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Post by Killian Cruz on Jan 11, 2018 2:08:56 GMT
The air was much cooler than usual that even in cat form made small signals of a chill tremble down his spine. He, however, was not in cat form, finding that keeping the jacket from Djinn on much warmer than plain fur. Maybe he was coming down sick? Truthfully he didn’t know but he felt a chill in his soul he didn’t really know how to get rid of. So he tugged the coat around him a little more and walked at a sluggish pace. He had avoided people for the last two days even after his last run in with a tiny werefox who didn’t seem to really know how to handle him. The last enjoyable run in had been Lucia even though she turned him down flat for a mate who was no good for her. That wasn’t his place to tell her that though. He would simply stand by her side as he always had on whether it went good or it went bad. That's when his mind went running to Djinn. It had been awhile since he had last seen his handsome face. Almost instantly once the realization seemed to register, his heart sunk and he felt a little emptier. His soul starting to run just a little colder. Maybe that was why he felt off today? Perhaps his body had registered it before he his head actually caught up with the rest of it.
Perhaps that was all the more reason to go out of his way looking for him? The chill started creeping up his neck and shoulders again as his mind started turning into worse scenarios. He knew Djinn had intentionally tried to push him away. Maybe it was that time. Maybe he had finally had enough with their last rendezvous and moved on? Of course, the feline knew it was only a matter of time before the fairy just up and disappeared. He was good at it too. Perhaps he was now finding another fool to his bed. He gave a soft snort to himself as he had a distanced gaze on the trail ahead of him. The feline didn’t go out of his way to hurt others however with the fairy being involved he wasn’t sure what he would be pushed to do. The idea of having him bed another felt like a pit in his stomach and an uncomfortable feeling start to settle in. He didn’t care for it much but he did know one thing, A trail of bodies would be following after Djinn wherever he went. No lover of his would survive the next day of him finding out about it.
However, this chill didn’t feel like a scorned lover left in the cold. It felt more subtle than that perhaps something deeper he wasn’t thinking on. Despite Djinn’s usual intentions of trying to avoid him it never lasts long. The feline would always stumble upon him. It always happened that way but they had never gone this long without seeing one another.
His feet kept carrying him in the same straight as an arrow path. He didn’t even know where to begin to look. Where would a fairy like Djinn wander? His past conversations were always about him doing some kind of underground fight club for money and he of course hung around Aelfmenn from time to time for the food but he had just come from there. The ruins were another good-looking place. His mind kept rattling on ideas like that as he kept walking in his slow and steady pace, hardly acknowledging his surroundings at least until a trickle of a sweet smell entered his nose causing his head to whip towards the right. His feet stopped their shuffling as he paused. The smell caused his stomach to lurch and growl in protest reminding him of the little food he had acquired that day. Something to eat did sound nice. The only problem was in his foggy numb brain the sweet smell held a very familiar hint to it. Maybe it was the lack of food that made his brain go into such a stall of what was really going on. His feet were already shuffling him towards the smell before he realized what he was doing. Once the smell started to grow stronger his hunger was coming into full play making a bit of a predator urge course through his veins
But then….. He saw him.
Instantly it was like the veil had been lifted from his eyes and were replaced in sheer horror, slicking over with tears as bolted to his fallen fairy’s side. Tripping and sliding onto the ground next to him he immediately started checking him over with light and shaky hands. ”nonononono no.” he breathed his voice shaky. He wasn’t sure what had been done to him and wouldn’t know until he got him someplace not out in the open. ”Djinn.” he said softly. ”It’s okay.” how was it going to be okay? He didn’t even know how badly hurt he was. His head lifted to take a quick scan of his surroundings trying to survey how close he was to something… anything really. The nearest town was quite a bit ways away and there was no way he could carry him that far. Djinn had far more length to him than he did. Killian at a young age didn’t get the nutrition he needed it had stunted his growth. ”We’ll get you somewhere safe.” he said. He didn't wanna leave him to go looking for a suitable spot not knowing how badly he was hurt and if mortally so he didn’t want him to be alone.
