middaeg | Are you brave enough to see? [open]

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Are you brave enough to see? [open]

Who: Berserker (Cú Chulainn Alter) and you!
When: Throughout Feoveuer
Where: The Wilde
What: Wilde Quest #2 Dragon's Den -- a dragon would like you to stop leaving him food offerings and go away
Warnings: none

((NOTE: Berserker will be in his full-sized dragon form, meaning he's about the size of an elephant, so keep that in mind!))

[ 1. Will you bite the hand that feeds? (Existing CR) ]

[ Food has been showing up at the mouth of the den he'd set up since he showed up in the Wilde. It's been an annoyance and it's not like he can tell them to cut it the fuck out. Instead, he just moves the offerings inside (mostly to prevent drawing in any wild creatures that might want to partake). Well, at least he won't go hungry.

Nearby footsteps draw his attention from where he's laying. He peeks his head out of the den and narrows his eyes. The dragon recognizes who's coming and huffs out a sigh. ]

... You came to find me, didn't you? Don't tell me you brought food, too.

[ 2. Will you chew until it bleeds? (New CR) ]

[ The sound of something being dropped near the opening of his temporary home gets Berserker to stand up and look out. It's not a mirrorbound that's familiar to him, so he's not about to be very friendly to them -- he's out here to be alone, after all. ]

Leave what you've brought and go before my kindness runs out.

[ Someone is a cranky boy. ]

[ 3. Will you get up off your knees? (Wildcard) ]

[ Did we plot something? Have an idea for this quest? Drop me a starter or PM me here or on Discord glitzkrieg#0673 and we can work something out! ]

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[ There's no way he's not going. Going back to the city for that is more than enough motivation to draw him out of his cave, at least for a few hours. Berserker lowers his gaze as the complicated feelings wash over him. It may bring him some sense of closure, even if he's not the one doing the slaughter himself. Or it could leave him feeling just as hollow. He doesn't know...How could he? ]

I am going. [ A declaration. ] I want to see them die with my own eyes.

[ As for the request, he hesitates. The last time he'd seen Scáthach, he'd been a mess, to say the least. It was not his proudest moment when his strength finally gave out and left him raw and vulnerable. Berserker keeps his eyes on the ground. ]

Of course she wants to see me again...I cried on her shoulder like a child last time I saw her. She wants to make sure I didn't give into the shit I've been consumed by since all of that happened.

[ Caster looks somewhere into the forest recalling his own conversation with her. That they both broke down on her— things to learn, things to learn. He picks a box of cigarettes, takes one and offers the rest to Berserker as he summons a tiny flame. ]

Yeah, well— [ "You and me both", but that could be distracting ] go and witness that. And then drop by her place, or drop her a note or whatever. How's that for a plan?

[ A sign of life basically. ]

[ Berserker takes one of the offered cigarettes with a grateful nod. ]

She should know I'm alive...but you'll keep bothering me until I agree to do the bare minimum to ensure that she knows. So fine. I'll do what you ask.

[ Finally, he decides to ask. ]

...You've been holding up well enough, haven't you?

Thank you. [ What happened took a heavy toll on her as well. On everyone, really. But in usual Celt fashion, the immediate circle of the closest one and family get the focus attention.

He focuses on the cigarette between answering the question with disarming honesty. ]

I don't know. [ If only because he thinks Berserker would understand ] It feels like a dream I've not fully woke up from yet.

[ A long time ago 'they' laid in sickness, under a curse really, caused by upsetting the Otherwordly maidens. And while most of the details remain a blur, the vague recollection remains. There is no curse this time, no half-divine intervention or grudge. Only... humans. Humans 'they' should have been able to deal with. ]

How's the forest treating you?

[ He tries not to think too much on what happened in his captivity. He'd been endlessly tormented by his own weakness for getting captured and had only just recently started to accept it wasn't his fault. His own cigarette becomes a focus now as his thoughts turn inward. Smoke exhaled slowly curls up from the corner of his mouth.

Berserker lowers his head, averting his gaze. They know each other too well, it's not like he can hide the truth. It's only fair to answer honestly after Caster's own vulnerable response. ]

... Better than in the city. [ He takes his cigarette from his mouth for a moment to flick the ash away. ] It's peaceful, except for the idiots coming up here with offerings. I can't turn them away.

[ He didn't need to say the last part. Caster knows why he can't turn them away. He looks back up after a moment. ]

I'm managing. [ It's the best he can do. ] Now...you have booze, don't you? Let's quit dwelling and drink.

Edited 2020-02-24 04:03 (UTC)

[ A hint of a smile appears on Caster's face. Oh, he gets what kind of these idiots might be. Those that care. Those that won't leave him alone. Aside from real idiots, out there, these exist too, but dealing with them— that's part of life ]

Do I count as an idiot too, or do this impeccable foresight to bring a fitting tribute sets me aside from them? [ Trying his hand at it, at teasing, as he produces out of thin air, two wooden, traveler's cups and hands one to Berserker, before getting to the bottle ]

You're an idiot, but one I can tolerate. [ As cruel as the words are, his tone is fond. ] You're not leaving me tribute in hopes of...I don't fucking know what.

[ He's very tired of the borderline worshipers showing up at his new doorstep.

The sudden conjuration draws his attention. He takes the offered cup with a slight tilt of his head. ]

Teaching yourself something new, are you?

[ So he's in the good idiots group that's good, he'll take that. The new fans Berserker found himself with can be of use- but still sound incredibly annoying. ]

Gotta do something with all that excess energy... [ As much as forest calls to him the regular treatments his need, his body still healing- he still needs to wait before he can fight and hunt ]

Speaking of which, tonight do you prefer your drink hot or cold?

[ Berserker couldn't be that patient. His wings still hadn't fully healed and he refuses to seek further treatment. If they end up useless, so be it, but he's confident in his own ability to rehabilitate himself. In appropriate fashion, he's pushing himself too far too soon. ]

I don't care. [ Truly, he doesn't. Food and drink is taken for its necessary effect for him. ] Whatever you prefer is fine.

[ He takes a seat on his makeshift bed, mostly a pile of blankets with some sort of padding serving as a mattress in the middle of it, and pats the space beside himself as an invitation. ]

[ It's really not patience— it's spite, to prove that they won't be stopped by something like this, to paint the Rathmores and whoever who might have sympathized with them that neither he or Waver back off... it's a need to confirm the presence and link to the other Mirrorbounds... but it's also to cherish and grow and nurture the feelings recently openly admitted.

It's many things. ]

Cold it is— [ Caster says as a thin sheen of frost slowly travels from his hand to the bottle. When he pours the ale it's chilled and he plops himself on the space Berserker patted. Not the best way to serve this kind of drink, but right now he welcomes the cold, even despite the winter. He takes a draught and then promptly follows it with a cough ] —might be too cold. Don't you worry I can warm us right up.

[ And he starts drawing another spell in the air, setting up a small field around them. Won't be instantenous ]

[ Berserker can't mind how cold it is. It's a bit painful to drink, judging by the grimace he can't hide as he swallows a mouthful. No matter -- a drink's a drink.

He leans against Caster once he's seated, settling in close. ]

Your warmth is enough for now.

[ Another drink, another long pause. ]

...Thank you.

[ For coming out here. For the drinks. For not abandoning him. There's a lot he feels the need to thank the witch for. ]

[ That makes Caster stop setting the spell, letting the magic dissipate in the air. Just channeling the evocation is enough to light his inner fire right back, the magical presence, the aura of warmth strengthened even by the unfinished spell. He tugs at the strings, not letting them fade away into the air completely, and puts a finger to Berserker's cup.

He did notice the grimace, and the ale slowly begins to warm up. ]

When you don't know what you want, it's okay to state what you don't want instead.

[ It's hard to impress upon people that he truly has no preference; the idea of likes and wants, especially with regards to food and drink, is still something alien to him. So Berserker just gives Caster a look, his head cocked slightly to one side ]

It's not that I didn't want it, it's that I don't care. [ And that's not dismissive, it's just a fact. ] Warm or cold doesn't matter.

[ Regardless, he takes a drink. There's no grimace this time. ]

But you didn't like it cold. [ Caster points out, not as a part of arguing, or being right, or whatever. He simply finds himself a little (a little) concerned over the disregard of such small things that could have made his life just... easier.

Joys of apathy right there. ] Bah, no matter, at least I get to keep you warm

[ He could keep arguing the point, but it's futile -- he discovered that much long ago. Diarmuid, bless him, still tries his best to see if he'll respond better to different foods by making a variety of meals. Berserker's given up trying to convince anyone that he doesn't care.

He wraps an arm around Caster's waist and settles in closer. ]

I didn't think you'd mind me being clingy like this...

[ It feels selfish to indulge like this. As much as he wants to be alone, the contact feels good. It's okay to want it and take advantage of the opportunity, so long as the other person is receptive of it. It's likely not just for his own comfort, rather it's a mutually beneficial action. ]

Look, I worry too— [ It's not just Scáthach, it's not just Diarmuid, and everyone else that Berserker is close too ] I might... know it's all going to be okay in the end.

[ If there is something they excel at, it is surviving. It doesn't make it any easier though. ]

But right here, and right now— I just want us to experience touch that doesn't hurt. [ If that's vulnerability, then fuck it, let it be so. If there is any place that weakness is allowed to be experienced it's with each other. ]

[ Berserker grown accustomed to pain being the only touch anyone dared to give him once again. Soft touch was once again weird and unwelcome, making him flinch because it should have been painful. It's another step backwards to how he used to be. Whether he wants to admit it or not, their captors were successful in convincing him he was nothing more than a monster.

He...wants to be more than that. And right now, he wants to feel something else besides the conflicting, confusing knot of emotions tangled in the pit of his stomach. The gentle affection and booze is a good enough distraction from it, at least for now. No more thoughts of what happened, of what they'd suffered, not even of what was to come. Nothing matters but Caster's presence right now. ]

That's...That's all I want. I want to feel something that isn't misery...

[ The fact that he can feel something beyond that now and that he wants to is remarkable. No matter how much progress had been yanked from his hands, they couldn't take everything -- he wouldn't let them. ]

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