Tourniquet. (Cian)

[Seodai]

"You're clearly a beloved one," he remarked, idly skimming his fingertips across the lovely ivy dancing along Noc's ribcage. It was that mark Seodai loved most, as he knew and loved it's Creator. "I will pray to Bala for you, healer. And to anyone else you ask, only name it." Without hesitation, Seodai pushed his fingers through those dark, twisted curls which obscured Noc's vision. He continued wiping away the blood until the unhealthy pallor of the healer was revealed only beneath a sheen of moisture, scarcely tinged pink. The mere color of the water into which he dipped his hands made Seodai feel a bit nauseous, but he felt indebted to this man who had saved him, at apparently great cost. "You feel terrible," Seo commented, as he finished with his gentle cleansing. "And you need to get off of this floor. I am well, thanks to you. Let me help you. When is the last time you've eaten?" Seodai was normally backward and uncertain around new people. Cian Noc didn't seem to count, though. Perhaps it was because Theo had been tossing around his name for weeks on end, or perhaps it was because he was occupying a role in Seo's life that had always been a familiar one. Master Jarret had always been gentle and kind to Seo, who thought of him as something like a grandfather. And so, perhaps the role of physician was endeared enough to Seodai that Noc automatically reaped the benefits. Or, perhaps it was the caretaker in Seo. Noc had made him well, how could he not attempt to help out in return?

[Caelum]

It took a while for Cian’s astonishment to dim, dulling against the passage of time. It left empty words in his mouth as Seodai washed the blood from him, a hint of wonderment in eyes that finally closed in a series of heavy blinks. Stirred from a somnolent state of shock, he shifted back against the cabinets to better sit up and shook off a fever chill with a quick shake. People were rarely this close to him. Physically they were, of course and all the time by nature of his vocation, but this was more to do with than mere corporal bodies. He was not a holy priest for lacking a certain wealth of insight. “I, um, this morning,” he climbed his way blearily through the words while a smile grew strange on his mouth. “I ate this morning. Bala,” and he rubbed a hand down his own ribcage while summoning the energy to get his feet back under him. “Bala is good. Perhaps, Seodai, you might try Nysel.” Eyebrows rose a touch even as he grasped Seodai’s shoulder, made stable by the divine work channeled through his hands, and with that grip moved to stand. “Dreamer that I wager you are,” he went on with a bit of jest to a deepened drawl. “The stories souls have to tell, well, it’s a matter close my heart, isn’t it? What with all this madness going on in our city.” He hesitated, studying the younger man’s face. “You are feeling alright, aren’t you?”

[Seodai]

"Nysel," Seodai echoed softly, even as he pulled the weary frame of the healer into his own and coached him into a standing position. "I will, Noc. For you." He said little else for the next couple of moments, as he guided Cian away from the mess that had been his arrival, his wounds. They were rather similar in physical composition. Lean, slender, but somehow well-muscled and strong despite the lack of outright bulk. Cian Noc was much easier to assist than some of the animals Seodai had to deal with, what with the way he melded so snugly into Seo's side. The young farmer focused on his task and his charge, only breathing a little hard once he'd managed to drag Cian up the stairs to his personal chambers and deposited the newly cleaned healer onto his own bed. Chest heaving just a bit from his exertion, Seo looked around them. It was incredible to Seo, the mess. Everything was so ordered, so tidy on the farm. From the rows of half-runners, the tall corn stalks, to the strawberry vines crawling about beneath them. They had precious little space upon which to support an entire community, and so keeping things where they belonged was a priority. They were creative with space, and it bled over even into the small house that he shared with his Uncle. Things just made more sense when they were neat, and they lived so much of their lives pouring themselves into the field, it wasn't difficult to keep their presonal space neat too. Cian Noc obviously did not subscribe to that philosophy. There were books and clothing scattered all about, as well as strange knickknacks and things Seo couldn't even identify. He felt the strong urge to dive in, to fix it, to straighten the mess. Instead, he glanced back to the healer. While Seodai had taken the time to purge his own blood from every exposed inch of the healer, he had neglected to clean it from himself. His wounds were whole again, but he was an absolute mess for the experience. He hardly seemed to notice, though. His concern, incredibly evident in his blue eyes, propelled him. "Yes, quite well, thanks to you," he finally answered. He perched on the edge of the bed, reaching a cool hand out to touch that brow again. "Do you have something for fever, Cian? And you needn't have done this to yourself for my sake. What can I do?" The notion of not helping wasn't one that had even occurred to Seodai. He felt responsible and, having received the gift of life from those trembling hands, Seodai was hardly willing to walk away from an injured soul. He didn't get out much, and he was usually terrible with socializing, but Seodai was still an incredibly sensitive, kind young man. Theo had raised him to be as much.

