[ console | video/action ] we get to carry each other

[edgeoftheknife]

[Hello folks, it's your friendly neighborhood gorgeous janitor. Except he's not looking so friendly, today. In fact, he's looking more serious than most people have probably ever seen him, here in Keeliai. When he speaks it's with a gravity that his words normally lack.]

Anton Shudder is no longer in charge of the Midnight Hotel.

I'm taking over.

[There's a pause, while he lets that sink in.]

Since Shudder has proven himself incapable of the running of the Hotel--or indeed, simple things like standing and walking, I find myself forced to keep him confined to a comfortable chair in front of the fire. With tea. And yarn.

He knits, did you know he knits?

[It should be noted that while the tone of the video has become decidedly less serious, Ravel's face has not.]

At any rate, I'll be taking over the day-to-day operations of the Hotel for the time being. Matters such as employment and pay will still go through Anton, obviously. Day-to-day functions should come to me, instead. Any present staff are encouraged to pitch in as you're able--God only knows you don't want me doing the cooking. Not unless the lot of you fancy grilled cheese or cold cereal.

[He pauses]

Was that it? Yes, I think that was it. Er. Carry on.

Comments

action; audible/partially visible

[gistful]

The two of you? Unsupervised? Both of you together couldn't figure out how to nail two boards together.

[A blanket. Really. Really. He's not an invalid. Anton heaves a very long-suffering sigh.]

I'm not sitting here all afternoon, Erskine.

[It's a console chair. It's only comfortable for short periods. Besides, he is not going to sit down all day.]

[edgeoftheknife]

Oh come on, that's not fair. We finished the repairs on the shop, didn't we?

[Erskine grips both of the arms of the chair and leans over, so his face is very close to Anton's. His tone of voice is still friendly, but stern.]

Then you'll go back to bed until Raine or Aqua can get here. Your choice.

[gistful]

With my supervision.

[Anton lifts his eyebrow. If Erskine's not careful he might even get a belligerent Anton scowl.]

So your solution to my not wanting to sit in this uncomfortable chair is to make me move all the way across the Hotel lobby to my bedroom?

[edgeoftheknife]

Then we'll set up a lawn chair and you can supervise again, if it makes you feel better about it. You're not repairing anything like this.

[That actually makes Erskine smile a little]

Anton, did you just admit one of your Hotel chairs is uncomfortable? For shame.

[gistful]

It does, actually. If I can have something to throw at you.

[Yes, there it is. The tiniest of belligerent scowls.]

Over long periods, any chair gets uncomfortable. And you're trying to sequester me into one all day.

[edgeoftheknife]

Done. I'll find you a little tin of whatever passes for peanuts here--you can be the Peanut Gallery for real. I'll call Skulduggery and let him know as soon as we've got a healer here checking on you.

[He rolls his eyes]

It's only until we know what's wrong. Drama queen. Now--chair or bed? I'll levitate you if I have to.

[gistful]

Which will be months, because we haven't found the name for it yet, if one exists.

[Yes, that is definitely a scowl, and yes, he is aware he just admitted that he's known something was wrong for weeks and didn't say anything. But he doesn't answer the last part. He just gives Erskine a Patented Anton Stare. That usually works. Usually.]

[edgeoftheknife]

We? You mean you've known about this?

[Not this time, Anton. Erskine's staring right back. Let it never be said that Anton is the only stubborn Dead Man, oh no.]

[gistful]

[Don't you be subverting his authority here, Ravel. For a moment Anton keeps staring. Then he sighs and concedes.]

Larrikin said something which made Raine concerned for my health. She and Stark have since discovered an apparent ... discrepancy in my nervous system. Non-lethal. I'll be fine.

[edgeoftheknife]

Fine. Fine, says the man who couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag.

[He straightens up]

Right then, bed it is. Would you prefer to be escorted or levitated?

[gistful]

You are not levitating me.

[edgeoftheknife]

Like fun I'm not. We'll see how I'm feeling when we're halfway across the lobby.

[He reaches down and hooks an arm under Anton's, ready to help him back up.]

I like to think I take care of myself, Shudder, but you're too bloody tall. And heavy. I'm not exactly G-

[There is the briefest of pauses as he chokes on the name]

-Dexter. I'm not exactly Dexter over here, am I? Come on. One more trip and we're done.

