Hand Off

[Deja Aretusa]

 Aaron shifting them was good; Azhure was slowly starting to allow her body to relax enough to stop the shaking, but it didn't change the violent outward bursts in which her emotions moved; at this point, Eithne was much further down the hall, and shielding herself with her own hidden abilities so that she could maintain a presence for a while longer. It wasn't until she saw Aaron bury her face in Azhure's neck and his shoulders quiver slightly that she decided she was out like a drag queen. She generally avoided seeing grown men cry, and she didn't want to strike it up at current. Not when he was already strung out enough, because she was used to being unable to charm him into not being a douche.

Azhure eventually stopped crying, though it took well over five minutes, but the tears were working to strengthen the bond, even if they only did a little to stabilize it. It hadn't occurred to Azhure that she was forcing Aaron to feel everything she felt, not until thoughts that weren't her own, memories that didn't make sense (a brother specifically, nearly a twin in appearance but younger in age, along with other family she did not have) crossed through her head and flickered in her mind's eye. She knew them, but only because he did, and it confused and frightened her. She couldn't close the connection off completely, but once she had become conscious of it, she did slow it tremendously, to the point where Aaron would be able to function enough for the both of them.

Meanwhile, she tried to wriggle out of his grasp, feeling sick, but for previous reasons - pure, unadulterated links to the minds were not only dangerous, but invasive. That she had even seen it at all made her feel as though she'd violated some code of ethics, and there was no telling how she would react if this went the other way around. Aaron might actually be the more private of the two; Azhure had nothing eventful to share, but the feeling of someone in her head sickened her. Aaron, on the other hand, might not care about the feeling, but what they took away from it would piss him off. He was lucky that vampiric abilities were harder to use on him; some vampires would take memories away just for the sake of taking them.

Azhure put her hands on the ground and pushed up with her whole body, staggering as she tried to get her footing. Her bare feet slipped across the massive puddle that covered the floor, toes becoming tangled in the seaweed. She wanted to go lay down, but she had no idea which way the room the fae had been taking her to was. She tried to dry herself off, but only succeeded in reducing her sopping, dropping appearance to one of a damp nature. Her powers were so exhausted; she was so exhausted.

"I need to go to my room," she told Aaron, finally. She was waiting for him to regain himself, and whenever he did, that was the first thing she'd say. "I don't know where it is," she added, surprisingly honest given that she didn't know something and she was admitting it. Even with as gorgeous as she was, she looked wrecked then, like a girl who had consumed far too much alcohol or had just recovered from an overdose. No doubt she'd seen better days. She felt pretty bad, too.

[Aaron Thorson]

Aaron shifting them may have been good, but even better was Enya heading off down the hall and out of sight, since the last thing Aaron would have wanted would be witnesses to him shedding tears.  It happened so rarely that Azhure managing it twice in just a few short hours was rather impressive, and honestly, he was pretty sure that the most in the way of tears he'd allowed since he was much younger had been his eyes watering from pain throughout his hunting career, or from laughter.  That wasn't crying, not as far as he was concerned, and he was sticking to it.  This, however, was.  That wouldn't sit well with him later, but it was such a mental and emotional overload from her end that there was nothing else he could do.  It was overwhelming, all-consuming, and he didn't even realize that his own thoughts and memories were mixing into the debris caught in that whirlpool.

Obviously, he didn't stand a chance at recovering until she pulled herself together, just being carried along in her current and unknowingly strengthening the bond right along with her as they went.  Only when it all slowed some did he manage to ground himself once more, metaphysically trying to get his feet back under him, and this was definitely one of those times that being a total magical null was screwing him over royally; he had no experience to draw from in dealing with anything he was experiencing here, so all he could do was try to wing it.  He was usually pretty good at that, but this was still a ridiculous situation to be tossed into, and now he was lacking in helpful Therrayans.  Damn it.

