Who: Waver Velvet & whoever When: throughout September Where: Dorchacht (beginning to mid-Sept... ignore the headers) & Aefenglom (late Sept) What: trouble in Dorch, recovering in Aefenglom Warnings: drug use, auction and monster slavery stuff
It's not really answering the question Waver asked, but it's no less honest. Whether or not he's able to climb up after Waver doesn't particularly matter. He will find his own way out of this if need be; it's more important that Waver makes it out. He leaves little room for Waver to attempt clarification or argument, however, and gives him the needed boost to get up himself. Ozymandias stays put and close by in case Waver slips while hauling himself up the rest of the way. Once he's securely up, Ozymandias moves a little further down to find something that should be capable of handling his own weight as he climbs up. He doesn't, however, want to keep Waver waiting or hanging back.
With a grunt, Waver hauls himself up as Ozymandias lifts him, claws hooking onto scraps of junk and some tarp from what used to be the makeshift roof above a merchant's booth. His enhanced strength helps him, considering he generally has no upper body strength to speak of, but it's a bit of a scramble still.
He makes it, though, without too much trouble. Waver looks back, hesitating at the top.
"...okay." He doesn't look happy about it, but Waver nods and doesn't try to argue in this case.
As Waver jumps down to the other side, Ozymandias sighs in quiet relief. Given Waver's reaction to the restrained Monsters, he was prepared for an argument. Hence his continued pushing Waver right along rather than giving him room to think at any great length about what he was being told to do.
Sparing no glance in the direction of the approaching shouts and the wails and shrieks of Monsters, Ozymandias finds a spot and takes a few steps back. With a bit of a running start, he's able to pull himself up in more or less a smooth motion. The only falter is when he has to put some weight into his bruised wrist. For the most part, the throbs of pain from Waver's grip and claws are relatively easy to ignore with something else to focus on. But needing to use it takes the throb and brings it into sharp focus. There's no time to worry about it, however, and he's quick to get to his feet, spot a safe place to jump down, and make it back down onto the ground.
Despite his emotional outbursts when things bubble over, and in spite of his current form, Waver is still a mage. He tries to be practical. He isn't that reckless and stupid -- not in general, at least. He understands there's nothing they can do. He understands that focusing on that to the point of upsetting himself into losing control of his animal instincts would be a mistake they can't afford right now.
It doesn't make it easier.
Listening to the sounds of Ozymandias scrambling over the blockade as the screams and shouts draw closer, Waver waits anxiously on the other side, watching the way splintered wood and lopsided crates shift under Ozymandias's weight to gauge his progress. When he finally jumps down to join Waver, the turnskin instinctively rushes back over to his side, ears down and jaw tight. When he looks up searchingly, it's clear he's relying on Ozymandias to keep leading; they're safer, but not clear.
Ozymandias had hoped that Waver would have continued on without him, but he's not actually all that surprised to find the turnskin still lingering nearby and waiting for him to truly follow. He imagines it's far easier to expend whatever energy necessary to keep himself calm with someone else nearby he can trust just enough to lead him to safety. If there truly is any safety to be found in this city at any rate.
He places a hand briefly on Waver's shoulder before taking the lead again and trusting him to follow. The side street is a straight shot before it meets up with a typically busier street. Typically because the moment all the nearby commotion started, people started to clear out this street just as quickly though with significantly less panic than those in the market proper. When they get to the mouth of the alley, Ozymandias pauses, holding an arm out at chest level for Waver to similarly pause. It seems the military is relying on a pincer to trap the Resistance in the middle of the market with more forces beginning to funnel into the end opposite where they've already started attempting to regain control of the situation. They are still, however, a ways off from Ozymandias and Waver, and so, he begins leading Waver out of the alley and across the street to move to the next alleyway. He places a hand at Waver's back, keeping him moving at a quick pace and moving straight ahead, judging it better to not move further up the street.
The touch, though brief, reassures him. Ozymandias's thinking is correct, though Waver hasn't had the chance to examine it in his own mind: it's a relief to be able to rely on him, to only have to keep track of him and follow rather than having to navigate all this on his own, with the overwhelming sounds and smells and worry. His instincts tell him to run or fight, but there is also the instinct to follow. Protect. Not that he's doing much protecting right now, but in a way it's easier, with the beast snarling inside his head, to lean into the feeling. It's not a conscious decision.
Waver pauses when Ozymandias does and makes no attempt to keep running, no argument. He's not even looking out onto the street; after getting a look at why they stopped, he turns his face back up, watching Ozymandias.
And then they're moving again. He keeps up, though he has to move faster at his stature, focus narrowing on Ozymandias's hand on his back leading him along.
They're easily caught up in the crowd vacating the street, thinning though it is. Like this, they look like they 'fit in' too -- a Witch with his pet, perhaps, and no one pays attention to them long enough to notice any inconsistencies in the immediate likely assumption.
With everyone focused on clearing out and no obvious suspicions about who might be leaving the streets closest to the market, they're able to put a fair amount of distance behind them relatively quick. The further they get, the slower Ozymandias allows their pace to become until he feels it's safe to stop both in terms of the military presence and Waver's grip on the rational portion of his mind.
The distance is a relief, and when Ozymandias finally slows them down, Waver's heartbeat slows too. He still looks on high alert, ears up and tail rigid, fangs longer than they should have been, but his eyes are clear. Just faintly... haunted.
He shakes his head.
"No." Not really. A few bruises, one already forming around his pale throat where the cloak had dragged and pulled across it, but no real damage. He cut it before it could actually bruise deeper, too, so he's perfectly all right physically. Shaken, but not injured.
"But..."
Waver looks down guiltily at Ozymandias's wrist. His fingers curl into loose fists as if to hide his claws.
Because Waver looks so pointedly at his wrist, Ozymandias lifts the injured wrist and spares it a passing glance. It's beginning to ache somewhat now with less to distract from it, but he's suffered far worse injuries than this. Thus, it is only a glance rather than any sort of inspection of just how deeply Waver's claws managed to dig.
He shakes his head, dismissing the apology altogether.
"You did well to do as I commanded without question." Looking Waver over for a moment longer just to be sure there are really no injuries he's attempting to hide from Ozymandias... He wraps his uninjured arm tightly around Waver's shoulders with a quiet sigh. "You are not my vassal, but I would not have any harm befall you. I am glad you are unharmed."
Waver's too distraught and emotionally exhausted to even pretend he doesn't want the hug. He stays there, when Ozymandias wraps an arm around him, leaning into his chest and pressing close for a few moments.
"I'm fine," he repeats flatly, and doesn't mean it. Physically, it's true enough. It could have been much worse.
But his thoughts linger on the Monsters they'd left behind, trapped and tied up at the mercy of falling debris or fire or worse. He feels sick.
Ozymandias doesn't really believe Waver when he says he's fine, at least not beyond the physical sense of it, but he doesn't challenge the claim.
"I know."
Ozymandias speaks quietly to acknowledge what Waver is likely thinking but not saying, rubbing at Waver's arm a little. It doesn't need to be said for Ozymandias to take a guess; the former mage's heart is simply far too gentle for certain ugly realities.
He feels like an idiot. Logically, Waver knows there really was no other option, and they only would have gotten hurt or further caught up in the mess of the riot. He knows they weren't equipped to help those people, if they even could have figured out how to free them from the bonds that very likely had enchantments attached. He knows all that, but it still makes his stomach twist in on itself, brings a bad taste to the back of his tongue.
He sighs, gently pulling back from Ozymandias after a few more moments of indulging in the comfort of his warmth.
Ozymandias allows Waver to pull away when he's ready, letting his arm drift down his back and then away. He passes no judgment on him for seeking out the warmth or for his discomfort with the decision that had to be made.
"I would not have said it if it weren't true," he says with a nod, his attention turning back to the injuries at his wrist. By now, the claw marks have stopped bleeding, leaving behind dried streaks on his arm. "It looks worse than it is, I assure you, but I will see to it that it is tended to."
Waver just stands there awkwardly for another moment, looking absolutely miserable, but there's nothing to be done. He already apologized. He already accepted (or, rather, is trying to accept) that running was the best and only actually sound decision. What else is there to do?
His ears swivel, tracking the sounds of shouts in the distance. He swallows.
"...let's head back to the Coven, then."
To get Ozymandias taken care of, presumably. Waver just doesn't want to walk alone.
If there was something Ozymandias might be able to do that would ease Waver's heart, he thinks that he would do it. But there is simply nothing that can be done. Waver must find a way to set aside whatever guilt he is carrying with him and focus his attention on the present. Or perhaps the future. With the way Waver's ear swivels in the direction of the riot, Ozymandias tries to keep his attention here with him by placing a hand on top of his head. No roughhousing or petting as he otherwise might. Just a quiet reminder that he is here and he is not alone.
"And then let us find Iskandar. I am sure he will be relieved to see you for himself by the time word about the market reaches him."
Someone else might tell Waver to think nothing of it when he expresses gratitude. One would need to be exceptionally heartless or cruel to have left him there, after all. But Ozymandias' actions were not inspired by obligation or basic decency. He had been willing to do whatever it took to get Waver out of that situation and to this relative safety.
"Of course," he says, taking his hand back. Though small and subdued -- certainly for Ozymandias in any case -- he smiles with kindness before turning and leading the way back to the Black City's Coven. "Come. We have a ways to go before we reach the Coven again."
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It's not really answering the question Waver asked, but it's no less honest. Whether or not he's able to climb up after Waver doesn't particularly matter. He will find his own way out of this if need be; it's more important that Waver makes it out. He leaves little room for Waver to attempt clarification or argument, however, and gives him the needed boost to get up himself. Ozymandias stays put and close by in case Waver slips while hauling himself up the rest of the way. Once he's securely up, Ozymandias moves a little further down to find something that should be capable of handling his own weight as he climbs up. He doesn't, however, want to keep Waver waiting or hanging back.
"Go, I'll be right behind you."
no subject
He makes it, though, without too much trouble. Waver looks back, hesitating at the top.
"...okay." He doesn't look happy about it, but Waver nods and doesn't try to argue in this case.
He can hear the shouts getting closer. He jumps.
no subject
Sparing no glance in the direction of the approaching shouts and the wails and shrieks of Monsters, Ozymandias finds a spot and takes a few steps back. With a bit of a running start, he's able to pull himself up in more or less a smooth motion. The only falter is when he has to put some weight into his bruised wrist. For the most part, the throbs of pain from Waver's grip and claws are relatively easy to ignore with something else to focus on. But needing to use it takes the throb and brings it into sharp focus. There's no time to worry about it, however, and he's quick to get to his feet, spot a safe place to jump down, and make it back down onto the ground.
no subject
It doesn't make it easier.
Listening to the sounds of Ozymandias scrambling over the blockade as the screams and shouts draw closer, Waver waits anxiously on the other side, watching the way splintered wood and lopsided crates shift under Ozymandias's weight to gauge his progress. When he finally jumps down to join Waver, the turnskin instinctively rushes back over to his side, ears down and jaw tight. When he looks up searchingly, it's clear he's relying on Ozymandias to keep leading; they're safer, but not clear.
no subject
He places a hand briefly on Waver's shoulder before taking the lead again and trusting him to follow. The side street is a straight shot before it meets up with a typically busier street. Typically because the moment all the nearby commotion started, people started to clear out this street just as quickly though with significantly less panic than those in the market proper. When they get to the mouth of the alley, Ozymandias pauses, holding an arm out at chest level for Waver to similarly pause. It seems the military is relying on a pincer to trap the Resistance in the middle of the market with more forces beginning to funnel into the end opposite where they've already started attempting to regain control of the situation. They are still, however, a ways off from Ozymandias and Waver, and so, he begins leading Waver out of the alley and across the street to move to the next alleyway. He places a hand at Waver's back, keeping him moving at a quick pace and moving straight ahead, judging it better to not move further up the street.
no subject
Waver pauses when Ozymandias does and makes no attempt to keep running, no argument. He's not even looking out onto the street; after getting a look at why they stopped, he turns his face back up, watching Ozymandias.
And then they're moving again. He keeps up, though he has to move faster at his stature, focus narrowing on Ozymandias's hand on his back leading him along.
They're easily caught up in the crowd vacating the street, thinning though it is. Like this, they look like they 'fit in' too -- a Witch with his pet, perhaps, and no one pays attention to them long enough to notice any inconsistencies in the immediate likely assumption.
no subject
"Are you hurt?"
The crowd wasn't exactly gentle with Waver.
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He shakes his head.
"No." Not really. A few bruises, one already forming around his pale throat where the cloak had dragged and pulled across it, but no real damage. He cut it before it could actually bruise deeper, too, so he's perfectly all right physically. Shaken, but not injured.
"But..."
Waver looks down guiltily at Ozymandias's wrist. His fingers curl into loose fists as if to hide his claws.
"Sorry."
no subject
He shakes his head, dismissing the apology altogether.
"You did well to do as I commanded without question." Looking Waver over for a moment longer just to be sure there are really no injuries he's attempting to hide from Ozymandias... He wraps his uninjured arm tightly around Waver's shoulders with a quiet sigh. "You are not my vassal, but I would not have any harm befall you. I am glad you are unharmed."
no subject
"I'm fine," he repeats flatly, and doesn't mean it. Physically, it's true enough. It could have been much worse.
But his thoughts linger on the Monsters they'd left behind, trapped and tied up at the mercy of falling debris or fire or worse. He feels sick.
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"I know."
Ozymandias speaks quietly to acknowledge what Waver is likely thinking but not saying, rubbing at Waver's arm a little. It doesn't need to be said for Ozymandias to take a guess; the former mage's heart is simply far too gentle for certain ugly realities.
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He sighs, gently pulling back from Ozymandias after a few more moments of indulging in the comfort of his warmth.
"You sure your hand's okay?"
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"I would not have said it if it weren't true," he says with a nod, his attention turning back to the injuries at his wrist. By now, the claw marks have stopped bleeding, leaving behind dried streaks on his arm. "It looks worse than it is, I assure you, but I will see to it that it is tended to."
no subject
Waver just stands there awkwardly for another moment, looking absolutely miserable, but there's nothing to be done. He already apologized. He already accepted (or, rather, is trying to accept) that running was the best and only actually sound decision. What else is there to do?
His ears swivel, tracking the sounds of shouts in the distance. He swallows.
"...let's head back to the Coven, then."
To get Ozymandias taken care of, presumably. Waver just doesn't want to walk alone.
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"And then let us find Iskandar. I am sure he will be relieved to see you for himself by the time word about the market reaches him."
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"Yeah. That sounds good."
A pause, his gaze dropping away again uncomfortably.
"...thanks."
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"Of course," he says, taking his hand back. Though small and subdued -- certainly for Ozymandias in any case -- he smiles with kindness before turning and leading the way back to the Black City's Coven. "Come. We have a ways to go before we reach the Coven again."