prismaticrap | ▶ TDM .010

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You awaken amidst the darkness with only a faint light to greet you. Your body is hemmed in by shards of crystals, gently sparkling and possibly pricking your skin. The surrounding landscape is dyed in the pinks and purples of the dusk filled with crystals protruding from the ground, some as large as a skyscraper. Even the few shy moon creatures you find in the wild have strange crystal growths on their hides. This is far from home— perhaps a dream? You pinch your skin and slap your cheeks, yet nothing seems to do the trick. Searching for answers yields nothing but an endless expanse of purple dust as far as the eye can see. You have four options: one, panic; two, soil yourself; three, admire it all then soil yourself; or four, go into survival mode. Eventually, you’ll realize that you’re not alone.

After a day or two of living off the crystal wilderness, a group of people find you worse for wear. They are the gallant Moon Knights from the planet of Prismatica. After the strange phenomenon during the past months when scientists observed the sudden appearance of rainbow crystals in the sky, the government has been feverishly combing through the moon for more Moonblessed to be rescued. You’ll eventually be brought into Iris’s moon government center.

You all may have your usual inquiries — Where are we? Who are you? What's going on? Why did I accidentally swallow the worm at the bottom of my tequila? — and the Prismals are almost too eager to answer. They tell you about their world and about the first appearance of the Moonblessed as the medical staff give you an examination to make sure you’re not carrying any viruses or biological hazards. If you react violently, you may be restrained and nerfed with a specialized neurotransmitting gun that releases a numbing agent through the top of your spine. Once the examinations are over, you’re informed that you will be provided accommodations on their planet during your stay.

While waiting for transport to be prepared, you may freely roam around the government center. Eventually you’re called back from exploring, escorted to the docks, and led onto a large transport vessel that makes frequent trips back and forth between the moons and the planet. Faces onboard vary from both old and new Moonblessed as well as the local Prismals. The next destination: Prismatica.

▶ I Heat Up, I Can’t Cool Down
Iris Moon, Government Center (Arrival) and Planet Prismatica, City of Lunatia | top

Welcome to Prismatica’s hub, Lunatia, the city of your dreams! A bustling metropolis lush with bright lights, vibrant colors, luxuriant plant life, and all the conveniences of technology absent from your own world… It seems like paradise to all the uninitiated. After a quick tour of the city, new arrivals can find themselves getting cozy in their new homes.

A Settle in your new home at Level 2 to find new roommates and say hello to your neighbors! City officials will give you directions to the designated districts across Level 2 and instruct you to pick out a unit. Each apartment complex has a different aesthetic, some may look cozy, some stylish, and some bizarre. The free accommodations have a basic living space that can only fit two or three people at most in one unit.

Starter Chromaspace furnishings are provided which can be controlled with the touch of a built-in panel. Examples are color-changing curtains, transforming sofa beds, cabinets turning into tables, etc. Customizing your apartment or moving out will have to wait until you earn more chroma. Until then, why don’t you check out your new neighborhood or explore the city levels? Maybe your new roommates or neighbors can give you a “hand” with allowance for dinner.

B After settling into your apartment, you notice a shiny silver indestructible mechanoid cube with a pair of tiny stag horns attached to it. The card attached says that it’s a gift from the Lunatian government. One touch of the cube makes it hover in place, light up brightly, and play the classic hit Last Firalia by Blam! on repeat. By the 7th listen, you get hot under your collar, beads of sweat forming on your temples and rolling down your neck, and your breath grows labored. By the 17th listen, you’re all but ready to burst into flames — a stark contrast to the plummeting temperature outdoors.

A bit of vigorous moonlacing should keep you from growing too hot and bothered indoors. Or you could simply decide to chuck the cube out the window and let it be someone else’s problem. That won't really stop it, though. The music only stops once the cube picks up enough Chroma in the atmosphere generated via moonlacing, so go forth, and spread the Firialia lust, love, and cheer!

▶ It’s the Moose Wonderful Time of the Year
City of Lunatia | top

In the city of Lunatia, the streets are emblazoned with beautiful antler decorations, gleaming gold and silver along every walkway. Snowflake holograms appear on shop fronts to announce their annual Firialia sales, and Prismals are all rushing to buy gifts and make preparations for the upcoming holiday.

According to legend, on one incredibly harsh winter, ancient Prismals were downtrodden and on the verge of starvation when the majestic stag king of the forest, Firi, emerged from his humble kingdom to bring them warm clothing, blankets, and gifts for surviving the biting cold. It is said that his spirit remains on the land even after the Calamity, appearing every winter solstice to bless the Prismals for the new year ahead. Every year, Prismals mount festive wreaths on their door, decorated with stag horns in Firi's honor, and exchange gifts to invite the benevolent spirit of Firi into their homes.

A Hanging fake deer antlers is a strong Firialia tradition that has endured for centuries — a success that can be attributed to its magical effects, which often compels two people caught beneath to share a bit of Firialia spirit with one another. One can find these trinkets everywhere, decorating even the most secluded of spaces. The antlers come in three colors:

RED: Causes a dangerous but intense feeling of desire to embrace the person you're with! You will want to roughly pin the closest person to you on a flat surface, passionately kiss, and/or aggressively hold hands.

BLUE: Causes people to want to kiss until they’re out of breath, hands liberally moving across each other’s body, and the errant temptation to go further, but no taking any clothes off in public or the Moon Knights will get you! You’ll simply be eager to tease and kiss beyond the lips and have difficulty feeling sated.

PURPLE: Causes people to want to caress each other's faces affectionately, steal soft kisses, and/or tenderly lace their fingers together. They may also feel compelled to offer up some sweet whispers and compliments!

B To combat the cool weather, Prismals will also be handing out cups of warm chocolate moose mousse. This light and creamy dessert is prepared in enchanted moose-shaped cups with a pair of festive graham cookie antlers poking out of it. Prismal traditions include taking a bite and passing it to your neighbor, enabling you to get a glimpse of one another’s Firialia wishlists left unspoken. Fancy a new fishing rod this holiday? Or perhaps that saucy leather subligar you’ve been eyeing since your arrival? The words and images that make up your list appear before whoever eats your mousse, so who knows? Maybe you might get it this Firilia...

▶ Are You Not Entertained?
Level 1, PrismaPlace | top

After the long wait and preparations, the League Match Action Online (LmaO) preliminary qualification rounds are now underway at the gaming hub in PrismaPlace in Level 1, as the city will be hosting the LmaO Grand Championship next month. Moonblessed old and new are welcome to take the game for a test drive and participate!

The award-winning VR MOBA boasts amazingly seamless first-person view graphics and a real-time combat mode almost as authentic as real life and guaranteed to wow and amaze. Players can explore and immerse themselves in the fantasy world of LmaO, where they can create their own avatars and either fight with or against players from Lunatia and the Kingdom of Lyestellus for glory and loot!

In co-op mode, you will be battling a selection of huge beasts chosen at random. The most notorious among them is Ogma the Dread Ogre, who has high defense and pesky unavoidable attacks. PVP mode pits you against other players, and getting KO’d three times in a row or having your base captured is a loss for you and your team. Fun mode featuring mini-games such as virtual basketball, rhythm step action, beat sword, and many more. Winning any of these modes nets you loads of in-game gold that can be used to buy aesthetic skins, cute in-game pets, fun game emotes, furniture for your in-game house, or weapon and skill upgrades to make you stronger for the next round!

Event emcees will be recruiting anyone passing by for the preliminaries and showing them into fully-equipped private rooms for teams of two to eight players. Each player will be given virtual headsets and tight suits for immersion and communication. Prismal players may be recruited with Moonblessed teams if necessary.

A The scenario for the preliminaries is a majestic coliseum filled with gladiators of all ages and species. In LmaO, weapon choices are currently limited to any melee and ranged weapons you'd find in an ambitious fantasy RPG setting (read: you can find dual swords and grimoires but also gunblades), including an elemental magic system of water, fire, wind, earth, dark and light. Choose your weapon and, with your team, fight for the top spot!

As you begin to battle, you notice that the more you get hit, the more your physical body shows visceral reactions to the attacks. Outside of the game, you lose balance. Bruises appear out of nowhere and mar on your skin. You earn minor abrasions and bleed. It’s possible to feel the sweat or saliva of other players or bots, the sensation of their virtual hands grappling you, or their teeth sinking into your shoulder as they bite. It's a new, tantalizing world of virtual stimulation.

B For those of you more interested in the glamour aspects of LmaO, you are welcome to compete against other players in either the in-game or a real glam-a-thon. Festive LmaO cosplayers will be scattered around the venue, dressed in colorful costumes of characters from the game, such as the ridiculously cool cyborg Kenji and the flirty immortal fox mage Yeri. As for the in-game contestants, they are located on a bright sparkling stage. Large monitors at PrismaPlace can be seen livestreaming everything.

Some of the many competitors are dressed in colorful gear, including stylish himations, risque chitons, and a bevy of glittery, neon gladiator sandals. Challenge other players to a fashion walk-off on the raised catwalk. Score high enough on either contests, and you will win an ultra-rare Firialia plump moose mount in-game. You are welcome to invite others on a scenic moose ride after as the plump moose very slowly waddles across the virtual snowfields and exhibits its adorable built-in feature where it decides to take a nap every few minutes.

▶ Questions
If you have any questions regarding this test drive meme, please ask them in the Questions thread below.

▶ As a reminder, test drive memes are for new characters only. However, current players are more than welcome to use these prompts for their own posts in the IC communities, personal inboxes, catch-all posts, etc.!
▶ As our test drive memes are game canon, feel free to keep any threads that happen here as canon for your character should they be accepted.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's warm - where their palms meet and press together, fingers relaxing enough without prompt to allow familiar interlacing - warmth that crawled up along his arms like tendrils of ivy, taking root somewhere deep inside of him where he couldn't quite reach. Intrusive, maybe, but still looked upon in reverence, considered beautiful despite the nuisance.

Like Cain, maybe. Like them.

His own guilt keeps him quiet for an almost uncomfortable length of time, Abel unsure what the hell he thought he was doing barging back into Cain's life like he had any right to be there after the things he'd said. He shouldn't be here, so easily enveloped, welcomed back like he hadn't played any part in the argument that had almost jeopardized their only escape route.

Neither were completely blameless, and the immense relief he felt knowing that Cain was still alive wasn't enough to negate that fact. But maybe-]

It means I did it. It means we escaped.

[He doesn't know that for sure and surely nothing would ever be so simple but right then maybe it could be, his hands offering a gentle squeeze (I'm here, I'm real, we're alive). Maybe he could just give this much to Cain because he so desperately needed the reassurance- more than Abel did, anyway, more than he could give to Abel, lost as he seemed to be.

It wasn't his job, to pilot.]

[ He shouldn't be touching him, but he's found a certain sort of comfort in the touch of others, in moonlacing and however that actually worked. Yet, there's something significantly different about doing it with Abel, when he returns the squeeze and that connection seems to magnify in every part of his body where they touch. Cain can't ignore it, but... he should. This is not how he'd imagined their reunion, though he'd most certainly thought that Abel would never speak to him again. Knowing he's alive should be enough, but he'd spent so many nights thinking about what he would say to him —

i wanted to tell you

we might have been able to get out if you trusted me more

i never wanted to hurt you that way

i'm sorry

i think i love you

But none of that leaves his mouth, slowly drawing back instead as he thinks about the last time they'd been together. One of his hands slips free, bracing against his side where he'd been shot, and while it had taken some time to heal, it didn't pain him as much as it had when he'd first gotten here. Suddenly, everything makes even less sense and pains him twice as bad. ]

... Are you hurt?

[ He rests his thumb along his jaw like he could look him over in the dark and being drunk as he is. ]

[No. His immediate reaction is to lie, and he almost does, assuming that it didn't actually matter in the grand scheme of things and there was nothing so pressing that Cain needed to be burdened with it too.

Instead he presses his lips together in a thin line, taking advantage of the half freedom offered with his hand returned and using it as a support to start wiggling further back, palm pressed to the floor. Just enough so that he could sit up, but without placing too much distance between them, unable and unwilling to fully let go. Not yet.]

A little. There were doctors there, before-

[Before they flew us off the moon. He can't bring himself to say it out loud, like that had been the most ridiculous thing that had happened in the past few days, but if Cain had received the same sort of welcome it shouldn't be that much of a surprise anyway.

Had been enough for him, more worried about what could have hurt Cain here instead of what had hurt him, there.]

I'm fine. [He does lie, that time, but it's small, mostly true and besides-] But you're not. ...Why were you drinking so much?

[Not a new habit but not one he'd seen in such... excess.]

[ He doesn't stop him from sitting up, leaning back so that he's balanced more on his knees, and it's that small movement that makes him realize how much he had drank, the taste of it bitter in his mouth. But better he'd done that than found someone to drag back here to fuck, a situation he couldn't possibly imagine if Abel had learned where he lived so quickly. The guilt that floods him is intense, averting his gaze to the opposite wall over Abel's shoulder as he tries to think.

His brain's so fuzzy that it's nearly impossible. ]

You should have let them look at you.

[ It's almost dismissive, really, because Cain doesn't want to talk about why. He can barely even think normal thoughts, most of them so heavily centered around Abel that he feels like an idiot. If he kept apologizing, would that fix things? Would Abel forgive him? Would they be able to go back to the blissful ignorance of the two of them together without the weighted influence of the Alliance breathing down the back of his neck?

Probably not, and that's worse, dropping his hand so that it rests on his thigh. Aside from straddling him, he isn't even touching him anymore. ]

There's not much else to do here, [ he answers eventually, lifting his shoulder in an attempt to be nonchalant. ] It's been almost a month since – gotta stay low in case someone starts asking around.

...A month?

