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croupiex · 2 years
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i was a child and she was a child, in this kingdom by the sea,
cassius is not so dissimilar from his mother.
he’s a stranger to himself, reflected in every mirror he passes and fabricated from an unnervingly recognisable exhausted vacancy that his mother had adopted before she too, became a stranger to cassius. yet unlike his mother, there were no pills that made cassius this way. there were no pills that forced cassius to empty himself until all that remained was a rotten void.
his mother had purged cassius’ body of his heart long ago, but even now that toxicity continues to fester, corroding him from the inside out. perhaps this is what they mean when they refer to the power of a ‘mother’s touch’ – the way cassius’ absent mother has made him the man he is today, worthless and utterly so.
indeed, he is as unworthy as his mother has shown him to be, has proven him to be.
(cassius is nothing if not his mother’s son).
but we loved with a love that was more than love— i and my annabel lee—
cassius is not so dissimilar from his father.
for as much as he positions his mother near the inception of the magnitudinal emptiness that dictates his existence, it is his father that lies at the centre of it, waiting to pull cassius off the precipice of resilience into resigned defeat. and it would be a lie for cassius to say that he had not fallen to the addictive song of his father’s ghost, a haunting siren nestled at the pit of an inescapable crevasse.
indeed, he is as insignificant as his father has taught him to be, has contorted him to be.
(cassius is nothing if not his father’s son).
and so here cassius stands, emptiness incarnate; forged within a never-ending strata of deteriorated vile rot.
with a love that the wingèd seraphs of heaven coveted her and me.
cassius’ lungs burn as he looks down into the ocean below, an involuntary memory prickling at the back of his throat as he catches himself mid-gasp in a desperate breath for air. years later and he can still remember the ache in his arms as they struggled to keep his head afloat, to keep himself alive. now, looking back, death doesn’t seem like such a terrible choice. if cassius had drowned all those years ago his head would have been blissfully silent, the incessant thoughts that crowd his mind today extinguished under the roaring waves of the ocean.
but cassius was a coward then, too afraid of dying to simply fall immobile and let the waves wash over him.
today, even as cassius steps off the dock, he is still a coward.
and this was the reason that, long ago, in this kingdom by the sea, a wind blew out of a cloud, chilling my beautiful annabel lee;
perhaps that is why cassius is running away – adorned in a heavy weather-wearing cloak with a gifted satchel of gold and platinum coins tied at his hip.
(emmeline had kissed his temple that very morning, softly and caringly in a way that he both hated and loved. she had murmured adoring promises into his ear as she tightened a glorified collar around his neck, reminding him that a dog must always heel when called, no matter the distance. cassius briefly wonders if it is emmeline that understands cassius best in this world as only she had recognised that he could no longer stay in a place like this when he himself had been blind to the fact).
too much a coward to die, all that is left for cassius is to run.
(there’s a glimmer of a question at the back of his mind, wondering, perhaps even hoping that the few remaining people cassius cared about would notice his absence: nothing of the human’s presence left but an abandoned apartment and a messily written letter).
he has no destination in sight, no notion of what may lay beyond the watery depths below and ahead – but cassius has never needed a destination, not when he had never imagined a future for himself to begin with.
so that her highborn kinsmen came and bore her away from me,
if cassius has failed to impose silence over the cacophony of his own thoughts, then perhaps cassius must learn to live with them instead. for cassius is desolate hollowness embodied, and that will never change because cassius is perpetually “just a human, an insignificant human – irrelevant to the gods and the stars up above”. there is nothing left for cassius, nothing left of cassius.
the ship rocks beneath cassius’ feet, protesting as crew and cargo are loaded onto its aged wooden planks.
cassius is running on empty, one step after another carrying him towards an uncertain future – but he’s lucky in that sense, because cassius is as empty as the fathomless ocean, so he will never lack in emptiness to propel him onward.
to shut her up in a sepulchre in this kingdom by the sea.
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croupiex · 3 years
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it was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea,
to an outsider, their entangled limbs might read as intimate, romantic even; cassius’ head tilted up by the beckoning of emmeline’s firm grip along his jawline as she pressed a half-melted chocolate treat between his lips. his eyes are cast downwards and away, shadowed in the dim lighting offered by the year’s final setting sun.
that a maiden there lived whom you may know by the name of annabel lee;
(he briefly wonders if luke is spending the new years alone, if he had spent his birthday alone. but the thoughts don’t last long, because what a stranger does is none of his business, not really).
and this maiden she lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me.
the chocolate is the perfect balance of sweet that emmeline knows he likes, and it tastes even sweeter when he licks away the melted remnants from her fingers, taking her hand in his and pressing fleeting kisses to the back of her hand. if he wanted, cassius could live like this forever; mind fogged with no other thoughts than a heady desire to worship and be worshipped.
the angels, not half so happy in heaven, went envying her and me—
“tonight is a night of celebration… shall I be kind and treat you gently cassius?”
the human pauses at that, lips momentary stilted against the strongarm’s smooth skin. her offer had caught him off guard, embedded within it a prospect of an outcome cassius doesn’t desire, not from emmeline. and cassius thinks she knows this too, simply wishes to hear him confirm that he wants her to break him apart in that methodically sadistic way that only she knows how.
he doesn’t look up when he admits, “no”.
“your manners?”
“please no”.
yes!—that was the reason (as all men know, in this kingdom by the sea)
cassius doesn’t need to see her to know that his answer has satisfied her. he can hear the smile in her voice even before she grips his jaw and forces cassius to look her in the eyes, eyes gazing down at him, ever so endeared by the human’s humiliation, “good boy”.
that the wind came out of the cloud by night, chilling and killing my annabel lee.
