SION ASTAL. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sunderings) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
overjoyed_logs2017-04-16 12:09 am
sunderings) wrote in overjoyed_logs2017-04-16 12:09 am
[CLOSED] like waking up from a fantasy
Who: Julius & Sion
Where: Leith
When: W9D3
Summary: Company supply collection, nanotech malfunction, and hand-holding. Oh my.
Restrictions/Warnings: Light body horror and violence?? Will update as needed!
[ Though the Director had arrived upon Leith while its vast farmland still burned, ash falling thick as snow from the sky, it had been in the days after, and upon receiving a Company wide directive—maintain the peace—that he had again found himself at Julius' side. Had he not volunteered himself for a task in the field, Sion would have likely received instruction to move into another's office, to share a desk, but for having taking the initiative, the present sees him overseeing the gathering and reallocation of supplies; of food which is desperately needed both moon and Quad-wide. And perhaps selfishly, he'd taken Julius as escort, partner, and guard, participating in the collection of funds by paying visit to the estate which he had once called his childhood home.
As expected, the reception they'd received had been cold but polite, the distant cousins which had claimed his late father's trade empire and wealth bending not to Sion, nor to Julius, but to the uniforms they donned—the Company's influence by far stronger than blood in their noble regard. Still, Sion had smiled, cordial in their discussions of monetary donations, wishing the family which he did not know good health and prosperity despite--...
Seeming unwell to the discerning eye (Julius' gaze), agitation manifesting in the most minute of ways (involuntary flexes of his fingers, quickened breath, and a heavy aura of disquiet settling upon him where the Director is so often serene). But the audience draws to a close all the same, and after giving warm words of parting—call upon me, should you be in need of anything—they take their leave with a proffered sum of joy, though they do not make it far before: ]
Julius. [ —so soft is the sound of Sion's voice that it is almost startling, perhaps more so than the sight of that which is revealed when the Director removes the leather of his right glove from his hand: vivid gold, light limning from beneath the skin in patterns which do not mirror that of blood vessels, but those of circuitry. ]
Something... [ He gives pause, as though it were overwhelming to speak, and in a way it is—beyond the thrum of pain he bears day in and day out, there is something else, a sensation of everything in him being overturned, the programmable matter he is a vessel for coursing throughout the whole of his body as though it were a thing alive. ] ...is wrong with me.
[ And whatever it may be, worsens by the instant, the vivid gold patterning creeping up, along Sion's jawline like the spread of a virus, the glow of it just visible from beneath the edge of his jacket-collar. ]
Keep your distance.
Where: Leith
When: W9D3
Summary: Company supply collection, nanotech malfunction, and hand-holding. Oh my.
Restrictions/Warnings: Light body horror and violence?? Will update as needed!
[ Though the Director had arrived upon Leith while its vast farmland still burned, ash falling thick as snow from the sky, it had been in the days after, and upon receiving a Company wide directive—maintain the peace—that he had again found himself at Julius' side. Had he not volunteered himself for a task in the field, Sion would have likely received instruction to move into another's office, to share a desk, but for having taking the initiative, the present sees him overseeing the gathering and reallocation of supplies; of food which is desperately needed both moon and Quad-wide. And perhaps selfishly, he'd taken Julius as escort, partner, and guard, participating in the collection of funds by paying visit to the estate which he had once called his childhood home.
As expected, the reception they'd received had been cold but polite, the distant cousins which had claimed his late father's trade empire and wealth bending not to Sion, nor to Julius, but to the uniforms they donned—the Company's influence by far stronger than blood in their noble regard. Still, Sion had smiled, cordial in their discussions of monetary donations, wishing the family which he did not know good health and prosperity despite--...
Seeming unwell to the discerning eye (Julius' gaze), agitation manifesting in the most minute of ways (involuntary flexes of his fingers, quickened breath, and a heavy aura of disquiet settling upon him where the Director is so often serene). But the audience draws to a close all the same, and after giving warm words of parting—call upon me, should you be in need of anything—they take their leave with a proffered sum of joy, though they do not make it far before: ]
Julius. [ —so soft is the sound of Sion's voice that it is almost startling, perhaps more so than the sight of that which is revealed when the Director removes the leather of his right glove from his hand: vivid gold, light limning from beneath the skin in patterns which do not mirror that of blood vessels, but those of circuitry. ]
Something... [ He gives pause, as though it were overwhelming to speak, and in a way it is—beyond the thrum of pain he bears day in and day out, there is something else, a sensation of everything in him being overturned, the programmable matter he is a vessel for coursing throughout the whole of his body as though it were a thing alive. ] ...is wrong with me.
