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Full glad am I to not be found lacking, then.
[And yet, even though this is normally where he would make a physical move — would lean in or kiss him or find a convenient place to nibble — he doesn't.]
I was thinking I'd start with juggling. A few limericks, mayhap. Some performative swimming. Topping it all off with the construction of a magnificent sand castle. What say you?
[And yet, even though this is normally where he would make a physical move — would lean in or kiss him or find a convenient place to nibble — he doesn't.]
I was thinking I'd start with juggling. A few limericks, mayhap. Some performative swimming. Topping it all off with the construction of a magnificent sand castle. What say you?
[Now here's a place we've never had a PC before: still on Execution Island™, just outside the doors to the Execution Bar™. After all, that's what you do after a performance, isn't it? Go wait just outside the backstage door for your leading man to finish taking off his executioner's costume and void makeup and come stumbling back out into the bright blinking light of day.
The thing is, this is just — it's just been a hell of a week on Ryn in one particular manner that Thancred really doesn't like. Injuries are one thing, of course, but all the mindfucking and perception-switching and personality-reversing and voidcalling has him more than a little worried. And sure, he's been doing his damnedest to field it as best he can, to roll with it and accommodate it and do his job keeping Rynlan safe, but at the end of the day he really just wants his elf back.
He's even waiting with a bribe. His gunbreaker coat is already off his shoulders, dangling instead from one hastily-bandaged hand.
It's warm, and carries his scent.]
The thing is, this is just — it's just been a hell of a week on Ryn in one particular manner that Thancred really doesn't like. Injuries are one thing, of course, but all the mindfucking and perception-switching and personality-reversing and voidcalling has him more than a little worried. And sure, he's been doing his damnedest to field it as best he can, to roll with it and accommodate it and do his job keeping Rynlan safe, but at the end of the day he really just wants his elf back.
He's even waiting with a bribe. His gunbreaker coat is already off his shoulders, dangling instead from one hastily-bandaged hand.
It's warm, and carries his scent.]
[when he comes to find thancred, it's clearly a little difficult. he doesn't have anything to lean on for his injured leg, but he can still manage to walk, albeit with a limp-- the trouble is the good couple hits he took from filbo's shadow. he moves slowly, careful not to overextend himself until he can actually assess the damage.
and when he finds him-
...he doesn't have it in him to take the coat and put it on fully, to pause long enough for that, but he does take it and clutch it close as he just lets himself fall right against thancred.
he'll catch and hold him. he always does.]
and when he finds him-
...he doesn't have it in him to take the coat and put it on fully, to pause long enough for that, but he does take it and clutch it close as he just lets himself fall right against thancred.
he'll catch and hold him. he always does.]
[Of course he does. It's still probably a little early for him to be overexerting himself with things like carrying Ryn outright, even given the time that's passed since he got back from his misadventure with Gideon, but unfortunately he's back in the range where Tank Behavior™ is more than poised to override good common sense.
There's something more important for him to do first, however, so he doesn't try to move them as yet. He lets Rynlan lean on him instead, holding him up and bearing the majority of his weight, and presses his lips against Ryn's head before nudging his mouth a little closer to one pointed ear.]
Tell me you're with me, isne ul. Follow the sound of my voice.
[Only, he leans a little too hard on one of the syllables without quite meaning to, so it comes out as "Follow the sound of my voice", instead. Telling, that.]
There's something more important for him to do first, however, so he doesn't try to move them as yet. He lets Rynlan lean on him instead, holding him up and bearing the majority of his weight, and presses his lips against Ryn's head before nudging his mouth a little closer to one pointed ear.]
Tell me you're with me, isne ul. Follow the sound of my voice.
[Only, he leans a little too hard on one of the syllables without quite meaning to, so it comes out as "Follow the sound of my voice", instead. Telling, that.]
...with you, belore'dalah.
