oh look a nerd with a camera

“I’m relaxed.”

He lies and keeps all of his attention on every slight movement Andrew makes. His body is too stiff on what feels like a cloud cushion. He’s pressing slowly into it while acknowledging his own breathing, it’s causing the majority of his discomfort. He stops any voluntary movement after he fills his lungs with air, holding it for a few moments, and then exhaling through his mouth. Looking beyond Andrew, past his shoulder, he studies a framed painting of a blue owl on the back wall. Perched on a tiny branch with a hole through its left wing, it’s injured and waiting out its days. Maybe someone can still save it. His eyes adjust back to Andrew’s face. He’s focused and committed. Harry smiles, signaling that he’s finally ready.

[ once he’s sensed that harry’s tension has ebbed, andrew closes his eyes and extends his influence forward through the tips of outstretched fingers held between his body and harry’s. through his research he’s obtained a pretty clear idea of where the damage will lie, so he aims directly for harry’s kidneys and the glands atop them, pressing imperceptibly through skin and past organ to reach them. they’re not near the surface, tucked away behind stomach and intestines toward the back of the ribcage, but andrew’s powers know no resistance, no boundaries, and within seconds he’s located both the organs and their overactive glands.

focusing on exploring one at a time, andrew delves into the left adrenal gland, which resides higher up than the other. sure enough, the nerves that feed into it are fractured and withered, destroyed by harry’s illness and unable to halt the overproduction of adrenaline that torments him so. outside and across from harry, andrew’s lips tighten and his brows pinch. in a low voice with an edge of triumph, he murmurs, ]

{ not at all surprised by akira’s confession and  suggestion, julius rolls his eyes with a simper.  he’s seen andrew google pictures of fantasy  swords, and he’s seen the intricate patterns  he puts so much time into while designing  dagger handles on paper, and more than  once he’s gone on rants about historic  relics… and julius has listened every time  of course, asking questions, fantasizing of  a day when he can give him a real sword  on his birthday… but he’s not rich, nor knows  where he could find one. if times had been  different he would’ve given him the dagger  that he used during the civil war, but it’s lost,  and stained, and it was nowhere near as  beautiful as the ones that andrew dream  about… so perhaps it will forever remain  a dream.

the tent is less crowded than the jewelry stand was, but still with a respectable amount of people. most are dressed in attires similar to akira’s so julius holds harder onto him, fearing he’ll lose him in the small crowd. when they stop it’s by a table lined with daggers, all chained down, much to julius’ relief. a man sits behind it working on a piece of leather. julius runs his fingertips over the handles. it feels familiar. }

How did you come across your sword?

[ andrew slips right into the tent, almost forgetting about julius as he’s distracted with trying not to bump into anyone and overwhelmed with what little of the vast amount of weapons he can see through his slitted eye-holes. he manages to squeeze over to the table where the resident artisan works, and watches, intrigued, as he tempers a strip of leather.

at julius’ question, andrew opens his mouth to start rattling off the specifics of how he made his daedric sword replica, how he’d studied the models from the video game and dozens of online tutorials on how to make cosplay props and used his hands along with his powers to craft it, but stops short when he remembers he’s supposed to be acting in character. as he wraps his claws thoughtfully around the hilt at his belt, he slowly pieces together a fictional origin story for it, based in the truth but embellished for a universe with monsters and blacksmiths instead of craft stores and internet. ]

I, uhm... I crafted it from ebony and the heart of a slain monster in a blacksmith’s forge. 

[ he watches the artist work for a moment more, then adds, with a hint of humor in his tone, ]

{ gentle tingling makes julius’ fingers tighten a little in his hair, although it eases as soon as the pendant rests peacefully in the dip between his collar bones. (like a moon crater, he thinks briefly.) upon turning to face him he lets his curls go and instead runs the fingers over the silver chain and the stone. he bows — a common courtesy on the moon, he decides — and hooks his arm back into andrew’s. }

Thank you, Dragonborn. I’m sure we’ll be protected from evil now. Let’s enjoy our day.

{ he pulls on him lightly, fingers curved around his bicep, although on top of the heavy armor. }

Show me something that you enjoy doing in the land you come from…

[ in his armor andrew can’t do much more than give a slight nod in return, but’s pleased nonetheless when julius is satisfied with the gift. he contemplates his question for a moment as they begin to walk again, trying to formulate an in-character reply. ]

I, uh... well, I like to spend time at the blacksmith’s, testing out all the swords and armor and learning how to make them.

With a glance around the side of his bedroom with the couch and round coffee table, he decides to stride towards the armchair nearest to the window. The suede chair sinks under him as he faces Andrew and the rest of the room. Harry painfully swallows his dry throat and his nerves take command, causing a slight but noticeably irritating discomfort in his stomach. He sighs through his nose and he says confidently, “I’m ready.”

Okay.

[ andrew pauses, lips pursed, frozen before his friend on the chair, totally unsure how he wants to do this. this... was definitely easier said than done. there’s not really an elegant way to position or present yourself when you’re about to go rifling around in your friend’s insides, but they’re both going to have to push past the awkwardness if there’s any hope for a cure. finally he decides to just sit across from him to get a clear view of his front, settling on the edge of the couch. though this means they’ll have more eye contact than he’d like to, he reminds himself he’ll be closing his eyes during the procedure anyway. nodding and swallowing, he instructs, ]

{ julius has a rosy and smiling lip between his  teeth as he observes the whole transaction, the  sun gazing through the trees making his already  warm face redden even more, and he’s so happy  to be playing like this with andrew… he’s very  certain io can spare a few doubloons to buy his  knight a meal or two, so he nods in agreement,  eyes on the silver necklace in akira’s gloved  palm. he pouts at that though, shifting on his  feet, fingers tangling around the chiffon fabric  of his attire. my, he feels a bit bad, but perhaps  io will be excused for being spoiled… he turns  around and runs his fingers through the hair at  the back of his head, holding his curls up for him  and exposing the back of his neck. }

I’m sure the Dragonborn has some other kind of power he can use to do it…

[ within his helmet andrew smirks and scoffs as julius turns around and presents his slender neck to him. with his costume on he can’t exactly do a very good check of who’s watching, but he figures even if someone did glimpse an action as tiny as this they’d write it off as a trick of the light. so, with a conceding roll of his eyes, andrew lifts the necklace off his glove with his powers and slips it around his friend’s prince’s nape in a single smooth motion, settling the pendant in the dip of his collarbones. in both jest and fondness, he murmurs, ]

For protection.

{ julius smiles, the glued-on little silver stars under his eyes shifting when he does so. the straightening of andrew’s back is quite comical, almost like this famous “dragonborn" had forgot his duty of protecting this fragile and damselesque prince that is standing beside him. ( although, he doesn’t like the thought of io being weak. one day he’ll come up with a backstory that’ll make him a great fighter. one day, maybe, when andrew has the time to join him. ) io blesses the stone with lunar magic by pressing a light kiss to it before placing it in akira’s palm, cheeks slightly rosy and his gaze bashful as he looks around at the other pieces of jewelry. nothing seems to be in the style of the dragonborn’s armor. he does, however, gently pull a thin silver chain off of a small display shelf, as they will need something to hang the pendant in. he places that in akira’s hand, too. }

Perhaps you’ll let me buy you a meal later as thanks for looking out for me.

[ with a grin andrew takes the pendant and chain in one clawed hand and with the other digs through the pouch at his hip where he’s stored all his non-medieval belongings until he withdraws some cash. as he bows his head to the storekeeper and makes his transaction, he says aside to julius, ]

I’m pretty sure they have fried twinkies, so, yeah.

[ turning back to him once he’s tucked his change away, he offers the gift to his prince with a sheepish mumble of, ]

{ leading his friend to the nearest booth that  isn’t totally cramped by people in earthy woolen  clothing, excitement fills him to the brim when  he sees handiwork in silver and brass, both  hanging on display but also lying close together  for others to inspect and touch. there’s jewelry  and glass bottles filled with liquid in different  colors, probably made to be imagined as  magic potions. the bottles in themselves  are beautiful, but so are the necklaces, and  julius grows particularly interested in a silver  pendant… he rolls it gently in his hand as he  turns to andrew standing beside him, wondering  what expression it is that he’s wearing underneath  the helmet. he can’t quite make out what his tone  means. }

No?

{ the thought is a bit strange as he had two close friends, and maybe more that he just hasn’t mentioned to him yet. although, if they didn’t find this particular thing fun they wouldn’t have gone, just like julius never would go to a wrestling match. but maybe they could have sacrificed a day just for the company. but it’s too late now. he chooses not to mention what could have been. instead, he smiles at him, because he’s here now, with him, and they’re going to have the best day ever. ( julius decided that the moment he opened his eyes this morning. ) he holds up the pendant to him: a cage made of silver, just barely the size of a fingernail, trapping a pearlescent stone. }

Tell me, Dragonborn, do you sense any virtuous magic in this? Do you think it’ll protect us during this day that we’re going to spend together?

[ andrew shakes his head, forgetting the movement can barely be seen under his helmet, and stares at the various items in quiet melancholy until julius captures his attention once more by dangling a tiny wrapped stone in front of his eye-slits. a smile cracks his lips. ]

I think so.

[ he loves how julius throws himself to easily in and out of character -- it’s harder for him to break past the barrier of self-consciousness and fully embrace his fantasy persona in the real world. but even if he’s not the best actor, he can still uphold his character’s duty. straightening up, he offers, ]

{ julius is a grinning mess of a prince — who  he conveniently decided to name io last night  while looking at the moon while eating the last  meal of his day — but the royal manners he  probably should lay bare if he wants to stay  in character aren’t something he keeps in  mind. no, he’s too enchanted, too in love  with the atmosphere of harps and flutes to  pretend to be unmoved by all of it. nodding  frantically, he steps towards the cluster of  people, all dressed in earthy colors and  homemade sword belts. ( he, himself,  stands out quite a lot because of the  palette, but he’s delighted to see a woman  or two that also went as what seems like  elven queens. ) making sure that andrew  is following him, he heads for the nearest  stand, unknowing yet of what it is. }

Where do you go first   in places like these?

[ andrew follows his enthused companion up to a booth selling a wide array of jewelry, from wrapped crystals to silver rings to pendants shaped like dragon’s claws. through the narrow slits in his mask andrew squints at it all, immediately overwhelmed by all there is to see at just this first booth. he gives a shrug within his armor to julius’ question. ]

I dunno -- I’ve, uh... actually never been.

[ his tone’s a bit sheepish, but it’s not like he had many opportunities to, considering his sick mother and lack of personal transportation before he learned to fly. ]

Super boring and outdated to you. He sort of had a point but it was so old it was kind of interesting. No holograms anywhere, no glass that anything could really be projected on.

“Kind of cool it’s old though.”

The words were mumbled as Valerian looked around, scanning each room, making note of little things here and there. Television, when was the last time he’d just really sat down and watched it? Background noise sometimes, programs on Alpha, those shitty soaps that seemed to never change regardless of technology. White noise was the usual for him or waves if he was lounging around in the simulation chamber. Spare time was spent either sparring or working out or training in general. Relaxing and down time weren’t something he was used to, that was going to take some adjusting.

Harry, owned the place. Looking down at where Andrew had motioned, he almost wanted to ask for some kind of introduction because logic dictated he figure out as much as he could about this place. But in a weird way, he kind of trusted this kid to just tell him what was up, took his word for it.

“So Harry owns the place and you’re like the usual designated tour guy? He paying you or are you just used to this by now?”

The question was posed with an almost wry smile. Tour guide kid with the camera. Noted.

[ valerian’s right -- there is a certain charm to old technology that’s undeniable even to the modern guys. the fact that they’ve wholeheartedly embraced their old record player and supplemented it with a collection of albums is proof of that. he hopes valerian will find something to keep himself entertained in the absence of... holograms and simulators and spaceships. to the next question, andrew gives a small huff of laughter and shakes his head. ]

{ julius recalls a time in which he dressed up  in his grandfather’s inherited cloaks and hats,  pretending to be a good-hearted thief with a  homemade bow and a money-bag his mother  made him embroidered with red thread and  tied together with a thin leather string. he  remembers hiding behind trees and boulders,  listening closely for footsteps or rustling leaves.  licking fingers to see what way the wind blew.  reading letters from pretend-lovers wishing  him well on his journeys. a golden time, a  golden time…

… and now julius feels nostalgic, although they just came. his costume has been slightly altered because of the chillier weather. ( for example, he’s not barefoot, but is rather wearing tights that fade from pale pink to blue, and on his feet are shoes made out of white lace — originally for women but thanks to julius’ size they still fit. ) looking around, he breathes in the fresh air of the forest, but also the lovely smell of food and sweets; listens to the sound of a harp someone plays nearby and to laughter and loud conversations… julius might burst out of his skin. he might even be bouncing in place, turning to andrew. }

This is fantastic, Andy.

[ julius can’t see the bright beam that splits his face beneath his helmet, but rest assured it appears as soon as he sees julius practically vibrating with excitement. immediately he’s reassured that getting these faire tickets for them as julius’ last christmas present was something he won’t regret. ]

Let’s go check it out.

So there was a decent amount of them, that was kind of comforting. In a weird way. Valerian was used to people being around base, bodies moving in and out of rooms quickly, even if they weren’t engaging, there was always someone around. And even when it was just him and Laureline, that was enough. Even being out on his own, he always had his comm on him, always had a way to get in touch with somebody. If he was going to be stuck here, he was glad it was going to be stuck here with other people around and not on his own. 

Tour. That wasn’t a bad idea at all but he could kind of look through everything later. But right now he had this kid Andrew and he should probably at least get to know him a little bit more, right? They could probably kill two birds with one stone.  He stepped away from the wall and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Yeah, tour sounds good.”

Alright, follow me.

[ moving his formerly fidgeting hand to his pocket, he leads valerian down the hallway and into a spacious room of couches and tables separated by large double-doors. ]

This is the living room... You can come here whenever, we’ve got a TV, a record player... y’know, a bunch of technology that’s probably super boring and outdated for you.

[ there’s a hint of ironic humor in his voice as he says it. he leans back into the hallway and jerks his head toward another door further along. ]

{ julius traces the flower petals on his sheets  with the tip of his finger, cheek against his  shoulder, wondering if things go too fast  between them when julius gets ahead of  himself. of course he fears that andrew  stands and leaves him, and believes that  he will do so as well, but then andrew  surprises him and turns. julius watches  when fingers hook into his shirt and pull,  skin he hasn’t seen before revealing itself.  it stretches over ribs and the ridge of his  spine, cracked apart and slightly crooked  from failed healing. this scar looks slightly  different. while the one on his stomach was  bumpier from flesh getting pushed away  from his body, this one looks more like a  dip — like a spoon has scraped at the  skin…

julius’ fingers leave the flower petals and instead place themselves in the graveling of the wound. he feels the bumps and the pain, index- and middle finger following the length of the scar while the rest instead feels the reddened skin surrounding it, and, finally, he lets his thumb run over it. ( the diameter of the scar is about as wide as julius’ palm. )

he withdraws his fingers, although the arm belonging to them just slides around him and holds on, mouth pressing against the skin. his forehead rests between his shoulder blades. }

I’m so happy you’re alive.

[ when he feels the first ginger brush of contact andrew jolts, his heart jumping up behind his adam’s apple and making it impossible to breathe or swallow. he thought that turning around would allow him to maintain some sense of control over the situation, but now that julius is touching him he feels immensely vulnerable. the fingers tracing his scar don’t hurt him, per say, but he still feels a phantom something, some strange tug deep inside him each time they meet it, like julius is touching his soul along with his body. goosebumps raise along his spine as julius’ warm breath travels over it and his ribs flex and tense with a sharp inhale when he feels his lips grace his skin. all the blood pounding in his throat has rendered his face bright red, not that julius can see it while he’s turned away with his chin tucked nervously to his collarbones; he doesn’t know how to react his words other than to force himself to breathe into the arm clinging to him and try his very best not to let the tears burning the corners of his eyes spill over. finally he manages to shudder out: ]

You too.

[ because he is, he really is -- despite everything that’s happened between them, he’s always been, and always will be, happy that the war-torn boy who’d left his life in andrew’s hands had become a part of his. ]

Alright, alright he could handle this, no big deal. He’d dealt with worse, right? 

“Bedroom, check. Anything else I should know? How many more are there here?" 

Despite the rather strange situation, Valerian felt the worst was over, the initial panic. Now he just had to figure out where to go from here, what he could do, who else was around. Who and what, the layout of the place in general. He knew he wouldn’t actually be able to sleep until he had everything down, could navigate the place or at least knew where everything and everyone was. If he had a bedroom, everyone had to have their own space. He didn’t need to invade it (not yet, he’d save that for another time), just needed to know everything.

But then there was Andrew and Valerian should probably turn his attention to the one person he had met. Maybe some of those other questions could wait. Andrew wasn’t a threat, at least he hadn’t proven himself to be as of yet, kid seemed pretty damn helpful. 

"Where’s your room?”

His tone was casual, curious. Last thing he needed to be was authoritative at this point. Just treat everyone like civilians. But he still hadn’t budged from the door frame, not by much, though his stance was certainly a lot more lax than it had been at the start of the whole conversation.

Um... a lot. Something like 9 or 10 guys, I think.

[ it’s kinda hard to keep track when people can just leave on a whim like the first valerian just did. andrew glances over his shoulder toward his room down the hallway. ]

Mine’s the door with the paper plane taped to it.

[ he turns back to valerian and fiddles with his camera strap while he talks, only looking up at the end of his speech. ]

Harry lingers a moment longer, gently pressing into Andrew’s firm shoulder. He smiles with his tongue pressing against his teeth, nearly biting it from increasing amounts of joy. His hand dips back down to his waist and slides into the cold pocket of his jeans. “It is, and causing more nerve damage. I haven’t gone for an  X-Ray or done too many tests since I got here, but uh- before, doctors said it’s starting with my adrenals.  Nerves aren’t being stimulated, adrenal glands won’t  function how they’re supposed to. It’s a mess, Andrew.”

[ andrew nods along with harry’s explanation, more excitement creeping into his voice as he responds with his plan. ]

Well, I think I can fix the nerves. That should slow down the symptoms while we look for a long-term solution.

[ his tongue passes over his lips in a subconscious display of anticipation before he subdues himself and admits: ]

But first, I... actually need to get in there and check everything out.

[ he looks over at the various couches and chairs in the room, assuming harry will want to sit down for this, and mutters, ]

[ buzzing with happiness, jason returns andrew’s grin, though his remains hidden while his own does not. it does not bother him ( he wants andrew to know and feel how dear he is to him ), but the condensed glass is nevertheless  brought against his cheek to cool its rosiness. his eyes follow the bob of his friend’s head, and when asked what or whom his costume is, the cubed ice stirs from his smile settling into a gentler one. ]

Nancy Sinatra.  …Her song was in Kill Bill.

Oh! 

[ it hadn’t occurred to him that jason might have dressed up as a girl -- and now his face has flushed pink beneath his helmet. ]

Oh, um, that’s cool.

[ his invisible grin creeps back onto his lips, and with a hint of sheepish laughter in his voice he admits: ]