That… Is not what I expected
bloodiedforest said: Shows up before the man, grinning like the jerk he is. "Good evening~"
"And what do you want then?" He looked up from sharpening an old ax. "Get lost, did you?"
"None of your business." He didn’t like being spied on, least of all by this nosy vampire. For someone so smart, he didn’t seem to be able to figure out when he wasn’t wanted. "Anything else? Or shall you see yourself out?"
And completely ignoring the man, he takes a step closer, hands disappearing behind his own back and grin still on his face. ”Oh, come now~. Do you plan on murdering someone?” He starts to walk around the spliced man with slow, methodical steps. ”I can help you~ And The administrator wouldn’t even find the body. Doesn’t that sound nice of me?”
When the other goes for the towel, Diethelm takes the chance to playfully smack Destan’s butt, grinning afterwards. But then he turns, taking Destan close to him by the hip, and starts to exit the bath house.
"Hmm? I can show you what you can do, but what you will do is up to you. I suppose that’s the issue, hmm?"
They come back to Diethelm’s bedroom, where he promptly tosses the towels onto the bed and stalks over to the standing wardrobe. He opens the dark wood doors, and starts to root around for something comfortable to wear. He settles onto a tunic that falls just above his knees. It’s green, as per his usual attire, and is simple compared to what he usually wears. Subdued colors, sage embroidery, nothing shiny. And he motions to Destan.
"Come pick something to wear, Destan~."
He does make an indignant sound, he admits, but he’s pretty sure anyone would with a surprise slap to the ass. But it doesn’t look like the other guy’s starting anything (pity) as he’s steered out of the bathhouses and and towards his rooms.
"Well yeah. But ain’t such a big thing now.”
Deithelms clothes are, well, not really to his liking. Usually. They’re often flash or revelaling so it’s strange to see some normal and plain looking things in there. Almost drab looking, which again, is a surprise. Still, it doesn’t help that Deithelm’s taller and generally bigger than he is, and the items he chooses (plain, plain things with nothing fancy or lacy or velvety thankyou) and he pauses for a second to roll up cuffs of pants and sleeves and belatedly wonders if the guy’s got a belt laying around.
He appreciates the view as Destan turns around and heads back to the pool. Obviously. And it’s evident in how he chuckles deeply to himself, waiting for the other to return. He out reaches a hand to the other man, waiting for him.
"Come now, Destan. I shall show you properly what you can do. But first I think we would both appreciate clothes, hmm?"
He almost kicks the things halfway across the floor, but he’s lucky (this time) in that his fingers meet the rims before his feet. Still, things are alot clearer (albeit foggy due to the steam from the bath) with the things on.
"What I can do huh?" He humms thoughtfully, walking back and ignoring the hand in favour of reaching over and grabbing a towel. "Lookin’ forward to it."
Once suitably dry though, he does eventually take the offered hand, if belatedly.
The tone has simmered. They’ve calmed down some. And it’s now that Diethelm realizes that Destan is still naked. He peers downward and then back up to the other, grinning in a coy way.
"Hmm~ I do recon you’ll help me. And I do know a thing or two about velvet… But you’re right. I would have it so that furs would be all around to warm us." He gently lays a hand on Destan’s hip and leans close to lay their foreheads together.
"Go get your glasses… And dry off. Idiot…" He smirks, using a soft, almost whispered tone.
He still can’t see shit, so whatever kind of look the other was giving him was lost. Either way, he blinks in surprise as their foreheads touch, and can’t help the smirk that crawls its way onto his face. Well, less of a smirk and more of a pleased upward turn of lips that still somehow came across as anoyyed.
"Yeesh, what are you, m’ mother?"
Moreso when the other berates him affectionately.
Which of course makes Destan to pull back enough to flick him on the forehead (or rather, in the general direction of his forehead) before turning away to hunt for his glasses on the ground.
"Destan…" He gives in a warning type of tone. "You don’t ask about the inner workings of the castle or logistics of how things will be done when we’re having a serious conversation about or relationship… I just… Everything has it’s place and time."
He supposes that learning tact for someone such as Destan might be hard to do. He assumes, especially with who Destan is and how he communicates, that tact and timing might be something that will never be learned. The idea makes him chuckle gently.
He smiles endearingly.
"I want you to do what you want. If you want to be here with me, then yes. I will change the living quarters to reflect what we shall like in our room. You can help me with that."
He wasn’t sure what kinda face the other guy was making, but he had a sneaking suspeicion he was being made fun of somehow. Bastard. Still, for lack of evidence, he simply lets go the other’s wrist, figuring flight is no longer threatening.
“‘Our room’ huh?”
Well, it’s not that he didn’t like the sound of that. But, you know, saying it out aloud was kinda something else. And, wel, sharing a room with this guy would probably be completely different than sharing with Marcel or, previously, Anatole. And, considering the other guy’s track record, he might end up more tired than rested sometimes.
"Well I would recon I’d help ya." he replies suddenly, "Else it’ll be all furs n’ velvet n’ I know y’ know nothin’ about how bad velvet can stain when used onna daily basis.”
Like that one time someone requested velvet gloves of all fuckin’ things to use, and then wondering why they were so fucked up after using them on the damn battlefeild. Really? Did no-one have any goddamn sence? He coulda cried when the guy tossed ‘em weeks later after they were worn down beyond use.
"You were supposed to ask. And not in this type of manner, Destan." The angry tone is met with an annoyed one of his own. You were supposed to trust me to know what I was doing. They lock eyes for a moment and he just stares at him.
Then he sighs, rubbing at his eyes with his hand.
"So now what, Destan. You have the entire world at your fingertips. Now what do you do with it then, huh? What’s changed? You asked me if you’re supposed to wait on me? Wait for me to give you permission to live how you please?"
The question still stands. Nothing was answered, and not Destan just feels like a fool. Diethelm gently touches his cheek again in a lamenting manner. Small crab in a huge pond, he thinks.
"I just wanted to give you a place to call your own, that’s all Destan. That’s all…" He reassures.
"I did ask." Kinda. “‘What m’ I supposed t’ do here’? That’s askin’, aint it? N’ I wouldn’ta thought a teleportin’ room was common enough fer me t’ assume one would be here."
Though his tone loses it’s heat by half because yeah, he guessed he could’ve asked. But wouldn’t a rational person have assumed convenient portals were too convenient to exist right now? Wouldn’t someone have not immediately thought ‘Oh, there must be some teleporting shit around here so it’s fine!’?
"Hey, I never said that. I jus’ said I didn’t know what th’ fuck I was gonna do here. And don’t insult me by sayin’ I thought I needed your permission t’ do shit. I jus-… Didn’t wanna haveta leave ya t’ go off n’ do me own thing, yaknow?" Because he knew what that felt like. "But the other hand was stayin’ here and doin’ nothin’. I was worried about that. N’ now that there ain’t anythin’ stoppin’ me from buggering off n’ comin’ back on a daily basis, ain’t nothin…”
Nothing really stopping him. Nothing stopping him from staying on a temporary contract or staying here on a permanent basis and filing for off base living arangements… or even quitting entirely and living here and finding… something else to do out there. Now with the worry of the ability to travel freely (and timely) between here and where ever, there wasn’t a lot left to really worry about.
"…Well, ain’t nothin’ really I can think of that’d make me say no."
He still had no idea what the fuck he would do, in the end, but-
"….So what now? M’ gonna assume y’ want me t’ move in permanently, right?" He asks, eyebrows still furrowed in a thoughtful frown and pointedly not looking at the other guy. Even if he couldn’t see shit since his glasses still lay at back at the edge of the tub.
Diethelm hasn’t stopped even at Destan’s groping. He’s toweled off the dripping water, wrapping the towel about his waist and tying it there, with another smaller towel over his shoulders. He listens to the other’s words with a longing sadness on his face. But he stands there, listening to him.