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croupiex · 3 years
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wallflower, blooming
lukef​:
the situation is awkward, but he still has to smile about the other’s comment. “very responsible to leave a bar with an almost stranger, too.” an almost stranger. given how much he’s changed in the past years, he can call himself that. strangers, but not quite. there’s still comfort lingering around the air as soon as they’re together, but that could also be because cassius is very drunk and everything that occurs in his mind also leaves his lips a second after. the small snickering into his neck makes goosebumps rise on his skin. he simply hopes the human doesn’t notice. “though it might be not very responsible that i’m keeping you warm and safe.” he mutters back.
the words that leave cassius lips next make him pause. he stops walking in the direction of his apartment and looks at the wolf for a second. the wolf looks back at him, then slowly distances themself from the two men and lights the way into a darker alley. “you’re talking nonsense.” he continues walking, follows the wolf into the right direction. “you hate yourself, and i l- and i mi- for fuck’s sake.” he stops talking and focuses on walking again. since the human keeps fidgeting that doesn’t seem like a bad idea at all.
“my phoenixes?” memories of the time where they were best friends flood through his brain and a small smile curls around his lips. “they’ve gotten way more impressive.” luke stops holding him with both hands and uses one of his hands to call the wolf back, before he transforms the flames into a large phoenix. the wings move a little wonkily, but compared to the non-moving phoenix he produced years ago, it really is quite impressive. the phoenix follows the ashy tracks of the wolf and lights up more than just the ground. someone opens a window to complain but stops as soon as they see the origin from the light. the area is a little poorer and it’s obvious that luke is a well trained elementalist, someone that could easily wipe out this whole sleeping area if he wanted to. but he doesn’t want to. and that is the point. 
“wait until you see the elephants. i’ve studied african wildlife during my absence. the other continents animals do get quite impressive.”
There’s an odd sort of normalcy to the way they’re interacting right now, an aspect of this interaction that almost allows Cassius to forget that Luke had left him three years ago without a single word. The realisation had hurt at first, a bruising grip of unanswered questions and lingering feelings of betrayal that were later accompanied by a quiet numbness that only sought to soundlessly weaken what few defences he had to protect him from the pre-existing internal rot that was eating away at his insides. Now three years wiser and continually self-destructive, Cassius knows why Luke had left in the way that he had – Luke hated him.
It was a simple answer to a simple question.
Luke must have seen something in Cassius that day (the day Cassius had rejected Luke, the last day Cas had seen Luke for three years), something that opened the man’s eyes to just how awful Cassius truly was. (“I’d ruin you”). And, well, Cassius can’t blame Luke. It was his own fault for getting so close, for thinking that Luke could be a healing remedy to the branding his father’s words had burnt into his skin over the years (just a human, an insignificant human – irrelevant to the gods and the stars up above).
It’s this understanding of their relationship that makes Luke’s current actions all the more puzzling to Cassius’ inebriated brain. His own grip is tight around Luke’s neck, unknowingly falling into old patterns as he tucks his head against the crook of Luke’s neck, watching the fiery phoenix dance before them. The bird is beautiful, even after all these years. Three years of absence. Three years spent as if they had never met in the first place. Three years spent missing someone he had never met, needing someone that he no longer knew. So after all these years, why had this stranger appeared in his life once more? It’s the only question that Cassius can’t fully answer.
So he asks.
“Lukey,” the petname is unintentional, slips from his mouth so quickly that Cassius doesn’t even get a chance to fluster, unaware that it had even been uttered in the first place, “why did you come back?”
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croupiex · 3 years
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wallflower, blooming
lukef​:
one look at cassius and all he sees is him. the person he left without a word three years ago. suddenly he feels stupid, stupid for leaving him like this, stupid for doing the worst thing he could have done. he knew that cassius felt something, something he wasn’t ready for. and by leaving he probably proved the other that his decision had been a good one. he should have stayed. he really should have.
“oh, there’s commands now?” he mutters to himself before slowly complying to what cassius is asking for. luke waits for whatever cassius is planning and is surprised by a sudden chokehold. for a second he thinks the other is actually trying to choke him, but he decides to let the other have his angry moment, until- “take responsibility for what now? not my fault you’re hanging around diamond territory.” luke knows it’s a reproach. it has to be. but he doesn’t comment on it, he simply pays for everything and carries the human out of the bar. “is it fine with you if you’re staying at mine tonight? you can have the bed, i take the couch or something. i really do not want to walk to your apartment.” his hands wrap around cassius thighs to help him stay put, but even that small touch feels disrespectful, as if he’s crossing some boundaries he shouldn’t cross. he closes his eyes for a moment and simply doesn’t think of the moment as them both searching comfort in the other, as them holding onto each other, but as cas simply being drunk and him being helpful.
the streets are dark and there’s a small part in him that still wants to impress cassius, so he lets the mana flow through his fingers and watches as something that comes close to a dog or a wolf forms next to them. luke makes it true to size, so it lights up the way enough for him to see everything. “they’re your favorite, aren’t they?” luke asks to break the silence, makes the dog (or rather wolf) run a little, lighting up a dark alley before they pass through. “they used to be, at least.” i still care, he wants to add. let me step into your life again.
“Taking me home after such a short conversation? You really do take responsibility seriously Mr. Parker”. Cassius snickers into Luke’s neck as if he’s told a rather amusing joke. (luke still smells the same, peppered lemons and ocean driftwood). It isn’t really that funny, not when they both know that no true underlying insinuation could be sewn from Luke’s words.
Eyelids heavy from inebriation, the human lets them fall shut, trusting and knowing that he’ll never be anything but safe with Luke – safe from everything but himself. Because even when faced with the light of Luke’s fire Cassius’ shadows still manage to firmly wrap their insidious tendrils around him, always threatening to pull him away and down into that familiar inescapable darkness. Perhaps if Cassius closed his eyes long enough he wouldn’t have to awake to the same reality he’s been living in for the past three years. But that’s nothing but wishful thinking, and Cassius doesn’t believe in making wishes anymore. Indeed, even this moment of reprieve doesn’t last long. Sensing a new, moving source of light, Cassius opens his eyes, bearing witness to a familiar fire-crafted animal.
