Somehow he had expected something rather more severe than that, by the way Elidibus was mincing his words. Like drunken benders, snorting mysterious substances off of doe-eyed au ra girls. Maybe things weren't quite so dire as Thancred's adventures have led him to believe.
"It is." He sounds a little puzzled at the idea that salty snacks might in any way help do anything but increase thirst. That's just not how it worked, a pretzel didn't have enough nutrients in it to do anything worthwhile. "If the tavern owner wished to slow inebriation, he'd water his drinks instead. Salt merely encourages it."
How ridiculous!
Of course, if such a tale is sown, then it would encourage patrons to eat, and then drink more, so it's likely one of those ongoing deceptions that people assume are true simply because everyone says it is. "How long did it take for you to reach a state of impairment?"
A more concerned person might suggest Elidibus not touch alcohol ever again. Lahabrea isn't one of these people. Obviously Elidibus survived the experience, and his only actual warnings are to the deceptive practices of certain barkeeps. So bland is his reaction in fact that it might be tacit approval - no flare of sharp irritation or anger, aside from the baseline ongoing trouble.
One must remember this is Elidibus. The misjudgment itself was something of an embarrassment. Every time he feels reasonably secure in the mortal host, something else happens.
"I doubt the man I was speaking with would have recommended a place where the owner was known for the practice of watering down his drinks," Elidibus answers dryly. That much he could pick up, even if it hadn't been said in so many words.
But how much had he been able to take in before he'd been impaired? This is a good question and one which the Ascian takes a few moments to reflect on. "I am unsure," is offered after a moment. "While my mind seemed to possess some clarity, this host's movements were difficult to control when I first stood." This much he is certain of. "Perhaps... four or five servings of ale?" Serving being relative. Whether he had anything else other than drink was also relative. "Hm. There were more, but I seem to be having trouble recollecting a precise accounting." Which he seems to find a little annoying. Recent memories don't fade as quickly. But especially since he came to this world, his recollection of details has been especially sharp. "I did not expect the impact to be so severe."
Yes, Elidibus did think he could willpower through alcohol. At least the lesson's learned. It certainly won't stop him, but he'll be more cautious.
"Therefore he's interested in selling more drink, not offering sobriety cures. Tis the impairment of judgment that is most vital." As Elidibus has discovered, drinking over his limit and apparently suffering for it!
But there's no real reproach, some lessons need to be learned in person and not simply told. Especially in the case of the Emissary, who might summarily choose to abstain entirely and miss out on plenty of interesting drinks simply to avoid a risk. "After a point it does blur together," he says, as if working through memories not his own. Which is precisely what he's doing in fact, he didn't retain overmuch from his time as Thancred, but the bits he retained were useful in their way. "Some mortals consider it a high point of socialization, if you're willing to drink to the point of not remembering. You may have ingratiated yourself to this individual by doing so."
Maybe encouragement, maybe not, it's hard to tell. Lahabrea's not elaborating further, if only because the details elude him; instead he settles in place a bit more comfortably, shifting this way and that in such a fashion that Elidibus might get jostled a bit before returning to something like stillness.
It's enough for now. It did answer his question, it did mean Elidibus has found another potential source of information and who knows what else, and Lahabrea wasn't going to interfere. Endless ignorance of even the obvious aside, Elidibus could handle himself quite well, and there was no need to worry over-much about most of what this city could bring to bear. Most of it could be handled quite well with a sudden axe to the face.
For all intents and purposes it doesn't seem like Lahabrea intends to add anything else.
Sobriety cures will be researched. On that account, Elidibus will likely take time to make sure what he's told is proven. And he's intelligent enough to recognize 'drinking more booze is a cure for the after-effects of booze'. "Time will tell. I remember nothing unfavorable about our conversation." ...One hopes there was nothing unfavorable forgotten. Indeed, time will tell.
The advice, such as is offered is accepted with a nod. Getting an understanding of how various drinks effects sobriety is definitely on the list. There's a bottle of gin and one of honey mead waiting for such experiments upstairs. The third bottle is not for his personal consumption, of course.
It's easy to let the conversation end there, though the Emissary frowns a little bit as he's jostled. A matter he might not have been aware of being annoyed about because as soon as Lahabrea is obviously not getting up, the Ascian's expression clears.
So they fall into silence. It's not as awkward as one might think; simply a period where one doesn't feel the need to talk. After a while, Elidibus's hand stops scratching along Lahabrea's side. He settles against Lahabrea, though he half suspects the host body's idiosyncrasies are at work rather than his own intent. "I am going to sleep now." His arms are crossed over his stomach. And with the dragon Lahabrea still in contact, it comes with an odd sense of security. Well, he isn't very familiar with that either, so it'll be up to the Speaker to pick up on that through the Bond before it gets buried.
"...I wish to speak to you again. If you will avoid sleeping through the entirety of the next few...suns." Decades or centuries are words more customary to the slumbers he's seen his fellow Ascian go through. Especially Emet-Selch. A few days is such a silly thing to be stressed over. "...I would appreciate it." So please, no drugs.
Without further conversation, or questions, the body's needs will take over and he'll eventually drift off to slumber. But there may be much that happens between now and the dawn of morning. A dragon in the full moon. The matter of pants. And of course the chance of dreams.
There's nothing terrible about silence and stillness save Lahabrea favors neither and had little to focus himself upon beyond the moons' inevitable weight upon his actions and interests. It leaves a constant undercurrent, more tangible with the constant steady contact, to the quiet. Soothed somewhat, but not entirely by the presence of another at least; whether or not the bars were useful - and the seed of doubt planted as to whether they would hold or not, rendering that sanctuary of certainty utterly useless and setting up for problems in the future perhaps - they at least allowed for a smaller, more closed off space.
Intimate, even if disturbing in its way.
"I don't have the means to render myself unconscious for that long," is the reluctant response. "Else I would use it." He would, whether or not Elidibus wanted to talk. It would not calm the storm but it would render it utterly ignorable, and that was as far as he was concerned, a perfect ideal. The risk remained, for all that it was for the moment dampened a bit even without the soothing rub of fingertips on scale; what might get said or done that would spike smoldering fury into blind wrath and lead him to lash out with terrible consequences?
The thought sat uncomfortably alongside the vague sense of security that bled through their bond. He could so easily betray that trust, without ever intending to.
But he'll still be there when Elidibus wakes. If he himself dozes off at any point it's not really easy to tell, but in the passage of hour upon hour in quiet and warmth, the Emissary remains for the most part undisturbed and unawoken.
Save perhaps a silent monitoring of temperature, and if the room grows too hot for what Lahabrea knows mortals tolerate easily, do something about that without actually untangling enough to get up ... and maybe the tinge of red to dreams that might otherwise not be there, like fires on the distant horizon.
Dreams, Elidibus has learned, come with mortal slumber. And for the most part, he has ignored them as nonsensical images. Mostly. Of course, there were a few things ingrained deep within his soul that would never be forgotten. Fire in the distance.
And a rain of fire in the sky.
As the Emissary drifts off to sleep, some hope might be found. The emotionless nature remains strong, but there is a sense that some of it is of conscious making. Some of it refusal to fall prey to emotions, this is true. But also a fight not to fall into the void and simply become nothing. Not just for the sake of everyone else, but also his own.
Is it any surprise a sense of heat and distant fire would give rise to memories of the Final Days in his dreams? Though perhaps the fleeting glimpse of watching a twisted mix of Aefenglom and a distant twist of Amaurotine towers. The rain of fire a distant scene. Elidibus turns to say something to... is that a dragon?
But the dream shifts before anything is head. Still, it might have been somewhat familiar.
Elidibus at peace with himself, surrendering to the aether fed to him, reshaping his existence into a vessel... a heart.
But deep within the amethyst void, awareness. Prayers cried out. Voices of thousands unceasing. Risen not in pleasant debate but fearful argument. They called and he answered.
It's out of order, but also the fragmented memory of the Convocation Speaker and another member, speaking to him about his dedication to duty. Still barely recognized, though Lahabrea's mask now replaces a featureless red and in that dream, Elidibus seems on the cusp of almost knowing who they were.
Yet they withdraw and vanish as he reaches out to them yet again.
Precious little of this is dreams, though undoubtedly Elidibus would call it such if asked. These instead are nightmares.
In the passage of the first several hours of the night, his host body does stir, does sweat. His mind drifts between the state of dreaming and deeper slumber, but never at rest. And not just because there is too much heat.
There is nothing deliberate in an effort to share a dream, or experience it, or see if it might be influenced. While admittedly Lahabrea is curious, too concerned is he that he might poison any potential dreams that might come with the dragon's eternal, endless ferocity and wrath. Terrible enough that he had to endure it, to inflict it on another ... especially one so rare in his own emotions that it might not be recognized as an external source?
No.
He couldn't allow it. He could't let the beast drag them both down.
But over the passage of time, Lahabrea too grows tired. In spite of his firm alliance with Zodiark he was ever a creature of diurnal habits, and staying awake all night every night was beyond him. The dragon weighs on it, for it too prefers the daylight to the night, and only once he's certain Elidibus isn't about to sweat him into soddenness with feathery absorption does he allow his awareness to fade. In time it means moving again, a slow and unwaking shift until he has the rather smaller Ascian thoroughly wrapped in arms and tail; where there cold to be had, it wouldn't reach there, in a shroud of crimson and gold.
And in dreams, a spark of fire of a different hue weaves across the burning distant horizon. It's there, again and again.
A flash of feathers and streaming fiery tail as meteors crawl inevitably groundward, bright and shining and as far away as those meteors themselves. The glass and steel of mixed Amaurotine and Aefenglom construction reflect no meteorfall, but that distant burning spot does.
It's easy to miss. There's so much else going on.
But it's there. It's always there, when it shouldn't be, a faraway gleam within a shroud of darkness, one more voice rising in the chorus of fear and horror and confusion. A forgotten melody, high and wild and full of an elation so intense it is pain; it doesn't belong here.
It belongs here. It's always been there. Hadn't it?
Hadn't it?
There's a sound, as Elidibus reaches towards futile disappearing forms. If a hearthfire had a song, if flame could soothe, gentle what it touches, if the merry crackle of a bonfire on a cool autumn night had music of its own, then it would be that sound. It doesn't drown out the darkness, it never could. But what it can do is seed the dark with a million pinpoints of burning light shaken off its wings in showers of sparks.
"The song too heals, like its magic. If it is allowed to. It cannot live in an unwilling heart."
In the distance, a spark dances - flaming wings and burning tail and an eye as bright as the dawn, not ... quite the shape of a dragon. A bird, only a bird, though at most one of its kind ever in existence at any given moment, and its claws shape the distant stars into recognizable formations, one by one.
It's a strange night. One of warmth and dreams, nightmares and heat.
At the dreams begin to cross into a realm which by any right could be deemed 'nightmare', there are... stars.
They do not fall in a rain of flame and terror. The sparks instead are lifted on wings (not a dragon, but feathers, heat... song) and shaped into stars. Countless symbols of hope. Then those stars are themselves shaped, the beginning of tales long forgott--
To say Elidibus is a little surprised when he awakens may be an understatement. There is intense confusion and some discomfort as the Ascian becomes aware that it is not wrapped in a blanket in an over-warm room. This is another living individual. Complete with a heartbeat, the steady rise and fall from breathing, and the tactile sensation of feathers and scale against hyur flesh.
Much more than he remembers baring last night. It appears in the interests of comfort, but his own and the dragon's concern for sweat-soaked feathers, Elidibus has been divested of pants. Only smallclothes remain. He takes a while to reflect on his condition and what he.... 'feels' about it. Oh, the near-nudity is not what bothers the Emissary. It's certainly not about 'sexual' intimacy that could be construed from the circumstances. Such matters just do not register.
Elidibus wonders if this would have been how he awakened on a night where the full moon hadn't been affecting Lahabrea's behaviors. Or more to the point, will this be what he needs to expect in the future? The Ascian gazes at the top of the steel cage. Tonight may have been a risk, but it was not without results.
And ah yes. Dragging himself- somewhat reluctantly- back to the thought of how he feels. A dim memory of song tugs at his mind. Something from his dreams? It's too new and the content, both good and bad, somewhat ephemeral as it is. The Ascian isn't too fond of dreaming, yet. It's like an even more confusing array of fragmented memories into which errors accrue. It's just as well they mostly fade when he wakes up.
Then there's this virtually unfettered tangle of bodies to weigh. Elidibus can't say he feels like a victim of circumstance. Here and there he obviously tried to make himself more comfortable. Legs tried to escape and get a bit cooler air, only to end up wrapped around (or wrapped back up) by tail and... Lahabrea's legs.
There are a few places where the Ascian can probably work his way free. An arm, for instance. Part of his leg. Another leg.. tug... hmm. It seems other bits are going to be difficult without tugging and threatening to disturb Lahabrea and Elidibus is not sure what frame of mind his Bonded is going to wake in. So finally, he offers in a bland voice.
"Lahabrea. Are you awake?"
If the dragon is awake, he might notice the small trace of tears upon the Emissary's face before they are completely dry. Elidibus does not seem aware. Perhaps he thought it nothing more than a trace of sweat brought on by the room and his sleeping partner.
The other very much is not; sleep is not something Lahabrea welcomes, it interrupts endless work that needed to be done, and being comfortable enough with his surroundings to bother was rarer yet, but there was something strangely comforting about having someone else there. Maybe he'd been taking the wrong track these past millennia, and should have sought company earlier. A strange and unexpected balm, comfort where none was really expected ... surely the result of a bond and not some neglected need for company he's been ignoring all this time.
Were they any others but themselves, stripping Elidibus of most of what remained of his clothing would certainly have been a lead-in to things guaranteed to cause even more sweat and heat - but neither are inclined, and such a thing was practicality only.
Besides, he kept it hot enough in this house where clothing was for decency alone, not necessity.
As soon as Elidibus so much as twitches, there's a brief change in warm breath before it steadies again, but now the dragon's awake. He's not moving, but he's absolutely awake, and as the Emissary tugs and pulls a little bit in a vague attempt to free himself, Lahabrea is quietly utterly uncooperative.
It's thoroughly inappropriate, he supposes, but isn't that what other bonds do? Inconvenience each other in a constant parade of small petty and mostly harmless ways?
"Mm." He's awake. Mostly, anyway, that undercurrent of endless wrath hasn't stirred itself back up yet, though it surely inevitably would. Another day.. or two ... and that might become easier to contend with, to bury, but for now ... there's being a mild inconvenience in keeping Elidibus a little tangled up.
There is the scent of tears alongside the smell of sweat. What dreams had plagued, to cause such a thing? He didn't remember. "You stink." It's quiet, barely more than a murmur.
No he doesn't. And who's fault would it be if he did, anyway? Elidibus isn't the living furnace here.
Not at first. They're tangled up pretty tightly, after all and it stands to reason that being careful about extrication does mean some resistance. Still, puzzling out limbs shouldn't be taking this long and it seems every time the Ascian makes progress, there's another metaphorical knot to work loose.
So he relaxes and calls out to see if Lahabrea is 'awake'. Letting sleeping dragons lie (about being asleep) need not continue. The moment a vaguely affirmative 'mm' is offered, blue eyes are turned upward to find Lahabrea's face.
There is also a faint sniff of the air. Well, a hyur's nose isn't going to be too fine about it, but there's the smell of sweat that's undoubtedly not the dragon, among whatever dragon smells come from feathers, scales, and heat. And without much judgment, Elidibus answers, "Indeed. I will be glad to master magicks which will minimize the work it takes to keep it clean." It'll be too late by then. He'll be addicted to the concept of a hot bath or shower. "Of course you realize I could have attended to the matter some minutes ago, had you not seen fit to complicate matters?"
Without much judgment. And despite something that's almost like dry humor and an answer about the condition of his body that was too pragmatic, Elidibus doesn't seem too put out.
"...May I inquire as to the location of my trousers?"
It is well known that Lahabrea doesn't in fact possess a sense of humor that he'll admit to, nor that he actually enjoys anything but the suffering of others, so clearly none of that can be happening. There is nothing of gentleness in the Abyssal Celebrant, so anything like it must be an illusion, some deceit for some unknown purpose.
But he continues to quietly make a nuisance of himself, the dimmest, barest flickers of amusement crossing their bond. It's too easy to do with the size difference between them and having an entire extra limb up on Elidibus. In this strange liminal moment, it might be easy to forget there had been bloodthirsty fury, or hunger or the edges of moon-madness. Certainly it can't last, it wouldn't last, and very likely no-one else would be allowed such an indignity as Lahabrea idly working on keeping them entangled with the subtlest of little motions.
It's a good thing he doesn't have his wings yet, else he'd use those too. "Of course, of course." He still hasn't raised his voice. There were bathing opportunities to be had upstairs! And hot running water to go with it, because it's about the only sort he can even tolerate, and then it's the smell of wet feathers for HOURS but Elidibus wo't have that problem.
"....Mmm.. over there somewhere." There's a nebulous gesture with one hand, and with it the barest openings of escape. Honestly he hadn't paid much attention, they were in the way and causing more sweat and it wasn't necessary besides. How utterly scandalous this would be in another situation.. "Do you remember your dreams? I smell salt." Tears.
It is not from a sense of humor surely. yet as it is not denied that Lahabrea had been obstructing Elidibus as was suggested, this must mean he's being true to his enjoyment of others' suffering. Right?
But Lahabrea would know there isn't much frustration rising in Elidibus. Lots of patience and reasoned debate, but suffering isn't there. Would that not mean this might, however unlikely, mean that between enjoyment of suffering and actual amusement, the emotion fleetingly felt with the Bond is, in fact, the hallmarks of a sense of humor?
An opening or a trap? Elidibus will seek to use the opportunity to sit up. There is some success, perhaps. After all, he's only testing a bit but not actually seeking to surge out of Lahabrea's hold.
"Why are you asking about... ah, yes. The Bond." Elidibus would have begun to ponder whether he remembers any of the images which might have crossed over the Bond from Lahabrea. It didn't occur to him at first that Lahabrea meant his own dreams.
But then, the word 'salt' really strikes home. A reference that Elidibus does not take long to puzzle, by the way he raises a hand to brush a few fingers near his eyes. The tears are dry but there's still a trace to feel and... marvel over? It's absolutely certain now that he'd not been aware. "What is this?"
Elidibus knows what tears are. This is not what he's asking, almost to himself as though he momentarily forgot Lahabrea's presence. Forgot to mimic his own tones and thus asked the rhetoric with Ardbert's natural voice. His jaw snaps shut moments later which suggests he realizes the brief loss of control. When he speaks again, Elidibus has collected himself.
"Fragments. They were... nonsensical as ever," he murmurs absently and almost indifferent. But however reluctant the answer is given, it is indeed an answer that doesn't quite dismiss the matter.
Zodiark was a dragon. Flames on the horizon were... hope? And mix this with the usual, waking nightmare of fruitlessly chasing what little recollection of Amaurot he still has. Prayers reaching out, gripping and molding him until he could no longer recognize himself--
"I can't remember anything which would cause this." For a second there is an acrid sting of bitterness across the Bond. And then defenses are rising. "These 'tears' are more like to be yet another physical response of this host I can no longer control."
It's a fancy way of saying he must have dust in his eyes. Elidibus isn't fooling anyone in the room with it. But he will try to end the conversation by continuing to wend his way out of the nest of dragon and bean bag. There's plenty of excuses to do so. Find trousers. Get out of the cage. Take a bath. Wash away any proof that tears were ever-present. He's about to set his feet down on the floor of the cage.
Bare feet. And he seems to have forgotten about the shards of obsidian scattered around.
Entertainment pursued too long turns fun into annoyance easily, and Lahabrea relents before it gets that far. There's still a level of not-quite-comfort; he knows how bonds are supposed to work, and what is accepted as normal behavior between bonded, but even though the line has already been crossed into what will certainly later strike him as peculiar and uncomfortable, letting Elidibus go also means an allowance for a bit more distance.
What's this?
"Something must have been distressing, recalled or not." He knows not what though, and can't begin to guess. Though he knows he dreams every time he sleeps, those dreams inevitably fade to nothingness by the time he wakes, leaving him with no images in their passing.
Dreams weren't supposed to be sensible. "It's rare for anyone to remember their dreams, past the very moment of waking, which is why I asked now and not later. They fade for all, like fog beneath the sun. In another few bells, if there's anything left at all to recall, it would be unusual." Reassurance, of a sort, to that surge of bitterness. This ... this isn't Elidibus' broken relation to the world and everything in it including himself, it's merely how things were.
They weren't meant to last. That was the point of dreams. A brief exercise in imagination and emotion as a mind struggles with its daily life. A biological necessity. But not a lingering one.
Escaping, for the moment, isn't difficult, though there is a sudden movement from the dragon as Elidibus attempts to stand to quite abruptly grab Elidibus and heft him right off the floor, setting him instead to one quarter-turn to the side in a little flash of irritation. He remembers the shards, and that work he'd been up to, surely Elidibus could damn well remember it too, it wasn't centuries ago.. "Watch your step."
