Ugh, don't even say that name. I may die from longing.
[ She really does miss it, realizes now how important that little get away was to her. Also the food court. ]
I will take you up on a meal after the bath. My muscles are more needy than my stomach.
[ She could also do both at once, but she's sure his tastes are more complicated than that of the gallow's galley food, and probably more expensive than anything she could afford. She'd rather take advantage. ]
[Remember how we first met and you tried to strangle me with a vacuum? Good timesβ things Loki thinks but will not be saying aloud today.
Instead he just kind of chuckles on the magical line and wonders what her favorite apocalypse was but there's no comfortable or good way to ask that question so it also gets set aside. ]
You could eat in the bath, you know. [ Okay that solves it, he's at least going to grab some pastries before he meets her at the ferry. ]
Ah right, you'll be soapy. [ Ahem. ] How terrible.
[ She might be toeing a line; in his mind, it's getting obliterated in the sand by the tide coming in. His fantasies about her, nudity, soap bubbles, and eventually wearing his clothes just about skyrocketed just now.
The swallow it takes for him to pull himself together from that is audible. ]
Are you certain? I wouldn't want to put too much on your shoulders.
[ She can hear it, the way his brain almost shuts down, and she tucks her knees up a little more in her sheltered bend on the ferry, trying not to laugh audibly. It's hard not to fall into this rhythm with him-- teasing and banter and poking. Knowing that what is between them is more than just... friendship... but at the same time.
She tries not to sober herself too much with memories of the citadel, tries to push it out of her mind. She would tell him eventually. ]
Mobius said something strange to me, once, about raisins and candy. When I arrived here I asked about candy and there are... unquantifiable combinations available.
[ He'd honestly gotten a little overwhelmed at the amount of choices and still hasn't looked into it again. ]
[ That is a mind blowing concept. For once she actually feels that heβs missed out on something sheβs taken for granted. Or well, the second time actually. ]
Thedas does Have chocolate doesnβt it? Get that with whatever fruit they have. Iβm not picky.
They do; the Orlesians in particular are fond of chocolate. [ That doesn't mean Kirkwall doesn't have it; this bakery he's in even has a selection of fruits and chocolates, in pastries and without, but it's something he's noticed traveling around a little in this world. ]
Alright. How long until the ferry lands? I'm only a short distance away right now.
The fact that you ask that question deeply depresses me.
[ If she had the option she'd take him to the candy isle in roxxcart and just feed him until he explodes. She's desperately fond of candies of all types and if she had the funds she'd carry some on her here as well. ]
Let me check.
[ Sylvie untangles herself from her little warm notch, her body complaining and protesting every moment and he might hear the little pained grunt as she gets to her feet, and the hitch in her step still as she makes her way to the front of the ferry. She can see land rapidly approaching, the crisp cold wind whipping her hair in spirals and burning her lungs. ]
Not long now. Maybe a few minutes. I'll wait for you on the docks.
You have spent more time with Midgardians and enmeshed in their culture and products than I have.
[ So it makes sense, right, that she'd know more about candy than he would. Right?
There's muffled conversation on his end, with Loki buying... entirely too many sweets, and a few savory pastries just for some false sense of balance. What? He knows what he's about. ]
[ She smiles a little to herself, finding another little space to hide away from the cold until the boat docks. She shuffles out with all the other passengers, and finds a post to sit on that's shaded amongst the multicolored fishing pots that tower near where the pier meets the actual street. The wind only ruffles her here, and she tucks her legs up, closing her eyes and just for a moment...exists.
It's not something she's gotten to do...like ever. There's no timelines here, no constant checking of how long she had left, no running every minute of every day. No being hunted. Just the smell of the sea, the fish being unloaded from boats, the chimneys full of wood and coal... It was actually peaceful. ]
[ Loki has a bag full of sweets and pastries that he carries carefully as he makes his way to the docks. The ferry has deposited its passengers and left them behind, picking up new ones to head towards the Gallows; he watches the boat for a moment before he starts scanning around to find Sylvie.
He doesn't spot her at first and the panic that seizes his chest is unique in its horribleness.
So he stands there, takes a breath, and tries again. Closing his eyes helps. Remembering that she's got no reason to lie to him, and relatively few enemies thus far also helps. He opens his eyes and tries again, looking for places that are easily defensible and could protect Sylvie on more than one side at a time.
It takes him a few minutes of careful poking around but he does find her, watching her with her eyes closed. It reminds him of the train on Lamentis, before it all went to shit; watching her sleep as he drank across from her. Eventually, he clears his throat carefully (and none too loudly). ]
[ She hears him approach before he speaks, the unique staccato of his stride. The smell of him on the wind, rich shampoo and something unique, even in this human form. So when he does speak she pretends not to hear him a moment, before opening one eye and peering at him sideways with a small grin. ]
[ He's definitely gotten the feeling that she knows he's there long before he clears his throat due to hyperawareness perhaps, but, well. Politeness, or something.
He smirks at her peering, raising the bag. ]
Would you like a chocolate and raspberry puffy pastry thing?
