Moving Concerns

Log Info

• Title: Moving Concerns
• Emitter: Jinks
• Characters: Lyme, Ravenstongue
• Place: Soldier's Defense
• Time: January 30th, 2022
• Summary: Boti is working on some late-night carving in the Defense' mess and keeping a curious eye on an exhausted and unawares Sylvanori Vanguard when Ravenstongue comes to look in on him. Lyme is recovering from a (dammed) beaver attack at the hospital and arrives for a late night meal. Lyme and Ravenstongue discuss their recent encounter in the Greatwood and Boti listens, pausing briefly to look after the Vanguard as he's falling asleep. Lyme fills his belly and has to depart, leaving the two half-Sil to discuss the temporary nature of their friendship.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  At a glance around A06: The Soldier's Defense  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Boti           Half-Elf   Male     Adolescent half-Sylvanori with shaggy brown hair.             
Lyme           Orc        Butch    Black-skinned oruch of suitable stature.
Omondi         Sylvanori  Male     Dark-skinned Vanguard with dozens of thin, blonde braids.                     
Ravenstongue   Half-Elf   Female   Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.                      
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Lower Gardens District: the Soldier's Defense, late night

Outside of the gardens it's cold and wet. Inside of the verdant district it's mild and damp. Regardless of your location relative to the perimeter it's late and quiet and the sky is dark and empty. Eluna and her sister stars are blotted out by thick clouds.

Inside of the Soldier's Defense it's warm and dim. The lights in the general areas are low. Some of the private rooms are dark with patients sleeping sound and recovering within. Staff and volunteering holymen keep their positions and make their rounds to ensure nothing goes amiss in the quiet time before dawn.

One of the long halls meant for repast and refreshment is mostly-empty. The long, common tables all-but abandoned. The serving benches are unmanned, with little but some leftover breads, cheeses, and cooling stewpots left behind for those in need of a late night meal.

At one end of the hall is a dark-skinned Sylvanori, half-asleep and leaning over a cold bowl of stew. The man wears a fantastic mithril breastplate and a grey-gold tabard to mark him as a Vanguard, his blonde braids draping around his face. He has dark rings beneath his eyes and the parma strapped to his back seems especially heavy.

Opposite the man, at the far end of the long, long tables, is Boti. The half-Sil works at a piece of wood with a whittling knife and does his best to only occasionally glance at the full-blooded elf. Little shavings are scattered around the table before him and a basket sits to his right on a bench full of toiletries and fresh linnens.

Lyme is currently a patient here, dressed in a simple robe, his dark skin grey. He looks tired as he grazes at the common table, looking like he slept through the main meal.

Ravenstongue steps into the Soldier's Defense, Pothy in tow on her shoulder. She looks at the white raven on her shoulder as he whistles a merry little tune to her. "Yes, we're here to visit Boti," she says to Pothy, as though she's answering a question.

"Snacks," Pothy then replies.

"I don't know if there's snacks inside, and even if there were, you wouldn't be eating them. Those are snacks for Boti and everyone else here." Ravenstongue looks around for Boti and smiles as she spots him, giving him a little wave.

Boti is ready for the visit, it would seem. He sets down his knife carefully and pulls a bundled handkerchief from the basket to his right. He works a knot loose and opens it, revealing a half-finished bit of nut-loaf for Pothy.

The half-Sil waves Ravenstongue over and points at the dozing Vanguard, wondering in a whisper "Do you know him?" As if a bribe, he digs out a little figurine carved of Pothy crowing, painted white with blue dots for eyes. "'Snacks.'" echoes the half-Sil with a grin. He glances at the black-skinned Oruch and tilts his head.

The Vanguard does his best to eat, fighting the uphill battle to stay away and get the spoon from his bowl to his face. He pauses, then, and forces his eyes open as he pats his cheek roughly, muttering to himself. Dropping the spoon to one side, he lifts the bowl and slurps a mouthful of the cold food..

