(no subject)

[feckinboomstick]

WHO: Cassian and Sanzo in one, Cassian and Amberdrake in another
WHAT: DINNER TIME and A brief material run
WHEN: Shortly after Christmas, before the shops in Fayren close.
WHERE: Everglade and Fayren
WARNINGS: Gore, violence, mentions of cannibalism

4 SANZO
He'd gone too long. He knew he'd over extended himself, the gift he got from Tannusen could only last so long. Wheezing, stiff, the faint sound of flutes beginning to sound in the back of his mind, tonight had to be the night. He wasn't going to risk it all again, he couldn't. He couldn't keep relying on someone else here to patch him up every time he fell into shit.

He was a grown man. He could take care of this.

As it had been for two thousand years, the hunt was on. As it had been for two thousand years, the iron dagger found its mark, the husk soulless yes, but oh how they screamed like any real living thing would. Once, perhaps, he would have shrunk away from the sound. A long time ago, he'd be frantic to silence them, clumsily slashing at vocal cords and sobbing in fear and horror-

He knew how to work now, and the screaming was quickly silenced to pathetic, wet gurgling as the cloaked man snapped ribs with ease, feeling the rippling sensation of that thing pulsing in the back of his head, feeding his meager strength. Peeling the membrane off the heart. Sinking his teeth in and silencing the husk forever.

Blood everywhere. It stank of it, but the pain in his body and his lungs faded with every bite, even if it couldn't fully sate the beast. Just another bandaid.

But for now, it would do.
4 Amberdrake


Of course, Everglade wouldn't have the materials he needed. No one would stock in the type of silver he required, and he didn't even ask any shops there. Seemed like a good way to get a lot of unwanted attention. So, wrapped up in fleece and wool, cranky and miserable and cold, headed for Fayren.

They'd have what he needed, or at least part of it. He could always return home and finish blessing it all later. He had some energy in his step now, so the little man was going to be quite the obnoxious terror in Fayren, picky and fussy with everything he picked up, viciously haggling every single object down.

"I'll only be takin' pure silver, and not anything else. I don't want any steel or nickle in any of this- What else is in this mirror? Oi! Tis a real question, does it look like I'm foolin' with ye?"

Yeah. Not a good day for Fayren.

Comments

[amberdrake]

Drake... had no real reason to step into this shop on the way home from a client's house, but he did anyway. He knew at first brush that the crankiness he was feeling coming from inside wasn't Genjyo, but it was similar enough to make him curious!

And so here he was, in a random shop. He was a professional at sizing up a situation without staring, however, so he simply lingered in the background a bit. The kestra'chern was probably the most colorfully-dressed person in all the cities; it was like a rainbow had vomited on him and yet he made it look good. Tasteful. Each glittering bead and stitched feather was precisely where it should be to make him exotic, instead of an eyesore.

A few equally-colorful birds rode on his person. One, mostly red in color, chimed in enthusiastically with a "Fuck!" at the tail end of one of Cassian's rants.

[feckinboomstick]

In direct contrast, Cassian looked like he'd been pulled right out of a black and white tin type. Black coat, white collar, white flesh and hair and gray eyes. He looked like a ghost, which might have at least been part of the reason the shop keeper seemed so thrown off.

There was a momentary glance behind him at the human rainbow that had chosen to wander into the shop, and perhaps a brief flash of interest as a bird suddenly decided to speak up-

But he was directed back to the shop keeper who had been attempting to flee the oncoming battle.

"I didn't say ye could leave yet, I'm in the middle of pickin'. Ye don't shut down what until I'm finished and that's final!" Back to scrounging, which did, at least, take him closer to Drake and the birds.

It was, partially, to see if there were any silver knick nacks here.

It was also to see if the bird was just very well trained, or very well enchanted.

Call him a busy body.

He was.

[amberdrake]

Another of the birds, this one gold and black, took off from Drake's shoulder and attempted to land on Cassian's. Boundaries? What boundaries? Bird! Garth, the bird in question, muttered something in a totally foreign language in a shockingly human-sounding voice. It was almost latin? Very similar to latin.

"Garth, don't harass him!" Amberdrake called gently after the little bird.

[feckinboomstick]

Close to Latin, but not close enough for Cassian to be aware of it. Which was... somewhat strange, because he was definitely around for Latin being one of the most commonly used languages. He stares at the beast for a moment, trying to process what he'd heard and translate it, feeling a swell of annoyance as nothing seemed to really stick.

But he should know this, don't insult his intelligence, bird.

"I don't like yer tone, tweety."

[amberdrake]

"I don't like yer tone!" Garth replied, in a perfect mimic of Cassian's voice. It could be a recording.

Amberdrake sighed and went to collect the tiny bird, scooping him off Cassian with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, they keep... varied company."