Seeing as his option was literally only having to pick him up, he whispered soft apologies to him every so often placing a small peck near his temple and forehead as he bent and hoisted him up. The weight was pretty easy to hold considering he was stronger than the average human -- kitty blood and all -- but it was a little awkward holding him. Djinn was long bodied and so did his best he started to trudge off down the path.
He felt like he had been carrying him for miles, for hours, and he still didn’t see much other than the wooded area starting to thin out. He paused for a moment and let his eyes scan once more trying to see more than just trees cause to be honest the longer he looked at it the more it was all beginning to blend in together. That was when he spotted the tiniest little shack. He was pretty sure it had been abandoned long ago as part of the wood looked rotted but it was enough to get out of the environment and if they were lucky to get a fire going so he could check Djinn over and clean him up.
Moving him into the shack he carefully sat him down near a wall that he could lean on with his shoulder for support. Whispering his be right backs he went to search out some close by water to bring back and some kindling to get a fire going. It took him a lot less time getting the material together than it had to get to their small little shack. Once he had gotten things settled, found something to put water in, and tore off the cloth from the towel he went to work to check him over all the while testing the scent that clung to him. The smell was foul. One he hadn’t smelt before and he didn’t exactly know what to make of it. No less the smell was masculine that much he could tell. Gently cleaning him up and figuring out where all the bleeding was coming from, he did his best to not allow the concern to show too much in his eyes. He wouldn’t ask. Not about his wings because that was unimportant and nothing he could do about however he could do about the who and that for now was what he would focus on. ”Who… did this?” Djinn |
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Post by Djinn on Jan 11, 2018 7:05:40 GMT
The punch from the dragon had knocked him out cold. He would awaken a few hours later lying on the cold forest ground with the shadows of evening stretching across his naked body. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even convince himself to convey that message. He just lay there and stare up at the trees in a shock like state wondering how the hell this had happened for a second time. His feet and legs were covered in an assortment of small punctures from the hooks that had been inserted. One hand bore a long deep cut down the palm, an injury of his own doing. The other hand, the one he had actually gone to the Dr. to for help was doing alright…at least in the midst of all the other pain that battled for dominance.
But it was his mutilated back that had broken him so fiercely. The old wing remnants had been removed as well. Other than scars he had no proof his wings had even existed. No evidence that he was fae. And at the back of his mind that question circled around and around, a buzzard as it came down for a meal. Why? Eamon’s answers had been less than satisfying. Basically amounting to that he was just bored and Djinn was just there. Time passed slowly. Those same thoughts circling around and around in his restless mind until eventually the pain and blood loss mounted and the fae passed out to sleep for a few hours.
Two days passed. Two long days laying in the forest, naked. With only a thin sheet like fabric wrapped around him for warmth. And still he couldn’t move. His bloodshot eyes peered up at the mid day sun when a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. Killian? No…It couldn’t be Killian. He sounded so far away. Djinn could feel himself being moved but couldn’t really feel the contact. Could see the sky rocking above him as he was carried and feel the warmth of a chest against his shoulder.
It felt like he was hearing everything through water. He could hear Killian’s words but they felt so far away, so distanced. He couldn’t respond. He tried. Tried to force words past his chapped and bloodied lips. But he couldn’t. He drifted out again. Awakening later to see that he was now inside of a cabin and leaning against a wall. Killian was carefully trying to clean his wounds. To wipe away the blood that clotted on his skin like a second hide. Had Killian carried him a long ways? How had he known where he would be? Had…had Eamon seen him? What if he came after his kitten?
He was gently rocked forward as Killian cleaned the blood from his back and for the first time since he had been found Djinn made a sound. ”Don’t.” He croaked. His voice breaking and raw. His throat so dry that it crackled with his speech. ”Don’t…touch..me.” He wasn’t angry with Killian. He loved the man. But he hated the world in those moments. Hated this shitty hand he had been dealt. He felt helpless. Useless. And Killian had undoubtedly seen that he was wingless.
