Re: [m] la vita sanguinosa

[p. Basil]

POSTED: Sun Feb 11, 2018 10:24 pm

He sighed, the taste of the alcohol on his breath. It coated his tongue in an unfamiliar and slightly unpleasant sort of way. Why he made such a thing, he could not say, only that it gave his hands purpose and gave bounty to his home. It was all he could do, for he had looked for his duty in life. Making wine, planting things, it was all that he could do. He was a man who could not create children, so he grew what he could not create otherwise.

"It's strong to get you where you want to go." Not that he liked it. He really did not like being drunk, having experienced it so infrequently in his life. It was something that made him more volatile, less grounded. Alessan was comfortable with his spirit to the ground, rather than falling back and forth. But that night, he did not want to think about his lost mother, the star of their lives. He did not want to think about her mangled face. It was something that haunted his dreams.

He raised a cup. "To our parents." He downed it. By then, his blood felt more like wine than water, and his head was definitely starting to swim in a pleasant fog. The walls seemed to move, too, but he did not say as much. He knew that he was well on his way to being drunk, if he had not already crashed through it. The bowls were generously sized, especially for a lightweight.

Ale poured another round. He thumbed the lip of the bowl, feeling the chips and the faults in the glaze pass by under his pad. "Tell me, have you ever been with anyone?" He looked at Basil sidelong, nail catching on a chip in the cup.

ALESSAN STORMBRINGER
And I cannot decipher between the thrill and the fear. I want to stop but I like it too much to let it stop here

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voice from the past
from those conflicted nights

POSTED: Mon Feb 12, 2018 11:34 am

as i day drink... (+529)

It's strong enough to get you where you want to go. That was undoubtedly the truth, as Basil felt the familiar feelings of his head spinning while his sorrows drowned in the alcohol in his belly. It was not, perhaps, the most idle scene for the troubled two, but for the Butler male, at least, it brought some comfort.
He usually only drank before with friends, in happier situations. A shared bottle of whisky, sipped between belted Irish ballads down the streets of Halifax. A bottle of wine, split among a pair of loving youths, sharing their dreams and secrets as well. Or even once with Alessan, outside of the hotel, finding the warm spiced beverage more than soothing on the chilly winter day.
Back before all of this had started. Back before the usurping and bloodshed and tears.

Things were not paradisaical than, but at least drinking was for enjoyment... Not therapy.

"To our parents." The mongrel toasted, before washing away the memory with another helping of wine. While he was not far gone, the Catholic canine was well aware of his lack of sobriety. He was no stranger to being tipsy.
He wondered how his company was holding up, downing this sordid liquid for the same damned reason. But then it didn't matter.
He'd let Alessan drink without worry or judgment. They weren't there for that.

The question surprised him, though his somewhat drunken state mad that more obvious, as his eyes went wide and he perked his ear capable of doing so. "Hm? Been with anyone?" He repeated, then thought on it a while. Relationship wise, he'd tried a very open and casual stance with his Celtic friend in his younger years. Then there was Valencia quite soon after that. Maybe that qualified as being with somebody, but Basil was sure that wasn't the answer his guest was looking for.

"You mean, 'ave I fucked? No." He added quickly, idly toying with the crucification on his rosary around his neck, as if that was an explanation.
In truth, it was only an excuse. He, before, considered himself a prize, and sex to be a dirty thing. Only somebody worthy could drag him into debauchery without much fight from him. However, after many sleepless nights plagued with frustration and moments of resisted desire when he'd promised to take things slow with Lady Marino, the Courtier found it a silly idea to be so conceited.
He was a prize still, naturally. But maybe something instead that should be shared and enjoyed, like a word of God, or a fine wine.

...Or a strong, bitter, vile wine that while unpleasant did it's job exceedingly well.

The Butler son looked to Alessan, having only peered into his freshly poured drink for the moment instead of bringing it to his lips. "Why? 'Ave you?" He didn't think he truly cared, it was none of his business and nothing he'd ask anybody on any other day. He'd never even cared if his past love was pure or not, it just had never bothered him enough to worry over.
But for returned curiosity's sake, he'd ask, finally taking another small sip of wine.


