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Johann doesn't say much after Archer's lesson. There's plenty to process through and he doesn't anticipate that he'll be listened to right away. He goes through the motions of that afternoon, distracted by the memory of fire in Florian's eyes, that longing that he felt. But that evening, after they've eaten, he finally speaks up.
"So what was all that? With your - sensual hand touch?" he mutters, puttering around the sitting room. He's not cleaning as much as he is simply moving things from one place to another.
"So what was all that? With your - sensual hand touch?" he mutters, puttering around the sitting room. He's not cleaning as much as he is simply moving things from one place to another.
I apologize, and I will not bother you if you come to the chapel again.
Good afternoon.
I trust you’re well following our first lesson?
I trust you’re well following our first lesson?
[ Dorian's sitting on a chaise-lounge in his room, sighing dramatically before admitting to the camera, ]
Right. This is a very big thing for me to say so I hope you understand the gravity of this and that it will never happen again. But I'm sorry I was a complete cunt to you before the flood. You're not that bad, Florian.
[ It only took one flood and copious amounts of alcohol to realize that! ]
Right. This is a very big thing for me to say so I hope you understand the gravity of this and that it will never happen again. But I'm sorry I was a complete cunt to you before the flood. You're not that bad, Florian.
[ It only took one flood and copious amounts of alcohol to realize that! ]
Johann's awake early.
Or, more accurately, he never actually went to sleep. Too much to think about and an aching boredom that soaks through his bones steals his dreams away. He's been on the ship too long. He's been doing the same thing for too long. It takes too much out of him.
He finally gives up and crawls out of their bed, throwing on a pair of pants and retreating into the sitting room. He adds wood to the fireplace and retrieves an unlit candle, trying to focus on actually using his newfound magic in an attempt to stave off the looming restlessness.
Or, more accurately, he never actually went to sleep. Too much to think about and an aching boredom that soaks through his bones steals his dreams away. He's been on the ship too long. He's been doing the same thing for too long. It takes too much out of him.
He finally gives up and crawls out of their bed, throwing on a pair of pants and retreating into the sitting room. He adds wood to the fireplace and retrieves an unlit candle, trying to focus on actually using his newfound magic in an attempt to stave off the looming restlessness.
Hello, Florian.
Archer told me what happened with Henry.
Archer told me what happened with Henry.
[Xie Lian looks a lot more concerned than he had when he'd contacted Florian to talk about the trouble with Henry. Also more concerned than he'd looked during any part of their conversation.]
Good evening, Florian.
Trevor just contacted me.
Good evening, Florian.
Trevor just contacted me.
Johann wakes at his normal time and slides out of bed to get dressed. He would normally go out for biscuits and coffee, but he doesn't return for a while. Not long enough to be worrisome, but long enough that Florian might notice if he was awake.
When he returns, however, it's with a tray that he rather clumsily uses to push open the door as he stumbles inside, muttering about 'that fucking Dorian.'
The tray is placed with a bit of a clatter on the table - fried eggs and toast with jam. He does include coffee, of course, and his normal biscuits, just in case the eggs are hideous. And, while that is a possibility, he did his damn best with them and had to bin a few before he got them just right.
He heats up water for a proper tea, kicking a few coals back into the fire.
When he returns, however, it's with a tray that he rather clumsily uses to push open the door as he stumbles inside, muttering about 'that fucking Dorian.'
The tray is placed with a bit of a clatter on the table - fried eggs and toast with jam. He does include coffee, of course, and his normal biscuits, just in case the eggs are hideous. And, while that is a possibility, he did his damn best with them and had to bin a few before he got them just right.
He heats up water for a proper tea, kicking a few coals back into the fire.
[ If she's not mistaken, the challenge was for her to do something a little haughty and self-serving. Her interest in the concept has other components more intimate to her opportunities for self-expression... but two things can be true at once. She can be both uncertain of this new vision and radiantly confident in it; all dark green velvet draped in wildflowers. ]
Have I done well?
