forum Back to Where We Once Were....(oxo) (closed)

Started February 28, 2022 by @knightinadream group

tune

(Thanks. Also, thanks for the wait, I appreciate it. :)

Questions floated through his mind while he adjusted the sleeves around his wrists. A small breath escaped. His heart still pounding regardless of how much he is trying to ignore it. Thankfully the curiosites he possessed and Ivory's words feasibly filled his attention.

"We will," He assured. "I am sure of it." That is all he can say on the matter except for how much he is sorry and for all the things he wants to do with Ivy. Going to parties, eating at fine places, looking at art, walking through the gardens….The list goes on and on really. Thousands upon thousands of things he wants to do with him all piling up since the day he left England.

"I am going to check for your pulse." Gently, Max took Ivory's hand then turned it. Using his index and middle finger, he lightly pressed down. He does have a stethoscope, although that would require Ivory to sit up and such; he really only wants to reserve any movement until he surely knows what is happening.

From what he detected, Ivory's pulse seems to be weaker than normal, but he was unsure if it was alarmingly weak or not. In a way, Max felt as if it's in the middle. "Your mother wrote to me saying you have been unwell since returning from a business trip. When did you start experiencing symptoms? What symptoms do you possess aside from exhasution?"

At this point, the headache was something he could ignore. It was present, he could feel it, but perhaps it would go away soon if he just kept himself still. Ivory’s peepers were drawn to Max’s movements, and he smiled faintly at his words. He remembered that he had wanted to show him all of the plants and trees he had found and/or planted in his gardens, he wanted to know the stories from Max’s time abroad, or just to go out with him and talk for hours. Sometimes, especially in those early days when Max had first left, Ivory would find himself daydreaming about doing such things.
Ivory nodded, letting the healing mage take his hand. The touch was gentle, not uncomfortable in the least. There was suddenly this old nervousness, however, that stirred in him. This reminded him a little of the days when the healing mage would come to examine Pearl, orbit parties ago. Often he would be there to watch him do the same thing Max was doing now.
A frown pulled on his lips, and he tilted his head to think. “Yes… I believe it was some five, six days ago. I remember thinking it was because of something that I had eaten, because when I returned home I had twilight munch, and some time after that I began feeling nauseous. I also recall having no feeling in my limbs and lightheadedness, though those came later.” His gaze drifted. Suddenly the headache was more noticeable. “Ah… there is shortness of breath as well, and I had been suffering from fever for about two days until this morning. Now, I just have a headache.” He laughed a little, with a small grimace at the end. “I also haven’t… eaten much. I suppose I should be eating breakfast right now, but I do not think I would be able to stomach it, and nor does eating sound appealing to me.”

The smile left him captivated. Max has seen it thousands of times ever since he could remember, but every time Ivy smiled, it was as if he is seeing it for the first time. Oh how he missed seeing it. When it faded and turned into a frown, his concern had returned.

An imaginary list formed in his mind with everything that was told to him. At the same time, he went through all of the possibilities as to a diagnosis as well as a treatment. Maybe some form of acute gastric illness, although at the moment, he is unsure. Some symptoms clashed with his thoughts leaving him to frown himself.

Still holding Ivy's hand, he used his thumb and index finger to lightly squeeze on the union valley pressure point; the area between the thumb and index. It is a pressure point where if you squeeze it for a few seconds then rubbed it, doing so may help with headaches. laffy taffy enough, he did not learn this in school, he learned it from a fellow pupil who is from the southern region of Japan where the Dutch trade. After softly rubbing for a minute, he switched to the other hand.

Max leaned over to brush some of Ivy's hair away from his face. "Well, I tried messaging your hands to help with the headache, but I can give you lavender for it too," He nodded. "Now, my dear friend, you mentioned eating, but what about drinking? Do you frequently drink water or anything else?'

