[ One at a time. Distantly, Venom hears Kaz giving him a three-syllable order over the sound of Dorian's harsh breathing, and a beat later, Nyx's single-syllable affirmation that he's awake and in his right mind (if distressed). Nothing is exactly aligned where they need to be— they're all scattershot messes here, Venom probably less so than the others— but the pieces are slowly coming back together.
Venom entrusts the safety of the stairs to Nyx. Frayed but lionhearted; he knows he can trust Nyx to watch over Kaz and make sure that they both support each other.
Now, Dorian.
One badly-timed shift, and his companion is gritting screams between his teeth. To say that it's not ideal is an understatement; to say that it's worrying, even more of one. So he stops them both from moving any further, palm up and knees bent in a low crouch. Single eye as still as an ocean, expression devoid of any personal discomfort or pain. Just a steady affirmation of a presence, of a tangibility that he demonstrates with one gloved hand reaching to wipe the sweat and tears from the peak of Dorian's cheekbone. ]
You're good. Stay with me.
[ There's blood caught in Venom's facial hair, perspiration dotting his temple, but the set of his jaw is strong without being tense. His voice pitches down to a temperate bass, like the hum of old engines. Time-weathered but smooth. ]
Think you can trust me with something personal?
[ That's what the 'sacrifice' entails, after all. The question is largely hypothetical— no one here has a choice, Dorian least of all— but Venom poses it anyway, with his friend propped on one knee and his palm shifting to rest lightly over those hurt-stained eyes.
If it's easier for Dorian not to look at Venom while he speaks, Venom will do him the courtesy. ]
no subject
Venom entrusts the safety of the stairs to Nyx. Frayed but lionhearted; he knows he can trust Nyx to watch over Kaz and make sure that they both support each other.
Now, Dorian.
One badly-timed shift, and his companion is gritting screams between his teeth. To say that it's not ideal is an understatement; to say that it's worrying, even more of one. So he stops them both from moving any further, palm up and knees bent in a low crouch. Single eye as still as an ocean, expression devoid of any personal discomfort or pain. Just a steady affirmation of a presence, of a tangibility that he demonstrates with one gloved hand reaching to wipe the sweat and tears from the peak of Dorian's cheekbone. ]
You're good. Stay with me.
[ There's blood caught in Venom's facial hair, perspiration dotting his temple, but the set of his jaw is strong without being tense. His voice pitches down to a temperate bass, like the hum of old engines. Time-weathered but smooth. ]
Think you can trust me with something personal?
[ That's what the 'sacrifice' entails, after all. The question is largely hypothetical— no one here has a choice, Dorian least of all— but Venom poses it anyway, with his friend propped on one knee and his palm shifting to rest lightly over those hurt-stained eyes.
If it's easier for Dorian not to look at Venom while he speaks, Venom will do him the courtesy. ]