innerbeast

[innerbeast]

moments pass, yet tension still follows.

heavier steps echo his own, causing hairs to stand upon the back of his neck; fur of his tail following suit -- bristled and risen, enlarging the shape of a stiffening limb. a creature cornered, left between a risen barricade and the maws of temptations fiercest monstrosity.

personal space is erased far too quickly, ears left ringing with the sound of his clubs door. slammed shut within his hold, hand left frigid against its handle. stilled, yet held agonizingly tight; enough to whiten knuckles as a shudder crept up along his spine. he can feel eyes on him, can hear the smile in that cold tone given life.

life awarded to it by dar'khol's own existence.

he does not, yet, look back. eyes trained on the door; widened in a mixture of disbelief, fury... and another he dare not humor. sooner would he plunge himself into the aetherial sea than to admit, once again, that he held equal understanding to the desires both souls held. yearned for. once was enough; once was one time too many.

that, he already, could not deny. but wanted to, still tried to.

slowly, the warrior's mouth gives way. at first, a slight parting, pulled shut, then parted again. lost for what to start with, yet knowing his tongue sat loaded with plenty to say, to question. he should not know you, he repeats to himself. however, there's an addition that comes with it,

"--my friend."

... but he does.

finally, at last, dar'khol's head turns. deliberate, yet slowed, a ferocity held in mismatched hues as they rise to lock with lively blue. of all those that have come and gone upon this island. familiar faces he cherished to see, to know, yet not a one of them knew him! not a single one recognized him! now, another face he knows too well greets him on this island of spirale, and this one...!

this one remembers.

zenos viator galvus is the singular entity to hold any memory of him!!

a breath escapes the miqo'te; heavy, shaken. another follows, and again, again. the hand upon his door begins to shake, almost trembling. handle within his grasp creaks, a bolt begins to rattle as crimson sparks within his frenzied stare.

"you." is the growl presented, "they take from me everything, and put you in their place...!" metal whines alongside the warrior's voice, a snap! cueing an end to it. his door would need repairing as it's handle sits detached, his tightened hold its undoing.

"at the end of everything... you should be rotting."

FOR A WHILE, he thought himself dreaming.

to be wrested from a journey across the stars and deposited here, one afterthought amidst the rest, had been exceedingly jarring. to be given a wooden prop in place of his weapon an additional insult, though the prospect of reclaiming his strength in bits and degrees proved a mildly more interesting challenge.

but to what end?

his friend had once been whisked off to a different star. zenos supposes his situation was no different, except for the fact that this world held a surfeit of prey. a beast who sharpened his fangs on tedious pickings would only find his teeth ground to similar dull insipidity; after making his way to the ward that held his lodgings, he had studied the makeup of the buildings, streets, and people with a growing sense of ennui.

perhaps if he engulfed this world in flames, as fires once wreathed the dying city in his slumbers, it would offer better amusement.

the problem of where to start occupied his thoughts next, purely as a logical exercise—to cause panic in the city fringes or to set off chaos from the center first. then there was the issue of how to cause the conflagration, via machine or magical means (despite the level of technology here he hadn't seen a single warmachina in any of the streets), and of course the lingering question of whether it'd even yield the results he wanted.

pale blue eyes pause on a neon red sign over a door in an alleyway.

he can read it—which is no surprise anymore, after realizing the city's design somehow made all printed text understandable despite the different languages—but he also recognizes the style of text. eorzean, his mind supplies, and that coupled with the skull logo next to the name piques his attention.

to think that someone from the land of savages also had a voice here.

it doesn't seem to be open yet, but that was just a matter of time—yet fortune smiles upon him the next instant when an engine purrs to a stop only a few distance away. even without looking, zenos senses something curious in the air: a certain tension, like a breath held or a string pulled taut, yet the motions of the rider continue. release. dismount. footsteps.

the gait sounds familiar. his gaze shifts for a better view—

"passin' by, you're takin' up the sidewalk."

no change of expression registers on his features at the miqo'te walking towards him.

it isn't until the warrior of light truly steps past that a smile lights up his features, and hardly has dar opened his door before zenos steps forward to slam it shut, palm resting firmly against the wood.

a hunter always knows when best to pounce.

he looks down with eyes alit with life, taking in the minute details of the body and warrior he knows so well, and puts to words what his instinct already knows.

