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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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"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?"

He really wanted to say no.

"Stop asking me questions, then." Honestly.

That was as good as a no, right? Right.

It'd be pretty obvious by the cuts in Cassian's nice comfy chair that Tannu's legs had sprouted some new sharp bullshit just like his back had.

"What old-timey shit are you pouring on me?"

"I need to know where all the glass ye so kindly implanted in your spine is. If ye don't want to help, I'll knock ye cross the head and find it meself."

A hollow threat, and the both of them would know it.

He could see the cuts in his chair though. No need to guess.

"Cocaine and morphine." Okay no that was a lie.

"Calendula officinalis. For infection, good first aid herb. A little tea tree too. It's amazin' what some people will call healin' magic."

Old timey witch.

"And won't ye just smell so pretty later too."

"Oh Cassian, you don't have to knock me out to strip me," Tannusen somehow managed to purr in between glass-plucks.

He rolled his eyes at the comment about how he'd smell after this.

"Marigold juice. Charming. Yeah, well, your chair's soaked in crazy blood. Good job."

Edited 2017-01-01 16:32 (UTC)

"I'm aware of that, I think ye've made it clear before, Tannusen." Another shard yanked free, maybe a little harsher than it needed to be.

"Nothin' some club soda and hydrogen peroxide can't get out, I've been shot sittin' in that chair so it's not like the blood could get that much crazier."

Tannu just grunted something incomprehensible and started to slump right off the chair. He'd just take a lay on the floor. Honestly, he wasn't sure why Cassian hasn't just dumped him there to begin with.

Or, you know, in the front yard.

Or... you know, just left him where he'd been.

That means he wins, and it's a good thing Tannu has his back to him because that shit eating smile might actually have earned him a punch.

He finishes his work without further comment, before going to ease him off the chair, and attempt to coax him into laying on his stomach on the floor.

Needs to get the glass out of those legs too.

Tannu seems fine with this plan, and literally just lays face-down on the floor. He's a lump now. This is where he plans to stay until he either gets the energy to go or gets tossed out or whatever.

The tiger hasn't even flinched at any of the glass removal, not like he did at having his face wiped.

And so the rest of it goes as well, plinked into a neat, bloody little pile until he's sure all the glass has been removed, and carefully cleaned up with the "marigold juice".

Once finished...

Tannu has a heavy comforter dropped on him. On the floor.

"Ye know where the guest bed is if ye want it. I'm lockin' me door though, no bloody cats on my bed."

"Ha, ha, bloody," Tannusen says down into the floor. If it wasn't a pun before, it is now. Geezer.

"Yes, yes you're the pinnacle of humor. Go to bed for pities sake, and don't wake me up. Tis been a very strange and very hard day for me and I don't want to deal with your stupid shenanigans all night."

Tannusen just reaches up to pull the edge of the comforter over his head. There. See. He's in bed. A bunch of bloodied platinum blond hair is all that sticks out from under the blanket, forming whorls and spirals despite being a sticky mess.

"... And take a shower at some point too, or someone will have to shave ye to be done with the matting."

And with that pleasant remark, he heads up and goes for his bed.

Goodnight, lump.

Tannusen's only parting answer is a disgusted noise. If Cassian comes near him with a knife it'd better be for a fight.

...Aaaaand he's still there in the morning. He hasn't moved, except to pull his hair under the blanket with him and away from any sneaky white-haired jerks with scissors.

Oh good heavens. When he comes downstairs in the morning, there's a brief moment of surprise. He's... almost touched.

... Then he noticed that Tannusen had pulled his hair under the blankets.

Enjoy waking up to Cassian starting to laugh himself sick.

"Ye actually thought I'd shave it off?"

"Been bald before," Tannu mutters into the floor, "I look like Mr. Clean."

What pooka doesn't make themselves the butt of a joke now and then, anyway?