Getting somewhat free allows Elidibus to understand how hot Lahabrea's body temperature really is. While he knows the room has not cooled down and there would certainly be no need to worry about his state of undress causing a chill, it still feels refreshing. Drafts drying the sweat might be a part of that, but there's definitely a distinct difference between dragon and room's ambient climate.
Only a small part of his mind is dedicated to musing this matter. There are tears to wonder about. An assessment on the nature of dreams to listen to. While Elidibus very much wants to be vehemently dismissive of considering dreams as to be anything relevant, it's too much ingrained in his nature to not listen as insight is given. Especially when it is a peer.
Had Elidibus ever slept during his long vigil? It would be unlikely. And even if he had, any memory of 'dreaming' would be long discarded. There is little doubt the experience is entirely novel from his perspective. And thus, Lahabrea's knowledge is able to break through the burgeoning walls within the Emissary. He nods in acceptance of the explanation and shows signs of relaxing. Biology. The biology of a host he's imprisoned in is a concept Elidibus can cope with. It's not... him.
"I am not overly fond of the experience," the Ascian slowly answers. He ponders over Lahabrea's earlier question and its connection to the tears. Or the Bond. Perhaps both? "Though if there is some merit to do so, I will endeavor to write down what fragments I do remember, on awakening." Being brought to tear? Stray memories he no longer consciously remembers? Probably not what Elidibus meant. If the dreams were his own or Lahabrea's? More relevant. The Emissary's tone makes it sound like he's making a great concession in offering to record his dreams.
It's not like he forgot the obsidian shards were there. Truly. So lost in the moment of a great many thoughts, he had allowed himself to start wending free on autopilot and... well, fortunately, Lahabrea was not nearly so caught up in his own thoughts. Elidibus very nearly doesn't notice how he's picked up and shifted to a safe spot on the cage floor. Nearly.
He does frown a bit in puzzlement as he notices his feet seem to completely miss the floor. This nagging little downturn of lips continues until he's shifted and set down again. Elidibus slowly spins in place to look at Lahabrea. The speaker looks irritated. Then to the floor where he has been set and the shard-strewn floor where he'd been about to step. Oh.
"My apologies." For inconveniencing Lahabrea. It's like a thank you. Looking around some more, he spies his trousers. His top is easily found as he'd personally set that aside. "I will return shortly. Unless you wish to continue speaking. Then you are welcome to join me."
He really does understand that wouldn't be something you say to mortals without sounding like he's insinuating something else. Here, he doesn't have to worry about such tedious misunderstandings. And he probably doesn't literally mean 'in the bath', so much as 'in conversational range'.
He abruptly frowns and, looking down, gives the trousers a quick shake. From one of the legs rolls a somewhat indignant Cherry Bomb. There is a resigned sigh. It's probably just as well he's managed to pick up some basics in mending spells.
"I do not think that necessary, unless you recall something particularly interesting." It's apparently not something Lahabrea considers even remotely important, just potentially diverting. Dream sharing was one of the things bonds were supposed to do, but as far as he can tell nothing of the sort had happened. They might be too early in their work to tell. "And I do mean 'interesting', not ... necessarily relevant. Sometimes the imagery that lingers from a dream can be inspiring, but hardly vital. A great many works of art and creation have come from the strange moments of dreams." But they also get by without them just fine!
Interesting, but not vital.
Now that sleep is definitely past and the comfortable haze with it fading, the undercurrent of ill temper is rising again, as it inevitably must. The dragon had its own interests and wants for the morning, and he's ignoring all of them. He focuses instead on making sure Elidibus doesn't slice his feet open, watching with narrowed eyes as the bomb is shaken loose from a trouser leg.
So that's where it went. By now, Lahabrea's fairly certain it only makes a nuisance of itself because it gets away with it, the dragon-changed Ascian would have pingponged the little creature right into the wall after the first time, well aware such a thing wouldn't actually harm it. Elidibus was ... far gentler than he would have been.
"I am not inclined to leave my confinement, even if you feel it worthless," he responds eventually. "Not while the moons retain their sway. Even a few moments of delayed struggle betwixed me and my target might be enough for an escape." And not bloody, horrifying demise!
Plus it saves the temptation of wanting to bathe, when water was fairly uncomfortable. There had to be alternatives.
Interesting. Elidibus can do interesting at least. Though a small frown mars his features briefly as he ponders over 'interesting not vital'. The Ascian's expression clears and he nods. "Alright." He'll do it. In a way, Lahabrea's suggestion to view it with an eye for art or inspiration helps make up the Emissary's mind. It gives it a 'use', even if it is not 'vital'.
That Bomb. A large part of Elidibus' lack of schooling the creature's behavior is indifference. Pants can be mended, especially now he's learned basic spells. A hole or two in his pants because the beast acts on its nature. The proper emotions just aren't there to drive him to discipline the Cherry Bomb. Even when the creature had managed to make it into the chest, it had made Elidibus note to be more aware when closing the lid; another thing to check on a list of routine.
The Bomb is given a light nudge with a foot to shift it away from the safe path across the cage floor. And it seems the Ascian is more aware of the possibility of obsidian shards underfoot, for he picks a safe path to the door. There is a moment's pause as Elidibus considers the reason Lahabrea intends to stay in the cage. It doesn't quite... align with his observations of when they were first waking. But one five or ten minutes of 'peace' gives no context. Anyway, the Ascian has no intention of remarking on the difference right now, even if he had a better understanding to go by. "Very well." The door is unlocked, opened, and sealed again.
"I did not say the bars were worthless." Those bars are very important. For Lahabrea, it has been, until last night perhaps, a way to keep the beast in one place when he lost his sense of self on the full moons. To Elidibus, they seem a physical representation of what his fellow Unsundered is fighting against. To dismiss them at this point would be detrimental to his goal of aiding Lahabrea.
And yes. If he's on the far side of the bars should a feral attack occur, he would indeed have a few seconds to react.
It seems he'll leave matters at that, at least for as long as it takes to mend his pants and wash up. Though before he leaves, he'll ask, "Shall I bring the dustpan before I go?" He will if so. Otherwise, he'll just bring one back. Because he does plan on returning.
Punishing a bomb is a delicate process even if one were so inclined to do so. When prodded with a foot it makes indignant motions with its tiny hands and floats to the side, though whether by its own volition or helped along by a nudge is hard to tell when the creature in question doesn't walk.
"Ah, but you did." He coils around himself as best as he's able to, though he lacks the flexibility some have with their reptilian tails. "Though you may know it not." Important to him ... before Elidibus had gone out of his way to point out that they would hold neither against a dragon's strength nor contain a small shapeshifted form. Useless - and puncturing an illusion he'd been hesitant to weigh for too long simply in the hopes that if he ignored it, the dragon wouldn't think to test it. But he no longer could, and he was aware of how steel fared against a beast of his ilk, which meant the dragon would be too.
Lahabrea doesn't explain this, he turns his thoughts mostly towards unraveling what he might do to otherwise secure some semblance of safety for others now that this was no longer suitable. It would delay only, and then not for long .. and then woe betide anyone he came across in such a state. "... No. I will be returning to such work soon enough."
