XOqNI

[tongueamok]

Hello, this is Carlisle. I mean, it's not Carlisle as in I'm actually answering you right now, so if you're trying to reply to me at the second, you should probably save your breath because I'm not really here. This is some kind of a recording of my voice, but this is my communicator. I'm going to assume these devices are as common here as they are in other places — not my world, but others, ones more technologically advanced than where I come from— so if you'd like to leave me a message, then you may do so here, or er... Right. Here is fine. So just leave yo— [beep]

Comments

[puzzlingly]

Sounds like it.

「Can't say that it is the reaction that Atem had been expecting. Carlisle is not one to know it but the young man is very good at reading people, not that the older one seems to be hiding his discomfort.

Atem leaves the pencil and leans back as well, but he keeps his eyes on the taller man.」

What's going through you mind, Carlisle?

[tongueamok]

[He pushes a sigh out of him.]

I am merely wondering if a combined effort would work, and if it is worth training another student.

[puzzlingly]

「Certainly, if he's already doing that... Atem has to wonder how it'd be if Carlisle actually took him under his wing but, no, that's not the first thing that comes to his mind, if anything Carlisle's answer makes him tense with a little flinch. Is he... truly considering it?

He hesitates in his own way, dragging the question for as long as he can.」

What could make it worth it?

「What could make him worthy?」

[tongueamok]

I don't know.

[That answer was immediate, but unspoken ones flit through his mind: the ability to craft a proper inscription, the energy required for such a task, the promise he won't be absolutely demoralized when his student inevitably vanishes and his hours of teaching are utterly wasted. He's sure Atem can't give him that last one. He can do it, certainly, and it would be appropriate for him to help in this situation, but is it worth the exertion it would place upon his mortal frame? His life is limited as it is, and he doesn't even know anyone who is going on this voyage.

Or he does, but he just doesn't realize it yet.]

These people you wish to protect. Do they deserve it? Do they even want it?

[puzzlingly]

Deserve it? 「That's a bit of a loaded question, it makes Atem frown, not quite at Carlisle.」

They don't know it yet. I was planning on giving whatever was possible to make before they went on that trip to retrieve the Door parts. One is Trafalgar Law, and the other one is Rey.

「He's not sure if Law deserves it or not but, maybe he doesn't, but Atem is not going to let him just go there with that demon just so it stabs him in the back, and Rey, well, she knows better. His third one? Maybe that'll come up later, way later.」

[tongueamok]

[Oh, how the mention of a single name can change his attitude. Carlisle's eyes flick to Atem immediately.]

Miss Rey will be going?

[Oh. Oh oh oh. He rubs at his chest as indecision crosses him, and as he takes comfort in the feel of the talisman beneath his vestments, he seems to find his resolution.]

I... suppose such an endeavor for her safety is a noble one. Though if you prove an apt pupil, it could be worthwhile to all of us.

[puzzlingly]

「it's hard not to notice the change of demeanor there.」

She seems to know what she's getting herself into but... I fear for her. 「For everyone. He makes a little pause, before speaking quietly.」

I'd be honored to be your pupil, Carlisle. I... will try my best.

「He cannot promise he won't disappoint him, he's let down so many people here, broke promises, and has been unable to save those he cares about in more than one occasion. It's needless to say that the confidence in himself (and others) has been fractured badly after all these months, all he can do now is try.」

[tongueamok]

[That gets the barest of smiles out of the clergyman.]

I will make you some notes and plan lessons, then. Let us hope we are able to accomplish something of worth together.

[audio]

[dedikated]

( Look she's trying this "being polite" thing. Asking him where he is instead of just telling him to go. )

Someone's injured down the cliffs that way.

( And he's closer than probably any of her staff and she doesn't need to call around to find out where everyone is. )

[audio]

[tongueamok]

And?

[Carlisle, please.]

[audio]

[dedikated]

...It'd be useful if you healed him.

( Said with the tone of "duh, isn't that obvious?" )

[audio]

[tongueamok]

Yes, of course it would be.

[S i g h. And yet:]

Do you know the nature of his injury?

[audio]

[dedikated]

Says he's not sure he can walk.

( Help...ful... )

[audio]

[tongueamok]

[His eyeroll is practically audible.]

Fine. I will see to him.

[audio]

[dedikated]

Good.

( Read: thanks.

Kate out. )

12th! sorry about the late!

[puzzlingly]

「It's done.

They are done at any rate. Atem couldn't be prouder of what they've achieved together, it can be seen in the idle smile on his lips as he breathes in a out a little shallowly, he probably overdid from the moment when he activated the series of glyphs on his cartouche, combined with his own name, it demanded a bit too much out of him, he should have known, he should have rested then, but he refused to let that show; ultimately it was the little seed what took a little too much out of him.

He really doesn't seem to care muy about his own exhaustion when he gives Carlisle a glance with half opened eyelids as he keeps leaning lazily on the back of the chair.」

You okay?

It's all good!

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle, too, is smiling -- he's proud of what he and his new student managed to work out, combining traditional glyphcrafting with the language of hieroglyphs to create a series of unique enchantments for their charms. He's proud of Atem, who has learned much in a relatively short time, and put it all to good use. He's proud of himself for some of his own ingenuity, experimentation and failure finally paying off as the last glyph fades.

But he is also exhausted, and it shows: the glow in his eyes is painfully bright, more so than it has been in some time; his hands shake as he tries to get to his feet, and finds his legs struggle to support him. He leans against the cottage wall as he hacks into the bandage on his arm, unable to clear the blockage in his throat.]

