genessia | 2nd fire = i'll leave you choking on every word you left unspoken

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2nd fire = i'll leave you choking on every word you left unspoken

[VIDEO;public]

[When the feed goes live, Neil's face is front and center, but he's not looking at the camera. He's somewhere in Fayren, based on the decor--at the Drunken Monkey, for those familiar with the establishment. It's not terribly noisy at the moment, and from the looks of things Neil has shoved himself into a far corner, back to the wall. He's hunched over the table, hand hovering after turning on his smart phone while he appears to finish writing something down on a piece of paper in front of him.

A few long seconds passes, then he finally sets his pen down and looks up.]

Hey--sorry 'bout that, didn't wanna lose a thought. Just kinda curious about something--stuff...my brain's just workin' overtime, so call it a poll. In the worlds you all come from, what's the general consensus on revenge? Culturally, spiritually, philosophically...is it a good or a bad thing? And if it's anything you'd actively do, what's your favorite way? I mean...

[He trails off, huffing in a moment of mild frustration as he starts to talk with his hands.]

Like me. I come from two worlds--one, revenge isn't something that's encouraged. If you do it, though, there's an expression--'revenge is a dish best served cold.' The other, the whole things a little gray. Avenging your honor, or that of family, friends, lovers--it's done, even if it's not totally okay, but for personal slights or harm? Spirituality preaches that forgiveness is wisdom...and culturally, you're seen as a stronger person for finding justice if the law brings you none. There's an old saying there, too--'wield the sword of vengeance not with the hand, but with the heart.' Don't go after someone just 'cause you feel you have to, in other words. Do it because you absolutely believe you have to.

So...what's your take? Or your world's take, I mean. Gimme your thoughts.

[VIDEO;private to Regina Mills]

Hey, how do you spell your mother's name? With a 'C' or a 'K?'

[He's asking for a friend. Honest.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

okay

still gonna show you

just when im done

hey what was the name of that douchebag that your mother tried to fix you up with

the one with the fake tattoo

The Sheriff of Nottingham. In the Land without Magic, he's called Keith.

I hung him upside down over a fire pit. He was a laughingstock after that.

keith

embers balls

and i thought neil was a douchey name

fucking keith man

I thought it was appropriate.

[ Of course they'd yet to actually talk about the Dark Curse, but she talked around it often enough that she didn't expect it would confuse him. ]

He's always been a colossal asshole.

youre not wrong

but colossal asshole

nice

careful though youre starting to sound like me

That I choose not to curse is not proof that I don't know how.

I just prefer my filth at more intimate volumes.

i know you curse

and i know exactly how you like your filth

speaking of filth want me to walk you home after you get out of work

[...so he can get you naked after he sees you safely to your door?]

Mmm, you are definitely learning how I like my filth.

[ No point letting him get too cocky with his knowledge, now, is there? Still, she's smiling at her phone. ]

You can walk me home. I'll even let you carry my books and kiss me at the door if you're a good boy.

that could be a problem

i mean doesnt being a good boy defeat the purpose of being filthy

[Just this face as he looks into his phone. Neil Blair, dragon brat.]

If you don't think you can be both at once, you're not using your imagination.

[ They have a way to go before she'll be willing to play those sorts of games with him, but there's no harm in teasing about it. She looks good in black leather and he looks very good on his knees. ]

[Black leather doesn't spring immediately to mind, though his thoughts do flirt with it--those long limbs and dangerous curves in the soft, form fitting drake hide training uniform of the Nocturne guard, dark as pitch against pale skin...

What his his imagination so hard that his mouth goes dry and his lungs deflate is the familiar feel of Regina's hand in his hair, yanking for leverage to put him on his knees.]

no im not

i cant

im in a public place

and even without using my imagination

let me tell you again how much i love how little you fuck around

[ At first she misses the implication, but when it hits her, she laughs, soft and slow and husky. It's suddenly hot as hell in her office and she's having a hard time not using her imagination. But it's him and not her imagination she wants, so she'll wait and they can 'talk' later. ]

Hold that thought. We can play with it later.

See you in a few hours.

[ A pause, and a shift of her emotions with it. She hasn't seen him in forty-eight hours and it feels like a year. ]

Missed you last night.

[The suspense is going to kill him, he's pretty sure...then she sends a third text, and he cracks a little as he reads it.

Because this is the part of dahgo that he didn't count on: being vulnerable doesn't just mean being vulnerable to her. It means being vulnerable period--having weaknesses, leaving his strength divided by placing his heart in her hands, coming to terms with the fact that, for every piece of herself she has given him, he's lost one in return to make room.

Perfect conquest, it turns out, is kind of a bitch.]

missed you too beloved

slept like shit

didnt realize how damn cold it is to sleep alone these days

[ They've already talked about it, him moving in when she gets the castle -- because she will. She wants that and she's not giving it up. And abruptly she doesn't care if it's too soon or she wants him too much. Why should he sleep poorly? Why should she miss him? ]

So don't.

