|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 09, 2022 3:27 am
He was there, an exhausted, bedraggled thing, so tired his eyes were leaking (because he wasn't crying, he insisted), but still stubbornly awake. He sat on the coffee table, quietly, as he often did. It must've been noon or one by his estimation; he heard Waru bustling in the kitchen.
Eion hadn't announced himself. He simply appeared, briefly, as Faustite, and pulled on Eion's skin like an old pair of slacks. He was sure to be quiet, lest the boy was concentrating on something. Eion didn't trust him with knives; one well-intentioned interruption and he was as likely to lop off three of his own fingers as he was to stab the surprise visitor.
Deciding he didn't want a knife thrown at him, he thought he would wait. And as he waited, the chill of Eion's less-than-impressive homeostasis encroached, and he leaned forward to snatch a throw off the couch. This was wrapped about himself in short order, but he found that the throw was cold, too.
So he added another. Then a third, because throws were short, and his legs were getting colder for every minute his flocked tights touched the glass.
Soon, he was simply a drape of fabrics with a head sticking out. He'd used one like a hood, so only his face peeped out from the mass. Then he caught the pleasant smells from the kitchen, and his stomach growled in that familiar-unfamiliar way, but he told himself to wait, because he didn't want to be showered with knives.
He sighed petulantly.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 09, 2022 8:57 am
Cutting boards were for cutting, not counters, not even when he was feeling tired and lazy! It’d only taken the once to learn that lesson, and man it was a surprise n a half to see what a good knife could do to a countertop. It’d made him invest in wood over plastic. Thick blocks for cleavers, meat, bones, boards that could take a cut and some carelessness. A small part of him wanted to own actual whet stones; not that he’d know how to do anything with them properly, but still? It was the thought of finding some new methodical way to make what he had *good*, that counted.
Because he could 'Make things Good' - even if it was only a little bit at a time. With sweet soy and chili garlic (the one with the rooster on it), because he could’ve eaten that with a spoon straight from the jar. Oxtail, chelow, and - <******** celery - empty caloried crunchy water stick that it was. No, he’d use tomato and root vegis, that was the way to go. That was what made him think of his mom; how she would’ve scolded him for choosing potato’s over cassava, but he’d always hated the bitterness of it. So —
The sigh from behind had him choking on chili spice, and swiping hot broth from his chin. The sudden knowledge of being unalone --- would it have been rude to kill an intruder with a dirty knife? Maybe...possibly...
Waru peeked instead, slowly peered out into his living-space, brows climbing the everest of his brow, when he spied a fabric pile that hadn’t been there before. His throws were haunted, like the rest of his rack-shamble home. He could only hiss silent woes for being, yet again, faced with the unknown, and one step closer to calling an exorcist…for the third time this year…
(The third one was free, they'd promised.)
Except there was something familiar about that sigh? The shape of the blankets, the way a bit of black tuft and silken curl poked free of what Waru could only assume was a face-hole left for breathing purposes. So, maybe not haunted, because ghosts didn't need to breathe except in movies?
It must've been a blanket monster then! The most finicky of foes.
Waru was wary about his approach, brought food to bear like a knight brought shields; just in case the mound had a mouth and teeth beneath that. Filled a fat ceramic mug labeled 'witches brew' halfway with rich ox-tail stew - shoved a wooden spoon in it for good measure.
One never knew if blanket monsters had manners enough for utensils...
It was sometimes better to feed them by hand, even.
"Hey," soulful earthen eyes that lingered, spied streaks of mess and telltale puffy pinkness that rimmed choal, left the state of Eion's visage uncommented upon in favor of "say awwhhh." He crouched carefully before the chenille and microfiber wrapped beast, blew ever so gently over a spoonful of stew - before offering it to the hole "S'good, n it'll warm you up."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 09, 2022 7:00 pm
And the weather forecast for the hour was: clear skies, with a twenty percent chance of knives.
No, he realized as he looked up through a tiny break in the folds, this was a zero percent chance of knives. Coal blinked up, Reddish and overspent on awakeness, then shifted to the bowl in hand, then back up to the mouth talking to him like a —
"What. The ********." Eion, novice blanket monster, shifted his arms about as he searched for breaks in the folds. Took him longer than a minute — he must've wrapped a few too tightly — until he freed a spindly hand and used it to pull the hood-throw down behind his head. His hair was mussed, yet thoroughly animated with each twitch of his head.
