sticksandbones | EVENT & TDM 022

EVENT & TDM 022

WAKE UP

Being out in the woods is, for some people, an ordinary day. You may or may not be one of those people — you almost certainly don’t remember going camping, do you? — and yet you emerge from a tent and think to yourself, hm, that’s quite odd! Where is the nearest civilization anyhow? If you’re brave enough, perhaps you set out to seek it, walking toward where you think you hear noise in the far distance. It sounds a bit like cheering. A party? A bonfire? You can’t be certain, not at first.

As you step onto the worn trail, something nearly clocks you right in the head. A nimble dodge to the left and a quick glance at the ground tells you that it’s some kind of tree branch made of… flesh? It’s certainly flesh-textured, though the colour is a deep blue that glows white. It seems to be rapidly rotting into the ground, and as you look up… a giant, several hundred foot tree of a similar eldritch makeup is falling apart before your eyes. Your walk back to civilization will be full of dodging probably-dead flesh tree bits.

Should you make it in one piece, the source of the noise becomes obvious: the people making up this small town are cheering and yelling about something else of eldritch makeup. It seems that some of the creatures who have lived in this civilization’s river for the last year, the Seaborn, have decided to evolve to be capable of flight. Some residents of this town seem extremely enthusiastic with this. Some are wary. Some simply don’t care.

You? Well, that’s for you to decide.

Welcome to the eldritch horror fae woods, dear friend. Enjoy your stay.

A SNAKE IN THE GRASS

While the black fog returns, some paths are left clear, or at least not as impacted as other areas of the woods. Mist fades in and out, and even if you aren’t one for nature, surely exploration can sing its siren song when the size of the town is too small and all the faces look the same. Paths line themselves with daffodils and chamomile flowers, with arctic poppies and clearings of wildflowers- foxglove and lavender especially prominent. They’re lovely, all of them, and bloom far more rapidly than anything else should be this early into spring, this late into winter, but they do.

But something creeps beneath the flowers, and something large digs through the earth, leaving upturned grooves in the dirt and grass, trails of flattened mud and roots with only bushes of camelia on the outskirts left behind. It’s quiet in the forest, not even birds singing. It makes the hiss of tongues all the more noticeable.

If you’re lucky, you might see a purple and grey stone shift in the distance, gone just as quickly as it was there. If you aren’t, you don’t see its much smaller, flower-patterned counterpart strike from the shadows. Snakes are working their way into the Grove, hiding in bushes and under steps, anywhere they can lurk and strike the unsuspecting, and their bite is venomous.

One bite brings excruciating pain, bone-deep cold, an increased frailty of the body and hallucinations. A second bite brings a deep, nightmare-filled sleep. A third bite brings death. All of them scar with a black sun over the bites, a mark of divine wrath — the Fallen Sun sends his regards, and his hate.

Those who perish to the snake bite will awaken in their bed in a few days, feeling nauseous and weakened, but…

'NEATH SERPENT'S GAZE

… This simply isn’t tenable. Between the paranoia and the snake’s stealth, it’s hard to feel safe outside of your home, and maybe inside, despite the fact that once again your homes offer refuge from the forest’s attacks—they hadn’t once upon a red, hot summer, after all. How did they face this last time? It was a flower, wasn’t it? And the new flowers in the forest seem special, if only because of their strong growth compared to the rest of the forest.

But if you go into the woods, two large stone snakes wait, ready to protect the natural gardens. Breaking them does little but slow them down for a time, and their bite is both larger and their venom stronger—the true version, the one that crippled a household in seconds. The severity of the symptoms are worse, murderously so, but survivable if it’s not the third bite.

They block the way, ambush would-be travelers, coil around the flower patches, and will not be stopped. Does this confirm that the flowers could help? Or are they simply protective of their master’s property? Is it play?

Regardless, they wait and watch.

CITIES & BONES

When all the violence of the month ends, and thank goodness for that, you decide to head to bed. For once, you might sleep well — there are no threats of snakes making you wonder if you or your friends might die tomorrow, and the Grove as a whole feels much safer. It’s as if someone or something is guarding over it — different from the Guardian Deities and the Goddesses as a whole.

