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"I don't follow any faith." She told him firmly, which he thought was a bit bold of her. No faith? None? Some people professed to do that, but he personally thought that was playing fast and loose with how things worked. Still, he didn’t truly care about her dealings with the divine. He didn’t know this girl at all.
Her admonishments about his slanders on Kreios, though, were a bit irksome, in that she was right. "Now, now... socially inept he may be but he could have left you in the sea." The arched eyebrow earned one from him in return. "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."
“Why’d he bother if he’s just going to try and re-open the wound?” Lukos demanded. “He has his reasons and I doubt they’re anything I want to comply with.” His eyes slid away from her and out of the room’s only window. “I don’t have to be grateful to him if he’s going to be an ass for no reason.” What Kreios’s reasons were, he was not keen on finding out. He also didn’t like being at anyone’s mercy, which he most definitely was if he was stuck in this tiny room, in this bed, with Kreios, of all people. This Neena girl...he’d see. She was definitely the most determinedly cheerful person he’d met in some time and he wasn’t sure if he found that refreshing or irritating. He was shocked that Kreios hadn’t gagged her, and not in the fun way.
It was right after Neena had boasted about being brilliant that the primary subject of their conversation darkened the room with his special brand of friendlessness. “You really know how to sap joy from a place, don’t you?” Lukos made a face at him, pillowing his head on his arm again, watching Kreios giving Neena orders and not even acknowledging him verbally. Kreios only shot him a glare that just begged to be answered and Lukos found himself incapable of not jibing the poison merchant.
“Shut me up?” Lukos called from the bed. “You kiss your mother with that attitude?”
Kreios was on the floor at this point, giving some kind of threat about sleeping in a garden. That actually sounded kind of pleasant. Underneath the stars, moon overhead, soft breezes whispering through the leaves. Grass beneath him, open sky stretching away as far as the eye could see. God. Kreios was the worst at coming up with tortures.
“I’ll bet you were abandoned as an infant because you looked like a withered grape,” he muttered, more for Neena’s benefit than Kreios actually hearing the insult. Settling down in the bed, he grinned to himself, imagining that Kreios probably looked like a withered grape everywhere. And he found that hilarious. The blood loss and trauma were making him a little more loopy than he tended to be and he ended up not causing much more trouble before falling asleep.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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"I don't follow any faith." She told him firmly, which he thought was a bit bold of her. No faith? None? Some people professed to do that, but he personally thought that was playing fast and loose with how things worked. Still, he didn’t truly care about her dealings with the divine. He didn’t know this girl at all.
Her admonishments about his slanders on Kreios, though, were a bit irksome, in that she was right. "Now, now... socially inept he may be but he could have left you in the sea." The arched eyebrow earned one from him in return. "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."
“Why’d he bother if he’s just going to try and re-open the wound?” Lukos demanded. “He has his reasons and I doubt they’re anything I want to comply with.” His eyes slid away from her and out of the room’s only window. “I don’t have to be grateful to him if he’s going to be an ass for no reason.” What Kreios’s reasons were, he was not keen on finding out. He also didn’t like being at anyone’s mercy, which he most definitely was if he was stuck in this tiny room, in this bed, with Kreios, of all people. This Neena girl...he’d see. She was definitely the most determinedly cheerful person he’d met in some time and he wasn’t sure if he found that refreshing or irritating. He was shocked that Kreios hadn’t gagged her, and not in the fun way.
It was right after Neena had boasted about being brilliant that the primary subject of their conversation darkened the room with his special brand of friendlessness. “You really know how to sap joy from a place, don’t you?” Lukos made a face at him, pillowing his head on his arm again, watching Kreios giving Neena orders and not even acknowledging him verbally. Kreios only shot him a glare that just begged to be answered and Lukos found himself incapable of not jibing the poison merchant.
“Shut me up?” Lukos called from the bed. “You kiss your mother with that attitude?”
Kreios was on the floor at this point, giving some kind of threat about sleeping in a garden. That actually sounded kind of pleasant. Underneath the stars, moon overhead, soft breezes whispering through the leaves. Grass beneath him, open sky stretching away as far as the eye could see. God. Kreios was the worst at coming up with tortures.
“I’ll bet you were abandoned as an infant because you looked like a withered grape,” he muttered, more for Neena’s benefit than Kreios actually hearing the insult. Settling down in the bed, he grinned to himself, imagining that Kreios probably looked like a withered grape everywhere. And he found that hilarious. The blood loss and trauma were making him a little more loopy than he tended to be and he ended up not causing much more trouble before falling asleep.
"I don't follow any faith." She told him firmly, which he thought was a bit bold of her. No faith? None? Some people professed to do that, but he personally thought that was playing fast and loose with how things worked. Still, he didn’t truly care about her dealings with the divine. He didn’t know this girl at all.
Her admonishments about his slanders on Kreios, though, were a bit irksome, in that she was right. "Now, now... socially inept he may be but he could have left you in the sea." The arched eyebrow earned one from him in return. "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."
“Why’d he bother if he’s just going to try and re-open the wound?” Lukos demanded. “He has his reasons and I doubt they’re anything I want to comply with.” His eyes slid away from her and out of the room’s only window. “I don’t have to be grateful to him if he’s going to be an ass for no reason.” What Kreios’s reasons were, he was not keen on finding out. He also didn’t like being at anyone’s mercy, which he most definitely was if he was stuck in this tiny room, in this bed, with Kreios, of all people. This Neena girl...he’d see. She was definitely the most determinedly cheerful person he’d met in some time and he wasn’t sure if he found that refreshing or irritating. He was shocked that Kreios hadn’t gagged her, and not in the fun way.
It was right after Neena had boasted about being brilliant that the primary subject of their conversation darkened the room with his special brand of friendlessness. “You really know how to sap joy from a place, don’t you?” Lukos made a face at him, pillowing his head on his arm again, watching Kreios giving Neena orders and not even acknowledging him verbally. Kreios only shot him a glare that just begged to be answered and Lukos found himself incapable of not jibing the poison merchant.
“Shut me up?” Lukos called from the bed. “You kiss your mother with that attitude?”
Kreios was on the floor at this point, giving some kind of threat about sleeping in a garden. That actually sounded kind of pleasant. Underneath the stars, moon overhead, soft breezes whispering through the leaves. Grass beneath him, open sky stretching away as far as the eye could see. God. Kreios was the worst at coming up with tortures.
“I’ll bet you were abandoned as an infant because you looked like a withered grape,” he muttered, more for Neena’s benefit than Kreios actually hearing the insult. Settling down in the bed, he grinned to himself, imagining that Kreios probably looked like a withered grape everywhere. And he found that hilarious. The blood loss and trauma were making him a little more loopy than he tended to be and he ended up not causing much more trouble before falling asleep.
Not one for pride or obtuse stubbornness, Neena allowed Kreios to continue with the painkiller, as he took the pestle and mortar from her hand, finished the work and then set the mortar aside when Lukos decided to give a little too much lip. The two bantered back and forth and in a decision of finality, Kreios pulled out blankets and drew them over the ground in order to create a makeshift bed. Neena watched the efforts with curiosity.
The man appeared to hold all the compassion of a rock and all the interest of slate but when it came down to it Kreios was a kind person. Of that, Neena was fairly certain. He had not left the pirate to drown in the sea, and had even treated him in his own home rather than simply dump him with the nearest healer available. Now, despite the fact that Lukos could in fact be moved (as their journey outside and back proved) Kreios did not intend to strip him of the bed and instead set up shop for the night upon the cold floor himself.
And yet Lukos continued to be ungrateful, which appeared to be his default setting as far as Neena could tell.
Rolling her eyes as the insults were flicked back and forth - the two of them hollered at each other like little girls - she allowed Kreios the privacy of finding his own peace on the floor and then set about her own preparations, as the patient slipped into sleep also. Neither of which she could blame them. If Kreios had been awake all night tending to the man and Lukos' body needed the rest... it was understandable that they were both cranky and exhausted.
Rolling her eyes again at the sheer childishness of it all, Neena set about a few last-minute tasks before she in turn decided to sleep.
The herbs to ease Lukos' pain she set into a cup of water that had been set boiling on the hearth and then mulched it until it was drinkable. She set it to one side of the bed so that, if the man woke in and found himself in too much pain, he could relieve it. Though, in truth, the more sleep he could manage the better. The body tended to be a far greater healer than any herbal medicine.
At the thought, Neena had an idea and went outside to search Kreios' garden, before returning ten minutes later with her sought after forages. Taking a small pot on from the work bench, Neena quietly set in place a few stalks, leaves and little bundles of a particular kind of moss. She had no idea what all of their names were but she knew that they could each be used as a sedate, toxin or poison. What she was interested in, however, was the smell. Salty, waxy and damp. All the smells of the inside of a ship.
The body slept best - and therefore healed best - when it was surroundings it knew well and felt comfortable in. If Lukos was a pirate...
Neena set the little pot beside the cup of pain tonic, as close to Lukos' face as it could get without being in the way. She then lifted the blankets from his sleeping form to check the bandage which was still purest white and had yet to seep through and then returned the man his warmth before moving to take up a spot on the blanket that Kreios had laid out upon the floor.
As it was only late summer, the room, air and in fact whole kingdom was fairly warm. She needed no covering and she was used to far rougher sleeping accommodations. Not undressing, for she had only the one gossamer tunic, Neena simply removed her thong sandals, pushed her hair from her eyes and curled up to sleep, facing Kreios but with enough distance that he wouldn't be encroached upon.
Unconscious to her slumberous actions, Neena slept as she always did and by morning she was curled into a tight little ball, as if defensive of all the many threats she had woken up to over her time as a slave. Her knees were drawn all the way to her chest, her arms hidden within. Her little, light tunic had ridden up to around her waist and, as she never wore undergarments, her modesty was only kept by her heels drawn up to nestle directly beneath her bottom. Her spine curved around into so tight a bundle it might have appeared uncomfortable but her face was one of peaceful slumber, her eyelashes fluttering occasionally as she dreamed and a light smile upon her face...
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Not one for pride or obtuse stubbornness, Neena allowed Kreios to continue with the painkiller, as he took the pestle and mortar from her hand, finished the work and then set the mortar aside when Lukos decided to give a little too much lip. The two bantered back and forth and in a decision of finality, Kreios pulled out blankets and drew them over the ground in order to create a makeshift bed. Neena watched the efforts with curiosity.
The man appeared to hold all the compassion of a rock and all the interest of slate but when it came down to it Kreios was a kind person. Of that, Neena was fairly certain. He had not left the pirate to drown in the sea, and had even treated him in his own home rather than simply dump him with the nearest healer available. Now, despite the fact that Lukos could in fact be moved (as their journey outside and back proved) Kreios did not intend to strip him of the bed and instead set up shop for the night upon the cold floor himself.
And yet Lukos continued to be ungrateful, which appeared to be his default setting as far as Neena could tell.
Rolling her eyes as the insults were flicked back and forth - the two of them hollered at each other like little girls - she allowed Kreios the privacy of finding his own peace on the floor and then set about her own preparations, as the patient slipped into sleep also. Neither of which she could blame them. If Kreios had been awake all night tending to the man and Lukos' body needed the rest... it was understandable that they were both cranky and exhausted.
Rolling her eyes again at the sheer childishness of it all, Neena set about a few last-minute tasks before she in turn decided to sleep.
The herbs to ease Lukos' pain she set into a cup of water that had been set boiling on the hearth and then mulched it until it was drinkable. She set it to one side of the bed so that, if the man woke in and found himself in too much pain, he could relieve it. Though, in truth, the more sleep he could manage the better. The body tended to be a far greater healer than any herbal medicine.
At the thought, Neena had an idea and went outside to search Kreios' garden, before returning ten minutes later with her sought after forages. Taking a small pot on from the work bench, Neena quietly set in place a few stalks, leaves and little bundles of a particular kind of moss. She had no idea what all of their names were but she knew that they could each be used as a sedate, toxin or poison. What she was interested in, however, was the smell. Salty, waxy and damp. All the smells of the inside of a ship.
The body slept best - and therefore healed best - when it was surroundings it knew well and felt comfortable in. If Lukos was a pirate...
Neena set the little pot beside the cup of pain tonic, as close to Lukos' face as it could get without being in the way. She then lifted the blankets from his sleeping form to check the bandage which was still purest white and had yet to seep through and then returned the man his warmth before moving to take up a spot on the blanket that Kreios had laid out upon the floor.
As it was only late summer, the room, air and in fact whole kingdom was fairly warm. She needed no covering and she was used to far rougher sleeping accommodations. Not undressing, for she had only the one gossamer tunic, Neena simply removed her thong sandals, pushed her hair from her eyes and curled up to sleep, facing Kreios but with enough distance that he wouldn't be encroached upon.
Unconscious to her slumberous actions, Neena slept as she always did and by morning she was curled into a tight little ball, as if defensive of all the many threats she had woken up to over her time as a slave. Her knees were drawn all the way to her chest, her arms hidden within. Her little, light tunic had ridden up to around her waist and, as she never wore undergarments, her modesty was only kept by her heels drawn up to nestle directly beneath her bottom. Her spine curved around into so tight a bundle it might have appeared uncomfortable but her face was one of peaceful slumber, her eyelashes fluttering occasionally as she dreamed and a light smile upon her face...
Not one for pride or obtuse stubbornness, Neena allowed Kreios to continue with the painkiller, as he took the pestle and mortar from her hand, finished the work and then set the mortar aside when Lukos decided to give a little too much lip. The two bantered back and forth and in a decision of finality, Kreios pulled out blankets and drew them over the ground in order to create a makeshift bed. Neena watched the efforts with curiosity.
The man appeared to hold all the compassion of a rock and all the interest of slate but when it came down to it Kreios was a kind person. Of that, Neena was fairly certain. He had not left the pirate to drown in the sea, and had even treated him in his own home rather than simply dump him with the nearest healer available. Now, despite the fact that Lukos could in fact be moved (as their journey outside and back proved) Kreios did not intend to strip him of the bed and instead set up shop for the night upon the cold floor himself.
And yet Lukos continued to be ungrateful, which appeared to be his default setting as far as Neena could tell.
Rolling her eyes as the insults were flicked back and forth - the two of them hollered at each other like little girls - she allowed Kreios the privacy of finding his own peace on the floor and then set about her own preparations, as the patient slipped into sleep also. Neither of which she could blame them. If Kreios had been awake all night tending to the man and Lukos' body needed the rest... it was understandable that they were both cranky and exhausted.
Rolling her eyes again at the sheer childishness of it all, Neena set about a few last-minute tasks before she in turn decided to sleep.
The herbs to ease Lukos' pain she set into a cup of water that had been set boiling on the hearth and then mulched it until it was drinkable. She set it to one side of the bed so that, if the man woke in and found himself in too much pain, he could relieve it. Though, in truth, the more sleep he could manage the better. The body tended to be a far greater healer than any herbal medicine.
At the thought, Neena had an idea and went outside to search Kreios' garden, before returning ten minutes later with her sought after forages. Taking a small pot on from the work bench, Neena quietly set in place a few stalks, leaves and little bundles of a particular kind of moss. She had no idea what all of their names were but she knew that they could each be used as a sedate, toxin or poison. What she was interested in, however, was the smell. Salty, waxy and damp. All the smells of the inside of a ship.
The body slept best - and therefore healed best - when it was surroundings it knew well and felt comfortable in. If Lukos was a pirate...
Neena set the little pot beside the cup of pain tonic, as close to Lukos' face as it could get without being in the way. She then lifted the blankets from his sleeping form to check the bandage which was still purest white and had yet to seep through and then returned the man his warmth before moving to take up a spot on the blanket that Kreios had laid out upon the floor.
As it was only late summer, the room, air and in fact whole kingdom was fairly warm. She needed no covering and she was used to far rougher sleeping accommodations. Not undressing, for she had only the one gossamer tunic, Neena simply removed her thong sandals, pushed her hair from her eyes and curled up to sleep, facing Kreios but with enough distance that he wouldn't be encroached upon.
Unconscious to her slumberous actions, Neena slept as she always did and by morning she was curled into a tight little ball, as if defensive of all the many threats she had woken up to over her time as a slave. Her knees were drawn all the way to her chest, her arms hidden within. Her little, light tunic had ridden up to around her waist and, as she never wore undergarments, her modesty was only kept by her heels drawn up to nestle directly beneath her bottom. Her spine curved around into so tight a bundle it might have appeared uncomfortable but her face was one of peaceful slumber, her eyelashes fluttering occasionally as she dreamed and a light smile upon her face...
He had drifted off way before Lukos responded in his barrage of words, but honestly even if Kreios had heard, he likely would not have responded. While arguments between him and the pirate were likely to go on for hours, and sometimes even escalated to actual fist fights, by then he was too bone tired to even muster up a proper response. A whole night worth of being up was not conducive to proper rest, and despite his usual countenance of being able to withstand anything, even Kreios needed bedtime.
Sleep claimed him quickly, so much so that he did not notice it even when Neena slipped into bed. The space between them was not large and expansive by any means (for the home itself was small to begin with), so by the time the merchant woke up, he could feel the heat radiating off the girl whom he realized he now slept next to, a distance close enough that he could reach her if he simply extended his forearm.
Instead, the man merely propped his head up on a hand lying sideways, peering at her sleeping form. It was curled up like a foetus, almost as if she was trying to protect herself from something, and Kreios couldn't help but wonder if this was a habit cultivated from years of a life he could only imagine about. Never one to talk or question much, despite them having spent almost half a month together, Kreios realized he barely knew her history... and for the first time found himself curious.
His brow knitted at this knowledge, his eyes travelled down her form, and then the furrow deepened at how bare she was with her tunic riding up around her waist. Eyes immediately darted to the form of the pirate on his bed, as if he was ensuring the other remained asleep, before Kreios quickly flicked his wrist to have the sheet he had used to cover his feet, to now cover the rest of her bare bottom arsed, before getting up himself.
Running a hand through his mussed up bedhead, the man blinked a few times to get the remnants of sleep out of his eyes, peering around the small area. Breakfast would have to be simple, for all he had was some salted meat and fruits from his garden, and hopes that the goat wandering around the compound had some milk in her. Apparently, a trip to the market was necessary.
Heading over to check on the invalid's bandage, Kreios's amused eyes look up at the sleeping form, a wry-smile creeping upon his face as he prodded the injury a little harder then supposed to. "Awake yet, pirate?"
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He had drifted off way before Lukos responded in his barrage of words, but honestly even if Kreios had heard, he likely would not have responded. While arguments between him and the pirate were likely to go on for hours, and sometimes even escalated to actual fist fights, by then he was too bone tired to even muster up a proper response. A whole night worth of being up was not conducive to proper rest, and despite his usual countenance of being able to withstand anything, even Kreios needed bedtime.
Sleep claimed him quickly, so much so that he did not notice it even when Neena slipped into bed. The space between them was not large and expansive by any means (for the home itself was small to begin with), so by the time the merchant woke up, he could feel the heat radiating off the girl whom he realized he now slept next to, a distance close enough that he could reach her if he simply extended his forearm.
Instead, the man merely propped his head up on a hand lying sideways, peering at her sleeping form. It was curled up like a foetus, almost as if she was trying to protect herself from something, and Kreios couldn't help but wonder if this was a habit cultivated from years of a life he could only imagine about. Never one to talk or question much, despite them having spent almost half a month together, Kreios realized he barely knew her history... and for the first time found himself curious.
His brow knitted at this knowledge, his eyes travelled down her form, and then the furrow deepened at how bare she was with her tunic riding up around her waist. Eyes immediately darted to the form of the pirate on his bed, as if he was ensuring the other remained asleep, before Kreios quickly flicked his wrist to have the sheet he had used to cover his feet, to now cover the rest of her bare bottom arsed, before getting up himself.
Running a hand through his mussed up bedhead, the man blinked a few times to get the remnants of sleep out of his eyes, peering around the small area. Breakfast would have to be simple, for all he had was some salted meat and fruits from his garden, and hopes that the goat wandering around the compound had some milk in her. Apparently, a trip to the market was necessary.
Heading over to check on the invalid's bandage, Kreios's amused eyes look up at the sleeping form, a wry-smile creeping upon his face as he prodded the injury a little harder then supposed to. "Awake yet, pirate?"
He had drifted off way before Lukos responded in his barrage of words, but honestly even if Kreios had heard, he likely would not have responded. While arguments between him and the pirate were likely to go on for hours, and sometimes even escalated to actual fist fights, by then he was too bone tired to even muster up a proper response. A whole night worth of being up was not conducive to proper rest, and despite his usual countenance of being able to withstand anything, even Kreios needed bedtime.
Sleep claimed him quickly, so much so that he did not notice it even when Neena slipped into bed. The space between them was not large and expansive by any means (for the home itself was small to begin with), so by the time the merchant woke up, he could feel the heat radiating off the girl whom he realized he now slept next to, a distance close enough that he could reach her if he simply extended his forearm.
Instead, the man merely propped his head up on a hand lying sideways, peering at her sleeping form. It was curled up like a foetus, almost as if she was trying to protect herself from something, and Kreios couldn't help but wonder if this was a habit cultivated from years of a life he could only imagine about. Never one to talk or question much, despite them having spent almost half a month together, Kreios realized he barely knew her history... and for the first time found himself curious.
His brow knitted at this knowledge, his eyes travelled down her form, and then the furrow deepened at how bare she was with her tunic riding up around her waist. Eyes immediately darted to the form of the pirate on his bed, as if he was ensuring the other remained asleep, before Kreios quickly flicked his wrist to have the sheet he had used to cover his feet, to now cover the rest of her bare bottom arsed, before getting up himself.
Running a hand through his mussed up bedhead, the man blinked a few times to get the remnants of sleep out of his eyes, peering around the small area. Breakfast would have to be simple, for all he had was some salted meat and fruits from his garden, and hopes that the goat wandering around the compound had some milk in her. Apparently, a trip to the market was necessary.
Heading over to check on the invalid's bandage, Kreios's amused eyes look up at the sleeping form, a wry-smile creeping upon his face as he prodded the injury a little harder then supposed to. "Awake yet, pirate?"
He slipped into darkness, drifting in the nothing, half stirring a few times. The necessary clinking of a spoon against the rim of a cup. The liquid pouring. Soft footsteps tiptoeing to and from the fireplace. A hollow scrape of the cup being set on the wooden bedside table. Retreating footsteps and a door creaking open and closed. He roused just enough to discern that there was a cup of what he assumed to be medicine beside him. It smelled awful enough. While Neena was gone, he drank quite a bit of that and lapsed back into a fitful sleep.
His drawn brows relaxed when Neena set down the small pot, the scents doing exactly what she’d intended them to do. Through the open window, he could still smell the sea. This coupled with other familiar things that brought to mind candles and wood and the damp hold of the Aceon made his body relax completely, like it knew better than he did. The only thing missing was the low creaking of the timbers and the gentle sway. He was too deeply asleep now to miss those two elements and did not wake at all except for one other time to take the rest of the tea in the cup after a few hours had passed.
Noise grew around the house as they slept. The sun rose and the city awoke. Still the people in the house slept on until one by one, they woke. Kreios first and Lukos began to surface into consciousness at the whisper of fabric and then steps. He was aware of Kreios’s presence before the man spoke, but not properly awake until then.
"Awake yet, pirate?" Kreios asked in his usual dry manner. The prod to his side was what did it for Lukos. His hand closed into a fist and he swung it hard into Kreios’s stomach. Immediately he sat up and groaned in pain and instant regret for having done that. Agony shot up his side and he fell back against the bed with a gasp and a wide eyed, hard stare at his own side, angry at the betrayal of his own body.
“Fuck you,” he snarled at Kreios but sat up again, slower this time, knocking the other man out of the way as he eased himself to the side of the bed to stand. The bandage had been white and clean last night but it was a mixture of deep red, tinged with watery yellow this morning. Parts of it were hard and dried, with new blood staining it now.
Lukos’s sharp eyes pinned Kreios. He was not of Neena’s opinion that Kreios was sweet and kind. He didn’t know why the poison merchant had decided to help but what he did know was that Kreios was insistent on being as grating as possible. There was no kindness to prodding someone pointlessly, from Lukos’s point of view and until Kreios decided to play peacefully, Lukos was in no mood to be needled.
“I’m up now. Where are my clothes?” He looked around, not immediately sure if a crumpled heap in the corner was them or not. If it was, that was unfortunate. They were most likely blood soaked and damp. The blanket was on the bed and he stood naked and bandaged, as uncaring about his state as Neena apparently was about hers. In order to get away from Kreios, Lukos put his palm to the wall and walked gingerly toward the door. He wasn’t about to make the mistake of asking for help from Kreios twice. The last time had been needlessly jarring and he didn’t trust himself not to take the other man by the throat if he tried it again. Judging from the way Neena attempted to protect Kreios, he expected no support from her either.
“I’m going outside,” he said to whoever cared. Fuck Kreios’s neighbors. If they hadn’t seen a naked man pee before, they were about to now.
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He slipped into darkness, drifting in the nothing, half stirring a few times. The necessary clinking of a spoon against the rim of a cup. The liquid pouring. Soft footsteps tiptoeing to and from the fireplace. A hollow scrape of the cup being set on the wooden bedside table. Retreating footsteps and a door creaking open and closed. He roused just enough to discern that there was a cup of what he assumed to be medicine beside him. It smelled awful enough. While Neena was gone, he drank quite a bit of that and lapsed back into a fitful sleep.
His drawn brows relaxed when Neena set down the small pot, the scents doing exactly what she’d intended them to do. Through the open window, he could still smell the sea. This coupled with other familiar things that brought to mind candles and wood and the damp hold of the Aceon made his body relax completely, like it knew better than he did. The only thing missing was the low creaking of the timbers and the gentle sway. He was too deeply asleep now to miss those two elements and did not wake at all except for one other time to take the rest of the tea in the cup after a few hours had passed.
Noise grew around the house as they slept. The sun rose and the city awoke. Still the people in the house slept on until one by one, they woke. Kreios first and Lukos began to surface into consciousness at the whisper of fabric and then steps. He was aware of Kreios’s presence before the man spoke, but not properly awake until then.
"Awake yet, pirate?" Kreios asked in his usual dry manner. The prod to his side was what did it for Lukos. His hand closed into a fist and he swung it hard into Kreios’s stomach. Immediately he sat up and groaned in pain and instant regret for having done that. Agony shot up his side and he fell back against the bed with a gasp and a wide eyed, hard stare at his own side, angry at the betrayal of his own body.
“Fuck you,” he snarled at Kreios but sat up again, slower this time, knocking the other man out of the way as he eased himself to the side of the bed to stand. The bandage had been white and clean last night but it was a mixture of deep red, tinged with watery yellow this morning. Parts of it were hard and dried, with new blood staining it now.
Lukos’s sharp eyes pinned Kreios. He was not of Neena’s opinion that Kreios was sweet and kind. He didn’t know why the poison merchant had decided to help but what he did know was that Kreios was insistent on being as grating as possible. There was no kindness to prodding someone pointlessly, from Lukos’s point of view and until Kreios decided to play peacefully, Lukos was in no mood to be needled.
“I’m up now. Where are my clothes?” He looked around, not immediately sure if a crumpled heap in the corner was them or not. If it was, that was unfortunate. They were most likely blood soaked and damp. The blanket was on the bed and he stood naked and bandaged, as uncaring about his state as Neena apparently was about hers. In order to get away from Kreios, Lukos put his palm to the wall and walked gingerly toward the door. He wasn’t about to make the mistake of asking for help from Kreios twice. The last time had been needlessly jarring and he didn’t trust himself not to take the other man by the throat if he tried it again. Judging from the way Neena attempted to protect Kreios, he expected no support from her either.
“I’m going outside,” he said to whoever cared. Fuck Kreios’s neighbors. If they hadn’t seen a naked man pee before, they were about to now.
He slipped into darkness, drifting in the nothing, half stirring a few times. The necessary clinking of a spoon against the rim of a cup. The liquid pouring. Soft footsteps tiptoeing to and from the fireplace. A hollow scrape of the cup being set on the wooden bedside table. Retreating footsteps and a door creaking open and closed. He roused just enough to discern that there was a cup of what he assumed to be medicine beside him. It smelled awful enough. While Neena was gone, he drank quite a bit of that and lapsed back into a fitful sleep.
His drawn brows relaxed when Neena set down the small pot, the scents doing exactly what she’d intended them to do. Through the open window, he could still smell the sea. This coupled with other familiar things that brought to mind candles and wood and the damp hold of the Aceon made his body relax completely, like it knew better than he did. The only thing missing was the low creaking of the timbers and the gentle sway. He was too deeply asleep now to miss those two elements and did not wake at all except for one other time to take the rest of the tea in the cup after a few hours had passed.
Noise grew around the house as they slept. The sun rose and the city awoke. Still the people in the house slept on until one by one, they woke. Kreios first and Lukos began to surface into consciousness at the whisper of fabric and then steps. He was aware of Kreios’s presence before the man spoke, but not properly awake until then.
"Awake yet, pirate?" Kreios asked in his usual dry manner. The prod to his side was what did it for Lukos. His hand closed into a fist and he swung it hard into Kreios’s stomach. Immediately he sat up and groaned in pain and instant regret for having done that. Agony shot up his side and he fell back against the bed with a gasp and a wide eyed, hard stare at his own side, angry at the betrayal of his own body.
“Fuck you,” he snarled at Kreios but sat up again, slower this time, knocking the other man out of the way as he eased himself to the side of the bed to stand. The bandage had been white and clean last night but it was a mixture of deep red, tinged with watery yellow this morning. Parts of it were hard and dried, with new blood staining it now.
Lukos’s sharp eyes pinned Kreios. He was not of Neena’s opinion that Kreios was sweet and kind. He didn’t know why the poison merchant had decided to help but what he did know was that Kreios was insistent on being as grating as possible. There was no kindness to prodding someone pointlessly, from Lukos’s point of view and until Kreios decided to play peacefully, Lukos was in no mood to be needled.
“I’m up now. Where are my clothes?” He looked around, not immediately sure if a crumpled heap in the corner was them or not. If it was, that was unfortunate. They were most likely blood soaked and damp. The blanket was on the bed and he stood naked and bandaged, as uncaring about his state as Neena apparently was about hers. In order to get away from Kreios, Lukos put his palm to the wall and walked gingerly toward the door. He wasn’t about to make the mistake of asking for help from Kreios twice. The last time had been needlessly jarring and he didn’t trust himself not to take the other man by the throat if he tried it again. Judging from the way Neena attempted to protect Kreios, he expected no support from her either.
