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Occtis is not known for paying particular attention to others. He is generally socially unaware and out of his depth when it comes to social cues. Most of their group does not interest him. But for some reason his eyes have stayed trained on Julien since they started traveling together, and even more as of late. He draws Occtis in like no other, even if he would deny it if ever asked. He feels as if he has grown to know the knight behavior fairly well, and would go so far as to say he knows when he is acting strange.
All of which is to say, Julien is acting oddly. Not just in the way that the knight is generally confusing, his actions and words often conflicting, but in a deeper way. Occtis has noticed the way Julien has been on edge lately. A slight jerk of the head, eyes darting off to the side, looking around the group as if to see their reactions to something before shrugging to himself. All tiny things, not noticeable on their own, but adding up to be notable to him.
No one else mentions any of it at all, either because they do not notice or because they do not care, and Occtis feels like he is going crazy because of it. Even Julien himself seems to try and keep every odd twitch tamped down and under wraps, as if he did not want anyone to see his paranoia. A nice gesture but ultimately one that only makes Occtis even more nervous as the days pass and it does not ease.
Occtis finally breaks into their shared room at a tavern. The lead up had not been particularly notable, their party all retiring early after a long and arduous day of travel. Even for the more experienced in their group it had been an exhausting day, and Occtis is not as experienced as they are. Even with his undeath, every muscle feels wound taut and it hurts. Trying to sit on his bed and read proves to be difficult to focus on, spasms happening at random and pulling his mind for the novel each time. He feels truly miserable and would do anything to pull his mind from it.
Julien’s own nerves are not helping though, as even with a sketchbook and charcoal pencils in hard, Occtis sees the man quickly glance up with no rhyme or reason. He always stays looking up and alert for a split second before sinking back down and continuing with his work. After the fifth time this happens, Occtis finally shuts his book with just a bit too much force, causing Julien to jump again.
“What is it that you keep flinching at?” Occtis demands.
Julien looks almost bashful at the question but his answer is deadpan, “Ah- I had not realized it was so noticeable. It is nothing.”
“Nothing?” Occtis scoffs, then decides to throw Julien’s own logic in his face, “You’ve been twitchy all day. It’s clearly something, and if it will affect the group I have a right to know.”
“No, I already told you it is nothing, and that nothing is none of your concern Occtis,” Julien snaps.
Occtis knows he should back down, stop needling, but he is tired and in pain, and he wants answers to why Julien is acting so off.
“What does nothing mean here? Not something to trust us with? Not real? Not important? What is it, Julien? Because nothing is a bad answer, I’m sure even you know that,” He demands.
Julien’s own book now lays abandoned beside him, “Not real boy. Just figments of my imagination. Is that what you must hear to leave me be? That I am hearing things that are not there?”
Occtis knows he pushed too hard as Julien finishes speaking. If Julien's tone did not say enough, the furious, almost wounded look on his face is more than enough to paint the full picture. Instead of saying anything else and risking making it worse, Occtis nods a little, and picks up his book again.
He tries to focus, but still is unable to, now even worse than before as his head swims at Julien’s confession, forced out in a moment of anger. No wonder he tried to hide it, Occtis of all people knows how harshly others view the man.Julien has always been private about his struggles, and Occtis now feels awful for prodding when it was something so personal. He thinks back to the Eternal Night, how whispers in the voices of his companions filled his mind until he was sure he was going mad. Occtis wasn’t the only one either, all of them suffered then from it. Is this similar to what they had dealt with then, or is it distinct and different?
The need to ask bubbles up in the back of his throat, curiosity battling sense. Julien is upset right now, with a bag of wine now pulled out of who knows where. He drinks as he sketches, and Occtis watches from the corner of his eye as Julien is visibly tense now. But the need to know still sits in his mind. To know what kinds they are, what makes up the figments of Julien’s mind, whether they are benign or malevolent. Occtis is a scientist first, and the all consuming need to find answers never fully goes away, even when it is an objectively stupid idea.
Occtis closes his book again, this time much more carefully and turns to fully look at Julien, “What are they like?”
Julien is incredulous when he looks back, “What?”
“What- What are they like? The things you hear?” Occtis asks again. He can feel his earlier boldness quickly fading, as he repeats himself.
