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[ Just as Dimitri shifts Turner's weight back onto himself, something gently jingles and falls onto the floor from one of his pockets, settling on the grass to glint innocently in the moonlight.

Claude stares at it. ]

... I guess it would make sense that he would have keys to his house with him.

[ Shaking his head, he snatches them up before getting back to his feet. It would be very funny if these keys did not open the front door, but they do! And finally, they can get inside. ]

[ this reminds me of the time claude forgot that geese can fly

Anyway, mercifully they get inside the house. Dimitri is still the only one carrying Turner at this point, though it doesn't seem to bother him much; if he's good for even one thing in this whole universe, it's heavy lifting.

He tries not to look around too much, but he can't exactly help it when he's off looking for a bed to drop their bear friend off in. ]

He must be exhausted from working in the clinic this long. The hours there are brutal...

[ Dimitri didn't think to check for keys either?

While Dimitri does his best to mind his own business, Claude helps himself to a look around Turner's creaky little home. It's two story and narrow, with a sitting room and a kitchen on the first floor but not else.

Claude can't help wandering to the kitchen—Turner is a bear after all, maybe he has something more substantial than bird seed—where he finds a hoard of bottles. ]

Why does he even bother going to the bar when he has plenty of drink at home?

[ Picks up a bottle and uncorks it. ]

[ Is it worth making an entire game so that we can freely make up npc details with no fear of being wrong?

He doesn't see what Claude's up to, on account of trying to foist Turner onto his couch. But he hears the cork popping and sighs. ]

I wouldn't say we're guests here, Claude.

[ Don't just help yourself to whatever? He considers the question, though. ]

Maybe he would rather not drink alone.

Edited 2021-09-13 06:52 (UTC)

I'm looking for water, Dimitri. I assume he'd appreciate some when he wakes up in the morning.

[ He sets the bottle back. There's a million to get through, some empty and some not, and decides that Turner has probably been drunk enough times that he can handle his own hangover remedy.

Wandering back to Dimitri, he gives the bearkin an pitying look. ]

I'd say he should find himself a friend who can keep him in line then. Perhaps you should volunteer.

[ Aw, that's considerate of him. He shouldn't have assumed he was raiding this bear's pantry. Water does sound really nice right now, actually—it's been pretty warm lately.

Dimitri seems to consider this proposal that he brings forth. ]

I only have so many hours in a day, unfortunately.

[ Certainly not enough to keep one bearkin from making some bad personal decisions. ]

But I can attend to his shift in the morning at the clinic. While I do not want to encourage his poor habits, the man is clearly in need of some rest. [ Turner needs a mental health day. Don't we all. ]

Edited 2021-09-18 06:24 (UTC)

[ He actually wasn't looking for water, but he said it so that Dimitri feels bad for making assumptions. Jerk.

Anyway, Dimitri's response is kind of exhausting. Does he really think that he needs to babysit everyone...? ]

Then you should get some rest, your Princeliness. [ Gives Dimitri a pat on the shoulder. ] Sounds like you'll have your hands full in the morning.

[ What is a house leader, if not a glorified babysitter? Even if the reality is that Dimitri is the one who often ends up needing someone to make sure he stays alive. The point is, to be a leader means being available to as many people as possible—to be a pillar that can relieve some of the burdens of others, even if he cannot hope to singularly carry the weight of a nation.

Rest is rarely on the docket, though he tries to look appreciative when Claude suggests it. ]

Mm, I suppose I do.

[ Actually, he is pretty tired? Must've been the trek over. Without thinking, he sort of oozes in place onto the ground, sitting beside the couch and a snoozing Turner. ]

Perhaps... just a short nap before we return.

[ Considering that Dimitri just chided him about not being a guest here, Claude expects the both of them to march out the door now that they've done what they set out to accomplish.

So it's a surprise when he's standing by the door and Dimitri doesn't follow him. Backtracking to the sitting room where they set Turner down, he blinks at the sight of Dimitri on the couch.

That doesn't seem right. ]

Are you that tired of rooming with me, Dimitri?

[ He walks over to him, setting a hand on Dimitri's shoulder. ]

Come on, you said yourself we're not guests here. You can nap at home.

[ Oh, he did just say that. Claude's right, and it's a bit much to lay down and make himself comfortable in Turner's home, especially when they had to let themselves in.

He does agree completely. But when Claude touches his shoulder, he slaps it away with abrupt force, a spike of irritation raising in his throat before it dies just as quickly, startling him in its intensity before he draws his hand back, rubbing his knuckles and looking apologetic. ]

Sorry, I didn't mean... [ Hm. He must be tired and Grumpy. ] You're right, of course. We should get going.

[ He lets out a breath, then pushes himself up onto his feet with a wobble. ]

I must have been neglecting my training, if a short walk [ carrying a bear ] is enough to leave me winded.

[ ... That's really not like him. It's not that Claude hadn't needled Dimitri to the point of exasperation in the month that they'd been trapped here alone, but the prince was remarkably good at keeping control of his temper.

It could just be fatigue, but the fact that Dimitri was so suddenly exhausted is unusual in and of itself. Though calling it unusual is being kind, given that he's fairly certain that it's a sign of something worst than a little exhaustion. ]

I doubt anyone could blame you for being distracted.

[ He starts back toward the door now that Dimitri is following him, hopefully on steady feet. ]

And the food in this car really doesn't give us enough energy for anything strenuous, does it?

[ He does follow along, if a little stubbornly, resting against the doorframe for a moment. ]

It doesn't. The people here can hardly be expected to recover with just a mouthful of gruel...

[ It's frustrating. It's easier to fight something concrete, a man or a monster, but a plague is so formless that it's easy to be stuck paddling in place.

Anyway, before he can say anymore metaplot conjecture, he falls off the modest little porch and lands in the dirt. ]

[ Claude hadn't taken it personally when Dimitri pushed his hand away, but he doesn't make any effort to reach out again as they leave the house. He knows that men hold their pride in high esteem after all, and it could be especially important to the chivalrous knights of Faerghus to never burden others or show weakness.

So he continues on, letting Dimitri think that he's infallible.

... Until it becomes very apparent that he is not. ]

D— [ He turns his head when he hears the pomf of someone hitting the ground, doing a double take when he sees that Dimitri's collapsed. ] Dimitri?!

[ Closing the distance between them so that he can kneel at his side, he takes hold of Dimitri's arm to help him up. ]

You're not looking good, my friend.

[ It would be nice if he were invincible, and if he were immune to trifle things like illness. But he is not, and it's only after several days here that he has to admit to himself that he's under the weather. Mostly because he's faceplanted into the dirt.

Claude had to help carry a bear here, and now he has to help carry an idiot back. ]

I... think I feel worse than I look.

[ Not point in posturing anymore. He groans as he pushes himself back up to his feet, suddenly feverish. ]

Apologies, Claude—I should be all right. [ he is going to pitch forward again in 2 seconds if claude lets him go ]

I'm sure you will.

[ Because what else is he supposed to say? That Dimitri could very well have caught the illness that seems to be halving the population of this town, for which they currently don't have a cure or solution?

He'd never really considered the possibility of them actually dying on this train.

But he's taking several leaps ahead. For the moment, he focuses on what he can do for Dimitri now, and that is winding an arm around his torso so that he can do his best to heft Dimitri up onto his legs. ]

But why don't you leave things to me for a bit?

[ Though it becomes apparent enough that Dimitri's legs are doing him no favours, so with one arm around his back, he hooks the other behind his knees so that he can lift him up. It's... a strain, but he thinks he can manage. ]

[ Well, one second he's being supported up, and the next second, his feet have left the ground. The sudden lurch catches him by surprise, but he doesn't have much energy for floundering about or lashing out. He does turn his head, trying to shoot Claude a wide-eyed look. ]

Um, Claude.

[ Is he really going to be able to do this. Not to insult Claude's ability, but raw, brute strength never seemed like his strong suit, and Dimitri is heavier than he might look.

Also, it's a little weird. ]

I appreciate it, but are you... quite sure about this?

[ Dimitri is heavier than he looks, and Claude's sure that the armour he insists on wearing doesn't help. Still, Claude isn't as dainty as he looks either. ]

Doubting my abilities, your Highness? I think you should spend more time worrying after yourself.

[ And he means that. Sure, it's not the most comfortable position for him, but he keeps a steady hold on Dimitri as he sets off toward the little apartment Dimitri's device had fashioned for them. It gets harder the further he walks, his banter eventually dying off as he clenches his jaw to keep from breathing too heavily in the hopes that Dimitri doesn't notice the strain his weight is taking on him. If he's lucky, Dimitri will be too out of it to even notice.

The way that his arms eventually go rigid save the occasional tremor, his steps stiffer. He briefly entertains the thought of letting Dimitri walk the rest of the way, but his pride keeps him from giving up.

Eventually, he's slumping against the door of their tiny accommodations, struggling inside and doing his best to collapse gracefully against the closest horizontal surface.

He just needs a minute. ]

[ Their walk back to their arrangements proceeds in silence, with Dimitri mostly zoning out and turning into dead weight once it's clear that Claude can support him (though not without some struggle, sorry, Claude). On the bright side, Dimitri does not notice his faltering at all.

Mostly on account of the fact that he also flops over weightlessly as soon as Claude collapses, landing face-first in the small, mildly uncomfortable mattress.

For a while, he just rests there, before he responds, voice muffled by the covers. ]

Thank you, Claude.

[ He lies there motionlessly. After a long moment, gravely, ]

I am... unwell.

[ Despite everything, Claude snorts at that, pushing himself up on (only SLIGHTLY) shaky arms as he takes in Dimitri's prone form.

He's more worried than he shows, given that he's not a healer in any capacity, and the fact that he knows so little about the illness in this town. Only that it appeared one day, there doesn't seem to be a cure, and it results in death, every time.

There's been plenty of trials and tribulations on this train so far, but they've been able to move from one car to the next, clutching at the myth of progression, and solidifying the narrative that they're just travellers here in the end. They appear, do their jobs and move on, and eventually, they'll reach the end and head home. ]

I can see that. [ He pats Dimitri's shoulder, pushing him so that he's lying on his back. ] But don't worry, I've nursed plenty of ailments.

[ Self-induced schemes gone wrong, but he projects confidence for Dimitri's sake.

And a little for his own. He doesn't quite want to face the very real possibility that Dimitri could be seriously ill. It's... scary.

So instead he wanders over to the next room, grabbing a hand towel and wetting it before returning to place it on Dimitri's forehead. ]

Carrying Turner must've really taken it out of you.