genessia | (no subject)

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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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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.

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.

You are so stupid, Tannu. Possibly the stupidest person he's met all month. He should go, he really should just walk away. This isn't his problem, stupid asshole clearly did this to himself, on purpose.

Not his problem.

...

ugh

"Now I hope ye don't plan on smackin' him about in front of me, sir." Come on, have some sense of decency.

"Why not?" The guy had no problem lifting Tannu haphazardly to his feet, and Tannu had no problem being lifted. He tried, again, to shoo Cassian off. He could teleport away if he needed to, right? Probably? Did that work with a concussion?

Why not. Well clearly the priest angle won't work here so-

"Tis me brother, firstly, and mother will throw a positive fit if he comes home dead again. I'll have to stick him all back together and slaughter at least three sheep to bring him back.

It's a pain and we're runnin' low on sheep.

Secondly, its really going to hurt your wifes side business what with you beatin' up the patrons."

... Cass no.

Tannusen gurgled out something that might have been a laugh if not for the meat-vice of a hand currently squeezed around his throat. Nice.

The man stared down at Cassian for a moment, and then hurled Tannusen straight at the mouthy little runt!

Mission accomplished he got his fucking tiger back.

A quick hop to the side saw poor Tannu sailing past him as elegant and regal as an eagle.

Well... a dead eagle.

"Thank ye, appreciate your willingness to reason."

His fucking tiger? Oh my god, Cassian, get off his fucking di--

Tannusen hit the ground and rolled to a stop a few feet later. Hhhhhh everything was still spinning...

The man, at least, decided he'd had enough aggravation for the night and stormed back into his house, slamming the door after himself hard enough that another piece of glass broke loose upstairs and shattered on the ground.

Shut up, asshole.

Content in his victory, he goes to Tannusen now, prodding him with a boot.

"Oi. Might want to use some of that magic ye got floatin' about. I ain't a healer and yer too fat for me to go luggin' home if your legs don't work."

Tannusen stayed on the ground for a bit, still trying to get his breath back. Impact, a choking, and then another smaller impact hadn't left him with much room to get air flowing again!

Once that was accomplished, he spat up more blood and then climbed up onto his hands and knees. He got a boot under himself, planted it firmly, and then pushed himself upright, swaying dangerously once he was back on his feet. Healing? Fuck healing. That defeated the purpose of getting his ass kicked. Besides...

"No Glamour."

"'Course not, that would just be silly. Gettin' into a scrap with no magic, definitely one of the best choices you've made all week."

At least he was standing, and Cass wouldn't ask. He grabbed a hand, pulled it so that the arm went over his own shoulder, and started.

"I'm takin' ye in with me, don't argue. Keep your gob shut, I can see you've probably done enough with it tonight. Don't argue with me or I'll club ye and drag ye back."

Oh like that threat was going to work. If anything, in Tannusen's current mood? It was encouragement.

"That was pretty funny," yeah, his voice sounded like shit right after that choking. "Almost worth you ruining my evening."

Honestly, how rude.

His hair had come loose at some point; some of it was plastered to his bloodied face. He painted a very unhinged picture, which... well, he was.

Not much to doubt, there.

"I'm sorry I interrupted your self flagellation, I'll be sure to give ye a stick to continue the progress when we get back to the house." Asshole.

Yeah, he's a rude little guy, this shouldn't come as any sort of surprise to you, Tannu.

Unhinged indeed, and with a grumble, as they walked, he fished a rag from the satchel and moved to try and wipe some of the blood off of his face.

At least so that his hair wouldn't stick to his brow and get in his eyes.

"Ye gonna be a pill all the way there?"

"Yes," at least he was honest. Tannusen flinched away from the rag, reflexively, but didn't jerk away like he could have. Honestly, most of his conscious effort was going into not turning into dead weight.

...With mixed success. A stumble almost took him down. Under his hair, his eyes were glazed and wide, and not quite sane.

The nagging takes on a different tone as he flinches away.

"Quit flinchin', I'm just getting everythin' out of your eyes."

Couldn't possibly be more tender though. That couldn't be the word for it. He cursed as Tannusen stumbled, causing him to stumble as well, but he refused to drop the man, teetering and then continuing on.

"Fuss all ye like, as soon as ye can patch yourself up, that's the only time I'm lettin' ye off without makin' it a pain."

"Only time you're what?" So sue him, he was dazed by the whole situation. And deeply, deeply confused. What the fuck was going on?