For the next several days after the snakes disappear, your dreams are strange, as if you’re receiving a vision from another world. A modern city, so different from Aldric’s Grove that you’re not entirely convinced it lies in this dimension, blinks in neon lights behind your eyelids. Between the cacophonous sounds of motorized vehicles rushing by, the din of people talking in a language you don’t understand, and the distant electrical humming from the street lights, perceptive dreamers might hear something else:

The soft clacking of dry bones.

Spark Notes

summary

Wake up: You were apparently camping. You don't recall this. As you head out toward the sound of civilization, bits of giant blue flesh-tree nearly hit you in the head. You'll have to dodge the remaining flesh tree bits as it crumbles while you walk back to town.

A Snake In The Grass: Flowers spring up far too early in the season, and the fog wall returns. Purple and grey-coloured stone snakes begin to attack from the bushes and flowers where they're hidden. One bite brings cold and frailty, a second bite brings nightmares, and a third bite brings death. All bites scar with a mark of the Black Sun.

'Neath Serpent's Gaze: You've heard of a flower that can cure the poison, but to get there, you have to face two far larger stone snakes who are guarding over nature here. Whether they want to play or simply kill isn't clear. You're in danger of death either way.

Cities & Bones: While you sleep after the snakes disappear, you'll have strange dreams that feel like visions and feel watched by something safe and kindly. While your dreams are absorbed in that of a cityscape that feels almost too real, you can sometimes hear the clattering of bones.

out of character

Welcome to March's TDM and Event! Spring is springing and we've got a lot of really cool events coming up in the next few months. The magic system should debut this month as well, which we're very excited about. It is a slow process but the rewards should be well worth it.

updates

Any potential updates, such as characters damaging something important or whatever else, will be put here.

submissions

❖ Questions
❖ March Plotting
❖ Past Life Plotting (Closed to Game Members)
❖ Investigations

code

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It takes a long few seconds for Dion's eyes to settle on Joshua's form. At first he isn't quite sure what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. As consciousness brings rational thought, though, he finds himself able to draw some conclusions. He's in the Rosfield's room, if the dog hair and books are anything to go by. Moreover, it's been some time since he'd fought the snakes — the exhaustion lining Joshua's face is clear evidence of that.

At once, the guilt hits him. Not only has he been taking up their space, but he's clearly brought no small amount of grief to the man before him. He can't help but be reminded of his own desperation some time prior, how he had begged Joshua to keep him from such grief. Now, he had done the same.

And yet despite his growing feelings of internalized anger and self-loathing, something warm yet rises up. Joshua still manages to look near ethereal while sleeping. It isn't quite peaceful, considering the fact that he looks so tired, but it's something close to that.

He doesn't realize he's reaching out until it's too late. His fingers stroke the same spot they had before, though without the cruelty of streaking blood over his face. This time, he isn't lost in the feeling of desperation and pain. Instead, he feels warmth and... something he doesn't dare name, trickle through him.

His fingers continue back into Joshua's hair, tucking stray strands behind an ear. He doubts it comes anywhere near soothing the grief that's been shouldered for however long Dion slumbered, but he can yet hope it provides some kind of respite.]

[ The shifting of the bed didn't wake Joshua, and for a moment, it nearly seems like the touch doesn't, either. But it's the feel of hair being smoothed behind his ear that finally begins the process. Joshua pulls in a slow, deep breath through his nose, which then proceeds to wrinkle slightly at the bridge for just a second. His eyelashes flutter as he struggles to open them, but the gargantuan effort eventually succeeds, and he frowns down at the bed, vision sleep-bleary. Ah. He'd fallen asleep reading again. He can feel the pages beneath his fingers.

But he knows exactly where he fell asleep, at least, and so he turns his eyes up to glance at Dion, to check on him and see if his expression is marred by discomfort again.

