[Off-Comm Threads]

[averagemedium]

(Just a catch-all post for any threads that need to be moved to off-comm logs, or started off-comm to begin with. May contain content over PG13, potential squick, etc.)

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[Bad Moon Rising event, day 327, apartment (closed)] potential mutilation squick

[averagemedium]

[Staying inside had been working out pretty well. No exposure to all of the craziness felt like it helped-- and maybe that's all he's needed. Maybe getting out really did fix it, maybe he'll stop jumping at shadows, maybe he's okay.

Not that any of that is on his mind right now. There's not much of anything crossing it, in fact.

He'd slipped out of consciousness while sewing on the couch, busy patching up a hole in one of his shirts, and while he's been completely out of it he hasn't stopped working. The trouble is it's not on the shirt. Red droplets stain the pale grey fabric, and the pain hasn't quite managed to snap him out of the fugue; he's still blankly stitching away, having sewn the bracelet to his wrist about three-quarters of the way around by now. Blood runs down the thread connected to the needle, stains his skin as well as the shirt draped across his lap, and he is-- for now-- fortunately unaware of any of it.]

[necrowmantic]

[Henry had been watching Ryan sew when he'd fallen asleep. He hadn't meant to, but it was a soothing, repetitive motion he could lose himself in, and it was the first time in weeks that he hadn't had the impulse to kill in the back of his mind. Maybe there was something to having a new place to live, new surroundings. Maybe it was the company.

So he's curled up and napping when Ryan starts stitching himself, and by the time he's finally shifting awake again-

Oh.

His first instinct is to just leave him alone. It was a reasonable thing to do, after all. He didn't want him to lose his bracelet. Henry would've done it himself if Ryan had let him.

But he shakes off the thought, even if he can't quite shake off his sleepiness, stumbling over to sit next to him, taking his wrists in either hand, trying to pull them apart.]

--hey. Stop that.

[averagemedium]

[For the moment, there's no real response. He's still blank (though not for much longer now, he's already been in this long enough to get close to finishing the circle round his wrist), but he doesn't resist much at all; he's vaguely trying to continue, but so long as Henry keeps hold of his wrists he's not returning to it.

He's also not letting go of the needle, though, and pulling his wrists apart just pulls the most recent stitch tight, a little more blood trickling in response. Ryan hardly even seems to notice.]

[necrowmantic]

[A tighter stitch is better than more of them, he figures, though now that he's there, Henry's more than a little distracted by all that blood. It was tempting to just let go- he'd gotten so far, after all, he might as well finish the job-

No. Ryan probably wouldn't like that, probably wouldn't even want to keep it attached after all that work, so Henry just keeps holding on.

He's not even capable of being alarmed himself, yet, too tired and detached- but even as he leans against him, eyes half-closed, his grip is firm.]

...c'mon Ryan. You don't really need to do that.

post-curse mornin'

[averagemedium]

[It doesn't occur to him when he first wakes that things feel normal again, that he feels them at all-- the first thought that comes to Ryan's mind is the recollection of Henry being constantly worried, anxious, which in turn worries him enough to start nudging him awake. It's a bit awkward, since he's reluctant to shift from where he's clinging to the body next to him, but he's trying.]

Henry? Henry, are you okay, are you still--

[And then, belatedly, he remembers why the worry had been there. What had happened to him, to both of them- and that sparks a near panic, voice pitching higher.]

Henry, wake up, is it-- it's gone, right? Tell me it's gone-

[necrowmantic]

[Even through the sleepiness, the first thing that strikes Henry is the odd sense of familiarity. Didn't something like this happen recently? Well, no matter-

Which does get his attention a little bit. Only just. A mild, but entirely satisfactory sense of relief follows.

So the first response is a slightly-muffled laugh, reluctantly blinking an eye open to focus hazily on Ryan.]

Huuuh... sure seems that way!

[averagemedium]

[Ryan's peering at him worriedly for a moment longer before he answers that with relieved laughter of his own, leaning in to kiss him hard. Everything's normal, nothing's going to be weird--

...and then he starts remembering some of the things he'd said to people and breaks away, horrified.]

Oh my god, Henry, how am I going to make this up to people.

[necrowmantic]

[The break of the kiss draws a short, disapproving noise; he'd almost thought that maybe Ryan had made it through okay, that he wouldn't immediately have to go back to worrying.

Henry pushes himself up, stifling a yawn.]

