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[sterngaze]

Liem Talbott

communion · mail · action

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Liem's mindscape is dark; quiet; contemplative. Any feelings or sensations that Liem doesn't intentionally project himself seem distant, as though echoing from a far-off room. Following any given sense to its source is bafflingly difficult.

Comments

post-Alenroux dissipation;

[warmare]

[It has been days since the shardbearers went to Alenroux and discovered that it was deserted before nightfall for a reason. Even more days since the leaders of the Meridian and Zenith had called upon their followers to investigate the fate of a missing man, and ask for his rescue or the retrieval of his shard. It’s been a week since a priest of Abadar and a jinba archer had set foot into the woods of Alenroux for their own reasons… and if sheen half a day less than that since Liem Talbott had died on the forest floor.

What made it worse was that Hayame had been there, and yet because of her weakness… For most intents and purposes, Liem had died alone.

More debt. More things between them that she does not know what to do. In her ignorance, Hayame does only what she feels is her duty, what she feels is owed… what she hasn’t begun to pay him back yet. She stands guard, she warns others off stepping on this patch of root-filled land, and-

She tires. The man who had healed her had warned her that her body would pull from its own physical capabilities to reknit flesh and reseal blood vessels, but still she is exhausted. Exhausted enough that… When Liem begins to awaken and claw his way free from the roots…

Hayame is a deep in sleep by his “bedside”, curled up tight and her face pillowed in the crook of a limb.]

[sterngaze]

[Liem comes to wakefulness gradually, becoming aware of a softness weighting his limbs and slowing his thoughts. He crawls free of the feeling bit by bit, and as he does so, he pushes at the membranous womb of sap and earth and root that now cradles him. He is at the Tree again, and this time he is the one being birthed from its maze of root and soil. The thought dawns on him as his fingers claw through a thin layer of dirt and punch through to air.

His hatching is not a swift one. His limbs now remember the jelly-like weakness that had overtaken them when he was first summoned, and he needs to rest frequently. As he discovers, however, despite his dampness and his confinement, he is not unclothed. He is still wrapped in the sturdy garments he'd worn to Alenroux, and although they are still torn in places from the final moments of his fight, he is relieved to find that they smell of nothing but sap and petrichor.

He's pulled himself half out of his cocoon and is slumped limply against a large nearby root when he spies the sleeping figure curled nearby. His heart lifts when he sees that, aside from some clear amount of exhaustion, she seems to be as whole and well as he could have hoped for. He has to clear a week's worth of disuse from his throat before he can raise his voice enough to speak.]

Hayame.

communion.

[vapour]

[ Liem will receive a communion link request from a fellow harbinger sometime around the latter half of the first week of Takiltu. If he accepts, he'll hear a voice curious as if someone was peeking into a house from a door that was unlocked to see if anyone's there. ]

Hellooo..? Liem?

[sterngaze]

[It's been quite a while since Liem fielded a communion message from anyone out of the blue. He takes a few moments to pick up, presumably putting on pause whatever he was doing at the time, and when he does, his mental voice is cautious — like a traveller pausing in the road on a still, summer night to listen to an unexpected noise.]

Yes? Can I help you…?

a letter sent at the start of emru

[cutlery]

[ Past the events of the Scorching Isles, NAME will receive... A very nice, handwritten letter! Which, if you prefer the actual easy to read text (fair), is here. ]







[ Also included is Sebastian's address, which is located near the Tomes in Highstorm. Should your character wish to attend (and bring a +1), that log is a mingle style one here! No pressure to tag it if you're busy, but just let me know whether your character attends or not if you can't swing it OOC! ]

EARLY MARCH, BEFORE MANON.

[redsoil]

[ There is an obnoxious banging sound coming from Liem's front door.

Incessant, rough. It carries on, seemingly without end because apparently the individual on the other side of the door carries their discourtesy as a weapon, as the core of their person. It might give hint to who might be there, if/when Liem opens his front door. Set, dressed as he ever is ( gold jewelry, dark shendyt ), beautiful still, though amidst the dark, smeared kohl around his eyes there is the hint of exhaustion. A wrung-out weariness that cannot be physical, but emotional. ]

— oh good, [ he snaps, irritable. The moment he sees Liem, the worry that had creased his brow bleeds away, replaced with a disgruntled thing. ]

I see you did not catch your death on the Isles, only that you have been hiding.

