ArchivedLogs:Shutting Off Worry: Difference between revisions
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| location = <XS> Boathouse | | location = <XS> [[Boathouse]] | ||
| categories = Mutants, Xavier's, Shelby, Rasa, Ivan, XS Boathouse | | categories = Mutants, Xavier's, Shelby, Rasa, Ivan, XS Boathouse | ||
| log = Perpetually filled with the quiet background noise of the lapping tide, the boathouse is a cozy escape from the mansion proper. The few boats docked here are small, but suffice for sails around the lake (or, in the case of the one swift powerboat, a speedy motor around it) -- posted signs by them remind users of the regulations required for their use. Tucked away in the back half of the boathouse are living quarters, small and spartan and snug, with a kitchen, bathroom, small sitting area, and a bedroom fit for two. | | log = Perpetually filled with the quiet background noise of the lapping tide, the boathouse is a cozy escape from the mansion proper. The few boats docked here are small, but suffice for sails around the lake (or, in the case of the one swift powerboat, a speedy motor around it) -- posted signs by them remind users of the regulations required for their use. Tucked away in the back half of the boathouse are living quarters, small and spartan and snug, with a kitchen, bathroom, small sitting area, and a bedroom fit for two. | ||
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<< I like Vanya. >> Rasa replies softly, breathing out a happy sigh as lips find hir jaw. Each bit of skin he touches turns pink and yellow with joy, little spirling curliques slipping away and decorating more of hir skin under his touch. Hir cheek leans nearer to his face and hir eyes flutter closed contently. The feedback across the telepathic link is that of buzzing excitement and enduring comfort, thoughts of actual lunch and classes afterward melting away. << My Vanya. >> Ze smiles, one hand reaching back once more to rub his back, checking to see how tense he is. Ze hopes he is relaxed, but needs to be sure. | << I like Vanya. >> Rasa replies softly, breathing out a happy sigh as lips find hir jaw. Each bit of skin he touches turns pink and yellow with joy, little spirling curliques slipping away and decorating more of hir skin under his touch. Hir cheek leans nearer to his face and hir eyes flutter closed contently. The feedback across the telepathic link is that of buzzing excitement and enduring comfort, thoughts of actual lunch and classes afterward melting away. << My Vanya. >> Ze smiles, one hand reaching back once more to rub his back, checking to see how tense he is. Ze hopes he is relaxed, but needs to be sure. | ||
It proves a chore, getting Ivan to relax completely - even in his mind, that tightly-wound coil of worry persists, but is pushed to the back of his mind to the best of his ability. Similarly, his muscles occasionally /twitch/ to show as much. It is concern about going to Russia, concern about what he'll find when he gets back, and concern about what he /won't/ find. Peter, | It proves a chore, getting Ivan to relax completely - even in his mind, that tightly-wound coil of worry persists, but is pushed to the back of his mind to the best of his ability. Similarly, his muscles occasionally /twitch/ to show as much. It is concern about going to Russia, concern about what he'll find when he gets back, and concern about what he /won't/ find. Peter, Jax, Shane and Sebastian. Concern with being left out of the loop and being completely helpless. | ||
But... none about this. He's sure about /this/. And it's working to try and overthrow the other thoughts as a temporary reprieve, managing to do so quite quickly now. What is more infectious, after all, than that excitement buzzing back straight into the brainpan. In a final death throe of surfacethoughts regarding Things Outside of This Space, << going to miss class >> floats idly by. Perhaps hoping to be ignored, because it dissipates into nothing almost before it even manages to make itself known. What replaces it is more comfort! And the growing urge to maybe never want to leave this boathouse again, if at all possible. His hand on Rasa's neck flattens against hir skin, and his mouth finds hirs. Vanya will do, it seems. He finally stops staring, and shuts up. | But... none about this. He's sure about /this/. And it's working to try and overthrow the other thoughts as a temporary reprieve, managing to do so quite quickly now. What is more infectious, after all, than that excitement buzzing back straight into the brainpan. In a final death throe of surfacethoughts regarding Things Outside of This Space, << going to miss class >> floats idly by. Perhaps hoping to be ignored, because it dissipates into nothing almost before it even manages to make itself known. What replaces it is more comfort! And the growing urge to maybe never want to leave this boathouse again, if at all possible. His hand on Rasa's neck flattens against hir skin, and his mouth finds hirs. Vanya will do, it seems. He finally stops staring, and shuts up. |
