|
|
|
|
|
Face your demons rolled 2 8-sided dice:
4, 8
Total: 12 (2-16)
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 8:55 pm
To Harland, not only would throwing a fight or holding back be disrespectful, but it could also be dangerous in the future; if he cared at all about Alistaire's wellbeing, and in fact he cared a lot, he'd do his best to make sure the man had as gruelling a fight from him as possible. The better prepared Alistaire was, the more confident Harland would be that he wouldn't meet a sudden and fatal end somewhere in a mission. That was the life they led, after all.
"I don't think I will, no," Harland said, cheerfully. "You'll get to it if you get to it," he added, irritatingly noncommital about the whole thing. Harland laughed when Alistaire held onto the cable. "Only you would grip a razor wire cable.... mo chroi," he finished, with a wink. Harland didn't bother really lashing, this time: what he did do was press the pressure plate on his palm, slicing the cable back.
Holding onto or being near a cable with that kind of coiling power was dangerous. Kind of a lot like it was dangerous to be near Alistaire, he suspected. "And you're the only one I'd want to be close to," Harland said, like it was the most normal thing to say ever.HP : 37 / 40
Charge: 3/3
DMG: 6
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
kuropeco rolled 2 8-sided dice:
8, 6
Total: 14 (2-16)
|
Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 9:36 pm
It was becoming rapidly evident that Harland's talents not only lay in his ability to be infuriatingly blase about things (as well as being an annoyingly, wonderfully good kisser), but also at holding his own in a fight. Alistaire supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, given that appearances were apparently always deceiving in Harland's case, but still, it made him arch a brow, a flicker of amusement passing across his eyes in spite of himself.
"You're mocking me now," he said, and the cable whipping back to Harland sliced a clean tear in Alistaire's glove this time. He gave a hiss of pain, stumbling forward, his palm feeling as though it was on fire, and then he lifted his head to look at Harland, his face flushing.
"So I've noticed," he said, and circled back around behind Harland again before facing him head on. Without warning he flipped the chains, whipping them towards Harland so that they snapped around his waist, and Alistaire dragged him forward, holding the ends of the daggers tightly until they were right in front of each other, only a few inches apart.
"But I'm also not one to be underestimated so easily," he said with a smirk.
HP: 19
DMG: 8
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Face your demons rolled 7 4-sided dice:
2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 2, 1
Total: 15 (7-28)
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 9:44 pm
"Wouldn't dream of it," Harland said, his voice low in his throat, eyes lowered and his skin growing hotter by the second as Alistaire snared him in the chains. "Better be careful what I wish for, mm?" he asked, his face tainted with that wicked smile that seemed to belong only to Alistaire. A side of Harland even he was unfamiliar with.
Alistaire had this way of getting under his skin.
And Harland didn't ever want him to leave.
Still, it was extremely hard to focus when Alistaire was so close. Harland tongued the inside of his labret. Harland leaned in, his body wishing so badly he could kiss Alistaire right now.
Instead, Harland's brain made him take advantage of the close quarters, bracing his palm against himself under the chain and firing straight at Alistaire. The impact of being so close probably wasn't the prettiest in the world.HP : 29 / 40
Charge: 3/3 FEAR this turn.
DMG: 13
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 9:56 pm
Being this close to Harland again did not help Alistaire's state of mind, and neither did Harland's smirk, which Alistaire was finding very intriguingly un-Harland like. His breathing had become unsteady, Alistaire's eyes falling to Harland's lips and then to the piercing just below, an almost curious expression on his face. He forced himself to drag his eyes back up, meeting Harland's gaze, and Harland was leaning closer, and Alistaire couldn't think straight, couldn't think of anything except that they were too close and in public -
The hookshot hit him dead on, catching him in the stomach, and Alistaire gave a sharp, half-strangled gasp of pain, staggering backwards and collapsing instantly. He landed on his back in the grass, utterly winded, and for several seconds he just lay there, trying to get the proper amount of air into his lungs.
