venvolkov
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SUBJECT IS DORMANT
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Post by venvolkov on Oct 22, 2010 0:39:12 GMT -5
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The morning saw Ven, not at his usual bedside perch as he waited for Adam, but instead by the desk. It bore the signs of aging of something that was once cherished--water spots and peeling reddish-chocolate varnish. Even the legs were crisscrossed with black scuff marks and bald spots of finished wood beneath, where the varnish had long ago flaked off. The room's former occupant had salvaged it, and promptly shoved it beneath the window ledge of Ven's room. It belonged to Ven, now--and though he'd never admit it, the man was oddly sentimental over the worn bit of furniture. The surface was dotted that morning with several sheets of paper stacked on top of one another, and both a pen and pencil, each neatly side by side. The pen was for Ven, the pencil for Adam. Ven liked pens--the permanence of their ink. One of the few things in the world, as far as the Russian was concerned, that stayed the same--or stayed at all.
The paper was lined, torn out of a legal pad. The white, unlined pages of Ven's moleskin simply wouldn't do. And so, his preparation made, Ven settled in to wait for Adam. Though it was true that Adam had taken to sleeping in Ven's bed in recent weeks, the two of them rarely saw each other in the morning. Ven was an earlier riser--and often slipped from the room long before Adam ever stirred. By mid-afternoon, when he returned to the room, Adam was usually long gone himself--already absorbed in his duties for the day. And although their conflicting schedules had taken a few weeks to get used to, the couple still found time to take meals together--or slip away just long enough for shared quiet time.
It was strange. Months ago, Ven wouldn't have thought that he'd settle down with Petite. In fact, he most likely would've laughed out loud at the notion. And yet... "he grows on you." Those had been the somewhat exasperated and final words of the Fulsi delta when she'd first assigned Adam to Ven. And, like a cryptic sort of prophecy, he had. Much to Ven's surprise. They were an odd pair--that much was certain. But then, Ven had never exactly had any "normal" relationships to begin with. But in their own strange way, they made sense.
But the mentor had one more thing to teach that morning. Not the usual lessons on how to track, how to hunt, and how, to a lesser extent, to fight. No--this idea had come to Ven suddenly, in the middle of another of his sleepless nights. He was going to teach Adam how to write. It wouldn't require too much of their time--only three or four days a week. And even when Ven couldn't be there to each him, Adam could practice on his own. It was something he'd wanted to do for the man for a while. If nothing else, it would be a good asset for his new rank. For the moment, there was nothing else to do but wait. Checking over the supplies one last time and giving a nod of satisfaction, Ven settled in on the edge of his bed, and did just that.
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adam
GUEST
SUBJECT IS DORMANT
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Post by adam on Oct 25, 2010 11:48:40 GMT -5
[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=d6eaf3] Adam’s body lay curled up in a tangle of sheets, still drifting blissfully in and out of sleep even though the room’s real owner had already risen. Adam hadn’t stirred much though, only really moving when Ven had left the bed and took his warmth with him leaving him to readjust and cling to a pillow instead. It was hardly the same thing but to his sleep clouded mind a pillow was a fine substitute for the Russian and besides Ven’s scent, not the phantom vanilla that he was used to but rather the Hunter’s real scent, still clung to the fabric and though he was often too deep into sleep to notice, being with Ven at night was calming. It was so different from the nights he’d spent alone and shaking beneath the sheets, to afraid to sleep with the possibly of monsters hiding under his makeshift chair bed or in his closet. Now a days he slept peacefully with only a few mutters of frightened sleep talk or whimpers on the bad days when the nightmares did come back. Yet thankfully they hadn’t come back in full force, just flashes of blood and whispers of screams floating in and out of his normal and more cheerful dreams easily vanquished by a quick cuddle with Ven.
Now in the midst of a dream about flying purple cheetahs, his body turned, rolling to the side till it hit something both hard and soft at the same time. Vaguely Adam’s mind registered the object as a person, specifically as Ven once the sound of violins flooded his brain, and it’s reaction was to cling. Without so much as a fully formed thought, Adam’s arms wrapped themselves around Ven’s waist as the rest of his body curled itself into a ball around him. “H-Hi.”A drowsy sigh escaped him as he lay there, perfectly content to just stay like that and perhaps planning to. However during his little roll across the bed, the sheets had been left behind allowing the cold to seep straight through his thin clothes and right into his skin. It made him shiver, which in turn brought his mind slowly out of the dream world where the flying purple cheetah had suddenly become his Russian boyfriend.
Untangling his arms from the Hunter, Adam patted the top of the bed trying to find the sheets that he’d abandoned without even bothering to open his eyes. When his hands only grasped at air, he let out an annoyed little whimper and blearily peeked open an eye, then the other. Blinking up a storm, he lazily glanced about the room, quickly losing interest in the sheets in favor of Ven. He didn't always have time to enjoy a day with the Hunter, his new schedule kept him almost permanently busy.“Y-you a-a-are always up s-s-so early, Ven! S-so…s-so early!” He murmured, rolling over again so that he could bury his face into the mattress with a quiet sigh. “I r-r-really don’t k-know how you d-do it.” His words still came slow and his voice was muffled by the way he pressed his face into the bed avoiding the glare of the morning light but slowly he was waking up.
Ooc: Shot-ish, sorry!
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venvolkov
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Post by venvolkov on Oct 25, 2010 23:44:19 GMT -5
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The moment Adam's listless movements came into contact with Ven's side, he jumped slightly. Though he'd had several weeks to adjust to the presence of someone else in his bed, it was still unsettling, from time to time. Especially in cases where, their owners oblivious, limp limbs tangled around him, like disembodied, willful creatures. It happened more often than not with Adam--and Ven found it more than a little disconcerting that the man managed to locate him so effortlessly--even with his eyes shut. He kept utterly still as Adam wound around him. "Good morning," he greeted, his tones amused. He was under the impression that it honestly wouldn't have mattered what he said in response--Adam was clearly not yet awake, himself. Relaxing slightly from his initial startled reaction, he reached out with a hand, gently patting Adam's arm. It was as affectionate as it was an impatient prompt for him to begin the day.
One, it seemed, that Adam was intent on ignoring, as his body promptly rolled in the opposite direction. Ven stared after him, torn between amusement and exasperation. However, on the positive side of things, he was free to move once more, now that the drowsing Adam had uncoiled from around him. Chuckling quietly at the frustrated noise the other man made, Ven rose to his feet, making his way to the foot of the bed. Raising an eyebrow at the remark--which was thick and bleary with sleep, he gave his head a short shake. "Years of practice. It's habit, by now." For a moment, he simply stared, waiting for any sign that Adam would rouse by himself. No such luck, it seemed--he had tucked his face into the mattress, mumbling quietly to himself. Ven waited patiently a few minutes more, before, with a quick shrug of his shoulders, he abruptly seized the sheets at the foot of the bed and sharply yanked them backwards, freeing them from the bed entirely.
"Rise and shine, princess." Ven crumpled the sheets in his hand before letting them fall soundlessly to the floor, looking immensely pleased with himself. As he moved from around the bed, he passed the still prone form of Adam, and, seeing that his earlier cheek had done nothing to encourage the man, drew his hand back, delivering a cheeky smack to his upturned ass a second later. "I said. Get up." His words were nothing but cheerful as he made his way over to the desk once more, drawing the chair back with a rather noisy, rattling scrape across the length of the floorboards.
"You're going to learn something new today."
Ooc: ...I am not responsible for this man.
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adam
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Post by adam on Oct 26, 2010 22:32:25 GMT -5
[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=d6eaf3] Adam was in the midst of denying that he was any sort of princess, face pressed into the sheets making his words incomprehensible and mostly unheard when Ven made his move. The slap made his blue eyes open wide as saucers, fully awake and alert from the stinging pain. His body in truth hadn’t been hit that hard but the blow had come as a shock, making him shoot forward and away with a loud squeak. For a moment after, Adam relaxed back into the sheets, sleep calling his tired mind just as loudly as ever then a thought came to him, tugging him back to the world of the awake. What if Ven repeated the gesture or did something worse? The Russian slapped hard after all! Wary and now protective of his bottom, Adam rolled onto his back with a huff, giving his former mentor a half hearted glare with the one eye he’d bothered to open. “T-that h-hurt Ven! I j-just w-w-wanted to s-sleep a little longer, you d-d-didn’t have to h-hit me!” He grumbled, that one open eye drifting back shut with a few lazy blinks.
