pyrighteous | [OOC] Folkmore IC Inbox

[ Hunter watches Draxum for a moment. Not poison, then - not that he thinks Draxum would poison him? But. Hunter does indeed drink it. It tastes nice? Gingery and minty ... His face never has a lot of color to it, but some returns as he swallows, at least. He feels a bit revived from the tea.

When he gets a chance, he offers his hand to Draxum to help him sit up the rest of the way. ]

That tea is nice.

[He keeps trying on his own for half a second, before giving in and accepting the hand. Hunter doesn't seem the type who'll belittle him for needing it later. Being able to drink his tea upright and by his own power ends up higher on his list of priorities.]

It's one of my... [huff] favorites, yes. Who says medicine... [huff] has to taste bad? Sure, when you suck at making it.

[Draxum exhales slowly, letting that fresh wave of pain sitting up brought with it ebb out as he catches his breath. As it dies down again, he reaches out to tug the second blanket free from his bedding and lazily tosses it over at Hunter. Only about half of it ends up hitting him, but he figures close enough.]

If you're cold.

[Previous attempts making a portal always wore Draxum out to the bone, and left him feeling lightheaded and chilled for hours. He's hoping the energy he gave the boy from that gem has mitigated that somewhat, but he regrets not thinking of offering it sooner.]

Edited (html) 2024-02-29 17:40 (UTC)

[ Definitely not the type, no. Part of the reason being that Belos would have murdered him, literally, but also just his general authority respect in general. It simply will not occur to him.

Hunter sticks close, watching for - oh okay blanket. He can catch that and wrap it around himself. He DOES feel a little cold now that he thinks about it. ]

I - uh, I've never had medicine before.

[That gives Draxum pause.]

Are grimwalkers incapable of getting ill?

[The answer's probably there in that document he was reading, but he was skimming for the relevant parts before. He hasn't yet read it in full.]

Nnno I've. Definitely been sick.

[ So, you know, Belos fuckery again. ]

I wasn't allowed to go to the Healing Coven unless I was dying.

[He had a feeling that was going to be the case, just with. You know. Belos fuckery indeed. If he was going to treat Hunter as little better than a tool, he should have at least maintained him properly. That he didn't speaks volumes for his character.

Truly, Belos's cruelty negligence knows no bounds. Draxum will not be the same.]

That changes from here on. If you are ever sick or injured, seek me out. The hour does not matter; I will make time for you.

[ Look. On this point, Belos had a TINY bit of logic: a healing coven would have realized Hunter was a grimwalker pretty quickly. But also the horrible character yes. Anyway.

Hunter can't help but brighten a little. Of course Rue would help too, he's sure of it, but... ]

Yeah? I - guess you would bet the one who could do the most.

[ Mr. plant druid alchemist. ]

[TOUCHE. Draxum would still judge him though for not being able to do shit for Hunter himself, smh. What do you mean not all of us can have a doctorate level education in like 15 different sciences, sounds like a skill issue.]

In a life or death emergency, a proper healer might be able to do more for you. Healing magic is the one magic I could never use, no matter how much effort I put into it.

[His own skill issue, sigh. Hunter should at least be aware of it, when choosing who to go to.]

But I taught myself every skill needed to compensate for that weakness, and came to see the benefits science can provide that magic cannot. In another life, I might have made a good medicine maker or doctor.

[Combined with his botany specialty, he's very well-suited for fielding any health concern might have, yes. He'll have to see if he'd be willing to sit down for a check-up, when all of this is over. Hunter could probably use one, Draxum thinks as he sips at his tea. They should see about getting some real color into his complexion. Airlines would charge money for those bags under his eyes, too.]

[ It's good to know, at least, though Hunter doesn't think that disqualifies Draxum here. And he is 1000% overdue for a checkup. ]

Then - I'll come to you. Yeah. I think I'm pretty different from witches and humans so.

[With everything he's learned, he can only agree. That being said, it makes him surprisingly happy that Hunter would make that choice so plainly, without even a little doubt. Draxum drinks the rest of his tea with the ghost of a smile.]

Different is one way to put it. I'd call you a marvel.

[ At that, Hunter instinctively hunches his shoulders. ]

You mean a monster.

No. I said marvel, and I meant it.

[He sets his cup aside.]

Some would see the turtles as monsters. They do not fit into the world of the humans, and if my kind knew how they were made, they would consider them unnatural and taboo.

But they are my greatest creations. I lost sight of that once, but I won't do so again.

[He risks laying a hand on Hunter's shoulder.] You're no monster, Hunter. Not from my perspective. You're just as special as they are.

[ Hunter stares down at the teacup in his hand, mouth twitching at turning into a frown. It's nice to hear that. That he's not a monster the way grimwalkers are always spoken of being. Monstrous copies of the dead, corruptions of who the person was, violent and unpredictable...

He allows the hand but still droops. ]

I'm a copy of someone, though. Someone dead.

Why is that a bad thing?

[Draxum's not being flippant; the response is measured. He's asking Hunter to explain why that's wrong. Whether the answer is cultural, or values, or something more personal, his response will be different depending.]

I -

[ It's a valid question? Hunter had instinctively gone to clone bad without fully interrogating it. ]

Well - I mean - it means that I was created for the wrong reasons. And I'm never going to be as good as the person I was copied from. Grimwalkers are horrible crimes against the natural order of things.

[Some of those words strike a harder chord in Draxum than the others. He looks askance for a moment, considering his words with more care than he normally takes.]

