Everyone's in danger. ❰ it's simpler than lying and saying he'll be fine.
a breath, then another, then he's pushing back up to his feet to keep moving. ❱ I'm coming, ❰ he says, but not without insisting: ❱ Tell me you'll stay away from the forest.
( It would be a lie to say that it isn't a thought that crosses his mind, running roughshod into the forest. It would also be a lie to say he cares equally about everyone else versus his friend, at least immediately. Selfishly.
Both of those thoughts are irresponsible, however, and so all he can do is agree. ) I'll stay away. I'll tell Honir. Stop worrying about that, just run.
Okay. ❰ that's all there is left to say. a second later, he's hung up the call. ❱
❰ something like twelve hours later, as the afternoon light starts to fade, lalli finds himself at the edge of the woods. he can't take another step, and it has very little to do with the very real threat of his legs giving out.
( If Emil wasn't on edge before, the fact that he is now is a certainty. The past half day has been one where he can't even function around the house. He did his duty of telling Honir, and now it's a waiting game. For more information, but namely for Lalli.
When the text comes in, he's in bed, halfheartedly attempting to pick up his knitting for the first time in a month. It's stupidly easy to abandon in favour of reading whatever news Lalli offers. )
( He thought that confirmation for either of his questions would be hard. Something that had the potential to be handled, but hard.
This...they pale in comparison. Any response doesn't come immediately. Emil has to take time to process that, amid a flurry of spoken words that Lalli can't hear over text messages. Very raw and desperate words that his continuously tested optimism can't suppress. Whatever these creatures are, they're different from what they have in the Silent World, but that doesn't stop those visions from entering his brain, looping over and over. Their smell is suddenly so vivid, the high-pitched scratch of the duskling's voices present again.
Lalli can't become anything like that. Can't become anything even close to the realm of some creature like that. He refuses, as futile as that may end up being. )
I need to see you Right now
( It goes against everything that he knows, every safety protocol. That doesn't matter. Fuck protocol. Fuck whether or not he's being an A-Class idiot. If there's no immunity, and Lalli is...no. He can't let it end like this. )
( Reading that expected stubbornness does nothing but frustrate Emil more. It's not Lalli's fault, he can't be mad at him -- he knows this is how things are supposed to be.
Klaus had unnecessarily reminded him the other day that he personally might not live to see the next day, but the concept of Lalli's mortality might have been a better way to shake him to sense. No, perhaps not...Emil isn't unaware that of the two of them, the one most likely to die...
That pushed away expectation is now potentially going to be shattered.
With so much circling his head, a flash of something selfish pops up, born from 'now or never' desperation, but it's also shaken off just as quickly. No, any negative reaction would just make this situation all the more awful. That's his business. This has to be all about Lalli, and so several sentences have been typed and deleted, typed, deleted.
It might not even happen, but the possibility of infection is so much more dire than the possibility of normalcy. )
Talk to me then
If it's going to happen, I want to be there until it does.
❰ he agrees readily. it means emil's stopped fighting him, stopped trying to march out and find him, and he'll take it.
but now the time comes to talk and he can't bring himself to dredge up another innocuous distracting anecdote. he hasn't run out, but his mind feels empty. slow. is this part of it? is it happening already? ❱
a girl might show up in asgard. don't know when. she has my bag
if the man's with her, don't let him into the city. got scratched deeper than i did. if i change then so will he
( If Lalli is infected with something, every sentence he could send denotes his mental state is present, running on some cylinder. If he falls asleep, passes out from blood loss, well. Emil would be none the wiser, as he has no idea where Lalli is. That doesn't mean it stops the responses from giving him the tiniest breadth of hope. )
Alright. I'll go into the city later, try to keep an eye out
( Acting so utilitarian about all of this, however, comes with its own type of pain. He doesn't want to talk about anything like this right now. What he would like to talk about...that's impossible to even suss out at the moment. )
where did it get you?( That's definitely not the answer to that question, but he has to know. )
( Only typed after he makes an unconscious, almost inhuman noise that would be hard to replicate if he tried. The back of a hand rubs at his mouth after, aware that he himself made that very low and hallow sound. There's a repeating loop in his mind that says "it might not mean anything," that's constantly being drowned out by a fast and shrieking "you're losing him." )
Please don't blame yourself Lalli, you didnt do anything wrong
( The sudden comment about a rug illicit a manic laugh from Emil, stung by something even so mundane. Despite being so bland, it feels dramatic. Who knows if he'll ever find out about this mysterious rug, which just makes it spill out that much more. A rug, of all the things.