The cold was on Ven’s side however, intent on keeping Adam from sleeping in on his only day off. Forgetting that his lover had yanked them off just moments ago, he once again reached for the sheets only to let out a pathetic little whine we his hands only found the bare mattress. Tucking his exposed arms under the pillows in a last ditch attempt to find some sort of warmth, Adam was dismayed to find that now his feet were freezing, there was just no winning for him. So with another sigh, this time half a yawn, Adam slowly dragged himself up into a sitting position. His body protested, wanting nothing more than to lay back down and sleep, whatever Ven said but his mind was stronger and forced him to stay propped up against the pillows, blinking in the morning light and over flowing with yawns.
It was now that he recalled Ven’s earlier words, the ones uttered by the Russian while Adam was still fighting his battle with sleep. The vanilla scented Hunter wanted to teach him something? Adam couldn’t even guess at what Ven could possibly want explain to him, other than perhaps weapons and then they both know that Adam would be more likely to pocket any items than actually wield them. So then what could the blonde be up to? “S-so what am…am I l-learning that’s m-more important than s-s-sleep?” Balling his hands into fists to rub at his eyes between yawns, Adam edged towards the end of the bed, ready now to leave the comfort of the soft mattress.
For a few minutes, Adam took his time to dangle his legs off the edge of the bed, searching out where his socks had gone. He just didn’t see crossing the most likely icy floor with any protection as a possibility but yet his socks were in a neat little pile by his boots, closer to the door them to him. Glaring at the white things, Adam supposed he could always try his telepathy on them or he could always ask Ven to get them, though he wasn’t sure the blonde would considering all the fuss he’d already put Ven through that morning. With a sigh, he focused his mind on the socks, willing them to come to him and for a few seconds the balls of fabric disobeyed. Then the socks shook and hovered in the air, zooming forward till they hit him squarely in the chest.
Fumbling to grab the socks, Adam hastily shoved them on and got to his feet. His movements were still awkward and sluggish but never the less it didn’t take him too long to shamble over to Ven, curiously peering down at the things on the desk. He reached around Ven to finger a piece of paper, reminded of the books he often spent hours and hours reading or rather had used to back before he’d been captured. The memory brought a tiny smile to his face and giving Ven an affectionate nuzzle, Adam prepared himself for whatever the Russian had in mind. “W-what’s all t-this for a-anyways?”
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venvolkov
GUEST
SUBJECT IS DORMANT
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Post by venvolkov on Oct 27, 2010 0:26:43 GMT -5
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A rather unsympathetic stare met Adam's complaint. Truthfully, he hadn't struck him all that hard--and Adam, for all of his complaints, knew this. Ven had begun to notice, however, that his lover had a habit of making things seem worse than they were. Rolling his eyes slightly, Ven's fingers drummed gently against the back of the chair, with a muffled, rhythmic pattern. "Are you finished?" he demanded. Adam would get no sympathy from the Russian that morning. But rather than answering him, it seemed that the tiger shifter had other plans--ones, as it were, that involved settling back onto the mattress. The blonde was beginning to think that it would take nothing short of a natural disaster to remove the sleepy-eyed and stubborn man from the fading warmth of the bed.
Curiously, he allowed it, making no move to interrupt him as his one cracked eye began to drift shut again. Patience had always been the key in getting Adam to go along with his plans. If Adam thought that his stubborn refusal to stir would be enough to convince the Russian to concede defeat, he'd be sorely disappointed. Ven was prepared to wait him out into the afternoon, if he had no other choice. Two could play Adam's game--and Ven was just as stubborn as the Head. As if to make it clear to Adam that he had no intention of leaving anytime soon, Ven abruptly sank into the chair himself, straddling the back of it, resting his crossed arms over its top as he stared.
