[ (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.
Oh. [ Caelus blinks, sighs, adjusts his legs. ] The Preservation did that. I saw them after I was stabbed.
[ He says this very neutrally, like it's only normal for that sort of thing to happen sometimes.
He wants to touch his chest in remembrance, but Luocha's hand is in the way, so the Trailblazer settles for closing his eyes to contemplate everything instead. The lance, the snow, the desperate stand. What he promised the will of the Guardians. Maybe Alisa Rand was in the end only another mournful little girl in a series of mournful little girls driven to insanity by the thought of a dying world. Endurance is like that, Caelus thinks abstractly; it will drive you to madness. But even so. Never waver.
The gaze of the Amber Lord seared itself into his flesh. Maybe he has only deluded himself into thinking that it felt like approval. ]
...I thought I understood... what they would have wanted.
[ This last remark seems meant more for himself than for Luocha — but, after a moment, he wakes himself from his own reverie, golden eyes blinking at the "miracle doctor" with sudden catlike alertness. ]
So — if I say that I'd like a clean slate, what will your new offer cost me?
[ For all that the Trailblazer has bumbled into this, guileless and impulsive and seemingly thinking nothing at all, he has in fact not forgotten that Luocha is supposed to be a merchant. At some point, he figures, he will probably have to pay a price. ]
[The Preservation did that, says Caelus. I saw them after I was stabbed. As if drawing the gaze of an Aeon had been simply one of those mildly rare occurrences that one would remark upon in passing. On par with having a bird land in the palm of your hand, or glimpsing a shooting star in a night sky.
Studying the neutral set of Caelus's features in delivering this news for a long moment, Luocha supposes that perhaps it would indeed seem like such a typical thing. To a person for whom, most likely, life events in general are few but densely steeped in strangeness.]
My, is that so? I see...
[As if there aren't countless people in this universe who would spend their whole lives burning themselves to ashes for the mere illusion of any Aeon's split-second attention. As if the reversal of a mortal wound on behalf of the Preservation wouldn't be considered by some cultures to be an ultimate favor of the Amber Lord, the height of divine providence. ...Still, though the memory does seem to set a pensiveness of some reflection upon Caelus in recalling it, he doesn't address it with overt gravity...and so Luocha opts not to either. Merely this politely intrigued acknowledgment, with slightly arched eyebrows to accompany it...before Luocha's hand is drawn back, health assessment finished, and he moves on from there.
--Well. Almost, moves on,]
Naturally, it would be difficult to determine the true intent behind such an encounter. There are scholars in this world who spend all their days attempting to understand the wants of Aeons, only to find themselves no closer to the truth in the end. But there is no hole in your heart at present, and you breathe among the living still, and this is a result that cannot be argued. Does the reasoning matter so much in the end?
[He knows, of course, that he's responding to a remark that wasn't even directly meant for him. Perhaps it's just...the topic of Aeons always tends to draw something out, like this. It's something about the flat set of Luocha's words, the certainty in that last question, as if it isn't particularly rhetorical in his own opinion.
(To him, the reasoning doesn't matter at all. Not when it's barely human anymore. Not when the end result doesn't change anyhow, regardless of the answer. When all you can do is try to move forward with the fickle cards they've now dealt you. Because you have to. Because there's no choice. As it always is, in matters of Aeons--)
But anyhow. Yes, now they're moving on. It's an almost palpable shift right back, from that brief lapsing pause to something more cordially amiable once more. To business, and all that.]
Hmm, but let's see...for a clean slate of health...well, I hardly think this a sort of thing that would demand a monetary charge. If you'd consider it a favor from me...then perhaps, I could ask a favor from you in return?
[ Was it like that, really? A divine favor? Sometimes Caelus has his doubts. On the one hand, he is not unaware that he has a special existence in this world — that he was chosen to walk a path prescribed to him by the seer the Stellaron Hunters call Elio. On the other hand, the Aeons are at times so inscrutable and unknowable that Qlipoth's intervention could have merely been an exercise in their own inflexible impulse to build.
Saving his life may have really been nothing more than a coincidence. Maybe Caelus attracted the Amber Lord's gaze, and then they saw a hole, and they fixed it. Because they must build. They must fix. They must endure.
(There's another thought that plagues him, sometimes — one that he's never brought up with anyone else, not even Herta, who would be most curious. Maybe the Preservation, in their wordless actions, meant to say: Rise, Akivili, my old friend. Today, as yesterday, your time is not yet come.)
Anyway. At the mention of a favor, Caelus visibly perks up. The Trailblazer is not really like a cat in the ways that matter, but one cannot help but get the feeling, despite his mostly-expressionless mien, that if he had a pair of animal ears (canine or feline or perhaps merely procyonine... well, raccoonish) they would be fully pointed upwards in eager anticipation. His eyes are now wide and awake. There's a liiittle tiny bit of a smile on his face.
Sidequest? Sidequest? He loves sidequests. ]
Of course. What's the favor?
[ (Does he sense that odd atmosphere that sets in when Luocha talks about Aeons? Maybe. But, ostensibly — that's not for him to engage with. At least, not right now.) ]
[There are times and places for proper Aeon discourse, probably...and now is not one of them, not really. In this, at least, they both seem to come to a mutual and unspoken understanding; Caelus pursues the topic no further, and Luocha doesn't either. Not when favors are rules of magnitude easier to navigate. Yes, sidequests, those busy things that make the world go round...
And oh, how promptly the young man perks up, at the mere hint of the prospect. Quite easy to see how the Nameless have developed such a favored reputation aboard the Luofu already, Luocha thinks, when they have someone among their number who draws such evident happiness at the simple idea of doing something for someone. No doubt this one's been running errands for all sorts of people here ever since they arrived, hm? ...This, too, is oddly endearing to learn. Maybe a little too much. --Surely he wouldn't agree to just about anything? One hopes he's at least a little discerning, about the favors he takes up? This sort of thing...really could be a little too easy to get taken advantage of...
Not that Luocha would try, of course. Not...at the moment, anyhow, so early on as things are, so briefly as they've known each other. No, to call it a 'temptation' is too strong a word, but there is an ever so quiet thing shaped somewhat like an intrusive thought, in the back of his head, that observes Caelus's eager anticipation and wants to test just how pliant it might be. How about this, for a favor: would you let me open you up, reach in you, and touch that reticent flame in your core? Just a moment, just for a look. Just to see what work has been done. Just to see what the Preservation saw. It's curious, it's just so very curious. The longer this interaction goes on, the more intriguing Caelus becomes, little hints of such remarkable aspects tucked close underneath such an unassuming and irreverent surface. ...But Luocha has not come this far in his life by being an impatient person. To try prizing apart that surface so bluntly now would be crass, besides. Unbecoming.
And in being close enough to administer healing, he'll have a chance for a fairly close look anyhow...]
It would be nothing much, of course, ideally something that won't be too inconvenient for you... [This is what comes out aloud, the pause before it near imperceptible, and the mild set of Luocha expression hinting nothing at the decidedly Less Mild internal demons currently being smoothed back down.] But it does occur to me that you'd be in an ideal position for this, as one of the ever-transient Nameless.
May I ask, what stop was next scheduled for the Astral Express, before you were all sidelined by the plight of the Luofu? If I recall, the nearest locale of prominent note in this corner of the galaxy would be Penacony...would I be correct, to assume you were heading there?
[ Luocha is correct not to play his hand at this time. For all that Caelus seems to bumble through life agreeing to everything, he is a little more sensitive to scheming and manipulation than most might think, and even he would have to refuse if for any reason he caught even a hint of the open greed that lurks beneath the merchant's placid exterior. Even if Luocha were to hide his interest behind the mask of the well-meaning, ever-helpful man of medicine, whispering convincingly about potential treatments or a scientific interest in his condition, Caelus might still refuse, out of concern for Luocha's safety if not his own. Sorry, but I can't let you do that. You'd be putting yourself in danger, too, if the Stellaron went out of control.
But — let's say, theoretically, there was more time to build the snare, and set up the conditions for Caelus to step in it. Suppose he could be convinced of the necessity of it; suppose he thought of Luocha as a friend. It wouldn't even take very long: after all, even his precious family on the Astral Express are really only strangers he's known for a few months, a few weeks, and when every friend is a stranger then so too is every stranger a friend. There are all sorts of possibilities in this world, and he is so very, very agreeable, when it comes to people he thinks of as his friends.
And he likes Luocha, anyway. Or at least, he thinks he likes Luocha, when he remembers that he doesn't need to feel threatened. ]
Yeah. Himeko said Penacony was going to be our next stop.
