convergence (Earinor & marquis)

This was freeing - it felt like he'd taken off a corset he'd improperly worn for ages, something that had tied off all the air he'd ever had in those very lungs of his and now, that he could actually breathe, he realized that his hunger was something that needed to be stilled and that Nathan wasn't something he wanted to eat, no, not even when he looked at him with eyes that showed the smallest glint of satisfaction for once in their life. Come tomorrow, he'd be able to patch himself back together, probably, but Ros wasn't done here, not when Nate trudged off toward the bathroom to wash himself, most likely to make it even harder for Ros to even assume he could get a quick bite out of his ex - he didn't want him, neither as a lover nor as dinner, he just wanted him save. Maybe that was why he found himself so strict with him at times, or so dismissive of his hard-earned skills that neither of them should squander. Still, Ros made his way back to the freezer and reached in deep, pulling out everything he could. The cold felt so welcoming and the ice that had formed here and there was oddly like at home - a cave, made of hopes and dreams he couldn't even begin to understand anymore. Was his true nature that of a predator, that to hunt with? His thoughts cycled as his chestwound sighed, having its own say. Then, Ros had the first of many stupid thoughts in a while.

His fingers, always nimble, reached for that hole and he stuck one of them in, licking his own blood off his fingers and grimacing. He tasted horrible. So much so that he actually started liking his arms clean, in the hope of finding a flavor profile that suited him. Abaddon's blood also tasted like shit. Fuck. With newly found strength, all of a sudden anyway, Ros looked for something to wear and was quick to spot a pair of underwear from his bedroom, getting it stained with god-knew-who's blood in the process. Better than being naked, even though parts of him were probably fuzzy with some sort of skin-molding-into-fur - but what did it matter? Sufficiently dressed, at least for a bit, he closed the freezer door and walked over to a small storage room that he kept his cleaning utensils and other miscalleanous stuff in. Among of which, he also somehow foisted a smaller freezer into the already tiny room, at the far back, for reasons known to him and probably Nathan, who had seen many a iteration of his beastly desires. Out of sight, out of mind, Ros leaned into it, grabbed four bags of them and brought them back to the kitchen, foisting three of them back in the freezer there and one, he put in the sink. To thaw. He was going to need to eat if he didn't want to be healed by someone else, but he didn't feel all that energetic at all. Instead, he simply walked off to his bedroom and let himself fall onto his duvets, still bleeding, still stained.

Nathan didn't want to take too much time, so he got up eventually, grabbed a towel from one of the cupboards and quickly dried himself. He wasn't completely, especially his hair still carried water that dripped on the floor. He didn't want to spend more time than necessary though, so he wrapped the towel around his waste, then unlocked the door and went out. He looked at the floor, which was properly covered in blood stains by now, from the bathroom to the kitchen, then back into the hall were they stood a while. There was more blood in front of the freezer and on that corner. He turned his head, the bathroom was a mess too, at least the little bird from didn't lose much blood. Nathan didn't remember an occasion were Ros had been this bloody, or bleeding himself. Was he even going to be able to get ahold of himself with that many smells around? Well, his own blood might not matter actually, then again, Nathan knew precious little about his ex in that regard.

Nathan sighed and tried not to step in any blood while he navigated trough to the living room and the bedroom on the other side of it. The blood led there too, but Nathan definitely didn't want to sleep on the sofa naked, even less if Ros would pass him when he went back to the kitchen. The door was half open and Nathan peaked inside. "Ros...", he mumbled with a worried sigh, but first went to his closet and grabbed a shirt that looked large enough for him and some underwear. First he got into the T-Shirt that was long enough to cover his butt, then he let the towel fall on the floor and got into the underwear as well. Maybe it would have been better to take some of Ros clothes ready for the washing machine, but he didn't feel like wearing his sweaty clothes. It would be fine, right? Then he walked over to Ros who lay there on his bed. Nathan could have ignored him, but no. "Ros... I think you should get under the shower. Wash off all the blood you can." He looked at the bleeding mess. "You'll never get the smell out of your mattress if you let it pool enough to reach it." Nathan was beat, but this was important and so he stepped closer and grabbed Ros hand in an attempt to pull him up and drag him to the bathroom. His own hand was already bloody again as well. "Come on."

Ros was spent and he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day in this bed and not move anywhere anymore - there was no place for him to go after all if he kept this up, and besides, escaping his own consciousness was always the best way to deal with things he didn't want to deal with. He was so close to drifting off when his ears picked up on someone - Nathan - wandering around the apartment, seemingly looking for him and following the trail he'd left behind. How long until he found him? How long until Ros had to clean all of that? Good question, but he would blame it upon himself when he woke up and had to deal with actually shoving himself back into that corset he so loathed to call his own skin and bones at times - this form was much more efficient, if only for the hunt in itself - he knew his claws would get stuck on the fabric of his bed, and he also knew that there was no getting comfortable with that much hair. Cutting it off, though, did preciously little, it would just come back whenever he shifted his forms around and he'd then wonder if his barely-human body was attributing all of the fur he should be spurting to just one part of his head. Wasn't that disgusting? It couldn't be worse than him salivating down Nate's throat.

