Fugue State

a state or period of loss of awareness of one's identity

Pages: (2) 1 2  ( Go to first unread post )

Closed

New Thread

 You Keep All The Memories In Your Heart, @Evan | March 2016
Apr 13 2017, 05:04 PM
131
posts
205 Shifter ER Doctor & VA hospital volunteer
wolf
The pull on my flesh was just too strong. Stifled the choice and the air in my lungs. Better not to breathe than to breathe a lie.
Furore Pack
Pansexual
Adoring // Shipped
Evan

awards

halcyon heart
Sarah
she/hers/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
It was flat and dull but it warmed the old wolf's features as he watched the other attempt at a jest. His own expression was quieter, a pale laid 'ah ha, you do know how' that settled him oddly tickled over it. Evan wasn't smug enough to claim he was rubbing off, Malakai seemed a man long set in his ways but it was yet nice to know he was capable of jesting if the mood struck him. Apparently morbidity was his cup of tea. Luckily it wasn't a concept that paled the great red lupine, tucked the note away as he wandered the man who seemed perfectly happy to fuss over tea, even if he found Evan's use of it barbaric. Even this title had smiled the doctor though he'd not move to fish out flask or bottle, something long since tucked away in the neat and tidy confines of a room rarely entered or used. That Malakai didn't drink had become more than obvious since moving in and while he didn't suspect he'd be offended with scotch sitting around, neither would he flirt with the attempt at offense.

The delicate smell of tea would flavor the air, shifting his tongue between his cheeks in a manner testing and exploratory as if he could drink it from the air alone.

"Worried," it mumbled from him, barely audible as Malakai neared once more. If he'd not known better, lost in the plucking of flavors from the air, he'd have assumed it was for another round of eye color studying. It wasn't. Instead he moved to the contraption, shifting it around a bit to fiddle with it and speak quietly of his humanity before triggering the thing to shoot its projectile into the wall. A brow would rise. The whole of his reaction to all of it, fairly unimpressive on a whole.

Of the wolf not the trap on the table.

"I'm hardly worried, that would imply I fear death." He did not. Watched the man as he shifted to pull the arrow from the wall. A phantom pain in his shoulder would shift a hand slightly to settle fingers against the old healed over wound hidden below, the massage was light and quiet. "If it's your shifter skewer that deals me my end, I'd likely deserve it. And then, so be it, my life has been long and eventful. Though I'd rather not perish on a kitchen floor. So maybe... just drag me somewhere more auspicious?" Such a casual view of death, a thing he'd offer with a quiet lopsided smile and a roll of his softly aching shoulder. Ghosted soreness he'd move to ignore the next moment as the arrow was shown. For however little he cared after death he'd not have touched it even if asked to.

It was safe in Malakai's hand.

Evan would hum softly, thoughtful. "Likely the triggering mechanism itself," an arm bends to rest fingers against his lower lip as he ponders over some reason or perhaps some fix for a thing that could see him splayed out across their kitchen floor. "Calibration issue perhaps. I'd not know unless I dug through its guts but it could be as simple as that," likely not. He'd grow studious over the thing though he'd not move to fiddle with it so much as ponder from afar.

Finally he'd push himself off the door frame to round the table and deposit himself in the chair he'd been in before, closer and yet still he'd not touch it, not out of fear but rather something else. The expression on his face complicated in its thought. Deep and resounding as he attempted to solve the issue without touching, like any well rounded doctor, best to exhaust all other options before slicing anything open to actually dig through it.

"Texture. Do you also detest eggplant then?" The steak of vegetables, such an earthy hearty flavor and minus the lack of blood the wolf in him often longed for he'd have gladly given up steak for the succulent flavor of eggplant. "Aye, that's fine," mumbled as he leaned himself against the table, elbow propped and chin set in the curl of a palm.

"Perhaps it's a weight issue? Whatever it is that's registering it as loaded at all can likely be shifted to accept less than,"

His mind so easily distracted by something that needed fixing would latch onto this one, tapping fingers against his mouth in a quieted fanned rhythm. When his voice returned it was soft and wayward in its thought.

"We had a boy come in the other day with suspected and diagnosed leukemia. They'd attempted to call it an odd brand for its ability to eat at his bone's density and cause the over production of white blood cells, but his red count was still slightly too high. Turns out it wasn't at all, but osteomyelitis is rare here and they'd likely not have caught it. Took me less than five hours, just needed an outside perspective that hadn't been dampened by staring at results for weeks, I suppose."

His voice would wane before he glanced sideways to peer at Malakai, casual and easy.

"Enchiladas maybe? For that casserole dish, and topped with non-lethal guacamole."

Hummed lightly.

"Thoughts on bread making?"

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 14 2017, 06:32 AM
121
posts
39 spellbinder electrician
spellbinder
I'm the ghost in your house, calling your name, my memory lingers, you'll never be the same.
none
bisexual
smitten/shipped
Mal/Kai

awards

beaten off path
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
He’d have to have been a fool not to see, that twitch in Evan's shoulder, the treachery of his body. There weren’t many ways to interpret it, and Malakai’s mind was unforgiving; it had to have been an injury. While Mr Evander Grier could rejoice knowing that for all his previous remarks Malakai considered him intelligent, in truth he was the same old victim to the memory as anyone else. He was, so to speak, a thrall to how it wished to be represented. Be it the reluctance to approach a subject built to kill him, even if the circumstances swore him safe and removed from injury, or be it that little itch of his inching hand that caressed where once an arrow may have rested as well-- he was a thrall, that Malakai could tell. Such a likeness to mortals almost left Malakai bitter. Settled in the soft flesh over Evan's shoulder, be it an arrow or a bullet but there would have been something triggered by the silvery arrowhead in the wall of their apartment.

Kai watched it, with dark silence. He wore a hard, and even cold expression as he regarded his flat-mate. His brows arched. And he said nothing. Permitted the topic to segue into another, in which they deliberated a contraption that should not have been but it was; there, stood in the center of the table like a cornucopia of death, it warned against carelessness, almost prompting Malakai to consider the circumstance that it fired at that man; be it by choice or accident, it could bury an arrow in the man, and make him touch the other shoulder the next time that he saw a threat. Malakai contemplated that, the teas at his back, his body leaning over the countertop and his stillness almost uncharacteristic and wrong.

He glanced up at Evan, murmuring coolly, “And I will consider that.” But Evan specifically touching it wasn’t a good idea. While Malakai had not dropped the individual parts of it in silver power, in (another) truth (of the day), he wasn’t about to take his chances; their future yet waited weeks to be determined. He wasn’t about to off the man yet. He flicked his gaze up in a sudden glance as Evan moved forward, and his jaw twitched in a shout of stop he didn’t say. His world, as was known to him, a familiar, and typical choice of his brain like it were a meal it elected to feel satiated, narrowed.

From one moment to another, the overwhelming broadness of the world shrank down to the light falling footsteps of Evan, to the presence of him ghosting forward as though unafraid of where Malakai dumped him if he, here and now, fell. As long as it wasn't in the kitchen, as promised. Malakai started forward to stop him, but ultimately stopped himself, and waited. He just watched Evan, his frown present, his gaze close to a glare and his focus a presence that needed its edges softened, cutting no less than daggers and their edges. He watched, almost struggling to reply then. Eggplant.

“Aubergine,” he corrected, without conviction. Spun on the spot to grab a kitchen towel, upon which he deposited the teabags, not long exhausted off their flavor but currently well past their use. He binned them, and listened. Stood next to the fridge, where they kept the trash can (and which needed taking out, he thought all of the sudden), he listened to Evan, a fleeting expression of wonder crossing his features, and making his eyes appear so green and soft. Softening his features to adapt a look more poignant and calmer, he looked over at Evan, tilting his upper body back only enough to see the man well. He still stood on the spot with the conviction of someone without anywhere to go. His head cocked.

“Hm.”

Soft, and ponderous, or rather soft in his temporary silence, he contemplated the man and the contraption, where he looked harder to tell and the general direction perhaps gluing his gaze exactly between them, like he couldn’t bear to look at one or the other.