[gistful]

No one is Dexter. Dexter was sculpted from an Adonis statue.

[With great reluctance Anton lets himself be helped to his feet, because as much as he dislikes it, he does need the extra support. His balance just refuses to settle. So he leans on Erskine a little more than he'd like as he makes his way toward his bedroom door.

[About halfway there he stumbles, putting all his weight on Erskine as a bout of dizziness sweeps over him so strongly that his knees tremble along with his hands.]

[edgeoftheknife]

[Ravel smirks as he's working on distributing Anton's weight across his shoulders.]

Careful Anton, your crush is showing. I won't tell Rover when he shows up again, I promise.

[And then it goes fine, more or less, for about half of the trip. Sure, Ravel's recently-healed leg is feeling decidedly less healed than it did when he woke up this morning, and Anton's weight on his bad shoulder doesn't feel much better, but it's do-able. He can handle this.

Until he can't anymore. A quickly-enacted buffer of air is the only thing that saves them from both hitting the floor.]

Anton? You still with me?

[gistful]

Yes.

[Damn it. Erskine isn't even fully healed yet. Anton closes his eyes and presses his thumbs against the lids, though not too hard. This is idiotic.]

Fine. Levitate me.

[At least then it won't injure Erskine further just getting Anton across the lobby. Too bad it's so empty right now or he'd use one of the kedan instead.]

[edgeoftheknife]

[Erskine chuckles.]

I thought you'd never ask.

[Except he doesn't levitate him, not exactly. It's really just the same cushion of air he's using to keep them both upright, but focused solely on Anton. Propping him up, rather than floating him in midair. Erskine's right hand holds the air in place while he leans over, grips his knee with his left, and breathes through the near-collapse.]

Much as I'd... get a kick out of floating you... I won't. See how much I love you?

[gistful]

[Anton grunts and lets the cushion of air take his weight, a little gingerly--it's been a long time since anything like this has been necessary, and even then Anton is not usually the recipient. But he's still familiar enough with being guided by air that he adapts well enough.

[He glances over, frowning.]

Your leg and shoulder?

[edgeoftheknife]

Nothing a hot bath and aspirin won't fix. [Still leaning over, he lets out a short laugh and looks up at Anton.]

I think we're both getting old, you and I. When the hell did this happen?

[gistful]

Sometime in the last century, I think.

[He leans into the pillow of air and closes his eyes. He does feel old, and like Erskine, he's not sure when it happened.]

What does it say about us, that we're youngest in war?

[edgeoftheknife]

Probably something deep and psychological and not very flattering. Which is why I'm going to ignore it.

[He straightens up, rolling his left shoulder tentatively, and nods]

Right then, let's try this again, shall we?

[And to most people it's going to look like they're just taking a casual stroll, although Erskine still has his right hand held out at waist level toward Anton.]

[gistful]

[It helps. It's less galling than Anton's resistance would indicate, but it still irks him that he needs the help at all, that his knees shake and his vision does a slow white burn. When they reach the door to his bedroom he grips it to steady himself on something more solid than air, and then continues the rest of the way to the bed.

[He doesn't want to admit how relieved he is, to sit down again, lean his elbows on his knees and put his head down to breathe for a minute.]

[edgeoftheknife]

[Erskine's not having quite as rough a time anymore, now that he's been relieved of physically hauling all six feet six inches of stupidly large Anton on his shoulders. Still, he sinks down into a chair nearby and unconsciously mimics Anton's posture, minus hanging his head. He just watches Anton for a moment, to make sure the other man's not going to pass out.]

Raine should be here shortly, I would imagine. You want to explain what sort of "discrepancy" we're talking about here, or shall I wait and ask her?

[gistful]

[After a moment, Anton lifts his head.]

Some areas of my nervous system aren't functioning as well as they should. They've been damaged somehow, in minor ways.

[edgeoftheknife]

[He doesn't say anything right away, considering this information that's really not much more than he'd had to go on a little while ago.]

And it's not related to the gist?

[gistful]

No. The gist has hidden the effects with similar symptoms, probably allayed the condition over the years, but it isn't causing them.