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[mantlebearer]

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a day or so after the april event debacle—

[ashioki]

[ it's not guilt that he feels — because guilt would imply he owes silver anything, and there is still a stubborn part of him that refuses to acknowledge that he might owe anyone here any other part of himself than what's already been taken and tampered with — but it's something potent enough that when he finds himself sitting along his bed the following evening, keenly aware of the possibility of the other person sitting not too far beyond the wall that divides them, oushi finds himself feeling a sudden compulsion to — talk. no — to offer something. not necessarily something that's owed, but certainly something that can still matter anyway.

he sits, back against that wall, and speaks up clearly enough that if silver is there on the other side, and awake for that matter, he would hear it. ]

A doctor. I wanted to be a doctor.

[ an apology that isn't quite an apology. an olive branch, insofar as he can manage one. ]

[mantlebearer]

[ he's not good at letting things lie. he's never been good at that — when there is something to pursue, he will do so; when there is a question to be asked, he will do so. but he is also patient, because his success so often depends entirely on the timing of things... and so, in this case, he has let oushi be, hasn't tried to contact him, talk to him, despite wanting to. because it had been clear that oushi needed to be — if silver wants to get through to him, it'll have to be when oushi is in a better mindset.

and so, that night, when there's a familiar voice that startles him awake from the half-slumber he'd been in, the words taste almost like a victory.

almost like relief, too, though he is quick to swallow that when he answers, ]

What kind of a doctor? There's different types, right?

[ashioki]

Yeah, but it didn't really matter to me at the time.

[ he's taken up his usual position during these late-night chats. back to the wall, head turned up towards the ceiling. he's turned the light off some time ago, so he's essentially just sitting in the dark, but sleep hasn't really been on his mind — for more than just the reason of his lingering guilt. ]

Everything I ever did or was interested in... anything that actually mattered, all of it was because of my older sister. She did it first, and I always followed along. When she was twelve, she said she wanted to be a doctor. A couple of months later, I said I wanted to be one, too. It stuck with me for longer, but not long enough I actually cared to look into a specialty.

[ it is, perhaps, the most he's ever said in one go. he feels a little silly for it, like he's said way too much despite silver literally asking. maybe it's because a lot of what he's saying isn't what he should be saying. ]

...Did you make it out of the woods okay?

[mantlebearer]

[ he hums as oushi speaks — low enough that it's probably not audible on the other side of the wall, and yet he does it regardless, to signal that he is listening, lying here as he is, in the dark, staring at the ceiling. ]

You must have looked up to her a lot.

[ that is the most likely explanation, there: a young boy, wanting to be like his sister, and so choosing to emulate her in his actions and interests... but not committed enough to make it last. perhaps oushi doesn't realise it, but it already tells silver quite a lot about him.

his answer is a few beats delayed. ]

Is that concern I hear? [ sorry, he has to be a little shit, it's in his dna. ] Obviously I did. Ran into someone else, came back with them.

[ashioki]

[ no, actually, oushi hears that hum loud and clear. it's something that ought to trouble him, had he any space in his mind to worry about anything else. ]

She was a lot of things I always wanted to be, [ he finds himself admitting out loud, perhaps for the first time ever. he sits with that for a second, feeling something expand and ache in his chest. his sister hasn't been living at home for a long time, but he had never before felt such a deep pang of missing her as he does now. if she were the one here, she would be handling this all so much better than him. ]

Yeah, [ he eventually answers, a quiet thing that he hopes carries anyway. maybe if he were feeling a little better, he might have blustered and avoided admitting something like that, but the embarrassment that comes with such a confession pales in comparison to everything else he feels. ]

I'm sorry.

[ his words feel so wholy inadequate for just how sorry he is, actually. getting abandoned on its own is already bad enough, but silver could have really gotten hurt out there on his own. all oushi had cared about at the time was getting out of there, as fast as possible, and even if part of that was amplified by those stupid fucking rocks, it doesn't change the fact he had still been the one to do it. ]

Next time, [ and somehow, oushi feels like there'll always be a next time, for silver, ] go with someone more reliable.

text • un: aemond.targaryen

[perzyssy]

Silver.

Answer me with haste should this message find you.

un: walrus

[mantlebearer]

[ well this isn't concerning or anything... ]

Of course it finds me, it is sent directly to this device thing. Like a letter but more immediate, and reliable.

But here I am, as requested.