Latest revision as of 01:55, 20 May 2014
Shutting Off Worry | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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2013-05-20 ' |
Location
<XS> Boathouse | |
Perpetually filled with the quiet background noise of the lapping tide, the boathouse is a cozy escape from the mansion proper. The few boats docked here are small, but suffice for sails around the lake (or, in the case of the one swift powerboat, a speedy motor around it) -- posted signs by them remind users of the regulations required for their use. Tucked away in the back half of the boathouse are living quarters, small and spartan and snug, with a kitchen, bathroom, small sitting area, and a bedroom fit for two. As a wild free period dawns upon a couple different students' schedules, Rasa decides to opt not to study in the library for once. It is nice out and the outdoors must be enjoyed! Ze takes off to seek out hir roommate for a review of her weekend away. Ze's grabbed enough food from breakfast to make this as long of a time away as possible, hir little bag lunch wrapped in napkins and then wrapped once more in a colorful cloth handkerchief. Ze has opted to wear short sleeves for once, the top is a vibrant blue brocade with a Mandarin collar, paired with a pair of swishy black pants and flip flops. Ze doesn't exactly sneak out, but ze does try to avoid a lot of attention as ze makes hir way to the boathouse rendezvous. Ze pushes the door open and looks around, hir eyes taking a moment to adjust to the light within. Hir skin is finally devoid of green, for the first time in a week, wearing a pleasant mixture of bright yellows and pinks with streams of silver and gold lacing through hir like tattoos. The tail is still there, but it matches nicely, though dragging the trousers a little low, as they are not made for tails. From afar, ze almost boasts a normal skin tone. "Hello? anyone in here?" Just in case... someone is using the little bedroom for recreation. The big surprise is probably that Shelby is /not/ using the little bedroom for recreation. She is, however, using the teeny tiny bathroom. The door is closed and a flush sounds only seconds after Rasa arrives. She emerges a moment later, wiping wet hands on the seat of her fraying almost-too-short denim cut-offs. Her Doobie Pope tee is knotted, as per usual, over her belly button, and she’s got her hair in low pigtails today, one over each shoulder--showing how the left side is significantly shorter than the right. Haircut mishaps, man. Nothing to be done. “Rasaaaaaaa,” she hoots by way of greeting, ambling over towards the bench where she’d left her guitar. “What’s hangin’?” Ivan's approach to the boathouse comes with a tiny amount of trepidation - he is a creature of habit and the boathouse is a place yet unfamiliar to him. But! He's coming anyway, the sleeves of his blue grey plaid button-up shirt rolled up and with (as of late) almost customary grass-stains littering his jeans as he pads closer in a beeline. A few critters trail behind him in the air - three butterflies, some bees, a wasp or two, and some gnats to go along with it. But the closer he gets to the boathouse, the bigger their flight paths get. Until eventually, when he is close enough to the door that he can hear voices, they are released from his mental leash, off to fly away as they please. He smiles, and presses on. Familiarity! He has found it. Now to pursue it, ambling closer to enter. Rasa leaves the door open behind hir and wanders in when it is confirmed that there isn't escapades to be interrupted. Instead, they are to be joined! "Not much, I think. Maybe?" Tail bounces around, curled upward in a somewhat at peace position. "How's the city? Didn't burn down yet?" A glance toward the door yields a little smile from the metamorph, tail twitching in a welcoming gesture toward Ivan. "Come on in, Ivan. We're all friends here." Eyes shift between the idea of sitting on the pier with feet in the water and the relaxation of the bed, and moves toward the later, climbing on top. "I spoke to both Jax and Kurt, if you're curious." “Nah, still standing. Mostly. Flicker and Ian had a party last night, they finished another year of college. That was kind’ve nice.” And god knows nice has been in short supply of late. Shelby flops down onto