synflux | ( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

[ no problemo friendo

Earlier missteps aside, Elysium won't make the same mistake of expressing an emotional response. The lack of recognition isn't any less concerning than it was an hour or however long ago, but panicking wouldn't benefit them, would it? Or maybe if he did have less confidence he'd be less persuasive. Either way, he's fully convinced the problem lines in Sampo… ]

… It's why I suggested retreating to one of the defense lines. You'll get the chance to be checked up by a medic. Get whatever else you think you might need. Whole lot more options back there.

[ Evidently, Elysium's made the decision that Sampo isn't in any shape to be out where they are. So he hovers around close, bracing himself by placing a hand on the top rail of his chair. ]

Sorry, Koski. Can't say I fully understand what you're going through at the moment, or help you through too much of it. But I'll do what I can for you, too. It's the least I can do.

[ He moves the same hand to the top of Sampo's head. No ruffling this time, just a single pat that lingers even after that's done. Would he feel the same sense of comfort from a tangible weight? Who knows with Sampo Koski. Elysium will try nonetheless. ]

...

[The least he can do.]

[The hand moves through his dark blue hair - and pulls back. Maybe its his serpentine nature now, or those past fireworks of intensity that make him feel reckless, wanting to grab that hand back to nuzzle into its heat. It's soothing, though, he can't lie to himself on that, and he heaves a sigh.]

[Sampo Koski, whatever will we do with this mess?]

Sampo Koski never lets friends who've helped him come to harm. [...Okay, no, he can't fully relinquish the urge, reaching out to grab his wrist. He paints on a smile, as he always does.] So stick with me as long as you can, yeah?

Edited (MY HTML) 2024-06-04 03:39 (UTC)

[ His attention moves to the hand around his wrist, and he shakes it around as if to give a show of trying to break free. The bare minimum amount of effort; he isn't trying terribly hard, or at all. ]

Or else what? [ A tight little smile. He bends forward and cants his head to get a better perspective of the man. Teasingly: ] You'll catch me as you have now?

[ The fact that Elysium can't fully judge the accuracy of such a scenario, both on his part and Sampo's, has him discarding the notion the moment he starts thinking about it. Best not to. ]

I'm usually the guy people try ro catch.

[He's the slippery one, the con artist and criminal who evades justice day by day. To think of anyone capturing him is laughable.]

[But what happens when the pursued becomes the pursuer?]

[....Ah, he really doesn't know.]

[His hand detaches to press a finger playfully against the other's nose. Boop.]

You may tease, but I'll put my all into it. Just for you. No extra cost. So you'd better not.

[ His pulse quickens. His eyes narrow. Is it from an instinctive desire to rise to a challenge, or is it something else? ]

Despite what I say, I don't think it's all that fun when only a single person is putting in legwork.

[ Firmly but gently, Elysium is the one to catch Sampo's finger in his hands this time, fingers grazing along the side of it as they move to prod Sampo's own hand to unfurl. And if he's successful, the intent will be to match their hands from palm to finger tip; his hand shifts the slightest bit, and if he were to press forward, their fingers would be all but intertwined.

But he doesn't. He won't. Regardless of success or fail, he'll drop his hand as if it's been scathed. ]

… Haha. Let's save the jokes. This isn't exactly the time to be making them.

[ Were either of them joking, though? There's a distant memory where he had said the same words in a situation where he hadn't meant it, and whether history stands to repeat itself, they'll have to see. ]

But if you are feeling well enough to start cracking them as you are, that means we can be on our way soon, right?

[ starting to think that mmmmmmaybe it's not such a good thing that they're alone together now. ]

[Hand to hand. Finger to finger. The way they tense against each other is like a net, a set of jaws to snap forward to capture one another. Like that vice in the bus seat, teeth against ear, teeth against throat. But even he isn't surprised when Elysium drops it.]

[Perhaps there is a thread of similarity after all. He can't help but lament a little, though. To tease so blatantly feels like a page from his book.]

Haha. [A laugh as always. Sure, sure. A joke. He can think that. Sampo places his hands against his own knees to stand.] You got a point. Let's head out, friend. Time waits for no one.

[ Time waits for no one, it's true. What awaits them outside continues to paint a bleaker picture of their circumstances: Iberia, the country they've found themselves in, has simultaneously died and come alive in the time his squad had initially been ambushed to now, Seaborn bursting at its seams from every possible corner. If one had to guess, they've decided to start their onslaught in earnest. Every route Elysium tries to take, there's either a cluster of creatures laying in wait or that damned brand pulsating tauntingly from the floor—as if they know, somewhere within their confines (…and they probably do), there are people who they've yet to claim.

Still, Elysium's never not known which direction to take, that much is obvious. He reroutes as if that's specifically what he's been programmed to do without even a map on his person. But approaching on several days of being on the run and stowing in various shelters, some abandoned, some newer with supplies to replenish themselves with (how he knows about them, Sampo might ask, and Elysium would simply smile knowingly), even Elysium is starting to wonder about the probability of being to cross this side of the border.

Some more trivia Sampo will undoubtedly enjoy learning at one point: that they'll have to be careful about hunting and especially fishing just anything, as Seaborn are liable to assimilate by means of being eaten themselves, too. If what they eat has eaten any amount of Seaborn? Yeah. Things likely included in their daily routine: attempting to shamelessly grab hold of more tail every evening, and short exchanges with the defense line until one day——it goes silent.

That very same day takes them slightly inwards instead of outwards. One imagines, at this point, they've also picked and chosen their fair share of battles along the way. ]

… We'll have to backtrack where we came from if we want to try another direction. [ … ] Unless you want to try breaking through where their line might be weakest.

[ in another one of the shelters. on another one of those days. earlier, this time, to really collect their bearings. ]

[Monotony in its own way is a poison. Not that the Seaborn and its assault on this land is monotonous, but rather, day by day, its becoming expected. The initial fright and distress of the situation has eased into a sort of manageable tension that's smoothed out the edges of it all. It's easy to rely on Elysium, with his compass-like skills, and fall into line. But that's wrong. The memories of the past, of LILITH, a time where the other man wasn't playfully sliding a hand up a tail that he never had before, feel distant and vague in a sort of fog.]

[Perhaps that was a dream. Perhaps he had just been addled by the situation. Anyone would go a little mad in such circumstances, and the destruction he sees and the paranoia that rings in the back of one's mind at any little shadow or movement or weird scale on a fish could've easily made him off course.]

[(But something is wrong. He sometimes falls asleep with his tail curled around himself, and has fretful dreams where cash purses smile with teeth and flowers stare with eyes. Something is hanging over him like a shadow. He laughs and laughs until his teeth fall out, and he wakes up, and he's relieved to find Elysium there, like an anchor of white.)]

[Elysium is a nice distraction. A welcome one. But a distraction nonetheless. He has to keep that in mind. It's harder to keep in mind.]

[The sudden silence of the defense line is enough to set him on edge, though. He's cleaning some muck off of his dagger, raising his eyes to glance at the man's face.]

Mm. Choices, choices. [He lets out a slow whistle.] Doesn't sound good either way. But what do ya think? How weak is "weak"?

If you're completely back to form, it might not be so bad.

[ Is Sampo their DPS… has he become Elysium's super special fandom OC that compensates for his lack of pretty much everything? Because for the most part, Elysium's just a guy with a sword and there sure are Seaborn patrolling in the skies now. ]

… But give me a few days, and I'll be ready to contact HQ.

[ He's looking out the window as he says this; his choice of wording might come off as a bit strange. ]

I imagine there's an infrastructure problem going on more than anything. They're getting smarter.

[He is NOT a DPS get him OUT OF THIS he is a DEBUFFER THANK U VERY MUCH!!!!!!!!! Unless Elysium wants hm to go all out....anything to show off maybe.....]

And "you'll" be ready? You don't need to sit down and talk your feelings so you can get emotionally prepared, right?

[He's joking, of course. But he does notice it, also glancing to the window.]

That's.....not a reassuring thing to hear, buddy. Any way to dumb them down?

[ bro we got a sniper support and a debuffer no wonder we're DEAD and look if Sampo wants to be cool the one (1) time and never again, the stage is all his ]

… Wow. You really don't know anything anymore, do you?

[ Not quite meant to be condescending, but there's something of a snort of disbelief. ]

I lost my flag back when we got ambushed. [ for all they yapped, damn, Sampo is one of the few he never really traded skillsets with, huh. ] Here I thought you were being compassionate by not bringing it up. But I'll need to stop taking my suppressants. Oripathy. No bells?

