Archangel, at times, fears that he has distorted upon the Consciousness Orb. He fears that what he is experiencing is nothing more than a delusion of his mind in order to remain sane in a dying and rotting world. Yet he thinks that if this were a distortion -- if he had become a Grotesque -- that he would have created a world where he could bed Dextera whenever he wants.
No, wait -- the world. He would dream of a world that is whole and clean and good. Would he be the Absolute God? Is that what his ruined self believe? In such a pretty little lie. Or maybe, his mind would regress and relive the past and -- he isn't sure. What would his Baroque truly be? What horrific shape would it be? ]
Sinistra.
[ He calls to the twin that lives with him instead. He's tired of these early morning thoughts. They come to him when he looks up at the ceiling in the dark. But he isn't in any pain. Of course, the pain of being speared on the Consciousness Orb faded from his senses after awhile, too. Maybe he is in some anguish without realizing it.
Archangel crawls into the bed that Sinistra's sleeping. He reaches his hand out to brush the hair out of the other's face and behind his ear, like they're actually lovers that do those sort of actions.
He's tired of his thoughts and wants to hurt Dextera. He's filled with unreasonable hate. He wants to hurt Dextera in ways that Dextera isn't even aware of, and that brings a little bit of peace into his heart. ]
[ Sinistra hates to sleep alone, so he barely sleeps at all. He's never slept alone before this place. His waking hours in the tower were endless, and before that...
Before that, there was always a warm body beside him. He and his brother were one, so he was never lonely. Never scared. Never haunted by the silence of night. In this place, he fears falling asleep and fears waking up. He has yet to decide if living is worth it or if returning to death is too unbearable. The scales are even in his mind right now.
It has taken all his will to stay in his own room every night. He may hate the Archangel in many ways, but their ongoing intimacy and his desperate feelings from his physical distance from Dextera lead to a struggle against the desire to crawl into the man's bed for comfort. It may be a cold comfort, but at least it is relief from his oppressive loneliness.
He is only partly asleep when the Archangel's weight rocks his mattress and a hand touches his face. He opens his eyes and looks up at him in the darkness, wondering if he too seeks comfort or to eliminate him from his space with his own two hands.
He brings his hand up and lets his fingers brush the back of the Archangel's hand. ]
[ That probably isn't the question that Sinistra is asking. He's probably asking why he is crawling in bed with him. His smile warps itself into a cruel sneer for a brief second before returning to his usual soft and warm one. ]
I'm merely thinking a lot of our world. I wonder if this is the world that the Grotesques see. I wonder if, perhaps, we shall be returned to our wretched state but Dextera will be separated from us. [ Archangel actually decides to be honest. It's for no other reason than to satisfy himself, however, rather than make any real connection with the Koriel. ] But... those thoughts are incredibly boring.
[ He calls them 'boring' because he has had them before while on the Consciousness Orb. It's just the same shit in a new world. He would like for his dark thoughts to at least attempt to give him something new to fixate on. Because, if he has to be filled with anxiety and pain, he would like the experience not to just be a revised version of old issues. ]
So, I want to do something fun instead. [ His thumb runs along Sinistra's bottom lip, emphasizing the word "fun." ]
[ He's right. It's not the question he has. That smile makes him wonder if he is about to smother him. He wouldn't be surprised. He's thought about doing the same to him, but it would be a pointless use of anger.
But then, the smile settles to the one he can never believe. He listens, quiet, staring at him with his large, dull eyes and taking his words in. Even if he doesn't like him, he finds the machinations of his strange mind interesting. If they're bound like this, struggling through amicability, he might as well try to learn how this man really works. ]
... It is possible. He could be separated. He could forget again... I would not be surprised. But I wonder if the Grotesque see anything at all. Anything but their own sins.
[ He often wondered if he ever saw the true world around him. How much was clouded by pain? By loneliness? By anger and sorrow? Everything, perhaps, had been skewed. ]
They are... because there is no answer to find.
