[open-ish] hard to be soft, tough to be tender

[scowlish]

Who: Onni Hotakainen and whoever
What: a catch-all
When: Oct-Nov
Where: Wherever!

A catch-all for various random Onni interactions through October and November. Shoot me a message if you want to plot something.

Comments

Barracks, Mid-October

[abheirrant]

[While Reynir may be right in that Carlisle cannot incorporate his runes into glyphcrafting, he's not yet ready to give up on the notion; however, he has yet to have even a modicum of success. Whether it's because he is a poor glyphcrafter, or because there is some language-based component to Reynir's glyphs that he's largely unaware of, he hasn't managed to determine.

So back he goes to Reynir's dwelling in the barracks after a couple of weeks, runes in hand. True, he probably should have just called the lad, but he was out and about anyway, and when one doesn't sleep, it's easy to feel the hours go by where he hasn't interacted with a single soul. He's normally solitary, but also lonely -- he finds himself more of the latter than the former these days.

He knocks on the door, idly hoping he's not interrupting something important. That would certainly teach him to call first.]

[scowlish]

[Thankfully, when a knock comes at the door, Onni's awake and moving around. Particularly since coming to this place, without any kind of need or regular schedule, Onni has found himself slipping further and further into the delayed sleep cycle that comes more naturally to him, staying up late and sleeping in late as well.

Most days, Reynir is up and moving long before he is, and today is no exception, so the Icelander isn't around to answer the door, so Onni shuffles over to the door looking a bit groggy, dressed in an oversized sweater and lounge pants. Pulling it open, he squints a little at the person outside it, blinks.]

Hello?

[abheirrant]

[Carlisle looks up from the papers in his hand, his brow knitting in an emotion somewhere in the region of awkward surprise.]

Oh. Um.

[That's not Reynir, he notes internally. An astute observation. The one he vocalizes is probably the better of the two:]

You must be Onni.

[scowlish]

[A few blinks, and he nods his head, looking this man up and down. He must be one of the people Reynir has befriended here - he thinks back through the people Reynir has mentioned and remembers something about a priest of some kind with a veil, but he can't remember the name.]

I am. Are you looking for Reynir?

[Blinking again, he lifts a hand to rub at his face and then steps aside, gesturing that the other man should come in.]

He's mentioned you, but I can't remember your name, sorry.

[abheirrant]

[Carlisle gives a slight, polite bow of both greeting and gratitude, stepping inside.]

Carlisle Longinmouth. I hope Reynir had pleasant things to say about me.

[scowlish]

He has pleasant things to say about everyone.

[Onni's brows raise, and he glances over his shoulder to make sure the room behind him isn't messy, then turns back to Carlisle.]

He isn't here right now, can I help?

[abheirrant]

Not unless you know about these runes.

[He offers the papers Onni's way.]

Do you know about these runes?

[scowlish]

[When Carlisle offers the sheaf of papers to him, Onni accepts, flips through them curiously, looking at the drawings. They're not familiar, beyond being Reynir's work, so he hands them back after a moment.]

I don't, I'm sorry. My magic is different from Reynir's. Finnish mages don't use runes.

[abheirrant]

[Carlisle hms to himself when Onni hands the papers back, eying them himself before tucking them into the bag at his waist.]

I see. And what sort of magic do you do, if I may ask?

🐑

[braidmage]

[ He could have sent Onni a message to warn him. Some kind of heads-up. But honestly? It's been a crazy day and Reynir has had enough on his hands just finding everything he'll need to take care of the newborn lamb that had shown up in this place.

So at the end of that day, when Onni comes back to their apartment, it is going to be to the sight and sound of Reynir, cradling a tiny lamb wrapped in a thick blanket in his arms, feeding it from a bottle clearly meant for human babies. His hair is even messier than usual and he is rubbing his cheek against the fuzzy crown of the lamb's little head.

When Onni appears, Reynir looks up at him like that, smiling softly. ]

Hey.

[scowlish]

[Onni has spent most of the day reading and researching, and his brain is tired along with the rest of him. But he's brought some food home from the kitchen for himself and Reynir, left something there for Lalli to eat, and he's more than ready to sit down and relax for the evening.

