tushanshu_logs | [EVENT] A NEW WORLD ORDER

[EVENT] A NEW WORLD ORDER

Characters: ALL!
Date: December 8, 2015 (with some starters for the following weeks)
Location: Keeliai, the Midnight Hotel, others
Situation: The Foreigners have awakened.
Warnings/Rating: Add warnings as needed.

They've been in the Dreaming for so long that when they wake up their bodies feel more like automatons, alien and ill-fitting. They haven’t atrophied, thanks to Milyn, but they’re stiff and a little bedsore, and the solidity of the Life Plane is jarring. Here, the surroundings don’t move on a whim. Here the world is more stable, almost harsh and unyielding in spite of the homey surrounds.

It’s been a year, says the clock on the mantle and on the second floor. Says Milyn, too, when she’s able to stop hugging them long enough to speak.

Nothing much has changed in the Midnight Hotel. There are dishes out of place, objects belonging to either Milyn or Eva in evidence, the diorama exactly where it had been but now brightly-painted thanks to Milyn's boredom. Milyn and Eva took a room each, in the time the Foreigners were sleeping, though neither used them much.

Eva’s upstairs, Milyn will tell anyone who asks. In her room.

Eva hasn't left that room in three days. She hasn't spoken in three days, either, or walked, or moved, or breathed. Her effects are neatly arranged around her bed, and the sheet has been pulled up. There is heavy incense in the room and Milyn has managed to preserve the body enough to remove the risk of too much mess (and other things). In a way, that makes it worse: as though Eva is sleeping. It’s difficult to tell whether Milyn is in denial or whether spending three days with no one to talk to other than sleeping Foreigners and a corpse has had its influence.

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Patience, Raine reminded herself, and was briefly grateful she was facing away from Solomon, because some of the lack thereof would surely show in her face. His general sparingness with touch, especially most recently, meant every contact he did make felt magnified. She exhaled, a pleased little sigh, and dropped her arms. "Pleasant," she returned eventually, tipping her head slightly back, eyes half-closed. He blocked the majority of the water, but the heat in the air lingered, and she couldn't quite bring herself to care. "And helpful. Will you need assistance in turn?"

They really, Solomon thought with something like wry bitterness, need to find a word other than 'pleasant' for moments like these. He hadn't missed that Skulduggery hadn't been present downstairs. It hadn't escaped him that that meant Skulduggery had left, and had not even said goodbye. He would rather not think about it at all, right now.

Raine had lathered her hair fairly well already, so in truth the action on Solomon's part was almost as much a pretext just to tease. Even when her posture drooped along with the tip of her head, Solomon held himself just enough back to maintain some space. "Oh, I don't believe so," he said airily, taking a step back and tugging her gently with him so the spray moved over his shoulder onto her hair, and let him rinse it out with long, smooth strokes. It was admittedly with some faint regret--it moved the pressure of the water off his back. "My hair is far from this length. I should be able to handle it myself."

When she judged her hair was likely sufficiently rinsed, Raine twisted a little to glance up at him, trying to gauge exactly how much of that was simple teasing. "Very well," she said momentarily, and stepped a little away, reaching to retrieve and hand to him the soap he'd need. She made no move to turn away from him again, however, rather stood where she was, collected her hair over one shoulder. Absently she gauged the length again -- ridiculous -- but her attention was for the most part on Solomon. "Don't let me get in your way."

Raine was nothing if not a fast learner. A corner of Solomon's mouth kept tugging with an approving and pleased smile as he turned to duck his head under the water, smoothing it back off his forehead, enjoying the hot water down his face and shoulders and very deliberately lingering in the motion. If Raine was going to watch, he may as well give her time to do so.

His hair was down to his shoulders, Solomon noted absently. Definitely in need of a cut. He could do so himself, though it would look a little ragged after--maybe Raine had a better hand with the scissors.

Once Solomon had lathered his hands with the hair-wash he reached up to run the soap through his hair, but the muscles down either side of his upper spine twinged and his breath caught with a startled grunt. He had to lower his hands carefully to keep those muscles from cramping further--right behind his lungs as they were, it made him short of breath. And he couldn't even reach that particular area of his back, either, so he massaged his side instead, with not a little bit of exasperation.

