simulamortem

[simulamortem]

He surrendered the belt buckle easily enough in the face of Octane's impatience, expecting he would be able to deal with it faster. That proved not to be the case - but optics LINGERED where the balisong was drawn, following its blade and only realizing belatedly when the buckle had been disposed of.

How many belts did halfsuit go through that way when drunk, he wondered, or was this a SPECIAL OCCASION?

He might have teased as much aloud normally, but it was too many words for him to be bothered with right now.

"I could've done that," he slurred instead. Revenant managed the fly of the other Legend's dress shorts without help and tugged at the garment with just a bit of insistence, expecting Silva would handle the rest - regarding dark briefs patterned in NEON SHARKS underneath.

Couldn't say he was surprised.

There was some surprise past that - but nothing that gave the simulacrum any pause. Only the question that remained of if he was going to be any good at this drunk, after the CENTURIES without, and with a tongue he hadn't used this way before. But he was past the point of second-guessing now.

He settled lower. Captured Octane's leg just where the flesh ended, held it still while he bumped his snout against the inner thigh, warming his teeth by nosing against the muscle just slightly clumsily. His grip on the captive leg was strict. Not allowing any squirming.

As if tempting death weren't Octane's greatest talent.

"But it's so fun--"

His words bled into one another, typical babbling worsened by his own slurring and the frightened tremor in his bones, but his voice died anyway as Revenant advanced and loomed over him. The warmth venting off his circuits was welcome in contrast to the grimy, cold tile at his back, and Octane seemed to lean marginally closer despite his frightened trembling. He tensed as Revenant reached for him, but made no move to stop him, mind caught on the fight-or-flight instinct that felt so much like a drug cascading through his veins.

He let out a shaky breath he hadn't known he was holding as the buttons of his vest snapped one by one. The sim struggled some at his waist and Octane reached for the buckle with a huff, swatted at Revenant's hand and fumbled with it himself before it became apparent neither of them were going to be able to do it with ease, not even Octane with all his experience managing what he did so often under the influence.

He growled and, still settling his weight on an elbow, reached instead for his back pocket. He mumbled something indistinct about how much he hated pants as he fished out his butterfly knife, cut through the leather until the buckle was done away with altogether, and chucked it crossly into the darkness of the bar.

[simulamortem]

"Don't tempt me."

Slurred and murmured, it would have been difficult to make out the words if not for the quiet of the bar. Carefully, steadying himself against the counter on the way down, the simulacrum KNELT, well aware that it would be no easy matter getting back to his feet.

He lowered to all fours. Crept closer, closing the short distance that remained, slowly and a little less than stable, until he had navigated past Silva's steel legs. Hesitated, looking him over some. Little more than a brush of his CLAWS, and each button down the other Legend's vest was cut open, each with a soft snap. The opened front of the garment was brushed away to each side before those same claws sought Silva's BELT BUCKLE.

Revenant stared down for it with far more concentration than might normally be needed as he half-fumbled with one hand to get the damn thing undone. Been a long time since he had undone his own belt buckle, let alone SOMEONE ELSE'S, drunk.

He didn't have much time to process Revenant's reaction-- only to take note his touch obviously did something-- before everything lurched backward. With a surprised squawk, his body went through its usual instinctive wriggling at being manhandled before he resigned himself to the machine strength at the back of his collar. It took him a moment through his dizziness to reorient himself and even recognize he was being hauled across the floor, just in time to lose his bearings again when he was deposited unceremoniously behind the bar.

He groaned softly and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead, vision spinning, skull pounding. Took another moment yet to register Revenant had killed the lights and it wasn't just his brain rattling around in its cage, playing its usual tricks on him in the spaces between stim and liquor.

He sat up halfway, leaning back on an elbow for support, as his gaze flicked from Revenant to the bar and back again, in an attempt to clarify what exactly the sim was doing - but those luminous optics were now on him, and another familiar thrill rushed down his spine, ushering out a laugh equal parts nervous and manic. "Am-- am I about to get murdered?"

[simulamortem]

Genre of character: submissive like a guard dog is submissive

[simulamortem]

hellhounds [commission]

[simulamortem]

Thought so.

A soft scoff as Revenant finally looked away, murmuring, "Something like that..." WORK and PLAY - it was more or less all the same to him now.

He seemed to have NO INTEREST in the other Legend's work inside his chest cavity, or even in whatever tool might be introduced next. An awful lot of nonchalance considering the number of Apex engineers who had suffered broken bones or concussions for working on him after a match, on a few of the occasions the simulacrum had allowed it at all.

Instead, his gaze roamed the room. What he could see of the desk and the supplies that littered it from his position on the floor. Any other personal touches that made the space looked lived in. Anything DIFFERENT from the last time he had helped himself to a private tour of the place, maybe.

But after just a minute or so, his golden glow began to dim and lose its focus - like the sim couldn't keep his eyes open, so to speak.

One more adjustment to the lamp and the extent of the simulacrum's wounds are finally brought into the light — though it'd hardly help, considering he was still DRENCHED in the dark, slick oil-like substance that ran through his system. But it was enough for Elliott to continue his work, the legend managing to slide the cuff around one end of the nicked tube before digging around the tool pile for his light welder.

Though it's not long before the search is paused, Elliott's heart SINKING into his stomach at the other's first haunting question. His eyes stick to Revenant's like magnets. Every flicker, every flash of his optics sends anxious butterflies down to dance around his heart — both together causing a wave of NAUSEA to creep through the engineer.

"I um...can't say I have...like — EVER, done that. Any of that." His hand begins to prod around the tools once again, eyes eventually falling back down to aid in the search.

" — must be what you do for fun?"

[simulamortem]

The lights dotting his frame FLICKERED briefly. He'd lifted the fur but hadn't expected Silva would touch there — a soft sound cut out, either like the sim's faux breath catching or like he'd altogether switched off his vocoder to prevent it.

But when he moved to step back, he was stopped. Caught his weight on the wall again to avoid losing his balance, and gazed down for Octane, optics taking a good long moment to FOCUS. And longer still for him to think again. He was feeling dizzy. He was feeling tired. But he still felt irritatingly hot.

MORE ICE would've been easy enough.

Instead, Revenant reached to grab the other Legend this time by the back of his shirt. Dragging him along behind as he turned and trudged for the bar, staggering once but catching himself on the counter, pausing there, swaying slightly - then continuing around behind it. Half-threw Silva over the floor, not with enough force for him to hit the cabinets but just enough to send him sliding out of the way. Claws fumbled under the counter until the overhead lights were TURNED OFF, leaving just the under cabinet lighting on.

The neon light that was left shone off his metal, while the dark shadows created made the beast's biolights and gaze appear to glow all the BRIGHTER.

He hummed and brushed a finger thoughtfully over the edge of the panel, dark brow furrowed. It did throw a gear into the workings of what Octane was accustomed to, but hardly affected his interest. It just didn't make sense-- didn't add up with the way Revenant acted-- was he lying? Why would he? The sim was brutally honest most of the time, omitted the truth only when it was convenient-- did he not want him--?

Revenant made to move away and Octane's grip tightened a fraction in tangled fur, anxious.

"Don't."

He winced at the plea just a tad too frantic, suddenly keenly aware of the fragile position he'd put himself in, how easy it would be to kick him to rock bottom with the right words. Dizzy, he rested his forehead on the plates of the sim's stomach for a brief moment, trying to still his racing heart, to reason through the right way to respond in a way that made sense.

It wasn't this, specifically, that he wanted. He just wanted. He felt Revenant's free hand hovering nearby and instinctively butted his head against it, chin rising to take its place at Revenant's middle, gaze returning again to the sim's face.

Finally, the only way he knew how to say it: "I want you."

Whatever that entailed. He couldn't elaborate further if he tried, but it certainly extended beyond the sim's equipment or lack thereof. In any case, if the hiss of hydraulics in his legs was anything to go by, he wasn't the only one missing pieces.

[simulamortem]

"It's a good thing, I think. That we talked about it," he responded. If she wanted to get better at dealing with incidents like last night, she would feel more prepared the next time. "It's fine if you have questions." It obviously wasn't his FAVORITE subject, but he wanted her to be comfortable asking about it, if she was going to try to understand and help.

Seemed she now better understood the last time this had happened, too.