Just as he divulged his passing thoughts to him, the man himself appeared, but only as a voice - Ros wanted to lay there and shut his brain off, through the pain, so he wouldn't have to deal with it now or even when he woke up. "Mh ... don't wanna.", he complained, much like a kid would in any case. All the things that Nathan didn't know about him, Ros knew about the other man in turn, or believed himself to know, because he knew that they both fawned over one another like they were destined to be, once upon a time at the very least. "It's okay ...", Ros assured Nate - he didn't care enough, he knew that he just didn't want him to rue this decision at some point, much like he'd rue his gluttony, yet, it was part of his life. Roscoe hated having to function at times, but he knew Nate was right. "Mh ...", he groaned, then rolled onto his back, looking at Nate - in his clothes, trying to pull on him - and chuckled at him. What an endearing gesture. "You know you can't move me ...", he reminded the guy that was deliberately getting himself dirty again. Ros relented, peeled himself off of his duvet and switched places with Nate, who landed on his bed instead. "I'll go ... I'll go. You go rest ... Also ..." His eyes fell onto Nate, scrutinizing him for all he was worth for a second. "You don't ... have to wear that. You still ... smell like me ... But clothes are ... nice I guess ...", Ros confessed, then sauntered off to the bathroom, discarding any and all clothes as he started washing all the blood away in the pre-warmed shower, with water so hot he'd normally not even let himself come near it. The blood came off and Ros was, at least, smart enough to stuff the wound with gauze and bandage it up once he was cleaned up - but that was also all he did; he dried himself off after all of that, and then, instead of making a bee-line for his bed, looked for Nate.

Ros was so different like this, not at all stuck up or bothered by appearances. He didn't care about logic or anything of that sort and he didn't worry about the future. As endearing as that was, it wasn't what Nathan needed come tomorrow or the days after and he felt bad for always claiming Ros to be denying himself but then relying on the persona he crafted for himself. His pull didn't do anything and Ros told him as much. "You're supposed to get up anyway.", he told him calmly, only to be yanked on himself. His world spun and he found himself laying on the bed. He'd been ready to help Ros clean up, but it didn't seem necessary. He looked a bit better, not as hungry anymore at least and he'd manage to wash himself probably. Nathan had the feeling he needed to help however, he knew this was mostly his fault, because he'd been reckless, petty and stupid. "We're not a couple anymore.", he reminded Ros of the reason he chose to wear clothes and Ros also got dressed. Sure Nathan could have worn his own, but why would he after being fresh out of the shower? Not that it mattered now, that he was stained again.

Ros left and Nathan stayed in the bed for a few minutes, sighing and closing his eyes for a moment. Before he could fall asleep however, he got up maybe a bit too quickly. He felt dizzy for a second, then shook his head and looked at the bed. Sighing again he removed the layers that had been stained already, ruffling them up on the floor, then he stuffed all of it plus Ros clothes into the washing machine, as much as he could make fit at least. He had no idea if that would sufficiently get rid of the blood, but there was no way he'd scrub it by hand right now. He searched for fresh sheets and all and made the bed, not hotel quality, but sufficiently. Then, he went back to the utility closet, getting some cleaning utensils and very out of character started to clean the blood stains off the floor, starting in the bedroom and working his way forward. He couldn't say he cleaned blood before, especially not that much. It looked like a crime scene in here and it bothered him, as well as it would bother Ros eventually. No matter how drained he felt, he also felt the need to do this right now and so he kneeled on the floor, scrubbing the blood off of it as best he could.

With Nathan found, Ros watched him for a bit, intrinsically so - whenever he was hungry, and somehow found himself in a sort of post-gorge bliss, he was quite attentive and not at all the horrible creature that Nate sometimes made him out to be. No, in fact, he was docile like a kitten right now, eyeing one of its parents' tails swishing behind their back, wondering if he should risk to pounce on them and obviously lose. Sadly, though, Nathan wouldn't be able to really keep up with him and Ros didn't have the energy to play with him - why would he? He was glad he wasn't falling apart again, so he danced around his former boyfriend instead and put on a fresh set of clothes, wet hair partially wrung out at this point. Cutting it off surely would have to be a feasible option, even in this state, but it didn't matter - it would be over come tomorrow. Only when he was dressed again, he went back to where Nate kneeled and this time, as he stood behind him, kneeled there as well, his arms over that mans shoulders and his knees against his back. "What are you doing?", he gingerly asked, peering over to what Nate was cleaning up. Wasted food, how sad. Could that still be salvaged? If only he knew.

Before he could find an answer for that, though, he asked the next, almost equally as pressing question. "Need help? Want help?", Ros wondered, before he was also asking himself how Nate would react if he pressed his freezing nose against his neck. No, he didn't want to scare him off again, they both should rest and Nathan was already doing more than enough. "Are you hungry?", crawled out of his throat instead, as if he were still enamored with the concept of just staying here, never moving, being locked in with Nathan for the rest of his life - or maybe with going back to being a beast, in some sort of hut, between the worlds, in the shadows, nothing more than a haunting whisper that led the lost and forlorn ones astray. There was little that Ros could feasibly do like this, but even worse, there was nothing he should do, not when his bones itched again and his mouth felt as if it would never be satiated. Finally, he took some weight off of Nathan. "I'm cold.", he announced, unceremoniously, as if that was going to change anything. Turning into anything else was out of question, though, and Ros didn't feel like actually changing forms again. Four times in a day, with hunger pangs, was strenuous enough.

