Kenos Inbox

[damnpire]

voice / text / communion

D's mind is a cacophony of things.

The landscape is shadow and darkness, and it is chilly and reserved where D sits in it; he feels like a simple young man. Quiet, soft, human. But behind the stoicism is a warm, sensual, and elegant sliver of something primordial and powerful. Embracing it is hypnotic, arousing, yet also a little horrifying.

Amidst all of this is something else, too: a craggled and old presence which can be heard on occasion cackling or chattering separately, the crusty voice belonging neither to D or the peculiar entity in the space.

Comments

BACKDATED TO LATE WARQU, PRE-BEACH.

[redsoil]

[ — the point where Communion violently begins is born from the sense of intimate connection developed between two individuals.

It is very obviously a burning, bright thing from Set, whose mind scatters into the corners of those he has forged some sort of companionship with — for duty, for responsibility, for fun, for solemn vow. What arrives is the briefest sense of rising disorientation, woven through with a burst of wrath and grief so white-hot that it might char flesh from bone within seconds, shot through with rapture and the whiplash of love. It rises like a dying, murderous sun ( like Meridian ) — stifling and acute and suffocating — only to be tempered within seconds, by the cool, crisp wash of the dark sea ( like Zenith ), tempered and soothed with all edges laid flat once more.

The Communion plunges into quiet and calm, like a great, purring beast, and ends as abruptly as it began.













d gets this because he's the anubis proxy and that gives him weird Rights im sorry ]

[damnpire]

[me just finishing a tag and getting this like set, you good buddy???

The emotions which suddenly curl up over the bed of his mind are a little familiar, but more than that, the presence itself is extremely recognizable. The chaos of everything is as disconcerting as the abrupt end, and he wonders if something is wrong.

Then it's gone, and the more placid pieces of his mind try chasing what was left in its wake.]

Sutekh?

communion. i know i said he was going to avoid d but consider: i want to tag you

[lockedon]

[ Eustace has been left with a lot of time to think while camping out at the Tree of Life, waiting for Dokja to dig his way back out of the dirt like some nondescript BL zombie. Namely, he's thought deeply about his actions during the last Oracle and how deeply embarrasing they were, and it's probably time to make amends for his actions as much as he would like to pretend they never happened.

So! Here he is, knocking politely at D's mental door. ]

Is this D?

val......

[damnpire]

[Stupid ass Dokja. D is also going to pretzel that dude after he digs out of the earth.

Eustace is already doing better than Set. Joining D's headspace politely gives D time to push all of the terrible vampiric things back out of the way. A cool and steely sort of weight blooms in Eustace's mind. The quietness is familiar; the space is full of a strong, dark silence.

At the edges is a primordial, powerful energy which curiously tries to inspect Eustace with a strangely sensual and languid interest. A dark thing with glowing carnelian red eyes.]

Yes.

[He at least doesn't yell HEY IT'S EUSTACE THE DUDE WHO SMOOCHED ME.]

Are you feeling better?

communion, around evening on some oct day.

[salvageable]

[ BARGES INTO D'S MINDSPACE. ]

What are you doing right now?

[ What happened to hello? How are you? ]

[damnpire]

[WHY!! He's hanging on by a THREAD!

As Dokja barges in, the rolling and sensual turmoil is siphoned almost immediately away, leaving behind a warmth slowly beginning to turn chilly and familiar.]

Nothing that can't be put aside. Do you need something?

a memory—

[kenosnpcs]

[ Very suddenly, there’s a sense of Communion touching your character’s mind. However, it’s as if they connect with the mind of a shared Aspect, as they’re not able to block out the brief, but sharp memory that comes to them. ]

There’s a exhilaration of doing something just a little bit taboo as the Shard-Bearer shares an excited giggle with their friend on the dusk-darkened beaches of Springstar. As quick as they can, they take off their clothes and run into the surf, and they’ve never felt so free of their world’s restrictions than that moment.

[ ooc note — Just to avoid OOC confusion/misinterpretation, the details included in this memory are random and are not necessarily interconnected or plot meaningful beyond a surface level. However, your character is free to interpret this random memory however they’d like! This event will also be touched on somewhat during today’s NPC Communion Post. ]

early november; 🧃

[lockedon]

[ So it's been like. Two weeks after Dokja's impromptu offer to D and subsequent move-in, and things have been....fine? They've been fine. True to his word, D has kept largely to himself, and out of respect for Dokja and Gray (who both seem to have no problems with this new living arrangement) Eustace has also kept largely to himself by being out of the house more often than not.

