another one for @onyxbird !
âOcctis returning the attempts at comfort under mental distress, in the form of "uh... would you like to hold my undead fox?" and/or the world's most awkward attempt to intellectually dissect and replicate the casual physical-contact gestures that were clearly Julien's go-to when Occtis was distressed. (Julien got a vision of undead monstrosity Raimond fighting Teor and Cyd even if he didn't go down there, which has to be fuel for some nightmares once he slows down long enough to think about it.)â
I love this so much, itâs absolutely THEM.
He hasnât said anything to anyone, but Occtis knows what they look like. Itâs one of the benefits of not sleeping anymore, that he doesnât have to endure horrible dreams any longer - heâs definitely had plenty in the past, something that just might be due to the constant influx of power from the Tenebral Reaches spilling into his family homes. So he knows the signs, even if Julien doesnât say a word. He shifts in his sleep, restless, murmuring sounds that are sometimes half-intelligible words, sometimes just noises that almost sound like pain. Heâs not getting adequate rest; there are dark shadows beneath his eyes, and his usually fluid grace is lacking, his movements stiffer and slower than usual. Occtis can hear it every time his heartbeat speeds up or his breathing stutters out of the calm rhythm it should have in sleep, though he doesnât mention it, either.
Julien will take it as pity, and itâs not. After what they saw in Obrimus Manor, Occtis would be having nightmares too, if he were still capable. And he didnât even have to glimpse whatever monstrosity his family had been making of Raimond Davinos. Thimbleâs description of it was bad enough; Julien had gritted his teeth and looked away with something like recognition when she had told them, and Occtis wonders if he somehow saw it for himself.
If he did⊠well, it would certainly explain the nightmares. Occtis can sympathize. But he doesnât know what to do about it.
House Tachonis were never big on comfort. They viewed needing reassurance as weakness, being beholden to emotions that are unnecessary in those of their station. So Occtis has very limited experience with trying to offer kindness to another person.
He considers what Thimble would do - though given this is Julien, thatâs probably a bad idea. The pixie has a certain brand of tactless forthrightness that, while it can be reassuring in its own way, isnât exactly comfortable.
He considers what Thaisha might try - but again, while she has a great deal of empathy and kindness, sheâs also a sort of direct that might not be the best option in this situation. Occtis canât really find any kind of solid pattern to follow that might create the results heâs hoping for, and this isnât exactly the time to experiment with trial and error.
Then he remembers Julien outside of Obrimus Manor, his attempts to keep Occtis from losing himself in panic and dread. He remembers warm hands on his shoulders, a bracing sort of contact, a slight softening in the otherâs typically caustic tone. He barely remembers actually leaving the Manor and getting back to Halâs house in the Rookery, having retreated somewhere deep into himself at the sight of his fatherâs murderous rage, but he remembers those touches.
Contact seems a common way to attempt comfort, and a language Julien seems to respond to. Which means that it would likely be the best option.
Trouble is, Occtis has no idea how to go about it.
Heâs not used to being touched, other than by a few select people. Even then, too much casual contact is overwhelming, something he doesnât understand or appreciate.
Still. Itâs the start of an idea.
He watches the rest of the party closely for the next few days, taking note of every bit of interpersonal contact, trying to judge and gauge its effect. Kattigan eyes him strangely, and Thimble makes a comment about him being weirder than usual, but Occtis continues to observe. He jots notes down during his sleepless nights, trying to find patterns, to make sense of what works when and why. Bolaire seems to recognize what heâs doing in some capacity, but he doesnât comment; now that Occtis knows what the other is, he wouldnât be surprised if he has a similar lack of understanding of this complex language of touch. Heâs had longer to figure it out, though.
At least Occtis is making some progress, beginning to find some understanding. So the next night Julien has a nightmare and wakes in a cold sweat in the dim hours after midnight, Occtis steels himself, and reaches out.
The knight flinches when a cold hand closes on his shoulder, jerking back and instinctively reaching for the rapier lying next to his bedroll. He stops when he realizes itâs only Occtis, and in the dim light, the arcanist can see the confused frown knitting his brow. âWhat are you doing?â
Occtis panics, just a little. Itâs far from the intended result, and he pulls back, grasping for words of an explanation. âUh. You justâ your dreams, I know youâreââ Shit. Heâs not good at this. This isnât academic, itâs emotional, and he has zero healthy framework to fall back on.
In that moment of mentally flailing ineptitude, Pin emerges from the pocket dimension heâs supposed to stay in, dropping directly onto Julienâs lap. The fox looks up at the man with button eyes, and he stares down at it for a moment - then starts to laugh, though quietly, so as not to wake the rest of their party.
Occtis winces, shrinking back as if he can disappear into the shadows on his side of the tent. âHeâs⊠better at comforting people than me, I guess.â The words are muttered mostly to himself, but Julienâs gaze darts back up, a flicker of something there and gone behind his eyes.
He half-expects the man to fling the undead fox away, but instead he lets a hand drop to Pinâs back, lightly stroking over the fur. Itâs a repetitive, soothing motion, and Occtis can hear Julienâs heartbeat slowing, steadying. He lets out a long sigh of a breath, and slowly, the tension begins to seep out of his muscles. âHm. I suppose he is useful.â The words should be insulting, but they sound calm, almost approving.
Itâs not how Occtis intended to help, but itâs still something.
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