just here...... tending my plants

[zinit]

[Has it been six months? A year? Three? Qilby thinks it would be depressing to count, so he tries not to; still, the effects of days tick on his mind. The Zinit is busted, as an old piece of metal sometimes Just Does, and with Valerius gone, Qilby can't seem to find the muse to fix it.]

[But he tries: just going through day by day on an awkward momentum, like a top that stubbornly keeps spinning even though it's been put off-balance. He'll find what he's looking for somewhere no, he won't, his sister is dead and she isn't coming back or he'll die trying, with his wakfu back to his Dofus fuck-wherever and his body wilting into these half-dead shores.]

[If someone were to pop in on him, he'd have set up a bit of a camp for himself on the beach, all messy tarps and woven palm leaves. The Zinit towers in the distance, useless for now, next to a pile of failed experiments. He looks tired, but he's still at it, watering his little garden next to the sand.]

[Just a dude, tending his plants. No big.]

Comments

[poisonparadise]

[Valerius may not be familiar with Draconic itself, but Qilby’s tone tells him all he needs to know. The beast’s little experiment was a success. He can practically hear the indignance of being abandoned even if the Eliatrope refuses to convey it in his words. For all the power of his mask of numbness, the old man is almost as vulnerable to loneliness as Valerius is to boredom. Kindred spirits indeed. He wears the most disgusting shit-eating grin during the foreign tirade, then makes a note to pick through memories of such language later.]

[Feeling satisfied, and a bit amorous (he actually missed these little interactions for quite some time.) He tugs Qilby closer to himself by the beard, presses a kiss to his nose, and replaces his glasses for him. I knew you’d miss me. He doesn’t say, and is almost disappointed that they haven’t developed a telepathic connection yet. Perhaps in a few centuries…]

[He replies cheerfully, in that ever-disturbing sing-song tone of his. As he does so, something dripping appears in one of his gesturing hands--revealing a massive lump of stasis-soaked sin.]

Only a plethora of positively purulent planets ripe for the reaping; And not a single one touched by yours truly...except for sample-collecting, of course.

[He's awfully thoughtful for a gluttonous sinbeast, isn't he?]

[zinit]

[They'd better be some fucking good planets--]

[Qilby shoves his hand through a portal at his side, makes a series of rude gestures a few meters away where Val can't see them - and he absolutely does not lean into that kiss on his nose, no way, absolutely not, and it does not fluster him. With his glasses over his eyes once more, he peers over the sin sitting thick in Val's palm.]

How sweet. You sh-- [Pardon him as he sneezes into his sleeve.] You shouldn't have. In fact, next time, don't. [Or do. He doesn't care. He could've fixed the Zinit all on his own and flown off into the stars to go find his sister again, and what would you have done then, buddy? What then???]

[But, you know, since Valerius is here and clearly owes him a favor--]

On the bright side, it shouldn't take more than a bit of sin to get this old bastard [he motions to the Zinit] off the ground.

[poisonparadise]

[Oh, he will. Just with bigger, slimier piles next time. It’s how he shows his…”affection”.]

[Valerius has most likely considered the multiple ways that he himself would be ditched, and planned accordingly. All those samples Qilby’s taken of his chemical make up? He can simply reform from them by following the sin. Any residual stasis? He can merge with that too. It’s all very simple, just as long as Qilby doesn’t regret any of the atrocities he committed…

Which, the Beast has very much realized will remain that way.

Valerius chuckles at the small tells Qilby gives him, allows the sin to disappear into a gash on his hand, and uses the same one to pat the other’s chest]

Well, then it’s fortunate that you’ve plenty in that filthy soul of yours, isn’t it?

[zinit]

[Coyly:] Hm, it could be so defined. [You could also, through a Chuck-e-Cheese-style play-tube setup of mental gymnastics and self-justification, say he did nothing wrong. Qilby tends towards somewhere in the middle, he likes to think. If he regrets anything, it's not getting off that "home" of his sooner.]

[It feels wonderful, he'll admit, to have physical touch again - really, anything but the itch of plants and the metal of the Zinit's innards. Qilby's hand traces up Valerius' arm from his elbow to the tips of his fingers, ending where those claw-like nails press into the gape in his shirt. That's what he missed, more than anything - the conversation, the sniping, and the touch.]

You're one to talk, for "filthy," aren't you? I wonder sometimes if you're capable of anything but hedonism.

[poisonparadise]

[With a malevolent, melodious laugh:] Darling, weren’t you listening all those years ago? [He knows that Qilby hasn’t forgotten] It’s what I do, and who I am: One that revels in the suffering and devours the souls of those unworthy of paradise…

[Without missing a beat, Valerius laces those devious hands with the Eliatrope’s, his smile radiant] Then again, it is a bit too different from your ways to comprehend, isn’t it? I only recall giving you the basics back on that rainy day, as we festered on the decaying corpse of Amoi…

[Placing his other hand to his chest, he continues] I can resume my divine task of judging souls whenever I want and forsake the hedonism in it...The trouble is, it’s terribly dull down in that hell of mine, and by doing so, you’d lose your precious energy source.

[He reaches out and threads fingertips through Qilby’s hair, now showing off a smirk without sharp teeth for once] And neither of us want that, now do we?