[These two aren’t at their most graceful, so it’s hard to judge them, really. When Aranea leans forward, Markus doesn’t seem to care, and a hand presses against his lower side, indicating where the bullet pierced through.]
No. I was brought here by—
[Oh, someone’s dropping by to tell her to stay in bed, and Markus’ sentence trails off accordingly, frowning.]
[ It takes considerable manuevering to get her back into place. Yes, the volunteer does have to help her. By, uh, lifting up her leg because she certainly can't do it herself by now.
By the time she's re-situated, Aranea looks a bit more miserable. ]
[The both of them, miserable and a little pathetic-looking, but at least misery likes its company. Markus would rather spend these passing minutes with a familiar face than to be met with only the chaos and swirling noise of a harried safehouse once more.]
Connor. [Connor, and his worried look, the panicked anxiety that Markus had burdened him with, being so injured.] Someone from my world.
[Well. It’s more (much more) complicated than that, but in a pinch, it’s a fair summation.]
[ Flopping flat on her back, Aranea blinks up at him with (admittedly tired) interest. There's a faint glint of something in his tone - something she can suss out, heard before, never had in her own voice - and her mouth curls up in a faint grin. A sluggish thing, but not disingenuous. Cute.
And it's probably for the best, to keep her from embarrassing herself later, hitting on Markus via anatomically inappropriate compliments. ]
's nice you had so many people looking out for you.
Right... we've always been able to look after each other since we arrived here. We…
[Aranea looks like she has the right idea, lying down, resting. Despite his stubborn nature, his want to wander around and help where he can, it’s starting to seem more and more like a… viable option. He shifts a little, cot springs squeaking.]
It’s expected for us to help each other. I imagine it’s the same with anyone from your world.
[ Her brow creases a little, but it's more to do with the pain than the subject matter. ]
The guys... They've got their own shit to deal with.
[ Noctis, obviously. He's still figuring himself out. His retainers are no less pathless, held together only by him. There's also a certain chancellor - her employer, once - but. Least said about that, the better. Ardyn's antagonism is given with both hands open and fangs bared, an uncomfortable dichotomy, and she's in no hurry to announce their previous professional relationship.
A huff, to distract. ]
Honestly, they're annoying. Always some drama, way up there. [ Up, in the lofty place of kings and gods. Not somewhere she goes or wants to go. ] They missed everything falling apart down below...
[ Something Markus may have noticed that Aranea did not: a helpful medic stopping by and giving her a quick injection of morphine - at the bicep, in, out. It's telegraphed by her words slowing just a little, a skein of honesty woven through bare and plain words, the pained lines smoothing themselves out from her face.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
No. I was brought here by—
[Oh, someone’s dropping by to tell her to stay in bed, and Markus’ sentence trails off accordingly, frowning.]
no subject
By the time she's re-situated, Aranea looks a bit more miserable. ]
By?
no subject
Connor. [Connor, and his worried look, the panicked anxiety that Markus had burdened him with, being so injured.] Someone from my world.
[Well. It’s more (much more) complicated than that, but in a pinch, it’s a fair summation.]
no subject
And it's probably for the best, to keep her from embarrassing herself later, hitting on Markus via anatomically inappropriate compliments. ]
's nice you had so many people looking out for you.
this thread got surprise sad now wow
[Aranea looks like she has the right idea, lying down, resting. Despite his stubborn nature, his want to wander around and help where he can, it’s starting to seem more and more like a… viable option. He shifts a little, cot springs squeaking.]
It’s expected for us to help each other. I imagine it’s the same with anyone from your world.
cry, markus
[ Her brow creases a little, but it's more to do with the pain than the subject matter. ]
The guys... They've got their own shit to deal with.
[ Noctis, obviously. He's still figuring himself out. His retainers are no less pathless, held together only by him. There's also a certain chancellor - her employer, once - but. Least said about that, the better. Ardyn's antagonism is given with both hands open and fangs bared, an uncomfortable dichotomy, and she's in no hurry to announce their previous professional relationship.
A huff, to distract. ]
Honestly, they're annoying. Always some drama, way up there. [ Up, in the lofty place of kings and gods. Not somewhere she goes or wants to go. ] They missed everything falling apart down below...
[ Something Markus may have noticed that Aranea did not: a helpful medic stopping by and giving her a quick injection of morphine - at the bicep, in, out. It's telegraphed by her words slowing just a little, a skein of honesty woven through bare and plain words, the pained lines smoothing themselves out from her face.
She tries to stifle a yawn, and can't. ]