[ He parts his mouth when the Archangel runs his thumb over his lip. He breathes out, reaching a hand up to touch his face. He's been laying here, lonely and awake. He'll accept any company he can get. ]
If you want to have me... you can. Maybe... to clear your head?
[ Archangel decides to leave the business of both of their twisting and lack of answers alone. It's something best not thought about. Besides, in the world they lived in, no one could continue living in it with some form of a Baroque. ]
You're being so kind. [ He leans his face lightly against the hand. Turning his face more, he gently kisses the inside of Sinistra's palm. ] Clearing my head is good. If I keep thinking like this, I might actually kill you.
[ His tone is even, calm, and could even be described as conversational. There is a soft smile painted on his lips as he threatens to murder him, but both of them know that's a risk they both are taking living with one another. But sometimes, it's nice to vocalize it. He kisses the inside of Sinistra's wrist before he leaves him.
It's only so that he can acquire a bottle of lubricant. ]
I really wish that you were Iris, Sinistra. I wouldn't have to waste my Chroma buying you nice things like this. [ Archangel openly complains as he returns to the bed. ] Maybe you can make a petition to the moons? [ So he says as he uncaps the bottle and pours the substance onto his hand. ]
Anyway, you seem troubled. Want to talk about it? [ His mood violently shifts about without his notice. He asks sincerely about listening to the other's problems as he prepares him. And really, for him -- what better pillow talk is there than hearing what is upsetting Sinistra? ]
[ dextera has tried to get in contact with him about an unusual question, and his impression of the archangel in this world makes him think that he would have received an answer by now. the only other person he knows who might keep up with the archangel is his brother, and so, this is who he’s turned to. ]
[ dextera is relieved to hear his brother’s voice, at least. he can’t explain what’s wrong with him, as he is—it’s just that the archangel’s death and return has set him so terribly, hopelessly on edge. ]
Ah... very well. Wait for me, just a little bit, and we will talk about him and find out what you must do, then.
[ His agenda is deterrence, but he's weak to his brother. He'll go silent until he finds himself at his brother's residence, trying to open the door instead of knocking. ]
[There's really no particular reason why Fiona is taking a stroll through the groves. Being with nature is nice, that's all. She has some free time, so why not. It's not as if anything in particular is calling her, and all her partners seem to be busy. The nearest flower garden is top priority for today's walk, but whatever plans the priestess had in mind are tossed out the window the moment she spots a familiar face.]
It seems our paths cross once more. What has brought you to this destination?
[Fiona has a smile on to match her curious gaze as she approaches. A stroll wasn't a bad idea after all!]
[ The look he gives her is more than a little miserable. Fiona is one of those rare people he's spoken to more than once and she has been kind to him. It's a shame, he thinks, that he cannot show her a kind face right now.
The frown is set onto his face. ]
Fiona...
I cannot go back to that place. The place where I have been living. So I am staying out here. At least... I am calm in this place.
[The frown isn't completely unexpected from the young man; Fiona is already certain that he is not the beaming type. However, his explanation forces a slip of bewilderment in her expression before she settles back into a softer, sympathetic smile. From what she knows of the man he was living with, it was not a kind relationship. So Sinistra's extraction from the situation is a good thing, right?]
Must it be out here? Without a roof over your head or a bed to sleep in? [The priestess moves closer, trying to discern any signs that may tell her how long he's already been sleeping outdoors.] Nature may be a calming force, but it would not do my mind well to know you must brave the weather every hour.
[It won't do at all even if he had camping gear. He's hurting, and somehow, she's drawn to that. Whatever it is that happened, it is likely that Sinistra didn't deserve it. Which is why she reaches for his hand to lend some comforting warmth and Chroma.]
Let me take you away from here. Let us find some happiness in food and drink, and you can tell me all of your troubles.
There is no where else I can go. My brother... will surely be living with that man now, so I cannot go to him. Out here is... sufficient. I have slept in worse locations.
[ After all, sleeping in the tower was harrowing. Sleeping in the hospital room was terribly lonely, knowing his brother and he would never sleep at the same time.
