aionlogs | [open] post-imprisonment log

Entry tags:

liem talbott: champion

[open] post-imprisonment log

WHO: Liem & you!
WHAT: Liem is released from the naughty-Kenoma dungeons
WHERE: The Citadel, possibly Achamoth proper
WHEN: After his release on Firaseri 6th
WARNINGS: References to Liem’s imprisonment, including brainwashing, torture, & self-harm

I. The Wounded Option

[Liem is released from the Citadel’s dungeons without fanfare, staggering from his audience with the Regent back to his own rooms and sequestering himself there to recover from the most immediate after-effects of Dionys’s ministrations—or to at least attempt to. Rest is out of the question; the stings and aches throbbing through him would make sleep a struggle even if he could close his eyes without being transported immediately back into Dionys’s clutches. His mind feels like a sieve, his thoughts slipping away from him like water and leaving him only with the jagged edges of the past ten days. The best he can do is nurse his filthy and abused body while he tries to piece his mind back together.

He spends a lot of time alone over the ensuing days, but the observant or well-informed may have noted his return from the occasional servant delivering food or medicine to his room, or from hearing the sounds of activity within it. The sounds of running water are especially obvious, should one happen to walk past while he’s washing.

But of course, he has to tend to his injuries all over again once he’s stripped off the bandages and washed away the salve. Some of them are easier to reach than others, especially given the lingering pain involved in moving around too much. After bandaging his arms and tending the half-healed cuts and bruises on his chest, a short hiss punctuates his attempts to minister the lashes on his back.

Any knock on his door is meet with a brief silence, followed by the door cracking open and Liem’s dark, tired eyes peering out from it.]

Can I help you?

II. The Insomnia Option

[It doesn’t take all that long for restlessness to lure Liem out from the confines of his rooms. The walls start to creep in on him after just a couple days; the quiet starts to become oppressive. It’s too much like his cell in the depths of the Citadel, and it’s too much like his cell in the cathedral back home. Leaving the barren stone and cold, empty bed behind, he ventures out into the Citadel at large, seeking something to keep him occupied.

a. The middle of the night is a strange time to find anyone in the kitchens, but that’s where Liem is right now, smelling of oranges and cinnamon, his sleeves folded back to the elbows and his head bent over a small pie filled with some kind of soft white cheese. Flour dusts the bruises and half-healed bites on his wrists and forearms as he carefully lays a lattice of dough strips over the top, lifting his eyes from his work only briefly as he hears someone come in.

b. Regardless of how sleepless his nights (and his days) have been, or how residual aches from his injuries still plague his waking hours, Liem still turns to training as something that can occupy him even while he’s only operating at 50% at best. Target practice is something he could do even in his sleep, so the deep shadows beneath his eyes and the lethargy in his movements don’t stop him from finding a target to practise with in the pre-dawn hours when most of the Citadel is still dreaming. Stress and exhaustion have made him jumpy, though; the sound of approaching footsteps filters into his awareness slowly, and then in a rush all at once as he whirls to point his crossbow at whoever just walked in.

c. During the day, Liem mostly keeps out of the way in parts of the Citadel that don’t see much use. There’s a spare room near the top of a tower that stays empty for hours at a time, and it’s here that he can be found curled up on a window seat, gazing out of the narrow window while he scratches at a notebook with a stick of charcoal. Or at least, that’s what he’s been spending much of the afternoon doing, if the formless doodles and patterns scrawled across the pages are any indication. Liem himself isn’t available for comment, leaned as he is against the cool stone wall in the grip of a shallow and uneasy sleep.]

III. Wildcard

[Liem can be found around the Citadel or, later on, even out in Achamoth itself. His inbox is also open for post-imprisonment communion! Feel free to hit me up on plurk at Sporelett or DM me on discord if you want to hash out something else.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Liem watches—first politely, then as intently as a cat watching backyard birds—as Matt demonstrates what it looks like for him to cast a spell. The noise in the club makes it difficult to hear the change in Matt’s pulse or breathing, but he can see the change in the subtle rise and fall of his chest and shoulders, in the flutter of his lashes and the flush touching his cheeks. As his glass disappears from view, Liem forgets for a moment that he’s even holding his.

His eyes linger momentarily on the empty space between Matt’s fingers.]

I’ve never seen an invisibility spell cast like that before.

[When he slides his gaze back up to Matt’s, his expression has gone from appraising to coyly appreciative.]

You have a very pretty blush.

Well, like I said, [ as he gets his breath back, ] I pieced this system together on my own, from books and things. So even if we were from the same world, there's a chance it'd look funny to you.

[ Matt tracks the change in Liem's expression with curiosity. A flicker of heat in his belly, already molten and shimmering from the small display of magic. And when he speaks--

Matt flushes a little pinker. ]

Thanks. [ He likes that turn of phrase, "pretty blush." It's flattering, of course, but it's also charmingly old-fashioned. Matt carefully raises his invisible glass, his lips finding the rim, and sips. ] I'll tell you something else about my magic, if you want to hear it.

[Liem is gratified just as much by the slight deepening of Matt’s flush as by the thanks he offers. He only rarely has the opportunity to witness his blush (or the added pleasure of causing it), which is a shame, because it looks quite charming on him.]

Please do. I’m very curious.

[He eyes Matt with amusement as he takes a sip from his invisible drink, looking for all the world like he’s just miming the activity. The casting might have been unorthodox, but the spell itself looks to have been executed flawlessly. He wonders what kind of uses someone like Matt had for an invisibility spell back in his own world.]

[ Matt says, again, ] Well ...

So energy is channeled into an outcome, and that's magic. The energy can come from anywhere--emotions, mental focus, asking spirits to intercede--there's overlap between these things, of course. For me, the way I first learned magic ...

The theory is that one very accessible, very efficient way of generating magical energy is through sex.

[ Matt doesn't actually want to keep drinking from a glass he can't see: he lets the spell drop, producing something like a sigh in the air around it. ]

[While Matt talks, Liem drinks—and he considers himself fortunate that he has a lifetime of experience keeping his composure in an entire spectrum of social situations, so when he actually reaches the conclusion of the explanation, his reaction is confined to a slight lift of his eyebrows over the rim of his glass. He can’t quite tell if Matt is being serious, or hitting on him, or both.

What kind of books was he reading as a teenager, for that to be his introduction into magical theory?]

Are you saying that you do your best magic in the bedroom?

[He says this with a direct look that implies either complete earnestness, or very deadpan humour.]

That seems like it could be inconvenient to set up.

[ Matt is currently experiencing the jitters that always come with disclosure, on the rare occasions he's attempted it. He's not sure if anyone here really knows how he learned magic, apart from the Regent who seems to know everything. He hasn't even told Ciel. ]

It was in the beginning. [ His lips twitch. ] Before I learned how to channel through my body more generally. But no, I'm not saying that exactly. It's more like ...

Everything has a story, like you said. And the story about pleasure that some religions tell is less about shame, more like ... "Let me meditate on the God of love, oh God who is the forest of flowers. Give me higher intellect, and let the God of love illuminate my mind." [ His lips curl in a sheepish smile. ] Pleasure isn't just heat, it's light too. It's a way of connecting with the divine, and with each other. And that's why it works so well for magic.

Oh, I see.

[Like a light flicking on, Liem’s steady expression lifts into a smile of understanding. It’s not an expression born of kinship; the doctrines of Taldor’s patron of love have never been his. After all, his life has been devoted since boyhood to a far sterner god and a far more unforgiving purpose. But Shelyn’s worship brightened and gentled civilized life like flower-filled gardens dotting the grid of a well-organized city, and although love’s domain was never his business, he recognizes its worth.]

It’s as the saying goes, yes? “Love is the greatest of all things.” Older than civilization, more enduring than fate.

[Truthfully, connection to the divine through sexual release sounded more worthy of the Spirit of Abandon than the Eternal Rose, but the domain of love was certainly within her providence—carnal love just as much as any other kind.]

[ By leaps and bounds, Liem's reaction is way better than anything Matt could have imagined. Maybe he misjudged him--or at least, misjudged the exact timbre of his religiosity. He smiles in a slow bloom. ]

Maybe not the greatest, [ he says modestly. These days, it's hard not to acknowledge the kingdom-crumbling, matter-unmaking force of entropy. ] But it's definitely powerful. I didn't understand all that when I first started with magic, but I always kind of thought of sex differently than other people did. "Felt" more than thought, I guess, but.

[ He takes another drink from his glass, leaving it half depleted. ]

That's why hooking up with you was ... I mean, I know the timing wasn't ideal, but it's important to me, that kind of thing. It has meaning.

