You’re a mess, darling [ Volker ] [M]

[SanctifiedSavage]

The smell of cooked food was a rarity to Shura. Always something that was on the approach to a place, but rarely, actually around him and he quite liked it. He watched, interested, in what was being done to the food. Trying to file it away for later, but it was like grasping at sand. Some of it was there, but a lot of it was slipping away. Unnecessary. Unneeded. Too many other things rattling his mind and bouncing off his skull for him to maintain too much focus.

When he was handed the plate, the small smile remained and he accepted it readily. As before, though, he ate slow. Tasting it all and certainly eating it all. He might not know how to cook anything, but that didn't mean he didn't like having warm food. The voices and blood might be sustained on killing alone, but Shura certainly couldn't.

At the question, Shura did pause to consider. Trying to find an answer. His eyes, as red as the blood he controlled, scanned the room. The mess. The cold, stiff bodies that had been mangled when he'd ripped their life blood from them in a desperate rush to get it out of them. Out. Mine.

He rubbed at one of his eyes before shaking his head. "It's not... about killing them. That just happens when they don't have... when their blood is pulled out of them." It was the best answer he had. The most accurate. He didn't care to kill them, that was simply a biproduct of their siren-song blood calling to him and, when he arrived, he pulled it to him. Like called to like. Shura took the last bite he had, eyeing his new friend. "I can hear yours, too. Like a little song, playing in the back of my mind. Quiet, but there. Not like..." He glanced back to the pile he'd made.

[Volker]

Volker glanced at the bodies. "It is waste." he said in disgust. Shura might have needed the blood, but the pile of bodies was offensive to Volker. It wasn't the death that bothered him. It was the waste. Hundreds of pounds of meat and organs all frozen in the snow, or beginning to stink in the house. If there was one thing Volker prided himself on, it was keeping his killing to a minimum. Only what he needed to feed himself. When he had a mate and a family, it had been different. He'd needed to hunt to satisfy their gargantuan appetites. Now killing was less often with his slow metabolism.

He shook his head and bared his teeth a moment. He didn't like it at all. The very sight of the pile was making him anxious. Like he should be doing something. Using them. Letting something happen like that rankled. He had to stop looking at it. At the waste. He shook his head again and looked at the fire. "You will not have my blood." he added.

He had to move them. He got up and began shifting the pile outside. Having them there irritated him. At least outside they were frozen and preserved, and animals could get to them. Not just rotting away inside. Oor watched him, shaking his head. It really does bother him, you know. Wasting bodies. Wasting anything really. Distract him or he's going to be at it all day. From what I saw under that coat you've got a good way to do it. Oor grinned at him, and vanished.

[SanctifiedSavage]

Shura certainly had no concept of whatever waste Reinhard was talking about. Blood was hardly a waste to him, though once it was inert and spilled, cold and coagulated, it quieted. Stilled, for Shura. The pile had just been a byproduct of pulling it all together. Pulling it close until it ripped free from them and surrounded Shura, quieting his mind and tending to him as the craft was wont to do when it was given so much energy, so much sustenance. Filling up Shura and overflowing into reflexive action.

Still, he felt like he was being scolded. Not a new feeling. He had been by those that whispered in his mind or growled through his thoughts. When he'd done something he shouldn't or they teased him about something he either didn't understand, and should, or had missed something obvious. It was odd, yet again, to come from someone else. Someone he could see and not an insubstantial figure or shadow just on the fringes of his vision.

He didn't acknowledge the declaration that he wouldn't have Reinhard's blood. He didn't want it. Instinctively, he knew that would kick up a fight at the best, his new friend's death at the worst. Or his own.

With a soft sigh, his breath clouding a little, Shura stood and started to help. Mimicking what Reinhard was doing because he didn't know what he was really doing – so he took the bodies out into the snow, a bit away, and used his hands to create a place for them. It was cold and there was a lot of hissing, protesting, whining noise in his mind but the overriding thought was he should clean up. The loudest, a growl that smothered it all.

He was single minded in his task, so he wasn't entirely aware that he was quite cold and shivering. That would come once he was done. Once they were done. He could crumple next to the fire, then.

