agogelogs | in that case, I'll lay a curse on you instead

Yoshitsugu watches Takatora's hands move through the air for a few seconds before looking away again, moving through the chamber with clear intent and intrigue. It's still strange, being in situations where his sense of the flow isn't fully complete. Certainly it's not gone, that's impossible, but he's constantly thrown into situations far removed from the world as he understood it.

What was obvious in Japan, in the era of war and samurai, where he had lived his entire life? Not so here. He's having to learn new rules on the go.

"Yes. Anything that might help us create a strategy for settling the spirits in here."

It's actually rather refreshing, which is why his smile does not die for a moment even in the depths of a dark and immense necropolis like this (though one might make the case that he enjoys that kind of thing anyway).

"I do not wish to fight this necromancer until we can weaken her weapons, either," he says, lingering at an archway as he reaches it. "Even together I do not believe we can be sure of defeating her yet. The flow is not in our favour while we remain so blind to what we are dealing with."

Takatora's pace is slower, as he multitasks. He wants to make sure that his virtual reconstruction is accurate.

"Alright," he says in acquiescence. "So our first task is meeting some ghosts."

When he reaches Yoshitsugu, he takes the lead into the next room — Yoshitsugu is the strategist and he's the vanguard. That's how it's always been for them.

"And... checking the tombs we pass for signs of ritual? Strange markings, desecration, anything that looks or feels out of place."

If there's any consideration that he's missing, Yoshitsugu will let him know.

"Yes."

He pauses, reaching out to touch Takatora's shoulder briefly as a way of indicating to him that he's spotted something; this passageway contains more than one arch and there's one that, while identical in all other ways, leads to an obvious stairway. The first stairway they've seen since stepping inside.

Which Yoshitsugu heads over to without bothering to wait for his partner to go first. The flow is telling him this is correct, so why wait?

"We won't recognise all of it, but we should find enough... unless, of course, the ghosts find us first. Maybe they'll even point it out to us. Wouldn't that be nice?"

He lingers in the doorway for all of a second, looking around for any obvious trap, before shrugging and stepping down.

There's a loud click, something in the walls moves, and suddenly there are no stairs at all... just a slope, which even a samurai with quick reflexes couldn't react to fast enough to avoid. Yoshitsugu slips, plunging into the darkness.

Takatora turns at that touch, already mapping out this new room. It's why he's too slow to save his partner when that echoing click happens and Yoshitsugu vanishes from sight, despite lunging with to full extent of his considerable reach.

"Yoshitsugu!"

His fingers ghost fabric, but it's to no avail. His heart pounds, an iron band of fear tightening around his chest.

He doesn't even bother to close his BCE. He simply springs forward again.

"Yoshi—"

His second cry is cut short when he tumbles forward, not expecting the slope.

The single fortunate thing about this is that Yoshitsugu had slipped backwards as he fell, hitting his head hard enough to bruise but ensuring he was orientated correctly. There is no time to yell a warning to his partner before Takatora tumbles after him, however.

Damn.

Instinct kicks in; Yoshitsugu looks back, looks down into the darkness and focuses all of his energies into expanding his little orb of light as far down as possible. A glimpse of what's coming could save them from far worse than a fall.

The light is a relief; he can feel the essence of Yoshitsugu's musou in the air, which means that Yoshitsugu is okay.

But that's far down, and squinting ahead into the darkness as speed, he can't make out what awaits them at the end. It would be better if he shields Yoshitsugu, in case of something painful awaiting them. He can take much more injury than his partner.

So he does the only thing he can to try and catch up, so that he'll be in position to take the brunt of their momentum coming to a sudden stop, a solid obstacle, spikes. A little ice on himself, to slide with less resistance from natural friction. Just enough; he's conscious of controlling his speed.

When he's close enough, he can grab hold.

Yoshitsugu's own powers are a lot less useful in this situation; the single one that might have shielded him, the brief burst of invulnerability that musou can bring, would take far too long to charge up and more focus than one can gather when hurtling down an 'endless' dark slide.

The light is all he can do to help them, and right now it reveals... something, still a decent distance away but hard to make out.

He glances back up, realises Takatora is speeding up and quickly works out what that must mean. So he fixes his gaze on his partner and gives himself over to the flow completely, leaving it all in Takatora's hands.

It's not the gentlest manhandling when Takatora catches up. He only has a few moments to enclose his arms around Yoshitsugu and pull Yoshitsugu into the comparative safety of his body. But it's nothing compared to what awaits them.

