[ Yuri wakes up groggy and confused, his arms aching from where they're pulled over his head, cuffs digging into his wrists. This feels all to familiar, in a way he doesn't like. It wasn't so long ago that he woke up tied up and jailed on a ship. At least right now it doesn't feel like the floor is moving, but that doesn't actually make him feel any better, because he can hear what sound like gears and mechanisms, and that can't be good. How many times will he find himself behind bars? He hoped no more, but he doesn't get what he wants, does he?
The last thing he remembers is going to sleep with Flynn after some stupid argument about nothing. He's felt something weighing on him, a lot like he felt after Flynn died. Things should be better, Flynn is alive, they have a home, they have a quiet life with Blue, he has a job he actually mostly likes. He should feel better, but he's felt worse and worse since the month turned over, and now here he is, strung up in some unknown place.
He tries to pull on the chain pulling his arms overhead, but it barely budges. At least his feet touches the floor, and he can stand up, taking the strain off his arm. As he does, he sees someone else in this cell with him. ]
Flynn also looks like shit, strung up the same way Yuri is with his arms high above his head and his feet barely skimming the oily floor.
He hasn't been awake for much longer than Yuri has: only a few awful minutes full of fear and useless struggling and trying desperately to figure out how to get out of these chains. His shoulders scream at him for any kind of relief, but Flynn's barely been able to get low enough to stand up. He's pressed his foot into the wall behind him and shoved his toes (bare) into the ground.
It hurts, but Flynn has been focused on Yuri's limp, awful form, watching him closely to make sure he's breathing. It's the only thing that's kept him from outright panicking: watching the rise and fall of his chest, making sure he's actually alive. If he's alive, they can get out of this, no matter that Flynn has no idea how they got into this in the first place.
He sucks in a slow, careful breath, pushing at the wall with a contained wince so he can properly face Yuri. ]
Are you hurt, besides the obvious? Do you remember anything?
[ Yuri pushes off the ground, shifting from foot to foot to try and get some feeling back into his body. His mind is kicking into gear: they aren't in a great situation, but they are together, even if they're tied up together. It seems like every time he pulls on his chains, he rattles Flynn's. Looking up, which makes his neck ache and his head rush, he squints at the ceiling. Yep. Their chains are the same chains, run through a ring in the ceiling. ]
Yeah, I'm-- fine. Are you?
[ He glances back at Flynn, taking in exactly how bad he looks, and Yuri feels worse for it. Did he do this, somehow? He feels a twinge of guilt that he couldn't stop this from happening to Flynn. Flynn in chains is wrong. The only other time he's seen Flynn locked up, he took his place because Flynn deserves to be free. Now, he can't do that, but he can help get them both out. ]
[ A little flame of hope that Flynn hadn't realized he was holding onto—that Yuri might know a way out of this, that he might know why they're here—sputters at those words. Flynn's face sets, a calm, blank mask that helpfully hides how much it hurts just to be yanked up a little bit by Yuri's movement. What a cruel thing to bind them together like this. Flynn can't even feel his fingers. Or his toes, or really much else except the dull, constant throb of pain.
Flynn swallows around another stomach-churning rush of fear, trying to shove it aside. Being afraid won't help him right now. It never has in a time like this: he has to get free, and he has to get Yuri free, and then they have to get out of here. That's what matters here. ]
If I am hurt, I can't feel it anymore. I don't believe I am, and I don't remember coming here either. We've... been alone since I woke up.
[ Was that five minutes ago? Half an hour? Flynn isn't even sure: time is a woozy, hazy thing in here. Every time he looks at Yuri, his heart clenches. ]
Unfortunately, I... can't seem to cast any artes. Or do much of anything.
[ Yuri looks back up at the chains, and tries to summon his new power. It doesn't seem to want to wake up, responds as sluggishly as the rest of his body. He growls, annoyed at it. If he has to put up with his blood changing, the least it could do is work. ]
Damn. Magic isn't working either. I could freeze it or melt it, but--
[ But he can't just leave them dangling here. If Karol was here, he might be able to pick the locks, undo the shackles. He wrinkles his nose, trying to think. ]
Karol taught me this thing...
[ That hurts like a bitch, but he doesn't want to dangle here for much longer. He doesn't have much feeling in his arms, and Flynn looks miserable, and he has no idea who put them in here, and that scares him more than the rest of this put together.
