#(arackniss.)

"After all these years, there are still matches...

It has been many nights since Arackniss showed up at the hotel, all but mangled and hanging on to his afterlife by a thread. He has been through a surgery, heaps of medications and much more.

And he is finally stable now.

Pentious is doing a few rudimentary checks on the Sinner, concentrating well until Arackniss inches closer and hides his face against his neck..

For a moment, the serpent doesn't do anything, but then he wraps his arms around Arackniss' slight frame. It's a position easy to slip into.

Three bingos and yet they hadn't lasted. What a waste of compatibility! But patience and affection were more than important for Pentious... As was flying. Hmm.

Pentious glances back at Arackniss in the middle of their predicament, dryly.

Unfortunately, it had turned out that their heist at this particularly fancy crime-web party hadn't been a unique idea. Before they had been able to put their plan into action, a far less elegant group of ruffians had opened fire right in the dining hall, sending everyone into either panic or into a counter-attack of their own. Bullets had been exchanged, Molotov cocktails had been improvised and dining tables had been turned into barricades from the fire.

And Sir Pentious and Arackniss, prepared with far less ammunition than such a turn of events required, had been forced to evacuate themselves into a pantry on the basement floor for the unforeseeable future. There they still were.

"I cannot see how that would make our predicament any better," Pentious says. Arackniss is taking their current situation far too lightly, he thinks. They are effectively stuck around piles of hanging herbs, canned vegetables, meat and bottled beverages until the still audible sounds of fighting cease from the upper floor and they can safely retreat. And whenever that will be, will be far too late and will ensure that they escape with their pockets entirely empty. They could already be at home, counting their loot and giggling about their win, but no. Days of planning, wasted!

But, that also means they have nowhere to go. Nothing to do. And nothing but time.

"...I can't see how it would make things any worse, though," he adds, his hood flirtatiously tossed over his shoulder, so that all too-tight and constricting suit collar becomes visible. Perhaps he curves that long spine of his just a tad pointedly as well. A little smirk greets Arackniss' many eyes.

the  streets  run  rampant  with  the  blood  of  sinners,  and  arackniss  hates  the  color  of  sir  pentious’. he  hopes  he’s  never  put  pen  through  this,  in  the  countless  deaths  he’s  suffered  at  hell’s  hands.  he  hopes  pentious  has  never  seen  arackniss’  body,  cold  and  frail  under  smoldering  rubble.  he  hopes  he’s  never  had  to  wrench  him  out  of  the  wreckage,  scrabbling  and  clawing  until  his  hands  were  torn  and  bloody.  he  hopes  he’s  never  had  to  pick  up  pieces  for  him  in  the  wounded  fog  arackniss  now  finds  himself  in. he  delivers  pentious’  body  home.  sponges  off  any  blood  and  dirt.  tucks  him  into  bed.  locks  the  door  to  stave  off  any  overly-curious  eggs.  he  revisits  the  scene  and  reclaims  anything  too  important  to  abandon.  he  makes  all  the  eggs  dinner  and  picks  at  his  own,  unable  to  eat  on  a  churning  stomach,  and  he  makes  the  dreaded  phone  call  to  his  father. someone  died.  he  needs  time. the  ensuing  shouting  match  riles  up  the  eggs,  and  he  calms  them  down  with  a  movie  before  bed.  he  reassures  them  when  they  ask  why  they’re  sleeping  in  the  guest  room  tonight  (  boss’s  sick.  we  don’t  sleep  with  people  when  they’re  sick  )  and  doesn’t  cry  when  their  small,  warm  bodies  crowd  him  in  the  bed. he  doesn’t  cry  at  all  the  whole  week.  isn’t  that  something  to  be  proud  of,  pen? by  the  time  he  hears  stirring  in  the  main  bedroom,  it’s  been  too  long.  arackniss  is  exhausted.  he  hasn’t  eaten  much,  and  he’s  slept  even  less,  and  he’s  still  been  running  errands  for  pops  between  spells  at  the  house,  babysitting  an  army  of  eggs.  but  still,  he  runs  at  the  sound,  crashing  through  the  door  before  pentious  has  time  to  know  he’s  there. “  fucking  christ  !”  he  barks,  because  that’s  the  first  thing  that  comes  to  his  lips  -  it  had  to  fight  past  all  the  I  love  you’s  and  other  sweet  words  to  get  there.  “jesus,  penny,  it’s  okay!” storming  the  bed,  he  tugs  Pentious’  head  into  his  lap,  shaking  hands  running  gingerly  over  his  hood.  he  doesn’t  want  to  hurt  him,  but  he  needs  to  calm  him  down  -  desperately,  he  plants  a  kiss  to  the  top  of  pentious’  head,  then  another  to  his  cheek,  rocking  the  two  of  them  ever  so  gently. “you’re  back.  you’re  back,  baby,  you’re  breathing.  please  come  back  to  me  …  “