Revenant leaned closer to leave a soft kiss against her cheek. "There's nothing about me that's easy." No one else would have fared any better. He glanced over, gestured again for the tablet. "Tablet?" Asking again if he could hang onto it while he was here.

she wasn't sure if killing him would ever feel RIGHT, or at least she prayed it never felt that way, but if he meant that she felt that killing him would be the right CALL, then she appreciated the permission.

❝ i'm sorry for starting off our morning like this, i didn't mean to—— ❞ she wiped at the side of her face either out of exhaustion or embarrassment. ❝ i know you don't blame me but i just felt like i could have done better, and i got a bit in my head about never being good enough to help you. that's all this was. ❞

after nervously fidgeting with her boot for what felt like an eternity, she finally put her foot down before nudging the side of his foot with her own a few seconds later.

❝ and you can stay as long as you need to. just... be careful. please. ❞

[simulamortem]

Revenant watched her, and he didn't answer. He didn't look convinced.

It was obvious by the sudden strength in her voice that she was being honest, of course, and there was some truth in what she said. He would seize any opportunity to hold HAMMOND responsible for the suffering they had wrought.

But it was still his choice to be with her. Hammond, the Syndicate, and what they had done to him had nothing to do with that. He knew the DEPTHS of his own sharp edges and ugly wounds - and still allowed himself, all his broken parts, to be with Symphony and her TENDER BLEEDING HEART.

It had always felt like a selfish choice, no matter how much he might protect her or spoil her or manage to make her smile sometimes.

Her words at least reminded him that SHE CHOSE HIM TOO.

He listened as she went on, held her gaze now. "Yeah," the sim agreed quietly. "As long as it feels right to you." That was all that mattered to him.

he was already looking at her when she turned to look at him with confusion. and she was already shaking her head before revenant could finish, her lips parted. she had wanted to drop the situation but it seemed that he NOW wanted to elaborate.

❝ no, that's not how that works, ❞ she says and something in his words ignited something in her that no longer struggled to maintain his gaze. ❝ hammond hurt you, and they hurt me by proxy, sure, but you didn't do anything to me. ❞ did he think that tough moments like these made her regret being with him?

❝ i choose to be with you despite it, and i choose to be the person that will be you with all this HURT... ❞ she only looks back down after her last declaration, self reflecting on what she needed to take away from her own words. ❝ i might not always be good at it. and i might fuck up sometimes, like last night. but i want to get better at it... it's just an adjustment. and it's scary... but i want to get better at being there for you. ❞

❝ i don't—— ❞ want, no, she needed to reframe her words so he didn't take it the wrong way. ❝ i'm not planning on killing you whenever this happens. if i kill you that means i failed in helping you. and i want to help you. i just need to know that you'll support me if it comes down to that, even if doesn't feel like the right choice. ❞

[simulamortem]

erm. Hi sry for being gone a whilee was going through shit and am still going thru shit. im Alive though so thats something!! u can have a rev sketch i made 2 weeks ago thats like. the only rev drawing i ever liked

& to th people who requested stuff i will get those done. probably not Soon but before the year ends for sure. ^_^

[simulamortem]

"It hurt you to see me like that, didn't it?" He asked, perhaps rhetorical as he seemed to already know the answer. "And it hurt you to have to kill me?" Finally meeting her gaze to gauge her response. Questions he thought might CONVEY at least some small portion of his reasoning, of the suffering he felt he'd caused her.

"I've been shot hundreds of times," Revenant went on, looking away, distant. "Killed hundreds of times." He spoke of it nonchalantly, unaffected, before looking again to Symphony, watching her. "How many times have you had to kill someone you loved?"

He then considered her question. "You don't have to," he insisted as always. She never had to. "But if it would hurt you more to watch me... struggle than it would to kill me, then no." Assuming he was STRUGGLING - not like last night where he had been comparatively calm, or in any other circumstance where he could still be calmed or pulled out of it.

❝ i... cried because i didn't know what was going on and i had done something really scary to you, ❞ she said. ❝ not because you hurt me... i was the one that shot you, remember? ❞ she could almost laugh at the IRONY.

the conversation would have gone a lot smoother if he had comforted her like he did last night and this morning, and offered her some type of appreciation for making a tough choice instead of criticizing it. put that was in the past now, symphony didn't much care to bring it up again and instead getting over this hurdle they were struggling to get past.