Surprise crosses his face when she grasps his hand and offers. Even if it is from the Chroma, her hand really is so warm on his chilled hand. He turns his hand in hers to grasp it and after a long pause, nods his head slowly. ]
Yes... okay.
[ He can't help but just want comfort right now. ]
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action! | awful this is the first message
Archangel, at times, fears that he has distorted upon the Consciousness Orb. He fears that what he is experiencing is nothing more than a delusion of his mind in order to remain sane in a dying and rotting world. Yet he thinks that if this were a distortion -- if he had become a Grotesque -- that he would have created a world where he could bed Dextera whenever he wants.
No, wait -- the world. He would dream of a world that is whole and clean and good. Would he be the Absolute God? Is that what his ruined self believe? In such a pretty little lie. Or maybe, his mind would regress and relive the past and -- he isn't sure. What would his Baroque truly be? What horrific shape would it be? ]
Sinistra.
[ He calls to the twin that lives with him instead. He's tired of these early morning thoughts. They come to him when he looks up at the ceiling in the dark. But he isn't in any pain. Of course, the pain of being speared on the Consciousness Orb faded from his senses after awhile, too. Maybe he is in some anguish without realizing it.
Archangel crawls into the bed that Sinistra's sleeping. He reaches his hand out to brush the hair out of the other's face and behind his ear, like they're actually lovers that do those sort of actions.
He's tired of his thoughts and wants to hurt Dextera. He's filled with unreasonable hate. He wants to hurt Dextera in ways that Dextera isn't even aware of, and that brings a little bit of peace into his heart. ]
Sinistra, wake up.
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Before that, there was always a warm body beside him. He and his brother were one, so he was never lonely. Never scared. Never haunted by the silence of night. In this place, he fears falling asleep and fears waking up. He has yet to decide if living is worth it or if returning to death is too unbearable. The scales are even in his mind right now.
It has taken all his will to stay in his own room every night. He may hate the Archangel in many ways, but their ongoing intimacy and his desperate feelings from his physical distance from Dextera lead to a struggle against the desire to crawl into the man's bed for comfort. It may be a cold comfort, but at least it is relief from his oppressive loneliness.
He is only partly asleep when the Archangel's weight rocks his mattress and a hand touches his face. He opens his eyes and looks up at him in the darkness, wondering if he too seeks comfort or to eliminate him from his space with his own two hands.
He brings his hand up and lets his fingers brush the back of the Archangel's hand. ]
I am awake... why are you...?
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[ That probably isn't the question that Sinistra is asking. He's probably asking why he is crawling in bed with him. His smile warps itself into a cruel sneer for a brief second before returning to his usual soft and warm one. ]
I'm merely thinking a lot of our world. I wonder if this is the world that the Grotesques see. I wonder if, perhaps, we shall be returned to our wretched state but Dextera will be separated from us. [ Archangel actually decides to be honest. It's for no other reason than to satisfy himself, however, rather than make any real connection with the Koriel. ] But... those thoughts are incredibly boring.
[ He calls them 'boring' because he has had them before while on the Consciousness Orb. It's just the same shit in a new world. He would like for his dark thoughts to at least attempt to give him something new to fixate on. Because, if he has to be filled with anxiety and pain, he would like the experience not to just be a revised version of old issues. ]
So, I want to do something fun instead. [ His thumb runs along Sinistra's bottom lip, emphasizing the word "fun." ]
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But then, the smile settles to the one he can never believe. He listens, quiet, staring at him with his large, dull eyes and taking his words in. Even if he doesn't like him, he finds the machinations of his strange mind interesting. If they're bound like this, struggling through amicability, he might as well try to learn how this man really works. ]
... It is possible. He could be separated. He could forget again... I would not be surprised. But I wonder if the Grotesque see anything at all. Anything but their own sins.
[ He often wondered if he ever saw the true world around him. How much was clouded by pain? By loneliness? By anger and sorrow? Everything, perhaps, had been skewed. ]
They are... because there is no answer to find.
