genessia | (no subject)

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(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.

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Probably not what Sanzo was experiencing back at home.

Second rate was better than zero!

He didn't answer, but never really actually tensed up again. Sleep wasn't usually something that came easily to the priest but, at long last, he did finally nod away.

Tannusen remained awake a while, eyes shut, just kicking himself repeatedly in his mind. He was usually more... nocturnal, but he also didn't usually lay in beds. So eventually the latter did win, and he dozed off into a fitful, extended nap.

Don't worry, just because he doesn't get to sleep fast doesn't mean he sleeps for a long time.

No, there was movement at the very crack of dawn, the frogs in the frog pond sending up a chorus of FECKS into the beautiful morning sky. Cassian was stirring, feeling the warmth of a body resting comfortably against his back, the weight soothing.

It felt... nice. He couldn't remember waking up and feeling this relaxed. Tannu had held his end of the request. So.

"... Alright that's enough of this crap, get off the bed before I kick ye off."

Tannu was pretty easy to snap awake. The frogs did it, honestly, but he stayed where he was until the clearly-repressed catholic spoke up. He snorted, a final warm puff of air against Cassian's neck, and then the fae rolled away and off the bed in one smooth motion like he'd done it a thousand times.

Clearly deeply repressed, he'd snagged a bathrobe, wrapped it tightly enough around himself to possibly kill him or break his ribs for the second time, and started for the bathroom.

Then slowed, stopped, and looked back.

"... Bacon and sausage in the refrigerator. Eggs and milk too. In case you're interested."

Tannu was already lacing up his boots by the time that registered, and he paused mid-lace, holding the strings like a garrote. Something else he'd done for a living, before. The garrote bit, not breakfast.

Had he just been asked to stay? Really?

He finished lacing up his boots -- combat boots, not exactly what most people wore with their white suits -- and pulled the bottom of his slightly wrinkled suit pants down over the tops of them to hide most of what they were. He pulled on his jacket, tied up his hair, and replaced his glasses on his nose.

And then he stood outside the bathroom door, as silent as a shadow, arms folded.

There is no steam coming out of that door. Not even a little bit. Lots of shower sounds though, tons of that, scads of that. But no steam. And it lasts a long time. He's in there a while.

When he does come out, he's vaguely grayish, lips a faint blue, jamming his glasses back on his face stubbornly with a shaking hand and almost running face first into Tannu's chest.

Well.

"... Well there ain't no bacon in there, I can tell you that."

"Well, no, you went and froze it all," Tannusen smirked, and stepped out of the way smoothly. "Do you always turn yourself into an ice-pop in the morning, or do I just have that effect."

Watch and be amazed, as this man makes direct eye contact and says, with no hint of stammer, hesitation or consideration:

"It's stimulatin'. Wakes ye up in the mornin', I do it daily."

Tannusen just looked Cassian up and down. Mostly down, with their height difference. "Uh, huh."

And he headed for the stairs down, apparently satisfied with his verdict on the situation.

"Tis true, may God strike me down." Said with the conviction of a man who knows better, heading down the stairs behind him and for the kitchen.

"... There's coffee too."

Just some friends. Having a sleep over. Only they're adults and shared a bed.

No big deal nothing weird here.

"Ugh, coffee. Of course there's coffee," Tannusen went straight into the kitchen and started rummaging around, anyway. Apparently he was going to cook breakfast, by the looks of things.

"Of course of course there's coffee." He goes to immediately drag the bacon out of the fridge.

"Don't bother lookin' for much else. I got black tea an' that's it."

"Black tea is just fine," Tannu plucked the bacon out of Cassian's hands. "How about I handle the cold meat? I think you've done enough of that for the morning."

He does try to snatch it back, snarling as Tannu oh so dared to make that joke at him.

"Ye ain't funny!" SHUT UP, TANNU.

"Quit bein' a bloody prat!"

"Yes, get that blood pumping before the poor thing falls off like an icicle in the spring," Tannusen laughed, holding the bacon up. What you gonna do, Cass, jump and risk some friction?

He's going to scream inside, then throw up his hands and march over to make his own damn coffee..

"Quit talkin' about it!"

"You could always occupy my mouth with something else," Tannusen was on a roll, today. Bacon secured, he went hunting for a pan of... well, any type. A stick? What did people as backwards as Cassian use, anyway.

There's a very nice cast iron pan, and a typical non stick steel one. Take your pick.

As for Tannu, a very well thrown sugar spoon sails in his heads general direction, accompanied with the sweet sound of the priest cursing him out in Gaelic.

Tannu paused as though surprised and half-turned to look at Cassian, one eyebrow up. "Is that a yes?"

See, sometimes the language barrier could be twisted right back around into one's favor if you were clever enough.

"DOES IT SOUND LIKE A FECKIN' YES?!"

Cass.

Cass no.

Cass you were so clever last night why Cass.

Tannusen didn't seem phased by the raise in volume. His eyebrow remained up. "Well, I mean, I've had some extraordinarily enthusiastic 'yeses' given to that offer..."

"WELL THIS AIN'T ONE OF 'EM!"

Ding! The coffee that he so clearly, deeply needs is done, and with another curse he goes to pour it.

Like... Like a lot of it.

Shit, Cass.

Tannusen squinted at Cassian very closely, waiting for the stove to heat up his chosen pan to the temperature he wanted. He was looking for any shaking in the priest's hands.

Meanwhile, he shrugged his jacket off again and set it aside, and took both gloves off, before unbuttoning and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Grease splatters were a thing with bacon, okay? Okay.

Of course, the scarring Cassian had seen yesterday didn't stick to just the one hand, or stop at the little bit of wrist that had been visible at the cuff of his shirt. His wrists were ringed in scarring in particular, smooth and old, pale and shiny. And both forearms had clearly encountered their share of knives and burns.

All of him is shaking, Tannu. Every inch. He starts drinking coffee like it's coolaid, all the while staring at him grumpily as if looks alone might be enough to shut up him.

More scars, though by now, he'd gotten used to the idea of a fairy having them. Didn't stop him from looking, curiosity was a sin of his, no disgust at all.

Just... quiet curiosity.