At the sight of the wolf the thin thread of logic stringing Cassius’ thoughts together starts to untangle even more as his mind jumps from association to association, from comforting flames to the burning itch of self-loathing beneath his skin. Bitter self-directed resentment curls at the corners of Cassius’ mouth as he looks away and buries his face closer to Luke’s neck, nosing against the small hairs at the base of the elementalist’s nape, breath warm as Luke’s skin and words almost a little wet, but not quite. “You know what I realized Lukey? I think I’m sad – and isn’t that just so funny? Sad and lonely when I don’t even have a right to be sad because I’ll never change”. There’s no point in saying these words out loud, not when the entire world has known since day one that Cassius has always been this pathetic. Miserable and unchanging. “Gods, I hate myself”. There’s no point in saying these words out loud, unprompted as they are.
It takes Cassius a few beats to retrace the frayed string of his own thoughts back into their familiar banter, back into unexposed safety and away from his stained confession. What was it that Luke had asked again? Ah, yes, the fire. “I’ve always liked your phoenixes more”.
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croupiex · 3 years
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“is this your card?”
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croupiex · 3 years
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A TALK ABOUT LOVE
mallickshah​:
Mallick gives a slow nod and a light shrug. 
“Glad to know you understand that, I just had to throw it in for good measure.” He said the last bit with a smile, but Mallick was nothing if assessing what this truly meant for Cassius’ and the bruises he’d once caught a while ago. Not just once too. But Cassius had always been careful after the first slip up, maybe because Mallick had asked that first time and the answer had made sense at first, but not truly the second time. If he had to be honest with himself though, the place where he’d caught the blemish had not particularly fit with the story Cassius had thrown as an excuse then. Mallick might have just wanted to believe that this could not be anything drastic. How many times had he caught himself in the line of fire with what was not considered as unreasonable violence in this faction? Too many to count.
But Cassius was not of Clubs, surely they had better laws to protect their citizens even if they were humans back in Diamonds? Maybe that was something he should start looking into, Diamond’s actual laws, not the ones he’d barely skimmed, but the ones that left people like Cassius unprotected by them. He couldn’t possibly leave his own faction to the ruins, but he could handle gathering as much information as he could while managing his own load. An idea all prompted by the way his eyes caught yet another bruise, but Mallick swiftly averted them, by now, he did not wish to alert Cassius of where his thoughts might be going. It would be better to play along, it might be safer for Cassius too. 
That was what was important, “Well for one you’re not safe in that type of relationship. It all goes so wrong so quickly.” 
Mallick had known self-destruction, The Resistance had stood place as his partner in that road for many years. But before it’d destroyed him, it had inadvertently shown him that this wouldn’t have been what the person he was dying for would have wanted. He could read it in between the lines of Cassius’ question, there’s something there that scares him concerning Cassius’ future. Because if this is what the young man believes to be his ultimate truth, it will lead to his ultimate demise and Mallick cannot impede it. In the end, the fate of one could only be nudged and influenced, never controlled. Fate was like love in that sense, was it not? Yet people accepted fate a lot easier than they did the latter. It was quite strange. 
“I don’t think being with someone you don’t love is wrong, many families still arrange unions, for power, for money, for personal affairs. So to not love someone you decide to stay with is not wrong Cassius. It’s the reasons for it that can make a lot of sense, or little to no sense. I wouldn’t want any of my brothers being with a partner that did not keep them safe even if they didn’t love them. Why live at all, if all it is good for is to get hurt? Even worse if intentionally.”
Was that truly the only purpose Cassius sought in life? To die miserably because he’d decided that was his fate and it was all the worth it had in store for him? Mallick’s expressions turned solemn, that was the one thing it would all eventually lead to. Although Cassius being human meant death would claim him sooner than many others, it seemed that the young man had already started down a path that would prematurely grant him his last hour at any given time. But it was contradictory to the actions he would take and the care he would take to not show where he was getting hurt. Still, Mallick had to know. 
“Let me ask you something, do you wish for death?” 
cw; cassius shares some thoughts that are rather troubling and while not per-definition suicidal could be read as such
Cassius wonders if he would have been as wise as Mallick if he could have lived as long as the man. If he would be able to answer all the questions that currently haunt him with the same ease Mallick seems to possess. If by that age he would have been knowledgeable about love- what an impossible thought. (Yet in his own way, Cassius is knowledgeable about love. Implements his love for those he considers close in the way he hides his hurt, because he knows it would just as equally hurt those who were foolish enough to care for him too. But this is not something he understands as love, not yet at least).
“Let me ask you something, do you wish for death?”
“No”. That part of Cassius’ response comes quickly. The other half is slower, tentative with anxiously searching eyes as he watches Mallick’s expression for any shifts that might warn of a negative reaction. Why he’s half-expecting a negative reaction Cassius can’t be entirely sure of – but he’s always a little scared when he’s telling the truth, isn’t he? What the truth is and what it isn’t has become so muddled, a tangled mess of nonsensicals forcefully made logical, a brutal survival tactic. Cassius suffers because he deserves it. Cassius suffers because he needs it. Cassius suffers because he enjoys it. That’s the truth. “However… I don’t feel particularly attached to living”. He’s never told that to anyone before. (He’s never told a lot of things to anyone before). “Does that make sense?”
Hands clenching, his dirtied nails systematically dig into his palm again and again. Cassius looks away, too cowardly to face the disappointment he expects he’ll see on Mallick’s face at this confession. Because this particular truth of his is truly pathetic. Or maybe he’s just pathetic… not that it matters, everything that comes out of his mouth is worthless and deceitful. “I don’t want to die, but living… it’s exhausting, Mallick”. What is the purpose of Cassius confessing like this? Exposing the darkness inside of himself like this? Even when he speaks the truth, his truth is untrustworthy. Perhaps he’s just doing this for a semblance of comfort Cassius himself doesn’t believe he deserves.
“I can’t stand it- can’t stand myself. And sometimes the only solution to that problem is to pretend I don’t exist for a little while”. Emmeline, she’s so good at that. At making Cassius forget about himself and everything around him. Sure, sometimes she’s cruel. She’ll expose the dirt underneath Cassius’ skin without mercy, remind him of the toxicity that runs through his veins, bite and scratch all the right places to keep him in the moment so he might commit it to memory. But who is Cassius to complain? Out of the two evils, Emmeline is the better choice to make himself forget his own existence – he’d choose her every time over the little pills he watched his mother swallow and wither over.
