golisolation | 💀 MoM IC INBOX 💀

[it's both nice and hard to hear someone who boasts of being so big, bad, and strong that they're hurting...that things are just a matter of surviving through. gods, this isn't wartime, yet similarities crop up like this now and then. it's no one's fault, so there's nowhere to properly vent the frustration that mounts in her upon sensing them. she can only exhale and nod, accept that they're there, and move ahead.

at the suggestion, she lifts her head, then glances over her shoulder thoughtfully for a beat before looking back his way.]

Do you want a lift down, then? It's faster and less dangerous than the remains of the stairs.

[He doesn't like admitting weakness like this, but it's made a lot easier when she's been so...accepting. She hasn't taken advantage of it, she has continued to be genuine and true, and maybe he's learning that he can, indeed, trust her. It's a weird realization, one that's slow going, yet it's freeing in a way.

At her offer, he pauses a moment to think about it. Those stairs coming up were...well. Lets just say Guzma thought for a second he was gonna bust through and add even more problems to his varietal stack.]

...Sure.

[The danger of the stairs themselves aside, Guzma's not too sure how well he'd balance going down them again, but he's not gonna mention either of those things.

And maybe, just maybe he's taking advantage of this to have that close proximity with Lucina again...]

[for what it's worth, the offer of being of use lets her feel better about wanting to touch him at all. it's not selfish of her to want that, yet even so, considering the circumstances, she can berate herself and think of a dozen other more productive uses of her time, so maybe makeshift-elevator will suffice for now.

with a soft, affirmative sound, she turns and walks back toward the accidental window, lifting off the ground into a hover just a few steps shy of it and slipping back out into the late afternoon air. with the bite of autumn settling in out here, it'll be soon an uncomfortable business, flying about...she's not looking forward to it.]

Come on, then! [she tries to perk up some, offering an arm and tilting so any shoulder-slinging is easy.]

[Guzma follows her, but a little slowly. He's still walking like he normally does, at least he's trying to maintain the illusion that he's fine. As much as he can, anyway. The slowness is the main tell, but he's there and still standing at least.

As she rises and offers, he smirks behind that bandana, taking her offer easily enough. With his arm slung over her shoulder, using that power of his to hold on because he knows he hasn't the strength, he readies himself for the discomfort he knows his body will be in. His muscles are sore already, but this will likely add to it, but less so than him...potentially falling through the stairs.]

A'ight, I'm good.

[his weight is, thankfully, virtually nothing. that pesky tendency he has to cut her strength from under her unawares seems to be moot, and it had better stay that way, or they'll both regret drifting out into the air like this...

as it is, though, it's an easy, brief little float down, with Lucina tilting to let his feet settle first before hers do, her hand still clasping the wrist secure around her shoulders after-the-fact. selfish? yes, she knows. but it may do well to ease some of the ache she's had to be near him just a little...or make it worse. she's not really sure how this is supposed to work.

in any case, it is what it is: her still keeping his arm where he set it, her head tilted down to obscure the anxious expression starting to overtake until she can quell it.]

...Your skin's still a bit clammy. [she fidgets her hold on his arm so she can press a couple fingers on his wrist.] Whatever's been set to coursing through you may not be fully spent.

[As they land, Guzma's body really highlights how it didn't appreciate that whole little maneuver, but he really doesn't care. This closeness is nice, and he likewise doesn't care that she holds onto him more. What he does care about is her comment, because while he's fine admitting his weakness, he doesn't like her getting further evidence of just how badly off he is.

He grimaces, but he doesn't pull away from her. He's enjoying her touch too much, even if it's incriminating.]

...Yeah, I don't think it is. Dunno how long it'll take, but your boy can handle himself.

But he better be willing to accept a bit of worry for his sake. [she counters mildly. the arm around his waist tightens a bit briefly before slacking and withdrawing, bringing her hand up so she can comb through some of her bangs.

she could tell him she thought he was going to die, and how much that distressed her. about how it seems to fall in line with her caring too much to the detriment of those she cares for...or her own detriment, for growing too attached that a loss hurts that much more. that's...a bit dramatic, though. it won't do to sound so despairing, especially standing in the shadow of a ruined place he cares about. there's enough on his plate without her adding her own troubles to it; better to help carry the weight than add on.]

It...might not be your style, but... [she peers up through her bangs.] Will you let me look after you? A little bit. And help you get back to a hundred percent...

Tch...

[That's about all he says to that, but he's appreciative of that squeeze, even if it doesn't last. He does enjoy watching her comb through her bangs, it's a little quirk of hers he's noticed, one that he likes.

Honestly, he wasn't sure if he was even going to survive that whole ordeal. Even when he was possessed. Fear gripped his mind all too keenly, stronger than he had ever felt it—especially towards the end, when he was cornered by those who were still standing and taken down. He was certain he was going to be killed then and there. Hell, when he was separated, he was pretty sure he had died then.

It pretty much felt like how he imagined it would: painful, disorienting, and the entire world felt distant and cold, and he felt so, so tired...]

...Look after me? [He repeats a little dumbly. The only one who did that before was Plumeria...the idea of her caring for him feels a little odd, but...] Like you wantin' to stay at my place or somethin' to make sure I don't kick the bucket?

[She might not want to bring up her worry about thinking he might have died, but Guzma's a little more uncouth than her about such grim topics. Sorry, Lu.]

[her eyes wince a little, face starting to heat up. when he puts it so bluntly...!]

M-maybe that's a bit much. Forgive me. But--maybe just...at least, right now so that...[she grimaces, getting flustered. with a huff:] Can I at least just get you back there? Since there's undead still roaming about?!

Oh yeah...

[He's been so caught up with dealing with the destruction of his base that...he kinda forgot about the stupid undead. Not that it wasn't...horrible seeing them, but he's still a little outta touch with reality with those toxins going through him. Certain things aren't exactly sinking in when they should, while other things are sinking in too much... he's a bit of a mess, both mentally and physically.]

Golisopod was takin' some of those dudes out while we made our way here. Pretty fuckin' wack, huh?

[That's a way to put it. But his expression shifts as he realizes he didn't answer her question, so then he quickly amends this:]

Oh, uh...yeah, you can keep me company as long as y'like, I ain't gonna complain none. 'Specially if you wanna get all nurse on me.

[Yep. He's still lacking a bit of a filter, not that he has much of one to begin with, but...]

[maybe it's a good thing 'getting all nurse' on someone doesn't hold the same implications in her head as they must in his, because she doesn't really bat an eyelash at it. besides, her attention's more on the prospect of getting him out of here.]

Very well. Let's get you out of here.

[her arm slips back around his waist, hesitating only for a sign of protest.]

—Oh, one sec.

[He takes a second, because it's clear he looks a little strained before and while he does this, but he calls out:]

Yo! Golisopod, c'mere!

[His voice cracks a little under the strain of it, and Guzma hopes she doesn't notice the wince. After a moment or two, Golisopod comes lumbering their way...blood on his claws.

Somebody's been busy with punching Zombies...]

We headin' back, return to your ball for me, yeah?

[After all, Golisopod can do that on his own. And he does! But not before giving Lucina a cheerful guuul!! as greeting. But then in a red flash, he zips back to his ball. Now Guzma loops his arm around Lucina as well, adhering himself to her again.

He knows he's gonna probably regret this, but then again walking back isn't much better, and he knows he can't drive right now. Which really says something, because Guzma's hardly a responsible driver...]

A'ight we good.

[the sight of the Pokemon's claws dripping with blood is... well, it's not a good one, that's for sure. Lucina spares a small, pained smile his way before he vanishes into the ball, letting out a soft sigh that's cut short with Guzma gluing to her once more. with a quiet, affirmative sound, she adjusts her hold and carries him up, away from the ruined base and toward the house. her pace is slow as it was that fateful day she'd conveyed him from Helix, and maybe a little less for fear of how the nip in the air will affect him.]

...You know, if your muscles are all achy and tensed up, I could help with that.

[the suggestion comes after reaching their destination and getting keyed inside, herself peeled free of him so she can take off her shoes and jacket.]

I'm told I'm very good at finding knots and kneading them out, that is.

[Like an idiot, Guzma's surprised at her offer, because here he thought he was doing a good job of covering up how tense and sore he is...but in reality, he's been moving so gingerly and slowly, it'd be hard for someone to not notice. He's likewise in the middle of taking off that bandana, his shoes, and his jacket, but he stops during the latter of which to look at her.

It takes but a second for him to decide, a pointed and painful throb pulses through his body, as if to help push the decision in the event he'd reconsider it for some fool reason.]

Y'know, that don't sound bad. It's stupid how tense I've been since that whole shit's gone down.

[It's...really not stupid at all, considering envenoming aside, what they all went through was pretty damn traumatic. Many times a day does Guzma think about that day, now that his mind is more clear, and too often does Lucina's battered form overtake his mind's eye. The way she looked at him, reached for him...

Having broken his gaze on her, he looks a little mentally distance as he hangs his hoodie on one of the hooks on the wall near the door. It's an awkward sort of transition of engaging her, and then blanking out like that, and he doesn't even seem to be aware...]

[her touch might cut through that without realizing it; she nudges him along once he’s got his jacket hung up, over to plop down on the couch. the prospect of being able to do him some real good beyond being a ferry of sorts lifts her spirits.]

Here, sit on the edge here! Let me...scoot back...here... [she climbs onto the cushion behind him, keeping herself propped up and balanced by hanging onto his shoulders.]

All you have to do is sit still and relax! Sounds good, right?

[It does indeed, though instead of a shock like a splash of cool water, it's more of a warm nudge back into reality. It's a couple dazed blinks as he finds himself being dragged over to the couch, and following her instructions. Sitting on the edge, as she clambers behind him, using his shoulders for balance.

He glances back at her, but then smirks.]

Heh, work your magic, yo.

[He really could use some right now... even his shoulders feel almost rock hard with tension, guess it's a good thing she's got super strength, maybe??]

Oh, it’s not magic! But I did learn a thing or two from my Aunt Lissa— she was a cleric. They know all kinds of ways to heal...

[once he’s sat and situated, Lucina takes stock, growing more pleased by the moment. this isn’t something she’d categorize as normal, but...it’s still good. certainly better than the sad state of him in the hospital. and to think! she can help more...!

with a thoughtful hum, she guides her palms along his tensed-up shoulder blades, hesitating for a beat as she’s briefly taken with a fluttering feeling. finding herself again, she gives a certain sound and, gliding her thumb over a noticeable knot, just..

pushes.

with way more force than necessary.]

[He doesn't even try to correct her, the way she jumps to converse about her aunt is pretty cute, and why would he interrupt that? In a way, it's relaxing and it gives him something to focus on other than how tense and sore he feels.

He lets out a breath, slow and relaxed, as his eyes slide closed at the sensation of her finding that knot. Anticipating relief as she begins to press and--]

Edited (phone wtf dont autocorrect shit) 2019-10-20 21:39 (UTC)

--GEHH!!

[Guzma immediately jerks forward at the force--or maybe that's the force that's doing it? Either way, he's jolting forward and seems to be SOMEWHAT TRYING TO GET AWAY FROM THOSE HANDS...

At the very least, he's bracing the coffee table with both hands to keep himself stable, because holy SHIT!!]

Fuck!! You tryin' t'kill me here?!

Ah-! Hey!!

[what the heck! is he THAT sensitive?!

tugging his collar to try and get him to sit back up.]

Of course not! You...you just must be too sensitive! I didn’t even press that hard. Come on, now...!

Sensi--your boy AIN'T sensitive!

[Fortunately since he wears muscle shirts, she's not strangling him when she grabs it and pulls him back. With great hesitancy he follows the tugging and sits up right again. With a wary glance over his shoulder at her, he...acquiesces against his better judgment.]

Just...go a li'l lighter, you don't know your own strength, yo...

Edited (I swear I know how to spell) 2019-10-20 21:51 (UTC)

[she tsks, steadying him with hands on his shoulders.]

I barely touched you, Guzma...I may as well massage you with a feather.

[she squeezes the muscle on his shoulder, testing some pressure.] Is this even too much?

[He grumbles under his breath, but as she presses, he winces a little bit, but...it's bearable.]

...Nah that's fine. That ain't so bad.

[Now that she's not going from 0 to 60 without warning...]

[right, good... she huffs a little sigh, relieved he’s not about to lose it again. with that heightened awareness to take it easy (okay, fine — maybe she does need to be more careful since she hadn’t tested a massage with super strength before...but not with that much drama!).

kneading little circles with her thumbs, she watches Guzma’s head bob a little and keeps eye for any other distress.

without the flinching, this is...quite nice, huh? his shoulders really are tense...and broad...luckily, any blushing she’s doing is safely out of view.

would this be considered a bit unseemly? even with their, ah...’arrangement’... she’s not sure, but it kind feels a bit like some bit of a thrill. maybe it shouldn’t, and she’s just strange.]

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