[ It has a name, in Orlesian. He didn't bother trying to keep track, he just bought what looked good (which was a lot of things). ]
[ She kicks her legs out straight from where they were tucked under her, sliding off the post with a grace that would be there if she wasn't still recovering. Instead when her feet hit the ground it shocks pain up her leg and she stumbles, biting back a small sound of discomfort. ]
[ The expression that chases across his face is an equal mixture of fear and worry; he knows he's not doing excellent himself, after the whole fight in Val Chevin (his nose still is tender and the bruising is quite extensive elsewhere) and Loki steps forward, reaching out a hand to help steady her.
He bites back whatever he wants to say. Careful, maybe or you should have rang sooner. Instead, he stands there, with one hand out near her elbow, looking worried. ]
Come on. [ He shifts his open hand to an arm she can take if she'd like. Ever the princeling. ] Let's get a carriage.
[ It's said teasing, but in truth the arm is...helpful. Usually she could just take it easy a few days and feel fine after, but now... once the andrenline of that whole mess had worn off she had felt worse than she had in a long time. And the feeling stuck, every motion and pull of her muscles screaming and her injuries still swollen and red. She'd be fine, but this body certainly was so much more fragile than she could tolerate.
As such after a breath, she slips her arm inside his, fingers curling into the thick fabric of his sleeve, and lets him give her a bit of stability. ]
[ He's glad that she takes his arm while simultaneously being concerned that her injuries are more extensive than she's been given to admitting prior to this moment. Not that he's a healer capable of much, but he can and will worry about her.
At least there are healing items for the bath back at the apartment. Things he's picked up in the last few days, mostly for himself, but he'll happily share every treatment he finds with her (within reason and balanced out for gross factors).
Still. She holds on to the crook of his arm and he pats the back of her hand, smiling. He doesn't walk too fast either as they make their way to the row of waiting carriages near the docks, mindful of the fact that his stride is much longer than hers.
He keeps his hand on top of Sylvie's until it's time to help her into the carriage, which he does by holding out his hand for her to use as an assistant to the step-up she has to take. He gives the driver the address and climbs in after her, opening the bag and handing her a pastry. The promised chocolate and raspberry. ]
[ She's fine in the way she's always been fine, and in that she did not lie back in Triage. She's never had anyone to nurse her to health or to tend to her wounds, and honestly even this gentleness is uncomfortable and strange to her. The way he paces himself, the hand over hers, like she's something that can break. The way he offers her a hand that she doesn't take, opting instead to grasp the handle at the door with her uninjured hand and haul herself up, plopping into the stiff material and thin padding of the carriage seat.
There's only so much gentleness she can handle really.
She will however take that pastry with a slightly pressed grin, one that just lifts the outside of her lips a moment before she tucks her knees back up and the carriage begins to move. She tears off a corner and pops it in her mouth, looking out the window at Kirkwall as it passes by. ]
Of all the worlds we could have fallen into, it had to be the one without modern technology.
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[ Meals at the Gallows are...basic. She misses MSG and canned food. ]
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But a meal, I could manage to procure.
[ Not cook, mind. He doesn't know how to do that. ]
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[ She really does miss it, realizes now how important that little get away was to her. Also the food court. ]
I will take you up on a meal after the bath. My muscles are more needy than my stomach.
[ She could also do both at once, but she's sure his tastes are more complicated than that of the gallow's galley food, and probably more expensive than anything she could afford. She'd rather take advantage. ]
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Instead he just kind of chuckles on the magical line and wonders what her favorite apocalypse was but there's no comfortable or good way to ask that question so it also gets set aside. ]
You could eat in the bath, you know. [ Okay that solves it, he's at least going to grab some pastries before he meets her at the ferry. ]
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[ It's a joke, but also one that she knows is evocative. But she can't help it. There's just a line that is begging to be toed. ]
You'd have to feed me in that case.
[ Or they could eat in the carriage she supposes. ]
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[ She might be toeing a line; in his mind, it's getting obliterated in the sand by the tide coming in. His fantasies about her, nudity, soap bubbles, and eventually wearing his clothes just about skyrocketed just now.
The swallow it takes for him to pull himself together from that is audible. ]
I think I'm up to that task.
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[ She can hear it, the way his brain almost shuts down, and she tucks her knees up a little more in her sheltered bend on the ferry, trying not to laugh audibly. It's hard not to fall into this rhythm with him-- teasing and banter and poking. Knowing that what is between them is more than just... friendship... but at the same time.
She tries not to sober herself too much with memories of the citadel, tries to push it out of her mind. She would tell him eventually. ]
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Too late.
Loki pinches the bridge of his nose. ]
I've gotten to host precious few since arriving; it's not too much, I promise.
[ Ah, a bakery. Let's see if he can manage to have this conversation, breathe, and order food items at the same time. ]
Besides what sort of person would I be if I couldn't meet the needs of friends?
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I wouldn't know. [ He's the only friend she's had after all. ] I'll see you at the docks yeah? Let me know when you're there.
