[When the Goblin wakes, it's with a start - eyes glowing softly as the magic some part of him was using recedes. This isn't the first time he's had this dream, all fire and blood and damnation....
But it is the first time he hasn't woken up alone.
'Dearest.'
The softly spoken word lands on him hard, echoing back from years ago, from another pair of strong arms that never got to hold him this way -
He looks at Vicious, wide-eyed, looking for a moment less like an ancient predator and more like a scared young man. (Something about that look is - how could it be familiar?)
And then...shuddering, he reaches out to wrap his arms around the Shade, burying his face against soft white hair. He has no idea what Vicious had seen. He can still hear his son screaming for him.]
My Knight.
I-
I'm-
[A knot in his throat chokes him, and he sobs again. His voice is so different when he murmurs again, so quiet.]
[He tenses for just a moment as the other embraces him, surprised by-- well, this entire display. He's spent a good bit of time with this man and had yet to really see him this... vulnerable. The gravity of even being asked to spend the night had not escaped him, either. It takes a considerable amount of trust to let someone who knows any of your weaknesses sleep next to you, and Vicious knows that firsthand. This was no small ask.
He grew up in a world where men were not supposed to cry, not to show anything other than pride and strength and willpower, but he knew long ago that he didn't fit in, there. His father made sure he knew that he would never make it in that world. The boy was too emotional, felt things too strongly, was too weak to ever truly stand up for himself or anyone else. But that was why he became Vicious, to force himself to embody the complete opposite of everything he truly was.
Which is why everything he offers the other man in this moment is the complete opposite of his namesake. There is no viciousness here, no cold, uncaring cruelty in the face of someone's anguish and distress. He gathers the smaller, shivering man against his body and breathes a gentle, shuddering sigh into that crown of deep brown curls as he begins to stroke small circles beneath his wings. ]
Of course. [He hums, pressing a kiss to his temple.]
[This is...very new to Kronid. New to a man for whom very little novelty still exists. He's crying, shaking, rattled by something he's moved years beyond; that would be strange enough.
But...then there's more to it.
'You're all right.'
'You're not alone.'
He...finds himself believing it, held tightly, being kissed, being soothed. How long had it been since someone had done this for him? How long since it was Real?
He means it. He cares. For YOU. Let someone care for once. Our chains have gotten so heavy.
Let him help.
I don't know how.
You've already begun.
The choked sobs turn to open ones - the dam has, for the moment, broken open, and Kronid is adrift in the current. He cries for a man long dead, who is and isn't who Vicious is holding. Crying feels strange. He hasn't done it in a long time. He isn't sure he could have, before.
For now, he does. He sobs, and he clings, and he shakes, and he whispers, face buried, soft and without the usual edge:]
[Ugh, this breaks his heart. Whatever Kronid had dreamed about must have really gotten to him... It was a terrifying ordeal in his own mind, even if Vicious didn't recognize any part of it. Until now, anyway... that gentle, desperate voice muffled against him is distantly familiar, and while not entirely unlike Kronid's usual tone, it's... got an entirely different feeling to it. He can't place why, though.
Deserve...? He says it like he was given a gift. Like he's... actually grateful for his presence. When was the last time someone was grateful just to have him around? For so long, he's felt like he was forced onto people, he was too much for others to deal with...
That pang of guilt hits again.
Tell him the truth. Tell him how awful you are before he gets hurt.
No. Not yet. Not now.
He can feel a heat in his cheeks, that familiar tightness in his throat that comes with choking back his own tears-- but he isn't going to make this about him. His tears do not matter, here. He strokes long, dark fingers through the other's hair, closing his eyes with a soft smile. He sounds content, if a little strained.]
I'm glad to be here. [He chuckles. It's a breathless, quiet sound.]
[It's funny, really. How similar these men are without knowing it. Perhaps the Fog has a sense of humor, or perhaps fate does - because while Vicious is at war with himself:
What am I - what are you doing?
I'm lucid. Please. Let me tell him-
Stop it. I'm not you any more. You're dead.
That's what I thought, too. But your heart leapt just now, when he spoke. What do you call that?
Shut UP.
The Goblin sniffles sharply - trying to collect himself. He takes a moment to focus on the hands in his hair, the sound of the Shade's voice, the sting fading on (and in) his chest.
Calm. He - needs to calm.
He finally tilts his head up, the sharp attention and wry tint back in his expression, even if his smile shakes at the corners.]
...Here. Of course I wanted you here. I...like having you around, my Knight.
I...trust you. You are the first presence I have slept in in... a thousand years. It's...nice.
I like...this.
[Dear God Almighty, give me the patience I need to listen to myself talk.]
[If he had a tail, it would be wagging. There's nothing quite like the feeling of being enjoyed, being wanted. Especially to someone who wasn't lucky enough to feel it too often.
There's a new weight to Kronid's request to spend the night now that he knows it's been a thousand years since he's slept in the same bed with someone. That's absurd. How did he not have someone in his bed every night? He's not going to question it out loud, though. He's just going to allow himself to feel as blessed as he thinks he is for being given such an opportunity.]
As do I.
[He hums softly, glancing down to meet his gaze. That expression is more familiar than the last... Kronid must be coming out of it. Good. It hurts to see him like this.]
[The hum that escapes him is... uncertain. Like he doesn't quite believe that. But... he can figure out a way around it without outright accusing him of not being okay.]
Can I... ask you something about it? The nightmare.
[He leans into the petting, closing his eyes for now. This is nice. Very nice. But... he can't pretend he doesn't have questions.]
[He frowns in thought, trying to recall the details enough to relay them. It's a little difficult, he's thoroughly exhausted from the night before, and his short-term memory is definitely suffering for it.]
I-- there was. Fire. Fire, and... people screaming. It looked like... like a town? A village, a little house. Or-- what used to be a house. I'm not sure.
And I was. Bloody. Just... absolute carnage. Like I'd torn someone apart with my bare hands. [He hates to think that that is the more familiar feeling out of the whole nightmare, but. It is.]
But I didn't recognize anything, at all. I've... never been to that place. Never seen it before in my life. But it was like... I could taste everything, feel it all. The ash, the smoke, the blood-- I could feel something burning in my chest, like I'd swallowed fire. It was-- well, it was a nightmare. It was awful.
[Kronid has a very good poker face, as a general rule. Years and years of lying, cheating, and manipulation have seen to that.
But given the circumstances, given how Vicious had just seen him break down, and given that he had never heard the description given spoken by another tongue before-
His smile drops away, the color draining somewhat from his pale face. The Shade can be a little bit obtuse sometimes, but this is not one of those moments. He knows the nightmare was his. He must. Even if he isn't fluent in Romanian, he certainly knows the sound of it.
...Wait. Could he-
FUCK.]
...I...I see.
How odd.
[There is no anger, but - he can see where this is going already.]
[Vicious reaches up to rub at his cheeks, wiping away the residual moisture there. He really can't believe how real the whole thing felt.]
Well. When I woke up, you were... Clutching your chest. Over your scar, there. And you were... Well, you know.
[He can put those puzzle pieces together without any trouble at all, but the almost lackadaisical response is making him a touch nervous. Is this territory he is even allowed to enter?
[And there it is. The penny dropping. For a moment, the former vampire casts about for an answer, a lie, a response that works...but ultimately?
He knows Vicious isn't stupid. Kronid shuts his eyes for a moment, taking a long breath in, and then letting it out in a hiss through his nose.]
Yes. I did. It was...it was my dream. Something from long ago. An old waking nightmare turned sleeping.
[Measured. Cautious. The panic is still fresh in his veins, and it's his focus on tempering that that lets his gaze drop again, voice once again shifting to that odd, softened tone before he can stop it.]
...I'm sorry that you had to feel it. It was an accident.
It makes his own particularly traumatic nightmares pale in comparison, really.
He sighs, settling onto his back and lightly pulling Kronid along with him so that he may settle on his chest or shoulder more comfortably.
The shift in his voice is...interesting. What's going on? Is he just softer in the morning? Not that he minds, he just feels a little crazy, thinking that it's changing at all.]
Yes, I... Saw a man. He was...standing in a doorway, pointing at me. He said... "We are both--"
[He shakes his head and frowns, pushing his hair back and out of his face.]
...something. I don't think I've learned that word, yet. Heh.
[It's easy to tug the smaller man into a different position - he lays with his chin on Vicious's muscular shoulder, trying to keep calm about all this. He had seen his dream. His past. The past that was meant to stay there, locked away where only he can recall it-
When the Shade speaks of the man, when he recites what was said, there is a visible struggle on his face.
He saw me. He heard me. I - we have to tell him. Aren't you tired of bearing this by yourself? He-
Don't. You. Dare.
For a moment his eyes are wide, glanced away from his companion's face...a little panicked, perhaps. That soft voice persists for just another moment.]
That was...that was m....
[He shudders. His eyes and voice sharpen back up, and he looks at Vicious, the self-frustration etching lines into his brow.]
That was...my scar. The burning in the chest. The night it happened.
[A flinch passes through him as Vicious echoes the word back. He scowls at nothing, setting his jaw tight.
Considering his answer.
Tell him. Please. Tell him the truth. He has more than proved he could be trusted with it.
Let me -
NO. Shut UP.
Kronid breathes in and out slowly, tempering himself before speaking. Avoiding...interruption.
He can tell part of the truth. Omit most. Keep it all at bay.]
...The dream is...figurative. Out of order. But the memory...the fire began after I was burned.
The crucifix ignited when it touched me. Branded me. It never healed, and it never will. The fire caught the...the building you saw. The price of hatred for those whose lives you... disagree with, I have thought.
[His tone is level - but his pulse is fast and heavy. Straining to keep something at bay.]
[Vicious knows many dreams tend to be...symbolic. But he also knows this man is an ancient vampire, and the "figurative" part looked and felt pretty literal.
But he's not going to argue with a man over his own dream. He simply nods and purses his lips, finally tilting his head to regard his (is he...nervous?) companion.]
I'm... Sorry that happened to you. Truly. Even just... Seeing what I saw, feeling what I felt... I can't imagine what it must have really been like to experience something so...terrifying.
[He lifts a hand to brush some of those curls back from the other's face, smiling softly, sadly. With their bodies pressed together like this, he can feel the goblin's pulse against his ribs, fast and out of sync with his own. This conversation is surely stressful for him, even if he's trying his best to hold it together... ]
We...don't have to talk about it anymore. If you don't want to. I know it's...probably a sensitive topic.
[For a long moment, Kronid is uncharacteristically silent. His brows are knitted together, even as he leans into the hand that cards through his dark hair.
Vicious is being...gentle. So gentle about this.
Tell him more. Or I will.
Leave me alone.
The struggle is visible again on his expression for a moment - a darting back and forth of the eyes, a clench of the jaw - before finally he speaks back up.The softer tone has lost...for now.]
... It's just that...no one has ever known. Besides myself.
[At least this time he witnesses the struggle, mirroring the worry creasing the smaller man's brow. He can tell he isn't particularly happy to share this piece of history with him, but it still feels... important enough, to Vicious, to be one of the first to ever hear it.]
I-- wow. Thank you... for trusting me enough to tell me.
[He shakes his head, exhaling a soft sigh. What... do you say about something like that? He isn't sure, but... he does still have questions.]
May I ask-- "Those whose lives you disagree with." [He repeats, tilting his head.] What... do you mean by that?
[Kronid may not regret it, and that is his right, but that doesn't stop Vicious from feeling a distinct sort of sorrow for him either way. How many centuries had passed between then and now... and how little had humanity actually changed?
He isn't the best at controlling his expression, so the look of pain and sympathy is quite obvious even as Kronid assures him that he's fine, that he's not sorry for what he did to earn this. He draws his fingertips along the outer edge of the scar, shaking his head slowly.]
...Still, this should have never happened to you.
[His eyebrows knit and his fangs flash with a sneer in a brief flare of anger, but he's-- he's not going to make a scene here. They're having too nice a time. He doesn't want Kronid to regret asking him to stay over, after all.]
One would think the greater sin would be causing harm to someone over love.
[Of course, of course Kronid does not miss that flare of anger, that sympathetic fury crossing the face of his current companion. It's...sort of nice, actually, to have some of his own long-burning rage validated. Not that he needs it, of course, but...well. It's still sort of nice.
He opens his mouth to reply to the latter statement, but he freezes up, just for a second, one word echoing and sticking in his mind.
Sin.
I know so much of sin, don't I? Don't you?
The moment passes swiftly, the Goblin shaking it away in favor of a wry, dark little smile...but his eyes - his eyes are...weary, in a way that only someone as old as he can experience.
There is a faint crackle of electricity in his scar. Not enough to hurt, but enough that Vicious can just feel it, like something in him trying to reach out.
Kronid does not acknowledge it.]
You would think, my Knight. But they had other ideas, back then.
I suppose you're right. You did have the last laugh, didn't you? Outlived them by centuries, doing whatever-- and whoever --you like.
[The smile he gives is a tired one, choosing to accept Kronid's response for what it is instead of delving any deeper into the frustrating reality of the life he's lived.
