altimit | [ closed ] Winter in September (October, November...) (dungeons + catchall)

[ A broken shoulder and a few fractured bones is enough of a good excuse to stay put in the infirmary, not that Michel needs one. He's inclined to move as little as possible, painkillers or no. Although — it might be the most badly he's ever been injured, but not by such a terribly wide margin. The physical discomfort isn't much of a deterrent.

As much as he would, personally, have preferred to remain unaware of the world around him, he's been dragged forcefully back to full consciousness again. He does not have the knack of dissociating on command. Forced to find much more mundane ways to deal with the stretches of boredom, he's now claimed a corner of the cozy little nook of the infirmary and is passing the time playing chess match after chess match against himself, nursing a cup filled with... juice? It's fine. Surely he wouldn't do anything contraindicted by doctors.

He wants to go check in on the others who should still be sleeping off their injuries in other rooms. But he wants to not disturb them... He moves a chess piece the way a child would pick a petal off a flower to make the decision. If he wins, he'll go look. If he loses, another match. ]

[By the time she'd actually brought herself to the infirmary, the bruising on her side had been practically black. The adrenaline and chill had all faded Miharu's been advised to not laugh, cough, or cry as much as possible, and at least one of those seems like an achievable request. Any additional time here is just to recuperate what she can.

Though she won't admit even to herself that she feels this way, it's a relief to see Michel up. When he'd attacked her, she hadn't been in her right mind, either, but in the wake of the battle, his distress seems starker in retrospect.

Miharu plops down wordlessly in a nearby cozy chair and watches him ponder his next turn. If he's always playing against himself, won't be always both win and lose? And while this might make for a rather boring introductory move on her part, she continues to sit there in silence, though clearly paying attention to him.

It's what she might have wanted someone to do for her, after all.]

[ He'd once quipped that this was like meditation for him, but honestly... it may not be too far from the truth. He hears someone settle down across from him — but until he sets the next piece on the board, he feels no obligation to look up.

As soon as he does, his expression folds in instantaneous, transparent worry. Gone is the blank void of reaction he'd shown immediately following the fight. The quick, searching gaze he flicks over her as he assesses her for injury is only a few shades away from panic.

Unfortunately... he's played Fragment entirely too much. He knows what class Vak Makima was a move for. He knows there were only two Edge Punishers present at that fight. And he knows, when his vision went dark, where Mithrun had been. So even blindness couldn't shield him from the understanding of his sins for very long. ]

Miharu... how are you feeling?

[ It's a trite, hopelessly small thing to say. But he does have to ask. ]

[Wouldn't he rather sit in silence a little longer? It's always as if talking opens up more opportunities for later regret; speak with someone, and it's easier to notice their absence later. Though Miharu considers keeping her own silence, recalcitrant and withdrawn, maybe she really has changed over the time she can remember. She answers him soon enough after all.]

It only hurts when I breathe. [Though it's tongue-in-cheek, she won't downplay it: This is painful, pale in comparison to the experience of being data drained and yet more draining because it's so persistent and slow to recover.] I should be asking you.

I actually wanna ask you a favor instead, Michel.

[ It's the risk either way, isn't it? Sitting in silence allows more time for his own thoughts. And the longer he dwells on things, the deeper into the mire he sinks; not just until he can't see the light any longer, but until he's so far down that he no longer can recall the memory of what light looks like.

He'd come here to run from his problems. But here, he's truly trapped. So perhaps with his back up against a wall, he can finally stop running and confront them outright. He gives a tiny exhalation at her quip. Not quite a laugh, but for a moment his forehead is furrowed slightly less. ]

I'm... [ not fine, and he needs a better default to skip over so he doesn't have this awkward pause every time, ] ...Not going to be lifting anything with this arm for a moment. But provided that's not the favor you wanted to ask...?