What's there to make up? Unless there's some bodies you were keeping to yourself, I don't think you killed a single person.

d365, early morning

[averagemedium]

((followup of http://asgardmeridiem.dreamwidth.org/358629.html?thread=61030885#cmt61030885))

He'd come right to bed after he finally dragged himself out of the bath, feeling-- if not better then at least calmer. Finding Henry there wasn't unexpected... but finding him borrowing his clothes sort of was. It's nothing he minded-- he definitely liked it, there was something comfortable and fond in the feeling that warmed Ryan as he curled up next to him, dragging a blanket along with him and nuzzling affectionately into place.

If he weren't so tired himself he'd have woken him, but that could wait until later. It's a while until he wakes again, clinging a bit more than he thinks he was when he came to bed; he's practically draped on Henry, using his chest as a pillow, and he doesn't bother to shift off as he nudges at him, murmuring a low, lazy-sounding "slept enough yet?"

[necrowmantic]

Being nudged is enough to wake him, if slowly, not at all surprised to find a Ryan attached to him. Not at all surprised with much of anything, and it's more than likely there was a bit of return clinging during the nap.

And the first response Ryan gets isn't quite words, but it is quite content-sounding, as Henry shifts an arm to awkwardly find his head, patting at his hair.

Eventually he makes something other than just sound, "...gueeeeess so."

[averagemedium]

There's a small, amused sound at that as he leans into the touch to his hair, and he presses a quick kiss to his jaw. "...let me know when you feel like getting up? Haven't eaten recently, we should do breakfast."

After a brief hesitation, he adds, "--and we probably need to talk, after that."

[necrowmantic]

"But it's warm here. You're warm." It's a little whiny, but mostly content, shifting a bit to try and get his arms around him.

"And we're talking now, it's nice to understand ya again." He unsuccessfully stifles a yawn, tries to bury it against Ryan instead. "But breakfast might be nice...."

[at some vague point before Shit Happens but after Christmasy things]

[averagemedium]

[Ryan's been doing his best to make the space they share a little homier, picking up small decorations here, making matching furniture covers, collecting more things for the kitchen and carefully labeling specimen jars for some of the things Henry's come home with-- and it's gone pretty well, so far. The walls have been less bare for a while now, the counters and shelves have gradually filled. In fact, they were running out of shelf space, and so he's attempting to put a couple more up in the bedroom.

...which is hard with a little white kitten climbing his legs, trying to get up there and climb on those shelves herself. Ryan's not getting much done while he's constantly stopping to detach her from his jeans, wincing each time as tiny claws leave pinprick marks in his skin. Still, it's a valiant effort, even if he's just given up with a sigh to scoop her up and pay the cat some attention in hopes that she'll leave him alone after.]

You've got to stop doing that, okay? You can't be on those, there's going to be stuff on them and you're going to knock it all down. Then where are you going to be?

[He gives her stomach a soft poke, grinning as she swats lightly at his hand. Talking to cats is just a thing that happens, he chats to Frisbee all the time- whether anyone's listening or not.]

Stuck, is where. Come on, behave, yeah?

[necrowmantic]

[Apart from providing some of the more morbid accessories, Henry was happy to leave both the concept and practice of decorating to Ryan. It wasn't something he would've thought of doing himself (collecting stuff sure, organizing it into something that wasn't horrifying for other people? Not so much.), but the result was always nice. Anything Ryan did was always nice, come to think of it.

Including the addition of a second cat to the household, and Henry's drawn in by the sound of conversation with her. It would never even occur to him that there was something odd about talking to cats. Who wouldn't?

But he pauses in the doorway for a moment, just watching them, before moving in to slip one arm around Ryan, the other reaching out to sneak in a few kitten pets.]

Aw, let her knock 'em over. Then there'll be more space, and I can walk on all those glass shards!

[This is a positive effect.]

[averagemedium]

[Ryan leans contentedly against him, nuzzling affectionately in- it's hard to hug with an armful of small cat, it'll have to do.]

And then I'd have to dig the glass out, and clean you up, and get your feet bandaged- nevermind picking up all the shards after. Or getting more jars. And then I'd have to keep you in bed until it was safe to walk on those feet again, you'd just get bored.

[The kitten squirms a little in his arms, shifting to stretch out there- and starting to knead at his sleeve. He sucks in a little hiss of a breath as her claws poke at him again.]

[necrowmantic]

You'd just have to help entertain me!

[Really, the description of the whole experience just made him want to start knocking jars over. Maybe he could teach the kitten when Ryan wasn't looking...

For now, though, he just leans into the nuzzles with a small laugh, though when he turns his attention to the kneading, he's working a finger underneath those tiny paws after a moment, barely feeling the pinprick of claws himself. The smile he gives the cat is aggressively friendly.]

