vatheon | Wine hath drowned more men than the sea.

Entry tags:

Wine hath drowned more men than the sea.

Who: Summoner and who the heck ever
When: Late evening/very early morning
Where: Deep in the forest within the bubble
Style: Prose & action both welcomed
Status: Open

All right.

He needs a drink already.

Lysunder's been doing extremely well lately with not indulging in spirits, though he quite enjoys human liquor. He knows he shouldn't- but, damnit. He's been trying to talk to people, be his regular self, get out there, confide in those he can, granted it's a very small number, but it's not the same without him to speak to as they did when he first came here.

So now he needs a drink, and buzz off anyone that disagrees, it's not like it'll kill him-

Hopefully.

Summoner's hand curls around the bottle neck tight as he leans against a tree, ass to the grass and wings sloppily folded between he and the tree trunk. The red haired troll stares lazily at the dark canopy, watching to a smaller amount of animal eyes and usual, not communing with the creatures nearby as much while he sits there intoxicated.

"Sorry guys, but you ain't Pyral, eh, ya can fly but i's still not the same." A smirk, watching some small birds linger on a branch above before he swirls the bottle and moves it up to tip back and swallow. The burn is good by this point, he can barely feel it besides the warmth and he's having a hard time slowing everything down around him. Also good. He wants that. It helps him just sink down and enjoy the chill around him as he completely avoids thinking about his problems, even just for a few hours.

It's better to sometimes just sit and do nothing, right? Just not face your problems for a bit. Just... be.

Even if he really does know better.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, Darkleer knows the feeling. It's such a reassurance, being able to lean on someone so much and think that everything you do as guided by them, even if it is just the 'them' in your head, is completely right. It's a comfort that can rarely be found anywhere else. Sometimes, it's not always for the better. He had to learn that the hard way.

Holding Summoner closer, he just sighs into his hair. He can feel his SFC buzzing with a new message, but he holds off for a moment in replying to it.

"Don't rely on just one person. You'll just trap yourself into a narrow corridor of sorts. Find others to rely on, to consult. Expand your views. Things change. That must be understood." Tossing his SFC to the ground besides him, he keeps one arm around Summoner while typing out another response.

Lysunder stares idly at the SFC for a while, as if not sure what Darkleer is doing, and then realizing he doesn't much care because he has this wonderful person to curl up on, which he does a little more, his wings blanketing out more. His chest hurts a bit, and his face feels hot, partially from the alcohol, but mostly because thinking about this is really difficult.

"I don't- I shouldn't rely on anyone, but I know I rely on everyone." A hitch, pulling in a deep breath, fingertips lacing over various plates of Darkleer's armor.

"Change is good though, I wa-want change. But I don't enjoy this change at all."

Gently, he flicks a few strands of Summoner's hair. "I know. That much was obvious. But..." There's a brief pause as he decides on his example.

"You remember when you had to deal with your wings molting, didn't you? How they fell off, and then had to grow back again?"

"...Yes." Wow he doesn't want to think about that at all.

Hush, Summoner, he's going somewhere with this. For now, he just runs his fingers through his hair.

"It hurt. Obviously I don't need to tell you that. But when it grew back, you were all the better for it, weren't you? They got bigger, and stronger."

"...Yeah." Stare.

"That is what is happening here, in a metaphorical sense." Tilting Summoner's head up, he kisses him on the forehead. "Sometimes change hurts, but it becomes worth it in the end. Perhaps you'll understand a bit better when you're sober."

Another buzz, and he glances down at his SFC. The answer satisfies him. "At the very least, perhaps you will get things sorted out."

He gives Darkleer a long look, his eyes searching his face before he looks down and leans forward, nudging his chin near the corner of the other's neck.

"Okay. I hope you are right though." He doesn't notice his SFC going off though, it's probably for the best.

"Don't worry." He pets his hair again and uses his other hand to hold onto Summoner's hip. There won't be anymore texting for tonight. He's made his point, after all.

"If nothing else, I am here for you, Lysunder."

"I'm happy about that." A smile, a lazy one, sleepy with liquor, but a smile none the less.

"I'm sorry I can't be there for you for your forever."

Darkleer smiles back, but for him, it's more sad. Gently, he scratches the back of Summoner's ear.

"I'm used to losing people. It's okay."

"I really do not think that makes it okay." He pulls in a long sigh, closing his eyes and leans into the hand.

No, it kind of doesn't. But... "There's no other choice for me. Hush, for now. Just go to sleep, Lysunder." Hopefully the continued ear scritches will encourage that.

And he feels really bad about that. He feels really bad that he can't live very long, for so many reasons, and now not being there for Darkleer inturn is one of those reasons.

Lysunder curls up a bit more, sighing, keeping his eyes closed as he softly strings a hand through the other's hair, pulling out his hand, feeling the strands fall away from his skin.

"There are choices, and I don't want to sleep."

Choices? How on earth could there be choices? "Now I know you really are drunk," he sighs. Still, there's no denying how utterly lovely that hand feels. Stupid cheating Summoner. Closing his eyes, he leans into it.

Yeah, choices, those of which Darkleer doesn't want to hear Summoner say.

He snickers, combing through the other's hair again.

"How often do you cut it?"

Right now, he just wants to focus on the feeling of those fingers going through his hair. He's spent good portions of his lifetime worrying about losing people he cares about.

"Mmmm, usually when it goes past my shoulder blades, I trim it... I'm probably due right now..."

Probably for the best.

"What's the longest y-you've ever had it?"

A small hum as he thinks it over.

"Probably when I was a child. It used to go down past my hips when I didn't pull it back into a ponytail, or a bun.

"Wow... really?" Staring now.

A chuckle. "That's right. It probably went past further on more than one occasion, although my lusus often took matters into his own hooves when the mood suited him."

[Stare.]

[Stare back.]

What?

"You should do it again."

"Grow out my hair until it reaches my hips?" Darkleer just blinks. He knows how tall he is, that is an awful lot of hair.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Man, I love that icon. Also I accidently made it action tags.

I love the artist /curls up contentedly