Top Posts Tagged with #gramal

Gramal and Ophion - Food Poisoning

[11/20/2013 12:27:01 AM] Zeda: Although most trolls would have required more than one trip back-and-forth if they intended to move all of their belongings to a new hive, Gramal only needed to make that second trip back into the city so that he could return his electronic key to his previous landlord. His belongings were sparse, and had Ophion been awake and terribly interested in seeing what his new employee was quietly un-capchaloguing and arranging within his guest block, he might have recognized that a fair enough portion of what he owned didn't even appear to be his. Within only a matter of days the jadeblood had quietly settled himself into a corner of Ophion's life in his new hive, and in no time they began the process of adjusting to one-another's schedules. Or really, Gramal began the process of adjusting to Ophion's, since the seadweller spent so much time asleep. He quickly found that he needed to be very conscious of when the seadweller would be awake and in need of actual attendance, so that he'd be able to sneak in a quick nap or a regular day's sleep here-or-there. It took a little over a week for him to adjust, but all in all Gramal was a highly adaptable troll and he managed just fine.

They had been living together for about two weeks now, and the hive had been restored to dust-free order. Gramal wasn't much of a clean freak by any stretch, but he certainly seemed ready to take his duties to Ophion very seriously, and as long as that included maintaining the seadweller's hive then he performed the task diligently. At the moment Ophion was curled-up on the couch, bundled into a freshly washed blanket and slumbering silently as Gramal made some food for himself in the nutriblock, his eyes focused on the grubjelly as he smeared it over his toast. The fact that his employer slept so very, very much of the night and day away was beginning to worry him, especially now that he was starting to think that Ophion really wasn't sick at all, but he had no idea how to approach the subject or if he had any right to object in the first place.

Ophion's back was to Gramal now, one pale sliver of shoulder peaking out from under the blanket he was half-curled under. Nothing seemed at all out of the ordinary until he made a sound. It was a soft noise, quiet enough that the jadeblood might've imagined it, until the seadweller did it again. He curled in on himself a little more, whimpering faintly. It was apparent that something was wrong; he was normally such a quiet sleeper, as far as Gramal had experienced.

[11/20/2013 1:10:01 AM] Zeda: At first, Gramal could have sworn that he was hearing the distant, distressed squeak of a grub like he had heard so often before in the caverns, but as he lifted his head to listen he honestly didn't think that it could have been anything more than a misunderstanding on his part. Obviously something must have shifted slightly under the gentle pressure of the air conditioning, maybe, some innocuous thing like that... but as he stood there in silence he heard that sound again, and this time he turned his head towards the couch with dawning clarity. Ophion? Was it actually Ophion making that noise? Gramal abandoned his meal at the nutriblock counter and made his way towards the livingblock cautiously, trying to step as lightly as possible so as not to disturb the seadweller's rest if he was actually only hearing things just then...

As he neared the couch, it became clear that he had misheard nothing. Ophion's small body was winding ever tighter into his blankets, and from this angle he thought that he could see the younger troll's brow knitted in distress before he turned his face towards his pillow.

[11/20/2013 1:23:24 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion was, quite plainly, in the throes of a nightmare. It was almost surprising that it hadn't happened sooner, considering the way he scorned the use of his recuperacoon. Gramal didn't know, of course, but Ophion did have nightmares quite a bit, ever since circumstances had freed him from his kismesis with Jeriko. It wasn't exactly easy to move on from something like that, no matter the blank facade the seadweller put on for other trolls to see. Not that many other trolls saw him at all. He'd gotten away from Jeriko in real life, but it was a lot more difficult to do that when his subconcious frequently dredged up unpleasant experiences from their time together, or else dreamed up new ways for Ophion to try and escape, but never be quite able to make it. It was one of the reasons he slept constantly, but always seemed to need more rest.

He whimpered again, unaware of Gramal's presence hovering over him. The seadweller's fists were clenched tightly in his blankets, his body's unconcious attempt to fend off whatever was tormenting him. He looked scared; that brief glimpse of his face more revealing than any waking expression he had made in the jadeblood's presence.

[11/20/2013 1:48:22 AM] Zeda: Gramal hadn't been certain what he should do when he first approached the sleeping seadweller, but as he made his way around the armrest and into the space between the foot of the couch and the cocktail table he finally saw enough of Ophion's face to understand how bad it was. Ophion's eyes were screwed tightly shut, his knuckles gone pale from how tightly he was gripping the blanket in his clenched fists as he burrowed in against them, thin lips pulled tightly against his teeth as he grimaced in his sleep. The worst of it was that, with the set of his furrowed brow, it was clear that he wasn't angry but absolutely PAINED by whatever he was dreaming, trembling as he gave only those occasional, soft whimpers. Watching him, it was as though a vice had suddenly snapped shut on his blood pusher.

"Hey-" Gramal knelt down in front of the couch and reached for Ophion's shoulder, and for a moment his hand hung in the air near the seaweller's quaking shoulder as he tried desperately to decide if he should actually TOUCH him now. Would that help? Or, no, would that only make it worse? He didn't know for sure, but ge went ahead and grabbed him as gently as he could manage while still being firm, pursing his lips tightly as he leaned forward just a little. "Ophion- Wake up!"

[11/20/2013 1:59:48 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: It only took a few shakes before the seadweller opened his eye. He flinched away from Gramal's hand for a moment, rather predictably, and slowly covered his head in his hands, curling up into a trembling ball as if in an attempt to make himself a smaller target. A few moments passed in tense silence broken only by his ragged breathing, but when no blow was forthcoming he finally seemed to realize he was awake. Or, at least that he was safe. Slowly, Ophion uncurled, and looked up at Gramal in askance, a tear glistening in his good eye for a moment before he pricked it with a blink and it traced down his cheek.

"I...I'm..." he stammered, voice hoarser from stress as he fumbled with what to say. Ophion pushed himself up into a kneeling position, looking almost a little nauseous, shivering as the blankets fell away. It sounded for a moment like he was on the verge of appologizing, but finally he managed to whisper a somewhat more appropriate, "Thanks..."

[11/20/2013 2:48:27 AM | Edited 2:48:54 AM] Zeda: Touching was, Gramal knew, strictly off limits with his employer. Ever since that first night, when Ophion had nearly pitched down the stairs and ended-up stiff with discomfort in the crook of his arm, Gramal had done his best not to have any physical contact with him if he could possibly help it. Something had happened to his employer to make him this way, and while he could suspect all he wanted that the brand burned into his back had something to do with it, the jadeblood thought that he might never really know what happened. But as soon as he saw that tear slipping down the seadweller's cheek as he stammered and quaked, Gramal's hands shook with the force of just how hard he had to fight himself not to immediately embrace him. It was one of those things that the others had always referred to under the blanket of 'jadeblooded instinct,' an innate compulsion that all members of their caste had been hatched with... something rooted deep down in the gut, something visceral that made them want to care for the small and the helpless. That made GRAMAL want to care for the small and the helpless, and especially for Ophion in what he felt must be a moment of need.

But- he couldn't. Touching was strictly off-limits. So, with his expression darkening into a rather intense frown, Gramal reached down and closed his fingers in the material of Ophion's blanket instead, rising to his feet so that he could lift it up and drape it around the seadweller's shoulders. All with the utmost care, and still with a nervous tinge to his expression as he wondered just how far out-of-bounds he was stepping.

"...M'sorry." Probably a weird response, given especially that Ophion seemed about to apologize HIMSELF just a second ago, but Gramal couldn't think of anything else to say.

[11/20/2013 3:03:36 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion didn't flinch this time when Gramal dipped forward to reposition the blanket, but for a bare moment the jadeblood was hovering just close enough to feel the tremors going through the seadweller's delicate frame. He clutched the blanket around himself when Gramal lifted it to cover his shoulders, and it at least didn't seem like he had minded that. Maybe it was because Gramal had done it so carefully.

The seadweller rubbed the tear off his cheek with the back of a hand, finally managing to compose himself before he said, "I haven't...had any nightmares for a while. Um..."

He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but after the silence stretched on between them it seemed like he'd decided against it. Talking about it might help with the nightmares, but Ophion was only ever used to talking to Novall, and sometimes Anceri. It didn't feel like he knew Gramal well enough yet, and the wounds were still a little too fresh to give voice to.

[11/20/2013 3:54:21 AM] Zeda: Gramal didn't expect the silence that passed between them to be broken by any sort of explanation of what had happened in his dream, but that hadn't stopped him from silently hoping for one. There was the possibility that maybe if he could just find out what was plaguing Ophion's thoughts, he could begin to understand how to work with him. Maybe not as his counsellor, because that was an uncomfortably pale possibility to consider, but... maybe just as good employee. Maybe even as a concerned hivemate.

"F'you ever wanna' talk about it I'll listen. 'M not your pale but..." How could he even begin to distill exactly WHY he was willing to listen? They'd only known one-another for a little more than two weeks, after all, and telling him that he felt so much compassion for him because he seemed small, cute and helpless was nothing but insulting. The jadeblood's frown tightened slowly, intensifying as he narrowed his eyes at nothing. "...Well. I'll listen."

[11/20/2013 4:28:50 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: "Well I don't...have a pale anymore so...it's not like that would matter..." Ophion mumbled, then swallowed thickly, wondering why he'd said that. The conversation with that hacker maybe, had set him off so much. He shouldn't have to justify anything. And he didn't want to talk about it. The seadweller changed the way he was sitting, leaning against the back of the couch and crossing his legs under the blanket, pursing his thin lips as he looked down toward his now very clean coffee table.

"You're not as scary as you look..." he muttered a moment later, an almost wry expression flitting across his features for the barest of seconds as he glanced up at Gramal. "I'm not...good...at talking..."

[11/20/2013 5:12:18 AM] Zeda: Not as scary as he looked? Gramal didn't quite smile, but he certainly frowned a lot less at that, shrugging mildly as he glanced back towards the nutriblock for a moment. His jellied toast was halfway prepared already, but maybe he could bring that over and give it to Ophion now that he was awake? That and maybe some cocoa, warm things that would help to distract anyone from the cold clamminess of a nightmare.

"Me neither. But'm sure y'noticed." The jadeblood made his way out of the narrow floorspace in front of Ophion and started walking towards the nutriblock well before he thought to actually say out-loud what he was intending to do. What a bad impression that would be, responding so shortly and then walking away! He backpedaled a few feet so that he was back within Ophion's immediate line of sight again, thumbing his hand in the vague direction of the nutriblock in an attempt to further underscore the point of what he was up to here. "-M'gonna' give you some grubjelly toast n' maybe make you some cocoa'f you want?"

[11/20/2013 5:24:07 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: They had cocoa? Ophion didn't recall every buying any. Gramal must have done the last time the jadeblood when to get groceries. The seadweller wet his lips slightly, trying to recall the last time he'd had cocoa. It had been perigees at least, possibly a sweep. It sounded really good, too. He wondered what had prompted the other troll to purchase it, but maybe cocoa was a customary staple in other troll's nutriblocks?

"Cocoa sounds...good," he said after moment, realizing that he needed to give voice to at least one of the thoughts spinning around through his head. Cocoa might keep him awake and away from those nightmares too. He hunched forward a little, watching Gramal as the other troll did his work. Ophion hadn't eaten as well as he had these past two weeks with the jadeblood since...well, since before.

[11/20/2013 5:44:20 AM] Zeda: Cocoa had, actually, been a staple in Gramal's pantry for quite a number of sweeps now. He wasn't much of a fan himself, though he would find himself craving a cup every now and again, but it was just... it was something that had always been able to soothe her bad moods, and he had grown used to thinking of it as a comfort drink of unparalleled effectiveness. It had been ages since he memorized the craft of a good, creamy, chocolatey cup of the stuff, and in what felt like no time at all he was returning to the couch with a steaming mug and a plate of jellied toast for Ophion, which he set down on the low table in front of him. His eyes lingered, briefly, in the stretch of couch beside the seadweller... but then he clearly determined that taking a seat at such close poximity would be unwelcome, and he moved off towards one of the chairs set-up accross from his employer instead, settling himself down and lifting his eyes to regard the seadweller draped in his warm, heavy blanket.

"...Why can't'ch sleep in a recouperacoon?" He said it as gently as he could, brows knitted intensely as he leaned forward and propped his elbows up on his knees, lacing his fingers loosely together and looking supremely concerned that he might be asking something offensive. "I noticed y'r neck was scarred but. I didn't know if that was why."

[11/20/2013 5:56:09 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion picked up the mug of cocoa when Gramal set it down, holding it gingerly as he blew on the steaming liquid to try and cool it a little. It smelled REALLY good, and after a moment he couldn't resist taking a sip, almost slurping a little in an attempt to keep from burning his tongue too badly. He could feel the heat from it travel all the way down his throat and through his chest, and he let out a soft hum before he'd realized it. He set the mug down and was halfway to reaching for his toast when Gramal asked the question. Ophion's hand faltered, and he retracted it, instead using it to tug self-conciously at the high collar of his wetsuit.

He looked down and to the side, then cleared his throat and murmured, "Um...my gills. They're too damaged to...seal out the sopor slime, and it's too thick to breathe. I uh...feel like I'm drowning..."

It hurt, too, but that was almost an aside. Some part of him always seemed to hurt right now, but he was used to the casual throb in the left side of his neck. It was when he actively tried to breathe any liquid that it became painful enough to avoid whenever possible. The water he could sort of handle in small doses, as it wasn't too thick to pass, but the slime...he picked up his cocoa and took another sip.

[11/20/2013 6:23:43 AM] Zeda: The seadweller's answer brought a tense frown to Gramal's lips, and he immediately regretted asking something so personal of the seadweller. He could have guessed it, or at least guessed something similar if given enough time to puzzle it out, but to hear that the sensation was not unlike drowning for him was really, deeply unpleasant. His dark jade eyes drifted down towards his own losely interlocked fingers, and as he brushed one thumb slowly over the nail of the other he thought that over quietly. "N'you can't prop yoursef up against anything t'sleep..." He would have ttried it by now if it was a possibility, Gramal was sure. They didn't really make head cushions big or sturdy enough for that, he didn't think, and there was always the risk that he would slip beneath the surface of the sopor as he slept and wake himself up drowning if he couldn't be held in the right position by some kind of support. So, lying on the couch and dealing with the nightmares it was, then. What an awful situation to be in...

"...At least y'said th'nightmares don't happen too often. M'glad I was here t'wake you."

[11/20/2013 6:31:40 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: That hadn't exactly been what Ophion had said, but he didn't know how to correct the other troll, so he just picked up the toast and took a few nibbles from it while he collected himself again. The nightmares did happen quite often, or they had before the jadeblood had moved in. That two week stretch of mostly dreamless sleep had been such a relief, Ophion had been hoping that was it but, well, his subconicious couldn't resist tormenting him with the things he was still too scared to face in the waking world. He suspected that unpleasant conversation with the hacker had possibly exacerbated the issue. Already he was regretting confronting whoever it was. If he had just kept his thoughts to himself like always they probably would have eventually moved on.

"I'm...glad too," he finally said awkwardly, brushing a few crumbs from his mouth as he set the piece of toast back down into the plate and retrieved the cocoa. "I...I like...the cocoa," he said. "It's good."

[11/20/2013 6:55:53 AM] Zeda: Although simply saying that he liked the cocoa wasn't the most planet-shattering compliment ever recoded, Gramal felt as though the compliment was far richer when it accompanied the simple statement that, yes, Ophion was glad as well that he was there to wake him. He was just his employer, and above and beyond that he was a seadweller who would be expected to look down his nose at all midbloods, even mid-blooded rarities such as jadebloods, but despite this being what should by all means be a relationship built on forced civility, Gramal found that he liked him. He was small and quiet, and that someone so richly-blooded could be so soft-spoken and so easily overlooked was... fascinating to him. Fascinating and very cute, in a way that he would never say out-loud.

And he liked the cocoa. Maybe he should say something to indicate his acceptance of those gracious words, huh? Gramal's lips twisted slightly, showing off just how unsure he was of the protocol in accepting a compliment from someone like Ophion, and after a moment he seemed to settle on simply nodding, and this time maybe even smiling just a very, very little. It looked strange with his scarred mouth, split through to teeth and uncomfortably sinister when all he wanted to emote was kindness. The smile slipped away pretty quickly.

"Any time y'want cocoa I c'n make some for you. I've got'a special way I make it so it comes out extra creamy. Good f'r th' throat'f you're feelin' sick."

[11/20/2013 5:29:03 PM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: The fact that the jadeblood had a 'special way' to make the cocoa 'extra creamy' was almost sort of cute on its own. 'Extra creamy' wasn't really a phrase one would generally expect to come out of a mouth like that, after all. And, well, Ophion HAD said Gramal wasn't as scary as he looked, which was true, but to be honest there was nothing about the way his cheek split that had ever really put the seadweller off. Maybe he had just been living with his own scars long enough that other people's seemed...well, not minor by comparison, but less...noticeable, maybe. It didn't make him any less curious about how Gramal had come by it, but Ophion wasn't about to ask when he himself wasn't comfortable talking about his own wounds yet.

He took a few more bites of the toast, then nodded slowly and said, "Sounds good..."

He felt sort of icky now. Maybe a little sweaty from the nightmare. Sweat wasn't something he was unfamiliar with, at least not in the capacity that dust was. But that didn't make sweating under a wetsuit any less uncomfortable. He finished off the toast, and gulped down the rest of the cocoa, then stood up slowly and said, "I'm...going to go shower..."

[11/20/2013 5:50:23 PM] Zeda: As Ophion sipped at his cocoa and took intermittent bites of his jellies toast, his thin lips working slowly around each small bite, Gramal could only sit there and hope that it wasn't too creepy that he was watching him. There were other words to describe what he felt, but over all simply 'fascinated' was the best one that he could find, because no matter how mundane the task Ophion seemed to go about it at such a quiet, plodding pace that he was just. Kind of captivating, honestly.

When his employer finally stood to leave Gramal made a concentrated effort to look away, focusing on the task of collecting Ophion's now empty plate and cup before rising to his feet as well. He was used to dwarfing others in size, or at the very least being of a height and bulk more typical of ceruleans than mere midbloods such as himself, but it was still just a bit amazing to him that he could stand so much taller than someone of Ophion's calibre. Would he grow taller as he continued to age...? Gramal assumed as much - after all, he pegged Ophion at somewhere between 7 and 8 sweeps, and his schoolfeeding mentioned that seadwellers could continue to grow sometimes as late as their teens before reaching their plateau. Ophion would probably get bigger and stronger, and the process would probably go more smoothely now that he was eating regularly.

"I'll set out some fresh clothes f'r you then. If'y need anything else y'can call on me okay?"

[11/20/2013 6:20:54 PM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion paused at the foot of the stairs, and then nodded. "Okay."

