[ Ryan isn't a small person by any means, but he's skinny, and the tattoos seem to take up a disproportionate amount of space on his thin frame, by Noh-Varr's standards. He reaches a finger towards Ryan's back, hovering over the white bird. He almost asks if he may, but decides against it. He isn't usually so cautious, especially not with touch like this, but these tattoos are meaningful to Ryan, and he wants to treat them--and their owner--with the care they deserve.
His fingers trace the edge of the white bird's head, the beak, the beady eye, then down to the wing. He looks at the book. what is its title? ]
[He can't help the small, reflexive shiver that runs down his spine when Noh-Varr's fingers trace along the tattoo; it's not often that he leaves more skin bared than usual, and the feeling is one he hasn't been used to lately. Ryan absolutely isn't complaining, though, and after a moment he's managed to relax more thoroughly. On close inspection, the book the white raven's perching on is a collection of Poe's poems- it seemed thematically appropriate.]
With the birds-- ravens, in a lot of myths, are bad omens. Signs of death, though in a couple other myths they're tricksters or creators. They're actually really highly intelligent birds, though, they can solve problems and manipulate other scavengers into helping them feed, that kind of thing.
[His tone's awfully fond, really.]
So I picked them for the intelligence and associations with death. That one's white to go along with one particular myth that they're actually souls.
[ Noh-Varr knows that Edgar Allan Poe's most famous work has something to do with a raven, and not much else, so he nods along to Ryan's words, his fingers tracing to the shoulder with Death. That one seems simple enough. The other one, and he has to encourage Ryan to tilt his body a bit to see it better, is the Tower, which he isn't at all familiar with. ]
A tower? [ A beat, then, perhaps a little wryly: ] More death?
[ He understands it's meaningful to someone with long experience ferrying people from one world to the next; in a sense, what Ryan can do isn't so far removed from America Chavez's dimension-hopping powers. But it still strikes him as...grim. Noh-Varr doesn't think of Ryan as a bad omen; it hasn't completely occurred to him that Ryan might think of himself that way. ]
They're tarot cards- used for divination, if you're not familiar. I managed to bring my deck when I signed on if you want me to show you sometime.
[Another thing he only rarely shows others. Card-reading is the one real superstitious activity he allows himself, and only because it's worked; sure, he'll also claim his cards are assholes to him, but if they weren't then he'd be suspicious about whether the results were accurate.]
The Death card doesn't exactly symbolize it literally, either. It just means an end to something, it's a metaphorical death, you know? And the Tower is--
[There he has to pause, fumbling for the words.]
It's another thing people see as a bad sign, destruction, but that's not all it is. It's chaos and disruption and change. And that's not necessarily for the worst, yeah?
[And, given those explanations, Noh-Varr might be able to guess why Ryan is attached to those cards in particular. It's very similar to his feelings about death in general, really: something people fear, see as a negative thing, when in all honesty it's not so bad. There's more depth than the ill omens people see when they look at them; ends mean new beginnings, change is complex.]
Divination. [ He tries to keep the huff of amusement out of his voice, but doesn't entirely succeed. He's seen Loki 'divinate' before, and it wasn't impressive. But he sits still and listens to Ryan explain, continues to trace the outlines of the marks in the skin. He understand what Ryan is driving at, even if he doesn't quite get the need to stamp all this symbolism so permanently. Death is something Ryan feels strongly about, which is understandable, given his
Gently, he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the bare skin of Ryan's nape, pushing the messy tumble of hair out of the way. ]
Adaptability is a form of strength. [ It's spoken in a murmur as he pulls back, finger now trailing the line of Ryan's spine. ]
[That kiss gets a low hum from him, a contented little murmur of a sound, as his head tilts forward to better expose the nape of his neck to Noh-Varr's mouth. Although Ryan still holds his discarded shirt to his chest to cover it, he's more relaxed by now, not so aware of the exposure anymore; what he is more aware of is the sensation of breath against his neck before Noh-Varr pulls back, and of the shivers that run down his spine and make his bare skin prickle when that line is traced.]
Ah-
... yeah, that's-- that's the practical one. [There's a soft breath of a laugh, almost sheepish, at the way he trips over the words at first.] Mentioned my artist friend is a mage, right? The runes are a ward against possession and malevolent spirits, they're just... only effective to a certain point.
