#moreouch

((As an immediate follow up to: http://sophiagrave-ffxiv.tumblr.com/post/158330455017/sophia-zaius-blood-bullets

Written with @tiergan-vashir

@sophiagrave-ffxiv ))

A messy trail of blood running down the street was not the most promising sign when one was on his way home with a bag of groceries. Tiergan eyed it with a sense of apprehension, hesitating only briefly before continuing on his way. He hoped, at some point, the streak of red would veer off - away from his destination and away from his place of ‘safety’. But of course, the gods were never quite that merciful. Tiergan found himself staring straight at the entrance to Zaius’ home, the dark vermilion vanishing right under the wooden door.   Fishing for his keys just a little faster than normal, Tiergan unlocked the door, shoved it open and bolted inside, freezing still just before the threshold to see the long line of blood continuing through the house. It vanished down into the basement towards Zaius’ training room, and breathing a little easier, Tiergan closed the front door behind him. “Zaius?”  He called out as he stepped further into the house, descending down the steps to the lower level.  As he went, a familiar scent assaulted his nose; the acrid smell of Zaius' herbal healing remedy. Passed down through the temples that followed the Fury of Halone, rare as they were, the half-blood knew that it aided healing and that it was difficult to make in Eorzea, owing to the herbs Zaius had to purchase from the few merchants that brought them in from across the sea. He followed the scarlet trail to just the room he’d assumed it would lead and stood in the open archway, gazing inside. The bag of groceries hit the ground by his feet with a slam and Tiergan stared. “...What the hells happened to you?”

The Keeper was seated on a simple, but solid metal chair. In a small bowl, on another chair to his left, was a collection of bloody metal fragments, and Tiergan had caught him just as he pulled yet another one from his right thigh, which rested on a weight lifting bench. It looked mangled, but...not. Blood ran freely in small trickles from several small injuries, spattering lightly on the ground below, and Zaius seemed to be digging out the shards with his clawed gauntlets. "Ah'ra," he hissed through gritted teeth. "What brings you over?" Tiergan's gaze swept across the injured miqo'te, taking in his other injuries. A bandage over one of his shoulders, another long but narrow one across his torso, and it was clear he'd been punched a few times in the face, although those were faded to the point they looked a few days old. Not for the first time, Tiergan felt a flash of envy for the other's ability to recoup damage thanks to his monk training.

“I came with groceries. I was hoping I could convince you to cook.” The halfblood was at the Keeper’s side in seconds, batting away the other man’s bloodied claws with a low growl of warning.  Tiergan drew in close, getting a better look at the damage, making note of the remaining shards of metal still protruding messily from ragged flesh.  It was gory to look at - and likely had been far, far worse before the combination of Zaius’ training and medicine kicked in.   Rising to his feet, Tiergan marched towards a still-open first aid kit lying on a table not far from where the Keeper sat, two more bowls of the acrid-smelling healing remedy sitting beside it.  Gathering what he needed from the kit and picking up the bowl containing a thicker, more salve-like variant of the Zaius’ restorative, Tiergan returned, quickly setting to work pulling the shard of shrapnel out of the Keeper’s flesh with sterilized tools and applying the medicine liberally over the gaping wounds.  Tiergan glanced up briefly, pale eyes trying to read the other man’s expression. “Who did this? You get into fights often enough, but I’ve never seen you come back looking like this.”

"Sophia Grave," Zaius said, and grinned despite his injuries, although it faded slightly and turned into another soft hiss as he yanked yet another shard of metal from his thigh. "She is full of all sorts of tricks." He chuckled, and dropped the piece in the bowl with its like. "This?" He gestured at his injured leg. This close Tiergan could see that the armored plate around his thigh had been burst apart, but thinly, and into shards; the same ones Zaius was now removing from his own flesh. In fact, it appeared as if the wounds had partially healed *around* the injuries, requiring the Keeper to dig them out. "Explosive wire. My own fault, jumping through her little fireball cloud, but oh well."

Tiergan actually found himself cracking a faint smile himself, his eyes still focused upon the task of removing pieces of jagged metal one by one and placing them in the bowl with the rest. When a good section of the Keeper’s thigh was free of shards, Tiergan set about applying medicine and bandaging the wounds with clean strips of linen.  “You had fun then.”  There was a hint of amusement in the halfblood’s tone.

"Absolutely. Turns out I am not as good a shot as...I'm a terrible shot," he said with a chuckled, and then a low growl as Tiergan applied the salve-soaked linen bandages to his bloody thigh. "Rgh. But my new metals hold up alright even to Garlean weapons." A pause. "For the first shot, at least. Heavy though."

Tiergan’s brows lifted and he barely repressed a laugh. “You tried to shoot a gun?”  The halfblood shook his head, tying the bandage into a tight knot and checking to ensure the bindings weren’t tight enough to cut off bloodflow.   “...Didn’t think you had the calm for it.” He muttered.

"I don't," Zaius replied wryly. "Not at all." He went silent while Tiergan did his work, letting the other miqo'te bind his injuries. The Keeper’s ears flattened when Tiergan pulled particularly hard to staunch the wound on his shoulder, but otherwise he was nearly reaction less to the flashes of discomfort and pain along his body.

The pale-haired miqo’te continued on, checking not just the wounds along the Keeper’s thigh and shoulder, but the bandages looped about Zaius’ torso, and the bruises on his face. Once Tiergan was satisfied, he leaned back, seated on the ground between the Keeper’s open thighs. Resting an arm upon Zaius’ uninjured thigh, he smiled with mixed emotion. “There are better options for fighting than one of the most dangerous Garlean agents operating in Eorzea - you know.”

“...No, not really.” Zaius said with a grin. “She’s unique, ah’ra. You should know that.” Tiergan let out a wistful sigh, nodding his head. Twelve, he’d have killed to see the battle. “Yeah, I know.”

"Don't worry. I'm pretty sure there's going to be a rematch. And sooner than Sophia thinks," he said, and grinned savagely. His eyes gleamed, and Tiergan at once knew that he had a secret. One that he'd probably share.

“Oh?”  Tiergan leaned in, reaching out to brush some of the Keeper’s midnight black hair from wild golden eyes. That dancing-mad stare was both beautiful and terrifying. “And just what do you have in mind, ral’ha?” In response, Zaius nodded his chin upwards and towards the stairs. "Go have a look. Under my bed. I think you'll be amused."

Quirking a brow, but willing to humor the other man nonetheless, Tiergan got to his feet and made his way back up the stairs to the Keeper’s bedroom. When he returned, the snow-haired miqo’te was carrying a large two-handed gun, intricate in design and obviously Garlean in origin. Tiergan’s looked to Zaius in wide-eyed question, but somehow, he felt like he already knew the answer.  The Keeper had a smug look on his face, and his gaze was nothing but elated with the promise of what was to come.

"I have her gun."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Later that evening, as Sophia was moving through letters and notes from her various contacts and suppliers, one letter, unsigned despite its obvious writer, stood out sharply. The words on it were simple and to the point.