Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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01-14-2020, 02:55 AM (This post was last modified: 01-14-2020, 02:56 AM by Oliver.)
OLIVER
If that's not what he said, then what the fuck did he mean? Throwing in the random 'i have housed you' clearly meant something. What, was Loren calling him lazy? Again. If he didn't want him around, then he probably should be honest. Oliver wanted honesty, not Loren to jump around the subject.
This way of thinking was a clear sign of Oliver trying to ignore half of what Loren was saying...keyword is trying. The more Loren spoke, the tighter his ears went against his head, as well, his tail started to lower, tucking down. Loren allowed him to speak, so Oliver would give him the same respect and time. There were many times Oliver wanted to object, but allowing Loren the opportunity to speak actually helped him. It allowed Oliver to calm down, it gave him time to relax and blow off the rest of his steam before he spoke again.
Once it felt like Loren had finally stopped talking, a silence settled between the two. The only sound was the occasional tap of the fox's paw against the canvas, smearing paint along the once white board. I....you're right. I know that I should be practicing more...and I want to... He simply didn't have the energy to anymore. Oliver wanted to immediately be good, skipping over any of the middle parts. What Oliver wanted was impossible and he couldn't quite grasp that.
Please just...hear me out. There was a soft sigh and he padded over to the badger, clearly trying to restrain back any anger. He was still frustrated, of course, but he also wanted to address something. I didn't know any of that had happened to you....but jesus Fuck Loren. And then the anger started to slip through. The frustration he felt towards Loren. I said you looked miserable because I don't like it. You said yourself a lot has happened and what, what have you done to try and help that? I don't want to see you just fucking laying around on a bed in the kitchen. You need to get help and if help means just forcing you to paint? Fine by me. Walking back over to the paints he stuck one paw into the blue and one paw into a nice green before walking back over to his canvas.
Sometimes people are stubborn. Sometimes the ones who need help the most are the least likely to ask for it. Loren needed to learn that he couldn't do everything alone. Oliver didn't want to see Loren live such a miserable, angry life.
01-14-2020, 07:50 PM (This post was last modified: 01-14-2020, 07:50 PM by Loren.)
LOREN
As Oliver calmed down, Loren did as well, his mind fading into a sort of dull apathy. Just take it one day at a time. Ask yourself what the next step should be and then try to find it in yourself to do it. And if you don’t, then try again the next day. He settled onto the ground, uncaring of the paint staining his fur. There’s no shame in taking your time.
At the fox’s request, the summoner didn’t respond to the other man’s words. I’ve been through worse. I’ll get through this too. As for what I've been doing, I've been going to the infirmary every day to help the wounded recover. I went into the Labyrinth to get some special herbs. I went to Halo to help Jigano continue exploring it for the Loreseekers. Rising up, he dipped his hand into the black paint. Padding over carefully, he pressed it precisely against the very center of the canvas. How is art supposed to make me feel better if I don’t care about the art I’m creating?
No shame in taking his time? But didn't Loren also get mad at him for not doing enough? Clearly, he wasn't working fast enough. He'd just have to better use his time, maybe train three times a week, that way he would be even better than before.
With a snort, Oliver's ears pushed tightly against his head. While Loren had given him the ability to speak, the man also completely misunderstood everything he was trying to say. It was annoying and Oliver didn't appreciate the man completely disregarding what he had to say. That's not what I mean. A huff left his nostrils and he scratched ever so lightly at his canvas, just enough to spread some of the paint in a unique fashion. I get that you've done a lot to help others, but what I meant was helping yourself. He wasn't quite done talking, but if Loren wanted to interrupt him then it was fair game. Lets just look at it this way. You cant survive if you don't eat or drink, right? It's the same way with keeping yourself good. You need to help yourself. Keep yourself happy so you aren't a miserable ball of meat. Loren sure looked like a miserable ball of meat sometimes.
Turning to look over at what Loren had made so far, the man did seem to be trying to do something. Well, art can help you escape. You don't have to be good at art to use it to let out your anger and emotions. Splash paint everywhere, slash up that tapestry. Do whatever your heart tells you to do. He didn't have to care about it to be able to let out his emotions.
Loren stared at Oliver for a long moment. Finally, the summoner let out an unhappy rumble. However, at the same time, he lowered his mental walls.
And the toxic mess of emotions that he’d been keeping hidden this whole time exploded through their bond.
Self-loathing warred with anger, while guilt tangled with a sorrow so deep it filled him up completely before spill over the link. Above it and under it, encompassing it all really was a bone-deep exhaustion. All the while, he looked at the fox unflinchingly. This isn't the sort of pain that can be helped. By art or by anything or anyone else. With that, the Launceleyn turned and padded away, uncaring of the messy paw prints he left on the carpets and floors.
The feelings that slammed into Oliver were overwhelming. His eyes widened as he felt his heart crumbling, tearing into tiny pieces. No words were necessary to understand what Loren felt, why he seemed so destroyed. It hurt him to his core that he hadn't been there to help Loren, that he had been so rude to him in the past. Yelling at him for no reason and simply being a massive asshole.
His ears perked up and he called out to his friend, sending waves of acceptance and comfort. Loren! Wait! Please! He practically begged. Trotting after him, Oliver hesitated before exiting the tarp, leaving much smaller prints along the wood as he followed after Loren. Hopefully, if Loren would listen, he would be able to do what his heart told him to do. Please? Give me just another minute? Oliver could only hope that Loren would listen to him, that he would be given even the smallest of opportunities to help his friend.
As Oliver called after Loren, he felt his walls slamming back into place, shutting down the flow of emotions from himself to the fox to the barest trickle. However, the summoner hesitated, footsteps slowing. Then they finally stopped. He could feel acceptance and comfort radiating off the fox. Unfortunately, it crashed into the barrier that was, well, the Launceleyn's tattered soul, and did nothing to alleviate his agony.
Still, he turned, and stared at the other man. For a long moment, he had to force himself not to keep fleeing, warring with his instincts. Only the knowledge that if he put this conversation off now that he'd have to have it later caused him to settle onto the ground.
01-15-2020, 09:23 PM (This post was last modified: 01-15-2020, 09:24 PM by Oliver.)
OLIVER
Any and all of the emotions being projected onto him ceased and Oliver was once again met with nothing but complete and utter silence. It wasn't comforting and Oliver knew that Loren had done it on purpose. He wasn't a fan of it, but he wasn't going to push the man into doing something he felt uncomfortable with. Hell, directly mentioning it may even cause Loren to ignore him for a time. This was an improvement and Oliver would work with everything he was given.
Approaching the man, Oliver's ears were ever so slightly back, showing his worry for the other man. Are you comfortable with me touching you? If not...I'd really appreciate it if you stayed with me while I painted? You don't have to paint....I'd just really love the company. It was obvious to anyone who knew Oliver by his voice alone that there was more he wanted to say, the pauses and gaps between his words showing restraint. Him choosing what individual words he said with meticulous care. Oliver had so much to say, but he didn't want to lose Loren. He didn't want to have his friend leave him, especially when there was so much that he wanted to share.
Letting out the mental equivalent of a sigh, Loren twisted so he could rest his head on its side. You can touch me. There was a sort of dull resignation to the acceptance.
At first, that was the summoner's only response to Oliver's words. Finally, the Launceleyn pushed himself to his feet again. Then he padded back towards the fox's set up. Loren was silent except for the clicking of his claws on the ground.
When he reached the tarp with the paints and the canvases, he settled down onto it. Then he just lay there, not moving from the spot, waiting for whatever it was the other man was going to do.
The response did earn a small tail wag from Oliver, one that he didn't even notice. It wasn't that he was neccesarrily overjoyed, more like he was glad to see that Loren hadn't completely shut him out yet. Before he could really do what he wanted, Loren was already walking back over to the tarp. Following after him, Oliver looked down at all of the little pawprints left behind by the two. Looks like he'd have to help out a bit more than initially planned, seeing as it was his fault that the paint got that far off of the tarp.
Once Loren had settled back down, Oliver hesitated for a moment before laying down himself next to his friend. Then, he would proceed to nuzzle Loren's neck with his head, almost as though he were trying to give his friend a hug. It would've been easier if the two were standing, but he was making do with what he got. Resting his head ontop of Loren, Oliver left out a soft sigh. I care....a lot about you...you're one of the first people I ever met since coming here... The first ever one was gone....so that really only left Sunjata and Loren. As nice as Sunjata was, Loren had done so much for him, left such an incredible impact on him. He felt like he owed the man his life.