Existence itself is not a crime, Hunter. Belos may have committed a crime in creating you, but those charges should not be passed down to you just for being the end result. If the authorities if your world disagree with me on this, they are wrong.

[He says this definitively, in a tone that brokers no argument. Draxum's mind is on the turtles again, and on what he'd say to them if they felt this way.]

A crime cannot be committed without choice—and there is not a soul alive who gets to decide how they are born. You may have been created for the wrong reasons, Hunter, just as my boys were, but here you are. No one gets to tell you that you don't deserve to exist just for being made differently than they were. If they persist, they aren't worth your time. There are plenty of people who like having you around. Surround yourself with them instead.

[Draxum spares a glance at Flapjack, certain that the palisman is one of those people. Be a pal and back him up on this.]

As for this good or bad measuring up nonsense... [He lifts his hand from Hunter's shoulder to flick him in the forehead. For more reasons than one, there's no strength behind it; just a soft reprimand.]

The difference between an original and a forgery only matters to snobs. I don't know who you were copied from, and I don't care. When I met you, I was reminded of how much I once wished I could have someone like you at my side.

[Draxum lays his hand back down on Hunter's shoulder again, taking a second to catch his breath. The air whistles faintly on every inhale. This has been a lot of talking, but he's almost done.]

You're good enough by your own merits, Hunter. If I were presented with the original, I would still choose the copy.

[ Hunter squeezes his eyes shut as he listens to all of that. Existence itself is not a crime. Well - he can't really argue with that, can he? Because Draxum is right: Hunter didn't commit any kind of crime. If a crime was committed at all, then it was Belos doing it, right?

It occurs to Hunter that maybe Belos heavily criminalized it so that he could keep all the supplies for himself. Galdorstones were rare, after all, and palistrom wood ... Belos had used up SO much of the forest. Hadn't he.

He looks over at Flapjack, who peeps something encouraging and flutters to his shoulder. All the headbunts for his best friend.

And then he yelps as he gets flicked in the forehead.]

I - still - hey!!

[ He rubs a little at his forehead. Not the least bit hurt, of course. It gives him a moment to take in the rest - and maybe try not to cry this time. ]

You mean it? You - really thought that?

[ Like yes, okay, obviously there's supervillain reasons for wanting a Hunter at your side, but that's exactly why it strikes a chord with Draxum. This is all he ever really wanted from Belos. Just - acknowledgement, and being valued, and maybe the tiniest scrap of love. ]

[If Draxum had access to Hunter's train of thought regarding criminalizing the creation of grimwalkers so he could hog the items needed to make one to himself, he'd agree. Mostly because that's something his old self would have done, if he had any authority to enforce it.

(The Rise universe is a safer place, really, knowing the best he could do in the past was steal a few tiny vials of Empyrean over the decades. Who knows what he would've done with unlimited access.)

But that's neither here nor there. At Hunter's question Draxum sighs, like he thought it would be obvious.]

I offered to take you on as an apprentice then and there, didn't I?

[Hunter might recall that in the very same breath, Draxum had also admitted to never having had one of those before. Casey's grandfather might have had one in Michelangelo, but for this Draxum? Hunter is the very first person he made that offer to.

Between his words then and now, Draxum thinks that's plenty of proof that he means what he said.]

[ Hunter pinks at that. ]

You - you did. Yeah.

[ No denying that either. No denying that it had seemed strange and new to Draxum at the time as well. ]

... All right. You might be right then.

Might.

[Don't doubt him, gosh. He huffs, leaning against the tree wall behind him for support. The knots and jagged edges of the wood aren't the most comfortable, but he doesn't want to lie back down when they're having this kind of conversation. Draxum gives Hunter's shoulder a small shake, then drops his hand.]

Sound more convinced. [The next huff sounds more amused, though. That was a joke, apparently. This next part isn't, though as he looks over Hunter.] What else is bothering you?

[He still seems quiet. Glum.]

Edited (wanted a different icon, gomen) 2024-03-02 00:26 (UTC)

[ LOOK. Look. Might is very good for Hunter. Might is a LOT of progress.

He drops down to sit next to Draxum, still sipping at his tea. ]

I guess - well. It all goes back to Belos, I guess.

[ Everything always does. ]

All those reasons I listed wouldn't have mattered if he didn't make me feel them.

[Draxum hums, thinking he understands better now.] You have a lot to unlearn. It won't be easy, or happen overnight.

[His nerves are starting to feel less like they're on fire, so that's nice. Now if the headache and the pain in his chest would just subside. He feels like someone punched him from the inside out, and didn't stop there.]

But Belos isn't here anymore. You're not under his thumb. [And hopefully things stay that way. If they don't, and he comes here—well, they'll cross that bridge if they get to it.] How do you want to feel about yourself?

[ How DOES he want to feel about himself? Thats' a potent question all on its own. Hunter winds up rubbing at the back of his neck as he tries to think it through. ]

Good, I guess? Pride. And - I like feeling useful, but ... maybe not like that's not all I'm good for.

[ His expression goes rather soft. ]

I like feeling like Rue's son and Casey's boyfriend.

It's... [How does he put this. He thinks, and settles on:] nice, finding out there's more to who we are than the roles life carved out for us.

[He goes quiet for a second, expression softening, but distant.]

I like being a father.

[He's very new at it, and not a very good one yet, but the sentiment is there all the same.]

[A beat, then:] Don't tell anyone I said that.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

no subject