exsiliumlogs | a congregation of exorcists

[ He has plenty of opinions on the recently passed event, though most of which falls under the category of threats and insults because that is simply the natural reaction to such things. With Lavi unconscious, and thoughts unvoiced, there was no other option but to bring the bastard to the hospital.

And stay, though it could be argued that he didn't have to.

He stayed regardless, intending to keep watch ( Noahs aren't supposed to be trusted, right? ). Though if asked for a reason on his presence, he'd simply say that he had nothing better to do. Or maybe that someone had to make sure the moron wakes up - though that girl Collette seemed to be much more well versed in that sort of sensitive, caring thing. Kanda, on the other hand, hasn't heard of that.

So he just stays. Because that was the only option that passed his brain, and he is nothing if not impulsive.

He is seated in a chair a short ways from the bed, Mugen leaning by his side ( for a quick grasp, if necessary ), and his head tipped back against the wall. When Lavi stirs his own eyes blink open from brief meditation ( staring at a white wall got too boring, really ), and he's turning his attention, along with a habitually sharp, and level gaze ( and if one squints, with that surprising tinge of quick concern), to the other exorcist. A beat, before offering a clipped: ] Finally.

[ 'Hey you're alive! That's good.' is too long to say, obviously. ]

[Allen arrives a little late, after hearing where Lavi'd landed himself (again.) But all he knows is that Lavi was hurt - or sick? - so he wasn't sure what to expect, upon entering the room.

Definitely not Tyki goddamn Mikk.

He recoils when he sees him, heart pounding, but the unwelcome shock of finding an enemy in a friend's hospital room is matched by his confusion when he notices everyone else's reaction. Or lack thereof. Lavi's awake, Kanda's sitting by with Mugen, just letting Tyki exist...

What the hell.]

What happened!?

[ If it was entirely up to Kanda, Tyki wouldn't be simply existing. It was something of a personal accomplishment, that he hasn't tried to skewer the Noah thus far. Though by the glares tossed the bastards way? He was certainly thinking about it.

Then Allen is appearing and he's reluctantly turning his head away from the Noah's general direction, to instead aim a sharp look the other exorcist's way.

Well. Kanda isn't the best one to ask for explanations. Not to mention he's even more unwilling to openly talk about the occurred in front of the enemy. Even though said enemy was there in the first place. ] Beansprout.

[ A weak sort of greeting, calm, level and indifferent in contrast to Allen's quick and earnest emotions. Then a sigh. ] . . .

I can't kill it. [ Him but. Sorry not sorry, Tyki. ] The unconscious idiot made a deal with him. [ A pause, as his scowl twists with increasing animosity. ] That was the only way he could've been saved, apparently.

[ That remark is presented with a heavy grain of salt, naturally. ]

( Collette had needed to be slower than the rest. When Lavi had passed out, and his care had needed to be passed on to the people who could physically handle it, she'd done what she could. Her breathing had only started to regularize because of the down time waiting for Tyki to do as he would; getting Lavi to the hospital had taken up the last of whatever reserves she had.

Asking for a second blanket, she'd confiscated a chair and then toweled off in his tiny bathroom, knowing she'd be -- well. She'd be as wet as she was as Caesar.

With all that done, she plops down in the chair, heart pounding as she realizes how close she's cutting it. When she demorphs, it's just there in the open. Caesar's features bleed and shift and mold into Collette's. It's only fast by merit of being the same species; red hair becomes black, long and wavy, green eyes turn to deep browns, and fair skin darkens.

She hopes no one had time to watch her, or was paying attention, but she's so tired it's difficult to care at first, and as time stretches on, the quiet way she'd done so meant she'd mostly succeeded in drawing no extra attention to herself. )

You awake over there?

( She asks eventually, though it's a redundancy next to knowing Lavi was; she wheels closer with an effort that she ignores as being taxing. She's tired. That's all. )

[ To say Lavi was tired too would be an understatement of the year. A bone deep exhaustion had taken hold of him and it was hard to recall any other time he felt this spent. Probably not that surprising. The entire ordeal and the talking after hadn't just been physically draining, but also emotionally as well. Still, despite being so exhausted, he was having trouble going back to the land of the blissfully unconscious. Perhaps this is what people meant by being too tired to even sleep.