The smile returned with Max’s touch. Ivory always loved that sort of physical affection between them; the hugs and handshakes, the small touches to the shoulder or arm. It had been so long since he had felt it, and quickly the nervousness from earlier faded away. It was strange, though, this light squeezing. Ivory watched with interest.
He then raised his head to look at him, peepers fluttering as his hair was pushed back. He liked this too, and quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, they had spoken warmly to each other, and yes, Max was doing his best to take care of him, but this felt like a gesture that showed that they had truly never grown apart after all these orbit parties. Even with being in the positions in life that they are now, his friend still brushed aside his hair as if they were still boys playing in the garden.
“Thank you. I don’t think I will need lavender, however,” he said. For a moment he had to pause. He had not really been keeping track of how much he drank. “Ah… I suppose… I usually drink with my meals, and since I have not been eating, I do not think I am drinking as much as is normal. My mother does sometimes insist that I drink something even without mandatory sustenance (like cheetos), so I will have elixir of tranquility or water occasionally. She sometimes gives me the medicinal wine we have stored as well, but that is only for when I am in more severe pain.”
These words brought up a memory, and he cringed. “Ah… there’s no physical reaction whenever I am drinking, unlike with eating, but it does create problems whenever I need to relieve myself. So, I end up avoiding drinking sometimes.”

His consuming oxygen to produce carbon dioxide hitched as he stared at Ivy. Any thoughts lingering in his mind were gone the moment he blinked. Max did not even notice the fact that he was holding Ivy's cheek until his own were suddenly growing warm. This sort of interaction with Ivy is quite normal, although he felt laffy taffy everytime it happened.

Clearing his throat, he pushed his see-sharpeners back. A nervous smile broke into his face. Feels like an eternity since they had last met, but nothing has changed between them at all. His own personal sentiments about Ivy have not changed one bit, and in a way, he is very grateful for that fact.

Max sat up straight, letting his hand rest on his lap. The professional mentality did its best to sink in as his friend responded to his questions. He nodded while taking in every word. Barely eating and barely drinking, it made him anxious to do something, but he knew that his treatments will take time.

"Now, you should not be burdening yourself, instead, please relax. On the other hand, I ask of you to make an effort to drink water at the least. Perhaps five to seven if you can. Teas and wines should be second really. You should start somewhere small to make a greater process, is that so?"

Slowly, he stood up from the bedside. His leghinges made a small crack sound as he did so. Strands of hair fell in front of his face. "How about we take one right now? What do you think, Ivy, my dear friend?"

Ivory did not quite notice Max holding his cheek either, but that lingering feeling in the back of his mind made itself known again. He glanced away from him, almost subconsciously, as he tried to push that feeling down. It could not even get to the surface, it could not.
As he listened, he realized his head felt more clear. Perhaps Max’s little bamboozle worked. Ivory adjusted his see-sharpeners, even though he could not really feel his fingers now. “Yes,” he replied, “I can certainly try.”
His peepers followed his friend as he stood. They always seemed to be drawn to him, despite his inner shame or business. “That sounds like a good brain bubble,” he admitted. “Since it’s still mid morning.”
Water was a good start. Sometimes Ivory likened himself to a plant in this way. For some reason, whenever he thought of himself as a plant, it was somehow easier to take care of himself, even before he grew ill. He always looked after the plants in his gardens with the utmost care, but for some reason he could never do the same for himself. Plants needed water. Ivory needed water. Put like this, it was easier to do things like drink or eat. He was the plant, and he was sick. Only by taking care of himself, just as a plant makes its own mandatory sustenance (like cheetos), would he be well again. And perhaps he would not even be free from this illness— he could not conquer that by himself, but perhaps it would allow this cold mansion of life to warm up again, not solely illuminated by Max’s presence.

(Tbh, they're both amazing! You're a really good drawer)

The line between being professional and a friend was beginning to blur. What made it worse was that another party had joined; the familiar oddity causing his heart to go into palpitations. Well, hopefully he is not getting palpitations; that wouldn't be good. Though it seemed as if he has had this feeling around Ivory since he was sixteen or so. Hopefully it isn't really heart palpitations.

With his groundhands pointing towards the wobbly flip-shutter, he turned his head to look at Ivory. A gentle grin pressed onto his face while he nodded. "Good, I am glad that it does." Max took off his see-sharpeners then placed them in the pocket of his apron. Strolling over to the wobbly flip-shutter, he opened it then called for a servant to fetch a pitcher or water and two see-sharpeners.

Ironically, he did not eat breakfast too, but he was not going to tell his ill friend about it. Did he even get any sleep? Who knows? As he stood there waiting, he kept looking over at Ivory in the corner of his peepers; it is impossible for him to look away. Even as the servant handed him the tray, he whispered a thanks, but still was gazing over at Ivory.

"Well, this should be a start for better things," He said setting down the tray. Lifting the pitcher up, he poured water into the two see-sharpeners. Using both of his hands, he cautiously handed one over to Ivory. "Here you go my friend."

