genessia | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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-"

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.

"... 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."

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.

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'."

Thankfully for Cassian, the foil package was nice and pleasantly warm, but not burning hot.

"I don't know, I kinda like the roof," Tannusen was a cat. A tiger, yes, but that was just a very big cat. Cats were contrary assholes. "Besides, you can't get your door open. Why would I come down if you can't get your door open? Do you want me to break in for you?"

Oh, wouldn't that be a hoot.

"I could open a portal on the door you could step through, you could break into your own house!"

"Then live up there." Oh, someone wasn't even in the mood to argue tonight.

"Oh sure sure, I can break into me own house, sure. I want somethin' special on the obituary though, can't have it mentioned I was killed in a massive magical explosion from bein' too wobbly what to open me own door."

There, finally got it. The door clicked, and the click of several other things sounded off as he stepped inside, and left the door open.

"Break into me own house."

Tannu was on the roof... and then he wasn't. He made a show of brushing off his suit before stepping in after the priest, all but grinning. "Yeah, I cast a kenning on the place before you came hobbling up."

That had told him plenty about the land-mines inside. Not specifics, but that they were there. He could have kept at it until he knew more, but he honestly hadn't cared that much. The roof was as good a place to wait as anywhere.

"I could have tossed Oakenshield on you, then you'd have been fine using portal passage. Probably."

"It takes two hours to set all of them up after they go off, and I ain't got the mind to reset them right now." The gun was set beside an overstuffed chair, and he went to slump into it. Welcome to the rectory, Tannu.

Cluttered and stuffed full of magical and medical oddities, but mostly magical.

"Right. So what do ye want." He'd make tea but-

"I'm a touch sore at the moment, I'm afraid a jolly romp through the house with ye is off the list of activities for tonight."

Tannusen clasped his gloved hands behind his back and peered all around. Look at him, not touching anything! Yet. He wouldn't bother to resist for too long. Cat, after all.

"Someday, I'm going to break in here and move everything two inches to the left, just to see if you notice..." he glanced over at Cassian and quirked an eyebrow. "I saw how you grabbed at that; you may as well eat it. What, you need a fancy dining room table and cutlery for a simple steak?"

"I will now."

He had been picking at the tinfoil for a moment idly, hard to tell if he wasn't as hungry as he let on, or he was waiting for the fairy to take his leave, but as he was questioned about his possible prissy needs to go about eating, he turned, and made direct eye contact.

Unwrapped the steak. Direct eye contact.

And bit off a massive chunk of it.

Direct eye contact.

Tannu grinned, showing off the weirdness of his teeth -- though at least Cassian knew why they didn't quite seem right, now -- and golf-clapped.

Yes, golf-clapped.

Asshole. But no, he knew why. Hanging out with people with weird teeth was his life for a long time, so... at least some things never change.

"Ye ain't half bad a cook if this was your doin'." Look at that, he even said a Nice Thing.

"I don't know if I can stick around if you're going to be all complimentary," Tannusen chuckled, because yes, that was his doing. "I work the kitchen at my place. No real people have applied for the job and none of the fakes are any good at a steak. It offends me."

"Well don't feckin' give me good food an' tell me ye made it, ye proud struttin' arse." Well there, happy now? He took another feral bite out of it, casually picking a fiber from his teeth with a pinky.

"I'm sure there some magic steak makin' wizard out there just waitin' for ye to stumble on 'em."

"You'd think so, with what I pay, but it seems not."

A tragedy, really. Apparently no one wanted 3000 red bills a month to cook a few steaks a night.

Don't ask Cassian. He is Irish, and he cooks like he's Irish. That steak is almost gone, he may as well have tiger teeth in there at the rate he's polishing it off.

"Nae, of course not, everyone's too busy jumpin' round grabbin' bounties. Much more interestin' than cookin' steaks an' a steady wage."

Hey, it's a really good steak so it doesn't take all that much chomping. Good cut, good grill. Practically melts in the mouth. What can Tannu say? He's good with meat.

"I mean, I did help kill a Manticore once for a village of Nockers. But they built me a chimera for my trouble. That's worth a lot more than, what, a thousand red bills?" Most of the bounties Tannusen had seen whenever he'd cared to open the paper hadn't paid much, probably because there was no shortage of people looking to do them. "And there was the time I went after a Jaberwocky. I do not recommend biting one of those things' throats out, the taste lasts for days and it's awful."

The steak was now gone, and yes, he's going to sit here and slowly tear the tin foil to shreds. Fight him.

"I ain't fightin' no one in town for the joy of not bein' able to shoot some soggy bag of pummeled arseholes in the face." He'd seen the rules though. Couldn't kill most of the people that ended up in the paper here. No had to bring them in and let them get all locked up and appropriately brought to trial.

"That too," Tannusen sighed, and folded his arms. He stared at Cassian through his spectacles. "Alright, fine, I'll bite. What's with you?"

There were way too few insults going on here. He came here to get yelled at and made miserable, damnit!

"I just got some blood punched out of me by a donkey in a white toga, it's not a good night for bein' a cuss to ye. If ye want me in fightin' fit form, come back maybe like a week from now."

It wasn't the whole story, but it was part of it. It was enough of it.

"Fair enough," Tannusen shrugged one shoulder, and actually turned to go.

"... I didn't say I didn't want your company." Tin foil was stuffed inside tin foil.

"Unless all ye wanted was some mouthy comments. Wouldn't mind some company."

Tannusen paused with his back to Cassian, halfway to the door. His fingertips briefly dug into his bicep where his arms were still folded. He really should just leave...

He shut his eyes for a moment, and didn't quite sigh... barely.

"Alright, you've won me over with your boundless charms," the tiger laughed, none of that tension apparent when he turned back around. He passed by the empty second chair and perched on the arm of Cassian's chair instead, like he owned the place. Cat. Maybe he was just daring the human to change his mind.

Nope. Not changing it. He didn't really look up or anything, every motion like someone who was far, far too used to this behavior, honestly.

"Aye, a regular prince." The ball was tossed into a nearby waste basket.

"Why did ye come here then, since ye ain't gonna walk out now? Just for the sake of listenin' to me yell at ye?"

One more

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject