• Memory • Bored

[Ichabod Hyde]

6 9 - A S H A N - 7 1 8 . . . N A S H A K I

_{“I'm bored, I'm coming with you.”}

Hyde didn't know why the young biqaj seemed intent to follow him... but there had to be a reason? A reason he couldn't recall due to the blacked-out nature of the past several inebriated trials. Time had started to blur together too. He had shrugged but he hadn't told the biqaj to shove off or leave him alone. He hadn't said much of anything, in either direction. Except for a small mention that he needed to find a new place to stay and a job to pay for it and quick regardless of how drunk he was and all of that was summed in the single word he spoke as he stepped out of the inn and onto the street: "Nel."

Rucksack over one shoulder, coat over the other, he walked along and let the odd tag-along keep up if he could (which wasn't difficult given that the older man ambled along in a weaving path near one side of the street. Still, he didn't bump into anything in an almost miraculous way given how drunk he was.) His face was red from the heat, under the grayed stubble, and his brown eyes flitted back and forth to examine the buildings while they meandered at his lead.

At least, for a handful of few bits... until Hyde stopped without warning. He let the rucksack and the coat fall to the ground, then he pulled off his shirt. He bundled it up, tossed it aside and took a deep breath of the warm night air.

"Better," he said. It felt cooler without the fabric over him. He started a few steps ahead, then retraced in recollection that his belongings were left in the road. He folded and shoved the coat along with the shirt into the top of the rucksack and then slung it on his shoulder again. He stared at...

"What was... your name?" he gave in and just asked, tired of not knowing or remembering. It might hurt the youth's feelings to know he was forgotten, but what else did he expect from a drunk man like Hyde? Something. Pointy-Ears expected something, else he wouldn't have followed like he had or helped with the fight like he had. Hyde just didn't know what it was.

Bored, that had what the frizzy-haired youth had claimed. Bored so he followed Hyde. Bored so he wanted to... ah, maybe he knew Hyde was a traveler. Maybe that was something shared on the forgotten night. Hyde glanced over him, then said, "Sorry."

...and he didn't explain that the apology was meant for the fact that he didn't want to tell any stories. It wasn't that he hadn't any, but they were stories that would stay with him - go to the grave with him - they weren't stories to speak aloud with strangers, acquaintances, or even friends. Hyde didn't tell stories and if that's what the colorful-eyed youth hoped for, then he was going to be disappointed. Though Hyde figured that the curious(?) biqaj was going to be disappointed, no matter what the expectation.

At a younger arc, he might have tried more with Kalba. Or not even younger, but just... before. In a time before. Hyde could understand that one of the reasons he wasn't finding any decent work was because he kept refusing to talk to friendly sorts like the other man. He understood, he just didn't care. Not at the moment, anyway. Hyde rubbed at his eyes some, then moved the rucksack to his other shoulder while he started to walk again - no idea where he headed, he just wanted to keep moving.

[Saza Moshe]

69 Ashan, 718 ‣ Nashaki

Saza tried not to let on, when Hyde merely offered a shrug, just how pleased he was not to have been shooed away. For a trill or two it worked, and the biqaj was a proper stone-faced soldier, walking near Hyde’s side but not bothering to look over at him – but Saza had never been all that great at pretending. A small smile tugged at the corners of his pouted lips, and golden eyes flicked to the side, observing the drunken man for a few moments longer before looking forward again.

He figured that when the older man said nel it meant that he needed to earn some. He wasn’t sure, however, if Hyde had provided the explanation as mere fact or if he intended on letting the youth join him in his task. Saza certainly wouldn’t mind doing some work; what he disliked was the sitting around. Sure, he could’ve sat in the tavern all night with Taiseer, and he could’ve gotten more of the rest he was probably supposed to be getting during his visit home to the city, but what was the use in that? Rest didn’t make him any nel, nor did it seem to do anything else. Being tired all the time was simply the price one paid for success, he figured.

The curly-haired biqaj walked along with his hands shoved into his pockets, thumbs idly tugging at the belt loops. His shirt was borrowed from Dion, but the pants… where had he gotten them from? Too long to have come from Taiseer, too loose to have come from Dion… too flowy, as well. Were they his? Saza could never tell if he actually owned anything or if everything he used was always borrowed. He didn’t suppose it mattered.

