[The nice thing about text as a medium is that you don't need to muffle any urge to have a bit of a laugh aloud. Which may or may nor be what Luocha happens to indulge in, for a moment, upon reading that bit about Welt....]
Ah, that feeling of yours isn't too far off the mark, it seems. On the few occasions I've visited the Express thus far, Mr. Yang certainly does seem to keep his distance quite consistently...I must apologize for the distress I seem to be causing him. I'd offer to try remedying this at some point, but I'm not yet quite sure how.
[because lbr how does one even start addressing the Supremely Awkward vibes of having an evil self-help book emailed to you Stress this morning, is that right...? One's almost tempted to ask, but for the moment Luocha refrains. Maybe a bit later, depending on how things shake out here...]
My, "Trailblazer Courier Services" already sounds far more charming than the conventional cycranes, to be sure!
I am not being particularly secretive for the moment, though I appreciate the consideration towards such a possibility. [haha there's another personal in-joke somewhere here but anyway--] I'm still aboard the Luofu at present, in Starskiff Haven. Perhaps we could meet at the Petrichor Inn, if it truly wouldn't be too much trouble for you?
Edited 2023-12-06 05:48 (UTC)
my hands look like this so my rp friends' look like this, etc
It's not too much trouble. Everything is only ever a warp away.
[ That's true about a lot of things, in Caelus's world... but, after a slight pause, during which perhaps he packs that perfect sandwich into something more appropriate for Luocha to receive, he follows that up with a few more messages: ]
and I don't think you have to fix it It's not like you can help your face
I'll be there in a few minutes
[ What if he's wrong, and Luocha is, in fact, some kind of shapeshifter? Caelus muses about it as he makes his way down to the Petrichor Inn, more for the silliness of it all than anything else: suppose the kindly merchant is, in fact, a devil in disguise, one that has purposefully taken on the face of one of Welt's old enemies to haunt him?
It's not something he's contemplating seriously so much as a stupid scenario in his mind he's conjured up because he thinks it's funny to imagine Luocha as a shapeshifter. Briefly, he considers what the merchant would look like with a dragon's head on his body in place of his usually flawless face. Caelus has no way of knowing what happened in Welt's life prior to his arrival on the Astral Express; he knows nothing of a boy named Joachim Nokianvirtanen or the desperate fool named Otto Apocalypse who was both beautiful in his tragedy and tragic in his lunacy. But Welt has a point, in that Luocha does have that kind of face, he muses: too handsome, too perfect. The face of the villain in every video game. The kind of face that exists to remind its audience that beauty has its dangers, and that those who have reached the boundaries of human perfection are very likely to no longer be human.
Anyway, Caelus is a tragic fool in his own way, and he knows it. The type of idiot who'd show up at ass o' clock in the evening just to deliver a snack to someone he can't even really consider a friend. The type of guy who'd do it just because and for no real reason, no expectation of a reward or compensation or anything — maybe 5 Stellar Jades and whatever change Luocha has rattling around in his pocket, at best.
Yeah. That'd be good. Not necessary, but that'd be good.
There's this way that Caelus usually has about him, a determined long-legged stride like that of a thoroughbred racehorse ignoring the cheers and jeers and desperate pleading of its audience to assume its place at the start of the track - today, though, there's something very slightly off about him. He's doing a decent enough job of hiding it, for someone unused to keeping secrets, but it's a very slight, very subtle limp.
As he strides into the lobby of the Petrichor Inn, he looks around. Luocha didn't give him a room number or anything, but he wasn't expecting anything like that, anyway. Maybe he's — ah, there. There's that blond head.
Caelus walks over, smoothly enough. Stops short in front of Luocha, then holds out a little lunchbox tied up in a white linen cloth. ]
Your sandwich, sir. [ A slight pause, and then he mock-bows, mostly to shift his weight onto his back leg instead. ] Correction — your perfect sandwich, sir.
[ His straight-faced silliness has a bit of a different atmosphere when there aren't cute Pom-pom stickers to accompany it. ]
[Insofar as a premise for a visit between practical strangers goes, yes, this might be one of the more ridiculous. Jury's still out on whether Luocha's even going to actually eat the sandwich, once all is said and done...but somehow, at some point in this idle little exchange, humoring mildly drunken musings on too-perfect sandwiches had turned into something like an opportunity.
An opportunity for what? Well...an opportunity to find out just what might transpire, perhaps, in the company of the Luofu's newest famed ally--outside the bounds of the Express, and any particularly pressing business obligations between either of them. Well, setting aside the business of the newest Trailblazer Courier Services, anyway...for loose definitions of the word...
Either way, the long and short of it is that there's time to spare before Luocha himself needs to proceed with certain affairs. He hasn't been asleep this night anyway. Might just forego it entirely, at this rate...and this little meeting surely might prove just a bit more interesting than idly wandering the slumbering streets of Starskiff Haven, in the interim.
He's been in the lobby for a few minutes before Caelus arrives, actually, though to be fair it's a seat a bit out of the way of the main entrance. Just him, at this hour, his customary coffin absent--even the receptionist usually manning the front desk is currently out on break. ...Luocha knows Caelus has arrived before he even steps through the doors; the thrum of a nearby Stellaron can be somewhat likened to a steady bass frequency heard by very few ears, except it is something more felt than heard. A second pulse that isn't your own. Thin and slow, fast asleep, still no greedy pang of hunger as yet. ...It's really quite impressive, how stable it rests within this vessel. Caelus doesn't seem to know...one wonders if any of the Nameless are actually aware, of the true extent of such a feat. It'll probably always be a fascinating bit of dichotomy to observe, the way this perfectly secured timebomb can roam about such locales as these with nearly all surrounding him none the wiser...
And that's not even yet touching upon the personality the timebomb's already formed for himself, now is it?
Still, Luocha at least has the courtesy to turn his head as if the exact timing of Caelus's arrival is an unanticipated thing anyhow. He stands, as he's approached, customary slight smile settling upon this too-perfect face of his: the kind of smile that's immaculately business pleasant, even in the face of the straight-faced silliness Caelus proceeds to beeline into. (The kind of smile that seemingly makes no note of that ever-so-slightly shortened stride, there...)]
It seems this really was only a warp away for you, wasn't it? That was about thirteen minutes, I'd say--quite impressive, for a first delivery. [The mock-bow is reciprocated with a gracious tip of his head that's a bit too well-executed to quite match the mock sentiment here. But maybe reciprocating just sort of adds to the irreverent energy afoot...and if Luocha's glance lingers down at that shifted leg for just a moment, well--oh, or maybe he was actually just eyeing the offered lunchbox, before reaching to accept it? That's what he's doing about now, anyway.] My thanks to you, for this gift. Something so perfect must still be rather difficult to part with. Hmm, I suppose I ought to at least compensate you for your time...
[But even as he's reaching into an inner pocket of his coat with his free hand, Luocha continues on, with a well-measured lilt of simple idle curiosity:] But I do also have a question for you now...if you'd be receptive to humoring me, before you rush off to your other deliveries?
[ Caelus has thought about it too, once or twice or a thousand times before: what would happen if the Stellaron inside of him was removed from his body? Herta's joked before about him exploding, and the awful mess he'll make for her employees afterward — but suppose, theoretically, it could be done? Would he remain himself? Would he still have value to the Astral Express, or would he find himself locked outside of its doors for the rest of his days? If his purpose is to hold the Stellaron, will he be worthless without it? Who is he, in the destiny that has been prescribed for him?
Ultimately, he came to the conclusion that it all really doesn't matter very much.
Screw it. If he dies, he dies.
That's really the only way to solve philosophical questions, sometimes — and that's why, as he slowly draws himself back to a normal standing position, weight still firmly planted on only one leg, Caelus looks Luocha in the eyes and answers calmly, with no fear of artifice or ensnarement: ]
Sure. What's the question?
[ He hears nothing but the sound of his own breathing; he can usually only hear the thrum of the Stellaron inside of him late at night, before he falls asleep. The evening seems deliciously quiet, and no one else is around. Abstractly, and partly as a joke, Caelus wonders if Luocha has murdered the Inn's customary receptionist. ]
[If the receptionist has been murdered in the last ten minutes or so, the scene has sure been perfectly scrubbed since! No sign of struggle at the desk, not a hair out of place on Luocha's head, and no trace of anything particularly unsettled in the atmosphere. But maybe Luocha would be the sort of person to pivot right from a murder to a pleasant delivery pickup interaction with hardly a slip of expression to give anything away.........just as nothing is given away now, in the continuing idle cadence of his body language as he pulls out his wallet (which is, unsurprisingly, also white with a gold-accented design). Nor in the absentminded thoughtful hum of his tone, as he asks:]
Hm...would you find more use for strales or credits, at present? Perhaps both?
[.........Wait, was that the actual question, or--]
[ Caelus blinks at Luocha, having clearly expected something of a much more... substantial question. Maybe it's just one that occurred to Luocha in the moment? There's nothing like surprise on the Trailblazer's face in response to this, mind — just a sort of careful lifelessness. What with being a vessel for the Stellaron, a tendency to act occasionally vessel-like comes with the territory. ]
...Whatever you see fit to give? The sandwich was free.
[ He takes another moment to consider it, tipping his head to one side as he touches his hand to his chin. Then, with a sort of healthy avarice, he adds: ]
[The blink telegraphs almost enough in itself, where the sort of question Caelus had likely been anticipating might be concerned, but there's still credit that ought to be placed where it's due for the cautiously impassive expression on the Trailblazer's features all the same. Luocha makes no outward indication of noticing either of these things, and instead nods slightly with a slight smile to match at the response eventually given.]
Well, if you do consider this a gift freely given, I'd at least like to thank you for the generosity. Consider this a gift for a gift...I've always had a habit for mutual exchange, you see. After all, as it is said, that which is seized must be repaid... [There's something almost automatic about the way he murmurs that last bit, rather the same way one might recite a quote or a snippet of a song they've long memorized by heart. The shift comes and goes, no longer than a moment,] --Besides, it does occur to me that I'll not have much use for strales myself before long. So, I may as well pass the majority of the change I have left to you, where they'll still find good use.
