[This makes... three times his natural soul has taken over and left him watching. The first two, he understood. This one, less so. He just... slipped away. Fell into its instincts. Shifted in the middle of the street. Another set of clothes ruined. His reason for never wearing his expedition gear validated, quite apart from having grown too large for it.
The other difference between those times and this one is the way his hand grabs for his syntrofos as he wakes.]
Where are you?
[Verso is in a hospital gown, the background a Patho-Gen medical centre. Someone has — for safety, no doubt — attached what appear to be lime green styrofoam balls to the sharp points of his horns. His eyes are wild, his goat pupils slits.
He knows Vanitas is well, can feel it through their bond, but being without him — even in his half-conscious state — for weeks, it's left Verso desperate.
Vanitas might even get a mental overlap of his thoughts with the abrupt change from being out of control to being in control. Need you, haven't left, won't ever, need you.]
[Verso hasn't left, that much Vanitas is assured of. He can feel the other man through their connection, even if it's distorted and communication is impossible. So Vanitas simply does as he can only do: stays waiting in Verso's room, tidies up again and again and again, until every surface is gleaming and pristine.
Except for the bed, of course, where he finds himself resting anytime he needs a break from the hustle and bustle of the cafe. Upon hearing his syntrofos go off, he snatches it up in clawed hands, heart leaping into his throat when he sees who it is. Finally.]
Your place. What-- What happened?
[He can feel the desperation through their connection, and is hit by the rush of thoughts both needy and reassuring. It makes him shudder, his own appearance slightly disheveled from sleeping so much as a means of coping.]
Do you need me to come get you?
[Even as he says that, he's swinging his legs off the bed and grabbing Verso's clothes, shoving them into a bag before fleeing for the door, letting it slam in place behind him as he heads for Patho-Gen's headquarters. He hates it there, but this is even more important. Something he has to do.]
[His heart twists even as relief washes over him to hear Vanitas' voice. He's okay— isn't he? Verso studies the image on the screen. Slightly rumpled, yes, but unharmed, and without signs of extreme stress — no deep bags under his eyes, no sunken cheeks.]
Soul took over. Patho-Gen people said something was wrong with their device. Didn't say what where I could hear.
Won't be here long. [He doesn't know where he is, and is too busy getting the hell out to find it with the syntrofos map. Karteria is going to once again get a view of his tail and ass, though they're saved from full frontal by the hospital gown.]
[It's only thanks to the fact he could feel Verso still present in this world that he hadn't completely broken down. He could wait. Easy. He's been through worse. Though the horrible part was simply not knowing where Verso had gone, what he was doing, if he needed help.]
I see... Stupid idiots... None of their shit ever works right.
[Even the rough faction of Anti-Gen can't get their shit together. Something Verso will need to be updated about later. Right now, though, Vanitas is running through the city to meet him where he thinks Verso likely is.]
Alright. I'm coming to get you. I've got your clothes. [Shoes too, thankfully. He clutches the bag tight to his chest while the other hand all but crushes the syntrofos. He needs to see for himself that Verso is okay. Needs to hold him, to touch him.]
[One staff member tries to stop him from leaving, planting himself in the doorway and saying something about needing to monitor him further. Verso pushes past him, his skin rippling to the shade of brown that forms his Shift's clay.
The staff member pales and presses himself to the wall. Apparently, word has spread about Verso's Shift.
Before long, Verso is blinking in the early morning sunshine, disoriented. He whirls around, trying to pinpoint where Vanitas is, using their bond more than sight or any awareness of the city to choose a direction.
Into his syntrofos he says] Outside now.
[He runs. Where each hoof leaves the road, a small mound of earth rises, as if pushing him onward, just that bit faster.]
[Smart person, not trying to stop Verso from getting to his bonded pair. Even with all his fears and nerves, Vanitas himself would've busted in there to get Verso out, so they could see one another again.
Thankfully once he hears the other man is outside, he can relax a little, knowing he won't have to enter that hellish place. Not that it slows him down any, oh no. In fact, he speeds up, even more eager to reach Verso now that there's nothing barring the way.]
Almost there. Don't go far.
[Because if they each take a different route, then they might miss one another, and that would just be silly. Thank fully their bond is such that they end up heading down the same path, until Vanitas spots that familiar face out of all the people getting flashed.]
Verso! [Hope he doesn't mind being bodyslammed by his feline companion.]
[How could he ever mind? He wraps his arms around Vanitas, then kisses between his ears, his face, his cheeks, his neck.
