[center Sirens sound in the distance. Horns blare. Stoplights flicker, dim in the coming dark. People rush by on the sidewalks while cars cruise by, rumbling over dry pavement. The world is at peace.]
[center And yet it is not. A dark power crushes close, insinuating itself among humankind secretly. Velveteen claws are curled into places of security and power, sheathed only until they can strike once and decisively. Every institution has been infiltrated. The intruders are everywhere, hidden in plain sight. Until the claws are unsheathed and the trap snapped shut, even the infiltrators do not know what they are. Human in appearance, human in nature, in every way, from memory to appearance, a perfect replica of those whom they have replaced. ]
[center There is no secret organization to oppose them. There is no resistance to be had against that which does not exist. Those who discover the truth cast their eyes aside and claim they did not see, for to admit to have seen such horror is to admit insanity. ]
[center Their patience is boundless. They have waited for generations, for millennia, watched humanity claw its way towards the unknowable beyond, but now their waiting is almost done. The coil bends, the pressure plate dips, the spring is compressed. And when the trap is sprung, nothing will be left of this Earth but ash.]
The black goat's thousand young are among us, perfectly disguised, preparing their final assault upon the Earth. When the thousandth child arrives, then will their disguises be cast aside and Earth's dominion shall be transferred to those beyond human understanding.
We play a pair of humans who have been upset from their homes by imposters who are, impossibly, identical to themselves in every way, down to the very memories. My character has been displaced for some time, while yours has only just been replaced. In this time of confusion, your character finds themselves drawn to mine, and mine offers yours guidance, hope, and a way to fight. So long as all thousand are not on earth, the trap remains unshut. And we two are the only two who know, the only two who can oppose them.
I want this roleplay to be dark and mature-themed. The black goat's young cannot be told from ordinary mortal humans until after a vital blow has been struck. There will be paranoia, fear, uncertainty, and surest of all, death. This is a long, hard battle with no certain outcome, where anyone and anything might turn against us at any moment. This roleplay is strongly influenced by Lovecraft, as you might have guessed from the title. The black goat's young are beings that defy human understanding, but they can be killed, or at least sent back to the dark realm from which they come. Romance is not necessary, but I would prefer a heterosexual or mxm relationship, if you desire it. I am very much open to any suggestions you might have as to where the plot might go.
Feel free to ask questions. Please pm me the skeleton below once you are ready to apply. This is not first come, first serve.
[center [b Name: // Age: // Gender: // Personality: // Bio: // Physical description: // Picture: (illustrated) // Sample post:]]
You don't have permission to post in this thread.
The creak of the door cut through his dreams. Bell shifted, brows furrowing into half a frown. Why was it so noisy?
Sheets. He was on nice, soft sheets. Bell contemplated that for a moment. How did I get here? He'd been sleeping outside, ever since Daniel left. Except for when he shared a bed, but it definitely didn't feel like that had happened.
A hand touched his hair. Bell blinked awake at last and found Daniel there. A very drunk Daniel, at that. "What're you doing here?" he mumbled. Daniel plopped to the floor, grabbed at the blankets and almost dragged them off the bed altogether. At that, Bell finally sat up. With a lazy yawn, he grabbed ahold of Daniel and pulled him into bed.
"You'll let me fuck you," he scoffed. Another yawn interrupted him, and then he continued, "Should be 'I want you to fuck me, pretty please, Bell.'"
Daniel was drunk as fuck. Bell looked down at him and sighed. Warm, though. Human and warm and fuck if he didn't want to. He knew it was a bad idea. Daniel was way out of it. It wouldn't be the first time. They'd ended up drunk and naked more times than he could count. Daniel had never seemed to protest it the morning after before, but he never wanted Daniel to have that experience, either.
