Aspel Cassul: When in doubt, Aspel! (weaponry) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-07-25 23:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, aspel cassul |
"I need you more than I can take...."
Who: Aspel & Ari
What: Ari’s been shot. Aspel is Not Thrilled.
Where: Ari’s flat
When: Backdated to Saturday, 7/19
Rating: Fairly tame actually
Status: Complete
The messages from Ari were less than comforting regarding the other woman’s state of being at this time. Getting shot was a very serious thing to be dealing with, and why Ari had been shot was another matter entirely that made Aspel want to hunt down the dog who had done it and properly behead them for good measure alone. However, that would not be fitting of a councilor, and Aspel knew that regardless of the fiery rage that licked at her insides. So, instead, she opted to head to the bard’s location - Ari’s flat - with fair warning being given to the woman so that she could appropriately prepare for whatever consequences were to come of the interaction they were soon to have. Admittedly there had been two stops before arriving, one at a grocer, and the other at a hardware store which had all been tucked carefully into a bag slung across her shoulders. Now with her sword - it felt alien - strapped to one hip, the smith ascended the steps up to the bards flat before sharply knocking at the door. “Ari?” A brief sort of announcement was given before Aspel cupped her hand against the bard’s door to listen for movement, or really, any sounds at all. Regardless, the smith reminded herself, Ari had been warned, and with that, Aspel drew her sword, and in one swift motion cut the door knob off altogether before pushing carefully at the door. In Ari’s defense, she wasn’t fully alert, nor was she particularly mobile right at the moment. The idea of standing from bed and hobbling to the door hadn’t even fully formed before she dismissed it; she made some sort of vaguely inquisitive sound, but before she could think much more of it… her doorknob fell off. Was it the pain medication? Why would… Oh, yes, right. Ari blinked sleepily a few times to bring her visitor into sharper focus. Aspel did not look particularly happy. Not that Ari herself was particularly happy, either. Still, she tried for a wan smile from across the flat, all but buried in pillows as she was (Aud, bless her, had fussed to make sure she was comfortable, in-between cursing Miles for his carelessness and the world in general for their terrible luck). “That’s the second door you’ve broken now,” she commented, trying not to sound cross and probably failing. “I did not break the door so much as the knob” Aspel corrected Ari’s commentary towards her. “And I will fix it soon.” For every problem came with some solution or another, and this was a simple one that, well… Aspel had dealt with in the past. Thieves and vigilantes did have some things in common after all. Sheathing her sword, the first piece of weighty furniture within reach was grabbed, and lifted so that it could be placed back against the door to assure it would stay closed while they spoke. Aspel would get to fixing the door after that part was done. Moving over near the bed, Aspel gave an appraising look over the wounded bard, her face remaining as emotionless as she could manage while some displeasure slipped through regardless of herself. “And who, may I ask, shot you?” With that, the smith shifted beginning to dig through the bag she’d brought with her. “I didn’t exactly get his name,” Ari responded. “Her? I don’t know.” It was a bit of a blur, really; they’d been trying to get a wounded and no-longer-invisible Ash clear of the guards, and Miles had shouted something, and then -- “Someone who didn’t like what I was doing very much,” she decided at last. That was as much answer as she could seem to give at the moment without mentioning anyone else or giving the heist away. And while Aspel was well aware of her... extracurricular interests, it was unlike Ari to offer up others’ secrets. “I’d have been fine if they hadn’t gotten me in the hip.” She grimaced. “Apparently, I dodged in the wrong direction.” “And what were you doing?” There was a certain, grate to Aspel’s tone, something a bit deeper than a general displeasure sinking in. Ari got into questionable stuff, the smith knew that, but what Ari was doing specifically, and what… Well, whatever else was going on in what Ari was doing, those didn’t need to be things that were one in the same. Finally, a hand fished out a bottle of pills, and Aspel began to work at opening them. “When was the last time you took pain killers?” “Something objectionable,” Ari said with a sigh. “At that moment, mostly running. No, they didn’t see my face. Well, they saw a face,” she added after a moment, thinking of the thick brows, pale wig, and oversized hooked nose she had donned for the occasion, “but not mine. And I don’t know -- a few hours?” She shrugged her shoulders slightly, clearly just a bit out of it even now. Fortunately for everyone, Cormac made good painkillers (and was apparently quite skilled at keeping his mouth shut; in any case, no one else had expressed concern in going to him, and she hadn’t exactly been in a place to argue or worry about much at the time). Aspel couldn’t hold back a heavy sigh of her own, and a knitting of brows at the answers given. Though, with the idea that it had only been a few hours since Ari’s last dose, the smith stopped working at