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 Posted: Fri Sep 16, 2016 5:48 pm
a myth of devotion
Sometimes, at night, the world feels too quiet. And sometimes, that quiet can be a terrifying thing.
Thorne stands in the hollowed out abyss of Coalsmoke and listens. He has been listening for days, actually. Shadows do not speak, or so he would like to tell himself. But this is not a playing field he knows anymore. And here in the artificial light of Coalsmoke, he cannot be certain he ever will.
But he wants to know.
His hands fall over the light switches. He cannot remember if Chris was out at Alg's or the store or the plant shop or simply - gone. For a moment, the world stutters, caught in that splinter second between the after glow of lights going dark and true black before -
Even the stars seem swallowed by this night.
Thorne feels the pull stronger now, like a hook at the center of his navel. He settles in the furthest reaches of Coalsmoke, where the empty space still hasn't been claimed. The wicked curve of shadows from the spaces in between windows, the long slices of blackness reaching in.
Thorne kneels, blinks into them, and wonders.
Ashdown? he thinks, in his head. Because it is tugging, tugging, tugging, this sensation. It wants him closer, deeper, down, and down, and down.
There is a split second of conscious thought. No. Other -
And then he presses his palm flat against the shadows as they move and coil like physical things, licking up against his hands and arms and against the small of his back, the curve of his jaw. And it is like hitting cold water, like a free fall and his mouth shutters open into a sharp gasp, the shadows angling in -
And the world fractures into a thousand blinking stars, the scent of petrichor, and the soft sweet melody of a world on the other side of theirs.
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Posted: Fri Sep 16, 2016 6:10 pm
a myth of devotion
It's been better lately.
That's what Chris has been telling himself and for once, it doesn't feel like a lie, like something he's using to comfort himself. It has actually been better lately and Chris can feel it and it makes him happy. He can see it in the edge of Thorne's smiles, in how he'd been trying to draw again, in 2 am grocery runs and in even himself, being able to pick up his laptop and think about teaching again. It'd still be too much sometimes and there would still setbacks, still moments of fear, still bad nights.
But it's been getting better lately.
So when Chris comes back from a visit to Jer, a quick run to the grocery store, to see Coalsmoke without any lights on is incredibly alarming.
He's thought himself to be long past the idea that Thorne would be taken, but in that moment he can't deny the terror that courses through him as he takes the steps up incredibly fast. As he jimmies the door open, disregarding knocking at all and hopes Thorne has maybe tripped a breaker or his weird downstairs neighbor has done something or hell, maybe Thorne's even sleeping. Anything but the idea that Melany (ever still out there, ever still a threat) came by and did something.
What he finds is no less reassuring.
The inside of Coalsmoke is dark, darker than the outside and he fumbles in the dark, trying to find something to light his way. Eventually he gives up and turns on his phone flashlight. The inside of the apartment looks fine, everything still in place, down to the assortment of clothing hanging off the back of the couch and books still on the floor.
"Thorne?" He calls out, but he can't hear a reply and the terror races through his veins again in a rush, as he starts moving through warehouse. Searching everywhere, because he has to be somewhere. He has to, there is no other option.
Chris won't let there be.
He eventually finds him in the farthest place, near the windows of all things. For a second, he thinks Thorne is just sitting in a corner, devoured by the darkness of all the lights being off. The window is giving him enough light that he hasn't used his phone, but when Thorne doesn't answer to his name being called once more, he uses his makeshift flashlight. And finds Thorne totally encased in shadow.
The bag he's holding is dropped to the ground, fruit and produce spilling as Chris drops by Thorne, his phone leaving his hand a moment later. He doesn't know what to think, what to do, he had never expected to see this.
In a useless panic he places his hands on Thorne's shoulders, giving them a good shake. "Thorne!" He calls again, sounding desperate. Sounding afraid.
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Posted: Fri Sep 16, 2016 8:51 pm
a myth of devotion
Thorne is in Other Ashdown.
No - he is in Coalsmoke -
No - he is -
The truth is this: Thorne doesn't know what he is. He is aware that there is a difference between there and not-there, awake and asleep. Here was the thing about being alone though: you were never quite there. Loneliness was a state of being when you had been left, removed. But there was opposition in your mind. You are not alone, presided over a court of arguments, alongside fractured images and memories. For Thorne, it was Chris in his bed, nothing but soft lines and edges and curves. Aleksy and Laika. Snapshots of the garden shop. Algie and Jeremiah's kitchen.
But here, in the shadows, Thorne understood finally what it meant to be truly separate. His mind rushed, confused itself. You are here - no - you are there - you are - can you speak?
