[M] Bastian Lover

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Anaxas' main trade port; it is also the nation's criminal headquarters, home to the Bad Brothers and Silas Hawke, King of the Underworld. The small town of Plugit is nearby.

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Shae
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: Too pretty for you
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Thu Jun 20, 2019 7:49 pm

Intas 40, 2719 | Early Afternoon
Kit's Apartment
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There was no snow today but it felt colder, the chill air seeming to dig into Shae's bones no matter how quickly they walked in a desperate attempt to stir warmth through their limbs. They had their arms wrapped tight around themself, coat held close to their form but it seemed to offer no protection from the frosty weather. The raen always did their best to wrap up when they went out but the winter was a harsh one and they didn't have the highest quality of clothing. Typically, they wore a multitude of layers, padded out in a desperate attempt to stop themself from freezing but today they lacked all the extra clothing that had become their staple and so they felt the temperatures quite keenly.

When they'd left the house the previous night, they hadn't thought about all the extra clothing they'd need to bring or much of anything if they were honest. All the youth had been thinking in fact was that they wanted to put as much distance between themself and the apartment as possible. As if Kit would have returned almost as soon as he'd left. As if he wasn't likely to stay out hours, maybe even houses after he came home to drop off his guitar. But their nerves had been frazzled, the former wick lost in a dreamy singing reverie with their own instrument clasped loosely where they half sat, half curled on the couch until their roommate came in.

He'd been a bit aloof and had gone out drinking they knew, a gentle inquiry having been made beforehand that had made them realise that there was nothing they could do for him, no comfort that they could provide. He'd been waspish, a sign that he was slipping into one of his melancholy moods and something that they had personally slipped into before as well so they had thought to leave him to his own mind for a bit, assuming that he might want to have a chance to think in peace; it was something they find they needed and it could help some. When he'd said he was going out, there had been a sense that the golly didn't want company and furthermore, he apparently wanted to keep it that way for quite some time; he'd explained that he'd be out late. Maybe it had stung a little, the seeming Bastian feeling inadequate and more than a little sorry for themself for being so useless; they'd wanted to be there for him as he had so often been there for them.

In the scheme of things, Shae came up short.

As such, it came as quite a shock when he came in, the realisation that he'd found company catching them entirely off-guard. The man had picked up a male lover, one who was yelling outside with the Bastian lilt and a cultured tone that was still evident despite his clear inebriation.

A galdor?

The teenager had been scared to ask, not wanting their suspicions to be true, not wanting any of their suspicions to be true because they didn't want to believe that they lacked something that the other could have provided and the sound of that voice was likely to unfurl a list of how poorly they measured up.

Delectable. If this man was delectable then... what were they?

Not that they were entirely sure what delectable meant but it seemed to be a good thing based on how Kit said it; they had an idea what it might mean given the context. And it hadn't mattered how affectionate he'd been with them... it wasn't them that he wanted.

He'd given a warning, something that had sent their heart nervously aflutter, raven-haired youth not wanting to be present for when himself and his lover - as that was what he would become - returned. They'd managed to remain a state of frozen surprise for a good minute or two after his departure and then they had sprung into panicked action. They'd all but ran to Delyth's, the temperatures and the frosty flakes that the morose sky spat at their petite form had hardly registered in their flight.

Why did they feel it so keenly now? Was it a fear of what they would find? A small heaviness of heart about returning to him as if they had done something bad and were now crawling back to him? They shouldn't encounter this lover of his, the late hour quite intentional. Surely by now, Kit would be alone. Surely by now, he might want them.

But what if he didn't? What if their company was still not enough for him? What if he wandered off again? They could only hope that he was open to them, that they could curl into the warmth of his embrace and have him banish the cold misery from body and soul. Their own inadequacies would melt away if he just held them, even if after the night he'd had, they might be something of a consolation prize. They didn't know but they did hope that he needed them and had missed them as much as Shae had missed him.

Which was odd really. Why had they missed him quite so much?

