Eye of the Beholder

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: 3rd Earth's Rest, Ash 122
NOTES: OPEN ME

► Show Spoiler

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Gaining a new rune, to some, is a momentous occasion. Really, it ought to be, considering the mortality risk involved regarding any given initiation. Many of them have little one can do to prepare or for the initiator to even intervene, though this is not always the case. Nevertheless, some individuals tend to have a more laissez-faire attitude towards the concept, either arrogantly assuming that there is no risk because they are inherently special or, in some rare cases, simply not caring because death does not concern them.

Though Æros does happen to exist within the parameters of the latter camp for the most part, he awaited his lover now with some semblance of trepidation that he did not possess regarding the idea of runic initiations in the past. Though he adores his sister and she made great ceremony out of the transferral of her rune to him, he had no concern at all regarding whether or not he survived such a thing. In the present, however, he did not feel quite the same degree of apathy.

It was not because he weighted Masquerade's initiation any more or any less than that of Semblance, rather, it was because should he perish here, he worried about the impact such a scenario would have on the mind of the one granting him the rune. Not that his sister wouldn't have been upset, it's just…well, Khyan had gotten markedly upset when he'd only but up and vanished for a week, and they had only just met, so to imagine how destabilized he might become if the Færie were to perish, effectively, at his hands? That would be an outcome quite poor, indeed.

Æros was presently located within the confines of his demesne, little as it was, pacing around a small collection of plants he'd acquired over the past few weeks from Hilana, fussing over them, really. Magitek lamps were set up in an elaborate, aesthetically pleasing way encompassing a whole rather ornate shelving system made of glass and gold. On it rested a pot of violets, the first plant he had purchased, violet both by name and hue, alongside several additional pots and beds of flowers. White violets, red poppies and lavender, to name but a few.

He was doing this because he was anxiously awaiting the arrival of his lover, his would-be initiator, of whom he had told to come to him on this day. The time he was to arrive had been left variable, knowing that the boy can't really control his schedule. Æros simply agreed to linger 'round his home until the boy was able to cut out a swath of time to show up. Unfortunately, the longer he had to wait, the more time there was for the half-blood Fæ to ruminate about possible poor outcomes or the possibility of the other not showing up at all.

Then there was the fact that he'd agreed to speak to somebody in order to negotiate his official acquisition of his little lover, too, at the whimsy of whomever the delegate for such a thing was. At this point, he was waiting to hear back from the family that currently held onto the boy's leash, not entirely sure when he'd hear back regarding such negotiations. And on top of that, things regarding his own family had begun to roll again so it was just…a lot on his mind for him to be at home alone with his thoughts.

For some of this time, however, the elf was asleep– though to make sure Khyan would be able to enter if that were the case, he had left the door unlocked. He very much doubted anyone else would try and come in, but if that were to happen, he wasn't incredibly concerned. As a master Mesmer, he would likely be able to turn anyone else away, and if that were not the case, he doubted a lock would've stopped such an intrusion anyways.

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'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

Although Khyan had been a master of his Craft since before his final year of school and had studied conferral along with every other element included in a classical arcane education, he'd never actually done it. It had been a couple of years and quite a bit of wine since those lessons. He'd been hesitant at Æros' initial request for various reasons, not the least of which being his own competency. But it was hard for the Vastian to say no to the demi-Re'hyæan. Perhaps that was inherent, but even if it weren't it was certainly an element of their dynamic.

Had Khyan yet been a patrician, he'd have consulted his old texts and notebooks to fill in the gaps in his memory. Such as things were, those items had been seized along with his wardrobe, his wyvern and all his other belongings upon sentencing. The good thing was that his current master was his erstwhile classmate, and so the texts were still available, if not his personal notes. Another boon was that he had little else to do with his days but study. He hadn't been the most diligent student at the academy, relying upon his natural talents, so it was probably just as well his middling notes were absent. But with his diversionary options severely limited, he was much more keen to devote time and energy to research. Also, because there was a life on the line that very much mattered to him.

