A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night;
Who: deservesabone & barebacking
When: Night, November 26th
Where: Out and about
Summary: Sam's tired of sitting and staying.
Warnings: Violence & badtouch
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( May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright )
When: Night, November 26th
Where: Out and about
Summary: Sam's tired of sitting and staying.
Warnings: Violence & badtouch
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( May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright )
His head lowered slightly as he stopped walking. Even the screaming of the sirens did very little to compel him forward. He still did not know what to do about Liquid's disappearance. Strange how it was that he could be so calm when it felt like something else was breaking inside. One of the few people that he did not need to charm, that wanted to bring about his own happiness without any influence on his part, was gone. It was about as much of a shock as Urick's passing -
Lifting his head up in a sudden motion, he glared at nothing in particular. That was wrong. Pain that he felt from that day was still twisting at his thoughts, still making him feel sick. There could not be one that was equal to it, because that would mean that Urick was not perfect. He blinked as he reassured his thoughts. That's right. I really can't trust in anyone but Urick. I really can't love anyone, but Urick. A beat. Other than the love that I have for you, of course, children. He tapped his heel a few times on the sidewalk like they could hear it from how far they were underneath the ground.
Flipping his hair over his shoulder, he continued on his walk back to his apartment. His thoughts became a little more chaotic in his own head as he went. Can't love anyone, but Urick. Urick and I are the ones that are meant to be with one another. I can't live as long as he will live, but I will stay by his side until I die. I have to wait for his return. I wasn't able to spend enough time with him. I- Yaha held his head as his steps became a little more uneasy. He liked to think the screaming that he heard now was that of the gnomes out of concern, but there was only so much that he could do to lie to himself.
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His paws thudded with surprising quiet against the sidewalk, only his claws clacking against the pavement. His ears lay flat against his skull, the tentacles that draped from his muzzle curled in instinctively from the rush of wind as it ripped through his fur. He felt alive - a part of the Darkness, a link in a chain greater than himself, something thrumming and old and deep and suffering. It was so easy to let his pain mingle with theirs; the Darkness cried out its hunger in chorus, a howl through his skull.
It would be so easy to let go of himself.
- No.
The hound snorted hot breath and bared its fangs to the cold night in defiance. This is just a body. This is just a fuckin' shape. I'm not one of yours And Sam - Sam, not the beast, not the Darkness - ran faster.
Yet when he skid on black asphalt around a sharp corner, the elf suddenly in sight, it was the instincts of the beast Sam fell back on. With this, the hound knew what to do.
Teeth bared and tendrils outstretched, he sprung.
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Whistling softly, he called his dear children for assistance. His thinking cleared enough that he did not think that they would be troubled with his thoughts. "It's most unfortunate, but it seems like you'll have to die tonight, little creature." Yaha doubted that it could understand him one way or the other, but he was feeling like talking to someone.
As he finished his apologies, sharpened pillars shot upward, centering themselves around the red designs that began to appear all across the ground -- tearing up the pavement and street in their wake. Each strike upward led down to where the gnomes were that should those tentacles snap down, they would surely skewer the ones resting there easily.
Regardless of this weakness, he watched with little interest, before taking out his own weapon to help his children fight.
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...Hitting nothing at all was a surprise, to say the least.
Sam landed with jarring force, only able to steady himself because he was so used to being in canine form. However strange the rope-faced dog was, it was still a dog at its core. It certainly snarled like one when Sam turned his head back in Yaha's direction, as if answering him. Don't know what the hell you pulled just now, but it's not gonna be that easy to put me down - !
What was that sound?
His ears pricked up, vibrations under his paws. Sam bolted a bare moment before the first pillar shot up towards the darkening sky, a colossus of rock and asphalt. Shit, shit shit! As if responding to his agitation, the tentacles draping from his face writhed and wound into anxious curls. He'd forgotten about Yaha for the moment - Sam's priorities had quickly shifted to running and serpentine dodging, hardly able to process all the sensory information around him. He could hear other heartbeats, smell things moving under the earth and what the hell were those? Were they causing the weird symbols and the - ?
He yelped in animal pain, rock from one of the bursting pillars striking his haunch with enough force to make him stumble and skid in the gravel.
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Once more the air shifted around his body making him tangible. It would do no good to attack someone if he could not touch them either. The blade pointed downward for a second like he would skewer it and be done with the battle, but he could hear the clamoring of the gnomes beneath the ground. Their screams echoing from the holes in the street. Honestly, he could not be sure what it was that they wanted. Not ever. It was like a fun guessing game most of the time, and as it was, he thought he understood what it was that they wanted. You want to play some more? Fine, play with this one.
Turning the blade to the blunt side, he swung it hard into the creature's side. Just enough to move it a few inches across the ground toward the glowing red symbol that had just started to appear. "If it is their wish, I'll have them tear your body apart before you die." He touched his mouth with his free hand, as the symbol continued to form. The ground already shaking and giving way. "Ah, but I suppose that you don't actually die, do you? How lucky."
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Not the sort of funny you'd want to laugh at, of course.
The screaming disoriented him. God, what an unholy wailing; it set his teeth on edge, his tail tucking as he tested his leg. Not broken, thank god, couldn't deal with that right now, but I'd bet my breakfast there's gonna be a bruise. But if a bruise was all he got out of this with, Sam wasn't going to complain. ....The trouble was, a number of factors were making that seem less and less likely.
Yaha was quicker than he looked, for one. Sam had to grant that to the bastard.
The blunt strike caught him in the ribs, knocking the breath from him, dust billowing as his claws dragged back through the ground. Sam hadn't known Yaha could fight like this; hadn't known the man was a fighter at all; hadn't known he could do magic, or had things living beneath the earth. (God, had he really known anything at all?)
The sound of rumbling earth drown out Yaha's one-sided conversation, and there was no time to pay it attention if he'd wanted to. Sam's claws scrabbled for purchase and leaped as best as his aching side and back leg would allow.
But in that moment, his best wasn't good enough.
The pillar rose with all the firepower of an artillery gun, clipping half of the beast's muscled body. It carried Sam halfway up before he fell down along the rock still bubbling ever-upwards. Through the blanket of aching bone and muscle, thoughts seemed to come too slowly: He was falling. He had to shift. Become a bird -
Sam landed on the asphalt with a bright red flare of pain, and the world went black.
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Holding his hand out, even if they could not see it from where they were, they could at least hear his thoughts. Stop. Just as the ground had started to give way, the symbols faded and disappeared from sight. Yaha hummed to himself as he thought of what would have happened if he didn't stop his gnomes. Would have skewered it right through the middle, leaving a sea of red. A beat. But that isn't meant for you, is it? He drew a little closer as his eyes widened a bit - recognizing the man instantly.
"Sam." He blinked a few times before lightly pressing his heel on the other's naked shoulder, turning him over onto his back. What a pretty view. The weapon was tossed down one of the holes littering the street. One of his children would take care of it as they took care of his NV. His hand came to cover his mouth to laugh softly to himself as he moved to sit comfortably on Sam's belly.
Leaning forward, he rested his chin on the top of his hands as he took in the sight of his unconscious prey. How funny that I was almost yours. Letting out a soft sigh, he set himself backward so that he could lightly stroke the side of the man's face. "You're sleeping quite hard, but I know that you're not yet dead. Shall I kiss you to wake you up? I once heard that tale from someone." Another slight tilt of his head - this time in amusement - before he did lean down to do just as he promised.
Now, let's see if you will awaken. At the end of the kiss, Yaha did lick the other's lips as he thought that he could taste blood, but it may have been his own imagination. Just his own wishful thinking.
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It would be six minutes until he awoke, the gray veil of unconsciousness parting like the lift of a heavy shroud. His body stirred first, muscles twitching as he came back to himself. His hands flexed, fingers scratching at the dirt. Sam was aware of feeling cold and heavy. Next was the pain. Sore - his whole damn body felt sore, stretched and banged and bruised. But he was lucky. The creatures of the Darkness were creatures meant for survival, and the strong, muscled form of the rope-faced dog had been able to take the impact of his fall without breaking any bones. The worst of it was a hairline fracture up his right leg, and a cut on his hip that would need stitches. All better than being skewered by Yaha's gnomes, most would agree.
...Yaha. Oh, right. That was the next awareness. Grimacing, Sam opened his eyes to see a pair of gold ones staring back at him. Gold eyes set in a very familiarly androgynous face, attached to a familiarly androgynous body that had - for reasons beyond him - taken it upon itself to use his naked self as a seat cushion.
Between that moment of recognition and the thoughtless punch Sam swung for Yaha's pretty face, there was hardly time enough for a startled gasp of breath.
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"Ah." It twisted a little as he jerked his leg awkwardly to pull it up out of the ground. Yaha let out a soft sigh as he whistled softly yet again for another pillar to raise and push it out carefully. Scratching the side of his face lightly, he pushed himself up to stand. He dusted himself off a few times before touching the side of his face -- really, already it felt like it was going to bruise. How lovely.
"That's an interesting ability that you have, Sam." He found his smile easily. "And, I suppose that I don't have to ask you if you are well or not, because it seems like you are." The only real shame was that he lost his nice view. Just watching Sam for those six minutes were really lovely -- like they were actually lovers and he was watching him sleep. His smile turned just a little more cheerful as he wondered how many others were able to see such a sight. Edgeworth maybe?
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...Wait. That's right. He'd been unconscious. So why hadn't the elf killed him? He'd had every opening. Even now Yaha was asking how he was - and Sam had just punched him in the face!
Sam licked blood from his lip, hands at his sides like a cowboy preparing to draw his weapon (a stance made comical by the fact there was nothing to draw, much less a pocket or holster to draw from). Everything in him screamed that the shapeshifter should get away while he still could. He fully intended to. ...But the insanity of the situation was too much to let slip by without comment.
"Why would you even care if I was well or not?" Sam couldn't keep the incredulous tone from his voice, or his stare. He didn't try to. I just tried to kill you, you crazy sonnuvabitch!
With a jolt, he remembered the things moving beneath the earth. He looked around him in sudden worry, as if expecting something to pop out of the ground at any moment and attack him.
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He did notice the way that Sam was looking down at the ground nervously. Holding up his hand, he tried to catch the man's attention. "You needn't worry about them. They won't attack unless I call them to do so." That was the nice thing about being in a pact with children; that they listened to well to him as though he were their real parent. Do you see Urick -- I can give you children if you truly wanted them? But he dismissed the thought as soon as it came, seeing it had very little to do with the conversation at hand.
"I'm glad that it seems like you were not badly injured." His hands folded behind his back, holding them at the wrist. It was hard to stare up at Sam's eyes when his gaze always wandered southward. He snickered softly to himself. "But even so, I would have been willing to take you to the hospital. Which one would be more to your choosing? I would not want to send my dear friend to one that he was not affiliated properly with, after all."
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"The hell are 'they'?" he demanded in a barking tone, shoulders hunched and body tense. Had he fur, it would have been standing on edge. Yaha's calm was doing nothing to inspire the same in Sam; most of him was still on fight or flight response, muscles trembling with the chemical release of adrenaline, pain masked beneath urgency. It was only sheer bafflement keeping him there talking with the man.
He scowled when he realized where Yaha's gaze kept dropping. He'd hardly remembered he was naked before then - of the things that required his attention in this moment, a lack of clothing was low on the list. But before he could snap at the blond with some caustic comment about his roaming gaze, Yaha's suggestion struck him like a jab to the gut.
"Friend?" To hell with talk of hospitals and affiliations. Was he being mocked right now, or did the elf honestly believe there had been affection in Sam's attack? "I'm not your goddamn - Jesus Christ, were you even payin' attention just now? Did none of that happen for you?" He flung his arm out towards a pillar, gesturing dramatically.
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His smile widened a bit at the outburst. You don't think so? "I was paying attention, yes. It happened for me, of course." He shrugged his shoulders in a helpless manner. You put a lot of thought into this, didn't you? How did you find that creature? How did you change into it? How long have you been planning this? Everyone is making plans regarding me, and it's so lovely. He laughed a little like he had been part of some small practical joke rather than another attempt at his life.
"It seems like you are fine, either way." He hopped over a few of the holes in the street to once more make it to the sidewalk. "You should head home. It's going to become dangerous if you stay out any longer, Sam." A beat. "The same is for me, too, of course."
Be as Sir Kira would be. Isn't that what he told me to do? Yaha flipped his hair over his shoulder. Either way, he was enjoying talking to the other in this manner. He wondered how unsettling it was -- and his smile grew just a little more. See, Sir Kira? I can choose who it is that I want to live and die. I can choose carefully. So carefully. Aren't you happy for me, my dearest master? His shoulders shook a little before he started laughing at his own private joke.
"Sorry. I just thought of something interesting." He turned toward Sam once more, though did not make any move to walk toward him this time. "This was really fun. Please, try again some time, all right?" Keep me in your thoughts until you become sick.
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Sam had been so naive to think he couldn't feel anymore humiliated. He watched Yaha jump over the holes his "children" had made like he was prancing through a field of flowers, struck dumb by the elf's sheer dismissal of him. The lighthearted mockery. "That was fun, but I'm done playing now. You should probably go home, and we'll do this again some other time, okay?" Like this had really all been a game to him. Just - something to amuse him.
Sam's rage, his honest, murderous intent... what did that amount to? It wasn't enough that he'd failed. No, he had to feel worthless for having even attempted it. "Silly dog," Maryann had once called him. It felt like Yaha was doing the same. Silly dog. Run home now.
I hate you. Fuck you, I hate you.
He didn't trust himself to open his mouth and reply. Sam wasn't Edgeworth; his words would only fumble over themselves in their attempt to express his anger, his indignation and bitter frustration. There was only so much pride he was willing to lose tonight. Might as well salvage what he could.
It only a took a moment's concentration to shift into the owl. Sam screeched his answer through a hooked beak, swooping dangerously close towards the blond on large wings as if to threaten with his talons. But he soared past without pause, flapping until he was lifted higher into the night sky, headed for home.
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