The question for a name went unanswered but Djinn would close his eyes when he recalled the dragon’s handsome face. ”Go…” Another broken word, his dry throat making his voice strange sounding. ”Leave me!” A demand this time. One hand flinging out to shove away any further contact. But all it did was force him to fall onto his side with a pained cry. ”Fuck.” He said under his breath. His bloodshot eyes closing as he leaned his forehead against the aged wood floor. ”I don’t….Don’t look at me!!” He felt like some freak, mutilated and changed at a dragons hand. He coughed against the floor but didn’t have the strength to pick himself up again.
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Post by Killian Cruz on Jan 11, 2018 17:37:02 GMT
To describe the pain he felt for the man he loved was hard. He didn’t think there was any amount of words that could explain such the tear he felt in his heart, the hurt he felt for him. He was doing his best to keep that part completely covered up as he watched him with gentle eyes. He didn’t move from him as he attempted to wipe away the blood but instead croaked a word and then three more. Killian didn’t reply though, he simply went on catering to the wounds he could with the bits of water he had retrieved. Later once he knew Djinn would be fine he would go out and look for a salve for him as well as some clothes.
Anger was short to follow and unfortunately, Killian knew it would. He braced himself for it but in his own stubborn way, he refused to give up on him. He refused to give him the isolation he thought he needed because, to be honest, he didn’t need to be left with his thoughts. He didn’t need to be left with the feeling like nobody cared because someone did. Someone loved him more than the very breath he held in his lungs. Djinn tried to push him away but missed ultimately making himself tip over. Every instinct in him told him to rush to his fallen love's side but he stilled his muscles and simply lowered his hand to his lap and watched him. ”Not yet.” he replied. The words were simple and yet held a firm tone he hadn’t used with Djinn before. Sure they had their arguments and sure he could get nasty with his words but there was always a hint of a submissive beneath them. There was always a 50 percent chance that Killian would bend under the demand and leadership of Djinn but not this time. This time he held firm on his decision of sticking by his side until he didn’t need him to anymore. He wouldn’t baby him even if he wanted to but that was probably the worst thing the fairy could use right now. If anything he needed to sort out and accept the fact the feline, for now, was going nowhere.
So many times he had been in this type of situation. So many times had Djinn helped him through a mess he had gotten himself into… and so many times he had pushed him further when he was sure he couldn’t budge anymore. Djinn stuck a belief in him and it would be such a disrespect to him and all he had taught him to just give up. ”I’ll go but not for long.” he said once more and shifted to where he was a little closer this time to the fallen, beaten, and berated man on the wood floor. He wanted to touch him. He wanted to give him comfort because he hated, hated seeing his handsome hero so defeated. He kept testing the scent that clung to the cloth that hung around Djinn as well as the bits he could detect on his skin. It was faint but it was there and it was one he wouldn’t forget. Shifting a little bit he reached around to grab a small bowl that held the fresher water in it, separating the two in case Djinn had come to. ”Drink.” he said. ”It’ll help your throat.” he needed to get the fluids running back in his body once he did the healing process could start. Water was such a life giver and rejuvenating thing that their bodies were mostly made up of. The only problem was he wasn’t sure how quickly Fairies really healed and he supposed it would be a bad time to try and ask him.
He moved to gently grab Djinn by the arm and pull him back into a sitting position, holding the bowl out towards his lips to help him at least get a taste. Should he knock it out of his hands, only quiet patience would be reflected back at him. Breathing through his nose he settled back on his own rear, for the time being, eyes moving elsewhere so Djinn didn’t feel like he was being scrutinized.
