spira_rp | It's hard to find true equilibrium.

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It's hard to find true equilibrium.

Lindblum was, in Lumi's opinion, a singularly awful city.

Built atop a mountain, or possibly a cliff, it bore the sort of architecture that made it amply clear that it had been added to over time, that it had started off much smaller and had grown, almost organically, outwards and then upwards, like a particularly unpleasant fungus of mismatched brick and tile all contained within the immense castle's fortified walls.

Lumi's nose had wrinkled as they made the approach to the Falcon's Gate via airship. Even from a distance he could see that, without more space for the city to crawl beyond the walls, as most seemed to when they outgrew a castle's ramparts, it had just gotten ... taller. Idly, he had wondered how it would fare in the event of an earthquake.

Once the airship had docked and he and Marluxia had disembarked, he decided that the city was even worse than it had looked from their approach. The winding streets and irregular buildings did little but compound the fact that the city was not purpose-built. Some of the houses leaned like drunkards and some of them had larger, over-hanging upper floors, as though they had been added to at a later date by a less skilled builder. It looked disorganised, ramshackle and untidy.

With any luck, they wouldn't be there long.

They were in the city on a mission, or, at least, a favour. In deference to the alliance he had made with the most recently recruited of his old ... "colleagues", Marluxia had agreed to make a trip to Even's old home to pick up some items that he hadn't thought to bring with him on his would-be temporary relocation to Daguerreo. It wasn't safe for him to go himself, on any front, and Marluxia had the freedom of movement accorded to an established and voluntarily joined member of Clan Khamja.

Lumi stood in the street outside the Air Cab station, a frown on his face at the feel of the uneven cobbled floor under the soles of his shoes. It was a warm day, but it was growing clear that Summer was on its way out in this part of the world. The breeze that blew down the street carried upon it the scent of woodsmoke, hanging baskets and the promise of rain. It was, despite the pleasant day, cool enough to make Lumi stiffen where he stood. He scowled, looking up. The sky was, at least, still blue, though grey clouds were visible in the distance.

He looked to Marluxia for direction. It was he who had the address of Even's old residence.

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Lumi nodded at Szayel's assessment. He saw no need for argument. Blind shots rarely yielded productive results unless they were one in a number fired at roughly the same time or in quick succession. Scattering bullets without looking was quite likely to result in a hit, but one stray shot had far lower chances. Xigbar had fired one, so he'd gotten lucky, in his eyes.

He raised the shoulder on the injured side and made a small noise, little more than a hiss, of pain at the movement. He healed quickly, a bullet wound would usually be over and done with in a matter of days or weeks depending on the location, but this one was awkward. He knew that it was a myth that shoulder-shots were safe and quick to recover from, there were too many nerves and muscles and bones for it to be as easy as that, and that's if the shot managed not to be so low as to hit the lung.

Lumi knew that, for the next two months at least, he was going to struggle with mobility in that arm. The wound itself would likely heal fast enough, but the internal damage would require more extensive repair. He wondered if that could be sped up with the aid of potions or cure spells.

He looked from Marluxia to Szayel at the former's request. He wanted to leave. He didn't like the infirmary at all. It made him feel nearly vulnerable with how open it was. On top of it, he knew how he looked. The wound may have been cleaned, but he still saw that his hair was discoloured from smoke and blood and he needed a shower, or possibly a bath. More than that, he was hungry and thirsty. His mouth felt dry, his throat more so, and he couldn't ignore the empty feeling that came with an extended stretch without food.

Szayel looked at Marluxia, refusing to be cowed by the unsubtle sense of authority he was projecting. It was almost cute that he was coming across as aloof and severe, despite knowing that Szayel worked under Aizen, and was thus, very used to aloof and severe members of Khamja.

"I want to run a couple of tests," he said, turning his attention to Lumi, "and I'd prefer you took a short course of antibiotics. You'll need a course of potions, and ethers for the chakra damage," Lumi's wasn't at its usual level, and it might need help to recover. "Needless to say, I advise against taking on any field assignments for the time being."

He shrugged, then. "The tests I want to run require a blood sample," he said, his gaze turning almost pointedly to Marluxia. There was an unvoiced question in his tone. The bullet he'd extracted yesterday had vanished, complete with the tissue samples adhered to it. Szayel suspected he knew exactly where that had gone.

Marluxia didn't like the idea of Szayel taking blood from Lumi. He liked it about as much as he'd liked the idea of Szayel keeping a blood and tissue covered bullet from Lumi's wound, and by extension, Xigbar's gun. It hadn't been Sharpshooter, or any permutation thereof, or it wouldn't have fired, or left, an elemental bullet behind, but Marluxia still disliked the idea.

