( open and closed starters )

[wrists]

WHO: laurent & friends (questionable).
WHERE: here and there in stygia.
WHEN: december.
WHAT: catch-all for monthly tidings. plotting comment is here.
WARNINGS: mentions of csa and the ongoing trauma surrounding it, bloody violence, angst and general unpleasant fuckery.

Comments

[coherer]

I'm with you RE: the survival part, so you're really preaching to the choir there, but love=/=whore. The bonds could be real. Like if two ppl hit it off or became buddies first, that's literally a bond that then becomes a soulmate-y thing, right??

What I don't want is somebody rooting around in my noggin and feeling all my feelings just bc I let them briefly fondle my dongles or tethers or whatever. That's an intimacy lvl ppl aren't gonna be prepared for so soon, so I wouldn't be surprised if it backfired hard for those who aren't super close before they pair up.

The whole thing is unnerving tbh.

(trepidation won't stop him from attempting to save his soul from oblivium, nor will naysayers—and he's open to labelling himself one. if he has to experience total ego death and be born again as someone good—someone better—then by god, he'll even force himself to read a fucking philosophy book.

"ascending for dummies," now available at the academy library in serene.)

P.S. "Please" and "thank you" really go a long way, but I am a strong independent man who don't need no basic human respect.

I'll be there in ~30 min. A guy showed me how to clean/gut a fish one single time, so if it looks like trash or you find a stray gizzard, then that's just the price of smth that's free ig. dwi. My kingdom for one marketable skill, am I right???

(hahahaha kill meeeee)

[wrists]

[ here's the part you're missing, you sweet summer child. love is a scam. laurent said it so it must be true. ]

do you know anyone who has forged the bond?

[ it's a scientific question. ]

thank you. i'll see you and your mediocre work in 30 minutes.

[coherer]

(huh. does he?)

Actually, I don't think I do. ig anyone could be and I wouldn't be able to tell, but I'm gonna go with "no."

(jonas makes good on his promise to laurent. there aren't many noteworthy features about him that would make him easy to spot by the harbour, but being a tall dumb-ass smoking a cigarette and holding a sloppy bag of fish may be considered a decent start. he looks lost despite having stood around in the area more times now than he can count.

his phone is addressed briefly to issue laurent a:)

In the area. I'm the guy in a beanie.

That's a hat.

(EAT YOUR HEART OUT)

[wrists]

[ laurent spies jonas immediately, because he looks like a sweet lost child holding a bag of foul-smelling goods. the whole harbor is foul-smelling, or perhaps it's just laurent's foul mood at having been roused from his hibernation to traipse around in the cold waiting on his foul-smelling goods. all for the cat he's taken in, and her freshly born kittens.

he's glad for the clarification that he is not looking for a man with beans on his head. ]

Are they clean? [ by way of greeting. laurent is dressed as he always is — severely, collar to boot covered in dark fabric with lace peeking from his cuffs and throat. it took him the entire thirty minutes to attempt to manage the complicated laces that close the sleeves and spine of his clothing, and now they're half undone, the laces trailing as he stands there with his arms crossed, assessing jonas like a criminal. his long blond hair glitters in the light, pulled hastily over one shoulder. not having anyone to attend to him has been... trying. as an afterthought — ] Hello.

[ and despite the spiny way he arranges himself, he stands gingerly, his face too pale, bandages wrapped tightly around one wrist, shadows etched beneath his crystalline blue eyes. at least the cold air is clearing his mind. ]