[ Apparently quite at ease again, Caelus leans back in his seat, arching his back just slightly, stretching out the (evidently chronic) aches in his spine. He rolls his broad shoulders and his long neck, then settles into a new relaxed position, looking at Luocha with expectant interest. ]
I don't know very much about it, though... I was planning to do some light reading at least, but then the Stellaron at the Luofu appeared.
[There will probably be a day, eventually, when the subtle little hints finally slot into place, and that odd knee-jerk sense of being threatened Caelus keeps having in Luocha's vicinity is at last somewhat validated. Whether or not he'll still think he likes Luocha by that time...well, that will probably be quite an interesting occasion all around.
But that's yet another metaphorical future, among various others--and for now...yes, for now, the atmosphere is not yet chilled. Luocha's placid exterior holds, and Caelus addresses the line of questioning with ease both verbally and physically, and all is well. This remains simply a friendly exchange between a healer and a casually acquainted patient. And so, accordingly--with a faint smile settling anew, on Luocha's part:]
Why, yes. As a matter of fact, I was indeed going to request something from there. Hah, guessing right that promptly...it's actually a bit embarrassing, being quite that transparent. [You know, as if he's ever been transparent about anything ever in his life--] I have never visited Penacony myself, you see. Business has simply never yet aligned...and it's looking as if it won't align in that direction for some time still, either. I will be departing from the Luofu before too long, but it'll be elsewhere, if things pan out as I rather expect--which means our intersecting paths here will also be parting, by that time.
[This is all said with the serene affectation of somebody that Is Not in fact anticipating his own arrest at the hands of the Xianzhou authorities within the month, or anything like that,]
Still, if fortune turns such that we might yet meet again at some point...do you think perhaps you could hold onto some manner of trinket or treat from there, for me to have a look at sometime? Something distinctly unique to Penacony in itself.
There are some things already slotting into place. Not the Stellaron, not the impossible number of legal violations that don't really matter in the end — he has no way of knowing those things about Luocha just yet — but he is beginning to understand why he has such ambivalent feelings about Luocha, despite everything about the man that should point in the opposite direction.
Because there's a lot to like about Luocha on face value, really. He's charming, he's kind, he's intelligent. He goes out of his way to help others; he notices things that others don't. Perhaps these characteristics are ultimately commonplace throughout the universe, but to Caelus, whose first experiences with life have involved at least several temperamental geniuses and dangerous internationally renowned criminals, the rare simplicity of kindness goes a long way. Plus, while it's less important than the good facets of his character, the merchant is — "easy on the eyes" doesn't even begin to encapsulate it. It's not merely that he's handsome. He is ethereally pretty in a way where Caelus just sort of wants to zone out and think about nothing while watching him move about, like the man is a particularly glossy and beautiful specimen of jaguar that can be safely observed through glass.
But. But.
The thing that's been setting off Caelus's sense of danger — besides the creature in the coffin, which is a whole different problem entirely — is the way that Luocha can say several dozen words while seemingly saying nothing at all.
Caelus kind of just thought he was stupid, at first. That he was just dumb, that he wasn't catching on. That he'd just let it slide, the way he lets everything slide, because he doesn't know much, and other people seem to know lots of things. But the more time that he spends in Luocha's presence, the more he thinks this is either an intentional or reflexive thing that the man does. That it's not some fault of his understanding, actually.
I have never visited Penacony myself, okay, that's a fact. Business has never aligned — vague, but implies the logical interpretation that his job has just kept him busy with other things. Won't align in that direction for time still could mean a lot of things, probably just that he'll be busy, but is still wildly open to interpretation. I will be departing from the Luofu, okay, fact, but it'll be elsewhere, what does that mean, if things pan out as I expect, what does that mean —
And trinket or treat? It's like he just says things, on purpose, that are open to interpretation, on purpose, but why? ]
A trinket or a treat. [ It just comes out of his mouth before he can stop himself — ] Do you want to be more specific?
[ It comes out sounding so deadpan, flat, and unintentionally judgmental that Caelus actually cringes at himself once it's said. Grimacing, this time not because of his leg, the Trailblazer passes a palm over his face and clarifies: ]
[Intentional or reflexive...perhaps it's both those things at once, really, if such an answer could be considered a valid one. Actions practiced sufficiently long enough are bound to become habit in time--isn't there a proverb along those lines?
A ruse is far easier to maintain, after all, when you delegate at least half the work to the audience. Mention you're a merchant, but never specify what you sell, and the latter party either never thinks much of it or makes up their own list of assumed wares. State, if asked, that the coffin you carry is a tool of your trade--how so? For what reason? Never leave sufficiently polite room for such questions to be asked, and they stay internal, or are resolved in imagination instead. Open-ended details, open-ended answers--to be filled in whatever way seems most fitting, for the man who's so kind and smart and riveting to the eyes, surely too much so to be hiding much of anything.
Still. Every now and then, someone picks up the pattern. And sometimes it's an unexpected someone, now isn't it?
Caelus might be rescinding that first-impulse flatly judgmental question with a proper grimace, but the fact remains that it was quite clearly a first impulse. This prompts a slight but rather distinct pause, on Luocha's part, in which he takes a moment to blink back. To go by the unwavering pleasant set of his expression, no particular offense has been taken, but.]
Well, as I said, I intend for this to be a fairly painless request. I thought it might be easier for you to have a broad range of options, and so in that sense, anything would indeed be fine. But, perhaps in the end that was all rather too vague, hm? [Something knowing tugs at the corner of his pleasant smile, as if they're not just talking about the Penacony favor--even if, aloud, they are.] Let's say, then, to narrow things down...I do tend to particularly enjoy sampling novel foods or drinks in new places. So, perhaps it could be something along those lines. Either packaged or sealed, of course, to accommodate however long the length of time might be before we cross paths again...is this sufficiently specific, you think?
[Idle humor still lilts the last question. Luocha is not specific about much of anything at all when he can help it, no, and it seems he's aware enough of this fact.
...It seems that Caelus is also becoming aware of this fact, though, and rest assured this is something being noted in a mental dossier about now. That he may in fact be more perceptive than even he himself realizes. Hmm...]
[ Perhaps a man like Luocha, so carefully in control all of the time, will appreciate the sense of anxiety that he holds Caelus in up until he speaks — the poor Trailblazer is quite clearly worried that he's offended Luocha for as long as the merchant holds him in that pause, even despite the serene look on the man's pleasant face. Then, at last, he speaks — and just as quickly, Caelus's worries go away. ]
...Wait, so you just want snacks?
[ He's so relieved, both by the fact that his thoughtless impulse didn't offend the mysterious merchant, and by the unexpected simplicity of the request, that Caelus can't help but laugh. The sound that emerges is surprisingly boyish; the smile that overtakes his face makes his eyes curve. ]
Okay, sure. I can get you snacks from Penacony. [ There's a long ribbon on his left sleeve that he fusses with sometimes; unconsciously, he flips it through his fingers now, holding it to his chin as he speaks, still smiling slightly. ] If I see anything else that makes me think of you, I'll pick that up too.
[ What was there to worry about in the end? Maybe Luocha has a point, in that Caelus's little aches and pains are adding up to exhaustion, and exhaustion is making him subconsciously anxious. The man may be slick, a double-talker, insufferably vague — but he's a nice guy, and he's offered to help Caelus, and he hasn't done anything too strange, really. Never mind how Welt feels about him. There's nothing to worry about at all.
(There's another thing here, a way in which Caelus might be like a dog with a new trick: what he has learned from this exchange is that if he's confused about something Luocha said, he can ask the man for clarification. Which might seem simple, even shallow, but people like Herta don't usually give him that luxury — and, also, might be a bit novel on the receiving end, for a man who gets away with everything by basically saying nothing at all.)
Anyway, Caelus is still musing to himself. Thinking about snacks he might pick up in Penacony. ]
...That's so cute.
[ It's not deliberate, not flattery. He just thinks it out loud, that's all; it's like the kind of request that March would make. Cute, like the teddy bears in her room. But March is cute in an annoying way, and Luocha's not annoying at all! ...Confusing, perhaps, but not annoying! ]
[There is always something distinctly satisfying, about being able to guess at reactions and find them validated--to string along a little tension just so, and then graciously allow it to alleviate, observing the expressions that result as anticipated. Caelus is a refreshingly open book, in that sense, so plainly and earnestly as he wears his emotions upon his sleeve. He might be possessed of surprisingly decent perception, yes, but it seems that in the end...
