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"Massster..." this came from a disembodied head floating in front of Raistlin's desk. The archmagus didn't look up immediately, busy scratching writing onto a piece of flattened parchment, the quill in his thin golden fingers practically vibrating with the speed of his notes.

Genessia was a land of fascinating marvels. He'd be sure not to forget a single one.

"Masssster pleasssse," the head tried a second time.

Finally, Raistlin glanced up, impatient at the interruption. "What?"

"Therrrre is an intruderrr in the Grrove."

That. That was interesting, and Raistlin's hand finally stilled. "In the Grove, you say?"

"Yesssss. The defenderrrssss have not been able to kill it..."

Extremely interesting. Something from Genessia, no doubt, nothing else would make sense. The blackrobe dabbed the last of the ink off the feather quill onto a pad and set the instrument aside, and then took the time to carefully close up the inkwell. This could take a while.

And so it was that whatever this stranger was doing, he suddenly wasn't the only living creature in the dark, ancient grove. Raistlin lurked in the deepest shadows, silently watching.

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Holy fuck. What?

Not that Raistlin could comment on -- this, whatever this was -- at the moment, too busy trying to get air--

He'd be easy enough to get onto the bench, at least.

Well, after a moment, he would just... carefully begin to ease him towards the bench. Unless instructed otherwise, the other man would be helped down.

After which, yes, he'd be released and allowed to sit without Wade clinging to him.

Despite the obvious moment of hesitation on Wade's part. Nothing was mentioned, but that moment where he seemed like he might just not let go was probably obvious enough.

Still coughing hard into one hand, Raistlin's other still snapped out to latch onto Wade's arm, gripping hard enough to be white-knuckled again.

Can't talk yet but don't you fucking go anywhere.

Welp.

And so the merc settled down right next to him, comfy as you please, just letting the wizard grip his arm in that iron grasp.

Not going anywhere, don't you worry. Still nothing said about it, lounging next to Raistlin as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Finally, some goddamned air.

"Is that--"

Is that this chroma shit they were just talking about.

"Yep." He knew where that question was going. "That's chroma. Trust me, I know what it feels like, I've spent like... the whole day giving out surprise high-fives."

To the back of the head and whatever asses looked particularly unguarded.

Wheeeeeze, cough.

It was already starting to calm, this fit. There was almost as much air making it into him as back out with each awful hitch of his lungs.

Record speed, really.

The feeling of magic could have that effect on him. Easing his throat, warming his bones. Magic was as much soothing blanket to his raw senses as it was all-consuming inferno, as much a part of him as his very blood.

Having it return so quickly was... new.

That grip eased, but didn't release. "And it costs... nothing?"

Other than having to touch someone, and having to deal with the constant drain without it...

He sounded like he was getting better! Good, he wouldn't want to embarrass the man by having to carry him to another house.

"Nothing but a few minutes of your time and some awkward conversation!" Speaking of which.

"Still smell nice by the way."

"I will take that under advisement."

The whole lot, really. Maybe get Wade some spell components of his own since he likes the smell so goddamned much.

Finally better enough to retrieve the cloth from its usual hidden pocket, dabbing the blood away from his mouth. One-handed, of course. The one on Wade's arm wasn't going anywhere just yet.

Best friends!

Yeah he'd noticed that Raistlin had yet to let go of him, but really, that was just fine for Wade. The constant, low level undercurrent of pleasant fuzzy chroma generation was comfortable. No reason to fuck that up! He wouldn't even hurry him along.

Any regen was better than degen, and Raistlin was finding this more than a little fascinating, on top of being a relief.

It was quite probable that he'd cast magic on that damn moon, trying to figure out where he was and what was happening.

The mage was very drained, a full day of zero incoming chroma later.

"Magic does not come from nothing. I still cannot fathom how simple contact can create anything."

"Beats the hell out of me man, I dropped out of school." Couldn't even begin to fathom how any of this worked, and by the sound of it, he didn't have much drive to figure it out anyway.

A bit too busy annoying everyone around him for scraps of chroma and starting street fights.

"Feels great though!"

"Ugh."

