gurabad | 158 » it's the house telling you to close your eyes

158 » it's the house telling you to close your eyes

[It's a lovely afternoon in Sumeru City.

Ordinarily, the heat of the day hits its peak at a time like this. Vendors close up their stalls for a break from the sun and humidity; students hunker down in a dark corner of the Akademiya library or cluster together at a restaurant's table over cold drinks and something spicy, because an Akademiya student is always a little predisposed to inviting his own suffering. Sometimes, with the weather at its most contrary, a horrifically humid afternoon becomes a shower becomes a downpour, sending visitors and residents alike scuttling under awnings and into buildings.

Today that rain came early in the morning. Its passing gave the winding streets of the city (the roots of their edifice of knowledge, just as the Great Tree's roots support its trunk and branches) a fresh-washed shine and took enough heaviness from the air to make the afternoon pleasant. Anyone with a moment of free time would be a fool not to enjoy it.

So Kaveh's inside.

When he must be "home" at Alhaitham's - especially when Alhaitham himself is not home, when he is the only soul behind the door - he tries not to make a ruckus. Muttering to himself about his latest designs is fine, but loudly debating the merits of this roof line or that style of brick is not. Someone might overhear. And what business would a renowned architect have in the home of the Akademiya Scribe alone?

He's not even fighting with himself over architectural nuance today. In fact, anyone deliberately approaching the door (he is not. As a rule. Expecting anyone. No deliveries, no requests, no one even knows how to find him here, probably? Probably. Okay, some people know how to find him here, but he hates that and they don't bear thinking about) will hear...complaining. To Mehrak, theoretically, but who can say whether the automated case is really listening?

When someone knocks on the door?

He goes very, very still. Silent. Holding his breath.

Mehrak beeps in the worst possible friendly manner. Kaveh shouts and then puts a hand over his mouth. Thus kept from further incriminating noise, he sidles up to the door to peek out the window and hopefully miss the notice of ... whoever is out there.

(His heart is racing about it. Is it a student? Someone who was there this morning-? It's not Alhaitham, he has a key, but if someone else from the Akademiya followed him here or-)

Oh.

It's Aether.]

Uh.

[Well if that didn't give it away. Kaveh pulls the door open very slightly and peeks out.]

Alhaitham's not in.

[He sounds a little affronted by this. As if it's a personal insult.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ If one of the neighbors sees Aether on the steps of the former Grand Sage's home, they might think, Huh. And then, maybe: Wouldn't he be at work around this time of day? And then, most likely: Eh, whatever, and then they'd forget about it.

This is assuming that they even know that the well-kept mansion on the first terrace leading up towards the Akademiya belongs to Alhaitham. Aether imagines that the man would not want that to be public knowledge. Anyway, the traveler's presence in the area isn't unusual, though his memorable golden braid and fine clothing might be. He's actually in the neighborhood somewhat often. Most people probably haven't noticed that the traveler has an unofficial residence in the Homayani rental property down the road, but some few in Sumeru have probably seen him going in there at night, and might know that he occasionally lives there.

The rain from the early morning has settled, making the weather feel seductively cool and dry for the rainforest, and Aether's in a good mood. It might be nice to take Kaveh out for a walk, if he's amenable to one (there is something about the man that makes Aether plan around him not unlike looking after a golden retriever).

Then he knocks, and there's a friendly beep-boop! and a yelp and an awkward silence.

Um...

Aether only tilts his head at the slightly sulky response waiting for him behind the door. ]

I know that, silly. I'm here for you.

[ Silly is kind of a — well, a weirdly intimate thing to call Kaveh, but Aether actually meant to call him by name, there; he stopped himself short because he remembered that Kaveh doesn't want anyone to know that he lives in Alhaitham's house. And, really, Aether thinks that the architect makes his life much too complicated, but his secrets are his own to keep, and all Aether really does is the best he can to respect them. ]

Madam Faruzan said you left some tools with her, but she couldn't track you down to have them returned to you. I told her I'd get them to you. Will you let me in?

[ He lowers his voice to a whisper. ]

Beep-boop.

[ That's for Mehrak. Hello, Mehrak! ]

Edited 2023-09-08 16:08 (UTC)

[Think fast, Kaveh.

Only half of his face is visible through the crack in the door, so the effect of his eyes narrowing and then widening at Aether's address is sort of ruined. By the door. By Kaveh's reluctance to do more than lean into the gap and frown.]

You can just leave them on the doorstep then. [He's forcing himself to sound busy and bothered. It's the first thing he thought of.] I'll get them when I can. It's not supposed to rain again today.

[Mehrak isn't a construct with the same sort of sentience as, say, that crab thing that he spotted following Tighnari around the last time he was in the city for a lecture. Nevertheless, it's beeping and bipping, responding to Aether and/or scolding Kaveh for his curtness as only an automated case can. Not for the first time, he's glad he didn't build in a language module. Imagine living with two of Alhaitham's level of blunt opinions.

He tries to shut the door.

He can't just shut the door on Aether like that. The man's never been anything other than nice to him. Came to his aid in the desert. Emphatically doesn't just throw his judgments all over the place like so many unshelved books. So his own unwillingness to be rude to such a person stops him from turning his back.

Sometimes he's still very much an Akademiya student.]

Or...bring them around to the back?

[ Aether assesses the situation very quickly, and then he does a curious thing: he puts his hand on the doorframe, very casually, as if simply leaning on it.

