stardiving | IC Inbox (Victory Road)

Perhaps it is not about being worthy.

[Estinien can't think that worth has anything at all to do with most of what he's experienced. If it was, he wouldn't be here--it was hardly his worth that changed his fate on the Steps of Faith, it was only sentiment.

Estinien sighs. He can certainly understand--it's not even particularly hard. It's as simple as fighting for your home, for your people, and that's something he's been doing most of his life. But...the toll that Solus says is not too high, is excruciating to Estinien.]

You have sworn to recover your home, as I have sworn to protect mine. Tis not that I misunderstand your goals, or even that I disagree with them. Tis simply that for your aims to be achieved, tis my people that must pay in blood. Were it not for that, I would call it admirable.

[At first, Solus's eyes narrow at Estinien's comment. How could it not be about being worthy? There has to be a worthiness, otherwise that would imply the cost to save everything from oblivion was meaningless. That all the sacrifice and pain that he and his suffered—all their destroyed hopes, dreams, and futures—was for nothing. Their attempts to bring back their paradise, to secure themselves a future that could hold up to the perfection of the past...was all in vain.

He can't accept that, he can't feel right handing over everything they worked so hard to protect to those who could not and would not do the same in the face of true annihilation. They can barely face life in unity, but should they face true annihilation? True death? He knows they would not do the same as him and his. They would buckle, they would choke, they would die and so would the star.

But as Estinien continues, he feels...slightly better, even if he doesn't agree with the worthiness comment. He can't. What Estinien presents is...a logical yet sentimental take. They are, in a sense, soldiers upon a battlefield, trying to protect their home, but the caveat is that one cannot survive while the other still lives.

His expression grows contemplative and sullen as his gaze drifts from Estinien, focusing on nothing in particular.]

Our existences are at an impasse. For my people to be saved, it costs the lives of yours, but for yours to stay living, it costs mine their permanent oblivion.

[He sighs, shaking his head. Bringing a shaky hand up to thread his fingers through his hair, brushing back the white streak, mixing it messily with the dark brown, only for it to fall back down the moment his hand rests in his lap once more.]

...But even if you will not see reason, [translated: the worthiness issue] at least now you know the truth of our motivations. We do not relish in the misery we cause you mortals, we act out of necessity, and ill can I sit idly by in this broken world while the Great Rejoining lists ever further from its rightful course.

[Life is often meaningless. Not...overall, of course, everyone's existence has meaning, even if it's as simple as that of a sheep farmer. But individual events? Certainly. Why else would something like the destruction of Ferndale happen--a village of naught but simple farmers and shepherds, eking out a life from what the land could give?]

It would seem that we are.

[Look, you're asking him to condone you sacrificing all--or a great portion of, if it doesn't take all--of the Spoken Races. You're obviously not willing to sacrifice your people for his, why should it be the other way around?]

So long as your current course is the only way. If there was another, there are those among us who would walk it with you.

[He can't see the Scions, nevermind the Warrior, simply...giving up, if there was a way to accomplish Solus's goals without all the bloodshed. After all, even if the Warrior and Alphinaud were seeking solace in Ishgard, they could have contented themselves to wait until the storm had passed, then been on their way. There was no reason for them to get involved in the Dragonsong War, not truly, and yet they had, and they'd been dogged in their goal to end it.]

...This is why I have enlisted myself among the Scions on the First. If there is yet a path of lesser tragedy, then I would take it.

[And it would seem that's fair possible, if the Warrior of Light proves capable.]

Should they prove themselves capable, we may yet find such a way...

[Ultimately and contradictory of how he boasts and how he belittles mortals, he would avoid such death if possible. It's tiresome to have to keep his emotions in constant check, to constantly remind himself of the emotional detachment he needs in order to handle what it is he does. What suffering he yet has to cause and has caused countless times before.

He pauses a moment, bringing a hand to his throat which has a pretty dark blossoming bruise. Clearing it, he continues but there's still a notable strain to his voice.]

I approached the scions to seek their cooperation, to judge whether or not our goals are truly incompatible--and I have yet to see the proof that they are not.

[And yet the Warrior is back on the Source. Estinien doesn't know what happened on the First--he'd arrived back after the man had given his report, and he hadn't stuck around long enough to learn what happened. It didn't matter, he had thought, and both he and the Warrior had better things to do than to make the man repeat himself.

He has to wonder what happened, now.

Estinien glances over at Solus--the talking has to be enough to hurt his throat, with that bruise. And all the rest of them, at that.]

Then let us hope that they are.

[Because while he might not be able to forgive all the heinous shit you've already done, it'd be best to not have more of it happen.]

