it gives him enough time to go down to his bike, throwing on his jacket and gloves as he waits for vash to respond. he mentally kicks himself for not simply taking vash home like he originally intended but here they are now. ]
what the fuck if you ended up putting the wrong address in im gonna kick your ass
[ nick was used to traveling alone. it was part of the job description really, and nick finds that it's just easier to do so than to have any sort of companion aside from his horse. there is peace in the quiet between towns and villages, and it's one less thing for him to worry about when trouble inevitably finds him. after years of going alone, it wasn't something he was looking to change anytime soon.
which is, of course, when he discovers that the creature that had been following him around is actually a human.
but he doesn't know that just yet, too stunned while staring at the (very pretty) blond washing up in the stream he'd camped by the night before. the supplies he'd gone to town to fetch is still thankfully in his hands, but try as he might, he can't look away, even if he should really turn around and give the man his privacy. he'll get to that in a bit, but for now— ]
( in retrospect, it really would have been nicer if he'd been more forthcoming — knowing that he was a much more intelligent creature than he saw fit to let on at the very least would have been helpful — but what is it they say about hindsight, something-something-perfect-vision …
if you ask him, things are more fun this way, and it isn't exactly like he's hurting anyone. right? ight.
he'd taken to following wolfwood around because he both looked and smelled interesting, and sometimes that's really all you need for someone with an attention span like this to latch on; he hasn't chased him off, and sometimes even welcomes him into the circle of his campsite to share the fire when he builds it, tosses him scraps of dried meat or bread when there's enough to share and doesn't mind too much if he wakes up with a tightly-curled-into-itself ball of yellow fluff and feathers close enough to reach out and touch. if he so chose.
he never has, but that's neither here nor there. the point is that he'd thought he would have more time to finish washing himself up before his return, but maybe he'd taken a little long to enjoy simply splashing around in the water as he often does and lost track of … well, everything until that gruff, pleasant voice is barking something out at him, and he turns, unashamed of his nakedness, grinning widely and pushing damp hair off of his forehead. )
Oh, morning. I thought I'd have more time until you came back— ( hey, vash, you might want to start with explaining who the hell you are, but if nick is paying attention, he might just notice a pile of shed feathers at his feet. maybe that will be telling enough. )
You've, ah, never seen me like this, huh … ( YOU KNOW HE HASN'T?? ) Name's Vash.
[ sometimes you have to make your own opportunities. wolfwood's been dealt shitty hand after shitty hand for most of his life — getting whisked away to a luxury hotel that runs on hedonism alone is honestly par for the course at this point. of course he wouldn't catch a break. did you find a reason to put down your cross? conrad had asked him, and he still isn't sure what's worse — not finding a reason to, or finding one. and now, he gets to start all over again.
but anyway. ]
Where I'm from, one night's plenty.
[ but there's a flicker of something warm somewhere in the blackened cavity of his chest that he'd thought was incapable of feeling, something... pleased, almost. a little bittersweet. he lets himself fall back onto the mattress, tucking one arm behind his head as the other dangles off the side, looking like he could fall right asleep if he wanted to. the lazy smile still on his face says otherwise as he flicks ash from his cigarette off the side of the bed. they're close enough to touch, and while normally he'd be more intent about keeping his space, he finds he doesn't mind it so much now. ]
Hey, I got an expensive habit to fund. And my self-control's worth shit.
[ A short breath leaves his nose as if he could have laughed, soft and quiet, calm irreverence glimmering against the backdrop of his understanding. By being next to this man, he feels a heaviness on his shoulders, a dedication that trudges on, one that can be leveled and wielded. ]
Nothing's forever, hm?
[ It sounds rhetorical, but for Kizuna, it's always been a genuine wonder, so personal that he doesn't really expect an answer. With his free arm, Kizuna gestures for him to bring that hand with the cigarette up from where it dangles off the side of the bed, dripping flecks of ash onto nice carpet. There is a sort of char to it, this presence filling up between them that Kizuna can feel because he's always been able to feel it: the scrape of the embers, the glow beneath. He likes it, that kind of thing. ]
I wonder how many around here are treating it like their last night, addictions and all.
[ the sound is echoed, one corner of wolfwood's lips tugging up into something wry. accepting and commiserating all at once. ]
Nah. [ smoke softens his tone as he opens his eyes and turns his head to look at kizuna, brown on gold, veiled behind his sunglasses. ] But you keep wishin' they are anyway.
[ at his core, this has never changed: a haunted man who paid the price of a bargain made for the safety of the only place he'd been able to call home. no price is too steep, even if he continues to pay it now and likely will for as long as he'll live. if he's lucky, maybe it won't be much longer. but again, luck was never on his side since the day he was born on that godforsaken desert of a planet.
he lifts the cigarette from where it dangles off the side of the bed, taking one last drag before passing it over to kizuna. he doesn't know if the guy smokes, but a little sharing didn't hurt anyone. ]
What about you? [ he takes in the angles of kizuna's face, the roundness of his eyes. there's something alluring about him that wolfwood can't really put his finger on. he may be a (shitty) priest, but he's not blind. ] I get the feeling one night's not enough.
[ if he means for kizuna himself or whoever is fortunate enough to spend the night with him, wolfwood doesn't specify. ]
Edited (forgive my grammar mistakes istg this is the last one lmfbdvs) 2024-04-16 08:52 (UTC)
[ He's never made it a habit, but one would never know that, looking at him. Kizuna shakes his head by way of an answer, long fingers easing against Wolfwood's to accept the cigarette. It could be idealism, it could simply be greed — there's a compassion in the lay of his expression, even if it's a little unreadable in the moment. ]
You're right. Once isn't enough of anything to satisfy me.
[ Even if his secret is that once is often enough for him to feel the entire breadth of someone's emotions from even the simplest encounter. He's just always left wanting for more.
Bringing the cigarette up to his lips, he takes a long inhale, the sound of it hushed like its flash in the calm of the wedding suite. He feels its heat in the back of his throat, the prickle of its saturation. Leaning over, Kizuna cranes his neck with a sort of idle curiosity and slowness; his lips brush against the other man's in something that's not quite a kiss, not yet. Smoke pools in the cup of his tongue and he holds it in the backs of his teeth, waiting to be let in.
Misfortune is a bad addiction for him to have, but the ability to change its course is an even sweeter high. ]
[ the bunnies squirm around in their blanket prison, lifting their heads to seek more attention from esikko. wolfwood keeps his grip on the blanket firm but loose enough to allow them room to breathe as he makes his way to the pen. ]
My nature? [ there's a bark of a laugh at that but he shakes his head, rolling the cigarette to one corner of his mouth. ] You got an interestin' idea of comfort.
[ the general consensus is that he's an asshole, a monster; the kind people don't want to be involved with. for good reason, really. but there was a time when things were different. kinder, simpler. ]
I raised some birds before. [ he lowers the bundle into the pen, letting the bunnies roam free. ] But they're all the same. Give 'em a bit of food and they get nice and easy.
( Once he's satisfied with the pets on the bunnies, he withdraws his hand and instead sets his eyes back on that unlit cigarette. )
I do believe that counts as experience. Food as the key... that's something I've learned with my bodyguard, all the same.
( With a light little laugh, he glances down at his own hand. Lifting a finger to his lips, he nips at the tip until there's a spot of blood— and with that, he focuses and speaks something softly before it turns into a small flame.
[ yeah, the guy looks the type. but before wolfwood can comment on it, he watches esikko bite his own finger, the blood blooming into flame. he's seen enough in his life and he knows the resort takes all types, but magic is still something he struggles to wrap his mind around.
wolfwood steps closer and leans in enough for the end of the cigarette to catch, lashes dipping low. ]
Thanks. [ smoke curls between them as he takes a drag, tipping his head back to release the rest of it above them. ] Handy trick.