[ His gaze is intent and, beneath the awkward stoicism, quietly hopeful. Something he can help with? It would be immensely gratifying if that were true. ]

[He seems so earnest in the moment that she feels a little guilty that what she's about to ask probably won't be the kind of job he's hopeful to perform. Maybe there's something else they can agree to later, when they aren't quite so bound to the whims of the infirmary nurse. Miharu rubs at one wrist with the opposite thumb. She hasn't forgotten their last conversation. She'd determined then that only if he hurt someone she cared about again would she have a problem with him, though she hadn't exactly accounted for starting to care about him in turn.]

I'd like to ask you to keep what happened from others. [Not everyone who was at the battle with Skeith was blinded at the time, and she wouldn't have had the presence of mind to know if they were all struck with hysteria or not... but they aren't the people Miharu is accounting for in her calculations. In fact, it's likely most them haven't even crossed her mind, making this a wholly selfish secret she's asking him to maintain.] We were both injured in the fight against Skeith. That's enough information, isn't it?

[ His expression turns thoughtful, and he tilts his head as if listening for the meaning between the words. It's much the same abstracted look he'd worn when he was considering the chess board. ]

...It's entirely possible that others may have seen. If you're trying to protect me from anyone's judgment, that's not necessary. [ Is that what it was? Framed as a favor, so he would readily agree? ] But most of all — if you want me to conceal something, the only hope I have is knowing who I'm keeping it from, and what I should hold back.

[ He isn't a particularly good liar, as she can probably very well infer by now. Any additional information he has to prepare a plan would be... more than helpful. But if that's really what she wants, he does owe her at least that.

His gaze flicks towards her wrist, tracking the little gesture. The memory and the implicit discomfort in the body language. But he doesn't pry. If he can ease some of her worries, then he hopes to. Even if it isn't the sort of favor he was expecting. ]

[Ah... that does make it cross her mind, now. She's sure Noé must have seen what happened, as possibly Calx as well. In that case...]

I'm sure they had plenty keeping their attention. [Maybe another bluff, or at least downplaying the situation until she can think about how to deal with it. Still, it's a tiny crack in her composure already, something she'd compiled to bring into this chat with complete composure, when really she is tired and borderline desperate.]

Haru and Emil were gone... I assume pulled into that horrible void. And Yuui has been staying in the infirmary all this time. Simply put, I'd like to avoid inflicting them with any more stress or pain. [~~we are still working on forming healthy attachments to these people in particular~~] I won't be the cause of any more of their worry.

[Her fingers clench, her mouth tightening into a line. Michel might also be protected from his guilt - though she knows well enough that a lack of public knowledge will do little to prevent his feelings - but this really is a request selfish to herself as well.]

[ Haru, Emil, Yuui. Specific people to lie to, and a specific purpose. Michel's gaze turns focused, and he gives a little nod.

He would have granted her a favor regardless, if it was within his power. But all the moreso something like this. He can't disagree with what she's trying to achieve. ]

It's beyond my power to keep them from worrying about you being in the infirmary. But you have my word that I won't tell them more than that. ...If you need, you could use the blindness as an excuse as well. I don't think any of them are the type to press... unless they saw a need to.

[ For however much that would help. He glances towards her hands again, the signs of tension and desperation; he understands the sentiment, if not the precise cause in this case. All of them are struggling so desperately right now to appear more whole than they are. ]

Sinclair is talented at spotting lies and evasions. I'll avoid the topic, if I can.

We may have a challenge ahead of us.

[All this thinking about Michel's guilt, but she's the one who feels it right now, baiting him into lying for her - along with her - even if it is for what she's determined a worthwhile cause. Further distractions will just make them more likely to make mistakes, after all; she's seen it play out time and time again every time they've stood against a Phase]

Thanks for indulging me. [She's still quite tired. Miharu lists to the uninjured side, letting that half of her take the brunt of her weight so she can nestle almost comfortably into the hug of a cozy corner chair.] After that, I'm not sure I have the right to ask you how you're doing with those things you don't want to share.