“Humanity has tens of thousands of diseases, doctor,” he chided, in a soft tone. Approached, holding a mug in each hand. He set both down on the table, the bend of his body deliberate and slow. “Which as an estimate grates on me. I am not one for vague figures. Math is precise.” He slanted Evan a look, slowly leaning back, his tone succinct, low. Calm. “We have 10^34 ‘diseases’ possible in modern homo sapiens, discounting syndromes and disorders. As we are both aware, they are not the same,” he said, his tone delicate. “In light of that, it seems forgivable you took only five hours.”

He sat down.

His body met the chair, and fully seated, his arm out on the table between them, Malakai delicately remarked, “I have no sugar for you sadly, unless you wish to be treated like a horse. I have a friend who is a centaur. Maybe you would wish to meet him then. You can horse around all you want.” His tone turned wry. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be fussed about the company as long as he got any.”

Malakai brought the mug to his chest, holding it in his hands.

“I do however have cream for you,” was added, almost thoughtfully, his tone still that lazy timber defied by the lingering quality in his gaze. Glancing up at Evan, he said, “But yes, point understood. If you wish to, you may contemplate it with me. The night is long and obviously we won’t be sleeping. I’d be inclined to believe in an omniscient father figure and his good plans for me if he gifted me with a roommate who’s less them and more me, but I’m not one for religion.”

He blew at the tea, dispersing smoke tendrils curling from its surface, and gently laid the mug down on the table, before leaning back and crossing one long leg over the other.

“And that’s right, I don’t particularly enjoy aubergine,” he said in a stronger tone, the energy of it revived and his robust disapproval over the general world back to stalk him. His gaze turned comfortably haughty, alive with thought. “And breadmaking sadly excites me. I actually feel it important to mention that I similarly cannot stand cacao much. It’s not what my body prefers.” He tutted. And glanced at the contraption between them, puckering his lips in thought. He tapped the table.

“Do you enjoy smoothies, Evander? I find them particularly delightful.”

Although he said it with enough wryness Evander may have suggested a thumb up his ass. Malakai quirked a brow at Evan, his lips quirking up into something lopsided and unimpressed. “There’s never a bad time to accept more greens in your body. I could fix you a mulberry lavender kale smoothie, very good for maintaining your energy levels throughout the day. There’s also one that could be more to your liking, if the listed ingredients of the first option turn you off. Although I would leave out the cacao that goes in, but I already I do that when I make it for me. Thoughts?”

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 14 2017, 07:14 PM
131
posts
205 Shifter ER Doctor & VA hospital volunteer
wolf
The pull on my flesh was just too strong. Stifled the choice and the air in my lungs. Better not to breathe than to breathe a lie.
Furore Pack
Pansexual
Adoring // Shipped
Evan

awards

halcyon heart
Sarah
she/hers/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
"Yes, aubergine. Potato potato," his voice would murmur the latter, an after thought in the wake of his thoughtful reprieve over this contraption he shouldn't have been as interested in as he was. Shouldn't have been for all the danger it posed. Evan wouldn't worry over himself, pained as he was by memories that plagued his frame better than they did his mind, he was rarely worried over himself in any regard. A man dictated by the fates. The correction over a name little more than a minor distraction to his wavering attention span, one that would so readily affix itself to something that needed an end. Something that distracted him well from even the idleness of his thoughts.

The mugs on the table more than the words that preceded them would distract him, drew his attention away to peer at the pair before sliding up Malakai's arm as he chided himself over numbers. He'd correct his estimate with precise numbers and to that Evan couldn't say he cared in the least, the exact number, estimated or not, was yet staggering. A quiet hum would see his gaze to the mug nearest, sliding it a bit nearer still before spinning it to fit its ear best against a hand he'd not call dominant but rather better suited for the task currently at hand. His elbow leaned against the table's surface lightly his fingers silently tap over the warmed ceramic instead of his lower lip.

Time wasn't the point of his mention and he'd find what had been, the subject of an outside set of eyes on a plagued issue, was well lost by the time Malakai sat. Would be picked up again some moments later but for now it was forgiven as a subject altogether and waved away with the soft splay of his fingers in rhythmic succession against his mug. His quieted nature settling easily over his shoulders as the other spoke of some friend he had that was a centaur. "He sounds like a favored friend indeed," that jesting that Malakai disliked so much fell from his tongue easily. Evan could only wonder if he even liked the man he spoke of and if he didn't how did he speak of those friends he did like?

Did he actually like anyone at all might have been the better question.

A quiet frown would settle on his features, thoughtful.

"Thank you, but it's fine," he wasn't an avid tea drinker to begin with, preferred his ingested liquids to hold bitterness or a strong poignant bite that would later numb. His point would be picked up once more and he'd nod, a slight movement lost to the wayward slight of his thoughts.

"No?" A quiet hum that would tip his mouth into a halfhearted smile, the other half not lost in anything but that wandering of his mind. "I've never been much for fairy tales either," Evander didn't much care who'd written them and or how they came about, organized religion was a ridiculous notion in his mind. "Such is the way, I suppose, for men of science," leaned himself against the table and considered Malakai for a long moment as he set his mug down and continued them on the path of food. The first wouldn't surprise him and as for the second, he couldn't be sure whether he was or not, likely not if his own like for it were considered. "As it also does me also," it was such an invigoratingly languid thing, all that proofing and kneading and sitting around waiting and the lovely smell of it all while it baked. The thought of it would upturn his mouth, a thing he and his daughter had shared for years. Forgoing the usual Sunday tradition of basking in the light of false prophets to make breads and sip coffee.

Tipping his gaze back, he'd note the forest of Malakai's eyes before the soft smile waned a bit, warm still but lesser in the face of calm comfort. "I've never really considered them, honestly." the mug before him plucked from the table as he blew gently across its surface, the smell of it wafting back before he pressed the ceramic to his lower lip. Still hot, it'd prove manageable neough, it'd do little to burn in earnest. "I'd consider myself rather adventurous when it comes to food, though lavender isn't something I've had a lot of. A hard balance of flavor that can go soapy very quick.

"Much in the same with rose."


His smile would return. "I dare say, Isobel, does make the most wonderful little rose filled, strawberry macrons. There was a lot of soapy testing to get them right however," woe was the hardships after taste testing for a baker. The were such sweet little things though, savory and light where so many of her others were too heavy and sugared for his own taste. Her sweet tooth was certainly her mothers.

"Smoothies though, I could easily see the benefit of. I can only imagine how much better off I'd be if I could simply drink my meals between patients rather than rushing around attempting solids." thoughtful, his tone almost playful he'd sip his tea once more before setting it down on the table. It'd certainly make his life easier and his eating less frantic, when he did get around to it, which was often an abysmally infrequent thing for the wolf. "Sweet potatoes?" voice quiet his gaze would wander Malakai's face before a brow raised in quiet question.

"And what of warding? Have you ever considered it... or rather would you be opposed to it? I've found it useful in the past, likely far more than projectile based traps meant to flatten your roommate."

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 15 2017, 02:22 AM
121
posts
39 spellbinder electrician
spellbinder
I'm the ghost in your house, calling your name, my memory lingers, you'll never be the same.
none
bisexual
smitten/shipped
Mal/Kai

awards

beaten off path
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
“He sounds like an ass,” corrected Malakai, without any malicious intent. Without any real conviction either, making conversation as he was for the pure pleasure for it he didn’t actually feel, and yet his mind was spinning. The calm he experienced, he knew, was more related to the influx of information. To the constant state of intelligence swapped between them, natterings perhaps intended to be useless but far be it for him to disregard facts. Even if he doubted he’d make large use of the nonsense spoken today, the analytical, and obsessive parts of him, his entire being in fact, understood it wiser to know than the opposite.

And like that, he knew that that Evan liked his tea with alcohol, and that he drank it without it, as well, prompting Malakai’s mind to return to the matcha and how it may appease the man. He knew, too, that Evan regarded religion with no great appreciation, no more of a fan than a random heathen. With his pagan mind and disbelieving smile, he dubbed it fairy tales, and Malakai quirked his lips into a sardonic smile. He actually didn’t know what to feel. His mind, keen on facts, and ignorant of vagueness, in fact agreed wholeheartedly. They were fairy tales, and they were fairy tales for adults. Not a concern unless you considered their voting rights. How could you trust a man with your future if he bows to an invisible figure? He ventures out to the church when he finds the time and passes by all those begging, all the poor, all those whose faces spell poverty; he walks by and pays them enough heed as he the dirt under his heels.