He grits his teeth. Well... it's worth a shot. ]
Give me a little slack?
[ Fixing the problem is much easier than dealing with anything else that's going on right now. He can focus on that and not on the fear rising in his chest. He can't lose Flynn again. He can't. ]
[ Flynn asks, already moving to give him exactly that. If Yuri has a plan, far be it from Flynn to stop him following through on it, no matter how few bare inches he can provide to Yuri. Gritting his teeth, he stretches his numb arms up as hard as he can get them, then shoves his foot into the wall again for that extra centimeter of leverage. There's no time for worrying and thinking right now: they need to act. Pain throbs through him and Flynn's nostrils flare as he sucks in a hard breath, pushing through it. He can do this. He stretches up a little higher, hears a tiny metallic clink of shifting chain. ]
[ Flynn will probably tell him not to, if he tells him what he's going to do, so he doesn't. Instead, he uses the slack to pull his left hand further through one of the shackles, too tight to get his knuckles through, but...
He takes a breath, steeling himself, positions his thumb in the right place, and yanks.
Pain sears through him, but his hand slips through, his thumb dangling limp of his hand. He grits his teeth tight against a curse, keeping the pain inside as much as he can.
Before Flynn pulls the chains down again, he uses his right hand to re-set his thumb, which hurts almost as much as dislocating it. ]
Fuck.
[ But, his hand is free, and he can feel his power slowly coming back to him. He can probably melt the lock with enough concentration. ]
[ Yuri doesn't have a sense of how long it's been since Flynn was ferried out of this awful place by... whatever that was. He's not angry about it. He's glad Flynn is safe. He hopes Flynn is safe. That's one of the only things he's letting himself focus on. Flynn, safe, is what he thinks when he wakes up from his woozy, half-dreaming state, where most of the dreams are nightmares, nightmares of those terrible people, coming to check on his blood, it's always the damn blood in this place; of his guild, his friends, of losing them, like he almost did in the frosts, of losing Estelle to Alexei, again; of losing Flynn, of Flynn turning away from him like he almost did, in Mantaic.
The dreams, as awful as they are, might be better than his reality. He can't move, body prone, shackled to a table, his blood being taken, slowly, slow enough that he figures they intend to keep him alive for a while, long enough to get as much as they can from him. He hasn't eaten in days, even though they give him water every once in a while. He tries to fight back, every time those guys come by to check on him, but he can't do anything but cuss them out, his wrists, neck, waist, and ankles raw from pulling at the restraints. ]
You wouldn't last five minutes in a fight! Come on, face me.
[ Yuri snaps at one of them, his voice hoarse, throat aching. The zealot doesn't seem to notice or care, carefully collecting his frozen blood from the table. It barely even flows, leaves him in icicles that build up out of the shallow cuts carved into his arms, his stomach, his thighs. He thought he was cold with his blood in his body, but with it dripping down the table, he doesn't think he's ever been this cold in his whole life.
He lets out a frustrated scream, mostly for himself, because he hates being helpless more than he hates almost anything else in the world. ]
[This is Kaeya's second trip through this horror show, and it's no better the second go around at all. This time he's at least onto the way this place works. He managed to break out of the holding cell he found himself in and has even armed himself at this point in time -- after a fashion. He's found himself a helmet and a pair of boots and most importantly, a rather formidable looking wrench.
It's the sound of a scream that draws him towards Yuri. He peers around the corner and sees his friend strapped to a table. His attention shifts to focus on the zealot currently leaning over Yuri.
Well, this needs to stop.
He's quiet and quick as he moves, and the zealot only turns in time to catch the flash of metal before Kaeya brings the wrench down hard against his head, hard enough to floor him. Probably not hard enough to kill him, but Kaeya wouldn't shed a tear if it did.]
[ Yuri tenses at the sound of another person, but the flash of blue puts him at ease. Thank the Goddess, it's someone he can rely on.
The zealot goes down and Yuri lets out a breath. They haven't bee torturing him, exactly, at least not actively, but being tied down and bled every day isn't exactly his idea of fun. ]
For now. Think you can get me outta these?
[ He strains his wrists against the restraints, then falls back to the table with a grunt. He's so fucking tired, but having Kaeya here gives him another burst of energy, a burst of adrenalin because maybe, together, they can do this ]
[Kaeya flashes a grin before ducking down to check out how the restraints are fastened. Not locked, so that's helpful. He can at least get Yuri free in short order.