[ on the note of bells—there's a bell ringing in his head, which causes him to frown. but yes let's not talk about the latter which there's nothing we can do about, ]

Don't say that! It makes me sound like my brain's empty! Sampo Koski's still got it...

[HEEM HEEM WHIMPER]

[But.....hrm. Something about it nags at a part of his brain, both unfamiliar and familiar at once. Oripathy.]

[(There's the brief glimmer of a memory of trailing a hand over dark rocks embedded into the flesh along the other's waist. He thinks on it, and it disappears like mist, leaving a coil in his stomach.)]

Oh....right. Because you got that....skill? Right?

[ not like it won't become abundantly clear when he starts hacking up his lungs but they'll cross that bridge when they get there ]

A transmission doesn't just carry itself halfway across a continent.

[ anywhooooo, crossing his arms and tapping a finger on his arm, ignoring the migraine that's probably because of the situation and not something thoroughly unrelated. ]

… If we're taking a risk, I agree that breaking through's probably our best option. A few days to get to the spot I'm thinking of, and by then we'll be able to see if HQ has anything new for us.

[ Monotony's a prison, is it? But the past few days haven't been too bad, in Elysium's opinion—more than once, he might've considered what travelling with just the two of them under different conditions would look like. ]

This'll probably be the last real rest stop of our journey.

You're a regular antenna, aren't you, birdie.

[It's kind of cute, in a way. He doesn't know the details, but the image of Elysium on high, shouting his words for miles and miles...like some grand hero, heard by all.]

[But the cost. But...the cost.]

[It unnerves him more than he could care to admit. By the... (He pauses. Aye....A....something), what is going on? Attachment. It must be that. And boy, is that a dangerous thing.]

[Better put it aside. They have to get through this.]

You sure you don't want to take a breather? I mean...this next part sounds like its going to be a doozy. But regardless...I got your back for this one.

[ He's trying a little too hard to be a hero, probably. It's not something he can hide to himself when it's a topic he's been ruminating over for years. Extend just enough to be lauded as one, be smart and pull back when you know the odds are completely against you. It's a different story when you're left with no choices, but was he really left with none, here?

Could he make that much of a difference? ]

Well, you won't find much better than me to be stuck in a situation like this with. And, I suppose I could say the same about you. [ … ] That you haven't been all that bad to be around.

[ Short of someone who would have the firepower to blow through their enemies, maybe. ]

Just kidding. It's not hard to imagine someone going mad from how quiet it's been. A single guy can only fill so much silence in by himself. [ Which, is what Sampo has always been: a guy to kill time, to poke and prod, to perhaps see what lies underneath. He was never that committed to it, and he's imagined it would end in something along the ends of an "oh well." It doesn't make much sense in the context of them working alongside each other—why?—but his head once again protests that line of thought. ] I thought about it on the first day, but—…

[ For the first time since their conversation had begun, Elysium tears his gaze away from the window to look at Sampo. It's a little easier to let it naturally fall on his idle work, the blade he may or may not still be cleaning. ]

…—you never really came across as someone who'd get all sentimental on me. [ translation: he would actually much prefer it if Sampo wasn't getting sentimental on him. then maybe, he could convince himself that their interactions were less genuine for it. ] Whatever the case, we'll get you out. I'll get you out. Even I don't know what my full potential is, you know? I could end up surprising the both of us.

["Haven't been all that bad" he says. Yeah, he'd expect that. He's not some popular, beloved figure of the world. He's the shadowy comic relief. He's the side character. He is not to be admired and put on a pedestal.]

[He is not the one to be saved in any scenario. And he's been fine with that. He has his role.]

[This feels different. Unsettling but not in some overly negative way, just...unfamiliar. He's used to being chased. He doesn't know how to take this, a sincerity that almost feels like it isn't deserved.]

[But at the same time, in these times, Elysium is all he's had. He's all he's relied on. Is it that abnormal, to want to grab on, keep him close? His idea of elation falls upon the dignity of all mankind. He doesn't want to be the last one laughing.]

...No, I'm not really the sentimental sort.

[But...? But. He also glances at the window, the tip of his tail swishing from side to side on the floor in lazy, thoughtful, but tense little circles.]

But regardless of that, I'd like to see you surprise me. [He smiles.] Besides, I can't let you hog all the glory. Tit for tat, my feathered friend. I'll get you out, too. It's only fair, right?

[ Get out him out, too… and then what? Elysium wants to ask. Elysium releases the full extent of his Arts, they breach the Seaborn's barricade. From there, it won't be a playful game of hide-and-go-seek; they'll actively chase them down and Elysium himself becomes a liability when the likelihood of finding and receiving treatment would be closer to zero. A little harrowing, is that there's no guarantee even if he himself holds the line.

Unless.

…

The answer to his earlier musing is that no: he was never meant to be a big hero, or make that big of a difference. But, he has made differences and if he could save one more life, then, perhaps, he could make peace with that. A hero for one.

For a man he's known for a month. For a man who, in the past month, he's somehow exchanged parts of himself that he never has under the pretense of…something. When did they have the time and luxury to? Nevertheless, Elysium isn't the type to assign value to lives. Evidently, there's something Sampo wants to return to whereas in contrast, from acceptance of the mission, Elysium had always planned to be buried in Iberia. Even outside of their specific circumstances, Elysium would do the same for the next person.

Still. It'd be nice to be remembered. For who he is, or was. ahem. ]

No way. Are you actually taking my comment about preferential treatment to heart? A guy's going to misunderstand, at this rate.

[ Eyes curve in obvious mischief. As it goes when there's something to hide. ]

… But what you said about a breather—that does sound nice. We've covered a lot of ground these past few days; it's almost impressive that you've managed to keep up. I really wasn't expecting you to!

[ Another non-answer. One could say, at some point, he'd pilfered vials of questionable origin… he'd never planned on using them himself so much as sending it back for research purposes, but he knows what they do. He's seen what they do. He thumbs them in the pocket of his coat. ]

Is misunderstanding really that bad?

[Is it that bad at this point? After all this time? He's never been one for relationships, he's the first to go when anything gets remotely serious. It's always been easy with Elysium, precisely because it's been easy, but something...feels like it isn't enough.]

[He's decided it. Right here, right now, looking at that amused look that he can tell is hiding something more vulnerable, a scab to a wound he doesn't want to address, that he'll have the best joke in the world when all is said and done. Elysium will expect that one will come out of this mess. The punchline will both of them making it. Sampo will have the time of his life laughing at a man who never expected for these underdogs to succeed.]

[He wants to laugh. Unwinnable odds, twisted by fate. He wants Elysium to laugh. Joy is one step closer to divinity.]

[He shakes his head, reaching for the man's wrist to place his hand on his shoulder. Here, give it a squeeze. He's no spring chicken.]

It's like you haven't even looked at me, pal. I mean, I may not be as sprite and agile as the youngsters, but I do have some meat on my bones, here. You should really get those eyes checked!

[A little chuckle, his eyes also creasing in mischief. Also hiding. If he notices the move of the other's hand in his pocket, he doesn't address it]

....What do you wanna do? For our little breather? Do a little date out on town before we go to war?

[ It's okay to misunderstand, was it? Elysium hasn't been looking at him, he says? Sampo approaches and his gaze moves to meet his directly. ]

Haven't we been going on them all this time? [ A laugh, ] Aren't you bored by now?

[ An emphasis on a new beginning, and an emphasis on an end. It's not as if he knows what Sampo's thinking exactly, but for him to say it how he does: he's wagering on the both of them, here. Their last game, isn't it? Sure. Elysium will impress precisely what the stakes are. ]

Say. I have a better idea. If misunderstanding isn't as bad as you claim it is——

[ Sampo places Elysium's hand on his shoulder to squeeze, but when, if ever, did Elysium enjoy being predictable in their games? The same hand slides down to his arm. It lingers there for a beat, for two beats, before it goes further still to loosely circle Sampo's wrist. ]

——then it should be fine, shouldn't it be? For you to indulge me.

[ That's about all the warning he gets before he's roughly tugged into Elysium himself, his other hand looping around to guide Sampo into an open-mouthed kiss.

revising the four bases and potentially hitting home run but at what cost ]

[The hand flutters downward, before landing on his waist. It curls around the curve, tucks taut against the lower back. He doesn't even have enough time, here - like he's found himself with the trap clamped around him when he least expected it.]

