Court of the Fallen
least and last - Printable Version

+- Court of the Fallen (https://cotf-rpg.com)
+-- Forum: Out of Character (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=26)
+--- Forum: Important (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=27)
+---- Forum: Archives (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=38)
+---- Thread: least and last (/showthread.php?tid=1887)

Pages: 1 2


least and last - Loren - 10-01-2019

As always, Loren had gotten up earlier than everyone else in the Manor. He slept on a cot in the kitchen so that he could stoke the hearth fires and get food ready for the rest of the household. Of course, no one actually joined him for breakfast, but he left it out on the off chance anyone swung by during the day looking for a bite to eat. These days, however, he was feeling empty inside, devoid of all emotion. That didn’t stop him from getting out of bed in the morning. It just meant he was going through the motions and doing it out of obligation rather than an actual hope people might appreciate his efforts.

It also meant he looked like a ghost and a shadow as he walked down the hall to the nearest washroom to splash some water on his face and shave. He nicked himself a few times, but the barest effort of healing magic closed the small cuts, and he ignored the pain, since it couldn’t compare to the void where his heart used to be. He rubbed off the blood, then shuffled back into the kitchen.

Quickly, he changed into fresh clothes behind the screen he’d set up to hide his cot and belongings: they were thick brown wool, completely serviceable and utterly unflattering, especially given how they hung off his gaunt frame. He pulled on socks and boots, then walked out into the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea. That done, he took out some flour and started kneading it, losing himself in the familiar motions. Astra poked a bleary head out from behind the screen, then gave a tired grunt and trotted over to his side to lean against him. However, even that wasn’t enough to get a smile out of him, and the luxere gave him a worried look.

He pointedly ignored it.

Peter


RE: least and last - Peter - 10-02-2019

It had been some time since Peter had last spent a night in the Launceleyn manor. He had a bed elsewhere, one that was warmer than what he had in the big empty manor. One that made him feel more whole than what was supposed to be his home. But he couldn't intrude on Adam for so long without feeling bad, so he had returned to the manor, just for a night. To reset.

While he had been hoping to be in and out, like a ghost, the imagined specter who barely belonged, noises from the kitchen stayed his early morning escape. Instead, Peter creeps towards the noises, pushing the kitchen door open and holding his breath, as if that would keep him out of sight.

It's Loren. Only Loren. They haven't spoken since their spar in the forest, and Peter honestly can't remember if they've even crossed paths since then. Maybe that is what drives him to creep further into the room, holding his tongue until he's afraid if he doesn't speak he won't at all. Peter sucks in a breath, the air almost sticking in his throat, and steps closer again, no longer putting in any effort to keep himself silent.

[say]"What is... what are you uh... making?"[/say]


RE: least and last - Loren - 10-02-2019

After all this time without the two of them crossing paths, Loren had concluded that Peter had gone to live with his mysterious boyfriend that Beatrix had mentioned. However, there was the adopted Launceleyn, creeping into the kitchen as if he was afraid of the summoner’s reaction. Well, there was nothing to fear: Loren just lifted his gaze and stared at the other man, eyes mostly blank. Although the summoner had paused in his bread-making efforts, he resumed kneading before too long. Honestly, he was so empty inside he didn't know how to feel about this development or the other man's presence.

At Peter’s question, the summoner’s eyes flicked down to the dough. [say]”Bread. And tea.”[/say] His voice had a rasp to it, as if he wasn’t used to using it. Perhaps that was because recently, he’d been mostly silent, keeping to himself unless it was absolutely necessary. [say]”Would you like some? Or I can make you something else.”[/say] Not particularly wanting to see the other man’s reaction—Loren was a far cry from the excited and enthusiastic sparring partner Peter had last seen—the summoner mostly kept his eyes on the counter, watching his hands in their methodical pounding and flipping.

However, even though Loren knew he should probably just stay quiet, there was a thought at the very tip of his tongue. [say]”I haven’t seen you around the Manor recently. Everything alright?”[/say] It wasn’t a question (well except for the last part) and it certainly wasn’t an accusation; it was simply an acknowledgement of a fact they both knew. Peter was a grown man and had joined the family by choice. If he wanted to break free of them, that was his prerogative.

