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Who: Relevant persons
Where: A second-floor apartment in Central Corehaven, Cepheus
When: King's Year 197, late spring
What: ~~Spam~~ Fushigi mysteries

* for what may be the first time in almost two years, the Core's Head Engineer hasn't reported in for duty in the last two days. *

* what do. *

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* silence. *

Open the door. Slowly.

[does so! the door might have jerked very slightly when she started to push it open, but she checks herself and swings it open slowly after that]

* it's almost as dark as the hallway in here, with the blinds drawn down the windows. But you can make out the books and papers and diagrams strewn on the floor, some ripped to shreds, spare parts and components and a half-completed contraption swept entirely off his worktable to one side. The sheets have been roughly pulled off the bunk bed. The air smells of old sweat, like it hasn't been aired for a while. *

* his figure is crouched with back to the wall opposite, knees drawn up almost to his chin, clad only in a pair of loose slacks. The gun he's holding out in his trembling hands is pointed right at your face as he stares wide-eyed at you through the dark. *

[She only barely glances around the room before focusing on Chrys, lifting her hands to show they're empty.]

Ch-Chrys . . . It's only me, see? It's okay.

* the gun stays where it is. *

Duck.

[d-ducks?! And looks behind herself]

* click-BANG *

* there's a new smoking hole in the ceiling down the hall, but nothing but air in between. *

* --and the gun clatters to the floor between his feet as he curls up further and wraps his arms round himself. *

There. There, I got him, clean shot, you saw that, didn't you? Didn't you?

[Even expecting it she can't help flinching at the sudden noise, hands flying to her ears]

[. . . w-wait what.]

[She looks from the newly made hole to him, any assumptions she's made already flying right out the window]

Got who?

The priest. The priest, light damn his eyes forever--

* ---shudders and jerks his head up. *

You didn't.

You didn't see?

There . . . there wasn't any priest.

.....

* shoves himself to his feet--cringing as he does-- and staggers towards the door with a jerking stiffness to his movements, like a marionette with rusted joints. his shoulders and chest gleam with sweat in what light filters in from the shuttered windows. *

[Ahhhh this is so not okay. Reaches for him hesitantly as he approaches, trying to avoid sudden movements. She isn't sure how much she trusts his judgment or reactions anymore right now, but she needs to get a good assessment of his condition]

Chrys . . .

* he doesn't pay any heed to her as he advances, but the moment her hand touches his skin-- burning hot and stiff as iron--- *

Back OFF!!

* ---and his arm lashes out sideways, hard. *

[She inhales sharply at the heat and tension in his skin, possibly to cry out in surprise, but she isn't nearly quick enough to dodge that at such a close range and stumbles back into the wall with a sharp cry]

* freezes at her cry, hand still poised in the air *

...

[ssssteadying against the wall, one hand up in a gesture that could be either placating or soothing]

I-It's—okay. It's still just me. I-I'm sorry I scared you.

...Ceres...

* hand falling away, he backs one, two steps away from her. *

Shit. Shit, I... I'm sorry, I....

[sh-shakes her head]

It's okay. I should've said something first.

N-no, it's not...

* staring at his hands, fingers clawed and quivering with tension. *

I can't. I can't make it stop.

You're sick. You should have called for me.

You shouldn't be here. You could-- catch. Whatever the hell this... is.

I could have shot you.

I've been exposed anyway now, so I may as well stay.

You didn't, so it's fine.

...

* just. lowers himself to sit on the edge of the bed *