magicalglowstick | Ryslig Inbox

[Fenris was right in the middle of closing his laptop and removing himself from his nest of blankets and stuffed mabari in the corner when Rafe ascends the stairs. Like a teenager caught trying to sneak out before they can even make a move he rolls his eyes and huffs out a sigh, knowing full well how ridiculous he's being, to be completely honest.]

The plan as changed, [he offers simply.] I must check on Javert.

Oh, you must.

[ One moment, opening his computer again to read: ]

"Why would you go alone?"

That was different.

[Because it's not important what happens to him.]

If his mind is not his own then I can't stand by and do nothing.

[ Yes. So clearly different — because it's about Fenris instead of Rafe, because Fenris is so much more capable and thus would be fine as a solo act but Rafe needs babysitting? Is that it? ]

...Uh huh. So then clearly the option is to stand next to him and do... [ He pauses, waiting for Fenris to tell him what exactly he plans on attempting in this bullshit crazy scheme. ] What, exactly? Scowl him back to sanity?

[Fenris scoffs, turning to face the nearest window with his arms crossed.]

Don't be foolish. I would do whatever must be done. But I would need to see him first to know what that is.

[He pauses, knowing that doesn't exactly answer anything.]

If something took his mind and body as I suspect then there is one mercy I can grant him.

[ Yeah, sulk harder. Maybe that'll find you a leg to stand on. ]

So you're going to go over there and if in your infinite wisdom of dealing with weird shit you can't find anything else, you'll stab him. [ Snapping his laptop shut again. ] Solid idea there, partner.

[Fenris huffs indignantly — and for a moment he could swear that the flow of air leaving his nostrils left them burning slightly.]

That is not what I'm saying at all. I'm going over there to assess the situation and if he becomes dangerous only then will I do what needs to be done.

If not, then perhaps I can talk him back from this madness.

And if you get caught up? Who's going to talk you back?

[ Do not count on him leaving this house and getting drunk on whatever's out there in the air. ]

Way a partnership works, in case you're forgetting? Needs two heads sticking together on a goddamn plan rather than splitting up to do some stupid shit. Like this.

[Of course he doesn't have an answer for that, solely reacting on his first instinct which is to act. That being said, while his hackles are definitely raised and where he looked about ready to charge past Rafe any moment, his posture deflates in defeat.

The more he thinks on it the more he's ashamed that he was going to blatantly disregard Rafe's objection to his plan.]

I...fine then.

Thank you.

[ And a modicum of tension uncoils from round his shoulders, as he tucks the laptop under an arm and leans a hip against the bannister of the stair. ]

Was honestly concerned you wouldn't see sense and then. [ A shrug. ] Pretty obvious by now that if you wanted to bull through, it's not like I could hold you back.

[ Other than death and darkness, Rafe still looks more or less himself even as his skin peels away in sections. Meanwhile Fenris has gone from twink to a fucking linebacker, muscles packed onto a frame that now demands he look up a few inches to have any kind of conversation. ]

I wouldn't have.

[He admits quietly, moving over to the corner covered with various sheets and pillows (and his stuffed mabari). His claws paw and grab at whatever's in his way until he makes a hole of comfort right in the middle to settle himself down in. At this point he doesn't even realize he does it.]

I...will try not to be so rash in the future.

Would appreciate that. You may be the obvious brawn now but it'd be a real hassle to gain that at the cost of the brain you brought into this.

[ It's kind of a compliment. Maybe. He observes the nesting with a skeptical eyebrow before exhaling sharply through his nose— Or meant to, anyway. He'd forgotten to inhale so there's nothing doing with it.

It's happening more and more often these days.

He chooses not to think about that. ]

We really have to get you a bed.

[It's weird. Part of him wants to take it as a compliment — that he even has a mind of his own, let alone one that Rafe values. But the other part of him feels a creeping shame about it. About the fact that he dares feel pride for thinking without his master.

His little nest of pillows and cloth is set just so, even if it doesn't look it, so after his initial working with his claws he's able to settle with ease, his back against the wall in which he has more padding set up.]

I see no reason to. It is quite comfortable.