After several minutes, when even that failed to encourage Adam to his feet, he began to rock the chair--leaning just far enough back on its back legs so that, when he leaned forward again, it brought the chairs legs down solidly with an obnoxious thump. It was sometime after the fourth time he'd done this that Adam slowly sat up, looking utterly miserable, perched as he was on the edge of the bed. For a moment, Ven felt a twinge of guilt. The set of Adam's shoulders gave him an utterly exhausted look--though the man looked chronically tired, these days. But the guilt vanished quickly in the face of his triumph.
"You'll see." Ven had no intention of telling Adam outright--with the sort of mood the man was in, he'd decide that it could wait, and promptly retreat to the mattress once more. And Ven simply couldn't have that--not when he'd gone through the trouble of waking him up to begin with. He waited until Adam had actually gotten to his feet and made his way to the desk before he spoke, lazily rising from the chair as he did so.
"You're going to learn how to write." Gesturing for Adam to take the chair he'd just exited, he lazily circled around the man's side, burrowing his face into the crook of his neck for a moment and heaving a quiet, content sigh. "Sit," he added after a second, splaying a hand at the small of his back and giving him a gentle push forward.
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adam
GUEST
SUBJECT IS DORMANT
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Post by adam on Oct 28, 2010 20:13:17 GMT -5
[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=d6eaf3] “C-can’t w-we do s-s-something more f-fun! It’s m-my only f-f-free day for a while and I-I w-wanted to enjoy it w-with you….”The calm that had settled onto him from Ven’s affectionate burrow soon vanished and Adam tensed, his words dropping into silence as the desk before him became a lot more sinister than it had been mere seconds ago. Ven wanted to teach him how to write! That realization frightened him, much more than it should in fact. Writing brought to mind not books like the paper had but instead the mad little scribbles that had lined the walls of his prison cell or rather his room in the maison de passe section, as the guards liked to refer to it. He always had thought it was kind of funny, the sector of the mental hospital where he’d been sent and where all the other so called privileged patients lived, it had hard walls. Hard walls and selves and all sort of things that could be used for nasty purposes, that's what they'd given him and all he'd done was read. Sometimes he’d just laid there and read the words etched into the white painted walls for hours on end, glad that he couldn’t add to the collection of text. If he could have written then perhaps what he said would be seen by some other boy years later and perhaps that boy would think him insane. But Adam didn’t know how to write and so he’d kept any doubts of his sanity as just that, doubts. There was of course the matter of the curly scrawl that kept adding to his wall every night but he had told himself that another patient had written that while he was in the guard’s office. Blue eyes wincing shut, Adam brushed the impossibility of that idea away, it didn’t really matter anymore.
A hand giving him just the slightest push brought him back to reality for a moment but it didn’t last. Writing, it just brought things up to the surface of his mind that Adam really didn’t want to see. Dead men don’t speak but they float, he’d seen that on a wall too. A white wall, in red letters that had made drippy lines all the way down to the floor, that’s where he’d seen it. Adam hadn’t written it though, he could write and the he didn’t have red ink. Red ink, that made him laugh. “I..I d-don’t k-know how t-though…” His voice was soft and distant, almost scared in the way it’s pitch shook and Adam’s eyes were unfocused as he slowly sat down despite his protests. He didn’t want to disappoint Ven, yet the paper scared him in a way that the Russian’s frown never could. A frown was like unhappy cracks, the paper was like a prison wall with veins of red and blue, like a person designed to keep his thoughts all in order. All his thoughts lined up in a row, like lambs to the slaughter or even a firing squad armed with a truth he wasn’t ready to face. The French man glared sullen daggers at the paper for a few more minutes, one hand already tangling itself into his dark brown hair, then gingerly he picked up the pencil. “Fine. I-I’ll g-give it a t-t-try.” He knew only two English saying about love, that it made one stupid and it made one stronger.
