RP:'Trust' is a Dangerous Word
Part of the Planting Seeds in a Memory Arc
Synopsis: Kyori is zonked at the Kelay Tavern which worries Nancy over the course of three days. Who does Nancy call? Anyone on stand-by at the local Kelay Healer. With coincidental luck, Penelope finds Kyori. Things are a rollercoaster mess between the two, for secrets begin to explain themselves that cause the disappearance of the spellblade. The two truly do not know how to act towards each other. The trust does not come easily--especially for Penelope.
Kelay Tavern
The blonde haired spellblade stood in front of the Tavern in Kelay. Sword on his back, hands jammed in his pockets, thumbing an empty pack of cigarettes. Sunken sapphire eyes stare vacantly at the sign, the trees spreading their flowering branches to greet spring with a ticker tape parade of petals. Spring.
Nancy’s look when he paid for a room was indecipherable. He didn’t have the energy to try. Kyori took the key, listlessly hauling himself upstairs to shave without a word. Autopilot took over when the door closed. Sword strap. Boots. Wrinkled shirt. Razor. Room temperature water. A nick of blood. Silence. The whole world was silent and when he let it, silent sleep stole him for three days time.
Nancy watched the husk of a warrior disappear up the staircase. Her forehead creased, a curious concern. On the third morning, when Kyori failed to descend the staircase, the barmaid paid three copper to a local boy to deliver a message to Yerrel’s hut calling for aid.
(1/3) The freckled one spent most of her morning with the horses outside the hut. Time had been slower paced throughout the days, and for once, there was a gentle ease that settled within her. An ease of internal healing. Time to breathe. Except for the Kelvarian witch--Lanara--for her best friend had been knocking on death’s door. Penelope knew a guy to get some proper medication to hold on to hope a while longer in case Lanara could fight the disease she held.
(2/3) There was not much the healer could do, so patience had become a virtue, as it always had with the battle of life and death. Bristles from a brush graze against the side of a cream-colored horse--Dee. Amber rays wash the Ardelian before… something else does. A boy creeps up behind Penelope which startles Delilah which makes Penelope stumble in her ‘whoas’ and fall backwards into a water trough. “You’re ki--” but the boy interrupts her, for aid calls, and the drenched clothes are almost forgotten. Dee managed to become calm enough to hitch a ride on--boy in tow, of course.
(3/3) The tavern comes into clear views, and briskly Nel makes her way through the old establishment. Directions come from Nancy, and by the looks of Nancy, there had been an almost familiar look in her gaze. A familiar look of concern. Feet make their way up the stairs before she knocks on the door that Nancy had Penelope find. If there was no answer, guess who is barging in? It’s her, of course with a hefty kick. Because they both know Penelope does not mess around, nor does she care about personal boundaries when there is a potential crisis.
Nancy had mixed feelings about sending for a healer, especially Yerrel. The barmaid knew, both because she’s observant and because people have a habit of talking, that Penelope might come instead. And if Penelope came, how would Nancy know what to tell her?
Turns out, all Nancy could tell the freckled and frizzy haired healer with the juniper eyes, was the patron’s room number. The barmaid scrubs anxiously at a spot on the bar, praying Penelope will forgive her for not saying more. The boy sent to get help stays on Penelope’s heels in case she needed something fetched.
Kyori didn’t hear the knock. His sleep was heavy, his body needed adjusting to being back. Spring. The word repeated, pounding like a heartbeat in his ears. It corresponds nicely with Penelope’s breaking and entering. She finds him, face half shaved, asleep in bed. Rusty shirt, boots and sword piled on the floor beside him. A tilted, half full bowl of water has spilled over the pile in the floor. The cherry on top of the mess sandwich was the razor. It fell out of his hand when sleep stole him away. Not a coma, curse, witch’s spell or bodily injury to blame. Exhaustion, plain as all else. But three days without food or water was concerning yes? He’d think so if he was conscious enough to consider anything about the situation. Oh Kyori, idiot that he was, wasn’t prepared to face Penelope at all. Especially not like this.
(1/2) Breaking in takes a few tries considering the Ardelian’s petite stature. Honestly, Penelope was too frazzled to ask for a spare key, and maybe Nancy was too, but it was already too late. Surely, Penelope would be able to handyman-fix the door later on for the barmaid, since the druidic witch was good at those types of things. As the door swings open, earth-filled eyes scrutinize the room until they land on a familiar face. One that made Nel blink a time or two. The spellblade. He was… back? The man had been spirited away for a time which left the Ardelian thinking he had been--well, she did not know what to think--the aventurine had still been banded on a finger. The tap had brought nothing. Throughout the months with Kyori gone, however, other people went missing. Other lives were at stake, and the workaholic was left with choices to make. The girl runs a brief hand across her forehead as she looks around for any other signs of distress--blood, odd medication, glass. Nothing. Just a half-shaven, nicked face, and deepened sleep.
(2/2) Penelope inches towards the bedside, eyes sliding over ragged wears. Not surprising, for she always got on him about clothes in the past. Green eyes slide to the boy who just blinks at her, for the child was expecting her to not just stand like a doofus. “Uh, right.” Instantly, a finger lifts and begins to glow a faint orange color as she uses a source of heat to create a light on the tip of her finger. Another hand would reach out, and if Kyori had not awakened yet, that girl was going to reach to pry at one of his eyelids. The clinician was about to check if the blonde’s sapphire pupils were responding to the light, and if she got that far, she would say they were with the realization of no coma! Surely, the light would be disturbing to the bear-like slumber he was in.