"And what exactly," he said without getting up. Being so close to the dirt and the messiness was making his skin crawl, making him itch all over with the need to get up and run to the shower, but he forced himself to lie still and breathe through his nose, Alistaire's eyes half shut. "do you wish for, Mr. Belle?"
Focus.
HP: 5
DMG: n/a
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 10:11 pm
Harland pressed the pressure plate on his palm to retract the hookshot, letting it coil back up around his forearm. There was a reason he needed to work out so much; the sheer tension and recoil of using a weapon like this meant he had to have incredibly toned arms just to sustain its usage. He felt a lot better now that he was back to his routines, too.
He sat next to Alistaire in the grass, running the fingers not gauntlet-clad through the grass slowly, as if stroking through each strand. He looked up at the sky, one leg bent and nearly against his chest which he used to lean his gauntlet hand on, while the other leg was in a cross-legged sort of position.
"A home," Harland said, quietly. "Don't have to be much, but it'd be nice to know it wasn't just a dream, all those years I had a family an' I was happy," he said. "I know everythin' comes undone, but just for a bit. Just once more," he added. Harland looked distant, rifling through old memories. "How about you, Alistaire?" he asked, "since some wishes can't be granted alone." Harland smiled down at him, offering his bare hand to pull him back up.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 10:19 pm
He felt, rather than saw, Harland sit next to him, the grass rippling a little as Alistaire slowly counted numbers, trying to dispel some of the nausea. He ran a gloved hand through his hair and felt the strands tickling his bare palm, reminding him that the glove was now ripped and mostly useless.
He hadn't expected a serious answer - or rather, he hadn't expected an answer that was not a silly quip about being close. But Harland's tone was serious, his voice quiet, and Alistaire lowered his hand to look at him in surprise, still mentally counting, trying to steady his own breathing.
What do I wish for?
He had no idea, other than moving past his crippling inability to handle messy things - such as his own mind. Alistaire sat slowly up, brushing grass from his shirtsleeves and turned sideways to Harland, his chest feeling tight.
"Are you implying that you can grant some of my wishes?" he asked, a little breathlessly, which galled him. He blamed it on still being winded from Harland's unexpected attack. Alistaire shook his head.
"No one can help me, Mr. Belle, I'm already down the rabbit hole."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 10:25 pm
Harland smiled at Alistaire, still lost in his own thoughts. "Who, me?" he asked, and something must have amused him, because he laughed and looked back up at the sky again. He didn't know much about granting wishes, no; he didn't know much about being in love, either, really. It didn't usually work out well for him. Not that it seemed to deter him, either.
"Hmm, bet a rabbit hole'd look just fine with a nice carpet an' a stove for tea, an' maybe a window like that one in winnie the pooh," Harland said, and he looked weirdly serious about it, thoug he was smiling.
He paused for a moment, to wink at Alistaire. "Seems to me like a rabbit hole's not a bad place to make a home," he said.
He was telling Alistaire he wasn't scared, he wasn't giving up, and he would follow him down the rabbit hole into whatever darkness lay there, if that's what it took. And he'd bring a part of him with him, in the hopes of changing that darkness. It would surely alter Harland himself, but he was telling Alistaire that he wasn't afraid. "I'm not much of a genie, but why don't we see what wishes I can grant? No harm done by it an' all."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 10:54 pm
Alistaire gave a graceless snort, absently tugging at the fingers of his ruined glove. He wasn't looking at Harland, but instead at the open field around them, which was entirely deserted except for the two of them. It didn't mean, however, that they were going to stay alone; anyone could walk by at any given moment.
He felt a surge of mingled anxiety and confusion before he tamped it back down, Alistaire finally giving up on his glove and slanting a look in Harland's direction.
"I never read Winnie the Pooh," he said, entirely serious, and frowned slightly as a muscle tensed in his jaw. "You wouldn't know about how dark it is down here, Mr. Belle. You live up in the sun, in the brightness. It's different up there," he emphasized, though he still couldn't help the way his stomach twisted. He felt strangely uneasy, oddly out of sorts.