It wasn't for Xigbar's protection either, and it wasn't wholly for Lumi's. Szayel was the sort of unfortunately observant scientist that would be among the first to realise that there were some fundamental differences between Lumi and the rest of the Ryoka. In itself, this wasn't a bad thing, but it was information Marluxia would prefer to keep in reserve. For now, Szayel, like the other natives, took 'Ryoka' as a group term, and assumed they had the same origins.

It suited them all that they thought that. If they assumed that, then they assumed certain things about himself and Lumi, too.

"If Lumi agrees," Marluxia replied. "He can make those decisions for himself, now."

He couldn't yesterday, and Marluxia wasn't about to let him be studied.

"I don't require antibiotics," Lumi said. "The potions and ethers I'll take."

Distrust wasn't behind his refusal of the antibiotics, he just knew that he didn't need them. Lumi owned an uncommonly sophisticated and robust immune system, something that negated a need for anything of that nature to back it up. If it could be compared to anything Szayel may recognise, the use of the word 'crocodilian' wouldn't be much of an exaggeration.

"Why do you require a blood sample?" He asked. "What are the tests for? My health, your boss's records, or your own curiosity?"

He looked at him, eyes narrowed slightly. It wasn't a look of challenge, laughable as that would seem when he was in an infirmary bed, it was merely suspicion of his motives.

Szayel made a noise that, from anyone else, would be a thoughtful murmur, and from him, managed to sound slightly lewd, as if he was enjoying the thought a little bit too much. "I won't deny my curiosity is a factor," he admitted, giving Lumi an insouciant smirk, "but you had lost a considerable amount of blood, and my," he paused, looking at the hand Lumi had bitten, and then back at Lumi, "field technique of ascertaining the extent of your haemorrhagic anaemia was interrupted."

He brought his arm across his waist, and rested his other elbow in his palm. "It would also help me check for infection, but I really would strongly advise antibiotics, regardless."

Marluxia regarded Szayel coolly. It was irritating to recognise that Szayel had uses that probably kept him alive, but Marluxia had been forced to recognise them yesterday. Today, however, Szayel was back to being an irritation as usual.

He had questions for Lumi later. Which included questions about his refusal of antibiotics, not that Marluxia blamed him. He also had some explaining to do, he expected. It was time he explained as much about the other Nobodies as he possibly could to Lumi.

"Ah," Lumi said and then, after a moment, "no. No antibiotics, no blood tests."

Ordinarily, the antibiotics would just be useless to him and the blood tests routine, but Lumi didn't trust Szayel. He didn't trust him not to use it to ascertain the potential weaknesses of Marluxia's attack dog, or to compare it to the rest of them. He was different to the other Ryoka, he didn't want Szayel, of all people, to discover this. It was bad enough that he had identified an elemental weakness in somebody that presented as wholly Non-Elemental, he didn't need the opportunity to create something more directed.

Szayel clearly hadn't been expecting an outright 'no'. He stared for a moment, surprise clear on his face, and then he asked, "Why not?"

Perhaps Lumi wasn't aware of how severe his situation had been when he'd been carried to Szayel's infirmary? Though that seemed far-fetched. He was aware enough to know how he felt right now, which was probably awful, and not something he was accustomed to feeling.

"I don't think you realise just how badly injured you were," Szayel began. "Still are," he added, uncrossing his arm and looking irritated. "What I'm suggesting isn't even half what I'd instruct with an ordinary patient. Not even you should expect to simply pluck a bullet out and walk away."

"You have your answer," Marluxia said, in response to Szayel's protests. He expected at least part of the objection was based on Szayel being a scientist about to watch a rare sample walk through the door, likely never to return. Some of it, possibly, was related to Szayel being on some level a professional, with a vested interest in maintaining a success rate.

None of that mattered more than Szayel not getting his grubby little paws on one iota of data more than was strictly necessary.

"I realise it. I have been shot before," Lumi said, looking rather levelly at Szayel. "The only aspect of the injury I am not used to is the magical one, the one you said the ether is for. The ether I agreed to take."

Lumi knew how fast he tended to heal and how sturdy his immune system was. He didn't need a foreign -- alien -- scientist telling him what he could and couldn't expect from an injury. Granted, in his own world there was no magic, but that wasn't the part of Lumi's ordeal Szayel was most concerned with.

"I have no interest in being a sample," he said, flatly. "What I need is a lot of sleep."

