Day 163 // Every plan is a tiny prayer to father time

[fuckthemancers]

Who: Zulf and you
Open: Open
When: Day 163
Where: Throughout the Bastion
What: Well, someone has to take up the kitchen work, and prepare Night's funeral, and write down the history and culture of two different cities...
Format: Anything
Warnings: Nothing immediately comes to mind, although it should be noted that Zulf is in a bad state mentally/emotionally so depending on the conversations, things could be described. Lemme know where you want to run into him!

As soon as he's able, Zulf leaves the hospital. It's not like he deserves to be there, after all, not with the dead, not with the injured. He's fine, isn't he? Besides... There's too much to do. So on the 163rd day of the Bastion's existence, feel free to run into him just about anywhere looking exhausted in nearly every way imaginable.

...Unless your name is Raile, Zia, Rucks, Colin, Rin, Zayna, Zahi, Nathaniel, or Rosethorn. In which case, seeing any of those individuals makes the man startle before immediately trying to find a way to leave the area before conversation can happen. Seriously, he will bolt if he has to, don't make him change from a quick walk.

Periodically throughout the day, Zulf can be found in the kitchens...

With Rin out of commission and Mireille still taking care of her baby, someone has to keep the kitchen up and running. Zulf still remembers the offer he made to her, so of course he's going to keep to what he said. Breakfast, lunch, dinner... He's not in the kitchen the entire day, but he's there often enough. His sleeves are rolled up and he's hard at work like maybe enough cooking will help things. Feel free to interrupt him at any time.

Sometime in the morning after breakfast, it's off to the the Hitachiin-Abe home.

It's something he's been meaning to get to for ages now, really. Seimei had asked about the Tazal Terminals and Caelondia. It's just proper that he finally get to writing all the large amount of answers. He's already holding some things in his arms when he gets there, a thick heavy photo album stacked with papers and crude writing tools- things he's scavenged here and there particularly from the Mancer Observatory. He's passed by the home before, but it's only now that he takes a moment to admire it. Any of the residents can find him waiting awkwardly by the front, not sure how to make his presence known.

Come night, well, that is traditionally the Lorn Mother's time. Anyone still awake... Well, there's a light on at the Shrine.

Honestly, he doesn't know the state of the Gods for all these other worlds that have fallen apart. All he knows it that the Pantheon still has its eye on the scattered fragments that once made up Caelondia, the Terminals, the Wild Unknown... So at least there's that. If she doesn't have anywhere to go or where she's going is worse than that, the Lorn Mother can keep her safe. If there is somewhere for her... Mother guide her home.

Either way, they need to have a funeral. Both to help her soul be free of its ties to the physical, and to help those still alive mourn.

So he gets hard at work, cleaning the shrine with an almost single minded dedication. There won't be any rest until it's spotless... Although he won't lie, he's doing his best to avoid any kind of rest as much as he can. So maybe someone will walk in on him doing that.

When he isn't cleaning, however, he's settled to the side. There's a small pile of salvaged clothing besides him and a sorry excuse for a sewing kit that he makes do with. Red seems to be a theme with the clothes he's picked out...

Comments

[evacuate]

[She purses her lips.] Zulf, you look like you're about to keel over. You need to get some rest.

[fuckthemancers]

[He... knows. It's obvious in how he hunches his shoulders and crosses his arms so he's holding his elbows. Trying to avoid eye contact, yep.]

[evacuate]

Zulf... [She bites her lip, thinks not this again not in exasperation but fear. She's not letting him revert to where he started again, she isn't losing him over something she thought was so innocuous.]

Okay, well, I came prepared. [With some reluctance, she lets go of him and scoots back just far enough to adjust her sweater so she can reach into her pants pockets. First she pulls out a pen and holds it out to him, and then a piece of paper, which she unfolds out of a tight square. It's a blank sheet of music paper, creased and a little crumpled, that she hands him.]

You need to rest. So what's wrong? [It's the last idea she's got. If he can't speak, that's fine, but she isn't going to mistakenly push him away with guessing games.]

[fuckthemancers]

[Clever girl.]

[Zulf seems a bit relieved and takes what she offers. There's still some hesitation, rolling the pen inbetween his fingers before he finally puts it to paper. It doesn't take long before he's holding it out to her again.]

NIghtmares.

[evacuate]

Oh. [It doesn't sound like a word so much as it does just a noise, anxious and frightened.

She has to take a moment to think about that, staring down at the paper and rolling the word around in her mind. When she looks back up at him, there's determination blazing in her eyes.]

Then I'll stay up with you. I'll wake you up if anything seems wrong. Maybe—maybe singing would help.

