AU Week: Daemonverse

[2goodarms]

Eighteen years of tight quarters led to some changes in basic biology. Everybody below the age of thirty settled as something small, compact, easy to keep close. People around Curtis’ age usually had something a little bigger: malleable enough to re-settle, just hardened enough not to venture too far from their original shape. A few people who were too old — too set in their ways, even after what the train did to them — ended up dying from the stress, unable to keep their outsize daemon from being touched so many times a day. Nobody had anything much bigger than a dog anymore.

And nobody’s daemon could ever get more than a foot or two away from them without feeling the strain of separation.

But, like Dejah’s fond of telling Curtis, he’s not on the train anymore. He remembers people whose links could extend almost the full width of a car. Joanna thinks it’s a shitty idea, but it’s just a test, he keeps reassuring her. It’s just another muscle to build up.

So, by the fire, Curtis hunches in an armchair with his eyes fixed on the honey badger next to his feet. Slowly, Joanna places one clawed foot in front of other other, inching forward against the pressure of their link.

They can do this. They’ve endured worse hurts.


[ooc: keeping it simple for AU week: daemons! Everything else about Curtis' background remains the same. Mun will be sporadic until about 10 PM ET, then around solidly until 11:30ish; post is open until I say it's not.]

Comments

[2goodarms]

Joanna barks out a loud hah! Curtis' own laugh is more subdued.

"If that's a suggestion for me to finally get a fucking razor -- "

[dejah_thoris]

"Mmm, I dunno," Dejah says, sitting back a bit to consider the beard. "It'd be nice to finally see your fucking face. All of it, not just those gorgeous baby blues."

[2goodarms]

"The beard's part of my face," he protests, good-naturedly. "And it's warm."

That's why he grew it in the first place. (Okay, that, and the aforementioned lack of razors. Using a knife to cut your hair is one thing; putting that knife so close to Curtis' own throat...well.)

[dejah_thoris]

"Aww, poor baby," Dejah coos, one hand stroking his cheek. "Lord knows you'd freeze to death here without it."

She glances down at Joanna and if she's watching, she'll give her a little wink.

[2goodarms]

Joanna chuffs another quiet laugh, rolling her eyes.

"If I got rid of the beard," he warns, "I'd have to wear the hat all the time instead."

Take your pick, Dejah.

[dejah_thoris]

"Or." She holds up a finger. "Or, here's a radical idea. You could grow your hair out. Yeah?" She's giving him a wide eyed, playful smile, nodding like, yeah c'mon, you know you want to.

[2goodarms]

"I did for a while," he says. "You know what happened?"

[dejah_thoris]

"You looked like you were twelve?"

[2goodarms]

"I have no idea what I looked like, but," and here he exchanges a meaningful look with Joanna, "Edgar almost yanked it all out."

Such is the peril of looking after a toddler while still trying to figure out how the fuck you'll cut your hair in the tail. That shit hurt.

[dejah_thoris]

"Oh that little shit," she says, her laughter rich and bright. "Well, if he lays a hand on your pretty head now, he'll have me to contend with, so..."

[2goodarms]

"Luckily, we think he grew out of it."

"We hope," interjects Joanna with another snicker.

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah runs her hands over his head again, using her nails just a little.

"It's your head. You do whatever makes you happy. But I confess, I'm more than a little curious what you'd look like without the beard."

[2goodarms]

Joanna hums deep in her throat, snuggling deeper into Curtis' lap.

"Maybe," he says. "We'll see. ...Can it grow back even if I'm dead?"

It's not like he's needed a haircut since he showed up here, and that has to have been months ago by this point.

[dejah_thoris]

"I dunno," she says, her voice distracted. She's enjoying the simple pleasure of touching him and seeing his daemon give away how much he's enjoying it right back.

"We can ask?"

[2goodarms]

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Somebody's gotta know."

A beat.

With a tiny grin, "Or I could shave my head first and see if that grows back."

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah's fascinated with the way his scruff feels under her fingertips, but she's still paying attention. Her face splits in a huge grin.

"You could. But then I couldn't do this..." She lightly drags her nails down the nape of his neck.

[2goodarms]

He pulls in an audible breath as Joanna shivers.

"Well, you could if you wanted," he manages after a beat. "Nobody's stopping you."

[dejah_thoris]

"Better you just ask the bar. Just in case." She leans in close and gently nips his ear lobe.

[2goodarms]

Yeah, he can't quite stifle a groan, nor a whispered Dejah right before he turns to kiss her. It's hungrier than before; his hand slides from her shoulder to cradle the back of her neck.

(Joanna, meanwhile, is just gonna stay right here and bask in the feelings rushing through them. At this point, a battered old hat definitely isn't good enough.)

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah groans into the kiss, matching him measure for measure. Every time he touches her, it feels like fire in her blood. Like that sweet pure moment when you first touch brush to canvas. She loses herself in his kiss for as long as he'll let her. Right now, there's no other place in the whole wide multiverse she'd rather be.

[2goodarms]

Curtis has told her before that he doesn't feel safe anywhere. That it's not her fault, or anything she is (or isn't) doing; it's just the way things are.

Sometimes he gets close, though. He forgets, like he's forgotten so many other things -- but he forgets for an instant that he has to be afraid.

His eyes are closed, and now Joanna lets hers drift shut, too. There's no need to be watchful. There's just this, a perfectly contained moment, and a peace long absent from his life.