"You’re asking me what you can fill your time with? You’re worried about sitting and being bored here?" He shakes his head, forcing himself to refrain from rolling his eyes. What an absurd question. Completely ridiculous. "Destan…" He starts in a strange tone denoting almost some sort of adult speaking to a child. (Which he might have gotten from being a father now.) "There are portals in the gallery to take you to major cities in the world. Tokyo, New York, Paris. You can go wherever you please. You needn’t ask or wait for me. If you want to go join some intelligence agency in Spain, you can do that. If you want to open a small shop on the beach of small village in South America, then go do that. You can do anything you want to in the entire world." He sighs, brow furrowing upwards in a desperate way. Slowly, the vampire’s hand comes up to cup the other’s cheek in a tender way.
"The world is open to you as you see fit. All I wanted was for you to call this place home. To come back to me when your day as over. To find solace in this place. But you seem so adverse to that idea, that I-… Well I just don’t know." His hand gently drops only for him to smooth it over his now drying hair.
"Like I said, Destan. You need to figure out what it is that you want to do to fill your time. I’m not asking you to give up freedom, I’m asking you to see some aspect of that in this place. You think I want to capture you, to put you in this cage of a castle. That having an easy life with no boundaries is scarier then having a smaller cage, because at least then you can see the walls and you know what they are."
That was it, wasn’t it? The idea of endless possibility, for some, seems too much. There had to be some sort of boundary for Destan to feel comfortable. The question ‘what do you want’ is too open for the man to define.
But it still needed an answer.
"I can’t tell you what to fill your life with. That’s up to you. But don’t you dare think that because I want you hear and to be able to call this place home, that I’ve made that decision for you. If that’s the case, then I don’t want you here, because that’s your decision to make, not mine."
"I wanna know how th’ fuck I was supposed t’ know about that." He says blandly, the realisation making him feel equal parts an idiot and angry at the other guy for not. Just-
"I ain’t a goddamn midreader n’ this place don’t come with a fuckin’ directory of facilities."
No seriously, how the fuck was he supposed to know?!?! It’s not like he used anything other than the teleporters here before! And, didn’t Marcel and Destan use the trains and shit when they first got here? Wouldn’t mentioning those portals have been super useful!?!? HUH?!
"And don’t be an idiot!" He fumes, working himself into getting mad because, well, he’s not too sure why but he’s just starting to feel really pissed off. "There’s a fuckin’ reason I took a room on th’ surface of th’ bases yaknow! I didn’t move in with Marcel when he moved neither! I don’t care where it is, but if you’re there then I don’t give a shit about anythin’ else, y’ fuckin’ shit! I was jus’ worried ‘cos I thought there was nothin’ else here fer me t’ do with m’self.”
He probably said some pretty embaressing things, upon reflection, but he’s kinda miffed and picking his words was never his strongest point.
His arms gently fall back to his sides and he regards Destan with a slightly saddened expression now. The other was looking for a purpose, some sort of reason to be with him. To stay here in the castle with him, day in and day out.
"To play house?" Bad choice of words. It shows on his face.
To play house was all Diethelm wanted. To live comfortably, with the people he cared about around him, safe and sound. That’s what his goal was. And he’s beginning to think that that’s only his goal, and no one else’s.
Other then being at my side? Isn’t that enough? Do you not want that?
"No, you’re right, Destan. You do need purpose. I just thought you might be able to find it here, with me." How silly of me. ”I can’t tell you why it is you live. I couldn’t tell Etienne why either, and that’s why he’s where he is. Because he didn’t have a purpose in living. That’s why Ariel had died. Because he didn’t have a purpose in living. Lucian left to go and find his purpose and never returned. Yivon did the same.”
I have tried to give you all the chance to find your purpose in a safe place, and you have all thrown it in my face.
He turns his back now, and steps out of the pool, putting distance between them. The vampire is traveling to the towel rack and tugging at the clothe to pat himself down. Almost as if patting away the disappointment and anger he’d felt moments ago. Now he’s just sad.
"Go find your purpose, Destan. And maybe…" He turns back around to look at him. "Maybe that’ll lead you back here."