❝ would you get upset if i had to do it again one day, even as a last resort? ❞ she asks.

[simulamortem]

The simulacrum looked away, his feelings from that time churning through the distant glow of his gaze like restless waves before a storm. He was quiet some moments before answering. "... It had felt like all I had been doing was hurting you," Revenant said. That she'd had to see him like that. That she had felt she had to kill him just to stop it. The way things had gone afterward - like he couldn't do ANYTHING RIGHT.

And that he knew things like that would keep happening. That Symphony's heart BLED for him - that she had peeled back his cold, steel exterior but she was just going to keep finding deep, festering wounds with SHARP EDGES, one after another, and her heart was going to bleed and bleed.

You don't know what you're doing, he'd told her.

Finished very QUIETLY, "I couldn't stand myself." His tone too familiar with the words, like this was far from the first time they had run through his mind. Like they ran on a well-worn track.

she waited for him to elaborate but wasn't surprised when he didn't. she was, however, slightly surprised by his answer. at the time he seemed more upset by her choice rather than how it effected her and had never brought it up afterwards.

she wasn't sure how to feel about it, but it still didn't make her feel any less bit about his reaction back then.

❝ the only thing that hurt more than shooting you was you telling me i shouldn't have done it... ❞ she mutters. the only thing revenant had put her through was leaving her to think that he left because she made the wrong call.

[simulamortem]

bella: somehow talked me into a kaleb au also bella the more that I tell her about kaleb:

[simulamortem]

Her answer seemed almost defeated - more likely just WEARY. She seemed to accept his warning of times that he might be more difficult to handle, though.

Revenant studied her some, but not for long before looking away once more and allowing her the time to digest or mull over other questions she might have. Gazed for her again, softer, when she spoke. "I don't want to put you through that," he answered. He hadn't wanted that the first time - it was WHY he had insisted she hadn't needed to do it then, had felt so MISERABLE that she had done it anyway.

It wasn't her killing him or her decision-making that had upset him. Just her suffering, and that she had suffered because of him.

the queen sighed in response to his question, a sigh that sounded like it could go either way. ❝ yeah, ❞ she eventually says, pulling her knee closer as if in comfort. again, it wasn't immediately obvious whether or not she was telling the truth. but when she had nothing more to add, it could only be assumed that she was being honest and was just tired, both physically and mentally. and she DID appear to have calmed down from her brief panic. even if she didn't feel better, she at least looked like she ACCEPTED his answers well enough.

however her eyes fell slightly when he continued. ❝ yeah... ❞ she says much more softly, with more SORROW. she falls into another contemplative silence before daring to ask what was on her mind. ❝ can... i ask why you're opposed to me shooting you again? ❞ her words were slow as if wary, like she was afraid of completing her question. ❝ you say that there will be nothing i can do, and yet... ❞

[simulamortem]

He didn't know what he'd expected.

Maybe just for Octane to keep begging. Maybe for him to answer with some quip, some half-hopeful invitation annoying enough to punish him for. Instead, he started to move. SHOW instead of TELL. Revenant heard the click and short scrape of metal knees coming to rest against the floor.

His gaze followed, head bent to watch, arm still propping his balance against the wall. The beast's abdominal plates seemed to RISE in response to the other Legend's touch - lifting slightly everywhere the warmth of his thumb trailed - before settling with a soft rattle everywhere they were met with lips or tongue.

Octane stopped where expected. Revenant stared down after him in a long, pensive SILENCE, gaze distant like his mind was still catching up, or like he was still mulling over where to go from here.

He hadn't been built for this.

Finally, he issued a curt, half-hearted scoff as his claws reached to lift the strip of matted fur guarding his pelvis. There was nothing to see underneath. Just SMOOTH, BARE METAL, and a nondescript rectangular panel that all his shells shared, probably something to do with the way they were assembled.

"I live to disappoint," drawled not without a tinge of bitterness as the simulacrum seemed prepared to drop the loincloth and step back.

Octane watched his gaze travel lower and the daredevil's slight frame practically vibrated with yearning, hands balling into fists where they rested below a tangled mane. His eyes lifted to Revenant's own and he lost his breath, fixated by twin moons that glowered out of the darkness the beast's towering form cast between them. Only swallowed hard in response to his inquiry, as if he'd lost his voice.