It never occurs to Cassius that these two evils lead to the same self-destructive terminal.
Cassius feels like his skin is crawling, physically uncomfortable with the way he’s talked himself into a corner. His nails still dig into long-since scarred palms, eyes trained downward and pointedly away from Mallick, not even daring to look at the man’s shoes. Instead his gaze finds the roots of Saiyah’s tree, Saiyah’s tree that he’s all but desecrated from his presence alone. She didn’t deserve to have his rot under her shade. As always, it would have just been better if Cassius had smiled and lied. If he had mechanically curled the corners of his lips as he’s trained himself to do and told Mallick, ‘What a silly question Mallick, of course I don’t, of course I want to live’. He’s made a foolish mistake today.
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croupiex · 3 years
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extended viewing
zuihuojoui​:
There were few things enjoyable about Diamonds. The arts, a given, and that meant owning a box and frequent visits to the Palace. The connections created through that love of arts and need for theatre, then gave him few that did indeed did stretch his smile. They, the gift frim his love of the arts, they did sweeten the borough. 
But the faction still reeked of new money faux elite and lacking fashion sense. 
Still, apart from the arts there were small other things he enjoyed of the faction. One was the tiny sweet shop he frequented. Small and hidden in plain sight. No ridiculous statues or sculptures, no neon crystals, just a sole crest on the deep wood door and a business passed from generation to generation. Those who knew of the delights within, appreciate the skill and delectable treats, but refuse widespread talk of its existence, fearing others would descend and ruin the charm. 
Its with that mindset the front door to this shop was rarely used. It emptying right into the path of two well travelled streets and close enough to another intersection. Instead, patrons entered through the back, from down the alley, away from curious eyes. 
An annoyingly large stack of folders had sat on Joui’s desk, the Ace tipped his gaze to Uzuki, holding another half dozen. He had argued he didn’t expect quite this many for review and Uzuki’s gaze said enough. There was no way to say, it indeed was, without irritating his Lord and Uzuki did not intend to suffer that souring mood. Instead the trusted butler, called attention to the time and perhaps his palette deserved something cool and sweet, a nice touch after his lunch. 
Joui smiled, nodding as he eased from his chair, junior butler following him from the office with the jacket to his suit. Ivory, with golden dragons aside koi swimming aside the buttons. He smiled and exited through the back of the bank, parasol erected over his head by an attendant. The glistening of the rest of his white suit with similar golden details in the sun, catching the eye of few pedestrians but the casts of his guards quickly pulling their eyes away. Now was not the time to stare at the High Fae.
He walked humming a soft tune, hand extending to the attendant at his side, a scaled hilt fan given. Opened a scene of jumping koi and a water dragon resting, another dragon coiled around the wisteria tree gazing below were embroidered upon the silk. He fanned his face as he walked down the alley, fan doubling as partition from his glory and the masses. The guards lingered back, waiting for the High Fae to step within the doorway, while they watched at the top of the alley. Once he stepped in, they followed him down, then passed him at the counter, seating themselves adjacent to where he would sit, the same seat every time.
He ordered a hazelnut toffee creation, with white macadamia shavings a top in a fresh baked waffle cone. Lemon treats and chilled strawberry ices for the guards, grape ices for the attendants and caramel cream for the junior butler. The butler and attendants sat at the other side of the counter, the guards two seats behind the Ace, who gazed out the window, cone in his right, fan in his left, legs crossed and oh too pleased with himself to be lost in the sweet flavor. 
@croupiex
The Gods might not give a shit about Cas, but that’s fine. They seemingly do give a shit about someone else who enjoys the sweets at this shop, enough to keep the little business’ doors open all these years, and that is all that matters to Cassius. A hole-in-the-wall of an establishment, Cas had first discovered this place as a teenager, accidentally stumbling into the shop and leaving with his mouth all but watering. Eventually, once he had gained his freedom and a pocket of coins, Cassius had come back, taste buds graced with a sweetness they would never forget and would later seek out on a semi-regular basis (should his coin purse allow).
Today, eager and set on ordering as quickly as possible, the human makes a beeline for an open seat, paying little mind to other patrons in the shop. Upon reaching the counter, Cassius orders an obnoxiously decadent parfait, layers of fresh figs intermingled with bits of crunchy honey-toasted oat and vanilla bean soft serve, a tower of fresh seasonal fruit brimming over the rim of the parfait glass and topped with little specks of pretentious gold flakes. Now this is true luxury. True luxury well deserved considering he had just finished a night-long shift in Emmeline’s sheets. Bruises and scratches forgotten, the only thing that had been on his mind since he had left her home this morning was this sweets shop and their new seasonal parfait promotion. Emmeline’s errands could wait, this parfait could not.
Settled comfortably into his seat, the croupier visibly relaxes upon his first spoonful of the sweet treat, the tension in his shoulders melting much like any lasting awareness he had of the other patrons in the shop. “Oh fuck, that’s absolutely delicious”. It’s muttered under his breath as he goes in for another bite, heavily sighing in satisfaction following the second spoonful.
Now, Cassius isn’t a materialistic person by nature, but if there are two things that he can rely on to put him in a better mood it’s tailored clothing from his closet, and sweets from this shop. There’s no social ghosts to haunt him here, the shop blissfully absent of confusing fire elementalists and hard-to-read bosses. When he’s at this shop he can simply enjoy the taste of sweets on his tongue and partake in some leisurely people-watching, a relaxed form of entertainment in a way.
Luckily, Cas doesn’t have to wait long before his entertainment arrives as some pompous diamond flouncing across the road almost gets flattened by a speeding carriage. He snickers to himself as he watches the diamond’s expression morph into comic-like shock, having fallen onto their backside in an attempt to hastily avoid the almost-collision. However, the shock doesn’t last for long, the stranger staggering to their feet with a look of indignation and calling out indecipherable words to the long-gone carriage. It’s quite a sight, the diamond’s little gloved hands waving angry fists and their jewelled shoes stomping heatedly into the ground like a petulant child. This clearly couldn’t be a trained elementalist, as with a reaction like that they had probably meditated less than Cassius had, and Cassius had only pretended to meditate once or twice. (The entire process had felt rather nonsensical).
