LEAVE ME ALONE.

indie peter lukas of the magnus archives . written by zick. please read rules before interacting. header by tempist.

[sealone]

it’s odd, really. you each think you’re so focused on the other, but how much do you really know each other? how much time have you spent together when not working, or bickering, or fleeing from that latest thing that wants to kill you?

so. what are you seeking? the image you’ve each created of the other?

the people you think you love don’t exist. not really. and that’s a very lonely place to be.

[crosscursed]

oh yeah, i'm a reaper man; every good thing i kill it dead.

[bulletblessed]

you want to go back to where you felt safe (to hear your brother's laughter, see your mother's face) ;; your childhood home is just powder white bones & you'll never find your way back —— @bulletblessed ; a study in difficult moral choices, surviving the past & to keep the ability to see the good in things via vash the stampede of the trigun series, shot by jonah.

[crosscursed]

oh yeah, i'm a reaper man; every good thing i kill it dead.

[sealone]

anyway i am back on my bullshit of big sad men with religious trauma

[sealone]

h. hello

[sealone]

WHERE IS SHE, ALEX.

[sealone]

' it’s not you, it’s me. i have standards. ' offers u a little shit

@bloodbaptized

"DON'T WORRY! I know it has nothing to do with me." He smiles, but on the inside he is already partially regretting agreeing to this. He isn't really keen on transporting passengers on the Tundra, even less so when it happens to be another in service of a fear, but he has enough honor to pay back a favor when the time is due, no matter how much he might dislike it. At least it will be only for a week, ten days at most - and then it will all be done. It only somewhat makes it easier, though.

"The Tundra isn't equipped for passengers aside from the crew, so offering you a better cabin is impossible. I am sure you'll understand." They are lucky it's a spare one and a few members of the crew are missing, otherwise they wouldn't have even been let on board. The idea of making them sleep with the others didn't even cross Peter's mind - not when he looked at this one and saw blood-like mist clinging to their body, wrapped around limbs and neck and waist like a serpent ready to uncoil itself and attack. He would rather avoid casualties not caused by his own hunger.

He claps his hands together, standing on the threshold of the cabin. "Oh, and one more thing! As much as I understand that you have your own needs, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't touch any of my crew members. It would make the journey much more complicated than it should be." He hopes they do perceive it as a threat. He hopes they store that knowledge all the way deep inside their bones.

[sealone]

"the gods have once again underestimated the power of nasty transgender sex" - @instituteled , right now

[sealone]

i like weird tales , & they never trouble me .

@instituteled

"I DON'T doubt it, but there are even weirder tales that you could never find in your books." He is teasing, indulging the younger man even. Peter stares at him and wonders if he could truly stomach some of the events he witnessed throughout the decades - tales tied so tightly to an artefact he travelled with from the other side of the world, people he shook hands with that could barely be called people anymore. The great, empty desperation of the Lonely. Terrors beyond mankind's imagination. Now, if Jonah has talked to Robert as many times as he claims he could have a better idea of how weirdness is often laying in daylight, but he doubts it will stop from asking further. He soaks up recounts and stories like one eats food after days of starvation.

A Watcher through and through. Even if he doesn't know yet.

"I might tell you about them, some time."

[instituteled]

MR. LUKAS.

     ”NO NEED to apologize. I think the last time I was here you weren’t an employee yet. I’m not really keen of showing my face around too much.“ Mostly because he knows James knows how to run this place without any help - as expected after doing the same job for almost two centuries - but also because social interactions are a necessary but unwelcome task for him most of the time. He can make an exception now for his own gain (and hunger, that trail of smoke coiled all around his insides that asks for more and more and more and he will never deny it a meal), and indirectly for James as well. They are nothing more than business partners , but maybe he will leave Peter in peace for a while if he does him this tiny favor.

     “Good! Just what I needed!” Now, if he were a fan of physical contact he’d wrap his arm around Elias’ shoulders and steer him away from James’ office, but that would be a bit too much to ask of him. Easy to replace it with a friendly, cheerful attitude.

