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TDM 010: PARTNER UP, PARTNER
| TDM 010: PARTNER UP, PARTNER |
00. Arrival This time, you come out of the water, the Nameless Island's own inherent energy drawing people in. It's like being suspended between realities and abruptly pushed from behind through a rift in dimensions. It may make you sick, or that might be the motion of the ocean, lifting you to the surface and carrying you to shore. Waterlogged and covered in sand, new arrivals will be greeted by robots who welcome them with towels and bracelet devices. The A5 card is already loaded up. Feel free to explore the Island, though there isn’t much to see. Most of the buildings are abandoned and in dire need of repair, and beyond the city lingers a thick fog that obscures much of the wilderness from view. Wander too far into this fog, and you will find yourself mysteriously looping back to where you began, your memories of what you were doing and how you got there erased. With that in mind, it may be wise to stake your claim on a rundown apartment, a tent on the beach, or a bed in the “comfortable” barracks. Your inventory will be found a day later, wrapped up haphazardly and delivered to each person's makeshift home. I. Laid Bare Basics There is a new addition to the scenery at the beach, and everyone is welcome! Especially new arrivals, who will be ushered to the recently-established Laid Bare Spa, where (provided they don't slip away from the bots' helpful grasp) their uncomfortably wet, sandy clothing will be stripped away and they will be lovingly pampered by the cold metal hands of the resident robots. Long-time Islanders and newbies alike are welcome to enjoy such amenities as hot and cold baths, sauna rooms, scrub-downs, thorough whippings with birch brooms, skin treatments, massage and energy work, and more! All rooms are thoughtfully decorated with tasteful murals of naked and disrobing bodies. Maybe you'll see someone you recognize?! (Maybe you'll see... you?) Islanders who happen to find their clothing mysteriously missing are welcome to borrow a Laid Bare branded towel to cover up with on their way home. II. Tattoo to You, Too The Augur understands that sometimes, it's difficult to find a partner to indulge you in those favorite Auspicious Acts - especially for new arrivals, but surely even long-time residents could benefit from a little assistance now and then. That is why ever-benevolent entity has gifted Her precious Islanders with tattoos which feature their most secret, urgent, and/or shameful of desires! (Even if that desire is to simply complete a Bingo.) The tattoo may be a picture or a word, and it can appear anywhere on the body. At first it is pleasantly warm to the touch, like a soft glow of light on your skin. It soon becomes apparent - through either robot advice or a notification on your communication device - that your task is to find a match for your tattoo and complete the depicted act with that person. The longer one goes without completing the act, the more the tattoo seems to heat up, until it feels like it is burning into your skin. Take too long, and the tattoo may become permanent. Otherwise, the tattoo will fade within hours of completing the Auspicious Act. [ For TDMers: feel free to select any favorite kink for this prompt! If you complete a kink that doesn't appear on your card, you may switch one square for the completed kink. For current players: by participating on (tagging into) this TDM, you may switch one kink into your card (it must be the kink in the toplevel prompt you responded to). ] III. Creepy Crawly Caterpillar Crawl Are you on the hunt for credits? Then have the robots got a task for you! The 'bots of the Nameless Island are recruiting Islanders to go bug collecting in the caves, crevices, and hollowed-out logs of the wilderness. The quarry? The (shudder - literally, the robots will shudder) doom-summoning harbinger bug. They describe these creepy creatures as fat, fuzzy, and rainbow-colored, with long, fluffy antennae that look like rabbit's ears. The robots describe these critters as so dangerous that Islanders should only hunt them in pairs. Should your team return successful, you both will be rewarded very handsomely for every caterpillar caught! The bugs are typically very docile and seem to enjoy soft pets, judging by the cooing and squeaking noises they make (especially to scritches behind their "ears"). Poke or disturb them however, and they may bite! Body parts bitten by angry caterpillars will swell up cartoonishly, and can only be treated by having someone else suck the venom out. Good thing you're traveling with a partner! The 'bots strongly recommend against keeping these little buggies as pets, but they're not your dad. N A V I G A T I O N |
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No, let them not speak of disappointments. ]
Do I? Then allow me to say you could stand to be less at ease.
