Welcome to Gaia! ::

“I told you-” The words were out of his mouth as soon as Malikai’s boots hit sand and Naar thought he was close enough to be heard. Anything else he might’ve said instead came out as a chopped garble of a gasp, though, because watching Malik fight and slay the insects was at least rewarding insomuch that he was accomplishing what he was trying to accomplish. Watching him be torn into by snapping pincers was less encouraging. Or more so, depending on what was trying to be achieved.

He quieted, and scrambled to do as Malikai bid, turning away from the remaining swarm as he tried to reclaim his position on Abdu’s saddle. Better judgement told him to withhold commentary that ’it would’ve been enough if we’d left straight away.’ Malik probably didn’t need or want to hear it.

Outside of a need for urgency, Naar didn’t think much of the rapid process that had them both mounted on the same beast and pelting away from the vispirii. It was what he’d wanted after all. To get away from them and go about his business and probably be better off for it. The more potent prickle of unease didn’t ripple through him until Malikai’s arms were to either side of him, and Naar caught an unpleasantly unmistakable whiff of something metallic.

Right. Because Malik was bleeding. He held his breath and tipped forward half an inch- as much as he dared- to avoid it, pinching his fingers tightly into the saddlehorn as he did. Probably a hopeless endeavor, but it made him feel better to try. Naar swallowed and dipped his head. “This is how I suspect children to behave,” he muttered stiffly, taking in a shallow breath afterwards. “Rushing in like that… It’s like you didn’t think at all. Reckless. So reckless.”

“And now you’re hurt. You should- We should do something about that.”

Naar jolted; a stiff, unhappy twitch of his shoulders as Malik’s forehead dropped against him. He didn’t see himself minding a great deal, if not for the fact that Malik was oozing blood. And now doing so literally on him. There were a great many messes Naar was accustomed to and perfectly fine with. Being bled on was not one of them. He shivered at the thought and reached up with the intention of giving a pointed press to the top of Malikai’s head. Sit up. Get off.

But Malik sounded so genuinely concerned. And must’ve been, to the point where he’d actually engage in a pointless battle and be really terribly injured for it. It looked really terrible, in any case. Naarhiji sighed, and though he meant to push, his fingers slipped through the short, sweaty, messy strands of his companion’s hair, petting lightly. “No,” Naar admitted almost grudgingly. “I’m not hurt.” Malikai moved off on his own accord, sitting back to eye him warily, and Naar relaxed. It really pained him to say it, but it felt necessary all the same, “You did well, Malikai. Thank you for protecting me.” He tipped back, pressing his shoulderblades to the other man’s chest and craning his head to land a light kiss to the underside of Malik’s jaw.

He did have a way of ruining things.

Naar bristled, tipping his head back to glare at the man through narrowed eyes. “How can you say something like that so calmly?,” He griped, smacking his palm against Malik’s knee in retribution. “‘Might be poisoned.’ ‘Might lose another limb.’ You can’t possibly be alright with that! I’m not! You shouldn’t have been hurt at all! Don’t try and sound like you’re okay with it. And don’t let whoever ‘they’ is take anymore of your appendages! Do you hear me? And don’t- Don’t try and hurt yourself, you big dummy. Stop moving it. That’s- Why would you-” He huffed. “I don’t think you can make it back home like that. Or… camp. Base. Whatever you call it.”

Malikai must be completely delirious. Carelessly saying- No, it wasn’t even ‘careless.’ It was as though he found the situation and his added commentary on it humorous. It was anything but. Though maybe that’s what happened why you hacked people’s limbs off for a living. Naar grunted stiffly, tipped his head down, shut his eyes, and notched his shoulders back against Malik’s chest. “You shouldn’t say things like that at all,” he muttered. “It’s like intentionally inviting the possibility that it might happen. You’re already hurt. I don’t know why you want to rub salt in it by entertaining the idea that something worse could happen.”

He sighed and reached to layer his fingers over both of Malikai’s arms. “Dummy,” he grumbled. “What even are your priorities…?” Gushing blood and talk of poison and loss of limb, but ’I’ll take you home first.’ Truly, Naarhiji didn’t think he’d ever met anyone more idiotic in his life. Or anyone less self-serving. Regardless, at the time, neither seemed like good traits. “You could stand to look after yourself a little better.” He informed the other man tartly. “I know the city. It’s not as if I couldn’t make it back on my own.”

Naar huffed, fidgeted, and squirmed about to shook Malik a quick look. “But if you’re insistent on taking me home, I suppose it’s fine that you get yourself as fixed up as possible while you’re there. I did say that I didn’t exactly want to see you off on your own anyway, didn’t I?” He settled back in Malikai’s hold with a soft ’tch’ of a sound. “Sometimes I get the impression that you shouldn’t hardly ever be trusted on your own… Silly man.” He turned to touch his lips in a quick kiss to Malik’s bicep before facing forward again.

“Does anyone really have a favorite kind of insect?” Naar snorted. “Up close, they’re all really disgusting, with their spiny little hairs and their spindly little legs and their gross segmented bodies. They’ve all got really ugly eyes too. I’m certainly not jealous of those.” He clucked his tongue thoughtfully. “Ladybugs are okay, I guess. Small and cuter than most and not parasitic. I appreciate things that don’t try to eat me. Why? Are you going to say vispirii are your favorite?"

“Mmm…” Naar’s disagreement came as a quiet hum. He leaned back, dropping his head against Malik’s not grievously wounded shoulder before deciding, “Nope. No, that’s not the way to go about it. You’re supposed to think positive. It gives the air, er, good energy, or something. Promotes life force. And that way, even if things took a turn for the worst, you can enjoy the time before they do- not worrying about how you’re going to function in life with one arm. Or whatever else you’re applying the statement to. There’d be time for that after.”

Right. He was absolutely the one to be reminding all who crossed him to ‘think on the bright side.’ Because Naarhiji certainly practiced positivity in all his many endeavors. Not that he’d been dropped into a great many highly unfavorable situations that had ever turned toward the worst they could be.

Regardless. He gave a roll of his shoulders and touched his lips to Malik’s neck. “The trouble’s guts are spewed all across the desert. Maybe it’s just me, but I’d call that pretty well finished.”

Naar’s expression pinched at the latter statement, and he sat a bit straighter before twisting about in the saddle as much as could be allowed and fixing his gaze on Malikai’s face. “Are you?” He demanded almost accusingly, his lids narrowed. “Lonely?” It was a strange thing of the other man to say, wasn’t it? Malik was friendly enough and honest and genuine and literally the only reason Naar could fathom him- or any soldier- coming to a brothel was for the a** (or whatever other downtown business they were interested in). That he’d even mention ‘lonely’ in passing or otherwise just seemed… off. He shook it off. “But if this is ‘better at life,’ I’d hate to see otherwise…”

Admittedly, he was pleased they managed to make it back altogether. And as Naar accepted Malik’s hand and slid from the saddle, he found that this, too was a much more acceptable way of dismounting. Despite feeling the need to assert that was wasn’t particularly fond of them, he kept quiet, and gave his companion’s arm a gentle, encouraging tug toward the door.

Inside was significantly less welcoming than Naarhiji had expected. He’d imagined a quiet emptiness, so while the foyer was neither loud nor bustling, it also wasn’t completely devoid of life. Hadelric leaned against a pillar, taking a drag on his smoke while Uncle Remalus stood before him, engaging in quiet, suspicious-sounding conversation that Naar couldn’t quite catch. And he had the distinct and unwelcome impression that they’d been waiting.

Rem’s attention shifted to them immediately, his wings drawing in and his tail curling stiffly behind his legs. “Where have you been?” He gave a fraction of an inclination of his head, managing to make it apparent that he was ‘eyeing’ Malikai with not-so-thinly veiled disgust. The tip of his tail flicked, and his focus went back to Naar.