When the day was at hand, he was stopped on the way out by his master to be handed a letter. The conversation had been initiated by Æros about the potential transaction that might reshuffle Khyan's fate. The novel slave wasn't aware of the details. That had been by design, and with his consent. He didn't want to get his hopes up too much, and so he discouraged Cetus from involving him overmuch in the orchestration. If things went awry, he preferred vagueness. Whatever the case, he would serve as courier of the news of his own fate.

He arrived at the appointed time, and showed himself into the flat of his lover of late.

"Æros?" He peeked his head in and glanced around. Though there were no signs of anything overtly amiss, he was still nervous. He'd always been escorted into this place. It felt odd to insert himself this brazenly. He twirled the envelope in his hands as he trudged forth and shut the door behind him.

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

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When it came to caring for plantlife, the trick to making sure they thrived was providing them with precisely what each needed, nothing more and nothing less. So while he did want to keep himself ever occupied by continuing to fuss with the botanicals that adorned his shelves, there came a point wherein he knew he had to stop, lest he end up doing more harm than good. Unfortunate, that, as the act of doing so kept both his hands and his mind busy, at least to a degree.

Wanting to do no harm, however, he did force himself to stop and find something else to occupy himself with as he waited. It did not take long to think of something given the fact that the very plants he was messing with served as a reminder. He'd bought all of them from the same place, the same person, though it wasn't only live plants he'd purchased from this friend of his. Additionally, he'd acquired quite the collection of teas and so he thought it might help calm his nerves to brew some.

It was not long after he'd finished doing so that he found himself sitting at a desk in his living room with the tea he'd made– a strong black tea with bergamot oil, jasmine, vanilla and a touch of cream– and a text concerning Semblance. He'd read about the initiation process many times in the past and then a time or two over the past several days, but now he found himself just staring at it, hoping he would not succumb to an ill fate. In a way, he hated this worry, this paranoia. He hated that he cared, that he held any value for his own life, that he worried about how it would hurt Khy should he perish. The longer he waited, the more his unease would grow. Life was quite a bit easier when he was steeped so thoroughly in apathy, to be frank, but that very same apathy was the root of many a poor choice.

All the same, he was quite startled when he heard the door to his flat open on its own. Æros stood and stepped over to where the entryway was in view, hearing his name called by a familiar voice as he moved. He was immediately relieved to see the figure that had entered, his mood immediately picking up as it always did in the boy's presence.

"What've you got there?" The Fæ inquired as he approached, curious about the letter his lover held.

It was hard to resist touching the other, and so when he was close enough, he cupped the boy's face in his hands and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

Stepping back, "always am I glad to see you, love…and ever excited am I to soon be the bearer of your rune." The half-blood spoke with a genuine smile, because he really did look forward to such a thing regardless of the inherent risks involved.

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'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

It wasn't a long walk from Cetus' domus to Æros', but today it felt long. Khyan was anxious about both the initiation and the letter he bore, which might mark the deal that would invert this same path he was taking. Now he was heading from his home to visit a friend, but soon he would be heading home from visiting a friend in taking this same route- Or so he hoped. He still didn't know what Æros' designs on him upon purchase were. He was averse to asking outright, lest he seem like an opportunist. Were Khyan in Æros' position, he would likely have feared their relationship to have been a ruse designed to acquire his freedom. Thus, he might not have been so keen to grant freedom straight away. There was also the House of Argenti to consider. Cetus may have stuck his neck out to free hi friend, but his father would doubtless take umbrage were one of his prize slaves from his arch-rival gens sold only to be instantly liberated. It would have reflected poorly upon Cetus, and given the consul of the Senatus Minor cause dislike Æros. Positioned as he was, he might have even made the lives of some of his social betters difficult.

Those concerns accompanied him on his little trek, but as Æros stepped into view, they melted away. At least for now.

"A letter from the Major Domus of my household." Khyan said, glancing to the letter as he adjusted the strap of a small satchel he had slung over one shoulder. He shut his eyes in answer to the kiss, smiling faintly.

