[ She waits for him to speak, but seeing as that he won't even guess-- she answers. Brightly, at that. ]
It means that contact... will be better use to us than any armor, or antitoxin, too!
[ Meaning that if a pair were to venture outside, it would involve a lot of hand-holding. Not that that means abandoning protective gear completely, but maybe holding hands while walking outside would mean longer scouting trips!
She laughs delightedly, airily, shaking her head. ] Ah, I feel so silly... [ The barrier is divine. The divinity here is supplied with their power through touch. It is them, the otherworlders, who provide that energy. Can they not take it with them, as they explore? ]
Certainly, the restorative nature of contact is better than anything man-made so long as they stay in the city. He has seen what the so-called healer’s touch has done to his brother, though, and is reluctant to rely overmuch on this in untested waters. Whereas she lightens the mood with laughter, he brings it back down with a pensive mien. ]
If the gods heal us for offering contact, there is no guarantee that their blessing will bear the same potency beyond the city’s borders.
[ He thinks touch is like a prayer, it delivers the energy and they receive a blessing in return automatically... Admittedly, she hadn't thought of it that way, instead only musing if the mysterious energy generated from touch itself had been a way to stave off the illness. He does have a point, though, that it won't be effective outside. ]
The gods are not holding our hands. We are holding each other's. [ Technically, they're doing a lot more than just holding hands, but she hopes her point still stands. ] It is that energy that we give to the gods, and from there they make the barrier.
I hope that... [ Settling back to the crevice that is his body, she scoots to align herself with him. A lingering shiver passes through her, her fingers briefly bunching up the fabric of his tunic on his back. ] we will be able to bring this power unique to us to create havens outside of the city, the further we explore.
[ When he feels her hand tense behind him, he responds with the brief stroke of his own on her back. All the divine strength in her palms had done nothing to stop the sickness from claiming her. The state of the world is dire, truly.
But how curious, that she would use the word haven. While the city is named after one, he's also reminded of the havens that were once strewn across Eos. ]
We will need to petition the council for an expedition, if such a thing is feasible.
[ The stroke upon her back seems to pull a bit more of the cold out of her. Where he touches her skin, she can feel the calloused texture of his fingers, rough but warm over her. Healing properties aside, she hadn’t known how... touch could feel so comforting. This, too, he’s giving her— and so, she seeks to reciprocate.
In turn Pyra’s hand relaxes upon his back, fingers spreading out to rest her palm, lightly pressing his tunic against his back. He’s quite muscular, she finds, undoubtedly from years of training, and the tips of her fingers slowly follow along the oblique ridge of his shoulder blade to just below the nape of his neck.
She wonders if this helps him, if someone who has been dead for so long can find comfort in touch. Hopefully, it is so. ]
The outside world is harsh. But you are strong, [ She can feel it beneath her fingertips, physically strong, but also a magnificent light. She speaks quietly but no less hopefully. ] and your hands... They already have experience with helping to heal your own world.
If they are to select anyone to explore outside, there would be few more capable than you.
[ She makes a moot claim. In Eos, he had his people and the souls of his descendants beside him in the millennia-long fight for the future. By himself, he’s weak even with his god-given powers. If he must head out to explore, he would prefer that Pyra and others, whether they consider him an ally or not, accompany him.
Closing his eyes, he becomes aware of the lingering fever once more. Her hand is on his back, and her fingers are so very close to his neck; it’s a vulnerable place for anyone to be reaching, but she won’t use that against him here. They are both unwell, after all. ]
[ Of the mind that touch helps their recovery, she continues to do what she is doing already, holding him, feeling along his back while he keeps his own touch static. If he says that they both must recover... is she doing enough? Her own mind still feels fuzzy, her head heavy, but she manages to keep her voice soft. ]
More tribute to these gods too, right? [ Recovering, honoring the gods-- they're killing two birds with one stone. ] To Rawna, for me. And yourself?
[ Not once did he turn away from logic in spite of being fueled by his negative emotions. Given a spread of the gods, there was no debate about which deity with whom he should choose to associate himself. As fellow followers, he fleetingly wonders what drove Pyra's decision. ]
[ She lifts her hand from his back, only to press her fingers into the lower portion of it. First, we must recover, he had said.
Touch honors the gods. ] Then... this... is for Rawna.
[ The warmth of her fingers leaves him, reappearing at the middle of his back, light but secure. ] This... is for the world.
[ Repeating the motion, her palm now presses to his upper back, holding the touch there for a few more moments. ] And... this is for the people of this world.
[ Her fingers leave his back entirely, and her arm lifts. Finding his forehead again, the pressure of her palm resides atop of his skin, peaceful. So much of touch seems to be done for the gods; but she mustn't forget, even without literal healing properties, touch can feel soothing and warm on its own. This is how she makes her touch to be-- or so she hopes-- as gentle and as peaceful as she can for him. Because this final touch is-- ] But this... this is for you. [ Brushing back his bangs, she runs her fingers through his hair, over his scalp lightly, and down his back. His well-being is just as important as the world. ]
[ At the moment her hand runs down his back, the fever breaks. One last shiver passes through his body as he shuts and reopens his eyes to an abrupt shift in the room. The warmth radiating from Pyra and trapped beneath the sheets suddenly hits him at once, and he whiplashes from feeling cold to hot. The air he sucks in through his nose with healthy, fully expanding lungs is clean yet muggy, leaving him with no doubt as to his condition.
The hand between her hip and the bed slides further along until it comes to rest on her back, above his other hand. With his strength returned to him, he looks Pyra in the eyes before he draws himself close to her in a firm embrace. He presses his head into the pillow, allowing her access to his shoulder should she need a place to rest hers. He has recovered, but she hasn’t. ]
[ His hand reaches above his other behind her, and the next thing she knows he's drawing her into him. Unexpected as the return gesture is, her body stiffens in surprise, spine arching lightly against the press his fingers against her back.
It only takes a moment or two for her to relax, and with a slow exhale, tucking her chin over his shoulder, her whole body seems to melt closely to his. She feels ease further weave into her with the touch, as if he's pulling the ache and illness itself from her body. A few more moments in silence pass, and the chill fades as well. As her arm wraps about him, she murmurs her gratefulness, ] So... generous.
[ And warm. And kind. And, like her, he looks to the future. She wants him to know that she appreciates him and all that he's doing for this world, from having worked so hard at the wall to what he's doing now to help her in return. ] Your hands.... they feel nice. [ Nice enough to snuggle closer, and to try to return to him what she feels from this: comfort, softness, gentleness. She's not sure if her own touch is giving him the same, but she tries.
Smiling, she hopes that he will lend his own touch and aide to anyone else who needs it too, far more than herself. ] Thank you.
[ She’s warm—warmer than to which he’s accustomed as a once formless existence. Even in his mortal days, he lived where the sea would usher in a cool breeze, chilling the air. But the warmth she exudes is far from intolerable, and he holds her close.
There’s nothing to thank. She’s given him her touch (and more), and he means to return it now that he’s recovered. Whether they feel nice or not, at this moment his hands are hers. Only once she’s similarly recovered will he pull back and rise for what remains of the day. ]
[ With the last of the sickness fading from both mind and body, she’s left with a lingering odd sensation throughout all of her. It’s not unpleasant, but more a... fuzziness that has not quite faded. Like her body is relearning how to function when not impeded by inflammation (or the equivalent for her). She wonders, then, if this is how humans might feel the day after beating the worst of a sickness: with renewed energy, but exhausted all the same. She also wonders if he feels similar.... ]
Do... you feel tired? [ Slower. Her words come slower, and her arms around him are slacking. She’s ready to settle into sleep, it seems. ] We may... rest here a little longer, if you wish...
[ Contact during a nap sounds practical in two senses: it will give what is due to the gods while also recovering from a sleepless night. ]
[ Mentally, Somnus is more than ready to rise and start the day late. Physically, his body seems to release an inward sigh at the prospect of rest. It’s been far too long since he last gave into the urge to steal a nap and, though he has little interest in changing that, Pyra has already begun to doze off.
Sooner than later, they’ll need to eat and clean up. For now, he decides that they’ll stay and allow their bodies some more time for recuperation while offering contact to the gods. That compensation is the only reason he speaks in a low voice that beckons her further to sleep. ]
Then rest.
[ The drowsiness that drapes over her like a sheet, combined with the warmth of her body, will eventually invite him to do the same. ]
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no subject
It means that contact... will be better use to us than any armor, or antitoxin, too!
[ Meaning that if a pair were to venture outside, it would involve a lot of hand-holding. Not that that means abandoning protective gear completely, but maybe holding hands while walking outside would mean longer scouting trips!
She laughs delightedly, airily, shaking her head. ] Ah, I feel so silly... [ The barrier is divine. The divinity here is supplied with their power through touch. It is them, the otherworlders, who provide that energy. Can they not take it with them, as they explore? ]
no subject
Certainly, the restorative nature of contact is better than anything man-made so long as they stay in the city. He has seen what the so-called healer’s touch has done to his brother, though, and is reluctant to rely overmuch on this in untested waters. Whereas she lightens the mood with laughter, he brings it back down with a pensive mien. ]
If the gods heal us for offering contact, there is no guarantee that their blessing will bear the same potency beyond the city’s borders.
no subject
The gods are not holding our hands. We are holding each other's. [ Technically, they're doing a lot more than just holding hands, but she hopes her point still stands. ] It is that energy that we give to the gods, and from there they make the barrier.