Ros eventually passed him, then came back and grabbed Nathan from behind. He stopped cleaning for the moment and bit his lower lip. There was not point trying to wrest free, he just wanted to be done with this that was all and then sleep, without a maniac with him that made him want to leave rather than stay. "You can't just do this...", he told Ros, "I'm not your boyfriend anymore. I shouldn't need to explain this to you of all people..." The stuck up over correct Ros who suddenly was not at all like he wanted to be. It was endearing once, not now when Nate wasn't interested in him anymore, not like that anyway. Besides, he just wanted to finish cleaning and then sleep, without waking up to some unsolicited hug. "I'm just trying to make sure, you're not getting hungrier than need be...", he finally explained. Ros used to complain that Nathan never cleaned and let everything fall on the floor where he stood, or never got anything off his desk again once he put it on it.

"Help with handling blood, from you? No I don't think so... I can hear you're still hungry, it's the only reason you keep getting too close." It was a fair assessment and not judgingly presented. Nathan was annoyed anyhow. "I have no energy to digest food right now and... I don't think I am hungry." He'd seen a corpse not too long ago and lots of blood here, no he had no appetite at all. Something Ros would understand later, but not now. Nathan turned his head, looking at the gaping mouth full of saliva and he pushed against Ros' chin, so he'd close it and swallow. He moved away a bit. "The cold doesn't hurt you..." Nathan sighed and looked up again. "Just go to sleep, your bed is freshly made, we'll talk tomorrow..."

Right. They'd never officially broken up, but telling Nathan now that he didn't consider this too be over if he were deep down ugly and honest would only send him further away than ever. Ros didn't even particularly feel anything for him anymore, he simply was happy to have him around and to entertain himself with his relentless barrage of reactions that he could muster. "Was that too close? Sorry.", Ros instead responded in a sweet voice, hardly satisfied with what he'd fed himself, yet, he was also quite a ways aware that he wasn't going to do himself any favors if he was just gonna dilly-dally around for the time being. There was, after all, only so many things Nate would allow him to do. "A bit of closeness never hurt anybody, besides, I don't even want you like that ... I just wanted to see what you're doing." Big mistake. Ros wasn't like this anymore, it was simply that he fell back into old habits when he found himself contronted with a situation he didn't want to control quite yet. Nathan had cost him many a nerved today, for better or worse, no wonder he felt wired and fried. "Thanks for looking out for me.", Ros eventually told him, which seemed so much more genuine than other things he'd said before.

"That sucks ... but I guess you aren't wrong. I don't want to eat more frozen meat, though ...", he lamented, but why would he have fresh one in the freezer anyway? Ros didn't eat, for months at a time sometimes, and this was no exception. Hardly, if at all. There was little he could do about that. "I'll treat you to something some other time then ..." Given, Roscoe himself wouldn't eat and it always was almost awkward when it happened. Initially, he'd never eaten anything when they went somewhere, then out of courtesy but his innards revolted to the foreign foods by promptly making him throw them up, yet, he eventually got used to it and now used something like that as an excuse to not actually eat any meat. While it wasn't poison, it obviously wasn't good for him anyway, and hurt him more than he really should let it. As Nate turned around, Ros expected something, anything really, only to be met with a hand in his face and his gaping mouth closed shut. Annoyed, he swallowed, then wiped the spittle from his face. Maybe he truly was hungry. "You're right. How silly of me." And maybe, Ros was just lonely. In the end, he gave Nate's shoulder a pat. "Good night, don't stay up too long. And ... thanks for making my bed?", he trailed off after that, sauntered on two legs, first into the doorframe, then into his bed, before he was out like a light not much later.

Nathan couldn't deal with Ros like this right now. It had been fine when they were a couple and Ros tugged on him, wrestled with him playfully and did things he normally never would have, but right now it was inappropriate and at the same time he was just like he always was, diminishing Nathans protest as if he had said something outlandish and was crazy for being so advert to 'just' a little closeness he never invited him to. Time and time again he had to tell himself that what Ros spouted wasn't necessarily the truth, that he wasn't overreacting, that he wasn't useless, dumb or incapable of taking care of himself. Frankly, Nathan wanted to get out of here, but his place was hardly save. Abaddon knew where he lived and he had two of these things, who was to say he didn't have a third one. Right now Nathan couldn't even teleport to safety, so no, he had nowhere to go and was stuck in this place feeling like some kind of hostage. Maybe it would have been easier if he was just a midnight snack for Ros.

Nathan barely answered Ros, he just gave a quick 'mhm' and hoped he'd leave, which he did eventually. His shoulder fled from the touch and he didn't look back, waiting for Ros to be in his room. Then Nathan got up and closed the bedroom door, feeling better that way. He got back to cleaning, it was probably not perfect, but he at least attempted to clean the floor in the living room, the hallway, the kitchen and the bathroom. Then he washed his hand thoroughly and with all of that done he was sufficiently beat, even more so than before. It was a wonder he made it this far, but maybe his worry fueled him too. Sleep now? With Ros being like... that... right there? He didn't want his closeness. When he told him he wouldn't eat him the last two times, it sounded like quite the opposite. He didn't think he'd kill Nathan, but play? Maybe. And this maybe unsettled him. Nathan looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was pale, there were dark rings around his eyes and when he tried to just conjure a little flame with a snap of his fingers, nothing happened, not even sparks. He gave himself a break, let himself fall on his butt. Not only was his body out of energy completely, his mind was drained as well. He didn't feel save here, Abaddon would search for them, for Ros' friend too. He looked up at his coat that still hung there on the door, with the artifacts inside. He didn't want to be played with either, he needed the Ros he so loathed right now, the calm Ros that would have a way out of this mess. Nathan didn't feel like getting up anymore and thus he just lay down right here on the bathroom floor. The tiredness was enough to force him to sleep as soon as he closed his eyes and so he did.

Ros' sleep was anything but peaceful - it was more akin to a fit that he hadn't had in a long time, so bad that he clawed himself into one of his pillows and tore it apart at some point during the night, which he only came to realize come morning. He still felt sluggish, none the wiser about what had happened the day before, or even the night after that, but the moment he woke up in a sea of his own hair, he sat up faster than he should've. Annoyed, he rubbed his head, checked his chest - he was still not fully healed, was he? At least the hunter wasn't so bad anymore, but he looked like he lived in the frozen wilds, between ice floats and people that had no use for a car, let alone knew what it meant to not live within a close-knit community. What was it with that look? Was he that hungry? Rubbing his face, he crawled up to look at his own reflection in his bedroom mirror, anything but human, anything but fitting - this was outdated, a youthful face, one he loathed to see so much, and all that he recalled of after yesterday was that haphazard transformation into a bird. First, Ros fixed that, and then, he got into proper clothing - long hair had never suited him, much less had that image of a wild being. Eventually, though, it hit him like a brick to the face, square into it, and he was already running around his apartment, looking for evidence.

There was no blood that he could immediately see, no torn-up corpse, only packaged flesh in the sink, but also no Nathan on the couch. He hadn't eaten this guy, had he? Roscoe trusted himself not to, but as he ran around, trying to find that man, he feared for the worst. Right now, he was himself again, and he was probably late for work - thankfully, he found Nate passed on ... the bathroom floor? Why was he there? And why was he ... no, he didn't even want to know. Instead, Ros gently picked him up with a sigh, not even checking if he really was up and able to move by himself. He moved that little beast to the couch, gave him a proper pillow and draped him in a blanket; it was early, sure, but that didn't mean that Nathan had had a fulfilling night - who knew how long he lay there. At least he didn't look any more hurt than he already was yesterday, which meant he could allow himself a quick sigh. Nate was fine, that was a relief - he hadn't become a snack, or even a chewtoy, at least as per Ros' own assumption of the situation. One hand to his head later, he made sure that this guy didn't have a fever, then started looking for his spare key as silently as he could - they were locked in, in the worst sense, but given yesterday's endeavors it was also a question of whether or not they should run before Abaddon had it out for them, or Lilya. Right now, it was like the calm before the storm - and still, he'd left all of his shit at Lilyas place, damnit.

Nathan was out cold, maybe not even sleeping, more like passed out with his brain and body having shut down to regenerate. The light in the bathroom was lit, it was bright the whole night, but it didn't bother him at all. He only slightly awoke when he felt his body move, not of his own volition. He tried to open his eyes, but his body refused even that. Sleep called him, clawed at him and ripped him from reality. Even in his now dream he was tired and unable to open his eyes, even though he so desperately wanted to. He was cold too, the bathroom tiles probably hadn't helped, the fact that he only wear a T-Shirt and underwear didn't either and of course he didn't even have a blanket. His body had so little energy it didn't produce much heat if any at all, so it felt very nice, when the cold tiles were exchanged by more comfortable cushions and a pillow and a blanket was draped over him. He could hardly heat the air underneath himself like this.

Still he wrestled himself out of his dream, realizing that when he passed out he wasn't feeling very save, neither from Ros nor from Abaddon. His eyes opened just a tiny bit, all he could see was shadows, but he was sure Ros was there. His breathing seemed... more normal, no wheezing as far as he could tell, this was good. A cold hand made him shiver as it touched his forehead. Wake up Nathan... He wanted to know what they'd do now, he wanted to talk about what happened and he wanted to apologize. "Ngh...", he groaned fighting his own body, his mind prevailing somehow as his eyes finally fluttered open. The worst hangover he ever had was nothing compared to this and the feeling was coupled with the feeling of being his by multiple trucks, then being eaten and chewed out again. Sure he cleaned Ros' apartment, but that hadn't been that much physical labor and yet all of his muscles ached as if he'd been working in a coal mine for a month without any breaks. "I'm... awake...", he needed to convince himself more than Ros.

