No. It's not. [ ... she considers leaving it there, and then just sighs. ] I'm from a rich family. We're not nobles, necessarily, but we rub shoulders with them constantly.
We make wine. Lionett wine. It's the best in Wildemount.
Success, mostly. We own the land that grows the specific type of grapes you need to make our wine. They don't grow anywhere else. My dad made some deal to get it a long time ago.
[ she doesn't know the specifics of that deal from her current canon point but wow is it a doozy. ]
I hated it and I haven't been in the middle of it for a few years now, so. Maybe that's why I don't feel like a rich kid.
Definitely. I'm a Nie, now. I can leave that other shit behind. Not like they wanted me to keep it anyway. [ she presses her hand to her stomach again as she walks. ]
Not the good kind of family drama, then. [Is that what Ogata had meant, then...?
He sees her slowly starting to buckle again, but he'll just keep an eye on her.]
You seem happier this way. Sometimes I think shedding that title is a way to really see what a person can become. Doesn't mean you have to forget it, but you don't need it to define you.
[ she wrinkles her nose a bit at that first part but doesn't say anything. ]
I was enjoying myself. I'm not that fucking terrible with girls. [ she just doesn't have self esteem, oops ] There's just a difference between sleeping with them and dating them.
It's not that. [ she mutters, but she's distracted. she's breathing kind of harshly, or at least - a little more than usual. she's got a permanent grimace now. her shoulder is throbbing, her head hurts.
This is fucking stupid. [ she's already tired of being injured. she's used to pushing what she can do, but she's had two clerics at her back for a while now and not having that here... well. ]
Just gimme a second. [ and she just. sits down. right where she's at, she sits in the middle of the road. ]
His hands flex tightly at his sides, mentally steeling himself from all the kneejerk reactions he knows by heart, like a child approaching a spider unsure of whether it will move or not, heart pounding in his throat. But he knows, he KNOWS he has to do something.
The rush of adrenaline makes his head run cold, quiet and expression locked as he stiffly breaks the space between them to kneel next to her and hook her against his arms, his voice hoarse.]
...Sorry.
[That's all she's getting before he's lifting her up and immediately continuing down the path with Beau in a princess carry.]
[It's firm, Guy pointedly looking straight forward and not stopping his movements, even though the palor on his face is incredibly noticeable. There's strength behind the carry, and yet his arms are still shaking, his grip against her tense, as though he feels he may drop her at any moment. Everything is a rush of adrenaline, of a sheer power of will fighting against something else entirely.
It's fine. It's fine. It's fine. It's fine. It's fine. You're fine. She needs help. Remember that she needs help.
...
He still doesn't stop. But after a long moment, he speaks up again, his voice clipped.]
You can talk. [Remind him that this is Beau, this is now, and--] Just don't move. Please.
[ she says, concerned. ] I don't know what to talk about. It feels weird to try and distract you from something I'm causing, like.
[ she is doing her best to stay still here. guy's going to notice she's like, burning to the touch, if he can focus on anything but his panic. she's feverishly hot, all over. ]
[In contrast, he's extremely cool - if there's any touch against his skin, then the surface is much smoother to the touch that it appears, like a rock carved from the flow of a river. Is there steam between the two of them because of this? Possibly, mildly, if there is skin-to-skin contact.]
It's not your fault.
[He lets out a shuddering breath, chest shaking.]
T-this was a choice. That's important to me. Okay?
[Keep it together. You're doing fine, the heat isn't related, the weight isn't related, the voice isn't related. He can feel it clawing at the sides of his mind, the taste of fear sour in his mouth.
It's fine. It's just Beau. It's fine.
He adjusts her in his grip, just slightly, as though he's trying to be more aware of how she's resting, trying not to hurt her. But he still can't bear to look down.]
Do you remember a lot about where you grew up, Beau? When you were really young.
[ choice. choices, god. it makes her think of asch, and she just frowns the whole way. ]
... Yeah. [ she closes her eyes. ] I grew up in a place called Kamordah. It's at the base of a mountain and the whole place is a shithole. It's rocks and geysers and scrublands. It's mostly brown and grey.
The soil is full of all these weird minerals? It smells like jasmine most of the time, but every once in a while you get a spray of a geyser and it's just sulfur smell for hours.
All the kids who grow up there always smell like jasmine, though. Like it's in their bones, in their skin.
[It doesn't make the gnawing of his fear go away. The fight is active, just like always. But to focus on her story, on something tangible, especially with her descriptions... it helps, just a little, to try to picture that and not what his mind is trying to force back up like a horrible illness.
They're nearly to the village proper now, the southern paths behind them. Just.... to the portal, then to the cabins. To the portal, to the cabins. It's not a horrible walk, but right now it feels like it's lasting a lifetime.
His voice is still clipped, but he's definitely listening, his pulse pounding madly.]
I'm guessing that's before your family found the land for the wine, right?
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You're sharp.
Both are right. I've been a servant most of my life, and my current situation leaves me doing pretty much the same thing most of the time.
But Asch is right. I'm under vassalge to His Majesty Emperor Peony the Ninth, as the current heir of the house of Count Gardios.
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You under vassalage willingly or unwillingly?
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Willingly.
You ask that like you're familiar with how it works. Not you first run-in with the noble crowd? [Is that fancy name not just for show after all?]