Adam rolled the writing utensil in his hand, listening closely to the chirps it made as the painted wood spun between his fingers for even the tiniest sign that the pencil was out to get him. He didn’t like it but even his own muddled mind said that it had no ill intention but still Adam was wary, a pencil could become a weapon in a second, just as words could. Quaking visibly now, a bad habit that being around Ven had quelled somewhat, Adam tapped the pencil’s eraser against the worn wood of the desk. The tapping noise was annoying but it was a distraction, it made him look like he was thinking instead of stalling. However the urge not to disappoint his boyfriend rose again and reluctantly he tilted his head back to stare up at Ven. “W-w-what do you w-want me t-to write?” Blue eyes still narrowed from squinting at the paper, Adam almost looked angry but the frown that quivered on his lips told a different story. He was just scared, of what he wasn’t exactly sure but it was something. Something bad.
Head still tilted back and the chair haphazardly leaning as well, Adam’s eyes drifted shut, in thought this time not sleep. He wanted, no needed to make this work. As a Head of Border Patrol, Adam would be required to write a report sometime, in fact he was surprised he hadn’t been asked to already. His boyfriend was being kind and caring to even think of teaching him and what was he doing? He was being ridiculous. All those things he remembered from the institution must have been dreams, just drug induced dreams. He was safe now, safe and loved and a stupid dingy piece of paper couldn’t do anything to him. A paper cut maybe but nothing more! So with a tiny smile, one that wavered more than he intended or even knew, Adam pointed to the box on the top of his messenger bag. “C-can w-w-we at least p-practice in something m-m-more c-colorful?”
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venvolkov
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Post by venvolkov on Oct 29, 2010 12:44:02 GMT -5
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A heavy sigh met Adam's words. If he had bothered to turn around, he'd have been greeted with the sight of Ven gently pressing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, eyes gently folded shut in a quiet imploring for patience. That exact phrase had been used so often by Adam. whenever he'd grown bored of Ven's exhaustive and rather rigorous hunting sessions, that for a moment, it triggered a whisper of his old irritation. After a moment, his hand fell limply at his side once more. "We can do something 'more fun' later," he replied. "Once you've finished this." The same stotic reply he'd given the man was as unchanged now as it had been the numerous times before. With perhaps one key difference--none of the sternness lingered in his tone. In many respects, the awkward young man had taught Ven how to rein his temper in check, and to speak with more patience--or at times, to listen more, and speak less. It was a curious thing--but not necessarily bad.
Though at Adam's protest, Ven felt some of that patience slipping from him once more. "I know," he countered. "That's why I'm teaching you." He kept his words measured and light. There was no sense in discouraging Adam further by suddenly taking on a sharp tone. Besides, Adam rose a valid point. It was true that the two, for all of the fact that they were now a couple, rarely saw each other. Adam was periodically graced with a few days respite--allowed to rest or engage in whatever leisurely desire he chose. Ven, however, had no such luxury. There was never a time when the Fulsi weren't hungry--which contributed, in part, to the reason why Ven was long asleep by the time Adam stumbled through the door, most evenings. When he could sleep. Shaking the thought from his mind, he refocused on Adam, just as the man reluctantly agreed to the lesson.
A quiet, pleased smile broke across his lips. The hand that had rested against his back rose, moving to settle gently on his shoulder, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze. Ven was never one to openly praise--but the small gesture spoke volumes. The tapping, however, at first soft and unobtrusive-a mild annoyance, at best--soon began to grate with its incessant, hollow rhythm. "Adam..." he began, exasperation creeping into his voice. It was then that Adam glanced up at him, his eyes narrowed in an expression that, even with the subtle quiver of his lips, was unnerving. It gave Ven pause, and for a moment, he considered telling Adam to forget the whole idea. If it was causing him that much distress, after all, he didn't see the point in continuing.
But instead, he leaned over Adam's shoulder slightly. "Just trace the letters I've already copied down for you," he said, using his own fingertip to trace the faint, dotted outlines of the letters. "Just to gt your hand used to the motion." The slight pressure of the chair's backing against his waist caused Ven to step back, allowing Adam to tip the chair back onto its back legs, much as he had done minutes earlier. He was silent. Adam would have to come to the decision on his own. There was only so much he could do to help him--just as there was only so much he could make him do. The question, when it came, caught him off guard, and he blinked, his eyes tracing the path of Adam's finger.