Kyori’s sleep was a plane of shadow and inky tar. It sucked at his skin until he was pulled through a starless sky of quicksand. Why do they call it quick sand? It’s slow in swallowing him. Eyes open or closed in the void changed nothing. Then a light. Small and warm on his face. The spellblade was a moth that craved the flame. Burning to a crisp trumped the chilled descent into...he can’t remember what but he hates the alternative. The heat was close. He could touch it, almost, if he reached a little more…
Penelope’s light reacts predictably. The spellblade’s eye, pried open, responses to the light. Her face, freckled and familiar, is the flame. His sapphire eye stares. That didn’t make sense. He hadn’t gone to find her yet. He just wanted to sleep first. Instinct kicks the warrior in gear. Both eyes shoot wide with a start. “Penelope!” He screams, surprised, jerking back and thudding his head against the wood backboard. “Shit-” He hisses. His tanned hands cup the back of his head. His head pounds with pain and adrenaline. His blonde hair was longer, a time appropriate amount longer. His skin stretches at awkward angles across his bare chest, telling of malnutrition. An array of curses follow, god save the poor boy witnessing the chaos. Try to calm down, Kyori, try before you scare them. He opens his eyes again. Penelope is still there. Real. It’s real. “Penelope…” He tries but his lungs won’t listen. “I’m sorry. This isn’t -” The spellblade wheezes. If she’s not real, she would have vanished by now right? Kyori you idiot, compose yourself. “I’m trying-” he barks at himself, groaning a sigh at the ceiling. “Not a coma.” Good start. “Just tired.” A beat. “Sorry, I was...sleeping...and you…” She was there. That’s all she’d done to deserve his hysterics. She was there...wearing the ring...Shit.
(1/2) Penelope watches that pupil constrict until she can feel the jolt from the swordsman’s body, and a pulse hits her nerves for her to back up to let him react. He had been sleeping, and as he yells in his confusion, she stands abruptly. She stands there with damp hair that had been twisted by a clip on the journey to the tavern. Her brown, cotton pants were also slowly drying, as well as the burnt orange tank-top she wears. Strands frame her freckled face. She is the same as before. Same tattoos. Same scars. Steady. Just like her posture, but her face appears etched with concern, and as Kyori is in that cursed, panicked state, Penelope is behind the little boy--placing hands over his ears with an even gaze. The boy in the room is wide-eyed just like Kyori, and Penelope reaches to graze the boy’s shoulder with fingertips after Kyori realizes that he is around a familiar face. “Get water from Nancy. I suggest a pitcher, and..” green eyes lift to stare at the man’s bare chest. She takes a longer pause to observe, as she normally does, “I say this man right here wants the heartiest breakfast on the menu.” Even if it would be hard for Kyori to eat in such a malnourished state. Her voice was lowered and silken, and eventually the boy, while stumbling backwards, vanished from the room.
(2/2) Once the boy does go on, the girl is standing near Kyori. Penelope is taking in every feature of the man on the bed. His longer hair, his frame, his clothes. “Deja vu--kinda.” A tiny joke, like the usual Ardelian, but her voice is flat as she takes note. “I know you’re not in a coma, you weirdo.” Finally inflection from the thrown-off woman. A defense mechanism to lace her remarks with humor calling him a sarcastic ‘weirdo’. “Nancy sent word. Supposedly I was the only one on deck this morning--or the closest one by. You know, you tend to make that barmaid grow more grey hair day by day if you’re just sleeping. Seems to me like your body needs energy to burn, since you have none. So just save whatever words you’re chewing on for now, and stop wasting energy. Wait for the water, get a bite to eat, rest, repeat.” That was a demand, but with said clinical command, there was an annoyed itch that moves through her hand which makes her near the bed. The woman tugs on some sheets to pull on to make him feel more comfortable, since it was her nurturing, doctorly instincts. The usual workaholic. Her face was not hard, however, it was in a light, now, expressionless gaze at his presence, for she truly could not process his state, nor him, in general.
Kyori felt that ‘hero’ title he pinned on himself slip when the boy runs out, kicking up non-existent dust to get the hell out of there. Hand to his chest, the spellblade finally takes a full breath, letting the panic drown in even exhales. “Ahh….” He tries but she speaks first. Water and food? “I’ll eat later-” He had to tell her, like yesterday, what happened but those juniper eyes are watching him. Waking up to a face, even a familiar one, knocked him off balance. He’s gotta gain ground here. “Yeah, kinda.” He huffed a laugh. Deja Vu. “I like to think I was a lot more stoic or hilarious the last time.” Whoops, there they go, slipping with ease behind their masks of humor. “Look, I know you’re a healer and all but you look a little soggy.” He gestures limply to her wet clothes. “Overwatered maybe.” He’s got plant jokes. Nancy sent word. “Nosy woman…” The warrior complains with no real annoyance. Blonde hair nods at her instructions while he feels the sides of his face. Damn it. She gave him a reprieve, both of them. Okay, he’ll take it, thanks. That’s what he wants to do but then she’s straightening the sheets and that stone in her ring catches light and he can’t. His left hand, shaking with exhaustion, tries to overlap her hand and her ring. “Not talking,” he says, draping his other arm over his eyes, staring ceilngward. Not talking. Not making jokes to hide behind. Not dumping months worth of information. Not getting chewed out (righly) by her. There would be a time to talk about all of it. For now, he was grateful she was here, as a healer and a person he trusts. Before a charged silence brews he takes his hand back, letting her straighten the sheets to her heart’s content. He hoped his message of thanks was clear. Footsteps and clinking ice find the doorway. “Speak of the devil.” He says, cocking his head to see Nancy holding the ordered breakfast and water. Breakfast was an understatement by a mile.
