fallingbackup | The time of our great undoing

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[fabulae_victoriana]

The time of our great undoing

When Kevin woke up alone for the first time in months, he knew almost immediately that Glen was gone. If he were still human, he'd have looked everywhere for the man until he'd at least tracked down one of his Chains, and gotten confirmation from them that he was no longer in the world with them. But as it was, he could smell that the very spot he was laying on was the spot where Glen's trail had gone cold. The duke had vanished from the bed they shared as the knight slept.

That was well over a week ago now and in his head, Kevin's been lost ever since. He's done the best he can to take over Glen's duties around the house, and the Jabberwock, for whatever reason, has let him do it. But no matter how he tells himself that he's only minding things until Glen returns, and that he will, the atmosphere in the house rankles against him. Young Gilbert doesn't accept him -- not like this. The little Lacie pities him for the depth of his sadness; Lottie scoffs at him for thinking he can even attempt to fill Glen's shoes, even if he knows perfectly well he's only providing a poor substitute. With every day that passes, he feels more and more withdrawn, and so, when he can, Kevin escapes. He can be found wandering the city, now and again, letting the noise of it drown out his own thoughts. Or he can be found patrolling the fences around the farmlands as usual, perhaps in the hopes that the familiar solitude of it will help keep him in his right mind. But the truth is that Kevin hasn't felt this out of place and unsettled in at least a year, since he'd come to live in Glen's house in the first place. He'd thought he was home at last, that he'd found a new family and even a little peace. Now, it seems that all of that peace was in Glen all along, and Kevin has no idea when or if the duke will return.

But the most upsetting part of it all is what he does know. If Glen has really gone home, he's no doubt living through the Tragedy. Right now, somewhere, Kevin's Oswald is staring at the man who's broken his heart, there are swords raised between them, and the duke is maybe just realizing that he's going to die on that blade because Jack Vessalius never did love him enough.

And Kevin can't do anything about it.

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Lacie raises an eyebrow, her expression hovering somewhere between amused and the look people get, after getting slapped with a glove. Accepting the challenge, she promptly sits herself down right in the younger Kevin's lap, her arms wreathing his shoulders loosely.

"I don't suppose it would matter that we're trying to help you," she says, conversationally. "Provide a little distraction."

"Your idea of 'help' is as dubious as ever."

Kevin plants his hands on her hips, but it's only to try and shove her unceremoniously off of him. As he tries to duck underneath her arm, he glances at the other Kevin, but he's settled back with his wine and is, to all appearances, not paying attention to the fact that his lover is climbing all over another man. Of course. Of course he isn't. Kevin is aware that Lacie got ahold of his other self when the former knight was at his loosest of screws; it only makes sense that she'd put him back together skewed to her own whims.

"There's plenty to distract me that isn't the two of you. Get off me."

Lacie's arms tighten around his neck just enough to keep from being shoved off.

"You won't let it," she says, flatly. "You'll just go back out into the city and wander around and brood, and probably make yourself sick. I'd be a bad big sister, if my brother came back and his favorite knight was sick, when we could've prevented it."

To this Lacie's credit, she'd not being quite as obnoxious about it, as her other self had been in his dream. After all, her own pleasure is only part of her reasoning, this time. She truly does intend to provide what comfort they can, and it's clear enough in her gaze.

She leans forward, nestling her head firmly on his shoulder.

"Whatever you find, out there, won't be as good as what we can do."

"What you really want is trouble, isn't it? You want a fight. That's what you aren't saying."

When the other Kevin does speak up, he takes a somewhat different approach -- one with the most infuriating form of understanding in it. Life has taken these two in very different directions, but when all is said and done, they're still the same man, and the same cunning mind the knight possesses stares at him from behind that one red eye. His fallen counterpart simply has less reason to shy away from that fact, and virtually no reason to be in denial about it.

"But you're stronger than me, and quicker. You'd tear through the Marsh like it was nothing. Anything that could actually stand up to you enough to satisfy you stands a good chance of actually killing you." He swirls his wine in his glass, gently, noting that the other Kevin has gone very still beneath his lover's hands, which means he's hit the nail right on the head. "But both of us at once, no weapons, Lacie with her chains..."

He trails off, and the silence after his words is suddenly humming, as though the knight is a string who has been suddenly pulled taught, and is vibrating with it as best he can.

A grin splits Lacie's face, and she leans forward, her arms wrapping a little tighter around Kevin's shoulders.

