Mickey Doyle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
byanyname) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kingdomsofrain2016-12-01 03:31 am
byanyname) wrote in kingdomsofrain2016-12-01 03:31 am
tfln open post
***
either leave a message (or set of muses) for one of my assholes, or request a message from one of them. choose messages from the classic source, from your own skull, or whatever you may please.
no subject
I haven't mentioned your peculiar situation to them. (Yet.) Someone needs to coddle you in the meantime.
Right.
I'm evoking verbum rea. As you'll recall, on September 13, 2003, all parties involved in the non-fatal stabbing and (thankfully) similarly non-fatal arson, signed a cocktail napkin - which is as of this moment sitting in a safe deposit box in New Jersey. Need I remind you of the terms?
This is how we keep our chaos in check, Darius, my dear. One may at any time, once per year, demand absolute veracity from either of the other two signatories.
In other words: I'm cashing in my annual.
And I have two unused chits for the past twenty-four months, so you might as well resign yourself to the possibility of follow-up questions.
And if you refuse to answer, I'm legally permitted - nay, obliged! - to hunt you down and set your prick on fire.
[...]
Be honest now.
[...]
Have you got a crush on your doggy?
1/4
[ ... ]
You utter, you confirmed asshole.
Why the fuck did I agree toYou wouldn't...Fucking of course you wouldDon't you fucking 'my dear' me[ ... ]
[ ... ]
First fucking point: chits uncashed do NOT roll over to the next year.
[ ... ]
I fail to see how this curbs any chaos. In fact, I would go so far as to suggest that you are DELIBERATELY kicking up chaos, and sowing shit.
Goddamnit Senan. Fucking Wilkes.
2/4
3/4
[ Which is precisely when Enri’s picture arrives.
Which is precisely when Darius curses appreciative under his breath, and accidentally sends the unfinished text. ]
4/5
It isn’tFuck off, it[ … ]
Enri has his appeal.
5/5
no subject
And Darius. Does not get attached to his playthings.
But likewise, he never gets defensive this way about said playthings. He boasts, oh yes, and humiliates them, and parades them for his own entertainment. He doesn't text at three thirty in the morning to amend an earlier outburst about destroying their families.
Or admit -
Anything. Like this.
Senan sits back, an arm draped over the back of the sofa, and stares at the phone. It feels like it should be ominous.
But it's not. It's rather nice to see Darius maybe happy. (He tries not to think of this as closure.)
It's a moment before he replies. ]
You know, I believe that is precisely what I'm going to do. Fuck off for the night. It's late, and
[...]
And you, Darius, are going to go back to
your doggEnri and enjoy your evening.[...]
Duly noted about the razing. I'll see you when you're back in town.
Goodnight,
Daryou absolute cunt.no subject
Sen not persisting. Sen backing off prodding further or offering some snide remark. Sen— Retreating?
It isn't retreating. Darius doesn't want to think about precisely what it is, or how its newness coincides with... With the boy. With what Darius said about (what Darius admitted regarding) Enri.
There's half an urge to snarl, to turn this conversation back into familiar, biting territory. (To back away from this uneasy newness.) And at the same time, Darius very nearly appreciates Sen's (is it truly?) (it seems like) tact.
And, most importantly, there are those texts from Enri. And that photo from Enri. And the thought of a bed turning cold, a young man left alone, the minutes ticking down and Enri waiting, waiting.
Darius is walking back into the suite as he texts. ]
Enjoy your fucking off for the night. Try not to strain anything.
If you need anythingAnd don't forget to brush your teeth.
Sweet dreams, asshole.
A Day of Two Later -
Consider this supposition: that one has been enamored of another for ohhhhh - any number, arbitrary, but for the sake of having a number upon which we might build a foundation, shall we say: twenty-five years.
That this amorous sentiment was held not guarded, but silent. Often to the derision of other parties currently away on holiday and thus unable to come here and have a drink with me.