[Volker]

Not what I meant. You're as rock headed as he is. Oor groused as he watched the pair pull bodies out into the snow. The spirit tapped his fingers against his arm. Well there was no getting through to this pair. Volker would continue to foster that misguided sense of paternal care, and Shura would accept it out of ignorance. Oor understood he was still mourning, but how long did the old killer need? He rolled his eyes at the pair as Volker came back inside, their task finished. He sat next to the fire, pulling his knife roll from his thigh and a sharpening stone from the roll. Great. Sharpening those things would take hours and Volker had a very single minded focus when it came to honing them.

Oor sighed and walked over to Shura. Are you a child? Or are you as boring as he is? There's nothing left to kill here. Volker's eyes flicked up to the spirit. He knew what Oor was doing. Oor was bored. That meant he either wanted to goad someone into a fight (which he was monstrously skilled at), tease him for being gay, or shove the pair at one another. "Oor." Volker growled. He didn't appreciate it. He liked silence and peace. Oor didn't. There was a reason they stuck to cities and not towns like this. The silence would drive Oor to do something stupid.

[SanctifiedSavage]

Shura sat next to the fire, tossing a couple of logs onto it, before he peered at the spirit. The one that didn't run away from his attention. His red eyes lingered on Oor before he ran a blood stained had through his matted hair, undoing some of the dried blood tangles. "I don't want him to dislike me," he clarified, glancing back at the spirit. "People... Strangers... don't usually stay near me. I don't want him to leave." It was nice, the sounds he made. The normal noises. Hearing someone else breath in the same room. Having another alive.

Even the quiet song his blood sang to Shura was sweet and comforting. Which meant, that if he did something that upset Reinhard, he needed to fix it.

After he was sure the fire was fed, Shura shifted closer to Reinhard. Watching him to make sure he wasn't encroaching where he wasn't wanted. When he was just within arm's reach, Shura settled next to him and leaned against him. For the warmth, to be close. Then, he murmured, "I don't want you dislike me. You're the first that's ever... stayed. I'll try to be... mm. Better?" He wasn't sure what that meant, and Shura wasn't sure he would even remember next time, but he'd try if it meant he'd get to sleep next to someone and, if that someone would make him food again.

Shura considered the spirit, the black shadow, as though his question had just registered. In a way, it had. "No, I'm not a child. If there's something you want me to do, though, you're going to need to tell me." Subtle was not his strong suit. Neither were reading clues.

[Volker]

Oor raised an eyebrow and looked at Volker. He thinks of you as something hes got to take care of, and there's enough meat around to keep him invested. Trust me, he's not going anywhere. Its irritating the way he thinks he's got to take care of everything. He'll strangle a man to death with his own teeth but can't stand to see a kid like you starve or freeze. He sighed irritably. Just blow him or something so he doesnt start treating you like a baby.

A loud growl was heard from Volker. He had his head lowered, his eyes staring at Oor, and the growl he was making vibrated through his chest with an unnervingly deep tone. He was perfectly fine with the way things were. Oor could go stuff himself; he liked the quiet. He stiffened when he felt Shura lean against him, and it took a little bit for him to relax enough to go back to staring at the fire. Eventually he settled an arm around Shura's shoulders. He would need to move on soon. Perhaps somewhere south, somewhere warmer. The cold had done wonders to shake off those trailing him, but surely they'd given him up for dead by now.

"Ignore Oor. He is bored. When he is bored, he is destructive." Volker told him.

[SanctifiedSavage]

Shura continued to watch the shadow as it... spoke? He had no idea, but he didn't really question it either. Instead, he was processing what he had... said. Not how, because tone didn't always matter either. Instead, Shura eventually glanced at Reinhard and frowned a little. He didn't want to be thought of as a baby. He wasn't one. Hadn't been a child for a very long time.

Granted, he didn't know the exact time on that either because, well, time was odd to Shura. But still. It irked him to be thought of as a babe.

He shifted a little to better face Reinhard and put one hand on Reinhard's upper leg to keep himself propped up. "Do you think of me like that?"

[Volker]

Volker looked at him briefly and then back at the fire. "You do not know how to take care of yourself. You would have frozen or done something to survive the night that you needn't have done. You did not know how to cook. You curled up next to me like a child would have done." he said simply. "You break your toys like a child." he nodded outside to the bodies that waited. It was a roundabout way of saying yes. He did think of Shura like a child. Shura seemed so innocent and so young it was hard not to. "I will teach you how to live. You are surviving, but you are not living."

