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Entry tags:
- * hrhr,
- * setting: jhashch 382.92,
- arthur [inception],
- chiron [fate],
- daenerys targaryen [asoiaf],
- dorian pavus [dragon age],
- eames [inception],
- genji shimada [overwatch],
- john constantine [dc],
- kel cheris [machineries of empire],
- lena oxton [overwatch],
- mamoru hijikata [until death do us part],
- meliorn [shadowhunters],
- prompto argentum [final fantasy],
- samus aran [metroid],
- william [westworld]
STAND ASIDE, HANDLE MINE, ADD THE CHEDDAR.
WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? The eclipse and surrounding events.
WHEN? Lead up to and resulting eclipse shenanigans.
ANYTHING ELSE? Please warn for anything besides physical violence and move to a personal journal if it's beyond PG-13.
WHAT? The eclipse and surrounding events.
WHEN? Lead up to and resulting eclipse shenanigans.
ANYTHING ELSE? Please warn for anything besides physical violence and move to a personal journal if it's beyond PG-13.
nah—gut, skin, and eat the chef;
before he eats the rest
READ THE JHASHCH INFOPAGE.
THE CLOSING CEREMONY
The arenas close with another ostentatious celebration designed by the Great Houses, and with an air of regret even amidst the applause. COST and the Regency are again expected to attend, still given positions of honor, and particularly ardent fans may toss trinkets of favor and affection onto the stage. So pick up a couple bedazzled flowers on your way out...or get seriously hassled, if you never dedicated your victory proper. Whoops.
After that, however, the regret quickly transforms into fervor of a different sort. It's the holiday season and the following week is filled with enthusiastic preparation. The lucky among you might even spot Araneans from outside Ythaway, bringing in goods at the behest of nobles.
Unlike alien visitors who enter the Inner Rings by terminal, Jhashchan natives use eleven gated checkpoints spaced around the Third Ring; with the terminal, the spacing is almost like a clock. COST recruits are summarily warned to keep their distance; while these Araneans are commoners and would be sentenced to a quick death for even challenging a diplomat, that doesn't mean they're guaranteed to play by the rules.
Some of you just look way too tasty for that.
A MESSAGE FROM OUR SPONSORS
The day after the closing ceremony, recruits receive a bulletin.
@SCOUT | @ALL
expect a briefing at 0900
it'll be executed through the bce, so find a private location
while the declared victories favor the queen, we can't expect the regency or princess chch to accept this outcome
the eclipse will provide them perfect opportunity
stay sharp
keep track of each other
THE SOLAR ECLIPSE
The solar eclipse marks the beginning and end of the Jhashchan year, with Araneans speaking excitedly—or, in the case of the more religious, reverently—of its upcoming eve. This year is particularly special; it's an incredibly rare total eclipse when viewed from the eyes of Ymir, where the sun will only be visible as a halo around Cre. The last one was centuries ago, before High Queen Thsh ascended the throne in her mother's stead.
Recruits may find themselves accosted by Araneans eager to hear about eclipses from Earth; the old planet is famous for them, with a moon and sun perfectly distanced to create the halo effect. This, among a few other phenomenon, made it a popular tourist attraction.
Its rarity on Jhashch, however, means that the feast this year is an especially grandiose affair.
» ECLIPSE'S EVE
The Royal Family holds yet another banquet. They extend invitations a week beforehand to anybody who is somebody, esteemed diplomats included, and anticipate your RSVP. Rather than sending a daughter from a Great House, however, recruits each receive a formal letter, handwritten by one of the High Queen's many daughters.
The feast itself is one of gluttonous abandon; again hosted at the royal ballroom, it features a brand new chandelier wrought from processed Ymir (in consideration for their visitors' health). And it's remarkably unlike anything recruits have seen while on Jhashch. The Araneans still have certain social expectations, but there's something wild and near frenzied to their mannerisms on this day. Consider it a lack of poise, almost feral.
The spread of food is as varied as it is gratuitous, primarily meat from every corner of the Thshan Empire and then some. Spiders drink and devour all they're offered and expect their guests to do the same, though their scrutiny is perhaps a little impaired this eve; the wine is plentiful and strong, with toasts made to Queen Thsh.