A focus. Something to do. "..Mayhap it would be advisable you tend to other needs once you are clean than sitting around down here."
When did he? For a brief moment, it is clear Elidibus casts around for a memory of saying it. For once, he's certain it is not a problem with his failing memories and he is rewarded for his persistence with a pieced-together answer. It may not be the correct one, but it is an answer. After a little more time, he finally chooses a response. "My apologies."
But the.... dragon? Lahabrea? Had shown no sign of interest in leaving the cage that night. The Emissary wonders if he should bring the matter up now, to see to his ablutions and return with the conversation on his lips. Or leave for errands and bring up the matter that night when he returns. For his fellow Ascian had a point that he did not need to stay around all day. A balance of attendance and keeping an ordinary, such as it got here, routine. It had merit.
"There are a few matters I can see to," Elidibus agrees. "Mayhap when I return this evening, you would tell me how your day progressed. If the effects of having a Bonded sleep in your care it is notated for reference, it can be compared to the successive days and previous iterations of the full moon's sway you have experienced."
The Ascian nods. No dustpan or broom. He'll wait long enough to hear Lahabrea's response on the suggestion that they continue this 'experiment' this evening before he departs. As for his errands? Well, he'll certainly be willing to stop by long enough to make sure Lahabrea doesn't want him to pick up something while he's out.
He would later wonder why he had made it and not simply expected Lahabrea to tell him before he'd left the room earlier.
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Date: 7 Feb 2021 16:12 (UTC)"It is." He sounds a little puzzled at the idea that salty snacks might in any way help do anything but increase thirst. That's just not how it worked, a pretzel didn't have enough nutrients in it to do anything worthwhile. "If the tavern owner wished to slow inebriation, he'd water his drinks instead. Salt merely encourages it."
How ridiculous!
Of course, if such a tale is sown, then it would encourage patrons to eat, and then drink more, so it's likely one of those ongoing deceptions that people assume are true simply because everyone says it is. "How long did it take for you to reach a state of impairment?"
A more concerned person might suggest Elidibus not touch alcohol ever again. Lahabrea isn't one of these people. Obviously Elidibus survived the experience, and his only actual warnings are to the deceptive practices of certain barkeeps. So bland is his reaction in fact that it might be tacit approval - no flare of sharp irritation or anger, aside from the baseline ongoing trouble.
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Date: 8 Feb 2021 01:18 (UTC)"I doubt the man I was speaking with would have recommended a place where the owner was known for the practice of watering down his drinks," Elidibus answers dryly. That much he could pick up, even if it hadn't been said in so many words.
But how much had he been able to take in before he'd been impaired? This is a good question and one which the Ascian takes a few moments to reflect on. "I am unsure," is offered after a moment. "While my mind seemed to possess some clarity, this host's movements were difficult to control when I first stood." This much he is certain of. "Perhaps... four or five servings of ale?" Serving being relative. Whether he had anything else other than drink was also relative. "Hm. There were more, but I seem to be having trouble recollecting a precise accounting." Which he seems to find a little annoying. Recent memories don't fade as quickly. But especially since he came to this world, his recollection of details has been especially sharp. "I did not expect the impact to be so severe."
Yes, Elidibus did think he could willpower through alcohol. At least the lesson's learned. It certainly won't stop him, but he'll be more cautious.
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Date: 8 Feb 2021 23:45 (UTC)But there's no real reproach, some lessons need to be learned in person and not simply told. Especially in the case of the Emissary, who might summarily choose to abstain entirely and miss out on plenty of interesting drinks simply to avoid a risk. "After a point it does blur together," he says, as if working through memories not his own. Which is precisely what he's doing in fact, he didn't retain overmuch from his time as Thancred, but the bits he retained were useful in their way. "Some mortals consider it a high point of socialization, if you're willing to drink to the point of not remembering. You may have ingratiated yourself to this individual by doing so."
Maybe encouragement, maybe not, it's hard to tell. Lahabrea's not elaborating further, if only because the details elude him; instead he settles in place a bit more comfortably, shifting this way and that in such a fashion that Elidibus might get jostled a bit before returning to something like stillness.
It's enough for now. It did answer his question, it did mean Elidibus has found another potential source of information and who knows what else, and Lahabrea wasn't going to interfere. Endless ignorance of even the obvious aside, Elidibus could handle himself quite well, and there was no need to worry over-much about most of what this city could bring to bear. Most of it could be handled quite well with a sudden axe to the face.
For all intents and purposes it doesn't seem like Lahabrea intends to add anything else.
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Date: 9 Feb 2021 05:42 (UTC)The advice, such as is offered is accepted with a nod. Getting an understanding of how various drinks effects sobriety is definitely on the list. There's a bottle of gin and one of honey mead waiting for such experiments upstairs. The third bottle is not for his personal consumption, of course.
It's easy to let the conversation end there, though the Emissary frowns a little bit as he's jostled. A matter he might not have been aware of being annoyed about because as soon as Lahabrea is obviously not getting up, the Ascian's expression clears.
So they fall into silence. It's not as awkward as one might think; simply a period where one doesn't feel the need to talk. After a while, Elidibus's hand stops scratching along Lahabrea's side. He settles against Lahabrea, though he half suspects the host body's idiosyncrasies are at work rather than his own intent. "I am going to sleep now." His arms are crossed over his stomach. And with the dragon Lahabrea still in contact, it comes with an odd sense of security. Well, he isn't very familiar with that either, so it'll be up to the Speaker to pick up on that through the Bond before it gets buried.
"...I wish to speak to you again. If you will avoid sleeping through the entirety of the next few...suns." Decades or centuries are words more customary to the slumbers he's seen his fellow Ascian go through. Especially Emet-Selch. A few days is such a silly thing to be stressed over. "...I would appreciate it." So please, no drugs.
Without further conversation, or questions, the body's needs will take over and he'll eventually drift off to slumber. But there may be much that happens between now and the dawn of morning. A dragon in the full moon. The matter of pants. And of course the chance of dreams.
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Date: 9 Feb 2021 15:41 (UTC)Intimate, even if disturbing in its way.
"I don't have the means to render myself unconscious for that long," is the reluctant response. "Else I would use it." He would, whether or not Elidibus wanted to talk. It would not calm the storm but it would render it utterly ignorable, and that was as far as he was concerned, a perfect ideal. The risk remained, for all that it was for the moment dampened a bit even without the soothing rub of fingertips on scale; what might get said or done that would spike smoldering fury into blind wrath and lead him to lash out with terrible consequences?
The thought sat uncomfortably alongside the vague sense of security that bled through their bond. He could so easily betray that trust, without ever intending to.
But he'll still be there when Elidibus wakes. If he himself dozes off at any point it's not really easy to tell, but in the passage of hour upon hour in quiet and warmth, the Emissary remains for the most part undisturbed and unawoken.
Save perhaps a silent monitoring of temperature, and if the room grows too hot for what Lahabrea knows mortals tolerate easily, do something about that without actually untangling enough to get up ... and maybe the tinge of red to dreams that might otherwise not be there, like fires on the distant horizon.
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Date: 9 Feb 2021 23:45 (UTC)And a rain of fire in the sky.
