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middaeg2019-08-01 11:26 pm
curruid_coinchenn) wrote in middaeg2019-08-01 11:26 pm
August Quest Log and Catch-all [OPEN]
Who: Berserker (Cú Chulainn Alter) and you!
When: Throughout August
Where: Around and out of the city
What: Quests and other things
Warnings: One NSFW thread, warnings in headers
[ 1A. The Sly Seadog - do you want to cross that line? ]
[ 1B. The Sly Seadog - are you talking to me? (cw: violence) ]
[ 2. Surveillance - because it's a long way back from hell ]
[ 3. Fun in the sun (potentially nsfw) ]
[ 4A. Lùnasa - walk, walk fashion baby ]
[ 4B. Lùnasa - do my little turn on the catwalk ]
[ 5. Wildcard ]
((OOC: His appearance and current changes!))
When: Throughout August
Where: Around and out of the city
What: Quests and other things
Warnings: One NSFW thread, warnings in headers
[ 1A. The Sly Seadog - do you want to cross that line? ]
[ Berserker is acting as a bouncer for this dive bar. Tall, intimidating, and visibly a dragon makes him a good fit for the role. It also tends to make people behave when they know they're dealing with someone like that. He, however, looks bored -- whether it be at the door or walking around the bar.
On a break, he decides to get a drink. Sitting at the bar, he has a pint of dark ale in front of him. Without looking over, he decides to make his feelings known. ]
If you so much as think about causing a problem, you'll regret it.
[ 1B. The Sly Seadog - are you talking to me? (cw: violence) ]
[ Alternatively, someone is causing trouble at the bar and Berserker is Not Here for that. The problem patron is hauled off their feet by their collar, the temporary bouncer's face unchanged. They fight and struggle against him, but the blows are brushed off like nothing and the verbal threats go ignored...Well, mostly. Tired of them screaming abuse about his status as a monster, Berserker headbutts them with a sickening crunch (his horns come in handy sometimes). It has the double effect of shutting them up and breaking their nose -- win, win really. He chucks them out the door and returns to his post. The scuffle silences the bar for a moment, but everyone soon settles back down now that the problem is solved.
It's only in the calm after the brief fight that he notices blood on his arm...and some on his face. Annoying. ]
Could you get me something to clean this up with?
[ 2. Surveillance - because it's a long way back from hell ]
[ Berserker sits at his assigned point in the cave. His vision in the dark isn't particularly great, but he can hear well enough to make up for it. He's not on edge, per se; he's more in tune with his combat and survival instincts than normal. Gae Bolg, his barbed lance, is held in his right hand as he listens for any movement in the darkness.
Unfortunately, what he turns to in the dark is not a Cwyld, but whoever else is down here. He turns with his spear pulled back to attack. ]
Say something. You have three seconds.
[ He's being generous. ]
[ 3. Fun in the sun (potentially nsfw) ]
[ Berserker is quite please the weather's warmed back up after the artificial winter. In fact, he's so pleased that he's decided to go sunbathing.
Nude.
He's at least sunning himself in fairly secluded areas or on rooftops that look abandoned, but anywhere there's a sunny patch and at least partial cover is a potential place to warm himself. Wherever he's decided on, he lays on his stomach with his arms crossed, head resting on his arms. His wings are stretched out and his tail at least partially covers his butt and legs. His clothes are nearby, too, so he can get dressed if he feels so inclined. Berserker's so content that he's nearly asleep.
Nearly.
The sound of someone nearby is enough to rouse him and he opens one eye to look back at whoever's intruding on his chosen spot. ]
What do you want?
[ 4A. Lùnasa - walk, walk fashion baby ]
[ Berserker let himself get dragged into the fashion festivities. Normally somewhat restrained in his clothing choices, he doesn't seem to mind the ridiculous clothes he's been given to wear by Precogstitchin'. Mostly covered yet completely exposed, it feels very similar to his normal Spirit Origin. He appreciates the consideration given to accommodate his wings and tail, too.
It's odd someone so cantankerous as Berserker is willing to wear this, knowing it'll draw unwanted attention. Speaking of...He gives a cold look to someone he's noticed staring at him. ]
What is it? If you want something like this, I can tell you where to get it.
[ 4B. Lùnasa - do my little turn on the catwalk ]
[ In addition to other unpaid modeling, one of the young designers decided to recruit Berserker as a model. The only reason he went with the designer is because they wouldn't leave him alone otherwise; "no" was not an answer. A dragon would set them and their designs apart! What a rare chance! So he relented and went with it.
Dark, draping styles are mostly what he ends up in, with jeweled accessories hung on his wings and horns. It's ridiculous and outlandish, but there's a certain allure about his look. He seems bored backstage, though, and looks to another model. May as well make small talk because he's sure someone will try to get it out of him sooner or later. ]
Did you get dragged into this, too?
[ Because he can't imagine someone doing this willingly. ]
[ 5. Wildcard ]
[ None of these prompts doing it for you? Got an idea in mind? Did we plot something already? Drop me a starter or message me on Discord (glitzkrieg#0673)! ]
((OOC: His appearance and current changes!))
no subject
A stinging wetness fills his eyes. That...that he doesn't understand, either. He leans down to rest his forehead against the Lancer's, ignoring the sting in his eyes and the dampness on his cheeks. He doesn't even know what's happening and that makes this so much worse. The ache he feels on someone else's behalf, the tears falling from his eyes so alien that he can't remember what the sensation is. ]
... That's a fool's errand. [ His voice trembles, uncharacteristically soft. ] I hope you don't fail this time.
[ It's not cruelly he speaks those words, but almost hopeful. Please let someone show him what they see in him because he can see nothing but an empty, ruthless shell of a man.
To feel this weak almost feels like his body betraying him. Berserker had promised everything to Diarmuid in their bond and if he couldn't show this kind of painful vulnerability, it wouldn't be fair. This is how he justifies it. ]
I don't...I don't know. [ His voice still shakes, frustrating him just that little bit more. ] Anything...Whatever you first saw in me.
one day we'll have a thread that isnt Pain
And, for just a moment, regret bites at the his heart.
Without the glue of a cold, emotionless heart holding him together, Berserker suddenly feels altogether too fragile, too easily pulled apart and exposed and there seems no easy way to piece him back together. What if the only thing he's achieved with this Bond and by reawakening those dormant feelings is to shatter an already broken man anew?
No. He won't let that be so. Even as his vision blurs with the beginnings of tears of his own, Diarmuid pushes through.]
Your strength- not your power, your strength. [With one finger, he brushes a tear from Berserker's cheek, catching it before it can fall.] I don't know how you bear it all. Lesser men would waste away but here you stand.
[He speaks softly, words hushed but hurried as he continues without giving him a chance to respond. There's no room for argument here. When he reaches out to brush back his hair and stroke his temple, it's reassuring in its certainty, as though trying to affirm his existence through touch alone.]
And your honesty. You say you have no honour or pride but I've never trusted a man so deeply as I do you. Not since-
[Again, an abbreviated shake of the head. It's not about him. There's more he wants to say still but, caught in the moment, he's getting ahead of himself.]
When you told me that I once served you, I wondered why. But I understand it now.
but in the meantime: more pain
It's a revelation that provides some kind of relief. It's okay to feel like this because he doesn't need to just survive. There's more to life than fighting and killing and it feels strange. He doesn't say anything, just stands as he is. There's no fight against the tears that keep falling, no fight against the painful emotions. He just lets the tension leave his body. ]
I asked you not to give up on me and I promised you not to go back to how I was. [ It's the most difficult promise he's made. ] ...It's been worth the pain.
[ He has a different moment of clarity: they never got further than the entrance. Berserker suddenly feels even more exposed. Straightening up, he turns and heads for the stairs. ]
Come...I want to lay down.
[ With you goes unsaid. ]
no subject
... it has. My vow is as strong as ever.
[Retiring upstairs, though? That sounds like a grand idea and Diarmuid immediately follows as he he heads for his room. Yet even without facing those tired, confused eyes, his body language is painful in its own way. The slope of those strong shoulders, the fatigue in his normally prowling steps... they bring those three little words he's been fighting so much as thinking to the tip of his tongue- but that's as far as they'll go. In truth, while is faith in Berserker is unyielding, that which is has in himself is anything but. They're lovers, yes, but it seems so soon to make such a declaration; he's so used to taking things at a sprint- quite literally- that he's not even sure whether he's just clinging to meaningful companionship.
It doesn't matter. They're words, nothing more. What truly holds worth is that he's here with him now and, with the bedroom door closed, he's quick to move closer to him again.]
You're impossible, Cú, but I don't think that's anything new. [Automatically, he winds his arms around the dragon's middle, pressing his face against the back of his neck in such a way that it muffles his words. It's more difficult a gesture than before with those wings to take into account but he's determined to make it work.] And gods help me, I like that about you. I like your sharp tongue and your chaos.
no subject
If you didn't, I'd question your sanity. [ The turmoil within him is subsiding, if he's teasing like this. He lingers in the embrace for a moment longer before extricating himself from the Lancer's grip. ] I did say I wanted to lay down.
[ He finally takes a moment to dry his face, the tears finally stopping. It was more annoying than anything and he's grateful the witch said nothing about it. Off go his pants before he lays down -- the only reason he'd put anything on was to meet Diarmuid and a naked dragon would cause more of a stir than he wanted to deal with. There are some new scars on his body, too, from his stint with the Wilders. Such things are par for the course with someone as reckless as Berserker, though.
He pats the bed with a faint smile. ]
Now come here.
no subject
[Diarmuid isn't shy about looking Berserker over as he strips off and, while those marks don't go unnoticed, they do go uncommented upon. At least, verbally. As he joins him on the bed, he first pauses to run a hand over the wounds, barely letting his fingertips graze the skin before moving on. They're nothing to worry about on the surface but they speak volumes as to the kind of man he is and how reckless he can be.
Now that's the part that truly concerns him.]
... I'm glad you're safe, though. Truly.
[With that, he places a light kiss on his forehead and settles down beside him, one arm around his shoulders in an attempt to coax him into lying against his chest.]
no subject
He doesn't really have to be coaxed very hard, he lays against Diarmuid's chest and settles down, draping an arm over him. Just the contact alone is enough to soothe him more, ease the conflicted feelings from the dream. None of that matters right now, he's with someone he truly cares for and someone who cares for him in turn. A deep, low rumble comes from his chest, a sound of...contentment. ]
... I'm glad you're here.
[ Worrying about Scathach's reaction to their Bond is a problem for tomorrow. For now, he's more than satisfied with easing back into sleep alongside Diarmuid. ]
no subject
It doesn't work. Scáthach's words rest more heavily on his mind than ever in the silence. There are so many things he wants to ask, so much Diarmuid wants to hear from him that might soothe his fears but he lets them lie for now. To his eye, Berserker's worth was never in question; he's not the one whose life has been dogged by failure and disappointment.
The pressure not to fall short like he has so many times before in his duty to his Bonded is immense.
He can't. He won't.]