The crackling sensation beneath his fingertips is curious enough to divert his attention to, head tilting slightly as he brushes his fingers back and forth over the scar and the skin surrounding it.]
...huh. [He blinks, casting a curious glance up to meet Kronid's gaze.]
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transilience
From:
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But it is the first time he hasn't woken up alone.
'Dearest.'
The softly spoken word lands on him hard, echoing back from years ago, from another pair of strong arms that never got to hold him this way -
He looks at Vicious, wide-eyed, looking for a moment less like an ancient predator and more like a scared young man. (Something about that look is - how could it be familiar?)
And then...shuddering, he reaches out to wrap his arms around the Shade, burying his face against soft white hair. He has no idea what Vicious had seen. He can still hear his son screaming for him.]
My Knight.
I-
I'm-
[A knot in his throat chokes him, and he sobs again. His voice is so different when he murmurs again, so quiet.]
...You stayed.
From:
no subject
He grew up in a world where men were not supposed to cry, not to show anything other than pride and strength and willpower, but he knew long ago that he didn't fit in, there. His father made sure he knew that he would never make it in that world. The boy was too emotional, felt things too strongly, was too weak to ever truly stand up for himself or anyone else. But that was why he became Vicious, to force himself to embody the complete opposite of everything he truly was.
Which is why everything he offers the other man in this moment is the complete opposite of his namesake. There is no viciousness here, no cold, uncaring cruelty in the face of someone's anguish and distress. He gathers the smaller, shivering man against his body and breathes a gentle, shuddering sigh into that crown of deep brown curls as he begins to stroke small circles beneath his wings. ]
Of course. [He hums, pressing a kiss to his temple.]
You're alright, don't worry.
You're not alone.
From:
no subject
But...then there's more to it.
'You're all right.'
'You're not alone.'
He...finds himself believing it, held tightly, being kissed, being soothed. How long had it been since someone had done this for him? How long since it was Real?
He means it. He cares. For YOU. Let someone care for once. Our chains have gotten so heavy.
Let him help.
I don't know how.
You've already begun.
The choked sobs turn to open ones - the dam has, for the moment, broken open, and Kronid is adrift in the current. He cries for a man long dead, who is and isn't who Vicious is holding. Crying feels strange. He hasn't done it in a long time. He isn't sure he could have, before.
For now, he does. He sobs, and he clings, and he shakes, and he whispers, face buried, soft and without the usual edge:]
...Thank you.
I...I don't deserve this, you know. Deserve you.
But...
I'm so glad you're here.
From:
no subject
Deserve...? He says it like he was given a gift. Like he's... actually grateful for his presence. When was the last time someone was grateful just to have him around? For so long, he's felt like he was forced onto people, he was too much for others to deal with...
That pang of guilt hits again.
Tell him the truth. Tell him how awful you are before he gets hurt.
No. Not yet. Not now.
He can feel a heat in his cheeks, that familiar tightness in his throat that comes with choking back his own tears-- but he isn't going to make this about him. His tears do not matter, here. He strokes long, dark fingers through the other's hair, closing his eyes with a soft smile. He sounds content, if a little strained.]
I'm glad to be here. [He chuckles. It's a breathless, quiet sound.]
I'm glad you... wanted me. Here. With you.
From:
no subject
He....
[It's funny, really. How similar these men are without knowing it. Perhaps the Fog has a sense of humor, or perhaps fate does - because while Vicious is at war with himself:
What am I - what are you doing?
I'm lucid. Please. Let me tell him-
Stop it. I'm not you any more. You're dead.
That's what I thought, too. But your heart leapt just now, when he spoke. What do you call that?
Shut UP.
The Goblin sniffles sharply - trying to collect himself. He takes a moment to focus on the hands in his hair, the sound of the Shade's voice, the sting fading on (and in) his chest.
Calm. He - needs to calm.
He finally tilts his head up, the sharp attention and wry tint back in his expression, even if his smile shakes at the corners.]
...Here. Of course I wanted you here. I...like having you around, my Knight.
I...trust you. You are the first presence I have slept in in... a thousand years. It's...nice.
I like...this.
[Dear God Almighty, give me the patience I need to listen to myself talk.]
From:
no subject
There's a new weight to Kronid's request to spend the night now that he knows it's been a thousand years since he's slept in the same bed with someone. That's absurd. How did he not have someone in his bed every night? He's not going to question it out loud, though. He's just going to allow himself to feel as blessed as he thinks he is for being given such an opportunity.]
As do I.
[He hums softly, glancing down to meet his gaze. That expression is more familiar than the last... Kronid must be coming out of it. Good. It hurts to see him like this.]
How... are you feeling?
From:
no subject
The question shakes him the rest of the way from his thoughts, and he lets out a weak laugh, moving his hands up to idly play in Vicious's hair.]
I'm fine.
[Almost too brisk, a knee jerk reaction. He takes a long breath, then lets it out in a little rush.]
...It was...just a nightmare. One I've had a few times. It's - nothing.
From:
no subject
Can I... ask you something about it? The nightmare.
[He leans into the petting, closing his eyes for now. This is nice. Very nice. But... he can't pretend he doesn't have questions.]
Because... I, ah. I had one, too.
From:
no subject
Interesting.
He holds his expression steady. Years of practice and all.]
You did?
I...yes. Yes, what is it?
From:
no subject
[He frowns in thought, trying to recall the details enough to relay them. It's a little difficult, he's thoroughly exhausted from the night before, and his short-term memory is definitely suffering for it.]
I-- there was. Fire. Fire, and... people screaming. It looked like... like a town? A village, a little house. Or-- what used to be a house. I'm not sure.
And I was. Bloody. Just... absolute carnage. Like I'd torn someone apart with my bare hands. [He hates to think that that is the more familiar feeling out of the whole nightmare, but. It is.]
But I didn't recognize anything, at all. I've... never been to that place. Never seen it before in my life. But it was like... I could taste everything, feel it all. The ash, the smoke, the blood-- I could feel something burning in my chest, like I'd swallowed fire. It was-- well, it was a nightmare. It was awful.
From:
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But given the circumstances, given how Vicious had just seen him break down, and given that he had never heard the description given spoken by another tongue before-
His smile drops away, the color draining somewhat from his pale face. The Shade can be a little bit obtuse sometimes, but this is not one of those moments. He knows the nightmare was his. He must. Even if he isn't fluent in Romanian, he certainly knows the sound of it.
...Wait. Could he-
FUCK.]
...I...I see.
How odd.
[There is no anger, but - he can see where this is going already.]
What...is your question, then?
From:
no subject
Well. When I woke up, you were... Clutching your chest. Over your scar, there. And you were... Well, you know.
[He can put those puzzle pieces together without any trouble at all, but the almost lackadaisical response is making him a touch nervous. Is this territory he is even allowed to enter?
Ergh. It's too late now. He's already here.]
...did you have the same dream?
From:
no subject
He knows Vicious isn't stupid. Kronid shuts his eyes for a moment, taking a long breath in, and then letting it out in a hiss through his nose.]
Yes. I did. It was...it was my dream. Something from long ago. An old waking nightmare turned sleeping.
[Measured. Cautious. The panic is still fresh in his veins, and it's his focus on tempering that that lets his gaze drop again, voice once again shifting to that odd, softened tone before he can stop it.]
...I'm sorry that you had to feel it. It was an accident.
But...did you see anything else? Anyone?
From:
no subject
[So it is his.
How horrible.
It makes his own particularly traumatic nightmares pale in comparison, really.
He sighs, settling onto his back and lightly pulling Kronid along with him so that he may settle on his chest or shoulder more comfortably.
The shift in his voice is...interesting. What's going on? Is he just softer in the morning? Not that he minds, he just feels a little crazy, thinking that it's changing at all.]
Yes, I... Saw a man. He was...standing in a doorway, pointing at me. He said... "We are both--"
[He shakes his head and frowns, pushing his hair back and out of his face.]
...something. I don't think I've learned that word, yet. Heh.
From:
no subject
When the Shade speaks of the man, when he recites what was said, there is a visible struggle on his face.
He saw me. He heard me. I - we have to tell him. Aren't you tired of bearing this by yourself? He-
Don't. You. Dare.
For a moment his eyes are wide, glanced away from his companion's face...a little panicked, perhaps. That soft voice persists for just another moment.]
That was...that was m....
[He shudders. His eyes and voice sharpen back up, and he looks at Vicious, the self-frustration etching lines into his brow.]
That was...my scar. The burning in the chest. The night it happened.
And the word was naibii.
It means damned.
From:
no subject
Luckily for Kronid, he doesn't catch the momentary panic in the other man's eyes, he's too focused on the ceiling, trying to process all of this.]
It happened... During the fire?
