ＴＲＩＣＫ or ＴＲＥＡＴ

[mystxake-blog]

yulanjie:

      half-hearted. he wanted to keep this half-hearted. he knew the worst of them killed, sometimes enjoyed it, some tortured or downright slaughtered— but could he be even grouped with them? the way he sought torment, how he had wormed his way into families and systems just watch the faces of those who held them dear melting into terror because he was willing to turn with the snap of his fingers, the way he had treated so-called lovers and people who trusted him— the bloodlust, the violence, FLESH—- it never bothered him in particular, but he was realistic about who he was.       he tapped against the keyboard a few times, more to feign doing something above all else. ❝ you talk, i feel them, whatever. ❝ maybe he was right, maybe he was not. he did not want time to tell, did not want to wait for the day he would do SOMETHING and endure the way sam would look at him with perhaps less adoration than he did usually. ❝ i guess we’ll wait and see. ❝

     It was half his fault, in a way, this lack of full truth between them. It’s not as if he had LIED in any way, everything about his past that he had shared entirely true. That just wasn’t EVERYTHING. Vague hints maybe, but Sam had revealed hardly anything about his earlier years other than his lineage and the general discomfort he attached to it. Nothing about the why, not even a shadow of the decidedly darker half of his root personality. And maybe now wasn’t the time to share but Yulan was obviously worried about something if the mention of secrets was being brought up in any way, shape, or form. 

          SECRETS, Sam had plenty of.

     Silence stretched, only watching Yulan for a long moment, a moment spent debating whether now was the right time to share or not, and in the end, deciding that there likely never would be a right time for ANYTHING. He leaned back again, pulling his legs up onto the couch to cross before him and his gaze down turned when he swallowed. ❝It’s more than just talking to them,❝ he swallowed. ❝I caused the dark ages.❞

[mystxake-blog]

x | @m--artii

     ❝Just a question, you inconsiderate ass,❞ he huffed from around the edge of his glass, tone perhaps a little sharper than normal. Instead of glancing up, he only swirled his drink, one shoulder raised in a halfhearted shrug. ❝And fuck, as if ANY of us would want to be gods; life is already a headache enough as it is.❞ He frowned after a second thought, expression flickering up to Mark’s just as his shoe dug into the other’s ankle.

               ❝I told you not to call me that, damn it.❞

[navivida-blog]

Pᴏsᴛ Tᴇɴᴇʙʀᴀs Lᴜx || navivida & mystxake

[mystxake-blog]

navivida:

     “If we’re going to talk about rights then perhaps you should reevaluate my right to kick you out now.” Her tone was icy now as she tracked his movements. She didn’t dignify the movement with a shift of her own, choosing to appear as though she were giving him her back. Of course, she was hyper-focused on every move he made; she’d died one too many times at the hand of a stranger to justify actually ignoring him. A shift in her stance created an angle shift that allowed her to continue to maintain her distance and she crossed her arms.

     “But if it will help get you out of my hair, then I suppose I can indulge you. We’re here creating a space to allow free worship. Rome hasn’t quite caught on to the new edict that Christianity isn’t a crime anymore. These catacombs allow us to have privacy and a safe haven. At least, mostly.”

Her last comment was pointed, though even she wasn’t quite sure whether she was aiming it at the stranger or some of her own numbers, like Abrax. It seemed like trouble was pouring in from all sides these days. 

     ❝Oh sweetheart, I’d love to see you try,❞ was his snarky response though he made no move to push closer. Despite his unsurprising lack of what most referred to as ‘MORALITY,’ he could respect someone with enough guts to stand up for herself, a strength of spirit far more valuable than physical might in his mind at least. 

     He studied her at this distance, only really half listening to her ‘speech’ of sorts. Not overly tall for women of this age and rather lanky in a way, though that wasn’t overly surprising with how little some had to eat these days. Despite her drab clothes and messy hair, that strength was still there. Perhaps he’d keep an eye on this one for a while, see just what she had in store for what remained of the Roman Empire.

               ❝Ahh, you’re one of those. Well, I can’t fault you for that. Rome hasn’t exactly           been friendly towards those it considers different.❞ He would know. ❝So you, what,           hide away in the dark and just wait for things to get better? Might take more time           than you have.❞

[mystxake-blog]

Tʜᴇ Dᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏғ Iɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴄᴇ || navivida & mystxake

[mystxake-blog]

navivida:

Nat immediately shook her hands in front of her face, shaking her head emphatically.

