Snoot schnizzling and biscuit buttering 101

[Vega]

30th Cylus 718
following: this

She'd slept four straight breaks not moving in his arms at all, simply resting and healing, her breath tickling his neck and her relaxation complete. He knew, of course, that this was the longest, and the deepest, she'd slept since the night before the one on the docks when she'd died and her legs had been snapped, one at the knee and the other at the thigh - the last time she and he had slept tangled up together in each other had been the last time she slept properly. However, curled into him as much as she could be, she mumbled something against him and then woke with a start and a gasp of surprise, yet she looked better than she had since he'd scooped her up in the warehouse two trials before. "Hey, you," Vega said with a smile, looking up at him; the colours in her eyes were slowing, finally. The last two trials, they'd been swirling a mass of colours constantly and at a speed which he'd never seen before. But as she woke there, the colours were slowly changing and more like her usual upon waking. "I'm sorry, 'ave I been asleep long? Your arms must be goin' dead. Sorry." Leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw, she mumbled. "But you know, you're comfortable. Gah. Sorry." Sitting up, and stopping herself from tormenting him and her, Vega propped herself up on his chest and looked at him. "I forgot. Jus' for a trill, I forgot about my stupid legs an' I thought.. well, you know what I thought. But I forgot. That's good, innit?"

Her expression was half tortured and half a wicked grin, yet she couldn't resist asking. "Are you startin' to feel like that alley cat tom, yet?" With an almost pained expression, she asked something she'd already asked a few trials ago but he hadn't answered then. "What's the timescale for this, Arlo? Cos I'm gonna beat it, heal in half the time, but some idea would be good." If he gave her a number that was too big, she told him, she was going to get testy. "I don't mean like, fully healed. Jus' until I can.. well.. you, really, we, I suppose. Schnizzle my snoot an' butter my biscuit, but... how long, Arlo?" She gave him what she considered a companionable thump on the shoulder, just because she could and then lowered her head back onto his chest.

Once she was fully awake, and she admitted that she felt better rested than she had since what she called "the whole leg-snappin'-burnin-up-dead-then-alive-thing," Vega asked him, somewhat grouchily because she didn't like having to ask, if he'd help her get a wash. She needed nothing from him in terms of washing herself, thank you very much, she was quick to inform him, but the soap and water might be an issue. While he got that ready, she brushed her hair and tied it back, something she hadn't done since he'd brought her back to the Wanderlust and when he got back she asked for a clean dress, not a nightgown. "I don't 'ave to be in bed, do I? As long as my legs are in front of me an' immobile? I could sit on a chair an' use the bed as a stool? Or jus' not be in bed all the time. It's not good, an' I need to stop it." She breathed in, though and admitted to him a basic truth, which she figured he already knew and which, if he didn't, he had a right to. "I want to stay in bed. It feels safe an' I'm nervous about bein' out of there. So that means I need to shift my ginger butt. Help me with this dress, would you?"

As he did, her limited mobility meaning that she needed him to tie the back of it, as twisting at the hip like that would be very much against doctor's orders, she held her hair up out of his way and was quiet until he'd finished. "Take me dancin', Arlo. When this is done, an' I'm doin' up my own dresses, an' sortin' out my own washin' and all that. Take me on a date, an' on that date, take me dancin'?" She breathed in and smiled, turning and kissing him gently. "Shake a tail feather with me. But come on, show me what's next in yer bag of torturin' Vega." There was nothing wrong with her speed as she poked him, hard, in the very spot where her pinch from earlier would have undoubtedly left a bruise. "An' it's not jus' me. We're both doin' it, so I hope you've got enough for two. Yer gettin' flabby, I noticed earlier." Nothing, of course, was further from the truth and she'd had a difficult time getting her hands off him. But as she looked at him, she knew that he understood; she needed him to be doing this with her - for all sorts of reasons which he probably understood better than her. Either way, she had a reputation to maintain.

"I can't be 'avin' a flabby man. Do yer worst, Creede."

[Arlo Creede]

Four breaks was a long time to remain in one position, sat up in bed, one arm trapped. Arlo hadn't dared move though, or risk disturbing Vega while she got the best sleep that she'd had since she'd been broken into pieces. A little enforced idleness wouldn't hurt him, considering that he'd stopped sensing any feeling in his left arm and shoulder after a break and a half.

Once, Vega's father had passed by and asked, in a gesturing sort of way could he do anything. And in kind, Arlo asked for a book, his half empty notebook and something to write with. It kept him occupied while Vega slept. When Vega finally woke up, startled, and raised herself up to the extent that she could, in spite of himself Arlo winced a little as a flurry of pins and needles ran up and down his arm. Still, he smiled when she seemed to forget herself. And him too, in truth. There were a number of things after all that had to wait, while she was healing.

"Don't be sorry," he told her, pulled her close again and kissed her before shifting himself into a more upright position. "It's the kind of forgetfulness I could hardly complain about." When she asked how long though, Arlo frowned in response. She wasn't going to like the answer. He didn't either. "It's going to be some time I think. Even were we especially careful. A season I'd think, at the least." Not what either of them wanted to hear or know, no doubt.

But no, she didn't need to stay in the bed, he told her. And in fact if she wanted, while he got the soap, warm water and towels, he could move a chair into the bathroom and carry her in there. In either case, "I have an idea though about how you might be able to get around by yourself," he considered. It would allow her to move more, do more for herself without having to rely on him, her father or cousin. But that was for later, and for now he'd carry her where she wanted and help her to dress.

"We can have more chairs, you know," he teased her, whether she sat on the bed or the chair, and used the other to prop up her legs. "You want to go dancing?" A kiss, a grin and he dug into his sack for more of the things he'd brought back from town. Snorting, knowing himself to be a fairly unlikely dance partner since mostly, previously, he'd done it under duress, he shrugged. "You have a deal. You get back up on your feet. We go dancing."

And he'd already thought about that, he told her when Vega insisted, it was together or nothing. There were two sets of barbells that he pulled out of the sack, all crafted from wood and melted, painted on metal for extra weight. Then sitting beside Vega, he handed her a pair of them, along with the proper fingerless gloves, and kept a set for himself. One at a time at first though, and with an elbow rested on his knee, he held one of the things in his right hand to cycle through a number of curls.

[Vega]

There in his arms as he kissed her, it was easy to forget and lose herself in the moment. Until, of course, she moved even a little. Then it hurt and she tried to hide the wince but didn't quite manage it. Her expression was far more obvious, though, when he answered her question and Vega's eyebrows shot up as she looked at him. "If that's meant to be a joke, yer not funny you know." With a most serious gaze, Vega lifted her hand to gently twist some of his hair around her finger and release it again. "That's one hundred an' twenty three trials. Well, that's not happenin' Arlo Creede. We'll just have to get inventive, once these pain levels come down a bit." She nodded her head, quite sure that she was right and she glanced at the rings hanging from the ceiling, then turned back to him and waggled her eyebrows at him with an almost despairing looking on her face.

"Not an option, Creede. Pick another." That was that as far as she was concerned. "You're not gonna stay down the corridor that time, are you? I mean," it wasn't actually fair on him to ask him to do anything else, she realised. "Well, now I'm glum," she said and mostly, she meant it.

When he suggested carrying her to the bathroom, Vega looked at the door suspiciously. It was just a glance, there and gone again in seconds, but it was there. Out there. not in here? No, she didn't want to go out there. Not for a single trill did she want to. Here, she recognised, was a larger feeling like the one she had about not leaving the bed. "Yeah, you know, a trip to the bathroom sounds like a right laugh." Scared of leaving the room? That wasn't happening, not any time soon. Glancing at him, she saw that he'd seen and recognised the expression on her face initially and she smiled, reassuringly she hoped. "You bang my knee on the door frame an' I'm gonna get testy." Serious eyes looked at him even as she spoke teasing words. "You're gonna have to be careful, Arlo. You know, I'm not exactly light. Don't 'urt yourself cartin' me around."

After she'd washed and dressed, though, she had to admit she felt better. More herself. The exertion of it meant that she needed to just rest, not sleep but let the pain of moving subside for a few moments. So, once she was sitting on a chair in their room, legs propped up and her hair tied back and brushed, she smiled at him. "Come on then, what's this idea for movin' about?" It gave her the time to just sit quietly, just for a few bits, which she needed.

He agreed, yes, they'd go dancing and Vega beamed her delight. "You can bet on it. I loved dancin' when we did it in Desnind, d'ya remember?" She'd had to practically drag him along but, once they'd got there, "it was fun, wasn't it? We were rubbish." As she watched him pulling the next bits of equipment out of his bag, Vega breathed out a ragged, emotional breath, but said nothing. He understood her need for this to be something both of them did and she was more grateful than she had words for. So, she reverted to what they understood. "Is this 'ow human folks build up their muscles?" Vega asked looking at it. She watched what he did, how he held on to the item itself and she first pulled on the gloves then copied him. "What's this do then? It's like, oh, look at that," it was his arm she was looking at and her eyebrow raised, appreciatively.

Copying him, for the most part, Vega simply changed what she did so that she wasn't resting her elbow on her legs. That seemed like a bad plan to her. "Is this right?" It seemed like a strange thing to do, really, lift things repetitively and she couldn't help the look of amusement on her face. "I thought we were gonna try an 'it each other with them or somethin'. To be honest, I thought they were a bit heavy for that, but I trust you." It was about adapting, she considered. Making sure that movements which she'd usually do to build up and maintain strength every trial were still there, even though she couldn't move as she used to be able to.

It had to be said, Vega was strong and her muscles were more than evident as she worked through the unfamiliar exercises. "I miss my sword nearly as much as I miss you." Her expression was entirely serious when she spoke. "If I can get up on deck, do you reckon I'll at least be able to practice my bow? I could attach a silk strand to an arrow, practice firin' sittin' down." As her mind worked, she considered something. "An' you know, somethin' dead weird's been happenin'." Not the actual "dead weird" stuff, no, this was something different. "I think I've stopped dreamin', Arlo. Can gettin' dead do that, or is it cos of the legs?" It seemed strange to her that was for sure.

[Arlo Creede]

Unfortunately it wasn't a joke, Arlo said when, turned out, Vega wasn't any happier than he was about the wait ahead of them. So far as being intimate together was concerned. "I wish it was. But there's just no way to...Well there's no way without..." Snorting, grinning a little and shaking his head, he concluded, "You know what I mean. I don't like it either and yeah, we can be creative." They always were, then why stop now? "But the important thing is that you heal properly and I don't want to do anything that's going to prevent that happening."

But then that was one of the reasons he was sleeping down at the end of the hall in the room beneath the stairs, rather than in the same cabin with Vega. "I am," he said when she asked if he'd keep that up for the duration. "And I don't like that either. But it's best for us both." Mostly for her and the healing process but ultimately what was good for one was good on the other. In the meantime, it would provide him all the opportunities in the world to practice at discipline, self discipline, what have you.

She was as light as a feather, Arlo reassured her while carrying her into the bathroom. A precious armful so far as he was concerned, and he'd take all the care in the world to make sure she wasn't jostled, knocked round or hurt in the process. "I've got lots of ideas," he told her once he'd gotten the two sets of barbells, and was back beside Vega on the edge of the bed. "I'm going to buy a couple of extra chairs, some wood and a few other things before we leave port. Then I'm going to outfit one of the chairs so you can get into it and move yourself wherever you like." Wheels, Arlo meant.

Then? Well he wasn't much of a carpenter of an engineer either, but he'd figure it out. A chair that she could get in and roll herself would allow Vega to get around without having to rely on others to carry her. But to what good if she couldn't get out and up on deck? "And then I'm seeing a sort of platform with edges at the bottom of the stairs, that can go up and down on a pulley from the bottom to the top," Arlo explained. And of course, back again whenever Vega wanted it to. It was all only temporary of course and then they could remove the thing and get rid of the chair. But in the meantime? It meant getting out of bed or up on deck whenever she wanted, and not having to rely on anyone but herself if that's what she wanted.

"I remember." Arlo grinned and had to admit that as much as he'd complained at the time, he'd actually enjoyed the dancing lessons they'd taken together. She was the only person alive that he'd let know he hadn't minded. And even then his enjoyment of it was implied and not spoken. But if Vega wanted to dance, then they would and there'd be nothing that Arlo would want more. "Upper body strength, even your core," he added with a snort as Vega finally decided to try the barbells. He'd start with his right hand, then his left for a bit, then begin to alternate hands.