From:
no subject
Considering his answer.
Tell him. Please. Tell him the truth. He has more than proved he could be trusted with it.
Let me -
NO. Shut UP.
Kronid breathes in and out slowly, tempering himself before speaking. Avoiding...interruption.
He can tell part of the truth. Omit most. Keep it all at bay.]
...The dream is...figurative. Out of order. But the memory...the fire began after I was burned.
The crucifix ignited when it touched me. Branded me. It never healed, and it never will. The fire caught the...the building you saw. The price of hatred for those whose lives you... disagree with, I have thought.
[His tone is level - but his pulse is fast and heavy. Straining to keep something at bay.]
It was...a long time ago.
From:
no subject
But he's not going to argue with a man over his own dream. He simply nods and purses his lips, finally tilting his head to regard his (is he...nervous?) companion.]
I'm... Sorry that happened to you. Truly. Even just... Seeing what I saw, feeling what I felt... I can't imagine what it must have really been like to experience something so...terrifying.
[He lifts a hand to brush some of those curls back from the other's face, smiling softly, sadly. With their bodies pressed together like this, he can feel the goblin's pulse against his ribs, fast and out of sync with his own.
This conversation is surely stressful for him, even if he's trying his best to hold it together... ]
We...don't have to talk about it anymore. If you don't want to. I know it's...probably a sensitive topic.
From:
no subject
Vicious is being...gentle. So gentle about this.
Tell him more. Or I will.
Leave me alone.
The struggle is visible again on his expression for a moment - a darting back and forth of the eyes, a clench of the jaw - before finally he speaks back up.The softer tone has lost...for now.]
... It's just that...no one has ever known. Besides myself.
Everyone who was there died that night.
[You killed them all.
No. You did. You didn't need me yet.]
This is the first time I have told...anyone.
From:
no subject
I-- wow. Thank you... for trusting me enough to tell me.
[He shakes his head, exhaling a soft sigh. What... do you say about something like that? He isn't sure, but... he does still have questions.]
May I ask-- "Those whose lives you disagree with." [He repeats, tilting his head.] What... do you mean by that?
From:
no subject
Thank you...for listening.
[But the moment is fleeting - he chuckles humorlessly, grabbing the Shade's hand and dragging it over the cruel scar on his chest.]
I mean...that they came after me when they learned that I laid with another man.
This happened. Because I didn't stack up to what they expected. Someone hurt me for it.
[He kisses the back of the hand.]
I don't regret it. For a moment.
From:
no subject
He isn't the best at controlling his expression, so the look of pain and sympathy is quite obvious even as Kronid assures him that he's fine, that he's not sorry for what he did to earn this. He draws his fingertips along the outer edge of the scar, shaking his head slowly.]
...Still, this should have never happened to you.
[His eyebrows knit and his fangs flash with a sneer in a brief flare of anger, but he's-- he's not going to make a scene here. They're having too nice a time. He doesn't want Kronid to regret asking him to stay over, after all.]
One would think the greater sin would be causing harm to someone over love.
From:
no subject
He opens his mouth to reply to the latter statement, but he freezes up, just for a second, one word echoing and sticking in his mind.
Sin.
I know so much of sin, don't I? Don't you?
The moment passes swiftly, the Goblin shaking it away in favor of a wry, dark little smile...but his eyes - his eyes are...weary, in a way that only someone as old as he can experience.
There is a faint crackle of electricity in his scar. Not enough to hurt, but enough that Vicious can just feel it, like something in him trying to reach out.
Kronid does not acknowledge it.]
You would think, my Knight. But they had other ideas, back then.
...
Fuck them, though. What do they matter now?
From:
no subject
[The smile he gives is a tired one, choosing to accept Kronid's response for what it is instead of delving any deeper into the frustrating reality of the life he's lived.
The crackling sensation beneath his fingertips is curious enough to divert his attention to, head tilting slightly as he brushes his fingers back and forth over the scar and the skin surrounding it.]
...huh. [He blinks, casting a curious glance up to meet Kronid's gaze.]
Can you... Feel that?
From:
no subject
[He grins, chuckling a little, hands moving to play in Vicious's hair. There. The topic is sidestepped -
Until the question.
STOP it.
You can't restrain me forever.
His smile turns strained, shoulders rolling in a would-be casual shrug.]
I do. I'm...not sure what it is. My dream powers misfired...maybe this is just my elemental ones reacting to the conversation. It doesn't hurt.
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