Funny, how Fate likes to play games: it has rewarded Clive with this utterly impossible reunion, but has done so at the worst possible time, with his sanity scattered to the winds. For a good portion of their trek to Northreach, he thinks he must be sleepwalking－ living some sort of fantasy that he's created mid-rut, liable to wake up at any time by the smoldering remains of his campfire, Wyvern yet again－ but that spiked boot never drops, and the gentle, safe scent that he associates so strongly as his remains a consistent, maddening reminder of his need until they pass through the gates of Northreach.
He thinks he must have ground his teeth flat by the time the Veil comes into view. (Distantly, there's a realization that, despite all of the times he's marched adjacent to Northreach in all of his years traversing Sanbreque, he has never been inside it proper.) Joshua bids him to remain silent, but he doesn't think he has any words in him to speak; when the lady of the House, Isabelle, comes out to appraise the two strange men who have darkened her doorstep, she takes one look at Clive and seems to understand the sorry state he's in.
Come inside, before you scare half my girls away with your scent, she teases airily. A real concern, apparently. Clive says nothing as they're shown to their rooms in the back of the manor, corralled near the kitchens and the courtesans' living quarters, away from immediate earshot of the clientele.
Clive floats through the entire affair. He only waits until the door closes behind them to pull Joshua closer by his arm, nesting their bodies front to front again in desperation.
"Joshua," sounds almost like a plea. His hand scrabbles along his brother's form, trying to find a way to wriggle his palm under that heavy cloak.
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Date: 2025-12-19 03:20 am (UTC)He thinks he must have ground his teeth flat by the time the Veil comes into view. (Distantly, there's a realization that, despite all of the times he's marched adjacent to Northreach in all of his years traversing Sanbreque, he has never been inside it proper.) Joshua bids him to remain silent, but he doesn't think he has any words in him to speak; when the lady of the House, Isabelle, comes out to appraise the two strange men who have darkened her doorstep, she takes one look at Clive and seems to understand the sorry state he's in.
Come inside, before you scare half my girls away with your scent, she teases airily. A real concern, apparently. Clive says nothing as they're shown to their rooms in the back of the manor, corralled near the kitchens and the courtesans' living quarters, away from immediate earshot of the clientele.
Clive floats through the entire affair. He only waits until the door closes behind them to pull Joshua closer by his arm, nesting their bodies front to front again in desperation.
"Joshua," sounds almost like a plea. His hand scrabbles along his brother's form, trying to find a way to wriggle his palm under that heavy cloak.