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.

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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.

It's not uncommon for Illarion to drift by the disaster house, seeing as it was a distinctive landmark for his self-assigned patrol route through Cassandra--and seeing as he felt at least a little friendly concern for one of the residents. He's used to Varian's odds and ends being strewn around the exterior of the place, but a peacock also patrolling the perimeter is a new one on him.

It's enough of a novelty he stops the instant he hears and ((spots)) the bird, listening to its calls with an expression of bemused delight. Then--for the hell of it--he ruffles up his own feathers (too bad they're invisible to most anything, though he hunches his shoulders and tosses his head as he does) and does a very credible imitation of a rival peacock's trilling cry.

Like one does, with one's extremely distant genetic relations.

It's only after he's, uh, peacocked he notices the bird's not alone and further, came with a warning. Or disclaimer, as the case might be; and he has to chuckle quietly at that.

"I do not know--I am sure he can be quite fierce with his spurs, if moved to use them. He is yours?"

Edited 2021-11-03 08:57 (UTC)

Look, it may be true that Reaper is the only adult in the house, but there was one other fact too: there was a definite mom in the house, and that distinction happened to be on Miss Luz Noceda, who had happily taken on the mantle. She was been wary of the idea of one of her boys dying, it had just been a matter of time.

As it turned out, it happened to the person she had the least interaction with, but this changed nothing.

The moment she saw the squid clinging to the furniture, she sighed and immediately picked it up, settling it on her shoulder. Owlbert, on the other shoulder, appeared to be scandalized.

"If you have another suggestion, I'd really like to hear it," Luz said to Owlbert, who was giving her the stink eye. "I wasn't exactly prepared for squid sitting. Yet."

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."

Wraith's head turned at the rival's call, assessing the situation with a keen eye and fluttering wings to find a new perch on a fence post to stare balefully at the interloper. His spurs were longer and sharper than strictly necessary for a peacock and there was an occasional wisp of black smoke to lift from him. Clearly unimpressed.

Reaper's legs still from where they had been gently kicking from dangling off the roof edge. This was a being he couldn't say that he had the pleasure of coming into contact with in the past. Now that he had time and was stuck in and around the house more than usual, he supposed it was about time to familiarize himself with those that might take an interest in the place and occupants more than usual.

"Oh, I have no doubt if he has the inclination he'd kill most living things," he remarked, nodding at Wraith who was now walking along the fence to bridge the distance between himself and the rival 'peacock'. "My Omen, yes." More importantly, "do you live around here or out for a stroll?"

Reaper-squid clicked beak in approval and tentacles reached out to find anything and everything within reach to cling to. While he was normally cold like a corpse, death apparently turned that on its head and he emitted a warmth that was far above what would be considered normal body temperature for a human, let alone a squid. Right now, priorities involved hitching a ride anywhere in the house.

A little adorable hissy squeak came out as beady little eyes noted the rival for attentions. One tentacle pulled back to point at eyes then point at Owlbert, stink eye or no. Reaper-squid wasn't afraid of death, which might have been a future problem to contend with.

Hearing the commotion coming out of the unknown house, Umlingo approaches. His movements are staggered and the Wood Elf's head appears that of a child. His transformation was faulted in regards to the age proportions of his head to the rest of his body.

Fluttering next to him is his pet Imp. Impy sniffs the air towards the house, unsure of whether or not it would be favorable. After all, him and his tall friend had poor luck since traveling from the black sands.

Umlingo reaches the door then collapses. With difficulty he remarks;

"So, there's more of...them?"

He points to the squid with a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

Vira-Lorr was already in the vicinity of the beaches as is. Why? Because she still had that desperate desire to see certain people show up. Perhaps that would fade in time, or maybe it would become a tradition for a few days every month to make sure that someone was there for the newcomers. Regardless? It was coming in handy today.

Why? Because she was leaning down to look at this little squid, giving it a poke and grinning. "Well, aren't you cute little squid? I wonder what your name is," she said before reaching down to take a small bowl with some water for the squid to rest in. "Well, if you're going to take your dear sweet time turning back into yourself, we can at least make you comfortable, mmmm?"

Did she know it was him? Now that was a question wasn't it? Because Lance and Maul had certainly made QUITE the scene hadn't they?

At some point during Reaper's...squidness, Varian had definitely put together a little rig for him to get around better in. Which...wasn't ideal, but it was the best they could do while they waited for the man to reform. He was glad when that finally happened. They're still working with so many unknowns here. They don't know for use if the death process will be the same, or the length of time it will take for them to come back, or even if there's ultimately a cost for returning like there was in the Dream. That they just hadn't worked it out yet.

He waits for Maul to be done with Reaper first- he's not prepared to intrude in that. He doesn't even want to think about what they'd get up to- that's the stuff of nightmares right there. But eventually, he takes an opportunity while Reaper is alone to slip into his room- his features marred with a mixture of worry, relief and...something else.

"Welcome back to not being dead," as snarkily as it comes out, he really does mean it- besides, Reaper wouldn't appreciate so much sentiment right off the bat. "...How do you feel? Any side effects?"

Owlbert appeared provoked, but one look from Luz and the Palisman appeared to sigh to himself, shaking his head, and then he flew off Luz's shoulder in front of her. A moment later he was still and elongated into Eda's staff, which Luz gratefully caught.

Looks like he opted to stay a staff while his favorite spot was being occupied.

"How did you even get roped into the arena fight anyway?" Luz said to the squid, even though it was obvious the squid couldn't answer back. "Not how you got there, I KNOW how that happened. I mean, considering what happens there, why the heck would you remind Lance about something that traumatic?"

Before anything else could happen though, Luz hears something thud right outside the door, and she hurried over to see what the commotion was about, staff in her hand.

She looked down and saw...a pretty curious looking guy, with a child's head but an adult body.

Luz is trying to understand how he looks the way he does when she hears his question.

"Huh? Oh! No, he died. He's just recovering until his body reforms again."

She says this way too cavalier.

"Who are you, by the way?"

[Luca, seeing the little squid raising its arms and wriggling them, stopped and scooped Reaper up. Sure, he has a bunch of questions to ask him when he's back to being himself, a bunch of confused thoughts he had to sort out, but right now? Right now, Reaper is an adorable little squid, so he's not going to think about that. He's just going to focus on how they have an adorable little pet that will become a person later.]

Poor little guy, I'm sure being stuck on dry land probably feels pretty bad, doesn't it? Want me to take you out to the ocean?

The Elf blinks his eyes into focus. Umlingo hasn't run into other beings since his appearance in this strange world. Well, except for Impy, but the little devil can't speak.

Speak

"I'm... Umlingo."

At this moment, he doesn't recall sociable behavior. Yet, with a nudge from his imp, the Elf realizes that he should ask the same:

"And you are?"

Reaper-squid goggled at Vira-Lorr, tentacles reaching still even as he squeaked adorably. He willingly nestled into the water, needing to rest when on land for so long. Thankfully memories weren't stolen like in Deerington, so Reaper-squid knew that she was trustworthy.

He swam to the edge of the bowl, little tentacles reaching over the edge. One reached further to curl around a finger that was holding the bowl and Reaper-squid issued another growling squeak. A curl a smoke lifted and reached towards Vira, but the wind caught it and forced it to drift away.

Reaper's words bring a smile to Illarion's face; grim subject, sure, but a vicious guard peacock feels a little like home. Shrikes didn't often keep them--most of the best lines went to the wood elves during the schism--but they're still familiar. "Good! You have a sturdy protector here."

One he will not provoke any further, though he nods in the bird's (rough) direction as it gets closer to him. Much respect, fellow avian.

"I study with the Disciples, so I am often in Cassandra. Varian, he is an acquaintance of mine and has helped me before, so I come to check on the house now and then." In other words, he knows exactly how suspicious his interest might look, especially if he's been spotted doing this before. No harm in giving the whole truth of the matter.

"You live here?"

The rig had definitely been useful, and he had only begun to learn how to get around when he had made the transition from squid to human. He would be keeping the rig around though, expecting that this wouldn't be his last death in Trench. After all, if anyone had to learn the limitations of death, it may as well be him what with his history surrounding it. Costs were a necessary risk to learn about.

He'd convinced Maul that looming over him while having not eaten much would make the both of them tired and cranky. It was best that the Zabrak step away to be sustained before returning to hover at him. That would take getting used to.

He watched as Varian made an appearance to his room, perhaps just to look at it given he almost never used it as anything but storage before this. His red eyes watched the young man, mulling over the range of expressions from under the shadow of his hood.

At the snark, his lips pulled into a grin, and he breathed hard from between clenched teeth so curls of black smoke drifted up. "Death is just another stepping off point," he replied sagely. "Many side-effects," he breathed out. "Want to take notes?"

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."

"Umlingo! That's a new one! Ok! Nice to meet you Umlingo! I'm Luz, Luz Noceda!"

She gestured to the squid, who seemed to be slowly taking this all in.

"Want to give me a hand with this little guy?"

[Reaper-squid was familiar with the occupants of the house, even if his interactions were minimal at best. He always made a point of including the thought of everyone when it came to preparing meals. There would always be enough for any and all occupants, and of course he had stalked them - just a little - in the house to be aware of them.

Another squeak at being picked up and he sort of deflated now that he had gotten what he wanted, snuggling down into Luca's hands because it was far safer than being on the ground where anyone could step on him.

At the question, he didn't have a neck to nod a head so he used tentacles to communicate the act of walking and then swimming. So yes, he'd like to go to the ocean, not certain what the effects would be compared to coming out of it last time.]

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."

"Yes, and as unkillable as I am apparently," he remarked roughly before he was reduced to coughing. It shook his shoulders, but that was the cost of death for him currently. It was already getting better the more time that passed.

Wraith slowed that walk, shaking tail feathers with faint threat, but seemed appeased by the respect. It was, as the Omen would consider, deserved.

"Ah Varian, yes." That boy knew many people despite acting like a hermit in the house much of the time. Science found a way and all that nonsense. "He's probably in the basement if you want to check on what he's working on, but otherwise, patrol away." Reaper was used to suspicious, and even now, he wouldn't hesitate to remove a potential threat to those he decided to guard. Kids had been through a lot already.

"I exist here, yes," he said because he had to be dramatic. That was just his way. "I'm the human-version of guard peacock here."

That's a wise move on Reaper's part. As much as Varian wouldn't wish death on anyone in the house, having something in place to help with the process is probably...wise. If living in Deerington had taught him anything, it was that death could happen at any time. it made sense to be prepared.

He's been so deeply worried about Reaper. He has a lot of questions about what Lance was ranting about too, but that can wait until Reaper is feeling more...himself. No need to interrogate him until he's pulled himself back together properly. Still, he knows being overly sentimental won't go down well, either. Not Reaper's style. It eyes the smoke for a moment, before huffing softly.

"Maybe. A little," he frowns. "I'm still trying to work out if there's a cost to resurrection here like there was in the dream."

Fern has been hovering in the hallway, unsure if he should leave and come back later or just barge in. While he isn't exactly one for manners, he's not completely stupid. Someone having just come back from the dead might need a little time to themselves and their computerfriend, or whatever.

So he jumps a little when Reaper speaks up a bit and, still not totally sure what the right thing to do is, pokes his head in. "Heyyyy," he says, trying and failing miserably at not sounding awkward. He steps on into the bedroom, a bowl in his hands that's radiating heat. He holds it up helpfully. "I brought you soup? If you even eat soup...."

Glob, he doesn't know. Maybe Reaper is soup-averse. He really should have figured this out before making it.

Reaper had lost a fear of death a long time ago, so he had always expected it would be an inevitability here in this place. He apparently had decided to waste no time about it, what with coming here for two months. It felt like his first venture in Deerington too. At least he could be confident that he was a man of habit.

Besides, he would rather death strike him before any of the young ones. Maybe it would make them more cautious, but more than that, they could be confident of the process that involved coming back. After all, he had already volunteered for Varian to do research on him when it came to death.

"This isn't death flu," he murmured slowly. "It's like..." he trailed off to consider his words carefully, "...trying to acclimatize to a body. Similar to when we emerged from the waves as squid the first time. There's more disorientation, like my lungs don't yet feel fully right." And those particular organs had been vaporized for his death.

[Satisfied that yes, Reaper did in fact want to go swimming, Luca headed toward the door.]

Come on, then.

[As if Reaper was going to do anything else while Luca carried him. Fortunately, while the beach was far away, the nearest lamp friend was not, and Luca had put his own by the beach for easy access. It's not long before Luca goes outside and, reaching the nearest lamp, brings them both to the beach. Then, because Luca doesn't even bother changing to swim, he just races down to the water, bright green scales racing up his legs once he reaches it.]

The corner of his lips twitched in amusement when Fern appeared and seemed overly awkward. Was that because it might be unfair to attack a half-dead man? Likely not. His eyes dropped from Fern's face to the steaming bowl. He hadn't actually tried to eat anything since he had returned, though he swore as a squid he had tried to eat an insect.

He also made a point of never eating in front of other people, since it involved removing his mask. It was a habit he upkept rather strictly in the house where he lived, though he knew for a fact that Fern had probably seen his bare face in one of his many naked wanderings back in Deerington.

"Ah, soup," he said with a breathy growl. "What kind of soup did you labour to make, hmm?" He gestured with a hand for Fern to come into his sparsely furnished room.

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Few Regrets (Open)

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Squid Games it is (I)

Dramatic af, Maul

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Always and forever

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