[Caelum]

“Bid Him send a dream walker to fend off the nightmares,” Cian suggested with a laconic smile before crawling into his bed. It was a tangled mess of quilts and pillows, a comfortable nest for the healer as was the whole of the clinic’s attic. He knew people found his mess atrocious, but Cian was a man who liked having things, and having places to put them. Boundaries and borders were disliked and one might imagine that when he slept he was like a cat and took up far more space that ought to be possible by the laws of physics. Besides, he knew where everything was and could find anything within a reasonable stretch. Mostly. It had been theorized by Elsie who attempted to keep house for him betimes that it was a mirror effect. Cian Noc was a mystery to the Denvali even after eight years of living and working in their community. He was terribly together personality-wise, stable and easy going, determined and unwavering from his calling. The chaos of his personal belongings was a reflection of the deeper layers, those that went farther than the Opal Order, than Denval, than physician and priest and right down to the bones of the man he had been versus the man he had become. A hand crawled down to tug at the laces of his boots and shuck them off one by one, inevitably leaving them in a disorderly heap on the floor. “Um, there ought be an amber glass vial on the shelf. Erm,” he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Third shelf down. Next to a blue jay feather. That’ll do me just fine.” Flopping his head back down against a pillow, his mouth quirked back towards a smile. “Stop worrying. I’ll be alright. This has been going for awhile.” Since the mutilated body of Mihai was found on the steps of the Order of Radiance. “And I’ll make that potion for you. It’ll be fine, Seodai. We’ll all find a way through this.” He paused, and then said, “You look like crap. You can use my wash room, you want. There’s some extra shirts in the…” He waved a hand in the direction of the wardrobe with ajar doors.

[Seodai]

Seodai was already on his feet and rifling through an odd assortment of things for the feather by the time the healer commented on his appearance. His fingers closed on the precious amber vial, and then his kind blue eyes dropped. He had become so absorbed in Cian that he had forgotten how abusrd he must look. As if he had been swimming in blood. Seo cringed at the sight of it, mostly dry and brittle agaisnt his skin. The coppery scent still filled his nose and, for a split second, there was only the nausea that his old foe resurrected at their every meeting. "Ehh..." was his verbal response. Whether it sounded disinterested or not, Seo stepped over a pile of books to accept the offer. After all, if he found himself so repulsive, how must someone else see him? Seo slipped down the stairs far more quietly than they had ascended them, and sought out the reprieve Noc had offered. He was gone a short while. When his head bobbed back into sight, it was wet, his golden hair darker for the moisture and curlier for his attempts to dry it. His torso was still bare, and remarkably less appalling than it had been - first with the nasty wounds and now, then healed but blood covered. In fact, he was squeaky clean, with droplets of water still running along his lean frame. "Had to wash all m'stuff out," he explained sheepishly once it became apparent that he was clothed only in one of Noc's towels, wrapped tightly and low upon his waist. In his palm was still the precious vial, and he seemed to think coaxing it into Cian's mouth was more important than perusing the offered wardrobe. And so, with bare feet, Seodai crossed the eccentric and cluttered space until he could sit at Noc's hip again. The combination of water and evening air had raised gooseflesh all along his golden skin, but the farmer didn't shiver nor complain. His smooth, handsome brow was furrowed in concern as he reached out to smooth Noc's messy hair back yet again. It was almost damp this time, the feverish clamminess immediately obvious to his gentle hand. "Everyone needs someone to worry over them," he asserted lightly, even as thumb and forefinger worked the small plug out of the bottle in hand. "Here. Drink up."

[Caelum]

Cian had sunk into a thin skinned daze, the strange coating of a building fever flushing through him. He had curled up loosely on his side, stripped by Seodai's concern down to trousers and his own dislike of foot wear of boots. Queer lights pirouetted on the backs of his eyelids, sprinkled there by the sun filtering in from the window and the shuttered doors leading to his beloved if rickety balcony. At the dip in the mattress and the feel of a hand against his brow, he mumbled something incoherent. Indeed, it was not in Denvali or any other language commonly spoken on this lonely end of the earth. His eyes opened to slits to focus slowly on the younger man's concerned face. It left his mouth twitching as he took in the state of Seodai's undress. "Haven't you heard?" He japed even in his wane state. "I slut around with everyone. Both sexes. You're a bloody temptation, mate. Put on some clothes," that last was a grumble into his pillow where he had managed to bury his face about half way through that. It took a few more heartbeats to realize he was being handed the medicine he had requested fetched and, so, heaving a sigh he lifted his head again and made a grabby hand at the amber vial. It was scarred and puckered, that vial, but sturdy somehow all the same. "M' fine," he asserted. It was probably time to note that Cian Noc was absolutely the worst patient in the history of the world.

[Seodai]