She made an excellent showing in the arenas, with over half of the victories dedicated in her name. Her daughter earned no small amount of favor, carrying over a third of them, but it's apparent in the High Queen's bold, haughty pride (her declarations of seeking out those who were too foolish to pass their conquests where they're due) and Princess Chch's pensive silence—though she's always quick to spare a smile, genial and gentle, to any recruit who looks her way—that she finds it less than ideal.
Nonetheless, the revelry carries on well into the night.
» THE ECLIPSE
The day of the eclipse is an event unto itself. Food and drink is still plentiful, as the Araneans prepare to venture out into the wilds of Jhashch. It's almost a pilgrimage of sorts, with several members of House Jankeh arriving at COST's quarters. They're young daughters of the house, just beginning to brush over two meters tall, and they flash sharp teeth before they titter behind their hands in the presence of recruits.
They're here to equip you with suits that will allow you to step outside Ythaway's protected halls, so hopefully you didn't think you'd avoid venturing into Jhashch's red landscape. You're instructed to take your assigned visors, distributed by Young upon your arrival, and use them to protect your eyes from the sun's unforgiving glare.
And you have an audience, whether you want one or not, so it might be a good idea to stick together as the Araneans size your suits on the spot. It turns out it's one size fits all, but the tech is a little finicky and House Jankeh's daughters are here to make sure everything is set up properly. So while they probably aren't going to eat you...better safe than sorry.
Taking off the suits while outside Ythaway is ill-advised, if occasionally necessary when eating or drinking or if, y'know, you need to pee. While the effects of Ymir aren't as strong as inside the caverns, the average human will notice it's much harder to breathe in the thin atmosphere and likely experience effects similar to altitude sickness. Prolonged exposure, especially when coupled with Ymir poisoning, can easily kill a human in under two hours.
All recruits are permitted to carry weapons into the field. For those of you who came unarmed, House Khah provides basic melee weapons of your choice. They're all high quality make, but lack any of the fancy accessories found in House Jankeh's goods. A sword is just a sword.
But you'll need it, to survive a landscape rife with overgrown invertebrates all keen for a meal.
You're sent into the wilds with only a pack for food and sleeping gear; the visors come with maps installed. Recruits also have the option of riding skrit chri, but it's on your shoulders to obtain and transport anything else. It's a long trek to get clear of the cavern walls and it's expected everyone stay in the Jhashchan wilds overnight. Go prepared; the gates to Ythaway won't reopen until tomorrow.
The Araneans—nobles and commoners alike—scatter through the twin valleys, eager to claim the best vantage points and idle away their wait with hunting. The Royal Family takes the center of Ythaway's valley for themselves, with extravagant awnings to protect against the sun. They remain in full regalia, with an entourage of Aranean servants to cater to their needs. It's more practical than bringing out human servants, after all.
The eclipse itself is only a couple hours, with the period of totality lasting mere moments. Don't waste this once in a lifetime opportunity.
» ECLIPSE'S MORROW
However, as soon as the eclipse ends, the Araneans seem to almost...slow. The frenetic wildness that possessed so many of them dissipates, replaced by torpor. Many of them turn in for the day on the spot; while they may keep to daylight hours in Ythaway, protected from the sun, they favor the damp and dark by nature.
It is, as Young put it, a perfect opportunity.
But it isn't the Regency who makes the first move.
CHAOS THEORY
In the lull of the eclipse, the first target is none other than the High Queen herself. A male Aranean throws himself upon her as she stretches luxuriously in the shade, his mandibles clicking and a blade drawn. The edges shine with venom and it's only the Queen's hardy exoskeleton that sends it skittering askew.
General Shai is upon him in seconds and General Aythy turns on the other servants, already set to swarm them, as their mother skewers the Aranean with one long leg. The Royal Family dwarfs the servants in size, but they make up for it in numbers. And it's in this moment that it's obvious this isn't the Regency or Princess Chch's doing; while the princess is a skilled actor, she's taken just as off-guard as her mother. She doesn't recover enough to even stab the queen in the back before the flashbangs detonate.