When they reached the door, the raen paused, cocking their head to the side to determine what could be heard from within. Was that music? Quietly, they twisted the handle and pushed their way inside, still listening intently, a soft puzzlement on their face. A new song? They hadn't heard the galdor work on composing a new song in... well... actually they didn't thing they had. A few creatively strummed chords or a hummed bar here and there didn't count as composition really but this...

They weren't sneaking, not really. The fact that Kit wasn't likely to hear them had nothing to do with any attempt at stealth on their part. They just wanted to hear him. They also didn't want to throw him off. It wasn't like they were trying to gain insight into him when he was unaware.

The music and the words drifted from the bedroom, the raen creeping - yes, okay, it was definitely creeping, okay? - towards it, wondering if he was alone and hoping that that was the case. The lyrics they could hear though... The former wick didn't feel warmed by his near presence but found themself more greatly chilled, the weight in their heart seeming to increase.

A Bastian? He was singing about... a Bastian. But it wasn't a simple description of one of those folks but a song that held romance to it. Oh, maybe he wouldn't admit that, he wasn't the sort who had inconvenient feelings after all, but it definitely had the tone of a love ballad to Shae's ears.

A Bastian lover.

From the doorway, they could see the state of the room, the bed, sights that their grey-blue gaze skittered over hastily, not wanting to settle and risk absorbing details while they sought the man himself. Arms wrapped around their torso as if seeking warmth, the youth took in his state of dress - or veritable lack thereof - and his attractively dishevelled hair as those long fingers moved over strings, caressing it seemed to their eyes, touching the guitar in a way that had sensuality to it. It was like the song he sang was bleeding outwards, the composition lending a passion and tenderness to his movements directly inspired by the subject. He held the instrument like the damn lover he appeared so keen to blather on about.

"Feeling inspired, are you?" they asked, an edge to the words that came from gritted teeth, a rictus that could almost pass as a grin if it wasn't for the rigidity, the lack of true warmth or friendliness behind it; their eyes were cold. Unbeknownst to them, the tremor in their insides translated to real movement, the female body trembling a little as they stood staring at him.

"Found someone to inspire your muse?" Shae questioned sardonically, the partial twist at one side of their mouth easily mistaken for a smirk although it was truly the beginning of a sneer; disdainful, hating and disgusted.

It was that delectable man from last night. He was singing about that man that he'd just met and would probably never see again. Or maybe he would, maybe they would become a thing! Apparently, he had plenty to offer, loads going for him if Kit was sitting here working away on music as if Shae had never even existed. What were they? A drain. A total waste of space. Sweet Lady...

"Did you miss me, Kit or did you not notice that I was gone? I mean... you've forgotten before that I was here so..."

Why were these words coming out of their mouth? Why couldn't they stop them? Why did they have that edge to them? Needling him and trying to find a weak spot to... what?

What did Shae even want?


Last edited by Shae on Tue Jun 25, 2019 1:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Kit
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Mon Jun 24, 2019 3:08 pm

40th Intas | Early afternoon
Kit’s apartment
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It had been a good morning. Kit couldn’t remember much of last night other than magenta fumes and peach brandy, but that meant it had been a good night as well, and the dishevelled head next on the pillow next to his own had certainly been a fine one. Fine enough that the musician had offered the man breakfast... and a second round that they would both be sober enough to remember.

He hadn’t brought himself to dress even after Elias left, preferring to stay in sheet-swaddled limbo, as if somehow garments would make him a real person and everything true and terrible would come crashing back. He’d reached for his guitar, just intending to pass the time with some practice, idle fingers teasing over the strings, but somehow his head was full of words and melodies.

Calloused fingers beckoned them out to the strings, tongue coaxed, and a song started to take shape. Dark hair, sharp eyes and a wicked tongue...

It was a while before Kit realised he was thinking about Shae, and the revelation startled him so much that he nearly gave up on the song entirely.

...I suppose...the muse descends where it will…

He chuckled and gave in.

“...why waste it, eh?”