He would find who did this. No, he didn’t know much about him but the scent wouldn’t lie. The scent would lead him directly to where he needed to go and point out exactly who he needed to see. They wouldn’t get away with it. They would pay. His jaw muscles twitched as he rests his arms on his legs not pushing Djinn to speak any further only stating in his quiet defiance that he was going to be sitting right there and if he spoke…. So be it but if not the silence didn’t bother him. |
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Post by Djinn on Jan 13, 2018 7:02:45 GMT
He hated this. He hated himself for being so weak. And he hated that Killian was here to see him at his weakest moment. He was angry and depressed, his mind skittering this way and that like a wounded beast seeking refuge. He didn't know what to do. Where to turn. He just wanted it to all be over. Killian refused to leave and Djinn breathed a huff through his nose. "I don't fucking want you here, cat!" He flung the words at his companion. He was ashamed of what he was and Killian being here to see his downfall only made it harder.
"Just leave me, dammit." He was too weak to argue with him much and after that comment he had fallen to his side with a pained grunt. Water...he had water. Part of Djinn was desperate for a drink. Another part knew that he should just abstain and let himself die a painful death. At least then it would all be over. He wouldn't have to feel their lingering looks. The pity in their eyes. Killian tried to help him sit up then and Djinn accepted the help just because he didn't want to lay down any longer. However when the life-giving water was handed to him he would angrily shove it away. His dry parched tongue pressing against his teeth as the cool liquid soaked into the floorboards. "I don't need help with my throat if you will just let me die like I want to." He snarled the words at Killian. He didn't want to hurt him...but maybe it would be easier that way. If the man hated him then his death might be easier for him to accept. At least he presumed Killian cared for him, he could be imagining it all.
Djinn leaned his head back against the wall with a soft whimper that made his eyes slam shut in shame. "Killian...do this for me. If you care about me even a little you will just leave me here. You saw my goddamn back. I don't-cant do this." He was weak. There was no use in denying it. He always put up a strong front but he just couldn't today. He couldn't force the act. He couldn't be suave and confident. He just couldn't. He pursed his chapped lips, tasting blood. A cruel smile made them spread wide until blood ran from the tiny fissures.
He survived a war, survived battle after battle, and then some rogue dragon takes him out all on his own. It was pitiful.
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Post by Killian Cruz on Jan 13, 2018 16:10:06 GMT
Those words should have hurt, they should have stung but the feline felt cold towards the situation. He knew this wasn’t the real Djinn talking. This couldn’t be the real him. He was embarrassed about the vulnerable state he was in and the way he dealt with it was through anger. In the amount of time, he had been around his fairy he knew that this was apart of his personality that should be expected. Sitting on the floor as he soon refused both the water and the held of sitting up, he sat there for a moment and looked at him. A soft growl of his feline made its presence known while the look of stubborn crossed his dark features. ”Fuck you. You can’t tell me what to do.” He stated bluntly. It was no time to argue and he actually wasn’t trying to but he was going to let him know he wasn’t going to be bossed around either. ”I’m trying to help you because I care about you, Djinn.” his voice was a little gentler that time. ”Because I lo--...” he stopped himself before the words could be finished and in his own frustration his voice got a little harsher again. ”And despite how much of an asshole you are you don’t deserve to be thrown out in the woods wrapped on in a towel awaiting death. So…..” he got quieter again feeling self-conscious as he looked away growling. ”So fuck you.” His brows furrowed a bit. His arms crossed defensively over his chest. ”So buck up. I’m sticking around because I want to not because you need or want me to.”
That was a partial truth. Djinn did need him to stick around. ”And you don’t get to tell me otherwise, so sorry pal.” He knew this would piss him off but later on he would thank him. Later on, when he got to his senses he would thank the feline for sticking it out even when he was an asshole. He didn’t wanna die. No one wanted to die. Even those who claim they want death still fight at the end. It's all a matter of pure instinct and nothing more. If Djinn wanted to die he would have given up long before he had stumbled a crossed him. ”And besides if I leave here now, I will go looking for the son of a bitch. So if you don’t want me to do that you will let me stick around.” oh he made his plans known. No matter what Djinn said, no matter how long he stayed here, he was still planning on going and finding this foul smelling creature.