Men of similar caliber had no right to dictate the futures of others, and yet time and over again world elected them for their leaders, for those who promised brightness in the coming days. Nonsense. But if fairy-tale-loving men were elected, they had been given voice by men who needed said fairy-tales to feel better about themselves. Malakai regarded Evan with something cool, and something that lay in wait. His brow quirked. “We might just bond, after all,” he said, slowly, like he’d rather not hear himself talk at all if these were his words. The confession of a probable bond twisted his guts and made him want to fire the contraption; let the innocent arrowhead no larger than his thumbnail kill the bond that was not wanted. He didn’t move from the spot. Studied Evan, instead, studying his features, that hint of a smile, that familiar, reminiscent fondness of a mind buried in the past.

Wrongly, Malakai wondered who Evan had made bread with-- wrongly, because he actually didn’t want to know. They’d not be making bread together and he declared it, decreed and passed as law that he’d pin to the walls by dawn: we are not to bond. But-- his features tensed. Lavender. He had said it in light, and it was a mistake. Now, Evan repeated it, and Malakai’s mind swam; to the woman who’d loved it, a woman not from his history but a woman who’d once been an important feature in another’s, before killed by a disease. Malakai forever defended that what had killed Lenore Marciano had been the bite of a rabid dog. It hadn't been the husband who'd injected her with pentobarbital. But she’d loved lavender, and he’d claimed the association as his own, and recalled the lavender fields he’d used to help out on. He felt strange and bitter.

“Who is Isobel?” he asked, his tone almost inflectionless. He gentled a strange, subtly wry look at Evan. Almost chided, “The flavors of rose and lavender are ones for humble flavor profiles. Which is where many people err, to my experience; they’re subtle contours of the sweet meals they color, and should not be used in big quantities. They do, after all, produce a flavor you correctly called soapy.” He enunciated the last word stronger, his tame, suspiciously mellow tone staining with emotion. A brow was quirked. He drank from his tea.

“I’ve actually had my eye on something, to be truthful with you,” he said, then, his tone oddly too resonant, too much like something that mattered.

“I suppose you have heard it too, that dangerous, ill practice that few address, and few want to admit it’s here…

“... Suffice to say, if I did want wards, I’d want them made by me.”


He rose up from his chair and retrieved a couple of spoons from the drawer. He gave one to Evan, either into his hand directly or down by his mug, and slipped the other into his own mug so gently it barely disturbed the water surface. He sat back down, and gave his drink a stir. His green, bright eyes watched the rippling surface of it as though it spelled the answer to dozens mysteries. His lips curled back.

“Hmmm, would you say our conversation is coming to an end?” He glanced up at the large kitchen clock spelling time. His eyes narrowed. “The night is young.”

Perhaps he should visit that stripper. He supposed he knew which one Evan had meant. But then, she had dark, long hair and he didn’t know how he could get over that; it reminded him of a small gap between teeth, of a pair of green hues, so much like his. Livelier, he’d push, and kinder and sweeter, since She wasn’t like him at all or he wasn’t permitted to be like Her. He wouldn’t let himself live if they were alike at all. His gazed darkened, clear and yet focused on concerns of the past that stained his thoughts unpleasant. Malakai set the mug down on the table, and tapped his fingers over it.

“So I trust you’ll take a look at it-- and yes, I do enjoy sweet potatoes, may I request you get your mind out of the gutter? Foodie,” he drawled, with distaste. But then he smirked, derisively, amused. “I suppose we shall have a lot of interesting meetings together, you and I, kneading bread and handling the very unpoisonous avocado. I will say I don’t mind meat strongly, and still encourage you to keep it separate from my products. I will not touch your meat but if it touches my tofu, we will be at war, Lavender.”

He quirked his brows at that. Seemed cheery, in fact, as he promised in a lilt, “Just you and I wrapped in the chaos of wrath. Almost sounds delightful, if I didn’t know I could never defeat you in a battle. Perhaps if I didn’t play fair, of course. Well, life doesn’t, why should we?”

He stood up. Finished his drink, hot as it was. And began to fiddle with his shirt, like he ached to upend it up but stuck as it was on his frame, it teased his need for movement. Obviously fretting, Malakai tapped his finger over his lips, and then, just then, he bent at his waist.

He planted a kiss on Evan’s lips and tasted his tea.

His form sank down over his chair, moved under him to support his frame and its four legs gave a skidding, obnoxious sound over the floor that currently spelled like guilt and secret. He kissed Evan, a kiss like he cared.

When he pulled away, his hand had somehow found itself on the back of Evan’s neck, and he said--

“... Periwinkle blue… I’ll make you wear contacts.”

He cocked his head to the side, his thoughtful expression cut short by the puckering of his lips. They made him look younger. A member of the tortured youth everyone ignored since what did the young know about struggle? His eyes narrowed.

Unreadable and gentle, he drew back, muttering almost to himself, “Perhaps it is a shame we won’t have sex. Alas, closeness is nothing I can risk. I hope you understand that.”

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 16 2017, 12:59 AM
131
posts
205 Shifter ER Doctor & VA hospital volunteer
wolf
The pull on my flesh was just too strong. Stifled the choice and the air in my lungs. Better not to breathe than to breathe a lie.
Furore Pack
Pansexual
Adoring // Shipped
Evan

awards

halcyon heart
Sarah
she/hers/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
Amused. Evan sat quietly in his amusement over some seemingly terrible notion of bonding, like in fact if anything were to kill Malakai swiftly it was the thought of frivolously bonding with another human being (so to speak). It drew the wolf curiously towards more questions than answers. Why was this so hated and to what end? How far were the lengths at which he'd go to avoid growing close with someone? If the trap before his were any indication, well and truly any length was not too lengthy for him to climb it and see himself away. Perhaps too dramatic an assumption but he'd assume it anyway.

"Daughter." His tone is wayward and thoughtful, often forgetting that not everyone who sat with him at a kitchen table had known him for a length of time enough to consider the names he spoke familiar. "A baker now, lives up in Portland." Softer, they were clarifications that hadn't been asked for, held no merit and yet were given anyway. The girl he'd baked with every Sunday, who wielded rose in quantities that weren't soapy and melded them with hints of strawberry. A woman that likely would have either spun Malakai's head around or fallen in as some fast friendship. So much like his wife. So much like Greer before even her. A woman of adventure who'd finally put down roots and taken to adventuring through small bite sized confectioneries and savory loaves of bread.

Evan's brows would rise slightly at the confession from the man seated beside him, elbows return to the table to lean him lightly. His gaze would darken a smidgen as he pondered this train of thought. Knew well what he spoke of.

"Aye, I know it. Would'ya?"

Malakai didn't seem the sort who clung feebly to his humanity like it were some badge of courage. It was neither impressive nor its opposite in Evan's mind. One species was just as hard to survive as any other, to rank them was ridiculous but the fact remained that he didn't strike Evan as someone who needed his humanity to subsist himself. "Was a familiar for a while, from what the coven spoke of it, it wasn't an easy process." pondered out loud, thoughtful his attention would drift to some other point in the living room, through the doorway and of no real importance. Would return the moment next with a soft nod. "Understandable." If you wanted something done right it was always best to simply do it yourself.

A spoon grasped and placed into his tea he'd continue his curious pondering of the man beside him as he questioned over an end to this conversation. "Could be," a low thoughtful hum would purse from his throat, his face undefined as agreement or not, played there as some soft uncertainty that he'd not name with clean defining words as he stirred his tea idly.

When he continued it was with nothing holding back the fondness of his tone, a quiet gentled rumble in his accented voice, never the fear of attachment or bonding and so he'd surge himself forward. Fearless. "I do look forward to these meetings and their created bread. A lost practice over the years for myself, and always much more enjoyable with like minded company,"

He'd sip his tea at this, as if punctuating his point.

