WHO? Hei
dipolar Dorian
excelsus and maybe you!
WHAT? Dorian has an obligation to Hei whether he likes it or not
WHEN? Post Dorian's fail!kidnapping and Noctis's real!kidnapping
ANYTHING ELSE? Possible descriptions of violence, will update as necessary! Also top levels!
no subject
hei doesn't truly wake for the better part of a day, a timeline reliant on a dark sky they saw when they were duelling competent enemies. the brief instances of dizzy alertness during these harrowing hours of uncertainty seem very much like unpleasant dreams. the first time he rouses for water, dimly realizing that the straps of his weapons, his jacket, and his shirt have all been cut away are to blame for his chill. the second time for a mop-up and rewrap, letting women wind tight bandages around festering wounds with only subconscious grunts at their questions.
they're all answers he'd like to know.
can you tell us what happened? can you remember where you are? can you tell us your name?
no.
let me be alone. let me rest. let me die.)
Fuck, (a croak, throat drier than he's ever remembered it being, finally letting his head loll on a thin pillow as dorian's magic shows its usefulness. while he's conscious again and it loses its effectiveness when bruised eyes crack open and drag here and there, it gives him just enough energy to draw himself from the weak coma he'd sunk into.
finding dorian on the cot next to him is a moment he's sure he flinches through, feeling the sudden tension in his limbs that makes his body seem to jerk.) ... You.
no subject
Dorian was tapped out, it was having an effect on his own vitals, he couldn't take care of himself if he was busy taking care of Hei, now could he. He couldn't break his promises either, being the man of his word that he was and he was keenly intent of keeping his word.
What doesn't surprise him is Hei's reaction to his presence, sorry? But this was just how they'd been set up and neither of them were going anywhere any time soon.] Indeed, me. You can relax, or try to relax, these pillows don't provide a great deal of neck support I fear.
[Actually he's trying to brace himself for the outrage or the fit, whatever was to come next]
no subject
thank god there's still some left at his bedside, almost choking on it with how thirstily he cleans the glass.
has to take a few seconds to pant uselessly, harsh breaths and a flop down sounding far better than this half-sit.)
Dorian... what the hell did you do to me... (he knows how it felt, how it looked, but there's a very stark difference between experiencing something and understanding it — and their discussions over the network consisted of very little talk where blood magic was concerned, touching more thoroughly on the necromancy.)