Self Mutilation

[CorenYi]

Fior's footsteps echoed heavily through the halls as he made his way to Sahra's door, the force of his resolution weighing him down more than any armor. The length of hall seemed to pass slowly, or maybe he just wanted it to. He wished that the hall would stretch off into the distance. He wanted the doorway to never get closer. But no matter how he tried, he couldn't defy the laws of reality.

 

As he stood before the rough, grainy wood of her door, thoughts cascaded through his mind. A deluge of doubt poured over him as he raised his hand. He tried to hide within the Void but he still couldn't pull it on. He hadn't been able to since his talk with Cairma.

 

With that cold comfort lost to him, he simply tried to push the thoughts aside and knocked twice on the heavy wooden door. He heard rustling through the door, and a few seconds later it opened to reveal a familiar face.

 

"Oh," He said with a tone of surprise in his voice. "Hey Conor... what's up?"

[Guest Arie Ronshor]

 

"You look like shit."

 

The statement was obvious, and it was not just Fiors appearance, but also the slumpped shoulders and the foul smell. Bloody.. what was that smell. Holding the door Conor looked to his best friend without really opening the door to let him in. Sahra would kill him if she smelled anything in the room that smelled like Fior did and he's get blame. Being the sucker for red heads, he chose to save his own skin instead.

 

Fior could barely muster a smile at Connor's comment. He looked down at himself and for the first time realized that he had been wearing the same clothed for two days. In that time they had begun to mildew, and his tunic smelled strongly of vomit. Every inch of him ached from the beating he had recieved, and as he considered the sight he must be making, a short laugh burst from his lips.

 

"Oh Light, you wouldn't believe the day I've had." Tearing off his tunic and depositing it in the hallway to collect later, he tried his best to smile at Conor, though the smile was not echoed in his eyes. "Do you mind if I come in for a minute? I know it's late but..." He tried to smile again, but was overcome with a wave of fatigue. Then the doorway was falling away and the ceiling replacing it as he fell backwards.

 

Impassive, Conor watched Fior fall. He debated for a half second as to whether to catch him, but his reflexes were not fast enough after that half second resulted in the resounding thud of Fior falling to the ground. Closign the door behind him, Conor started to slightly slap his face to wake him up. "Hey, Horse-piss. Get up. You need to shower."

 

Conor's words were lost to him as the throbbing in his head began again, but the sharp slaps quickly brought him back to conciousness. Pushing his friend's hand away, he mustered up a weak grin that belied more tiredness than he intended. "A shower sounds great." He said, his eyes crossing slowly so that there were now two of Conor. "But I seem to be having minor difficulty standing." Letting his head loll to the side, he mumbled to no one in particular, "I must've fallen asleep for a second because I don't remember laying down." The more words he used, the harder they became to pronounce, and he looked up at Conor, a baffled gaze filling his eyes.

 

With a heavy sigh, Conor proceeded to help the smaller man up, attempting to not gag from the smell. "You fell because you're drunk. Gone for two days. Where have you been, man? Sahra won't speak a word to me, and I hear all this crying at night. You screwed up good, Fior." After getting Fior to stand, Conner took his arm around his neck and started to lead him to the bathhouse. "And you can't let her see you looking like this. It will only make it worse for you."

 

 

 

 

Fior & Conor (NSW - for now)

[Guest Arie Ronshor]

Fior tried to protest as Conor half lead, half dragged him to the bathhouse. Nothing he managed to get out resembled words though, and eventually he settled in for the ride. He couldn't really focus on most of what was happening after that. It was simply a blur of hot water and soap until Conor tossed him bodily into the cold pools. The shock dragged Fior from his stupor and he was able to focus again, despite the throbbing that persisted in his head. He knew he was still running a fever, and his entire body was shaking from the sudden cold.

 

Climbing out of the water, he looked over at Conor. "I guess I really stunk, huh? What happened?"

 

Picking up the soiled clothes that were on the floor, Conor dumped them into the waste basket. No point cleaning them as the leather was already destroyed by the urine. Save the girls in the servant quarters the trouble. Especially that one redhead he saw last week. Grabbing a towel, he tossed it to the edge of the tub. "I should ask you the same. What's this about you and Sahra in Arans room? Are you a complete woolhead? Or is your death wish worse than I thought. Cairma would put you through a fair beating finding you like this. Hell, I'd not have come back if I were you." Leaning against the wall she folded his large arms across his chest not looking at Fior but staring at the wall in front of him.

 

 

 

 

Fior & Conor