"Ov yilo isi?" Red, still on Drake's shoulder, asked curiously. Because why not throw in some Kaled'a'in while they were at it, which sounded an awful lot like a mishmash of assorted Romani dialects.

[badly_behaved_priest]

Sanzo announced his presence with a click of the hammer of his revolver. Disgusting. It stank of foul magic and blood, a beacon for him to intrude, as far as he was concerned. As for who was at the center of it- that wasn't someone he suspected but he didn't care. Anyone could turn into a crazy fuck when you weren't watching them.

"Pathetic." That wasn't usually the word one would go for someone eating the heart out of still warm body. Sanzo had seen enough weird shit for it to apply.

[feckinboomstick]

He'd been alerted the moment he was there, honestly. It was a bit too late to clean up, and the less frail, but no less white being at the body looked over, half caught between the thrall of Hastur and his own cognizance. It was this mixture that staved off panic, he dropped the membrane into the open chasm where the heart had been.

"Tis." He couldn't argue.

"Wretched and depraved."

[badly_behaved_priest]

"So you're a self aware cretin." There was no question there, Sanzo made no attempt to mask his distaste. This wasn't a scene he expected to see again until he returned to his world. And not from a human, if this thing even was human.

"And without the decency to gut yourself."

The barrel of the gun was fixed on Cassian's chest. A heart for a heart, maybe?

[feckinboomstick]

"Pull your trigger then." The knife was sheathed, the bloodstained priest facing him dead on, unflinching and hollow eyed.

"Pull it and put an end to me, t'would be the best thing ye can do for anyone else here, aye? I don't wear anything to protect meself from bullets." He thumped his thin chest firmly with two fingers, never once looking away.

"Flesh and blood and bone."

[badly_behaved_priest]

Sanzo didn't, he smelled a trap through the blood and whatever horrible aura that was that covered the area around the cannibal. Sometimes he did learn his lesson, as tempting as it was to use the sutra to deal with all this mess at once.

"Hn." Sanzo sneered. How goddamn pathetic.

"Too much of a coward to do it yourself, freak?"

One more

[feckinboomstick]

And one solid hour and a half of ass whopping and bone reconfiguring later, here he was, limping back to the house with the now emptied shotgun as a makeshift cane. Drake had said be careful, and that was definitely something he was being. No mistake here, he didn't want to deal with a misplaced rib, not with the way his lungs were already.

Still, he was wheezing softly as he got to the house, never fumbling for a key, but clumsily attempting to draw the sigil on the wood of the door. Hard to do when one was shaking. From a mixture of things, and as he fumbled the exact motions again he cursed loudly, the old Gaelic tongue setting off a little chorus from the back from the frog pond.

"ye wee feckin' pecker head-

'oo is it then?

feck off befer i come over there and swat yer eyeballs out"

The thump was the sound of the priests head smacking the door in frustration.

"Shut up back there the lot of ye before I start explorin' me French cook books."

Well that worked. For now at least. He may have lied a little to Drake when he said the frogs didn't yell at him anymore. The frogs yelled at everyone.

"Feckin' blasted stupid glyph, I know how to get into me own house-"

[black_black_heart]

Tannusen peered down from the priest's roof, where he was sprawled out on his stomach, feet kicking in the air and his chin propped up on his hands. "Failing the drunkard test?" he called down, reminded of those cars with the keypads for locks meant to keep uncoordinated drunk drivers out. Not that they worked that well.

[feckinboomstick]

"... I forgot I feckin' invited ye here." Another thump. Head meet door again.

"Tis me own fault, I did this to meself. I deserve this, but I also deserve a drink." Not whiskey though. Not anymore. Anyway-

"Failin' the post non-invasive surgery test."

[black_black_heart]

A foil-wrapped package descended from on-high. Slowly, because Tannusen was using a spell to basically levitate it down. It smelled like freshly-grilled steak. Beef, specifically. Seems the pooka had brought a 'housewarming' gift. Sub-archway warming gift? Whatever. He stayed on the roof, peering over its edge as curiously as any cat.

[feckinboomstick]

Don't... Don't do it. Don't you even-

He grabbed the package, barely managing to not look like a half starved hobo on a baked potato.

"Alright, alright, ye can come in, wipe your feet and don't touch nuthin'."

[feckinboomstick]

Look, it took a few days after that to actually, really put himself back together again, in more way than one. He wasn't leaving Everglade until he could breathe without pain, and he was going to be a touch upset about his life choices for a little while longer than that.

But he'd had the good sense of mind to at least warn Amberdrake he was coming to his office that day, even gave him an open chance to back out of it if he really wanted to. After seeing him with Sanzo, he really didn't... want to impose himself on the other mans time or personal space.

But here he was, since no one told him not to, a satchel draped over his shoulder with a few books in it, mostly in case the waiting room got to be too trying a place for him without something to pass the time. If there was a waiting room. Was there a waiting room?

