Riyeko Lionward; The reserved and nervous inventor (thebesttoys) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-12-30 19:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, nathaniel porter, riyeko lionward |
I'm Not Crazy, I'm Just A Little Unwell, I Know Right Now You Can't Tell....
Who: Riyeko & Nate
What: Checking in!
Where: Nate's place.
When: BACKDATED: December 5th.
Rating: PG?
Status: tbc via log....
Considering the circumstances at hand from the past several weeks things had been pretty crazy. While Riyeko hadn't gotten involved in much of the illness scare that had happened, she couldn't deny the creeping worry that had begun to set in after not hearing from Nate in haunted some time. As the boy had gotten his own place, she hadn’t seen him in quite some time at this rate. Though… Could he just be caught up in his own inventions? It was hard to tell with the state of Emillion as of late. With that, Riyeko put together a bento, assembled a bag to accompany her trip, and made her way down to Nate’s new living quarters via her hoverboard. Surely, the promise of food would assist in getting him to come out, and say hello! It seemed a simple idea and zipping down to his new location - while she wondered a bit about the safety of it - was pretty easy. Landing the board, and kicking it up to tuck under one arm, a hand raised to knock at his door… Or at least…. She hoped it was his door. It’d be terribly embarrassing if she ended up at the wrong door. There was a sound. Was it a sound? Idiot boy, so stupid. Get up! There’s someone at the door! Yes, the door. Someone was knocking. Nate stumbled upright, blinking dust out of his eyes. Was he underwater? Everything felt harder to do, it was harder to move. Had he been asleep? Sleep is so useless. It’s so boring when you sleep. Make me more crickets! No, he’d been making - things. He didn’t know what. They crunched under his feet, and he winced - he wasn’t wearing shoes. Why would he be wearing shoes? He was inside. Something tickled on his hand. Absently, he licked at his finger, tasting copper. His nails were cracked. When had that happened? Stupid fragile human. Why are you so broken. Make me more toys! The little wire creature under his foot wriggled. Nate lifted his weight, and put the next foot down. He put one hand out to the wall. Walking was difficult. It felt like his weight was in the wrong place. What had he been doing? Door, the door! Who is it? Did they bring more jewels? His floor was covered in skittering noises. The door was heavy. Nate pulled with all his strength, leaning back, hanging his weight of the handle. It didn’t shift. Why was everything so covered in wool? He fell forwards, curling up at the base of the door, and let his head fall forwards against the wood with a thunk. There was an odd noise on the other side of the door, and Riyeko leaned forward, a mixture of curiosity and concern writing itself across her features. “Nate?” Weight was shifted between her feet. Maybe there was somewhere she could look in. If she could just see something, anything of what was going on… A low thoughtful noise squeaked forth, and with a bend forward she attempted to check the lock. Maybe there was a hole she could see through? Unfortunately, the task proved unfruitful. A disgruntled huff was given, her face easily dropping in frustration, and dismay. “Are you there?” Consideration was given to knocking again but… “It’s me, Riyeko!” Riyeko? The nice lady! With the silver and the cogs and the wire! What was she doing here? He didn’t have any commissions he’d forgotten about, did he? He hadn’t taken any new ones, not since he finished that bard’s amplifier… Let her in, stupid boy! Let her in! He’d been trying to do that, but the door - Nate blinked, looking harder. He’d - put more bolts on it? He didn’t remember doing that. “One minute,” he said, or tried to say. His throat felt scratchy, and his voice sounded odd. He scrabbled at the bolts, pushing them back one at a time before twisting the key in the lock. Finally, the door fell open. It was hard to hear exactly what was going on behind the door. It seemed to be a big heavy thing. Or perhaps, the person on the other side of it was just being really quite. The machinist’s face scrunched up, worry beginning to pull at her more and more. What if he was sick? What if he had caught the plague? What if Nate was dying? Oh no, no, oh dear. That would be the worst thing that could ever possibly happen and what would she do? How did someone handle another person who was dying? If he hadn’t been cured of the plague, then would he still be contagious? What if it started an entirely new epidemic? Though. those thoughts died when the door suddenly jarred and began to move. “Oh! Um! Are you alright?” Were the first words that fell out of her mouth before she even saw the boy, but when he came fully into view she realized that perhaps that really was the wrong question to have asked. Alright? Don’t let her know how weak you are, stupid boy. She’ll never give you shinies then! “I’m - fine,” he said, then coughed as the words rasped up out of his unresponsive throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken out loud - perhaps in the park, with that bard? It didn’t really matter. There’d been a plague about, he remembered that much. She’d just think he was still sick. She shifted, and Nate flinched back as filtered sunlight hit his face. The voice inside him hissed its displeasure, wanting him to move forwards, to bask in the sun, but the light hurt his eyes and made his head pound viciously. “Um, oh, well, um.” She wanted to say something far more sensical than a handful of sounds, but the way he sounded…. “Are you sick?” Her tone was sincerely curious, and more than a little worried. Leaning off to the side a bit - in attempts to get a better look at him - the cloth wrapped bento that had come to rest in her hands shifted. “If you are, that’s okay, but we should get you to on the clinics. Even if you have the plague they found a cure for it, and supposedly it works really well. I was hearing a bunch of people in the Bazaar say they’ve never felt better, and they looked just fine too. We could get it taken care of really easily, the mage’s have been working really hard.” The words spilled out, both in concern for herself, and worry for Nate as well. The last thing Riyeko needed was to get sick, especially with something that everyone else had already gotten over but… If Nate was sick… “I can take you there on my hoverboard if you’re worried about walking!” “No, I’m -” Wait, stupid, wasn’t that what he wanted her to think - “Yes?” He couldn’t say he felt well, so it wasn’t even a lie - though he’d not precisely been conscious of how he felt for a while. Now that he was standing up, he could tell that his legs were shaky. His eyes were playing tricks on him, telling him the world was moving - discretely, he reached out a hand and clutched, knuckles white, at the doorframe. Ooo, yes, let’s go out. Bazaar! I like the sound of that. But the light hurt so much. Stupid hume. Sun is good! It warms your feathers, gets them all shiny and fresh. But - he didn’t have feathers? Nate shook his head sharply, trying to get rid of the confusion. He immediately regretted it. The world spun, and he screwed his eyes shut, his hold on the doorframe the only thing keeping him upright. Maybe he was sick. Maybe this thing, this voice, maybe it was a sickness. There was no shame in that, surely? The healers would know how to fix it, they had to. But then, who would trust a crazed machinist to build them bombs, grenades, who would trust him to handle potions or poisons? He’d lose everything. “No. ‘m fine.” She seemed worried, especially when she’d mentioned the plague, but “I stayed inside. The whole time. Was careful.” There. Maybe now she’d leave him alone. |