[the short answer is: no the hound won't fetch. the long answer: it always sits too far away to be touched (at the direct order of August), lacks any dog-like tendencies, and is not food motivated. this is not a friendly creature, and it will attack anyone else on sight.]
um no i dont think so do they have like granola bars
[ all the while watching the hound, naturally, his new companion. really it's a form of torture, a creature that nick physically can't befriend, and he gets up a couple of times and walks across the room just to watch the way that it observes him so intently before he climbs back into the bed.
it would be eerie, probably, if it were anyone else's. but august called this one, and so even the creepier habits of the summon don't make nick wary. ]
[the hound, one out of three and never named, prowls to sit by the door. wisps of shadow and smoke rises from its body. it growls if it so much as hears footsteps in the halls.]
[suddenly, he's opening the door, holding a bag full of everything that Nick mentioned, and more. he shuts the door behind him and slips off his shoes, walking to the bed. he hands Nick the green juice first, then a granola bar.]
Yes I can.
[he puts an extra juice on the bedside table, and puts the bag on the dresser. he'll deal with that later. he looks at the hound. the hound looks back. the two of them look like they could be communicating in some way, because the hound skulks through the adjoining bathroom and leaves.]
[ nick only barely resists the urge to call 'bye charlie' out after the hound as it skulks away, in the interest of not going out of his way to drive august insane. besides, there's a juice in his hand and he's pretty suitably distracted by that for now, stretching his legs out in front of him before he gestures to the rest of the space next to him. ]
Yes sir.
[ okay, maybe he's not actually that interested in not driving insane, but he does take a sip of the juice in question, so august can still consider it a win. ]
[that catches his attention. he shrugs off his jacket, drapes it over a nearby chair and crawls into bed. any unclean thoughts he has are wiped from his mind the second he touches the bed. he lays face down for a few seconds, or until he can't breathe anymore. he's so tired his eyes hurt, an annoying pain in his skull. rolling onto his side, he looks up at Nick, hair falling in front of his face.]
[ nick twists, tugging a leg up towards his chest so that he can cram in right next to august without his limbs getting in the way, and he reaches out his free hand to tug idly at the ends of the strands hanging loose in his face. ]
[ light and teasing, but there's a faint little twinge of concern caught up in there all the same. it's unsustainable, this constant vigil of august's, but they're past nick insisting that it's unnecessary, that he's fine, that a further attack isn't incoming.
so he saves his breath and just rubs an idle thumb between august's brows instead, willing some relief with the gesture. ]
You could sleep, for a bit. I'll stay here, watch something, I could wake you up in a little while.
[his lips quirk up to indicate a smile, one that quickly fades at the suggestion. he doesn't want to sleep, too locked on the possibilities of what could happen. he isn't being realistic, which he recognizes is his own fault. Nick is right -- he should rest.
his touch provides more relief than his magic, one that he leans in to. the hound is outside, Nick is recovering fine. there are no signs of threat.]
Only if you stay. I can't control what that thing does if you leave.
[ frankly because nick does believe august when he stresses how dangerous the creature is, even despite the silly names and the desire to throw a ball for it — there is something lingering and demonic in the room that even the open window can't chase out.
if he's really honest it's been a relief, one thing that he just hasn't had to worry about. nick doesn't think that he's in any danger, but that doesn't stop him from jerking violently awake on occasion all the same, hands clawing at his throat like he's trying to tear away a hand. ]
[he narrows his eyes when Nick refers to the hound as Charlie, but says nothing about it. instinctively, he reaches out to wrap his arm around Nick's waist, making him accommodate his limb however he sees fit. now he's definitely not going anywhere.]
[softly, gaze lowering:] I don't want your granola bar.
[it's not long before he's out, either from the white noise from whatever show or movie Nick decides to put on or from the rise and fall of his chest beneath his arm.
-
he wakes an hour later, groggy and disgruntled. he's a still sleeper, hardly moving. his grip around Nick has relaxed and his hand shifting along his waist is the only indicator that he's woken up.]
[ nick loses interest in watching anything pretty quickly, but that doesn't mean that he moves. he's content enough to stay sprawled out on the bed with august wound in at his side, picking idly through messages and scrolling through the network with a casual sort of interest. he's just hitting the point of rapidly cycling through apps for some kind of update, when he feels the arm move around him. ]
Morning.
[ it's absolutely not the morning, but that's not the point. nick is gentle in the way that he extricates himself, safe to ove without setting off a panic now that august is conscious again, and he rolls off of the edge of the bed to fetch the juice in question.
( apple, a little selfishly, because he's decided that it's the one that he wants the least )
he's back in no time at all, nudging at august's shoulder as he comes to sit down in the bed next to him again and holding out the drink. paired, naturally, with a sweet little flick of the hair out of august's face, brushing it back off of his forehead and pressing a thumb briefly between his brows where sleep has temporarily wiped away the concerned frown. hopefully, more than temporarily. ]
Do you think the shop is terribly boring without us?
