singillatim | the chilly worlds, and the silent fields

You are sodden! [Randvi tries to be mindful of his weakness and injury as she ushers him inside, but he looks terrible and she does feel some pressure to work quickly.]

Here, let me help you with your outer layers and come sit by the fire. How long have you been out in the fog?

[ Konstantin lets himself be rushed in, grateful to be out of the elements, but he can't stop shivering, the movements of his body almost akin to spasms as he nods and moves closer to the fire. He's reaching to try and help her remove the thick, fur-lined coat he's wearing, fingers almost useless for how much they tremble. ]

Thank you. Not long — maybe not even half an hour. But it's.... intense.

[ He's folding his arms in close to his chest as his teeth keep chattering; it feels as though he's cold from the inside out, and the alien remains fitful, even with him standing so close to the fire. Konstantin tries to collect himself, expecting it to calm down soon enough, but abruptly there's a shove against the inside of his stomach and he cries out, doubling over and just barely catching himself against the mantle with one hand as the other grips his stomach. ]

Ahhh—!

[Randvi is returning from hanging the heavy coat to drip over a basin when she hears Konstantin cry out. She runs to his side, alarmed.]

What's happening? Your injury…?

[They don't really know enough about whatever magic had healed him to know if the cold or humidity would affect it.]

[ This isn't good. He's not warming up fast enough; the thing's freaking out. Panting quietly for breath against the shudders of his own body, he turns his head towards Randvi, nodding weakly. ]

Yes, it always hurts in the cold, but this is.... Mmmm. [ He gives a groan of ache. ] I think it's that fog, making it act up even more.

[ No fucking duh, Konstantin. ]

Yes, this fog clings, and it chills very deeply.

[Why were you outside! The people here are crazy sometimes.]

I - [How do you say this? It feels dangerously bold despite feeling no real attraction to him.] If you would allow it, my power could warm it more quickly.

[ Her power... Konstantin blinks, looking back up at the younger woman. ]

You still have access to it?

[ He hasn't seen Randvi since then, doesn't know if it's something that stays with her or flickers, comes and goes. It sounds like the former though, and he's slowly looking down at her hands, remembering the spark, the warmth. Admittedly, it's a welcomed thought, but his concern persists for a moment. By now, he's learned of some others gaining "powers" as a result of this place, and he can't help feeling like there's some catch. There has to be. ]

It hasn't.... had any negative side effects on you?

Yes. I believe that the effects are permanent.

Sometimes strong emotions can make it difficult to control, but I'm confident that I will not harm you.

[ Konstantin lifts his head a bit more, turning his body moreso to face the other. The last time he spoke to Randvi, she was... affected by that soup, he knows that now. Or at least he strongly suspects; it tracks with what Lalo had told him. And maybe it did alter her personality, but it's difficult to forget that glimpse of vulnerability he'd seen, however briefly.

He's not worried about her hurting him. This is a risk. (Right...? What if the creature freaks out? But then again, it shouldn't be much different from when Vasiliy heats up bottles and towels for him to use like heating pads to satiate it...)

He hesitates, closing his eyes tightly for a moment, body still shuddering with chilled spasms. ]

...All right. It's all right. Maybe just a short touch will be enough to— make it stop hurting.

[Seeing him so weak and sick again after he’d seemed so well at the party really is alarming. But if even warming by the fire isn't enough, what else can she do? Randvi has the means to try and ease his pain.

She does hesitate a moment before carefully rolling the hem of his shirt up with one hand, as if she's checking an injury.]

Tell me if I hurt you.

[It's all the warning he gets before she’s laying the warm palm of her right hand against the faded scar on his abdomen.]

[ He nods, keeping his breathing as steady as possible, but the uncontrollable shuddering persists, forcing his body into those little spasms. He can't remember ever being this cold; it's almost unbearable.

There's a tense moment when she first places her hand against him, but almost immediately Konstantin's giving a quick exhale of stunned relief. Oh, that.... already feels so warm. It's an instant balm, and he's closing his eyes for a moment. ]

It doesn't hurt. It feels— amazing.

[The last of Randvi’s hesitation bleeds away as the tension leaves his face. He’s going to be all right.]

You're so cold. Warming here should help warm your body.

[ Any lingering awkwardness about someone placing their hand against him — especially there, the place he shirks from being touched the most — is quickly dissolving in favour of so much needed relief. Randvi's right, it warms his core, which in turn warms everything else, and his shuddery breaths are slowly calming. ]

Thank you for this. I'm sorry to just barge in, but I'm glad you were here.

[ He should pull away now, keep it short, like he'd said. But the relief it brings is something he doesn't want to let go of, and he's lingering, staying, eyes fluttering close again—

—only for them to snap widely open when all of a sudden the creature squirms, with no warning, writhing slowly within him. Not in agitation; if anything, it's contented, no doubt intensely soothed. Maybe it's making itself more comfortable, adjusting its position to push a little closer to the source of that warmth, the woman's palm that radiates it. ]

[It's a relief to hear the man’s breaths even out, to see the colour return to his face.

Randvi is just beginning to wonder whether she should pull her hand away when she feels something rolling slowly against her palm. It brings to mind her last visit with her sister Thora, feeling the movement of her niece under her hand this way. The warmth she’d always felt for her sister's family had been tempered by the dread of knowing that this was her own fate now as well: to bear a stranger’s children.

Of course, feeling that here and now is impossible.

Randvi glances at her hand, then searches Kostya’s face.]

Does that hurt?

[ Fuck. Pure instinct tells him to flinch away, pull back as quickly as possible, but Konstantin controls himself before he can act that way. Instead he goes very still, eyes staying on Randvi's face. She.... felt it, didn't she, she had to. But she doesn't seem afraid, or disturbed. Probably she has no idea what to make of it; maybe she's stunned. But the question stuns him, and he stares at her for a moment longer before answering.

There's no sense in pretending he doesn't know what she's asking about, but how the hell does he.... handle this? Finally he's moving back, but it's it's slowly, calmly, taking a step or two away from the warmth of the woman's hand and pulling his shirt back down. ]

A little. But it's all right. I'm used to it. [ He tries to keep his cool, make everything seem less than it is, but the thing's already reacting to the absence of Randvi's hand and the comfortable warmth of what she can do, fitful, and he winces as he places his own hand to his abdomen, feeling it squirm inside of him — it's upset, confused. Another half-step back. He should leave. ]

I'm sorry, Randvi. There's something— wrong with me. With my body. I shouldn't have— I'll go.

I won't tell anyone.

[She still doesn't understand it, what she’d felt, but it's clear that he's upset, maybe even ashamed. He's in pain as well, as if the warmth had calmed whatever had been happening to him.]

The cold makes your condition worse?

[ He's tensed back, ready to gather his coat and leave, but he hesitates at her question. ]

Yes. It's.... much worse, in the cold.

[ Konstantin winces again, fighting to ignore its fitful movements, a wet, writhing thing; it nauseates him. He nudges closer to the fireplace, but nothing can compare to the particular relief that Randvi's ability is able to provide. He can no longer read its "thoughts", but it's safe to assume that the alien wants that relief back. ]

And this fog... ahhhh. Making it act up even more than usual. [ He smiles weakly, glancing down at himself as he tries to will a command to his "condition"... ] Stop it. You need to behave yourself.

[He looks worse now, almost curled around whatever she’d felt inside him. Randvi can't imagine that he will make it home like this.]

Stay a moment. Please.

I have a… [she doesn't know what it's called.] a waterskin you can take with you to manage the cold. Let me heat some water.

[ He hesitates again, that urge to run always so pressing, but Randvi isn't... freaking out about any of this, and he wants any relief he can possibly find. So he nods, and carefully moves to sit down in a seat near the fire, not quite able to stifle a groan as his torso bends slightly and the fitful thing inside of him sits so uncomfortably, continuing to writhe.

Konstantin runs a hand up to his face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment to try and steady himself, before he lowers it again. He finds words — grasping for any kind of distraction from the nearly unbearable sensation of the upset parasite, looking back up to Randvi. ]

You don't frighten easily, do you?

[ He manages to smile a little. ]

Whatever this place is doing to me — I'm terrified.

I don't know if I’d say that. If I let myself be frightened by everything here that I’d never encountered before, I'd never get anything done.

[As soon as it's apparent that he’ll stay, Randvi is moving: scooping water from a pail of melting snow near the fireplace into a metal pot and placing it over the fire; grabbing a hot water bottle from a drawer nearby.]

I'm not afraid of you. If you wished to harm me, you would already have done so. [It would have been easy when she’d been affected by the mushrooms.] If you pose a danger in another way, I trust that you'll do what you can to avert it.

[She returns to his side to wait, but doesn't sit. A bit more hesitantly:] What I felt before, is it a part of you or is it alive?

[ His smile softens as he dips his head for a moment, nods in silence — in his own ways, he knows how that is. His own fear rarely stops him from remaining productive. If anything, he keeps himself as busy as possible so that he won't fall into that dark hole. But there are times, lately, when....

...He blinks out of it, eyes lifting again to watch Randvi work as he listens to her words. They surprise him to hear, and he's staring, mouth tipped open a little.

'If you pose a danger in another way, I trust that you'll do what you can to avert it.'

It stuns him, and he sits there quietly for a few long moments. The question lingers. And he is very certain that there's no sense lying to this sensible, honest young woman. (...And she trusts him to avert the danger, and he can, he can do that by being just as honest, because there is still some threat that the thing might get so fitful after so abruptly losing its source of warmth that it comes out of him, any moment now.) ]

It's.... alive. [ He hasn't told anyone that. Only Vasiliy knows. ]

It's something that lives inside of me. I... thought it died when I was shot, but.... it's still alive.

[Randvi nods slowly, processing. This explains why a shot to the stomach would be employed in an execution.]

I didn't feel it moving before because it had also been injured and was near death.

[Whatever magic had saved him had saved this creature as well, either by providence or by design.

Randvi doesn't know what's happening, but he's clearly horrified and ashamed of his current state. Speaking to her must come at a cost, and she doesn't want to push him.]

I'm sorry that this is happening to you.

[Hesitant again:] Does it sleep? We could attempt to lull it to sleep with my power and then switch to the waterskin when it is less likely to notice.

[ Konstantin gives a soft nod, carefully moving to sit up a bit more on the sofa, barely stifling a wince. He's gotten used to a certain discomfort and even pain over these months, but when the thing is actively moving around like this... it's much more difficult to withstand. The question freshly stuns him, the degree of assistance she's willing to give him, even if cautiously. She would even... touch it again? He hesitates too, looking down at himself for a moment. ]

It does. It sleeps a lot — it's very young, I think. [ It spends nearly all of its time inside of him, larval. Tricking it like that is actually a brilliant idea and he's stunned by how easily she thought of it (Konstantin, who has no experience with children, is brand-new to the concept of using sneaky, necessary methods to put something down for a nap). ]

....If you're sure you'd be all right with that, then— [ Another wince as he strains through the words, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead for a moment. ] —I'm all for trying. This thing can't just expect to hold you hostage and be its personal heater all night.

[ A little laugh, some attempt to be light-hearted, even though he's nervous, worried. And.... embarrassed, which is not a common emotion for Konstantin Veshnyakov to feel. ]

My sister has four children. [Randvi smiles, a little awkward. They’ve barely said anything, really, but somehow this conversation feels intensely personal.

She sits next to him, visibly bracing herself before reaching out. Undoubtedly whatever it is inside him is moving much more strongly now, distressed at the lack of warmth after so long in the cold. Young, he’d said. It can't understand.

In as calm a voice as she can manage:] I’m going to touch you now. [And then she's rolling up the hem of his shirt again, fingers probing a bit more boldly now for the outline of the creature, so she can lay her palm directly against its body. The body of something living inside him, something he doesn't want, something someone had tried and failed to kill. Her hands warm a bit more and she takes a breath to calm herself.]

It's all right. See? You won't be cold any longer.

Edited (Missed a bracket) 2024-05-03 03:30 (UTC)

Four. [ His brows lift with surprise as he gives a soft exhale at the thought. ] No wonder you know how to calm unruly little beasts.

[ Again, he tries to keep this very awkward and assuredly horrific situation as light-hearted as possible, but it's... strange. His heart's beating a little faster than it normally does, faster than the heart of someone who has been trained how to stay extremely calm should beat. He's not used to this.. prickling anxiety. He realises not all of it is because he's told someone about the creature but because it's extremely uncomfortable to be touched... there. Only Vasiliy had — and it was so briefly, back when he'd done an examination of him, tried to decipher where the creature rested and if it was all right, not in risk of causing a rupture or blockage in him.

But never since then. He doesn't even like touching himself there — strangely careful with dressing and undressing, flinching if his fingers ever happen to graze the skin of his abdomen. It's disgusting, the thought that something lives just beneath his skin, inside one of his organs. If he thinks too much about it he wants to scream, to tear into himself and get it out—

He takes his own steadying breath, tries to keep himself as still as possible when Randvi feels for it and then places her hand there, his eyes moving up to the ceiling. One hand moves to the couch, fingers curling tightly into its material, tense. The alien's writhing like something unearthed from beneath a stone, fitful, but almost immediately— it stops. The warm is back, close and soothing.

Konstantin closes his eyes for a moment as he exhales, carefully. He can feel it moving again, but not so distressed, slowly nudging closer to the hand that rests against his stomach and curling up close to it. ]

....God. It really does like that. I've never known it to react to things on the outside like this.

[ But then, he's still so new to the thing, really. ]

Little Vikings at that! [Randvi endeavours to match his tone, light and a bit teasing, despite the writhing under his skin that she can feel at even the faintest touch. The feeling must be unbearable.] Ruffians, the lot of them.

[The creature reacts remarkably quickly to the warmth of her hand, settling against her palm like a well-fed kitten.

Randvi keeps her voice low, in case noise might keep it awake.]

It must not be accustomed to this cold.

[Randvi had located Kazakhstan in the atlas from the library, but she isn't certain about the climate there. Konstantin had certainly shown up in light clothing.]

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