The soft chuckle that came next was low, its amusement would grin him long after it'd settled and dimmed on his tongue, mug placed back upon the table. "I'll be sure to keep my meat well away from your tofu." A note that would sift softly from his tongue and with too much mirth as he set aside this odd little name he'd been handed, let it slide off his back like water off a duck as it bothered him none. Preferred it over his full name though it did remind him an awfully lot of attachment. So certainly it'd not stick for longer than this one instance. "Why indeed, Malakai. If it makes thing easier to digest, I am old and certainly not as spry as I was several wars ago, so surely you'd stand a decent chance this go around, aye?" The soft smirk on his face was too jovial at the mention of his downfall at the hands of another. Eye's shifting to watch the other as he stood and finished his tea and fidgeted with his clothing like a boy unsure what to do with all of his energy.

Evan's attention turned in earnest just as Malakai bent and pressed their lips together in a kiss he'd not been expecting, one which moved a chair to grate against the floor and one which Evan returned without hesitation. It was an odd sort of lingering thing that shifted Evan a bit though his calm remained, as did the hand that shifted to rest at Malakai's thigh, a brace for his lean and nothing else. An argument he might have failed if you asked him over it directly. His mouth would upturn as Malakai mumbled over colors again.

Forest green, and he'd not make him do anything.

He seemed so oddly gentled in the moments after and it drove Evan to curiosity as he watched him lean back, fingers still curled around a thigh that did not belong to him in the least. A pat is offered to the leg beneath his palm as he righted himself back to his mug of tea. "The night's still young," an amused sort of mention that trickled from his tongue, amused and almost saddened by some loss or another that wasn't defined but clearly was. "Do you run, Malakai? We could," his tone would drift in thought, the spoon beneath his fingers stilled as he pondered. He'd return momentarily to snake a glance sideways. "The mundane sort, unless you fancy rushing through the forest with something old and russet," and then he'd lose himself again as he stared at Malakai, his drawled words thick with Scotland. "A forest, green."

Soft and quiet his murmur is punctuated with a soft shake of his head.

"Or perhaps we can visit that stripper?" His mouth would quirk a bit as he lifted his mug to pause it in a need to finish his statement. "At work, I mean. I have no real want to not engage in a sex here and then share some woman who batted her lashes and slipped me a card like she were a bicycle to be ridden at the ready." there would be no high-fiving while they double teamed some woman too loose for her own good. This chuckled thought is wrapped around the edge of his mug and silenced in the warm ply of his tea.

"I could do with some scotch,"

Hummed as his mug is left to hover before him.

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 16 2017, 03:28 AM
121
posts
39 spellbinder electrician
spellbinder
I'm the ghost in your house, calling your name, my memory lingers, you'll never be the same.
none
bisexual
smitten/shipped
Mal/Kai

awards

beaten off path
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
Daughter. Evan had a daughter. A fact Malakai saved and filed for ‘later’, though there never would be a later; he had zero plans of sharing April. He let the topic go.

Quickly, Evan connected what he’d said, though didn’t speak the name afterwards himself. It was welcome of him, in fact, not to utter the names of the demons best left to lie dormant. Even though it was an idea, to switch species in that manner, it wasn’t one he’d considered in full. Likely, if he did do it, knowing himself, it’d be an abrupt moment, an abrupt decision made from one moment into another, his body seen out the door of wherever it was that it possessed him, until in the arms of the almost death in the name of science and curiosity. Power had never really been it. But he contemplated Evan, filled with sharp curiosity. “You were a familiar?” Distaste marked his tone, as though that dreaded bond thing he thought so little of should receive no kind assessment no matter who it came from. But instead of judging Evan’s choices, instead of projecting, seated upright in his his seat and appearing oddly guarded, Malakai warned, “You should be careful. Bonds with others, perhaps more to your liking than mine, aren’t always a good idea. Mostly if it’s your soul that’s getting bound.” There was something darker to his tone. Moot warning a shifter. He dropped it, like he had no right to talk.

Their bread-making future awaited and he felt it darken his expression.

There was the need in him to say no. To take it all back and find all the bread ingredients in his home.

And bin them, and flush them down the toilet and watch their ruination. He didn’t. Ignored the topic altogether instead as though it were poison in his veins. Slow-acting, only thinking spurred it on, shooting it outwards through the webbing of veins throbbing underneath his skin. He ignored that thought too, and quirked a wry, half amused smile at Evan.

“Perhaps I will give it a go.”

Fighting Evan.

They moved on past that, too. When Evan’s hand landed on Malakai’s thigh, something in Malakai hissed, offended. Offended, because he didn’t mind the hand. Was that the ill-fated, and very hated hunger for touches that even he sometimes felt? The thought of actually wanting the caress of a human hand twisted his insides, and filled his mind with deserved distaste. But he didn’t explode in a fit. Instead, resigned, and too smart to self-flagellate when he knew how to resolve this problem, he just glanced down in a flicker to watch the hand go, and felt damned for it. Felt hanged for it, like if there ever were a way to find a point of no return he had just done it; he watched the hand leave and knew what he wanted to. Looked up instead, something wry but relaxed in his features. He cocked his brows.

“I run,” he echoed, almost like he’d never remember himself say that. A veil of a tone that spread out, thoughtful and soft. He frowned, minimally. Directed his glance at the man, his lips giving a twitch almost as though tempted to build a grin-- but he didn’t let it. Looked away suddenly, his expression schooled so quickly it was apparent he’d hidden a feeling. He turned his lips upside down (or as well as he could) and feigned dislike. Feigned, as he sat in his seat, that his mind wasn’t with the hand once on his thigh now away. That he wasn’t imagining eyes as blue as flowers bowing in the wind.

That he wasn’t seeing dark, almost black hair that always felt like silk.

Feigned.

And then he looked back at Evan, and didn’t stop it in this case.

Sardonically, and transiently, he smiled.

“What nonsense,” he said, with conviction, with energy. He tapped his fingers over the table. “I can hardly imagine you and I anywhere near a titty bar, Evan. We’re not men meant to lust, and our viewing material, if flesh and areolas, will bore us quickly. But.”

A hand on his thigh. He’d not fetch Evan’s to return it there, but he kept thinking to it, getting confused by flashing imagines of dark, billowing hair and ringing laugh. He looked up.

Into Evan’s periwinkle eyes.

“Very well, we may enjoy this one outing.”

He lifted a hand then, a finger out, warning crisply, “Just one.” He rose then, not about to fester in a place where lips met and blue eyes looked the bluest that blue could be. Spinning away, he contemplated the door out the kitchen, perhaps about to change his mind again but the sex he’d wanted before, such a distant memory he thought, had been dubbed a most dangerous act. There was no way he could just casually sleep with this man now.

His hands were warm and eyes too blue. Fuck it.

Malakai gazed at him over his shoulder, and wordlessly walked into his own room. His venture there was short, a few necessary things grabbed, the wallet in one hand, the cigarette pack in the other--

“No commentary, please,” he warned succinctly, gaze down on his phone as he went through any missed messages-- he had two. They quirked his brows, his gaze unimpressed as the pack and wallet were stuffed down his jacket pocket left hanging on its peg, and he tutted, hastily bringing up his messages and typing an answer back. Some people. The jacket was grabbed next and slipped on.

“Although I should warn you I am not a particularly warm companion,” he talked, distracted, his tone dry. Low. At least it wasn’t annoyed or hostile. Wrapping up the quick business, and pausing only briefly as he received the answer a moment later, he added, “But perhaps you will find my reactions in social situations charming.” His tone dripped with irony. He slanted a look at Evan, his tone thick with wry disbelief as he added, “Some mentally deficient souls do. All bets on you that you don’t.”

He stepped to the side.

"Shall we?"

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 17 2017, 09:43 PM
131
posts
205 Shifter ER Doctor & VA hospital volunteer
wolf
The pull on my flesh was just too strong. Stifled the choice and the air in my lungs. Better not to breathe than to breathe a lie.
Furore Pack
Pansexual
Adoring // Shipped
Evan

awards

halcyon heart
Sarah
she/hers/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
There was a playful warning on his tongue as Malakai warned him against the dangers of bonds. Careful, Malakai, you almost like you care. Of course he was only cautioning a roommate, or so could have been easily argued, it'd still flick Evan's gentled gaze to the other as he bit the warning in half and swallowed it. Rendered it a moot point of argument even as he offered a nod to acknowledge the fact he had been a familiar, however rhetorical the question had been.

