cry wolf

Yeah, so here’s Basil on the couch. Nose scrunched, hugging his cup like a lifeline as he tries to imagine Quinn having to bite into an eyeball. Never mind the werewolf bit, that’ll hit him later— instead, he’s just picturing something akin to an apocalyptic version of fear factor. Quinn holding up an eyeball alone, and having to crunch it like a grape because of unknown reasons. 

But then reality sets in and the scene shifts and he can imagine Quinn hunting or in a fight. Getting hurt. — Then he’s frowning for an entirely different reason. 

Necessity or not, he can’t help but… worry?? About the other. The scene he’d painted was something of the past, but that doesn’t make it go over any better in the changeling’s mind. He doesn’t like the idea of Quinn getting hurt. He likes him happy and smiling and holding his potato sack of a dog. Safe.

But then– his eyes cast down for a second. That’s an issue in and of itself. Quinn isn’t his husband. They aren’t wearing rings. And to be quite honest, this whole ‘relationship’ between them is very, very new — he doesn’t really have the right to concern himself like that. Not yet. Not when they’re still basically strangers. 

So he pushes the thought aside. And makes it a concern for a later time. 

Instead he moves on, thinking over the idea of personal spaces. “ So where do you draw the line with the whole ‘ mine ‘ thing? “ He asked, curious as to how that worked with werewolves. “ Fae steal things. I don’t think that they have a great grasp on ‘mine’ and ‘yours’ either.. — Not that I would ever. It’s just something I noticed while being around them. Babies, shiney things, it’s a never ending list. “ And an odd one at that. “ Huh. Good to know. I always assumed there was such a thing as bad coffee. “ But to be fair, all coffee was bad coffee to Baz. 

“ Depends on the changeling. Some are weird and have extra fingers or toes. – And before you ask, I don’t. Sorry to ruin the excitement. Some are really smart. Like, to the point it’s scary. “ He counters, amusement in his voice. Of course he’d never encountered these changelings himself- but the faeries told him about them, so surely it’s true. “ Some have bad vibes. Or become human. – But I still think you have me beat on story time. “ Unless he liked stories about stolen children and shiney things and bonding with the forest. Pretty objects and faerie mushroom rings that may or may not be a myth. 

He smiles, “ Actually Rome is kind of, like, part of Italy? So you’re already there. Surprise. “ Still. He was pretty much right. Basil’s home town was long gone, burned to the ground and torn to bits. Completely unrecognizable. Not that he’d ever want to go back again. “ But, you’re correct regardless. No need to be sorry, it wasn’t so great there anyway. I felt long before it fell. “ 

But it wasn’t something that kept him up anymore. 

He went from smiling, proud of himself for getting a chuckle out of Quinn to simply horrified. He hoped it hadn’t come off as an insult or just as incredibly naive to assume that he could see color. “ I’m so—- “ He cut himself off, just as Quinn admitted to the deceit. 

 “ You scared me !! “ He whined, trying hard not to laugh simply from the relief of it all. “ I honestly thought ‘ oh no, how insensitive. ‘ “ He playfully rolled his eyes. Of course he’d fallen for it. Of course he had. 

“ … It did used to be a nicer color. “ Basil replied, trying to think back to a day where the sky was more blue. More vibrant and less dull. “ – That’s a good guess, but yellow’s my favorite. For a similar reason to yours, I suppose. Sunny days and everything that comes with it. “ Yellow sunshine, yellow daisies, and even yellow weed flowers. Lemonade from his childhood and fat, fluffy bumblebees that flew across the garden. It was a happy color.

The next question though. It came just as easy. “ Favorite food. Or meal.  Whichever. “ 

Quinn would have been quite entertained by the idea playing out in Basil's skull if he would have known, how wonderfully dramatic and right out of an end of the world epic; no reason for things to be dull, eh? But he let him catch up, get the gears turning and sort out the less fascinating reality of things, never half as much fun, sadly. More scrapes and bruises, long days and unforgiving nights but even that, in some strange way, had always felt like the height of living to him. It was just the continuing to live part that had forced his hand in leaving it behind, not nearly so much the struggle.

He could tell there were tumbling thoughts running like a rabbit through Basil's head, rapid as the twist in his expression and the thin line of his lips. Overthinking never did much to change the past but he let it settle, unsaid, and left him to juggle whatever was going on inside his skull.

"Fae steal things," he repeated, as though the words were some new and highly satisfying discovery. They, in fact, were. "That's the most amusing thing I've found out about them so far." Stealing just for the sake of something catching interest? That sounded far more interesting than necessity, more personality in motives that were personal. "Personally, I'd draw the line at babies because nobody needs a hoard of those, but I guess it depends on if someone wants a hoard of small screaming creatures." Far too much work in his opinion, keeping up with very small living things with dependence on someone else to survive.

His dogs, naturally, didn't count.

"No extra body parts, no abnormal intellect, okay." Quinn nodded, it was starting to become a list of things Basil wasn't rather than what he was, something telling in itself. "I don't know about that, I think you just need the right angle with it. Most stories are only interesting anyway if they're exaggerated. Or creative view of the truth," he could hardly imagine the harm in creative approach to the truth. "Which isn't the same thing as a lie, exactly." Just to clarify the logic on it.

Yes, Rome was part of Italy and Italy was part of the world, and Quinn tipped his eyes upward an instant at the entire matter. "Yes, but this is as far as I've gotten to it, and it is practically its' own little world here." It counted either way, he supposed, down to technicalities and the like. "Not much chance of getting to the rest of the world for a while anyway, unfortunately."

Perhaps it was something of a slight, that humor, but he didn't mean any harm by it; the reaction was what he was curious about. And, no surprise, Basil didn't disappoint him with it. "Insensitive. You really are a strange one." He mused, finding to more of a positive, he wasn't sure sensitivities had much place in the world for most people. "I'm not exactly easy to ruffle, so you don't have to worry that much about it; if you say something that irritates me I'll just tell you off about it and move on."

Frankly, it was easier just to be honest, get over it and not bother with the nonsense. The trick was going to be knowing how well Basil would tolerate it in return; but a few arguments never hurt anybody really. Sometimes they were more interesting than bland conversation.

"I don't really care," Quinn knew it wasn't an answer but at the same time it was, indifference was still a preference. "I've eaten some strange things, generally just eating is good with me."

He didn't have the flowers and sunshine that Basil still carried in his eyes, no bumblebees and gardens, but the differences didn't trouble him. Content to leave such things to the other man, leave to his happy memories, because he had his own even if they didn't run the same vein. Basil just wore his in his comments, on his sleeve, word by word that he offered up, painting a picture of himself in those sunlight hues.

"The sad fact that I can't live off coffee is an endless struggle though; it's downright offensive that life requires more than that." Quinn tapped his fingers back against the cup, it was the small indulgences in life, really, that made it better.

“ First a puppy, now a kitten. “ Basil toyed, amused by the idea of getting called a second baby animal. “ — Though I’m not sure if that’s an upgrade or a downgrade. But you’re right, very vicious. “ Actually, the changeling was more startled by dogs than cats- but that was a discussion for another day. If the wolf boy said cats were vicious, then surely they must be. 

There was a pause. Then a quick glance over. “ I - hold on. “ He began, “ Are you telling me you’ve tasted an eyeball. Like- a real one. “ Animal or otherwise, it made very little difference in his mind. An eyeball was an eyeball and— Basil tried to imagine putting one in his mouth only to have it pop. Quickly his nose scrunched up. “ blah. no. “ 

He crossed his legs under him on the couch once he saw Quinn giving in and heading over. “ I mean– you don’t have to sit if you’re not comfortable. I just didn’t think the doorway was comfortable either. “  — Jar in his hands, and cup balanced in his lap, he pretended not to notice how out of place the other seemed. “ If you don’t like it, I can make you something else. “ He offered, gaze flicking with mild concern between the boy and the mug. “ It takes better with honey– I didn’t know if you liked things sweet? Since you drink your coffee black? “ 

He drizzled some honey into his mug, careful not to make a mess as Quinn answered his question. — He had a point. The world before the mess would have been a much better one for adventuring around. “ Not really a list– I never got far from Italy, so anywhere else would have been an adventure. “ Maybe not a good one, but it would have been nice to maybe see the world. Even if it was a shit show. – He had multiple opprotunities while on the run, but something in his gut kept him somewhat close to home. “ And an equally important question, “ Basil continued, with a childish expression. “ Your favorite color. “ 

"I don't know either, different variant of vicious I guess." True, he'd not even seen too many felines but the ones he had were the rangy, scruff and hiss sort who ghosted around empty streets and ruined buildings. Kittens were generally more fluff and puff with indignant moments, which thus far had fit his personal view of Basil on whatever what might have passed for a bad mood for him. It made him a little curious to know what the line was, but he didn't want to push it when they were just starting to figure each other out.

