aftercare

[duke_of_illusions]

Barma wakes up an hour or so later, yawning.

Reaching to check on Al right away.

Comments

[duke_of_illusions]

The world goes absolutely black. Blacker than the darkest night, without a speck of light in it, and Barma is suddenly out of arm's reach.

[al_truism]

Yes.

The thrill runs down his toes, despite the fact that he's left groping in the dark for him.

[duke_of_illusions]

He leaves him there. Ten seconds, twenty- fear play is for fear.

[al_truism]

The darkness and silence make Al wonder if Barma's blinded him, deafened him, or if it's only illusion.

Gradually, his heart rate increases, and a soft sound works its way out of him. He's breathing faster.

Normally it would take much more than this.

[duke_of_illusions]

Something winds around him in the dark, constricting him, pinning him tight to the bed, all silken and soft.

[al_truism]

He goes with it slowly, muscles moving only when forced to, trembling -- but enjoying the sensation all the same, simply because he knows it's a part of Barma.

His breathing gets a little louder, and he parts his lips for more air.

[duke_of_illusions]

Suddenly, abruptly, things fade back to normal. Barma is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking worried.

"I'm sorry to cut things off, Al, but-"

There's sound, coming from the hall.

[al_truism]

He comes back shaking, curled up behind him. He can't think of anyone who would come, not right now.

As close to his fears as he is, his mind flashes to the worst possible scenario.

He reaches for Barma's hand.

[duke_of_illusions]

"You're really out of it."

Squeezing his hand, giving his forehead a kiss.

"Wait here. I'll go check what's happening."

No one's knocking- but there's yelling, distantly. Barma climbs off the bed, extricating himself from him gently.

"Stay. Are you going to be all right?"

[al_truism]

Al watches him for a moment, still wide-eyed, but moves quickly to his feet. He's unsteady.

"I'm not letting you walk out there alone."

It's stupid, Barma could take care of himself far better than Al could ever protect him, and he's so off that he's probably more of a liability.

[duke_of_illusions]

"You're staying."

And his illusion slips out the door. Barma himself, carefully tucked out of sight, settles in to play.

The door snicks shut, and audibly locks.

[al_truism]

Al follows him to the door regardless, though when it slams in his face, it's enough of a shock to make Al utterly forget that he can unlock it. Or transmute it open.

He stays for a few seconds, trembling, then carefully slides down to sit by the door, listening hard.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Have you cleared the rooms on this floor?" Someone asks, loudly, "Yes, the duke came out of that one- we have to hurry to the next level up, come on, there's a chance of ferrying water down, it's clear-"

The hall door slams. More running.

[al_truism]

Al's still short of breath. If it's dangerous, if something happens-

Barma will come back for him. He wouldn't leave him here. Not unless he couldn't come back.

[duke_of_illusions]

Five minutes of silence.

Then the power shorts out. There's still the light of the windows, but nothing coming in from under the door. The building power is down. Everything is very quiet.

[al_truism]

Al opens his mouth to call out for him, but thinks better of it. His mind is still a tangled mess.

But Barma wouldn't leave him here. He trusts him. Utterly.

He'll come back for him.

[duke_of_illusions]

The room starts to smell like smoke. It begins to trickle, gently, around the frame- Barma has built walls of illusion a few inches within the real walls of the room. He heats up the doorknob, gently, begins to raise the temperature, so gradually it'll take a long time to sink in.

[al_truism]

It doesn't occur to him at first. His mind is so scattered that his senses are dulled. He stays on the floor and tries to rationalize it out. Maybe there's an emergency. A fight he's breaking up.

Some urgent business he's been called away for.

Al stays where he is, until the smells starts making him cough, and his throat feels dry.

It slowly begins to dawn on him.

"Rufus?" he whispers into the silence. "Dodo-?"

[duke_of_illusions]

Orange light. Crackling. Beams groaning, the tell tale popping- and the air above him starts to fill up with smoke. The door won't give.

[al_truism]

Al begins to cough, tearing up and staying low.

He goes to the window, looks out-

[duke_of_illusions]

Crowds are gathered on the grass outside. Barma is nowhere to be seen among them.

The sound of the flames are getting closer.

[al_truism]

Al moves to the door, sets a hand to it, feeling, and touches the knob lightly.

"Rufus-"

It's a raspy whisper at first.

[duke_of_illusions]

It's hot to the touch. Everything is foggy with smoke, now.

[al_truism]

Al doesn't bother transmuting it open. He coughs again, goes to the bed and pulls away the pillowcases. He dumps the contents of his water glass over them, rolls them up and shoves them into the crevices around the door.

He goes to the window again, scanning the crowd. He might have missed him, somehow-

[duke_of_illusions]

His arms fold about him, from behind.

"You didn't think I'd leave you, did I?"