Maybe it's that stupid laugh that causes Tuuri to peek in, though most likely it was that awful noise he barely remembers making moments ago. She asks what's wrong, his face and voice obviously already betraying that things aren't as they should be. Lalli's text is ignored in the meantime to make way for his rushed and sloppy explanation of what all he knows, then Tuuri offering her own knowledge, much more calmly.
What all she has to say is lost on him. Once he's asked about contagion parameters and been reassured that they aren't a concern with these creatures, any other information Tuuri might have is secondary. Even if his "I've got to go," might be seen as rude, his mind is too excited to process much of what is left to be said. )
You're not ifected Tuuri just said She knows, ill explain Where are yo
( It's only half-typed as he's rushing out of the door, looking from left to right, not knowing what direction he should even go in despite his legs absolutely itching, dying to move as fast as he possibly can. )
❰ he rereads emil's texts, then again, but it takes entirely too long to wrap his head around what's said. he isn't infected. how would tuuri know he isn't infected?
except right this second, that doesn't even matter. something both buoyant and heavy swells in his chest, and he's pushing himself back to his feet to make his way back to the edge of the woods. ❱
sigyn i think
coming home
❰ it's in a bit of a daze that he's leaving the woods, in part because he's no longer certain he's less than 24 hours from death, but also because as the fear drains from him, it feels like it takes the entirety of his skeletal structure along with it. he's been running too long, his knees feel like they're going to give out on any given step he takes.
he slips the compass out of his pocket to peer at it, double-checking his heading. at the very least, he knows for a fact that he's headed the right way. ❱
( There's absolutely no time to text him a full and complete explanation of things, not with how fast his heart and feet are going as soon as he gets some idea of where Lalli is. Sigyn is as directly across from Honir as it can get, but that's nothing exact. He doesn't want to get lost or miss him, accidentally ducking into Skadi's land somehow in his fluster.
As he stands in one of the main archways within the city portion of Honir, one pathway that Lalli can't miss if he's headed home, his legs still tingle with movement. If he could somehow pinpoint exactly where Lalli was without getting lost in a cornfield, he'd run there absolutely.
For as good of news as this is, Emil's brain is still on edge. Lower levels of emotionality could have been suppressed more easily; he'd calm down if this wasn't such a dauntingly long haul of anxiety. Capped off with the pressing fear that his best friend -- someone he truly does love -- would be turned into a creature? And then what might have to happen from there...trolls beget other types of trolls, so on and so forth.
That's a lot to try and shove away, while he waits. )
❰ it takes... too long, honestly. lalli's not entirely aware of the passing of time at this point, feet moving on autopilot in the homeward direction, but to emil? it probably seems like an eternity.
but eventually, his familiar figure can be seen rounding a corner. his sleeve is bloody, and his feet all but drag with each rhythmic thoughtless step. emil almost certainly spots him long before he notices emil, but once the swede moves, lalli's eyes lift to the oncoming figure, and a sort of exhausted relief washes over his usually guarded expression just in time for his knees to finally drop out from under him.
he's not collapsing all the way, but he's miles past his ability to stay on his feet so he'll be waiting on his knees and his dirty palms for emil to reach him. ❱
( It's true, but who can blame him? Lalli is distracted by the exhaustion of what sounded like a hellscape, while Emil is so much more alert and wired. The only reason he doesn't move sooner is the sudden overload of the image of his friend. Weary, bloody, defeated.
Enough so to come close to fully collapsing, just as he finds it in himself to rush forward, clearing the short distance quickly to almost skid to a kneel before the scout, brain suddenly unsure of where to start first. )
Oh, Lalli. ( Said with what can barely count as relief; his brain is still processing and diminishing the threat level that was once present, and even without some contagion to contend with? He's so worse for wear. The wound should be addressed somehow, at home, but there's a question of getting there. Lalli won't be walking again anytime soon, but that's not been a problem before. To ease the pressure of keeping himself up, Emil takes one hand under his good arm and the other to grab a handful of his shirt, pulling him forward so he can be used as something to lean into. He couldn't possibly begin to understand that level of panic and exhaustion; Emil has been pushed before, but not like this.
