deercountry | Few Regrets (Open)

Entry tags:

Few Regrets (Open)

Who: Reaper (

no_reload) & Open
What: Post-death recovery & November catch-all
When: Month of November
Where: In & Around Disaster House

Content Warnings: Will add as they come up.

I. Squid Games

The remains of his body had fully inked and become crystallized. Then the smoke filled crystals cracked, shattered and broke apart to reveal a palm-sized squid that shook off bits of crystal and remaining ink. The black bloody ink did begin to resorb into the squid which seemed momentarily disoriented.

Then it lifted four tentacles and gave a soft hissing squeak to whomever happened to be close by. Another squeak and wiggling tentacles that clearly meant to be indication for picking up.

While he couldn’t communicate with words, Reaper was small enough and determined enough to be close to anyone. He would attempt to cling to feet or legs, and sometimes that meant the risk of getting under foot.

At other times, he would somehow clamber onto raised parts of furniture whether it was a table leg, couch arm or even a shoe and lift two tentacles to the air and wait for someone to pass by before trying to attach himself for a free ride to leg or hand.

II. Bedrest

Since leaving the squid state, Reaper had had a hell of a time adjusting back to his body. He had mostly confined himself to his bedroom, a place he hardly used as anything other than storage previously. Now he was there most of the time, sequestered to the bed as he didn’t have the available energy yet to perform his usual household activities.

After all, breathing was a laboured effort; that’s probably what was supposed to happen when one’s lungs had been vaporized. He could be found in his bedroom, sitting up to make breathing easier and clad in black track pants and a oversized black hoodie where the hood was constantly pulled up over his head, obscuring his bare and scarred face with shadow. The white of his goatee was the most obvious aspect of him to be seen.

"…death has always provided a reset, but you haven’t invested time to knowing how blood effects your abilities either. That was stupid of you…"

Reaper grunted softly as if replying to the scolding and exasperated Irish female voice that happened to be coming from a small laptop-sized device next to him on his bed. His bare hand with its blackened dead looking fingers reached out and patted the device as if he were trying to pat the Irish voice on the shoulder.

"I have this pain again." His voice was strained, nearly breathless.

"Expected. You died, Reyes. You will cope as you did before," the voice said with a touch of exasperation.

"Analysis on point, as always," he remarked with a soft nearly whimsical sigh that turned to a wheeze.

The voice was quiet, a reminder that the person behind it wasn’t actually here in Trench. That old friend had returned to their world and had never returned. He turned the medical device off with press of a button and leaned his head back against the headboard, shifting his weight as if unable to find a comfortable spot to sit in.

Then his chin tipped his head down again. "I know you’re out there."

III. Slow and Steady

Thankfully, the month so far had seemed calm and with little to no effects. He was slow to move around the house, less willing to take up some of his normal activities. He technically was the only adult in the house and that came with certain responsibilities he hadn’t been able to get back into. For one, he tired far too easily, like he was far older than he actually was. Or maybe this was how those of the SEP went out… tired, alone and shuffling around.

He spent much of his time in the house, but sometimes he wanted a chance of scenery. He was ease his way out of the house and seat himself on the ground or on a step. If he was having a particularly good day, he could get himself up to one of the edges of roof and seat himself there, legs dangling.

As soon as he went outside, his Omen, Wraith, would immediately appear. The black peacock would make a show of preening and walking around, shuffling long detailed tail feathers and issuing a low mournful swan song that was not normal for peacocks. Always, the Omen would be on high alert, never staying particularly close to him but clearly on guard to anyone who might know what to look for.

"Careful, his bite is as pathetic as his bark," he rumbled softly to anyone that might stop by to have a look or even appear from the house.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Maul came in, still looking a bit exhausted despite the rest he'd gotten. Fighting for three days had taken quite a bit out of him. It had been a long while since he'd fought for that long but he'd had pretty good motivation to keep going until he was so exhausted he couldn't even lift up his lightsaber or throw one more thing at Lance with the Force. He'd been staying at the disaster house since, sleeping the days away as he waited for Reaper to turn back from being a squid into a (mostly) human being again.

Once that happened, he made a beeline for his lover's room. He came up to the bed, assessing his condition. There was concern in his voice but it was almost a bit too sweet and saccharine, a faux tone nature to it. "You look terrible and you sound even worse. Does everything hurt?"

He leaned in like he was going to kiss Reaper and instead punched the man hard on the jaw, not even caring that would activate his curse. He'd gotten through the fight with Lance by mainly just focusing on his grief and rage to ignore any of the pain that had activated from trying to kill the man but now that was done and over with, so it was back to his usual state of being. "That is for being stupid and selfish and leaving me all alone!" He roared out, feeling pain himself at his own actions. "Don't you EVER do that to me again or I'll kill you again myself!" This was the only way Maul really knew how to show how scared he'd been, the terrible grief that had pierced through his two hearts with Reaper's death, knowing how much he'd come to rely on the older man and that he now considered him to be his mate.

With his fury subsiding, he sat down on the edge of the bed breathing a little harder than normal, waiting to see what Reaper was going to say in response before he did anything else.

Maul looked tired, Reaper thought as the Zabrak entered his room. A small part of him was surprised that his lover was even allowed in the Disaster House, given the long and complicated history with some of the residents. He had made certain that he met with Maul off site, but apparently some of those matters were resolved now if Maul was here lurking about looking a paler shade of red.

His head tipped up so he could keep Maul in his sights, red eyes with a faint glow peering out from under his hood. For one, he didn't believe for a second Maul's tone, but he also simply folded his blackened dead looking fingers together and waited. The strike came without a single attempt to defend himself, and it snapped his head to the side and knocked him partially over from where he had been in sitting position. He still managed to catch himself on an elbow to prevent himself from completely toppling over. A sharp throbbing pain radiated from the point of contact.

He breathed hard as he slowly righted himself back to his seated position, lifting one hand to rub at his jaw and then reaching with the other to curl loosely around Maul's midsection. He seemed to creak and issued a low groan for the effort of leaning forward so he could rest his assaulted cheek on Maul's shoulder. "Death is humiliating in this place. Six out of ten, wouldn't recommend unless you like being a squid."

Maul was tempted to hit Reaper again but he knew it wouldn't do any good, not helping to assuage his feelings of rage and hurt any less. Besides, Reaper still seemed to already be in a lot of pain given all that he had been through, so Maul's temper began to fizzle out.

The physical contact helped immensely as Reaper curled up beside him. He closed his eyes for a moment at the feeling of having his mate back by his side. "I don't plan on making it a habit. Three and a half times was enough for me." He counted getting sliced by Kenobi as the half given how close of a call that one had been. Anyone besides Maul would have been dead from it and he'd still come within an inch of death.

Then he opened his eyes back up and poked Reaper hard on the back of one of his hands with a claw. "Don't you make it a habit either. I can only tear down so many sections of this city down in pursuit of revenge before there won't be much left." Then he leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. "I'm still quite vexed that idiot was still standing despite my best efforts to kill him again."

Maul acting out against him and others was something he had come to accept as part of life with the Zabrak. He personally had always found it endearing on some level, the ability to just lash out based on emotions when he always had to be thinking of a plan, carrying it out to gather specific information or complete a particular task. The impulsiveness that Maul usually displayed was exciting, even when it was directed at him.

"Agreed," he remarked roughly, issuing a cough soon after. "But some missteps can happen to even the best of us, and I need you to be careful." While actually feeling like he had died for once was great, it was so short-lived it returned to him the sensation of his curse creeping back on him. "You would be an adorable little squid though. It's hard to make squid people repulsive."

He grunted in discomfort at the poke, tightening his arm around Maul's waist and lifting his head from where it was on the Zabrak's shoulder. Dark bruising was already blossoming on his cheek where Maul had punched him. "I heard you went off your nut in a quest for revenge for me. You understand that's both endearing and unnecessary? I wouldn't leave you for too long." His eyes closed at the kiss, and that close, he was certain Maul could hear the wheeze to his lungs and throat. "I usually go for killing their friends and family personally, but it's not necessary. My death was my own fault."

II

Dramatic af, Maul

Always and forever

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Squid Games it is (I)

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II

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