"I don't see why not," he said thoughtfully, after a moment staring forward. A moment later, he returned with the brightly colored pens onto the desk in front of Adam. "Better?" he inquired dryly.
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adam
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Post by adam on Oct 30, 2010 18:59:10 GMT -5
[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=d6eaf3] His gaze was torn between Ven’s finger and the Russian face, both were comforting in different ways. The way his former mentor traced the letters seemed to almost render the paper harmless, as if Ven could make everything he touched safe and he could, at least to Adam. On the other hand, Adam had never quite gotten over how beautiful Ven’s eyes were. They were a clear blue, a real blue, not at all a mix like his own and there was something about them that was powerful. Adam suppose it was because the eyes were the window to one’s soul and because he loved Ven’s soul, or rather all of Ven more than his life. It was silly but true, they hadn’t even been dating for too long and he’d already fallen head over heels for his Russian boyfriend. Blinking a bit to clear his mind before it went from day dreaming to full on sleeping, Adam heaved a tiny sigh and plopped his chair back down onto all four of it’s legs. Scooting the chair closer to the desk he gave the paper a quick inspection and nearly panicked again. Sure he could read all of the letters Ven had wrote but he certainly didn’t know how to write them. Racking his brain, Adam tried to recall when he’d first attempted to make letters of his own, it had been a long time ago that he knew. Vague memories of his father tracing the alphabet into the dirt by the gutter surfaced but they were accompanied by flashes of red and the hollow noise of liquid falling on to metal and Adam quickly silenced the train of thoughts, afraid of where it might lead.
Ven placing his borrowed box of pens and colorful things to write with onto the desk was a welcome distraction. Adam reached for the box, examining the mix of gel pens, markers, and of course the fat teal sharpie that had always reminded him of Ven. For a moment he considered using the sharpie but he knew that the tip would not only bleed through the thin sheet of paper but it was also too big for tracing especially since he had a feeling his hand was going to be shaky. “T-thanks!” He squeaked out, not exactly sure how thankful he really was. Adam knew that he’d only embarrass himself by trying to write but not trying, where would that get him? Ven would be disappointed in him either way. So with a shaky breath, Adam picked up a green pen and started to trace.
Hand quivering just as much as his lips, he began the first line of an A. The green zigzag that overlaid Ven’s neat handwriting made Adam want to chuck the pen across the room and hide under the bedcovers in shame. He just felt so stupid and useless all over again, small children could write better than him and yet he was twenty two and they were twelve! Still he kept trying, each sloppy line getting worse with his increasing frustration and each line making his frustration worse. Brief flash backs of when the Ringmaster of his old show used to slap him for this exact reason made him flinch, he was lucky that Ven was more tolerant of his failures. If the Russian wasn’t then perhaps at this moment he’d be eating out of a bowl on the floor because after all, the stray dogs were better than he was. Hand clenching harder around the pen, Adam bite his lip and tried to force the next memory away.
Yet there it was. The two blondes were rolling around on the floor screaming and gripping each other’s throats. Adam remembered being curled up in the corner, still dripping wet from the Ringmaster’s latest punishment, and he had been so scared. The next part was hazy, somewhere during the fight he’d stabbed the Ringmaster. So much blood, there had been so much blood! Shaking his head furiously, Adam opened the eyes he hadn’t known he’d closed. The pen in his quaking hand was pressed so hard against the paper that it had broken through and his body was racked by a trembling that he hadn’t experience for a long time now. “V-ven….I..I c-can’t d-d-do it. It…it’s j-just t-too hard!” Adam’s voice was quiet and choked, it reminded him of a child, reminded him that he was no better than one. It hurt.
Ooc: WE MUST FINISH THIS THREAD TONIGHT! POST TILL OUR FINGERS ROT OFF. FOR THE EPIC THREAD MUST START TOMORROW!
