this cannot continue.

@caliginal

The paraSOL can’t be called fickle. It’s an unfeeling machine, subject to the whims of its creators. But the same cannot be said for them. Taking a break from her duties, Carmilla lingers a good distance away from the windows, should the force of the storm shatter them.

Such torrential rains and indiscriminate lightning strikes are a threat. The vampires’ collective rage, thick and oppressive, is powerful enough that even she with her state of emotional compromise is suffocated by it.

One of them must have fallen. Not he who bears the terennial of wind, she thinks sardonically, but it must have been someone formidable if they feel a need for a show of power like this.

The sound of the heavy front door slamming shut rips Carmilla from her thoughts. She’s already off to meet whoever is foolish enough to visit in such weather, as she knows of only one person who would even dare. Perhaps if he hadn’t been in such a sorry state, she might have been as close as she could be to excited.

“Lucian-”

He looks terrible. It’s hard not to after being out in such horrid rain. She rushes to him, quick to take his coat and making a note to herself to get him a towel.

“Traveling in these conditions… I’ll tell Professor Sheridan you’re here, do rest in the meantime. Are you alright?”

    The rain had easily soaked him to the bone- perhaps it wasn’t best to walk in this terrible thunderstorm, his whole body trembling in the cold. His muscles wouldn’t quite cooperate, twitching as he shivered rather violently. He had taken Aaron back to the guild himself, shielding the other with his coat even if he was vulnerable to the rain. That was his job, after all- being as young as he was, there was no doubt the gunslinger was much more weak to the cold than he was, especially with the way he was dressed.

    Still, Lucian had faced the consequences, hiking up to the isolated mansion in this kind of weather. His coordination had failed him, and the noise of the door closing behind him certainly didn’t help the piercing headache pounding away in his head.

    His vision swam- with how blurry everything was before him, with how the world seemed to tilt even as he stood still, perhaps it was simply a matter of recognition that he was able to get there at all. Allowing the drenched jacket to be taken from his shoulders, the swordsman quickly shivered, letting out a short breath- he no longer felt cold, nor hot, only this numbing sensation over his skin.

        “I know..I just, feel bad for making such a ruckus, I guess? Hmm..”

   Aaron folds their arms over the table before resting their head on them, staring at nothing in particular as they let out a hum. It’s at Lucian’s weak little smile that the young gunslinger gave a light pout.

        “Grown-ups are weird if they do that kinda thing for fun. What if you fall? That just hurts really bad. Adults are weird.”

    “ When people get to be my age, they get tired of life, so they want to have more adventures, dangerous or painful as they may be. “  It wasn’t a lie, no, just a softer version of the truth- perhaps it was the complete truth to some people. Not for him, of course, but that wasn’t the point he intended to make.

    “ Hey, ow! ”

    He jumped, wincing as his leg twitched at how tight the bandage was wound around it. He was definitely willing to limp around, but Alice certainly wasn’t willing to let him, and her irritation with him made that all the more apparent. Somehow, he felt a little guilty, but it was nothing new- she was never happy about his rather self-destructive habits.

    “ Hey, do you mind? I have shit to do, and it doesn’t help when you’re venting your sick sadist habits on me. “  Lucian had half a mind to apologize for taking up her time, but he couldn’t help but be irritated. He didn’t ask for this, anyways.

    “ It’s not that bad. I don’t know why you’re so worried. ”

    It was that bad, all things considering- the gash on his face was open wide, cut from his ear down to his chin, having soaked his entire front in blood. Some claw, or knife, or arrow, he was barely even sure- he wasn’t paying enough attention to quite remember what had happened. After all, it all blended together when you fought as often as he did.

    Lucian wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially not in this case- the rare gentle intimacy he got from Dumas was always a reward in of itself, what with how much the vampire seemed to find delight in messing with him. It was nothing more than irritating, yet he had a surprisingly solid tolerance for it all.

    With Dumas rather tired in these daylight hours, Lucian shouldn’t have been surprised with what seemed like rather benevolent affection. Still, he was- pleasantly so, however, and he had no intention of turning it away. The only problem was that this was the kitchen. Anyone could walk in and see every kiss the vampire gave him. That was what they had agreed on for the time being- it was staying between them, and them alone.

    Worries aside, he hadn’t the heart to push Dumas away, and it was a nice change of pace. So he simply leaned up to give him a little kiss on the cheek in return.

    “Hello there, Larson.”

♔ : Finding your muse wearing their clothes

♕: Holding hands

♖: Having their hair washed by your muse

♗: Your muse falling asleep with their head in my muse's lap.

♘: Cuddling in a blanket fort

♙: Sharing a bed

♚: Head scratches

♛: Sharing a dessert

♜: Shoulder rubs

♝: Reading a book together

♞: Caring for each other while ill (specify which party is which)

♟: Patching up a wound

♤: Taking a bath together

♧: Your muse playing with their hair

♡: Accidentally falling asleep together

♢: Forehead or cheek kisses

♠: Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc.

