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While Lukos was stronger, that he had lost so much blood and was in and out of consciousness played to Kreios's favor as he gritted his teeth and laid heavily against the man he now pinned against the bed. The dark look Lukos threw at him only made Kreios roll his eyes, and then turn over to inspect how Neena was working, scowling at her flippant comment. "Focus." she snapped, growling again as the man thrashed and he had to reinforce his strength.
Maybe clubbing him so he would lose consciousness again would be kinder? Or maybe just dousing him with some alcohol. Both sounded to be wonderful choices, but both would involve the necessity of Kreios to lift one of his limbs to actually do it, and as Neena further stitched up the large gash, he did not think losing his hold on the pirate now would be a good idea.
Only when the Bedoan girl finished, and made it clear that she was done, did Kreios finally loosen his hold on the pirate, quickly crawling off and shaking his limbs to return circulation to them. He had pinched his blood vessals by pushing too hard against them.
Hopping off the bed where Lukos lay, he had been intending to grab a damp cloth to help Neena clean off her blood-soaked fingers when the girl stumbled, and on instinct, Kreios stepped forward to catch her by her shoulders. Tightening his grip there, his frown pinched the middle of his brows as he peered down at her, realizing just how tiny she was for the top of her head only reached the ends of his chin. "Take it slow," he muttered, letting on arm slid down her back to hold her by the waist. Half picking her up, the merchant guided her to a rickety old stool he had in his sparsely furnished house, ensuring Neena was seated so her legs could regain their feeling, before heading towards the door.
Heading out but leaving the door ajar, the dark-haired male hauled half a bucket of water, before heading back in. Setting the bucket on the table in front of Neena, the man picked up a cloth and started wiping the majority of the blood on her arms, dipping the stained cloth in the water to clean it before repeating the process again, whilst his eyes flickered over to the invalid. "Think he'll die?"
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While Lukos was stronger, that he had lost so much blood and was in and out of consciousness played to Kreios's favor as he gritted his teeth and laid heavily against the man he now pinned against the bed. The dark look Lukos threw at him only made Kreios roll his eyes, and then turn over to inspect how Neena was working, scowling at her flippant comment. "Focus." she snapped, growling again as the man thrashed and he had to reinforce his strength.
Maybe clubbing him so he would lose consciousness again would be kinder? Or maybe just dousing him with some alcohol. Both sounded to be wonderful choices, but both would involve the necessity of Kreios to lift one of his limbs to actually do it, and as Neena further stitched up the large gash, he did not think losing his hold on the pirate now would be a good idea.
Only when the Bedoan girl finished, and made it clear that she was done, did Kreios finally loosen his hold on the pirate, quickly crawling off and shaking his limbs to return circulation to them. He had pinched his blood vessals by pushing too hard against them.
Hopping off the bed where Lukos lay, he had been intending to grab a damp cloth to help Neena clean off her blood-soaked fingers when the girl stumbled, and on instinct, Kreios stepped forward to catch her by her shoulders. Tightening his grip there, his frown pinched the middle of his brows as he peered down at her, realizing just how tiny she was for the top of her head only reached the ends of his chin. "Take it slow," he muttered, letting on arm slid down her back to hold her by the waist. Half picking her up, the merchant guided her to a rickety old stool he had in his sparsely furnished house, ensuring Neena was seated so her legs could regain their feeling, before heading towards the door.
Heading out but leaving the door ajar, the dark-haired male hauled half a bucket of water, before heading back in. Setting the bucket on the table in front of Neena, the man picked up a cloth and started wiping the majority of the blood on her arms, dipping the stained cloth in the water to clean it before repeating the process again, whilst his eyes flickered over to the invalid. "Think he'll die?"
While Lukos was stronger, that he had lost so much blood and was in and out of consciousness played to Kreios's favor as he gritted his teeth and laid heavily against the man he now pinned against the bed. The dark look Lukos threw at him only made Kreios roll his eyes, and then turn over to inspect how Neena was working, scowling at her flippant comment. "Focus." she snapped, growling again as the man thrashed and he had to reinforce his strength.
Maybe clubbing him so he would lose consciousness again would be kinder? Or maybe just dousing him with some alcohol. Both sounded to be wonderful choices, but both would involve the necessity of Kreios to lift one of his limbs to actually do it, and as Neena further stitched up the large gash, he did not think losing his hold on the pirate now would be a good idea.
Only when the Bedoan girl finished, and made it clear that she was done, did Kreios finally loosen his hold on the pirate, quickly crawling off and shaking his limbs to return circulation to them. He had pinched his blood vessals by pushing too hard against them.
Hopping off the bed where Lukos lay, he had been intending to grab a damp cloth to help Neena clean off her blood-soaked fingers when the girl stumbled, and on instinct, Kreios stepped forward to catch her by her shoulders. Tightening his grip there, his frown pinched the middle of his brows as he peered down at her, realizing just how tiny she was for the top of her head only reached the ends of his chin. "Take it slow," he muttered, letting on arm slid down her back to hold her by the waist. Half picking her up, the merchant guided her to a rickety old stool he had in his sparsely furnished house, ensuring Neena was seated so her legs could regain their feeling, before heading towards the door.
Heading out but leaving the door ajar, the dark-haired male hauled half a bucket of water, before heading back in. Setting the bucket on the table in front of Neena, the man picked up a cloth and started wiping the majority of the blood on her arms, dipping the stained cloth in the water to clean it before repeating the process again, whilst his eyes flickered over to the invalid. "Think he'll die?"
When she stumbled - not through faintness or tiredness but simply the way her legs crumpled after being folded beneath her for so long - Neena was able to correct herself despite Kreios' help. Which was a good job because she was heartily surprised that he had stepped forward to offer his aid. His hands coming to rest on her shoulders, it was the closest the two of them had ever stood to one another and Neena was surprised to note how tall Kreios was. She had never noticed before, because she was generally looking down on him for being a grump. And doing so from a safe distance.
Her eyes shot wide when the helpful gesture of support turned into deliberate aid and Neena was unable to suppress a soft yelp of surprise as he had her half carried to a little seat. In any normal circumstance, she would have protested the invasion of her personal space - not to mention the audacity of taking control of her actions - probably by the thumping of her fists against him or simply pushing herself free.
But, when her hands were covered with the blood of Kreios' newly discovered friend, there wasn't a whole lot she could do without smearing the man in gory crimson. Ergo, she just had to lump it.
Without word or explanation, Kreios left the room, only to return a few minutes later to a Neena stretching out her legs and wiggling her toes, her feet turning in wide circles to regain feeling in her ankles and calves.
Kreios continued his surprising acts of care by reaching out to wash the blood from her hands and arms. Neena opened her mouth to insist that she was perfectly capable of doing it herself but in the eleventh hour, with the words resting on her tongue, she thought better of it. Sitting quietly - as rare for her as the caretaking seemed to be for him - Neena permitted the clean-up and simply watched as Kreios washed the scarlet from her skin, turning her hands and arms as he worked to help him reach everything.
When the man turned to look at the patient, his hands still working over cleaning up Neena's knuckles, she followed his gaze.
"Absolutely no idea." She told him with frank bluntness. "But I know he would have died otherwise. So..." She shrugged, her hands slipping in his hold. Her point was clear - better that she did what she had and then see what he Fates offered, than simply allowing him to die regardless.
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When she stumbled - not through faintness or tiredness but simply the way her legs crumpled after being folded beneath her for so long - Neena was able to correct herself despite Kreios' help. Which was a good job because she was heartily surprised that he had stepped forward to offer his aid. His hands coming to rest on her shoulders, it was the closest the two of them had ever stood to one another and Neena was surprised to note how tall Kreios was. She had never noticed before, because she was generally looking down on him for being a grump. And doing so from a safe distance.
Her eyes shot wide when the helpful gesture of support turned into deliberate aid and Neena was unable to suppress a soft yelp of surprise as he had her half carried to a little seat. In any normal circumstance, she would have protested the invasion of her personal space - not to mention the audacity of taking control of her actions - probably by the thumping of her fists against him or simply pushing herself free.
But, when her hands were covered with the blood of Kreios' newly discovered friend, there wasn't a whole lot she could do without smearing the man in gory crimson. Ergo, she just had to lump it.
Without word or explanation, Kreios left the room, only to return a few minutes later to a Neena stretching out her legs and wiggling her toes, her feet turning in wide circles to regain feeling in her ankles and calves.
Kreios continued his surprising acts of care by reaching out to wash the blood from her hands and arms. Neena opened her mouth to insist that she was perfectly capable of doing it herself but in the eleventh hour, with the words resting on her tongue, she thought better of it. Sitting quietly - as rare for her as the caretaking seemed to be for him - Neena permitted the clean-up and simply watched as Kreios washed the scarlet from her skin, turning her hands and arms as he worked to help him reach everything.
When the man turned to look at the patient, his hands still working over cleaning up Neena's knuckles, she followed his gaze.
"Absolutely no idea." She told him with frank bluntness. "But I know he would have died otherwise. So..." She shrugged, her hands slipping in his hold. Her point was clear - better that she did what she had and then see what he Fates offered, than simply allowing him to die regardless.
When she stumbled - not through faintness or tiredness but simply the way her legs crumpled after being folded beneath her for so long - Neena was able to correct herself despite Kreios' help. Which was a good job because she was heartily surprised that he had stepped forward to offer his aid. His hands coming to rest on her shoulders, it was the closest the two of them had ever stood to one another and Neena was surprised to note how tall Kreios was. She had never noticed before, because she was generally looking down on him for being a grump. And doing so from a safe distance.
Her eyes shot wide when the helpful gesture of support turned into deliberate aid and Neena was unable to suppress a soft yelp of surprise as he had her half carried to a little seat. In any normal circumstance, she would have protested the invasion of her personal space - not to mention the audacity of taking control of her actions - probably by the thumping of her fists against him or simply pushing herself free.
But, when her hands were covered with the blood of Kreios' newly discovered friend, there wasn't a whole lot she could do without smearing the man in gory crimson. Ergo, she just had to lump it.
Without word or explanation, Kreios left the room, only to return a few minutes later to a Neena stretching out her legs and wiggling her toes, her feet turning in wide circles to regain feeling in her ankles and calves.
Kreios continued his surprising acts of care by reaching out to wash the blood from her hands and arms. Neena opened her mouth to insist that she was perfectly capable of doing it herself but in the eleventh hour, with the words resting on her tongue, she thought better of it. Sitting quietly - as rare for her as the caretaking seemed to be for him - Neena permitted the clean-up and simply watched as Kreios washed the scarlet from her skin, turning her hands and arms as he worked to help him reach everything.
When the man turned to look at the patient, his hands still working over cleaning up Neena's knuckles, she followed his gaze.