Thorne tries, and realizes that he can't even feel his throat. His mouth. His body. Panic settles in his mind, cold and hard, but Thorne shoves it away. Not here, not here. Another image flashes and Thorne realizes that he is seeing different parts of Ashdown. Splintered images of the other side. It is a freefall, fumbling for grip - for something - anything -
Thorne thinks, show me Coalsmoke.
It is desperate, a prayer or a command, but not a question. Melany had taught him that. Never ask. Never ask.
The images spin and weave. Parking lots. Ugly crab grass and broken down, gaunt eyed shells of abandoned warehouses. Not his though. Not his.
Show me Coalsmoke, Thorne thinks - in a distant echo, he thinks he hears his own voice, and the deep tremor of command that runs through it, nearly lyrical, in a tone that could not be ignored. Show me.
Other Ashdown trembles before him. It is Coalsmoke, inverted. A plant otherbeing sing-songs close by.
Thorne snarls.
The shadows hum and chatter in response. They spit out an image - Coalsmoke in darkness. Chris shakes - oh, it is his body, isn't it? Chris calls his name. The shadows are protective though. They snare like thorny manifestations around him, hungry and collective.
Hush, Thorne thinks. Says. That same command.
And suddenly he is gasping, back in his body, the shadows in retreat. He has the mind to grab onto Chris, to ground himself, before gracelessly falling onto his back, grunting from the sudden back meets floor mentality. Reality. Real. This is -
"Oh," Thorne says, his head suddenly aching, his entire body too heavy. Everything is heavy. Thorne groans and arches his back up, away from the ground, stretching his limbs out and trying to realign himself with what it means to be a mind occupying a human body again. His eyes flutter closed, open again.
He looks up at Chris.
"I think," he says slowly, "I've discovered something."
He reaches up and presses a hand to the side of Chris's neck, and his expression softens.
"I heard you calling. I'm sorry I scared you."
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Posted: Fri Sep 16, 2016 11:12 pm
a myth of devotion
The shadows curl around Thorne as a defense and for awhile Chris still has that fear running through him, petrifying him to the bone as he can't seem to snap Thorne out of - whatever this is. He just sits there and worries and doesn't know what to do. Does he call Alg or Jer or-
Thorne taking grab of arm is enough to startle him out of his thoughts, jerk his attention back to Thorne before he falls on the ground. Chris stares for a long moment, wondering what's next. If it'll be Thorne or if it'll be something else entirely or if, for all he knows, everything will just spontaneously end.
So he watches, suspicious, unsure of what will happen. But it turns out it is Thorne, if just a little tired, a little surprised. A little more knowledgeable, apparently.
Chris gives a tired, nervous laugh, presses his free hand to his heart.
"It's okay," He sighs, leaning into the touch. Grounding himself, making sure that this is real. Reminding himself it's okay, Thorne is fine, they'll be fine. "What did you discover?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 12:04 am
a myth of devotion
"Well," Thorne considered, staring up at Chris as though drinking in the sight of him for the first time in a very long time, "First I discovered how terrible it is to feel absolutely alone. But then I also ran into the fact that shadows like me. A lot. I'm serious," he added, a teasing edge to his tone, "You might even have competition."
He hefts himself into a sitting position, nearly close enough that his nose brushed Chris's. He tilts his head at him, his expression hungry and greedy. He strokes an absent thumb against the underside of Chris's jaw.
"I saw Other Ashdown," he says finally, "I saw glimpses of this world and there. I think - I was seeing out from other shadows." He closes his eyes. "I ordered them to show me Coalsmoke, and they did, and then I told them to be quiet, and I came back."
He looks at Chris.
"I heard you," he says again, like this is important. "You were the reason I remembered and came back."
He reaches out and lays his hand on the floor, and the pool of shadows seems to strengthen there, blackening the floor. They whisper like lulling waves. Come and use us, their fragmented speech, not even in any language, says.
Thorne pulls his hand away from the ground and looks back at Chris.
"But it was lonely," he concedes. "Thank you for calling me back."
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 2:15 pm
a myth of devotion
Chris smiles despite himself at Thorne's joke, sitting down on the ground in a position that wouldn't cramp his legs so much. "I can imagine it sucks," Chris says dryly, "Although I doubt the shadows will win against me, if it ever comes to that. I am the far more devoted one."
He blinks at the sudden closeness of Thorne, unexpected but not unwanted. An expression he's familiar with and he closes his eyes at the touch, a soft smile on his face.
"Like scrying into it?" Chris questions, opening his eyes and giving Thorne a confused look. "That's.. that's amazing Thorne. You can see into Other Ashdown without having to be there. That's incredible."