He breathes him in. The scent is the only thing that can keep him grounded, the only thing that can unwind his nerves, strung taught enough to snap. His chest is prominent and obvious in the the gown, but Verso pulls Vanitas to it without hesitation, his wings unfolding and circling around him.]
[It's a sentiment that Vanitas eagerly returns, accidentally smacking Verso's bare back with the bag of clothes in his haste. Thankfully not hard, but enough to show just how desperately he missed the man.
Unable to resist his own feline soul, Vanitas bumps up against every part of Verso he can reach, from his chin to his chest, to his shoulders, rubbing his scent all over him as though to mark what's rightfully his. His friend, his partner, his companion. His.]
I know... I could tell you were here, I just--
[Missed him so much. Feared that maybe his senses were wrong and that Verso had left without a word. Or that he'd gone and gotten himself killed again.]
You promised...
[Behind him, not one, but now two tails lash with excitement over their meeting.]
[Another day he might worry about what it means that Vanitas is so attached to him. But right now, they both need this closeness, they both need to have their scent where it should never have left.]
I love you. [He says it into Vanitas' hair, a quiet murmur that can't possibly convey the depths of his feelings.
Perhaps he should have noticed the extra tail earlier, but it's only as Verso's hands roam lower, trying to map each inch of Vanitas anew that his hand strokes down one, only to have the other bump against his fingers.
He blinks, then peers at Vanitas' ass.] Had your trousers refitted while I was gone?
[That's certainly something to fret over later, when life hasn't been so cruel as it always seems to be here. There's a good reason Vanitas is so desperate for comfort, for the familiar safety that is Verso.]
Missed you... [Even as he clutches at both Verso's back and front, determined not to let him slip away, his ears flick softly, taking in those words like they're water and he's parched from a trip to the desert. It soothes his souls, and calms his nerves.
At least until Verso brushes up against his new appendage. That makes him jump and bristle a bit, though there's no hostility in him, merely nerves. At that question, he hesitates, trying to think how best to explain it. How much to say.]
...ex-Patho-Gen members. They started a new group, Anti-Gen. Supposedly wanting to help us. Their little testing went awry.
[Even though he started off calm, by the time he finishes, the words are growled out and his ears flatten back, tails lashing out of barely concealed ire.]
[Verso sucks in a breath. His skin ripples and his shoulders stretch. But he pulls Vanitas in closer, squeezing him tight. Perhaps a little too hard, but he can feel Vanitas' upset. And he hates it. Hates that he can't put it right more as he struggles to keep his natural soul under control.]
We can't trust them. [Not a reproach in the slightest — were he here he might have heard them out himself — but a bitter agreement. Patho-Gen are reckless fools.]
[And Vanitas was foolish enough to go investigate. That's what pisses him off the most, that he just couldn't stay away, he had to go get himself into trouble. He's only glad Verso wasn't there to be affected by it, too. And that much he can share through their connection: relief.
Still, he starts tugging at Verso to get them out of the middle of the street.]
No. They could have good intentions, maybe, maybe not, but they still haven't a damn clue what they're doing. Idiots, the lot of them. C'mon, let's get you dressed.
[That gets a smile from Verso, and he chuckles as Vanitas pulls him away.] More changes I don't know about? Never heard that from you before. [Wanting Verso's clothes on.
It's... easier to tease him than think about how this happened, why it happened. Whether it could happen again.]
[Huffing slightly with reddened cheeks, Vanitas only drags him harder by the arm, pointedly keeping his nose up in haughty defiance.] Fine. If you want, I can strip you down once you're in the bushes. Would that make you feel better?
[Not that he's going to; too risky on several levels, especially with spring in the air and his soul playing havoc with his emotions.
Once they're safely behind some bushes and trees, he sets the bag down and starts unpacking it: shirt, pants, shoes. Even a comb so that Verso can tidy himself up in case he'd been out doing who knows what. Once all laid out, he starts tugging at the gown Verso is wearing.] Here-- Gimme that useless thing. You don't need it anymore.
There he is. [The brat who wants him naked. But Verso gives him a half-squeeze and presses a kiss to his cheek before releasing the gown, snapping the fastenings rather than bothering to undo them.
He pulls the trousers on, but raises an eyebrow at the shoes, giving Vanitas a pointed look before looking back at his hoof... which slowly reforms into a foot so he can shove the shoe on.]