[The lunchbox with its linen cloth wrap is placed down onto the chair behind him. Then, a seeming warm note settling upon his smile, Luocha offers the decent handful of change consisting of credits and strales combined to Caelus. It's...definitely more than even the most artisanal peanut butter and jelly sandwich would possibly be worth to buy from any given food vendor--but look, don't worry about it? Level up a trace or two, buy some more eidolons from that one pawn shop. It's his treat!
Should Caelus offer a hand to accept this exchange, Luocha will place the money into his palm with...both hands, one closing over top, one clasping underneath. Which may result in Caelus's hand being effectively trapped, in this fashion.
So he can't start walking away just yet, or anything like that, before Luocha's done pleasantly adding:] Oh, but I do have one other question! I just can't help but wonder...how exactly are you planning to properly launch this courier business of yours, with your leg in a state like that?
[ Caelus holds out his hand, and Luocha presses money into it, going on in his pleasantly long-winded way, in a tone and cadence that is sort of strangely soothing in its rhythmic consistency. The Trailblazer listens, but sometimes he isn't really listening; sometimes he suspects that overexposure to Kafka's powers has made him particularly susceptible to aural hypnotism. There's too much money, and Caelus frowns. He's too nice, he thinks, again rather abstractly. That's too much. ]
That's — more than...
[ Then Luocha's other hand closes over his, and Caelus jolts out of his reverie, and thinks, Oh. Maybe I shouldn't have come after all.
It's a bizarre thing to think, because — as he settles into this new situation, assessing it gingerly, his hand clasped in Luocha's — there's nothing very wrong about this, really. There's no danger being posed to him. Despite Welt's odd hangups about men who look like this man, there is past documentation that Luocha is a sort of bizarre do-gooder, and logically, he has done nothing wrong.
It's just, Caelus thinks, as he again looks into Luocha's smiling eyes and finds nothing there to doubt, there's something so strange about how he set this up like a trap.
He doesn't move his hand out of the hand sandwich. The handwich. Bereft of other things to do, the young man curls his fingers a little to keep the strales in place — but now this makes it seem like he and Luocha are holding hands. In the handwich. He grimaces. It might be about their hands, but maybe it's just because he's been reminded about his leg. ]
...Oh. It's not that bad. I forgot about it until now, actually.
[ There's no particular reason to keep information from Luocha, and the obvious next question is how he injured himself, so Caelus surrenders the answer without further prompting. ]
March tripped down the stairs this morning, and she was really embarrassed about it. So I also tripped down the stairs. To support her.
[ This is delivered very flatly and earnestly, as if it was a perfectly logical thing to do. ]
Landed a bit harder than she did, though. I guess I'm heavy? [ A soft scoff under his breath: a barely concealed laugh. ] And Welt was, uh... concerned.
[ Hence the stress, presumably.
Caelus's lips twitch; he seems more than aware the whole thing is absurd, and he offers the story to Luocha like an apology. It's fine. There's nothing wrong. ]
[If it's any consolation, the rambling was at least actually less an intentional facet of the trapping, and more an aspect of Luocha's genuine habit of getting a bit long-winded about things on occasion...!
But "trapping" still...sure is the word for it, at the end of the day. Isn't it? Even if there doesn't seem to be any ill intent behind it in the least. Even if, to a passing outside eye, this probably still looks like a perfectly friendly or even uuh rather intimately handwiching exchange. Yes, the fact remains, that Luocha didn't exactly have to go about asking his question quite like this...but it's something of a running theme of how he operates, as Caelus now happens to be discovering firsthand. Did he have to take care of the spoilered book in that bookshop like that? Did he have to rescue those two guys and leave a fancy origami flower behind like that? (Did he have to get himself arrested on a particular future occasion quite like that--?)
The answer, as far as he's concerned, is yes. Yes, he needs to do those things like that. When you find a method that works, you tend to start applying it to just about everything....]
My, my...I suppose it really is true, that good friends will often go to embarrassing lengths to support each other. Hah, even if it sounds as if you've taken that philosophy perhaps a bit too literally. But I can only assume Miss March must have been quite grateful.
[Hmm, it probably already says something about the initial impression Caelus has formed upon Luocha so far, that he's honestly not entirely sure whether the Trailblazer's lying about having tripped on accident too or genuinely did think an intentionally mutual tripping would help things...
Ah well. Same result either way. Caelus curls his fingers to keep the money from falling out, and Luocha's very helpfully curling his fingers in turn. To also secure the money, of course. And if that makes the handwich even more of a strangely intimate hand-holding than it already is, then well, sometimes things just turn out this way!
Luocha will let go eventually, not to worry.
(.......Besides, it's not to say this hasn't resulted in something unexpected on Luocha's end of things too. It genuinely hadn't been part of the idea, in anchoring Caelus by this particular way, but it's a side-effect that's now happening regardless: the fact that this closer proximity, and physical contact, is now sending an even clearer feedback of the Stellaron currently residing in the young man's body. Which is...an interesting discovery, to be sure. Hm. For once, Luocha finds himself rather grateful for his preference towards wearing gloves. ...Now is not the time to investigate this--)]
All the same, this being the source of Mr. Yang's stress isn't so surprising. But you mentioned he's been distressed since this morning...so that was when the tripping event occurred, hm? It has been some time since then. [Luocha peers speculatively at Caelus's features--perhaps searching for any telltale signs of a pained grimace being held back, or anything along those lines--before his glance drops down to the favored leg. He tilts his head.] ...Does the Express does not have any designated healer among its crew?
[ That is one of the stranger things about Caelus, really: the ambiguity of him. Did he lie, or did he actually fall on purpose? He presents himself as something so very simple. A heroic Trailblazer, yes, easy to believe in. Stoic, straight-faced, mostly selfless and sometimes selfish — prone to saying ridiculous and incomprehensible things on the rare occasions he does open his mouth. Probably stupid. The type of single-brain-celled creature that everyone has met before in the pages of a book.
The issue with this first impression he offers people is that his amber gaze is entirely too analytical when he stares at his surroundings as the others are talking, and sometimes, when he pulls Welt Yang aside to discuss the intricacies of their political situation, Caelus's observations are even more incisive than those conjured up by Dan Heng.
You're always pretending to be quiet, March grumbled to him once, with peevish, sisterly exasperation. It says a lot that even she's aware that he's mostly pretending to be a lot of things.
That being said, he's not in control. Caelus is a lot of things, but he's rarely, if ever, in control.
Case in point: the imperceptible bass pulse of the Stellaron is stuttering. It wouldn't be an issue for anyone else, but Luocha has enough experience with Stellarons to detect and track the one inside of Caelus. It's — what is it doing? Stumbling. Skipping. Like a racing heart.
(The fact that it is in sync with Caelus's heartbeat is objectively fascinating. Mostly because: it shouldn't be. The Stellaron ought to be a separate entity, its own lifeform, clawing to get out. It should find the ebbs and flows of his body stifling, exhausting; it should long to conquer more. But the one inside of Caelus has apparently acclimated to its environment, calm and settled, as though it's always belonged there. Less a cancer and more like... co-evolution?)
Caelus can't hear anything but the pounding of his own pulse in his ears. There's nothing on the Trailblazer's face that suggests he is flustered. Maybe a dusting of pink on his cheeks — or maybe that's just the lantern lights. His expression is as neutral as always. It's not as though he's some pining schoolboy. It's just. This is embarrassing. They're holding hands in a handwich and Luocha's flawless face is looking at him much too intently, and he's really not used to being the subject of undivided personal attention. ]
Nah. We don't have one. [ He can't hold the merchant's gaze any longer. Awkwardly, Caelus stares at a middle point over the man's shoulder instead, feeling too conscious of the drape of his blond hair. ] March can use her ice to make shields or hold wounds together for a minute, but no one can really... heal.
[ What is he doing. What are they doing. What if Mr. Yang came by to be like "Sorry to interrupt... whatever is going on here." That would be nice. Where is he. On reflex, Caelus brushes his thumb over Luocha's knuckles and blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind: ]
Your gloves are really soft.
[ Caelus thinks he finally understands the phrase buttery-soft leather, and resolves to keep his mind locked on that for at least the next thirty seconds. ]
[Fascinating to be sure. Truly...truly, fascinating. A Stellaron is a force all its own, conventionally, single-mindedly selfish as any cancer should be--and cancers do not experience "embarrassment", or "fluster". Yet there it is, that unmistakable stammer in the tempo...matching all too timely with that tell-tale flush in the young man's cheeks, the break of his eye contact, despite the steadiness of his poker face.
Remarkable. Unheard of. They've outdone themselves with this vessel, really...and the chances of this being an accidental phenomenon are vanishingly small. A Stellaron melded perfectly with a personably human will--why, there are truly countless applications that could come of that, now aren't there? ...Luocha's interest had been piqued ever since their first in-person encounter upon the Express, honestly, but now...oh, this may have been a bit of a mistake. Making contact quite like this. The urge to test the exact bounds of this particular Stellaron, as one might pluck at a new instrument to examine the unique flavor of its tune, emerges unbidden and terribly curious--
But now is not the time to investigate this.
...The thumb that brushes over his knuckles tells as much. An unexpected reciprocation--probably something of a nervous reflex in itself, really, to judge by Caelus's overall reaction here both internal and external--and all those diverted thoughts are promptly stilled. They might have had a part, admittedly, in the intensity of Luocha's scrutiny...but now he blinks, at that last remark there. A slight deviation from the careful set of his own expression if only for the surprise of it...before a flicker of amusement fills the gap promptly enough.]
...Yes, they're quite nice, aren't they? I have always been rather partial to this pair for that reason...but, for that matter...
[The curl of his own fingers finally loosens; if Caelus would be so kind as to permit it, Luocha's releasing his hand at last. The money's even left in his palm! Probably the ideal outcome here. (Welt might not have been around to break up the moment in the end, but no doubt his Otto Nonsense Radar is probably tingling with unbidden foreboding somewhere on the Express about now--)]
My apologies. Perhaps that was a bit forward of me... [You know, to judge by Caelus's reaction, even if it was a mostly lack thereof externally. Internally, though, what else could the falter in that pulse have meant? ...The feedback quiets, now that they're apart again, moreso as Luocha draws a pace back. This is equal parts a relief and a mild disappointment, and we are only going to examine the implications of those parts at a later date.] I am aware this is objectively none of my business, really, and if you don't consider it much of a problem then your judgment ought to be respected. However, as a healer myself, I must admit that I always find it a bit difficult to leave the injuries of others unattended...