Nancy’s patience amounts to an eyeroll and muttered promises of bodily harm. A thin veil of relief. “I heard her, don’t talk ya idiot.” Kicking his pile of trash (and sword, watch the sword) aside, the barmaid balanced the tray on the lone bedside table. “Swordsmen and their tough ego.” Nancy shakes her head at Penelope. “Stop making me call her, she’s got better things to do than patch up ungrateful boys.” The barmaid’s eyes say it all. Hmph, men. “Oh dear, do you need some fresh clothes?” She asks Penelope, gaze flicked to Kyori afterwards, delegating fault for the water on him.
“I didn’t-” Kyori tries.
“Shut up.” Nancy cuts him off.
“I was just ti-”
“Miss Halifax, if you wanna put him out of his misery we can say it was an accident then?” Nancy can’t hide her smile on that one.
(1/2) Penelope bites back the laugh at their sugar-coating humor. Sometimes humor was easier to digest for the girl. The ‘soggy’ comment earns him, per usual, an eye roll. She pulls on those sheets until a hand rests on her own, and the healer is very still for a moment as that hand is over her own, and as he covers his eyes. After a beat, the healer snags her hand away--typical response, but it seems he is already moving it to let her continue her stewing of tugging sheets. Once he is of comfort, she takes a couple feet back to let Nancy take the lead. With Nancy’s response to Kyori, a wry smile pressed on her pale lips, for the two ladies knew each other rather well. Afterall, Penelope was a Kelay-Sage resident. “I really should have sent Mr. Erickson. He really would have just hammered on his joints for reflexes. Lots of bruises,” she lights up in a wicked little witty grin at the barmaid. Her head then rolls at the mention of her clothes. The healer smelled of lavender and watered-down dirt.
(2/2) “I’m fine. I probably won't be here too long, and I don’t live far from the tavern. And fortunately, I brought Dee,” her horse. “The one who knocked me into a trough,” the healer’s arms crossed, and there is a twitch in her lips as Nancy tells the man to shut it. The mention of putting the spellblade out of his ‘misery’ causes Penelope to snort. “You’re morbid,” she jokingly says, “but no,” and what was a smile then fades to that expressionless gaze again. “I think he should get his bearings. And I think my clothes will be fine. I think muddy water is better than what I have experienced at my time in the clinics. Plus, aren’t mud masks a thing?” Not that type of mud, Penelope, but nice try. She shakes her head briefly. “I think that maybe we should let the guy eat. Drink fluids. And I can stick around until I know he’s steady enough. I guess while I’m here, can I get some of Mesthak’s scrambled eggs and possibly a smidge of seasonal cobbler? Coffee--two cubes of sugar, and a drizzle of honey.” The woman was picky, it seemed, but to Nancy, it looked like the healer’s usual request. Or one of them. The healer’s stare then peers at the swordsman before she is reaching for a glass to pour the pitcher of water into for the spellblade. Once she does this, she backpedals towards a wall on the opposite part of the room and lingers. Afterall, she had to see if he could even digest anything, especially with the state he had been in.
Nancy bounces back to her usual self, ignoring Kyori for Penelope’s joke and order. Maybe mud masks were a thing but the barmaid won’t stand to point that out. How, you know, it goes on your face usually. By default, clothes reduce the effectiveness by half.
“A few bruises don’t sound bad.” The blonde whispered. “I could take that dude in a fight.” No one is asking hot shot. Kyori’s aim is to distract. The smell of food makes his stomach turn. A choice between the two would be easy. Bruises, obviously. Ice clinks and Nancy leaves them alone again. His shaky arm takes the glass, hearing but not watching her backpedal away. Fair. His stomach objects before, during and after the first sip. He can follow the path of the cold water down through his chest. He expects a puff of breath to appear on the exhale. “Mmm.” His apathetic tone is encouraging.
The healer gave him an out. Still grateful, thanks, but now there’s a space of silence to fill and she came here because of him. He feels duty bound to fill it but it has to be an easy topic. Even asking how she’d been felt too risky. “Been working out, can you tell?” Too much talking. He tries another sip of water. “A horse?” Swing for the fences Kyori. “You have a horse?” Was it his imagination that she looked apprehensive? Really why wouldn’t she? Dumb question. “Horses are cool.” Yep. Going well. The very definition of easy and smooth.
