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 Posted: Sun Aug 29, 2021 6:09 pm
A long time ago, Faustite had tried the bus system as Eion. Found out quickly that one couldn't simply board and take a seat, and was directed to one of the self-serve kiosks that wouldn't take his debit card. He'd spent some time trying to figure out the machine, finally got mad at it, kicked the damn thing and nearly broke his toe before a stranger tried to help him. Together they deduced that Eion's debit card was expired.
Since then, Eion's public transit was Faustite's teleportation, so he blinked himself in the correct neighborhood according to Apple Maps. Slipping down into an alleyway between two tall fences, in the eve just before its street lamps would turn on, Faustite gave way to Eion and Eion's phone. He walked forward, staring determinedly at his phone, waiting anxiously for the little blue dot marking his position to move. When it finally did, it moved away from his destination. Frowning, Eion turned around.
He covered his erroneous distance and then some, and made it out of the alley by the time the lamps lit. It was easier to see, then, though he realized he had no idea where to look for address numbers on any of the houses. He relied only on Apple Maps directing him to the correct place, anxious that it wouldn't leave him on the neighbor's doorstep.
He'd walked past the house when Maps failed to update in real time, then backtracked to what Apple thought was the correct location. Up some steps he went, in the building, through its halls, then he stood at the door for a long minute, watching his phone for any last-second updates. When it had settled on this location and no other, and he double-checked the apartment number against what he had saved, Eion reached to knock.
Then paused. Knocking was what they always did in the Negaverse, but what if real people rang doorbells? He reached for the doorbell, hesitated, then pressed it. Waited. Swallowed some sour spit.
Heard someone come out of their apartment down the hall, and Eion turned out of habit. Some guy in a tank top and shorts, stretching, getting tugged down the hall by a leashed dog. Eion looked down at himself. Two jackets, frocked leggings, Vans. Didn't look much for summer, he guessed. But if this was Yuuri's apartment and Yuuri answered the door, it wouldn't matter.
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Posted: Tue Aug 31, 2021 8:31 am
Yuuri did not answer the door. Something about talking to strangers made Yuuri anxious enough that Misha worried he’d be sick to his stomach, so Misha tried to be accommodating when he could.
Thus, it was Misha’s smiling face that answered, looking out at the newcomer in greeting. Seconds of silence passed as confusion took hold and creased his brow, eased the upward curve of his mouth to something lower, more pensive. They weren’t expecting anyone, not food delivery or packages, or any of Lev’s work associates (Lev never gave them the descriptor of “friend”), which left scant few reasons for anyone to stop at their door.
“Hello,” Misha said, scanning the figure from head to toe.
Wasn’t he sweltering in that outfit? Maybe not inside, where the air ran cool enough that Misha’s leggings and oversized sweatshirt were comfortable. But outside, in the heat and humidity?
“Are you lost?” he asked. It wouldn’t be the first time someone got the wrong apartment number.
The longer Misha stared, the more he thought there was something familiar about the stranger. Not in any way that made him certain they’d met before, but like the stranger resembled someone he knew, only he couldn’t figure out who that might be.
“Do you work with Lev?” Too short to be a model, but… maybe a stylist, or one of the random hangers on at a shoot? “He’s out right now, but I can let him know you stopped by.”
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Posted: Tue Aug 31, 2021 10:38 am
Yuuri did not answer the door. And he would not be answering the door again any time soon. Not after the last time he opened the door and found a General King’s civilian form standing there waiting for him with a smile and fancy French cake that probably took him hours to make. He would not be making that same mistake again. If the takeout showed up and Misha was in the shower then they could just stand there or take it back with them and they could order food again.
For now, Yuuri was hiding in the bedroom. He heard someone ring the bell and he immediately scurried off the couch to find somewhere safe to hide. He was tempted to lock the door behind him, but curiosity always seemed to get the better of him, and he peeked through the crack to try and see who Misha was talking to.
But he couldn’t see who they were. Someone lost? Was that what he heard? Or someone who worked with Lev? Either way, Yuuri tugged the hood of his hoodie over his head, and anxiously pulled at the drawstrings, as if that would make him feel better. Really, it just gave him something to fuss with.
He did really want to see who Misha was talking to though. He would just have to ask once Misha shooed them away.
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Posted: Tue Aug 31, 2021 3:02 pm
Eion scrutinized the boy that talked to him. Slight thing like Yuuri was, liable to blow away in a strong wind, or tuck between the cracks of a cliffside in the Rift to be missed by all the youma. But this one was blonde, and social enough to say hello, and make suppositions about who Eion was here to meet. Eion had four immediate thoughts.
