[The remaining days of Sanguis had left Sycamore far less calm than he wanted to be, despite all of his attempts to remind himself that Lysandre was fine and coping far better than expected (or, perhaps, exactly as well as expected - with his usual steely determination). Their single interaction had left him....twitchy, for want of a better word, and the worst part was that it was more his own actions that had left him feeling that way, versus those of his friend.
He had every intention of keeping his promise to allow him to visit once Iris commenced, but the more he thought about it, the queasier it made him feel. So it was both a frustration and a relief to see the moon turn blue - Sanguis was over, yes, but Iris was all the more closer.
Well. Regardless of his feelings on the moons and their positions in the sky, Sycamore is quick to send a message as soon as he's confident that Cordis has arrived. He'd been able to resist the temptation to contact Lysandre for the rest of his moonblessing period, but...surely now would be fine?]
It was as I thought it would be, in that the scales continued spreading far beyond a few isolated areas. It wasn't horrid, but it was inconvenient. They were fish scales, from what I understand. It was more bearable if they were kept wet.
The fire didn't get any stronger, which I suppose is a small mercy. The agitation continued to be unfortunate, but it was manageable.
[In the end, Sycamore's prediction that he would develop rabbit ears during his moon-blessing came true, just not in the way he anticipated; on the night that Sanguis and Cordis joined Iris in the night sky, the tentacles (and other fun physical changes) that had haunted him for five days slowly disappeared, to be replaced with the small pair of ears he recognised from the month before. The heat was still present, as were the other aggravating bits of emotional manipulation that Iris was (in)famous for, but the scale had clearly shifted.
That was one positive to be gained from the whole experience, at least. Should he end up bothered by his blessing, he could compare it to his experiences with the exalted form and know that things could be far worse. He hadn't really begun to process everything that happened, in particular the sexual encounters. Everything felt like a purple-tinged blur.
There was one exception to that rule, however. His conversation with Lysandre had been playing over and over in his head, every sentence picked apart and assessed for reactions, meanings, underlying sentiments. It felt like being back in the grips of exalted iris, obsessing over every word spoken between them, as Sycamore did his best to try and plan what it was he was going to say when Lysandre joined him in the Groves.
'It's your decision, in the end.'.
He'd made the decision, sent the message earlier to let him know that he was heading to their favourite goat pen, should he be free and interested in talking. That was the easy part, and perhaps executed prematurely; he'd been sitting here for an hour now (the message sent long after he'd arrived), covered in sleeping kids (because that was apparently the term used for the baby goats - the farmer didn't know why) and no closer to an answer than he was when he'd first sat down. It made him sigh. Lysandre would be arriving any second and not having a concrete plan of action made him all the more nervous.
But he'd made the decision to talk, and so they would. He just hoped he could get through this one without embarrassing himself too much.]
[Sanguis' return had been a little easier to manage this time around; he still felt...off, in a lot of ways, but what he'd discovered last time continued to hold true the second time around - the fury burns cold, and he doesn't trust himself to be around people, and so he keeps to the apartment and he paces a little too much and the scales are present again and they're uncomfortable but they're bearable.
He doesn't revisit the conversation from the other day because he doesn't trust himself to, some part of him knows better than to try to focus on anything that happened there because the results won't ever be to his liking, and so he's grateful that the message only comes well after he's regained clarity.
It's hot out, as it has been for the better part of the month, and he's foregoing the usual leather for something that's far more breathable - still in the same colors, just not arrayed in quite the same manner, the suit is dark and the tie and shirt beneath it the usual vibrant shade of red, and it's expensive but something he's unattached to if the goats decide they like it.
Either way, he arrives easily, and he does so casually, and he seems like he's thinking but willing to see where this goes.]
[Despite the nerves, Sycamore can't deny that he's delighted to see Lysandre. He's always been delighted to see him in general, of course, but after everything that's happened...well. Every chance he gets to see his friend arriving to meet with him is another memory to cherish.
The new (obviously expensive) suit is noted, and approved of (if the way his breath caught momentarily is any indication), although Sycamore's smile widens at the fact that this is what Lysandre deems appropriate to wear around small animals. He's stuck to the usual dark jeans, paired with a shimmery blue shirt - although he's done his best to play against type and try for something a least a little subtle in terms of sheen.
(still wearing the yellow belt and red socks, of course.)]
