(no subject)

[anewlanguage]

Everyone make it back?

[he's, perhaps, a little more gruff than usual. And also he's bandaging his own arm, which promptly stains right through the bandage, and he tsks and applies heavier pressure to it.]

I think it's about time for another camping trip.

Comments

[private]

[routemistress]

[She shrugs, self-deprecating tinged with embarrassment.]

Friendly fire. You know 'ow our Marsh can get around anything psychic.

[Easily hijacked, with his nonexistent defenses, is what she means.]

I could've left it for Jean to deal with, she's got range and I don't, but ...I know what it does to 'im. I couldn't just leave 'im.

[private]

[anewlanguage]

Yeah I understand. I'm glad you gave him a hand. [He says it with the tiniest smile, like he might have been thinking of that as a pun]

[private]

[routemistress]

I see what you did there.

[Her laugh is immediate and genuine, but part of it is relief: she would never have asked aloud whether taking risks for Marsh's peace of mind counted as That Thing Iris Isn't Going To Do Any More, but nor was she completely certain it wouldn't.]

I'm coming up to look at that, I prefer you with all your blood in you, ta very much. I'll bring duct tape.

Re: [private]

[anewlanguage]

And a stick for me to bite on.

[Which is his way of saying he'll unlock the door for her (just her).]

[private > spam]

[routemistress]

I bet I can find summat more fun to bite on than that.

[Said with the patented, wide-eyed Irisian innocent face.

She's there a few minutes later, loaded up with antiseptic spray, local anaesthetic, synthetic skin gel and whisky.]

I'd've put on a naughty nurse outfit but the only one I've got's in Wade's size. So what did you get on the wrong side of, my love?

[spam]

[anewlanguage]

Eh, the usual. It's gone now.

[It hadn't been a bad fight. It had been his fault, though: hearing his sins listed--screamed--at him, he'd lost his cool.]

[spam]

[routemistress]

[That gets him a cocked-head look, because when Cain can't spin something into a funny story, Iris knows it has to have got him on a really sore spot. And she's curious, of course she's curious, but mostly she's just concerned.

She doesn't speak further, only comes and starts working carefully on his injury. She doesn't in any way need to sit on his lap to do this, but it does happen to be workable, and when he hurts she wants to wrap her whole self protectively around him, mind and body and soul, so she goes for maximum contact and asks no questions.

She doesn't speak until she has the wound disinfected and covered to her satisfaction, with bonded organic polymers that will act as scabs until Cain's body finishes the job, and when she's done she tilts her head up to kiss him.]

I got caught in that room with the demons. Little Touko actually rescued me, can you credit it?

Re: [spam]

[anewlanguage]

Touko? Really? How'd that pan out?

[He can't quite picture it, but he wants to. It'll be nice to think of something other than his wrist--which he's massaging through the bandage--or the whole mess behind them. It's nice to be talking to Iris again like this, to see that she's injured but not view it through a lens of panic over her mental state. He's proud of her, for having risked her life for Marsh, and he knows that might seem hypocritical but he hopes she of all people will understand that it's not.]

[spam]

[routemistress]

It were a sort of temptation set up. Mason got caught in it and all; I saw our Tiffany tell you. It weren't quite that way with me - I mean, if it'd just been a roomful of pretty young men offering drinks and foot massage, I don't think I'd've fallen for that, you know? Not in a tower full of flipping ghosts.

[She curls in close, her head under his chin, and basks on the feeling of not being hurt and angry with each other. She's proud of him as well; whatever hurt him, he got free.]

But I were frantic about Mira. That's where they got in. They were promising to 'elp me, see? Only they'd be like, 'ere, there's time to sit down and 'ave a gin first, it'll be fine, we're on your side. A lot of guff about being a good mum.

[She's embarrassed; fortunately, her pride for Touko eclipses it easily.]

Touko come striding in like a little cross Valkyrie with a poker, all over green blood and slime where she'd killed one already. That were enough to break the spell, and I kicked out 'is kneecap then 'it im in the gob with them knuckledusters Babs gave me for Christmas. And Touko's graduated! I'm so pleased.

[spam]

[anewlanguage]

[He grins] You mean you wouldn't have fallen for it for long. I bet you would've let the ghosts paint a couple toenails before you shooed them away.

[He strokes her hair as he listens to the rest of the story, and he's still smiling at the end, no thoughts of his own time there in his head.]

I almost wondered if she'd ever get through and graduate. She's been around longer than me, you know? We oughta bake her a cake.

[spam]

[routemistress]

I am a sucker for a pedicure, it's true.

[Iris is way more susceptible to that sort of glamour than she'd like. And so very, very happy to be leaning on someone who charmed her with nothing but honesty.]

...that's a bloody good plan, my love. Let's do that. And maybe drive 'er home. Or wherever she's going. I'm going to miss 'er.

Re: [spam]

[anewlanguage]

I never got to know her up close. What's her story?

[He's already gathering socks, boots. They'll go make a cake.]

[spam]

[routemistress]

I don't know a lot of it, but she's a writer. She's... I only know bits. Summat like a cross between boarding school and Arkham out your way, from the sound of it? She's got 'er own alter ego on board and all - the sort that splits off under really bad pressure, if you see what I mean.

I wonder what sort. I think summat refined like lemon drizzle cake. With crystallised flowers on it and maybe a touch of cardamom, does that sound good?