"... So how hard did he hit yer face and what did he hit it with. A truck?"

They're almost there, and unlike last time the glyph to enter the house was quickly scrawled on the door. In you go, Tannu, quickly dropped in the nearest overstuffed chair.

"I told ye not to run your gob, I didn't say it for my benefit. Ye sound like a lobotomy patient."

"Someone tried to do that to me once--" Tannusen cut off with a wince at ending up in the chair. There was still glass in that back of his. And his legs. Not that he tried to get back up again, because fuck it. He let his eyes slide shut, somewhat hoping Cassian would just buzz off if he thought he was falling asleep.

Not that that was a great idea, either, if he'd bashed his head that hard.

"I'm not surprised, ye got a face fit for the grill of a Ford." He vanished for a moment, only to return again with something that definitely didn't smell like coffee.

It smelled... bitter actually. Sharp. A tea of some sort, but strong and herbal.

"It tastes like the underside of a surgeons table, but it does the job, drink every last drop of it. Should help with the pain and perhaps give a small bolster to whatever magic reserves ye have."

Always worked on Kani, when he could get the siren to choke it down.

"I'm gonna ask ye to be an adult here and listen when I say let me see your back."

That wasn't how Glamour worked, Cassian. Tannusen took the tea and stared down at it blankly, then up at Cassian. "Why would I want help with the pain? Did you miss the part where I did that on purpose?"

Still, whatever, he'd humor him. Tannusen downed the tea in one long pull, and then set the cup down. Happy?

"Not the worst thing I've swallowed today."

Yup, he was still making innuendos. He couldn't understand half of what the priest was doing or why -- he really didn't want to think of how warmly he did some of that stuff -- but he could still talk shit.

"I know ye did it on purpose. I don't care."

Good, down it went, and he snatched the cup away to set it back where it belonged. No he wasn't happy, today sucked, but he was moderately placated.

It would have to do.

"Did ye tell her to bathe first? That might be part of that issue."

CASSIAN.

"Your back, Tannusen."

"Oh for--" Tannu clawed at the arms of the chair until he got purchase with his annoying stupid stubby human fingers, and pulled himself forward to the edge of the seat. Had he already bled all over Cassian's upholstery? Why yes, yes he had. And dragging his legs against the chair made him see white sparks.

Glass was super, duper fucking sharp. People often underestimated how sharp it was. It wasn't that sharp in the movies and shit! But the back of his shirt was soaked, not that one could tell by sight. He wore a lot of black when he wasn't in his suits, okay, for a reason.

Leaning forward was easy enough, at least. Tannusen didn't even realize he was holding his breath until he almost blacked out. Shit.

"Thank ye." At the very least, he spoke with all the warmth and general affection of a porcupine with a migraine. No need to be too fuzzy here, he had already caught on that it wasn't Tannusen's favorite thing in the world.

There was a clink, the sound of a glass bottle being set down, and Cassian gently moving the shirt up and off the majority of the glass. No dragging it along or tugging it, he moved like he might have had practice doing this before.

"Ye need a stick to bite on or can I trust ye not to scream like a girl?"

He had tweezers with him too for the smaller pieces, and... really didn't give Tannusen much time to answer before he started working the first piece out.

"Most people like it when I--hh--scream."

Fuck. Well, that kind of dick move suited his comfort level best, it was true. Warmth and tenderness raised too many questions. Kindness wasn't to be trusted easily. He just shut his eyes and concentrated on breathing.

Under his shirt and all the blood was a lot more scarring than on his hands and arms. Whip marks, and not from silly kinky play in someone's basement. Burns. Stab wounds and claw marks and bullet holes. Unlike on his hands and arms, only most of it was smooth and pale. Some of it was raised and angry, only a few years old. It ran the whole range from there.

On his lower back, right where a tramp stamp might be, someone had distinctly carved TH. That one was really old... and hey, those could be his initials! Maybe he'd done it to himself.

He didn't ask. It was the least he could do. His body itself had it's own stories to tell, and he would just as soon rather not explain any of them.

Another shard of glass pulled free, set aside on a nearby side table.

"I can barely tolerate listenin' to ye talk."

The liquid in the bottle was applied to the wounds, and while there was a burn, it didn't sting like alcohol. Something else that smelled distinctly herbal.

"Any other wounds on ye I should know about? Break a rib fallin' out the window? Concussion?"