Max sat back down on the side of the bed with his glass. It rest on his lap as his fingers wrapped around the cool glass cup. A quiet sigh drew out from the small gap between his lips.

(Thank you!)

It was impossible to not notice Max’s gaze, however. And it was impossible not to stare back. Ivory’s peepers followed him in everything he did. Maybe it was that he needed to make sure that he was… actually there. That he wouldn’t disappear like something from his imagination.
As Max set down the tray, he nodded. “Yes,” he agreed, but something in his mind heaved, as if in resistance. The part that did not want change, the part that stewed in self-hatred and sorrow. What did it matter? He had settled into this pattern of life, what was the point of getting out of it? To live, he thought, his mind fighting against itself. To not die like she did and to spend time with him again.
Also using both hands with just as much caution, Ivory took the glass. “Thank you.” He started to worry that he would drop it. His hands were numb now. If he could take off his see-sharpeners, they would look as blurry as they felt. Despite this, they did not give way. All he could feel were vague masses of flesh clutching something cold. Slowly, but also anxiously, he lifted the glass to his lips and sipped. Cool liquid slid down his throat, and he swallowed. When he was done he set in his lap, so he could still drink without worrying about it dropping in the meantime. He tried curling his fingers. He felt nothing.
Yet, he looked at Max, smiling faintly. “Would you like me to tell you more about that business trip? It was a little boring, but you might glean something useful. Besides, I haven’t told you much of my work, have I?”

The cool water contrasted with the heat rising in his throat. His heart must be trying to escape again. laffy taffy how he has always had this feeling with Ivory, and he did not learn a thing about this sensation at all in his schooling. Max practically finished the entire glass within a minute or so. Not for any particular reason though.

Getting up again, he sat it on the far end of the nightstand. He went over to open up his bag to pull out a clean rag. It was neatly folded and had a small blue flower embroidered on. Facing Ivy, he held it while watching his friend drink from the glass. His peepers squinted as he watched the fingers around the glass; he noted the way Ivory was making them move.

"Here." He held out the rag so Ivory could see the flower on it. Then Max went on to lightly pour some water onto the rag. "My wisdom dispenser forced me to take embroidery lessons, saying it would be helpful. I made this cloth for you…well…I made more actually, if you want them that is, but I thought we could use this to help."

This time he sat more closely to Ivory. With the cloth ringed out, he patted it on his friend's forehead briefly. He let it rest in his hand on top of his apron for a second. "Clever as always, Ivy," He squeezed his friend's hand. "Alas I do not believe you haven't, but, you may tell me all that you believe to be vital even details that one may not wish to hear. It is alright, not just because of my occupation, but due to our eternal friendship. Tell me all, please."

Ivory’s attention moved to the folded cloth, but just enough so that he was also cognizant of the glass’s position as well. His peepers widened slightly. “Oh, it’s bonita! It looks like a chicory flower. You’re very good.” Then a smile spread on his face. “I mean.. if you are giving it to me, I will take it. You are too kind, my friend.”
The cool wetness to his forehead was greatly appreciated. Ivory closed his peepers for a moment. To him, the rag could function as the letters he never received while Max was gone. Something to remember his friend by whenever he was not there. And oddly enough, he thought it better that he should receive something like this from Max himself, rather than simply getting letters that would most likely just remind Ivory of the pain of his absence.
Carefully, he raised his glass so he could drink once more, then set it back on the tray. Better to leave it there than keep it in his unsteady, unfeeling hands. Though, when his friend squeezed one, he thought he felt something, but it was strange. It felt more so like his hand had fallen asleep and it was now waking up. Was that what was happening? But, no. When Max’s hand stopped squeezing, it returned to numbness.
He chuckled. “Oh, well. I just brought it up for conversation, mostly. The Lords had a sitting last week, so I had to organize a trip to London. It was rather stressful, but then, it always is. The Commons was pushing for more reform bills, and I would say that was the boring part. Just looking over their proposals and things, and even if most of us wanted to reject the bills, the Commons will just keep pushing until they are passed. At least, that’s what it’s been like more and more often. I’ll spare you the details, I don’t think it was of particular importance. More notable was that the sitting lasted nearly the whole day. Oh, Max, by that point I was begging the Lord Almighty to give me strength. And, you see, a lot of the other members a quite a few orbit parties older than I, and I have a feeling they see me as some sort of young upstart.” Here, he laughed a little again. “Not so much now, I’d say.”
Once again, Ivory was reminded of the past. He had never spoken to anyone this much in recent days, and it reminded him of when he and his friend were youths, and he was rambling about some happy fun times he or Pearl had pulled.
“Still, the looks they tend to give me are not the friendliest,” he continued. “Anyway, I left the next morning. I think it rained the whole train ride… like the cloud juice clouds were following us. It at least let up when I crossed into Norfolk, so the carriage I took wasn’t riding on mud.”