Can you walk the rest of the way?

[It's probably for the better he doesn't know that there's some weird gap in their personal timelines. That the Warrior has returned to the Source, leaving his fate shrouded in mystery.

Pain has little been a deterrent to anything Solus does, and he'd be damned if a little pain were to stop him from talking. Still, he should probably give it a rest. With a nod to the first statement and a sidelong glance at the second, Solus gestures for Estinien to get up.]

Well, let us see if these weary knees of mine will cooperate. If not, then you may very well have to carry me, dragoon. But I'm certain that'll prove no issue for you.

[His tone has shifted, back to that playful and nasally sound it usually holds. The more serious, lower octave it held before utterly gone.]

[Especially since Estinien wouldn't be able to tell you anything, oops.

He. Really hopes he doesn't have to.

But at any rate, he goes ahead and gets up--without seeming like his knees are those of a 90 year old--and goes to try to help Solus up.]

[As Estinien aids him, Solus wobbly gets to his feet, and all seems well.

For about half a second, before with a warning grunt of pain, his legs give out again and he grasps at Estinien's shoulders to keep himself from hitting the ground so absolutely. He smiles wryly, tinged with annoyance and pain.]

...'Twould seem these knees of mine have had quite enough of that. Time to put those impressive muscles of yours to use, eh?

[For as much as he'd like to keep his dignity intact, he's gotta find some enjoyment out of this horrid situation...]

[Estinien sighs. It's not like Solus is the first injured person he's had to carry off--it's depressingly commonplace for him, really--but he's certainly the most obnoxious.

He repositions his pack so it's hanging off his arm, and turns his back to Solus.]

Arms over my shoulders.

[If he's going to drag you, he's definitely not inclined to do it with you over his shoulders like a sack of popotoes.]

Yes, sir.

[Of course that's said in that flirty-mock tone of his as he languidly places his arms over Estinien's shoulders as instructed, pushing his front flush to Estinien's back. It's not the most...elegant of carries, but he can't truly complain, and maybe he'd appreciate the proximity a whole lot more if his groin hadn't been kicked so much.

Oh well...

It does give him a pretty close up look of Estinien's hair though, and as he lifts and carries him, he can't help but...scrutinize it. Tucking his head a little close to the other's ear, he speaks softly as to not alarm him, but it's also...kind of intimate seeming.]

Dragoon, you really ought to take better care of your hair. Do you not realize how many split ends you have? If you desire it, once we're done with the nonsense at the center, I could properly groom you.

[It's that or you get slung over his shoulders. This is less horrible for both of you. Though if he knew that thought about appreciation, he would probably drop you on your ass.

There's a bit of breath before he starts talking, and that's enough that Estinien doesn't flinch, but he does tense a little, and his eyes narrow. Not that Solus can see that.]

What does that matter? Tis not necessary.

[That's why he's not mentioning that stray thought, he knows better!]

Oh, you foolish man, it is entirely necessary. [He basically purrs it out, shifting a little to try to get more comfortable. The weight and pressure on his ribs is getting a little...hm, unbearable perhaps to a mortal, and idly he wonders if something got broken.]

You would feel utterly rejuvenated, I could make you feel like a new man.

[Smart man.]

For you, mayhap.

[He would shrug, but...well, you're kinda heavy, and weighing down his shoulders. He figures they're about halfway to the Pokemon Center. But they are attracting some stares--a grumpy ren faire reject carrying around a bloody guy wearing a dress is not something you see every day.

He's just. Not going to say anything to that, because it sounds lascivious and he is uncomfortable. Why are you like this.]

Did Ishgard never teach you the practicality of cleanliness? Truly, I thought somewhere as prestigious as the Holy See would know better.

[Wow he is not even being that flirty right now! Okay, maybe he is a little, but he's truly only meaning the benefits of getting properly cleaned up and tended to in a totally platonic way!

He doesn't seem to notice the stares, or at the very least he's fine with ignoring it. Maybe he like the attention, but his is solely on Estinien at the moment.]

Bathing, yes.

[Messing with hair? Look, it's a thing, but it's never been something he cared about. He ignores his hair until it gets in his way, then he hacks it off.]

Tis only hair. So long as it isn't in my way, that's all I care for it.

[Even that's debatable, Estinien. How often do you wash, hm???]

How about a deal then? [He tilts his head to the side as he gives him a sidelong glance.] Just this once, allow me to properly treat this mane of yours and whatever else needs tending to, and if you truly dislike it by the end, I will hold my tongue on the matter for the foreseeable future.

How does that sound?

