synflux | ( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

[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.

[Can he agree with that?]

[He can't answer. The words are stifled by the man's movement. At once, he feels a shiver and a thrum of heat all at once, course anywhere, everywhere. He stiffens, eyes wide, part of him thinking that maybe, just maybe, this whole thing will wash always into a dream once more, like its always been biding its time like a predator.]

[Nothing like this happens. Elysium's face is against him, his arms embracing him.]

[Sampo's eyes flit downward. His hands hover.]

....You'd keep me around, then?

[Would he? Could he?]

[Sampo heaves a sigh, before his own hands, as if unbidden, wander to embrace the man in turn.]

I want that day to happen sooner rather than later, y'know.

You have as much of a choice to stay or leave.

[ As he always has. But there's a certain finality to it, missing most of his usual irreverence. What does it mean? It's a mystery. Sampo probably feels the shrug well before he sees it from his periphery. They could exchange as many words and gestures as they'd like, but who knows, really, where they're headed to? Where they aren't headed to?

Smapo wants the day to happen sooner than later—meanwhile, Elysium would very much like it if

the day never came, actually, emphasised by how entirely wrong their limbs feel against one another, as if the gulf between them has continued to persist despite themselves. If he were to hold on tighter, would it eventually disappear? Probably not. Definitely not. He doesn't try, and instead, opts to extract himself with a laugh. Yeah. The embrace ends as soon as it begins.

That's one way to make it go away. ]

… Talk about impatient.

[ pat pat of his palm on Sampo's cheek, and then he's looking on over his shoulder to the door. ]

But me too, man. It's been a long time coming. Permission to get to work now? [ He turns back to flash a smile. ] Keep this up, and it might never happen if they decide to ground us for skirting our duties. Wouldn't want that.

[ truly……… ]

[Elysium pulls away. He might be the sea, but Elysium sure wants to take the turn of the tide here, receding from his grasp. Taking a leaf from his book here, huh? When the going gets tough, leave.]

[Elysium will leave.]

[He smiles in return, mirror image, but he's first and foremost a criminal. He reaches for the man's cheek to tug him in

and steals a brief little kiss, just like that.]

[And then, without further ago, he's practically shooing him towards the door, pat-pat-patting him as if to encourage his flighty nature. It stands in opposition to his wants, but even he doesn't want to string this bird down too thoroughly against his will. At least, not now.]

Go, go then! Just go. You're a busy, busy bee of a guy, after all.

[Wouldn't want that, no.]

( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

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