[ He knows Kaeya isn't actually a layabout or careless for all his airs, but that will not stop Diluc from peppering him with wry disapproval. Especially when this external aggravation makes him more crotchety than usual.
He eyes the fresh glass of wine set before the other man, and briefly imagines taking it himself, upending the contents onto the floor—but it would be terribly rude conduct towards another bartender, robotic or no. (Does he even have enough coin for his indulgences? Or is he running a tab already? Both equally likely, given his resourcefulness, and shamelessness.)
He exhales through his nose, patience (tolerance for pain, etc.) wearing with each wretched second that passes. And he knows the captain can't hold out forever, either, judging from the uncharacteristic tension in his fingers, the way he clutches his glass like he means to fracture it in his grip. ]
...We can have this discussion elsewhere.
[ If Kaeya doesn't make quick work of his drink, Diluc swears he'll do it himself, as much as he'll hate the taste of it. ]
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...well. one doesn't cuddle with one's enemy—but they're not enemies, these days. not precisely. and besides, spending tens or so minutes tangled together is hardly the end of the world; there's no reason to turn this (unfortunate) reunion of theirs into a production, and yet, as kaeya straightens back up in his seat, it's the nearly empty glass he reaches for.]
Why? It's no Angel's Share, but I must say, I do like it here—and wine is better in a tavern. [so sayeth kaeya, who is an expert.] Unless...
[he brings his glass to his lips, downing only half of what's left. his own glowing tattoo is pulsing in a most uncomfortable way, as though it somehow knows that its matching tattoo is close, so close—but almost thoughtfully:]
Do you need my help?
[they both do, he knows. and he knows that diluc knows... that he knows... but he wonders if diluc will actually say it. can even these extenuating circumstances force diluc to give an inch...]
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(Or perhaps it doesn't even matter. He already knows too much, knows him too well.)
Everything they don't speak of only makes the absence of that very conversation more conspicuous, the looming elephant in the room they talk circles around. Because Diluc has too much pride, and not nearly enough patience, where Kaeya is concerned. ]
As much as you need mine.
[ He'll remind him this isn't a single-sided matter, that Diluc will owe him no favors after this. And he eyes the glass in Kaeya's hand once more, imagining himself snatching it from his fingers and knocking it back. The bittersweet tang of the wine as it slides down his throat—but ultimately, he decides he's had his share of distasteful things for a day. ]
...I'm leaving. It would be in both of our best interests for you to follow.
[ If he can't close the bar on him, he'll walk out instead... But despite his bullheaded attitude, the pain finally makes his expression falter, eyes narrowing sharply for all of a split-second, a twitch prominent in his brow before it smooths over. And then he's stalking his way past the door. ]
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(and it isn't as though kaeya wants to cause diluc unnecessary pain. of course he notes the minute shifts in diluc's expression, before diluc abruptly turns away; of course he knows how much it takes to so much as crack that composure.)
but kaeya still sighs as diluc stalks away, catching the robot's eye(?) in order to shrug and say, just loudly enough for diluc to catch:]
How cold!
[it's a shame, downing his last bit of wine like this, but needs must! and after instructing the bartender to give that untouched glass of wine to someone else—to whoever is, like, tucked away in some shadowy corner—kaeya slips from his seat and strides toward the door. diluc has a head start, and annoyance is probably powering his pace—but kaeya catches up with (annoying) ease.]
Always so impatient. [tsk, tsk.] I take it you know a better place for a chat.
[kaeya's poked about, sure, but while kaeya could pick out a place in a pinch, kaeya's yet to find a run-down apartment to call his own.]
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I do not.
[ He's not particularly embarrassed over it, nor is he picky. Anywhere remotely out of sight is fine by him. The fiery distraction of his branded arm makes his focus dangerously narrow, after all, and it's taking the entirety of his self-discipline to keep up this facade of stoicism. ]
There are a number of locations to choose from, however.
[ Plenty of the city is abandoned housing, they may as well throw a dart and see which direction it lands. (He is not inviting Kaeya into his own derelict apartment.)
But will he make it that far without failing? Will Kaeya? Diluc blinks over to his companion in a moment of rare and genuine concern—and almost regrets feeling anything toward him, given the contrived smile still plastered over his face.
