dravanicide | IC Inbox (Snowblind)

[Estinien remained still as Aymeric took hold of his gauntlet, a look of disgust—or perhaps disdain—flooded his features as Aymeric kissed the sharp knuckle and consequently nicked his own lip.

A moment later, he pulled his hand from Aymeric's grasp and took a step back. He didn't want to harm Aymeric, but he would only suffer so much of this. But blatant threats did not seem to do much, so maybe he needed a different approach.]

Might we concern ourselves with more pressing matters? Perhaps searching our surroundings for aught of import? Surely these morsels are not all this building has to offer.

[As he said such, he began to attempt to walk past Aymeric.]

It couldn't hurt to scavenge. [His mind seemed to switch tracks effortlessly. ] It has been a terrible while since we have found any wine to warm ourselves with. I doubt we should find aught of the like in this place.

[He follows quickly behind Estinien, matching his long-legged stalk. The blood from his lip hadn't staunched itself yet, and a red bead dripped down his chin. ]

You may wish to stop the bleeding before worrying yourself with wine.

[Estinien pointed out. Now that he could see that Aymeric's mind more or less fluttered without direction, not unlike a butterfly looking for any flower it could perch upon, it was proving a bit easier to deal with.

He didn't know the crux of the issue, what it was that plagued Aymeric's mind so, but he could manipulate it, at the very least. It kept them from the uncomfortable and unfortunate conversation they were having, at the very least, and he'd be full sure to keep it from returning if he could help it.]

Oh- [He dabs his lip with his finger and looks at it mildly. ] I've nothing clean to touch it with. I may as well let it stop on its own.

[ he looks at his coat. Even in this light he could tell how dirty it had become. Somewhere on there was Cheetos dust. Disgusting.]

I should like to find some hot water again soon. I'd like to wash my clothes...

[He scans the floor for objects it sees nothing but rubble and garbage. ]

What small comfort do you think you'd like? [He asks this kindly ]

A respectable spear.

[The answer came quickly enough. He did not need much to feel comfort, but the spear he had made for himself was a joke in the face of the Gaebolg, or even a training lance.]

But I suppose a proper bath would not go amiss.

Edited 2017-02-27 22:32 (UTC)

I can still almost feel the water on my skin from last time. What I wouldn't do for a basin large enough to cover my knees and shoulders. [his eyes flick to the strands of hair visible through the helmet's opening] I hope we haven't lost your comb.

[He sighs in wistful agreement. A bath and a real weapon would be wonderful. Though he had to wonder if eventually Estinien would become more dangerous than any anomaly. Anomalies, at least, always were a threat. Not that h sensed this as a true concern, just a passing thought.]

I wish I had something truly productive to do with all my energy right now. These damned locked doors. If only I had felt this way back home sometimes. I feel as though I could finish my paperwork in triple time.

I will most certainly survive if we have.

[His hair being a tangled mess was not the worse he had ever dealt with, in fact, it was pretty normal. The only reason it ever looked half way manageable was because of Aymeric, anyways.]

Aye, but would it be legible, or even half as accurate. I doubt not your productivity, but instead the quality there of.

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