[ man it sure has been. a fucking day. io is just here in the medbay, having been doing a little pacing back and forth, there's a well-worn line, like they've done this before over and over again. the pacing. the pods are full up and it's been a fucking day and then some for all, so really there's nothing to do but wait. though they've somewhat paused said pacing, standing at their desk for a moment, hands quietly resting behind their back as they just sort of. dissociate into the desk.
footsteps get them to glance over, posture still stiff, still tense. unhappily: ]
[he has to be here. she's safe in there, he knows, but he still...
he saw her die. he watched the body of that bird stop glowing, lying motionless on the ground, before it came back to life.
his footing is unsteady, after trial yesterday and exerting himself too much again today while he desperately struck the barrier; gregor's wounds might be closed, but his arm hurts, his chest is sore, his legs are both complaining about continuing to hold him up. he takes a seat on a cot, at least, settling down heavily.]
[ they'll move, noting that unsteadiness, and if allowed, will help him over. if not, they're just going as well, dropping down onto the cot nearby. they lace their fingers together between their knees, hunched. ]
Seeing it, I imagine... feels like a nightmare... but she's stable... [ unhappily looking over at the pods, expression complicated ] ... Come... Let me look you over at least, while she's doing some healing herself, mm?
[thank fuck because honestly, he could really use a cig right now. gregor wastes no time in pulling out and lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag and obediently blowing the smoke up toward the vent.]
...guess your home and hers are a little similar in that way, huh. But yours didn't look as cold.
And... no. I live near the steppe... during the autumn, it's a far more dangerous time than the winter. But it never gets too frigid beyond what the Kin or the town can handle. A gift of the Earth herself, perhaps.
It's... nice when there isn't a plague eating everyone alive in sight.
[ wry smile. ]
The bulls on the steppe, the brides, the children... even the hokey city folk are fine when they're not spitting in my face.
The herbs... they act up in the autumn even still. Steal the life from you when they grow, give life back to you when you pluck and process them just right...
[ they don't expect that, but it isn't unwelcome. the hand curls over his, and io turns their palm over, albeit hesitant, their fingers drawing over knuckles. ]
It's like that. Visits me, in my dreams... taunts me... it rolls the die and it takes and then it says "run, butcher, run."
[ softer, gazing downwards. who has ever cared for the young? who? ]
No, what happened to my Murky... that... that was real... real as can be.
[ a shake of the head, slowly at first. ]
It took her, took each of my wards, tried to kill them after all I'd done to keep them alive. Didn't like that I was ahead of the game, so... it cheated. Fate doesn't matter when the thing you fight will rig the die in their favor each and every time.
There's not much that any of us can do. We don't-- we can't stop this. We don't know how, or even what's causing it, we're just... waiting 'til it happens and helping them out by killing them, because it's all we've got.
[a little frustrated, there.]
It's the only thing we can do, is save the ones of us we can. See if any of us are left at the end.
Mmm. You're right. It's what I know, but sometimes it pays to hear it from someone trusted...
[ a firm nod. ]
Today we were some kind of lucky.
[ they could have all been dead, each one and they still feel the dead weight of the bodies in their arms. they look ahead for a short while before turning to find his eyes again, briefly ]
Another awful week for the books... [ a huff ] She's very extraordinary, your Yuri.
[ a quiet guess considering the phrasing. the circumstances from today feel almost too on the nose, a phoenix from the ashes. they just keep holding that hand, because what else are they going to do? nothing. there's not much else they want to do for the moment. ]
[ the other hand shifts to just. cover his now. trapped. holding gentle, holding steady. their eyes glance at the remnants of gregor's own trials from this week. everything's fucked. thanks. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
W3 SUNDAY
footsteps get them to glance over, posture still stiff, still tense. unhappily: ]
Gregor... came to wait for Yura... yes?
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[he has to be here. she's safe in there, he knows, but he still...
he saw her die. he watched the body of that bird stop glowing, lying motionless on the ground, before it came back to life.
his footing is unsteady, after trial yesterday and exerting himself too much again today while he desperately struck the barrier; gregor's wounds might be closed, but his arm hurts, his chest is sore, his legs are both complaining about continuing to hold him up. he takes a seat on a cot, at least, settling down heavily.]