Looking down at Lalli, who he couldn't say looks so small and fragile at the moment, the process in his mind grinds to a halt. So much solace has combined with the stress of the past couple of days, with the true picture of it all finally pushing something to a tipping point. ) It's okay, you can go home now. ( Except it's very choppy and cracked, throat dry and trying to subconsciously force a sob from breaking free, though it's inevitable. There's no need to get choked up about this, he thinks for a second. Dirty, bloody, whatever -- at least Lalli is alive, and will stay that way. )
❰ and emil's tugging and pulling get absolutely zero resistance - not because he can't, but because he doesn't want to. he lets his weight sag into the sturdy support that his friend has to offer. his knees belatedly follow so he can at least pretend to support himself, clumsily settling beside emil's thighs as the hand of his good arm hooks up around the back of emil's head and his own forehead rests heavily in the hollow above a clavicle. his next exhale is shudder, the slow release of a day and a half of constant tension and fear he couldn't quite ignore. emil's breathing is unsteady, too. lalli doesn't quite process that it isn't the same.
'you can go home now.' the words were said a few seconds ago but only now sink in, and lalli's brow flickers sharply. he's not sure if he can, he barely stayed on his feet this long. ❱
I can try, ❰ he murmurs, with significantly more determination than he actually has in him right now. ❱ Just... need a minute.
( The feeble voice can't fool Emil, determination or not. It could have been a direct command to leave him alone, he's got this, and it wouldn't have been followed. Luckily Lalli makes this easy enough in a number of ways.
For starters, he's already basically collected the top half of him, shifting some weight back to his feet, Emil scoops his friend's legs closer before hooking them into his arm. A moment of readjustment is all it takes to stand up with him in tow. That's also helpful -- his weight is light enough as it is, but it's even less noticeable when most of his muscles have strained to the point of give. )
Stop trying. ( The task at hand has given Emil enough momentary resolve to keep his voice in check, switching to something that stops just short of being chiding; more a reassurance that if Lalli puts all that effort on hold for just an evening, his world won't collapse around him. ) You've been though enough already.
( There's no time or desire to hear any objections, should they come out. One more heft to make sure everything is secure, his one arm grasping more tightly to properly hold Lalli's chest up. Then it's a quick turn on his heel to begin walking them the couple of kilometres home. )
❰ 'stop trying.' lalli doesn't know how. already he's trying to pull together the energy to get back on his feet, a notion he only really manages to recognize as futile when he's hauled up into emil's arms. this is going to be exhausting, to carry lalli all the way back. the finn isn't even positive how far they have left to go, but he recognizes the fact that the entirety of his weight is supported by emil's two arms (instead of his back, like last time). he opens his mouth to object, but no words come.
maybe he'll just have to let emil do this.
the concept... comforts him, more than he expected it to. the faint residual tension he's held thus far melts out of his back and his limbs. his head shifts, adjusting to his new position, forehead falling instead into crook where emil's neck meets his shoulder.
it feels like the only thing keeping him from floating away.
which prompts him, in the interest of practicality, to mutter, ❱ Wake me up if I need to walk. ❰ because he's going to try not to pass out, but he also recognizes the futility of that struggle. ❱
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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a breath, then another, then he's pushing back up to his feet to keep moving. ❱ I'm coming, ❰ he says, but not without insisting: ❱ Tell me you'll stay away from the forest.
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Both of those thoughts are irresponsible, however, and so all he can do is agree. ) I'll stay away. I'll tell Honir. Stop worrying about that, just run.
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❰ something like twelve hours later, as the afternoon light starts to fade, lalli finds himself at the edge of the woods. he can't take another step, and it has very little to do with the very real threat of his legs giving out.
this time, emil gets a clumsy text. ❱
have to stay outhere i thnk
sorry
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When the text comes in, he's in bed, halfheartedly attempting to pick up his knitting for the first time in a month. It's stupidly easy to abandon in favour of reading whatever news Lalli offers. )
Are you still a ways away? Trapped ?
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❰ that's the only answer for a minute. he can hardly think, let alone find the words to say - ❱
scratched. drew blood
dont thnk any of us are immune tothis
cant come back until i know
until i change or i dont
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This...they pale in comparison. Any response doesn't come immediately. Emil has to take time to process that, amid a flurry of spoken words that Lalli can't hear over text messages. Very raw and desperate words that his continuously tested optimism can't suppress. Whatever these creatures are, they're different from what they have in the Silent World, but that doesn't stop those visions from entering his brain, looping over and over. Their smell is suddenly so vivid, the high-pitched scratch of the duskling's voices present again.