He glanced at the spoonful, then glanced at Waru, and he wasn't sure if he was dreaming awake or not. He leaned forward, took the end of the spoon into his mouth, bit down, and sucked the contents off of it. Hot, rich, flavorful smooth — all unsurprising for Waru's cooking. He'd likely eat the whole pot of it if he could; he imagined, though, that Waru actually wanted to eat once in a while, perhaps just to stay alive, so it was better that he didn't.
He didn't release the spoon. He guarded it jealously, teeth sunken into the wood thing, before he held up an index finger.
Then he pulled the spoon out of his mouth and used it as a gesturing tool. "Can't sleep," he said, as if it were some revelation. As if the whole team didn't know, already, that their fiery boss seldom made it past 11AM without planning for it. "Keep thinking about one dumb ******** question.
"How're we supposed to get married?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 10, 2022 3:59 am
Waru pouted, only for a moment, at having his spoon stolen. Gave a half-aborted 'hey', for that, because he'd wanted to wrest the thing from Ei's teeth and feed him properly. He'd settle for playing cup bearer a moment more though. Especially since it meant he could casually sip the seasoned oil slicked surface from the edge of the cup before offering it up a bit closer to Ei's command hand.
"Blanket monsters need sustenance in order to snark. This is youma one-oh-one, Ei." half-ended comment tossed lazily into the air, all warm buffer for the wired burr of his boy. Eion looked three steps from mania - from panic - from being wrangled as a whole pile into Waru's bed; all the chances at exhausting him in better ways than letting him continue to run on chewing at the aglets of his thoughts....They were very important thoughts though. Those of his boy. Fiancé. Husband. That word loomed, bred anticipation, thrilled, but how to achieve its end piece? "Oh - s**t - I hadn't even ******** considered..." loose deep chuckle, because surely the ring and the announcement of such was enough? He didn't care if it was written in the sky, on his skin, kept a private affair...
He wasn't sure he could keep a secret that quiet, though. Not like Aqua and Jet had - the way they loved so close to the vest in public, even though it was obvious to every eye that they were 'together'. He was too careless with every word to not ever say the things!
"How do you want -- no -- huhmn. How about, we start on the small things? Venue, menu, attendees...." he was sure all their pictures would be on cell phones and tablets, all their attire thrifted or made by friends. "Do you want people to know we're married...like...uhm..the certified kind?" A long slow blink that steadily tracked the spoon's waggling, because he hadn't considered that either. If they made it legal - official in the human way - if they kept it something of their agency as powered others. Buried in the rift, talked of through the citadel?
"Its a lot..." he realized, flushed for being so vastly unconcerned with details that weren't 'I love you, you're mine, here's the shiny, soap covered proof of it!' "....just..a lot..." and then he grabbed for the spoon when it waggled a hair closer.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 11, 2022 9:28 am
Eion glowed, half-lidded, "Enlightening lecture." He busied himself with the proffered bowl while Waru did what Waru wanted to do, which was usually either continuing to tease him, occupying parts of his body, or running his mouth about senseless inanity. In this case, it was the third, and Eion knew he could abort his thought processes to focus on eating.
Because it was good, and it always impressed Eion how delectable and flavorful food could be when it wasn't overcooking the moment it touched his tongue.
And then he hissed, gently, when his tongue touched another spoonful. Another surprise: soup was hot when he wasn't youma. He was ever learning that lesson, though; it seldom sank in.
So he paused, wince plastered all over his face, spoon still in hand, and his tongue-fried brain realized that Waru was speaking sense for once. And he he'd been only half-listening.
Terrible. They were starting to turn into each other.
So he relaxed into his blankets, thoughtful, spoon still trapped in his teeth. He used to have ready answers to all of these things, but that was back when he was human. When he was making lists of boys he crushed on, liked, would marry. When he was dreaming of marriage locations and special, secret little proposals in a California orchard, nipping away on his parents' boat to spend the day with the boy of choice. Back then, it was only one boy, because That's What Was Done.
Then, finally, he took it out, and began gesturing again with the end of the finely spit-washed spoon. "Easiest first. The certificate — don't need it. Law doesn't mean anything to me. 'Eion' isn't real, but Waru…" He cocked his head, drew a couple circles in the air with the spoon. "You've a family, friends, history — legal and social. Think you can only get legally married to one person, right? Save that chance." Because Waru might find someone human who was equally marriageable.
"Venue," he started, then snorted with a slight smirk. Could he dream of romance again? What would it do to give that side of him a second chance? He looked toward the ceiling, straining to recall the wedding of which he used to dream, as if the answer was written there. "Mandalay? No — Monterey beach, summertime, sunset. Wooden gazeboes built into the and, decorated with those mason jar candles. Scooped basins in the sand, filled with seawater, tea lights floating on top."