(1/2) Penelope’s lips twitch at Kyori’s ‘hot shot’ commentary. Was it going to be a smile? Disapproval? She leaves him in his silence instead with the mystery of what was going on in her head. Truly, she did not know. Perhaps she would glaze this run-in, too. Afterall, that was where she felt most comfortable. Seeing that Kyori can drink water on his own, there is an ease, even if the tone was not enthusiastic. When the silence dawns between them, however, the girl is really wishing she was in Nancy’s shoes and out of the room.
(2/2) The sarcasm shoots at her, and a smirk is offered to him. “Pfft, I say too much cardio,” she bounces off of him before a hand moves to tuck a strand from her face. Instead of focusing her vision on him, she decides it is best to keep her gaze away from him. She reaches to dig into her satchel she always carried. “I’ve had a horse. For a long time. I just keep it in the stables at Yerrel’s. Situations like this,” she shrugs nonchalantly as she sinks into his ridiculous banter. It was truly easier for her to talk lightly with the man on the bed right now too. Act like nothing is wrong. That the man was just a patient. “Cool…?” A smile is plastering across her freckled face at the adjective, but she keeps her eyes away from him still. “I think you should just maybe shove that ‘intelligent’ mouth of yours with a fork.” A smirk catches her, and luckily, Nancy comes back into the room to ease the tension again with a tray with Penelope’s breakfast. “Once I see him eat something, I’ll do a quick check of his heart and a small physical exam, and then if he’s clear, well, he’ll be on a strict schedule.” Which, yes, she was referring to that Nancy would be in charge of the spellblade.
Penelope won’t look at him so he’s pretty sure he’s batting a thousand with this one. Horses are cool Kyori? Really? And how did he tell her that he didn’t -want- this food? Since there’s no script for - ‘Sorry I kissed you then vanished and was vanished for months but showed back up without saying anything and you found out because Nancy’s a worrywart that doesn’t mind her own business’ - he’ll just choke down the damn food.
Look at eating as punishment, he tells himself, gathering gravy on the overdone toast and praying for death. Death, rudely, declines to comment on the situation as a whole. “Like a normal horse or like a supernatural water horse?” No big deal if she had a water horse. What was a water horse? What would it look like? He chews through the logistics trying to keep all arms and legs inside the ride at all times. Concentrate every iota on not throwing up. Don’t do it. Don’t even think about doing it. He holds his breath, daring his body to betray him but it does not.
He was too fatigued to read her body language or heart beat. He barely heard himself chew. She’s looking at her food and he’s remembering Lanara’s very pointed question about his leaving. Leave it to Lana to hit him where it hurts. Is now the time to ask who this Lionel guy was? Bad move, don’t do it. Later. Much later. What else was safe? Uuuhhhh… Horse stuff still? “I had a horse once.” He coughed while the potatoes fought to stay in his throat. “Dex. All black, of course, brooding teen that I was.” Far from the truth, he just got the last pick since he was the only boy. “Not a water horse, just a regular one.” A beat. “How’s the food?” God save me before I make myself a damn fool.
(1/2) The healer finishes digging in her satchel, finally. She pulls out a journal which is set next to the food she orders. She takes a few glimpses at Kyori’s reaction to the food he chews. The slowness of it all. Knowing Penelope, she has an appetite, and luckily for Kyori, she is secretly stress eating the cobbler rather than the nutritious bit of her plate. She shoves the blueberry cobbler in her face to avoid talking in front of him--for the minute or two--the horse questions come again at her, and this time she ignores him. Penelope ignoring someone? Well, silent treatment was new. She could not ignore him forever, or could she? At this point, Kyori was digging a hole while Penelope had a big ball of food in her cheek, so she did not have to talk.
(2/2) Penelope stands eventually and pries for a stethoscope in the satchel. She picks up her plate, and after moments of insufferable silence, she answers the question to the food part. “Better than yours,” and she sets her plate on his lap instead. What is left is eggs. Only the whites. Nancy knew what Penelope wanted, and clearly the girl was pointing out that Kyori needs to try eating the lighter food. “I think protein is better than starch,” she points to the potatoes on his plate. "My fault for not thinking." Eyes glazed over Kyori’s fingernails for medical concern, and then the stethoscope was being lifted to attempt to rest the chest piece on Kyori’s chest. “Take a few deep breaths for me?” First her tone is of grace, and if he does do what she asks, her voice becomes straight-to-the-point. “I’m going to leave notes. Have Nancy mash fruits and veggies to make a puree for vitamins.” Like a smoothie. “Lean protein. You need a certain food amount to achieve a weight goal, and I assume this is not it.” Her tone was stern--with an edge, and the more she talked, the quicker her heart rate went up. Perhaps the edge she was on was an emotion of concern. For him and his health. And she was confused to see his face right now, for she really did not know how to process it. Especially for a man that knew… quite too much about her. “Sleep, and not the eternal type. And I think I’ll refer you to Mr. Ruari Erickson to check in on you since you’re Mr. Tough Guy.” Was that sarcasm? “Any questions before I go?” Because this girl was in internal panic mode right about now.
Kyori digests the rebellion of food and company with strained grace. He doesn’t try to force the conversation anymore - he’ll inhale and exhale at her advice and let her go. Who was he to ask her to stay? A dude she kissed once. Kissed her, actually. Whatever, he lies to himself, what did it matter? It was one kiss. Life goes on and life went on when he wasn’t here. The mask he wore wasn’t working right. Cracking a joke was impossible; impossible as hell freezing over.
