childrenofbahamutlogs | A joy hard learned in winter was the warming of the bed { catch-all log }

It's an understandable reaction, she'd say, considering what happened. It's still something she isn't proud of or likes to think about. Honestly, one of the reasons she's usually so self-conscious about this new unexpected quirk is in part to the unfortunate poisoning of him before.

"Oh," she says, brain... very slowly connecting the dots. "I think I was so worried about being- hurgh, sorry, nauseous- " This is said as she turns away slightly. "-being toxic to someone else, I didn't think I could be to... myself?" Is that's what's happening here? It would make sense. She's been poisoned too and it did feel eerily similar to this.

But perhaps that's why she didn't want to consider the possibility since, well, that'd mean actually being reminded of that time. How bad it was. How she never really got over it, even after all these years. "Gods, this is so stupid," she snaps, not at him, but just in general frustration at everything. It wasn't enough to be ugly! She had to be dealing herself poison damage as well!

He pats her shoulder in sympathy - yeah, he knows pretty well how bad that poison gets you, and it can only have gotten stronger - and really hopes no physical substance comes out of her mouth.

"It's really stupid, how are you supposed to handle whatever destiny they dragged us in here to handle if you can't even stand up?! Who else does healing around here, Charlie?"

"I'm not sure," she says, realizing that... she isn't. "I can heal, but it doesn't work on me is the catch." Obviously. If her regeneration was able to keep up with this poison, it would. Anything too extensive though and she just has to heal as 'naturally' as she can.

"I don't wanna' bother Charlie with this though, ugh," the blond continues. Despite the state of her, he doesn't need to deal with this. He's got so much he's doing already! "If I can get home, I'll probably be okay."

Charlie sure does have a lot to be dealing with!

"I guess you can call him if it gets worse. All right, just put your arm around - no, hold on, wings count as skin contact, wouldn't they, uhhhh,"

Popp knows a lot about picking people up, as the guy who used to skive off the extra hard training and then show up at the end to patch up everyone stronger and dumber than him. Contact poison is a new one, but thankfully, he is magic.

"Just lie back and enjoy the ride, I guess! I've got you."

If you're already flying around with magic, carrying another person isn't that more difficult. Popp hauls Rosie into a hovering classic princess carry and tries not to blush about it too much.

He does have to ask her to open the door on the way out, his hands are full.

Wings would count as skin contact, likely, so she understands the correction. All this is so unnecessarily complicated, isn't it? So many new things to consider like dealing yourself poison damage and trying not to deal other people more unexpected poison damage either.

"Wha-" she starts, but then is suddenly lifted with a small peep. Oh, that's kind of nice. She's a little too delirious to appreciate it fully but, you know, not having to walk is for the best. "Huh. That's convenient." She will open the door though. A little shaky, but she can manage that much at least.

"It is! I used to cross continents with this spell, but it works just as well for going home in a flash!"

This is not Popp's top speed by far, but he does have a history of crash landings. There is a certain sense of responsibility you feel when you're holding someone close enough to feel their heartbeat, so his priority is nice and even - and height, for taking shortcuts over buildings. You don't need to worry about running into anyone if you're in the sky.

"Ask me nicely and I'll take you around like this even when you're not sick."

Because this won't be sticking around forever, right? Right.

"Whole continents, huh?" That sounds like something. It's also, she realizes, something that she hadn't really... considered about Popp before. He was an adventurer, she knew, of some kind. It would mean he's fairly traveled, wouldn't it? They'll have to talk about that maybe, someday. When she's not, y'know, dying of poison damage to herself.

Or a little anxious suddenly at the height. "That'd be nice," she starts, intentionally not looking down and doing her best to keep her unfocused gaze anywhere else. "Just, uhm- Sorry. Could we, maybe, stay lower to the ground? I'm not." She pauses, tries to collect herself again, voice small still: "Heights kind of freak me out."