When the eyespots clear, a cry goes up.
The Twin Generals Shai and Aythy have vanished.
WHILE YOU WERE AWAY
While the bulk of Araneans are overwrought at the thought of their missing Generals, it quickly becomes clear they aren't the only absent royal blood. Queen Thsh and Princess Chch are accounted for, but Prince Shch is nowhere to be found. Rumors immediately begin circulating; the Prince had a few victories dedicated in his name, so perhaps his mother wasn't pleased by what he did with them (what did he do with them? no one can seem to agree). But what better chance to dispose of him, so he can no longer conspire with his sister.
Fishier still is the absence of several elder daughters of House Khah. The Great Matron and her heir are present, but only they remain of important rank.
Meanwhile, COST has some of their own to locate. But even before the recruits on Jhashch can return to Ythaway, they receive a terse bulletin.
@SCOUT | @ALLIf you want to return to the comparative safety of Ythaway, you'll have to fight your way back against rogue Araneans and the Regency alike. Because far be it from the Regency not to capitalize on the situation, once they find their feet. Now might be a good time to call in any favors you earned in the arenas, provided you trust the Araneans enough to honor them. Or if you're confident in your ability to sweet talk them into not selling you out.
the commander is down
do not report back to our quarters; they've been compromised
blend in where you can and focus on your tasks for now
if you need gear, i've salvaged what i can
wait a few hours to meet me in the servant corridors
i'll set my location to public so you can find me
For anyone who does return to the villa, they'll find it a smoking husk, abandoned save for the Regency and Araneans seeking their favor. And they make it no secret they're hunting COST.
But, in the next breath, some of you are hunting them.
READ THE JHASHCH INFOPAGE.
John Constantine | open
[Since the success of Joe Strummer’s Pipes, John has become something of a celebrity on Jhashch. His banquet invitation had arrived in a shimmering envelope with flattery upon flattery almost begging for John’s presence. Though it sounded like a good way to dress up a fancy snack of a magic user, John couldn’t pass up the opportunity.
His scruff has begun to grow in again with the end of the mission drawing near. With his newfound money John wears clothes of his own, pleased to have possessions not provided by COST. If it were up to John he would have arrived in a brand new spider edition of the rumpled white shirt and loose red tie look, but his date for the evening had vetoed that in favor of something a little more sharp.
After arriving to the banquet side by side with Dorian, John immediately spots a large pipe display selling a new line of Strummer Pipes for only the most fashionable of Araneans. John gives Dorian a quick pat to the shoulder, promising to catch up with him as soon as a bit of business is conducted. John inspects the merchandise, complimenting the pipe representatives on quality craftsmanship. And a beautiful display. He remains at the setup for a while, mingling with fans and soaking in the attention. If approached he will extend a piped already packed with tobacco and grin widely.]
Care to give it a try? Or are you looking for an autograph?
B. ECLIPSE
[The one size fits all does not, as one would expect, fit all. While John is certainly tall enough, his lean frame neglects to fill out the wider bulk of the suit. The loose fitting suit does nothing to dampen his sense of discovery. Eager to see the eclipse, John adjusts the pack on his shoulders as he walks amid the red earth. Always one to be as thoroughly prepared as possible, his bag bulges with more items than he was given. He sticks close with the other COST members. As much as he’d like to wander he still has his instinct of self-preservation to stick around and not leave a job unfinished. John looks to the person walking alongside him, eyeing their pack with curiosity.]
What did you bring with you?
C. WHILE YOU WERE OUT
[The residence has been utterly destroyed and John is too late to do anything about it. He stands amid the ash and rubble in disbelief, looking across the quarters and assessing what was once his temporary home. He remembers the hallways and various rooms – upstairs, downstairs. The mental image combined with muscle memory guides his steps as he wanders to what had once been his personal quarters.
There was once a bed here as evidenced by a scrap of blanket. This has been an item bought and earned after the success of the pipes, a reminder of independence. Pieces of smashed glass litter the floor and though John wears heavy boots he remains mindful of his step. It’s too much to hope that there is any wine left to salvage. In truth he can’t really blame the Regency for taking the wine when John had taken it from the Araneans only weeks before. Or at least, he hopes they had the good sense to take it and that the smashed glass was only remnants of what was already empty. If not, what a waste.
