duke_of_illusions | one foot in front of the other

Liam stirs only slightly. He only wakes further when Barma comes in.

For a moment, he's confused about where he was.

"I had an odd dream," he murmurs.

Then he catches sight of the tray, and he can't help but feel a bit of bitter disappointment.

"Oh. Not a dream."

"I'm afraid not."

He agrees, moving to get Liam's glasses, tucking them back on his nose.

It doesn't help that the painkillers have worn off, and he's in a terrible amount of pain. How on earth does Xerxes always soldier through it?

"There might be medicine in the pocket of my dressing robe."

He hopes he put the bottle there instead of leaving it on his bedside table. If it's not there, he's going to have to just suffer through it.

"Painkillers?"

He goes to search, thinking there might also be something in the washroom medicine cabinet here. The mansion has a way of providing.

Liam nods. He should probably lever himself into a sitting position, but the prospect of moving is distasteful.

"I thought, last night, that they were making me hallucinate."

He pulls out a small bottle, and peers at the label.

"What are they?"

Liam is relieved that they're there.

"Don't know. But they work."

Realistically, they're probably an opiate of some sort.

"All right. But there's the risk of dependence."

He reminds him, taking one out and moving to offer it to him with his morning tea.

"Let me help you sit up."

"When they run out, they're gone," Liam replies softly. He's hoping he's not in as much pain when they do.

He does as much as he can to help, but the adrenaline caused by the need to find out if Xerxes survived Yura's party is gone, and he's not able to do too much.

When he's propped against the headboard, he gratefully takes the tea and painkiller.

"All right."

He says, quietly, looking him up and down.

"Do you feel any fever?"

Liam takes stock of his condition. He's chilled, but he's not certain what the weather is here, so it's difficult to tell if that's a symptom. He's weak and tired, but that's to be expected in his condition. With the pain of his injuries, it's hard to tell if the pain is from the fact that they're fresh and sore, or because they may be getting infected.

It probably doesn't help that he distinctly remembers that he had a head wound from the initial fall, and if he has a concussion that's liable to make it difficult to think anyway. He'd reach up to check the condition of that wound, but one arm is in a sling and the other hand has the teacup.

"I don't know," he answers honestly. "I... I can't tell."

"Here."

He reaches forward to touch the back of his hand to Liam's forehead, feeling carefully.

"Did you have any other questions about this place?"

The Duke's hand is warm against his skin.

He considers the question.

"You mentioned that Jack Vessalius is, er, was here? Who else? Anyone who can be trusted?"

He really hopes it's not the two of them surrounded by a bunch of Baskervilles.

"Jack- some versions of him are here, some have been here but are gone."

He struggles to explain.

"We also have Gilbert, Break, and a number of the deceased Nightray family. Cheryl, Shelley and Sharon Reinsworth, Vincent Nightray and Echo, Oz, Ada, Oscar and Zai Vessalius. Dodo, Owl, Raven, Gryphon and Jabberwock, Mad Hatter, Equis, Dormouse, Albus-"

His eyes widen as the list grows longer.

He interrupts softly. "The Chains are here?"

And then, his mind working slowly:

"Perhaps Gilbert would be able to procure a gun for me."

"Perhaps Hare will arrive."

He proposes, going to get him a piece of toast.

"It's important that you eat."

"I would feel more... comfortable with the Hare around."

It's difficult for him to express how the apparent loss of his contract feels.

Liam isn't hungry--the pain has seen to that--but he knows Barma is right and he takes a bite of it anyway.

It hasn't slipped his notice that the Duke is ignoring the second part of his statement, but he lets it drop. At some point, he's certain he'll run into a Gilbert, and then he can address the situation himself. He will not be injured in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by enemies, without the ability to defend himself, flimsy as a gun may be.

"How do things... operate here?"

He's used to the Barma household, where everything runs like a well-oiled machine, and to Pandora, which runs much the same way so long as bureaucracy doesn't muck up the works. But here... Well, he has no idea.

"It's chaos."

He admits, quietly.

"I find myself partially responsibly for the care and safety of two children. It has been an educational experience, to say the least."

Liam isn't pleased by the idea of chaos. He likes some of it in his life--the some being Xerxes Break--but ultimately prefers order.

It's the second part that startles him.

"There are children here?"

The idea that something could be so malicious as to bring children to this place, tearing them from their worlds, is horrifying.

"Gilbert and Vincent."

He murmurs, with a nod.

"At a terribly young age, before they joined the Nightray household."

Child versions of Gilbert and Vincent? So there could be versions of all of them as children...? The thought is quite disturbing. What would he do if he met a child version of himself?

But a child version of Vincent... He asks gently,

"Is Vincent... stable?"

"Not- entirely. But he isn't beyond help."

He says, quietly.

"With someone to read to him, cook with him, listen to him- I think he has a chance."

Liam nods, and works on eating his toast for a while. When it comes to nature versus nurture, no one has ever figured it out with Vincent. Those missing years make it impossible to determine.

When he's finished it he asks,

"If I am unable to find you at any point, who should I talk to?"

"J- Gilbertine. Either of the children. And I'll give you directions to my room."

His real worry is that if Glen Baskerville has a grudge, Barma could disappear and Liam would never know, stuck in here.

The answer, however... He stares, then asks very slowly:

"Gilbertine?"

He can't have heard that right.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject