lotusmesenpai: (Default)
Kanda Yû (神田ユウ) ([personal profile] lotusmesenpai) wrote in [community profile] overjoyed_logs2017-01-14 07:49 pm

[closed] Along for the Ride

Who: Kanda, Lavi, & Steinbeck
Where: Traveling from Leith to Old Town
When: W3D6
Summary: Kanda and Lavi received a warrant to escort a scarback from Leith to Westerley, along with his supplies.
Restrictions/Warnings: Usual Kanda disclaimer - language.
inksplashes: (Everybody loves the original)

[personal profile] inksplashes 2017-01-15 07:56 am (UTC)(link)
[ Another bout of dreams and waking, cycles of long naps and short moments of wakefulness between. After murmuring conversation with Steinbeck, he'd given up on the prospect of having enough energy to eat, let alone make himself something more substantial than water.

Yet it's not the smell of food that has him stir with a soft groan, but fingertips that are almost like ice to his overheated skin, head turning unconsciously in an effort to recapture the feeling of cold relief.

Slowly, with more strain than he'd like to admit, he opens his good eye, staring blearily into the space in front of him. Details of the day swirl hazily in his head, normally pristine memory struggling to piece together a chain of cause and effect.

He's awake because there's food and a light touch. Before that--there was just sleep, and then talks with the uncle, and then..

The strain of trying to make his tired mind work proves too much effort, so he gives up, barely resisting the siren song of returning to sleep. Lavi blinks methodically, trying to keep his eye open despite the impossible weight on his lashes. ]


Mm.. soba smells weird. Think you burned it.

[ Disease-riddled or not, he's positive he's never seen Yu cook anything outside of soba with accessories. Whatever the food is--he hasn't mustered the will to look yet--doesn't register as either of those categories.

Maybe the uncle, then. That or Lavi is well and truly losing his mind, because there's no way Yu would cook something not-soba without losing a bet or having a warrant involved, right? ]
inksplashes: inksplashes | do not take (I’m on a new wave it’s getting visceral)

[personal profile] inksplashes 2017-01-15 09:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Staying awake would be a lot easier, he thinks sluggishly, if Yu wasn't teasing his hair. It's a surprisingly soft touch, cool and comforting, and in a different state of mind, Lavi would recognize it as a red flag, a sign that he's being too weak and open.

As is, he just mews in complaint when that hand draws back, sleepily focusing his gaze on it in wordless protest.

Fortunately, what he lacks in energy and awareness is made up for with Noah's neutral information. Fevered, but not overly so, steady blood pressure, calm pulse. There's nothing warranting any particular sense of alarm, but that the question was even asked jolts him awake a little bit more, brings sharpness to his otherwise sleep softened features.

He would do well to relocate somewhere more private until this flu passes, he decides.

Shifting to make aching muscles move, he manages to straighten his spine before there's a bowl of not-soba shoved into his hands. Abstractly, he knows he needs to eat, but the process of chewing feels like a daunting task to even consider.

Staring numbly at the bowl in his hands, he manages a weak nod. ]


Sure. Tell Stein--

[ A yawn and groan all at once, masked behind a lifted hand and pantomime of a smile. ]

--I said thanks for the soup. The waiter is a nice touch, too. Little scary though.
inksplashes: inksplashes | do not take (She said at night in my dreams)

[personal profile] inksplashes 2017-01-16 05:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ With Kanda out of sight, he's also--at least temporarily--out of mind. Lavi continues to stare at the food in his lap, trying to will himself to feel hungry enough to combat the bone-deep lethargy that's set in.

But while he makes no move to eat, he also lacks the willpower to put it away, fingers curling loosely around the sides of the bowl without the gumption to do much else.

If he could just shake this perpetual fatigue, things would be fine. Yu wouldn't look at him like he's some half-dried husk of himself or feel any need to bring him not-soba food.

(Though that's.. nice, in its own gruff way. Even if Steinbeck had been the one to cook for them, Yu isn't the sort to take orders casually. He wouldn't be bringing him food just because the Scarback willed it.)

The thought makes him smile again, a half-curve of his lips that's too muted to be the usual lie. Yu is a bastard to most people, but when he's asked how he manages to have such a partner (it's a fairly common question, actually), moments like these are always the answer. The little snippets of clumsy concern that speak to a softer nature than the other man would ever admit. ]


Mm?