the bench, arranging herself cross-legged with the guitar across her lap. “Hey Ivan.” The greeting is friendly, the sharp look she gives him is less so--at least until she ascertains whether or not he is accompanied by his little friends. Seeing none, she deigns to give him a smile. “C’mon in, Rasa brought munchies.” Her thumb strokes the strings and makes them sing out, but further musicality is put on hold so she can tilt her head at the roomie. “Oh yeah? Seriously? Damn...someone took my advice, that’s like...prime,” she says with a grin. “What’d they say?” Ivan plays fly on the wall! Mostly. He remains quiet, calmly ambling inside and towards Rasa after an initial nod in greeting toward Shelby - though his smile wanes just ever so slightly. Indeed, there don't... /seem/ to be any bugs on him. Let's hope there aren't, because the next thing he does is oh so casually sidling up to the bed Rasa is on, so he can sit down on the end of it. A single, large and yellow butterfly follows him through the door and messily flaps about. Aaaaa inside. Rasa nudges hir shoulder against Ivan when he sits down, hir posture much more relaxed. "Well, I have to talk to Professor Xavier now. Everyone seems worried about my sense of self. I … do not disagree with them." A little sheepish, ze grabs a pillow and clutches it to hir chest for the time being. "Oh. Snacks." Ze moves hirself more toward the head of the bed and lays out the bundle of food on the bed in between hirself and Ivan, untying it. "Jax made me an entire tray of brownies, so those are in there. They had pancake wrapped sausages at breakfast, so I took a bunch of those too. I think they're still tasty cold. I don't know." The rest of it is small bags of trail mix and bread." Rasa stuffs the pillow under hir head and closes hir eyes. "Ku... Mr. Wagner is going to teach me how to do some free-running. That will be amazing." “Fuckin’ A, sausages.” Shelby has the guitar set aside in a flash in order to stand and go inspect the choices on offer. She is diverted briefly, however, by the butterflies--it hadn’t occurred to her that Ivan could control /them/. Charming! The girl watches them dance for a moment before hunger takes over and she resumes course for foods. “Hell, Rasa, /I/ was worried when you said a monster got in your head,” she remarks as she reaches for goodies. “Nothing wrong with him having a peek, right? Just to make sure he’s not hiding in there. They’re not /always/ fuck ups around here.” High praise indeed, given the source. “Free-running like Parkour?” The shoulderbump prompts Ivan's smile to widen right back to 'happily content', even if he occasionally - attempted sneakiness! - peers between the awkwardly bumbling butterflies and Shelby. And just like that, they head out the door again, in unison, while the topic of conversation brings the boy's eyebrows creeping slightly closer together in unease. When Rasa moves away to put the food between them, he almost /almost/ looks a little sad. But then there is food, which is a lovely distraction. A brownie is claimed, oh so carefully between two fingers. Down on the floor, something crawls ever so sneakily out of his jeans and onto one of his sneakers. A tiny little blackbrown spider, no bigger than a pinky nail. Followed by three more. Heading for Shelby's FEET in STEALTH. Rasa's legs rest against Ivan's backside, hir tail moving to gently rub against his shoulder. "Yeah. He showed me a video of some stuff we can try and it looks amazing. I think it would be really cool to be acrobatic enough to climb buildings and leap through windows and just bounce around like a bug can. He is also going to teach some trapeze work and ..." Rasa pauses to see if the others are as excited as ze is. "How are you, Ivan?" Shelby, oblivious. Pancake-wrapped sausages are far more of an attention draw at the moment, beating out potential threats by a mile. She is even wiggling her toes--her feet are bare at the moment--in a way that could seem enticing to creepy crawlies. The perfect victim! “Man,” she mumbles through a bit, “if you get super good at it, we could use it for like...my first music video, y’know? Film you, cut it together...” The spiders seems delighted with this offer of wiggly toes! They start on their way UPWARD. across BARE LEG. Ivan leans somewhat distractedly into that tail on his shoulder, glancing at it only briefly before-- looking to Shelby's face instead. And then looking away /again/, to Rasa, while stuffing half a brownie into his face. He's not idly plotting anything, nnnooo. "I 'hm..." He starts, with a mouthful of brownie, before swallowing it and clearing his throat. "I am... okay." He sounds a bit doubtful, briefly