A couple promised closed (or semi-closed) logs

[warriorscribe]

Characters: Enoch and Lucifel, and anyone who would visit his room too. Just let me know! Also, Enoch and Lancer.
Setting: Dorm 3-18 backdated to November 1st, Floor 62 backdated to December 1st
Format: I'll match!
Summary: Enoch has had something very unpleasant happen to him as a punishment for too many failed riddles. That is an understatement. Also, he and Lancer agreed to a sparring match.
Warnings: Talk of being flayed may happen if you press for information. (If this is one of your listed squicks I'll actively avoid it coming up), maybe blood or broken limbs in the sparring match? There is a tangent involving sexual discussion.


Dorm 3-18, November 1st


He woke with a scream.

Or tried to. In his sleep paralysis it was only a choked sound as he stared at the ceiling wide-eyed. Unable to move or speak, all he had was the nightmare he'd just lived, punctuated by Eleven's shrill screaming. All he had was that he was not in pain. Parts of him were still numb from revival, but he was not in pain.

An involuntary, low, distressed moan was what told him he could move again. Shaking and pale, he pushed himself up. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and his gaze was unfocused, glazed-over. He raised a hand, still numb and tingling, and pressed it to his own chest. With something between a laugh and a sob, he curled up on himself, a tight human ball on the bed.

Unlike the time that had given him such an adverse reaction, there was nothing driving him to keep going. Only the horror of what had happened.


Floor 62, December 1st

The beach had always been a calming place for him. That is, until his return to Meridian. As he waited for Lancer, he watched the waves, arms folded as his thoughts wandered. Mostly, they wandered to Armaros, and their time in Meridian. Time spent there, he on a large dune watching as Armaros swam.

And now, he was here. Torn apart. In so much pain he could only blame him.

A nautilus shell washed up against his foot. He bent down to pick it up, idly playing with it as he waited for Lancer, stewing in his own thoughts.

Comments

[brbtalkingtogod]

He smiled back at Enoch, holding the bottle still. could he really take it if he was still feeling numb in his hands and arms?

[warriorscribe]

He was certainly going to try. He reached over to grasp it with both hands. It felt like it was going to fall, like it could slip through his hands at any moment and he wouldn't be able to stop it.

But carefully, he started to pull it from Lucifel's grip. There was barely any force behind the pulling; he wasn't aware of how much strength he was really applying at any time. In his situation, he often had to rely on senses other than sight, and having to rely only on it was disorienting.

[brbtalkingtogod]

"... Are you sure you really don't need help?" Usually he wouldn't even insist, but since Enoch had a hard time using his hands - and wine stains could be a real pain - he thought it would be better to ask more than once for a change.

[warriorscribe]

"Y-you shouldn't have to feed me..." Carefully, his eyes trained on the bottle, he brought it close, put his lips to its rim, and began tilting it. Slowly, as slowly as he could.

Until the angle obscured his vision and it tipped too far, spilling wine over his chin and chest. The bottle slipped from his hands as he unconsciously let go in surprise, unable to feel it quickly enough to reverse it and hold on tighter.

[brbtalkingtogod]

Before the bottle could ruin Enoch's bed and jeans Lucifel had already snapped his fingers to stop time and grabbed the bottle with his right hand.

He then snapped with his fingers again for time to move and once more... to get a wet towel for Enoch. The archangel then started to wipe him clean with the towel in his left hand. "What had I said?"

[warriorscribe]

When suddenly, the falling bottle wasn't there anymore, he looked over at Lucifel...only to be met with a wet cloth against his chin, He sighed defeatedly, averting his eyes in embarrassment as he waited for Lucifel to finish cleaning him. His fingers flexed, trying to coax feeling back into them and shake off that tingling.

[brbtalkingtogod]

Next he cleaned Enoch's chest, still holding the bottle in his other hand. That took his duty as Enoch's support to a new level, that was certain.

"No problem, everything is fine."

[warriorscribe]

New, embarrassing levels. He couldn't even feed himself in this state... If he was only numbed, he might have been able to, but with the way his hands kept shaking too, shaking and he couldn't even feel that...

He only looked at Lucifel again when he spoke, trying to smile for him, though it was shaky and clearly forced.