"Is that what you want?" she murmurs, her voice going dusky and dangerous. "Well, that's alright."

She casts a glance over her shoulder at her Kevin, resting her head on the younger Kevin's shoulder. Her gaze is is fairly sparkling with gratitude and conspirational mischief. A pair of chains slither their way out of the shadows, the blades brushing light and tickling against the younger Kevin's skin.

"We like it rough, anyway."

"...you're both insane."

He tries to lean back away from Lacie, only to be stopped by the feel of those wretched chains, and he once again goes very still. It starts to occur to him now that he might actually have to fight his way out of here, and despite himself, he can't deny that the other Kevin is right -- if so, he'll look forward to it. He matches Glen Baskerville in strength and skill, perhaps even exceeds him, and knows he could defeat the other Kevin. But who better than his own self to outsmart him, and with Lacie joining in --

"That's as may be," says the other Kevin complacently. "But we also know all your sweet spots, because they're mine." Rising, he walks over to stand behind the knight, leaning down to speak right into his ear. "We also aren't afraid to hurt you. We won't hold back."

Lacie's hand slides down the younger Kevin's chest, resting where a certain sensitive mark graces her own Kevin's.

"Mmn, he's missing the best spot," she murmurs, half to herself and half to her Kevin. "We'll have to concentrate on the others."

A mischievous glance at the younger Kevin, as she leans forward, demonstrating her own knowledge by letting the tip of her tongue flicker against his throat, tasting his jugular vein from the edge of his collar up to just beneath his jawline.

"We're only trying to help," Lacie murmurs in his other ear. "Come on... Take advantage of us. Let us..."

The trouble with being werewolf-quick is that he can move before he even actually thinks, sometimes. All but dumping Lacie on the floor, the younger Kevin is up, hand reaching back and fisted in his counterpart's hair to throw him off as well, when he registers just what spot Lacie means on his chest, and goes still with the horror of it.

"You use that?" he demands.

"Why not?" asks the other, wincing a little as his hair is yanked. He settles his chin on the knight's shoulder. "It's like having an open wound directly on your soul. If she wants to turn me to putty with it, or drop hot candle wax on it, isn't that the sort of thing I deserve for having earned it?"

The knight turns to glare over his shoulder, only to find his own face smiling creepily at him from scant inches away. Snarling a little, he says, "I don't think it counts if you like it," but the other only twines his arms around him -- and drags hands curled into claws across his still-clothed skin. The one-eyed Kevin isn't going to seduce him properly. He's going to be mean.

Having half expected him to do something like this at some point, Lacie manages--albeit a little clumsily--to land on her feet, staggering aside a bit in her struggle to keep them. However, she is nothing if not determined, and since the men are fairly well entwined at the moment, anyway, she decides to do one better, and wills her chains to wrap around the two of them, effectively binding them at the waist.

Simply watching the two of them in this exchange is enough to make her feel a touch feverish. And she follows her Kevin's lead, fisting her own hand in the younger Kevin's hair. She may not be strong enough to make him face her again, but she can still pull.

"It counts well enough for me." she says, leaning in, teeth against his skin where her tongue had been teasing him, a moment before. "Maybe you should play with it a bit," she says between bites. "You'll see. It's fun."

"I'm not going near it," the knight snaps, and if he was irked before, he's revolted now. Of course he knows that mark, knows exactly how the man behind him earned it, and the idea of using it for pleasure is disgusting. He tenses, ready to fight his way out in earnest, but the other Kevin's one remaining eye suddenly grows very cold indeed.

"You think you're better than me, don't you?" the swordsman asks. "You're not. Everything in me that lead me to make the choices I made is in you, too, and you know it."

The one-eyed one isn't moving his hands over the other's body anymore, but the knight grows still all the same, hearing his own voice speak the sentiments he's terrified of. Everything feels all twisted around -- the past, the future, the fact that he is literally holding himself down right at this moment. His stillness is an opening, and the swordsman doesn't take it. He's well aware that his lover probably will.

While they've been talking, she's been unbuttoning the younger Kevin's shirt, curious about the faint taste of leather that had graced the tip of her tongue a moment ago. Her eyes widen at the sight of the proper, black dog collar that had been hiding beneath his shirt.

"Look at this!" she says, grinning at her own Kevin. Another of her chains snakes out from behind her. It's easy enough to thread it through the metal loop in the collar, and she gives the makeshift leash a hard jerk. "Maybe he likes playing the pet even when he's not shaped like a wolf."

She lets her fingers run down the metal links until she has the blade at the end in her hand, resting it against the bit of chest that she's laid bare, pressing it into his flesh.

"You probably do," she murmurs to the younger Kevin, breath hot against his ear, and given the conversation, it's easy enough to guess why there's such certainty in her tone. "At least, half the time."

Standing on tip-toe, she bites down on the younger Kevin's shoulder, hard enough that it would break the skin on a normal person.

"...wow," says the one-eyed Kevin, peering around the other's shoulder to have a look. "Wow, I severely underestimated the two of you. I'm impress --"

"That is not what that is for!"

Temper flaring properly at last, Kevin shoves Lacie away, not bothering to care if she stumbles into a chair or the table -- she's a Baskerville, her bruises will heal faster than his own would. Her chains present a problem, so to give himself a bit of leeway, he reaches back, snatches hold of his double, and slams him down into the floor.

They're still attached at the waist, and Lacie still has him on a "leash". But now the other Kevin has the knight's hand around his throat, and that's something. He's eyeing Lacie and her chains, considering her the more dangerous of the two, and so he misses the look of sudden intrigue on the other man's face. It seems the more warped of the two is getting an idea.

The way things have been going thus far, Lacie's surprise lasts barely more than a split second. She catches herself against the table, and furthermore manages to keep hold of that leash. She very likely might have a bruise, here or there, but she'd hardly consider it a proper seduction if there weren't a few injuries.

She also catches that look on her lover's face, and promptly slides into distraction mode, hoping to keep the younger Kevin occupied until her own can set whatever inspiration has struck him into motion.

"Maybe not," she says to the younger Kevin, "But who says we can't use it for that now?" She tugs the leash to make sure she has his attention. "Don't deny that you'd like it. I know that you would, if you let yourself."

"Never for you," the werewolf growls viciously. "Not for anyone but him!"

"Enough," says the other Kevin. "Enough, this isn't civilized." The stronger of the two stares down at him as though he's grown a second head, because no shit, it isn't civilized; but the other one is calm now. They've run up against the knight's boundaries and trying to bully him into what they want isn't going to work. They'll have to earn him now.

"I propose a duel," he continues. Us against you, out in the backyard." The other balks at first, but he adds, "You're faster and stronger than me, so it has to be the both of us or it isn't fair. We win, you stay with us for the night. You win, you leave, and we won't stop you. Either way, we all get a proper fight, right?"

Kevin knows himself well. The werewolf actually pauses, mulling it over. He's been given a way out that will save everyone some grief and dignity, and keep him from needing to bash his way home. And it's true -- he does want a fight. He wants one enough that maybe the risk would be worth it, even if they hadn't tried to seduce him first.

"...fine," the wolf barks at last. But he eyes Lacie expectantly. He's not removing his hand from the other's neck until she gets rid of her "leash".

Lacie smirks.

"Fair enough."

Letting the bladed chain drop from her fingers, she dismisses it entirely before it's hit the floor. It dissolve into shadows and air, taking the one wrapped around the men along with it. Far from displeased with this, she likes the idea. A little added foreplay.

Kevin has a few years worth of cunning and experience on the werewolf, and whatever the younger Kevin has in strenghth and speed, she can balance it out with her Chains. She can summon as many as she can keep track of, at any given moment, and they move with the speed of her thoughts. Perhaps it's cockiness, but she believes they can win.

Likewise, Kevin doesn't believe he's going to lose. Most everyone tends to assume he's younger than the other Kevin because he still has both eyes, but he's not -- they're the same age, grown up in different places. He does have as much experience as the other, and he's been sparring with Glen Baskerville over the past year to boot. By this point, he's picked up a few moves none of his other counterparts have, and he could absolutely take most any of them in a fight.

His own cockiness lies in believing he could beat the other Kevin and Lacie at the same time. He thinks he can, if he's crafty about it, and the look on his face is shifty as he releases the other swordsman and backs away, slowly.

Long accustomed to reading the expressions on the faces of one Kevin, Lacie is able to catch that shifty expression in the two-eyed one wears. She keeps a watchful eye on him, half expecting that he may decide to start the fight before they've even made it outside.

"The door's this way," she says, nodding at the door that leads to the kitchen, which will in turn lead to a back door.

The air around her remains heavy, as if lightning's about to strike, her chains ready to be summoned at a moment's notice.