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No. It's not. [ ... she considers leaving it there, and then just sighs. ] I'm from a rich family. We're not nobles, necessarily, but we rub shoulders with them constantly.
We make wine. Lionett wine. It's the best in Wildemount.
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Didn't take you as one for that kind of lifestyle, either. [There's a joking tone to it, light and slightly empathetic.]
Did your family exclusively sell to the upper class, or was that just something that came on from success?
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Success, mostly. We own the land that grows the specific type of grapes you need to make our wine. They don't grow anywhere else. My dad made some deal to get it a long time ago.
[ she doesn't know the specifics of that deal from her current canon point but wow is it a doozy. ]
I hated it and I haven't been in the middle of it for a few years now, so. Maybe that's why I don't feel like a rich kid.
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[says the one who doesn't have Gardios anywhere on his bus pass, but eh.]
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Definitely. I'm a Nie, now. I can leave that other shit behind. Not like they wanted me to keep it anyway. [ she presses her hand to her stomach again as she walks. ]
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He sees her slowly starting to buckle again, but he'll just keep an eye on her.]
You seem happier this way. Sometimes I think shedding that title is a way to really see what a person can become. Doesn't mean you have to forget it, but you don't need it to define you.
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she glances at him, vaguely amused. ]
I am happier this way. Yeah. I made my own name. My own family. I haven't needed the Lionetts in years.
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[...]
Ooooother than maybe working on that confidence with the ladies a little more. You sounded like you were enjoying yourself tonight.
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I was enjoying myself. I'm not that fucking terrible with girls. [ she just doesn't have self esteem, oops ] There's just a difference between sleeping with them and dating them.
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Anything wrong with just being yourself around someone else that you like?
I mean... it sounds like you already have had a fight to get to where you are. Shouldn't you be proud of it?
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I am myself, constantly, without apologizing for it, and that's the fucking problem, most of the time.
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[...YYyyep, noticing that drop in speed, though, especially when he starts to outpace her. He'll halt where he is, brow furrowing.]
...Easy, easy. [this was a BAD IDEA.]
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deep, steadying breath. ]
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His voice falls firm, even though it's quiet.]
Beau, hey, stop. Stop for a second. We aren't going any further like this.
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This is fucking stupid. [ she's already tired of being injured. she's used to pushing what she can do, but she's had two clerics at her back for a while now and not having that here... well. ]
Just gimme a second. [ and she just. sits down. right where she's at, she sits in the middle of the road. ]
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act now, Guy, or regret it
...
...
His hands flex tightly at his sides, mentally steeling himself from all the kneejerk reactions he knows by heart, like a child approaching a spider unsure of whether it will move or not, heart pounding in his throat. But he knows, he KNOWS he has to do something.
The rush of adrenaline makes his head run cold, quiet and expression locked as he stiffly breaks the space between them to kneel next to her and hook her against his arms, his voice hoarse.]
...Sorry.
[That's all she's getting before he's lifting her up and immediately continuing down the path with Beau in a princess carry.]
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Don't - don't apologize to me. [ beau hisses, completely still. ] Put me down, don't fucking torture yourself.
[ at least she's trying to not touch him as much as possible? ]
no subject
[It's firm, Guy pointedly looking straight forward and not stopping his movements, even though the palor on his face is incredibly noticeable. There's strength behind the carry, and yet his arms are still shaking, his grip against her tense, as though he feels he may drop her at any moment. Everything is a rush of adrenaline, of a sheer power of will fighting against something else entirely.
It's fine. It's fine. It's fine. It's fine. It's fine. You're fine. She needs help. Remember that she needs help.
...
He still doesn't stop. But after a long moment, he speaks up again, his voice clipped.]
You can talk. [Remind him that this is Beau, this is now, and--] Just don't move. Please.
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[ she says, concerned. ] I don't know what to talk about. It feels weird to try and distract you from something I'm causing, like.
[ she is doing her best to stay still here. guy's going to notice she's like, burning to the touch, if he can focus on anything but his panic. she's feverishly hot, all over. ]
I can babble, I guess. If that helps.
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It's not your fault.
[He lets out a shuddering breath, chest shaking.]
T-this was a choice. That's important to me. Okay?
[Keep it together. You're doing fine, the heat isn't related, the weight isn't related, the voice isn't related. He can feel it clawing at the sides of his mind, the taste of fear sour in his mouth.
It's fine. It's just Beau. It's fine.
He adjusts her in his grip, just slightly, as though he's trying to be more aware of how she's resting, trying not to hurt her. But he still can't bear to look down.]
Do you remember a lot about where you grew up, Beau? When you were really young.
no subject
... Yeah. [ she closes her eyes. ] I grew up in a place called Kamordah. It's at the base of a mountain and the whole place is a shithole. It's rocks and geysers and scrublands. It's mostly brown and grey.
The soil is full of all these weird minerals? It smells like jasmine most of the time, but every once in a while you get a spray of a geyser and it's just sulfur smell for hours.
All the kids who grow up there always smell like jasmine, though. Like it's in their bones, in their skin.
no subject
They're nearly to the village proper now, the southern paths behind them. Just.... to the portal, then to the cabins. To the portal, to the cabins. It's not a horrible walk, but right now it feels like it's lasting a lifetime.
His voice is still clipped, but he's definitely listening, his pulse pounding madly.]
I'm guessing that's before your family found the land for the wine, right?
How did you end up in a place like that?
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