------------


He was working out the last kinks when he heard the front door creak open, and quiet footsteps paused for a moment before his friend came hesitantly into view.

"Feeling inspired, are you?"

“Very much so. Afternoon, darling.” He didn’t look up, humming as his fingers moved, trying to find the right chord for a phrase.Storm eyes deep as...deep...no, what was it…”

"Found someone to inspire your muse?"

The tone of her voice finally cut through, and Kit's fingers stilled on the strings, the last note he'd plucked still humming in the air, ringing through the hollow instrument before fading.

...she’s angry about something...what…

"Did you miss me, Kit or did you not notice that I was gone? I mean... you've forgotten before that I was here so..."

“Well, you were up and about so early, I didn’t even hear you leave.”

He tried to keep his tone light, conversational, but the damage had been done and he could feel his tentative hold on cheer slipping. He clutched desperately at the last tendrils of that warm, pleasant overlay that a morning of music had woven over the cloying fog, but they tumbled through his fingers like so many glittering, slippering fish away into the depths.

In a desperate attempt to keep from sliding into the abyss, he caught hold of the only emotion that swam to the surface- irritation.

“Would you like to tell me what’s upset you?”

His words were clipped, precise, as he looked up to meet her gaze, expression carefully blank.

“...or do I have to guess?”


...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...
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Shae
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: Too pretty for you
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Tue Jun 25, 2019 4:01 pm

Intas 40, 2719 | Early Afternoon
Kit's Apartment
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He was happily oblivious, it was why they hadn't been able to stop themself after the first question. He just agreed, still working on his chords and his words, composing as if they hadn't just returned to him after effectively being banished for the night. He didn't realise that Shae was angry and in that moment when he was caught in his bubble of fruitful composition, they chose to do their utmost to pop it. Afterwards, it would be something they'd regret, all too aware that they'd been too bloody self-centred, too concerned with their own sore feelings to consider the pleased air about him, which had grown scarce in recent days. If the raen had taken a moment to look at things from a perspective where they weren't the most important being in the world then they would have left him alone. Even though it would have meant hurting alone because he was happy. They should have just let him be happy.

Instead, they'd had to needle him, the second question carrying more obvious displeasure, the musician's fingers stilling and leaving that hum, which seemed to reverberate within a hollow aching space within the former wick's own heart. Had the space been there before they came in? Yes, certainly but it had grown bigger since they'd come in and heard him singing, each humming chord and every note in his rich baritone voice carved away at them, enlargening the space and making each beat a pained throb. How could their heart hurt? How could the everyday act of pumping blood have become something approaching agony as if it was twisting, trying to shift free of its typical moorings?

What the fuck was wrong with them?

And yet in spite of the pain or perhaps because of it, a fire seared through them, rage and frustration blazing within them and the flames only seemed to grow higher as the galdor opened his mouth. Tongues of inner flame licked greedily at his casual admittance as it filtered in through their ears, the man evidently having drunk so much that he didn't even remember coming back and speaking to them or returning after they were gone. And to say it so lightly, so happy-go-lucky. If they'd had a hope of making an impact in this pitiful form, they'd have slapped him for his cruelty - from their perspective. He apparently remembered all about his delectable Bastian lover as he composed away but the foundling who'd been living with him these last months was quite forgettable it seemed.

They breathed in deeply, chest heaving with the aggression of it and nostrils flaring.

"So early? You mean last night? I was here the first time you were here and was gone before you came back but you obviously don't remember that. How nice for you to just be able to wipe your memory clean with your little pleasures," Shae remarked acidly, crossing arms hard across their chest. They'd been cold before - were still chilled to the touch - but now it felt as if their very blood was aflame.

If only they could forget so readily, could allow themself to lose control in such a manner.

To forget that they were a murderer.

To forget the life that had been lost to them, a too real dream.

To forget that abominable cold and loneliness and sucking, deadly emptiness that had been the time between lives.

But they couldn't do what Kit did, couldn't push themself to the boundaries of conscious existence because they'd done it before and found it terrifying, the tendrils that were hooked into what had previously been Cordelia Gillespie all too ready to come free when Shae wasn't clinging to this form.