Lyme looks up, head tilting, towards Raven and the raven. He curls around his plate a little protectively, wincing. Glancing up, he nods, looking back towards Boti.

Pothy looks at Boti with incredible warmth in his blue eyes as he looks at the little figurine of himself. He flies from Ravenstongue's shoulder to land on Boti's shoulder, the raven nuzzling almost aggressively against Boti's face. "Good boy, good boy," Pothy says in Ravenstongue's voice, almost in a soothing manner.

Ravenstongue can't help but smile as she looks at Pothy just loving on Boti. "He loves it, of course. Just like he did the last one," she remarks, before she looks at the Vanguard and raises a brow. "Umm, no, I don't... think I do?" she replies, looking back to Boti.

She gives Lyme a little wave. "I do know him, though. How's it going?"

Lyme picks at his food before waving. "Well, thank you. The treatment here is very nice." A pause. "A sanctuary of healing," he says as if quoting something he's heard. Ravenstongue pages: It's been put in. I added the link to the map and the +tinit at the bottom, too.

Boti is looking healthier-still, starting to put on weight now with the regular meals and exercise of his chores at the Soldier's Defense. The scars from the Pox might stay with him forever but the color returns to his skin and his hair looks fuller as the vigor of youth returns. He pinches a bit of the nut-loaf and lifts it up to the raven, reciprocating Pothy's affection with the weight of his own head.

"He came the same day as the first mean soldier," Boti tells Ravenstongue in a low voice, busying himself with watching the Vanguard. "They said he's from from far away..." he trails off, glancing again at Lyme when the Oruch speaks. He takes the moment to stroke Pothy let his hands rest. His whittling is a flat disc wtih a bumpy ridge to one side. He's still working it out of a flat section of wood and there's little in the way of detail.

The Vanguard remains oblivious. He's half-exhausted and struggling to stay awake long enough to eat. He has his gladius on the table to his left as well as a handkerchief-cum-facemask. Gloves are stacked, too, and a little pack is on the floor by the bench.

"That's good to hear. I've also gotten treatment here recently," Ravenstongue says in reply to Lyme's statement. "It was very thorough."

Pothy is absolutely loving his snack given to him and the affection, his tail feathers wagging up and down in the usual happy-Pothy manner. Ravenstongue, meanwhile, looks back at the Vanguard as Boti explains about him. "Do you remember where he's from?" she asks, although she winces a little at the mention of a mean soldier. Her hand goes unconsciously to the arm that the soldier from the other day carved into.

Lyme nods slowly, going back to his eating. "That beaver did my guts something good. They've been good at getting it all fitting together again a little more than battlefield healing could."

Boti stops and thinks. Offering "the woods" in the common tongue before he finally remembers and says, "the Mythwood" in Sildanyari. He stands carefully with one hand steadying Pothy, and sorts through his basket before walking down the long row of cafeteria setting. He sets the linens down and moves the Vanguard's bowl aside. The Sylvanori doesn't react when the half-Sil eases the spoon out of his grasp and sets it next to the bowl.

Carefully, the young half-Sil folds a sheet and places it on the table before taking a second and draping it across the Vanguard's shoulders. He whispers something, frowning in concentration as he tries to remember the words in his native tongue, and lowers the cleric's head down to the folded bedding. Boti stands there, over the sleeping Serrielite, and tilts his head with his brow furrowed, stroking Pothy.

It's only a moment or two before the dark-skinned man is snoring quietly and Boti leaves him. The adolescent walks down the table back to Ravenstongue and gives her a hug. "Hi, Cor'lana," he greets.

"The Mythwood? That's where Telamon is from. You remember Telamon, right?" Ravenstongue can't help but smile widely when she mentions him, her eyes lighting up as only the lovestruck can. "Maybe they know each other. That'd be so funny if they did."