casting a glance downward as his smile disappears. "It is nice here. And I think you would be good at climbing. And leaping." The glance and smile he throws her now suggests his words are true, and he looks a little proud already, of these future endeavors! "What you are saying and the shape your face makes don't quite match up," Rasa remarks quietly, frowning a little. "If you are not okay, can I help?" Ze looks over at Shelby, concerned. Hir lips press into a fine line and hir coloration darkens. "Sure music video. We'll have to make sure the song is suitably bouncy to justify the moves, but me being good at anything is going to require time, so... you have some too, to come up with the music." Rasa, unfortunately, does not see the spider at all as hir attention is diverted between Ivan's face and the food and Shelby's face. “What ze’s sayin, Ivan, is you--” Shelby was probably going to say something snarky. So it serves her right then that at that point she becomes aware of something...crawling on her. Some /things/, as become evident when she absentmindedly reaches down to scratch--and discovers /spiders/. Her scream is immediate, filling the boat without trouble! The sausage drops and she begins slapping at her leg. Run, little spiders, run! Ivan looks into Rasa's direction again, as those little spiders crawl upwards still. His shoulders twitch forward for a moment, before he, too, sinks back onto the bed, curling sideways to try and find an unoccupied spot near hir. Seeking just a tiny bit of comfort as he opens his mouth to answer, "I--" only to-- be interrupted by screaming. His muscles TENSE, and he presses his eyes tightly shut, smile disappearing into a look of mild panic. The spiders move of their own free will, running in PANIC for a moment before abandoning their cause and DROPPING to flee to the nearest dark corner! Unfortunately-- one of them falls rather lifelessly to the ground instead, having been squashed under the menacing Shelbyslaps. Rasa cringes and rubs at hir face, shaking hir head slowly and closing hir eyes. "Honestly..." And that's it. Ze doesn't know what else to say. Teenagers, right? It serves him /right/ that one of his little soldiers fell in battle. Shelby’s dance comes to an end as soon as the spiders are /off/ and /gone/ from her sight. And after she’s retreated to the bench, whereupon she crouches like a gargoyle and glares at the young man attempting to cuddlehide with his paramour. “That was /not/ funny,” she informs him. "I know." Ivan replies after he's opened his eyes again, expression neutral, wrapping his arms around himself. He looks toward Rasa first, somewhat searchingly, before a downward twitch of his eyebrows brings him to survey Shelby next. A look of satisfaction is sorely lacking. "Now, we are even." And then, his eyes slip closed again. As if the previous conversation is a thing to be left behind rather than dwelled upon, he continues without pause- "I am going back to Russia for the summer." His tone of voice implies that maybe that isn't particularly helping with his not being okay. "You're leaving?" Rasa sits up almost immediately, now, where previously, ze was just going to let them deal with ... whatever that was. Ze moves closer to Ivan, wrapping arms around him, careful not to touch his skin without permission. Ze presses hir cheek to the space between his shoulderblades. "O-okay." Ze begins to pull away, looking over at Shelby with sad eyes and a neutral facial expression. Way to burst the bubble on her indignation, dude! Shelby is working up a good head of steam but with the news delivered that he’s /leaving/, she deflates. Unlike Rasa, she does not make with the okays. “What the hell?” she begins. And that’s just the start! “Why the fuck do you want to go back to /Russia/? And why’re you just telling us this /now/? Term’s over in a few weeks, man, you can’t just give...short notice like that.” She flops down onto her butt and scowls at the pair. “There’s /laws/ about that.” Though Ivan initially lies pretty still, he digs a leg down into the bed when Rasa starts to move away, pushing himself back towards hir. Where did the Rasa go. Come back here. He opens his eyes, to throw Shelby a /dubious/ look. After a few seconds of thought, he less-than-confidently replies, "No there are not." Then, more quietly and sounding less than happy about the development - "My father has already bought the ticket. My brothers and sisters helped. I will go. I am sorry." "Sometimes I forget that there are people with families that still care about them." Rasa replies softly, scooting a little closer to snuggle up to Ivan's back. Hir skin darkens more, shifting from pink and yellow to gold and purple, then bronze and blue. "You will keep in touch? Can you skype or video chat from Russia? I will miss you." Shelby’s mouth opens and closes. Like a fish. Or someone who never even /considered/ that family might be involved, in a positive way. Her expression clouds over, face twisting into a scowl, and she snatches her guitar over into her lap to pluck at the strings. Scowly face, scowly music. Duh duh dunnnnnnn. “...whatever,” she mumbles under the sound of the notes. "Of course. Often." The second word almost sounds like a request. Ivan lifts a hand to search for one of Rasa's, seemingly unfussed by the fact that he may find some skin contact in the process. He continues in a harder sort of tone, determined and /serious/. "I will introduce you to Lev and Zhenya and Nadya and Regina, and Sasha and- everyone in Khimki. I will-" He stops, lifting his free hand to his neck to rub at it a little awkwardly, as though the rest of that sentence doesn't-- quite want to come out. His eyes flit somewhere that isn't Shelby /or/ Rasa. "I will miss you. Both of you. I am glad you are here." Hfh. Brushing skin contact leaves little Ivan colored patches where he touches, but there isn't enough to really get a feel for what either of them is thinking. Rasa finds Ivan's hand with a gloved hand and squeezes it. "It would be fun to meet your family. Well, maybe nice, I don't know how much fun can be had with a little screen." When they do hold hands, there is some maintained contact. Rasa's mind is a little distant and saddened, partially because Ivan will be /GONE/ but also that ze is running out of people ze cares about. Ze is also worried about Shelby, which causes hir to look over toward hir roommate. "Have you been writing any songs lately, Shelbs?" “You’re gonna be coming back, right? When summer’s over?” Shelby has her head bowed over the guitar, so it’s impossible to see what face she’s wearing now--or what happened to her expression when he said he’d miss them. The questions probably speak for her though, without any need for elaboration. Pluck pluck, goes the guitar, and the question aimed her way draws a brief glance at Rasa. “...huh? Oh.” She pauses, then shakes her head. “Nah. Trying, but it’s kind’ve...I dunno. Hive says it’s hard to be like, super creative when you’re the middle of shit. You have to wait for it to stop.” That last earns the thinnest sort of smile before she bows to her strumming again. Ivan's thoughts are a muddled mess of worry and stress for friends pulling at his brain, attention spread thinner than it ever has- but when Rasa's concern layers on top of it, his brain coils up like a tightly wound spring. Man up, Ivan. For everyone's sake. At least for a bit. He /squirms/ to turn and face Rasa instead, smiling. Briefly searching hir face, perhaps for a smile back. "I will come back. I can bring /gifts/." Then, as an afterthought, to Rasa's face enough though it is clearly meant for Shelby, "The blues. Is about-- 'shit'." That... last word comes out a bit. Unnatural. Considering. "He has a fair point, Shelbs. Maybe you should write some blues about the shit we're going through. Mutant High Blues?" Rasa does indeed smile back at Ivan, even if it is a small smile. "What kind of gifts does one bring from your home? I mean, There's different things that represent different regions, right? Like the nested dolls or black lacquer boxes?" Sooomebody has maybe done some research on Russian trinkets. "I don't know. Maybe some pretty stones would be nice too." Ze gives a little shrug and glances back to Shelby. "What would you like? No sooner mentioned than Shelby’s fingers begin to fly through a classic blues riff, something better suited to the French Quarter of New Orleans than a boat house docked on a lake in the northeast. “Lyrics are hard. S’like...trying to pull words out’ve the air when you’re dealing with other stuff,” she says, rolling one shoulder in the most careless of shrugs. “Maybe when things calm down again.” Though she doesn’t sound entirely optimistic. The prospect of presents is slightly more successful, and leaves her with head tilted and thoughtful gaze fixed on the two on the bed. “I dunno. Music, I guess? Or...art. A postcard?” Clearly Shelby is off her game if she cannot make extravagant demands. The music trails to a halt and she stands, holding the guitar neck in one hand. The other is quickly filled with a few of the pre-packaged food items brought by Rasa. “If you guys wanna skip next period, I can cover for you,” she says before ambling towards the exit. “Remember what I said, Ivan,” is her /mysterious/ parting statement, complete with raised eyebrows and /no/ memory of how they are now even. Ivan is calm. Smiling! Confident. See, Rasa, everything will be okay. And then- Shelby speaks. 