Still quite easy to sideline and assure. Very pliant to work with, isn't he?]
--Hmm. Yes, I suppose that's the simpler phrase. I do like snacks. [Quite wryly aware of how his wandering phrasing has just been unceremoniously boiled down in this way, yes. But no offense still, no, in the face of that relief and that smile. Boyish indeed, to be so relieved as to laugh about it. Caelus continues to invoke the term 'endearing', and it's really almost impressive in how it's likely not deliberate. ...Really, he could do with being more careful. This is a sort of trait people will be tempted to either relentlessly indulge or relentlessly bully...] No need to overdo it, rest assured, one or two items of interest would be more than enough. ...Does it really strike you so, as such a "cute" sort of thing?
[That's a word he doesn't receive too often. It's not that Luocha's particularly put out by it, exactly, but there's something distinctly amusing about how it's so freely given. Will he still be thought of as "cute", Luocha wonders, if he--?
Draws closer once more, now that the terms of the contract have been more or less set. Leaning down, over Caelus where he's seated, the drape of his long flaxen hair spilling artfully over one shoulder to brush at his torso, as Luocha reaches to place his left hand on his thigh.
...The thigh on the injured leg. Of course. That injury they were going to work on from the start, you know.]
What sorts of very different things are you usually asked for? [The question is asked close beside Caelus's head, words casually murmured over the side of his neck. A distinct not-hot-not-cold sort of sensation is likely spreading over his leg, about now, as the cross at Luocha's wrist flickers once more, trailed along the path of his hand as it moves slowly.] Missions of a more challenging sort, I assume?
[ Caelus jolts when Luocha leans closer, laying one hand on his thigh. It's not — it's not unpleasant, he reassures himself quickly. It's just unexpected. He feels his own pulse skyrocket again, loud in his ears, overtaking his senses; not for the first time, he wishes he could just get a hold of himself. Why is he so incredibly nervous —
— no, the other question is, why is Luocha so close? Didn't he say that he didn't need to touch... no, he said that he didn't need to see it... no, wait, Caelus was the one who assumed that he didn't need to see it, and then he — he didn't say much of anything at all. But he just examined me before without touching me, Caelus thinks, a little helplessly. No, wait — didn't Dan Heng say, back then... that he was always healing from a distance...?
He was asked a question. He has to remind himself, as his heart races and all his mind can focus on is the elegant way that Luocha's hair falls, that he was asked a question. ]
A-Ah, well... they're never really... all that challenging. Just...
[ He's not unfamiliar with the sensation of being healed. From Natasha, for example, it tends to feel like being wrapped up in a warm blanket, swathed in softness. From March, though she doesn't really heal, it's chilly and bracing, like being playfully pelted with a little bit of snow to jolt your nerves awake. This — feels like something lukewarm seeping through his muscles, drawing tension like a poison out of his skin. Very pleasurable, and would probably combine nicely with the sense of adrenaline that Caelus usually gets on the battlefield — but at the moment, he just feels sort of dangerously, addictively relaxed. ]
People want things... like their goods delivered, or money, or clothes... or photos of my friends, like Himeko and Dan Heng... one of these days someone's gonna want hot photos of Welt...
[ He closes his eyes. Maybe it's just his imagination, but it's almost as though he can feel the fibers of his muscles being slowly re-knitted into their proper places. ]
I don't hate it. I like people. It's just, most of them... when you ask them what they want, or how you can help them... their problems come down to things like greed and lust.
[It's not as if Dan Heng's wrong, because it's true. Luocha is entirely capable of healing from a distance--and normally favors such, if anything, on the field of battle. He doesn't really...need to be touching Caelus at all, no, for something as simple as mending tissue displaced.
But close contact does bring the thrum of that Stellaron to clear clarity once again. Does it skip once more, in time with that jolt of Caelus's nerves again? Would the frequency more substantially change, in any way, if he were to feel sufficiently unsettled? Just what would it take, to fray at that remarkable stability? ...Ah, the truly ideal sort of test would be some sort of fight wound in fervent emotions, but he can't exactly get into one of those with Caelus for the foreseeable future. So, instead, there's this sort of alternative--playing to nerves, and the way Luocha's noticed that his proximity so thoroughly unbalances the young man, for reasons he can somewhat guess.
Unfair? Quite. Unnecessary? Surely. Truthfully...there isn't an objectively practical reason to be doing this. But it is...hm...what's the word, really. This isn't a feeling he taps upon often anymore, these days. A little window of opportunity to have such absolute but fairly inconsequential control as this, over someone, is rather rare. It's...
Fun? Yes, perhaps it's fun. Interesting and mildly entertaining in equal measures, to idly pluck at these strings and see what results--the Stellaron's responses, and Caelus's as well.
(Honestly, toying with somebody rather the same way a cat might toy with a hapless prey animal is really Not very cute conduct at all, but it seems Caelus is just such a very forgiving soul, and it's really just too accommodating--)]
Mm, such are the vices of all mortal things in this world, no matter where one might go. It sounds as if you take these errands with impressive stride; most people are hardly so generously patient with others. I somehow doubt even Mr. Yang would be too enthused to fulfill that particular hypothetical request there... [Luocha's tone remains warmly even, nigh soothing. It corresponds perhaps a little too well to the sedate effect of the healing. But, for all that the intentions behind it might not be entirely too wholesome, there is genuine mending to be had; muscles soothed to loosen, whatever slight internal damage might have been left within after that fall being gently unwound.] At any rate, that's fair enough--hah, even I am hardly free of sin, believe it or not. [And all the debt therein--] There are probably worse qualities to have than a little cute gluttony...very generous of you, sir.
[Exceedingly so, really. But now here's a pause, and a slight tilt of Luocha's head, his voice just that bit closer to Caelus's ear in result.]
Oh...I beg your pardon, though, I should have warned you sooner. You're likely feeling something similar to an aching or numbing sensation, about now--this is normal. If it ever becomes unpleasant, you should let me know. ...Alright so far?
[The gloved hand still trails along, lightly drawing a line from the top of Caelus's thigh to just over his knee--slowly, very slowly, before starting to draw a circle back up. ...The scent of pale flowers is starting to settle heavy.]
[ The Stellaron is loud, this close. Interestingly enough, it's not quite racing along with Caelus's fluttering heart, now; it's thrumming, the imperceptible bass pulse of its existence vibrating long and loud with each breath that the Trailblazer takes, like some sort of raucous block party thumping along, distant and yet only one inch away. Unlike other Stellarons, it is not characterized by greed — but the emotion in it, the feeling — yes, it is something like desire.
Caelus, for his part, feels a little too sedated. Too exalted. The intense sense of pleasure that has seized him — it's not quite sexual, but it is rather similar to the sort of orgasmic ecstasy that comes from standing under a hot shower on the Express after a long, hard expedition. Not quite sexual, but it's going to get there if Luocha keeps touching feather-light over his thigh like that. Caelus almost wants to warn the man about it — what would he even say? — but when he takes a breath to talk, he smells that sweet, addictive floral scent again, and then he really can't think of anything to say at all. The thread of that mending needle being pulled through his muscles — it's too relieving to push away.
Then Luocha's low voice is practically breathed into his ear, tickling his eardrum, trickling along the back of his skull and down his spine.
Caelus shivers, but only slightly. He likes this, too, more than he wants to let on. It's like being lost in some sort of embarrassingly indulgent Foxian immersia — Luocha ASMR: Mysterious Merchant Heals Your Aches and Pains, Soft Spoken, Personal Attention. (He wants to kick himself for thinking about this. He's spent too much time with Guinafen lately.) ]
...Yeah. I'm alright. [ He nods a little too quickly; there's an element of shame in it. ] Feels good.
[ He needs. He needs he needs he needs. He needs to think. About what, he's not yet sure, but there is something in him that is embarrassingly eager to impress Luocha, and he doesn't think that the man will be very impressed if he goes and falls asleep on his couch during this healing.
(The Stellaron flickers, as if thinking alongside Caelus. It helps him. The Stellaron will fulfill any wish of yours, it whispers, sometimes, before everything goes dark.)
He reaches out. Blindly, at first, but then his hand settles lightly on the crook of Luocha's elbow. It's not to stop him, but maybe to — to what? To invite him. To guide him. To pull him in.
Caelus looks up, and for a moment, his gaze is startlingly clear.
(The Stellaron purrs, when Caelus's eyes fall on Luocha, perhaps because it knows more about desire than he does.) ]
...I know you're not innocent. But that's why I think... it's cute that you didn't ask for more.
[ What is he trying to say, really? That he knows, deep down, what kind of person Luocha probably is? That he doesn't care. That it was enough, for Caelus, that Luocha didn't ask for more. Because everyone comes to him wanting something, and he's never hated that, would never judge someone for that —
— and yet, on some level, and despite everyone he knows, he is just lonely and friendless enough to think I know you could have been more cruel to me with genuine gratitude. ]
luocha asmr...........im dying. lbr it would def be too popular tho--
Luocha wasn't expecting to be quite this surprised.
There's a combination of multiple factors here, all emerging in rapid succession, all rather more than anticipated. The stirring of the Stellaron's intent, for one, crystal clear to perceive this close--intriguingly, something that now emerges somewhat separate from Caelus's own responses. There's now, finally, a slightly characteristic sort of hunger being exerted...and yet still not in the conventional fashion. Not in the way it seems to turn its metaphorical eye upon him, purring with a desire in tandem with the sharpening of Caelus's attention. It doesn't strike as...alarming necessarily, though perhaps it probably should. Luocha instead finds himself reminded of the first time he sought to handle a flame somewhat like this one, the precaution and delicacy required therein. The heady adrenaline that accompanies such caution, unknown as the results of the slightest misstep might be. No, it seems he hasn't quite frayed that stability just yet...but to have piqued its active interest in turn instead--is this better? Worse? (Something that could be used?) New ground is being tread upon here. Perhaps ill-advised in method, but...
If second thoughts about this are to be had, it seems a bit too late for them anyhow. Because now there's a new factor emerging, isn't there? In the way Caelus reaches out like that. In the way Caelus looks at him like that. It had been noted moments earlier, of course, the too-quick nod and the stifled shiver, the way his body warms and eases under both the influence of the healing and the closeness of his presence, his voice. Things that had intended to fluster the young man, yes, and ply some more of those terribly honest responses from him. --Yet again, though, it seems Luocha has underestimated just how terribly honest Caelus can actually be. To say such a thing in such a forthright fashion. To acknowledge so very openly, that he's aware of exactly what this exchange likely actually is.
Yet still, he seeks to hold Luocha in place, instead of pushing him away. Encouragement, of this unkind toying, simply because--it's not worse?
Is he truly so confident, that Luocha wouldn't be any crueler later?
--This was supposed to be a diversion of little consequence. And it still is of little consequence, Luocha reminds himself, or at least...it ought to be. So long as he keeps it that way, within his own perception. Caelus's earnest admission here and now might be giving him just a moment's pause, and might be invoking the briefest unseen flicker of something like--no, not pity. Not quite. But oh, he thinks, you really haven't seen much of this world at all yet, have you? What terribly bitter things will Caelus find himself learning later? Someone probably ought to warn him. ...But that someone won't be Luocha, who already has too many other obligations upon his plate. Too many other debts to settle. He's hardly fit to be a teacher...but he can be a lesson learned, he supposes, whenever that time might finally arrive.
And this...is still fun, after all. Isn't it? Even despite the surprises, the renewed tangibility of the fire he's now playing with. All else aside, it's still terribly amusing how Caelus keeps bandying a term like "cute" about...when he's also all but embodying that description himself, somehow. Hazard and innocence so strangely juxtaposed.
(Luocha probably won't realize until later, how odd it is for this thought to emerge from what he'd thought to be a self-imposed indifference. He invited this meeting with the objective curiosity of a scientist examining a vessel, and now...)]
Hm. ...You know, sir, most people don't point out a ruse to call it cute. You really do say such interesting things.
[Tone still soft and even and warm, despite the pause preceding it. Luocha doesn't move away, though his hand does still over Caelus's thigh, as the tingle of the healing gently dissipates. Because the damage has been repaired, there, and Caelus will no longer be walking with that particular sort of limp by the time he leaves this room. ...But there's still the matter of the rest of his body, now isn't there? As had been discussed. It hasn't been forgotten.
But there's something else to acknowledge now, too, if Caelus is going to be so very forthright like this. (...Even if the temptation is still strong, to forego any remaining semblance of politeness altogether. Even if it would be so very easy, now, to simply take and take to curiosity's content.) No, no, at the very least...he ought to be repaid for his honesty. For being such a nicely pliable subject. So, even in having the mask pointed out, Luocha does not take it off; his smile is still kind, his manner gentle, as his left hand moves up to splay fingertips over Caelus's chest. Palm lightly settling right over the sultry pulse of the Stellaron within; half an appeal, half a provocation. Still leaning close enough for their faces to be mere inches apart, as Luocha shifts to meet the scrutiny of those gold eyes evenly.]
You must not be very used to having this asked, in that case...but I do wonder. Is there something that you want, right now?
i don't want to admit what's in my search history now...
[ The Stellaron's movements are fascinating. Luocha wasn't wrong, in a way: setting Caelus's nerves aflutter did disturb the fragile balance between the Stellaron and its host, sent them spinning in different directions. What's fascinating about the current situation is that it's the Stellaron pulling Caelus back into sync, and not the other way around. It is telling him what to do; it is soothing him. Those long slow pulses of its astral core seem to be stabilizing his racing pulse. The Cancer of All Worlds is normally a disease which has no cure, and then here is this young man, using it as a shield for his own fragile heart.
Is the host himself aware of this? Not particularly, and that's fascinating, too. He can hear its voice sometimes, when it decides to speak to him — but in the moment, what it wants is indistinguishable from his own impulses. He looks at Luocha; he takes a breath. The man's lashes are so very long, his lovely green gaze so very soft and gentle and understanding. The touch to his chest is so patient, even though it could rip his heart out. And even if it's all a lie, even if this is only one of a thousand sour lessons he'll need to learn to swallow...
The Stellaron sings in his blood, rejoicing. Exultant in its purpose. Yes. Good. Desire — covet — claim. I will grant you what you wish. ]
...I want to kiss you.
[ Yes. Yes, that's right, isn't it? That's what he's wanted, this whole time. It feels so much better to have said it. So much better, even though the color in his face is heating his cheeks, and his blood feels like it's surging through every part of his body. It's on the table now, and he can't take it back. He's spoken it out loud. He's never felt more alive.
His face is tipped upward in humble supplication, like that of a parishioner at worship, but even so, Caelus reaches out. With the sort of hubris that would strike him down if he were the hero of a fable in which his foolishness rouses the gods, he places his other hand on the back of Luocha's knee, pulling him — gently, it won't work if the man refuses to budge — into his lap where he sits in the armchair. The cushion he was holding tumbles to the ground. ]
I want to touch you. [ Breathed like a prayer into the night, the low rasp of Caelus's voice hot against the shell of his ear. ] I think — I might want too much.
[ ...It occurs to the Trailblazer, much too late, that as pretty as Luocha is, and as coarse and thick and common as Caelus thinks himself — the man has a good few inches on him, both in terms of height and general physical build. The realization that Luocha is much heavier than he was actually braced for sends a jolt of irrational arousal going straight between his legs.
You know, I don't think I'm going to win, he thinks vaguely to himself, if this comes down to a fight — and this is a terribly funny thing to think, after begging for a kiss. ]
Edited (i try to stop editing, and yet,) 2023-12-31 23:35 (UTC)
grips your shoulder....make that both our search histories tbf,
[There's something to be noted for a fact, about the way the influence of wills between the Stellaron and its container seems to be somehow inverting, in these insecure matters of the heart. The way Caelus's pulse only seems to settle under the guide of the Stellaron's steady thrum; the way his nerves somewhat ease into a boldness that seems almost drawn from another source, liquid courage of a different kind. At this proximity Luocha can hear it easily, that peculiar shift in frequency and the thrall it seems to be exerting upon this host, but...
In this moment, for once, these are notes to be reviewed at a later time. Because even Luocha's own considerable command of focus is not, entirely enough, to resist the distraction of those hands that tug--of the voice that reaches his ear, weighed heavy with desire as those requests are spoken. So plainly, so plaintively. Why, look at him, already flushing just bringing these thoughts to surface. Cute indeed.