Shush, you. [It's a weak protest, because it feels so good to banter with Verso again after what feels like forever. These last weeks have been taxing in ways he doesn't want to think about. In all honesty, he'd much rather simply fall into the bushes with the man naked, but he's sworn off such antics, and he's doing his damnedest to stick to it.
So even as he shoves the destroyed robe into the bag, he keeps stealing glances at Verso, cheeks heating up a bit. Though he looks apologetic at the whole shoes thing.] Sorry. Wasn't sure if you needed them or not.
Haven't for a while. [But he still appreciates the consideration, and shape-shifts his other hoof to fill the second shoe. Having his shirts is more of a boon, shifting his wings away a bigger challenge than forming toes. He catches the looks, but doesn't comment. It's a good sign, he thinks. After all, it's hard to be worried about Verso leaving — or being taken — and lust after him.] Should get rid of them. [But when he can change his body, even temporarily, he hasn't quite managed to pull the plug.
He fastens the buttons of his shirt top to bottom, but even as his fingers move swiftly, he steps closer to Vanitas. He needs him. Even the small amount of distance was too much space.]
[Nodding a bit, he holds out each article of clothing as is needed, trying hard to focus on the task at hand rather than the nakedness of his friend in front of him. It's not easy though, and while he continues to fret a bit, he finds himself more and more distracted, until his concern and fear is more background noise than the overwhelming rush of anxiety that it was initially.] You never know when you might need them, though.
[Faint hope that perhaps someday they might all return to normal. He has to hold on to that little bit of faith or he might break completely. As is, he finds himself meeting Verso halfway, reaching out to start at the bottom of his shirt buttons to help.]
You're okay, though...? No injuries? Nothing missing or changed?
Nothing. [That he's noticed. But he's only been back to himself for less than an hour, plenty he could have missed. He'd rather focus on—] And you? [There's the additional tail, but that's practically normal, these days.
Their fingers meet on the final button. The slightest tremor is present in Verso's hand.]
Good. I thought that-- [That maybe he'd been kidnapped. That Patho-Gen was using Anti-Gen's appearance to perform more experiments on them. Once their hands meet and he feels Verso trembling, he takes hold of him and draws his hand to his lips, brushing them over each finger in turn, relief and gratitude overflowing through their connection.]
I'm alright. [New tail aside. Though suddenly, Vanitas perks up, eyes shining like the nineteen-year-old he is.] I've got something to show you. C'mon!
[Orienting himself, he tugs Verso along with a sudden spring in his step, tails waving as he leads them towards the city's edge.]
[Verso loves that look, though he sees it all too rarely. For all Vanitas claims to be frivolous and immature, he's seen too much in his life and achieves happiness infrequently at best. So Verso's ears prick up, and he grins back at him, squeezing his hand.]
A good surprise? Could do with a few more of those.
[It's far and away too rare an expression on him, which makes this even more a special occasion than the surprise he has in mind. It's made all the better for the way Verso holds his hand, and Vanitas can't help threading their fingers together as he breaks out into a jog, mindful of Verso's condition in case he's still not feeling a hundred percent.
Eventually though, they reach a scattering of trees, where there's a large object covered with a dark green cloth to match the foliage. Finally, Vanitas lets go and hurries ahead, yanking off the covering to reveal an old-school carriage, which Vanitas immediately swings himself up onto, whirling around to grin at Verso with his hands on his hips.]
[While Verso has many of the memories of the real Verso Dessendre — enough to shape him into an accurate representation of that man — having never lived in Paris himself, this is the first time he's seen a powered vehicle other than a train.
Verso can see why Vanitas is excited. And his expression grows warm and excited as he studies the cart.]
What does it use as fuel? Not chroma [not enough of that here, and it wasn't well suited to travel, even inside the painting. Esquie was the premiere mode of transport there. He dredges up the word from the real Verso's memories:] Petroleum? [Though, no, surely not—] Not Katalyth?
[Parking himself atop the carriage, Vanitas swings his legs a bit while watching eagerly for Verso's approval. Much like the young man he is, he still can't help seeking praise and acknowledgement from those he likes.
Excitement is clear in every line of his body, from his head craning over to his two tails swishing happily. He laughs a bit as Verso guesses, pleased that it's not evident what powers it.]
Nope. [He shakes his head a bit, cheeky grin manifesting with a fang revealing itself. At the second guess, he gives his legs a little kick.] Not that either. [The Katalyth answer turns his expression wry, but still smiling.] Uh uh. Electricity! I filched an electric engine from Patho-Gen and studied how to hook it up.