The whole thing lost in a fit of lips against lips and hand against thigh. It sat as no real concern to the wolf, but he was a tactile beast by nature and touch was never something he shunned himself from nor was it something he'd feign hadn't happened either. Malakai ran, a note that seemed important for only a brief few seconds before his expression turned complicated and carefully shifted to hide things in obvious glances and harried features. Evan would watch him, not the staring sort of gaze that pinned his attention but rather the quiet thing that glanced down the planes of his face and then watched from a slight swivel, peripheral in some sense it was quieted but there all the same to study his need to feign. Warmed as the other struggled, like it amused him that emotion did not amuse Malakai. What it was he fought against Evan didn't know but it was clearly something that made his frown oddly lacking in sincerity and into that he'd assume it something too soft.

When he returned from wherever he'd attempted to hide himself he'd do so with a smile.

It tempered Evan's own, not so much in chasing it from existence but rather tamed and humbled the wolf's features in the face of it. Like dog laid out in the sun to bask, and he would, found it lovely and warm even if it was meant to attach itself to sarcasm the next moment. A brow would rise in curiosity as he attempted to pull himself from the basking lest he chase it off. "Aren't we though?" A wispy sort of question not meant to be answered. They were just as red-blooded as the next person. Evan would never not admit to lusting, perhaps not over tits or flesh or areolas, but he wasn't immune to the deep seeded wants that were titled as lust.

Lusted for the peace that only came with rambunctious and never-ceasing thoughts, expulsion of energy or sleep. The latter two seemingly impossible feats at the moment.

Malakai would agree, with a single stipulation that would chuckle him, a light and halfhearted thing.

"Aye, only this once."

Took his time to finish his tea and let the other wander to gather his things, it wasn't necessary for any other reason than to avoid the accidental brush together they might incur had he stood suddenly. Tea finished he'd wash their glasses and spoons, meticulous even in such a casual moment that didn't rightly require such a hurried thing. Could have left them for later. Didn't. Washed and dried and placed back into their spots he'd wander to his own room to gather what little he needed, things tucked into pockets, keys and wallet and phone.

The doctor in him chided the other silently, needed no words to shoot him a disapproving look as cigarettes were tucked into his coat pocket. Evan's own outer layer hoisted from a peg, he didn't need it in the least but he'd swath himself in it anyway. "No?" The quirk of his mouth was easy as he slipped himself into his jacket and moved to join the other at a door that would soon see them out. He'd not consider Malakai a warm man in any situation, though there were touches of it available to him, it wasn't something he wore all that readily. Likely it was a reaction to this needing to separate himself from others.

"I'm not much of a betting man myself," too playfully stated as they walked through the door.

The club, some minutes later, was nothing impressive and least of all was nothing he'd have ever wandered into on his own or without the need for distraction. Malakai had pegged them rightly in the department of lust, at least as far as this place was concerned. Evan appeared unperturbed as they wandered in. Nudity was not something he'd shy from, couldn't, not as a shifter, though this note also came with one of desensitization unless there was adequate interest. There wasn't, not in anything that came wrapped in teasing skin and perched on too high clear plastic heels. Low lit and with colored lenses that obscured the reality of faces and made everything too soft and faults easily undetected, he'd note the overuse of the color red. Like they sought to inject the needed lust directly and yet he'd find himself leaned against the bar with little beyond a glance to the stage or those pooled around it.

A scotch ordered he'd finally filter his gaze to the sights, none of which poked any part of him that saw blood shifted or heart palpitated. "Wanna bet her name's Candy?" His mouth would twitch into something amused as he spent all of a dozen second on the limber blonde on stage. The soft sound of glass to bar would shift his attention, sliding it over the man beside him as some sauntering thing wandered nearer, all hip sway and smoldered smile. Pulled to the new comers like bee to flowers. Evan, unflappable would tilt his head gently to sway her attention to his companion, dooming her perhaps but it was Malakai who needed the evaporation of energy. "Chastity?" A soft question, calmly amused though almost flatly spoken as he hoisted his glass from the bar.

"Close, I'm Hope."

"Of course ya are," the correction, all cooed and offered on a tone sultry would chuckle him softly, a sound drowned out by the press of the glass to his lower lip. She'd likely need all of her name to see her through an interaction with Malakai as Evan highly doubted the perky ample tits and overdrawn red lips she offered would do much to sway his attention. His smile is easy as his drink is lifted in some greeting. "Evan."

Her smile was flawless but too broad and lacking the needed emphasis on anything that tasted like interest. "A pleasure, Evan. What brings you two in?" Her attention, perhaps wrongly, landed on Malakai. Evan would toss the man a curiously amused gaze.

God speed, Hope. god speed.

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 18 2017, 08:00 AM
121
posts
39 spellbinder electrician
spellbinder
I'm the ghost in your house, calling your name, my memory lingers, you'll never be the same.
none
bisexual
smitten/shipped
Mal/Kai

awards

beaten off path
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
They went to a bar. A single sweeping look down the offered female figures would prove him affected as he faltered, his spring tempo slowed down by a contemplative fraction. Women, truly a sight to lo and behold, with gifts he couldn’t rightly ignore. Though not a man driven by his lust, he was a man. A man who also had his preference, and found his doom in a woman with blonde hair. She looked too much like the one from his past. He looked away.

Sat himself at the bar and pretended she wasn’t there. That her hair didn’t remind him of her, the woman tall, and irresponsible. Brain-scattered and useless with chores, and yet a woman with fire and spunk, a woman he’d actually loved, and he’d deny it, leave the feelings to develop like a photograph in a red room and then burn it and toss the ashes to be blown off. He didn’t even want to say her name. Didn’t want to think it, but as this blonde-haired stripper continued to pull his gaze, he knew what was going on with his mind; it kept wondering if it was The Woman. He frowned and tried to watch her with hate.

Hope.

He looked at her. A nice brunette with the color of hair that he’d also seen on his Women. A flowing dark thing she’d mistakenly pulled up to make herself appear lithe like a twig. Malakai glanced at her, mute for the length of her conversation with Evan. He actually ended up looking past her. And behind her, at the blonde haired woman who looked a lot like her, a likeness so rude it pulled his brows, his frown present. It sat a look upon his features that he’d dub as one of displeasure. He tightened his hold around his drink. He didn’t remember ordering.

Wouldn’t have, but he was holding whiskey, and he wasn’t sure he had ordered it (he had; between one blink and another while looking at the blonde), just that cool and hard, the glass sat innocent against his palm. Malakai looked at it, and continued to see the blond hair of the Woman from his past.

If it wasn’t blond, it was brunette. If not brunette, it was seeing the gap between teeth that Milaine, when young, had used to cry made her ugly.

He’d always called her pretty.

And if he wasn’t imagining Milaine in place of every woman with a laugh too rich and cheeks too pinked, as Milaine’s had tended to when she was laughing, then he was imagining all the other ghosts from his past. He’d not have ordered the alcohol were his mind present.

Malakai kicked the whiskey in and as he swallowed, it curled down his throat, its bitterness mocking. He made a face. And looked at Hope.

“I’m afraid I’m not one for cheap thrills, after all,” he told her.

She gave him a looked almost hardened; this would not be the first time someone had offended her position.

Malakai’s gaze shifted. Blushing with shock, he twisted his features to spell disapproval, and bowed his head. His tone was crisp.

“My apologies, Hope, the fault isn’t with you. I’ve sadly found myself very mentally incapacitated. Evan, if you will.”

And then, he borrowed him.

Abducted Evan from the spot and dragged him along behind him, in an urgent enough motion he was surely rushing them to save a life or two. But then, when they reached the place, and Malakai’s gaze swept across the club, he saw the blonde-dancing woman, and saw her green gaze.

Melissa’s had been brown.

Malakai looked away.

He dragged Evan into the restrooms, only there releasing his hand and roughly knocking all the stall doors open to check nobody was in.

Nobody.

And then he turned to Evan, and said--

“Well, yes, about that mindless fuck, I suppose I could not convince you of that, huh?” Shame, his tone said without him saying it himself. His hurried, torpedo cadence talked where he didn’t. That wilder look in his eyes suggested trauma.

