driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Tek and anyone!
Broadcast: Video
Action: Beachside lounging
When: Early August

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[the video feed flicks on to the glare of the sun, until the (absurdly) pretty man wielding the device leans back into the shade. he seems to be starting this broadcast mid-thought, and--for anyone who knows him well enough to spot the difference--he's smiling quite easily.]

--Oh, now I remember. I'd wanted to ask if there were any fine metalsmiths in the fleet. I'd intended to ask the next locals we happened across for their services, but... well. Metalworking does not seem to be among their most refined skills.

I'm looking for someone trustworthy and proficient in jewelry-making. I have several options for payment. If interested, please reply.

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[and with that matter done with, he settles back to wait in high comfort. for anyone happening by, he has found the absolute perfect spot along the shoreline. there is a stretch of clean, soft sand with an impeccable view of the ocean, tucked into the patchy, partial shade of a small stand of trees.

and he must be feeling better than usual, because he's actually wearing something that Atroma has given him--gothy-looking shorts that he has drawstringed to hang just a little off his hips--and he is sacrificing multiple layers of beach towels and blankets to the sand. he apparently doesn't care whether or not he'll ever get the sand out of them again.

Tek has made himself the most comfortable basking spot on the planet, and he has left more than enough room for a friend.

he knows that Atroma is messing with his head, but he can't find it within himself to be bothered right now. he even has a little brush and bottle of lovely dark maroon ink that he's staining his nails with. someone is glitched and enjoying every minute of it.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[and, by the nature of what he is, Tek doesn't need to look up to feel the pang. it's just what he is. he is a creature of anguish and sorrow, and he can feel it on him as if it was needling his skin.

he gives him a little moment, to breathe or not, before he pauses in his work and lifts his eyes. he's still holding the demon's fingers--firm and steady, with invisible little claws.]

But that is the way it is. We are mates.

[it's neither argumentative nor threatening. it's simply an easy statement of fact.]

[Crowley does all he can to avoid eye contact. He needs to run. Or do something. Anything. He belatedly realises it's far too late to nip this in the bud. He's already in far too deep, but the desire to run is still there. It's a great surge of self preservation.

He can't and won't put himself through all that again. ]

Well, I think I missed the memo. Probably got me confused with someone else.

[He's trying to sound his usual, laid back self, but the fear is seeping into his tone. ]

[with Crowley avoiding eye contact, Tek has a nice long moment to get a good look at him. and it's all there for him to read. he very much knows someone set to flee when he sees it.

so, it takes him a minute, but he finally shifts and changes tactic. suddenly, Crowley has his fingers back--Tek will allow him that freedom--and he's no longer being faced threateningly head-on.

because, Tek is scooting over now, sliding more around to settle at the demon's side than right in front of him, and everything about him quiets a little. because while he is still totally sure about all of this, he doesn't actually want to run him off.]

...Here. I'm going to explain something to you, all right? Because, I think you've got the wrong idea.

[Crowley feels his fingers freed before anything else, and very almost does run. It would be the wise thing to do. The safest. Better run now than regret not doing so later.

He doesn't run, though, he just sits there, looking as if he's waiting to be smited for some transgression. Only when Tek moves to sit beside him does he look up, his eyebrows furrowed. ]

Right. A misunderstanding. That's what this is about. Knew it.

[He doesn't sound all that convinced at all.]

Look... I don't know how you people do things, but my people have a very specific definition of what it means to be mates... and more often than not, it doesn't match up with human ideas on the subject.

[he's trying to do this the least frightening way possible, really.]

My kind all drift and hide, so when we do find each other and become mates... it tends to be fast and fierce... for as long as we happen to be together.

[and here is where he shrugs, meaning to be reassuring.]

Sometimes it is for two years, and sometimes only two weeks. We don't think ahead, and we never assume that it will be permanent.

So... [he smiles in that light, playful, sharp-toothed way that he likes to with the demon.] ...It's really what we've already been doing, isn't it?

[Crowley listens, and slowly, he relaxes. Not completely, there's a certain air of coiled tension there. He's worked for Hell for too long to not be wary of some sort of trap. Still, he exhales a breath he didn't need. ]

Oh. Well.

[He manages a lopsided smirk in Tek's direction. Time to turn back on that idle indifference. No almost breakdown here, nope. ]

Then in that case, yes, that's exactly what we've been doing. Good to know we're on the same page. Was worried you were looking to pick out drapes or some bollocks.

[and if there's any creature that would fit right in with the tempters of Hell, it's probably Tek. Crowley probably has every reason to be a little wary.]

See, the beauty of this is that I can go ahead and pick out all the drapes I want, and we can go on extravagant dates that will make bystanders seethe with jealousy...

And then, later, when it's all over... you can just burn the drapes, wipe your hands of the whole thing, and everyone walks away unharmed.

[simple as that.]

[Crowley gives a thoughtful 'hmm' sound, before going back to lounging on the blanket. The moment of flight, it seems, has passed. ]

I do enjoy making other people seethe in jealousy.

[He tilts his head a little in Tek's direction. ]

What? That's that? Washed clean hands and everything?

[Tek settles down in response-- not that he was honestly concerned that the demon would flee from him, of course. that would have been a very silly worry.]

Why? Is there a reason that it shouldn't be that way?

[He gives a soft, annoyed snort.]

Not at all. Who wants all that clingy bullshit?

So, there you go.

[he makes himself comfortable on the blankets, arms up and folded behind his head.]

You can calm down now and stop looking like you're about to leap out of your own skin.

[Crowley gives a soft huff of annoyance, more for show than anything else, but does indeed relax a little. ]

I wasn't doing anything of the sort.