Instead he meditates. Or rather, tries to as a way to distance himself from everything until he falls asleep. So by the time Collette approaches, he's still very much awake. Her voice prompting him to open his eye and push himself into a sitting position (with some effort, but after everything she'd done for him, that was the least he could do.)

He even manages to muster a sincere smile. ]

Hey, if it isn't my hero. Sorry 'bout all that. [ And he means that. He truly is. ]

( She snorts, a soft sound of amusement scoffing at his funny joke -- she's not a hero, but she likes that he called her one. She's a friend. Friends help each other, that was that. )

Hey. ( She smiles in response, leaning on her left elbow. ) You didn't need to sit up, you know.

( It's not like they haven't talked across hospital beds before. It's a strange sort of familiar comradere, even if most her roommates in the past have been the same sex. )

Are you more up for talking, or being talked to?

( She has countless questions, and while usually she pursues that nigh on relentlessly, it's important to her now to not press yet. Much like watching Caesar recuperate, the most important part was seeing the other person be okay, then tracking down the answers (and the stories!) after the fact. )

[ He feels like he should stay sitting up because it's more proper, but her words are very tempting. Especially so because sitting up straight makes him feel woozy. It takes only a brief internal debate before he's flopping back down, rolling onto his side to face her. It's nothing new to them and he's more at face level with her this way anyway. So that's his reply, along with a small grateful smile.

He lets one hand dangle over the bed slightly, there should she want to take it. (Lenalee would want to and he's used to her and her fussy fingers always providing reassuring little touches.) He finds himself feeling grateful, overwhelmingly so. For what she'd done and what she continues to do with her presence and an offer of choice. Honestly, he remembers he thought it might be easier not to grow attached to people in a new place like Exsilium.

He'd been wrong.

As much as he wants to say "being talked to" he owes her answers and it's best to get that out of the way first. ]

You've got a lot of questions, yeah? It's okay, fire away.

[ Because in his tired mind he's not even sure where to start. ]

( She considers his hand for a moment from peripheral vision; she can be much more subtle than she wants most to believe when she wants. It's part of what goes with having an outwardly easygoing manner that truly did extend inward. She observed a lot, stuck her nose into everything, and did her best to hold no grudges. The bright side was what was worth living for, not the unfairness and the pain and the darkness.

In no small part because only on the bright side did extreme anythings seem like a good idea, and she sure loved those physical extremes! )

You sure? I mean, I'm happy to ask, but I don't want to wear you out too soon. That's poor manners!

( She reaches out casually, sliding her hand up under the fingers he has trailing over the edge. Reassurance for Collette was equal parts physicality and verbality. One without the other was an incomplete imagining.

She runs her thumb lightly over the tops of his fingers. There are questions she knows she'll ask without the sensitivity she should probably have. Thus when she offers a squeeze to his hand a moment later, it's a prelude apology to invasive, perhaps too blunt questions asked by someone who knows better enough to be aware of what she says, and still be saying it anyway. )

Lenalee's told me some about your world, and what the Exorcists fight.

( It's a last chance to say no, maybe later. She's tired enough not to press if his answer is along those lines, but she'll find herself roused by curiosity alone if he decides to actually answer. Stories were one of her weaknesses.

She'd believe, and she'd believe wholeheartedly. That, too, was one of her weaknesses. )

Edited 2013-07-20 05:30 (UTC)

It's fine, I can't sleep anyway.

[ He's a physical person himself, knowing that touch is a way to get people to open up, but what started out of necessity had become second nature. People always responded to friendly touches in reactive ways, whether negative or positive didn't even matter. It's human nature to respond. He's always kept his touches casual, an arm around the shoulder here and a hair ruffle there, invasions of personal space to the point of annoying. It's casual because anything else would be too much that he can't afford, he's only human too in the end. But somewhere along the way the line he'd drawn had started blurring, somewhere between hugs from trusting Finder boys and dainty fingers curling in sleeves that his hand fit over perfectly. It couldn't be helped.