“Don’t ask,” he warned, his tone slower. Still a rushed and breathless thing yet the gentleness he’d fitted in softened it like heat butter. Like love horror. Like calm noise. He approached, his hands out in a show of meaning no harm, and then when he stood in front of Evan, he was confused and poignant.

“This is,” he said, laying his hands down on Evan’s shoulders, “preemptive. I could not talk to that woman without lashing out. It’s not her fault.” He glanced up at that, his lips furling back. “I use anchors to snap myself back. With the current circumstances considered, sadly, the only anchor that can help me now is one that requires a physical contact.” His tone was wry. Malakai quipped, “Science,” he talked, haughty in that word, “is never wired to serve the people. Perhaps why I regard this anomaly with hatred... And yet it is what it is.”

He neared their lips like he had before.

“Kiss me just for a few minutes.”

He sealed their lips in a kiss as tempestuous and passionate as he was himself.

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 19 2017, 02:51 AM
131
posts
205 Shifter ER Doctor & VA hospital volunteer
wolf
The pull on my flesh was just too strong. Stifled the choice and the air in my lungs. Better not to breathe than to breathe a lie.
Furore Pack
Pansexual
Adoring // Shipped
Evan

awards

halcyon heart
Sarah
she/hers/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
Evan stood watching those moments in between when Malakai had seen fit to order a drink he wouldn't drink. He didn't drink. He'd drink it. A brow would rise though he'd not move to slap it from his hands, nor dissuade him in the least. Perhaps he should have but far be it for him to mother a man clearly capable of surviving this long without the shifting of a drink from his hand. His own scotch is sipped as the woman aptly (perhaps) named Hope stood by waiting for an answer, her face looked it, hoped for all the green in their wallets perhaps and one to push the other to sit in a chair while she rubbed her unadorned tits all over them. It was an amusing thought though it likely shouldn't have been. A distant part to he wolf would chide himself over it, after all these were all someone's daughters, not his, but someone's.

"Just killing time, like all the rest."

He'd answer where Malakai was unusually quiet beside him, the thick low drawl of his accented voice was heavy on the air, something that most women fancied as different, though he couldn't ever begin to imagine why. Scottish was not a beautiful language, too coarse and brutish if you'd asked Evan his opinion, nothing as eloquent and lilted as Malakai's own. Hope would swivel a little, a coy shift of herself that didn't match her lack of clothing. Evan's attention would wander, waned and flickered to the side to glance at Malakai when he finally spoke, his tone oddly chilled and too sharp at its edges. While Evan wouldn't describe him as warm, his tone was not always cold. It was missing completely now.

It was the sort of tone that came with remembrance, a tone Evan knew all too well in himself.

It smoothed out his features, a gentle thing that left him looking calm and placid if not tinged with worry.

Brows creasing a bit Evan's gaze would flicker back to Hope as Malakai apologized and moved to shift them. His scotch was frowned at as he took a mouthful and settled a napkin over the top of in, just in case. Chin inclining at the dancer he'd allow the dragging to the bathroom, the rush of it concerning.

The chill of his hand against Evan's, warm if you considered his species, would release the wolf as they breached the white tiled room and obnoxious lighting.

Deemed empty a moment later.

"Mindless fuck?... No." The drawl of his tone echoed the same amount of shame as Malakai's own, elongated the words were curious, almost thoughtful as if he considered it even as he offered a no. It wasn't a lie so much as a half truth in the needed context of the conversation that wasn't one at all, sex he could offer but he could not promise it as mindless. He wasn't the sort. Even as he watched the almost feral tinge in Malakai's gaze he couldn't have offered it to him simply to soothe. It'd just later render him a liar. Still, there were layers there in those forested eyes and even as he was warned Evan would deem himself wanting enough to unravel them, maybe not tonight or here in this restroom but he would. A task that he'd allow to eat at him until he could complete it.

He approached and looked lost.

Evan's calm wouldn't falter as Malakai settled himself upon his shoulders, palms warm and clasping. Blue pooled upon his face as he stood himself close and spoke of anchors, things used to steady the mind in the realm of the present. Evan's mind raced, picking at words and techniques like this were a grand man-shaped puzzle, he had all the pieces he need only find the order in which to cobble them together into the correct features. A name for this thing he spoke of that simply was.

He'd not get that far before their lips pressed together.

It was nothing that should have been walked in on and Evan, while unable to produce bother over it, could only guess how it would have looked; two men standing close, locked at the lips. Had it been something languid and exploratory perhaps better off, but it was nothing of the sort. Was a kiss that stole breath and moved them in a manner raucous and indulgent. Watched for only a moment, forested eyes too close, too vibrant, too beautiful to stand himself there and stare into. Shuttered his own, gray in this terrible overhead lighting. Stormy. He'd not revel so much as he would indulge, enjoyed but didn't bask himself lest Malakai taste it there and flee himself away. Countered and offered in turn even as an arm wraps around Malakai's waist. He'd not tug and flush them but rather held, and they'd look slightly better off then.

Bettered it still as the other slid a palm between shoulders to press against spine.

This warm tete-a-tete would end in a need for air.

Lungs heaving gently his gaze would flicker back, oddly stifled by hesitation, paused in the almost-shuttered watching of a pair of lips rosy and flushed. They were golden when they finally rose, a dimmed thing that was no less warm than the usual blue but neither were they indicative of his humanity. If his eyes were wrong the soft quirk of his mouth was not, amused and contented, the hold against the other loose and easily broken he'd not move to break it himself. "I'm no lustful teenage boy," the quirk of his mouth would deepen to dig a dimple into his cheek as the gold filtered from his eyes. Neither was Malakai if the shift of his lips were anything to judge by. "Mindless is not something I can give, but neither is love." A note that would come as no comfort to the majority of society. Would to the man still stood before him. He couldn't give what he'd buried so many decades ago, twice.

Slipped himself forward to press light lingering kiss against Malakai's lips.

"I am capable of casual sex, however it won't be mindless."

Slipping himself away finally he'd stand there a moment, arms swinging at his sides.

"You don't drink," his tone was thoughtful as a brow rises in question. Arms crossed over his chest, he'd set his chin in a hand to ponder momentarily. "Which one was it?" Which of them triggered this event. A personal question he'd wave off with the splay of his fingers as they released his chin and returned to their clasp around his opposite elbow. "So we can avoid this in the future."

His mouth would hitch lightly.

"The anxiety,"

Not the flagrant restroom kissing.

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 20 2017, 12:18 AM
121
posts
39 spellbinder electrician
spellbinder
I'm the ghost in your house, calling your name, my memory lingers, you'll never be the same.
none
bisexual
smitten/shipped
Mal/Kai

awards

beaten off path
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
It made the visions of his women slip away. The kiss. Melted them into the backs of his mind like they’d never existed. They’d be back again. Give him long hair dark or blonde and he’d walking down the same road again. There was no escape from such an all-encompassing and common occurrence. In a part, Malakai didn’t even defy it. If his psychologists were here, they’d say he wasn’t he wasn’t actually trying. Perhaps, that bitter stab of longing he felt at the thought of his Women was what his inner masochist wanted. Malakai let the power of the kiss turn every noise silent. It didn’t last.

Coming to an end all too soon after, though with the man’s arm around his midsection, they pulled apart to look each other, Malakai planning some casual offense he wouldn’t mean a third of much as he’d claim it did-- and that he couldn’t let last a half of how long it’d been planned. Instead, he saw the gold in Evan’s eyes, and all outside it faded away. Malakai blinked. Registered the words with some curious peer, and the matching wryness that he couldn’t be separated with, almost not sure where the repeat explanation was coming from if they had already covered this topic. Yes, Evan could not do mindless fucking-- rather, he responded to things too passionately. It would bite him in the ass, Malakai concluded, glancing at him in what he hoped was a stare, but it was more of a glance. Normal and plain. Weren’t it for the ghost of a frown, even relaxed. He cocked his brows, and thinned his lips.

Sitting in some crooked line on his face, they underlined his displeasure, small as it was as he pulled away as well, and said, prompt, “That’s none of your business.” There was an offended bite in his words, and Malakai noted it, displeased all the more though now with himself; curse his emotions for existing.