They couldn't die again and end up in that awful place, especially as they felt that with time they'd have to get out of it - would do anything to get out of it - and they couldn't murder again, couldn't let Cordelia's death be in vain either.

Horribly, they felt the hot sting of tears, blue-grey orbs burning and feeling ready to melt right out of the sockets. Except not yet, the crying wasn't going to start yet although it was coming. For now, they just hurt and stung and reminded Shae that they couldn't even control their emotions very well in this soft golly body!

"Upset? Is that what you think I am, Kit? Fucking upset? Do I look fucking upset?" the raen shrieked, voice pitching in an ugly manner and quite successfully undermining any claim they might make about not being upset. "I'm not upset, Kit, I'm pissed. I know you think that I'm a total waste of space, I know that I'm a total waste of space but I'm fucking trying, you know? It'd be really nice if you'd actually treat me as a person who you could... I don't know, maybe talk to about the fact that you're a mopey bastard? But no, clearly it's better to go off and make it very clear that you don't want my company, don't want anyone's company and then come home singing about your de-lect-able fucking Bastian what? Galdor? He sounded like a galdor to me. Some plum educated kov with all the cultured golly chroveshit that you all like to talk about."

They had to breathe but their face was already scarlet, breath coming too fast and heavy, the youth unable to keep their tongue stilled for long. Their arms had dropped, fists clenched at their sides so hard that their nails were digging painfully into their palms. Tek was beginning to pepper their speech, just the odd word and it was something that came out when they were distressed, the pidgin little known to them except for a few simple words kept since their earliest childhood and only surfacing at odd moments.. But swearing and crudeness... they were something that they had far greater fluency in, the young wick having kept those in practice, finding it easier to commit them to memory because they were taboo. Their mother would have twisted their ear off for saying such things in her earshot. They weren't meant to sound wick. They were meant to sound good and proper and golly. The gollies knew full well what they were of course but it was all a charade, a pretty little game of pretend.

Shae wasn't doing a lot of pretending now and there was no effort to talk pretty for this golly. Kit was going to see their ugliness and have to deal with it.

"His company is fine but it's my company that ent wanted, is that it? What am I here for Kit? Ent good enough to talk to, ent good enough to fuck, ent- what? Kov enough for you? Golly enough for you? Don't I put up with ye moping 'round at times, acting like ye don't even want me 'round and then going out and throwing yourself at anyone. Everyone. But fine, yeah, I let you do your thing, leave when you ask me to so that you can do this-"

They waved a hand wildly, indicating his current state.

"Gave ye plenty of time to do whatever the fuck ye want with a bit of peace and ye don't even remember? You don't even care? I'm not a piece of the furniture, you stupid golly bastard!"


Last edited by Shae on Tue Jul 09, 2019 4:51 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Kit
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Mon Jul 08, 2019 3:36 pm

40th Intas | Early afternoon
Kit’s apartment
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The next thing she said made him laugh, though there was an edge to it, an edge that grew sharper with every word as he realised what she thought of him. The golly went to reply, to explain, but she barely stopped for breath.

...she was out all night… why the FUCK would she do that...

Kit stared, dumbfounded, as this torrent of bile spewed from his tiny friend, his frustration building with every heated word that spilled from her lips.

He expected her to run out of steam, to realise how clocking ridiculous she sounded, but Shae just… just carried on and on, and it wasn't irritation that Kit was feeling now- it was anger. He looked down at his guitar, taking the neck gently in one hand and lifting it out of the way as he disentangled his legs from the sheets with the other. When he spoke it wasn't loud, wasn't harsh, it was simply...deliberate.

"He was, yes. He was a galdor. It was refreshing to spend time with someone who understands just how hard it is to be a golly in this town. You don't see many, have you ever noticed that? We don't thrive here, not without becoming something... different, something alien- like the Taxman. He's not a galdor any more, not really. It was also refreshing to spend time with someone-"

...someone I don't care about. Someone who could break entirely and I'd not have a single regret…

Legs free, he swung them over the side of the bed farthest from the furious witch, leaning over to set the instrument gently against the wall.

Elbows on his knees, he spoke to the scarred and pitted floorboards, low and very carefully controlled.

"-someone who knows the deal. Who doesn't, for some absurd reason, think that because I fuck them that they have some kind of claim on my life. A man understands that... an adult understands that."

...stupid. Why can't she just see that I needed it… that I need to not think, to not feel…

"How shortsighted, how self-obsessed do you have to be to utterly fail to see that this is not. About. You."

He looked up finally, jaw set, mouth a hard line, a muscle under his left eye twitching once twice.

"Not everything is about you. And what part, precisely, of 'I need the bedroom tonight' translated in your little wick head as 'get the fuck out of my apartment until noon'?"

The frustration boiled over and he stood abruptly, gesticulating sharply with one elegant hand, the other running through his hair. "You stupid, stupid girl. Do you have any idea what could have happened? Where the fuck were you?"

The volume was rising now, the man clearly trying to control it, trying not to shout... Shae might have broken into Tek in her temper, but when Kit was angry you could hear every single word, crystal clear.


...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...
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Shae
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Tue Jul 09, 2019 6:29 am

Intas 40, 2719 | Early Afternoon
Kit's Apartment
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Shae couldn't have controlled their temper right now if their life had depended on it. The only thing that could stop the flow of their furious words was the need to breathe, small chest heaving with the effort and made all the harder by the impending tears and what felt like the tightening of their airways.

They'd always been passionate, too much of their father in them that's what their mother had always said. Always making things about them, always blowing things out of proportion, always having to have things their own way or no way at all. They'd always been a free spirit, disliking the manner that they'd had to adopt and had to make part of them utterly so that it wasn't a lie. So that they could interact with galdori without going crimson as they went through their routine of 'sir' and 'ma'am' and 'happy to serve'. They'd done it so well that they'd had their own kind snigger and sneer at them, spokes finding it unaccountably funny. But that's what you got with tsats, wasn't it? Galdori in wick shape but without any of the advantages. The gollies still looked down on you, slept with you as if you were a novelty and it was big of them to have done it. As if being willing to touch you was a kindness. Hadn't they been a galdori toy so readily discarded with laughter and sneers? Shae had always laughed it off, always found some humour in the situation, some positive twist to things so that they didn't have to feel like they were a freak.

"You speak so well for a wick! Oftentimes I find I can't understand more than a word or two of what you lot string together-"

"Ye're fair fancy talkin' fer a tekaa, ent ye? Ne, y'ent got more'n a pina bit o' Tek. Ye're more jent kov-"

He didn't understand what they'd had to listen to over the years, how much they'd let slide off them - outwardly at least. It wasn't something that left you and yet here was another galdor looking down on them. They'd thought that Kit was different, they really had. That's why this hurt so much. They'd thought that they had more worth to him than that, not just some wick to be used and abused and tossed aside when they stopped being interesting.

He'd been so kind in the beginning, so-

He thought you were golly. He took you in because he thought you were golly, their mind whispered treacherously, digging the knife in, twisting it hard.

"-how hard it is to be a golly in this town."

Hard? He didn't know what hard was! To him, things were hard because of the life he'd led before, the privilege he'd come from before, the bloody pampered fucking posh boy-

"Oh is it very difficult for you?" they questioned, voice a mockery of sympathy, derision dripping from it. "Epaemo! How awful to have a place where
you aren't one of our betters. Must be lonely not having enough of the right kind of ersehole around."


They couldn't stop themself. Every word that came from his mouth was like a dagger to the heart and he was hurting them so much; either he didn't realise it or he didn't care. The raen just wanted to return the favour, let him feel just a fraction of what they themself were feeling as their heart bled out within them. He wasn't even looking at them. Why wouldn't he just look at them and see that they were ready to collapse into a heap on the floor and salt it with their tears? The tears had begun to dribble down their cheeks now, boiling out of them from the heat of their emotions.

"Who's an adult, you or him? Havakda! Gollies aren't adults, don't be stupid! You don't grow up! I mean, look at you, you're nearly twice my age and you're nothing. You've done nothing, you just play music and bed hop and drink. You're pathetic even by golly standards. Is that why you're so scared to be around your own kind? Does it make you feel better to be the big jent in with all the wicks and humans?"

They laughed, high and mockingly, an awkward little hiccup in the midst of it from a sob that tried to rise up their throat.

"I'm so sorry that I didn't want to hear you going at it. Was I meant to be here to cheer you on last night? And this morning? I'm sure there was a this morning because I know you! I wasn't going to come back to that, ye chen?" the former wick snapped out, everything much worse now that he'd actually looked at them. Much worse now that they could see the twitch under his eye and know that they were pissing him off.

Good!

"You don't know everything, you golly bastard or you'd know not to call me a fucking girl. You're too wrapped up in yourself to take a hint but let me tell you now. You don't know me at all and you've no claim on me either."

On impulse, they turned on their heel and marched out of the room, making a feeble attempt to slam the bedroom door behind them but their coordination seemed to be going. The raen felt a bit drunk. In fact, their sense of physical control felt so off that it reminded them of their early days of this life back in Vortas, the uneasy body connection that had almost hurled them out of it when they bumped into Kit in the first place. Their concentration had shifted and the tendrils weren't as secure as they'd been. The scattered mona that dogged them hummed and seemed to fidget around them, revelling in their agitation, gleeful; it was as if they thought they were finally going to be rid of the invader.

The golly-bodied wick had to place shaking hands on the back of the couch, trying to keep themself together and needing the support so that their jellied legs wouldn't simply collapse beneath them.

Gods, what had they done to themself?

Adrenaline vibrated through them and the horror and misery of the moment drew a sob from deep in their chest, the force of it almost sending them to their knees.

Sweet Lady, were they going to die again? This reminded them of dying. They couldn't lose this body, they couldn't lose it, it was the most important-

Kit.

- thing in this life. The single most important thing in their life, there wasn't anything else, there wasn't, there really-

Kit!


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Kit
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Thu Jul 11, 2019 7:36 am

40th Intas | Early afternoon
Kit’s apartment
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Nothing? She thought he was nothing?

...sorry darling, I've known that for years... he thought, bitterly.

No matter how true it was, that cruel, cutting indictment of his entire life, neatly summed up in one sentence, shattered the remnants of his self-control and the golly's handsome face twisted in anger, spitting out words like they pained him.

"Don't you DARE to pass judgement on me, like you're some superior being." Utterly unconcerned with his own state of undress, he closed the distance between them, catching the bedpost and jerking himself round the foot of the bed with such violence that the furniture screeched along the floorboards.

"An adult would damned well talk to the person they share a living space with rather than sniping at them for having the gall to not be a FUCKING MIND READER. I am not about to curtail my life for some child- yes, thank you for reminding me, half my clocking age!"

He stared at her incredulously, one hand a death grip on the bedstead, the other twitching like he was trying desperately not to make a fist.

"No, I don't know anything, and whose fucking FAULT is that?" the golly roared as she fled the room. "I have been so clocking PATIENT with you, but all you ever do is run, and hide, and run away again."

Two long strides and he was flinging open the door Shae had so unsuccessfully attempted to slam, hard enough that it bounced off the wall, the handle leaving a dent in the plaster.

There she was, hiding again.

...I thought you understood…

Something inside him was breaking, under all the rage and fury and it made him desperate to drown it out, to distract the pain with a sharper hurt, a brighter flame. He knew the anger wasn't for her, not really.

It was for himself, for his own stupidity, his own inevitable fucking fall from grace. Again.

...why do I even try...

He just couldn't stop. Maybe it was that if he took this in his own hands now then it was under his control… he wasn't constantly waiting for the hammer to fall…

...she should get out now...go find someone who's not just going to hurt her…someone worth something...

