Hunter was an odd sort of deadly. He could teleport and he could shift and he utilized both abilities to pop up behind Drystan, a familiar body pressed against his back and spindly limbs wrapped around his torso and his waist. There was no cascade of long blonde hair so he was either in that in-between shape he took or Dorian's, and cackling to himself as he clung on like a little Eldritch koala. "PAPERS!" he exclaimed, a blonde-tressed head peering over Drystan's shoulder to look down at the sprawl of things on the bed. "Working? Busy? But ships are stalled. Why are you working?" he asked, almost a bit petulant. Clearly the squiddle had no frame of reference for things like paperwork.
Drystan jumped nearly out of his skin when Hunter appeared behind him, Shoving (or attempting to) shove Hunter off and away in some kind of twisted step and half turn that put Drystan's arms length between him and Hunter. Except, he was being held around his middle, and Hunter's arms only got longer when he stepped away. "FUCK! Ugh...Hunter...." He leaned over a little and held his hand to his chest for a second. and shook his head. It was the sound you'd make at your cat if it jumped out and tried to play with your head, or a dog appearing under your feet. No real anger there, just...shock. "Yes, yes papers...And no, no boats and no diving, but - papers all the same." He leaned over and gathered them up, stacking them together. "I need to find someone on the Island, and I was going through some public records. What about you Hunter, what have you been up to?" He finally smiled at the being.
Hunter did in fact stretch, lengthy fleshy limbs becoming only vaguely flesh-colored appendages made of tendrils and coils. He did register Drystan's surprise, pulling his arms back and tilting his head to recalculate, reconsider whether or not he'd really upset the man. "Was not fucking," he said with a curious chirp to his voice. "Wouldn't it ruin your papers, Drystan?" But then of course the eldest was gathering the stuff up and setting it aside. Hunter came around and leaned against one of the bedposts, frowning as he contemplated the question. "Speaking. Seeing. Dorian and Dinah have met the Bthnknythgof'n to speak of change. For nilgh'ri. For the freedom of magic things. You will meet him too, Drystan. All will sgn'wahl. Will come together." The squiddle was visibly excited, grinning almost manically.
Drystan held the papers in his hand and watched Hunter, "No, no fucking...not right this minute." He made a forlorn face then smiled at him listening to the broken speech. "Wait...Bthnknythgof'n? Your..mother? Or just...Who? " He struggled because the entire idea to pull down the veil, it was something he somewhat openly spoke about to others he knew of that were of supernatural origin. But that someone spoke to Dinah and Dorian - and apparently Hunter about it. "Who is it they spoke to?"
Hunter nodded, blonde floof bobbing up and down as he did. "Not THIS minute, or this one. Maybe some minutes - soon?" But he waved a hand and stepped forward to grab Drystan by the arms, gripping firmly but certainly not strongly enough that the taller man couldn't break free. "Womb. The flesh, where I was made. He is not mother. Dinah has said I am her - '' he paused and thought on the words spoken. " - adopted child. Then Dinah is mother. And the Saah. The Sato, is the womb. But it doesn't matter. All are being together, working together. And someday you will meet the gnaiih yar."
Smiling again to Hunter, he could feel the exuberant excitement peeling off him in waves. “Sato, eh? I think I met him once.” He chewed at the inside of his cheek while thinking, but let it go soon after. “Oh, she’s your…adoptive mother. Ahhh.haha..hahahahh” He laughed and widened his eyes a bit, but did not mutter a word of what he was thinking. Besides, family was family, right? Riiiight. “So..huh…interesting. Sato being your..womb. Good on him for it then…” He scratched at the back of his head. He had no idea how this would all wind up, but he wasn’t affronted by the knowledge, just that it was coming together so well. “I’d really love to meet your Father, Hunter.”
Hunter rubbed Drystan's arms up and down. "He is. Not social. Not like Dorian, or Dinah. Quiet, like you. Consumes. Causes... enjoys... pain, like you." Hunter's grin threatened to split his face a little before he calmed himself and situated his face into something more amenable to human proportions. "You will know him. And the - and my Father. Though. They may devour you... bits and pieces. But they'll leave enough to... grow back." He found it easier to discuss these topics in understandable English, it seemed. Hunter perched himself on the side of the bed, swinging his lanky legs. "I ate an arm today. Flesh and bone and blood. Nothing to waste."
He put his hands on his shoulders and before he could sit on the bed and swing his leg, Drystan pulled him into a hug. He held him close, and warmly, and smoothed his hand over the rippled scars on his back. “I am really just so happy for you. It must be very exciting…” He pulled back from the hug and nodded. “Yes, I recall Dinah lost an arm to him, but he is just hungry. No one can blame him for that.” He let him go and Hunter sat on the edge of the bed. “I grow back fast, almost as fast as Sinah, just..not quite as quick. I am sure I'll be fine.” He tabled the paperwork, with the name ‘Sullivan, Grace’ circled on the paper on top. You had a whole arm? Whose arm was it? A random arm? Someone I might know?” He carried on as if it was the most normal thing to talk to someone about - lunch! Or dinner. He didn't judge Hunter for what he ate. He himself had his fair share of fresh meat and blood in his lifetime, though it wasn’t just for a light snack.
Hunter stiffened up as Drystan pulled him into an embrace, the Eldritch spawn's skin seeming to quiver beneath those fingertips. Scarred or not his flesh was sensitive, too many nerve endings to ignore even that slight touch. "The Saahh's arm," he answered, adjusting and squirming a little as he sat on the edge of the bed. "He feeds. He gives flesh. It is how he..." he trailed off, oddly humanoid lips pouting and working as he searched for the words. "...you and Dinah pet and stroke and embrace. And he gives flesh. It is the same thing." Hunter's eyes - one of the many, had briefly alighted on the paper and he cocked his head to look toward it with his main two. "Are you looking for this person, Drystan?"
Drystan opened his mouth a bit in an “Ahhh..” Though he wondered where Sato got the arm, or if it was his own. “It is how he shows care for you.” He looked over at the papers and waved a hand at them. “I am. I think she might be the reason the fog is here. I have a very not great feeling that she has some kind of bone to pick with me, or my family, and has gone and summoned…something, someone…actually..” He snapped his fingers and in a moment there were several books flying around them flipping pages in a fury as most landed on articles and inscriptions about one of the Outer Gods. He was not as well versed in all of the Gods as Dinah was, his faith only coming into its own within the last year or so. “Do you know of …here..” He grabbed one of the books and pointed to the name “Nyog'Sothep” and an inked drawing of a mist crawling across a valley, and something like eyes and arms and whatnot blurred into it so that it almost seemed to creep across the page. “The Nameless Mist.” He frowned, and took another of the books out of the air and read a few lines, “Apparently…he might well be your …grandfather? I think? I really don’t know that much about it, other than its brother to my patron, Nyarlothotep.”
Hunter giggled and grinned as the books came flying, watching them whiz around the room as he tilted this way and that to avoid any that came close to clipping him in the head. Once Drystan specified what he was researching Hunter visibly paled, shrinking just a little as if spooked by the subject. "Nyog'Sothep," he repeated, a shudder running over the squiddle's form. "Is... n'ghft. Darkness. Beyond the kadishtu - the understanding of human mind. Out of the dark came Yog-Sothoth, and of the Yog-Sothoth is the Gnaiih Yar. But Nyog'Sothep is... beyond this realm, always. Not here. Does not make... make a physical self. Nyog'Sothep is old. Older than the Yog-Sothoth. Can do... can do many things."
“Hmmm…that's what I thought too, I mean..what I read. But that can’t be right. WHo the fuck would try and summon THAT …for any reason. Pfft.” All the books slammed closed and floated back to various surfaces. “Don’t worry about that Hunter. It was just…some wild guessing. I …met a man that told me some things, and I know…that woman..” He pointed at the papers on the table. “She’s got something to do with it. But I’ll find her, just a matter of time.” He gave Hunter a reassuring smile. “Don’t fret. No one is that …reckless. Not even us!” He gave a huff of a laugh and patted the squiglges eyeballed arm, aiming to not poke one. “So, you had an arm… Are you struggling to …hunt for yourself? Or is it just a special treat from your.. Saahh? If you ever need to eat a big healthy meal, we can work on that together. Just let me know.” A little sparkle shone in his eye. His hunting lessons would be altogether different than what Dorian had shown him.
Drystan Windgrace looked at his arm and then really took in the look and the feelings Hunter was giving off. He's never encountered a fear like that in a being like this, but he understood it. His blood ran like ice for a moment and he took a deep breath. He put his hand around his tendrils, trying to calm the shaking and rattling he was given by Hunter. "Yes....but we must be very very very careful. I need to talk to Dinah. She can help too. It will be a ...Family Hunt. How about that? We don't want to spook her, if she is up to anything, so we need to just take it slow, and figure out what to do next, okay? Don't go...teleporting to her and start snapping necks and having a snack. OKay? You understand?" He looked at hunter, concerned for him, for involving him, but he knew things and could help. Dinah would approve - she was the one that said he and Hunter should be closer...though he doubted quite highly she meant as close as he had become to him. "You need to ...give a vow...a promise? To not do anything without checking with myself or Dinah first."
Hunter gave the man an exaggerated frown that looked more like an upside-down C than anything human lips would do. "Family Hunt," he repeated but he stared at Drystan for a long time before actually responding. When asked for a promise he retracted the tendrils that had wrapped around the eldest sibling's arm. "Tharanak. Promise," he agreed and offered Drystan an actual hand or facsimile of one anyway. "I will check with you or Dinah. No teleporting and snapping. No snacking." He gave a firm if slightly tremulous handshake.