His fingers curl lightly around hers automatically, silent acceptance of the touch. It is comforting, perhaps more than it should be, and the way she runs her thumb over his fingers makes him want to close his eye and drift off. But no, he'd vowed to give her answers, even if that was only in his head. After being put through all that, she deserved that much.

The fact that Lenalee's already told her some helps and he doesn't see much harm in telling when that particular war was a world away. Plus he's a blabbermouth by nature, he would've ended up telling her sooner or later.

He returns the squeeze and briefly closes his eye, almost as if to steel himself, before opening it again with a look of weary determination. It's alright. ]

Did she tell you about the Millennium Earl and his Akuma? Or Noah too?

( She can understand not being able to sleep. After a fear that great coursing through one's system, following the kind of realities people preferred to stay in stories and off the big screen of their life, she imagines it must be hard to truly rest, no matter who's watching after you. It'd been the same for her after Nightcap's attack, under the watchful eyes of the ever vigilant Drift, and Caesar's often napping presence.

It'd been reassuring, but most the sleep she had was from exhaustion, not easy choice.

Collette runs her thumb across his fingers with the same lightness again, three times, then stops -- once his eyes reopen. Or eye. It's still funny seeing an eyepatch be so much of someone's face when there's no indication that's it's coming off later. One of the countless not-so-oddities of the Transports pulled into this world. )

A little. The Millennium Earl guy preys on the grieving to get them agree to saying they want someone back from the dead, and so he brings something back, only it's not them, and it's under his control. The akuma? Something like that.

( Lenalee hadn't gone into great detail, and she herself was fuzzy on the details, still tired from the illness at that point. The other girl's presence had been a different sort of balm. Collette missed Kelly, missed any of the girls her age she used to know. It'd been nice just to be around someone like that again, in more than casual contact.

Or... yeah. She knows Maya, but Maya flitted in and out of everyone's lives like such a vibrant, bizarre butterfly, it was hard to pin her down. )

Noah just reminds me of the Arc, out of the Bible. All that rain and the great flood.

( The death of dragons, part of her quips, ones we're brought right on back here and now. )

[ It's not quite fear that keeps him awake. He has come close to dying enough times that the fear, although always there on base instinct like most people, wasn't that unsettling anymore. It's not death that he fears, but the unknown. Right now that unknown came in the form of a previous apprentice of Bookman's he knew nothing about. How much more has Bookman kept from him? It's only natural that he does keep things to himself, such is the nature of a Bookman, but there were certain things Lavi deserved to know as a successor. Like any previous alliances to the Noah.

Apparently the Old Panda didn't seem to think so.

These were the thoughts keeping him from sleep and although he's not escaping the subject in the current conversation, it at least gives him something else to focus on: explaining. ]

That's right, Akuma are killing machines born from tragedies. The person calling back the departed soul gets killed and their skin worn as a disguise for that Akuma. They're terrible creatures.

[ He doesn't go into the gruesome details of it entirely, but he's not shielding her from how horrible it is either. It's a taste of what their lives as exorcists are like, filled with horror and tragedy.

He takes a deep breath, voice losing it's usual lilt more and more, making him sound uncharacteristically serious. He's too tired to even keep the pretense up, but considering the subject, a light tone would be out of place anyway. ]

As for the Noah, that's exactly the Noah I meant. The story goes that seven thousand years ago the Noah fought the first Innocence users in a battle that destroyed everything and that's what became known as the Great Flood. [ A beat. ] Ah, us exorcists are Innocence users too, by the way. It's the substance our weapons are made of, like my hammer.