Getting out of here is another matter entirely, but one step at a time. He steps back to allow Yuri room to sit up, but will offer the other man a hand when he goes to stand. He looks, well, rough. And Kaeya gets that. The first time he found himself here with Diluc, he'd been bled as well, and it took a lot out of him.]
Take it easy getting up. We want you steady before we get moving, since I doubt we'll be allowed to just stroll along unhindered.
[ He doesn't take his time at all. In fact, he can't get free fast enough, and lurches up despite the head rush, grabbing Kaeya's hand to steady himself. He pushes away from the table that's been his prison, stumbling on unsteady legs, his tunic open around his torso. At least the blood from his cuts is freezing in places, at least. ]
Real heroic. Shit.
[ He braces a hand on his thigh to try and steady himself, his head swimming, limbs weak, but he won't let himself collapse ]
If only. Maybe they'll say, oh, wow, good job, you got free, here's the exit.
[Kaeya lends Yuri as much support as he needs until he's confident the other man has his feet solidly underneath him.]
I was here before...
[He begins, frowning.] Diluc and I woke up strapped down like you were. I'd love to say we discovered a secret way out, but something snatched us out of here unexpectedly. Moon Presence, I think.
[So maybe they'll get lucky again. Or...] While I'm all for hoping for the best, to hedge our bets, maybe our fallen friend here can provide some info. [He nudges the zealot he knocked out with the toe of his boot.]
[ Bare moments after Flynn is swept away, and Yuri is left in this stark, awful place, two of those strange people in culty robes come upon him. He has some of his power back, but no sword, no axe, no nothing. He feels naked without it, without armor or the leather glove he wears around his hand.
He looks at them, coming too close for comfort, throws a punch at one of them, a kick at the other, then books it. The kick, at least, connects, and the guy tries to grab Yuri's leg, but he shakes his off as he runs down the hall.
He has no plan, no plan at all except to get away from these guys for long enough to make a plan. Except, he's tired and fear is curling in his gut and Flynn is gone and he's alone, and those culty guys are running after him.
Sure would be nice if someone came upon him at this very moment to help. ]
[Sadly for Yuri, the person who rounds the corner down the end of the hallway is disheveled, bloody, and most importantly, takes all of two seconds to process the situation before abruptly retreating back around the corner.
Your zealots, your problem.]
...
[Alright, fine. While Yuri might feel the faint sting of abandonment, Lysithea is actually crouched against the wall taking deep breaths and holding her hands out in front of her, willing the magic to her fingertips. Her powers were weakened in this place, though the longer she stays, the more she feels her strength returning. She doesn't care to ruminate upon what that might mean.]
Dark Spikes.
[Intoning almost emotionlessly, she steps back around and - with a sharp hand motion - a series of razor sharp spears erupt from the ground behind Yuri, impeding the path of the cultists.]
[She murmurs, her voice still carrying that odd toneless quality. She sounds as if she were speaking from a great distance, her words echoing across some sort of vast gulf. The implication, of course, is that she has had a previous run-in with these things.]
This way doesn't lead anywhere in particular. It's all simply an endless maze.
Well, I'm not just going to sit around until they really trap me.
[ With the implication that she can if she wants, but he wouldn't recommend it. ]
Maybe they're more powerful right now. Together, we might be able to take them. Two's always better than one.
[ He sees that distance in her eyes and, well, he gets it. He really does. If he and Flynn couldn't take them, that's not great. But Lysithea has different skills than Flynn does. Maybe together, they might be able to do something. ]
[At his query, she stops abruptly, turning her gaze to meet his eyes for the first time. The hollow expression does not change -- Yuri likely knows her well enough by now to recognize that something is seriously wrong. Lysithea has retreated somewhere inside her mind, leaving this automaton behind to carry out vital processes.
Something about his question has aroused some unknown emotion.]
...
No. I have to find them...
[Her words trail off. No explanation is offered before she resumes a brisk pace.]
[ Finally, after he doesn't know how many days, Yuri is free of that awful place. He and Kaeya found a way out, made a sacrifice, and that was the last he saw of his friend. He has faith, though, that he got out, too. There's no reason Yuri would be here and Kaeya wouldn't.
He's exhausted, wrung out, the adrenalin leeching out of him as he slumps, shivering and exhausted, against a wall. He's somewhere in Trench. He has no idea where. He's still in the jumpsuit he'd been put in, the front still open down to his navel, but he doesn't have the energy to do it up at all, not even for warmth.