[ Dazedly jerking with surprise when Yu returns (why didn't he hear him coming?), Lavi regards the second bowl of food, opens his mouth to offer a tired rejoinder about nurse maids and fretting--

"Gonna be cold."

--and then yelps loudly, the cloth so starkly cold against his fevered skin that he nearly spills the soup in his lap with the sudden change. Decidedly more awake than before, he turns his head up to mutter something irritated at Yu, brows knitted together in frustration.

Then the relief kicks in, the shock wears off, and he sighs softly, reaching a hand up to feel the quickly heating cloth. ]


Th-thanks. That's.. nice.

[ Breathing out a second sigh, Lavi leans forward enough to set the soup away, head swimming with dizziness from the sudden lurch. Laughing breathlessly, he tries for the usual tease, but the lilt of his voice is entirely too serious to match his faint smile. ]

You don't have to worry over me, you know. I just need to sleep a bit more, is all.

But thanks. It's also..nice.

[ Not that a perfectly sound Lavi would care to admit it, but having someone invested enough to mind his health? His state of being? It's.. yeah.

Something akin to "nice". ]
inksplashes: Pixiv Id 3468397 (That's all that really matters)

[personal profile] inksplashes 2017-01-17 04:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ Indeed, were he any less drained or more aware of his surroundings, he'd see the warning signs of a trap, recognize the dangerous fault lines he treads just now.

But that person, all observation, analytics, and lies--that person is entirely too much trouble to summon just now. It's exhausting to keep up the pretenses, and while it's a fight he recognizes himself as losing in this moment of weakness, Lavi welcomes defeat nonetheless.

Defeat, for now, means letting someone else get close enough to assuage his anxiety. To ease his aching body with a gentle touch.

So he lets Kanda lead him back with almost tender reverence, ghost smile still lingering on his lips. It's difficult to focus, heavy-lidded and woozy as he feels, but he does his best to watch Yu, studying him in a fevered-haze light that.. softens those normally sharp features.

Endears him in a way he's sure to blame on fever later, even if it's not entirely the first time he's thought it.

It's a sight soon robbed from him when cool digits trace across his brow, soothe the fire in his skin momentarily. Memories bubble up beneath those traveling fingertips, phantoms of an old battle stirring in the back of his mind. His body had burned with a different fever then, torn asunder by bullets embedded in flesh too young yet to easily recover.

Someone stood over him then too, murmured softly at him.

--though that time had been without threats of violence.

Lavi laughs despite himself, breath wheezing slightly. He reaches up to catch the hand dancing over his skin, pulling it down to press against his cheek as he shakes his head in weak denial.

(Not once does he consider the oddity of the moment, just how out of the ordinary it is that he's seeking a touch to comfort himself and not irritate the recipient.) ]


Mm, this feel good too. You know, everyone thinks you're so mean, but I know better. You're just..

[ Loose lips and sinking ships, all that. Common sense kicks in belatedly, silencing his tongue, hand falling away from the one he holds to hang limply at his side. ]

Sorry. Talkin' nonsense again.
inksplashes: (inside your of eyes)

[personal profile] inksplashes 2017-01-18 12:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ There's a contradiction left in the wake of those fingers falling away, a state of opposing sensations. His face feels at once overheated from the contact and yet wounded with the loss of it, the delicate patterns of retreat lingering long after Yu pulls his hand away.

It's strange, enough so for his tired thoughts to converge on the paradox of reactions, but not enough for him to delve deeper into analysis. For now, he's content with just letting it be strange, a simple side-effect of whatever trees-forsaken sickness has entrenched his veins.

Lavi's glad, at least, that Yu doesn't seem to be suffering for it in the same way. He looks.. surprisingly okay. Tired, but that's normal for him.

Though.. that doesn't really mean much, does it?

If he'd gone with looks alone, he might never have noticed the depth of the shadows under Yu's eyes. Might never have thought to ask Noah how often Yu leaves the ship to run in the wilds when sleep eludes him.

He certainly wouldn't know that the inhuman healing rate of the man's body has been declining. All of these things he knows by happenstance, by sheer luck of discovery.

Lavi frowns faintly, resisting the urge to close his eye and resuming his study of the other. Focus is nigh impossible, but it's important, too important to let himself give up.

