Disclaimer: see some other chapter.
Notes: A darker chapter. Things will brighten up, though. Next time: shonen-ai!
VwV VwV VwV VwV VwV VwV
Holiday
by Nightfall Rising
part thirteen
AwA AwA AwA AwA AwA AwA
With a sense of sureality, Zel realized that Gaav was beaming at him proudly, as though he'd never heard of such a creature as a Xellos. He tilted his head enquiringly, and was rewarded with a widening of the thick lips. "I take it," Gaav said in a much mellower tone than Zel had heard from him yet, "that I won't have to worry about how you'll take care of Valgaav."
Deciding that it would be good manners to play along with his host's decision that the last five minutes hadn't happened, Zel smiled at Val, who obligingly sauntered over and threw an arm around his shoulders, and simply returned, "We'll manage."
"Dynast has informed us," Gaav went on, again as though no comment had been made by anyone but himself (and possibly using the royal we), "of your expedition's successful acquisition of the Claire Bible. A noteworthy accomplishment. You are to be congratulated."
"You do know how to kill off the year with style," Val agreed proudly, and leaned in closer to suck contentedly on his stony blue neck.
"I prefer to think of it as starting off right," he returned complacently.
"Eh," said Val dismissively. "You're just strange."
Gaav cleared his throat to get their attention back, and said, looking very pleased with himself, "When you return from your bloodmoon, a favorable position will await you in my tactical division."
"That's very generous of you," said Zel, who would have died before showing he was touched at having his talents taken in consideration in the middle of the nepotism. "But I wouldn't be able to accept it right away. You see, the success of the Claire Bible expedition makes it possible to put a certain plan of my own into effect."
"Oh?" asked Gaav expectantly, not displeased.
"You see," he began, eager to show off the insights Lina had hammered into his thick skull with a large pointy stick and a big mallet, "a person can't have something like this," he waved at his face, "happen to them without it taking over their life, at least for a while. With the Claire Bible, my search for a way to fix myself is over. I want to take some time to remember who I am, and what life is about, and how the world works, and what people are like with other people.
"After all, power by itself is no good to a person who doesn't know who's using it, and what for. Don't you think?" He faltered at the slow burn on Gaav's stony features, and turned to his fiance. "Val, help me explain it to him." But Val's beginning-to-be-annoyed incomprehension was no better. "Well, you understand, don't you, Val?"
The appeal to his son, as though this were something Val would approve of, seemed to mollify Gaav to the point where he was willing to give Zel's intentions the benefit of the doubt. He groped, "You wish to build an individual name for yourself?"
"I hope you won't try to make me feel guilty about wanting to strike out on my own," he warned. "Even if it turns out to be a worse idea than helping my grandfather with his research, even if I've had enough and given up on humanity for good in six months, still, I want to see. If I join up with someone now, I know there'll never be another chance. So no one can mind if I just have a try, can they, Val?" After a moment, beginning to suspect that he ought to be concerned, he insisted, "Can they?"
With a very worried expression, Val turned to his father (practically clutched his lapels), and coaxed, "Daddy, let me talk to him alone for a minute."
"After I've eaten his kidneys, son," Gaav rumbled, more or less calmly.
"Please, Daddy," Val pressed. He was, Zel was taken aback to note, batting his eyes. "I'll take care of it."
"Greyweir," Gaav addressed him angrily, "Your timing is worthy of my other boy for awkwardness."
"Daddyyyyyy," Val whined.
"I see, sir," Zel said stiffly. "Maybe--"
"Daddy!" Val shouted, frustrated, and immediately moderated his tone. "Please go up. We'll be there in a minute."
With the angry exit of the large man with the fangs, Zel relaxed. He sighed, and forced his fingers under the wires to scratch his head. "I don't think he understood what I was trying to say," he said ruefully.
"What the hell made you do that?" Val exploded, gesturing wildly in a way, Zel didn't miss, that showed off his chest to good advantage. "Why the hell would you deliberately piss him off with talk like that? Tonight!"
No more simpering, Zel noted, relieved. "Talk? You think it was just talk?" he asked, letting his eyelids drop skeptically.
"If that," Val contemptuously snorted.
"It wasn't," he said shortly.
"Don't you realize what Daddy's offering you?" he demanded.
"I think," Zel said calmly, struggling to keep his temper, "that some clarification is in order."
"I'm clear," announced Val in a tone that would brook no arguments and which Zel had no intentions of paying any attention to. "You've convinced yourself that you're ready to retire, which is bullshit because aside from not having hit thirty yet you're a hyper little bulldozer. I mean--look, sometimes people realize they're tired after they take a vacation. We can take a good long one if you want, give you a chance to pull yourself together."
Catching his temper's tail just before it escaped for good, he said, "I don't need to pull myself together. This is something I want to do. Are you even listening to me?"
"Yeees..." Val said hesitantly, and then blurted, "But you don't know how exciting our business can be. Give it a chance. I know you'll love it. There's nothing more rewarding than rearranging someone innards into kanji with your bare hands."
Zel stared at him, disturbed.
"What?"
"..."
"What?"
"...Give me a second to work through that image. Then we can return to the increasingly evident fact that you have this bizarre comprehension block around what I'm trying to say."
Val's brow furrowed. "What's wrong with internal balloon kanji? It's fun. Even my wimpo brother likes it."
All Zel could hear for a moment was the sound of his inner voice calmly informing him that it wanted a brownie and a cup of coffee. Right now.
VwV VwV VwV VwV VwV VwV
When his ears cleared up, Val was still talking. "...Actually better at it than me. So maybe we should wait until we get back from our bloodmoon and let him teach you. I know you'd be good at the incision, with your skin, and since you don't break your lockpicks I bet you could--"
"Val? Has it dawned on you that after my expedition gets back I'm going to lose the skin?"
Val shrieked loud protest, and kept it up for quite some time. Weredragon that he was, he burned the doggie-bed to a blackened lump. Zel winced. Xellos was not going to be happy.
When the screaming had stopped and sulphurous eyes were glaring death at him, he uncovered his long, sensitive ears and scowled, "It isn't as though it's an irreversible process. Brau demons aren't uncommon, and golems are easy, and I kept a copy of the notes. I just want to make the experiment and find a few things out about myself. Try a little faith, will you?"
Val went over to the doggie bed, pulled a pair of dress daggers out of his vest, and shredded it like a weedwhacker--the furniture, not his vest. This seemed to calm him down. He was much more in control when he came back. "Look. Zel. It's really a good idea to get established first. That way... uh... that way Daddy can give you resources. Yeah. Wait a year or two, okay? For your bitch?"
Zel regarded him for a long moment, deeply disappointed. "You think you can work me around to your point of view by then," he stated. "Don't you."
They were in the middle of a silent standoff when Xellos dispiritedly kicked the door open and drooped down on one of the bar stools. It took him a moment to notice Val's alterations. "Year death in--oh. Oh, dear. Zelly's going to slaughter you at a moderate pace, Val. She killed that polar bear with her bare mouth. I may help."
"Was it that comfortable?" Zel asked.
"Not really, but I tracked it down for her. Year death in six minutes, if anyone's interested."
"Come on," Val said, grabbing Zel's wrist.
"Did Lina and Sylphiel leave?" he asked Xellos, who shrugged.
"Maybe they're upstairs," Val suggested.
"All possibilities are possible until it's definitively proven that they didn't happen," Xellos agreed, uninterested. "I left them in my room. Anybody want some cold cuts before they start the big whoopdefizz? There's some lake dragon sashimi. It's only aged a few weeks, it should still be nice and toxic." He popped a piece into his mouth from the platter on the bar and chewed dispiritedly.
"You coming up?" Zel asked. Xellos lifted eyes to him that said, 'I assume you must be joking, but I don't care enough to ask.'
Val was glowering. "Listen, you pigheaded--"
Anger turned the sharp eyes almost rose quartz, and he began with some heat, "I'd rather be pigheaded than a crawling, toadified--no," he mused, cooling back down into low spirits in a mind-boggling quarter second, "that never goes anywhere, does it."
Val rolled his eyes and started for the door. He didn't get very far, though, since his half-ton boyfriend wasn't moving. Surprised, he demanded, "Aren't you coming?"
"I'll stay a little with Xellos, if that's all right," he declared as politely as he could manage.
"But it's not all right," Val frowned. "Daddy wants us upstairs."
"I'll be up later, Val," he said quietly. After a moment, Val left, leaving Zel to be impressed that he hadn't slammed the door.
When he looked over, Xellos was regarding him with a low key but disturbingly maternal little smile. "You'd better go up, don't you think?" he suggested in a gentle 'I'm only thinking about what's good for you' voice.
"Not right now," he said, feeling about as depressed as Xellos looked.
"I won't be a very good host," he was warned. "I've done all my party tricks."
He said, "I don't need to be entertained," and didn't even care that his voice came out wrenched and soft.
After a moment, Xellos looked sideways at him, calculating and wistful and determined. "You wouldn't care to ease the birth of a new year full of boredom and disappointment with a dance, would you, Master Greyweir?"
"I very much would," he said, and his voice and throat were so tight that he didn't say anything else until the ridiculous penguin-shaped music box was wound and he was enclosed in warm arms that held his rough solidity like glass.
[end part thirteen]
Notes: A darker chapter. Things will brighten up, though. Next time: shonen-ai!
VwV VwV VwV VwV VwV VwV
Holiday
by Nightfall Rising
part thirteen
AwA AwA AwA AwA AwA AwA
With a sense of sureality, Zel realized that Gaav was beaming at him proudly, as though he'd never heard of such a creature as a Xellos. He tilted his head enquiringly, and was rewarded with a widening of the thick lips. "I take it," Gaav said in a much mellower tone than Zel had heard from him yet, "that I won't have to worry about how you'll take care of Valgaav."
Deciding that it would be good manners to play along with his host's decision that the last five minutes hadn't happened, Zel smiled at Val, who obligingly sauntered over and threw an arm around his shoulders, and simply returned, "We'll manage."
"Dynast has informed us," Gaav went on, again as though no comment had been made by anyone but himself (and possibly using the royal we), "of your expedition's successful acquisition of the Claire Bible. A noteworthy accomplishment. You are to be congratulated."
"You do know how to kill off the year with style," Val agreed proudly, and leaned in closer to suck contentedly on his stony blue neck.
"I prefer to think of it as starting off right," he returned complacently.
"Eh," said Val dismissively. "You're just strange."
Gaav cleared his throat to get their attention back, and said, looking very pleased with himself, "When you return from your bloodmoon, a favorable position will await you in my tactical division."
"That's very generous of you," said Zel, who would have died before showing he was touched at having his talents taken in consideration in the middle of the nepotism. "But I wouldn't be able to accept it right away. You see, the success of the Claire Bible expedition makes it possible to put a certain plan of my own into effect."
"Oh?" asked Gaav expectantly, not displeased.
"You see," he began, eager to show off the insights Lina had hammered into his thick skull with a large pointy stick and a big mallet, "a person can't have something like this," he waved at his face, "happen to them without it taking over their life, at least for a while. With the Claire Bible, my search for a way to fix myself is over. I want to take some time to remember who I am, and what life is about, and how the world works, and what people are like with other people.
"After all, power by itself is no good to a person who doesn't know who's using it, and what for. Don't you think?" He faltered at the slow burn on Gaav's stony features, and turned to his fiance. "Val, help me explain it to him." But Val's beginning-to-be-annoyed incomprehension was no better. "Well, you understand, don't you, Val?"
The appeal to his son, as though this were something Val would approve of, seemed to mollify Gaav to the point where he was willing to give Zel's intentions the benefit of the doubt. He groped, "You wish to build an individual name for yourself?"
"I hope you won't try to make me feel guilty about wanting to strike out on my own," he warned. "Even if it turns out to be a worse idea than helping my grandfather with his research, even if I've had enough and given up on humanity for good in six months, still, I want to see. If I join up with someone now, I know there'll never be another chance. So no one can mind if I just have a try, can they, Val?" After a moment, beginning to suspect that he ought to be concerned, he insisted, "Can they?"
With a very worried expression, Val turned to his father (practically clutched his lapels), and coaxed, "Daddy, let me talk to him alone for a minute."
"After I've eaten his kidneys, son," Gaav rumbled, more or less calmly.
"Please, Daddy," Val pressed. He was, Zel was taken aback to note, batting his eyes. "I'll take care of it."
"Greyweir," Gaav addressed him angrily, "Your timing is worthy of my other boy for awkwardness."
"Daddyyyyyy," Val whined.
"I see, sir," Zel said stiffly. "Maybe--"
"Daddy!" Val shouted, frustrated, and immediately moderated his tone. "Please go up. We'll be there in a minute."
With the angry exit of the large man with the fangs, Zel relaxed. He sighed, and forced his fingers under the wires to scratch his head. "I don't think he understood what I was trying to say," he said ruefully.
"What the hell made you do that?" Val exploded, gesturing wildly in a way, Zel didn't miss, that showed off his chest to good advantage. "Why the hell would you deliberately piss him off with talk like that? Tonight!"
No more simpering, Zel noted, relieved. "Talk? You think it was just talk?" he asked, letting his eyelids drop skeptically.
"If that," Val contemptuously snorted.
"It wasn't," he said shortly.
"Don't you realize what Daddy's offering you?" he demanded.
"I think," Zel said calmly, struggling to keep his temper, "that some clarification is in order."
"I'm clear," announced Val in a tone that would brook no arguments and which Zel had no intentions of paying any attention to. "You've convinced yourself that you're ready to retire, which is bullshit because aside from not having hit thirty yet you're a hyper little bulldozer. I mean--look, sometimes people realize they're tired after they take a vacation. We can take a good long one if you want, give you a chance to pull yourself together."
Catching his temper's tail just before it escaped for good, he said, "I don't need to pull myself together. This is something I want to do. Are you even listening to me?"
"Yeees..." Val said hesitantly, and then blurted, "But you don't know how exciting our business can be. Give it a chance. I know you'll love it. There's nothing more rewarding than rearranging someone innards into kanji with your bare hands."
Zel stared at him, disturbed.
"What?"
"..."
"What?"
"...Give me a second to work through that image. Then we can return to the increasingly evident fact that you have this bizarre comprehension block around what I'm trying to say."
Val's brow furrowed. "What's wrong with internal balloon kanji? It's fun. Even my wimpo brother likes it."
All Zel could hear for a moment was the sound of his inner voice calmly informing him that it wanted a brownie and a cup of coffee. Right now.
VwV VwV VwV VwV VwV VwV
When his ears cleared up, Val was still talking. "...Actually better at it than me. So maybe we should wait until we get back from our bloodmoon and let him teach you. I know you'd be good at the incision, with your skin, and since you don't break your lockpicks I bet you could--"
"Val? Has it dawned on you that after my expedition gets back I'm going to lose the skin?"
Val shrieked loud protest, and kept it up for quite some time. Weredragon that he was, he burned the doggie-bed to a blackened lump. Zel winced. Xellos was not going to be happy.
When the screaming had stopped and sulphurous eyes were glaring death at him, he uncovered his long, sensitive ears and scowled, "It isn't as though it's an irreversible process. Brau demons aren't uncommon, and golems are easy, and I kept a copy of the notes. I just want to make the experiment and find a few things out about myself. Try a little faith, will you?"
Val went over to the doggie bed, pulled a pair of dress daggers out of his vest, and shredded it like a weedwhacker--the furniture, not his vest. This seemed to calm him down. He was much more in control when he came back. "Look. Zel. It's really a good idea to get established first. That way... uh... that way Daddy can give you resources. Yeah. Wait a year or two, okay? For your bitch?"
Zel regarded him for a long moment, deeply disappointed. "You think you can work me around to your point of view by then," he stated. "Don't you."
They were in the middle of a silent standoff when Xellos dispiritedly kicked the door open and drooped down on one of the bar stools. It took him a moment to notice Val's alterations. "Year death in--oh. Oh, dear. Zelly's going to slaughter you at a moderate pace, Val. She killed that polar bear with her bare mouth. I may help."
"Was it that comfortable?" Zel asked.
"Not really, but I tracked it down for her. Year death in six minutes, if anyone's interested."
"Come on," Val said, grabbing Zel's wrist.
"Did Lina and Sylphiel leave?" he asked Xellos, who shrugged.
"Maybe they're upstairs," Val suggested.
"All possibilities are possible until it's definitively proven that they didn't happen," Xellos agreed, uninterested. "I left them in my room. Anybody want some cold cuts before they start the big whoopdefizz? There's some lake dragon sashimi. It's only aged a few weeks, it should still be nice and toxic." He popped a piece into his mouth from the platter on the bar and chewed dispiritedly.
"You coming up?" Zel asked. Xellos lifted eyes to him that said, 'I assume you must be joking, but I don't care enough to ask.'
Val was glowering. "Listen, you pigheaded--"
Anger turned the sharp eyes almost rose quartz, and he began with some heat, "I'd rather be pigheaded than a crawling, toadified--no," he mused, cooling back down into low spirits in a mind-boggling quarter second, "that never goes anywhere, does it."
Val rolled his eyes and started for the door. He didn't get very far, though, since his half-ton boyfriend wasn't moving. Surprised, he demanded, "Aren't you coming?"
"I'll stay a little with Xellos, if that's all right," he declared as politely as he could manage.
"But it's not all right," Val frowned. "Daddy wants us upstairs."
"I'll be up later, Val," he said quietly. After a moment, Val left, leaving Zel to be impressed that he hadn't slammed the door.
When he looked over, Xellos was regarding him with a low key but disturbingly maternal little smile. "You'd better go up, don't you think?" he suggested in a gentle 'I'm only thinking about what's good for you' voice.
"Not right now," he said, feeling about as depressed as Xellos looked.
"I won't be a very good host," he was warned. "I've done all my party tricks."
He said, "I don't need to be entertained," and didn't even care that his voice came out wrenched and soft.
After a moment, Xellos looked sideways at him, calculating and wistful and determined. "You wouldn't care to ease the birth of a new year full of boredom and disappointment with a dance, would you, Master Greyweir?"
"I very much would," he said, and his voice and throat were so tight that he didn't say anything else until the ridiculous penguin-shaped music box was wound and he was enclosed in warm arms that held his rough solidity like glass.
[end part thirteen]