sticksandbones | A Moment Sat With Our Sentencing

Entry tags:

A Moment Sat With Our Sentencing

Who: Dion, Clive, and Joshua
What: Someone has a nightmare, whuh oh
When: Some time after bar log and other nonsense
Where: The Inn
Warnings: Death, dying, and all that fun FFXVI stuff.

[Dion is no stranger to vivid dreams. In the days that followed his own brutal attack on Twinside, his mind had been wracked with the replay of what had happened. With each passing night, he was helpless to reliving each and every scream he had drawn out from the people he had so desperately tried to protect. Running from them had done nothing, nor had seeing the wreckage for himself. The dreams kept coming night after night.

Not that they were unfamiliar, even then. He had been on the battlefield for well over a decade by this point. The horrors of war and battle plagued him even in his early manhood. The only difference was that he could not justify these deaths.

Tonight, however, is different. He dreams not of his early battles, nor his betrayals, but of the yawning expanse of Origin. Only this time, it is not his body that falls. Ultima ignores him, an any flares Dion fires off seem to glance off of him. It leaves Dion helpless to watch as both the Phoenix and Ifrit are stricken from the air, plummeting toward the ground.

Try though he might, his wings are not fast enough to save him.

When Dion wakes, he finds himself drenched in sweat. He throws himself from his bed, grabbing his lance not as a weapon, but to help him hobble. His body is often sore and stiff after waking anymore, and so he leans heavy on it as he makes his way from his own room and through the inn. So rushed is he, that he doesn’t bother to throw on his shirt. The bandages cover up most everything anyway.

Finding the brother’s room takes longer than he would like, but before long, he is pounding on the door. There’s urgency to it, and he won’t stop until someone opens it.]

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[Dion watches Torgal go, almost managing a smirk when the hound makes itself at home. It's only what he deserves, after all the work he's done. Even Dion can recognize that. And it isn't as if Clive is going to mind.

But - wait a second.

Dion can barely mask his bewilderment. He nearly finds himself spitting his tea back into his cup. Glancing between Clive and Joshua, he forces himself to swallow before leaning back to stare at them both with incredulity.]

Did you say the Phoenix punched you?

[Look, he knows the man is a capable fighter, he wouldn't be alive if that weren't the case. But never once has he struck Dion as someone to throw a punch.

The good news, though, is that he at least settles back in. And though he is a bit more conscious of his movements now, the warmth and comfort of Joshua's form calls him in. Since there hasn't been a single complaint thus far, he lets himself ease closer once again.

It's fine. Don't worry about it.]

You say that, and yet I still feel the call to do as I have always done. If that wretch who pretends to be divine continues to threaten us, then what else can I do but lift my lance and take to the field once more?

Edited 2025-03-07 21:40 (UTC)

And knocked me on my ass.

[ He spots that lean and tries not to smirk... no, fuck it, it's 3am and he's smirking. It could be about being knocked on his ass, or it could be because Dion is leaning in to his brother like Torgal leans when he desires a hug. His eyes flick up to Joshua, he arches an eyebrow, then looks away to keep his smirk from turning into a grin.

But his tail thuds heavier against the bed, betraying his amusement, the spikes flaring a bit. ]

For that, we're all on board. You still won't be alone. We're all fighting against it, and we recently came off an attack on it. We failed but we learned enough that next time will be better.

[ He touches the large, ugly scar on his chest. Made by something with a beak large enough to open his entire chest in one hard rip. He shakes his head. ]

We'll always feel that call. But Joshua is right. The difference is the fact we choose to answer it. And, in those moments where there is nothing, then we are free to do nothing. To simply rest, and stretch our hands out to our friends.

Only because you weren't expecting it, I'd wager.

[ He sees that eyebrow arch, Clive. But he says nothing, because the lean is... It's something precious. Dion clearly feels comfortable, and he isn't about to call the man on it. But all the same, due to it being so early in the morning and sleep still vaguely clinging to his mind, he finds it incredibly difficult to keep himself from matching the lean.

He manages, but only just.

