🌳 trahearne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pactmarshal) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crescentview2023-03-02 09:14 pm
pactmarshal) wrote in crescentview2023-03-02 09:14 pm
🌲 winter catchall 🌲
❄️ WHO: Trahearne & u baby!
❄️ WHAT: closed starters for winter
❄️ WHEN: all throughout winter
❄️ WHERE: all over the island
❄️ WARNINGS: to be added in thread headers (definitely nsfw)
❄️ WHAT: closed starters for winter
❄️ WHEN: all throughout winter
❄️ WHERE: all over the island
❄️ WARNINGS: to be added in thread headers (definitely nsfw)
no subject
Still, he does consider himself rather insightful, so he sticks a sour look on his face as per usual. He's definitely not slick. Would be he had more time to pay attention rather than dealing with his oversized bog dog.
There is a tense quiet as Syrlya speaks, finding that odd feeling in the back of his head roiling louder the more he goes on in his usual way, speaking of him with a fondness he's not quite used to hearing. Adelis feels the urge to look away again, to try and stamp it out and focus, but it feels like it would be a disservice when he's giving him all of his attention already.
There's a beat before he opens his mouth. ]
...Something for you to consider, then, for the future. [ Even if he won't outright admit it in such terms. He absentmindedly twirls a piece of hair around his finger, giving it a sharp tug. ] Normally, I would charge you due recompense. But just this once, I'll make an exception....if it makes you as happy as you say.
[ The tips of his ears are tinted a faint shade of pink, pallor of his skin getting paler without anybody to touch. You can chalk it up to the embarrassment of speaking of emotions publicly, however.
Unless?]...But you've much time to make up for. I suggest you don't forget that.
no subject
He smiles warmly, finally with enough strength for it to be genuine.] It would make me very happy.
[He never wanted to lose a friend. Absently, he twists his hand over his arm--loosening the silver bracelet from higher up and letting it fall back down into view against his wrist. That was getting kind of uncomfortable anyway. He chuckles.] I understand. I won't forget what I owe you, then, as you've been so generous in your forgiveness.
[A little tease.. There's a buzz of happiness within him, though he diverts his attention to Trahearne, considering his reaction... er, if he was even paying attention.]
no subject
Is he not taking it well?
Perhaps not. That's the conclusion the others have come to, after all.
But he folds to contain himself. There is--too much happening in his heart and in his mind; had he not given himself these moments to calm himself, find composure, he most certainly would have fallen apart in front of the others, and he doesn't want that. He is, if anything, determined to see that his composure remains in tact for this talk, lest he give into more impulsive, emotional reactions. He doesn't want that, either. For the time being, he is content to let the others talk amongst themselves, clear up the air betwen them, mend bridges, while he listens (where their thoughts end and physical voices begin is a line he has trouble distinguishing, though).
Syrlya's words are calming, in that special way he knows they are, the way he knows, in theory, in conjecture, that has united Tyria. He speaks in a measured tone, but in a way Trahearne knows comes from the heart. Even if he is not the one being spoken to, it helps him all the same. "I am sure it is no reflection on how he feels about Adelis any more than my feelings for Adelis are a reflection of those for Trahearne." Some of the awkward edges in him soften; perhaps there was some part of him that needed to hear that from Syrlya, in that tone.
He is surprised, a little, to learn that Mishka and Adelis mirror him and Syrlya. It can't be a concidence, at this point.
When he at last sits up and sits back, there's distress on his face. His eyes seem tired--he had shed a tear or two while his face was covered, not that anyone knew or could tell, purely out of the shock of emotion--and they first settle on Syrlya. A hand gently rests on his back, and the corner of his mouth curls lightly upward as he feels that buzz of happiness. Good, as though he seems to say. I'm glad you've made up.
His eyes then drift to Adelis, and settle on him for a moment. He hears every passing thought of insecurity, of slight jealousy. Why be jealous of Trahearne at all? Trahearne thinks himself nothing special--not here, not now. Adelis has a spark to him he can understand the other two might find appealing. In contrast, Trahearne is little more than a dark cloud that hangs in the corners, that surrounds himself with death; if anything, Trahearne should think himself lucky that not one, but two??? people have affections for him.
He finds this hard to understand. Adelis, at least, is much more attractive than him.
But that isn't the true source of Adelis's ire. And so his attention shifts; instead of looking to Mishka, his eyes drop. When he finally speaks up, his voice is quiet. ]
It's not...terrible. [ His tone is little more than a mutter. At least, he thinks that's what Adelis said. He heard Mishka's resignation, he heard Adelis's displeasure, he felt Syrlya's sympathy for Mishka. Is that what this seems like? That he thinks another's feelings for him terrible? ]
When we first met, you remarked how lovely of a thing it must be, to be loved by me. [ Trahearne stares at his open palms, rings glinting faintly in the light. ] I did not understand what you meant. To be honest, I...am still not sure what that means, entirely.
[ Because what does he give that no one else already gives? He finds that hard to wrap his head around. ]
But... It was not long ago, as you fussed over me when I inhabited Adelis's body that I thought...what a lovely thing it is, to be loved by you. The thought caused such an ugly feeling to rear its head in my heart, and I realised that was because I was--
[ Jealous.
Trahearne purses his lips, guilt and heartache tearing him apart from the inside. He hates feeling like this, especially considering his reaction when he found out about Syrlya's crush. (Is this a crush? He knows what a crush feels like, as this is not his first in Crescentview; this feels so much more...significant than that.) He most certainly is the biggest hypocrite in this room. If Syrlya is angry at him for this, then it is well-deserved.
He sighs, his breath shaky. ]
Needless to say, Mishka, the feeling...
[ At last, his eyes turn upward to the other man, amber fixing on him with the studious intensity only Trahearne can produce. ]
...is mutual.
1/
It's just as well, though, that he has this break, because Syrlya's voice echoes when he speaks, but the words come out strange. They're not the things he says with his lips, but his voices compliments his dialogue with insight; and then again, Adelis's voice echoes when he speaks, and suggests the same.
For the first several moments of this spontaneous telepathy (thanks, Goddess), he thinks he must not have been as immune to his hallucinogens as he expected himself to be (don't ask about his diet after the whole beast thing). But the echoes make too much sense; they follow the conversation correctly, and compliment the expressions well.
His look of unhappy tolerance toward his whole situation with Trahearne turns into one of perplexed uncertainty as he observes the conversation as a whole as he begins to understand. Ellis has experienced this; he knows this intimately. Mind reading, really? He gazes at Adelis as his exchange with Syrlya continues, not missing the relieving thoughts that argue for jealousy, not disinterest, in tandem with Adelis's case about the Fall and the stark difference between him and Trahearne— but this is soon eclipsed by the thrum of feeling he thinks he knows the tune of in Adelis's head, the flush and fluster recognizable.
Mishka may not be introspective, and Adelis may not have the words for it yet, but jealousy knows when to recognize the spectre of a threat.
Then, Trahearne speaks. )
2/2
But Trahearne's answer this time is terribly clear, and in a minute he will understand why Trahearne reacted the way he did when Mishka confessed nearly outright.
But we are not a minute in yet. Mishka is in the here and now, and he has stumbled to a full stop, eyes wide and lips slightly parting. There are implications here and complications to consider, but he's not having any of that.
There's no thoughts here, because this was so far out of the realm of possibility he can't be in anything but shock; there's just a deep sort of blush that sears his skin along the neck and the shoulders, and only barely the far edges of his cheeks— entirely missable, but apparent here.
It's certainly not a look anyone but Trahearne's been privy to before. )
... I'm... sorry?
no subject
They are supposed to be honest though, right? The truth of all those interactions, their history is suddenly ripped open at the seams, laying bare its contents for Trahearne to see. There isn't anything left for him to question. He understands now.
The containment around his feelings shatter, and Trahearne tenses. There's a whorl of guilt and regret that swirls inside of him, growing bigger than his comparatively larger frame can handle. It manifests as a wave of unease, of anxiety, of the intense desire to take everything back; his hands on his lap ball into tight fists. ]
I--I did not understand what these feelings were, and I was content to simply file them away as our...dynamic. We are marrying the loves of our lives, and so I did not care to analyse them further.
[ Trahearne's eyes dart to the side, at Syrlya, expression riddled with guilt. He holds his gaze there for a moment, as though asking for forgiveness, before he drops it again to his balled fists. ]
I had no idea that was how you felt about me. I almost don't believe it. But now that you tell me this, I...
[ His expression twists again; it feels like his chest is being ripped in two--not along his scar, not the way it feels when he pines for Syrlya, but as a clean cut down his chest, like Mishka is surgically taking him apart--and the conflict in him settles in his eyes.
