#irrealiite

[extraplanaire-blog]

just.. settles down into his lap. poe is here, finally, and willing to provide the beast with kisses. "hello. apologies for having been gone so long." one single kiss on the very tip of his nose.

‘Finally’ is rather an understatement, and Lovecraft shall not be swayed out of his pout by mere affection. (Yes he will, but it will take a dose of posturing first.) To Poe’s credit, Lovecraft makes absolutely no move to discourage him as that would not be helpful in the slightest. But instead, he doesn’t move much, staring at Poe with bright purple eyes (meaning he is decidedly awake thanks to this turn of events) and keeping the miffed frown fixed firmly on his face.

           “I missed you,” Lovecraft responds grumpily, without the polite answer of ‘apology accepted’. He did miss Poe, which is disgusting. That requires emotions (outside of ambivalence & anxiety) and sentimentality, both of which are things Lovecraft prefers to avoid.

And yet.

And yet.

Lovecraft moves, finally, relaxing. This fingers card into Poe’s hair, holding his head as Lovecraft lightly kisses his forehead. That’s all, a silent welcome back.

[extraplanaire-blog]

here he comes, eager to wake lovecraft with palms cupping either side of his thin face.. it's been a while. the bags beneath poe's eyes have grown far more drastic, but so has the unyielding adoration in his gaze. "hello, my little love..," he whispers, voice but a low hum, near purr. "how I've missed you so."

He doesn’t get to sleep much lately. Both in the sense of he cannot go into the ocean for months on end and that even his sleep at night is more short-lived than is ideal. It makes Lovecraft uncomfortable, perpetually on edge with a feeling of something being amiss (he has made many choices lately that will alter things; perhaps it is the nerves or cause-effect-anticipation running aimlessly in his thoughts that keeps him from sleeping proper).

Contrary to expectation, Lovecraft isn’t any more annoyed to be woken than usual. It is something he’s learned to accept, almost. The familiarity helps (of both the gesture and the person who comes bearing it as offering). Cold hands slide gently (lovingly! isn’t that an odd adjective for you) over his cheeks and Lovecraft cracks his eyes open with a soft grumble.

It’s Poe, because of course it is. He knew that. It’s been a while-- not Lovecraft’s fault this time. There’s curiosity as to where the raven flew off to, but so long as the roost is his eventual return, Lovecraft supposes it’s not his business to ask. Poe looks about as wan and exhausted as Lovecraft (’you look like absolute shit’, a borrowed voice runs through his head, but that’s not something one should say to a returned lover). It’s been a while since he had to watch over Poe, that was an affair of the Guild... but Lovecraft can make a note to see if he remembers to tell Poe to sleep in the next week.

It takes Lovecraft some time to reply as he processes, Better idle thought as he gazes calmly at Poe than something inhuman. Perhaps. 

         “Little?”

That’s not an adjective commonly applied to him. (Don’t be hurt, he’s only teasing.)

          “It has been a while.”

Lovecraft hesitates to agree with sentiments about such things as missing people. He likes to pretend it’s outside his realm of emotional capabilities. It isn’t.

[extraplanaire-blog]

slides right onto his lap with pure thirst in his grin, fingers tracing idle patterns up the front of lovecraft's shirt. "tell me something nice, in russian." and from his shirt pocket he procures a candy bar, holding it up via open palm. "you can have this if you do." just a little sweet encouragement.

          “Let me think.”

While he has a grasp on any language he’s spoken to in, remembering these languages is an entirely different and far more difficult task. It doesn’t come to him easily-- when was the last time he was summoned in Russia. The fifteen hundreds or thereabouts...? What does he remember from that. A lot of yelling, mostly, it was a troublesome time.

Lovecraft closes his eyes, lost in thought and trying to remember what the noise of Russian sounds like. It’s with effort and hesitance when he finally speaks, but it is an attempt nonetheless.

          “Не помню много. Ты милый, птичка.”

Sacrifice completed, the candy disappears from Poe’s palm. It was not much to say, but he’s worse at being verbally nice than he is at Russian, so it was not a particularly fortuitous mix.

Oh well. Poe will be happy, he’s not so difficult to please.

[extraplanaire-blog]

takes the liberty of stretching over lovecraft's lap, peeks of belly given with the slight part of unbuttoned shirt. poe sighs, content, reaching up to brush fingers along a sharp cheekbone. (beautiful.) "hello. it's been a few days." (or weeks.)

It comes as no surprise when Poe’s way of asking attention is draping himself over Lovecraft, the only remaining difference between Poe and an abnormally large cat is that Poe doesn’t headbutt him. Lovecraft greets the man, tilting his head against Poe’s touch when it’s given. Yes, it’s been a while, but for now he has a modicum of a break. That’s nice. He lays a hand against Poe’s forehead, ruffling his hair absently.

          “I’ve been busy.”

Already being employed (technically) does not spare him the obligation of other jobs calling. (What will ever spare him from work?) It is very much a pain, but a necessary one. At least it is infrequent enough that there is just barely space to sleep and space to stay with Poe.

He does not really remember how long it’s been, just some stretch of time. Things are even blurrier when he’s alone rather than hanging about some human, and time is downright nonexistent in dreams and related spaces. 

Lovecraft is very tired. He’s done a lot in however long it was. He flops sideways with a groan of complaint directed at the universe as a whole. He ensures he ends up next to Poe, nestling his face against the side of Poe’s.           “I’m back now. For some time, who knows.            Probably some point in the future.             Probably before you rot or the world drowns.”He’s tired and annoyed about having to disappear off and work, the mutterings reflect that without much conscious intent. That’s enough out of him, for now he’ll quiet his grumblings and sigh. Work is annoying, but at least Poe is soft. A mild consolation.

[extraplanaire-blog]

wanders on in to pause feet away from lovecraft. fingers pluck at the knot keeping his robe tied and pull it free, fabric sliding down to pool at the floor. "guess who has soft legs tonight." hint: he's grinning, & far too eager for his own good.

He watches Poe with some curiosity, end result not exactly unexpected. When Poe states the reason for his stripping, that and the usual theatrics of Poe’s existence have Lovecraft immediately covering his mouth with a hand in an attempt to cover up the tiny noise of amusement.

It’s probably rude to openly snicker at Poe, but it’s very difficult not to look at least a little amused when the man is so entirely ridiculous.

It takes a second, but Lovecraft’s composure is entirely restored to his usual deadpan when he drops his hand. He nods at Poe. Yes, it is probably the only individual in the room who’s posing naked.          “I assume it’s you.”Absolutely nothing is done with this information, Lovecraft is still processing Poe’s theatrics.

[extraplanaire-blog]

the quick tip-taps of feet are the only warning lovecraft gets before they pause just outside the room. poe slowly peeks around the doorframe, before stepping in entirely, and -- ah. his hair is shorter, cut out of the way of his face to frame it instead. he smiles sheepishly, obviously trying his best to keep from full-blown grinning. "what do you think?"

Noise of feet approaching is enough-- he knows it’s Poe, because of the sound and because who else would it be. Lovecraft looks up from where he’s laying slumped across the seat of a desk chair and waits for Poe to make himself evident. Shortly there’s a head leaning into view from around the doorframe, followed quickly by the rest of Poe.

His face is immediately visible, that’s certainly a change. (Briefly, Lovecraft wonders if it’s supposed to signify anything.) Lovecraft unfolds himself and stands, pausing briefly to acknowledge the fact he’s been asked a question before walking over to stand in front of Poe. His opinion is given in form of Lovecraft reaching over and ruffling Poe’s hair with approval. (What was he supposed to do aside from immediately muss up Poe’s hair? It’s soft and fluffy, he’s obligated.) Lovecraft nods to himself.          “It’s good.” Poe is cute, and now with easily discernible facial features. A win. Lovecraft ruffles his hair again (perhaps he’s having fun).

[extraplanaire-blog]

@irrealiite // con’t, belatedly?

It’s a nice welcome back, which is one of the reasons Poe is always one of the first he lurches off to check on after he disappears back off into the waves for a brief nap. (And it is brief, a week is not much in the span of things, but he is so much busier than he expected for these past months. One day he will choose not to return at all, but that is far off.)

He missed Poe. A little bit. (Unfortunate.) Correct in the assumption that he doesn’t want to free Poe from being leaned on; impractical as it may be the disappearance of Poe from his grasp is entirely unwelcome. Lovecraft is being disgusting and sentimental, if he is going so far as to miss people he may as well complete the quote of physical contact so he can feel less gross about it (Nothing is perfect or according to plan.)

But he is given a sheaf of papers, which is one of the things he wished to obtain, though Poe continues to skitter off and not let Lovecraft lurk in his presence. He is unsure where Poe is off to, but he follows after, looking down at the draft he’s been handed. It’s much easier to pay attention to things written when he’s rested, he’s noticed, so he should probably see what he has been given before he zones out again.

           “I’ll give feedback,” said distantly from behind Poe. His feedback will probably be utterly useless, as it often is, but it is the formality of the thing, Lovecraft supposes. “You writing about revenge isn’t surprising.”

[extraplanaire-blog]

celestite, agate, emerald :^), kyanite, nebula stone, obsidian

crystal headcaon asks!

celestite: how my muse deals with anxiety

“dealing with anxiety” implies competence, which Lovecraft does not have. Mostly, he deals with anxiety by either seeing something out that he can latch onto (e.g. a person he can follow under the assumption that they will take care of whatever thing he is worried about and/or some variety of distraction) or just attempting to completely remove himself from the presence of what’s bothering him and never come back, either by just leaving or destroying whatever he’s panicked over. Those are more for full-blown anxiety attacks, for smaller ones he has equally poor coping methods, such as the habit of scratching his hands (which, the amount he does this, would amount to some pretty bad self-harm if he wen’t capable of immediate healing, yeesh), disassociating, etc. He doesn’t have many good methods of dealing with anxiety when he’s alone. (Or when he’s with someone trustworthy, he’s still weirdly nervous but he’ll rely on them to tell him to stop, so. I guess main way of coping is to Have Someone Around.)

agate: how my muse calms down

isolation, or at least very minimal contact with the world at large. hell go stand in the nearest body of water (rain and bathtubs count) if he can and zone the fuck out for a few hours, or absently hunt down friends who are quiet.

emerald: how my muse tells someone they love them without words

ahah. trust, mostly, a willingness to not only be around someone but do what they ask without much question or complaint. (if you can get him to listen to you and do you a energy-intensive favour without having to bribe him into it, he likes you a lot.) also presence and allowance/initiation of physical contact, while he does rather enjoy physical contact it is only with people he loves and if someone else touches him in any remotely friendly/intimate way hes just. screaming internally. if he leans on u he more or less lovs u

kyanite: an anger headcanon

he does not frequently get Properly Angry, but it’s not real difficult to irritate or annoy him. when he does get properly angry its a downright spectacle, and its also incredibly terrifying. in the event he can’t just murder whoever he’s mad at lovecraft’ll go full-on Unreal God Entity. he usually doesn’t intimidate people with full intention (only with partial intention-- scared people cant piss him off further), but there is definitely half-intent that his anger will start bending reality. his voice stays low, like he never shouts or anything and hell either go completely still or lash out very quickly, no in betweens, but reality gets kinda fuzzy around him and its hard to argue with lovecraft when hes really pissed mostly because youre probably hallucinating a little bit and there’s too many eyes and The Essence Of Fear in the room. its not pretty when hes properly angry, something best to avoid.

nebula stone: how good my muse's memory is

his memory is like, worryingly good, but only if he decides to care. he can regurgitate verbatim things someone said to him in AD 300 but cannot remember dates of things or even the names of people he doesn’t care about

obsidian: which of the seven deadly sins my muse would be

sloth lmao this should surprise no one