Loren, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. He had the Launceleyn blood in his veins and could never escape that fact. And these days, he'd stopped trying.


RE: least and last - Peter - 10-02-2019

[say]"You can... you can do, uh... make bread?"[/say] It seemed simple, like something he should already know, and yet the idea baffled Peter. Not that he'd ever put much thought into where bread came from. Not that bread had been a staple of his diet until he'd come to Caido. Moving close so he could watch Loren's kneading. [say]"I... I would like some. If it... if that's okay."[/say]

As casual as he was trying to be, there is concern in Peter's face, etched into his eyes as he looks from the dough to Loren's face. The other man sounds so weary. Looks so weary. It's a feeling Peter is well versed in, but not one he's ever found a relief for. Things just fade, the weight fading away, or maybe, becoming something he's used to. Peter fidgets, rubbing the hem of his thick sweater between his fingers and chewing on his lip, chapped from the cold.

Loren's question made his eyes dip again, shame rising up in the back of his throat in response to having his absence pointed out. [say]"Thing's are... yes, they're fine."[/say] It sounded like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince the summoner. [say]"I just... it's... it's weird, uh... being here. I don't..."[/say] Peter bit his lip again, hard enough to make it bleed, not that he seemed to notice. He didn't know how to get his feeling across, and be understood. [say]"I don't... maybe I shouldn't be around. Like, it's bad."[/say]


RE: least and last - Loren - 10-02-2019

The confusion on Peter’s face and in his voice was apparent, and if Loren had been capable of any emotions at all, he would’ve smiled (gently, of course) at the sight. The fact that something as simple as baking bread got that particular reaction from the other man was shocking, a little sad, and yes, downright hilarious. However, the summoner’s expression didn’t even change. [say]”I can bake bread.”[/say] Once upon a time, the Laucneleyns—Loren’s branch of them, at least—had been in hiding as farmers, and he’d picked up all sorts of useful skills.

[say]”It’ll take a while to rise, but there’s some from yesterday that should still be good. Do you want anything on it? Butter, preserves, cheese, meat?”[/say] His hands reached for a nearby bowl. Placing the dough in it and covering it with a cloth, he put that on a windowsill to rise. Next he pulled half a loaf out of a nearby cabinet, along with a knife; at that point he paused, waiting to hear if Peter wanted anything else.

Something in the other man’s manner made the summoner’s heart clench. If he’d been capable of providing comfort or reassurance, he would’ve, but just then he was barely capable of speech. Still, maybe that would be enough. [say]”I’m glad to hear things are going well for you.”[/say] At least one member of their strange family was doing okay. That was almost encouraging. However, maybe he’d thought that too soon: Peter bit his lip so hard it bled, and that definitely wasn't a sign of things going well. Setting down the food, Loren picked up a cloth and held it out to the other man. [say]”You’re bleeding. I can heal it, if you’d like.”[/say] Although the summoner’s voice was still dull, his actions were at least kind enough. These days, it was a bit of a toss-up how he’d react.

However, as Peter talked about not wanting to be around the Manor, it was Loren’s turn to bite his lip, though much more gently than the other man had. Leaning a hip against a nearby the summoner’s eyes searched Peter’s face for some explanation beyond the other man's stilted words. [say]”You don’t have to stay here if it makes you uncomfortable. And you don’t have to be a part of this family anymore if you don’t want to.”[/say] Everyone else moved on, in one way or another. Loren was used to it by now. And he wasn’t upset or angry about it anymore, just tired. He couldn't blame Peter for feeling the same.


RE: least and last - Peter - 10-02-2019

Every step of the bread making process was alien to Peter, and closely watched. Would Loren show him how, if he asked about it? Were they close enough that he could? Self doubt shouted the idea down before it could even approach his tongue, Peter swallowing it back in favour of silence. He wouldn't want to bug Loren anyway. The other man clearly wasn't in the kind of place to be being bugged by him, at least not for longer than this conversation. [say]"I like uh... jams? Sweet ones. Sweet... anything."[/say] The ghost of a laugh huffed out of him, Peter trying to dance around his words, be clear without burdening the summoner too much.