Shifting uncomfortably, he attempts sitting up straighter, mouth opening in protest that never makes it off his lips. What does come to fruition is a sigh, wistful and soft, body sinking right back down in the chair in tandem to the cool cloth on his forehead.

It would be so easy to just sleep again..

No, this is important. While Yu is taking care of him, who's taking care of Yu?

Blinking in some desperate bid to keep his lashes from falling, Lavi reaches up to that cloth, pulls it away and makes a second attempt to sit up properly. His voice is barely a murmur when he speaks, struggling to make himself heard. ]


That's probably true, but..

[ Brows knit in clear worry, too tired yet to mask the anxiety in his face. ]

Are you okay? Really okay?
inksplashes: inksplashes | do not take (She said at night in my dreams)

[personal profile] inksplashes 2017-01-18 09:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ "How about we focus on you for a change?"

It's not that he's particularly self-sacrificing--Lavi doesn't think so, anyway. It's just the natural role of someone who's tasked to observe without ever becoming attached: to redirect attention away from himself and tend to others. All things considered, it's been easy to ignore his own disquieting visions, the spark of headaches, the fraying edges of a normally keen mind.

There have always been more pressing concerns than himself. No, it's not some altruistic nature at all, it's just another form of deception and cowardice to keep himself removed from the world.

A tactic that Yu has been consistently fighting against, though the reasons why largely elude him. He no more understands why his partner insists on sincerity than he grasps why he's been so weak to resist it.

Or, for that matter, why he can't seem to look away from the gaze so intent on holding his own.

Swallowing harder than he'd like, Lavi relents the cloth in his hands, lets Yu guide him back with just as much care and consideration as the first time. He still yearns to protest it--this tenderness--and redirect, but he's cognizant enough of his own patterns to refrain.

To accept letting himself be the one who isn't perfectly okay, if only for this moment. And maybe even tolerate the idea of wanting to be cared for, despite so many years of training bidding him shame for it.

Thus Yu gets his unlikely hope--not in the form of anxiety released or worries blanketed with those words, but in reluctant agreement not to press the point. Lavi doesn't really believe that he's half as okay as he says, but he's in no real position to argue that or do anything about it.

The catch in the other's voice, however, isn't sparred as readily. Eye narrowing faintly, Lavi summons one of those ghost smiles, weak and waning though it is. ]


Just Noah, huh? [ He supposes he doesn't deserve any better--but if he's going to be selfish in this, he might as well be thorough about it. Lavi tries to fake a hurt expression, something mocking and light-hearted.

The result is something much more honest than his original aim. ]
Definitely don't want to.. make her cross with you, then.
inksplashes: (Everybody loves the original)

[personal profile] inksplashes 2017-01-20 03:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ The whisper of fingertips, the delicate twist of digits as they move through ember-shaded fringe--it's enough, he realizes, to throw the fight for consciousness. Lips divide, words of warning hovering there, but no entreaty passes through.

Breath itself barely slips past his teeth, air locked somewhere deep in the cage of his lungs. It's not, he knows, a sudden symptom of illness, not the wicked spell of disease.

The tightness in his chest and burning in his skin would persist even in perfect health, for the force which leaves him speechless is something far more insidious and powerful. Something tender and frightfully bright; something so achingly real that it rebukes his attempts to shroud it in a lie.

But it has no name, for him. No distinct sound or word. It's not one emotion but several, twined together with threads of conflicting identities.

The only thing clear about the phenomena is the cause, the root.

The man who creates storms in his heart with each passing day, who breathes conflict through the smallest touches and glimpses of truth--that person is to blame.

And all too soon, that person is drawing away, jumping back as if he's been singed by the fires that burn through Lavi's thoughts. ]


Yu--

[ Lavi isn't sure if his voice ever makes it through the air, isn't sure if he even cares to find out. Shapes begin to lose their edge, blurring and bleeding together, the world swirling and spinning like watercolors funneled through a drain. A cool sensation on his nape tries to startle and stun him away from the precipice of wakefulness and dreaming, but he ignores it.

He is safe now, he knows. He need not react to every noise or seek measures of defense. Here .. he can rest, as he so badly wants to do.

So with one last smile, he shakes his head softly, turning away from those things that would keep in grounded in the world and gives in to the call of the deep. ]