[open] help i need somebody help

[justiceis_red]

In the ballroom, near the grand piano, there is an auburn-haired young man lying facedown on the floor in a smear of blood. The back of his shirt is crimson and there are three clear puncture wounds, one near each shoulder blade and another lower, dangerously near to his kidneys. Light is in a bit of trouble

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[silvereyedphage]

Assuming this is later in the evening, there is a knock on the jamb of Light's door, then a cultured voice asks, "Might I come in?"

And there is an all too familiar pale man standing there. An energy vampire asking for an invitation to enter. Could it be any more cliche? Or unwelcome?

[justiceis_red]

Light is not exactly supposed to be on his feet at this point, but he is nothing if not stubborn, and supporting himself on counters lets him keep moving and not think too much. And thinking too much is definitely not something he wants.

(The painkillers he is half high on probably help too.)

He stops when he hears that voice, though, freezes, really, and stares at the door.

"What for?" He manages to ask, voice calm, casual. He doesn't know if Aramat went to him already. Doesn't know the situation in full. And that makes him uneasy and right now he has nothing, not even his full physical capabilities...

Not good.

[silvereyedphage]

"You don't look well and it would be against my duty as a physician if I didn't offer my assistance," he says, stepping across the threshold. "Might I ask what happened to leave you in this state?" he asks, his concern genuine, his tone concerned yet professional.

[justiceis_red]

Light stiffens as Muraki steps in, and pulls back, muscles tensing. "I've already been tended to," he says, not quite sharply. "So thank you, but your concern is unwarranted and I would sooner you waited for an invitation before stepping into my room in the future?"

The note of pain is tight in his voice, though, and he can feel his stitches tugging. He doesn't want to be on his feet, not really.

[silvereyedphage]

Muraki pauses in his tracks, one foot resting on its toe with an odd grace to it, as a cat would if it paused in mid-step when spotting something. "Forgive me, I'm simply used to intervening when a patient who ought to be in bed is up and about: early this summer I patched up a rascal who'd gotten the worst from a pack of wolves in the woods here." There's unspoken command here: let yourself rest and I won't feel obligated to tuck you back in...

[justiceis_red]

He relaxes, very slightly, when Muraki stops. "I was up to get the door," he says, deliberately, and leaning on the counter, though he tries to make it casual. Tries very hard. "And then I was planning to go back to resting. I'm not an idiot."

Just not always altogether reasonable? Er.

[silvereyedphage]

"Fair enough, and it was presumptuous on my part to barge in," he says, by way of an apology. "I'm likely too willing to offer my assistance where it seems needed. But might I ask what happened and who tended to your injuries?"

[justiceis_red]

He takes a few deep breaths, considering how to answer that. Namely, that he doesn't want to, but he has to offer something... he lets the breathing, pretending to be pain (or not so pretending) take up the time he uses to think.

"Someone attacked me. A Doctor Pascal apparently tended to me afterwards." He does not remember that bit very well if at all.

[silvereyedphage]

He has a feeling Light is hiding something from him, but he's not sure what it could be, yet he's not about to pry. For now. "Hmm, you couldn't be in better hands, aside from my own," he says. "I met him shortly after my arrival, when I wasn't in the best condition myself."

[justiceis_red]

Light takes a deep breath through his nose again. "I'm glad you approve," he says, with a touch of caustic sarcasm, though it passes. Sort of. "You were wounded when you arrived here? I assumed that the ...journey, however it works, cures all ills."

Apparently not. Interesting. Now how, and what did it...and how could it be replicated?

[silvereyedphage]

He notes that sarcasm, and can't help inwardly smirking at it: this one lets himself get ruffled by his nemesis so easily when his best defense would be to wall off his emotions. "I arrived here in the winter in the midst of a blizzard, no less, and I was rather lightly clad into the bargain," he says. "I'd opened a passage through the fabric of reality in order to escape something that had had me cornered, and I didn't expect to fall in through the canopy of a forest. The fall stunned me and I developed hypothermia from being exposed for the better part of an hour."

He's not about to mention the burns from the divine fire that destroyed his lab. Much less the fact that Tsuzuki had stabbed him in the back.

[justiceis_red]

Light takes a breath to control himself, and half closes his eyes. Control. Just because he's half drugged to the gills doesn't mean he can lose it. "Ah. That would, I imagine, be...problematic."

Classic understatement.

A sigh, and Light steps back. "If you're just going to stand there...come in. I'm going to sit down."

[silvereyedphage]

"After my gaffe a moment ago, I wouldn't enter without a proper invitation," he says, stepping into the room and finding the edge of a desk to lean against gracefully. "It's been a while since we last spoke: might I ask how you've been since then, aside from being attacked by some aggressor?"

[justiceis_red]

"Thank you," he says, or manages to say, keeping his voice and demeanor as even as he possibly can, though the wariness does not dissipate even a little. "I appreciate your respect for my privacy." He sinks down onto a couch with relief, deliberately not leaning back.

"As for how I've been...well enough. Bored. Sometimes this place is ...tiring."

And there was that...dream. He does not quite glance at the newly placed mirrors.

[silvereyedphage]

"Mmm, this place can have that effect on people," he says, glancing around. The energy in this room is different from the night of that dream: it's flowing more freely, like a stream that's been cleared of sticks and weeks that were slowing the current. "I haven't been immune to it, either, though I've managed to find a way to rise above that: I've been offering a couple of courses in the open university which a young professor of history has organized."

[justiceis_red]

"Ah, really? What kind of courses?" He doesn't sound...terribly interested, though perhaps...he'd expect everyone to be far below his level, though, and that was always frustrating to him the first time around. However, there are ...different perspectives here, and a class with Muraki might be a chance to get close to him.