He needs to get home. Home to see if Flynn is there, to make sure that Flynn got out, somehow. That he's not still stuck in that awful place.
Warmth blossoms in his chest and Smokey appears out of smoke with a loud caw, stretching his arms and growing bigger, bigger until he can land in front of Yuri and Yuri can scramble onto his back. It's weird, him being so big, but he isn't going to question it now.
It takes what strength he has left to hold on, his arms locked around Smokey's neck, as the giant kestrel takes off into the frigid night air.
He's nearly frozen by the time they touch down in the front yard of their little cottage. Smokey caws again, softer now, to tell him to let go, and he does, but his arms are stiff and tired. He staggers a little, and Smokey noses under him to keep him up, and he wonders vaguely if this is how Blue feels all the time as he shuffles slowly to the front door.
It's locked. Of course it is. Flynn always locked the door (Flynn is probably here, probably okay, unless Blue learned too many of his habits). Letting out a sigh, he reaches up as best he can and knocks. ]
For the last three days Flynn has been anything but: he has been in the woods running himself to the bone, hunting for a Tower that is nowhere, looking for zealots to give him answers none of them want to give. He's been in the archives at the School of Mutter learning anything he can about that awful place, he's been hunting down the flying moon to hold her accountable for her failure to pull Yuri too, he's been trying not to think about a horrible, endless cycle of rebirth and draining and death.
He has been trying to find Yuri with the same single-minded dedication that drove him onto the sea for nearly a week, searching for pale limbs and long dark hair, even just a body to know what happened.
It's only thanks to Blue that he's home at all: Blue has been an anchor, a reminder that there's a home for Flynn to come to, that they have to be here in case Yuri is pulled from that place like Flynn was.
He was out in the woods today, searching among mushrooms and early snow for one of the zealots to take him to the tower with sword in hand and mended armor heavy and comforting.
All he found was mushrooms, and by the time early night fell crisp and clear, Flynn was full of a bone-deep exhaustion he pushed through all the same, kept searching until he was dead on his feet and stumbling over clumps of dead bracken. Daisy had practically forced him home, practical thing, pushing at his back to get him to leave while Flynn had, in a moment of weakness, pleaded quietly with the bright moon to bring Yuri back.
He wasn't expecting an answer, and he didn't get one: it was only him and Daisy and the quiet, disappearing puff of his own breath.
At least at home there are books that he'd taken from the school: books on the Tower-the-Pthumerian and books on that awful tower and the zealots who keep the blood flowing to it. This is a known thing, and Flynn hates it, knows Yuri will hate it. He is exhausted, but he keeps reading by candlelight and the flickering fire (the lunar orb makes him think of the moon and his own failure, and so he stashed that in the kitchen).
He isn't expecting the knock, either, but Daisy's head jerks up from her curled place by the fire, and so Flynn scrambles to his feet with his heart in his throat and practically throws himself at the front door, pulling open the latches with numb fingers and throwing it open to find— ]
Yuri!
[ Pale as death, still in that jumpsuit, with blood smeared on him and his hair hanging limp, looking like he's about to fall over except for Smokey, too-large and holding him up like a feathered cane.
Flynn moves without thinking, reason overtaking worry, to slide an arm under Yuri's shoulders, pull him off Smokey and into the door toward the fire. ]
[ Oh, good. Flynn is here. He's here and alive and he looks like shit, but that doesn't matter.
He pulls Yuri away from Smokey, and he falls heavily onto Flynn and, for once, he doesn't feel like he needs to stand on his own feet. Instead, he feels grateful that Flynn is here, that Flynn wants to take on some of his weight, that Flynn is here. It's an intense gratitude, and he remembers that one last kiss before Flynn cast that spell like an idiot, and he hoped, in moments of weakness, tied to that table, that it wouldn't be the last one.
He'd grown too used to those kisses in the last month. It was weakness, something that he wants, that he can have, that he shouldn't need but he does. He needs Flynn desperately and when Flynn helps him sit down onto the couch, he doesn't quite let go of him, keeping hold of Flynn's wrist. ]
Hey, Flynn.
[ He manages a smile, soft and easy because Flynn is alive, and he's with him again, and it's over. It's over and they got out and he can think about what to do next-- in the morning. ]
[ And food, and medical attention and to have the blood cleaned off—Flynn's voice is a numb thing, shaking only because the force of his feeling is too great to do anything but ride like a horse gone off-trail.
