vatheon | If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging.

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If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging.

Who: The Summoner and who ever happens upon him.
Where: Starting at the plaza and he'll end up on the island.
When: Late afternoon of the 12th
Style: Action
Status: Open.

Like when he first appeared, he'd think it a dream this time as well. Lysunder thought the first time surely was some nights even while he was there. Sweeps had past, so his memories of Vatheon faded and aged as he had. Upon arriving back in his own world and time, the winged troll picked back up as if he had never left, it was... strange to think of now, how he just fell back into place without a second thought. Made this aquatic domain seem even less real now. Returning just meant waking up and going back to his life, his goals, and Summoner did. He would've tried not to let his memories of this place and the people here distract him, and soon he didn't think of them at all, even falling into pity again only to shatter it with his own hands. But it didn't matter, he just returned, lived out more of his life, and now here he was,this place, again

So here he sat, in the plaza, an aged hand, calloused and rough- covering his lips stubble covered chin and his weary eyes looking over this place he only remembers now, after so long. A range of old memories slowly filling his mind, piecing together blurry pictures he's not sure what to do with.

Summoner was much older now, to flesh a bit darker now, tougher, scars more apparent on where his skin shows, even his face here and there. His wings look a darker shade of orange and even while folded, appear so much larger than they had been the first time he was here. Horns with slits and notches taken out, extending upwards just a little more than they had been before and looked to be stained darker in splotches at the tips. His clothing looks more fitted, the back a completely open circle for his wings to extend out of instead of slits like it had been, something better tailored for him. He doesn't seem to wear wrappings on his chest and neck anymore, the skin on his neck bare, showing what marks he has, and on his back where long vein like scars extend out from the base of his wings.

Still red though- his hair- still vibrant red, matching the tattered stripes going down the front of his pants.

"Heh, again with this, and after what I have done-" He stares off into nothing, facing the ground after letting what had happened soak in. The Summoner moves a hand through his hair, closing his eyes before pushing up on his knees. A hand ghosts over his neck, the side where he's sure the mark reappeared, where he remembers it, and his feet already start to take him away from the plaza, Lysunder's mind slowly wraps together a map of this place but finding it a little hard. He pushed so much of it back... everything here. How can he even return, how... how long has it been? It doesn't look like anything's changed but-

His shoulders relax, closing his eyes, and he slowly removes something from his sylladex he hadn't for a while. The pair of earrings are stared at for a while before he puts them on again and enters the elevator, heading up with a deep breath. After that, it doesn't take long for him to hit the sky and head towards that lighthouse to just... stare at the water from the shore. That's all he wants to do by this point. The Summoner knows this isn't a dream, but whatever it is he shouldn't be here, even more so now.

[OOC: Feel free to have your character happen upon him at any point from the plaza to the lighthouse. He'll end up in that final destination at some point. :U]

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Summoner sighs, continuing his pace as they walk from the elevator. He doesn't say anything for a little while, merely gazing at the ground distantly as he walks. A small smile is on his face and his hands move to weave together behind his back and under his wings. The silence stays, but soon is broken as he lets out another sighed breath, eyes closing.

"Yes, well, Dualscar isn't as terrible, and as for Gi-" A pause, shrugging his shoulders. He suddenly looks a little agitated, remembering something he... hadn't. He pushes it back, now isn't the time to indulge in that memory...

"As far as the Grand Highblood is concerned, we need to have some words," his nostrils flare. "What did he do with me after I died?" His lips purse, gaze slimming.

"No, don't answer at." He knows about indigos enough... it was a verbal thought, he shouldn't have asked, and suddenly he feels a rather disturbing roll in his stomach now that the thought is playing about in his think pan.

What did he do? Darkleer doesn't want to think of it. He hates thinking about it, hates all of the things which have been rolling about in his thinkpan every since this horrible business started. Yet despite his efforts, he once again thinks about those torn off wings and the scars now on Summoner's back and...

He tries to slip his hand into Summoner's again. "Are you sure about going to confront him?" He doesn't like it... The idea makes him sick with worry and anger again. Someone should at least accompany him. Something should at least keep the Highblood from attacking again like the blasted beast he is.

The scars are new to Summoner as well as Darkleer, and the orangeblood doesn't really enjoy how they pulse and sting here and there... But he's gotten use to worse, and perhaps they will be a reminder of his failure.

He doesn't pull his hand away from Darkleer's, feeling his fingers weave with his own, and instead he tightens his grip a little, reassuringly. Summoner's gaze is strong, staring forward, any hint of a smile gone from his face.

