LORD OF FLAMES & NIGHTMARES.

closed group rp.

[druiigs]

do you have a favorite place that the eternals have ever settled in at any point?

“can’t say that i have. ‘m pretty happy with things where they are now though.”

[maya-hawke]

BARRY KEOGHAN as DRUIG Eternals (2021) dir. Chloé Zhao

[druiigs]

“it wasn’t a cult, alright? it was - more of a, uh - a commune.”

[druiigs]

@mkkaris

it’s over. despite every corner of the universe seeming to protest their decision, they did it. managed to stop the emergence.

and sersi? turned a celestial to stone.

what that means for the future of the planet and the human race? no one can say for sure just yet, but druig isn’t concerned about the future anymore, only the here and now - the psionic blast wound on makkari’s torso, and his own pounding headache.

his reunion with makkari is tender, but brief as they’re joined by the remaining others and a discussion of ikaris’ fate - as well as sprite’s - begins to take place.

druig pulls makkari aside, and the duo half walks, half trips over to a large rock by the shoreline to rest. he stops short however, letting go of makkari and choosing instead to take a seat ( if it can even be called that ) atop the sand, the material much denser and harder than he’s expecting as his body connects with the ground.

suddenly very thankful that sersi managed to be the one to stop tiamut, and it didn’t rely more prominently on his own abilities druig can’t help but be aware of how close he had come to invading the newborn celestial’s mind.

well, he had technically, but only for a few moments - until ikaris pummeled him into the ground beneath the emergence point.

but it was enough to have some sort of an effect on the telepathic eternal.

there’s a harsh thrumming emanating from somewhere back in his brainstem, or behind the eyes, or, or — who the hell knows where, but god does it fucking hurt. before makkari has a chance to say anything to him, he flops backwards against the ground and onto his back, sand in his hair, and eyes sliding shut.

“you’re okay - y’r okay — please be okay,” he mumbles, accent tripping over the vowels as it feels suddenly all too heavy in his mouth.

[mkkarisarchive]

druiigs​:

and what a beautiful, beautiful seven thousand years it’s been.

the telepathic eternal is stonefaced delivering the reply, but the moment makkari’s hands move to wrap around his own, walls are dropped — a bit more emotion leeching out.

the comment about his cult doesn’t go unnoticed though, but just as quickly as he contemplates commenting on it, makkari has already moved on.

and he will too.

are you surprised? he signs, even with her hands still intertwined with his own. the words are stated in conjunction with a telepathic emphasis, in case his signing is too clunky, too hard to understand, but druig knows from experience makkari prefers it this way.

it’s this reason he made sure to keep the knowledge fresh for millennia.

even the parts we were apart. she returns the side with one quick hand. i needed that tablet. it took a century to hunt down. i though you’d like it.

babylon felt like yesterday. the cocky raise of his chin, her returning the motion. druig never makes her feel anything but tingly as of late, like she’s perpetually vibrating. this time, she can’t restrain herself. there’s gold in the air and she’s beside him again with a box of twinkies.

for you. they’re old, but they never expire. like us.

how sad, to be a robot creation that could be compared to a twinkie. makkari wasn’t as mad as some of the others but she hasn’t clocked druig’s reaction yet. his hand is cold in her warm one, fingers long and perfect for signing once he hits a rhythm with it. the times he uses telepathy remains the only time she hears, and the words don’t always make sense without his explanation. it feels foreign, invasive. she would hate it if it wasn’t his touch.

raising his knuckles to her lips, makkari casts a mischievous look over the white hand. druig, she makes a ball at her temple before extending her fingers outwards to sign his name. i though it lost you. i was… she paused, ikaris nearly killed me, but we thought he got you. i screamed. i hadn’t done that before.

[druiigs]

druig examines the box with brows raised in mild surprise and intrigue. receiving gifts isn’t something the eternal does often — or well, for that matter, but he’s gracious regardless - even if makkari’s comment does leave a sourness in the pit of his stomach.

he pushes that feeling down however, burying it beneath a host of other problems and unchecked feelings he’s chosen to suppress. they’re distinctly human emotions, this cacophony of grief, sadness, anger, and betrayal - the longer he can go without experiencing them, the better.

he tucks the box of twinkies beneath one arm, his free hand moving to touch fingertips against lips, in the familiar gesture for thank you.

but just as he’s beginning to relax once more in her presence, their fight is brought up, his near deadly — er, squabble - with ikaris. he doesn’t blame her, doesn’t shut down again ( as much as the urge to do so arises ). instead he takes makkari’s hands in his own and returns her earlier gesture, bringing her knuckles up to his lips, before letting go again to respond to her with hesitant, wary gestures.

i’m not going anywhere. i promise.

[mkkarisarchive]

druiigs​:

despite the ease of communication between the two that sometimes occurred as a result of druig’s telepathy, there was something so much more intimate about speaking to makkari without it.

watching deft fingers shape her words before his gaze shifted to the rock in her hands, druig couldn’t help the smirk and slight chuckle in amusement before his own hands moved to sign his reply.

is this your way of telling me i’ve got a terrible personality?

moving to gently take the artifact from makkari’s grasp, druig examined the object for a moment, his thumb running over the smooth stone.

“more treasure for your horde,” another smirk punctuated his remark, the expression much softer this time, “pretty soon you’re going to run out of room in here.”

i’ve known you for 7000 years.

longer, actually, but her memory was limited due to arishem and his eternity spanning plan that rendered the eternals as pawns to be used again and again. it wasn’t like sersi & ikaris who had barely became conscious before instantly locking eyes. makkari had gotten to know druig over time and that time and familiarity had drawn her to him. even though hundreds of human lifespans had passed since they had last seen each other they had fallen into a rhythm once more.

i like your personality, but i never saw your cult.

her foot tapped, gold streaking off the blurred body part as she struggled to not get lost in the movement entirely. he was stillness where she was motion; a quiet lake with depth vs a rushing river. maybe that was why they worked. setting the stone down beside her, makkari’s lips quirked to the side before she took druig’s hand and slowly bent his fingers into a sign.

you didn’t forget over time. all the eternals seemed to remember, but his was the most satisfying. did you practice because you missed me?

[druiigs]

and what a beautiful, beautiful seven thousand years it’s been.

the telepathic eternal is stonefaced delivering the reply, but the moment makkari’s hands move to wrap around his own, walls are dropped — a bit more emotion leeching out.

the comment about his cult doesn’t go unnoticed though, but just as quickly as he contemplates commenting on it, makkari has already moved on.

and he will too.

are you surprised? he signs, even with her hands still intertwined with his own. the words are stated in conjunction with a telepathic emphasis, in case his signing is too clunky, too hard to understand, but druig knows from experience makkari prefers it this way.

it’s this reason he made sure to keep the knowledge fresh for millennia.

[mkkarisarchive]

@druiigs​

it was hard to sit still. always so, so hard with the echoing silence that constructed her life. makkari was used to it. the hundreds of years she had spent alone on the domo had been intermittent with trips into the world to steal and plunder. she had built herself a nest – now, she was no longer alone.

did i show you this one? her hands spelled words and painted pictures before she held up the ( borrowed artifact ). it reminded me of you. very cold. dark. a nice piece of stone. her smile substituted a laugh. a beautiful, beautiful rock.

[druiigs]

despite the ease of communication between the two that sometimes occurred as a result of druig’s telepathy, there was something so much more intimate about speaking to makkari without it.

watching deft fingers shape her words before his gaze shifted to the rock in her hands, druig couldn’t help the smirk and slight chuckle in amusement before his own hands moved to sign his reply.

is this your way of telling me i’ve got a terrible personality?

moving to gently take the artifact from makkari’s grasp, druig examined the object for a moment, his thumb running over the smooth stone.

“more treasure for your horde,” another smirk punctuated his remark, the expression much softer this time, “pretty soon you’re going to run out of room in here.”