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He's not exactly a regular, but Waver has definitely patronized this fine establishment... a number of times. And that's counting only him, and not any of Iskandar's purchases. Iskandar seems to have taken a shine to Mila, the Arachne co-owner of the place, though, so when Waver enters the store and she happens to be working the counter, she raises one of her multiple arms in a jovial wave and calls him by name.
"Welcome back, Waver!"
"Ah... er, hello, Mila. Thanks. Just looking around." He quickly tries to fend off further interaction by ducking behind the lingerie rack to examine some of the offerings with intense scrutiny, already red in the face. He's never going to get used to coming here, even alone.
...well. He thought he was alone.
"Welcome back, Waver!"
"Ah... er, hello, Mila. Thanks. Just looking around." He quickly tries to fend off further interaction by ducking behind the lingerie rack to examine some of the offerings with intense scrutiny, already red in the face. He's never going to get used to coming here, even alone.
...well. He thought he was alone.
Edited 2020-11-04 05:14 (UTC)
No, he is certainly not alone. Berserker came here for something fairly innocuous: lubricant. It would have been easy enough to come and go with just that, but he spots a familiar face as he walks in.
Ah...Well, he has no shame in making Waver's life difficult, so he goes right over to him.
"Looking for something for yourself?"
Immediately teasing.
Ah...Well, he has no shame in making Waver's life difficult, so he goes right over to him.
"Looking for something for yourself?"
Immediately teasing.
Waver practically jumps, muffling a soft squeak of surprise as he turns suddenly, still clutching a pair of fur-lined leather cuffs he'd plucked off the rack near the sequined bras.
"D-don't sneak up on me like that!"
He'd been so distracted and overwhelmed (no matter how many times he comes in here, it's always overwhelming) that he hadn't even noticed the familiar scent. It also smells strongly of incense in here today for some reason. At least it's not a bad smell.
"D-don't sneak up on me like that!"
He'd been so distracted and overwhelmed (no matter how many times he comes in here, it's always overwhelming) that he hadn't even noticed the familiar scent. It also smells strongly of incense in here today for some reason. At least it's not a bad smell.
Edited 2020-11-04 06:36 (UTC)
Berserker gives him a flat look -- as if someone as big as he is could sneak up on anyone in a shop. There's a pause, though, as he notices what Waver's holding. A visceral shock hits him hard, his mouth running dry.
"...Why are you holding those?"
They went through the same hell. Sure, it's been nearly a year, but the trauma still feels painfully fresh. Why, then, would he be willingly looking at that kind of thing?
"...Why are you holding those?"
They went through the same hell. Sure, it's been nearly a year, but the trauma still feels painfully fresh. Why, then, would he be willingly looking at that kind of thing?
Berserker looks embarrassed for a moment as he averts his gaze. The way he reacts to things that remind him of his trauma still bothers him -- he should be stronger than that, or at least past it, right? It should be gone by now...That's what he tells himself.
"...Are you okay with being restrained now?"
His voice is low, almost too low, as he asks that.
"...Are you okay with being restrained now?"
His voice is low, almost too low, as he asks that.
To Waver, it sounds almost accusatory. But that's just his own trauma-- because less than a year is not a long time at all, now is it?
He shrinks back a little, shoulders up defensively, and unintentionally clutches the leather cuffs to his chest. He doesn't even actually want them. He just didn't expect to be confronted with this question suddenly, by Berserker of all people, in the middle of a public store.
"Th-that's not-- I wasn't..."
He swallows, breathing faster uncomfortably.
"Is it really any of your business?"
He shrinks back a little, shoulders up defensively, and unintentionally clutches the leather cuffs to his chest. He doesn't even actually want them. He just didn't expect to be confronted with this question suddenly, by Berserker of all people, in the middle of a public store.
"Th-that's not-- I wasn't..."
He swallows, breathing faster uncomfortably.
"Is it really any of your business?"
He hadn't meant to make him feel like that at all. Now Berserker finds himself embarrassed by his own actions. He looks away.
"No...I just...I'm...curious, if you don't find such things repulsive any longer."
"No...I just...I'm...curious, if you don't find such things repulsive any longer."
"Such things...?"
Waver's eyes widen in dismay, ears bobbing when he vigorously his head.
"No. No, it's nothing like that. Not even slightly."
Quickly, Waver reaches over to hook the cuffs back onto their display, not looking at them properly. His heart is hammering in his throat, the discomfort making his tail lower.
"Don't compare something like that to bedroom play."
Waver's eyes widen in dismay, ears bobbing when he vigorously his head.
"No. No, it's nothing like that. Not even slightly."
Quickly, Waver reaches over to hook the cuffs back onto their display, not looking at them properly. His heart is hammering in his throat, the discomfort making his tail lower.
"Don't compare something like that to bedroom play."
Well, he's just making things worse, isn't he? He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. Now is not the time nor place to have a flashback.
"I can't...," he pauses, his hands balled into fists, "I can't even imagine allowing someone to restrain me again, much less in that context. That's all."
"I can't...," he pauses, his hands balled into fists, "I can't even imagine allowing someone to restrain me again, much less in that context. That's all."
"Is everything all right, dears?" calls over a voice from the front of the store in Mila's soothing, genuinely concerned voice.
It makes Waver jump, ears pressing down anxiously as he glances over his shoulder.
"F-Fine, thanks!" And then, to Berserker in a much quieter tone, "Can we go somewhere else? Please?"
Was Berserker buying something? Waver looks around, giving up on his own shopping adventure. He rarely has the guts to buy anything if there are even other people around at the same time, let alone someone he knows.
It makes Waver jump, ears pressing down anxiously as he glances over his shoulder.
"F-Fine, thanks!" And then, to Berserker in a much quieter tone, "Can we go somewhere else? Please?"
Was Berserker buying something? Waver looks around, giving up on his own shopping adventure. He rarely has the guts to buy anything if there are even other people around at the same time, let alone someone he knows.
He'd almost forgotten where they were. Even he can't fight a mildly embarrassed reaction, ducking his head with a grimace.
"...Let me get what I came for."
Another deep breath and he regains at least enough composure to buy a bottle of lube. He heads towards the exit, casting a glance back at Waver in a silent request for him to follow.
"...Let me get what I came for."
Another deep breath and he regains at least enough composure to buy a bottle of lube. He heads towards the exit, casting a glance back at Waver in a silent request for him to follow.
With a nod, Waver hurries to the door, lingering near it awkwardly until Berserker goes through with his purchase. Mila helps him out with her usual warm demeanor, if a few questioning looks, and then bids them both a nice day.
If it was someone else he didn't give a damn about, Waver would've bolted out of there immediately. He doesn't need to explain himself to anyone.
But the look on Berserker's face...
That's exactly what Waver has been afraid of. That he deserves a look like that: shock, confusion, horror even. Waver slinks after him with guilty shoulders and downward ears.
If it was someone else he didn't give a damn about, Waver would've bolted out of there immediately. He doesn't need to explain himself to anyone.
But the look on Berserker's face...
That's exactly what Waver has been afraid of. That he deserves a look like that: shock, confusion, horror even. Waver slinks after him with guilty shoulders and downward ears.
"I'm heading home for the night," Waver announces, packing up his satchel and starting to gather his coat and gloves. It's been bitingly windy out lately, and the cold makes his nose feel weird and numb, the smells all frigid.
Wrapping his scarf around his neck, Waver gives Yona a sharp look, and jerks his head in a nod toward the door.
"You should too so I can lock up. Come on."
Wrapping his scarf around his neck, Waver gives Yona a sharp look, and jerks his head in a nod toward the door.
"You should too so I can lock up. Come on."
It's not as if he'd meant to react that way -- restraints still bring up a deep-seated trauma reaction. Berserker has to shake that feeling off as he walks alongside Waver.
"...Don't take how I reacted personally."
Easier said than done, certainly.
"I just...It's difficult for me to understand the want to be restrained after what we went through. You get that much, don't you?"
Objectively spoken without judgement one way or the other. He wants to understand, honestly, because it feels so...counter to his own experiences. They both still bear the scars, visible and not, from the beginning of the year.
"...Don't take how I reacted personally."
Easier said than done, certainly.
"I just...It's difficult for me to understand the want to be restrained after what we went through. You get that much, don't you?"
Objectively spoken without judgement one way or the other. He wants to understand, honestly, because it feels so...counter to his own experiences. They both still bear the scars, visible and not, from the beginning of the year.
Being told not to take it personally doesn't actually help Waver feel much better, even if he does believe that Berserker didn't mean to make him feel that way.
He tugs his coat shut more tightly, crossing his arms over the front, and walks faster toward the general direction of both their homes. It's not like he can leave Berserker behind; he's just trying to get there more quickly and get out of the public eye. Even if Waver knows no one is listening or is going to care, he's still uncomfortable talking about this outside.