Hands clinging to either side of the doorframe so he didn't do something unbelievably stupid with them, didn't drag her up by her collar, Kit yelled after the quivering youth.

"I scraped you off the FUCKING COBBLES, I fed you, I for some godsforsaken reason took you into my home- MY HOME, and this is what I get for it? You ungrateful fucking ERSE. If my company is so reprehensible, so worthless, why subject yourself to it?"

...I need you…

"I should have left you in the gutter with your vomit."

...no, I don't need anyone, it's better…

"Why are you even HERE?"

...don't leave me…

"Get out. Get out of my GODSDAMNED HOUSE!"


...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...
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Shae
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: Too pretty for you
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Thu Jul 11, 2019 12:30 pm

Intas 40, 2719 | Early Afternoon
Kit's Apartment
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To say that they'd crossed a line would be a gross understatement. It implied that they'd just barely slipped across it, taken things just a little too far when in actual fact they'd done the equivalent of sprinting across it like it was a finish line and then kept right on running. Oh they'd certainly won here, achieved exactly what they'd wanted when they walked in and opened their mouth and let all the bile spill out of it. They'd wanted to piss him off, know that they could get under his skin as readily as they got under theirs. They'd succeeded in doing that very well given the state that Kit was now in, a rage that they would hardly have thought that the posh galdor could possibly contain.

But he wasn't containing it, was he?

Even if he'd somehow managed to keep that look from his face or the fury and volume from his voice, Kit was quite literally oozing rage everywhere. They could feel the furious pulse as the mona around him roared back and forth like the sea in a gale; it was no wonder that the porven field that surrounded the former wick seemed full of so many gleeful monic particles; maybe their kin was going to forcibly oust the raen from the corpse they'd pilfered.

Dead woman walking...

The thought chased itself around Shae's brain as everything around them swayed and heaved, their own distress ready to buck them right out of Cordelia's delicate form.

Kit's words were succeeding in having an almost physical impact but that wasn't why they retreated into the living room - the common living space really. He was right, they were always ready to run. If they didn't like something then they ran. They'd tried to run away from the restrictive way of life that their mother had raised them in. Tried to run from the expectations that seemed to come from the spoke kin, the disappointment that seemed to linger in their father's gaze. They'd tried running from the riots and gotten themself killed and had done such a good job of running away that they'd apparently managed to free themself of the normal Cycle altogether, leaving them stuck in an awful unliving limbo. They'd even run from that, ending up in undeath instead, left with a life and responsibilities and dangers that weren't their own, a body that wasn't their own, a husband who wanted to impregnate them as fast as possible, regardless of their willingness. They'd managed to run into Kit's arms and done a new form of running without actually going anywhere: evasion.

How little had the raen told him about their life? He knew next to nothing about them because they'd done their best to keep as far away from the truth as possible, never tried to explain matters of their own gender but it was fine; if they didn't talk about any of it then they didn't have to face it either.

So really, how could he know anything? How could he be expected to know all of the moony chroveshit that had taken root in the youth's head? While they couldn't lie to save themself, they weren't actually transparent; he couldn't look into their head to gain a sense of their insecurities and pathetic neediness and their childish, unbelievably self-centred idiocy.

Kit was right about so much and they had to get away from that, had to get away from the fruits of their own pettiness. And no matter how awful they felt, no matter how guilty, their brain decided to use all of it as fuel for the furnace of their anger and own bloody impulsiveness.

Maybe, on some impossibly slim chance, they might have fallen at his feet and begged forgiveness, dropped before him and bawled and screamed and tried to stay in his presence, to await a time when they would calm down, when they would both calm down and they could have a conversation. Shae could prove that they were an adult, a reasonable person, that they weren't ungrateful but that they were a bloody stupid erse who felt so utterly useless and helplessly dependent on him, that they had a debt to him that they could never hope to repay. That they needed him but there was no way that Kit could possibly need them and they'd just aired all their frustrations on him. They'd chosen to dig the knife in instead of having a conversation.