The effect is that if Kaveh wants to shut the door on him, he's going to have to crush the traveler's fingers, and Aether knows he isn't going to do that. ]

I can bring them around to the back, sure... but why don't you just let me in through the front door?

[ What is it that Kaveh doesn't want him to see? Bedhead? No clothes? A disaster zone in the kitchen? Now Aether's curiosity is riled. He can be a little amoral when his curiosity is riled. ]

No one's looking at us right now. And it's going to look weirder if I enter Alhaitham's house through the back door rather than the front.

[ Your move, buddy. ]

[Damn it.

Of course Aether wouldn't just take "no" for an answer. He knows better than that. He knows better than that.

Kaveh heaves a sigh and, in one motion, pulls the door open and whirls around, stalking off into the kitchen. A terse but (hopefully) not too sour "come in then" follows him down the short hall.

Nothing seems amiss in the house. It's cluttered, as it has always been, and Kaveh will be the first to chime in on how certain aspects are horribly mismatched to the overall design and flow of the place. There are books everywhere, but no surface is left unusable because of them; on the table near the divan is a pile of sketches that are clearly Kaveh's. Down the hall, the door to his room stands ajar; Alhaitham's is shut.

The chipper little ceramic bowl near the door has exactly zero keys in it.

Kaveh went immediately to the kitchen; his back is to Aether as he stiffly pulls things out of cupboards and drawers, and fills a brass kettle with water.]

For tea. [Aether didn't need to ask; Mehrak's series of beeps was enough.] I'm showing our guest proper hospitality.

[Never mind that no one asked for refreshment and that Aether himself said he's just here dropping something off. That the whole transaction could have been over and done with. Kaveh knows he's acting weird.

It's too late now.]

You can put the things Madam Faruzan borrowed anywhere you'd like. I'll put them away later.

[He glances very quickly over his shoulder at Aether, nods once, and goes back to being too focused on loose leaf tea.]

[ The gambit works and Kaveh lets him in, but not without a good deal of sulking and sort of stomping off towards the kitchen. Aether's at a little bit of a loss. Nothing stands out as the trigger for Kaveh's temper here; there's no destroyed project in the living room, no toppled-over pile of books that would suggest some other calamity has befallen the architect.

There are no keys in the bowl and Aether wonders if it's about that again. He doesn't really need the tea, he thinks, if it's going to cause so much stress. ]

I'll accept the tea, but...

[ He leans on the doorframe again, this time the one by the entrance to the kitchen. ]

Kaveh, what's wrong? You're hiding something.

[ One hand, extended, in a blankly explanatory way. The bag from Madam Faruzan is still in his other hand; he hasn't set it down. They're in private, now. Trust is earned rather than won, and Aether isn't expecting Kaveh to feel very charitable towards him after the fingers thing, but theoretically, at least, the architect has more room here to unload his concerns than he did while Aether was standing on the front porch. ]

You don't have to accept my help, but I'd offer it, if it's something I can help with.

[The front door is closed, of course, and it's just the two of them, and actually he hadn't had his mind on the keys at all - on a different day he probably would have left on that walk with Aether and forgotten all about it until he couldn't get back inside hours later.

And he's been kind of awful in the last few minutes. And all Aether thought to do with that information was ask what's wrong. He hates the idea that he might need help (and doesn't believe he needs it, moreover) percolating in anyone's mind.

But. He can admit to himself that Aether has his heart in the right place.

Kaveh stops. Takes in and lets out a quick breath.]

It isn't something you can help with. [Maybe, on some level, it also hadn't occurred to Kaveh to consider whether Aether knows anything about it at all. In the constant background churning of his thoughts, it's been nothing but gossip since he fled the library last night as the rain started to pick up.] I just...it isn't a big deal.

[Some of the false bravado drops from his shoulders and Kaveh turns all the way around. The half of his face he has so inexpertly tried to hide from Aether is crowned by a very impressive and colorful black eye. He even undid a bit of his hair to try to keep it from being too noticeable. So the effect is more "definitely trying not to be noticed" than anything.

Beep-boop.]

I...didn't want to be seen like this. That's all.

[ Aether's eyes widen.

He stays stone still.

His first thought is that some argument with Alhaitham went terribly wrong, but no, no — that's not very charitable to Alhaitham, and anyway, the Scribe does not resort to violence except when violence is the only option. He also does not generally go for inelegant motions like thrown punches; Aether still vividly recalls the neat way he disarmed that berserk mercenary with an elbow to the temple. So then... what exactly...? ]

...How did that happen?

[ Mehrak hovers by Kaveh's head, making a sad face. Beep-boop... ]

[This is exactly what Kaveh hoped to avoid. Aether didn't wince out of pity, which would be far worse, but the way he's standing and looking at Kaveh now tells a pretty good story about what he thinks might have happened.]

I fell.

[He'd feel funny about not giving the proper explanation its due. Aether won't believe it - Kaveh wouldn't either - and he doesn't let it hang in the air for very long before sighing and trying again.]

After I left Madam Faruzan's yesterday, I stopped by the library to pick up a few books for a project I want to work on.

[All his efforts at putting together tea-and-snacks are completely forgotten. Fortunately, he hadn't reached the point of turning on any heat.]

It took a while to find what I was looking for. A couple of students were there, and they got into an argument. Kshahrewar and Rtawahist, I think. It was getting heated, and it was a ridiculous argument to have in the library, so I...tried to stop them.