Well he was about to find out he supposed. God though this entire city was boring as hell, he preferred Everglade.

[amberdrake]

There was indeed a waiting room, of a sorts, but not a typical or particularly boring one. Drake's office was set up to look as boring as the rest of Attleton on the outside, but it was brimming with Kaled'a'in influence and nomadic culture on the inside.

And here was the thing about Amberdrake; he was really, really good at what he did. Without Gesten or Conrad here, that included managing his schedule. The most recent client had already left before Cassian was even in Attleton, and so even as Cassian came inside the office, Amberdrake was already stepping out of the work-room he'd been cleaning up, wiping his hands off on a small towel as he did so.

"Cassian," he said by way of greeting, with a smile. "Would you like tea?"

[feckinboomstick]

Oh good, at least the inside was interesting. He took a moment to look over the place, clearly interested in... well everything. Two thousand years often left one hungering for something different in the world.

He didn't even have to wait long, which was fine by him, and while he did seem genuinely happy to see Drake, the smile still came off a touch awkward and forced.

"Sir Amberdrake, a pleasure." He shifted the bag a touch, shaking his head.

"Nae. I'm not in any need of tea at the moment." Being here actually quite suddenly dried up his need to have much of anything.

"Sorry to contact ye at such short notice."

[amberdrake]

"Well, no one else is in the building," Amberdrake gestured at all the seating in the room, which ran down both sides. "And I know before anyone walks through the front door. Pick a spot? It's no trouble, we'd already planned to meet up soon, hadn't we?"

For silver, granted.

"I see the splints are still holding up," he didn't need the Gift to know that, with his level of anatomical knowledge, and his study of posture and body language. Drake had no doubt the priest was still in some level of pain, from the bruising at the very least, but he seemed intact. "You'd be surprised how many people ignore my warnings about their bones and re-break everything half a candle-mark after they're out of my sight."

[feckinboomstick]

"We did, yes." But that had been before he'd gone and beat the absolute snot out of his lover so... He was frankly surprised this whole thing hadn't been called off right then and there. He pondered if he should ask about Sanzo for a moment-

Aaand then cast it aside. Fuckhead wouldn't ask about him after all, fuck that guy.

"Took a few days off from the shop to let them all rest." As well as a few magical tricks of his own to help bolster healing. He could coax them to knit a bit faster, but it was by no means even a shadow of what the other man had done. More a regimen of potions and supplements. He knew he kept that dragon blood around for a reason.

"I know better than to go about muckin' around with doctors orders. Did ye get any samples from your friends?"

[black_black_heart]

It was the middle of the night, that hour when any reasonable person would probably either be at home or on their way there. Even in Everglade, unless one was out hunting for something...

Like, maybe, an ass-kicking.

The street was quiet, the muffled sound of arguing coming from an upstairs window and -- ludicrously enough -- an almost manic laughter. Then, glass shattered from someone being thrown through the window, and the person in question hit the ground with a sick thump. Bleeding all over the place through countless cuts, glazed-eyed, Tannusen found himself just trying to remember what breathing was, exactly.

At least the shouting had stopped.

Mmm... actually... that probably was not a good thing, come to think of it.

[feckinboomstick]

You know, most people don't actively look for someone to kick their ass. That's not a thing most people do to pass a boring Saturday night.

But here we are anyway. The crunch of approaching footsteps, and a very familiar, vaguely annoyed but mostly concerned voice speaking over top of him.

"Ye don't half ass fuck things up do ye?"

He'd been out, actually, to collect a certain night blooming flower, necessary for a particular charm he'd been attempting to perfect. So of course he'd be out now.

[black_black_heart]

Tannusen had just fallen from a second story window -- okay, been flung, but who cared about semantics? -- and still most definitely had the wind knocked out of him. So, he just rolled onto his back and wheezed up at the cranky asthmatic. The 'shoo' gesture from one bleeding hand was clear enough, at least.

Aaaand the fact that the front door to that house was being slammed open from the inside would be why!

[feckinboomstick]

He was pretty sure fairies could handle a little abuse. Second story window dives aren't nothing right?

Right of course.

"Don't ye shoo me, the hell did ye even do? Why can't ye just sit inside and watch the telly like everyone else at this hour?"

Oh well it looked like he was about to find out as the door slammed open, the priest looking up from the miserable lump on the ground to whoever was about to come storming out the door.

This should be good.

[black_black_heart]

Tannusen's chosen entertainment for the night was a very large, very strong, very angry guy whose knuckles were already bloody from -- yeah. Tannusen turned his head away and spat out a mouthful of blood. His knuckles were raw from punching the shit out of the Fae upstairs.

The guy seemed content to ignore the priest, marching on over and reaching down to grab a now-grinning Tannu by the throat. A pale face watched from upstairs. A woman? A very under-dressed woman.

What had Tannusen done, in-deed.