[ WOW YOU'RE THE ONE WHO CAME TO SEE LIEM, SET. BEHAVE. ]

[sterngaze]

[Liem has just finished heating a pot for tea, and is in the midst of sitting down with it and a religious treatise he borrowed from Highstorm's library, when someone walks up to his door and begins banging on it like they're trying to hammer the thing down. He looks up with a startled frown; who in the world would be pounding at his door with such vigorous incessance? The noise draws him from the well-embroidered couch in his tidy sitting room, through a house that is as lightless as a well-appointed crypt, and to the narrow foyer into which his front door leads.

When he opens the door, his wary frown smooths quickly into a look of tired incredulity. Liem is sans jacket, in just a rust-coloured waistcoat, matching pants, and a lighter shirt. He is not wearing shoes.

There is a gaunt, sallow quality to his face as he squints against Springstar's eternal day, peering at Set from the dark of his home. Ironically, though he looks substantially worse than he had during the icy island expedition in the previous month, Liem has actually felt better in the last few days than he had for weeks previous. This is well, because he is running out of house-related errands to keep him properly busy.]

Did you track down my residence just to scold me like an errant novice?

[How had he tracked down Liem's house, actually? He hasn't told almost anyone where he lives. In fact, as far as he knows, Cetina is the only one who knows. Well. She was the only one.]

Or do you have business with me?

SCREECHES IN

[gravings]

[ The forests of Alenroux are especially dangerous. Even Gray, who feels she has a pretty fair record when it comes to monster-fighting, can feel how strangely formidable the creatures here are. Maybe they grow off the same fertility that makes the land so ripe for farming. In any case, she was unable to explore the entirety of the island on her own thanks to the more heavily monster-infested areas, but with Liem to help her along, she feels comfortable that they'll manage to make some progress.

It all goes swimmingly until it doesn't. More monsters rush them than expected, and Gray is caught off-guard by a particularly determined one — a stupid mistake that catches her in a broad swathe across her arm. She dulls the pain with magical strengthening and carries on, dispatching of monsters with Liem until the forest falls back into an oppressed silence.

Gray lets out a breath and looks to Liem to see how he's faring. She ignores her injury for the moment, a long gash that turns her white sleeve into a curtain of crimson. She continues to dull the pain, keeping the ache of it down even as the adrenaline begins to fade. ]

Mr. Liem? Are you alright?

[sterngaze]

[Liem is in poor condition to be hiking around dangerous, monster-infested wildernesses at the moment. He'd wanted to, after multiple shifts spent staying at the Meridian outposts, as a watchman and support defence in case of encroaching monsters or hostile Zenites. The job had been too quiet; he'd felt like an invalid — and he wasn't. Compared to the rank and file of Springstar's military, he was much better suited to delving into the forest and hunting down dangerous beasts. He knew he could be more useful out here than back at the outposts, waiting out the worst of his withdrawal.

What if he felt ill for another four weeks? He couldn't let it put him out of commission for that entire time.

But it is tough going. He tries his best not to hold back their pace as he and Gray explore some of the more risky areas of the wood — but it takes them longer than they'd anticipated to reach the section they'd wanted to scout, and his fatigue is unquestionably to blame. Perhaps if they'd reached their destination earlier in the evening, the monsters wouldn't be so active. For all that Liem pulls his weight in actually exterminating the ones that come for them, he can't help but feel like it's his fault Gray is injured.

He is fortunate enough to avoid any especially bad wounds during the melee. There's an acid burn on his hand, and his hip is pretty bruised, but he can ignore the ache until they're back at camp. It's Gray's arm that worries him.]

A little roughly treated, but nothing serious.

[He doesn't need to examine her arm to tell that she's still bleeding; the sharp, beguiling smell of flowing blood envelops him when he steps closer, still dragging in heavy breaths from the exertion of their battle. He has to force himself to speak through a throat gone suddenly tight.]

Miss Gray, your arm. We should… tend it.

[Because he's worried for her, yes — but also because he's not going to be able to focus on anything else until they do.]

[warmare]

Liem. Good afternoon.

[... Small talk is not a specialty of hers. She thinks perhaps she should try, but. She has a question to ask, and it feels strange not just to ask it. After an uneasy pause in which she attempts to ask anything else first-]

Have you seen hide or tail recently of the war god, Set?

[She knew they were at least vaguely acquainted, but... most of the people she knows for sure have deeper bonds with the man (god) she despises, and she will not speak to them, even in a time such as this.]

[sterngaze]

Good afternoon.

[Though Liem’s mindspace has returned largely to its usual austere quality since his return to Meridian, the cracks smoothed over and the tremors calmed, it is not quite the same cool and quiet place as before. There are lit candles on the freshly-washed altars. Inside the endless maze of cathedral-like rooms in which he may be found, for once he dwells within one with… windows. A touch of light warms the pale stone within.]

Set?

[He had wanted to speak with the god, to tell him of his return to Meridian, but…]

Actually, it has been some time since he came to beat down my door. That is unlike him.

action; several days following the end of the exalt

[redsoil]

[ There is no truenight, in Springstar. The darkest place he knows is Liem's home, kept cool and dim and apart from the dual suns that eternally shine in the skies. Routine is kept, time managed in a way that allows shops to close and workers to return to their homes for rest, companionship, and to recover for a new 'day' — and there are those, who need none of those things. The perpetually awake divine, such as Set, who dabbles in sleep and meals only as experiences, rather than necessity.

Which is why, come 'night', when there are few places open and the allure of the dark pleasures of the Last Dance are not calling to him, that he turns to soft, fine grains of sand and slips his way into Liem Talbott's home in patient increments. Puddling upon the handsome floor of his room, as he patiently feeds his natural weight in sand through a meager crack in one corner of the window's sill. Hardly enough to let a breeze through, but the sands of Egypt are ancient and worn to intensely fine grain, and so he finds his way.

As if caught on the wind, he flows across the floor in rivulets and ribbons, lifting up against gravity itself to slip his piece of the old desert under the sheets and blankets of Liem's bed — and by the time his arms begin to curl around the man's waist, he is whole and warm and solid. And hopefully, he hasn't woken the priest ( haha as if ), as he tucks his face into the back of Liem's head and rests there, awake but unmoving. ]

[sterngaze]

[Liem has been sleeping a little better, these last few nights, than he often has previously. His blood-rich diet during the tail end of the Oracle trial alleviated many of the aches and illnesses that tend to plague him — and somewhat surprisingly, he has continued to feel well even days after the event’s conclusion. It is so unusual for him not to feel ill, he’s not used to getting so much done. He’s not used to sitting down to tackle paperwork and just… concentrating on it easily, finishing it at a normal hour, and being able to go to bed.

He’s also not used to sinking so easily and restfully into slumber, but then, the months he’s spent in Springstar have actually done him some good as far as his sleep routines are concerned. He’s always had trouble resting during the true dark of night. In that way, at least, the ever-vigilant twin suns are a blessing.

But no matter how soft and peaceful his slumber, he cannot help but wake when he feels the mattress shift ever so slightly beneath him, and the blankets slide just so above. There is hardly any sound, but the quiet still seems different somehow. When Set’s arms slide warm around his waist and his face presses into his hair, Liem’s eyes are already open, staring out into the well-curtained dark of his room.]

Set.

[His tone is dry and unbothered, but the body tucked against Set’s is tense in its motionlessness. Liem has never been comfortable with touch that comes unexpectedly, which this most certainly is.]

I didn’t hear you come in.

[To his private dwelling, which Set does not live in. Supposedly.]

mid-Iqnu (cw: torture, eye things)

[warmare]

[Weeks after the Exalt Oracle had been claimed, in the middle of a perfect, lovely day, one in which it might seem nothing could go wrong at all... Someone is screaming.

With no warning, no build, the equivalent of a sudden desperate, panicked pounding at the door, an attempt at Communion comes slamming into Liem's psyche. There are no actual words, no plea for help in anything but a jumbled, inarticulate, weak longing for it, but stronger is the vicious shame, the fear, the blame, the rage, rage brighter than a blazing sun ready to flare.

