altimit | [Closed] misteaks' mistakes

[Misteaks doesn't take them far from the gate, trying to find the best place in the shade to lower both himself and Mithrun down, keeping the Edge Punisher rested against him and as much off the ground as possible. Mithrun looks bad, and both of their health bars are well into the red. But Misteaks is the only one who's alert, taking out a health potion and uncorking it with his teeth. When Mithrun doesn't respond to rousing, Barrett takes the potion himself, if only so he has a little more energy to get Mithrun where he needs to go. He wasn't about to drown Mithrun in an HP potion of all things.

His eyes scan the milling crowd, lighting up only when he sees the harvest cleric through the shapes. His spear is pulled from his inventory and waved over his head, the bright white of the blade the most noticeable thing he can think of on his person.]

Nanashi! Over here!

[Spotted! He races over at the sight of the spear, not even pausing to talk because the injuries are clear enough once he's in range.

He targets Mithrun the moment he's able to, casting:]

Pha Repth!

[Have a full heal, buddy.]

( Mithrun's mostly dozing; too stubborn to let himself pass out, but his body fatigued by the constant pain the state of his shoulder's in - the extent of the injury unclear through his clothes, but his shoulder starting midway through the clavicle sits a few uncanny degrees below the rest of it. The bloom of bruising around his neck is apparent, however.

His HP starts ticking up - slower than you might expect, like it's the deeper physical injury offering some resistance. It's the bruising that fades first. Slow but steady as Nanashi's magic works into him, the reds its slow warp into purple dissipates, leaving behind only Mithrun's pale, lightly-scarred skin. His HP ticks up.

The shoulder is slower work. The first sign of the magic flowing through the damaged bones Mithrun's eyes going narrow, his lips pursing; bone and flesh knitting together - a strange feeling, uncomfortable, but not awful. There's the soft sound of cracking shoulder shifts back into place, bit by bit - it takes time given the delicacy of the healing, but, as sign of his progress, his HP ticks up - by great amounts. It looks like this was the greatest source of injury.

The rest heals quicker - minor nicks and cuts and bruises from battle. When it's all done, he exhales sharp - looking more alert, the fatigue faded with the radiating pain. )

... You... leveled up a lot.

( Guy who was at level five at the meeting really put some elbow grease into leveling.

As he says that, he reaches and grabs at Barrett's forearm, like he's trying to keep him from running off - which, it's inevitable. But he isn't any less frustrated about it. )

[He breathes out a sigh of relief, helping Mithrun to properly sit up and only stopping when that hand grabs against his arm. It's an awkward moment, but he still rests his hand over the touch, acknowledging the request even if he can't follow it. He's still trembling.

It's a brief moment between two that Barrett breaks by opening his inventory, digging for an SP potion to hold out to Nanashi.] Top up. You're... you're really valuable around here right now.

Thank you for getting here so fast.

[It's honestly pretty tense watching how slowly the magic works - he can't just heal people when they look dangerously low in battle. He'll need to make sure they stay as high as possible so they aren't even in the vicinity.

He gives a soft sigh of relief when it finally, fully takes, nodding a little at Mithrun's comment and watching the grab curiously.]

...Just wanted to make sure I was ready in case something like this happened.

[The bare minimum, in his mind. He pauses slightly at his apparent value, but still reaches out to take the potion with a light laugh.]

Good thing I decided to try out a different class than usual... I'm not used to having this much utility!

[Chugging the potion, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand once he's done, and then focus on Misteaks this time:]

Pha Repth!

( He feels the trembling and lets his eyes linger closed for a moment, before he releases his grip and looks to Nanashi, gaze the same as ever. )

... You seem to be the only Harvest Cleric around right now. Hien can't be relied on, and maybe Hector's just busy, but... And I don't know who our others are, or where they went. I recall we did used to have others; unless...

( They've died? )

... We might be in trouble if you go, too.

[He takes in a deep inhale at the healing magic that erupts around him in return, the light thought to Mithrun's back tensing just slightly. Though the HP gain is still slow, at least it's for a much different reason - the Lord Partizan has a much larger HP pool.

It doesn't change his shaken demeanor once the spell fades and he's left a little less ragged around the edges. But he does pull out another SP potion.]

Take it. [It will he hard to ignore this, even if Nanashi wants to - their dungeon has left them with a blessing, one that Barrett hasn't bothered to figure out yet.]