But he stops as soon as Yuri tugs on him a little, turns back to face him, taking in the details of his sleepless face and tired eyes and familiar mouth—
Oh, Goddess, Flynn was so worried, he doesn't know what to do with the relief shining sharply through him. It tingles in his fingers, draws him helplessly toward Yuri with his throat tight. ]
[ Yuri looks up at him, taking in the lines of Flynn's face, the way he looks helpless under Yuri's hold on him. He tugs Flynn a little closer. ]
I'm glad you're okay.
[ Because he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure at all. Flynn was there, and then he was gone, and Yuri could hope that he got out, but what if he was taken somewhere worse? What if in his moment of weakness, he was taken to some worse place in that tower? ]
[ Flynn's voice does crack, this time, the careful shell of tasks and business he constructs to keep himself from falling apart made into nothing by the softness in Yuri's voice. He lets himself be tugged and then sort of half-falls onto the couch and his knees all at once. ]
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flynn
The last thing he remembers is going to sleep with Flynn after some stupid argument about nothing. He's felt something weighing on him, a lot like he felt after Flynn died. Things should be better, Flynn is alive, they have a home, they have a quiet life with Blue, he has a job he actually mostly likes. He should feel better, but he's felt worse and worse since the month turned over, and now here he is, strung up in some unknown place.
He tries to pull on the chain pulling his arms overhead, but it barely budges. At least his feet touches the floor, and he can stand up, taking the strain off his arm. As he does, he sees someone else in this cell with him. ]
Flynn?!
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[ Flynn sounds like shit.
Flynn also looks like shit, strung up the same way Yuri is with his arms high above his head and his feet barely skimming the oily floor.
He hasn't been awake for much longer than Yuri has: only a few awful minutes full of fear and useless struggling and trying desperately to figure out how to get out of these chains. His shoulders scream at him for any kind of relief, but Flynn's barely been able to get low enough to stand up. He's pressed his foot into the wall behind him and shoved his toes (bare) into the ground.
It hurts, but Flynn has been focused on Yuri's limp, awful form, watching him closely to make sure he's breathing. It's the only thing that's kept him from outright panicking: watching the rise and fall of his chest, making sure he's actually alive. If he's alive, they can get out of this, no matter that Flynn has no idea how they got into this in the first place.
He sucks in a slow, careful breath, pushing at the wall with a contained wince so he can properly face Yuri. ]
Are you hurt, besides the obvious? Do you remember anything?
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[ Yuri pushes off the ground, shifting from foot to foot to try and get some feeling back into his body. His mind is kicking into gear: they aren't in a great situation, but they are together, even if they're tied up together. It seems like every time he pulls on his chains, he rattles Flynn's. Looking up, which makes his neck ache and his head rush, he squints at the ceiling. Yep. Their chains are the same chains, run through a ring in the ceiling. ]
Yeah, I'm-- fine. Are you?
[ He glances back at Flynn, taking in exactly how bad he looks, and Yuri feels worse for it. Did he do this, somehow? He feels a twinge of guilt that he couldn't stop this from happening to Flynn. Flynn in chains is wrong. The only other time he's seen Flynn locked up, he took his place because Flynn deserves to be free. Now, he can't do that, but he can help get them both out. ]
I remember going to sleep. Nothing after that.
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[ A little flame of hope that Flynn hadn't realized he was holding onto—that Yuri might know a way out of this, that he might know why they're here—sputters at those words. Flynn's face sets, a calm, blank mask that helpfully hides how much it hurts just to be yanked up a little bit by Yuri's movement. What a cruel thing to bind them together like this. Flynn can't even feel his fingers. Or his toes, or really much else except the dull, constant throb of pain.
Flynn swallows around another stomach-churning rush of fear, trying to shove it aside. Being afraid won't help him right now. It never has in a time like this: he has to get free, and he has to get Yuri free, and then they have to get out of here. That's what matters here. ]
If I am hurt, I can't feel it anymore. I don't believe I am, and I don't remember coming here either. We've... been alone since I woke up.
[ Was that five minutes ago? Half an hour? Flynn isn't even sure: time is a woozy, hazy thing in here. Every time he looks at Yuri, his heart clenches. ]
Unfortunately, I... can't seem to cast any artes. Or do much of anything.