[perzyssy]

( He’s too irritated to make some kind of sharp comment about Silver being an unlikely authority on digital messaging, and he ignores the man’s “well duh” so he can press on: )

How do you feel?

[mantlebearer]

[ he was explained the whole thing quite clearly! so now he can flaunt that knowledge.... no? no. okay. ]

I've been worse.

[ but this is... interesting. ]

I would ask the same, but somehow you don't strike me as the kind of man to want to know out of politeness. Which means there's a different reason.

Mind telling me what that is?

[ and it's funny — aemond asks him how he feels, and the answer is he'd been feeling almost anxious, a kind of buzzing underneath his skin, making him snappish and irritable. except that is somehow lessening right now; maybe he'd just needed someone to talk to.

(he's an excellent liar. unfortunately, that extends to lying to himself.) ]

[perzyssy]

( Aemond dislikes intuitive types, as a rule. It is galling to have spent his childhood wishing to be seen, realising it will never happen, and hammering his loneliness into reflective armour as an adult, only to have someone disregard his painful efforts and stare right through to him anyway.

The lie comes easily: )

Our exposure to the Katalyth could have left us with lingering side-effects. I want to know if you are experiencing any unusual symptoms.

( It has to be the Katalyth. It has to be — because if they had imprinted in the Woods they would have realised it at the time, wouldn’t they? Never mind that he already feels several degrees calmer for talking to him, as they are now. )

You say you have been worse. Should I assume that you have also been better?

text; un: bugs

[honorism]

[A picture comes through, a picture of a dragonfly, emerald green in color, having in a rare moment taken a rest on a branch]

Isn't he lovely? I didn't know they would come near the city.

Just one on its own can eat hundreds of mosquitos per day and can fly 35 miles/56 kilometers per hour!

[mantlebearer]

[ so, hm, he's got just one question: what the fuck. ]

He is a sight to be sure, yes. Very... bright.

But if it can truly eat that many mosquitos, well, seems to be it's doing the world a very big favour there.

[honorism]

I think it's a way to ward off predators, in a way. Most won't eat something brightly colored, as it could be poisonous to them. Much how we humans avoid snakes that are brightly colored certain ways because they're dangerous.

Unlike the lion and shark, which have a success rate of 25% and 50% respectively, the dragonfly has a record-breaking success rate of 95% when it comes to successfully completing a hunt. According to my books, anyhow.

[mantlebearer]

[ well that sure is very interesting and all.... sort of. he has nothing to add to it, so, ]

You certainly know a lot about dragonflies. Is this... a hobby of yours?

[honorism]

Yes, I enjoy them. They’re interesting creatures. I’ve collected spiders and crickets, and a giant centipede one. That one was my favorite.

Oh. My name is Helaena Targaryen, by the way. I meant to send the picture to someone else, but then you let me talk about my insects, so it wasn’t so bad of a mistake.

un: boltcutters

[imperatour]

Healing?

[mantlebearer]

[ he has to read the message a few times, before the brevity and the content connect into the image of a woman, strong and silent and capable. ]

Slow and steady, yes. But I'm told that wins the game, so I suppose it could be worse.

Thank you, again, for your help.

[imperatour]

Glad to hear it.

It's nothing. Gotta stick together when we can.

[mantlebearer]

That is a nice sentiment.

And you? I am taking the liberty to hope that you've been well.

[imperatour]

Clean water and no one's tried to kill me lately. I can't complain.

text • un: aemond.targaryen

[perzyssy]

I was unkind to you, that day on your ship. It was unfair of me.

[mantlebearer]

Perhaps. But if I wanted to spend time with someone kind, I would go see your sister. And yet it was you I asked to be there, not her.

Still... apology accepted. [ no, he's not even going to pretend that wasn't an apology, even if it didn't contain a single sorry. ]

[perzyssy]

( Aemond would like nothing more than to snap that his message was no apology, and that he isn’t sorry for behaving the way that he did, and yet— )

You will inform me should your injury cause any further illness. Understood?

[mantlebearer]

[ and yet. ]

Loud and clear. For the record... I am sorry I didn't tell you. I suppose I thought it would be an inconvenience. That it is something I can endure, and so you shouldn't be bothered with it.

It seems I was wrong.

[perzyssy]

If you are inconveniencing me, I will tell you. Even those who hold no trust in me at all will trust me as far as that.

I am not subtle. Perhaps you haven’t noticed.