Percival takes the apology into consideration, but he does. Enough so that some of the bite to his temper is slightly diminished, even if the battle of stubborn wills remains at a tense tie. He remains quiet, leaving the question hanging for a moment while he returns to the cabinet and replaces the first aid kit. ]

Perhaps, in a moment. [ As much as he feels he needs to hold on to this anger, he can't. That is starting to be a common theme around Cain. ] Go.

[ Cain lingers, staring at Percival, studying him. There's so much more he could say, so much more that he wants to say, and at the same time, doesn't want to at all. But at least Percival seems to have softened, some of that anger bleeding away. It's enough, at least, that Cain feels like they can leave things for now.

He wishes suddenly, viscerally, that he still had the right to reach out and touch Percival's cheek — nothing more than that, just that briefest of touches, to feel the warmth of Percival's skin, to reassure himself that Percival is there, whole and well. But he doesn't have that right, and it's no one's fault but his own, he knows that.

Finally, Cain nods. He can at least trust Percival this much, some small way of making it up to the other man, even if it doesn't begin to make up for everything. ]

Good night, then. [ He adds, trying for his usual humor, wanting even a flicker of the normalcy between them: ] Don't stay up too much longer, or you'll run into Vane when he wakes up for his morning exercises.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

WHAT... is your favorite color? ][ open

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject