vatheon | That's a lot of broken glass.

Entry tags:

That's a lot of broken glass.

Who: The Summoner and The Expatriot
Where: The Island.
When: The night after [THIS] conversation.
Style: Prose.
Warnings: ~~None.~~ Slap on an R to NC17 rating, who even knows.
Status: Closed.

He's not in a terrible mood, the reason he's meeting with Darkleer isn't... very upbeat, sure, and the conversation still fresh in his mind is still making his heart ache, but it certainly doesn't completely take away from the other enjoyable conversations he had. Summoner's not one to dwell for too long and if there's something to pull happiness from- even when he's got something heavy on his mind- he's pretty good at balancing out. But that doesn't stop him from needing some time with Darkleer. It'll be their usual togetherness time, the other troll does well to make him happy despite his lingering doubts, and he's also got something that needs to be said.

Hell, he- he knows it's not his place, but he needs to fix some things. He fucked up by dying, GHB fucked up by killing him. The Highblood already paid his price, and now it's his turn to try and fix shit. He's gotta help his matesprit out, right, his matesprit. He might not be in a position to fix his problems, but he sure as hell wants him happy. Matepsrits aren't meant to talk about problems in a way to help fix them, they don't tell it like it is to assist their lover. They just sit and accept the other fucked up, it's all about pitying them- hell fixing the problems directly would take away from what you're pitying- and love them for it, showing them it's okay to be that way because they have someone who accepts them for it anyway. But- When things are pretty damn tough, and hell, he kinda caused it- one has to set it straight, even it's a little weird and out of place for him.

The message to Darkleer was sent earlier today, pretty close to when he finished speaking to Mindfang, and it's not when he starts to head to the island. Like usual, the elevator oddly poses no problem, despite his horns and wings, and soon he's on the surface, taking a deep breath. Summoner doesn't stroll too far, but enough that he's no longer in direct sight of the entrance. With that he leans back against a tree. He doesn't realize it at first, but this place is more significant than is should be. He doesn't remember it exactly... but it's where and and Darkleer first really spoke about both of them as a "they".

With that, he waits, communing with a few birds to keep watch on the elevator.

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The island is important to the two of them for a great deal of reasons. It was the first place where they spoke about the two of them together, and the place where Darkleer watched over the other as his wings shed and grew, and the place where... Hm. Best not to think of it. Thinking of that last and recent time never leads his thoughts anywhere pleasant. Considering that his thoughts have already lately been in a rather dark place, it is rather saying something that his thoughts can go all the darker.

As usual when dealing with a problem he doesn't know how to deal with and is tormenting him, Darkleer has been filling his spare time between sleeping and his job to working on projects. This is true even now as he goes up in the elevator; the long wait up to the island is filled with testing something on his arm, the strange device that Summoner had when the city had gone through a series of species changes. An omni-tool he believes it was called... Not the same one, of course. No, he's decided to make one of his own. It seemed useful.

When the elevator finally comes to a halt, he looks up and the light from the device fades as he steps outside. His glasses hide the look of exhaustion in his eyes. Getting sick actually did him a bit of good in that it forced him to rest, but now he's back to that same relentless schedule. "Lysunder?" he asks the area, not knowing how far the other is. Not that it matters anyway- with the other troll's commune, he should hopefully be able to hear him through one of the animals.

Darkleer's greeted pretty quickly, but not by the brownblood who's still lingering in the small clearing a little ways away. Instead Darkleer's greeted by a small bird that courageously lands on his shoulder. The small animal tweets a few times before hopping a little closer to his head and then swoops down infront of him. It faces away once it lands on the ground, only to hop a little, and eventually face in, looking in various directions rapidly. With that it flies again, but stays in clear view, landing on a branch further ahead and waiting.

Alright, he has to admit, that at least earns a small if tired smile. Animals, nature, those sort of things do well to lift his mood even if it is only by a miniscule fraction. Knowing that this little featherbeast is a messenger from his loved one manages to enhance the feeling more.

"This way, then," he says quietly, mostly to himself if anything as he follows after the bird.

He knew it would, hence why he made the 'doorman' a finch. The smile he catches and lets it influence his own small smile. But he does notice how very tired and drained Darkleer is despite the small pleasant reaction. He hadn't planned on doing anything more than the single bird, but that changes soon.

Darkleer's might notice that he's got another visitor on his shoulder, another rather small featherbeast. And then another on his other shoulder. Infact- slowly- the numbers raise as the single bird infront of him continues to lead him. Meanwhile, Summonder remains in that same spot, soon sitting down on the ground. His legs are open, knees bent up infront of him, feet flat on the ground, and he rests his arms on either knee, eyes closed as he watches Darkleer come closer.

The second one earns another tentative smile. The third has everything shifts to confusing. By the tenth, he's trying not to laugh and doing his best to keep his head bowed to hide the smile stretching across his face.

"Summoner Lysunder of the Cavalreapers, what are you doing, you ridiculous fool." He's very carefully trying to untangle a rather excitable little featherbeast from his hair by the time he's stumbling onto the clearing Lysunder has chosen. "If I had known this was your plot, I would have worn my hair up."

He snickers to himself, the top of his head touching the tree behind him, facing the canopy as he smiles. Might be trying to hide the smile, but he catches it easily, and adds a few more birds after that. Some start to get a little lost in Darkleer's hair, tweeting and ruffling their feathers while they rub against his neck and ears.

He doesn't turn his head at all, or open his eyes when Darkleer gets there, and by that time he's simply covered in birds. Summoner laughs to himself again, moving his right hand a little and they all flock upwards and away from Darkleer in a flurry of feathers and sing song bird sounds.

"C'mere-" Said with a calm tone, staying seated.

No, see, that's just cruel. He makes a small helpless noise- a good kind- as more practically bury past his hair and against his face. This is so absolutely ridiculous. Summoner is ridiculous. Darkleer is glad for it more than he can truly say. He has few brightspots in his life as it is, but he is glad for what he does have, what little there is left by this point.

There's a small jolt when the birds fly away in a flurry. Feathers are stuck everywhere, dusting his shoulders and stuck in his hair. He starts to pick through them before Summoner speaks. Sighing, he goes besides him and crosses his legs. Picking a feather from his shoulder, he flicks it at Summoner's face. "This is going to take forever to clean out."

"Probably-" Said with a slightly hitched tone as he pushes on a knee and stands up just as Darkleer sits. He swoops around fast and is soon sitting on Darkleer's lap, either of his legs on the blue blood's sides, chest to chest. He says nothing, but instead takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, slumping against the larger troll with his wings laying out like a blanket behind him.

"Summoner-?" His hands flicker up at the sudden movement, confused, wondering. They stay still as the warmblooded troll settles against him. It is only when the twitching of those wings ceases and the heat has stopped sinking into his body does Darkleer move his fingers around Summoner's sides and to his back. They just gently start to rub at his skin as he presses his lips to that shock of red hair.

"I'm here, Lysunder."

A noticeable chill passes down his body as soon as Darkleer's hands greet his back and his wings shift a little before he's completely still again. Lysunder keeps his eyes closed, horns forking out on either side as he braces his forehead on Darkleer's chest, just below his chin. He keeps silent for a long time, not saying a word, and continues to do that for about an hour if Darkleer doesn't start up any conversation before then. He doesn't fall asleep, just- just sits there, saying nothing and not moving. His mind is a war zone though, constantly mulling over his last conversation with Mindfang's younger self. He knows it went well, hell, better than he could've expected and he's proud of how he handled it.

But he's trying to lock away the side of him that wanted to ask to see her, that wanted to say sorry even though he knows he's not sorry. The part that wanted to be with her again- but. He shouldn't, hell, it was Mindfang, sure. But she wasn't what he knew then, that and she seemed to not really want much to do with him anyway. Though that he completely understands. Even if she did want to be with him again though, nah, he- it's over. He just needs to calm down, except that they are done. He even was who ended it. That and he has someone else he should focus on, someone right here, someone who wants to be here.

It's just really fucking tough to strip that old part of him away. Damn, it's been a while since he cried, he's still not now, but his eyes certainly are pushing to. Summoner's pretty sure he would if he wasn't dried up.

If he doesn't wish to talk, then he doesn't wish to talk. It is as simple as that, and Darkleer shall not push him.

Besides, if there is something he is so very good at, than it is waiting. Waiting and silence are his most skilled of domains. You did not become a skilled Archeradicator if you did not learn the blessed virtue that is patience, after all. As for the silence...? He's had many sweeps to learn its nature. Perhaps not care for it as often as he should, for too much of it is enough to drive any troll mad, but he knows it well, could take it into his quadrants if he liked. Darkleer can wait, for a very long time. In this place, with this troll, time is something they do not have as much of an abundance as they believed, so he will give all of his to this poor worn down troll. As much as he can.

Not even the fading feel of his legs is enough to rouse him, the way his nerves prick at him. He's used to it by now with how involved he can get into his work. Summoner is so much more important to him than any project, however. He just listens to the other breath, listens to his muscles twitch and his heart beat beneath his fingertips.

After around that hour, he begins a soft hum in the depth of his throat. It begins to get just slightly louder, until its words forming, soft deep words with just enough of a lilt to it to give away that it's a song.

"Soldier rest thy warfare o’er.
Sleep the sleep that knows no breaking
Dream of battles fields no more..."

As soon as Darkleer begins to sing, his eyes open a little and he stares down between them, not really focusing on anything as his ears twitch, listening. He doesn't interrupt him, instead, enjoys the deep rumble of Darkleer's voice for a bit, breathing deep, keeping his eyes barely open. Listening to the words clears his mind a little before the verse finally stops and he finds himself speaking.

"Darkleer-" He stops, still not moving, keeping his head down.

"I spoke to her."

There's a pause at that. Just a brief one. Mindfang is still a strange and complicated figure for him, apparently no matter what time in her life she is in. There's no small amount of hurt, too, but he gets over himself as quick as he can. A brush of his lips to Summoner's hairline.

"I thought as much. There are only so few who can bring about this response in you." He rubs at his back a bit more, venturing upwards.

"What happened?"

"Not much, the uh, the conversation was shorter than I'm used to with her, but it was all right," a nervous laugh follows his words and he adjusts in his seat a little.

"But uh, she's not exactly what I wanna talk about right now- but we have to talk either way." His expression sterns a little, a small frown on his lips. He got what he wanted, and that was just sitting with Darkleer, just... feeling better by being close to someone who cared. And he did feel better, despite being confused and hurt, he certainly was a bit better that he had been when the conversation with Mindfang was going on.

"I know it's um, not my place- but we gotta talk about something, that's okay, right? Won't be a regular thing, heh, to uh- too weird. But I fucked up by gettin' my ass dead, stirred a lot of bullshit, and I'm sorry 'bout that." A pause, soon raising his head. His face is still stern, but to show he's not mad, he leans forward, pressing their foreheads together.

"Fang said some things."

Edited 2012-08-10 06:49 (UTC)

"Why," he mutters irritability, "are we letting ourselves carry the blame when that was the creature to have such poor self control, such shameful willpower, that he could not sit in place for five minutes? Could not resist blooding his claws? It is surprisingly easy to not kill someone in times of strange peace, even a fool like him can learn." Well, his mood always does tend to promptly tank at the faintest suggestion of the Highblood's presence. Darkleer finds himself glaring at some far off tree that does certainly not deserve the animosity before Summoner's next words draw his attention back.

His mood does not particularly improve, although at least it does not get any worse. It simply shifts, from aggravated and tense to nervous and sad.

"Ah. Did she now. I imagine she would."

"Ah- just- let it rest, okay? He just wanted to rustle my feathers, and he did, son of a bitch died for it too." Summoner quickly moves a hand to cup Darkleer's cheek, his own expression still rather serious. He knows the topic of GHB will do that by now, it's a shame too. A shame that Darkleer's letting that huge ass hole have such power over him.

"Yeah, she uh, she did." Ugh how to even.. say this.

"I was wrong before, when I uh, I told to push at things and fix them-" Summoner shakes his head, letting out a kind of bitter laugh.

"Don't know what you said to Sparky, but you gotta let the guy calm down, I uh, I don't think you two are meant to get too into 'feelings'. If you um- if you catch my drift?" Ugh, he hates saying this shit to Darkleer. He doesn't... like telling him this stuff, because he knows it'll make Darkleer sad. This is a job for a moirail, not someone that pities him like this.

"I uh, I think Psiioniic's got enough to deal with, you know, with the whole-" Pause. "-Uh... thing."

The words keep coming. And the more the come, the more he just wants to close in on himself, trap those stupid complicated and troublesome emotions into some inescapable box so he would never have to deal with them again. But literally sitting on him like this has ensured that Summoner keeps him rather trapped in place. He can't retreat into himself properly when he's still pressed close and touching his face like this. Darkleer closes his eyes tight behind his glasses.

"I know." He hates admitting that. It's something he wishes he didn't have to. "You are not the first to inform me of this." Breathing in deep through his nose, he slumps back against the tree and tries to turn his head away.

"...I wanted to help him through it all. I did. I thought I was."

That's partially why he sat here to begin with, sorry Darkleer.

"Heh, I know, but uh... there's other ways to help. You just gotta realize, he's not the person to go to about your own problems too, alright?" A wary smile, moving to curl a finger under Darkleer's chin, using the leverage to shake Darkleer's head a little, giving him a now wider smile over all.

"We need to find you someone who doesn't have a lotta shit on their mind all the time. Sparky's not the guy- and I uh, I'd hate to see him get any worse, yanno?" Summoner keeps his smile, eyes never looking away from Darkleer's even with the blueblood's closed behind those shades.

"But you can't just sit in silence neither, stop looking to do shit that's easy for you. Dwelling's easy, that's your problem, you need to stop going for easy and talk to more people. You never know who you might meet, who might help you out. A guy can always use more friends."

As if he wanted for that to happen to the Psiioniic. He spent so much time trying to make sure the other got better and then this happened. Everything ruined. Grumbling irritably, he tries to pull his face away from those fingers.

"Technically I can't sit in silence, you are simply advising that I should not." Semantics, semantics- he knows that he's just arguing it because he is awkward and uncomfortable with the situation.

"Lysunder, I believe this may have escaped you, but I am not particularly a social individual. I could do very fine with a minimum amount of friends. It suits me. I am content with it." Even if right now he is kind of really miserable and filled up most of his spare time with perhaps an unreasonable amount of work to keep his mind occupied so he doesn't have to deal with all of those thoughts...

"Darkleer-" Said rather sternly, quick, almost snapping. He really.... really isn't enjoying talking to Darkleer about this- like this- but damnit...

His reaction is to quickly bristle, lip curling up before he forces himself to calm down. "What."

"I disappeared like... nothing- it just happened. You don't know when that's gonna happen again, to me or anyone. You need to be social, just- just a little more." A sigh, closing his eyes.

"At least to find someone who can put ya at ease, you know? I don't know what I'd do if I had to come back again and have to see you so bent up all over again. I don't imagine the kids would be alright with it either. You gotta remember that." He moves his hands up, softly rubbing at the base of Darkleer's skull as he speaks, his tone a bit more quiet but still just as firm.

"So just try- alright?"

Just a bit, his shoulders slump. "If you just left, one day, I could handle that, you know. I could. I am used to people... leaving." To put it lightly. "But what happened was... different." Sliding one hand up to Summoner's, he places his palm over it.

It sounds so easy, doesn't it? Getting to know people. He's done it before on Alternia, he knows. It was a necessity to know other individuals so that you could stay alive, stay in what position you had managed to sink your claws into. But those were never things he found pleasure in. He needs very few people in his life.

"I don't even know how things started between him and I," he admits, leaning into Summoner's hand. "How on Alternia would I even begin searching for someone? I've nearly ruined all my relations to any of the other adults here, and other races don't even understand the concept."

"Well I don't really get to know how long I'll be gone, and... if you ever head outta here, I won't get to know for how long either." The brownblood lifts his fingers a little, just enough to softly weave Darkleer's finger tips with his own. He just got back, he's pretty sure he'll at least be here for the same amount of time he had been here before, but- with how abruptly he did leave, he just wants to make sure. Especially since Darkleer broke down a bit. Hopefully... if he ever leaves again, it's not so very macabre.

"You don't search, Tink-" A wary sigh, tilting his head up to kiss Darkleer's brow. He moves both his hands to string through the other troll's hair, combing it and holding it into a loose ponytail with both hands behind his head.

"You just... talk to people, be uh- be a bit more open, but only when it feels all right. heh, but you're so cautious, I uh, I doubt you'll have a problem with that."

That's right, there's always a chance he could be taken away from this place as well. He cannot rule that out either. Darkleer falls silent at the thought, feeling something in him drop. There is nothing for him. This place has given him so much, more than he could have ever expected, even now in this current situation.

"I've never needed to search. Even with my..." He rolls the words about in his mouth for a moment before speaking. "Even with my incident before, I have always have had better self control than some others of my blood. Besides, talking should be enough, frankly. What else should I do?" Another huff of air through his nose. Socialization can be the bane of his existence sometimes. Perhaps he should just make a robot. Maybe that could solve things. "Take them dancing?"

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That's a lot of broken glass.

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dreamwidth pls I need to know this was here 8T

Whoops.

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