[fuckthemancers]

[Whups, time for some quickly scribbled words! Only they still look rather nice. Zulf was raised properly, thank you, and that means quickly writing in a nice way.]

You still need to sleep.

[evacuate]

I'll wait until you're up. When was the last time you got a proper night's sleep, huh? [Her tone might be teasing if she wasn't so worried.] My sleep schedule can deal with a weird night.

[fuckthemancers]

[...Touche.]

[He doesn't exactly seem pleased with this, but he's run out of excuses for now. So, tentatively, he gives a slow nod. He surrenders.]

[evacuate]

[VICTORY

Beaming, she bounces to her feet and immediately sets to work gathering together his sewing kit and draping the clothes over her arm.] Is that everything? Come on, let's go. [Better hurry before he goes and tries to change his mind!]

[fuckthemancers]

[Hot damn, Zia, you are quick. Zulf hastily grabs what he can, hustling after her with almost bemused blinks.]

[evacuate]

[At least she slows down once she notices him hauling along behind her. The bounce in her step keeps her just ahead, though, all the way to his tent, which she barges right into. She picks a corner by a stack of packed things—she'd drag him to the tower now if she wasn't so intent on making him sleep—and plops the fabric into a pile.]

[fuckthemancers]

[There is perhaps the slightest noise of protest when she just dumps them all like that and then he just sort of... stands there, awkwardly hunched. Wow suddenly the idea of sleeping while he is being watched seems so much awkward.]

[Still, after a second, he sort of... sits down at his little sleeping area. He doesn't go to sleep just yet. He's still watching Zia a bit.]

[evacuate]

Oh, calm down. [With a dramatic roll of her eyes, she crouches over and pulls the heap together into more of a stack.

She sits down and holds out her arm to present the pile.] Better? Will you lie down and go to sleep if I color code it? [It's said with a tiny, teasing giggle in her voice.]

1/2

[fuckthemancers]

[Wow, Zia, gosh!!! He puffs out his cheeks a little before he finally gives a huff and lays down-]

[fuckthemancers]

[Wow he is out like a fucking light]

[Yeah his body has kind of needed this sleep for a long while.]

[evacuate]

[VICTORY, and she even allows herself a little celebratory fist pump.]

Sleep tight. [And, humming softly to herself, she sets to work folding the clothes and rearranging them in a line of piles in rainbow color order. Gotta keep herself busy somehow.]

[fuckthemancers]

[For an hour or two, that advice seems to work. Zulf is sound asleep, curled just slightly into himself. It's a quiet while.]

[Eventually, however, that starts to shift. The slightly-concerned-but-still-worried expression on Zulf's face starts to lose its calm quality. His brows start to furrow all the harder, and he starts to curl up into something more like a ball than just relaxed. He's always been a bit pale as an Ura but he seems to get all the paler right now.]

[evacuate]

[Zia's finished sorting out the clothes—rainbow order across; shirts, pants, skirts, and everything else in separate piles down—and is seating in a pile of pillows, re-braiding her hair for the eighth time or so when he starts to stir.]

Zulf? [With flowers still between her fingers, she crawls forward to sit by him. It's like there's a contest to look like he's dying that he's trying to win; she clutches her hands up to her chest and bites her lip.] Zulf. [She holds her hand out, hesitates, and grabs and gently shakes his shoulder.] Zulf, wake up.

[fuckthemancers]

[It doesn't take much more than a light touch to make him jerk up with a gasp, right back to shaking worse than an earthquake. Immediately, once he's over himself, he grabs at her hands as if he's looking for something.]

[evacuate]

It's okay. It's okay. [She takes his hands and squeezes them, as if to prove her presence.] I'm right here. It's all right.

[fuckthemancers]

[He's still looking over them, jaw clenched and eyes wide, triple checking until he finally just lets out a breath he's been holding. Shakily he holds her hand tight and rests his head against her shoulders.]

[evacuate]

I'm right here. [She takes one hand away to give him half a hug with that arm.] It's okay. I'm sorry.

[fuckthemancers]

[A shake of his head, breathing still rapid and shallow but slowly starting to return to normal. He doesn't understand why she's apologizing- won't accept it. This is all his fault he's sure.]

[evacuate]

Sorry. [Maybe she shouldn't be, but having him shake like that makes her feel guilty for ever trying to get him to sleep, even though she knows staying up all the time is just making things worse.] Don't worry, everything's okay. Do you need anything from me?

[fuckthemancers]

[He starts to shake his head, only to pause before nodding. All he does, however, is lean into her closer with his head on her shoulder.]

[He just needs to know she's still okay. Still here.]