Lalli can't become anything like that. Can't become anything even close to the realm of some creature like that. He refuses, as futile as that may end up being. )
I need to see you
Right now
( It goes against everything that he knows, every safety protocol. That doesn't matter. Fuck protocol. Fuck whether or not he's being an A-Class idiot. If there's no immunity, and Lalli is...no. He can't let it end like this. )
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❰ he'd thought it was already difficult to catch his breathe, but sending one little word manages to make it infinitely more so. ❱
told me you'd stay away from the woods, remember
so stay away
please
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ill stand ten feet away, whatever I need to do
( That's a lie. An obvious one. )
you can't do this alone
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❰ he's not going to let emil risk his own life just because lalli was stupid. he refuses. ❱
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Klaus had unnecessarily reminded him the other day that he personally might not live to see the next day, but the concept of Lalli's mortality might have been a better way to shake him to sense. No, perhaps not...Emil isn't unaware that of the two of them, the one most likely to die...
That pushed away expectation is now potentially going to be shattered.
With so much circling his head, a flash of something selfish pops up, born from 'now or never' desperation, but it's also shaken off just as quickly. No, any negative reaction would just make this situation all the more awful. That's his business. This has to be all about Lalli, and so several sentences have been typed and deleted, typed, deleted.
It might not even happen, but the possibility of infection is so much more dire than the possibility of normalcy. )
Talk to me then
If it's going to happen, I want to be there until it does.
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❰ he agrees readily. it means emil's stopped fighting him, stopped trying to march out and find him, and he'll take it.
but now the time comes to talk and he can't bring himself to dredge up another innocuous distracting anecdote. he hasn't run out, but his mind feels empty. slow. is this part of it? is it happening already? ❱
a girl might show up in asgard. don't know when. she has my bag
if the man's with her, don't let him into the city. got scratched deeper than i did. if i change then so will he
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Alright. I'll go into the city later, try to keep an eye out
( Acting so utilitarian about all of this, however, comes with its own type of pain. He doesn't want to talk about anything like this right now. What he would like to talk about...that's impossible to even suss out at the moment. )
where did it get you? ( That's definitely not the answer to that question, but he has to know. )
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barely looked dead. didn't expect it to claw so hard
❰ they were just fingernails. it doesn't make sense. ❱
i'm sorry
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( Only typed after he makes an unconscious, almost inhuman noise that would be hard to replicate if he tried. The back of a hand rubs at his mouth after, aware that he himself made that very low and hallow sound. There's a repeating loop in his mind that says "it might not mean anything," that's constantly being drowned out by a fast and shrieking "you're losing him." )
Please don't blame yourself Lalli, you didnt do anything wrong
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i'm so stupid
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Youre not stupid you're the most capable person I know. Please dont spend time thinking like that if it might run out soon
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❰ it's not. he's still so, so stupid. ❱
think i found you a rug. forgot to tell you before i left
❰ a suitably stupid thing to talk about now, of all times. ❱
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Maybe it's that stupid laugh that causes Tuuri to peek in, though most likely it was that awful noise he barely remembers making moments ago. She asks what's wrong, his face and voice obviously already betraying that things aren't as they should be. Lalli's text is ignored in the meantime to make way for his rushed and sloppy explanation of what all he knows, then Tuuri offering her own knowledge, much more calmly.
What all she has to say is lost on him. Once he's asked about contagion parameters and been reassured that they aren't a concern with these creatures, any other information Tuuri might have is secondary. Even if his "I've got to go," might be seen as rude, his mind is too excited to process much of what is left to be said. )
You're not ifected Tuuri just said
She knows, ill explain
Where are yo
( It's only half-typed as he's rushing out of the door, looking from left to right, not knowing what direction he should even go in despite his legs absolutely itching, dying to move as fast as he possibly can. )
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what
❰ he rereads emil's texts, then again, but it takes entirely too long to wrap his head around what's said. he isn't infected. how would tuuri know he isn't infected?