He looks at Thorne with wonder, with amazement. Something in him that's still hungry to learn and know, that isn't scared of Other Ashdown. A fragment of his old self.
"I'm glad you did," Chris admits and there's something there that is a little fearful. "You were covered in shadows, like something out of a horror movie. I barely saw you."
He looks down at Thorne's hand, at the shadows that blacken the floor and he's a little scared again. Not for him, but for Thorne. For what could happen.
"You're welcome," He says, "I wonder, what would have happened if I wasn't there. I hope nothing bad."
He leans forward and rests his head on Thorne's shoulder, smiles against his collarbone. Feels a little better.
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 3:11 pm
a myth of devotion
Thorne laughs softly, wraps one of his arms around Chris's shoulders. He glances up at Chris and grins. It's warm and wolfish, familiar, almost. A burrowed gem beneath the fractures and fault lines that make up his brittle shell of existence.
"Oh no, they'd be hard pressed to even stand a chance," He remarks. "And who is to say I am not the most devoted one here?"
He tilts his head, a slight nod.
"It's - " he blinks and looks at Chris. "Endless. I could get lost in there. I think I would have, if not for you. But they listened. Once I told them what to show me, they listened."
He smiles, a small spark of wonder threading into the corner of his eyes. He looks back at Chris, nothing but wild eyes and sharp angles. He had known people that would have shirked from it, from magic. From him. But he doesn't and neither does Chris. And something in him treasures the other a little more for it.
"I'm sorry," he says, and trails his fingers through Chris's hair. "I'm sorry I scared you. They weren't trying to harm me. They just - wanted to show me. Over-eager might be a good word for it..."
Thorne leans against Chris, lets him rest his head on his shoulder. He continues to play with his hair, wrapping his other arm around the other and humming a soft sweet tune in his ear.
"I don't know," Thorne admits, "I was lost. But I would have come back."
For you hung gently, unspoken in the air.
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 3:38 pm
call me home
Chris enjoys gardening and after well, everything, he's been a bit eager to throw himself back into it. There's something gratifying about being able to work with something living, to be able to sink his hands into the dirt and just feel connected to the earth. To be able to talk to the plants.
So it's been one of those days where Chris has been in and out, for awhile back at his parent's place to tend that garden, then his own place, and now finally back at Thorne's. He's finished up watering the collection outside and is inside, tired and sweaty and kind of wanting a nap but he has to water the rest before he can even think about taking a shower.
He's made his way over to the ivy and gives it a gentle pat and some water. It responds in kind with a happy feeling, and Chris smiles, looking around at the rest of the plants. "If only you could help me water the rest of these guys," He sighs, turning to analyze exactly what there is for him to water. He loves Thorne's plants most of the time, but today he's just tired. Sighing, he turns back to get the watering can he was using.
Behind him, holding the watering can, is a small child.
She comes up to no higher than Chris' knee and is dark skinned, green hair that looks distinctly like the ivy he just watered twisted up into a bun. Her outfit is a plain white dress and her eyes, matching the color of her hair, give Chris an incredibly curious look.
Chris, in all his bravery, screams in surprise.
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 4:26 pm
call me home
Thorne is washing and cleaning the new tattoo he'd added to himself the day before when he hears Chris scream. His jump is violent, knee banging into one of the open drawers in the bathroom. The washcloth falls to the sink, clotted with run-off color, and Thorne swears as he bolts out of the room and into the cavernous expanse of Coalsmoke itself.
"Chris!" he says, shouts.
But he slides to a stop, skidding, when he sees Chris, entirely unharmed, and a small child holding a watering can in front of him.
He doesn't really realize he has started skidding though until he hits the back of the couch, until the beauty of the moment is ruined by Thorne running straight into the furniture and yelling as he falls head over a** right over the back, onto the cushions, and off onto the floor in a glorious heap.
"Chris," Thorne gasps again, staring upside down at the blond from his position on the floor, now that it has been realized that no real danger is here. "I do not, in any way, mean to alarm you, but are you aware you've... adopted... a small child?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 4:53 pm
call me home
Chris isn't entirely aware he's garnered Thorne's alarm until he comes tumbling over the couch, landing on the floor in a glorious heap and upending most of the clothing and couch cushions.
He stares at Thorne in alarm, then scowls at his question.
"I didn't! She just appeared," Chris hisses at him, turning back to the child who has leveled both of them with a rather amused look, judging both of them heavily.
"For the record, you were the one who called me," She says, her voice a whisper, sounding clearly unused. For all that she talks, it feels more like she's projecting the majority of her voice into Chris' (and possibly Thorne's for all he knows) head and it's slightly unnerving. "You wanted help watering the other plants."
Chris gapes at her for a moment, pieces coming together. "Are you the spirit of the ivy?"
She levels him with a rather flat, unamused look this time. "Yes."
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 5:11 pm
call me home
Thorne looks at Chris, his eyes wide but not in alarm. He looks at him like he is puzzling together a question that doesn't add up. But the situation doesn't really call for violence - far from it, it seems, and Thorne can't help a bubble of helpless laughter roiling through his throat.
"Are you sure."
He rolls over onto his stomach, stretches himself up like a cat. He blinks at the child, picking himself up and walking over with slow, languid steps.
"Hello," he says to the child, warmly.
To Chris, he says, "So then, I was wrong." He pauses, wicked, and adds, "You've adopted a spirit child. I'm sorry I didn't make that distinction before. If this goes south, I'm filing for custody. I am the far superior cook in this relationship."
To the child, he adds, "Want to water plants together?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 5:26 pm
call me home
The glare Chris levels Thorne could probably at some point be used to melt metal, with the intensity of it. If the spirit wasn't around, it would probably catapult them into another argument.
"Yes, I'm sure!"
The ivy spirit on blinks at Thorne before shuffling over to Chris, behind his leg. "Hello," She says quietly, shyly. She hadn't expected the other person to actually say hello.
Chris glances down at her, smoothing a hand through her hair in comfort. It feels a little like the ivy she came from. Chris only heaves a sigh in Thorne's direction. "You only think you're the superior cook because you also bake, I can bake too you know. I just don't like to."
The spirit shuffles behind Chris' leg for a second and then, after an encouraging look and gentle press from Chris, comes forward. She studies him for a second with green eyes, then says, "Sure. I'm Heddy, what's your name?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 6:04 pm
the stars who listen
"Hey," Thorne says, one night when he is curled on the couch, Chris's legs thrown over him. He plays with one of the others feet to catch his attention, sliding a finger up against the bony structure of his ankle. Outside, the deep orange of sunset sits like a beacon on the edge of the world. The rest of the world is in stasis. A breath being held.
He pauses, clutching words between his teeth. And then, hesitantly, he says, "I have to go to New York."
It had come in two neatly worded emails, only a few days prior. One was his brother. Family business. One was an inquiry about moving one of his recent exhibitions to a larger venue. He would have to go there for the opening, if nothing else. To smile and pretend that the person he'd been a year ago when it had premiered was still who he was now.
He looks up at Chris, sucks in a breath.
"I want you to come with me."
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 6:33 pm
the stars who listen
Chris is reading a book when Thorne requests his attention, fingers against his feet that are socked and currently residing in his lap. He has half a blanket thrown over his legs despite wearing a cardigan and he feels calm. Relaxed, in this world of theirs.
"What's up?" He asks, sliding a bookmark into place and closing his book. Something in Thorne's voice sounded serious and he wanted to give him his full attention.
He feels like the earth is being pulled out from under him when Thorne says he has to go to New York.
Realistically, Chris knows it's not that big a deal and he shouldn't be like this, but he's a selfish creature. He likes having Thorne around, having his quiet company. Likes that he can put his legs on Thorne and can stay in Coalsmoke and that Bergie likes to be here. For him to go.. Chris is almost afraid that he'll not be allowed to come back. Irrational, but still a fear.
He looks at Thorne and he's about to ask - something, anything. But Thorne's next works surprise even Chris and he blinks for a second, confused.
"You - you want me to come with you?" He asks, "Are you sure? I mean, I would love to but. Why?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 7:09 pm
the stars who listen
Thorne watches, careful, because he feels like this is a new territory, a new place. And he's - not afraid, never afraid, because Chris is a safe place that he comes back to. Because he can fight with Chris over banana bread and plant children and still have quiet nights like this, where it is nothing but the simple sound of them breathing in time with one another, limbs overlapping, minds in sync.
Thorne runs a finger against the inside of Chris's foot, along the curve, thoughtless. So much of his affection was rooted in touch. So much of it ran in unspoken ways.
"Why?" Thorne echoes, surprised.
Truthfully, he had expected an uncertain answer or a gentle no. He had not expected Chris to simply say yes, to then ask why, as though the answer was not obvious. He shuffles a bit, leaning closer, laying his head against the top of the couch so that the long tresses of his bangs spread across them.
"Because I - want to remember what is to be just me. And I want to know what it's like to be with you like that without any magic, without anything else, if only for a little bit - " And the enormity of his words halts him in his tracks, pulls him into a spiral and for the first time in a long time, his ears warm slightly. He hadn't thought this conversation through.
It was so impulsive that he didn't know where to go.
"Of course I'm sure," he sidetracks, cuts off, and smiles, "There's no one else I would rather ask."
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