( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

[transmit]

WHO: Elysium & friends(?)
WHAT: This is now just a catch-all for everything
WHERE: Everywhere
WHEN: 2024
WARNINGS: Blanket warning for possible explorations of dark themes in general, please tread at your own risk. I will, however, endeavour to include specifics in headers if applicable.

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[transmit]

[ What life could someone live in a place that stifled all forms of it? A dreadful life in court; a life that might as well have been spent living amongst ghosts. Perhaps they are more alike than Elysium would ever wish to admit, despite the divergent paths they'd chosen—or had been forced—to follow.

But Callisto moves, and before Elysium can say anything to that effect, his skin splits around Callisto's narrow blade, sharp and unyielding. Shock would ripple through him if he weren't already anticipating a violent income, but he bites down, hard, bolts of electricity blooming from the wound as his breath hitches and his brows crease, about the only pieces of evidence that Callisto had struck a person and not something entirely unfeeling.

He takes a moment. Two. He doesn't expect Callisto to give him any longer than that. ]

… Because I'll just sit on the sidelines watching you do whatever you want, right? [ His voice rasps, eyes flitting half-shut. The hand that had been atop the one at his collar slides down to the one around the scalpel. ] Make no mistake, my friend. Everything you've done now and everything you've done in the past—they're only because I let you. Someone has to take care of His Highness's tantrum.

[ That is, until the same hand tightens, knuckles blanching as he wedges it deeper without regard for his personal safety. There's no humour in his smile either, breath growing increasingly shallow and erratic. As his heartbeat drums, the edges of his vision begin to darken; the throb of his wound burns brighter, but that just seems to be fuel for his smile itself. ]

If you aren't feeling any better, you can go as far as you want. Go ahead. Aren't you the one always making threats against me anyway? [ If it were just his life, he couldn't care less. A paltry thing always meant to be given up for something else. It's too bad things aren't that simple. ] But, wanting to be at the end of the world with me… [ Laughter, strained against buried metal. ] I didn't take you to be such a romantic, Callisto. Sorry, sorry. It looks like I got you all wrong.

[ Whether his words do turn out to right, he meets what he can of Callisto's gaze. ]

You don't have it either, do you? A real purpose of your own. [ A finger traces a featherlight path along Callisto's arm, before it drops down to his side. Teasing. ] You're just going through the motions with me, reciprocating the intents of people who seemingly do.

[uncourteous]

[ the reaction, contrary to what he expected, does actually stay his hand. he keeps the pressure even, letting the scalpel slip deeper, only from the momentum of the weight of his hands. it's such a raw reaction and the only time he sees an array of emotion from a man who spoke so unfeelingly about someone he should have considered as a friend and companion. callisto almost has to laugh at his own perception of their relationship, if just because it was also unlike him to presume others were even capable of such bonds. at least, now he knows the real limit to that.

knows how far it extends.

it's almost the perfect metaphor in hand with how far the sharp edge of scalpel reaches. all the more when he feels elysium's touch against his own hand. it takes everything within him, not to react violently to the touch. ] Are you truly under the illusion of believing you hold any power over me? Or is that what you need to tell yourself in order to keep that fragile ego of yours in tact.

[ except, it looks like it can deepen. it can always go further than any of his expectations. when he sees the way elysium drives the blade into himself. he's never seen anything quite like it. the fervor, the intensity, the strained way in which he spits out each of his words like venom on his lips. they make him feel incredibly disgusted and he feels it down to the pit of his stomach. ]

The madness in your eyes are no different than the villagers. Do people know this side of you? Or in the end, am I the only person you can show your true face with? Its rather... [ unnerving. they're words he purposely doesn't finish. he pulls his own hands away abruptly, his hands dragging against elysium's chest before reaching for his neck. he presses a light pressure up against elysium's throat, leaving a bloodied mark from the fresh blood on his hands. originally, he wanted to warn him, to show him he could crush his windpipe had he desired it, but even that felt so utterly pointless.

nothing was scarier than a man who no longer feared death. ]

Romantic? I've never heard more incorrect words. Unfortunately for you, my desire for such things had long since expired. [ alongside lust, or any other such positive emotions. at the very least, he wouldn't be sparing them for him. ]

If you wish to revive them, you would need to do better than this pathetic display.

[ but, if elysium's objective was to put a damper on callisto's murderous desires, it does accomplish just that. as elysium said, perhaps he truly was directionless. especially without having to live for the one piece of vengeance he had over the enemies he had in the empire. ]