[The Nameless of the Express really ought to look into that shortcoming in their roster, some absentminded part of Luocha's thoughts is musing. From a tactical standpoint it's quite surprising, actually, that they've no prompt medical measures at all for such incidents as this...considering the ventures they've gotten up to of late...ah, but the word is that their numbers are quite diminished and scattered these days. The fact that the Express travels once more at all is recent and rather surprising news. The motley gathering is still a work in progress? It ought to be interesting to see how things turn out there, in due time...but anyway.]
My own methods are not at all time-consuming, and it would be of no particular cost to me. So, if I were to offer...would you be receptive to having that mended, sir?
[ (Somewhere on the Astral Express, Mr. Welt Yang is surely pacing back and forth, muttering about how something is wrong somewhere in the universe, and Himeko is chiding him, in her usual calm way, to just please relax.)
Luocha withdraws. Caelus's tension leaves him in the same instant. The Trailblazer's shoulders slope lower as the merchant pulls back, and while he doesn't go as far as heaving a sigh, the rapid-fire pounding of his heart soon begins to slow, propelling the erratic vibrations of the Stellaron back towards something resembling normalcy.
Silently, he takes a deep breath as he draws his own hand back to his side, then stows the money in his pocket, slow and careful, without sudden movements. He is thinking very resolutely about how smooth and delicate the leather of Luocha's gloves was, and by focusing entirely on that one thing, he can stop himself from thinking about anything else.
Too dangerous to let his mind wander. Too dangerous to do a lot of things.
Right. Anyway. The leg. It's very quick, but Caelus actually grimaces thinking about it, passing a hand over his face to hide the change in his expression. He tests his weight on his injured leg; it's still uncomfortable, sending a shock of pain from injured tissues through his system. Hm. He lowers his arm back to his side. ]
I'd owe you one if you fixed it... It's in a weird spot, though. I landed on my hip.
[ More to satisfy his own curiosity than to show Luocha specifically, Caelus tugs a little at the hem of his shirt with the tips of his fingers, looking down at the sliver of skin this reveals. No one else is around, so he's not really concerned about modesty, and, really, he wouldn't be that concerned about it even if they were surrounded by a gaggle of gossiping Foxian ladies. Past the line of his hipbone, there's a bright red bruise peeking out from the waistband of his pants along the side of his leg where he must have landed. Not so bad-looking now, no, but it's mottled enough that it'll look positively awful when it turns blue-black by tomorrow.
Caelus's eyelids lower to half-mast, making him look a little sleepy. He's not really thinking about anything at all. Just leather, and the way that, to some degree, he's conflating his trust in Natasha to that of healers in general. ]
...I guess you don't have to be able to see it? I don't know how your powers work.
[The tension that promptly leaves Caelus's shoulders as soon as the contact breaks is noticed, as evenly in tandem as it falls with the gradual calming of the Stellaron's unsteady beat. ...But, at least, Luocha makes no outward indication that any note has been made of this. Instead, the meticulously natural mask of mildly curious concern remains steady upon his own features, as Caelus collects himself enough to return focus to his leg and test its current limits.
--The result is apparently less than pleasant, if that actual grimace is anything to go by. Luocha's eyes follow his line of sight to the hem of his shirt as the latter tugs it up a bit without much further fanfare, narrowly revealing the splotch of crimson bruising that's bloomed across the pale skin there. Which is...well, that sure is a thing to be doing, out in the middle of an inn's lobby. There's something equally strange and amusing about how Caelus can make a little display like this without so much as a hint of hesitance or shame, when the fairly innocent handwich of a mere minute earlier had done such a number on his internal composure. Ah, not that this isn't clearly an innocent sort of gesture in its own way--it's obvious, of course, that Caelus is simply checking on the wound for himself. But it's just, you know...
It's not even that Luocha is a sort of person particularly prone to shame in the conventional sense himself, actually, despite his preferred habit of primly composed collection in all that he does. However, at least of late, he has been maintaining a very specific sort of image for the passing eye over the course of his stint upon the Luofu...for various reasons....and while hanging about in relative public with a young man fiddling at his clothing in the dead of night maybe isn't the most scandalous thing in the world, the fact remains. The lobby receptionist actually is still alive and not-murdered somewhere in this building, after all, and they're going to be returning from break sooner rather than later. To say nothing of the non-zero chance that a particularly late traveler seeking a night's sleep might yet still pass through the entrance at any given moment.
So, in short. Even if Caelus will likely be dropping his shirt back down soon enough, and even if it is technically true that Luocha's healing isn't particularly hindered by material in the way...this probably still isn't the place for this, now is it?]
Hmm. It is still more accessible than some other wounds I've encountered, in my time. It's indeed unnecessary for me to see the full extent of it, either, as this can be a sort of thing more felt out than observed. However...
[Luocha turns away, to retrieve the sandwich package that's been sitting patiently upon the chair behind him this whole time. Then he turns back towards Caelus, and beckons to him, before starting a step or two towards a hall off to the side of the lobby.]
Let's not have an entire consultation out here, hm? If you think you could manage just a bit more of a walk...quite fortunately for us, my current quarters here are located on the first floor, only a few doors down this way. Follow me.
[His tone is as amiably pleasant as ever, so technically the flexibility probably still exists, but. Luocha sure didn't actually leave any room for protest about this, did he......]
[ Caelus is well aware, from personal experience, that the Luofu's leaders have surveillance systems running throughout most public areas in Starskiff Haven. It's not likely to happen unless some sort of incident prompts the Realm-Keeping Commission to conduct a thorough investigation, but if anyone ever reviews the footage from the last few minutes from the lobby of the Petrichor Inn, what they'll see is absolutely dripping with suspicion. A handsome young outworlder from the Astral Express meets with an equally handsome foreign merchant in the dead of the night. Some type of package is exchanged. The merchant gives the Trailblazer a seemingly sizable amount of money. The young man lifts his shirt, as if to call attention to his well-defined abs and the chiseled taper of his hips. More quiet words are exchanged. Then the two retire together to the merchant's room. He's not sure if there are any laws on the books in the Xianzhou regarding prostitution and solicitation, but objectively, this is probably enough to get him arrested by the laws of some planets, and the truth of what has actually transpired tonight is honestly too ridiculous to believe.
Caelus is aware of this, really, but he dismisses the possibility because — on some level, though he's confident enough about his looks, in a way where no one could ever believe his confidence in itself isn't a joke — it has just never really occurred to him that he might ever be seen as an object which might elicit desire.
It'd be a more serious threat, he figures, if he were Dan Heng. Wherever they go, there's always someone thirsting over Dan Heng.
Anyway — it'd be great if Luocha could heal him. He does have some other miscellaneous aches and pains in different places, and he could probably use a complete physical, all things considered. There wasn't really time, back in Belobog, and Bailu sort of offered, once, but she implied that she charges a lot of money to do that kind of thing, and most of Caelus's credits and strales get spent on his friends. Besides, he's well aware that Luocha wasn't about to kiss him or anything like that, a few minutes ago, despite his wildly racing heart. There's a part of him that can't explain how nervous he got, even to himself; it's not even as though the prospect of holding Luocha's hand again makes him giddy, or anything like that. Caelus is pretty sure that, if the merchant gets kind of touchy again, he'll probably be pretty normal about it.
It's just — something about being seen. He's not used to being seen.
(So much easier to hide behind March's exuberance, or Dan Heng's aura of mystery, or Welt's competence, or Himeko's grace. As long as he's the funny one, he doesn't have to be seen.) ]
Sure. Lead the way.
[ It doesn't occur to Caelus, really, that Luocha didn't leave him room to refuse. After all, the flip side of this is: why would he refuse? He chose to come out here tonight; he doesn't have anything better to do. It beats drinking by himself, unable to sleep. ]
[There's just something about that Dan Heng that people can't seem to resist huh....though Caelus could certainly do with giving himself a bit more credit in the department of desirability! Luocha, being the kind of person that he is, may be currently far more intrigued by the exceptional properties of the Stellaron that nestles singing in the young man's chest cavity...but, you know, he's not exactly blind either. There's an appealing build there, and a sort of down-to-earth sensibility in terms of looks that renders his face quite an approachable one. Overall, it wouldn't be impossible for him to actually be mistaken for entertaining certain...activities...on the side....
Which. Yeah speaking of Incidents That Might Prompt The Realm-Keeping Commission To Conduct A Thorough Investigation Of Luocha's Haunts Later............this sure is going to be footage that's. Fairly compromising out of context indeed. To say the least. ...But, well, it'll be a comparative drop in the bucket next to the magnitude of the rest of Luocha's rapsheet by then...and even if the Xianzhou had policies of reprimand where solicitation might be concerned, would they hazard to bring that up against Caelus by that time? An honored guest of General Jing Yuan, who provided a sizeable helping hand in subduing an emerging Lord Ravager upon the Luofu? To say nothing of how the Astral Express crew will likely be long gone to other affairs in Penacony by then...
How very fortunate that they're both going to be diverting enough to Luofu authorities, in vastly different ways, that this little exchange here's likely to be tucked delicately under the rug. And so the actual ridiculous truth of the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a leg injury from a moderately stupid accident earlier in the day, will never truly come to light either--]
Here, after you. Have a seat if you'd like, while I put this away...
[As promised, the walk to Luocha's room is a fairly short one down the hall, and on the other side of the door...is a very nice room, to be sure. One of the suites, as it turns out, the kind with separated spaces for a kitchenette and a small living space and such. Perhaps a bit oddly, though, despite the fact that Luocha has spent a moderate amount of time aboard the Luofu by now...it's immaculately clean and neat all throughout the space, to the point that it barely looks as if anyone has been living there for any stretch of time at all. ...Though it does smell rather pleasantly like some sort of flower in here?
