Apéritif

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

"That is also none of my business," Finn says matter-of-factly, though he doesn't say it with cruelty. Having carved out a bit of his heart for the Lullaby, he closes the saloon doors of his ribcage and buttons his blood-soaked shirt back up over it, like nothing has ever happened. "I am not responsible for your lack of self control, just as you are not responsible for the horrors that live in my head." He doubts Remi will like that, though.

Unexpected, perhaps for the both of them, Finn lets out a laugh. "If I disagree with you, I am proving your point," he realises with a dimpled smile, cutting up more of the liver and reaching out for a sip of his wine. "October and Everest are people, and their hearts are similarly divided," he points out, tilting his head and lowering his cutlery for a moment, as if realising something.

"That is the problem though, isn't it? Enough for you is all of it. You would want it all." Reaching out, he plucks the glistening sliver of himself back from between the alchemist's fingers, pressing it between his lips. "That's too bad," he murmurs.

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

'I think you are responsible if you start provoking me, though.' Remi whispers forcefully. For all the eyes around them, he isn't sure either man can see the line between restraint and provocation.

'So you would just throw them scraps, then?' He wonders of October and Everest, imaging Finn similarly carving himself up. Telling those he loved that he was giving as much of him as he could, all the while keeping his own private panty stocked full of himself.

Golden fur and brutal claws overtake Remi's fingers as Finn snatches away the shard of his heart, and the alchemist is on his feet with feathers snarling into his curls before he realizes it. 'Is this who you really are, then? Or are we still lying?" On the verge of something he can't articulate, hard and tense and pulled by so many invisible strings, Remi just stares down at the Spyglass, waiting.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

"I did say you would begin being hostile to me," Finn says mildly, though he does seem to realise something about his own behaviour as well, particularly with the other man's remarks about provocation. "I am sorry," he says, putting down his knife and fork and frowning, even as Remi erupts to his feet with fur and feathers and sharp talons. "You're right, of course. I am guilty of throwing kindness in your face far too often."

He remains seated, his hands folded in his bloody lap, pensive and quiet for a few moments. "Not scraps, I don't think. I... I suppose I only recently discovered that I belonged to myself. So even small parts of me feel important, when I give them away." Gazing up at Remi, he tries a smile and nods back to the seat.

"I shouldn't have snatched away your meal," he says by means of another apology. "Would you like something else instead? Or we could move onto dessert."

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

Every word from Finn's mouth is obscured by the rattling of bones as if somewhere a group of children were using them as dice. Closing his eyes as if that might dull the crimson sway emanating from the Spyglass, Remi feels the world begin to sway as the gaggle of beasts in his bones begin to get the better of him.

"You are right that scraps are not enough for me. Are you so sure they are enough for your family?" Remi muses, his voice tense but soft. "If you belong to yourself then you cannot belong to them. What a strange sort of love that is, to always be at a distance." Opening his eyes slowly, shocked that the world still had colour and texture, Remi grips the table with one clawed hand as the footing beneath him threatens to give way.

"Dessert? You know I cannot accept anything from you, Finn." Said as if this was a test, as if Finn was no more than some veiled fae trying to trick Remi into offering it in, if only for a moment, Remi has to swallow back the bile that rises in his throat. This, of course, being the reaction he should have had to thinking of the wine as Finn's blood, and not the Spyglass's kindness.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

"We do not need to be cruel to each other again," Finn says quietly, tilting his head as if able to see the desperate swipes at his ego from the other man, though his metaphorical claws will glide through the Spyglass like smoke. "We were trying to be different."

Remi doesn't sit, and so instead Finn rises to his feet. Smoothing down his shirt, it does little for the blood that drenches his front, but at least there isn't any strange jutting of bones within his chest. It's as though the lacerations had never happened.

It brings a sad smile to his face, to hear that Remi can't accept anything from him, and he shakes his head. "Alright," he concedes. "Though you did accept my dream, by coming in here." That can't really be denied. "I will leave now. You mustn't follow me, though, otherwise we will have to do this again."

Who knows, though. Maybe this time they will get it right.

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

'Honesty is often cruel." Remi counters, trying his best to force his muscles to unclench and finding himself unable. "I think that is why we so often lie to one another."

As Finn begins the end, Remi finds himself furious that the other man would leave while also being relieved nearly to the point of tears. "I will find the dreamcatcher." He replies, neither accepting the blame placed neatly before him nor promising anything more than he already has. Craving violence and pleasure, Finn has pushed him to the edge of the cliffs they've made together, with his wings bound.

He should have taken Finn's heart when he had the chance.

He takes a step forward...

///

..Remi is on his way to a feast.

In a world of cast shadows and dusky jewel tones, Remi walks on a path of white teeth and pebbles. Soothing the snapdragons that snarl and weep blood with his fingers as he passes, Remi hums a tune under his breath that makes drowsy the eyes that watch him from the knots on the trees and the and the shadows on the underside of the leaves.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

Finn is at a feast.

This time, though, there are many seats at the table, and many seated, too. At the head in his rich velvet seat is the Spyglass as he was when Remi last saw him, soaked in blood, finishing the remnants of what looks like it was once a liver. To his right sits a young man with a pretty face and a head of rich curls, wrapped in blue silk. To his left, younger still, is a gaunt and stormy-eyed teen, stripped to the waist with a back lashed and raw and weeping crimson.

