synflux | ( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

Your spot.

[ Said to the tune of "…riiiiight…" His eyes flick over to the number next to his door, 011, then to Sampo's supposed door, 012. He actually stares at them rather intensely before he concludes that… no, this heatwave hasn't done jack to his vision, he's reading perfectly fine.

What isn't as perfectly fine is the invitation to be let in, potentially veering into territory that

Elysium willfully does not think about! ]

You sure about that? If you extend the open invitation to someone so easily, [ 'someone' ] you really won't be giving yourself many options in the future.

[ he says, like the 'now' isn't as precarious or even more precarious in certain respects ]

[Why is he looking back and forth. This is his door, idiot. Why is he...doing.....

that.........................]

[Well.]

[Shit.]

Mm.

[Oh, this is....news, huh. Weird, he always did wonder why his neighbor was out, and now. This is news! This is...bad? Bad, maybe? Maybe bad. Okay, get it together, Sampo Koski. You're light on your feet for a reason-]

Ac-chem. [And a light little laugh, for good measure.] No, I think I'll be giving myself a lot of options. With "someone". Unless that "someone" is really shy, which...well, I can't control that, can I?

[He's slipping his hand back to his door handle, staring at Elysium with lidded eyes all the while.]

[He always did like danger.]

[ There's something to be said about how LILITH has decided to organize them all into their little teams and how Elysium is forced to contend with the fact that their similarities maaaaay go deeper than what they present superficially.

Like, it makes sense.

But also.

He can't help but want to laugh out of… what. Offense? Incredulity? Not that now's the time to think about it, when he's strained to keep his expression up as is. ]

Hardly. [ An experimental step forward. Then, another. Another point to how it might've been possible for Sampo to have missed him all this while: he keeps to his feet just as lightly, covert missions having been the name of his game for the past few years. But these steps? They echo, resonating through the empty hall. ] This 'someone' just thought you'd wanted more of a chase.

[ 'Aren't you the shy one?'

He leans forward, eyes glancing between the handle and… somewhere else, before they settle back on Sampo's eyes. Does he still have the ribbon………. Let's say he wouldn't have been able to see it from his earlier angle. A good two weeks is enough time to get rid of it, right? Meanwhile, his flag… continues to be missing its banner. ]

Unless you're already looking to move onto the next stage of it, that is.

[He's Mister Cold Feet. What does this make Elysium? Mister Hot Feet? Ridiculous.]

[This really is ridiculous. This whole thing. Once upon a time, before anything, this would've been a nice game for two. A flirt here, an innuendo there. But here, it always feels like they're on a teetering drawbridge, unsure which way to go. There's the chance of falling. He's trying not to look down, here.]

[Elysium's eyes flit back to where he keeps his knife holstered. There's a swatch of vivid red there. Sampo's own eyes follow it, smile momentarily shifting - unsure where to go here either, a frown or a grin - before settling back into something more casual.]

How arrogant of that "someone". Do they really think that a simple invite to a room means the chase is over?

[He's turning the handle now, coolly.]

I think it's only just begun. But who knows? I'm taking my own path, here. I'm not putting "someone" on a leash.

[ As tense as the atmosphere is, something in him shifts with the appearance ribbon. The urge to laugh arises again, and for an entirely different reason; he sees the way Sampo's eyes follow his own, and not sentimental his ass. It comes with the sobering realisation that the sight of it might've brought a little too much relief when he struggles to hold back a grin. Logically, he really had expected it to be gone the next day.

Which begs the question: was he hoping for something else? Well. It isn't quite a question anymore so much as it is a fact that he has to begrudgingly accept. Sure, they're on a teetering drawbridge… but before that, Elysium knows how to concede to a complete loss when he sees one, and there his smile is, genuine and almost--

self-conscious. ]

… Haha. I was right. It really does look nice with what you usually wear. [ …ooh, that isn't exactly it. a beat before he tries again: ] My colour, that is. [ … ] Not that it didn't look fine, back then.

[ still, the moment passes by within seconds, and the next thing Sampo will know, Elysium's slinging his arm around his shoulders, bombastically knocking their heads together. ]

But alright, alright. Relax! That 'someone' isn't in the hall with us. [ Sampo can take it as his win. Could he consider it a win? ] What's got you all serious, bro? Heat getting to you? You're right, it's just an invitation to your room, nothing that crazy. Have you already had the chance to decorate? Is that why you're so eager to show off?

Your color.

[My color.]

[He really should strangle this guy for saying such a thing. But a kneejerk impulse, he knows, is just another ball to juggle, adding to the act of things to prevent him from really feeling what he knows he feels.]

[There are crocodiles below the drawbridge. The last thing he wants is to be eaten.]

[The awkwardness wants to make him step away, but Elysium is closing the distance. Their foreheads press against each other.]

[Sure, this could be a win, in this pathetic little standoff. But he's distracted with how close the man is. Here and now, he could simply let his arms drift forward, tuck him in tight, bury his face into his shoulder - just like before. Ugh. Erase that notion. There's nothing here. Nothing should be here. Or rather, there's something there, but its so knotted that he doesn't know where his hatred begins and where the fondness ends.]

[His eyebrows are knitted even as he replies and tries to inject a little extra mirth into his voice as his nose brushes against the other's.]

I'm really not that serious. It's like you don't even know me, pal. [He laughs.] I'll be honest with ya. It's not all that decorated, but maybe it's something to see. Maybe I have a really big secret I don't show anyone. You don't even know!

[ His colour, his red; the same hue that has dusted itself across Sampo's cheeks several times already, striking enough to elicit a cheeky comment or two. But many a truth is said in jest, as they say, whether one happens to be entirely cognizant of it or not.

It's both better and worse for Elysium to be made aware of it, as if been he's forced to acknowledge the sensation in his chest for what it is, heavier than he'd cared to admit. But the bright side is

he can still stop it from growing, is more equipped to, and that doesn't sound all that bad if what's needed to balance out the highs and lows is merely an occasional pang. ]

Maybe so, but what you were saying back there sounded pretty threatening, y'know? It's even scarier that you said it while being all casual. Talking like there's a hunt going on, about taking your own path, leashes. Rather than deal with this complicated stuff, it's sounding like it's time to tell the guy to buzz off.

[ Good friend Elysium laughs alongside Sampo as he extracts himself to urge him forward to open the door. This is more 'them', isn't it? Casual. Light. Not that serious. If it isn't going to dispel the strange atmosphere going about, then it isn't needed. Moving on, moving on. ]

Threatening? Me?

[He hasn't seen it. Not really. He hasn't seen Sampo Koski at his worse, all craftiness and silver-tongued and snake-eyed. He's seen snippets, only. Sampo's never let himself get that deep.]

[If he really was threatening, he would simply do it. Kill him where he stood. And that would be that, and the nuisance that Elysium is would be out of his life. No more worries. No more pondering over cracks of black rock peering through skin. A decisive move, and it would be over.]

[Elysium pulls aside to push him towards the door. He feels not unlike a guest who is being ushered out of the house after making a ruckus at a party.]

[No, that won't do.]

[He sees red. Elysium's color, wasn't it?]

[He opens the door, but in the same movement, he's taking Elysium by the collar to yank him, practically throwing him into the room before he's following suit with an intentional speed. Another grab, and he's forcing the man against the wall, fist cinched tightly into the man's clothes to keep him there.]

[Sampo Koski smiles.]

I'm just having a good laugh. Aren't you?