'Remember what I said, Ivan'. Through the lingering telepathic link, that sentence rolls over several times. Then, something else- snippets of a conversation held over the phone, Shelby's voice over the speaker, talking. An attempt to explain something to Kai gone horribly wrong - talk of condoms, and junk, somehow, and, uh, dicks? All very much from HER, covered in a thin layer of cluelessness and baffled confusion. Then, somewhat more clearly, still perfectly still but now /tense/ as all get-out-- << {... Fuck.} >> The colour drains from his face, smile gone. Still staring at Rasa, eyes wide. Whoops. "SHELBY." Rasa may have been lost in twitterpation a few moments before, serenaded by twangy guitar music and listening to the lapping water against the boat, but then there is suddenly a conversation about condoms and dicks and a very, very tense Ivan in hir arms. Ze looks up at Shelby, exasperated, eyes wide, with some squintyness in the corners only, brows definitely furrowed. "It's like... you want us to have sex, but NOT at the same time." Ze rolls hir eyes and shakes hir head and moves hir arms, breaking the telepathic contact for a moment to rub his upper arms and shoulders to try and get him to relax. "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess?" Rasa watches Shelby leave. Shelby’s already pretty much out the door by that point. But drifting behind her, clear as a bell on that old guitar, are immediately recognizable notes: bow chicka wow wow. If nothing else, the chick is good at making that old instrument talk for her. It takes a few seconds, but Ivan does relax. In fact, the call out to Shelby may have aided him in this a little - as though he expected Rasa to side with /her/ instead. The implication of the notes on the guitar go straight over his head, and he curls toward Rasa to bury his face into hir shoulder and neck as best he can. HIDE ME. He-- trembles? Nnno. No, that's not quite right. Oh-- he's... laughing. Quietly and in shallow breaths, but more out of general habit for being silent than an attempt to hold it back. Equal parts embarrassment and amusement. Maybe he's finally snapped. Happily, though, from the looks of it! Arms reeaaching to WRAP around whatever part of Rasa they can snake around, be it head or torso. Rasa is concerned at first, but the brush of his cheek against hir neck and the mirth and embarrassment flood hir as well and ze is smiling soon enough, pulling Ivan in closer. Ze has to shift one leg to get it on the other side of his body to allow closeness without cutting off circulation, but then there is closeness! And Rasa rubs hir cheek against the side of his head. << are you going to be gone the entire summer term? Back in September? >> << {September--} >> The Russian thought mills around in Ivan's head as he attempts to switch his internal default language setting back to English, face still smooshed into hir neck. The word is familiar enough to its English equivalent that with the help of the telepathy, it shouldn't be too hard to figure out. His thoughts are slow; His getting used to this whole telepathic communication thing has perhaps been slow, but he's getting there. << {No} , no. Earlier. {August} - August 10, is when I will be back. I do not know what I will do with my time. But maybe Khimki will have missed me. Many people to speak to. >> He keeps his eyes closed, unwilling to move. /Comfortable/ right where he is, embarrassment slowly ebbing away. << What is the best thing you remember about home? >> Or... previous-home, assumedly. << Mother's cooking, I think, >> Rasa nuzzles into Ivan, leaning heavily on him now, eyes closed. There are flashes of Persian dishes, different kabobs and rice dishes, the memories strong enough to inspire smells and tastes along with them. << Even when they could no longer look at me, my parents took care of me. My mother would still make my favorite dish from time to time, even though my father didn't like it. >> Here, ze shows him aash-e-anaar, a pomegranate soup with seasoned lamb and fresh pomegranate seeds on top. The smell is that of onions, pepper, mint and lime, with fruity favors underneath, but a pleasant savory taste upon the tongue. Rasa relaxes further and considers laying down with Ivan, unsure at the moment how he would feel about that. Hir neck stretches a little further to plant a small kiss on the side of his neck, definitely comfortable inside hirself. << Perhaps you will read books. Maybe you will discover a new tinyfriend type and then tell me all about it when we talk. What did you do there before you left? >> Similarly to how Ivan tries to pay the utmost attention to when people speak to him, every /bit/ of that telepathic link is accepted this time. He can't help but breathe in a little more deeply when the smells hit his mind, eyebrows pushing slightly closer together as he gets attempts to get used to the sensation. Maybe getting in his own way more than not - being prone to overthinking things a little. A lot. But the kiss on his neck draws his smile wider again, and he opens his eyes to look Rasa over. For hir expression mainly - link or not, old habits die hard. He himself is easy enough to read - the compulsion to /stay/ and maybe even-- to skip class is there. Not something that's crossed his mind more than once before, but alas. It is the full extent of how much he does not want to be /elsewhere/ right now. Oh right. He was asked a question! In the midst of staring, he almost forgets. << I read - my mother is a book publisher. Sometimes I would watch the television, or play chess. Talk. Other times, school. >> A slideshow /flashes/ past - tiny classrooms, near-barren school grounds and kids he'd attempted to hang out with before, never successfully. Not bad memories, per se, but they're a certain shade of... grey. It's a place he no longer belongs. << I had no bees. I had no you. >> Rasa peels away a little to look at Ivan, slipping hir arm against his skin to maintain contact while hir gloves are slipped off. << You'll have me again, when you get back. >> Ze replies, bare fingers gently cradling his face, tracing the outline of his jaw. << you'll also have bees.. and honey. >> Hir face is relaxed, hir eyes a honey color, soft around the corners, pleased to be with him. Ze smiles back at Ivan's curious expression, something about how much ze likes his eyes slipping through their connection. Hir other hand slips up into his hair to gently run hir fingers through it. << Books are nice. Do you know lots of Russian fairytales? Perhaps we can talk about differences in culture some time, between the stories I was told as a child, versus the ones that you know. >> Ze leans forward once more, resting hir forehead against Ivan's, eyes sliding closed again, feeling his breath against hir skin. Ivan does what he's good at - watching as those gloves come off, once more breathing inward with an added little braintwitch of happy as his jaw is traced. It's probably very fortunate that the only spiders he seems to have thought to take with him were the ones sent for Shelby-revenge earlier. << I know /all/ of the fairytales. >> He mentally proclaims! There's a bit of pride in there, even if it's mitigated by other smatterings of Russian thoughts, translating roughly to 'ooh, pretty' and 'see, touching is not bad' and 'oh god what time is it /who cares/'. << A lot of them have small animals. Like sparrows. My last name means 'sparrow'. Well, not-- the one in America, here. It is easy but means nothing. My real name. >> Even after ze closes her eyes, he still looks, searching hir face, contently. Figures, the one time he can't shut up (even if it is in his HEAD), is /now/. << Ivan >> this is mentally sounded out as ee-vahn, for once, as opposed to how he may usually introduce himself << Dorofeevich - son of Dorofey - Vorobyov. Sparrow. >> Hopeless with social cues. Pleased to meet you. Rasa laughs softly as they are finally introduced properly. Ze practices the pronunciation in hir head a little before trying it verbally. "Ivan... should I call you that now? You call me Raska. Do you have a name I could use like that... something endearing that few people call you?" << I only know a couple fairytales and was looking forward to having time to read them so we can talk later. >> So, ze's assigning hirself homework. Ze tilts hir head a little more to rub hir noses against Ivan's gently. Hir skin tone is changing, becoming very human, but hir features are still very much hirs, given how much ze is just /enjoying/ the way Ivan makes hir feel. << Russian is good for endearing. >> Ivan ponders inwardly, lifting a hand to trail fingers slightly clumsily past Rasa's shoulder, up hir neck. "Vano, Ivanov," He starts, though the names themselves inspire little fondness within him. Perhaps used more often by his less-than-gentleminded brothers. The next three fare better, even if they barely manage to make it past his halfway absent mind. "Ivanushka, Vanyushka, Vanya." He shrugs so lightly it's probably more obvious in his mind than outside. Tiny bit little a lot distracted. Apparently the other question will have to go unanswered, because his mouth appears to have found a Rasa jaw and busies itself with an /experimental/ kiss on the skin, there. Or two. Or three. << I like Vanya. >> Rasa