But what he sees makes him bolt upright, eyes widening as he sucks in a breath. ]

Dion--!

[ Oh, Founder, he's awake! His expression splits into a smile so wide it aches, and he pushes quickly to his feet, the blanket falling from his wings in the process. ]

By the Founder-- Are you in pain? Ah, let me get you some water--

[ It's absolutely not an excuse to turn away, but as he moves to cross the floor to the pitcher, he subtly lifts his hand to scrub at his eyes with the heel of it anyway. The relief is too much to bear in combination with the exhaustion. ]

You must be parched. I haven't been able to get you to drink much.

[ At least when he returns with the cup, he has successfully banished the hint of tears. ]

[All at once, there's a flurry of motion, and Dion is effectively blinded to it all. The smile that strikes him is so bright and relieved that it both wounds and warms his heart. Had Joshua truly been so worried? And if he was, then how long had passed since the attack?

But hey, the good news is that there's no chance Joshua will be caught with tears in his eyes.

When his head clears, Joshua is halfway across the room on the return journey, water in hand. He's grateful to accept it, realizing the moment he sees it that yes, he is parched. It's a miracle he doesn't down it all at once. Dion knows he's liable to make himself ill if he tries.

Once the water is set aside, he takes the time to sift back through everything that had been said. Only now does he realizes why being in the room is so strange.]

The clinic... why am I not - [He pauses, eyes widening for just a moment. Something warm surges through him as those words settle within his chest. I haven't..., Joshua had said, as if...]

How long has it been? Have I been in your care solely?

[No wonder Joshua looked so exhausted.]

[ As he'd thought. He could probably use some water too, honestly, but he will wait. Dion is awake, and he has to make sure he's all right.

Though, as the realization dawns on Dion's face... Joshua realizes he's worrying his fingers, and drops his hands to turn and pick up a vial of medicine. Just in case. ]

It has been three days. I did not want to take up a bed in the clinic when there are others that may need them, so I have been bringing supplies here.

[ As he says it now, he realizes it might sound... odd. Would it not be more efficient to have the supplies and Dion in the same location in the first place? He frowns at himself - in hindsight, now that it's being called out, he could have probably made a better decision there... ]

I have tended to your bite wounds - no magic - and have been administering medicine and painkillers as I thought they were needed. How are you feeling? Do you need anything?

[As Joshua questions his own motivations, Dion follows them perfectly. If given the choice, he would not want to take up a valuable bed when it was needed. That said, he doesn't love having taken Joshua's bed from him, but one thing at a time here.]

So much that you have done, all for me. [It's a thoughtful murmur, as if he's struggling to comprehend it himself.] And, on top of all that... you listened to my request despite how grave it all was.

[He's touched. He can only guess how difficult And yet one thing is for sure — Dion is already wiggling toward the edge of the bed, trying to stand.]

You must rest. You look as if you have not slept in these three days, and I am surely recovered enough to take the couch.

[Though Dion is resolved, his body is not yet recovered by any means. He finds himself swaying uneasily, his knees weak. He sits down on the bed just as quick as he rose.]

Just... in a moment.

[ Glancing away as he is, Joshua doesn't feel the need to ferry away the flush that lights his cheeks at those words quite as much as he normally would. He can hear that thoughtful tone in Dion's voice. Wants to say that of course he listened, of course he has done this for Dion-- but he can't. So he doesn't.

There are few in his life that he would go to these lengths for. Clive is one of them. Dion is another. ]

I am your healer. I did what I must. Within reason, of course.

[ Like "hardly sleeping or taking care of yourself" is within reason. But he'd gone through the same while waiting for Clive to return from the Garden. This is par for the course.

He can hear Dion shifting on the bed to get up, though, and turns, just in time to see him take his seat again. He pulls in a breath and sets down the vial of medicine, rushing to his friend's side, flush be damned. His hands hover for a moment, then come to rest lightly on Dion's shoulders. ]

You are still weakened. Understandably - your body has not had sustenance in three days, and you are likely dehydrated. Please, do not rush. We could even return to your room, if you like, but you need your strength first before you do aught else.