"Absolutely no idea." She told him with frank bluntness. "But I know he would have died otherwise. So..." She shrugged, her hands slipping in his hold. Her point was clear - better that she did what she had and then see what he Fates offered, than simply allowing him to die regardless.
If he wasn’t recovering from being half dead and half drowned, he’d have been barking out orders at the two of them now. The first of the orders would have been to untie him. He couldn’t shift, couldn’t really move. He didn’t like being tied to anything, ever.
Instead, he lay there, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. His heart fluttered like a bird in his chest and he shivered as much from the residual shock of his body more than anything else. Having surgery like that performed on him, while awake, had been a special kind of torture. Adrenaline had coursed through his veins, keeping him horribly alert and fixated on what was going on.
Now, he lay silent and pale. Sweat coated his body and he realized after a few seconds that he was naked. Naked, cold, and gross. Blood was everywhere - a scent he usually didn’t mind, but it was all his. That rendered it distasteful.
“Kreios,” he croaked, finally tipping his head to the side and pulling one wrist against the ropes. A clear signal to knock off this game and untie him. He wanted to be able to move his legs, even if he didn’t have full range of motion, with his torso savaged the way it had been.
His mouth felt like it was full of sand and he smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few times. This was terrible. Equally terrible was that Kreios had trusted this stranger to do whatever she’d been doing. He wasn’t totally sure, except that she’d been hurting him and now had stopped. He’d have liked to explore the wound but he didn’t have that much motion with the ropes. His hand went just short of the wound. He couldn’t even reach his own hips, which was going to be a problem unless Kreios was going to be kind enough to aim for him.
“Kreios,” he rasped louder. “I have to pee.”
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If he wasn’t recovering from being half dead and half drowned, he’d have been barking out orders at the two of them now. The first of the orders would have been to untie him. He couldn’t shift, couldn’t really move. He didn’t like being tied to anything, ever.
Instead, he lay there, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. His heart fluttered like a bird in his chest and he shivered as much from the residual shock of his body more than anything else. Having surgery like that performed on him, while awake, had been a special kind of torture. Adrenaline had coursed through his veins, keeping him horribly alert and fixated on what was going on.
Now, he lay silent and pale. Sweat coated his body and he realized after a few seconds that he was naked. Naked, cold, and gross. Blood was everywhere - a scent he usually didn’t mind, but it was all his. That rendered it distasteful.
“Kreios,” he croaked, finally tipping his head to the side and pulling one wrist against the ropes. A clear signal to knock off this game and untie him. He wanted to be able to move his legs, even if he didn’t have full range of motion, with his torso savaged the way it had been.
His mouth felt like it was full of sand and he smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few times. This was terrible. Equally terrible was that Kreios had trusted this stranger to do whatever she’d been doing. He wasn’t totally sure, except that she’d been hurting him and now had stopped. He’d have liked to explore the wound but he didn’t have that much motion with the ropes. His hand went just short of the wound. He couldn’t even reach his own hips, which was going to be a problem unless Kreios was going to be kind enough to aim for him.
“Kreios,” he rasped louder. “I have to pee.”
If he wasn’t recovering from being half dead and half drowned, he’d have been barking out orders at the two of them now. The first of the orders would have been to untie him. He couldn’t shift, couldn’t really move. He didn’t like being tied to anything, ever.
Instead, he lay there, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. His heart fluttered like a bird in his chest and he shivered as much from the residual shock of his body more than anything else. Having surgery like that performed on him, while awake, had been a special kind of torture. Adrenaline had coursed through his veins, keeping him horribly alert and fixated on what was going on.
Now, he lay silent and pale. Sweat coated his body and he realized after a few seconds that he was naked. Naked, cold, and gross. Blood was everywhere - a scent he usually didn’t mind, but it was all his. That rendered it distasteful.
“Kreios,” he croaked, finally tipping his head to the side and pulling one wrist against the ropes. A clear signal to knock off this game and untie him. He wanted to be able to move his legs, even if he didn’t have full range of motion, with his torso savaged the way it had been.
His mouth felt like it was full of sand and he smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few times. This was terrible. Equally terrible was that Kreios had trusted this stranger to do whatever she’d been doing. He wasn’t totally sure, except that she’d been hurting him and now had stopped. He’d have liked to explore the wound but he didn’t have that much motion with the ropes. His hand went just short of the wound. He couldn’t even reach his own hips, which was going to be a problem unless Kreios was going to be kind enough to aim for him.
“Kreios,” he rasped louder. “I have to pee.”
Distracted by Kreios' touch, which was surprisingly gentle for a man of his stature and antagonistic attitude - or perhaps he just didn't want to touch her for some amusing reason - it took a few moments for Neena to notice that her first surgery experiment was stirring. Her eyes large and interested in the fact that he hadn't flat out died from her manhandling or inexperienced medical treatment, Neena leaned, her weight shifting to one butt cheek as she looked over Kreios' bent shoulder towards the man.
His voice, raspy and harsh from being on his back and without water for so long, but it was loud enough to be heard in the small room. Neena's pull lips spread into a grin of amusement at his entreaty to be let free so that he could respond to the call of nature.
"I don't think he's a fan of bondage." She commented to Kreios, deliberately speaking as if the patient wasn't there in her natural skill of making someone annoyed.
She nodded towards the bed.
"I've got this." She said, speaking of the hands he had almost entirely clean now. "You should give him a hand or that bed isn't going to be much use in the near future." She wrinkled her nose at the poisoner, as she took the damp cloth from his fingers and worked at the blood beneath her nails herself, her eyes watchful as she observed the man attend to his unwanted house guest.
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Distracted by Kreios' touch, which was surprisingly gentle for a man of his stature and antagonistic attitude - or perhaps he just didn't want to touch her for some amusing reason - it took a few moments for Neena to notice that her first surgery experiment was stirring. Her eyes large and interested in the fact that he hadn't flat out died from her manhandling or inexperienced medical treatment, Neena leaned, her weight shifting to one butt cheek as she looked over Kreios' bent shoulder towards the man.
His voice, raspy and harsh from being on his back and without water for so long, but it was loud enough to be heard in the small room. Neena's pull lips spread into a grin of amusement at his entreaty to be let free so that he could respond to the call of nature.
"I don't think he's a fan of bondage." She commented to Kreios, deliberately speaking as if the patient wasn't there in her natural skill of making someone annoyed.
She nodded towards the bed.
"I've got this." She said, speaking of the hands he had almost entirely clean now. "You should give him a hand or that bed isn't going to be much use in the near future." She wrinkled her nose at the poisoner, as she took the damp cloth from his fingers and worked at the blood beneath her nails herself, her eyes watchful as she observed the man attend to his unwanted house guest.
Distracted by Kreios' touch, which was surprisingly gentle for a man of his stature and antagonistic attitude - or perhaps he just didn't want to touch her for some amusing reason - it took a few moments for Neena to notice that her first surgery experiment was stirring. Her eyes large and interested in the fact that he hadn't flat out died from her manhandling or inexperienced medical treatment, Neena leaned, her weight shifting to one butt cheek as she looked over Kreios' bent shoulder towards the man.
His voice, raspy and harsh from being on his back and without water for so long, but it was loud enough to be heard in the small room. Neena's pull lips spread into a grin of amusement at his entreaty to be let free so that he could respond to the call of nature.
"I don't think he's a fan of bondage." She commented to Kreios, deliberately speaking as if the patient wasn't there in her natural skill of making someone annoyed.
She nodded towards the bed.
"I've got this." She said, speaking of the hands he had almost entirely clean now. "You should give him a hand or that bed isn't going to be much use in the near future." She wrinkled her nose at the poisoner, as she took the damp cloth from his fingers and worked at the blood beneath her nails herself, her eyes watchful as she observed the man attend to his unwanted house guest.
The water turned red quicker then he expected, but it was sufficient for him to get most of the liquid off her skin. Any extra cleaning she would have to do in the river just behind his cottage once she had enough feeling in her limbs, but for now at least it would ensure the insides of his living quarters weren't going to end up looking like a horror story for a bit. He would probably have to change the water though, cause now it just looked as if he was streaking on more blood over her arms even as he wiped.
Throwing the rag inside the now crimson liquid, and quickly rinsing his hands in the bucket, Kreios had just been about to head out and dump the dirty water to get some new ones and finish up the job when the stirrings of the invalid halted his movements, and the man turned his focus on Lukos. That he was still alive was little blessings in itself, but when the man croaked his name, his brows furrowed. There was no request that could be good from him.
Sure enough, the next words almost had Kreios throwing the bucket of bloody water on the injured pirate, not caring for the fact that he currently incapable of even taking care of his own bodily needs. Kreios was someone who valued his privacy, and to help the man pee? That grated on his every nerve, and some he didn't even knew he head.
His expression turned as dark as midnight itself, but even as it did so, he recognized the truth in Neena's words. Growling at the back of his throat, he pushed the bucket back to the woman, before stalking over to the bed like a panther on the prowl, giving Lukos a clearly unhappy look as he began working on the bindings Kreios had tied his wrists with. "You owe me, pirate." He snarled, harshly yanking away the thick burlap rope, before roughly taking an arm.
Holding one arm over his shoulder, Kreios slipped another arm to the waist of the pirate, careful to not touch the area where Neena had sutured up. Only then, did he use his own body weight to bring Lukos off the bed. "Walk." he growled again, a command more then a question of if Lukos could walk. Because this was the limit that the merchant would go - he wasn't going to carry the pirate bridal style, not even if one paid him the greatest amount of gold.
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The water turned red quicker then he expected, but it was sufficient for him to get most of the liquid off her skin. Any extra cleaning she would have to do in the river just behind his cottage once she had enough feeling in her limbs, but for now at least it would ensure the insides of his living quarters weren't going to end up looking like a horror story for a bit. He would probably have to change the water though, cause now it just looked as if he was streaking on more blood over her arms even as he wiped.
Throwing the rag inside the now crimson liquid, and quickly rinsing his hands in the bucket, Kreios had just been about to head out and dump the dirty water to get some new ones and finish up the job when the stirrings of the invalid halted his movements, and the man turned his focus on Lukos. That he was still alive was little blessings in itself, but when the man croaked his name, his brows furrowed. There was no request that could be good from him.
Sure enough, the next words almost had Kreios throwing the bucket of bloody water on the injured pirate, not caring for the fact that he currently incapable of even taking care of his own bodily needs. Kreios was someone who valued his privacy, and to help the man pee? That grated on his every nerve, and some he didn't even knew he head.
His expression turned as dark as midnight itself, but even as it did so, he recognized the truth in Neena's words. Growling at the back of his throat, he pushed the bucket back to the woman, before stalking over to the bed like a panther on the prowl, giving Lukos a clearly unhappy look as he began working on the bindings Kreios had tied his wrists with. "You owe me, pirate." He snarled, harshly yanking away the thick burlap rope, before roughly taking an arm.
