...OK. [ He shakes his head, tussles his hair with his free hand (the taken hand is staying like that for now) and takes a breath. ]
Lemme finish that story then. So after I woke up when I died—I didn't know what the hell was going on. But I woke up in a pile of corpses that had been impaled clean through which didn't make any sense. Rin and I both were using swords, and swords don't stab like that, not for long anyway.
The whole crap with Rin this weekend finally made me realize. I had an idea before then but—I don't know what you can see, but Rin is half a demon or whatever, and it was that half that came out and killed Tsuru.
...one of my partners back home said something weird to me, once. I don't wanna get into it, but she basically said we're the same, that we're both monsters. I had no idea what the hell she was going on about at the time, she's always been out there, but most people in the occult are.
I don't remember what happened on that mountain but I can still feel it. My bloodmetry went out of control, looping and looping and looping and I turned into something and then I died.
[ Oh, this hits so much closer to home than Bertolt would like. If anybody would know what it is like to turn into a monster, it would be Bertolt.
Except he has full control when he does.
He shifts slightly, turning to Akira to give him all his attention as he listens to the rest of the story play out. Bertolt does nothing else but watch Akira and listen to this. He squeezes Akira's hand once more when he states that he turned into something and died.
He wants to talk to him, he wants to speak out about what this means, but he can't. Instead, what he does is set down his glass, still unfinished, and shift a little more. With that hand now free, he reaches over and places it on Akira's shoulder, wanting to be comforting.
[ Yeah he-yeah. Akira really hadn't intended on telling Bertolt like this, but he knew what he was getting into when he brought up the whiskey himself. Or half of what he was getting into, anyway. He doesn't really know what to make of the contact (even if he knows), but there's no space for that here, and what he does find is that it helps. Maybe in part because he doesn't experience touch very often, except in the midst of a fight.
The clink of Bertolt's glass prompts him to put down his own, the edges of his vision are the slightest bit soft which can keep for now. ]
...there's a plan for that here if it happens again, because I'm not just gonna stop using my bloodmetry either. Even if it wasn't Tsuru, I still would have done it. [ That is apparently all he has to say for now, and he closes his eyes. His fingers on his bare hand curl inward, seeking. ]
[ It's a good thing they're both Bad at contact, because it would probably not be helpful if there was anymore contact than this going on. He frowns at that comment, and he thinks about what he wrote just yesterday. Knowing everything-- no, yeah, he would still say the same thing. But he thinks he understands the meaning behind Akira's statement. But he agrees that it's better than not using it. Not when it's so helpful.
He shifts the hand holding Akira's slightly, slowly threading their fingers together, wanting to give him something more to hold onto. Then he moves again, closing the distance between them more. It may no longer be cuddle week, but he just slowly presses his side against Akira's.
[ He's tired. He's tired and he's been tired since facing the Kiln last week, and of course the weekend didn't help any. It never does and he expected it, but he hadn't expected the specifics, exactly. And while he recognizes he's not alone and he's made the actions he's needed to just in case, it hasn't completely relieved the fatigue he feels. There are those he trusts still among the living, but there's just something about shooting the piss with people your own age.
Maybe that's mostly his fault, because the people here would probably listen, but Akira doesn't trust easy. The only way he really knows how to bond with people is through his fists, or through similar circumstance. It's actually kinda funny if he stepped back to think about why he's here, right now.
And right now it means he's both half-curling in on himself and half leaning back. He is tired, so tired, but in this moment he's able to breathe out just a little easier. ]
[ He feels that, he feels it so much. Sometimes, carrying the weight of everything around you can be a little too much to bear. It weighs you down and you just get used to it and when you finally get a chance to let it go and-- you realize how tired you are.
He squeezes Akira's hand once more, slightly tugging it, trying to get Akira to look at him.
Let him carry more of this for you, at least for tonight. ]
...huh? [ It takes a tug or two but eventually Akira does look at Bertolt. Would being able to exchange words make this easier, or harder? There's so much he doesn't understand right now, but as much as he can be, he's here. ]
[ Just quietly, without much miming or charades, he just leans forward and taps his forehead against Akira's. There's nothing more there, just another silent offer of companionship. Maybe words would make this easier, but Bertolt is doing what feels right to him. ]
I think I almost felt that one. [ Time for him to get into this with well it can't be called a tap, more along the lines of a bump, but it's not a full headbutt either. ]
[ This is stupid, they're stupid. Of course Akira retaliates, but one thing he's forgotten in the midst of everything else is that he's pretty far into the bottle at this point. He can hold his liquor pretty well, but asking him to do so while literally butting heads is a bit much.
He kinda slumps over half into Bertolt considering how close they are and groans. ]
...rematch. [ Closing his eyes and mumbling more than talking now: ] ...thanks.
[ They really are stupid and that's why this works for them. Unfortunately, Bertolt has to let go of Akira's hand when he slumps into it as both of his arms come up to steady him. If he could talk, he would have let out an embarrassed... well, some kind of sound between a squeak and shriek.
His face flushes even more now with how close they are. But he doesn't let go-- He just leans in again and taps his head against Akira's once more. ]
[ Maybe it's the alcohol that's still running through him. Maybe its knowing that they'll be separated again soon. But seeing Akira like this and he just feels happy. He's making moves to do what he wants to do, to not stand by and just watch things happen. So...
He would say something but instead he leans in again as though he's about to headbump him again and instead just raises his head higher and very lightly presses his lips to Akira's forehead. ]
[ He feels that even through the fog of whiskey, like many things, his blood and instincts are convenient in many ways. But he's also feeling the weight of sleep press down on him too. Whether he saw that is another matter, but an inconsequential one.
There's a soft mn, but that's really all he has when the world is spinning and he's more confused yet assured than he's ever been.
His blood at least, will ensure he remembers this in the morning. But a goodnight kiss is for sleeping, right? ]
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Lemme finish that story then. So after I woke up when I died—I didn't know what the hell was going on. But I woke up in a pile of corpses that had been impaled clean through which didn't make any sense. Rin and I both were using swords, and swords don't stab like that, not for long anyway.
The whole crap with Rin this weekend finally made me realize. I had an idea before then but—I don't know what you can see, but Rin is half a demon or whatever, and it was that half that came out and killed Tsuru.
...one of my partners back home said something weird to me, once. I don't wanna get into it, but she basically said we're the same, that we're both monsters. I had no idea what the hell she was going on about at the time, she's always been out there, but most people in the occult are.
I don't remember what happened on that mountain but I can still feel it. My bloodmetry went out of control, looping and looping and looping and I turned into something and then I died.
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Except he has full control when he does.
He shifts slightly, turning to Akira to give him all his attention as he listens to the rest of the story play out. Bertolt does nothing else but watch Akira and listen to this. He squeezes Akira's hand once more when he states that he turned into something and died.
He wants to talk to him, he wants to speak out about what this means, but he can't. Instead, what he does is set down his glass, still unfinished, and shift a little more. With that hand now free, he reaches over and places it on Akira's shoulder, wanting to be comforting.
Please talk to him more. ]
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The clink of Bertolt's glass prompts him to put down his own, the edges of his vision are the slightest bit soft which can keep for now. ]
...there's a plan for that here if it happens again, because I'm not just gonna stop using my bloodmetry either. Even if it wasn't Tsuru, I still would have done it. [ That is apparently all he has to say for now, and he closes his eyes. His fingers on his bare hand curl inward, seeking. ]
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He shifts the hand holding Akira's slightly, slowly threading their fingers together, wanting to give him something more to hold onto. Then he moves again, closing the distance between them more. It may no longer be cuddle week, but he just slowly presses his side against Akira's.
Small touches, just enough to say "I'm here". ]
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Maybe that's mostly his fault, because the people here would probably listen, but Akira doesn't trust easy. The only way he really knows how to bond with people is through his fists, or through similar circumstance. It's actually kinda funny if he stepped back to think about why he's here, right now.
And right now it means he's both half-curling in on himself and half leaning back. He is tired, so tired, but in this moment he's able to breathe out just a little easier. ]
...fuck.
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He squeezes Akira's hand once more, slightly tugging it, trying to get Akira to look at him.
Let him carry more of this for you, at least for tonight. ]
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You'd need to headbutt me a lot harder than that.
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He kinda slumps over half into Bertolt considering how close they are and groans. ]
...rematch. [ Closing his eyes and mumbling more than talking now: ] ...thanks.
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His face flushes even more now with how close they are. But he doesn't let go-- He just leans in again and taps his head against Akira's once more. ]
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Mn?
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[ Who bothers picking words when you're half asleep. He's not moving at all, and this would be "last chance to say your piece" but looks at ghost. ]
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He would say something but instead he leans in again as though he's about to headbump him again and instead just raises his head higher and very lightly presses his lips to Akira's forehead. ]
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There's a soft mn, but that's really all he has when the world is spinning and he's more confused yet assured than he's ever been.
His blood at least, will ensure he remembers this in the morning. But a goodnight kiss is for sleeping, right? ]
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... I'm sorry for Akira having to deal with sleeping Bertolt at some point because he's not moving and will pretty quickly fall asleep too. ]