Eddie the Banished

Eddie found himself standing up straighter when looked at directly. Against all his best wishes, and general inclinations, he found himself wanting to impress when presented with such scrutiny. He wanted to look decent and earn the approval. The approval of this… creature? person? who had been the cause of his own death. It was absurd, and he rankled against it. He ground his teeth as Vecna approached. He exhaled for a moment, and then followed that icy gaze down to the chunk of missing meat from his person. He thought he could see bone, if he peeled the skin back a bit more. It ached with each breath and each motion. He’d been able to hide it for a while beneath his clothes, but the towel wasn’t exactly offering a ton of options as far as hiding went. He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t care about how I look,” he muttered. Everything about him showed that was a lie. The way he’d fixed his hair before with what little product he could afford. The way he’d dressed. The way he carried himself. He preened, even if he wanted to pretend he didn’t Everything was so carefully planned. He winced at the initial touch. He stiffened, but he didn’t entirely draw back. He just… froze. His skin went pale. “It - hurts.” His voice cracked as he spoke. He felt the stroke, the gentle slide of fingers over broken skin, flesh, muscle, bone. His fingers curled, but he’d removed his rings. Nothing to fiddle with. Nothing to hide. He swallowed audibly as he met that gaze. “It hurts.” He repeated, a bit more steadily. “How could you - fix it?” [ @vecnaaone ]

  “… Hmm…” He stared down at the injury, again, seeing it had not healed up properly enough, and then peered into Eddie’s eyes, once more. “Well, with my powers, of course. I was able to bring you back, so this should not be that much of a stretch for my abilities…” Which was not at all far from what he believed to be the truth of it, as there seemed to be an endless amount of it, and no limit has held him back thus far. The most had been at the hands of doctors, who wanted nothing more than to control his gifts.

Henry smiled briefly at him, as though something like this was amusing, and it somewhat was to him. To see this one in pain was beautiful, admittedly he would think of it, and as much as he would have liked to keep it that way, (a reminder of who he belonged to), it might be for the better to keep him a least somewhat at peace with this new life of his. So, he would try to appease, as it was entertaining for him, while his mind thought of new ways to unleash a sort of hell to those that had wronged him.

  “Now, why don’t you go lie down on the bed, and I can see what can be done.” He would approach this as with any task, setting his sights fully on the objective. This time, it would be to heal and repair, not tear with despair. Such a different way to look at things, and he was not going to dwell on that for too long…

two of the finest men in the universe in ONE PICTURE?

HE LOOKS SO GOOD

He needed to disinfect the wounds. The thought was there in his mind as he looked at the chunks that had been torn out of him. They looked burned, infected. The skin was red around them, aching. It hurt to feel the water against it, and it hurt worse to scrub the soap against it all. Still he did, a bit frantic in spite of the sounds coming from him. He needed to fix it, to try to combat the damage. He cursed as he was suddenly moved. It felt like a blanket wound about him, something soft from the dryer and close. He panted, set back to the floor as he stumbled. He looked down at his dripping body. His nudity. It wasn’t as if - Henry? Vecna? One? noticed. He just fumbled with a towel, drying himself shakily. He swallowed hard, looking a bit like a drowned dog as the man left the room. What was he supposed to wear? The question was there as he followed the other man, towel wound awkwardly around his narrow hips. The wounds were too many. How was he alive? Why was he drawn the way he was, needing to follow even without a damn word? He swallowed audibly as he stood there, watching the blond man. The man who wasn’t a man, but it was difficult to think of him as an abomination in these settings. Difficult to try to square it all in his foggy head. “Why did you let… me… live?” Eddie finally asked, hesitant. “I should be - looking at - at this -” He gestured to the chunk missing from above his hip. [ @vecnaaone ]

Henry paused upon hearing the other asking such a thing, and he turned to stare at him with a cold-but-curious expression on his face. He really did not mind the questioning, and was somewhat glad for it. There was a sweet distraction in taking the time needed to find an appropriate response. He would take this with as much care as he did in rebuilding the mansion, assessing the other’s form, seeing the missing chunks and his brows relaxed somewhat as he shrugged a shoulder up. “Well… why wouldn’t I? After all the fight you put up. Such heroics should not go wasted.”

He took a few steps closer, appraising the work it took to get him back into order, but he could see the distress in the other’s face. This made him hesitate, and his head tilted slightly to the side as he asked his own questions. “Does it bother you? Having yourself look that way…?” To that he could not blame him, knowing full well what sort of shame any kind of disfiguration could give onto anyone’s mind; even his own had gone through it, initially, whence his body turned and changed into the monster he had been, previously.

Unsure of what came over him, but he felt he need to gently run a few fingers over the most gruesome missing part, and found it intriguing that the other was even standing. Softly, his voice continued on as he did just that, careful to not go too deep into the wound. “I could help, if it is a hindrance for you…” Then he gazed into his eyes, once more, trying to find the answer there if he could see it. “To heal and make you whole, again… If that is your wish.”

“You’re right,” Eddie said and his voice dropped low. “I’m sorry.” He was here, but was he… himself. That was the question that was bothering him even now. He could feel the hunger gnawing in his stomach. He could feel the sensation of energy, of something flowing through his veins. It was a bit like a cocaine high. Anxiety. Energy. Need. He sniffed as he scratched at his arm a little, his elbow. He licked his lips as he looked down. Was he himself? He had no idea. Was this okay? He didn’t know that either. He just knew Vecna, the monster, was not so much Vecna. Was a young man. Was looking… good. Too good.

“I uh - yeah. I can do that. Yeah.” He shrugged out of his jacket and let it pool on the floor. He walked slowly, awkwardly as he fiddled with the rings on his hand and the bracelets. The watch. He set them down on the sink as he listened tot he house move around them. It creaked and cracked; it twisted a little as he stepped into the room that really shouldn’t have… been there. He shuddered as he looked where the mirror should be, but there was nothing there. He just shut his eyes, breathed. He stripped down then, listening to the house move around them as his clothes fell onto his boots. Torn clothes, clothes stiff with blood. His body wasn’t right as he looked down at it. Chunks were out of him, scarring over. Things felt weird, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know how or even why exactly he’d been brought back. He twisted on the faucet and stepped beneath the water, obligingly cleaning off and somewhat trusting he’d be left alone. He hissed as the water hit the deep gouge near his hip, something closer to a yelp coming from him as his hand rested against the tile wall. He waited, tried to wait the pain out. No, it wasn’t lessening. So he just stood there, hoping it would fade in time. It had to, right? He was still alive, so he had to be able to… deal with it, right?

[ @vecnaaone ]

Of course he had heard the noise, and it sent him out of his mild-trance. The house was fixed up enough, or so he thought, finding it odd that he even cared about something like that. Though, with how the two of them were, now, he felt a change was needed, as they had both experienced one. That, or it was a weakness he was not acknowledging just yet.

Quietly, he turned towards the room where the shower was, and went over to it. A step into the bathroom, and he saw the damage his beasts had done, to which he audibly tsk’d. “Now… clean as you are, you must not overwhelm yourself with pain.” His hand raised, and his power was wrapping carefully around the other’s torso, pulling and lifting him away from the shower’s scalding water. Another thought and he turned the faucet off, before turning sharply away to examine the room he had remade, allowing the other some small bit of privacy unintentionally while he gazed at the bed and broken windows.

  “Hmm…” Softly, he hummed, his thoughts not wanting to keep too long away from the other’s, which was also a strange feeling to him. “There will always be time for more of that… more pain.” His arms moved to his back, hands clasping together as he walked around the edge of the bed, waiting for the other to exit the bathroom, but he was speaking loud enough for him to hear through the open door.

  “Earlier, you asked if this was what I wanted. If this was enough.” He paused, having had this simmer in his mind for these few minutes. “Your compliance is wonderful, yes. I will admit that. Your companionship, perhaps even that… But… I still feel as though there is more work to be done. Those lingering fools that are so beneath me.” He was thinking about the one’s who almost thwarted his plans. The same plans that managed to prevail, even with their mishaps. “They should not be allowed to live… No one in that world should.”

GIVE MY MUSE A NICKNAME / PET NAME.