/me gave him a sad look but he nodded firmly as he was presented with a hand. He took it in his. “And I promise, You’ll be there when we do get her and figure out what is going on.” He gave it a shake, in affirmation of their promise to one another. “So other than snacking, what do you have for the evening? Plans? Going out to … uh, …i don’t know. Find lemons with Free, save the whole Island from developing scurvy? Hm?” He lifted and fixed his collar, popping the potion amulet into his shirt. “I ….have a meeting to attend. With Doctor Roesler.” He looked over to Hunter to gauge his reaction. “He lets you see your father, right?”
Hunter mimicked that nod with one of his own. "I will be there for the Family Hunt," he affirmed. Once the shake was done Hunter's grip lingered, staying encircled around Drystan's wrist as he thought over the next inquiries. Bringing up Free made all his eyes blink, not in tandem. "We do not hunt the same things," he answered with a tilt of his head back and forth from one shoulder to the other. "And the lemons. I do like the lemons. But... still hungry afterward." Hunter raised his hand, some of the tendrils of his forearm still circled around Drystan's wrist as his 'hand' poked at the collar and the bulge the amulet made in his shirt. There was no pause or contemplation at the name but a little wrinkle formed on his face, somewhere between a snarl and a smile and whatever those did to human facial muscles. "I can see the gnaiih yar always. The wards on his chamber do not keep me out." His hand lowered and clasped fully around Drystan's wrist again, some of the tendrils beginning to creep up his arm. "How do you want to go?"
He felt the cling of Hunter to him no matter what he did with his hands, and side glanced at what might very well be Hunter's version of a scowl. He looked down at his hand and the tendrils that were creeping up his arm, “I see… uhm…Hunter what do you mean by…*how*? If he’s in his airship, I can just walk down to the porter, catch a lift?” He jutted his other hand's thumb in the general upwards direction. He let the pressure go on Hunter’s hand but he held firm. “Hunter…”
Hunter scoffed. Before he said anything else the squiddle's form was melting down into inky oil-slick blackness and smoothing itself over Drystan's skin. It slid along his arms and up underneath his, taking quite the liberty of gliding along the skin of his chest, ringing around his torso before oozing out of the collar of his shirt and out from under the bottom hem. The black ooze joined again at Drystan's back before extending out into a pair of wings. They formed bat-like spines with webbing in between much like Dinah's own and flapped, generating enough lift to scatter some things about the room and yank Drystan into the air by his impromptu squiddle-harness. <We can fly!> Hunter explained and flapped, buffeting Drystan toward one of the windows. <Open it, Drystan!>
The Squiddling of his harness was quick, and getting lifted up off his feet seemed to happen all at once. “OH SHIT!” THe window flew open while his lanky long arms and legs tried to find some way to be in this situation, to get himself to hold his arms and lift his legs and be ready for that window that had flung open for them. “Huuunnterrrrr!” He flailed, literally, and squinted his eyes as they lurched forward towards the window, things flying around the room with the flap of bat-like wings big enough to hold his weight.
Hunter could not be heard aloud but the giggle and cackle of his amusement certainly echoed in Drystan's brain. What began as a tinkle of windchime became a raucous protesting clatter as the wind chime flew off its hook and down out into the yard below. Once Drystan was on the ledge of the window Hunter did not hesitate to flap BACKward, giving Drystan's body a push of air from behind. Luckily Hunter was well-versed in the mechanics of flight. The wings fanned out, catching the wind and flapping to bear him up and into the sky, angling to catch currents and drift higher and higher before beginning to make his way through the clouds and towards the doctor's ship.
Drystan watched as the wind chimes clattered to the ground below. “Aw…well bloody hells..” He was lifted up, and Hunter did his absolute best Batwing duties, slipping them through the night, off currents and heat lifts, till finally Roesler’s airship loomed ever closer. <Please land smoothly pleaselandsmoothlyPLEASEOhlandsmoothlyplease> was all his mind would give off as they made for the deck.
Niles had, at some point, been expecting a visit but this particular manner of visit came as a surprise. Risley, his resident advisor in all things that could be considered a weather occurrence, only had a few moments to warn the doctor that another Windgrace was approaching by wing and it wasn't until Drystan was close enough to be discernible in the clouds that Niles was able to get his staff to stand down.
They had protocol now, after all, for necessary defense against possibly-hostile brothers.
Hunter angled them to descend towards the deck at a steep angle. It didn't look like it would be a terribly smooth way to land until Hunter wrapped himself around Drystan like a suit, urging his body to tuck and roll before springing it up again and onto his feet. Drystan would find himself standing there just in front of the slender fae, black goop wrapped around his legs until Hunter felt he was bearing weight on his own.
"I could have sent a craft," Niles offered, amused.
Something about Drystan’s pallor may have clued Niles into the experience he just had. His legs were covered with Hunter thigh highs, and he looked like he might be ill. Still he stood there wavering a bit till his feet felt like they were firmly planted in place, and he coughed once, shook his head and blinked tears back into his dried out eyes (how was he supposed to BLINK during all of that?) and squared his shoulders, tugging down on his vest. “Hello Niles.” He quickly grabbed hold of the railing, and waited for Hunter to re-Hunterize himself into ..something. “I would have let you know, but it was a rather, …sudden choice.”