[Liem warms a little at the tenor of Matt's reaction—the slow-blooming pleasure of it. It feels good to have connected with him in this small, unexpected way, about a subject that is so clearly close to his heart. He senses that this isn't something he talks about with many people, which lends the revelation extra importance in his mind.]

You feel that way about all sex?

[He lifts his glass, regarding Matt curiously as he sips at its amber contents, then lowers it abruptly as sudden alertness makes him straighten slightly in his seat.]

Oh…

[He squashes the sudden urge to apologise (I'm sorry it was with me.), and spends a moment in pensive silence instead, a slight flush darkening his cheeks in the low light.]

I didn't comport myself especially well on that occasion. But I'm glad that something about your time in Venera could be meaningful.

[Gods know even now, after coming to regret his actions there, Liem still can't imagine feeling good about what they were sent to that city to do.]

It was for me as well.

[ Matt answers Liem's question with a gentle nod and that glowing expression, tentative but undimmed. His eyes are drawn briefly to Liem's cheeks, the dusk on dusk of his coloring in this dimly lit space, before they flick back to meet his gaze.

Speaking of pretty blushes. Matt's never seen anything quite like that. ]

I thought you comported yourself great, [ he says with a crooked smile. ] I mean, everything that happened there was meaningful, [ it would be shitty to Flora to imply otherwise, ] but what we did was ...

It was different. It was good.

So I'm glad you liked it too.

[Granted, meaningful isn't exactly the word Liem meant in that particular context. Obviously everything they did in Venera ended up being quite significant to the people whose lives they upended, not to mention to everyone involved in their captures and executions. He still remembers how unmanned Minegishi had been because of it at the time—and how he still seemed to be, weeks after the fact.

So fulfilling would have been a better word. He couldn't really say uncomplicated, but Matt's right; it was good. He offers a small smile back in return.]

I appreciate you saying so.

[He still thinks he embarrassed himself at least a little, and he definitely isn't proud of the fact that he ended up having sex with Matt on a rooftop mid-assignment, but at least the experience was enjoyable.]

Generally speaking, I try to avoid having sex in semi-public places. Even if it's tempting in the moment.

[ Matt laughs, again with a mixture of surprise and tenderness. A bit of a thrill, too: one that starts at the base of his spine and crawls up, up, coiling around his heart and shuddering down his arm. Warming his veins down to the tip end of his missing fingers. It's a heady consideration, the idea that something about him--about him and Liem--overcame Liem's natural hesitations. Like, all rationalizations and morality and appropriateness aside, is there anything hotter than someone finding you so irresistible that even when they know they shouldn't, they just have to have you? ]

That is ... noted. And super flattering.

[ Matt knocks back the rest of his drink at a go. Gasps. Offers Liem a smile. ]

What about dancing in semi-public places? Do you do that?

[A wry smile slowly steals over Liem’s expression as he regards Matt from his place next to him on the couch. He hadn’t meant to be flattering, but he’ll certainly take that, if that’s how he wants to interpret Liem’s poor head for liquor and latent desperation for intimacy. Besides, he’s right to suppose that he’s at least a little bit irresistible, at least by Liem’s standards.]

Is that what the people in here are doing?

[He takes a more modest drink from his glass, not being quite willing to follow Matt’s example and down the rest all at once, and lifts an eyebrow. He’s used to dances involving a bit more structure and a little less gyrating, but perhaps that’s just his Taldor-centric bias coming out.]

Give me a moment to finish my drink, and you can find out.

[ Matt huffs, amused. ]

I guess it's a little more like a rhythmic hug, but that's the way they do it where I come from. Colloquially, at least. [ Nobody on this doomed world needs to know about Matt and Katy-Rose's misadventures with Northern California cotillion. ] Take your time. I think another act's about to come on.

[ The current music is feathering away, notes drifting softly into the air like evaporating droplets. Anticipation hangs in the space where noise used to be. ]

[Liem’s smile grows slightly more crooked at Matt’s description of the local dance style—and apparently his own world’s as well. It certainly implies some different things about the purpose of the activity in this particular circumstance, which were not at all true of dances he’s taken part in back home. Fortunately, he doubts that this particular dance will be difficult to pick up.]

How charmingly foreign, [he murmurs, half to himself, as the music begins to draw quiet. Despite the consternation the last performance caused him, or perhaps because of it, his eyes slide curiously around the club, drawn by the anticipation hanging in the air. His drink is neglected for the time being.]

That's me, [ he notes amiably. ] Foreign but charming.

Or at least I hope so.

[ Matt said "take your time," which means he now has to let Liem take his time. For a moment, he occupies himself with regarding the other man, one fingertip trailing slowly around the rim of his glass. Poor Liem still looks a bit like a cat that's been trapped in a small room, but he's been so sweet talking to Matt just now. And he was sweet on the roof, too. Gentle.

The lights change on the little stage. First they plunge black, and black-clad workers can be made out (even by Matt's eyes) as they wheel away the acrobat's clear pool. When the lights come back up, it's with a harsh, scarlet-lensed spotlight that illuminates two male figures draped in long hooded robes. ]

[At the moment, Liem is striking a balance between reserved glances around the dim, body-filled room, sharp eyes set in a carefully neutral face, and a softer regard that steals over him when he turns his attention back to his companion. There’s nowhere he can look in this thrumming, body-filled space that doesn’t assault him with invitation—to relax, to enjoy, to look and touch and drink and indulge. At least Matt’s attention is more of a gentle coaxing.]

I think you are.

[He agrees softly as the lights on-stage plunge dark and the pool is wheeled away. He charmed Liem into this little hole in the wall easily enough, after all, and it should be obvious that only his present company is keeping Liem here willingly.

Case in point: the way his attention seems to slide as if repelled away from the stage as the new act begins in earnest, only to be dragged back with scandalized fascination. This, he’d have to admit, is much more obviously a dance than anything that was happening on the establishment’s dance floor, but it’s a far more erotic performance than any he’d seen at parties in Taldor. The music does indeed seem to be an integral part of the experience.

He recalls what Matt had said weeks ago in Venera: Shame holds you back. At the moment, as turns his attention with sudden studiousness to finishing the rest of his drink, he wishes it was doing a better job.]

[ The performance is ... well, it's the only thing that could peel Matt's attention away from Liem right now. He's seen burlesque before, but until he came to Achamoth, he'd never seen anything exactly like this. The dancers move with such grace and power, desire infusing every movement--as if the two of them really are contentious lovers, and this opportunity to witness their encounter is purely accidental.

When Liem finishes his glass, Matt slides slowly from his seat and stands. His right hand stretches out, fingers unfurling to coax Liem up. ]

I'm not as good as they are, [ he notes wryly. ] But maybe if you close your eyes and pretend ...?

[As the music plays, Liem doesn't notice the speed at which he's going through the rest of his drink; he's too distracted by the performers on the stage, by the wordless story of their arresting dance, and by his own needy hunger to be touched by another person. In almost no time at all he gets to the bottom of the glass, regarding it with quiet surprise as Matt begins to slide back to his feet.

Glancing at the unfurling hand extended towards him, Liem sets his glass firmly back on the table.]

That would be a waste of a lovely view.

[He reaches out and takes Matt's hand as he regains his feet, looking demurely up at him.]

Besides, how will you show me how it's done if my eyes are closed?

[ Matt is on a bit of an emotional seesaw. Just when he starts to fret that Liem isn't having fun, or won't want to stay, Liem does something like this--says something that makes Matt laugh or looks at him in a way that warms his chest. It's not predictable at all, but it makes for a highly enjoyable ride.

Matt's fingers wrap around Liem's, and he steps gently backwards to draw him onto the dancefloor. Matt may be lacking a limb he once relied on, but he still knows how to navigate among bodies in space. He moves intuitively, easily, until he finds them a patch of floor surrounded by a decent amount of breathing room. Matt steps towards Liem, closing the distance between them until their chests are just brushing. His fingers remain tangled up with Liem's; his left arm ghosts up the line of Liem's spine to rest just under his shoulder blade. The stump end twinges, but Matt breathes deeply until the feeling passes. It is fortunately momentary. ]

So, ah, [ he says softly, pitched towards Liem's ear, ] this is how we start. And then we just ...

[ Matt steps to the right, his weight shifting gently. Steps back to the left. The music seems to demand more dramatic choreography, like the dance playing out onstage, but Matt finds that there's still a thrill of excitement in this modest movement. His chest to Liem's chest, their fingers intertwined. ]

[Surrendering his hand to Matt’s grasp, Liem lets himself be drawn onto the dance floor, weaving between the swaying bodies grouped in pairs about the space. The air feels very warm about them, and the brush of their bodies where they touch is even warmer. As Matt winds an arm around his waist, he hesitates, then loops his own around Matt’s neck.

Their dance is mostly intimacy, and not much choreography. He follows Matt’s lead and moves with him when he steps one way, then the other, keeping alert to the shifts in his weight and the angle of his spine. He is very conscious of the movement of his shoulders beneath his touch, the handless arm cradling his back, the bright, fascinating smell of his nearness. That more than anything else makes him forget the torrid dance going on atop the stage at the edge of the room.]

Matt, [he says, breath tickling his ear over the slide of the music.] Thank you, for asking me out. I haven’t left the Citadel much at all since… well, just of late.

[ Liem, meanwhile, feels remarkably cool swaying against him. It's a sensation Matt recalls from their tryst on the rooftop, one he's tried to hold close as the weeks have dragged on. But inevitably, as all sensations and all enlightenment must, it faded away. He's quietly pleased to have it back.

Liem speaks by his ear, and Matt's head tips ever so slightly, almost ticklishly, to listen. The gust of Liem's breath against sensitive nerves feels wonderful; what he has to say, decidedly less so. ]

Of course. [ Murmured sympathy. ] It was so hard, in Venera. I don't blame you at all for staying in.

[ He could choose the path of scouring honesty here. Admit I killed someone. But Matt can't bear to puncture this moment with something so bleak, especially when it won't change anything. It's like Paul said: Decide the goal is worth it, and that nothing will change your mind. ]

Still ... I'm really glad you came out with me.

[ Impulsively, Matt's left arm tightens around Liem, and he squeezes his hand. ]

It's nice to relax a bit, isn't it?

[Liem frowns slightly in the face of Matt’s sympathy, a flicker in the dance floor’s inconsistent light. Being in Venera was hard—at first. It was so hard that he couldn’t bear to commit himself to the cause that he was sent there for, and that his fellows managed to dedicate themselves to. So he simply hadn’t—and that was the easiest thing in the world.

It had been a weight off his soul to save those he could while people like Matt and Minegishi and Paul dirtied their hands following the Regent’s orders. In the end, that little act of mercy and rebellion would accomplish nothing at all, and even at the time he’d known it on some unacknowledged level. What he’d done, he’d done purely to feel better about himself.

That is what has been hard for him. The guilt of his selfishness and his failure followed him out of the Regent’s dungeons and has been pursuing him ever since.

But this… Unsavoury as this place is, and incongruous as it is for him to find anything resembling relaxation here, perhaps it’s what he needs right now. Everything about this outing is so removed from anything he would normally spend his time doing, the distance makes the shame that’e been haunting him easier to put aside for the moment. He squeezes Matt a little closer in turn, his frown smoothing into a slightly melancholy smile.]

It’s nice to be distracted, [is what he says.] Just for a little while.

Mmm.

[ Another small sound of sympathy, this one the perfect midway point between an aching murmur and a sigh of pleasure. Matt feels both: sorrow for Liem's pain, relief at his nearness. His nose draws along the arch of Liem's cheekbone, as he leans slightly more of his weight onto him--not a slump so much as a gentle drape. ]

Well. [ His lips are at the shell of Liem's ear now, so he can feel the care Matt takes in shaping the words, each one a small caress meant only for him. Warm breath and the savoring of every syllable. ] I'm happy to distract you. If you want that.

[ His neck stretches as he bends his head to place a soft, precise kiss to the lobe of Liem's ear, just above his earring. ]

[When Matt leans closer to nuzzle against his cheekbone, Liem feels his face warm in the wake of the gentle contact, soft and captivating. His breath catches in his throat as lips find his ear. He feels Matt's heart thump quietly against his chest. The crowd of dancing people around them seems very large and very close.

He does want to be distracted. He tips his head to meet Matt's lips—just a little. Just for a brief moment, simply to indulge the gentle caress of those words. Surely no one could begrudge him such a small, fleeting pleasure, savoured in passing as they take an evening's refuge from the black, looming realities of the Citadel. Surely he's allowed a scrap of intimacy to see him through the coming days.]

You are. [His fingers curl against the back of Matt's shirt, half grip, half caress.] You're very distracting.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject