faderift | (no subject)

(no subject)

WHO: Cyril visits Sorrel, Adasse is there too. Possible appearances from Beleth.
WHAT: After finding out that Sorrel was kidnapped and poisoned, Cyril comes to visit to make sure he's okay.
WHEN: After this thread.
WHERE: Sorrel's place.
NOTES: Mentions of kidnapping and poisoning.

Cyril was more than a little worried. Even with Sorrel promising he was all right, nothing would fully calm that worry until he saw Sorrel in person. So he arrived with one of his newest puzzle boxes and some candies that had helped Pel with morning sickness. He knew that that type of nausea was different than what Sorrel might be experiencing after being poisoned, but it was still the best he could come up with.

He arrived right when he said he would be there, and knocked to be let in.

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Cyril smiles at the way that Adasse brightens but he also can't help but notice the tired look on Adasse's face.

After a moment he comes closer and touches Adasse's arm, offering some kind of physical comfort. "How are you holding up?"

Adasse exhales slowly, squeezing Cyril's arm in turn. He's always been a tactile fellow, so the feeling of Cyril's shirt grounds him in the there and now.

"I ... well. Can you be somewhere between happy and terrified and still stay sane? Because that's where I am." He smiled again, "Beleth's going to kill me if the Harlots don't get to me first."

Cyril shook his head. "I doubt Sorrel will let her do that, and I'll help protect you from that gang. You aren't alone."

He considers the direction where Sorrel is sleeping and then looks back at Adasse. "He told me that you two kissed, finally. Honestly that was a bit of a weird communication. First he yelled at me for prying, then told me he had been kidnapped and poisoned, then told me that you kissed. So, yes, I would say it is utterly possible to be somewhere between happy and terrified - though what I experienced can't be nearly as much as what you're feeling."

"That, Cyril, is why you are a lovely and scary soul. Just like the rest of your family." Adasse leaned on the door way - and shook his head with bemusement. "You know, I'm mad about the man, but he does tend to switch on and off at the oddest times, doesn't he?"

Cyril doesn't correct Adasse about calling the clan his family, because he's just too emotionally drained to tackle that topic. That and his focus on on Sorrel's well being, not what it means to be outclan.

"He does, but that's why we adore him," he replies, not bothering to even give thought to how he just admitted to adoring Sorrel in some way.

"Speaking of, can I see him or is he still too out of it?"

"Hello?" A voice from the back room, somewhat groggy still, but no less audible for its unsteadiness, "Adasse? Izzat Cyril?"

It seems that, however out of it Sorrel may or not be, he's still aware enough to insert himself into other people's conversations.

Adasse looked over at Cyril for a moment, dark eyes narrowing thoughtfully for a moment, before he beamed and let him inside. Closing the door behind Cyril, he called out to Sorrel, "Hey, Sleeping Beauty ... you have a visitor, who just happens to be Cyril."

"That's right, I am here," Cyril says, playfully and dramatically. He really can't help the smile that comes to his face at hearing Adasse be so verbally affectionate with Sorrel. All of his weird lingering jealousy seems to melt away when he thinks about the two of them together. He also feels intense relief at proof that Sorrel is aware and alive.

"I brought some of my puzzles, to pass the time while you're stuck here. And some of those candies that helped Pel with nausea. I'm not so sure they'll work the same for... well... It's not as if your problem is morning sickness."

When Cyril and Adasse cross into view, Sorrel is just sitting up, still clearly trying to shake off the last of his most recent nap. His shirt is askew, blankets equally mussed, and his hair shows evidence of his enforced bedrest as it is. He smiles for them, for Cyril, but that softer, shyer glance is all for Adasse.

"I think there might be some differences, yeah. But if I suddenly come up pregnant, then that would at least be a good story," The joke is a little slow coming, but if nothing else could prove Sorrel's wellbeing to Cyril, surely his terrible sense of humor should, "Ma serannas, anyways. Candy is candy, even if they don't make a difference. Between you and me, I think Beleth might be putting sleeping-draught in her antidotes; I'm getting kinda tired of being tired."

He would still drink it, of course; just because he makes fun of her, it doesn't change that he'll trust her with everything he is.

"Speaking of which, Adasse, is there any tea left? Or-- that was probably hours ago, sorry."

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