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[gentle_cruelty]

Who: Irial gentle_cruelty  and Niall darkcourtking 
Where: The old manse
Whattup: AU Somarium. Irial is a human painter with a dark aesthetic. Niall is unaffected
Style: Whichever
Status: Closed like Irial's ♥

Irial opened his eyes, staring up at the uneven ceiling overhead. The flaws in the paint bothered him. Then he started forming shapes in his mind, slashes of color to fill

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[darkcourtking]

It was incredibly odd, Niall decided, as he clenched and unclenched his fingers once more, leaning against the kitchen counter. Outwardly, Niall knew there had been no change to his physical appearance. However, from the moment he'd woken up that morning, he'd felt... weak. As if someone had come overnight and zapped the powers of the Dark King straight from his body. He was almost tempted to say that he felt "mortal", but as he'd no idea what being a mortal felt like, that was an impossible assumption on his part

[gentle_cruelty]

Irial shuffled into the kitchen, flicking on the light.

Wincing at the brightness, he crossed the room to the coffee machine, almost there when he realized he had company. Yes, he's exceptionally astute before his coffee.

"Morning," Irial greeted, not exactly coherent or graceful just yet.

Now it was time to remedy that. Filling the water reservoir, Irial rummaged through the cabinets, taking down a canister of dark roast. Far too many scoops later, he shut the lid, plugged the machine in and let it percolate.

While he waited for the coffee to brew, Irial drew imaginary shapes into the countertop, already working on a mental canvas for his next piece. At the same time, he glanced over at his roommie, watching smoke. Coffee and cigarettes - an ideal breakfast for a starving artist.

"Can I bum one off you?"

[darkcourtking]

Niall watched Irial with sharp eyes. The moment the faery had walked into the kitchen, Niall could tell that there was something off about Irial, too... something that reminded him of Seth and Leslie.

What the hell is going on?

He nodded in reply to Irial's greeting, contenting himself with watching the man make coffee. He seemed to be in his own world, which wasn't like Irial at all.

And then when he had asked for a cigarette...

Wordlessly, Niall offered a cigarette to Irial, raising an eyebrow as he did so. It wasn't like Irial to ask for anything, a fact that typically drove the King crazy. Irial was the sort to simply take what he wanted and offer his thanks later. Again, Niall wondered what was going on.

"Are you quite all right, Irial?"

[gentle_cruelty]

Irial accepted the cigarette, placing it between his lips, while still leaning in, waiting for a light.

"Yeah?" Irial replied, brows raised.

"Why, do I look like a mess?" he asked, swiping at his face, expecting dried paint or something there. But he didn't feel anything apparent, aside from the stubble.