[open] bad doggie!

[torpour]

Who: Nehan + OPEN (one thread closed to specific people)
What: Someone (Nehan) died before someone's (Nehan's...) birthday, and not of fun. Featuring the aftermath of said death, an angry squid, and a doctor who's bad at taking care of himself.
When: forward-dated to Jan. 19 and later
Where: Primarily in Nehan's house, but the death thread is set in the wilderness.

Content Warnings: Violence, beasthood, death, paleblood powers, traumatic memories of near-death experiences, some nudity, Nehan-typical self-loathing, mentions of sex, Jan. TDM-style body horror. More TBA as they come up.

---

a: squid time

[nehan's tub is modest by human standards. large for a man of his (usual) size, but massive for a little squid, almost transparent save for its rainbow-colored insides, the most prominent of which is sunshine-yellow. the squid is absolutely tiny, no bigger than an adult human's hand.

there's a grab bar attached to the wall next to the tub, and the edge of the tub opposite it, clearly for nehan's use when he's an erune, because what will a squid do with those? he cant even reach them. though he's definitely trying, swimming back and forth, and occasionally reaching out with a little tentacle in an attempt to reach it.

but of course, he cant reach it, and that frustrates the squid enough that he jets out a little bit of dark ink. literally farting in anger, this one is.]

b: cant sleep (cw: really morbid jokes)

[the evening after nehan's squid was retrieved from the water and returned to his house, he returns to normal. annoyed as he rises from inky water and having to clean himself, but still, he's a skinny, scarred erune again, without the additions he gained over the past months. an erune that needs a long, long nap, and will head straight to his bed to have said long nap without even drying his hair.

if anyone chooses to stay longer and keep vigil over the once-squid... well, no one is stopping you, not even the omen, who is guarding the door to the basement underneath the stairs, and will not move away.

nehan might not be too much of a host however, when he's bedridden, having gone through a traumatic death and unable to control his limbs well. every time his left arm or leg has a spasm, his expression twists into one of chagrin and irritation, and he clutches at the limb until it stops. he tries to lay under his bedding just to lessen it... but well. that doesn't work as well as he hoped, and it's not proper medical procedure, but when it comes to himself, nehan has never cared a goddamn bit. still...]

... Stay a little longer. Without anything to do, I'll have another death soon, and this time of boredom. [that was a joke. but it's bad and he knows it's bad.]

c: winter mourning's last hurrah (nehan's memories/cw: eventual near-death experience)

[there is a winter mourning in nehan's house, a wreath laying in the seat of an armchair in the living room, and despite looking innocent, it is still active. and if it's touched, instead of dragging some poor unsuspecting bastard into a dream, it drags them into a memory.

the nehan in this memory is an adult, just like the one in bed, recovering from his violent bout with death-- but he's also different. seemingly younger, more filled-out, less scraggly hair, and lacking in the eyepatch and crutch that has become nehan's signature. but his ears have much less fur on them and are tattered at the ends, the shadows under his eyes are darker, and he's sporting fresh bruises on his face, like he's just been in a brawl. or more than just a brawl-- he looks like he's been beaten within an inch of his life.

still, he's walking amongst a crowd that doesn't seem to notice him, in a crowded marketplace in a bustling town with airships flying high above them. he looks like he knows where he's going, and behind him... behind him is another nehan, walking much slower, bearing a crutch and an eyepatch-- the nehan most people know, by now.

he pauses when he notes he's not alone, turning around and ears twitching, then tilts his head towards his younger self as if to say come along.]

d: the days after: achelliac (cw: nudity, self-loathing)

[achelliac's usual clientele may be sailors, but at least they don't turn nehan away. and, as he finds out, some of his fellow customers are fascinated enough with him that he just decides to indulge them with what they want. even if he's here just to deal with the aches of his body that still linger after his rebirth. at least he's no longer suffering from muscle spasms.

the hot springs will deal with what other aches he gets in this place, in any case, that's why he's here-- get himself up to snuff so he can get back to work without problems.

making his way to the pool from the showers is always an adventure in going slow to accommodate his too-thin, too-scarred body and not slipping, just because he leaves his cane with his clothes (he needs a new crutch, a cane just isn't the same...). though he's right at the edge of the pool, he pauses when he sees another man there already.]

