| that's the price you pay

[for8000amonth]

▶ WHO: Adelis and you!
▶ WHAT: February Catch-all
▶ WHEN: Until March
▶ WHERE: All over
▶ WARNINGS: Adelis' no good very bad vampirism Canon Update, NSFW (of various flavors), TBA

Comments

SYRLYA

[for8000amonth]

[ There is something wrong.

Painfully, desperately, viscerally. He is used to nightmares, but the flood of images, sensations, sounds and smells and everything seems to never end, punctuated by the fuzz of static. Like...watching a puzzle get put together, and each piece that snaps into place seems to leave you emptier and emptier. The curve of the Labyrinth, the stench of the Mire, the Low Streets and the despairing toll of the Blood Hour, the dizzying excitement and fear of the gala and-

foreign blood in his mouth and icy unease and t̸e̸e̸t̸h̴ ̸t̴e̷e̴t̸h̶ ̶t̸e̷e̵t̵h̶ and he is so cold so angry so empty-

When he wakes, he nearly falls out of bed, cold sweat clinging to every inch of him and the taste of iron on his tongue. He doesn't even register it, too busy frozen for a few good moments as everything sinks into his marrow, something akin to dread worming deep under his oddly still skin before his brain finally catches up.

And when it does, all he can do it choke, before he throws himself to his feet and rips open the door to the bathroom, not caring how it wakes anyone else with the sharp slam of the handle ramming into the wall. No, he's far too busy staring at himself, at the newfound pallor of his skin, the sunken dark circles that seem to be stained around his eyes, the scratched lines up his arms and shadowy stains of his fingers.

A thin line of blood trails out of his nose as he raises a hand, shaking, and runs his fingers over his teeth. The sharpened point of a canine cuts into the flesh. ]

...Fuck. [ It's shaky, unsteady, like he doesn't even know what else he can do or say. ] Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck-

[chronosynthesis]

[A wine bottle and a couple glasses of whiskey deep, Syrlya doesn't care where he ends up sleeping. The couch is far from the most uncomfortable place he's ever had to find rest, and he appreciated Adelis offering to let him just crash here. And sleep claims him quickly, the alcohol holding his limbs down as it muddles his mind, the fog only being slowly replaced with a waking headache.

It's the slam of the door that causes him to start, eyes snapping open and quickly roaming the room for signs of a threat. Another second and then he's pushing himself up, pressing the heel of his hand to his head to stave off the sharp pain that comes from sitting up too fast. Oh, he doesn't feel good.

But there's a sound coming from the bathroom, and as Syrlya creeps closer he can make out the voice swearing.] ... Adelis? Is everything all right?

[for8000amonth]

[ There's a rushing wave of emotions roiling through him right now, a complicated mess of things he shouldn't remember and now he does, all in the course of a single night. It does not help the last thing he remembers hovers at the forefront, a cold sense of helplessness and regret muddling everything else.

He doesn't even hear the other approach in his stupor, staring blankly at his own face as he attempts to pull his thoughts together amidst the downpour of newfound knowledge. And to make matters worse, there's a furious buzzing, like static growing louder and louder in the depths of his skull- ]

...What?

[ Adelis turns only slightly, since he had left the door open, but with no glasses and the agonizing throbbing of his head, it's difficult for him to parse the other man completely. ]

It's- no. I.... [ He doesn't even notice that the stream of blood from his nose gets somewhat heavier, running down his chin and staining the sink red and pink. He feels he should be angrier, but all he feels in the exact moment is a cold, numbing emptiness. Disconnected, in shock, as his fingers tighten on the porcelain edge. ] I-I don't know.

[chronosynthesis]

[Oh. Shock. Blood. Syrlya doesn't even stall in the doorway, moving quickly to enter the bathroom and reaching with gentle hands to try and pry Adelis off the sink.]

Here, you should sit down. [The toilet will make a suitable chair, and Syrlya will aim to guide him towards it.] And we'll get you cleaned up.

[First things first is to stem the bleeding (he's so much more pale than before). The hand towel will do, for now, and when Adelis seems unlikely to teeter over or run off he grabs it and twists the sink on to soak it with cool water. Wring it out, and then slowly offer it towards Adelis' face.]

[for8000amonth]

[ He finds himself flinching, in the slightest, when he's touched- a reaction that confuses him just as much as it makes sense. Of course he wasn't fond of it, when he just...just...a face flashing through his mind sends a surge of hatefearrage and he bites down on his tongue to suppress it.

Regardless, Adelis lets himself be sat down, it helping to ebb the disorienting pounding in his skull. The mat and tile under his feet is a stark contrast to the image of grass and dirt that's most recent in his memory, and he squeezes his eyes shut and gives his head a shake.

It's only when he opens them does he see the cloth being offered up, and there's a few seconds as he stares at it in an attempt to compute the purpose, eerily bright eyes flickering up to Syrlya's features with an unreadable expression before the irony taste hits again. Ah. Right.

It's taken with cold, black-stained fingers and lifts it to his face, slowly scrubbing the blood off his skin with an obvious unsteadiness. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[That flinch causes Syrlya's grip to ease, briefly, but ultimately he keeps firm enough to ensure he can get Adelis steady.

He watches, waiting for a moment to ensure Adelis has the towel to his face. And his hand thus moves to try and rest on Adelis' shoulder, slightly towards the back in case he faints from the loss of blood.]

Adelis. [He speaks a little quieter.] Do you remember how this happened?

[for8000amonth]

[ The hand on his shoulder is...grounding, at least. It keeps him tethered, pulls him back and forces the cogs to start turning again. He pulls the cloth away from his face and stares at the red stains on white, mulling the question over.

Does he remember? Hells sake, he remembers too much. More than he'd like to. Part of him wishes he could go back to not remembering, living in some form of blissful ignorance. Then Adelis wouldn't have to deal with the memories, the furious swirl of feelings, the empty feeling in his stomach he doesn't want to acknowledge- ]

...Yes.

[ It's...raspy. His throat feels dry. Is it from last night, or the vestiges of his time in the dark? He lifts up his arm, drags his dark fingertips over the marks- the scratches, the light imprint of teeth, the faint lines from shackles. Healed, somewhat, but not fully.

He pulls them away as his head throbs again, and resists the urge to groan. ]

Where are my- [ Ugh. A surge of nausea hits, but he swallows it down. ] Where did I leave my fucking glasses.

[ He needs to...focus on something else. Just a little, in an attempt to keep himself together. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya's gaze settles on those wounds for far too long, marks that he knows were not there just last night, when he'd gripped Adelis' hand across the table. But no one could have possible done this simply overnight while they were asleep...

He snaps his gaze up, back to Adelis' face.] They are likely in your room. I'll get them for you.

[His hand slowly slides away as he takes a step back, and turns to hurry out the bathroom and down the hall to Adelis' room. He assumes he'll find them on an end table, or in a drawer. He won't linger any longer than it takes to locate them.]

[ a disturbance in the blood senses ]

[bluminescence]

[ When Thyra had arrived, the sense had been immediate. A part of him that felt missing was suddenly there again, and he believed it without hesitation even before he saw her. Like the comfort of sensing his hidden daggers, his pistol, or even his bullets. But not knowing where they are, or if they're being taken care of would be a minor torture. He can't feel the finer details from this distance.

This time feels different. This is the vague stirring of a long forgotten piece, a constant tugging when he reaches out for it. He remembers her from his school days. And now he can't ignore her. A curiosity, a concern, leads him to follow it alone a few days into its presence on the island.

Meandering, a game of hot and cold accidentally disguised as his usual habit of being easily distracted by nature. At least, until he's narrowing in on his old rifle's location quietly. The closer he gets, the more he can feel of the state of her.

His holster is in place and Kaspar is back wearing his military trousers and leathers. Half the outfit he'd worn the first time they'd met. ]

[for8000amonth]

[ He really hadn't known what to do with the...thing that had appeared in their house.

A gun? Of some kind? He is only used to the occasional, fleeting glimpses of pepperboxes and such, the mechanical constructs of firearms more something you would find across the Ostoyan border in the more intellectually inclined Raevo. Ryuki denies it is his, and with little interest in such a thing himself, Adelis tucks it away...until he figures out what to do with it, anyway.

It is crisp, the fall weather, but it is far more the clime he is used to. So here Adelis is, outside, planting regardless. Despite everything, he is far more covered up than usual, hair tied and only pushing his black sleeves up to his elbows as he works. The black circles around his eyes are stark against the white pallor of his skin, paler than the other would remember, but it doesn't seem to deter him any.

For a moment, he presumes the other is only passing by, and barely spares more of a glance...until he realizes he is lingering far more than expected. And so Adelis pushes himself up, blue gaze flickering to the taller man fully.

Hm. It's been a while since they've spoken, hasn't it. ]

Kaspar. [ He brushes a bit of dirt off his gloves. ] Going for an afternoon walk, or looking for something?

[bluminescence]

[ Kaspar isn't surprised to be caught. He isn't exactly a fan of skulking about for more than foraging or figuring out new sights. And once Adelis addresses him, once Kaspar turns fully in the other man's direction, he feels her. Untouched. Cold.

He wanders up, a friendly distance between them until he spies the circles under his eyes and the work being put in. Kaspar is distracted from his quest by it and lulled by proximity to her. A couple steps closer, Kaspar squats in front of him. Arms crossed on his knees, he offers-- ]

... want a little help? Or a break?

[for8000amonth]

[ Quiet, as usual. While they've seen each other in passing, he hasn't quite held a conversation with him since quite a while back- but he does not forget easily. He is...a hard man to read, Adelis believes, but not in the bad way. It's why he doesn't mind when the other steps closer, shifting up blue eyes to watch as he squats down near the soil with that ghost of a whisper soon following. ]

...I've no need of help. I prefer the work.

[ It distracts him, gives him something to do. As a previous workaholic, too much free time makes him a little stir crazy, and while it certainly isn't his usual profession, it's still something. Still, he has been out here for a while...and while fully capable of it, there's no need to continue a conversation here. He picks up the basket full of seeds, not entirely emptied, before idly gesturing to the door. ]

But I suppose I could do with a break, since it seems you've come here for something in particular. [ What, he cannot tell, but he's far more observant than most. ] Unless, naturally, I'm mistaken?

[ He doubts he is, but you never know- ]

[bluminescence]

[ Kaspar smiles at him as he stands, letting his hands fall to clasp behind his back. His also understand preferring having something to occupy them. Being around Adelis again during sunlit hours, in more than just passing, has the warmth of familiarity returning. He doesn't miss being so much taller than everyone around him, but it is a familiar vantage point now that he's no longer squatting. All of that is enough for Kaspar to be sure this will all work out.

He shakes his head. No, Adelis is not mistaken. But he attempts to clarify a beat later. Well, sort of. ]

I have.

[ Kaspar will follow him wherever, quietly hoping to spy his rifle. Or perhaps to see if there is any tea at hand. His drifting gaze is nothing new, whther he makes it over the threshold or behind Adelis or not. ]

[for8000amonth]

[ It's been a while since he's had anybody who wasn't Syrlya over. It's an unexpected visit, certainly, but not one he's ready to complain about- it's not like he isn't nearly finished, and it's better than some company around here.

...That, and it's a good distraction for his thoughts. They have been far too busy, lately.

The inside of the house is incredibly clean, and whilst not incredibly decorated, it's...somewhat homey, at least. Adelis leads him to the kitchen, but there are no guns anywhere that Kaspar can see. ]

Sit wherever suits you. [ A vague gesture to the table. There's a pause as he reaches for the cupboard, staring at his dirty gloves for a brief moment, before he sighs and peels them off to put them aside- exposing fingers stained a deep gradient of inky black, which then proceed to go back to business and open it to tug down both a kettle and a box. ] Tea is fine, I take it. I've little else, unless coffee is more to your taste.

[ A generous person he is not, but he won't be known as a shit host. He was going to make some, anyway. Besides, since Kaspar confirmed his suspicions, better they sit before he speaks on whatever he's come here for. ]

[bluminescence]

[ Kaspar makes his way slowly as he is prone to, pleased with seeing a new place. It I'd always delightfully strange to see how different places can look without strict rules. There is no judgment in his wandering gaze. No disappointment either, when he doesn't spy his old rifle. Quietly distracted by the homey touches, he follows Adelis until the gesture guides his glance towards the table. But he lingers a beat before responding. ]

It is.

[ A simple answer if his host doesn't look over for his nod. Or his eyes following the box and kettle. Right, Adelis wanted things to do with his hands. And the circles, the tiredness, say he probably needs it more than Kaspar does.

So, he finally finds a seat at the table and relaxes into it. ]

APPRECIATION GIFTS

[for8000amonth]

SYRLYA

[for8000amonth]

[ There will be a box on Syrlya's doorstep one day, when he's the only one home- small, a plain black, capable of fitting in his palm with little fanfare. Popping off the lid will reveal a small bracelet nestled inside, a plain silver circle of leaves, but the one in the center is a bright blue sapphire. Somebody has also, evidently, gone to the blacksmith.

Folded carefully in the side of the box, a dozen times, is a small letter.

Regardless of our relationship, I cannot let deeds done for me go unbalanced. For everything you have done to assist me thus far, consider this me paying it back.

-Adelis.

ELLIS

[for8000amonth]

[ Ellis will hear a knock on his door sometime in the evening, and open it to a small bag hanging from his doorknob. It's still warm, so whoever was there dropped it off and left quickly, but there's no evidence anybody was around- not even footprints in the dirt.

Inside the bag of a container bread pudding, and a neatly folded note.

Recompense for both your assistance earlier and what you've been sending me. I don't tend to let favors go unpaid, so you may consider our scales balanced for the time being.

Keep the container. I've little need of it.

-Adelis

Mishka; backdated to Fall 21st

[for8000amonth]

[ The weather gets colder the closer to the end of the month they get, and his curse, he finds, does him no favors. Whilst he is cold enough now that it hardly bothers him, the integrity of his body is a whole other story, and so perhaps he ends up sticking closer to Mishka on their trip over than he normally would.

He has indulged more than he normally would, as well, he finds. Perhaps it is the time hanging over their heads like a guillotine, threatening to fall at any time, or perhaps it is something else. Either way, whilst he has not completely forgiven the elder man for the cut of his actions and words, he finds himself less...angry. The feeling still hangs heavy and uncomfortably in his stomach, but it has shifted and settled, now that it has had time. The sea breeze adds an extra layer of chill, and he shifts from where he's setting up as he tugs the collar of his sweater a bit further up.

Naturally, this task in particular falls to him- seeing as how a certain somebody else has trouble with it. ]

Are you able to hand me the tinderbox, or are you liable to burst into flames?

[ ...Just because he's being more indulgent doesn't make Adelis any less of a thorny mess, of course. That, Mishka will never be spared of. ]

[yourlenore]

( Mishka, not at all reliable for the fire, has set about working on pitching the tents and setting up their accommodations. This he pays particular mind to, because this is one of few times he's had the luxury of creating a tent that's actually comfortable, and he does want Adelis to rest easy, where he doesn't usually.

He's straightening the lay of the tent on the poles when Adelis asks, and to this he grins. )

The tinderbox is in one of my pockets, I'm afraid. You'll have to come fetch it from me directly.

( Is he flirting? Yes. He's not got a lot of time left, and he knows it weighs strangely on Adelis, and it weighs strangely on himself, too. With the floodgates broken, he just wants to make best use of his time. )

[for8000amonth]

[ Considering most 'camping' trips have been nothing but bedrolls and campfire, and perhaps a steady perimeter of traps- this feels nigh luxurious in comparison. Most things around here are, really, but it's easier to notice when it's just the two of them.

Especially when it's just the two of them. It feels surreal, after all his memories came back, to picture they'd be here right now- but here they are, on an island, setting up a bloody weekend camping trip with the afternoon sun in the sky. None of these are things that they would have had, had they never came here.

He could do without the bullshittery, however.

Adelis' gaze narrows at that, an aggravated click of the tongue following. ]

And yet your hands seem to be in perfect working order?

[ Fucker. Regardless, he grumbles as he gets to feet, sauntering over until he stops in front of him and their little tent project, splaying out his hand as he leans over. The soft ruby red of his earring glints in the light. ]

Hand it over, you git.

[yourlenore]

They're preoccupied.

( He's making sure the tent won't collapse on them. Very important, very occupied, can't help you, sorry.

But it does bait Adelis into getting closer to him, and his gaze crosses the earring's shine before it reaches Adelis's face, and his smile curls his lips. Adelis's hand out, he takes it in his own to place it against some satchel or another around the side or back of Mishka's belt— pulling Adelis up against him, his other arm wrapping around him comfortably. )

See?

( Mishka thinks he's so cute. Though his hold hardly seems oppressive at first, he won't let Adelis pull free if he tries. )

I think it's in one of these pockets, but you'll have to check.

[for8000amonth]

[ Preoccupied, he says.

Certainly, he's doing something, but he's skilled enough to manage it- but he doesn't know why he was expecting anything less, really. He's still glaring down with narrowed eyes as that hand slips into his own, Mishka's far warmer skin brushing the cold of his own, pulling his blackened fingers down towards the satchel attached to the back of his belt-

But then Adelis finds them flush, arm sliding around the curve of his back, and he tenses up before making an aggravated noise in the back of his throat. His free hand presses flat to Mishka's chest, gaze sharp to divert from the reddening tint of his ears. He's gotten bloody shameless lately, much to Adelis' chagrin. ]

If I had wanted to just take it from you, I'd have just pickpocketed your handsy arse.

[ UNIMPRESSED!! And mildly embarrassed. But regardless, he keeps strict eye contact as he lets his fingers delve down into said satchel, looking for that stupid tinderbox. If he wants better from him, he'll have to try harder. ]

[yourlenore]

( Mishka's slipped the tinderbox into a smaller fabric drawstring bag, and then put it in one of his back satchels, to disguise the texture and shape and make it a bit trickier for Adelis to feel out :) There's also a lot of random things in the satchels right not, but not that much that's useful. Just as a fun challenge! )

Do you think it'll be that easy?

( He speaks against his head, closer to his ear as he caresses the side of his face with one hand and tilts his ear up, and the other hand, at his back, works its way lower, fingers curling under the hem and layers and palm brushing warm against the skin there. )

If you leave me to my own devices, who knows what I'll do?

[for8000amonth]

[ Are you for real. A cursory sweep, and he can already feel he's in for a bad time(tm). After finding nothing similar after a brief moment, there's an experimental brush of his hand that tells him yeah, there's more then one back here. He really did that.

There was also a suspiciously shaped bottle in there, but he's just not going to address that right now.

The voice so close to his ear has him growing taut for a moment, fingers skimming his face, before the hand that dips below the hem of his sweater earns a hiss through his teeth. It's warm, yes, and he won't deny it...feels alright, begrudgingly, but also? He's petty. ]

You don't need to be left to your own devices to be insufferable.

[ To the next satchel, then, filled with more useless junk- a bell? And is that a pen? For fuck's sake. His other hand coils in Mishka's shirt as he glares further, very much deciding to act like the touch is not distracting him. ]