[He finally jumps down, landing beside Verso. With a snap of his fingers, he shoots a spark at the vehicle, starting it up.]
Neat, huh? I finally figured out how to commune with my carnivora soul a bit better.
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Video, un: verso
The other difference between those times and this one is the way his hand grabs for his syntrofos as he wakes.]
Where are you?
[Verso is in a hospital gown, the background a Patho-Gen medical centre. Someone has — for safety, no doubt — attached what appear to be lime green styrofoam balls to the sharp points of his horns. His eyes are wild, his goat pupils slits.
He knows Vanitas is well, can feel it through their bond, but being without him — even in his half-conscious state — for weeks, it's left Verso desperate.
Vanitas might even get a mental overlap of his thoughts with the abrupt change from being out of control to being in control. Need you, haven't left, won't ever, need you.]
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Except for the bed, of course, where he finds himself resting anytime he needs a break from the hustle and bustle of the cafe. Upon hearing his syntrofos go off, he snatches it up in clawed hands, heart leaping into his throat when he sees who it is. Finally.]
Your place. What-- What happened?
[He can feel the desperation through their connection, and is hit by the rush of thoughts both needy and reassuring. It makes him shudder, his own appearance slightly disheveled from sleeping so much as a means of coping.]
Do you need me to come get you?
[Even as he says that, he's swinging his legs off the bed and grabbing Verso's clothes, shoving them into a bag before fleeing for the door, letting it slam in place behind him as he heads for Patho-Gen's headquarters. He hates it there, but this is even more important. Something he has to do.]
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Soul took over. Patho-Gen people said something was wrong with their device. Didn't say what where I could hear.
Won't be here long. [He doesn't know where he is, and is too busy getting the hell out to find it with the syntrofos map. Karteria is going to once again get a view of his tail and ass, though they're saved from full frontal by the hospital gown.]
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I see... Stupid idiots... None of their shit ever works right.
[Even the rough faction of Anti-Gen can't get their shit together. Something Verso will need to be updated about later. Right now, though, Vanitas is running through the city to meet him where he thinks Verso likely is.]
Alright. I'm coming to get you. I've got your clothes. [Shoes too, thankfully. He clutches the bag tight to his chest while the other hand all but crushes the syntrofos. He needs to see for himself that Verso is okay. Needs to hold him, to touch him.]
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The staff member pales and presses himself to the wall. Apparently, word has spread about Verso's Shift.
Before long, Verso is blinking in the early morning sunshine, disoriented. He whirls around, trying to pinpoint where Vanitas is, using their bond more than sight or any awareness of the city to choose a direction.
Into his syntrofos he says] Outside now.
[He runs. Where each hoof leaves the road, a small mound of earth rises, as if pushing him onward, just that bit faster.]
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Thankfully once he hears the other man is outside, he can relax a little, knowing he won't have to enter that hellish place. Not that it slows him down any, oh no. In fact, he speeds up, even more eager to reach Verso now that there's nothing barring the way.]
Almost there. Don't go far.
[Because if they each take a different route, then they might miss one another, and that would just be silly. Thank fully their bond is such that they end up heading down the same path, until Vanitas spots that familiar face out of all the people getting flashed.]
Verso! [Hope he doesn't mind being bodyslammed by his feline companion.]
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He breathes him in. The scent is the only thing that can keep him grounded, the only thing that can unwind his nerves, strung taught enough to snap. His chest is prominent and obvious in the the gown, but Verso pulls Vanitas to it without hesitation, his wings unfolding and circling around him.]
Didn't leave. I'm here. Didn't leave.
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Unable to resist his own feline soul, Vanitas bumps up against every part of Verso he can reach, from his chin to his chest, to his shoulders, rubbing his scent all over him as though to mark what's rightfully his. His friend, his partner, his companion. His.]
I know... I could tell you were here, I just--
[Missed him so much. Feared that maybe his senses were wrong and that Verso had left without a word. Or that he'd gone and gotten himself killed again.]
You promised...
[Behind him, not one, but now two tails lash with excitement over their meeting.]
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I love you. [He says it into Vanitas' hair, a quiet murmur that can't possibly convey the depths of his feelings.
Perhaps he should have noticed the extra tail earlier, but it's only as Verso's hands roam lower, trying to map each inch of Vanitas anew that his hand strokes down one, only to have the other bump against his fingers.
He blinks, then peers at Vanitas' ass.] Had your trousers refitted while I was gone?