It's such a silly thing to be scared of, right? Yet, she just can't help that being too elevated makes her remember her final moments back home and- Right now? It's just not helping matters any.

"For real? Heh heh, that's kind of cute."

She's usually pretty bold and fearless about things like going off into the woods, after all. He obligingly drops down from roof height to more head height, so he can speed a little without running into anyone.

"All right, how's this?"

W-well! She's not sure about cute, actually, but if he thinks so. Rosie is aware many men find the appeal in her being a helpless little lady, just- That's usually a bit for them versus genuine fear.

"Thanks," she sighs, once they're at least closer to the ground. Even if she falls from here, it wouldn't do anything but ruin her mood.

"I know it's silly, but-! We've all got our little things, I think, that scare us even if it doesn't make sense."

Sometimes a guy just wants to feel like a tough macho man who can handle things and save the day, okay. It is perfectly normal. Popp is not immune to this and he likes when he can do it by shooing away a normal spider instead of fighting off demons and monsters, which is scary.

"Everything I'm scared of makes sense from my point of view! Lions. Skeletons. Getting a shot from the doctor..."

Popp does not want to openly cop to being silly, he wants to be seen as reliable, and is on the cusp of internalizing that those two things can both be true about someone. He's being very reliable right now, he hasn't dropped her or even crashed into anything!

It is appreciated. Honestly, the assist in general is even if it had just been carrying her normally. Although she's feeling better for not having to exert the extra effort of walking herself, she's still not doing too great.

"Doctors are the scariest of them all," she agrees, more serious than she'd let on otherwise. In her defense, she's never met a doctor - or healer, anyway - that actually had her best interests in mind. (Her being a healer isn't the exception to this either, unfortunately.)

"Heights and drowning are my big ones though. Kind of sucks for traveling."

"I actually learned the basic version of this spell to get out of drowning."

The experience itself was really incredibly unpleasant when it was happening to him but he looks back on the memory with more fondness than he was expecting to.

"As long as I have enough magic power to get back, I can even go flying out over the open ocean with no problem."

He comes to a halt, looking around at the surrounding houses. He's pretty sure that she would live in a house with roses by the front, right? But also, it is winter and there is a distinct lack of flowers going on here.

It does make her a bit more sympathetic to know he went through anything similar to her. She doubts it was same circumstances, but almost drowning on its own is terrifying enough.

"Hm," she hums, losing focus a little as another wave of poison-induced nausea comes over her. "How do you run out of magic power?" But even as she asks, she points in the vague direction of which house is hers. No rose bushes in the front, no, but there is a lot of pink from the curtains to the little painted embellishments on the windows.

He's absolutely leaving out the part where he was tied to a large rock and tossed in a lake on purpose, because she's sick and does not need to hear about that right now or possibly ever. He's known to be pretty careless; she can go on thinking he fell in a river or whatever she's assuming, he's even done that a couple times here already.

"Using a lot of spells, usually? Or just a few really strong ones, like the one that turns you into a dragon - but hey, I won't ever have to learn that one now, that's a huge timesaver!"

Here they are, at the door. Popp doesn't appreciate the work that goes into decorating but he does clock all the pink as cute and characteristic of Rosie. He's worried enough about her that he's not having nervous jitters about going into her house and seeing her bedroom that he would in just about any other circumstances.

Edited 2025-01-29 12:42 (UTC)

That would be distressing to learn but it'd mean all the more sympathy. Her own situation wasn't quite the same, but similarly being held underwater against her will. It's nothing she'd wish on anyone... though she'd appreciate Popp's continued cheer despite the circumstances he's been through. After all, like recognizes like in that way.

"Huh," she hums. "Being a dragon was something you had to be born as for my world. And they all though that made them better than everyone, which was dumb." Divine heritage, they'd claim, and hold it over everyone else. Dicks. She's tried not to let it taint her feelings about dragons here, naturally, but it's still hard sometimes to untangle.

"It's not locked," she offers. Maybe it should be! It's not something she thinks about though. "You can just, like, let me off in the main room." Because she totally won't just go back to doing more than she should if left to her own devices.

The curse of not wanting to bother people with your personal issues and expose all your weaknesses is that then you cannot bond over your traumas and go about thinking that you are the only person with this stupid problem. It is a common affliction and Popp has a bad case of it.

"We have regular dragons, but they're just extra strong monsters these days, they don't talk... Except for the Dragon Knights, who kind of are better than everyone else? Dai doesn't let it give him a big head or anything but his dad's a huge asshole. Not the worst person ever, but maybe top ten?"

In they go. Popp isn't consciously thinking about how he's holding Rosie because he's distracted by complaining about Dragon Master Baran, so instead of fussing over the door, he shifts her weight entirely over to one arm without noticing that he can do that.

"Hey, you'll call someone over, right? You should have someone taking care of you when you're sick."

He knows Rosie likes to be alone when she's feeling rotten about herself, but also, she really shouldn't be? She is poisoned!

It is an unfortunate curse they're both afflicted with, apparently. It'll have to be broken eventually though.

She listens to him talk about dragons though. "I wish ours couldn't talk," she huffs. Honestly, a lot would probably better if they couldn't. Granted, she doesn't think they'd need to talk to be assholes either so- Eh. Who knows? "At least his kid isn't following in his footsteps. More than can be said for our dragons, but- Part of the issue is there is no heir to the throne and the current reigning king refuses to sire one. Plenty of the new generation are fighting for it though when they can. No one's managed to beat him though." So, you know, sure. He's strong and maybe his pride is warranted.

Still doesn't mean he needs to be a dick about it.

"-Uh." That's probably a reassuring answer though to the question of her calling someone over though. "I can! I usually just power through on my own though? Never been sick, but definitely had a bad hangover to weather before by myself." That's just how it was.

"I guess the dragons going after each other is better than them fighting anything else they could be fighting..?"

He's seen what a handful of dragons can do to a human town. It's not pretty. If there's a couch or a chair or anything, he'll help her over to it.

"I think this is worse than a hangover, Rosie. For one, if you're already hungover, you're not still drinking."

Popp thinks this because his dad doesn't introduce him to all of his friends.

"They still fuck up other stuff," she huffs. "Zennyo Ryūō is the worst though. He's the rain-maker and just kind of dumps buckets on people when he's upset or feels they aren't giving him enough tribute." Again: an absolute dillhole.

She almost thinks to make a joke like 'Not with that attitude' about not still drinking but that's perhaps a bit too dark to actually be funny. Yet, hair of the dog- Or so they said? While she'd never really tested it out too much, she did know sometimes a stiff drink when hungover could help.

She does begrudgingly sit on the old couch in her living area at least. Flops onto it, really, and sighs dramatically. "I can't even imagine getting sick, like, regularly? How do people do this?"

Being wet all the time because of some jerk dragon sounds less life threatening than just...

"That's really, really petty for someone who goes around demanding respect. Kind of childish, if you ask me!"

Popp is, arguably, an expert on being childish. He knows what he's talking about! Case in point...

"I mean, I usually whine at people who care about me until they bring me blankets and soup. Your friends and family need to be nice to you when you're sick; that's the only good part."

"Yeah, he's an immature jerk," she confirms. Most older men in power are, she had come to learn. Maybe she's just feeling especially bitter now though because she also doesn't feel well.

"Huh," she hums though, about that little tidbit. "It wasn't being sick, but I do remember one time being really out of it? The Morgans were there when I woke up and felt better, which was nice." It's all still a bit of a blur, honestly, what happened exactly. She remembers waking up though to Reyson draped over the end of her bed, Feldspar working on something, and Misto with his head by her side and hand in his.

"But also kind of embarrassing? Like, I don't want all that fuss over me." At least, not like that. Other kinds of fussing are fun.

A joy hard learned in winter was the warming of the bed { catch-all log }

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