Welcome to Gaia! ::

Was this what it felt like? A gentle tug like the buzz of a distant alarm going off; like an invitation, instead of a noose-like yank n' pull from one space into the next. It was so ******** strange. He almost found that he hated it, the lack of familiarity that he'd grown as used to as a solid hand on the nape of his neck. He mused he'd get used to this too, as he cracked his neck n stretched out of a nap; all heatlamp warmth n catlike limberness.

It'd been a really -- really -- really good nap.

His boy'd called though, n with the realization of what that meant? Well, heck, Waru took his time on the little things that didn't matter so much when the glamour was on. Brushed his teeth, re-twisted his ends properly, put on extra lotion. He felt the seconds tick on into minutes - the instantaneous become a slow choice - sighed for the wave of guilt that followed his lingering, because, ********, what if Eion actually needed him for something important?

If he was bleeding out, or dying, or ---nonono - nope!

This was supposed to be a good thing! A nice surprise for his Fiancé; he wound his way from bathroom to kitchen, solid steps and hardly a stitch on, because he wouldn't need it after. Didn't care at all when he was alone - raiding his fridge for a dark box full of hard crust, fresh cream filling, chilled-chocolatey glaze embroidered in extra swirls.

A sweet pack of the cutest little eclairs he ever had seen.

Only once he had his prize in hand did he pull Albite on. The wash of power, all tight swaths and the itch of being wound so firmly into it. From steel tipped toe to weighted dread.

"Ohkay Waru, you've got this! He's fineeee. S'clearly alive or he wouldn't be calling you atall. You just pop in, n say -- "

Followed the thread of Ei's pull straight into the all too familiar surroundings of what he could only ever think of as 'their' office. Favored haunt; littered with memories, scorch marks, n a center of busy flames burning up behind an ever dented desk. The palpable relief in his voice for that -- for Eion being alive, n right where he was supposed to be.

"Surprise!"

"Holy--" and that was a ******** thing to dodge, the shattering of technology that breezed right on by his overly thick skull -- all slow motion zing before the crack n groan that foretold the unwitting bit of machines end.

Thing really went out with a bang.

The noise of it was quiet though, compared to Eion's snarled snippets of sound, and the crackle of barely contained fire. That sense of sound hit him long before the feeling did;

He never really wondered if Eion cared. He saw it, every day, in neat text and chickn scratch scrawl that proclaimed their 'strengths' while dousing their weaknesses when presented to others; with hastily withheld claws, with ceaseless warnings and extensions of -- <********> -- time, lessons, gentleness. Cause he knew his beloved could be a dagger fresh off the forge when turned on others, but doused himself in frigid waters that bred patience n held tongues for his team. For ******** hell, though. It was nice to have that innate knowledge confirmed every now n then. Too see that care -- blazed free n coming his way. Pissed for all the right reasons, so far as he was concerned.

His boxed surprise fulla treats could find the floor, his wince for warmth could get smothered under a cocksure grin that softened just enough around the edges to be something less infuriating, and more infused with his undying affection for the pile of vicious flames wrapped in grated flesh. "Such a hot boy. Were you worried, did you think I'd leave you, Ei'? Go all quietly into the night or something...n up and die without you?" never, never, never, and his grin became grit for what was to come. "I made a promise, didn't I." hissed because, holy ********, hot - hot - hot! Too fool to let go, too riled to suppress the way his own magic roiled in answer, retribution made to bind -- even if those flames ate at the very edges of it.

This felt like another part of keeping it, all those promises n more. Like something done *right* - in spite of all the upset he could guess he'd caused. He'd just have to find out how to make it up to his Fiancé properly..

Oh, that heated sting and mark - the flash of pain - he took it; soothed his face like he was smearing a freshly pressed kiss with the palm of his hand; sighed at himself for his own cross-wired tendencies. Especially for how he wondered if it’d bruise proper — if Eion would find other ways to curb every bit of emotion he’d dredged up so recklessly, with utter abandon. Though all of those thoughts paled in comparison to how beautiful he thought Faustite was.

How terrible, that he liked it when Ei’ cried, that he craved that particular arch of brow and snarl of a frown. All the flare for his partners particular brand of want, of love. Impossible to hide his glee for seeing Eion all tangled up in his own emotions with Agnis flames roaring aglow enough to have him sweating for it.

*Beautiful husband of mine — love you — sorry—*

Hot thoughts all warped into a single snort n nod, coupled into him willing himself not to reach - to yank Faustite right back where he belonged; leaving matching char-marks n suffering the suffocating sorts of hugs he wanted to leverage eternally.

