You Got Hurt by a Pumpkin?!

Painting with the magical paintbrush he had been gifted was a delight. With only a few strokes he could quite literally capture movement, the paint appearing to shift and flicker on the canvas. Was it cheating? If it was, Bastien didn't care. He had always believed that an artist was free to use whatever tools he could, as long as he knew how to make a good final product. As it was, he was painting something to celebrate his and Rexanna's engagement. Gold featured heavily, as the colour always reminded him of his beloved. Two hands, cupped, held a flower at the top - and two hands beneath prepared to catch it. He was unsure about the concept, but the idea had come to him in the dead of night and he hadn't been able to put it down. The thought player played a tune he'd heard once in a ballroom in Venice. He couldn't quite remember how it had begun, but the main portion of the piece had been beautiful, truly easily to dance to. His foot tapped on the ground as he hummed along. As he did, he began to wonder where Rexanna was. They were not the sort of couple that were constantly glued at the hip, but he usually saw her once a day at least; she had been gone for several hours. Probably nothing, he tried to reassure himself. ..But in case it was something, he promised himself that he could go looking for her in an hour. Bastien Start by admitting from cradle to tomb Isn't that long a stay Life is a cabaret, old chum It's only a cabaret, old chum

REXANNA

i was born with a knife in one hand

She isn’t sure how she gets there, hobbling and walking under the strain of her broken bits. An arm doesn’t work still, at least not well, but it’s increased in usability compared to how she was before. Melita helps her get to the Artist’s Guild, and she realizes how eternally grateful she is for the fiery haired girl. She knew the others would have helped her too, but it was easier this way. Especially while the bits and pieces of her knit back together, a slow and frustrating process. And gods she’s covered in so much of her own blood fluid? And she’s so tired, feeling like a waning willow, like any breeze will take her off her feet.

She bids the girl farewell, able to take it on herself from the doorframe, and she enters it slowly (gods, so slow) before she closes the door and leans against the doorframe, her working hand idly spinning the engagement ring on her finger. “Bastien? Can you come here?” She calls out to him, tired and exhausted, wanting to sleep until all her pieces are back together. Her body is coated in her own strange blood, mixed with the inky black of the blighted pumpkin, giving her pale skin an almost water colored look.

and a wound in the other

Coding base by Sky!

Bastien was taken from his painting and worries by the sound of Rexanna's voice, which was a great relief. Or at least, it was until he saw her. He didn't know what the black goo on her was, but he knew well enough what the fluid was. Concern flooded over him as he rushed over, hands gently on her shoulders, lifting just slightly, shaking, as he looked at the wetness on them. "Amore....what happened? Are..are you alright? Is this your fluid? My God, Rexanna, it's everywhere." He tried to pull her in slowly, towards a sofa where she could lay down. As he walked, an arm around her shoulders, he tried to swallow the panic and dread in his throat, knowing it would not be helpful in the moment. Bastien Start by admitting from cradle to tomb Isn't that long a stay Life is a cabaret, old chum It's only a cabaret, old chum

REXANNA

i was born with a knife in one hand

She aims to give him a smile when he sees her, but it’s lost quickly among the surprise and shock he gives in response to her own appearance. She can’t blame him, likely imagining she looks absolutely terrible in every way. But healing, and had she not Ascended, she doesn’t think she would have survived. Perks, at the very least. Her eyes track him as he reaches her, hands on her shoulders (while one arm still mostly limply hangs) as he lifts her slightly and her knees shake.

“I’m okay, I think.” Her voice is quiet, and she leans (more likely falls into him slightly praying to the Voice he catches her) to him. She gives him a small weak nod in response to his question. Yes, it was all of her fluid. And gods did she feel like shit for it all. Luckily for her, he guides her to the couch and she sits, wishing so badly she could breathe just to take a giant sigh of relief and feel it within her lungs.

Instead, she searches for his gaze. “There was… There was a giant vampire gourd heading into the Greatwood.” She explains, knowing how it sounds. Perhaps he recalls the other time she almost died, blood loss like a juice box at Lucas’ hands (teeth?). She reaches up with her good hand to grab onto his arm gently, soothingly, despite the graphic scene she portrays. “Remi, Melita, Sam and I all tried to stop it. And we did.” She explains, as though it’s some kind of triumph.

Which it absolutely was a triumph. She wishes Bastien could paint the scene, Melita riding Remi’s back with flaming arrows while Remi flies around the giant pumpkin with a barbed tail and sharp teeth. And she stands below, charging at the beast. Perhaps she’ll attempt to draw a crude rendition of it and see how he recreates it.

But ah, back to the tale. “It somehow managed to jump in the air, right when I went to go attack it… And well, it sounds awfully terrible and boorish, but. It fell on me, and Sam, but I got the worst of it.” She frowns slightly at the memory. “I think I broke my arm and my leg, maybe my hip? Melita helped me home. I’ve been healing. But I am okay.” She adds, searching his gaze for his response, her good hand reaching up to touch his cheek gently.

and a wound in the other

Coding base by Sky!

Rexanna was well enough to speak and walk with him over to the couch, at least, but Bastien did not find himself very convinced by her quiet reassurance of 'I'm fine, I think'. She certainly didn't look fine. Had she not been Ascended, he would have been sure she was about to die. As it was, he knew she would likely heal..but that did not stop the stretched out despair in his chest. "A...a gourd. Like...a butternut squash...?" He asked, tilting his head. Was she mocking him? It seemed like it, but she touched his arm and she spoke proudly of having triumphed over it - Bastien imagined her aggressively pushing a fork into a 5 foot squash. While the image was entertaining, it did not explain the fluid coating her clothes. Or the list of breakages she gave. "...Rexanna...I.." He sighed. "It seems whenever you leave the house you end up in the most bizarre peril every time." But there was nothing to scold her about; she was an adult and he was not the kind to lock doors. "...Let me help you get out of these clothes and...how about a bath? I have some powder to put in it that the woman at the marketplace said would help with injuries." Gently, he reached to take her first layer off, trying to be cautious with her broken bones. "Remi offered to me that we could have our wedding rings have magic within them. I was not sure what to ask for, but...perhaps something to let me see how you are would be good. How would you feel about that?" Bastien Start by admitting from cradle to tomb Isn't that long a stay Life is a cabaret, old chum It's only a cabaret, old chum

REXANNA

i was born with a knife in one hand

Bastien’s tilt to his head and comment on the creature still manages to get a small snort from her as she shakes her head slowly. “No, do you remember last Leafchange? There were hundreds of pumpkins with teeth that were attacking everything?” She asks with a tilt to her head, not occurring to her that perhaps Bastien had missed it, that he hadn’t arrived during the brunt of the battles between hungry gourds and people. “It was like those, just… huge.” She explains, raising a brow to him.

But she knows that she doesn’t have the best track record. She’s consistently in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he knows it to. Thankfully, he doesn’t scold her – the damage is done, and she’s made it home, and it’s a little mercy that she appreciates far more than he realizes. Her nature is to help, even if it puts her in a bit of danger, she cannot help herself. Still, she offers him a weak smile as her eyes lift to his own, giving him a small nod. “Okay.” It’s a weary agreement, but still one all the same.

He reaches to take off one layer of clothing, and she adjusts herself the best she can – bracing her good arm on the edge of the couch, watching as he lifts the fabric from her skin, peeling it off between the blackening of the blight, a bit of orange pumpkin goo, and the mix of it all with her fluid. She bites down absentmindedly on her lower lip as she helps the best she can to remove her pants and boots as well before her eyes flicker to him when he speaks.

And as for compromising? She thinks it’s probably the best idea. She gives him a slightly wider fanged smile, nodding her head slightly. She reaches out with her good hand, to gently touch his cheek as she focuses on him. “I would like that.” And she would, because it doubles as a means of checking in both ways. She could check on him and likewise, he can check on her. But her smile falters slightly as she thinks a bit more about the whole ordeal, and she runs her thumb along his jaw slightly. “I’m sorry I get into so many situations.”

and a wound in the other

Coding base by Sky!

"Oh, yes. That was just as I arrived." With his change of worlds at the time, he had not paid much attention to the toothy pumpkins about; he had never thought there would be a time where a vampire gourd would not have been his first priority, but Caido liked to throw curveballs. Taking off her clothes, usually something he rather looked forward to, was a painfully slow game of revealing even more horror; though he was relieved to not see too many cuts or wounds lurking underneath. He smiled as his jaw was stroked, but for the moment said nothing, just shook his head once and looked at her fondly. When she was nude he passed her a blanket (they couldn't feel the cold, but it just felt wrong not to) and stood to help her up, heading to the wet room. Rudimentary plumbing had been something of a surprise for him when he had first come to the domiciles, but he supposed with magic, it was a natural thing to be made. Gently, he sat her down on the edge of the bath while he began to fill it up, checking the temperature with his fingers even though it still didn't matter. "As long as you come back from your ....situations, I can at least say they will make good stories. You know...perhaps not here, but I was close to death several times myself in Venice. I understand how these things can jump upon you." Bastien Start by admitting from cradle to tomb Isn't that long a stay Life is a cabaret, old chum It's only a cabaret, old chum

REXANNA

i was born with a knife in one hand

She took the blanket with a soft smile toward him, not really needing it but appreciating the gesture regardless. And when he stands, and helps her up, she leans on him the best she can to get her legs to move. It takes a small amount of time, with her hissing with the movement (not because of pain, but because of frustration) they finally make it to the bathroom. He sits her down on the edge of the bath while he fills it up, and she watches him lovingly before he replies to her.

A soft laugh leaves her and she gives him a fanged smile, and while she wants to shrug her shoulders, they aren’t exactly working as intended. “I would like you to paint the pumpkin battle, if you’re up for a challenge of another sort.” She adds, seriousness lining underneath her humor. “I’ll even draw it up all crudely so you have an idea.” She jests before sighing softly and lifting a leg with her good hand to place in the water, watching as it mixed with the black fluid of the blight, and her own inner clear fluid.

She shoots a glance to him then with a raised eyebrow. “Which was the most harrowing?” She asks, giving him a bright smile despite how she looks, and she discards the blanket for the time being as she focuses on putting her other leg into the bathwater, waiting for his tale – for his dramatics and theatrics, waiting for the way his hands move about the air as though he’s drawing the story before her eyes.

It’s the little things like that, that make her realize just how much she loves him.

and a wound in the other

Coding base by Sky!

"Paint the scene of my own love being so horribly beaten? A little macabre, don't you think?" Bastien teased, but he would do it. The only difference between a tragedy and a victory was if you lived through it, after all, and Rexanna was sat right before him. He watched her carefully climb into the bath, hands hovering just over her skin to help steady and hold if needed; she seemed to know how to go slowly and carefully though, so he mostly remained a spectator.  Once he was sure she was not going to fall and hurt herself even more he relaxed and sat back a little, thought of which of his stories to tell. "The most harrowing...you could not ask for the most thrilling, the most fun? Sexy?" He laughed and shook his head. "But I do have a harrowing story. Like many of my near death tales, this one begins with me painting the portrait of a noble." In his minds eye he remembered the hall as it had been. Marble columns and plush red carpet, ornaments and wall hangings imported from the East above abundant food. All while people outside starved and sold their teeth. But that was not the point of his story (well, not this one, anyway). "He was an odd fellow. Went by the name of Bruno....I cannot remember the name of the house. I try not to fill my brain with Noble titles. So, I begin to paint him. As I paint, I notice he is looking at me more...intensely, than most of my sitters do." Mimicking the Noble's gaze, squinting at Rexanna and screwing up his lips, he laughed and shook his head before continuing as himself once more. "So after a while of this, I say to him: Sir, why are you looking at me so? And if you can believe it, he said: 'I have heard your people are savages. I am wondering if that translates to the bedroom." Bastien raised his eyebrows and leaned back, indicating his offence. "Well. Had I known he was simply interested in me, I would have told him no and that would have been the end of the matter. But he had now proven himself to be a bastard. So I had to do something." Leaving the story there for a moment he leaned over the bath and kissed Rexanna's forehead. "Is the bath alright? Is it helping?" Bastien Start by admitting from cradle to tomb Isn't that long a stay Life is a cabaret, old chum It's only a cabaret, old chum

REXANNA

i was born with a knife in one hand

She snorts to him and gives him a look before chuckling softly. “I’m modest enough to have it be the scene before I got squished, thank you.” She retorts, giving him a wink and another quiet laugh. The scene, before anyone had done anything, where pumpkin had sized up people, before the first arrow and firework were shot. It seemed beautiful in her mind, and it likely would have been before she had managed to end up under it.

She manages to settle herself in the tub with Bastien’s help, head leaning to the side of it as she looks to him expectantly of the story, one dark brow raised in interest as the water begins to meld with both fluid and the dark inky blackness of the blight. She gives him a half fanged smile at his response. “We have our whole lives for you to tell me the sexy stories.” She pauses with a light bat of her eyelashes. “A honeymoon too, you know.” She rolls her good shoulder in a slight shrug, the water mixing and melding more.

But she listens to him as she takes her good hand and a rag and rubs away the ink and fluid, gaze drifting to him occasionally as he spoke. A slight snicker of laughter bubbling as he mentions the name, with a small nod. “Only mine.” She reminds him with a slight tilt to her head, but she settles down to listen once more. And when he gives her the look her lips curl in a bit of surprise before she laughs with him. “Oh gods.” She hums as she runs the rag along her neck before dipping it in the water.

The story reveals itself further and she gives him a surprising look once more with wide sapphire eyes and her mouth that opens in a half disbelieving look. Before she can comment on it, he’s asking her how the bath is, and she smiles to him easily. “It is helping, yes. I feel less… sticky now?” She remarks as she dips the rag again and moves to to the back of her neck before finding his face again with her eyes.

“So what did you do?” She asks, a small amount of eagerness in her gaze and her voice.

and a wound in the other

Coding base by Sky!

"Then I suppose I could stomach it." Bastien agreed, laughing quietly. He did not often paint fight scenes, opting instead to paint moments of serenity and sensuality. Fight scenes were so...boorish, not to mention boring. But if it was for his love, he would power through it. He smiled to see her relax, hoping it meant her wounds were beginning to heal. "Well. The sexiest story of all will be our lives." Bastien tilted his head to concede his mistake, though Rexanna's name did not have the same effect to him, because he had not lived surrounded by the power of it knocking down those around him. It was not hard for him to stroke her jaw, to smile as he heard the bath was helping, because he had only ever known her as Rexanna, not as a symbol of the wealth and nobility he had always hated so. It was always nice to know he had crafted an interesting enough narrative to hook someone. With a slight smirk, he continued. "Well, for a while I played along. Gave him the odd hungry look, stroked his hands, enough to make him think I was interested. When finally he invited me back to his chambers, I went pretending I was perfectly willing. Past the banquet his father was holding and looking only at him, as if entranced. Though truthfully he had a flat ass and bad breath." With a laugh, he shook his head. "So we get to his room. He's all.." Bastien stroked a hand over his chest, putting on an exaggerated pout. "And he tells me 'show me how a savage fucks'. The last nail in his coffin. So I pin him down. He's very excited. I pull his pants down. And do not worry, this is not a story of rape - I am not a man of such actions. But I did want him to remember his insult." An amused smile spread across his face. "He was wearing the most ridiculous undergarments I have ever seen. So I grab his wrists and I say: 'Oh, let me grab you, like my people do.' He was so hard he nearly poked my eye out, though he hardly had the length to do so." Bastien chuckled at his own joke, then rubbed his mouth and continued. "So I hold on tight. But then instead of holding him down to the bed I lift him up. I take him to the door. At this point he is confused, but I was the stronger man by far. So I take him all the way to his father's banquet hall." "Would you like to know what happened after that..?" Bastien Start by admitting from cradle to tomb Isn't that long a stay Life is a cabaret, old chum It's only a cabaret, old chum

REXANNA

i was born with a knife in one hand

She snorts in response but agrees, reaching up to touch his arm gently as he mentions the best story would be their lives. There’s nothing she can say that denies it, nor does she want to, and she settles in to let him tell the tale, her face adjusting with the story as he tells it – falling in love more and more with the way he pauses, dramatically in certain parts, and rushes through the others.

When he mentions the man had a flat ass and bad breath, she wrinkles up her nose at him with a quiet huff of laughter, but lets her eyes wander his face as he speaks, imagining it and listening to see where it went. She gives him another small amount of laughter at the look he does to further paint the image in her head. But her head tilts as he mentions what he does, and clarifies, and she nods – knowing he wasn’t like that.

There was a part of her that had experienced men that did. She knew the signs.

She leans back in the tub and rests her head on the back of it while she watches him explain, offering a quiet laugh at the joke he gives. Her brows lift and she shakes her head slightly as she moves her good leg in the tub, rubbing a bit more of the pumpkin goo and fluid off. “You are strong.” She comments with a quiet snort before letting her eyes soften on him. “What happened after?” She asks, drinking in the story as he keeps her figuratively on the edge of her seat.

It’s unbelievable for her that someone could say such things and do such things, and think that it’s okay. There’s a small amount of anger at it that burns in her stomach, but she knows Bastien handled it – if he hadn’t, he likely wouldn’t have been here. He simply has a bit more restraint than she does, to prove wrong and make a point. It’s how he is, and she loves him for it.

and a wound in the other

Coding base by Sky!

"I am." Bastien agreed, taking a moment to flex his arm and wiggle his eyebrows. While he had not had as much time to work out his body in Caido, a lot of the natural stress and running about required to live there had kept him trim and his arms muscular. Perhaps, he thought, a regular exercise routine might be a good thing to have again. Perhaps some kind of class he could run for the citizens of Sanctuary? (Bastien-led aerobics at the temple at 8pm) Rexanna was such a good audience, so adorably interested. With a grin, he concluded his tale: "So I am there, holding up the wrists of a nobleman with his pants around his ankles and a whole banquet of Lords looking on." He held up his hand as if holding Bruno right before her in the bathroom. Laughing, he continued, remembering the moment himself: "His father manages to yell 'what is the meaning of this?' so I simply replied: 'Master Bruno asked me to show him the savagery of my people.'" His hand came down then and ran through his hair as he huffed out out the last of the laugh. "As much of a victory as it was, I knew I had no chance of making it out if I stayed any longer. So I toss him down and run, as quickly as I can - and the Cababinieri did not catch me for two weeks, holed up in my artist's Sanctuary." His students had loved the story. One of the hoi polloi shown up before his own - it was the kind of story drunk artists loved. Even when he had been arrested, they had cheered. Though, Bastien's face was sombre just for a moment. "They took me to a trial. Now, I knew the council wanted very much for me to be behind bars - After all, I was taking business from their horrible loans and too highly priced Operas with my housing and free performances. All they needed was the smallest shred of evidence." He let the suspense hang long enough that Rexanna might somehow believe he had been jailed, then broke out into a smile. "But this Bruno. He never came to the trial. Left a letter insisting he had never known me. The embarrassment was just too much; the best part of this was that he could not plot to kill me, for if he was found out, it would take him back to me. So I got away. As always." With a wink, he leaned in and stroked Rexanna's hair back, kissed her forehead. "It is lucky that last time I had you, because there were no Lords with stupid underwear to save me." Bastien Start by admitting from cradle to tomb Isn't that long a stay Life is a cabaret, old chum It's only a cabaret, old chum

REXANNA

i was born with a knife in one hand

The corners of her lips quirk up in a small smile as he flexes and shows off his strength before she snorts in response. He was, she had known that much, she could recall the first day they met shortly after he arrived, the lanterns with Ludo and painted canvases he had been so critical of. But he was built, muscular and just as handsome, even then.

Her mind returns to the tale he gives her as he concludes, and she leans forward slightly the most she can to pull her hair over to the side of her neck, raising the cloth to wash the column of her neck while she listens. And she laughs with him when he shows her how he held the man to the Lords. She listens on with a small amused smile at it, running the cloth into the water again before her gaze snaps to him. “Of course you did. You were giving it to the people and Nobles can’t stand that. You’d get a better punishment by pissing on their graves than taking from them.” She jests with a quiet hum of laughter, tsking him in a gentle way.

But he suspends and waits before telling her the outcome and her brow raises almost as if she’s about to beg him to continue the tale. To know if he had spent time in another jail cell worlds away. But he gives her a bright smile and she raises both eyebrows at the surprised outcome before she laughs. She’s still slightly humming a laugh as he leans forward and kisses her forehead and strokes her hair, and she leans into him the best she can.

He tells her that he was lucky to have her the second time and she nods, pulling away to give him a look that screams “of course you’re lucky” before giving him a small grin. “It would have been amazing for you to write a play of the experience and play it in the square.” She winks to him before pulling her hair to the other side of her chest to clean off the other side, the cloth running along her neck and brand as her smile falters slightly.

“I told you my story but not the most harrowing bits.” She offers with a slight glance up toward him. “There are things only one other person knows here, and the Voice.” She contemplates asking him if he wants to know, if why the idea that he had asked the Voice if they could have a child somehow, had meant the world to her. “I went through it all in my Ascension. She brought me back to Halyven.” Her voice is a bit quieter, but her eyes linger on him and the strong planes of his face, the sharpness of his jawline.

and a wound in the other

Coding base by Sky!