Anyway, there are fourteen Noah — the Earl is one of them, as is Tyki Mikk — and throughout history they keep reappearing, hating humanity and wanting to destroy it. Obviously they're bad news. Now that all of them have reappeared, the war continues. [ The last three words are spoken with infinite weariness unlikely for someone his age. A crack in his mask. ]

( That's a vicious cycle she does her best to make some little sense about. The Earl manipulated people in a horrible way that perverted everything they wished for, killed them, turned what they wanted to do into a joke. One they died for, if they didn't kill others over it along the way.

And then it tied in biblically, which was weird in a whole different way, though not uncommon across Earths. (Biblical somethings, not so much the Noah.) )

Where'd they come from, that they hate humanity so much? The Noah, I mean.

( One small point of clarity when she has so much more to ask. She's accepting all of this as true.

It makes reactions to Tyki make sense, and so she stores that information away for later processing. )

Have they always been the same fourteen, or do they change at all over time?

[ He can only shrug and smile wryly at that question. ]

Who knows.

[ It's a good question and only natural that she asks it, but for all his considerable knowledge he has no answer for her. The other question, however, is much easier to answer. ]

From what I understand, they're the same, but they reappear in different bodies. All humans are the descendants from Noah and some have something called a Noah gene. Once that gene awakens, the Noah side takes over. Kind of like reincarnation, but crueler.

[ It's a fate that awaits Allen, a thought that makes his stomach twist in knots. There's nothing he could do about it, here or otherwise. ]

I wonder what Darwin would have to say about that... Or evolutionary biology.

( It's a joke Lavi won't be able to get, and she offers him a small smile, processing what he's said. It's The Truth as far as she can regard it, in relation to his world, and as The Truth she takes it at face value.

People came from Noah. Noah genes are carried repressed until awoken. Then human becomes Noah.

What a frightening, literal thought. )

Bloodlines. Do Noah ever have kids, then? How does it pass on? I mean, if it's actually genetics...

( No offense, Lavi, but she's not sure what passes as an understanding of genetics for you. )

Or if everyone has the gene, couldn't it keep awaking if you take a Noah out? Just activates in the next person it can?

( But ah -- she gives a small shake of her head. )

Where do you fit into this? I know you're an Exorcist, but Bookman Jr? Who's Bookman senior? That sounds like a whole other title.

( Give her a while to make the joke about this hammer being Innocence incarnate. )

[ Yeah, he doesn't get it. That much is obvious in the way he raises an eyebrow and tilts his head into the pillow quizzically. He's too tired to ask though, so he doesn't. He just files the name away as something to potentially look up in the library sometime. ]

No, I don't think they have kids. It might just be in all of us even, I'm not sure how they're chosen. It just . . . happens.

[ That sort of seems to be the case with Allen. One day an Exorcist, next a Noah. Except cross had known, hadn't he? ]

But yeah, when they're killed the gene just reawakens in the next person.

[ Did they even have any hope of winning the war? Probably not. It's something he's been realizing more and more.

And of course she would ask about Bookman. The Old Panda would object to Lavi revealing anything ("Only Bookman can reveal information about Bookman." ) but too bad, Bookman isn't here to shut him up. It's not like the purpose of the Bookman clan was that much of a secret anyway. His tone lightens slightly. ]

Oh, that? I belong to the Bookman clan. Bookman senior is— well, Bookman. I'm his apprentice. Our purpose is to observe and record "secret" history. We're like traveling historians, yeah?

Woah. ( Woah is an understatement. She looks perturbed, glances down, rubs her thumb over his knuckles again. ) Can they be contained?

( It all sounds cruel. They're both part of and related to each other. Family feuds were the worst, especially with random Biblical leanings. )

This is all pretty Old Testament, you know? How do you guys like... deal with the idea of Jesus Christ? Who was he supposed to be in your -- uh. Order?

( It's the most prominent figure of Christianity she knows, and while part of her remembers learning that the Old Testament comes out of the Jewish faith and the Torah, and is related to the Islamic faith as well, the Order thus far seems more Christian than the rest. Which is weird and something she's uninformed on in specifics, but knowledgeable in generalities. As it invades so many levels of American culture, it's not too surprising.

So of course, expect her to ask the insensitive questions. )

Or angels. Where do angels fit in?