By the time she started wriggling around, trying to get away from him, he was feeling a little more like himself, enough that he tightened his grip for a moment to try to slow her roll, not wanting her to rush off immediately and fuck them both over.  He definitely didn't want to repeat that experience.  "Don't."

It was a single word, but he made it count enough to keep her still until she could handle supporting herself on her own, and then he used a shaky hand against the wall to get himself up.  One glance around, and he was glad to know that he was NOT cleaning up all that water and seaweed.  Fuck that business, though he might have actually preferred to clean it up than continue to deal with this.  Fuck, he felt like shit, and now he had to take care of this girl?  Why exactly was this happening to him?

With a sigh, he again ran his hand through his now damp hair, then wiped at his face like she'd gotten him wet and he wanted it gone; nope, no tears here, not ever.  Yeah, because he was totally convincing.  Wait until Taro heard about this bonding thing, especially if he realized that there were only a few ways that a Lyr could bond someone.  Basically, tears or kisses.  Yeah, Aaron didn't want to deal with that conversation.

"Can you walk alright, or do you want me to carry you?" he asked wearily, already accepting the fact that he probably would be carrying her, and he wasn't even likely to be staying the night in his own bed.  He wanted to, but how would she deal with that?  Would she be upset without the damn waterbed?  Would she even know what she was missing if he took her to his bed where he was comfortable?  He hated to be selfish like that, but her little overload had worn out most of the rest of his reserves, so all he wanted was something comfortable and familiar, even if he had to share it with her.  "Come on, you can stay in my room for right now.  I'll behave, I promise."

Honestly, he was too tired not to.

[Deja Aretusa]

 When Aaron issued the command, Azhure found that she was inclined to obey. Forced, even, but part of her wanted to, and that made her want to fight it. When she tried to, she found that she could not, not fully, but that was probably more because of how completely exhausted she was rather than her lack of ability to overcome it. Even bonded, they could still deny eachother obedience, but at this juncture they were both too worn to fight it out. She could foresee much fighting in the future, and it saddened her. Aaron was the last person she would have chosen to bond had she a choice in the matter; he was resisting every step of the way and it was hurting her in ways she never imagined she could be hurt.

Helpful Therrayans indeed; Nicolette and Eithne would become their best allies in the next few weeks to come, if only because they would find information to prevent them from killing themselves. Or eachother.

  Now that they were both in a standing position (despite her posture mostly coming from the wall, where she had her shoulder pinned with her upper body turned so that she was more or less facing it unless she turned her head, she realized that she felt immensely better than she had a half hour prior when they had been separated and squabbling. The bond had yet again been strengthened, causing some degree of ease despite the problems at hand.

"No, I think I'm okay," she said, her feminine voice bouncing at the end in volume as she stumbled. She certainly didn't look okay, but she didn't want him to carry her. He was the one who'd had the shit kicked out of him, after all. She held her hand out at the very least, looking not unlike a lost child, her ethereal ocean-coloured eyes large and still showing some measure of fear. It was just the two of them at the moment, and she had no worries about what Aaron might think regarding her vulnerabilities. She'd just seen him cry, so for him to know she was afraid? That was acceptable - at least, for the moment. As soon as she rested and got her shit back under control, she vowed that nobody would ever see her emote again.

She made it a few steps before she felt dizziness overtake her, grabbing his arm as she began sliding down to the ground. "I'm sorry," she mewed, and the sound may have been lost altogether had he not scooped her up and caused her head to be nestled against his shoulder, right by his ear. She was surprisingly light for having such height to her, and she did not fail to notice the strength that he exhibited despite how much he'd gone through. He was a Diamond, after all, something that she didn't quite understand the gravity of just yet.

Azhure had to focus on what he was saying, because she'd already begun to drift off. She found it difficult, if only for the fact that the gentle rhythm of his steps and his arms around her caused her to feel comfortable enough to allow sleep to creep in. "Behave yourself?" she echoed, clearly not understanding the implications of his remark. Aaron would find that many of his jokes would be lost on her until she had time to adjust to him, but she severely doubted that he would want to think about "their" future together anytime soon.

