the other side of this mean twilight

[fidior]

Who: Edward Little / Konstantin Veshnyakov / YOU!
What: catchall for shenanigans — let's plot something or hit me with a wildcard, I'm easy!
When: August for now, possibly September
Where: various places: potentially Milton, Lakeside, Silverpoint

Comments

cw: Emeto Things involving blood

[sputnik]

[ It's no true surprise when he feels the pressure of contact against his back and hears the young lieutenant's voice, as steadfast as ever. There's no doubts that she would come to help him; he knows her character. And for some strange moment, there's almost a sort of joy in that realisation — yet another reminder of not being alone, of having a back-up, a companion. He knows Tayrey's not his co-pilot, but in a sense they occupy that role for one another, on this little journey. It's nice to have someone's back and to know in return they have yours, no questions asked.

But in the next beat comes a flash of horror through that realisation, as she's leaning in close, offering him support and care. A quick sweep of guilt flooding in, because letting himself rely on her like this is selfish, and Konstantin knows it, has known it from the moment he volunteered to accompany her out here. How many times has he assumed the thought he'd be fine, safe, and been proven wrong? How many times has this very world itself thrown a wrench right into any ounce of stability that he might have achieved, even with his alien passenger? This place can manipulate itself any second. It could even force the thing out of him.

....But the alternative is to hide away, to not do anything, to play it safe. And he's done that for a very long time, for too long since his arrival in Milton. He's tired of living that way; it's not him.

But is this the alternative? Not playing it safe, making these treks and trying to do some good, and putting other people in potential danger in the process? (Konstantin knows what the best thing to do is; after nearly two years in this place he's no stranger to the concept. He should have told Tayrey about his situation before he agreed to join her like this. Even now, he still keeps too many secrets. He should have told this entire community, but that could put him in danger, and— what's the best thing here? Who does he choose to protect? Himself, or everyone else around him?)

Selfishly, shamefully, he knows he's been afraid of the inevitable day that the young lieutenant finds out. Because there's always a risk he'll lose someone when they learn what's wrong with him, and he wants to keep her. He can't accept the concept of losing anyone else that his heart has become attached to.

Maybe this will pass soon. These spells can range from mild to intense; maybe he can push through this one. He shouldn't assume the absolute worst to begin with despite the unpleasant pounding of his heart, a mix of kneejerk fear through the adrenaline rush. He's nodding at Tayrey's words, turning into her guidance, offering a breathless attempt at a laugh as he reaches up with his other hand to give her shoulder a grateful pat. But even he can feel that the gesture's weak and shaky, hand trembling. ]

I'm so sorry about this, lieutenant. I might have been overdoing it lately. Feeling a little dizzy.

[ He starts moving back with her, embarrassed and ashamed to be seen like this, so weak, so pathetic, trying to shrug it off as though it's not a big deal. It's fine, it's fine, it's— suddenly he's stumbling as a flood of vertigo knocks him sideways. He feels himself tip into her without meaning to, tries to find his weight again and stand upright but his head's a dizzy whirlwind and his body feels so sick. Suddenly Konstantin's dry-heaving again, doubling over, one hand clamped to his mouth around a moan of pain.

He tries to pull away, to turn away from her, shaking in a fresh cold sweat. He can feel it coming — fast and abrupt, and then his hand's jerking away from his mouth as he vomits out onto the snow. What comes is red: blood from what he'd fed the creature before, what it hasn't yet digested. ]