The knight leaves the room with his head held high, stiff-legged and pompous despite his disheveled appearance. He doesn't realize it, but he's engaging in a healthy bit of wolf posturing. If he were in that form at the moment, he'd be fluffed up to make himself look even larger, teeth bared in a snarl. As it is, there's a growl in his throat, and he'd indulge in letting it out a little if he weren't immediately distracted by unicorns.

Peeling himself off the floor, the other Kevin actually looks genuinely happy for once. Snatching up his sword, he waits until the werewolf is well out of earshot before he pauses at Lacie's side, leaning down to murmur into her ear.

"Let me try him on my own at first. I want to see how well I can hold against him."

Lacie smirks, leaning up and brushing her lips against his jaw.

"I'll be there, if it looks like you'll need me." Which, in a roundabout way, is her agreement. Boys must be boys, after all, and she's curious to see how they match up, anyway. (That aside, it'll be useful for her to get a gauge on how the werewolf's fighting style differs from her lover's, where his strengths and weaknesses lie.)

Slipping an arm through his, she smiles up at him.

"And if you beat him without me, I might just let you have first choice about what we do with him."

"Nah, it's more fun when you're bossy," Kevin answers, patting the arm she has looped around his own, for all the world as though they're off for a stroll in the park and not about to have a duel in the backyard by the unicorn paddock in the middle of the night while being serenaded by zombies. Yep, this sure is their life.

They exit the house to find the other Kevin having a staring match from with Ignatius, while the other unicorns pace around behind the stallion. They're unnerved by the presence of the werewolf, but Igantius, of course, is too badass to show his displeasure. No, he's doing the unicorn equivalent of pointing at his own eyes and then pointing at the werewolf's, and said wolf isn't sure whether to be offended or not.

"Ignatius, meet your Uncle Fluffy," Kevin calls from the porch. The werewolf tilts his head and gives him the stinkiest stinkeye to ever stink. Kevin waves at him.

Lacie can't help a laugh, as they watch the unicorn and werewolf posture, and it's only made all the funnier, when Kevin turns his glare on her lover. Chuckling softly, where she's leaning against her own Kevin, she joins him in his waving.

While she is (privately) ever aware and grateful for how vastly improved her life is, here in Nusquamton, there are moments like these, which throw it all into sharp relief. This moment, whether they win or lose, is one of those moments. There is never a dull one, and, to Lacie that makes life worth living.

"Can we get on with it, please?" Kevin snaps, turning away from the paddock. Seeing them looking like that when Oswald is gone is doing nothing for Kevin's mood. "I'd rather not watch you two be disgusting all night."

"What a rude little shit you are," says the other Kevin, sounding so similar to a Break that the werewolf can't help but lift his upper lip in a snarl. He tromps down the steps, nevermind the noise he makes doing so. "If you lose, that's exactly what you're going to be doing all night, assuming you don't keep us busy."

Through some unspoken, instinctive agreement, they move into position there in the backyard, giving each other precisely the requisite amount of space called for in a duel such as this. The swords come out almost in unison, with almost identical gestures, and then -- wordlessly -- the two drop into a knightly salute that's old fashioned even by Lacie's standards. Nobody who isn't a knight would bother with such a thing. Not even Glen, who favors his opponents with a nod of acknowledgement.

Lacie, for her part, takes up a position to the side, from which she can watch the both of them and step in, if need be. She doesn't need to be close, not for the way she and her Kevin fight, together.

The way the two are focused on one another, she's almost innocuous. She does not join the banter, the sharp gleam in her eyes the only indication that she's more than merely a spectator. As ever, in all things, she has her lover's back.

Edited (joing is not a word) 2014-07-17 05:17 (UTC)

As the challenger, Kevin permits the werewolf his first blow, and the other man doesn't hesitate to start them off. He begins just as Kevin would expect him to, and though it's strange to see one of his own moves in reverse, he parries easily. It's almost systematic, the way they trade these first blows, back and forth and back and forth, worldlessly testing one another. What Lacie will wind up seeing is more of a choreographed dance than anything else, something beautiful and elegant, lovely enough to belong on a stage.

But Kevin begins frowning quickly. The knight is matching him well, but because Kevin himself is holding back and testing, it's very clear just how much the wolf is holding back himself. The knight is stronger and faster, clearly. But how much of that can he be inspired to bring out in this battle?

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1/2

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And now all I can think of is that one t-shirt...

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