anothercontinuity | (no subject)

Nothing good.

[ Lucanis pauses, a mild furrow of curiosity appearing against his brow. Again, he's struck by that reminder that 'common' knowledge can't be something he assumes Tony will know. ]

Here, a demon is...a spirit. Non-corporeal creatures who dwell in the Fade, who watch our world and shape themselves according to what they observe in us, through the Veil. Echos of our mortal passions.

[ Gently, he takes some of that fresh elfroot potion to salve over the jagged cuts. ]

Compassion, envy, justice, pride, wisdom, desire... They become the embodiment of whatever it is they have chosen to reflect, and they will do anything to fulfill that new purpose.

[ tony can feel a gentle pull on the wounds from lucanis tending to them, but the ache is numbed, distant still, easily overridden by listening to lucanis talk—same with the intermittent itching on his left. not for the first time, tony thinks of him, could've made a different kind of killing in voice work, which leads to thinking about home. back home he could've hooked lucanis up, gotten his foot into so many doors, showered him with gifts and wealth and prestige from people the world over, but here, in thedas?

focus. listen. ] What's your specific tag-along's hard-on for? [ whatever it is, however it may manifest, lucanis seems to have a tight lid on it. after tonight, tony...trusts him. ]

Edited 2024-11-24 17:59 (UTC)

He was a spirit of Determination. Until the Venatori drew him to this side of the Veil, against his will. Tortured him, twisted him against his purpose.

[ His jaw works briefly in sudden tension, but his touch remains careful. After examining the cuts, he sets to work rebinding them in clean bandages, fingers pressing to hold it taut as he wound the linen strips. ]

There were others, in that prison. All had demons forced inside of them and usually, within a week, the demon would manifest. Tearing out of them like some fleshy cocoon, to be blood-bound as you were and sent off to wherever they could do the most damage.

I heard them screaming as they transformed, in the other cells. One week passed. Then two. A month. A year. The Venatori could not understand why the demon had not manifested. They did everything they could to provoke it, to weaken my resolve, to force it to appear.

[ His lips quirk up slightly in bitter amusement. ]

They did not know Spite and I had already struck a bargain.

Edited 2024-11-24 18:12 (UTC)

[ tony guesses that can be seen as "worse than," a demon ripping you apart from the inside versus mindless, forced servitude. the latter you can come back from. (a kernel of truth, a thought deep down: he'd rather be torn apart.) still, he got lucky. none of that happened. lucanis freed him. tony only had to endure one night. not a whole year. ]

Bargain that's still in effect? [ it makes sense, if the demon embodies spite: a giant "fuck you" to their captors to not manifest as they wanted. what's stopping it—him now? ]

It is. But he can be...noisy, at times.

[ With the other arm wrapped, Lucanis gives Tony a once-over before letting out a quiet 'ah'.

The towel is reached for yet again. ]

Lift your chin for me, please.

[ tony obeys without question or hesitation. doesn't even think about it. ]

Sounds annoying.

[ A soft, rumbling chuckle. ]

At times? Very.

[ The towel dabs itself gingerly against that cut on his throat, where the Venatori witch had pressed her blade. Luckily it didn't go too deeply, only enough to draw blood in the first place. No bandage needed here, just the salve. ]

He's stronger when I sleep, so...I try to stay awake, as much as possible.

[ the corner of tony's mouth twitches faintly upwards. there's little trace left of tension anywhere in him, even with lucanis's hand working around his throat. ]

Should I worry?

Edited 2024-11-24 20:48 (UTC)

About sharing a house with an abomination?

[ His lips quirk a little higher, thumb slowly applying the minty-smelling balm over the cut before letting his eyes drift upwards.

There, one more cut, along his cheek. It requires leaning in, ever so slightly, to get a better look in the dim light. ]

I've taken precautions. And we agreed that you were not to come to harm, for what the word of a demon may be worth to you.

[ head easily moved or tilted by a word, gesture, or touch (being nudged around by make-up artists and stylists is old hat), tony watches lucanis unabashedly. ]

It's worth enough.

[ Again, his thumb runs along the edge of the cut, a little deeper than the one on his throat. Still, it should heal without even scarring, which should please Tony. He's aware the man prizes his looks, and for good reason.

For a moment his gaze shifts towards Tony's, locking in place. It's an odd thing, knowing that someone finally sees you. Usually its a look reserved for the last moments of a target who never saw him coming. This is...not quite that. ]

Good to know.

[ Quietly, before moving his hand away. ]

So. Food, or sleep?

[ tony's mouth pinches tighter at one end in what might be a half-smile, the same cheek lucanis touched dimpling, but whatever thoughtful stillness that seized him vanishes the moment lucanis asks food or sleep. tony launches back into his usual animated talk and gestures. the heaviness underlying everything since his rescue, since the night he brought that lady back here, also disappears. ]

Uh, I'm actually thinking destruction first, [ he says and waggles the blood vial between his fingers. ] How 'bout it? Smash it to pieces? Crush it in half? Got options.