It's not surprising, at least, not this particular thing. Not when it had been fairly obvious from the moment they'd clasped hands back in the lobby, if not perhaps in little cues and lingering glances even before that. Luocha is well aware of the physical appeal he can carry, yet another tool among many to be utilized towards his own ends; Caelus is hardly the first to express something like this to him, and he's quite unlikely to be the last. ...But there's novelty in the circumstances, in this particular case. And he's being so very good, answering the question so promptly, even taking a little initiative for himself--
Yes, it'd be easy enough for Luocha to simply decline to move. But there's no resistance at all, against the gentle pull of Caelus's hands; Luocha settles over the young man's lap slowly but easily, almost languidly, their torsos pressing close, straddling over his thighs such that his weight quite promptly pins Caelus in place, eases him subtly but firmly against the back of the armchair. --Indeed, it'd be a bad time for him to be having any misgivings about the position. Caelus won't be moving elsewhere anytime particularly soon like this, until Luocha should see fit to free him. ...It's fairly easy to pass himself off as a mildly hapless and vulnerable healer in combat, yes, with a face like this. But the illusion likely doesn't hold up half as well on occasions like this one--where there's a subtle impression of core strength that keeps the merchant's posture fairly prim and balanced even despite this position, and permits only the most gentle roll of pressure against Caelus's pelvis as he settles--doubtless just enough, and just too little, to be intentionally frustrating.
The contrast in their body languages couldn't be more clear like this, eagerness now shored up against a near immaculate-seeming sort of composure. Luocha's own complexion doesn't yet flush; his breathing remains slow and even. Cues will have to be taken from more subtle tells, should Caelus be seeking them: the edge that curves ever so slightly upon his smile, the sharpening intent that flickers behind that veneer of patience in his half-lidded gaze. Luocha sighs, softly, in equal parts at the contact and the tone at his ear. The hand on Caelus's chest remains there, between them...and the pressure of his palm increases just slightly, as a flare of that healing flickers anew, seeps into those residual aches of earlier.]
Too much, you think so? My, but to me, that hardly sounds like too much at all. ...Take anything you'd like. It'll help you feel better.
[Isn't that why Caelus came in here in the first place?
The permission is a low murmur; there's just a bit of a shift, somewhere in there, from the warm affect Luocha normally favors. A rather interesting contrast, perhaps, between the illusion of choice still offered by the words...and the darker note of demand folded underneath the tone. Just the slightest bit of a hint, of the truth just below the honeyed surface. Luocha's other hand reaches to trace up the column of Caelus's throat, raise his head--tip his chin, with a gloved fingertip. The better to lean close, and press a kiss to his lips--sweetly, infuriatingly chaste.]
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trailblazers2023-12-03 11:23 am
no subject
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...? ]
1/2
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--]
no subject
[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?]
no subject
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... ]
no subject
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...
no subject
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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[ He says this very neutrally, like it's only normal for that sort of thing to happen sometimes.
He wants to touch his chest in remembrance, but Luocha's hand is in the way, so the Trailblazer settles for closing his eyes to contemplate everything instead. The lance, the snow, the desperate stand. What he promised the will of the Guardians. Maybe Alisa Rand was in the end only another mournful little girl in a series of mournful little girls driven to insanity by the thought of a dying world. Endurance is like that, Caelus thinks abstractly; it will drive you to madness. But even so. Never waver.
The gaze of the Amber Lord seared itself into his flesh. Maybe he has only deluded himself into thinking that it felt like approval. ]
...I thought I understood... what they would have wanted.
[ This last remark seems meant more for himself than for Luocha — but, after a moment, he wakes himself from his own reverie, golden eyes blinking at the "miracle doctor" with sudden catlike alertness. ]
So — if I say that I'd like a clean slate, what will your new offer cost me?
[ For all that the Trailblazer has bumbled into this, guileless and impulsive and seemingly thinking nothing at all, he has in fact not forgotten that Luocha is supposed to be a merchant. At some point, he figures, he will probably have to pay a price. ]
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Studying the neutral set of Caelus's features in delivering this news for a long moment, Luocha supposes that perhaps it would indeed seem like such a typical thing. To a person for whom, most likely, life events in general are few but densely steeped in strangeness.]
My, is that so? I see...
[As if there aren't countless people in this universe who would spend their whole lives burning themselves to ashes for the mere illusion of any Aeon's split-second attention. As if the reversal of a mortal wound on behalf of the Preservation wouldn't be considered by some cultures to be an ultimate favor of the Amber Lord, the height of divine providence. ...Still, though the memory does seem to set a pensiveness of some reflection upon Caelus in recalling it, he doesn't address it with overt gravity...and so Luocha opts not to either. Merely this politely intrigued acknowledgment, with slightly arched eyebrows to accompany it...before Luocha's hand is drawn back, health assessment finished, and he moves on from there.
--Well. Almost, moves on,]
Naturally, it would be difficult to determine the true intent behind such an encounter. There are scholars in this world who spend all their days attempting to understand the wants of Aeons, only to find themselves no closer to the truth in the end. But there is no hole in your heart at present, and you breathe among the living still, and this is a result that cannot be argued. Does the reasoning matter so much in the end?
[He knows, of course, that he's responding to a remark that wasn't even directly meant for him. Perhaps it's just...the topic of Aeons always tends to draw something out, like this. It's something about the flat set of Luocha's words, the certainty in that last question, as if it isn't particularly rhetorical in his own opinion.
(To him, the reasoning doesn't matter at all. Not when it's barely human anymore. Not when the end result doesn't change anyhow, regardless of the answer. When all you can do is try to move forward with the fickle cards they've now dealt you. Because you have to. Because there's no choice. As it always is, in matters of Aeons--)
But anyhow. Yes, now they're moving on. It's an almost palpable shift right back, from that brief lapsing pause to something more cordially amiable once more. To business, and all that.]
Hmm, but let's see...for a clean slate of health...well, I hardly think this a sort of thing that would demand a monetary charge. If you'd consider it a favor from me...then perhaps, I could ask a favor from you in return?
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Saving his life may have really been nothing more than a coincidence. Maybe Caelus attracted the Amber Lord's gaze, and then they saw a hole, and they fixed it. Because they must build. They must fix. They must endure.
(There's another thought that plagues him, sometimes — one that he's never brought up with anyone else, not even Herta, who would be most curious. Maybe the Preservation, in their wordless actions, meant to say: Rise, Akivili, my old friend. Today, as yesterday, your time is not yet come.)
Anyway. At the mention of a favor, Caelus visibly perks up. The Trailblazer is not really like a cat in the ways that matter, but one cannot help but get the feeling, despite his mostly-expressionless mien, that if he had a pair of animal ears (canine or feline or perhaps merely procyonine... well, raccoonish) they would be fully pointed upwards in eager anticipation. His eyes are now wide and awake. There's a liiittle tiny bit of a smile on his face.
Sidequest? Sidequest? He loves sidequests. ]
Of course. What's the favor?
[ (Does he sense that odd atmosphere that sets in when Luocha talks about Aeons? Maybe. But, ostensibly — that's not for him to engage with. At least, not right now.) ]
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And oh, how promptly the young man perks up, at the mere hint of the prospect. Quite easy to see how the Nameless have developed such a favored reputation aboard the Luofu already, Luocha thinks, when they have someone among their number who draws such evident happiness at the simple idea of doing something for someone. No doubt this one's been running errands for all sorts of people here ever since they arrived, hm? ...This, too, is oddly endearing to learn. Maybe a little too much. --Surely he wouldn't agree to just about anything? One hopes he's at least a little discerning, about the favors he takes up? This sort of thing...really could be a little too easy to get taken advantage of...
Not that Luocha would try, of course. Not...at the moment, anyhow, so early on as things are, so briefly as they've known each other. No, to call it a 'temptation' is too strong a word, but there is an ever so quiet thing shaped somewhat like an intrusive thought, in the back of his head, that observes Caelus's eager anticipation and wants to test just how pliant it might be. How about this, for a favor: would you let me open you up, reach in you, and touch that reticent flame in your core? Just a moment, just for a look. Just to see what work has been done. Just to see what the Preservation saw. It's curious, it's just so very curious. The longer this interaction goes on, the more intriguing Caelus becomes, little hints of such remarkable aspects tucked close underneath such an unassuming and irreverent surface. ...But Luocha has not come this far in his life by being an impatient person. To try prizing apart that surface so bluntly now would be crass, besides. Unbecoming.
And in being close enough to administer healing, he'll have a chance for a fairly close look anyhow...]
It would be nothing much, of course, ideally something that won't be too inconvenient for you... [This is what comes out aloud, the pause before it near imperceptible, and the mild set of Luocha expression hinting nothing at the decidedly Less Mild internal demons currently being smoothed back down.] But it does occur to me that you'd be in an ideal position for this, as one of the ever-transient Nameless.
May I ask, what stop was next scheduled for the Astral Express, before you were all sidelined by the plight of the Luofu? If I recall, the nearest locale of prominent note in this corner of the galaxy would be Penacony...would I be correct, to assume you were heading there?