     “Please don’t. I think there’s been quite enough of that today…this week. What day is it anyways?”

She didn’t tell him how crucial the number was to her, carefully hiding her desperation. She meticulously kept track of each death, sometimes down to the minute if she could manage it. Not exactly a healthy habit but she needed to have something to hold on to. Some proof of her experience. 

The proof she hadn’t expected this time was sitting across from her, looking entirely too calm. She wasn’t quite sure how he was able to remain so calm about this whole episode but she was pretty envious. She didn’t tend to be too stable after dying and even now she could feel what little grasp she had escaping her. It was so much to take in at once.

     It was a relief to know that he wouldn’t be required some barbaric form of suicide for her. While he, himself, was a scholar in part, there was a limit to what he was willing to do, even if it meant proving a point. Perhaps a few hundred years mentioning something so bluntly wouldn’t have been possible for him, but he’d gone through wars and slaughter, seen more death than anyone likely should, to a point where his own hardly phased him anymore, more an inconvenience than anything else. 

     Nat wasn’t like him, not in that regards and likely in many, many others. He could see the tension in her shoulders still, not yet sure how she was really taking all of this. He wasn’t even sure when her last death had BEEN, the experience possibly more traumatic than it would have been for him.

     Gently, he reached out to take one of her hands, guiding it back down to her lap with a small shake of his own head. ❝Relax, Nat. It’s only been three days. I made sure that no one saw either of us as well so you’re cover hasn’t been blown.❞

[mystxake-blog]

Tʜᴇ Dᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏғ Iɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴄᴇ || navivida & mystxake

[mystxake-blog]

navivida:

The tension immediately fell away into sheer shock. In all her time as an immortal, not once had she considered the possibility that there could be someone like her out there. Coming back from the dead wasn’t normal.

It took a moment for her to register the second half of his statement. Not only was he immortal, he was also older than her. A billion questions exploded into her already overloaded brain, bringing on the first splendid headache of her new life. Setting aside her mug with an enormous sigh, she crossed her legs in front of her and turned to face Sam more fully.

     “I have…so many questions. I don’t even know where to begin. I…I though I was alone.”

Alone. The word stung quite a bit. Typically she tried not to linger on that concept but it was true. For hundreds of years she’d had no one. It had taken no small measure of courage and desperation for her to allow Sam into her life. What on earth were the odds that he ended up being in the same situation as her?

     She didn’t know. He could feel the disappointment where it sank into his veins and wrapped around his chest, his exhale more drawn this time and carried on his tongue with a pang of sorrow. Finally, after over five HUNDRED years and it was another dead end. Maybe there wasn’t some secret trick to this all or any type of explanation for WHY they were they way the were but he wanted one desperately, and here Nat rest, just another question added to the pile. 

     A sudden exhaustion drove Sam to wipe at his face, fingers dragged over his features before settling into his lap once more. Later he would have the time to reflect over this more, but not now. Nat likely had just as many questions as he and he could at LEAST offer her what little he had. 

               ❝I never thought we were alone, but I’ll admit, you’re the first one I’ve met           as well. Immortality isn’t all the heretics make it out to be.❞

     He stared at her a long moment, studying the familiar features of a woman he had thought just as mortal as the rest of them, but she was here, breathing again from frozen lungs and once bruised and battered skin now glowing in new life. ❝Before the thought crosses your mine, please don’t ask me to prove it. I certainly heal faster than YOU do but it still hurts and the ache in my shoulders is always annoying.❞

[navivida-blog]

Pᴏsᴛ Tᴇɴᴇʙʀᴀs Lᴜx || navivida & mystxake

[mystxake-blog]

navivida:

The moment of victory she felt at Abrax’s retreat was swiftly replaced with a new discomfort as Natala realized that the stranger wasn’t leaving too. Admittedly, she should have anticipated it given his sardonic attitude. As he stepped closer she took an instinctive step back before catching herself and clenching her jaw. She didn’t want any signs of weakness showing now, not when she had no idea what to expect from this man. Instead she lifted her chin slightly and stared straight back at him.

     “It won’t be cold in one of the other chambers. You’ll be just fine elsewhere. In case it wasn’t clear, this spot is taken. And I have no patience for intruders tonight.”

This was the third time this week she’d been met with resistance in her own space and it was really starting to irritate her. There was plenty enough stress happening during her time above ground, she didn’t need it down here too. 

     Something about how she held herself was interesting, a strength and confidence that didn’t match her appearance or stature but BLAZED in the fire of her eyes. It was fascinating in a way, and while he still mourned the loss of his most recent toy, perhaps this one would prove more of a challenge, a puzzle to pick apart. 