Holding one arm over his shoulder, Kreios slipped another arm to the waist of the pirate, careful to not touch the area where Neena had sutured up. Only then, did he use his own body weight to bring Lukos off the bed. "Walk." he growled again, a command more then a question of if Lukos could walk. Because this was the limit that the merchant would go - he wasn't going to carry the pirate bridal style, not even if one paid him the greatest amount of gold.
The water turned red quicker then he expected, but it was sufficient for him to get most of the liquid off her skin. Any extra cleaning she would have to do in the river just behind his cottage once she had enough feeling in her limbs, but for now at least it would ensure the insides of his living quarters weren't going to end up looking like a horror story for a bit. He would probably have to change the water though, cause now it just looked as if he was streaking on more blood over her arms even as he wiped.
Throwing the rag inside the now crimson liquid, and quickly rinsing his hands in the bucket, Kreios had just been about to head out and dump the dirty water to get some new ones and finish up the job when the stirrings of the invalid halted his movements, and the man turned his focus on Lukos. That he was still alive was little blessings in itself, but when the man croaked his name, his brows furrowed. There was no request that could be good from him.
Sure enough, the next words almost had Kreios throwing the bucket of bloody water on the injured pirate, not caring for the fact that he currently incapable of even taking care of his own bodily needs. Kreios was someone who valued his privacy, and to help the man pee? That grated on his every nerve, and some he didn't even knew he head.
His expression turned as dark as midnight itself, but even as it did so, he recognized the truth in Neena's words. Growling at the back of his throat, he pushed the bucket back to the woman, before stalking over to the bed like a panther on the prowl, giving Lukos a clearly unhappy look as he began working on the bindings Kreios had tied his wrists with. "You owe me, pirate." He snarled, harshly yanking away the thick burlap rope, before roughly taking an arm.
Holding one arm over his shoulder, Kreios slipped another arm to the waist of the pirate, careful to not touch the area where Neena had sutured up. Only then, did he use his own body weight to bring Lukos off the bed. "Walk." he growled again, a command more then a question of if Lukos could walk. Because this was the limit that the merchant would go - he wasn't going to carry the pirate bridal style, not even if one paid him the greatest amount of gold.
If he’d had more energy, he might have mocked the girl. With her back to him, he couldn’t see her wrinkle her nose but he could hear the distaste in her voice. What was she doing here in Kreios’s house? It was odd to see someone from Bedoa in Greece. He couldn’t imagine she was from anywhere else. That she was speaking Greek was still more surprising. All these riddles and he just didn’t have it in him to get in her face and question her until she pushed him away.
The growl from Kreios was only mildly amusing. Mostly he just wanted untied and basically threatening Kreios’s bed was a great way to make that happen. Kreios was none too gentle as he unknoted the bindings. If Lukos had been stronger, he might have been able to get himself free. Those knots weren’t sailor’s knots. They could have been undone if he’d been alone long enough and using his teeth. Here again, though, Fate favored him, because Kreios not only untied him, but hauled him up.
At least, he’d assumed it was a favor, but as soon as there was any sort of strain on the sutures, Lukos gasped, then growled at Kreios. “Gently, you ass.” He dearly wanted to strangle Kreios right now for the unnecessarily rough treatment. After all, Kreios was the one who’d fished him out of the water. He didn’t remember begging.
Thankfully, Kreios didn’t want to carry Lukos bridal style because Lukos didn’t want that either. He glared at Kreios and rasped out, “Slow.” Together, they made it through the house to the open back door. From there, they edged their way until he was at a place that Kreios felt comfortable letting him finally relieve himself. There was a tree right beside him and he leaned heavily on it, tilting his temple against the rough bark.
The very last thing he clearly remembered was being in the tavern with that whore. After that, his memory was hazy due to the alcohol and the trauma to his side. He glanced up at the sky and gauged it to be just before sunrise. That would explain the lack of moon. Kreios didn’t seem to have many neighbors, or someone might have been asking questions as to why there was a naked man just leaning on a tree in the backyard.
At last, he was ready to be taken back into the house and he hooked an arm around Kreios, needing to walk extremely slow. Even this was making his side bleed again. Every step made the wound burn and by the time he got back in the house, he was sweating and ready to be unconscious again.
“Don’t you have some...pain shit?” he asked, trying to breathe normally, but he was sucking in air sharply through his gritted teeth and fooling no one. This fucking hurt. A lot.
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If he’d had more energy, he might have mocked the girl. With her back to him, he couldn’t see her wrinkle her nose but he could hear the distaste in her voice. What was she doing here in Kreios’s house? It was odd to see someone from Bedoa in Greece. He couldn’t imagine she was from anywhere else. That she was speaking Greek was still more surprising. All these riddles and he just didn’t have it in him to get in her face and question her until she pushed him away.
The growl from Kreios was only mildly amusing. Mostly he just wanted untied and basically threatening Kreios’s bed was a great way to make that happen. Kreios was none too gentle as he unknoted the bindings. If Lukos had been stronger, he might have been able to get himself free. Those knots weren’t sailor’s knots. They could have been undone if he’d been alone long enough and using his teeth. Here again, though, Fate favored him, because Kreios not only untied him, but hauled him up.
At least, he’d assumed it was a favor, but as soon as there was any sort of strain on the sutures, Lukos gasped, then growled at Kreios. “Gently, you ass.” He dearly wanted to strangle Kreios right now for the unnecessarily rough treatment. After all, Kreios was the one who’d fished him out of the water. He didn’t remember begging.
Thankfully, Kreios didn’t want to carry Lukos bridal style because Lukos didn’t want that either. He glared at Kreios and rasped out, “Slow.” Together, they made it through the house to the open back door. From there, they edged their way until he was at a place that Kreios felt comfortable letting him finally relieve himself. There was a tree right beside him and he leaned heavily on it, tilting his temple against the rough bark.
The very last thing he clearly remembered was being in the tavern with that whore. After that, his memory was hazy due to the alcohol and the trauma to his side. He glanced up at the sky and gauged it to be just before sunrise. That would explain the lack of moon. Kreios didn’t seem to have many neighbors, or someone might have been asking questions as to why there was a naked man just leaning on a tree in the backyard.
At last, he was ready to be taken back into the house and he hooked an arm around Kreios, needing to walk extremely slow. Even this was making his side bleed again. Every step made the wound burn and by the time he got back in the house, he was sweating and ready to be unconscious again.
“Don’t you have some...pain shit?” he asked, trying to breathe normally, but he was sucking in air sharply through his gritted teeth and fooling no one. This fucking hurt. A lot.
If he’d had more energy, he might have mocked the girl. With her back to him, he couldn’t see her wrinkle her nose but he could hear the distaste in her voice. What was she doing here in Kreios’s house? It was odd to see someone from Bedoa in Greece. He couldn’t imagine she was from anywhere else. That she was speaking Greek was still more surprising. All these riddles and he just didn’t have it in him to get in her face and question her until she pushed him away.
The growl from Kreios was only mildly amusing. Mostly he just wanted untied and basically threatening Kreios’s bed was a great way to make that happen. Kreios was none too gentle as he unknoted the bindings. If Lukos had been stronger, he might have been able to get himself free. Those knots weren’t sailor’s knots. They could have been undone if he’d been alone long enough and using his teeth. Here again, though, Fate favored him, because Kreios not only untied him, but hauled him up.
At least, he’d assumed it was a favor, but as soon as there was any sort of strain on the sutures, Lukos gasped, then growled at Kreios. “Gently, you ass.” He dearly wanted to strangle Kreios right now for the unnecessarily rough treatment. After all, Kreios was the one who’d fished him out of the water. He didn’t remember begging.
Thankfully, Kreios didn’t want to carry Lukos bridal style because Lukos didn’t want that either. He glared at Kreios and rasped out, “Slow.” Together, they made it through the house to the open back door. From there, they edged their way until he was at a place that Kreios felt comfortable letting him finally relieve himself. There was a tree right beside him and he leaned heavily on it, tilting his temple against the rough bark.
The very last thing he clearly remembered was being in the tavern with that whore. After that, his memory was hazy due to the alcohol and the trauma to his side. He glanced up at the sky and gauged it to be just before sunrise. That would explain the lack of moon. Kreios didn’t seem to have many neighbors, or someone might have been asking questions as to why there was a naked man just leaning on a tree in the backyard.
At last, he was ready to be taken back into the house and he hooked an arm around Kreios, needing to walk extremely slow. Even this was making his side bleed again. Every step made the wound burn and by the time he got back in the house, he was sweating and ready to be unconscious again.
“Don’t you have some...pain shit?” he asked, trying to breathe normally, but he was sucking in air sharply through his gritted teeth and fooling no one. This fucking hurt. A lot.
Kreios was not, by any means, a man who found happiness from helping others. In fact, with his line of work, he rarely if ever provided assistance to someone who would thank him in return. Most of his clients were those with desperation in their eyes, or those eager to seek power and gold. It was them who had jaded his views, and the man simply did not see why or how he should help others. They can help themselves, and if they can't.... well, he'll let natural selection take its course.
The man rolled his eyes at Lukos's hiss. Oh, he knew he was causing pain, but the thing was, Kreios didn't particularly care. As long as he didn't die, he couldn't really be bothered. The only thing the poison merchant couldn't stand was letting a life away in front of him. But that didn't mean he had to be gentle about prolonging life.
Taking a step back as the pirate did his business, he scowled again when Lukos stepped back, and ignored the earlier command to go slow. Instead, the man hauled him at a pace likely quicker then Lukos would've enjoyed, too eager to get this chore over and done with. Making another mental note to go and get someone else to do all this unsavory things for him the next day at the slave market in Vasiliadon, the man neared the entrance before Lukos's raspy voice made him roll his eyes again.
"Being unconscious helps with the pain. I'll knock you out later, would that help?" he sarcastically retorted with a sharp tone, as they entered the dim house. His dark irises flickered over to Neena briefly, before Kreios brought Lukos back to the bed, and then left him there to let himself lay back down (or let gravity do its work, Kreios really didn't care which). "The man's being a pussy again. He says it hurts. Do something." Kreios growled out, going to pick up the bucket filled with bloodied water again before walking out to clean it.
He simply couldn't believe he was playing errand boy to him.
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Kreios was not, by any means, a man who found happiness from helping others. In fact, with his line of work, he rarely if ever provided assistance to someone who would thank him in return. Most of his clients were those with desperation in their eyes, or those eager to seek power and gold. It was them who had jaded his views, and the man simply did not see why or how he should help others. They can help themselves, and if they can't.... well, he'll let natural selection take its course.