As long as you aren't underestimating the difficulty.

[ Although Sinclair, at least, must have his hands full right now. He knows he was closer to Hien, and he remembers... Michel wasn't in the most lucid state at the end of the final battle. But he knows Sinclair was gathering up the other injured, gently shuffling people off to the infirmary. He might still be preoccupied with the aftermath even now. He needs to return Orion to him soon. ]

...As co-conspirators, you have more right than most.

[ And he doesn't feel as guarded with her as most others, when they share an implicit understanding of what topics not to touch. Considering his general level of tact... he can't say he's had that before. As answer, he lifts the cup of "juice" in one hand. ]

I'm upright again. And I'm attempting other forms of distraction. I don't know whether either of those is better, or worse.

[Sinclair had been fairly injured by Skeith, but not to the extent of the others; so rather than take up valuable space in the infirmary, he made regularly visits to heal up, but went home after an hour or two. It's on one of these visits, he comes armed with books and pillows, trying to keep himself busy. He had time to mourn, and he had mourned as much as he could allow himself. It still hurt when his mind drifted off in that direction, but when he hears his name, he softens his steps, and peeks around the curtains barricading the cozy corner off from the rest of the infirmary. Very, very mildly...]

Um...what are you two plotting? Should I leave...?

[It smells like alcohol here...]

Edited 2023-11-26 01:59 (UTC)

[How does he manage to do this? There was always the chance that Sinclair would show up at a public space, but for such a short conversation she had thought they would luck out with the privacy.

Miharu feels like a bucket of ice cold water's been dumped on her, but perhaps miraculously, the pain radiating from her ribcage forestalls a surprised jump. Michel's tilted the glass of not-juice in her direction, so she ends up drawing the same conclusion. That's certainly a coping mechanism against doctors' orders, and she feels a weird little recoil instinct flex within her. She can't remember why: There's nothing attached to it in the end, and it remains a fleeting moment of apprehension.]

Well, Emil, you've caught us red-handed. [She chuckles. Ouch.] You know how strict the head nurse can be, but I just don't have it in my to tattle on Michel.

[ This is absolutely Michel's luck in action. He'd just inadvisably started to take a sip from the cup when Sinclair's voice catches him by surprise; he coughs, nearly choking, and sets it down again quickly.

Why? Maybe he would have anticipated this, actually, if he ever was around others often enough for them to catch him talking about them. Or if he ever had much reason to talk about people like this. Luckily the coughing buys him a little more time to rally a response. ]

I-I really— [ his complaint is briefly interrupted by more plaintive coughing, ] don't think a single glass deserves a scolding...

[ From either the nurse or from Emil. Although admittedly now that all of it seems to be in his lungs, the volume feels like quite a bit more. ]

Ah. I guess it's a good thing I'm not the nurse?

[Sinclair tries very hard not to smile, but given his inability to hold a poker face for very long, it's pretty obvious. He glances between the two of them and puts the books on the shelves before adding more pillows to the piles on the ground. He gives Michel gentle pats on the back]

[Holy shit, dude, get it together. She isn't the one choking on wine, so Miharu's high horse is quite comfortable - were it not for her injuries. She giggles again, this one drawing a flinch out of her.]

We couldn't very well make you an accomplice in good conscience. I know how you worry.

[What she's saying is, for the most part, true, even if Michel's wine consumption wasn't initially part of the bargain they made.]

As long as her watches out for himself, I don't think there should be a problem.

[ Please. Michel's never had it together, and he certainly isn't going to start in these circumstances. But he finishes his spluttering eventually, with a tiny frown towards Miharu for her wince. ]

No, no problem at all. Provided you don't draw the nurse's attention to me. I thought this would be less conspicuous than the alternative...

[ Since Sinclair's patting seems to have resolved Michel's impending demise, he gives the cushions beside him a little pat of invitation. This might bring a halt to certain topics, but... it's much, much less suspicious than Michel trying to wave him off. ]

Are you going to join us?