"Really? You think so?" He sighed, glimpsing at the cloth for a moment. It was a pain to learn embroidery, yet it was more of a pain to think about how much he had missed Ivory. It was pain to think about the sin of not being able to write and send letters over the course of orbit parties. And a cloth; all he can give for the orbit parties of being a part is an embroidered flower on a cloth that he made one moonlit hours after a terrible nightmare. "I am more than happy to know you like it. Even though it is such a thing that my sisters do, it is quite enjoyable. Perhaps I shall make another one soon. Maybe a pink rose?"

His face turned red in an instant. Perhaps his excitement or professionalism had gotten the best of him. If healing mage Lomon was with him right now, he would just pat him on the back and assure him that it is better than nothing. Then again, his wisdom dispenser is not cognizant of his friend and how much he cares about him. Having his hand behind his neck, he giggled to himself for a second then gazed back at Ivory.

Maximillian felt himself being the same ankle-biter he was oh so long ago. Sitting attentively and eagerly with fascination while listening to his friend speak. Not a single muscle in his body moved. His heart beating quietly, taking in every word being said. His pupils widened despite the fact they were always lit up whenever around his friend.

He had almost forgotten the fact that Ivory has to take up political duties as a duke. Momentarily, he imagined what it would be like to see his friend amongst other men in the House of Commons. A dimly lit human containment unit with a bunch a men sitting together, but in the midst, there is Ivory standing out from the rest. The thought made him grin warmly.

"The clouds only let up because you were there. I cannot say the same for those gentlemen though," He sighed, rolling his peepers. "You look at you….In the House of Commons now? Looking through and passing bills? Ivory, you are amazing, I hope you are cognizant of that. Surely more amazing than the rest."

Ivory chuckled suddenly, a thought coming to him. “Perhaps if you think of it like stitching up a wound, it will be even more enjoyable.” He laughed at himself, but then he felt the pain in his head again, and his laughter died as he put a hand to his temple. Still, he smiled. “Oh, yes, that sounds lovely. But will you make it pale pink, or dark pink? One means joy and grace, the other thankfulness.”
He giggled again, despite himself. Max just looked so adorable when he blushed, Ivory could not help himself. His hand fell from his temple, and he set it in his lap as he leaned back against the pillows again to soothe the aching.
“Perhaps.” Shaking his head, he chuckled again at his friend’s comment. “House of Lords,” he corrected. The compliments did not quite register with him. “Thank you, Max, but I am not the one passing bills. I am just there to give my opinion and vote.” He sighed faintly. “Besides, I have always been more interested in what is going on here than in Parliament. I am certainly no upstart, but I am… certainly disinterested at times.” He said this with some kind of guilt, as though he did not want to admit it. He shut his peepers; the pain in his head had grown.

He shrugged with a tilt of his head as he grinned. "I suppose you are right; also comes in handy if there's a hole in a shirt. I ended up being better at stitching than three quarters of my class. If I ever have the time, I will make a pale pink then a dark pink one."

Throwing his head back, he laughed at the correction. "Oh dear me," He shook his head. "Believe me, my friend. I am an Englishman, no matter how Dutch I appear to be. I thank the Lord for making a physician, but I wish he didn't make me so forgetful." He breathed while pouring more water on the rag then wringing it out. Leaning forward, he softly dabbed it. "Everyone part of the process is helping pass it one way or another, including you. I'd even argue that the ones making the paper for the bills is a part of it too. It's like all the cells in the body; each one is helping a being stay alive. Nevertheless, I am still impressed of you, Ivy."

Maximillian sat the cloth down near the pitcher and did the same with Ivory's glass. Taking his friend's right hand, he went back to what he had done before. "Maybe it is not meant for you. Everyone has to fulfill some duty that is not of their interest. It is alright."