The next few nights passed uneventfully enough, though Ophion was initially a bit more wary of letting himself nod off, eventually it became a siren's song he couldn't avoid. Thankfully no more nightmares came to plague him, at least not yet, so the next handful of days were a little more restful. He was in the shower when Gramal went to buy groceries, and came out of it shivering.

The seadweller picked his way down the steps, clutching his towel around himself as he went into the laundry room and opened up the still-spinning load of towels and blankets in the dryer, intent on finding another, somewhat warmer towel. He pulled a few things out of the dryer as he went through them. Most of the stuff was finished, though a few of the larger blankets were a touch damp in the folds, so he shoved them out of the way as he dug. Ophion pulled out a warm, dry towel and started to scrub the water out of his hair with it when he noticed the sweater. It wasn't his, and though he didn't pay much attention to what Gramal wore, he could only assume it was the jadeblood's just based on the garment's size. It looked really warm and soft, though, and he couldn't resist pulling it on once he'd dried off. The warm fabric pulled a soft purr out of him as he got settled inside the sweater, the sound surprising himself just as much as it would have surprised anyone else had he had an audience. It fit him more like a dress than anything else, the hem coming down to mid-thigh on his small frame, the sleeves hanging over his hands. But it was very comfortable. He wasn't used to the feeling of plain fabric on his bare skin without the barrier of neoprene, but maybe he should have tried wearing clothes this way sooner? There was something to be said about fabric that breathed...

He paused to shove all of the things back into the dryer that he'd pulled out, and pushed the button to resume the cycle. Gramal hadn't been gone TOO long, maybe he could put the sweater back one he warmed up, before the jadeblood got home. It seemed like an acceptable plan, so Ophion pulled up the hood and wandered over to the couch to sit down. And then, quite predictably, fell asleep.

[11/20/2013 7:00:53 PM] Zeda: It was only by virtue of the fact that he had recently emptied his sylladex that Gramal was able to enter Ophion's... or, he supposed, THEIR hive with both hands free. When he mentioned that they were running low on milk and eggs and that another trip to the store might be in order, it had been impossible to miss the brief flicker of surprise that crossed the seadweller's face, and although he could have credited his shock to the fact that he was disused to going through food at a pace appropriate for two trolls, the fact of the matter was that Gramal thought Ophion might be disused to going through food at ANY pace. In any case, just to be safe he had decided to stock up on as much as he possibly could so as to save them successive trips into town, and while Ophion had granted him access to an account with more money than he could possibly fathom Gramal had still bought cheap, and in bulk.

Now, there were only so many places where Ophion would be at any given time, and the foremost among Gramal's guesses was, of course, the couch. He had no intention of disturbing his employer, just turning his head as he passed by the livingblock on his way to the nutriblock, but he paused when he noticed the odd shape and colour of the little lump on the couch. None of his blankets were that shade of faded, raggedy black, were they...? Gramal frowned to himself, took a few sidesteps towards the couch in order to give him a peek, and-

He immediately jumped his eyes away from Ophion's thin, bare legs, and as soon as he was focused on a somewhat more respectful area of his body Gramal quickly realized that his boss was sleeping in one of his sweaters. With the dark, worn hood clouded around his face and even his fingertips concealed by the heavy, loose wrists of his sleeves, he looked even smaller than was typical. Small and... just for a moment, Gramal thought of someone else and went perfectly still, watching the even breaths slip past Ophion's slightly parted lips as he slept. He stood there like that for a long, long moment, unsure of what to do or how to feel, whether or not he should SAY anything or if he should just go to the kitchen and wait for Ophion to wake up on his own. But... his eyes strayed without him meaning to, and he told himself that it was for the sake of confirming that those WERE little goosebumps rising beneath Ophion's soft grey skin. Best to wake him up.

"Ophion...?"

[11/20/2013 7:16:49 PM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: There were scars on Ophion's ankles too, fainter than some others on the seadweller's body, but noticeable now that his bare legs were the brief yet primary focus of Gramal's gaze. They looked like the kind of scars someone might get from being restrained too tightly, or for too long, and when the seadweller shifted at the sound of the jadeblood's voice, Gramal got a momentary glimpse of a practical latticework of scarring on soles of the seadweller's feet, as if he'd walked over something that had torn him up.

Ophion sat up slowly, the hood falling down from his mussed hair as he shook a hand free from on of the sweater's over-sized sleeves to rub his eye. He looked up at Gramal, then glanced down at himself as he seemed to remember what he was wearing.

"Oh..." the seadweller mumbled. "Sorry. I was cold...I was going to put it back, but..." But, he'd fallen asleep. He slept almost all days and night, but he'd still be unable to keep himself awake long enough to put back the sweater he'd stolen. He peaked up at Gramal through his fringe. Was the jadeblood upset that he'd taken it without asking?

[11/20/2013 7:47:43 PM] Zeda: The scars on Ophion's ankles and feet didn't escape his notice, and although he thought that Ophion may have caught his expression of displeasure when he lifted his head and peered out from beneath his dark, impossibly messy hair. He must have showered and only toweled it dry before falling asleep here again, because despite clinging to itself and sticking out on odd sides it still managed to look incredibly soft and clean. As he watched Ophion's thin fingers slip through his hair, Gramal thought that... wait, Ophion said something to him a moment ago, didn't he? The jadeblood blinked, hoisted himself back into the reality of the moment at-hand, and focused his dark eyes on Ophion's single, richly magenta one. He was going to put it back, he said, but the look he was giving him seemed so sheepish. Almost shy.

"You c'n keep on wearing it if'y want. Especially if you're still cold." And he absolutely could, but... Gramal pursed his lips slightly and tried not to glance down at his boss' bare legs again, ultimately failing to resist a quick dart down and then up to the seadweller's face again. "-But y'probably want some pants right? Jus' a sweater an' underwear isn' enough't keep y'warm."

[11/20/2013 7:57:32 PM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: "Underwear...?" Ophion repeated slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure what Gramal was talking about. He didn't own any underwear, why would the jadeblood think he was wearing any now? Surely Gramal recalled never having washed any undergarments of Ophion's other than the occasional wetsuit. He slid his legs off the edge of the couch before folding his hands a little self-conciously in his lap, knees pressed tightly together. He WAS still a bit chilled, after all, though the sweater was beyond comfortable.

"I don't...have any of that..." the seadweller added a moment later.

Gramal was definitely staring at him, in a way that made Ophion just a little uncomfortable. There was something about it that reminded him of the way Jeriko would look at him whenever Ophion was under Novall's arm. When he had still be untouchable. But, there wasn't anything cruel about the way the jadeblood's gaze flickered over his legs, so perhaps it wasn't the same. Gramal was nothing like Jeriko. He was safe. There was no reason for Ophion to feel like he needed to make himself small in the other troll's presence.

[11/20/2013 8:37:49 PM] Zeda: It was the first time since his return home that Gramal's eyebrows had departed from their usual furrowed formation, and where they would typically crowded low against the bridge of his nose they were now rising nearer to his hairline than the seadweller had likely ever seen them before. He was speechless, utterly unable to get his parted lips to produce any sort of commentary or coherent acknowledgement. All he managed was a vaguely confused grunt before he closed his mouth again, and then he just sort of- looked away, reaching up to scratch at the shaggy hair at the back of his head that was actually NOT participating in the thin ponytail that he wore.

"-Oh. I- guess that makes sense." He should have known. He'd wondered about the lack of underwear in the wash, but then again he also knew that there had been a time when she was no longer a pupa and not yet gone wrong, when she had hoarded and hand-washed her own because she didn't like the idea of Gramal handling it. Without even thinking he'd just tacitly assumed that his employer was doing the same, and when he was confronted with the truth like this he suddenly felt foolish. How could he even follow up after something like this? He glanced at Ophion, peering over his own forearm as he continued to rub at the base of his skull in a pointless, nervous kind of way, and then after a moment he let his hands drop back towards his sides, figuring that he should move past it if he had any hope of alleviating the awkwardness between them. Clearly Ophion was uncomfortable with his discomfort, after all.

"Well... you prob'ly still need sleep pants or something right? Though I guess I've never washed any pajama bottoms f'r you either..."

[11/20/2013 8:50:12 PM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: "Yeah I...only have slacks," Ophion confirmed, untensing slightly when Gramal moved onward with the conversation. He had slacks, and wetsuits, and a coat. He'd never really needed much in the way of dry clothing because everything stayed wearable for a fair ammount of time with a barrier of neoprene between the cloth and his skin. This sweater was so comfortable, though, he found himself sort of wishing he had some sleep pants. Or a few sweaters of his own. He'd always kept the wetsuits because that was just they way he'd learned to dress, but he didn't spend any time actually in the river or in the ocean anymore, unless he went for a trip there. There was no reason to wear them as part of his everyday dress when he had more comfortable, cozy options.

"I could order some...I guess..." he suggested a second later, pulling his husktop out of his sylladex. The idea of going into the city to buy clothes seemed a little unecessary to him when he could just order some to be delivered. It wasn't as if he couldn't have whatever he wanted here by tomorrow. And all those people...no, ordering clothes would be best. Definitely. Except, he couldn't remember the last time he'd bought anything other than a wetsuit offline. Where did you go for dry clothes? He hesitated, hands hovering over the keyboard. "Um..."