"Not entirely on purpose, it's not like that's a part of anything you plan to eat." He reasoned, if there was much logical reason to the conversation from a typical standpoint. "But it happens, teeth, things get in the way in a fight, hunting, all of that. I wouldn't recommend it but, you know, necessity."

Clearly there was a disconnect between Basil and the idea of werewolf but Quinn decided to give it some time, culture shock perhaps. He had things to learn too. "So there's no weird or socially unacceptable norms for Changelings? Well, that's going to take all the fun out of storytime, isn't it?" He added with a hint of mock woeful tone, all those Grimm's tales had led him astray.

"Nah, it's fine. Personal spaces are strange at first, they belong to someone. It's something you have to get used to." Quinn tried to find a comparison that was simple, just to bridge the gap. "The sense of 'mine' is a thing, it's always a thing." Sometimes that was a complicated overlap; especially when it came to people. "If it doesn't actually stick your teeth together or peel the inside of your mouth then I think it still counts as coffee, and there's no such thing as bad coffee," he added with all the conviction of someone who lived with caffeine burning in their veins.

"Italy, huh? Never been there, guessing if you're here in this wonderful experiment in social homicide the place didn't hold up too well either." But what had? The world was a dying animal too stubborn to drop. "Sorry about that though, losing home isn't fair to anybody."

Quinn found himself chuckling again, finally lifting the cup to his lips and watching Basil's expression; in a less harsh world the boy would have been pure sunshine. "Don't you know wolves are colorblind?"

He waited it out to see how long Basil would take the bait, mull over, see if he could tell he was messing with him. Finally he laughed and dropped his shoulders in a shrug. " Okay, that's a lie. I don't know, blue? I miss the sky being that color instead of grey." He couldn't help but wonder how important the simplistic things were to Basil, interesting information to file away. "Let me guess, green?"

Not having a set date for their wedding now seemed to be both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, they could take their time and be around each other organically without it feeling overly forced and uncomfortable. But on the other hand, also not knowing and taking their time as though their alarm clocks weren’t going to chime any minuet- I guess a lot depends on if we’re still strangers or not when the time comes. Right. So, who was to say where they’d be when the hammer finally dropped on them?

— This is exactly why he spent his time buying plants and reorganizing the apartment. He didn’t have to pre-worry about all of this. He didn’t like not knowing when things were going to turn south.

But that was probably also part of Basil’s issue. Automatically assuming that all things in his life would go sour at some point. – It was something he was trying to work on, in the event that he couldn’t just avoid every emotional and physical risk that was thrown his way. He’d have to deal with the ‘what if’ feeling sooner or later. – apparently sooner. 

It was tempting to give Quinn the classic ‘everybody makes mistakes’ line- but he didn’t. He resisted the cliche urge. Instead he nodded a bit, brushed his fingers through his hair. “ I appreciate you telling me that. “ He replied, not pushing for details. “ – Healthy or not. I have your back if you need me. “ 

Because that’s what friends did. And even if they weren’t friends yet, Basil wanted to be in the future. At least, friends. After all, they’d made it this far. 

But, yes. Back to happy and strange topics like Basil’s jello cactus. – “ Alright, alright- back to think-free topics. “ He replied, a smirk turning up as Quinn read his mind. Calling himself out on bringing it up in the first place. Not that he minded the topic. Not really. It was something they’d have to talk about eventually anyway. Might as well talk about it and get it out of the way and worried about earlier than later. 

“ Eyes are more squishy? “ Basil called back incredulously as he poured hot water into matching mugs and dropped in the tea bags. “ I mean- I’ve only seen the ones in peoples heads, but like- olives are kinda like eyes! It’s totally a thing. That’s why people use them as eyes for creepy stuff on All Saints’ Eve.  “ 

He balanced a jar of honey and both mugs in his arms to return to Quinn- only to find him still standing in the same spot he’d left him in minuets ago. With a little tsk, Basil went into mom mode. He handed the other the cup that he hadn’t even asked for ( mostly just to get it out his hands and out of risk of dropping it ) and went over to the couch- patting the spot beside him as hint to make himself comfy. “ You have a clean slate with me, you know. It goes back to the ’ big and scary wolf’ discussion- if you didn’t tell me, I’d assume the best. “ He replied, “ balancing his mug in his lap as he popped open the honey,  “ — Not that I want the best. I want you to be you- eyeballs, corpses and all. “

A pause, nose scrunching as he realized how morbid it sounded coming from him. “ – Okay. None death topic. — If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? “ That’s right. When it doubt, impromptu random 20 question game. The next questions would probably be something along the lines of favorite food and favorite color, but hey !! They were good questions. Important info yup yup. 

Quinn, quite the opposite, thrived on chaos and the necessity of weaseling his way around complicated situations. To say he was laid back though was untrue, he didn't find chaos interesting for the possibility of running with it, he liked a fight from life. He liked to snap and growl, dig his claws in and dare something as ridiculous as fate to think it got to make his choices; normality was a bane he could not stomach. Perhaps that was part of the reason he was lingering, pacing the edges of the what ifs with Basil, an unpredictable outcome was better than resigning to acceptance that his life was going to dissolve into bland madness that went on day after day.

He was certain Basil himself wasn't braced for the sort of scatter-storm life he enjoyed, but maybe he would be surprised by the other man. Tamed down, no, but there was always some tiny spot buried deep in even the most reckless person that envied the comfort of belonging when it was something they so stubbornly denied themselves.

Oh yes, Basil was a real terror. What he didn't realize, and Quinn had no intention of being honest about it until he was cornered, was that aggression wasn't the asset that was useful. Soft manner and unassuming guise was a cover most couldn't manage and in Basil it was honest, it was what he wore on his skin, a saving grace. Or at least enough of one to save both their skins so long as he could play up the innocent bystander idea about Basil if his old friends came sniffing around. Quinn wasn't sure how rare it was anymore, actually being a good person, but if it wasn't an act, well, he respected Basil more for not going to hell along with the world.

"I'm sure you're as fierce as an angry kitten," he laughed softly, "I wouldn't take that badly though, cats are pretty vicious." Who knew, he wouldn't discount Basil yet on that, it was another wait and see situation. But if not, well, wasn't that just going to play games with his own possessive instincts. Wonderful. Best to get those locked down before they started testing waters and making a fool of him.

"They pop too, and are filled with fluid. I fail to see the olive similarities other than how gross olives taste and the saltiness in common." Once he had said the words became one if those statements he half wanted to retract but, yes, since he couldn't he simply added to it, "Animals. I'm not claiming I know but I assume all eyeballs are made the same." He certainly hadn't been one for finding out, chewing on humans or the like had never posed much appeal to him, desperate or not.

When that cup was handed to him at first he was hesitant, some scents could be nauseating and teas often captured them perfectly in their mix of herbs. After a moment of only the heady fragrance lapping at his senses he relaxed a bit, nothing stirred up more than a vague interest in the liquid when he glanced down at it. Safe enough, apparently. Sharp senses were not always only a positive. Moving, however, was a different beast to tame. He didn't want to launch into an explanation of personal spaces being different than public ones, of territory being an issue, or that being the reason he had mostly confined Basil to one section of his own home during their previous conversation. The tangled up lines between instincts and humanity were at times even confusing to him.