As Clive touches the scar on his chest, however, Joshua glances away. It is still difficult to look at, knowing that his body caused the wound. If only he could heal a scar away... ]

We are not bound by the will of another. Only our own. There are no schedules, no orders to follow, no protocols or responsibilities but the ones we choose. We could stay in bed and sleep all day, should we decide to do so, with no repercussions.

[The way the mood shifts is not lost on Dion. He glances between the two as best as he can considering his angle, then narrows his eyes at the wound upon Clive's chest. He hasn't forgotten the man mentioning having died here. It isn't hard to figure out what would have physically caused it, though he can't fathom what would ever cause such a wound.

Regardless, he can tell that whatever has happened, neither man wants to talk about it. He can respect that by not pressing, even if a silent note is made to kill whatever beast inflicted such a wound.

(Haha, he doesn't know)]

I'll admit... I cannot remember a day that I slept past sunrise in the last decade. [A half-smile is cracked, before a yawn abruptly breaks it. Speaking of sleep...]

It's rather easy here.

[ The yawn makes Clive set his jaw in a clench so he doesn't return it and instead push himself up to his feet. ]

Would you like to stay the night?

[ He's already moving over to the couch to push Torgal off, and strip the blankets to toss them to the floor, before getting new ones from the small linen cabinet. Thankfully the wolf wasn't on the sheets, so they're still clean. And the fresh blankets can be set on top.

It's clear he's making it up for Dion to take, and if it wasn't, it becomes obvious when Clive moves over to join Torgal with the wolf fur covered blankets to flop into the floor. Torgal is delighted, and allows himself to be used as a pillow. Clive only gets one (1) slobbery lick to the ear. ]

Edited 2025-03-08 02:17 (UTC)

Incredibly easy.

[ Especially when you find yourself up all night. Or waking up in the middle of the night, as is the case here. Joshua doesn't doubt that the sun will have long since been up by the time any of them truly climb out of bed, should the tea have its desired effect.

And it certainly seems to be, with Dion yawning as he is. It takes all he can muster to prevent himself from yawning, too, but watching Clive fuss around helps to distract him a little. Despite it sounding like a question, he's clearly not waiting for an answer, is he? ]

You can have the bed, Dion. With your injuries, you shouldn't risk sleeping on anything else.

[ He is fully prepared to take the couch, since Clive has clearly given it up for a Torgal pillow. ]

[The brothers don't exactly give Dion a chance to say no in either situation. The bed is alerady made up, and Clive is laying down. Joshua, meanwhile, seems eager to throw himself onto the sword. Or... the couch, as it were.

And somehow, Dion doesn't hate that. He's used to not having a choice, but this is different. Both men act in a way that ensures Dion's comfort, not simply his compliance. Right now, making choices still feels foreign, especially when they might yet put another in a difficult position.

Really, he appreciates it more than he can put into words.]

If you both insist, I suppose I have no choice of it. Not that I feel I will sleep any time soon. [Yes, his body is tired, but the shadows of his nightmare yet linger at the fringes of his mind.]

[ There are some things you have to be insist upon still, otherwise everyone just goes around in circles of no I insist no after you. And hearing Joshua say take the bed makes him grin a little because it's exactly that. At least Dion is smart enough not to get into the cycle with Joshua. ]

So keep talking.

[ Something soldiers would do, late at night, when minds wont silence. When the body is exhausted but the horrors of the day linger. Their future, their hopes, dreams. Jokes. Loves or lack there of. Clive reaches up to scratch Torgals head as it curls over his shoulder, his eyes closing comfortably. ]

Worst food you've ever had. Not carrots, Joshua.

[ Eventually, they will have to move so that Dion can take the bed. But while Dion is still comfortable, Joshua doesn't want to disturb him. He will let Dion lean on him as long as he likes.

In the meantime, they will finish their tea, and Joshua will revel in a fleeting and selfish comfort. ]

Eliminating carrots makes it difficult.

[ He wrinkles his nose, but then hums softly, thinking. ]

... the cakes that we sometimes had during the winter. The ones filled with dried fruits. Something about the taste of them always reminded me of my medicine.