Niles evidently knew better than to reach out to touch a Windgrace with Hunter so intimately entwined with them. He waited for the Eldritch spawn to form himself into one of his more innocuous forms - a rabbit draped over Drystan's shoulder - before reaching out a hand to offer it as some form of stability for the eldest son. "He does seem to be getting rather bold lately," mused the doctor. "I suppose that means he's grown comfortable. Secure. Children are most carefree when they feel safe. Take my hand. I can resolve any vertigo for you."
Drystan reached out and took his hand happily in greeting and to stop his head from spinning right on the edges constantly, that's a plus. He was quick to reply though, “He’s no child, though he might be Dinah’s …baby, I know him more for what he truly is, I suppose.” He looked at the bunbun on his shoulder and quirked a half smile. “Though he is rather cute in these forms, I do wonder if Dorian didn’t keep rabbits, and Dinah didn’t coddle him, we may have wound up with something else entirely different.” He reached up and pet the squidlebun as he’d seen Dinah do a hundred times. “Either way, It’s not a complaint. I’d rather this than just all teeth and hunger.” He left his hand in Niles’ longer than a handshake while he spoke.
Niles Roesler was true to his word. His hand gripped Drystan's and the push of his mind spread to Drystan's own, fading out discomfort and nausea, stilling any wobbling imbalances. "He is, in the context of the Elder Gods. But I understand what you mean. He's a... mature creature, in the right sense." The doctor's lips curled into a knowing smile but he said nothing on the topic, instead giving Drystan's hand a little tug before releasing it and turning to lead him toward the receiving room of that led down to the rest of the ship.
"I imagine Hunter would be quite different had Dinah not brought him through to this world or taken it upon herself to nurture him. Teeth and hunger are quite a large part and best not to be forgotten... even if the hungers are myriad and not always so deadly." Niles held the door open, gesturing for Drystan to enter first. The receiving room was familiar. Like a sitting room with coat racks and a little bar to fetch drinks while roaming the rest of the ship. Niles went to the latter and opened up a cabinet, gesturing at the bottles on display. "A scotch? A bourbon? Some wine?"
Drystan felt instantly better, and was glad for it, and he gave the handshake that last little pull before bringing his hand away. Drystan had no reason to think the smile was anything other than just Roesler being Roesler, so he gave him a smile back and followed him into the ship. “Ohhh I don’t forget the teeth or hunger, believe you me.” He didn't have a seat immediately, but sort of shuffled around looking at things, as he’d never had much time to really take in any of the details, not the way he could now. His third eye opened and he gazed quietly, before turning to address the question. “Since it’s just for flavor, wine would be excellent. Thank you.” He turned back and looked up a moment and aimlessly readjusted the cuffs on his sleeves, quick turned at the elbow. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but we…the siblings and I, have rendezvous periodically that involve Tindalos Hounds. After our last little party, some came through, looking to fix what they thought may have been broken. Not the case, but I'll tell you what. Having shards of time splinter in your skin is ..not fun, I don’t recommend it at all. It comes out when it wants, and dissipates into itself, but it hurts like hell.” He turned and awaited the glass of wine.
The ship was a modern marvel. Technomancy ran through its workings and the plants that served as decor also served as mental conduits, way stations of a sort that linked the crew via the simpler and yet still commandable consciousness in each lifeform. The walls were a darker wood, paneling well accented with lush red drapes and golden flourishes in tasteful amount. "Just for flavor? Are you insinuating you can't get drunk, Drystan?" he said as he ran his fingers over the label of one wine bottle before moving to take another, unmarked and held in crystal clear glass. The wine inside was a rosy pink and an adornment of ivy encircled the neck of the bottle. "I take it you've never had fae wine. We'll have to change that. Something of a special occasion, you see."
Telekinesis uncorked the bottle and poured a respectable drink into each. As he went to hand one over to Drystan the bottle sealed itself up with a wine-saver and put itself away. "Hounds. Time-wardens, correcting discrepancies... I might have wondered. I'm glad to see that you siblings have come out of it mostly in one piece. I've had sharp brushes with time shards in the past. I certainly agree that it isn't an experience to be borne lightly." He raised the glass in a toast. "To your visit. And all that it brings."
Taking the glass and examining it, a quiet little smile played on his face. “Oh, I can, it just…takes quite a bit. That lovely metabolism we three share. I’ve been accused of being a drunkard before, but honestly, it's just an attempt at an excess.” His brow went up at the notion of a special occasion, but lifted his glass in turn, “Hear hear.” He toasted and brought the wine up to his nose and took a deep breath in, before finally giving it a nice sip. He opened his eyes a bit wider, feeling that pinch of strong spirit, but it wasn’t overpowering, this was dangerous, and possibly wonderful. “Well, now I am informed. Hm.” He gave an approving sort of nod and took another small sip. “But do tell, what the special occasion is? Local holiday that I've no knowledge of happening?” He grinned at himself and the slight self depreciation.
