five; video

[bloodspeaker]

[Lawd, this guy is spent. Though he usually likes to broadcast from somewhere in the clinic -- his office, a supply closet, the waiting room -- this time, he's in bed, propped up against pillows and looking weary.]

Folks, we're not exactly out of the woods yet -- as the piles of stinking rubble and even less breathable air than usual make obvious -- but I still wanted to thank everyone who stepped up in service of the clinic over the past month.

[He rubs the side of his pale mouth tiredly.]

We lost a lot of patients, there's no denying that. But we saved plenty of people, too. Saved each other. We did our goddamn best. That's worth something.

[He pauses, as though that's all he's got to say. The feed shakes a little as he shifts around on his bed, his hand finding a piece of paper with a ring on top of it. He closes his fist over the ring, curls his fingers against the paper.]

And -- for those of you who knew him ... Belthazar has gone home, to Azeroth.

[His expression tightens; he's saying this for his own benefit, as much as anyone else's.]

No one who's been there would call our world a safe place. But our cities aren't like this, and Belthazar was just a child. Better that he's gone.

[He thinks of Jericho, so recently killed in the bombing, and Syllona, constantly overwhelmed with fear.]

Better that all the children should go, if their circumstances at home are even slightly better than this.

Comments

[bloodspeaker]

Well, in fact, they do give us little bits and pieces. It's not nearly enough, though.

[He bites his lower lip.]

Belthazar--the child who stayed with me--was nearly driven mad with his hunger. I let him take my magic, which is part of the reason I'm in trouble at present.

[Vanadi's real cuddled up now, but Adra's still okay with it. In fact, he reaches out and touches the back of Vanadi's head, gently patting down the silver hair with his fever-warm fingers.]

[implying]

[ Oh, that feels good. Of course, it would normally feel good, but with the influence of bloodthistle still in his mind? It's really good. He ducks his head a little to better enjoy it, and it takes him a second to answer. ]

Mm... One of the Transports, then. We've so many resources among us.

[bloodspeaker]

[He keeps patting Vanadi's hair, but his jaw tightens at that suggestion.]

No. I don't want to take from a living source. The process of magic draining is dangerous and unpleasant. [AS YOU SAW.]

[implying]

[ He's trying to take this serious and be grim too, he really is, but that hand at his hair just feels so pleasant. It reflects into his voice, warm and a little lower. ]

If you haven't another way?

[bloodspeaker]

I'll deal with the consequences.

[Patting ever so gently. That's right. Just forget about it, Vanadi.]

[implying]

[ He really wants to continue this line of thought. It seems important. It's probably really important, actually. But the buzz of the drug in his blood is getting warmer, along with that touch, and it's impossible to keep hold of the thread of thought.

So he only makes a low noise of contentment and buries his face against that leg, hoping Adra never stops. ]

[bloodspeaker]

[Adra just rolls his eyes. He can smell the remnants of bloodthistle on Vanadi -- not acutely, but well enough that it's making his stomach churn. What can he do, though? About as much as he can do about his other predicaments. Nothing.

So he just keeps running his hand through Vanadi's hair, keeps gently tangling locks of it around his fingers.

The inevitable will come. He has only to face it with dignity.]

[implying]

[ He doesn't move, and eventually his breathing evens out as he drops off into sleep. He's warm, he's high, and someone is running their fingers through his hair. Short of sex, what more could he want? He doesn't move for a while, at least a few hours, until the bloodthistle finally begins to fade.

Then comes the unpleasant part. It starts with uneven breath, followed shortly by a frown in his sleep, and then perspiration — on the parts of his body that still have skin, at least. ]

[bloodspeaker]

[Adrasteius doesn't sleep. He's never been keen on it; he would agree with the idea that it's a little death, a thief of time. When he observes Vanadi's symptoms, his hand slides down to the middle of the other man's back. Light flares to life around his palm, and he murmurs a prayer as the holy energy limns Vanadi's body, soothing him, easing the pain.]