     “See, Elias, as I said I haven’t been here in a while, and even if I trust James to run this place smoothly I would actually like to see it at work. See if there are any additional changes to make that might have escaped his notice.” Impossible. But the boy will never know. “I am sure he’d excuse you from your current tasks to give me a tour of Artefact Storage and the Archives.”

     Dʀᴇᴀᴅ sɪᴛs in deep and tight in his chest. He might not be all too well in anything, really, regarding social interactions, but he knows well enough to be aware that he’s in quite an awful situation. He’s not quite sure whether or not he’s meant to be doing anything like what the man suggested (it’s never been explicitly said, anyway, thus making it hard to tell), but he does know that he should be doing a lot of other things in fact that he will get into trouble for delaying too far. On the other hand, he wouldn’t know how to say no, no matter how uncomfortable the suggestion makes him. People don’t usually ask him for anything but basic mindless tasks or such that are busy work — either don’t seem to think him important or competent enough — and that’s how he prefers it. The idea of having to play host in any capacity —

     But he realizes with a start that he’s been mulling it over for too long, and there is no good reason why he could say no. After all, it’s already been established that he doesn’t currently have anything else (a long to do list, yes, but not a right now thing) and his mind draws a blank at trying to find a good excuse.

     "I’m, I’m sure there’s uh, more knowledgeable people — someone who’s more up to date on current things — ” But it’s weak protest, easy to ignored entirely, and he knows it well.

[sealone]

HE PAYS no mind if it takes the boy a little longer to reply, a friendly but firm smile plastered on his face all the while. Gentle pressure can work so much better than power and money. True, authority is involved to a certain degree as well here, but he would bet his own life that the indecision in Elias' eyes has little to do with the knowledge that one misstep might cut off funds for good. (Not that it will ever happen. He might tease James about it when he is being particularly noisy, but it's a threat he has never truly taken into consideration.)

"I am sure there is! But, well, in my experience those are rarely the people that actually know how to navigate their workplace. Too focused on the big picture and their own goals to notice the cracks in the ceiling or the rats in the Archive. Even worse -" He lights up, as if he just had a brilliant realization. "They would pretend everything runs smoothly so they won't have to worry about problems being fixed and potentially ruining their own plans! No, who I want is someone who knows just enough to be honest about it."

He takes off his coat and folds it over his forearm, revealing strings of tattoos running over his uncovered skin. Lines and designs that could almost, almost seem to be pulsating and almost rolling like fog in the morning.

"Now, shall we start?"

[instituteled]

Oғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ he's gone mad: long ago, long before the other man was alive, long before age had taken even hold of him even the first time: and more so by the second time.

But even madness is something easily overcome if one lives just long enough, or rather, it's something so easy to fake to be void of, eventually. He's always been so good at playing pretend. Playing that he is who he claims through various lives; claiming to love someone; pretending to be human and sharing their interests.

However, of course, Peter is not wrong in that particular notion: he really cannot stand this wine. Lifetimes of money, indulge and too many men begging to please do refine someone's tastes, and this surely is far from them. He will not admit to this, though. Even if this is a peace offering towards his husband, he would never give the satisfaction of it, and his face barely twists when he takes a sip. Much more cautious than usual, though.

"You're often wrong, Peter. It would hardly surprise me if you weren't a certain amount each day."

[sealone]

ELIAS' ACTING skills never fail to impress him, even when he's actively pushing him to break character, let the mask crack and cascade in smithereens to the ground - a pressure that sometimes seems to make his performance only stronger. Still he smiles to himself before he takes a proper sip from his glass. This might just be the only wine he'll ever actually enjoy drinking. His taste is far from being refined in most cases - much to his husband's dismay, whose attempts to change him only manage to amuse him more often than not.

And then, despite his original plan, he remained seated. No sudden cold gust of wind, no static echo cracking between the walls - only two men looking at each other, as physical and human as both of them can be. It would be so easy to think of this as a domestic ritual, a tradition that settled throughout the course of years, when this is actually more likely to be a once in a lifetime event. Or perhaps said event will just refer to Elias' half empty glass.

"Touche. But you should try being wrong sometimes, really. It would be a humbling, if not eye-opening experience."

(Pun fully intended. Ha.)

[instituteled]

Hᴇ ʜᴀᴅɴ'ᴛ considered the threat. Or rather, he can considered it, but put it as a very unlikely option: partly surely because of his ego, thinking he would be much too interesting for any one person to actually want to get rid of him.

(Well, no. He can see how people dislike him. He’s arrogant, not stupid. He just usually makes sure that he holds them in his hand before they get option to do anything, be it secrets to unmake them, physical violence (though rare) or something else.)

It does curl his lips into a smile, a small and sinister thing, different from the one he usually aims at people, but not much. He just doesn’t hide the intent, and besides, it’s a brief moment before it vanishes because he really does not feel good. He feels more aware with each passing second, as if every single person in the world is paying attention to him and so does he to them, as if he has to look at them all at once, know them once, be aware of everything that happens.

(It’ll pass. His powers won’t reach anything like that for decades in reality, it just feels that way right now because he finally acknowledges it. It’s not a sudden shift. It’s just ripping off the band-aid. He’ll feel like absolute shit for a week or so, unable to do much but watch and listen and keeping the shreds of his sanity, but it will not be until he attempts the Crown that he really knows what Knowing feels like.)

"You wouldn’t have had much success.” Arrogance still sits thick in his voice. “I can take care of myself perfectly well.” Like he’s not struggling to sit upright on his own this very moment.

[sealone]

"OH, I know you can and do. Anyone else would have roamed down the wrong hallway forever to never be seen again, but well, it's obvious you managed to avoid that fate." Hard to tell who/what played a part in helping him - a nudge or two from Beholding or the acceptance of the manor itself. This building lives in inexplicable ways, stretching and shrinking as it desires, responding to fears one might not know reside deep inside them - and yet it let Jonah live, even if his inquiring gaze must have scrutinised every dusty corner, every impossible turn, trying to find a source for the servants' voices echoing in the far distance (miles, not meters away; but how could a building be so infinite?). Perhaps it accepted his presence as soon as Peter did, perhaps it fed and feeds still on the strings of loneliness inside his heart and loves their taste too much to consume him fully. Who knows. Peter himself can only speculate.

"But, just as a warning, I suggest you keep yourself from any strenuous activities for a few days. You already look paler enough as is." He won't lie - he would love to witness the pathetic show of Jonah Magnus stumbling to get to his rooms, legs wobbly not so much differently from a sailor's during rough sea. He could offer to help him. He won't. Not solely because the younger man's pride will most definitely keep him from accepting any helping hand - physical or metaphorical.

(And here's what he doesn't say: something in that smile pulls at his chest. The sincerity of it, the open ferocity, not hidden under any pleasantries - a glass mirroring Peter's own. He won't make anything of it, not now; but the feeling will now forever be there.)

[instituteled]

if I had a nickel for each time lately our dynamic was on my side "tiny trans Twink with anger management issues and some connection to godhood that is far smarter than you'd think" and @sealone "their taller partner in a big coat that's more strategic and you might mistake them for being less dangerous because they are calmer" and they'd both burn the world for each other I'd have THREE

[sealone]

“AND YOU are definitely not taking this opportunity to show how deeply you know Jonah Magnus’ works, even better than anyone presenting their new and improved research.” He is teasing, but that’s academia as well - as far as he knows, and all his knowledge on the matter comes from the man standing next to the table with what Peter presumes to be not the first nor the last in a long line of coffees in his hand. At least it will keep him busy long enough to give his husband time to finish his own breakfast before putting him through more mundane but equally painful torture.

But that’s not a moment he can put off for way too long, can he. One last bite of the sandwich he quickly made for himself (asking Elias to consider even just putting anything between two slices of bread would have been too much already), one last drop of coffee, and then he knows the treaty has come to an end. Well. It was nice until it lasted.

“Fine. But don’t expect this to become a regular thing.” Just because he is used to wearing fancy suits and shoes, it doesn’t mean he likes it. He already misses his baggy (but just as expensive and refined) sweaters.

