[ There were more downsides to living this far out from the central part of Stygia than there were upsides. Today, the biggest downside was making itself known: creepy creatures, knocking at the door, or in this case, prowling around it. A gargoyle circles the outside of the chapel, pausing every now and then to shove at the doors and snarling at them when it can't push them open. It's already broken a few windows trying to get in but found them all far too narrow to fit, so the doors would have to be it. ]
J-just go away already! [ A panicked voice from within shouted out after the latest attempt to bully its way through the large, rounded front doors. ] I. I would taste terrible! I'm scrawny! No meat at all!
[ And that would be the scene Zagreus would come across while wandering through, some poor soul stuck in an old building, humble in design but clearly not a regular home of any sort. ]
[Is what Zag says behind the Gargoyle, almost drowned out by the snarling the bat-like beast is doing. It warbles something curiously, possibly wondering how it didn't hear him arrive.
It turns around, anyway. Ah, well, gargoyles are very patient predators, or so he had heard. To circle around prey stuck in a trap is one thing. To have a delightfully difficult spoil is another. It snaps its teeth at Zagreus, wings stretching and coiling, and Zag can't help remember the one single skinned wing of a very good friend of his.
He spits a bloom onto the ground after clearing his throat. He shouts out what he hopes Bruno will hear.] In there! I assume you have something that is very loud inside? Start making noise!
If anything, Zagreus is a quick student, and he's walked through Tartarus enough time to know how to work with the sound of things slamming and crumbling and falling. He picks up his tin shield, steps forward by holding it by the brim, and slams it against a stone column nearby.
[The shield rings like a gong, and his throat clenches fast when he remembers the toll of a bell seeped in green. Yet, the gargoyle staggers, makes almost to cover its ears, and hisses at the noise and Zagreus himself.
He does it again, and it recoils away from the church.] Back! Bad gargoyle, bad!
[ Noise? Starting making noise? Bruno doesn't answer Zagreus after he yells that to him from outside and it may even seem like the church has gone silent, the person inside perhaps doing nothing at all, but that'll be proven untrue a moment later. It took him that time to scramble away from the door and up into the balcony where the church's pipe organ resides.
It's hideously out of tune and most of the keys are missing but if it's noise Zagreus wants, it can certainly still do that! And it will, too, because Bruno will be smashing random keys as soon as he throws the wooden covers back from them.
A cacophony of cringe-worthy not-so-musical notes comes booming out of the chapel, startling the gargoyle something fierce at how sudden it is. ]
[Wow, he had expected whoever was inside the building to hit pots and pans and throw porcelain at the walls, but this is even better, startling even Zagreus. Through the loud discord that echoes through the walls and out the windows and his own insistent banging, the gargoyle hisses, screeches, trying to reach a talon towards him but then deciding against it and covering its face with a pained expression. It ends up giving up on such rowdy prey.]
We're clearly not the best appetizers. [He still winces at the sound. Obviously, his own voice is drowned by… whatever sound that was. Zagreus does a little dash and goes through the entrance. A neat party trick, anyway.
He looks around, searching for the person he just helped, and waves widely with his hands to try and see if Bruno notices him and realizes it's safe now.]
[ That awful banging on the pipe organ goes on a moment longer before Bruno notices someone else down in the chapel, waving his arms around to get his attention. That's when he'll stop and leave the wreck of a keyboard behind to creep up to the balcony banister instead. He peeks over it, still sort of hiding as he has no idea who Zagreus happens to be.
Well, aside from the guy who just helped him out, soooo he probably isn't out to also hurt him, right? ]
[Well, he supposes that it's only natural for this person to feel skittish. They've almost become a gargoyle snack, after all. Zagreus sets down the shield against a pew, now bearing a plethora of dents and nicks from all the banging.
Looking up, he does look genuinely concerned. He's only seen the gargoyle outside; maybe this person was attacked inside or ran for shelter in this... well, odd building. He never saw a building structure with this shape anywhere.
Not that he knows much of the outside world, anyway.] Are you alright? That thing didn't get you, did it?
Me? Oh, I'm, uh, yeah? I'm good, I'm just a little... rattled. It didn't catch me, though. I. I got in here before it did.
[ He slowly, ever so slowly, stops lurking behind the banister and stands up to get a better look at Zagreus and, in turn, gives Zagreus a better look at him. Just some little, nervous-looking fellow, all-in-all. ]
[It's fine, it's just a random tin one; he'll get another later.]
Oh, good! Glad to hear it. [Zagreus perks up, glad that this nervous-looking person is actually safe. He does, however, frown after a beat, but more curious than serious.] If I may ask, what was it that you used to make all that racket? I've never heard anything like it.
[ Once before, Bruno had claimed the roof of the chapel was sound. At the time, it had been! It had stood up to the rain and thunderstorms fine but perhaps he's just unlucky. No, scratch that, he knows that he's unlucky. The sleet that came with the change in the season had been one step too far and he awoke to dripping water from above, leaving puddles on the floor.
During a brief pause in the sheets of ice and rain, Bruno chances a look outside and has already scaled up the side of the chapel with relative ease. Now, he's checking the tiles and, overall, not the best idea. The roof is still slick from sleet and is slanted in the way chapel roofs tend to be. For now, he uses a vine that's grown up, clinging to the wall and roof, to keep his footing up there, gripping it with one hand and prying at roof tiles with the other. ]
...ugh, I have no idea which it is... where's the leak coming from?
[ The Barrens, one would think, is a fitting name for a place that barely has any signs of excitement. Tartaglia has lost track of how much time he's spent exploring the area only to find not a whole lot of noteworthy things, but that soon changes when he hears a voice from above. Wait— above?
He looks up just in time to see a man up on the chapel roof, clinging to a vine while he's busy looking for something. ]
Hey! Did you lose something up there?
[ He didn't hear the part about the leak. Also, he hopes this guy isn't easy to scare... or else maybe he shouldn't have called out to him randomly like this. Oops. ]
[ There Childe goes, hoping this very easy-to-scare guy isn't easy to scare after already yelling up at him. Bruno, unsurprisingly considering what was mentioned just before this, does indeed get scared. He gives a start. ]
Wha—?!
[ And that movement and sudden attempt to turn and see who it is? That's all more than enough to dislodge his footing from what was an already slick and slanted surface that, frankly, he had no business being up on. Anything he may have said are cut off by a shout of terror as he slips and goes sliding down the side of the roof.
The only saving grace here is he manages to get a grip on the vine again and, at the same time, the edge of the roof with his other hand just before he's about to go over. It leaves him dangling halfway off the roof, legs flailing uselessly in empty air as he's too far from the walls under to get a new foothold. ]
Crap, crap! Why do I... why does this keep happening?!
[ He's normally very good at climbing and this is so embarrassing, wow. ]
The exact thing he'd wanted to avoid ended up happening anyway, but luckily, the guy doesn't fall all the way through. Well, it's still unlucky, but it could have been way worse. He springs into action, positioning himself roughly close to where the guy might end up if the vine couldn't withstand his weight. ]
Whoa—! It's fine, it's fine. I'll catch you if you just let go.
[ He's ready whenever Bruno is, arms spread and prepared to catch him. He can't help but wonder what this man was doing up there... and why did he say it keeps happening? This has happened more than once??? ]
[ He keeps getting startled and falling off things, it's terrible, absolutely terrible. Maybe he should keep his feet on the ground for a while but that's a worry for another time. Bruno cranes his head down to try and see who it is claiming they'll catch him. There's someone, someone he doesn't recognize, but... what other option is there? ]
R-really? You. you won't let me hit the ground?!
[ He calls back, too nervous to let go just yet. The wooden gutter lining the roof's edge creaks worryingly under his grip. ]
[ Tartaglia understands the man's reluctance. After all, he's just a stranger to him, so why would he leave his fate in the hands of someone he doesn't know? But it's either that or he breaks a few bones when he falls, so going with him is the lesser of two evils. ]
I won't. You can count on that.
[ Plus, it's his fault the guy is in this predicament anyway, so he stays right where he is. ]
I'm ready when you are.
[ And when the man decides to let go, he'll catch him perfectly. ]
[ He needs to breathe in and breath out a few times. He can do this. He can do this. Just let go, let go, let go. It takes a few times to convince himself to but, after another long pause, he just... does. He releases his grip on the vine and roof's gutter at the same time and falls. ]
[ Tartaglia remains patient while he waits for the man to let go.
It's not the easiest thing to do, he knows, so he doesn't mind if the guy has to count from ten to one before he sends himself free-falling. At least the Harbinger is ready to catch him when he finally does, taking great care not to drop him once he's caught him. ]
Huh. You're light as a feather.