Sleep, lean protein, veggie shakes. Sure. Feeding schedule? What is he, a bad dog? His patience is straining. He isn’t entitled to any help she’s giving him. Not because he was him, though. She’d come for anyone. So why did she come? That’s the wrong question. Why did she - stay-? Because she was Penelope and Penelope wasn’t going to tuck tail and go. Prideful woman. Her instructions evaporate before he hears them.
Wait he heard that part. She’s sending her apprentice to check on him? That’s it. His temper and self pity buck this idea. Reprieve or not...
Penelope asks if he has any questions for her. He does, matter of fact, but he isn’t asking it. Don’t you want to know where I was Penelope? That was his honest question, the one he kept to himself. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew how to take care of himself. She knew that too. This physician bull was another barrier. Do you think I’m just emaciated for fun? His internal voice is edged. Mad at himself, mad at everyone and no one. He fails to consider the facts that -he- left. He doesn’t get to say that. The blonde leans forward to straighten up. Look less pathetic. He didn’t want her pity, did she pity him? Why did Nancy do this? He would have been fine. Now he’s gotta sort out he’s leaving and this unfortunate preamble. Making a joke couldn’t backpedal them and undo this.
“Don’t send that guy?” He groaned. “Nancy‘ll make sure I behave.” A beat. “Do you have any questions before you go?”
Pathetic. He’s pathetic. The transaction can end, he isn’t gonna hold her hostage. “Go dry off, thanks for coming.” Sapphire eyes turn away from the door to let her go.
(1/2) Penelope kept her face tight, but underlying… she had been dying to know where he had gone. Why was she being so stubborn -now-? With him in -this- state? Penelope -what- are you doing? It’s Kyori. Of all people. The guy who cracks dumb jokes with you, remember? Perhaps the girl had been bottling emotions for too long. Life went on when Kyori went away, but his absence did not make situations around her better. And perhaps the anger that she held was coming from not choosing him to search for during that time. Instead, she searched with the warrior’s guild for Lionel who had been missing for a month because there had been no word after their kiss. One kiss that had been mashed with raw emotions. Penelope came to the conclusion that the kiss between them became too messy and that was why he left without a word. Nel had been okay about it, but only wondered why Kyori had been hiding from her instead of communicating. Long story short, Penelope was kicking herself for not thinking something had happened to the man with her current internal, panicked battle.
(2/2) ‘Do you have any questions before you go?’ He reiterates her own as she begins to get up and leave. And at the door, she pauses. ‘Go dry off, thanks for coming’. His words echo, and she feels stuck at the door because for some reason, she cannot leave him like… this. Not like this, Nel. You know better. Take the first step. He needs it. Well, maybe. Maybe not. Maybe at least he needed to know she still cared for him--wherever they stood with each other. “I have a question.” Uh-oh, she turns. “Why didn’t you write me? Or come to me instead of this place? Why are you hiding from me? Do you really think I’m -that- shallow?” He was about to find out -why- she had been upset. Did he think the kiss was all that mattered to her? “You -do- realize we were friends, right? I would’ve helped you. And you know I’d never ask because I -know- you hate when I pry, so why don’t you just trust me already and tell me where the -hell- you were?” Okay, Penelope, that was six questions, girl. Yikes.
Kyori’d expected... not this. Surprise you dumb idiot, of course she wanted to know. To his surprise it wasn’t the kiss portion she was most upset about. He’s been thinking about this all wrong. The blonde lets her ask, or maybe demand, the answers he wanted to give her. Reprieve redacted. Where to start. “I couldn’t write you.” Okay now explain why. “ It wasn’t an option.” Not any better. He cracks his knuckles, the tension of honesty ripped through the air of the room. Lana hadn’t answered his question about Lionel and oh he’d asked. Let the record show. He started again, answering the easiest question first. “I came here instead of finding you first because I was like this. Not because I think you’re shallow, what, no. Because I have pride Penelope, I don’t want you to see me like this. And if I did, let’s pretend, show up at Halifax Roots, if you still even have the shop, like this you’d think ‘why didn’t he come sooner?’ and have other questions that I couldn’t answer the way you deserved an answer.”
Look, Kyori I don’t know how to tell you this but, you still aren’t answering the damn question. “You would have helped me. That’s why I didn’t go. I do trust you. The issue surrounding this entire catastrophe is that I don’t know if -you- trust -me-.” The ‘were’ in her question hits him like a shot. “We -are- friends. I care a lot about you -as a person-. Not just because we kissed or because you saved my life a time or two. You gotta know that.” Dude, clearly. His explanation was lacking. He was saving anything else but the part she was owed. “You can pry, I trust you, you earned that trust, pry all you damn like.” A beat. “Doesn’t mean I’ll always answer or give you an answer that makes sense but it works both ways.” Why the actual hell are you saying any of this junk? Answer the damn question.
“My sword.” Okay continue. “We used it to talk to your brother, remember?” The spellblade waits, registers any confirmation and continues. “I’ve used it for other things.” Like talking to that ghost about the flower they found but he wasn’t gonna say that. He also wasn’t going to talk about other ways it’s talents assist him in combat. “It isn’t a rent free endeavour. The magic has a price.” So close to making sense, you’re almost there. “Why didn’t I tell you at the time? Because I’m not a complete idiot, I know you wouldn’t have let me help you.” Get back on track. “Remember my back?” The knotted scar expertly hidden by a steering wheel tattoo. “The tattoo was an excuse. I lied, I never cared about being a pirate.” This is not making sense. “That’s unrelated. I want you to trust what I’m saying is true.” That’s why he confessed this petty crime.
