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[It's too quiet.]

[Rick's been wandering the Tower since Thursday, trying to help whoever he can with their shadows, checking up on them every few hours when he can catch his breath. But after yesterday, he's lost track of nearly all of them...and earlier today, he watched yet another die. After making a full circuit of all the safer floors and the stairwell, he's only now beginning to realize that perhaps Sertoria's death was just a continuation on a pattern that he's somehow missed.]

[It's evening, now, and around him the Tower has become eerily silent. Rick's staggered his way to the top floor dorms; his collar is almost as clear as it was Wednesday. He knows that the network hasn't been working well, but he's so alone, so terrified that he's failed all the people that he's tried so hard to help, and this is the only other way he can think of to try and contact them. The message he sends is short...]

Is anyone still up and around? There's so few people left...if you're still alive, I'm on the first floor of the dorms. We should stick together. Don't let the shadows win this.

[...but the message that comes out is glitched, nearly unreadable in spots. Rick paces between terminals, reloading his post to see if the problem fixes itself--and then, appropriately enough, he gives one of the computers a solid, frustrated kick, and collapses on the opposite side of the hall.]

[It's doubtful that anyone will be lucky or persistent enough to decipher Rick's message. If they do, though, he'll be curled up by the wall where he left himself. A shadow rubs his back.]

[You tried, honey...but you can't save everyone, you know. I told you it wasn't worth the effort and you just didn't listen...]

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[Waver was largely unfazed by the lingering shadow; his own had gone mostly quiet after persistent ignoring. Ultimately, they ranked very low on his list of things to be concerned about. The lecturer leaned over and held out a hand, sighing.]

Better than you, I'd estimate. Can you stand?

[Rick hesitates only to nod, then sluggishly reach out to grab Waver's wrist. It's not the most convenient hand available, but the other one has a pretty nasty cut on the inside of the palm and doesn't seem to move very well. At least it's been washed (following Sertoria's persistent nagging).]

Th--Thank you. [Following Waver's lead, he gives the fellow's hand a tug to try and right himself--which hopefully doesn't take the other man with him. That being said, between neglecting food, hiking the stairs and stress, Rick's lost a noticeable amount of weight.]

[Waver wasn't the most physically strong individual, but it wasn't necessarily easy to knock him over. He pulled Rick to his feet with a disapproving look--he knew what not taking care of oneself looked like from years of experience.]

Don't worry about it. You're not looking all that well--are you sure everything's alright?

[Rick is lifted to his feet--and then, as if to answer the question, his knees immediately buckle and he stumbles precariously forward in an attempt to catch himself. Hopefully Waver has a good enough hold on him that he doesn't land flat on his face instead.]

Edited (go home icon you're drunk) 2013-08-18 20:21 (UTC)

...That bad, huh?

[Waver supported him the best he could, staggering slightly at being thrown off balance.]

[Rick clutches at Waver's shoulder to keep himself steady, which more or less works save for his alarmingly wobbly legs. He laughs hoarsely, looking rather embarrassed.]

Aha...s-s-sorry. [And there's the blush.] I-It's...it's b-been a l-long week.

Don't worry about it. Do you need help getting back to your room?

[Obvious question, but Waver thought he might as well ask rather than be pushy about the matter.]

M-Maybe. Yes. [He suddenly looks very worried.] ...A-Are you g-going t-to leave m-me there?

I can stay for a while, if you'd prefer I did.

[He smiles, apologetic and exceptionally bashful.] If...if i-it's n-not too m-much t-trouble... [Maybe it wouldn't be such an awkward request if he explained himself?] ...The sh--shadows a-are, um...q-quieter when there's c-company.

Believe me, I've noticed. Don't worry so much about it. There's not a whole lot else that requires my immediate attention.

[Rick nods and visibly relaxes.] I'll um...I'll t-try n-not to...Thank you.

You don't need to thank me. Which room are you in?

[The pleasant smile on Rick's face says otherwise, but he doesn't argue with him.]

S-Sixteen. [He twists his head in its general direction.] ...I d-don't know if...i-if a-a-anyone else...

[Rick's face falls. He knows Raven is dead--the man died while he was carrying him up the stairs. There was a new name on their door, but Rick hadn't seen him at all. And Ion...the image of the kindhearted child dying alone and miserable in some dark Tower corner puts a knot in Rick's stomach, and the fact that he hasn't run into him lately worries him greatly.]

[Waver sighed, expression annoyed despite what might have passed for a sympathetic tone.]

Worry about yourself for the moment. It won't help anyone if you just drop dead. Can you walk at all?

[Rick flinches slightly at Waver's blunt demands and judgmental expression, but if anything he's more worried about annoying the person helping him than he is about the demands themselves. His eyes drift to the floor and he nods in understanding.]

...I-I think s-so. I j-just...n-need some s-sleep.

[Even if he was a little more blunt than most, Waver was genuinely concerned. The last thing he wanted was for people to die unnecessarily.]

Just do me a favor and try to stay conscious until we get there. Alright?

I'll...I-I'll d-do what I c-can.

[He's focused, at least, and seems to be keeping his footing okay. No promises though.]

If you can't, I'll just have to carry you.

[Was that supposed to be a joke? Waver seemed awfully deadpan when he said it. Either way, he turned and started walking under the assumption that Rick would follow him. If he fell over, Waver would probably regret having made that remark at all.]

[Unfortunately Rick might have to take him up on that offer; within Waver's first few steps, the unsteady blonde lost his balance and came stumbling forward, instinctively reaching out to catch the other fellow's shoulder again. His legs feel numb and heavy and weird, and he has to drag them awkwardly to cover any ground. Walking without assistance is going to be difficult, if not impossible.]

[~~His mun humbly apologizes for rolling low...again.~~]

[Waver stopped at that, glancing over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow.]

I was joking, but if you're that bad it probably wouldn't be that hard to carry you.

[Rick blushes sheepishly, still holding onto Waver's shoulder with a trembling hand.]

...A-Ah...S-Sorry... [The apology shouldn't come as a surprise by this point.] You c-could...t-try?

[Malnourished or not, that's about 170 pounds of pudgy blonde man Waver is offering to pick up right now. He could be stronger than he looks, though.]

[at least he's used to compulsive apologizers.]

[Waver was admittedly stronger than what looked like a scrawny frame would imply, and while he did give it a decent try he was geared more towards speed than strength. So picking anyone up was a little difficult.]

Goddammit...hang on, I've got a better idea. [He took a glass vial of mercury from his coat pocket, pouring it out onto the floor.] Fervor mei sanguis.

[Remember the weird mostly featureless maid, Rick? She's back at that and picking you up bridal style.]

Right then, shall we?

Edited 2013-08-22 18:10 (UTC)

[Yeah, Rick isn't too surprised that didn't work. He makes a mental note to get in shape soon...after a nap, of course. Maybe next week. Definitely within the month. Sure.]

[He's looking very embarrassed about this when Waver reveals his "better idea." Rick remembers the maid, vaguely--right, he was going to ask what it was next time he ran into the man, wasn't he? Now seemed like a much more suitable time for such discussion.]

[Rick curls up awkwardly in the construct's arms, expression a combination of confusion and slight anxiety.]

...Thank you. [Gotta get that out of the way first.] Um...i-if you d-don't m-mind me a-asking...what is...?

It's called Volumen Hydragyrum. Don't worry, it's not going to hurt you. To phrase it simply, it's a weapon made of mercury controlled by incantations, magical energy, and a little willpower.

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bashfulshifter - 2013-08-23 23:22 (UTC) - Expand

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