[Good evening, House 32. Your wayward hero has returned to you after his quiet vacation right off of his mortal coil, all expenses paid by the Dreadknight. Or rather, he has been returned, and is sitting propped neatly up against the front door with his also wayward boot in his lap.
How odd.
But closer inspection might explain it, as he seems to have somehow bruised all of his knuckles, as if he was punching walls for the last few hours. Or faces. Faces are always a possibility. If the Malnosso are keeping a file on him, it probably says, "CAUTION. Subject is violent and belligerent. Keep restrained or sedated at all times." It would also reveal that he is not unconscious. He's just... having a little trouble coming to terms with the way the ground is moving. So he reaches up and knocks on the door, softly at first, but if he has to keep trying, it'll get louder every few minutes as his arm stops feeling like Halgitian jelly.]
Edward. Edward.
[He's only sitting here until his legs remember that they have bones in them. He'll drag his own drugged ass into the house if need be, thanks.]
[Written, Some Hours Later // Private to Leonid]
I have returned, and you are still here. You can never be rid of me.
How odd.
But closer inspection might explain it, as he seems to have somehow bruised all of his knuckles, as if he was punching walls for the last few hours. Or faces. Faces are always a possibility. If the Malnosso are keeping a file on him, it probably says, "CAUTION. Subject is violent and belligerent. Keep restrained or sedated at all times." It would also reveal that he is not unconscious. He's just... having a little trouble coming to terms with the way the ground is moving. So he reaches up and knocks on the door, softly at first, but if he has to keep trying, it'll get louder every few minutes as his arm stops feeling like Halgitian jelly.]
Edward. Edward.
[He's only sitting here until his legs remember that they have bones in them. He'll drag his own drugged ass into the house if need be, thanks.]
[Written, Some Hours Later // Private to Leonid]
I have returned, and you are still here. You can never be rid of me.
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chasethestars
chasethestars
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You're back! Are you okay? Are you alive?
Don't worry. I'm fine.
[Her attempt to sound stern kind of fails - Katie's voice is just a little wobbly, but knights don't cry, so she'll bite down on that urge and give him a pathetic scowl instead.
She's quiet for a moment, indulging in her hug. And listening to the flute - the fact that it's more clear now is a little worrying. But eventually, she'll take that extra space, climbing up properly on the bed to sit next to him, serious look on her face.]
Who was it?
You mustn't put yourself in danger. [He can't imagine why else she'd be asking such a thing.]
[And after fighting to keep her bottom lip from trembling - and failing, again - Katie gives in to temptation, curling in close and ducking her face against Sigmund's chest.
Knights don't cry. But maybe they're allowed to sniffle a little if nobody can see.]
It won't happen this way again. I promise.
...good.
[And then she'll take him up on that unspoken offer. She's been holding those tears in all week.
As long as he doesn't tell, it's okay.]
And he's no doubt made people cry about him countless times over the years, but he can count the number of times people have cried on him on one hand. This is almost certainly the first time someone has cried on him about him. He's not entirely sure what to do, so he just rubs her back. That's soothing, right?]
It's alright. I'm back now.
Your squire, he has the most telltale echoes]Do you need anything?
No, I've been well cared for already.
She still manages to give him a bow, though.]
Good night, Sigmund.
[Padding off to bed, yawning all the way.]