May I, or do you prefer privacy? [perhaps he should have asked that before he got naked...]

wildcard
[[ hit me with your best shot-- everything is a-ok and will match prose or action, but the actual boss battle is restricted to certain characters. nehan dies on the 19th, revives as a squid on the 22nd and is returned to his house on the same day, while his headcanon birthday is on the 20th. thanks to #justpalebloodthings, nehan can admit that his birthday is coming up to any palebloods. he is also a paleblood, so people can speak to him more freely as well.

people are free to come and go as they like. snooping is encouraged, but the basement is guarded by nehan's omen. i'm also open to changing the memory in prompt c. if we haven't threaded yet, we can just handwave the first meeting and nehan giving out his address. if you're unsure, just ask! ]]

Comments

[torpour]

[unbeknownst to him, nehan's hands are bunched into his thick covers, as if holding onto an animal instead. but his omen is downstairs, keeping guard over the basement door, and not in nehan's lap where he's wanted. not that nehan would ever let anyone know that.]

I thought that was where my coat got to-- and my crutch, for that matter. [he sighs, trying to sit up better, but ends up sinking into the pillows, barely reclining, more laying. then he rubs the bridge of his nose with his right hand.]

I need new ones. [not looking forward to that.]

[searingwing]

[Diluc closes his eyes. Neither item had survived the fight. Off the top of his head he could imagine what need to be traded for the service of constructing new ones.

He undoes his braid to give his hands something to do. Then leaves his hair loose about his shoulders and face. For now.] Yes, neither were recoverable. …I don’t like asking but I need to know, the side effects of coming back to life, are you dealing with those? Or are they present at all.

[torpour]

I'm in bed for a reason, Diluc. [a rebuke, but only just barely.] The state you found me in, that day on the beach... it's similar.

[meaning, the symptoms he told diluc about during the festival, nehan's pockets full of pumpkin seeds.]

Even if I had my crutch, I wouldn't be able to walk, anyway. My leg gives way and spasms if I lean on it for too long.

[searingwing]

[Diluc folds up the black ribbon that had held his hair in the braid. He tucks it into his pocket.] It took me a week for the weakness to fade. …I was a corrupted ghost so there may be differences.

[He hasn’t said much about that time but the words hit the air. And they’re not wrong. He looks apologetic before he sinks back into the seat.]

[torpour]

You're implying that because I was killed by three grown men in a fight, my symptoms would be worse than yours.

[then nehan huffs, the sound more of derision than amusement.]

I can survive a week or so of pain and weakness.

[searingwing]

[He shakes his head, his hair shifting. He really has too damn much of it.] I’m saying I don’t know a consistent timetable.

I hate I can’t tell you a definitive. Flynn was cut down and his weakness time was different from mine. And I assume like him you don’t have issues with your memory the way I did for…a while after.

[He doesn’t want to admit how long after. It bothers him.]

This death and revival price seems specific to the individual.

[torpour]

I can handle whatever side effects come my way, Diluc. [perhaps those words would have been reasusring if they didn't come from a gaunt, almost grey man laying in bed.]

I have survived worse, no matter how much I did not want to. This is fate... and karma.

[searingwing]

I know. More than I could guess or imagine, you’ve survived. [But he doesn’t like that he can’t give any solace. He cares and that comes with a desire to help more than his usual. He rubs his face the gathers his hair and sets to braiding it again.]

Still, if there is anything you want me to do. I’ll do it. [In a reasonable time for once. He is learning to take breaks. It’s not only to take care of himself but indulge in this new relationship he has.]

[torpour]

I want you to quit fussing with your hair, when you clearly cant do a thing with it. [he came in with his hair braided but has trouble doing it now, and nehan can only surmise that someone else did it for him earlier.] Why you undid it earlier is beyond me.

[searingwing]

[Diluc snorts, shifting slightly and crossing one leg over the other. He looks like the lord he was raised to be. Elegant and almost flawless if not for the spark of annoyance in his eye.] Because keeping my hands busy helps.

[Then his eyes widen then narrow and he snorts, like a horse considering tossing their rider.] Damn blood influence. Now I get why I said so much lately.

[He drops his hands to his lap. It was better he stop anyway. With his mind so occupied he can’t do his usual work with his hair.]

[torpour]

Then suffer over it, and all you have said to me. I never forget, after all.

[and even in his state, nehan is unbearably smug over it. perhaps he didn't get any major secrets out of diluc, not that he even cares to get them, but he knows enough.]

[searingwing]

[Diluc rolls his eyes and Dellingr appears, settling in his lap like a scaled cat. He runs his hand down his back as he says mildly,] I don’t mind you know. I wish it hadn’t been teased out of me by some other influence.

[Dellingr expands until he takes up all of Diluc’s lap. He drapes a wing over his legs like a blanket.] …what was the tipping point for you? Did you get attacked by a beast out there?

[torpour]

[diluc can suffer-- as far as nehan is concerned, he's the one who chose to stay here.]

Exactly that. I was already well beyond the assistance of warmblood, and when I injured the beast, it bled into the wounds it gave me.

I imagine I killed it once I transformed. Good riddance, really.

[searingwing]

Yes. And it puts together the last piece…the hunters found the carcass when they were making sure nothing else was attracted to the area.

[Then he sighs, rubbing his face. He had burned the body and felt like he had failed somehow. But Nehan is a grown man who makes his own choices. Just as he had when he decided upon Yuri approaching him while he was corrupted that Yuri could kill him.

As he had needed to be. He shuts those memories away. The honesty tugging at him again.] I don’t know what else to say. Ask me something, please.

[torpour]

[nehan raises his brow at diluc-- the human looks ragged, like he hasn't slept in days, perhaps since killing nehan with ives and flynn. and the erune has to debate what to ask him, until he decides to have mercy.

relatively.]

How long has it been since you slept, you absolute fool?

[searingwing]

[He had expected a more vicious question. Or more personal. The question asked is. He blinks.] This morning on Kaeya’s couch. Just running myself into the ground isn’t an option.

[This raggedness is all years and years of pushing himself. All to make his father proud. Then to justice and doing what is necessary. Loneliness, depression, all those damn things he repressed have slipped through the cracks now he’s forcing himself to rest more.]

[torpour]

[fuzzy ears twitch as he absorbs that information. on a couch? really?]

Oh his couch, and not bed? [the wording is supicious too... do couples designate pieces of furniture to be theirs even if they're living with their partner? or are diluc and kaeya stranger than most?] Did you two have a spat to see you relegated to the couch?

[should nehan really be asking this, is the real question. he doesn't even want to know about quarrels.]

[searingwing]

[He stares at him in confusion. Is he implying-] No? We just started courting.

[Translation: they live apart and are absolute idiots.]

It would be too forward to be in his bed.

[torpour]

What. [flat. blank. flatter than beer that's been left out for too long. flatter than an ink stone. even his gaze, leveled right at diluc, is the same as his tone.]

You two have been acting like fussy lovers this entire time, but you've only just started courting? I had to endure you two sniffing around and asking questions about how I know one or the other, as if you were having some lovers' quarrel, trying to figure out who was cheating on who, and yet... [his ears flap, slipping over the pillowcase.]

You're both idiots.

[searingwing]

[This he knows how to endure. That flat look raises his hackles up and with honesty going to tear it out of him anyway.]

I was ‘sniffing around’ because at the time I was wary what he was up to and who he was connected to. Every moment of the day he has a thought he is planning something.

Part of that planning has been to nail me to the wall with laws so I could only move to his direction. We did not have our misunderstandings cleared up then.

[torpour]

[nehan snorts heavily, the motion aggravating his left arm and making it spasm. he grabs it by the elbow and pins it down on the bed, huffing until it stops moving.]

You two are going to increase someone's blood pressure one day, and I'd rather it not be mine.

Why don't you just go and be forward and improper, and then you wont have a problem with him trying to dictate you.

[searingwing]

[He tenses, ready to spring up to help then forces himself to relax. Then Nehan keeps going and despite himself his face goes red. His hands clench on the chair arms.

Oh he has heard a lot inside a bar while behind the counter. But this-]

It’s not that simple. [If he sounds a little tired that’s just him being him about personal matters.]

Did we really act lovers this whole time? [Were they that damn oblivious to what was between them?]

[torpour]

Spurned ones, always on and off for whatever ungodly reason. [then he puts his hands together, lacing his fingers over the sheets.] I know you're spending your mornings with him, by the way. I just though you were like rabbits the whole time as young, strong people are wont to do, but no, you two were likely just having... pleasant, chaste breakfasts.

[it's difficult to keep the scorn out of his tone, because nehan truly is annoyed that diluc and kaeya are just so bahamut-damned stupid.]

Congratulations on your relationship. [flat, dead.] However late you two realized it.

[searingwing]

[His eyes narrow. The scorn in Nehan's face cools the blush. Well, at least he isn't going to embarrass himself in that way. He leans forward slightly.] We were having breakfasts to sort out our issues. Things happened along the way.

I won't claim we weren't fools about getting together. But, we're not being fools about what we're doing now we are. [Dellingr lifts his head and blows out a plume of smoke that fades to nothing. Diluc rests a hand on his back.]

If something comes up, we talk it out. [And one day he will be in Kaeya's bed or vice versa. Not today.]

[torpour]

As long as you two stop sniffing around me as if I have information on the other one, I wont make a noise about it. [nehan wont interfere, romance is such a messy, sticky concept and he would like to not hear about it. at all.]

I'm not interested in being a captive audience, either.