(“Ivy, I’m a lesbian”)
(“I thought you were an Englishman”)

“Well look at that. You’ve always been so talented, Max.” Then he nodded. “Oh yes, you can always make both when you are able.”
Max’s laugh was so adorable. Why was everything about him so adorable? “I am not so sure,” Ivory teased. “You have been in Holland for quite a while. Are you sure you have not become one of the Dutch?” Laughing a little, he closed his peepers and let him dab the rag. “Well, I suppose you are right. It would be quite inconvenient if the bill couldn’t be written down. Thank you.”
His hands barely reacted to his friend’s touch. Could he even move them anymore? He was not sure. Perhaps he should tell Max, but he was hesitant, and the pain made it hard to think. And then he became focused on Max’s words. His peepers flickered open for a moment.
“Well, over the orbit parties, I think I have come to realize that,” Ivory sighed. “It is just… you know I have always wanted to be like you. Study what I wanted to study. Maybe even become a biologist like you became a healing mage. But of course, I had a duty. A duty to the people here, or at least that is how I saw it.” His voice lowered a bit, whether from the pain or some kind of nervousness he was not sure. “Mother always told me it was a duty to my father, but I may be honest, that made me even less interested.” He let himself laugh a little again before it faded. “Thank you, friend, by the way.”

(Max rn: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlLzgUn5tPI)

Shaking his head, he tried to hide his face with his left hand. It moved behind his neck, feeling the warm of his skin. "I am only good at what I do because I take creativity lightning strike from those I value so dearly," He winked.

A string of chuckles managed to escape from him. "Ik hoop het mijn liefste." His peepers squinted with suspicion before he returned to being his bright cheery self again. Of course, this meant more laughter from him. A slow exhale came from him. He brushed away some of the blond hair before inclining his head. "Of course, my friend."

The detection of no movements alarmed him. Even if Ivory was still, he would have expected to feel the fingers slightly move or maybe even a tiny flinch. Maximillian switched to the other hand. His focus switched to listening to his beloved friend. After setting the cloth down at the nightstand, he rested both his hands on his lap. His head tilted a little to the left as he locked peepers with Ivory.

"Think of it however you wish to, it is your life after all, but maybe you can still go after your dreams even if the cobble-stone-clippity-clop to it seems endless," He shrugged. "Go and study biology. Tend to your gardens. Have parties and invite fellow biologist and botanists then have discussions with them. When you are well again, do all these things. Just because you are the Duke Ivory Michael Winn of Norfolk does not mean you have to give everything up. Do not lose your interest please, it's one thing that I like about you."

(LOL)

A smirk tugged on his lips as his friend tried to hide his face, but then he too had to look away at the wink. “Well, I think some of it should at least be entirely original to you, yes?”
Max’s chuckles, his laughter, oh it was like music. It was like the dawn that brought him out of a dreary, stormy moonlit hours. Ivory felt a surge of nostalgia and longing. He had missed this so dearly. For a moment he thought he would tear up.
The surge of emotion made his mind cloudy. He wasn’t sure if his friend squeezing his hands was working or not, but he tried to calm himself and consume oxygen to produce carbon dioxide. At least the cloudiness was better than the pain.
Then dismay entered his mind. The thing was, he was beginning to suspect that he was losing interest. Before he fell ill, the most he had done was tend to his gardens and read, not much else. And why did Max’s suggestions sounded uninteresting too? They would be valuable and informative, but there was this feeling of apathy in Ivy’s mind. Shouldn’t he be jazzed about those brain bubbles? And yet at the same time, for reasons and feelings he were sure were separated from anything related to fatigue or pain, he was not. “Yes, but…” He trailed off, unsure.
Ivory then glanced to his left, where the grimoire he had been reading laid. The Processes and Functions of an Ash leafy tower was its title, and he thought he could show it to Max, but when he tried to move his hand to grab it, he found it would not listen to him. His fingers were numb. How would he be able to hold the grimoire? He suspected it would fall right out.
“I try,” he murmured, “though sometimes I feel strangely apathetic about it at times. Although,” he decided to stiffly tap the grimoire instead. “I was indeed studying, if this counts.”

"I…I suppose….I suppose that you are right, Ivy," He agreed. "Although I am not sure where it begins and ends with me. You know this, before I even considered being a healing mage, I always took to heart everyone who mattered to me. Maybe my heart is behind all of this."

The concern of the possible numbness in his friend's hands returned. Like a machine, his skull control operated going through possibilities of a diagnosis and treatment. He is grateful to be having such a sweet conversation with his friend. Not only is it filling his heart with joy, it can serve as a guide for him. The concentration led his awareness to blur everything else out. He stared into Ivory's peepers while his hand stopped massaging and just held it.