He can bear it. He'll endure. He's probably survived worse.

Whatever the outcome, he's done all he can to protect Yoshitsugu. In a rush of breath, Takatora remarks, "Ready for a rough stop?"

The rest, now, is up to his partner.

Considering Takatora had fallen face-first and himself backwards, Yoshitsugu ends up with his face nestled against Takatora's legs. There's nothing for it now but to hold on. Even if what awaits them is simply a hard stone floor this is going to hurt his partner a lot; hopefully the flow does not deliver them onto worse than that.

"Yes."

The light reveals the bottom; Yoshitsugu can't see anymore, wrapped up as he is, but Takatora will get a glimpse only seconds before they smack into the hard stone surface.

Bang.

The sound they make resonates through the chamber, almost drowning out the click the stairs make as they reappear. Yoshitsugu has been spared mostly, but not entirely, and his summoned light fades a little as he grunts with pain.

The explosion of pain whites out everything for a moment, and the only reason Takatora doesn't cry out is because the force of the impact drives all breath out of him. His ears ring. When the world reforms, he wheezes, then groans.

He's felt pain like this more times than he can count. It's nothing. It's nothing. His throat clicks as he swallows.

He breathes in and out, waiting for the shock to wear off, waiting for the hurt to feel familiar. The burn of friction begins to make itself known, layering a different kind of pain on top of the existing pain. But nothing is broken. There were no further nasty surprises waiting for them.

His grip on Yoshitsugu loosens. Hoarsely, slowly, he says, "Are you... hurt?"

With room to move now, Yoshitsugu rolls onto his side and says nothing for a few seconds. It's used to judge the damage. Lump on the back of his head, some friction burns on his legs, a scattering of what will become bruises... shock, more than anything, makes his body shake.

Fortunately the BCE can quicken the healing process, but it's far from immediate and does nothing about the pain.

"Yes." He lets out a shaky breath, running a hand down his face. "But not enough to worry about. You had to be a fool, didn't you?"

Because Takatora protecting Yoshitsugu was in many ways a really stupid thing to do; Yoshitsugu's weight definitely made the impact much worse for his battered partner. It's typical for him, though, to treat himself like a handtowel. Thinking of a conversation he had with Ryuji, about meaning and dreams and romance, about love, Yoshitsugu remembers something the young man had said to him that seems very appropriate to use right now.

"Does my 'other half' have any broken bones I need to worry about?"

Takatora finally closes his BCE, then runs a hand over his face, not moving yet. Yoshitsugu's okay. Good.

"No."

He says, then he blinks. He takes a deep breath then pulls himself up into a half-sitting position. Another groan catches in his throat, evoked by the movement, but he can't stay still for long anyway. More importantly...

"O-other half?"

He feels his cheeks go hot, so he cannot be in too bad a state.

Yoshitsugu's words engrave themselves into his mind and heart. Other half, as if they are only whole together.

It feels that way, sometimes.

Of course Takatora feels to focus on that of all things. In this beautiful but gloomy tomb, with the threat of a necromancer and restless ghosts ahead, having just fallen into one of the many traps apparently scattered around? The other samurai must focus on a singular expression of romance despite all that and the pain searing through his body.

Maybe Yoshitsugu knew that would happen and used it for that reason. Maybe. He manages a little smile as he pulls himself up, sighs, and removes the bundle strapped to his person

"Take your pack off so I can examine your back," he says, without any room for argument. "And yes... someone suggested that term to me. Isn't it nice?"

A good thing to focus on while Yoshitsugu tends to the burns he knows will adorn Takatora's back. They have the right supplies to soothe them, at least, and somewhere nearby he can hear a trickle of water. A fountain even this deep underground should be quite handy.

"Who was it?"

Takatora asks, both curious and embarrassed, before he grits his teeth and pulls himself into proper seiza. Ouch. Gingerly, he removes his crushed pack. The motion tugs unpleasantly on his rapidly bruising back, though it's only moderate pain by his standards.

"Now your clothes."

Only the top half, but that goes without saying. Yoshitsugu takes a deep breath and pulls himself to his feet, swaying for a moment as his head spins before getting to work. Takatora gets no further replies for a moment while Yoshitsugu steps further into the room, quickly finding what he suspected he would; a cool fountain, its water falling into a basin which is itself a maze.

Emptying his room-temperature canteen, Yoshitsugu collects some pleasantly cool liquid before returning.

"A young friend of mine." He sits behind his partner and looks through their gear, gathering the necessities. "He knows all about you. Aren't you suspicious that I've been spilling all your secrets, dear Takatora?"