[ And whatever it may be, worsens by the instant, the vivid gold patterning creeping up, along Sion's jawline like the spread of a virus, the glow of it just visible from beneath the edge of his jacket-collar. ]
Keep your distance.
no subject
Julius says nothing, taking his seat and rolling up his sleeve to expose the bullet wound. The bleeding has long since stopped, so all that was left was to remove the slug of metal. ]
Not exactly. The cells acted as a conduit, due to how I am able to command them to exquisite levels of detail. What I used was an ability separate from them. I am able to impart my will into machines. It was named by her, a Power of Blood.
[ He looks into the middle distance while he speaks, unsure. ]
The cells... they have a different purpose. They are much like your programmable matter, save for the fact that they are organic in nature. Their innate nature is to consume everything that is around them, though I have been able to neutralize that with force of will.
no subject
[ The Power of Blood and cellular structures both, they are what Sion owes his present stability to. ]
Your heart is strong, Julius— [ And it grows stronger still, day by day, with each and every bond Julius makes: as much is evident in the other man's glimmer of a smile, the gesture manifest as the faintest curve of lips which sees Sion softly smiling too. ] —and as long as it remains true, the cells will remain in check, for you are a force to contend with.
[ Unlike Sion, who is subject, now, to the defects overlooked by those who had made him to be their marionette. That loss of control--... is something which he hopes never to experience again, but fears that he somehow will, for there had been no apparent cause, no impetus, for the happening, only the seemingly impossible fact that it had. ]
But even so... [ Moving in close, he studies the entrance wound, the makeshift bandage which had been discarded having done its job. ] ...I would still suggest that you take some form of analgesic before I remove the bullet.
You are human, and this will hurt. And with any luck, the bullet will not have struck an artery.
no subject
I will try my utmost best.
[ Though if he were to follow Sion's train of thought, then it would also present another possibility. Julius has been conditioned to ignore pain with the ease of one would ignore a small fly, but if there was a way to eliminate it entirely - ]
I have an idea. If I temporarily rearrange the neural connections, I could turn off the pain response, perhaps.
[ There's two seconds of pause as he becomes completely still, the branches within him shifting to break off some of the connections. They can be restored later. ]
no subject
[ Wait is the word which does not fall from the Director's lips, for Julius has gone still beneath his touch, all external interactions forsaken in favor of moving internally, the operation to rearrange a network of neural connections invisible to Sion's eye, but keenly perceived all the same. ]
...very well. [ He relents after a moment, perhaps two, if only because what's done is done, and by all accounts, Julius' endeavor has been a successful one: with the wound-area cleaned, the Director is pleased to find the bullet's trajectory hadn't curved upon meeting with its target, making for an easy extraction.
But still, Sion is cautious, his golden eyes flicking to Julius' face to watch for signs of discomfort in case the pain response hadn't been entirely severed, in the event that— ]
I never wish to be someone who causes you pain, Julius, but to go to this extent is another thing entirely.
[ Bullet? Extracted and set aside upon the medical tray which Sion had used to house his gathered supplies. Compression? Applied to the newly opened wound which most certainly is bleeding now that the metal which had previously stopped the bloodflow has been removed. ]
Are you able to maintain the compression while I prepare the sutures?
no subject
I can.
[ It's easy to take over - the traditional way of a compress now, instead of trying to close it from within. Blood vessels are a highly complicated structure, and they're not as easy to sense as pain, which Julius had been ignoring for quite a few years now. ]
I'm sorry. I only wished to try it out.
no subject
These motions, he goes through by route, having served many a time as a military medic (though under dire circumstance, it hadn't been a needle and thread which his hands had guided, but a surgical staple instead), but despite being practiced in the actions, there is something in him which is nervous. Anxious, as he'd been on the day when Julius had undergone the procedure which he himself had both suggested and designed. ]
Please, do not feel as though you need to apologize. It is only that I--...
[ Am out of sorts. Am a liability. Am the cause of your injury, by way of my own negligence. ]
...am worried. [ Shifting back to Julius' side, Sion bids his friend to remove the compress from the site of the entrance wound, golden eyes catching with grey in a silent bid for permission before beginning with the needle, his work measured, quick, and precise. ] So very much has happened over the course of a single day that I am still reeling and struggling to grasp my bearings.
[ Leithians, driven to looting in the onset of famine. Men and women burned by Sion's own hand before they'd the chance to stand trial. A malfunction which only Julius seemed to be capable of controlling. The Company's decision to pull out of Westerley.