[11/20/2013 9:03:56 PM] Zeda: Gramal didn't really know if it would be overstepping his bounds for him to offer as much, but when Ophion opened up his husktop and sat there with his hands hovering uncertainly near the keys, it became fairly obvious to him that the seaweller probably needed some assistance. Gramal had plenty of experience with ordering things he needed off of the internet, since in the sweeps of his early childhood he had been bound to the caverns like any other jadeblood, but clearly even if he knew all about ordering things off of the digital network Ophion wouldn't know where to start when it came to landweller goods. Even Trollbay was in some ways segregated into land- and sea-dwelling markets, given the incredibly different demands placed on home goods or clothing for the different subspecies. Everything from electronics like husktops and transportalizers, to clothes and shoes, to things like perfume and soda- all of it was made differently based on whether or not the recipient lived above or below the water. The jadeblood wasn't certain that his increased proximity would be welcome, however... he made his way around to the front of the couch, and settled himself carefully beside Ophion. He very staunchly didn't let himself think about the fact that the seadweller was entirely nude beneath the oversized mass of one of his own sweaters. "...You c'n just go t'Trollbay an' click on the 'landweller' tab. Or go t'th'landweller part of Trollamazon maybe."

[11/20/2013 9:13:58 PM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion nodded slowly, tracing his finger over the touch-pad before typing the site into the adress bar and doing as Gramal suggested. He could feel the other troll's slightly warmer body temperature from where the jadeblood was sitting, but he'd made sure not to encroach too far into Ophion's person space, so the seadweller found that he didn't mind too much.

"Is sizing any different...?" he asked as he scrolled through the landweller section on Trollbay, looking for a category that seemed to provide what he was looking for. It was all a bit much, and after a moment of hesitation he finally just typed 'sleep pants' into the search bar. The immediate results looked moderately promising, at least, though he wasn't entirely sure what all he was looking for. After a moment he slid the husktop toward Gramal murmured, "Maybe you should...?"

[11/20/2013 9:20:56 PM] Zeda: Ophion had been doing just fine on his own, or at least Gramal thought so as he watched him click through the options in search of what he was looking for. However, he couldn't really object when the seadweller slid the husktop his way, and although the machine felt expensive and delicate in his broad hands Gramal managed to balance it in the center of his lap and brush his fingers over the screen options without doing it any sort of harm. Apparently he had a very delicate touch, despite his rough and brutish appearance.

"The sizing's a lil' different but you don't have't worry about it. You're small enough't..." Oh, that was kind of insulting for him to point out. Gramal's voice trailed off, humming into an awkward silent note as he glanced over at Ophion, brows furrowing. "...Sorry f'r mentioning that'f you're sensitive about it. Th'point is that you c'n probably wear landtroll sizes jus' fine. May be hard t'find it in'yr colour unless you pay f'r custom dying."

[11/20/2013 9:33:22 PM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion tilted his head to the side slightly when Gramal appologized for the comment on his size, but the seadweller didn't look or seem upset. He was, of course, aware of how small he was, as it had taken him all nine sweeps of his life to get to his current stature, but it was a silly thing to be sensitive about he thought. Especially when he had so many other flaws. Ophion leaned in a little to see what Gramal was pulling up on the screen better, and for a brief second their shoulder accidentally brushed. He retreated fairly quickly from that contact, though.

"I can pay for custome dying," he said. All of the wetsuits he owned were custom designed, paying for just a color wouldn't be much of a hardship. "What do you think I need to buy...? I don't really have many clothes..."

Of course Gramal of all people would certainly be aware of that, considering the fact that he did all of Ophion's laundry. Ophion pulled his bare legs up to his chest as he watched the screen, wrapping his arms around his shins and resting his chin on one knee.

[11/20/2013 10:03:31 PM] Zeda: Gramal swallowed softly when Ophion briefly brushed shoulders with him, and then when he pulled up his legs he made sure to fully engross himself in the contents of his screen, ignoring absolutely every pale grey detail that his peripheral vision wanted to plague him with. There was a whole world of options for Ophion to choose from when it came to sleep pants, and as the jadeblood skimmed through the pages he thought that it would serve well for him to keep the smaller troll's far more expansive assets in-mind. Getting groceries on the cheap was a habit he couldn't break, but in matters of clothing, well... Gramal sort of liked the idea of dressing someone up. If he had the means and the opportunity to do so, he would be remiss if he didn't seize his chance.

"F'r pajama bottoms the best thing's something soft. Maybe..." He opened a few options in their own tabs, simply designed pajama bottoms and set pants that boasted of high-quality cotton and breathable fabrics. He didn't think that Ophion would much like silk, if the point was to get something warm and cozy lke his sweater... he looked a few of those up as well, though it became perfectly clear from the options that he was selecting that he meant to get something a little more appropriately sized for the small seadweller. After that came puffy soft socks that you could wear in the darkest seasons, their soles lines with little gel pads to prevent deadly slipping, and then... well. He wasn't sure that he wanted to look for underwear for Ophion, so he just wrote 'underwear' in the search bar and then passed the husktop into the space between them on the couch. "Jus' pick out the colours and types y'want I guess. An' whatever y'think you might like f'r underwear maybe."

[11/20/2013 10:19:06 PM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion blinked when Gramal set the husktop down, a little confused as to why the jadeblood was relinquishing control over the thing that the seadweller knew the least bit about. He picked up the husktop and slid his legs back down to hang over the edge of the couch, letting the computer rest on his mostly bare thighs. Ophion pursed his lips as he looked over the page slowly, trying to not appear at a complete loss, but he really didn't know what was right to buy. Pretty much everything LOOKED good on the models, but that was sort of the point, and he didn't think looks mattered particularly when they were supposed to be 'under' wear.

Finally he clicked open a few tabs of some moderately appealing boxer-briefs, and then reviewed his cart. Everything that Gramal had added looked good to him, though he might be just a little reluctant to part with the oversized, cozy sweater he had on right now. It wasn't his, though, so he should give it back, even if Gramal didn't mind him borrowing it for today. Finally, Ophion clicked the proceed to payment button and everything was set to arrive in a night's time.

"Thanks," he said, setting the husktop back down onto the table.

[11/20/2013 11:45:47 PM | Edited 11:58:52 PM] Zeda: It was two nights later that Gramal found himself standing in the nutriblock, a room which had by now become very familiar to him. As he worked on buttering the grubtoast and laying cheese between the slices for himself and his employer, he occasionally glanced up from the countertop, stealing glances at Ophion as he thumbed over another page. So-far his employer hadn't nodded off again, apparently engrossed enough in the book that he was reading to keep himself up and awake while he waited for his midnight meal. He'd gotten his new pajamas the first night after he made his online order, but not before Gramal had been given the opportunity to walk downstairs that morning and see more of the seadweller's bare skin than he'd ever meant to. Luckily Ophion hadn't woken up, and although he regarded Gramal's blush with suspicion when he woke up, puzzled, beneath a brand new blanket later, he had simply let it go and no awkward words needed to be exchanged.

Gramal glanced back down at the sandwiches he was toasting up in the skillet, a meal which he would be serving with some of the plates he'd discovered just that evening while putting away some clean dishes. They were in their own quiet cabinet, and while Gramal had taken note of them on prior occasions he had only realized tonight that what was delicately painted into their fine china surface were not sea snakes, but sinuously winding dragons. Gramal had a soft spot for dragons, being his favourite animals by far, and so it had been impossible for him to resist using the plates despite the clear fact that they were probably meant for special occasions only. Once the grilled cheese seemed suitably golden-brown to him, he lifted them up with the spatula and placed them neatly on top of a ready cutting board, gave them each a neat diagonal cut, and then transferred them onto the dragon plates. The cheese oozed out into the valley between each half of the sandwich, beckoning for a bite and stirring a rumble from the depths of Gramal's belly. Although he knew that it was rude to take the first bite when he had set out to cook this for his boss, well... he couldn't quite resist collecting one gooey, cheesy half of his sandwich, collecting some of the escaped cheese with a quick swipe of one toasted corner, and taking a bite. Delicious.

"Lunch's ready!" It didn't seem quite fair that his speech was about as clear when he spoke with his mouth full as it was at any other time. Gramal did his best to ignore that thought as he set down the rest of his sandwich, turned off the burner, and crossed the floor towards the living block with their plates in-hand, still chewing his first bite.

[11/21/2013 12:13:21 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion marked his page and sat up a little as Gramal set their plates down onto the glass table. He set the book aside and had halfway reached for half of his sandwich befer he saw the design peaking up from underneath the bread and oozing cheese. The dragon plates were, most certainly, for special occasions. But not quite the occasion Gramal had likely had in mind. Ophion noted that the jadeblood had already taken a bite from his own plate, and a healthy one at that. The seadweller didn't say anything, instead picking up his own plate and bringing it to his lap. He picked up half of his own sandwich and took a small nibble from a corner, watching Gramal quite sharply for a change. He probably should have told the jadeblood to stop eating. The effects of the toxin in the plate's glaze would wear off faster the less of it he ingested, but Ophion couldn't quite figure out how to say it. So he just...chewed quietly and waited to see what happened once it kicked in.

[11/21/2013 12:41:17 AM] Zeda: The look that Ophion was giving him as he seated himself across from the small seadweller was just a little bit more focused and intent than he'd ever seen it before, and it caused Gramal enough discomfort that his chewing slowed. He couldn't tell what Ophion was looking at, exactly... was it his face? Something slipping out on the split side of his cheek, maybe? He reached up and touched the skin puckered on either side of the scar and felt nothing, no drool or errant sandwich pieces... so, still with a wary slowness, he collected the bitten piece of his sandwich from the plate once more and took another, chewing with greater care now.