The croupier snorts, commenting to himself as he goes in for another bite of his treat, “Natural selection missed out on a great opportunity there, what a shame”.
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croupiex · 3 years
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wallflower, blooming
lukef​:
the first thing he notices is his jaw clenching. three years of absence and it takes two simple meetings for him to feel confusion around cassius again. it’s neither him drinking that angers him nor him having a small attitude, but the other’s ears slowly turning red. his fingers form into a fist and there’s a few moments where a suspicious crackling noise erupts from his fingertips. it’s gone as quick as it came.
leave. leaving. that’s all luke wants to do. leave.
wood splintering. he’s running and the fire is coming closer. why is he running from something he doesn’t have to be afraid of? he stops and turns to look into the fire. he sees-
when luke takes of his coat, the material of the jacket responds with a sizzling noise as it comes in contact with his hot hand. he takes money out of one of the inner pockets, puts it on the counter and turns to face cas after thanking the barkeeper. “you’re coming with me. i’ll make sure you get home safe.”
there’s nothing. only fire.
the elementalist throws the coat over his arm. cassius looks and he glares back, doesn’t even try to unclench his jaw. he doesn’t even know why he reacts like that, but it comes close to-
the fire stops and roars as good as fire can roar. he’s confused, steps closer. with feelings comes loss of control. he doesn’t want you and he made it clear. 
the feeling of betrayal. and suddenly, all the anger is gone. it’s just cassius, after all. just cassius. a crooked smile is plastered across his lips when he looks at the other for a second time. “you’re way too drunk to go home alone and-” luke stops talking. “..and..i mean, if there’s someone else i could get..that would take you home? like, if you have someone..” and he stops talking again. nonsense. freaking nonsense. idiot. idiot. idiot.
“let’s just get you out of here, hm?”
There’s a glimmer of poorly hidden anger in Luke’s gaze (even an inebriated Cassius could tell, to Cas, it’s always been easy to read Luke). The anger doesn’t scare him though. Cassius knew what it was like to be scared of Luke, the gut-wrenching realisation that came after knowing he had been scared of the person he trusts most. Maybe Cas’ survival instinct has simply fallen, getting repeatedly banged up by a strongarm had a way of changing one’s outlook on injuries. Or maybe it was just a fact, that even after three years, Cassius didn’t have to be scared of Luke. (Would never have to be scared of him).
“There’s no one like you… stupid”. It’s nothing but a drunken mumble, unfiltered messy half-thought-out feelings that Cassius isn’t intelligible enough to hide from the other man. It’s also most certainly not what Luke had been imploring. “Turn around,” the human demands, hands already nudging Luke’s side until the man’s broad back is facing him. And maybe Cassius takes a slow drunken second or two to admire the expanse of Luke’s broad back now that he’s close to it, but maybe he doesn’t – that’s up to his alcohol-addled brain to decide tomorrow once it sobers up.
Body heavy, Cas is anything but graceful when he wraps his arms around Luke’s neck, awkwardly reaching up from his seated spot on the barstool. He’s probably half choking the man when he squeezes the fire elementalist’s neck, almost endearingly insistent in his hazed logic, “Take responsibility for finding me like this, carry me home”. Take responsibility for leaving me all alone for three years. When Cassius looks back on this moment he’ll regret it, he’ll want to stuff all of his moronic words back into his own mouth, pull his hands back behind himself knowing that in this moment all he wanted was to see if Luke still felt warm and safe to him after all these years. But as it is now, all that matters to Cassius is the familiar warmth under his arms and hands, and none of the implications that come with it.
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croupiex · 3 years
Text
A TALK ABOUT LOVE
mallickshah​:
Mallick could only laugh, to think of the love he had for his wife as a disappointment because he lost her, that did bring about a chuckle or two. Then he shook his head slightly and let out a quiet sigh. Cassius definitely couldn’t begin to understand what disappointment truly felt like. If to lose someone you love only brought forth such an emotion, then he’d never felt it before, Mallick would not be surprised if it was the case because wasn’t the young man already building himself up to not getting what he thought he did not deserve? Go figure how he’d built this whole scheme of his and how he’d managed to keep at bay things that would eventually disappoint him. 
“Losing Saiyah devastated me.” Mallick had to correct this information first, leveling Cassius with a gaze of his own, a tad more solemn than usual, “Because I love her and that’s the frightening part with this emotion, we can lose the things and people we associate with it. We can lose many more things, but to admit that we love something or someone and to know it can one day end up leaving us, it’s terrifying, rightfully so.” This had nothing to do with the fairy tales Cassius believed to be false, the truth was, they were false. Mallick had never thought about love the way his parents had, but he’d believed that theirs could be attainable in his own way. 
It wasn’t until Saiyah, having her and losing her, that he’d understood what his mother had meant when he’d been younger and she’d spoken of how he would eventually come to understand; that what hurts us about loving people also makes us love them more. “But I can’t tell you that the fear is what guided me for as long as I was with Saiyah and the reason for that was because I expected nothing more and nothing else than to have this moment with her; the present we lived in.” It was a complex thing to try to explain and Mallick wanted to find the right words, but a lot of those right words were also borrowed from his parents’ wisdom, his grandparents’ legacy and his sibling’s silly recanting of these words when they’d had one too many pints. 
Mallick wanted to convey this to Cassius in a way that did not resemble the last image, he felt a frown as he thought about it, the main thing he’d noticed to bring about failure when it came to loving someone was expectations. “You have to let go of putting expectation on how you feel it, what I mean is,” He leaned forward, legs crossed and elbows leaning over his knees, “If you expect it to leave you, you fear it, if you expect it to never leave you, you obsess with losing it. If you never expect it to do anything else but be with you, without caring for everything else that stands against it or for it, then you simply find peace with it.”  
He held out three fingers and this time, a smile did cut through the serious way his features had suddenly been drawn into. “There are three important things to know about love; you cannot control it, you should not control it and you do not want to control it.” Mallick gave a light shrug, “But those are the Shah’s household rules, I’m not sure they apply to everyone else, they’ve been pretty solid in guiding me and my brothers in finding lifelong partners so far, so I’d say they could benefit you in the future, if that’s something you eventually want to find out for yourself.”
Because as much talk of love as one could have, Mallick was certain not everyone wanted to even begin to explore that unfamiliar territory. Most people he knew wanted to control the way they felt and to think of this one thing that no matter how much you tried to take a hold of, could easily slip away, break you apart, kill you and remold your entire life to its own whims and desires, it could scare away more than a couple of strong hearts. Mallick had just been raised to accept the conditions, so in a way, he’d been prepared for anything it would bring forth. The love story he’d had with Saiyah had not been a disappointment, he had and still cherished everything she gave him and he would never regret ever knowing her, ever loving her, ever losing her. 
“I have to say, if it’s easier for you to accept the way they hurt you, then you do not love them.”
The laugh startles Cassius, it’s like Mallick knows something he doesn’t – but that shouldn’t surprise him, now should it?
“Losing Saiyah devastated me”. If there’s one thing that Cassius prides himself in (admittedly, there’s quite a few), it’s that he’s perceptive. It’s what makes him so good at his job, he’s able to read people, play the game of social politics in such a way that the customers still remember their casino visit as enjoyable despite leaving short of a few coins they initially entered the establishment with. So used to façades and lies said with a smile, in moments like these, Cassius is all the more appreciative of Mallick. Sure, there’s a hint of something akin to sadness in Mallick’s gaze, but it’s truthful and genuine in a way Cassius rarely sees in Kadeu. Truthful even in the face of aching grief – an admirable quality that Cassius is certain he himself does not possess.  
“I love her”. Mallick still speaks in the present, as if the woman he loved isn’t long since gone cold, and it puzzles Cassius. Perhaps it’s because those from his past he’s unabashedly told ‘I love you’ have long since been disavowed in his mind, firmly rooted in the past never meant to resurface. (Truthfully, they still do resurface on occasion, come knocking at the stoop of Cassius’ nightmares where he pleads with them to just tell him what he did wrong, and why he wasn’t enough for them to continue on loving him). To love something that is no longer in existence, it’s strange.
Besides, if love is so terrifying, so risky, why risk it? Why risk the pain of having a love you once possessed later get ripped away? Surely, you’re better off never having felt what you could have lost, versus knowing for certain just how much pain losing the one you love is. (If he hadn’t loved his mother in the first place it wouldn’t have hurt so much the day he admitted to himself that he no longer loved her and the person she had become). To Cassius, no joy of love could outshine the shadows of a love inevitably lost.
Cas recognises that this is exactly what Mallick is talking about: fearing love because of an expectation that it will leave you. But when he tries to imagine a love that you just expect to be there in the moment, he can’t. That type of stability and trust intrinsically ingrained in such a thing is unimaginable to Cassius. And maybe he can’t because Cassius is as greedy as he’s feared, greedy enough to want to control something that he shouldn’t (can’t). Because if he can control his own love, manipulate it to the whims of his already skewed logic, then he can never truly get hurt; never truly hurt anyone who makes the mistake of loving him back.
“I have to say, if it’s easier for you to accept the way they hurt you, then you do not love them”.
“That’s a given”.
Cassius did not love Emmeline, and Emmeline did not love Cassius. Cassius simply loved what Emmeline did to him, what Emmeline made him feel. (Or, distinctly, what Emmeline made him not feel). They had a mutual understanding of these facts when they made their agreement almost a decade ago, and when they had renewed their agreement just this past year. So of course, what Mallick stated was obvious to Cassius; accepting the hurt Emmeline gave him was far easier than it ever would be to actually love her.
Absentmindedly, he reaches up to his lip, feeling for the split that a healer had erased not an hour or two before. However, just as his fingers meet smooth unblemished skin, he’s quick to draw them away, pressing his hands into his lap to still their fidgeting. The constrained motion doesn’t last long, and soon enough Cassius is reaching down to draw small spirals in the dirt with his finger, piecing together his own questions hidden beneath a winding logic. “But there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?” Finally, Cassius looks up from the ground, searching for Mallick’s gaze when he asks, “What does it matter if someone I don’t love hurts me?” It’s no less sincere as it is naïve, a question that should have a basic answer, but one that Cassius can’t seem to uncover.
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croupiex · 3 years
Text
⋯ tea, three years later
ara-kadeu​:
‘Actually, I’ve been reading a play lately.’
Her smile grew with the words as she lifted the teacup before her. She’d chosen something mild in flavor, so as to not compete with the flavors of the food spread- but caffeinated so that she might be able to keep up with her daughter later. She took a sip of her tea, her gleaming eyes not leaving her guest, save for an instinctual, quick glance towards Lana. 
He plays his own skill down, though Ara knows from previous conversations that it isn’t for show. For her part, Ara doesn’t agree with his implied assessment of his reading abilities. She’s thinks he’s been doing much better, and is always impressed with what he’s pushed himself to try. But then, that’s just how she’s always been; if someone put in the effort and really tried to do better at any given practice or skill, it simply didn’t matter what progress was made or not. They’d earned her pride, and their own. 
Cassius finishes with a compliment and she chuckles, setting the cup back down with a graceful dip of her head.
“Thank you. I won’t lie, it’s nice for someone else to see the work we actors must do.” Another light laugh- and glance towards the berry squashing toddler. She props her elbow on the table, and rests her chin on the back of her hand. “What play are you reading? Keep in mind that, much of the time, plays read differently than novels- so any trouble you’re having is likely none of your own doing. There are some that are just meant to be preformed- and preformed only.”
Another glance towards to the suddenly quiet toddler, whose curiosity had suddenly shifted from squishing fruit to figuring out the locking mechanism of the tray before her. With a gentle hand, she reached over and held Lana’s arm, getting her attention and redirecting it back to the snacks on the tray, adding a small strip of hard jerky to help with the pains of teething she’d been going through lately. 
Turning back to her guest, her smile resumed. “You should have brought it, I might be able to help with it. Oh!” Her face lit up with a sudden thought, “You should bring it by Wing sometime! That way my students get a little more practice, and you can follow along reading the words as they are preformed. It might help- and I’d hate to see you give up on it prematurely.” 
Initially, Cassius had thought that a play would be easier to read than a novel. Part of what made novels so difficult was the blocks and blocks of prose, at least with a play it was mostly dialogue, and Cas had been speaking for almost the entirety of his life; he had experience with dialogue. Unfortunately, his assumption was far from accurate. “I’m reading The Twelfth Night, I was told that it was one of the easier classics out there but….” He takes a hasty sip of tea, letting the implication remain unspoken and implicit between the two of them. A small shrug and he smiles again, fingers once again fiddling with the lobe of his reddened ear in a habit Cassius had never fully trained himself out of.
From Cassius’ seat, the little strongarm looked as if it was attempting to stage a breakout, no longer interested in the berries (that it hadn’t even thanked him for) but rather the constraining tray. Half-heartedly interested in whether the tiny thing would be able to succeed, he holds out one of the finger-sweets from the tea tower, lazily shaking it to encourage the wiggling mass’ plight for freedom. The action is short-lived and the croupier is quick to pop the sweet into his mouth, hiding any evidence of mischief when Ara returns her attention back to him; hopefully none the wiser to Cas’ shenanigans.
“Wouldn’t that be a bit… too much?” As nonchalant as he tries to be, Cassius isn’t exactly proud of the fact he struggles with reading. So the thought of letting an entire room of strangers know about his shortcoming wasn’t terribly appealing to the human. Although the idea of having the text spoken aloud admittedly did sound like it could be helpful. One of the (many) thing(s) that made reading (at his current level) so difficult at times was the sheer amount of time it took him to sound out words, words that he often already knew, yet never learned the spellings for. Perhaps having the words read out to him would make that barrier easier to overcome, or at the very least familiarise him in associating the letters on the page with intelligible words.
“Maybe… if you told me the title your students are currently working on, I could go out and find the text myself. That way I could stop by without interrupting the flow of their training”. It would be easier for Cas to remain anonymous that way, a little fly on the wall at the back of the room that didn’t draw unnecessary attention. With this method Cassius wouldn’t have to deal with the spectacle that would be Ara introducing a new play and pointing to him as the reason they were straying from their original lessons.
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croupiex · 3 years
Text
𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡
Friday, September 10, 2024. Evening. The Kohaku, The Circle, Hearts Territory.
saygeko​:​
To be human -as if ever someone had said such words- seemed a curse, nothing more than a short life span and a meaningless existence. No matter if said human could hold any luck in them -worse if they had none- Already forgotten by the good touch of fate by the mere act of being born. Something Sayge wouldn’t lose sleep for, but when she crossed paths with one of them, the brisk thought would appear and vanish quickly in her mind. Oh, the poor human souls.
The desire to help just for the sake of helping was something Sayge didn’t connect with easily, much less often. Her whisper of good luck wouldn’t caress anyone’s cheeks for no reason. Not without wanting something back. If they gambled in her casino, some of her good fortune would fall on them, it was good for the business, but it would not be the same fate for those earning their daily bread under the lights of the gambling room. Lucky they should already feel working at her command.
Followed by two junior butlers in Zuihuo’s colors, Sayge left the noise and pleadings for good outcomes behind. The Kohaku had its characteristic pulling of her. Greed could be smelled in the air, the hope of the middle rankers mixed with the envy of those not high enough to earn a letter in their wrists. Exhausting her now more than years before, when her hunger was fed with their begging, but now, now Sayge had a different appetite.
Guards opened the heavy doors of the office, for her to find refuge inside, or to work more. Butlers took their steps after her but were stopped short by Sayge’s raising hand and a faint smile crossing her lips, an order easy to understand, she was walking into the office on her own. Doors closed behind her figure.
By her pond was Cassius. Lost on his own thoughts, she could only assume, as not the heavy doors being closed, or even the clicking of her heels as she approached brought him back to the present moment, he was anywhere but at her office that evening. The Fae could see his shoulders slumped like if he had already given up, perhaps he did.
“Are my fish lending you an ear?” She asked as her feet took her close enough to sit on the edge of the pond, not as far from the distracted human. “They are good. Aren’t they?” Her black eyes landed on the swimming creatures, all gathered close to the man, who had their precious food on his hands.
The Diamond had become a regular at her offices after his misstep in the past. Half a punishment, half a promotion. Han Cassius had now the privilege to feed her koi fish, only those that wouldn’t need special care. With not a hidden motive, Sayge gave Cassius one thing, that for some had more meaning than simple luck. 
Trust, but in Lady Luck’s words; meaning. Live for the fish.
Some days, Cassius forgets how to feel. His words drown deep in the black sticky tar thriving inside his chest, expressions and muddled letters becoming lost before they even have a chance at spoken existence. On days like these, he’s not living for most of the day; simply existing, going through the motions. If he could, he’d pull himself out of this rut, grasp onto something real and resurface into the land of the living, but as it is now, he can’t. His hands are slick with his own desperate sweat, and no matter how many times Cassius pulls himself up he finds himself back in the same dark place as before. And sometimes, Cassius wonders how much longer he’ll be able to chase after a world that he keeps tumbling down from; a world he doesn’t belong in.
Now, he sits by the pond in the Kohaku, legs crossed and hand generous (but not overzealous) in its feeding of the brightly coloured fish scattered across the surface of the pond. It occurs to Cassius that some of these fish might be older than he is, the human already more than a third of the way through his life and yet still so very young – young enough that even these koi fish may have lived longer lives than he had. And, well, Cassius isn’t quite sure what to do with that information; can’t tell whether the realisation makes him feel pathetic, or if he’s simply left with a quiet respect for the fish for making it this far in their fin-wiggling lives.  
Cassius watches the koi fish with a trance-like stare, absentmindedly shifting his seated position to hug his shins and thighs to his chest as he finishes scattering the last of the flakes into the water, chin resting against his knee and eyes transfixed on the rippling water. Today is a slow day for Cassius’ brain. His thoughts move like molasses, a sticky syrup that refuses any form of haste. It’s slow enough that he doesn’t catch when Lady Kō enters the room, barely-aware conscious only taking in the fae’s presence once she’s settled into a spot nearby.
Even then, he takes a beat, and another, and another, to respond, “I’m not doing much speaking today”.  A half-smile, sincere in the way it’s so translucently tired. “But you’re correct, Lady Kō. I’ve never met a better listener than them. Even when I don’t have any words to give, they seem to know exactly what I’m thinking about”. Palm emptied of flakes, Cassius slowly reaches down, fondness leaking into his exhaustion as one of the fish come into reach, allowing him to gently pet the aquatic vertebrate. He muses aloud, “It’s impressive… most of the time even I don’t know what’s on my own mind”.
Mind playing catch-up with his current situation, Cas finally turns his head to face the fae, asking, “Shall I leave? Give you time alone, Lady Kō?”
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croupiex · 3 years
Text
wallflower, blooming
lukef​:
the evening nears when luke is finally finished with work. it’s a friday, it’s roughly around nine pm and he hasn’t really eaten anything hot or warm yet. but the long day has left his traces on him and his mood and he decides that he’ll simply go to a bar or a restaurant to eat something before finally going home and getting a good sleep. he’s not interested in drinking, he’s learned his lessons with alcohol again and again in the past years, some good food will do it for now. the sun has long went down and he enjoys the warm breeze of the summer night on his skin. 
his feet lead him to a bar he’s been at before, the food they serve is good (their drinks are questionable, but he’s not there for that reason anyway - so why not have some nice soup or fresh vegetables?) and it’s not that far away from his apartment, meaning the way home won’t be long either. he’s not planning on staying for long, given he’s tired (or rather almost completely knocked out) from work. 
when he enters the bar he’s greeted by stuffy air and the smell of beer and other types of alcohol, but also some sort of smell that makes water collect in his mouth - fresh bread, parsley, all the good stuff.
the elementalist decides to sit down at a table and he’s lucky, there’s one below one of the open windows. a moth swirls around his head for a second, but he’s able to shoo it away with his hand. while he looks through the menu, someone else catches his attention. and if he would have known what he had to expect in said bar, maybe he never would have entered it. 
the barkeeper catches his gaze and greets him when he stands up, but she’s greeted by a serious and concerned look. there’s a guy sitting at the bar and he’s swaying slightly, given he’s noticeably drunk, that’s  not a big surprise. the thing is, luke would recognize that face and hair everywhere.
“cassius?”
Through the haze of his own inebriation, Cassius’ expression visibly sours at the appearance of his former closest friend. Three years of absolute silence: no warning, no ‘goodbye Cas, I’m leaving now’… what a jerk. Although Cas had been the one to reject Luke, that had been done to protect their relationship, to protect Luke. Surely if Cassius was in Luke’s position three years ago, he would have at least had the common decency to tell Luke he hated his guts before fucking off to Umibe.
(Because Luke must detest Cassius for rejecting him, if he didn’t, then why would he just disappear like that?)
Petulantly, Cassius turns his head away and glares down at his emptied drink with a scowl, eyebrows furrowed, and posture defensively shifted away from the fire elementalist. He’s visibly irritated by the man’s presence, yet the occasional glance in Luke’s direction (which is rather obvious given his drunken state), instead suggests Cassius’ poorly hidden interest in the changes three years of absence had brought. Since their initial meeting a few days ago, the hint of ink at the base of Luke’s neck once again catches Cas’ attention, and he’s quick to conclude that whatever is inked against Luke’s skin must compliment the man’s broad shoulders very nicely. There’s other changes too, subtle things that make Cassius wonder if Luke is still the same man he knew all those years ago, or if they really were total strangers once again.
But really, of all the bars in Kadeu, why did Luke have to come to this one? Bars were as plentiful in Kadeu as egomaniacs, which means that this meeting was a stroke of absolutely appalling serendipity. The gods must be laughing at Cassius and his misery. Softly, Cassius grumbles down into his glass, complaining to himself, “Can’t he take his irritatingly handsome face and leave?” A brief pause… had he said that out loud? The human’s ears brighten up to an embarrassed red, and he hastily raises his hands to hide them from view, head turning so he can now glower directly at Luke, commanding (rather unconvincingly), “You heard nothin’”.
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croupiex · 3 years
Photo
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Bang Chan .:. 1st Look (Behind)
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croupiex · 3 years
Note
Fire: Would your muse rather be very cold, or very hot?
"Very cold, it's much easier to heat yourself up than cool yourself down".
( Cassius prefers the heat, it's warm and comforting in the way cold never is ).
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croupiex · 3 years
Note
Heights & Failure
Heights: Is your muse a risk-taker?
No. Taking risks is, well, risky. Cassius thinks he's reached the peak in his life, the single highest point he can strive towards. Taking a risk at this point would be foolish, and might endanger all that he's managed to gather over the years.
Failure: Has your muse ever given up on an important dream?
Cassius has long since given up on the concept of having dreams in general. He's a broken idealist turned defeated pessimist.
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croupiex · 3 years
Note
Change, Social Phobia
Change: What was a turning point in your muse’s life?
When he began to work at the casino. Even if he wasn't a croupier at the beginning, it was a turning point wherein Cassius realised that there was a true chance he wouldn't spend the rest of his life as a "protected" house servant.
Social Phobia: What’s one thing your faction does you could do without?
Sucking up to high rankers. Or, well, sucking up so obviously. Cassius thinks if a Diamond is going to suck up to a highranker they should at least put in a little more effort and attempt to sound somewhat genuine. So many others in his faction are too transparent with their bootlicking.
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croupiex · 3 years
Note
Death & disease.
Death: What does your muse consider the worst way to die?
Dying when you want to live.
Disease: What does your muse do on a sick day?
If he has to work, he'll (begrudgingly) work. Otherwise he'll dramatically curl up in bed and hope the mattress swallows him whole and spits him back out healthy after a day or so later.
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