[instituteled]

“Dᴏ ʏᴏᴜ have the slightest clue how tiring it is to have some halfwit trying to tell you that you’re misinterpreting your own work and they understand it so much better?” Not that he expects Peter to answer, really. Nobody can really understand just how infuriating that is until it happens to one, potentially a reason why he prefers talking to the women in academia. They get it. (Despite all other personality flaws, a fun little side effect of his own life is that he’s well known for being progressive in the field. Sure, Tim might call misogyny because of his particular pick of Archivist, but it’s not like he will explain it — and the Institute has excellent healthcare especially concerning gender affirming care, thank you —)

The second the cup comes to rest on the table, the very second does he flip out the comb and brush. It might be the one domestic task anyone (speak: exactly his husband) ever sees him do, and that is fully linked to his own vanity. He’s long given up on the fight about Peter dressing better more often, but on the rare occasions he gets him to, he will take full advantage. And it’s not, as one might think, an act of violence; he’s almost patient, careful, getting the knots out and lining it up, shaping hair and beard with product. (He even omits the scissors, for one, though it’s a near thing.)

Ugh. He really cares for this man.

[sealone]

FOR HALF a second more he considers vanishing and coming back in a few months when the fresh wound of his defection won't sting as much anymore, but he knows Elias too well to fool himself. The man will hold a grudge for a year if needed, and that's nothing Peter is willing to put up with. He can focus on something else to cheer himself up - like his husband's dramatic motion of pulling comb and brush out of his pockets, an image he will store away and use as joke material in the future. It's the little things, really.

In his defense he doesn't move more than required during their little makeover session. He is almost surprised by the gentleness of it all, but it truly just goes to show how important this all is to Elias. If he only wanted to annoy Peter he'd make sure he'd feel every pulled hair, prolonging the task beyond measure; there would be no trace of the care and light touches he is using now. Almost - almost - pleasant. No one will ever catch him alive saying that, though.

"I have a feeling you have already picked out the outfit as well." And kept it well stored in a closet to avoid 1) cat hairs dotting the fabric 2) an whoops-I-didn't-know-it-was-important misplacing by Peter's hands. He can picture it way too well.

[sealone]

it's kinda funny how the last handful of characters i fell for/started roleplaying have "big ass coat" as common trait

[instituteled]

“I ᴋɴᴏᴡ my own value. That’s nearly as good as knowing other people. I’m also very observant.” The tactic isn’t quite working, at least not yet; he’s much too stubborn to give up easily. If only for ego, if only because it’s a matter of pride. Perhaps he will forget about this man the second their ways part; it sure would not be the first time it happens. But until then he’s the one that does not fawn over him, and thus interesting.

(It helps that he’s also attractive. He can appreciate the stature and the fact that one of the older man’s upper arms is nearly as thick as his own waist is. Doesn’t hurt anything to look.)

“For once, I tend to actually pay attention to my guests.” Even if he does turn a little bit away, leans on the railing more. As if he’s just casually enjoying the view, which, of course, is by this hour shrouded in too much darkness to really do so. But the light breeze is nice. Even if it feels much colder than it normally should. Perhaps he isn’t half as drunk as he thought he was, losing the warmth from that.

“And I’m very curious what someone that’s so disinterested in interacting with everyone else might be doing here, I have to admit. It cannot be the enchanting conversation of most attendees. God knows I grow tired if half of them opens their mouth.”

"ARE YOU? Now I am just intrigued to know what you can say about me after we exchanged only a handful of words." He cannot wait to prove him wrong. People tend to read him all wrong, unable to see past first impressions and his cheerfulness - which is not fake, not all the time at least, but it is never meant to be an invitation for others to know him better. People can be fun to be around, only as long as all depth is left out of the door. And he would never miss a chance to knock someone off their high horse.

"As I said before, simply business. Catching up with a few partners after being at sea for several months." And he misses it already. He has a few issues to solve on dryland and the next planned voyage is a few months from now, but in his mind he is already standing on deck again, surrounded by nothing but the silent sea. How peaceful. Better than anything the rest of the world could ever offer him.

"Hm. You don't sound like you have much to do here either. Is getting bored at parties what the youth likes to do these days?" Not that Peter would know. Jonah could easily be his grandson, even a son conceived at a later age with a much younger woman. (Ugh. Perish the thought.)