Why should they want to have a drink with me, you might ask! This derisive third party surely would wish to know what is being celebrated!
And I'll tell you, of course. Supposition and consequence, and an unveiling of long unsuspected truths. Suppose the second party -
Fuck all.
[...]
Rin loves me.
Did you know? I didn't fucking know.
My god, I'm going to burst at every seam.
no subject
And: It’s about fucking time.
And: Which of the two would have pushed it into speaking?Did Sen finally jump in, or did Rin finally figure the fuck out how to speak?
And: Good for them both. Probably. (Probably definitely.)
(And: This is. A lot of communication with Sen. Is this going to become routine? Sen texting Darius, Darius texting Sen? As if jumping back into conversation (into something like camaraderie) were as simple as this?
Darius finds he doesn’t disdain the idea. It isn’t bad, speaking with Sen again. (It might almost be a little bit agreeable.) ]
’Tous mes jours. Tout mon couer’?
[ ... ]
The difficulty here is that you’ve caught certain parties most comfortably fluent in derision feeling less irate than is their wont. Which leaves them bereft of their usual verbal arsenal.
Add to that the near-shock at hearing concision in the voice of Sen, lifelong peddler of loquacious - some might say ‘tedious’ (ah, there it is! the trusty jab) - bullshit, and what am I to say?
Well. That this confirms you as an ass, for holding so much silence.
That it is [ … ] - or I will grant it seems to be - some cause for celebration.
That after all of your ill-luck, after years of the trials and tribulations of hapless Sen, you’re overdue a shot of fortune.
Congratulations, Sen. You disgusting sap of a romantic.
Better late than never.(…It ought to go without saying, but don’t you fucking tell Rin I referred to them even tangentially as any kind of fortune. Don’t you fucking dare.)
no subject
[...]
Point of order, but I've always been fortunate. I could never have asked for finer companions. Finer friends than you and Rin, there never were, nor shall there ever be again.
This isn't fortune. This is miraculous. This is a universe not in the least indifferent. This is the benevolence of all mankind converged.
This is what should be termed 'paradise', but that it is solely my own bliss. (Perhaps theirs, too? I'll strive for it. If they can be happy with me, what suffering is there?)
[...]
Darius!
I do believe I'm going to marry them. I'd like to do that. Fuck, I couldn't do that twenty-five years ago, could I? God bless the twenty-first century. I'm going to marry Rin. How is that for romantic?
I'm going to ask. Suppose they say 'yes'; you'll come, won't you?
[...]
Christ, they're beautiful. They're wearing purple eyeshadow again. It's terribly flattering -
[ And you know what. He's going to snag a picture of them and send it to Darius. ]
Look at them. There was never a more perfect creature. My null. My Rin. (My maybe-spouse!)
[...]
Endure this a while. It's twenty-five years of pent-up exuberance. Delight in measures longed for - mind you, Darius. Mind you I have always been happy. I have always been content with what they have been to me. But this is a different happiness. A different contentment.
I'm afraid it can't be contained. A deluge of zealous fanaticism. I've been telling anyone who'll listen.
My fucking face hurts from smiling.
[...]
Darius, I slept in their bed.
no subject
Did you send me a
Of course you sent me a picture. Sen. Wilkes. Senan. You’re in deep, aren’t you? …As if you haven’t been for god knows how many years.
…We’re all a bunch of fucking fools, aren’t we?
I might endure. I don’t promise that I’ll refrain from muttering my irritations. Which are and I suspect will be many, if you’re to insist on such effusive sentimentality.
Not to say it doesn’t suit you. Or to brush over your talent for turning even the grossest predilections into not-wholly-noxious lyrical disquisitions. But I swear by the name of all that fucks, if I leave this string of messages feeling the least bit saccharine, my curse - and this abject sin - will be a sin on your head.