Actions spoke louder than words, anyway.

So he slid from Revenant's grasp, down to his prosthetic knees, where the metal scraped at cold tile. His hands followed more slowly, smoothing down the sim's sides, thumbs catching and pressing at the joints and circuitry between protective plates. Lips brushed along the arch of the sim's belly, breath hot against alloy, giving pause only to lick over the tiny white lights decorating his armor. It seemed almost trance-like, the devotion with which he gave his affections, and so focused in contrast to his frenetic scrambling before.

His hands reached the side of Revenant's thighs, where his fingers curled into the faux fur on either side. He stopped, tentative, at where the plating of his stomach ended (and where that infuriating loincloth began); he'd have been lying if he'd said he hadn't thought multiple times of whatever he might find beneath, but in this particular moment, he really hadn't thought this far ahead. How did it work for simulacrums? Was he supposed to know?

He bit his lip. Nervousness crept back into his bones at the stillness, and he tilted his head back to return his feverish gaze to Revenant, wordlessly seeking guidance.

[simulamortem]

sometimes u just need to draw rev hugging a giant nessie plush. i hate how therapeutic this was for me but we ball

[simulamortem]

He wondered if she preferred to forget about it, too.

If all the metal was as much an inconvenience for her as he had always ASSUMED it was. "Yeah," Revenant answered quietly, staring off somewhere else just as she had occupied herself with her boot. "I know."

He shifted to sit back on his hands more comfortably again. "You feel any better about it?" She sounded like she understood now - or at least like she was starting to. He didn't want her to be AFRAID, or to be so hard on herself when she was. "... Y'know there might be times when there's nothing either of us can do," he cautioned. "I don't want you to blame yourself if that happens. It's not your fault." Whether he was suffering a relapse or something else, sometimes there was just NO HELPING IT.

that actually made sense to her this time. she was quiet, lifting up her foot to fidget with her boot straps as she listened to him intently.

❝ it... caught me off guard, ❞ she eventually says after a moment of contemplation. ❝ i don't normally think about that kind of stuff when i touch you. all i feel is you. ❞ the first thing that always came to mind when they touched was how strong he was, how safe and protected he made her feel, how COMFORTED. the metal had always been secondary.

❝ i hated doing that. reminding you of it, ❞ she admits. ❝ i like making you forget about that stuff, you know? ❞

[simulamortem]

"I was relaxed," he assured. "It was just... unexpected." He thought it over a moment more. "I think if you tell me what you're doing before you do it, that might help me," he suggested. Then he could be PREPARED for wherever she wanted to touch - or otherwise be given the chance warn her if she should change course.

Revenant rested his hand back down, looking away, thinking. Didn't seem to want to hold Symphony's gaze while he navigated the subject. "I mean... when you say I don't have this or that. SKIN or whatever. That's not important." It had just reminded him of his situation. He listened to her go on, reflecting on how she had struggled to find what to say.

"It's not just metal," he mused. "There's canvas. Synthskin. Panels, seams. It helped when you mentioned the struts at my waist," the sim explained, tapping briefly at the metal of one. "The more detailed you can get, the better, I think."

her foot bounced anxiously, not really looking forward to what he had to say, expecting the worst. but like always he was kind and patient with her, maybe a little too patient with her. she had to look away and cringe to herself as he continued about the things she could have done better.

❝ i thought i was helping, ❞ she said. ❝ and you looked so relaxed, and we've done——i don't know. it was stupid. ❞ she had been on top of him the last time this had happened, on his lap and on his back, so she didn't understand what exactly she had done wrong in that moment. she was too embarrassed to ask and didn't want to argue about it, so gave up rather quickly in that regard. symphony just decided that going forward she was just going to touch him with one hand the next time this happened, and only if he ASKED to be touched.

❝ i don't... understand what you mean. i was focusing on what was real, ❞ she didn't understand why saying what she was SEEING was off the table and why touching him was more preferable for him. she speaking either way, only he seemed to like it when she was GROPING him everywhere while she did it.

❝ i don't know how many times i can hammer home that you feel like metal, no matter where i touch, ❞ she adds with a shy, slightly amused snort. ❝ it didn't feel like much of a difference. or like it was working... until it did, i guess. ❞