But his screaming continued and he demanded that they get out and with that, the very slim chance vanished utterly.

They'd been waiting for that. It was one of their main fears. They were so hopeless and useless and contributed nothing so when would he throw them out? When would he get sick of the fucking parasite in his midst - and oh what a parasite they were, if only he knew - and put them right back where the galdor had found them? Without the older man, what were they? Where did they have to go? Without him, they might have to go crawling back to that smarmy golly husband of Cordelia's with his outwardly pleasant smiles but nasty words and threats behind closed doors?

The last thing they wanted to do was leave but he wanted them gone-

Of course he fucking does, why would he want you?

- and they were too mad with fury and bitterness and frustration and terror and the sickening whirl of their existence. So of course they couldn't be sensible.

"Fine! Happy to!" they shrieked, reeling almost drunkenly away from the couch, face puce from rage and tears, whirling briefly on him and regretting it as the spin almost landed them in a heap. They suspected that they were going to get sick from the vertigo of it.

"I'll leave! And you can celebrate seeing the back of me. Go fall into a bottle and shag something with a pulse, you're good at that," they spat out, mind already whirling with empty possibilities. Where would they go, what could they do, what did they even own? They happened to spot their coat, which they had oh so carelessly fled without last night. They snatched it up, clumsy fingers dropping it immediately so that they had to fumble to drag it up.

An effort, such an effort. They'd never detested this body so much in their brief new life as they did at this moment and unbeknownst to them, it was one of the very reasons that it was slipping from their control now, the marionette of Cordelia having its strings cut one by one.

"Go find some other stray to distract you and make you feel good about your miserable fucking hole of a life."

With those delightful parting words, Shae staggered out the door, managing to close this one behind them as they basically swung out of its handle, stumbling back into the wall opposite when they let go. They had to hold onto everything just to navigate their way onto the street, needing every support and handhold so that they didn't end up breaking their neck. The cold hit them at once, dousing them in ice as all the sweat that had dewed on their furious form met the frosty weather of Intas. It set them gasping, shivering violently, the shock of it like a punch in the gut. The rage was gone now, desperation and terror all that they had left as they managed to propel themself away, trying to put as much distance between them and the apartment as possible before the inevitable happened. They could feel it, the body they'd stolen writhing on the inside.

The raen managed to get down an alley, too dizzy and turned about to know how far they'd gotten or whether they were facing back towards the apartment or not. They dropped, limbs gone as they collapsed first to knees and then their face on the ground.

So weak.

So awful.

They had to struggle to muster the energy to raise themself a little, turn their head to the side and puke up some of the meagre breakfast that they'd managed to get into them in Delyth's that morning. Shaking, they rested their head against the stone.

They just... needed to rest. Just... for a little while.

Eyelids fluttered and hot tears oozed out, quickly growing gritty in feel.

Kit... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of it. Please...

It was too late for apologies now.


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Kit
Posts: 60
Joined: Fri Jan 04, 2019 1:03 pm
Topics: 3
Race: Galdor
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Writer: Foxing
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Fri Jul 12, 2019 3:20 pm

40th Intas | Early afternoon
Kit’s apartment
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She left.

Of course she left, stumbling out like she was three sheets to the wind, desperate to get away from him. Kit felt a flash of concern- maybe she was sick again, like she'd been when they met- but somehow it only made him more angry.

...more likely fucking guttered…

So much adrenaline was coursing through him, his field roaring red, the mona agitated, eager to pour this energy into something, anything.

But all he could do was scream, wordless and ragged until his voice cracked and clenched fists hit damp and cracking plaster again and again. He barely registered the pain when his knuckles split but then crimson smeared the dirty white surface before him and suddenly he was weeping, great, heaving sobs that robbed the breath from his lungs as he slid down the wall.

Slumped on the floorboards, bloody fingers twisted in his hair, Kit cried until there was nothing left.

...just like me…


Naked. Alone.

...nothing...



...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...
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