[He pushes himself to his feet and makes his way to the door. When he opens it, there's a terrific sight for Bell to take in: he's shirtless and his tattooed body has smears of dried blood all over it. Karis' claws have made lovely puncture wounds around his neck and the blood has clotted over. There's dried blood on his chin and he generally looks like hell.]
[For some reason, this is a lot more comforting than someone falling over him in concern. When people do the that, Glaukir often feels like he has to comfort them. Her anger, though, leaves him free to step back and close the door after she's come in.]
I met a zombie. She got scared, her pal came to kill me.
[She knocks a few things over looking for a clean cloth, and then sticks it under the sink, turning the water on too far to get it wet before turning it off again and ringing out the cloth.]
Goddamn, fucking Erol. I fucking hate that fucking ginger.
[Belle turns toward him and starts wiping away the blood in a surprisingly gentle manner, despite her tone. She makes sure to avoid the actual wounds as she admires his tattoos.]
[He's thirsty, very much so and for a time Glaukir just brings water from the sink to his mouth in his cupped hand. He drinks until the pain in his throat is too much and then he leans on the counter, arms braced, while Belle wipes him down.]
[Glaukir runs his fingers around his throat. It would be easy to heal up the wounds, but he's still not sure of his motivations. Besides, maybe they'll scar.]
My room.
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... hi.
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What the fuck happened to you?! Why were you gettin' death threats?!
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I met a zombie. She got scared, her pal came to kill me.
[He coughs.]
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You mean Celeste?
[She rubs her face tiredly and paces around his room, barely able to look at him.]
Fuck, don't get yourself in trouble like that. You know I looked all over this goddamn boat?!
[She finally takes a look at him.]
Look at all that fucking blood. Get into the bathroom.
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[He coughs again. His throat is rough.]
Didn't catch her name. I killed her pal and Erol came, tied me up. A younger zombie came to finish me off but...
[Obeying her instructions, Glaukir allows himself to be herded into the bathroom. It's kinda nice to be looked after in such a brusque manner.]
I told her that she didn't have to be afraid and that I was proud of her.
[He rasps out a laugh and bends over the sink to drink.]
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Goddamn, fucking Erol. I fucking hate that fucking ginger.
[Belle turns toward him and starts wiping away the blood in a surprisingly gentle manner, despite her tone. She makes sure to avoid the actual wounds as she admires his tattoos.]
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...
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You're fucking lucky I get myself so worked up over you.
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[Glaukir runs his fingers around his throat. It would be easy to heal up the wounds, but he's still not sure of his motivations. Besides, maybe they'll scar.]
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Why would I leave?
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Because I can take care of myself.
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If you want me to go, then I'll go, but I didn't come here because you're some helpless blind guy. I don't do that.
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[Guilty because he shouldn't ever need help, because he's the helper and not the help-ee.]
Thank you.
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Yeah.
[She sighs.]
Still want me to go?
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