"Yes. I get it," he sighs, the edge to his voice more anxiety than real annoyance. "It's difficult for me to understand too. Okay?"
He tugs his coat shut more tightly, crossing his arms over the front, and walks faster toward the general direction of both their homes. It's not like he can leave Berserker behind; he's just trying to get there more quickly and get out of the public eye. Even if Waver knows no one is listening or is going to care, he's still uncomfortable talking about this outside.
"Yes. I get it," he sighs, the edge to his voice more anxiety than real annoyance. "It's difficult for me to understand too. Okay?"
Berserker notices his continued discomfort and decides to stay silent for the rest of the walk. Probably not his best decision, but it feels like anything he says will only make the tension between them worse. Life was so much easier when he lacked empathy...
The street their houses are on come into view, a sense of relief washing over Berserker in turn. It won't make anything less awkward, but at least they'd be able to speak more openly about it.
"...I'll walk you home. Don't...Don't force yourself to explain anything to me. You owe me nothing."
The street their houses are on come into view, a sense of relief washing over Berserker in turn. It won't make anything less awkward, but at least they'd be able to speak more openly about it.
"...I'll walk you home. Don't...Don't force yourself to explain anything to me. You owe me nothing."
As they walk, when Berserker gives him time to think in silence and relax a little, Waver is able to organize his feelings a bit more productively. He takes a few deep breaths, glancing up at Berserker furtively and trying to gauge his expression -- which as about as impossible as it is most of the time.
They reach their street at last, with Waver having calmed down, and finally he shakes his head as Berserker speaks.
"No. That's not true. You're right... it's something that ties us together."no pun intended
"Honestly, I think you'll understand better than anyone else I could talk to. So... when we're inside, we can talk. It's fine."
He only wanted a safe place to have this discussion. It's not for anyone else to be around.
They reach their street at last, with Waver having calmed down, and finally he shakes his head as Berserker speaks.
"No. That's not true. You're right... it's something that ties us together."
"Honestly, I think you'll understand better than anyone else I could talk to. So... when we're inside, we can talk. It's fine."
He only wanted a safe place to have this discussion. It's not for anyone else to be around.
He falls silent again, brow furrowed in thought. It's too easy to go back to that time, to feel the hopelessness and frustration consume him once again. He won't let it happen now, at least, even if he can feel the pangs of anxiety trying to seize him.
"...Alright, if you say so."
No running away from this. He is the one that asked -- sort of asked, anyway. The path has been decided. Berserker pushes the growing anxiety down as they head inside.
"...Alright, if you say so."
No running away from this. He is the one that asked -- sort of asked, anyway. The path has been decided. Berserker pushes the growing anxiety down as they head inside.
It's still embarrassing and nerve-wracking and Waver isn't very good at talking about his feelings, even if he's quite good at wearing them on his sleeve even when he tries to be more subtle. In that way, they probably feel more similarly than it might seem.
Waver shuts the door when they're both inside, locking it on reflex, hangs up his coat and scarf and bends to unlace his boots. He takes his time a little more than strictly needed, trying to maintain his hold on the calm he'd found while they walked and he decided to do this in the first place.
Berserker says he doesn't owe him anything, but it's more than that. There's no debt to be paid, true. But if Waver can help him, it feels wrong to shut him out instead. He owes this to a friend who is suffering not because of a debt but because it's what Berserker deserves.
"Let me make some tea. It's freezing out there, and I think we could both use it."
While moving around the kitchen to prepare the pot, Waver keeps talking with an honest admission. "I don't really know how to talk about this stuff. But I'm willing to try. Because... it's going to sound strange, but I think... it helps."
Waver shuts the door when they're both inside, locking it on reflex, hangs up his coat and scarf and bends to unlace his boots. He takes his time a little more than strictly needed, trying to maintain his hold on the calm he'd found while they walked and he decided to do this in the first place.
Berserker says he doesn't owe him anything, but it's more than that. There's no debt to be paid, true. But if Waver can help him, it feels wrong to shut him out instead. He owes this to a friend who is suffering not because of a debt but because it's what Berserker deserves.
"Let me make some tea. It's freezing out there, and I think we could both use it."
While moving around the kitchen to prepare the pot, Waver keeps talking with an honest admission. "I don't really know how to talk about this stuff. But I'm willing to try. Because... it's going to sound strange, but I think... it helps."
What a strange conversation to have over tea...