The man rolled his eyes at Lukos's hiss. Oh, he knew he was causing pain, but the thing was, Kreios didn't particularly care. As long as he didn't die, he couldn't really be bothered. The only thing the poison merchant couldn't stand was letting a life away in front of him. But that didn't mean he had to be gentle about prolonging life.
Taking a step back as the pirate did his business, he scowled again when Lukos stepped back, and ignored the earlier command to go slow. Instead, the man hauled him at a pace likely quicker then Lukos would've enjoyed, too eager to get this chore over and done with. Making another mental note to go and get someone else to do all this unsavory things for him the next day at the slave market in Vasiliadon, the man neared the entrance before Lukos's raspy voice made him roll his eyes again.
"Being unconscious helps with the pain. I'll knock you out later, would that help?" he sarcastically retorted with a sharp tone, as they entered the dim house. His dark irises flickered over to Neena briefly, before Kreios brought Lukos back to the bed, and then left him there to let himself lay back down (or let gravity do its work, Kreios really didn't care which). "The man's being a pussy again. He says it hurts. Do something." Kreios growled out, going to pick up the bucket filled with bloodied water again before walking out to clean it.
He simply couldn't believe he was playing errand boy to him.
Kreios was not, by any means, a man who found happiness from helping others. In fact, with his line of work, he rarely if ever provided assistance to someone who would thank him in return. Most of his clients were those with desperation in their eyes, or those eager to seek power and gold. It was them who had jaded his views, and the man simply did not see why or how he should help others. They can help themselves, and if they can't.... well, he'll let natural selection take its course.
The man rolled his eyes at Lukos's hiss. Oh, he knew he was causing pain, but the thing was, Kreios didn't particularly care. As long as he didn't die, he couldn't really be bothered. The only thing the poison merchant couldn't stand was letting a life away in front of him. But that didn't mean he had to be gentle about prolonging life.
Taking a step back as the pirate did his business, he scowled again when Lukos stepped back, and ignored the earlier command to go slow. Instead, the man hauled him at a pace likely quicker then Lukos would've enjoyed, too eager to get this chore over and done with. Making another mental note to go and get someone else to do all this unsavory things for him the next day at the slave market in Vasiliadon, the man neared the entrance before Lukos's raspy voice made him roll his eyes again.
"Being unconscious helps with the pain. I'll knock you out later, would that help?" he sarcastically retorted with a sharp tone, as they entered the dim house. His dark irises flickered over to Neena briefly, before Kreios brought Lukos back to the bed, and then left him there to let himself lay back down (or let gravity do its work, Kreios really didn't care which). "The man's being a pussy again. He says it hurts. Do something." Kreios growled out, going to pick up the bucket filled with bloodied water again before walking out to clean it.
He simply couldn't believe he was playing errand boy to him.
As the two men took care of business in a halting and awkward two-man walk from the bedroom, Neena was tempted to follow them. She needed to empty out the bucket propped between her knees and refill the container from the well she assumed Kreios had in his backyard, if his speed at acquiring fresh water was anything to go by.
In truth, she had absolutely zero issue with following the pirate's bare arse out the door and into the first rays of morning sunshine, playing witness to his bathroom antics and then following them back in. Neena lived on the streets. There was literally nothing that she hadn't seen before. She had zero shame in witnessing other people's embarrassment and little shyness of her own.
But she also knew how sensitive men were about having an audience when they peed. And it was best that the man was made horizontal again as soon as possible. They didn't need the delay of stage fright.
As such, she remained in the bedroom pretty much kicking her heels as the water was now dark enough that it was almost useless for cleaning and she had little else she could do with only half-cleansed hands. It was only when she heard the shuffling gait of the two men returning that she stood from her stool, picked up the bucket of water with more strength than a woman of her size would normally contain and headed out into the hallway where she could step to one side, allow Kreios and his patient to enter back into the room, and then hurry outside in order to relieve the bucket of its contents and refresh.
Once she had cleaned up the rest of her hands, Neena replenished once more, ensuring fresh water when she returned to the living quarters of Kreios' home. Upon re-entry of the room, Neena found Kreios helping the patient back onto his back on the bed and the pirate himself complaining about the pain. And Neena didn't blame him. The guy had to be in agony.
When Kreios looked towards her as if checking that medication for such pain would be suitable after her treatment of the man, she simply nodded. The pain medication would do nothing to halt the healing of the surgical solution she had doctored to his middle.
"Why don't you make him something for it then? I'll watch him if you need to go and prepare something." She told the poison peddler, sure that a man as knowledgeable of herbs and medicinal plants would be able to put together a simple pain relief remedy.
But the man had left the room with a throw-away instruction for her to basically deal with it and she was left alone with the patient, her eyes dim with a look of resentment at the door.
She dragged her little stool over to the side of the bed where her patient now lay and plonked herself down. She planted her bare feet, her knees spread and the short gossamer tunic falling between her thighs to protect her modesty, despite the shift of fabric seeming to be of no interest or consequence to the girl; mere coincidence that she hadn't displayed all she had to show to this complete stranger.
"Hey, I'm Neena." She greeted with a bright smile in the middle of her dark face. She spoke in Greek as the two men did. "And I think I should probably say congratulations." Her eyes were bright and she gave no further explanation of her comments, simply waiting on his response.
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As the two men took care of business in a halting and awkward two-man walk from the bedroom, Neena was tempted to follow them. She needed to empty out the bucket propped between her knees and refill the container from the well she assumed Kreios had in his backyard, if his speed at acquiring fresh water was anything to go by.
In truth, she had absolutely zero issue with following the pirate's bare arse out the door and into the first rays of morning sunshine, playing witness to his bathroom antics and then following them back in. Neena lived on the streets. There was literally nothing that she hadn't seen before. She had zero shame in witnessing other people's embarrassment and little shyness of her own.
But she also knew how sensitive men were about having an audience when they peed. And it was best that the man was made horizontal again as soon as possible. They didn't need the delay of stage fright.
As such, she remained in the bedroom pretty much kicking her heels as the water was now dark enough that it was almost useless for cleaning and she had little else she could do with only half-cleansed hands. It was only when she heard the shuffling gait of the two men returning that she stood from her stool, picked up the bucket of water with more strength than a woman of her size would normally contain and headed out into the hallway where she could step to one side, allow Kreios and his patient to enter back into the room, and then hurry outside in order to relieve the bucket of its contents and refresh.
Once she had cleaned up the rest of her hands, Neena replenished once more, ensuring fresh water when she returned to the living quarters of Kreios' home. Upon re-entry of the room, Neena found Kreios helping the patient back onto his back on the bed and the pirate himself complaining about the pain. And Neena didn't blame him. The guy had to be in agony.
When Kreios looked towards her as if checking that medication for such pain would be suitable after her treatment of the man, she simply nodded. The pain medication would do nothing to halt the healing of the surgical solution she had doctored to his middle.
"Why don't you make him something for it then? I'll watch him if you need to go and prepare something." She told the poison peddler, sure that a man as knowledgeable of herbs and medicinal plants would be able to put together a simple pain relief remedy.
But the man had left the room with a throw-away instruction for her to basically deal with it and she was left alone with the patient, her eyes dim with a look of resentment at the door.
She dragged her little stool over to the side of the bed where her patient now lay and plonked herself down. She planted her bare feet, her knees spread and the short gossamer tunic falling between her thighs to protect her modesty, despite the shift of fabric seeming to be of no interest or consequence to the girl; mere coincidence that she hadn't displayed all she had to show to this complete stranger.
"Hey, I'm Neena." She greeted with a bright smile in the middle of her dark face. She spoke in Greek as the two men did. "And I think I should probably say congratulations." Her eyes were bright and she gave no further explanation of her comments, simply waiting on his response.
As the two men took care of business in a halting and awkward two-man walk from the bedroom, Neena was tempted to follow them. She needed to empty out the bucket propped between her knees and refill the container from the well she assumed Kreios had in his backyard, if his speed at acquiring fresh water was anything to go by.
In truth, she had absolutely zero issue with following the pirate's bare arse out the door and into the first rays of morning sunshine, playing witness to his bathroom antics and then following them back in. Neena lived on the streets. There was literally nothing that she hadn't seen before. She had zero shame in witnessing other people's embarrassment and little shyness of her own.
But she also knew how sensitive men were about having an audience when they peed. And it was best that the man was made horizontal again as soon as possible. They didn't need the delay of stage fright.
As such, she remained in the bedroom pretty much kicking her heels as the water was now dark enough that it was almost useless for cleaning and she had little else she could do with only half-cleansed hands. It was only when she heard the shuffling gait of the two men returning that she stood from her stool, picked up the bucket of water with more strength than a woman of her size would normally contain and headed out into the hallway where she could step to one side, allow Kreios and his patient to enter back into the room, and then hurry outside in order to relieve the bucket of its contents and refresh.
Once she had cleaned up the rest of her hands, Neena replenished once more, ensuring fresh water when she returned to the living quarters of Kreios' home. Upon re-entry of the room, Neena found Kreios helping the patient back onto his back on the bed and the pirate himself complaining about the pain. And Neena didn't blame him. The guy had to be in agony.
When Kreios looked towards her as if checking that medication for such pain would be suitable after her treatment of the man, she simply nodded. The pain medication would do nothing to halt the healing of the surgical solution she had doctored to his middle.
"Why don't you make him something for it then? I'll watch him if you need to go and prepare something." She told the poison peddler, sure that a man as knowledgeable of herbs and medicinal plants would be able to put together a simple pain relief remedy.
But the man had left the room with a throw-away instruction for her to basically deal with it and she was left alone with the patient, her eyes dim with a look of resentment at the door.
She dragged her little stool over to the side of the bed where her patient now lay and plonked herself down. She planted her bare feet, her knees spread and the short gossamer tunic falling between her thighs to protect her modesty, despite the shift of fabric seeming to be of no interest or consequence to the girl; mere coincidence that she hadn't displayed all she had to show to this complete stranger.
"Hey, I'm Neena." She greeted with a bright smile in the middle of her dark face. She spoke in Greek as the two men did. "And I think I should probably say congratulations." Her eyes were bright and she gave no further explanation of her comments, simply waiting on his response.
"Being unconscious helps with the pain. I'll knock you out later, would that help?" Kreios’s biting retort was unpleasant and grating.
“Your personality needs some work,” Lukos growled. “And that’s coming from me, so you know you’ve definitely got some improvements to make.” He did not appreciate being hefted around in the uncaring manner that Kreios was performing this little favor. Did the poison merchant fish him out of the sea just to undo all the hard work that the foreign girl had done? He wasn’t complaining because he was being whiny. He’d been fucking stabbed. His body had a literal, gaping wound that was now seeping blood down his side. Kreios was the one being whiny.
