somakemelaugh (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
somakemelaugh) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-10-08 11:53 pm
somakemelaugh) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-10-08 11:53 pm
open
who: Undertaker, Ciel, whoever!
what: Memory swaps!
when: Oct 9 - 23
where: Undertaker and Ciel’s apartment, various locations around the city as needed
warnings: Sadness and possible gore and Undertaker being an adorable idjit
For Ciel
Dreams these days are random for him, born out of the weirdness that goes on in his head and in his daily doings in the city and often combining to make something too far out of reality to confuse him into thinking that he might be awake and doing something out of the ordinary, as some dreams are wont to do. But sometimes, they’re quite the opposite. Sometimes, they’re terrible and fill him with the kind of horror that his customers - living or dead - might have experienced shortly before they found their way into his funeral parlor back home.
This one is much like that, for wholly different reasons. For instance, the face looking back at him as he stares into the mirror, adjusting a tie over a suit that he hasn’t worn nor seen in decades, is one he recognizes and does not. Clear of the scars he now carries, eyes visible and a startling blue, hair shorter and decidedly more blonde than gray, it’s a face he hasn’t seen in well over a century.
Somewhere behind the scene, watching it from his current body in resigned unhappiness, he goes tense as a familiar voice calls to him in the memory.
”Ah, there you are, Cedric! We’re waiting for you!”
The view turns as the man in the mirror looks away from his reflection. From an open doorway, another man stands, smiling, clearly excited. This man is younger, with dark eyes and hair of the same yellow cropped close to his head in an almost military cut. He wears a darker suit and looks quite sharp as he shakes his head. Then a look of shy nervousness briefly darkens his features.
”I was starting to think you’d changed your mind.”
The laugh that comes from the man in the memory is not Undertaker’s own, and it is all at the same time. He approaches the younger and puts a hand on his shoulder. The nails are flesh colored and short and the scar on his pinky finger absent like the rest.
”Oh, Thomas, you know I wouldn’t do that to you. I’ll be out in a moment. I just want to…”
Undertaker turns away, unable to watch anything more, and it’s then that he realizes he isn’t alone in this. Away and to the side stands Ciel.
It isn’t the first time that he finds himself glad for the hair hiding his eyes, but now it’s for a whole new reason.
what: Memory swaps!
when: Oct 9 - 23
where: Undertaker and Ciel’s apartment, various locations around the city as needed
warnings: Sadness and possible gore and Undertaker being an adorable idjit
For Ciel
Dreams these days are random for him, born out of the weirdness that goes on in his head and in his daily doings in the city and often combining to make something too far out of reality to confuse him into thinking that he might be awake and doing something out of the ordinary, as some dreams are wont to do. But sometimes, they’re quite the opposite. Sometimes, they’re terrible and fill him with the kind of horror that his customers - living or dead - might have experienced shortly before they found their way into his funeral parlor back home.
This one is much like that, for wholly different reasons. For instance, the face looking back at him as he stares into the mirror, adjusting a tie over a suit that he hasn’t worn nor seen in decades, is one he recognizes and does not. Clear of the scars he now carries, eyes visible and a startling blue, hair shorter and decidedly more blonde than gray, it’s a face he hasn’t seen in well over a century.
Somewhere behind the scene, watching it from his current body in resigned unhappiness, he goes tense as a familiar voice calls to him in the memory.
”Ah, there you are, Cedric! We’re waiting for you!”
The view turns as the man in the mirror looks away from his reflection. From an open doorway, another man stands, smiling, clearly excited. This man is younger, with dark eyes and hair of the same yellow cropped close to his head in an almost military cut. He wears a darker suit and looks quite sharp as he shakes his head. Then a look of shy nervousness briefly darkens his features.
”I was starting to think you’d changed your mind.”
The laugh that comes from the man in the memory is not Undertaker’s own, and it is all at the same time. He approaches the younger and puts a hand on his shoulder. The nails are flesh colored and short and the scar on his pinky finger absent like the rest.
”Oh, Thomas, you know I wouldn’t do that to you. I’ll be out in a moment. I just want to…”
Undertaker turns away, unable to watch anything more, and it’s then that he realizes he isn’t alone in this. Away and to the side stands Ciel.
It isn’t the first time that he finds himself glad for the hair hiding his eyes, but now it’s for a whole new reason.
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"So long as you don't mind, I am comfortable." When wasn't he though?
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"Stay, then. I'm not going anywhere." Not for several hours at least, with luck. The water would wait until morning.
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"Good." His voice went soft, and then he settled against Undertaker's side, head against his shoulder. "I'll move if you change your mind."
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He looked down at his roommate, considering. "If you do decide to stay, there is one thing I would ask of you, milord." Without vocalizing his request, he opened both arms in invitation.
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It wasn't nearly the hardest thing he could have asked for and it wasn't anything Ciel was unwillingly to give, squeezing the man slightly.
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Head ducked close for a moment, he spoke into Ciel's hair. "If you can't sleep like this, I'll let you go. But just for a while..."
He lifted his head again and put it back against the headboard, keeping his arms around Ciel's shoulders, letting the warmth there seep in.
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"Mm, this is okay." Hearing his heart, feeling his breathing, it was surprisingly relaxing. Maybe it had been he was younger as well, he couldn't remember. It was already enough that, if he wasn't careful, he'd fall asleep again soon.
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"That'll be just fine." Oh he was most certainly going to be sore in the morning. This position, the harsh wood of the headboard, would leave his back aching without a doubt, but he didn't have it in him to move them again. As they were, they could rest. He let his eyes close, turning his world from dark shadows into blackness absolute.
He slept again, sooner than he imagined he would.
no subject
He would probably shift a bit in his sleep but throughout the night, he stayed mostly settled in Undertaker's arms.