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Damn. Magic isn't working either. I could freeze it or melt it, but--
[ But he can't just leave them dangling here. If Karol was here, he might be able to pick the locks, undo the shackles. He wrinkles his nose, trying to think. ]
Karol taught me this thing...
[ That hurts like a bitch, but he doesn't want to dangle here for much longer. He doesn't have much feeling in his arms, and Flynn looks miserable, and he has no idea who put them in here, and that scares him more than the rest of this put together.
He grits his teeth. Well... it's worth a shot. ]
Give me a little slack?
[ Fixing the problem is much easier than dealing with anything else that's going on right now. He can focus on that and not on the fear rising in his chest. He can't lose Flynn again. He can't. ]
no subject
[ Flynn asks, already moving to give him exactly that. If Yuri has a plan, far be it from Flynn to stop him following through on it, no matter how few bare inches he can provide to Yuri. Gritting his teeth, he stretches his numb arms up as hard as he can get them, then shoves his foot into the wall again for that extra centimeter of leverage. There's no time for worrying and thinking right now: they need to act. Pain throbs through him and Flynn's nostrils flare as he sucks in a hard breath, pushing through it. He can do this. He stretches up a little higher, hears a tiny metallic clink of shifting chain. ]
Pull on them, I think you should have more now—
cw: dislocating digits
He takes a breath, steeling himself, positions his thumb in the right place, and yanks.
Pain sears through him, but his hand slips through, his thumb dangling limp of his hand. He grits his teeth tight against a curse, keeping the pain inside as much as he can.
Before Flynn pulls the chains down again, he uses his right hand to re-set his thumb, which hurts almost as much as dislocating it. ]
Fuck.
[ But, his hand is free, and he can feel his power slowly coming back to him. He can probably melt the lock with enough concentration. ]
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kaeya
The dreams, as awful as they are, might be better than his reality. He can't move, body prone, shackled to a table, his blood being taken, slowly, slow enough that he figures they intend to keep him alive for a while, long enough to get as much as they can from him. He hasn't eaten in days, even though they give him water every once in a while. He tries to fight back, every time those guys come by to check on him, but he can't do anything but cuss them out, his wrists, neck, waist, and ankles raw from pulling at the restraints. ]
You wouldn't last five minutes in a fight! Come on, face me.
[ Yuri snaps at one of them, his voice hoarse, throat aching. The zealot doesn't seem to notice or care, carefully collecting his frozen blood from the table. It barely even flows, leaves him in icicles that build up out of the shallow cuts carved into his arms, his stomach, his thighs. He thought he was cold with his blood in his body, but with it dripping down the table, he doesn't think he's ever been this cold in his whole life.
He lets out a frustrated scream, mostly for himself, because he hates being helpless more than he hates almost anything else in the world. ]
no subject
It's the sound of a scream that draws him towards Yuri. He peers around the corner and sees his friend strapped to a table. His attention shifts to focus on the zealot currently leaning over Yuri.
Well, this needs to stop.
He's quiet and quick as he moves, and the zealot only turns in time to catch the flash of metal before Kaeya brings the wrench down hard against his head, hard enough to floor him. Probably not hard enough to kill him, but Kaeya wouldn't shed a tear if it did.]
Yuri. [A hushed urgent whisper.] You alive?
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The zealot goes down and Yuri lets out a breath. They haven't bee torturing him, exactly, at least not actively, but being tied down and bled every day isn't exactly his idea of fun. ]
For now. Think you can get me outta these?
[ He strains his wrists against the restraints, then falls back to the table with a grunt. He's so fucking tired, but having Kaeya here gives him another burst of energy, a burst of adrenalin because maybe, together, they can do this ]
no subject
[Kaeya flashes a grin before ducking down to check out how the restraints are fastened. Not locked, so that's helpful. He can at least get Yuri free in short order.
Getting out of here is another matter entirely, but one step at a time. He steps back to allow Yuri room to sit up, but will offer the other man a hand when he goes to stand. He looks, well, rough. And Kaeya gets that. The first time he found himself here with Diluc, he'd been bled as well, and it took a lot out of him.]
Take it easy getting up. We want you steady before we get moving, since I doubt we'll be allowed to just stroll along unhindered.
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Real heroic. Shit.