[ Maybe there is something that he can make in the kitchens... Something quick. If he's lucky, someone may be making something that he can borrow a bit from. Broth, perhaps - it would be easiest. Or salted biscuits. ]

Edited 2025-03-09 01:12 (UTC)

[It is a powerful thing that Joshua has done. Dion was under no doubts that it was a difficult ask on his own part, and that was before any of this had happened. Despite the high regard he held Joshua and his word in, he had expected there might always be a chance that the man faltered and fell short of his word in a moment of weakness. Yet put to the absolute test, he had held true.

For a man of honor such as Dion, it is a monumental gesture in his honor. The result is something powerful welling within his chest. It's sharp in the best of ways, pressing hard against his ribs. His heart flutters beneath the pressure, and he finds himself stricken nearly speechless. He can only repeat one simple thing:]

My healer.

[Even if Dion knew the lengths that Joshua pushed himself to, he would not be able to criticize him. He had already asked the world of the poor man. What else was he meant to do but what he had?

In any case, he holds out a hand to stay Joshua's words. He's shaking his head before he has begun speaking.]

If you will permit me another night in this room, I think it would do us both well. [Swiftly he realizes the innuendo of his words and rushes to add:] Rest is what both of us need in this moment. Sustenance first, of course, but you need not worry about trying to transport me elsewhere. I do not want to strain you any more than I have.

[ Those two words make Joshua pause, hesitating, eyes briefly searching Dion's face. It isn't just the words themselves - Dion has said them before - but the way that he says them. Something about it makes his heart swell, fluttering up into his throat and sticking there just for a moment.

Founder, what has gotten into him? He is to give Dion space to adjust and settle, he told himself this, told Clive this, but the way his heart aches in such a warm way makes him want to scatter that patience to the wind.

He is suddenly keenly aware of his stance, hands on Dion's shoulders and close enough to where his legs are only inches from bumping the prince's knees. With a breath, he removes his hands, standing straight again and clearing his throat. ]

If you are certain... then you are more than welcome to stay. I simply did not wish to keep you confined.

[ He glances at the floor for a moment, thoughtful. Then to the foot of the bed, then the window, then back to Dion. Right. Food, first. Anything else, later. ]

Wait here. I will go down to the kitchens to see what is available.

[Joshua isn't the only one vividly aware of their current position. The Phoenix is so close, and Dion so overcome with raw emotion. It would be so simple to lean upward, to thank him with something physical rather than ever attempt to put his gratitude into words. Perhaps his head even begins to incline toward that very motion —

— only for Joshua to swiftly pull away. Reality invites its way coldly into Dion's mind, reminding him that whatever he feels, it is more than likely one-sided. And though as far as he is concerned, his goodbyes had already been said to Terence, he still cannot help but think of the man.]

Naturally - [If he sounds distracted, no he doesn't.] But yes, the kitchens. That would be wise.

I am not picky, so please, do not strain or stress yourself.

[And while he's gone, maybe Dion can get his head on straight.]

[ He does sound distracted, just a little, but Joshua passes it off as everything Dion has been through the past few days. It's understandable, being shaky in both body and mind after sleeping so long. It had taken him three years of recovery after five years of sleep, after all.

The "Naturally" makes him wince subtly, though. Of course, Joshua. What a thing to say. Where else will Dion go? He has no choice but to wait here, you fool, he can hardly stand. ]

Yes. Of course. Please continue to sip your water - I will return as quickly as I can.

[ And with that, he departs the room, heading down to the kitchen to see what can be found.

Luckily for them, there is an easy option. A pot of wonderful-smelling soup sits simmering on the stove, and while Joshua doesn't know whose it is or what is in it, he is quick to ladle some into a bowl. Meat and vegetables - he winces at the presence of carrots, but spoons a couple in regardless. This is for Dion, not for him, and while he does focus more on obtaining the broth than the solids, any nutrition will be good for him.

