Re: ACTION; (hours later)prayforpreyFebruary 14 2010, 20:55:57 UTC
[ and he watches that bony hand come around, watches the ring (the fucking things he tries to escape but nevercannevercan) close around the last hesitation he has (the fucking things he tries to find but -- ... sometimes can), watches the way it carves a deep mote around the castle of his uncertainty to keep it would-be trespassers. this is not for knights and squires to come in rushing, or even rival nations to reach his precipice. he will guard this jealously, possessively, pull it down in the snake's coils.
because once again, Badou is giving him exactly what he wants, and he wonders if something's going to come back and bite them one day (again)(banking on it). ]
Mm. [ is a little hum that slips out as his gaze half-lids. he hates the way the marks burn into both the carpet and his retinas like a too-bright sun, hopes that if ever for any reason Badou would find a reason to clean, this would be it.
his own tension doesn't lax but it isn't something like the panic the other occasionally (more often than not, around him) gets swept into the undertoe of, but he does busy his own brain with looking around the barren, dirty room. ]
Re: ACTION; (hours later)nicotine_patchFebruary 15 2010, 04:24:51 UTC
[Genkaku's eyes going over the hole-in-the-wall his room makes him take absent stock of the place; he barely used it, really, only as a place to hide things he considered worth hiding (scraps of paper sitting underneath highly combustible cartridges)]
[no visitors, no mementos laid out but piles of ashes (not the ones that belong to him, no, just the ones he's created - yes there is a difference)]
[the unprecedented invasion of privacy, and an altar made in such a barren, useless place - these things don't offend him as they rightly should]
[finishing another deep inhale, Genkaku still isn't looking at him]
[and it's entirely without thinking that his fingers drop and lightly touch the other man's kneecap, a brief tap (not quite a bird on the window, that doesn't fit) to pull his attention back]
[and once he has it, he extends the joint back for him to take]
Re: ACTION; (hours later)prayforpreyFebruary 15 2010, 05:06:54 UTC
[ they're back aligned. it's not as surprising as it should be, not at all thrilling or righteous, but it's ... comforting, somehow. sitting with him. breathing the same air, taking in his scent with every spiced breath he breathes, rubbing at the tense muscles of his neck (he needs to meditate, it's second-to-none, but getting high is a decent substitute for when he can't clear his head well enough).
the fox's den is not where he will find the answers to his own hissed questions. houses are not as sacred as homes, and Badou's home is his skin, his cells and his marrow, his scars and his fists he uses to bruise others. that is where he'll find what he wants -- in sadism, in masochism, in want and need and everything that he seeksdesiresgrapples.
the tap on his knee brings his focus back (the one he wasn't evading because of shame, no, never anything like that -- just seeking, a god of the underworld tilting his head over a water trough), sharp and almost painful in the way he snaps his head, stares at the man before him.
Badou isnt' smiling. it's not that kind of offer, nothing coy to draw him in, nothing violent to push him away. but it's ...
he can't get "it's something" out of his head. that's all it is. it's there, it fucking exists, rippling his vision like the sun on asphalt, the smoke-churn in the room.
he's not happy with the reply. he's not unhappy. super monks don't really grasp for satisfaction anyway. he takes it between middle finger and thumb, looks at it (leaves it to sit and burn for a moment, eyes all world between worlds as it gives away life -- who cares, he has more), and tokes.
because once again, Badou is giving him exactly what he wants, and he wonders if something's going to come back and bite them one day (again)(banking on it). ]
Mm. [ is a little hum that slips out as his gaze half-lids. he hates the way the marks burn into both the carpet and his retinas like a too-bright sun, hopes that if ever for any reason Badou would find a reason to clean, this would be it.
his own tension doesn't lax but it isn't something like the panic the other occasionally (more often than not, around him) gets swept into the undertoe of, but he does busy his own brain with looking around the barren, dirty room. ]
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[no visitors, no mementos laid out but piles of ashes (not the ones that belong to him, no, just the ones he's created - yes there is a difference)]
[the unprecedented invasion of privacy, and an altar made in such a barren, useless place - these things don't offend him as they rightly should]
[finishing another deep inhale, Genkaku still isn't looking at him]
[and it's entirely without thinking that his fingers drop and lightly touch the other man's kneecap, a brief tap (not quite a bird on the window, that doesn't fit) to pull his attention back]
[and once he has it, he extends the joint back for him to take]
Let's get fucked up.
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the fox's den is not where he will find the answers to his own hissed questions. houses are not as sacred as homes, and Badou's home is his skin, his cells and his marrow, his scars and his fists he uses to bruise others. that is where he'll find what he wants -- in sadism, in masochism, in want and need and everything that he seeksdesiresgrapples.
the tap on his knee brings his focus back (the one he wasn't evading because of shame, no, never anything like that -- just seeking, a god of the underworld tilting his head over a water trough), sharp and almost painful in the way he snaps his head, stares at the man before him.
Badou isnt' smiling. it's not that kind of offer, nothing coy to draw him in, nothing violent to push him away. but it's ...
he can't get "it's something" out of his head. that's all it is. it's there, it fucking exists, rippling his vision like the sun on asphalt, the smoke-churn in the room.
he's not happy with the reply. he's not unhappy. super monks don't really grasp for satisfaction anyway. he takes it between middle finger and thumb, looks at it (leaves it to sit and burn for a moment, eyes all world between worlds as it gives away life -- who cares, he has more), and tokes.
it's the only confirmation Badou will get. ]
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