opening the container and placed it on the nightstand by the bed. Why Ari did the things she did, Aspel hadn’t a clue, though at the same time, when Aspel had been Ari’s age she had been running around with a group of vigilantes doing whatever they considered right, and constantly throwing herself in harms way both physically, and emotionally from being so painfully, openly, Fell with… Well, that was a different lifetime ago. Twenty-six was still an age that was young enough to be embroiled in all sorts of stupid affairs, and think they were the best things ever. “Good.” Was all that was managed as Aspel looked over Ari again, the displeasure beginning to fade into worry. “And the last time you ate?” “Aud gave me something,” Ari said. “Around the time I took the medicine, I suppose.” She frowned. “I’m sorry I forgot about our plans. I don’t usually forget things like that.” And an evening out with Aspel would have been wonderfully pleasant, if only the thought of walking didn’t hurt all on its own. There was a faint huff, and a low unidentifiable mutter, words from the region of Kerwon where Aspel was raised in before the rigidness in her posture, and frown on her face finally fully disappeared. “I am less concerned regarding our plans, and more concerned regarding you.” Somewhere in the back of her mind - regardless of how nonsensical it was - Aspel felt like she had somehow failed in her vows to keep Ari safe from falls. It was an unneeded guilt, but somehow, it still managed to be there. “It would be unbefitting for me to be impeached from office for beheading someone.” As miserable as she felt, that statement got a brief (if rather weak) laugh out of Ari. “Yes,” she said, “let’s not have you do that. I don’t actually know if I could break you out of gaol; I’ve never tried it.” And hopefully would never need to. It took a moment for her muddled brain to think of it before she reached out her hand to try and catch one of Aspel’s. “I’m sorry, anyway.” Then, quietly, “Thank you for worrying.” A pause. “I’m sorry for worrying you. This sort of thing… doesn’t usually happen to me.” Though between that incident with Jareth and now this, she didn’t know if Aspel would believe her at her word, either. Maybe she was taking on a bit too much, or maybe Aud was right, and Miles’ plans had outgrown practicality… But they had succeeded, and thumbed their noses at the event organizers, who likely still had no idea the burglary had been anything but fumbled... “It is unlikely they could get me there unless I allowed it.” Which, with the Dark and Dullahan it was… A sort of disturbingly true statement of sorts. Though, if she did not allow for her own arrest, then the smith would need to flee the city which… She had a strange inkling that none of them would have a preference for that at all. Aspel’s mouth twitched slightly into a deeper frown, but it seemed more unsure than anything else. “Even the best fall.” Her own life was a testament to that many times over, much to her dismay. A beat of silence was allowed, and Aspel threaded her fingers through Ari’s. “Are you hungry?” Ari thought of arguing: I’m not the best, and I have no aim to be the best, but that seemed almost counterproductive, so she thought about the question instead. “Not very,” she responded at last. “Although… I would kill -- metaphorically,” she added quickly, thinking of how very literally Aspel had probably meant her earlier words -- “for some coffee. Perhaps it will wake me up properly; everything is still hazy. Whatever potion I got, it’s a good one.” “Mm.” Aspel’s grip tightened a bit, the weird guilt beginning to transform into an odd sort of ‘what if’ based panic that she would do her very best to never allow to be seen. A slight nod was offered. “Are the appropriate items in their common locales?” Hopefully, even with the haze Ari could recall at least that. “Unless Aud moved something,” Ari replied. “Generally, she doesn’t.” The ninja was at home in this kitchen -- probably more so than in her own kitchen, which was the domain of servants. Before her train of thought could meander too far off track, Ari pulled herself back into the moment. “Come here,” she said, tugging down on Aspel’s hand rather insistently, hoping the other woman would willingly play along and grant her the kiss she was so very clearly requesting. She didn’t say that she wanted comfort, but in the end, that was what it was -- she had been hurt and very frightened and in the instants before she’d dropped out of consciousness entirely, she’d worried… No, no need to worry about things that hadn’t happened. That wasn’t like her at all. “Understood.” A slight nod was offered, and a squeeze was given to Ari’s hand as Aspel shifted, going to move away until feeling a tug at her arm. Stopping, her glance was cast back, an eyebrow raised with a closed mouth ‘Mm?’ being earned. Though, it would only take a moment to catch on, the bag being placed down off to her side as the smith leaned in, press a gentle kiss to Ari’s lips before her other hand came up to cradle the bard’s cheek. When the kiss broke, Aspel remained hovered there eyes closed, and hand still pressed carefully to the side of Ari’s face. “Do not scare me like that.” The words were soft, as her voice edged on cracking while she spoke. There was a fear there, regardless of how restrained it was, but even the idea….. No. It was too hard to bare. Maybe sometime in their convoluted past, Ari could have laughed it off. It’s