[He lets that hang for a minute, too. Because that's the part that sounds the best, and it isn't even that good. It simply pales in comparison to the stupidity of the rest of it. Even if he explains that he feels responsible on account of his Darshan, or that the argument itself started to turn memories into bile in his throat, it isn't going to make the next part better.

Kaveh winces for himself in the telling.]

I didn't make it that far. Tripped on something left in the aisle. The table I landed on broke and a book from the pile on top of it did this.

[If he sounds angry, it's only with himself, and the gesture he makes toward his face is a little sharp, a little furious. A little "no one can ever know about this".

Kaveh looks down at his hands, where they've come to grip the countertop.]

Oh, Kaveh...

[ The architect surely doesn't want pity, but Aether isn't capable of hiding his sad concern at this point in time. He looks nearly as worried as Mehrak's line-eyes allow it to look. Did the students stop arguing? he wonders, but he doesn't want Kaveh to have to wallow in his memory of the incident longer than necessary. Maybe they did, but only because they all turned at him to gape at the sight of the Light of Kshahrewar... flat on his face in the middle of a broken table.

Just little Kaveh things... ]

Have you put some ice on it? You — [ Well, no, he probably hasn't. Layla's not around, and all. Not too many places to get cold ice in Sumeru outside of a Vision user, for that matter, but Aether has his ways. ] Never mind. Will you let me fix the tea? I'll make you an ice pack, too.

[ How's he going to make that ice pack? Look, he's got four hundred Mist Flower Corollas in his back pocket. They may as well be used for something. ]

Ice? No. Cold water, while I was trying to fall asleep.

[He got the cloth he used as cold as he could. Kaveh doesn't want to admit the truth about how little sleep he ended up getting, either. He breathes out, releases the counter, and steels himself for looking Aether in the eye, knowing he will find pity there and he will hate it and-

Strangely, that looks more like...sadness? Concern, but...maybe...maybe that's all.

Of course, it could be that only one of his eyes is really functioning at the moment.]

You don't need to do that.

[But he has already given up that fight. Kaveh feels like he's been caught dipping his fingers into the sauce before it's served, and now there's nothing for it but to face the consequences. "Consequences", in this case, meaning "accept the traveler's kind offer to make the tea instead".

Still. Who is he if he doesn't try?]

The tea was for you, anyway, so you're welcome to make it if you still want it. I didn't exactly ask.

[Now he feels bad for the harsh welcome he gave Aether. He can't take it back. He can vacate the kitchen, and so he does, with Mehrak still hovering nearby, displaying worry.]

I'll make it. Go lie down.

[ Well — Kaveh doesn't have to lie down so much as sprawl across one of those nice divans with his favorite... um, whatever he thinks he can handle with one eye bruised and swollen. Either way, Aether will handle the kitchen work.

He leaves the tea for a moment, packaging ice-cold Mist Flowers and water into a poultice of sorts — "put this on your eye," he murmurs quietly to Kaveh before departing for the kitchen again — before he sets about making some desserts for the both of them to have over the tea, too. He's guilty of using his elemental powers to hasten things a bit.

The thing he comes up with? A strawberry cake parfait, the sort of thing that's popular in Mondstadt. Kaveh said he likes fruits and cream. This should be just the ticket, and anyway, Aether can't think of a single person he knows who could manage to be sad with cake in their mouth.

After a few minutes, Aether comes out of the kitchen balancing their warm chai and sweet parfaits on an unusually fancy tea tray — Aether supposes it must be Kaveh's and not Alhaitham's. He sets it down in front of the man. If he has more cake than chai, he'll be forgiven — the parfaits are a little irresistible. ]

Have something sweet. Paimon always feels better after she's had something sweet.

[There are days when Kaveh will do almost anything not to 'do as he's told', let's say. Today started out as one of those. Now that he's been found out, by what might be the best possible person who could find out, Kaveh feels...defeated. Aether doesn't leave any room for refuting his certainty.

A little slumped, Kaveh retreats to the divan and resolutely does not lie down. He gracefully accepts Aether's ingenious ice pack, thanking him and apologizing in the same breath.

(It's blessedly cold. Archons. It doesn't feel wonderful but it does feel like relief, and after a minute some of the constant ache dulls away and Kaveh thinks he can think again.)

When the tea and surprise sweets are ready and Aether comes back, he finds Kaveh very much sitting up, a pen in one hand and the ice pack held firmly over his black eye with the other. He's pulled over the sketches from the table and he's making notes on them, glancing every now and again over at where Mehrak is displaying some parameters for him. Even for someone without a degree in architecture, it should be recognizably simple. Table-like. Kaveh refuses to give in to a full-fledged mope-around.

The fancy tray lands on top of one of his (earlier, set aside) sketches and Kaveh startles a little, sits back. He's...he's not so pathetic as consolation cake, is he? Maybe he is. Sitting here, sore and tired, with Aether just...just plain being so nice to him, that's contributing to, or maybe just uncovering, the pathetic feeling.

The sweet smells delicious and the chai divine and he could, if he were a different sort of person, kiss Aether right now. If he weren't so overwrought about needing the help at all.]

Thanks.

[He already said it once, but it's just as sincere the second time. His good eye blinks fairly quickly. He puts down the pen to pick up his spoon first. A bite of something sweet, as requested. As with most other things, his immediate reaction to the flavor gives away his heart: a wide eye and another bite, larger this time.]

This is good enough to make me ignore how you're comparing me to Paimon.

[He doesn't want to feel like smiling or like being stubborn. He's trying to cover both in just tasting the strawberry, and he is failing.]