Ros had wholeheartedly expected Nathan to stay passed out for the time being, not move an inch or even rouse from his sleep, and yet, he was proven wrong immediately when his freezing hand was enough to pull back the curtains that blinded Nathans eyes it seemed. There was nothing at first, just the usual, but before long, he did indeed make noises and seemed to be back in reality before long. Was this to be expected or was Roscoe simply too clingy with Nathan right now? Whatever the case, he gave his friend a quick glanceover and nodded. "Good morning.", he simply told Nate as he was already fussing over him for a second again. This guy looked worse than death and no amount of human flesh would fix that for him, unlike Ros, who was still in pain, but he'd be over it in a few days time at this point, at least if he gauged his food and portion size right. Which, in turn, meant that he'd have to eat more flesh, but at the very least it wouldn't be that bleak this time around, not like yesterday, if the entirety of his mixed emotions was anything to judge by. "Take it easy.", Ros muttered, but he walked to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of lukewarm water for Nate and the first pill he could find - against any sort of mild pain, like headaches.

Without even waiting for a thanks, or an answer, he sat it down on the small table that he had put some books and magazines on and moved it to where Nate lay on the sofa so it was within reach. Was he hungry now? No, that guy was a fickle thing and Ros wasn't about to actually make this his problem, or even force him to fess up on something he didn't feel like talking about, when it simply was a repeated question. When was the last time they seriously fought about dinner, anyway? It belonged to any relationship, yet both of them were close to immortal in their own way, which meant they really didn't have to make room for some shared food, never. Everything of it had been a courtesy - maybe that was why they hadn't clicked, in the end, when one of them was solely nourished by eating heaps of meat and the other could probably live off of grass stalks if he really wanted to. "Need anything?", Roscoe was quick to ask, already devising some sort of plan. Going to work was out of question today, but forcing Nathan to run places if it was useless wasn't within their best interest, either. All he could do was hope that they actually got Abaddon and he was out of the picture - he should've killed that fucker. Ros' eyes darted around the room, then fell onto the phone on the wall. "I'll make a call." Lilya wasn't a safe option, he'd just call the magistrate and ask. That was in everyones best interest.

Nathan tried to see clearly and blinked a few times, looking at Ros and his demeanor. Was he back to normal again? Well, not normal normal, but easier to talk to maybe. "You look... better...", he pointed out but probably couldn't say the same for himself. He sat up a bit, as best as he could. He wondered if he could use magic again, but not even attempting it, just raising his hand and looking at it, it shook quite obviously. Ros left for a moment or two and came back with some water and a mysterious pill. Nathan preferred to mix his own medicine, but he was also certain Ros wouldn't poison him. Now Nathan was the one somehow longing for some closeness as well, as hypocritical as that was, but he didn't say anything. He wanted to drink the water, but he wasn't sure if he could even reach for that glass of water right now, so he didn't yet. Maybe in a bit and maybe he should eat something eventually. It would help maybe, just to get some energy back.

Did he need anything? Nathan held his head, not being quite awake yet. What he needed was more sleep but aside from that, he also needed to say and talk about a lot of things. "Ros, I'm sorr-" He was already gone, headed for the phone as if he didn't want to hear an apology, or maybe Nathan just took too long to start talking. While Ros was on the phone he finally tried to grab that glass of water while also not spilling all of it. He manged to drink half of it and swallowed the pill too, then sank back into the pillow. This was much more comfortable than the bathroom and at least one worry and cause of emotional turmoil was gone for now. He pulled the blanket over his chin and lay on his side facing the backrest for now. This was comfortable, but he didn't want to fall asleep again, not before he didn't know what their current sitation and plan was.

The comment caught him off-guard, yet at the same time he could fathom what it meant. You don’t look like you’re in your early stages of humanity anymore - you look much more well-adjusted, not like the guy I fell for in the first place; but Nathan wasn’t like that, he never made snide remarks if they weren’t hands deep in one anothers hair and he knew quite well that Ros would shut him up before he could even say anything out of line. “Better than yesterday? Yeah, the meat helped. I’m still in pain.” They both had always fought every once in a while, at first it was never over anything substantial and more in jest, before it turned into a much more sinister endeavor of who could hurt the other more. Ros wasn’t happy, had dished out nasty things and often simply expected Nate to just take them - maybe that, too, had turned him away as a whole and who was he to blame this man? The weird clarity that brushed through every nook and cranny of his brain was pulling taut at him, and yet, there was nothing he could do about it in the first place - there was nothing Ros could do anything about, not when he dialed the number of his boss and then the other secretary that he employed, knowing that he’d rather get this over with.

As he now stood there, ever so slightly intrigued by what the other man told him from the other end of the line, he sighed with relief and used the opportunity to at least take the rest of the week of, for his own well-being. Ros had accrued many, many hours of overtime and even his coworker wished him a nice day - it didn’t sound like they were having one. With that known, he returned to Nate and, all things considered, brushed over his forehead one more time, checking if there was anything different now. “Good news, they have Abaddon in custody, bad news, they didn’t find any more artifacts.”, he flat-out told the sleepier guy. Were they supposed to go back in and look for them? “Or at least they didn’t tell me they found any at all, which makes it safe to assume they found something, at the very least.” With that over, Ros sat down in a chair across from the sofa he’d put Nate on. “Also sorry, you want to say something?”, he re-inquired. “I thought you had a fever but if anything you’re cold. Really cold. Are you going to be okay?”

