Expatriate Darkleer (
aim_exorable) wrote in
vatheon2012-02-23 05:56 pm
Entry tags:
4 ♐ The Subtle Grace of Gravity
Who: Expatriate Darkleer and Summoner
Where: Summoner's camp
When: Sometime in the afternoon
Style: Prose?
Status: Closed
D --> Lysunder?
Where: Summoner's camp
When: Sometime in the afternoon
Style: Prose?
Status: Closed
D --> Lysunder?

no subject
no subject
D --> Are you still available for a moment then?
no subject
yEAH, aS 1N,
uH,
1N PERSON, r1GHT?
no subject
D --> Yes
no subject
yEAH,
tHAT COULD BE A TH1NG WE HAVE HAPPEN THEN.
no subject
no subject
1 AM CERTA1N.
no subject
D --> I'll send Dural ahead to let you know when I'm close
no subject
[Breaths.]
oKAY.
no subject
[Eventually, there's a rustle of leaves as Dural lands on a nearby branch around the camp. She looks down at Summoner and coos out a greeting before looking around the area. Even the lusus isn't taking the time to try and chat, or just preen; she knows this kind of feel in the air and why Darkleer would be so careful.]
[A few minutes later, and Darkleer purposefully snaps on a branch with his foot to let his presence be known before he moves into the clearing. Summoner may notice he's not wearing his usual elaborate glasses anymore. The ones he has now are more similar to the plain, nondescript ones of his descendent.]
no subject
[Summoner's a heck of a lot less stressed compared to a lot of the others. He doesn't fear the Grand Highblood at all, and the children will do well to abscond to the island. Lysunder is certainly not one to constantly dwell on negative what ifs. What he is a little stressed out about is this meeting, it might be noticeable in how he holds himself, a little more fidgety than what's normal for him. He keeps raising a hand to move and adjust the ring through the septum of his nose. It's been a few days so it's fine really, but while he's this nervous it just keeps itching. The pressure's making it a 'thing' instead of an object he can just ignore.]
[A harsh breath to the sound of the stick breaking, wings opening a little as he turns. The long breath out is audible when he sees Darkleer and he loosens a little, managing a small smile as his hands find comfort in the dark hiding places better known as the pockets of hi pants.]
Got here all right-?
no subject
[A pause. He was making a move to sit by the fire as well, but he's just now seen the new addition to Summoner's appearance. Quirking up an eyebrow, he reaches up and lightly taps the side of his nose.]
You got a piercing?
no subject
Yep. Number seven. Ears were getting a bit crowded and I wanted to get something done when I tagged Tavros's ears. [Smile.]
Besides, [Eyes drift to look at the fire pit.] I tend to get piercings to make things, like events, uh, and that. Instead of flesh prints like the others did back home.
no subject
I admit it suits you.
[Reaching up, he rests his fingertips against his jawline, right beneath his own ears.]
I have a few holes as well, but... I rarely wear the jewelery for them. I'd look foolish.
no subject
I seem to just grow additions, made sense to keep adding bells and whistles. [A laugh. How large his horns are, those wings? Seemed like he was just made to be rather 'loud'.]
I haven't seen it yet, so uh, I couldn't tell you. But I really don't think you need anything extra. [Smile.]
It'd just take away.
no subject
Well, I suppose I feel flattered at hearing that. But still. It's as I said.
[He wants to reach over and touch him, even if it's a simple brush of his hand against his. But Darkleer can remember his reactions over the SFC and when they first confessed to one another, so while his fingers twitch, he just keeps it between them.]
[He'll let Lysunder make the first moves for now. Let him get used to this.]
It suits you perfectly.
no subject
[You might be waiting a bit then. Even if he'd like to, it's a lot tougher when it feels like something is at stake. Though his eyes are half lidded when he glances over again, dragging up slowly and stopping at Darkleer's lips.]
You know- [He arches forward slightly, shoulders hunching and wings flickering.] You didn't have to come out here. There's, uh, kinda a lot happening right now. This is probably just a w-w. [Teeth clench.] Waste of your time.
no subject
Even without that, knowing the fickle nature of this place, I should spend as much time as I can with those who I hold close to my heart.
[Sighing, Darkleer looks up and catches Dural's attention. With a low whistle, he calls her to his shoulder. Her heavy frame is a welcome on and he lets her nuzzle his horns.]
The same could be held true in Alternia. Someone can be taken away, and it's only then does one realize what little time they spent with them. While I still have this time... I should use it
Besides.
[Looking back to Summoner, he smiles tiredly.]