Nudging the door open with his elbow, he slips into the apartment, his head down a little as he makes sure not to spill the food he's carrying. He hears it and smells it before he sees it, the sound of Reynir in the common area of the apartment, the scent and sound of animal. When he lifts his head, though, he sees Reynir sitting on the couch holding a tiny bundle of animal and blanket, holding a bottle, his hair a mess of flyaways and frizz, and he smiles at Onni in a soft, tired sort of way.

It takes a few moments for Onni to register that Reynir is holding a lamb, one that can't be more than a day or two old. Once it sinks in, he blinks twice and then turns to put the food on the table before moving closer, leaning over to look at the tiny creature.]

Hey. You have a lamb.

[braidmage]

Seems that way, huh?

[ Reynir adjusts the way he is sitting, to make the lamb a little more visible, a little more accessible if Onni decided it wanted to reach out and touch it. The little thing is greedily and a bit messily drinking from the bottle, and Reynir laughs softly as he wipes some of the milk from the corner of the lamb's mouth where he dribbled onto his own wool. ]

He just showed up here. A girl found him - the collar's from my parents' farm. I recognized it right away. I think I might even know which ewe is his mother...

[ The animal in question had been pregnant when Reynir left home in search of Onni. The timing works out. ]

Kisa gave him a bath from head to tail the moment I put him down, so there's no way he's infected.

[scowlish]

Mhm.

[Onni takes the last couple of steps closer to get a better look at the lamb as Reynir adjusts so he can see better. It's tiny and covered in a fine curly layer of fluff, drinking eagerly from a bottle that's obviously too small for it. Reynir is like a fussy mother, laughing as he wipes at the lamb's mouth as it drinks messily, before glancing up at him while he explains where the baby came from.]

So it came from your farm, from home? I didn't think this place would bring animals...

[Raising his brows slightly, he makes a noise in his throat and comes over to sit down next to Reynir, reaching out cautiously to scrape his short nails against the soft fluff behind the tiny creature's ears. Making a soft hum of acknowledgement in his throat at the comment about Kisa, he keeps petting at the little creature's head as it drinks.]

It's so small.

[braidmage]

I didn't, either. But here he is.

[ Reynir can't help wondering if he had somehow contributed to this happening. Recently, he had missed home once or twice, just for a fleeting moment. Had missed the sheep, mostly - tending to them and their familiar sounds and smell and ways. And then just a little while later - boom. A lamb. ]

He is. He's brand new.

[ Reynir isn't just talking about to this place, but to the world. He shifts his weight, hugging the small thing a little tighter to his chest unconsciously. Because this little lamb was only just born and already he has been taken away from his mother, from the safety and protection of Iceland, to this place. Reynir sure as hell isn't going to let him be hungry or cold because of that; not if he can help it.

The lamb seems to like Onni scritching his head, but is too involved in drinking to pay too much attention. After a moment, Reynir offers: ]

Do you want to try holding him? Or feeding him?

[ He glances up, a flash of green eyes and a soft smile. ]

[scowlish]

[While Reynir agrees and explains how small and brand new the lamb is, Onni keeps stroking its head and ears, brows a little furrowed. Onni has been on farms, but mostly only helping out with the harvest, and he'd never had much to do with the sheep and other animals. Particularly not the new ones like this, that had been left to people with more experience.

It's obvious Reynir knows what he's doing, though, holding the bottle in place and cradling the tiny creature against his chest with a kind of comfortable familiarity that only comes from practice. When Reynir lifts his head and smiles at him, asks if he wants to try to hold him or feed him, Onni blinks.]

I should. Then I can do it if you're busy.

[It seems logical enough, to Onni, though he has a moment of misgiving about whether he'll be able to handle something as small and fragile as the lamb, is a little worried he'll hurt it or make it sick somehow. But he nods, glancing up at Reynir for a moment.]

Should I...move closer?

[braidmage]

Nahhh.

[ Reynir is entirely blasé about this; for him, it's hard to imagine Onni being nervous or uncertain, any more than he could imagine someone being nervous or uncertain about tying a knot or whistling or any of the other half-unconscious things one learns to do as a young child. He pulls the bottle away and without preamble or warning, thrusts the lamb out and against Onni's chest, waiting for his arms to come up and support it.

