[Please End] Crow Armbrust (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
filetofish) wrote2018-04-27 01:15 am
filetofish) wrote2018-04-27 01:15 amPSLS BECAUSE GAY
[no icons, many SPOILERS for trails of cold steel/sen no kiseki. there's also a lot of gross shit so watch your step.]
filetofish) wrote2018-04-27 01:15 am
no subject
To Crow especially, something feels wrong about it. You don't get that kind of outcome. He decided what he wanted to do, and he did it. He hurt people, because it's what he wanted. He acknowledged that, and he did his best to minimize the fallout, but he didn't regret his actions, and he didn't expect to ever go back to the carefree happiness he'd felt, fleetingly, at Thors. After all, even then, he'd been hurting the people he cared about behind their backs.
It was nice, that Rean never gave up on him. But it didn't really feel deserved. It feels less deserved to have cheated death, to have lost his identity and regained it. To throw away everything, only to see stubborn, impossible Rean Schwarzer hand it back to him without hesitation. What is he even doing here? It's been three months and it still feels like a simulation.
But Crow is Crow, so he's been laughing it off the whole time. Eating junk food, playing games, asking Rean every time he comes home if he had any lewd encounters that day... It's his normal behavior. But he's also been visibly tired, though that happens when you come within an inch of death twice. He wasn't in good shape when they got here, but his smile hasn't faltered the whole time.
He also hasn't addressed the elephant in the room: what the hell is their relationship now anyway? It's not like Crow doesn't know how he feels about Rean. It's Rean he's confused about. It doesn't feel at all likely that those feelings should be returned, and Rean hasn't come out and said they are, but the living situation is starting to feel like a marriage, and it's hard not to notice Rean's gradual invasion of Crow's personal space. At least, not from this end. But he kind of suspects Rean hasn't noticed himself doing it either. Sitting closer, brushing their fingers against eachother when passing the salt -- little things.
Honestly it's a little maddening. But Crow refuses to make the mental leap to the idea that there's something there, despite living in Rean's house, cooking him dinner every day, and the entire thing with having been physically yanked from the edge of oblivion and clung onto like some kind of teddy bear the day Rean brought him back. It's just... domestic bromance? Right. And Rean's thick as a board, so today like always when he comes home from work, Crow's in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on salad and seafood stew, and like always, his greeting is cheerful and cheeky and totally avoiding any of the actual things going through his head.]
Hey, Rean. You look tired. Didn't get down and dirty with the receptionist on your way out, did you?
no subject
One he's setting aside when he comes home to be greeted in a way that's now routine, a familiar tease from the guy he spent the last few years stubbornly pursuing. But now he knows Crow better, he isn't as fooled by the irreverent cheer.
Maybe. He still has a hard time reading Crow some days, and he can't claim to be a mind reader. Rather, he thinks he understands that Crow isn't unhappy, but he's also half acting for Rean's sake, and maybe for his own. He doesn't think there's a point in pushing it, anyway, if this is what Crow needs to feel normal.
Even if it's sometimes frustrating. It feels like distance he doesn't like with someone vitally important to him, but at the same time he keeps coming home and Crow keeps being here to greet him. No matter how frustrated he gets, that alone is enough to lift his heart. Every time he leaves a part of him is always anxious that he'll come back and Crow won't be there.
So even though the greeting makes him roll his eyes and sigh it also makes him smile just a little. Just because it's Crow. And that still amazes him.]
I'm not going to dignify that with a response. Dinner smells great though.
[The second part is said from right behind Crow, Rean suddenly standing behind him, leaning over his shoulder to smell the stew. He's close enough to feel the warmth of Crow's back against his chest but he's not actually technically touching him.]
Fish again, huh?
no subject
[That much is true. Crow's not exactly a gourmand, but he can cook what's familiar. Of course he's trying to improve and branch out now, but he's not going to actually bring that up in case it looks like he's trying too hard. It's just... As much as he loves being able to be as lazy as he wants, he's keenly aware he's not really doing anything to pay Rean back for risking so much to chase him down and save him from himself, over and over. So if he can't do anything but play house
wifemaid, he'll just have to get better at it until it's adequate, without ever letting on that he's making an effort.He's also trying not to let on that Rean is too fuckin close. That warmth at his back sends blood rushing to Crow's face (and elsewhere), but he hides the reaction by laughing maybe a little louder than necessary. Which is how he's been handling these things in general. The closer Rean gets, the more Crow wants to lean into it, and the harder he has to deflect. This time, by playfully elbowing Rean in the ribs as he laughs, and turning to get dishes out of the cabinet.]
