[PRP] ******** this (Shiloh & Jamie)

[Melancholies]

Shiloh and Jamie's room was pretty ordinary. It was late, Shiloh had been gone for a while, but he tended to get sidetracked super easy so that wasn't a surprise, right?

Except, when the door to the bedroom opened, it wasn't Shiloh.

"Delacroix," Beel stood there, apparently very awkward to be on this side of the veil, a portal shimmering behind him, "You're presence is being request in Court. If you could hurry."

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short start 4 u

 

[saedusk]

"Oh Shi-" The words died in Jamie's throat before he'd even fully turned to the door from the desk. Those stiff, awkward, formal words were definitely not his boyfriend's, nor was the face he saw in the doorway when he finally swallowed the weird lump in his throat and looked. Something wasn't right. It wasn't Beel's presence that bothered him, it was the way he spoke.

"What happened?" he asked, surprisingly calm, but obviously in danger-mode. He grabbed his bag from the bed and joined Beel by the door. "Is Shiloh alright?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Beel just sort of stared, which was surprisingly hard to accomplish because of his glaring lack of eyes. "Honestly," He said, his voice and sandpapery, "I'd like to know the very same."

Instead of offering anything insightful to say (in Beel's defense, he really was just as much in the dark), he took Jamie by the arm and forcefully led him into the shimmery portal behind him. It closed without a trace, and they were greeted with the Otherworld and more importantly, Shiloh's domain. The flowers were wilting. The atrium was filled with the gentle sound of rain overhead. Everything would seem picturesque—if not in a melancholy sort of way—if there wasn't a stark trail of blood on the path before them.

Beel only sighed, "I told him not to move."

Shiloh hadn't made it very far though; he was a little ways up, crumpled over on his knees with his arms wrapped roughly around his torso, his frame shaking as he made a harsh dry heaving sound. There, in comparison, wasn't that much blood on the floor compared to what was soaked on his person, to which it was everywhere.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

Seconds ticked by but felt like hours, felt like days. The world opened up to them and what struck him first was the sweet, syrupy smell of overgrown flora. To Jamie who knew, it smelled like blood. Not normal blood, of course, but Shiloh's blood.

He didn't wait for Beel before he took off running. Misty red splatters flung through the air from the soles of his shoes, shimmering into tiny sprouts before disintegrating into nothing.

"Shiloh!" Jamie yelled, skidding down onto his knees right next to him. He paid no mind to the blood soaking into his pink, flower-print capris. "What happened, oh god, why aren't the flowers-" The gentlest shaking hands were making the rounds across Shiloh's body.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Blood tw

Shiloh's blood was weird. It didn't splatter like normal blood, and it was slow to soak into fabric too. The consistency was wrong for it--like crawling through honey--and it stuck and clung more than it absorbed. Shiloh himself seemed unwilling to move, but his eyes snapped up at Jamie's sudden arrival, his eyes wide. There wasn't anything hawkish or predatory about his gaze now; he was the prey in this situation, tiny and small and scared like a hare.

Jamie would see it when his head loften away from his knees--a thin gash across his neck, clotted up with chunky red globs and laurels of leaves.

"They are, the flowers are..." He made a weak sound, "Its worse than it looks, promise..." His breathes were still so obviously labored, the pain palpable.

At his touch Shiloh finally started to relent, and he slowly unfurled himself not unlike the slow motion of a flower in bloom. The front of his chest was soaked and coated in a thick layer of his sap-like blood, the sprouts and roses and other flora lingering there. On his chest was the gash and painful looking roots--like the plants had sutured the wound shut--thick and gnarled and splintery...

He looked a little pale.

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[saedusk]

The flowers were, Jamie came to find out, very much trying to do their work. It was frightening, honestly, the way they looked like they were strangling Shiloh. He knew they weren't, but it looked like it.

"O-Oh... oh god," he stuttered, voice thick with worry and confusion. The frantic way his hands searched Shiloh's body slowed as they paused near his shoulders. All Jamie wanted to do was pull him straight into a hug, was express the relief he was actually alive while sporting such obviously grim injuries as these. He didn't, though, because he didn't want to hurt him. Instead Jamie touched and he fretted and Shiloh would feel a soft press against the barrier of his mind where Jamie was trying to get in.