Is this so I can't tattle on either of you?

[Sinclair's gaze darts between the two of them, feeling like he's intruding on something private...but he does sit down at Michel's prompting]

I'll keep your secret. I'm surprised you didn't put up a keep out sign though.

We'd at least have bribed you if that were the case. [Or offer him some kind of sob story...though she's certain neither she nor Michel are particularly keen on that sort of manipulative tactic.

Miharu rests her hands in her lap, one over the other.]

That's all right. It's fine that you joined us. [As the one who was here first, it would have been up to Michel to throw the sign down if he really didn't want to chance any visitors.]

If I put up the sign, that would only bring the nurses down faster...

[ He thinks. Although now that Sinclair has suggested it, he might be looking just a little wistful.

But he gives a little nod of affirmation to Miharu's words. It's fine! They're not discussing anything suspicious here. And he's relieved to see Sinclair looking... so much like himself. ]

But if a bribe is necessary, I do have more bottles.

[ He doubts that would work on anyone except Hani and Justy, and likely not them. But it's what he's got in his inventory to work with, unfortunately. ]

...she's a little scary. I wouldn't do that.

[Sinclair glances between the two of them, and faintly recalls the snippet of a conversation he once had with Oriade--"my parents sometimes let me have one glass of wine with them at dinner"-- and thinks...

It wouldn't hurt. He's tired]

...a glass wouldn't hurt. But why are you both hiding here?

[He'll just redistribute the pillows]

I came here to try and get comfortable. [Not to mention that lying in bed feeling sorry for herself could only sustain her so far - and not very far at all when it just left her alone with her thoughts.

She looks over to Michel, feeling another short twist of hesitation. It's like there's something she doesn't want to do, something she doesn't want to become, but she doesn't know what sits at the end of that path.] I feel like I would have refused you in the past. [There's a half-buried memory of what is now a literal lifetime ago - the very beginning of things, when she had been quick to turn down a drink in favor of coffee.] But I don't know why that is. It shouldn't be a problem, right? I could at least learn why there's such a fuss about it.

This is the more public area. It's practically the opposite of hiding.

[ He's not buried in his favorite corner of the storage room, for instance!

Michel tilts his head slightly at Miharu as he pulls more wine from his inventory, along with whatever little plastic cups presumably come as standard hospital issue. With a brief furtive glance around for the nurse, and counting on the two of them to keep watch for him, he carefully pours. ]

It could be cultural differences... Well, you may not like the taste regardless. Don't force yourself.

[ Although he thinks he has very little to worry about in that regard with Miharu in particular. He doubts she would drink it just to be obliging, which is very much to her credit. ]

I'm glad people found this area useful.

[Sinclair says as he accepts the plastic cup of "juice".]

I was actually napping here earlier and left to make more pillows and blankets for the area.

[ Hence Miharu and Michel got to take over without being startled by Sinclair sleeping under all the pillows in the World]

[Hm, that would probably explain some of the configuration of the place Miharu saw when she came in. She can't begrudge Sinclair trying to carve out a moment of comfort, especially after he's worked so hard.]

Are you sure they weren't more pillows for you to use for your nest? [She could also be buried in the storage room under the pretense of more work, subtly hoping that someone might reach out to her instead of simply trying to overcome it herself.]

This will certainly get you closer to sleeping again. [She takes the little water cooler cup from Michel and holds it between both hands, waiting patiently. She definitely isn't at any risk of forcing herself.]

[ closed ] Winter in September (October, November...) (dungeons + catchall)

~11/22? Post-Skeith, infirmary (miharu + sinclair)

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marimo has the chance to walk into this thread and do the funniest thing ever

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ok but sinclair launching himself out of the pillow fort when they were talking about him tho

LMSKLFJS sinclair just teleporting outie THANKS BRO

honestly the temptation was real but i was being good (?)

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