"Well, here's hoping I don't muck up the rite. It'll be my first time conferring a Rune..." They'd spoken about this, but he felt it bore remarking upon often and pointedly as to keep his lover's expectations as low as possible. It was entirely within the realm of possibility that Khyan would fail and Æros would remain Semblanceless. A notion which frightened Khyan, for some reason. Sweet at Æros tended to be with him, he feared he might be miffed over the dashing of his expectations.

He handed the letter over to Æros, and pulled his satchel round to the front of his body, letting both hands rest upon it.

"Where shall we set up? The bedroom, I presume?" It was a regular haunt of theirs such that Khyan certainly knew the way, but beyond that it was a solid choice because it was a comfortable place in which to recover. He would head wherever Æros directed. Meanwhile, should the half-elf choose to open the letter delivered by the quarter-elf, he would break the wax seal bearing the crest of Gens Argenti and find the following:

Endymion Len’Sælyan Æros Dominus:

Speaking on behalf of the household of Dominus Argenti Cetus, I would like to inform you that His Lordship has been made aware of your interest in the purchase of Khyan Servus, formerly of Gens Nykara. His Lordship is amenable to such a transaction and will accept a fair market price for a slave of Khyan's age and stock. Anything less than 10,000 Aværyan Avens would be an insult to his pedigree and to Gens Argenti. I am certain you'll agree he would be likely to go for a great deal more should he be auctioned off in the open market. There are sensitive details which His Lordship of Argenti hesitates to put to paper. As his Major Domus, I tend to his accounting and business affairs and would be willing to meet at your convenience to address His Lordship's concerns that we might come to a mutually acceptable arrangement.

Please write back with your availability or, if you no longer have interest in this transaction or there was some misunderstanding on our part as to your intentions, you may ignore this missive entirely.

Under the Scepte of the Master and the Scourge of the Mistress,

Simeon Orvidius Vascos

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

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When the boy spoke, Æros' expression changed little regarding the missive right away, for there was a chance, however slight, that his inquiry into acquiring Khyan would be outright declined. Such a thing would be…most unfortunate. When the Færie took the letter from his lover, he removed the seal with a claw and opened it standing right there. To his relief, he was not declined; however, the price of the boy was a bit…steep.

The number was a little painful, but he didn't let that part show on his face– he still fully intended to go through with this purchase as he'd promised. It's also not as if he wasn't warned about the potential price, so while this wasn't exactly a surprise, it was a questionable sum to spend all of a sudden. He wasn't entirely sure how to answer were anyone to inquire about why, other than, he supposed that he simply wanted a servus here as he currently had none under his direct employ. And while that made sense, it would be a coin toss between the acquisition then being seen as extravagant or an ill-advised waste.

And then regarding the perception of others further, there was also the question of when exactly to liberate the boy. To do so right away would be seen as a rather fascinating decision given exactly who the boy was as well as the circumstances surrounding his fall from grace. Ideally, Æros did want to wait, his reasons being largely selfish, but self-preservation is a trait most necessary. His concern in that regard, really, was that if Khyan were to poke at him about it, he'd feel guilty telling the boy no.

The half-blood considered these things while he looked over the letter, though his thoughts were interrupted when Khyan mentioned the rite. "Oh, I've full faith in you. Though you've never done this before, you are really rather impressive a mage– if there's reason to be concerned at all it would be regarding my mortality, but…" he trailed off for a second, realizing that last bit wasn't exactly a reassuring sentiment. "...but, ah…Platinum and Fæ blood have to count for something, no? I'm sure all will be well." He sounded confident, but was he? There's always risk.

Further, "...and yes, I imagine the strain will leave me exhausted."

With that, Æros led Khyan through the familiar hall back to his bedchamber. "And lest you wonder, the letter named a price for you– one I will pay. I'll pen a response for you to bring back before we start."

And of that, he did. Paper, ink and wax to write and seal his acceptance of the offer were quite easy for him to collect, but it did take him a minute to find the stamp of his family crest to seal the envelope with. It'd been a bit since he'd had to send something this official, in truth.

With that out of the way, he handed his correspondence off to Khy to store in his bag lest he forget it and then made his way over to his bed and sat down.