At some point Pentious recognises that his nightmare is over, but his body needs more reassurance, still fueled by suddenly released adrenaline. Arackniss' voice sounds distant and drowns within his own guttural pleas and heavy breaths. But Pentious recognises that he is there, so close to him, there to save him.

"Nisssss," he sobs, wildly trembling claws searching for any surface of the other Sinner. He needs to touch him, he needs to hold onto him. Arackniss is his only lifeline, only he can pull him back from his curse.

A black stain running down his chin and chest and tasting foul in his mouth is evidence of his body having released the death from his body in the form of still, ashened and infected blood and other bodily liquids. He shudders and sobs all over again, not only from panic, but from embarrassment. How severely, how disgustingly must he have soiled himself in the wake or his demise? In what pitiful state did his lover have to see him? The turf ambush someone begun out of nowhere, they hadn't had time to prepare, how much area had they lost because Pentious went and blew up?

"The- the engines, s-sssss-someone launched a missile, I- I dinnut- I didn't notice, I was so sssstupid" he sobs, so ashamed of himself that his nausea returns.

Love is in the air! (Accepting!)

"Do not worry now, I have been told this one is giggling good fun!" Pentious assured before he even brought out the case of a brand new VHS-tape. It was a copy of a recent human film by the name of "Love at First Bite".

It was no gangster movie for sure; but it was based on the horrifying classic. And it was Valentine's Day. Surely a little romance could not go wrong?

Pentious allowed a minion to take the tape whilst he himself arranged a variety of treats in front of the sofa he and Arackniss were to lounge on. After that, the serpent sat down next to the spider, pulling the heft of his tail up so it could coil over Arackniss' thin frame. He leaned against the Sinner, cheek pressing into the fur on his neck.

"...But if it is insssssufferable, I did just replenish my ssstock."

Pentious dug into his breast pocket and pulled out a tiny silver box. His own emblem was carved on its surface. It was certainly a familiar sight to Arackniss, alongside the tiny ornate spoon and the white powder inside it.

My muse must tell the truth for 10 asks. (4/10)

"What did I ever see in Arackniss? Hell's bells, what didn't I see?

I saw someone so broken under pressure and responsibility that he was almost insufferable to be around. I saw so many insecurities, so many fears hidden under a scalding temper and bravado. Saw someone who tried his hardest at every given point.

I saw a sssweet person underneath that. I saw how carefully he tried to shield me from it all, and how he allowed himself to let his walls down for small, fleeting moments. I saw someone sensitive, protective and cute. His words didn't always match his actions, but I never had to guess what he really meant. I saw someone I understood, sometimes more than anyone else.

The Five Senses. (Accepting!)

It was bad enough that Niss appeared so suddenly that Pentious had no time nor knowledge to prepare for seeing him. It was even worse that the spider caught him fresh out of the shower, after a whim of rinsing himself with products left behind by him ages ago.

And the worst thing was that he had leant his cute face so close to Pentious that he could smell his own body wash on his flustered scales and pointed it out.

"I-," Pentious sputtered, feeling his face grow even hotter than it had from the shower's steam. He pulled his jacket on tighter, hugged the fabric closer to his skin as if it could conceal the scent. As if it could still be denied, somehow.