Nope~ Not even you're allowed to hurt him.

Day 403

[necrowmantic]

[It's not unusual that Henry's in a good mood when he gets back home- it was his default mode of operation, really- but this time he had cause. His powers weren't working! They actually felt really weird, and wasn't that exciting? He'd spent the day experimenting with it, watching his shadow move without him willing it, shapes that twisted out to trip any passersby. He hadn't fed into it much, amusing himself mostly by seeing what it would do on its own, how his very surroundings would move and cut around him, darkness creeping around at the edges of his vision. Spooky!

And a little bit dangerous. Henry remembered what it had been like when his powers had been corrupted last, but this was- different. Before, he had to call something up for it to backfire, and the nagging in the back of his head had been one of paranoia, a murderousness more enthusiastic than normal. This- this felt different, something at his core was wrong in a different way, and that was almost exciting. It was like his soul was rotting, the unfriendly shadows the only outward sign of it. How cool was that?

But he comes home nonetheless, if just to check in. It would probably be bad if his shadows started chasing the cats, and as soon as he's inside, a bird rips its way into being, flapping laboriously into a shelf, sending it rattling. The poor thing didn't have much of a chance, with two heads. Henry's poking at it curiously with a foot even as he calls out to Ryan, a laugh in his voice as the creature half melts into the floor, dripping into the shadow of the shelf itself.]

Heeey, Ryan? You holed up somewhere?

[Whenever he walks, things keep moving. Sometimes even when he holds still. But just a little. Just a hint of things acting on their own accord, but there's the odd feeling that the darkness of the room was watching.

But that was okay, right?]

[averagemedium]

Stay out there!

[It's shaky, fearful- he definitely hasn't seen anything of what Henry's shadows are doing from where he's holed up in the second room of the apartment, though, it can't be directed at that. That fear's solely of what his own powers might do; he's already shut the cats safely away with food, water, and all of their things in the main bedroom to keep them away from him.

Something is horribly, horribly wrong.

People had moved away whenever he so much as thought about it on his way home, and it hadn't taken long to realize his control seemed to be acting on its own. He doesn't want to think about what might happen to Henry, to either of them, without the tight leash he usually keeps on that power.]

I don't want you to get hurt, just-- just don't come in.

[necrowmantic]

[The reply definitely startles him; it wasn't often that he heard Ryan like that, and the fear in his voice is enough to make him ignore the order. He would be fine, whatever Ryan's powers were doing, he could deal with it-

So he's over at the door to the second room without having to think about it, opening it and spotting him with no little relief. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but Ryan seemed intact. But Henry does hang about in the doorway- that was kind of like not coming in, right?]

There you are- geez, is your stuff acting up that much?

[Though now that he's there, his own shadow is creeping into the room of its own volition. Deformed and twisted, it's the shadow of someone dying, clawing at the floor to get away from him. The darkness in the room shudders.]

d436, canon update return

[averagemedium]

[This isn't right. He doesn't know the city he's suddenly shown up in--

Except it feels oddly familiar. He feels like he knows where the streets lead, that there's a particular direction he should be going, and after a few moments the memories start to filter back in. Asgard, it's Asgard, he's lived here before, known people here, has a home here.

A home and a husband. A quick glance at his hand shows no ring (it had been left with his other belongings when he disappeared) but he remembers the band, red gold and silver, and now that he knows it occurs to him that his hand feels a bit naked without it, now.

Ryan doesn't know how long it's been, but he remembers almost instinctively to check the bracelet, pull up Henry's name (wasn't the gem red, though? He's sure it was red) and, not quite daring to assume it's still the same Henry on the other end, sends a tentative question.]

What day is it?

[necrowmantic]

[To be honest, Henry was only intending to be there for a short while. But the cats needed to be checked on, that was important. They were important, for all that he more-or-less ignores the fuzzy bodies threading between his ankles, sniffing at the drops of blood left from the laundry he was carrying to be washed. Or to sit there unattended; it wasn't as if he expected to come back for it.

The hours when he'd first realized Ryan had disappeared were a complete blank. It might've been days; the blood on his skin had been dry and flaking by the time he noticed it, his clothing stiff and cold with it, the bodies he'd left having had time to go limp and rigid and limp again. The mage's thoughts had been distracted, calm, as he rearranged limbs of another native on another god's altar. Hel, was that last one. Appropriate, he guessed.

Henry would have been lying to say there was some purpose in it, even a retroactive one. He didn't expect to get a reply from a message left in corpses, and he wasn't sure what he'd say if a god had turned up.