I'm not comparing you to Paimon. i just think she's got the right view on life, sometimes.

[ Aether is, himself, not the kind of person whose problems can necessarily be cured with sleep, sun, and cake. Still, he thinks she has the right ideas, most of the time. Most problems can be cured with sleep, sun, and cake.

It doesn't have to be consolation cake, and Kaveh doesn't have to feel pathetic.

Sitting down, Aether pours himself some tea and blows on it gently before he has a sip. It's spicy, woodsy, and warm. He sets the teacup down. He picks up his own helping of parfait. He is definitely going to have more parfait than tea, himself. All the better to encourage Kaveh to have more, frankly. ]

You're trying to fix the table?

[ No judgment in it. He's just looking at the sketch, that's all. Maybe Kaveh needs wood. Maybe this is the kind of quest he can settle by handing over three crisp logs of Adhigama Wood. ]

[Kaveh briefly sets his ice pack down, in order to pour himself some tea as well (with milk, what kind of person doesn't take milk in their chai?) but he only needs one hand to drink the stuff. And it's sort of nice not to have to fight with himself about whether to try to keep his eye closed or open.

Aether did a spectacular job with the food. ...Perhaps that also has to do with Paimon.]

I'm trying to replace the table.

[On a personal level, he broke it, so he feels it's his responsibility to set things right. He could have watched his step instead of already thinking about things to say to defuse an argument.]

When I try to be objective about it, all I can think is that I'm probably not the first person this has happened to. If we're lucky I'll be the last, but what if there were tables with a sturdier design?

[He dismisses Mehrak's display - no work while they're eating - and the case's exterior lights at least no longer show digital sadness.]

So I'm not just trying to fix it. I could fix it without all this work, the basic blueprints and standard materials list are freely available in the library. I want to improve it.

[He has some more parfait, thoughtfully. With each bite, the thoughts tilt far more toward "this really is good", but he'll never have his mind fully off tables.]

As...much as anyone can improve a regular table.

[ Aether is kind enough to not stare at the blotchy blue patch blossoming over Kaveh's eye, marring his fine features. He stares at Kaveh's hands delicately handling the parfait instead, and then at his own helping of the dessert. He helps himself to a bite.

The traveler can't claim to have any proficiency with furniture design, despite the number of tables he's constructed for his own Serenitea Pot — in those cases, he's just following along with some recipe he's found out in the wilderness, and Tubby helps make the process much easier on him, too. As such, though he himself has no rules against working while eating, he's not really in a position to help Kaveh with the work side of what's bothering him — not unless all Kaveh needs is someone to listen to him, anyway. ]

So you want to protect everyone who might ever be injured by that table.

[ A low sigh — one that would sound much more grizzled with resignation if it were not maneuvering around a mouthful of cream and cake. ]

It's a noble endeavor. I just worry you take too much on yourself.

Edited 2023-09-26 22:44 (UTC)

[Kaveh pulls a face.]

It sounds really extreme when you phrase it like that.

[The ideal would be that no one at all has occasion to fall upon a table. Life is simply easier without that as a concern.]

But I'm the one who broke it, so I feel like I at least owe them a replacement. Why not make something better than it was?

[But his face aches, again, and he sighs and sits back with his chai and his ice, good eye also closed.]

Thinking about that was better than waiting around for Alhaitham to find out and lecture me about my mistakes.

[At this point, he feels that lecture is inevitable. Accident or not, he would have been better served by watching where he was going. He can practically hear the tone and word choice already. It is exhausting.]

[ The traveler doesn't often laugh out loud, but he can't help but chortle silently at Kaveh's pulled face. Well, yes, Aether was exaggerating a little bit — but he's not wrong, no? Kaveh is out here trying to protect future Akademiya students from the horrors of flimsy tables. ]

You shouldn't have to live your life waiting for him to snap at you over things.

[ It probably wouldn't be a lecture, Aether reflects — but the two or three sentences that Alhaitham might cook up to specifically mock Kaveh for such an event would probably feel like a lecture to the architect, so there's no point lingering on it. ]

I'm not trying to discourage you from doing it. It is extreme, though. Most people wouldn't bother replacing the furniture at their alma mater.

[ The Akademiya is a little special, of course, given that Kaveh still teaches there occasionally... ]

You're not "most people," though, and you should be proud of that.

[Kaveh is on the precipice of another (undeserved, but it's a matter of time) lambaste of Alhaitham, while his hands trade chai for parfait and he sits up to try not to make a mess of anything, but Aether ends that train of thought with a wall of genuine praise.

For the first time all afternoon, he stops and looks at the traveler.]

Thanks. Thank you.

[He knows Aether's right, especially if they're talking about architecture and design. But here he is, hunched over on the divan with his spoon stuck in the parfait, turning pink anyway.]

But maybe I am getting a little carried away about it. [Kaveh nods at Aether, smiles, and flinches.] I really appreciate you doing all this for me even after I went off on you for coming in. Here I am acting like an ass and it gets rewarded with dessert. Which is delicious, if I haven't mentioned already.

[For emphasis, he takes another spoonful. Then he sets everything down, picks his ice pack back up, and leans back again. Trying to find a comfortable position for sitting is harder than he thought.]

Is it a secret recipe, or one you're willing to share?

[Though he tries, he can't keep the strain out of his voice entirely. Taking the time to sit and relax has brought to light, in his thoughts, that it's probably all the soreness putting him in a bad mood. Aether deserves better than that.]