Nathan turned and sat up a bit again when Ros came back only to get a cold hand pressed to his forehead once more. "I don't know if anyone is any safer like this... he can probably pull strings from inside a prison. What did they even get him for...? Do they know you and I were there?", Nathan wanted to know, forcing his brain to make sense of the world around him and the information he got. He changed position again, his hip and lower back hurt, probably from crashing into those chairs. There were sure to be bruises, but it was only a drip in an ocean of pain, so it didn't matter much. "I... want to look at them but... honestly I don't think I can today...", he mumbled apologetically. Did Ros even remember he gave them to Nathan? "Also I didn't come out empty handed either... I grabbed a lot of his files, all from this year that were stored anyway... buuut they are inaccessible to me at the moment..." No magic, no pocket dimension, no files.

Ros preferred getting to the point faster right? It was fine to say all this before the apology? "Yes, I...", again he was interrupted. "I feel cold... but I think it's alright... I just need to replenish my energy... honestly that thing... drained me somehow, I could barely move then and pushing my limits by teleporting through your door, avoiding your security... it probably didn't help." He didn't need to mention the cleaning. "I uh... I really hate to ask, you're hurt, but... if you have any soup, or instant noodles...? A tea? I'd take that I think..." He felt terrible to ask even more of Ros and it was finally time to say his piece. "Ros...", he mumbled before he could run to the kitchen. He even sat up more properly as best he could. "I... suck." Come on Nathan, that was true but not what he wanted to say. "I shouldn't have gone there alone, I shouldn't just have disappeared without telling you where I go... I put you in a terrible position and I am grateful for your help and I am very very very sorry." His lowered gaze now rose up to face the man he apologized to and he looked into those red eyes. "You got hurt, into trouble and probably on some sort of hit list and that's all my fault. I'm... Saying I'm sorry isn't enough, I don't have the words to tell you how sorry I am... and thankful..." He sighed. "Sorry I needed to say that..." Ros wasn't the emotional kind, he knew that and Nathan wasn't very open about his either. Still it felt like he didn't say enough.

How long had he known the other for? It was too long. By now, they both knew what worked and what didn't, how to make everything count in the way it did and how to make sure there was no subservient emotional attachment to a one-off thing that would hold them both back because they couldn't navigate past it. Such a thing never existed, or hardly ever, whatever the case or cause. "They did him in for, well, everything they could make stick. Aside from that, probably something related to me, or just anything. I don't think they implicated you, though, you're not relevant in these matters and I don't think you want to be." Unless he wanted some sort of payment from Abaddon for getting as hurt as he did - he probably had someone that could pay Nathan for him, yet Ros wasn't going to bring that up specifically. "Take your time. We're safe here, and if someone shows up, I know a way out.", Ros said with a smile, so sinister it hardly ever graced his face under any normal circumstances - but it was true. There was, for the lack of a better word, a way out that nobody would be able to follow them through, as long as they weren't kindreds of the shadows that Ros' kind lived in when they weren't pestering humans for the meat on their bones. "You did good. I'm sure those will also be of help in keeping Abaddon where he is now, and, might I add, I'll make sure he won't get out. I regret not putting the knife in his head." Roscoe was definitely still in the mood to play.

There it was, that weird confession of there something being indeed wrong with him - and food was like a soothing alternative to going insane, he was sure of that. Now, the only question that really remained what it was that would warm Nate up without Ros having to lay down with him. "I left my stuff with Lilya so in case they actually get me too, they won't find out who I am or where I am from. Should've left the spare outside, not somewhere in here. I'm sorry about that. You did well.", he praised Nate, which probably was something really uncanny for Roscoe as a person. When did he, of all people, ever hand out praise to anyone? This stunk to the high heavens, probably. Then, Ros snorted. "You hate to ask? I've been trying to get you to eat something for days, and now you think I'd deny you? I'll make you some soup, no worries. Any preference?" Maybe, eating every once in a while made him ever slightly less grumpy, as it should, and while he hoped this to be the case for further endeavors, he knew that he might as well pipe it down with opening his heart up like that again. "And I'll make you some tea, too." Just like Nathan liked it, at least that he remembered - it was an odd blend they had picked up at some point and Ros, most likely, still had some of it leftover for himself, for obvious reasons. "Hm?", he turned to look at Nate as he spoke his name, and then bit back a chuckle. What kind of confession was that? He let him talk, at least, listened to his ailments and let him collect his bearings. Only when he was done, he opened his mouth again. "We both suck. I was being quite a bit too bossy the night before, wasn't I? And upset over stupid shit, too. I am sorry as well. But either way, I accept your apology.", Roscoe was quick to admit. A new leaf was turned over, just like that. “There’s no need to apologize for apologizing. Thank you. You did well, I’m proud of you.”, Roscoe told Nate instead and reached out to ruffle through his hair, then gently pressed him back down so he’d not strain himself too much by sitting on his aching flesh. "Also, one more thing: Getting hurt was maybe a good idea. For me at least. I haven't hurt in so long, you were right, I can't take on an army. But I can take on some idiots." With that, Ros walked over to the kitchen and started setting up. Food and some tea, then.