"I thought it would be cute to let you choose the location and design of the rune, but do let me know if you're at a loss for ideas and I'll think of something," he spoke sweetly, maintaining a reasonable amount of levity in his tone.

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'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

Though Khyan might have found it creditable that the Færie failed to register surprise at his price, but for several factors. Firstly, Khyan wasn't actually aware of what was detailed in the letter, so he didn't know that price had been broached at all. Secondly, his eyes remained downcast, because he didn't want to seem overly interested in the letter or Æros' reception to its contents. The curiosity was intense, though, and surely spilled copiously free of his Symphony if the other sought out the song of his soul.

Æros took more time with the letter than Khyan might have expected. Well did he know how excited and enthusiastic the half-elf was about this Rune conferral, so it actually struck him as sweet that he set aside a few moments to concern himself with Khyan's affairs. This may have meant the world to Khyan, but truly Æros had no personal stake in it beyond what affections he bore the mostly human slave. That instilled in Khyan a warm feeling. As if his very soul was being embraced, as his body so often was by the larger man.

By and by, the focus of the Fæ did shift back to his own more immediate concerns, and Khyan took a nervous, quivering inward breath at the mention of mortality. There were far more dangerous Runes to confer, though Khyan wasn't equipped to offer any other at his current level of training. And the Mesmer had already brooked the more precarious initiation of two others Runes, so he didn't feel as though he should be overly worried.

"Not really..." Khyan corrected, "Your mortality is my greatest concern, sure, but... If you did die, Æros, there would be an investigation as to the cause..." He trailed off, and would leave it at that. The implications were clear enough, the former patrician thought. He was another man's slave. If Sentinel Semblers sought to dissect the scenario of what had transpired, they would learn that Khyan had come and done this of his own accord. They would learn of the relationship that existed between the slave and the Fæ. And Khyan, too, would meet some sort of doom for his troubles. It was a risk he'd accepted willingly and didn't regret. If Æros died before buying him, his life was as good as forfeit anyway... or so it often felt. Still, he hoped the other man understood that this was not a gift lightly bestowed for a slave to offer of his own volition. Æros was no plebeian peon. The Sentinels would put real effort into any investigation of his death, should it come prematurely.

Khyan nodded, pursuing his lover into the increasingly familiar bedroom. He arched an eyebrow at the news delivered about the contents of the letter, but he didn't comment upon the details nor Æros' intended response. He smiled to himself and wandered toward the bed, allowing the other to compose the letter. He thought to protest and say that his response could wait, but in truth it probably couldn't. Who knew how the Fæ would fare on the edge of the threshold? It might be days before he could think properly enough to compose a coherent reply pertaining to a delicate business transaction. It was best he tend to the matter in advance of the conferral.

"Gratias..." He said softly, as he accepted the sealed letter and placed it into his satchel. Smiling, he placed the small bag down on the bed and began sifting through it.

"I've made a few decisions, already..." Khyan's grin turned a bit mischievous, "But I'll let you choose the location. That, I think, is a very personal decision." He bit his lip, and thought back to his education. "In classical training, they inform us that one should always be very deliberate in the selection of where one places a Rune. It can mean the difference between life and death in certain scenarios, so I ask you. When you think of Semblance as a concept... where do you think you'd feel it in your body?"

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

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The most notable thing about Khyan's behavior on this day was that he was quite meek compared to how Æros had come to expect. In many an other scenario, the boy was really rather excitable, more energetic, possessing a sort of mischief and curiosity the Færie had come to find really rather charming. As such, he let æther flow through him and into the rune adorning his chest, opening himself to the song of the boy's heart.

First and foremost, he was struck by the sheer weight of the boy's anxiety and worry. Of course, these emotions were really quite expected, but Æros was a man unfamiliar with the concept of people caring about him deeply as, well, a person– a man with his own mind, desires, and so on. For most in his life, he was used to being regarded for how he would benefit them in one way or another and the depth of feeling was oft quite shallow. It caused his breath to catch and a troubling sort of heaviness to wrap 'round his heart.

