Catsovi e Viciro (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scornful) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-08-29 09:58 am
scornful) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-08-29 09:58 am
[closed]
Date & Time: backdated to 08/20 morning
Location: outlands
Characters: Catsovi e Viciro (scornful), Martin Darkov (theguideless)
Summary: ANOTHER CONTRACT IS MADE
Warnings: n/a
Catsovi stood on the cracked and overgrown remains of a highway and idly swung the medallion about in the air, contemplating it through the thick haze. He was on his way en route back to Exsilium, but had to drop his khet off in the Outlands again. Good riddance; the past two weeks had been -- no pun intended -- absolutely miserable, with it hovering so close at all times. His khet had its uses, but he hated that thing.
It was gone, now, somewhere off in the distance, out of sight. Now there was just the ruin and the medallion and Cat.
The Nightcap had kept speaking about fucking doors and for the longest time Catsovi hadn't a single clue what that meant. The Nightcap had always spoken in hysterical and broken babble, though, so Cat usually couldn't understand what it was trying to say, anyway. He'd eventually started ignoring its ramblings. But this had stuck with him, because it'd been such a strong fixation of the Nightcap's.
It'd had a pretty strong fixation on Catsovi not opening this door, too.
Well. The Nightcap was gone, now, and Cat hadn't anything to lose. Time to find out what lay beyond this threshold.
He swung the medallion up between thumb and forefinger and jammed it between his teeth, snapping down hard, as if he meant to break it in half.
Location: outlands
Characters: Catsovi e Viciro (
scornful), Martin Darkov (theguideless) Summary: ANOTHER CONTRACT IS MADE
Warnings: n/a
Catsovi stood on the cracked and overgrown remains of a highway and idly swung the medallion about in the air, contemplating it through the thick haze. He was on his way en route back to Exsilium, but had to drop his khet off in the Outlands again. Good riddance; the past two weeks had been -- no pun intended -- absolutely miserable, with it hovering so close at all times. His khet had its uses, but he hated that thing.
It was gone, now, somewhere off in the distance, out of sight. Now there was just the ruin and the medallion and Cat.
The Nightcap had kept speaking about fucking doors and for the longest time Catsovi hadn't a single clue what that meant. The Nightcap had always spoken in hysterical and broken babble, though, so Cat usually couldn't understand what it was trying to say, anyway. He'd eventually started ignoring its ramblings. But this had stuck with him, because it'd been such a strong fixation of the Nightcap's.
It'd had a pretty strong fixation on Catsovi not opening this door, too.
Well. The Nightcap was gone, now, and Cat hadn't anything to lose. Time to find out what lay beyond this threshold.
He swung the medallion up between thumb and forefinger and jammed it between his teeth, snapping down hard, as if he meant to break it in half.
no subject
Martin Darkov's bones were melted into that metal, as was custom. Baby teeth: nothing when lost is sorely missed, but utterly necessary. No matter where the expanse beyond Time took him, he would hear the chime his bones would make when struck by another's. That was the way of Darkovs and their sundered souls.
The medallion was the bell, bones chiming and calling out to itself to the little metal door between Catsovi's teeth. A stranger knocking.
What was, remained, and became much more than Martin Darkov drew to the door, pressing against the threshold that separated him from Exsilium. He came to be through air and light, a figment that took form in three: the boy, the lion, and man.
All three moved near, bent or reaching for his door, stopping short as its awareness of Castovi grew.
Stranger, but not utterly. And a threat.
no subject
Elsewhere in the outlands, his khet hummed, nervously. Cat could feel it from here, though he doubted anyone else could. He let go of a frustrated sigh.
"Shut up," he said.
He wrapped the chain of the medallion back around his wrist. As an afterthought, he held that wrist up, bringing the medallion eye-level.
"I'll bite again if I have to," he said, half-threateningly. How long was it going to take for an answer? He was a busy man. He had things to do.
no subject
Air and light: There was a great heat filling in the space before that dark person, and light pierced through like water soaking cloth.
Fingers, hands, a muzzle, burning eyes. The three things that comprised Martin manifested with no sound but that of a deep breath, breathing him into Exsilium again. His faces were already set with the knowledge perceived, and at the boy's side, the lion's teeth bared.
Words came, undeniable yet inaudible: You call me for no good purpose.
no subject
But, as with most questions, Catsovi hadn't the time or energy to ponder them. For him, there was only the present and the now. So he put his hands into his pockets and he regarded Martin levelly. No evidence of surprise on his face, nor any other emotion.
"I call you out of curiosity," Catsovi said, "and I would like it satisfied. What are you?"
no subject
Movements were simultaneous, but independent. While the man's hand lifted, the boy's arms wrapped around the neck of the lion to keep it still. The man pointed at Catsovi, wearing the smile of a facade: He was not pleased to be called by him.
Kinder souls than you have called me to their sides, and kinder still have bound me to aid.
The lion's snarl was a rattling hum in the air – a fierce atmosphere.
Your satisfaction comes from crueler places.
no subject
For some reason, the conversation they were holding now reminded Cat of the first conversation he'd held with the Nightcap. He could only recall the details hazily, now -- eventually all interaction with the Nightcap had started to converge together, in Cat's mind -- but he remembered frustration. That was what these two conversations had in common.
"I take satisfaction in nothing at all," Cat said, almost sing-song in tone. Flippant and dismissive of the observation. "Have you only come to judge me, or is there something useful that I can extract from your existence?"
no subject
Not utterly. The boy buried his face in the lion's mane as he held tight while the awareness ebbed and flowed. Regina. The monster. It was back in time, but another world's. The things that had happened – will happen, is happening where Olvoski was lingered heavily in his mind.
Even with the door in Catsovi's grasp, Martin could leave. The chance was still there. But it would mean leaving this time to Catsovi alone. And he already knew he wasn't going to do so.
Much.
Name your conditions.
no subject
The corner of his lip twitched.
"Protection, and your complete non-involvement in my own plans," he added, in a murmur. "You are not to get in my way."
no subject
The thunderous quality of his words ebbed; if he were to be heard, the other had to desire to hear.
Should your affairs draw you near to danger, how is one to protect you? These are not good terms.
Instead, this: Agree to my mortal form in this Time, and I will agree to speak no word of your will. Yet if solitude is what you seek, grant me free to roam as I please, coming only when danger summons me – or when your fears wish me near.
Will this please you?
no subject
His mind was wandering elsewhere, already.
"Yes," he said, almost immediately. He searched for a threat to make, but found none. "But before this is done, I would know your name."
no subject
I was the boy called Martin, once Darkov. Born into the same lineage of souls as the Nightcap's host. Her brother. A hand settled on his chest, where his heart would be.
And so I remain, though other names belong to me. Martin is for this place. He has had life here before.
no subject
But once the connection was made, Catsovi sneered.
"Ahh," he said. "You. The child."
no subject
Catsovi's link to Bariyan was more apparent then, fed by the dark swirl that came from a memory related to Martin himself. There were lengths he simply couldn't go to see the real connections, and much of it was because of the state of Catsovi's own mind and the power it was lush with. Places light had no claim to.
By your consent, shall I be such again?
It was almost hopeful, asking; he couldn't perceive the real answer Catsovi would give.