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Post by HAUTECLERE on Nov 14, 2012 0:12:06 GMT -5
He had feared that he'd hurt Refia's feelings with the way he had reacted to her physical contact. Ingus sat with hands folded in his lap as she remained silent for a bit, before moving again. He glanced at her with a perplexed expression as she suddenly tossed him a crimson, button-up shirt. Briefly, he wondered if all of his clothing was destined to be of this color. He pushed the covers off himself and slid his arms through the shirt's sleeves. It appeared that Refia had bounced back from Ingus' confessions, or she was doing a very good job at pretending that she was not worried. Ingus liked to think that he knew her better than that though.
He was relieved that he carried all his gil on his person. Monsters that he encountered dropped money prizes frequent enough that in order to move on quickly before scavengers swooped in, he ended up stuffing it into his satchel. The bag was strewn on the floor, propped up against his sword. Ingus' fingers fumbled with the white buttons on the shirt, feeling a little frustrated by how uncoordinated he'd become over the days of his recovery. It took him a little longer than it should have to do the buttons on his sleeves.
Ingus slid his legs over the side of his bed, relieved that whoever had stripped him of his clothing (which he was thankful for because it made breathing so much easier), had left him with his pants. He slid his boots on, and slowly rose to his feet for the first time in three days. He shook a bit, like a baby fawn testing out its new legs, but after steadying himself with the wall, he found that he was able to take a few steps forward. He lifted his satchel and his sword into his hands, and strapped the weapon to his waist. Ingus refused to go anywhere without it nowadays, and continued to deny that he was paranoid.
He had to show her (and perhaps himself) that he was at least sane enough to complete these simple actions, despite the fact that it took him a little longer to stand straight this time around.
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Post by excalibur on Nov 14, 2012 0:26:19 GMT -5
She didn't watch him dress himself -- no, she knew her own limits -- but turned back when she heard him slide off of the bed. Refia was ready to catch him, should he fall, but it seemed as if her assistance wasn't needed. He was unsteady, yes, but not infirm. Ingus grabbed his bag, his sword, and Refia knew he would be all right. Perhaps his mind was still broken, but -- physically, at least -- he was okay. Not in the best condition, but ... okay.
"All right!" He was done. Refia was tempted to slide her arm around his waist (be it to support him or just to be close to him, she didn't know), but thought better of it. Would it be an insult to his pride? Instead, she settled for simply taking a hold of his hand. "C'mon, let's go." She grabbed her own things, leading him out of their room, out of the Inn, and toward the small market of the village.
"What should we get first, Ingus?" There were stalls of food and stores for weapons and magic and clothing; where should they go?
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Post by HAUTECLERE on Nov 14, 2012 8:30:46 GMT -5
Ingus lurched forward, feet failing to move at the same pace as Refia's. The morning light blinded him, and he shaded his eyes with his free hand. It appeared that the Village of Ancients had not changed over the years. It was comforting, to know that there was something that had not changed over the last two years since the Merge. The grasses were still emerald green and hilly, with quaint little colleges nestled upon the tops. Despite the size of the village, it still brimmed with life.
It was only logical for the two of them to pick up the lighter supplies first, drop them off at the inn, and then return for the heavier-duty weapons and armor, or at least, this was what Ingus believed. "We will need something to carry our supplies in," he replied, eyes wandering from stand to stand. He skipped over the stalls with food peddlers, weapons, magic, clothing, and landed on an elderly man's humble wares.
Ingus gave Refia's hand one final squeeze before letting go of it, as if to tell her to follow him there. He paused in front of the stall, gaze sweeping over each finely-stitched saddle bag. All of them had a single, leather cross-body strap. The man was clad in a humble robe, and he grinned up at the blond. "You have a very good eye," he said. "You must travel much." Ingus could only provide a nod as he lifted one of its flaps. In situations such as this, it almost seemed as if he had never changed.
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Post by excalibur on Nov 14, 2012 20:43:28 GMT -5
It was a relief that his mind still worked well enough to prioritize what they were going to shop for. She obediently followed him, shooting a wide grin at the stall-keeper at the old man’s comment. “You could say that,” she agreed. Following suit, she chose a bag and examined it; some were too large, some too small, but all were durable and well-made. “Whoever made these did a good job,” she mused.
She flipped over a few of the bags in silence, before choosing a slightly-worn bag. It may not have looked as pretty as the newer ones, but she could tell that it could handle quite a bit. “This one,” she announced, fishing some Gil out of her pocket. Refia handed the money over, then turned to Ingus. “Whenever you’re done taking forever, where d’you wanna go next?”
The girl swung her semi-new bag over her shoulders, letting the strap fall across her chest. It was almost like old times, except now their numbers had been halved. “Supplies?”