[ He parts his mouth when the Archangel runs his thumb over his lip. He breathes out, reaching a hand up to touch his face. He's been laying here, lonely and awake. He'll accept any company he can get. ]
If you want to have me... you can. Maybe... to clear your head?
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[ Archangel decides to leave the business of both of their twisting and lack of answers alone. It's something best not thought about. Besides, in the world they lived in, no one could continue living in it with some form of a Baroque. ]
You're being so kind. [ He leans his face lightly against the hand. Turning his face more, he gently kisses the inside of Sinistra's palm. ] Clearing my head is good. If I keep thinking like this, I might actually kill you.
[ His tone is even, calm, and could even be described as conversational. There is a soft smile painted on his lips as he threatens to murder him, but both of them know that's a risk they both are taking living with one another. But sometimes, it's nice to vocalize it. He kisses the inside of Sinistra's wrist before he leaves him.
It's only so that he can acquire a bottle of lubricant. ]
I really wish that you were Iris, Sinistra. I wouldn't have to waste my Chroma buying you nice things like this. [ Archangel openly complains as he returns to the bed. ] Maybe you can make a petition to the moons? [ So he says as he uncaps the bottle and pours the substance onto his hand. ]
Anyway, you seem troubled. Want to talk about it? [ His mood violently shifts about without his notice. He asks sincerely about listening to the other's problems as he prepares him. And really, for him -- what better pillow talk is there than hearing what is upsetting Sinistra? ]
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( 6/19 )
[ dextera has tried to get in contact with him about an unusual question, and his impression of the archangel in this world makes him think that he would have received an answer by now. the only other person he knows who might keep up with the archangel is his brother, and so, this is who he’s turned to. ]
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How long?
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( text, early june )
voice;
[ Presuming he's been there before. He just has to slip out of the house without questions from his 'roommate'. ]
Did something happen?
i meant july but we’ll accept that as something i’ve done
It’s him. I just don’t know what to do.
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Ah... very well. Wait for me, just a little bit, and we will talk about him and find out what you must do, then.
[ His agenda is deterrence, but he's weak to his brother. He'll go silent until he finds himself at his brother's residence, trying to open the door instead of knocking. ]
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sometime after TYL event/Audio
Are you faring well?
[Hmm, she may be also interested in talking to him about certain religious things. But hey, better make sure he's okay first.]
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I am. Relatively well. Better than I was at that time when we were speaking. Though at that time, I was better than the day before...
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I'm glad to hear that. [She means it. He seemed so glum when they last chatted. It's good that he seems to be improving in some way.]
...Would you be interested in taking a walk with me?
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That would be fine, I think.
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I wasn't kidding
Get it Fiona
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november
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He said you agreed.
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What else could I do?
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It seems our paths cross once more. What has brought you to this destination?
[Fiona has a smile on to match her curious gaze as she approaches. A stroll wasn't a bad idea after all!]
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The frown is set onto his face. ]
Fiona...
I cannot go back to that place. The place where I have been living. So I am staying out here. At least... I am calm in this place.
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Must it be out here? Without a roof over your head or a bed to sleep in? [The priestess moves closer, trying to discern any signs that may tell her how long he's already been sleeping outdoors.] Nature may be a calming force, but it would not do my mind well to know you must brave the weather every hour.
[It won't do at all even if he had camping gear. He's hurting, and somehow, she's drawn to that. Whatever it is that happened, it is likely that Sinistra didn't deserve it. Which is why she reaches for his hand to lend some comforting warmth and Chroma.]
Let me take you away from here. Let us find some happiness in food and drink, and you can tell me all of your troubles.
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[ After all, sleeping in the tower was harrowing. Sleeping in the hospital room was terribly lonely, knowing his brother and he would never sleep at the same time.
Surprise crosses his face when she grasps his hand and offers. Even if it is from the Chroma, her hand really is so warm on his chilled hand. He turns his hand in hers to grasp it and after a long pause, nods his head slowly. ]
Yes... okay.
[ He can't help but just want comfort right now. ]
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