Still, a part of him doesn't want to see Kaeya succumb. He doesn't want to be reacquainted with the vulnerable side of him, or to be reminded that once upon a time, he didn't wear the fake smile he does, now.
So he takes him (cautiously) by the wrist and tugs him toward the first alcove he spots, a crumbling section of an empty, weatherworn building. ]
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or: even kaeya needs a distraction from his troublesome tattoo, which feels rather like a searing brand pressed to his skin. oh, he's good at maintaining appearances, especially when he feels the weight of diluc's gaze; he takes care to keep his posture relaxed, to keep his smirk in place even as he feels gloved fingers suddenly close about his wrist. diluc wouldn't give an inch in the bar; far be it from kaeya to give an inch here.
still, as easy as it is to be irritating—to huff a laugh as he's tugged to the side so quickly his hip hits the wall—kayea looks past diluc, making sure they're truly alone on this stretch of street. really, it's as much for his benefit as it is diluc's—but there's no one, of course there's no one, and his eye soon slides back to the familiar face that is closer than it has been in years. strange, though he's careful not to let his mild discomfort show.]
A number of locations, [he says, low and amused,] and this is the one you choose. Interesting.
[diluc still has hold of his wrist, and thus kaeya turns his hand? pointedly testing that grip as he takes a half step forward, testing these new, temporary boundaries.]
I preferred the tavern.
cw: mild but gross/medical imagery
You'd have found grievance no matter the place, I'm sure.
[ With another quiet huff, a push of air through his nostrils, he releases Kaeya to roll up the sleeves of his coat and shirt, revealing the stamp underneath. (He's vaguely surprised to see his skin looks... fairly normal. It feels as if it's singeing, crackling, peeling, like there should be blood and pus—but no. There's an angry glow illuminating the lines of the calla lily, but nothing more.)
He lets out his breath, slow this time, trying to clear his mind. It grows increasingly difficult to articulate words; Kaeya is uncomfortably close, his presence very well as loud as the brand on his arm. Ironic that he can't escape either, that the only way to rid himself of these inconveniences is to—quite literally—embrace both. ]
...No need to dawdle. Let's swiftly get this over with.
[ He says it like this is some life-threatening venture, so terrible it may change the course of their fate.
...It's literally just a hug, but he stares Kaeya down as if he's contemplating running him through instead. And if the other man doesn't make a move, he'll close the distance between them to, very stiffly, maneuver his unmarked arm around him. ]
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but he shoves such thoughts from his mind, remaining perfectly still as diluc awkwardly, reluctantly, takes charge. this, too, is uncomfortable. not that kaeya is shy by any stretch of the imagination; a hug is such an inconsequential thing, and yet he stiffens, briefly, before he catches himself, forces himself to relax once more. diluc is tense enough for the both of them—and there is the notion that, while diluc clearly does not want this, it can be made somewhat more bearable by kaeya acting as expected. a kindness.
...yes. snaking his arms about diluc's waist, crossing them over the small of his back—a kindness, as well as a tease. he'll do what diluc won't; he'll pretend that he is wholly unaffected, because if diluc is annoyed by the familiar, maybe the rest will be somewhat easier to bear.]
Is this your idea of a hug, these days? [these days. a pointed choice of words just before he drops his chin to diluc's shoulder.] And people call you charming...
[it must be the money. anyway, while diluc continues being Diluc, kaeya subtly shifts, rolling his top arm just far enough for him to catch a glimpse of his own tattoo. the glow—not to mention the pain—should be fading? any second now... surely...]
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Diluc does his best not to reminisce on the past, but it's difficult not to conjure in his mind a cruel whisper of kinder times, before his father had passed, before he knew who Kaeya really was. He holds him like he expects an icy knife to sink into his back, and while deep inside, he believes he wouldn't, how can he ever fully trust him? How could he ever boast to know his true nature?
(...He wants to believe him. That is his deepest desire, to be close to him again. To have what he once had before, those perfect days when he could confide in Kaeya anything, when he was so certain he could never be alone in the world, never want for companionship.)