Niles Roesler took a little sip of his own glass, humming his appreciation of the flavor and the sweetness. It was crisp, impossibly cool, impeccably refreshing.... and terribly intoxicating. The wine smelled of strawberries and something tart, half like white grapes and half citrus. "There is a spring in the Wylds," Niles explained. "Trade something suitable to the sprite that lives there and she will procure for you a bottle of the strongest, most refreshing wine you've ever tasted. If it isn't... well then your trade was disappointing, or Aine was feeling mischievous that day." He chuckled, swirling the liquid. "It's no holiday. It's a matter of ah, family. And growing familiarity. And I confess I'm not entirely sure how closely you all, as a family, observe the custom." Niles paused for a moment before coming a few steps closer to Drystan. "I wanted to ask if you had any... reservations or protests to the idea of me continuing my association with your sister as a suitor, rather than simply as a friend. With... the knowledge, of course, that your family and its intricacies work rather differently from most. For one... I have no plans to sunder her from her dear twin nor do I intend to stop her from continuing their particular pattern of intimacy."
Another sip, and he snuffed a laugh before taking another, trying to not just guzzle it all, as it was terribly good, and the thought of an ornery sprite dishing out bottles of it was pretty funny on top. But as Niles continued to speak, he lowered his glass some and the mirth left his face. He was now looking at him with a slightly lifted chin, considering his words carefully. Quietly with mouth closed still, he licked the front of an eyetooth and sniffed a bit. “Are you asking for my …permission?” He said finally, “..as well as proclaiming a death wish? I know my sister is quite enchanting, but really Niles? Dorian will never stop being Dorian, and it will be round after round of his blood boiling over and you winding up in some physical altercation with him, and Dinah being absolutely beside herself, coming to me to confide in and try to make it all better?” He gesticulated with the glass in hand. “What part of you thinks I want that for her? For myself? Forever the arbiter.” He rolled his eyes and took a goodly sip off the glass and moved himself to the couch and set himself down with a bit of a huff, knees spread, holding the glass between his thighs. “Literally, forever.” He wasn't looking at Niles now, or anything really, more like a space just in front of him where scenario after possible scenario played itself out in hyperspeed. “...And why would I want that for you?” he finally added before just draining the glass and setting it on a nearby small table, and returning to his position.
Niles Roesler considered the response, the inquiries. The logic was sound behind Drystan's reservations, of course. But permission? Niles chuckled and shook his head. "...no. No, actually I'm not." The doctor downed his own glass before simply letting it hang in the air, his fingers sliding along the bell of the glass body to set it spinning as he passed it by. "I am asking your thoughts and feelings on the matter. Yes I'm aware... both of how mad it makes me seem and how steadfast Dorian's devotion to his sister will be. Unfortunately for him I'm far harder to kill than the men he's dealt with in the past." Seating himself next to Drystan, Niles turned to face him, head tilting downward so he could indicate the black rabbit on Drystan's shoulder. Hunter was... tense, to say the least. "Regardless of Dorian's opinion of me your family and I are already linked. The shard, as she calls him, connects us. That is more than Dorian can punch out of my body." Leaning forward and setting his elbows on his knees, Niles caught Drystan's eyes with an unblinking stare. "This is more than passion for your sister. Though - don't be mistaken. I am fond. But I harbor no misconceptions on where her affections most strongly lie nor am I particularly put out by it."
Drystan wasn’t frowning. But his head was spinning just a little and he wasn’t so sure he liked that bit, at juuuuust this juncture. “I know you’re much stronger than you let on Niles. I don’t fear for your life, or Dorian’s really. Dinah will blink you out of existence if you ever actually hurt him.” That much was fact. “Well I’m glad you’re not asking permission. I’m not my fucking father.” Now he was a little pissy, but who could fault him for that? “You two.. Do as you do. Make her happy. She’s never really…”
He stopped himself and looked down as well of emotions smacked him into being mute. He didn’t want to finish that statement, nor think the thoughts that came with them. So, with a practiced mental gesture hundreds of years old, he just shut it off. He turned a bit in his seat, taking a deep breath. “She’s not had ample opportunity in her adulthood to experience the sort of freedom a ..’regular’ romance could offer her. I wouldn’t deny her that. She can take care of herself.” He sat back again and motioned his glass over to the air where Niles’ still spun about gently. “You mind?” He lazily pointed in its direction. “So there you have it Niles. My thoughts. I don’t want anyone to be hurt, emotionally or otherwise. Insight? If you care for it; She will undoubtedly, if she hasn’t already, develop a very fervent bond. Obsessive. Dorian would never look at another woman, but if she even feels in the slightest he might have? I fear for both his and the woman’s life. She does not hmm… She never had to share anything… doesn’t play well with others. Like Ilravel. Your little ‘gift project’ makes all the more sense now, not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, but..pft.” He scoffed. “I honestly don’t know how well she’d take to the idea of sharing you with anyone. She’ll have her cake and eat it too.” Clearly he wasn’t bashing his sister, it was all just…the facts as he saw them.
Niles gestured and the bottle returned, unstoppering to refill both their glasses. He joined Drystan on his feet but did not reach for a glass, instead putting a hand on the other man's shoulder and gripping firmly. "No. I've seen you do this. Shut off, turn away. I've walked your dreams, Drystan. You'll not do this with me," he said, calm and quiet but absolutely certain in the words. "I couldn't and won't offer Dinah a 'regular' romance, just as she could never hope to offer me or any other man such a thing. It isn't the point." A nod of his head and Drystan's glass floated back over to him. Niles pondered it and the eldest Windgrace for a moment before speaking again. "Are you worried for yourself, then?" he asked, brazen as he stepped forward, one finger on the base of Drystan's glass tipping it just enough to put a sip of wine into his own mouth as he waited for the reply.
Drystan flicked his eyes daringly up at Niles, as cool as a cucumber as he was, “And you’ll not tell me what to do with my own thoughts, Doctor Roesler. You walked in one, that I very vaguely recall whilst unconscious. I certainly don’t recall giving you free reign of all my thoughts.” Calm, but also as certain. That switch remained in the ‘off’ position firmly. He did smirk though when Niles sipped from the glass. “At least you’re inquiring about my thoughts now. Worried for myself? How so? Other than having a possibly more unstable sister in my future to contend with. Or are you asking about something else?”
Niles kept his smile in the face of Drystan’s own stubbornness. “I might remind you that once upon a time you sought my services as a physician and advisor,” he chided once he’d swallowed his sip of wine. “I’d like to know your thoughts on this and other matters. But you’re right, I’ll not force you. Truths are best given willingly. But there’s no need to tuck such things away in this case, you know. I can weather Dorian’s physicality; I’m quite sure I can handle what you have to say.” There was a pause however in the face of that following query. Niles finally reached for his own glass, gently toasting it against the curved exterior of the other. “You’re not concerned for me nor for Dinah in regards to her own obsessions. Her lack of ability to share. I was wondering if perhaps you might be concerned for yourself, should she become aware of the fact that she isn’t the sole sibling I happen to fancy.”
“Where you come up with your conclusions, I’ll never know. I am clearly concerned for her and for you, I’ve said as much. And yes, I came to you as a patient, for a medical service. Somehow that wound up being more. I wouldn’t be sitting here talking with you if I didn't want to be. If nothing but myself mattered, as you insinuate.” He reached up and took the glass that had clinked with his, pulling it down to take a drink. He sat back and shook his head. “Actually….I’m not too concerned for myself. She probably won’t like it, but she loves me. And I, her. She might throw me out a window, or smash my canvases, or rip my face off. I don’t know. But I’ll heal, and she’ll still love me.”
Niles Roesler did not seem perturbed by any upset or any assumption that Drystan made based on his commentary. He nodded, tilting his head to look at the other man. "I'm not trying to imply you were only concerned about yourself, Drystan... I was attempting to ascertain if you wanted to continue pursuing something more, even in light of - " he gestured around. " - everything." He paused, listening carefully to the little list of Dinah-style devastations the woman could wreak and chuckled. "Dinah's more violent habits would target me before you, I think. Whatever fondness she may have for me, I am not family... and she's made it very clear that family rules all." Niles took a sip, humming as he licked it from his lips. "Her intimate experiences lie with family and there is no promise of it between us, her and I. Would you change our interactions, were I to court your sister?"
He thought a long minute, let the silence of the ship envelop the both of them, and sighed, looking over. “I don’t involve myself in her intimacies. And, ….no. I wouldn’t change things, unless she wished for it.” He took a deep breath, his head feeling light and swimming. “It’s up to her, really.” He swished the wine around in the glass and watched it as it crawled down the inside to meet with the mass of it swirling around. “And up to you, of course. I enjoy your fancy, likely too much. You’re a busy man with lots of things to take up your attention, lots of people. I don’t mind being just on a list of interests, if that is what it’s to be. But I have seen you as something of…hmm, I don’t know. On a different level. I know, and you know..there is more going on that meets /most/ eyes. I’m not sure how other to explain that, but to put it plainly, I’d like to see us as more than just a casual mind fuck, or otherwise. I think we share much in common.”
Niles Roesler took a few pacing steps, none bearing him too terribly far from Drystan's personal space nor too much further into it. "I suppose it is. Such relations, for me, have never been monogamous affairs. Your sister I'm unsure of. She has the capacity for it, if her persistent favor of her brother while able to pursue the companionship of others - myself, that boy in Paris for example - is anything to speak of. It's ground to tread carefully. But certainly ground I'd be curious to tread." He took another sip, shutting his eyes as recollections of shadows playing across a Dreamscape came to mind. "You're not wrong. There's commonality. And beyond that, I see a sharpness in your eyes that goes beyond the simple capacity for bloodletting that ritual adoration of the Old Gods requires." Niles nodded toward the stairs that led downward to the halls of quarters and the Galley, and the Chirurgie beyond. "Do you know how I keep my ship fed, Drystan?" he asked as he urged the man to follow him.