[Oh, Cain. He'd been thinking about Abel, hadn't he? And it was so selfish to think that but it had only been a few days for him and already the possibilities that he had lost Cain, had left him behind, had died himself had run through his mind in such painstaking detail that the line between what was real and what wasn't was rapidly blurring, like grief could bring about this whole imaginary scenario where it was safe for them to hide.

But a whole month spent in the dark, alone, not knowing what had happened or why they'd been separated- it's unfathomable, really, causing a pain in his chest so sharp that he can't help but wonder if they both needed to get dragged off to medical for another check up.]

I'm sorry.

[There's not much else to say, really, and it's not nearly enough.

Awkwardly he reaches back out, more feeling for than seeing or understanding, and tries to draw him in closer again, like he could make up for all those days he wasn't there with a strong enough touch. A hug, as if that was any sort of consolation.]

Edited 2019-12-09 05:53 (UTC)

[ As much as he wants to accept that apology, he can't. It hadn't been Abel's fault, he thinks, and even if it spirals down to the gritty details of having used the drive, that couldn't be put on Abel. all of it's on him, and he'd spent that last month mourning the loss of a navigator and any hope of ever returning to home, of being able to set right the things he'd done. It clings to him like the alcohol that permeates the air, and he tries to shake his head, to shrug it off. But Abel reaches for him and —

He wants to. He wants to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him.

Instead, he puts a hand on his arm and eases back, sliding off of him in a movement that's surprisingly graceful for someone who's completely drunk. Cain uses the couch as support to stand, fumbling his way through the apartment to switch on the light of a lamp so he can look for his cigarettes more easily. Half a pack on a nearby table, and he leans over Abel when he grabs them, fingers clenching around the smokes. ]

You don't have to say that to me. [ His voice is quiet, obviously tired. Still, he reaches to offer Abel support to get off the floor, settling for that small point of contact when he wants to sink into him and never let go. ] Maybe you should rest. We can talk later.

[ Because he is not sober enough for any of this. ]

[He doesn't. He knows he has no real reason to apologize to Cain, words harsh when he'd given in to overwhelming confusion and anger but truthfully, still not wholly undeserved. And he'd meant it, then, had wanted nothing more than to put as much distance as possible between them, to foolishly try to scrub every piece of Cain he could from his life, like it would be so simple to just run and never look back.

And maybe he was sorry for that, sorry that he'd barely allowed any explanation to be given, hadn't been willing to listen. There just hadn't been any time and while a valid one, still an excuse all the same.

If given the choice, he'd never have wanted his last words to Cain to be ones of anger. But they had been (mostly) and they'd both been granted the distance Abel had so desperately thought he'd wanted and none of it had been easy, had made him feel any better at all.]

Yeah. Maybe.

[It hurts more than he's willing to admit when Cain furthers the distance between them, when he rebuffs Abel's touch and stands instead; disappointment a bitter thing to swallow, thick and acerbic in the back of his throat. For the best, maybe, given he doesn't seem to have the will to do it himself despite knowing it was completely unfair to keep pressing at Cain now. Would he even remember all of this in the morning? Most, a jarring enough experience to certainly stick, but Abel doesn't want his words here to become lost, too important to be careless with.

The offered hand is taken, unneeded but wanted, what he thinks might be the last little bit of warmth he can selfishly indulge. Tonight. Maybe. He lets go, once he's up.]

They said we could pick a room. Probably have one waiting for me so-

[If Cain wanted space, he could have it.]

[ Cain stands almost listless, unsure what to do with his hands aside from fiddle with the cigarettes he suddenly doesn't have any interest in smoking. It had all been an excuse to give him some space to enjoy the rest of whatever drunken state he would have been in through tomorrow, but Abel is still there, still close. The only thing he's doing is pushing him away, and right now — ]

You can stay. [ It's out of his mouth before he can catch it, caught in his own words as he struggles for something to follow it with. ] Take the bed. I can sleep out here.

[ But that's not right either, and his body is taking control before his thoughts can argue, dropping the cigarettes to the floor as he crosses the minuscule amount of distance separating them to curl his arms around him. All the hesitation bleeds out, his fingers tangling in the clothes he's wearing and sliding down to press into the small of his back. He holds him like he's never going to have this again, sinking into the solid line of his body and trying to keep him close. Closer, so close.

Not close enough, not after a month of trying to remember what he felt like.

And though he should be careful, Cain's desperation is almost vicious, hands pushing up to touch his hair and sift through the strands. It's gentle despite the need to crush him until there's no space between them, searching somewhere for the courage to press his lips to his cheek and finding it in his own drunkenness, mouth warm at his jaw as he breathes and lets the words speak for themselves in his body language.

i missed you ]

[It's almost pathetic how easily he allows himself to be drawn in when only a few moments before he'd just about convinced himself he could walk back out the door. If Cain had really wanted him gone, wanted to wallow until sobriety found him again, he might have been able to do it, might have been able to talk himself into believing that it was like all those nights before, when Cain had walked into their shared room at all hours of the night only to slip out so few hours later without a word, leaving Abel to wake up alone.

He could sleep in his own bed, by himself, would be absolutely fine and no worse for the wear. But he didn't want to, didn't want to let go now that his arms were around Cain's neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer even while being tugged along himself.]

We can both take the bed. Stay with me.

[Never one to shy away from voicing what he wanted (at least, to Cain. at least, when it came to the way he wanted to touch and not the way he wanted to feel) the words leave him in a quiet murmur, focused as he is on the feel of lips trailing familiar paths along the angle of his jaw, the way Cain's skin felt impossibly hot against his fingertips as they curled in, tangled completely in dark hair.

Maybe he would stay, if Abel could just hold on tightly enough.]

[ If this is a dream, he doesn't want it to end. Maybe he doesn't deserve that either, not when the room is suddenly too hot and he can't tell if that's the liquor or the moonlacing, but it's more than enough to knock some semblance of sense into him, to make him realize that Abel isn't pushing him away. He wants him to stay, wants him close, and Cain's weak to it, feeling that possessive draw cornering him to do something stupid and reckless.

The lips at Abel's jaw don't waste any time finding the corner of his mouth, kissing him almost softly, and he's aware that it's not the most elegant kiss or the best-tasting. He's drank the equivalent of far too much, but that doesn't mean he's entirely useless, nuzzling into him and trying to seek out whatever affection the other man's willing to give him. If he's needy, he'll blame it on the alcohol or this place and its weirdness. He'll think of some excuse that isn't just the fact he wants him, the kiss just as searing as every place that they touch when he finally, finally lets it happen.

He savors it, the heat of Abel's breath and the pliant slide of his mouth. The sweetness of a kiss he doesn't deserve. ]

It's not that big, [ he says, as though they haven't shared smaller. Would it be so strange to just fall asleep with him and wake up knowing he'd be at his side? ] You'll have to stay close...

[He'll have to try again in the morning, even if the alcohol that mostly comprised the man in front of him instead of common sense would finally be filtered out and his words would be more easily bitten back. Certainly there's a more raw look offered into Cain now, the subtleties in his expression sorely lacking and left somewhere probably in the pile of shattered glass that still lay ignored on the floor. And he could argue that maybe there's more truth too, in almost sloppy kisses and hands grasping for every bit of purchase they could find in his shirt.

But this wasn't the Cain he wanted to hear from. The one he wanted to whisper his secrets to in the dark and tangle legs with under the covers and make wishes for on stars he didn't recognize. He's not strong enough to deny taking what he's offered though, sharing breath inbetween gentle brushes of the tip of his nose along the length of Cain's, the sort of shy and sweet touches he could only imagine when Cain used to keep him at literal arm's length, pressed back against the controls of the ship.

Later. He would try again later and hope both their answers would remain the same and he wasn't some sort of monster for knowing Cain had been far too indulgent and unable (unwilling?) to really deny the insistent palms that rested against either side of his face, pulling him in for just one more kiss.]

So I'll stay close.

[Simple as that. Reckless]

Edited 2019-12-10 08:14 (UTC)

[ Having Abel so close after not having him for so long is heady, drunk on it just as much as he is the booze, and he practically melts into the way he kisses him, sweet and endearing and impossibly good. The bit of guilt that flares up beneath it all is quickly shoved back down, not wanting to deal with the fact he's kissed a lot more people and done so much worse because he hadn't coped with losing Abel and possibly never seeing him again. Maybe he should have been focused on finding a way off this planet, on getting back into some known galaxy, but even the thought of returning to his family held little sway over how much he'd wanted to do those things with someone else. With Ethan.

He breaks the kiss gently, one hand seeking Abel's so he can draw him away from the mess of the living room and into the bedroom. It's been used very little, that much is obvious from the lack of cigarette smoke and the straightened sheets. It's not much of a consolation that he hasn't brought anyone else here, but it's a stark thought as he untucks the blankets and drags them down onto the mattress. He wastes no time wrapping himself around him after that, holding him close and sagging into the contact like someone who's starved for affection, and he breathes his name softly into the nape of his neck, strangely comfortable after nearly a month of simply wanting to give up. ]

Be here tomorrow.

[ Because he's still not entirely convinced this isn't something made up in his own head, but he's too drunk to fight it any further. ]

[There's no real resistance offered when Cain begins to lead him, again, Abel tired and simply falling into step behind (he doesn't know the layout even if it's easy enough to guess but there's something nice too in letting Cain be the one to guide them, this time). What feels like a lifetime has been packed into what has really been just a few short days and while there was still so much to say, so much to work through and figure out, they at least seemed on the same page about this- the need to shelve it away if only for the moment, to sleep off the bone deep weariness because running wasn't as high on the priority list anymore and maybe they were still safe enough, together.

He wanted to think partial motive lie in wanting to ease the pain that had so clearly settled in behind Cain's eyes but Abel sought his own reassurance in heat against his palm, bleeding through Cain's shirt as idle patterns were drawn across his back. In the way a knee slid between his easily parted thighs, allowed without a second thought, entangling them further and keeping him in place. A little piece of familiarity in the face of so much unknown, something solid and real- he needed it too, just as much.]

I don't want to be anywhere else.

[It's not a promise he can truly make but one he wants to be able to, one he honestly admits even knowing the respite will be brief and later will only bring difficulty with it.]

[ He barely hears the words whispered back to him, already lulled too deep down by the warmth of their embrace and the overwhelming knock of his heart against his ribs at the thought that he'll wake up with Abel so close. Like it could erase time and they could go back to when it hadn't been so complicated, when Abel still saw him as someone he could (mostly) trust. The ache of it stabs at him, but the alcohol lessens the pain, murmuring under his breath as he slips into a mildly comfortable sleep. Something he hasn't had since he'd arrived, and something he hadn't cared to measure because that meant keeping track of the days and how long he'd worried that Abel was dead or he was or this was some kind of hell he couldn't escape.

Cain falls asleep to that thought, arms curled tight around Abel, and it's some time in the early hours of the morning that he wakes up, head throbbing and needing the bathroom. It's almost impossible to untangle himself from the heat that's welled up between him and the body pressed to his; more than that, he doesn't want to. But – Cain glances down at Abel, fingers hovering over his hair and ready to touch, but he carefully eases himself away, confining himself to the shower for almost half an hour before he's dressed and mostly sober, deciding to smoke outside until well past dawn. He's not ready to face whatever's inside waiting for him, not after everything that's happen, and yet, the desire to see Abel's face, to know that he hadn't imagined all of it last night and when he'd woken up —

It's much stronger than any feeling he's ever had before.

A frown spreads itself across his face as he lets himself back in and wanders to the bedroom, ignoring the broken bottle he vaguely remembers throwing across the room. He lingers just at the doorway, unsure what he'll find and realizing he's scared to move forward; so, he crosses his arms and just waits and looks. ]

[No real acknowledgment of Cain's sudden absence had been given, an idle tug of the blankets closer, a quiet sigh as he then simply adjusted, remained asleep. Even if he hadn't desperately needed the rest he was far more used to waking up alone than not, Cain somehow slipping out of the room most mornings without ever disturbing him.

He might have tried to blame it on the trust they'd built together, Navigator and Fighter forced rapidly into interdependence out of necessity. But it was a hollow argument at best when the first night they'd spent together, however confusing and... difficult, it had been his dreams that had finally roused Abel, and not the man that had silently left their shared bed.

And now, here in Lunatia, he couldn't say for sure whether that trust truly remained anyway.

Routine, maybe, might have been the larger factor, Abel without the same memories of lengthy days that had bled into lonelier nights that Cain had accumulated over the time they'd been separated; it hadn't been that long ago to him that they'd at least fallen asleep together in their cramped room aboard the Sleipnir. The hastily ignored need to recover, too, certainly hadn't hurt- days spent pushing past his body's insistence that he just stop had lead to an almost peaceful night spent, no energy left to offer up to the regret and worry he would have made his companion otherwise.

The feeling of being watched did at least register somewhere, subconsciously, but without any other sound or movement to accompany and give him reason to address it Abel turned his head away, tucking his chin down and sinking further into the mattress.

He definitely hadn't held any delusion that Cain would still be there when he'd agreed to stay. But it was still nicer to remain in the oblivious before, to have the lingering scent and warmth of him to bury his face into, than it was to force himself into facing the reality he fully expected to find.]

[ Abel doesn't stir much, and Cain thinks about leaving him there, about turning around and losing himself in the draw of Lunatia for a little while. It wouldn't do much, not for long, but it's a thought that he overpowers by taking a step forward and crossing the space between them. He doesn't want to run from this, run from Abel despite that being the only thing he's done. He holds his breath the entire time, quiet when he sits on the edge of the bed and rests his hands atop the blankets. There's still too much remorse that holds him back, but like this...

It's surreal, how beautiful he is. In sleep, there isn't the stress he thought he might have found, the panic and worry and sleep-deprivation that they'd both experienced more and more of as time had gone on. Serene and soft in the light that's beginning to filter through into the room, and Cain glares down at nothing before he forces himself to just cross the line of guilt that's sitting heavy like a wall between them so he can touch him. His fingertips graze his hair the way he'd wanted to when he'd first woken up, eventually pressing a little more to tuck it around his ear, and his knuckles caress the curve of his jaw, trying to pull him from sleep without a hard shake of his shoulder. He's certain he needs the rest, but he wants to talk to him.

He wants to hold him. He wants to ask Abel to forgive him.

Cain keeps his expression neutral when he says his name, cutting the silence finally. It's progress given the state he'd been in last night, and if he doesn't acknowledge him, he'll say it again and lean over him like his own closeness will force Abel to look at him. ]

[Too nice, maybe, the enticing offer to remain asleep and purposefully ignorant. The scattered and brief glimpses of past encounters his mind continued to (not so) helpfully turn over in it's drowsy idleness, emboldened by the presence of Cain he'd thought was the only part left behind, made him believe he really could feel the hand that gently reached for him, that brushed the hair from his eyes and made him (actually) turn his head, palm warm against his cheek and easing free the air from his lungs in a soft exhale. Hips shifted and his body quickly followed suit, Abel rolling over onto his back and turning towards the partner he knew wasn't actually there but his still uninterrupted dream implied, the allure not something he felt the need to ignore.

Except he was met with the repetition of his name and the face probably behind the sounds that had finally provoked a reaction instead, bleary eyes almost crossed as he took a few moments to try and blink away the confusion of what was real and what wasn't, to pull the unfamiliar bedroom back into focus.]

What the hell- Cain?

[That was new. Managing not to all but jump right out of his skin at the unexpected wake up call didn't feel like much of a victory when the racing flutter of his pulse could still be felt by the hand moved to press against his chest, a feeble attempt to soothe the panic widened eyes belied.]

...You're here.

[ He doesn't know how to process that response or his reaction. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to get so close and be gentle about it, but there'd been no way Cain could simply wake him up like it was another day in space. In their old life. But this place is neither, and he reluctantly draws back, fingers loose for a moment before he curls them into a fist and rests them on a thigh. Why had he even thought to do this? Had he been thinking? There's just too much uncertainty in all of this, head down somewhat so that he can stare at Abel through his peripheral and not look as if he's actually looking too hard at his face. It's the same as he remembers it, as it had been last night despite the darkness, and it would be so easy to just lean over, to pin him down into the mattress and kiss him until he forgave him. Yet...

He doesn't. Instead, he slowly turns his head towards the door in a vague gesture that gives away nothing. He's been in this place long enough that they could get lost discussing it or exploring and never have time for anything else, but it's been looming over Cain for almost a month, not having that kind of closure. (At least he knows, with certainty, he thinks, that Abel isn't dead.) ]

I can leave, [ he mutters, a nonchalant comment that betrays none of what he feels. Pretending to have a level head in this situation is impossible given how Abel had found him last night. ] But I thought you might want to eat first.

[ If he wanted to sleep more, Cain would go. Still, it's impossible to miss that subtle together he hadn't verbally tacked on to the end of that statement. ]

[The tension was almost too much to bear, thick and heavy and quickly filling the space between them. The space Abel still desperately wanted to cross- but didn't, seemingly just making it that much more expansive instead with palms pressing firmly into the mattress, leverage used to push himself up until he was seated, back against the headboard.]

I thought you died.

[Still the words bubble up and out before he can bite them back (again, echoes of the night before), the need to impress that he had been looking for him and wanted, at the very least, to see him again stronger than the argument that maybe he should just leave well enough alone because Cain wouldn't even really look at him. He'd been the one to end things, after all, the one to push Cain away when he'd tried to reach out, what right had he really had to so brazenly walk back into his life and ask him to stay with me?

You cook? intrusively made itself known in the back of his mind, belatedly, deliriously but it was at least one thought he managed to keep to himself.]

I just... wanted to see you.

[Stupid, he was still just so stupid.

Hadn't even answered, caught up more on rushed not apologies than whatever roundabout small talk Cain was attempting.]

Edited 2019-12-13 22:57 (UTC)

[ He remembers that. He remembers it and doesn't want to, abruptly turning back to Abel with some quip on the tip of his tongue. Cain thinks he should be angry, and some part of him is. He'd arrived here alone, bleeding and in so much pain, but worse than that, he hadn't found Abel anywhere, the memory of it stark as he recalls the fights he'd picked and the people he's fucked with simply because he felt no need to do anything else meaningful with his time here. But Abel hadn't given up, and the guilt just skyrockets until he doesn't know what to do with it, until he's standing and turning to look at him head-on. ]

So did I. [ Now, he just sounds tired. ] I looked everywhere, and no one gave me any answers. I – [ Cain curses under his breath, very obviously Russian because he's annoyed and the confusion doesn't help him make sense of any of this. ] Last night... I could have hurt you.