Pothy maintains his vigil on Boti's shoulder, not minding him trying to do things in addition to basking in the soft affection that Pothy so readily gives.

When Boti goes to give Ravenstongue a hug, Ravenstongue giggles a little and returns the hug, patting him on the head. "Hi Saboti. You remembered my name. I guess you've been caring for that guy for a bit, huh?" Lyme sits back, eating his meal with a little more gusto now. His posture remains somewhat deflated, though.

"Don't even remind me about the beaver," Ravenstongue says to Lyme over her shoulder. "Nasty thing. I'm so sorry it got you so badly!"

Lyme looks up, and blinks a little, chewing to clear his mouth. He swallows, throat working, and then answers with a wan smile. "That's what I get paid for, right? To get in the way of the scary things with big teeth."

Boti steps back, folding his arms and shaking his head. "He's helping with people that are sick..." explains the half-Sil. "He's not supposed to be here but he was hurt and he stayed and now he's helping." When Pothy shifts and croaks the half-Sil remembers the raven and returns to his stroking, looking up to Ravenstongue and then to the sleeping Vanguard.

"... I had a dream about a star showing me how to go home," he admits, quietly, leaning close and turner to mutter for the sorceress alone. "He has stars on his armor," the adolescent adds.

There's a pause and he leans across the table, finding another piece of loaf and feeding it to his passenger. "Beaver?" he asks, looking between Ravenstongue and Lyme.

Lyme nods slowly. "Beaver. Biggest and maddest damned beaver I've ever seen." From the look on his face, he seems to understand how that sounds, at least a little. Pothy leeeeaaaaannnns into Boti's stroking. He makes happy raven croaks again. Yeah, that's the stuff. Keep going...

"Maybe he will, if you ask nicely," Ravenstongue replies, just as quietly. "Tel and I bought a house in the city, though, so you /have/ to come and visit your big sister, okay?" She smiles, but there's a little furrow of the brows giving it a slightly sad note.

She nods to Lyme's statement, a look of horror on her face again as she thinks about the beaver. "It was harrowing. It was a giant beaver, and it summoned little beavers, too. Lyme and I fought it together, along with some other adventurers, too."

"Hi, Lyme." Boti offers, listening closely and frowning at words like 'harrowing.' "... I'm Saleh Saboti," he offers with a nod leading into a half-bow. A half-Sil nearing adulthood with shaggy sandy brown hair and deep blue eyes, Boti is scarred at his cheek and neck from Pox. His clothing is ill-fitting and patched but in decent shape and he has a fine leather bracer on his left forearm that pokes out from under a baggy sleeve on occasion. "I have to stay here and help," he adds.

The boy blinks then and looks up at Ravenstongue, frowning. "I remember him. Telamon. Pothy does his voice, too." He scritches the raven's breast. "But if you have a home here..." He stops, looking at the floor. A huff and he looks back up at the sorceress without meeting her eyes. "If I go home you're going to stay," he realizes. Lyme nods gravely. "Hello, Saleh. My name is Lyme -- I think I've seen you helping people around." Then he subsides, and tucks into his food once more.

Lyme has departed.

Pothy leans into the scritches, too, more than happy to receive such attentive affection from Boti. "Stay," he says, mimicking Boti's voice. Apparently he means the scritches, but it could be interpreted differently.

Ravenstongue nods, frowning a little. "Yeah, that's what it means if you go home," she says. "I could try to come and visit--but I'm an adventurer. I help people, just like how I saved you. So I can't visit you a lot if you go back."

"My family is Saleh." Boti tells Lyme, distracted from Ravenstongue but still frowning. "I am Saboti but some call me Saboti. Only the oldest is called Saleh..." He frowns deeply, leaning into Pothy when he considers that he might qualify for such a title.

And then Ravenstongue is describing another harsh reality. He turns and takes a few steps, sitting back down at his whittling. The half-Sil takes a moment to push around the shavings and chunks cut away. "You could help people anywhere. You could help me when I'm home," he offers, looking back and frowning again

"I could," Ravenstongue says, "but Telamon and I are pretty serious about each other. We've talked about getting married. That's why we bought a house and moved in together. Better to live together first than to get married and find out you can't tolerate each other at all--"

She catches herself. Boti doesn't need relationship advice. He's not even grown yet. "The point is, I'm not just making decisions for myself anymore. I have to think about Telamon, too."

Pothy is not concerned with any of this talk. He is still on Boti's shoulder and watches him work away at the whittling. "Pretty."

"Hm," thinks Boti. He moves the knife deliberately, changing his grip and turning his materials around on the table. The half-Sil doesn't make another shave or cut before he just drops the blade and pulls out a little pocket scabbard to slide the knife away. He picks up the unfinished project and tosses it into his basket and stands again.

"Telamon isn't from here, either. You're just pretending this is your home." He takes Pothy in both hands and sets the Raven down next to the rest of his loaf-leavings, stroking the bird one last time. "You both could be an adventurers anywhere. If you wanted to."

The half-Sil collects the basket and holds it in both hands, shoulders slumping. "Maybe it was just a bad dream..."

"Pretending?" Ravenstongue raises a brow. "Boti--you can make anywhere your home. It doesn't have to be where you're born. After all, I was born far away in Llyranost--but I grew up in Rune. Then I came here to be an adventurer. Now this city is my home. There's nothing for me in Rune except an empty house, and I don't even know where I was born in Llyranost, anyway."

Pothy accepts the very polite movement down to the loaf-leavings, croaking softly as Boti strokes him again. He leans over to peer at what's in the basket, ever-curious corvid tendencies coming to the forefront again.

"I don't know where those places are." Boti admits, holding the basket of fresh bedclothes and his pieces of laundry clean and folded. "But this isn't home. You're nice. And Luckbringer Saoirse. And heart-guard Sayardu. And mister Shinesheen and Telamon." A shallow shrug.

"... if I leave I can't see Pothy, " he realizes, blinking tears. "This isn't fair." The half-Sil looks up. "If you know magic where can I go away from here that you can bring people, too. The little house outside the city with the big fire?"

"Hmm." Ravenstongue thinks for a moment. "I do know magic. But I'm not powerful enough yet to go teleporting around. I do know people that could help me, though. And I'm getting stronger every day..."

Pothy notices the tears. He flies back onto Boti's shoulder to nuzzle against his face, like he's trying to wipe the tears away but knows better than to stick his beak so close to Boti's eyes.

Ravenstongue walks up to Boti and she hugs him again. "We'll figure it out. I promise we will."

"Alright," Boti sniffles, embarrassed by his tears. He leans into the hug and holds Pothy to his face with one hand, keeping the basket in the other. The half-Sil watches the Vanguard, exhausted and motionless in sleep.

"I don't know what to do..." he admits, rubbing his face against the raven's soft feathers. He mumbles a 'good Pothy' into the bird and closes his eyes. "Miss Saoirse said I could stay up and do art for awhile but she's up early and I have to help." Reluctantly, he sets Pothy down on the table again and starts towards one set of doors. "If I have to go I'll say good-bye first," he promises.

"Good Pothy," Pothy echoes back, seeming rather pleased with Boti's affection and his approval. He flaps onto Ravenstongue's shoulder.

Ravenstongue smiles sweetly at Boti as he lets go. "I should go home for the night anyway," she says. "I just wanted to check on you. Good night, Saboti."

She always says his name like he really is her little brother. There's a real love and warmth there--both in her voice and in her eyes. Pothy also says, "Good night, Saboti," in the exact same way, an echo to chase Boti as he goes for the doors.

"Good night, Cor'lana," Boti returns, pausing at the door for just a moment before pushing through and disappearing.

The Vanguard continues to sleep, slumped forward and resting on the makeshift pillow after a hard day's work.