[ There's a moment there, and Aether can feel it too: he's finally being seen, instead of merely looked at. Which wasn't something that he was holding against Kaveh. The architect is just like that, Aether has gathered; he has a tendency to look through people, his brilliant mind constantly thinking in terms of problems and solutions, but blinded to the elements that contribute to those things.

And Aether wasn't sitting there, steeped in resentment over it, not by any means — but he blinks when he realizes that Kaveh's carnelian eyes are finally focused on his own, and then he smiles faintly, tipping his head to one side in approving acknowledgement. Understanding, too.

It is a little nice to be seen. He can admit that. That it's nice to be seen. ]

I can teach you how to make it one day, if you have the time.

[ The important thing, he reminds himself, isn't his ego, but making sure Kaveh doesn't get himself into any more trouble than he needs to be in.

Aether's about to say more, but then... he tips his head to the other side, quizzical as a puppy trying to work out some new challenge. Something about Kaveh's movements don't feel right.

Then it clicks. ]

...Kaveh.

[ It's a little mean to lay into the architect's slightly anxious side, and Aether knows it, but he lets the implicit warning in his tone sit for just one second longer than he has to. ]

You're a little more injured than you're letting on, huh?

[He gets away with a lot of hiding through the ability to turn his gaze inward, to problems and solutions. If he averts his eyes, surely the worst things can't see him, either. Perhaps it's common to prolific artists. Refuge in falsified security. An imagined curtain to duck behind; a convenient issue to fix, so the spotlight doesn't linger on his shortcomings for too long.

But he also sweeps it all under the furniture for the benefit of others. His concerns are his; their concerns are also his, and when he isn't aching and embarrassed, he prefers to see his friends' worries handled.

It's harder when those worries are. Well. Him.

Kaveh cringes again, because this specific way of calling him out is just...it stings, whether or not he deserves it. He turns his head toward Aether nonetheless, so he can face the music with his good eye open.]

Maybe just a little. But it's not serious, it's nothing to worry about.

[He's quick to reassure Aether for Aether's sake, not for his. Kaveh likes to think that if he was really hurt, he would do something productive about it. There's no sense in letting serious injuries sit untreated.]

I've been trying to just take it easy around the house.

[Mehrak beeps in something like agreement, but the sounds are still morose.]

While I'd love to say that's why I didn't go back to Madam Faruzan's myself...the truth is I forgot about it entirely.

It's okay. I'll bring her the tools she needed, and apologize to her on your behalf. She won't have to know what happened.

[ Aether's quick to reassure Kaveh, in turn. Maybe the traveler has the wrong idea about Kaveh, in that the man's reputation doesn't necessarily have to be the most important thing in the world to him, and it might not be what he's worried about in the moment — but it seems like a good thing to reassure him of, in any case.

Mehrak floats closer to Aether's head, and the traveler nods to it in acknowledgement. Beep-boop. ]

Um — is it too weird if —

[ Seized by a slightly uncharacteristic awkwardness, Aether mimes pulling his own shirt open; the effect is slightly too cute because of the way he curls his wrists, and he looks a bit like he's pretending to be a cat instead. Still, Kaveh will... probably understand the gesture...? ]

Do you mind if I take a look?

Are you sure?

[Not that he doubts Aether's sincerity - no, on the contrary, he can't think of Aether as anything less than smartly sincere in all of his dealings. The initial impression of earnest kindness has simply stuck around, never to fully clear its cobwebs from Kaveh's dusty corners.

The problem is both simpler and more complex.]

I looked at it earlier and it's...I won't lie, it looks ugly. [As he says this, he hesitantly undoes a clasp and a knot and a fold.] But! But that's all it is. Just appearances. Okay?

[Between his words and his hesitation Kaveh juggles the certainty that Aether will not believe this. That he will be painted a liar, even when he himself is sure he's telling the truth.

The combined forces of Aether's sweet awkward hand gestures and the insistence in his gaze overpower the juggler. Kaveh swallows and carefully lifts the hem of his shirt. He is, as it happens, right on both counts: the dark bruise spread up his side looks horrible. Purple and splotchy and angry. And it is, at the end of the day, just that - a shiner for his ribcage, to match the one on his face.

Kaveh holds up the fabric of his shirt for as long as Aether seems to want to make his inspection, grimacing all the while. (To add insult to literal injury, Mehrak's beeps have become a very fast clicking noise instead.)]

My hip looks like this, too, but you'll have to forgive me for not. [He motions quickly with one hand to the rest of him, dismissively.] I know what it looks like. I know. All I planned to do was take it easy for a few days and not let this get in anyone else's way.

[ Aether is making a face.

It's not a judgmental face, at least — just a very worried one, a very concerned one. The bruise along Kaveh's side does look quite bad, promising damaged tissue all the way down to deep muscle, and Aether believes him when he says that his hip is probably mottled blue in the same way.

Some people are tempted to touch injuries, as if inspection cannot be completed without testing the effects of pain upon the patient — Aether, mercifully, has the good sense to leave well enough alone without touching Kaveh's skin. After a moment of carefully looking at the pattern of bruising on the architect's body, Aether pulls back, evidently satisfied by his inspection, and sighs. ]

It's not about what it looks like, or getting in anyone's way...

[ ...Though Aether understands. He understands in that he sometimes thinks about himself in the same terms, too, but the key difference between himself and Kaveh is that he has more confidence in himself as the solution to other peoples' problems. More confidence in himself in general, too, really.

He rises to his feet, putting his half-finished parfait to one side. It's not the type of dessert that will melt in Sumeru's humid heat, at least. ]

...There's a type of berry from Mondstadt that has mild anesthetic and analgesic qualities — Wolfberries, have you heard of them?

[ Kaveh's done some work alongside Amurta scholars, so maybe he's stumbled across a few relevant articles. Or maybe this is completely foreign. ]

I can use some to make you an ointment to put on that bruise. Won't take a minute.

[Kaveh was braced for Aether to try touching it.

When the touch and subsequent burst of pain never come, he's left blinking rather owlishly on one side. ...He's really just looking. He doesn't even make the attempt and then pull back or anything. Looking worried, which was the other thing turning Kaveh's patience into a cringe, but. Only looking.

So it takes a minute. The confusion melts into wavering gratitude and then into "oh, wait, he asked me a question," a confusion of another flavor. Kaveh lets his shirt drop again to cover his offending miscalculations.]

No- no. I haven't heard of them. I think.

[There's something tapping the door at the back of his brain about them. A tea, maybe? Or a syrup that you...put in tea, but it's medicine? Huh. But, that might not even be the right berry, and anyway Aether isn't talking about a drink.]

I want to tell you not to go to all that trouble.

[His tone and pitch have softened considerably from the way he was when Aether first knocked. It isn't quite as low as a whisper, but it's heavy with the kind of disbelief that roots itself in a personality like Kaveh's and never really dies off, even without water or sunlight.]

Somehow...I don't think I'd win that argument, though.

[To an extent, he thinks he should live with the consequences of his own inattentiveness. But Aether pulled no punches yet has managed to make him feel like he ought to want to be...looked-after. Like saying yes will be the thing that makes the most sense and does the most good. The traveler wants to do this, or he wouldn't have offered?

Even when he's deep in thought over his next big design, Kaveh is rarely this still.]

I'm willing to give it a try.

[ Pleased, Aether can't help but flash Kaveh a smile — one, because he knows he's rather handsome when he's smirking like a cat that's got the canary, and two, because he's gotten the impression that Kaveh feels rewarded by positive attention, and in a calculated way, Aether has started to think that a little bit of affection will probably go a long way in convincing him to do certain things. ]

Good. Because you're right — you wouldn't win that argument. Even Alhaitham can't stop me when I've got something I know I need to do, you know.

[ With a gusto that could rival even Paimon's — he somehow still manages to look more elegant than her while doing it, though — Aether quickly scrapes the last of his parfait out of its little glass cup, then sets it aside for the moment, hoisting himself up with both hands on his thighs like a veteran fishmonger around fifty years of age who's just decided to welp his way towards the day's catch. (He's like that, sometimes — sweet-faced and youthful in his features, witty and straightforward in his speech, but for anyone with the eyes to see it, he sort of acts like an old man, in the subtlest ways.)

He rises to his feet. ]

Let me go make you that ointment. No need to move or worry about the dishes. I'll be back.

[ So saying, he moves back to the kitchen again, leaving Kaveh with his parfait on the couch. At least for the moment.

The subtle little sounds of Aether busying himself over the stove soon start to fill the air. Maybe Kaveh will think, either bitterly or fondly, of home. ]

Edited 2024-01-07 02:08 (UTC)

[It's because Aether walked a tenuous line between coddling and leaving it be that Kaveh is willing to give in at all. It can't be an inconvenience for him, and it can't be a pity move on Kaveh's behalf either.

He doesn't have time to sulk or huff in reply about Alhaitham before Aether has moved to the kitchen. A sigh escapes him; he hunches over a bit again, which is no more comfortable than any other thing, and works on finishing his own parfait. He very much wants to take those empty dishes in and clean them, clear the space, not leave a mess behind for anyone else to find and deal with...

Mehrak drifts into the kitchen; it beeps at Aether periodically with no particular amount of commitment.

By the time the traveler returns to the sitting area, Kaveh's lying down, one arm over his face (carefully), which conveniently holds the ice pack over his eye. He's not asleep; when he hears Aether coming closer he'll sit up again, slowly.

(He did try. The two glasses are stacked and their spoons rest within the top one and he...gave in, and that stings. So he lay there and listened and drifted in thoughts of the past.)]

Did you...find everything you needed?

[ Mehrak beeps to herald their arrival as Aether returns to the seating area where Kaveh's been resting. There's a clay pot filled with a purple something that must be the Wolfhook berry ointment that he was talking about earlier; for all that purple is not commonly associated with healing properties, though, it does sort of look like something that might make Kaveh feel better.

The brown bowl is big enough that Aether is using both hands to carry it for safety, but this is partially just because he has small hands. Carefully, he sets it on the table beside the stacked glasses with their spoons in them. ]

Yes, it was fine. I just needed something to use as a pestle and mortar.

[ He's also brought in a wet washcloth. Mehrak hovers around his head as he uses this to clean his hands in a way where Kaveh can clearly see him cleaning them; he washed his hands in the sink, too, when he was making the ointment.

Aether's tone is perfectly clinical and free of judgments as he says: ]

Can you take your clothes off so I can access the bruise? [ No pause, no hesitation: ] I won't look. You can use that throw blanket to cover yourself up if you need to take your pants off.

