vatheon | Licking Wounds

Fortunately, when it's dark, the household is a bit quieter. The chocobos are settling in to sleep, and whatever shenanigans the children get up to become quieter. It's good for Darkleer, certainly. His ears twitch up as he catches the sound of that familiar knock. Smiling softly to himself, he gets up to pull aside the curtain and welcome his matesprit-

Only to feel a shot of alarmed adrenaline rush through him as he sees all the blood covering Summoner's body. Not wasting a second, he quickly pulls open the window and reaches for Summoner to help him inside.

"What happened!?"

"Heh," His brows furrow, one of his eyes a bit closed, mouth and hacked up chin still actively flowing with blood as he manages a small smile and for the most part collapses onto him. The weight's probably nothing compared to the mess that he is now dripping all over Darkleer.

An arm is dislocated, and his upper body is a war zone, wings thankfully untouched besides a few small tears Summoner can easily mend later. He's bleeding a lot, so it all probably looks a lot worse than it is. Well, maybe a few broken ribs are bad, but Summoner's breaks pretty easily so it's not that terrible to him.

He laughs a bit, slinging his arms around him and letting out a pained sigh, but it's sounds, in part relieved? Either way he's teetering in and out of consciousness right now. Further inspection though- Darkleer might smell something else amidst all the blood and torn flesh.

Summoner, no, why are you so happy? Darkleer honestly doesn't get it until he has him pressed up against him and his nose catches a very familiar scent. Immediately, his nose scrunches up in distaste. There's some initial possessive anger, too, but he does his best to quell it. He should be happy for Summoner. Having a kismesis can be a good thing. Even... if... he comes home looking like this...

Not minding all the blood smearing over him, Darkleer simply carries him out into the hallway, towards the door that leads down into the extensive basement workshop. It still needs a bit of touching up, but it has the basic necessities for now, and is much more adequate for cleaning Summoner up then his room, now.

"Just hush, and I'll get you back to fighting condition, you fool."

No no, you're gonna smell more of it because he's clinging tighter and rubbing his face into your neck now. Because Darkleer's nice and cool and it feels good because everything is aching and hot. There's just this over all stinging everywhere, especially on his front from all the claw marks. Kismesis, is that what was happening? it's hard to tell with the Highblood, either way it felt like it to a degree, and he's pretty sure he'll keep to his word. The Highblood's a lot of terrible fucking things, but a liar's not really one of them.

He's a lot of dead weight right now, not that the weight's the problem. His horns probably catch here and there, wings dragging a bit, sometimes flicking open, reacting after twitches of damaged muscle yank and pull here and there.

"Hussshh. Heh, yeah-" His voice is really grating too, hoarse, but he's still smiling for the most part.

Ooooh dear. Darkleer sighs and tries to hold his breath, although he isn't completely ignorant to Summoner. He even lightly strokes his hair a bit with the tips of his fingers as he guides him. As long as he's happy. As long as he's happy.

"Don't even talk." A kiss to his forehead. "I'll get you some water as well. With all the blood you've seemed to have lost, you will most certainly need it." Somehow, he manages to get the door open; this isn't the first time he's had his hands full of an injured troll. Down the steps he goes, which were designed to leave enough space even for someone with Summoner's impressive rack.

The workshop is rather plain, and maybe a bit unpleasant to look at; they haven't made it very welcoming with all the concrete and metal. That can be for later. Right now, Darkleer occupies himself with carrying Summoner to the medical bed that's off in one corner. He takes great care in laying him down and starting to remove the shreds of clothes that are left on him.

Happy yes, yes happy... And in pain, it's hard for anything else to register right now. But there's a kind of nirvana in that...

"Water-" Oh wait talking. But yes, water sonds nice. His mouth still tastes like-

Well. Yes, water. As they head down, stairs, oh god. He tries his best to focus and not just crumple up at his side at the prospect of something as monumental as stairs. That's not to say his horns aren't hitting on shit here and there still. At least they're not getting caught though, right?

Soon he's laying down though, and it's nice. And there's a content smile on his face, sighing a long sigh and closing his eyes.

"He-"

While he's still examining Summoner's body, Darkleer pops out a robot from his sylladex and shoos it off. A command is sent from his glasses to it. Water, and then to clean up the ridiculous trail of blood that's in the hive. Hopefully it'll manage before Gamzee and Equius notice anything is amiss.

When Summoner speaks up, Darkleer just reaches over and brushes his thumb against his cheek. "It can surely wait, love." He's trying to spot the most pressing areas that require attention, preparing his medical kit from his sylladex.

"Wait- for-" Sigh. A happy sigh, smiling to himself.

"Everything hurts really-" Cough. "Bad."

"I know it does, just be patient, alright?" A kiss to his hand this time, trying to ignore the indigo blood that's there. "I'll clean you up and then we'll repair the wounds."

He quickly gets to cleaning up all the wounds, which is a task all onto its own. There's so much of it, and he goes through quite a few things that end up soaped with it. When he's satisfied, he gets the omnitool in his armor out. It's very handy for cleaning up the more minor injuries in quite a quick amount of time; Summoner might feel the medi-gel it disperses helping his body regenerate extremely quickly and sealing up wounds.

It's as he's finishing up with that does the robot come back down, a pitcher of water and a clean glass in its hands. Darkleer quickly pours for Summoner and holds it up to his lips.

"No, no..." His trails off, smiling to himself.

"It's greeeaat." A sigh, closing his eyes again and a darkness takes him over, suddenly falling asleep. Probably for the best for Darkleer's sake. Lack of moving and talking. He stays asleep during the majority of his touch ups and cleaning and eventually opens his lids a little to the feel of cold against his lips. It stings a little, his mouth and chin still a bit of a mess, but mostly sealed, thankfully. Everything's gonna be soar for a while...

"Mmm." The water's wonderful though and soon he's raising a hand to take the glass for himself, sitting up a bit. There's a hitch, broken ribs and all, but he's soon downed the whole thing, gasping as he pulls it from his mouth.

"Thanks, baby."

"It's what I'm here for." For the most part, he manages to keep most of the bitterness out of his voice. It's hard, with his determination to keep Summoner happy conflicting strongly with his desire to see the Highblood's head bashed in. But after remembering how Summoner acted when he confessed to it- before the sex anyway- helps the former win out.

Darkleer pushes himself to his feet. "I'm going to get some ice for your ribs, alright? I should tell you that you should avoid flying about or getting into any more... situations. It can take some time for ribs to heal, even with medical additions to speed up the process."

"Situationssss?" Leeeeeeeaan-

"Ow, ow, ah.. ha.." Winces, laying back down, hovering a hand near his side.

"Idiot." Like every time, however, he says it with an exasperated kind of fondness. Shaking his head, Darkleer gets the ice and returns to press it against his side.

"As I was saying. Nothing but rest, along with painkillers. You can stay here, if you like." A pause as he inspects the dislocated arm. Being with Summoner is actually reminding him of something, but he's not sure how to address it. He really isn't.

"You and... Disciple can stay with one another. She might be visiting. Often. Perhaps." Maybe.

Another hiss from the ice before he's relaxing again, moving to hold it himself.

"Disciple?" Opens his eyes, his ears flicking.

"Often?"

"That's right, we've been talking- ah, hold still now, this will hurt."

Gonna just put that arm back in its socket, don't mind him.

"Talking?" A smile.

Before a wince, crying out a little as it shoves back into his socket. Summoner hisses, squinting his eyes before slumping back.

Leaning close, he kisses him on the cheek and rests his forehead against his. "I told you it would hurt, and did you expect anything less from a fight with that brute?"

"Did it hurt for you too?" Believe it or not he doesn't mean anything associated with the highblood neither.

"Why would it hurt for me? I'm not the one horribly injured."

"Heh, no I uh, I mean whatever you got going on with Disciple?"

OH. THAT..

Darkleer's ears twitch upwards sharply and he glances away. Is that a bit of a blush. "It.. might have a little. Initially."

"Heh, you can, be so lame sometimes, heh. No but it's okay." A smile, moving a hand up to tilt his face back towards him before Lysunder sits back.

"I think that's a good thing, whatever happened then."

"Insulting your matesprit, how romantic." He's just huffy as his face is turned, pay him no mind.

"I'm... making her a ring. Similar to yours."

Lysunder smiles, just watching him with a fond gaze as he leans on an elbow for support. Darkleer's older than him, more experienced, whether Summoner feels like the elder here or not, so it's always a little amusing to watch how fragile Darkleer can be. Guess it's hard to accept other people liking you when you can't really like yourself much, the thought of which only makes Summoner's chest clench a little.

He reaches out a hand, smiling as he raises his head a bit.

"Hey," curls fingers around his chin, lips in a smirk, oversized fangs glinting a bit as he tries to get a better look at Darkleer's face through all that gorgeous black hair.

"That's good, right?"

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