And, of course, there sure is the full-sized elaborate coffin propped up against a wall in the sitting space by the nearest window. Very normal hotel luggage thing....!
Luocha has briefly trailed off to the kitchenette to drop off the sandwich. Will Caelus have a seat as offered?]
[ (In the future, if this ever comes back to bite him — well, even if he's in Penacony, Diviner Fu Xuan and General Jing Yuan will probably just ask him what he was doing with Luocha that evening. And then, of course, whether or not Caelus tells anyone the truth will be up to him to decide.)
Luocha's quarters are lovely. Somehow, Caelus didn't expect otherwise. Though he's only met the man on a handful of prior occasions, and has never quite gotten the picture of what, exactly, the man sells, the merchant certainly seems prosperous enough, and can rattle off a number of convincing deals and meetings on his schedule at any hour of the day. The fact that the suite doesn't seem lived-in doesn't occur to him as a point of suspicion; after all, maybe housekeeping came through earlier in the day and cleaned everything up, and Luocha could just be the sort of businessman who doesn't really trouble himself with luxuriating in a hotel's amenities.
Though... would the man really let the inn's cleaning crew near that coffin of his?
Caelus does not take a seat. Luocha left it open to an if you'd like, after all, and the Trailblazer can't really decide which of the several chairs he should take a seat in. Anyway, he's been on his leg all day; pain in itself doesn't really bother him, and he figures he may as well remain in discomfort for a little longer.
The Stellaron inside of Caelus has slowed to its usual dull pace. In fact, there's a new low hum to it — it seems pleased. Caelus himself feels excellently relaxed. It's always soothing to walk into a comfortable room, and it does smell very nice in Luocha's suite — sweet in a way that reminds Caelus of white flowers, like lily or jasmine or honeysuckle. He can't pinpoint the exact species. Vaguely, the Trailblazer remembers detecting a hint of this scent on Luocha himself, earlier.
The fragrance, though... is it coming from the coffin? ]
...
[ Despite all outward pretensions, Caelus is not really that stupid. He has never been in the presence of Luocha's coffin before this, but he knows of it from the general summary of Dan Heng's adventures on the Luofu. The thing inside of it should be "a person," but standing in front of it now, he's almost certain that there's something inside...
He stares at it for a moment.
Then he reaches out with one hand, intent on grazing his knuckles rather gently against the coffin's surface. Perhaps the entity inside of it is asleep, but he doesn't mean it any harm — maybe he just means to say hi...? ]
[The coffin makes no sound. (It has no right to make sound.) The silence within is as absolute as the silence without. (When you keep silent, you are free.) Quite the stark contrast, in one sense, to the Stellaron's persistent thrum. ...But Caelus's intuition rings true, in this instance, for there is indeed something inside. Perhaps it's a connection of parallels, from one vessel to another--that it takes one to know one, as that sort of saying goes.
The entity in the coffin has been asleep until this moment. But now, as it's approached...something does seem to stir within, imperceptibly; this is very much an impression felt, for the coffin in itself is physically entirely inert. Maybe it's in response to the separate power that's now drawing near, regardless of whether or not Caelus is actively exerting it. There may not be any eyes to do it, but at least ever so briefly, there is a distinct impression that he is being perceived. And...well...just before those knuckles make contact with the lid...
Has Caelus ever had six knives aimed at the back of his head before?
[It's not so sharp as to be a reprimand, not exactly. But there's just enough of an abrupt edge to Luocha's voice that it still marks a shift from his more favored pleasantry. He's paused in the doorway to the living space, returning from the kitchenette, his glance appraising between Caelus and the coffin--expression still fairly genial, but eyebrows slightly arched.
...Less sharp, the edge promptly dulled with a mild humor as Luocha moves further into the room:] I see you're in the habit of investigating just about anything in a new space, now aren't you?
[Luocha's eyes are still trained on where that hand had been extended to the coffin--or is it now withdrawn?]
He doesn't get to touch the coffin. He can't honestly tell whether or not it was the sudden edge in Luocha's voice that stopped him, or the sudden, overwhelming feeling that he was being threatened. And the threat — was it coming from Luocha himself, or the thing inside the coffin?
The funny thing is that the Trailblazer isn't really that off-put. He doesn't feel particularly chastised, either, not by Luocha, or his own instincts. It's just kind of what he was expecting, that's all: he tried to pet a cat, and the cat hissed. If it bit or scratched him, well, that would have been just its nature, and he the erstwhile fool who tried to test its boundaries.
What Caelus doesn't like is this: that feeling from the coffin reminds him of the time that Nanook killed him on sight in Herta's Simulated Universe.
It was the exact same feeling. ]
...Sorry. It's not polite to touch someone's things without asking.
[ He's self-aware, at least. Calmly, Caelus lowers his hand back to his side, stepping back from the coffin, and then meets Luocha's gaze, something suitably apologetic in his soft golden gaze. Whether or not his contriteness is genuine is up for debate. Whether or not he is absolved of sin is for to Luocha to decide. ]
[In the end the coffin is never touched, and so...any repercussion that may or may not have resulted ends up not coming to pass. Whether the outcome would have been something actually active from the coffin, or a far stronger reprimand on Luocha's own part--such a question goes unanswered, at least here and now. (...Though the sense of threat did not come from Luocha, no, valid as that option might be as a guess on Caelus's part...)
Luocha's approach draws to a halt at a point where he ends up standing...well, a bit closer to the coffin than to Caelus. Though eye contact is held a moment, the latter young man's contrition in spoken word and leveled glance duly noted, whether genuine or not. A wry smile settles upon Luocha's features.]
No, it is not particularly polite, I'd agree.
[There's no bite to the acknowledgment; the slight edge of earlier has passed entirely from his tone, now that Caelus has stepped back from the coffin. ...Hmm. Honestly, considering the small series of events that has led up to this, Luocha honestly can't even entirely fault Caelus for the temptation...because leaving the young man alone even briefly in the same room as such a distinct object was probably bound to yield a result along these lines. It's just, there is a certain sort of impression that most any coffin will give off, after all, that tends to demand at least a bit more delicacy from most people. (Key word most.) The implied purpose of a coffin is usually sufficient enough to repel too-touchy inquiry all on its own...
But the Trailblazer evidently doesn't quite have such qualms. ...Can he tell there's something more than a deceased body there? One wonders...]
Still, a strong sense of curiosity is often at odds with politeness. Doubtless it's served you well enough in the past, but--hm? [It looks like--? The observation almost startles out a laugh, bluntly as it's put forth. Luocha glances to the coffin again, shifting over to lightly wrap a hand around one of its side handles. (There is another slight stir from within, not as vehement as moments earlier. Like a faint impression of a sigh of breath, though whether it's relieved or unhappy or some other sentiment is impossible to say.)] Well...I suppose you're not wrong, that my preferred dress rather matches it. We do hail from the same homeland, after all. Or do you mean to say that I carry rather coffin-like qualities of my own?
[Whatever that would even mean.....but, amusement lilting his tone, it seems Luocha at least isn't taking offense to the idea. He looks to Caelus once more.]
Either way. I'd not mind moving this article somewhere else, if you think you might find its presence too distracting while I check on your injury...
[ Caelus shakes his head, placing one hand on his heart, and says very earnestly: ]
It's beautiful. You're beautiful, too.
[ ...
One would be forgiven for thinking that perhaps he has been infected with nonsense by a certain Knight of Beauty, but no. Argenti had nothing to do with this. This is a Caelus original.
Anyway — Luocha's following statements indirectly confirm that he intends to examine Caelus here, in this particular sitting area, so the young man sinks into a nearby armchair. It's the sort with a decorative cushion, one which Luocha has likely never so much as disturbed; the Trailblazer, however, has no qualms about taking it into his arms, one hand giving it a good squeeze to test its squishiness. He sits with his spine flush against the back of the chair, long legs askew and bent at the knees, arms resting on the cushion in his lap. Quite comfortable, for a guy who just dodged murderous intent via Death Thorns. ]
You can leave it where it is. If it doesn't want to be disturbed, I won't bother it again.
[ If it doesn't want to be disturbed is, probably, the closest confirmation Luocha will get to the idea that perhaps Caelus is perfectly aware that the thing inside of the coffin is not merely a dead body. But, true to his word, the Trailblazer isn't so much as looking at it anymore. ]
[...Really, though. Coming from anyone else, with any other sort of delivery, it's a positively ridiculous sort of compliment. In the bluntness, and the strange framing with a coffin. And yet...hard to come by such plain sincerity these days. It's rather endearing. --There's a surprising thought, idly as it forms.
Luocha does laugh this time. It's a brief thing, but actually genuine for once, distinctly as it contrasts to the odd polite chuckle here and there on past occasions.]
My, you should be a little more careful about telling people such flattering things, sir. You're going to make me blush, and that would be quite embarrassing... [He's not blushing even a little bit, it should be said. He might look away, but it's more sidelong to the coffin again anyhow, and as his mirth settles his tone is placid once more.] ...Still, you're not wrong. It is very beautiful, isn't it?
[There's a certain almost imperceptible reverence, in his slow release of the coffin's side handle, before he steps away from it once more.]
...If it truly doesn't bother you, then very well. Your discretion where it's concerned would be appreciated.
[Most people also do not speak of coffins as sentient things in their own right. So Caelus has noticed...something, at the least--another fascinating mental note to take down. To what extent? Another question ill-fit for this occasion, but it's surely filed away too. Caelus emphasizes his apparent ease with the current room and All its inhabitants by finally sitting down and getting himself very comfortable in that chair (which has definitely gone untouched for the entirety of Luocha's stay until just now); Luocha drifts over to stand in front of him in turn, now, and reaches for his own left wrist, slowly tugging free the chain of his gold charm where it's customarily wrapped about his palm under his sleeve.
Without further pretense, he kneels down gracefully next to the leg that's been ailing Caelus, left hand extending over his thigh but not quite touching it. The charm flickers where it hangs; for Caelus, there is perhaps a very faint sensation of an invisible warm flame being held close; the scent of white flowers, which had seemed to indeed source most strongly from the coffin earlier, take on a freshly renewed note in the air between them. Luocha hums thoughtfully.]
