do something

The fight that had been so vivid in the man's eyes, was fading. Almost like a switch had been flipped. This did not dissipate Chip's worry, as he continued to trail his fingers along the other's spine.

The Keeper leaned into his First's hand, frowning when he averted his gaze. Carasson. He murmured, reaching to tip the man's face towards him, fingers coarse with many years of work and near-constant exposure to salt water.

But the way he tipped his face was gentle. Cara. What's going on with you? He brushed his thumb across the other's jaw, searching his features. I forgive you, and I'm sorry. You're always welcome in Varahel. He'd have to be dead before the clan turned Carasson away.

Talk to me? You've never felt so strongly about leaving the clan before. Have you? Anymore secrets you want to get out? He was starting to question if he knew his First; which certainly wasn't good for the clan hierarchy. But tonight... well.

Something was off. It didn't sit well with him. He'd noticed the presence of more spirits around Inala, lately, not that he had a chance to talk to Cara about it. To ask if he'd felt them, too. Some part of Chip wondered if it was his place to be concerned; how long could he play the Keeper card when it came to her? And after those outbursts, perhaps Inala was a topic best avoided for the night.

There was almost a part of him that didn't want to be forgiven for the things he only faintly remembered saying with such conviction. For all of the tenderness in the other man's gaze, Cara couldn't help but feel a touch of nausea swell inside of him for making him worry at all. It was not an expression he desired to see on anyone's face, least of all of someone he loved. But in midst all of this self loathing was a need to be comforted, consoled, guarded. A need to be held without restraint. A need to be loved beyond what he truly deserved. As a thumb scratched over his jaw, Carasson surrendered the rest of what remained of himself in the aftermath of his posession. 

And still.Even the sound of his own name sounded foreign to him, had him furrowing his brow in confusion of that being even remotely near his name. Whatever it was inside of him still yeared for that last bit of control when all Carasson wanted to do was give up. No, I.... He huffed, centering his thoughts. There's just... a loss for words sent a chill down the spin of someone who'd never suffered that embarassment. I want to help but I can't... he could only hope Chip would be patient enough with him in these moments. I will never leave you, Inala, or this clan. Because that had been taken to the extreme by something duplicitous inside of him, something he didn't know. 

But there's something I need Chip. Something I can't live without until I find it. Only he didn't know what that was. These days he was becoming afraid of what he might be urged to do to search for those dark desires he craved. And I thought.....well I thought Brecilin was the answer.... Mostly because going to Brecilin felt  inexplicably right to him. The center of carnage was all he could remember craving in those flashes of memory from moments earlier. And in the silence that followed, Cara teetered forward, lips falling hard against the Chip's, hand reaching up to tangle in that gloriously tangled hair to deepen the kiss he'd so much wanted to feel earlier. When he pulled back, his throat bobbed. ....and now I see I was wrong. It's not what I want. His lips fell again, his body shifting against the other until he found breath again. 

Don't forgive me Chip. Tell me I deserve it. Let me carry this burden for once. But to be very honest he didn't know what he was asking any more.

Chip listened, as he held Cara, nodding encouragingly when he stumbled across his thoughts, tried to find his words. Xochipilli tightened his hold, when Cara iterated that he'd never leave, not him, nor her, nor the clan.

His face was a blank slate, as he listened. Puzzled, trying to understand. It was hard; the spirit that possessed him chose to co-habitate. It did not want his body for itself. Is... this something new? Since the Veil's gone down? He inquired, thoughtfully.

Many of their clan were possessed; some more noticeably than others. It was not... a secret, that spirits and demons were possessing people. Mages, especially.

He watched Carasson, and made a mental note to, the next time his beloved acted strange, ask who he was speaking with. That might clear things up. He was lost in thought, when Cara leaned forward, a hard kiss distracting him from his thoughts.

He nuzzled the other, squeezing him tightly, in an attempt to remind him that he wasn't alone. Mmm, too late, you're forgiven. Let me help you. As Cara settled, and his lips fell, he held him.

Xochipilli sat in silence, rubbing Cara's arms. Would you like to stay the night? He murmured the question in Cara's ear. I'll make us some dinner, get you a relaxing cup of tea, we can talk.

There was an understanding between them, one that seemed to permeate even the most stubborn of wills. An understanding that soothed the festering wounds between them and eased the swelling the resentment. I think so... Was the only thing he could offer in the moment. Whatever, whomever, it was inside of him warring for control wasn't entirely explicit about it's comings and goings just yet. Regardless, Cara couldn't say it was a welcomed intrusion. He feared the moment when he would fully lose control and allow his capabilities used against the people he loved. That possibility, though remote, seemed to become far more distinct; especially considering what seemed to stoke that devious passion inside of him. It fed off his own desires, his own passions, his deeply rooted beliefs, his soul. 

He folded against Chip when he pleaded to be allowed to help, that it was too late transfer the burden, that they would indeed have to share it just as they always did. A white hot shiver traced down his spin as lips met his ear sensually with an offer impossible to resist. He smiled for the first time in their conversation, answering with a patting of the other man's cheek affectionately. Being that he was used to making his own meals and for those around him, it would be a nice change of pace to be sure. Only if you promise not to burn the place down in the process. His tongue poked into his cheek as he waited for the no doubt riled response. He could only hope it would be regarded as friendly as he intended

Nevermind that they would truly need to speak seriously on the elephant in the room. Just maybe not tonight.