That was when he started feeling strange. There was a tingling in his tongue and the back of his throat, the sort of thing that he would have attributed to a food allergy if he hadn't been eating brands that he'd grown up with. He frowned as he looked down at the piece of sandwch, turning it over carefully in his hands... and then those began to tingle as well, starting in the tips of his fingers and working its way slowly inward. His grip was suddenly unreliable, and Gramal felt like he was watching an audiovisual file of someone else's hands at work when he lost his grip on the sandwich and sent it toppling down into the plate with a soft clatter.

"Whuh.." Was that his voice? It was so much more slurred than usual, and the tingling was giving way to numbness and before he knew what was happening he was watching himself crumple and pitch out of his chair, his limbs gone slack and unresponsive.

[11/21/2013 1:06:18 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion watched Gramal topple from his seat and onto the carpet without a shred of surprise, then after a moment let out a soft sigh and stood up. He set his own plate back onto the table with a soft clink and padded over to the jadeblood's still form. The seadweller stared down at him for a moment, then knelt next to him and with some effort rolled Gramal over onto his side. It seemed maybe a tad ironic that this would be their first deliberate physical contact Ophion had initiated with him, and really their first firm contact at all since his near tumble down the stairs the first evening they met. Carefully, the smaller troll made sure Gramal's mouth was clear and that his breathing wasn't obstructed in anyway, then he sat back on his heels and stared at the jadeblood thoughtfully for a moment.

Finally, Ophion said, "Don't eat off the dragon plates. They're for guests we don't like."

He paused for a moment, then realized he should probably elabourate a little more in order to alleviate some of the concerns that were doubtlessly rushing through Gramal's mind. "It's just a temporary paralytic in the glaze. From my lusus...it'll wear off in an hour or so. Probably less...since you're pretty...um...big. Sorry, I didn't think about warning you about them...I mean...they're not...in the main cabinet so..."

He managed a faintly apologetic look, and then went back to his spot on the couch, eating off of his own plate with no apparent ill-effects.

[11/21/2013 1:22:30 AM | Edited 1:25:40 AM] Zeda: The paralytic seemed to have made it impossible for Ophion to tell, even when he rolled his jadeblooded employee onto his back and leaned in to confirm that he was able to breathe, but as he lay there prone beneath Ophion's looming form Gramal was absolutely terrified. He didn't have control of his body, not even enough to tremble with fear when the small troll sat back and looked down at him with that dispassionate, distant expression, but he could certainly feel his heart hammering away inside of his all but lifeless body, fighting to escape and fully intending to leave the rest of him for dead. He had been made helpless like this before, and he knew better than anyone that even the smallest trolls could do nightmarish things to someone like him if they could just incapacitate him. His body lay limp as a ragdoll against Ophion's plush white rug, and there was Ophion watching him with complete dispassion... He'd never seen him like that before, and it felt to him like he had been fooled all over again. Lulled into a false sense of security, tricked into giving his pity and lowering his guard, and now another dangerous little highblood was going to break him, just like she would have said it.

When Ophion stood up he didn't know what he should be expecting, but he definitely didn't expect the smaller troll to just walk away from him like that. Was he just going to bide his time and make his prey suffer? He had time to spare. After all, someone could do so much in an hour... Gramal couldn't wince, couldn't emote his distress, couldn't even really cry- he could only lay there and stare after Ophion as the seadweller took the time to eat his sandwich, calm and disinterested as he went. He was suddenly less small, less sweet and delicate and broken, and much more frightening to Gramal.

[11/21/2013 1:40:55 AM | Edited 1:45:12 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion finished his sandwich and let out a faint hum, before he got up and carried his and Gramal's half-empty plates over to the kitchen. It was a little strange to wash the dishes himself but he didn't want to risk the glaze cracking in the dish washer, so he took a moment to drop the tainted remainder of Gramal's meal into the trash before carefully scrubbing the plates clean and then drying them with a towel, completely oblivious to Gramal's thoughts. It didn't seem like such a big deal to him. An honest mistake, as long as he made sure the jadeblood was safe and comfortable until the toxin wore off. He looked over at Gramal once he'd returned the dragon plates to their special cabinet, biting his lip thoughtfully. Maybe he should give the other troll a pillow?

He padded back over to Gramal and leaned over him to grab one of the more cushy throw pillows off of a chair, then knelt back down next to the jadeblood. Gingerly, like he was cradling a newborn grub, the seadweller lifted Gramal's head and placed the pillow under it. He sat back on his heels to survery his work, then said a little awkwardly, "My...moirail...did the same thing. When I first made the plates...I mean, one of my friends suggested them since...well that's not important. Novall didn't--"

He paused, swallowing a little after the name. Did he really want to talk about this? It was still painful but...he sort of felt like he needed to break the silence. He had no idea what Gramal must think, at least it might make him feel better to know he wasn't the first troll to stumble upon the dragon plates.

Ophion cleared his throat, voice a little huskier than normal and continued awkwardly, feeling like he was loosing steam, "Novall didn't know what they were, and...I hadn't put them in a box yet. He liked my ceramics, so he thought they were for him. It was...sort of funny after the paralytic wore off...I mean...embarrassing, right?"

He looked down at Gramal, face dully hopeful, but there was no way to tell what affect his words were having on the jadeblood.

[11/21/2013 2:25:47 AM] Zeda: He couldn't actually cower when Ophion leaned over him and retrieved the pillow from the chair, nor could he flinch or recoil when the seadweller's thin, cool fingers curled themselves around his skull and lifted his head gently, and although he knew that the pillow had been set there for him that didn't stp GRamal from thinking for one painful, heart-stopping moment that the seadweller could very easily just... twist. He could take his head, the full weight of which was settled in his small hands, and break his neck with no effort whatsoever. By the time his head was settled down against the pillow's puffy support he felt like he could very easily vomit from the stress, though there was no way for him to manage anything of the sort. His heart was pounding violently, sure, but his breathing was only faintly quickened, and he didn't know what that MEANT but he took it as a sign that the paralytic didn't extend its influences to his internal organs, or at least it couldn't do so completely. Otherwise he could have simply suffocated here, or felt it when his own heart betrayed him and stopped beating in his chest.

He sort of realized, almost in a distant way at first, that Ophion was telling him something. Something in a halting, vulnerable tone that didn't ease his suffering in the slightest, but that still managed to capture his attention none the less. What was he saying? His moirail...? And they thought it was funny when it was all said and done, nothing more than embarrassing... the concept struck him as absolutely insane, since this was in the same vein as the worst kind of hell that he had ever experienced, but. Maybe, at least, this meant that Ophion wouldn't hurt him. He couldn't really see the seadweller so well from his current angle, his eyes having rolled in his direction only to the best of their failing ability, but maybe he wasn't going to be hurt now. He was reluctant to think so, but... the pillow at least, especially when coupled with mention of his moirail, sort of gave him the impression that this situation probably wouldn't escalate any further.

It wasn't like he was actually calming down at this point, but Gramal was starting to be just a little less petrified.

[11/21/2013 2:39:36 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion rocked back on his heels a little, not totally sure what to say next. He was never very good at conversing, but he didn't know if he should just leave Gramal to his own devices. He shouldn't go to sleep until the jadeblood was under his own power again, just in case. The seadweller liked his new employee, and certainly didn't want anything bad to happen to him because of some silly mistake. He hoped Gramal wouldn't be angry when he regained mobility. He'd only ever been mild with Ophion since they'd met, but he had no idea what might upset the jadeblood. Ophion stifled a yawn, then got to his feet, thinking he should stay up and about if he didn't want to nod off. Maybe he should make Gramal a sandwich to make up for the one that he hadn't been able to finish.

Maybe some cocoa too? The jadeblood had brewed some for him when he'd had that awful nightmare before. Ophion had no confidence in his own cocoa brewing skills but he didn't doubt that there would be some sort of recipe or instructions on the box he could follow. If he judged right, Gramal would start feel pins and needles before much longer, so maybe he'd be in a talking state again by the time the cocoa was done. Yes, that seemed like a good plan. Ophion wandered into the kitchen and pulled the box of cocoa and various sandwich ingredients out. He fumbled a little with the toast, and burned the cheese a little, but he hoped that would be ok. He let the clumsy little sandwish rest on a safe plate and started trying to make the cocoa. It smelled ok at least, though he wasn't sure if Gramal had microwaved it like this when he had made it.

Once it was finished, he came back over and put the things down onto the table, hovering hesitantly over Gramal and looking to see if he was moving yet at all before he said, "Um...I tried to make you a new sandwich...it's probably...not very good. Do you feel...better? Yet?"

[11/21/2013 3:23:58 AM | Edited 3:36:00 AM] Zeda: Gramal hadn't yet managed to regain the ability to speak in the time that it took Ophion to do his cooking, but his eyes had taken on a watery sheen and his fingers had begun to twitch and flex with just the faintest impulse of self control slowly returning to his body. Although he couldn't get his tongue to do anything more than lay useless and limp in the cradle of his jaw, he was able to at least frown and furrow his brow the faintest, twitchiest bit at his employer, and it seemed to him that if he had enough time he might be able to roll himself onto his side soon enough. It didn't really matter to him if the food was burned or mis-made, honestly, because at this point he felt so drained and weary from this experience that he wasn't sure if he would eat anything that was placed before him regardless of its state, or if he would rather crawl away somewhere safe and fall asleep for a while.

"...Gnuh..." That wasn't a word at all. Gramal closed his mouth, having obtained at least that much mobility now... and after a few long, quiet moments he made that attempt to roll himself over, curling-up on his side against the plush carpet and shivering. He wasn't cold, really, but the unspent adrenaline was making him tremble now that he was coming back to himself. He coughed softly, his body jerking oddly against the floor, and then the jadeblood seemed to determine that another attempt at speech was in order.