"Get it up. If you can get it up, I'll fuck you slow and sweet, how's that sound?" He snuggled down in the bed, one arm still slung around Daniel. It was way too early in the morning, but he didn't care. Any time was a good time to hold Daniel. Even if Daniel couldn't perform, he'd still be happy to lie here and cuddle Daniel until he fell back asleep. "Or, I dunno, as hard as you want. Y're wish is my c'mmand."
He yawned and blinked, slowly, each blink taking a little more time to open his eyes again. If Daniel didn't get busy soon, he'd probably fall right back to sleep. "I's fuckin' early," he muttered aloud. Daniel needed to figure out better hours. Or not come home sloppy drunk. "They let you drink on the job?"
He nuzzled up to Daniel and breathed in his scent. It felt so good. So unbelievably good to just lie here and be close.
"This is me," Daniel slurred, water sloshing from the bottle he'd been given by one of his co-workers. He retracted his arm from someone's shoulder and gave a meek wave at his colleagues before stepping into the building. After some fiddling around, Daniel realized he didn't actually have a key, nearly dropped the water, came across Will leaving for his night shift and sneaked on in.
Or as sneaky as a drunk person could get.
Either way he was inside now. Daniel stumbled towards his room, trying the door. Still open. Not as if there was anything of value to take. He leaned against the door frame with one shoulder and looked at Bell-boy's curled up form underneath the sheets. Looked so fucking comfortable. Daniel stepped inside, allowing the door to close and give them privacy. He tipped the bottle back and drained the last of the water before dropping it to the floor.
Fucking thoughtful of Lissa to give him that.
A hiccup escaped him as he fiddled with the buttons of his dress-shirt and swayed in place. Shoes followed, kicked into a corner for later. Pants pooled around his ankles a few seconds later. See? They'd been worried for shit-all. He was fine drunk. Would've been fine to come home alone.
Daniel giggled at the sight of Bell-boy.
"Why are you here, huh? Thought I'd never see you again," he said with a thick tongue. Daniel tried to sit on the bed, missed and slipped down onto the floor. It wasn't that bad, really. It was a familiar place to be. Daniel put his head back against the bed and reached for Bell-boy's hair. "Mohawk," he chuckled. "So typical."
"Hey, Bell-boy, you wanna fuck?" Daniel offered up, shifted a little to get a better look at Bell's face. The world was doing a lazy listing thing he couldn't quite grasp. It was funny though, ridiculously funny.
"I'll let you fuck me," he offered with another badly stifled hiccup. "Hmm," Daniel contemplated sluggishly and reached for the blankets, clumsily peeling some of them back. His elbows were rested on the bed, knees on the floor. He almost threatened to slide off entirely though and Daniel tried to grab hold of something that wasn't quite there.
For a few hours, he wandered the streets, always close behind the loosely-grouped gang. They stopped for food, leaving him to sit outside the back, hungry, the savory scent of burgers warm in his nose. After a few moments of temptation, he gave in and followed one of the staff to the dumpster. The trash they thew in was fresh. Some of the food at the very top was still warm, even.
He had his hands full of secondhand burger when he caught sight of the gang leaving from the corner of his eye. Bell stuffed the rest of it down his throat and followed, chewing as he went.
Further and further. He was starting to get a feel for their territory now, the boundaries and the shape of it. One of them stopped to chat with a man passing by in a truck. Money changed hands, a little baggie was passed to the man with the truck, and the truck drove off.
[i Dealers.] Not surprising, but shit would go down once he killed them if a cartel was involved. He bit his lip thoughtfully. He'd have to go about this carefully.
As the sun set, they vanished into a skeezy-looking strip club. The bouncer leveled Bell with a glare before he even approached that warned Bell off of getting any closer. [i So it's a classy joint, huh?] He smirked at his own joke and wandered away, straightening the mohawk as best he could as he went.