[ He means nothing by it; just a simple observation. Regardless, he's beaming. ]
[ It's coming down out there. The sleet, that is. It hadn't been sleeting for most of the day and then, boom, torrential ice and rain out of nowhere, and out here in the Barrens? Sure, there are plenty of ruined buildings and caves but the chapel stands as one overwhelmingly whole building even if its outside walls were covered in creeping vines and the ground around it was gray and cracked.
The windows, the ones that haven't been covered up or boarded due to broken glass, glow with warm light from within, making it more inviting than most of the other ruins scattered around on top of having an actual roof intact.
Anyone passing by and seeking a dry spot to sit out the sleet will find the large front doors closed but easy to push open, with no bar or lock keeping them shut whatsoever. ]
[ The chill and the damp are two things that will not fell him, but also do not feel comfortable upon his body. A sudden parting of the skies has him darting for shelter, not recognizing the shape of the chapel ( -- such things come centuries after him, with his sandstone temples and structures ) but noticing that it has one of the more sturdy rooftops. When in Rome Stygia, any port will do. Wrapped in his traveling cloak as he is, when he ducks in, the material clings like a second skin to him, the ends of his red hair clumped together in sleek lines.
It's awful. He never really needs a brush to detangle all that hair.
Casting the folded hood back, he wrings out the melting sleet from his hair, looking high into the chapel to ensure the roof is not buckling -- and he presses the door behind him closed with a bare foot. ]
If someone is here, [ he does call out, just in case, ] I am only seeking a moment's shelter from this rotten storm.
[ It isn't the first time people have come baring into the chapel and it won't be the last time. Bruno is getting used to it... but this voice that calls outsounds familiar somehow and he immediately gets this sinking feeling from it. He isn't down on the main floor but up in the balcony overlooking the rest of the place, where the old pipe organ — no longer in use and kept very much shut by Bruno — takes up a portion and the rest is, well, just where he's set up his own living space.
There are no stairs up but rather a pew shoved partway up against a wall to offer a way to boost one's self up to it. It works for Bruno just fine. Maybe less so for other people but... that's fine, too.
In any case, Bruno pokes his head over the balcony railing, and the very second he sees who it is— ]
...oh no, not you. Nope. No way. Go away? Uh, yeah, you should. You should go away. Bye.
[ He doesn't want this lunatic in his home! Why him?! Of all the people in Stygia! ]
[ Devoted as he is to wringing his wet cloak out, he has enough sense to not do it directly on the floor of the chapel. No, no. He finds some manner of receptacle into which he squeezes the water into - a bucket, perhaps a makeshift trough. Whatever it is, he's quite dedicated to filling it with the splash of water, before casting his pale cloak over one of the nearby pews, intent on leaving it to dry. He draws his hair over his shoulder, once again bare save for the glint of gold jewelry and the dark, wrapped linen of his shendyt.
He lifts his head, sniffing at the air like some manner of wild animal, when he hears the sound of a familiar voice. ]
My my!
[ It takes him two steps forward, and then the flex of his thighs carries him into the air, landing him on the rail -- a monstrous and elegant leap, as he crows brightly at Bruno. ]
Are you truly going to turn me out into the storm, how cruel of you! Is this the place you make your nest?
[ That leap sends Bruno scrambling away from the railing. Thankfully, while this isn't the first time someone's done that — and it's weird that it's happened twice now, he thought he'd be safe up here! — this time he at least already has all the candles lit. He can find and put a chair between himself at Set, for what little good that would do. ]
Don't do that! Did I invite you up here? I. I don't think so! J-just. Just stay on the other side of the chapel a-and leave me alone!
[ Although it's very clear this is where he "makes his nest", so to speak. While the main floor has been tided up and organized as well as it can be, the balcony itself is where the pile of blankets and a sad little pillow exists, along with a table and some ramshackle chairs that have been cobbled back together from scavenged pieces here and there. There are other things up there, too, that generally mark it as the main living area... and a distinct lack of stairs. Those were broken long ago, meaning Bruno must have to climb up and down to get to and from this spot. ]
[ Something about Bruno begs to be bullied, and Set - god of bullies? - is so very keen on tormenting him. Not with true cruelty, not like he is capable of, but enough so that he can watch this man flail and scamper around. He is the most nervous creature, Bruno is; perplexing in his vulnerability, perhaps a little worrisome in his timidity. How had he ever survived as long as he had, to reach the age he is at? Set assumes he is an older human, by the hair upon his face and the lines upon him; he's not good at time or age, however. They don't apply to divinities.