“At the end of everything I find you, my friend.”

[innerbeast]

[innerbeast]

he doesn't know you.

that's what the warrior decided to repeat to himself; over and over on a frantic loop. again and again as heart rate rose, accelerating with the sight flowing blond and piercing blue. a face he knew, and knew well. a reoccuring visage left to linger in his memory, swirling an ever present longing he wished to bury.

that want for adrenaline; for rushing blood and vlamped fang, labored breathes and a mind that ran blank. guided only by hunger and instinct. he wanted it, craved it, needed it--

no! no.

no... he didn't.

dual-toned eyes are ripped away from a hunter turned prey, head shaken to clear himself of resurfacing impulses. reality seeps back into him, hands removed from previously revved handles as his motorcycle is switched off. he'd come here for his club, for skullrender. nothing more.

"passin' by, you're takin' up the sidewalk." if he knew naught of the warrior, they could pass by with a lacking interest. he was still fighting with himself the entire way, fangs pinching at his inner lip to keep from saying more to keep from making eye contact.

if he just went through the steps of getting up, proceeding to the door... he'd be fine. even if fingers twitched with needing to pass the prince by, if ears perked and turned for the slightest -- slightest! -- beckoning of temptation.

he doesn't know you. they never do. this is no different, it's no different...!

the beast yearns to sink its fangs, even now. it eats itself to satisfy its lingering hunger. @pvpme

[innerbeast]

eclipse about to have me acting (brutally) unwise

[innerbeast]

heyyo! it was recently brought to my attention that, having been running with a pre-existing relationship of two wol's as part of my characters canon, it goes against some things! i'll be doing some quick reworking with that and want to give a huge apology for the unfairness in my misunderstanding!

[innerbeast]

BEHOLD THEM..... and my normalcy over this commission, the high from this picture is gonna keep me kicking for a while. this was done my milketali on bsky!! they also keep a carrd with other places to reach them and i highly recommend if they've got spots open!!!

[innerbeast]

"father's day. right, sure--" anyway.

[innerbeast]

"stickin' with favorites ain't ever a bad choice!"

"though it does mean i'm gonna be houndin' ya to branch out afterwards," with an elbow, lucia is given a playful nudge. "if ya end up likin' it, of course. i've plenty o' recommendations to give, never too sweet, either!" actually -- "better yet, i'll get another of my own, ya can try a bit."

Lucia curiously notes the familiarity between Dar'khol and the employee, coming to the correct conclusion that Dar must be a regular at this shop.

"Oh, my," Lucia hums, leaning in to read the menu of different boba varieties. "It says the tapioca variety is 'classic'; perhaps I should try my usual favorite sort of tea with that?"

[innerbeast]

"how do we feel 'bout a pastel yellow? mint green, perhaps, instead?" he questions, a handkerchief of each color held within a hand. "figured quiche could use a lil' somethin', everyone else has an accessory o' sorts. 'sides, their plumage is comin' in nice, our bloated lil' kidney bean might be set for take off soon!" dar follows that comment with a quiet 'hm', "...whichever one they don't get i might need if i gotta say farewell to the bloody thing."

@darkenforcer

[innerbeast]

"here." nonchalance smothers his tone as the warrior holds a hand, a small, green balled held within his fingers. there's a second one just like it, for himself, in his other hand. "ya've been skulkin' around long enough, figured ya'd want somethin', too! i never mind sharin', go ahead. it's called a catsfoot chew, havin' an odd cravin's sorta night."

@spiderstaff

[innerbeast]

"somethin' like this," a pause, the miqo'te adjusting his posture. his arm bends in a little more, wrists allowed to loosen. he's certainly trying to mimic this so-called iconic pose recently learned. "--right? this is how ya were doin' it, aye? ...er, or was it a lil' higher -- this, maybe?"

@moraypower

[innerbeast]

"heard my fair share o' complaints towards it, but what in the seven hells' would ya even consider brawlin' music? don't see much wrong with what i've got, ain't really the main focus, and yet..."

[innerbeast]

"funny ya say that, 'cause 'normal' tea is the base of it all." stepping in, the employee at the counter is given a small wave ( let's quietly ignore the fact he was just here already ). "see, ya can have any tea o' your choice -- black, green, oolong, matcha, and so forth. ya can have it milky or not, give it a certain sweetness, then finish it all off with what really sells it!" his arm outstretches, a finger pointing towards a smaller menu, "the boba! or pearls, as some call 'em. could even have jellies, or puddin' bits, or --!!" ( sorry, lucy )

"No, I haven't. Clearly it's different from normal tea, I've gathered that much." Lucia allows Dar to guide her into the shop, eyeing him curiously. "But what makes it different from, say, iced tea? I know that's rather popular as well."

[innerbeast]

"--have ya not had it before? lucy, doll, you're missin' out!" without another thought, an arm is tossed around the woman's shoulders, an inward tug to follow. "th' possibilities for it are endless, c'mon! best way to explain it is t' show ya!"

Lucia stared at the sign above the shop, considering. "What exactly is... 'boba' tea?"

[innerbeast]

please look at this incredible daryuri commission i just got back from the wonderful @mewnia ( highly recommend, she's so lovely to work with! ) !! this piece came out so good, SO GOOD! i'm not going to be over it. love is real!

[innerbeast]

"a fanboy, am i?" there's a brief laugh huffed against yuri's neck, the warrior's head gently adjusting in place. just enough to help guide those fingers against his ear into the right spot, thanking them with a low rumble.

"if that's how ya wanna put it, i'll be sure to stay number one," he adds, tail springing into a playful fit of twitches.

or, at least, they were mere twitches until yuri's vocalized agreement. what a silly thing to get so excited over, but there was meaning behind how he wanted to go about it. so, to have his partner willing to go through with it sent both his tail -- and his heart -- into a happy flutter.

there's a grin returning to the miqo'te's face, as well, offering a nuzzle against the other before pulling back.

"whaaaaaat?" ignore his attempt to bite back a snort. "come on, ya wouldn't want this beautiful mug etched onto ya? really?" no, never mind. it has him laughing outright, anyway. but, it's just the right amount of uplifting he's been needing. short absence or no, he can still say he's missed this.

"guess i'll have to reconsider gettin' yours on me, then. settle for somethin' a lil' more symbolic, i suppose."

"jumping ahead? there's an understatement," he says, as if a scoff's gonna fool anyone.

a hand raised to comb through russet hair stills; heavy words against his neck bringing him to a breathless halt. that wasn't the first time yuri left -- a shorter departure than the last, but he didn't have so much to lose then. didn't feel panic seize his mind as he came to, repede the only thing keeping him from stumbling on his dazed return to golden.

it still unnerves him. how much he knows his presence can mean to a single person here; how much theirs means to him. a person so sentimental, too...

but neither seem willing to linger on it for now. nothing yuri could say would change what happened, anyway.

"oh, are you now? you wouldn't be the first." his fingers have since reached his partner's scalp, traveling further to gently rub at an ear, "guess i don't mind having a fanboy if it's you, though." maybe it goes both ways.

"but i'll admit... much as i wanna tell you to look before you leap, you weren't wrong," his absent affection continues as yuri's voice softens, eyes drift to a close, and the hold upon dar's waist tightens, comforting and protective, "let's do it. that permanent sentimentality or whatever... if that's what you want, i'm all in."

"one condition: there's no way in hell i'm getting your face poked on me. don't ask."