[And given that he's far used to sleeping in worse conditions (save for the ten years he spent in a nice bed, even if said bed was in a mansion full of dead bodies and demons at some point), he doesn't find anything odd about his choice of comfort.

Or maybe it's more accurate to say he's ignoring it.]

[ A perfectly fine house of denial. Everything's good here, everybody's totally fine with what they're turning into. ]

Suppose it follows then that you also don't see how the whole rest of this house is starting to get like a hoarder's wet dream.

[ He gets it, it's probably some other part of their particular monster thing (or at least he really fucking hopes it is rather than just a baseline trait) but it's getting to be an awful clutter and Rafe's really starting to get peeved. It's a better, more actionable peeve to focus on than everything else going on outside their door and within themselves. ]

A bed, and some storage.

[Fenris takes a look around his space at Rafe's accusation, ready to be offended. Except he isn't wrong. Even beside his "bed" there are piles of stuff that he hasn't sorted, and the piles he has sorted still clutter the area. Empty bottles of varying colors, metallic buttons and candleholders, pieces of metal that likely belonged to broken technology that he doesn't understand.

He barely fights back a wince. When did this habit get so out of control? When did he even acquire this habit?]

I...[Oh he sees it. He sees it and he's a bit peeved at Rafe for pointing it out so that he couldn't continue to ignore it.

He sighs.] Right...

Yeah.

[ Said to the tune of no shit, but if there's anyone on this peninsula he can temper his sarcasm for and who deserves the effort, it's the elf who's saved his ass more than once.

An elf who also tried to drunkenly make out with him a couple weeks ago— But that's besides the point. Rafe caught him before he could and nothing's been said about the matter since. He'd almost asked the next day whether or not Fenris even remembered that night but...he's refrained. Either he had which was its own luck and thus would've only invited questions, or he hadn't and was acting like had in which case asking would be pointing straight at the eight-hundred-pound lizard in the room. ]

Can go shopping or something after all this dies down. Not like we're paying rent here.

[Fenris definitely remembers. It's part of why he doesn't give too much of a fuss about his sleeping arrangement, or why he doesn't fight to continue ignoring his hoarding. The last thing he wants to do is become a burden. It didn't work so well for him last time and he's not going to go down that road with Rafe. He's lucky he's even talking to him after what he tried to do at the party. He doesn't want to be a mistake.]

To be honest, I'm not sure I would find a regular bed much comfort anymore.

[The idea of a pile of soft things seems way more appealing.]

But you are right about the storage. I hadn't realized how out of hand it has become. I'm sorry.

I'm sure there's got to be beds made to satisfy.... slightly transformed tastes.

[ Can't hurt to go looking as opposed to this nest with zero lumbar support which will eventually fuck with his back. ]

Look, you don't have to apologize for it. No harm, no foul. [ Totally talking about the imitation magpie act. Yep. ] Just— Something to fix for the future.

I suspect there are a lot of things that need fixing for the future.

[He's not sure what changes, psychologically speaking, that Rafe may be dealing with at the moment, but whatever they may be he's handling them well. To Fenris, Rafe still remains the same as he had been when they met on Brasa. Obviously not physically, but that matters very little, if at all. But himself?

Not much to say on that aside from he knows he's not handling it as well as he should be.]

I'll try my best.

[Definitely not talking about any one specific thing. Nope.]

[ Damn it, it'd have been such a cakewalk to not talk about this. Really, it would've been. But Fenris makes it clear in his tone and his everything else that they're talking around what they're talking around, and that he's set to beat himself up about it same as all the other bullshit that's happened to him that he's told Rafe about. And Rafe's told him where the blame laid with that other, so he can do the same here.

Maybe it'll be easier for Fenris to acknowledge Pink Fuck's effects than Hawke's. Lord knows it can't be harder. Right? ]

Christ on a cracker. [ Pinching the bridge of his nose, he inhales purposefully. ] No, there's not a lot. Hoarding whatever stuff you want is fine, all it needs are some boxes or bins or whatever.