Quinn was just as restless sitting down when he finally did, the picture of mild guard in his shoulders and the notches of his spine, the curl of hands curled around the cup and paint-chipped nails turned inward against it. There were far too many versions of himself Quinn had cultivated and crafted over time, it wasn't as simple as knowing which one he actually was anymore. But, he tried to be somewhat honest about it, as much as he even knew how.

"There's nowhere left to go," the realist in him had to lift its' head and he loathed when it happened. "Maybe the world before it all went to hell though, there's nowhere I wouldn't have gone. Everywhere has to have something worth seeing."  He wasn't sure he wanted to take that road but waited to see how deep those questions would delve first, curiosity was always a bane of his. "I take it you have a list? People don't ask unless they've already picked out places themselves. Where in this wide world has you feeling all wanderlust-riddled and hungry, hmn?"

— Luna nodded. She may have spent the first half of her life causing more death and destruction to humans, but she’d spent plenty of time in her more recent years protecting them. She shrugged, “People don’t like things that are different from them. They’re wary of us because we’re different, other, and so many of the supernaturals have a bit of a violent reputation. All I was every really afraid of was being caught. Now, though, I don’t think I have much to worry about unless I come across one who somehow manages to get a stake in me faster than I can get away,” she chuckled. “Although, they’re certainly just as capable at causing violence and destruction as the rest of us.” 

   “I suppose we’ll have to protect each other until someone finds a way to reverse it,” Luna sighed. She was sure that throughout the years, both of her spouses were likely to have at least a few enemies. She couldn’t imagine living this long and not. Luna had her own share, although she doubted they’d go after Rosalie or Rowan. No need to piss off the Seelie royalty by killing their eldest, and she’d always found dragons to be rather terrifying, although they also fascinated her. If she hadn’t been so anxious about everything, she might have peppered Rowan with all the questions she’d never asked Nethyra.

   Luna listened to Quinn, grinning, “you really think I’m terrifying?” Although, she probably would stab someone in the face if it suited her to do so. She nodded as Quinn continued. She supposed she’d be more concerned if she thought she had to worry about Rowan and Rosalie’s safety. “Do you like him, though?” She asked. “Maybe by the time you’re married, we’ll have found a way to reverse the bond.”

   “If I were the one plotting revenge on someone, I’d go after the people they love, not them. But I’d go for the people who they’ll outlive, watch them suffer, rather than allowing them the mercy of not living long without them.” Luna really didn’t expect her enemies to go after Rowan and Rosalie. They wouldn’t succeed, most likely, anyways. And if they were alive to be angry with Luna, it meant she had gone after their friend or family, not them, usually. But she didn’t want her spouses to have to deal with anyone who decided to reappear from her past, either.

   Luna offered a wry smile, “i’m always here when you need an optimistic point of view,” she joked.

"There's a baseline where we're all marginally human-esque. Or at least learned to seem human, be passable about it. Or share some original connection, makes it all a little ridiculous that anyone human or otherwise wants to claim there's that much difference." He didn't know from personal experience how humans became things they weren't originally, chance or some genetic slide of genes to one side or another, but the baseline still remained. Even werewolves, once upon a time, came from at least marginally human origins.

"Why do I see that idea crashing and burning outstandingly with some people? The ones who will lock someone in a closet, specifically." He supposed it could have been worse, he didn't really have any reason to be wary of his supposed counterpart. As entertaining as someone that would constantly make life miserable all the time would be it had to get old quickly. Wouldn't last out the first day without the potential for a lifetime of therapy.

"I consider most people terrifying until proven otherwise," he replied solemnly, "And you just have the stab someone in the face look. It's a compliment." Should have been a compliment, the world as a whole was an unreasonably angry place anymore and that made it passable as a favorable observation.

"I don't dislike him." The situation, entirely, but the person involved? He couldn't say he had any real issues with Basil. "He's got this resting..I don't know, resting apprehensive face like he's waiting for someone to throw something at him and that's a little concerning." No, he didn't want to think about it excessively, the subject of Basil overall, because it was complicated. "Not that I plan to throw things at him, well, marshmallows don't count as I was under intense undue emotional stress at the time."

Quinn paused, the realization that the conversation was twisting itself towards his favorite subject, himself and the happenings of his life, and that really wasn't a good road to travel in the company of strangers. Self indulgent creature that he was, it was tempting, but best to leave his personal life as a sidebar.

Good thing he had that entire commentary about emotional torture of one's enemies to steer him back in track. Wasn't that delightful?

"I was going to retract my opinion of face-stabbing but now, no, I don't think I will." He regarded her with another quick once-over, making a mental note or two. "Remind me not to annoy you too much, I'm already too psychologically wasted to play that game." He looked bemused, or something along the lines of it, by the entire situation.

— “No, they’re just fragile,” Luna replied. Although, she didn’t hold quite as much contempt for humans as she claimed. After all, she had wanted to stay one. But she’d also spent years hurting them for fun, so she wasn’t sure she really could say she cared much for them. But she could see the similarities. 

   “I think they told us not because they’re counting on that — although I’m sure they are — but mainly because some of us are willing to kill our spouses after marrying them, claim it as an accident or pin the blame on someone else,” Luna spoke. “Enough people want the safety but not the rules.”

   “There are certainly people who are desperate enough, whether it’s because they’re tired of fighting, or because they aren’t strong enough to make it on their own outside the city.” She couldn’t say if she’d had left. She wasn’t worried about her safety. She’d make it on her own, just like she had her whole life. And if she died, well, she died. But now she didn’t think she’d be able to, unless she could severe the bond or leave and pretend it didn’t exist.

   “Peace never lasts. The treaties go up and then they come down much easier,” she sighed. She couldn’t decide if her family would need her to stay for them or not. Surely, they were safe enough for now, and could protect themselves, if the need arose. There were few enough left that they could more easily remain hidden, if they had to, or they could align with other witches. “They’ve really succeeded in gaandu yethi— pissing off a lot of people, now. some of them might actually leave.”

"Okay, fragile, maybe." But the words were accented by a sweep of one hand and a tip of his chin, "I'm still pretty certain they've still got one up on all of us though if they're what the monsters are afraid of."After all, wasn't that why the outside world had gone all to hell? Humans weren't so very different, nor were they innately good anymore than any of the races crawling through the dust of what the world had become.

"So now everybody just gets to play the waiting game to see which person they pissed off will get to whoever has that ring on their finger that matches?" He failed to see the grand plan behind it all, but mostly because he wasn't too willing to trust good intentions that came from people who set themselves up like overlords of their little supposed utopia. "Personally, I'm the hazard in my situation and it doesn't settle well.” 

And, as usual, once set upon a tangent he was like a dog gnawing at it. “I doubt that bothers you because you’re mildly terrifying and probably could stab someone in the face.” Just an observation of course, since she was a total stranger. “But the guy I’m supposed to marry is,” several adjectives came to mind like quiet, reserved, downright cheerful and harmless but he picked the one that lingered and his hand flipped up again in emphasis, “adorable. People that don’t like me? They’re not nice.” 

His lack of desire to destroy anyone else by simply their bad luck in drawing that card from the deck was overwhelming. That didn't even count the sheer mental exhaustion he was bound to inflict upon his hapless spouse-to-be without even meaning to. It was a first rate mess turned into an all out disaster with those daunting additional stipulations.

Ah, but enough about his ranting, that attention swung back to her instead. "Well that's optimistic, I was hopeful for some delusion of safety and calm before it all blew up."

“ Well that’s very considerate of you. “ Basil chuckled, thinking back to the dogs.  “ I’m sure they’d say thank you if they could. “ 

He offered a bit of a soft smile at Quinn’s consideration, giving him an out, but he already knew the answer. He’d made of his mind the moment he’d made it into Rome. “ I would stay, “ a pause, “ – am staying here nomattever what. Even if my pair was immortal. Which fae aren’t, for the record. Though they can live well into the hundreds, but - still. “ 

“ Maybe it’s dumb, but I’d rather live a long life and have some hope of being happy, even without love, just to have some kind of attempt at normalcy – then to go back out there and die by myself in the heap. “ It was the hard truth of things. But Basil was hardly bitter or bothered by his own harsh words. It was just the reality of the situation, and this late in the game, there was no point in getting upset about it. 