A perfect symbiosis (no).

But with the passage of time comes familiarity, and if Eustace isn't necessarily any friendlier with D he is at least more tolerant of the other man's presence in the household. He might not initiate lengthy conversations still but he's at least begun to include D in his personal calculations. Like today, for example, as he stands in the kitchen taking tally of their groceries. He should probably check and see if there's anything D needs from the market.

He knocks on the guestroom door (no answer), then peers around the backyard (only the chickens are there). Hm. Maybe the stable...? Time for him to head over and peer inside.

Whatcha doin' in there, bud.... ]

not the juice box

[damnpire]

[D isn't doing anything out there at all... Definitely not vampire stuff. Just chilling... alone, away from everyone, tinkering.

If it hadn't been obvious the black, horned steed was a cyborg, the faint noises coming from the stable might be taken as D sharpening a nice, vampire hunting weapons. But as Eustace peers in, he'll see D sitting on a very low stool at the horse's flank without any of the grandiose additions to his outfit. (Just the "onesie"...) He's even missing the hat.

The closest horse's leg is bent up on the top of D's knee, and the calf panel lies open for D's long fingers and screwdriver to dig inside the wiry innards. Eustace's arrival earns a light huff through the horse's nose; the red eyes are already watching the man. D could hear Eustace's footfall from the house, but he finishes what he's doing before he slowly lifts his head. At first, he doesn't glance back. He watches Eustace's reflection in the gleaming black of the horse's metal leg plates.

And then slowly, D turns his head just enough toward his shoulder he can cut his eyes at Eustace. The red, fuzzy dotted glow on the horse's leg makes more sense now: there's a subtle carnelian hue to D's eyes, easy to spot surrounded by his thick, dark lashes.]

Do you need something?

[The tone of his voice hasn't changed--low, deep--but the sound hold a strange and alluring sensuality now.]

backdated to iqnu

[warmare]

[Hayame's impression in Communion is... intense, like a blizzard howling bitterly cold and lashing at the stone of a barren mountain, anything warm or soft (or hurt or weak) only allowed to exist if it was hidden deep in the dark. It is part of why she does not like Communion at all. But for the initial contact... It is what she has. She... She has not been back to Springstar since-]

D.

[... "Dee"?]

It is Hayame.

[They have not spoken in "private", not simply the sharing of Communion space with many Meridians, since... Xanadu? Yet she is contacting him directly now. Naming herself, as if he might already have forgotten who she was.]

- Do you have time to speak?

[damnpire]

[Wow, Hayame really comes in... well, not hot actually. It's funny how this presence tells him more it's Hayame than anything else.

For what it's worth, it doesn't seem to bother him because his mind opens coolly and politely to her in return.]

Hello. Go ahead.

[Now why in the world would Hayame need to call on someone like him?]

invades your inbox again, action.

[lockedon]

[ It's been a few days since his revival and stumbled trip back home from the Great Tree. He'd been debriefed oh what had happened after his death - the Meridian victory, D's attempt at retrieving his Shard - and now that he no longer feels heaviness tugging at his limbs, it's time to pay a certain someone a visit.

He still doesn't look the picture of perfect health as he tracks down D within the confines of the house, faint dark circles still smudged into place underneath his eyes, but at least he's standing up straight, gaze and voice both clear. ]

Are you busy?

[damnpire]

[Oh... He has been graced by Eustace's presence...

It had been easy to know Eustace was back because a kind of warm weight fluttered in his breast when the Tree spit tbe man out once more. As much as he would not want Dokja and Gray to lose their companion, he almost wished Eustaxe had somehow found a timestream where his soul could surf home again.

For once, he is in the room of the house which had been given to him, the door left open since he is doing little else except sitting inside at a tiny table constituting a desk. The outer layers of armor are gone, as is the left forearm and hand from the elbow down. There is no extra fabric; he's patiently sewing the opening to the arm closed with a large, curved needle and thick hide thread.

He glances up when Eustace enters, pausing.]

No.

[He motions to the bed, if Eustace wanted to sit.]

You can come in.

delivery

[sterngaze]

[On the shortest day of the year—or the longest, by Springstar’s calendar—Liem makes his rounds to play Santa himself, though without the red-and-white costume. For the past few months, his regular visits to Springstar’s community centre have been in service of crafting handmade solstice gifts for the people in his life. This time, unlike last winter, he’s prepared.