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[ they'll move, noting that unsteadiness, and if allowed, will help him over. if not, they're just going as well, dropping down onto the cot nearby. they lace their fingers together between their knees, hunched. ]
Seeing it, I imagine... feels like a nightmare... but she's stable... [ unhappily looking over at the pods, expression complicated ] ... Come... Let me look you over at least, while she's doing some healing herself, mm?
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She was dead. I know it didn't last, but she...
[...shaking his head. it still happened. it was real, for that time.]
...I'm fine. Just pushed it.
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[ making a small tch sound ]
Yes and if you push it you'll be stuck here longer than you'd like... hm? No one wants to be stuck with the doctor.
[ a tilt of the head ]
And I would rather see to it that you are taken care of... Rodya, Yura, they'd want you well, too.
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[come on, io. as if he doesn't hang out with you outside of the medbay.]
...you call her the same thing Rodya does.
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opening the vents wide. they hiss with cold air. ]
This is an occasion where I'll allow it. Blow upwards.
[ it's been a long day. they step back down and return to sit, contemplating the remark. ]
Reminds me more of home... feels right.
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[thank fuck because honestly, he could really use a cig right now. gregor wastes no time in pulling out and lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag and obediently blowing the smoke up toward the vent.]
...guess your home and hers are a little similar in that way, huh. But yours didn't look as cold.
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[ nodding quietly. ]
And... no. I live near the steppe... during the autumn, it's a far more dangerous time than the winter. But it never gets too frigid beyond what the Kin or the town can handle. A gift of the Earth herself, perhaps.
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[well.]
Your work.
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[ wry smile. ]
The bulls on the steppe, the brides, the children... even the hokey city folk are fine when they're not spitting in my face.
The herbs... they act up in the autumn even still. Steal the life from you when they grow, give life back to you when you pluck and process them just right...
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[hey io??
damn for once the city has a challenger for worst place to come from]
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[ they rub their neck slowly, a dull crack coming from it. ]
A Plague that is as alive as— [ and unfortunately, there's one last quick show for the road, a thin tear that breaks through with a shred of memory.
they just. sit there, knuckles white. ]
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it steals the breath from him, eyes stinging a bit in the aftermath of it. so small, but so ill. too young for it, but-
since when has the world ever cared about someone being too young? it didn't for him. shoma. too many.
gregor says nothing. he just reaches over and lets his human hand curl over one of io's.]
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It's like that. Visits me, in my dreams... taunts me... it rolls the die and it takes and then it says "run, butcher, run."
[ softer, gazing downwards. who has ever cared for the young? who? ]
So I do what I can. I run.
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[or was that real?]
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[ a shake of the head, slowly at first. ]
It took her, took each of my wards, tried to kill them after all I'd done to keep them alive. Didn't like that I was ahead of the game, so... it cheated. Fate doesn't matter when the thing you fight will rig the die in their favor each and every time.
[ slowly, they let loose a breath. ]
Sorry.
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[they don't need to apologize for this. not for any of it.]
...sounds like this plague was really putting you through hell. And then ending up here, where we just keep dying--
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[ that is the question. for what? where we just keep dying. ]
There are people who truly love this kind of misery. They live for plays like this.
[ softer ] We deserve to be free of it.
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[a little frustrated, there.]
It's the only thing we can do, is save the ones of us we can. See if any of us are left at the end.
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[ a firm nod. ]
Today we were some kind of lucky.
[ they could have all been dead, each one and they still feel the dead weight of the bodies in their arms. they look ahead for a short while before turning to find his eyes again, briefly ]
Another awful week for the books... [ a huff ] She's very extraordinary, your Yuri.
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[after a second of silence, a pause-]
She-- deserved to have this chance. To get to live again.
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[ a quiet guess considering the phrasing. the circumstances from today feel almost too on the nose, a phoenix from the ashes. they just keep holding that hand, because what else are they going to do? nothing. there's not much else they want to do for the moment. ]
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[he couldn't stop it. he couldn't save her.
...just like today.
his grip on their hand is a little tighter.]
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Salt in the wound.
[ the other hand shifts to just. cover his now. trapped. holding gentle, holding steady. their eyes glance at the remnants of gregor's own trials from this week. everything's fucked. thanks. ]
You don't need to answer this, but... how...?
[ they will ask, they will offer. ]
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