replies softly, breathing out a happy sigh as lips find hir jaw. Each bit of skin he touches turns pink and yellow with joy, little spirling curliques slipping away and decorating more of hir skin under his touch. Hir cheek leans nearer to his face and hir eyes flutter closed contently. The feedback across the telepathic link is that of buzzing excitement and enduring comfort, thoughts of actual lunch and classes afterward melting away. << My Vanya. >> Ze smiles, one hand reaching back once more to rub his back, checking to see how tense he is. Ze hopes he is relaxed, but needs to be sure. It proves a chore, getting Ivan to relax completely - even in his mind, that tightly-wound coil of worry persists, but is pushed to the back of his mind to the best of his ability. Similarly, his muscles occasionally /twitch/ to show as much. It is concern about going to Russia, concern about what he'll find when he gets back, and concern about what he /won't/ find. Peter, Jax, Shane and Sebastian. Concern with being left out of the loop and being completely helpless. But... none about this. He's sure about /this/. And it's working to try and overthrow the other thoughts as a temporary reprieve, managing to do so quite quickly now. What is more infectious, after all, than that excitement buzzing back straight into the brainpan. In a final death throe of surfacethoughts regarding Things Outside of This Space, << going to miss class >> floats idly by. Perhaps hoping to be ignored, because it dissipates into nothing almost before it even manages to make itself known. What replaces it is more comfort! And the growing urge to maybe never want to leave this boathouse again, if at all possible. His hand on Rasa's neck flattens against hir skin, and his mouth finds hirs. Vanya will do, it seems. He finally stops staring, and shuts up. Rasa has pushed fear and worry so far back in hir mind it is a little dark speck, a tiny bead of worry that ze clenches to know it is there, but does not unwrap for now. The rest of hir mind is abuzz with the sensations they experience and share. << I have an alarm set, >> Ze confesses after that last worry surfaces. << It hasn't been that long. We've got time. >> The thought is a whisp of comfort to hir, so ze shares it, firmly believing they can turn the alarm off later if they want to. Afterward, hir mind turns back on Ivan along, the rest of the world can just melt away. Ze has a very solid and wonderful thing in hir arms and pressed against hir body and mouth. Ze revels in the softness of his lips, the ghosts of teeth behind them when ze presses hard against them, the feel of his breath between their faces and allll the happy feelings and comfort feelings in his mind. Aaand poof go all of Ivan's worries, at least for right this moment. Eclipsed behind NEW things, readily accepted and maybe-- somewhat greedily so, the hand on hir neck pulling hir closer while his other hand slides over to the small of hir back. There are so many things he does not have right now that he would like to have, or be a certain way that they are /not/. But Rasa is, and this? This is very good indeed. It is a precious thing. << I will not lose you. >> And... so, then, somewhat-- aromantically and after a brief struggle to push hir doown, Rasa is pulled into a HUG. SQUISH. Mine. Rasa is decidedly pleased when Ivan ends up on top of hir, automatically wrapping hir legs around him to keep him close - even if the ride to that point was a little strange. There was tugging and pushing and a little bit of awkwardness as ze tried to move hir center of gravity so it was in such a position that Ivan /could/ push hir over, but the end result? Nice. Hands move to his face, just wanting to touch him as ze continues to kiss him, lips parted as the earlier movement caused hir to smile bright and gasp for breath at one point. BUT! Open mouthed kisses are nice! Ze drags hir nose against his cheek as ze pulls his lower lip into hir mouth and sucks on it lightly. This is what they do in movies, right? << Can't lose me. I'm right here. >> There are fewer and fewer words along their connection, just strong feelings of belonging, closeness, perhaps a darker mingling of possessiveness, but it's balanced with affection and care for the other's well being. Of course, that is when the alarm on Rasa's phone decides to start ringing out a ten minute warning. Class is starting soon! It takes the teens a few seconds to realize what that noise is another minute or two to remember how to shut it off, and then a little while longer to get untangled, but soon enough, they are racing across the grass between the boathouse and the main mansion, just trying to get to class on time. |