Further down the table we have a youth with soaking wet hair, a hungry expression and dirty clothes, though he does not reach for any of the food at the table. And at the opposite end a child sits, haunted and sad, his legs swinging where they don't quite reach the floor.

"We're still missing one," the present Finn murmurs to the remaining empty seat, glancing around for the man he knows will fill it.

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

The trees part to reveal the feast; Remi quickens his step and offers those already present an apologetic smile. Boyish and perhaps a touch careless in his movements, Remi moves with an elegance he'd previously lost since becoming so thickly muscled. Now, lean and wiry, he moves more like water than an avalanche.

"Sorry I am late." He calls out, raising a hand to the man at the head of the table. Sliding into his seat with all the haste of one who knows they have been holding things up, Remi produces a box wrapped in stunning purple paper, and holds it out toward Finn. "I got you something." He whispers a touch conspiratorily, his face sunny with anticipation and joy.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

Two pairs of dimples appear as Finn and his silk-clad self greet Remi with a smile, though the three younger iterations of the Spyglass are not yet skilled in the art of this facade (if indeed, that is what this is), and they remain stony faced as the alchemist takes his seat. Indeed, the wet haired youth looks as though he might gnaw at Remi's ankles given the chance, or chew on his ear, such is his emaciated state.

"I am glad you could make it," Finn says warmly, tilting his head as the other man offers out his present. "How kind of you. I'm afraid I haven't anything in return for you, though." The glimmer in blue eyes playfully suggests that he's aware that this might put him in Remi's debt, and he carefully opens the gift without tearing the paper, peeling it apart with great delicacy.

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

'Oh, that is not true! You arranged all of this!' Remi points out with a laugh and wave of his hand. Biting one corner of his lip to keep caged his anticipation, the alchemist peers at Finn's fingers as he delicately removes the purple paper to reveal the box inside. Upon opening it the Spyglass will be greeted with the Lullaby's heart. It's the reason he's late truth be told—it's hard to wrap presents with ruined fingers.

More than half of the organ is covered in deep black dragon scales that glisten with starlight beneath as the heart beats. The top right is covered with a shower of stars that bleed into what appears to be moss. Within one of the lower ventricles, shards of blue brace against the veins, holding them open and making them more efficient.

Smiling and looking up at Finn, his sea-foam stare trying to find comprehension and understanding in the other man's face, Remi holds his breath.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

All iterations of Finn look to the box as he opens it, the Spyglass's lips parting in a soft inhale, as if he can't quite believe what he is seeing. "This is beautiful," he says softly, and he means it, lifting the box with the heart contained within as if to examine it more closely. "...None of it belongs to me, though," he points out, raising his eyebrows across at Remi. "So I am not sure that I can accept it, wonderful as it might be."

Thunder rolls overhead, threatening to rain on their parade, and Finn reaches out to set the box down onto the table once more. He doesn't know the purpose behind the gift, and nor does he believe that trying to return it to Remi will go very well. The teen with the lashes on his back does eye it experimentally, though, like it might be a trinket worth stealing.

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

Remi's smile grows, narrows, and then radiates in humble agreement. "I think so too." Ronin, Aoife, Mateo, and Isla...they were all the best parts of him. Watching his beating heart in Finn's hands nearly as tears misting his eyes, but Remi is able to blink them back. "I suppose that is the gift." He explains with a touch of bashfulness. "To know that you are not there."

Glancing up at the sky, his smile somewhat doused at the prospect of rain, Remi swallows and tries not to fidget. "Sorry, no need to wait for me. Please, eat—" Gesturing at the table with a boyish grin, in the center suddenly appears a number of cuts of meat: hawk which has been cooked in clay, ready to be shattered to reveal the soft meat within; a spit-roasted lion with a pomegranate in its mouth, dripping with honey and lemons; an octopus spread open, filled with cucumber and hazelnuts.

"Leave room for desert." Remi says, aiming a wink at the youth seated at the end of the table.

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

the spyglass

I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun

Finn's gaze softens, then, and he smiles to himself, giving Remi a soft nod. "I suppose that is the gift," he echoes his agreement with a sigh that seems to ripple all around the table. "Thank you," he says once more, and it sounds like more than a perfunctory display of manners. Still, his eyes widen a touch to see the feast transformed before their eyes, and whilst Finn doesn't partake (instead enjoying a glass of amber whiskey), his counterparts are not so shy.

"That one is Eight," he introduces the sad child at the other end of the table, the one picking at the hawk without really trying any of it. "And that one's Twelve." This is the rabid youth, tearing into the lion without care for cutlery nor manners. "Then we have Fifteen and Twenty-One." Finn nods at the teenager still eyeing the bejewelled heart, and the silk-clad man who manages to make eating an octopus exactly as sensual as you'd expect.

"You don't really know me, unless you know them," Finn explains.

now all my stories have been told; except for one

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

& doesn't the white page seem unfinished
without the dark stain of alphabets?

Remi mumbles something that sounds like you're welcome and nods, smiling to himself. Looking from Eight to Twelve, the alchemist doesn't bother to try and hide his crooked smile as the younger iterations of Finn dig into him. From there he looks to Fifteen and Twenty-One (not able to look at the latter for more than a second without blushing and turning back to Finn).

"And you said you had no gift for me." Remi replies, clucking his tongue and offering the Spyglass a wry smile. "It is nice to meet you all." He calls down the table, looking at each thoughtfully and respectfully, before turning back to Finn. "Who does each of them want to be?" The version to their right? Someone else completely?

the lullaby

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)