Tutting, Malakai lifted his gaze, and clasped his hands behind his back, standing upright on the spot with his chest out like a peacock on a hunt. Weren’t for that wry, unhappy look in his eyes, he’d have had it perfectly down.

“I’m afraid the concerns of my past are exactly that, Evander, mine. Perhaps if you hope for an outpour of emotions, we could pay one of the strippers here to list hers, if she is so inclined.”

That crisp, near emotionless attitude of that delivery soothed the rattled parts of him. Finding himself calmed, Malakai gentled his expression somewhat, just casually unhappy.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, in what he presumed was a friendlier approach-- or not friendlier, but easily on the word order, a response more likely to filter in the air as though he’d decided to wear the face of an average man.

He was not an average man.

His words, intended for that, still failed. All too wounded and leaving no place for arguments. Malakai moved off from the spot, walking past Evan to sashay to the door which he shouldered open, and then stared down the corridor outside it until on the main room of the establishment. There, the dancing went on. Malakai noted the women on the podium, their nude, willowy frames almost too bendy to imagine well, quite like an actual dream not intended to happen. He watched them, lust-less. The blonde was away.

He looked back at Evan.

“It’s a concern of the past,” he drawled, his gaze hard and private. “And there it shall remain. My apologies for the kiss. I had disregarded your consent. It will not happen again. Shall we?”

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 20 2017, 02:47 AM
131
posts
205 Shifter ER Doctor & VA hospital volunteer
wolf
The pull on my flesh was just too strong. Stifled the choice and the air in my lungs. Better not to breathe than to breathe a lie.
Furore Pack
Pansexual
Adoring // Shipped
Evan

awards

halcyon heart
Sarah
she/hers/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
He didn't expect much if he were being completely honest, expected less than the biting tone he received first. Where most would defend and harden Evan simply cooled slightly at his edges, expression going slack and thoughtful as he regarded the other in his little fit of offense. As if Evan had asked him to sit down and recant all of his dirty laundry, piece by piece. Hadn't. Had asked a simple yes or no question where the yes and no had been replaced with brunette or blonde. Perhaps it'd been more gray than that for Malakai? The wolf would ponder it as if this were the rightful answer, his scientific brain didn't allow him to substitute this answer so readily but accepted it in lieu and an answer he'd not be getting here and now. Set it aside for some other moment. He didn't need Malakai to continue, his initial snapping was enough to cement this as fact.

Malakai was not a sharer.

Evan would make this note somewhere in the catalog of his mind. Not that it hadn't been apparent before now but this was the hard and fast ruling of it that penned it into existence as fact.

Hands tucked into his pockets his calm would stand him across from the other and watch the splay of his face, his own open and serene as he stood there rather casually. Dumbly if you'd walked in on them then, staring at one another you might have thought one was receiving a stern talking to, not untrue though Evan's face hardly fluxed to show grimace of pain or wounded emotions. Rather it was the other way round. Though Malakai would temper it soon enough, softened his tone even as his facade stood rigid and taunt. A juxtaposition that picked at Evan's curiosity, though he'd not inquire further lest he be subject to another outburst of coolly offered words that amounted to mind your own business, Evan.

His frown would come.

In the face of some dismissive answer that he'd assume was meant to humanize and blend him into the pattern of society. It doesn't matter. A brow would rise in stark contrast to the dissuasive frown on his face, a question while the rest of him stood there in a need for Malakai to not assume himself befitted for this type of statement. It was too easily sighed and in that far too casual for a man who's diction was anything less than flawless. Hurried and sometimes hard to follow but always crisp and clean.

"Very well,"

It drawled from his throat, completely unconvinced that any of it didn't actually matter but he'd not push, not in a bathroom of a strip club anyway. Maybe in four walls they called home, where Malakai could storm out or evict the other in a fit of angst that felt more poignant than it would if he angrily walked out of a bar full of tits and booze. Blue eyes track Malakai as he wandered to the door to poke his head out, as if checking to make sure the radiation had cleared before they wandered back out into the war zone. When he turned back Evan would shrug his shoulders, a casual rise and fall as his feet moved to shift him forward after. "No need, for further explanation or apology." He'd wander by the other to spit them out into the corridor before his feet walked them back to the bar where his scotch sat waiting.

If he had any worries over drugs in a left behind drink he'd show none of it as he sat and swiveled himself to face the bar. Club at his back it seemed safer to invite this view than it did to sit them facing the stage. The deep smokey liquid in his glass sipped he'd turn his attention back to Malakai, a conversational glance that wandered his features momentarily. "How long has it been since you've lived with a shifter?" This seemed like a much safer topic all around. "The moon will be full next week. Nothing you need even think of, but I won't be around for a day or two. I trust you're no stranger to it though," seeing as he'd lived with at least one, however violent he'd been compared to Evan's calm, they did still share similarities in this respect. "We'll also be getting an influx of med students at the hospital in the next month or so, which means my time milling about talking about death and food will sadly wane," perhaps not sadly at all but wane it must. "At least until summer's over and they return to school or filter off to better practices, anyway."

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 20 2017, 01:21 PM
121
posts
39 spellbinder electrician
spellbinder
I'm the ghost in your house, calling your name, my memory lingers, you'll never be the same.
none
bisexual
smitten/shipped
Mal/Kai

awards

beaten off path
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
Very well. The words left bitter guilt in the pit of his stomach like he’d done something bad. It would have been easy to self hate. Quick to fall down that pit, Malakai took a steadying breathing, reminding himself that people didn’t get along in all circumstances and-- the guilt festered. Evan walked past him, and Malakai tsked, passing judgment. There was only one person he blamed here. Someone entered the restroom at that point, and Malakai wasted no further time sticking around. He walked out, and found himself back at the bar. He didn’t want to drink.

Didn’t even want to be here, though that came as no surprise for a man who was hardly social. But he looked at Evan and knew, at that exact moment, that neither was Evan. Neither of them would consider himself fond of excess company, and yet here they were, faking interest in the act of socializing where the act was considered a precursor to purchase of a naked woman. Look, don’t touch. Such a rule followed around every customer, a more dedicated stalker than the one who’d pant at your front door all night long. Malakai wouldn’t fear its presence. About as consequential to him as precipitation levels of Uganda, he sat in his seat, facing Evan, and realized what the man was doing: changing the topic. Malakai’s mouth opened.

You don’t need to do this, you can call me out when I’m being an ass--

“... How long did you take to react to my ad? A week, I recall correctly.” He didn’t order. Glanced back at the bartender and then averted his gaze before he could make eye contact. He really wouldn’t be drinking, though a customer that wasn’t paying was not a customer. Malakai couldn’t imagine his presence being entertained for much longer. But still he regarded Evan with a curious look, pondering him over. Why did the man who didn’t flock to man, and a man who didn’t disregard passion from a kiss, why did he go out and why did he consider gratuitous sex? Even if he perhaps was one of the sorry fellows who couldn’t remove emotions from sex, he’d gone through all those kisses like he enjoyed the weight of attachment. Like it suffocated him, but he wanted to tease it, and he dreaded it as did anyone who easily turned passionate after a kiss with a recent roommate, but it was some figure in the distance that he wanted faced his way. He wanted to look in the eye of which he couldn’t have, and Malakai found him a most curious man.

A man of passion who denied it and had it both, who’d warn of his bad habit to adore when he kissed back the roommate with an idea thereof. And Malakai had been wise to note it and extricate himself before things turned dangerous, but why did Evan continue to entertain it, if not to torture himself? Call him a bleeding heart, call him an any-other-doomed case, and Malakai tapped his fingers over the bar-top, aware he was staring, aware he was silent. A topic had been proposed, but he sat focused on Evan, a sharp look in his gaze.

He opened his mouth to talk--

“I see,” he said, a slow, inflectionless response. He blinked. “Perhaps then we needn’t worry much,” he added, delicately. “Seeing as you’ll be busy, and busy is a state I dearly prefer over its opposite. Very well, noted.”