All these things amass as a shadow at the back of the Director's mind as he closes the wound with a line of stitches, and though he seems not to realize the fact, he does not breathe until he's finished with his work, cutting the excess thread upon the soft exhale of a sigh. ]
My fear... was sudden, an irrational thought that you would not be able to restore your normal state of being after restructuring the connections.
[ Much like what had happened only an hour before, to Sion himself when confronted by the bandits. Were he on his own, at that time--...
Would anyone have survived? ]
no subject
Far enough to tell him the care with which his companion addresses his wound, but not far enough to tell him the minute intricacies of what would happen next. But that alone is enough. ]
You told me that I would set my own path, on that day. I wouldn't allow for my curse to dictate my actions anymore.
[ He closes his eyes briefly, relinking neurons with delicacy and a will stronger than the strength of his body. ]
I have returned them to their previous conformation.
no subject
As I said, my fear was misplaced. [ Peeling the medical gloves from his hands, he is quick to discard them, and swifter still to touch his hand to Julius' shoulder opposite of the gunshot wound, his fingers curling there in a mirror of his friend's gesture from before. ] I... should not have doubted.
[ It is only that I doubt myself. ]
But you should know that both your arm and middle back will continue to be sore. [ Ever so slightly, he huffs, introducing a small bout of levity where he deems it to be needed— ] And I've half the mind to check on your other bandages, so long as I have you upon a medical table.
Your wellbeing... it is what matters most to me.
no subject
I would be glad to, if it sets your mind at ease.
[ It is hard to transmit the startling detail with which he can perceive himself if he so concentrates, and after what had happened it might not be that good an idea to try the mental link again. It was too sudden, too rushed - and the fact that he had to make Sion bow (even if for a good reason) never sits well with him. ]
no subject
[ The Director is not unaware of it, Julius' capacity to self-diagnose; to keenly identify and separate the individual pathways of the body to the point of seeing them restructured in accordance to his own beautiful design. Were something truly amiss with the installation of the ports which Sion had created to manage the oracle cells—a collapse of tissue, incongruity in the healing, worse—Julius would be aware of it, but still--... Still, it helps to see skin healing over with minimal scarring, no hints of redness or rejection in sight, and Sion is as attentive in changing his friend's bandages as he had been in the closure of the gunshot wound, somehow reverent in his careful ministrations.
It is much, much too soon to attempt another link, with Sion still unnerved from two losses of control in swift succession (even if the second had been a willing ceding of himself to the other man), and perhaps as much shows in the way he refrains from using his own biometric scanner to view Julius' vitals.
But it is touch which grounds him, in the end, and after he is finished with securing the fresh change of bandages, he falls back one step, then two, gesturing to the living quarters. ]
I think it is my turn, now, to tell you to rest. [ As Sion busies himself with cleaning, discarding all salvageable materials, and sterilizing the instruments which he'd used. ] I will follow you after I've finished here.
no subject
Perhaps beautiful in Sion's eyes, but he remains unaware (or uncaring) of it himself. ]
Let me help.
[ He may not be a certified medic, but he can at least put things away. After putting his shirt back on, of course. ]
no subject
His body belonging to others, but in return, he'd been given power enough to help those in need of it. ]
You are as stubborn as I am, aren't you? [ Together, they restore the med bay to its former state, leaving Sion to wonder at how many times Julius had been injured over the course of his service with the Company—to boast such an array of tools is a blessing, no doubt, but at the same time equally worrisome. ] We'll rest together, then, but do not dare think of allowing me the bed while you take the floor.
[ They had laid side by side once before, hadn't they? ]
You'll sleep next to me, won't you?
no subject
Having his suggestion forestalled, it seems only possible to relent. ]
I would.
[ It seems like the right thing to do. ]
no subject
And once they reach the Captain's quarters, Sion makes short work of kicking off his boots before settling atop the bed, Julius' hand still very much in his own. ]
...when we wake, things will look better. Brighter. [ There is Sion's characteristic resolution, his certainty in the good of the world, but for whose benefit the expressed sentiment is for--... Well, it is for both Julius and himself: ] The people we left behind, I pray that they will recover from what was done.
After they are treated... I hope that they might be able to once again recline next to an important person, someone they care for most.
no subject
As do I.
[ They had darkness in their hearts, but condemnation is never an easy decision to make. ]
Rest well, Sion.
[ He turns off the ship lights using a branch and closes his eyes. ]