...Several muscles pulled after all, yes. Nothing major, at the least. Though, hm... [His hand drifts up further, still not touching, though it curves over the empty air at Caelus's side.] While it might be your most painful ailment, this isn't your only one, is it? Perhaps not wounds, and perhaps still nothing particularly severe, yet still...conducting yourself a bit recklessly of late, are you?
[ Luocha may not be blushing, but Caelus certainly is. In his defense, he's not quite as flustered as he was in the lobby; his pulse is only slightly elevated, and the dusting of pink over his cheeks is so subtle that most would probably take it as the gentle light of something else in the room rebounding over his pale skin. He's feeling nervous again, though. Something about being looked at; something about being seen. He digs his fingers into the cushion and then relaxes them. ]
...The path of the Trailblazer is a pretty reckless one by definition, I guess.
[ Now that Caelus stops to think about it, he's basically been fighting ever since he woke up on Herta's Space Station. There's been time to rest between expeditions, but never for very long, and he usually keeps himself occupied with manual labor or chores when he should be resting.
Some of the complaints Caelus has never really aired: his shoulder's pretty sore from how often he's putting full force into his swings; his elbow is kind of inflamed from one time he landed on it a bit roughly after a Voidranger knocked him off his feet; Svarog twisted his wrist once and it never quite locked properly back into place. He has an odd sense of phantom pain from the time he took Cocolia's lance through the heart — his flesh was magically mended after attracting Qlipoth's gaze, but somehow it hasn't felt right since then. Other little aches and bruises. He's got a tension knot in his neck, too, but that's just because he tends to fall asleep on the flattest corner of his pillow. He probably needs to just ask Pom-Pom for fluffier pillows.
Luocha's hand hovers, but doesn't make contact. The golden cross sways like a pendulum, making Caelus feel oddly relaxed. Absently, he thinks that Luocha has a nice laugh, when it's not just kind of a hollow giggle. The Trailblazer tries to think of something funny to say, but can't really think of anything in particular.
[Caelus might not consider it sufficiently funny, and yet there's humor to be had anyhow from that question, in the way its deadpan delivery clashes against the mildly silly title applied. Not quite enough to invoke that same open laugh once more, no, but it does add a touch of amusement to the curve of Luocha's smile when he glances up. (The blush, the nerves under scrutiny...this is all taken note of, yes, much the same way the more blatant instance had been in the lobby. Still unaddressed just as politely, too. Will this be persisting for the entirety of this process, on Caelus's end of things? Goodness, one wonders...)]
Oh, this miracle doctor has plenty of recommendations to spare. Not sure any of them would be enough to overcome that reckless path of the Trailblazer, however. I have a feeling that "be less reckless" might be quite a tall order, for some reason...
[As he speaks, Luocha slowly stands upright once more, hand still extended.]
Still, so far as your myriad immediate aches and pains go--these I could remedy for now. Clear your slate, so to speak, before you fill it anew. Of course, this would mean applying my healing to parts of you beyond your leg, thereby changing the bounds of my initial offer. But if you'd still be receptive to...hm?
[The cross still flickers; gloved fingertips now hover a hair's breadth over Caelus's chest. Where his heart would be--and yes, ostensibly, where that Stellaron of his currently resides. But that's not exactly a novelty in itself at this point, for all that Luocha is still quite interested in investigating it further. No, what prompts a blink from him about now, his own words sidetracked as the odd reading comes to light, is...]
Well now. There was quite a grievous wound here. Yet, the patch that has closed it... [A slight, pensive frown.] ...This was not the work of the Abundance.
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trailblazers2023-12-03 11:23 am
@casketeer
Mm
Well, you know where to find us
But... hmm
I'd say you should come over, but I feel like your face makes Welt anxious...
And he was already stressed this morning, so I want to give him a break.
[ Uh, what happened there...? ]
So... opening Trailblazer Courier Services.
I'll deliver it to you, if your current location isn't a secret.
Where would you like to receive your midnight snack, sir?
thanks for moving us 💖
Ah, that feeling of yours isn't too far off the mark, it seems. On the few occasions I've visited the Express thus far, Mr. Yang certainly does seem to keep his distance quite consistently...I must apologize for the distress I seem to be causing him. I'd offer to try remedying this at some point, but I'm not yet quite sure how.
[
because lbr how does one even start addressing the Supremely Awkward vibes of having an evil self-help book emailed to youStress this morning, is that right...? One's almost tempted to ask, but for the moment Luocha refrains. Maybe a bit later, depending on how things shake out here...]My, "Trailblazer Courier Services" already sounds far more charming than the conventional cycranes, to be sure!
I am not being particularly secretive for the moment, though I appreciate the consideration towards such a possibility. [haha there's another personal in-joke somewhere here but anyway--] I'm still aboard the Luofu at present, in Starskiff Haven. Perhaps we could meet at the Petrichor Inn, if it truly wouldn't be too much trouble for you?
my hands look like this so my rp friends' look like this, etc
Everything is only ever a warp away.
[ That's true about a lot of things, in Caelus's world... but, after a slight pause, during which perhaps he packs that perfect sandwich into something more appropriate for Luocha to receive, he follows that up with a few more messages: ]
and I don't think you have to fix it
It's not like you can help your face
I'll be there in a few minutes
[ What if he's wrong, and Luocha is, in fact, some kind of shapeshifter? Caelus muses about it as he makes his way down to the Petrichor Inn, more for the silliness of it all than anything else: suppose the kindly merchant is, in fact, a devil in disguise, one that has purposefully taken on the face of one of Welt's old enemies to haunt him?
It's not something he's contemplating seriously so much as a stupid scenario in his mind he's conjured up because he thinks it's funny to imagine Luocha as a shapeshifter. Briefly, he considers what the merchant would look like with a dragon's head on his body in place of his usually flawless face. Caelus has no way of knowing what happened in Welt's life prior to his arrival on the Astral Express; he knows nothing of a boy named Joachim Nokianvirtanen or the desperate fool named Otto Apocalypse who was both beautiful in his tragedy and tragic in his lunacy. But Welt has a point, in that Luocha does have that kind of face, he muses: too handsome, too perfect. The face of the villain in every video game. The kind of face that exists to remind its audience that beauty has its dangers, and that those who have reached the boundaries of human perfection are very likely to no longer be human.
Anyway, Caelus is a tragic fool in his own way, and he knows it. The type of idiot who'd show up at ass o' clock in the evening just to deliver a snack to someone he can't even really consider a friend. The type of guy who'd do it just because and for no real reason, no expectation of a reward or compensation or anything — maybe 5 Stellar Jades and whatever change Luocha has rattling around in his pocket, at best.
Yeah. That'd be good. Not necessary, but that'd be good.
There's this way that Caelus usually has about him, a determined long-legged stride like that of a thoroughbred racehorse ignoring the cheers and jeers and desperate pleading of its audience to assume its place at the start of the track - today, though, there's something very slightly off about him. He's doing a decent enough job of hiding it, for someone unused to keeping secrets, but it's a very slight, very subtle limp.
As he strides into the lobby of the Petrichor Inn, he looks around. Luocha didn't give him a room number or anything, but he wasn't expecting anything like that, anyway. Maybe he's — ah, there. There's that blond head.
Caelus walks over, smoothly enough. Stops short in front of Luocha, then holds out a little lunchbox tied up in a white linen cloth. ]
Your sandwich, sir. [ A slight pause, and then he mock-bows, mostly to shift his weight onto his back leg instead. ] Correction — your perfect sandwich, sir.
[ His straight-faced silliness has a bit of a different atmosphere when there aren't cute Pom-pom stickers to accompany it. ]
no subject
An opportunity for what? Well...an opportunity to find out just what might transpire, perhaps, in the company of the Luofu's newest famed ally--outside the bounds of the Express, and any particularly pressing business obligations between either of them. Well, setting aside the business of the newest Trailblazer Courier Services, anyway...for loose definitions of the word...
Either way, the long and short of it is that there's time to spare before Luocha himself needs to proceed with certain affairs. He hasn't been asleep this night anyway. Might just forego it entirely, at this rate...and this little meeting surely might prove just a bit more interesting than idly wandering the slumbering streets of Starskiff Haven, in the interim.
He's been in the lobby for a few minutes before Caelus arrives, actually, though to be fair it's a seat a bit out of the way of the main entrance. Just him, at this hour, his customary coffin absent--even the receptionist usually manning the front desk is currently out on break. ...Luocha knows Caelus has arrived before he even steps through the doors; the thrum of a nearby Stellaron can be somewhat likened to a steady bass frequency heard by very few ears, except it is something more felt than heard. A second pulse that isn't your own. Thin and slow, fast asleep, still no greedy pang of hunger as yet. ...It's really quite impressive, how stable it rests within this vessel. Caelus doesn't seem to know...one wonders if any of the Nameless are actually aware, of the true extent of such a feat. It'll probably always be a fascinating bit of dichotomy to observe, the way this perfectly secured timebomb can roam about such locales as these with nearly all surrounding him none the wiser...
And that's not even yet touching upon the personality the timebomb's already formed for himself, now is it?
Still, Luocha at least has the courtesy to turn his head as if the exact timing of Caelus's arrival is an unanticipated thing anyhow. He stands, as he's approached, customary slight smile settling upon this too-perfect face of his: the kind of smile that's immaculately business pleasant, even in the face of the straight-faced silliness Caelus proceeds to beeline into. (The kind of smile that seemingly makes no note of that ever-so-slightly shortened stride, there...)]
It seems this really was only a warp away for you, wasn't it? That was about thirteen minutes, I'd say--quite impressive, for a first delivery. [The mock-bow is reciprocated with a gracious tip of his head that's a bit too well-executed to quite match the mock sentiment here. But maybe reciprocating just sort of adds to the irreverent energy afoot...and if Luocha's glance lingers down at that shifted leg for just a moment, well--oh, or maybe he was actually just eyeing the offered lunchbox, before reaching to accept it? That's what he's doing about now, anyway.] My thanks to you, for this gift. Something so perfect must still be rather difficult to part with. Hmm, I suppose I ought to at least compensate you for your time...