[ It happens rather quickly, the yank into the slam. So quickly, that all Elysium has by way of a reaction is a startled sound and a quiet groan when his back hits the wall. By most standards and perspectives, he isn't unlike a cornered animal. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but his sense of danger has always been skewed—and so, he simply regards Sampo with a curious cant of his head, perhaps tickling the fist at his front with stray strands of longer hair in the process. ]

… Are you having a good laugh? You've said it a couple times now: that it's like I don't even know you. And, I'll give you that. You're not a simple guy to figure out.

[ Sampo Koski smiles. Elysium stares back with his own and a level gaze. He's remained motionless for the most part, but much like how Sampo's said something to him plenty of times already, Elysium's repeating another common exchange between them in kind, taking a hand to brush and hold his bangs to the side of his face as if to sweep whatever it is that's taken ahold of him away.

How complicated. So, they need to simplify things. ]

But I think I've heard enough of them to say that it doesn't seem like it. I don't need to know someone well to be able to differentiate between laughs, Koski. [ another pang, another sigh. then, another out in how his eyes move past Sampo to glance at his room. ] How about we just give it up? I can keep a secret or two for you. If you want me to tell you something in exchange, I can do that, too.

[Elysium's hand brushes through his bangs, revealing both of his emerald eyes that are, for everything they are, dull as dull can be. His grip doesn't let go, either, like there's some part of himself that has thrown down steel walls that he can't and won't budge on.]

[Exchanges, exchanges. That's been his whole life, hasn't it? Markets, the rise and fall of money, a favor here, a favor there. And he's always reached for the weights to tilt it in his direction.]

[Greedy, greedy.]

[He lets go, and he's thrown on the mask, chipper and saccharine and cheerful all the same. Sampo strides back into his room. It's a little different from a regular room here. A mannequin with a long black wig and dress stands in the corner. There are various boxes, here and there, some open, some not. There's nothing on the walls, here. No personal touch in that regard.]

[There is, however, a little snowglobe on the side table. A simple one, kitschy, with a little house in the middle of a snowbank. Sampo moves to place his knives next to it, before sitting down on his bed with a little huff of a sigh and a tired look.]

I'm a businessman, remember. If you want an exchange, maybe I'll be all ears. Depends on what you want to put on the table.

[As if he didn't hear anything of the first part. Maybe he just chose not to.]

Edited 2024-07-02 20:48 (UTC)

[ Dull eyes stare back, and Elysium would be the first to say that that's no expression for any friend of his to wear. When Sampo does let go, he breathes something like a metaphorical sigh of relief. Yeah, keeping those steel walls would be for the best, wouldn't it? No need for him to go and mess them up. ]

Right. That's why I said what I did.

[ The distance between them is kept purposeful, Elysium's arms crossing as he adjusts his position against the wall. More than ever, a gulf has expanded within the few steps it would take to reach the other's bed. Elysium pointedly ignores it, and as his field of vision becomes unobstructed, his eyes scan the room, not lingering on any one place or object until they reach the snow globe, where his expression thins for that brief moment. As if above everything else, that's the secret that Elysium finds himself most troubled by.

Oh, brother. He closes his eyes, and allows his head to hit the wall lightly. ]

How about this, I can answer any one question you'd like me to. Whether or not a secret is worthwhile knowing is subjective, isn't it? Or I can owe you a favour. I could offer my flag again, but you've already expressed your disinterest in it. [ a laugh. ] Unless a tour of my own room is enough of a trade-off for you? I'll say it first, there's really not much to see.

[It's a distance that is so small and so large at the same time. Elysium doesn't cross it. Not like he expected he would, anyways. Sometimes birds can't be convinced to be moved from their perches for anything.]

[He muses on the offer for a moment, brushing over his bangs again to fall easily over one eye. Haha, not the flag. A question? A single question. Or a tour of his room.]

[They do seem rather intriguing, and he smiles, snake-like eyes fixated on the other's face.]

A question for a question, then. I think a favor is too big for you to offer. And I am curious about your room, but....I could probably head there anytime. Hehe. Go ahead. Ask me.

[Yes, he's offering Elysium the first hit.]