just a bullet, you’ve encountered those or the only thing wrong with me is caffeine deprivation or even, I’ll be dancing again in no time. She didn’t like to take things seriously, most especially when they concerned her own fallibility or mortality, but the gravity in Aspel’s voice was hard to ignore. And if she tried to be fair, she could relate to the feelings the other woman may be experiencing. Perhaps. Possibly. They didn’t talk about feelings, not them, not ever. “I will try not to,” she promised at last. It was the best, most honest promise she could think to make. She weighed her next words as carefully as she could but in the end, the medicine was still making her head a bit fuzzy, and Aspel’s hand was warm in hers, and… “Now you know how I feel... every time I arrive to see you’ve broken yourself.” “One does not date a bard and expect to hear of them being shot.” Were the first words out of Aspel’s mouth, even if she regretted them almost instantly…. On so many different levels it nearly made her head spin. It was better not to think of all of that. Though… Another soft kiss was given to Ari before Aspel shifted back, coming to kneel next to the bed while still holding the other woman’s hand. “It is…” A dozen options what words to speak next spun about her head. “An unfortunate necessity of the job I fear.” A pause as Aspel’s eyes shifted, falling away. “And as most lives are of more worth than my own, it seems a reasonable cost to bear.” One does not -- It was a testament to how much time Ari had spent thinking about things (though she said little) that the mention of a word such as dating (innocuous for some, but never for her) only brought a brief moment of queasiness. “I find it varies from bard to bard.” There was much she could not say about her guild, but this much she thought she could utter with relative impunity. “Some of us lead a very colorful existence.” At Aspel’s next words, though, Ari’s hand gripped right, as if to stop them from coming out. Not that it would help, of course. “I don’t agree with you at all,” she finally said, fighting past a sudden lump in her throat. “You are worth… far more than that.” To me, you are worth more than almost anything. “Even if you don’t see it, I wish you’d remember it. It’s true.” Once again all Aspel could find within herself for a response was a heavy sigh, and another soft squeeze of Ari’s hand was given. The lives of bards… Well. Maybe that ought to be a topic for another time, if it was ever broached at all. They all had their secrets, and sometimes those things were best left in the dark. Though at the rather strong words from Ari, Aspel’s brow furrowed, a definite lack of understanding the bard’s perspective written across her face. There were a great many lives that were fundamentally, and consistently worth far more than hers this was a fact she’d come to accept long ago. The best she could do in the end was offer a saddened smile. “I am not sure how you perceive this to be true, but I respect your views.” Another squeeze was given to Ari’s hand as Aspel shifted, moving to stand. “Coffee, no?” Ari gripped the other woman’s hand tightly, preventing her from going, as she said, “I wish you wouldn’t brush me off like that.” Even if Aspel, in all her idiotic self-sacrificing glory, probably didn’t realize she was doing exactly that. “That’s all right,” she decided, and maybe the pain medication was making her brave, or maybe she just wasn’t as careful anymore as she had been, because she added, “I’ll keep telling you until you give up and decide to believe me.” She released Aspel’s hand only then, her own hands linking in her lap, eyes focused there instead of on Aspel’s face. “Coffee would be lovely.” “Brush you…” The murmured confused words mixed with a questioning tone, but both died in her throat as eyes shifted back to look over Ari, seeing the…. Seriousness of the statement on the other woman’s face. “My apologies.” Even those two words came out low, a slight bow of her head being offered to the bard to accompany the apology. The smith still hadn’t the foggiest of what was going on, of…. Well, much of anything right now, other than Ari was hurt, and they were talking about… Feelings… and…. Well, that was just it, wasn’t it? Another soft sigh, and bow of her head was granted. “As you wish.” At this point, she really felt as though there was nothing more she could say, at least… Not yet. A quick squeeze was attempted as Ari’s hand fell from hers, and Aspel’s face twisted up a bit, unsure of exactly what to say, but… When there was nothing to say, there was always something to do, and right now, that thing was to make coffee. With that though, Aspel retrieved a bag from the floor, and headed towards the kitchen to start the coffee, and rustle about the kitchen as put away the groceries that were in need of it. Someday, Ari thought as Aspel retreated to the kitchen, maybe these sorts of things wouldn’t be so awkward. It would be nice not to feel as though she was walking blindfolded on eggshells, but what could she do? Too much honesty was a one-way ticket to massive discomfort for both of them. She thought she might have some idea of Aspel’s feelings on the matter without them being voiced, anyway (and that was terrifying enough in and of itself; best not to dwell on it now) but… maybe they ought to stick to lighter things for now. Like gunshot wounds and coffee. At least, she reasoned, they were unlikely ever to be boring. |