Daniel wasn't back when he arrived. Bell shrugged to himself. No big. He'd said he wouldn't be. The bed was stripped. He poked around some and found the sheets in the washing machine. Bell transferred them to the dryer. Food was up next. Daniel's cupboard didn't look more populated than the last time he'd looked. Bell grabbed the stale bread and munched on it as he peered around the refrigerator for something better. It wouldn't be Daniel's, but then, he wasn't going to be the one who got blamed.
In the very back, he found an abandoned-looking pack of lunchmeat that was only slightly past its date. Bell grabbed it and disappeared into Daniel's room. The dinner of champions.
When the lunchmeat was empty and he was full, he grabbed out the sheets and put them back on the bed as best he knew how. It looked a little haphazard, but he'd seen worse. Bell stripped down to his underwear and curled up in the comfy sheets. Hopefully Daniel wouldn't be angry he'd come back.
"Have you ever heard of a group called Immortals?" Daniel asked Lissa.
She shook her head.
Jackson, who was cleaning out a glass, piped up, "I've heard of them. A gang, right?"
Daniel looked up at the man, surprised and nodded. "You know any of them?"
Jackson shook his head and put the glass down, then rinsed the table-top. Daniel was toying with his food again and huffed. He ought to just force it down, but his gut felt more for having alcohol again. It was quiet, for now. They had plenty of people walking around in the large club at the moment. He'd get back out there in five.
Daniel took to his drink, rather than the food. Without alcohol, it was a bland experience.
"I heard they beat people up sometimes. Rumour has it they can't die, hence the name," Jackson said.
Lissa giggled, "sound silly if you ask me."
Jackson gave her a look.
"Doesn't 'the immortals' already clue everything away? They'll just call misery upon themselves, when people who'd like to test their claims come their way," she said with a shrug. "There's no such thing as immortality."
"I don't think I'd want to be," Jackson piped up. He slung the towel across his shoulder and took the tray of clean glasses back to the front. Daniel watched him go with a bland expression. A hand touched his, gently.
He looked up at Lissa.
"Are you all better?" she asked softly, brushing some of his hair back into place.
Daniel caught her hand. It startled her.
"I'm fine," he said to defuse the situation and pulled her hand down. "You don't need to worry about me, Liss."
Without skipping a beat, Daniel got up, took a few large bites of the food and dumped the rest in the bin. He'd had enough of it all for the time being. And now Bell-boy was back, there was no real point to it no more either.
"The others are staying to have a drink, will you join us?" Lissa asked, eyes cast down. Daniel paused and patted the door-frame he'd got stuck in. Someone squeezed past him, breaking the spell.
"Sure," Daniel decided at last. Because giving it all up for Bell-boy's sake seemed premature. First they'd have to figure out who and what they were to one another again. Without that, there'd be no 'them' to speak of.
No kiss. Oh well. He turned away.
The way Daniel said the name of his bar told Bell not to go there. Bell nodded. He understood.
They weren't really together yet, were they? One roll in the sheets did not a boyfriend make. Bell rubbed his nose and shrugged to himself. It wasn't realistic to expect them to be back to the way they were immediately. It'd take time. It was okay. He was willing to wait.
At least he got the key. "Thanks," he said, pocketing it. He clenched his hand around it for a second before he released it. Daniel had let him back in. That was enough.
The streets were just the way he'd left them: stiflingly humid in the last heat of summer, even as the autumn chill threatened to color leaves brown. Bell yanked at his jacket and looked around. Out to find the idiot gangsters.
He started back where he'd been taken down, but no luck. Seemed they'd found a different place to hang out for a while. [i Well, they did almost kill someone here,] he considered, toeing at the reddish-brown mark where his blood had been. Seemed they were at least smart enough to leave well enough alone.
Further and further. The streets stretched before him, endless with possibilities. There wasn't any hint as to where his immortals might be. No graffiti. No sound of their loud music. He sighed and took a break in the shade of a storefront. [i Today is not my lucky day.]
He hadn't found any hint of the Immortals by the time the sun was dipping under the horizon. Bell started back to Daniel's place, weary from a day's worth of walking. [i At least I've got a bed to go back to.]