But what now? Even as he looked away-- even as he glanced at the dancers, his gaze was sweeping and uninterested. There was a conversation to be had, but Malakai--

“What are we doing, Evan?” he asked, his tone wry, ponderous. Soft. He cocked his brows. “You and I both understand we’re not meant for this. We don’t drink to drink and we don’t look at topless women like they’re the second best thing after our cocks.” At that, he slanted a wry, unimpressed looked at Evan, drawling, “And we don’t fuck to say we’ve wet our dicks.” Saying the word had almost caused him pain. And away the look was again, surveying the place with zero amount of interest. Malakai clucked his tongue. “This scene isn’t ours. We’re expired men, Evan, our once rambunctious lust lost in our experiences, although one may guess it never was there to begin with, never in any strong measure.”

He looked back at Evan.

“Finish your drink and we’ll go home. I have an old TV we can pull apart. You can bring your own wrench.”

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 20 2017, 11:50 PM
131
posts
205 Shifter ER Doctor & VA hospital volunteer
wolf
The pull on my flesh was just too strong. Stifled the choice and the air in my lungs. Better not to breathe than to breathe a lie.
Furore Pack
Pansexual
Adoring // Shipped
Evan

awards

halcyon heart
Sarah
she/hers/that bitch | PST | 3/3/3 | Sarahroo#5726
"'bou'that, aye," his tone was drawled and almost incoherent as it left his tongue, too heavy in thought to check the layering of his accent, to dampen it beyond some mumbled thing that made little sense. He'd not repeat himself, rather he let the blurred answer stand for itself as he washed the flavor of Scotland from his tongue with something smokey and amber and just as Scottish. Something that tasted like home even if he'd not seen it for dozens of decades now. Could still recall it as that liquid cascaded across his tongue, such a thing that so easily bred soft wispy misery into his contentment, harried the edges of his features into something not quite as calm and not quite as mirthful.

It reminded him of a man long lost, even before the woman that had filled his shoes.

A man who'd helped build Evan from the beginning, made him passionate and warm and sowed a fiery compassion into his being. A man who'd been as close to a mate for his soul as anyone would likely ever get to another. He pondered as his drink sat beneath his fingers, swirled gently against the bar top with an idle circular motion. Quiet and lost for a long moment he'd watch it slosh itself and wonder about the world left behind. The one around them pressed behind him in favor of this loss. He shouldn't drink, should take up some oath as Malakai had, even if he broke it in the face of women that seemingly crumbled him and caused the seeking of anchors. He shouldn't, but Evan would. Would return to his bottle time and again.

Needed the comfort of that soul crushing weight atop him or surely it'd all be forgotten.

His inability to let go was a staggering flaw that he recognized, waved over and offered a seat, even as his blue gaze slipped sideways to peer at Malakai. Well aware that his faulty wiring was still there at the edges of himself. They were about as apples and oranges as one could get in that moment, one too sharp and focused, proper and straight-backed while the other bent too easily beneath the weight of himself, soft and warm. The soft lingering of eyes were noted long before Evan turned, and yet there was nothing there to question after why or shun or shame or even shoo them.

"Needn't worry, no,"

His tone soft and languid, tired perhaps but it'd grasp hold of mirth almost too readily, made it sound overworked and odd before he tempered it. Rolled it around in his mouth as he sipped his scotch once more, a brow lifting to question the question posed to him. Turned his attention to slant a look at his companion. Tapped his fingers against the glass under his hold. The tone that clung to the word fuck would smile him fondly. "Not tonight at any rate," his expression would hitch a little as he slid his title back to the collar of his jacket. Slut. The rest was true enough, at least until Malakai lapsed into the subject of their lust and it was there that Evan would disagree, not out rightly but would, silently. His had been rambunctious once upon a time. There'd been a time when he couldn't have stood in a room with his long lost Greer and they'd not been allowed to touch, if ever there were a time he was sure they'd cast their glances across the whole of it to watch nothing but the other. Too wanton and readily worn thin by the other, glad for it always.

"We were both teenage boys once, Malakai. Surely that lack hasn't not been true of you forever,"

Even if he was corrected he'd think him liar in this regard.

A nod would waver over him as he agreed, the liquor in his glass measured in a glance before he halved it in a quiet hearty sip. "Seems we've wasted our 'once', aye? A shame, I suppose," that one time outing had been tossed as an experiment that had failed them both. Deemed as much as his scotch was finished and bills fished from his wallet to set on the bar, too many and too generous, but then he always was.

Suppose not though.

Perhaps they were never meant to be the sort who wandered together outside their shared abode, not friends but simply two men who got along well enough to live together, and beyond that? Strangers perhaps. Evan couldn't be sure. They'd drifted by one another for weeks, who wasn't to say they'd continue as just this, if anything was telling of this it was this outing they'd attempted and surely failed.

Returned them home, coats were left on pegs and men were left to wander to their respective rooms to gather and leave what they needed before they reconvened in what was likely to become the common grounds of every sort of these things. A glass fetched from a cabinet and Evan would settle himself at the kitchen table with his phone and bottle almost empty and very unlikely to see to its end tonight. A comfort that served him just as well as tea did most people. Set off the side and worried over or touched very little while he fiddled with his phone, returning the pair of text messages waiting on him.

--------------------
user posted image
Apr 21 2017, 10:58 AM
121
posts
39 spellbinder electrician
spellbinder
I'm the ghost in your house, calling your name, my memory lingers, you'll never be the same.
none
bisexual
smitten/shipped
Mal/Kai

awards

beaten off path
Eien
her/she | GMT +1 | 3/3/3 | Eien#0897
Malakai just looked at him, a look too hard and unforgiving. He said, wry and slow, “Surely, I have been proving myself consistently unpredictable. Why should my past break that pattern?”

They went home.

Malakai checked his phone upon entry, reading a message that paused him before fully coming in. He resumed his step, but it was slower. Business, of course. Even at this time of the night, people needed help. Alternatively, they needed damage, and who was he to draw the line and call one white and the other black? Jacket not left on the peg and his frame pausing by the kitchen, Malakai glanced up from his phone screen to look at his flatmate at the table, and watch him like one were the poor and the other rich. Like the class division planted one firmly in one room and the other in another. Like the distance between them never seemed as far than when they stood like this, within each other’s sight. They could touch so easily. They obviously were capable of talking. And yet Malakai had become acutely aware of their larger character difference, and how you could clearly tell where one man ended, and where they other began.

He walked to his room. Closed the door, like god forbid its insides were glimpsed even if for a second, and then reopened it a few moments later to come out with the promised TV that was rather compact looking, or what the security would keep in the room where they monitored the rest of the object they watched over. There, replacing one contraption for another, Malakai said, “Have fun”, and without another explanation left to place his shifter-harming machine somewhere in his room, certain Evan wouldn’t go looking for it. Once back, he stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning over the space where a door would be, and looking at Evan with something too lingering. He wore a frown like he was on a job to a place that didn’t know his name. His grimace of displeasure turned only accursedly soft. His stomach twisted, and Malakai looked away.

“I have a job to do,” he informed Evan curtly, his phone long in his pockets, retrieved again to check a message. His brows gave a twitch, otherwise his features telling of grim focus.

“I must leave.”

He looked up at Evan, politely speaking, “I will see you in the morning, Evan, unless you have left by then, which you might have. In which case, I will see you in the evening of the following day.”

Such a late night departure wasn’t the first of its kind. Where he went didn’t matter. Where he’d been going and where he’d continue to wander was some topic perhaps related to the altar in his wardrobe and the man it worshiped, six feet under. Malakai just looked at Evan. His gaze flashed cagey for a moment and then it softened, contemplative in its wryness.

He waited a second.

“Good night, at any rate,” he said, slowly, with a bow of his head. The corner of his lips twitched, and he added-- “And do sleep, at the end of the day. A proper shut eye should reboot your brain for the following day. We’ll see each other, again.”

But he wasn’t so sure about that.

He left, in a flurry of movement.

--------------------
user posted image

Topic Options
Pages: (2) 1 2 

Closed

New Thread


 


 

Black Prism ruinandrise UNTIL DAYLIGHT: POST-APOC, TLOU BASED MEFA; a pre-Shepard Mass Effect RP Ataraxy Frisson RPG
Affiliates [ View All | Link-us | Apply ]
Maelstrom All of Me Fractured The Four Dimensions OCULI VIDENTIUM 
 

Shadowplay RPG-D
Tagbox requires separate login. Sign up using the gear below.






Skinned by SARAH exclusively for Fugue State.