[L o o k, just because he doesn't slather himself in perfumed oils and doesn't bother taking care of his hair doesn't mean he doesn't bathe and brush said hair out every once in a while. He bathes when he's dirty. ~~Despite all the memes about him being a trash goblin. Taking a shower when you're horrifically depressed is hard.~~]

Naught needs tending to, I am not a pack chocobo.

[Despite...you riding him like one at the moment...]

I fear you are incapable of holding your tongue.

[He would save a lot of time brushing his hair if he let Solus take care of the split ends!!!]

On the contrary, I see much and more that does. And furthering that contrarian's note, I can indeed hold my tongue, you merely have given me little reason to.

Come, are you afraid you might enjoy yourself? Afterwards, you will be on your travels, and you can let your hair and state of being degrade till your heart's content!

And hear you ache and moan if it's in a state after all you've done?

[...you really can't argue he's got you pinned there. He stops short of trying to impersonate your voice, though, because he's not quite that childish.]

I have seen the worst of it, my face is fair within its bowels. I will not complain should you come back to me and it being returned to such a condition.

[beat]

At least not overmuch.

[He would so find it amusing if he had, however. Hearing Estinien speak in a tone outside of the gruff monotone he seems fit to keep would be a treat!]

You needs must pardon me if I do not believe you.

[You're literally complaining about his hair while he's dragging you to get medical treatment after you got your shit kicked in. What are your priorities?]

Fine. So long as you don't get yourself nearly killed again. Next time I shall leave you to the consequences of your actions.

[He'd rather not get called to drag your ass to the Pokemon Center again.]

'Twould be foolish not to—I mean what I say and I say what I mean.

[But hey look at that! Seems to have worked just as planned! He knew if he was adamant enough, Estinien would give in.]

Ah, so you can indeed be reasoned with. Marvelous! But, do not worry, friend, I plan not to get myself into such a predicament. Besides, had I known he'd have reacted so aggressively over my uttering a single name...

[Yes, congratulations, you are more hard-headed than Estinien is. It's shocking, honestly, but he's been rather open to change recently. Moreso out of a 'well, I didn't expect to survive anything I did in the last few months so...' sort of mood, but...

He's not sure what impression he'd gotten of Steven, but he's not presuming that Solus didn't do something to invite the aggressive response. Mostly because...well, he's also punched you in the face fairly recently.

He just shakes his head slightly, and walks them through the door of the Pokemon Center.]

[He's quite proud of this fact, it works in his favor more than against, or so he thinks. Regardless, it has now, and that's something to be satisfied with! But hey, changes in your life plan usually does a fairly good job of making you open to change, so it's better to embrace it than fight against it! If only Solus were so willing...

And here they are at the center! Of course the sight of them inspires worry from not only the staff, but other patrons. They're quick to usher the two back into an exam room, to which Solus is both relieved and...irritated by. Less so because of the help being offered, but rather because it drives home his frailty in this horrid reality he's forced to live.

Seeing as Nurse Joy is busy with examining Solus for his injuries, they usher Estinien back to the waiting area. Perhaps it's presumptuous on the staff but they give him the paperwork to fill out for Solus with whatever it is he knows, encouraging him to not stress too much over it. The man brought him in, so clearly there must be some relation between them, whether by blood or burden. In this case, definitely the latter.

It all goes relatively smoothly, and for their trouble Solus learns he's got himself a cracked rib, a moderately severe hip flexor strain, both knees are fairly bruised and likewise strained, not to mention all the other impact injuries from the fall and the resulting ass kicking. They suggest treating him with their machines, heal him right up, but he settles on refusing such. Allowing this to heal in a more natural way.

Of course this decision is made out of Estinien's earshot, mainly because he wouldn't want the man to begrudge his decision. Little does he want to suffer such pain, but he's feeling a bit...experimental. Once it's all done, he's been given some compression braces for his knees, some pain medication to help with the...everything, and they're wheeling him out in a wheelchair to Estinien. At least he looks a bit better with the dried blood cleaned up.]

I certainly racked up the list of injuries it seems, but what luck they would be kind enough to lend me this mobility device—though I must admit I was growing ever fond of being carried. [He waves for Estinien to come over to push him.] Come, my apartment is not far from here.

[Estinien has left the form completely blank, basically just putting it on a side table the second the nurse turned their back. When Solus is wheeled back out, Estinien isn't sure whether to roll his eyes or just sigh, he settles for doing neither.

Looks like he's just going to have to push you now.

Even though the receptionist explained to him that they had the ability to completely heal you.

Why would you not choose that.

Whatever.

He just hauls himself out of the chair and goes over, since apparently we're doing this now. Iceheart walks along to the side, glancing up at Solus in the chair every so often as they walk out and into the street.]

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