An eye, sickly green, dangles between gloved fingers, but then it is a stormy grey eye, dangling by the slick and severed optic nerve between bloody fingers in the rubble of a city under siege. Pain deep in the skull spreading, spreading, something that should never be touched flayed raw and pulled out, on fire at every ending, the glint of a scalpel sharp in the overbright light. A young jinba covered in blood and viscera smiles eerily, holding out a freshly cut slice of liver in offer as if it hadn't just been ripped from the half-butchered human on the table. There are sharp teeth smiling sadistically, shadows caressing soft over skin in contrast with the pain that makes her want to vomit. Liem's arms, wrapping hesitantly around her waist, his cheeks hot and wet where he buries his face in her chest, but then the wet isn't tears it's blood, even hotter, crimson, bright and smeared around his lips. Blood on the fingers that pull out of the hole where an eye once was, blood in her mouth as she tries to bite through her tongue. Ropes, straps, no matter how much she struggles she can't move, she can't fight, no, no, no, she doesn't want it, she doesn't want it and it doesn't matter, it hurts, it hurts෴

And then there's nothing.]

[sterngaze]

[After the cool, stilted way his presence had been rebuffed the last time he attempted to speak with Hayame, Liem is not expecting her to seek him out through communion — and certainly not with such urgent force. The wave of her psyche crashes into him, battering against his mental walls and flooding inside in a torrent when he lowers them to admit the panicked connection. Though he cannot quite grasp the meaning of the jumble of images and sensations, struggling to separate memory from reality, one thing is immediately obvious: Something is very wrong.]

Hayame? Hayame! What is going on?

[He reaches out, into the sudden silence, and is met with nothing — the same empty feeling that had met him weeks before, when Set had vanished so suddenly, only to emerge “according to plan” from a cocoon at the Tree of Life.

What has happened to her?

Liem does not stop seeking that vanished connection. Even after he visits Hayame’s home, checks the inside and the grounds in search of clues of her whereabouts. Even as he roams Alenroux and asks others if she has recently been seen. He reaches out again: hours later, and then then again, until finally his seeking mind might connect with something, even if it is only a wall.]

Hayeme? Hayame, were are you?

after the above......

[leicesters]

[The communion that follows some time after Hayame's is like a sharp wind, one that whips at the skin, sudden and impossible to ignore. Claude is angry, but not at Liem in particular, even if he's the unfortunate recipient of it right now. He isn't sure who else to turn to, when he has little faith in Hayame's other so-called 'friends' to be of use, or even that they're trustworthy.

With none of his usual flippancy, his communion is short and to the point.]

Have you seen Hayame recently?

[sterngaze]

I do not know where she is.

[Impressions from Liem's mind are difficult to discern, as though seen through stained glass — but there is a muffled feeling of quiet tension, the same kind that might be found within a tightly-wound spring.

After the sudden and disorienting barrage of memory and sensation, Liem had taken the nearest cornerstone to Hayame's residence himself, to seek any sign of her and deduce where she might have gone. But all was as it should have been; if she was attacked, it did not occur at her home.]

I have not seen her since the week after the Oracle trial. Are you looking for her too?

🧍‍♂️ i know what you are october shenanigans

[damnpire]

[After all the BS that has transpired in the last few months, Liem is probably glad to have a day to be at home and vibe. Unfortunately, mixed with all of the sudden flipping of Kenos as a whole, a large and looming silhouette appears at his door.

Most of the time on the Frontier, his appearance is heralded by fear--no one wants the vampire hunter D coming for them--but this time, D is only here to talk a little.

And he's polite, knocking firmly on the door and waiting patiently. Liem has always been helpful and polite to him, so... returning the favor. He's pragmatic and does not pride himself on jumping immediately to violence even when vampires are involved.]

🧛

[sterngaze]

[Liem can’t remember the last time he’s been able to just stay at home and vibe. The closest he ever really comes is taking a day to stay in and do housework, which is what he’s in the middle of when he hears the unexpected knock at his door. This, in and of itself, is already unusual. He pauses in the midst of running a dusting rag over one of the end-tables in his sitting room, clad only in slim trousers, house slippers, and a button-up shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Perhaps one of his neighbours has come to speak with him. The only other person who usually shows up at his door unannounced is Set, and the polite knock he now makes his way to answer is a far cry from the cacophony the war god always beats against the polished wood until the very moment the door finally opens.

(It is not a neighbour, of course, though they certainly are watching, peeping from front gardens and between lacy curtains. Mr. Talbott deserves a nicer man than the red-haired harlot who makes frequent visits to his home, barefoot and half-dressed, but this tall figure in black is a bit ominous for a suitor.)

As always, Liem answers his door with a bit of a squint; he doesn’t wear his glasses inside his own home, and indeed, the house behind him is thick with shadows, the curtains all mostly-drawn to keep out the suns’ light. Even the strangeness of Springstar’s gathering darkness of late cannot coax him into opening the curtains wider. When he sees D, however, his eyebrows lift in an expression of surprise.]

Dee— This is unexpected. To what do I owe this pleasure?

a memory—

[kenosnpcs]

[ Very suddenly, there’s a sense of Communion touching your character’s mind. However, it’s as if they connect with the mind of a shared Aspect, as they’re not able to block out the brief, but sharp memory that comes to them. ]

It wasn’t necessarily something they’d set out to do, but opening a little shop to offer carefully handcrafted and enchanted jewelry had been more popular than they’d expected. A Shard-Bearer watches a customer leave with a smile, and they feel a deep pang of pride that they’d made something of themselves after all.

[ ooc note — Just to avoid OOC confusion/misinterpretation, the details included in this memory are random and are not necessarily interconnected or plot meaningful beyond a surface level. However, your character is free to interpret this random memory however they’d like! This event will also be touched on somewhat during today’s NPC Communion Post. ]

communion

[gravings]

[ Hello... Gray probably could have just tried to drop in on one of Liem's baking sections to chat with him, but today her concern is a little more urgent. She carefully peeks her way through to Liem via Communion, like a candle entering a dark room. ]

Mr. Liem? Um, would you have a moment to chat? Specifically, I wanted to ask about something...

[sterngaze]

[The fact that Liem is now a T3 shard-bearer and also Springstar nobility and still regularly goes to the community centre lmao... A pillar of the Springstar community.

Liem's presence emerges quietly from the dark, making him seem to come from nowhere. Hello, Gray.]

Certainly, Ms. Gray. What can I do for you?

action...

[redsoil]

[ Set slipping into Liem's home through a tiny crack heralds one type of conversation. His standing at the front door, knocking, in full view of Liem's nosy neighbors, means another is coming — a storm, perhaps. The expression on Set's face is a little smooth, purposefully controlled.

Rather than launch into it, the moment he sees Liem ( the moment the door opens, he sees the hint of that handsome nose or hears his voice ) — he reaches for his face and folds it between his palms. ]

You're okay.

[ Relief.

Gen and Ruby had been dissipated, but Liem was okay. ]

[sterngaze]

[In the days immediately following the conclusion of the Harbinger Oracle, Liem avoids the public as much as possible. The discovery that the trial’s events were broadcasted publicly leads him to revert back to old habits, hiding his face with sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat, going out for only necessary reasons—which leaves him at home a little more often than he otherwise would be.

By contrast, the familiar beating on his door is welcome, despite the racket the knocking raises all through his home. Liem is in his study when the knocking comes, working on a private project, and he shuts the door behind him before descending to receive his guest.

Somehow, the warm hands immediately framing his face still startle him.]

Yes, I am.

[Surprise lends that same slight flush of dusty violet to his cheeks. He hadn’t realized Set might actually be worried for him in a circumstance like this. His hands come up to briefly cover the god’s, before sliding down to his wrists.]

My time in the maze was less eventful than most, I’m sure. But please, come in.

[So the neighbours can’t gawk at them the entire time.]

new year's delivery

[warmare]

[On the first day of the new year by the Kenosian calendar, Hayame seeks out Liem Talbott, though... it is easier to ask him to come down and meet here in the little garden. There is a certain formality to her visit at first, not just the fact she has come dressed in her one formal dress (which he may recognize from the dance lessons he gave her before a certain masquerade), the shorn short remains of her hair styled as best she could. There is ritual to the greetings she is attempting to recreate in this world- the ones she had grown up emulating and learning so that one day she might perform them. A low bow, gratitude expressed for the care in which she has been held the past year...

But eventually she softens from the rigid (though sincere) motions, in order to present what she has brought. Somewhat embarrassed, inexperienced in being in any sort of position to give actual gifts to people, she manages to explain that in her world it is customary to present new clothing on the occasion of the new year, and he had gifted her something for the holidays already, so...

She has brought this- a long, dark robe that resembles the fashions she is used to from her own world. Close enough, anyway. Liem had been a difficult man to procure clothing for considering he... seemed so particular about his appearance and his fashion choices, but she thinks this much might still be to his liking. It is not restrictive, and it is sturdy, there is plenty of concealment to it to hide pouches and weapons beneath. As she puts it in his hands...