[he catches that slight emphasis, and-- it always catches him off guard, this instinctive understanding thancred seems to have for what he needs. his arms wrap around him, holding on, as he murmurs a little desperately-]
Keep going.
[with his voice, he means. he can't handle quiet right now-- he'll only hear those whispers.]
[he catches that slight emphasis, and-- it always catches him off guard, this instinctive understanding thancred seems to have for what he needs. his arms wrap around him, holding on, as he murmurs a little desperately-]
Keep going.
[with his voice, he means. he can't handle quiet right now-- he'll only hear those whispers.]
I've got you. They can't have you.
[They've already had him too much as it is. He nudges at Ryn just a little, prompting for him to let go of the coat so he can work on getting it around him instead.
Strange, how for just a fleeting moment, he finds himself recalling an old memory of Urianger — of his certainty in his spell for walking on water, of seeing him plunge into the depths, of his body already moving to chase after him almost before his mind had even caught up.
This feels like that all over again, somehow. Diving after Rynlan while the deep threatens to carry him away. Pushing air into his lungs. Swimming hard enough for both of them to get his head back above the surface once more.]
Get your arms through, darling, I'll carry you the rest of the way to the ferry.
[They've already had him too much as it is. He nudges at Ryn just a little, prompting for him to let go of the coat so he can work on getting it around him instead.
Strange, how for just a fleeting moment, he finds himself recalling an old memory of Urianger — of his certainty in his spell for walking on water, of seeing him plunge into the depths, of his body already moving to chase after him almost before his mind had even caught up.
This feels like that all over again, somehow. Diving after Rynlan while the deep threatens to carry him away. Pushing air into his lungs. Swimming hard enough for both of them to get his head back above the surface once more.]
Get your arms through, darling, I'll carry you the rest of the way to the ferry.
...all right.
[he lets himself be nudged, threads his arms through the sleeves of thancred's coat and lets it drape easily around him.
better. much better.
rynlan isn't thinking of much right now, for his part-- that much is likely clear from the way he just nods a bit absently when thancred says he'll carry him, not even objecting and telling him to be careful.]
[he lets himself be nudged, threads his arms through the sleeves of thancred's coat and lets it drape easily around him.
better. much better.
rynlan isn't thinking of much right now, for his part-- that much is likely clear from the way he just nods a bit absently when thancred says he'll carry him, not even objecting and telling him to be careful.]
My voice, Ryn. Stay with my voice.
[It's not particularly easy to bundle him up and support him both at the same time, but he manages well enough before ignoring the twinge of his protesting back and scooping Ryn up into a princess carry, adjusting the placement of his arms so that he can rest his head on Thancred's shoulder, and burrow against his neck if he likes.
Also, that keeps his own face close to Ryn's ears, and makes it easier to keep his slow steady stream of chatter present for him to cling to.]
I've been writing you a song, you know. Not like the one I sang for you at the beach. One that will make you smile, I think. I know much and more time has passed since then but I could never seem to find the words. You should see that notebook I carry around; I think half of it is just scribbles of notions and then some.
[It's not far to the ferry. He keeps murmuring as they go.]
But lately it's started to come together. Funny, isn't it? You said surfal and it's like the sky opened up overhead. And you call me your sun.
[It's not particularly easy to bundle him up and support him both at the same time, but he manages well enough before ignoring the twinge of his protesting back and scooping Ryn up into a princess carry, adjusting the placement of his arms so that he can rest his head on Thancred's shoulder, and burrow against his neck if he likes.
Also, that keeps his own face close to Ryn's ears, and makes it easier to keep his slow steady stream of chatter present for him to cling to.]
I've been writing you a song, you know. Not like the one I sang for you at the beach. One that will make you smile, I think. I know much and more time has passed since then but I could never seem to find the words. You should see that notebook I carry around; I think half of it is just scribbles of notions and then some.
[It's not far to the ferry. He keeps murmuring as they go.]