[ pricy, though, if he has to pay with his blood each time. ]
@bountyfull
it gives him enough time to go down to his bike, throwing on his jacket and gloves as he waits for vash to respond. he mentally kicks himself for not simply taking vash home like he originally intended but here they are now. ]
what the fuck
if you ended up putting the wrong address in im gonna kick your ass
Oh good I don't have to do math anymore
[ he is joking. He thinks he's funny at least.
...he definitely put in the wrong address. ]
i gotchu
send me the address you put in
i'll meet you there
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It's definitely the old address he used to live at with his brother. Oops.]
we're here!
I did not die in the uber.
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1/2
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ah, the html faux pas... apology
shhhh i didn't see anything
oh i am saved, thank u
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don't look at the timestamp
i see nothing
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@plantcifist
i didn't think you'd take me seriously
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[ hmph! ]
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@plantussy
[ he can feel the pouting.... stop. ]
or maybe it's always been that bad you just didn't notice
within reason sure
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within reason. so no 2am whiskey?
sorry for the wait!!
im still up aren't i
you better not complain
we don't got a lot to choose from the bar downstairs
never worry!
I'm not going to complain as long as it's a drink
or three
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for @ecad; la creatura
which is, of course, when he discovers that the creature that had been following him around is actually a human.
but he doesn't know that just yet, too stunned while staring at the (very pretty) blond washing up in the stream he'd camped by the night before. the supplies he'd gone to town to fetch is still thankfully in his hands, but try as he might, he can't look away, even if he should really turn around and give the man his privacy. he'll get to that in a bit, but for now— ]
What the fuck?
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if you ask him, things are more fun this way, and it isn't exactly like he's hurting anyone. right? ight.
he'd taken to following wolfwood around because he both looked and smelled interesting, and sometimes that's really all you need for someone with an attention span like this to latch on; he hasn't chased him off, and sometimes even welcomes him into the circle of his campsite to share the fire when he builds it, tosses him scraps of dried meat or bread when there's enough to share and doesn't mind too much if he wakes up with a tightly-curled-into-itself ball of yellow fluff and feathers close enough to reach out and touch. if he so chose.
he never has, but that's neither here nor there. the point is that he'd thought he would have more time to finish washing himself up before his return, but maybe he'd taken a little long to enjoy simply splashing around in the water as he often does and lost track of … well, everything until that gruff, pleasant voice is barking something out at him, and he turns, unashamed of his nakedness, grinning widely and pushing damp hair off of his forehead. )
Oh, morning. I thought I'd have more time until you came back— ( hey, vash, you might want to start with explaining who the hell you are, but if nick is paying attention, he might just notice a pile of shed feathers at his feet. maybe that will be telling enough. )
You've, ah, never seen me like this, huh … ( YOU KNOW HE HASN'T?? ) Name's Vash.
@plantcifist
fair
[ well. it's not like he really wants to make vash uncomfortable... ]
if you're not comfortable with it i'll stop
Re: @plantcifist
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didn't expect the internet to know so many details about the specifics of me riding your face.
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@relater
[ sometimes you have to make your own opportunities. wolfwood's been dealt shitty hand after shitty hand for most of his life — getting whisked away to a luxury hotel that runs on hedonism alone is honestly par for the course at this point. of course he wouldn't catch a break. did you find a reason to put down your cross? conrad had asked him, and he still isn't sure what's worse — not finding a reason to, or finding one. and now, he gets to start all over again.
but anyway. ]
Where I'm from, one night's plenty.
[ but there's a flicker of something warm somewhere in the blackened cavity of his chest that he'd thought was incapable of feeling, something... pleased, almost. a little bittersweet. he lets himself fall back onto the mattress, tucking one arm behind his head as the other dangles off the side, looking like he could fall right asleep if he wanted to. the lazy smile still on his face says otherwise as he flicks ash from his cigarette off the side of the bed. they're close enough to touch, and while normally he'd be more intent about keeping his space, he finds he doesn't mind it so much now. ]
Hey, I got an expensive habit to fund. And my self-control's worth shit.
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Nothing's forever, hm?
[ It sounds rhetorical, but for Kizuna, it's always been a genuine wonder, so personal that he doesn't really expect an answer. With his free arm, Kizuna gestures for him to bring that hand with the cigarette up from where it dangles off the side of the bed, dripping flecks of ash onto nice carpet. There is a sort of char to it, this presence filling up between them that Kizuna can feel because he's always been able to feel it: the scrape of the embers, the glow beneath. He likes it, that kind of thing. ]
I wonder how many around here are treating it like their last night, addictions and all.
cw: (mild) suicidal ideation
Nah. [ smoke softens his tone as he opens his eyes and turns his head to look at kizuna, brown on gold, veiled behind his sunglasses. ] But you keep wishin' they are anyway.
[ at his core, this has never changed: a haunted man who paid the price of a bargain made for the safety of the only place he'd been able to call home. no price is too steep, even if he continues to pay it now and likely will for as long as he'll live. if he's lucky, maybe it won't be much longer. but again, luck was never on his side since the day he was born on that godforsaken desert of a planet.
he lifts the cigarette from where it dangles off the side of the bed, taking one last drag before passing it over to kizuna. he doesn't know if the guy smokes, but a little sharing didn't hurt anyone. ]
What about you? [ he takes in the angles of kizuna's face, the roundness of his eyes. there's something alluring about him that wolfwood can't really put his finger on. he may be a (shitty) priest, but he's not blind. ] I get the feeling one night's not enough.
[ if he means for kizuna himself or whoever is fortunate enough to spend the night with him, wolfwood doesn't specify. ]
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You're right. Once isn't enough of anything to satisfy me.
[ Even if his secret is that once is often enough for him to feel the entire breadth of someone's emotions from even the simplest encounter. He's just always left wanting for more.
Bringing the cigarette up to his lips, he takes a long inhale, the sound of it hushed like its flash in the calm of the wedding suite. He feels its heat in the back of his throat, the prickle of its saturation. Leaning over, Kizuna cranes his neck with a sort of idle curiosity and slowness; his lips brush against the other man's in something that's not quite a kiss, not yet. Smoke pools in the cup of his tongue and he holds it in the backs of his teeth, waiting to be let in.
Misfortune is a bad addiction for him to have, but the ability to change its course is an even sweeter high. ]
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@loosestrifes
[ the bunnies squirm around in their blanket prison, lifting their heads to seek more attention from esikko. wolfwood keeps his grip on the blanket firm but loose enough to allow them room to breathe as he makes his way to the pen. ]
My nature? [ there's a bark of a laugh at that but he shakes his head, rolling the cigarette to one corner of his mouth. ] You got an interestin' idea of comfort.
[ the general consensus is that he's an asshole, a monster; the kind people don't want to be involved with. for good reason, really. but there was a time when things were different. kinder, simpler. ]
I raised some birds before. [ he lowers the bundle into the pen, letting the bunnies roam free. ] But they're all the same. Give 'em a bit of food and they get nice and easy.
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I do believe that counts as experience. Food as the key... that's something I've learned with my bodyguard, all the same.
( With a light little laugh, he glances down at his own hand. Lifting a finger to his lips, he nips at the tip until there's a spot of blood— and with that, he focuses and speaks something softly before it turns into a small flame.
He holds it up in offering. )
A light?
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[ yeah, the guy looks the type. but before wolfwood can comment on it, he watches esikko bite his own finger, the blood blooming into flame. he's seen enough in his life and he knows the resort takes all types, but magic is still something he struggles to wrap his mind around.
wolfwood steps closer and leans in enough for the end of the cigarette to catch, lashes dipping low. ]
Thanks. [ smoke curls between them as he takes a drag, tipping his head back to release the rest of it above them. ] Handy trick.
[ pricy, though, if he has to pay with his blood each time. ]
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