I hope that... [ Settling back to the crevice that is his body, she scoots to align herself with him. A lingering shiver passes through her, her fingers briefly bunching up the fabric of his tunic on his back. ] we will be able to bring this power unique to us to create havens outside of the city, the further we explore.
no subject
But how curious, that she would use the word haven. While the city is named after one, he's also reminded of the havens that were once strewn across Eos. ]
We will need to petition the council for an expedition, if such a thing is feasible.
no subject
In turn Pyra’s hand relaxes upon his back, fingers spreading out to rest her palm, lightly pressing his tunic against his back. He’s quite muscular, she finds, undoubtedly from years of training, and the tips of her fingers slowly follow along the oblique ridge of his shoulder blade to just below the nape of his neck.
She wonders if this helps him, if someone who has been dead for so long can find comfort in touch. Hopefully, it is so. ]
The outside world is harsh. But you are strong, [ She can feel it beneath her fingertips, physically strong, but also a magnificent light. She speaks quietly but no less hopefully. ] and your hands... They already have experience with helping to heal your own world.
If they are to select anyone to explore outside, there would be few more capable than you.
no subject
Closing his eyes, he becomes aware of the lingering fever once more. Her hand is on his back, and her fingers are so very close to his neck; it’s a vulnerable place for anyone to be reaching, but she won’t use that against him here. They are both unwell, after all. ]
First, we must recover.
no subject
More tribute to these gods too, right? [ Recovering, honoring the gods-- they're killing two birds with one stone. ] To Rawna, for me. And yourself?
no subject
[ Not once did he turn away from logic in spite of being fueled by his negative emotions. Given a spread of the gods, there was no debate about which deity with whom he should choose to associate himself. As fellow followers, he fleetingly wonders what drove Pyra's decision. ]
We are tied to the same god.
no subject
Touch honors the gods. ] Then... this... is for Rawna.
[ The warmth of her fingers leaves him, reappearing at the middle of his back, light but secure. ] This... is for the world.
[ Repeating the motion, her palm now presses to his upper back, holding the touch there for a few more moments. ] And... this is for the people of this world.
[ Her fingers leave his back entirely, and her arm lifts. Finding his forehead again, the pressure of her palm resides atop of his skin, peaceful. So much of touch seems to be done for the gods; but she mustn't forget, even without literal healing properties, touch can feel soothing and warm on its own. This is how she makes her touch to be-- or so she hopes-- as gentle and as peaceful as she can for him. Because this final touch is-- ] But this... this is for you. [ Brushing back his bangs, she runs her fingers through his hair, over his scalp lightly, and down his back. His well-being is just as important as the world. ]
no subject
The hand between her hip and the bed slides further along until it comes to rest on her back, above his other hand. With his strength returned to him, he looks Pyra in the eyes before he draws himself close to her in a firm embrace. He presses his head into the pillow, allowing her access to his shoulder should she need a place to rest hers. He has recovered, but she hasn’t. ]
Then let this be for you.
no subject
It only takes a moment or two for her to relax, and with a slow exhale, tucking her chin over his shoulder, her whole body seems to melt closely to his. She feels ease further weave into her with the touch, as if he's pulling the ache and illness itself from her body. A few more moments in silence pass, and the chill fades as well. As her arm wraps about him, she murmurs her gratefulness, ] So... generous.
[ And warm. And kind. And, like her, he looks to the future. She wants him to know that she appreciates him and all that he's doing for this world, from having worked so hard at the wall to what he's doing now to help her in return. ] Your hands.... they feel nice. [ Nice enough to snuggle closer, and to try to return to him what she feels from this: comfort, softness, gentleness. She's not sure if her own touch is giving him the same, but she tries.
Smiling, she hopes that he will lend his own touch and aide to anyone else who needs it too, far more than herself. ] Thank you.
no subject
There’s nothing to thank. She’s given him her touch (and more), and he means to return it now that he’s recovered. Whether they feel nice or not, at this moment his hands are hers. Only once she’s similarly recovered will he pull back and rise for what remains of the day. ]
no subject
Do... you feel tired? [ Slower. Her words come slower, and her arms around him are slacking. She’s ready to settle into sleep, it seems. ] We may... rest here a little longer, if you wish...
[ Contact during a nap sounds practical in two senses: it will give what is due to the gods while also recovering from a sleepless night. ]
no subject
Sooner than later, they’ll need to eat and clean up. For now, he decides that they’ll stay and allow their bodies some more time for recuperation while offering contact to the gods. That compensation is the only reason he speaks in a low voice that beckons her further to sleep. ]
Then rest.
[ The drowsiness that drapes over her like a sheet, combined with the warmth of her body, will eventually invite him to do the same. ]