"No, I don't, I rather have them know as little about both our involvement as possible. I appreciate you giving me those artifacts for now... and you are right about my failure of safekeeping too. I will sever the connection of my door as soon as I can... which might take a while." Right now he couldn't cast at all, not even a little bit. He hoped he would regenerate, but of course they didn't know how the artifact would effect him and Abaddon admitted to never having tried it on a mage either. For now he could only wait and once he felt a little better, he could look at those two things that were in the bathroom right now. Not the savest place. "The artifacts are in my coat in the bathroom, if you want to put them somewhere safer for now. Hopefully Ros didn't just change his mind and brought them over to the magistrate now. "As long as he doesn't know who you are, there is no reason for him to send someone here, right? What about your friend? Will she be okay? I assume he figured out it wasn't her?" Nathan sighed. Did he really deserve that compliment? "Well... I suppose your colleagues would have found those anyway, now that they are already there... but then again they wouldn't be if I hadn't caused this mess." He looked at Ros for a moment in silence. He wasn't sure if he was still hungry, or if he was overly protective.

"No, it's fine, leaving the key outside would have been very unsafe.", Nathan responded and even if he himself would have had one, he would have stored it safely in his pocket dimension and thus not have it too. "Tomato.", he answered the food question still feeling bad that Ros had to run around for him when he was hurt too. "Thanks." Maybe some hot tea would actually warm him up. His apology accepted he still felt Ros was too lenient. It was wrong of Nathan to just leave like he did, vanish even, Ros couldn't even yell after him and he knew it made him upset years ago that Nathan always just vanished whenever he didn't want to deal with something. He looked up when his hair was ruffled and frowned. "I'm not a kid.", he told Ros as he was pushed back on the pillow. Was Ros just playing pretend? As if this was all fine? Or was he truly happy to be reminded of his limits? He was already gone to the kitchen and Nathan closed his eyes for a bit.

Ros put on an apron and got to it - at least he had that stuff home, and even if not, he probably had it in the freezer. Was it fresh enough? Who even knew. His principles about food were buying it fresh and if it would go bad before he ate it, he usually chopped it up or made something out of it, then froze it for when the need arose. Contrary to popular belief, though, he never housed many guests and his haphazard state of picking apart his entire kitchen - no, his fridge and freezer - came to him in a washed out vision he could ever so hardly really gauge. There were diced tomatoes in the freezer, much like there was some heavy cream in the fridge and some leftover chicken stock if he needed it - there also was thawed flesh in the sink, and Ros bit back for once. This wasn’t about him, even as he felt it creep back into his head; he was still hungry, and he loathed to be. For now he had to take care of his guest, though. One pot, some oil and salt later, he at least had that going for him and the tea was already brewing as well, so, for all intents and purposes, he brought that over to Nate as well, setting it down on the “bedside” table he’d made him. What a mess. Was this even comfortable?

“You don’t owe me any agency.”, Ros reminded Nate. “I just have my own opinion on how things should work, and I won’t stop you if that’s what you think is best. I just think we have very differing opinions sometimes and today, I don’t want to think about them.”, he explained his stance away. Nathan looked about as pale as the frost on a mountain of snow would, and he seemed to behave as such as well. Naturally, he was spent, without the shadow of a doubt about it. “And I know you’re not a kid.” In the end, he’d simply felt like making sure everything was alright in his own way - who could blame him? With some time on his hands, Ros grabbed the coat from the bathroom and draped it over the chair across the sofa, then went back to cooking. Truly, it didn’t take long for an aroma to fill the air, at least not when Ros added some garlic and tomato paste to the mix, and really, whatever else he had there to make things coherent with - if his tastebuds worked the same, he’d have said this probably tasted delightful, but to him, it was very much like cardboard or even plastic would taste to a regular mage. Still, that was fine. As he turned off the stove, he brought Nate a bowl and a spoon, then went back to the phone on the wall to check on Lilya - Nathan always cared about the less fortunate in his own way, didn’t he? And now it was infecting Ros. “Are you alright?” “You never ask that sort of thing, did you hit your head? Of course I am! And now stop bothering me at work!”, she yelled at him, causing him to snort. Nothing had changed, then? Funny.

At least until the soup was done he should stay awake. He wasn't sure how easy it would be to wake him once he did and he rather warmed up beforehand. The tea Ros put on the table was a nice distraction, he nipped on it to keep himself awake and the warmth was nice, but almost too much on his cold skin. Nathan left the meat in the kitchen and only cleaned the blood off the floor. Ros should just eat if he was hungry, but he probably wouldn't. "If these things work like I think they do neither my vault nor any bank is save. Someone has to just be smart enough to conjure the right pathway and then use these things...", Nathan mumbled. It was better if he got rid of that stuff and where it would end up, nobody would be able to find it. Ros didn't want to talk about it though, while Nathan was worried about all the implications. These artifacts were able to disrupt their whole world easily, so many things were based on magic.

While Ros went back to the kitchen, Nathan actually reached for his coat and pulled out one of the artifacts they took with them. He might as well occupy his mind and hands until the soup was ready. He couldn't undo any seals, not without any magic and he was better off not doing that anyway. He could look at it though, at any markings or runes, at the materials and their age. Right now it was a smooth silver surface shaped as a cube. No runes, no nothing and also nothing that indicated it was old. He wasn't sure what the material was and he wasn't going to find out by staring at it. He remembered seeing something green when it was activated, now he saw nothing of it, it had to be inside, so that meant one could open the casing. Any magic that maybe lingered he could not see or feel, not in his current state and he wondered how it was protected from the artifacts power. When Ros came back Nathan put the artifact on the table and exchanged it for the soup. Ros went to call someone and that someone yelled so loudly Nathan could hear the woman from where he sat. The mage didn't comment and only started speaking when Ros came back. "Has this artifact affected you at all?", he wanted to know while slurping his soup. "Abaddon said werewolves are not able to turn when it is activated, so they stay human unless it is a full moon... I'm surprised he didn't have... well... more of a problem around you."