A set of men walked by in the opposite direction, chatting loudly with each other. Bell passed them by, then paused. [i That was them, wasn't it?]
[i Keep moving.] He pushed on, away from the men. Around the next corner, he doubled back to follow them. Bell reached up and quickly brushed the mohawk down. Now was not the time to stand out. The goopy hair-gel-encrusted wave felt gross on his head, but he couldn't have it give him away now.
The men turned the corner. Bell casually stepped out to follow them.
Daniel watched Bell-boy rush around the apartment floor to find a mirror and started to pack his things back up. With a few brushes, he'd gathered up most of the fallen hair from the floor and binned them. Head out already, huh?
"Not likely, I work until three AM, give or take," Daniel said with a shrug. Late start, late finish. Story of his latest working career.
He gave Bell-boy a nod on the tagging along. Not today, but maybe another day. He was still a bit tired. A few hours of extra sleep before work never hurt anyone either.
Soon he'd have his card again and they wouldn't be forced to stay anywhere they didn't want to. Freedom. For however long that lasted. Jobs aplenty, Daniel figured.
"Veil," he said when Bell-boy asked the name of the club.
"It's not far from here," Daniel said, waving in the general direction of the club. It was big, the name was lit up in nice neon and it had class. Bell-boy wouldn't be able to miss it if he wanted to, not that Daniel was keen to invite Bell in. Inviting trouble in at work simply wasn't clever.
You didn't shit where you eat, so to speak.
"Right, take this," he offered up the key to the room. "With some luck, you'll be back before me," Daniel pointed out. "Just be careful. They looked like shit people," he grumbled and started for his room. He'd to sort a few things, the things he'd never gotten around to the other day on account of their little happy seclusion and reconciling.
In Bell-boy's absence, Daniel cleaned up the shit-show that was his sheets and stuffed them into a laundry-machine, then went out to get some edible things to have in the morning, when Bell-boy was around. Might as well cater to the man's hunger; it'd make it far less likely Bell-boy would mess up as majestically as he had the other day.
He stopped himself for a short second. Why the fuck was he so eager to fall back into that role? 'Carer'.
He wasn't a carer. Sure, he cared, but he was Bell-boy's latest fuck. Or ex-boyfriend made boyfriend again. Or whatever.
Shit was confusing.
Daniel was almost happy for the distraction work offered.
Lissa gave him a concerned look, but the evening got busy in the advent of the pending weekend and soon all they talked about was their orders and how to serve people efficiently.
Bell clicked his tongue, disagreeing with Daniel's statement. "I look stupid with long hair, and you know it." Daniel, on the other hand. If only he could get the guy to keep growing it. It'd look super cute pulled back in a tight ponytail. Even a loose one.
He sat back in the chair, eyes closed, and waited for Daniel to finish. The razor was an annoying buzz on his skin, never painful but never pleasant. "Yeah, I realized that a bit late too," Bell muttered back. It was going to suck in a few hours, when all the prickly cut hairs found their way to the most obnoxious places.
"Yeah. How else am I gonna let them know I'm hardcore?" Bell asked mock-indignantly. "Should buy some black clothes, too."
Emo? He didn't want to be with emo. He wanted to be punk. Before he really had time to protest, Daniel was already working the hair gel into his new 'do. "Yeah, you're a great barber," Bell agreed. He stood and hustled over to the bathroom to get a better look. At the sight of himself, he laughed aloud. "Oh man, I look great. Look at that." He tipped his head back and forth to get a better look. "Thanks, man, it looks great."
He popped back out of the bathroom and looked up at Daniel for a kiss. "I'm gonna head out. See you tonight?"
There were people to follow and goats to kill, and time waited for no one. "If you wanna tag along one day, just say the word," he offered. Bell pulled on his jacket and headed for the door. "Probably just be boring today, though." Mostly he planned to wander and search these Immortals back out. Hopefully they'd tagged graffiti or something to make things easier on him. If he had to wander until he ran into one of them again, he'd be at it all day.