“I go to sleep. That’s where I was. I was asleep. This -” He points at himself in this dilapidated state “-this is because I was asleep.” Put the pieces together Kyori. “I use the magic, it requires payment, I sleep. I don’t know how long I have until it happens or when or how long it’ll be. It’s always different. I couldn’t warn you in time.” The logistics are complicated. “It doesn’t kill me, it never takes enough to kill me. That’s the deal. It won’t ever kill me but it can steal time from me. So that’s why I...couldn’t write you and didn’t tell you, didn’t tell anyone I was ‘leaving’. The ring would’ve...” He looks at her hand, studying the band and stone. She’s still wearing the ring so she had to still be his friend right? To still give a damn.
(1/3) Penelope stands with a very clear, bewildered expression. Eyes stare at him from across the room, and this time, she really takes him in. Those doe-eyes wide from the exasperated questions she threw at him. Did she really want to know? Yes, she did, but she did not think her heart would become so out-of-whack asking him. ‘I couldn’t write you’ flows through the air and there was a small ache by those first words. He had been digging a hole here. That bewildered gaze retracts into a coating that appears to be a flat gaze. Then he begins to explain himself, and her lips sort of part as if she wants to interrupt him. No, Nel, you need to just shut up for a couple minutes. For once. Let the man talk. Pride. Kyori had pride, and that single word cannot wrap around her world of vocabulary. She had taken care of him once, so why could she not do it again? The door behind her creaks in the brokenness it held, and she takes a step backwards to press it closed with her back.
(2/3) When the spellblade calls her on her not trusting him, she looks off another direction to avoid the cut of words. Teeth grit as she looks out a nearby window. His explanation goes on, his defensiveness heard, but she stays still in that off-putting stance. Well, until he mentions the sword. “Yes,” confirmation about her brother. Her brother who had been alive and well with the twin now. ‘It isn’t a rent free endeavour’ and this causes her head to roll and stare at him. Finally, he catches her attention better and her face loosens. It loosens for the first time she had been back in his view. There is a cant of her head, and her eyes sort of squint at him in curiosity: the sword, the painted scar, his health. He admits his lie. Admits the power he held in the sword. The magic he held. The price he had to pay for it all. For her needs, and his personal ones. He sleeps, and luckily not eternally, for that had been a harder thought to swallow for the Ardelian. This is why she believes him, but she is still not fully at ease by the thought. “So it -is- killing you because it -does- take time away from you,” she tries to correct him. Probably not the best time to correct him, girl. Chill. “You shouldn’t have helped me. I could’ve figured out another way,” no, not true. She would have failed to find the little Ardelian boy’s health without talking to her brother. She never would have been warned about Linken and the curse he held. “A freaking sleeping zombie. You’re freaking joking.” She was -really- kicking herself. So much that her hands rub her eyes.
(3/3) “Halifax Roots. I haven’t been back in a long time. It sits. The marigolds should be blooming soon.” What? Penelope? Right now she wants to talk about flowers? Not really, but she was avoiding the reaction and the ring topic. “I planted them too late, so they should be starting to grow--it should take a few more weeks.” She reaches up to unclip her hair idly to repin it, and as she lifts her hand, that ring comes into her view. “I took care of you before, you know,” beat. “I’d do it again,” well, she kind of did it again. In a sense--not really. No, Kyori was fine--kinda? Frailer than before. Was he okay? “I never would find you weak.” Her face appears softer around the edges, but was she able to step near him? No, she was not sure if she could step forward. Her knees felt buckled, and her body felt a chill from the dampness of clothes. “Kyori D. the sleeping zombie.” There it was, the glazed banter again. “A little too typical if you ask me. Ghosts and then you sleep like the undead? You’re truly wanting me to write your novel, huh?” She has a very faint smirk. How could she have humor in such a raw conversation. The smirk fades very quickly as she narrows her brows. “But I’m still mad,” she makes this clear, and it was evident it was because he did not come to her directly. “And I’m still not sure.. well, “ what was she not sure about? There was a cautiousness that came from her as she stood in front of him. “The ring… I used it--once or twice. I had some stuff going on,” vague, and well, she would keep it that way, for her own dignity. Perhaps it was best that Kyori did not come in those post-traumatic moments. “Do you want to see it? Or keep it?” The freckled woman looks sheepishly, awkward right about now.
“You know what else takes time, Penelope?” He barks. “Trust. Trust takes time. If helping you helped build trust with your brother, with yourself, with me, isn’t it the same?” He pants from effort, leaning back against the headboard to listen.
Half way through he interrupts her before she calls him a zombie.