If he could get the chair and the lift built, it would make it all the easier to get up and practice with her bow. She could do it either way, of course, even if he or her cousin or father carried her. But under her own steam, all the better so far as Arlo was concerned. "I know," he said when Vega talked about dreaming. "Except that's not really true. You're dreaming like ordinary people dream, but not dreamwalking. It may not be about what's happened, specifically, as it is about how you're feeling and dealing with it. Your unconscious mind trying to come to terms with things, in a sense. You feel stuck here, you feel stuck there. I think it'll sort itself out," he told her.

[Vega]

"Well if you wanted to motivate me to get up an' movin', Arlo, why didn't you start with that?" Vega said with an entirely serious look on her face. "Always, the most important information last. Like, I lied about there not bein' someone I'm interested in, there is, an' I wanna be with her, oh, an' yeah, it's you. That was not your finest communication, but this one's worse!" Vega shook her head, looking at him with an expression on her face which was fond and frustrated in equal measure. "Never mind a mug of 'ot chocolate an' a couple of candies to get me movin'. That timeline's all I need." She grinned and gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder, but then her gaze turned serious. "Half that time. Less." As for making sure she healed properly, she nodded. "I'm not takin' risks, an' I'm not makin' shortcuts. I'm gonna dance with you, Arlo, an' it isn't gonna hurt anywhere except my feet where you tramp on them." In fairness, he had been a fine dance partner before and she was sure that he would be again. And long, long before that, things would get back to normal between them physically. "I need an' want you, an' I am not hangin' around for a full season. Jog on."

She wanted to argue with him about where he slept until they were safely able to share a bed again, and she nearly did, but he said it was best for both of them. Which meant that it was best for him, because it most certainly wasn't best for her. But she'd suggested it, when she'd been more or less suggesting that he got himself a lover for the duration and yet, now, she couldn't even begin to think about that. Part of what was so embarrassing about that was just how stupid the thought that he'd even consider it was. Still, she moved on and ignored it, not wanting to dwell there because when she thought about it she felt, frankly, stupid.

In honesty, they both knew that she didn't like anyone carrying her, but he might notice that he was the only one she let do it. Huw, in fact, had a bruise along his lower jaw from where he'd tried to insist. Vega dismissed that as his own fault for being a wuss. The process of washing and dressing was painful and draining, but every movement helped and next time, tomorrow, it would be easier. So, she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him carry her. His description of a chair, though, intrigued her. "I like the idea of the chair, very much," she said, but there was definitely an end to that sentence which started, "but I'm not sure about that on the stairs. Honestly, Arlo, I'd rather trust your arms an' back than a pulley an' ledge. Though I'd rather trust that than Huw or Papa. You. No one else, I'm not bein' carted around like a sack o' spuds" If he wanted, she said, they could make the chair together. She was pretty good at carpentry these trials and it would be nice to feel useful.

As they practiced the curls, as he called them, Vega nodded at his explanation of what and why. Strengthen her core, upper body strength and all that. Strong body, strong mind, better healing. She grinned at him when he spoke about the dancing. He'd enjoyed it, she knew, but he'd not say as much then and wouldn't likely do so now. Vega looked down at her arm, watching the muscles move as she worked. She wanted to tell him that she knew, without a doubt, that he could be sleeping three cities away and he'd be missing her, thinking of her and not tempted by anyone else. Yet, she couldn't quite bring herself to. "I only want you to carry me, not 'cos of pride," she said, quietly, changing the arm she worked with and apparently focusing on that quite a lot. "But because I know that to you I'm the most precious thing an' you'd never take a step without thinkin' about me, an' makin' sure I didn't get hurt." That analogy would have to do until she felt less stupid, she considered.

Maybe about arc 768,

But then, all that went out of her head as he told her that she was dreaming just not walking. Vega looked genuinely amazed and then a deep frown crossed her face. "An' you're in these dreams? Walkin' in them?" Her lips pursed together and she shook her head. "That's not right, you shouldn't have to deal with my healin' awake an' asleep. You need some time to deal with your own stuff, Arlo." She was clear, she explained, that what they had both experienced needed time to heal. "An' you're fine, I know you are." Yeah. He was fine. Actually, come to that. "You know what, no, I don't want you sleepin' alone Arlo. Bring a bed in to our room, like you were gonna before I was stupid an' thoughtless You deserve better than that, an' you've earned better than that from me a hundred times over, an' I'm sorry." With a shrug, which expressed an emotion she most certainly did not feel, Vega looked at him sheepishly. "We're always better together. Awake or asleep. Besides," she added with a grin, "I can think of some creative things to do with our time." Teasing, light and banter filled, yes, but there was a bottom line. "Don't be on yer own, Arlo. Not unless it's what you want, an' I don't think it really is." Not when, as he was on the edge of sleep he saw and heard and experienced, all over again, the sight of her dying. Better that, at the very least, her hand was in his as sleep took them so he knew.

[Arlo Creede]

"So what you're saying," Arlo drawled thoughtfully when Vega complained about his choice of tactics. "Is that I should employ my come hither whiles and my undeniable physical appeal as motivational tools?" He could do that, he revealed just a trill later with a lopsided grin that proved he'd been teasing her. Although if that was what he'd been called on to do in order to get her moving, Arlo would have unashamedly done it. He knew Vega's typical stubbornness and drive however. Nature would establish it's own limits to how fast her body and mind could heal. But Vega would be there, pushing the boundaries from start to finish.

Of course Arlo didn't mind carrying her, and would do it as often and for as long as Vega needed him to. But he tended to think that it would be better for her, if it wasn't necessary. If she could manage to get around on her own to whatever extent was possible, it might give her the motivation she needed to heal even faster. "Then we'll do the chair and not the lift if you'd rather. It would be safer anyway, I guess, if I was to get you up the stairs. From there though, you'll have the chair." But there was no question about it. When he carried her, he carried the most precious thing he'd ever known or ever would. He'd sooner throw himself into the abyss than let a hair on her head be harmed. And if he was the cause of it? It was unfathomable.

Meanwhile as he continued beside her, doing the curls with the barbells and alternative one arm and then the other, his muscles began to burn a little. Which was the point and exactly what ought to have happened. "It's not so much that I'm seeking them out," Arlo answered with a frown when she asked about his presence in her dreams. "It's like before, when we first met. I'm falling into them I guess." But when Vega worried about it, about him, he shook his head. "Once in, Vega, I could as easily walk out if I wanted." As for their sleeping arrangements, well, that was trickier.

Separate quarters hadn't been his idea. It had been Vega's and though he'd agreed, inwardly he'd also resisted and believed it wasn't necessary. He frowned and shrugged. "I was against it but once I thought about it, I figured it would be easier." As if being farther away from her would have caused the yearning to disappear. It was stupid to have thought so. On the other hand, because he figured she would rest better without him nearby, then fair enough. "If you want, this room hasn't gotten any smaller. There's still room for the two beds."

Point being it still wouldn't be wise to share a bed. Even with all the self control in the world, she needed all the room available in the one bed, so all the better to heal without being crowded or inadvertently knocked around in their sleep.

[Muse]

Your review is ready!

Clearly, this thread had me at the title. Need I say more?

Vega

Points

XP:
15 | These points cannot be used for magic.

Fame:
N/A

Loot

N/A

Injuries + Overstepping

N/A

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
Discipline: Forcing yourself to get out of bed.
Discipline: Fighting fear by facing it head on
Rhetoric: Using analogy to give a message
Strength: Using balanced weights to build up strength
Strength: Curls for arm strength

Other Knowledge:
N/A

Arlo

Points

XP:
15 | These points cannot be used for magic.

Fame:
N/A

Loot

N/A

Injuries + Overstepping

N/A

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
Discipline: Not moving, even when you want to
Discipline: Distract yourself from painful situations.
Endurance: Staying still with a dead arm
Endurance: The sudden flurry of pins and needles in a dead arm.
Strength: Using balanced weights to build up strength
Strength: Curls for arm strength
Strength: Carrying a person in a confined space

Other Knowledge:
N/A

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Muse

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