I know you may think there isn't anything that can be done to save you....but I want you to at least know that I'm here for you....I care about you so much Loren...and I want you to be happy. I want you to be so, so so happy. His ears lay flat against his head and he tried his best to only send happy emotions towards Loren, despite the twinges of sadness he currently felt. The worry he had that something bad would happen to Loren. That Loren would fall into a pit of despair and would never be able to escape.
You're happiness matters so much to me...your wellbeing matters so much to me... His voice trailed off, leaving hints of unspoken thoughts and feelings.
As Oliver came up to nuzzle Loren, he didn’t really react or move. As the fox began to speak, however, the summoner tensed, and given their proximity it was pretty evident. Still, he stayed exactly where he was until he was sure the other man was done. Only then did the Launceleyn extract himself from Oliver.
Loren began to pace nervously and awkwardly around the edges of the tarp, leaving more paint in his wake. Uhhhhhh. His embarrassment was palpable. I’m...flattered. But uh, I’m ah seeing someone. Despite his best efforts to be gentle, he was pretty sure he mostly came across as mortified.
01-15-2020, 10:42 PM (This post was last modified: 01-15-2020, 10:42 PM by Oliver.)
OLIVER
Well. Fuck.
The stiffness caused his eyes to widen and he slowly removed his head from Loren, only to have the man basically throw himself away. At first, he thought Loren simply didn't want to be hugged or the animal equivalent of hugging....until he heard the actual reason for Loren's adverse reaction.
A small laughing sound left Oliver and his ears perked up. Sending waves of soothing? Relaxation? Anything to show Loren that it's okay. Well...that certainly explains a whole lot. Loren...I'm not interested in you in that way. Okay...maybe he did care about Loren a whole lot, but not in a romantic way! Loren...when I said I care about you, I mean it. And when I said that....I mean that you're a super close friend to me...you're someone who I would care about whenever, but not romantically. Maybe....maybe like a brother? Yeah. You're like a brother to me. Hopefully Oliver hadn't royally fucked up with Loren just because Loren thought he had a hardon for him or something.
Trust me, I'm really in no position for dating right now...really. Besides, like I said, I view you more like family.
Loren paused as Oliver began to clear up the misunderstanding. Although the summoner was still quite chagrined, he felt himself calming at least a little bit. Oh. Okay. I...I ah see. There was still a great deal of embarrassment in his thoughts.
Settling to the ground, the Launceleyn tried to calm both the shame and the other dark emotions that were trying to rush into place now that the embarrassment was fading. Finally he sent the fox the mental equivalent of a sigh. I appreciate the sentiment but...you really don't...you don't want to be my brother. Let alone get close to me. Trust me. Loren's weariness was impossible to miss.
Oliver was starting to feel a bit embarrassed himself, seeing as he had pretty much completely fucked up with Loren. Really a great job right there, giving one of his few friends the idea that he wanted to fuck him or some shit not that he actually could right now. He felt awkward enough to not really have anything else to say. What else was there to say? Yeah don't worry, I don't wanna bed you.
Then he was actually given a reason to speak up. For some stupid reason, Loren started to talk about how Oliver shouldn't call him a brother. What? First he thought that Oliver wanted to fuck him, then he started to protest that? If Loren didn't want to be called a brother, that's fine, but the way he said it was just...off. Standing up. Oliver looked at Loren with a confused look. Loren...aren't I already close to you? Seeing as I've told you about almost all my memories. Were they not close or something? Last Oliver checked, only close friends do that kind of shit.
And why do you assume that I wouldn't want to be your brother? You've done so much to help me. You are nice. You are kind. You are just...amazing...and I care a lot about you.
Loren let out an unhappy rumble, and pawed anxiously at the ground. You have, and I appreciate that you trusted me with that. But what do you know about me? About my past? Rising back to his feet, he began pacing again, as if trying to outrun the inevitable conversation.
I'm...I'm not. It was a weak thought, and he immediately followed up on it. If you knew my family, if you'd met my actual brothers, knew what they did to me, to each other, what I tried and failed to do to them, you wouldn't be nearly so quick as to call me kin. Remembered fear coursed through him and he let out a snarl.