♣: Back scratches

♥: Your muse crying about something

  Oh, he got him there. Rather, it caught Sabata off-guard more than he’d have ever preferred and thus his expression went from suspicion right to confusion and wariness ( he opened his mouth to say something, but closed it a moment later ). It wasn’t until the motions of surrender were given that the Lunar Boy relaxed just in the slightest, gun no longer aimed at the other but still in hand.

     “I somehow woke up near this weird gate and I’m from the city of San Miguel.” His tone was calm and blunt until Lucian mentioned the word clone, certainly aggravating the Moon Beauty. “And my name’s Sabata, you shitty fake! If anything, this is all just another one of Vanargand’s shitty dreams, you’re probably not even real!”

    Well, that had come out because of nothing but pure impulse, making him act just as old as he seemed to be. Rather, he didn’t realize this until it was too late and became rather embarrassed about it ( crouching down on the ground before hiding his face in his hands ).

         “By Sol, I’m too tired for any of this..”

    “ Shitty fake? Ask anyone here who’s the fake and they’ll say it’s you. ”  San Miguel? That place was nothing but ruins, the crumbled memory of what once might’ve been a great city. That alone was enough to confuse him, but his expression remained sternly unhappy as ever until the mention of Vanargand. Almost on instinct, Lucian’s hand went back to the hilt of the aforementioned blade.

    “ Come on. Stand up. ”  He really didn’t have the time for this. Or the emotional energy, for that matter- but then again, neither did the other. Lucian supposed that might be one similarity they shared, aside from appearance.

    But then there was the trouble of Vanargand. The dark blade was his and his alone. The swordsman had never known it as anything more than a blade. It had been sleeping, sealed away, but that didn’t change the fact. It was rather odd, and made him a bit wary.

    Lucian was silent- anything he could even try to say was easily taken from him, feeling like he had been kicked in the chest, for lack of a better comparison- the wind pulled straight out of his lungs by those words. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to get close to someone again, he knew it would end up like this. It always ended up like this. It would always end up like this.

    Was whatever deity above punishing him? After all, he had committed his fair share of sins. Perhaps he deserved this. Yes, he deserved it, there was no way it wasn’t true. After all, these things happened for a reason. Perhaps the indescribable, burning, stabbing loathing in his chest was shared by all else he knew. Lucian was a fool for expecting anything else. For expecting something good to happen to him. For expecting love, and cherished memories, and forgiveness. He was always a fool.

    The swordsman had nothing to say. What was there to say in the first place? It was true, he had cut down a lifelong friend without mercy, without expected consequence. How many other deaths had been his fault? How many of the losses he claimed he didn’t care about were truly because of him?

    He loosened his grip on Vanargand, and allowed it to drop to the ground. Then he came down to his knees.

    “ Don’t you think I know that? “     He felt sick to his stomach just thinking about it. Chest tight and throat dry, he could do nothing but stare down at his hands, expression empty save for thinned lips. He knows damn well, he tells himself every morning and every night. Just thinking about her made him feel so cold. 

    Knowing she was so close, yet she was gone, and it was all his fault...he couldn’t bear it.

    “ I’d do anything to undo it and put myself in her place. If I hadn’t existed, or I hadn’t met her, or I just up and died, it would’ve been better than this. “  Voice thick, Lucian let out a breath, voice shaking- unstable. Such a horrible twist of fate had destroyed him more than he ever could have possibly imagined.

   Certainly, the poke at their nose made them give a little huff and ended up in having to rub their own nose a little ( too sensitive! ). But nonetheless, Aaron didn’t mind that either. The little chuckle didn’t go unnoticed, either –making Aaron feel even prouder of themself.

     “Only whenever they’re upset. I don’t know what to say to cheer people up, so I try it by doing things like this. It always works with Ernest and Bea!”

    “ I don’t blame them for laughing at that. It’s cute. “  He almost felt like a big brother. Or a dad. He didn’t know if that made him uncomfortable or proud, maybe a little embarrassed.

  Giving a little laugh at the pat on the head, Aaron stops their shenanigans for a bit to give Lucian a smile in return. It wasn’t a laugh they got out of him, but it was something good, at least! And that was exactly what the young gunslinger had been after.

             “I tried to make you laugh! Not because you were in a bad mood or anything,               I just wanted to try something! And look, it kinda worked!”

    Their strategy may not have entirely worked, but that didn’t mean Lucian didn’t appreciate it and find it quite sweet of them. with a little ruffle of their hair, he reached forwards and poked Aaron’s nose - barely letting out a soft ‘boop’ as he did so - and let out just a hint of a chuckle.

@caliginal

   Makes funny faces at him by squishing their own face in an attempt to get him to laugh. They’ve had this work with others so far, but if it would with Lucian was still a question begging to be answered.