He bends to pick up the scrap of blanket, brushing the ash off his fingers and the fabric. As he reverses his crouch into a standing position, that is when he sees it: the last survivor of the Regency’s destruction. With a hunch he walks briskly to his trophy made of various body parts with a spider foot as its center. It’s a bit charred in places, and certainly worse for wear, but here it is, mostly intact. John picks up the artwork from the ground with both hands, shaking off the ash and dirt as he looks to the hard fought prize with a renewed determination.]
Looks like we’re the only two souls left, mate.
[Even now he can’t resist the easy joke.]
D. WILDCARD!
[Got another idea? Hit me!]
banquet;
And, if he's being honest, John Constantine is an absolute enigma. ]
Trying to catch up, I've been gone for a short while.
[ Oh, hell--he is curious. ]
May I?
no subject
Of course you may. Wouldn't be much of a demonstration if I neglected the merchandise now, would it?
[He hands Meliorn the pre-prepared pipe, taking it upon himself to give it a light. While the substance tastes like tobacco, the effect is closer to particularly strong marijuana.]
So tell me about your adventures. The rumor mill said something about launching you into space.
no subject
In his defense, he doesn't cough, probably because it tastes the same as tobacco, but when he exhales smoke (politely out of anyone's face), there's one hell of a smile on his face. ]
I've never been more reminded of home.
[ You bet your ass he's buying one after this conversation. ]
It appears the moon has a watered down version of Coachella--do you have Coachella, in your universe? Burning Man?
no subject
[The big name music festivals that everyone, particularly the trust fund children tend to gravitate towards. How expected and trite.]
Rather bland as far as live music goes. [John takes a long, particularly unimpressed drag of the pipe.] You haven't lived until you've started a fight in a venue built for 60 standing room only participants packed well past capacity.
[He appraises Meliorn with a lift of the eyebrows. Definitely not the type to start the kind of shit John was thinking of unless he proved to be completely surprising.]
I thought resources were limited. What did they do, shoot you right off in a slingshot?
no subject
....Besides, the pipe has him relaxed and homesick free for the first time in months. Meliorn can take a diss about Coachella, anyway. It's Bjork and Sia he holds close to his heart. ]
A slingshot would have been kinder. The teleportation felt like my insides were quite possibly going into a blender
[ Holy shit, it's an actual joke. ]
I don't suppose I can purchase one of these from you?
no subject
[Gotta reply to the joke with a joke! He regards Meliorn curiously. He'll sell him a pipe of course. He wouldn't turn down a customer, and certainly not a fellow member of COST with whom he has previous contact. But there is still a question that lingers.]
How much are Coachella tickets anyway?
no subject
Why?
no subject
[John shoves his own pipe into his mouth, speaking around the stem.]
Afraid of admitting to being a stereotype or what?
(no subject)
eclipse
The suit doesn't fit him right, either. Given that he's used to wearing clothing or armor that allows him a full range of movement, the fact that he feels so bogged down in the suit is the first thing to weigh on his mood. Then there's the knowledge that this suit is the only thing protecting him from the elements. It's difficult to enjoy seeing more of an alien planet with that possibility floating around in his head.
The one thing to keep in mind is the coming eclipse. It does sound like something worth beholding, and maybe it will be worth all this effort.
Genji's been silent during the walk, more caught up in his own thoughts than focused on the people around him. So when someone asks him a question, it takes him a few seconds to reply. ] Oh! Sorry. [ He turns his head as much as he can in the suit to look over his shoulder at his pack. ] I brought what they provided, and my sword.
[ These days, he's not that material of a person. ]
no subject
You don't need to apologize to me, mate.
[He regards the weapon, grimacing at the possibilities. Jhashch hasn't exactly been low key and even the more pleasant events usually didn't stay that way.]
What are the odds you think you'll be needing that sword?
no subject
[ They're moving away from anything resembling civilization, and while this means that they have more breathing room away from the Araneans, who have already settled into the central valley, that doesn't mean that they'll be safe from whatever wildlife is out here. Genji recalls that most of the native wildlife has already been subjugated by the Araneans, used as servants more than anything, but that doesn't mean that they couldn't run into some untamed beasts.