He looks up at Mishka again. ]
...I realise, now, it is because I've fallen for you.
[ How hard, he isn't sure he wants to find out. ]
no subject
There are technicalities he could pause for (was it all sudden, just because of that bit with Adelis? Had it roots from something earlier on, the way Trahearne now, with his wet-eyed, guilty gaze, reminds him of when they first formally met?), but he does not, though he wonders them. He hesitates instead, as is rare for him, and he sets his fingers along the back of his neck, where he feels the imprint of his branded collar.
There is this much richness in his life now, that he had not once ever conceived of before. For better, or worse.
He sucks in a breath, and attempts to find composure, instead of settling into the consuming greed he tends to find when he's faced with a thing he wants. )
... I suppose, then, we are of the same mind. ( That they were marrying others, for whom they feel a particular magnitude greater; that they intended to leave things be. But, ) I had not believed it myself, until it was insisted to me. And I've known you to want Syrlya more than anything.
( But,
To continue seems unwise, because they are to be wed, and they are content with their matching. They would have to leave this be, one would assume— part gracefully as they could,
but,
he looks toward Adelis, toward whom he feels no guilt because he knows acutely the destructive intensity of his own feelings, and his only task is generally to prove it, after how firmly he's denied it. )
... I think Adelis has something he ought acknowledge about Syrlya, if we are to keep this conversation fair.
( He needs a second to process, and he needs permission from Syrlya and Adelis on how he can respond, because a mutual confession between two taken individuals is sticky.
But Also,
He wants to know if his jealousy has latched onto ghosts, or if there's something real. )
no subject
not
how he expected things to go. He pretty much just sits there in shock, staring between Trahearne and Mishka as his brain catches up to the confession Trahearne just threw out. When did that happen? Not at Karaoke? Or did those lines only form once there was some awareness, however subconscious?
At least, Trahearne won't sense to anger boiling. Neither will hear jealous or angry thoughts (even if he is a hypocrite). Just a lot of huh? Huh? HUH?
Fallen for him? Syrlya would say he loves Adelis, yes, but as a friend. His romantic fancy hasn't run that deep (he wouldn't let it). They really were much closer than he realized. How did he miss it?
Mishka directs the conversation back to Adelis, and Syrlya finally snaps out of his surprise. He shuts his mouth with a clack of his teeth and looks at Adelis, bewildered. He has absolutely no guess as to what Mishka is referring to.]
1/2
...If it was before the beach, he may have to stab Mishka later. Just a little bit. Less from jealousy and more from the audacity.'Fallen for him' is a big leap from 'having a fancy'. Maybe he had the slightest suspicions during the bodyswap, but you know, not to this extent.
And then Mishka turns around and speaks to him, and he finds himself freezing in disbelief.
What. What? ]
...What the hells are you talking about.
[ His gaze jumps from Mishka to Syrlya, utterly bewildered, trying to ignore the way the tint crawls further down his ears. He doesn't- he doesn't have feelings for Syrlya. Is that what he's implying? Is that what he thinks? Certainly, he had gotten...quieter, and more withdrawn when they had stopped talking, but considering he had few other people he talked to frequently, that was normal. As was missing him, loathe as he is to admit it.
And it's not like the way Syrlya speaks to him and compliments him is romantic in nature, nor does it make something odd and heavy settle in his chest when he thinks about it, especially with the knowledge of how the other man felt towards him-
Oh.
His jaw snaps shut, staringly blankly for a few moments as things slowly seem to slot into place. This isn't right. He's not- he doesn't get attached or fall for people that easily. Syrlya had been by his side the whole time, unfailingly, during the conflict in Fall, but....
Fuck. ]
I- [ And then he goes quiet, visibly struggling for a moment to try and parse what he's trying to say. Being able to handle people in one thing, but having a live bloody audience to people hearing his feelings is making him twitch, fingers digging into his arm. ] Perhaps, if anything, I...found myself missing more than just his presence. [ Maybe he had gotten to used to the sensation of his hand in his, of listening to him talk and how at ease he felt despite their casual jabs here and there. It's appalling to think about. ] It was entirely unintended, and it's not as if I expected it to become much-
[ Ugh, this would be a lot easier if his eyes weren't blurry. ]
2/2
Adelis blinks, then blinks again, staring down once it clears for a moment as he realizes something is dripping on his clothes. Clear, like water, and yet the ceiling is fine? It takes another moment to realize his face is wet, and then he slowly lifts a hand to his face, pulling the stained fingertips back to stare blankly at the wetness that comes with it.
Is this...is he.... ]
What-?
[ Adelis' voice cracks, to his utter horror, the odd sensation of his throat tightening only making the widening of his eyes worse as he realizes he's...crying. Actually, legitimately crying. For no reason. He hasn't cried in nearly a bloody decade.
He quickly raises a hand to rapidly wipe at his face, feeling a mortified flush crawl down to his cheeks, bewilderment clear in his hastily reddening eyes as the tears just keep pouring down his cheeks. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck-]
no subject
The tentative web he had so carefully woven to keep everything in place shattered during the unexpected event that was the bodyswap--and he could not handle it.
They are in agreement, though--Syrlya, Mishka, Trahearne all understand they have a first in their hearts, in addition to a second. Despite the worry and anxiety and guilt that tugs at the fiber of his being, this one fact keeps him together. Despite how the bewilderment from the other two threaten to pull it all apart. He can't help but feel like, all he's done is make mistakes. Do things wrong. With the way he is, what he does--does he make anyone here happy? Or is he just a constant well of disappointment?
Those thoughts get nowhere, because Mishka abruptly redirects the conversation to Adelis, and so Trahearne clams himself shut and turns his attention appropriately.
...
Oh...?
It's Trahearne's turn for his brows to raise slightly in surprise. It's a boon, he thinks, that he can hear all the complementary thoughts within Adelis's head, because his words are vague enough. Is Syrlya catching onto this? Does the younger sylvari realize his crush might not, in fact, be one-sided?
He's content to sit back and let the concerned parties sort this out, except the tears that begin to stream down Adelis's cheeks quickly snap him out of his passive stupor. Away go all of his feelings, all of his doubt, back into a new, much sturdier box. His work façade comes back as he leaps into action. ]
Mishka. [ His tone, he scolds. This was clearly too much. It was too abrupt. They should have let one thing have breathing room before addressing Adelis's, perhaps, unrecognized feelings.
All of this, maybe, was too much.
His head whips to the side and he quickly snatches up the glass of water, untouched, from the side table, and strides over to Adelis. He crouches before him and extends the glass of water--regardless of whether the smaller man wants it or not, he's not letting go until he takes it. ]
We can take a break if you need a moment.
[ Because, honestly. There have been quite a number of revelations in the past...well. It hasn't been very long. Maybe a quick break could be beneficial to all of them.
Trahearne lifts his gaze to Mishka, mindful, but also pointed. The sylvari recognizes it is not his job to be comforting Adelis. It's Mishka's.
And--well. Not like he knows Adelis very well, either. Trahearne glances over his shoulder back at Syrlya. Are you out of your shocked stupor, yet? ]
Syrlya.
[ Come help, since this is directly related to you. ]
no subject
...
More than just his presence...? Well they did a lot more than sitting in the same room in silence. What does he mean? The relationship? The touch? The--oh.
Oh.
All those thoughts are evicted from Syrlya's mind when Adelis starts crying. And then the only thing Syrlya is concerned about it that--he has never seen Adelis this upset. Enough to weep, and the only thing he's concerned about is soothing him.
He gets up from his seat immediately, looking straight at Mishka with expectation. This is his Beloved, so he should be comforting him first? Tell him it's all right? Something?
He doesn't look at Trahearne until his name is called, though he's peripherally aware of what he's doing. And then he looks back at Adelis, brow knit and expression caught between worry and confusion.] Adelis, I--
[He doesn't come any closer, yet, because Adelis is already pretty crowded.]
no subject
He understands Adelis, nor anyone, can match the precise depth of his feelings for him, but he cannot be content with Adelis finding someone else first in his heart.
But Adelis does what Mishka could not have predicted he would do (Does he love Syrlya that much? his jealousy argues, he has never cried for me), and Trahearne and Syrlya do not let Mishka's feelings roil in silence. The scolding snaps him from his miserable thoughts, and there is the two of them expecting him to comfort Adelis, who cries for someone else, whom Adelis has been entangled with before Mishka ever arrived.
He purses his lips and furrows his brow, trying to dismiss the violent lunge of his muscle. He's never been much for comforting, and Adelis never one to need it. But he guesses he has begun to learn this language slightly, in the way Adelis seems to ease when Mishka takes his hand between their seats, or holds him in their bed.
Maybe there are smaller, better expressions of comfort, but he doesn't know them. What he does is he pulls Adelis sideways into his lap, and he wraps his arms around him, and he holds his head against his neck and shoulder, so he can hide his face, because Mishka imagines his pride would prefer it. The sideways positioning, though, and lack of force in his touch, allows Adelis to shift his position as he prefers.
Adelis isn't delicate, but he feels like it sometimes when you know you're a beast with your broad, sharp claws— both his hands, and his speech. He exhales soft. )
... I'm sorry, we don't have to speak of it now. ( Rare apology... ) I didn't think it would upset you so much.
( He's certainly picked up on all the thoughts of everyone around them, but he's not remarking on them at the moment. Adelis first. )
no subject
Unfortunately, this is a moment where both are currently colliding and unceremoniously exploding.
No matter how much he furiously rubs at his face, the tears just won't stop- they smear on his glasses and soak the edges of his sleeves. If the crying was not bad enough, the fact it's happening in front of everyone else is driving the nail in his coffin. He hates people seeing him vulnerable, only handing it out in minute quantities to those closest to him, but he wouldn't want even Mishka to see him weep. Hell, he didn't even know if he was still capable of doing so until now???
Unfortunately for everyone else, their concern is not seen in a very positive light. Adelis refuses to look directly at any of them, still attempting to brush the tears away, teeth gritting with the taste of salt on his tongue. ]
This is not- I'm not doing it on bloody purpose-!
[ He hates how choked up he sounds, with his throat feeling so unnaturally tight. Just because he doesn't need to breathe doesn't make it any easier, and his whole body tenses up the moment he abruptly finds himself pulled into Mishka's lap, being coddled like some kind of weeping child. Oh, god. This is- awful. This is terrible. He wants to evaporate into the fucking mist.
If Adelis was red before, now it's crawled all the way down his neck, face a furious beet red that you can't really be sure if it's from the blotchiness or the humiliation. He's frozen, apologies churning in his head, before he quickly attempts to push himself away with a splutter. Sorry, Mishka. ]
A-As if I've ever get so fucking emotional! Knock it off! Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is-
[ Unfortunately, he doesn't sound very convincing when he's so choked up while looking like a panicked child lost in the store. He, most definitely, would never cry over something like this. Sure, he's still reeling from the possibility that he may actually find himself feeling stronger for Syrlya then he originally thought, but it's not utterly distressing enough to warrant THIS??
This grip isn't tight, so maybe he can just. Up and bolt. Or perhaps if he aims out the window correctly, he can teleport out of here. Maybe he'll have to kill all of them just to stop this from getting any more mortifying. Either way, he's debating his escape routes with all the finesse of a man desperate to go slam his head into a wall and knock himself out. ]
no subject
The guilt comes down hard. He was such a fool, treating their friendship like it was only important to him. Downplaying to himself the harm that would come from breaking promises because he wanted to believe it was the best way. As if their relationship had not been mutual.]
Adelis, I--I am so sorry. [He bows his head with remorse as he finally finds his words.] My intentions do not absolve the harm I have caused but I swear on my life I will never be so careless with our friendship or your feelings again.
[Because it's definitely about the friendship? Of course he would miss the things they did as friends. When he looks back at them, he just can't see it romantically--he had carefully boxed his feelings up to keep them from growing, and he had seen clearly the lack of reciprocation in that particular fancy. But it was never the most important part of them anyway. He treasured Adelis simply for being himself.
And he had really done horribly by him. Guilt is a familiar weight around his neck but it hangs heavy all the same when faced with fresh hurt.]
no subject
Mishka's seething jealousy hits him first—the pure intensity of it causing his head to whip in his direction despite himself. No way—no way Adelis would put Syrlya first over Mishka. Trahearne refuses to entertain the possibility. He doubts Syrlya would let that happen either—he even said as much. And Syrlya is, if anything, a sylvari of his word.
Adelis's bewilderment comes next, and while Trahearne is a little disappointed he doesn't take the water, it isn't a big deal. He watches as Mishka pulls him in to comfort him, and Trahearne watches and listens. This—this doesn't sound intentional. The gears in his head turn as he tries to pick apart the younger man's speech and thoughts, but—
Then comes Syrlya's guilt. Trahearne's head snaps to look up at him, and all his focus settles on him for a second. He doesn't have the luxury of hearing, so all he can do is comfort without sharing Adelis's private thoughts without his permission.
Trahearne lays a hand on Mishka's knee, just to get his attention. And when he has it, he gives him a pointed look, as though asking him to mind Adelis in the meanwhile, and says quietly: ]
I will speak with you later.
[ Trahearne leaves it at that. He stands, glass of water in hand, and turns to Syrlya. The harsh facade dissolves in the face of his distress. He sympathizes, but does not panic. Once he sets the glass down on a nearby surface, he places both hands to Syrlya's shoulders to both calm him and get his attention. ]
Syrlya. [ His hands gently squeeze him. This guilt is familiar, and painful. Whatever weighs on Syrlya, he tries to ease through his own demeanor, tone. ] Look at me.
[ If he does, Trahearne rests his eyes on his. ] It is all right. It isn't what you think. I understand your guilt, but it is not necessary.
[ But the rest of it, that's not for him to say. ]
no subject
Like Trahearne, Mishka is privy to the flurry of thought, but this time he finds a strange feedback in Trahearne's thoughts— responding to the things he himself hears. He doesn't like that. He's piecing together Adelis's predicament with one hand and trying to stay his kneejerk reaction of violence with the other— because, like Adelis, he does not like it when people peer into him and see him, he does not like them having access to him when he is vulnerable.
Trahearne has, before, but not like this. The suddenness of this startles him, when he's all mixed up and perplexed over Trahearne loving him. Certainly, Trahearne can love Syrlya for all his flaws, but Mishka is no Syrlya. If they were to list out the traits between them that are good or ill, Mishka's scales would most certainly imbalance toward sickness.
When Trahearne gets his attention, he narrows his eyes. He will lean in, letting his grasp slip from Adelis to press his lips uncomfortably close to Trahearne's ear, his voice low, for him and him alone— )
And I will ask then how long you have been listening.
NOT REALLY A PART OF THE THREAD JUST A REACTION
So he's been found out.
Fine. But it seems there are two guilty parties here.
When Mishka pulls back, there's a familiar flush on Trahearne's cheeks, one Mishka, similarly, has been privy to countless times before. But the expression that complements it, this time, is firm, defiant. He doesn't have much to be afraid of anymore, at this point. But he says nothing, reacts no other way, before turning to tend to his own beloved--and by then, the flush is gone.
And was that a pang of arousal, muted beneath the calm he exudes? Luckily, the guilt of the only one who would be able to feel that is much too loud for that to seep through...hopefully. That pavlovian horny response is still alive and well, babyyy. ]
no subject
In any case, just as Trahearne turns his attention to Syrlya, Mishka turns his attention to Adelis. If there is anything good about this debacle, it's that he doesn't think Syrlya will be divorcing himself from Adelis any time soon... but, if Adelis returns Syrlya's feelings, is that a good thing, in fact?
Fortunately, Adelis is distracting.
I've written way too much already but suffice to say Mishka kept Adelis against him partially because he didn't want to share how he looks while in tears with anyone else, because the look of him crying, angry, distressed, and humiliated, is, an experience for Mishka that errs beyond the limits of PG-13. It's the first time he's seen it, and he wishes it had been only his to have.
Trahearne and Syrlya distracted, he cups Adelis's flushed, furious, bleary-eyed face in his hands, and he treasures it for the short moment this will last. )
... Did the Goddess do this to you?
( Considering the Goddess gave him sudden telepathy, and considering Adelis seems more confused than anything by his tears, Mishka is willing to wager there's a chance this is more than just Adelis being tsundere— it's entirely unnatural.
His fingers slip from his cheek to tip up his poor, fogged-up glasses, so he can lean in, and drag his tongue along the wet corner of his reddish eyes, swallowing the terrible, salty taste of his tears. )
It suits you.
( And while he has Adelis's glasses and Adelis's guard disoriented, he's snatching his wrists in his hands and quite purposefully twisting them— nothing painful, just a No Teleporting Please :) grip. )
no subject
[This seems like a pretty clear point A to point B, but Mishka speaks up before he asks--ah, that's right. He had been hit by something similar to the goddess, hadn't he? But what kind of timing, to make it real enough...
Anyway, Mishka's voice brings his attention to them just in time to see... oh. He's pretty sure he's not supposed to be privy to that? A flush of embarrassment blooms in him, because he realizes he's now witnessing something private. And it's awkward? He came here to talk but... it seems the talking is over.]