Don't fall in the pot, now. I'm not eating "Rean bisque" for dinner. That's just gross.
no subject
[He wasn't complaining. Crow cooks fish well. Which is convenient because Rean still likes to catch fish. He mutters an "ow" when elbowed, stepping back to give Crow domain over the kitchen again.
He likes being close to Crow, not that he thinks about it much. He doesn't think about being elbowed and laughed at either, because he's kind of dumb even still.]
I won't mess up your cooking, I promise.
[But there are things he had been thinking about. Like how it's been three months and Crow hasn't once mentioned what he wants to do with his life now. Rean doesn't mind if Crow wants to live here and cook for him forever, honestly. Selfishly he'd really like that, but he didn't drag Crow back into his life so Crow could get away with not pursuing new dreams, and he's starting to worry.
He'll bring it up after dinner, maybe. Because his stomach decides to growl, loudly.]
Sounds like a terrible recipe. Let's stick to fish.
no subject
[Rean complimenting him so genuinely makes Crow's heart twist. What a bittersweet feeling... He wants to hear it more. Not just about his cooking, but about everything. He wants Rean to praise him. He wants Rean's attention on him. But it feels undeserved, and childish to want it. He's an adult. A terrorist and a fighter to boot. That kind of fluttery desire is stupid, so he's glad Rean's stomach growling allows him to derail himself.
Don't mind Crow here having a gay crisis while handing Rean his food.]
I dunno about you, but I'm eating on the couch.
no subject
It's nice, being like this. He really can't get over how it doesn't seem quiet real, having Crow back. He hasn't considered or noticed it, but it's definitely part of his drive to be closer, close enough to touch now and then, affirming reality, that this isn't a dream.]
This is really good.
[Another compliment, sincerely meant, as he devours dinner sitting next to the guy he wasn't sure he'd even see again, sometimes.]
You could probably start a restaurant with recipes like this.
no subject
[A restaurant, huh? Now isn't that a weird idea. He can't even imagine it, and in response he just laughs, like it was a joke.]
Seriously? Can you really picture me putting in that much effort?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Phone account switching is hell
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
no subject
It's also pretty necessary, because there's a lot of them. And because the technology to make them was not just normally developed but found, in a strange dimensional rift that appeared one day and started spewing digital monstrosities. While humans are perfectly capable of destroying the machinery that comes out, going in is other thing entirely. For that, you need something made of the same materials. Thus, the androids, created from the scraps of the living machines that have been coming into the real world for a good thirty years now.
Inside the rift is a whole nother world, full of surreal scenery and advanced technology that humans can barely understand. They're still exploring it, slowly, trying to figure out what actually is ordering the seemingly thoughtless monsters to attack. There's a human settlement there now, but every human is linked to an android, via a brain implant that allows telepathy, and for humans to survive in a world where normal technology becomes inert on entry. It's weird, too -- not just electronics but mechanical things just seem to stop. Guns jam, wires short, anything that isn't made from the materials and powered with the crystals from the other world becomes useless immediately. Humans without an implant quickly sicken and die, too.
So they're reliant on re-purposed weapons, and on links with artificial humans, to convince this other world they're not foreign bodies to destroy. And Crow is one such artificial human. Recently, his partner was killed in an incident, so he's not sure he's ready to trust the new kid they're shoving at him.
C'mon, man. This "Rean" is only 20. Nevermind that Vita was also 20 when they met, and that means Crow is currently 7 years old, and designed to look and behave like someone in his early 20s himself. It's not really fair to dismiss the new guy, but he's doing it anyway. This is what humans call grief. Crow calls it self-preservation. But he's here anyway, walking into the office where his new partner has been left waiting for him for the last half hour. The implant hasn't been switched on yet, but Rean's probably feeling a little residual soreness around the tiny cut they used to put it in.
They haven't met before. Crow doesn't really want to meet. But when he walks in and their eyes meet there's just something about Rean's face that makes him curious. He sits on the table, rather than the opposite chair, and swings one leg over Rean so he's sitting directly in front of him, with his chest as Rean's eye level.]
Heya, new kid.
no subject
That, and he wants to know more about himself, why he has some mysterious and dangerous abilities that he can't control, what his background is. Maybe this won't answer those questions, but it will let him forge forward in finding answers for who to be himself, even if he never learns about his past.
So here he is. A little eager, a little nervous. He's had android friends, it doesn't really mean much to him whether someone is organic or synthetic, but the idea that soon he's going to be telepathically connected to a stranger is enough to make anyone a bit anxious. But he's optimistic, and when Crow sits in front of him, irreverently, he smiles.]
Hey. Nice to finally meet you.
no subject
["Nice to meet you" is not happening. Crow's still not sure he's into the idea. But he's not going to be a huge asshole about it -- yet. It'll be harder when the implant turns on. They won't immediately hear every thought. It takes deliberate effort to "send" a thought along, but it's really hard to do that dishonestly. You can't think one thing and send another. If you're sending, you're sending everything at that time.
So he'll be a jerk when that happens, most likely. But at least he can be halfway charming to start.]
You're cuter than I expected.
no subject
Uh... Thanks? You're not quite what I was expecting either.
no subject
[He's also leaning in close, just in response to the blush. This is fun, and absolutely sort of hazing.]
no subject
[He doesn't lean away but he's clearly not used to having his space invaded. Still, he's meeting Crow's eyes directly, if rather puzzled about this hazing ritual.]
Less flirty, probably.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
He can't know how long it's been, but he's woken up in a basement medical facility somewhere, in a room that would seem like a nice hospital room (comfy bed, tiny bathroom, two uncomfortable-looking chairs), except that the walls and floor are immaculate, undecorated white tile, there are no windows, and door is heavy and very, very locked, with only a tiny window slot. Off in the distance there are faint voices, some speaking, some shouting, some making terrible wordless noises, all muffled by the thick walls and door until they're just a din of horrific sound. Rean's clothes have been replaced by basic scrubs, and there's some kind of small flat disc stuck to the skin of his chest that won't come off. It has a tiny green glowing light on it.
There's no one else there. Rean can explore to his heart's content, but there's no way for him to get out.]
no subject
But while he spends time prying at the disc it doesn't come off, and he gives up in favor of exploring the small space. Ways out all see m to be... The door. That's it. Not promising.
He's alarmed, unnerved by the distant voices, the fact that he's been undressed and something attached to him while he was unconscious, it's all unpleasant, but aside from that his spirits are still strong, he'll get out, he's sure. Splashing his face with water he goes to try and figure out how to escape through the door. It's a shame Emma isn't here to open the lock.]
no subject
You're awake, then.
[The orderlies move in, to grab Rean, drag him to the bed, and hold him down.]
no subject
Crow what is this?
no subject
[Duh. No one in the alliance really believed he ever would. Crow looks totally bored with it though. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else -- and he would. But he's not bored. He's just suppressing the guilt and frustration he's feeling, knowing he has no choice but to hurt Rean if he wants to continue on the path he's chosen.]
But if you don't, you're going to be a real pain. So we'll just make you want to.
[Crow takes a small box out of his jacket pocket and opens it, revealing a few syringes of a red liquid. He selects one, and calmly strides over to Rean.]
Hold him still.
[The orderlies are obedient, and Rean's held fast while Crow injects him in the forearm with a drug that brings on a powerful high -- utter euphoria, mental and physical pleasure that will leave Rean floating in a haze where his thoughts and memories feel distant.]
no subject
No one needs to hold him down after ten minutes, he's pretty much placid and docile, in a totally good mood but also flushed and a bit confused about it, but not really bothered by that.
It's really the best he's felt in his life.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Using this post til I'm forced to stop
Rean, specifically, has ended up in a high-end but highly shady brothel. Not that he's been told that yet. He's only heard orders ("move", "be quiet", "don't ask questions"). But he was carted off to a medical facility and put under anaesthesia and now he's waking up in a gaudy bedroom with a big barred window, a headache, and a tall, lean man with hair going grey at the temples standing over him.]
Get up, boy.
no subject
He's thought about being trouble though. Even now with his head killing him he glances the man up and down and wonders if he could take him down and escape now. It's a thought that hasn't stopped crossing his mind since the first day of his captivity and yet he isn't doing it.
Instead he sits up, rubbing his head, hissing a little at the pain but not complaining as he gets up. The bedroom is... A bit much. Is this where this guy lives? And what the hell did they do to him in that hospital?]
no subject
[The man looks quite short on patience. A screen hovers nearby, and he's watching that more intently than he is Rean, typing away at the keyboard.]
no subject
[It's you know, not a defensive or unfriendly question, he's trying to be calm even with his head pounding and his general confusion.]
no subject
[Though he sounds disinterested in the prospect of conversation. Once he's input Rean's information, he turns to give him a coldly calculating look. He seems to look right through Rean, studying him top to bottom like there's not a single thing to hide.]
Stand there and undress.
[He gestures to a spot right in the middle of the floor. Rean could refuse -- but actually he can't because if he doesn't comply his body will move on it's own.]
no subject
What?
[Is what he says, intending to stand still but finding himself moving to stand where told and even more alarmingly starting to take his clothes off.]
What?!
[He questions again, feeling rising and abrupt panic as his body moves utterly out of his own control. His eyes are wide and he's understandably upset and scared. On top of all that's happened in his life that he's been trying not to be outwardly upset by for several weeks it has him hyperventilating almost immediately.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...