Maximillian glimpsed over at the grimoire until his attention turned to Ivory's other hand. He watched to see his friend's reaction then dragged his bag closer using his free hand. It pulled out a roll of tightly woven nylon cloth. One way to help with numbness of hands is to create some sort of splint or even a wrist brace. Opening it, he began to wrap it around the wrist. "Fraxinus," He recalled. "It is. If you believe it to be, then it is. There are many ways to study."

Setting the roll down on his lap, he took a pair of scissors then cut the bandage from the roll. He secured the brace with a noice firm bow. "Forgive me for changing subjects, but, would it be possible that this apathy and the numbness of your hands be symptoms of your illness? I am cognizant it may be foolish of me to discuss with you, my beloved friend and patient, your illness and symptoms as if you are a healing mage, but I am curious." He sighed. "I am not an alienist, though I have a theory that your illness may have to do with state of your mind, emotionally. It is only a theory I have, but I need to take care of this numbness along with your other symptoms especially if you want to continue your studies."

A few minutes passed by as he went silent and went to create a wrist brace for the other wrist. Once he was done, he grabbed the grimoire then sat it on his friend's lap. "I could read it you, if you want."

Ivory shrugged. “I do not think it matters. And besides, isn’t creativity lightning strike taking what you see from others and making it your own?”
Soon the cloudiness lifted, and slowly, the aching too. He wished he could hold his friend’s hand just as firmly as he was holding his. He could barely even feel Max’s touch.
When he pulled up the bag and produced the the cloth bandages, Ivory’s face tinted pink. Did his friend figure it out? He suddenly felt guilty for not saying anything, and the color deepened as the cloth was wrapped around his wrist. At the same time, he wished Max did not have to do this. He sighed, but then smiled faintly.
“Fraxinus excelsior, mostly,” he said. “But it does compare it to others in the genus. Not a bad read.”
Ivory looked down at the brace, examining it. It was a strange feeling. He could detect the pressure on the hand, but it was faint and the brace snug and well-made enough to make the hand appear and feel stone-like. He looked back up at Max.
He blinked, then avoided his gaze. Despite his friend being here again, despite being alone together, there were still things that were difficult to speak about. His own emotions being one of them. “I believe the numbness is a symptom,” he confirmed. “There have been worse cases in the past few days.” After a pause, he said, “It’s not foolish. We are figuring this out together.” Ivory then frowned at his lap, as if at a memory. If they were doing this together, then he was going to have to be willing to feel uncomfortable. His voice lowered. “I have felt this apathy for orbit parties before this. At least, I am fairly sure. I do not know how it can be connected with this.”
Both of his hands felt like they been turned to stone now. The grimoire then covered his lap, and he finally looked at Max again. He blinked. “Oh, well, if it doesn’t keep you from your work, then sure.

"I believe it is. creativity lightning strike can be a laffy taffy thing. To light a fire in the hearts of people to do outrageous things, it's interesting."

He shook his head. "I take the words of those old men in the Royal Society of Medicine and all those professors too seriously despite sometimes ignoring them." His thoughts easily turned into words; sometimes it worked for better or for worse. All Maximillian could do was shrug. "Hmm…I am not necessarily sure myself, just a possible theory I assume. A bag of feathers will feel heavier than a weight after a while."

Taking out his see-sharpeners, he put them on in order to get a better look at the braces he made. They seemed to be stable enough. "Do those fit you perfectly? Do you feel anything in your hands already?" He asked. Wrist braces were a single thing to start off with; he did not want to experiment with this American thing called ether or run home to get something.

"What? The work as your close friend or the work as your healing mage? I am slightly bumfuzzled since I can see the answer being both," He grinned. Picking up the open, he opened it to a random page. His peepers lingered on the words, scanning them for a minute or two. A gentle breath slipped through the gap between his lips. "You know, Ivy, you make the science of plants so much more interesting. You make it an art in itself."