... Well if we're taking a break I'm going outside. [And he turns to scurry towards the door before he sees something else not meant for his eyes.]
no subject
The talking definitely is not over, considering the present concern at hand is yet to be addressed, due to the tearful interruption. But if it is the goddess's doing, then it can't be all that genuine, and there's a good chance it'll pass before long. ]
I'm coming with you. [ Also. It would be weird if Trahearne stayed, and Syrlya didn't. He is conscious of that much.
As he turns to follow Syrlya out, he casts a glance back at Mishka. We are not finished here. Behave. ]
timeskip
Mishka is still in the living room, but has been banished to a different, solo chair. He looks like he'd rather be with Adelis on the couch, but he doesn't look apologetic that he shot his shot during the one time in his life this is going to happen.
He'll acknowledge the trees with a glance when they come back in, but he's looking largely at Adelis. Oh to compare Summer Mishka with Mishka now... )
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Adelis himself is still in the seat he was in, now free of a certain someone's lap, but with the way his arms and legs cross and glasses remain sitting on top of his head, he clearly wasn't charmed by the display just as the trees were. Mishka may be looking at him, but Adelis is not going to look back, even if all he'd see is a bunch of blurry colors. Somebody has been a bitch motherfucker, and he is not being rewarded for it.
He is also, unfortunately, still crying. Tears continue to stream down his face, but he's given up on trying to wipe them constantly. At least he looks a tad less miserable. Just salty. ]
...My apologies. [ He is trying so hard to make himself sound level, despite the way his crying fit wants to ruin that. He rubs at his forehead...so tired... ] I should have known he's incapable of bloody behaving himself.
[ A moment, before his watery gaze snaps to Trahearne...'s vague green form. ]
I suggest you stay far away from him. He deserves no attention from anyone or anything but a foot up his arse at the moment.
[ That out of the way, it slips to the other figure in the room, hesitating for a brief moment before he gives a shaky exhale and brushes at his leaky eyes some more. God, he still doesn't know how to do this ( nor know if he should?? but agreements are agreements ), but they're all here now, and there are apparently more elements at play then he originally thought. ]
And it seems I've...given you the wrong idea. I'd prefer to rectify that before we garner any more misunderstandings to add to the pile.
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So he waits outside, by the door, joined by Trahearne. Aside from a brief... confirmation, that his feelings for Mishka are quite deep (on the romantic side, possibly deeper than Syrlya's are for Adelis') he stays quiet, arms folded and leaning against the wall as the awkwardness hangs over him. Let that cool down, but otherwise he's waiting to see if they're all done before he decides if he's talking about this just with Trahearne or as a group.
Evidently, they aren't, although he's a touch reluctant to go back in. But he does, because he intends to see this through.
He takes the same chair that he had sat in originally, across from the couch with his hands clasped over crossed legs. He is aware Adelis can't see shit right now, but he gives him his full attention anyway.
... Also because he can't stop staring at his crying face. Even if its a goddess curse, he looks so miserable... it makes Syrlya want to comfort him but he realizes that will only agitate Adelis further in this case.]
Okay. [Trahearne said as much too, though he doesn't know what Trahearne seemed to pick up on that he didn't.] I'm listening, of course.
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Adelis would be casting Mishka side-eyes right now if he wasn't too busy ignoring him on purpose, but Syr sits and he gains Adelis' full attention in turn, straightening himself up somewhat. He's fully aware he looks like a total mess, but if the tears aren't going to stop, then he might as well just ignore them for now. The power of sheer petty determination.... ]
....I'll admit, this is not something I've been...acutely aware of. It's a recent development, mind you.
[ Extremely recent. Hell, he might not have noticed had Mishka not needled him about it, so he has nobody to blame for that but himself. It's fortunate he can't keep direct eye contact like this, because this is still very much a topic he doesn't particularly like discussing in front of people...regarding himself, anyway.
He shifts, tense. ]
Our friendship, [ He says that with the hesitation of a man not used to having friends, ] is not what I was speaking of. We have already discussed that and gotten it out of the way, and I'm not some over-emotional child. What I am trying to say is that whatever you are feeling-
[ God just fucking strike him down right now. There's a brief moment as Adelis seems to be thinking of the proper words for it, before exhaling sharply. ]
May not be entirely. Unrequited.
[ aaaaaaaaa ]
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