Raistlin don't be such a pissy bast--

And there he went, snatching his hand back from Wade's arm, although he did visibly wilt a little in place. Wasn't running on much but fumes to start with, the stubborn ass.

Well that's fine. Wade tugged his mask up, if only to yank one glove off with his teeth.

And deposit that hand directly on top of Raistlin's head.

"Don't be an asshole, it's free."

The reaction was instantaneous, Raistlin both shying away and reaching up to snatch at the hand on his head, intent to shove it away. "What are you--"

Everything derailed the moment his hand latched onto Wade's. Skin contact. That was a lot more intense. The mage just sort of froze up at that point, completely derailed.

"Helping." HE'S A HELPER. Look, ninety nine point nine percent of the time, he'd listen. He would. But there were two factors at play here.

First of all, it was... incredibly difficult to not latch on to someone. He was enjoying that constant current of chroma, and it was nearly painful to lose it all of a sudden.

And second... Well, he'd been told exactly what happened when one burned all of their chroma. It wasn't actually a fate he would wish on Raistlin, of all people. He figured the second the wizard came into contact with his skin, there might, perhaps, be a change of heart in completely separating.

Well, that was... that was something. Although the very fact that he automatically physically relaxed irritated Raistlin to no end, there was no arguing that the influx of power was far stronger this time.

He almost felt... okay. For him, anyway.

"Fascinating."

Naturally, nerdiness immediately took precedence over annoyance.

"I know right? I haven't tried touching people without the gloves yet but I didn't wanna start up any rumors of a hideous flesh eating disease epidemic."

He shifted a bit, getting good and comfortable on the bench.

"By the way, I don't think I need to tell you this, pretty sure you figured it out but, if you don't keep up the chroma levels, you die."

"Naturally," Raistlin sounded bitter, he couldn't help it. "If there is some new manner in which death can loom over my head, it will always do so."

Between his general health, and his cursed vision, death was a constant companion. Why not add a whole new element to it?

"You and I have quite opposite experiences with death. I stand in my own grave, clawing after immortality in much the same way you chase after death."

"Living forever isn't all it's cracked up to be, but I guess that might be a matter of opinion." After all, maybe Raistlin would find a way to actually enjoy not dying. Who knew!

Wade certainly couldn't see any bonuses to his immortality.

"The oblivion of death, of no longer having a mind to think... the finality of it all. Being here, and real, and then no longer being at all..."

That shit, right there, that terrified the mage. It had ever since he'd watched Gilon slip away on that cart, bled out from a freak logging accident. And then Rosamun had wasted away slowly and with great agony, no matter what he'd done to try to help her. It had been like she was running from him, charging after death and he just couldn't keep up.

Plenty of people had died in front of Raistlin since, but his parents had definitely left an impression. Especially coupled with his health.

"Not all immortality is worth having. What I tore from the Gods was more curse than not. Taking their power changed me just as much as death may have."

Thus he'd screwed with the timeline some more and avoided it outright.

But hey, acknowledgement that some forms of immortality sucked, right? Wade's certainly didn't seem to be a picnic.

Edited 2019-08-22 04:29 (UTC)

Well... at least he acknowledged not all immortality was the same! Wade picked at an open sore at his jaw, just as the lesion was starting to heal up.

"I guess if you think everyone sucks, you don't really lose too much when everyone dies." An idea he was familiar with, once. A long time ago now, it seemed. He still understood that idea, even if it no longer really applied to him.

"As long as the terms and conditions don't suck dick, it'd probably be great to be young and hot and not full of tumors or hacking up a lung until the heat death of the universe. Could probably get a lot done."

"I see them die anyway, whenever I don't blink fast enough."

Thanks Par-Salain, your plan really h e l p e d his connection to other mortals.

A+ work, whiterobe.

"Oh yeah. I guess dead people that are already dead would actually be a one hundred percent improvement then."

Good job, Par-Salain.

Best whiterobe ever, truly. Just a real paragon of good choices.

"Quite."

Raistlin finally remembered he could move, and picked Wade's hand up off his head. That shit was awkward. But he didn't let go, just letting their hands fall naturally between them.

"How long does this even go for."