faderift | [OPEN] The lovers need to clear the road

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[OPEN] The lovers need to clear the road

WHO: Metaari and YOU!
WHAT: Catch-all for August! But mostly Metaari is blowing up the earth.
WHEN: [ waves hands ]
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Open log! If you want an individual, unrelated thread, just hmu with the idea! Starting in prose but if you want brackets I'll totally switch.

There are a couple of things that do a really good job of calming Metaari down and clearing his mind. One of those is his routine maintenance on his bow, so routine by now that he can just zone out while doing it. The other is fussing with new explosives. It keeps his mind sharp, ready, his fingers nimble--and also, it is a whole lot of fun. Like, a lot of fun.

He always makes sure to find a space that's far away from any of the encampments that circle Skyhold, just in case something goes wrong. Each new contraption gets packed with a bit of colored powder, just so he can see what kind of explosive radius he gets out of the thing. Today, he's working on something that packs a punch but is easy and fast to get together. Something that he can quickly make in the middle of a fight if he needs to.

Conceptually, it's perfect.

Unfortunately for him, Metaari doesn't have the detonation quite right. He's quite a few yards away when he sets it off--except nothing happens. With a frown he tries it again, and still nothing. Not until he starts taking a few steps toward it. Apparently it had to think about it. The explosion certainly has the oomph he's looking for and then some. Metaari gets knocked off his feet, landing with a loud oof as a giant cloud of red powder shoots off in a circle from the epicenter. When it finally settles he's covered in the stuff, enough that when he stands there's a bit of his shape on the ground where he had landed. Where the explosive itself had been is nothing but a charred circle and, well... a bit of missing ground to go along with it, a nice little crater about a yard across.

"Well... shit."

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Cyril can certainly understand how playing with explosives can be relaxing. He can relate to that even more after they've begun working on their shared specialization.

He hears the explosion and can't help but come over to check it out.

"You okay?" he asks his brother's lover. He doesn't want Merrick to end up losing someone important. "Still got all of your fingers and toes?"

Oh, good. Well, he supposes there are worse people to be the first to see him after this mess.

"I'm fine. A little ringing in my ears is the worst of it." And by a little ringing he means there's kind of a lot of ringing. He might actually be shouting. "I feel like I'm yelling. Am I yelling?"

Cyril winces a bit and nods a bit. "Yeah, you are." He frowns a bit. "Do you want to call a healer?" Now there is real concern there, as he's a bit worried that Metaari might need actual help.

The wince is enough of an answer, which is probably a good thing, since hearing is a little thrown off. Metaari squints, watches Cyril's mouth move to try to parse out what he's saying. It's not hard to guess, really. "No, it's fine." Wait, still too loud. Let him try again. "Sorry. I just mean that this happens sometimes. It may be the one drawback to working with explosives. It usually clears itself up in time."

A boom, and red shooting up, have Anders sprinting toward what's happened and wondering if he should really be anywhere near this as his feet override his mind. Instead of devastation, though, he finds a small hole and a red qunari.

Now he slows to a stop and his brain finally catches up. He's an idiot. Others might be coming, and if the qunari had been dead, what then? Anders lifts a hand and rubs his forehead.

"That's one word for the mess. Are you all right?"

Cyril chuckles a bit and then comes a little closer. "I know that," he says after a moment. "Just don't blow off anything important."

In dire need of something to calm her down and clear her mind, Korrin trains with the dummies until she can't any more, then with energy to spare decides to go for a walk. That ought to help, right? Except for the part where a completely unexpected explosion from nearby nearly has her stumbling. Immediately after she regains her footing, Korrin slides out her staff, blurring forward toward that giant cloud of red power.

And...Metaari? Korrin lowers her staff, pretty sure she recognizes her fellow Vashoth through the weird powder. "Metaari? Can you make it over here?" Because she doesn't want to get covered with that red stuff if she doesn't have to, okay. "Are you hurt?"

It's either very romantic or very sad (or maybe both) that Merrick has an idea of what caused the explosion before he even goes to check it out. Sure enough, there is his boyfriend, looking very singed next to a crater, and he sighs.

Once the smoke clears he's at Metaari's side, checking him over for injuries and in general looking both exasperated and faintly amused. He isn't exactly shocked; he's used to Cyril messing around with this kind of stuff.

"So what were you messing around with this time?"

A sharp grin crosses Metaari's face at that--he was able to catch it--and he casts the elf a wink. "Oh, don't you worry about that any. All of the important bits are well and truly protected."