With that out of the way he felt courteous to at least inform Nathan. "My coworker is fine, since you were wondering. I don't think it affected her that much, maybe it's even a favor to her, in a way." Getting her in danger not so much, but ridding her of her last attachments to her former boss for sure. With all that out of the way, however, there was just about a few things he could be left wondering many a thing about. "You're right. But you can't conjure any of that right now. Just rest up and we'll get rid of it once you're feeling like you actually can use any sort of magic, alright?", he implored his former friend and current partner in crime, if one could even count a bit of petty thievery as a crime, so to speak. What was important was that they recovered, as soon as possible, staked out their next step in the way and then got to it. Ros could think of a few things, like trying to use the artifacts they had taken with them to trace them back to their maker, or making sure that nobody knew about the existence of those things in the first place - knowing the magistrate, they'd dispose of them the first chance they had, maybe leave a sample size they could reference and then brush it under the rug, so nobody got any funny ideas. Which, Nathan might argue, was stupid. Even Ros did, for once.

With the food delivered, Ros went back to the kitchen to take of the apron and actually indulge in a sameself meal, though, he couldn't bring himself to right now - he felt disgusted just by looking at it and the texture of stale, packaged meat became disgusting in his mind's eye. He should fry it off when he got the chance, maybe even spice it a bit and then pretend like he was eating a meal, a ridiculously large one, and not actually cannibalising some poor soul that had left them months ago. Somehow, he still loathed it, as if he'd grown a spine and moral complex among all of those years of ruthless slaughter and painful death of others he never seemed to give a fuck about. Or maybe, just maybe, Nate made him too soft, all at once. As he came back, he had brought himself a smaller bowl and some tea, too, that he put on the coffee table - he sank into the chair and looked at Nathan, who was hard at work, actually. "Hm, let's see. I tried stabbing Abaddon, but before I could even form some sort of icicle, it failed to form. Abaddon still knew I was trying to stab him with something magical and put his knife in my chest instead. I'd have been a goner for real if my heart was on the right side. Like this, it just hurts a bit too much." Enough to be uncomfortable and make him adjust his sitting position for once. Ros was, all things considered, glad that he looked like his current and not his former self again. That thing was simply too much. "Hm, I think, though, that's because we're fundamentally different. Well, truth be told actually, I didn't even try to shift when it was, well, on. I somehow turned it off and assumed that because it ate all of my ice magic, it wouldn't work on my transformation - but that isn't magic, really.", Roscoe explained away and, with a wave of his hand, tried conjuring some ice for the two of them. Nothing on his side either. "So that doesn't work, still." How annoying. "Anyways, as I was saying. And you were saying. Werewolves would, naturally, only turn during a full moon, right? And I assume his regular shapeshifters didn't have much of an issue with turning into something that's ... their clients style. Given, it could also be a radius thing."

"That's nice.", Nathan replied about Ros coworker and kept eating the soup he got. It didn't warm him up as much as he hoped it would. He was shivering and he felt like he would even if he sat himself into some fire. "Yeah I know...", Nathan mumbled and with the soup quickly gone leaned back again. He pulled the blanket around himself and made himself a little cocoon that would hopefully keep him warm. He pulled it all the over over his nose, just his eyes peeking out. He glanced at the artifact on the table again, what a wretched thing that was. Ros meanwhile returned to the kitchen, hopefully eating himself. Even if the hunger wasn't affecting him as much anymore, it had been affecting him too much in a dangerous situation. He came back with his own bowl that hopefully contained what he needed and not just what he'd like to need instead. "I don't want to be nagging, but... maybe you should eat your fill. We don't know what else might happen, now that we... I... disturbed the hornets nest."

Maybe it would help with him healing too. He did tell him it would heal on it's own somehow, but surely only if he had energy to spare. "I'm sorry.", Nathan apologized once more, "Also about the... mh... kissing part." He was surprised Ros didn't chop off Abaddons head if he was completely honest. "I'm somehow surprised it effects your magic as well... but I know nothing about your physiology if I'm honest..." Then Nathan shook his head. "Actually when I ran and teleported through the building, he could only catch me once I left the lower floors. I am fairly sure it has to do with radius, because he told his guards to keep it around me. Either way, he didn't want to use it down there, because I assume his shape shifters and clients might have had a problem then and I caused enough of a ruckus. I also... feel it when it's on. It truly sucks the life out of me, as would feel fairies and the likes I assume. Once it was off I felt much lighter already, but... well, it seems it'll effect me for a while longer. I can't even feel magic right now... it's... odd... I guess I know how humans feel now. Magic is the only reason I am as old as I am... I'm at the very least grateful I didn't age rapidly or something like that... though I feel like I'm a thousand years old."