Berserker sheds his cloak and scarf, setting them aside for now.
"You're bad at talking about anything that embarrasses you," he says as he follows after him. Being rude is a coping mechanism.
"How...exactly does it help? I can't even begin to understand that. I-I...panic if someone so much as grabs my wrist suddenly."
He catches himself as he clasps his hand around his own wrist, remembering what it felt like when he was finally freed and how raw his skin was. His pulse spikes as the memories flood back, though he remains outwardly calm.
Berserker sheds his cloak and scarf, setting them aside for now.
"You're bad at talking about anything that embarrasses you," he says as he follows after him. Being rude is a coping mechanism.
"How...exactly does it help? I can't even begin to understand that. I-I...panic if someone so much as grabs my wrist suddenly."
He catches himself as he clasps his hand around his own wrist, remembering what it felt like when he was finally freed and how raw his skin was. His pulse spikes as the memories flood back, though he remains outwardly calm.
Listen... tea is comforting and calming. He's British. He needs this.
Waver's ears twitch at the comment. Called out.
"Hey. Give me some credit. I'm trying. You're hardly the most eloquent guy around, yourself."
Waver looks up in time to see his reaction, with a pang of sympathy at the sound of Berserker's voice cracking like that.
Somehow, it's easier to focus when he has a task at hand, and he speaks slowly between carrying out the motions of the familiar process.
"It's not the same. It doesn't feel the same. Being grabbed by someone unexpectedly sounds scarier. I would panic if someone did that to me without asking too."
Water, kettle, stove.
"I don't know how... to describe it. But also... Well. I think maybe you're misunderstanding something. What I was looking at in the store-- that's not what I was there for. And it's not something I've used."
He had been looking at it with consideration, but not with the intent to buy anything that looks like manacles. Only for ideas.
"But... there are other things I've... tried."
Tea leaves in the pot. He prods them with the spoon unnecessarily, waiting for the water to boil.
Waver's ears twitch at the comment. Called out.
"Hey. Give me some credit. I'm trying. You're hardly the most eloquent guy around, yourself."
Waver looks up in time to see his reaction, with a pang of sympathy at the sound of Berserker's voice cracking like that.
Somehow, it's easier to focus when he has a task at hand, and he speaks slowly between carrying out the motions of the familiar process.
"It's not the same. It doesn't feel the same. Being grabbed by someone unexpectedly sounds scarier. I would panic if someone did that to me without asking too."
Water, kettle, stove.
"I don't know how... to describe it. But also... Well. I think maybe you're misunderstanding something. What I was looking at in the store-- that's not what I was there for. And it's not something I've used."
He had been looking at it with consideration, but not with the intent to buy anything that looks like manacles. Only for ideas.
"But... there are other things I've... tried."
Tea leaves in the pot. He prods them with the spoon unnecessarily, waiting for the water to boil.
"What 'other things' are there?"
He's so far out of his element here. Unlike Waver, he doesn't have anything to distract himself. His thoughts wander unbound (ha), his agitation visible in the way his tail tip thrashes around.
He's so far out of his element here. Unlike Waver, he doesn't have anything to distract himself. His thoughts wander unbound (ha), his agitation visible in the way his tail tip thrashes around.
Waver can sense his agitation in the air, even without seeing the tension in Berserker's body, the way his tail twitches. He ducks his head, ears down, trying not to let it get to him.
It's a natural reaction, considering what Berserker has been through. What they've both been through.
"...rope," he admits in a mumble. Clears his throat, tries again, more loudly.
"Iskandar was interested in some displays they had once. Soft silk rope, artistic knots and patterns... We tried it. And... it felt really nice, honestly. I- I know it sounds weird."
It's a natural reaction, considering what Berserker has been through. What they've both been through.
"...rope," he admits in a mumble. Clears his throat, tries again, more loudly.
"Iskandar was interested in some displays they had once. Soft silk rope, artistic knots and patterns... We tried it. And... it felt really nice, honestly. I- I know it sounds weird."
Rope isn't threatening, doesn't bring about the visceral response that shackles and collars do. It wasn't used to control him. That much he can at least understand. His agitation lessens some as his more logical brain comes back in control.
"...It does. But it wasn't used against us, so it's not the same, is it?"
And it was with someone Waver loved and trusted, not in a place like that with people who treated them as things rather than living beings.
"...It does. But it wasn't used against us, so it's not the same, is it?"
And it was with someone Waver loved and trusted, not in a place like that with people who treated them as things rather than living beings.
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