Smashing it would work...although it will be messy.

[ Dryly, as he gestures for Tony to place it where he likes.

The table is sturdy enough to take whatever he does to it, and it will give him a moment to clear away the first aid supplies in the meanwhile. ]

It's not as though we don't have the means to clean up bloodstains, in this house.

[ tony interjects, "oh, good. i like messy," and then stands and turns to the table. he surveys the area and two tools before he gulps down the rest of the water, sets it aside with "that's done," and fits the neck of the vial into the pliers' pipe grip. the vial held in place by gripping the pliers, tony taps the hammer against the glass twice in two different spots.

he raises it, holds that pose, and tilts his head over to lucanis. ] Might wanna clear the blast zone quick. I don't like waiting, [ he warns and raises the hammer higher like a threat. ]

Edited 2024-11-25 02:16 (UTC)

[ Lucanis gestures for him to continue, taking a step back. It wouldn't be the first time his leathers have gotten blood on them, but he appreciates the consideration all the same.

Flying glass is no one's friend. ]

[ maybe five seconds pass, no more, as tony stares at the vial and his sudden theatrics just as suddenly die down. this...this vial gave delphine power over him. he doesn't understand how besides magic, but that doesn't matter right now because now he's the one with power over it. the fury from before builds, cold in his chest. tony uses it as fuel.

he slams the hammer down. hears the glass shatter, the initial impact that he closes his eyes against and the tinkling of pieces scattering. pretty sure one shoots off somewhere to the side. ]

Edited 2024-11-27 18:14 (UTC)

[ At least one catches on Tony's cheek, though he's not sure the man has noticed. But he can see the telltale glint on his cheek even in this light.

With a hum, Lucanis closes the distance, reaching up to swipe that fleck of glass off, safely away from his eye. ]

...and done. You're free once more.

[ the blood splattered. rendered inert, it fell in a jagged arc and dappled the head of the hammer. some of it was flung across his wrist, too, but it splattered normally. no swirling.

after a glance at the touch, tony nods and agrees, ] Done, [ and drops the tools on the table. stepping back from it, he purses his mouth at the cuts on his right arm. ]

Edited 2024-11-28 17:02 (UTC)

[ It's not quite right, is it? The effect of something like that, it lingers. But he's found keeping busy the key to Not Thinking About It, and Tony seems a kindred spirit in that regard.

With a brief nod, Lucanis moves to pick up the kit he'd brought with him. The table can be scrubbed down, too, bits of glass picked out of the carpet. Tedious, but...Tony had needed that.

In the meanwhile: ]

Go wash up. I'll make us something to eat.

Good plan, [ tony whispers. with one last glimpse at the vial's remains, he wipes his wrist and hand off on his trousers and slowly lets his right arm hang.

leaving becomes easier after the initial few steps. tony regains some momentum: onto the next objective. ] Back in a bit! [ he calls over his shoulder. ]

[ By the time Tony returns, the table's been cleaned. There's a glass and a bottle of brandy, and a fresh cup of coffee at the chair across from him. Between them, a bottle of oil and a bottle of dark vinegar, small plates, and a basket of warm bread.

From the kitchen, there's the quiet sound of humming, a soft simmering, and the scrape of wooden utensils against the edge of a pot.

From the sound of it, it's getting close to done. ]

[ tony puts forth some amount of effort to keep the bandages dry, but occasional splashing and dipping is inevitable. out of the bath, he dries off, slicks back his hair, and shaves. ankle-high boots, breeches, and a loose-fitting olive green tunic chosen, he folds the sleeves up to his elbows on his return to the dining room. maybe the bandages will dry quickly. the mild itching on and off is already...irritating enough.

the dining room is empty of demon-harboring assassins. tony flicks a curious glance to the kitchen's doorway, but stops by the spot he thought the glass and blood might still be covering and picks up his hammer. the table, the pliers, the hammer: all of it cleaned. meticulously. a bit of food and drink neatly left out, too, reminiscent of how he sometimes finds meals here ready for him.

after another glance at the doorway, tony leaves the hammer behind and enters the kitchen proper. ] Didn't know you cooked, [ he observes coolly and leans his hip on the door frame. ]

[ He hears the footsteps approaching, though his focus remains on the sauce. A few moments more and the heat can be reduced, allowing for him to plate them each a generous helping, the pasta resting in a delicate swirl of butter and freshly-cracked pepper. ]

As a boy, I used to sneak into the kitchens to help the staff, between lessons.

[ Lucanis's lips quirk at the corners. ]

Mostly because I wanted to find out how to make churros, whenever I wanted.

[ he's so...honest. all tony needs to do is pull a lever and lucanis dispenses some tidbit about himself or his inner workings like a roulette machine rigged in tony's favor. ] Well...smells good.

[ Perhaps too honest for an assassin. Or perhaps that inevitability of his acquaintance lets him be more candid than most. ]

Good. Glad to hear you've kept your appetite.

[ And he turns from the stove, offering Tony his plate ]

Cacio e pepe. It should go easy on your stomach.