Have I done well?
Ordinarily, this would be the part where I say that I’m back - but I suppose the Admiral already made that clear.
Would you like to come by for some tea later?
Would you like to come by for some tea later?
During Florian's talk with Archer, Johann went out, distracting himself in the library or on deck. But he eventually returns and drapes himself rather splendidly, and somewhat dramatically, on the couch to wait out the rest of the time.
He isn't quite asleep when he hears footsteps outside the door.
He isn't quite asleep when he hears footsteps outside the door.
He wakes up...
His eyes don't flutter and his body doesn't shift; he remembers those days, alone in the house, alone with his family slowly rotting away. He remembers the childish plans he'd had: maybe he should play dead so they wouldn't kill him on sight. But no, no of course that wouldn't work: he wasn't rotted and bloated and awful like the rest of them. There'd been half a thought to take some of the vileness and slather it on his skin in places, but even though he'd somehow survived in that house as long as he had, it seemed like tempting fate.
Besides, his eyes would probably water long before he could slip away.
The plan had evolved and shifted and changed as he'd observed out of the very top windows of the manor, as he'd watched the city devolve and destroy itself and caught the wind with his fingers to give him the news of what was happening. He was never very good at it, but it was enough in those days. That's how he'd walked out of the house, not sobbing, not begging, not heartbroken... but quiet. Wary. And more than willing to bend everyone he needed to for his needs.
It was a long time ago, and it's strange what memories float to the surface when one wants to focus on anything but pain. Because there is ever so much lot of pain right now, his whole body wracked with it. This isn't entirely new: he's always been frail and F... -she had always wanted to adventure regardless and he had gone with her. His first inklings of being a doctor had started with the empathy from a sick child (himself) before the whole idea had been mashed to paste.
But this is more pain than usual. And his stomach is revolting at the same time, how delightful. The only balm to his soul and body is the soft curled up circle of fur at his side, and he lets his fingers drift into the softness as he finally does move.
He knows where he must be if she's here, after all. But he wants to know where Archer is. Archer, and Johann. A moment of searching, not with his eyes or by moving his head and-
"Guten... whenever, Herr Archer. My... apologies."
His eyes don't flutter and his body doesn't shift; he remembers those days, alone in the house, alone with his family slowly rotting away. He remembers the childish plans he'd had: maybe he should play dead so they wouldn't kill him on sight. But no, no of course that wouldn't work: he wasn't rotted and bloated and awful like the rest of them. There'd been half a thought to take some of the vileness and slather it on his skin in places, but even though he'd somehow survived in that house as long as he had, it seemed like tempting fate.
Besides, his eyes would probably water long before he could slip away.
The plan had evolved and shifted and changed as he'd observed out of the very top windows of the manor, as he'd watched the city devolve and destroy itself and caught the wind with his fingers to give him the news of what was happening. He was never very good at it, but it was enough in those days. That's how he'd walked out of the house, not sobbing, not begging, not heartbroken... but quiet. Wary. And more than willing to bend everyone he needed to for his needs.
It was a long time ago, and it's strange what memories float to the surface when one wants to focus on anything but pain. Because there is ever so much lot of pain right now, his whole body wracked with it. This isn't entirely new: he's always been frail and F... -she had always wanted to adventure regardless and he had gone with her. His first inklings of being a doctor had started with the empathy from a sick child (himself) before the whole idea had been mashed to paste.
But this is more pain than usual. And his stomach is revolting at the same time, how delightful. The only balm to his soul and body is the soft curled up circle of fur at his side, and he lets his fingers drift into the softness as he finally does move.
He knows where he must be if she's here, after all. But he wants to know where Archer is. Archer, and Johann. A moment of searching, not with his eyes or by moving his head and-
"Guten... whenever, Herr Archer. My... apologies."
Edited 2023-08-09 01:02 (UTC)
Johann gets past Archer, noting that if looks could kill, but he's on a bit of a mission.
He stands in the doorway, not crossing the threshold, and waits for Florian to wake. "Take it off," he demands firmly. "I won't touch you, but take it off."
He stands in the doorway, not crossing the threshold, and waits for Florian to wake. "Take it off," he demands firmly. "I won't touch you, but take it off."
I’m sure you already know this, but I’m fairly certain you can expect any number of stupid questions from this point forward.
I apologize for the surprise the other night.
I was going to tell you I had company.
I was going to tell you I had company.
How is Johann handling the news?
[After this disaster.]
Johann is still limping as he opens the door to his cabin and calls out.
"Florian!"
He is bloody, though seemingly uninjured. His coat is torn and black bloody at the sleeve, there's deep blood in his hair and dripping down his face, where it's met with specks of brighter red.
He limps to the couch and collapses onto it with a groan.
Johann is still limping as he opens the door to his cabin and calls out.
"Florian!"
He is bloody, though seemingly uninjured. His coat is torn and black bloody at the sleeve, there's deep blood in his hair and dripping down his face, where it's met with specks of brighter red.
He limps to the couch and collapses onto it with a groan.
Has Johann settled?
[ Which is Archer-speak for ‘is he all right now?’, but of course, it comes out not quite like that. ]
[ Which is Archer-speak for ‘is he all right now?’, but of course, it comes out not quite like that. ]
[Xie Lian had seen a certain bear charging along the hallways, but he hadn't judged it to be a matter of any particular danger. Ah, the adventures of young love. So his usual gentle smile has a touch of additional humor to it.]
Hello, Florian. Have you had an exciting day?
Hello, Florian. Have you had an exciting day?
Johann needs a book from the library. A specific sort of cookbook. He knows the name of it. He knows the author. He knows what it looks like. He also knows that he hid it in the library, on the top shelf.
He had sent a message to Florian, asking if he could retrieve it for him when his shift was over, hoping that it would buy him a few more minutes of preparation in their cabin. The stew is done. The biscuits are done. His clothes are returned, cleaned and pressed and folded. Johann's even added a few pieces here and there to round out the set.
He's not looking for praise; he's simply wanting to do what Trevor suggested. Show Florian that he's grateful. Be thankful. Do something to show that he's appreciated because Johann knows he's been working.
He had sent a message to Florian, asking if he could retrieve it for him when his shift was over, hoping that it would buy him a few more minutes of preparation in their cabin. The stew is done. The biscuits are done. His clothes are returned, cleaned and pressed and folded. Johann's even added a few pieces here and there to round out the set.
He's not looking for praise; he's simply wanting to do what Trevor suggested. Show Florian that he's grateful. Be thankful. Do something to show that he's appreciated because Johann knows he's been working.
The ship is saturated with curses.
Are you affected?
Are you affected?
Edited 2023-10-18 03:14 (UTC)
I have been ordered to rest for the next few days.
If you have time to stop by, I would like to see you.
If you have time to stop by, I would like to see you.
[ HE DOESN'T MEAN TO SOUND FATIGUED, but boy is he. This emotional maturity and growth shit is fucking tiring okay. ]
I owe you an apology for how I spoke to you yesterday. I've... had a number of people in my life who were never happy with me unless I was doing things in a very specific way that half the time they never bothered explaining, and sometimes in ways that contradicted what they got angry with me for not doing before. I'm not--
[He stops, makes a quietly frustrated sound because he doesn't like being this frank about it, but.] I'm not good at having real, personal relationships without that expectation bracing me for a fight. Which I guess I didn't really realize until now.
I owe you an apology for how I spoke to you yesterday. I've... had a number of people in my life who were never happy with me unless I was doing things in a very specific way that half the time they never bothered explaining, and sometimes in ways that contradicted what they got angry with me for not doing before. I'm not--
[He stops, makes a quietly frustrated sound because he doesn't like being this frank about it, but.] I'm not good at having real, personal relationships without that expectation bracing me for a fight. Which I guess I didn't really realize until now.
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