Some of the items he brings are simply handed over without fuss: a couple pleasantly spiced bars of hand-mixed soap and a pair of fat, equally pleasant candles. The last item he delivers, with a bit more care, is a pair of carefully embroidered leather gloves. They’re a bit on the thicker side, meant for wearing in cooler climates, though still slim enough to avoid being clumsy. Kind of awkward that D only has one hand now, oops, but… he can still wear one glove, at least.]

(backdated) delivery

[lockedon]

[ though once again, is it really a delivery if they live in the same house....

D, like Gray, will find a small wrapped gift sitting outside his door (because Eustace would also never infringe on his privacy and actually go into his room without permission) one day during the holiday season. Alas, D does not get a fancy cape but he does get a nice notebook and pen set for any notes he would like to jot down (or future short stories he would like to write????). There's also a little gift certificate to one of the stores in town that sells equine supplies, because unfortunately he didn't know what Erebus liked or needed. Sorry Erebus.

As per his usual habit, there's a note (unsigned) that simply says Happy holidays. ]

[damnpire]

[GRITS TEETH AT ALL THESE CUTE GIFTS IN MY INBOX]

pretend it's xmas

[gravings]

[ Gray will also leave a somewhat large present outside D's door, or hand it to him in person if he happens to rise earlier than she does. The wrapping is all easily torn by one hand. It contains: highly plush slippers, a bag containing small cubes of English fudge, this whole damn outfit, and a card. The card reads: ]

D,

Thank you for always being patient with me, and for making this home a more pleasant place. I'm glad you decided to stay with us. I never expected to make a friend I could relate to so well.

I know eating food isn't easy for you, but just in case you'd like to taste it, I included a bit of fudge that was common to my homeland. It should be safe to feed to Erebus too. I also think I was given a parcel meant for him by mistake...

Merry Christmas! (If you don't have Christmas in your world, I can try to explain.)
Gray

[ On one side of the card is a simple brush drawing of Erebus, sparkling from a fresh polish. ]

new year's delivery

[warmare]

[On the first day of the new year by the Kenosian calendar, a courier arrives with two packages for D's household. Within the one addressed to him is a long black robe that resembles the fashions she is used to from her own world. Close enough, anyway.

The courier takes out a note he had taken down that contains a message from the sender, which is revealed to be Hayame, reading it out somewhat in a rush (he's behind schedule). Something about it being tradition in her lands to impart gifts of new clothing for the new year, something about that it would honor her if she were to wear it, they'll be in each other's care for the coming year, yadda yadda yadda...

And then the courier rushes off to his next delivery!!!!]

action ; highstorm, mid-january

[epiprocta]

[ I'm so grateful that D is a big nerd who probably would go spend some time in the huge library in Highstorm just for the sake of having access to books, otherwise I'd be dying trying to figure out how the hell to justify this incoming trainwreck. Anyway.

Despite the Tomes being located in Highstorm -- ostensibly his own home turf -- Gen's the one who feels awfully out of place there. He's never been the bookish type, after all. His career path had been decided as far back as he can remember, after all; studying was always a pointless waste of time for him, given he had a lifetime of manual labor awaiting him, and so he'd never trained himself to appreciate the joys of learning. The only reason he's here now is because recent events have placed him in a position where he needs to learn some of the finer ins-and-outs of blacksmithing magic, stuff beyond what he can just learn through practical experience and trial-and-error. It's a few hours now he's been hunched over a table with a stack of books, one hand tangled through his hair as he slogs through texts, teeth gritted and brow furrowed as he struggles to process all this new information ... aided by a liberal helping of drinks from that nearby kiosk, of course.

What's he even had to drink by now? Who knows! He'd just picked something random off the menu each time, but he's definitely had more than he should have by now.

But even they have their limit in how much they can aid his focus. (Or maybe they've just been making it harder, without his realizing it.) Hours in, and his gaze keeps drifting across the floor of the Tomes, skimming across the scenery and the faces of various strangers in search of a valid distraction. When he spots a face he does recognize, he automatically sits up straighter in his seat, suddenly feeling much more alert. (It's just because now he has an excuse to ditch these books, he tells himself. That's all. It's not like there's any deeper meaning behind why his pulse is suddenly quickening a touch.)