No harm done by it.
But there's already harm done, Alistaire thought.
He looked around again, and then stood up hastily, his head spinning. He thought he might be sick.
"My room," he said roughly. "I need to change my gloves."
The way he said it clearly indicated that he meant for Harland to come with him, rather than simply letting him stay where he was on the training fields.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 11:09 pm
Alistaire didn't look like he was doing well, again, but Harland didn't want to start to question him; Alistaire would, surely, say something soon. When Alistaire told him he wouldn't know how it was, he just looked at Alistaire with an empty sadness in his eyes, whether or not Alistaire was looking at him. Harland, as he was rising, said quietly, smiling as much as he was able: "Guess you're right, huh; never been in the dark to know what it's like."
Harland thought it was stupid Alistaire would even say that to him. It hurt, in its own way: Harland had taken for granted Alistaire was starting to learn more about him, starting to understand. Harland had given him so many secrets, shown him how much things actually hurt. Harland had shown the other side to himself, the one that he fought constantly with his optimism. He always came out the winner, but that wasn't for lack of darkness on the other side.
He wondered, absent-mindedly, what it would have been like to grow up with a sibling. What it would have been like to be Alistaire and Ian.
Harland nodded to indicate he'd heard Alistaire, and trailed along after him, loping in his cowboy boots with desummoned coyote back in his navel. His thumbs were tucked into his belt loops, and he was silent again.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 11:23 pm
He didn't like the sadness in Harland's eyes, didn't like that he didn't like it. His hands had started to shake again, which he hated because it made him look weaker, made him feel weaker. Alistaire remained silent along the path back to the dormitory building, the itchy sensation from the dirt and the grass not quite dissipated yet.
When he reached his room, he unlocked it carefully, fumbling with the key before he pushed the door open and stepped inside, moving to let Harland in before he shut it again (of course), twisting the lock. He dropped his keys on the desk and went straight for the closet, rummaging around in it. When he surfaced again, he had a pair of clean black gloves, Alistaire stripping off the old ones with a look of disgust and dropping them in the trash with trembling fingers. Finally managing to yank the new ones on, he gave an audible sigh of relief and turned back to Harland, his cheeks slightly flushed.
"Ah," he said, as though he'd only just remembered Harland was there - except that was a lie, because he was only too aware of the other's presence, the warmth radiating outwards from him. "I suppose that for beating me in our fight, you've earned a prize," he continued, in the same casual tone of voice.
His head hurt.
"What do you want?" he asked, and it was a loaded question, but he asked it anyway, turning around slowly to face Harland again.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 11:38 pm
Harland was watching, quietly, as Alistaire rummaged in the closet and replaced the old destroyed gloves with clean new ones. The visible improvement with mood seemed almost instant. Harland looked at Alistaire, really looked at him, trying to sort out how he was feeling in that moment. Since Alistaire'd said it was different for Harland, like he was immune to pain or loneliness or darkness, Harland had felt a thorn in his heart and he didn't understand why.
He just knew that it stung.
When Alistaire casually said he had earned a prize, Harland looked down at the floor, rather than meet his eyes. "Wasn't really a win, we stopped fightin'," Harland said, quietly.
He knew what he should answer. A kiss, or You, and either would be true: he did want both of those things. But like the kiss, Harland couldn't bring himself to give the answer he figured Alistaire wanted. He moved so that he was leaning near the door. "It's not a game," Harland said, shrugging one shoulder. Harland still didn't feel like meeting his eyes. He took slow, steady breaths, his shoulder pressed against the crack of the door so that getting in or out was impossible unless Harland moved.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 16, 2014 11:47 pm
"It's not a game."
It never was, not really. Sometimes he liked to believe that it was because it was easier that way; it was easier to pretend that things were one way when in reality, the way they were was much more complicated, much more complex, much more frightening. Because what it all came down to, really, was that Harland Leander Belle was frightening.