( His description of the Bookman clan and it's purpose earns an almost automatic question: )

What, like the losing sides?

( Oh. Oh, she bites down on her lip and looks up toward the ceiling. Not quite what she'd meant to say there, but a secret history to her first relates to a lost history, rather than a conspiracy through time and the ages. )

Um, right, is that why you're with the Order? I kinda doubt everyone on your Earth knows about the Noah. It probably makes people easier to trick, in a way, but it keeps them from being afraid of like, fourteen people all their lives. I guess.

( Secret invasions going on for longer than anyone wanted to believe. Hidden inside normal seeming people.

Where's she heard that before? )

I know. [ He states simply, hand relaxing under her ministrations. He knows all the stories, all the religions, by heart because it's woven through history so tightly there's no way he couldn't have learned about it all. The Order too was made up out of different ones, an inevitable fact when its members were so ethnically diverse. ]

Not that different from you, I imagine. They're all bible stories so I don't know.

[ He may be skimming over the question a little, but at least he's answering, right? The mention of angels brings back the wry smile. ]

If you want angels— well, the Level Four Akuma look a disturbing lot like them.

[ Horrible, grotesque abominations parading around in a mockery of the image. Still, the closest thing they had to the angels she's referring to.

As for losing sides . . . that actually gets a chuckle out of him, but he doesn't comment on it. Whatever side, really. Winning or losing didn't matter, it didn't affect them. They were just observers, moving from one place to the next, unattached.

Supposedly. ]

That's right, Akuma and Noah aren't things normal people know about. It's a secret war.

[ He moves his free hand to press a finger to his lips, an almost childlike shushing gesture with the way he does it. He manages a more proper smile, secretive but tinged with a weariness he can't hide. ]

That's why you can't tell anyone the things I just told you.

[ A lie. It didn't matter very much in this place, it's for her own safety more than anything. It's just Tyki now (and he doesn't want her anywhere near him to start with) but that was apt to change in this place. It could be the Earl next for all they know. ]

Uh-uh. No, you're not pulling this too. You're already a bad enough historian if you get caught up in the secret history you're writing about -- you know, since bad apparently means caring, and I'm tired of hearing that as it is! -- give be five good reasons why any one of us should sit on important information for safety and success of what we're doing here.

( She holds up her other hand, splaying all five fingers outward. )

You record secret history, yeah? So tell me how three hundred people who keep dangerous secrets for their own health save countless worlds when they can totally take each other down from the inside just because they didn't think anyone needed to know.

( She's tired enough to be rude: to remember being shot by Elza because Caesar kept his mouth shut: imagining what kind of idiocy would allow people to go ignorant of the things they should know in order to plan for and plan around.

Tyki's one man -- Noah -- figure out of another world's philosophy and reality. But like Arthas before him, like the dangers with Koltira, like that horrid woman who attacked her, like anything that has come out after the fact -- what does the silence really protect?

Outdated concepts of individual world security?

Laziness in maintaining what you always did without adapting to things you never expected?

She doesn't know. James would know, Caesar might, Jake would probably have an idea -- but Collette, simple, too chatty, nosy Collette, she hasn't a clue at all. )

[ Lavi finds himself blinking hard, her reaction catching him off guard. Her words sting ("caught up in the history you're writing about") but it's not something he can argue because it's true. So shock fades to anger before that too passes quickly. He doesn't have the energy to put the mask back in place, somehow joke his way out, so he shuts down instead.

He withdraws, both mentally and physically, pulling his hand away from hers to curl close to his body instead as his expression grows almost cold.

Telling her was a bad idea, but then telling anyone anything was always a bad idea. Humans. Except he owes her his life and he can't really get mad at her. She must have her reasons, but so does he.

He's not going to give her five, just one. One that to him is more important above all. ]

I'm asking you not to for the sake of protecting my comrades.

[ Not a lie. To a few among them Exorcists there were still only thirteen Noah instead of fourteen. He can't let Allen find out, lest the Fourteenth rears his head here too. He can't. He wants to keep that light alive for as long as possible.