[Good morning mon ami! Hopefully you don't mind getting a rather perky message on your Holocaster, this fine day.]
Bonjour ♥
[Is the heart too much, too soon? But it's cute...hmmm. He'll leave it for now.]
Can I come over, this morning? I have a treat for you. I know you're going to ask why I'm asking, so - we're in Sanguis, now, so I just wanted to check. Whatever you would like, Lysandre.
[He'll...reread that a couple of times, but all seems okay...time to send! God, it's been a while since he's been in a relationship, particularly one of this...
I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to. I'll be there shortly.
[No sense prolonging the conversation over text, when they could be talking in person, so! It takes slightly longer than usual, for Sycamore to arrive (now why could that be...), but once he does and Lysandre opens the door, he'll find...]
I do owe you.
[...Sycamore leaning against the door-frame, bearing gifts; a cardboard holder containing two takeaway coffees (from their favourite café, of course), with a small paper bag hanging from the crook of his elbow.
[Judging by the rather early time Sycamore had given Lysandre for his arrival, he was clearly planning to make use of every second the Cordis moon was willing to stay in the sky. So after a fairly brief text that covered said arrival time and an emphatic insistence that he didn't eat breakfast until he arrived, Sycamore appeared exactly on time (by his watch, which was also his Holocaster, designed and built by Lysandre so of COURSE it was accurate), leaning casually against the door frame wearing a blue shirt almost as bright as his smile.]
Bonjour.
[Cordis was, he had decided, definitely the best moon. Why not dress to pay tribute to it?]
May I come in, monsieur? The bags are coming too, before you try to bicker with me.
I definitely heard you say something along those lines.
[Heard doesn't equate to actually listening, but let's not get into that just yet! He'll place those bags down by the door; one of them clearly has clothes and some other necessities (including four Pokéballs!), but the two others look to be full of...ingredients? How mysterious....]
Now, why should we wait? There are five full days before Iris appears and I intend to make use of all of them.
[Instead of meeting within the Groves, Sycamore suggested the pair of them walk to it together; he's got a distinct feeling that Lysandre mainly agreed to ensure he didn't turn up with pre-purchased coffee (which...he may or may not have been planning to do, but that isn't the point...), but either way, they get there in good time.
Sycamore quickly checks that all four of his Pokéballs are on his belt (they, of course, are) as he opens the gate to the enclosure.]
You know, I really do think Charizard would like the goats! It's a shame the keeper thinks that means 'for dinner'.
[Honestly. Charizard would never! But he would like to continue having access to the kids, so it's not worth the debate...]
[That may have been part of the reason, admittedly... That isn't to say that he wouldn't have wanted to anyway, but cutting the coffee off at the pass is definitely part of the logic there, yes.
That said, he's nicely dressed again, though it's in a way that the goats can have if they really want to; granted, that...isn't really saying much, admittedly.]
Unfortunate, isn't it? Pyroar still hasn't gotten a good look at them. However, he'll just have to deal with the fact that I enjoy having access to the Groves to begin with...
Agreed! Besides, at least there are plenty of other areas we can take them. I'd rather not frighten the dear little things. They're so skittish!
[At least it's cute, though, and they're clearly comfortable with the two of them (although judging by all the visits they've made, Sycamore would be surprised if they weren't, at this point). He's chosen to...well, not dress in quite as nice a manner as Lysandre (if he even could, without assistance...), choosing his usual pair of black jeans and a light blue shirt.
(Yellow belt and red socks included, of course).]
You know, you're the only person I can think of who would dress so nicely to sit with baby creatures in the grass, mon cheri.
[Not that he's complaining, however. You really can wear a suit.]
[The start of Sanguis always made Sycamore nervous, but this month had been even worse; the lingering moonblessing effects of the recent invasion had been doing his head in (spontaneous Iris transformations outside its allotted time - awful!), and the lack of contact from Lysandre so far hadn't done much to ease his mind. He didn't have a visual reference, but from Lysandre's descriptions it seemed like the transformations had intensified last month, versus what he had received in his first month. If the trend continued...well. It made him feel justified in his concern around the lack of contact.
He'll start with a message. Better to dip his toe, rather than appear on Lysandre's doorstep unannounced and thoroughly unwelcome.]
[Oh....that doesn't bode well, does it. Despite himself, Sycamore immediately stands, as if to walk out his door and off to Lysandre's apartment. At least pacing gives him something to do, some way to burn off the nervous energy triggered by that message.]
[Sycamore had never thought much of Sanguis before Lysandre arrived; the red moon had no effect on him, and really just signified that Iris was approaching. Now, however, he found its arrival brought with it a deep sense of worry. He had been well aware of the fact that Lysandre's transformations were intensifying with each cycle, so it really shouldn't have been a surprise that he went Exalted so quickly. Originally, Sycamore had been anticipating his Exalted transformation, mainly because all the other Sanguis he'd spoken to seemed to think quite highly of it. That it was preferable, to the standard Sanguis transformation. More refined. Controlled.
Well. None of them had taken on the form of their world's god of death, he was fairly sure, which likely influenced their opinions somewhat. He'd barely managed to get a look at Lysandre in his fully transformed state, when he visited; his partner had taken one look at him and quickly driven him away, blue eyes blazing with a fury Sycamore hadn't seen in a very long time. Not since well before he'd arrived here, anyway. It reminded him of the incident in Lysandre's cafe, right before things really went downhill.
It had been terrifying, frankly. This time, Sycamore had respected Lysandre's wishes - it was hard to miss them, considering he'd yelled them at him as he slammed his apartment door shut - and left him alone for the remaining days of the Sanguis cycle. Cordis could not come soon enough, as far as Sycamore was concerned.
The moment the blue moon appeared - literally the moment, considering Sycamore had been watching out the window for it - he opens the chat function of his Holocaster.]
I should wait a few minutes...
[They're agonizing minutes, but Sycamore makes it to four - four whole minutes! - until he sends a message.]
Is it gone?
[He winces after that message is sent; the fact that his first post-Sanguis contact feels so inelegant, after he spent the remainder of the cycle fretting over exactly how he'd start the Cordis conversation, is frustrating. Perhaps unsurprising, but still...frustrating. He's quick to send another.]
[It takes a moment for there to be any sort of response; eventually it does come, however, even if it seems a bit awkward at the start.
He isn't sure what he's feeling just yet, the effects of Sanguis are still lifting; just the same, he doesn't particularly want to make Sycamore wait. The more rational part of his mind knows that doing so will just cause concern; the more irrational part...well, it's still that, just far less charitably-worded.]
[It's a quiet evening, one of the rare ones Sycamore is spending without Lysandre; sometimes it can be nice to be alone with his thoughts, but more often than not, these days, he misses him. Lysandre has always been a man of incredible presence, both in stature and demeanour, which makes his absence all the more tangible. When Sycamore ponders it, it makes him smile, albeit in a self-deprecating manner; who would have thought he, of all people, would pine after someone like this?
So even though they'd agreed that tonight would be one they would each spend alone, Sycamore can't resist sending a text.]
I miss you.
[A pause, and then-]
How are you feeling about tomorrow, mon cheri?
[There's no need for him to specify exactly what tomorrow is; they both know. With any luck - and they might need a bit, at this rate - it won't be a repeat of the last time Sanguis started the new month.]
[Here's hoping it isn't a repeat of that; the one decent thing about the whole situation last time is that he finds it hard to conceive of ways that could conceivably get much worse. Kind of a sad silver lining, but sometimes one takes what they can get.]
I'm not particularly optimistic, but I imagine that isn't particularly new. You know I like to prepare for things being less than ideal.
[So it goes, really.]
I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you as well, however.
I know how you feel; my first cycle after I went Exalted was nerve-wracking. But it worked out well for me, no? I think you'll end up with something cute, too.
[That makes Sycamore chuckle; the mental image! Sanguis can sometime get 'dog' ears....Lysandre with dog ears....cute....or perhaps more beautiful scales? Provided they don't dare go near his face, of course.]
Regardless, you know I'll be here. Whatever happens.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text; 1st day of Cordis
He had every intention of keeping his promise to allow him to visit once Iris commenced, but the more he thought about it, the queasier it made him feel. So it was both a frustration and a relief to see the moon turn blue - Sanguis was over, yes, but Iris was all the more closer.
Well. Regardless of his feelings on the moons and their positions in the sky, Sycamore is quick to send a message as soon as he's confident that Cordis has arrived. He'd been able to resist the temptation to contact Lysandre for the rest of his moonblessing period, but...surely now would be fine?]
Make it through okay?
[That should do it; casual, not probing.]
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As though there was any doubt that I would...?
I'm fine. It wasn't as horrid as it could have been, at any rate.