How bold of you! Especially when you don't even know when the next time you'll be able to catch me be.

[ Considering Elysium had managed to elude him for something like two weeks without trying, apparently… but if he ever decides to take a peek for whatever reason, it's even less decorated than Sampo's own, the only tell that it's Elysium's room in particular being stacks of paper and drawn, half-finished maps. At least, whenever electricity returns, there'll be the constant backdrop of Linkin Park… but is that a good thing??

Aaaanyway, his eyes are staying closed, the picture of relaxed. ]

… And are we exchanging? Here I thought I was the one offering you something, as collateral to let bygones be bygones. [ no more of this weird… tension… for real for real… ] Is that not the case anymore?

I have my ways.

[^_^]

[He leans his head against a hand, his foot languidly tapping against the floor, even though his eyes remain fixed, unable to leave Elysium.]

Yes. We are. I'm giving you the first one in a thing that we in the business world call "a gesture of goodwill". Besides...

[He laughs into the palm of his hand.]

Let bygones be bygones...do you really believe that?

[ Unlucky that even with his eyes closed, he can envision the scene before him in vivid detail just from the sound cues alone. A part of him wants to tell Sampo to cut it, but if he doesn't use his clarity of mind now, when will he? The taps. The laugh. They're both harrowing in different ways. ]

Are we counting that as your question? [ a beat. ] Kidding.

… If I'm being honest, I'm a little exhausted. If I say I genuinely want them to be, will you work with me? That's mine.

[Would he work with him? The Sampo of the not so distant past would take that opportunity in a heartbeat.]

[Now, it feels so murky that he can't jump at a specific answer. He ponders it for a moment, eyes flitting down to the floor.]

...I don't know that I say that I could. I'm a thorn in people's sides like that.

[That's as honest as he can make it. He doesn't like it, either. But at the same time...they've gone so far off the beaten course here, haven't they?]

[And now, his question.]

...What are you so afraid of, Elysium?

[ Wrong answer, bzzzzt. Still, he opens his eyes with a smile, gaze falling on Sampo. ]

Fair enough! I'm used to giving things a solo effort.

[ There's a single beat following Sampo's question; Elysium isn't going to pretend that he hasn't thought about it already. ]

That song you sang, back then. Does it have a name? [ It doesn't matter, really, whether Sampo chooses to answer the question. What matters is that a particular set of lyrics which have stuck with him—presumably why Sampo had uttered them, to begin with.

Seconds pass, and at the tail end of them, Elysium winks. ]

It's you. [ Because it'd been different when Sampo had saved his life out of pure spite; because it's different now that things aren't about the flirt here, innuendo there. He was never meant to get invested—they, weren't. ] My disease has an absolute mortality rate, Koski.

[ It's not death itself. It's never been about death itself. He doesn't need to extrapolate any further than that, does he? But with that, he pushes off the wall—a cue that he's about ready to leave with their transaction done. ]

...."If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking". It's sung by a beautiful lady in a dream.

[He answers, readily. Birds are born with no shackles/Then what fetters my fate? What fetters this bird's fate, the snake asks?]

[Elysium gives an answer. It doesn't feel sufficient. It's you? What is that supposed to mean? As if he did anything. As if this wasn't just all because of some spiteful feeling under his skin, twisting its coils where it shouldn't.]

[The man moves. And Sampo moves with a flick of his wrist, almost too quick for the eye to perceive, and there's a whoosh of air past his face and a loud kerchunk.]

[His dagger, thrown, now lodged into the door of Elysium's exit. The handle of it is blazen red from a banner wrapped around it.]

....Humanity has an absolute mortality rate. See, I could get stomped on by a kaiju the next day, too. [The Fool says, casual, as if he didn't throw a weapon, as if he bears no harm, as if this still isn't himself fighting with this chaotic, restless feeling. He moves to stand.] So, is this you trying to save me? Or save yourself? Either way...one day, I'm going to die. Could be today, could be tomorrow, could be fifty years from now. Maybe I should die tomorrow. I'd like to see the look on your face if I do.