Now all they have left is this mockery, a puppetry strung together by the higher powers of this forsaken island. A part of him is deeply angered by it, and disturbed, and the more Kaeya relaxes, the more Diluc grows taut, so still he near forgets to breathe. All the while the pain doesn't subside, and the tattoo continues to seethe as if utterly unconvinced by his half-hearted display of affection. ]
...
[ He doesn't respond at first to the provocation, for fear he'll snap in a lapse of judgement. He tightens his hold by a barely perceptible margin, and when pain spikes up his arm again, he brings himself closer. Until they're twined together in what is undeniably a hug, not exactly crushing, but firm enough that there's tension in his arm that isn't his hesitation. ]
You don't need to speak.
[ Don't make this any worse than it already is. ]
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and yet diluc's current stiffness, as though touching kaeya is an affront to his very being—it stings, in a sense, shouldn't? kaeya's had years to come to terms with the current state of them, to take responsibility for it; he is well aware that what they were, they will likely never be again, but it's—well. once, such an embrace would have felt warm; now it chills him to the bone, the sole solace being the fact that, since diluc can't catch of a glimpse of his expression, he's free to let his ever-present smirk slip as he continues watching his arm. still glowing... ah...
...ah. he hums, a quiet, thoughtful noise as he forcibly shifts his mind back to the (near) present. was the pain sharper while he was nursing his glass of wine, or is he simply imagining things? wishful thinking?]
Oh, I think silence would be worse.
[his tone is as easy as ever, but—there is a hint of seriousness? an edge, of sorts, which kaeya tells himself he does not hear as he rolls his arm back into place, loosely hooking his fingers into the fabric of diluc's coat. he could stand to straighten back up, to pull his chin from diluc's shoulder; maybe that's precisely why he remains as he is.]
Your mark?
[how is it, bud. surely they can at least talk about this.]
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(Though it's too late, because once sent drifting it's difficult even for Diluc to come to a full stop, to reel himself back to the present.)
He can feel the gentle nudge of Kaeya's chin over his shoulder, tempting himself to do the same, to relieve his weight on him and with it his burdens.
He ought to be comfortable with silence, having spent the last however many years seeking and stewing in it, and still there's a solace in Kaeya's voice he doesn't dare give name to. (This is his heart's desire, after all. A reconciliation he can never fully offer him, a return to their shared past they can never enact.) Even the superficial pain can't mask the deep ache of loneliness underneath it, and he finds himself reining in a tremor.
...Kaeya asks after his tattoo, and Diluc shifts his other arm around him so he can see it. ]
Unpleasant. ...Yours?
[ The sensation is significantly more bearable now, however, and the relief makes the tension drain from his shoulders. His body slumps forward a fraction, as if sighing, the side of his head brushing against his companion's. He's still frowning darkly through it, expression inordinately sullen. ]
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...something within him pulls taut? another thing so small it's hardly worth noting, but it sends him angling away, chuckling as he glances back out over the empty street.]
Unpleasant.
[sharp pain giving way to a dull ache. yes, diluc had the right of it; this is well and truly unpleasant, for many reasons, but—well. it could be worse, couldn't it? better to deal with the known than face the unknown, even if kaeya wonders, briefly, if diluc would prefer to hug a complete stranger.]
But improving, [he adds, just barely tightening his arms about diluc's waist.] How lucky, to be in your care.
[that mildly mocking edge is back, though at whose expense?]
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'How lucky...'
Yes, in a way they are fortunate, stranded on foreign shores but not entirely alone. But in every other way, Diluc can only interpret this as some sort of penance. Kaeya should've been the obstacle he'd left behind, but instead he is the one ever looming in front of him. A reminder that's more than just a flower etched over his forearm. An omen.
The captain (lightly) mocks his so-called hospitality, and there are too many ways to respond to that, fair and unfair. (Diluc has spent the past four years burning away his anger, yet somehow there's always kindling left. A flicker of it stews inside him even now, both vicious and hurt, and he lets it pass.)
And eventually, he lets go of Kaeya too, when his arm no longer stings, when he feels the pieces of his mask have been reconstructed. He levels him with a flat stare as he steps back, neatly rolling his sleeve down. ]
I'll be on my way, then.
[ There's no need for goodbyes, when it's inevitable they'll run into each other again. ]
...Try to stay out of trouble.