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[Hopefully you can hear the playful tone in that sentence - he'll spare you the tildes.
...for now.]
Nothing more than just the scales and spontaneous Ember attacks, then?
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The fire didn't get any stronger, which I suppose is a small mercy. The agitation continued to be unfortunate, but it was manageable.
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action -> greatmoon groves, after the triple moon
That was one positive to be gained from the whole experience, at least. Should he end up bothered by his blessing, he could compare it to his experiences with the exalted form and know that things could be far worse. He hadn't really begun to process everything that happened, in particular the sexual encounters. Everything felt like a purple-tinged blur.
There was one exception to that rule, however. His conversation with Lysandre had been playing over and over in his head, every sentence picked apart and assessed for reactions, meanings, underlying sentiments. It felt like being back in the grips of exalted iris, obsessing over every word spoken between them, as Sycamore did his best to try and plan what it was he was going to say when Lysandre joined him in the Groves.
'It's your decision, in the end.'.
He'd made the decision, sent the message earlier to let him know that he was heading to their favourite goat pen, should he be free and interested in talking. That was the easy part, and perhaps executed prematurely; he'd been sitting here for an hour now (the message sent long after he'd arrived), covered in sleeping kids (because that was apparently the term used for the baby goats - the farmer didn't know why) and no closer to an answer than he was when he'd first sat down. It made him sigh. Lysandre would be arriving any second and not having a concrete plan of action made him all the more nervous.
But he'd made the decision to talk, and so they would. He just hoped he could get through this one without embarrassing himself too much.]
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He doesn't revisit the conversation from the other day because he doesn't trust himself to, some part of him knows better than to try to focus on anything that happened there because the results won't ever be to his liking, and so he's grateful that the message only comes well after he's regained clarity.
It's hot out, as it has been for the better part of the month, and he's foregoing the usual leather for something that's far more breathable - still in the same colors, just not arrayed in quite the same manner, the suit is dark and the tie and shirt beneath it the usual vibrant shade of red, and it's expensive but something he's unattached to if the goats decide they like it.
Either way, he arrives easily, and he does so casually, and he seems like he's thinking but willing to see where this goes.]
I see you've been making friends.
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The new (obviously expensive) suit is noted, and approved of (if the way his breath caught momentarily is any indication), although Sycamore's smile widens at the fact that this is what Lysandre deems appropriate to wear around small animals. He's stuck to the usual dark jeans, paired with a shimmery blue shirt - although he's done his best to play against type and try for something a least a little subtle in terms of sheen.
(still wearing the yellow belt and red socks, of course.)]
I've always been good with kids.
[...]
...the baby ones are called kids.
[...do you get it
do you get the Joke mon ami
what if he waggles his eyebrows at you]
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text
Bonjour ♥
[Is the heart too much, too soon? But it's cute...hmmm. He'll leave it for now.]
Can I come over, this morning? I have a treat for you. I know you're going to ask why I'm asking, so - we're in Sanguis, now, so I just wanted to check. Whatever you would like, Lysandre.
[He'll...reread that a couple of times, but all seems okay...time to send! God, it's been a while since he's been in a relationship, particularly one of this...
....well. You know.]
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I don't see why not. I'm feeling fairly all right, at least, and nothing particularly hideous seems to be happening at the moment.
Although you didn't have to get me anything, if that's what you've done.
text -> action
I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to. I'll be there shortly.
[No sense prolonging the conversation over text, when they could be talking in person, so! It takes slightly longer than usual, for Sycamore to arrive (now why could that be...), but once he does and Lysandre opens the door, he'll find...]
I do owe you.
[...Sycamore leaning against the door-frame, bearing gifts; a cardboard holder containing two takeaway coffees (from their favourite café, of course), with a small paper bag hanging from the crook of his elbow.
Bonjour, you.]
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action -> August Cordis moon
Bonjour.
[Cordis was, he had decided, definitely the best moon. Why not dress to pay tribute to it?]
May I come in, monsieur? The bags are coming too, before you try to bicker with me.
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[And you will absolutely catch hell if you have. But that said, yes, come in if you're going to.]
It's early; not interested in wasting time, I take it.
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[Heard doesn't equate to actually listening, but let's not get into that just yet! He'll place those bags down by the door; one of them clearly has clothes and some other necessities (including four Pokéballs!), but the two others look to be full of...ingredients? How mysterious....]
