towerofanimus | A couple promised closed (or semi-closed) logs

Entry tags:

A couple promised closed (or semi-closed) logs

Characters: Enoch and Lucifel, and anyone who would visit his room too. Just let me know! Also, Enoch and Lancer.
Setting: Dorm 3-18 backdated to November 1st, Floor 62 backdated to December 1st
Format: I'll match!
Summary: Enoch has had something very unpleasant happen to him as a punishment for too many failed riddles. That is an understatement. Also, he and Lancer agreed to a sparring match.
Warnings: Talk of being flayed may happen if you press for information. (If this is one of your listed squicks I'll actively avoid it coming up), maybe blood or broken limbs in the sparring match? There is a tangent involving sexual discussion.

Dorm 3-18, November 1st

He woke with a scream.

Or tried to. In his sleep paralysis it was only a choked sound as he stared at the ceiling wide-eyed. Unable to move or speak, all he had was the nightmare he'd just lived, punctuated by Eleven's shrill screaming. All he had was that he was not in pain. Parts of him were still numb from revival, but he was not in pain.

An involuntary, low, distressed moan was what told him he could move again. Shaking and pale, he pushed himself up. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and his gaze was unfocused, glazed-over. He raised a hand, still numb and tingling, and pressed it to his own chest. With something between a laugh and a sob, he curled up on himself, a tight human ball on the bed.

Unlike the time that had given him such an adverse reaction, there was nothing driving him to keep going. Only the horror of what had happened.

Floor 62, December 1st

The beach had always been a calming place for him. That is, until his return to Meridian. As he waited for Lancer, he watched the waves, arms folded as his thoughts wandered. Mostly, they wandered to Armaros, and their time in Meridian. Time spent there, he on a large dune watching as Armaros swam.

And now, he was here. Torn apart. In so much pain he could only blame him.

A nautilus shell washed up against his foot. He bent down to pick it up, idly playing with it as he waited for Lancer, stewing in his own thoughts.

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Oh, his legs were in the way. Enoch shifted to lie down instead, then, on his side in what little space there was, his head pillowed on his arm. He'd even help Lucifel get his shirt off with his other hand, not that his coordination was much better, much less without looking.

Yes Enoch, your legs were in the way. With the legs gone he was about to open his shirt when he realized he still held the bottle in one hand. Could he even open his shirt with one hand? Oh well, it were just a few buttons anyways, and he was hot.

Oh wait, there was Enoch. "Here. Don't drink. I'm not done with it... got it?" He handed the scribe the bottle back then and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. So much for his own coordination...

"All right..." Enoch grasped the bottle with both hands and watched Lucifel attempt to remove his shirt with a passive sort of curiosity, that eventually turned to amusement.

"Can't you...can't you magic yourself out of it? How does a sheer shirt make you too hot in the first place?"

"... Right, I can do that." Why hadn't he thought of that first? "And it's not magic Enoch." He quickly added before he flicked his fingers, attempting a few times until he got it coordinated right and his shirt was gone.

"What is it, then?" Enoch offered the bottle back, smiling at him lazily. He liked having this companionship. It made what might normally be a lonely spiral into further despair an enjoyable time instead.

"... Divine power... or something like that." Actually, he never questioned what to call his powers. He knew it wasn't magic, while it might appear like that to others. Lucifel clung onto the bottle before he took a sip from it again.

"We match now," Enoch observed suddenly, unable to help but laugh. He draped his freed arm over him for a one-armed hug.

"...Oh my, You're right...!" Laughter being infectious as it is got Lucifel to laugh with him just a moment later. when he noticed the bottle was empty he get go of it and wrapped an arm around the scribe in return.

Enoch was all too happy to accept this, too drunk to question what this would look like to an outsider, and grateful for the contact and for the happiness itself. It takes him a while to stop laughing, and he's grinning warmly when he does.

"You're the best friend a man could ask for, Lucifel..."

It was the same with Lucifel. He was too happy like this, probably too drunk for his own good, but in this Tower where happiness could be taken from you in an instant, it was important.

"I'm just doing what I can..."

"I know. And I appreciate it. And you. I don't even know how to tell you how much I appreciate you. How important you are to me." He chuckled a little as he realized he was rambling.

It was all fine, Lucifel was still laughing along with Enoch, even though he was rambling. "My... Are you confessing to me Enoch...? Sounds much like you do..."

"Wh-what?" Enoch managed through his laughter, suddenly incredulous. "No, it's not like that...that is, I don't think it..." His words fail him even more as the last bit of what he drank finally starts hitting his system. "It's not what I meant when I said it, that is...

"...Ah, I'm too drunk. You're an irrepl-...an...ah. You're a very important friend, Lucifel. Can't ever lose you."

Whatever it was, Lucifel wasn't minding it at the time being. That that he could comprehend much of Enoch's babbling in his drunken state.

"Mm, same here, same here... you're important. My friend." This must be what being wasted felt like.

That pleased him so much he pulled him close with both arms, cuddling him like a giant teddy bear. The horror of his experience seemed so far away now. Everything terrible seemed far away. There was Lucifel's company making his drunkenness a pleasant haze.

And as he allowed his mind to drift in this state, an earlier point in the conversation came to mind.

"Say, Lucifel? What would third base be?"

Well, for today he'd bee fine to be used as teddy bear. he was clinging onto Enoch too after all. He was chuckling and tried to stop when he was asked again.

"That's..." For that he needed a moment to think. And it made him stop chuckling. "Stimulation of erogenous zone... with the mouth."

"Oh. Why are they separated? That doesn't make any sense..."

To be fair, it wouldn't make any sense to him sober either.

"How would I know that...? You, you humans made it up."

And this is something he would usually have an answer to but can't think of.

"Humans in the future made it up," Enoch corrects, tugging on one of the pillows under Lucifel's head to try to get it for himself, now that he didn't need it to prop himself up to drink. "They're strange, aren't they?"

"It's still humans." He added quickly and lifted his head a little so Enoch could grab the pillow. "Nah... they're interesting... and strange." To him at least.

"But, from all humans, I like you best, Enoch."

Yes, having a pillow under his head was much more comfortable. Enoch smiled at him, obviously flattered.

"Because we're friends?"

He had every reason to feel flattered. Lucifel hardly said something like that to anyone.

"There's... there's no word stronger than friend, is there?"

Enoch is quiet for a long time as he thinks about this. Finally, he says, "I don't know. Is there?"

Which, certainly, doesn't really help the conversation.

"I... I don't know, that's why I ask." He couldn't recall if there was one in any language.

Fumbling with the scribe's hair seemed really interesting as well.

Why was he playing with his hair? Oh well. It felt nice.

"Well I don't know, either...I suppose we need to make up a word."

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