[implying]

[ It's about halfway through that that Vanadi manages to wake up. He'd been conscious of the growing pain somewhere, and it had twisted and darkened his dreams, so it's a little surprising to suddenly wake up to the opposite of that.

But he recognizes the feeling, and selfishly doesn't move to stop it. It means all his pain will be gone for a while, and that's too precious a gift to turn away.

He waits until it's done, before speaking in a slightly-guilty mumble. ]

Should you really be doing that?

[bloodspeaker]

Are you saying that you don't want me to? [Adra raises an owlish eyebrow, but he doesn't stop.]

[implying]

[ Hng, more guilt. He doesn't lift his head to meet Adra's gaze, and it takes him a second to answer. ]

...No.

[bloodspeaker]

[Adra shuts his eyes. His shimmering hand moves up and down Vanadi's back, along the other man's spine. He keeps murmuring as he does this--prayers to the Light, inaudible and incomprehensible. Only when he's satisfied that he's done enough does he stop, slumping down again against the headboard.]

Good as new, eh?

[implying]

[ Vanadi doesn't move, still can't make himself, and lets out a slow, happy breath as it finally fades. He still has to deal with the disappointing realities of a mood no longer bolstered by bloodthistle, but at least all of his pain has been cleared away.

He finally pushes himself up, once again dropping a hand to Adra's leg, searching his face with concern. ]

Better, really. But what about you?

[bloodspeaker]

[Adra's eyes are still shut. He mutters.]

Don't worry your pretty head about it.

[implying]

[ He frowns. He may have lost all track of this conversation earlier, but that doesn't mean he'd forgotten any of it. "The consequences" doesn't sound at all to his liking. And another thing that sits very poorly with him — Adra looking so weak and tired. He's much better when he's shouting at someone, all fired up and angry about something.

He leans in, a hand rested on the bed to either side of him, and kisses him again. ]

[bloodspeaker]

Mmmnf. [Adrasteius sets his hand against Vanadi's neck, his fingers curling into a fist. His breath hitches in his throat for a few seconds ... but then he seems to regain his senses. Jerking back (and almost hitting the headboard), he hisses.]

Why do you keep doing that?!

[implying]

[ He grins a little, pulling back — but not too far. He's still well inside anyone's space bubble. ]

I was trying to wake up a comatose princess.

[bloodspeaker]

I wasn't fucking comatose! I was resting my goddamn eyes!

[He shows Vanadi his profile, pressing his cheek against the wooden headboard.]

I told you that I was engaged. Going to be engaged. You know!

[implying]

I know, I know.

[ She's not here, though. Not that Vanadi would ever say it like that. It's better if they come to the conclusion on their own. And if Adrasteius never does come to that conclusion, well— he's been disappointed before, it won't kill him.

But still, since this is precisely what he'd been looking for, he has to laugh under his breath. ]

I think it worked.

[bloodspeaker]

[Adrasteius grits his teeth. The tips of his ears redden and curl down as he spits his response.]

So you were just trying to piss me off?

[implying]

I was trying to get you to look something other than "edge of death". [ It's a joking tone, but comes with a genuine smile. ] Really, Adrasteius, that's a terrible look for you.

[bloodspeaker]

[Adra sinks down against the headboard. He stares at the mattress as he hunches over, his chin digging into his collarbone.]

There's nothing for it right now, unfortunately.

[implying]

[ Oh. There he goes again, like a wilting flower. Well, at least it'd worked for a moment. Vanadi's smile fades, and he shifts himself to lay both arms over one of Adra's legs, head rested on folded arms. They'll be heavy, he knows, but nothing intolerable... he hopes. ]

Right now, perhaps not. But I'll help you find something.

[bloodspeaker]

[Adra smiles weakly.]

Will you? No offense, Vanadi, but you don't seem to know much about magic.

[He shifts under the weight of Vanadi's arms. It's not painful, but he does notice the discrepancy between Vanadi's weight and his actual size.]

And ... once again, not trying to offend, but you're strangely heavy for a small man.