[If they're not careful, Dion is liable to fall asleep like this. The idle chatter keeps the worst of his tension at bay, and the warmth does wonders for keeping his body relaxed. Nevertheless, he reminds himself to to stay awake, less he end up pinning his companion in a difficult position.

The tea helps, in a way. The fact that he has to keep the cup balanced gives him a task to focus on.]

I know what you refer to. They were... far from pleasant. [His nose wrinkles.] However, I have to disagree. On rare occasion, my father would request snails for us to partake in. The texture alone was... unpleasant.

I didn't mind them.

[ Sure, a few of them could have been used to replace brick in the Castle but the taste wasn't hideous. He arches an eyebrow to the disagree, then opens his eyes to stare incredulously at Dion from his spot on the floor. ]

Snails.

[ As in, the thing that the gardeners would eradicate vehemently from the Castle gardens? Clive tries to imagine them eaten and just can't. He closes his eyes again and lifts his hand in defeat. ]

I'm not even going to try to top that.

[ The moment the word 'snails' leaves Dion's lips, Joshua turns to look at the man leaning against him, the wrinkle in his nose becoming far more prominent. Snails? ]

Your father ate snails.

[ He recalls seeing them in the garden. Small, slimy things that hid within their shells. Barely enough to be a taste, let alone a bite, and considered a pest. And they ate them. ]

I cannot imagine-- How were they cooked?

With butter, spices, and wine. It is not terribly different in preparation than shellfish might be prepared. It's when they are returned to shells, slurped and —

[He trails off, shuddering viscerally. When he notices the violence of the movement, he glances up toward Joshua, apologetically. He doesn't move any further, though. He's content like this, especially when he lifts his cup for the final drag of tea.

So much for his excuse to stay awake...]

Still, though, I would like to know what disgusts you, Clive. The rest of us have shared our secrets.

Wonderful.

[ Thanks for that very disgusting mental image, Dion, Clive going to have nightmares now of that. He sighs, distraught, from around Torgal's neck. The question makes him fall silent, thoughtful and a little hesitant. There's nothing really - wait, no. A particularly disgusting dish from the Hideaway comes to mind. ]

Scorpion tail.

[ Sure, the after taste in the end was good but the initial going down. Of course he had to try it at some point. And he'll never do so again. ]

Scorpion tail...

[ Founder, the things these two have eaten. Joshua wrinkles his nose, looking down into his cup of tea. Not much left of it, but that isn't a bad thing. There is plenty in his system now, and Dion should be finished, too. ]

The things the two of you mentioned are in entirely different leagues than mine. Cakes, in comparison...

[For but a brief moment, Dion pulls from Joshua's side. The cup is set down on the bedside table. He makes a note to clean it up properly in a short while, but he's far too caught up in conversation to stand now. Rather, he settles back down at Joshua's side once more, very deliberate about it all this time.

To Clive, though, he makes a face.]

I daresay you are the winner here. [The sauce served with his snails was at least somewhat palatable. He can't imagine how one might serve a scorpion tail in any appealing way.]

Make no mistake, though. The cakes which you describe were awful. Though I would expect no less than someone so vehemently opposed to carrots, of all things.

If you two had stuck around the Hideaway long enough, you would have been coerced into eating it as well.

[ He smirks a little from the floor, tail thumping softly - which gets Torgals going as well so please ignore twin wagging going on - and snorts softly. And he sees you, Dion, leaning against his brother like that.

It's cute. It makes him vaguely feel like he's intruding, so he closes his eyes. Maybe he didn't need to offer anyone the couch.

Maybe, for once, he can use his actual room? ]

[ The fact that Dion returns to leaning against him even after setting aside his cup is... surprising, to the point that his expression reflects it quite visibly. It wasn't just happenstance, then. It was willing.

His heart trills in his chest, but he dare not speak of it. Instead, he hides his face in his cup, and perhaps - just perhaps - leans into Dion as well.

But hiding his face in his tea only lasts until he registers what Clive is saying, and he grimaces. ]

Oh, Founder. Yvan. I should have known. I overheard the man talking about a recipe for something that involved morbol vines.

Yvan?