“I’m going outside,” he said to whoever cared. Fuck Kreios’s neighbors. If they hadn’t seen a naked man pee before, they were about to now.
Neena was neither a particularly light or deep sleeper, but when an injured man was being prodded and startled awake with a cry of pain, it was hard to stay in the world of slumber. Her eyes popping open and her head turning, her hair mussed and wild, Neena witnessed only the underside of the bed and a man's feet on the other side where Kreios was looming above their patient.
Bracing her hands on the floor and pushing her upper body higher so that she might peer over the edge of the blanketed bed, she watched as the two idiots grumbled and cussed at one another and Lukos decided to remove himself from the situation.
Totally uncaring that the pirate was naked aside from a bandage wrapped around his waist and un-noticing of the blanket that had been positioned over her legs, Neena found purchase on the floor with her feet and pushed herself quickly and fluidly to standing, the layers of her unorthodox tunic falling into place as Lukos left the room.
"A morning meal might be my effective than torment, don't you think?"
With a raised eyebrow in Kreios' direction, clearly querying the wisdom of irritating the man whose life he had saved, Neena followed the pirate through the door on her bare feet, a hand reaching into her hair to shake out the curly mop that was her African inheritance.
At the door to the outside garden, Neena leant herself against the doorframe and yawned widely without grace or poise.
"You need help holding that or are you steadier this morning?" She asked, half needling him for the fun of it and half genuinely curious as to his recovery. His bandage had seeped and stained and she was concerned for the yellowing in the fabric that might suggest infection but, if he was afflicted by one, he would have a fever by now. She'd have to check when he wasn't being so prickly.
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Neena was neither a particularly light or deep sleeper, but when an injured man was being prodded and startled awake with a cry of pain, it was hard to stay in the world of slumber. Her eyes popping open and her head turning, her hair mussed and wild, Neena witnessed only the underside of the bed and a man's feet on the other side where Kreios was looming above their patient.
Bracing her hands on the floor and pushing her upper body higher so that she might peer over the edge of the blanketed bed, she watched as the two idiots grumbled and cussed at one another and Lukos decided to remove himself from the situation.
Totally uncaring that the pirate was naked aside from a bandage wrapped around his waist and un-noticing of the blanket that had been positioned over her legs, Neena found purchase on the floor with her feet and pushed herself quickly and fluidly to standing, the layers of her unorthodox tunic falling into place as Lukos left the room.
"A morning meal might be my effective than torment, don't you think?"
With a raised eyebrow in Kreios' direction, clearly querying the wisdom of irritating the man whose life he had saved, Neena followed the pirate through the door on her bare feet, a hand reaching into her hair to shake out the curly mop that was her African inheritance.
At the door to the outside garden, Neena leant herself against the doorframe and yawned widely without grace or poise.
"You need help holding that or are you steadier this morning?" She asked, half needling him for the fun of it and half genuinely curious as to his recovery. His bandage had seeped and stained and she was concerned for the yellowing in the fabric that might suggest infection but, if he was afflicted by one, he would have a fever by now. She'd have to check when he wasn't being so prickly.
Neena was neither a particularly light or deep sleeper, but when an injured man was being prodded and startled awake with a cry of pain, it was hard to stay in the world of slumber. Her eyes popping open and her head turning, her hair mussed and wild, Neena witnessed only the underside of the bed and a man's feet on the other side where Kreios was looming above their patient.
Bracing her hands on the floor and pushing her upper body higher so that she might peer over the edge of the blanketed bed, she watched as the two idiots grumbled and cussed at one another and Lukos decided to remove himself from the situation.
Totally uncaring that the pirate was naked aside from a bandage wrapped around his waist and un-noticing of the blanket that had been positioned over her legs, Neena found purchase on the floor with her feet and pushed herself quickly and fluidly to standing, the layers of her unorthodox tunic falling into place as Lukos left the room.
"A morning meal might be my effective than torment, don't you think?"
With a raised eyebrow in Kreios' direction, clearly querying the wisdom of irritating the man whose life he had saved, Neena followed the pirate through the door on her bare feet, a hand reaching into her hair to shake out the curly mop that was her African inheritance.
At the door to the outside garden, Neena leant herself against the doorframe and yawned widely without grace or poise.
"You need help holding that or are you steadier this morning?" She asked, half needling him for the fun of it and half genuinely curious as to his recovery. His bandage had seeped and stained and she was concerned for the yellowing in the fabric that might suggest infection but, if he was afflicted by one, he would have a fever by now. She'd have to check when he wasn't being so prickly.
He scoffed at the expletive Lukos hissed at him, but the man fully expected him. Whether it was due to a past life of theirs that resulted in their current animosity, or just the fact that they were two personalities that could never gel, whatever it was, Kreios found a great joy in goading the pirate's easy temper, and that Lukos responded so easily to his goading made the man smirk - even if it was from being on the ground, after falling back from the punch. He may not have let Lukos die, but that didn't mean he couldn't make his life miserable while he could, and why not take the chance while the other was partially incapitated right?
Watching as the man all but lurched around due to his injury, he rubbed the place where he had been punch with a light wince, getting to his feet again as he tossed a nonchalant hand. "I tossed them. They were unsalvageable, your blood." the man muttered by way of an explanation.
With one last look as the pirate tried to make his way outside, Kreios watched as Neena got up, and rolled his eyes. "It would be effective, but that doesn't mean I want to eb nice to him." he replied as if it was the most common sense thing in the world, opening a chest that was filled with clothes tucked off in one corner of the room. From its depths, he pulled out a rumpled, simple tunic that was long enough to reach one's knees. The material was likely rough to the skin, but it was this tunic that Kreios tossed at Neena leaning by the doorframe. "Get him dressed before someone decides to think I'm housing lunatic strippers."
Leaving them to their own devices (for Lukos was unlikely to kill himself or die at the hands of Thanatos now that he was alive and able to actually deliver a punch that could take the wind out of him, he puttered off to the back area of his small house, and grabbed a jar of honey along with a few barley bread that were wrapped in a cloth. They were stale, likely old by now, but not bad yet, and would serve until he's had some time to head out to the markets.
On his way back in, he picked up a pitcher of old wine, before re-entering the main living area and leaving what he had grabbed on the table. Picking up a piece of barley bread for himself, Kreios merely waved at the motley assortment of people whom had inhabited his house as he headed out. "I'm going to get us some food before we all starve. Don't kill yourselves."
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He scoffed at the expletive Lukos hissed at him, but the man fully expected him. Whether it was due to a past life of theirs that resulted in their current animosity, or just the fact that they were two personalities that could never gel, whatever it was, Kreios found a great joy in goading the pirate's easy temper, and that Lukos responded so easily to his goading made the man smirk - even if it was from being on the ground, after falling back from the punch. He may not have let Lukos die, but that didn't mean he couldn't make his life miserable while he could, and why not take the chance while the other was partially incapitated right?
Watching as the man all but lurched around due to his injury, he rubbed the place where he had been punch with a light wince, getting to his feet again as he tossed a nonchalant hand. "I tossed them. They were unsalvageable, your blood." the man muttered by way of an explanation.
With one last look as the pirate tried to make his way outside, Kreios watched as Neena got up, and rolled his eyes. "It would be effective, but that doesn't mean I want to eb nice to him." he replied as if it was the most common sense thing in the world, opening a chest that was filled with clothes tucked off in one corner of the room. From its depths, he pulled out a rumpled, simple tunic that was long enough to reach one's knees. The material was likely rough to the skin, but it was this tunic that Kreios tossed at Neena leaning by the doorframe. "Get him dressed before someone decides to think I'm housing lunatic strippers."
Leaving them to their own devices (for Lukos was unlikely to kill himself or die at the hands of Thanatos now that he was alive and able to actually deliver a punch that could take the wind out of him, he puttered off to the back area of his small house, and grabbed a jar of honey along with a few barley bread that were wrapped in a cloth. They were stale, likely old by now, but not bad yet, and would serve until he's had some time to head out to the markets.
On his way back in, he picked up a pitcher of old wine, before re-entering the main living area and leaving what he had grabbed on the table. Picking up a piece of barley bread for himself, Kreios merely waved at the motley assortment of people whom had inhabited his house as he headed out. "I'm going to get us some food before we all starve. Don't kill yourselves."
He scoffed at the expletive Lukos hissed at him, but the man fully expected him. Whether it was due to a past life of theirs that resulted in their current animosity, or just the fact that they were two personalities that could never gel, whatever it was, Kreios found a great joy in goading the pirate's easy temper, and that Lukos responded so easily to his goading made the man smirk - even if it was from being on the ground, after falling back from the punch. He may not have let Lukos die, but that didn't mean he couldn't make his life miserable while he could, and why not take the chance while the other was partially incapitated right?
Watching as the man all but lurched around due to his injury, he rubbed the place where he had been punch with a light wince, getting to his feet again as he tossed a nonchalant hand. "I tossed them. They were unsalvageable, your blood." the man muttered by way of an explanation.
With one last look as the pirate tried to make his way outside, Kreios watched as Neena got up, and rolled his eyes. "It would be effective, but that doesn't mean I want to eb nice to him." he replied as if it was the most common sense thing in the world, opening a chest that was filled with clothes tucked off in one corner of the room. From its depths, he pulled out a rumpled, simple tunic that was long enough to reach one's knees. The material was likely rough to the skin, but it was this tunic that Kreios tossed at Neena leaning by the doorframe. "Get him dressed before someone decides to think I'm housing lunatic strippers."
Leaving them to their own devices (for Lukos was unlikely to kill himself or die at the hands of Thanatos now that he was alive and able to actually deliver a punch that could take the wind out of him, he puttered off to the back area of his small house, and grabbed a jar of honey along with a few barley bread that were wrapped in a cloth. They were stale, likely old by now, but not bad yet, and would serve until he's had some time to head out to the markets.
On his way back in, he picked up a pitcher of old wine, before re-entering the main living area and leaving what he had grabbed on the table. Picking up a piece of barley bread for himself, Kreios merely waved at the motley assortment of people whom had inhabited his house as he headed out. "I'm going to get us some food before we all starve. Don't kill yourselves."
His annoyance with Kreios was short lived. The longer he was outside the house, standing in the golden glow of the afternoon sun, with the soft breezes caressing his bare skin, the more his irritation melted away into something bordering on peaceful. He didn’t have the energy or inclination to stay hugely angry at a man who, ultimately, mattered so very little in the grand scheme of his life. They rarely saw each other. Kreios was busy doing his thing, Lukos stayed concerned about his own affairs; why waste thought on someone who couldn’t give less of a fuck about him? Sentiments that he definitely returned.
Besides, there was something else to ponder. Why had Kreios saved him at all? Or had it been some kind of accident? The man’s empathy was about as big as a mouse dropping and just about as pleasant. No, Kreios had a reason. Kreios always had reasons. That thought made him look up. What did Kreios want in return? A nameless favor? That was the kind of debt that Lukos was racking up quite a bit of, lately. A debt easy to ignore.
Hopefully Kreios would die before he could cash in whatever he wanted in exchange. A life for a life, perhaps? Did the merchant want someone murdered? That’d be interesting. Someone Kreios deemed beneath poisoning? That might be the whole of Vasiliadon, just judging from Kreios’s ego.
"You need help holding that or are you steadier this morning?"
Neena’s voice danced cheerfully from the doorway, prompting him to turn and look her over, now that he could see her better. The turn was stiff and shallow. It didn’t matter if he twisted using his good or bad side. Both hurt, and so he only glanced at her before moving his body completely around. He held his side, rather than his groin and arched a brow.
“I wish you’d have asked earlier. I’d have said yes. I’m done now.” This last bit was unnecessary to add, but Kreios’s shadowed form ghosted behind her long enough to both distract Lukos and make him roll his eyes.
"I'm going to get us some food before we all starve. Don't kill yourselves."
“Alright, nanny,” Lukos said. Kreios may or may not have heard him. The door shut with a smart rap half a second later and he found himself alone with Kreios’s pretty, though confusing addition.“Quick, you’re alone. Blink if you need help,” he managed to tease but he was now trying to get around her, rather than do much else. His side was beginning to throb and the good mood he’d momentarily adopted began to slide away like an avalanche from the face of a jagged mountain.
It was then that his eyes fell to the clothes that Kreios had thrown to Neena. “He’ll bitch at me for bleeding on those too,” he said acidly. “And then whine at me to wash them.” As though to ensure that this dire prediction would have a satisfactory end for himself, he added as he brushed past her, without taking the clothes, “Which I will not. I’ll punch him in his perfect face again before I’ll go near his fucking wash bucket.”
He’d have preferred his walk to be the normal confident stride, as though he owned the planet. What he was reduced to was more of a hitching gait, punctuated by sucking air in through gritted teeth and a powerfully black expression that promised no one an ounce of mercy. On the pitifully small table lay a lumpy bundle and a jar that he guessed to be poison.
“What’s this, then?” he groused and jerked back the cloth to reveal stale bread. So Kreios didn’t intend to starve them. Fine. Perhaps the man had a modicum of humanity. With a clatter, he lifted the jar’s lid to find honey and he raised his eyebrows, frankly shocked that Kreios would share such a thing. Honey was not something Lukos often came by and it was definitely something that he loved.
“Well. I think this is due more to you than to me,” he said to Neena, without twisting his torso, this time. A simple turn of his head and he had most of her in view.
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His annoyance with Kreios was short lived. The longer he was outside the house, standing in the golden glow of the afternoon sun, with the soft breezes caressing his bare skin, the more his irritation melted away into something bordering on peaceful. He didn’t have the energy or inclination to stay hugely angry at a man who, ultimately, mattered so very little in the grand scheme of his life. They rarely saw each other. Kreios was busy doing his thing, Lukos stayed concerned about his own affairs; why waste thought on someone who couldn’t give less of a fuck about him? Sentiments that he definitely returned.
Besides, there was something else to ponder. Why had Kreios saved him at all? Or had it been some kind of accident? The man’s empathy was about as big as a mouse dropping and just about as pleasant. No, Kreios had a reason. Kreios always had reasons. That thought made him look up. What did Kreios want in return? A nameless favor? That was the kind of debt that Lukos was racking up quite a bit of, lately. A debt easy to ignore.
Hopefully Kreios would die before he could cash in whatever he wanted in exchange. A life for a life, perhaps? Did the merchant want someone murdered? That’d be interesting. Someone Kreios deemed beneath poisoning? That might be the whole of Vasiliadon, just judging from Kreios’s ego.
"You need help holding that or are you steadier this morning?"
Neena’s voice danced cheerfully from the doorway, prompting him to turn and look her over, now that he could see her better. The turn was stiff and shallow. It didn’t matter if he twisted using his good or bad side. Both hurt, and so he only glanced at her before moving his body completely around. He held his side, rather than his groin and arched a brow.
“I wish you’d have asked earlier. I’d have said yes. I’m done now.” This last bit was unnecessary to add, but Kreios’s shadowed form ghosted behind her long enough to both distract Lukos and make him roll his eyes.
"I'm going to get us some food before we all starve. Don't kill yourselves."