except right this second, that doesn't even matter. something both buoyant and heavy swells in his chest, and he's pushing himself back to his feet to make his way back to the edge of the woods. ❱
sigyn i think
coming home
❰ it's in a bit of a daze that he's leaving the woods, in part because he's no longer certain he's less than 24 hours from death, but also because as the fear drains from him, it feels like it takes the entirety of his skeletal structure along with it. he's been running too long, his knees feel like they're going to give out on any given step he takes.
he slips the compass out of his pocket to peer at it, double-checking his heading. at the very least, he knows for a fact that he's headed the right way. ❱
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As he stands in one of the main archways within the city portion of Honir, one pathway that Lalli can't miss if he's headed home, his legs still tingle with movement. If he could somehow pinpoint exactly where Lalli was without getting lost in a cornfield, he'd run there absolutely.
For as good of news as this is, Emil's brain is still on edge. Lower levels of emotionality could have been suppressed more easily; he'd calm down if this wasn't such a dauntingly long haul of anxiety. Capped off with the pressing fear that his best friend -- someone he truly does love -- would be turned into a creature? And then what might have to happen from there...trolls beget other types of trolls, so on and so forth.
That's a lot to try and shove away, while he waits. )
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but eventually, his familiar figure can be seen rounding a corner. his sleeve is bloody, and his feet all but drag with each rhythmic thoughtless step. emil almost certainly spots him long before he notices emil, but once the swede moves, lalli's eyes lift to the oncoming figure, and a sort of exhausted relief washes over his usually guarded expression just in time for his knees to finally drop out from under him.
he's not collapsing all the way, but he's miles past his ability to stay on his feet so he'll be waiting on his knees and his dirty palms for emil to reach him. ❱
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Enough so to come close to fully collapsing, just as he finds it in himself to rush forward, clearing the short distance quickly to almost skid to a kneel before the scout, brain suddenly unsure of where to start first. )
Oh, Lalli. ( Said with what can barely count as relief; his brain is still processing and diminishing the threat level that was once present, and even without some contagion to contend with? He's so worse for wear. The wound should be addressed somehow, at home, but there's a question of getting there. Lalli won't be walking again anytime soon, but that's not been a problem before. To ease the pressure of keeping himself up, Emil takes one hand under his good arm and the other to grab a handful of his shirt, pulling him forward so he can be used as something to lean into. He couldn't possibly begin to understand that level of panic and exhaustion; Emil has been pushed before, but not like this.
Looking down at Lalli, who he couldn't say looks so small and fragile at the moment, the process in his mind grinds to a halt. So much solace has combined with the stress of the past couple of days, with the true picture of it all finally pushing something to a tipping point. ) It's okay, you can go home now. ( Except it's very choppy and cracked, throat dry and trying to subconsciously force a sob from breaking free, though it's inevitable. There's no need to get choked up about this, he thinks for a second. Dirty, bloody, whatever -- at least Lalli is alive, and will stay that way. )
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'you can go home now.' the words were said a few seconds ago but only now sink in, and lalli's brow flickers sharply. he's not sure if he can, he barely stayed on his feet this long. ❱
I can try, ❰ he murmurs, with significantly more determination than he actually has in him right now. ❱ Just... need a minute.
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For starters, he's already basically collected the top half of him, shifting some weight back to his feet, Emil scoops his friend's legs closer before hooking them into his arm. A moment of readjustment is all it takes to stand up with him in tow. That's also helpful -- his weight is light enough as it is, but it's even less noticeable when most of his muscles have strained to the point of give. )
Stop trying. ( The task at hand has given Emil enough momentary resolve to keep his voice in check, switching to something that stops just short of being chiding; more a reassurance that if Lalli puts all that effort on hold for just an evening, his world won't collapse around him. ) You've been though enough already.
( There's no time or desire to hear any objections, should they come out. One more heft to make sure everything is secure, his one arm grasping more tightly to properly hold Lalli's chest up. Then it's a quick turn on his heel to begin walking them the couple of kilometres home. )
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maybe he'll just have to let emil do this.
the concept... comforts him, more than he expected it to. the faint residual tension he's held thus far melts out of his back and his limbs. his head shifts, adjusting to his new position, forehead falling instead into crook where emil's neck meets his shoulder.
it feels like the only thing keeping him from floating away.
which prompts him, in the interest of practicality, to mutter, ❱ Wake me up if I need to walk. ❰ because he's going to try not to pass out, but he also recognizes the futility of that struggle. ❱
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