He shrugged, in return pointing the same question toward Quinn. “ – What about you? Would you stay and live hundreds of years, “ not immortal, but they did get pretty up there in numbers, “ with a stranger? “ He asked, before quickly adding. “ No diplomacy required and you wont hurt my feelings no matter what you say. Just so you know. “ 

It did feel rather odd to be asking that to the person he was meant to be marrying, but there was still time. Basil found Quinn to be not only witty in a talking sense, but just all around smart. He seemed like the type who could talk himself in and out of situations- surely if he left, he could survive in the wreckage of the world.

That wasn’t to say, that by any means, Basil wanted Quinn to leave. But rather, that if he did, he believed he could survive. – But no, of course the changeling wanted the other to stay. with him. He’d already decided that Quinn was funny and entertaining, and cute and — he frowned a bit at that. If Quinn left and he got rematched ( is that how this worked? ) it’d suck. 

“ I didn’t do it, “ Basil countered with a laugh, “ It just kind of happens when they’re sick. They hold on to water and get all giggly. – I don’t think it’s something that I could repeat with an animal. “ But hey. Apparently this place was filled with magic. Who was he to say a jello dog was off the tables?

Basil was already in the kitchen, shoes cast aside, as he opened up the cabinets in search of the new tea he’d found on an earlier shopping adventure. Lavender- something. “ I don’t know about you, but an olive with a tooth pick through it sounds kinda scary. – They look like eyeballs, they’re creepy enough as is. Let alone pokey. “ Therefore, an amazing weapon. And, bonus, they’d leave the victim smelling like olives. Which was basically a punishment in and of itself.

“ Ah, here we go. “ he mumbled, finding the little metal tin hidden among the other cabinet dwelling containers. He wasn’t really sure if Quinn liked tea, but it wasn’t as though he could offer coffee— He didn’t have a machine for it. Never mind, even having the instant kind. 

“ I mean, I guess it’s kinda working for me. But I think I’m pretty neutral to most people, and only nice to people who I think deserve it. “ Which was just about everyone until they proved him otherwise.  “ — I think you’re pretty nice too when you want to be. “  Letting Basil sit on his kitchen floor and play with his dogs. Going out of his way to make sure that he was comfortable in conversations. Going as far as to pull the attention toward himself when Basil flenched, or even carrying his plant. Quinn was probably nicer than he even realized. 

"No," Quinn barely reacted to the question when it was offered, little hesitation in the answer. "I'm pretty indifferent to living a really long time, obviously I want to live a little longer or I wouldn't be here." Although it wouldn't be the world that would bring a quicker end to his existence, he had grown up surviving on the thin lines of strained existence and it suited him fine, but his past still had hungry jaws that would end his life if it caught up to him.

"But I can't do that with a stranger, the idea is just wrong on some very fundamental level for me." How could anyone? Maybe marriage was a human concept and rang hollow for the disconnection he had from being human but those new laws? They ran much closer to more familiar concepts, ones even he had always felt some value to in spite of not holding value in more than a few other old traditions.

"I guess a lot depends on if we're still strangers or not when the time comes."

Which gave him, what; weeks? To judge the situation and how to address it. To make some sense of things between himself and Basil. The initial shock had dissolved and left him with the daunting task of actually having to admit things weren't as terrible as he'd expected them to be. Before it would have been simple enough to just say yes and part ways, no expectations on either side, but the laws carried the burden of life and death. Surely Basil was safer than most, he couldn't fathom anyone holding even malice towards him, which made himself the unpredictable factor and the potential threat.

Quinn wasn't much for showing his cards or offering up his secrets but a hint of honesty was probably kinder in the situation. "I'll tell you though, it's not out there that's dangerous to me. I've lived that most of my life and I'm fine with it, but I'm not a healthy person to be around because of a few mistakes that are keeping me in here."

Surely his brother wouldn't insist on carrying out his threats if someone innocent were caught up in the situation. Maybe it was a good defense but it was one Quinn wasn't going to be too obscure about. He wanted to but maybe the best case situation would fall into place and those old demons wouldn't come snapping at his heels again.

A long breath drawn, arms crossed as a shield from an excess of inconvenient honesty, even he was a bit surprised he hadn't outright stated he'd be gone in a few weeks. It was a better plan, a less selfish one, but he didn't know what the coming weeks might bring. The fact that he was even considering the possibility was a testament to his slipping grip sanity, probably.

"Sick cactus are an easier topic, no more making me think for a while," he also offered a pointed look with the words, "I know I was the one to bring it up, before you say it." Not his most brilliant choice of conversation topics but it had to be addressed, and then it could be set aside for a while without being a looming cloud of unspoken questions.

"I have never seen an eyeball look like that, what sort of eyeballs are you looking at? They're round and much more squishy," Quinn unfolded one arm to offer a general motion of fingers that was meant to reference squishing something, yes, visual aid. "Like your jello cactus." He was trying to wrap his brain around an olive as a weapon, not sure if it was abysmal or creative, but probably not the best thing to fixate on at the time.

"Oh yeah, I'm a real saint." Quinn laughed, shoulders tipped back against the wall he still hasn't stepped foot away from since coming into the apartment. "One who knows how dead people smell and that eyeballs squish." He couldn't resist a little morbid humor, sometimes saying something was entirely to see the reaction. The horrible plight that was being an instigator by nature. “I do very much appreciate your pleasant delusion though, yeah, let’s go with that; I’m a great person.” Oddly though, even though he was tempted to fall back into laughter he almost believed Basil, strange as the words were to hear. 

“ With three dogs is anything you do really private?” He asked with a chuckle. It was so easy to imagine the dogs following Quinn around everywhere- the bathroom included. The ghost would probably just see the carpet shark and crew in tail, and follow suit out of sheer curiosity. Just to see what all the hype was about. 

—- “ I’m not sure why they did it. “ Basil agreed, just as confused as Quinn. He could still hear the horrified gasps of the crowd around him, the look of shock and betrayal on the bride that he’d met just after escaping the arena. It wasn’t fair. Not to her. Not to them. Not anyone. “ I think some of them genuinely think what they’re doing is for the best. That is the best way to go about it. They’re just… really wrong. “ 

Giving someone an extended lifespan gave the couple a chance to live out a full life with the person they loved- but why give that to two people who were being forced to wed, with a small chance of actually falling in love? - One death leading to their partner’s was meant to be a security so that the couple could live together without fear of the other’s betrayal- but it was also putting them at risk if their match was dangerous. And given the war at hand, that was probably a large chunk of the population. 

He could see why they did some of the things they did, but at the same time, it felt as though they didn’t think it through. They did what they decided was right without thinking about the logistics or details behind it. It was as if the people of Romes were just pawns at this point, doomed to play along with their narrative or get out and starve to death among the ruins of the world torn apart. 

“ They don’t care about us. “ Basil concluded with a sigh, “ They pretend to. But they don’t. Everyone comes to Rome thinking it’s going to be safe and happy but it’s just… scary.  “ Not as scary as the world outside of rome, but still scary nonetheless. 

“ I didn’t think you’d kill it. I just thought you wouldn’t be around it and fall out. And I’m clumsy enough as it is, so never mind me trying to catch you if you did. — But if it’s any consolation,  I’ve killed a cactus before. It got all jello-y and I couldn’t fix it. It was weird. “ He scrunched up his nose at the thought. It had been sad, watching his needle-y bud wiggle about, knowing full and well that there was nothing he could do to save it. “ — They really are. I normally play music to try and make things not so… dead? It’s especially creepy at night. “ 

Basil wasn’t exactly loud, but he liked some background ambiance when he could get it. Anything to make his every thought and step not so prominent. “ Oh? I’m going to assume that’s a good thing. “ He replied, clicking the door shut behind him. And then locking it for good measure. Not to keep Quinn in, but to let him know when his roommate was going to come in and interrupt them, nosy as they were. “ – You can plop the plant anywhere. Do you want something to drink? Or food? Or am I being too nice again. “ He chuckled, thinking back to refilling Quinn’s coffee that one time. “ Would you prefer I throw something at you first? I don’t think I have marshmallows, but maybe olives. “

"Vodka not as much, he's the equivalent of a bored child most of the time, but the other two mostly only demand attention when they want something." And dogs didn't really have thumbs so doors were an obvious solution to privacy. "I wouldn't want to scar them for life, poor dogs."