Once he sees the way Onni does it, though, a little frown of confusion comes over his face. He quickly says: ]

No, like this.

[ And with a few quick movements he rearranges Onni's arms, and presses them more tightly against the small, warm body of the animal. ]

They like being held tightly. You're not going to break him. He might be tiny, but he's a lot sturdier than a human baby would be. He can already walk. Not really well or really fast, but he can do it, and he can't have been born more than a day or two ago. So don't worry you're going to crush him or anything. If you do something he doesn't like, he'll let you know, nice and loud.

[ As if on cue, the lamb bleats, and it is loud but not pained or distressed so much as a little uncertain. Now it is Reynir who is soothing the little thing, smoothing his hands over his floppy ears, rubbing his face just above his small nose. ]

It'll be good if we both handle him as much as we can for the next few days, so he knows he can trust us. And because he must be missing his mama and awful lot.

[ Reynir rubs at the lamb's soft soft ear, making a sympathetic face, as if the animal could even tell. ]

I'm keeping him in my bed tonight. Kisa might get jealous and come bother you, who knows.

[scowlish]

[When Reynir simply pulls the bottle out of the lamb's mouth and simply pushes the lamb against Onni's chest. Instinctively, he lifts his arms to support it, hooking one arm under its rear end while the other wraps around the lamb's body. The little creature squirms in his arms and Reynir is looking at him with his face the picture of confusion before he reaches over and adjusts his arms until he's holding it correctly, pressing them in and assuring him that the lamb is sturdy and likes being held tightly.

Biting at the inside of his lower lip, Onni squeezes a bit tighter, suddenly all too aware of his own size and strength, feeling awkward and like he doesn't quite know where his arms should be. And right as he's feeling the worst of it, the lamb bleats loudly, a pathetic little confused cry that makes him jump just slightly, worry and anxiety twisting up in his gut until Reynir starts soothing the lamb with his hands, over the ears and face and the little nose until it settles.]

Did I hurt it?

[His brows are a bit furrowed, but he carefully maneuvers the lamb a little closer against his body for warmth and finds a way to bring his hand up so he can caress the sheep's face and ears, trying to comfort it. Reynir says it's best that they both handle him so he knows he can trust them, and Onni looks down at it, his brows raised, a little incredulous. He's about to protest when Reynir says that he must be missing his mama a lot, and Onni's hand goes still for a moment.]

You're right, he must be.

[Softly, Onni hums under his breath, a quiet aimless tune that seems to settle the little creature down a bit, until it's resting against his chest and he feels more comfortable holding it. After a moment or two of settling like that, certain he looks just as awkward as he feels, he glances up at Reynir again.]

Kisa is welcome to come to my room whenever she likes.

[A pause, and then, a little tentatively - possibly more tentatively than Reynir has ever heard him speak, he goes on.]

Would it help with trust if I fed him, do you think?

for lalli; sick day; cw: emeto

[scowlish]

[For most of the few weeks since the bug had started going around, Onni had mostly been managing it. It was mild enough to ignore for the most part, though he'd had a headache and no appetite, a little nausea. He'd had more important things to worry about, like keeping Reynir and Lalli fed, and taking care of Reynir because he'd first not wanted to and then hadn't been able to.

Now that Reynir is starting to recover, he's starting to feel the effects of not bothering to rest while the bug had been trying to take hold. With Reynir having moved back to his own room, Onni finds himself waking up just after noon, his hair stuck to his forehead, a sharp throbbing in his temples and right eye, as if someone were driving a nail through it. When he pushes up on an elbow, he winces at the movement, light-headed and abruptly nauseous. For a moment, he fights it, and then he rolls out of bed and stumbles to the washroom, doesn't close the door as he crumples to his knees in front of the toilet and throws up.

Once he's finished throwing up, he leans his arm against the seat of the toilet and rests his forehead against his bicep, shivering a little, the back of his sleep shirt wet with sweat. Just a few moments of rest, and he can go back to bed.]

[lallipop]

[Unfortunately for Onni, Lalli has good ears and sleeps lightly. By the time Onni's done, he's already at the door, blinking sleep out of his eyes and looking faintly revolted.

He also looks faintly concerned. Lalli has never had to deal with a sick person in his life, and he doesn't know how to go about starting.]

Are you sick now?