Does D sense the rancid presence of his thrall somewhere nearby? Or does the bustle of the holiday crowd block out that sensation for him? Either way, he's suddenly being accosted by ... a stranger. A tall one that he definitely doesn't recognize -- longer brown hair, soft green eyes, dark skin -- who suddenly wraps an arm over his shoulder and leans in close to croon into his face, ]

What brings you here, stranger?

[ It's Gen. He's just been practicing his disguise magic, and he can't resist the temptation to try and punk D a bit. (It's totally just a fun coinkydink that this gives him an excuse to get up close and personal with D, haha. No meaning behind it at all. Don't worry about it.) ]

[damnpire]

[It's very true that D is actually a huge nerd. When he isn't busy being burdened by the kindness of helping the others with the house, or the cafe, he occasionally spends some downtime in different libraries, still trying to find some scrap of information about Kenos's scrubbed-clean history. Gen will find him nestled between some shelves--and, strangely, not in his usual ridiculous garb...? Well, the fitted leather tunic and pants are there, but the pauldrons and long cape have been exchanged for what Gen will understand is probably a black... haori? The hat is also missing from his head, but it is probably around here somewhere...

And it's true he can always feel the lingering blip of Gen when nearby. His life doesn't revolve around hustling Gen, though, thankfully, so he leaves Gen be unless absolutely necessary. Even if they are haunting the same vicinity.

What's weird to him is the muffled hum of Gen together with a stranger's appearance. Funny, Gen can now have a taste of a lot of D's true feelings. How placid his face remains when he turns, but how a thick current of defensive annoyance bounces through him as he's intimately accosted. He isn't disgusted so much as wary. Personal space! Having people embolden by his beauty is not new to him, but he still has boundaries.

He closes the book resting in his palm with a snap of finality. Carefully, he returns it to the empty slot on the shelf. And then he turns two intensely scrutinizing, rust-colored eyes onto the stranger. Hmmmmm.]

I'm busy. Who are you?

anyway. action, mid-january.

[lockedon]

[ He doesn't want to drag D into his own personal problems but at the same time D does living in the house and deserves a heads up, so! One fine January Emru day, D will be the recipient of a brief visit wherever he is. ]

D. [ The world's shittiest greeting. ] We're having a small celebration for Dokja's birthday next month. You're not required to be there, though I'm sure Dokja would appreciate it if you were there.

[ He says this but Dokja doesn't actually know it's happening yet?? It's fine, he's still probably in the right about this. ]

[damnpire]

[This greeting is the worst, but D accepts it without complaint because he gives the same exact greetings most of the time.

Imagine I make him naked and changing (no). Eustace can catch him doing some house chores.

He is surprised to be invited to a birthday...... And as much as he would deny everyone his presence, he would feel bad when Eustace is right.]

Does he know?

[LOOK!!! DOKJA DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE HE WAS A VAMPIRE.]

backdated to right after aetos' post

[warmare]

[Hayame's presence in Communion feels... different, compared to the last time they had spoken privately. It's hotter, like something afire, even though she had once been cold as ice, even when her voice was a scalding lash of,]

What in the sixteen hells do you think you are doing?

[damnpire]

[COMING IN HOT.

The molten lava of her anger slows as it hits his chilly demeanor, but his mind doesn't stop it from pooling in. The ice is only calm reservation, not any kind of aggression. The fact it's Hayame already tells him what this is probably about.]

Volunteering. [He's honest if nothing else.] It's a trial I'm willing to undertake if it brings us closer to understanding Oblivion and keeps others from having to volunteer themselves.

early erqu, right after the demon-vampire-witch summit

[semicharmed]

[ After a social interaction that was 100% Matt's fault, but also awkward in ways he could never have predicted, he packed up his pile of uneaten pastries and slunk away with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

One unresolved issue itches at him. Sebastian said he found it productive that Matt shoved him and D together, said he forgave Matt's meddling, but Matt didn't hear anything similar from D.

Matt's Communion has a sense of starry vastness, buoying as warm water. He's not fully in control of the landscape, to say the least, but he's endlessly curious about it. ]

Um, just wanted to say to you specifically ... I'm sorry.

[damnpire]

[D's presence stands in the middle of the starry expanse like a cool little ice cube, but he doesn't bar Matt from entering. And now that Matt shares a taste of a connection to him, he can feel the familiar and terrifying shadow more readily behind the curtains of his mind than most.

It feels like D, but a darker version of D, something sultry and powerful, something watching Matt from the sidelines with interest.]

You didn't know. You should be careful calling him a friend. He's a demon.