. under starless skies . closed

[shikomizue]

Who: Takasugi Shinsuke (shikomizue) & Others | CLOSED
What: Catch-All for July/August/September
When: July 16th - September
Where: Nadril, Olympia, Wyver
Warning(s): Alcohol Consumption, Sexual Content, TBA

[closed starters in the comments]

Comments

[semblant]

[He's awkwardly quiet as he dresses -- awkwardly, pleasantly, whatever. The point is that he's dressing without much else to gripe about at the moment....and only because his mind is muddled. The silence doesn't last, however. It wouldn't have even if Takasugi had remained similarly silent.]

As if there's anywhere to recess on this god awful planet.

[There are plenty of nice spots, but Solomon's a prissy bitch. Only after the last button of his shirt's been tucked into its corresponding slit and the bottom of his shirt's been tucked into his pants will he glance up, huffy but ever-hazy.]

I would like an explanation before we proceed. Your impulses never make sense to me, but this is bizarre.

[shikomizue]

[Given Solomon's endless well of complaints whenever Takasugi tries to take him somewhere """nice""", that assessment is credible. Anywhere they could go would be met with some form of rebuke, so why bother? He'll hear enough of it at home.

How long have they been married, exactly? 25 years???]

There isn't anything to explain.

I'm going to share in your curse. You offered the proposition in the first place, or do you not remember? [Was Solomon's mind too clouded by his boner to retain anything other than some spankbank material?

Of course, Takasugi's being intentionally obtuse in his explanation. He won't offer any details of his current state, nor acknowledge that he'd been opposed to the idea in the first place, only to change his mind after getting the shit beat out of him.]

[semblant]

[All significant decisions are made because of something. Takasugi seemed on the fence for so long, he shouldn't be the one to initiate, "force" hands here. There's a huff at that accusation -- it's an accurate comeback.]

You don't seem well, and the fact that you've been neglecting my proposition until now seems suspicious.

[As though this sort of arrangement could be wholly un-superficial.]

I was sleeping, you know.

[shikomizue]

[He doesn't have time for this bullshit. Maybe, once they're on their way to Wyver, he'll find the mood for banter. Now, however, the fact that Solomon was sleeping holds no weight. He would have roused the man from the dead for this.

Not that Solomon's wrong. Hell yeah this is suspicious!]

Have you changed your mind? [Direct, nothing of the coy drag his words usually carry. Takasugi's lips too, retain their tension, but only in how they curl over his teeth. A way of stretching out aching skin, itching scabs that have only just started to solidify.

It stains his bandages a gross pussy yellow, not visible but certainly pungent in the darkness of Solomon's pristine room.

No wedding photos, then.]

[semblant]

I haven't.

[A stern, quick response. One Takasugi should already know the answer to -- his opinions rarely waver -- he still allows the man room and board, for example, even after he fucked his 12 y/o daughter. He's trite in that way.]

You've pushed yourself too far, haven't you? That's all you needed to say.

[He's just being nosy, really. There isn't any reason to fret where he's still mobile and cognizant. No amount of questioning here and now will reveal the full scope of things, Takasugi's a pain in the ass like that.]

Lead the way, why don't you.

[Less enthused than he would've been if this were more formal...more natural at the same time.]

[shikomizue]

[To pursue a union of any sort out of desperation leaves a filthy taste in Takasugi's mouth. Or maybe that's the puss. While he recognizes how affronted Solomon is by their sudden elopement...

Even on a normal day, he wouldn't care.

But now, he considers his own concessions to be far greater than those of the creature he's to 'wed'. His face fucking hurts, and the rest of his body aches, leaving his muscles taut in the same way they stretch when he allows Solomon to sup his blood.

You've pushed yourself too far, haven't you? The accusation stays Takasugi's urgency - he watches blonde hair and gentle features sway in the moonlight, and sees a ghost.

Whether the comment softened or sharpened him, Takasugi doesn't know, but he relents to that final demand without arguing the observation. Reaching out with an arm, Takasugi returns to the window he'd come in through.] You can make your observations while we travel.

[There will be plenty of time (let's timeskip) for Solomon to surmise the rot blossoming over his skin. His head lulls to one side, half of his neck weaker than the other. When the bandage over his eye slips, he doesn't feel it, doesn't fix it.

Instead he balances his pipe and a gourd of sake, working his tattered lips free of their dressing only enough to place mouthpiece or brim against them.

Unless prompted, he'll travel in silence. It's a long journey - he cuts through the Gilded Cage to reach Wyver, but there's no shortcut up the mountainside. They'll make it at the cusp of dawn at Takasugi's pace. Close enough? Yes, but the ceremony will surely be rushed.]

[semblant]

[He's quiet overall; their journey could be halved still were he to shift -- even partially to his more monstrous form. He isn't in the mood for it; one, because it would ruin his outfit and two: Takasugi deserves to have to go on a hike for waking him so brusquely and sapping all the romance from such an important proposition.

Even if his current state is concerning, more and more as the moonlight reveals this and that at alternating angles. He very nearly feels bad, expressing such concerns is forbidden, however.

Not because he hasn't a slew of questions or lacks the words, but hyperfocusing on it all even more than he has won't reap the best results. Takasugi's a little bitch, for example. The whole thing feels far longer than it actually is -- hope springs eternal once they cross the threshold of the Gilded Cage, but the last leg of their journey evokes feelings akin to what the crew of the Andrea Gail felt before that last wave murdered all of them.

He opens his mouth to offer the proposal of a lift, but Takasugi's trudging onward on piping up suddenly feels strange. For someone with endless stamina and in perfect health, he has a lot of disparagement for this whole thing, end goal notwithstanding. At least dawn shines graciously over the treetops, illuminates their would-be altar in the vaguest, slightest of ways.

Of course, fucking with an audience would be easier to do at night, but he's pretending that isn't a component of anything but Takasugi's rude ass mind.]