A sigh, and he gives the other man a closer look. It's difficult to make out his face with the visor on, but he's fairly certain he's seen him around, and his accent also stands out. ]
And what did you bring with you? Anything interesting?
no subject
I was hoping you would have a little better news for me.
[Not that he had expected anything better considering his entire experience with COST, but a change of pace might be nice. Against all odds maybe an eclipse was just an eclipse.
Ha.]
Well. I've got a poison trap, a club, some extra lighter fluid. Booze, pipes, tobacco, and a foot for luck. If this is going to be a viewing party may as well make it an actual party, know what I mean?
no subject
That's quite the list of items. Things with which to defend himself, things with which to indulge in escapism, and then...
A foot? ]
And what is the foot for?
[ Genji suspects he isn't going to like the answer. And is it a human foot, or an Aranean one, or something else? So many questions. ]
no subject
Nah, it's a low blow - even if he's not above throwing a low blow every now and then.
Without standing up, steady in his crouch, he snorts.] Ain't that supposed to be three, or are you lacking a shoe?
no subject
I have two shoes that serve me perfectly well, but my other foot doesn't wear one. [A statement deliberately posed like a riddle.] After this, I don't know, maybe I should change it. Could use some more protection.
[This man couldn't have actually seen the "art", and John approaches closer to explain while carrying the piece. It's only then when he realizes that the man is blind and of course he hadn't seen.]
No, mate, I've actually got a spider foot. Surrounded by other body parts from creatures native to Jhashch. Taxidermy art thing.
[John offers the piece to the stranger to touch or even hold if he likes, extending it forward and allowing one of the various limbs to touch Mamoru on the hand.]
no subject
wildcard-ish at the banquet
Except Dorian finds himself distantly gazing at John the same way he would gaze at Rilienus or anyone he held a torch for, but none of them burned quite as bright as this, none of them felt hot enough to scorch and leave behind wretched scars from the burn. Glittering to gloss a hidden hurt. Unlearning not to hope for more. Stumbling steps where the wall used to be. Now he's channeling thoughts that aren't his own, he wished that he hadn't invited Cole to take a drink, but his words feel more valid now than they ever did before, he almost wished the spirit was here now to give him better insight. He would have said yes. Missed opportunities--he could drink another one down and ride out the pain until it became a dull throb that ebbed and flowed with his moods, eventually disappearing.
Feelings were complicated, messy, tangled up things that hurt to talk about that were dangerous to talk about and they could ruin everything and he wasn't good at talking about these things. The idea of it being all on him made the follow through that much worse and he couldn't help waffling over what Eames had said, well it was all good that things worked out with his fellow wasn't it, but his fellow wasn't John. There weren't many people quite like John, not many people could make Dorian this anxious inside, unsatisfied with the implications and the shadows of feelings--he wanted to know where they were going. The uncertainty of it still gnawing at his twisted insides and he wasn't sure what ate at him more: keeping it in and walling it off or spilling his guts.
Can't hate you for hiding if you burn so brilliantly. Not his words, but they were so spectacularly Dorian who always took comfort in his own radiance and charm, gifted enough to hide everything, dancing beneath the disappointment and the rejection. Confession takes a great deal of work and in his case a great deal of wine, he's already had several glasses, but he's not drunk...or maybe he is and he just doesn't recognize it anymore. Not that it matters, he's still going to snatch another bottle before he approaches John, but only after his adoring crowd fades.
Let his glory linger for a bit longer, he's in for a crash landing, or perhaps that's just Dorian.]
no subject
The best part of the situation was the oscillation between the attention of the spiders. The Araneans swayed between awe and hunger, sometimes hovering solidly in the middle. John could see how badly they wanted to eat him written across their faces, but yet they dare not and lose further development of a now cherished product. It was such a high to plant oneself solidly in the middle of danger and know that you were untouchable. What a rush.
Yet not all attention can last, and the crowd dies down as few pipes are left in the display. John notices Dorian's approach and remains beside his table, resting his palm against the surface as he shifts his body weight.]
Well don't you do more with two legs than our hosts can with eight?
[It's a typical greeting between them. Something between a joke and a compliment with no room for hellos. That's how they've always operated ever since they met: casual and easy with an understanding in reading what goes unsaid.
Yet now it takes no history between them to notice Dorian's own unsaid portion weighing on his shoulders. The eager smile to see his companion has turned to a furrowed brow and slight tilt of the head. John reaches forward with his free hand, touching his fingers to the back of Dorian's elbow.]
You alright? If the party's that bad we've plenty of wine in our own stores.
no subject
[Meaning Dorian can wear form fitting clothing that made him very attractive from the back whereas their eight-legged counterparts didn't look nearly as attractive from the back...not by Dorian's tastes anyway...they weren't much better from the front either, but that's because he's well aware that the front is where they keep their teeth. He's trying to be playful, to keep up with their usual standard of greeting, but his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, the warmth isn't as evident as the yearning and so when John reaches out to him, touching him Dorian can't help responding honestly.
He's yet to tell John a lie and now is not a good excuse to start the habit, even though he could easily say he was fine, John would know he was lying, it would be all over his face like he just stepped into a great big honking pile of melancholy and gotten it all over his shoes. Dorian didn't take John for a fool, he certainly didn't take him for a blind fool, and no matter how he would like to fix the expression on his face or the look in his eyes, it wasn't working. He'd end up telling him regardless, that's just how things had a way of turning out with Dorian, so doing the practical thing was better in the long run. Bloody Eames, putting bloody ideas into his head, so very helpful indeed.]
Not really, no. [In response to whether or not he is alright.] I wouldn't mind a word in private, though I would be loathe to relieve you of your adoring public.
[Loathe, but not above it, which is why he steers himself towards the exit tipping his head to the side a notch just to make sure he was being followed. It was an open invitation, not a mandatory demand.]
no subject
Though the spiders had already begun to disperse, in truth John would have left them to their own devices much earlier if asked. The attention was fun, he would never deny it, but in the end the spiders were only a throng of nameless faces with too many limbs. As long as he made an exit thoroughly thanking them for their patronage John was certain that would be enough. The trend wasn't going away anytime soon.
Dorian begins moving before John can answer, definitely something of note, and John falls into step beside him rather than trail after ― though not without forgetting his glass.]
If you don't want to make the walk back to the residence I saw some unused rooms outside the banquet hall. Looked like private dining areas for those who'd rather have their food without the aftertaste of a crowd.
[The decision was up to Dorian of course, he may have something else in mind entirely. But those quick steps suggested urgency.]
no subject
At the suggestion Dorian slows his steps a bit to consider it, it would be less personal wouldn't it? Avoid that awkward moment after where you want to flee, but you're in your own room so you can't so you stand in awkward silence until someone does something. Empty private dining area? Better exit strategy.]
That's...not a terrible idea. [Let's just procure one of these rooms then shall we? But once they are both inside Dorian secures the door, doing his again-and-agains to ensure they wouldn't be disturbed at any point before rounding on John with the most peculiar stretch of silence that was absolutely uncharacteristic of him. Dorian's a chatter box, by virtue of his own nature he actually rambles to fill the silence...being speechless? Not something that happens to him very often.] So...
[Well that's always the best way to begin these things right?]...so...so I'm not exactly well versed in the art of confessions, so if I stumble over my elocution it's because I'm not used to...this.
[And Dorian actually sounds moe confident than he feels which is a good thing, for him at least.] I like you and I'm well aware that you enjoy my company and that you enjoy having me around, fortunate for the both of us. Being deprived of me is challenging for most people.
[Was that an attempt at humor? It was, he thinks.] The thing is...it's not really enough, I feel a bit anxious about where this goes, you and I, or if this is as far as it goes. I'm a big boy, I can handle it, I won't be pleased...but I'd understand...so this is something that best be done now rather than later when it'll be much harder.