After a moment's hesitation he finally approaches the crater to crouch down next to it, humming thoughtfully. "Haven't had anything quite so big go off on me in some time. Almost forgot what it was like."

Honestly, Metaari is surprised the crowd isn't a little larger already. Maybe the people further down the mountain have just gotten used to small explosions happening. He has seen a fair few of his fellow artificers head down this way when they get to tinkering...

He glances up when Anders arrives and offers a faint smile, shrugging. "Bit of a bruised ego, I think. Some ringing to the ears. Nothing much out of the ordinary."

No, really. All according to... well, not plan. But according to something, anyway.

He lifts a hand at the approaching footsteps, making sure they halt a fair distance away. "Injured pride, nothing more. I wouldn't get much closer yet, if I were you." Not that it looked like she had any plans to do that as it was but... well, a warning can't hurt, just in case.

Metaari glances over his shoulder toward her and grins, teeth bright through the layer of red covering him. "Minor denotation problem. Just waiting to see if any more little booms decide to go off."

Oh, good. Yes. Merrick. That's who he wanted to have see him like this. At least he isn't hurt (this time); no cause for worry, then, just his beloved finding him looking the fool. So it was just another afternoon at Skyhold, then.

He lets out a breath and smiles, his gaze softening almost immediately upon looking down at Merrick. "Oh, just some casual tinkering. Something I can put together easier in the heat of battle. Slight problem with the detonation, however. And by slight I mean I couldn't get the damn thing to go off. It made the decision for me."

Merrick just rolls his eyes, arms crossing over his small chest. He looks Metaari up and down-- no injuries, thankfully, but the qunari is covered in red dust that no cursory cleanup has any hope of removing.

"You're a mess," he says bluntly.

Slipping her staff back into place, Korrin relaxes and shakes her head. At least he's conscious and intact, so she'll just give way to confusion instead. "That was minor? Andraste's ass, I'm not sure I want to know what you'd consider more than that. Well. Maybe. From a distance." Booms are pretty fun, once they're expected, she'd just rather not be in the middle of them.

"...wait, what? You expect more?" That prompts a wary look-over, definitely not liking where this is headed.

"Not expect, just wary. It's always a possibility." He sounds so incredibly nonchalant about it, like he accidentally blows himself up every day and is just used to it at this point.

He doesn't. Well... not anymore, anyway.

Metaari looks back over to Korrin again and motions with his head as he turns to move toward the crater so he can crouch next to it. "Should be good now."

"A bit." Metaari grins down at him and holds his arms out to his side, twisting a little at the waist so he can observe the clean line down his side. His back was perfectly fine. "Could've been worse."

He drops his arms back down to his sides again and winks. "I wanted something small that packs a lot of punch. You could say I was inspired by someone I know. Turns out, it was just as unpredictable."

A light blush dusts Merrick's cheeks and he shakes his head. He moves closer and grasps Metaari's thick arm.

"Come on," he chides. "Let's go to the hot springs."

"Alright. But give me just a second." He gently removes himself from Merrick's grasp to move toward the crater, kneeling at the side so he can reach down in to it for the destroyed explosive. Once it's safely tucked into his pouch so he can examine it later he gets back up, offering his arm to Merrick when he gets near again. "Shall we?"

Feeling curiously light, Merrick takes the proffered arm and allows himself to be escorted to the hot springs. It's so easy, he suddenly realizes, to be by Metaari's side. He doesn't have that trepidation before, that uncertainty, that reticence. It's natural as breathing to walk together, feeling the warmth of the brilliant sun and the crisp chill of the air.

Bathing together in a public place in broad daylight, though? That's...a little different.

Thankfully no one seems to be around, and Merrick finds a spot where he can sit and start removing his boots.

Korrin shakes her head incredulously at all this. She likes you, Metaari, but have some self-preservation. How he can be so calm about it, she has no idea. Glancing over to the crater, she relaxes slightly. "Good to know. What the hell is that red stuff, by the way? Will it come off easily or will Skyhold have a red 'qunari' for a while?"

And instantly, the part of her that enjoys messing with nobles wonders if they can get away with convincing any of them that this is a natural qunari variation. Some might just be naive enough to buy it.

He's probably going to have a nice smear of red powder across his hand when he lets go of Metaari's arm. Sorry about that, Merrick.