[But even as he's reaching into an inner pocket of his coat with his free hand, Luocha continues on, with a well-measured lilt of simple idle curiosity:] But I do also have a question for you now...if you'd be receptive to humoring me, before you rush off to your other deliveries?
no subject
Ultimately, he came to the conclusion that it all really doesn't matter very much.
Screw it. If he dies, he dies.
That's really the only way to solve philosophical questions, sometimes — and that's why, as he slowly draws himself back to a normal standing position, weight still firmly planted on only one leg, Caelus looks Luocha in the eyes and answers calmly, with no fear of artifice or ensnarement: ]
Sure. What's the question?
[ He hears nothing but the sound of his own breathing; he can usually only hear the thrum of the Stellaron inside of him late at night, before he falls asleep. The evening seems deliciously quiet, and no one else is around. Abstractly, and partly as a joke, Caelus wonders if Luocha has murdered the Inn's customary receptionist. ]
no subject
Hm...would you find more use for strales or credits, at present? Perhaps both?
[.........Wait, was that the actual question, or--]
no subject
...Whatever you see fit to give? The sandwich was free.
[ He takes another moment to consider it, tipping his head to one side as he touches his hand to his chin. Then, with a sort of healthy avarice, he adds: ]
Both. Both would be good.
no subject
Well, if you do consider this a gift freely given, I'd at least like to thank you for the generosity. Consider this a gift for a gift...I've always had a habit for mutual exchange, you see. After all, as it is said, that which is seized must be repaid... [There's something almost automatic about the way he murmurs that last bit, rather the same way one might recite a quote or a snippet of a song they've long memorized by heart. The shift comes and goes, no longer than a moment,] --Besides, it does occur to me that I'll not have much use for strales myself before long. So, I may as well pass the majority of the change I have left to you, where they'll still find good use.
[The lunchbox with its linen cloth wrap is placed down onto the chair behind him. Then, a seeming warm note settling upon his smile, Luocha offers the decent handful of change consisting of credits and strales combined to Caelus. It's...definitely more than even the most artisanal peanut butter and jelly sandwich would possibly be worth to buy from any given food vendor--but look, don't worry about it? Level up a trace or two, buy some more eidolons from that one pawn shop. It's his treat!
Should Caelus offer a hand to accept this exchange, Luocha will place the money into his palm with...both hands, one closing over top, one clasping underneath. Which may result in Caelus's hand being effectively trapped, in this fashion.
So he can't start walking away just yet, or anything like that, before Luocha's done pleasantly adding:] Oh, but I do have one other question! I just can't help but wonder...how exactly are you planning to properly launch this courier business of yours, with your leg in a state like that?
no subject
That's — more than...
[ Then Luocha's other hand closes over his, and Caelus jolts out of his reverie, and thinks, Oh. Maybe I shouldn't have come after all.
It's a bizarre thing to think, because — as he settles into this new situation, assessing it gingerly, his hand clasped in Luocha's — there's nothing very wrong about this, really. There's no danger being posed to him. Despite Welt's odd hangups about men who look like this man, there is past documentation that Luocha is a sort of bizarre do-gooder, and logically, he has done nothing wrong.
It's just, Caelus thinks, as he again looks into Luocha's smiling eyes and finds nothing there to doubt, there's something so strange about how he set this up like a trap.
He doesn't move his hand out of the hand sandwich. The handwich. Bereft of other things to do, the young man curls his fingers a little to keep the strales in place — but now this makes it seem like he and Luocha are holding hands. In the handwich. He grimaces. It might be about their hands, but maybe it's just because he's been reminded about his leg. ]
...Oh. It's not that bad. I forgot about it until now, actually.
[ There's no particular reason to keep information from Luocha, and the obvious next question is how he injured himself, so Caelus surrenders the answer without further prompting. ]
March tripped down the stairs this morning, and she was really embarrassed about it. So I also tripped down the stairs. To support her.
[ This is delivered very flatly and earnestly, as if it was a perfectly logical thing to do. ]
Landed a bit harder than she did, though. I guess I'm heavy? [ A soft scoff under his breath: a barely concealed laugh. ] And Welt was, uh... concerned.
[ Hence the stress, presumably.
Caelus's lips twitch; he seems more than aware the whole thing is absurd, and he offers the story to Luocha like an apology. It's fine. There's nothing wrong. ]
no subject
But "trapping" still...sure is the word for it, at the end of the day. Isn't it? Even if there doesn't seem to be any ill intent behind it in the least. Even if, to a passing outside eye, this probably still looks like a perfectly friendly
or even uuh rather intimately handwichingexchange. Yes, the fact remains, that Luocha didn't exactly have to go about asking his question quite like this...but it's something of a running theme of how he operates, as Caelus now happens to be discovering firsthand. Did he have to take care of the spoilered book in that bookshop like that? Did he have to rescue those two guys and leave a fancy origami flower behind like that?(Did he have to get himself arrested on a particular future occasion quite like that--?)The answer, as far as he's concerned, is yes. Yes, he needs to do those things like that. When you find a method that works, you tend to start applying it to just about everything....]
My, my...I suppose it really is true, that good friends will often go to embarrassing lengths to support each other. Hah, even if it sounds as if you've taken that philosophy perhaps a bit too literally. But I can only assume Miss March must have been quite grateful.
[Hmm, it probably already says something about the initial impression Caelus has formed upon Luocha so far, that he's honestly not entirely sure whether the Trailblazer's lying about having tripped on accident too or genuinely did think an intentionally mutual tripping would help things...
Ah well. Same result either way. Caelus curls his fingers to keep the money from falling out, and Luocha's very helpfully curling his fingers in turn. To also secure the money, of course. And if that makes the handwich even more of a strangely intimate hand-holding than it already is, then well, sometimes things just turn out this way!
Luocha will let go eventually, not to worry.
(.......Besides, it's not to say this hasn't resulted in something unexpected on Luocha's end of things too. It genuinely hadn't been part of the idea, in anchoring Caelus by this particular way, but it's a side-effect that's now happening regardless: the fact that this closer proximity, and physical contact, is now sending an even clearer feedback of the Stellaron currently residing in the young man's body. Which is...an interesting discovery, to be sure. Hm. For once, Luocha finds himself rather grateful for his preference towards wearing gloves. ...Now is not the time to investigate this--)]
All the same, this being the source of Mr. Yang's stress isn't so surprising. But you mentioned he's been distressed since this morning...so that was when the tripping event occurred, hm? It has been some time since then. [Luocha peers speculatively at Caelus's features--perhaps searching for any telltale signs of a pained grimace being held back, or anything along those lines--before his glance drops down to the favored leg. He tilts his head.] ...Does the Express does not have any designated healer among its crew?
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The issue with this first impression he offers people is that his amber gaze is entirely too analytical when he stares at his surroundings as the others are talking, and sometimes, when he pulls Welt Yang aside to discuss the intricacies of their political situation, Caelus's observations are even more incisive than those conjured up by Dan Heng.
You're always pretending to be quiet, March grumbled to him once, with peevish, sisterly exasperation. It says a lot that even she's aware that he's mostly pretending to be a lot of things.
That being said, he's not in control. Caelus is a lot of things, but he's rarely, if ever, in control.
Case in point: the imperceptible bass pulse of the Stellaron is stuttering. It wouldn't be an issue for anyone else, but Luocha has enough experience with Stellarons to detect and track the one inside of Caelus. It's — what is it doing? Stumbling. Skipping. Like a racing heart.
(The fact that it is in sync with Caelus's heartbeat is objectively fascinating. Mostly because: it shouldn't be. The Stellaron ought to be a separate entity, its own lifeform, clawing to get out. It should find the ebbs and flows of his body stifling, exhausting; it should long to conquer more. But the one inside of Caelus has apparently acclimated to its environment, calm and settled, as though it's always belonged there. Less a cancer and more like... co-evolution?)
Caelus can't hear anything but the pounding of his own pulse in his ears. There's nothing on the Trailblazer's face that suggests he is flustered. Maybe a dusting of pink on his cheeks — or maybe that's just the lantern lights. His expression is as neutral as always. It's not as though he's some pining schoolboy. It's just. This is embarrassing. They're holding hands in a handwich and Luocha's flawless face is looking at him much too intently, and he's really not used to being the subject of undivided personal attention. ]
Nah. We don't have one. [ He can't hold the merchant's gaze any longer. Awkwardly, Caelus stares at a middle point over the man's shoulder instead, feeling too conscious of the drape of his blond hair. ] March can use her ice to make shields or hold wounds together for a minute, but no one can really... heal.
[ What is he doing. What are they doing. What if Mr. Yang came by to be like "Sorry to interrupt... whatever is going on here." That would be nice. Where is he. On reflex, Caelus brushes his thumb over Luocha's knuckles and blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind: ]
Your gloves are really soft.
[ Caelus thinks he finally understands the phrase buttery-soft leather, and resolves to keep his mind locked on that for at least the next thirty seconds. ]
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Remarkable. Unheard of. They've outdone themselves with this vessel, really...and the chances of this being an accidental phenomenon are vanishingly small. A Stellaron melded perfectly with a personably human will--why, there are truly countless applications that could come of that, now aren't there? ...Luocha's interest had been piqued ever since their first in-person encounter upon the Express, honestly, but now...oh, this may have been a bit of a mistake. Making contact quite like this. The urge to test the exact bounds of this particular Stellaron, as one might pluck at a new instrument to examine the unique flavor of its tune, emerges unbidden and terribly curious--
But now is not the time to investigate this.
...The thumb that brushes over his knuckles tells as much. An unexpected reciprocation--probably something of a nervous reflex in itself, really, to judge by Caelus's overall reaction here both internal and external--and all those diverted thoughts are promptly stilled. They might have had a part, admittedly, in the intensity of Luocha's scrutiny...but now he blinks, at that last remark there. A slight deviation from the careful set of his own expression if only for the surprise of it...before a flicker of amusement fills the gap promptly enough.]
...Yes, they're quite nice, aren't they? I have always been rather partial to this pair for that reason...but, for that matter...