She manages to say that she hopes he likes it. That it would honor her if he were to wear it. And that they will be in each other's care for the next year as well.]

POST-HARBINGER ORACLE, AFTER CYRUS MTG

[warmare]

[Hayame tended to prefer to speak in person, rather than use Communion, when possible. It was less risky, less invasive, to a person that valued her privacy. But... there are a select few she does not feel as uncomfortable approaching this way.

Liem is... one of those. Which might be why, even though she could just show up at his home (and might... be very close to his home right now), she reaches out to "knock" on the door of his mind before,]

Liem, good afternoon.

Are you free to speak... ?

[sterngaze]

[Catching Liem while he's at home is always a real roll of the dice, given he is so often out at the Church, or in Alenroux, or nosing around Kowloon. Sometimes he wonders how often people knock on his door when he isn't there, given the unpredictability of his schedule.

His mental doors, however, are always attended. Liem opens his readily to Hayame's chilly mountain.]

Good afternoon, Hayame.

I am, yes. What do you need?

[Perhaps she has something about her eye to discuss? Since the hunt for a way to replace it is still rather ongoing.]

communion

[wolfish]

[ Yuri's presence in Communion starts simply with the impression that someone is there and waiting. Like a surprise visitor who pauses before knocking on the front door, unaware that he's been spotted through the window, there's the briefest of hesitations.

And then he presses past it. The intrusive nature of these communications can't be helped, he knows, even as he suspects Liem may be much like him in preferring his mind be a private place. ]

Do you have a few free minutes, Liem? I took your advice and had myself a chat with Set. He had a message for you, among other things.

[sterngaze]

[Liem has become more used to communion in the year and more he’s been in Kenos—though the intimacy of communing with other Harbingers will always set him a little ill at ease, regardless of how necessary it may be. The desire to keep his thoughts and feelings private is hard to entirely ignore.

But he receives Yuri’s intrusion gracefully, even so.]

Ah, Yuri. You did? I hope it was productive.

[He doesn’t really know what kind of information Set might have had to impart—he just feels confident it must be more than he himself has access to.]

I hadn’t expected him to ask you to play messenger, though. What did he say?

early month-ish,,,

[redsoil]

[ — there is something on his mind, quite obviously.

Where Set is usually an animated individual, full of movement and impassioned word, he sits quiet with calmed expression. A vaguely contemplative atmosphere surrounding him, eking out into the space he shares with Liem Talbott. Having come to him in the wee hours of Skysong's dusk, to settle up in the comfortable shadows of his home with his steady companion. The light gleaming off the band that rests on his finger, worn without hesitation to display Liem's claim upon him.

Set hm's soft, turning red eyes up towards Liem. Mouth pulled into a mou of — well, is it ever clear what he is feeling? It could be delighted frustration. It could be solemn eagerness. He is, at heart, a god of deep dichotomies and warring natures, after all. A guardian and a warrior, man and beast and nature. All things, which soften and curl and warm when he finds Liem's gaze. ]

Come here, Liem.

[ Stretching an arm out, he invites the priest to him. To settle against his side, wanting to touch him and take comfort in him. ]

I have been thinking. Of our duties to Meridian which guide us all too often, yes — but also, of you. Separate of the war and what has brought us together across time and space.

[sterngaze]

[Even in the small hours of what passes for Skysong’s evening, there is never any guarantee that Liem is at anything resembling rest—particularly in recent days, as his decades-long sleep seems to have sunk restlessness deep into him, so that finding even a few hours peace to sleep is a rare luxury. He is not unwell, necessarily, but his wakefulness does seem stretched tight with some latent strain.

This particular night finds him in his study, organizing notes from the many old newspapers he’d pored over in Skysong libraries over the past few days. Even after Set arrives, he insists on finishing some cursory ordering so that he’ll be able to find his place again whenever he returns to his task later on.]

Separate? How so?

[The marks he’s made will have to do. Liem looks back at Set and, seeing his gesture, pushes himself away from the desk so he can cross the little room, to the couch he sometimes uses for reading. He folds himself precisely down onto the seat and fits himself against the other man, as though there is a Correct way to cuddle and he intends to be the best at it.]