Curious as ever, Drystan got to his feet to follow behind Niles. “I’d never given it much thought honestly. You mean, the ship? Or the crew? Or..both?” He shook out his legs and gave Hunter Bun a pat as he set him on the couch to snuggle up in the warm spot he’d left. “Stay here, okay? I won’t be long.” He took his glass with him though when they left the room, wondering idly if they, his family could get ahold of more of it, since it did the job so damn well. The long halls and such sort of all looked the same after a while, but it didn't matter to him much.
Niles Roesler chuckled. "Both. But primarily the crew. Consider the shortage of supply," he explained. Drystan didn't need to worry about the glass... the bottle drifted along behind them as if borne by an unseen attendant - or carried by telekinesis. "There's really no need. Considering how often he visits his father I'm sure Hunter is more than aware," Niles said as they left the squiddle behind. True to form the bunny did hop down briefly - only to hop right back up again. He'd been told to stay after all. He settled in but hardly seemed to sleep. "Your sister isn't quite as fond of the fae wine, you know," Niles mused as they walked on, turning past the Galley where some form of roast was easily picked up on the nose. "Too strong, I think. And who knows how Aine manages to get it done. Fae are resourceful creatures but the behind-the-scenes isn't often what people like to see." Niles turned past the Galley itself and continued onward, down another flight of stairs to the lower decks where Deadman's chamber and the Chirurgie sat at the far end. "How many people have you killed in your time, Drystan?" he asked casually, turning to pause at the Chirurgie door.
Walked alongside and sometimes a couple steps behind him as they went on, “Oh yes…He should visit if he so chooses..I’d …forgotten about that as well. Good wine.” He smirked at the thought of his sister being too drunk on it. “She maybe just didn’t know what she was up against, she handles herself and her substances fairly well, survives on them..” He laughed a little to himself, imagining the hoards of chocolates and sweets and spirits they had hidden away in the house to make sure she didn't suffer too harshly through these troubled times - tobacco…was another deal altogether. Then his nose caught the smell of roasting things in the Galley and let his whole head turn and he walked slower past the galley doors to savor the smells, his stomach audibly agreeing that he was always hungry. Once they went down the skip of stairs into the bowels of the ship and stopped at the door, he paused and tilted his head as he was asked this question.
“I…have….no idea.” He blinked and then tried to concentrate, and maybe do a little math, but that wasn't going to help much. “Let’s say for the sake of my lack of keeping a toll, it is more than a thousand.” He looked back at Niles’ face and made a sturgeonesque frowny face, pulling up his shoulders. “I’ve lived for 400 years or so..so I, guess?” He was at a true loss. There was nearly every ritual sacrifice they’d done since they started the rituals when he was nearing 30, and then the Navy, and then his own madness which could claim multiple at once, or one string. “Why? Does that really matter?”
Niles Roesler smiled widely when Drystan's interest was piqued by the smell of food. "Gauging. Learning. Why else would anyone ask a question?" he responded. The Chirurgie door had no handle and no window. It opened by telekinetic power alone and when it did, the smell of blood hit the nose stronger than any meal the Galley was working on. Laying on the operating table was a body, chest carved open with the ribs spread, the chest wall muscles on display and half-regenerated. Each limb was still connected to the torso by arteries and veins kept carefully intact while vines rather than sinew and muscle held things aloft. The lungs in that chest still inflated, the heart still beat - that body was still alive, the expression on its face one of blissful sleep. At the head of the table Roesler's dryad stood, orange and red, gold and violet adorning his skin. His hands were pressed to the side of the living meat-source on the table, evidently keeping the poor woman alive. "Wonderful thing, regeneration. Find a person with as rapid and robust an ability for it as your family has and the source of meat is endless... so long as it doesn't offend the moral palate," he explained.
He blinked when the door slid open and the smell of blood hit him. It was thick in the air to the point where when he took a breath, he could taste it. This sent a whole new set of senses alive in his head as he widened his eyes at the body, walking past Niles, not asking permission, and not caring about the dryad keeping the meat sack content, to gaze closer at the set up, at her content face. He could see and recall how often she had been used and how little it mattered to her. He seemingly forgot where he was, who was with, or even the politeness to ask before sticking your fingers into someone's meal. But he did just that, his pointer and middle, slid along the chest wall and down into the small pool of blood there. Before he had time to think his fingers were in his mouth and his eyes had closed, and he was taking in a shuddering breath afterwards. He was already drunk on the fae wine, but now he was craving the blood drunkenness that connected him to the universe.