[ He braces a hand on his thigh to try and steady himself, his head swimming, limbs weak, but he won't let himself collapse ]
If only. Maybe they'll say, oh, wow, good job, you got free, here's the exit.
no subject
[Kaeya lends Yuri as much support as he needs until he's confident the other man has his feet solidly underneath him.]
I was here before...
[He begins, frowning.] Diluc and I woke up strapped down like you were. I'd love to say we discovered a secret way out, but something snatched us out of here unexpectedly. Moon Presence, I think.
[So maybe they'll get lucky again. Or...] While I'm all for hoping for the best, to hedge our bets, maybe our fallen friend here can provide some info. [He nudges the zealot he knocked out with the toe of his boot.]
Help me get him on the table?
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lysithea
He looks at them, coming too close for comfort, throws a punch at one of them, a kick at the other, then books it. The kick, at least, connects, and the guy tries to grab Yuri's leg, but he shakes his off as he runs down the hall.
He has no plan, no plan at all except to get away from these guys for long enough to make a plan. Except, he's tired and fear is curling in his gut and Flynn is gone and he's alone, and those culty guys are running after him.
Sure would be nice if someone came upon him at this very moment to help. ]
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Your zealots, your problem.]
...
[Alright, fine. While Yuri might feel the faint sting of abandonment, Lysithea is actually crouched against the wall taking deep breaths and holding her hands out in front of her, willing the magic to her fingertips. Her powers were weakened in this place, though the longer she stays, the more she feels her strength returning. She doesn't care to ruminate upon what that might mean.]
Dark Spikes.
[Intoning almost emotionlessly, she steps back around and - with a sharp hand motion - a series of razor sharp spears erupt from the ground behind Yuri, impeding the path of the cultists.]
Hurry. The magic won't last long.
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He misses a step when the spikes lurch out of the ground, but catches him, looking back at the zealots, now further behind him, with wide eyes.
He skids around the corner to find her, dropping down next to her. ]
Shit. Nice move. I'd probably be cult bait if you hadn't stopped 'em.
[ He looks around, trying desperately to see where to go, but it all looks the same. ]
C'mon. This way.
[ Working together is better than not, even if he doesn't have much to offer right now without a weapon in his hand. ]
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[She murmurs, her voice still carrying that odd toneless quality. She sounds as if she were speaking from a great distance, her words echoing across some sort of vast gulf. The implication, of course, is that she has had a previous run-in with these things.]
This way doesn't lead anywhere in particular. It's all simply an endless maze.
They have us trapped.
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[ With the implication that she can if she wants, but he wouldn't recommend it. ]
Maybe they're more powerful right now. Together, we might be able to take them. Two's always better than one.
[ He sees that distance in her eyes and, well, he gets it. He really does. If he and Flynn couldn't take them, that's not great. But Lysithea has different skills than Flynn does. Maybe together, they might be able to do something. ]
You gonna give up on me?
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[At his query, she stops abruptly, turning her gaze to meet his eyes for the first time. The hollow expression does not change -- Yuri likely knows her well enough by now to recognize that something is seriously wrong. Lysithea has retreated somewhere inside her mind, leaving this automaton behind to carry out vital processes.
Something about his question has aroused some unknown emotion.]
...
No. I have to find them...
[Her words trail off. No explanation is offered before she resumes a brisk pace.]
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1/2 hope this is ok let me know if it's too much
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this is perfect, thank you! and go lysithea, so cool
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cw: mild body horror
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flynn pt. 2
He's exhausted, wrung out, the adrenalin leeching out of him as he slumps, shivering and exhausted, against a wall. He's somewhere in Trench. He has no idea where. He's still in the jumpsuit he'd been put in, the front still open down to his navel, but he doesn't have the energy to do it up at all, not even for warmth.
He needs to get home. Home to see if Flynn is there, to make sure that Flynn got out, somehow. That he's not still stuck in that awful place.
Warmth blossoms in his chest and Smokey appears out of smoke with a loud caw, stretching his arms and growing bigger, bigger until he can land in front of Yuri and Yuri can scramble onto his back. It's weird, him being so big, but he isn't going to question it now.
It takes what strength he has left to hold on, his arms locked around Smokey's neck, as the giant kestrel takes off into the frigid night air.
He's nearly frozen by the time they touch down in the front yard of their little cottage. Smokey caws again, softer now, to tell him to let go, and he does, but his arms are stiff and tired. He staggers a little, and Smokey noses under him to keep him up, and he wonders vaguely if this is how Blue feels all the time as he shuffles slowly to the front door.