But lately it's started to come together. Funny, isn't it? You said surfal and it's like the sky opened up overhead. And you call me your sun.
You have been?
[he rests his head on thancred's shoulder, taking the opening he's given, arms wrapped loosely around his neck. thancred has him, he knows, but forgive him for feeling clingy.]
...mm. You are my sun, though. Couldn't see things properly before.
[those words are murmured into his neck, the energy leaving him once he feels safe, adrenaline draining. for all that he prefers the shadow-- he needed the light, the warmth, in a way that he didn't fully realize until it was given to him.]
[he rests his head on thancred's shoulder, taking the opening he's given, arms wrapped loosely around his neck. thancred has him, he knows, but forgive him for feeling clingy.]
...mm. You are my sun, though. Couldn't see things properly before.
[those words are murmured into his neck, the energy leaving him once he feels safe, adrenaline draining. for all that he prefers the shadow-- he needed the light, the warmth, in a way that he didn't fully realize until it was given to him.]
[Oh. Oh, well if that doesn't just make him feel all warm and radiant inside, himself...]
I have been. Shall I sing you some of it? 'Tis unfinished as yet, of course, but.
[He sways them a little as he walks along, almost rocking Rynlan in his arms.]
It doesn't matter where you go or what you do / I want to spend each moment of the day with you / Well, look what has happened with just one kiss / Whoever knew that we could be in love like this? ...
[He trails off, humming the tune of the melody he's chosen, but not supplying any more words as yet.]
I have been. Shall I sing you some of it? 'Tis unfinished as yet, of course, but.
[He sways them a little as he walks along, almost rocking Rynlan in his arms.]
It doesn't matter where you go or what you do / I want to spend each moment of the day with you / Well, look what has happened with just one kiss / Whoever knew that we could be in love like this? ...
[He trails off, humming the tune of the melody he's chosen, but not supplying any more words as yet.]
[...he hides a little smile against thancred's neck, there, as he listens. maybe he can tell, maybe he can't, but-- at least ryn can pretend he doesn't see it.
whoever knew, indeed?
but what he murmurs aloud, whenever there's a break in the tune, is-]
I think it was a lot more than one.
whoever knew, indeed?
but what he murmurs aloud, whenever there's a break in the tune, is-]
I think it was a lot more than one.
It started with one, you incorrigible brat. Or have you so soon forgotten?
[It's exasperated on its face, but beneath the sentiment sits genuine relief. If Ryn's coherent enough to be a Fucking Elf™ at him, then he's surely doing all right.]
Regardless, if you object, I'll take it back to the drawing board.
[It's exasperated on its face, but beneath the sentiment sits genuine relief. If Ryn's coherent enough to be a Fucking Elf™ at him, then he's surely doing all right.]
Regardless, if you object, I'll take it back to the drawing board.
The things I do at your behest.
[Fucking Elf™ (affectionate). Playfully, he sings a few lines that clearly fit to complete the same melody that he'd left hanging before, but that are just as obviously making up new words as he goes.]
'Tis madness but it's true / I simply can't say no to you.
[Fucking Elf™ (affectionate). Playfully, he sings a few lines that clearly fit to complete the same melody that he'd left hanging before, but that are just as obviously making up new words as he goes.]
'Tis madness but it's true / I simply can't say no to you.
Really? I seem to recall you having rather a knack for it.
[But it's better, he thinks at length, to keep Ryn engaging with him like this — certainly better than just talking at him and hoping he's able to listen and hold on. If he can keep him responding, so much the better. It's that much more certainty that he's not getting lost.]
Name once you found it hard to say no to me. Go on, I'll wait.
[But it's better, he thinks at length, to keep Ryn engaging with him like this — certainly better than just talking at him and hoping he's able to listen and hold on. If he can keep him responding, so much the better. It's that much more certainty that he's not getting lost.]
Name once you found it hard to say no to me. Go on, I'll wait.
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