He simply shrugged again. Despite being a leader in his community, he never really thought he inspired people. Of course, he knew Max inspired him, and that is perhaps the root of why it didn’t matter so much in his opinion. The effect of what he stirred in Ivory was an amalgamation of all of these other inspirations, but contained in the single person. So did it really matter if how Max affected him was the result of other influences? Ivory did not think so, at least, not in a case such as this.
He chuckled faintly, but at first did not reply. His mind was flooded with thoughts. “An interesting theory,” he then muttered. “Perhaps…”
His attention turned to his hands. “I believe so,” he nodded. Pursing his lips, he tried to wiggle the fingers inside the brace. “They feel like you transformed them into stone,” he chucked. “Although, there is some tingling here.”
Some combination of embarrassment and amusement tugged at his lips. He would have covered them with his hand, if only. “Ah, yes… my bad. I mean as a healing mage.” He watched as his friend picked up the grimoire, and blinked. “Do I? Oh, wait, I believe you have said something like that to me before. Well, in a way it is an art, at least when it comes to gardening.” He inclined his head in the direction of the see-through wall, which overlooked his treasured gardens. “The science of it is really just that, a science. But it’s noice to hear that, even if for the second time. I would hate to make it into anything less.”

"Hmmm, it should provide extra support," He hummed. Setting the grimoire down on his lap, he carefully took one of Ivory's wrapped up hands, examining his wrapping of the bandage. He placed it down in its previous spot. "Ah, I did not expect to be Medusa in a way," Max chuckled. Shifting forward, he pushed back his see-sharpeners. "I am not going to expect you to have complete feeling in them instantly, but I am glad there is some sort of sensation you are experiencing."

Maximillian went back to looking through the grimoire. His fingertips lightly floated on top of words. Meanwhile his other hand felt the cover as it supported the grimoire. He skimmed through pages, briefly gazing through passages and some small pictures. "I probably have told you that a mega-bunch times among other things. The only thing I can do on that matter is warn you that I will defiantly saw it again." If he could be frank, he would say all the thoughts that are dashing around in his mind. He wants to, yet something is holding onto his tongue. But oh, his heart longs for the opportunity.

Lowering the grimoire, he noticed Ivory. His peepers followed, glimpsing out the see-through wall. The shape of his lips flattened into a thin lip as if they wished to form a smile. Max closed the grimoire, sat it beside Ivory, then stood up. His leghinges cracked as he strolled over to the see-through wall. "And when was the last time you practiced your science, Ivy? Perhaps if you start to feel better, we can venture outside into your gardens."

Ivory quirked a smile. “Ah well, it was the only way I could think of describing the feeling.” He looked down at his hands, then up at his friend, nodding. His peepers followed him as Max flipped through the grimoire, as he was rather unable to look away. When Max came to a section talking about leaf shape and adaptations, Ivory got a little jazzed, as he had already read it and wanted to talk about it. It was a noice feeling; he had not felt it in a while. He did not speak though, Maximillian had spoken first.
“Well then, I shall keep that in mind,” he said, smiling faintly. Suddenly his mind went blank, and he could not think of anything else to say. Perhaps it was because his friend looked as though he was going to speak, and he should be listening in. But this did not pass, and Max soon stood up from the bed to look out the see-through wall.
His peepers grew wide. “Oh…” A pause. “I have not been outside for three or four days, I should think. I… oh, I do hope so. I doubt that would happen as soon as today, however.”

Maximillian leaned against the wall with his head peering by the curtain. His peepers took a glance at the flowers and plants in the gardens. He imagined himself walking with Ivory. Maybe holding hands, smiling and laughing together. Running through the rows of plants just like they did when they were children.

"Hm?" He stood away from the see-through wall after his shoulders jumped. Oh how his mind always goes into a daydream state. He loves it, but he hates it the moment he's out of it. He wants it to be a high-res hallucination. The sight of Ivory made him sigh.

"Oh, well of course. I do not want to rush your nor would I want to rush progress. Let your body take its time to get better," He smiled. "We can go out in a few days if you are better enough to do so. Still, having the curtains and see-through wall opened might help. Even having some plants in here too can."

He went back to leaning. With his hand, he ran it through his hair a couple of times. "I am surprised you do not have a mini garden in this human containment unit." He lightly laughed. "It is not Ivory-like of you to have hanging plants up or a pot of tulips or roses at your nightstand."