Ah well — He hammed it up regardless — mimed his pain. “Oowwh—“ then fell in line like he was tethered to that fine, fiery a** leading the way out. “—okay, so, I maybe deserved that. Didn’t consider how you’d feel bout this sorta surprise; Axinite was so confused n helpful - wasn’t sure if you two were, yanno?” on good terms, and how on earth he portrayed that through vague hand gestures n a face aimed at Faustites back; the attempt was made, regardless. “Jet though? Wants to Spar with me, if you can believe it —- I’d love you to watch that.” alight and all off-topic, his tongue as busy spewing words as it was teasing the lingering sting on the inside of his cheek.

N that Faustite wanted to show him something? *He wondered* — a surprise for a surprise — matching grave plots? Cool rift s**t! Maybe a way for him to express gratitude n apology in more than simple words; why bother when he could use his actions instead?

“Oh — do I ask where we’re going? Wait, should I guess?”

The rake n trial of fresh metal sheathed into locks, wound at the tips; his gaze held firmly by fiery steps. Amused by the way bodies skittered into alcoves and got the ******** outta their way — how the halls they moved through didn’t lead to the Rift. Didn’t lead in any directions he was used too. Not that it was of any mind, he could count the nuanced ways him b Faustite had certain things n common, and walking s**t off? Outpacing his own ever-restless n gnawingly anxious energy? Seemed to be one of em….

And everything that fell in the wake of Faustites Sahara scorched heat; dredged up a coughed little laugh from behind. Albite couldn’t’ve held back if he’d tried. There was just something about it all — the ache that’d stay days later from flames that overarched the bars of a delicate grate; something he definitely meant to comment on sometime. All that clockwork and bronze coated with soot. How absolutely ******** insane anyone sat inside his head would’ve assumed him to be.

Not that he had enough pennies to his name to pay care for—had his boys snipe n tchy’ bits of witty words. Cawed unabashed for the idea that he’d end up beheaded — he could’ve gone on about how they would’ve invited Axinite too; watched the poor man worry his nails to nubs of bone for the spectacle it would’ve surely been.

Should’ve probably led with the notion that he’d ask Aquas permission first — heh — all the parts of him that wanted to see Jets *sword*, n figure if the Queen’d granted him something good.

Had to have been pretty, at least. Aqua seemed like the type that liked *pretty* with an edge.

“Oh, so little faith n’ my abilities. It’d be fun for the first minute at least — heh — or till the magic ran out.” shrug followed by saunter n a bobble of nods. Subdued into curiosity, because suddenly it made sense to pay attention to the path, a little puzzling but that clicked in full - that dragged his attention from the nice a** his eyes couldn’t help but follow, and instead to everything *around*. He’d never ventured out - no reason to bother hungry ghosts and creaking decay bathed in the false-suns afterglow, at least, not until now.

All the split aged earth, n ruined cobble, masonry monuments that’d withstood the test of time. If only in part. Faustite was talking, leading, showing — This was new. This was — “A house?”

A lighter tread over the threshold, the crease of confusion that lined his brow gave way to glee. “A Home!” and he was off — a body outpacing a mind rapidly; admiring the vast space, curled arches, however empty n old. It seemed sturdy for the way it failed to crumble at his loudness.

There were no neighbors, he wouldn’t need to pay rent, he could see Faustite everyday — “Show me where we’ll sleep!” himself, faustite, ******** - the whole of the team if his boy wanted it that way!

Sleeping was akin to permanency in his mind, something he needed to map out visually, something that was done in a place labeled *safe*. He craved the knowledge of his boys plans. Especially after all his time n worry over nothing. The latent fears of a Basic at being trapped beneath the ever-dark of an unbreachable ceiling had been done away with, after the reassurances granted over time, and solidified with power. If he wanted sun he could have it, and if he wanted fire? It stood shining in their doorway, accessibly warm at his fingertips.

He could sleep next to him even! *Nightly.* Daily?!

“Wait! Wait wait wait — scratch that — show me after. Cincher first.” he bounced on sturdier heels with childlike energy, clomped right back up to Faustites ever elegant form in a rush; too wide grin heightened with a mischievous glint.

But he had an idea —- a want — no! A Need.

Albite’s gob could’ve caught any manner of flying things, his still tongue a landing strip for ash mites and entire passenger planes. The purest sort of ‘no you didn’t’ that ever so quickly became ‘don’t tempt me’; even as he shut his trap and followed up one step - another - automatic heed winning out on blatant desire.

It was in that same instant, that he realized Faustite wouldn’t be carried daintily over their shared threshold into blissfuly eternal domesticity, ohno, he’d be dragged. Flung over his shoulder like some fair prize that’d been hard won after a long hunt, or better yet? Kicking and screaming by the roots of his hair, his boy a maiden fair and himself? Some barbaric, heavy browed nomad of old chanting ‘Me Albite - You Mine’; leopardprint loincloth, spears and all. The complete fire taming motif. He’d get a gut full of claws for all his troubles with this one, but wouldn’t that be equally glorious still? Proof of strong heirs or some other cartoonishly archaic bullshit.