Mn... Hector hasn't been replying. That's really unusual for him. [His brow furrows with an exhausted concern, eyes trailing the street for a long moment. It's not right. Something isn't right. Are the clerics disappearing on purpose?

It doesn't seem like a smart idea to mention something like that in front of Nanashi, though. So he bites it back, that touch against Mithrun's back holding, even as Misteaks opens up his player menu.]

You must have been working hard. Don't run yourself too thin or anything, okay? We need to take care of each other

[He takes the potion without thinking, only stopping when he mentions Hector.]

-Eh? No one else is responding?

[He chalked up the lack of Harvest Clerics to simply not meeting many of the players yet.

The situation was that dire?]

Well... I did a bunch of level grinding to meet the cap, but I only made it the day before it got raised again. I don't really want to stop, but I'll try to slow down a little.

Don't slow your pace. ( Given its imperative phrasing, this might? ring as an unintentional order, but who really knows. ) I need to reach the new level cap, too. I can run a dungeon with you now.

( Slowing down isn't in Mithrun's vocabulary, unless by force majeure. So he can't exactly support Nanashi taking it easy - especially considering: )

The potions I drank couldn't heal the serious injuries I just had. ( The broken shoulder et al. ) But serious injuries seem inevitable in this environment - these are monsters, and we can't predict the nature of the coming glitches.

( The strange Areas; whatever plans other parties have for them... )

If our healers go, or aren't leveled enough to keep up with the damage output, then we'll all hit zero, one by one. We don't have the luxury of taking it slow.

[...

That grip on his back tightens - a silent protest at the sudden jump back into another dungeon after he was just injured so heavily. But despite his visual displeasure, the Lord Partizan stays quiet in Mithrun's direction.]

...He doesn't have the luxury of burning himself out, either. [A quiet correction, though he gets where Mithrun's coming from, and he doesn't feel he's in a position to argue. The reality is brutal even if how Mithrun puts it is a little cruel.]

...You'll find a balance, Nanashi. Just remember to eat and sleep, and... take safe players with you.

[He wants to go with. He wants to stay by Mithrun's side. But bile rises in his throat, and his touch leaves the Edge Punisher.]

Morgan?

If that happens again... please. Just run.

[A shaking exhale as he pushes to his feet.]

...I'm sorry.

[They are nowhere near the radius of entering the gate. But Mr_Misteaks abruptly vanishes into thin air.]

Okay, let's do it!

[He responds, again, without thinking.]

[And then Beel gives his advice and just... disappears.]

-Huh? He left?

( Mithrun knew Barrett wouldn't like the idea of him jumping back into a dungeon so quick, and while Mithrun would have suggested joining Nanashi to level regardless, he was, in some way, motivated by frustration when he made his remark; though, he isn't sure if he wanted to goad Barrett into joining them out of worry, or if he wanted Barrett to know he was leaving them to their fate.

He would have found some response to Barrett's plea, an unhappy frown crossing his lips when Barrett makes it, but then— he's gone. And not in any normal way. His startled expression is pain; and then, a tense displeasure. )

You can't leave that way. The only way to teleport out is by Chaos Gate.

( He shoots off a message to Barrett. He's never seen Barrett do that before, and he can't be sure he didn't glitch out of existence, even if his status still says he's online. Mithrun's own status said he was offline and he still rose from the dead, so who even knows anymore! )

If he doesn't answer and he's fine, I'll kill him myself.

Edited 2023-10-07 09:27 (UTC)

So it was a glitch? But it was perfectly timed, too...

It's worse if he's had some way to do that and he's kept it secret from me.

( He seems a little sore about this. )

Because you two are close?

( He has to think about this for reasons that aren't totally clear - even to him. )

I guess. I've trusted him, but he won't tell me everything. Half the people in this game are keeping secrets, and our fragmented knowledge base is exactly why we never know what's going to happen to us.

( He winds his shoulder to test it, exceptionally belated given the healing happened several comments ago, when he talks of trust.

Honestly, his issue with secrets is that he doesn't know them - he's not arguing against the idea of secrets on any ethical principle, or even on the basis of any greater good. )

... He's difficult, too. He doesn't think he deserves any better, he takes all his mistakes personally, he puts himself in danger for other people, and he's bad at asking for help. He's the last person who should be made to keep secrets. It's going to kill him.