[Is Lalli going to have to do something about it, since he's not about to ask Reynir for help.]

[scowlish]

[Onni would know Lalli's footfalls anywhere, and even in his current state, he doesn't have to lift his head to know that the person approaching him is his cousin. Rubbing his forehead against the sleeve of his shirt to try to get some of the sweat off it, Onni stays still for a moment and then sits up, still a little shaky. Reaches up to flush the toilet and takes a trembling breath.]

Just a little. I'm fine, Lalli, you can go back to sleep.

[But he doesn't get up just yet, hoping that Lalli will fall for his bluff and head back to his room so Onni can just stay here for a while, get it out of his system, get some water, and go back to bed. Or, at least, to buy himself enough time to get vertical again.]

[lallipop]

[Reynir hadn't been a little sick--at least, that had been Lalli's impression, because had taken care to spend as little time in the apartment as possible for the duration. He knew that Onni had spent a good deal of time attending to him, and while that could also have been just Onni's fussing, it was probably also somewhat necessary.

So this is happening, then, and it's now Lalli's responsibility. The prospect is a bit overwhelming, and for a few seconds all he can do is stand there and think about how much he'll need to do and that he doesn't know how to do any of it.

And the person he'd usually ask about it is currently vomiting into the toilet.

He doesn't leave; instead he kneels quietly next to Onni and waits until he seems able to respond.]

If you're sick, what should I do?

[...There's quite a lot packed into that question.]

[scowlish]

[Lalli doesn't leave, and Onni exhales a deep sigh, his jaw and shoulders tense to try to stop the shivering now that the nausea is out of his system and the cool air is chilling the damp spot on the back of his shirt. When his cousin comes over closer and kneels down next to him, he takes a shuddering breath and glances up at Lalli as he asks what he should do if Onni is sick.

Onni knows his cousin well enough to know how much more there is to that question than just the content of the words, and for a moment he feels overwhelmed. It would probably be easier to tell Lalli that he can take care of himself, but he also knows that it will probably hurt Lalli if he refuses his help. This can't be easy for Lalli.

So he takes another shuddering breath, and winces a little when moving his head again triggers another spike of pain through his head. Hissing the breath out, he blinks groggily and swallows. His mouth tastes awful.]

It's good to not be sick alone.

[His voice is a little rough, and he blinks again. Hopefully, Lalli understands that his presence is a help in itself.]

Would you get me some water?

[lallipop]

[It's a relief, honestly, that Onni is cooperating on this. Specific directions, specific tasks, are something that Lalli can do.

He doesn't say anything before he gets up--it doesn't occur to him to--he simply fills up a glass from the apartment's little sink and sets it down next to his cousin just as wordlessly. He hovers awkwardly next to Onni, unsure whether to make contact; Lalli hates it, of course, but he knows Onni must not because of how he has to adjust around Lalli, and the way that he used to hug Tuuri.

Eventually, he compromises by patting Onni lightly on the shoulder.]

[scowlish]

[It doesn't bother Onni that Lalli doesn't say anything - verbal comfort has never really suited either of them, they're not big talkers. While Lalli is fetching water, Onni shifts, settles down with his back to the toilet, still trembling a little, rubbing the back of his hand against his mouth. There's a certain violence about throwing up that leaves him exhausted and shivering, his stomach cramped and his head aching.

When Lalli comes back, Onni looks up at him, offers him the slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth and picks the water up to take a careful sip. It makes his stomach cramp slightly, dangerously, but he manages to keep it down.]

Thank you.

[Another careful sip, and he exhales shakily.]

We found some medicine, in the MedBay, while Reynir was sick. Painkillers. Later on, I can have some. There's still stew that I made, but I can't eat it right now.

[His chest is rising and falling heavily, and he lifts his free hand to push against the side of his head.]

It's like someone is driving a nail in here.

[lallipop]

[Lalli doesn't know what to say to that. Is Onni telling him because he's supposed to do something about it? Onni said he can't take the painkillers now, so...

Well, he knows what he likes to do when he feels like shit, which is sleep.]

Should you go back to bed?

[It's a genuine question, because he doesn't know if that would help. The cluelessness is probably obvious in his voice.

His hands hover over Onni's shoulders, in case he needs help making it back.]