[They're definitely more than just ink, though. As Noh-Varr's touch trails over them he might notice they feel warmer than the surrounding skin, and that they almost seem to thrum beneath the pad of his finger in a slow, steady rhythm.]
[ His fingers reach forward and gently walk up and down Ryan's ribcage, testing. He admires the runes, the way they warm his skin like embers. ]
What's the 'certain point'?
[ Ryan's file describes him as a 'functional point of crossover', and Noh-Varr isn't certain if that's in a figurative sense--that it's easy for spirits to communicate with him--or in a more literal way, that his body is easily taken.
The second option strikes a chord inside of him, but he says nothing. Ryan can't see the way his mouth thins at the thought. ]
They discourage really weak ones, basically, but- well. Hard to make anything strong enough to counter my nature. We kind of hoped they'd be a good ward against possession.
[He's told very few here that he has no defense against it, largely because it's such a huge weakness to anything capable of exploiting that. No way to prevent his body being taken, no mental defenses either-- the wrong person could do a lot of damage if they realized the opportunity, and his own weaknesses are not something Ryan likes to dwell on. He's a little more tense, again, and his posture has subtly shifted to where he's close to curling in on himself.]
Fortunately a lot of spirits are pretty weak, though. These help.
Noh-Varr's arms wrap around Ryan's middle in earnest, low enough to stay clear of Ryan's own arms tucked up to his chest. He folds back into a seating position, bringing his knees up on either side so that Ryan can recline into him. ]
Have you been possessed before...? If I can ask--what is it like?
[ He wants to know, even if it's painful, even if it's too similar. People who know, who understand, are rare. ]
[Ryan takes that opportunity without a second thought- leaning into him is comfortable, having his arms around him even more so, and he breathes out a content little sigh as he settles.]
I have, yeah- used to do it a lot, with the ones that lived with me. That I trusted. Couple of them missed having bodies, being able to actually interact with things, and-- well, and I hated running errands, it worked out.
[There's an amused touch to his tone, though it quickly fades when he continues.]
It's like-- being stuck in your own head. Seeing everything through your own eyes, like always, only you can't do anything, you don't have any control... you're just sort of a passenger, I guess. Never minded it much when I allowed it, I'd kind of tune out for a while, but when you don't allow it--
[No further explanation needed, really. It's more than a little terrifying.]
[ Can Ryan feel the way he tenses in time to the explanation? The reflexive tightness in his belly, in sympathy? He lets Ryan finish, lets a minute stretch between them as he pets Ryan's hair, reclines himself into the pillows. ]
When I was in prison, I--found out, if you will, that illegal aliens don't have rights in the United States of America. [ There's a kernel of laughter in his voice, because it's a double-entendre on the word 'aliens' that he thinks Ryan will be able to appreciate. ] The Warden of that place, he hacked my nanites.
[ He lets that sink in. ]
When he wasn't--using me, for security or for defense, he kept me in a tank, or in my cell, in solitary.
[ His voice remains calm and neutral, as he recounts what are now painful memories, but only that--memories. ]
To be in your body, but not inhabiting it--I know what that's like. You're braver than I to offer it.
[ He holds Ryan close. He's never told anyone that. ]
[The way he tenses doesn't go unnoticed-- and he'll find it matched as Ryan listens, finding one of Noh-Varr's hands and covering it with his own in a silent, empathetic gesture. Much as he hopes that it's an experience very few others share, it's... nice to know he's not alone in it, in all honesty. People like to think of possession as the sort of thing you're not aware of, and he likes to just let them.
When Noh's finished, Ryan shifts slightly in his arms, the need to stay covered forgotten as he turns to the side so that he can slide an arm around him in return. Clearly he's used to being a bit of a human pretzel, given how much taller he tends to be-- when he rests his head on the Kree's shoulder, nudges affectionately up against the curve of his neck, it's an easy shift despite the bit of awkwardness involved in making it work.]
...much as I'd rather you didn't understand, I'm- kind of glad somebody does. It's bad enough to deal with, but having to try to explain some parts of that-- you know what I mean. I'm sorry you do.
[The rest-- the rest comes out before he can really reconsider.]
It's how I died, that last time. Something using me to get through from the other side. Kind of the equivalent of forcing the door off the hinges when someone won't unlock it for you.
[ The comfort found in sharing is mutual, then. Noh-Varr lets Ryan turn, saying nothing when the sharp angles of the other man's body dig into him. It pays off when Ryan tucks his head into the crook of his neck. From this angle, with Ryan's chest half-facing him, he can see that the t-shirt is being held up, as if to preserve some modesty. But Ryan doesn't have breasts, which are typically hidden by human girls; is there another tattoo there that Ryan is trying to hide? Noh-Varr doesn't press, instead dropping a kiss against the human's hair. ]
I'm sorry as well. [ He doesn't quite get the analogy Ryan is attempting to make, with the door flying off its hinges, so he tries to clarify: ] It is physically painful for you, possession, or was it only in that specific instance? Or do you mean you succumbed to overwhelming psychic pain?
...both, I think? I can- well, they can touch me, too, when they're intangible to everyone else. So using me to cross from where it was trapped, to occupy the same space as other spirits-- when I said it went through I was being literal.
[One hand reflexively goes to his chest, as though there were a physical pang at the explanation; there never is, but the motion is entirely thoughtless, instinctive.]
It doesn't hurt unless it's forced, and in that case- it was crossing a barrier it wasn't meant to. Had to break through.
[ He nods, and he certainly doesn't miss the gesture Ryan makes. When he reaches to cover Ryan's hand with his own, it's much more deliberate, and slow, the gesture itself asking for permission. He doesn't move to actually pull Ryan's shirt away, merely hovering his hand over the one holding it up. ]
You were brave. To keep going after that.
[ And he can respect that. When the Warden had been controlling him, he'd been aware mostly of constant, mind-numbing pain, all of his nanites attacking him from the inside-out, until he was reduced to a shell, barely lucid, making himself a home out of pain. Anything to keep himself going. ]
[His hand tenses noticeably beneath Noh-Varr's, but he doesn't move to push his hand away or to allow him permission to go any further; for the moment, his own remains still.]
I didn't want to let that ruin it. Part of my job was helping spirits communicate if they needed it, I couldn't just- stop, like that. And it helped sort of-- remind me it wasn't always like that, I guess, that the rest of the time it was fine. Took the edge off a little.
[Ryan takes in a slow, steady breath, exhales it in the same way, and then glances up to him with a somewhat uncertain look.]
You probably don't want to know. [He figures Noh can tell what he means, but the little twitch of his fingers clinging to the fabric makes it more clear regardless. It's weird, and he'd been weirded out by finding out about Ryan's sense in the first place.]
[ It would not have occured to Noh-Varr, after his run-in with the Warden, to allow himself to be piggybacked on again in order to 'remind himself it wasn't always like that'. Maybe because, unlike Ryan, he'd never known it another way, had never known it was something that could be useful. Ryan found meaning in his ability to ferry the dead. Noh-Varr finds the idea repulsive, and Ryan either brave or particularly deranged. (The line is often a thin one, in his experience.)
As soon as Ryan addresses him he can see that the other man is misinterpreting the nature of Noh-Varr's hesitation, faced with his power and his connection to death. Noh-Varr didn't find it weird. Noh-Varr has seen too much of the vast multiverse to consider anything 'weird'.
He found it invasive, disquieting, and a part of him still does--and now, Ryan knows why. He doesn't actually speak to correct any of this, however, instead planting a kiss on the crown of Ryan's head again, reassuring and calm. ]
I always want to know about you. You're interesting. [ His tone is measured and markedly more cheerful than before. ] But I won't pry. It belongs to you.
[ He holds true to that, his hand dropping harmlessly back to Ryan's abdomen, giving him entirely free reign. ]
[The reassurance helps, as does the way he backs off; this isn't something Ryan has ever actually shown anyone, for the same reasons (or maybe just because of the reasons) that he hasn't told anyone else what killed him. They go hand in hand: he can't really acknowledge the mark without also involving how it got there, not when it's a fairly unique kind of thing, and so he's said nothing about both instead.
Ultimately, though, he decides that he may as well. It'd be good to have someone from whom he has nothing else to hide, and after this conversation, after he's shown he's willing to let it go if Ryan wants-- he's willing enough, now.]
It's- a little weird, fair warning.
[He manages a faint, wry smile with that as he shifts, straightening up a bit so Noh-Varr can actually see before he finally sets the shirt aside-- and it's instantly clear, stark as it is against his pale skin. There appears to be a hole in the middle of his chest, centered just below his collarbone; it could be mistaken for another tattoo, if not for the way that light should reflect off of it and doesn't. Instead it's pure pitch black, the color fading away from its edges like it's a splotch of liquid ink, with nothing at all visible past it save for that darkness.
Ryan's not quite looking at him, just stealing a furtive glance or two at his face.]
[ He takes the warning for what he suspects it is, which is completely unnecessary: and he's right, when Ryan's hand falls away and he's left with a hole.
It's magical in nature, and therefore beyond his immediate understanding, but he doesn't find it ugly--only a bit unsettling to look at directly, though he suspects that will wane over time. ]
Does it hurt you...?
[ It's his most pressing concern, and the one, in his mind, that really matters. If it does cause Ryan pain or harm, he seems to be hiding it well, but Noh-Varr knows for a fact that people can often bear more than they let on, physically or otherwise. His expression is curious, perhaps tainted by his worry for his friend. He lifts his hand again, but doesn't move to touch the hole, instead laying his palm gently a few inches below it, steadying. ]
[That question is what makes him sure he's made the right decision. Ryan had expected curiosity, had feared revulsion-- and what he gets is concern instead, the immediate focus placed not on that mark but on how it affects him. It brings a small, reassuring smile to his face as he gives his head a shake.]
No. Technically it's barely even there-- on a physical level, it's just skin deep. Points of planar crossover just... get a little weird, you might not want to touch it.
There's no danger, that I know of. It's- it's not technically a point of crossover in itself, all of me is-- this is kind of just a representation, I guess? A mark that got left when I died.
[He shrugs slightly. The particulars, he can really only guess at.]
Mostly I just meant that it feels pretty strange. Nothing goes all the way through, it won't let that happen.
[ He nods once again, sweeter this time, adjusting their positions slightly so he can lower his mouth to Ryan's shoulder, kissing the skin over the tarot card. ]
Thank you for showing me.
[ The tattoos, the mark, Ryan's pain--all of it. Finding someone to share burdens with is difficult. He has no intention of deploying all of his baggage on the human, or accepting all of Ryan's on himself; that is, in his mind, why he would take more than one partner. It spreads the pain, and the weight is eased.
For this moment, with Ryan a warm stripe along his front, Noh-Varr is content. ]
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unfavoured
no subject
His fingers trace the edge of the white bird's head, the beak, the beady eye, then down to the wing. He looks at the book. what is its title? ]
Explain to me. The meaning.
no subject
With the birds-- ravens, in a lot of myths, are bad omens. Signs of death, though in a couple other myths they're tricksters or creators. They're actually really highly intelligent birds, though, they can solve problems and manipulate other scavengers into helping them feed, that kind of thing.
[His tone's awfully fond, really.]
So I picked them for the intelligence and associations with death. That one's white to go along with one particular myth that they're actually souls.
no subject
A tower? [ A beat, then, perhaps a little wryly: ] More death?
[ He understands it's meaningful to someone with long experience ferrying people from one world to the next; in a sense, what Ryan can do isn't so far removed from America Chavez's dimension-hopping powers. But it still strikes him as...grim. Noh-Varr doesn't think of Ryan as a bad omen; it hasn't completely occurred to him that Ryan might think of himself that way. ]
no subject
[Another thing he only rarely shows others. Card-reading is the one real superstitious activity he allows himself, and only because it's worked; sure, he'll also claim his cards are assholes to him, but if they weren't then he'd be suspicious about whether the results were accurate.]
The Death card doesn't exactly symbolize it literally, either. It just means an end to something, it's a metaphorical death, you know? And the Tower is--
[There he has to pause, fumbling for the words.]
It's another thing people see as a bad sign, destruction, but that's not all it is. It's chaos and disruption and change. And that's not necessarily for the worst, yeah?
[And, given those explanations, Noh-Varr might be able to guess why Ryan is attached to those cards in particular. It's very similar to his feelings about death in general, really: something people fear, see as a negative thing, when in all honesty it's not so bad. There's more depth than the ill omens people see when they look at them; ends mean new beginnings, change is complex.]
no subject
Gently, he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the bare skin of Ryan's nape, pushing the messy tumble of hair out of the way. ]
Adaptability is a form of strength. [ It's spoken in a murmur as he pulls back, finger now trailing the line of Ryan's spine. ]
Is this the practical one?
no subject
Ah-
... yeah, that's-- that's the practical one. [There's a soft breath of a laugh, almost sheepish, at the way he trips over the words at first.] Mentioned my artist friend is a mage, right? The runes are a ward against possession and malevolent spirits, they're just... only effective to a certain point.
[They're definitely more than just ink, though. As Noh-Varr's touch trails over them he might notice they feel warmer than the surrounding skin, and that they almost seem to thrum beneath the pad of his finger in a slow, steady rhythm.]
no subject
What's the 'certain point'?
[ Ryan's file describes him as a 'functional point of crossover', and Noh-Varr isn't certain if that's in a figurative sense--that it's easy for spirits to communicate with him--or in a more literal way, that his body is easily taken.
The second option strikes a chord inside of him, but he says nothing. Ryan can't see the way his mouth thins at the thought. ]
no subject
[He's told very few here that he has no defense against it, largely because it's such a huge weakness to anything capable of exploiting that. No way to prevent his body being taken, no mental defenses either-- the wrong person could do a lot of damage if they realized the opportunity, and his own weaknesses are not something Ryan likes to dwell on. He's a little more tense, again, and his posture has subtly shifted to where he's close to curling in on himself.]
Fortunately a lot of spirits are pretty weak, though. These help.
no subject
Noh-Varr's arms wrap around Ryan's middle in earnest, low enough to stay clear of Ryan's own arms tucked up to his chest. He folds back into a seating position, bringing his knees up on either side so that Ryan can recline into him. ]
Have you been possessed before...? If I can ask--what is it like?
[ He wants to know, even if it's painful, even if it's too similar. People who know, who understand, are rare. ]
no subject
I have, yeah- used to do it a lot, with the ones that lived with me. That I trusted. Couple of them missed having bodies, being able to actually interact with things, and-- well, and I hated running errands, it worked out.
[There's an amused touch to his tone, though it quickly fades when he continues.]
It's like-- being stuck in your own head. Seeing everything through your own eyes, like always, only you can't do anything, you don't have any control... you're just sort of a passenger, I guess. Never minded it much when I allowed it, I'd kind of tune out for a while, but when you don't allow it--
[No further explanation needed, really. It's more than a little terrifying.]
no subject
When I was in prison, I--found out, if you will, that illegal aliens don't have rights in the United States of America. [ There's a kernel of laughter in his voice, because it's a double-entendre on the word 'aliens' that he thinks Ryan will be able to appreciate. ] The Warden of that place, he hacked my nanites.
[ He lets that sink in. ]
When he wasn't--using me, for security or for defense, he kept me in a tank, or in my cell, in solitary.
[ His voice remains calm and neutral, as he recounts what are now painful memories, but only that--memories. ]
To be in your body, but not inhabiting it--I know what that's like. You're braver than I to offer it.
[ He holds Ryan close. He's never told anyone that. ]
no subject
When Noh's finished, Ryan shifts slightly in his arms, the need to stay covered forgotten as he turns to the side so that he can slide an arm around him in return. Clearly he's used to being a bit of a human pretzel, given how much taller he tends to be-- when he rests his head on the Kree's shoulder, nudges affectionately up against the curve of his neck, it's an easy shift despite the bit of awkwardness involved in making it work.]
...much as I'd rather you didn't understand, I'm- kind of glad somebody does. It's bad enough to deal with, but having to try to explain some parts of that-- you know what I mean. I'm sorry you do.
[The rest-- the rest comes out before he can really reconsider.]
It's how I died, that last time. Something using me to get through from the other side. Kind of the equivalent of forcing the door off the hinges when someone won't unlock it for you.
no subject
I'm sorry as well. [ He doesn't quite get the analogy Ryan is attempting to make, with the door flying off its hinges, so he tries to clarify: ] It is physically painful for you, possession, or was it only in that specific instance? Or do you mean you succumbed to overwhelming psychic pain?
no subject
[One hand reflexively goes to his chest, as though there were a physical pang at the explanation; there never is, but the motion is entirely thoughtless, instinctive.]
It doesn't hurt unless it's forced, and in that case- it was crossing a barrier it wasn't meant to. Had to break through.
no subject
You were brave. To keep going after that.
[ And he can respect that. When the Warden had been controlling him, he'd been aware mostly of constant, mind-numbing pain, all of his nanites attacking him from the inside-out, until he was reduced to a shell, barely lucid, making himself a home out of pain. Anything to keep himself going. ]
no subject
I didn't want to let that ruin it. Part of my job was helping spirits communicate if they needed it, I couldn't just- stop, like that. And it helped sort of-- remind me it wasn't always like that, I guess, that the rest of the time it was fine. Took the edge off a little.
[Ryan takes in a slow, steady breath, exhales it in the same way, and then glances up to him with a somewhat uncertain look.]
You probably don't want to know. [He figures Noh can tell what he means, but the little twitch of his fingers clinging to the fabric makes it more clear regardless. It's weird, and he'd been weirded out by finding out about Ryan's sense in the first place.]
no subject
As soon as Ryan addresses him he can see that the other man is misinterpreting the nature of Noh-Varr's hesitation, faced with his power and his connection to death. Noh-Varr didn't find it weird. Noh-Varr has seen too much of the vast multiverse to consider anything 'weird'.
He found it invasive, disquieting, and a part of him still does--and now, Ryan knows why. He doesn't actually speak to correct any of this, however, instead planting a kiss on the crown of Ryan's head again, reassuring and calm. ]
I always want to know about you. You're interesting. [ His tone is measured and markedly more cheerful than before. ] But I won't pry. It belongs to you.
[ He holds true to that, his hand dropping harmlessly back to Ryan's abdomen, giving him entirely free reign. ]
no subject
Ultimately, though, he decides that he may as well. It'd be good to have someone from whom he has nothing else to hide, and after this conversation, after he's shown he's willing to let it go if Ryan wants-- he's willing enough, now.]
It's- a little weird, fair warning.
[He manages a faint, wry smile with that as he shifts, straightening up a bit so Noh-Varr can actually see before he finally sets the shirt aside-- and it's instantly clear, stark as it is against his pale skin. There appears to be a hole in the middle of his chest, centered just below his collarbone; it could be mistaken for another tattoo, if not for the way that light should reflect off of it and doesn't. Instead it's pure pitch black, the color fading away from its edges like it's a splotch of liquid ink, with nothing at all visible past it save for that darkness.
Ryan's not quite looking at him, just stealing a furtive glance or two at his face.]
no subject
It's magical in nature, and therefore beyond his immediate understanding, but he doesn't find it ugly--only a bit unsettling to look at directly, though he suspects that will wane over time. ]
Does it hurt you...?
[ It's his most pressing concern, and the one, in his mind, that really matters. If it does cause Ryan pain or harm, he seems to be hiding it well, but Noh-Varr knows for a fact that people can often bear more than they let on, physically or otherwise. His expression is curious, perhaps tainted by his worry for his friend. He lifts his hand again, but doesn't move to touch the hole, instead laying his palm gently a few inches below it, steadying. ]
wtf I know I wrote a response to this yesterday
No. Technically it's barely even there-- on a physical level, it's just skin deep. Points of planar crossover just... get a little weird, you might not want to touch it.
no subject
'Might not'? Is the danger real, or imagined?
[ He suspects the answer might more worryingly be 'I don't know'. ]
no subject
[He shrugs slightly. The particulars, he can really only guess at.]
Mostly I just meant that it feels pretty strange. Nothing goes all the way through, it won't let that happen.
no subject
Thank you for showing me.
[ The tattoos, the mark, Ryan's pain--all of it. Finding someone to share burdens with is difficult. He has no intention of deploying all of his baggage on the human, or accepting all of Ryan's on himself; that is, in his mind, why he would take more than one partner. It spreads the pain, and the weight is eased.
For this moment, with Ryan a warm stripe along his front, Noh-Varr is content. ]