Metaari stretches when Merrick sits and he starts by (carefully) yanking his shirt off, wasting no time in getting himself disrobed to take a plunge into the steaming water. He pauses for just a second as he stands, fully naked and unashamed, gazing down at the exposed bits of his body that had gotten hit with the powder. "Hope this doesn't discolor the water permanently."

Not that he has time to think or care about that much. He's stepping into the springs not a moment later, groaning quietly as he submerges himself--well, as much as he can, anyway. If he moved out toward the center he could probably dunk down further, but this was good enough for now.

Merrick just watches Metaari for a while. It's not even sexual; it's just casual, relaxed, completely natural. As someone who is constantly high-strung-- on guard, jittery with nerves, always ready to jump up and strike-- he'd never thought he'd feel this way with another person.

That's not to say he doesn't like what he sees, though. His eyes twinkle with amusement as Metaari sinks into the water, and then he continues to strip down so he can join him. He doesn't get completely naked; his shirt is still on, unbuttoned and hanging loosely on his shoulders as he slowly slides into the water. It's instant bliss, and he sighs as it soothes his taut, tired muscles.

Metaari tips his head forward and cups some of the steaming water into his hands so that he can rub it against his face, scrubbing at the red there. It's hot, but not so much that it burns him. If anything, it feels great. When he lifts his head, there's red dripping down his face, probably making it look like he's bleeding, but he grins through it. "I bet I look great."

"Stunning," Merrick deadpans, rolling his eyes. He wades over to where Metaari is, the water much deeper for him, and points to a nearby rock in an unspoken order to sit.

"Let me do it," he insists.

He laughs and moves toward the rock, obeying without thought as he drops down onto it. His eyes sparkle with delight as he looks toward Merrick, his lips twisting into a grin. "Make sure to get the horns. As well as you can, anyway. It's just as likely that they're just dyed now."

They didn't grab any soap, but Merrick does what he can with just the water and his hands. He sticks his tongue out in concentration as he washes Metaari's hair and face, then works on his horns. Thankfully, the dye seems to be rinsing off well, turning the water pink around them.

"That's most of it," he reports. His hand lingers on Metaari's head, fingernails scratching lightly at his hair.

A low rumble rolls through Metaari's chest as nails scrape against his head and his eyes fall closed. The whole moment had been perfect, with Merrick working the powder off of him, his little tongue sticking out the whole time. He wonders, idly, if Merrick knows he does that.

His hands come out to drape lazily against Merrick's waist and he pulls him closer, eyes still closed as he burrows his face against that small chest. He just holds him there for a while before finally, softly, "I love you."

Just had to say it again.

"It was rather impressive," Cyril replies and gets closer as well. He is tempted to break into asking some technical questions about the composition of the explosives, but he isn't sure if Metaari will catch all of that just yet.

It's startling how easily those words roll off Metaari's tongue and surround Merrick, enveloping him in their effortless warmth. He lets himself enjoy being held, because fuck whoever sees them, this is the happiest Merrick has ever felt in his life.

He presses a kiss to the top of Metaari's head, fully drawn into the qunari's lap from the water. That's his answer right now, actions where those three words escape him.

He's quiet for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth and comfort that he gets from holding Merrick, before he finally lifts his head. His eyes search the other's for, quickly, seeking something, before he finally sucks in a breath. "I want to give you something, but you'll have to let me up so I can go get it."

"I guess I could do that," Merrick teases, and then slides back down into the water. It closes around his shoulders, cocooning him in warmth.

He isn't expecting anything big-- a trinket maybe, or perhaps something practical he can take with him on assignments. Regardless of what it is, he knows he'll appreciate it all the same.

Metaari wades through the water back toward his things and begins to dig through his clothes for what he's looking for. He finally finds it, a leather pouch drawn closed, and moves back toward Merrick. There's a sudden nervous air to him, an uncertainty, and he settles back onto a ledge in the water, managing to sit mostly submerged.

"Now... you probably know as much about the Qun as I do, or as anyone does. Like how generally speaking, it's rare for two to ever enter into a serious relationship. My parents did; they even became Tal-Vashoth together, when my mother became pregnant. But there is a... tradition, I suppose. A way to... commit."

He hesitates for a moment before he finally pulls open the pouch to draw one of the objects from it out. The chain isn't delicate by any means, and at the end of it is the half of a large dragon's tooth. "Each person in the commitment wears half of a dragon's tooth. This is from the beast I helped to fell in the Western Approach. The researcher said that we weren't to touch the body once it was down but... well, I couldn't resist. I... Merrick, it... I was hoping that you would accept this. From me. With me."

Merrick moves closer and eyes the object uncertainly. He reaches forward and touches it, fingertips lightly brushing Metaari's palm. He feels his heart clenching tight inside the cage of his ribs, the breath halting in his lungs.

"You mean..." He looks up at Metaari with an almost worried expression, feeling as if he is dangling on the edge of a precipice, a dizzying fall awaiting him.

He watches with stilled breath as Merrick's fingers brush across the halved tooth, his pulse racing. "I want you as mine, Merrick. And more importantly, I want to be yours. Truly. Committed. To each other."

Please say yes please say yes oh by the Maker he's going to throw up if Merrick doesn't say something soon.

It sounds very much like Metaari is asking Merrick to Bond with him-- something Merrick had never considered, had ever even thought about, had always viewed as this thing that was never meant for him. The suddenness of it has him reeling, but the idea of it? The prospect of being with Metaari forever, to be cherished and protected and cared for and to do those things in return? Creators, the answer is easy.

He closes his hand around the object, his expression relaxing. Was it ever going to be anyone other than this man? Merrick is spirited and wild, a maelstrom, and Metaari is a calm and steady sea-- They shouldn't exist together at the same time, and yet here they are, coming together as something unprecedented and undeniably beautiful.

It's never going to be anyone else. Merrick is so sure of that it takes him by surprise, but it slows to contentment and warm, blissful certainty.

His other hand joins in clutching the tooth and he leans in to press a kiss to it. He then looks up at Metaari and smiles.

Shavera, I have found him. And I cannot help but think you guided me here.

It's as though the air itself breaks around him, the earth heaving a deep sigh of relief as Merrick's hands clasp the tooth. Metaari sighs with it and becomes as light as a feather in the same instant. Love practically radiates from him, as though it were trying to become a beacon, and a grin breaks out across his face.

"Yeah?" A laugh leaves him, short and joyful, and he pulls Merrick closer to him again. "Are there any Dalish customs... well, that you would want to follow? I mean I have had a hand in killing a dragon but if you need me to go catch some wild game or something for you I'd be more than happy to."

Nothing much out of the ordinary. An explosion, not out of the ordinary. Then again, considering qunari, maybe it isn't. Anders shakes his head.

"Do you do this often? Blow up small things? Or have small things blow up on you?" At least the guy isn't hurt. Sometimes things don't entirely backfire. And lack of injury means that Anders doesn't have to reach out and risk getting red all over himself.

Merrick wrinkles his nose. "No," he replies, affronted. "I can catch my own game."

Truthfully, there's nothing in Dalish custom that would even permit them. Everything they are goes against the very core of Dalish beliefs, which are all about continuing the bloodline and restoring what once was. Merrick has no desire to conform to this, and he never has. Since birth, he has always been an outsider-- and the Dalish had done nothing but reject and ostracize him, so why should he try to keep their culture in his life?

He doesn't wish to share these thoughts with Metaari, not right now. Instead he examines the tooth once more, and says wryly, "You know I can't wear something this big, right?"

Metaari laughs at that and leans forward, pressing his lips to Merrick's forehead to ease the wrinkles forming there. He was pretty certain the answer was going to be a big fat no to the question anyway, but it was worth asking, just in case.

He pulls back again at the mention of the size of the tooth and he pauses, giving Merrick a blank look for a moment. He... hadn't actually thought of that. It hadn't seemed so big in his hand, or when he had it split... "Ah. That's... a fair point. Maybe it could be sanded down a bit. I'm sure someone could find a use for the powder..."

"No," Merrick says again. "Even if it's whittled down, I want all of it."

He presses close, enjoying the warmth of their skin together. "I can...put it on a cord, pull it tight so it's close against my throat," he mumbles. "It'll be--easier that way, safer."

The tips of his ears flush red.

Metaari grins and brushes his fingers along Merrick's neck, pausing when he gets to the back. Around the throat, huh? That would make sense, and suit Merrick perfectly. "I'll leave that to you, then, so you can get it to a size you're comfortable with."

His palm cradles the back of Merrick's neck, thumb to one side and the rest of his fingers to the other so that he can apply a bit of pressure, just so. "It'll make sure I'm always close, even if I'm away."

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[OPEN] The lovers need to clear the road

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...I thought I tagged this, I'm sorry!

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