Hyde came to a sudden stop, and Saza paused just a foot or two ahead of him. He turned, golden eyes slightly narrowed in question, but his expression smoothed out as he realized that the man was simply removing his shirt. Something Saza wasn’t about to do himself, despite the darkness of the material he wore half-buttoned over his chest – it was lightweight and loose, only partially tucked into his trousers, and it wouldn’t do him much good to take it off.

He wouldn’t say the same for Hyde though.

Saza stayed still when the human started walking. His gaze lingered on the items left behind… but Hyde registered the loss soon enough, and stepped back to grab them. Only then did the biqaj continue on, offering another small smile at the older’s mention of feeling better. The youth would’ve been content enough to walk in silence (not that he particularly enjoyed it, but he didn’t mind it either), but Hyde opened his mouth yet again, and said more words than Saza thought he’d ever uttered in his presence before.

The question was hardly offensive to Saza, who only said, “oh, you can call me Kalba.”

It might not have been his name, but it was close enough, and it was what everybody else called him. The fact that the name hadn’t been given to him affectionately didn’t quite register, at least not yet – he figured it was just the nickname they’d chosen to give him, like any other. He glanced away from Hyde, golden eyes gradually fading into a calm, deep blue.

There were still people walking about on the city streets, and Saza offered more than one of them a friendly wave, or a dip of his head. He didn’t know everyone – that’d be impossible, as far as he knew – but he could at least recognize a good amount of his fellow locals.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry?” It wasn’t said in repetition of the other man’s short sentence – Saza just hadn’t heard. But it seemed to click just a trill afterward, when he looked back to the human’s face, and the biqaj shook his head.

“Uh… it’s okay,” he assured. He didn’t know what Hyde was apologizing for. He certainly hadn’t done anything to bother Saza. Hyde didn’t clarify, and Saza didn’t ask, so he left the odd apology at that.

He pulled his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms, head tilting from side to side in a slow stretch. Blue eyes briefly closed, Saza continued walking in a straight line beside the weaving man, and inquired, “what sort of work are you looking for? You… you said that you…”

Gods, he’d told him what he did. The curly-haired blond clicked his tongue.

“You find things. Have you done anything in Nashaki yet? Found anything?”

[Ichabod Hyde]

6 9 - A S H A N - 7 1 8 . . . N A S H A K I

Kalba. That was it. Upon mention of the name, Hyde could have sworn he remembered some of that night. It all was gone in the next trill. The memories flitted away and he didn't attempt to hold onto them. The name would be enough. Kalba, who waved and nodded to enough people that he seemed like a local. Not a visitor, yet he had stayed in the room? As much as Hyde didn't care about remembering that night, he did wonder about his own decision and nothing narrowed it down enough to settle that wonder.

At least, nothing yet. Maybe there'd be other things. Hyde focused on his walk, though. The rum had hit a peak of inebriation... and he didn't have the corner table to doze off. Instead, he wanted to walk. But with walking came balance. And with balance came the dizziness of a man who'd had a diet of pure liquor for the past trial or so.

"You find things."

Hyde hummed, with one too many nods in affirmation. He paused at a building, steadied himself against the corner. Eyes shut, he tried to center himself. Having his eyes shut resulted in him leaning so far forward that he pressed his face against the wall.

"...anything in Nashaki- -thing?"

He forced his eyes open, and glanced at the gold-eyed biqaj. What? Hyde looked at his hand. The bleeding had stopped. So, what did he do? The drunk man picked at the tiny glass shards stuck in the skin. He pulled them out of the small cuts across his palm and fingers. As he did so, he swayed while he tried to start walking again -

- which resulted in him crossing the street rather than heading forward.

"Yeah," he muttered, in the poorest attempt to act like he'd heard the question.

A heavy sigh, then he shook his head. His rucksack slid off his shoulder. The change of balance forced his weight. Hyde stumbled, then fell.

He didn't feel it, and laid against the rucksack then rolled to the side. With his injured hand, he rubbed at his brow. Some of the glass scraped against his face. Hyde groaned and gestured with his good hand. A signed gesture. That meant something. Something he'd already said aloud.

[Saza Moshe]

69 Ashan, 718 ‣ Nashaki

A glance to the side was all it took for Saza to realize that Hyde probably wasn’t listening to him. The man was leaned against a wall, eyes shut within their charcoal-smudged circles, and his face was pressed against the stone. It could’ve been a grab for balance (Hyde was quite obviously smashed), it could’ve been an attempt to cool off (it was already clear how poorly he handled the heat), it could’ve been both (which he thought was most likely). Whatever the reason, Saza slowed his steps and came to a stop nearby.

Why had he left the inn, if he was so… Saza looked him up and down and his eyes caught on the rucksack. Maybe they had kicked him out? It’d been a few trials since he first met the weird older man, and from the looks of it, he hadn’t really left that treasured corner table since. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that there were plenty of reasons why the innkeeper might’ve tossed the foreigner out of his room.

“Woah, easy,” the biqaj held out his hands when Hyde moved away from the wall. The human weaved, and cut across the street rather than down it. Saza couldn’t find it in himself to care that Hyde hadn’t really responded to his questioning – the man had left his mind in the bottle, so it seemed – but he did care about whether or not he hurt himself further. He’d already hurt his hand enough; he didn’t need to be wandering about and –

– and… falling. Which he did, as the rucksack fell from his shoulder and offset his poor balance. A grimace twisted Saza’s tanned, youthful features; a deep blue gaze surveyed the fallen human in a quick check for obvious injury. He didn’t look too hurt anywhere… nothing was twisted the wrong way, and nothing was sticking out, so he counted that as a win.

Hyde motioned with his hand (the one he’d given the biqaj before) and Saza wasn’t sure what it meant, but he figured it meant something. He approached warily, head of curly blond hair tilted.

“Don’t know what that means, sorry,” he admitted, and he knelt down to get a better look at the older’s charcoal-smudged, reddened face. He really needed to get out of the heat… or, he needed to get somewhere that was a little less hot than the street, and he needed a place to rest, so that he wasn’t in danger of falling again.

How did his face get scraped up like that? Saza’s lips were drawn back into a pout, “you should really let me look at that hand, Hyde. The injured one. Does it not hurt?”

He held out a bony hand of his own in an offering of help, “here, let’s get you up. You don’t want to stay there too long, someone might come pick you up.”

Not that he supposed anyone from the Tower of Flesh would see Hyde and get excited… he didn’t seem like good slave material, but the danger was there regardless.

[Ichabod Hyde]

6 9 - A S H A N - 7 1 8 . . . N A S H A K I

Hyde inhaled deep through his nose and filled his lungs full of the dry Nashaki air. He pointed at Kalba when he heard the last word of the mention that he didn't know what the previous signed communication had meant. He squinted back at the biqaj while Kalba looked at his face. Hyde mouthed while he repeated the signal: sorry. It meant sorry. Now, Kalba knew what it meant.

He hiccuped, and sat up a bit more. Hyde shook his head when asked if his hand hurt. It stung a bit, but hurt? No. It wasn't like he'd gotten skewered by a "...ssswword," he muttered the last word of his thoughts aloud. Accent sharp around the slur, he rubbed at his face with the back of his wrist.

A yawn, then a widening of his caramel-brown eyes. He regained some alertness lost in the drunken spin from... where had he been? How did he get to be on the ground? Confused, he kept quiet about it, and why was the biqaj pouting at him? He stared at the offered hand, then took it (with his injured hand) and pulled himself up to his feet -

- and it lasted a good two trills before his balance betrayed him. He pitched forward with full weight against the biqaj. A low Ith'ession swear word escaped him, while he tried to control the fall somewhat but then just gave up part-ways down.

He felt the tumble cushioned by a... cushioned was the wrong word. He felt the bony frame of a taller body under him, for a few trills, then he rolled aside to follow his drunken gravity. Hyde laid on his back, against the street, and groaned while he closed his eyes. He made a drowsy attempt to signal like before - but didn't quite finish it before he -

- just -

- fell -

- asleep.