He was warmth and brightness and optimism. He was mischievous and sarcastic and calm. He got under Alistaire's skin like nobody else had, and he added to the mess in Alistaire's head without realizing it, without Alistaire wanting to admit it.
He'd meant what he'd said - Harland was different, he was not bad.
"I..." said Alistaire, and his voice came out hoarse, his throat dry. He licked his lips, and Harland's expression was still terribly sad as he leaned against the doorframe, blocking any entrance or exit. It made the room feel smaller somehow.
Alistaire stepped closer to Harland, his heart in his throat, until he was right in front of him again, close enough to feel that terribly addictive warmth.
"I never said it was a game."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 17, 2014 12:18 am
Why was it that no matter how much time Harland spent trying to make himself stronger, he always felt it fall away when Alistaire was near him? All the time he'd spent putting distance between the man he was now and the boy he'd been when he couldn't change his fate and he couldn't find anything at all to hold onto. He had to make something to hold on, or be lost forever. He had to be his own sun, and he wanted to be that for everyone else, too; that was why he tried so hard to be calm, tried so hard to be optimistic. The world had enough of the rest. What it needed was something else, now.
Harland finally looked up, as Alistaire stepped close. He wanted so badly to grab hold of Alistaire, pull their bodies together. He didn't want anything in specific, he just wanted to hold onto him, to feel his heartbeat in his chest, the rise and fall of his lungs. Harland just wanted to hold him, just that.
Somehow, it made all the difference that Alistaire was at least inferring it wasn't a game. "I just want to hold you," he said, "and not hurt you doin' so," his throat constricted again, and as much as he wanted to explain, he just couldn't. His voice was gone.
Harland didn't just like him. He wasn't fond, he didn't have a crush, he didn't want sex or pity or someone to fight.
Harland Leander Belle loved Alistaire because of who he was, because he'd seen some of the parts Alistaire worked so hard to fight or hide or whitewash, and as a result Harland just kept loving him more and more.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 17, 2014 6:22 am
It was all about control with Alistaire. Control of his own feelings, control of his own emotions, his actions, his thoughts; and, if it were possible, his own surroundings. He needed that sense of being in control of something because otherwise he felt lost and adrift and unable to accomplish a single thing.
Harland somehow managed to break that control, and it was messy and terrifying and he had little idea of how to comprehend someone like Harland Leander Belle, but at the same time, he wanted to test that warmth, see how long it would last. It was a war within himself, half of him frightened at his loss of control, anxious and panicked about being too close, and the other half of him just wanted to be closer to someone for the first time in his life.
He was not in love with Harland Leander Belle, but maybe, just maybe, he could learn to be.
Alistaire took another step closer and now they were close enough that he could see the little silver piercing beneath his full lower lip, Alistaire's heart in his throat. Harland was already leaning back against the door and now Alistaire had leaned against him, slowly at first, tentatively, until the full weight of his body was pressed up against Harland's, and the warmth was dizzying. He fought the rising panic and instead pushed his face into the crook of Harland's neck, his arms sliding around Harland's waist as he breathed him in.
"Then hold me," he mumbled. "You won't hurt me."
Because I'm too far gone, he thought, but he didn't say it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 17, 2014 8:20 am
Harland had absolutely no desire or intention of telling Alistaire how he felt. He was a little frustrated with himself that it had happened so suddenly, but it was unsurprising; he hadn't been close to anyone like that in a very long time, and he was hardly a very guarded individual. Still, for now he just wanted to keep the happy secret to himself.
It was a level of closeness Harland didn't want to embrace, not yet.
Harland nodded, and slipped his arms around Alistaire's back, one hand moving up to the shoulders with fingers splayed while the other wrapped around his waist. He leaned his head against Alistaire's, gently, and just held him, without saying anything, for a while.
"Alistaire?" Harland tried, "You're not... nearly as awful as ye advertise."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