“Out,” the younger man retorted. “I told you, I-”

Elric exhaled, and a rush of smog cascaded around him. “What happened to you, big boy?”

”Nothin’.”

Hadelric’s lashes slipped lower, scrutinizing the older Orderite with some mix of impatience and annoyance. He grunted stiffly and tapped the tip of his finger to his cigarette. A sprinkle of ash drifted to the floor. “Rrrright,” he retorted in a dull tone laced with disinterest. He inclined his head, attention sweeping from Malik’s face, down his body, and back up again pointedly. “That’s what it looks like.” Naar resisted the temptation to scrub his palms against his lids. It really shouldn’t be possible to dislike someone a little more every time they spoke, but somehow, Elric managed it.

Naarhiji shifted closer in at Malik’s side, in what he hoped was a soothing or reassuring gesture, as he brushed lightly against the other man’s arm. If it was Malikai’s fault that bugs had attacked them in the desert, then surely it was Naar’s fault for inviting him him to clean himself up and then allowing him to be pestered by these two. He couldn’t help but shoot his companion a brief grin at the jab to Elric, though. Anyone would’ve deserved that much.

Elric only smirked and shifted his weight. “Consider it a favor to you, oh noble warrior. Shortening my life without any input from you at all. Since I’m doing all the dirty work, you might as well just relax; have a drink, enjoy your dates, ******** teenaged boys. The usual. Whatever you can get away with, hm?” He took another long drag.

The ripple of irate indignation was stronger this time, drawing a terse frown onto Naar’s face. He took a step forward, brows furrowed and face scrunched. The very picture of dramatically distressed female. “It’s not your business, anyway,” he spat, voice high. “It’s-”

“It’s mine,” Remalus asserted. “That’s exactly what it is: my. Business.” He moved toward them, brushing his fingers dismissively against Naar’s face and shooing him off to the side with a flippant wave. “‘We,’” Rem repeated. “Why do you keep saying that? There is no ‘we’ here. There is no ‘we’ between you and anyone else in this room. There is only ‘you.’” He stood straighter, crossing his arms behind his back. His wings stretched outward. “And your business here has long since reached its end.”

“I’ve been grossly patient with you and your…” He tipped his head, attention flitting to his nephew before straightening again. “perversions. But my patience thins. Get out, and do not come back. My employee's time is not yours to waste.”

The first thing that crossed Naar’s mind as he stood near between these two squabbling men (that is what it sounded like to him- bickering, chirruping farm birds) is that he ought to have said something sooner. Or anything at all, really. And yet he was never quite able to settle on one thing that seemed appropriate or worth anyone’s time to interject. He could’ve said a great lot of things, but something about the ripple of tension that swept through his uncle’s frame and the stiff curve of his wings- angled up, as though it would make him appear larger- or the fact that this was as close to an argument as Naarhiji had ever heard come from Malikai, kept him from doing much else besides shifting his gaze between them.

Admittedly, he wasn’t sure if he was pleased that Malik seemed concerned enough with his upbringing that it merited mentioning or offended that he was insulting Naar’s choices. There wasn’t anything wrong with being able to ‘prostitute himself the moment he was old enough.’ It was what he’d wanted to do.

And still did. Nothing wrong with that at all.

Remalus’ lids widened, his brow furrowing and his tail snapping off angrily to the side. Was it his choice to not listen, or could birds really only pick things up in teeny tiny pieces? “It’s not ‘your concern’ at all, is the point. And regardless of which role I’m taking in his life, that doesn’t change. As a wise and beloved family member, I’m telling you not to ******** with him. As an employer, I’m telling you not to ******** with him. My concerns far outweigh yours on any scale.” His tail lashed again, in the opposite direction.