At the mention of his lip, of blood, Peter reached up, not really feeling the cut on his lips until his fingers stung into it, made it ache down into his chin. He winced, then reached out to accent the offered cloth, replacing fingers with fabric. [say]"I don't need... if you heal me, I...I won't learn."[/say] Though, he'd chewed his lips raw more than just this once, and still hadn't learned anything. But the words had left his mouth, and the only thing more humiliating than asking for help, for a soothing balm, was having to change his mind out loud.

[say]"I... I don't want to leave."[/say] This Peter sounded sure of, his voice still soft, hesitant in the presence of the other man, but not faltering. Being misunderstood had to have been his fault though, so he put more thought into his next words, hoping they would come across how he wanted. [say]"Zariah told me I could... have a family, and... and be a part of it, and I want that, I really, really do. But... I don't know..."[/say] He paused, sighing through his nose and looking down to the ground, his shoulders slumping in quiet defeat, the acceptance of a suspicion he'd had for some time. [say]"I think I'm just not... good for families."[/say]


RE: least and last - Loren - 10-03-2019

Well, for once Loren could actually provide what someone wanted without causing a whole bunch of heartbreak and strife. He’d almost forgotten that was possible. Maybe he shouldn’t count his blessings just yet, since he hadn’t actually do the thing and there was always a chance he would mess it up. He was certainly a mess these days.

Still, he went over to the pantry and pulled down a small jar of strawberry preserves; that done, he sliced a few pieces of bread and put them on a plate with the knife. Placing the plate and the jar in front of Peter, the summoner went to the kettle, which had just started to whistle. [say]”I can toast the bread if you’d like.”[/say] He took the kettle off, and poured himself a cup of boiling water, into which he dropped a satchel of tea. Although he probably should’ve looked, he didn’t really care which one it was. He just needed something hot, and he wasn't particularly hungry.

At the other man’s words, Loren almost smiled gently. However, he didn’t quite find it within himself. [say]”I never found pain to be a particularly good way to learn anything, or a good motivator.”[/say] It had been kindness and self-confidence—the former of which he didn’t receive anymore and the latter of which he lacked nowadays—that had made the summoner strong. And if admitting his family’s techniques were completely and wrong in more ways than one to Peter was a problem, well, they were all dead. [say]”Does this happen often?”[/say] If so, Loren would be willing to help the other get to the bottom of the issue. Actually, maybe it would be best to stay away before the summoner found a way to exacerbate it.

Again, as Peter spoke, Loren wished he had the capacity to show some warmth or affection, but it was beyond him at the moment. [say]”Well. I hope you're not saying that based on your experiences with my relatives. We’re not a good family, and definitely not a loving one.”[/say] The summoner's eyes had grown more haunted, if such a thing were possible, and he hated the bitterness that crept into his voice. [say]”Trust me when I say that you'll find a real family one day. I have no doubt, when you find the right people, you’ll be able to settle down.”[/say] Skittish as the other man was, he seemed like a good person. Definitely better than the summoner, who managed to alienate everyone in his life in short order.


RE: least and last - Peter - 10-03-2019

Apparently, he was hungrier than he thought, the smell of bread and jam making his mouth water and his stomach growl audibly. Peter was already rolling a piece of the bread up and lifting it to his mouth when Loren made the offer of toast. [say]”N-no, bread is... this is good.”[/say] He took a bite and tried a smile, despite the heavy mood that hung in the kitchen. [say]”Thank you.”[/say]

Peters brows pulled together when Loren disagreed with him, confusion on his face, not innocent like he’d been with the bread, but worried. [say]”I didn’t... I mean, it’s not... not a motivator. It’s... punishment for bad, right? So... so I don’t do bad. It’s not... like what you said.”[/say] At least, he didn’t want to think about it like that. It would open a door that he wasn’t ready to get near yet. Not now. Where Loren might have been able to pull himself away from the cycle of abuse, even temporarily, Peter wasn’t willing to admit that to himself yet. [say]”Does... what happen often?”[/say] Had he gotten so distracted thinking about trying to not think that he’d missed something? Unless Loren was talking about his lip, but... he didn’t really see how that was related either.