He put his forehead against Shura's in a rather chaste, affectionate gesture, and looked back into the fire. Oor paced boredly. The spirit tended to flicker in and out of existence. Here pacing around the fire, there messing things up in the kitchen to irritate Rheinhard or exploring the house. The sounds were very similar to an irritated cat let loose in a house. Too many things to get into.

[SanctifiedSavage]

Shura made a face. "I know how to take care of myself, I just don't know how to cook." He sounded indignant because he was. Having grown up alone and frequently an outcast for very obvious reasons, he'd never had anyone teach him or ever had the opportunity to learn. Then, he added, "I also don't make it a habit of crawling into bed with strangers – since they're not usually alive when I'm around. I was trying to give you space."

Shura pushed away from him and swatted at something that buzzed angrily near his ear. Those things broken were not his toys. He did not play with them. What he did was a need, or frequently, not something he could control at all. But to hear it so blatantly stated to his face was both upsetting and, well, hurtful. Shura had spent so much time alone and to have someone be so crass about what he did with that time bothered him.

He felt like he was doing just fine. He had clothes. He had yet to starve, even if he didn't know how to cook, and he didn't consider any of what he'd done wrong. Messy, sure. But certainly not wrong. Instead, Shura murmured, "I'll find my own dinner," and stalked out of the cabin he'd been staying in since Reinhard had arrived. He didn't want to be around someone who thought of him as helpless.

They weren't helpless. And he'd go find his own damn dinner.

[Volker]

Volker watched Shura stomp off. That happened painfully often with him. Volker didn't know how to tell white lies, or sugar coat something. He spoke plainly and he spoke honestly...to a fault. Much like Shura had no idea how to do basic domestic things Volker took for granted, Volker had no idea how to converse properly. When asked, he told the truth and nothing else. When someone stomped off, he didn't follow them or feel a need to make amends. What he did know was that he had the only working fire, and the only bed, and that Shura would return when he needed both of those things.

Volker got up and headed outside to start gathering up the bodies that Shura had butchered. He watched the other man briefly, making sure that he wasn't going to freeze to death. Men often did things like that to prove a point. He eventually approached him and looked at him. "You took offense to my words. I am sorry. I dont know you, and I misjudged." he told him. That was...all he could think of to say. "Come back when you get cold."

Oor chuckled at Shura. Cute. Just go back inside so you don't freeze. Youre going to be a fun one. He grinned at him.

[SanctifiedSavage]

Shura fully intended on not returning. He'd slept many nights – our entire lives – without a companion, a stranger and he could do so now. He'd made a fire, he could do so again. He'd slept without a bed before, and he could now.

He didn't need anyone else. They didn't. He'd been alone for so long that... Well. Company didn't matter. The shadow, the stranger, all of it was just different and new and didn't matter. The stubborn anger fueled him, carried Shura through his butchery of another house. Tearing apart furniture with blood-craft claws to turn into kindling and hauling his own supply of wood with blood-craft tentacles. Setting up a new camp.

Away. Away from him.

It was petty and it was obnoxious, but he was upset. Not even what Reinhard had to say mollified him. If anything, it just incensed Shura. Come back when you get cold. When, when, when, when. It played over and over for Shura until he was certain the sound of it was going to drive him mad.

We won't be cold. Not cold at all.

By the time he had his own fire started, he had used up a bit of his own energy and blood to do it. His hands were faintly blue but bloodstained from his own blood. He sat in front of the fire, a blanket he'd found wrapped around him, and stubbornly remained until he eventually slumped over and dozed off. He was cold, and the fire would eventually dwindle. If, or when, that happened, he'd rouse again and start it up once more.

But he wasn't going to go back and he wasn't going to sleep with Reinhard again.

[Volker]

Volker found him like that. Bundled up in the snow with a big fire cooling off in front of him. Shura had wasted a lot of fuel burning up the place like that. It really didn't help Volker's current image of Shura as a child. Parsing out his resources and not exhausting his magic with a big showy display like that would have been much better. Volker had been slightly more productive with his time. He'd brought in more wood from other houses to keep the fire going, melted bucketfuls of snow to take a bath, and drawn another for Shura. It would be waiting for him when he woke. He'd devised an ingenous little system to keep the bathwater warm; he'd furrowed under the clawfoot tub and built up hot coals, layering them over with cloth that smouldered. It kept warm, and kept the bathwater warm as long as he kept adding live coals.