He steps down, off of the creaking balcony, before it does more than simply threaten to cave in under the arch of his foot. There is a chair between them, but it does not stop Set from running his eyes so boldly, unabashed, over Bruno's appearance. Over the appearance of his little den. There is some form of recognition in his bright, red gaze; the metaphorical nod of understanding, as his eyes slide back to the man attempting to put as much distance between them as possible.
Perhaps it is why he softens. As much as a god of war softens, which means he just sighs. ]
I did not expect that you would be here, you must know. I've not come to injure or ravage you.
And you're not a guest unless I've welcomed you as one, so... y'know...
[ Besides, it wasn't as though he had anything prepared to offer any guests at the moment. He's long since gone through the tiny store of tea he had and no more treats from the festival remain, not even in their weaker forms. He doesn't say this, for it's pointless to complain aloud about his own problems, ones only he can really fix in the end.
He shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other at the look Set gives him, then the rest of his so-called home. It isn't much. He's never needed much but... he imagines it holds up poorly against where most others live and he'd been prepared for mockery over it, only that never comes.
Instead, Set tells him he isn't here to do harm. That sigh was certainly one Bruno could understand, perhaps the one of someone used to wrong assumptions. While he remains as nervous as ever, he pursues his lips in thought for a moment, his gaze flitting away towards the nearest window where the rain and ice continue to pelt steadily against it. He, too, breathes out a sigh. ]
Oh, fine. You can stick around. It's pretty nasty out there right now.
[ Set's throat works, as if preparing to say something more in retaliation -- perhaps something about not needing to be seen as a guest, then. An invader on tenuous grounds, if he must be seen at all; however, Bruno's permission comes soon after, and his voice catches on the faintest of clicks. Words stifled immediately, by the rise of something incredulous. To say that he was prepared to have to fight the entire time to be able to remain under the roof would be a lie; he would have complained, and then gone right back out into the cold, if it truly come down to it.
He doesn't have to now, and it's at that point that his knees finally give out on him and he slides to the floor below, casting his hands out to catch his weight with a relieved little flop. It's ungraceful, but like all things, he throws the whole of himself into the motion. ]
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for Zagreus
J-just go away already! [ A panicked voice from within shouted out after the latest attempt to bully its way through the large, rounded front doors. ] I. I would taste terrible! I'm scrawny! No meat at all!
[ And that would be the scene Zagreus would come across while wandering through, some poor soul stuck in an old building, humble in design but clearly not a regular home of any sort. ]
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[Is what Zag says behind the Gargoyle, almost drowned out by the snarling the bat-like beast is doing. It warbles something curiously, possibly wondering how it didn't hear him arrive.
It turns around, anyway. Ah, well, gargoyles are very patient predators, or so he had heard. To circle around prey stuck in a trap is one thing. To have a delightfully difficult spoil is another. It snaps its teeth at Zagreus, wings stretching and coiling, and Zag can't help remember the one single skinned wing of a very good friend of his.
He spits a bloom onto the ground after clearing his throat. He shouts out what he hopes Bruno will hear.] In there! I assume you have something that is very loud inside? Start making noise!
If anything, Zagreus is a quick student, and he's walked through Tartarus enough time to know how to work with the sound of things slamming and crumbling and falling. He picks up his tin shield, steps forward by holding it by the brim, and slams it against a stone column nearby.
[The shield rings like a gong, and his throat clenches fast when he remembers the toll of a bell seeped in green. Yet, the gargoyle staggers, makes almost to cover its ears, and hisses at the noise and Zagreus himself.
He does it again, and it recoils away from the church.] Back! Bad gargoyle, bad!
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It's hideously out of tune and most of the keys are missing but if it's noise Zagreus wants, it can certainly still do that! And it will, too, because Bruno will be smashing random keys as soon as he throws the wooden covers back from them.
A cacophony of cringe-worthy not-so-musical notes comes booming out of the chapel, startling the gargoyle something fierce at how sudden it is. ]
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We're clearly not the best appetizers. [He still winces at the sound. Obviously, his own voice is drowned by… whatever sound that was. Zagreus does a little dash and goes through the entrance. A neat party trick, anyway.