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Missed you... [Even as he clutches at both Verso's back and front, determined not to let him slip away, his ears flick softly, taking in those words like they're water and he's parched from a trip to the desert. It soothes his souls, and calms his nerves.
At least until Verso brushes up against his new appendage. That makes him jump and bristle a bit, though there's no hostility in him, merely nerves. At that question, he hesitates, trying to think how best to explain it. How much to say.]
...ex-Patho-Gen members. They started a new group, Anti-Gen. Supposedly wanting to help us. Their little testing went awry.
[Even though he started off calm, by the time he finishes, the words are growled out and his ears flatten back, tails lashing out of barely concealed ire.]
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We can't trust them. [Not a reproach in the slightest — were he here he might have heard them out himself — but a bitter agreement. Patho-Gen are reckless fools.]
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Still, he starts tugging at Verso to get them out of the middle of the street.]
No. They could have good intentions, maybe, maybe not, but they still haven't a damn clue what they're doing. Idiots, the lot of them. C'mon, let's get you dressed.
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It's... easier to tease him than think about how this happened, why it happened. Whether it could happen again.]
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[Not that he's going to; too risky on several levels, especially with spring in the air and his soul playing havoc with his emotions.
Once they're safely behind some bushes and trees, he sets the bag down and starts unpacking it: shirt, pants, shoes. Even a comb so that Verso can tidy himself up in case he'd been out doing who knows what. Once all laid out, he starts tugging at the gown Verso is wearing.] Here-- Gimme that useless thing. You don't need it anymore.
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He pulls the trousers on, but raises an eyebrow at the shoes, giving Vanitas a pointed look before looking back at his hoof... which slowly reforms into a foot so he can shove the shoe on.]
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So even as he shoves the destroyed robe into the bag, he keeps stealing glances at Verso, cheeks heating up a bit. Though he looks apologetic at the whole shoes thing.] Sorry. Wasn't sure if you needed them or not.
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He fastens the buttons of his shirt top to bottom, but even as his fingers move swiftly, he steps closer to Vanitas. He needs him. Even the small amount of distance was too much space.]
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[Faint hope that perhaps someday they might all return to normal. He has to hold on to that little bit of faith or he might break completely. As is, he finds himself meeting Verso halfway, reaching out to start at the bottom of his shirt buttons to help.]
You're okay, though...? No injuries? Nothing missing or changed?
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Their fingers meet on the final button. The slightest tremor is present in Verso's hand.]
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I'm alright. [New tail aside. Though suddenly, Vanitas perks up, eyes shining like the nineteen-year-old he is.] I've got something to show you. C'mon!
[Orienting himself, he tugs Verso along with a sudden spring in his step, tails waving as he leads them towards the city's edge.]
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A good surprise? Could do with a few more of those.
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[It's far and away too rare an expression on him, which makes this even more a special occasion than the surprise he has in mind. It's made all the better for the way Verso holds his hand, and Vanitas can't help threading their fingers together as he breaks out into a jog, mindful of Verso's condition in case he's still not feeling a hundred percent.
Eventually though, they reach a scattering of trees, where there's a large object covered with a dark green cloth to match the foliage. Finally, Vanitas lets go and hurries ahead, yanking off the covering to reveal an old-school carriage, which Vanitas immediately swings himself up onto, whirling around to grin at Verso with his hands on his hips.]
Whatcha think, huh? Got her running myself!
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Verso can see why Vanitas is excited. And his expression grows warm and excited as he studies the cart.]
What does it use as fuel? Not chroma [not enough of that here, and it wasn't well suited to travel, even inside the painting. Esquie was the premiere mode of transport there. He dredges up the word from the real Verso's memories:] Petroleum? [Though, no, surely not—] Not Katalyth?
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Excitement is clear in every line of his body, from his head craning over to his two tails swishing happily. He laughs a bit as Verso guesses, pleased that it's not evident what powers it.]
Nope. [He shakes his head a bit, cheeky grin manifesting with a fang revealing itself. At the second guess, he gives his legs a little kick.] Not that either. [The Katalyth answer turns his expression wry, but still smiling.] Uh uh. Electricity! I filched an electric engine from Patho-Gen and studied how to hook it up.
[He finally jumps down, landing beside Verso. With a snap of his fingers, he shoots a spark at the vehicle, starting it up.]
Neat, huh? I finally figured out how to commune with my carnivora soul a bit better.
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Did you now? [Vanitas has his approval, and more than that, he has his enthusiasm — his excitement.] How does it work then? Show me?
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