Kiernan was his own form of this woman, but he didn’t eat what eventually grew back. The dogs usually got that, or it was tossed to the sea. Now that he knew of the Yog-pool, there was an even better way. But he did enjoy playing with all of it. The mess, the gore, and of course his blood was addictive, rich and full of fire.
Staggering backwards a step or two towards Niles in the doorway, he smacked his back into the doorframe and it brought him out of that haze enough that he turned and looked wide eyed at Niles, blinking. “I’m…sorry. I didn’t mean to just..” His mouth was bloody, his hand he pulled up was, and he tried to rub it from his lips with the back of that hand.
Niles Roesler watched Drystan's trance-like exploration of the room, of the body with an intent gaze. He took in every twitch of muscle in his face, every change in expression and hitch in breath. There was no sign of dalliance with this body, no trace of sexual endeavor in the 'cattle' the doctor chose to reap and let regrow. She was kept clean and sterile and dreamlike, alive and nourished by IVs and other such tubes. Whether she had been there and simply hidden when Dinah came to visit him or had been procured after the fact was certainly a question - but not one Niles intended to address with the eldest sibling if not asked. The doctor did not step into the room himself until Drystan was bumping into the doorframe and coming back to the present. Then he was moving forward, one hand gripping the bloodied one as the door shut behind them to offer some form of privacy. "No apologies. Though if you've been contaminated by spores I will be slightly cross that you've infected my food supply," he chided but the tone was playful.
The glass in Drystans other hand was let go of and it hovered still next to him as Niles took his bloodied hand and came towards him, the door slipping shut behind him. “No, I dreamed of them before they arrived. I see them more clearly, they stand out to me like a glow about them, I can avoid the spore clouds, I create a buffer between myself and the outdoors…” He tapped his forehead with his free hand, indicating how. Yes of course, simply using your mind to manipulate the very air currents. No big deal, so obvious. He smiled sort of sideways at him. “So now I know how all of your delicious meals are made. And that I should be far more offended that you've not had me up here for dinner more often.”
Niles Roesler smiled, wide and sinuous. Once the lack of shroom contamination was confirmed he leaned in and sucked the remaining blood from Drystan's fingers. Once he'd smacked his lips he released the man's hand. "Quiet the capable mind," he said with no small amount of genuine respect. Niles was a psychic master himself - he knew when to appreciate another's mental gifts. "So many of the island's residents are carnivorous and yet fine dining to this degree is frowned upon by much of society," he said with a wave of his hand. "Not exactly the sort of thing you show potential family until you've got reasonable suspicion they won't be terribly offended. Dorian and Dinah's attendance of my dinner party might have been clue enough but a one-time indulgence smacks of novelty." A warm palm, slender fingers pressed against the front of Drystan's abdomen. "If you're quite sure you and your siblings would enjoy being treated to such a thing on a regular basis I'd be happy to indulge you more often."
He watched his fingers disappear into Niles’ mouth and a part of his spine near its base loosened. Intensely watching the man's mouth slide from his skin, he exhaled slowly and grinned at the compliment. “Society in general, doesn’t know what’s good for itself, I’d wager.” He watched his mouth as he spoke, flicking his eyes back up to meet Niles’ eyes. “I was… having an ‘episode’.. Couldn’t attend, but I still got leftovers. Quite the night that was. I …exploded a man in our living room for suggesting I was a monster, something to be chained away in your mental institution. I’ve learned my lesson though. Dinah made that quite clear to me…/”Not in the house, dear.”/ He laughed at himself and shook his head. “What a fucking mess. But I had no control.” He shrugged some and leaned his head to the side as Niles’ hand pressed against his abdomen, leaning his hips forward to press into the touch. “I can’t speak for them. Only myself. And I did mean, that you needed to have me for dinner. Not just to enjoy this..” He nodded over towards the table. “But for you to enjoy this…” He reached up and palmed Niles cheek, then dragged his hand through the back of his hair and further so that the inside of his forearm pressed against his cheek, toying at the corner of his mouth.
Niles Roesler remembered well that in the twists of shadow of that dreamscape quite a few images were more grotesque than his human form would allow, than 'banal' society would stand for. "Loss of control is best experienced in good company," he advised. There was no movement, not at first as Drystan moved to expose the inside of his wrist to his mouth. Niles certainly did not move even as some of the surgical packages on nearby shelves peeled themselves open. Packages rustled and metal clicked against itself, a couple of forceps and a scalpel blade skimming into view. The blade drew itself slowly, neatly down Drystan's wrist, careful to avoid the blood vessels, even the musculature beneath. It sought only to make a slit. Each set of forceps grabbed one side of cut skin and pulled, helped by unseen fingers that probed beneath to separate skin from connective tissue. Niles used his telekinetic powers in surgery often, it seemed. "Have you ever experienced yourself being eaten alive, I wonder? Did it happen once and stoke a fervid hunger for another experience?" he mused as he watched the proceedings, the hand on Drystan's abdomen sinking lower to hook fingers in behind the leather of his belt. He did nothing to undo it.
-FTB-