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POSTED: Mon Feb 12, 2018 8:02 pm

Alessan took a drink, a slow one as the man answered. Naturally, he choked a little bit at the diction, a bluntness that he was not entirely used to. He liked being blunt, which was entirely part of his nature, but he felt as though others in his family had a habit of being a bit wishy-washy in that department. He knew his father did not beat around the bush, and Abigail usually didn’t. Actually, it seemed like he ought to have been far more prepared for that kind of an answer.

To say he was surprised was probably too mild a term. He was shocked. Except, then he remembered how reclusive Basil had been; Ale had not known him at all until the man appeared to sample his wine.

Ale coughed, clearing up the blockage of wine in his throat, fist to his lips. ”God, what a way to put it.” He was not particularly put off by it, as he had been once exposed to characters whose primary vocabulary seemed to come from the dictionary of swearing. Still, it seemed so weird to hear it said that way anyway.

Brushing away stray drops of wine from his vibrissae, he chuckled without a hint of embarrassment into his bowl of wine. It seemed like it was not the best question to ask, but it had never hurt to just ask. What had he to lose? He had lost his mother already, and there would be civil war the following day. There was plenty to lose, and he was unafraid.

”Sure have, but nobody stuck. They all kinda,” he trailed off as he wiggled his fingers through the air, the symbol for a dissipating vapor into the wind. ”You know? Before I even really liked ‘em.” Constantine had been around after, but he ended up with Niv. Then Con was gone, Niv mated to someone else, Ardoise away to work. His well had dried up, though he had only actually slept with Constantine.

Alessan leaned back, scooting to the wall. It was cold on his back. ”Never interested in anyone? Any ladies, guys?” There, he said it, as though it were nonchalant and a frequent conversational topic.

ALESSAN STORMBRINGER
And I cannot decipher between the thrill and the fear. I want to stop but I like it too much to let it stop here

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voice from the past
from those conflicted nights

POSTED: Tue Feb 13, 2018 12:51 am

-- (+530)

If Basil was anything, it was candid. Even his former Lady made mention of his habitually straight-forward and impulsive actions. They were traits that showed early in his puppy years, never one to dance around a subject or sugar coat.
It wasn't that he minded less blunt speech from others, in fact he found subtly almost poetic. It just wasn't for his use; like prose, it was best left to the professionals.

The mongrel couldn't help but lightly chuckle as the visitor seemed briefly startled. He couldn't assume as to what was so surprising, until it was clear his profanity was likely more vulgar than expected.
Despite being a loyal Catholic and Butler (which seemed to have a reputation of politeness accompanying the surname, no doubt the fault of his parents), the Seigneur was a frequent abuser of strong language.
Upon witnessing Alessan's reaction, the brat was only now likely to litter his conversations with swears more often.

The merle Courtier shrugged, taking a casual sip of his wine now. "I can't say I blame them, 'avin' been t'rough what I 'ave now." He shook his head, raising a hand as he interrupted himself, "Not meanin' I don't find it foolish of them to leave you, the bastards must be daft, but per'aps you're best off."

It was a sour way of looking at it, but that was one disadvantage of drinking that Basil abhorred; he opened up. Had there not been a more pressing desire to get drunk and forget about his problems for a moment, he would have consumed less in company. He'd regret what he'd said when he was sober, surely, but there was little stopping it now.
A heavy sigh left him, "What I mean is, look... Look at my mum. Your papa. They loved for years and now what do they 'ave but 'urt? Never takin' a fancy to someone prevents that empty, lost, worthless feelin' afterward." He fussed, setting his drink aside now. The frustration had very quickly shifted from that of their lost parents to the anger Basil felt toward his own failed relationship. Instead of talking about it or finding solace, the man simply hid away to wallow in self-pity, often snapping at Valencia's concerned family as if that was any sort of solution.

He scooted back alongside his guest and drew his legs to his chest, wrapping arms around them as he made himself small. "Oui. Truth is, I was this close to 'avin' a mate myself." The Butler son huffed, fingers nearly pressed together as he gestured. "But... Instead, 'ere I am. Years of lovin' with nothin' to show of it but spite and... apprehension. Part of me fancies the idea of growin' old with a lovely bird or charmin' chap, whoever 'appens to put up with me, I guess..." The wolfdog finally laughed softly, "Because it does feel awful to be alone... But it feels worse to feel abandoned." He rested his head on his knees, ears laid back as he tried not to let himself dwell on the past.
Instead he focused on the floating feeling gradually lifting his sinking feelings away, fleeting with the aid of alcohol.


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POSTED: Tue Feb 13, 2018 7:36 pm

Alessan laughed, waving his hand as though to dismiss the other man’s words. He did not blame them for not sticking, since it was partially his fault. His attachment to people grew horrendously slow and he was far more comfortable with a few solitary romps; it was easier than the work a real relationship needed, which explained why the Stormbringer had never been in a serious one.

But what Basil said made sense, and was partially why he himself had not tried to seek out a long-lasting companion. Yet, underneath even that, it was his inability to quickly form a loving bond. Love was energetically expensive, emotionally taxing, and he was unsure if he wanted to suffer. He watched his father cry over his wife, the family’s matriarch like a broken figurine. Whatever would remain after the dreaded Queen was gone would likely be a ghost of a proud man. Would Alessan be able to bear such a sorrow?

”I understand,” he said softly, under his breath as he looked a half-empty bowl of wine. He understood too well what the man described. It was his fears. ”I abandoned my family for a time, and came home when asked. I can’t seem to really abandon anything, it seems.” He had, after all, barely abandoned anyone in Sapient; no one had really seemed to miss him. Alessan wondered if it hurt more to be abandoned, or to not have anyone to risk losing.

”At least you’ve had someone to get that close with,” he countered, grinning sadly at the Butler son. He mimicked the pressed fingers toward him, laughing merrily despite the painful thoughts. He finished the bowl. What was it then? His fourth? It swam in his head.

”No one cared in Sapient when I left. Met up with two guys, one who was the leader and the person who recruited me to help found them. He was pleasant but I can tell, he did not care if I came back or whatever.” He rolled his shoulders, hiding the sadness he had not known he had over it by pouring more wine.

Then it clicked in his head and he ran a finger around the mouth of the jug. ”You wanna have sex?” he asked bluntly, not looking up from the wine.

ALESSAN STORMBRINGER
And I cannot decipher between the thrill and the fear. I want to stop but I like it too much to let it stop here

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voice from the past
from those conflicted nights

POSTED: Wed Feb 14, 2018 12:54 am

-- (+676)

It was strange to hear such a claim: I understand. Had it been anybody else, any other time, Basil would have called them out. It was simple enough a claim, but hardly ever backed by truth and real understanding. Nobody ever seemed to understand the wayward Butler.
But he believed, if only for solace in the moment, that his guest really did.

He was a bit shocked at Alessan's story, as it seemed so similar to his own. "I left my family as well, when I left to live in 'Alifax." The mongrel said, though it was more just aloud than directed toward his company.
He turned back to the King's son now, "Though I didn't return for them. They pleaded for me to come back, but it wasn't for them." He was stubborn enough to ignore his past and cut ties with even those bonded with blood. Nothing warranted the abandonment, it was simply convenient for him, if he was to prove he could be successful on his own.
But that had blown up in his face.

"I came back to the Court in 'opes of askin' Valencia to be my mate. Even after we decided it best to go our separate ways, nothin' really keepin' me 'ere, I couldn't find the drive to leave again. I guess I just got... Tired." The Courtier shrugged, not really sure why he'd stayed. There were benefits to pack life, undoubtedly, but it wasn't as if he'd made anything of himself as he'd anticipated before.
He could be a lowlife in Halifax, or the same in Lunenburg. Same shit, different city.

Despite their break up, the boy did consider himself lucky to have at least experienced love. Or, what it love? That was part of the reason the two split; he had always felt at disagreement with his emotions, and how was he to know what love felt like anyway? He missed Valencia, but part of him felt that it was merely the affection that he craved, not anything particularly from her. Another part wished they could have stayed together, because there was little hope finding anybody else that could make him feel as safe and comfortable as she did.
Maybe that was love, but it didn't matter now.

Basil offered a slight smile in response to Alessan's mimicry. "I guess it was worth it." He finally admitted. It was stripped from him, the title of significant other, but he did not necessarily regret the time he had with his Lady.