[brbtalkingtogod]

In all honesty, this would never top that one time he had to make sure that Enoch's hair was cleaned from the content of his stomach. Did he already mention Enoch vomiting with him around having been the worst thing in his role as his support so far?

Aside from gruesome images that is.

"... It's fine, really." He could tell if Enoch was forcing a smile or if it was genuine.

[warriorscribe]

That was the worst in another category entirely. And most certainly the cause of his inability to still his hands. He swallowed, inadvertently making a pathetic little sound in his throat. Still embarrassed at his helplessness, he nudged Lucifel with his shoulder, as if asking him to do something. At the very least help him get some wine in him, enough to calm him down.

[brbtalkingtogod]

He was about to, Lucifel just needed a moment to figure out how he could help Enoch with drinking the wine. But it seemed like there wouldn't be any other way than to feed him.

Once he figured out how to, Lucifel held the bottle against Enoch's bottom lip, carefully tilting it for the scribe to drink.

[warriorscribe]

Trying to ignore how much he feared he must look like a suckling calf, he tilted his head up a little to drink, his hands unconsciously clenching as he tried to keep himself calm.

Eventually, he pushed the bottle away with his mouth. "...Do you want to drink, too?"

[brbtalkingtogod]

As odd as it was, Lucifel didn't think much about how Enoch looked like as he fed him. When the scribe pushed the bottle away the archangel took a sip first, grimacing a little but then a swig from it.

"I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to the taste..."

[warriorscribe]

"The taste? This is much better tasting than the wine from my time..."

A pause. "...And you should drink it slowly, so it's less overwhelming."

[brbtalkingtogod]

"Not like I would know..." Remember Enoch, he didn't have much experience with alcohol and the like until he came to the Tower.

However, Lucifel took the scribe's advice to heart and drank slower then.

[warriorscribe]

"Mm..." Enoch looked up at Lucifel as he drank, leaning sideways against him. "...You don't have to drink if you don't like the taste, still."

Children may take some time to get used to it, but they were often so eager to be like the adults in their lives they acquired the taste quickly. It wasn't the same with Lucifel, as much as he wanted drinking company, he would settle for simply drinking with company.

[brbtalkingtogod]

"I'll be fine." Who knew if he would ever get used to it. But he had decided to make this experience, so there was nothing wrong with it... right?

Later he will know if it's such a good thing for angel's to make a choice like that.

[warriorscribe]

Well, getting dead drunk is a thing humans shouldn't do so recklessly. Enoch isn't expecting so much out of Lucifel, with the restraint he showed in the party. Besides, it took much more than three bottles last time never mind he was drinking on a full stomach that time, so he thinks neither of them could get drunk on it. He's not really thinking at his best right now.

So he leans against Lucifel, watching, patiently waiting for him to decide it was time to switch to him again.

[brbtalkingtogod]

The reason Lucifel had not joined the drinking feast on that day sat right next to him. But since they would be staying in his room together there was no reason to worry. At the time being at least.

The archangel held the bottle against the scribe's lips again as soon as he was done. "Tell me when you're ready."

[warriorscribe]

"'m ready," he mumbled against the bottle, tilting his head a little to drink again. Already, his hands weren't shaking as much, and his distress had begun to ebb.

[brbtalkingtogod]

With the okay of the scribe he tilted the bottle slowly, so he could take a sip without choking on it. And there were still two bottles to go.

[warriorscribe]

Eventually, he reached up and took hold of the bottle, himself - the feeling in his limbs was back. But he stayed leaning against Lucifel, looking up at him as he offered the now mostly-drained bottle back.

[brbtalkingtogod]

Glad to see that Enoch could hold the bottle on his own again he took it from Enoch and drank what had remained. His eyes were focused on the bottle for a moment before he put the empty bottle away and grabbed a new one.

Might as well test his limits today.

[warriorscribe]

And by the time they'd drained that bottle between them, Enoch is resting his head on Lucifel's shoulder, his arms around his torso except when he has the bottle.

"You're a good friend..."

While I write that essay... and I can't stay serious. XD

[brbtalkingtogod]

The third bottle was opened soon as well and on the best way to end up drained like the two before it. Lucifel had wrapped one arm around Enoch and slowly started to show signs of slowly but certainly becoming drunk.

"No, you're a good friend Enoch..."