As the Emissary drifts off to sleep, some hope might be found. The emotionless nature remains strong, but there is a sense that some of it is of conscious making. Some of it refusal to fall prey to emotions, this is true. But also a fight not to fall into the void and simply become nothing. Not just for the sake of everyone else, but also his own.
Is it any surprise a sense of heat and distant fire would give rise to memories of the Final Days in his dreams? Though perhaps the fleeting glimpse of watching a twisted mix of Aefenglom and a distant twist of Amaurotine towers. The rain of fire a distant scene. Elidibus turns to say something to... is that a dragon?
But the dream shifts before anything is head. Still, it might have been somewhat familiar.
Elidibus at peace with himself, surrendering to the aether fed to him, reshaping his existence into a vessel... a heart.
But deep within the amethyst void, awareness. Prayers cried out. Voices of thousands unceasing. Risen not in pleasant debate but fearful argument. They called and he answered.
It's out of order, but also the fragmented memory of the Convocation Speaker and another member, speaking to him about his dedication to duty. Still barely recognized, though Lahabrea's mask now replaces a featureless red and in that dream, Elidibus seems on the cusp of almost knowing who they were.
Yet they withdraw and vanish as he reaches out to them yet again.
Precious little of this is dreams, though undoubtedly Elidibus would call it such if asked. These instead are nightmares.
In the passage of the first several hours of the night, his host body does stir, does sweat. His mind drifts between the state of dreaming and deeper slumber, but never at rest. And not just because there is too much heat.
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Date: 11 Feb 2021 00:13 (UTC)No.
He couldn't allow it. He could't let the beast drag them both down.
But over the passage of time, Lahabrea too grows tired. In spite of his firm alliance with Zodiark he was ever a creature of diurnal habits, and staying awake all night every night was beyond him. The dragon weighs on it, for it too prefers the daylight to the night, and only once he's certain Elidibus isn't about to sweat him into soddenness with feathery absorption does he allow his awareness to fade. In time it means moving again, a slow and unwaking shift until he has the rather smaller Ascian thoroughly wrapped in arms and tail; where there cold to be had, it wouldn't reach there, in a shroud of crimson and gold.
And in dreams, a spark of fire of a different hue weaves across the burning distant horizon. It's there, again and again.
A flash of feathers and streaming fiery tail as meteors crawl inevitably groundward, bright and shining and as far away as those meteors themselves. The glass and steel of mixed Amaurotine and Aefenglom construction reflect no meteorfall, but that distant burning spot does.
It's easy to miss. There's so much else going on.
But it's there. It's always there, when it shouldn't be, a faraway gleam within a shroud of darkness, one more voice rising in the chorus of fear and horror and confusion. A forgotten melody, high and wild and full of an elation so intense it is pain; it doesn't belong here.
It belongs here. It's always been there. Hadn't it?
Hadn't it?
There's a sound, as Elidibus reaches towards futile disappearing forms. If a hearthfire had a song, if flame could soothe, gentle what it touches, if the merry crackle of a bonfire on a cool autumn night had music of its own, then it would be that sound. It doesn't drown out the darkness, it never could. But what it can do is seed the dark with a million pinpoints of burning light shaken off its wings in showers of sparks.
"The song too heals, like its magic. If it is allowed to. It cannot live in an unwilling heart."
In the distance, a spark dances - flaming wings and burning tail and an eye as bright as the dawn, not ... quite the shape of a dragon. A bird, only a bird, though at most one of its kind ever in existence at any given moment, and its claws shape the distant stars into recognizable formations, one by one.
no subject
Date: 13 Feb 2021 00:47 (UTC)At the dreams begin to cross into a realm which by any right could be deemed 'nightmare', there are... stars.
They do not fall in a rain of flame and terror. The sparks instead are lifted on wings (not a dragon, but feathers, heat... song) and shaped into stars. Countless symbols of hope. Then those stars are themselves shaped, the beginning of tales long forgott--
To say Elidibus is a little surprised when he awakens may be an understatement. There is intense confusion and some discomfort as the Ascian becomes aware that it is not wrapped in a blanket in an over-warm room. This is another living individual. Complete with a heartbeat, the steady rise and fall from breathing, and the tactile sensation of feathers and scale against hyur flesh.
Much more than he remembers baring last night. It appears in the interests of comfort, but his own and the dragon's concern for sweat-soaked feathers, Elidibus has been divested of pants. Only smallclothes remain. He takes a while to reflect on his condition and what he.... 'feels' about it. Oh, the near-nudity is not what bothers the Emissary. It's certainly not about 'sexual' intimacy that could be construed from the circumstances. Such matters just do not register.
Elidibus wonders if this would have been how he awakened on a night where the full moon hadn't been affecting Lahabrea's behaviors. Or more to the point, will this be what he needs to expect in the future? The Ascian gazes at the top of the steel cage. Tonight may have been a risk, but it was not without results.
And ah yes. Dragging himself- somewhat reluctantly- back to the thought of how he feels. A dim memory of song tugs at his mind. Something from his dreams? It's too new and the content, both good and bad, somewhat ephemeral as it is. The Ascian isn't too fond of dreaming, yet. It's like an even more confusing array of fragmented memories into which errors accrue. It's just as well they mostly fade when he wakes up.
Then there's this virtually unfettered tangle of bodies to weigh. Elidibus can't say he feels like a victim of circumstance. Here and there he obviously tried to make himself more comfortable. Legs tried to escape and get a bit cooler air, only to end up wrapped around (or wrapped back up) by tail and... Lahabrea's legs.
There are a few places where the Ascian can probably work his way free. An arm, for instance. Part of his leg. Another leg.. tug... hmm. It seems other bits are going to be difficult without tugging and threatening to disturb Lahabrea and Elidibus is not sure what frame of mind his Bonded is going to wake in. So finally, he offers in a bland voice.
"Lahabrea. Are you awake?"
If the dragon is awake, he might notice the small trace of tears upon the Emissary's face before they are completely dry. Elidibus does not seem aware. Perhaps he thought it nothing more than a trace of sweat brought on by the room and his sleeping partner.
In truth, he's completely oblivious to it.
no subject
Date: 14 Feb 2021 01:42 (UTC)The other very much is not; sleep is not something Lahabrea welcomes, it interrupts endless work that needed to be done, and being comfortable enough with his surroundings to bother was rarer yet, but there was something strangely comforting about having someone else there. Maybe he'd been taking the wrong track these past millennia, and should have sought company earlier. A strange and unexpected balm, comfort where none was really expected ... surely the result of a bond and not some neglected need for company he's been ignoring all this time.
Were they any others but themselves, stripping Elidibus of most of what remained of his clothing would certainly have been a lead-in to things guaranteed to cause even more sweat and heat - but neither are inclined, and such a thing was practicality only.
Besides, he kept it hot enough in this house where clothing was for decency alone, not necessity.
As soon as Elidibus so much as twitches, there's a brief change in warm breath before it steadies again, but now the dragon's awake. He's not moving, but he's absolutely awake, and as the Emissary tugs and pulls a little bit in a vague attempt to free himself, Lahabrea is quietly utterly uncooperative.
It's thoroughly inappropriate, he supposes, but isn't that what other bonds do? Inconvenience each other in a constant parade of small petty and mostly harmless ways?
"Mm." He's awake. Mostly, anyway, that undercurrent of endless wrath hasn't stirred itself back up yet, though it surely inevitably would. Another day.. or two ... and that might become easier to contend with, to bury, but for now ... there's being a mild inconvenience in keeping Elidibus a little tangled up.
There is the scent of tears alongside the smell of sweat. What dreams had plagued, to cause such a thing? He didn't remember. "You stink." It's quiet, barely more than a murmur.
No he doesn't. And who's fault would it be if he did, anyway? Elidibus isn't the living furnace here.
no subject
Date: 14 Feb 2021 22:19 (UTC)Not at first. They're tangled up pretty tightly, after all and it stands to reason that being careful about extrication does mean some resistance. Still, puzzling out limbs shouldn't be taking this long and it seems every time the Ascian makes progress, there's another metaphorical knot to work loose.
So he relaxes and calls out to see if Lahabrea is 'awake'. Letting sleeping dragons lie (about being asleep) need not continue. The moment a vaguely affirmative 'mm' is offered, blue eyes are turned upward to find Lahabrea's face.
There is also a faint sniff of the air. Well, a hyur's nose isn't going to be too fine about it, but there's the smell of sweat that's undoubtedly not the dragon, among whatever dragon smells come from feathers, scales, and heat. And without much judgment, Elidibus answers, "Indeed. I will be glad to master magicks which will minimize the work it takes to keep it clean." It'll be too late by then. He'll be addicted to the concept of a hot bath or shower. "Of course you realize I could have attended to the matter some minutes ago, had you not seen fit to complicate matters?"
Without much judgment. And despite something that's almost like dry humor and an answer about the condition of his body that was too pragmatic, Elidibus doesn't seem too put out.
"...May I inquire as to the location of my trousers?"
no subject
Date: 16 Feb 2021 23:39 (UTC)It is well known that Lahabrea doesn't in fact possess a sense of humor that he'll admit to, nor that he actually enjoys anything but the suffering of others, so clearly none of that can be happening. There is nothing of gentleness in the Abyssal Celebrant, so anything like it must be an illusion, some deceit for some unknown purpose.
But he continues to quietly make a nuisance of himself, the dimmest, barest flickers of amusement crossing their bond. It's too easy to do with the size difference between them and having an entire extra limb up on Elidibus. In this strange liminal moment, it might be easy to forget there had been bloodthirsty fury, or hunger or the edges of moon-madness. Certainly it can't last, it wouldn't last, and very likely no-one else would be allowed such an indignity as Lahabrea idly working on keeping them entangled with the subtlest of little motions.
It's a good thing he doesn't have his wings yet, else he'd use those too. "Of course, of course." He still hasn't raised his voice. There were bathing opportunities to be had upstairs! And hot running water to go with it, because it's about the only sort he can even tolerate, and then it's the smell of wet feathers for HOURS but Elidibus wo't have that problem.
"....Mmm.. over there somewhere." There's a nebulous gesture with one hand, and with it the barest openings of escape. Honestly he hadn't paid much attention, they were in the way and causing more sweat and it wasn't necessary besides. How utterly scandalous this would be in another situation.. "Do you remember your dreams? I smell salt." Tears.
no subject
Date: 18 Feb 2021 22:21 (UTC)But Lahabrea would know there isn't much frustration rising in Elidibus. Lots of patience and reasoned debate, but suffering isn't there. Would that not mean this might, however unlikely, mean that between enjoyment of suffering and actual amusement, the emotion fleetingly felt with the Bond is, in fact, the hallmarks of a sense of humor?
An opening or a trap? Elidibus will seek to use the opportunity to sit up. There is some success, perhaps. After all, he's only testing a bit but not actually seeking to surge out of Lahabrea's hold.
"Why are you asking about... ah, yes. The Bond." Elidibus would have begun to ponder whether he remembers any of the images which might have crossed over the Bond from Lahabrea. It didn't occur to him at first that Lahabrea meant his own dreams.
But then, the word 'salt' really strikes home. A reference that Elidibus does not take long to puzzle, by the way he raises a hand to brush a few fingers near his eyes. The tears are dry but there's still a trace to feel and... marvel over? It's absolutely certain now that he'd not been aware. "What is this?"
Elidibus knows what tears are. This is not what he's asking, almost to himself as though he momentarily forgot Lahabrea's presence. Forgot to mimic his own tones and thus asked the rhetoric with Ardbert's natural voice. His jaw snaps shut moments later which suggests he realizes the brief loss of control. When he speaks again, Elidibus has collected himself.
"Fragments. They were... nonsensical as ever," he murmurs absently and almost indifferent. But however reluctant the answer is given, it is indeed an answer that doesn't quite dismiss the matter.
Zodiark was a dragon. Flames on the horizon were... hope? And mix this with the usual, waking nightmare of fruitlessly chasing what little recollection of Amaurot he still has. Prayers reaching out, gripping and molding him until he could no longer recognize himself--
"I can't remember anything which would cause this." For a second there is an acrid sting of bitterness across the Bond. And then defenses are rising. "These 'tears' are more like to be yet another physical response of this host I can no longer control."
It's a fancy way of saying he must have dust in his eyes. Elidibus isn't fooling anyone in the room with it. But he will try to end the conversation by continuing to wend his way out of the nest of dragon and bean bag. There's plenty of excuses to do so. Find trousers. Get out of the cage. Take a bath. Wash away any proof that tears were ever-present. He's about to set his feet down on the floor of the cage.
Bare feet. And he seems to have forgotten about the shards of obsidian scattered around.
no subject
Date: 19 Feb 2021 19:39 (UTC)What's this?
"Something must have been distressing, recalled or not." He knows not what though, and can't begin to guess. Though he knows he dreams every time he sleeps, those dreams inevitably fade to nothingness by the time he wakes, leaving him with no images in their passing.
Dreams weren't supposed to be sensible. "It's rare for anyone to remember their dreams, past the very moment of waking, which is why I asked now and not later. They fade for all, like fog beneath the sun. In another few bells, if there's anything left at all to recall, it would be unusual." Reassurance, of a sort, to that surge of bitterness. This ... this isn't Elidibus' broken relation to the world and everything in it including himself, it's merely how things were.
They weren't meant to last. That was the point of dreams. A brief exercise in imagination and emotion as a mind struggles with its daily life. A biological necessity. But not a lingering one.
Escaping, for the moment, isn't difficult, though there is a sudden movement from the dragon as Elidibus attempts to stand to quite abruptly grab Elidibus and heft him right off the floor, setting him instead to one quarter-turn to the side in a little flash of irritation. He remembers the shards, and that work he'd been up to, surely Elidibus could damn well remember it too, it wasn't centuries ago.. "Watch your step."
no subject
Date: 21 Feb 2021 00:29 (UTC)Getting somewhat free allows Elidibus to understand how hot Lahabrea's body temperature really is. While he knows the room has not cooled down and there would certainly be no need to worry about his state of undress causing a chill, it still feels refreshing. Drafts drying the sweat might be a part of that, but there's definitely a distinct difference between dragon and room's ambient climate.