Seodai flushed a lovely color of pink at Noc's bold assertation, but he hoped the healer was too oblivious to notice. He made a snorting noise in response, reaching to chase away a hair that had fallen across Cian's lips. "Not 'till you take it. Can't chase me away that easily," he teased lightly, though he was apparently quite serious about his intent to stand guard until every droplet was swallowed. Only when he was satisfied did Seodai slink away from the bed, feeling suddenly bashful as he clutched the knot of the towel and looked with some perplexion at the mess. He found the wardrobe, but the inside of it was almost as insane as the rest of the room. Eventually he scrounged up a pair of pants and, casting a glance back to find Noc's eyes closed, dropped his towel. He slid into the healer's clothes, only to find that they did not fit appropriately. They were of similar build, but Seodai apparently tapered to a smaller circumference about his waist. They fell incredibly low, the bony jut of his hipbones sticking out above the fabric. He rummaged briefly for sometihng to serve as a belt, but soon gave up. Instead he stepped over a book here and a knicknack there in order to make it back to the bed, hardly more clothed than he had been with only the towel. It had never occurred to Seodai that he might be a temptation to anyone, and so the notion of finding a shirt hadn't really crossed his mind. He spent most of his life in just his trousers. "How about a drink? You've got to be hydrated, right?" Seodai leaned over to press his lips to Noc's brow. Not so much unlike a kiss, except that he was really just testing the warmth of the other's skin. Lips were so much more sensitive to temperature than fingers, which were dulled from their daily work. "How long 'till it works?" he asked, sounding worried. "I'll get the cloth again, wipe you down 'till it does..." And so, crack of his arse peeking out of too large pants, Seo stood and began navigating his way out of the messy room to do just that.

[Caelum]

Behind closed eyelids, fever simmered, cooking up strange illusions when Seodai's lips pressed to his brow. It was of a memory he had forgotten about, long ago in a place far, far from here; and he breathed out slowly while shifting in iron limbed sickness. "It'll work," he thought to promise. That was a fail safe potion in the amber vial, reserved for the most dire of occasions. Of course, Cian had not imagined he would need to take it himself. "S'not gonna kill me," he added on a mumble, there existing a highly functioning piece of his brain that only death itself could turn off. The spangled grace of the gods chaining him together inside was surety of that. "Water," he added. "Sleep. Seo," and here he fought his eyes back open, glassy as they had grown, to follow the younger man's trespasses through his room roosting in the clinic's attic. "Seo," he said it again. "Stop worrying. No, I mean you should be worried for somewhat else." Thoughts were juggled clumsily, held up and discarded. Breathing in Denval air, listening to the crash of the sea against the rocks a long fall below, he had thought of something, something important. "Seo," he tried again. "It's not outside."

[Seodai]

Becoming more familiar with the nooks and crannies of this place which the healer inhabited, Seodai made a quicker journey of retrieving water and cloth. He had, in fact, managed to hear most of the feverish murmurings of his savior turn patient. The farmer, who by trade had learned to be more than patient with nearly every endeavor in life, immediately set about his work. Calloused fingers were gentle, cool, especially when compared to the blazing heat of the skin he stroked. Soft fabric, cool water, his fingertips. They all worked tirelessly to seep the heat out of the handsome healer's frame. The last comment was puzzling, and Seodai leaned closer. His breath was cool as he expelled it across the moisture he had spread along Cian's neck, adding extra chill. "You're not making sense, healer," he replied quietly. "What should I be worried for? What is not outside?" The scarcely intelligible jabber of the sick man kept Seodai company as he remained steadfast in his work. The warmth of Syna kept him company, her golden rays shining in the myriad windows Noc had in his dwelling. "I should think that Leth will be more welcome company," Seodai said, speaking in that way of detached comfort. As if he wasn't entirely sure Cian could hear him, but he would provide the soft intonation of his voice nonetheless - consistent reminder of his steadfast resolve to see the other through this. "Chase away the heat Syna is bestowing upon you. As if you don't have enough, burning you from the inside..." Seodai was worried, even if he'd been urged not to. His young hands were persistent, even when the amber liquid began to cool Cian as well. "But she is lovelier, isn't she? Daylight's kiss," Seodai sighed into curly, damp hair, leaning down to test the temperature of his healer with another press of smooth lips to his brow. Seodai did not like darkness, where secrets and dangers were apt to hide. He much preferred the blinding glory of Syna, and the life-giving urgings she cast upon all of his toil.

[Caelum]

Daylight shattered like a fist punched through glass. It did so the moment Seodai's lips touched the priest's feverish brow and with a sound so resounding that surely it was heard in the streets of Denval below. It was deafening for Seodai, ringing against the walls of his skull and rattling through the rest of his skeleton until he could but collapse upon the fortunate give of the bed. Streamers of light writhed through the young man's vision, flaring up like comets only to disintegrate like the same. They were the visible replica of the undulating din in his ears, crashing fragments of conversation, pieces of prayer and broken bits of banal screams. There were hands on him, soft hands but desperate. Calloused hands, but slipping. Scrambling. Sliding over his shoulders, his legs, fighting to gain a good grip before vanishing as if jerked away by the cosmos itself. The Opal Clinic, Cian Noc's attic room, indeed even Denval had disappeared in this sensory chaos working up a storm within Seodai. Blood of Denval blood, flesh of Denval flesh. The clamor dulled and the cyclone calmed, leaving Seodai flat on his back on a rocky shore. Sand pillowed his cheek and seawater lapped at his bare feet, a lonely bit of sea weed tangling about his ankle limp and cold. The sky curved steep above him in an unholy shade of sickly green and in the distance poked the darker shades of Denval out from the hulk of mountains. All the lights there were winked out. "Seodai," a voice said, a shadow spilling over him. "Seodai," it sounded again and when the young man opened his eyes he would find himself peering up through afterimages at the face of Cian Noc. There were no marks of gods upon it.