Terrified of the open road, where it leads, you never know [closed]

[curruid_coinchenn]

Who: Berserker and Diarmuid
When: Septeril 1st-ish
Where: No man's land
What: Wilde quest: The Big One aka two celts go on a fishing adventure
Warnings: none right now


[ It was just barely dawn when they started off on this little quest, the first rays of the morning just starting to peek over the horizon. The city itself was still asleep, with only a few other souls walking the streets; they weren't beginning their days but ending their nights, more than likely. The early morning air is cool and crisp, enough to sting when you breathe it in and yet still be refreshing.

Knowing what was in store for them in just a few days and what happened in their shared dream, a quest calling for help in fishing seemed like just the thing to ease their minds. Functional, yes, but just some time to spend alone together. It's unlikely to be too dangerous or too much for them to handle despite the warnings on the poster. They'd get something for dinner out of it, too.

Buckets, rods, and spears, they're set. It's way too early for Berserker, normally a late sleeper. As they venture outside the wall, he finally says something. ]

Is what we're looking for really that dangerous or are the fishermen just too scared to handle it on their own?

Comments

for once in my life no

[ua_duibhne]

[The peculiarity of his apparent class change isn't lost on Diarmuid but he can work through the implications of that when they don't have a giant seahorse-lobster bearing down on them. The barrier he's cast around Berserker sparks and hisses under the assault but holds long enough for him to go to town that shell. There's an animalistic frenzy in the way he tears into it, enhanced by the jagged form of his armour and wings and claws, but it's working.

By some stroke of luck that neither of them are usually privy to, the barrier holds out long just enough for him to wrench part of it free. Less fortunate is that, as it shatters, Berserker receives the full force of the creature's claw.

That's when his dedication is truly tested.

What he wants to do is run to his side and cast another barrier to deflect the next blow. The remains of the smaller monster still smeared across the rocks are a stark reminder of just how much danger he could be in.

What he does, however, is very different.]

Leave it to me!

[Pushing all doubts aside, Diarmuid takes a running leap up onto the beast's claw just as it lifts it for a follow up attack. The extra height is exactly what he needs to get onto its back. His boots slip on the lichen but his balance holds firm and, in one last strike, he drives Gáe Dearg into the gap that Berserker created. Bile-black blood spurts out, coating his arms and chest, but he's relentless, piercing the creature as many times as he can.]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Again, the faith he has in Diarmuid doesn't go unanswered. The relentlessness of the attack gives him just a moment's pause, a twisted smile creeping across his face. No mercy for the enemy, no matter what it is. He stands strong, no sign of the burning pain in his ribs shown. His spear is readied for an attack once again, scanning for an opening.

There.

Berserker jumps forward, cracking the broadside of the spear tip across its head. It's a hard enough strike to disorient it and keep it from harming the witch on its back. Quickly turning his weapon in his grip, he stabs at it again and again. The creature shrieks from the two-pronged attack, though it's too wounded to escape. It's Diarmuid's spear that deals the final blow, the noise ceasing and the beast growing still.

The dragon takes a step back, a splatter of its blood across his face and chest. At this point, apathy would normally take its place, but it doesn't. A satisfaction settles over him -- the most positive emotion he's felt about a battle in a very long time. Fighting alongside his Bonded and lover actually felt good. ]

You did well.

[ It's not empty praise, either. Despite knowing Diarmuid's past and his failures, he's shown Berserker nothing but valor worthy of pride. ]

[ua_duibhne]

[The tail whipping back and forth, desperate to knock him off of the shell, is a blur of motion in the corner of Diarmuid's vision. But one it doesn't find its mark; not for the first or even last time, Berserker's intervention probably saves his life. If nothing else, it gives him the time he needs to finally put an end to the fight. With one last, viscious thrust, Diarmuid rams his spear straight into the beast's middle-

- and then it's over.

For a few short moments, Diarmuid stays perched atop its back, panting as he feels the last signs of life slip away. By the time he clambers down, he's a mess but glowing from the mixed thrill and Berserker's praise. There's something about fighting alongside someone he feels so in sync with- hell, someone that he has such strong feelings for, romantic or otherwise- that has him buzzing and it shows.]

By your command and spear, Hound of Ulster. [Before Berserker can complain about the formality, he flashes him a smile to show he's just teasing.] But thank you. Are you alright?

[Diarmuid reaches out- only to stop half way when he realises that his forearms are black and sticky with blood. Well. This cloak is a lost cause, that much is certain. Pulling a face, he shrugs it off and wipes his face and hands off as best he can with the cleaner parts of it. As he leans forward, though, something glints around his neck: the boar tusk Berserker gifted him the month before.]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker wipes the blood from himself; it's not infected blood, thankfully, so he's not worried about it. Normally he's not so fastidious about being clean, but they still need to make their way back through town. Being covered in blood is one way to draw a ton of unwanted attention. ]

I'll be fine.

[ His ribs ache, certainly, and breathing is a bit painful, but nothing feels broken. He does expose the injured area to show Diarmuid, heavy bruising already forming under the skin. It's nothing he can't handle, it just looks absolutely nasty.

Mostly clean, he pulls the Lancer into a sudden hug. They're alone here, so there's no harm indulging this urge. He nuzzles against his neck, savoring the contact and feeling of the magic between them. ]

So you didn't find my gift too cruel, I see.

[ua_duibhne]

If you're sure.

[There isn't much room for him to argue- both metaphorically and literally, he discovers as he's pulled into his embrace. Immediately, Diarmuid sinks against him, cupping his face in both hands where he's too wary to test those bruises by putting them on his waist. The kiss he steals is light, barely a ghost of contact, but there's warmth enough in his eyes to make up for it.]

The opposite. [He relinquishes his touch only to brush a loose, wet lock of hair back from Berserker's face.] I feel stronger because of it. Because of you.

[Ah, is that too much? Before he can say anything even more foolish, he forces himself to look away. There's not much he can do about the rising staccato beat of his pulse or the hint of colour to his cheeks but he at least manages to sound less sentimental.]

... you've got me talking like a lovesick maiden. [He laughs, embarrassed.] But fighting by your side truly is an honour.

[It's fine to indulge those feelings in private but he has to at least try and cut them off in person; after all, their Bond is strong enough that he'll feel them anyway if he simply tries to hide them.]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ He should pull away and stop giving into himself, but it feels good. It's part of the many, many years of denial: now that he has a safe outlet, he's going to make use of it. As much as he doesn't understand the feelings aroused in him by Diarmuid and their Bond, it's fine. He knows letting himself close to the witch and letting his guard down creates a warmth within him, something actually positive pulsing through their Bond. ]

You're too sentimental. [ He, too, steals a kiss, a little bolder than the Lancer's. ] ...But I don't mind.

[ If he wasn't that way, he wouldn't be the person he's grown to truly care about. Berserker lets himself relish in the embrace just a little bit longer before he backs away. ]

We should leave before it gets any later. [ At least dinner's been figured out. A decent catch, at least on the dragon's part. ] Less questions about the blood in town that way.

[ A joke. He's learning. ]

[ua_duibhne]

[Diarmuid laughs and nudges his forehead against Berserker's, caught up in both the afterglow of the fight and the pleasant warmth travelling through their Bond. It's not simply that it feels good either; knowing that he's capable of such a feeling after spending so long in cold darkness brings him more joy than even their victory.]

I know, I know. [He flashes him a smile.] If you're not careful, it might rub off on you.

[Reluctantly, he allows Berserker to break away. He's right; any later and they'll be walking through the city at rush hour covered in blood and smelling of fish. Not a particularly appealing prospect. Even so, Diarmuid pauses to pick up the chunk of shell that his fishing partner manages to wrench free and, after scraping off the fleshier parts still attached to it, tucks it under his arm as proof.]

You know, I've always thought that you had a sense of humour you'd be dangerous. [a beat] Looks like we're safe for now.

[he's just teasing he appreciates the joke serker]