He's gone for about ten minutes before he returns to the room, holding a tray with the bowl and a piece of bread on it. Unfortunately for him, any clarity of mind he had obtained while focusing on gathering the food is immediately dispersed as his eyes rest on Dion, and everything he had felt prior to leaving begins to build right back up. ]

Here you are. Mind the bowl - it is hot.

[While Joshua is gone, Dion does dare let his mind wander. Instead, he employs the same tack as before — naming the objects in the room. He moves through each sense: sight is easy enough; he hears the distant din and bustle of the town; he smells distant herbs from tea and medicine alike, just as he tastes the latter on his tongue. Touch, however, stops him short. Though he tries to focus on the blankets beneath his fingers, the fabric of his clothes, and where the bandages hug his skin, his mind comes back to one thing.

Joshua's skin beneath his fingers, the hair as he twined through.

Despite his best efforts, the thought still races through his mind as Joshua returns. It's a small miracle that his ears aren't flushed with the thought of it. He forces himself to begin the action again, focusing on the rattle of the bowl, the smell of the soup, even as he reaches out to accept the offering.

His eyes quickly avail, however, that there is only one bowl to be had.]

Joshua. [His tone isn't chiding, but concerned.] When was the last time you ate.

[ There is only one bowl to be had.

There is only one bowl to be had and Joshua didn't consider the implications of only bringing one bowl.

Founding Flames, he's exhausted. He laughs softly, a bit on this side of ashamed despite the clear tone of concern rather than disappointment. ]

Not to worry. I ate before I fell asleep.

[ Or, at least, that's what he recalls. His stomach isn't screaming for sustenance, at any rate, but with the curse now spread there, who's to say it even would? ]

Please, do not worry about me. I will be all right. Eat. Gather your strength.

["Do not worry," Joshua says, as if Dion is physically capable of restraining himself. He fixes a look upon the man, before he shifts to set his bowl upon the bedside table.]

Bring me a mug. [It is not an ask, but a demand. While he waits, he reaches for the bread that had been brought and splits it in twain. He finishes just in time for Joshua to return, and snatches the mug before he can protest. He has no doubt that it's obvious what he intends to do.

He doesn't wait for permission, instead carefully pouring half of his soup into the mug. He nods to it sternly.]

For you. [And before anything else can be said.] My appetite is yet to fully return. I have no doubt that this will be enough to satisfy me. Moreover, I would not be able to eat knowing you might yet be languishing.

[ The fact that it is a demand is enough to make Joshua's back straighten. That is a tone that brooks no argument. ]

... yes. Of course.

[ He nearly asks why, but as he turns to hand it to Dion, his question is all but answered. The bread has already been broken, and he is hardly surprised that some of the soup is poured into the mug as soon as he has his hands on it.

This, too, brooks no argument. He knows it. So, Joshua sighs softly, picking up the mug but leaving the spoon for Dion. ]

Thank you.

[ Dion has the bed, so he takes the seat beside it, not really thinking as he lifts the mug to his lips to take a sip.

And immediately bites down on a piece of carrot, much to his dismay. The look he gives his mug is an odd combination of a grimace and a kicked puppy. Politely, once the broth has been properly swallowed around the offending vegetable, he turns his head to spit the carrot into the trash bin beside the bed. ]

Founder, I forgot about the-- Dion, may I borrow your spoon? Just for a moment.

[The moment Joshua's expression shifts, Dion realizes his mistake. He looks to his own soup, watching the carrots float upon the surface, and then immediately turns his attention back to Joshua. There are a thousand apologies written up on his face, and a thousand more jokes he could make.

As it is, he barely restrains a smile.]

Ah, of course. [He reaches out with his spoon, then uses it to motion Joshua all the more forward.]

It seems I've already failed in my sacred duty. [Perhaps it's wrong for him to joke in this state. He hopes Joshua will forgive him for it all the same. He'd like to think it's helping, at least. ] But pray, let me make it up to you.

[If Joshua will let him, he'll be the one to do all the scooping, thank you.]