He may seem pathetic and like he had no clue on how to take care of himself but that was a show. Killian could be a lot more dangerous than he puts on and what he liked in strength he made up for brains. The soft whimper caused his heart to beat faster again and a push for him to draw nearer but he stilled himself in his seat. He would simply be pushed away again. Until Djinn accepted the fact he wasn’t going anywhere he was going to stay put in his seat. ”I do care about you but because I care about you I refuse to do what you ask or demand.” Another soft hiss escaped between his lips unintentionally though as he moved to look Djinn right in the face -- despite his eyes being shut but he leaned right over that if he did open his eyes he would see the dead on seriousness he was displaying. ”Djinn, you fucking listen to me and you listen to me good. I don’t give a damn about whether you have wings or you don’t. You got me? Your wings do NOT matter to me. That does not make you worthless to me. What I care about is YOU.” he wasn’t trying to be harsh with him but what he said was what he meant dammit. He just wanted him to be okay. After a moment of silence he finally stood up to his feet and grabbed the bowl again. Without saying a word he headed out of the shack.
It would take him less than five minutes luckily to go and get the water and bring it back and with the shape Djinn was in he doubted he would be going anywhere any time soon. Finding the little trickle of fresh water running down, he filled the bowl and waited a few moments out of the shack. Giving Djinn time to process things in his head before heading back in with the bowl. Instead of offering it this time he simply placed it down on the floor and sat back down in his spot, drawing his knees up to rest his arms on once again sitting in silence. |
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Post by Djinn on Jan 19, 2018 16:03:28 GMT
Killian chose this time to be stubborn. To speak up. The fae watched him in silence as he was cursed at, indignant stubborn anger rolling off the feline before he said he cared. And then nearly more. Lids lowered over his blue eyes but still, he didn't speak. His chest burning with the connotations of such a near admission. "You shouldn't." Came his low reply, his gravely ragged voice barely above a whisper but steady as stone. Because it was one of the few things Djinn did know with certainty. No one should care about him. No one should love him. It would only end badly.
His kitten made a statement then that drew a quick cutting look from the fae. "You will not." He declared fiercely. Not asking but making a demand. If Eamon hurt his Killian...No, he wouldn't even think about that. He wouldn't think about someone stealing the light from his love's eyes. That mischevious smile that could pull an answering smile from his depths even when he didn't want to.
He had fallen onto his side then. The sound of Killian's hiss grating on his nerves. Eventually, his reddened blue eyes would open to see Killian's hazel surprisingly close. He swallowed, his dry throat painfully scraping. Miraculously a slight sheen came to those bloodshot orbs. Cracked and bleeding lips parting to speak. But nothing came out. He blinked against the discomfort and broke his gaze from the were's without speaking a word. He couldn't understand what it was like...losing that part of himself. It would be as if his animal or human side were suddenly all he had. But there was no arguing it. Not in that moment, not when he was so weak and dehydrated.
Killian left then and Djinn listened to his retreating footsteps although he wouldn't turn to see him leave. Slowly he would push himself back up so that he was sitting. His entire body trembling. He flexed his arms, rolling his shoulders and immediately cried out as the stitches were pulled. Eventually Killian returned and Djinn stared down at the small bowl of water for several moments before he lifted it with shaking fingers, spilling a good amount of the liquid as it made its way to his parched lips. Oh...but when it touched his tongue. He sucked the small amount of water down readily after that first swallow. Not bothering to wipe away the mixture of spittle and blood that rolled down his chin once he dropped the empty bowl to the floor beside him.
"Killian..."
He croaked, his voice a bit stronger now. He didn't look at him as he spoke. Shame written on his features. "Come here." His shoulders were slightly hunched but he couldn't relax completely, the stitches pulled when he tried. Slowly he would hold out the hand with the deep cut down the palm, the wound clotted yet still creating a deep crevice down his skin. "Please." It wasn't often he used that word. But he did then. "Promise me....that you won't track this man down." He wouldn't risk his Killian for anything. Even revenge.
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