"Yes. I am. He's my responsibility, Darkleer. And I know how to handle him. I don't mind and I'll feel better once he and I converse." A small sigh, giving Darkleer's hand another squeeze.

"I shouldn't have stopped contacting him like I did, it was too abrupt. Indigos can be extremely fickle and when it comes to their rage it's difficult to suppress it once it's started. I have to treat him in a particular manner, I can't afford to be shy and naive any longer." Not when death is possible... and he doesn't want those he cares for to go through that again.

That little reminder, and what everyone said had likely provoked the attack, what the highblood himself mocked him with, has Darkleer squeezing his hand back. "I'm sorry." It was him who prompted the withdrawal, after all. If there's anyone to blame for what happened, Darkleer is sure that it's him.

"Just..." He doesn't want what happened last time to happen again, either. "Please, tell me where you'll meet him, and when. I want to at least hear from you after an hour has passed." Just to make sure he's still alive. To make sure he's still alright.

"You don't have to be, okay? You really do not have to be." Summoner glances over at him.

"All right. I'll let you know. And I will contact you afterwards. What needs to happen between he and I won't last too long though, I hope. I just need to speak with him."

"That is what I told every other individual as well when I first became aware of your disappearance." Huffing, Darkleer leans down to nuzzle at the hair around Summoner's horn. "Then the next thing I knew, I was in the process of kicking him off of a sea beacon to the aggravation of more than a few."

Which was very satisfying, he might add. Surprisingly so. The after effects, the daymares, those are far from pleasant, but tearing into the Highblood after so many sweeps of... Mnn. Best not to think of it for much longer.

"Okay, well I got something on that bastard you don't, or at least I think you don't, so let's say that;s the difference." He huff, letting out a surprised breath when he feels Darkleer nuzzle against him. He swallows, tilting his head a little and feeling his ear heat up.

"But hey, I hope you enjoyed kicking his, it's definitely an invigorating experience when shit doesn't get uh- well. Get out of prong."

That's good, then? Darkleer almost wants to be overly cautious in how he deals with Summoner. The bounds between them have changed, now, with Summoner coming back so aged and with so many different experienced. After a moment's thought, he continues to nuzzle. If it wasn't welcome, Summoner would certainly make it known.

"It was certainly freeing for a short period, I must admit." There's a sigh, however. "Still the resulting backlash wasn't..."

Nuzzling while talking is awkward and difficult, even more awkward because it's painfully obvious Summoner doesn't know how to reply and just kind of, let's it continue as he tries to keep calm.

"Uh- backlash, explain."

That's because Summoner doesn't cuddle enough.

Sighing, Darkleer takes a moment. He knows he can't hide it forever. It's right there on the network, and it would be ridiculous to try and forbid Summoner from looking. Disrespectful as well, although he certainly knows that he wouldn't listen anyways. Best to just... let it out.

"More than a few individuals did not want me to confront the highblood. I drove more than a few at my insistence that something be done, and even when I came back relatively unharmed, there were still some displeased with me."

No, he doesn't, and hasn't for sweeps.

Summoner gives him a small frown, looking away as he takes a moment to think.

"Have you mended anything since then?"

Straightening up, Darkleer sighs. "I have tried with at least two of them, but... Mindfang will have nothing to do with me, I think, and I have not a clue what more I could do for Psiioniic."

And then... "There's Signless, as well, but I can't dare to speak with him either. I really should not be complaining about my social complications with you, not when you've just come back after everything, I'm sorry."

"Uh, I doubt that's true, as far as Mindfang is concerned." Ugh, just saying her name makes his chest clench. He takes a moment before speaking again.

"You've known her for a while, and Psii- he- I feel like it's better to just speak. He and you get along well, it's better to accept and roll with that. Talk freely." Summoner takes a breath, moving a hand behind his neck before looking away. He doesn't really know how to talk to Darkleer about this. It's weird to... Summoner pities him for his problems, but he's not there to help him, just to be there to cling to when they get over bearing.

"I suggest you speak to The Psiioniic first, he then Signless- and then- Mindfang. The third being the most difficult."

That's why he apologized. He knows it's strange to try and seek guidance from a matesprit like this. That's deserved for a paler quadrant. He simply has little other options in who he can go to and speak freely with. It's rather shameful, and he almost feels as if he should apologize again.

"Let's focus on you first," he says as they enter the forest quadrant and he begins to guide Summoner in the direction of the hot springs. "You look a mess."

It is strange, yeah, a red quadrant is suppose to see faults and pity them, accept them as part of that person. A pale quadrant is meant to help those problems and faults and calm them down. It'd be strange for Summoner to want to make his faults go away, since those are why he ever pitied him to begin with. Part of him wishes Darkleer did not make so much trouble for him though, and that part of him is what prompts him to speak with the others.

"Oh, thank you, but you would be too if you were in my place," a sigh, shaking his head a little. Summoner appeared here in the middle of a rest period during a battle. He was tended to some other trolls and took a moment to rest, so he still smelled of the fight, and he knew that.

He moves a hand up, grazing over his face a little, feeling the rough hair prickling from his jaw and up near his sideburns.

"I don't look that bad."

"I never said I wouldn't." A kiss to his horn. "And you look bad enough. We'll clean you, and then take care of what wounds you have." Stepping away as they reach the hot springs, he gestures lightly to Summoner's clothes.

"Take those off, first of all, and then we can start. You don't have to get in it entirely, I know you don't like the feel of water around your wings." As he speaks, he takes out some towels and handclothes from his sylladex.

He falters a little, his posture getting a little defensive, shoulders rising, but he does as Darkleer suggested and dips a hand behind his back. His fingers fiddle a little, zipping down the zipper from the back of his collar to the top of the open circle where his wings are through, and then moves his hand down to the zipper from the bottom of the circle to the bottom hem of the shirt. He flicks his arms a little, pulling the shirt off from the front and puts it on the ground. He winces a little, wings flickering.

"Tell me-" A pause, looking over his shoulder a little.

"Is there something on my back..."

Darkleer pauses as he looks back to Summoner. He can't lie with this, either.

"...Yes. There are scars."

His jaw sets slightly, muscles tensing. His wings flutter a little, feeling them ache slightly from the effort and he curses under his breath.

"Guess the bastard got what he wanted. Hate him a lot more now-" A bitter laugh, shaking his head as his hands move to unravel the wrappings on his arms. He glances down, looking at his stomach. Summoner can see a few scars there that weren't there before. Some claw marks, and a large oval lime wound near his hips. He lets out another sigh, putting a hand up on his neck, on the side where he knows the old bite mark scar still is.

"Certainly made it hard to not think about him- ugh-" A huff, moving his hands to his pants.

Slipping closer, Darkleer leans down to fetch the shirt. "If it is any reassurance, he is carrying more than a few wounds thanks to you. Missing an eye, at the very least."

It's no secret that he's looking over the other troll and counting every scar whether new or old. He used to think he knew every bit of the other's body after being with him, touching all he could, but now so much has changed just physically alone. He's going to have to learn about it all once more.

If it's Summoner, he thinks he's alright with that.

"Heh, nice. Happy I managed to take that with me. His hand still work?" A lighter laugh, shrugging his shoulders as he unzips his pants, sliding fingers around the hem.

His body certainly is a bit different. He's a little taller over all, horns taller as well. And that lithe muscle is still tight and thin, but there's a lot more of it, his over all thickness having changed a noticeable amount. As for his scars, it's easy to see there's more, but not as much more as you would think. Summoner got better when it came to strife, thankfully. But Darkleer will definitely find a few more scars he had yet to map.

"Hope you left some on him too. Have you seen him since? I don't imagine he's quite happy with how it turned out, but he's not stupid enough to think it wouldn't end up like it did."

"A few," he says lightly inspecting the shirt to see just how dirty it is. Definitely going to wash it... "At least, I should hope so, considering I vivisected him."

After a moment's thought, he sets the shirt aside and begins to undo his own armor. Just... to change into something more casual. Plain clothes that will be fine with getting wet.

"Ah, well gosh-" He chuckles, glances at Darkleer as he drops his slacks. Summoner's quick to look away though, once the other troll changes. He's not sure... why, but he suddenly felt the need to not watch him. Which is ridiculous, they wer- are, lovers... But still.

It's a bit hard to, but he does his best to ignore the way Summoner glances at him and then glances away. It has been a long time, he tells himself as he pulls a plain tanktop on. Things are bound to be awkward, things were awkward, and he just has to be patient.

"Do you want to put your feet down in the water?" he asks, brushing off the feelings.

Summoner's horns make subtly kind of impossible, so the act of peeking over his shoulder at Darkleer to still watch him change is most likely noticeable. He pulls in a deep breath, soon looking away again and moves forward, stepping into the hot spring and opening his wings to lay them flat on the ground behind him.

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