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Post by HAUTECLERE on Nov 14, 2012 22:28:09 GMT -5
Ingus also realized the value of having leather saddle bags that were already worn and broken in. The newer, stiffer ones actually had a higher chance of cracking. All they would require was a little bit of sealing to doubly ensure that they were waterproof, which they could easily brush on themselves once they found the concoction. He had picked out a saddlebag similar to Refia's, though slightly bigger. After all, he was taller, and under normal circumstances probably ate larger helpings of food than her anyways. Ingus gave Refia an idle nod as he laid a hand upon the saddlebag. "I will take this one," he said to the man, and fished his own handful of Gil from his satchel. Once he'd dropped it into the man's hands, the stall owner waved them goodbye.
He readjusted the strap and slung it over a shoulder, letting it dangle just slightly past his hip. The empty bag bounced twice against it as Ingus swept his blue gaze over the other stalls. He remembered this motion, walking into a village with Refia, Luneth, and Arc at his sides. Arc would get caught up in used book sales while Luneth had to put his sticky paws on every single item at the stall, and Refia's eyes would light up seeing the occasional street performers, all while Ingus tried to get everyone's attention so that they remembered why they were stopping in the village in the first place (and then they would accidentally leave Arc behind because he was too absorbed in a book and didn't notice them walking away).
"Yes, supplies," Ingus replied, though it was quite clear that his mind was elsewhere. There were only two of them, and Ingus recalled a time when he too had journeyed alone with only one other comrade. He should have never gone with the Princess when she requested that he act as her container as she journeyed from landmark to landmark. It had worked out because Princess Sara was primarily a healer, but she was the last person he could afford to reveal how afraid he felt about the Merge. His fingers curled around the strap of the saddlebag, tighter, tighter. This journey would not have the same results, would it? Besides, he was sure that Refia had already heard more than she had let on.
One who continues to run, I do not deserve this.
Where was the determination he summoned two years ago?
His knuckles began to turn white.
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Post by excalibur on Nov 19, 2012 14:40:28 GMT -5
Refia should have known better.
One, single, solitary shopping trip wouldn't have suddenly made him 'all right.' And wasn't it unfair to him, if she held him up to her standards? (Everyone was different.) Even so, his tone of voice concerned her. What was he thinking about now? It had been so easy to understand each other, back when the days and nights and weeks and months were all spent together; now, it struck her once more that they were almost strangers. Refia paused. Would he want her to hold him? She certainly wanted to do so, but -- was this all a mistake?
Then she realized that he would continue to stand there, lost in whatever dark thoughts were plaguing his mind, if she didn't do something. With her rough hands, she gently reached toward him and pried his taut fingers from the strap. "Y'know," she mused, "I don't think we should get supplies right now." No, she wanted to take his mind off of the impending journey and maybe ...
Her stomach rumbled.
"Wanna get something to eat?" she asked, laughing. "An apple and some water isn't even breakfast." She grabbed his hand, tugging him toward a small, nearby shop. The warm smells of food wafted out the open door, and Refia grinned at Ingus. "C'mon, let's go!" she urged. They could -- they could worry about the future later.
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Post by HAUTECLERE on Nov 19, 2012 16:18:42 GMT -5
There were fingers tugging at his hands, and although Ingus' instincts warned him to grab at whatever was touching him and yank it away, he allowed Refia's fingers to work at his own. With enough coaxing, each finger loosened, until he had finally let go of the empty saddlebag's strap. Ingus rubbed the back of his neck and managed a half-hearted smile, mostly out of gratitude that Refia's actions had given him something to redirect his thoughts towards. "Yes," he replied. "... perhaps later." He had no objections towards that. In fact, Ingus had already decided that searching for supplies was not something that he felt up to as of the moment.
He glanced at the sky as Refia mentioned breakfast. That was right; Ingus hadn't been able to tell what time of the day it was. All he had seen was that the sun was out, so it couldn't possibly have been evening. Now, he noticed that people were beginning to exit their houses as the morning hustle and bustle of the Village of Ancients began to rise. His brow furrowed as he wondered just how long he had been asleep for. It had felt like the slumber had lasted for over a day, but time tended to pass faster than the clock ticked in the dream world.
It was typical of Refia to have food on her mind. Ingus, however, never commented on that because he had enough intuition to believe that she was self-conscious about her appetite. She led him towards a shop lit by the wide windows in its storefront. Vibrantly-decorated cakes and soft breads had already been put out on display. He swallowed thickly as the aroma of fresh bread hit him for the first time. Ingus had grown so used to rations that he had nearly forgotten what fresh food smelled like.
"What is here?" he asked curiously.
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