singillatim | prelude

prelude

January 1st 2015

Do you remember yesterday? What is tomorrow?
How will you face this quiet apocalypse?
— Raphael van Lierop.

As the old year falls and the new year begins, the skies fill with light. An Aurora comes on the last day of December, and with it the usual signs of it: the ethereal noise, the cracks and pops in the air, the stuttering of electrics as they struggle to power on and then blare and flicker. It is, as Interlopers have come to know, business as usual — in terms of the Auroras within this world. However, something a little different happens this time.

Interlopers will fall asleep all over the town of Milton. Even the ones who fight sleep and try to stay up into the small hours of the night will find themselves drifting off for a short while — as if their eyes just feel too heavy to keep open, and their minds slip into a deep kind of quiet darkness without their realising. And at first, there is nothing — nothing but the quiet dark. Something peaceful, almost.

A dream comes.

The first thing you notice is blood in your mouth, the cold in your bones, the deafening din in your ears — as if you are caught in static and the sound of howling winds through pine trees. You are afraid. At first, you do not know why. You find yourself on your knees in the snow. The skies are filled with green light, the air is thick with smoke. And then the realisation comes:

This is the ending of all things.

You look up, to the sight before you: a huge, shapeless shadow. Towering above you, over you. A head peers down at you: a cluster of three wolf skulls, eye-sockets glowing green and terrible, and their three open maws, dripping with more green. The sound it makes is unnatural, you cannot put it into words. The darkness draws in, you are so cold, so tired.

This is the ending of all things.

It is so hungry. You are so tired. The world falls away, you cannot see the stars, the dark hiding them from view. Were they even there to begin with? Or did they go out? You have forgotten. And you know, you know—

This is the ending of all things.

The skies glimmer, licks of strange, colourful wisps curl above — a voice screams out your name, from the static and winds. Through the noise. A woman’s voice. You have heard this voice before, in the lights and noise. Do you see? What could be? What you could become?

Can you hold on? Please. A hand grips your shoulder, but as you turn — the dream ends.

For some, they snap into waking with a shout or cry. Some will shudder awake to find tears in their eyes. All over Milton, the Interlopers wake: shaken, unsure, afraid. They will awaken to the dark: the Aurora is gone — slowly fading from the night skies into an otherwise calm and clear night.

It is a new year.

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As Billy's hands land on his arm, Hickey's free hand reaches over to lightly rest on Billy's leg, unintentionally mimicking the other man's actions. He's here. He's real. He's solid.

"Yeah. I saw it. Those skulls. That...ending."

The power behind it. He was hungry, he was tired, but he was there. This place was going to end. And Cornelius Hickey was going to see it through. He has to, he's going to, Hickey refuses to accept that dream was telling him something as useless as 'you're going to die.'

"That's never happened before," he points out. "There have been voices. We've heard things. But nothing like this, nothing shared."

"It knew our names."

It's not the thing that sticks out the most in his mind, honestly. That awful monster did, that feeling of everything ending did, but those aren't things Billy really wants to think about right away, not while he's still feeling so shaky. Thinking about awful things that may be coming and he can't help will only get him more panicked.

It makes it easy to focus on something else that's also weird, but not quite as bad among the rest of it.

(Still bad, though. Being perceived may be a great thing to Hickey, but Billy does not need this in his life. Maybe that's why he's using our here. Even though he obviously only heard his own name, he figures that must have been a commonality between all the dreams as well.)

"Course it knew our names," Hickey points out, with a little shake of his head. There's a moment before he continues, light sparkling in his eyes.

"We're important. We're something else. We were brought here for a reason, after all." What that reason was, he's still not entirely sure. But it exists. It happened. All these things, these circumstances keep piling up and honestly, Hickey thinks that people would be foolish to deny it. The dream, the deer, the voices, they're all for a reason. And that reason is more than whoever's here simply deciding to fuck with them.

Right? Right.

"Don't see why it wouldn't know us."

See, there are points here that he won't disagree with Hickey on. Maybe he would have, back home, but in the light of that dream and the way it feels like it still clings to him, it's impossible to deny that it does seem they were brought here for a reason. It does seem that they are known by that force.

Billy may not like the idea, but that's no reason to deny something that just seems objectively true at this point.

The difference is in the opinion about it. Hickey thinks it's since they're important. It doesn't feel that way to Billy at all. The other's eyes almost sparkle, while Billy's own just look dark with dread. It feels like watching everything unfold back home all over again, but several degrees more fucked up this time around. Somehow.

"What reason, Cornelius?"

The hand that's still on the other's arm grips on a little tighter. Perhaps it's fear. Perhaps desperation. He's well aware the other can't know for sure either - and if Hickey pretends he does, it's a delusion - but who else does he have to turn to at a moment like this?

"To witness this? The end of things?" That's what that entire dream had felt like, after all. "That-- monster?"

"That's what it wants," Hickey says, with a little nod. Because there's no use denying it: that monster felt like it wanted this to end, like it wanted the entire world to vanish and burn and for them to watch while it happens. They were chosen to be important, chosen to see the end of things.

That being said, Hickey would rather not watch the world end. He lives here, after all.

"Obviously it's not going to succeed. There are other things here, other gods besides that...wolf thing." The deer. The boar. "We've got that thing's attention. But we've got the other gods' favor."

Billy's gripping his arm. That touch is real, grounding, something that keeps Hickey to earth, keeping him from flitting away in his delusions and his what ifs. So he reciprocates. There's a moment of hesitation before Hickey moves one of his hands to wrap around Billy's waist, pulling the man closer. It's an act of tenderness that he's very rarely done and only feels comfortable doing so in this place, where they're in the same room, nobody else to see.

"I'm not letting the end of things happen that easily."

He feels that arm wrap around his waist.