His first thought: he must have gotten the address wrong.
Eion looked down at his phone, at the address displayed, and could no longer see the room number on account of this stranger standing in front of it.
His second thought: Yuuri gave him the wrong address.
If Yuuri wanted to avoid him forever, Eion couldn't hold that against him with good cause. Kamacite put up with him in the Rift, put up with him for leading that entire venture, put up with him for his private little excursion that went nowhere and solved nothing. If Yuuri wanted to avoid him, he should give his friend a rest. Let him have his space. Let him move on with his life.
But Eion was weak, and stupid, and lonely. He wasn't good at making friends, didn't know how. He needed his friend, his only friend. "Does Yuuri live here?"
His third thought: Yuuri dyed his hair.
No.
His fourth thought: Yuuri changed his glamour.
… Unlikely.
But he'd text to be sure. Found Yuuri in his messages while occasionally glancing up at the blonde one. Wrote quickly — DID YOU CHANGE YOUR GLAMOUR? Sent. Waited.
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Posted: Tue Aug 31, 2021 6:55 pm
“Oh…” Misha said, eyes going wide — wider — with surprise. “Yeah, Yuuri lives here.”
Then he tipped his head and scrutinized the stranger a bit more closely. Up and down his gaze swept, seeking whatever little telltale signs might clue him in to the stranger’s identity.
Something about the voice was familiar, maybe, but Misha couldn’t immediately place it. He didn’t know anyone who knew Yuuri outside of the Negaverse, which made his thoughts drift in that direction, but the only other person Yuuri really talked to was…
… oh.
Misha folded his arms over his chest, leaned against the doorframe, made himself comfortable as his smile returned. The subtle narrowing of his eyes made the look slightly less friendly than before. He considered throwing out the first name that came to mind, but decided he’d rather string their guest along instead.
“Are you one of the friends that abandoned him?” he asked, peppy and bright, like they were discussing something less miserable than abandonment. “Or his boyfriend, maybe? He never said he had a boyfriend, and you don’t look like his type. Not that I know what his type is. Actually, I don’t even know if he’s into guys like that, but with all the bed sharing and not a single ‘no homo’ uttered, I kind of assumed…”
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Posted: Tue Aug 31, 2021 7:44 pm
Not wanting to be too nosey, Yuuri slipped back into the bedroom and decided to pace while he wanted for Misha to finish talking to whoever was at the door. Except he felt the front pocket of his hoodie vibrate, and he pulled it out to look at the ID, and then unlocked the phone to see the text.
And he stared at it for a long moment, before throwing his door open and hurrying over to where Misha was standing in the doorway.
“Eion, what are you doing here?” he gasped, staring around Misha’s shoulder as he struggled to loosen the now tightened hood so he could push it back from over his head.
“Are you okay? Um, Misha this is. Um…” Was it rude of him to tell Misha who Eion was? And vice versa? He felt like it was rude. “Um… Eion,” he ended with a quiet squeak.
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Posted: Tue Aug 31, 2021 10:18 pm
Ah. It was going to be like that. Guard dog wanted to grill him for anything he could find.
With time and a little distance from his personal failings, Eion might have seen such loaded questions as care for this stranger's friend — their friend. But as he stood there, listening, watching this one speak and all his little mannerisms, listening to the cadence of his voice, he thought the cadence was similar to another blonde he knew, and he felt that familiar tightness in his chest, felt it grow and feed off of every wasted word that fell from this one's face, and Eion turned and started to leave —
Heard Yuuri over top of him and stopped —
Turned and saw his friend standing behind that one. Would've assumed boyfriend, but the blonde one was already asking him about that, and most people only wanted one of those. Didn't know if Yuuri was the type, but he'd guessed not, what with how little his matchsticks friend made of hair and anxiety could stand any given meatbag. And who was the blonde? Eion didn't care. He was loud, confrontational, and in the way.
Eion hadn't known how to put his response into words, though. Thought about it, but hadn't thought about how to say it. Maybe he spent too much time with Albite, who only knew how to spend words recklessly. Maybe he spent too much time getting to know Nembus, who wanted to melt into the walls of any room and be forgotten about forever.
"Need to talk to you." It was the least damning thing he could say.
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Posted: Wed Sep 01, 2021 12:18 pm
Misha almost laughed, except that would probably be mean, and he didn’t make a habit of being mean. Instead, he wore another smile — amused this time — and rolled his eyes, playfully exasperated.
“So is that tough guy stuff all an act?” he said, genuinely curious. “You can dish it but can’t take it? I didn’t take you for the sensitive type.”
He certainly didn’t deem Eion safe, but Yuuri actually came to greet him and didn’t seem to mind his presence, so Misha had nothing against welcoming him, as long as he behaved. Stepping back, Misha opened the door a bit wider, glancing at Yuuri to judge by the expression on his face whether or not he wanted company.
Yuuri seemed confused, worried, but not anxious to slip away and hide.
Not at that very moment anyway.
“I know who he is,” Misha said, saving Yuuri the need to explain. “I just act like an airhead. That doesn’t mean I am one. You can come in, Eion,” he added, glancing at the boy who was usually Faustite, “so long as you’re here as a friend. Sorry for giving you a hard time. Last time a mission didn’t go so well, you slapped Yuuri across the face, so…”
He shrugged in a what do you expect sort of way.
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Posted: Wed Sep 01, 2021 5:47 pm
Yuuri was immediately concerned (even moreso) when Eion said he needed to talk to him. Something so important that he would show up at the apartment he stayed at with Misha? And Misha seemed to be making thing uncomfortable for Eion.
He glanced from one to the other, and then gasped at Misha’s comment about Eion slapping him. A hand lifted to cover his cheek, as though to hide the evidence that had long since faced, but he couldn’t stop the heat from rising in his cheeks.
“It’s not like that,” he squeaked nervously, eyes wide as he looked from Misha to Eion, wondering what he needed to do to keep Eion from probably running off.
So Yuuri reached out and grabbed for his friend’s hand so he could try and pull him into the apartment.
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Posted: Thu Sep 02, 2021 5:18 pm
Eion stared at (apparently) Misha, confused. Wasn't sure what tough guy stuff was, or what he had been doing that qualified. Didn't matter; this one formed a habit of insulting him, deriding him, and Eion found no reason to stay. He could find Kamacite some other time, hope that they could be without interruptive company. If he could find Kamacite alone; that's gotten harder with Cymophane always with him.
A halfassed apology, then another jab. The corner of his mouth twitched. Eion shoved a pale hand into his pocket, started along the bend of the corridor. Decided he'd find someone to drain, or start a fight. Starseed someone. Didn't matter which. Just needed to do, before —
he was tugged on, and that was ever a shocking thing. He was untouchable, usually. And Yuuri's hand felt cool, but not cold like it was if he were himself. Eion felt the texture of it whereas before he would melt the texture of it. All things bent to heat, but now? Nothing bent to meat. Strange thing, playing human.
But he was being dragged, and Eion had already decided that he didn't want to say anything around Misha. Wondered who he was in the vaguest sense, but as always, the glamour didn't look like anyone. Like whenever he tried to deduce who this scrawny firemouth was, a fog came over his thoughts. Clearly someone in the Negaverse if he knew about what happened with Kamacite. But that meant Yuuri told someone, which meant — would anything he said be held in any confidence? Eion's stomach soured.
Which was another feeling to which he wasn't accustomed.
There was no helping it; Eion tried to wrest his hand away. "Tell you later," he decided, suddenly in the mood to return to the Rift.
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Posted: Fri Sep 03, 2021 5:43 pm
“You don’t have to go,” Misha said, not quite apologetic, but more cordial than he was before. “If you need to talk to him, talk to him. I can make myself scarce. Just because I felt like giving you a hard time doesn’t mean I’m going to kick you out. If Yuuri wants you to stick around, you can stick around.”
Misha pushed himself off the doorframe, slipped back into the apartment, then poked his head back out the door.
“Maybe a peace offering? I can make you tea,” he offered. “I’d offer you some of the pastry Justice left, but I’m pretty sure that’s long gone. We’ve got some muffins, though, if you’d like one. Or two. Or however many. Unless you’re allergic to peanut butter. Or banana? Anyway, I’m sure we can find something else if you are. I promise I’ll behave as long as you do. Or I can leave, like I said.”
Was he curious about what Eion might want to say to Yuuri? Yes.
Was he going to pester Yuuri about it later if he didn’t get to hear it first hand? Also yes.
But even if he didn’t trust Eion to keep his violence to himself, Misha trusted Yuuri to make his own decisions.
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Posted: Fri Sep 03, 2021 7:51 pm
“Please don’t leave,” Yuuri quietly said, not willing to let go of Eion’s hand. Not willing to just let him go. Where would he go? Back into Negaspace? He’d taken the time to find him, to be there as Eion. And Yuuri knew that wasn’t something he could just do whenever he felt like it.
“Stay? Please?” he asked, although he was unhappy with how desperate he might have sounded. He cast a glance at Misha for his suggestions, and nodded in agreement.
“We do have tea. I just got some lavender tea you might like,” Yuuri offered, knowing Eion was partial to tea in general, and was relieved that Misha thought to offer some in Yuuri’s panic of not knowing what to do to convince his friend to stop from running away.
“Come in and sit down. If you’d like. You don’t have to worry about burning anything like this,” he reminded him, still unwilling to release his hold on Eion’s wrist. He would just grab onto his multiple jackets if he had to.
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Posted: Sat Sep 04, 2021 3:46 pm
Eion looked to Misha, silent, then to Yuuri, who was reluctant to release him back into the wild. Then both of them mentioned tea, and he rolled his eyes (at himself), having forgotten that his eyes were no longer limitless black. He'd always take tea. He'd been fooled by taking tea from someone once before, but he couldn't put together enough reasons to want to live that he could turn down tea from someone who quite obviously disliked him.
This was how Eion died. Poisoned tea.
He was always hungry, but he'd forgotten if it was more polite to accept food with the tea or to decline it. Didn't need manners in the Rift. "Okay," he conceded, both to the tea and to staying. "Anything's fine." If he had food allergies, he was certain his youma half disposed of them. Could eat anything now, except for the inedible. Didn't need to drink gasoline or eat wood, at least not yet.
Wasn't sure who Justice was, if he was Yuuri's boyfriend and made him a pastry or what, but he supposed he didn't need to know. Saw himself to a chair once his friend let him go, though he still wasn't sure what he was supposed to say or how he should say it. Never cared for social constructions, always tried to break them or go off the rails as a kid, but now he wished he learned the basics so he wouldn't have to stew in his own awkwardness.
Sat on his hands at first, then crossed his legs, then crossed his arms over a knee, then tried to sit flush against the chair, but he didn't like the feel of it against his back, so he slouched forward, and occasionally felt shockingly reminded that he was about to set the upholstery on fire, but as Yuuri already reminded him, he wasn't made of fire like this, and then he sighed at himself. And somewhere in that rigamarole, he tried to summon from subspace, held his hand out for it in expectation, but he couldn't access that, either — not without relinquishing his glamour. Sighed again.
His hand fell back into his lap, defeated. "Yuuri, I —" started to question himself, but pressed on. "Was mean to you." His attention found his useless hands.
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Posted: Mon Sep 06, 2021 8:09 am
The apartment was not overlage, but spacious, lit more from the bright lights overhead than the deepening dusk out the many windows. With the combination kitchen/living-area/dining-area, it was easy enough for Misha to keep an eye on Yuuri and Eion while he slipped between the counters to prepare tea.
He filled the kettle first, reached into one of the upper cabinets for a small collection of teas, including the lavender one Yuuri suggested. Misha grabbed some of the peanut butter banana muffins while waiting for the water to boil, offering them to Yuuri and Eion with another smile — and a watchful gleam to his eye.
Though he didn’t make a point to eavesdrop, there were no walls to separate them, so Misha heard what he assumed, for Eion, amounted to an apology.
Or the beginnings of one, anyway.
Misha nodded along, because Eion was right: he was mean to Yuuri. Not that Misha was aware of which instance he was referring to. There could have been many, for all he knew. Yuuri only said so much at any given time, and Misha, wary of digging up old demons, only pressed him so far.
Muffins deposited, Misha bounced his way back to the kettle.
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Posted: Tue Sep 14, 2021 7:01 pm
Yuuri let out an audible sigh of relief when Eion finally agreed to join them in the apartment. He let him pick a chair for himself, but Yuuri remained close, sitting next to him because Eion coming there was a big deal.
He sat somewhat awkwardly on the edge of his own seat, his knees hitting the coffee table. He was vaguely aware that Misha was going about his business, preparing tea for them and getting some muffins. He took one when it was presented to him, but Misha knew him well enough by now to know he didn’t smile. He did try to show him a somewhat strained expression of appreciation and quiet mumble of thanks, but he would have to make it up to him some other way.
And then Yuuri held his breath when Eion spoke, and then he was setting the muffin he held in his hands down, and he was getting up from the couch so he could reach out and hug his friend. He didn’t care if Eion was going through tough times. He still knew this was the same Eion that he thought he’d lost and then miraculously had back in his life.
It was probably really awkward, having to lean over the edge of the chair to give Eion a proper hug, but he held him anyway, arms wrapped around his shoulders to squeeze him tight.
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