“Alright, nanny,” Lukos said. Kreios may or may not have heard him. The door shut with a smart rap half a second later and he found himself alone with Kreios’s pretty, though confusing addition.“Quick, you’re alone. Blink if you need help,” he managed to tease but he was now trying to get around her, rather than do much else. His side was beginning to throb and the good mood he’d momentarily adopted began to slide away like an avalanche from the face of a jagged mountain.
It was then that his eyes fell to the clothes that Kreios had thrown to Neena. “He’ll bitch at me for bleeding on those too,” he said acidly. “And then whine at me to wash them.” As though to ensure that this dire prediction would have a satisfactory end for himself, he added as he brushed past her, without taking the clothes, “Which I will not. I’ll punch him in his perfect face again before I’ll go near his fucking wash bucket.”
He’d have preferred his walk to be the normal confident stride, as though he owned the planet. What he was reduced to was more of a hitching gait, punctuated by sucking air in through gritted teeth and a powerfully black expression that promised no one an ounce of mercy. On the pitifully small table lay a lumpy bundle and a jar that he guessed to be poison.
“What’s this, then?” he groused and jerked back the cloth to reveal stale bread. So Kreios didn’t intend to starve them. Fine. Perhaps the man had a modicum of humanity. With a clatter, he lifted the jar’s lid to find honey and he raised his eyebrows, frankly shocked that Kreios would share such a thing. Honey was not something Lukos often came by and it was definitely something that he loved.
“Well. I think this is due more to you than to me,” he said to Neena, without twisting his torso, this time. A simple turn of his head and he had most of her in view.
His annoyance with Kreios was short lived. The longer he was outside the house, standing in the golden glow of the afternoon sun, with the soft breezes caressing his bare skin, the more his irritation melted away into something bordering on peaceful. He didn’t have the energy or inclination to stay hugely angry at a man who, ultimately, mattered so very little in the grand scheme of his life. They rarely saw each other. Kreios was busy doing his thing, Lukos stayed concerned about his own affairs; why waste thought on someone who couldn’t give less of a fuck about him? Sentiments that he definitely returned.
Besides, there was something else to ponder. Why had Kreios saved him at all? Or had it been some kind of accident? The man’s empathy was about as big as a mouse dropping and just about as pleasant. No, Kreios had a reason. Kreios always had reasons. That thought made him look up. What did Kreios want in return? A nameless favor? That was the kind of debt that Lukos was racking up quite a bit of, lately. A debt easy to ignore.
Hopefully Kreios would die before he could cash in whatever he wanted in exchange. A life for a life, perhaps? Did the merchant want someone murdered? That’d be interesting. Someone Kreios deemed beneath poisoning? That might be the whole of Vasiliadon, just judging from Kreios’s ego.
"You need help holding that or are you steadier this morning?"
Neena’s voice danced cheerfully from the doorway, prompting him to turn and look her over, now that he could see her better. The turn was stiff and shallow. It didn’t matter if he twisted using his good or bad side. Both hurt, and so he only glanced at her before moving his body completely around. He held his side, rather than his groin and arched a brow.
“I wish you’d have asked earlier. I’d have said yes. I’m done now.” This last bit was unnecessary to add, but Kreios’s shadowed form ghosted behind her long enough to both distract Lukos and make him roll his eyes.
"I'm going to get us some food before we all starve. Don't kill yourselves."
“Alright, nanny,” Lukos said. Kreios may or may not have heard him. The door shut with a smart rap half a second later and he found himself alone with Kreios’s pretty, though confusing addition.“Quick, you’re alone. Blink if you need help,” he managed to tease but he was now trying to get around her, rather than do much else. His side was beginning to throb and the good mood he’d momentarily adopted began to slide away like an avalanche from the face of a jagged mountain.
It was then that his eyes fell to the clothes that Kreios had thrown to Neena. “He’ll bitch at me for bleeding on those too,” he said acidly. “And then whine at me to wash them.” As though to ensure that this dire prediction would have a satisfactory end for himself, he added as he brushed past her, without taking the clothes, “Which I will not. I’ll punch him in his perfect face again before I’ll go near his fucking wash bucket.”
He’d have preferred his walk to be the normal confident stride, as though he owned the planet. What he was reduced to was more of a hitching gait, punctuated by sucking air in through gritted teeth and a powerfully black expression that promised no one an ounce of mercy. On the pitifully small table lay a lumpy bundle and a jar that he guessed to be poison.
“What’s this, then?” he groused and jerked back the cloth to reveal stale bread. So Kreios didn’t intend to starve them. Fine. Perhaps the man had a modicum of humanity. With a clatter, he lifted the jar’s lid to find honey and he raised his eyebrows, frankly shocked that Kreios would share such a thing. Honey was not something Lukos often came by and it was definitely something that he loved.
“Well. I think this is due more to you than to me,” he said to Neena, without twisting his torso, this time. A simple turn of his head and he had most of her in view.
As Kreios passed them by, Neena offered a sweet smile that was beyond any awkwardness of a passing stranger. She almost appeared a perfectly content little wife, offering a friendly and pretty demeanour as her husband left to secure them breakfast. The illusion was immediately ruined, however, when she snagged the garment he threw at her with her left hand, speedy and accurate, with a strength and precision no little domestic spouse would be able to muster. She then leaned with severe nonchalance as she watched Lukos across the garden, giving Kreios a simple finger salute as he left, rolling her eyes at his determination that they should not kill each other or themselves.
Standing the doorway, Neena's eyes travelled over the pirate's form as he finished about his business and headed once more towards her and the building, sliding past her on the way back into the single room that seemed to consist of both bed chamber and living quarters. The fire from the night before had burnt out, but the sun was hot in Greece and there was no need for the hearth to be lit during the day. Instead, only the sunlight from outside, petering through the open window chasms caught the shape of each of them and brought them into light.
Neena's gaze was both approving and speculative. She assessed him as a healer and physician would... checking how the stitches in his side pulled but stayed put with his movements, how the skin around the incision was no longer blooming red as if there were bleeding beneath the surface... how the rest of his body was strong and muscled from working on the sea and would be able to benefit and support his abdomen as he moved. One of the main reasons patients regressed, in her experience, was that they were not healthy enough before the issue at hand. If they had the strength to compensate a failing part of their anatomy, they tended to heal faster.
By her assessing - though admittedly not the most experienced - eye, Lukos would, within a few days, be back to normal, his side simply delicate, and within a few weeks he would be scarring up nicely and be almost entirely himself once more.
His nudity was of no distraction to her. Unlike other women - especially delicate Greek types - who might turn their gaze away, shield their eyes or make a noise of protest at such a vulgar display of vanity, Neena did no such thing and simply watched him walk about with a strong, yet slightly unsteady step without shame or shyness.
Whilst the Bedoans were protective of their female nudity, they were not so much with their men. On top of which, growing up on a ship, Neena had spent days and weeks in the company of men who wore very little beneath the burning sun of the sea. Since she had left her husband and his wife back in Bedoa, Neena had explored her sexuality on a number of occasions, whenever she felt the desire to and had therefore been exposed to further debauchery without cost or consequence. Despite having only ever gone to bed with two individuals whom she could claim to love and be in a relationship with - Neena was far from a wilting flower of delicacy.
She was even brazen enough to openly admire the pirate's butt as he walked on by, her head on the tilt and her thick lips pursed in approving contemplation. She gave absolutely no signs of contrition when he turned to glance at her, catching her in the act. She simply moved her gaze to his face.
With a noise of disbelief rasping from between her lips, Neena smiled and shook her head, her teeth a bright white in her dark face.
"Hardly." She stated with an assurance that belied her previous teases about Kreios' sexual behavior to be pure fallacy. It wasn't as if she and Kreios held any particular relationship that would lead to special treatment. "I barely know the grump." She added, seeing no need to continue her jest from the day before.
She couldn't help but find his attitude to be entirely bewildering. He grumbled about the clothes offered. He grumbled about the food not having been laid out for him instead of her... Did nothing satisfy this man? And why on earth did each of these two want to spend their lives so intolerably depressed and negative. Internally, she rolled her eyes. The two were frickin' perfect for each other.
"Are you ever just grateful for anything?" She asked the man, her secret thoughts slipping from between her lips before she could stop them. She folded her arms, the tunic pushed into the curve of her elbow. Oh well... in for an obol, in for a drachmae. "You just constantly grumble. That's what I should call you two - Grumps and Grumble. The Downcast Duo." She shook her head as if in pity that the man couldn't just let go of whatever chip he had on his shoulder and enjoy life a little bit - especially given that he had just nearly lost his.
Moving over to the table a few feet away from where Lukos stood, Neena disposed of the tunic he clearly had no intention of wearing - far be it for her to insist him not to walk around naked - and quickly drew the pestle container that she had been working on the night before towards her. Within a few seconds, she had worked at the last of the herbs. The painkiller had been taken off of her hands by Kreios but she now set about finishing it, adding a little water from the wash bucket - no-one had cleaned themselves in it yet so it was fresh enough - and turning it into a watery sort of tea, with the tiniest bits of foliage floating in its shallow depths, the liquid itself tinged viridian. Turning without pomp or circumstance (for as much as she joked around, Neena was far from arrogant or needing of validation) she held the little dish out towards her patient.
"Have some of this." She instructed. "It will help with the pain and you can use the bread and honey afterwards. It tastes like arse."
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As Kreios passed them by, Neena offered a sweet smile that was beyond any awkwardness of a passing stranger. She almost appeared a perfectly content little wife, offering a friendly and pretty demeanour as her husband left to secure them breakfast. The illusion was immediately ruined, however, when she snagged the garment he threw at her with her left hand, speedy and accurate, with a strength and precision no little domestic spouse would be able to muster. She then leaned with severe nonchalance as she watched Lukos across the garden, giving Kreios a simple finger salute as he left, rolling her eyes at his determination that they should not kill each other or themselves.
Standing the doorway, Neena's eyes travelled over the pirate's form as he finished about his business and headed once more towards her and the building, sliding past her on the way back into the single room that seemed to consist of both bed chamber and living quarters. The fire from the night before had burnt out, but the sun was hot in Greece and there was no need for the hearth to be lit during the day. Instead, only the sunlight from outside, petering through the open window chasms caught the shape of each of them and brought them into light.
Neena's gaze was both approving and speculative. She assessed him as a healer and physician would... checking how the stitches in his side pulled but stayed put with his movements, how the skin around the incision was no longer blooming red as if there were bleeding beneath the surface... how the rest of his body was strong and muscled from working on the sea and would be able to benefit and support his abdomen as he moved. One of the main reasons patients regressed, in her experience, was that they were not healthy enough before the issue at hand. If they had the strength to compensate a failing part of their anatomy, they tended to heal faster.
By her assessing - though admittedly not the most experienced - eye, Lukos would, within a few days, be back to normal, his side simply delicate, and within a few weeks he would be scarring up nicely and be almost entirely himself once more.
His nudity was of no distraction to her. Unlike other women - especially delicate Greek types - who might turn their gaze away, shield their eyes or make a noise of protest at such a vulgar display of vanity, Neena did no such thing and simply watched him walk about with a strong, yet slightly unsteady step without shame or shyness.
Whilst the Bedoans were protective of their female nudity, they were not so much with their men. On top of which, growing up on a ship, Neena had spent days and weeks in the company of men who wore very little beneath the burning sun of the sea. Since she had left her husband and his wife back in Bedoa, Neena had explored her sexuality on a number of occasions, whenever she felt the desire to and had therefore been exposed to further debauchery without cost or consequence. Despite having only ever gone to bed with two individuals whom she could claim to love and be in a relationship with - Neena was far from a wilting flower of delicacy.
She was even brazen enough to openly admire the pirate's butt as he walked on by, her head on the tilt and her thick lips pursed in approving contemplation. She gave absolutely no signs of contrition when he turned to glance at her, catching her in the act. She simply moved her gaze to his face.
With a noise of disbelief rasping from between her lips, Neena smiled and shook her head, her teeth a bright white in her dark face.
"Hardly." She stated with an assurance that belied her previous teases about Kreios' sexual behavior to be pure fallacy. It wasn't as if she and Kreios held any particular relationship that would lead to special treatment. "I barely know the grump." She added, seeing no need to continue her jest from the day before.
She couldn't help but find his attitude to be entirely bewildering. He grumbled about the clothes offered. He grumbled about the food not having been laid out for him instead of her... Did nothing satisfy this man? And why on earth did each of these two want to spend their lives so intolerably depressed and negative. Internally, she rolled her eyes. The two were frickin' perfect for each other.
"Are you ever just grateful for anything?" She asked the man, her secret thoughts slipping from between her lips before she could stop them. She folded her arms, the tunic pushed into the curve of her elbow. Oh well... in for an obol, in for a drachmae. "You just constantly grumble. That's what I should call you two - Grumps and Grumble. The Downcast Duo." She shook her head as if in pity that the man couldn't just let go of whatever chip he had on his shoulder and enjoy life a little bit - especially given that he had just nearly lost his.
Moving over to the table a few feet away from where Lukos stood, Neena disposed of the tunic he clearly had no intention of wearing - far be it for her to insist him not to walk around naked - and quickly drew the pestle container that she had been working on the night before towards her. Within a few seconds, she had worked at the last of the herbs. The painkiller had been taken off of her hands by Kreios but she now set about finishing it, adding a little water from the wash bucket - no-one had cleaned themselves in it yet so it was fresh enough - and turning it into a watery sort of tea, with the tiniest bits of foliage floating in its shallow depths, the liquid itself tinged viridian. Turning without pomp or circumstance (for as much as she joked around, Neena was far from arrogant or needing of validation) she held the little dish out towards her patient.
"Have some of this." She instructed. "It will help with the pain and you can use the bread and honey afterwards. It tastes like arse."
As Kreios passed them by, Neena offered a sweet smile that was beyond any awkwardness of a passing stranger. She almost appeared a perfectly content little wife, offering a friendly and pretty demeanour as her husband left to secure them breakfast. The illusion was immediately ruined, however, when she snagged the garment he threw at her with her left hand, speedy and accurate, with a strength and precision no little domestic spouse would be able to muster. She then leaned with severe nonchalance as she watched Lukos across the garden, giving Kreios a simple finger salute as he left, rolling her eyes at his determination that they should not kill each other or themselves.
Standing the doorway, Neena's eyes travelled over the pirate's form as he finished about his business and headed once more towards her and the building, sliding past her on the way back into the single room that seemed to consist of both bed chamber and living quarters. The fire from the night before had burnt out, but the sun was hot in Greece and there was no need for the hearth to be lit during the day. Instead, only the sunlight from outside, petering through the open window chasms caught the shape of each of them and brought them into light.
Neena's gaze was both approving and speculative. She assessed him as a healer and physician would... checking how the stitches in his side pulled but stayed put with his movements, how the skin around the incision was no longer blooming red as if there were bleeding beneath the surface... how the rest of his body was strong and muscled from working on the sea and would be able to benefit and support his abdomen as he moved. One of the main reasons patients regressed, in her experience, was that they were not healthy enough before the issue at hand. If they had the strength to compensate a failing part of their anatomy, they tended to heal faster.
By her assessing - though admittedly not the most experienced - eye, Lukos would, within a few days, be back to normal, his side simply delicate, and within a few weeks he would be scarring up nicely and be almost entirely himself once more.
His nudity was of no distraction to her. Unlike other women - especially delicate Greek types - who might turn their gaze away, shield their eyes or make a noise of protest at such a vulgar display of vanity, Neena did no such thing and simply watched him walk about with a strong, yet slightly unsteady step without shame or shyness.