[ And he's very aware of that fact, thinking about the glass and the way he'd easily knocked Abel to the ground. Even drunk, Cain could have done some real damage, and isn't sure which part's more worrying, dragging a hand through his still damp hair before he turns back to face Abel. If he keeps running, would they ever solve anything? Would Abel ever know how sorry he was or how much he wishes he could have told him before things had gone to hell? Maybe everything just seems pointless now, a pipe dream he'd chased into the bottom of every bottle he could find on Lunatia.

His expression is painfully morose. ]

I don't want to do that more than I already have.

[It's been almost a month-

Neither were at fault but it was still something to consider, wasn't it? Cain hadn't known if Abel was alive either but he'd had to wait so much longer to find out, cut off from any news about home, unsure when or even if he'd ever hear from them again. Already the same worries had started to nag at the back of Abel's mind and finding Cain had only barely begun to placate them. If he'd been alone here...

His feet hit the floor before he'd really even realized he'd started to move, the desire to just make this better driving him forward, closer. Someone had to stop talking around things, and though he wasn't entirely sure he could do it-]

I don't- [want to be hurt again. A pause and his hand lifted, moving to rest lightly against Cain's upper arm. Hesitant. Unsure whether his touch was still wanted but unable to ignore the draw to do so anyway.] I don't want to hurt you anymore either.

[And that was it, really, they'd both done and said things that left them heavy with regret, a pain that wasn't so easily chased away by gentle touches and nights spent curled back in one another's arms. But if there was a chance to move past it, to lay truths bare and work through what still felt overwhelmingly impossible- then Abel wanted to at least try. Had to, the thought of losing Cain far more painful than the lies that had made him push him away in the first place.

Losing him again, his blood still stained in the Navigator's uniform Abel had tucked away out of worry that he'd just be making it easier for the Alliance to hunt him down.]

I just wish we could start over.

[ ...start over?

It's a nice sentiment, but Cain doesn't think they could, even if they tried. There's already too much history between them, too much that he knows about Abel to ever forget, and the way he grips his arm grounds him so heavily to this moment that there's no hope of fighting it and running away. All of his plans, as poorly built as they had been, dissolve quickly under the weight of that touch, leaning towards him until he can get his hands on Abel and pull him forward. The warmth is something surreal, something he isn't sure he'll get used to, but he wants it so desperately, greedily. And since Abel is reaching for him, Cain takes it, pressing his palms into his back and dragging him in as close as he can possibly manage without suffocating him.

He doesn't think he's wanted anything more in his entire life, a terrifying thought considering, and even if there's going to be more – more talking, more arguing, more of that general disdain on Abel's face with the truth – he refuses to let go. It's a need that surpasses everything, even the uncomfortable tension in his chest. No matter what he might think, he has to give Abel something. So — ]

Maybe we can.

[ It's soft, whispered almost too quietly, but it's all he has to really offer, some consolation in all of this that likely won't last long. Still, Cain drags his fingers up to cup Abel's face, holding him there as he leans to press their foreheads together. A month without him had felt like a lifetime; where would he have been if it had stretched on even longer than that? ]

[The way that Cain touched him had always been a lingering thing, the heat of hands against his bare skin and comforting weight closing in over him something so vivid it stayed with Abel even when they were apart, occupying the better part of his days. That it's amplified here only made it that much more difficult to remind himself that maybe there was more to address than a shared simple admittance of trying again, that they shouldn't allow themselves to become lost in one another, continuing to ignore a resolution they both sorely needed.

Or maybe it wasn't the worst idea, lengthy conversation and shared feelings never really a part of whatever thing they'd had. Before, Abel had learned all he'd needed to know from the feel of knuckles tracing along the side of his face, the way Cain's expression had softened when it had just been the two of them and the forced barrier he kept up outside of their room could lower- if even only a little, offering glimpses of the man behind the assigned name, something Abel also knew only he had been allowed.

And here, somewhere in the after, it didn't really matter what they said either when Cain was cradling his face so gently and so stubbornly chasing away what little physical distance remained between them. It said enough, didn't it? For now, at least, enough of an answer for Abel to offer one of his own in the slight tilt of his head and the kiss he hoped laid bare the desires he hadn't quite been able to vocalize, fingers curled around and gripping tight the fabric of Cain's shirt, stubborn in their show against the threat of distance too.

i still want you

i think i love you too]

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