"Oh, what's the name of your workplace?" he asked. "In case... well, I don't know. You don't have to say if you don't want." If Daniel didn't want him showing up at his workplace, he'd totally understand. It wasn't like he was a gem of a find or anything. He could stay away if Daniel would rather.
Cook? Shit, the stuff he'd given Bell-boy only needed heating up. Apparently that was too much to ask of Bell-boy's short attention-span because he'd rather eat it cold. Daniel shook his head and approached the stove, found a small pot and poured the rest of the sauce inside. Not too shabby his ass.
What time was it even, that the kitchen was this abandoned, for them to have pasta of all things? Daniel wasn't even sure whether it was stupidly early or ridiculously late. Either way he poured the now heated sauce onto the cooked noodles and sat down to eat, considerably slower than Bell-boy.
As soon as he took the last bite, Bell-boy started demanding he behave like a hairdresser and molest Bell-boy's hair.
"Shame," he mumbled, swallowing the last of the food down. He got up to put the plates in one of the two dishwashers and sighed.
"Come on then," Daniel started, putting out a chair for the man. Might as well cut him here, though Daniel was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to get any of the hairs out of the grime stuck to the floor.
He got out his shaver and put on one of the longer blades. Just like Bell-boy said, Daniel started at the sides. With careless precision, Daniel lobbed off the majority of the hair on each side, leaving a longer strip down the middle. After a blade-switch, he started to trim down the rest of the hair, around Bell-boy's ears and down the man's neck.
"Should've done this before we showered," Daniel pointed out. The amount of hair clinging to Bell-boy's hair was sure to itch eventually. A small scissors cut down the last of the finicky hairs sticking out and then the sides were done. Daniel tugged at the makeshift mohawk.
"You sure you want to keep this?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"If you flip it this way, you're emo," Daniel said with a lopsided grin. Shit. When had it last felt so good just to touch someone? Just to cut someone's hair? Even in this shitty place. Daniel concluded he was pathetically attention-deprived.
"Right," Daniel muttered and got out some of his hair gel. A little artistic measuring later and they had sort of created a hairstyle. "Missed career-opportunity, if you ask me," he chuckled and flicked Bell-boy's hair.
"It's not going to get much better than that, Bell-boy."
Bell shook his head. "Oh right, my bad, my bad." Daniel wouldn't have anything perishable, of course not. That kind of food was too nutritious for Daniel. "Can you cook? I can handle the basics, but..." Boiling pasta was about the limit. Boiling pasta and cooking eggs. Gun to his head, he could probably manage to throw some meat or potatoes in the oven as well. He had a few recipes specific to cooking outdoors saved somewhere in his head, but that kind of thing didn't always translate well to indoor cooking.
It didn't take long for the pasta to cook once it was in the water. Bell sorted through the cabinets again to find a colander, and in a few moments, steaming hot noodles were waiting for them. He considered the sauce, considered the microwave, then shrugged and dumped it on his portion cold. [i Warming it up is too much effort.]
It was another search to find forks, and finally he could sit down beside Daniel at the little table with its crappy plastic chairs. He passed Daniel his share, sauce on the side so Daniel could warm it if he wanted. He gulped down his share. Half the time, he barely chewed the noodles on the way down. Bell glanced at Daniel and grinned. "Not too shabby, huh?"
Everything was so perfect it felt unreal. Here he was, with Daniel, eating a tasty hot meal, on his way to go out and hunt some idiots. Everything was right with the world. It felt impossible. Things never worked out this well for him. But maybe they had. Maybe, for once in his life, things had gone his way.
Bell finished first and watched Daniel eat, eager to get his hair cut and be on his way. Today he'd probably just stalk the men, get a feel for where they hung out, what their territory was, the lay of the land, so to speak. But soon, very soon... his grin grew deeper. There would be a reckoning in the shape of his pipe in their heads.