It leaves him still for a moment. Still, and quiet, just watching the contours of the other man's face in the darkness - a familiar sight over many quick dark trips to the orlop. Then Billy slowly leans forward, bending until his forehead rests against the other's shoulder. It's with a similar tenderness as the hold around his waist.

"I am not sure if anything at all is on our side here," he says, his voice softer now they're close enough to be able to hear each other even more easily, even if there's no need to hide their voices from others this time around, alone in an otherwise empty house.

His breathing is soft, even though he can still feel his heart knocking about his entire ribcage with nerves.

"But.. you are right." Not about that last part. No doubt that Hickey would fight such a fate, but he is only human, just like the rest of them. He can't magically stop it all, if that thing from the dream came for them. No matter what Hickey himself might think.

His mind is on something else. Different words. Ones he still remembers. "We just need to make the best out of a bad situation."

Even if this is the hard they're being dealt, they're alive here. Billy doesn't want to give that up either.

But how bad is this situation? Something wants to end the world, yeah. Something wants them to be there, watching when the world ends. But there's no guarantee they'll be there. Just like there's no guarantee the world is going to end. What's only guaranteed is the here and now. And in the here and now, there's at least one god that's interested in him. That's good.

Hickey keeps that to himself, though. Instead, he leans in towards Billy, resting against the man, showing that he's here, he's right next to him, he's got this man.

"We'll make the best of a bad situation together. Like we always have." There's a moment before a wry smile crosses Hickey's face as he points out, "Though I'll find it easier to make the best of that situation here, where we've actually got a bit of privacy."

At that remark Billy pulls back a little bit. His intention doesn't seem to be on getting away from the other though, since he doesn't really decrease their current physical proximity. He's mostly pulling his head back up enough that he can actually stare at the other man after Hickey says those words.

Silently, for a moment, like he's thinking about something. Probably a sarcastic quip that comes to mind first, or a more worried remark, but the fact he's staying quiet means he's biting both of those down.

Maybe he wants something a little lighter too in the face of everything they just saw.

"Yeah?" His voice is still soft. Though now not just in volume, but also a little bit more in tone, like there's a softness creeping in around the edges. "It does have some unique benefits."

"Indeed it does."

And Hickey plans to take advantage of those benefits right here, right now. He gives Billy a cavalier little smirk before going in to give the man a kiss, right on the lips. It's something calm and tender—after all, Billy's probably still a bit worked up about that dream. But there's something passionate behind the tenderness.

If Hickey had his way? He'd like it if they did more than just kiss.

He accepts the kiss.

Gladly, apparently, because the moment Hickey may pull back from it, Billy is the one chasing him instead, moving to press a second kiss to the other man's lips. There really is something in it like tender comfort, reminding him that yes, this place is shitty, and in some ways terrifying, but at least it's an upgrade from the Arctic, and at least he's alive, and at least he can kiss Cornelius.

Making the best of a bad situation, indeed.

He lingers a little longer in that second kiss, but when he pulls away, he softly speaks up again.

"We can go ahead, if you want to." It's certainly not that Billy is reading the other's mind here. It's just that they're of the same thought here, apparently. And he does know Hickey will pick up on what he means. "I'm not sure how much my body has recovered, but-- I feel better. It should be fine."

Hickey can't help but give Billy a delighted little smile at that. Go ahead if you want to. It should be fine. Christ, how he's been thinking about this ever since Kieren said that people in his time didn't judge as much about that sort of thing. That it wasn't criminalized. That he could hold hands with Billy, hell maybe even kiss him in public and nobody would bat an eye.

It's intoxicating.

He loves it.

"Then let me push you back onto this bed and take your clothes off and we'll have some proper fun." Though Hickey will take a moment to chuckle, "An actual goddamn bed, Billy. When've we had something like that?"

Never. First time for everything and Hickey plans to make sure they both enjoy themselves.

Billy doesn't even consciously realise that his lips have curled up to smile right back at the other. It's like there's something infectuous about the others attitude, especially when Billy is so greedy for this in order to be able to forget about everything else for a moment. Better to think about that giddiness he's always liked so much about the other.

And the bed. The bed is worth the giddiness, honestly. Billy imagines that he might for once not feel as stiff as a plank after they have their fun. It seems like a ridiculous thing to be so excited about, but when you're used to less..

It eggs him on a little further, bringing forth the playfulness within him that no one but the other man could induce in him. His tone is practically a whisper with how close to the other's ear he still is, but it's an amused one, like a more Billy-esque mirror of the other's excitement.

"If you think the bed is exciting, just imagine all the new sorts of fun we could explore." You know, now they're no longer bound to having to do things quickly before someone might discover them. "No need to keep quiet anymore, right?"

Hickey's grin just gets even wider. Because as far as he's concerned? Billy's right. No need to be quiet. Time to enjoy themselves fully.

"C'mere," he says, grin on his face, as he practically pushes Billy back onto the bed, grabbing the covers to pull over them as he leans in for a big, ridiculous, long and passionate kiss.

There's absolutely no resistance to the movement. Hickey's hands are against him, pushing, and Billy lets himself drop back onto the bed. There are no complaints whatsoever about any of this happening, but even if there had been, they would have been long muffled against the long kiss, not important whatsoever between the hands that might start to wander a little.

Billy could make an infinitely long list of 'stuff he'd rather be doing than think about that dream from just now'. Most things would be on there, really. But this? It's quite close to the top of said list.

Good thing it's what they're having, then.

Hickey still wants to think about that dream. He wants to piece it out, figure it out, see what his place in this all is and find a way to find it. But right now? Billy's under him, his hands are on the man he loves, and he is more than happy to just indulge in that feeling right now.

Yeah. He can get used to this.

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prelude

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this is probably a good wrapping point! c:

and then they FUCKED