[How incredibly grown up, Dorian, but that sudden wave of confidence falters as his eyes drop a bit, he's just realized his arms are folded over his chest...defensive, but it also makes him look smaller. Thematic considering he wants to sink into the floor. Even the voice that comes out of him is something he doesn't recognize, smaller, softer, likes speaking to himself mostly.] Te amo vos, amatus.
[He slips into a language they both know due to it's own familiarity to him and because they can both speak it, but to what extent Dorian isn't sure. He still can't quite look at John though, he simply wants to get it over with, like pulling an arrow out of your ass. Demons didn't frighten him this much, in fact he'd rather face down a small horde right now...he's not even sure why he said that just that he had to say it.]
no subject
He had no idea what to expect that was so urgent, but it certainly wasn't this. Everything in him feels heavy, rooted in place. Despite his past history and instincts there is no urge to run. He wants to stay, wants Dorian to stay, but the rising urge to vomit reminds him why that was a terrible idea.
Dorian was good, honest, willing to face his own apprehensions. And that is why whatever they had should stop now. John wasn't that kind of person. He was hardly steadfast, the only constant ability within his personal arsenal was the uncanny knack for letting someone down.
This was it. This was going to be how everything ended. They would go their separate ways after this, avoid each other during missions, pretend it never happened. It would be difficult to begin with, but all challenges became easier over time.
Yet John knows that the more practical option isn't what he wants. The guilt that coiled around John every day of his life lessened whenever he was with Dorian, a release of bindings chaining him to his personal hell. But now as both of them avoid eye contact every bit of John's self-loathing, anger, guilt, and regret covers him thoroughly. Everything is clouded and attempts to breathe are shoved back down by the demon that tells him he doesn't deserve such a simple luxury.
After draining the rest of his glass in a single swig, John sets it aside and approaches Dorian. Hands clasp around folded forearms. When he speaks his voice falters, knowing he is about to drag them both down in a grip disguised as gentle. In response to "I love you," John's simple, two word reply is:] You shouldn't.
no subject
You shouldn't isn't a rejection amatus. [There he goes again, wrapping his tongue around the endearment like testing the waters, seeing how far he could go with it. Since John just gave him something to chew on, the mage is able to settle himself more appropriately, his arms unwinding so that he could snake them around John and tempt him a little closer, weaken that resolve a bit to their mutual benefit.] And I've never been all that great at listening to what other people tell me over my own intuition, selfish of me perhaps...not that I'm above that sort of thing.
[But what could he do about John's sudden misery? It was awful that he was so relieved when John seemed so miserable about it. Yet here he is pushing the envelope again, his face carefully nudging the column of John's throat, still testing the waters.] I'm sorry, I can't help it.
no subject
You're right, it's not a rejection.
[Amatus. The word was used once again, caught somewhere between settling comfortably and and being spat back out on the grounds of existing as one more thing John doesn't deserve. He doesn't want to be nudged carefully anymore and faces Dorian with a direct eye contact appropriate for the situation.]
But there are things you need to know about me. I'm not a good person. I lie often. I've ruined countless lives. People by my side end up dead or worse. I know you'll protest, say you're strong. And you are. But it's more than the physical threat of death.
[John inhales shakily. It's his turn for a confession. This wasn't how he ever expected to tell Dorian, but they couldn't move forward until the other man knew the truth.]
My arrogance caused the death of a young girl. She was possessed by a demon and had put her trust in me. When I couldn't expel the demon I summoned another to draw the first out. He- [John's voice catches. He's never actually told the story out loud to anyone before, only pieces or allowed other people to speak for him. He's reminded why.] He ripped her apart, Dorian. Tore her from my hands and mutilated her not only in front of my eyes, but her father's. And it still wasn't enough. Once her body was rendered unrecognizable her soul was dragged to an eternity of eternal torment. And I'm destined for the same.
The people with me... my friends... they're all shells of their former selves now. And I've sealed their eternal fate alongside my own. If they're not dead they hide, dependent on substances to bring them to the next day, waiting for the inevitable end as if in a trance. All because I thought I fucking knew best.
That's what kind of man I am. Make choices and damn the consequences at the expense of others. You deserve more than what I've ever been able to offer and every right to change your mind.
[It's an out if Dorian wants to take it. If he's smart, he will.]
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