"You done? Cut my hair," he demanded. "Please." He went and grabbed the trash can and dragged it over. There'd be plenty of hair to throw out when Daniel was done.
A pussy about it? "Oh, no, don't get me wrong, I'd love to mess up your hair, Bell-boy," Daniel said as he dried his own hair a little more. Unlike Bell-boy, he'd had regular visits to a barbershop down town. Part of the gig he had meant he had to keep up appearances. At least the first half of the evening.
Daniel squinted at Bell-boy as if he saw water burn, but then shrugged. Sure. In Bell-boy's world, two decades ago, a jar of hair gel might've been small and easy to steal. He smiled at Bell-boy without bother to correct the man. He felt a little too spent to actually enter a mine-field like that again.
"I usually eat out," he said regarding Bell-boy's comment of him being a stereotype. "Or at work. They've got a pretty decent kitchen and I don't have to share my supplies." This kitchen didn't exactly improve anyone's standings with their neighbours, though he knew some of them really tried.
While Bell-boy scurried out of the kitchen to find his metal murdering tool, Daniel sifted through his shelf of items and procured a bottle of pasta-sauce. He kept around a little something to fall back on, just in case he felt too shitty to go out on a non-work day and too hungry to not eat. That didn't happen very often.
Daniel checked the label on the jar and concluded it was still in date.
He put it down just as Bell-boy was complaining about cheese and butter.
"None of that. They're perishable," Daniel pointed out. Fresh certainly hadn't been on the menu in this shit-hole. The restaurant made decent sandwiches though, not always the freshest ingredients they reserved for customers, but day-old still tasted just as good.
Worry about a shitty old car? It wasn't exactly his place to worry about that, was it now? Daniel sat down on one of the plastic chairs and propped his feet up, watching Bell-boy scurry about. The man seemed happy somehow.
The kind of happy that came with the promise of killing something in a gratifying way soon. He was almost jealous. Bell-boy got to have all the good fun while he catered to man's alcohol addiction.
"I'll see if I can pick up some more food before work," Daniel offered at long last. Might as well.
Bell shook his head. "It's not that hard! You just, buzz down this side..." he moved his hand through his hair, "... then down this side..." the other side, "...and you're done! Easy peasy. I'll do it myself if you're gonna be a pussy about it."
Bell shrugged. He'd figure it out. "Hair gel is pretty easy to steal, y'know? It's so small." He gestured the shape of the little tube. "Kinda like stealing lube, except some places get smart to that and start locking it down." But they never locked down their petroleum jelly. He grinned at that one, a little joke to himself.
He gazed at the cabinet. "Man, I know beggars shouldn't be choosers and all, but that is a lot of carbs." Bread, cereal, pasta... where was the protein? He'd have had canned tuna or something at least. A can of beans. Soup. This was just pathetic. He grabbed the pasta and poked through the cabinets to find someone's pot. "You got any sauce or are we doing this dry? Bachelor-man. You're such a stereotype."
Actually... Bell paused. [i Didn't Daniel have actual lube?] Actual lube and a pantry full of sadness. He'd gone out of his way to get a decent lotion, but couldn't bother to feed himself worth shit. He snorted. [i If that isn't a character portrait of Daniel, I don't know what is.]
"Delivery food'll get you fat," Bell declared, as if their usual diet wasn't entirely restaurant food. Not that getting fat was such a bad thing on the streets, but somehow, that kernel of wisdom had stuck with him all the way from his mother. [i Ben's mother. Whatever.]
He got water started on the range and sighed out. His eyes flicked to Daniel, who was watching him. Before he could comment on that, Daniel spoke.