Only a small part of his mind is dedicated to musing this matter. There are tears to wonder about. An assessment on the nature of dreams to listen to. While Elidibus very much wants to be vehemently dismissive of considering dreams as to be anything relevant, it's too much ingrained in his nature to not listen as insight is given. Especially when it is a peer.
Had Elidibus ever slept during his long vigil? It would be unlikely. And even if he had, any memory of 'dreaming' would be long discarded. There is little doubt the experience is entirely novel from his perspective. And thus, Lahabrea's knowledge is able to break through the burgeoning walls within the Emissary. He nods in acceptance of the explanation and shows signs of relaxing. Biology. The biology of a host he's imprisoned in is a concept Elidibus can cope with. It's not... him.
"I am not overly fond of the experience," the Ascian slowly answers. He ponders over Lahabrea's earlier question and its connection to the tears. Or the Bond. Perhaps both? "Though if there is some merit to do so, I will endeavor to write down what fragments I do remember, on awakening." Being brought to tear? Stray memories he no longer consciously remembers? Probably not what Elidibus meant. If the dreams were his own or Lahabrea's? More relevant. The Emissary's tone makes it sound like he's making a great concession in offering to record his dreams.
It's not like he forgot the obsidian shards were there. Truly. So lost in the moment of a great many thoughts, he had allowed himself to start wending free on autopilot and... well, fortunately, Lahabrea was not nearly so caught up in his own thoughts. Elidibus very nearly doesn't notice how he's picked up and shifted to a safe spot on the cage floor. Nearly.
He does frown a bit in puzzlement as he notices his feet seem to completely miss the floor. This nagging little downturn of lips continues until he's shifted and set down again. Elidibus slowly spins in place to look at Lahabrea. The speaker looks irritated. Then to the floor where he has been set and the shard-strewn floor where he'd been about to step. Oh.
"My apologies." For inconveniencing Lahabrea. It's like a thank you. Looking around some more, he spies his trousers. His top is easily found as he'd personally set that aside. "I will return shortly. Unless you wish to continue speaking. Then you are welcome to join me."
He really does understand that wouldn't be something you say to mortals without sounding like he's insinuating something else. Here, he doesn't have to worry about such tedious misunderstandings. And he probably doesn't literally mean 'in the bath', so much as 'in conversational range'.
He abruptly frowns and, looking down, gives the trousers a quick shake. From one of the legs rolls a somewhat indignant Cherry Bomb. There is a resigned sigh. It's probably just as well he's managed to pick up some basics in mending spells.
no subject
Date: 21 Feb 2021 23:31 (UTC)Interesting, but not vital.
Now that sleep is definitely past and the comfortable haze with it fading, the undercurrent of ill temper is rising again, as it inevitably must. The dragon had its own interests and wants for the morning, and he's ignoring all of them. He focuses instead on making sure Elidibus doesn't slice his feet open, watching with narrowed eyes as the bomb is shaken loose from a trouser leg.
So that's where it went. By now, Lahabrea's fairly certain it only makes a nuisance of itself because it gets away with it, the dragon-changed Ascian would have pingponged the little creature right into the wall after the first time, well aware such a thing wouldn't actually harm it. Elidibus was ... far gentler than he would have been.
"I am not inclined to leave my confinement, even if you feel it worthless," he responds eventually. "Not while the moons retain their sway. Even a few moments of delayed struggle betwixed me and my target might be enough for an escape." And not bloody, horrifying demise!
Plus it saves the temptation of wanting to bathe, when water was fairly uncomfortable. There had to be alternatives.
no subject
Date: 28 Feb 2021 22:26 (UTC)That Bomb. A large part of Elidibus' lack of schooling the creature's behavior is indifference. Pants can be mended, especially now he's learned basic spells. A hole or two in his pants because the beast acts on its nature. The proper emotions just aren't there to drive him to discipline the Cherry Bomb. Even when the creature had managed to make it into the chest, it had made Elidibus note to be more aware when closing the lid; another thing to check on a list of routine.
The Bomb is given a light nudge with a foot to shift it away from the safe path across the cage floor. And it seems the Ascian is more aware of the possibility of obsidian shards underfoot, for he picks a safe path to the door. There is a moment's pause as Elidibus considers the reason Lahabrea intends to stay in the cage. It doesn't quite... align with his observations of when they were first waking. But one five or ten minutes of 'peace' gives no context. Anyway, the Ascian has no intention of remarking on the difference right now, even if he had a better understanding to go by. "Very well." The door is unlocked, opened, and sealed again.
"I did not say the bars were worthless." Those bars are very important. For Lahabrea, it has been, until last night perhaps, a way to keep the beast in one place when he lost his sense of self on the full moons. To Elidibus, they seem a physical representation of what his fellow Unsundered is fighting against. To dismiss them at this point would be detrimental to his goal of aiding Lahabrea.
And yes. If he's on the far side of the bars should a feral attack occur, he would indeed have a few seconds to react.
It seems he'll leave matters at that, at least for as long as it takes to mend his pants and wash up. Though before he leaves, he'll ask, "Shall I bring the dustpan before I go?" He will if so. Otherwise, he'll just bring one back. Because he does plan on returning.
no subject
Date: 6 Mar 2021 18:59 (UTC)"Ah, but you did." He coils around himself as best as he's able to, though he lacks the flexibility some have with their reptilian tails. "Though you may know it not." Important to him ... before Elidibus had gone out of his way to point out that they would hold neither against a dragon's strength nor contain a small shapeshifted form. Useless - and puncturing an illusion he'd been hesitant to weigh for too long simply in the hopes that if he ignored it, the dragon wouldn't think to test it. But he no longer could, and he was aware of how steel fared against a beast of his ilk, which meant the dragon would be too.
Lahabrea doesn't explain this, he turns his thoughts mostly towards unraveling what he might do to otherwise secure some semblance of safety for others now that this was no longer suitable. It would delay only, and then not for long .. and then woe betide anyone he came across in such a state. "... No. I will be returning to such work soon enough."
A focus. Something to do. "..Mayhap it would be advisable you tend to other needs once you are clean than sitting around down here."
no subject
Date: 12 Mar 2021 05:43 (UTC)But the.... dragon? Lahabrea? Had shown no sign of interest in leaving the cage that night. The Emissary wonders if he should bring the matter up now, to see to his ablutions and return with the conversation on his lips. Or leave for errands and bring up the matter that night when he returns. For his fellow Ascian had a point that he did not need to stay around all day. A balance of attendance and keeping an ordinary, such as it got here, routine. It had merit.
"There are a few matters I can see to," Elidibus agrees. "Mayhap when I return this evening, you would tell me how your day progressed. If the effects of having a Bonded sleep in your care it is notated for reference, it can be compared to the successive days and previous iterations of the full moon's sway you have experienced."
The Ascian nods. No dustpan or broom. He'll wait long enough to hear Lahabrea's response on the suggestion that they continue this 'experiment' this evening before he departs. As for his errands? Well, he'll certainly be willing to stop by long enough to make sure Lahabrea doesn't want him to pick up something while he's out.
He would later wonder why he had made it and not simply expected Lahabrea to tell him before he'd left the room earlier.