“It was my choice to help you. It was important to you. It was important to me too. To tell a story I haven’t told, a true story, about what my life has been since I left. It was not purely altruistic.” No perfect, selfless hero medal to pin here. Important that he proved it was real. The spellblade stares at the healer with strained impatience. He’d ripped himself open here, hoping to show her he wasn’t a cad, and her cry of ‘you’re freaking joking’ ripped clear through him. The name of her shop numbs the blow to his pride. Flowers. She’s talking about flowers. It softens her face in a way he didn’t realize he knew. “Yeah.” The blonde says absently, watching her fuss with her hair and catching sight of the ring again. Again the tension in his body relaxes. They are okay. They didn’t need to fight each other. He had to prove-what was it again?
His sapphire eyes dodge away from her face. Couldn’t see him as weak? Ridiculous. She’s being ridiculous. The joke she makes saves him. “Stop remembering my last initial, stalker.” He combs his fingers back through his hair, pressing it down and considering her assessment of his ‘story’. Oh, he hadn’t thought about the irony of the situation. Smart, that one. “Don’t you think, Miss Plant Witch, that those stories have to come from somewhere?” Kyori’s eyes stabilized back on the woman when he can let his defenses down. Whoops, too soon. She’s still mad.
She’d tried to use the ring. Naked shock stole across his face. She tried to use the ring and he didn’t come! He should have! It should have! She’s asking if he wants it back but he’s doing mental math to figure out why it didn’t work. That’s what the link was for, it was to the sword so it should have - “Where’s the gem that goes along with the ring? W-we never put it in my sword,” He leans precariously over the side of the bed to dig the scabbard and blade out. The recess is still visible, where her stone was to go. “You have to put it in, that’s why I gave them both to you.” Oh god, his heart almost exploded in panic. “It’s a choice you make, I can’t and shouldn’t do it for you.” He gave her both. That’s why it didn’t work. He gave her both. Don’t worry, he’s kicking himself plenty for not coming back to get it, but worse was the idea that his sword failed. “It’s part of the bargain. It kicks up, wakes me up, grants me furlough.” A hollow laugh escapes. Relief.
The sword was heavy. The warrior rests it across his lap before turning his chin back to the frizzy haired woman. “Keep it but it won’t work until we put the stone in.” He pauses. “I mean it’s still a nice ring, obviously it’s yours it’s the tapping won’t…” Half way through he’s distracted by the simple question of “What happened? Why did you try…?”
(1/5) Penelope frowns, but not in disapproval when he speaks of trust taking time. She takes that blow as he feeds it to her, but she does not respond. And when he cuts her off when calling him a ‘zombie’, she keeps an attentive gaze on him. He explains he was not trying to be selfless, and somehow that grabs her attention more than anything. Her gaze is a squint--not in a bad way--but one that truly seems to not understand his motive. Each person who had crossed her tried to be selfless, and well, she knew how that went. She is silent in his retorts, but that did not mean she was not listening. She always listened when she needed to, but the woman took pieces of information when she wanted it. So, yes Kyori D., she takes the ‘stalker’ comment with a grain of salt and offers a roll of her eyes. Penelope had been analytical. The mention of his stories coming from somewhere, she snorts. It is an instant reaction. Perhaps it was because he called her a ‘plant witch’, or maybe it was because her being a potential author had her in hysterics of disbelief. “I trust you’ll make your own autobiography.”
(2/5) Penelope Halifax watches as his expression crosses with disbelief of her trying to use the ring. She was not phased by that expression since she had been so reluctant at the moment when he gave the ring to her. A willing to take care of herself, but there had been a couple moments she wanted to, and although she used it once, she faintly remembers hoping she used it twice--like she said. Twice never happened like she thought she imagined. Only once had it happened. The memory had been unclear for a reason. A cant of her head is given when he explains that the ‘tap’ should have worked. ‘W-we never put it in my sword’ and her face remains stone. Would that finalize it all? To know that he was going to be ‘there’? Was he going to be? She does not move in this moment which was probably the reaction Kyori was not looking for. She stays put with the ring on her slender finger. ‘It’s a choice you make’--Nel peers down at the ring again as if she had been seeing the ring all-over-again. Eyes trace the crevices of the stone. Crevices she had memorized for several months.
(3/5) Green eyes watch as he places the sword over his lap, and she is giving him a disapproving look as if she was saying “stop lifting things in your health”. She was always not shy by telling people their bad health habits. Especially with him. How he used to smoke. She was blunt with that one. When he asks about her and why she tapped the ring, she shrugs. “I needed a laugh,” a laugh? Sure that was not what he wanted to hear, Nel. Well, she was not wrong. Post-traumatic stress caused the first tap. The second time, which she thought she tried, had been at the Demon Archipelago. Trapped in her mind for what felt like an entire month, but had only been a series of hours. The illusion had caused her to think in that span--to see if she could move to tap the ring with her other fingers. That had been a long story, however. The journey she had found Lionel with the rest of the group. The journey that made her realize she was trying to play out her life in script. Long story.
(4/5) Her finger twitches, and after what seems like long silence... “I’ll connect the stone,” she looks up from the ring. “If I can wake you up from -this-,” she looks over his frame again and she nears the bed. “I’ll connect the stone.” That was what truly registered with her, but perhaps somewhere in that mind, there was an ease to see his face again. Alive. Although she did not know what to do about the ease she felt. Only time would tell. The woman rubs a temple before that same hand reaches down to her satchel. A side pocket. Inside, she pulls out the other missing piece. She would reach her hand out with the stone, but she does not place it yet, not until he confirms.