He bundled up Shura in a fresh blanket and brought him back to bed. His hands and feet were blue. Volker frowned and curled up in bed with him, taking Shura's hands and gently rubbing them in his own to encourage blood to flow back into them. He entangled his feet with Shura's to warm them as well, pulling the blankets up over them to warm Shura's face.

Very independent. He wasted an entire house worth of wood in that temper tantrum. Oor observed with a smirk. Fiery little thing. I like him. Why don't you keep him around a little while longer? You've always been good with the fiesty ones.

Volker sighed and leaned forward. He licked the blood away from Shura's face. He couldn't get him into the bath, but this was about as effective at getting dry, itchy blood off of skin. He licked warmth and cleanliness back into Shura's cheeks.

[SanctifiedSavage]

Shura's brief sleep was deep, but not entirely restful. He recovered some of the spent energy while he was bundled up in the bed and made contented sounds as he was warmed. What did rouse him, however, was the feel of something... on... his face.

It was odd. Different. That seemed to be the theme of the..day? Evening? However long since he'd met this person. Reinhard.

He blearily came to when most of his face had been cleaned, peering at Reinhard with narrow, faintly luminous red eyes. "Wha..." he got out before his brain was able to process where he was. Where he didn't want to be. Shura sure as shit knew he hadn't brought himself back here.

But rather than be upset by it, he was calmed somewhat by the fact that Reinhard had obviously wanted him near. Especially since he was licking Shura's face. Having warmth back in his extremities and not feeling so rough from using his own blood, Shura murmured, "I can take care of myself. I've been doing it before you came around." It was a little defensive, but not the same stubborn, heated words of before.

Not wanting to carry on the fight, though, Shura shifted on his side and pressed closer to Reinhard. He didn't want to tell him he didn't want to fight, or that he was right about some things. Some were obvious. Shura didn't know how to cook and things were certainly warmer with Reinhard... Didn't mean he wanted to say them.  Pressing himself against Reinhard so his face could be buried, he hoped that the conversation would end there.

[Volker]

Volker continued cleaning Shura. He cleaned the blood out of his ears, dipping his tongue in the creases to get the sticky bits out, and under his chin, along his neck. His tongue was warm and comforting. He put his arms around Shura and pulled him close, sighing deeply. Shura buried his face in his chest, and Volker took that as a cue to stop. He put his head atop Shura's and let him rest there. "There is a bath drawn." he said. "It should stay warm for a few hours yet. I put coals underneath the tub."

He had to admit, though Shura acted a little like a child he wasn't built like one. Shura hadn't shown any interest in him that way, however, and Volker was determined to keep that off the table until Shura presented it as an option. He was content with the cuddle for now. Most would refuse that much. "It will help to get the blood out of places you are not willing to let me clean." he said. He leaned his head down and licked a spatter off of Shura's shoulder that was irritating him.

[SanctifiedSavage]

Apparently, Shura was going to be subject to Reinhard's... method of cleaning.  He squirmed, made odd noises, and definitely shivered when Reinhard's tongue found his ear.

Shura remained against him, considering. A bath... That sounded good. But he wasn't particularly interested in leaving now. Rather, his now warm hands slid up Reinhard's side, along his skin, and he peered up at him. Soft and sweet and definitely sly. "You make it sound like there's somewhere I'm not willing to let you put your mouth."

He started it. Didn't really matter the reason. If the intention had only been to clean Shura, then... using Reinhard's mouth on him was hardly the best way to go about it. Instead, he was far more interested in having it other places and the bath... well, that could come later. Much later. Unless that was just another step in getting Shura out of all his clothes. In which case... The bath could be now.

It didn't bother Shura that he had dried blood on him. He barely noticed. But if it meant that Reinhard was going to pay particular attention to him, like that, Shura was probably going to end up messy around him often.

[Volker]

Volker looked at Shura. The subtle shift in body language from his attentions. He hadn't intended for them to be interpreted that way; it was just an easy way of cleaning someone who was going to squirm and try to flee from a bath. The way Shura touched him was definitely inviting...but he wasn't going to go further with someone who stank of fetid blood. He licked under Shura's chin and pulled his shirt over his head. Even though Shura had been clothed at the start of his rampage, he'd gotten blood soaked through the cloth and smeared all over himself. Volker licked at his collarbone, using his teeth to gently scrape away some of the more stubborn mess. He was thorough. Infinitely thorough. He lapped blood up from Shura's nipples and along his chest, long sweeping strokes.

He sighed in contentment. He liked cleaning like this. It was affectionate and his type of methodical cleaning that helped him turn his brain off. He licked down, along Shura's stomach and over his hips.

[SanctifiedSavage]

Leave it to Reinhard to want to take care of him, even now. Shura chuckled softly but didn't protest. If this was what he wanted to do to Shura, he was complacent. Shifting onto his back to make it easier, his own cool fingertips tracing nonsensical patterns along Reinhard's side.

There was still the rumble of whimpers and the hiss of conversation he couldn't quite make out, but his attention was presently being dominated by the one who thought it prudent to tend to Shura with his mouth.

Not that he was complaining, at all. Sighing sweetly and watching Reinhard. Squirming when teeth or tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot. When Reinhard was low enough, at his hips, one of Shura's hands slid up over his shoulder while the other adjusted the blankets. Keeping them both warm while not smothering Reinhard. Besides, he wanted to see. To watch. Shura wasn't sure if he'd eventually be banished to the bath, to clean up, or if that would be after.

He wasn't the picky one. Reinhard was.

[Volker]

Volker came up and pressed his lips to Shura's. He saw the way Shura shifted to lay onto his back, that look he was giving him. Might as well make his desires known. He settled his weight onto his elbows, laying comfortably against Shura. He deepened the kiss, one of his hands tangling in Shura's white hair. He only broke their contact to kiss along the side of Shura's neck, applying gentle pressure with his teeth. He pressed his arousal against Shura's thigh. A purr rumbled in his throat, a soft and happy growl.

Volker lifted his head up and kissed Shura. He was afraid to speak, worried it would break the mood. He needed some sign of reciprocation. He knew Shura would allow it, but did he want it? That was another question entirely. He brushed Shura's hair out of his face, the question in his eyes but unspoken.

[SanctifiedSavage]

Shura hummed sweetly when Reinhard slid up and actually kissed him. A warm contact, one he didn't share often – when had been the last time? Shura couldn't even remember, his mind being a fickle thing as it were. Even so, he liked it. The singing of Reinhard's body close to his, the heat between them that chased the chill away.

Shura supposed he could forgive him, then.

Cool hands slid to Reinhard's back when he deepened the kiss, tasting the remnants of old blood. Which hardly bothered the blood mage. If anything, it spiked his interest. Wanting to savor that mingled taste, of something so familiar and not.

Another soft, breathy sigh escaped him when Reinhard's attention turned to his neck. Getting to feel how excited he was though, that he wanted him, made Shura squirm under him. A thrill chased up his spine. It wasn't often he was wanted, after all, and it was a rush.

How unfortunate there were still pants in the way. Even so, Shura hooked one of his legs around his hips so that Reinhard would, likewise, feel the echo of Shura's own hard want. Yes, he was quite interested. Yes, he was quite thrilled to be beneath him.

At the second kiss, Shura lightly nipped at his lower lip then murmured, "It'd be really sweet of you to help me out of the rest of my clothes." It was definitely going to be cold, but that was a price Shura was eager to pay. Even now, with so little having happened, Shura was a little breathy. Excited. His red eyes bright and quite clear.

[Volker]

Volker trailed kisses down Shura's neck, his tongue darting out to work over spots he had missed or didn't deem clean enough. He could feel the younger man hook a leg around him and press against him. That was all the reassurance he needed that yes, Shura wanted him as well. Even so, it would get in the way. Volker quietly ducked his head down to Shura's belly again, his lips finding the clasp to Shura's trousers. He used his teeth to undo them and pushed them down, shoving them away into some deep recess of the bed.

He picked up where he had left off in his cleaning. He licked the delicate skin along Shura's inner hip, his tongue wandering close, but never where Shura wanted it. The bath came first, in his mind. He slowly spread Shura's legs to lick along his thighs. Enough teasing. He took Shura's arousal in his hand and licked up the underside of his member, closing his eyes. He wanted to savor this. It had been too long. He closed his lips around it, his tongue exploring the velvety, heated flesh in his mouth.