[ Well, that's not necessarily what Alhaitham keeps the throw blankets around for, but then, this is Kaveh's house too, and actually, maybe he was the one who bought the throw blankets to begin with... ]

[Kaveh's good eye widens visibly and he makes a sort of cough sound, something like if an inhale and an exhale both tried to happen at once. What a request! Aether clearly didn't mean anything else by it but being helpful, but the directness and the casual comment about the blanket freeze him up.]

I, uh. I can probably.

[Several fast blinks later and Kaveh deflates.

He wanted to say "I can probably do it myself if you show me what to do." He wanted to push back against the state of himself enough - and anyway, he's not calling Aether back to the house to do this again? If it hurts later? Kaveh is perfectly capable of taking care of himself!

Whatever that gentle emotion is in Aether's eyes, though. It keeps him where he is, and it doesn't let his shoulders droop too far.

Kaveh pulls the blanket over himself.

It's slow going, both because he's trying not to lose said blanket and because it hurts to move around, but eventually he has pulled up the shirt and shifted enough other clothing out of the way that Aether should be able to see the full extent of the damage.

Kaveh is not blushing, or anything else that might suggest he's embarrassed, and truly, he isn't. Embarrassed isn't the right word for this at all.]

How long will this medicine of yours last?

[ Aether is not oblivious — indeed, if anything, he's much too alert about most situations around him — so of course he's perfectly aware that the startled sound that emerged from Kaveh's throat was not an expression of comfort and ease. Of course he knows that he's making Kaveh uncomfortable. The thing about Kaveh, though, is that he's just the sort of person who needs to be pushed out of his comfort zones, in part because his comfort zones are bad for him, and he is exceedingly poor at caring for himself. So it goes.

Once Kaveh has reoriented himself, Aether comes closer with the bowl of paste — cream? — ointment in hand. A silent snap of his fingers brings a brush to his hand; he twirls it absently between his fingers before bringing it to bear on the purple mixture in the bowl, picking up some of it on the brush's dense bristles. ]

Hmm, probably around six to eight hours, depending on your body's natural reactions. It's technically a sort of toxin, but it's perfectly safe.

[ Once he's satisfied that the bristles have an even distribution of Wolfhook paste on them, he reaches out and gently drags the soft, fluffy brush over Kaveh's mottled skin. ]

You'll probably be good at doing this yourself. It's kind of like painting.

[ Despite his cool, collected tone... there is a hint of a smile on Aether's face. He can't help it! He's having fun. ]

[It's so much easier if he just keeps his eyes closed. This is embarrassing enough without him looking at whatever judgment about his pathetic state sits on Aether's face.

After the initial flinch at the touch of the brush, it really isn't so bad; the bruised places that get the first strokes of wolfhook paste start to tingle and numb very quickly. This is the least pain he's been in since last night, and some of the tension leaves him, and he breathes easier the further in his painting Aether gets.

Soon enough he has opened his good eye for a peek at what the traveler's actually doing.

It really is just painting.]

I'm sure I can handle it. It already feels better. ...Am I supposed to lie here for hours, though?

[He wouldn't want it all to come off, and undo Aether's work - but it will also be horrifically humiliating if he's just here doing nothing, half exposed and covered in purple berry lotion, at the end of the day when the house isn't so empty anymore. He will find some other place to hide out if that's the alternative.]

[ It's just painting. Aether seems to be having a fun time with it, gently applying layers of ointment in long, patient strokes of the brush over Kaveh's skin. The question makes him laugh outright; what did poor Kaveh think Aether had in mind for him? A full evening of no walking or moving? ]

No, you'll be able to move soon. I did a little trick with alchemy in your kitchen, so it'll absorb into your skin.

[ How Aether was able to pull his little "trick" without a proper alchemy table is a question better left unanswered for now...

Serenely, Aether's eyes flick up from Kaveh's skin to Kaveh's face, though when he makes eye contact with the architect, he looks back down. It's less because he himself is nervous and more because he thinks Kaveh might erupt in fresh awkward shame if Aether subjects him to extended eye contact while brushing anesthetic over his body. ]

Are you always this uncomfortable with having people touch you?

[Kaveh just sighs.]

It's not that at all.

[Is it worth explaining? Aether might be more likely to understand what he's getting at than his other friends would - because they would all try to solve the problem in their various ways. But it isn't a problem, from Kaveh's perspective. It is a state of existence.]

It shouldn't have happened in the first place? I ought to be able to watch where I'm going. [While he's still frustrated at himself over it, he is trying not to be too grumpy out loud in Aether's direction.] And hiding out until it went away...wasn't working out the way it should have, either.

So... [ Aether speaks slowly, letting that single word hang in the air for a moment. ] Do you feel as though I shouldn't help you... because it's your own fault that it happened?

[ There's no judgment in the question, or at the very least, Aether tries to suck the judgment out of it. Keeps his tone soft. The brush continues its serene movements over Kaveh's body, spreading the blessedly numbing cream all over the bruised surface of his skin.

Aether's lashes stay lowered. ]

Help me understand.

[ But a genius like Kaveh should be able to understand the underlying issue with logic, here. ]

[The existence of the question is enough to clue Kaveh in to how likely it is that Aether thinks he's being a little ridiculous. And maybe he is. The whole situation is more than a little ridiculous, accident or not. And, now, it seems like there's no way left that he could have handled it properly, which is why he's lying here in the living room half-undressed while Aether tries to make up for the poor handling-of-it.

Kaveh breathes out - more comfortably than he has in so many hours - and closes his good eye.]

It shouldn't have ended up as anyone else's burden to figure out. That's all. [He frowns at nothing.] Definitely not yours. Not that I don't appreciate the help, because...I do. But you already spend all your time doing things for people.

[ Aether pauses thoughtfully, eyes falling on the way the hairs of his brush fan out over Kaveh's mottled skin. After a brief pause, he simply says: ]

I don't mind. I wouldn't do it if I minded.

[ It's a strange thing, being the focus of someone else's sympathy. Kaveh isn't wrong, of course: Aether does spend most of his time doing things for other people. He also isn't wrong that it can often get tiring to do that work. Still, though, Aether is not the kind of bleeding heart who can't say no to someone in need when he truly needs time to himself. If anything, he's more worried that Kaveh isn't the same way. ]

You spend all your time doing things for other people too, don't you? [ A brief, patient smile. ] You're not a burden to me or to anyone else.

[Kaveh, the exact kind of bleeding heart who can't say no to someone no matter how much he needs a break, is pretty sure Aether's fibbing a little bit. There are absolutely times when he's a burden. Some of those times arise from choices he makes; some are just circumstances. And there are people more willing to highlight his burdensome tendencies than others.

The last while has enlightened him to the futility of trying to make that point right now to Aether. It's much easier to lie here and let the man work, anyway.

Kaveh's mind starts to wander. He thinks about Madam Faruzan, the things he left with her inadvertently, the things he hasn't managed to bring back with him yet either. The book he meant to get from the library; the books scattered around this house, too haphazard on ill-chosen bookshelves and sideboards, the hallmarks of an academic mind with no sense of aesthetic...

He's drifting off. So he startles a little bit - how much time passed with him floating away like that? There's a layer of haze over his awareness as he opens his eye again and looks at Aether.]

Sorry...did you say something?

Not really.

[ It's true; he lapsed into silence. The makeshift pestle full of ointment is largely clean now, and Aether is putting his brush away. Both will be cleaned by the end of the day.

Kaveh looks comfortable where he's been laying on the couch. Aether smiles down at him, rising to his feet. ]

You're cute when you're sleepy. Wanna just rest your eyes for a bit? I'll find the stuff Faruzan wanted on my own.

[Kaveh wants to protest.

(He has a lot to do! Nothing has gotten done in here all morning. He was too sore to do things, even when he tried, which only made him madder about it. And he hardly got any sleep!)

He fights for a few moments to open his eye enough to look awake. To give Aether reason to hear his arguments - though he hasn't had a lot of success with that today no matter how awake he made himself look. The pathetic must outweigh it.

But all the traveler will hear in those arguments? Are reasons for Kaveh to stay on the couch.

He closes his mouth and his eye and sighs heavily. With some drama for effect.

(It was...he relaxed enough with Aether's help to almost fall asleep. When does that ever happen?)]

If I fall asleep, you have to wake me up again before you leave.

[He absolutely doesn't want to be found like this later.]

[ Aether really shouldn't do this — because he does remember, and hasn't forgotten, that they really don't know each other all that intimately — but Kaveh's tired face speaks volumes, despite the twists and turns of his thought process. His bruised eye says all the more whether he likes it or not. And he shouldn't do it, but Aether doesn't stop himself from acting on the impulse: he reaches out, brushes Kaveh's hair back to reveal his forehead, in a caretaker's gentle gesture. The touch of a loving mother, from a lifetime ago. ]

I can do that. I promise.

[ Aether gathers up the last of his things and walks away, then, but it's in a slow and unhurried way that suggests he isn't really going away. He's leaving the room, yes, but only to attend to those things that need doing; only to gather up the items that he came for. And then, afterward, he still might not leave. Not while Kaveh seems so sweet and distracted, in need of someone to help him. ]

...Just rest, Kaveh. I'm here to take care of everything today.

[ And tomorrow? Where will the traveler be tomorrow? Well — that depends on Kaveh himself, now doesn't it? ]

[Usually, the sounds of someone else moving around in the house set Kaveh's nerves on edge. They're the precursor to a pointed question, or a poor evaluation of some aspect of his life, or the dropping of his keys into his lap.

(Are his keys...here? This is a common idle wonder in the minutes before he sleeps.)

As much as he can, Kaveh watches Aether bustle about. It's hard, though, since he can't see much of the house from here at all, and the soothing ointment has taken the place of all his aching and allowed him to breathe. Sleep has nothing to fight it off anymore.

Kaveh says something completely unintelligible before finally giving in. Another reminder to wake him before Aether goes? Some further apology?

He looks peaceful, though, asleep under his blanket.]

[ Aether busies himself around the house for a time, quietly cleaning the implements he used to make Kaveh's ointment in the kitchen, and the bowls for the parfaits they had. He cleans the house a little, though there isn't much to clean; Kaveh must keep things quite tidy when he's well, and, er, surely Alhaitham at least cleans up after himself when he's around.

The traveler comes in to check on Kaveh a few times in between different tasks, but every time, Kaveh's eyes are firmly closed and he seems lost in the throes of sleep. Later, Aether comes in only to draw a thin sheet over his bruised frame; it trends warm in Sumeru, but one's body tends to grow cold in sleep, and the night air in the rainforest is always a little cooler after the sun sets.

He's cute, still. Even with a bruised and mottled eye. Aether brushes the architect's hair over his face to hide it, the way Kaveh had it when he was awake.

Aether stays all the day long, until Alhaitham comes home from work, and they can all get ready for dinner together, in that old familiar way. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

158 » it's the house telling you to close your eyes

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject