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In truth, Nines was not in the position to give half a damn about whether or not the staff would be cleaning his chambers. Perhaps after things cooled down and he finished recovering he would have settled his mind down, and he would recognize his folly. After all, before being roped into his own living nightmare, he had been essentially lowlife scum himself, and was brazenly unapologetic about such a background.

But for now, he was despairing over the thought that his brother was within the freakshow's talons. At least, he strongly suspected it was so; clearly the collar was keeping very close tabs on him to know when his dead limbs became *more* dead.

And of course, Kuni was only serving to further drive him to the point of howling madness.

Quietly, at first, Nines began to respond to the voice leering in his mind.

I swear, if you don't shut your goddamn mouth I am going to exorcise you from my head WITH A GODDAMN PAIR OF PLIERS!

He hadn't meant to yell, but what began as a whisper grew to a ragged shout at the phantoms that haunted him.

Yeah, go ahead. Good luck with that, and enjoy being stuck in a box for the foreseeable future.

The words were hissed between clenched teeth, but then the voice was gone. And thus, Nines went to work. The IV drip had been knocked over, meaning he needed to set it back up. Leaning over the bed, he set it all up, and made sure any spillage was taken care of by means of a worn old t-shirt. From there, he leaned back on the bed and took to staring off into space. Inevitably he would drift off to sleep, for he lacked his usual means of inducing insomnia.

When Nines awoke, he was in crimson sweats. The IV drip had long since emptied, and the sheets were stained. He grumbled, cursing under his breath at the sudden expulsion into the world once more. He hated sleep; he truly, truly did. Not because of the sleep itself, but because waking up was never a pleasant process.

Leaning forward, he let his head sink into his palms, and rubbed at his eyes. A night's rest hadn't done much to improve his spirits, not when he had something else wrestling his mind into its own designs whenever he slept. Moreso, he still believed he had compromised his closest kept secrets, and the degree of frustration and rage aimed at himself for nearly severing his only lifeline still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Regardless, he had work to do. His limbs were restored. He wouldn't question; he wasn't sure he wanted to accept such things out of hand. That voice tried to be so very tempting, and Nines wasn't having any of it. Perhaps he was being stubborn, but in truth he was simply terrified of the consequences. So he distracted himself. The sheets were stripped and taken to the bathroom suite. It would be long work, but Nines had hand washed blood from linens fairly often in the past. It would be a good displacement for his thoughts.

For several hours, housekeeping kept Nines busy. The sheets were cleaned, the IV and stand carefully set aside, the room tidied, the works. Of course, he could only do but so much, which meant he would need to vacate and find himself a source of materials for proper cleaning; otherwise the sheets would be well and truly marred permanently. Considering the bridges he had already burned, he would not ask to take from the household stores; it would be in very poor taste. But he would need to speak with someone to do so, and so when he did venture from the chambers, there was the very awkward feeling that he had no idea who to approach, just because he strongly suspected no one would give him the time of day, much less stand to long enough for him to explain his apologies and need to speak with Jan.

Uh...yes, I suppose...are you okay? I know I, well, screwed up royally.

Nines was rather put off by the usual sharp greeting Jan offered. Of all the things he expected, the standard polite and professional manner was not it. Still, he forced some composure back into his system.

The lady made standing orders, and while I do apologize to the staff for mouthing off, I mean to respect her orders. But...if I'm going to wash up the sheets properly, I'm going to need more than bath soap. Trust being at a premium now, and not wanting to burden the household staff, I wanted to ask advice for how I could get some proper detergent.

Whole...I...wish I could say the same, but that's something for another time. Still, its, I dunno. Thanks, I suppose is what I mean. Thanks for having the heart to care.

There was a very awkward pause after that, as Nines tried to figure out where to take things from that point.

I...think it would probably be best to give the Lady a little while longer before we speak again. Our last words were not good ones, and I don't trust myself to not speak out of line again.

I've noticed. It makes things difficult; I'm too used to keeping things strictly business.

A sigh, and a polite farewell saw them part. For his own part, Nines returned to his chambers to sit quietly and try to clear his head. It was difficult, considering the magnitude of things he was wrestling with.

When Jan entered, and broke his concentration on blanking his thoughts, he would find that the young caitiff had moved some of the furniture aside to make room for some basic calisthenics, but otherwise the room was as pristine as it could be made to be without necessary supplies. Nines, for his part, sat calmly in the middle of the room, hair tied back and eyes only just quirked open to see who had come.

Jan? Diligent as ever...I'd meant to knuckle up and fetch things personally, but certainly this is nice. Just..uh...set it over here by the wall?

Funny, that.

To that, Nines simply crawled to his feet and left the vitae where it lay. While certainly he was hungry, he wasn't enough so to just gorge on the spot. Instead, he began organizing the equipment brought to him.

No, Jan, this is more than plenty. Thank you.