Right there. Like that. Soot-painted eyes shut. Sunburnt (the red wasn't from just drinking but from past breaks caught in the sun) features softened in peaceful slumber in the middle of the Nashaki street. Messy hair covered his brow. A quiet pattern of snores rumbled in his bare chest. He placed his injured hand over his waist, to get a little more comfortable against the hard-packed dirt and stones.

[Saza Moshe]

69 Ashan, 718 ‣ Nashaki

Why was Hyde pointing at him…

Saza watched him repeat the little hand gesture from before, but this time, he caught the movement of his lips as well. Sorry, he’d mouthed. Saza was more confused by that than he’d been with the unknown signal before – he couldn’t tell why the older man had felt the need to apologize to him again. It wasn’t like he’d fallen over him on his way to the ground; as far as he was concerned, Hyde hadn’t done anything wrong.

The human took the offered hand after a few slow trills, and the biqaj tried not to hold any tighter to it than he had to. Hyde had given him his injured hand – which, in fairness to him, Saza supposed he had asked for it – and while he did want to help the guy back to his feet, he didn’t want to damage his hand any more in the process.

“Hey, careful,” he’d pulled him up, but Hyde didn’t look all that steady. Saza let go of his hand and grabbed his shoulder instead, to try and help balance him. “You don’t wanna f–

–all!”

Saza’s voice jumped in pitch as the human fell against him. The hand against his shoulder hadn’t helped at all (probably because he’d just barely set his fingers on the older’s bare skin), and neither did his body seem to stabilize the shorter man. That came as no surprise to the biqaj – he hadn’t expected to be pushed back with all the force of Hyde’s weight, and he lost his own footing just as soon.

Whatever force had leaned into him before… it was hardly comparable to that which landed on top of him now. Saza groaned as he tried to register what exactly had happened; he opened his wine-red eyes to the sight of the starry night sky and Hyde, and one of his hands weakly pushed at the older’s side to push him off. “Fuck, Hyde, you’re one – stubborn guy!”

Slowly, he pushed himself up into a seated position, and threw a glance down the street before he looked back to Hyde. The human had rolled off of him and was lying on his back, and Saza might’ve been concerned that the man had just died if he didn’t see the poorly-attempted, signed gesture. Sorry.

At least, that’s what Saza figured it was, but Hyde seemed to give up on it halfway through. Of course, the disgruntled biqaj thought, he’d give up on it the one time he felt it somewhat necessary. He sat up a little straighter, far quicker to regain his focus than the intoxicated (and now apparently sleeping) Hyde, and he frowned at the man’s sleeping form.

“Comfortable, are you?” his half-lidded gaze stared down at Hyde’s sunburnt, charcoal-smudged face. “Alright… let’s get you out of the street.”

The curly-haired soldier stood and dusted himself off. He found the foreigner’s abandoned rucksack and slung it over his shoulder (and ignored the annoying sense of curiosity that almost made him want to look inside).

He stepped back to the unconscious Hyde, knelt down beside him, and muttered, “if you wake up and hit me…”

[Doran]

Hyde:

Knowledge:
Resistance x3
Detection x1
Endurance x4

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.

Points: 15

Saza:

Knowledge:
Strength x 3
Detection x3
Linguistics: Common Sign x2

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.

Points: 15

- - -

Comments: Even though this thread’s title is “Bored” and Saza followed Hyde because he was bored, I wasn’t bored at all!

You two have a way of making even simple threads such as this one quite entertaining!

The contrast between Hyde’s thoughts/the background information that you gave your readers and what little Hyde actually said was interesting. I wonder if he’ll eventually open up a bit more though …

I found Saza very relatable. I was wondering about pretty much the same things when it came to Hyde. I agree that Hyde doesn’t seem like good slave material, by the way! (I liked that you mentioned that bit!).

The ending of the thread was … surprising (even though it shouldn’t have been, considering Hyde’s state). It was also amusing. I wonder what will happen next – and how exactly Saza will get Hyde out of the street …

I have the impression that Saza actually cares about Hyde!

Anyway, enjoy your rewards!