Then his attention returned to the boy. "Waru, I'm youma. Can't do a wedding in three hours. Venue choices are the Citadel or sunken city, assuming that gets approved. Which it won't."
"Don't know about food. Usually stole takeout orders from different restaurants. No one questioned it." He shrugged, and then the spoon was out of his hand.
"b*****d," he muttered, and reached for the spoon.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 11, 2022 12:25 pm
"Brat," the spoon snatched, and waru's triumphant grin spread across his face. He leaned back enough to ladle more, to blow over it gently. Would he be lying to say he didn't wish to dote? To coddle? That every now and then he wanted Eion to keep a tongue he could taste with, and to feed him slow enough that he could savor the look of his joy "leme feed you for five seconds, least till it cools *enough* for you to chug it without chewing."
"Though? For the love of god consider chewing - it's oxtail Ei, there's cartilage in here sometimes." a pot, more, hunks of proteins that he could cleave down into portion-able bits. Husbands did those things, didn't they? Kept their spouses fed. He didn't know that Eion could gain -- could age -- could...
He could be happy though, couldn't he? Could he give him happiness? He was excited to try.
"Youmas can have honeymoons in Monterey, or Cameroon, or..." and he'd leave the idea of him marrying anyone else, human or otherwise, an untouched thing. He wouldn't scoff at the idea, because he cared for paper as little as he did for flashy custom rims on classic cars - one wasn't necessary for the others function. His marriage could exist between them, ******** the state entirely. "...anywhere, really? They can have summer weddings, too, and at sunset? Sure. The Undergrounds equivalent of that --- we'll get it approved." prizing out ideas with the lure of treats, the sweet sugar loveliness of it all. Waru wanted to coo, to weep for moments lost.
They'd have those too, though. They had friends, connections, and Waru knew he could be oh so very convincing when he absolutely needed to be.
"I can manage food. Just need a type -- a schmorgusborg if you want it -- now 'awwh' -- I'll give you the pot to lick clean when we finish this." sass and tease as he angled the spoon just back within his boys grasp.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 11, 2022 1:46 pm
"I was chewing." The spoon. He was chewing the spoon. The spoon earned a few extra dents by the time it changed hands.
He huffed, fidgeted under the blankets and had to rearrange his legs to compensate. He hadn't sat still for so long in a while; he wasn't the sedentary type when fire was boiling him from the inside out, but that translated to constant activity as Eion, too.
It had been an age since he had to balance all the whims of being human, and he didn't remember it being such a trouble before. He should eat hot things to warm up, but the hot things couldn't be too hot, so he had to let them cool, but how long would he let them cool before they became too cold to warm him up? It was a trite challenge, one on which he didn't like to waste brainpower. Good and considerate of Waru to take up that burden for him; perhaps it was one of a few things he could manage, successfully, on his own.
While he struggled to relent, to allow caretaking, he forced himself to let go of it. Resigned to sit quiet, legs folded however they would stay, and open his damn mouth so Waru could play at a level of domesticity that felt foreign to Eion for how normal and mundane it was. He struggled to chew, still, and choked on a piece of cartilage that prompted a coughing fit. He spat it back up, chewed it this time, and swallowed it again. Then coughed. Twice.
"Can they?" He considered it — the Negaverse branches in different areas of the world had only a fraction of the problem that Destiny City had, didn't they? With such control over their areas, wouldn't it be sensible to assume that youma had more freedom there? Maybe he'd be mistaken for a beach bonfire wherever they went, or the local Infiltration branch would take care of a cover story for him. Likely not, but he hoped there were getaways where youmafied officers could enjoy a margin more of the life they left behind.
Eion frowned as a thought crossed his mind. "Where are you from, anyway? Cryolite mentioned something about it. Can we go there?" Where did Waru begin, and who did he grow up with? What were his formative experiences? He knew the boy as he was now, but not the prior Warus that were prototypical to this one.
And he knew of Praxidike, but that was a version of Waru that could stay dead.
"Smorgasbord," he corrected. "Swedish." Which meant that Lauri hated it, and Eion only knew it because Schörl forced the Finn to speak Swedish forevermore. "Can eat anything. Goes in the grate if I don't like it."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 11, 2022 10:04 pm
Waru made such a face for the coughing, the briefest roll of eyes and lopsided smile that followed, cause he’d warned him!! Should’ve let him chew the wood until he caught splinters! Gnawing little — orally fixated — he was in love with a heathen. Hyper-intelligent feast for the eyes, but the table manners of a feral dog. Not that Waru was any better half the time, he knew, he’d just have to learn to accept these extra things. Personable quirks that he could maybe, occasionally tweak, and habits of his own he might have to cure, or not? It’d be a thing to learn as they went along.
“Just cause you have an open fire and no gag reflex, doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you swallow the silverware whole, or? Feed you things you don’t like.” Feeding the fires and calorie cramming for survival? It was fine. He got it. Didn’t make it any less a b***h to scrub all those delicate bits clean after — and his ego demanded Faustite enjoy at least the food at his own wedding. “At this rate I’m gonna aim for Ethiopian fare — everything will be finger foods. The plates’ll be injera - the bowls’ll be stone, just, literal ******** pitted rocks.” he laid the tease on thick, paid for it by not knowing how to say the word even if Faustite pronounced it so prettily. Shmorg—schitzel?
“They can keep their long-a** word for buffet….Mmh? My-oh! Sy’ knows cause he’s a nosy b*****d…helped me figure out a better way to get calls n gifts home …but…my Moms South Sudanese, moved to Cameroon before she had me. I was born on a beach there.” and he was surprised with himself, that he was able to remember to blow softly on the spoonfuls of stew before offering them up to his boys slowly unraveled form. Features soft in remembering, in admiring downright cute way Eion wrestled himself free.
“Kribi, s’real touristy, all warf fare n waterfalls.” and if he stole a bite for himself before relinquishing the rest.He hadn’t even considered…
“We could go — we’ve got myths for everything from bush spirits to Miengu; what’s a few about fire to worry over? ******** could meet…” *everybody*, he could take his boy *home*! Could suck it up and just — “.…they’d love you. Heh, my sisters’ll laugh at my mixed a**, bringing back a pretty thing like you? We could spend the nights out, see how that end of the world manages all these things. I forget how different Dc is sometimes, yanno?”
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 13, 2022 3:32 pm
After a few residual coughs (and an unidentified piece flew out of his mouth), Eion furrowed his brows. Clicked his tongue, hissed in a breath. "Don't know what I would eat. Something undercooked? Raw? Most things burn when I start chewing." Those that didn't were things he shouldn't have been chewing to begin with — pens, his knuckle, aluminum tops to opened cans. The other, more questionable things — cockroaches, owl pellets, house siding — didn't burn quite the same.
Eion thought briefly on the idea of pitted rocks for bowls. That was fine, he supposed, he worked with less, but what if the rocks were heavy? Would any guests complain?
… Would they get guests? Could they? The thought thrilled him, that anyone would think it worth their time to show, but he didn't know whether to start with an invitation list or the myriad other tasks that went with wedding planning. He was sure a fourteen-year-old version of him would've known.
He tried to eat better, less messily, but he often sent the broth dribbling down his chin. Used the back of his hand to wipe it off. He nodded as he chewed (for longer, this time), and tugged his phone out when Waru mentioned Cameroon. His phone was dead, however, and he haphazardly flopped the brick of technology onto the coffee table.
Waru was born on a beach, in a tourist town? And he had sisters.
… Eion doubted they could reach Cameroon in under three hours. Couldn't teleport there, either. Seemed marriage while part youma grew more complicated with each question he asked, and now he was more tired and more uncertain about what was possible.
Balancing the balls of his feet on Waru's knee, Eion leaned against his throw-swathed thighs. "Maybe," he murmured, "but logistics." And he was certain he missed a few problems along the way. Then he looked up at Waru and — no, they had to devise a way to get out there. Couldn't pass up an expression like that.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 13, 2022 6:11 pm
Such an absolute - and he couldn't resist mothering his boy a little. Swiping a clean thumb over whatever Eion missed with the back of his hand, catching a corner of red-flecked oil with it. Licking it clean himself, because who cared for sharing at this point? All his, n his, n theirs combined."Oooh, that's a ******** idea! I like it - imagine hotplates at every table, people can cook their own meat! The rest'll be vegetarian, dippable breads. Easy enough to get cooked up 'en masse. Like, chutneys? Lentil stews. Stuff that can taste good with a bit of char on 'it. Mmph, beets n potato's -- it's all so damn good."
Waru could smell it now, all the rich spices, side sauces, and it was a hell of a thing to consider, venue, people, invitations? He didn't know half about how to do any of those things -- could ask though - did he know married couples? Whatever, the internet existed, and there was nothing he intended for them that would fly even halfway close to 'normal'. <******** logistics, we'll find a way to get us there. A boat - s'bout a month of travel? A cargo plane..hmn, four-ish days? Though, it probably isn't ideal for open flames and passenger planes takes at least a full day?" Waru wracked his brains, realized they had people who'd come from places. Sovereigns, the whole damn nine. "There's gotta be some Negaverse owned companies out there that would ferry us along --- people here who know people there." whatever the case he wasn't about to give up, his thinking made even more obvious by the way his lip ended caught between incisors, something to teethe on -- before shifting his focus entirely.
They'd find a way to plan it out eventually. A nice long trip could come after...
"D'you want music...or...Who d'you want to come? We'll whip up ideas for the honeymoon later on, yeah? We can get guest lists now that we've got a location and menu in mind. I never even thought about whether you'd have a favorite song or not. Never considered any of this stuff really, not till you." the softness for that, as he settled into being a living ottoman. The companionable familiarity and warmth of being just under heel. Cozy quietude of having Eion curled up and looking exhaustedly cuddly before him...
He made sure to make extra annoying plane sounds as he brought another spoonful of food to bare, scrapped the rapidly disappearing edges to get all the extra goodness of skim onto the spoon.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 14, 2022 6:52 pm
All this talk of food and Eion was only getting hungrier. Knew Waru wanted to keep him clean, tried his best for it, and probably didn't want oxtail stew all over his clean throws, but nothing about Eion was clean. He reached for the bowl, wanted to stuff himself while Waru enjoyed the wag of his own tongue.
A month at sea — the thought hurt, conjured up a pining he thought he buried. Sailing was how he learned that romance and horror weren't altogether separate; what there was to love was what there was to fear. The great, deep, unknowable blue. The tang of salt on the air, wind in his hair, and the warm song of the sea to while away his days. Pages and pages of novels, private collections, chapbooks. Projects half-carved into driftwood that he rescued from the beach.
"Maybe Taenite knows someone." The thought was automatic. He might; he was self-impressed enough to use others for labor. Might score a favor out of it — a favor Eion wouldn't mind paying.
They'd get their month of coming home, too. But could they both afford to be gone for that long?
"Music?" And he paled as he looked at Waru, feeling more and more out of his element. "Don't know." He hadn't thought about music. Hadn't heard it for years when he was in the Rift, and he'd gotten so used to youma roars and silence that it hardly seemed necessary to find songs anymore. It was something demonstrably human, in the way that weddings were, too.
And guests -- he'd have to detangle his complicated list of contacts if he wanted to think about that.
He sighed out his exasperation. Tears crept in and let themselves out. "Think that's enough for now." Guest lists, music, venues, clothes, and he couldn't purge the overwhelmed from his face. Couldn't keep his eyes open, either, for how adrenaline was finally giving in.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 14, 2022 7:34 pm
"Mmh, Ren for Travel n' maybe Haru for Songs?" wracked his brain for asks of people who he knew did various things. A bevy of lists full of names he could track down - any number of friends he'd made over years who'd have answers on end, and 'pick-a-ways' to help him plan the minutiae out. Eion's exhaustion loomed, such a shadowy thing, and Waru couldn't miss the way it left splotchy bruises under his boys eyes. All those little flinches of barely withheld panic for the vast unknowns he had a bad habit of asking after.
"You think of any wants, then you ask." stole the spoon for his own mouth and worried the rest from it with soft chomp and swipe of tongue, caught the edges of spill before setting it aside, then abandoned the rest to the floor in a careless clatter so he could catch Eion in a hug. Wide biceps and curled fingers. He made a cage. Folded all those thin bones contorted neath swaths of blankets into his lap, into a heap upon the floor. Solid thoughts of *mine* for that. Greedy habits, to claim the lover he so readily shared as *his*, even if only for a few hours more. To claim him *husband*, a sort of selfishness Waru couldn't help but smile for; even as he found places high on Eion's cheeks to kiss fresh salt from.
"N the rest? We'll figure out as we go, Ei. M'not so easily thrown by missing details, yeh? Can do without one..the other...cause the most important part of all of this," and Ei's lips were just as easy to press a soft smile into, a better kiss, all tired joy, well fed. "Of anything that happens going forewords? S'you. Not the food, or the venue, or the people...just you."
To get more food or not? To 'now' or to 'later'? Everything was later, suddenly.
"Now! It's nap time, n when you're up? I can watch you lick that whole ******** pot clean..." he didn't care if they sprawled in the dirt, on tin sheets, on his half-swept floor. Waru wiggled enough that he could play a bed of beef, put his body full of youth to work for for a good cause. N' Eion's comfort? Was the goodest of causes, especially when he could tangle his fingers in dark curls, touch them - just because. All while he wrangled the throws into a better shape around their forms.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|