But he was 'home' now, such as it was, settled tiredly on the couch, absently toying with the ring on his hand- the one he'd gotten Ryan, the one that hadn't disappeared with him. Henry wasn't sure if he regretted that Ryan hadn't taken it with him. It was a reminder; on the other hand, it was a reminder.

At the message beep, he almost ignores it; he'd leave a note for Gerome, there was no one else he wanted to speak to. He'd find his wolf, wait out the war somewhere away from people. It was a sick sort of hope that made him check the message anyway- and even then, he almost misses the name. If it wasn't Ryan, he didn't want to know. But why would anyone write to ask him what day it was?

He blanks out again when he does see it, answering the message on automatic. Not that he knows what day it is either, and not that he gives an actual answer instead of just a spasm of fingers against numbers.]

145684865

[Followed by, a minute later:]

Is it actually you?

[averagemedium]

It's me, I don't

I... think I was gone for a while. It was a while back home, anyway, I don't know how long it's been here-- is everyone else still here? Do you live in the same place, do you have the cats

do you have my ring?

[His fingers shake slightly while he types, already heading through the streets for their apartment out of pure habit. The lingering damage doesn't go unnoticed, but for all he knows another battle's happened, it's not necessarily the same damage (much as he hopes it is.)]

probably gonna get nsfw

[averagemedium]

[Ryan's been denying himself since he arrived back in Asgard, and he's finally hit a point where he just can't do it anymore. It's been too long, he misses the intimacy far too much, and the reasons he's held back have just felt less important the more he readjusts to his life in the city. The memories of being more careful and gentle are still faded by those few years at home, his inexperience after that period without any practice won't ever get fixed if he continues to abstain... and the longer he goes without, the more nights he lies there with Henry in his arms and doesn't touch him the way he wants to, the more often he finds himself thinking about it.

This is exactly one of those times. Ryan's found his thoughts straying most of the day, and when he finally leaves the Highwind and fires a quick message off to make sure Henry's at home he makes the trip to the apartment with more purpose than usual.

The closing of the door is usually followed by several moments where he lingers, toeing off his shoes, just appreciating being home-- but this time his shoes are kicked off haphazardly, his overshirt shrugged off along the way as he immediately seeks Henry out. There aren't any words as he nudges his partner up against the nearest convenient surface and kisses him hard, his hands quickly finding their way beneath Henry's shirt.]

[necrowmantic]

[Henry had noticed that small distance between them since Ryan had returned to the city. Not in affection or closeness, and he had no reason to doubt that he was still loved, or that Ryan was hiding a second ghost boyfriend back at home. It didn't seem anything like that, and as long as he could curl up with him, Henry was initially content.

So he hadn't thought much about the lack of sex at first, primarily relieved to have Ryan back in one piece, with his memories in place. They'd both had to reorient themselves, 'catch up' to the present day- but things were more-or-less settled, and the lack of that bit of intimacy was getting more noticeable. Something or other was holding Ryan back, and though Henry usually had no issue initiating something himself- he'd waited, even as he wasn't entirely sure what he was waiting for. And without knowing, it was probably no surprise that he didn't get anywhere. And patient as he was, he couldn't help but miss it.

But when he got the message asking if he was at home, Henry didn't think much of it, going to meet Ryan near the door once he heard him arrive. Not getting the chance to move far, a small sound of startle is muffled by the other's lips, his back pressed to the wall, feeling hands against his skin with a lot more intent than there'd been in... a while. He couldn't remember, and then there were more important things focus on.

It doesn't take thought to respond eagerly to the kiss, more than a note of desperation in it as he forces his way into Ryan's mouth. His hands slide immediately to the other's hips, dragging them against his body, helping to keep himself trapped against the wall.]

[averagemedium]

[There's just as much desperation in the way Ryan presses close against his body, a groan of relief slipping out unnoticed at the contact. Between the thoughts he'd occupied himself with on the way home and the promise of imminent relief, the eagerness Henry kisses him with-- it takes no time at all to encourage more of a physical response, and the slow, firm grind of his hips against his partner seems almost intended to make Henry notice that he's already mostly hard.

It's only half intentional, in all honesty. The rest is just because Ryan wants him too much to keep still, wants this to be like he remembers it before his last death-- possessive, demanding, needy. One hand rakes red scratches down Henry's back, but the other latches on to one of the hands clinging to his hips, tugging it away and upward to rest at his own neck. He guides Henry's fingertips in a small trace along the skin, hoping he'll understand the request without having to break the kiss to tell him; there are parts of that possessiveness he misses more than others, and fabric just isn't a substitute for shadows.]