not out of any injury, or even having worked too hard — no, he's done his part in trying to dig people out of the rubble, trying to help the locals in the poorer parts of the grey ward find shelter, but it's not been anything overly taxing. no, the exhaustion is a familiar one, a fog in his brain, his limbs feeling heavier; an exhaustion he's not felt for a month and some change.
so eventually, when there's no more cries to be heard, no immediate crisis to respond to, when those most in need of help have been taken to see healers, remi finds the nearest pile of rubble and promptly sits down. his house has collapsed; and he'll figure out somewhere to stay, probably, eventually.
for now, he's going to sit right here, leaning his head against his drawn-up knees, closing his eyes for a moment. at least until there's the sound of footsteps, accompanied by another sound (a cane?), and instead of passing by him, they stop.
without opening his eyes, he says, ] What. [ yes, it's a question. somewhat. ]
[At some point, Oleander becomes convinced that the city in the sky is going to fall. The cities below are in peril, after all, and it's too quiet up there in the sky for comfort after about a day. There's no real logical reason for him to think this other than the sky city concept already felt impossible and risky, so why wouldn't it simply collapse as soon as possible?
He leaves, going down with an airship delivering volunteers and supplies to the relief efforts. He does take some time to volunteer, to his credit; he's not helpful when it comes to daring rescues and moving rubble, he's a priest and he's mostly fancy robes by composition— but he can pass out food and water to people in need.
He's on his way to do a bit more of this, maybe, or maybe he's done with it for the day, when he stops by the sad lump that is Remi, just sitting there in the once-street. Has he tapped his cane more pointedly than usual upon approach? Probably, yes, definitely. Hi.]
Nothing, [he says, and sighs as he moves to sit down on another piece of rubble that doesn't require him to get all the way down on the ground.] Unless you'd like me to flag down someone with a wheelbarrow to lug you to a healer.
[He's met Remi once so he's pretty sure the answer to that is no with a side of fuck off.
Anyway, he's sitting here, and if Remi ever decides to lift his head, there is a mysterious bottled water sitting next to him now.]
the way i had to google the reference because i have in fact never seen scrubs--
[ he recognises the voice, of course — had guessed who it might belong to the moment he'd heard the cane, because no one else with one would have any reason to stop by him.
he huffs out something like a laugh at that idea, and without opening his eyes, he lifts his hand to flip him off. sure, he has no way of knowing if this particular hand gesture is in use where oleander comes from, but he figures he'll get the gist of it, anyways.
still, eventually he does lift his head, his intent to ask if oleander is doing alright — he's not entirely sure where exactly he's staying, and so no way of knowing if he's also subject to having lost his house, or anything else... but before he has the chance, his eyes land on the water bottle.
and though there's an instinct to say something else, first, he looks from the bottle to oleander and sighs, ] Thanks.
[ and then, taking the bottle, ] I almost told you that this should be saved for people who've been affected by all this shit, been hurt or lost their home or whatnot. But then I realised I am one of them. [ ha ha. don't mind him just opening the bottle and drinking like, half of it in one go. ]
[Oleander gives him a look until he accepts the bottle, like, yes? Please, give him shit for his generosity, he's waiting for it.
But oh, good, he's being sensible. Oleander leans back on his hand and considers the rubble and the other few people left picking through it in this area.]
Oh, have you? What was your first clue? For me, it was finding you all but unconscious in this pile of wreckage.
[He's being considerate, okay, this is him being nice. Enjoy that water; he has another one somewhere, if necessary.]
I was resting, [ comes the response, accompanied by a baleful glare — yes, alright, so he was resting right there because he couldn't manage one more step, what of it!! he's doing fine.
and then, ] The first clue was probably my house trying its very best to collapse on me.
[ so, yes, his house! he takes another gulp of water before setting the bottle by his side again. ] It's fine. I wasn't particularly attached to it.
[ and in hindsight, he could be dead or injured, so the fact that he's neither is an upside in this. he tilts his head to look at oleander, really look at him, trying to catalogue if he looks any worse for wear than the time they met before. ] And you? Did you get through it all unscathed?
[At least he wasn't attached, Oleander supposes? He's not attached to his place in Heaven's Bow himself, but it would still be a hassle to have to be displaced into finding a new one.
He's a bit dusty, himself, but only from walking around down here. Other than that, he seems completely fine. Tired, but only a normal amount.]
I'm lucky, actually, so I've been just fine. I was up there- [he jerks a thumb up towards the sky] but I wasn't going to wait around for there to drop down here. Just in case.