[The curl of his own fingers finally loosens; if Caelus would be so kind as to permit it, Luocha's releasing his hand at last. The money's even left in his palm! Probably the ideal outcome here. (Welt might not have been around to break up the moment in the end, but no doubt his Otto Nonsense Radar is probably tingling with unbidden foreboding somewhere on the Express about now--)]
My apologies. Perhaps that was a bit forward of me... [You know, to judge by Caelus's reaction, even if it was a mostly lack thereof externally. Internally, though, what else could the falter in that pulse have meant? ...The feedback quiets, now that they're apart again, moreso as Luocha draws a pace back. This is equal parts a relief and a mild disappointment, and we are only going to examine the implications of those parts at a later date.] I am aware this is objectively none of my business, really, and if you don't consider it much of a problem then your judgment ought to be respected. However, as a healer myself, I must admit that I always find it a bit difficult to leave the injuries of others unattended...
[The Nameless of the Express really ought to look into that shortcoming in their roster, some absentminded part of Luocha's thoughts is musing. From a tactical standpoint it's quite surprising, actually, that they've no prompt medical measures at all for such incidents as this...considering the ventures they've gotten up to of late...ah, but the word is that their numbers are quite diminished and scattered these days. The fact that the Express travels once more at all is recent and rather surprising news. The motley gathering is still a work in progress? It ought to be interesting to see how things turn out there, in due time...but anyway.]
My own methods are not at all time-consuming, and it would be of no particular cost to me. So, if I were to offer...would you be receptive to having that mended, sir?
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Luocha withdraws. Caelus's tension leaves him in the same instant. The Trailblazer's shoulders slope lower as the merchant pulls back, and while he doesn't go as far as heaving a sigh, the rapid-fire pounding of his heart soon begins to slow, propelling the erratic vibrations of the Stellaron back towards something resembling normalcy.
Silently, he takes a deep breath as he draws his own hand back to his side, then stows the money in his pocket, slow and careful, without sudden movements. He is thinking very resolutely about how smooth and delicate the leather of Luocha's gloves was, and by focusing entirely on that one thing, he can stop himself from thinking about anything else.
Too dangerous to let his mind wander. Too dangerous to do a lot of things.
Right. Anyway. The leg. It's very quick, but Caelus actually grimaces thinking about it, passing a hand over his face to hide the change in his expression. He tests his weight on his injured leg; it's still uncomfortable, sending a shock of pain from injured tissues through his system. Hm. He lowers his arm back to his side. ]
I'd owe you one if you fixed it... It's in a weird spot, though. I landed on my hip.
[ More to satisfy his own curiosity than to show Luocha specifically, Caelus tugs a little at the hem of his shirt with the tips of his fingers, looking down at the sliver of skin this reveals. No one else is around, so he's not really concerned about modesty, and, really, he wouldn't be that concerned about it even if they were surrounded by a gaggle of gossiping Foxian ladies. Past the line of his hipbone, there's a bright red bruise peeking out from the waistband of his pants along the side of his leg where he must have landed. Not so bad-looking now, no, but it's mottled enough that it'll look positively awful when it turns blue-black by tomorrow.
Caelus's eyelids lower to half-mast, making him look a little sleepy. He's not really thinking about anything at all. Just leather, and the way that, to some degree, he's conflating his trust in Natasha to that of healers in general. ]
...I guess you don't have to be able to see it? I don't know how your powers work.
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--The result is apparently less than pleasant, if that actual grimace is anything to go by. Luocha's eyes follow his line of sight to the hem of his shirt as the latter tugs it up a bit without much further fanfare, narrowly revealing the splotch of crimson bruising that's bloomed across the pale skin there. Which is...well, that sure is a thing to be doing, out in the middle of an inn's lobby. There's something equally strange and amusing about how Caelus can make a little display like this without so much as a hint of hesitance or shame, when the fairly innocent handwich of a mere minute earlier had done such a number on his internal composure. Ah, not that this isn't clearly an innocent sort of gesture in its own way--it's obvious, of course, that Caelus is simply checking on the wound for himself. But it's just, you know...
It's not even that Luocha is a sort of person particularly prone to shame in the conventional sense himself, actually, despite his preferred habit of primly composed collection in all that he does. However, at least of late, he has been maintaining a very specific sort of image for the passing eye over the course of his stint upon the Luofu...for various reasons....and while hanging about in relative public with a young man fiddling at his clothing in the dead of night maybe isn't the most scandalous thing in the world, the fact remains. The lobby receptionist actually is still alive and not-murdered somewhere in this building, after all, and they're going to be returning from break sooner rather than later. To say nothing of the non-zero chance that a particularly late traveler seeking a night's sleep might yet still pass through the entrance at any given moment.
So, in short. Even if Caelus will likely be dropping his shirt back down soon enough, and even if it is technically true that Luocha's healing isn't particularly hindered by material in the way...this probably still isn't the place for this, now is it?]
Hmm. It is still more accessible than some other wounds I've encountered, in my time. It's indeed unnecessary for me to see the full extent of it, either, as this can be a sort of thing more felt out than observed. However...
[Luocha turns away, to retrieve the sandwich package that's been sitting patiently upon the chair behind him this whole time. Then he turns back towards Caelus, and beckons to him, before starting a step or two towards a hall off to the side of the lobby.]
Let's not have an entire consultation out here, hm? If you think you could manage just a bit more of a walk...quite fortunately for us, my current quarters here are located on the first floor, only a few doors down this way. Follow me.
[His tone is as amiably pleasant as ever, so technically the flexibility probably still exists, but. Luocha sure didn't actually leave any room for protest about this, did he......]
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Caelus is aware of this, really, but he dismisses the possibility because — on some level, though he's confident enough about his looks, in a way where no one could ever believe his confidence in itself isn't a joke — it has just never really occurred to him that he might ever be seen as an object which might elicit desire.
It'd be a more serious threat, he figures, if he were Dan Heng. Wherever they go, there's always someone thirsting over Dan Heng.
Anyway — it'd be great if Luocha could heal him. He does have some other miscellaneous aches and pains in different places, and he could probably use a complete physical, all things considered. There wasn't really time, back in Belobog, and Bailu sort of offered, once, but she implied that she charges a lot of money to do that kind of thing, and most of Caelus's credits and strales get spent on his friends. Besides, he's well aware that Luocha wasn't about to kiss him or anything like that, a few minutes ago, despite his wildly racing heart. There's a part of him that can't explain how nervous he got, even to himself; it's not even as though the prospect of holding Luocha's hand again makes him giddy, or anything like that. Caelus is pretty sure that, if the merchant gets kind of touchy again, he'll probably be pretty normal about it.
It's just — something about being seen. He's not used to being seen.
(So much easier to hide behind March's exuberance, or Dan Heng's aura of mystery, or Welt's competence, or Himeko's grace. As long as he's the funny one, he doesn't have to be seen.) ]
Sure. Lead the way.
[ It doesn't occur to Caelus, really, that Luocha didn't leave him room to refuse. After all, the flip side of this is: why would he refuse? He chose to come out here tonight; he doesn't have anything better to do. It beats drinking by himself, unable to sleep. ]
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Which. Yeah speaking of Incidents That Might Prompt The Realm-Keeping Commission To Conduct A Thorough Investigation Of Luocha's Haunts Later............this sure is going to be footage that's. Fairly compromising out of context indeed. To say the least. ...But, well, it'll be a comparative drop in the bucket next to the magnitude of the rest of Luocha's rapsheet by then...and even if the Xianzhou had policies of reprimand where solicitation might be concerned, would they hazard to bring that up against Caelus by that time? An honored guest of General Jing Yuan, who provided a sizeable helping hand in subduing an emerging Lord Ravager upon the Luofu? To say nothing of how the Astral Express crew will likely be long gone to other affairs in Penacony by then...
How very fortunate that they're both going to be diverting enough to Luofu authorities, in vastly different ways, that this little exchange here's likely to be tucked delicately under the rug. And so the actual ridiculous truth of the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a leg injury from a moderately stupid accident earlier in the day, will never truly come to light either--]
Here, after you. Have a seat if you'd like, while I put this away...
[As promised, the walk to Luocha's room is a fairly short one down the hall, and on the other side of the door...is a very nice room, to be sure. One of the suites, as it turns out, the kind with separated spaces for a kitchenette and a small living space and such. Perhaps a bit oddly, though, despite the fact that Luocha has spent a moderate amount of time aboard the Luofu by now...it's immaculately clean and neat all throughout the space, to the point that it barely looks as if anyone has been living there for any stretch of time at all. ...Though it does smell rather pleasantly like some sort of flower in here?
And, of course, there sure is the full-sized elaborate coffin propped up against a wall in the sitting space by the nearest window. Very normal hotel luggage thing....!
Luocha has briefly trailed off to the kitchenette to drop off the sandwich. Will Caelus have a seat as offered?]
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Luocha's quarters are lovely. Somehow, Caelus didn't expect otherwise. Though he's only met the man on a handful of prior occasions, and has never quite gotten the picture of what, exactly, the man sells, the merchant certainly seems prosperous enough, and can rattle off a number of convincing deals and meetings on his schedule at any hour of the day. The fact that the suite doesn't seem lived-in doesn't occur to him as a point of suspicion; after all, maybe housekeeping came through earlier in the day and cleaned everything up, and Luocha could just be the sort of businessman who doesn't really trouble himself with luxuriating in a hotel's amenities.
Though... would the man really let the inn's cleaning crew near that coffin of his?
Caelus does not take a seat. Luocha left it open to an if you'd like, after all, and the Trailblazer can't really decide which of the several chairs he should take a seat in. Anyway, he's been on his leg all day; pain in itself doesn't really bother him, and he figures he may as well remain in discomfort for a little longer.
The Stellaron inside of Caelus has slowed to its usual dull pace. In fact, there's a new low hum to it — it seems pleased. Caelus himself feels excellently relaxed. It's always soothing to walk into a comfortable room, and it does smell very nice in Luocha's suite — sweet in a way that reminds Caelus of white flowers, like lily or jasmine or honeysuckle. He can't pinpoint the exact species. Vaguely, the Trailblazer remembers detecting a hint of this scent on Luocha himself, earlier.
The fragrance, though... is it coming from the coffin? ]
...