No, No, no this was wrong. Whether he was being misunderstood on purpose or he really was that bad, it was clear that the other guy thought he needed a reason.
Right now, frustration didn’t even cover when he was feeling. Shit. He was so disctracted he didn’t even flinch with Yivon was mentioned.
"You-…" Just don’t get it! "Hang on lemme try to explain it better dammit!" He fumes, scrambling out after him and again grabbing at him to stop him.
"Bein’ safe ain’t th’ only thing!" Dammit how can he put it into words without fucking up? "Okay, say I chuck everythin’, n’ quit n’ live here for keeps. Then what? Othern’ enjoyin’ each other’s company, what else? You go off n’ explore n’ talk to people and socalise like the fuckin’ problem sovler you are; but what about me? Do I gotta wait fer you all th’ time? Should i jus’ wander around tryna occupy myself? What else do do here?”
Though, maybe it was unfair of him to ask Diethelm that question. He had never thought of life past the industries, in all honesty. What else would he want to do anyway? As far as his books had told him, tailoring was a dying profession (not that there were many people in this place who really needed one.) Other than that? What could he possibly do here to occupy himself? Read all the books in the library? Catagorise the treasure room by type and weight?
Unearth the ruined frame he knows is buried somewhere around here because he can feel it?
"What else can I do here?”
Study (if he could be arsed to) would require he leave this place. Travel would mean he’d leave. Anything would mean he’d have to leave. And it wasn’t fair that Diethelm was acting like his reluctance to settle in one place was… was paramount to a breakup or something! This guy might be fine with sitting in a castle for the rest of his life, but Destan sure as hell wasn’t.
Not to say, of course, the idea of settling down was bad. It was just being stuck here and unable to do anything that bothered him. Alot.
He huffs. Diethelm can see where this is headed and it just frustrates him. He crosses his arms and looks at Destan as if he’d expected some kind of different answer. It almost as if the other is trying to dodge his question in turn of self deprecation. He huffs through his nose again, brows knitting down.
"I want you to be here. I told you. I want to experience life with you by my side. As my love. But you’re so hung up on your own usefulness to see that, verdammt. You say things like you’ll get bored, or you’ll feel alone. Do you not there? And so what if you do. Then you find things to fill your time just as the rest of us do. You seem to think that if you’re not working and living at that place then you’ve lost what makes you useful."
He sighs now, his eyes averting to the side while he thinks.
"I want you to be here too… And I want you to want to be here. That’s all I wanted of any of you that I hold close to me. It just…” His eyes close and he shakes his head. It just seems like very few of you wanted the same thing.
"It’s just that you have to come to that conclusion on your own, if at all. Figure out where you want to be, Destan. And maybe you can let me know when you do. Because as of right now, it doesn’t seem like you know. It doesn’t seem like you have a reason to be here other then to placate me. To make me happy. But not to make yourself happy, in me."
He’s beginning to get frustrated and he puts it down to his inability to say shit without it being misunderstood. Goddamit.
"Yeah, nah, I get that bit. And hey, it sounds great to me; but other than bein’ at your side what else is there? What, m’ I expected to play house fer th’ next thirty, fourty years? At least there I get up n’ I got shit I gotta do, even if its somethin’ like runnin’ intel t’ other bases. Here… what would I be doin? Really?”
He would really like an answer to that one. ‘Cos as far as he can see ahead, there wasn’t really anything else that he would do by staying here. He’d just… be here.
"Bein’ close ain’t the problem!" He says, exasperated. "Th’ problem is, yeah, I’ll be here beside you but what else would I be doin’? Wanderin’ the castle tryna occupy myself? ‘Cos I sure as hell can’t do that fer th’ rest of m’ life. I gotta be doin’ somethin’. I need purpose. And yeah, that is th’ problem. It ain’t not fault ‘f yours, ‘f thats what y’ thinkin’.”
This was so much easier as a crustacean, whose only worries were to breed and grow and survive long enough to avoid the jaws of predators and die a natural death instead. You had direction.