[Claude feels... awful, really, and he's still getting his bearings, but one of the first things he does is reach out to Byleth. Not Sothis, but his friend, the one he was -- still is -- concerned he might never speak to again.
Still, he tries to remain calm, even with the urgency pushing through in the Communion.]
Byleth, it's me. Are you okay? You made it back, right?
[Byleth was still trying to regain his bearings after waking up in his garden of all places, the local cat that came by to filch dried fish from him pawing at his cheek. His entire body ached and his head hurt, and everything felt like a jumble in his mind. He actually didn't remember crawling back into his house - literally crawling - to lie down on the floor there instead as he tried to sort through the very unreal and abstract memories rattling in his brain.
He had never been possessed by Sothis for so long, and he was never allowing it to happen again, if this was the aftermath of it. He had never felt so disjointed and disconnected from his own body in his life.
Just as this dazed thought clumsily staggered through his mind, however, he felt an urgent Communion contact push against his consciousness. Raw as he felt, he flinched from it before recognising who it was: Claude.]
...yes. I'm at my home.
[Still trying to sort out what the fuck was going on, but since his home had been in ruins last he checked and it was now whole again... well, time travel, probably. Or maybe everything was fixed somehow? Whatever. He'll take any explanation.]
[At the mention of 'freshening up' Byleth realised oh, yeah, he was kind of gross too. Why did he feel so grimy...]
Yes. An hour. Goodbye.
[With that, he just, cuts the Communion. Sorry, Claude, after the week he's just had his tolerance for mind talks are in the negatives.
Also, in addition to the general griminess and exhaustion, he belatedly came to realise a somewhat alarming fact: his hair was considerably shaggier than he recalled it being before that whole nightmare started. Just how long had they been under that tree for? Just how many days had he lost without realising? Since when had his hair started reaching past his shoulders???? The inability to answer these questions himself was beyond unnerving and, admittedly, scary.
But it prompted him to clean up quickly (greasy hair was not fun when there was some length to it) and try to figure out the logistics of hacking his hair short with just his knife. This is definitely the scene Claude will enter to once he reached his house: Byleth, in just his tunics, hair damp from his recent clean-up, squatting over the small pond in his garden trying to use it as a mirror as he hacked his hair back to being short (success is... dubious.)]
Edited (when u get the 6am thought of wait T2 discord + week in tree = longish hair) 2023-06-06 05:14 (UTC)
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kenos, post-oracle event
Still, he tries to remain calm, even with the urgency pushing through in the Communion.]
Byleth, it's me. Are you okay? You made it back, right?
no subject
He had never been possessed by Sothis for so long, and he was never allowing it to happen again, if this was the aftermath of it. He had never felt so disjointed and disconnected from his own body in his life.
Just as this dazed thought clumsily staggered through his mind, however, he felt an urgent Communion contact push against his consciousness. Raw as he felt, he flinched from it before recognising who it was: Claude.]
...yes. I'm at my home.
[Still trying to sort out what the fuck was going on, but since his home had been in ruins last he checked and it was now whole again... well, time travel, probably. Or maybe everything was fixed somehow? Whatever. He'll take any explanation.]
no subject
[He's gross! No doubt they're all gross. But he still wants to check on Byleth as soon as possible, given everything.]
no subject
Yes. An hour. Goodbye.
[With that, he just, cuts the Communion. Sorry, Claude, after the week he's just had his tolerance for mind talks are in the negatives.
Also, in addition to the general griminess and exhaustion, he belatedly came to realise a somewhat alarming fact: his hair was considerably shaggier than he recalled it being before that whole nightmare started. Just how long had they been under that tree for? Just how many days had he lost without realising? Since when had his hair started reaching past his shoulders???? The inability to answer these questions himself was beyond unnerving and, admittedly, scary.
But it prompted him to clean up quickly (greasy hair was not fun when there was some length to it) and try to figure out the logistics of hacking his hair short with just his knife. This is definitely the scene Claude will enter to once he reached his house: Byleth, in just his tunics, hair damp from his recent clean-up, squatting over the small pond in his garden trying to use it as a mirror as he hacked his hair back to being short (success is... dubious.)]