extent | duplicitynet

yeah
tell him we've got like 8000 spare rooms

Thank you, Nick.

its like
literally the least i can do

we can unpack that later.

i dont think we have to

all right

[ look, he's just going to go make sure no one's planning anything stupid in the immediate future and then he's portaling directly into kyle's home. he wants to be with nick :( ]

( nick is cooking, which is to say he's standing in the kitchen without actually doing much of anything at all. his head turns, when he hears ragnor arrive, but he doesn't actually move. he just stays hands resting on the counter and leaning his weight heavily into it, frowning at the entrance instead of the items scattered in front of him. )

In here.

[ ragnor walks straight up to him, not rushing but also not stopping until he's pulling nick into a hug. ]

You're going to make me cry.

( which sounds like a protest, maybe, but nick is already hugging ragnor back. tight enough that he's not getting away any time soon, face pressed into his chest in case he decides to make good on that threat. )

You should.

[ ragnor hugs him very tightly, and rubs his back. he's a solid presence, steady. ]

Not now.

( it's easy enough to latch onto ragnor, squeeze his eyes shut and get out a few very careful, measured breaths. he's sober, again, and even less happy bout that fact this time around, but there's a different kind of weight to it this time. there's too much else going on. )

Maybe, like, tomorrow.

Whenever you want to.

[ ragnor kisses the top of nick's head and pointedly doesn't let go in the least. ]

You were cooking?

I was.

( the start of an effort was made, a few ingredients scattered on the counter, a pan on the stove top, but he'd given up fairly quickly into the task. nick's head twists a little, enough that he can look at the kitchen rather than just burying his face in ragnor's chest, but he doesn't make an effort to move. )

I don't know, I'm not feeling... ( he shrugs, helpfully, in lieu of finishing the sentence. ) Are you hungry?

Not at all, but I should eat.

[ so should nick, probably. ]

What were you making? I'll handle it.

Stir fry. I didn't cook it all yesterday, Michael was all like--you know only hipsters eat tofu.

( it was funnier last night, with nick's mock indignance and michael's exaggerated eye rolls. now it just makes his stomach twist unpleasantly, and he doesn't quite try to wriggle free of ragnor but he squirms like he's thinking about it. )

I don't want anything. You can--help yourself to anything, I need a smoke or something.

[ with a wave of his hand everything starts putting itself neatly away, and water starts heating, for tea. ]

I roll my own cigarettes on occasion.

[ or he used to, anyway, he's only ever smoked pot with nick. ]

I always saw you as a chewing tobacco type.

( nick uses the gesture of patting down his pockets as a way to maneuvre out of ragnor's arms, taking a few steps back as his palms slide over the pockets that he already knows are empty. he doesn't really smoke much any more, but the kitchen is full of little stashes that nick has made for himself in case of emergencies. hard liquor tucked away behind the cereal boxes, pills hidden inside mugs on shelves high enough that people never bother to look. in a drawer that only seems to be used for tea towels and coasters, nick digs around until he finds a crumpled up packet, with one lone cigarette. it's enough.

he doesn't smoke inside, either, but there's no one to get mad at him for it right now except for himself, so he slides up onto the kitchen counter instead of walking outside. cracks open the window, a compromise to someone that isn't even here to ask for it. )

Is Magnus okay?

[ he could just summon cigarettes, or the materials to roll them— it'd give nick something to do. but sometimes grief needs to be felt, like an earthquake; let it happen, then do what you can with the wreckage.

so he stands there and watches nick dig around for the cigarette. ]

To be honest, it's hard to tell.

[ magnus has a complicated love life, hope is not the first vampiress turned cruel he's been with, and ragnor is sure his friend is having all sorts of flashbacks.

but then, magnus is magnus, so although ragnor knows he's not great, it is hard to pin down where in the pain scale he actually is. ]

He'll try to help her. He's— he brought me back from worse.

[ ragnor can't help sounding unhappy about it. he's not ungrateful, but he still thinks magnus was stupid and reckless, and it was sheer luck they survived. ]

Lot of people that want to try. How do we help Hope, right?

( nick isn't a particularly bitter person, most of the time, but there's a sharp edge to the words that don't quite sound right, coming from his mouth. he shuffles back on the counter until he's leaning against the window, looking at the end of the unlit cigarette for a few beats until smoke starts to furl from the end and embers light up, and then he tilts his head towards the open gap in the glass. the first exhale comes with an unhappy downturn of the corners of his mouth, guiltily glancing down the hallway as he takes a drag.

but kyle isn't in a place to protest, and michael isn't here at all, so he just blows the smoke out in the direction of the window and keeps going. something else to unpack later, probably. )

That's how Michael got Kyle to switch his humanity back on. Pissed him off so much, he lashed out but it flipped the switch, so. I guess that's what he was trying to do here.

[ ragnor needs to ask more about this 'switch', he's seen vampire shut down before, but this seems... deliberate. that's much worse.

not that ragnor has much sympathy either way, the hurt caused doesn't go away just because the perpetrator didn't mean it. ]

Any strong emotion flips it back?

I think so, I don't really know a lot else.

( it hadn't seemed important, outside of the notion of learning more about kyle. it's a particular kind of hypocrisy, that nick had been so willing to forgive kyle for his own publicised murder but hope's name feels like acid in his throat, but he doesn't much care about that right now.

he tugs his legs up to his chest, looping an arm around them as he continues to smoke out of the window. it's a very fragile calm, with nick's carefully chosen words and deliberately slow breathing, but he's determined to stay on top of it. no breakdowns today, thanks. )

Nate cursed her, so she can't...kill again, at least. It doesn't solve the problem, but it's something. For now.

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