It isn't a waste if it's with you.
no subject
Ehhh- [Puts his palms to the seat on either side of him, shifting his weight on them as he leans back.]
I uh, guess you have a point. Better to get time in with those who matter. Never really know how long it will be, or, uh, how short. [A pause, glancing back just as Darkleer looks to him. He can't tell they're catching eyes though, instead he just sees black shades.]
Ah.. ha... ah huh. [Probably the most awkward tone of voice possible, and there might have even been a crack in it. The entire thing accompanying a slight orange dusting to his face.]
no subject
[After... everything, he didn't think it would ever happen again. Caring for the children is different. It's not like a quadrant.]
[Very subtly, he adjusts his hand until it's right next to Summoner's to the point that if either of the move, they'll brush against one another.]
Quite.
UGH UGH UGH /FLAIL TYPES
[Though, he realizes how curling his hand away could look and he pushes himself to change that. Softly his hand opens up and he glances to the side, not turning his head to face him. Lysunder snags sight of Darkleer's mouth again as his fingers slowly slide over the other troll's larger hand. The digits curl as he brushes them up the skin there, and soon very slowly trailing up Darkleer's wrist. Finally,-- as if by some act of the love god herself, as frustrated at this situation as inner Lysunder is-- he turns to face him just a bit. Though his chin is still dipped near his chest, head tilted down, it's at least something. Eyes jerk up to what of Darkleer's he can see, looking with a mixed expression of apprehension and curiosity.]
[Sorry Dural, he's forgotten you're there, Lysunder's pretty good at not paying attention to animals in moments like this. Not like his entire camp back home wasn't always filled with them.]
EHEHEHEHEHEHE
[As he gets used to the feeling of empty air by his hand, Darkleer just takes a small breath and thinks to himself. He can't rush these things, even a little bit. Besides, isn't there a saying that the wait makes the reward that much sweeter, or some such thing? And he was being honest when he said that just speaking with him was enough-]
[Oh that certainly is a hand on his.]
[Blinking back into proper awareness, Darkleer watches those fingers go up his hand, to his wrist, and finds himself holding his own breath. As Lysunder turns to face him, he tilts his head back up to stare back at him. Swallowing, he tries to keep his small, tentative smile in place, wanting to encourage him. Just a little, he leans forward without realizing it. He just wants to be close to someone, especially with them allowing him such a thing.]
no subject
[A deep breath, lifting his head a bit more. He notices how Darkleer leaned in, and he bites his lip as he mirrors this, hand opening and preoccupying itself with locks twining around it's fingers.]
[He feels like he should maybe say something, but his mouth is dry, lips parted. The Summoner's pretty sure any attempt at speech right now would end in a crash landing, so he keeps quite. His hand slowly moves to grind claws against the lower back of the other's head. That's where he stops, taking a breath in, completely aware of how it shudders when it leaves him.]
...Ah, fuck it.
[Said under his breath with a bit of a snort before turning and pushing forward fast to press their lips together. Yeah, thinking. Turns out that only makes it worse. Better just to grab and yank those reins.]
no subject
[And he thoughts Lysunder's fingers were warm.]
[They're nothing compared to his lips, and Darkleer's eyes slide shut without another thought just so he can feel a little more, put all his concentration onto how this feels. This is nothing like the cold wetness he felt from kissing Dualscar. It's the exact opposite, and he couldn't be more thankful.]
[Humming deep in his throat, he presses closer and raises his other hand to lay it on Lysunder's hip. The warmth of him, and the warmth of the fire... It's far too lovely.]
[On his shoulder, Dural just makes the very softest of extended cooing and looks extremely smug for an animal with a beak.]
no subject
[First thing he notes, Darkleer, while still a rigid tight ass, isn't some hack. When he kisses him, it's, hell, he can't really describe it. Experience sure, but maybe it was something else. Was this what it was like to kiss someone you really felt something for? The other's lips are cool and maybe he's just... been wanting it for too long without getting it, but he can't help how eager he is.]
Flying to my speed now, got game, kid?
[Snickers, his snarky tone is back, but it's a little less cocky with how much his breathing is rasping right now. Lysuner smirks, pulling back only to swing a leg around him, knees bent on either side of the other troll, sitting down on his lap with his wings smoothing behind him. He drags a gaze up to Dural, nostrils flaring and jerks his head up just slightly, nodding his chin in her direction before going sliding his hands forward around Darkleer's neck and into his hair again.]
(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)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
They're watching right now. Stiiiill watching.
oh nooo!
Fff. I think, Darkleer's icons drew them in.
As they rightfully should. /finger steeple
Heh.
(no subject)
(no subject)