Szayel, quietly, seethed. It showed in the way he clenched his fist, and the way his nostrils flared when he inhaled, which he did a little more sharply than usual. His jaw was set too, as he looked from Marluxia, to Lumi, to the cannula still sitting in Lumi's veins.

"Potentially a blood transfusion, or at the least, a high iron diet for the next few weeks, rest, rehabilitation, wound redressing, perhaps debridement of the wound if it fails to heal as expected," he rattled off, tersely. "Sleep is only among the things you require, which, if you've gone through this before, you should know."

Then he huffed, looking intensely unhappy. "If you insist on refusing treatment now, rest assured that if you need it further down the line, I'll take great delight in telling you that I told you so."

"You couldn't give me a blood transfusion if you wanted to," he said. "I very much doubt that Spiran blood types tally with those found in Ryoka, meaning that you lack a suitable donor."

Lumi looked at Szayel coolly, slightly suspicious of the fact that he seemed genuinely annoyed that he wasn't submitting to the tests or the antibiotics.

"That said, the blood test wasn't among the items on that list," he pointed out, eyebrow arched. "So that's one thing that is unnecessary. The ... rustic," he wrinkled his nose, thinking back to the carefully produced fare he kept aboard his ship, "Spiran food will necessitate a high iron diet. It's difficult not to be aware of that."

The food had been one thing he had struggled with the most since arriving. He used to relish similar in the dockside restaurants of the stations he visited, considering them a treat, but he had always gone back to the perfectly balanced selection of items that most spacers kept a handy stock of. It was something he missed.

"Obviously I'm aware of the rehabilitation and dressing aspects of the healing process, though you will find that I heal quite readily without help."

"You don't know that blood types don't tally," Szayel pointed out, testily, "because you won't let me run a blood test." Lumi could declare it unnecessary all he liked, Szayel was in fervent disagreement.

He debated telling Lumi that, when he invariably had to come back, Szayel had all the restraints and drugs he needed to get every single sample he wanted, whether Lumi liked it or not. Despite being famed for his lack of survival instinct, however, Szayel wasn't actually out to die, and he knew what the response from two Khamja members would be if he threatened them in such a way.

Them, in this case, because Marluxia was as much part of the deal as Lumi was.

He should have left the bullet in him, he thought, idly. He wouldn't be in the position to refuse, now, and he could push it enough that Marluxia would consider it a necessary evil to save Lumi's life. Which he didn't doubt Marluxia would, entertainingly enough.

"But if you insist, I'll remove the cannula and you can go." The cannula, at least, would contain a drop or two of Lumi's blood, once removed. He may be able to use it, though it wouldn't be as much as he was hoping to get.

Marluxia raised an eyebrow, ever so faintly, at Lumi describing Spiran food as 'rustic'. He said 'rustic' like it was a slur. Lumi was what Marluxia considered to be hyper-modern; he wasn't accustomed to ingredients, or to food that came from actual plants and animals, as far as Marluxia could work out.

The fact that Lumi might like that situation amused Marluxia. They were very much opposite, in very many ways.

"I think we're prepared for the risks involved," Marluxia said, his eyes on Szayel. He saw the way he was looking at the cannula, and the little capped tube of bright red blood sticking out of it.

Lumi nodded once at Marluxia's comment.

He knew for a fact that he wouldn't be compatible with any of the residents of Spira, nor any of the Ryoka. He was fairly sure that he was compatible only his associates back in his own world, let alone a strange one.

He wanted to go to bed, though. His own bed. He wasn't particularly tired, not enough to sleep instantly after all he'd got, but he was sure he'd change his mind when he lay down somewhere comfortable and where he felt relatively safe.

Szayel's snippiness concerned him more than a little. When it came to getting a dressing change, assuming it would be needed after a few days, he strongly considered seeking the assistance of Neliel instead of Szayel. He knew her to be a White Mage, if not a doctor and she, at least, didn't seem to have any ulterior motives when it came to them. Instead, she simply possessed undisguised dislike, which he trusted far more than whatever it was Szayel had.

Szayel scowled. Their unified front only confirmed what Szayel thought of the pair of them, namely that they were almost certainly screwing, if the fact that both of them were dreadfully attractive wasn't enough to confirm that then the wordless communication, whole sentences and conversations happening through snatched glances and the tilt of someone's head, certainly was. Unfortunately, right now it was infuriating.

"Fine," he answered, as if that was the end of the argument as far as he was concerned. "Let's hope this rustic," he'd caught that, and between Lumi saying that and Even's attitude to scientific advancement on Spira, Szayel got the impression they considered this world backwards, "world doesn't contain more hazards to your current health than you're used to."

