so show me family; all the blood that i will bleed

[deadelfwalking]

Date & Time: 11/1; evening
Location: Bariyan's apt
Characters: Koltira Deathweaver (deadelfwalking); Bariyan e Kodhi (stonefaith); Martin Darkov (theguideless)
Summary: Koltira visits. Ensures that Martin gets a decent meal. Possibly dons an apron.
Warnings: Dead men being domestic



[Despite everything, Koltira can't help but feel some apprehension as he approaches Bariyan's apartment. It's difficult to tell where he stands with the other man on any given day, though his feelings have hardly changed since his first week in the city. Bariyan is his friend, and Koltira's choices with respect to him have always been in service of that. He also owes an impossible debt to Martin, now, for showing him who he truly was, and could be. They are both important to him. But what is he, other than an interloper?

Still, he wants to see them. So, holding a bottle of vodka in one hand, he stops in front of Bariyan's door and knocks. As he waits, he traces the new, slowly fading scars on his face, left by the tears he had shed on the battlefield.]

Comments

[stonefaith]

[ All right, well, that seems to render the biology questions moot. Bariyan grabs a knife and fork and makes his way to Martin, pressing the silverware into the boy's hands. But he keeps his eye fixed on Koltira, watches him pick up the sword... has it always glowed like that?

Bariyan leans back against the counter, and crosses his arms. ]

You're welcome to stay, if you'd like. [ Just following up on Martin's statements, extending the offer. As is probably polite. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[Indeed, it has not always glowed like that. The black miasma crawling up and down the sword's blade leaps and arcs over the hilt as Koltira takes hold of it, swirling around his fingers for a moment before settling. He returns the sword to his back, and then bows his head slightly, his eyes moving from Martin's anxious face to Bariyan's crossed arms. His welcome is done, he thinks.]

It's time for me to go. [he turns, lifts a hand in farewell.] Eat as much as you can, Martin. And the both of you--take care.

[theguideless]

[after that sword's been secured, Martin's grip on the silverware slacks, and he presses them on the counter before trotting over the small distance to the elf, reaching out and grabbing at sleeve/gauntlet/glove??/ARTICLE OF FOREARM-BASED CLOTHING ON AN ELF to tug it.]

You'll come back, right? You'll come again. And show me how to do the rest? So it's not just cutting potato skins...

[stonefaith]

[ Bariyan stays right where he is, unmoving, unblinking. It seems like an abrupt departure... an abrupt departure to go with an almost equally abrupt arrival.

But Bariyan finds none of it strange. He figures that Koltira just has something else to do, perhaps. Other appointments to keep. Or maybe he's just tired of his time here -- fair enough.

So Bariyan merely nods, in acknowledgement. And: ]

Thank you.

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira's in his suit, wearing leather gloves. Because of their insulation, he lightly covers Martin's hand with his own, though only for a few seconds. He murmurs.]

Perhaps, child. [this, of course, being code for 'no'. He glances at Bariyan and nods stiffly in return. Again, everything is taken wrongly; badly. He is an interloper here, and he has intruded long enough. The task he set himself has been accomplished; he need not impose upon these two any longer. What little words they exchanged had been stilted, halting. It translates to discomfort and reticence to Koltira's mind, and he's hardly surprised by it. He's rarely experienced otherwise, after all.

Gently, Koltira pulls away from Martin. He opens the door and steps back out into the hallway. Truth be told, Koltira has no particular agenda, and nowhere really to go. He just knows he shouldn't be here.

And so he leaves.]