[say]”But...”[/say] Peter didn’t know why he wanted to defend this so badly, but it seemed important. For both of them. [say]”I... I want to be here. And... I want to... to be a part of this.”[/say] Peter moved, taking a chance closer to Loren, and carefully, as if he was approaching some kind of wounded animal, reaching a hand out to rest it on his arm. [say]”I don’t wanna... stop.”[/say] More than anything, Peter hopes he’s making some kind of sense, that he’s explaining well enough to Loren that he’s understood. All he’d wanted before this, before a family, was for someone to stand by his side. And he was slowly, slowly getting people like that, and immediately wanted to reach out, to offer his hand out as well.


RE: least and last - Loren - 10-03-2019

Well, it seemed that Loren could do at least one thing right. It thawed the ice that had been creeping over him of late; while he didn’t show it, not really, there was an almost imperceptible softening around the edges. [say]”You’re welcome.”[/say] However, it was a bit sad. All he’d done was offer a bit of bread and jam, not even a real meal. Yet Peter seemed to think this was something special as opposed to the bare minimum. Far be it for the summoner to stop someone from finding joy where they could, though. [say]”I’m glad you like it.”[/say]

By this time, the tea had steeped and cooled enough to be safe to drink. Fishing out the satchel, he tossed it in the compost bucket, then curled his fingers around the mug. To cover the frown that threatened to form—even he could tell the other man wouldn’t react well if Loren frowned—the summoner took a sip. It was still a bit too hot, but at least he didn’t burn himself. [say]”You didn’t do bad though.”[/say] At least, not that Loren could see. [say]”Do you bite through your lip often?”[/say] Which would now also tell him if Peter thought he did bad often, the summoner supposed. And if that was the case, he'd probably have to do something about it.

As the other man tried to explain how he felt, and then started moving, Loren took another sip, then set his mug down. The hand on his arm was surprising, but he didn’t flinch away from it like he once might have, though he eyes flicked to it before his gaze found its way back to Peter’s face. [say]”Well.”[/say] Although the summoner’s voice still lacked most of its inflection, he was very carefully choosing his words. {day}”You’ve already taken the first step, by being here.”[/say] His hand, the one on the opposite side of his body, came up to cover the one Peter had rested on Loren’s arm. [say]”You know, I heard someone say once that it really doesn’t matter how big that first step you take is. All that matters is that it’s in the right direction.”[/say] And this was certain progress, even if it didn’t feel like enough to Peter.


RE: least and last - Peter - 10-04-2019

The rest of the bread disappeared quickly, Peter trying and failing to not lick his fingers clean where a stray bit of jam had gotten on him. He watched Loren nurse his tea, keeping quiet and considering what to say. The question felt like a trap, if only because he wasn’t sure what the correct answer was. [say]”Not... not often.”[/say] The answer came out shaky, uncertain. Peter licked his lips, trying to keep from worrying the bottom one between his teeth. [say]”Not... as much. Anymore.”[/say] He appended, feeling slightly better being more honest.

The last thing Peter had expected was Loren’s hand coming to rest over his own. He didn’t stiffen, but he did drop his eyes to the ground, feeling strange with the summoners eyes on him. Maybe he was overstepping his boundaries, maybe he had gone too far. His fingers faltered, trapped now, but trembling gently. [say]”I don’t... really know uh... what I’m... what I need to do, though...”[/say] The heels of his boots bumped together, all of Peter suddenly restless, anxious. Sure, he’d taken a first step, but into what? All of this was new to him, and he had never dealt well with change. With having to determine his own steps. Someone had always told him what to do next.

[say]”Will... I mean, can you...”[/say] Peters eyes flicked to to Loren’s face, just for a breath, before returning to the floor. [say]”Can you... help? I-I... never uh... wanted to bother Zariah, or... or Edrei.”[/say] They scared me. was the unspoken continuation. [say]”I don’t know... anything about uh... u-us?”[/say] The words weren’t all he wanted to ask, or say, but it was all he had the nerve to do. Maybe, once he was certain he wasn’t actually bothering Loren, he’d be comfortable enough to speak more.


RE: least and last - Loren - 10-04-2019

As Peter stammered and stuttered through his responses, Loren flashed back to a time when he had sounded much the same. When he couldn’t look people in the eyes, couldn’t get through a full sentence, couldn’t stand to be in the same room as someone he’d thought was attractive or pretty. He’d come a long way, but sometimes he longed for those days when he was friendless because he was shy, not because he was reviled.

But that was a long time ago, in another world.

Still, the summoner felt that he knew a little bit about where the other man was coming from. So, though Loren didn’t know where he dredged it up from, as Peter scarfed down his food the summoner smiled as kindly as he could manage, then pulled out a new knife and cut a few more slices of bread; the loaf was almost gone by that point, so he put all of it on the other man’s plate. [say]”There’s plenty more where that came from.”[/say] That was true, and more on the way.

Picking up his tea and curling his fingers around the cup, Loren found himself tapping one of them idly against the rim of the mug. Peter seemed reluctant to talk about how often or why he bit through his lip, so the summoner decided to change tactics. [say]”What changed?”[/say] If he knew that much, maybe he could help the other man break the habit entirely. Or maybe not: Loren wasn’t exactly an expert at getting rid of bad habits, especially his own.

Nor was he an expert on families, as evidenced by the fact that he’d left his for so long. Sighing, he took a sip of tea as he thought about how to best respond to Peter’s confession. [say]”I don’t know that it’s a question of need so much as want.”[/say] The other man seemed uncomfortable with the physical contact despite the fact that he'd initiated it, if the way he looked down and his fingers trembled were any indication, so the summoner just squeezed Peter’s hand then let go. [say]”What do you want to do?”[/say] It was a little hard to figure out what the other man was hoping to hear, so Loren was just doing his best. It usually wasn’t good enough, so he was waiting for the inevitable breakdown in communication.

As Peter continued to study the floor—though his eyes flicked up and then back down—Loren tried to stop thinking and feeling as if he was looking at a past version of himself. It helped when the other man finally managed to express what he’d been struggling with for what sounded like quite a while. [say]”I’d be happy to answer whatever questions you’d like to know. And you’ll never be a bother.”[/say] That seemed like the least the summoner could do to put Peter at ease.

However, explaining everything about the Launceleyns would take quite a while. [say]”Come on. Why don’t we go sit somewhere comfortable?”[/say] Assuming the other man was amenable to that, Loren would start leading the way towards the library. Seemed like an appropriate place for the story he was about to tell; he’d start at the beginning, as all tales should, because it was impossible to understand his family without understanding their origins.

[say]”Long ago, when our family was founded, we were bound by a magical oath to always serve the royal bloodline and never to harm anyone with royal blood. It only bound those of our kin with magic, and it took effect as soon as the power manifested in our children. Which was a problem, because it demanded complete and utter obedience. Anything less than that would result in a swift and sudden death. And that...well that did funny things to our family.”[/say] Funny was a funny way of describing torture and horror, but it was all the summoner could think of in the moment that wouldn't scare Peter too badly. Though that would no doubt come in time.


RE: least and last - Peter - 10-04-2019

The new slices of bread were met with a thin smile, the most Peter could manage before he scarfed them down as well. It was one habit, of many, that had been borne out of need, desperation, and that he likely didn't need anymore, but... he could never turn down food, not when he didn't know where it would come from next. The last slice gave him a little trouble, but also a chance to consider his words again, this question a fair bit easier to answer.

What hadn't changed? He'd come to a whole new world, one that was green, and where it snowed. Where people were... kind, in ways he had never imagined. He'd gotten away from all of his old life. [say]"I'm... here now. Right? There's no... no war, or Fink, or Ale-"[/say] Peter cut the last name off suddenly, clamping his lips into a thin line. It was like his mind just shut down, everything going still, tight, before he drew in a sharp breath through his nose and looked up at Loren guiltily, blinking rapidly like it would clear away whatever he was seeing, like it would clear away the glassy sheen of almost tears. [say]"Lot changed."[/say]

As soon as he was able, Peter pulled his hand back, holding it in his other and squeezing it, as if trying to mimic how the other Launceleyn had held it. Like it would bring some comfort. He was very rapidly losing track of what exactly he was trying to do, to say. And he'd put so much thought into it to start, he'd had points and questions and wonders, and now he was left with the end of a string that led nowhere, hopelessly lost in his own narrative. He didn't know what he wanted to do, not really. He didn't even really know what he didn't want to do. Loren was gentle with his answer, with is assurance, and the small gesture meant the world to Peter. It coaxed his eyes back up to the other mans face, a quiet, desperate hope hiding in them.

Peter was more than happy to move if it meant he'd get some answers, and followed close on Lorens heels, afraid he'd lose him in the vast emptiness of the manor. The library was not a place he came to often, he knew how to read, in theory, but had never found much joy in it, never had the spare time for it. It was more comfortable than the kitchen though, and he settled into an overstuffed chair, not minding the dust on it. He curled up, knees to his chest, and watched the summoner, listening raptly to the beginning of his story explanation. It all sounded grand, more important than something he should be a part of, though he didn't quite understand the idea of the oath. There were simpler ways to enforce obedience. He didn't ask about it though, another question too pressing to not be asked, even though he knew the answer was coming. [say]"Funny... how?"[/say]


RE: least and last - Loren - 10-04-2019

The rest of the loaf disappeared as quickly as the first part of it had. Apparently, Peter was hungry. However, even Loren figured that was enough food for now. Besides, they apparently had a lot of ground to cover, considering how little they knew about one another and how little the other man knew about the Launceleyns. First things first: the summoner wanted to get to the bottom of what was upsetting Peter. Though the other man didn’t seem to want Loren’s touch, that didn’t mean he couldn’t provide comfort with words alone.

In fact, he was sort of counting on it. [say]”You’re here, Peter. There’s no war. You’re safe, from everyone, I promise.”[/say] While the summoner wanted to ask about the names, and the war—it seemed that the world Peter had come from was as conflict riddled as Northaven and Northwind before it—it seemed best for Loren to calm the other man down first. Additional questions would probably just make it worse.

Then they were settling in the library, and the summoner choose a chair opposite Peter, sinking down in it stiffly, not used to such comforts, really. Because of Loren’s weakness, he had been denied most of the luxuries that the Launceleyns possessed. Instead, he’d been beaten and tortured for not being enough. For never being enough. And that was before the recent disastrous turns his life had taken.

So Peter’s question was right on the money. Funny how indeed. [say]”In many ways. For one, because the oath only bound those of us with magic, we tried to breed more magicians. As many as possible. And I do mean breed: the family would only allow powerful mages to marry in, in the hopes that it would pass down to their children. And the non-magical Launceleyns were forced to serve.”[/say] However, that was just the start of it. For the rest, Loren would need to be properly prepared, so he took a sip of his tea to steady his nerves.


RE: least and last - Peter - 10-04-2019

They really were a strange pair. Loren looked just as out of place in the plush chair as Peter felt, and that simple fact, more than almost anything else, set him at ease. The rest of the family always seemed so... poised. Effortless, in a way he'd never be able to touch. That he'd never be able to emulate, no matter how much he tried to claw his way up. Peter shifted uncomfortably at the thought, pulling himself in tighter, taking up even less space than he already did.

The answer to his question, at least the part of it Loren had, was something Peter already knew, and he nodded along. Not too long ago (and yet, so far away in his memory) Zariah had been setting up a marriage for him, with the goal of children he was sure. He was still quietly relieved that he'd avoided that fate, especially to someone he considered... maybe not a friend, but only because he didn't dare presume he held that importance to Rexanna. [say]"There's no... no royalty here though. I-I mean, other than Za-Zariah."[/say] The correction was made in a hurried panic, like somehow the misstep would be all it took to brig her back.

The part about serving though, that was new, and it was met with confusion and distress both. It seemed an extra cruelty, to be born lacking, and then to serve those who were not. Peter wanted to give Loren the chance to steel himself, to take a breath, but he had so many questions rising up. [say]"Why... why keep them? The... not magic ones? Or... why... why did they... we? Um, why did we want the oath?"[/say]