(no subject)

[imatreenow.livejournal.com]

Who: imatreenow and whats_a_sneeze
What: Ain't no rest for the wicked
When: November 4th
Where: Some....where in the village
Summary: Mithos returns from the dead (nothing new here). Sayo finds him and offers her help - he couldn't hide forever. ...But what to do with him now?
Rating: No more than PG

[It’s déjà vu, waking up sprawled out on his side with his last recollection being one of dying. Even the white cotton New Feather pants are the same, and the underlying anger that rises up quickly once the sluggishness of suddenly coming to in very different circumstances than the ones left behind passes. Mithos pushes himself up with his hands. Gingerly, his fingers brush over a newly formed scar on his torso – one of several courtesy of Yuan. His expression darkens in the way that only his grudge can cause. The next time he sees that miserable traitor, he owes him. Big time.

He stands.

Or rather, he tries to, but the command gets lost somewhere on the way to his legs. One readily kicks out; the other refuses. He stares down at it, mind buzzing. He hits one hand across his thigh. Nothing. Not even the pins-and-needles tingle of shaking off numbness. He tries again, striking harder.

It might as well not even be attached to his body. This is where his expression turns to one of blanched panic. Another attempt at standing up, more frantic – the right leg begins going through the motions, but it’s useless without the other. His eyes dart around, trying to figure out where he is. His journal – where’s his journal? He can contact—

It’s sitting right where he left it, at the house. Up a creek without a paddle. He has to get out of here; he can’t stay out in the open where anyone could happen upon him like this. ...He still has three good limbs, and he’s nothing if not persistent. If he can support his weight on his one functioning knee, and drag himself with his arms...]

Comments

[imatreenow.livejournal.com]

[He, on the other hand, hasn't been able to stop thinking about how bizarre this all is, this whole time. Still...underneath the uncertainty and tension there's a small bubble of comfort. He tries not to dwell on it too much, but it isn't going anywhere.

With the boots now on his feet (the left one was frustrating...more like trying to put a shoe on someone else's foot, which is an unsettling thought), he straightens up in his seat. His eyes fall on the crutches, and he looks back up at her.]

...For me? [which is a dumb question, but he can't help it. He is not used to people being this helpful. Or helpful at all.]

[memoryboxes]

Of course! [nod, nod] They'll be much better than some stick outside, I think! And hopefully more comfortable...

[imatreenow.livejournal.com]

[He takes them, finding it much easier to climb back to his feet with their support. She's right - much more comfortable.

...

...Now what?]

1/3

[memoryboxes]

[8D YOU KNOW WHAT]

Right! Then let's go home; I had some thread I was going to try—

[memoryboxes]

AH!! I left the thread I bought on the ground....!

[SAYO YOU FOOL, HOW WILL YOU ENJOY YOUR WEAVING NOW.]

[memoryboxes]

...

W-well, that's alright! I have a big jar of dyes that I was going to try out, anyway....!! I always have so much stuff sitting around to dye...

Do you have anything else you need? I'm all stocked up on food, so if you're hungry, you can have whatever you want there...

1/2

[imatreenow.livejournal.com]

['Home'... Something about that words wedges deep inside him. The feeling of belonging somewhere, something he's never felt in his life. He isn't sure what to think about--]

[imatreenow.livejournal.com]

[--Ah. He remembers her dropping the thread to help him, but hadn't paid attention to it at all. He was a little preoccupied with everything else. Welp.]

No, I don't need anything else. [from the store, anyway. He'll have to write out a list of things he needs from his house... Oh, hello there well-timed tummy grumble.]

[memoryboxes]

[.......... |D Heh. She beams.]

Alright! Let's go, then! I'll make you something filling! Perhaps some fish? Ah! Or Oden! I just re-learned it the other night, actually. I think I can make it much better this time around.

[imatreenow.livejournal.com]

[and he turns away, somewhat embarrassed but trying not to look like it. The doting is almost too much to handle, too weird.]

...Either is fine. [he'll let her lead the way once they get out of the shop, even though he still remembers exactly where to go.]