(5/5) Before she places any stone, however, she adds her final thoughts on the spellblade’s health--she would be leaving soon. “Also, I won’t send Ruari, if that’ll make you happy. You’re so adamant about taking care of yourself.” Sound familiar, Penelope? She was a hypocrite. “I do -trust-, however,” here we go about ‘trust’, “that you do read my notes, Kyori. Follow the plan, or close to it.” She was going to leave notes for him to nurse himself back to health.
Oh Kyori definitely still smoked. Whoops. All the fight in the spellblade was flushed by the realization. They didn’t put the stone in. Call him a zombie, a hypocrite, a insert generic insult here but he didn’t lie if it mattered. When it mattered. It didn’t matter when they met. It matters now. “We still have a deal if I die.” She promised to make him sound dreamy in her re-telling of his heroic life. Kyori’d pay a hefty sum of gold to read Penelope’s thoughts. He can’t tell if she’s pissed or about to leave. It’s unnerving actually. She’s a creepy level of still. God damn it, if she didn’t believe him still. His sapphire eyes lift with a daring ‘try and stop me’. What would Lana say? Her reason for taping the ring wasn’t gonna fly. “Okay.” He rolls his eyes to mimic her. “Tell me some day, for real.” Not now. He couldn’t handle any more rollercoaster fits of rage like this. No where to go, no way to burn the energy off. Kyori’d marinate in it until he pruned.
“That’s not the whole point of the thing-” To wake him up, “-but whatever works.” He watches, surprised yet again that she’s agreeing -and- has the stone with her. He needed levity. “You care about me.” He says casually, like he’s commenting on the room’s bland decor. What he really said was ‘You trust me enough.’ “It can and will.” He confirms in a more serious baritone.
“God please don’t send that guy.” He groans, twisting the hilt of his sword until the recess for her stone faced her. When the stone got close, she’d feel the tug of insistence between sword and stone, like magnets. Once placed, a ring of light would spark and seal the two together. Sword and stone. Ash to ash. “I will, Nancy’ll kill me before you do if I slip up.” Kyori is positive she would. Women. Relief cuts at his face, a prickle of peace.
“Before you go.” He can’t muster enough get up and go to reach his shirt. It sits, rusty and wrinkled in the floor. “I ran into Lana before I could get in the Inn.” Don’t kill me. “And she needs your help and gave me a note to pass your way.” He’d folded the letter small enough that it fit in his cigarette pack. Help with an enchantment, needing another witch to complete the ritual. “All promises fulfilled.” The Aventurine glows on the sword, warm and serene. The feeling transfers. Penelope would feel a comfortable heat in the band. “I’ll read the notes, eat the food and sleep for not ever. Measure all the portions with tiny spoons and annoying scales. Classic potions 101.” He gives her a trademark smirk, wry and tired, “Trust me.”
(1/4) Penelope blinks at the man when he mentions their deal if Kyori dies. The comment throws the girl off, and she is hesitant, although still ‘creepily’ quiet. Perhaps she did not know what to say to the man. Not yet, for she was feeling the same feelings he was. A rollercoaster. Waves of relief, anger, hesitancy. It was a lot. Whatever, Pen, just put the stone in.
(2/4) ‘You care about me’. “I always did,” her tone was also as nonchalant as him. It was whatever, okay? There was still a wall, but not one as thick as the start. At least she was willing to bend a bit.
(3/4) “Oh, cry me a river,” she reaches to playfully tap the man. “I won’t bring him, okay?.” She then motions forward, and the pull of the magnet falls into place. It clicks. The connection reaches the ring, and she feels the radiation of heat. A gentle warm feeling touches her ring finger, and a line in her brow shows she feels the pulse. Doe eyes gaze at the warrior’s face now. Only for a beat. “I know Nancy’ll kill you. Women know,” the girl taps her temple with a smile. A genuine one. When the peace touches his face, she reflects it too. Whatever it meant.
(4/4) Then, he speaks of Lana. The freckled Ardelian searches about the room until her gaze finds the wrinkled shirt. He ran into Lana. Thank the Gods. “I’m surprised she didn’t stop by the hut,” then again, the Kelvarian witch was on her deathbed. The girl rummages through his shirt until she finds the cigarette pack. “Seriously?” She looks over her shoulder at him. “You talk about time not being taken away from you, but Kyori. Smoke kills, you dope. And you better have not let Lana have one of these. She has a problem too lately.” She was worried for the witch, and had taken cigarettes out of the woman’s mouth. The small folded note is opened and it explains that she is needed for an enchantment. Her brow furrows at reading the scribbles. “Hm.” Nel stares at the smoke pack before shrugging. “I think I’ll take both of these as important analyses.” What? Is she really attempting taking his smokes too along with the note? “Consider it your medical payment,” then, there is a wink at the man in the bed. She attempts to stick them in her pocket. As he agrees to her notes, she walks over to the journal on the table and rips out the page of notes and leaves it at the edge of his bed. ‘Trust me’. Instead of recognizing the request of trusting him, she looks at him softly one last time in her goodbyes. “Bye, Kyori. Ky. Ori. Kyori D. Whoever you are,” there was a faint smile. Eyes of uncertainty again even if the anger had faded. Then, she reaches the broken door, and she is gone. Yeah, she still has to fix that.