#driflyon

My drifter, Atelier, pronouns he/they.

Lyon's plagued by visions. His fist coming down hard on the wood top of the altar and he's muttering to himself beneath his breath, digging his nails hard enough into the surface that he can't tell what's splintering in the darkness. It's late, he's pretty sure Marie has fallen asleep floating over in her corner, and Roathe has half curled into himself to try to get even the slightest bit of shut eye. And the drifter shows up. Pink hair is the only thing he can focus on as the man walks toward him, strutting in with new holes in his jacket and muddy bandages tied around his denim jeans. He seems unharmed, or at the very least, unphased. The drifter's prosthetic hand finds the priest's back, and he leans in, muttering something half lucid - almost like he's asleep on his feet. But what comes out of the drifter's mouth is some smash up combination of sounds that don't really make a lot of sense when interpreted as a functional sentence. And Lyon really has to question if that statement about the logistics of feeding pizza to horses was something that was supposed to come out of Atelier's mouth or if it was supposed to be something that actually made sense with the gentle affection of the cool metal against his scarred skin.

And obviously. Lyon can't make heads nor fucking tails of it. Why is the drifter talking about folding up pizza into fake-calzones and diluting them in water to make them softer for the horses teeth. And the fact that horses are supposedly omnivores - an uncomfortable fact he learnt from Lettie in the first place - and would probably appreciate a meat pizza. Lyon is just utterly baffled. Atelier takes the confusion and only serves to further it because the man is so exhausted he doesn't care what he's talking about and he mentions something about feeding fried eggs to chickens, then kisses Lyon's cheek. It's stupid and weird but it grounds the priest enough to realise that hey, what the fuck, and he takes a breath bit sure whether or not this fiend is going to say anything else that'd give him nightmares of a different sort. He's certain he's going to dream about horses and liquified pizza. He's about to say something but the drifter shuts him up by dropping the bombshell of the fact blenders exist and he may randomly blend some food for the priest to sample. And Lyon just fucking loses it. The drifter grins like he's won something as Lyon bows against him, his hands wrapping around the priest.