Now, why should we wait? There are five full days before Iris appears and I intend to make use of all of them.
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action -> greatmoon groves, after the triple moon
Sycamore quickly checks that all four of his Pokéballs are on his belt (they, of course, are) as he opens the gate to the enclosure.]
You know, I really do think Charizard would like the goats! It's a shame the keeper thinks that means 'for dinner'.
[Honestly. Charizard would never! But he would like to continue having access to the kids, so it's not worth the debate...]
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That said, he's nicely dressed again, though it's in a way that the goats can have if they really want to; granted, that...isn't really saying much, admittedly.]
Unfortunate, isn't it? Pyroar still hasn't gotten a good look at them. However, he'll just have to deal with the fact that I enjoy having access to the Groves to begin with...
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[At least it's cute, though, and they're clearly comfortable with the two of them (although judging by all the visits they've made, Sycamore would be surprised if they weren't, at this point). He's chosen to...well, not dress in quite as nice a manner as Lysandre (if he even could, without assistance...), choosing his usual pair of black jeans and a light blue shirt.
(Yellow belt and red socks included, of course).]
You know, you're the only person I can think of who would dress so nicely to sit with baby creatures in the grass, mon cheri.
[Not that he's complaining, however. You really can wear a suit.]
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action -> September Sanguis moon
He'll start with a message. Better to dip his toe, rather than appear on Lysandre's doorstep unannounced and thoroughly unwelcome.]
It's Sanguis, mon cheri - how is it treating you?
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It's treating me like it hates me, and the feeling is mutual.
I'm all right, no one has been harmed and nothing is on fire, for reference's sake.
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Are you all right? Is it more koi features?
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text -> beginning of Cordis
Well. None of them had taken on the form of their world's god of death, he was fairly sure, which likely influenced their opinions somewhat. He'd barely managed to get a look at Lysandre in his fully transformed state, when he visited; his partner had taken one look at him and quickly driven him away, blue eyes blazing with a fury Sycamore hadn't seen in a very long time. Not since well before he'd arrived here, anyway. It reminded him of the incident in Lysandre's cafe, right before things really went downhill.
It had been terrifying, frankly. This time, Sycamore had respected Lysandre's wishes - it was hard to miss them, considering he'd yelled them at him as he slammed his apartment door shut - and left him alone for the remaining days of the Sanguis cycle. Cordis could not come soon enough, as far as Sycamore was concerned.
The moment the blue moon appeared - literally the moment, considering Sycamore had been watching out the window for it - he opens the chat function of his Holocaster.]
I should wait a few minutes...
[They're agonizing minutes, but Sycamore makes it to four - four whole minutes! - until he sends a message.]
Is it gone?
[He winces after that message is sent; the fact that his first post-Sanguis contact feels so inelegant, after he spent the remainder of the cycle fretting over exactly how he'd start the Cordis conversation, is frustrating. Perhaps unsurprising, but still...frustrating. He's quick to send another.]
Are you okay, Lysandre?
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He isn't sure what he's feeling just yet, the effects of Sanguis are still lifting; just the same, he doesn't particularly want to make Sycamore wait. The more rational part of his mind knows that doing so will just cause concern; the more irrational part...well, it's still that, just far less charitably-worded.]
It is, yes. I'm doing well enough.
[He pauses, though, before sending another.]
You have my apologies, you know. For everything.
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[To his credit, Sycamore won't throw in his usual demands to come over; the temptation is there, but it feels...
...
...there's a reluctance present that bothers him.]
Are you hurt, at all?
[He doesn't just mean physically, of course.]
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2/2 text -> action
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text -> sanguis time
So even though they'd agreed that tonight would be one they would each spend alone, Sycamore can't resist sending a text.]
I miss you.
[A pause, and then-]
How are you feeling about tomorrow, mon cheri?
[There's no need for him to specify exactly what tomorrow is; they both know. With any luck - and they might need a bit, at this rate - it won't be a repeat of the last time Sanguis started the new month.]
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I'm not particularly optimistic, but I imagine that isn't particularly new. You know I like to prepare for things being less than ideal.
[So it goes, really.]
I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you as well, however.
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[That makes Sycamore chuckle; the mental image! Sanguis can sometime get 'dog' ears....Lysandre with dog ears....cute....or perhaps more beautiful scales? Provided they don't dare go near his face, of course.]
Regardless, you know I'll be here. Whatever happens.
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