"What? No, I've got it. It's right..." he patted down his pockets, turned around, then scurried back to Daniel's room. "...right here," he finished, holding up the still-wet leather jacket he'd bought. "Thanks for the reminder, though." It didn't look bloody anymore, just slightly bedraggled. "And don't worry about the car, it was a pile of shit anyways. Mostly just used it for living in, you know?" He grinned at Daniel.
The water started to boil. Bell hurried over and dumped the pasta in. The rest of the box seemed like a good amount. "So... sauces? I'll even take cheese or butter, if that's all you've got," he said.
Maybe he'd help, after the first few. Goats were clever creatures. None of them would stand to be killed unless it had no other choice and they learned fast.
Daniel rinsed off and stepped out. The towel had survived the spray's wetness and Daniel half-heartedly dried off. He still felt drained from helping Bell-boy heal the other night, but it wasn't anything too bad. Some clothes and he was ready to go, towel still slung across his shoulders.
"What do you take me for? A hair-dresser?" he snorted. Yeah, he could do a shave, maybe even a not-so-short shave, but a mohawk? Well, if it failed he could always give Bell-boy a buzz-cut after all.
"You realize how much gel that takes to stick up there?" Daniel said conversationally as they moved towards the kitchen. Most of the cabinets were occupied by other tenants. Daniel opened his appointed cabinet, which was surprisingly empty. There was some stale bread that'd do okay in a toaster or some cereal, not that he'd have milk. Water would do him most of the time.
There was enough to make a quick pasta though.
"Pasta?" he offered. It was a bit weird as a breakfast item, but hey, fuck it. They were both hungry, right?
"Whatever's in this cabinet, honestly," he waved at the sore collection of food-items.
"We can have something delivered? That's what I usually do." Not for breakfast, but screw it. He could make an exception or whatever. They could also go out, but he'd have to let work know he'd be back next shift before they went.
Otherwise it'd seem suspicious.
It was a small world, after all.
Daniel leaned against the kitchen counter and watched Bell-boy move.
"Did they take your pipe along with the car?" he asked suspiciously. If Bell-boy couldn't get the jump on these immortal-blokes, he'd have a problem, huh? They'd looked strong. Even if they weren't goats, a fight with those men was going to be difficult.
He wiped some droplets of hair from his face and pondered what would be best. Finding a new balance to their lives was going to be tricky, huh? His living space was tiny. Fine for one person, but cramped for two. Not as if their car hadn't been cramped, but they'd never had to talk out the shit they'd gone through back then either.
That was true. It was his fault they'd split, not Daniel's. His decision. He shouldn't have been so stupid. The softness in Daniel's eyes, though, the gentleness in his smile, told him that this was the truth. At least for now. There would be awkwardness. There would be bumps in the road. But they were back again. That was all that mattered.
He sighed and nodded. A hand raised to press against Daniel's, and he quietly leaned into the touch. "That's the plan." One by one. He couldn't take them all at once, but they hadn't seemed like special goats. They might even be easy to take down at first, if they thought they were immortal. Might not fight back as hard. At least not until they picked up on the fact that they weren't so immortal, after all.
"I'll try not to," he said. He smiled back. He'd really rather not end up like that again. Probably not drinking so much would help a lot, like Daniel had pointed out. And seeking them out one by one, as opposed to getting jumped by the whole lot all at once.
He made a face at Daniel for messing with his hair, though he really didn't mind that much. Any kind of touch was okay right now. Just so long as he could make contact. "Okay."
Bell dried off as he wandered back to Daniel's room. He pulled out a random set of clothes and got dressed. Water spotted his shirt, and he pulled it out and frowned. [i My hair's too long.]
"Hey, you got time to cut my hair after we eat?" he asked. He'd be able to better get the jump on the gang if he didn't look like the same gross old homeless guy they'd beat up. "Got an electric razor? You can shave it off if you like, give me a mohawk or something." He grinned and held his hair up. It was long enough to actually look cool as a mohawk. "Actually, give me a mohawk. I wanna look cool."