At the same time, however, he heard the softer, more affectionate melodies regarding both how he felt towards Æros and how Æros' own affections made him feel. These notes made him feel both happily adored but almost worse, in a way– his guilt for distressing the boy only served to grow as a result.

And then when Khyan spoke again, his voice was so soft, his words trailing. Those emotions the Mesmer had just read hung so very heavy in his voice. The mixed blood leaned forward, eyes level with that of his lover, one hand on a shoulder and the other cupping the boy's cheek. "Khy, darling, I've done, ah…so much deliberate harm to my own body, my soul, my æther over the years through methods both mundane and magical. I brooked Mesmer as a child, Masquerade under the influence of a cocktail of drugs, my mind altogether not my own– and here I am, still breathing. While it would be outright ignorant to deny the risk, I promise you, it's infinitesimal." He spoke low and warm with great sincerity, encouragement and affection woven lovingly into each word.

At the same time, he pushed those emotions in subtle waves into the other man's Symphony– not to manipulate him, but because it hurt him to see his lover so skittish with worry.

It was then that the two of them switched locations and Æros opted to write his own correspondence, assuming he'd be not altogether coherent for a not altogether negligible amount of time. He wasn't quite sure when Khyan would have to leave his side, but he did want to make sure that when the boy did, he would have what he needed to state his intention to proceed with his acquisition.

It was encouraging on his end to see brighter expressions don the sweet, boyish features of his partner when the two had sat down, Æros wrapping an arm 'round the waist of the other. But then regarding the placement of the rune, he really wasn't quite sure. The locations that immediately stuck out to him were cerebral and ocular. Those being on his optic disc or frontal lobe and he was, well, quite aware that accessing those locations would be exceedingly questionable in the very best of circumstances.

"Mhmm, so I, too, was taught. Unless you've a way to access my brain or the back of my eyes, give me a moment to think." And such was the hard part– coming up with something else that wasn't also inherently difficult to access.

"Those aside, far be it from me to shirk a good idea for the sake of originality; back of the neck, above the first two vertebrae of the spine." Æros stated this with features baring a soft smile, not at all displeased to further 'match' the other in this way.

His lover's rune also sat on the back of his neck, but such a placement made anatomical sense, all things considered. If one were to believe the as yet hard to map pathways of æther would mimic more mundane bodily functions, it would make sense to put it here should one not have a competent Necromancer handy to access the other locations.

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'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

It was true that Khyan's demeanour, typically enthusiastic and sanguine, was well tempered with his worries this day. Whilst their private time was usually a joyful escape from the anxieties of his dreary days as a servus, today was a slog through the fear that he was putting the single star of hope he orbited at risk of being snuffed out. He'd never seen it himself, but he'd been told that individual stars did betimes vanish from the sky, leaving their constellations wanting evermore.

He was not incognizant of the fact that Æros was better situated than most to receive a Rune and that this was among the least threatening to bear. Upper class Solunarians, particularly those of Re'hyæan stock, were literally bred to brook initiations. In some echelons one was more likely to die in childbirth than initiation, and yet some did. Like a single star in the vasty multitude overhead disappearing from the night sky, so too did the odd wellborn, mage-bred Solunarian die amidst a Semblance initiation. And the fact that there was any chance at all, and how gods-awful his luck had been of late, it made for a cocktail of concern that no amount of consoling was going to wholly dismiss.

Even the Fæ's argument for why he was better poised than most to receive the Rune worked counter to Æros' intent. In highlighting the harm he'd done to himself, Khyan could only think of the cumulative damage that might have been dealt and how it might have served to weaken the other, rather than toughen him up. Ironically, the one thing in his arsenal that might truly quell his concerns was the very Rune he was about to confer. And it only occurred to him belatedly to take full advantage of its boons.