He looks around, searching for the person he just helped, and waves widely with his hands to try and see if Bruno notices him and realizes it's safe now.]
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Well, aside from the guy who just helped him out, soooo he probably isn't out to also hurt him, right? ]
H-hello?
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Looking up, he does look genuinely concerned. He's only seen the gargoyle outside; maybe this person was attacked inside or ran for shelter in this... well, odd building. He never saw a building structure with this shape anywhere.
Not that he knows much of the outside world, anyway.] Are you alright? That thing didn't get you, did it?
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Me? Oh, I'm, uh, yeah? I'm good, I'm just a little... rattled. It didn't catch me, though. I. I got in here before it did.
[ He slowly, ever so slowly, stops lurking behind the banister and stands up to get a better look at Zagreus and, in turn, gives Zagreus a better look at him. Just some little, nervous-looking fellow, all-in-all. ]
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Oh, good! Glad to hear it. [Zagreus perks up, glad that this nervous-looking person is actually safe. He does, however, frown after a beat, but more curious than serious.] If I may ask, what was it that you used to make all that racket? I've never heard anything like it.
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[ Bruno turns to glance back at the pipe organ in question in all its terrible and barely held-together glory. ]
That's just up here. It's like a piano? Just bigger? And louder, I guess, although this one doesn't have much music left in it, I think.
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for Childe
During a brief pause in the sheets of ice and rain, Bruno chances a look outside and has already scaled up the side of the chapel with relative ease. Now, he's checking the tiles and, overall, not the best idea. The roof is still slick from sleet and is slanted in the way chapel roofs tend to be. For now, he uses a vine that's grown up, clinging to the wall and roof, to keep his footing up there, gripping it with one hand and prying at roof tiles with the other. ]
...ugh, I have no idea which it is... where's the leak coming from?
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He looks up just in time to see a man up on the chapel roof, clinging to a vine while he's busy looking for something. ]
Hey! Did you lose something up there?
[ He didn't hear the part about the leak. Also, he hopes this guy isn't easy to scare... or else maybe he shouldn't have called out to him randomly like this. Oops. ]
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Wha—?!
[ And that movement and sudden attempt to turn and see who it is? That's all more than enough to dislodge his footing from what was an already slick and slanted surface that, frankly, he had no business being up on. Anything he may have said are cut off by a shout of terror as he slips and goes sliding down the side of the roof.
The only saving grace here is he manages to get a grip on the vine again and, at the same time, the edge of the roof with his other hand just before he's about to go over. It leaves him dangling halfway off the roof, legs flailing uselessly in empty air as he's too far from the walls under to get a new foothold. ]
Crap, crap! Why do I... why does this keep happening?!
[ He's normally very good at climbing and this is so embarrassing, wow. ]
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The exact thing he'd wanted to avoid ended up happening anyway, but luckily, the guy doesn't fall all the way through. Well, it's still unlucky, but it could have been way worse. He springs into action, positioning himself roughly close to where the guy might end up if the vine couldn't withstand his weight. ]
Whoa—! It's fine, it's fine. I'll catch you if you just let go.
[ He's ready whenever Bruno is, arms spread and prepared to catch him. He can't help but wonder what this man was doing up there... and why did he say it keeps happening? This has happened more than once??? ]
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R-really? You. you won't let me hit the ground?!
[ He calls back, too nervous to let go just yet. The wooden gutter lining the roof's edge creaks worryingly under his grip. ]
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I won't. You can count on that.
[ Plus, it's his fault the guy is in this predicament anyway, so he stays right where he is. ]
I'm ready when you are.
[ And when the man decides to let go, he'll catch him perfectly. ]
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[ He needs to breathe in and breath out a few times. He can do this. He can do this. Just let go, let go, let go. It takes a few times to convince himself to but, after another long pause, he just... does. He releases his grip on the vine and roof's gutter at the same time and falls. ]
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It's not the easiest thing to do, he knows, so he doesn't mind if the guy has to count from ten to one before he sends himself free-falling. At least the Harbinger is ready to catch him when he finally does, taking great care not to drop him once he's caught him. ]
Huh. You're light as a feather.
[ He means nothing by it; just a simple observation. Regardless, he's beaming. ]
I told you I'd catch you.
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we can probably wrap this up here if u want
🎀
for Set
The windows, the ones that haven't been covered up or boarded due to broken glass, glow with warm light from within, making it more inviting than most of the other ruins scattered around on top of having an actual roof intact.
Anyone passing by and seeking a dry spot to sit out the sleet will find the large front doors closed but easy to push open, with no bar or lock keeping them shut whatsoever. ]
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RomeStygia, any port will do. Wrapped in his traveling cloak as he is, when he ducks in, the material clings like a second skin to him, the ends of his red hair clumped together in sleek lines.It's awful. He never really needs a brush to detangle all that hair.
Casting the folded hood back, he wrings out the melting sleet from his hair, looking high into the chapel to ensure the roof is not buckling -- and he presses the door behind him closed with a bare foot. ]
If someone is here, [ he does call out, just in case, ] I am only seeking a moment's shelter from this rotten storm.
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There are no stairs up but rather a pew shoved partway up against a wall to offer a way to boost one's self up to it. It works for Bruno just fine. Maybe less so for other people but... that's fine, too.
In any case, Bruno pokes his head over the balcony railing, and the very second he sees who it is— ]
...oh no, not you. Nope. No way. Go away? Uh, yeah, you should. You should go away. Bye.
[ He doesn't want this lunatic in his home! Why him?! Of all the people in Stygia! ]
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He lifts his head, sniffing at the air like some manner of wild animal, when he hears the sound of a familiar voice. ]
My my!
[ It takes him two steps forward, and then the flex of his thighs carries him into the air, landing him on the rail -- a monstrous and elegant leap, as he crows brightly at Bruno. ]
Are you truly going to turn me out into the storm, how cruel of you! Is this the place you make your nest?
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Don't do that! Did I invite you up here? I. I don't think so! J-just. Just stay on the other side of the chapel a-and leave me alone!
[ Although it's very clear this is where he "makes his nest", so to speak. While the main floor has been tided up and organized as well as it can be, the balcony itself is where the pile of blankets and a sad little pillow exists, along with a table and some ramshackle chairs that have been cobbled back together from scavenged pieces here and there. There are other things up there, too, that generally mark it as the main living area... and a distinct lack of stairs. Those were broken long ago, meaning Bruno must have to climb up and down to get to and from this spot. ]
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[ Something about Bruno begs to be bullied, and Set - god of bullies? - is so very keen on tormenting him. Not with true cruelty, not like he is capable of, but enough so that he can watch this man flail and scamper around. He is the most nervous creature, Bruno is; perplexing in his vulnerability, perhaps a little worrisome in his timidity. How had he ever survived as long as he had, to reach the age he is at? Set assumes he is an older human, by the hair upon his face and the lines upon him; he's not good at time or age, however. They don't apply to divinities.
He steps down, off of the creaking balcony, before it does more than simply threaten to cave in under the arch of his foot. There is a chair between them, but it does not stop Set from running his eyes so boldly, unabashed, over Bruno's appearance. Over the appearance of his little den. There is some form of recognition in his bright, red gaze; the metaphorical nod of understanding, as his eyes slide back to the man attempting to put as much distance between them as possible.
Perhaps it is why he softens. As much as a god of war softens, which means he just sighs. ]
I did not expect that you would be here, you must know. I've not come to injure or ravage you.
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[ Besides, it wasn't as though he had anything prepared to offer any guests at the moment. He's long since gone through the tiny store of tea he had and no more treats from the festival remain, not even in their weaker forms. He doesn't say this, for it's pointless to complain aloud about his own problems, ones only he can really fix in the end.
He shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other at the look Set gives him, then the rest of his so-called home. It isn't much. He's never needed much but... he imagines it holds up poorly against where most others live and he'd been prepared for mockery over it, only that never comes.
Instead, Set tells him he isn't here to do harm. That sigh was certainly one Bruno could understand, perhaps the one of someone used to wrong assumptions. While he remains as nervous as ever, he pursues his lips in thought for a moment, his gaze flitting away towards the nearest window where the rain and ice continue to pelt steadily against it. He, too, breathes out a sigh. ]
Oh, fine. You can stick around. It's pretty nasty out there right now.
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He doesn't have to now, and it's at that point that his knees finally give out on him and he slides to the floor below, casting his hands out to catch his weight with a relieved little flop. It's ungraceful, but like all things, he throws the whole of himself into the motion. ]
I'm in your care. I truly despise being so damp.
[ it makes him all sorts of USELESS ]
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