Whilst the Bedoans were protective of their female nudity, they were not so much with their men. On top of which, growing up on a ship, Neena had spent days and weeks in the company of men who wore very little beneath the burning sun of the sea. Since she had left her husband and his wife back in Bedoa, Neena had explored her sexuality on a number of occasions, whenever she felt the desire to and had therefore been exposed to further debauchery without cost or consequence. Despite having only ever gone to bed with two individuals whom she could claim to love and be in a relationship with - Neena was far from a wilting flower of delicacy.
She was even brazen enough to openly admire the pirate's butt as he walked on by, her head on the tilt and her thick lips pursed in approving contemplation. She gave absolutely no signs of contrition when he turned to glance at her, catching her in the act. She simply moved her gaze to his face.
With a noise of disbelief rasping from between her lips, Neena smiled and shook her head, her teeth a bright white in her dark face.
"Hardly." She stated with an assurance that belied her previous teases about Kreios' sexual behavior to be pure fallacy. It wasn't as if she and Kreios held any particular relationship that would lead to special treatment. "I barely know the grump." She added, seeing no need to continue her jest from the day before.
She couldn't help but find his attitude to be entirely bewildering. He grumbled about the clothes offered. He grumbled about the food not having been laid out for him instead of her... Did nothing satisfy this man? And why on earth did each of these two want to spend their lives so intolerably depressed and negative. Internally, she rolled her eyes. The two were frickin' perfect for each other.
"Are you ever just grateful for anything?" She asked the man, her secret thoughts slipping from between her lips before she could stop them. She folded her arms, the tunic pushed into the curve of her elbow. Oh well... in for an obol, in for a drachmae. "You just constantly grumble. That's what I should call you two - Grumps and Grumble. The Downcast Duo." She shook her head as if in pity that the man couldn't just let go of whatever chip he had on his shoulder and enjoy life a little bit - especially given that he had just nearly lost his.
Moving over to the table a few feet away from where Lukos stood, Neena disposed of the tunic he clearly had no intention of wearing - far be it for her to insist him not to walk around naked - and quickly drew the pestle container that she had been working on the night before towards her. Within a few seconds, she had worked at the last of the herbs. The painkiller had been taken off of her hands by Kreios but she now set about finishing it, adding a little water from the wash bucket - no-one had cleaned themselves in it yet so it was fresh enough - and turning it into a watery sort of tea, with the tiniest bits of foliage floating in its shallow depths, the liquid itself tinged viridian. Turning without pomp or circumstance (for as much as she joked around, Neena was far from arrogant or needing of validation) she held the little dish out towards her patient.
"Have some of this." She instructed. "It will help with the pain and you can use the bread and honey afterwards. It tastes like arse."
He’d caught her look and arched an eyebrow in return. She was right; he was vain and he liked the attention, so he said nothing to dissuade her from appraising him to her heart’s content. Ideally he’d have liked to do the same. She had an exotic beauty and a brightness that he found interesting, if a little irritating when it was directed in the wrong direction. Like now, as she rolled her eyes and snarked at him. That took her appeal right back out the window.
"Are you ever just grateful for anything?" He glared at her but she continued, undaunted. "You just constantly grumble. That's what I should call you two - Grumps and Grumble. The Downcast Duo."
“Aren’t you clever? Worked out all there is to know about the two of us in a matter of hours.”
She moved closer to the table, casting the tunic on the bed. He’d put it on later, but he didn’t feel over much like doing anything Kreios wanted him to do. The stubborn spite that he harbored extended even to being naked. When enough time had passed, he would clothe himself because he wanted to and not because he was told to do so. Neena’s insistence that he be cheerful grated against him and he clenched his teeth, working his jaw in order to hang onto the semblance of calm he had. It almost seemed like she was intentionally needling him.
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t leap for joy after being stabbed and left for dead,” he said through his teeth. He couldn’t imagine a person alive who would be in a jovial mood while in this sort of pain after that sort of trauma. She was a lunatic. Or out of touch with reality. He guessed she’d never suffered any serious, life threatening wounds before. In treating them, she should have known that no one was at their best or most generous while in pain, him least of all.
In silence, he cut the bread silently divvying enough for the two of them but not actually offering her her portion. She appeared busy anyway. After he’d drizzled a generous portion of honey on his bread, he turned to watch her work. The sweetness of the honey soothed his mood and made the stale chewiness of the bread palatable. Leaning a hip on against the table, his gaze remained on the rhythmic way she ground and crushed the herbs against the side of the bowl, using the blunt pestle as though she’d done this thousands and thousands of times over. Which, she probably had.
He didn’t bat an eye when she took water from the wash bucket. His life on a ship had given him a different perspective on ‘sanitary’ than some others might have held who had the luxury of living in palaces. She mixed the herbs with the water and he tilted his head, realizing she was intending this for him. When he’d been watching her before, he hadn’t been considering why she was going back to the herbs. The alert, assessing, curious part of him was dormant for now, covered with the more asinine, hyper focused on himself part of his personality.
"Have some of this," she said when it was ready, holding out the dish for him. "It will help with the pain and you can use the bread and honey afterwards. It tastes like arse."
Her last comment made him smile in spite of himself, and for that reason alone, he was obedient. Setting down his half eaten bread and honey, he accepted the tea. Less paranoid than he had been last night, he drank it without complaint. Though he’d never put his tongue to someone’s back end, he imagined that she might be right. It held hints of earth and grass, and an overriding taste of what could only be described as ass. It was a fight to choke it down but he did, as fast as he could chug it, and set the bowl down hard on the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing a little, eyes watering.
“Hoo,” he grimaced, making a face and smacking his tongue. “I’ll die, thanks,” he coughed out the words, pounding a fist against his bare chest and then finally wiping his eyes. “That was uniquely horrible. Congratulations, I’ve never had worse.”
Blindly turning, he found his bread and honey by sticking his fingers straight into it, but this wasn’t a problem. He sucked on the ends of his fingers with relish, trying to get the awful taste out of his mouth by replacing it with something better. Even the bread was ambrosia, compared to what he’d just had. Still, even if it had been terrible, and even if he had no intention of drinking it again, he was interested to see if it would dull the pain.
“Where do you come from?” he asked, after a few seconds. Last night was hazy at best and he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d asked her and what she’d said. He knew Bedoa and he remembered her odd opinion about religion, but his question didn’t have anything to do with her lands, but more with her experience. “How do you know what you know?”
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Check out their information page here.
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He’d caught her look and arched an eyebrow in return. She was right; he was vain and he liked the attention, so he said nothing to dissuade her from appraising him to her heart’s content. Ideally he’d have liked to do the same. She had an exotic beauty and a brightness that he found interesting, if a little irritating when it was directed in the wrong direction. Like now, as she rolled her eyes and snarked at him. That took her appeal right back out the window.
"Are you ever just grateful for anything?" He glared at her but she continued, undaunted. "You just constantly grumble. That's what I should call you two - Grumps and Grumble. The Downcast Duo."
“Aren’t you clever? Worked out all there is to know about the two of us in a matter of hours.”
She moved closer to the table, casting the tunic on the bed. He’d put it on later, but he didn’t feel over much like doing anything Kreios wanted him to do. The stubborn spite that he harbored extended even to being naked. When enough time had passed, he would clothe himself because he wanted to and not because he was told to do so. Neena’s insistence that he be cheerful grated against him and he clenched his teeth, working his jaw in order to hang onto the semblance of calm he had. It almost seemed like she was intentionally needling him.
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t leap for joy after being stabbed and left for dead,” he said through his teeth. He couldn’t imagine a person alive who would be in a jovial mood while in this sort of pain after that sort of trauma. She was a lunatic. Or out of touch with reality. He guessed she’d never suffered any serious, life threatening wounds before. In treating them, she should have known that no one was at their best or most generous while in pain, him least of all.
In silence, he cut the bread silently divvying enough for the two of them but not actually offering her her portion. She appeared busy anyway. After he’d drizzled a generous portion of honey on his bread, he turned to watch her work. The sweetness of the honey soothed his mood and made the stale chewiness of the bread palatable. Leaning a hip on against the table, his gaze remained on the rhythmic way she ground and crushed the herbs against the side of the bowl, using the blunt pestle as though she’d done this thousands and thousands of times over. Which, she probably had.
He didn’t bat an eye when she took water from the wash bucket. His life on a ship had given him a different perspective on ‘sanitary’ than some others might have held who had the luxury of living in palaces. She mixed the herbs with the water and he tilted his head, realizing she was intending this for him. When he’d been watching her before, he hadn’t been considering why she was going back to the herbs. The alert, assessing, curious part of him was dormant for now, covered with the more asinine, hyper focused on himself part of his personality.
"Have some of this," she said when it was ready, holding out the dish for him. "It will help with the pain and you can use the bread and honey afterwards. It tastes like arse."
Her last comment made him smile in spite of himself, and for that reason alone, he was obedient. Setting down his half eaten bread and honey, he accepted the tea. Less paranoid than he had been last night, he drank it without complaint. Though he’d never put his tongue to someone’s back end, he imagined that she might be right. It held hints of earth and grass, and an overriding taste of what could only be described as ass. It was a fight to choke it down but he did, as fast as he could chug it, and set the bowl down hard on the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing a little, eyes watering.
“Hoo,” he grimaced, making a face and smacking his tongue. “I’ll die, thanks,” he coughed out the words, pounding a fist against his bare chest and then finally wiping his eyes. “That was uniquely horrible. Congratulations, I’ve never had worse.”
Blindly turning, he found his bread and honey by sticking his fingers straight into it, but this wasn’t a problem. He sucked on the ends of his fingers with relish, trying to get the awful taste out of his mouth by replacing it with something better. Even the bread was ambrosia, compared to what he’d just had. Still, even if it had been terrible, and even if he had no intention of drinking it again, he was interested to see if it would dull the pain.
“Where do you come from?” he asked, after a few seconds. Last night was hazy at best and he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d asked her and what she’d said. He knew Bedoa and he remembered her odd opinion about religion, but his question didn’t have anything to do with her lands, but more with her experience. “How do you know what you know?”
He’d caught her look and arched an eyebrow in return. She was right; he was vain and he liked the attention, so he said nothing to dissuade her from appraising him to her heart’s content. Ideally he’d have liked to do the same. She had an exotic beauty and a brightness that he found interesting, if a little irritating when it was directed in the wrong direction. Like now, as she rolled her eyes and snarked at him. That took her appeal right back out the window.
"Are you ever just grateful for anything?" He glared at her but she continued, undaunted. "You just constantly grumble. That's what I should call you two - Grumps and Grumble. The Downcast Duo."
“Aren’t you clever? Worked out all there is to know about the two of us in a matter of hours.”
She moved closer to the table, casting the tunic on the bed. He’d put it on later, but he didn’t feel over much like doing anything Kreios wanted him to do. The stubborn spite that he harbored extended even to being naked. When enough time had passed, he would clothe himself because he wanted to and not because he was told to do so. Neena’s insistence that he be cheerful grated against him and he clenched his teeth, working his jaw in order to hang onto the semblance of calm he had. It almost seemed like she was intentionally needling him.
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t leap for joy after being stabbed and left for dead,” he said through his teeth. He couldn’t imagine a person alive who would be in a jovial mood while in this sort of pain after that sort of trauma. She was a lunatic. Or out of touch with reality. He guessed she’d never suffered any serious, life threatening wounds before. In treating them, she should have known that no one was at their best or most generous while in pain, him least of all.
In silence, he cut the bread silently divvying enough for the two of them but not actually offering her her portion. She appeared busy anyway. After he’d drizzled a generous portion of honey on his bread, he turned to watch her work. The sweetness of the honey soothed his mood and made the stale chewiness of the bread palatable. Leaning a hip on against the table, his gaze remained on the rhythmic way she ground and crushed the herbs against the side of the bowl, using the blunt pestle as though she’d done this thousands and thousands of times over. Which, she probably had.
He didn’t bat an eye when she took water from the wash bucket. His life on a ship had given him a different perspective on ‘sanitary’ than some others might have held who had the luxury of living in palaces. She mixed the herbs with the water and he tilted his head, realizing she was intending this for him. When he’d been watching her before, he hadn’t been considering why she was going back to the herbs. The alert, assessing, curious part of him was dormant for now, covered with the more asinine, hyper focused on himself part of his personality.
"Have some of this," she said when it was ready, holding out the dish for him. "It will help with the pain and you can use the bread and honey afterwards. It tastes like arse."
Her last comment made him smile in spite of himself, and for that reason alone, he was obedient. Setting down his half eaten bread and honey, he accepted the tea. Less paranoid than he had been last night, he drank it without complaint. Though he’d never put his tongue to someone’s back end, he imagined that she might be right. It held hints of earth and grass, and an overriding taste of what could only be described as ass. It was a fight to choke it down but he did, as fast as he could chug it, and set the bowl down hard on the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing a little, eyes watering.
“Hoo,” he grimaced, making a face and smacking his tongue. “I’ll die, thanks,” he coughed out the words, pounding a fist against his bare chest and then finally wiping his eyes. “That was uniquely horrible. Congratulations, I’ve never had worse.”
Blindly turning, he found his bread and honey by sticking his fingers straight into it, but this wasn’t a problem. He sucked on the ends of his fingers with relish, trying to get the awful taste out of his mouth by replacing it with something better. Even the bread was ambrosia, compared to what he’d just had. Still, even if it had been terrible, and even if he had no intention of drinking it again, he was interested to see if it would dull the pain.
“Where do you come from?” he asked, after a few seconds. Last night was hazy at best and he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d asked her and what she’d said. He knew Bedoa and he remembered her odd opinion about religion, but his question didn’t have anything to do with her lands, but more with her experience. “How do you know what you know?”
Neena held no shame or awkwardness in her attentions, nor in the fact that Lukos clearly spotted her bestowing them. She only grinned in obvious confidence of her right to look and admire. As far as she was concerned, the gaze she had given him as he walked by was all compliment and far from insult. If he thought differently, he could just go whistle.
Neena was an easy compartmentaliser though, so any potential issues the two of them might have developed on a personal level thanks to her ogling his naked rear end, didn't stop her from putting together the painkiller she offered him. Personal and patient; entirely different connections that she would follow through in their own time and manner.
Deciding to ignore Lukos' comments about being stabbed and therefore being entitled to be grumpy, Neena simply rolled her eyes. When confronted as to her knowledge of the two men on such a short period of acquaintance, Neena only shrugged.
"You can't know everything about someone within so short a time, but you can get their natural essence." She assured him, with a considering tilt to her head. She snorted softly. "Don't tell me you haven't formed hard and fast opinions of me already. And I'm pretty sure most of them are true." She moved to sit upon the bed he had vacated and curled her legs into a crossed position beneath her, as he took the painkiller and was clearly eager to remove the taste with the snacks Kreios had offered. "But then I suppose that's because I don't play games and what you see is what you get." Her nose wrinkled in amusement. "I think you're probably the same. You don't strike me as the lying type."
Whether he took that as a compliment or not, she couldn't care less. It was a simple statement of fact. For while Lukos made no apologies for his grumpy attitude and negative outlook on life, he didn't seem to be faking it. Which was a character trait in his favour regardless. Perhaps it was bizarre for her to speak out on a belief of honesty for a pirate... but Neena called them as she saw them.
When he commented on the medicine being literally the worst thing he'd tasted, Neena grin grew broader. She shook her head, dismissive of his complaints.
"The worse the medicine tastes, the better it is." She insisted, flattering herself through his chastisement but not openly taking boastful credit for it.
When he changed the topic to ask about her, Neena's brows rose in surprise at his curiosity, but her expression was open and genuine as she answered...
"I'm from all over." She told him. "No idea as to parental heritage, though a mix has always been my best guess." She spoke of her lack of parents with blunt fact and total lack of emotion. "Then I just kept moving. I'm not master craftsman or talented expert, but I've learned a lot of different skills..." She gestured towards his still naked body, this time without a desirous element to her eyes. "The ways of a physician, I learnt in Bedoa..." Her gaze softened at the memory. "First on my own and then from a lover..."
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Neena held no shame or awkwardness in her attentions, nor in the fact that Lukos clearly spotted her bestowing them. She only grinned in obvious confidence of her right to look and admire. As far as she was concerned, the gaze she had given him as he walked by was all compliment and far from insult. If he thought differently, he could just go whistle.
Neena was an easy compartmentaliser though, so any potential issues the two of them might have developed on a personal level thanks to her ogling his naked rear end, didn't stop her from putting together the painkiller she offered him. Personal and patient; entirely different connections that she would follow through in their own time and manner.
Deciding to ignore Lukos' comments about being stabbed and therefore being entitled to be grumpy, Neena simply rolled her eyes. When confronted as to her knowledge of the two men on such a short period of acquaintance, Neena only shrugged.
"You can't know everything about someone within so short a time, but you can get their natural essence." She assured him, with a considering tilt to her head. She snorted softly. "Don't tell me you haven't formed hard and fast opinions of me already. And I'm pretty sure most of them are true." She moved to sit upon the bed he had vacated and curled her legs into a crossed position beneath her, as he took the painkiller and was clearly eager to remove the taste with the snacks Kreios had offered. "But then I suppose that's because I don't play games and what you see is what you get." Her nose wrinkled in amusement. "I think you're probably the same. You don't strike me as the lying type."
Whether he took that as a compliment or not, she couldn't care less. It was a simple statement of fact. For while Lukos made no apologies for his grumpy attitude and negative outlook on life, he didn't seem to be faking it. Which was a character trait in his favour regardless. Perhaps it was bizarre for her to speak out on a belief of honesty for a pirate... but Neena called them as she saw them.
When he commented on the medicine being literally the worst thing he'd tasted, Neena grin grew broader. She shook her head, dismissive of his complaints.
"The worse the medicine tastes, the better it is." She insisted, flattering herself through his chastisement but not openly taking boastful credit for it.
When he changed the topic to ask about her, Neena's brows rose in surprise at his curiosity, but her expression was open and genuine as she answered...
"I'm from all over." She told him. "No idea as to parental heritage, though a mix has always been my best guess." She spoke of her lack of parents with blunt fact and total lack of emotion. "Then I just kept moving. I'm not master craftsman or talented expert, but I've learned a lot of different skills..." She gestured towards his still naked body, this time without a desirous element to her eyes. "The ways of a physician, I learnt in Bedoa..." Her gaze softened at the memory. "First on my own and then from a lover..."
Neena held no shame or awkwardness in her attentions, nor in the fact that Lukos clearly spotted her bestowing them. She only grinned in obvious confidence of her right to look and admire. As far as she was concerned, the gaze she had given him as he walked by was all compliment and far from insult. If he thought differently, he could just go whistle.
Neena was an easy compartmentaliser though, so any potential issues the two of them might have developed on a personal level thanks to her ogling his naked rear end, didn't stop her from putting together the painkiller she offered him. Personal and patient; entirely different connections that she would follow through in their own time and manner.
Deciding to ignore Lukos' comments about being stabbed and therefore being entitled to be grumpy, Neena simply rolled her eyes. When confronted as to her knowledge of the two men on such a short period of acquaintance, Neena only shrugged.
"You can't know everything about someone within so short a time, but you can get their natural essence." She assured him, with a considering tilt to her head. She snorted softly. "Don't tell me you haven't formed hard and fast opinions of me already. And I'm pretty sure most of them are true." She moved to sit upon the bed he had vacated and curled her legs into a crossed position beneath her, as he took the painkiller and was clearly eager to remove the taste with the snacks Kreios had offered. "But then I suppose that's because I don't play games and what you see is what you get." Her nose wrinkled in amusement. "I think you're probably the same. You don't strike me as the lying type."
Whether he took that as a compliment or not, she couldn't care less. It was a simple statement of fact. For while Lukos made no apologies for his grumpy attitude and negative outlook on life, he didn't seem to be faking it. Which was a character trait in his favour regardless. Perhaps it was bizarre for her to speak out on a belief of honesty for a pirate... but Neena called them as she saw them.
When he commented on the medicine being literally the worst thing he'd tasted, Neena grin grew broader. She shook her head, dismissive of his complaints.
"The worse the medicine tastes, the better it is." She insisted, flattering herself through his chastisement but not openly taking boastful credit for it.
When he changed the topic to ask about her, Neena's brows rose in surprise at his curiosity, but her expression was open and genuine as she answered...
"I'm from all over." She told him. "No idea as to parental heritage, though a mix has always been my best guess." She spoke of her lack of parents with blunt fact and total lack of emotion. "Then I just kept moving. I'm not master craftsman or talented expert, but I've learned a lot of different skills..." She gestured towards his still naked body, this time without a desirous element to her eyes. "The ways of a physician, I learnt in Bedoa..." Her gaze softened at the memory. "First on my own and then from a lover..."
Neena was not the strangest person he’d ever spoken to, but she was up there. He didn’t know she’d misconstrued his interest in where she’d learned her knowledge to an interest in her as a person, but when her face softened at the mention of a lover, he realized that’s what had happened. As much as he wanted to be horrible and break it to her that he didn’t give three sheets about her feelings, he opted not to. It was better to keep on the good side of his little healer than to intentionally tick her off. Kreios had already made abundantly clear that he was fucking useless with wounds, despite knowing so much about plants. Lukos was taking this a bit personally. Of all his opinions about Kreios, not one of them had previously been that the man was stupid and he still didn’t think he was. Intentionally dense? Maybe. But the capability was there. He decided that Kreios was not tending to him on the grounds of hatred, which was fair.
Now that enough time had elapsed, Lukos decided to dress. No one was telling him to and his choice was completely independent of their wish for him to do so. Was it petty? Yes. But he had very little control over anything at the moment and so was exercising his right through whether or not he’d dress. If he’d been well enough, he wouldn’t dress at all and would have attempted to sweet talk Neena out of her clothes as well, but he didn’t feel like it. The pain was still there, but dulled now, and ignorable.
“Parents are overrated,” he said as he slid the clothes, the fabric muffling his voice for the length of time it took to get his face free. The chiton bunched on his shoulders and he fought with it for a moment. This was not his usual garment and there was so much of it, and once he’d gotten it on, it fell straight to his waist because the clasp that was pinned to it weighed a portion of it down. Lukos caught it with a sigh and affixed the clasps on both shoulders, finally dressed.
“I haven’t had mine since I was a child and I’ve turned out just fine. All that coddling makes people weak. They need the love and affection that they constantly had access to. If you take that away, you find you can get on well enough without it. It’s more of a hindrance than an asset, in my opinion, and as I’m sure you found out.” If she had moved around as much as she said she did, he very much doubted that she had a very steady family life, or really any family to speak of.
Her former lover, he did not ask about because he did not care. “Come sit with me,” he said and walked out of the room and opened the front door. The sun, brilliant and blazing, felt good on his skin and he eased himself down to await Kreios’s return. Even the stones leading up to the front door were warm and soothing to sit on. He leaned his head back on the wall, tipping his face up to catch the light and wait for Kreios to return with real food.
Wind drifted through the forest of plants behind the house, bringing round the scents of juniper, myrtle, mint, fennel, and rosemary. There were other aromas on the air, but none that he could put a name to. Above those, he could detect the salt of the Aegean and that was the more comforting of the smells. Once Neena opened the door to join him, he opened his eyes and glanced up at her.
“Your boyfriend is taking forever with food.”
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Neena was not the strangest person he’d ever spoken to, but she was up there. He didn’t know she’d misconstrued his interest in where she’d learned her knowledge to an interest in her as a person, but when her face softened at the mention of a lover, he realized that’s what had happened. As much as he wanted to be horrible and break it to her that he didn’t give three sheets about her feelings, he opted not to. It was better to keep on the good side of his little healer than to intentionally tick her off. Kreios had already made abundantly clear that he was fucking useless with wounds, despite knowing so much about plants. Lukos was taking this a bit personally. Of all his opinions about Kreios, not one of them had previously been that the man was stupid and he still didn’t think he was. Intentionally dense? Maybe. But the capability was there. He decided that Kreios was not tending to him on the grounds of hatred, which was fair.
Now that enough time had elapsed, Lukos decided to dress. No one was telling him to and his choice was completely independent of their wish for him to do so. Was it petty? Yes. But he had very little control over anything at the moment and so was exercising his right through whether or not he’d dress. If he’d been well enough, he wouldn’t dress at all and would have attempted to sweet talk Neena out of her clothes as well, but he didn’t feel like it. The pain was still there, but dulled now, and ignorable.
“Parents are overrated,” he said as he slid the clothes, the fabric muffling his voice for the length of time it took to get his face free. The chiton bunched on his shoulders and he fought with it for a moment. This was not his usual garment and there was so much of it, and once he’d gotten it on, it fell straight to his waist because the clasp that was pinned to it weighed a portion of it down. Lukos caught it with a sigh and affixed the clasps on both shoulders, finally dressed.
“I haven’t had mine since I was a child and I’ve turned out just fine. All that coddling makes people weak. They need the love and affection that they constantly had access to. If you take that away, you find you can get on well enough without it. It’s more of a hindrance than an asset, in my opinion, and as I’m sure you found out.” If she had moved around as much as she said she did, he very much doubted that she had a very steady family life, or really any family to speak of.
Her former lover, he did not ask about because he did not care. “Come sit with me,” he said and walked out of the room and opened the front door. The sun, brilliant and blazing, felt good on his skin and he eased himself down to await Kreios’s return. Even the stones leading up to the front door were warm and soothing to sit on. He leaned his head back on the wall, tipping his face up to catch the light and wait for Kreios to return with real food.
Wind drifted through the forest of plants behind the house, bringing round the scents of juniper, myrtle, mint, fennel, and rosemary. There were other aromas on the air, but none that he could put a name to. Above those, he could detect the salt of the Aegean and that was the more comforting of the smells. Once Neena opened the door to join him, he opened his eyes and glanced up at her.
“Your boyfriend is taking forever with food.”
Neena was not the strangest person he’d ever spoken to, but she was up there. He didn’t know she’d misconstrued his interest in where she’d learned her knowledge to an interest in her as a person, but when her face softened at the mention of a lover, he realized that’s what had happened. As much as he wanted to be horrible and break it to her that he didn’t give three sheets about her feelings, he opted not to. It was better to keep on the good side of his little healer than to intentionally tick her off. Kreios had already made abundantly clear that he was fucking useless with wounds, despite knowing so much about plants. Lukos was taking this a bit personally. Of all his opinions about Kreios, not one of them had previously been that the man was stupid and he still didn’t think he was. Intentionally dense? Maybe. But the capability was there. He decided that Kreios was not tending to him on the grounds of hatred, which was fair.
Now that enough time had elapsed, Lukos decided to dress. No one was telling him to and his choice was completely independent of their wish for him to do so. Was it petty? Yes. But he had very little control over anything at the moment and so was exercising his right through whether or not he’d dress. If he’d been well enough, he wouldn’t dress at all and would have attempted to sweet talk Neena out of her clothes as well, but he didn’t feel like it. The pain was still there, but dulled now, and ignorable.
“Parents are overrated,” he said as he slid the clothes, the fabric muffling his voice for the length of time it took to get his face free. The chiton bunched on his shoulders and he fought with it for a moment. This was not his usual garment and there was so much of it, and once he’d gotten it on, it fell straight to his waist because the clasp that was pinned to it weighed a portion of it down. Lukos caught it with a sigh and affixed the clasps on both shoulders, finally dressed.
“I haven’t had mine since I was a child and I’ve turned out just fine. All that coddling makes people weak. They need the love and affection that they constantly had access to. If you take that away, you find you can get on well enough without it. It’s more of a hindrance than an asset, in my opinion, and as I’m sure you found out.” If she had moved around as much as she said she did, he very much doubted that she had a very steady family life, or really any family to speak of.
Her former lover, he did not ask about because he did not care. “Come sit with me,” he said and walked out of the room and opened the front door. The sun, brilliant and blazing, felt good on his skin and he eased himself down to await Kreios’s return. Even the stones leading up to the front door were warm and soothing to sit on. He leaned his head back on the wall, tipping his face up to catch the light and wait for Kreios to return with real food.
Wind drifted through the forest of plants behind the house, bringing round the scents of juniper, myrtle, mint, fennel, and rosemary. There were other aromas on the air, but none that he could put a name to. Above those, he could detect the salt of the Aegean and that was the more comforting of the smells. Once Neena opened the door to join him, he opened his eyes and glanced up at her.
“Your boyfriend is taking forever with food.”
Had Neena known that her interpretation of Lukos' questions as interest in her and her life was entirely erroneous, she wouldn't have cared. As far as she was concerned, life was better when you thought the best in others; optimism, where right made you less worried about falsities and where it was wrong you were given the peace of ignorance and false hope. And Neena had no problem with that, whatsoever. It made life so much happier.
When Lukos commented on how parents were overrated, Neena's head cocked to one side and her smile was genuine but small. She thought the man begrudgingly sweet for attempting to make her feel better over her lack of parents but at the same time didn't entirely agree with him that they were unnecessary. Neena thought it important that children grew up in the safety of the familial setting. That they were told that they were loved. The problem was most parents (as far as she could tell) weren't very good. They would twist their child's future to be what they wanted, encourage their kids to be successful, thereby giving them parameters upon which they could measure themselves as unsuccessful. The way that she had seen so many people grow had been to judge whether or not they were worthy.
A true parent should have their kid believing themselves to be abundantly worthy by the time they were adult enough to leave home.
Clearly, Lukos had never had that.
Her heart went out to the man who had had what should be a necessity of life and yet rejected its significant so vehemently. It was obvious that his childhood had not been a happy one and Neena felt for the guy. In order to try and lighten the mood away from something so personal, Neena took the opportunity to crack a joke when he affirmed that he hadn't had a decent parental upbringing for most of his life and he had turned out just fine.
"Sure." She agreed with him, a little too easily, and stretching out the vowel in a tone of suspicion. "Your life is going swimmingly. That's why someone ran you through and left you for dead in the ocean." She gave the guy two thumbs up.
Not surprised when she ignored his jab and turned to the clothes that were on offer, Neena did nothing to help him as he dressed - for she had found it a common reality that men did not like to seem helpless and be aided unless asked (which they rarely did) and preferred to struggle alone. She, instead, put away the bits and pieces of the pain medicine she had concocted and tidied up the bed, folding the blankets a little messily but at least with a sense of consideration for their host that Lukos was clearly entirely without.
When she was told to come sit with him, Neena smiled brightly at the invitation of potential friendship and headed out of the room after him, stopping only long enough to locate her little thong sandals and slip them onto her feet.
Taking a wrong turn in Kreios' little house had her a few minutes behind Lukos and only exiting the building after he had already sat down and settled in to enjoy the sunshine. Neena plopped herself down next to him with a force that jostled the bench as she crossed her legs at the ankles, folded her arms across her chest and settled in to appreciate the daylight with him. The sun was warm on her bare arms and legs and Neena smiled as she closed her eyes.
"He's not my boyfriend." She told the man without looking his way - just enjoying the play of sunshine creating patterns through her eyelids. "If he were, I would have him trained better than this by now."
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Had Neena known that her interpretation of Lukos' questions as interest in her and her life was entirely erroneous, she wouldn't have cared. As far as she was concerned, life was better when you thought the best in others; optimism, where right made you less worried about falsities and where it was wrong you were given the peace of ignorance and false hope. And Neena had no problem with that, whatsoever. It made life so much happier.
When Lukos commented on how parents were overrated, Neena's head cocked to one side and her smile was genuine but small. She thought the man begrudgingly sweet for attempting to make her feel better over her lack of parents but at the same time didn't entirely agree with him that they were unnecessary. Neena thought it important that children grew up in the safety of the familial setting. That they were told that they were loved. The problem was most parents (as far as she could tell) weren't very good. They would twist their child's future to be what they wanted, encourage their kids to be successful, thereby giving them parameters upon which they could measure themselves as unsuccessful. The way that she had seen so many people grow had been to judge whether or not they were worthy.
A true parent should have their kid believing themselves to be abundantly worthy by the time they were adult enough to leave home.
Clearly, Lukos had never had that.
Her heart went out to the man who had had what should be a necessity of life and yet rejected its significant so vehemently. It was obvious that his childhood had not been a happy one and Neena felt for the guy. In order to try and lighten the mood away from something so personal, Neena took the opportunity to crack a joke when he affirmed that he hadn't had a decent parental upbringing for most of his life and he had turned out just fine.
"Sure." She agreed with him, a little too easily, and stretching out the vowel in a tone of suspicion. "Your life is going swimmingly. That's why someone ran you through and left you for dead in the ocean." She gave the guy two thumbs up.
Not surprised when she ignored his jab and turned to the clothes that were on offer, Neena did nothing to help him as he dressed - for she had found it a common reality that men did not like to seem helpless and be aided unless asked (which they rarely did) and preferred to struggle alone. She, instead, put away the bits and pieces of the pain medicine she had concocted and tidied up the bed, folding the blankets a little messily but at least with a sense of consideration for their host that Lukos was clearly entirely without.
When she was told to come sit with him, Neena smiled brightly at the invitation of potential friendship and headed out of the room after him, stopping only long enough to locate her little thong sandals and slip them onto her feet.
Taking a wrong turn in Kreios' little house had her a few minutes behind Lukos and only exiting the building after he had already sat down and settled in to enjoy the sunshine. Neena plopped herself down next to him with a force that jostled the bench as she crossed her legs at the ankles, folded her arms across her chest and settled in to appreciate the daylight with him. The sun was warm on her bare arms and legs and Neena smiled as she closed her eyes.
"He's not my boyfriend." She told the man without looking his way - just enjoying the play of sunshine creating patterns through her eyelids. "If he were, I would have him trained better than this by now."
Had Neena known that her interpretation of Lukos' questions as interest in her and her life was entirely erroneous, she wouldn't have cared. As far as she was concerned, life was better when you thought the best in others; optimism, where right made you less worried about falsities and where it was wrong you were given the peace of ignorance and false hope. And Neena had no problem with that, whatsoever. It made life so much happier.
When Lukos commented on how parents were overrated, Neena's head cocked to one side and her smile was genuine but small. She thought the man begrudgingly sweet for attempting to make her feel better over her lack of parents but at the same time didn't entirely agree with him that they were unnecessary. Neena thought it important that children grew up in the safety of the familial setting. That they were told that they were loved. The problem was most parents (as far as she could tell) weren't very good. They would twist their child's future to be what they wanted, encourage their kids to be successful, thereby giving them parameters upon which they could measure themselves as unsuccessful. The way that she had seen so many people grow had been to judge whether or not they were worthy.
A true parent should have their kid believing themselves to be abundantly worthy by the time they were adult enough to leave home.
Clearly, Lukos had never had that.
Her heart went out to the man who had had what should be a necessity of life and yet rejected its significant so vehemently. It was obvious that his childhood had not been a happy one and Neena felt for the guy. In order to try and lighten the mood away from something so personal, Neena took the opportunity to crack a joke when he affirmed that he hadn't had a decent parental upbringing for most of his life and he had turned out just fine.
"Sure." She agreed with him, a little too easily, and stretching out the vowel in a tone of suspicion. "Your life is going swimmingly. That's why someone ran you through and left you for dead in the ocean." She gave the guy two thumbs up.
Not surprised when she ignored his jab and turned to the clothes that were on offer, Neena did nothing to help him as he dressed - for she had found it a common reality that men did not like to seem helpless and be aided unless asked (which they rarely did) and preferred to struggle alone. She, instead, put away the bits and pieces of the pain medicine she had concocted and tidied up the bed, folding the blankets a little messily but at least with a sense of consideration for their host that Lukos was clearly entirely without.
When she was told to come sit with him, Neena smiled brightly at the invitation of potential friendship and headed out of the room after him, stopping only long enough to locate her little thong sandals and slip them onto her feet.
Taking a wrong turn in Kreios' little house had her a few minutes behind Lukos and only exiting the building after he had already sat down and settled in to enjoy the sunshine. Neena plopped herself down next to him with a force that jostled the bench as she crossed her legs at the ankles, folded her arms across her chest and settled in to appreciate the daylight with him. The sun was warm on her bare arms and legs and Neena smiled as she closed her eyes.
"He's not my boyfriend." She told the man without looking his way - just enjoying the play of sunshine creating patterns through her eyelids. "If he were, I would have him trained better than this by now."
The market was as it always was; noisy, packed with people who were talking over each other to try and get the best deals, animals whose smells made his nose wrinkle, and just the general populace and reasons why the man usually avoided the markets. He usually would send his cabin boys to buy what he needed, and on board the ship, the men he hired took care of everything. Kreios was not a tyrant as to make them work at all day and all hours however, so the man had given them the next week off - which also meant he had to find ways to feed himself.
In hindsight, had he known he would be getting two... occupants in his living quarters now, he would've asked for Descat to stock up his larder and pantry with enough food for three, but with the boy now off, and Kreios being a fair enough master to not retarct his words, he was left on his own.
Kreios had money in abundance, so the man did not bother haggling as many of the people in Vasiliadon did. Instead, he simply tossed the coins as asked for by the vendors as he picked up what he needed - bread, wine, cheeses, fruits, fresh vegetbales, some olives and milk, and even fish wrapped up in wax paper if he wished to cook.
By the time he was done, the crate he carried was full, and the sun in full force as he made his way back to the small hut. Internally, the dark haired merchant hoped Neena has managed to subdue the pirate somehow but he did not hold out much hope. The man was as insufferable as he was stubborn, and if it wasn't because of his own values as a human being, he would've left him to drown.
But he didn't, and here they all were.
Entering, Kreios arrived just in time to hear Neena's last flippant comment, and froze at the doorway, and arched his eyebrows at both of them, before he let the small gate swing shut behind him. "Don't test me, or I'll feed all I've bought to the goats." he muttered, rolling his eyes at them. "I see you finally have mercy on our eyes." the man flippantly commented to Lukos, as he entered the house and placed the crate of food on it with a loud scrape against the wood." Neena, I assume you know how to make fish edible - there's a few in there. Do something with it." Kreios muttered, before he moved to the back end of the house and surveyed the jars he kept there. Some highly poisonous, others just enough to give someone the runs. Kreios was back to restock his merchant ship after all, and some of his powders needed refilling. "Do you feel like death still, pirate? I can offer one of these." the spark in Kreios's eyes as he waved one of the sealed jars at Lukos was anything but kindly, obvious that he assumed Lukos would not want it. Kreios was not feeling all too kindly to the pirate, and while that was a normal occurrence, now even more so then other times, only due to his choice of conversational topic with Neena.
The idea of a boyfriend was laughable, especially when the man in question was him. But even as the words marinated in his mind, Kreios couldn't help his eyes from flickering to Neena for a brief moment, before back to the jars he observed, even if his attention was now shaken. The girl was... interesting.
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The market was as it always was; noisy, packed with people who were talking over each other to try and get the best deals, animals whose smells made his nose wrinkle, and just the general populace and reasons why the man usually avoided the markets. He usually would send his cabin boys to buy what he needed, and on board the ship, the men he hired took care of everything. Kreios was not a tyrant as to make them work at all day and all hours however, so the man had given them the next week off - which also meant he had to find ways to feed himself.
In hindsight, had he known he would be getting two... occupants in his living quarters now, he would've asked for Descat to stock up his larder and pantry with enough food for three, but with the boy now off, and Kreios being a fair enough master to not retarct his words, he was left on his own.
Kreios had money in abundance, so the man did not bother haggling as many of the people in Vasiliadon did. Instead, he simply tossed the coins as asked for by the vendors as he picked up what he needed - bread, wine, cheeses, fruits, fresh vegetbales, some olives and milk, and even fish wrapped up in wax paper if he wished to cook.
By the time he was done, the crate he carried was full, and the sun in full force as he made his way back to the small hut. Internally, the dark haired merchant hoped Neena has managed to subdue the pirate somehow but he did not hold out much hope. The man was as insufferable as he was stubborn, and if it wasn't because of his own values as a human being, he would've left him to drown.
But he didn't, and here they all were.
Entering, Kreios arrived just in time to hear Neena's last flippant comment, and froze at the doorway, and arched his eyebrows at both of them, before he let the small gate swing shut behind him. "Don't test me, or I'll feed all I've bought to the goats." he muttered, rolling his eyes at them. "I see you finally have mercy on our eyes." the man flippantly commented to Lukos, as he entered the house and placed the crate of food on it with a loud scrape against the wood." Neena, I assume you know how to make fish edible - there's a few in there. Do something with it." Kreios muttered, before he moved to the back end of the house and surveyed the jars he kept there. Some highly poisonous, others just enough to give someone the runs. Kreios was back to restock his merchant ship after all, and some of his powders needed refilling. "Do you feel like death still, pirate? I can offer one of these." the spark in Kreios's eyes as he waved one of the sealed jars at Lukos was anything but kindly, obvious that he assumed Lukos would not want it. Kreios was not feeling all too kindly to the pirate, and while that was a normal occurrence, now even more so then other times, only due to his choice of conversational topic with Neena.
The idea of a boyfriend was laughable, especially when the man in question was him. But even as the words marinated in his mind, Kreios couldn't help his eyes from flickering to Neena for a brief moment, before back to the jars he observed, even if his attention was now shaken. The girl was... interesting.
The market was as it always was; noisy, packed with people who were talking over each other to try and get the best deals, animals whose smells made his nose wrinkle, and just the general populace and reasons why the man usually avoided the markets. He usually would send his cabin boys to buy what he needed, and on board the ship, the men he hired took care of everything. Kreios was not a tyrant as to make them work at all day and all hours however, so the man had given them the next week off - which also meant he had to find ways to feed himself.
In hindsight, had he known he would be getting two... occupants in his living quarters now, he would've asked for Descat to stock up his larder and pantry with enough food for three, but with the boy now off, and Kreios being a fair enough master to not retarct his words, he was left on his own.
Kreios had money in abundance, so the man did not bother haggling as many of the people in Vasiliadon did. Instead, he simply tossed the coins as asked for by the vendors as he picked up what he needed - bread, wine, cheeses, fruits, fresh vegetbales, some olives and milk, and even fish wrapped up in wax paper if he wished to cook.
By the time he was done, the crate he carried was full, and the sun in full force as he made his way back to the small hut. Internally, the dark haired merchant hoped Neena has managed to subdue the pirate somehow but he did not hold out much hope. The man was as insufferable as he was stubborn, and if it wasn't because of his own values as a human being, he would've left him to drown.
But he didn't, and here they all were.
Entering, Kreios arrived just in time to hear Neena's last flippant comment, and froze at the doorway, and arched his eyebrows at both of them, before he let the small gate swing shut behind him. "Don't test me, or I'll feed all I've bought to the goats." he muttered, rolling his eyes at them. "I see you finally have mercy on our eyes." the man flippantly commented to Lukos, as he entered the house and placed the crate of food on it with a loud scrape against the wood." Neena, I assume you know how to make fish edible - there's a few in there. Do something with it." Kreios muttered, before he moved to the back end of the house and surveyed the jars he kept there. Some highly poisonous, others just enough to give someone the runs. Kreios was back to restock his merchant ship after all, and some of his powders needed refilling. "Do you feel like death still, pirate? I can offer one of these." the spark in Kreios's eyes as he waved one of the sealed jars at Lukos was anything but kindly, obvious that he assumed Lukos would not want it. Kreios was not feeling all too kindly to the pirate, and while that was a normal occurrence, now even more so then other times, only due to his choice of conversational topic with Neena.
The idea of a boyfriend was laughable, especially when the man in question was him. But even as the words marinated in his mind, Kreios couldn't help his eyes from flickering to Neena for a brief moment, before back to the jars he observed, even if his attention was now shaken. The girl was... interesting.
Neena winced against the sunshine and raised a hand to lay along her brow to shield her eyes from its harshness when she saw a figure approaching the little yard that was currently ruled by the animals. Recognising the gait and frame of the visitor, she knew him quickly to be no visitor at all in fact, by the owner of the house. Re-crossing her ankles and shimmying in her seat to show how very comfortable she was, Neena folded her arms across her chest and grinned at the Grumps' return.
"I tend to your patient, clean up your mess and then get threatened with my breakfast going to the goats." She shook her head disparagingly. "I've met slave drivers with more compassion than you." Her tone was jovial, never once hinting that her experience with such men were in regards to herself in the position of the slave.
When Kreios continued to be uncaring and stepped inside in order to set down his crate of food, Neena stood and followed him in, but more through curiosity and an open boredom than any sign of loyalty or affection. When Kreios moved to inspect his medicine jars, Neena leaned forward to peer into his crate. There were a handful of basic necessities like bread and the soft cheese she knew to be famous in Greece. There was also the smell of fresh fish which was very, very muted which meant it was incredibly fresh.
When Kreios commented about her knowing how to cook aquatic meat, Neena glanced at him with an eyebrow raised. Was he asking her to cook it because he trusted her not to poison him (rare for a poisoner) or was he simply instructing her to complete her domestic duties as a woman?
Neena had never had an issue with the females of the world assigned to the culinary and child-rearing elements of life. Those positions in the world were significant, important and fit the specialisms of females far better than the physical exertion of earning a trade.
And yet... Neena had never much taken to them. A freak by nature, she had never existed to look after others, even in her role as a wife, for there had been another to perform such tasks.
As such, Neena only laughed at Kreios' request for her to cook the fish.
"Not likely." She told him, in answer to whether she could make the fish edible. "I am a woman of many talents but cooking is not one of them."
She reached into the crate and pulled out a fresh pear, checked its skin for any blemishes and then tossed it lightly upon her palm.
"I'll just have this, thanks." She grinned broadly, allowing him to owe her food for both her original payment in the form of a pink diamond and her services in helping him look after the invalid he hadn't wanted.
Turning on her heel and heading back towards the door as if she couldn't give the poison-peddler two more thoughts, she called over her shoulder only once to explain her absence.
"I'm heading into the city to check it out." She called through the hut, content with her single piece of fruit for breakfast. She then headed immediately off, dancing around the goats and heading for the gate.
Waving a hand above her head without looking back, she simply called out, before hopping the gate and fence. And then she was gone, headed off at a quick and energetic pace down the street, her last lilting and teasing words hanging in the air of Kreios' yard:
"Don't kill each other whilst I'm gone!"
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Neena winced against the sunshine and raised a hand to lay along her brow to shield her eyes from its harshness when she saw a figure approaching the little yard that was currently ruled by the animals. Recognising the gait and frame of the visitor, she knew him quickly to be no visitor at all in fact, by the owner of the house. Re-crossing her ankles and shimmying in her seat to show how very comfortable she was, Neena folded her arms across her chest and grinned at the Grumps' return.
"I tend to your patient, clean up your mess and then get threatened with my breakfast going to the goats." She shook her head disparagingly. "I've met slave drivers with more compassion than you." Her tone was jovial, never once hinting that her experience with such men were in regards to herself in the position of the slave.
When Kreios continued to be uncaring and stepped inside in order to set down his crate of food, Neena stood and followed him in, but more through curiosity and an open boredom than any sign of loyalty or affection. When Kreios moved to inspect his medicine jars, Neena leaned forward to peer into his crate. There were a handful of basic necessities like bread and the soft cheese she knew to be famous in Greece. There was also the smell of fresh fish which was very, very muted which meant it was incredibly fresh.
When Kreios commented about her knowing how to cook aquatic meat, Neena glanced at him with an eyebrow raised. Was he asking her to cook it because he trusted her not to poison him (rare for a poisoner) or was he simply instructing her to complete her domestic duties as a woman?
Neena had never had an issue with the females of the world assigned to the culinary and child-rearing elements of life. Those positions in the world were significant, important and fit the specialisms of females far better than the physical exertion of earning a trade.
And yet... Neena had never much taken to them. A freak by nature, she had never existed to look after others, even in her role as a wife, for there had been another to perform such tasks.
As such, Neena only laughed at Kreios' request for her to cook the fish.
"Not likely." She told him, in answer to whether she could make the fish edible. "I am a woman of many talents but cooking is not one of them."
She reached into the crate and pulled out a fresh pear, checked its skin for any blemishes and then tossed it lightly upon her palm.
"I'll just have this, thanks." She grinned broadly, allowing him to owe her food for both her original payment in the form of a pink diamond and her services in helping him look after the invalid he hadn't wanted.
Turning on her heel and heading back towards the door as if she couldn't give the poison-peddler two more thoughts, she called over her shoulder only once to explain her absence.
"I'm heading into the city to check it out." She called through the hut, content with her single piece of fruit for breakfast. She then headed immediately off, dancing around the goats and heading for the gate.
Waving a hand above her head without looking back, she simply called out, before hopping the gate and fence. And then she was gone, headed off at a quick and energetic pace down the street, her last lilting and teasing words hanging in the air of Kreios' yard:
"Don't kill each other whilst I'm gone!"
Neena winced against the sunshine and raised a hand to lay along her brow to shield her eyes from its harshness when she saw a figure approaching the little yard that was currently ruled by the animals. Recognising the gait and frame of the visitor, she knew him quickly to be no visitor at all in fact, by the owner of the house. Re-crossing her ankles and shimmying in her seat to show how very comfortable she was, Neena folded her arms across her chest and grinned at the Grumps' return.
"I tend to your patient, clean up your mess and then get threatened with my breakfast going to the goats." She shook her head disparagingly. "I've met slave drivers with more compassion than you." Her tone was jovial, never once hinting that her experience with such men were in regards to herself in the position of the slave.
When Kreios continued to be uncaring and stepped inside in order to set down his crate of food, Neena stood and followed him in, but more through curiosity and an open boredom than any sign of loyalty or affection. When Kreios moved to inspect his medicine jars, Neena leaned forward to peer into his crate. There were a handful of basic necessities like bread and the soft cheese she knew to be famous in Greece. There was also the smell of fresh fish which was very, very muted which meant it was incredibly fresh.
When Kreios commented about her knowing how to cook aquatic meat, Neena glanced at him with an eyebrow raised. Was he asking her to cook it because he trusted her not to poison him (rare for a poisoner) or was he simply instructing her to complete her domestic duties as a woman?
Neena had never had an issue with the females of the world assigned to the culinary and child-rearing elements of life. Those positions in the world were significant, important and fit the specialisms of females far better than the physical exertion of earning a trade.
And yet... Neena had never much taken to them. A freak by nature, she had never existed to look after others, even in her role as a wife, for there had been another to perform such tasks.
As such, Neena only laughed at Kreios' request for her to cook the fish.
"Not likely." She told him, in answer to whether she could make the fish edible. "I am a woman of many talents but cooking is not one of them."
She reached into the crate and pulled out a fresh pear, checked its skin for any blemishes and then tossed it lightly upon her palm.
"I'll just have this, thanks." She grinned broadly, allowing him to owe her food for both her original payment in the form of a pink diamond and her services in helping him look after the invalid he hadn't wanted.
Turning on her heel and heading back towards the door as if she couldn't give the poison-peddler two more thoughts, she called over her shoulder only once to explain her absence.
"I'm heading into the city to check it out." She called through the hut, content with her single piece of fruit for breakfast. She then headed immediately off, dancing around the goats and heading for the gate.
Waving a hand above her head without looking back, she simply called out, before hopping the gate and fence. And then she was gone, headed off at a quick and energetic pace down the street, her last lilting and teasing words hanging in the air of Kreios' yard:
"Don't kill each other whilst I'm gone!"
Lukos had let his head tilt toward Neena, and laughed at her comment. His laughter did not end when Kreios griped at the two of them. He laughed harder because the man’s thunderous expression was so dour and dark that he seemed to suck the light of the sun straight out of the sky to crush it with his personality. All Lukos could say to that was, “There’s goats?” The animals had been amazingly quiet up to now and that, in and of itself, was mildly impressive.
”I see you finally have mercy on our eyes,” Kreios griped at him and Lukos glanced down at his clothes, pulling at them.
“I’ve heard if you get used to something, you learn to like it,” Lukos snarked back. “Should we test that?” But Kreios was already through the door and Lukos shot a look at Neena, who was busy defending (he assumed) the two of them, before working his way back up to standing through sheer willpower alone. He was panting by the end and starting to rethink his stubborn strategy because this fucking hurt.
He held his side and wandered back in, eyes on the crate and then pulled to the other end of the house to find Kreios’s cold blue eyes sparkling in delight, which only boded ill for him. Lukos narrowed his own dark eyes at Kreios and listened as he was offered a jar of what could only have been poison. Kreios had already displayed such a lack of empathy that Lukos didn’t trust anything that didn’t pass through Neena’s hands too.
“No thank you,” he said as sickeningly sweetly as he was able, sneering at the end. Kreios’s brief look at Neena made Lukos lift his chin and scratch at it as he considered the odd pair before him. Interesting. He wouldn’t mind a tussle with Neena, but a single one would be all he’d ever require of her, probably. He had zero interest in being in Taengea for much longer. There were other things to occupy his time elsewhere and as much as this little drama between Kreios and Neena was sure to be entertaining, Kreios was the last person he intended to live with. This place was so dark and foreboding - like a cave.
Of course, his temple on the island was also cavelike, but it was massive and nice, if he let light in. If Kreios threw open all the shutters, then they’d have to see this crap hole clearly and that wasn’t necessary. And then, in a stupifying move, Neena opted not to obey Kreios’s command about the fish and danced out the door. Lukos stared after her and then at the crate, and then at Kreios.
“She is a bad girlfriend,” he told Kreios and then glanced around. His stomach was rumbling and if Kreios was going to continue to be less than useless, he didn’t see any alternative. “Where are your pans?” A quick glance around found them. The fire they’d had before had reduced itself to a burning bed of embers, which was ideal for cooking. All that needed to happen now was for it to be maintained throughout the day.
“Bring me the fish,” he commanded, more out of habit than snark, this time. It took some doing but he managed to get on his knees, settle the pan on the grate over the coals, and let it heat up with a bit of olive oil. The fish he didn’t bother to debone or prepare in any other way than to just lay them on the pan to fry. Whenever he and his crew stopped at little islands during their journeys across the Aegean, they didn’t often have boning knives and finer cooking utensils. They cooked the fish, ate around the bones, and that was that. This was how Lukos was preparing the fish for Kreios and himself.
Neena’s little comments about how Lukos should be ‘grateful’ were not ever going to manifest in a heartfelt ‘thank you’ to the other man. For one, it’d get thrown back in his face, and then he’d have to haul off and punch the poison merchant, and the fight would ensue from there. Rather, Lukos decided that one breakfast ought to be thanks enough.
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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Lukos had let his head tilt toward Neena, and laughed at her comment. His laughter did not end when Kreios griped at the two of them. He laughed harder because the man’s thunderous expression was so dour and dark that he seemed to suck the light of the sun straight out of the sky to crush it with his personality. All Lukos could say to that was, “There’s goats?” The animals had been amazingly quiet up to now and that, in and of itself, was mildly impressive.
”I see you finally have mercy on our eyes,” Kreios griped at him and Lukos glanced down at his clothes, pulling at them.
“I’ve heard if you get used to something, you learn to like it,” Lukos snarked back. “Should we test that?” But Kreios was already through the door and Lukos shot a look at Neena, who was busy defending (he assumed) the two of them, before working his way back up to standing through sheer willpower alone. He was panting by the end and starting to rethink his stubborn strategy because this fucking hurt.
He held his side and wandered back in, eyes on the crate and then pulled to the other end of the house to find Kreios’s cold blue eyes sparkling in delight, which only boded ill for him. Lukos narrowed his own dark eyes at Kreios and listened as he was offered a jar of what could only have been poison. Kreios had already displayed such a lack of empathy that Lukos didn’t trust anything that didn’t pass through Neena’s hands too.
“No thank you,” he said as sickeningly sweetly as he was able, sneering at the end. Kreios’s brief look at Neena made Lukos lift his chin and scratch at it as he considered the odd pair before him. Interesting. He wouldn’t mind a tussle with Neena, but a single one would be all he’d ever require of her, probably. He had zero interest in being in Taengea for much longer. There were other things to occupy his time elsewhere and as much as this little drama between Kreios and Neena was sure to be entertaining, Kreios was the last person he intended to live with. This place was so dark and foreboding - like a cave.
Of course, his temple on the island was also cavelike, but it was massive and nice, if he let light in. If Kreios threw open all the shutters, then they’d have to see this crap hole clearly and that wasn’t necessary. And then, in a stupifying move, Neena opted not to obey Kreios’s command about the fish and danced out the door. Lukos stared after her and then at the crate, and then at Kreios.
“She is a bad girlfriend,” he told Kreios and then glanced around. His stomach was rumbling and if Kreios was going to continue to be less than useless, he didn’t see any alternative. “Where are your pans?” A quick glance around found them. The fire they’d had before had reduced itself to a burning bed of embers, which was ideal for cooking. All that needed to happen now was for it to be maintained throughout the day.
“Bring me the fish,” he commanded, more out of habit than snark, this time. It took some doing but he managed to get on his knees, settle the pan on the grate over the coals, and let it heat up with a bit of olive oil. The fish he didn’t bother to debone or prepare in any other way than to just lay them on the pan to fry. Whenever he and his crew stopped at little islands during their journeys across the Aegean, they didn’t often have boning knives and finer cooking utensils. They cooked the fish, ate around the bones, and that was that. This was how Lukos was preparing the fish for Kreios and himself.
Neena’s little comments about how Lukos should be ‘grateful’ were not ever going to manifest in a heartfelt ‘thank you’ to the other man. For one, it’d get thrown back in his face, and then he’d have to haul off and punch the poison merchant, and the fight would ensue from there. Rather, Lukos decided that one breakfast ought to be thanks enough.
Lukos had let his head tilt toward Neena, and laughed at her comment. His laughter did not end when Kreios griped at the two of them. He laughed harder because the man’s thunderous expression was so dour and dark that he seemed to suck the light of the sun straight out of the sky to crush it with his personality. All Lukos could say to that was, “There’s goats?” The animals had been amazingly quiet up to now and that, in and of itself, was mildly impressive.
”I see you finally have mercy on our eyes,” Kreios griped at him and Lukos glanced down at his clothes, pulling at them.
“I’ve heard if you get used to something, you learn to like it,” Lukos snarked back. “Should we test that?” But Kreios was already through the door and Lukos shot a look at Neena, who was busy defending (he assumed) the two of them, before working his way back up to standing through sheer willpower alone. He was panting by the end and starting to rethink his stubborn strategy because this fucking hurt.
He held his side and wandered back in, eyes on the crate and then pulled to the other end of the house to find Kreios’s cold blue eyes sparkling in delight, which only boded ill for him. Lukos narrowed his own dark eyes at Kreios and listened as he was offered a jar of what could only have been poison. Kreios had already displayed such a lack of empathy that Lukos didn’t trust anything that didn’t pass through Neena’s hands too.
“No thank you,” he said as sickeningly sweetly as he was able, sneering at the end. Kreios’s brief look at Neena made Lukos lift his chin and scratch at it as he considered the odd pair before him. Interesting. He wouldn’t mind a tussle with Neena, but a single one would be all he’d ever require of her, probably. He had zero interest in being in Taengea for much longer. There were other things to occupy his time elsewhere and as much as this little drama between Kreios and Neena was sure to be entertaining, Kreios was the last person he intended to live with. This place was so dark and foreboding - like a cave.
Of course, his temple on the island was also cavelike, but it was massive and nice, if he let light in. If Kreios threw open all the shutters, then they’d have to see this crap hole clearly and that wasn’t necessary. And then, in a stupifying move, Neena opted not to obey Kreios’s command about the fish and danced out the door. Lukos stared after her and then at the crate, and then at Kreios.
“She is a bad girlfriend,” he told Kreios and then glanced around. His stomach was rumbling and if Kreios was going to continue to be less than useless, he didn’t see any alternative. “Where are your pans?” A quick glance around found them. The fire they’d had before had reduced itself to a burning bed of embers, which was ideal for cooking. All that needed to happen now was for it to be maintained throughout the day.
“Bring me the fish,” he commanded, more out of habit than snark, this time. It took some doing but he managed to get on his knees, settle the pan on the grate over the coals, and let it heat up with a bit of olive oil. The fish he didn’t bother to debone or prepare in any other way than to just lay them on the pan to fry. Whenever he and his crew stopped at little islands during their journeys across the Aegean, they didn’t often have boning knives and finer cooking utensils. They cooked the fish, ate around the bones, and that was that. This was how Lukos was preparing the fish for Kreios and himself.
Neena’s little comments about how Lukos should be ‘grateful’ were not ever going to manifest in a heartfelt ‘thank you’ to the other man. For one, it’d get thrown back in his face, and then he’d have to haul off and punch the poison merchant, and the fight would ensue from there. Rather, Lukos decided that one breakfast ought to be thanks enough.