[open] post-imprisonment log

[sterngaze]

WHO: Liem & you!
WHAT: Liem is released from the naughty-Kenoma dungeons
WHERE: The Citadel, possibly Achamoth proper
WHEN: After his release on Firaseri 6th
WARNINGS: References to Liem’s imprisonment, including brainwashing, torture, & self-harm

I. The Wounded Option

[Liem is released from the Citadel’s dungeons without fanfare, staggering from his audience with the Regent back to his own rooms and sequestering himself there to recover from the most immediate after-effects of Dionys’s ministrations—or to at least attempt to. Rest is out of the question; the stings and aches throbbing through him would make sleep a struggle even if he could close his eyes without being transported immediately back into Dionys’s clutches. His mind feels like a sieve, his thoughts slipping away from him like water and leaving him only with the jagged edges of the past ten days. The best he can do is nurse his filthy and abused body while he tries to piece his mind back together.

He spends a lot of time alone over the ensuing days, but the observant or well-informed may have noted his return from the occasional servant delivering food or medicine to his room, or from hearing the sounds of activity within it. The sounds of running water are especially obvious, should one happen to walk past while he’s washing.

But of course, he has to tend to his injuries all over again once he’s stripped off the bandages and washed away the salve. Some of them are easier to reach than others, especially given the lingering pain involved in moving around too much. After bandaging his arms and tending the half-healed cuts and bruises on his chest, a short hiss punctuates his attempts to minister the lashes on his back.

Any knock on his door is meet with a brief silence, followed by the door cracking open and Liem’s dark, tired eyes peering out from it.]

Can I help you?

II. The Insomnia Option

[It doesn’t take all that long for restlessness to lure Liem out from the confines of his rooms. The walls start to creep in on him after just a couple days; the quiet starts to become oppressive. It’s too much like his cell in the depths of the Citadel, and it’s too much like his cell in the cathedral back home. Leaving the barren stone and cold, empty bed behind, he ventures out into the Citadel at large, seeking something to keep him occupied.

a. The middle of the night is a strange time to find anyone in the kitchens, but that’s where Liem is right now, smelling of oranges and cinnamon, his sleeves folded back to the elbows and his head bent over a small pie filled with some kind of soft white cheese. Flour dusts the bruises and half-healed bites on his wrists and forearms as he carefully lays a lattice of dough strips over the top, lifting his eyes from his work only briefly as he hears someone come in.

b. Regardless of how sleepless his nights (and his days) have been, or how residual aches from his injuries still plague his waking hours, Liem still turns to training as something that can occupy him even while he’s only operating at 50% at best. Target practice is something he could do even in his sleep, so the deep shadows beneath his eyes and the lethargy in his movements don’t stop him from finding a target to practise with in the pre-dawn hours when most of the Citadel is still dreaming. Stress and exhaustion have made him jumpy, though; the sound of approaching footsteps filters into his awareness slowly, and then in a rush all at once as he whirls to point his crossbow at whoever just walked in.

c. During the day, Liem mostly keeps out of the way in parts of the Citadel that don’t see much use. There’s a spare room near the top of a tower that stays empty for hours at a time, and it’s here that he can be found curled up on a window seat, gazing out of the narrow window while he scratches at a notebook with a stick of charcoal. Or at least, that’s what he’s been spending much of the afternoon doing, if the formless doodles and patterns scrawled across the pages are any indication. Liem himself isn’t available for comment, leaned as he is against the cool stone wall in the grip of a shallow and uneasy sleep.]

III. Wildcard

[Liem can be found around the Citadel or, later on, even out in Achamoth itself. His inbox is also open for post-imprisonment communion! Feel free to hit me up on plurk at Sporelett or DM me on discord if you want to hash out something else.]

Comments

[expiera]

[That pause is telling enough. She keeps her observations to herself, maintaining her chipper demeanor.]

I'm more of a night person than morning person myself, haha. [She confesses an innocuous fact.] The Citadel is very big and the staff is diverse, there may very well be people still up at this hour doing things. What if we go looking? Or take it to one of their common rooms?

[If he wouldn't mind stretching his legs a bit, regardless of how fruitful the NPC search endeavor at ungodly hours turns out to be? Or they could just stay here, the crostata needs to finish baking first either way. The dishes will be done within minutes now, too.]

[sterngaze]

So I can see.

[Liem favours Ciel with a raised eyebrow before returning to his task, efficiently scrubbing and rinsing a sharp kitchen knife for her to dry. She seems quite chipper despite the hour; late nights must be usual for her, for her wakefulness to agree with her so well.

Her suggestion, that they go in search of people to foist fresh pie upon, catches him completely by surprise. In over a hundred years he has never lived somewhere where people might go looking for someone to share their food with. The closest he ever came to experiencing such a thing were the times during his boyhood that a priest would deliver his meals to him, when he was too ill to leave his cell.

But he’s always happy to stretch his legs, so when the last of the dishes are washed, he looks back at Ciel with an appraising expression.]

We can certainly look. It would give me something else to do.

[As satisfied as he may be with his baking endeavours, he’s still not ready to retire back to his room.]

[expiera]

[Vampire hunters can't very well hunt in the day, now can they? Not the traditional ones at least, and especially if they want to work while avoiding the public eye.

Either way, she looks completely serious with her idea, as she accepts the knife from him from the handle and dries it quickly in practiced motions. Back to the knife block holder it goes; she IS familiar with the kitchen, so it takes her no time at all to place back anything he hands her to exactly where it belonged.]

Let's do that once it's done, then! The Citadel workers may revere us, but that also means they have no good excuse to refuse us when we try fostering upon them tokens of our appreciation. [Did that lowkey sound like bullying? Something like suffocating with kindness? Said with such a bright smile, too? Nah, nah...

Motoring on,]

Putting it that way though, do you not have an established night routine here at the Citadel, Liem?

[He didn't look like he expected her suggestion, that she could chalk up to him not exactly being a particularly extroverted person. But knowing he does best at night, wouldn't he have some sort of schedule in place as how to pass his time? Not nosy, not totally. Just friendly curiosity, really!]

[sterngaze]

[Leaning a hip against the counter, Liem dries his hands as the last of the dishwater drains out of the sink basin. He wonders how much of Ciel’s sunny attitude is genuine, and how much of it is simply meant to put him at ease. He’s never known her to be anything but pleasant with people inside the Citadel, but he distrusts the idea that anyone could be that genuinely happy in their circumstances—especially since she clearly has the presence of mind to avoid acknowledging the haggard look of his face, or the fresh bruises on his naked forearms.]

You sound like you’ve done this sort of thing before, [he observes.

Is this what he’s been missing out on during his lonely nighttime wanderings? Ciel foisting rogue pastries on unsuspecting people? Perhaps it’s fortunate that he’s been spared that particular kind of encounter. It would be rude of him to refuse such an offer altogether, but eating is often such a joyless activity for him.]

My nighttime routine usually involves training, and going out into the city, since that’s when it’s easiest for me to be outside. But I’m not feeling my best right now.

[He’s done what evening activity he could, but his stamina isn’t at its best in light of the past couple of weeks.]

Do you have a nighttime routine?