Fine, I- I need a minute—

[He no more than croaks that out before the ink starts pouring from him, droplets becoming a stream, then more as he hacks onto his arm again. It's no wonder where all the stains on it came from.]

[puzzlingly]

「The more they had been working on the charms, the more Atem had been noticing Carlisle growing weary, the glow in his eyes increasing, it cannot be normal — but he didn't ask.

All sudden, his own exhaustion seems forgotten and Atem springs from his seat and closes the distance between him and the taller man.」

Carlisle!

「He tries to support him in some way, afraid that he might collapse right there — the black substance coming out of him makes the Pharaoh stare in horror, it is no wonder where that came from now, he never found the moment to ask about it, too busy and wrapped up in his (their) personal project to distract himself with that. Carlisle never showed an opening either, constantly correcting his mistakes during his teachings, always giving him something to work on, questioning him, and just never talking about themselves.

He should have asked!

Atem also doesn't have to think too much about what is wrong with him, he knows... He can imagine at any rate, and the guilt starts weighting down on him, he asked too much out of the priest. He idly rubs Carlisle's back, in a soothing manner — as much as his short stature allows him anyway — waiting for the event to end.

Don't die. Not yet.」

[tongueamok]

[In normal circumstances, Carlisle would have pushed Atem away. He doesn't like that feeling of being closed in, of people looming over him (or around him, in most cases, given his height). Perhaps he's too tired dismiss the lad's hand at his back or to argue that he's well enough, or maybe he's knows he's getting to a point where he cannot hide what's happening to him.

The ink itself isn't new, but the onset was so sudden this time -- he'd expected it, but not so much, and not immediately. His head pounds, and he instantly regrets that Atem had to see this.

He needs nearly half a minute to catch his breath once most of it is out, ink all over his arm, his hand, and the floor beneath him. His entire frame shakes as he methodically makes his way to his chair.]

Tea. Please. Sorry.

[puzzlingly]

「Carlisle doesn't have to ask twice. Just after making sure that he is able to stand by himself (as he had all the time anyway) and reach the chair, Atem goes to the very small kitchen-like area to serve him some of that previously brewed tea. He doesn't say anything but his actions alone say enough, Carlisle doesn't have to be sorry, no one is making the smaller man stay nor put up with the whatever terminal state Carlisle is in, he wants to help, that much is clear.

He leaves the mug and a small (quickly dampened) towel on the table in front of the other and, after a brief but solid squeeze on Carlisle's shoulder, he busies himself at trying to clean the mess Carlisle left on the floor. The priest is not about to go anywhere anyway, not in that state, he's not about to torture him to speak of the elephant in the room. Not yet anyway.」

[tongueamok]

[Guilt keeps Carlisle from looking at Atem as he cleans up the mess; necessity allows him to move once more as he clasps the mug with both hands, trying to will them to stop shaking for even a moment. He cannot feel the heat of the drink, but he knows it's there, breathes it in as the steam rises from the liquid within. It stills him briefly, enough that he can hold the drink in one hand and get the towel with the other.]

Sorry, lad. That happens from time to time.

[More often now than it used to. Atem may not yet address the elephant in the room, but Carlisle, out of remorse or guilt -- or perhaps respect he's come to feel for the lad, given his diligence with this task -- speaks anyway. He knows questions must be waiting.]

I am cursed. That's why. It's not you, it's not this -- it's existing that does this to me. I should have- I should have taken more time, or been more cautious, but this needed to be done.

[His tone says he's convincing himself of that more than trying to inform Atem of what he already likely knows.]

[puzzlingly]

「How many times before had Atem uttered those same words? It had to be done. It was necessary. He cannot help but shut his eyes for a second, tightly, knowing the full extent of those seemingly insignificant words. He remembers them being one of the very last thoughts he ever had during his life, twice. The first time, he ended up killing himself, and the second, he left everything he had ever loved behind and both were necessary. He and Carlisle both knew it, and they both should have been more careful.

But he doesn't let that show, as he finishes cleaning the floor to the best of his abilities (his cleaning still leaves a lot to be desired) without looking up at Carlisle once, without speaking up yet.

He takes his time to return to his chair, and when he does, he finally stares at Carlisle thoroughly, his elbows on the table and his fingers intertwined between each other.」

You should get that fixed.

「Don't play coy, Carlisle, he knows he has been given options.」

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle's eyes remain affixed on the mug before him, his brow tightening.]

It is not a wound that can merely be 'fixed,' lad. And were there a way, what consequences would there be?

[His tone is utterly sincere, no coyness or duplicity to be found.]

[puzzlingly]

「The older man is being honest with him, more than Atem would have imagined, all the can do is return the gesture in kind.」

Maybe not, but I don't think that's the point... Nothing worth of doing so ever is easy. The real question here is if you really want to fix it.

[tongueamok]

Do you think I wouldn't?

[Despite his exhaustion and his elation just moments ago, his teeth grind together reflexively; the do nothing to hold back another drop of ink as it escapes him, trailing through the gaps along his gumline.

He bites it back. He has to. After all Atem has done for him, right down to the tea he's holding, he doesn't deserve Carlisle's ire. As far as the clergyman is concerned, he doesn't know.]

What I want and what I am capable of are two different things. No one wants to be cursed. No one wants to make a literal mess of things when he has taxed himself. No one wants that to be his legacy.