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But — let's say, theoretically, there was more time to build the snare, and set up the conditions for Caelus to step in it. Suppose he could be convinced of the necessity of it; suppose he thought of Luocha as a friend. It wouldn't even take very long: after all, even his precious family on the Astral Express are really only strangers he's known for a few months, a few weeks, and when every friend is a stranger then so too is every stranger a friend. There are all sorts of possibilities in this world, and he is so very, very agreeable, when it comes to people he thinks of as his friends.
And he likes Luocha, anyway. Or at least, he thinks he likes Luocha, when he remembers that he doesn't need to feel threatened. ]
Yeah. Himeko said Penacony was going to be our next stop.
[ Apparently quite at ease again, Caelus leans back in his seat, arching his back just slightly, stretching out the (evidently chronic) aches in his spine. He rolls his broad shoulders and his long neck, then settles into a new relaxed position, looking at Luocha with expectant interest. ]
I don't know very much about it, though... I was planning to do some light reading at least, but then the Stellaron at the Luofu appeared.
[ ...As Luocha would know, very intimately. ]
Do you need something there? In Penacony.
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But that's yet another metaphorical future, among various others--and for now...yes, for now, the atmosphere is not yet chilled. Luocha's placid exterior holds, and Caelus addresses the line of questioning with ease both verbally and physically, and all is well. This remains simply a friendly exchange between a healer and a casually acquainted patient. And so, accordingly--with a faint smile settling anew, on Luocha's part:]
Why, yes. As a matter of fact, I was indeed going to request something from there. Hah, guessing right that promptly...it's actually a bit embarrassing, being quite that transparent. [You know, as if he's ever been transparent about anything ever in his life--] I have never visited Penacony myself, you see. Business has simply never yet aligned...and it's looking as if it won't align in that direction for some time still, either. I will be departing from the Luofu before too long, but it'll be elsewhere, if things pan out as I rather expect--which means our intersecting paths here will also be parting, by that time.
[This is all said with the serene affectation of somebody that Is Not in fact anticipating his own arrest at the hands of the Xianzhou authorities within the month, or anything like that,]
Still, if fortune turns such that we might yet meet again at some point...do you think perhaps you could hold onto some manner of trinket or treat from there, for me to have a look at sometime? Something distinctly unique to Penacony in itself.
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There are some things already slotting into place. Not the Stellaron, not the impossible number of legal violations that don't really matter in the end — he has no way of knowing those things about Luocha just yet — but he is beginning to understand why he has such ambivalent feelings about Luocha, despite everything about the man that should point in the opposite direction.
Because there's a lot to like about Luocha on face value, really. He's charming, he's kind, he's intelligent. He goes out of his way to help others; he notices things that others don't. Perhaps these characteristics are ultimately commonplace throughout the universe, but to Caelus, whose first experiences with life have involved at least several temperamental geniuses and dangerous internationally renowned criminals, the rare simplicity of kindness goes a long way. Plus, while it's less important than the good facets of his character, the merchant is — "easy on the eyes" doesn't even begin to encapsulate it. It's not merely that he's handsome. He is ethereally pretty in a way where Caelus just sort of wants to zone out and think about nothing while watching him move about, like the man is a particularly glossy and beautiful specimen of jaguar that can be safely observed through glass.
But. But.
The thing that's been setting off Caelus's sense of danger — besides the creature in the coffin, which is a whole different problem entirely — is the way that Luocha can say several dozen words while seemingly saying nothing at all.
Caelus kind of just thought he was stupid, at first. That he was just dumb, that he wasn't catching on. That he'd just let it slide, the way he lets everything slide, because he doesn't know much, and other people seem to know lots of things. But the more time that he spends in Luocha's presence, the more he thinks this is either an intentional or reflexive thing that the man does. That it's not some fault of his understanding, actually.
I have never visited Penacony myself, okay, that's a fact. Business has never aligned — vague, but implies the logical interpretation that his job has just kept him busy with other things. Won't align in that direction for time still could mean a lot of things, probably just that he'll be busy, but is still wildly open to interpretation. I will be departing from the Luofu, okay, fact, but it'll be elsewhere, what does that mean, if things pan out as I expect, what does that mean —
And trinket or treat? It's like he just says things, on purpose, that are open to interpretation, on purpose, but why? ]
A trinket or a treat. [ It just comes out of his mouth before he can stop himself — ] Do you want to be more specific?
[ It comes out sounding so deadpan, flat, and unintentionally judgmental that Caelus actually cringes at himself once it's said. Grimacing, this time not because of his leg, the Trailblazer passes a palm over his face and clarifies: ]
I mean — sorry. I mean, uh... is anything fine?
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A ruse is far easier to maintain, after all, when you delegate at least half the work to the audience. Mention you're a merchant, but never specify what you sell, and the latter party either never thinks much of it or makes up their own list of assumed wares. State, if asked, that the coffin you carry is a tool of your trade--how so? For what reason? Never leave sufficiently polite room for such questions to be asked, and they stay internal, or are resolved in imagination instead. Open-ended details, open-ended answers--to be filled in whatever way seems most fitting, for the man who's so kind and smart and riveting to the eyes, surely too much so to be hiding much of anything.
Still. Every now and then, someone picks up the pattern. And sometimes it's an unexpected someone, now isn't it?
Caelus might be rescinding that first-impulse flatly judgmental question with a proper grimace, but the fact remains that it was quite clearly a first impulse. This prompts a slight but rather distinct pause, on Luocha's part, in which he takes a moment to blink back. To go by the unwavering pleasant set of his expression, no particular offense has been taken, but.]
Well, as I said, I intend for this to be a fairly painless request. I thought it might be easier for you to have a broad range of options, and so in that sense, anything would indeed be fine. But, perhaps in the end that was all rather too vague, hm? [Something knowing tugs at the corner of his pleasant smile, as if they're not just talking about the Penacony favor--even if, aloud, they are.] Let's say, then, to narrow things down...I do tend to particularly enjoy sampling novel foods or drinks in new places. So, perhaps it could be something along those lines. Either packaged or sealed, of course, to accommodate however long the length of time might be before we cross paths again...is this sufficiently specific, you think?
[Idle humor still lilts the last question. Luocha is not specific about much of anything at all when he can help it, no, and it seems he's aware enough of this fact.
...It seems that Caelus is also becoming aware of this fact, though, and rest assured this is something being noted in a mental dossier about now. That he may in fact be more perceptive than even he himself realizes. Hmm...]
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...Wait, so you just want snacks?
[ He's so relieved, both by the fact that his thoughtless impulse didn't offend the mysterious merchant, and by the unexpected simplicity of the request, that Caelus can't help but laugh. The sound that emerges is surprisingly boyish; the smile that overtakes his face makes his eyes curve. ]
Okay, sure. I can get you snacks from Penacony. [ There's a long ribbon on his left sleeve that he fusses with sometimes; unconsciously, he flips it through his fingers now, holding it to his chin as he speaks, still smiling slightly. ] If I see anything else that makes me think of you, I'll pick that up too.
[ What was there to worry about in the end? Maybe Luocha has a point, in that Caelus's little aches and pains are adding up to exhaustion, and exhaustion is making him subconsciously anxious. The man may be slick, a double-talker, insufferably vague — but he's a nice guy, and he's offered to help Caelus, and he hasn't done anything too strange, really. Never mind how Welt feels about him. There's nothing to worry about at all.
(There's another thing here, a way in which Caelus might be like a dog with a new trick: what he has learned from this exchange is that if he's confused about something Luocha said, he can ask the man for clarification. Which might seem simple, even shallow, but people like Herta don't usually give him that luxury — and, also, might be a bit novel on the receiving end, for a man who gets away with everything by basically saying nothing at all.)
Anyway, Caelus is still musing to himself. Thinking about snacks he might pick up in Penacony. ]
...That's so cute.
[ It's not deliberate, not flattery. He just thinks it out loud, that's all; it's like the kind of request that March would make. Cute, like the teddy bears in her room. But March is cute in an annoying way, and Luocha's not annoying at all! ...Confusing, perhaps, but not annoying! ]
Normally people ask me for very different things.
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Still quite easy to sideline and assure. Very pliant to work with, isn't he?]