"A-Are you... you're going to be alright, right? What the hell happened? What c-can I do?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Fine..." His voice was airy and light, "I'll be fine, just—"

Beel had stooped down to the duo too, "Shush, you're not fine." Shiloh didn't seem to have a comeback for that, "You're going to be fine, so long as you don't strain yourself. Let the plants do their work."

"I just—" It sounded like there was something in Shiloh's mouth, like his tongue was swelled and dead, "I should've killed him." He wheezed, "I let him get away, I-I didn't... I didn't fight back... why..." Suddenly he doubled over to cough, the effort paining him greatly due to the wounds and where they were located. He must've bit his cheek or some such; the petals he coughed out were small and invasive enough, but still a bizarre sight.

"Why did you hesitate indeed." Beel sighed. There were words there he refused to say, and his gnarled lack of a face hid most of his emotions on the matter. The unspoken you were raised better was nearly palpable in the way that he refrained from comforting him, though that may have been bitterness that Shiloh had directly disobeyed him. "Regardless, you're alive. Try to keep it that way."

Shiloh was silent.

"You realize you have a great deal of responsibility placed on the very state of your living condition, right?" It wasn't just Jamie; he was a principal and a Noble too. His death would have a considerable amount of weight to it. "I suppose I digress. Jamie, if you'd like to help, you could carry him." Beel stood, "I've got rooms arranged. Not necessarily for this, more for... actual guests..." He sighed, "Oh, you'll dirty up the sheets..." <******** the sheets." Shiloh spat sticky red saliva onto the ground.

"They're nice sheets." Beel rolled his eyes (or made the motion of doing so, since... his eyes were not necessarily there anymore), "Come now. Try not to move him too much, Jamie. Shiloh, don't squirm like a child.

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he's harsh bcs he's concerned

 

[saedusk]

More and more this was sounding like a talk about it later sort of situation. While Beel was right and Jamie trusted Shiloh would make it, he was still obviously shaken and upset (for good reason) and continuing to press wasn't the right thing to do. He was sure dealing with Beel's tough love and his own wibbling on top of it probably wasn't Shiloh's idea of a good time right now.

Trying to steel himself, Jamie looked up at Beel and nodded. "I-I can carry him," he said, "No problem." Though he did take a short second to lean closer to the fetch. "I agree with you," he whispered, "but... p-please don't be so harsh. He knows..."

Then he was picking up Shiloh like it was nothing. If there was ever a time to be grateful for super strength, it was now. Every touch was careful, cradling. "You did good, Shiloh," he said, sniffing. "I-I'm proud of you. Let's get some rest, okay...?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh made some sort of affirmative sound to Jamie's words, but it was covered up with a wince as he fought the urge to curl bsck in on himself.

Beel led them off into the demesne. In the back was a series of rooms--this is where Shiloh's art studio was--and the room near by were almost uncomfortable in their untouched cleanliness. Beel tore the blankets off of one of the beds to set to work. "I'm not a master of healing magic," he prefaced, meaning to comfort absolutely ******** no one. "But I'm going to stabilize him. Shiloh, your own magic should assist and take over for you."

He motioned for Jamie to lay him down, the fetches hands suddenly engulfed in a strange goopy light as he tralied them along Shiloh's muscles. It looked like he wanted to fight, but instead he relaxed instantly like he was sedated. The plants twitched. The red blood oozed into the pale white sheets.

It would be some time later before Beel permitted Shiloh to speak or move, his flesh largely gnarled and scarred but mostly stitched back together. He was laying down still, but his face was screwed up with exhaustion and anger.

"Kuroda did it." He spat.

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time skip goooo

 

[saedusk]

Nearby but out of Beel's way, that's where Jamie lingered the entire time, sending strength to Shiloh with his hands clasped tightly in front of him. Every ounce of him wanted to hold his boyfriend's hand, so he held his own instead until the moment finally came where he was permitted to swoop in and scoop it right up.