It was a flashfire of a thought.

The sort that centered around the way Ei’s claws splayed over narrow jut of angled hip that wasn’t ever bare enough; the blood was black and boiling beneath all those layers, the marrow would’ve been deemed *exotic* by some connoisseur, even though the real treat was that mind.

Such a spicy mind.

Though, maybe it was getting told to ‘take it’, in that particular tone. A bald faced challenge, cold water smattered atop hot oil, “You’ve got a point Ei,” he nearly slipped on the stairs, too fixated on the swaying assets taking lead and tossing charbroiled gauntlets at his indelicate feet, “the sharpest, pointiest — ohh..was this place a wizards, you think? Rapunzels real life hide away?” curtailed as he only now realized the shape of the structure, it made him think of old Victorian style homes, hidden castles n fairy tales - war rooms?

They’d totally need a war room.

Dense doors, wall scones, barred windows with thick drapery, Ei’s eternal flames to light the fixtures with — “Yanno, it’s some sort of insane that you wind me up so easy — I’m gonna be that guy, hard up for handmade stonecraft and fancily grated fire pits — banned from several Home Depot’s and a Lowe’s over indecency in the masonry aisle!” zealous exaggerations, and as the archway loomed for entry at the top of the stair - Albite reached to tug those trailing threads of capelet; tattered, vibrant, and he knew it to be warm as it was soft; especially especially if he curled his fingers in the ends of it, just so...

"Too true, you've made a degenerate of me; means that all there's left to do? Is make this place a proper keep, since -- yanno -- society frowns on my licking charcoal n finding it comparable to, wellll...." all the eyebrows and roaming looks that landed squarely below Eion's crossed belts. A sly retort and an easy stance, and as he caught those eyes he couldn't help the warmth he felt for the sight of it all; this was Eion conceiving plans for their future like some bright bit of loveliness.

This was Faustite's space, the sprawl of open views and spacious turn of the room; no more pacing that would die at the end of four corners and straight lines. The bit of sheet metal and sunken heat parched plant caught the slightest bit of side eye before being ignored; the state of the items didn't matter as much as their owner staking a claim by placing them there. The wizard in his tower, mapping plans, pinning plots on boards...or better yet? Napping. Definitely seemed a wizardly thing to do!

"They'll say I should do that s**t in private - and now? There's a whole helluvalot of private to do it in. I like it -- No, I love it." a hushed noise of adrenaline barely held at bay, albite felt it sizzle under his skin, livewire quick and how the voltage climbed warmly in the center of his chest with each step he took to close that gap between them. "I love you. I love that we're including our team in all this." braved that heat, and he wouldn't tell his boy that he'd done a 'good job'; actions always spoke louder, afterall, and it was far, far, easier to reel his love in by the tattered ends of that split cape - fist the velvety softness and lean in for an almost kiss - and pull himself up short by a feathers width.

"It won't be an easy fixup," breathless little ghost of sound that begged for shutting up, all at play even as he gently baked in proximity; like the worlds smuggest reptile, "but it'll be fun. Maybe we ring a terrace round this thing...get my bird a perch...mmhn - lots n lots of wrought iron?"

Copper, moondust, ozone, salt and choal - the way the flavors reminded him of rare meats and foreign seasoning; he hissed steam after the brief heated touch. Huffed a breath for all that want — the gentle tingle that lingered; like tasting something freshly hot off the stove without cooling it first. Actions he never regretted, especially when he was hungry.

The hunger was as easy a leash to tie himself to as the hand that tugged him along; careless steps and an eager smile, because he knew he could keep his hands busy with — ungainly buttons and clasp — if he tried to help Faustite get himself fastened in more quickly and made half a mess of it all - the ways heat were rarely deterrents for his need to touch.

Oh, just about damn near everything.

He snorted for the idea of having a fuller plate. There would always be more to do, endlessly. The tasks would pile to the stars and beyond — “That won’t change anytime soon, and right now? All I wanna do is you….*but*…” a rough sigh for how he dragged his thoughts back to ‘hows’ and lists that would quickly become endless. “We’re taking advantage of all our friends with resources. Design comes first — some blueprints for how you want things laid out? We can take a team poll if you want inputs for their various needs - then demo - then the rest..” eyes alight for the mention of beaches!

“..that can come after? Before — s**t - I’m half tempted to just, elope with you, yanno? Put you in a hot air balloon n sail where we need to go. You’d look good on a beach Ei’, not even a few miles from home.” he wondered how far subspace travel would get them? If teleportation could happen over league’s office space and time. If Ei would tan — or burn? If he’d love his family as much as Albite was sure his family would love him..

“Do we honeymoon first, or do we set up the home? I suppose both can happen if we leave instructions —“ an open ended offer that hung on a shrug. There was still so much to plan for, but he was more determined now than ever before.