Don't sleep alone.

Stay with me.

[Neil reads the messages three times, trying very hard not to get too excited. Because it sounds an awful lot like--

They'd talked about it. But that wasn't now. She just meant coming over tonight...]

until we can take the castle you mean

[ She can almost feel him trying to figure it out while he doesn't answer, but she forces herself not to second guess him. His answer is so him, she grins. ]

As often as you want.

Get rid of the house if you want.

I mean, come stay with me.

[Neil has to take a second to fold his arms on the table, drop his head into them, and grin like an idiot because this is actually happening and he's so happy it's stupid. It's actually literally stupid how good he feels right then.

About ten seconds passes before he texts her back.]

ill keep the house until we get the castle

if we cant talk charlie into moving ill get her to take it off my hands

meantime im packing up my shit and youre fucking stuck with me as of tonight beloved

Stuck fucking with you.

[ That comes back so fast it's like she was expecting him to say what he did. He is a little predictable that way.

She does smile, though, and feel that brilliant, irrepressible, effervescent lightness that comes with knowing she's made him happy. Or maybe it's just her being happy, because of him. ]

I think I'll survive it.

[ Another pause, this one brought to you by a pleasant daydream of going to sleep together even without bedtime recreation. ]

~~I love you.~~ I'm glad you said yes.

that too

[He may never stop smiling. There might even be a brief fistpump out of sheer glee. He gets a few stares from the patrons of the tavern but he doesn't give a rat's ass.

He's thinking about the same thing without knowing what's on her mind: just crawling into bed, wrapping his arms around her, and dropping like a stone into that deep, restful, dreamless kind of sleep he never knew existed before he met her, the kind he's gotten used to since they met--among a million other little, stupid, pointless things that he can't wait to do with her.]

im glad you offered

im glad period

today is the best goddamn day

i say we celebrate by bringing food in and forgetting to eat it due to lack of clothing

or fuck it well eat dinner and then outlaw clothing

or just go to sleep

~~i love you~~ tell me if im being obnoxious otherwise i wont shut up

[ Ah, there it is, her ever timely panic attack over being too happy. Feeling too much. Wanting this too much.

She hates it, but she can't control it. But she can keep it out of his face right now. Phones are good for that. ]

We'll celebrate. I want pancakes for dinner.

Or cake. Chocolate cake. And ice cream.

And you.

Or we'll just sleep.

Maybe shower and sleep.

What time will you be done tonight?

call it six

maybe earlier

i have pathetically few things to pack up

then im all yours

I thought you were all mine already.

[ Her thumb hovers over the send, her heart beating too hard and the fear drying her mouth. Again. Maybe him being there all the time will help. Or maybe it'll just make her more afraid of what happens when he's not.

She sends it. Gods help her. ]

ive been yours since you laughed at me for calling you sweetheart

havent you been paying attention

cause if you were youd know im lying

ive been yours since the word YOU

[He hesitates for a split second--is it too much? Hell, she probably doesn't even remember...

Fuck it.

He hits send and pockets his phone so he can gather up the list of names hes assembling--all of them going straight to the Sky Maker.

Everyone that she's told him ever hurt her. Every person he knows about that hurt Charlie.

He'll save his spiritual revenge for another day--a day that's not as happy as moving day.]

[ The messages roll from him to her in that rhythm she recognizes as Neil-overwhelmed-with-his-feelings. His texts come fast and unedited, and sometimes he starts to sound like an incredibly sappy love song.

Which she's not going to admit (probably) that she absolutely adores. She's wanted to be loved like this all her life, to love like this.

That's probably why she's so sensitive to the pause. What's he waiting for? What is he deciding whether he should or shouldn't say? Did he get interrupted?

It's not long enough for her to worry that he's disappeared, but it is long enough for her to remember that she worries about that. She sighs and starts to put her phone down but there's the message--

ive been yours since the word YOU

And then it's her text that comes too slow, because the tears are blurring her vision. She wants to call and tell him I know you're not waiting to hear it, but I've been waiting to say it until it stopped being terrifying. But it's never going to stop being terrifying, and the only thing more terrifying is never getting the chance to say it because I waited too long, and then just tell him. Tell him over and over.

But the phone isn't the place for it and he'll be there when she gets home. She probably won't say it then. But she might.

She shakes her head at herself and smiles. ]

Sometimes it occurs to me that I could have missed that message. And then I wonder how we would have met again, and how it would've been different.

Because I know what wouldn't have been.

Edited 2018-09-27 06:32 (UTC)

[He worries, in that pause, that he might have pushed it or she has no idea what she's talking about--but like she always does, she proves him wrong when she answers.

Of course she remembers. Doesn't miss a single trick, not his girl.]

story wouldve been the same

wed still have found each other

just would have taken longer for us to get together maybe

on second thought youre right

thats a terrifying thought

2nd fire = i'll leave you choking on every word you left unspoken

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