"I'm less convinced, but you're nicer than I am and clearly give people more of the benefit of doubt." At least those in charge, everyone else he had little concern over how they lived their lives but people in power made choices that settled upon everyone. "At this point I'm not sure they even think will go through with it when their number comes up. I mean, would you stay and spend the next...however long it is Fae even live, with a stranger?" Quite the awkward question to be asking the person he was expected to marry, yes, but curiosity always did tend to win out over common sense or reasonable boundaries with him. Those things were just troublesome stones to trip over in the way of finding out useful information.

"You don't have to give me the diplomatic answer," he added, just in case Basil determined enough to handle it delicately and stumble over himself for the sake of the truth being unpleasant if that were the case.

At least Basil recognized the deeply unsettling aspects of those rules, he was smart and not as likely to take things on a first glance the way he'd assumed of him. Misguided in that opinion, Quinn realized he had to reconsider his initial views of the other man. True, he still saw a great deal of damage there in layers but Basil was sharp, quiet didn't mean he wasn't perceptive. Not that he would have admitted as much out loud but he was surprised by several things he hadn't expected when it came to the mild Changeling. Entirely lacking the rough edges and teeth Quinn himself was used to in people, but he could appreciate the stubbornness that stood as counterpoint to his own. It probably wasn't the worst match he could have found himself in, if he were going to be stuck in that city.

Ugh. Quinn ushered the notion away forcefully before it could root itself too deeply, he didn't need to be thinking in terms of those possibilities.

"Jello-y?" The idea struck him as so bizarre it demanded repeating and even then it was difficult to imagine. Borderline hilarious too but he didn't think laughing about it would go over so well when he was dealing with someone potentially as attached to his floral companions as he was his canines. "I'm having serious doubts now about letting you around the dogs if you turned a cactus into jello." Frankly, Vodka was already wiggly and jello-like enough in his current dog state and didn't need that encouragement.

He was still trying to sort out cactus jello when the realization that Basil had mentioned neighbors went over his head entirely. He didn't fully tune back in until the other man was rambling down a list of hospitable offers half a mile long.

"Olives? Those don't count as things that should be eaten on their own at all, much less a weapon." Quinn glanced around, a bit obviously awkward in not knowing what to do with himself, before moving away from the door enough to set the fern on the ground. "And you're always too nice, you're abnormally nice and apparently that's just your thing."

It didn't sound like an insult though, or even humor, just a certain agreement that it was the case; Basil was alarmingly nice in a way many people weren't. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't wise either, given how some people thrived on manipulating situations and people. He had some intense insight when it came to people, or else just flat out dumb luck in his favor, and Quinn wasn't sure why either seemed equally suited to Basil.

"That was an observation," he clarified, "not a judgement. If being nice works for you then you're probably doing better than most people."

It had been more of a joke than anything. Saying that the girl he hadn’t seen since was a ghost. sure it wasn’t really a ‘ ha ha ‘ laugh kind of joke, but still - he hadn’t seen it taking that turn. He started to ask how Quinn knew what death smelled like, but just as quickly decided to go against it, ignoring his curiosity for once. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answer to that one yet. — “ Oh great, you said it out loud. “ He replied instead, “ Now the ghosts know that you’re clueless and that they can sneak up on us. Might as well label our apartment together as haunted and keep our stuff in boxes so we can run at the first sign of a cabinet flying open. “

Three dogs, a wolf, and a changeling who feels the need to also save his plants– what a sight that would be for the neighbors should they ever need to run from their hypothetical haunted apartment at 3am. ( because it was always at 3 am. Basil had seen the movies, he knew how these things went. ) If they moved in together. If the government didn’t keep doing strange things and scare one of them out of Rome before their wedding day. You know- details. 

“ Sounds like a solid plan to me. “ He affirmed with a little nod. At least one of them was actually giving this whole ordeal some thought instead of blatantly pretending as though it wasn’t happening. No plan - or rather, a watch and wait plan - was just as good as anything else. “ I really can’t picture their next theatrical being much more shocking though. — What’s scarier and bigger than a soul bond? “

To glue a ring on your hand, change your lifespan, and attach the stakes of your life to your partner’s— Even if they did have more in store, how could they possibly top something like that?? 

“ It’s just a vibe. “ Basil explained, amused by how quickly Quinn played along with his naming and giving his plants pronouns as though they were people. “ I don’t think he’ll be offended if you can’t tell what he is. “ He laughed, eyeing the other with playful suspicion. “ I’m afraid to ask what other strange things you’ve done then. “ Not that Basil found speaking to a plant strange, he just usually didn’t find them to disagree with what he was saying. 

Passing the plant over, he’d expected it to get placed on the floor or quickly passed back. But instead… he was actually offering to carry it for him. 

“ It’s only one flight of stairs — I, um. Are you sure ? “ He asked, smiling tugging at the corner of his mouth. —- Surely, he had a touch of heart eyes. It was sweet enough that Quinn was offering to carry the thing to the apartment for Basil’s sake ( completely catching basil off guard - he’d only meant to pass it to him for a moment. ) but also, the image of Quinn holding this giant plant, fern sprigs sticking out this way and that. 

“ thank you. – let me know if you change your mind though. He’s kinda hard to see around. Especially on stairs. “ He turned away, mostly to hide his expression, but also leading the two up the stairs to the right and down a little hallway. Occasionally glancing back to make sure the other hadn’t gotten thrown off by the plant or toppled over.  

Room number 09, all the way down at the end. –This door, unfortunately, didn’t have a song to it. Just a little lock and key that Basil could easily undo with his hands plant free. “ Here we go. “ He said, stepping to the side so that he could hold the door open for Quinn. 

"Ghosts don't worry me much, they want to chance sticking around to haunt me? It's on them having to witness the sort of things I do in private." It as a joke but he doubted many would bother to haunt him after the first few nights, for their own sanity. And if they didn't flee? Well, they probably earned a chance to torment him given how much he'd strive to find ways to torment them in return. It might have been fun, actually, annoying a ghost.

"Never underestimate peoples' ability to outdo the worst you could think of, they're creative." And even more so than that they were in power, give anyone power and even the best of intentions were abused. "They literally just denied people the ability to die naturally, set up half the city to be murdered if they have the bad luck to be stuck with somebody stronger than them with enemies, and thought all of that would avoid war by manipulating fear of the world outside." Quinn wasn't so much bitter as wary, he was smart enough to bolt if need be but some people couldn't survive outside Rome.

"Not to be horribly pessimistic about it but why do that and risk upsetting peace between strained people if there wasn't a reason?" Actually he wasn't worried about sounding pessimistic, unhinged or anything else. "If it was all for selfless reasons why make people do all of that with complete strangers?" There was something, some piece of a puzzle he didn't know yet. One that made those instincts restless.

"Strange is a matter of opinion. I find very few things I do strange, but by common opinions? Most people think I'm a lunatic, but really I'm just easily bored." Quinn chuckled from behind the leaves of the fern; how dull was it to rely on the typical to amuse himself? "I don't know how people survive being boring, or why you would even want to."

Yes, he was experiencing a rare moment of desire to be helpful, maybe he was ill. Or maybe he was certain hauling that fern wasn't going to kill him and he didn't really mind doing. Surely not the latter. Frustratingly, he had discovered that he didn’t mind doing things for Basil, he never considered himself an excessively helpful type needlessly but there were complications to navigate within the situation between them and Quinn wasn’t really sold yet on what to do about, well, any of it. It didn’t help that Basil was a pleasant person to be around, how much easier would life had been if he couldn’t stand the Changeling? But, no, instead he held back the full extent of his bristling and found irritation over how awkward the other male was. Not for the awkwardness itself but because it held the suggestions that he mostly knew from the last conversation to be true, that life hadn’t been all too kind to Basil either.  He didn’t like that. 

"Even I can't kill a plant just carrying it down a hall. Couldn't keep a cactus alive in the desert if I had someone else taking care of it for me, but this I can accomplish." He wasn't the best when it came to the mystical ways of growing things, but he just had to carry the thing so that was almost impossible to screw up short of tossing it out a window. "Your neighbors are unnervingly quiet," at least from what he could tell from between branches and greenery.

Reaching the hallway, the doorway, that was all easy enough. He only paused once inside the door, the apartment, remaining there because it wasn't his territory, not a space to roam because it was foreign and occupied. It was practically inborn to exercise that habit of not encroaching on places that belonged to others in the personal sense. No different really than stepping into the area staked out by one pack and being from another; the rules of human habits at times were blurry at the edges for him.

“Well, I can definitely tell you live here.” Quinn didn’t need to see to know that, there was just something about places where people existed within, space they wove their lives into even for short periods of time that were marked by their presence. Not just scent, that of course but some stray feeling of presence, and he always felt as though it was intrusive walking into them. 

it wasn’t clear which choice was better – stay and endure whatever the council and silas decided in the name of peace, or attempt to survive outside of the city. he had to wonder if the lives here were always going to be full of impossible choices. it almost made him miss the simplicity of having few choices in life.

“i don’t think it’s a lack of intelligence that’s going to keep people here.” he was willing to give the people in the same situation as him more credit than that. “most people that came here are tired of war and everything it brings. i can’t fault them for wanting to stay here for peace – even if it comes with a cost.” and even if it wouldn’t last.

abel raised a brow at the man’s comment – ‘evil’ plan sounded a tad melodramatic. “the way they’re handling this is misguided and potentially dangerous, but their intent isn’t malicious.” he shook his head, “i’m not saying that excuses anything, but at the very least we know they’re not purposefully trying to make things worse.” did that really make it any better?

"Yeah, and that's what the road to hell is paved with, from what I've heard." Quinn came from a life closely knit to others and fueled by collective survival, trust was either an absolute or everything collapsed. Good intentions were not the same as actions and the latter always made the path. "Not to sound horribly uncomfortable with the idea of that whole greater good mantra but it's usually not as good in practice as in theory." Was there still the choice to leave? Yes, for the time being, but even that scale could tip. And with it came the real danger in making people feel trapped.

"It's the people who are tired of the world out there, or can't survive it, that I feel bad for in all of this." An admission that hit the core of things, really, in knowing some people simply had no other alternative. "But I guess most things that sound too good to be true are. I'm still hanging around here so obviously I'm not smart enough to take off yet either." It was possibly humor, morbid or otherwise, or just the convictions of someone bored enough to test the madness a little longer.

“ Or maybe you saw a ghost.  “ Basil proposed, amusing himself. A ghost girl and her walking plant. What a duo. —- –  Truth be told, the changeling had met a handful of people like that himself while wandering around Rome alone. The sort of person who stuck around for a conversation or two, but in the long run they didn’t become someone meaningful to his story. 

It was Basil’s norm really, to assume that all relations were temporary at best, so he hardly ever thought back to those who were only in his life for a matter of minutes. It was actually sort of morbid in a way, but he really didn’t dwell on that or the prior too often. 

“ Already done. “ He considered making another remark, just to tease Quinn for seeming so pleased by being called creepy, but there were more pressing things on his mind at the moment.  “ And what exactly are you planning?  – Even if it does have a weak spot or two, it’s not as though they’ll take criticism. “ 

Everything had a loophole or some highly refined print in the margins. But at this point, Basil wasn’t even sure it was worth looking into or exploiting. Not when the government was so willing to make big displays of power to prove that they had the final say in all of this. They were trying to scare the citizens of Rome, and Basil was among the majority of whom it had worked on. Job well done, no uprising here. 

He just assumed that Quinn would follow along as he turned on his heels and started back on his way toward his apartment. It wasn’t too much unlike Quinn’s- perhaps a bit more quiet. “ They can be anything. This one just felt like a ‘ he ‘ to me. “ Basil explained with a little shrug. Or at least, the best he could manage with Dorian taking up so much of his upper body. “ — He’s a fern. But, yes. I name them. A lot of people do, apparently. I think it has something to do with the fact that you’re meant to talk to them, and giving them a name makes it feel less silly. “ 

Talking to plant was kind of like therapy. Except they didn’t talk back and probably couldn’t understand a word he was saying. But, ya know. If it helps, it helps. It was probably all fine and dandy, just so long as he didn’t expect them to start talking back- then he’d need a real therapist. 

“ You know, you’re not really selling me on the whole ‘ not jealous ‘ thing. First a shrub, now a bush- if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to insult him. “ Basil made his way up to the padlock, only to huff a bit once he realized he’d have to set the plant down or hand it off to Quinn in order to unlock the door. Pressing little metal buttons and balancing the large thing was apparently off the tables. “ I’m sorry, “ he meant it. The other had only been with him for a matter of minuets and already he was inconveniencing him, “ Do you mind– ? Just for half a second. “ 

——- Boop boop. Basil hummed the little button noises as he pressed them, only to have the door make a little chime and click sound in return, unlocking for them. “ Ah- there we go. “ He turned back for the plant, half expecting it to be placed on the steps between them. 

"She smelled alive." Which was about the extent of what he could say one way or the other on the matter. His experience with the dead had been limited more to corpses than spectral beings so Quinn thought his grasp of awareness of a living, breathing person was sound enough to be passable. "Maybe not, I don't know, ghosts might be different. But I know what dead things smell like." No point in arguing something he could have been wrong about, other than the entertainment of being contradictory. Sadly, he wasn't in the mood for it.

"Nothing, actually." A resounding amount of nothing and that was the simplistic beauty of it; doing very little was exactly how to accomplish more on that case. "You don't have to do anything until you're required to, and it's a big city, that could take a while. Or it could be tomorrow, but if they made that big of a show of it the first time they'll keep it up." And that meant time, informing people, and waiting until that number was up. "It's not out there so however long it is, I guess it's something." He wasn't, contradiction as it might have been, taking the stance of refusal because of Basil, or he was but not for what looked to be the obvious reason.

"Okay, the plant is a he. But it's a plant and I can't one from another most of the time." They were just green, he saw little differences in them but would leave that to the people who clearly had an attachment to them. It wasn't like everyone didn't need a means to stay sane. "I can't say an argument with a plant is the strangest thing I've done," he mused over it and considered barely in the top ten of that list.

When the shrub fern was handed over Quinn looked it over and would have sworn the thing tried to take one of his eyes out with a leafy swing as he balanced it, he hadn't endeared himself to Dorian, no. That was fine, he wasn't sold himself on being friendly with the local foliage either so they'd just have to call it a truce for the time being.

Did Basil really just hum along with the door? Alright then.

Quinn looked at the leafy monstrosity in his grasp and tempting as it was to just drop it to the doorstep he ignored the impulse. "I can carry a plant. Unless I have to haul this thing up five flights of stairs; in that case I'm out and you can have it back."

“ I don’t know about the first person you came across, but I’m just relocating it from the shop to my place. “ Although, it certainly would be much easier if they did, in fact, walk. It would save him from having to borrow strollers and lug around giant pots, bumping into strangers because they were so already so bushy and eager to sprawl out in all directions. 

But on the other hand, giving them legs would require some kind of sentience and then that just sounded like the ordeal with Alice and the rude talking flowers who called her a weed and, really, the idea was sounding worse the more he tried to imagine it. – Maybe this was for the best. “ But if your friend had been walking their plant, they sound… interesting. Maybe they’re onto something that the two of us haven’t figured out yet. “ 

If the other didn’t need a map to find him, then how– Immediately his brain when to the very human thought of ‘ did he follow me, then? ‘ but then the remembered what Quinn had said before about his hearing and smell. It brought on a new series of questions entirely. “ I’m not sure if I find that impressive or creepy. “ He toyed with the idea, head titled to the side so that he could see past the leaves. Still, just barely. 

