genessia | Forward dated to After The Water Event because something something something

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Forward dated to After The Water Event because something something something

Who: Cassian (Now as one person) and Amberdrake
Where: Attleton, at Drake's office
Why: We've all learned an important life lesson about punching tigers.

So... returning to one body was actually a lot less painful than one would imagine. Rather it sort of happened while both halves were asleep.

The painful part, on top of clashing memories, was the insane amount of physical damage. All of it. Just all the physical damage ever. Is his jaw broken? Shit there's holes in him too holy fuck how did those get there- Oh his ribs were broken again.

... Welp.

There was always Drake, but as Cassian recalled... Drake didn't much care for Everglade. And he really didn't need this to be more trouble than it already was.

Which was why, a good... hour or more later, Amberdrake would get a visitor.

In Attleton.

In a very thick obscuring cloak, not that it'd matter due to the fact that one of them was an empath and the other one was walking around with like more than three broken bones at a time.

Not even a voiced answer to alert or greet him, just a text-

I've cocked some things up

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Tannusen couldn't hide forever.

Together as one person now, there were a few memories to be dealt with, and for a while he gave the tiger his space, if only so he could collect his own thoughts. Two dueling versions of the pooka came and went in his mind, and he weighed them against the other.

Against past meetings.

Against past conversations.

He couldn't let it go. He couldn't let this go. He couldn't just never talk to him again. This was something that had to be discussed, whether Tannusen wanted to or not, and he didn't care if he had to track down every new teleportation location every single goddamn time, he'd have this talk with him.

See him hang up on a face to face conversation.

It wasn't hard to find the club, he'd even politely waited until the night, because he could respect the fairy's territory, but come nightfall it was open ground, and in he went.

He wasn't subtle, because the patrons weren't subtle, and if he didn't find Tannusen first, no doubt the good owner would be alerted to his presence by a loud series of violent swears coming from the passage between the upper club floors and lower bar room.

They were all deeply inventive and somewhat disconcerting, and chances were, he probably wasn't lying about any of them to his unwanted beau of the evening.

"Bryant, if you don't stop harassing the patrons, I'll throw you out myself and this time it'll be permanent," that was a very tired-sounding Tannusen from the top of the stairs, the club's flashing lights spinning past behind him. "Leave him alone."

'Bryant' grumbled and backed off, going back down the stairs. Tannusen just shook his head, and regarded Cassian in silence.

Well, you found him...

Now what?

Well. Good. He was worried he'd have to break a man's nose tonight. He watched as 'Bryant' left, before turning his attention on Tannusen.

One might imagine it would be awkward. Maybe a long silence, some thoughtful pondering on what to say next-

"I imagine ye'll want some privacy for this conversation, it's not one for a staircase."

It wasn't like Tannusen was really hiding, per se. Velvet Lust was his territory, and he was hard-wired to not abandon it. Besides, even if he did, this world wasn't very large. He knew how much space he needed to disappear effectively, and there just wasn't... enough of it here.

Not with, what, a hundred 'real' people around, at most?

The Fae gestured back down the stairs and started down that way himself, letting the club door swing shut behind him. It muffled a lot of noise!

No fancy suits, today, just simple jeans and a t-shirt.

And he followed, without batting an eye.

No gun on him, just the dagger, but honestly that was almost always at his hip, so it shouldn't be much of a surprise. Cassian was... well dressed as per the usual, probably why he even attracted attention in the first place here.

"Right."

RIGHT.

"... I want to start this off properly."

SO.

"... Your good side's a lot taller than I expected him to be."

"...Uh-huh," Tannusen lead the way into the kitchen, then through another door into a tiny, cramped office. The desk and chair folded up and stood against a bookcase, tiny. Tannusen chose an empty wall and leaned back against it, arms folded. He'd noticed the lack of a gun, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with that.

"Pretty sure both halves were the same height, but sure. Real tall."

There was an attempt. Pushing on nevertheless.

"There's a lot that forms an opinion of someone, Tannusen. There's a lot that makes someone. A man is neither black nor white, but varying shades of gray, and to purify both sides into their most concentrated form would make a saint and a demon of anyone."

He didn't sit or relax, maintaining eye contact, his tone soft, but clear.

"Tis not the action of one side in one moment that I should judge you, as I'd hope ye wouldn't judge me for the actions of a beast I try to tether.

It would be unfair. Unjust."

"I quite liked your mean side," Tannusen smiled a thin, weak little smile. "Very focused guy, he was."

Focused on eating tiger, but whatever. It could be worse! And Tannu had beat him to the punch as far as looking for trouble went.

'Looking for trouble'. Ha. The thin smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Good luck with meeting his eyes, Cassian, Tannusen was of a mind to avoid that. He stared at the wall across from him, instead.

Edited 2017-01-21 05:41 (UTC)

"He's a tit, I had to rebreak a few ribs to put 'em back where they belong because of him." That's right, not you, Tannusen. Him.

"Planned on some lovely acts of terrorism, actually. A few exploded political buildings here and there, some dead real people, didn't much care if they were adult, child or otherwise. I'd say if it wasn't for those broken ribs, smashed jaw and puncture wounds, Everglade would be on fire right now, and a lot of people who didn't deserve it would be very dead."

A pause.

"In that vein, if it wasn't for him, I suppose a few people would have suffered quite a fate as well."

Another pause.

"I'm tryin' to tell ye, neither of us were good people that night."

Tannusen couldn't help but look at the mention of puncture wounds, his gaze settling on the shoulder he'd bit. Cassian didn't seem to still be injured, so he must have gotten it taken care of through magical means. Good.

"I meant what I said on the phone," he said quietly. "Just because I have my pretty bow back in place doesn't make me less of a piece of shit. I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, here. Is this some priesty thing you're doing?"

"I meant what I said too, even if it was jut fifty percent of me sayin' it." And with that fifty percent bolstered by the asshole fifty percent with all the balls here-

"I'm sayin' it because I like ye, ye daft, stupid, self loathin' fleabag. Least now we can both admit to bein' pieces of shit."

"There's nothing to like," Tannusen shook his head, and he un-leaned from the wall, "it's just a bunch of bullshit I use to bury the rest. That's it. That's my whole charming personality. If you're not here to stab the shit out of me, I should go back upstairs."

"So you're tellin' me the nice fellow with the note for his tree who teleported me out of a closet was a feckin' illusion?

And that all this time, ye took no personal interest in me at all, tis why ye kept comin' over when I asked ye to and help me dig through a crypt.

All an elaborate game unto which the end was... what then?

I suppose then I should tell ye, if that's the case, then I've only an interest in ye for your soul and that's it, makes just as much sense to me."

"I tried to hurt you," Tannusen said, very quietly. "I don't know why you're so eager to sweep that aside, or to write it off, but I can't."

His fingers tightened visibly against his folded arms. No gloves; the white knuckles were as plain as day to see.

"I just can't."

"Yeah, and fifty percent of me was gonna kill you. Slowly! Painfully! It's terrible, it's almost as if we were plannin' on doin' the same thing to each other in a different shape innit?

Like we're just a pair of terrible people who happen to really get along with each other!

What a feckin' concept, Tannusen, djya think?"

GOD YOU'RE SO DIFFICULT.

The smaller man was now advancing, lifting a fist to wave it.

"And if yer sweepin' my murderous cannibalistic plots against ye aside I'll sweep your violence away too!

Now I'm gonna say this once and I don't want to repeat it again, and if ye open yer stupid feckin' gob and tell me I'm wrong one more time, I'm gonna get my shotgun and explain it with that!"

Aaand with that, he aimed a solid right hook for the pooka's jaw, the war cry echoing through the room-

"I like ye, ye stupid, thickheaded gobshite!"

The swing connected, as they tended to do when Tannusen wasn't in a mood to fight back. He lifted a hand to his jaw reflexively, and finally made eye contact.

He really wasn't doing good!

He could see that, but expressing feelings other than anger and irritation were difficult for Cassian, and when he reeled his fist back for another enraged blow, the lack of any kind of argument on Tannusen's part was the anchor that dragged it back down.

An open hand moved to rest on the one that now lay on Tannusen's jaw, the smaller man quaking with the most confusing mixture of emotions and thoughts he'd ever had to puzzle over in his long, long life.

"... And if ye don't care for me back, say it now, and say it honestly. Meet me in the eye and tell me you never want to see my face or hear my voice again, and I'll grant ye that, Tannusen.

... Because if that's what will make ye any happier, than it'll be enough to make me happy."

Tannusen swallowed, and looked away for a moment like he was really going to try to do exactly that if he could just steel himself enough for it...

But he couldn't.

"I... care," he said, very quietly, like it was a secret he didn't dare speak of too loudly. "I can't pretend I don't. It would be better if I could, but I can't."

"It wouldn't, because it'd be a lie. A terrible one that never needed to be said, and it wouldn't only wound just you."

His motions were awkward and fumbling, as if showing tenderness were alien to him, but he smoothed a shaking hand over his jaw where he'd struck him.

"Because I mean what I say, Tannusen, and I'd pluck myself from here if ye asked it of me, simply because ye did."

"What I tried to do... it is worse, to me," Tannusen still couldn't meet his eyes, not again. "I killed my first target when I was seven. I don't care about murder. Hell, my 'good' side beat the other side to death, didn't he? With my bare hands. That was the 'good' half -- who the fuck does that?"

He sank down against the wall, intending to sit on the floor.

"Even now, I'm just a dramatic, sad asshole."

"Aye. To you." And he couldn't deny those feelings mattered. So he didn't. Instead he followed Tannusen to the floor, settling beside him.

"... Hell of a lot better than some twat I could name who got himself locked in a closet." Okay, he couldn't let that one go.

"Ye are. A dramatic, sad asshole next to a dramatic angry asshole. Perfectly complimentin' each other.

Like a peanut butter cup made out of catshit, we are."

"That is... disgusting," Tannusen couldn't help a weak little chuckle, though. Eww.

"Ye laughed tho." So it's a minor win.

"And ye didn't disagree either."

"It is pretty funny that you locked yourself in the closet," Tannusen, no. "I mean, just the symbolism alone has to be worth something."

Edited 2017-01-21 07:12 (UTC)

"I think the symbolism was me bein' unable to get meself out of the closet, I thought I was better at pickin' locks but apparently that went to the arse in the attic.

So I'm in the closet with problems in the attic, the whole thing could have been written by Shakespeare himself."

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