[ As the spoon is extended to him, Joshua moves to reach for it. And then hesitates, as the spoon is then used to gesture for him to come closer.

He does, of course, tipping his head aside curiously. ]

Your...?

[ ... oh. Oh, what he'd said the night they were all reunited here. He lets out a soft, surprised laugh, shaking his head slightly. Dion doesn't have to do this, but he can tell that this is in jest. As their conversation had gone the night they walked home from the bar.

It's... nice. He enjoys it. It's charming, to see Dion so relaxed, and particularly so after being so ill. He sets his mug on the tray, nodding. ]

Of course. Please, feel free.

Edited 2025-03-09 07:11 (UTC)

[Dion's reasoning is two-fold. One, it's a relatively effortless way to give back to Joshua after all he's done. Moreover, it's a distraction from the horrors they've both experienced over the last few days. A touch of humor would go a long way to alleviate the tension within both of their minds.

So... he sets to diligently scooping away each carrot, setting it upon his own plate. Joshua will have more than one reason to be pleased about it. Not only will he be free of the pesky vegetable, but Dion will have yet more sustenance to enjoy.

As the last carrot is scooped up, Dion shoots a glance through his lashes up toward Joshua. The smile he offers should be teasing, but it feels softer and more tender at the edges than it rightly should.]

You are saved. [He turns away, spooning one of the carrots into his mouth.] And I am all the richer for it.

[ Joshua watches carefully as Dion spoons the carrots from his mug - and into his own meal, which brightens his smile a bit, because it means they won't go to waste. But it also serves to give him an idea of whether or not Dion's hand-eye coordination is off. And it seems like he's doing well enough, which is a big relief.

But the smile he's offered as the effort is completed is so gentle that it makes his heart flutter anew. He can't help but return it, and he reaches out to take his mug and the half piece of bread. ]

Well, thank the Founder for that. Thank you, Dion.

[ He lifts the mug to his lips, settling back in the chair while making sure his wings are situated over the back of it, rather than being squashed by it. It's a good soup, all told. The broth is richly flavored and just a touch salty, good for warming the bones in the cold. It serve Dion well. ]

Are you still experiencing aches and pains? Your sleep was incredibly fitful. I wouldn't be at all surprised if you felt worn out at the very least.

[Dion tries everything in his power to keep from smiling into his soup. By all means, he should be in much rougher shape and spirits than he is. It's true that his body still aches, but his soul remains warmed. Joshua's kindness has done far more for him than he cares to admit.

Moreover, he can't help but think about his conversation with Ezell. Even if Dion had felt he'd resolved things with Terence, there was still a lingering sense of duty there. Yet if what the man had said that night was true, love was not something that actually needed to be divided. He was no worse of a person for feeling the way that he did. It's a strange revelation to have now, of all moments, but he supposes it makes sense. Once more, he'd been on death's doorstep. It wasn't the first time clarity had come to him as a result of that.

Nevertheless, it's not something he intends to act upon right away. There was a right way of doing these things, and part of that would involve speaking to Clive and asking for permission. He wouldn't dare cross this line unprovoked without doing so.

Naturally he realizes he's been silent for far too long. He blinks once, before sheepishly glancing toward Joshua. He'd said something hadn't he? Dion searches back through his mind and — ah, yes.]

I will admit that I am sore. It is of little surprise, considering the state of my dreams. But it will pass, as most muscle aches do. You needn't worry.

[ Hmm. That silence is noted, and Joshua wonders if it has anything to do with the wounds and the venom, or if he is simply thinking. Processing what happened, perhaps. Regardless, he doesn't call Dion on it. There's no need, when he's catching himself and answering. ]

That is good to hear. Though, I do have more oral pain medicines, should you need them.

[ He takes another sip of his soup, this time getting a small chunk of potato to chew. As he does, he busies his fingers tearing a chunk off his piece of bread. ]

They... did leave a mark. The snakes. You will see it when the bandages are removed.

[ He frowns at this, clearly troubled. ]

It is that false god's mark, I am sure of it. This is his doing.

I have suffered far worse. [He pauses, knowing full well that won't do for an excuse in Joshua's eyes.] Ah, I only mean... they come nowhere near the pain I have suffered as a result of my injuries from Twinside, or of my demise. I am no stranger to muscle aches.

[He wwatches Joshua eat, relieved to see that it's not a matter of simply humoring Dion. He seems to be enjoying the meal, despite whatever minimal appetite he might well possess.

His eyes drop to the new bandages on his arm. His mouth twitches into something close to a scowl.]

It will join the legion of scars from my other enemies. And I will regard it with the same attention I give the others — minimal.

[ Dion's clarification gets a small smile. He understands. He has used the same reasoning before - withstanding the pain of the curse, the horrible coughing, the blood, because he has been through worse. But, Dion is also correct in knowing that it isn't a particularly good excuse. Goodness knows the trouble he's put Tarja through with skipping his own doses of medicine. ]

I will let you off easily, then, so long as you can promise me you will take something if the ache is too much. We are allowed to afford ourselves a kindness from time to time.

[ The hunk of bread gets dipped into his mug, but he eyes Dion as he eats it, careful not to drip broth on himself. It's probably for the best not to give it too much attention - it gives the thing power, after all. But even so, the fact that both his brother and Dion have been harmed by that thing in the woods...

He doesn't like it. He has always chosen the better way, has always chosen kindness, but not when it comes to gods going after Clive. And now, not when it comes to Dion. ]

If you insist. Though, I might ask Beiwe if there is a way to remove it. I know not whether it might inflict the corruption, but it is better safe than sorry.

[He's relieved that Joshua doesn't press. While Dion hardly minds the medicine, he's also a hardened warrior. It seemed almost silly, to take pain relievers over an ache any soldier on the field might face. That said, Joshua has made many sacrifices for the sake of Dion's own desires. The least he can do is acquiesce to this.]

If it gets any worse, I shall. I would hate to add to the stress of my dearest healer.

[Where Joshua's thoughts are troubled, Dion grows curious. He's heard whispers of the word "Corruption" throughout town, but he has not yet pried. A glance down at his bandaged wounds does make him worry, but he's certain that if there were a risk, Joshua would have made it known by now.]

Whatever puts your soul at ease. I will gladly accept whatever treatment you and yours deem necessary.

[ Joshua very nearly takes another bite of the broth-soaked bread, but his hand pauses an inch from his lips as his mind comes screeching to a halt. While "my healer" has become somewhat of a common thing to hear, now, the addition of dearest is clearly enough to make his entire mental processes cease to function.

It takes a moment before he realizes that he's been possibly staring at his bread a second or two too long, so he puts the bite in his mouth and focuses on chewing it. The flush on his cheeks is clearly just a trick of the light. ]

Of course. They are not difficult to take on your own, so I would be happy to send them along with you when you return to your room, if you like.

[ Hmm. He will have to commune with Beiwe, then. Probably tomorrow, during the day. She is a sun goddess, after all, and it feels somehow rude to contact her at night. ]

I will always take the side of caution when it comes to possible corruption. It... isn't pleasant. It allows that thing in the forest to control you, to see what you see and hear what you hear. So, it is wise to make certain we are not dealing with it.

[Dion only seems to notice that Joshua has locked up just a few minutes too late. He glances toward the man, brow quirking upward in the slightest. Before he can ask, though, he seems to come back into himself, and returns to eating. Perhaps, then, it's better that Dion not pry.]

I suppose I should return to my own quarters before long.

[He glances at Joshua's own bed and makes a face. He recalls both excrutiating heat and bone chilling cold. He can only imagine the state it's left the bed in.]

I suppose you will not let me offer to clean the sheets before I go, will you?

[His attention shifts back to the thought of corruption. He... doesn't like what he hears. He draws his wounded arm ever closer to his body. No, he would sooner hack off his limb than let himself lose control ever again.]

In that case, I would be immensely grateful if you would do so.

[He's sure he doesn't need to elaborate as to why.]

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