The bird touched him again. Rem’s gaze pinned to the spot Malikai’s fingers had just vacated, and mutated cross between a hum and a snarl slipped from his throat. Naar shot him a huffy, pouty-lipped glower and turned to move after the bird.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Remalus hissed, catching him by the arm and tugging him back in. “I’ve treated you like an adult, Naarhiji. Behave like one. Listen to your superiors. I’ve made it clear now, not just to you, but to him- both of you.” The older man flicked his arm away, and Naar tugged it in with an indignant huff. “Choose to behave as you will, but whatever happens after this point is based solely on your ‘choices.’” He turned, crossing his arms behind him and taking quick strides toward the hall. “You’re dismissed-” Naar took a step back toward the door. “-to your room for the evening. Go.”

Naturally, Naar would’ve preferred to do otherwise. He still didn’t trust Malik riding home on his own in his condition, but now that he wasn’t looking immediately at it, it didn’t seem as significant a problem as it once had.

He’d be able to take better care of himself in his own quarters, anyway. Surely that much was true.

With a withering exhale and a snapped, “Fine,” Naarhiji stalked off to his room.

He wanted a bath. A long one, with piles of bubbles up to the tips of his ears, candles that smelled like anything but honey, and a small mountain of sprinkle-and-chocolate covered strawberries. But being out of his room seemed to falsely imply that he wanted or would at very least be receptive to interaction, and Naarhiji simply had no patience for anything of the sort. That and he did not have a mountain of strawberries to entertain himself with. So instead of a long, relaxing soak, he settled for a quick rinse, one that he would later realize had failed to remove much of the gritty granules of sand from his hair. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

Naar was quick to return to his own chambers after that. He spent several long minutes pacing and grumbling, too anxious and irritated to focus on anything. It seemed more than likely that Malikai would not come back to the brothel. Because he’d been told not to, and Naar had never expected he was all that great at being disobedient. Of course, he’d met Malikai outside more than once just by pure happenstance. It wasn’t like they’d never meet again just because he wouldn’t come here.

Right. It was nothing to be irritated over. No one could stop Naar from going out. He settled on the edge of his bed with a scoff, picked up a book, scanned through several pages, realized he didn’t have any idea what he was reading (obviously the book’s fault for not being interesting), groaned, and rolled off the edge of his mattress and onto the floor in a heap.

He lay there, huffy and squinting across his rug to whatever articles had made it underneath his furniture that he’d never bothered to find and retrieve. Crumbled bits of clothes, empty bottles of lotions and oils, brushes for dusting glitter on his cheeks, and- His lids narrowed further, straining to make out what he hoped was a forgotten chocolate ball.

Not that he could recall a time when he’d allowed one of those to go forgotten. But better to assume that than try and discover anything else about the dark-stained blob of suspicion hiding beneath his wardrobe. Why would he be eating over there in the first place? It seemed a long way for a chocolate to travel across the floor. No, surely it had to be something else- But, no gross, it looked gross, and why-

There was a tapping on the glass of his window that made Naar jump and snap up from his place on the floor. For several seconds he stared, frozen at the window. He should probably ignore it. That would be the smart thing to do, right? It was probably just sand and dust whipping against the glass, and if it wasn’t, then he probably didn’t want to deal with whatever strange creeper snuck around the backway. He was on the floor, besides. It didn’t seem likely that he’d been seen.

In the span of five seconds it took him to think it, Naar decided he was being grossly paranoid over near nothing. Surely he’d dealt with enough for the day, without adding more to the list. He rose, scooped away a handful of curtain, and beamed.

“Malikai,” Naar chirped softly, clicking open the lock on his window and (with only minimal amount of struggle) hefting the pane of glass up. He was probably imagining the complete lack of thrill on the older man’s face. Naar hadn’t even hardly done anything out of the ordinary, and his heart was pounding. “You big idiot,” he scoffed, face still bright with glee. He reached out, taking up a fistful of Malikai’s coat and tugging encouragingly in. “What are you doing back here? You’re going to get. In. Trou-ble,” he warned in a teasing sing-song voice.

In retrospect, he hadn’t really taken into account what anyone might do with a little liquor to aid in the process. While usually he wouldn’t have encouraged such things, this particular instance didn’t seem worthy of reprimand. Naarhiji leaned over the windowsill. “You can come in if you can be quiet.”