“ – Mhm. I almost thought that you and your dramatics might be among them. “ He replied, the tiniest hints of smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth giving away any ill regards in the remark. “ That wedding ceremony was really something. Certainly… different.“ 

If he tried to remember it, he could still hear the gasps and horrified expressions of those around him in the stands. Surely he’d looked just as afraid when he realized what was going on. – To think, he’d gone into the arena thinking that it was going to be a nice evening. Sweet even. Obviously, it had turned out to be anything but.

“ Don’t tell me, you’re jealous of Dorian. “ Basil toyed, casting a playful glance back and forth between his fiance and the plant. “ I was actually about to bring him into my apartment, but you’re more than welcome to come inside too if you like. “

"Not really a friend, actually...I have no idea where she ended up, haven't seen her since." Unfortunate, that, but nothing he was likely to lose sleep over when people came and went as easily as the breeze, he never counted on them to stay and never asked it. The ones he had? Well, his pack was different, people he had grown up with and shared all those complicated life experiences with that built real bonds. Funny how, in the end, they were gone too.

Basil might have been onto something making friends with plants, they didn't argue and they stayed put, that almost counted as loyalty in some drastically off-skew way. Far be it for him to judge who and what amounted to attachment, though it might have been wise to draw the line at things like poison ivy for the obvious downsides.

"Feel free to find it both," Quinn retorted cheerfully, as it probably did border just a hint on the stalking side of things. But, there were of course other matters to focus on and Basil wasn't wrong in his assumptions. "Oh, mine were worse, but shorter lived." He assured him because there had been a storm cloud of dramatic in his wake, anger and all. "Then I had to get over myself, stop ranting and get to planning."

An easy shrug, a dismissal of the idea that those rules didn't have room to bend to his needs. Quinn had never accepted anything as simply black and white, and he never would. "It wasn't a wedding, it was...a very carefully calculated power-play. But, those always have weak spots."

He watched Basil continue onward with his bulky plant wobbling along. "He? Plants can be a he? And no, I am by no means jealous of a shrub." He scoffed, though he did prefer to be the center of attention, yes, so maybe it wasn't a flawless argument. "And the plant has a name, of course it does." Almost asked if Basil wanted help but that left the implication that he thought him incapable, he was certain the other male could accomplish totting the plant just fine. "Oh, so I can come along if I want, you sure you don't want to ask the bush first?" Quinn followed along though, just barely close enough if the need arose where he could give Basil a little nudge if his balance tipped, precaution wasn't the same as doubt.

He wasn’t going to run away again. Not this time. — Not even if the whole ‘ soul bonding, metal rings cemented to your hand like a permanent prison cuff ‘ thing scared him to absolute death. — Nope. He’d committed himself to staying in Rome and learning how to deal with his issues like a full functioning adult.. 

But as time went on, Basil quickly learned that the best way to deal with your issues, was to stall. Or to ignore them completely, whatever happened to come first.

So rather than seeking out his fiance for a second time to have a much needed discussion about the new ‘laws’ that had come to light- he busied himself during all the daylight hours. The first task was to unpack the kitchen and bedroom respectively. The next was to actually grocery shop so that he could eat an actual meal ( not just cheese and honey– not that he’d really minded that part so much ). 

And then there was today’s task- filling the apartment with plants to make up for everything feeling so dreary. Maybe it was just his boring roommate’s aura, but the whole apartment just felt as though it lacked life. — This was trip number two. The first tripp had been the smaller plants, ones that could be put in a baby carrier- turned plant carrier ( he borrowed it from a neighbor whose child had outgrown it. ). This time around it was just Basil hugging a giant fern plant to his chest as if it were an overgrown child who refused to touch concrete. 

Sure it made the road a bit hard to see, but he’d just about made it home when– bam !! He bonked right into another body. –Thank goodness, he didn’t drop his new plant child. — He lowered it a bit though, ready to apologize to the poor soul he’d just about taken out, when he noticed the other’s head of hair. It was easy recognizable. “ Oh. “ He managed, dropping the plant a bit lower. He’d kiiinda been avoiding him ( or rather, the conversation that would follow once he saw Quinn ) but he smiled never the less. It did make him happy to see the other after all. “ – You were looking for me ?? “ He asked, curious as to the other’s mumbles. 

“ You could’ve just —- “ He paused, only to look put out as the realization hit him. “ I never gave you my address. Right.  “

Rather than address the topic of what he may or may not have been looking for Quinn simply regarded the ratio of plant to person and found it mildly ridiculous. But of course, why not, what hadn't he seen already of Basil that didn't border strange or even comical? The Changeling was hardly dull, perhaps that was something to the species or else Basil himself was an oddity. He left it to assumption that interest in plants fell to his Fae roots; weren't faeries and the like always flicking about in the woods and wild places? If stories held much water, and who really knew. Personally, Quinn found the woods rather excessive and filled with unpleasant creatures; he far preferred the familiarity of streets and more pavement than grass.

"You're the second person I've seen since I've been here doing that and I'm still pretty sure you don't have to walk them." Weren't plants supposed to be more agreeable than that? Passive sorts sunbathing and taking in the world with few concerns. Why couldn't he have been born a weed? Didn't seem like such a bad go at things.

"Didn't need it," as he stepped aside Quinn left the notion there, Basil could speculate for himself but surely after their last conversation he would know how he tracked him down. "I've been having a lovely time watching people lose their minds the past few days."

He'd seen everything in reaction to the wedding laws from the tired indifference of people exhausted by life so badly one more stipulation upon it held no meaning to those with rage sparked in their eyes at being chained in ways they couldn't fathom a fair trade for only a little false safety. Really the only ones he'd felt sympathy for fell between the extremes; too afraid to risk leaving and aching over what the cost of it was, the ones who thought in the end Rome would still leave breathing room for silly things like choice or affection, much less love.

Why would the powers that be risk such things? A heart was a dangerous animal, prowling and starved with desires; there was a reason it stayed trapped within a cage of ribs rather than allowed to roam free. The destruction such a blind beast could leave in its' wake during the hunt for a missing piece of itself. How many broken souls had suffered that devastation willingly for the chance at peace it tempted with? He couldn't say either way if there was much truth to it, Quinn had always been too selfish and wary of giving pieces of himself away, he was hardly any expert on such lofty ideals. But it was little wonder Rome would not chance such unpredictability.

"Should I leave you to bonding time with -" hand lifted, a sweeping motion to the collection of leaves and greenery, "-whatever this is exactly."

— luna looked up when she heard someone speaking, “not exactly the word i’d use to describe it,” she quipped. she hadn’t expected to be in the first batch of marriages, let alone for them to spring that on them. she wasn’t ready to be married, even, and the bond just made her feel worse about all of it. she hadn’t spoken to her family yet, really, she’d ducked out of the ceremony rather quickly, avoiding her family members so she wouldn’t have to see the worry.

   “depends on what round their enemies are married off in,” luna replied, lifting one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. she hadn’t really considered that, though, too busy reeling over her own bond. but once he pointed it out, a part of her considered looking to find out if the vampires who had attacked her family were in rome. although, she knew that if she just got the leader alone, she would be strong enough to kill him on her own.

   “hmm, good thing i’m not stuck with some human then,” luna snorted. but he wasn’t wrong. and she couldn’t even run. it would be selfish to risk that now. but surely the council, despite the stupidity of waiting until after the vows, would have some solution to that. else the peace they claimed this was driving them towards keeping wouldn’t be kept long.

"Humans aren't helpless," Quinn countered with very little concern over how unpopular the opinion might be, "They certainly have everyone here paranoid enough to go through all of this." Underestimating that was likely a dangerous road, but for his part he was practically indifferent to the comparisons between the supernatural and humanity. He had spent more than enough time around both to see they weren't different.

"Still, you have to give them credit for springing that little detail on people after they were stuck with it." There was something darkly ingenious to it, oh yes, "I don't see why they waited for that and still told everyone right after. Are they counting on people being desperate enough to go through with it anyway?"

Of course they were, most people lived in fear of the monsters in the world even if they were the monsters themselves. He would have found it hilarious if not for that itch at the back of his mind that was a reminder his number was going to be up at some point as well. The humor to it went a little flat at that point but he just hadn't found the right way around those rules, yet.

"I'm pretty sure this version of peace has already played out a few times in history and it didn't go so great then either." Quinn's brow furrowed at the prospects of trading freedom for safety. He didn't have anyone to depend on him anymore, maybe that was more of a positive than it had felt like before because, personally, he didn't do so well with leashes.

After having his fair share, if not a bit more of it honestly, of indignant ranting and internal panic over the events of the recent weddings Quinn had set himself to very direct, honed paces. Some part of him was convinced mood swings were as much a part of his race as fur and full moons because he'd never met another werewolf who wasn't their own brand of dramatic. His just happened to be the jumbled, vocal sort. But, with a few days to settle it made more sense to keep occupied rather than overthink. He wasn't going to find loopholes if he was too busy complaining and wallowing in how sneaky, a fact he could have appreciated if it didn't affect him as well, that underhanded soul bonding nonsense was.

It wasn't just running around the area to keep himself distracted, he was also avoiding Basil. It hasn't even crossed his mind to attend the wedding with his apparently future husband and Quinn was still detached from the reality of that idea. Of silver rings - what sort of bad idea was that because he couldn't even wear silver- and nervous possibilities. It was great leverage, being able to point out that anyone who wanted to kill him would also be taking out some innocent idiot stuck with him; but was he really enough of a bastard to use it? Frankly, the jury was still out on that one.

He was ambling his way towards home, wrapped up in thought, when something snared his attention. Only the smallest, faintest hint of familiarity on the breeze. He wasn't looking for it, for him, but could he find Basil? As much as he liked to play up his little gifts they had limits, even Quinn wasn't certain if he could chase a shadow scent likely days stale through streets and around buildings. But he had little else to do but entertain himself, so why not?

Like a game of hide and seek the other was unwittingly playing, Basil had been here and there, traces of his presence lingered at corners where he'd stopped, shops he might have paused to explore, and overlapped in directions he had traveled more than once. Hands buried into his pockets and walking himself in circles, Quinn followed one to the next. The strongest spot was muddled over with dozens of others, until he found himself at dead ends where people had diluted that scent with their own.

Vaguely frustrated, his gaze swung to the handful of buildings on the street not so far from his own home, by the sheer amount of other people who lived there his senses were confused. He couldn't decipher exactly which building, not without closer inspection, and he gathered plenty of strange looks without actually slinking around too close to the collective mass of people who were nestled into those little boxed off apartments. Ah well, his foray into being a borderline stalker had seemingly come to an end with him standing and staring in contemplation from the sidewalk.

He finally took a blind step back, having grown bored with that fixation, time to find the next one to keep himself, marginally, out of trouble. That over-saturation of scent likely why he didn’t notice at first, not until he had nearly stepped off the curb and right into the Changeling.  Quinn wasn’t certain why it hadn’t occurred to him that he might actually run into Basil. 

“Oh, well, there you are,” he mumbled, as though being there had been his intention all along. Not need for the actual truth in the matter, it was just a little detail anyway.

“ I’m agreeable in this context, because, well, I actually agree. “ Basil replied with a wink && cheeky grin. Perhaps he’d actually appear flirty if there wasn’t a pink hue dusting under his freckles like a fever across his nose, attempting to sound cool when really he’s just as flustered as the first time Quinn mentioned something risque. —  “ But that. That one I don’t agree with !! Not even a little bit. “ He laughed, nose scrunching up at the thought. “ That’s sooo bad. It’s like.. if Dad jokes were dirty. It’s going to haunt me. “ 

Basil didn’t see any harm in play flirting with his ‘fiance’. Quinn was funny && bold enough for the two of them – it was so incredibly easy to laugh && play along, even if he wasn’t the most sauve person on the the planet. Even if his face utterly betrayed him. — The way he saw it, they were stuck together. && he’d thought since the get go that the other was attractive. So whatever, this was toootally legal. 

— Right. So. That wasn’t a real answer. He just evaded the answer entirely. Which was fine, but Basil came up with something better. “ What’s the opposite of selective hearing?? “ He asked, trying to think of a term. “ Overactive listening ?? I imagine that’s when you listen to everything && then some, so you hear more than what they actually said.— I’m going to pretend you said ‘ slightly bigger puppy ‘ . “ He even went as far to do a bad Quinn impression && everything before grinning at his own joke. 

But to be fair with an Italian accent, that he hadn’t quite learned how to get rid of, every impression he did was going to be vaguely bad. — I still didn’t stop him from giggling like it was funny though.

“ But he’s a cute doorstop~ “ Basil cooed, hugging the squishy dog like a wiggly plushy. “ – I’m not sure I’d mind being a slave to his demands. I welcome my new dog overlord. “ He released the little thing from his hug, instead casting his gaze down. “ – Did you hear that?? I’m getting kicked out. But don’t worry, next time I’ll bring your treat tax, your highness. Forgive me just this once. – oh!! Actually– “ He glanced around the corner, leaning forward with his palm on the tile to steady them. “ there might still be a marshmallow on the floor from our battle earlier. If you go quickly, “ His voice dropped to a whisper, “ before he notices. You might just be able to get it. I wont tell if you don’t.“ 

People getting easily flustered, did that even exist in the world anymore? Apparently it did with Changeling, which might have been something telling about their race as a whole if it was a shared trait. Basil was an oddity, an awkward, eager creature in a world full of ugliness and tired old wreckage. There was something refreshing to that, something charming, and doubtlessly something was uneasy over the prospects of watching the world ruin. It did, eventually, ruin most any good thing.

"Why can't dad jokes be dirty? By the very idea of being a dad they probably have a working knowledge of at least a handful of otherwise deviant acts." Quinn flashed a smirk at the knowledge, that terrible logic that every dad clearly had become one by the act of spawning and producing more little partial genetic clones. Ah, the joys of parental obligation.

"That's just a dad joke, entirely a different creature from calling someone daddy, on the deviance scale they're not even close." Again, he was simply sharing educated knowledge, of course, not at all just for the bonus of finding it amusing when Basil turned that lovely shade of flushed pink. Pretty little creature, but Quinn wouldn't allow himself to dwell too much on that anymore than he could chance too much attachment. Both would be a battle but, ultimately, for the best in both their cases.

"Hmn, don't you just think you're clever," he paused at the turn of words and horrendous impression, weighing something with the trail of his eyes. But whatever conclusion he came to Quinn spoke nothing of beyond a contemplative sound as he stepped away and let his attention shift back to the task he'd already set to.b

Basil was clever, perhaps a bit hesitant in that and in finding his nerve at times, but there was a sharpness to him. It was the circumstances that were wrong, not the boy himself. He hadn't been around him long enough to know if the other would grate at his nerves with too much time in his company but if not that made things all the more a pity though, Quinn didn't gather friends easily and he couldn't fathom connecting more than that with anyone who valued their sanity; it would have been easier if there had been a list already of things about Basil he disliked. Damn him for not being a standoffish idiot that Quinn would have felt no hesitation in snapping at and driving away.

"Well, the dog overlord needs to eat and I still have work to do tonight, so I'm afraid you're cast out on your own, yes." Work that he wouldn't carry out in the daylight hours, but for once the distraction of having to focus on those errands was a welcome one with so much else on his mind.

"And I heard that," he added with a look from Vodka to Basil as they conspired together. Just what he needed, something else around that could gang up on him. He 'tsked and motioned Vodka back off towards the living room after the carpet shark had fled with a mouthful of fluffy sugar.

"Goodnight Bazzy, time for you to scurry off to wherever it is pretty little Changelings go. I’m sure I’ll see you again before long." Quinn shook his head with a chuckle, it was just about the closest the other was going to get from him so far as a farewell and it sufficed. He didn't offer to make future plans, having little doubt that Basil would show back up at his front door at some whim very shortly in the yet to be even without plans settled.