“If you wish to be cruel about it, you will have to try harder than that boy,” Julien says, rolling his eyes.
“No! I’m not trying to be- I am just curious,” Occtis tries to clarify.
Julien’s expression is still guarded as he scrutinizes Occtis, finally after a tense few seconds, he huffs, “Fine, what do you want to know?”
Jumping right in, his first question is eager, both for the distraction from his current state and for the new information, “Is it just auditory, or does it include visual and physical elements as well?”
“Just sounds, though when I was much younger, right after the war, I would see things too,” Julien answers, and Occtis can tell he is purposefully trying to sound bored.
That clarifies, a lot actually. Occtis doubts he could get away with asking Julien all that he wishes at this moment, but the added information of the visual aspects as well as the timeframe gives context for how long Julien has been dealing with it, and possible cause. It’s unlikely that it's magically induced, as the magic required to cause such a thing would be powerful and the type would stay the same. Meaning the cause is likely something psychological. It is not something Occtis can really do anything about, but the fact is welcome regardless.
“What sorts of things do you hear?” Occtis itches to pull out a notebook as he asks, but resists the urge. He is absolutely certain Julien would not appreciate his answers to these sorts of questions being documented.
Julien thinks for a moment, “Mostly benign things. The sound of hooves, a voice calling my name from a distance, the sound of boots. It depends on location. The things I hear while we travel are usually slightly different than what we might hear in a tavern,” he pauses, then continues more hesitantly, “Earlier, it was knocking on the door.”
Julien searches Occtis’s face again, as if expecting to see something at the confession. Whatever judgment he was looking for, he does not find it and his shoulders relax a little bit. Occtis knows these sorts of topics usually make most uncomfortable, but with a combination of his recent undeath removing most innate discomfort, and his own upbringing around the type of things most deem odd, he does not find himself put off at all by the answers. It does start to beg another question though.
“Does anyone else know? In our group or otherwise?” Occtis knows he might be reaching too far with this one.
To his surprise though, Julien does not seem upset at the prodding, "Officially you are the only one in the group to know, though I suspect Bolaire is aware as well. Outside of our companions, my mother and sister are aware, as well as a few friends back at Castle Torch.”
“Is it hard to tell when things are or aren’t real?” Occtis questions, politeness partly forgotten, partly pushed to the side.
Surprising him again, Julien seems to relax more as Occtis does.
“Sometimes. When I am alone it is worse, but in the group I can typically rely on your reactions as well. If no one else seems to hear, then it is not there.”
Occtis’s finger twitches, the urge to write down every piece of information rearing again.
“Are there certain times when it's worse? Or better?” Occtis stops a second, not wanting to seem creepy, but the chance of that passed the day they met, “You didn’t- it didn’t appear that this was bothering you until recently.”
Julien’s eyes widen, then he smirks at Occtis coyly and the wizard is sure if he could still blush he would, “You’ve been watching me, have you? Couldn’t keep your eyes off?”
Occtis sputters at him, “Wha- no! I mean- yes? That’s not the point. Just answer the question!”
The knight laughs heartily, making Occtis more flustered, “Ok, ok. Your observations are correct boy. Sometimes they are completely absent, others they are more frequent. I don’t quite know what causes it, just that it tends to follow my moods. Though may I ask a question in return?”
“I mean, sure. I’ve been bombarding you with them so it’s only fair,” says Occtis, small smile on his lips.
“How often do you watch me to have noticed? Because I know it’s not me being obvious, so…” Julien trails off, still grinning.
“I will have you know, I watch everyone in our group,” Occtis lies, not meeting Julien’s eyes.
Julien hums disbelievingly, “And it has nothing to do with my dashingly good looks?”
“Absolutely not,” Occtis lies again.
Julien smiles again, looking like the cat that got the cream. They settle back into a more comfortable silence again, Occtis’s curiosity temporarily satiated and Julien’s favorite pastime of messing with others also being fulfilled for the night. Picking his novel back up, Occtis finds it much easier to focus, even when he catches Julien shooting a brief glance at the door. The spasms seem to have passed while Occtis was preoccupied with their conversation, and Occtis settles into bed, trying not to think of ways to get Julien to look at him like that again.