--Hmm. Yes, I suppose that's the simpler phrase. I do like snacks. [Quite wryly aware of how his wandering phrasing has just been unceremoniously boiled down in this way, yes. But no offense still, no, in the face of that relief and that smile. Boyish indeed, to be so relieved as to laugh about it. Caelus continues to invoke the term 'endearing', and it's really almost impressive in how it's likely not deliberate. ...Really, he could do with being more careful. This is a sort of trait people will be tempted to either relentlessly indulge or relentlessly bully...] No need to overdo it, rest assured, one or two items of interest would be more than enough. ...Does it really strike you so, as such a "cute" sort of thing?
[That's a word he doesn't receive too often. It's not that Luocha's particularly put out by it, exactly, but there's something distinctly amusing about how it's so freely given. Will he still be thought of as "cute", Luocha wonders, if he--?
Draws closer once more, now that the terms of the contract have been more or less set. Leaning down, over Caelus where he's seated, the drape of his long flaxen hair spilling artfully over one shoulder to brush at his torso, as Luocha reaches to place his left hand on his thigh.
...The thigh on the injured leg. Of course. That injury they were going to work on from the start, you know.]
What sorts of very different things are you usually asked for? [The question is asked close beside Caelus's head, words casually murmured over the side of his neck. A distinct not-hot-not-cold sort of sensation is likely spreading over his leg, about now, as the cross at Luocha's wrist flickers once more, trailed along the path of his hand as it moves slowly.] Missions of a more challenging sort, I assume?
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— no, the other question is, why is Luocha so close? Didn't he say that he didn't need to touch... no, he said that he didn't need to see it... no, wait, Caelus was the one who assumed that he didn't need to see it, and then he — he didn't say much of anything at all. But he just examined me before without touching me, Caelus thinks, a little helplessly. No, wait — didn't Dan Heng say, back then... that he was always healing from a distance...?
He was asked a question. He has to remind himself, as his heart races and all his mind can focus on is the elegant way that Luocha's hair falls, that he was asked a question. ]
A-Ah, well... they're never really... all that challenging. Just...
[ He's not unfamiliar with the sensation of being healed. From Natasha, for example, it tends to feel like being wrapped up in a warm blanket, swathed in softness. From March, though she doesn't really heal, it's chilly and bracing, like being playfully pelted with a little bit of snow to jolt your nerves awake. This — feels like something lukewarm seeping through his muscles, drawing tension like a poison out of his skin. Very pleasurable, and would probably combine nicely with the sense of adrenaline that Caelus usually gets on the battlefield — but at the moment, he just feels sort of dangerously, addictively relaxed. ]
People want things... like their goods delivered, or money, or clothes... or photos of my friends, like Himeko and Dan Heng... one of these days someone's gonna want hot photos of Welt...
[ He closes his eyes. Maybe it's just his imagination, but it's almost as though he can feel the fibers of his muscles being slowly re-knitted into their proper places. ]
I don't hate it. I like people. It's just, most of them... when you ask them what they want, or how you can help them... their problems come down to things like greed and lust.
[ A little laugh. ]
Guess yours is gluttony. That's why it's cute.
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But close contact does bring the thrum of that Stellaron to clear clarity once again. Does it skip once more, in time with that jolt of Caelus's nerves again? Would the frequency more substantially change, in any way, if he were to feel sufficiently unsettled? Just what would it take, to fray at that remarkable stability? ...Ah, the truly ideal sort of test would be some sort of fight wound in fervent emotions, but he can't exactly get into one of those with Caelus for the foreseeable future. So, instead, there's this sort of alternative--playing to nerves, and the way Luocha's noticed that his proximity so thoroughly unbalances the young man, for reasons he can somewhat guess.
Unfair? Quite. Unnecessary? Surely. Truthfully...there isn't an objectively practical reason to be doing this. But it is...hm...what's the word, really. This isn't a feeling he taps upon often anymore, these days. A little window of opportunity to have such absolute but fairly inconsequential control as this, over someone, is rather rare. It's...
Fun? Yes, perhaps it's fun. Interesting and mildly entertaining in equal measures, to idly pluck at these strings and see what results--the Stellaron's responses, and Caelus's as well.
(Honestly, toying with somebody rather the same way a cat might toy with a hapless prey animal is really Not very cute conduct at all, but it seems Caelus is just such a very forgiving soul, and it's really just too accommodating--)]
Mm, such are the vices of all mortal things in this world, no matter where one might go. It sounds as if you take these errands with impressive stride; most people are hardly so generously patient with others. I somehow doubt even Mr. Yang would be too enthused to fulfill that particular hypothetical request there... [Luocha's tone remains warmly even, nigh soothing. It corresponds perhaps a little too well to the sedate effect of the healing. But, for all that the intentions behind it might not be entirely too wholesome, there is genuine mending to be had; muscles soothed to loosen, whatever slight internal damage might have been left within after that fall being gently unwound.] At any rate, that's fair enough--hah, even I am hardly free of sin, believe it or not. [And all the debt therein--] There are probably worse qualities to have than a little cute gluttony...very generous of you, sir.
[Exceedingly so, really. But now here's a pause, and a slight tilt of Luocha's head, his voice just that bit closer to Caelus's ear in result.]
Oh...I beg your pardon, though, I should have warned you sooner. You're likely feeling something similar to an aching or numbing sensation, about now--this is normal. If it ever becomes unpleasant, you should let me know. ...Alright so far?
[The gloved hand still trails along, lightly drawing a line from the top of Caelus's thigh to just over his knee--slowly, very slowly, before starting to draw a circle back up. ...The scent of pale flowers is starting to settle heavy.]
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Caelus, for his part, feels a little too sedated. Too exalted. The intense sense of pleasure that has seized him — it's not quite sexual, but it is rather similar to the sort of orgasmic ecstasy that comes from standing under a hot shower on the Express after a long, hard expedition. Not quite sexual, but it's going to get there if Luocha keeps touching feather-light over his thigh like that. Caelus almost wants to warn the man about it — what would he even say? — but when he takes a breath to talk, he smells that sweet, addictive floral scent again, and then he really can't think of anything to say at all. The thread of that mending needle being pulled through his muscles — it's too relieving to push away.
Then Luocha's low voice is practically breathed into his ear, tickling his eardrum, trickling along the back of his skull and down his spine.
Caelus shivers, but only slightly. He likes this, too, more than he wants to let on. It's like being lost in some sort of embarrassingly indulgent Foxian immersia — Luocha ASMR: Mysterious Merchant Heals Your Aches and Pains, Soft Spoken, Personal Attention. (He wants to kick himself for thinking about this. He's spent too much time with Guinafen lately.) ]
...Yeah. I'm alright. [ He nods a little too quickly; there's an element of shame in it. ] Feels good.
[ He needs. He needs he needs he needs. He needs to think. About what, he's not yet sure, but there is something in him that is embarrassingly eager to impress Luocha, and he doesn't think that the man will be very impressed if he goes and falls asleep on his couch during this healing.
(The Stellaron flickers, as if thinking alongside Caelus. It helps him. The Stellaron will fulfill any wish of yours, it whispers, sometimes, before everything goes dark.)
He reaches out. Blindly, at first, but then his hand settles lightly on the crook of Luocha's elbow. It's not to stop him, but maybe to — to what? To invite him. To guide him. To pull him in.
Caelus looks up, and for a moment, his gaze is startlingly clear.
(The Stellaron purrs, when Caelus's eyes fall on Luocha, perhaps because it knows more about desire than he does.) ]
...I know you're not innocent. But that's why I think... it's cute that you didn't ask for more.
[ What is he trying to say, really? That he knows, deep down, what kind of person Luocha probably is? That he doesn't care. That it was enough, for Caelus, that Luocha didn't ask for more. Because everyone comes to him wanting something, and he's never hated that, would never judge someone for that —
— and yet, on some level, and despite everyone he knows, he is just lonely and friendless enough to think I know you could have been more cruel to me with genuine gratitude. ]
luocha asmr...........im dying. lbr it would def be too popular tho--
...Well now...
Luocha wasn't expecting to be quite this surprised.
There's a combination of multiple factors here, all emerging in rapid succession, all rather more than anticipated. The stirring of the Stellaron's intent, for one, crystal clear to perceive this close--intriguingly, something that now emerges somewhat separate from Caelus's own responses. There's now, finally, a slightly characteristic sort of hunger being exerted...and yet still not in the conventional fashion. Not in the way it seems to turn its metaphorical eye upon him, purring with a desire in tandem with the sharpening of Caelus's attention. It doesn't strike as...alarming necessarily, though perhaps it probably should. Luocha instead finds himself reminded of the first time he sought to handle a flame somewhat like this one, the precaution and delicacy required therein. The heady adrenaline that accompanies such caution, unknown as the results of the slightest misstep might be. No, it seems he hasn't quite frayed that stability just yet...but to have piqued its active interest in turn instead--is this better? Worse? (Something that could be used?) New ground is being tread upon here. Perhaps ill-advised in method, but...