But she has a point too, why keep it all to themselves? Why did Bookmen even exist? Questions he's asked himself before that he doesn't want to get into now. So he sighs, rolling onto his back with some wincing so he can stare at the ceiling instead of having to look at her. ]

There's enough war here already, we're not dragging ours into this.

( She's quiet. Watching the withdrawal, the emotions there are to read in his face, she knows she's pushed too far, really. Classic Collette, though what hurts most is the loss of contact, turning away.

Her fault, sure. She always says too much. )

Sorry.

( It's a small and quiet word, looking down at her hands where she collects them in her lap. Nervous fingers play with the fabric of the blanket there, an addition for warmth where everything is borrowed. Plucking, worrying at a string that's slowly coming more undone. )

They all know about the war. Your companions, I mean. Comrades, brothers and sister in arms. What are you protecting them from?

( All just as quiet, all said without looking his way. Regardless of what she feels, it's not entirely the priority.

She's just tired enough to feel the prick of hot tears in her eyes and blink, rapidly, willing them away. Now isn't the time. It's too convoluted to even explain why. )

[ The quiet apology comes as a small relief, taking it to mean she (hopefully) won't keep pushing because he doesn't think he can take much more of it without snapping. Not that he means to, but he's just so tired, his nerves already frayed by everything that's happened.

He has an easy reply for her question at least. ]

A divide we can't afford.

[ He doesn't explain how any of the seemingly straight-forward information he's offered can do that in the hope that maybe she will keep all of it to herself. That, and he's said far too much already. It's time to shut the hell up before he does any more damage, gets her too involved. She hopefully knows to stay away from Tyki now and that's enough.

With some reluctance he turns his head to look back to her and— is she . . .? ]

Collette?

[ Please don't tell him he made another girl cry again. ]

( It doesn't make any sense -- waht divide? If everyone knew, then why? Maybe she could ask Lenalee -- but that was also a cruel thought in its own way, and not one she can easily follow through on.

Though she might anyway. Dratted curiosity and an inability to stay out of other people's business.

He says her name, and she looks up, then down again, trying to sniff quietly -- her sinuses are already acting up. It's difficultto be surreptitious, but she tries. A quick rub at her eyes with the back of her right hand leaves her with watery eyes, but not overflowing ones. )

Yeah?

[ Crap.

This always happens and he doesn't know how it does each and every time. He frantically tries to think of what he might have said that could cause such a reaction, but with the lack of Bookman by his side to point it out to him (more like punch it into his head, really) he comes up empty. Although If Bookman were here he never would have gotten to spill so much in the first place.

He's instantly more alert, pushing himself up somewhat and reaching out before he stops himself, hand coming to awkwardly hover above her head with uncertainty. ]

Why are you— [ crying? Or sort of crying, almost crying, whichever! ]

Am I what?

( Her voice sounds tight, and she can't meet his eye -- blinking rapidly again, wanting all of these things to stop, to make sense, to not be scary and dangerous and outside of her realm of handling. To not make her friends feel bad, or to be rejected 'cause she said or did the stupid thing again. She's been trying hard to not be so bad at it. She's been trying hard to be honest.

She's still so young in so many ways...

Nash was right. She really didn't play the innocent act so well right in the moment where she was trying to play dumb.

Sniffing, she realizes she should have just gone for saying allergies. )

[ He can't help but sigh a little, because this was becoming far too common a recurrence and he hated it.

He has no idea how to deal with it, being reassuring or even considerate wasn't his exactly his strongest point, it required efforts beyond the superficial he usually gave. He'd apologize, but without even knowing what had caused her to start crying, that just seems meaningless to him. There's plenty of other things to apologize for that he can think of (getting her involved in this mess in the first place) but he's not sure if he should right now.

So, at a lack of knowing what else to do, he finally drops his hand on her head for some awkward patting. ]

Don't cry.

If it was that easy -- ( she says, rubbing at her eyes again with a short, thick huff of laughter ) -- do you really think I'd ever start when I don't want to?

[ He chuckles, soft and without any real mirth, and there's two more gentle pats before his hand stills on her head.

Maybe he should apologize. ]

I'm sorry for getting you caught up in all this.

( She lifts a hand to encircle his wrist, grip loose at first. )

No, don't be.

( When her grip tightens, it's enough to be firm, pulling his hand down off her head. He's not someone she sees as being so much older than her that she accepts it: she has a brother, and he falls short of that age gap, or the inherent tolerance she has for babying (regardless of what it really was). He's a peer, and not one who leads her. She respects him... as a friend, and as a whatevre all he is. Conflicted historian, apparently! )

It's better to tell me what's going on. I get into way more trouble trying to figure it out on my own.

( Not that she looks up, still trying to make her eyes dry. It's not working so great. She hates being tired. )

Just ask Caesar.

Edited 2013-07-30 19:14 (UTC)

[ He offers no resistance when she tugs at his wrist, letting her pull his hand away. Not everyone appreciated the touch, he knows, but it's the one that comes most naturally to him and he inflicts on anyone regardless of age and gender. It's not meant to be condescending, it's just what it is. Something simple, not too personal.

He's not sure what else to do so he doesn't move or pull his hand away. It's a good thing she's not looking, his expression is too wry to be of any comfort.

He makes an affirmative noise, humoring. As much as he wishes he could take back everything he's just told her, it's pointless. What's done is done. He would have to face the consequences and right now that meant asking. Reluctantly, because her previous outburst isn't forgotten and although he doesn't want to push, he has to. ]

Promise me you won't tell anyone?

( She ends up transferring her hand from his wrist to his hand, holding it again by merit of not wanting him to pull back (again) and not knowing what else to do with it. Though she snorts, softly, and finally looks up again at his request. )

I'll try. ( She says. ) I promise I'll try not to. Though I might tell Caesar, but that kind of depends on him asking.

( And she's not sure he'd ask. )

[ Fine with him. His fingers curl loosely around hers as he puts more effort into making his smile less wry even though he feels like dropping it altogether at her reply. ]

You're terrible.

[ He says it jokingly, but he's making a mental note to be more cautious around her in the future because really, they're a lot alike. No more talk of the Order. ]

I'd rather you didn't, but Caesar's fine. If he asks.

[ Which he doesn't see happening either, but Caesar seems like he can keep a secret better than she can either way. (If only on the virtue of not caring.) ]

I'm honest.

( She corrects; and that is terrible enough, because it too is true, and also a lie. )

But I'm also better at not saying things people don't want spread around now than I was last year, so there's that, kind of. Except if it becomes relevant.

( She gives his hand a squeeze. )

I just don't want to make a promise that I might have to break, you know?

( Protecting friends is important. Her friends don't span just one single world. It leaves many places to cover, and many secrets to protect.

Which she does a better job with than she'll even give herself credit for. )

Edited 2013-08-01 19:23 (UTC)

[ The correction gets an eyebrow raise, a hint of skepticism, but he doesn't comment on it.

Her words aren't exactly reassuring, but he wasn't expecting any reassurance from her in the first place considering everything else she has said. So he merely makes an affirmative noise, putting on a show of understanding.

But . . . ]

I don't see why you would have to. Tyki won't do anything. [ Not when so vastly outnumbered, he doesn't think. ]

But if he could, what would he do? More of what he did with you?

( That's dangerous! It's scary, and it's darn well cool on a level she won't readily admit, because admitting might be taken the wrong way right now.

Though already seeing he doesn't believe, she ends up shrugging her shoulders. She's too tired to want to know how to deal with this like the adult she doesn't feel she's ready to be yet. Can she just go home and let someone else take care of everything?

Anyone?

Anyone?

Bueller? )

What, stick his hands in people?

[ He says it in a humorous way, but he knows darn well how Tyki uses his powers in gruesome ways. He'd seen what the Noah had done to Allen through Timcanpy's recording and it is something to be very afraid of. But there's no need to spook her further, so talk of flesh-eating golems being put in bodies is something he keeps to himself.

He squeezes her hand reassuringly instead. ]

Even when there were only two of us here, he didn't really do anything. [ As far as he knows. ] You have nothing to worry about. If he does or more come, we'll do our job as Exorcists.

Yeah, but what happens if you guys can't?

( SHe's not disparaging when she asks, searching his face with a serious expression slowly settling over her own. )

People are so keen on solving their own problems here, they forget they're not the only ones who can, or even should. Even if it's Noah or -- Yeerks or zombies or soul stealing swords or ghosts or demons or whatever other crazy stuff totally exists here. You won't get yourself into something you can't get back out of, will you?

( And that's the real fear. Not the rest, not even Tyki, has the same kind of fear attached.

She doesn't want to lose her important people. It's what it all boils down to, even as she adds to that number, knowing it's not a wise plan. Losing them when she doesn't need to feels like the kind of thing she doesn't want to be able to keep on rolling through unscathed. )

[ He gets it, he really does, and wouldn't it be nice if other people could help? But in this case they really are the only ones who can do anything at all when it comes down to Noah. ]

If we can't, no one can. The only way to even touch a Noah is with Innocence.

[ He says it simply, matter-of-fact, with an even expression. Because it is what it is and nothing can be done about it. Although it still depends on how strong the Innocence is, it's still the only way. If they're lucky (which they generally aren't but one can hope) there won't be any need to bring things like Innocence and Dark Matter into this all. ]

I'll be fine. As long as I have the deal, Tyki won't harm me. [ And by harm he means kill, but she doesn't need to know that. ]

What happens when he calls it in? And Innocence, is that genetic too? Or were you all given it? Your hammer, Lenalee's legs...

( A pause. )

Allen's arm?

I don't know, I have no idea what he might ask in the first place.

[ Something that scares him a little, but beyond information he can't imagine what Tyki could ever want from him. ]

No, we're chosen by the Innocence. They manifest in different types, I guess is how you'd put it.

[ He doesn't say anything about Allen's arm, that's not his to talk about, certainly not when it was harder on parasitic-users to start with, it's an even more sensitive topic for them. He doesn't elaborate much on types either, other than: ]

My Innocence is an equipment-type.

( She of course has other questions; it's a mark of how tired she is that she voices none of them, closing her eyes as she squeezes his hand once more. )

I'm glad you're okay.

( Is her concession, and her way of not pressing any more for the moment. )

They'll all be here all night, yeah? The other Exorcists.

[ He's relieved she doesn't press further, he's not sure how long he could continue before letting himself pass out mid-conversation to avoid any more questioning.

So it's for that and for saving him that he says a heartfelt: ]

Thanks.

[ Possibly he might not escape her curiosity for long, but for now it would have to do. ]

I'm sure some will stick around, knowing them.

Make sure some do, yeah? No one should get stuck here for long on their own,

( A smaller smile, referencing back to June and all it's trials at the hospital. )

I should probably go. Come back and check on you in the morning?

( She makes it a question rather than a presumption. Does he even want her to? )

I know.

[ He smiles back knowingly, the memories longer ago for him now, but still clear and easy to recall now that he's back. ]

Alright, fine with me.

[ He's not even sure he'll be awake then, he feels like he can sleep forever, but she can always wake him up if so inclined. ]

( She gives his hand one last squeeze before letting go. )

Get some rest! No more parasites at least for like, ten years, yeah?

[ He squeezes back before she lets go. ]

You too. And I'd say I've had enough for a lifetime, so no worries there.

( She flashes him another smile, wheeling back a half rotation before switching directions and taking herself on out. She'd need to bargain with someone picking this chair up again later; thankfully they weren't too far out from the apartment complex. It'd make the journey home easier. )

Catch ya later!

[ He raises his hand and musters a last burst of energy to sound somewhat cheerful as he waves her off. ]

See ya!

[ Time to pass out again, aw yeah. ]

a congregation of exorcists

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sorry for the delay!!!!

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