Faint mists, like reflections in the darkness of his eyes, gathered like a quiet storm before the backdrop of his irises as he regarded Æros' Aura. Weaving and wending through the Structure before him, Khyan sought out useful information to prepare himself and Æros for the task to come. As he did so, he began to lay out implements from his satchel. A book, a small empty jar, a paintbrush and a pebble of ætherite. By the time the items were laid out, his assessment was complete. He gave another pass over his Aura and, remembering the little, possessive caption he'd placed upon Æros early on in their concourse, he thought it wise to erase it, which he did with a sweeping gesture of his hand. With Khyan's caveat removed and a clearer picture derived from the Aura, the storm in his Symphony quieted and the storm in his eyes dissipated as he inquired:

"Have you a mortar and pestle?" Upon being directed to the item in question, he would set it up on a table with the ætherite pebble resting beside it.

He smirked slightly at the Færie's choice of a spot for the mark.

"When in doubt, go for what's tried and true, hm?" The man could certainly do worse than imitating Khyan's conferral. He was, after all, quite adept in this particular Craft and had succeeded in his mastery with the Rune in that very spot. It was a sound decision on Æros' part, in truth. He moved to a position form whence to view the back of Æros, and swept his hair aside to get a glimpse of his bare neck.

"Can your stars be stilled, or at least slowed? The optical illusion might cause my eyes to unsteady my hand..." That was a hurdle he hadn't considered before now. "And you'll want to tie your hair up before I begin that bit, but first the fun part." Khyan smirked, "We need ink. There are lots of things one might use, but one technique is to find a way to bind the initiate with the conferring runebearer. So, I thought we might, um... Blend a bit of our, shall we say, 'essence'?" He held up the small jar and shook it back and forth in front of his own, grinning face.

"Something of your body married to something of mine..." He slid his hand up Æros' thigh, "And we might have fun making it." He bit his lip, and shrugged one shoulder almost apologetically. "I mean we could just go really old school and use blood, which may be more to your liking, but I thought this would be more fun." He paused the advance of his hand.

"What do you say?"

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

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For a moment, after he had spoken, Æros' own anxieties rose as he felt the very same thing within the song of his lover. What he'd said had actually not helped at all, though he wasn't quite sure why given the fact that, from his perspective, if he'd weathered many a storm before it meant that his foundation was sound. It took him a second to realize that the other man likely took his words from a more pessimistic perspective– that of assuming that such weathering had, perhaps, worn away his defenses. In response, he gave his lover a pleading, sympathetic look and briefly kissed the boy.

Pulling away, "Believe me, love…I know what I can weather. I'm confident in myself and in you." And of that, he spoke true. He in his own blood and the other in his skill, both were impressive in their own right.

The discordant notes of the boy's worries didn't rightly quiet until after the pair found themselves sitting together, Khyan unpacking what supplies he had brought with him. Æros did notice the mist in the boy's eyes, like grey clouds, and this was reassuring to the both of them, really. For the Færie, he assumed his partner would see that he was sturdy, strong enough to brook the initiation and be just fine. For his lover, he would see exactly that and…whatever else lay hidden in the larger one's Aura.

When an additional implement was requested, Æros thought about it for but a moment then got up to collect the mortar and pestle, not taking long at all– it was in the same room, too.

To Khy's response regarding his choice of location, "aye, unless you've a mind to butcher me for access to the alternatives, I can't quite think of a better option." Words delivered with levity, laughter at the end.

But when Khy inquired about stilling the movement of his stars, the Færie tilted his head in consideration, for this was…not something he'd actually ever thought to try. They'd always moved. He'd always liked that they'd moved. There had been no real reason to stop them prior, so he had never tried. Could he? They were, ostensibly, fragments of his own æther. While he could not quiet their light or create more at will, perhaps he could make their movement cease? For a moment, he closed his eyes to try and find a focal point of sorts. It didn't take long, but the celestial bodies upon his form did languidly decelerate to a stop.

"Apparently I can," he remarked, almost a bit surprised.

At the mention of tying his hair up, the Fæ moved to pull a band from his wrist and lifted his arms to begin doing just that while his lover continued to speak about what ink they ought to use. To him, the most apparent idea off the top of his head would be to use a mix of their blood, but it would appear the smaller of the two had a rather different idea. A novel one, at that.

The slide of the boy's hand cemented Æros' guess as to exactly what the other had meant, pulling a bit of a giggle from his chest and painting an impish sort of grin over the Fæ’s starry features. "Oh? What a fascinating idea you've come up with. One I cannot decline."

With that said and his hair tied, he moved to pull the boy into his lap, his own hands running over the contours of his lover's abdomen, thinly veiled by the fabric of his clothing. "I could never deny your touch, and to carry a piece of you 'round in so literal a sense?" He laughed, almost bashful. "I'd love that." His voice was honeyed and affectionate, clearly very amused by the idea.

- - -

'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

Khyan raised both eyebrow and stroked his narrow chin between his thumb and forefinger, as if truly considering the possibility of butchering the Færie for a moment. By and by, he cracked a smile and shook his head.

"It's a fine choice, if not original. I didn't mention..." He tapped the pad of his index finger against the textbook between them, "There are particular spots that are suggested right in the book. That's why I picked my spot. It's not unwise to emulate someone you know to use the Rune successfully. Look at that. Not even a Sembler yet, and you're already divining unseen paths. You sure you still want the Rune?" Again he was in jest, and the expression that cracked his feigned seriousness as the same as it had been after the prior jape.

Khyan relaxed back a bit, letting Æros take a few moments to experiment with the motions of his stars and galaxies. He tilted his head, admiring the control and the sheer æsthetics of it. He looked, even through his Rune, finding it so queer how this effect, which might have been emulated with simple Masquerade, was rather inherent to the man. He looked like a garment one might buy in the Underforum, or have augmented by some enchanter for an exorbitant price, but næ. This was his very skin. And through the Rune of Semblance, it looked different than any façade born of Masquerade might muster. As the stars drew to a stop, he smiled faintly.

"Very well. You can set them back to roaming for now. I just wanted to make sure it was possible. If it wasn't, I might have needed to figure something out." An impish grin crossed Khyan's boyish face as Æros consented to his rather cheeky suggestion.

"Well, given our choice of ink, more's the better that we're not carving the Rune into your eye." Khyan observed, "It would quite sting, I should say..." He trailed off as Æros drew him onto his lap, and grinned at the reception to his suggestion. Another man might have thought it gross or creepy, so he'd been the slightest bit nervous to broach the notion. That Æros was so enthusiastic was a relief indeed.

"Then you shall have it." Khyan whispered as his lips drew closer to those of the Fæ.

Khyan would take his time with his lover, unless the other man was in any rush toward a different sort of climax. After all, this would be the last time they made love as they were. Under the assumption that the half-elf survived his initiation, which Khyan accepted at this point, he still wouldn't be quite the same. And even if things didn't change that much between them, there was still the threshold sickness of the initiation to consider. He might be out of commission for a spell, and so it behooved Khyan for selfish reasons to take his time enjoying their congress while it was his for the taking.

Because of the nature of their magics, and their familiarity, at this point, with the buttons of the other, it wasn't a challenge to coordinate release. And soon the jar was more than half full with the union of their two essences. Khyan swirled the little vessel, holding it up to the light of Æros's skin and smiling.

"The first ingredient has been collected." He rose from the bed, now nude, wiping himself off and making his way over to the mortar and pestle, where he would grind down the pebble of ætherite to dust. This would be sprinkled amongst the contents of the jar and stirred, until the white essence was aglitter with ætheric potential.

"This will ease the transition." Khyan explained. "With the ætherite dust infused into the ink, the Rune will be primed to meld seamlessly into the æther of your body and soul." Perhaps the other man was already aware of this from his own education, but perhaps not. Some people thought it was wasteful or bore a placebo effect, but Khyan was a believer. And if there was anything he could do to increase Æros' odds of not just survival, but comfort? He was inclined to do it. With the now glowing jar in hand, he returned to the bed and sat down behind Æros.

"Now, let's still those stars again, hm? We're about ready to begin." He opened the text to the appropriate page, and set the book where he could see it beside Æros' bottom, then took up the paintbrush in one hand as he lifted the jar with the other.

"Incipiamus."