If second thoughts about this are to be had, it seems a bit too late for them anyhow. Because now there's a new factor emerging, isn't there? In the way Caelus reaches out like that. In the way Caelus looks at him like that. It had been noted moments earlier, of course, the too-quick nod and the stifled shiver, the way his body warms and eases under both the influence of the healing and the closeness of his presence, his voice. Things that had intended to fluster the young man, yes, and ply some more of those terribly honest responses from him. --Yet again, though, it seems Luocha has underestimated just how terribly honest Caelus can actually be. To say such a thing in such a forthright fashion. To acknowledge so very openly, that he's aware of exactly what this exchange likely actually is.
Yet still, he seeks to hold Luocha in place, instead of pushing him away. Encouragement, of this unkind toying, simply because--it's not worse?
Is he truly so confident, that Luocha wouldn't be any crueler later?
--This was supposed to be a diversion of little consequence. And it still is of little consequence, Luocha reminds himself, or at least...it ought to be. So long as he keeps it that way, within his own perception. Caelus's earnest admission here and now might be giving him just a moment's pause, and might be invoking the briefest unseen flicker of something like--no, not pity. Not quite. But oh, he thinks, you really haven't seen much of this world at all yet, have you? What terribly bitter things will Caelus find himself learning later? Someone probably ought to warn him. ...But that someone won't be Luocha, who already has too many other obligations upon his plate. Too many other debts to settle. He's hardly fit to be a teacher...but he can be a lesson learned, he supposes, whenever that time might finally arrive.
And this...is still fun, after all. Isn't it? Even despite the surprises, the renewed tangibility of the fire he's now playing with. All else aside, it's still terribly amusing how Caelus keeps bandying a term like "cute" about...when he's also all but embodying that description himself, somehow. Hazard and innocence so strangely juxtaposed.
(Luocha probably won't realize until later, how odd it is for this thought to emerge from what he'd thought to be a self-imposed indifference. He invited this meeting with the objective curiosity of a scientist examining a vessel, and now...)]
Hm. ...You know, sir, most people don't point out a ruse to call it cute. You really do say such interesting things.
[Tone still soft and even and warm, despite the pause preceding it. Luocha doesn't move away, though his hand does still over Caelus's thigh, as the tingle of the healing gently dissipates. Because the damage has been repaired, there, and Caelus will no longer be walking with that particular sort of limp by the time he leaves this room. ...But there's still the matter of the rest of his body, now isn't there? As had been discussed. It hasn't been forgotten.
But there's something else to acknowledge now, too, if Caelus is going to be so very forthright like this. (...Even if the temptation is still strong, to forego any remaining semblance of politeness altogether. Even if it would be so very easy, now, to simply take and take to curiosity's content.) No, no, at the very least...he ought to be repaid for his honesty. For being such a nicely pliable subject. So, even in having the mask pointed out, Luocha does not take it off; his smile is still kind, his manner gentle, as his left hand moves up to splay fingertips over Caelus's chest. Palm lightly settling right over the sultry pulse of the Stellaron within; half an appeal, half a provocation. Still leaning close enough for their faces to be mere inches apart, as Luocha shifts to meet the scrutiny of those gold eyes evenly.]
You must not be very used to having this asked, in that case...but I do wonder. Is there something that you want, right now?
i don't want to admit what's in my search history now...
Is the host himself aware of this? Not particularly, and that's fascinating, too. He can hear its voice sometimes, when it decides to speak to him — but in the moment, what it wants is indistinguishable from his own impulses. He looks at Luocha; he takes a breath. The man's lashes are so very long, his lovely green gaze so very soft and gentle and understanding. The touch to his chest is so patient, even though it could rip his heart out. And even if it's all a lie, even if this is only one of a thousand sour lessons he'll need to learn to swallow...
The Stellaron sings in his blood, rejoicing. Exultant in its purpose. Yes. Good. Desire — covet — claim. I will grant you what you wish. ]
...I want to kiss you.
[ Yes. Yes, that's right, isn't it? That's what he's wanted, this whole time. It feels so much better to have said it. So much better, even though the color in his face is heating his cheeks, and his blood feels like it's surging through every part of his body. It's on the table now, and he can't take it back. He's spoken it out loud. He's never felt more alive.
His face is tipped upward in humble supplication, like that of a parishioner at worship, but even so, Caelus reaches out. With the sort of hubris that would strike him down if he were the hero of a fable in which his foolishness rouses the gods, he places his other hand on the back of Luocha's knee, pulling him — gently, it won't work if the man refuses to budge — into his lap where he sits in the armchair. The cushion he was holding tumbles to the ground. ]
I want to touch you. [ Breathed like a prayer into the night, the low rasp of Caelus's voice hot against the shell of his ear. ] I think — I might want too much.
[ ...It occurs to the Trailblazer, much too late, that as pretty as Luocha is, and as coarse and thick and common as Caelus thinks himself — the man has a good few inches on him, both in terms of height and general physical build. The realization that Luocha is much heavier than he was actually braced for sends a jolt of irrational arousal going straight between his legs.
You know, I don't think I'm going to win, he thinks vaguely to himself, if this comes down to a fight — and this is a terribly funny thing to think, after begging for a kiss. ]
grips your shoulder....make that both our search histories tbf,
In this moment, for once, these are notes to be reviewed at a later time. Because even Luocha's own considerable command of focus is not, entirely enough, to resist the distraction of those hands that tug--of the voice that reaches his ear, weighed heavy with desire as those requests are spoken. So plainly, so plaintively. Why, look at him, already flushing just bringing these thoughts to surface. Cute indeed.
It's not surprising, at least, not this particular thing. Not when it had been fairly obvious from the moment they'd clasped hands back in the lobby, if not perhaps in little cues and lingering glances even before that. Luocha is well aware of the physical appeal he can carry, yet another tool among many to be utilized towards his own ends; Caelus is hardly the first to express something like this to him, and he's quite unlikely to be the last. ...But there's novelty in the circumstances, in this particular case. And he's being so very good, answering the question so promptly, even taking a little initiative for himself--
Yes, it'd be easy enough for Luocha to simply decline to move. But there's no resistance at all, against the gentle pull of Caelus's hands; Luocha settles over the young man's lap slowly but easily, almost languidly, their torsos pressing close, straddling over his thighs such that his weight quite promptly pins Caelus in place, eases him subtly but firmly against the back of the armchair. --Indeed, it'd be a bad time for him to be having any misgivings about the position. Caelus won't be moving elsewhere anytime particularly soon like this, until Luocha should see fit to free him. ...It's fairly easy to pass himself off as a mildly hapless and vulnerable healer in combat, yes, with a face like this. But the illusion likely doesn't hold up half as well on occasions like this one--where there's a subtle impression of core strength that keeps the merchant's posture fairly prim and balanced even despite this position, and permits only the most gentle roll of pressure against Caelus's pelvis as he settles--doubtless just enough, and just too little, to be intentionally frustrating.
The contrast in their body languages couldn't be more clear like this, eagerness now shored up against a near immaculate-seeming sort of composure. Luocha's own complexion doesn't yet flush; his breathing remains slow and even. Cues will have to be taken from more subtle tells, should Caelus be seeking them: the edge that curves ever so slightly upon his smile, the sharpening intent that flickers behind that veneer of patience in his half-lidded gaze. Luocha sighs, softly, in equal parts at the contact and the tone at his ear. The hand on Caelus's chest remains there, between them...and the pressure of his palm increases just slightly, as a flare of that healing flickers anew, seeps into those residual aches of earlier.]
Too much, you think so? My, but to me, that hardly sounds like too much at all. ...Take anything you'd like. It'll help you feel better.
[Isn't that why Caelus came in here in the first place?
The permission is a low murmur; there's just a bit of a shift, somewhere in there, from the warm affect Luocha normally favors. A rather interesting contrast, perhaps, between the illusion of choice still offered by the words...and the darker note of demand folded underneath the tone. Just the slightest bit of a hint, of the truth just below the honeyed surface. Luocha's other hand reaches to trace up the column of Caelus's throat, raise his head--tip his chin, with a gloved fingertip. The better to lean close, and press a kiss to his lips--sweetly, infuriatingly chaste.]
somehow easy to imagine him with a fluffy brush and a microphone
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