You’re stepping perilously close with your ‘friend’ talk, Sen.Point one: If they’ve professed their love, you should probably expect Rin’s right beside you in bliss. Shit’s sake, when have the pair of you been far removed on any opinions? Two stubborn assholes in one asshole pod.
More precisely: You’re a dick, Wilkes, and a bona fide piece of shit, but they’ve always seemed to like you, and in fact I have it on semi-decent authority that they love you, so maybe start thinking of that - fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this - paradise as mutual.
…Can’t believe I’m saying this, either, but you might not make the worst husband.
And, fuck, what’ve you got to lose by asking? If, if they say no, you’ve only got a year, tops, to carry that rejection around.And if anyone can get a ring on that snarky little shit’s finger, it’s you.[ … ]
I can’t believe you sent a fucking photo.
[ … ]
All right. They’re looking good. Fine. Lucky you, etc. etc. (Again, no fucking telling them I said as much.)
Double lucky you - double lucky them? the way I hear it, you’ve both got talents to bring to the table
not that you showed much that time weyou know what never mind- if I’m reading you right about ‘sharing their bed.’ And I assume I’m correct; don’t need clarification. Thanks.Lucky Sen.
Lucky Rin.
An extra round of drinks when I see you. For celebration's sake.
[ … ]
You do remember I’m a menace at weddings, right? You remember who you’re talking to?
1/2
I've never shared a bed for sleeping, beyond the infrequencies of passing out in yours or theirs. It's novel.
Exciting.
[...]
They do bring talents to the table, by the bye. And if I have no talent to afford them in return, I believe well and truly I've atoned with earnest effort.
They are fucking ethereal unclothed. A work of art.
Ungentlemanly of me to speak of intimacies, but I will draw the line here and not comment further on their endowments for the sake of their privacy. For the sake of their self, and sanctity, and sacredness.
But.
Lucky Sen, indeed.
[...]
All right. TMI. But I must tell someone or I'll start shouting it to the rafters; I would tell Rin, themself, but they're busy.
And I did tell them. At length. In eight languages.
Do you know what it's like to hear someone shout their pleasure in eight different languages?
No one lets me talk mid-coitus. You didn't let me talk.
Christ, I think we spoke as much as we went about the business of it, Rin and I.
[...]
Darius, they have the most unparalleled ankles. Consummately flawless.
And I love them. I love every inch of them, with every thought I possess - so many more than ever may reach speaking, so there you have a measure of my adoration for Rin!
Fucking hell, they looked this way, and the light caught just so on their smile. I love them with every piece of my wretched heart.
I'll die happy, Darius. I swear it.[...]
You're a menace at Waverly's wedding. I doubt we'll have a flower girl that you can besmirch.
I want you there. They'll want you there, no matter this mysterious animosity you two are propagating. They may not like you just now, but we both love you. You know that.
Cunt.
[...]
Assuming there is a marriage. I haven't asked yet. It has to be romantically grand or grandly romantic or, at the outset, memorable. The proposal.
Or I'll race up to them and start begging. Begging is equally acceptable, I feel, when the one you want to wed is possessed of such incomparable transcendence, and you yourself are a bona fide piece of shit, a dick, and a stubborn asshole.
(The things you say to an ailing man. You're going to hell.)
2/2
It strikes me, Darius, that it may not merely be my own deliriously happy hue cast upon the world as I observe it: you seem damnably affable. As a matter of fact, I would hazard my health, wellbeing, and sanity, and suggest you've been overtly friendly.
What's gotten in to you, I wonder.
Lucky Sen, lucky Rin. Lucky Darius, as well?
More directly:
May one attribute your sudden conviviality to the company you've been keeping?
1/2
Just as YOU'VE spared precious little expense with your TMI. We don't all of us need Rin Renault's flawless ankles dancing through our heads, Sen.
Not to mention the rest of what youFuck's sake. Have your enjoyment if you must. Whatever. Christ.Can't say I'm surprised to hear the two of you managed tofuck[ ... ] [ ... ]fuck?[ ... ] do your business in an octet of languages. I find it stranger that either of you managed to reel in the bullshit long enough to take care of said business.Well. Guess they're into you, after all. Guess you're into them, too.
[ ... ]
Name the date when you know it. Could be I'll make an appearance.
[ ... ]
...Are you over there flat-out ogling them across the room? Creep. And here I thought you were gainfully employed.
Imagine me rolling my eyes here. Because that is in fact MY current employment.
2/2
Maybe you shouldn't wonder too much.
Maybe keep your nose in your own business[ ... ]
If. If I'm more 'convivial,' as you say [ ... ] it certainly isn't a product of this heinous excuse for a wedding.
[ ... ]
I'll allow that I've been keeping rather pleasing company[ ... ]
One may hazard the guess you've given.
One would not, I expect, be mistaken.
Don't FUCKING start with me, Wilkes, I don't want to hear it1/3
Ogling suggests some sort of nefariously sexual intent, and doing so now pursuant to satiation would be indecent. No, Darius. I am gazing. Staring, even. Wondering at them.
I am admiring them.
How the light strikes them like some divine glow. How they possess the room, no matter where they happen to be. How they smile at me.
At me.
My god, at me.
Do you remember the first time I met them? No, it must have been mundane to you, and perhaps has passed from your memory: just another night when 'Renault' was in your flat. But me. Darius, the world heaved beneath me. I was twenty; I had no fucking idea what I wanted - men, women, nothing, neither. I'd never taken interest in anyone for more than a moment or two. I thought I was too clever for that nonsense. Above it.
Hubris.
There was Rin in your doorway, looking like a crime of fashion (and possibly capable of other crimes, spawned of that godforsaken attitude of theirs), and the world stood absolutely still before it quaked. Shuddered me. Took all I knew and did nothing with it, only vanished it, as though Rin was an eclipse across my mind.
Upheaval and a midday nightfall. An apocalypse of the soul.
The ancients who wrote of angelic heralds - beautiful, terrifying, magnificent - must have known Rins of their own. That perfect creature.
I don't dare ogle them.
My Rin.
Christ. Darius. "My Rin".
[...]
And also. I am not technically employed by Rin. 'Gainful' is a misnomer. But were I gainfully employed, it would be included in the terms of said employment that I am to spend no less than ten minutes of every hour giving them my admiration, my appreciation, my attention - and, were I so inclined, my 'ogling'.
It is Rin, after all. :)
My Rin.
2/3
We are all of us capable of multitasking.
[...]
Their wrists are lovely, too, if talk of their ankles so repulses you. (How dare you hint at revulsion about my Rin.)
[...]
(MY Rin!)
3/3
That isn't like you.
[...]
I won't pry, of course. I only mean to suggest you have historically been prone to speaking at length about your conquests.
Well. Perhaps there is not, at present, a conquest about which you might speak.
I am, I confess, terribly curious about your company, and your reticence on the matter isn't helping in the least. Enri [...]
('your' Enri?)is an interesting development.[...]
'Your' Enri ?
1/?
2/4
I'll hurl my fucking phone into the Atlantic. Again. Don't try me.)
Never cared for free-wheeling conversation while fucking, myself. Then again, I find most conversation tedious, and rather beside the goddamn point.
Christ. The two of you are intolerable when you get at it, aren't you? Not that you were ever anything other. Can't imagine this revelation you've shared'll make things any less nauseating.
[ ... ]
Lucky thing you have each other. I guess.
Not that I'd be caught dead suggesting as much.
3/4
I'm rolling my eyes all over again. Christ.
4/5
5/6 i'm such a fucking liar holy shit
[ ... ]
For the week. 'Mine.'
Yes.Sure.Yes.Don't read into it.
Like that's going to fucking stop you.6/6
Enri is in fact perfectly sane. And lacks the exasperating qualities his kin show in spades.
He is not disagreeable company.
1/2
2/3 i lied
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1/2
2/3
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