He'd been treated for a gunshot before, fine. But refusing treatment now if he considered this world so damned rustic was insanity.

He grabbed a swab and carefully removed the cannula from Lumi's arm, telling him, "Hold that while I get some tape."

And hide the cannula with the drop of blood still lingering in it.

Marluxia watched Szayel's every movement, his expression stony. He didn't trust Szayel one jot, and he trusted him even less when he was holding onto something that was sticking into Lumi.

Marluxia still had the bullet he'd extracted. He'd also burned, cleaned, or confiscated whatever he could find in the infirmary that had traces of Lumi's blood on it, such as the forceps used to remove the bullet, and the swabs from cleaning him up.

"We'll take that, too," he said, pointing to the cannula in Szayel's hand.

"I shouldn't imagine it will," Lumi said, flatly.

He held the swab to the place where the needle had been and looked at Marluxia. He managed not to smirk at the fact that he was, as ever, on the same wavelength as him when it came to depriving Szayel of things he really, really wanted, especially where their future safety was concerned.

Szayel stared at Marluxia, the cannula still in his hand. He debated, seriously debated, refusing to hand it over. Maybe he could pretend he had no idea of the value of what precious little it contained, as if his medical professional side had eclipsed his scientific acumen.

It wouldn't wash, he realised. They weren't quite stupid enough to fall for it, and probably had too high an opinion of his intelligence for him to successfully play dumb.

Still, it was worth a shot.

"This belongs in the sharps disposal," he said, endeavouring to give Marluxia a puzzled look.

Marluxia murmured, wordlessly. He knew exactly where it belonged, and that was out of Szayel's possession.

He held his hand out across the bed, silently demanding that Szayel hand it over.

He glanced very briefly at Lumi as he did. They both understood why they couldn't let Szayel walk away with the used needle, and if it came to violence to stop him from doing so then Marluxia was prepared for it to end with violence.

"I've had a very long day," he said, when Szayel still hadn't relinquished the needle. The 'Don't continue to try me' didn't need to be given voice.

Lumi returned the look, turning his eyes to Szayel as Marluxia did.

He had to hand it to him, Szayel was certainly trying his best to get hold of something of that nature. He doubted there would be much there for him to study, but in his opinion, it was still too much. Contaminating his 'sample' with ammonia or bleach would probably have allowed Szayel to dispose of the needle properly, but he didn't trust him to do it, even if told.

Szayel glowered at Marluxia, but the warning was clear in his tone and body language, and Szayel would rather not have a fight break out in the middle of the infirmary. Yesterday had been bad enough.

It was a pity he couldn't release here, and obtain them both as samples, but Aizen, and the rest of Khamja, would have questions.

He placed the used cannula in Marluxia's palm with a scowl, watching him gently close his fingers around it and withdraw it from Szayel's grasp. Then turned to grab some tape and fixed the swab in place over Lumi's arm.

Marluxia looked down at the cannula in his hand, and the tiny but very much present drop of blood lingering in it. He'd dispose of it later.

"Thank you for your services," he said, when Szayel had finished. His smile was darkly amused, but he was glad to be able to get out of there, at last.

Lumi pushed himself up the rest of the way with one hand. Moving hurt. Moving hurt rather a lot, actually. Szayel was right about that much. He felt awful. Truly terrible. Everything ached, all of his muscles seemed to protest against him sitting straight, moving his legs to the side of the bed, and attempting to get up.

He couldn't work out why. The gunshot was enough to have caused a problem in the arm and shoulder, that was for certain, but the rest of it? He felt as though he'd over-exercised enough for his muscles to stiffen as a result of that, which was absurd. He knew that he hadn't.

Lumi made a soft noise of discomfort as he made to stand, a frown on his face.

Marluxia, after a moment, offered his arm to help stabilise Lumi. Lumi had taken chakra damage, too, and Marluxia knew how it felt to try and move about with genuinely drained chakra resources. Lumi hadn't experienced the like before, and Marluxia could tell her was suffering.

Still, he wasn't about to pick Lumi up and carry him again. For one, he was heavy. Not heavier than he looked, considering his height, but he was still heavy, and Marluxia had carried him some distance yesterday.

"A hot bath and a good meal will help," he said, quietly. He'd learned that one for himself, too.

In the meantime, Marluxia himself needed some sleep, a hot shower, a cup of coffee, and then, unfortunately, to speak to Vexen. Today just got better.

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It's hard to find true equilibrium.

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