[Of course its mean. Of course, his tongue is being used for something sharp. He steps forward, almost brushing close to pull out his dagger to twirl and grasp in his hand.]

Don't decide for me. The more you try to force me, the tighter I'll squeeze. So lay off, friend. Okay?

[ If they could stop two hearts from breaking, wouldn't that be ideal? But how fitting, in every respect: a song by a beautiful lady passed down to a beautiful man, sung in the solitude of a nightmare that even now Elysium considers a dream.

A knife flies by; Elysium laughs. Wouldn't it be nice to be on the other end of it? Then he wouldn't have such a large hole to dig himself out of. ]

Did you want me to cling onto you, then, friend? Be your shadow to keep you from getting crushed underfoot, eke out every last day with you as if it's our last? Hehehe, weren't you calling my persistence one of the worst things about me?

[ Sampo draws close, and there's the urge to draw him closer to see where that takes them next. Would they plunge to similar depths? Go deeper? Weeks ago, Elysium just might have—no, he would have. He'd flip their positions on the wall, see what expression that would elicit, whether it'd be bright anger or embarrassment. He'd be amused, he'd laugh, because, at the end of the day, he could pretend that fascination was the only motivator.

Elysium remembers the desperation for another day. He'd really like not to, expression locked into casual nonchalance. ]

I'm not trying to decide anything for you, man. Like you said, I'm just trying to save myself. Look at you, getting serious again. Was this all it took for you to cave? [ His smile curves, almost just as mean. Maybe Sampo can guess what he's thinking from the mirth written all over him—damn, he didn't even need to show up in a dress. ] I said I was tired, but I'm bored, too. It isn't uncommon for people to change their minds.

...Haha. No. I wouldn't want any of that. I don't think so, anyways. Then again, what does Sampo Koski want, anyways?

[He doesn't answer his own question. Instead, he gives an overly dramatic shrug, before holstering his knife once more. So, guess that's that. His petty outburst couldn't even keep this bird from wanting to fly out into the great beyond.]

[He should be okay with that, right?]

[The way the man smiles drives that thorn in his own skin a little more.]

Me? Caving? Naaaaah. I'm getting bored, too. I'm all about fun, and you're like pulling teeth, my fine feathered friend. I pity your friends. I pity me, actually. [He's really not bored. Just saying it. Whetting his knife. Really, this isn't like him. Sure, he's a nuisance, but he's never wanted to hurt like this. (Is it really hurting him, or is it just shaking him until he wakes up? He doesn't want to think about it.)] But! You do still owe me that drink.

[A playful little poke to his chest. A pause, and then a little helpless expression, as if he's just a pathetic, lonesome busybody, and nothing else.]

[His eyebrows tilted upwards always make his eyes look a little sad.]

...Just at least grant me that, alright?

Edited 2024-07-05 22:31 (UTC)

[ Like pulling teeth. Like they've been falling into monotony and maybe they have been, with their constant push and pull, but the cacophony in his chest suggests it's anything but. A person to promise to see the end of the world with, whether in the literal or figurative sense—now, isn't that something? Sampo doesn't want it, Sampo has always been flighty. Right. The fiery red gets tucked away: that's always been his colour, not Sampo's. A superimposition that was never meant to happen. Being told directly, however facetiously and despite them mirroring his own words seconds ago… is, well, medicine he'll just have to take. ]

… I want you to miss me, but I wouldn't want you to miss me too much.

[ Before Sampo has a chance to inspect the minute change his demeanour, he's mussing Sampo's harder than he ever has. ]

Don't make things sound so final, you'll get me all sad. There's plenty of fun to be had in front of us beyond just that one drink, Koski.

[ Back to form, he's taking the same hand and tracing it down the side of Sampo's face. He isn't rough, but there isn't anything particularly tender about the movement either, completely deliberate in its movement. Elysium cups his cheek, and a thumb dances across his lower lip. ]

It's been a while, hasn't it? Since the roguishly handsome shady comic relief and charmingly cryptic friend made their return on the stage. They'd certainly left their audience on a cliffhanger. You don't think that was fun, too?

[Maybe this is just how its always going to be. A dance of the sun and sea. A waltz, even, in triple time, trying to ignore the dance of a dream. Sampo steps forward, Elysium steps back. Elysium steps forward, Sampo steps back. And so on. And so forth.]

["There's plenty of fun to be had" he says. He doesn't think that's true. This is painful in its own way. There would be only pain to follow. He wonders if he knows that.]

[Elysium grasps him by the face, brushes over his lip. He opens his mouth, naturally. Its all so within their roles. None of that pesky extra stuff, buried in another time.]

[He smiles, but he's tired.]

[He's really just...tired. But even he can play a role, in any setting. Sampo turns his face ever to slightly to kiss the man's thumb.]

Mm. It was fun. You really know....how to put on a production to pull the whole world in.

[ Pain is easy so long as it's predictable. You get used to it and it acclimates to your daily life. At least, it'd be a constant compared to what they have now, a different pain entirely that Elysium's never quite had to navigate before.

… And the whole world of his audience of one, was it? But then, Elysium would want a lot more than just a production. But if such a production is what Sampo wants— ]

What high praise for someone who's supposedly not even all that handsome.

[ —then, an entire production is what Sampo will get as Elysium reciprocates Sampo's hint of a kiss far more tangibly, pressing his thumb firm against his lips with a smile. Continuing on with the momentum, his eyes droop—he takes advantage of Sampo's parted mouth to slip his thumb in to its first joint, further dragging it open ever so slightly. ]

Why is it that you don't sound terribly confident, though? Need a reminder, perhaps?

[Elysium's thumb pulls into his mouth, tugging an unnatural grin with the way it forces it. He misses those fangs, suddenly. Was he even venomous, back then?]

[What a production. His hands itch at his sides. Even through farces like this, there's still a grating desire that gnaws like an empty stomach. He pulls his mouth away so he can say his words clearly.]

You may be growing on me. [A laugh, masking a vague sense of annoyance. Part of him wishes to diverge from the script. His finger moves to slide a little against the man's chest.] If you wish to give it...then do it. Don't be a coward. This roguish heart can't stand a wishy-washy sort of fella.

[ tmw it was barely over a month ago when sampo had been calling him the most attractive person he'd known… what is the truth here.

jk. no one needs to touch that with a ten foot pole. But Elysium watches blankly as Sampo's traces a line against his chest. Sliced open, it'd reveal the heavy thrum of his heart, the urge to shiver and swallow held back by how both their ceiling and floor threaten to cave on top and under them.

They're in the middle of a heatwave, and yet—he can't help but feel cold. It's funny, too, how he instinctively returns the laugh over trying to catch his breath properly. ]

The day I give you your drink, then. It deserves nothing less than my full attention, when we're well past our work and whatever else they have in store for us. [ 'Sampo' deserves nothing less for successfully pulling the rug from under him. ] … Surely, your roguish heart can agree with that?

[ … said markedly weaker, because he isn't any less tired than he was moments ago. He isn't as infallible as he'd like to pretend he is, as he's shown many times before. If there isn't an opportunity to slow, then… he'll just have to make the opportunity himself, batting away Sampo's hand, first. Both hands on Sampo's waist, he slides them under Sampo's arms and wraps them around his torso, pulling him close before burying his face in the crook of his neck.

look

if Sampo's allowed to do it, so is he…… like everything else, he has no one to blame for this aside from himself ]

… I'd rather keep you around than not. Don't get me wrong. Hehe. I'm no coward. Just giving myself another thing to look forward to while I'm at it.

( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

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