[he can't help how much he worries about Nick now that the two of them are constantly in each other's presence. the few seconds after waking he's allowed to have without that worry creeping into his features. he lets Nick tend to him when he takes the drink, propping himself up on his elbow enough to unscrew the cap and take a sip, then a gulp. it's crisp and too sweet on his tongue.
he won't complain about it.]
I think the shop is the same.
[he holds the lip of the bottle against his mouth, thinks on taking another sip, promptly screws the lid back on and reaches over Nick to put it on the bedside table.]
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yeah.
[this is him grabbing all three.]
you want anything else?
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no i dont think so
do they have like granola bars
[ all the while watching the hound, naturally, his new companion. really it's a form of torture, a creature that nick physically can't befriend, and he gets up a couple of times and walks across the room just to watch the way that it observes him so intently before he climbs back into the bed.
it would be eerie, probably, if it were anyone else's. but august called this one, and so even the creepier habits of the summon don't make nick wary. ]
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[granola bars....oh.]
and granola bars. that it?
[the hound, one out of three and never named, prowls to sit by the door. wisps of shadow and smoke rises from its body. it growls if it so much as hears footsteps in the halls.]
you're not staring at it, are you?
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obviously i'm staring at it
are you really sure it doesn't want to go for a walk or something
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it doesn't need a walk.
pretend it's a machine.
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its looking at me
do you name them?
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it's supposed to look at you.
no.
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stop
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something like that doesn't need a name.
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[suddenly, he's opening the door, holding a bag full of everything that Nick mentioned, and more. he shuts the door behind him and slips off his shoes, walking to the bed. he hands Nick the green juice first, then a granola bar.]
Yes I can.
[he puts an extra juice on the bedside table, and puts the bag on the dresser. he'll deal with that later. he looks at the hound. the hound looks back. the two of them look like they could be communicating in some way, because the hound skulks through the adjoining bathroom and leaves.]
Drink your juice.
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Yes sir.
[ okay, maybe he's not actually that interested in not driving insane, but he does take a sip of the juice in question, so august can still consider it a win. ]
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No one came by, right?
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[ nick twists, tugging a leg up towards his chest so that he can cram in right next to august without his limbs getting in the way, and he reaches out his free hand to tug idly at the ends of the strands hanging loose in his face. ]
Maybe you should drink the juice. You alright?
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I'm fine.
[sleepless from making sure absolutely no one enters the room without his permission, but fine.]
How are you feeling?
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[ light and teasing, but there's a faint little twinge of concern caught up in there all the same. it's unsustainable, this constant vigil of august's, but they're past nick insisting that it's unnecessary, that he's fine, that a further attack isn't incoming.
so he saves his breath and just rubs an idle thumb between august's brows instead, willing some relief with the gesture. ]
You could sleep, for a bit. I'll stay here, watch something, I could wake you up in a little while.
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his touch provides more relief than his magic, one that he leans in to. the hound is outside, Nick is recovering fine. there are no signs of threat.]
Only if you stay. I can't control what that thing does if you leave.
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[ frankly because nick does believe august when he stresses how dangerous the creature is, even despite the silly names and the desire to throw a ball for it — there is something lingering and demonic in the room that even the open window can't chase out.
if he's really honest it's been a relief, one thing that he just hasn't had to worry about. nick doesn't think that he's in any danger, but that doesn't stop him from jerking violently awake on occasion all the same, hands clawing at his throat like he's trying to tear away a hand. ]
Go to sleep, I'll save you a granola bar.
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[softly, gaze lowering:] I don't want your granola bar.
[it's not long before he's out, either from the white noise from whatever show or movie Nick decides to put on or from the rise and fall of his chest beneath his arm.
-
he wakes an hour later, groggy and disgruntled. he's a still sleeper, hardly moving. his grip around Nick has relaxed and his hand shifting along his waist is the only indicator that he's woken up.]
Juice. [swallowing that nap-filled mouth] Please.
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Morning.
[ it's absolutely not the morning, but that's not the point. nick is gentle in the way that he extricates himself, safe to ove without setting off a panic now that august is conscious again, and he rolls off of the edge of the bed to fetch the juice in question.
( apple, a little selfishly, because he's decided that it's the one that he wants the least )
he's back in no time at all, nudging at august's shoulder as he comes to sit down in the bed next to him again and holding out the drink. paired, naturally, with a sweet little flick of the hair out of august's face, brushing it back off of his forehead and pressing a thumb briefly between his brows where sleep has temporarily wiped away the concerned frown. hopefully, more than temporarily. ]
Do you think the shop is terribly boring without us?
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he won't complain about it.]
I think the shop is the same.
[he holds the lip of the bottle against his mouth, thinks on taking another sip, promptly screws the lid back on and reaches over Nick to put it on the bedside table.]
Unless Alina hired someone new.
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