[ His hand drops, by habit going to his hip — where there might've been a holster and a pistol before, now there's a pair of gauntlets clipped to his belt for easy access if he should leave the house. ]

The only time you've shown any lapse in judgment was when you were well out your mind on horse tranquilizers which— newsflash? —is the norm when on horse tranquilizers. I get you're freaked by what could've happened but the fact remains that it didn't so. You're fine. Relax.

[Fenris glances over at Rafe, surprised and mildly alarmed, clearly happy to continue to dance around the subject until he got his apology and promise to do better out in the open.]

I am not freaked out. If anyone should be it's you. The way I behaved towards you was unacceptable and foolish. I was well enough aware of my own actions that I should have ceased immediately.

Trust me, I'm freaked enough checking the mirror every morning.

[ The bitterness slips out in a mutter before Rafe can stop himself, self-loathing in every syllable before he shakes his head. Not the time or place— The both of them are full aware of what he is now, they don't need to revisit the disgusting fact of it. He sets his jaw and then continues. ]

Foolish? Yeah, but you "ceased" before you actually tongued a corpse so just focus on the relief there rather than... The rest. That's the important part.

[It takes Fenris a moment before he realizes while they are talking about the same thing, they're still not completely on the same page. Fenris is trying to focus on the fact that in a drunken and drugged up stupor he tried to stick his disgusting tongue down Rafe's throat twice, but Rafe seems to be focused on...some relief that Fenris should be feeling for not having done it?

The blue scales of his brow line knit together in confusion.]

It's not about me, Rafe. It's about how uncomfortable I surely made you feel. I let my own desires crowd my judgement — that horrendous pink drink had little to do with it.

I'm trying to assure you that you won't have to worry about it again. I will control myself around you.

[Glossing over the way Rafe casually and bitterly refers to himself as a corpse because that has nothing to do with anything. It's not something Fenris even considers, which should probably be odd, but it's not. It's just how it is. Rafe is Rafe. He's not a corpse.]

Fen. The hell are you talking about. [ Waving a hand as if to clear the confusion from the air, his voice is flat with incomprehension, fully unable to wrap his head around what he's hearing. First and foremost, though— ] I don't get uncomfortable with making out.

[ Physicality is nothing new, hasn't been since the locker rooms of boarding schools who took in more in tuition than some national GNPs, had grown into something Rafe always took for granted. If he'd an interest, he'd express it to the fullest extent it was reciprocated and it most often was— But that was before, in a body he'd worked hard to build and sculpt and maintain to its best condition. Not in this warped mockery of what he used to be, skin literally falling off after rotting away. Of course Rafe is sure that there would've still been some determined souls willing to put up with that back home, desire for his money and his name outweighing the revulsion, but there's no such carrot here that could make up for the stick they'd get.

And yet here's Fenris talking out of his ass as if the pink-shaded beer goggles (ketamine goggles? whatever) weren't even a factor. Which...again. The hell is he talking about. ]

There's nothing to control.

Of course there is.

[Rafe makes a frustrated noise, which almost sounds like it has a hiss to it, but that's something he entirely chooses to ignore.]

You're — fasta vass — [He can't believe he's going to have to say all of this, because obviously he hasn't been making himself clear enough for this entire conversation.] Those things I said to you when I was acting like a drunken fool...that all came from me. I meant every word. There is a reason I followed you back on Brasa, and why I continue to stick by you. I admire your intelligence, your brevity, your—

[He's doing it again. Or, he's liable to start doing it again if he goes on another tirade on why Rafe is deserving of a partner far better than the one he ended up with.]

Qualities that I find quite attractive. And when I acted on this attraction not once but twice I made a fool of myself. I'm turning into a scalely monstrosity, and I've been surely acting the part as well...for all I know in a month's time I will be nothing more than a mindless beast.

And you've not only remained yourself, but patient with my...with me.

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, SHARTAN. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 * SHARTAN has joined 018.07.154.55 <SHARTAN>** speak

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cw: past drug use

cw: past drug use

cw: past drug use

cw: past drug use

cw: past drug use, body dysmorphia, skin shedding

cw: past drug use, body dysmorphia