[ he wasn't attached, no, except to his plants — and he does mourn them, at least for a bit... but he can get others. he can grow more. it'll be fine.
with a tired but quite genuinely relieved sigh, ] Good.
[ and then, accompanied by a raised brow, ] So you decided to drop down here on your own? [ well. he'd call that superstitious, except after everything that's happened, it's not even an unreasonable assumption. ]
It's [ hold on, he's pausing to yawn, ] good of you to help people. They do need it.
[Semantics— that's a yes, and while the islands haven't dropped from the sky yet, he remains certain that they would have if! he'd stayed up there. This particular paranoia doesn't have to follow any logic whatsoever.
As for helping the needy, well...] Yes, they do, don't they.
[Pointed; people is you, Remi. People is you. And, like, the rest of this entire city, but the point stands.]
Normally the hungry public come to me, and honestly, walking around about it has been markedly fucking awful, but it is the same as it ever was.
[ his wry tone is back, which means he can't be doing too badly — which, hm, he hears that pointed tone that follows, too, and sighs about it. ] I'm fine. Just tired. My body just needs to adjust.
[ to what? he's not elaborating; instead, he leans his chin on his hand and looks at oleander, almost contemplatively. ]
You talked about acolytes, [ he says, remembering the reference oleander had made when they were watching the bird. ] Are you a priest of some sort? You don't seem the type.
[Oleander continues to look at him pointedly, like, indeed: adjust to what? To being homeless and tired? Good luck.
Then he faux-gasps and leans back a little, hand over his chest, so affronted.]
Rude. [lol. lmao even. he waves his hand.] I was given to the Temple as a baby. I stayed on for my own reasons, when I was old enough to have any.
[He holds up an arm and flicks one of his bangles, making it spin for a second. There are many, but three of them are visibly A Set in gold, hence,] Third Envoy, which means nothing at all to you, so you can be content with the knowledge that I am, among other things, a religious scholar. Quite so.
[ what if it is being homeless and tired, what then!
that display of mock-affront simply earns another look from him, head cocked to the side, one eyebrow pointedly raised. but alright, yes, he can understand it, somewhat... and he makes a point to remember the fact oleander cites his own reasons, there, unexplained for now — but maybe he'll return to that, eventually.
in the here and now, though, ]
Hm, I can see that, I suppose. You, a scholar, that is.
[ a pause, and then he tilts back, to simply lie down on that pile of rubble, heedless of the dust and the discomfort. still, he keeps talking, ] You could explain. What Third Envoy means. If you want. [ he sighs. ] The fact that the Gods in my world are useless doesn't mean your God or Goddess is. I hope they're a good one.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
christens this inbox with hanging out in the rubble,
not out of any injury, or even having worked too hard — no, he's done his part in trying to dig people out of the rubble, trying to help the locals in the poorer parts of the grey ward find shelter, but it's not been anything overly taxing. no, the exhaustion is a familiar one, a fog in his brain, his limbs feeling heavier; an exhaustion he's not felt for a month and some change.
so eventually, when there's no more cries to be heard, no immediate crisis to respond to, when those most in need of help have been taken to see healers, remi finds the nearest pile of rubble and promptly sits down. his house has collapsed; and he'll figure out somewhere to stay, probably, eventually.
for now, he's going to sit right here, leaning his head against his drawn-up knees, closing his eyes for a moment. at least until there's the sound of footsteps, accompanied by another sound (a cane?), and instead of passing by him, they stop.
without opening his eyes, he says, ] What. [ yes, it's a question. somewhat. ]
turk and jd energies
He leaves, going down with an airship delivering volunteers and supplies to the relief efforts. He does take some time to volunteer, to his credit; he's not helpful when it comes to daring rescues and moving rubble, he's a priest and he's mostly fancy robes by composition— but he can pass out food and water to people in need.
He's on his way to do a bit more of this, maybe, or maybe he's done with it for the day, when he stops by the sad lump that is Remi, just sitting there in the once-street. Has he tapped his cane more pointedly than usual upon approach? Probably, yes, definitely. Hi.]
Nothing, [he says, and sighs as he moves to sit down on another piece of rubble that doesn't require him to get all the way down on the ground.] Unless you'd like me to flag down someone with a wheelbarrow to lug you to a healer.
[He's met Remi once so he's pretty sure the answer to that is no with a side of fuck off.