"...Dun... rilly f'll bettr... yed." Would the seadweller even be able to understand what he'd just said? Gramal didn't know, and frankly, he was too exhausted to try any harder just yet.

[11/21/2013 3:32:15 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: "Um...I would offer to prop you up but...I think you're probably too heavy for me to try to move..." Ophion said awkwardly, still hovering and unsure what to do now that Gramal was shaking. Novall hadn't shaken like that. He'd called Ophion a mean name and then said something sarcastic and self-deprecating. He didn't want to touch Gramal again, because he felt now that would probably make worse whatever was going on with the jadeblood. The seadweller knew at least that HE wouldn't want Gramal to touch him if the situation had been reverse.

So, he kept hovering for a moment longer before asking meekly, "Do you need me to do...anything...?"

[11/21/2013 3:53:52 AM] Zeda: As he lay there quietly, slowly regaining the mobility of his fingers and tongue enough that he could move again, Gramal didn't really cry. He DID, however, happen to have tears in his eyes when he glanced up at Ophion, his expression otherwise settling back into its usual simple, baseline frown. It took some maneuvering on his part, but eventually he was able to get his arms beneath his torso and push himself up, slowly and shakily managing to do his OWN job of propping himself up against the foot of his chair. The jadeblood had only ended-up shedding one or two tears total, but he reached up and dully swiped the back of one fits across his eyes anyway, clearing the moisture and blinking tiredly at the seadweller.

"...Nuh. 'Guess'm fine now." Now that he was actually able to turn his head and look at the food that Ophion brought for him, he found that he wasn't exactly hungry. However, he reached out and touched the mug of cocoa anyway, frowning a little at the quaking of his fingers against the warm ceramic.

[11/21/2013 4:04:25 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Hesitantly, Ophion knelt next to him, far enough away that he wasn't violating either of their personal space, but close enough that he might be able to catch the mug if Gramal happened to pick it up and drop it. The jadeblood didn't exactly seem 'fine', easy enough for for Ophion to tell, but he didn't really know what else do it. He'd already done everything he could think of, so finally he said, "I don't know how good the cocoa will...taste but...I thought it might help..."

He twisted his hands in his lap in an uncommon release of tension, swallowing thickly. The seadweller looked sort of like he was bracing for a blow, but he hadn't retreated to a safe distance if he was really expecting that to happen, so it was probably just a reflexive posture. He didn't mention the tears or the trembling, though they made Ophion think that something bad had happened to the jadeblood that the paralytic had brought surging back to memory. Gramal always seemed so solid, Ophion didn't know what to think of the idea that the other troll had also suffered through something terrible. If someone big and strong like that could have something horrible happen to them...well, he didn't know what that meant.

"I'm sorry..." he said weakly, looking downward. He wasn't really sure what he was appologizing for in specific, but then that wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. Was it for not thinking to tell Gramal not to use the dragon plates? Or not warning the other troll after he'd already started eating of one? Really, he didn't know what he could've said then but maybe SOMETHING. Maybe he was appologizing for whatever had happened to the jadeblood to make his strong hands shake like that. "I'm...I'm really, really sorry..."

[11/21/2013 4:30:21 AM] Zeda: Gramal didn't try to pick up his mug right then. Instead he only paused, and lifted his head shakily so that he could focus his attention on the seadweller's now apparently shrinking form, blinking slowly at the smaller troll. He was trying to hold himself together here, and it was probably obvious to Ophion that he wasnt in any sort of state to be worthy of being considered a threat. Why was he shaking like that, then? He knew by now that Ophion had suffered at SOMEONE'S hands, those of the troll that had branded his back with that crooked arrow and that crass assertion of ownership, but... he had been weak just then. Ophion could have killed him or worse, and the thought still echoed in the darkness of Gramal's mind with such chill emptiness that it dragged a shiver down his spine. But instead of regarding him with calm dispassion like he had before, Ophion instead sounded apologetic. Small and delicate and broken all over again, and where he would have found the seadweller's demeanor to be nothing but saddening before this, Gramal had to admit that in this moment, with his limbs still quaking, he was just a little... relieved, to see that Ophion was afraid of him. Sick as it was, it made him feel just a little bit safer, and a little more willing to relax his shaking body with a deep, cleansing sigh.

And then of course, as though being released from a gate that had he;d the feelings at bay until now, he was rememering just how pitiable the poor seadweller could be.

"...S'okay Ophion." It wasn't the textbook definition of 'okay,' sure, but it was better than it could have been. Neither of them were dead, and when he reached out with one trembling hand he only lay it on the smaller troll's shoulder lightly, patting him softly. Keeping the contact short.

"I w's just scared. M'fine now."

[11/21/2013 5:04:54 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion flinched visibly when Gramal patted him on the shoulder, but he didn't make a sound, and once the jadeblood had ended the contact the seadweller swallowed and tried to pretend he hadn't reacted that way. His hands untwisted in his lap though, as if the blow he'd been bracing for was no longer a threat, and after a moment he finally peaked up at Gramal from beneathe his fringe in that streangely demure way he did sometimes. And, really, he was curious about whatever had made the jadeblood react that way to something Novall had laughed off, but he'd never consider asking. He didn't want to talk about his own torments, so how could he ask about Gramal's. Gramal, whom he was starting to hope might be something like a friend.

"Okay..." the seadweller said slowly, sinking the bottom half of his face into the high collar of his turtleneck, not unlike the shirt's namesake, and looking back toward his hands. When he spoke again his voice was muffled, but understandable. "I don't...like talking about...certain things. But...you offered to listen to me if I ever needed it. So...uhm...if you ever need...to talk..."

He trailed off, letting the offer hang in the air between them for a moment before he added weakly, "I...I mean...I might know what you're going through."

[11/21/2013 2:42:56 PM] Zeda: Gramal pursed his lips when Ophion flinched, withdrawing his hand immediately, and it was immediately far less of a relief to him that the small troll was intimidated by him. It boded well for his survival, sure, but no matter how terrified he had been as he lay here on the floor he couldn't actually see any sense in it, now that he was watching Ophion retreat into his high turtleneck. It was sort of like waking from a daymare that had been absolutely horrifice, panting and shaking, only to slowly recall that the contents of his dream hadn't been frightening at all. He felt rather foolish now, and although he absolutely didn't want to open up and share the details of his life or the things that had happened to him with Ophion, he almost felt as though he sort of... owed him. For having thought for even a moment that someone like him would do him harm. It would be like his own, private apology for that moment of cruel comfort he'd derived from Ophion's fear.

"...It w's someone small'n highblooded like you. En'I w's paralyzed like that." His speech was slow and soft, his voice taking on a heavier note of that rattling roughness that always lurked at the edges. This was far from something that Gramal wanted to talk about, and even saying THAT much felt like too much by far. His expression darkened, facial muscles now responsive enough to accomodate a grimace as he turned his eyes away from Ophion's face, busying himself with examining the cocoa that he lifted towards his face. "But you wouldn' do what she did't me. I know that. I jus' forgot f'r a momen."

[11/21/2013 2:58:39 PM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion nodded slowly, unsure as always what to say at first, but finally managing another, "I'm sorry..."

He got to his feet and finally wandered back to his spot on the couch, sinking down onto the white cushions. The seadweller wanted to go to sleep now that this was over, but he was afraid to again. Watching Gramal's hands shake, and hearing about whatever 'she' had done to him made Ophion think that a few monsters might be waiting for HIM on the other side of wakefulness. He watched Gramal with the cocoa for a minutes, wondering if it tasted okay, before he reiterated, "Don't eat off the dragon plates."

Maybe if he said that again it would help. Now that he knew how terriffied Gramal must have been a moment ago, he didn't know how much of what he'd said to the jadeblood had really sunk in. Maybe if he explained where the plates came from? Gramal seemed mostly okay now, 'mostly' being the operative word, so maybe Ophion shouldn't bother. But he did sort of owe an exchanged explanation after hearing THAT.

"I was having some...trouble. A while back," Ophion ventured timidly. His tone was even more halting than normal as he tried to put the words together without going to deep into anything about Jeriko. "I mean...nothing like what I--maybe a sweep ago. Um, the girl who was auspisticising between me and...well, she suggested I make some plates I could use if...I needed them."

[11/21/2013 3:31:36 PM] Zeda: His auspistice suggested it, and although Ophion didn't outright SAY so the implication was clear. A kismesis. Ophion had made those poisoned plates so that he could protect himself based on the suggestions of an auspistice, and if he was going to such extreme lengths to ensure his protection from this other troll then it stood to reason that the ashen was formed for prevention rather than maintenance. The thought that Ophion's suffering had come through a means even remotely similar to his own made Gramal's throat tighten, and as he sipped at the microwaved cocoa he couldn't get that tightness to leave. They hadn't shared all that much about what had happened to them, really, but this small exchange of words... it felt like it said quite a lot. More than enough.

"...'M sorry too." He took another log, slow sip, and this time it seemed as though the hot liquid was doing its job, soothing away the tension in his throat and easing away his trembling. Yes, this was better. It'd be okay now. The jadeblood set his mug back down and took a deep breath, in through his nose and then out with a breathy sigh through his lips.

"...Well. The plates work." The words were delivered so flatly that it had to have been meant to be at least a LITTLE funny, and Gramal finally lifted his eyes and looked at the seadweller again, settled and at-ease in a way that contrasted sharply with how uncomfortable the conversation and the events that preceeded it had been. "An th'situation's probably different now. But you have me aroun' to help now too."