[The name sounds familiar, but only distantly so. There had been a flurry of random names thrown about when he arrived in the Hideaway. Only precious few had truly registered. Charon stands out, same as the woman herself. And he would never live it down if he forgot the name Mid.

But no. Yvan's face and claims escape him. Probably for the best, from the sounds of it.]

You truly are an odd bunch. [He says it of both the brothers and those they call family. It's a fond tone, through and through.

That being said, there is something of a drowsy note to his tone. It was just as he feared, without a cup to focus on holding upright, he was bound to fade fast.]

Yvan.

[ Clive smiles a little as Joshua remembers, and chuckles softly to Dion in return, shaking his head. ]

A man who was trying to revive meals from the Fallens time. And many of us wish quite wish he'd have left them there.

[ He hears the note in Dions voice, and knows his brother will be tired as well again. He hesitates. He's not slept alone since he got here, yet there's a feeling of awkwardness, a feeling of intrusion, if he were to stay. He knows neither would chase him out and would argue, in fact, he stay but.

He's not blind to the lean. To the way his brothers eyes light up. And he trusts Dion with his brother's life.

He's not brooding, he's contemplating fiercely. Finally pushes himself up to stand, finding his shirt and pulling it on. Another good thing about trimming down his damn horns. ]

You two get some sleep. I'm going to take Torgal for a walk, I think. I can't get snails and scorpion tails out of my head now.

[ Torgal is instantly standing and moving to the door, hell yes. ]

Edited 2025-03-09 05:34 (UTC)

[ Ah. Dion is tired. He can hear it clear as day in his voice. It's a small wonder he lasted this long, but... he knows from experience that nightmares tend to linger. That the tea helped to soothe him this much makes Joshua feel glad for finding it in the first place. He will have to see if he can find a tin for Dion.

His brother making a move for clothing makes him pause, though, glancing at Clive with a slight tilt of his head in question. But he realizes quickly what he is doing, with that explanation. Or, at least, what it feels like to him. ]

Mm. Be careful, then. Make certain that you keep an eye out for any lingering signs of the brand. Wake me when you return - I will give you the couch.

[ Then, he turns his attention to Dion, who is warm at his side but clearly fading, and his voice drops to a soft murmur. ]

May I help you into the bed?

[Oh. He hadn't realized his drwosiness had become so apparent. Quickly, he finds himself sitting up, then standing. There's guilt evident in his face, and he looks from the man, to the dog, and then back again.]

I did not intend to kick you from your own quarters. [Look, he knows it isn't technically Clive's room, but it's close enough.] If anyone ought to leave, it's me.

[It's only seconds after he's spoken that he realizes Joshua had also spoken. Thanks, he'll be remembering that quiet tone for a long time to come. Just, you know, after he stops feeling so bad about it.]

I did not mean to cause such a disruption to everyone's habits.

[ Clive blinks a little at the sudden motion and raises a hand, his brow v'ing together as Dion stands. He should have realized the other would immediately throw himself onto his lance. Instead he points to Dion, then to the bed. ]

Sit back down.

[ Torgal sits and Clive really wants to pinch the bridge of his nose. ]

Not- [ Sigh. ] Good boy, Torgal. Dion, rest. You're welcome to stay here with us, I'm just taking Torgal out for a walk. Unless you want to teach him to use the bathroom?

[ He arches an eyebrow, then his gaze softens. ]

You're not a disruption.

[ Dion standing makes Joshua falter, sitting aside for a moment to look up at the man. He parts his lips to speak, to protest and assure that it's all right, but Clive has it first.

Torgal is a very good boy. He can't help but smile, but only for a second. ]

Yes, Dion, you aren't a disruption. Nor are you a burden. We offer because we want to help.

[ He pats the bed. Sit? ]

[The tension in his chest gradually ebbs. Had he simply overreacted? He could have sworn Clive was simply lookinge for an excuse but...

He sits down on the bed, shaking his head as he does.]

It would seem I am still the slightest bit on edge.

[He tips his head to Clive.]

By all means, please attend to Torgal. [A nod to Torgal too, before looking to Joshua.]

Are you certain you do not wish for me to take the couch? It is of no inconvenience to me.

A Moment Sat With Our Sentencing

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