[closed] Nothing's what it seems to be, I'm a replica, I'm a replica.

[amberdrake]

Who: Amberdrake, Genjo Sanzo
What: Stuff and things.
Where: Drake and Sanzo's current place in Ludmead.
When: Today.
Notes: --
Warnings: --

Braving the trains and then giving massage all day every day one right after the next like he's some kind of massage factory is taking its toll on Drake. He hasn't been sleeping well, despite his excellent company at night, and his reaction time has slowed down juuuust a hair.

Just enough for him to be home during the late afternoon, for once, sitting at the tiny dining table with his head in his hand and an ice pack held against his eye.

Comments

[sanzo]

"..."

What is it, then? is writ large all over Sanzo's face.

[amberdrake]

"I'd rather it be something that can't be so easily pulled off me or damaged," Amberdrake says, "I... it's a weird idea, I know. But if you drew something on me, or wrote, or whatever you want, we could have it made permanent."

Why yes, he is totally suggesting a tattoo.

[sanzo]

Sanzo blinks up at him. A tattoo? Drake l... likes him so much that he wants to be inked? Permanently?

"...I see."

He's not saying 'no', he's just taken aback. "Is... that normal on your world?"

It'd be just another way in which Drake would be like the rest of his companions, though the marks on their skin are from their youkai heritage.

[amberdrake]

"Not at all," Amberdrake, for once, is the one to slant his gaze away. "It's not an unheard of idea, putting ink under the skin, although rather rare. And this would be considered unconventional, even then."

But how else can it be something more permanent than a piece of jewelry? And harder to be stolen?

This is Drake, too, who has always been unhappy with the idea of being marked -- physically -- by anything, ever since that bullwhip had nearly killed him at fifteen. But he wants this tattoo.

[sanzo]

Sanzo is quiet for a little while. And then, finally--

"Aaa. I'll do it. Do you know what you want?"

[amberdrake]

"I want to leave that up to you," Amberdrake decides to push his luck a little, and reaches to touch Sanzo's cheek again like he did earlier.

"I've been thinking, maybe inner forearm? I'd like it to be somewhere I can easily see it." Which rules out, say, his back. Or even shoulder, if one takes the 'easily' part into account.

[sanzo]

Sanzo doesn't pull away. He's calmer now, despite the weight on him and the hand touching him; while he might always have the impulse to free, he's not on the edge of it like he was only a short while ago.

He does want a smoke more than ever, though.

"I'll think about it, then."

[amberdrake]

Drake lowers his hand soon enough, though only to find Sanzo's free hand and take it, raising it to kiss the back of it. "Good," the kestra'chern is nervous, at the prospect of being marked like that, but he's quite honest about wishing for it, too.

It's not like it would be impossible for a sufficiently psychotic person to take from him; Hadanalith had certainly been eager to bring out the skinning knives... but it wouldn't be anywhere near as fast and easy and tempting for most people. And the ring really is starting to show its age.

Drake doesn't want to be permanently separated at all, of course. But having something of Sanzo like that... it may make it just a tiny fraction less horrible?

[sanzo]

Sanzo lets a pause spin itself out, as he lets Amberdrake's emotions wash over him, accepting them.

"...Off," he grunts after a time. "I need a smoke. You can show me how to fix your back."

The backs of his fingers brush against the kestra'chern's cheek, and then he's trying to rise.

[amberdrake]

Amberdrake just smiles at him and climbs off! "Let's wait on that for tomorrow," he suggests, going back to his tea cup, the ice pack still held to his eye and the surrounding bits of bruised face, "I don't think it would do my eye any favors."

He has a folding massage table, which is the best way for Sanzo to get the right leverage, but sticking his face against the padding... yeah, it can wait. "Not doing three more massages today and a half-dozen tomorrow alone will help somewhat."

Because yes, he meant it about taking a few days off. Nothing like bashing his face up to make him actually stay home for a while! Gesten or Skan would have called him a peacock and said he just doesn't want anyone seeing his plumage bent out of shape.

But in reality, it's as much because he doesn't want the questions as anything. And, yes, for someone who is usually not seen anything short of impeccable even by his own daughter, he just doesn't want to be seen like this in general.

Besides, it makes it harder to seem serene and calm and utterly unflappable when one's face is half purple.

[sanzo]

"...Get some rest, then." Sanzo, freed, digs out his Marlboros and lights up; his inhale and exhale are deeper than usual.

"I'll warm up some leftovers for us or something. And put some of the tea leaves on your eye, it'll help with the swelling."

Monk home remedies! But training to become a Sanzo comes with a lot of bumps, bruises, and -- yes -- black eyes!

[amberdrake]

"You are the expert on these," Amberdrake says it without any irony! He's been Sanzo's Healer for a few years, he knows the monk's skull and ribs better than he knows his own at this point. Black eyes, concussions, broken ribs... you know, mondays back on Haven.

"I bow to your judgement, although not literally," he adds while pulling some of the leaves out of the teapot, which has cooled enough to allow it, "Because that would hurt."

One bow to kiss and make up with the sutra was enough.