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venvolkov
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SUBJECT IS DORMANT
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Post by venvolkov on Oct 30, 2010 19:23:31 GMT -5
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Ven had remained silent as he'd observed Adam's efforts to do as he'd instructed--except for the quiet murmur of 'you're welcome' that had answered the man's earlier thanks. He said nothing as the first pen stroke went wide of its mark, leaving an abrupt, haphazardly drawn mark across the pale sheet of paper, missing the graceful curves of the written letter entirely. It was something Adam would have to do for himself--correct himself, start again. Ven was there for guidance, and for support, but he wasn't there to simply do it for him. Still, it hadn't been enough to silence the soft, sympathetic wince in response to Adam's own mounting frustration. Ven's eyes quietly resettled on the untouched, uniform letters, as if he hadn't noticed the tinge of green towards the top of the paper at all. It wasn't a gesture that Adam could see, of course, but perhaps it would be reassuring in its calm indifference.
When the trembling in Adam's hand grew more apparent, a quiet noise slipped from Ven's lips, his brows creasing. The sound was not one meant in disapproval, or correction. But in sympathy. It was as much of a painful struggle for Ven to stand idly by as Adam struggled as it was for the other man to try to complete a difficult--and seemingly impossible--task. Still making the soft, soothing notes low in his throat, his hands lifted, hovering uncertainty for a moment. The brief impulse to simply lay his hand over Adam's and guide the motion of both fingers and wrist struck him, but he shook it away. He would let him try, he resolved, until he couldn't. Instead, his hands settled onto Adam's shoulders, his thumbs gently massing over the tension he felt there, stroking absently.
Persistence ruled here. The difference, however, was that Ven was determined to make the learning process a positive one. Raised voices would be of no help, and in honesty, there was no need to be upset. Adam was doing as Ven had asked--to the best of abilities. Ven was oddly touched by the dedication Adam was showing, in spite of the discomfort and frustration it brought him. But when his hand jerked yet another time, this time pressing the felt tip straight through the paper with the force of his concentration, Ven sighed quietly. For a moment, he said nothing, his head bowed. And then, giving Adam's shoulders a gentle pat, he spoke up at last.
"It's alright, Adam." His arms wrapped around his chest, pulling him into a brief embrace. And then, his fingers skimming down his upper arms until they reached the back of his hands, he cupped his own hand over top of Adam's. "Here. We'll do it together, then." He didn't allow Adam any room to protest. With those words, he began to guide Adam's writing hand over the letters, tracing them for the man with gentle nudges and turns from his own grip. It was, if nothing else, a merciful start.
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adam
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Post by adam on Oct 30, 2010 20:35:57 GMT -5
[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=d6eaf3] Adam flinched reflexively at the pat, he was used to touches much more harsh when he couldn’t accomplish something, like a slap or kick not a simple and reassuring pat. It was still odd, even after being with Ven for so long Adam always expected worse for doing something wrong even though the Russian’s violin playing touches had never once come cruelly. “I…It’s n-not! I..I’m s-s-sorry for b-being so….b-bad at it.” Adam murmured a bit more sullenly then frightened now. Ven’s embraces were always the easiest way to calm him down, not to mention the fastest. There was no safer place for him than in his boyfriend’s arm, no matter what was going on around him. Adam even had a feeling that he wouldn’t mind dying all that much as long as he had Ven around to see him off. It was a foolish thought, but as he blushed his way through Ven’s touches still shaking like a leaf, he couldn’t find a single word to deny it. With Ven’s hand holding his, all the painful memories found themselves swept into the metaphorical dusty closet of his mind and even his frantic shaking started to slowly abate. The warmth of Ven’s hand comforted his own and the death grip he had on the poor little chirping pen loosened considerably, enough at least to make writing feasible.
With the blondes gentle guidance, Adam’s train wreck attempts from before improved greatly, even though Ven was the one doing all the actual work. Still the gesture gave him hope, something he certainly hadn’t started out with and that he would need to get this lesson done right. A slow smile that Adam hadn’t even consciously thought of began to replace the intense look of concentration that before had been almost etched onto his face and gradually he relaxed into the chair. The motions needed to write the letters didn’t seem quite so impossible anymore rather just really hard, like something he needed to work on till he had handwriting that could make his vanilla scented boyfriend proud! Though Adam was still convinced it would be a long, long while before he came anywhere close to writing in the perfect script of his former mentor, who was ironically once again his teacher. Sometimes days like this made Adam wondered if he could call Ven his former anything, the Russian was always teaching him something new. In more ways then one, he thought with a blush.
