the ichor that resides in me

it seems he’s crossed a line in the dirt, and leon makes a note of it. arrogance might be an inescapable part of his being, but he knows when it’ll benefit him and when it won’t. so leon raises his brows and raises both hands, palms facing the other, in an act of temporary defeat. “i’m sure i don’t,” he assures, voice syrupy sweet, but he’s also sure that yennefer will learn to find him very useful.

leon grins from ear to ear, eyes curiously looking over the other. “oh, absolutely. if you have a critique on my performance, i’m all ears, darlin’.” this time, he steps over the line on purpose, feeling out where he is welcome and where he still needs to put in more work in charming this group of wild beasts. but specifically, the beautiful creature in front of him.

the longer he spends in rak’s company, the more leon finds to like about them. they don’t even bat an eyelash as he steps closer, and leon finds himself imagining that confidence in the face of real threats. what will you do to keep living? he wonders. what have you done to have this life? “rakesh,” he repeats, and the name tastes unlike anything he’s ever experienced on his tongue. addictive. “lucky me,” he says with a grin, “that all depends on whether or not you want to watch me get cleaned up,” his grin becomes toothy, a small laugh escaping him, “i’m not against putting on another show.”

x

a part of rak is unwilling to admit, but leon is hitting all the right notes so far. there's an arrogance to the way he holds himself, but he also seems agreeable enough to recognise the lines rak is drawing. there's a chance that hubris will eventually fill his mouth up until he chokes on it, that this act will be grating more than it is enticing, but for now, the grizzly sinks their teeth onto the bait.

"you were a bit messy." it's another lie, a well-practiced sort of snobbery that drips from their tongue, as he holds onto the illusion that they still have the upper hand in this conversation. leon was pretty impeccable with his fighting, tearing apart clickers with impressive ease, but he didn't need all of that air going up to his head so soon. "sloppy. i could tell you were struggling." 

from what he knows of the grizzlies, they thrive on a good show. and it’s what he gives them. “let me have a knife, and i’ll kill all five of them,” he says nodding at the rabid runners locked in a tight cage. yennefer accepts, and leon steps into the cage, unbothered when the door locks behind him. he has no issue with getting dirty to prove himself.

they’re all released at once, and leon’s quick to jump up onto a crate, why it’s there, he isn’t sure, it’s hardily cover. perhaps yennefer thought it needed a little more flare. the two that reach him first scramble to get up onto the crate, giving him time to land a deadly kick under one’s jaw, hearing something snap as the body flies back and hits the ground. it’s not dead, but the spine is broken, and all that moves is its hungry jaw. the second scrambles up and leon meets it with a knife under the chin as the last three swarm the crate. the body in his grip falls limp, and he throws it at the infected, knocking one down, giving him the opportunity to jump off.

the impact if felt in his knees, breaking his focus for a moment, and when one lunges at him, he almost doesn’t dodge in time. but it lunges with all its might, so when the runner flies past his ear, it crashes into the cage wall behind him. the next moves predictably, like they all do, and leon manages to counter how it swipes infected nails, ducking behind and restraining the screeching thing as the one who crashed into the wall charges again. the third, still luckily pinned down by the body leon threw at it, is briefly glanced at before the second lunges again. but leon can see where it’s headed, and uses the body he’s grappling to catch the bite meant for him. with the second runner’s jaw embedded in the first, leon takes the opportunity to stick his knife through the eye of the one biting down. wiggling it enough to ruin the organ inside. leon pulls the blade out, sticking it straight into the temple of the first. the two bodies drop and with a laboured breath, he faces the last one as it finally scrambled out from the body weighing it down.

he plays with it, like a cat does with its dinner. dodging again, and again, and again. each time, getting a slash in. leg tendons, major arteries. until it can no long run, and it’s just an oozing thing pulling itself across the dirt for a taste of him. leon stops moving, and waits for it. when it’s within reach, he aims another powerful kick, snapping it’s neck. there’s cheers over the load roaring blood in his ears, and he doesn’t look to the exit until the one still snapping it’s jaws has its skull crushed under his boot.

when he looks to yennefer, they are laughing.

but who he’s most interested in, is the one who meets him outside the cage. rak, yennefer said. leon grins as he gets close enough for rak to smell the infected blood. “you think?” he asks casually, “yennefer looked like he was having a good time.” he knows people like rak, guarded and distrusting, demanding you be worthy of their time. leon likes people like rak. his eyes take over the other as he wipes his bloody hands on his shirt. so you wanna play games? we can play games. “leon,” he corrects with a smile, “how many times have you been in the cage, rak?” leon takes a step closer, ever so slightly tilting his head, “is that short for something, by the way? or is it just rak?”

x

at the comment about yen, rak raises one skeptical eyebrow, mouth filling with venom that drips from his tone when he speaks again. "yeah? well, you don't know yennefer like i do, do you?" it's a warning, don't go thinking you're hot shit too soon. it's protectiveness that makes his voice come out like a snarl; a rookie referring to yen in any capacity would already be eye-roll worthy, but a rookie thinking they can assume how yen feels? that's something sure to get rak hissing like a feral cat. yen did in fact like this guy enough to give him a chance, and the show he put on might've been one of the best any of the grizzlies have seen in the cage, but that doesn't mean he gets to waltz around putting words in yen's mouth. rak will be damned if they don't make sure everyone respects their leader the way he should be respected. they might even appreciate this man's confidence and how he holds himself, but they draw the line at people who think they can get too friendly too fast with their ride or die.

leon. so that's the name. see, rak was sure it was something more fun than a lacklustre luke, but they hadn't been paying much attention before his whole cage moment. they squint again, this time as a cover for the amusement that shines in their eyes, mood easily restored back to something more peaceful as soon as yen's name is no longer concerned. he pretends there are no sinful thoughts in his head when he hears leon say their name for the first time -- like they do this all the time, like they've known each other for a lifetime. it is eerily familiar and entirely new at the same time. "more times than you. why? you want tips?" truthfully rak has not been in the cage more than a handful of times at best, because it's simply not their style, but they're nothing if not a good teller of half-truths.

leon steps closer -- and if that's an attempt at intimidation he must have a death wish --, and rak stands his ground, chin tilted up in response. their throat exposed like it's a dare, gaze still trained on leon's eyes through their own, now half-lidded, eyes. "rakesh." they say after a pause, as if they were considering whether or not the man was worthy of the response. "i'm in charge of showing you around, leon," they test the name on their tongue, drawl it out pointedly. "would you like to clean up or see your room first?"

rakesh used to flinch when he watched the fights. not that he really remembers it, but they were once a young little thing, someone that winced and hissed with every blood splatter coming from the cage. now, this ritual feels like communion. they stand near the cage, close enough to smell the ichor and the grit, but just far enough that the coat of old, matted down fur doesn't get newer bloodstains on it. he chews on the side of his nails, teeth picking at skin, destroying flesh out of boredom as their eyes watch the fight unfold.

this one is different. rak finds his eyes trained on the man inside the cage -- someone close enough could've told them their pupils were wider than normal, but it would be a foolish decision to approach when he was this focused. the thing that fascinates them is that they haven't given this man much thought before this. the newcomer's name is something starting with an L, rak is almost sure; he didn't bother committing it to memory, sure as he was that this man would be just someone else they could watch get torn apart in the cage, nothing more. but now-- oh, now. now he is covered in sweat, and infected gunk, and he's ramming his knuckles into a clicker's skin before pulling its spore-y skull apart with bare hands and it is... well. rak didn't know that watching the cage fight could get them to squirm in their own seat.

they are the first to offer taking care of the newcomer, when it's pretty obvious yen is willing to give him a chance after surviving the cage. he keeps the thinly-veiled second intentions far from his voice, but yen still gives him a disapproving look before he allows it.