breakaleginhalf | dataBURST: IC Inbox

"Coda still looks human-shaped," he says. He's not gonna pretend it's not obvious they both know Artemis's source. "That's not universal, they're actually pretty lucky. Most of us didn't get that. Bugsy's like. A bug. Shinobu's... just gonna be even more hot, actually, but I'm..." His voice suddenly turns breezy and relaxed, albeit patently faked: "I'm like halfway between Frankenstein and a werewolf. So."

And he drops the voice, sounding normal and tired again as he looks down at his tablet. "There's a way to let you see it, but there are... costs, kind of. Nothing major, not if you're just like. Sensible. But I can show you."

He'd been denied a list before, so he listens to that catalogue of names with as sharp an ear as possible. Four, then, and Bugsy being one of them at least explained a few things that had happened the other day.

As much as any of this explained anything. In the back of his mind there's a part of him that still thinks magic and fairies and people who don't look like themselves because of magic spells is fucking inane. It's gibbering along while he tries to take this all in, so he closes his eyes to try and get a handle on himself -

-but he just sees something from the memory again, overlaid and entwined with the beating he'd taken.

He opens them, and looks at Gil. Or at what he thinks is Gil.

Fuck.

"-Do you want to?"

"I mean." His ears flick a little, as he looks up at Artemis. Even sitting, with most of Gil's height in his torso, Artemis's head is still higher than his. "I kind of owe you an explanation. And that's the only way I can really think that you'll, like. Actually believe it."

He puts his tablet away. "I know how stupid it all sounds. Dying but not being dead, all the scars and the... the weird shit." He gives a mild huff. "Frankly I wouldn't believe it either, if it hadn't happened to me."

"I've had some time to get used to the idea, but you're right. This is all batshit insane." And he wants an explanation, even if he's not really certain why Gil thinks he owes one. Gil got the worst day of his life; as far as Artemis is concerned, it's an even trade.

He's not going to tell Gil that, though.

"What does it cost?"

"A drop of blood and a promise you can't refuse. And that's not, like- I'm holding you to that and expect you to, if you don't fulfill it magic karma's gonna get your ass."

He leans back and rests his head against the wall; the cool plaster on the backs of his ears is nice. "I'll need to go and get something for it first, though. So we can do this in like, an hour."

"Magic... karma." Unlike the regular kind, which Artemis thinks is probably biting him in the ass for keeping giant secrets right now. "What kind of promise?"

"My discretion." He stares evenly back at Artemis, not giving anything away.

Artemis stares back for a long time, biting his lower lip. On the one hand, he's not stupid enough to think it's a good idea to give someone who's already an ill-defined kind of non-human a favor with no limits. On the other, it's not as if he usually has limits, and he is very curious indeed.

Finally he breaks their little stare off and looks down at his bandaged hand instead.

"Will you make me hurt anyone?"

"What?" Gil blinks. "No, God no. Honestly I'm probably just gonna make you tell me about your memory. I can't stress enough what a big thing this is in my world."

He stands up again, wiping his hands on his pants again. "I need to head out though, we need a rose for it - a proper one, not those bloody thorn fucks." He looks back at Artemis still sitting. "You're gonna be okay while I'm gone, right? It'll be like ten minutes."

"-Alright." It's the first time Artemis has ever agreed to anything like that, other than the aborted attempt to explain some things to Rich in the middle of a panic attack, but ... well, he did think karma was coming to bite him in the ass on that one, and here it is. He draws his other knee up to rest his chin on and shows no signs of moving.

"A rose. Sure." Because that might as well be a thing, right? "I'm not going anywhere."

Which isn't, strictly speaking, the same thing as alright. But it's close.

Well, shit. If he's gonna just offer that information voluntarily maybe Gil will hold onto that favour after all. Just in case.

Still, true to his word he's gone and back in about half an hour (which, between the entire fucking bullshit maze nature of Svelte, and needing to field those texts he sent earlier, feels justified) with a single red rose in hand as he closes the door behind him again. Part of him almost feels inclined to lock it so there's less chance of this being interrupted somehow, but that's mostly just paranoid.

"Okay, uh." He looks up from his purchase to Artemis. "We're gonna have to prick ourselves on it for this to work, but I promise this is just a normal fucking flower. The guy spent five minutes trying to convince me to buy algothorns instead."

When he gets back, Artemis is in the same position, but he's kicked off his boots and moved to the middle of the couch. He'd put on leather gloves and finished cleaning up the damn thorns because he does not want a repeat of any of this ever again, but that had only taken a few minutes. After that he couldn't find it in himself to do anything but wait for whatever was coming.

He glances up at Gil through the hair covering his reddened eyes and doesn't smile.

"It better be. I think we've had more than enough of those."

Edited (i'm good at formatting as well as writing words) 2021-04-20 10:20 (UTC)

The urge is real to just... throw the rose away and give Artemis a break. Or a hug. This was a lot, all at once.

Instead, he makes himself step forward, and get down on one knee in front of Artemis. The position would be hilarious if not for the circumstances, but he also wants to get away again easier if Artemis freaks out.

"For a moon and a day, I'll show you how to see the truth. Of what I am, and what 'what I am' means. And all you have to do, is not tell anyone that doesn't already know." His voice is calm, steady with an even, practiced intonation. "Swear on your name that you'll keep your side of the deal - or you'll wish you hadn't."

He lifts the rose, tilting it demonstratively so he can show how he's piercing his finger with it, and lets a drop of blood drip on the rose. "I, Gil Ryanson, swear on the old magic to uphold my side of this deal and protect you from harm where I've revealed it to you."

And he tilts the rose towards Artemis.

Artemis, at least, doesn't want a break. He straightens himself up and plants his feet on the floor, at least trying to look more put-together about the entire thing than he feels. He doesn't smile at the position, either, though the thought crosses his mind - maybe later, when all of this feels less immediate and terrible, he'll have something terrible to say about Gil on his knees.

He clears his throat, unsure of himself but unwilling to falter, and speaks steadily. "I, Artemis Hart, swear on my name that I'll keep my side of the deal - or wish I hadn't."

He reaches out a hesitant hand to the rose and rests his thumb at the tip of it for just a moment before he plunges it down hard and then brings it up to make sure his blood mingles on the petals.

Gil's eyes watch the drop of blood join with his on the rose, and grips the stalk a little tighter as he takes a deep breath, and burns the Glamour to, quite literally, seal the deal.

The lights flicker overhead, and Artemis's heart will suddenly race, like he's on the edge of terror again - and with it comes a horrible, disorienting sense of vertigo, of being tied to something bigger than he could possibly understand.

Then the lights settle back into their steady glow, his racing heart calms and the dizziness recedes - and Gil, taking a step back to put the rose down on the table, looks different. A generous description might be 'werewolf', but the bat-like ears are huge, twitching to point in Artemis's direction when Gil turns his attention back. The scars he could see before are thicker, more numerous, but also smothered by the silky fur, so brown its almost black and covering every portion of Gil's being. Thick juts of what can only be a mane stick out from his collar and arm holes, chopped down inexpertly and raggedly. His arms are too long, thick hands hanging somewhere near his knees - and his legs are misshapen, goat-like with the cloven hooves instead of proper feet, and side-on like this, the bulge of a tail is visible down one pant leg.

But the biggest difference is his face: it's no longer human, instead something between a bear and a squared, hyena-like muzzle, with jutting, grotesquely sharp teeth in a too-square jaw. The only thing that still looks human are his eyes - and the irises are still blood red, but the pupils are slit now, dilate as they watch Artemis with open apprehension.

Artemis takes a deep breath with him, completely unsure of what to expect and wishing he'd asked for a little more information -

But then he's swept up into the sensation of being one tiny, insignificant piece of a giant whole that has never before cared that he existed. Maybe it was better that way, to go unnoticed, but his soul still stands up and demands to be heard. If that makes a difference or not, he doesn't know, because then he's back on the couch and staring at Gil.

He's staring at Gil, in the lines of familiar scars and body language he's spent the last few weeks learning. He's staring at Not-Gil, a predator that could kill him in one bite sitting two feet away. It's impossible not to be afraid, at least for a moment, but it's equally impossible to stay that way when the eyes staring back at him are so human. So full of a recognizable emotion.

So Artemis takes another deep breath and lets himself study the changeling in front of him intently, silently, until he can put on a half-smile that he almost feels.

"Hey there, short stuff."

Gil's ears twitch, reflexive and immediate, at the sudden turn in Artemis's Glamour, and a matching fear grips him-- maybe this was a horrible mistake, maybe he's just going to lose it completely and it's all Gil's fault, shit--

But then it fades. Just a little, just enough for Artemis to put on a smile, and Gil can't help but grin back, ears perking up instantly - even his fur seems to deflate a little, as he winds down from the fight-or-flight he'd psyched himself up for, in pure unadulterated relief.

~~In terms of instant relief, cancelling plans is like crack.~~

"Hey to you too, string bean," he comments right back, and his voice is different too. Before he was perfectly clear, albeit a deep, Tom Waits-style rasp, with perhaps a touch of overenunciation - it's easier to understand why now, when a soft growl seems to underline every word he says, as he drops the rose on the table and moves to the other side of the couch. His muscles are less visible now, beneath the fur, and the shape of his legs is a little jarring compared to a proper human - almost satyr-y - and he flops very bodily onto the sticking-out-long-part of the couch, cushioning his arms under his chin. "Feel free to look closer, you only have a month," he adds wryly.

Artemis' eyes track the way Gil's ears move, curiously, trying to work out if he's reacting to some kind of unheard sound or something else. He's not an expert on nonhuman body language; the only things with ears he's ever been around were simulations, as unreal as anything in Svelte. The way all of him literally perks up, though, that seems easy enough to read.

"Awfully cocky to think I'd want to look at you for a month," he says; it comes out a little breathy, because the sound of that growl's sent his heart pounding again. He shifts around on the couch, drawing a leg up so that he can face Gil rather than craning his neck to keep up the staring. "This is... really what you look like all the time under whatever that is?"

He doesn't say magic spell, just barely.

That just makes Gil laugh, a soft wheezing noise; it's not even that funny, he's still just almost dizzy with relief.

"Yeah, this is the real me. I used to look like what you saw, like-- actually human, I mean, not that jacked. I was kind of a fat guy." But that's just getting distracted. "The scars and, like. This-ness," with a broad gesture at himself, "I've only been for like, nine months, officially?"

Nine months. What Artemis saw was nine months ago, and Gil's walking around like he's fine? It's hard - almost impossible - to believe, and Artemis wants to demand to know what the hell the secret to that is. He keeps his lips pressed together, though, and holds up his hand again as he had to examine the scars.

"Can I -?"

"Yeah, of course." He'd like to stay flopped but he forces himself to swing his legs back around and off the couch, so he's sitting facing Artemis again. "Just be careful with the ears, they're sensitive."

Artemis leans forward, and despite Gil's warning he is going right for the ears. He's gentle, at least, and more than a little careful to avoid his arm brushing tooth or snout in the process.

"-This is so fucking weird." Like he took something experimental, or he's dreaming. "I already have a hard enough time convincing myself anyone in this place is real..."

Both ears twitch sharply back at the first touch, almost flicking Artie's fingers as Gil grimaces, but after a few seconds they relax again. Still stiff to the touch, and try to flick again while Artemis is holding them, but now that they're in his hands they're remarkably soft. Velveteen fur ghosts across their semi-opaque surface, veins and scars both gently distorting the otherwise smooth shapes; and the more time he spends playing with them, the more the tension left in Gil's form starts to melt.

"Yeah, I was the same after coming out, to be honest. Took a while to, uh. Believe this was what I am now."

"And - what is that?" Artemis can't help but notice the relaxation as his hands skim over the surface of Gil's ears, light but not light enough to tickle. He doesn't stop, though the weirdness doesn't really lessen. "I still don't... I mean, I know you're a changeling. But."

But obviously that means a little more than he'd realized.

"A changeling is someone who gets kidnapped by the Fair Folk and escapes to talk about it." Perhaps a little more candid than he intended, but those ear rubs are doing things. "We, uh. Don't always get out. I nearly didn't. That memory you saw, it..."

His ears flick in Artemis's grip, not enough to escape but a distinct motion like they were going to press back. "...nearly broke me. I escaped not long after."

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