#mercurialstorm

[kerothi]

@mercurialstorm | continued from x

It's dark. Disgusting. Slimy, cramped and suffocating with so many bodies squished together. Jean can feel someone's elbow or knee digging sharply into his back. Can feel himself practically crushing Lyanna into the roof of its mouth. Every jolt, nudge and shake from the Cart's sprint making it impossible for any of them readjust themselves.

They don't see the daylight again until they've finally been spat out, dumped (thankfully) straight into a river - where Jean immediately lurches forward onto his hands and knees and hurls his goddamn guts.

"Ugh... I'm not gettin' inside a titan's mouth ever again..."

Onyankopon's the first to ask questions. When did he join forces with Marley? Why, when he could've secured his place with the Jaegerists? Of course, the poor guy's got no idea what he means when he explains how those old bones now turned to ashes would never have forgiven him for burying his head in the sand. And with no desire to elaborate further, Jean dismisses him with a splash from the river and tells him to go and wash himself off, just as he very well intends to do.

The next splash is one he takes right to his own face, with another grimace muffled into the palms of his hands before he swipes the viscous layer of nasty pungent drool off his cheeks.

When he eventually looks up again, he catches eyes with Lyanna and pauses there, trying to read the expression on her equally violated face and whatever she must be wondering. He blinks blankly at her. Then quickly tethers his brow again as he says, "What? Was I jus' s'posed to leave ya there?"

[jxwz]

@mercurialstorm ♥'d the starter call.

He knows the father better. Daryo Aarvik, despite the Eldian blood in his veins ( and likely because of how much he despised it ) was a formidable man to anyone that shared it with him. His loyalty to Marley had rewarded him with a high-ranking position, granted him enough power to deem himself better than the rest of them. Somehow. He might think so, but the red he still has to wear would say otherwise.

Daryo should be at tonight's events as well. It was a mandatory affair, begrudgingly attended by them all—some sort of 'gesture of good faith' they aren't likely to keep. It comes complete with the expected formal wear; the white shirts and black ties, and don't forget, the bands around their arms. His daughter's spotted first, following all the same rules that Porco is. Looking just as equally pleased about it too. That's sarcasm.

He acknowledges her with just a glance, dark shadows formed from the tether that's furrowed his brows down low—his typical countenance, not a personal scowl. Even if he isn't that close with Lyanna, he still knows her, and Porco regards her well enough.

The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children, in just about every other aspect of their lives. But he's never gone out of his way to see if she's just like her dear old dad.

[licentiapennas]

@mercurialstorm liked for a small starter!

"Staying out this late past curfew will make people think you’re up to no good, ma’am," she says. Ironically, she too is out late, but for Heather, it’s perhaps different—after all, the cleaning bucket by her side is a clear indicator of her purpose.

[kerothi]

@mercurialstorm || continued.

"Oh, m'sorry, your highness. S'there somethin' wrong with my attitude?" He clips back, his eyes wide and incredulous as he gapes at her. "Y'don't think maybe the gash in my side might have a li'l somethin' t' do wi' that, Lyanna? Forgive me if I might seem a little blunt."

Her poking around in her inspection of the severity of that wound hadn't exactly helped, even if that is what she's doing; helping. If he would just shut his damn mouth, that is... Jean huffs, snapping his head and therefore his scowl elsewhere. There is a mist of sweat across his brow and the counter he stands beside in support has his bone-white knuckles gripped tightly around the edge. His other hand is tucked behind his back where he keeps his shirt held up and out of her way, and frankly, he is just not looking forward to getting these stitches.

And he talks a lot anyway, but he talks even more when he's anxious—it's a problem.

"Like you'd be a ray of sunshine anyways..." He mutters, stubbornly. Not that he knows that for sure, he's just pretty damn confident she'd have some of her own venom to spit were their situations reversed.

[kerothi]

#why's he so orange cat coded i can't

" hEY- "

[kerothi]

mercurialstorm replied: "unapologetically doing stupid and/or slightly dickish things and getting away with it because you are very charming is peak orange cat behaviour, sir-"

" ... "

Heh. She said he's charming.

[verratensduo]

“I’m fine. The only thing that’s really bothering me, is you being all up in my business,” [From Lea to Eren 🦆]

“I am sorry. But I am concerned about you. You seemed really distracted in formation training today.” Eren gave the concerned look to her.

[kerothi]

“  for once in your goddamn life, let me take care of you before you make it worse.  ”

@mercurialstorm | prompts

"Would'ya quit naggin' me, woman; I told you I'm fi—" Lyanna snatches the gauze and first aid kit out of his hands before he can finish that sentence, and when Jean snaps back around, she's already giving him a stubborn look that tells him to try that again. . .

She acts as though she doesn't know that he's perfectly capable of cleaning up a wound. Alright, they're not usually his own in a hard-to-reach area on his side, but still.

"Ahh—fine. But I hope y'know what you're doin', don't go pokin' me full'a more holes jus' try'na patch up one." He rambles—and he rambles to distract himself, trying not to focus too hard on the fact that she continues to stare at him like that while he's unbuttoning his shirt. Fortunately the hot, burning sensation in his side provides a decent enough distraction from those few little nerves, and Jean's forced to be ginger about pulling the drape of the fabric aside and his arm back out of the way for her to see the injury. All the while he mutters, "If I want a butcher's help, I'd just ask Connie."