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

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.]

So this area was your doing.

[ It did have those little Sinclair hallmarks... cozy places and books, the board game offerings. Michel leans back and takes a contented sip of his wine, actually beginning to relax a little.

Possibly he should have done this from the beginning. Worked up the nerve to visit Miharu without having to hypnotize himself with a chess game first, gone looking for Sinclair. They don't have all the time in the world for him to pick himself back up after each failure. ]

...It should. It would have been a little better if I warmed it first, for that.

[ Then again, as worn out as all of them are... it shouldn't be difficult for sleep to find any of them. And wine unfortunately can't guarantee that it's dreamless. ]

Um. Maybe...

[He glances sheepishly at the nest he had built himself earlier and just hugs Ki the gruntie plushie to himself as he accepts the cup, sipping at it slowly. He knows how to pace himself with this at least]

You've been having trouble sleeping?

[Wine should help at least]

[Who hasn't been having trouble sleeping? is what she wants to ask, thinking at least in this she can be confident that many people aren't handling the stress of survival well. The realization that she could be wrong, that saying anything might reveal her failure to persevere in some way, she stays quiet.

The wine isn't her favorite - the way it manages to be both sweet and incredibly bitter creates a flashing mix of flavor that doesn't sit well with her, when strong tastes aren't always to her liking to start. Drinking it blossoms an almost immediate heat in her chest, disconcerting but somewhat comforting at the same time.]

This place is nice, but it's not the easiest to get comfortable here. When you have a lot on your mind, it can be difficult to sleep through it. [No comment on the nature of things on anyone's mind.]

[ Who hasn't been having trouble sleeping?, Michel wonders, with a little furrow of his brow. His mouth twists a little wryly at the thought.

He hadn't actually tried drinking to help before this. He doesn't dislike wine, but it's not particularly a hobby of his, either. It's just soothingly familiar... without hitting the overfamiliar resonance that reminds him all over again of how isolating and strange this place is. ]

Really... it's difficult to get comfortable anywhere here. Except, perhaps, for the supplies storage. [ He likes his little makeshift cot. ] There's so much bustle everywhere else.

[ He thought about constructing a house. But even there, he'd be too easy to find. Perhaps it would have to be a private guild, just for sleeping...

It wouldn't help at all with the nightmares. But it would be good to have another place to retreat to. ]

[Sinclair thinks his strategy of 'work himself to the ground' has been working these days but looking at these two...he wont mention it. They're injured and he doesn't want to encourage them to do anything that hurts]

...Moon Tree is fairly quiet, strangely enough. Maybe because it's so big...?

[Hm. Even with Uta's jukebox being set there, he rarely ran into anyone else, because they all had other guilds as their primary residences. The wine warms him within as he sips at it slowly, even as he's reminded that he doesn't particularly enjoy the taste of alcohol at all.]

[Now that she, too, has used the supplies storage as refuge, at her most worthless-feeling in the wake of the battle with Skeith, she has to agree with Michel. There are some things Miharu can't bear to but on people like Emil and Haru, but maybe they'll still knew well enough, giving her somewhere to go like that.]

Is it? That explains how you were able to sneak out so easily before. [Hehe. She's keeping her dunks light, but this is definitely given with a bit of an elbowing edge. Emil's been working too hard to really take care of himself for a while.]

I think it would be hard for me to stay there. Almost everything we've lost left a void that we can't see behind, but it's Zelkova's guild, right? So... [The feeling of absence isn't something hidden behind ignorance when it's right in front of your face.]

Sneaking out...?

[ Michel raises his eyebrows a little, a gesture rendered more dignified by the plastic cup of wine. ...Or perhaps not. He considers summoning his glasses from his inventory for the occasion, but that would most definitely be more ridiculous. ]

...That's true. I joined, but I haven't visited until lately. To hear the songs.

[ Which might make it feel more empty rather than less, come to think of it. He never had the chance to know Uta well. But it's a constant reminder of another loss, and now Hien's as well. ]

[ssshhh]

T-That was only once. Before we had the infirmary. [Sinclair pouts into his cup of wine, still nursing it slowly.

The jukebox had been a request to help others; Hien had cared enough to provide that comfort, even if he denied it until the very end. Sinclair had followed his own selfish whims in the end though - everyone could access the jukebox in Moon Tree. But it was Oria he wanted to provide the most support to in the end]

...yeah, I understand. It can be a bit strange, sometimes watching the guild carry on as if it wasn't missing anything, but...things keep seeming emptier these days.

[Things might feel even emptier than normal, even, given that most of them are either staying in or spending more of their time in the infirmary. The world and its inhabitants are bleeding out now, running out of energy and out of time. If this goes on much longer, it's hard to tell what'll they'll have left to give.]

It's cruel, actually. [Miharu drinks a little more wine. The taste doesn't get better, but it gets more familiar and therefore easier to bear. She can see why this forms a reassuring habit for some.] I have things that I wouldn't if this hadn't happened. [Even just considering that her life begins and ends within Fragment, that holds true. She can only imagine it's the same taking into account whatever life she had before.] But they just exist in this bleak place. Should I feel grateful that I do?

[ Michel almost smiles for that, humorless understanding. The human players hadn't been wrong in their arguments against Gorre: he extracted the data he desired from any situation, reading things in the worst possible light.

But that didn't imply there was no truth in it, either. It is cruel. Every facet of their situation is. He swirls the cup of wine — not an adult's refined, pretentious gesture to waft the aroma, but a childish fidgeting as he looks at the light refracting through the liquid. ]

...Since my memories returned, I find myself thinking the same. There isn't a single person in the world outside that I could speak to before this. Or... perhaps I should say, I would never have been willing to. [ Either way is most likely an embarrassing admission, but he doesn't seem to make any note of that. ] But this place, itself, is hell.

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insinning - 2023-12-03 07:51 (UTC) - Expand

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

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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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