It's locked. Of course it is. Flynn always locked the door (Flynn is probably here, probably okay, unless Blue learned too many of his habits). Letting out a sigh, he reaches up as best he can and knocks. ]
the sequel to flynn
For the last three days Flynn has been anything but: he has been in the woods running himself to the bone, hunting for a Tower that is nowhere, looking for zealots to give him answers none of them want to give. He's been in the archives at the School of Mutter learning anything he can about that awful place, he's been hunting down the flying moon to hold her accountable for her failure to pull Yuri too, he's been trying not to think about a horrible, endless cycle of rebirth and draining and death.
He has been trying to find Yuri with the same single-minded dedication that drove him onto the sea for nearly a week, searching for pale limbs and long dark hair, even just a body to know what happened.
It's only thanks to Blue that he's home at all: Blue has been an anchor, a reminder that there's a home for Flynn to come to, that they have to be here in case Yuri is pulled from that place like Flynn was.
He was out in the woods today, searching among mushrooms and early snow for one of the zealots to take him to the tower with sword in hand and mended armor heavy and comforting.
All he found was mushrooms, and by the time early night fell crisp and clear, Flynn was full of a bone-deep exhaustion he pushed through all the same, kept searching until he was dead on his feet and stumbling over clumps of dead bracken. Daisy had practically forced him home, practical thing, pushing at his back to get him to leave while Flynn had, in a moment of weakness, pleaded quietly with the bright moon to bring Yuri back.
He wasn't expecting an answer, and he didn't get one: it was only him and Daisy and the quiet, disappearing puff of his own breath.
At least at home there are books that he'd taken from the school: books on the Tower-the-Pthumerian and books on that awful tower and the zealots who keep the blood flowing to it. This is a known thing, and Flynn hates it, knows Yuri will hate it. He is exhausted, but he keeps reading by candlelight and the flickering fire (the lunar orb makes him think of the moon and his own failure, and so he stashed that in the kitchen).
He isn't expecting the knock, either, but Daisy's head jerks up from her curled place by the fire, and so Flynn scrambles to his feet with his heart in his throat and practically throws himself at the front door, pulling open the latches with numb fingers and throwing it open to find— ]
Yuri!
[ Pale as death, still in that jumpsuit, with blood smeared on him and his hair hanging limp, looking like he's about to fall over except for Smokey, too-large and holding him up like a feathered cane.
Flynn moves without thinking, reason overtaking worry, to slide an arm under Yuri's shoulders, pull him off Smokey and into the door toward the fire. ]
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He pulls Yuri away from Smokey, and he falls heavily onto Flynn and, for once, he doesn't feel like he needs to stand on his own feet. Instead, he feels grateful that Flynn is here, that Flynn wants to take on some of his weight, that Flynn is here. It's an intense gratitude, and he remembers that one last kiss before Flynn cast that spell like an idiot, and he hoped, in moments of weakness, tied to that table, that it wouldn't be the last one.
He'd grown too used to those kisses in the last month. It was weakness, something that he wants, that he can have, that he shouldn't need but he does. He needs Flynn desperately and when Flynn helps him sit down onto the couch, he doesn't quite let go of him, keeping hold of Flynn's wrist. ]
Hey, Flynn.
[ He manages a smile, soft and easy because Flynn is alive, and he's with him again, and it's over. It's over and they got out and he can think about what to do next-- in the morning. ]
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[ And food, and medical attention and to have the blood cleaned off—Flynn's voice is a numb thing, shaking only because the force of his feeling is too great to do anything but ride like a horse gone off-trail.
But he stops as soon as Yuri tugs on him a little, turns back to face him, taking in the details of his sleepless face and tired eyes and familiar mouth—
Oh, Goddess, Flynn was so worried, he doesn't know what to do with the relief shining sharply through him. It tingles in his fingers, draws him helplessly toward Yuri with his throat tight. ]
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I'm glad you're okay.
[ Because he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure at all. Flynn was there, and then he was gone, and Yuri could hope that he got out, but what if he was taken somewhere worse? What if in his moment of weakness, he was taken to some worse place in that tower? ]
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[ Flynn's voice does crack, this time, the careful shell of tasks and business he constructs to keep himself from falling apart made into nothing by the softness in Yuri's voice. He lets himself be tugged and then sort of half-falls onto the couch and his knees all at once. ]
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