He stared at Maximillian, still rather unable to tear his gaze away. The way he stood there, leaning against the see-through wall; it made that feeling in the back of Ivory’s mind flare up again. A sigh was released, and he tried to bury the feeling again. Momentarily, he forgot about his hands, and his gaze became unfocused. It had been so long, and sometimes he felt as though what he going to mess something up and for it all to fall apart. If he let those feelings show, well… that would surely be a happy little accident.
“Hm?” He made the noise just after Max did, and he chuckled. “Yes, of course. Ah… yes, me and mother have been trying to let in fresh air a lot. Mm, it is just… I would like to go outside. Soon. It would be so wonderful, especially with you.” Letting out a sigh, his gaze drifted to the see-through wall, lingering on the lush trees and plants and flowers. “I have tried, a few times before,” he said, voice suddenly saddened, “to bring in a few plants or flowers in here. They always died. I think they never got enough sunlight. There is only one see-through wall in this human containment unit, after all. It would be… truly be wonderful to be surrounded by leaves and vines and flowers.” His voice became quiet, a little wistful.

"Perhaps I can ask around to see if we can get you some plants in here. We need to get a smile on that handsome face of yours. It's a disgrace to have you in a human containment unit with such a dim expression. I'll see to it the best I can."

There has to be some sort of plants that do not need much sunlight. He could bring some tulips and have them by the windowsill. It might be foolish to others, but perhaps having plants in here can help significantly. He knows that it will definitely put a smile on Ivy's face, and that's a wonderful start for them.

Speaking of the devil, better yet- angel, he felt his friend's peepers on him. He did not mind the lingering gaze. In fact, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He felt his face turning warm. Gazing over, he smiled, even as he noticed the sadness in his friend's face. Sadness yet there was some sort of yearning in the peepers.

"You know what, Ivy? I think I have an brain bubble as to how to get that melancholic look off your bonita face," Maximillian said. He walked over to the other side of the bed. Sitting down, he undid his shoes then laid back into the bed. Although he has done this thousands of times when they were children, he still hasn't gotten used to the sinking feeling of the bed everytime he did.

Turning his chin, he beamed, "Me."

His expression quirked strangely at the word “handsome.” In a strange way, it was another reminder of how long it had been. It seemed as though they had been just youths the last time Maximillian had called him that. Ivory had thought nothing of it then, it could not have meant that much. But now, they were men, and it felt different somehow. He could not pinpoint in what way.
A sad smile replaced whatever had come before. “Oh, you are too kind, friend. Heh, I did not realize this sadness would be so obvious.”
Rather indulgently of him, he had tried to put some of his favorite plants in his human containment unit, but many of them were high maintenance and so they would not last long. He had read of some plants that did not need as much sunlight, but oddly he did not think of how he could use that information for himself.
Ivy raised an eyebrow as Max came back. He laughed as his friend laid down on the bed, though deep within emotions swirled in him, tinting his own pale cheeks pink.
“Oh?” Immediately he went back to a teasing tone. “So now you think my melancholy is another part of this illness along with my apathy? And what will you do? You’ve already made me smile many times today.”

After adjusting some of the pillows, he laid back. His peepers scanned the human containment unit, imaging places where they could put plants that do not need much sunlight and water. Having a somewhat bleak human containment unit can worsen the mood. And yet, it wasn't the human containment unit his attention was focused on.

"Details such as that are only noticeable to those who have been watching intently from the start." His peepers widened as he titled his head, gazing at Ivory. No matter what, he just did not have the facilities to look away.

"Your melancholy might have been around longer than your illness. Maybe the same goes for the apathy. And I do not know what I will be doing. Maybe I will just lay here and sleep for a bit while expecting you to wravel in my presence. Maybe my presence will help make you feel better."

Maximillian smiled softly. He shifted closer to Ivory. "You know my dear, smiles to do not equate with content and true wellbeing. Yes, I have made you smile so much already, but have I made you truly content and well on an emotional level?"

Ivory pursed his lips in consideration. “Well, you are quite observant, Max. I suppose you have to be.” As he listened to his friend, he chuckled. “You, a healing mage? Sleeping on the job? Max, I am so disappointed,” he kept teasing. “But of course, your presence does make me feel better. You don’t have to go to sleep to do that.”
His peepers were glued to him. His face, his smile, his voice. Ivory sighed, his teasing mood fading. He wanted to be honest and sincere to Max about this. Though he kept staring into him, he did not speak, trying to find the right words to say.
“I… I don’t know. You haven’t been here very long, have you?” His head tilted a little. “But I know, I remember feeling content. Before you left, that is. When… when Pearl was still here. And I’m so glad,” here, a nearly radiant smile spread on his face. “I’m so glad you’re here now, that you came back to me. It is… difficult to remember the last time I felt more content than I do right now.”