Lukos groaned in both irritation and actual anguish. His side burned and ached in equal measure as he slid his way back down to a semi comfortable position. He shot Kreios a look of outright fury when the poison merchant said to the woman, "The man's being a pussy again. He says it hurts. Do something."
“That’s it,” Lukos said as soon as Kreios had left the room in a self righteous huff of moronic superiority. “As soon as I am able, I’m slitting his throat.”
The girl murmured something to Kreios that Lukos didn’t quite catch. Her tongue was accented and he was focusing on trying to lie flat on the bed. He hadn’t bothered with the blanket or with modesty. He was way, way past caring who saw him naked. What did concern him was his wound and he was trying to look at it as much as he was able when she dragged the stool up to the side of the bed and sat down.
"Hey, I'm Neena,” she greeted in an unbelievably cheerful tone.
“Lukos,” he said without looking at her. His fingers were gingerly testing the skin around the wound and coming away glistening red. “That moron,” he muttered. With a long suffering sigh, he finally turned his attention to Neena as she went on.
"And I think I should probably say congratulations."
His brows knitted together and he didn’t bother to dull the confused, irritated expression on his face. He looked her over. Over the stench of blood, he could smell the familiar scent of what he thought of as ‘ship’ on her. It wasn’t that people were horribly unwashed, exactly, but he could always, always tell when someone had disembarked a ship. He guessed that she’d sailed with Kreios, though why was a great question.
“Congratulations for what?” he sagged against the pillow, dragging his dark eyes away from her and flicking them up to the ceiling. Drawing in as deep a breath as he dared, he moved his left arm up over his eyes and rested in the crook of his elbow. “The vacation that is Kreios’s disgustingly small shack?”
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"Being unconscious helps with the pain. I'll knock you out later, would that help?" Kreios’s biting retort was unpleasant and grating.
“Your personality needs some work,” Lukos growled. “And that’s coming from me, so you know you’ve definitely got some improvements to make.” He did not appreciate being hefted around in the uncaring manner that Kreios was performing this little favor. Did the poison merchant fish him out of the sea just to undo all the hard work that the foreign girl had done? He wasn’t complaining because he was being whiny. He’d been fucking stabbed. His body had a literal, gaping wound that was now seeping blood down his side. Kreios was the one being whiny.
Lukos groaned in both irritation and actual anguish. His side burned and ached in equal measure as he slid his way back down to a semi comfortable position. He shot Kreios a look of outright fury when the poison merchant said to the woman, "The man's being a pussy again. He says it hurts. Do something."
“That’s it,” Lukos said as soon as Kreios had left the room in a self righteous huff of moronic superiority. “As soon as I am able, I’m slitting his throat.”
The girl murmured something to Kreios that Lukos didn’t quite catch. Her tongue was accented and he was focusing on trying to lie flat on the bed. He hadn’t bothered with the blanket or with modesty. He was way, way past caring who saw him naked. What did concern him was his wound and he was trying to look at it as much as he was able when she dragged the stool up to the side of the bed and sat down.
"Hey, I'm Neena,” she greeted in an unbelievably cheerful tone.
“Lukos,” he said without looking at her. His fingers were gingerly testing the skin around the wound and coming away glistening red. “That moron,” he muttered. With a long suffering sigh, he finally turned his attention to Neena as she went on.
"And I think I should probably say congratulations."
His brows knitted together and he didn’t bother to dull the confused, irritated expression on his face. He looked her over. Over the stench of blood, he could smell the familiar scent of what he thought of as ‘ship’ on her. It wasn’t that people were horribly unwashed, exactly, but he could always, always tell when someone had disembarked a ship. He guessed that she’d sailed with Kreios, though why was a great question.
“Congratulations for what?” he sagged against the pillow, dragging his dark eyes away from her and flicking them up to the ceiling. Drawing in as deep a breath as he dared, he moved his left arm up over his eyes and rested in the crook of his elbow. “The vacation that is Kreios’s disgustingly small shack?”
"Being unconscious helps with the pain. I'll knock you out later, would that help?" Kreios’s biting retort was unpleasant and grating.
“Your personality needs some work,” Lukos growled. “And that’s coming from me, so you know you’ve definitely got some improvements to make.” He did not appreciate being hefted around in the uncaring manner that Kreios was performing this little favor. Did the poison merchant fish him out of the sea just to undo all the hard work that the foreign girl had done? He wasn’t complaining because he was being whiny. He’d been fucking stabbed. His body had a literal, gaping wound that was now seeping blood down his side. Kreios was the one being whiny.
Lukos groaned in both irritation and actual anguish. His side burned and ached in equal measure as he slid his way back down to a semi comfortable position. He shot Kreios a look of outright fury when the poison merchant said to the woman, "The man's being a pussy again. He says it hurts. Do something."
“That’s it,” Lukos said as soon as Kreios had left the room in a self righteous huff of moronic superiority. “As soon as I am able, I’m slitting his throat.”
The girl murmured something to Kreios that Lukos didn’t quite catch. Her tongue was accented and he was focusing on trying to lie flat on the bed. He hadn’t bothered with the blanket or with modesty. He was way, way past caring who saw him naked. What did concern him was his wound and he was trying to look at it as much as he was able when she dragged the stool up to the side of the bed and sat down.
"Hey, I'm Neena,” she greeted in an unbelievably cheerful tone.
“Lukos,” he said without looking at her. His fingers were gingerly testing the skin around the wound and coming away glistening red. “That moron,” he muttered. With a long suffering sigh, he finally turned his attention to Neena as she went on.
"And I think I should probably say congratulations."
His brows knitted together and he didn’t bother to dull the confused, irritated expression on his face. He looked her over. Over the stench of blood, he could smell the familiar scent of what he thought of as ‘ship’ on her. It wasn’t that people were horribly unwashed, exactly, but he could always, always tell when someone had disembarked a ship. He guessed that she’d sailed with Kreios, though why was a great question.
“Congratulations for what?” he sagged against the pillow, dragging his dark eyes away from her and flicking them up to the ceiling. Drawing in as deep a breath as he dared, he moved his left arm up over his eyes and rested in the crook of his elbow. “The vacation that is Kreios’s disgustingly small shack?”
With bright eyes and a friendly demeanour, Neena neither minded nor worried when Kreios left the room. This was his house, after all, he was free to go where and how he wanted. Although she took slight offence at having the invalid fobbed off on her. The man knew exactly how to make a painkiller - of that she was certain - and had just wandered off, clearly without any intention of making one and leaving her to handle the patient.
Then again, that wasn't the now identified 'Lukos''s fault. So, she kept her tone sweet and her stature unthreatening as she lounged beside the bed, having absolutely no issues with the fact that he was clearly grumpy and very naked.
It was as he spoke, however, questioning her need to offer him congratulations, that she stood up and stepped towards the bed, leaning over him. She had spotted the crimson on his fingers and was quick to find some fresh bandages from a small box on what appeared to be Kreios' work bench and returned to his side. She folded the white fabric deftly between her fingers until it became a long rectangle and then she held it down over the incision she had worked on, stemming any blood flow and putting pressure on the wound in a way that would encourage the body to reknit itself together.
As she worked, she quickly tugged the blankets that had been kicked to the bottom of the bed back into place so that the man was decent from the hips down. She then pressed both hands to the bandage once more, turning to look down at him, continuing the conversation as if she were doing nothing more than enjoying a glass of wine with the man...
She laughed when he called Kreios' home a shack, her voice full-bodied and her laugh sounding as if it came from her lower belly. Her smile was bright in her dark face and her eyes large as she nodded, her full lips offering a pout of consideration.
"Small is right." She agreed. "Though it has four walls and a roof, so I guess it's not as bad as it could be." She appeared to be talking to herself at this point rather than him, but her attention drew back quickly.
"And you most certainly deserve some kind of applause." She gave him a meaningful look. "You survive being stabbed, almost drowning, get picked up by a man knowledgeable in medicine, and didn't die whilst I was saving your life, despite you being my first patient." She offered a grin that was in no way apologetic that she had used him as an experimental test subject. He would have definitely died anyway so it was a 'nothing to lose' situation in her eyes.
She offered Lukos a shrug as she looked down at him, settling her hands stronger over the bandage that had started to stain through with blobs of scarlet.
"I'd say that makes you one of the luckiest people I've ever met... one of those hundreds of Gods you Greeks believe in must like you." She concluded with a friendly grin.
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With bright eyes and a friendly demeanour, Neena neither minded nor worried when Kreios left the room. This was his house, after all, he was free to go where and how he wanted. Although she took slight offence at having the invalid fobbed off on her. The man knew exactly how to make a painkiller - of that she was certain - and had just wandered off, clearly without any intention of making one and leaving her to handle the patient.
Then again, that wasn't the now identified 'Lukos''s fault. So, she kept her tone sweet and her stature unthreatening as she lounged beside the bed, having absolutely no issues with the fact that he was clearly grumpy and very naked.
It was as he spoke, however, questioning her need to offer him congratulations, that she stood up and stepped towards the bed, leaning over him. She had spotted the crimson on his fingers and was quick to find some fresh bandages from a small box on what appeared to be Kreios' work bench and returned to his side. She folded the white fabric deftly between her fingers until it became a long rectangle and then she held it down over the incision she had worked on, stemming any blood flow and putting pressure on the wound in a way that would encourage the body to reknit itself together.
As she worked, she quickly tugged the blankets that had been kicked to the bottom of the bed back into place so that the man was decent from the hips down. She then pressed both hands to the bandage once more, turning to look down at him, continuing the conversation as if she were doing nothing more than enjoying a glass of wine with the man...
She laughed when he called Kreios' home a shack, her voice full-bodied and her laugh sounding as if it came from her lower belly. Her smile was bright in her dark face and her eyes large as she nodded, her full lips offering a pout of consideration.
"Small is right." She agreed. "Though it has four walls and a roof, so I guess it's not as bad as it could be." She appeared to be talking to herself at this point rather than him, but her attention drew back quickly.
"And you most certainly deserve some kind of applause." She gave him a meaningful look. "You survive being stabbed, almost drowning, get picked up by a man knowledgeable in medicine, and didn't die whilst I was saving your life, despite you being my first patient." She offered a grin that was in no way apologetic that she had used him as an experimental test subject. He would have definitely died anyway so it was a 'nothing to lose' situation in her eyes.
She offered Lukos a shrug as she looked down at him, settling her hands stronger over the bandage that had started to stain through with blobs of scarlet.
"I'd say that makes you one of the luckiest people I've ever met... one of those hundreds of Gods you Greeks believe in must like you." She concluded with a friendly grin.
With bright eyes and a friendly demeanour, Neena neither minded nor worried when Kreios left the room. This was his house, after all, he was free to go where and how he wanted. Although she took slight offence at having the invalid fobbed off on her. The man knew exactly how to make a painkiller - of that she was certain - and had just wandered off, clearly without any intention of making one and leaving her to handle the patient.
Then again, that wasn't the now identified 'Lukos''s fault. So, she kept her tone sweet and her stature unthreatening as she lounged beside the bed, having absolutely no issues with the fact that he was clearly grumpy and very naked.
It was as he spoke, however, questioning her need to offer him congratulations, that she stood up and stepped towards the bed, leaning over him. She had spotted the crimson on his fingers and was quick to find some fresh bandages from a small box on what appeared to be Kreios' work bench and returned to his side. She folded the white fabric deftly between her fingers until it became a long rectangle and then she held it down over the incision she had worked on, stemming any blood flow and putting pressure on the wound in a way that would encourage the body to reknit itself together.
As she worked, she quickly tugged the blankets that had been kicked to the bottom of the bed back into place so that the man was decent from the hips down. She then pressed both hands to the bandage once more, turning to look down at him, continuing the conversation as if she were doing nothing more than enjoying a glass of wine with the man...
She laughed when he called Kreios' home a shack, her voice full-bodied and her laugh sounding as if it came from her lower belly. Her smile was bright in her dark face and her eyes large as she nodded, her full lips offering a pout of consideration.
"Small is right." She agreed. "Though it has four walls and a roof, so I guess it's not as bad as it could be." She appeared to be talking to herself at this point rather than him, but her attention drew back quickly.
"And you most certainly deserve some kind of applause." She gave him a meaningful look. "You survive being stabbed, almost drowning, get picked up by a man knowledgeable in medicine, and didn't die whilst I was saving your life, despite you being my first patient." She offered a grin that was in no way apologetic that she had used him as an experimental test subject. He would have definitely died anyway so it was a 'nothing to lose' situation in her eyes.
She offered Lukos a shrug as she looked down at him, settling her hands stronger over the bandage that had started to stain through with blobs of scarlet.
"I'd say that makes you one of the luckiest people I've ever met... one of those hundreds of Gods you Greeks believe in must like you." She concluded with a friendly grin.
He didn’t shrink away from her as she leaned over him. With his face still hidden, he let her press the linen square harder against his side. Throughout the process of binding the square to him with the use of more bandages, he gritted his teeth and concentrated on the darkness behind his eyelids. His breath seethed in and out between his teeth, sometimes in louder hisses than others, depending on how hard she was pressing. It was hard not to feel resentful of his body. It felt like it had betrayed him and he was taking it fairly personally.
Kreios’s jab rattled around in his brain. Pussy? He was trying to decide whether or not to stab Kreios, let him get half drowned, and then roughly dragged after being stabbed repeatedly with a needle while freely bleeding. To say something hurt when it did wasn’t being weak. It was being truthful. Perhaps, he reflected, Kreios was afraid of feeling anything at all, which was, to be frank, sad. If Kreios couldn’t face the reality of pain, then he was in a state of denial that Lukos found troubling.
He finally dropped his arm away and rested it on his stomach when she pulled up the blanket for him. Her kindness was a stark contrast to Kreios’s ill treatment and Lukos was finally in a state to notice it. He listened to her as she described the house as not too shabby. There they would have to disagree. He thought of the derelict temple on his island. While it might not be a palace, it was miles better than this hole.
"And you most certainly deserve some kind of applause," Neena said.
Lukos gave her a half cocky smirk. “Yeah? Go on. Praise me then.”
"You survive being stabbed, almost drowning, get picked up by a man knowledgeable in medicine, and didn't die whilst I was saving your life, despite you being my first patient."
“First patient?” he repeated, no longer flattered. “What do you mean by touching me when you didn’t know what you were doing?”
"I'd say that makes you one of the luckiest people I've ever met…” She went on smoothly. ”One of those hundreds of Gods you Greeks believe in must like you."
He stared at her and then he laughed but it was cut short because of the sudden, sharp reminder from his side that was was pretty badly injured. “Hard to deny them when you put it like that,” he agreed lightly. His gaze had drifted back to his side but he cut it toward her again. “I know what you believe. In your dead ancestors.” Settling more firmly into the bed, he glanced out the only window in the place. Morning would soon be fully upon them. “I am lucky,” he agreed. “More than most people can boast. Lucky I haven’t been killed before now.”
He wasn’t sure who’d stabbed him but he was going to find out and he would make that man pay. That it was a man was beyond doubt. A woman wouldn’t have been able to drag him that far or was strong enough to toss him into the harbor. “So what are you to Kreios?” He asked after a few seconds. “I didn’t think he had interest in...people.” He was going to make a joke about Kreios being interested in men but Lukos hadn’t seen Kreios show much emotion for anything except plants. Which was stupid.
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He didn’t shrink away from her as she leaned over him. With his face still hidden, he let her press the linen square harder against his side. Throughout the process of binding the square to him with the use of more bandages, he gritted his teeth and concentrated on the darkness behind his eyelids. His breath seethed in and out between his teeth, sometimes in louder hisses than others, depending on how hard she was pressing. It was hard not to feel resentful of his body. It felt like it had betrayed him and he was taking it fairly personally.
Kreios’s jab rattled around in his brain. Pussy? He was trying to decide whether or not to stab Kreios, let him get half drowned, and then roughly dragged after being stabbed repeatedly with a needle while freely bleeding. To say something hurt when it did wasn’t being weak. It was being truthful. Perhaps, he reflected, Kreios was afraid of feeling anything at all, which was, to be frank, sad. If Kreios couldn’t face the reality of pain, then he was in a state of denial that Lukos found troubling.
He finally dropped his arm away and rested it on his stomach when she pulled up the blanket for him. Her kindness was a stark contrast to Kreios’s ill treatment and Lukos was finally in a state to notice it. He listened to her as she described the house as not too shabby. There they would have to disagree. He thought of the derelict temple on his island. While it might not be a palace, it was miles better than this hole.
"And you most certainly deserve some kind of applause," Neena said.
Lukos gave her a half cocky smirk. “Yeah? Go on. Praise me then.”
"You survive being stabbed, almost drowning, get picked up by a man knowledgeable in medicine, and didn't die whilst I was saving your life, despite you being my first patient."
“First patient?” he repeated, no longer flattered. “What do you mean by touching me when you didn’t know what you were doing?”
"I'd say that makes you one of the luckiest people I've ever met…” She went on smoothly. ”One of those hundreds of Gods you Greeks believe in must like you."
He stared at her and then he laughed but it was cut short because of the sudden, sharp reminder from his side that was was pretty badly injured. “Hard to deny them when you put it like that,” he agreed lightly. His gaze had drifted back to his side but he cut it toward her again. “I know what you believe. In your dead ancestors.” Settling more firmly into the bed, he glanced out the only window in the place. Morning would soon be fully upon them. “I am lucky,” he agreed. “More than most people can boast. Lucky I haven’t been killed before now.”
He wasn’t sure who’d stabbed him but he was going to find out and he would make that man pay. That it was a man was beyond doubt. A woman wouldn’t have been able to drag him that far or was strong enough to toss him into the harbor. “So what are you to Kreios?” He asked after a few seconds. “I didn’t think he had interest in...people.” He was going to make a joke about Kreios being interested in men but Lukos hadn’t seen Kreios show much emotion for anything except plants. Which was stupid.
He didn’t shrink away from her as she leaned over him. With his face still hidden, he let her press the linen square harder against his side. Throughout the process of binding the square to him with the use of more bandages, he gritted his teeth and concentrated on the darkness behind his eyelids. His breath seethed in and out between his teeth, sometimes in louder hisses than others, depending on how hard she was pressing. It was hard not to feel resentful of his body. It felt like it had betrayed him and he was taking it fairly personally.
Kreios’s jab rattled around in his brain. Pussy? He was trying to decide whether or not to stab Kreios, let him get half drowned, and then roughly dragged after being stabbed repeatedly with a needle while freely bleeding. To say something hurt when it did wasn’t being weak. It was being truthful. Perhaps, he reflected, Kreios was afraid of feeling anything at all, which was, to be frank, sad. If Kreios couldn’t face the reality of pain, then he was in a state of denial that Lukos found troubling.
He finally dropped his arm away and rested it on his stomach when she pulled up the blanket for him. Her kindness was a stark contrast to Kreios’s ill treatment and Lukos was finally in a state to notice it. He listened to her as she described the house as not too shabby. There they would have to disagree. He thought of the derelict temple on his island. While it might not be a palace, it was miles better than this hole.
"And you most certainly deserve some kind of applause," Neena said.
Lukos gave her a half cocky smirk. “Yeah? Go on. Praise me then.”
"You survive being stabbed, almost drowning, get picked up by a man knowledgeable in medicine, and didn't die whilst I was saving your life, despite you being my first patient."
“First patient?” he repeated, no longer flattered. “What do you mean by touching me when you didn’t know what you were doing?”
"I'd say that makes you one of the luckiest people I've ever met…” She went on smoothly. ”One of those hundreds of Gods you Greeks believe in must like you."
He stared at her and then he laughed but it was cut short because of the sudden, sharp reminder from his side that was was pretty badly injured. “Hard to deny them when you put it like that,” he agreed lightly. His gaze had drifted back to his side but he cut it toward her again. “I know what you believe. In your dead ancestors.” Settling more firmly into the bed, he glanced out the only window in the place. Morning would soon be fully upon them. “I am lucky,” he agreed. “More than most people can boast. Lucky I haven’t been killed before now.”
He wasn’t sure who’d stabbed him but he was going to find out and he would make that man pay. That it was a man was beyond doubt. A woman wouldn’t have been able to drag him that far or was strong enough to toss him into the harbor. “So what are you to Kreios?” He asked after a few seconds. “I didn’t think he had interest in...people.” He was going to make a joke about Kreios being interested in men but Lukos hadn’t seen Kreios show much emotion for anything except plants. Which was stupid.
Having ignored his jab that she should praise him, Neena continued with what she was saying without breaking at his interruption. Instead, she ensured that his bandage was in place and then moved to inspect the little rows of plants that Kreios had available on his work bench. There were very few as most seemed to be grown in his garden and likely cut when needed rather than pre-prepared and left on the table. But, luckily, Kreios had clearly been working on something before she had arrived - possibly in order to ignore the man behind her whilst he had been bleeding out. Whatever it was that he had been putting together it contained three ingredients that, removed from the others, made for fairly decent pain relief.
Selecting them quickly from the little piles of leaves whilst Lukos responded to her accusations of grandeur and luck, Neena was quick to find a pestle and mortar and began working to grind the three pieces of flora together into what would eventually resemble green ash.
Turning back towards the pirate and bracing her bottom on the work table, she crossed one ankle over the other and ground into the mortar with a steady grating noise.
"First patient for internal sewing." She added for further clarification. "I've had a lot of experience as a healer but only assisted doing something like that before." She shrugged. "You were going to die if I did nothing, I figured a small chance of survival was better than none." Once again, she displayed absolutely zero apology or contrition in her tone. "And I don't follow the Bedoan faith." She stated simply without further explanation of what she may or may not believe in. She just dropped the pestle for a moment in order to wag a finger at him. "You shouldn't make assumptions."
It was then that the man asked about Kreios. Neena sniggered at his comment.
"Grumps?" She said, using her nickname for him. She shook her head to dispel the statement of his dislike of humans. "Oh, not at all." She told him with a slight frown of concern that he would think that of the poison-peddler. "You only have to scratch him a little to see under the surface." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "And I mean that literally. The man is an animal." She sighed dramatically. "But, now he’s just a little bit addicted to the Nee-Nee love and I'm just not cruel enough to cut him off yet." She shrugged as if to say - 'what can you do?'.
The delivered the entire speech with a perfectly straight face.
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Having ignored his jab that she should praise him, Neena continued with what she was saying without breaking at his interruption. Instead, she ensured that his bandage was in place and then moved to inspect the little rows of plants that Kreios had available on his work bench. There were very few as most seemed to be grown in his garden and likely cut when needed rather than pre-prepared and left on the table. But, luckily, Kreios had clearly been working on something before she had arrived - possibly in order to ignore the man behind her whilst he had been bleeding out. Whatever it was that he had been putting together it contained three ingredients that, removed from the others, made for fairly decent pain relief.
Selecting them quickly from the little piles of leaves whilst Lukos responded to her accusations of grandeur and luck, Neena was quick to find a pestle and mortar and began working to grind the three pieces of flora together into what would eventually resemble green ash.
Turning back towards the pirate and bracing her bottom on the work table, she crossed one ankle over the other and ground into the mortar with a steady grating noise.
"First patient for internal sewing." She added for further clarification. "I've had a lot of experience as a healer but only assisted doing something like that before." She shrugged. "You were going to die if I did nothing, I figured a small chance of survival was better than none." Once again, she displayed absolutely zero apology or contrition in her tone. "And I don't follow the Bedoan faith." She stated simply without further explanation of what she may or may not believe in. She just dropped the pestle for a moment in order to wag a finger at him. "You shouldn't make assumptions."
It was then that the man asked about Kreios. Neena sniggered at his comment.
"Grumps?" She said, using her nickname for him. She shook her head to dispel the statement of his dislike of humans. "Oh, not at all." She told him with a slight frown of concern that he would think that of the poison-peddler. "You only have to scratch him a little to see under the surface." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "And I mean that literally. The man is an animal." She sighed dramatically. "But, now he’s just a little bit addicted to the Nee-Nee love and I'm just not cruel enough to cut him off yet." She shrugged as if to say - 'what can you do?'.
The delivered the entire speech with a perfectly straight face.
Having ignored his jab that she should praise him, Neena continued with what she was saying without breaking at his interruption. Instead, she ensured that his bandage was in place and then moved to inspect the little rows of plants that Kreios had available on his work bench. There were very few as most seemed to be grown in his garden and likely cut when needed rather than pre-prepared and left on the table. But, luckily, Kreios had clearly been working on something before she had arrived - possibly in order to ignore the man behind her whilst he had been bleeding out. Whatever it was that he had been putting together it contained three ingredients that, removed from the others, made for fairly decent pain relief.
Selecting them quickly from the little piles of leaves whilst Lukos responded to her accusations of grandeur and luck, Neena was quick to find a pestle and mortar and began working to grind the three pieces of flora together into what would eventually resemble green ash.
Turning back towards the pirate and bracing her bottom on the work table, she crossed one ankle over the other and ground into the mortar with a steady grating noise.
"First patient for internal sewing." She added for further clarification. "I've had a lot of experience as a healer but only assisted doing something like that before." She shrugged. "You were going to die if I did nothing, I figured a small chance of survival was better than none." Once again, she displayed absolutely zero apology or contrition in her tone. "And I don't follow the Bedoan faith." She stated simply without further explanation of what she may or may not believe in. She just dropped the pestle for a moment in order to wag a finger at him. "You shouldn't make assumptions."
It was then that the man asked about Kreios. Neena sniggered at his comment.
"Grumps?" She said, using her nickname for him. She shook her head to dispel the statement of his dislike of humans. "Oh, not at all." She told him with a slight frown of concern that he would think that of the poison-peddler. "You only have to scratch him a little to see under the surface." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "And I mean that literally. The man is an animal." She sighed dramatically. "But, now he’s just a little bit addicted to the Nee-Nee love and I'm just not cruel enough to cut him off yet." She shrugged as if to say - 'what can you do?'.
The delivered the entire speech with a perfectly straight face.
"You don't follow the Bedoan faith, huh?" He was intrigued by that. Bedoans were so insular and he didn't know many at all. The ones he had met were reserved and closed off, and had insisted that no gods existed but someone's ancestors. He hadn't argued much with that because there was little point in arguing with someone in a cage. They were wrong, obviously. Gods existed. They didn't care about the people who served them, but they existed.
The conversation shifted to Kreios and he smirked at her nickname for the other man. Ut was cutesy but it fit. "You scratch him," he said. "I'd rather not touch him if I don't have to." After a pause, he added, "I'd touch him to hit him. Maybe wring his neck." He made shadow gestures of choking Kreios out and smiled as he sagged back on the pillow.
When she leaned in and whispered Kreios was an animal, Lukos snorted, unimpressed. "Yeah. A cat. I'm pretty sure he'd sit up in the middle of the most delicious sex and statt obsessively washing. Or fall asleep." Pillowing his good arm behind his head, he eyed her. "If he's what you like, go for it." His gaze drifted from her and up to the ceiling. Obviously she had piss poor taste in men if Kreios was what she considered to be an animal.
Circling the conversation off the disgusting topic of Kreios's grunting and back to her faith, he said, "So how do you come to be so enlightened?" Or, half enlightened. Fucking with Kreios was a mark against her but he'd let that slide. Because he was generous above all things.
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"You don't follow the Bedoan faith, huh?" He was intrigued by that. Bedoans were so insular and he didn't know many at all. The ones he had met were reserved and closed off, and had insisted that no gods existed but someone's ancestors. He hadn't argued much with that because there was little point in arguing with someone in a cage. They were wrong, obviously. Gods existed. They didn't care about the people who served them, but they existed.
The conversation shifted to Kreios and he smirked at her nickname for the other man. Ut was cutesy but it fit. "You scratch him," he said. "I'd rather not touch him if I don't have to." After a pause, he added, "I'd touch him to hit him. Maybe wring his neck." He made shadow gestures of choking Kreios out and smiled as he sagged back on the pillow.
When she leaned in and whispered Kreios was an animal, Lukos snorted, unimpressed. "Yeah. A cat. I'm pretty sure he'd sit up in the middle of the most delicious sex and statt obsessively washing. Or fall asleep." Pillowing his good arm behind his head, he eyed her. "If he's what you like, go for it." His gaze drifted from her and up to the ceiling. Obviously she had piss poor taste in men if Kreios was what she considered to be an animal.
Circling the conversation off the disgusting topic of Kreios's grunting and back to her faith, he said, "So how do you come to be so enlightened?" Or, half enlightened. Fucking with Kreios was a mark against her but he'd let that slide. Because he was generous above all things.
"You don't follow the Bedoan faith, huh?" He was intrigued by that. Bedoans were so insular and he didn't know many at all. The ones he had met were reserved and closed off, and had insisted that no gods existed but someone's ancestors. He hadn't argued much with that because there was little point in arguing with someone in a cage. They were wrong, obviously. Gods existed. They didn't care about the people who served them, but they existed.
The conversation shifted to Kreios and he smirked at her nickname for the other man. Ut was cutesy but it fit. "You scratch him," he said. "I'd rather not touch him if I don't have to." After a pause, he added, "I'd touch him to hit him. Maybe wring his neck." He made shadow gestures of choking Kreios out and smiled as he sagged back on the pillow.
When she leaned in and whispered Kreios was an animal, Lukos snorted, unimpressed. "Yeah. A cat. I'm pretty sure he'd sit up in the middle of the most delicious sex and statt obsessively washing. Or fall asleep." Pillowing his good arm behind his head, he eyed her. "If he's what you like, go for it." His gaze drifted from her and up to the ceiling. Obviously she had piss poor taste in men if Kreios was what she considered to be an animal.
Circling the conversation off the disgusting topic of Kreios's grunting and back to her faith, he said, "So how do you come to be so enlightened?" Or, half enlightened. Fucking with Kreios was a mark against her but he'd let that slide. Because he was generous above all things.
When Lukos appeared surprised that she, with her skin tone and appearance so clearly of the tribes of the Sahara, did not follow the same ancestral faith as those she most closely resembled, she made a face as if to say - 'told you, you shouldn't assume...'
"I don't follow any faith." She confirmed with a shrug of her shoulders as if it made no difference to her and it was no big deal to claim athieism before all mortal and divine beings. She clearly feared no form of chastisement from either but was happy to dole it out herself when Lukos mentioned wringing the neck of the poison peddler. She raised an arm and flicked an extended finger left and right at him, as if admonishing a small child.
"Now, now... socially inept he may be but he could have left you in the sea." She raised an eyebrow at him, the corners of her lips pulling back into her rounded cheeks. "And you sir, are a very bad patient. You should at least give him the credit for saving your life... Something that I assume your fairly fond of."
As the conversation moved on to the man's guessing at Kreios' sexual behaviours, Neena was laughing outright. She liked this guy. He was funny. The visual image he had conjured in her mind like a magician was that of Kreios with a curled hand licking his fist and rubbing it over his onyx black hair. The whole thing was very bizarre, it set her giggling. She neither bothered to limit the jovial noises, nor act even moderately ashamed at laughing at a humiliating image of someone else. The comments were made in - what she assumed to be - a good-natured manner and offered no harm to Kreios; so why not laugh? And in Neena's opinion, when you laugh, you did it right. Openly and without regret.
Not knowing that by 'enlightened' Lukos was referring once again to her faith, and assuming her meant just in general (she had saved his life after all and was clearly witty and charming) Neena grinned and folded her legs up into a cross as she perched on the stool. Her elbows propped themselves on her extended knees and she flattened her hands to support her chin.
"Oh nothing so special." She told the man. "I'm just naturally brilliant."
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When Lukos appeared surprised that she, with her skin tone and appearance so clearly of the tribes of the Sahara, did not follow the same ancestral faith as those she most closely resembled, she made a face as if to say - 'told you, you shouldn't assume...'
"I don't follow any faith." She confirmed with a shrug of her shoulders as if it made no difference to her and it was no big deal to claim athieism before all mortal and divine beings. She clearly feared no form of chastisement from either but was happy to dole it out herself when Lukos mentioned wringing the neck of the poison peddler. She raised an arm and flicked an extended finger left and right at him, as if admonishing a small child.
"Now, now... socially inept he may be but he could have left you in the sea." She raised an eyebrow at him, the corners of her lips pulling back into her rounded cheeks. "And you sir, are a very bad patient. You should at least give him the credit for saving your life... Something that I assume your fairly fond of."
As the conversation moved on to the man's guessing at Kreios' sexual behaviours, Neena was laughing outright. She liked this guy. He was funny. The visual image he had conjured in her mind like a magician was that of Kreios with a curled hand licking his fist and rubbing it over his onyx black hair. The whole thing was very bizarre, it set her giggling. She neither bothered to limit the jovial noises, nor act even moderately ashamed at laughing at a humiliating image of someone else. The comments were made in - what she assumed to be - a good-natured manner and offered no harm to Kreios; so why not laugh? And in Neena's opinion, when you laugh, you did it right. Openly and without regret.
Not knowing that by 'enlightened' Lukos was referring once again to her faith, and assuming her meant just in general (she had saved his life after all and was clearly witty and charming) Neena grinned and folded her legs up into a cross as she perched on the stool. Her elbows propped themselves on her extended knees and she flattened her hands to support her chin.
"Oh nothing so special." She told the man. "I'm just naturally brilliant."
When Lukos appeared surprised that she, with her skin tone and appearance so clearly of the tribes of the Sahara, did not follow the same ancestral faith as those she most closely resembled, she made a face as if to say - 'told you, you shouldn't assume...'
"I don't follow any faith." She confirmed with a shrug of her shoulders as if it made no difference to her and it was no big deal to claim athieism before all mortal and divine beings. She clearly feared no form of chastisement from either but was happy to dole it out herself when Lukos mentioned wringing the neck of the poison peddler. She raised an arm and flicked an extended finger left and right at him, as if admonishing a small child.
"Now, now... socially inept he may be but he could have left you in the sea." She raised an eyebrow at him, the corners of her lips pulling back into her rounded cheeks. "And you sir, are a very bad patient. You should at least give him the credit for saving your life... Something that I assume your fairly fond of."
As the conversation moved on to the man's guessing at Kreios' sexual behaviours, Neena was laughing outright. She liked this guy. He was funny. The visual image he had conjured in her mind like a magician was that of Kreios with a curled hand licking his fist and rubbing it over his onyx black hair. The whole thing was very bizarre, it set her giggling. She neither bothered to limit the jovial noises, nor act even moderately ashamed at laughing at a humiliating image of someone else. The comments were made in - what she assumed to be - a good-natured manner and offered no harm to Kreios; so why not laugh? And in Neena's opinion, when you laugh, you did it right. Openly and without regret.
Not knowing that by 'enlightened' Lukos was referring once again to her faith, and assuming her meant just in general (she had saved his life after all and was clearly witty and charming) Neena grinned and folded her legs up into a cross as she perched on the stool. Her elbows propped themselves on her extended knees and she flattened her hands to support her chin.
"Oh nothing so special." She told the man. "I'm just naturally brilliant."
He was not looking forward to the stuff, unpleasant character that was Lukos the slave taking up space in his living quarters. Kreios had intended for this return to ensure his mandragora and new plants from Africa would be well taken care of, and wanted to spend as much time as he could tending to them. Yet this little upstart seeemed to be a lynch in his plans, and now Kreios found himself making plans to head out to the slave market in Vasiliadon the next day. Someone would need to either tend to the plants or tend to the invalid in his house as of now, and Kreios did not want to risk his precious new plants dying.
Rinsing his hand off in the pail of fresh water he had next to his little garden of poisonous plants and blooms, the man returned to his house as he dried his hands on his chiton, just in time to hear Neena praise herself, and the man rolled his eyes.
His nose was quick to catch a whiff of what she had been grating - smart of her, to pick the exact dosages he'd use to kill pain. He was no stranger to it, even if Kreios dabbled more in the tinctures that would take life away. But one couldn't study plants, their properties, usages and meanings to not come away with enough knowledge to kill and heal alike. And as much as it went against his nature, Kreios grabbed a pot containing pure honey in it, and headed over to where Neena sat.
"Don't get a big head just cause you got lucky." he muttered at Neena, using his finger to nudge at her forehead with a disgruntled look. Taking over the pestle and mortar, he removed the grinder, and picked up a wooden spoon. Dipping the utensil in the pot, he allowed the green ash to mix with the golden viscous liquid, mixing it up before handing it to Neena, with a head tilt to Lukos. "Maybe some of this honey would shut him up so I wouldn't have to listen to him all night." His eyes flashed at the pirate, as if daring him to say a word.
Allowing Neena to putter along to Lukos, Kreios on the other hand, headed over to pulled out some sheets, pushing the table Neena had been working on earlier to a side, before spreading it on the ground, a space enough for two to sleep on. While he would very much like to sleep on his bed, the situation was obvious enough that that wasn't an option, and by this time of the night (or really, it was day by now depending on how one looked at matters, but Kreios just really needed sleep at this point), he couldn't be bothered walking Neena back, but neither did he think she should be walking back alone to his ship... so choices were taken away from him.
As such, Kreios flopped over on his back on one side of the thin sheet on the ground, after he had shrugged off the top half of his chiton to use as a pillow. Propriety would usually dictate he didn't be around half-naked, but Lukos was practically naked... and Kreios was too tired to care at this point. So the man lay an arm over his eyes, his voice tired as he muttered. "Go to bed. It's late. And don't let me hear another word out of you, pirate. Or you'll sleep with my plants tonight."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He was not looking forward to the stuff, unpleasant character that was Lukos the slave taking up space in his living quarters. Kreios had intended for this return to ensure his mandragora and new plants from Africa would be well taken care of, and wanted to spend as much time as he could tending to them. Yet this little upstart seeemed to be a lynch in his plans, and now Kreios found himself making plans to head out to the slave market in Vasiliadon the next day. Someone would need to either tend to the plants or tend to the invalid in his house as of now, and Kreios did not want to risk his precious new plants dying.
Rinsing his hand off in the pail of fresh water he had next to his little garden of poisonous plants and blooms, the man returned to his house as he dried his hands on his chiton, just in time to hear Neena praise herself, and the man rolled his eyes.
His nose was quick to catch a whiff of what she had been grating - smart of her, to pick the exact dosages he'd use to kill pain. He was no stranger to it, even if Kreios dabbled more in the tinctures that would take life away. But one couldn't study plants, their properties, usages and meanings to not come away with enough knowledge to kill and heal alike. And as much as it went against his nature, Kreios grabbed a pot containing pure honey in it, and headed over to where Neena sat.
"Don't get a big head just cause you got lucky." he muttered at Neena, using his finger to nudge at her forehead with a disgruntled look. Taking over the pestle and mortar, he removed the grinder, and picked up a wooden spoon. Dipping the utensil in the pot, he allowed the green ash to mix with the golden viscous liquid, mixing it up before handing it to Neena, with a head tilt to Lukos. "Maybe some of this honey would shut him up so I wouldn't have to listen to him all night." His eyes flashed at the pirate, as if daring him to say a word.
Allowing Neena to putter along to Lukos, Kreios on the other hand, headed over to pulled out some sheets, pushing the table Neena had been working on earlier to a side, before spreading it on the ground, a space enough for two to sleep on. While he would very much like to sleep on his bed, the situation was obvious enough that that wasn't an option, and by this time of the night (or really, it was day by now depending on how one looked at matters, but Kreios just really needed sleep at this point), he couldn't be bothered walking Neena back, but neither did he think she should be walking back alone to his ship... so choices were taken away from him.
As such, Kreios flopped over on his back on one side of the thin sheet on the ground, after he had shrugged off the top half of his chiton to use as a pillow. Propriety would usually dictate he didn't be around half-naked, but Lukos was practically naked... and Kreios was too tired to care at this point. So the man lay an arm over his eyes, his voice tired as he muttered. "Go to bed. It's late. And don't let me hear another word out of you, pirate. Or you'll sleep with my plants tonight."
He was not looking forward to the stuff, unpleasant character that was Lukos the slave taking up space in his living quarters. Kreios had intended for this return to ensure his mandragora and new plants from Africa would be well taken care of, and wanted to spend as much time as he could tending to them. Yet this little upstart seeemed to be a lynch in his plans, and now Kreios found himself making plans to head out to the slave market in Vasiliadon the next day. Someone would need to either tend to the plants or tend to the invalid in his house as of now, and Kreios did not want to risk his precious new plants dying.
Rinsing his hand off in the pail of fresh water he had next to his little garden of poisonous plants and blooms, the man returned to his house as he dried his hands on his chiton, just in time to hear Neena praise herself, and the man rolled his eyes.
His nose was quick to catch a whiff of what she had been grating - smart of her, to pick the exact dosages he'd use to kill pain. He was no stranger to it, even if Kreios dabbled more in the tinctures that would take life away. But one couldn't study plants, their properties, usages and meanings to not come away with enough knowledge to kill and heal alike. And as much as it went against his nature, Kreios grabbed a pot containing pure honey in it, and headed over to where Neena sat.
"Don't get a big head just cause you got lucky." he muttered at Neena, using his finger to nudge at her forehead with a disgruntled look. Taking over the pestle and mortar, he removed the grinder, and picked up a wooden spoon. Dipping the utensil in the pot, he allowed the green ash to mix with the golden viscous liquid, mixing it up before handing it to Neena, with a head tilt to Lukos. "Maybe some of this honey would shut him up so I wouldn't have to listen to him all night." His eyes flashed at the pirate, as if daring him to say a word.
Allowing Neena to putter along to Lukos, Kreios on the other hand, headed over to pulled out some sheets, pushing the table Neena had been working on earlier to a side, before spreading it on the ground, a space enough for two to sleep on. While he would very much like to sleep on his bed, the situation was obvious enough that that wasn't an option, and by this time of the night (or really, it was day by now depending on how one looked at matters, but Kreios just really needed sleep at this point), he couldn't be bothered walking Neena back, but neither did he think she should be walking back alone to his ship... so choices were taken away from him.
As such, Kreios flopped over on his back on one side of the thin sheet on the ground, after he had shrugged off the top half of his chiton to use as a pillow. Propriety would usually dictate he didn't be around half-naked, but Lukos was practically naked... and Kreios was too tired to care at this point. So the man lay an arm over his eyes, his voice tired as he muttered. "Go to bed. It's late. And don't let me hear another word out of you, pirate. Or you'll sleep with my plants tonight."