[ Despite all outward pretensions, Caelus is not really that stupid. He has never been in the presence of Luocha's coffin before this, but he knows of it from the general summary of Dan Heng's adventures on the Luofu. The thing inside of it should be "a person," but standing in front of it now, he's almost certain that there's something inside...
He stares at it for a moment.
Then he reaches out with one hand, intent on grazing his knuckles rather gently against the coffin's surface. Perhaps the entity inside of it is asleep, but he doesn't mean it any harm — maybe he just means to say hi...? ]
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The entity in the coffin has been asleep until this moment. But now, as it's approached...something does seem to stir within, imperceptibly; this is very much an impression felt, for the coffin in itself is physically entirely inert. Maybe it's in response to the separate power that's now drawing near, regardless of whether or not Caelus is actively exerting it. There may not be any eyes to do it, but at least ever so briefly, there is a distinct impression that he is being perceived. And...well...just before those knuckles make contact with the lid...
Has Caelus ever had six knives aimed at the back of his head before?
It might just feel something like this--]
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[It's not so sharp as to be a reprimand, not exactly. But there's just enough of an abrupt edge to Luocha's voice that it still marks a shift from his more favored pleasantry. He's paused in the doorway to the living space, returning from the kitchenette, his glance appraising between Caelus and the coffin--expression still fairly genial, but eyebrows slightly arched.
...Less sharp, the edge promptly dulled with a mild humor as Luocha moves further into the room:] I see you're in the habit of investigating just about anything in a new space, now aren't you?
[Luocha's eyes are still trained on where that hand had been extended to the coffin--or is it now withdrawn?]
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He doesn't get to touch the coffin. He can't honestly tell whether or not it was the sudden edge in Luocha's voice that stopped him, or the sudden, overwhelming feeling that he was being threatened. And the threat — was it coming from Luocha himself, or the thing inside the coffin?
The funny thing is that the Trailblazer isn't really that off-put. He doesn't feel particularly chastised, either, not by Luocha, or his own instincts. It's just kind of what he was expecting, that's all: he tried to pet a cat, and the cat hissed. If it bit or scratched him, well, that would have been just its nature, and he the erstwhile fool who tried to test its boundaries.
What Caelus doesn't like is this: that feeling from the coffin reminds him of the time that Nanook killed him on sight in Herta's Simulated Universe.
It was the exact same feeling. ]
...Sorry. It's not polite to touch someone's things without asking.
[ He's self-aware, at least. Calmly, Caelus lowers his hand back to his side, stepping back from the coffin, and then meets Luocha's gaze, something suitably apologetic in his soft golden gaze. Whether or not his contriteness is genuine is up for debate. Whether or not he is absolved of sin is for to Luocha to decide. ]
I was just thinking that it looks like you.
[ ...Well, it... does, in a way... yes... ]
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Luocha's approach draws to a halt at a point where he ends up standing...well, a bit closer to the coffin than to Caelus. Though eye contact is held a moment, the latter young man's contrition in spoken word and leveled glance duly noted, whether genuine or not. A wry smile settles upon Luocha's features.]
No, it is not particularly polite, I'd agree.
[There's no bite to the acknowledgment; the slight edge of earlier has passed entirely from his tone, now that Caelus has stepped back from the coffin. ...Hmm. Honestly, considering the small series of events that has led up to this, Luocha honestly can't even entirely fault Caelus for the temptation...because leaving the young man alone even briefly in the same room as such a distinct object was probably bound to yield a result along these lines. It's just, there is a certain sort of impression that most any coffin will give off, after all, that tends to demand at least a bit more delicacy from most people. (Key word most.) The implied purpose of a coffin is usually sufficient enough to repel too-touchy inquiry all on its own...
But the Trailblazer evidently doesn't quite have such qualms. ...Can he tell there's something more than a deceased body there? One wonders...]
Still, a strong sense of curiosity is often at odds with politeness. Doubtless it's served you well enough in the past, but--hm? [It looks like--? The observation almost startles out a laugh, bluntly as it's put forth. Luocha glances to the coffin again, shifting over to lightly wrap a hand around one of its side handles. (There is another slight stir from within, not as vehement as moments earlier. Like a faint impression of a sigh of breath, though whether it's relieved or unhappy or some other sentiment is impossible to say.)] Well...I suppose you're not wrong, that my preferred dress rather matches it. We do hail from the same homeland, after all. Or do you mean to say that I carry rather coffin-like qualities of my own?
[Whatever that would even mean.....but, amusement lilting his tone, it seems Luocha at least isn't taking offense to the idea. He looks to Caelus once more.]
Either way. I'd not mind moving this article somewhere else, if you think you might find its presence too distracting while I check on your injury...
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It's beautiful. You're beautiful, too.
[ ...
One would be forgiven for thinking that perhaps he has been infected with nonsense by a certain Knight of Beauty, but no. Argenti had nothing to do with this. This is a Caelus original.
Anyway — Luocha's following statements indirectly confirm that he intends to examine Caelus here, in this particular sitting area, so the young man sinks into a nearby armchair. It's the sort with a decorative cushion, one which Luocha has likely never so much as disturbed; the Trailblazer, however, has no qualms about taking it into his arms, one hand giving it a good squeeze to test its squishiness. He sits with his spine flush against the back of the chair, long legs askew and bent at the knees, arms resting on the cushion in his lap. Quite comfortable, for a guy who just dodged murderous intent via Death Thorns. ]
You can leave it where it is. If it doesn't want to be disturbed, I won't bother it again.
[ If it doesn't want to be disturbed is, probably, the closest confirmation Luocha will get to the idea that perhaps Caelus is perfectly aware that the thing inside of the coffin is not merely a dead body. But, true to his word, the Trailblazer isn't so much as looking at it anymore. ]
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Luocha does laugh this time. It's a brief thing, but actually genuine for once, distinctly as it contrasts to the odd polite chuckle here and there on past occasions.]
My, you should be a little more careful about telling people such flattering things, sir. You're going to make me blush, and that would be quite embarrassing... [He's not blushing even a little bit, it should be said. He might look away, but it's more sidelong to the coffin again anyhow, and as his mirth settles his tone is placid once more.] ...Still, you're not wrong. It is very beautiful, isn't it?
[There's a certain almost imperceptible reverence, in his slow release of the coffin's side handle, before he steps away from it once more.]
...If it truly doesn't bother you, then very well. Your discretion where it's concerned would be appreciated.
[Most people also do not speak of coffins as sentient things in their own right. So Caelus has noticed...something, at the least--another fascinating mental note to take down. To what extent? Another question ill-fit for this occasion, but it's surely filed away too. Caelus emphasizes his apparent ease with the current room and All its inhabitants by finally sitting down and getting himself very comfortable in that chair (which has definitely gone untouched for the entirety of Luocha's stay until just now); Luocha drifts over to stand in front of him in turn, now, and reaches for his own left wrist, slowly tugging free the chain of his gold charm where it's customarily wrapped about his palm under his sleeve.
Without further pretense, he kneels down gracefully next to the leg that's been ailing Caelus, left hand extending over his thigh but not quite touching it. The charm flickers where it hangs; for Caelus, there is perhaps a very faint sensation of an invisible warm flame being held close; the scent of white flowers, which had seemed to indeed source most strongly from the coffin earlier, take on a freshly renewed note in the air between them. Luocha hums thoughtfully.]
...Several muscles pulled after all, yes. Nothing major, at the least. Though, hm... [His hand drifts up further, still not touching, though it curves over the empty air at Caelus's side.] While it might be your most painful ailment, this isn't your only one, is it? Perhaps not wounds, and perhaps still nothing particularly severe, yet still...conducting yourself a bit recklessly of late, are you?
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...The path of the Trailblazer is a pretty reckless one by definition, I guess.
[ Now that Caelus stops to think about it, he's basically been fighting ever since he woke up on Herta's Space Station. There's been time to rest between expeditions, but never for very long, and he usually keeps himself occupied with manual labor or chores when he should be resting.
Some of the complaints Caelus has never really aired: his shoulder's pretty sore from how often he's putting full force into his swings; his elbow is kind of inflamed from one time he landed on it a bit roughly after a Voidranger knocked him off his feet; Svarog twisted his wrist once and it never quite locked properly back into place. He has an odd sense of phantom pain from the time he took Cocolia's lance through the heart — his flesh was magically mended after attracting Qlipoth's gaze, but somehow it hasn't felt right since then. Other little aches and bruises. He's got a tension knot in his neck, too, but that's just because he tends to fall asleep on the flattest corner of his pillow. He probably needs to just ask Pom-Pom for fluffier pillows.
Luocha's hand hovers, but doesn't make contact. The golden cross sways like a pendulum, making Caelus feel oddly relaxed. Absently, he thinks that Luocha has a nice laugh, when it's not just kind of a hollow giggle. The Trailblazer tries to think of something funny to say, but can't really think of anything in particular.
He sighs, deadpan: ]
Any recommendations, O miracle doctor?
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Oh, this miracle doctor has plenty of recommendations to spare. Not sure any of them would be enough to overcome that reckless path of the Trailblazer, however. I have a feeling that "be less reckless" might be quite a tall order, for some reason...
[As he speaks, Luocha slowly stands upright once more, hand still extended.]
Still, so far as your myriad immediate aches and pains go--these I could remedy for now. Clear your slate, so to speak, before you fill it anew. Of course, this would mean applying my healing to parts of you beyond your leg, thereby changing the bounds of my initial offer. But if you'd still be receptive to...hm?
[The cross still flickers; gloved fingertips now hover a hair's breadth over Caelus's chest. Where his heart would be--and yes, ostensibly, where that Stellaron of his currently resides. But that's not exactly a novelty in itself at this point, for all that Luocha is still quite interested in investigating it further. No, what prompts a blink from him about now, his own words sidetracked as the odd reading comes to light, is...]
Well now. There was quite a grievous wound here. Yet, the patch that has closed it... [A slight, pensive frown.] ...This was not the work of the Abundance.
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luocha asmr...........im dying. lbr it would def be too popular tho--
i don't want to admit what's in my search history now...
grips your shoulder....make that both our search histories tbf,
somehow easy to imagine him with a fluffy brush and a microphone
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