Edited 2023-10-07 09:42 (UTC)

[He slips out onto the training grounds within ten minutes of his last text. It's late for those on their side of the world, and the near silence of the rest of the area is almost deafening.

But wherever there's sounds of combat, Barrett instantly turns his attention, carefully circling the grounds with tired steps. Morgan was around here somewhere. And even if Morgan is in no mood to talk after today, Barrett still knows he has to find him.]

( Mithrun's been here for awhile, and he doesn't realize the time nor how long he's been here. The sound of his blade against the dummies is his telltale efficient brutality; quick motions and a heavy blade.

He's expecting Barrett, so he notices him when he comes, but he still finishes his combo before he turns to him, as if carried by momentum. Rapid arcs and his blade gleaming in the light; the dummy's HP hits 1 before Mithrun lowers his blade, standing straight, and the dummy's HP jumps back to full.

He turns to wherever Barrett might be standing, and studies him for a time. His expression is hard to read, but it looks like he's maybe deciding what he should think. )

... Are you staying?

( Or leaving again, after this? )

But he's so nice...

[Pot, kettle, etc.]

I'll try to look out for him too! ...Probably won't be any help talking, though.

[He drops to a seat in silence near the edge of the grounds as Mithrun works through the combos. How long has he been at this, he wonders... who did he imagine, when that blade cut enemies to ribbons?

All of Barrett's armor has been unequipped, the skin of his palms and knuckles reddened where they cross over his knees. As Mithrun coasts to a stop, staring down at Barrett with a look that he can't even begin to understand, the redhead doesn't make a move to stand. Aware, complacent, submissive to the fact that he's done quite a lot of wrong in the last few hours.]

...I want to. [Quiet, but firm.] I can go, if you want to be alone. But... I feel like it was wrong of me. Leaving you.

...

How long have you been here?

( It's always difficult when Mithrun has to be the one to bridge the gap. His natural instinct is to leave matters be to decay, the way his instinct is to let himself drown. Even as his lips purse into a thin line seeing Barrett's red knuckles, he would drown, if let be.

But, like drowning, he can learn the mechanics of living, bit by bit, are by step, even if it doesn't feel natural to him, yet. )

... I don't know.

( An honest answer. So, probably too long.

He sheaths his weapon at his back where it dissipates, hidden, and he strides to Barrett. He stands before him, over him, and sees how small he seems to be - despite how great he normally feels when he stands beside him.

He sets a hand out on either side of Barrett, and he takes his face with his hands. Despite the sharp grip he'd employed with his claymore, this hold is careful, like he thinks Barrett might slip from his hands.

Maybe he shouldn't have let Barrett go off on his own. Maybe that passive instinct was wrong. But could he have even stopped him? Was there even anything he could do for him? )

... You didn't have to go. I didn't take it back.

( When he'd meant that Barrett should stay. )

...

[His eyes drift closed at the touch. Tender and raw in a way that makes him flinch.]

I know. You asked me to stay.

I...

[His mouth feels dry. Maybe he shouldn't bother. This feels like an excuse... but when there's so much he can't say to Morgan, the need for honesty and connection and some sort of comfort digs at the inside of his chest.]

...I was so scared.

Seeing you like that. Feeling the way I felt. I... was scared for you. And at myself.

I still feel that way. Like maybe I'm not going to be... safe, if I want to keep up...

Edited 2023-10-08 02:43 (UTC)

( His fingers curl in light against Barrett's skin, like he's trying for a better hold. Like he's trying for - comfort? Is that it? Or maybe it's that, the chest split open and the viscera clear, he's trying to understand how to keep it all together.

And he could walk away. He's done it before. And unlike others, Barrett won't cling. But he isn't sure he wants to set down this weight, yet. )

... I can find you and I can get you back if someone takes you away. I can't do anything if you go away from me.

( The touch slips, palms against neck; palms against collarbone; and then, palms slipping back, near where wings meet skin. )

I can decide whether you're safe for me or not. And I know where I stand. If you can't help but be scared... can't you at least be scared with me?

( He kneels on the ledge, and he looks at him, whether or not Barrett has his eyes open or not.

... )

Will you let me closer?

( To hold him, in clumsier terms - to ask if Barrett will let him in, in quieter words. )

[Closed] misteaks' mistakes - the sequel (catchall)

9/29

Re: 9/29

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

no subject

1/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

very very early 9/30

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject