spotsalone | angelo and the hickster's post-belle arctic adventures

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angelo and the hickster's post-belle arctic adventures

CORNELIUS HICKEY
caulker's mate (T)
alive

ANGELO SAUPER
lieutenant (NZ)
alive

SOLOMON TOZER
marine, sergeant (T)
alive

GEORGE HODGSON
lieutenant (T)
alive

MAGNUS MANSON
ab (T)
alive

EDWARD LITTLE
lieutenant (T)
alive, 1 hp

CHARLES DES VOEUX
mate (E)
alive

WILLIAM PILKINGTON
marine, private (E)
alive

JOHN LANE
boatswain (T)
alive

JOHN DIGGLE
cook (T)
alive, lung damage

JOHN SULLIVAN
capt. of the maintop (E)
alive

JAMES RIGDEN
coxswain (E)
alive

ROBERT FERRIER
ab (T)
alive

ROBERT THOMAS
mate (T)
dead, scurvy

THOMAS ARMITAGE
gunroom steward (T)
dead, tuunbaq

JAMES DALY
marine, private (T)
dead, tuunbaq

EDMUND HOAR
captain's steward (E)
dead, tuunbaq

THOMAS TERRY
boatswain (E)
dead, scurvy

THOMAS WORK
ab (T)
dead, scurvy

HARRY GOODSIR
surgeon (E)
alive, rescued

code by pagans

angelo cr chart
mutineers cr chart...

timeline:

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[ Elias pushes in as deeply as he can go, shuddering as Angelo cinches around him, but it still doesn't feel like enough. More, Angelo whines, and Elias ruts hard into him as if he has any more to give.

They belong to each other now. It's that thought that finally burns up the last of his composure.

He props himself up on his elbows, wishing the bed were wider as he negotiates for a better angle. His hips work into a steady rhythm, heavy and deliberate, fully seating himself inside with each thrust. Angelo wants every part of him, and that's what he'll get.

Elias rises up to look at Angelo and his eyes are hazy with hunger, jaw slack as he pants, hair hanging in his face. He's lost in the overwhelm. One last thread of rational thought urges him to remember discretion—they could easily be overheard with Angelo moaning like he is—but he can't bring himself to hold back. Whatever the consequences, he'll resolve them in the morning. He won't compromise Angelo's first brush with ecstasy. ]

You're so— mmnh—

[ The words dissolve into a groan. He scoops his arm under Angelo's shoulders, cradling him as his head drops again to press into the pillow. Harder, faster... He can't help himself. His other hand slides between them to close around Angelo's cock, eager to see what other sounds he can get out of him. ]

[ Closer, closer, closer - as close as they can go. That's how it feels when Elias holds him tightly, pressing them both into the thin mattress with his weight and fervent thrusting. Angelo could disappear in him like this, completely shielded from the world. No bright lights can reach him here, there's just hot twilight; the dim lamps of the ship and the perfect darkness of burying his face in Elias' shoulder and muffling his moans against his body.

He could hold the noises back if he tried, but he's past the point of wanting to try. Elias' hand is stroking him to match the way his cock is reaching every hidden part of him, and Angelo feels light-headed with it. It's reminiscent of the foggy bliss he'd get from the rare good drug trip back in the day, but now it's entirely from within. He wants, he wants, he wants. ]

Elias, ah-- Elias...

[ Gasped against his shoulder, hot lips trailing over his skin. He likes when I say his name is one of the few conscious thoughts that floats through Angelo's mind as he tries to rut back against Elias' hips, chasing sensation. Before they began, Angelo had entertained thoughts of putting his skills to use, but what he is doing now is a lot less practiced, simply graceless instinct.

He doesn't know how long they've been losing themselves in this rhythm, but he does know that he won't last much longer, with all this tension pooling tightly in his gut. ]

-- everything-- I want--

[ It's hardly a full thought to begin with and he doesn't finish it before his mind goes blank and he spills over Elias' hand and his own chest. He's clinging to Elias tightly the whole way through, not willing to compromise on even an inch of their togetherness. He's lost in his own pleasure now, for the first time, but it's only Elias' body that can anchor him in it, keep him from getting lost in nameless anxieties instead. He wants to melt into him, shuddering sweaty mess that he is, and never resurface. ]

[ Few things give Elias more satisfaction than watching a man unravel beneath him. It's different with Angelo, better, all the familiar lust and pride layered with relief and adoration. Curiosity, too. The Angelo wrapped around him is novel, needy and shuddering and raw, a version of him dredged to the surface for Elias' eyes only. Even now, so swallowed by desire himself that he can hardly think, Elias registers how precious this is—and that Angelo will likely find it embarrassing and unbecoming in the aftermath.

He shouldn't. The muffled moans, Elias breathed into his skin, Angelo's pelvis canting up to meet his— What an intoxicating picture. They haven't had much luck communicating through words, and now, they finally understand each other.

Angelo breaks just as Elias starts to feel his own crescendo building. There's a moment when he thinks he'll be able to hang on a little bit longer, but then Angelo jerks in his hand and throbs around his cock and it's too much, it's too much— ]

Fuck... Ah, Angelo—

[ He grabs for Angelo's thigh as he drives in desperately, spending hard inside of him in hot, heavy pulses. He stifles a groan, burying his face in Angelo's hair as he claims him. His. His grip on Angelo's leg is tight enough to hurt.

He thrusts lazily once, twice more as his orgasm quells, exhausted yet not quite ready to be finished. It's all he can do to lower himself gently onto Angelo rather than collapsing entirely, lungs heaving, skin flushed and damp with sweat. Angelo's cum is striped across both their chests, and God does Elias love the feel of it, both of them a mess from one another.

Will Angelo find this disgusting too, he wonders? There's an inherent sloppiness to sex, one that Elias enjoys as part of the fun. Sex is not meant to be a pristine, sterile thing. He suspects they will disagree on this point, but he doesn't care. He'll clean them both up in a minute. Maybe two.

First, he's going to drink in the afterglow. He shifts just enough to position them for comfort over utility, though he doesn't pull out just yet. ]

...You smell nice.

[ The first words to leave his mouth without his permission in who knows how long. His voice is soft and absent, like he's barely registered he's said anything at all. ]

[ It's difficult for Angelo to catch his breath, with Elias still on top of him, inside him, all around him. They're one. He's been swallowed up completely, become part of someone else. And it felt... it feels--

Angelo's fingers, which had been tightly digging into Elias' shoulder blades, finally relax and his hands drop down to rest on the small of Elias' back instead. His skin is still burning up with residual heat from their union, their consummation, their--

You smell nice.

There's a little laugh from Angelo, startled and shaky. His voice is quiet, a little dreamy. ]

...now of all times to say this...?

[ All his efforts with soap and perfume must surely be washed away by the sweaty sheen covering his body, leaving him like any other body. Just meat, just flesh, just--

-- it felt good.

His mind is a jumble, but the finished thought cuts through him like a clear ring from a bell through white noise. It felt good. For the first time in his life, he'd been craving more rather than merely lying back and waiting until it was all over. With Elias inside him, he'd been desperate for it, to have him deeper and harder, pressing up against all the most sensitive parts of himself. A feeling he could not have imagined for himself, that didn't factor even into his most private fantasies. Wanting. ]

[ Elias laughs too. He breathes a sigh into Angelo's hair, squeezing with the arm still wrapped around Angelo's shoulders. ]

So critical.

[ It's a joke, and although he's tempted to take it one step further and poke fun at how Angelo was just practically begging to be fucked, he knows better.

He's reluctant to untangle their limbs just yet, but if he lets himself melt too much, he'd be more than content to fall asleep like this. With a slight grumble, he extracts his arm from under Angelo and reaches over the side of the bed. He paws blindly for a moment before finding the topmost drawer there, where he had the forethought to stash some essentials earlier in the day.

He kisses Angelo's cheek and then lazily lifts himself up, back to his knees, so he can wipe away the mess with a washcloth nicked from the sick bay. ]

[ Elias slides out from inside him and Angelo thinks Ah. That's gross. which is at least a familiar feeling, though totally mismatched with the strange physical glow that has settled over all of him. He'd known that there wouldn't be condoms in the early Middle Age, and it's certainly far from his first time doing it raw, but... Ugh, I'm filled with--

The thought doesn't continue, because regarding this as 'filth' like he used to suddenly feels wrong. It's not filth, it's not clean, it's just... It's cum, nothing more or less. Maybe it really is that simple. So why does trying to wrap his mind around it threaten to make him feel sick?

It's good that Elias is already on the case to try and clean them up a little, which Angelo lets happen without really moving. He's worn out, physically, and his mind feels as though it's been wrapped in cotton. Angelo watches him with a dazed expression, and his vision feels blurred. It takes a second until he realizes that it's tears filling his eyes. ]

... are you always so well-prepared...?

[ Elias' attention is on the work in front of him, carefully cleaning the stickiness off of Angelo's chest and stomach before it dries. He's far less delicate on himself once it's his turn, but he's still taking his time in appreciating Angelo's body now that he's no longer swept up in lust. He really is gorgeous, isn't he? No wonder so many men were willing to pay a high price for a night with him. A dark thought, but nonetheless true.

He's half a second late in conjuring up some quip at being asked about sleeping with others, his mind still waking up again. It works in his favor, though. When he glances up, his grin falters. Something is wrong.

He freezes, unsure of how to interpret the tears, but he does reach for Angelo's hand. ]

Are you alright?

[ It's the question that finally makes Angelo sit up a little, raising the hand that Elias isn't holding to rub at his own eyes. It's tears alright, and now that he's noticed them, they only seem to replenish. It's been a long time since he truly cried. Tears are for violations or for nightmares, neither of which are anywhere close to this. Sure, he's filthy now, filthier than he was before, but it wasn't--- It's not right to cry about this. It's not right, but... ]

I don't...

[ It had felt so warm to be with Elias. He'd felt so complete, wrapped up in another person. Swallowed up and consumed, yet not diminished. This whole time, this whole entire time, that capacity had still rested within him. ]

I am alright, so why...

[ He grips Elias' hand tightly, as if he's holding onto him yet again. ]

[ Elias frowns, equal parts concerned and confused. Tears are a foreign thing to him. Surely the last time he cried himself was as a child—because the lashing did not count. That was a mechanical response brought on by pain alone. Emotional overwhelm is another thing entirely, and yet Angelo says he's fine and Elias believes him.

So...? What is this? ]

It has... been a tiring day.

[ Loathe as he is to remind either of them of their earlier argument, perhaps that is the cause. Relief can bring about tears, can't it? Or exhaustion? They've fought twice now in quick succession over something important to Angelo, something raw that clearly still eats at him. And obviously his relationship to sex has been a fraught one, but Elias doesn't see why he should be upset over that given this experience has been a good one.

He thinks, anyway. Under no circumstances will be be so pathetic as to ask if Angelo enjoyed himself, but he must have, right?

At a loss for what else to do, he tosses the washcloth to the floor. Then, he pulls up a blanket from the foot of the bed and nudges Angelo over a little so they can settle in together under it. ]

Come here.

[ The blanket is rough, nothing like the sheets from his childhood that he remembers more clearly than his father's voice, but Angelo knows that it is freshly washed because he'd taken that duty upon himself. Scratchy linens, washed in seawater... A thin mattress soaked in their sweat... It's a poor excuse for what he really wants, but it's more than he's ever had before. And isn't it just fitting? Their imperfect doomed affections, their dirtied souls... This is the best they can be. Purity is so far beyond them.

And yet Angelo is glad to slot his shamefully naked body right against Elias', seeking to prolong the feeling of togetherness that has bloomed between them. The tears continue falling and there is no amount of stubbornness that seems to want to stop them, so Angelo surrenders himself. ]

... I thought my body had long forgotten how to feel this way.

[ A quiet admission as he wraps his arm around Elias' waist and intertwines their legs. It is followed by a small strangled sob. His body really is a traitor. ]

[ Angelo readily curls against him—a good sign, despite the sob that follows. Elias shifts awkwardly, still unsure of how to best respond, though drawing Angelo into him and pressing a kiss against his forehead is probably a good start.

Forgotten how to feel this way... It makes sense and it doesn't, and his attempts to wrap his head around the sentiment are hindered by the fogginess in his own mind. ]

Well, I'm glad it hasn't.

[ How horrible it would be for his bliss to be one-sided. He'd said he didn't want to enjoy this at Angelo's expense, and he meant it. He trails his hand over Angelo's back. ]

That's a good thing, isn't it? You said you wanted to forget. Now you can, with time. Overwrite them all.

[ It won't be so simple. Even he knows that, but maybe if he pretends it will be... His confidence has rubbed off on Angelo before. ]

Edited 2025-08-25 01:03 (UTC)

[ It is a good thing, because it has to be. He's proven what he wanted to prove, gone above and beyond in it. This should be a triumph, for them both. Though Angelo can't give Elias what he wants emotionally, physically he is a perfect match. Even now that their ecstasy has subsided, his body slots perfectly against Elias', warmth sustaining warmth under the protective cover of the blanket. It's a victory, and he still can't bring himself to feel smug about it. No, his emotions are as strange and unpredictable as these tears, impossible to hold on to. ]

You'd like that, wouldn't you? Overwrite every single of those times, one by one?

[ He tilts his head so he can press a kiss to Elias' lips, chaste and soft. There's a shaky smile playing at his lips - the teasing would come across better if his face wasn't still wet with tears, but there's nothing he can do about that right now. ]

You have your work cut out for you.

[ Oh, it's his job now, is it? Elias was not expecting Angelo to be so demanding in the afterward, but he's fond of it. Angelo wants something from him, a more or less tangible goal to accomplish by their being together. Transactional, and lovingly so. This is not a task Angelo could give to anyone else. Perhaps this is what he meant when the two of them were sitting on the palace stairs, covered in blood and sharing a cigarette. Make it worth my while. He doubts this was the specific outcome Angelo had in mind as he listed that condition, but it fits nonetheless. ]

I'm not worried. I've faced far more insurmountable challenges and come out ahead.

[ Far more unpleasant challenges, as well. The ask is hardly anything that he wouldn't already do, and happily.

Elias cups Angelo's cheek in his hand, brushing away tears with his thumb. He still doesn't quite understand them and no longer wants to, so he's removing them from the equation. ]

Stay here tonight. With me.

[ A very bad idea, but he doesn't care. They can get away with it once. ]

[ It's difficult to stop crying entirely, but even as tears keep refilling his eyes, Angelo tries to pay it no further mind. This is not an occasion for tears. Their consummate relationship feels fresh and new, the crumbling foundations from earlier filled in with new mortar. As long as they can have this, maybe the end won't come so quickly. As long as the hand-washed sheets can cover them both... ]

I will.

[ The offer is a relief, a solution for a problem he hadn't wholly thought about facing yet. But the thought of going back to his own cabin, smelling of sweat and sex and aching from underprepared penetration... It makes him shudder. He'd much rather remain right here, Elias' arms wrapped tightly around him. As long as Elias is here, to look at him like he's precious...

He'll be able to forget the way his face looked earlier today, the hurt in his eyes, the horrifying gulf opening up between.

Angelo runs his hand along Elias' upper arm, just enjoying the feeling of skin on skin for nothing but its own sake. He hadn't thought it pleasant before, so it's new to explore. ]

... this is what it's all meant to feel like, isn't it?

[ Meant to feel like. It's a loaded question, likely moreso than intended. Angelo has never experienced the joy of basking in the afterglow, or of fucking for the sake of more than just physical pleasure. All of this is new to him and old hat to Elias, so Angelo believes, and the question is only asking for confirmation that he's landed where he's supposed to. That's likely all it is.

But a similar sentiment had been lurking in Elias' head already, simmering just under the surface of conscious thought. This is what he wants all of this to feel like. It's what he wanted the first night they kissed, and again today instead of arguing over the Captain. He wants this easy yet all-encompassing affection, for both of them to be lost in each other, thinking of nothing but themselves.

He wants to feel like Angelo loves him, even after knowing so much of who he is. Elias has revealed so much of his hand already, admitting to lies and tactics and motivations he still feels foolish for sharing. Ruthless, Angelo called him once, and he wasn't off the mark. There's plenty he still doesn't know, but he knows enough, and he's still here to demand that Elias chase away his demons and give him something to live for.

This is what it's meant to feel like. Elias can't decide if that means Angelo is wrong and his heart is not so separate from this as he thinks, or if this is simply the best they're going to get. Meant to, like they're still playing pretend because it can never be real, even if it seems unfathomable that it isn't.

Time will tell, he supposes. Elias brushes the stray hair out of Angelo's face, his smile tinged with a hint of sadness. There's one more promise he can make, in secret: Angelo does not need to know that they're doomed. He already knows where Elias stands in regards to the captain, how he feels and what he wants, and that can be the end of it. Angelo will act on it or he won't, but Elias won't harp on the issue. All that would serve would be to squander the precious time they do have together. If they're destined to fall apart anyway, then why waste their energy on pointless hurt?

Avoiding further pain will be easier to accomplish if he lets Angelo believe the issue is behind them. When this connection between them can no longer keep them afloat, the fallout may be greater for it, but that's still preferable to the alternative. If they're going to destroy each other, it may as well be over something worth the sacrifice. ]

It is, yes. Tell me you believe now that you are more than just a body to me.

[ What a demand that is, after Elias has just enjoyed said body so thoroughly. Angelo can feel Elias' passion for the body in the sensitivity of his lips, in the red marks dug into his thigh, in the sore ache deep within. It's a dark satisfaction to know that his physical form has not lost its edge, that he can satisfy Elias' lust just as he always knew he would. None of the words Elias breathed in the heat of it are new either. To be wanted, to be stunning, even the offer of anything... Angelo has heard it all before, and it had meant nothing then.

Yet, he does believe. Now, more than ever.

To Elias, the body and the mind are one. It took feeling him all around and inside for Angelo to understand that. Where Angelo has spent his life trying to outrun his body, Elias is his flesh. The way his lips press against Angelo's forehead, the way his hand comes to rest on the small of his back, all of it is Elias' voice and Angelo had been deaf to it. He'd used to think of it as degrading to be reduced to the body, and he hadn't been able to fathom how the customers who lost themselves in lust willingly threw away their minds and wills to become just animated meat, nothing more. Low, vile, disgusting.

It doesn't feel disgusting when Elias is touching him, and it doesn't feel empty. Elias loves his body, yet when he touches it, he's also reaching beyond the skin. When he touches it, he touches Angelo, and the flesh and the soul are one and the same for the first time in his life.

Angelo exhales slowly, as if preparing himself to speak a vow. ]

I do believe you. Even before, I knew you meant it. I just couldn't... I didn't get it. I didn't know I could still feel like myself when someone else is touching me.

[ He shifts again, his hand wandering from Elias' side back to a familiar spot over his heart. ]

This is me. I'm not disappearing.

[ There is a hint of wonder hidden in the melancholy of his voice as he whispers it. ]

[ Elias nods, though it takes him a long moment to chew over the words, trying to relate the thought to something he's experienced himself. He comes up empty. He's never not felt like himself, and it's difficult to fathom anyone or anything having so much power over him that he would detach to such a degree.

It bothers him, he realizes, that so much of Angelo's sense of self seems tied up in external things. That's never been an issue for Elias, but he's seen it before, countless times. Most of the men on this expedition suffered from it, equating their value to their rank. Foolish. Weak.

Angelo is neither of those things. ]

I wish you saw yourself as I see you. To think of you disappearing...

[ He blows out a breath. Such a thing does not sound possible. ]

Should that happen, I'd simply say something to annoy you. You'd find your way back to me through sheer spite.

[ Said as a joke, but he does mean it in earnest. Elias does not enjoy pissing Angelo off, but it would be a quick way to return him to himself should he need an urgent grounding. ]

[ Angelo huffs lightly. ]

Is that a promise or an example?

[ Talk about a drastic tonal mismatch to the gravity he'd just imbued his words with! But despite miming irritation through what he's saying, there's a small grin on his lips.

Mismatched, flippant, even rude... But it's a good promise nevertheless. To draw on the anger at his core to keep him anchored, to pull at that inconvenient, fundamental part of him to keep him tethered... It could be romantic, if it weren't said with such an irritating little smile.

The truth is, Angelo also wants to see himself as Elias does. ]

[ He laughs, and reaches behind him to fish his cigarette case out of the space between the wall and the mattress. The likelihood of anyone trying to tamper with it here is low, but why take the risk? ]

I can't reveal all my secrets, can I?

[ He settles on his back this time, wrapping an arm around Angelo as soon as he's got the cigarette lit.

Elias is aware that Angelo's earlier sentiment is deserving of more attention than he's giving it. It's quite a heavy thing, the realization that this form of human connection is not as lost to him as he once thought. What a paradigm shift that would be.

But it's not something he wants to discuss now, the topic brushing up too closely against the bombs they've set off in past conversations. Earlier today, Elias had been trying his damnedest to avoid a fight, and it backfired spectacularly. What if that happens again? Landing themselves in another argument now would have disastrous consequences. He won't allow it.

He hugs Angelo to him and exhales in a sigh, careful to blow the smoke away from Angelo's face. He offers the cigarette. ]

I'm glad to see you happy.

[ Happy, huh...? It gives Angelo pause, even as he quite readily nestles back against Elias in his shifted position. He hadn't thought he'd come to enjoy cuddling, but being stuck in the coldest place on Earth has a way of expediting some personal changes. As long as they're skin to skin, sharing the lingering heat of their encounter under the protective layer of the blanket, Angelo feels the warmest he has in weeks. Is that happiness? With how dire things have gotten, it might as well be.

Angelo takes the offered cigarette gratefully. The first time they shared a smoke like this had been back in the promenade, and Angelo remembers feeling antsy about the contamination of another mouth. Now, he prefers it like this. A cigarette to each of them would make them equals, but one cigarette for both makes them one an the same. Another link in the chain to bind them together, despite the growing cracks beneath their feet.

Inhaling deeply, Angelo can pretend that he feels the tobacco settling in his lungs, dooming him with every drag. Dirty from the inside out, and yet... ]

... I'd be happier if we had a proper shower.

[ He blows out a small puff of smoke from the cigarette before he gives it back. ]

But we'll work up to it - that's what you'll say, isn't it?

[ To live, to truly live. Even now, Elias should keep promising him a better life, right? ]

[ Elias hums in agreement. Better access to bathing in general would be very nice, especially now that sex is on the table, but he makes a point not to let his thoughts linger too long on what he doesn't have. It's not productive.

...He does think about the showers in the palace rather often, though. How spoiled they were. ]

We'll work up to it, yes. And in the meantime, this is already a marked improvement over the past month.

[ The cigarette case returns to its hiding spot, and out comes a small bowl to use as an ashtray. A practical action, but it also buys him time to figure out how to ask what he wants to ask. He doesn't think it's a particularly charged question (though he's been wrong before), but it's still difficult sometimes to find the words to talk about their wildly different lives. ]

With the way you talk, space must've been quite luxurious. And clean. Was the palace a step down from that?

[ Perhaps blessedly, Angelo remains unaware of the deliberations or of the stalling for time. His mind still feels a little hazy, but perhaps Elias wasn't too far off to call this happiness. Even aware that it is a soap bubble that will pop, Angelo is allowing himself to drift in the dreamlike atmosphere of the moment. He'd been exhausted, physically and mentally. His whole being is latching onto the reprieve ]

Mhm... in some ways, yes, but not as much as you might think. The place we lived at previously was actually quite similar in decor. A rich fool was our patron, providing his little castle reconstruction as a base for our activities. But it was inside a mining asteroid, so there was no vegetation. A lush garden like at our castle would have been impossible... I had to go to quite the lengths to import roses at all.

[ It had been an absolute hassle involving more paperwork and money than Angelo would care to discuss. Being able to just step outside to breathe in the roses... With all the pain he'd felt, Angelo would have been loathe to call it a privilege, but it had been a comfort that would have previously been impossible. ]

I missed the technology. Not having it did give me a headstart in learning how to wash by hand at least, but in my world machines can clean your laundry for you. There's no need to ruin your hands by doing it manually.

[ It is always difficult to explain what is common knowledge to him, but the more time he spends in the 19th century, the more Angelo learns to pin-point the differences and similarities. He hums thoughtfully, trying to think of what to add. It's nice to talk about something that doesn't matter, just to be talking to each other. ]

Ships are certainly cleaner. The Rewloowla was pristine, no comparison to the Terror at all. She was much larger too, of course.

[ Elias laughs a little, sucking on the cigarette. It's a good thing that staying in this world was never the plan. Angelo would be miserable here, he thinks, even outside of England. Perhaps especially outside of England, given how primitive the rest of the world supposedly is, and there's no going back there even if he wanted to. ]

Machines...

[ There's a wariness in his tone. Again with the machines. Certainly that term must mean something different to Angelo. Machines are large and loud and dangerous. Washing one's clothing is not worth the trouble, nor the risk of losing a limb. ]

But all of that was afforded to you because of your rank? Most would not have access to... laundry cleaning machines, and the like.

[ His hand trails absently over Angelo's hip as he tries to wrap his head around such a strange world. Many in the castle had been from far more bizarre places, but Elias didn't bother himself trying to understand those origins. There was no reason to care, for one, but they felt so beyond his own experiences that trying to care was a lost cause anyway.

Angelo's world, though. It sits in an odd position in Elias' mind, too familiar to write off and yet too foreign to make sense of. He doesn't like the feeling. ]

[ Back at the castle, this misunderstanding of the luxury inherent in washing machines might have amused Angelo. Weeks of scarcity have beaten that impulse out of him quite thoroughly. If a washing machine was granted to them now, Angelo himself would be inclined to see its powers as a miracle.

He shakes his head, though that is not much of a movement when his cheek is still firmly resting on Elias' shoulder. ]

No, they're common. I used them when I was still working the streets, too. Didn't have my own one back then, but I could go to the laundromat.

[ A short beat, but he remembers to explain before Elias has to go through the indignity of making any confusion known. ]

That's a business that has many washing machines in one place and you pay to use them. Most households have their own, though.

[ Most households - most normal families. He does not remember a lot about his early childhood. His father's face has all but vanished from his memory, replaced only be the image of a red pulp on the ground. But he remembers laundry. He remembers the smell of detergent, and the warmth of sheets fresh from the dryer. ]

Edited 2025-08-31 00:51 (UTC)

[ Angelo's thoughtfulness goes unnoticed. Elias is too distracted trying to picture a place like this. The best he can conjure is some version of the mill but with washing machines... and the general public wandering around inside, operating the machinery themselves. That doesn't make sense. Is injury not a concern? Where would they get all that water? And paying to use them sounds expensive. Why bother? What a massive production for something so simple.

The only logical conclusion is that such technology must be advanced far beyond Elias' comprehension. Like those crystals back at the castle, perhaps. More magic than science.

He doesn't actually care about laundry, though. Sorry, Angelo. He taps a bit of ash off the cigarette. ]

Should we remain here long enough to rediscover civilization, you'll no doubt be further disappointed by the available technology. Terror is the nicest place I've lived—outside of the palace.

[ Obviously Chateau Ambergris is the frontrunner in that contest, but that's not a fair fight. The aristocracy of England likely lived that way, too. That much is visible in the luxury of the greatroom and officer's mess, even in their relatively bedraggled state. ]

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