     He only smirked at the step back, the instinct of the move something he was used to by this point. While he might not be as intimidating a sight as others may appear, anyone with enough self preservation would know when they were in the presence of a predator. And anyone with the right senses would see the strange shimmer around his form for the spirits of the dead they represented, a malevolence mutual in nature. 

     ❝Relax, princess, I’m not going to steal away your suite if that’s what you’re worried about.❞ He circled around her once, coming to a rest with arms folded behind his head before her once more. ❝You seem like a woman with a head on her shoulders though. Mind filling me in on what this hideout of yours is all about? If I’m going to be STAYING here, I believe I have that right.❞

[navivida-blog]

Pᴏsᴛ Tᴇɴᴇʙʀᴀs Lᴜx || navivida & mystxake

[mystxake-blog]

navivida:

–The chill of the stranger’s voice set all of Natala’s internal warnings off. Both men were wound tight and she could feel the violent anger building in Abrax. It was something she never enjoyed experiencing, making her tense in her own right. Hoping to put on a brave face, she replied caustically, 

     “I can certainly point you elsewhere, given that this patch of filth does not belong to either of you. You’ll do better to find a vacancy outside. Fighting is not welcome here.” 

Her sharp stare shifted to Abrax and she continued what was becoming something of a rant. Her exhaustion had shifted into a disgust at having to deal with the situation, and thankfully his anger wasn’t pointed at her at the moment.

     “As you well know Abrax, your activities are not welcome here. You can take your nonsense elsewhere before I make you.”

The threat was all talk; she couldn’t force him to do anything. She hoped his injured pride would tip things in her favor and she could get him out. With any luck, the stranger would follow to finish whatever he’d started, away from anyone who could get hurt. 

     There was something of a HIGH he found in interacting with mortals, most sad excuses of flesh with a short fuse and even shorter lifetime. He found pleasure in the cracks of defenses and the whiplash of emotional output directed his way ( most notably rage and despair; they were his favorites after all ). It was entertaining to push until a breaking point was found, whether that be mental or the equally as satisfying SNAP of bones under force. It was not what he had hunted for this night but more a pleasant surprise found in the girth of a man nearly twice his size and a tenth his intellect. 

          And this strange woman was ruining his fun.

     Sam’s expression twisted, the grin yet alive but his eyes decidedly cooler than they were even a moment before, not that it made too much of a difference. Still, with Abrax the picture of sheepish embarrassment and shame now, a skulking figure of his back instead of his fist, he was left with only one other alternative. 

               ❝You chased away my fun. That’s hardly nice,❞ he bemoaned, smile replaced           with something very much akin to a pout instead as he moved closer. ❝-- and now           you’re trying to kick me out into the cold as well? Well, what if I say no?❞

[mystxake-blog]

REPOST and bold what your muse can do!

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give cpr | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive / calligraphy | use an electric drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump-start a car | roll their tongue | do magic tricks (actual magic) | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read Morse code | pick a lock

tagging: fite me

[mystxake-blog]

yulanjie:

      it would make NO sense to say that he was still clinging to a time when showing weakness meant it would be exploited in a heart-beat but he felt like his mind was leaning towards that explanation. he had no control over himself, not fully anyway, and he knew one day he would do SOMETHING he did not want to that would hurt sam just as it had been the case with valentine. the difference was the look in sam’s face, that he managed to make him feel like he was not simply adoring someone who could not give back no matter what he did but someone who looked at him the same way yulan did at him.        childish. at his age, such thoughts? he huffed softly, eyes not once turning from his screen, trying to find its relevance again so he could focus on something else. ❝ i don’t have any sob stories to tell, just shit i fucked up. i’m a bit more fucked up than your average freak. ❝

      Over the years he had learned to read people, little signs and motions enough to reveal thoughts and emotions otherwise hidden, tiny nuances that told stories as easily as ink upon paper. Harder to read someone that had just as much time ( even more in fact ) to learn those same signs and manipulate them in his own way though. There was TENSION ( obviously ), but the reason behind such was unclear to Sam as of yet, snatching his full attention and leaving concern to tug at the downturn of his lips. 

     Slowly, he moved, legs twisted to rest against the floor instead of the couch so as to allow him to sit up and face Yulan, glancing briefly from his face to the laptop and back again. ❝And I’m not? I talk to the dead and they talk back. You’re still here despite that. If you’re worried about something happening, I think we’re both strong enough to get through it.❞

[mystxake-blog]

yulanjie:

      he was COMPOSED in his own way. there was literally control he had over himself, but his needs and urges had an order few could rival. if there was something he did not want, he would NOT have it— and the other way around. if he did not want to feel drawn by sam’s fingers alone, swept along within seconds. he was down to his shirt soon, vest flung aside, attention drawn to the warm touches by his hips, a new level of obedience originating from exhaustion and aggravation that were pushed aside so easily, their place taken by sam’s presence alone. ❝ just you, ❝ came a low murmur in response, too caught up in watching him, listening to him, for any kind of smug response. 

     Control was not something Sam necessarily CRAVED but it was nice in certain situations, the freedom to take things at his own pace seldom granted. At at time when everything was so fast pace, responsibilities and worries a constant demand on his person, he wanted things SLOW again. His fingertips barely grazed against his lovers skin, a brush of touch along the hem of his pants to trace along the lines of his hips. ❝You have me,❞ he breathed out against his neck. ❝My lips, my touch,❞ his fingers slipped into the belt loops of his trousers, tugging him closer ❝-- anything and everything, I’m all yours.❞

[mystxake-blog]

yulanjie:

@mystxake

      sat by the table with his laptop, there truly were better things for him to be doing. some work for adrian, some minor research, the usual time wasted on the internet— there was enough. still, he had chosen to be in thought and voice them. the more he thought about it the clearer it became that it sometimes felt like they were working too well. there were some things on his mind that had been unspoken and it created an illusion of perfection that felt far too fickle to him. he never liked perfection, found it suspicious with valentine, too, and he had had every right. it did not fit, did not WORK no matter how badly he had wanted it to. for all the cold, ruthless behaviour he was still prone to emotions, to sadness and loneliness.

      it was the TRUTH. sam was not the source of his fear, it was the same fear that showed up every single time he moved towards another death, it was not bound to him specifically. the only thing that he feared from him was that he would ruin it AGAIN, that somehow, he would do or say the one bad thing, or that he would betray him as he had so many and refuse to clear the situation properly out of pride and his own hurt. who assumed that the one cheating could be equally as HURT by it at the other?

      “well, ” he began, eyes set on his laptop, the screen meaningless but a distraction nevertheless. “ — there’s a bunch of stuff you don’t know about me, i guess. people don’t hang around for a good reason. ”

     There was still a tension that swam beneath his skin but it was lessened now, dulled in shock and a sweep of confusion that had his brows furrowed, his lips pressed thin for lack of a fitting expression. A fear towards himself he was USED to, the ache a familiar one but not one he was unaccustomed to dealing with. Relationships in the past were brief, fleeting things aside from the one exception, the lives of mortals too short to linger for long. This was the first time there was the opportunity for something lasting and while he had tasted the bitter edge of that fear, perhaps it wasn’t as bad on his end as the other’s. 

     He pushed himself up, his place in his story forgotten and set aside, instead turning onto his side to face Yulan more properly. ❝Yulan,❞ he voiced softly. ❝I haven’t exactly shared everything about myself either. We’re not exactly normal, all things considered. There’s no rush.❞

[mystxake-blog]

" no--- that's not right. i'm not afraid of YOU, i'm afraid /i'll/ give you a reason, that i'll fuck this up. "

     His breath escaped all at once, his exhale sharp on the edge surprise even if his gaze still bore into the book before him, no longer processing any of the inked words. Somewhere in his thoughts he had already accepted the possibility of fear, or at the very least uneasiness, a method of mentally preparing himself for what had become a fairly common place reaction once anyone discovered what he could do. Yulan himself had mentioned the uneasiness so he thought himself aware. To have that initial assumption denied was enough to leave him frozen, fingertips white where the pressed against the spine of parchment, digging into the dulled edges. 

     Aware that Yulan had continued speaking, it still took a moment to make his way over the first mental hurdle to the next, his lips parted on a silent ❝Oh,❞ and stuck there. He wasn't afraid of him then? That was -- well, different and not in a bad way. The rush of relief staggered him, shoulders sagging under the weight and leaning back against the couch cushion to prevent himself from losing balance. ❝That -- oh,❞ he repeated, dropping the book into his lap and finally turning to actually glance at his lover.

               ❝Why would you be afraid of that?❞

[mystxake-blog]

" you won't just run off without talking to me like you did because of Val again, will you? "

     Running away was, admittedly, something he was good at. He ran away from his problems, from memories and unnecessary complications, from spirits that proved too much of a hassle, from interactions with mortals that would only die in a few decades and leave him alone again. In THAT situation, it was running from loss before it could catch him, a gross misunderstanding but still terrifying in it’s own way to pick apart his own walls brick by brick only to be faced with the possibility of not just an emotional leak but a FLOOD. So he ran, dove into another terror instead to hide and in the end was dragged back out regardless. 

     That was near the start of this all though and he had changed ( at least a little ), no longer worried about losing this new attachment. So, it was with confidence when he glanced at Yulan this time, his smile soft and genuine. 

              ❝No. You’re rather stuck with me by now.❞

[mystxake-blog]

" sometimes I'm scared of you, doesn't mean I don't love you, though. "

     It hurt, in a way, to hear that, but the words didn’t come entirely unexpected. In this year, in this LIFE, he considered himself softer than before, more isolated obviously but for reason. His days of war were behind him, the smoke and the gunfire and so many, many deaths. Even worse that long stretch of time where he was as much a spirit as a living soul, trapped in a circle of hate and disgust that brought so many to their knees and only a smile to his lips in turn, a time when possession was almost WELCOME as it provided a brief escape from his own makings of hell. 

     Fear was once something that he thrived on, a source of fuel to crackle under his skin. Food not for him, but for the malevolent spirits that took advantage of pain and rage and made it their own. After that it was something akin to agony, a reminder of what he had done and what he could do. Even now, when he was using that same affinity to do some good, here he was, still unsettling people, even those closest to him. It was partially why he kept to himself, why he kept what he could do as HIDDEN as possible. Because rejection ( in any form ) hurt, especially when it came to a part of himself that he couldn’t control.

     He smiled, rereading the same line of his book for perhaps the fifth time, well aware that the expression likely wasn’t as easy as it should be. ❝Yeah,❞ he responded,❝I’m used to that.❞

[mystxake-blog]

" stop locking door. i don't care why, don't lock them again. ever. "

               ❝I still need to lock the front door but yeah... I won’t. Sorry...❞

[mystxake-blog]

" what are YOU afraid of? "

     ❝Drowning,❞ came as second nature, on his tongue before the question had fully settled in his mind. That was the easy answer, but not the one that had given him the most trouble. He sighed, running fingers through his hair, eyes on the clock. ❝Betrayal, possession, hospitals, chains...,❞ he continued before another pause. He frowned at the clock. ❝Time, decapitation, emotional attachment, tight spaces.❞ 

     Fear was something simple, unnecessary in a way and necessary in another. Live long enough and they multiply instead of diminishing. He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, reaching out to turn the clock off.

              ❝Mostly myself.❞

[mystxake-blog]

tcciturnity:

      IT WAS A DOG EAT DOG KIND of world. she had tried to eat him, he had thought about eating her. she could not have blamed either of them had they made a different decision and YET, the ragged breaths of relief that left her upon hearing an answer should tell them enough about her motivation to live. there WERE things to fight for in this world, after all. she was not away from danger quite yet but it was a START, even if it meant being in someone’s hands for a while. it wasn’t like she had anything else these days, not with her memories gone and the only consistency being her job.       his proposal was met with a hesitant glance his way, her head soon shaking and curled fingers motioning down her stomach— signing her lack of hunger. the cloth she would take— something to cool her bruised skin would be desirable, too, though for the time being, she decided to slowly shifted and drag herself towards the nearest wall for a sense of safety, a sense of nothing coming from behind to harm her for just a little while.

    Decision made, it was easier ( in a way ) to ease himself into a calmer state now. There was still a threat, but it would remain unknown and that was unlikely to change no matter what happened to her in the end. He could trust in Yulan’s judgement on this manner and leave it at that. Her relief, while expected, had an equal effect on his own person as well, the brief pang of regret enough to have Sam wince when he rose to his feet. He would not apologize, not when he had yet to receive one either, but he might have felt just a little bit bad.

     ❝No food then, alright,❞ he repeated, hoping that he guessed the meaning of her gesture properly. The clock ticked by five seconds, then ten before he finally sighed, turning towards the kitchen with a shake of his head. ❝I’ll get you that rag, probably the first aid kit as well.❞ The ‘ don’t do anything stupid ‘ went unsaid as he turned, retreating to the bathroom only to return a moment later with the damp cloth and a familiar box ( more used recently than he’d like ). He took a seat once more, a little closer this time and the rag outstretched. 

          ❝Do you need me to reset your hand?❞