[Aaron Thorson]

Obviously, Aaron had no clue what he was doing here or that she was so inclined to obey.  All he knew was that she was a mess, he was a mess and he didn't need her fighting his efforts when he already wasn't at his best.  That she quieted down and listened didn't occur to him as being anything supernatural or the like, just that she listened and realized that he was helping her; at this point in the game, he was inclined to just go with the simplest possible answer and hope it was right so that they could move on with their evening.  He wanted some sleep, preferably without being utterly miserable.  If that was agreeable, and all.

None of the scarier implications had really had time to sink in too far, other than those few minutes he'd had before Enya had started shouting to consider his life, which hadn't been long enough.  He didn't realize how badly they could hurt each other without trying, or the damage he could do without knowing he was doing it.  Being a magical null had been awesome while it lasted, but being inexperienced now was pretty dangerous, especially if Azhure decided to pull a fast one on him at some point; would he even realize what she was doing?  Probably not, not unless Nicolette or Enya were informed enough to tell him what was going on.  Watch out for kisses, Aaron.

For now, he didn't have to worry about it because the damage had already been done -- again.  She wasn't likely to go for any kisses anytime soon, and he sure as hell had no intention of crying again.  In fact, 'again' was the wrong word, since he hadn't cried to begin with.  Nope.  It hadn't happened, and that was the story he was sticking to.  She could be afraid, that was allowed out of noncombatants, especially female ones, but he didn't cry and he hadn't.  Period. 

Good talk.

Back to being himself, albeit a very tired, completely worn down version of Aaron, he didn't have the patience to wait around for her to decide that she needed help, but he also didn't have it in him to fight with her, which made for a very awkward situation.  He ended up staying close for the brief period that she tried to do for herself, and was therefore prepared when she took his hand first and then just didn't manage to support herself; it made scooping her up into a bridal/princess carry easier, and he even managed to shrug off her apology.  "Don't worry about it, I got it."

Yes, by 'it', he meant 'you', but that was a little too 'caring' for his current mood and desire to not appear to be a pussy, so the change in words made a little more sense to him.  It wasn't like it mattered, anyway.  She wasn't really listening, and he knew it, especially once she asked him about the behaving comment he'd made.  To him, that meant she couldn't have heard him properly or just wasn't awake enough to think it through, because it didn't even occur to him that the comment wouldn't make sense to her.  "Don't worry about that, either," he assured her quietly, not having any desire not to behave himself, anyway.  All he wanted was sleep, and if she was there to keep him from puking up seawater and seaweed, that was acceptable.

As soon as he hit his quarters, he kicked the door shut with her still in his arms and didn't stop until he'd set her down on the side of the bed that he spent less time hogging in the middle of the night, then crawled in on the other side and pulled the covers up over both of them, no fucks given about what was socially acceptable or how things were supposed to work.  That could be discussed after sleep happened.

[Deja Aretusa]

 Azhure was incoherent for the rest of the ride down the hall, and had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Wherever Aaron arranged himself was fine; Azhure didn't move, nor did she dream, nor did she make a sound other than a very soft breathing. When she awoke, it was morning, and she was in an unfamiliar room with a man she didn't recognize and clothing she had not purchased. It took a few moments for her to really put together what had happened, but she finally did (which was good, because otherwise... look out).

She saw that Aaron was still asleep, and reached over to gently shake him. When he didn't move, she shook a little harder - and finally, she resorted to giving him a sharp cuff against the back of his head. When he inevitably sat up (with moderate shock, no doubt), she had already leaped off of the bed, and much like a cat, was admiring something on his dresser (who even knew what it could have been, a photo, a trinket, a speck of dust) as though she had no notion of what had just occurred.

She turned slowly, gazing upon him with the corner of her left eye, and in that instant looked beautiful and yet incredibly wicked. "Good morning," she said, her accent stretched out across the slow roll of the words. "Did you sleep well?" She turned fully at this point, something in her hands (a pendant, string, a sock?) and wound it around her fingers as a sign of agitation. She was uncomfortable, regardless of how regally she behaved.

[Aaron Thorson]

Aaron wasn't nearly as quick to wake up, which shouldn't have been surprising, all things considered.  He'd gotten his ass royally kicked, nearly drowned a few times, actually drowned at least once (he was sure of it), been metaphysically bonded to someone and made horribly sick by the same bond, then had to carry the bitch's ass to bed so that they could both get some rest.  Even by Diamond standards, he was tired.  Though he could have gone on longer and harder if he'd had to, the fact that he was able to sleep and subconsciously knew that there was no danger demanding that he be awake meant that he was going to sleep, damn it.  Shaking him awake just wasn't something that he was dealing with.

Naturally, that meant she had to escalate the situation. 

He woke up very suddenly when she cracked him in the back of the head, sitting up too quickly at flicking his eyes around the room in a silent, immediate search of his surroundings that only showed her playing with something on his dresser, a photo of himself and his little brother from the last time he'd been out to visit for some beach time and surfing, and he wasn't fooled.  He rubbed at the back of his head and glared at her some, well aware that she was to blame for the blow and not at all happy about being woken up.  It was hardly his fault that she wanted to be an early riser.

The way she looked at him as she 'realized' he was awake didn't fool him in the slightest, nor did her polite question, and his eyes dropped to whatever her hands were playing with -- the leather cord with the Norse rune on it that his mother had given him on the same visit that the picture had been taken; it had been his birthday, hadn't it?  He'd had the necklace hanging from the edge of the frame, hadn't he? 

"Like a rock," he told her, straightening a little almost like he refused to let her discomfort affect his own demeanor.  Truth be told, they were both uncomfortable and this was a terribly awkward situation, but damn it, he wasn't doing that weird dance right now.  "How'd you sleep?  You...like the necklace?"

His eyes dropped back to the necklace as he asked, an automatic movement, but one that would serve to remind her of what she was doing; it seemed like a very absent gesture on her part. 

[Deja Aretusa]

 Azhure found the rune very interesting indeed; it was Laguz, and much of its definition had to do with water (for the tangible side) and everything that the element represented for the mystical side. Ridiculous. She'd bonded herself to a man who had the magical property of petrified horse shit, and he had the rune for psychic growth hanging on a little stand in his room. She wondered if he'd even known what it was, but felt very likely that it had been a joke.

She ignored his question about the necklace, giving only a raise of the brow as she looked pointedly to the symbol and then back to him; as if to say, "Seriously?" and instead focused on the photo again.

"Your brother looks almost identical to you," she said, letting the obvious statement fall. She was sure it would be neither the first nor the last time he'd hear those words, but she felt it developed some normalcy for her to make them her own. She had accepted that she was stuck, and water was nothing if not adaptable. "I slept poorly," she said, changing gears. "But I'm awake now, so it doesn't matter."

Azhure could not remember when there had been a time that she did not dream. Humans often pined for dreamless sleep; a man of the Diamond may, indeed, prefer it to the plague of nightmares that may siege his mind after his eyes closed, and in truth many hunters slept only due to exhaustion - it had been a reason why one of the Frost hunters was put on absence for a few months. But to Azhure, dreams were like another realm of reality, where her consciousness merged with all others, and she could see and feel and share, and in turn learn, accept, and be given. She was a Lyr, though, an Elemental connected to the very universe in a way that even science could not understand. There was no way she could think to articulate what a dream was, to her, but it was NOTHING like what a human would imagine.

"Should we dine?" she asked, feeling a quake in her stomach that she was not accustomed to. Azhure ate, but not as much or as often as humans did, and she believed that she was only feeling hunger because Aaron was. She did not relish the ghost-pangs that would come with being bonded. Vampires had it easy.