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You will, and I will. [ A pause. He is loathe to hang up despite knowing he'll see her soon. ] Do you like raisins?
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Mmm. Could take them or leave them.
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[ He'd honestly gotten a little overwhelmed at the amount of choices and still hasn't looked into it again. ]
What's your favorite fruit then?
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[ That is a mind blowing concept. For once she actually feels that heβs missed out on something sheβs taken for granted. Or well, the second time actually. ]
Thedas does Have chocolate doesnβt it? Get that with whatever fruit they have. Iβm not picky.
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They do; the Orlesians in particular are fond of chocolate. [ That doesn't mean Kirkwall doesn't have it; this bakery he's in even has a selection of fruits and chocolates, in pastries and without, but it's something he's noticed traveling around a little in this world. ]
Alright. How long until the ferry lands? I'm only a short distance away right now.
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[ If she had the option she'd take him to the candy isle in roxxcart and just feed him until he explodes. She's desperately fond of candies of all types and if she had the funds she'd carry some on her here as well. ]
Let me check.
[ Sylvie untangles herself from her little warm notch, her body complaining and protesting every moment and he might hear the little pained grunt as she gets to her feet, and the hitch in her step still as she makes her way to the front of the ferry. She can see land rapidly approaching, the crisp cold wind whipping her hair in spirals and burning her lungs. ]
Not long now. Maybe a few minutes. I'll wait for you on the docks.
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You have spent more time with Midgardians and enmeshed in their culture and products than I have.
[ So it makes sense, right, that she'd know more about candy than he would. Right?
There's muffled conversation on his end, with Loki buying... entirely too many sweets, and a few savory pastries just for some false sense of balance. What? He knows what he's about. ]
Alright. I'll be there soon.
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It's not something she's gotten to do...like ever. There's no timelines here, no constant checking of how long she had left, no running every minute of every day. No being hunted. Just the smell of the sea, the fish being unloaded from boats, the chimneys full of wood and coal... It was actually peaceful. ]
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He doesn't spot her at first and the panic that seizes his chest is unique in its horribleness.
So he stands there, takes a breath, and tries again. Closing his eyes helps. Remembering that she's got no reason to lie to him, and relatively few enemies thus far also helps. He opens his eyes and tries again, looking for places that are easily defensible and could protect Sylvie on more than one side at a time.
It takes him a few minutes of careful poking around but he does find her, watching her with her eyes closed. It reminds him of the train on Lamentis, before it all went to shit; watching her sleep as he drank across from her. Eventually, he clears his throat carefully (and none too loudly). ]
Hey.
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Took you long enough.
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He smirks at her peering, raising the bag. ]
Would you like a chocolate and raspberry puffy pastry thing?
[ It has a name, in Orlesian. He didn't bother trying to keep track, he just bought what looked good (which was a lot of things). ]
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[ She kicks her legs out straight from where they were tucked under her, sliding off the post with a grace that would be there if she wasn't still recovering. Instead when her feet hit the ground it shocks pain up her leg and she stumbles, biting back a small sound of discomfort. ]
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He bites back whatever he wants to say. Careful, maybe or you should have rang sooner. Instead, he stands there, with one hand out near her elbow, looking worried. ]
Come on. [ He shifts his open hand to an arm she can take if she'd like. Ever the princeling. ] Let's get a carriage.
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[ It's said teasing, but in truth the arm is...helpful. Usually she could just take it easy a few days and feel fine after, but now... once the andrenline of that whole mess had worn off she had felt worse than she had in a long time. And the feeling stuck, every motion and pull of her muscles screaming and her injuries still swollen and red. She'd be fine, but this body certainly was so much more fragile than she could tolerate.
As such after a breath, she slips her arm inside his, fingers curling into the thick fabric of his sleeve, and lets him give her a bit of stability. ]
I'll take that pastry once we're inside.
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[ He's glad that she takes his arm while simultaneously being concerned that her injuries are more extensive than she's been given to admitting prior to this moment. Not that he's a healer capable of much, but he can and will worry about her.
At least there are healing items for the bath back at the apartment. Things he's picked up in the last few days, mostly for himself, but he'll happily share every treatment he finds with her (within reason and balanced out for gross factors).
Still. She holds on to the crook of his arm and he pats the back of her hand, smiling. He doesn't walk too fast either as they make their way to the row of waiting carriages near the docks, mindful of the fact that his stride is much longer than hers.
He keeps his hand on top of Sylvie's until it's time to help her into the carriage, which he does by holding out his hand for her to use as an assistant to the step-up she has to take. He gives the driver the address and climbs in after her, opening the bag and handing her a pastry. The promised chocolate and raspberry. ]
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There's only so much gentleness she can handle really.
She will however take that pastry with a slightly pressed grin, one that just lifts the outside of her lips a moment before she tucks her knees back up and the carriage begins to move. She tears off a corner and pops it in her mouth, looking out the window at Kirkwall as it passes by. ]
Of all the worlds we could have fallen into, it had to be the one without modern technology.
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