He'd been carrying more tension than he thought, and the stiffness of a year abed surely hadn't helped ease it off. That was annoying.

As much as it was, usually, her tactic to let the stubborn refusing help run right into their own physical limitations if necessary, Raine hadn't actually expected that to be the case here. Nor, she thought, had Solomon, going by the suddenness of that muscle spasm. Almost instantly her mind snapped from simple appreciation of form to diagnosis and healing. "Honestly," she said, her tone not unkind but fondly exasperated, and stepped toward him, rested one hand gently flat between his shoulder blades to get a feel for what, exactly, those muscles were doing.

She hadn't noticed any previous difficulties in his movements, and his own reaction read more of annoyance than any severer pain. Muscle cramps related to built-up tension and too long asleep in the same position seemed most likely. "None of your injuries from the Dreaming lingered, correct?" Raine asked aloud anyway, just to be sure she hadn't missed something. And, just a little more quietly, "Let me help."

The touch of her hand shouldn't have been a surprise but it was, in the sense that even that light pressure made those muscles cramp again. It took a moment before Solomon could answer, and even then his back settled only uneasily under her touch with a dozen little twitches.

"No, they didn't," he confirmed. It was fortunate, given then internal injuries he'd suffered against Malicant. He smiled wryly. "It seems I have little choice, since the shower's heat hasn't helped." Maybe if he'd stood under the direct beat of the water for longer, but that wouldn't have been much fun for either of them after a time.

Solomon braced himself against the wall with one arm and dropped the other to a rest-position, loosening the side of his back under Raine's hand. Standing up was far from the optimal position for this sort of thing, but all he needed was to be able to lift his hands over his head long enough to wash his hair. Surely that wouldn't take much.

No chance she'd be able to actually heal him the way she normally would, then; this was Solomon's own body knotting itself up, nothing more. Raine frowned at the spasms under her fingers, and shook her head. That was an uncommon level of sensitivity. "There's always a choice," she said absently, thinking over the problem briefly. Simple massage it was going to have to be. "However, the other option is often to suffer in silence, which I'd prefer you didn't. Let me know if I press too firmly."

She did spare some focus to call mana to her hands, not from the world around but within herself. The resulting glow was barely visible, but when Raine spread her hands lightly across his back there was an uncommon warmth to them, and her hope was that the vital energy in its purer form would help soothe the cramped muscles. She half-closed her eyes, to feel rather than look, and applied pressure gently at first, massaging along where the muscles were tightest.

Solomon grunted a little at the first pressure, startling as it was, even though it shouldn't have been; but a moment later it was enough to at least smooth the twitches, if not the tension. "I don't think it's possible for you to do otherwise, currently," he admitted with a thread of corresponding tension in his voice. "But that's no fault of yours."

He couldn't see what she was doing, but her fingers felt uncommonly warm, and that was soothing. Solomon rested his forehead against his arm and forced himself to relax further, though it wasn't long before he didn't have to force himself at all even with the tension still in attendance. He murmured, "I didn't realise massage therapy was a part of a healer's casual education."

Raine did know sometimes pain was a necessary part of healing, but even so she'd rather not cause it to the people she cared for, when possible. Still he seemed to be easing a bit, and that was promising. She kept at the massage, risking more pressure where she thought it might help.

"It's not, usually," she said in response. "It's typically more something for doctors. I'm no expert, either; I've simply picked up what I can, along the way. It's been useful before." A combination of anatomical knowledge, brief begged lessons here and there, and practice with people who trained till they could barely move and expected to still be functional the next day. A pause, and Raine asked, "Has this been a problem before, or was it wholly brought on by our unexpected nap?"

"No more than can be averted by a hot bath," Solomon said. Though warrior-type sorcerers tended to disdain necromancers as being something close to conventional wizards because their magic required less strenuous training than other forms of magic, that perception overlooked the fact that the use of necromancy in a battle was still akin to an art or a dance.

Of course, Solomon was also one of the few who habitually used it to fight. For most necromancers, it was an excuse to not. Either way, it did mean Solomon had a tendency to need soothing hot baths on a more regular basis than most ... that and he enjoyed flouting that ridiculous rule about self-denial.

"You've picked it up well," Solomon added after a moment, raising his hand gingerly above his head so Raine would be able to feel where the muscle still caught, and then lowering it again when his back still twinged. Less than it had, much less, but it was still tender and Solomon wasn't inclined to suggest that Raine stop just yet.

"Good," Raine said, still a little absent, thoughts on touch rather than words. Much better that he could and did take care of himself, and that this was nothing approaching a common occurrence. "With proper care, hopefully this level of tension won't recur." And if it did she would make an effort to help, again, but the goal after all was to prevent the necessity.

She would not be wholly surprised if that tension had something to do with his magic, as well, but whatever the cause, the long dream had only exacerbated it. "There," she said when he moved, following the motion to the muscle that was yet giving problems, and kneaded carefully at that point, focused. Realized, belatedly, that there had been a compliment, as well. "...Thank you. I see you're recovering some range of motion, at least." And it was a visible difference; she was managing to help, unlike how she'd barely been able to help anyone at all in the Dreaming. Thank goodness.

"And yet now I find I've no need of it," Solomon answered blandly, meaning, of course, his range of motion. It was all but a blatant lie. He could think of any number of things he could do with a recovered range of motion. It was almost a pity he had already drawn a mental limit ... ah, well. Anticipation was its own reward.

He shifted to switch arms, partly to rest the one on which he'd been leaning but also to make it easier for Raine to massage those related muscles too. A little sooner than Raine intended, perhaps--certainly there would have been nothing wrong with giving his back more attention than Solomon was allowing--but Solomon was beginning to feel overly warm, and not entirely because of the heat of the shower. That was something he'd have to put a stop to fairly soonish.

"No need at all, hm?" Raine shifted when Solomon did, pausing only briefly to ascertain exactly what he was doing, obligingly changed her focus to those muscles he'd made easier to get at. Her hands were somewhat surer now, more assured in what she was doing.

She couldn't see his face, but that too-even blandness suggested to her that he might not be wholly accurate. "That seems somewhat improbable. Had you planned to give up entirely on your hair for the moment, then?" Her own tone was light, half-sure that he'd returned to some variant of teasing again. If that was the case, he couldn't be too badly off.

"Only for the moment," Solomon returned, smiling into the wall. For those moments it was enjoyable to rest there, as relaxed as it was possible to be while standing; leaned against the wall with the water still hard against his side, and Raine's fingers light on his back, and the warmth completely dissolving the memories of that cold dank cellar.

Finally he sighed and stirred and stretched, and it was something of a deliberately languorous movement before he turned and smiled at her, and reached out toward her--and picked up the hair-wash past her shoulder to pour some more into his palm, his eyes gleaming with laughter. "Thank you ever so, Master Healer Sage."

There was a peace to it, the heat and the closeness and the simplicity of touch, and Raine was almost a little sorry when Solomon moved again. But they couldn't linger there all day, after all, and his smile was a welcome sight.

Her breath caught again when he reached out, though, expecting-- she didn't know what. She'd had her focus on healing, barely more than that, and now Raine was reminded once more that she was in close proximity to an attractive and very unclothed man. Ah. "Solomon," she said, mildly reproachful, most likely about the return to a title rather than her proper name. Then she sighed lightly, and shook her head. It wouldn't help.

Instead Raine returned his smile, and reached for the soap to get a start on actually washing herself, now that her own hair had been handled. "You're welcome, of course," she said, with a valiant effort at pure businesslike calm. It came out reasonably enough, though her cheeks and the tips of her ears had flushed pink. "Though I could hardly just leave you in that state." She paused only briefly when she came across the scar on her chest, as if she hadn't quite expected its presence, then moved on.

Solomon watched that flush spread with a deceptively lazy expression, one that didn't even hide the fact that he was looking on this particular occasion. With her hair wet, her ears were very much on display. Solomon certainly didn't mind, and the little appreciative smile lurking around the corner of his mouth didn't do anything to hide that fact.

"Yes?" he answered his name with that lazy innocence, kneading the soap into his hair and then stepping back to rinse it under the shower. He didn't miss the pause, however. "That one's new, I take it," he said more soberly, brushing back his hair so it lay flat. If only he could stand it on his shoulders--but even a touch of curl was preferable to the weight of the length, even though it couldn't be as bad as Raine's.

Maybe they'd be able to find a pair of scissors somewhere in the near vicinity.

"You know my name," she returned when he answered, and did not really expect it to make a difference. Rather, Raine moved on from that matter, tapped the scar lightly with two fingers. "Yes, it's new. Or relatively so, at any rate."

Who could tell exactly how the time had moved in the Dreaming, after all? Certainly not her. It would fade in time, though likely never completely, and she'd keep the reminder. "I healed it in stages, rather than in one arte," she added by way of explanation for why the scar remained so evident. Then she lifted her shoulders a little, and scrubbed over it once more, and her gaze drifted back to Solomon.

He was watching her, of course, had been. Not exactly unusual behavior, especially in their context, but it still occasionally made her pause, that sort of regard from him. It was not something to which she was wholly accustomed, though it was certainly pleasing, catching him watching her, and Raine couldn't quite help the slow returned smile, despite the turn the conversation had taken.

Solomon didn't press, if Raine didn't want to volunteer the source of what had obviously been a near-lethal injury. She was alive and well; any details were, by now, quite the moot point. Besides which, he was enjoying the view, and the exquisitely charming smile that was being returned to him.

"Would you care for some help with washing your back now?" he asked innocently, already reaching for the soap to lather some in his hands without once looking away from her.

In this case she definitely was glad he hadn't pressed; Raine would have disliked outright lying, but the fact it had not been directly Malicant, rather Skulduggery who had nearly killed her then was one she'd rather not brandish about. Even if she had forced his hand at the time.

Raine put those thoughts away, and nodded. She moved a little closer to him, holding his gaze as she did, before turning on the spot, absently sweeping the annoyance of her hair out of the way again. "If you don't mind," she said over her shoulder. Not that she thought he actually would, but painstaking courtesy was apparently the name of the game. "It would be a little more difficult, by myself."

"Not at all," Solomon said blandly but with a twinkle in his eyes that she could no longer see. He touched her shoulders gently, running his hands across her skin to spread the soap, but ensuring the touch was lighter than it had to be. Though there were no outright caresses in attendance, the touch was too light to be considered strictly 'business-like', and certainly wasn't quite enough to perform a proper washing.

Raine did have to wonder how it was Solomon managed to find a near-perfect balance with his touch, seemingly neither intent on one thing or the other. It was both impractical and frustrating, and she bore it for only a little while before rolling her shoulders and twisting to look back up at him. "Solomon," she said, striving for coolness, not quite managing to hide the fond amusement in her tone. "Pick one. Are you washing, or caressing?" Never an actual question that he was doing it on purpose, however.

"Why can't it be both?" Solomon asked innocently, widening his eyes at her glance back as if to question how he could possibly be doing anything untoward. "If I didn't know any better I might almost think you were questioning my capabilities, Master Healer Sage."

But this time when he kneaded her shoulders it was firmly, a deep and lingering sort of massage that was no less caressing for the fact that it was a massage.

She did not believe Solomon's innocence for a moment. "I have no doubts in your capabilities," Raine returned, "and I'm sure you can manage both, but at the moment you-- ah." The pronounced shift in the manner of his touch rendered her temporarily nonverbal, and she closed her eyes, the better to appreciate it. A significant improvement. Raine hummed a quiet, pleased note, and relaxed into the touch.

"At the moment I?" Solomon prompted after a moment, still all innocence, and lightened his touch again to not much more than a light stroke down either side of her spine, as if trying to find another knot in her back except for the fact his touch was too light to find one.

The fact she had felt compelled to cut off her own words was gratifying. It meant he was certainly doing things right, that he was sufficiently distracting her. And himself. It helped, to focus on her like this; helped him ignore the things that had happened in the Dreaming and the fact he still felt as though he was missing a major part of himself.

At the moment, the man was driving her to distraction. And Raine found she didn't wholly mind, really, they could certainly both use it and it was remarkably difficult to think of anything else with Solomon being this particular sort of teasing, but it was all kinds of frustrating. Raine huffed a little, shook her head. "At the moment, you seem to have chosen a less effective middle ground than I would have expected," she said at length, reclaiming her composure by dint of determination alone. "For reasons I'm sure I can't begin to guess at." Her tone edged a little bit playful by the end; she could make a reasonable enough guess.

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