deercountry | [open] bad doggie!

Entry tags:

[open] bad doggie!

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! ]]

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[an archon... he hasn't heard of that term before, from anyone in venti's world. diluc only told him that venti is a bard, and the man himself has confirmed that many times.

does it matter? no, of course not.]

You're here, that's all that matters to me.

When we're alive again, I'll look for you on the beach... And I wont let you go then, either. [he leans in to kiss venti's tears away, or attempt to. he manages to get one or two, but his neck no longer supports his head, and he's rapidly losing the back of his scalp anyway. he can barely breathe, as if a weight is on his chest and is steadily getting heavier.

all he can do in the end is tuck what's left of him against venti, close his eyes, and feel content.

except the end is not as he envisioned. dimly, he hears a door open, and a gust of wind rushes over their bodies. suddenly, nehan can breathe again, can feel again, and he opens his eyes, gasping for air.]

... promise... I'll find you first.

[ and venti laughs. he struggles to do so, his voice leaving him. after all, there's nothing really left of him. that he's more than willing to give into nothingness as long as nehan is there. he can still feel the tears leaking from his face even though there's nothing left for them to drip down or form from.

but as soon as venti lets go of what he thinks is his final breath, he finds that he can take in another. and another. warmth floods his body, the wind seemingly blowing through him and practically billowing into him from the inside out. the fleeting thought of what death might be like is thrown out the window, replaced by a desire to wrap himself around nehan again. loosely. weakly, but still there. physically whole again. ]

... we're alive...

[nehan wheezes out a sound that could only be laughter, even if it's faint, and he cuts it short. but still, laughter, full of pain. he's been denied death this time around, and that hurts.

still, he turns his face into venti and looks up, seeing the streaks tears have made on his cheeks, and reaches up with a shaky hand to wipe them away.]

Are you... all right?

[ he stares at nehan with a mixture of fear, horror, and relief. that the man who he thought would've died with him is still alive, and that they're safe. a big assumption but one that he wants to believe in more than anything right now. ]

... I'm fine. I think. It doesn't feel real.

[ the burning, the peeling into nothingness, and then snapping back into his form. it's disorienting despite the warm, soothing feeling that stays in his chest. ]

Nehan. Um...

[ how does one casually approach the concept of being a god of his world? not that he let it slip, but it's. there will always be a regret. ]

[nehan is struggling to get up, his body unsure of how to move after what just happened. but sheer willpower is what gets the erune to sit up, so he can begin checking venti for anomalies. he's already drawing his hands over his companion's arm to see if it's whole when venti catches his attention and calls his name.

his ears twitch, and he looks up.]

What is it?

Have you met others from where I'm from? Mondstadt, I mean. Or Teyvat?

[ his arm is fine. his skin is fine again... he's still shocked that his appearance seems to be normal so soon.

with his other hand, he quietly places it on top of nehan's closest one. ]

[where is he going with this, nehan has to wonder. he would have put the question off for later and tried to fuss more, but venti's hand on his own makes the erune take it, rubbing his thumb over venti's fingers, and he knows he should respond properly.]

Diluc, Childe, and Kaeya. All three have visions as well-- as I assume with Childe, even if I never saw it for myself. [and then he looks over venti, and spies the glass orb at his hip, confirming that venti gets his magic from it.] Why?

Have they ever mentioned anything about Archons? Or gods, or anything of the sort?

[ the direction he's going with this conversation... it probably sounds like it's coming out of nowhere. but it's something that he himself brought up, partially calling himself out. out of anger, out of sadness. desperation.

he feels nehan's eye on his fake vision. that he reaches down and touches it with his free hand. ]

This... this isn't real.

[nehan's eye had moved back to venti's face, but then it snaps back to the vision-- not a vision? it looks exactly like one, so it's an intricate piece of glasswork.]

Diluc-- most of what I know comes from him, that Mondstadt's patron is the wind god Barbatos. I'm under the impression that the gods bestow Visions on their people... But yours is a fake? [then nehan pauses, absorbing this information and consolidating it to what he already knows. and then he begins thinking out loud.]

Archons is a new term to me, but it means ruler-- synonymous with god in context. Only they have magic natural to themselves. Which means...

[nehan looks back at venti's face, ears standing straight up. he's figured it out.]

Ehe.

[ soft and meek, as his cheeks turn bright red. ]

I prefer the name Venti. It sounds a lot nicer off the tongue, doesn't it? The name Barbatos... a god doesn't walk the streets of Mondstadt. No, the city has always operated perfectly fine without someone deliberately watching over them.

[ as he speaks, the ends of his braids begin to glow. just slightly. ]

Freedom isn't truly freedom if the people believe someone is forcing it. No... they do quite fine without him.

[ and venti lets go of a held breath. ]

[the first thought in nehan's head after the revelation is that he is going to flay diluc alive for keeping this information from him. the second is that nehan made a massive blunder, and venti has no idea-- and nehan doesn't know how to approach it with him. after all, how do you tell someone you've been somewhat intimate with that you were under the impression that their other persona is an utter bastard?

the third is that those braids glow, and aren't just ombre. he might not look at venti's hair the same way again.

then he swallows to speak.]

And you wear a fake Vision just to excuse your magic. [he offers his hand to help venti up if he wants it, just for something to do with it.] You... are a kind god, then.

[ happily, venti takes that hand. he uses it to pull himself up. all the while, he doesn't break his eye contact with nehan. ]

A kind god? [ he reaches back and rubs the back of his neck. ] Ha, well. I think I'm definitely nicer than the previous archon.

[ the smile on his face is light, patient, and waiting--- to see nehan's reaction. ]

If... if I were to ever become a tyrant like him, to forcibly place Mondstadt in a position where no person could choose their own paths in life? I would expect nothing less but to be challenged and slain. If that makes me kind, then I suppose that I am.

[ a pause as he fights back the sting of tears again. ]

And that is why I'm Venti. I love our home, and our home loves me back in kind.

[nehan blinks again, seeing venti's eyes water, but unable to give him proper comfort because the revelation has still broken him. he knows he should tell the man right now... but he cant, he's a coward. instead, he fights with his left arm as he tugs his coat off and wraps it around venti's shoulders instead. this leaves his back and sides unprotected in the air, but the warmth in his chest is enough to keep him from shivering.

then he turns to fetch his crutch, walking slowly, gingerly. it's new, he just got it made, and he doesn't want to have to return for yet another one.]

I would say that's kind, yes. [when he turns back to venti, his face is carefully blank once more.] That you want them to be free... yes. And that makes you free as well.

We should... go back to my house.

[ nehan may not think it, but that decision to give up his coat... a different kind of warmth settles on his bones and on his nerves and brings a relieved smile to his face. that he doesn't seem to be nearly as affected by revealing who he is. what he is. what he means to an entire world and nation and the individuals that live in the city, even if they don't know who venti really is. ]

Please... yes, let's go.

[ he carefully wraps an arm around nehan's waist. even though he has that crutch, he wants to support him in that way too. just in case. ]

[venti's arm is warm. perhaps nehan cant feel his skin with the sleeve in the way, but he can tell that venti is warm. literally, not figuratively.

but also figuratively. that he wants to support nehan even after nehan has been cool towards him... he really is a kind man, isn't he? while nehan was thinking unkind thoughts about his alter-ego... he allows himself a peek down at the man as they start the trek to his house, and a lean against venti.

he should really tell him one day, when nehan isn't being a coward.]

It's not far. Can you walk the whole way? You may fly ahead if you wish, and I'll catch up eventually.

Edited 2022-02-16 06:10 (UTC)

I can, but... I would rather stick with you.

[ and these feelings aren't born from what just happened. no, he genuinely cares for nehan. isn't that obvious? that it's not sympathy that makes him want to help, nor is it a desire to see it paid back somehow, but that it's incredibly simple: he likes the erune. very much so. ]

We'll get there together.

[he has yo wonder why venti is so... selfless. why he's going out of his way for broken, old nehan. if he knew...

nehan sighs.]

All right. Together it is. And we can rest.

[nehan leads the way around the winding, crowded streets, knowing the ones that aren't packed from end to end, just to cut down the time it takes to get to the small townhouse with the stencils of pawprints on the front steps. little drawings that the little lamp people made of his omen's paws and that nehan decided to just let stay.]

[ the streets are familiar but the feeling in his chest isn't. there's a sense of urgency that venti didn't have the last time he came, nor the first. every other time might pale in comparison, too.

his eyebrows raise at the small paw pad prints, but if anything... it cements his feelings as being right. that if nehan didn't want them to be there, he would've probably taken the time to get rid of whoever's art it may be.

how endearing. ]

... you have fans, I see.

[nehan shrugs. he's so used to them that he doesn't give them a second look. he merely detaches from venti, and pulls out the keys to his house. there is a duplicate on the ring, the one he promised to venti, and he looks at it for a few seconds blankly before unlocking the door.]

They took a shine to Zuo leaving his dirty prints everywhere. But it helps people easily pick out my house from all the others from this block.

[then he beckons for venti to come, one hand outstretched for him.]

The daybed is in the same place, but I have alcohol as well... if you want it.]

[ nehan's house is already very obvious to him. it's the only one that feels like a second home. a place of comfort! but he would never say such a thing, at least not yet.

he takes that hand. squeezes. ]

No, I rather... I don't need to drink. [ words rarely spoken. ] I just want to rest with you.

[ merely sleep with and nothing else. the edges of his words, his innocent desires, are slightly frayed. ]

I don't want to be alone.

[venti's hand is warm. it's as if all of nehan's senses are focused on that one detail.]

Bed it is. [and nehan leads the way, even if it's right there and venti could have made his way there by himself. nehan just... wants to hold him, as well, even with the guilt roiling in his chest. at the foot of the bed, nehan kicks off his shoes, and climbs on, guiding venti to him. that's all that matters right now.]

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[open] bad doggie!

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