By the time Yoshitsugu returns, Takatora has his top off. Yoshitsugu knows his scars, so he has no qualms showing his skin to his partner. There is barely a space of unmarked skin. It's a map of their lifetimes, from young war orphans to important samurai in their own rights.

"You wouldn't. Or am I going to return to find my room filled with disgusting mochi?"

Much of that familiar sight looks rather painful and inflamed now; Yoshitsugu looks over it thoughtfully before getting to work. Yes, there are no breaks and worrying damage but it's still bad.

"Should I give it away to everyone else instead?"

It might be wise to camp up for now and give the BCE a chance to heal his partner. The flow is starting to feel more dangerous.

Takatora glances back over his shoulder, keeping his breathing deep and even as Yoshitsugu tends to him. It's not exactly comfortable, but it's necessary. He still manages some amusement. He knows it's a distraction, but he's willingly embracing it.

"It's my responsibility. I'll rid us of them."

Yoshitsugu huffs a quiet laugh; he opens a small jar of what he's learned is a cream rather suited to burns, one that keeps out infection while soothing the flesh.

It's going to sting going on, though.

"My young friend rather enjoys mochi."

That this happened in the first place is a little disconcerting to Yoshitsugu. He'd been sure there were no traps in that doorway, on that first step... no obvious detail had been missed. This is quite frankly a mistake of his that has cost them both and he has to wonder; what was there in that stone arch?

"So I can spare you. No need to take up this burden; you have enough of them already, don't you?"

Though... hmm. Was it something in the stone arch? Thoughtful, and with considerable care by his standards, Yoshitsugu starts to spread the cream across Takatora's back.

Edited (did you notice that I was missing a 'back' at the end there) 2018-02-02 00:11 (UTC)

Takatora inhales sharply, and his eyelashes flutter, but otherwise he doesn't so much as flinch at the sting of the cream as it's applied.

"I won't shirk my duties. You can't take the burden of mochi from me."

Not that he'd truly begrudge losing some to Yoshitusgu's friend, but all? Never. Serious business, this.

"It keeps me useful."

Yoshitsugu quirks a slight smile. Without pausing in his ministrations he leans forward and rewards Takatora's 'dutiful' nature with a feather-light kiss to the back of his neck.

"You can be useful right now by checking your BCE while I clean you up."

Settling back, the samurai wipes one hand clean on the floor (though he keeps spreading the cream with the other). Takatora is definitely going to need to sleep on his front; even chancing it on his side would sting a little.

"The room before us; was there anything notable about the floor?"

Takatora shivers, a soft breath escaping him.

"A-Alright," he answers, a moment later.

That's definitely one thing he's learned: being inside a necropolis isn't enough to deter Yoshitsugu's teasing.

Takatora opens his BCE and zooms in, looking for small details. It takes a few minutes, but he finally finds their answer.

"...Huh. I see it! The difference is mere millimetres, but... looks like you stepped on a pressure plate in the doorway. I wonder how it resets. The mechanisms have to be pretty impressive..."

By that point Yoshitsugu has finished tending to Takatora's back, cleaned his hands and begun laying out a bedroll. Just the one. While he isn't in perfect shape right now it's clear who needs to sleep more and they can't chance camping without someone on guard.

"...then we must rely on you to scan every room. Our mission will take more time, but we cannot risk more injuries like this."

He grunts slightly; impressive mechanisms, yes, but they had altered the flow. Did the necromancer know of them? A question to ponder while he watched over his wounded lover.

"Bed down. You're going to rest now."

"Alright."

Takatora glances over to watch Yoshitsugu, and almost protests. But they're going to have to take turns anyway, so perhaps it is best to give his implants a chance to do their work quicker.

And Yoshitsugu is the strategist.

He doesn't move right away, though.

"Let me map this room first."

It won't take long, but he does have standards. Who knows how valuable the information might be to COST? His hands move quickly through the air.

Yoshitsugu huffs a quiet, short laugh. Settling into a comfortable position at Takatora's side, he brings up his own BCE. Time to go through those photos he's taken so far and give this mission some deep thought; it's the best way to use his time on watch.

"I can allow that."

There's an implied 'but nothing more' in there, and it's not just the sentiment of a strategist who needs his companion to stay efficient. They have always been close friends and comrades, but a loving relationship in a harsh war against impossible odds? Well.

Of course he worries, even if Yoshitsugu isn't one to easily express such an emotion.

in that case, I'll lay a curse on you instead

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