Taking in a deep and determined breath, Adam decided that it was about time that he tried again. He’d seen how Ven traced the letters many times now and he’d already gotten so much help from his boyfriend. Now it was his turn. Twisting his head so that he could glimpse Ven’s face over his shoulder Adam tried to quell any rising nervousness. The thought of Ven pulling away and the horrible memories all flooding back into center stage tied his stomach into little knots and choked him. Yet Adam knew in the back of his mind that someday he wouldn’t be able to run from those faded memories and perhaps that was what compelled him to speak up, an uncertainly returning to his voice. “I..I want t-to try again n-now…..I..I think I..c-can do it now. Sort of a-a-at least.”
Ooc: ....Sharpie time yet? XD
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venvolkov
GUEST
SUBJECT IS DORMANT
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Post by venvolkov on Oct 30, 2010 21:01:58 GMT -5
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For a moment, Ven considered hastily drawing back his hands. He had yet to grow used to the fact that his unexpected touches still evoked that response in his lover, at times. Perhaps Adam found his touch more distracting than helpful at the moment--something he could accept. But when Adam spoke, the same tinge of frustration that had made his movements so sporadic and jerky when he'd tried to pen the letters on his own colored his voice. "It is," he repeated, his words both firm but warm in their assertion. "And it's not that you're bad at it, you're only learning how. It'll take some time." Time, after all, was something that they had more than enough of. The teaching would be slow in progress--needing at least months before Adam was able to be confident in his skills--but it was time that the hunter had no issues with setting aside.
Ven's own lips tugged into a smile, a mild upward tilt at the corners, as he noticed the way that Adam's gaze was rapt on the motion of their joined hands, watching the pattern of the letters unfold across the page. There was something almost optimistic in the man's eyes now, in place of his previous despair. As Ven's hand guided Adam's, he himself drew closer to Adam, unconsciously seeking as much contact between them as possible. There was something...pleasing, about the mundane motions. It gave them time together, and at the same time, the repetition of the tracing connected them as surely as the lines of the letters flowed into the next. It was something he'd missed more than he'd known, the closeness between himself and someone else. Someone important to him.
After a moment, just as they finished the final loop of a letter, Adam spoke up once more. There was a slight uncertainty to his voice, but it was subtle--lacking the dominance it had held over his words before. Ven was pleasantly surprised, but he didn't argue, only giving a short nod of his head and gently dropping his hand from his. But he didn't move away. Instead, he watched Adam's hand with interest.
"Glad to hear it!" the grin in his voice was evident. "Let's see what you can do, then." But as Adam bent over the desk, intent on copying the letters himself, a sly look entered the Russian's eyes unseen. "On second thought," he said conversationally, "maybe it'll help more if you watch me one more time." That said, he abruptly leaned over Adam once more, snagging the edge of the box containing the various, brightly colored pens with the ends of his fingers. Taking care not to disrupt Adam's papers, he slid it across the edge of the table, carefully looking them over for a moment before at last making his selection.
He slid a pale blue sharpie from the inside of the box, and quickly uncapped it. "Just keep practicing," he encouraged, before dropping into a kneel, and more or less disappearing slightly beneath the table. A second later, there was the clear, distinctive sound of a zipper being pulled. Ven, completely unconcerned with the fact that he'd just unzipped the front of Adam's pants, raised the hand holding the sharpie. And slowly, deliberately, he began to write on the front waistband of Adam's underwear. When at last he pulled back, a very prominent, bold 'Ven' hovered there.
"And there's our first word of the lesson today," he said, before stepping back and recapping the sharpie with a smug, audible snap.
Ooc: Soon. >D Next post.
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shirsharespie
GUEST
SUBJECT IS DORMANT
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Post by shirsharespie on Oct 30, 2010 21:39:55 GMT -5
THREAD END. </3 SECOND TO LAST FLUFF THREAD. Side note: Hangman's Hour is a few months after this one.[/center]
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