"Kuroda??" Jamie looked startled, his eyes searching Shiloh's face for signs he might be mistaken. "But he... why would he do something like this?"

Sure, Shun wasn't the friendliest person Jamie had ever met and there were times he still found himself intimidated by him, but he'd never pegged him the type to attack someone for no reason. If it really had been him, did that mean he had some sort of ulterior motive? Was he out to hurt Shiloh because of his status in magic? Jamie's mind whirled with questions.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Kuroda." He repeated, his words a little slurry.

"Shun Kuroda," Beel sounded fond, "I remember him from the ball."

Had Shiloh the mental and physical strength, he would've knocked Beel in the ribs with his boot for that one. As it was, he continued to lay there like a pathetic shell, though his hand weakly lifted up, slowly beckoned Jamie closer. There was a brush against their mind link as Shiloh opened the drift up to a slideshow of memories.

There he was, walking home with his 7/11 goods. There was the man who spoke clearly with Kuroda's voice, the knife at his throat, the terror, the running and finally the sticky, messy gash clean across his chest. Jamie could see it play out like a phantom overlay in the room.

"I don't want to believe it." Shiloh murmured.

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[saedusk]

There it was, Shun's voice, the hooded figure, everything. As much as he hated to see it, Jamie didn't close his mind to it. Like he always tried to do with Shiloh, he accepted every second, never looking away, his mind steeling like a stiffened muscle when the knife came down, painfully, straight across his boyfriend's chest.

"I don't understand it. What the hell was all that s**t he was saying? 'The magic in you is strong??'" Did that mean it really did have something to do with who Shiloh had become?

"I-I..." Jamie was grasping for words when what he really wanted to be doing was grasping for Shun Kuroda to knock some sense into him. And that was putting it lightly. "What the hell..."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Me neither..." Shiloh sighed. He sounded so tired. It was weird to watch him lay there though, if only because his chest and his neck were uh—moving. The vines and the plants and the flowers were pulsing like they had their own heartbeat. "He doesn't know I'm a principal though. Shouldn't. I mean, I haven't really been hiding it, so anyone who was smart enough to read between the lines should notice, but..."

"It's dangerous being so open like that." Beel said quietly.

"But I want to help people." Shiloh bit back, "That's all I want to do, and then s**t like this—"

"Settle down, settle down..." The fetch had a hand on Shiloh's shoulder, effectively keeping him pinned. Not that he could struggle much in the grand scheme of things. "Just wait a little while longer. The plants are working quickly."

"That or Mercer told him. I dunno, I guess it doesn't matter now..." Shiloh's eyes flickered shut for a moment of respite.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

Very carefully, that's how Jamie draped himself around Shiloh's shoulders and head, with none of the weight but all of the attempted comfort. He avoided touching the plants and potentially slowing their work, since he could tell he was already restless and ready for this to be over. Beel's hand, though, the one holding Shiloh down, he put his own hand on top of it. Just a touch, that was it.

"You shouldn't have to hide it," he said, knowing full well real life wasn't sunshine and roses and there were always people out to take advantage of someone else. "Why are people like this?" After all, didn't so many of them have the same goal in the end? Stop the cycles? Jamie knew people had ulterior motives, but he hated to judge them without knowing the truth.

"Should we talk to someone about this? He can't just get away with it..."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"What if people don't believe me though? I can't show them memories like I can show you..." He sighed. "Or maybe... it could've been a fetch? But I dunno who would've tithed him. Someone would've said so."

Beel spoke up, "Not necessarily. I couldn't tell you either way. Us fetches are sworn under our own geas to keep tithing matters quiet. "

"I could see Mercer doing it, but he'd tell someone. He wouldn't keep it quiet... and I don't think Temperance likes Kuroda that much. I guess I dunno about Rabbit or Algernon but they don't really... seem the type... not someone like Kuroda anyway..." There was a strange crawling sound—like someone walking on wet leaves—as his skin met and started to scab.

"You should focus more on resting than conjecture." Beel offered as his head inclined down, his sightless looking eyes lingering on the hand touching his gnarled, leathery one.

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