Anyway, he's sitting here, and if Remi ever decides to lift his head, there is a mysterious bottled water sitting next to him now.]
the way i had to google the reference because i have in fact never seen scrubs--
he huffs out something like a laugh at that idea, and without opening his eyes, he lifts his hand to flip him off. sure, he has no way of knowing if this particular hand gesture is in use where oleander comes from, but he figures he'll get the gist of it, anyways.
still, eventually he does lift his head, his intent to ask if oleander is doing alright — he's not entirely sure where exactly he's staying, and so no way of knowing if he's also subject to having lost his house, or anything else... but before he has the chance, his eyes land on the water bottle.
and though there's an instinct to say something else, first, he looks from the bottle to oleander and sighs, ] Thanks.
[ and then, taking the bottle, ] I almost told you that this should be saved for people who've been affected by all this shit, been hurt or lost their home or whatnot. But then I realised I am one of them. [ ha ha. don't mind him just opening the bottle and drinking like, half of it in one go. ]
neither have i tbh. but i have seen the memes
But oh, good, he's being sensible. Oleander leans back on his hand and considers the rubble and the other few people left picking through it in this area.]
Oh, have you? What was your first clue? For me, it was finding you all but unconscious in this pile of wreckage.
[He's being considerate, okay, this is him being nice. Enjoy that water; he has another one somewhere, if necessary.]
Your house, though? Bad luck.
the memes are enough
and then, ] The first clue was probably my house trying its very best to collapse on me.
[ so, yes, his house! he takes another gulp of water before setting the bottle by his side again. ] It's fine. I wasn't particularly attached to it.
[ and in hindsight, he could be dead or injured, so the fact that he's neither is an upside in this. he tilts his head to look at oleander, really look at him, trying to catalogue if he looks any worse for wear than the time they met before. ] And you? Did you get through it all unscathed?
no subject
[At least he wasn't attached, Oleander supposes? He's not attached to his place in Heaven's Bow himself, but it would still be a hassle to have to be displaced into finding a new one.
He's a bit dusty, himself, but only from walking around down here. Other than that, he seems completely fine. Tired, but only a normal amount.]
I'm lucky, actually, so I've been just fine. I was up there- [he jerks a thumb up towards the sky] but I wasn't going to wait around for there to drop down here. Just in case.
no subject
with a tired but quite genuinely relieved sigh, ] Good.
[ and then, accompanied by a raised brow, ] So you decided to drop down here on your own? [ well. he'd call that superstitious, except after everything that's happened, it's not even an unreasonable assumption. ]
It's [ hold on, he's pausing to yawn, ] good of you to help people. They do need it.
no subject
[Semantics— that's a yes, and while the islands haven't dropped from the sky yet, he remains certain that they would have if! he'd stayed up there. This particular paranoia doesn't have to follow any logic whatsoever.
As for helping the needy, well...] Yes, they do, don't they.
[Pointed; people is you, Remi. People is you. And, like, the rest of this entire city, but the point stands.]
Normally the hungry public come to me, and honestly, walking around about it has been markedly fucking awful, but it is the same as it ever was.
no subject
[ his wry tone is back, which means he can't be doing too badly — which, hm, he hears that pointed tone that follows, too, and sighs about it. ] I'm fine. Just tired. My body just needs to adjust.
[ to what? he's not elaborating; instead, he leans his chin on his hand and looks at oleander, almost contemplatively. ]
You talked about acolytes, [ he says, remembering the reference oleander had made when they were watching the bird. ] Are you a priest of some sort? You don't seem the type.
no subject
Then he faux-gasps and leans back a little, hand over his chest, so affronted.]
Rude. [lol. lmao even. he waves his hand.] I was given to the Temple as a baby. I stayed on for my own reasons, when I was old enough to have any.
[He holds up an arm and flicks one of his bangles, making it spin for a second. There are many, but three of them are visibly A Set in gold, hence,] Third Envoy, which means nothing at all to you, so you can be content with the knowledge that I am, among other things, a religious scholar. Quite so.
no subject
that display of mock-affront simply earns another look from him, head cocked to the side, one eyebrow pointedly raised. but alright, yes, he can understand it, somewhat... and he makes a point to remember the fact oleander cites his own reasons, there, unexplained for now — but maybe he'll return to that, eventually.
in the here and now, though, ]
Hm, I can see that, I suppose. You, a scholar, that is.
[ a pause, and then he tilts back, to simply lie down on that pile of rubble, heedless of the dust and the discomfort. still, he keeps talking, ] You could explain. What Third Envoy means. If you want. [ he sighs. ] The fact that the Gods in my world are useless doesn't mean your God or Goddess is. I hope they're a good one.