Ah.

[That's all he can say. He's pulled in, a fish on the hook, and those lips meet his like a threat for more. Those terrible lips that have been something he's lightly imagined worrying with his own day by day like a necessary task, though he's been pleased to simply live in the mental moment than actually expecting it would be brought so bluntly to his door. How terrible he is.]

[Sampo feels the rush of heat paradoxically shivering from his neck down, returning the kiss with a mild whine. A second, two seconds, and he's pulling back briefly with a lopsided grin. He murmurs.]

You're a real bastard. But I think you knew that already.

[Another kiss. Another. His eyes are shining, like jewels, as his own hands cup the man by the chest.]

I...haven't been bored. [He admits, before stealing another kiss.] Just...a guy's gotta dream big, you know?

It takes one to know one, doesn't it. But, I know. You don't have to say it.

[ What does he know, and what does he not have to say? It's open to interpretation. Like many of the other adornments hanging from their shared sky.

But a kiss with the slightest bit of bite, and if Sampo tries to pull away Elysium tightens his grip and holds him closer still. Where Sampo might be more content in taking things slower so to speak, Elysium's assertion is that they're on a time limit, dropping his hand lower to clasp their hands together. He won't think about where these impulses are coming from—not now, not later, but pecks are hardly gratifying for the sheer amount they've danced around each other in the past.

So, he deepens the one. Keens and accelerates them into a breakneck pace by clashing their tongues and dropping his arm to feel the heat of Sampo's bare back. That point is to leave them—him, with no mind to consider the what if Sampo emerges victorious from their wager. He won't.

After all: was it not Sampo who'd said that too many others had given their poor lives in search of Elysium?

The sun and the sea: a brief glimpse in what could've been. One burns, one drowns. What isn't up to interpretation is that to Elysium, this will be their only window to it, clear in his gaze and with every deliberate touch. Never mind that Elysium himself had been abstaining from relationships for this same exact reason. Figures, that it'd also be what ruins his resolve. ]

[He has been chased into a dead end, has he? And now, he is seemingly at Elysium's mercy. He gasps as that hand finds his back, arching it against him as he returns the man's attack of a kiss.]

[He detaches with a wet noise, pressing forehead against forehead as he hisses:]

You play the ball well.

[But not better than him. He won't let it. A part of him recognizes this impulse. A nauseous, twisted pleasure that rises like bile. The name of it? Desperation. He won't let Elysium win. The fight will come, but if there is ever a chance to stake his claim and declare his intentions, its here and now.]

[Which is why he makes the sudden move to yank his hands down to push him roughly against the nearest wall, sliding in to eliminate the space with torso against torso. His tail turns to wrap around the man's ankle.]

[Sun and sea. The sun will never burn away the expanse of this water no matter how hard it tries.]

I'll give you a moment to look back on, friend.

[Because Elysium will look back on it. He will stand and walk and sing and smile and dance. And he will witness it, no matter what comes.]

[He sinks his lips against the other's jawline. Kiss upon heated kiss down his neck, with a rolling forked tongue and a groan. His hands slide down naughtily, one threatening to slide around to the back to that nice curve.]

[ Sampo thinks he's at Elysium's mercy, but Elysium himself is at the end of his own rope. Greedy, Sampo had called him. Yet, Elysium wonders if he knows the full extent of it, from how he's lived his life to his options he takes now. Elysium satiates one desire; two other desires rise to take its place. Even if there's still plenty he wants to see and plenty he wants to experience, Elysium himself has never been tethered to any one thing or person, his life merely a piece he'd been willing to play when the timing was right. He'd only ever owed it, once.

Now, it's there. Sampo can try all he might to win it while he's up against the house. Rather than express surprise, a sound more akin to a laugh is what escapes his mouth when he's pushed up against the wall as if, yes, he'd been inviting this all along. ]

Then, it's only fair that I give you a memory in exchange.

[ From the hand he'd had on Sampo's head in comfort, to the way he'd almost laced their hands together the first time, and to now in how he reaches to touch Sampo's forehead to run his fingers through his bangs, leaving a path, an outline, that traces all the way along the frame of his face to his shoulder. They're all pieces, perhaps, of a story that could've existed in another world. Or, it's possible it's a story that only exists in this precise moment of time, with all the variables lined up as so because of who they were.

It's an exceptionally gentle gesture, everything considered. He'd never thought about it before, but Elysium thinks, briefly, that he might've always wanted to dedicate himself to someone like this, a roost, a sea, that he would want to return to day after day. But that's neither here nor there, and the moment is replaced with the reality that the intent isn't so pure when he could hardly say they've known each other long enough for the depth of such feelings to exist, setting aside the incompatibility of it with their personalities. Greed. That's precisely what it is, with the illusion that Sampo might've or ever could've been that person.

Sampo sinks himself into Elysium and with it, Elysium both gasps and shudders, voluntarily curling into him and exposing more of his neck, with his nails digging into his shoulder. One instinct tells him to run, the other overpowers it, thriving under the weight of Sampo's desperation.

But Elysium's no slouch, either. He appreciates the position. It's novel. Still, a war comprises of several battles, and this is one. With his free foot, he'll attempt to knock Sampo off his equilibrium by hooking and sweeping it under one of his legs. There's a table nearby—and Elysium thinks Sampo would look nice, or nicer, splayed atop of it and trapped between his two arms, but not without stealing nips at exposed skin in the process. ]

… Whatever the end is this time, [ if curiosity very will "save" the cat instead, ] I'll play with you until the closing act.

[The touch is so so gentle. It's the type of gentle that almost infuriates him. He wouldn't consider himself an angry person, and even here, he's not angry at all, but it makes him feel like he should be. Instead, he falls back on a more familiar motion: spite. The way the man trails his hand through his hair, down his neck, over his shoulders - that's not the simple caress of a lover. There's weight to it, seeping into his bones and drawing more of a vibration out that threatens to shake him to his core. He only has a moment to enjoy where he is, humming into the exposed skin of the man's neck, before that leg swings in.]

[Like a tree, he falls, wincing as his back hits the wood. Elysium won't give him any quarter on this battlefield, though, and he's gasping as the man's mouth bites over his neck.]

[Ah. What bliss. What horrible bliss. His tail is dislodged from the man's leg, but it returns with a vengeance to curl over his waist with a squeeze.]

[Why don't you join me on stage?, an Elysium whispers from another world, into his ear. There are an awful lot of empty positions at the moment.]

[Sampo, of course, barks out a laugh. His arms twist around the other's body to tuck him nice and close, hips lasciviously jutting up for friction as he kisses him over the forehead, his cheek, the corner of his lips with a widening smile.]

You do know what the concept of an "encore" is, right? Let's bring the house down, birdie. We'll get one right away if we do.

[ in which there is no merciful god, just aha

And just as mercilessly, Sampo leaves Elysium with little gaps to take advantage of for a follow-up by launching one of his own, leaving both scant air left in his lungs and a sharp inhale to compensate for it. ]

Ah. Is this how the world's finally ready for us?

[ Them, as the leading roles in their story for two. His eyes shine bright, smile wide, despite how his body betrays his nonchalance with how it's left quivering from Sampo's veritable barrage of attacks. Unadulterated desire, shot through from the venom of Sampo's figurative fangs. It's enough to make a man feel delirious under the intensity of it, with the jut enough to elicit a quiet moan. ]

… With an invitation like that, I can hardly say no. Until you tire and fly away, then——I'll give you as many encores as you'd like.

[ For all his greed, Elysium's words continue to be distressingly soft. As if he's reached an acceptance, as if he's ready to give Sampo all he wants save for the one thing he's wagered, an indulgence reserved exclusively for him, in this crack of time. But the show has to conclude sometime, as it goes with a metaphor attached with a predetermined end, and no amount of extending would change that.

And if it must go on—all the more that it'll have to regardless of any casting changes.

But for now: the stage is them. Elysium answers Sampo with similar fervour of his own. Winding one hand into Sampo's hair to muffle him with another kiss, the other trails teasingly along the hem of his pants, deftly undoing what needs to be undone. Sampo probably feels the smile more than he sees it when his hand playfully slides to rest on the underside of his hip, nails grazing taunting circles onto his skin.

The fewer words they use against each other, the better. But maybe it isn't, considering just how much their bodies are doing the talking. ]

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the most belated cw: just don't look...

cw: God Help Us (also maybe nsfw just. don't look)

(crystal voice) we only have ourselves to blame