Dressed, he poked around the kitchen in the search of something to eat. There were clusters of different kinds of food. [i Probably each tenant has their own stuff.] "What's your food? What can I eat?" Bell asked, pulling at a box of cereal.
"You blind now too, Bell-boy?" Daniel called Bell out on his shit. 'Glad you're enjoying it', his ass. And then Bell-boy stepped into his arms and hugged him. Daniel waited a breath, but returned the man's affection. Never stopped loving you, huh? Sure.
[i 'You sure you didn't forget?' ]
The thought didn't make it into the world. It wasn't necessary to spew such gal at this moment. They'd both done shit that the other needed to forgive and if they didn't ever think they were even, they were nowhere. Trust truly was the foundation of any relationship.
Uncertainty shimmered in Bell-boy's eyes and Daniel smiled, a genuine smile now, softer maybe than it'd been before. To say nothing had changed would be naive.
"What? No dating?" he joked, but then nodded. "Yeah, yeah... I never wanted to leave you in the first place," Daniel said softly, more vulnerable than he'd been up until then. He pressed the palm of his hand against Bell-boy's cheek and thumbed away some of the water. Despite their misgivings, they belonged together. Daniel was convinced that was the case from the get-go. Ever since he'd seen Bell-boy's ressurection.
Now more than ever, they were connected. Through the goatling, through the goat.
"Are you going to hunt them down one by one?" Daniel suggested. To say he wasn't worried would be pushing it. No, he didn't like it when Bell-boy got hurt. Anger still simmered at the periphery of his thoughts at the memory of them laying waste to Bell-boy. He'd stopped watching after a while. It hadn't been his place to care.
And now it was again, apparently.
"Fuck, you better not get into trouble like that again, Bell-boy," he warned. It'd be a pain to combine a mad dash to go out and help Bell-boy with the job he did. He'd get fired in no time and that was fine, wasn't it? His card would be in sooner rather than later and he'd saved up some money from working. Enough to get around for a while.
Daniel reached up and messed with Bell-boy's hair.
"Let's get cleaned up and eat something," he suggested. He'd need to recoup some of his energy if he was going back to work next shift.
Bell raised his eyebrows at Daniel's confession. [i He was watching me, and did nothing?] A pang went through his chest at that. [i So he hated me that much.] Then why had he taken Bell back so easily? Uncomfortable, Bell turned into the shower's spray. Something felt wrong. Something was terribly wrong about this whole thing. Why heal him if he was willing to let Bell get hurt in the first place? Why not just let him die? And this affection, how much of it was real? Did Daniel really care about him? Or was it just an act?
[i But why?] Daniel had the money. There was no reason for Daniel to fake interest in him. He didn't do anything for Daniel, except--well, wasn't that it, then? He didn't do anything for Daniel. Daniel had no obligation to help him. Even now, Daniel didn't want to help him on this hunt. And that was fine. That was fine, but... He scratched the back of his head. [i How long is this going to last?] It felt tenuous, suddenly, this reunion. It was a miracle that Daniel had taken him back. How long until the spider's thread snapped and he fell back into hell?
Daniel was still talking. He clued back into it and managed a smile much like Daniel's. "Glad you're enjoying it," he said. That was Daniel's world, wasn't it? Civilized. Human. He had no part in it.
Eat. Daniel was trying to help. He was just--he was drawing the lines in the sand. Defining their relationship. Things wouldn't go back to how they were, would they? Bell took a deep breath. But he should expect that. He'd been the one to refuse Daniel. This was all his fault, in the end.
"We're okay," he said. He stepped into Daniel's arms and hugged the man, waited to feel Daniel hug him back. He needed that right now. The simple confirmation that Daniel still cared. "It does. I never stopped loving you. Are you--will you take me back?" He glanced up, uncertain. [i When I leave, will you stay here? Will you regret this? Do you want to stay here, live a normal life?] He couldn't bring himself to ask. For now, he had Daniel. That would have to be enough.
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.