[11/22/2013 3:24:47 PM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion nodded slowly, glancing up at Gramal when he heard the mug clink back onto the tabletop before looking away again. The flat humor in the statement about the plates sailed right by him, but at least the jadeblood wasn't angry with him, or upset anymore. Gramal was so close to being 'safe' to the seadweller, even after they'd only known one another for a little over a perigee now, Ophion hoped nothing happened to ruin that. He really did like the jadeblood, after all.

“The situation is different…yeah…” Ophion agreed with a weak nod. Very different, but he wasn’t quite ready to go into that. Still, it was a nice idea that Gramal would be around, though Ophion couldn’t foresee any complications in his current life that would require him to need…protecting? Maybe? Well, he’d needed protecting when he’d first met Gramal and hired him, but that was sort of a rare occurance when the seadweller was so used to going through life [and town] unnoticed. Regardless of that he couldn’t deny it was nice to have someone around to take care of him again. “Um…thanks, though.”

[11/22/2013 3:50:29 PM] Zeda: The joke went uncelebrated, but Gramal was relatively used to that since he rarely made jokes to begin with. Jokes required a certain cleverness of the tongue that the jadeblood was utterly lacking, and he might have honestly been far more surprised if the seadweller were to laugh at anything he said. So, he lifted up the sandwich that had been made for him, and as he took a bite the cheese that had oozed out past the edges of the grubtoast and onto the skillet crunched between his teeth. A little over-cooked, sure, but Gramal didn't show any sign of displeasure with his meal. It wasn't the sort of thought that he had any interest in giving voice to, however... it seemed to him that regardless of the things that had happened to them in the past, they were at least now presented with the potential to be a stronger unit together than either of them had been apart. Maybe he was still little more or less than an employee to Ophion, but Gramal thought that as unusual as the circumstances had been tonight, they might have become just a bit more like... friends, maybe. At least enough that they were willing to share even the barest slivers of detail about their pasts with one-another. He finished the first half of his new sandwich in a few short bites, and the silence between them felt less weighty than it could have.

"...I know that'y sleep a lot an' that you must need it. But I hope y' start't feel better soon." He said it as mildly as he possibly could, not pushing in the slightest, but as the jadeblood lifted his eyes to look at the seadweller's pretty face it seemed clear that now, he was pretty sure that Ophion wasn't really sick. At least, not physically. Still, he didn't seem to be put off by it, or trying to warn him into getting over it. It just seemed as though the sentiments that he expressed especially in that latter statement were purely genuine.

[11/22/2013 4:54:18 PM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion was a little surprised by Gramal's last statement, but he nodded quietly. And, speaking of sleep, it seemed like high time that he got back to that. Now that everything seemed mostly okay and things had calmed down, he was exhausted. So, the seadweller captchalogued his book that had been left neglected on the couch, and pulled his blankets from his sylladex, settling in amongst them like always, and dropping off to sleep easily without another word.

The next few nights passed comfortably enough between the two of them, their by now somewhat normal routine in place. Ophion spent a few minutes one evening rearranging some of his playlists in his music player because he'd gotten a little tired of a few of the songs that played on the loop, but nothing seemed much out of the ordinary. He set the rearrange playlist to play on shuffle so that he didn't have the play order memorized anymore, and then went to go about his routine.

A few hours passed. Long enough for the seadweller to complete his lengthy ablutions in the shower, nibble something Gramal had made for him to eat, and fall back to sleep. Everything was essentially proceeding normally. After Ophion had been asleep for a little while though, the playlist ended, but instead of looping back to the beginning like it usually did, there was dead air for a few seconds before something that sounded like a piano started playing. It went on for a few minutes, just the piano before a familiar violin joined in, and a couple songs passed like that. It seemed a little odd, but not impossible that Ophion would have added it to his playlist. Until the weird part happened.

A new song started with the piano, but after a few bars, someone started singing, quiet and timid, in a faintly husky voice, though the words were too faint to understand. Whoever had been playing the piano seemed to notice too because a second or two later the music stopped and a second voice said, "You do realize that the goal here is for you to sing at a volume louder than something only barkbeasts can hear?"

The second voice was unfamiliar, deep with a rich, warm timbre. Teasing, but not totally unkind. A moment later Ophion's voice replied in the recording, "Sorry...it's intimidating when I know we're recording..."

"Don't worry about it, okay?" the deeper voice said. "We're going to cut out whatever doesn't sound good anyway, so there's nothing to be intimidated about. You wanna try again?"

"Okay..."

A second later the piano started up again, and soon after Ophion's singing. He had a good voice, soft an unimposing, but the way he sang it was almost on a personal level, like he sounded as if he was speaking directly to whoever was listening. And, he sounded almost happy, talking with the other voice in the recording, even if he was intimidated or nervous. This must be from a long time ago. The song ended with Ophion saying, "How was that...?" But whatever answer he'd gotten had been cut off when they'd stopped recording, as he was followed with the sound of a violin accompanying a piano once more, this time the deeper voice was singing.

On the couch the seadweller turned over in his sleep a little restlessly, making a soft sound, but he didn't wake up.

[11/23/2013 1:22:10 AM] Zeda: Gramal was putting away some of Ophion's freshly cleaned pajamas in his respiteblock upstairs when he first realized that what he was listening to sounded like two instruments playing in unison, rather than one. He had missed it at first, the classical music blending into a soft background noise to which he had become accustomed by now, but when he noticed it Gramal lifted his head slightly, frowning at the change. But despite being new and different, it didn't seem all that strange to him, so ultimately the jadeblood went back to folding Ophion's pajama bottoms and putting them away in his wardrobifier, and that was that.

Until, of course, he heard the singing. The words may have been inaudible, but the husky softness of it... Gramal stopped everything that he was doing and stood to listen, tipping his chin slightly upward as if he would be able to hear better of he looked up at the speakers overhead. There was no doubt in his mind that the voice singing now belonged to Ophion. And then came the deep, drawling voice of another troll, and Gramal thought that he must be hearing something that Ophion didn't mean to have on this playlist. He pursed his lips and made his way out of his employer's respiteblock, keeping his steps light and careful so that he wouldn't make a noise and disrupt his ability to hear the recording. Downstairs, Ophion was still fast asleep on the couch as the conversation continued playing, and as he settled one broad hand on top of the railing he recognized that the seadweller was stirring faintly. It was strange to look down on his slumbering form and simultaneously hear the voice that was coming across the speakers right now. He just sounded so... vibrant. He sounded absolutely full of life as he sang, tone sweet and modestly happy, and it clashed violently with theversion of Ophion that he had become so familiar with by now, wary and slightly broken. Who was this singing now? And, should he even go downstairs and wake the sleeping seadweller while this was happening...?

[11/23/2013 1:39:51 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: As Gramal hesitated at the bottom of the steps the song ended and someone started talking again, as if they'd pressed the record button mid-statement--the deep voice from before, "--what he told me."

"That's stupid," Ophion's voice replied to whatever the previous sentence had been about, and a few violin notes sounded as if he was putting a few final tuning adjustments to his violin. "Anceri said he's under a lot of stress though...I feel sort of bad for him..."

"Oh she's no better," the deep voice replied with a sarcastic sort of snort. "And she really gets on my nerves. Whenever I want to have some decent black with him she cockblocks me. Like it's her JOB to keep bruises off of EVERYONE."

There was a brief silence and then the deep voice said again, "Sorry, I didn't mean--Jeriko's different. Besides, honestly you don't NEED her to auspisticise with him when you've got me."

"...you're not always around," Ophion replied a little sullenly, then made a few more test notes on his violin. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah sorry it took so long to re-tune. Mako really knows how to fuck with my things." A few keys on the piano sounded off, and then there was a rustling like someone had turned to a page in the sheet music. And then they started playing again without another word, totally in sync with each other. There wasn't any more converstation in that recordning, and once the song ended the playlist shuffled on to solo piano piece.

[11/23/2013 2:02:58 AM] Zeda: It felt like he was eavesdropping on someone else's private conversation, but there was something deeply strange about knowing that this recording had to have been made ages and ages ago. Ophion was alone now, after all, no matter how many people the voices coming across the speakers seemed to be talking about. Anceri... that was the name of his auspistice, then. And the kismesis that she had been keepin at bay was someone named Jeriko. He didn't recall ever having heard of anyone named Mako before , but what really seemed to matter was the identity of the troll who owned that deep, warm voice. He seemed to play off of Ophion so naturally, like they were two instruments in a long-practiced duet... was this his moirail talking now? All the while that he was thinking these things through Gramal had been making his way across the first floor, and it was by now becoming a very natural occurence to find himself standing before the couch where Ophion slept. Only now, he was looking at him a bit differently. Hearing how he sounded when he spoke to someone who made him comfortable and happy just seemed to underscore how very, very different he sounded now. It sort of... hurt, actually. Just a bit, but it hurt in some strange and inexplicable way.

The piano was playing softly when Gramal knelt down in front of the couch and touched a thin shoulder that was wrapped in his own oversized sweater. He had no business touching Ophion and he knew it. He didn't even have any business getting as close as he was now, especially if he thought that all he was doing was waking him up to... to what, exactly? The contents of this audio file were already obvious to him, so there was no way that he would have had to ask what or who they were talking about. He just kind of felt like he wanted to be close to him all of a sudden.

[11/23/2013 2:17:25 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion made a soft sound when Gramal touched him, and cuddled up against the jadeblood's broad chest, not really awake, but stirring a little from total slumber. One of his thin arms slid a little ways around the larger troll's middle in a half-hug, and about the same time that a new song started playing, with that deep voice singing it, the seadweller murmured sleepily into Gramal's ribcage, "Mm...Novall...I had a dream about...."

He trailed off slowly, as if slowly realising something the closer to full conciousness he got, and then he pulled away, looking confused for a second. Then Ophion's gaze shot up towards one of the ceiling speakers and a mildly horrified look flickered across his face as he realized what he'd just done and what was playing over the speakers. The seadweller had no idea how much of the playlist had been gone through while he was asleep, and he immediately fumbled for the universal remote to turn it off, cutting Novall off mid-note. The following silence was abrupt, and he tried to think of something to say or do.

Finally, Ophion fell into his default, and managed to stammer, "S-Sorry."

[11/23/2013 3:06:06 AM] Zeda: Gramal's spine stiffened only vaguely when Ophion's thin arm wound around his middle, and while he knew damn well that the seadweller wouldn't be happy when he realized what he was doing, he just couldn't bring himself to make the smaller troll come to his senses. It was just that he felt so vulnerable, and when he started mumbling softly against his chest his husky voice for a moment sounded almost comfortable again. Almost content in a way that Gramal hadn't ever heard it before. He didn't let himself put an arm around the seadweller's shoulders in return, and he imagined that doing so wouyld have damned him to never be trusted again, but that didn't mean that he didn't desperately WANT to. In this moment, Gramal felt like he wanted to just... hold him. And he knew that that was wrong, especially when the smaller troll was mumbling someone else's name against his ribs.

But the impulse only worsened when Ophion came to his senses, jerking away and fumbling hastily for the remote, and he KNEW that cutting off that rich voice must have hurt in some way if he was out here all alone now. Novall was dead, he was sure of it. Nobody would have pitied someone like Ophion so much that they became perfectly in-synch with him, and then just left him alone. The jadeblod wasn't really paying attention to what his face was emoting when Ophion started stammering out his apology, but the way that he was looking at Ophion made it clear that he'd heard far more than enough.

"You don' have t' apologize..." He shook his head slowly, his lips pressed into a thin frown as he watched the boy's face. He still wanted to hug him, and that was dangerous but undeniable. "You sounded... happy. Comfortable. It wasn' any of my business t'listen. But I liked hearing you like that."

[11/23/2013 3:37:46 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion looked a little surprised, or as surprised as his normally dull expression could manage now, at Gramal's words. He was trembling a little, the movement most visible in his shoulders, especially when the seadweller folded his thin arms around himself and looked away. He thought he should say something, maybe explain what that was, who Novall had been. But he couldn't think how, didn't WANT to. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but each time he took a breath to speak, nothing came out.

Finally after the silence had stretched on between them to an uncomfortable degree, he managed to choke out, "He took care of me. K-kept me...safe. He's dead."

The seadweller knew it was an obvious statement, that Novall was dead. But he couldn't NOT say it. He had to remind himself sometimes. It still felt like yesterday sometimes, when they would play together. All Ophion could do now was let himself by consumed by the void inside him. But, Gramal was still there, kneeling solidly next to the couch. And, it seemed like...Ophion wasn't sure. Maybe, that the jadeblood really was concerned. Pitying, maybe. Still hugging himself, Ophion looked back up at Gramal.

"I'm not...very good at taking care of myself...or protecting myself," he confessed, as if it hadn't already been obvious. "I...got forced into a...a really bad kismesis when Novall...died. Jeriko...kept me locked up and did--things. A...a lot of stuff. He's...dead now too but I'm..."

'Not' was what he wanted to say. Not dead. Though it didn't always feel like a victory.

[11/23/2013 3:59:52 AM] Zeda: Gramal ground his teeth hard against one another, setting his jaw tightly as he listened to Ophion choke out every breath of his explanation as though it were his last, his voice shaking as badly as the rest of him while he sat there on the couch. He was doing his best not to touch, reminding himself just how badly Ophion flinched away from being touched, underscoring the importance of NOT touching especially when he said that this unwanted kismesis forced him, locked him up, DID stuff, and even though he knew far too well exactly how horrific this story really was he just couldn't bear to keep his hands locked into tight fists at his sides any longer. Regardless of whether or not it was a good idea or would be welcome at all, he couldn't just watch Ophion shiver at the edge of what could very well be tears and do nothing for him. He reached out then, not in slow-motion but certainly not fast enough to force himself on the seadweller if he wasn't welcome, and it was just so easy to wrap his arms all the way around Ophion's trembling frame, enveloping him like there was nothing to him at all.

He was grateful that Jeriko was already dead, or else he would have to hunt him down and kill him.

"I'm sorry..." He didn't mean to sound pale, but placating someone with a soft murmur like that was very few things if not that. He tried to let his chest feel like a barrier, a wall between Ophion and the space outside of them both. "What happened t'you was awful. You didn' deserve it..." That part felt strange to say, because it was more along the lines of something he always wished someone would have said to HIM. He needed to say something better for Ophion, something more personal. "I'm here now t'take care'f you. I'll keep you safe-- if y' want me here. If that's okay."

[11/23/2013 4:11:29 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion didn't retreat from Gramal's approach, though he tensed when the other troll embraced him. The jadeblood could feel him, stiff but still shaking in his arms, but after a few moments, while Gramal was speaking, the seadweller slowly relaxed until he had melted against the larger troll's chest, still shuddering a little but not protesting the contact. And after a few moments of silence Gramal became aware of Ophion's delicate fingers winding in against the fabric of his shirt, as if returning the hug however minimalistically.

"...thank you," the seadweller said softly, words half muffled against Gramal's sternum. He felt strange, being embraced like this. It didn't hurt, or fill him with dread like he would have expected. It was...nice. Comfortable. And it DID feel safe. Something Ophion hadn't really felt in a while.

[11/23/2013 4:54:11 AM] Zeda: There was a fraction of a moment there, with the seadweller still tense and trembling in his arms, that Gramal sincerely thought that Ophion might want to push him away. But then he could almost feel every tensed muscle across the seadweller's back slowly relax, and he was left with a body bonelessly wilting against him and thin, cool fingers cirling themselves against his ribs, clutching at the material of his dark green shirt as they settled there against one-another. Gramal was going to respect what few boundaries he hadn't broken yet, he kept on promising himself that much, but as soon as that soft little 'thank you' was muttered against his chest, well... he was somewhat lost, and he had already tipped his cheek down against Ophion's dark hair before he could even think to stop himself, one stubby horn almost too close in front of his eyes for him to see it right. At this proximity, though, he could see the evidence of what he thought might be the scraping patterns of a file... and he held him more securely, exhaling a soft huff of air against the smaller troll's temple. Now he was a bit angry that Jeriko WASN'T dead, because he would have liked to have killed him himself.

He sat there for a few long, quiet moments before he realized that he had been working the thumb of one hand very shallowly against Ophion's shoulderblade, a sort of minute petting gesture that he wasn't sure was even welcome. He was overstepping enough boundaries already, he really should just stop.

"...If'y ever need one. Of these I mean." The offer was implicit, but obvious.

[11/23/2013 5:24:42 AM] Samlet Bird Hamlet: Ophion shifted in his arms slightly so that he could look up at Gramal's face. From this proximity it was easy to see the scar that puckered down the side of the seadweller's face, cutting across his eyelid and dividing the lashes there. His good eye was moist, though, but no tears slipped from it as Ophion gazed at the jadeblood. It was impossible to tell what exactly was going through the smaller troll's mind until he spoke again, breath cool against the side of Gramal's neck.

"Okay..." His fingers tightened in a little in Gramal's shirt as he said, a silent acceptance to accompany the spoken one. He lay his head back against Gramal's chest again, letting out a soft sound that could almost have been a purr. A few moments passed until it finally became apparent that Ophion had fallen back to sleep nestled securely in the jadeblood's arms.

[11/23/2013 5:51:33 AM] Zeda: Looking down at Ophion when he pulled away, seeing the scar that ran a course down over his left eye and the moisture clinging in his dark lashes, Gramal couldn't help but think that he was beautiful. Really beautiful and sweet, and deserving of so much love and care for all of the hardships he had been through. When the seadweller agreed to take him up on his offer concerning more embraces like this one, he offered one of his best and most gentle not-frowns in return, the set of his eyes softening slightly as the smaller troll leaned back into him one more... and then, seemingly within moments, he was asleep.

Gramal blinked slowly, staring down at the small figure curled-up in his arms. He had fallen asleep just like that, no signs of dozing or anything! It was absolutely adorable, even if it put him in a weird position. He glanced around, trying to assess the situation and frowning faintly at the options at-hand. Should he just put him back on the couch and let him sleep alone? Tat didn't seem right, not when he was curled-up so contentedly against him. Maybe the floor would be a good spot to lay down with him...? That seemed like it would be way too hard a surface to sleep on, even with the plush white carpet in the way. No, no... the answer was obvious. As carefully as he could Gramal drew the small seadweller's body into his arms, securing him against his chest at least securely enough that he was able to lift him slightly. With a few slow, awkward maneuvers, Gramal was eventually able to get himself situated on the couch with Ophion lying on top of him, and other than a bit of silent stirring once or twice during the adjustments, he didn't seem as though his sleep had been disturbed in the least. That was a relief. Gramal lay his head back against the arm rest and stared up at the ceiling for some time, listening to the sound of Ophion's breathing against his chest in the perfect silence of his hive. And, eventually, he drifted off to sleep himself, a furnace beneath the seadweller's chilly weight.

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