"I also 'ad a sort of open relationship with a friend before that. When 'e and I lived in as loners, it just seemed... Convenient, maybe?" There had never really been much of a reason for Kofei and Basil's dating. They liked each other, sure, but they were perfectly content being friends. It was silly to press for anything more. "We both knew before it started that it wouldn't last, but I guess that's part of growin' up. You do get into foolish shite and set your 'ead back on straight."

The mongrel had opened his mouth to reminisce some more, but was suddenly surprised by the blunt offer from his visitor. It'd seemed the tables had turned, as the Butler son sat with brows raised and speechless for some time. "...Do I?" Physically, he'd desired it before, it was only natural.
Excuses that he'd used before now just seemed to have postponed what he'd eventually wanted; he wanted to have sex.

He just wasn't expecting the chance now.

He chewed his scarred lip for a moment, heat rising to his cheeks, made worse by the alcohol in his system. "Oui, I do. Will it... Uhm." Basil shrugged, "Do you think it will make it feel better?"
It felt candid as they'd initially met to grieve together, to comfort each other, to just simply not be alone in their depression as their loved ones left them.
But if it was assured that it'd bring some sense of normalcy back to the Seigneur, he was more than willing.


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POSTED: Wed Feb 14, 2018 11:18 am

Alessan furrowed his brows. Was the man asking him if him, as though he was supposed to know how the other person thought or felt? It seemed more like a rhetorical question, so he remained silent without looking at him. It was not that he was bashful or overly hopeful, it just felt like the right thing to do. He never knew how someone would react to such a declaration, even if he had not really ever made it so boldly before. Alcohol and a grim reality forced his hand to be far blunter than he usually was.

Basil agreed. Brows raised, he finally turned his head to the man. There was only a slight hint of surprise at the outcome; alcohol had a way of loosening one’s moral center. And Basil was suffering through the death of his father. From the other things he had said, it also seemed that he had unresolved troubles with whatever romantic ventures he had failed. Valencia was a cousin of Ale’s, but he did not know her all that well so he could not really say anything about her.

”I can’t promise you that.” He shook his head, expression a bit stern. "But I promise I know what I'm doing." He could not promise the man anything about his emotional wellbeing or how he would feel. He himself knew that it he’d probably feel physically better and relaxed enough for the events that would transpire the next day.

Alessan turned slightly, taking the now open invitation and reached out to touch Basil’s chin, the decidedly dominant nature of his sexual nature freely emanating from him. For a decidedly relaxed and seemingly laid-back individual, he was a bit more energetic when it came to relations. ”Tell me no anytime,” he said simply, leaning forward and kissing the man with the drive of a man eager for sex without the emotional entanglement of a lover.

ALESSAN STORMBRINGER
And I cannot decipher between the thrill and the fear. I want to stop but I like it too much to let it stop here

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voice from the past
from those conflicted nights

POSTED: Thu Feb 15, 2018 12:00 am

-- (+311)

He didn't expect much of an answer. Feeling better was up to him alone, but that was what he was more scared of; the Courtier felt disconnected with his emotions, as out of control of them as he was with his physical self as well.
There were only a handful of others who knew of his illness as well, been there to witness his spells. He loathed even minor incapabilities, such as a lack of skills or talents, but there was something more than hatred to describe what he felt toward his difficulty understanding his feelings and his epilepsy.

The mongrel nodded, not really knowing what else to do at this point.

A heavy sigh left him, and he closed his eyes for a moment as he wanted for his head to stop spinning. "That's reassurin' then." Basil admitted, as it was likely at least less awkward with somebody more experienced at the reigns.

He swallowed hard as Alessan moved to face him, but tensed up for only a second.
He expected to be nervous, with second thoughts threatening to stop him, but there was nothing. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or maybe the numbness that came along with opening up; it always made him feel empty.
Whatever it was, it was cooperative. "Understood." The Seigneur said under his breath, focused more on the physical aspect than a conversation.
He was no stranger to kissing, he'd shared plenty with his Irish friend and before with Valencia as well.
But it always felt like a sudden chill, a rush throughout his body as his heart beat like a drum and he felt his body heat up.

Basil relaxed, more than willing to let his guest take control. God knows he'd tried and failed so many times. Maybe handing the responsibility to somebody else could give him some sense of security for once.


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