tɦɛ iɳquiรitѳʀ (freemarched) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-01-17 19:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, kenzi malikov, maxwell trevelyan (the inquisitor) |
Who: Trevelyan & Kenzi (and the bog unicorn)
What: Visiting with baked goods, apples, and a glass dildo for the coffee table
When: Last weekend?
Where: Haus in Anaheim
Rating/Warnings: Low, unless phallic centerpieces are offensive
Status: Complete
What does one feed a zombie-looking unicorn? Animal brains, intestines, human hearts? Kenzi felt like she should have asked before nabbing some shiny red apples from the tree at the home of villainy, but oh well - if anything the Ham Sandwich would have some fresh fruit to nom on alongside the turnovers she’d been quested to deliver. Baked gifts from McTits since she had also liked to pay the Inquisitor a visit, but Meara had to do the baby thing of getting an ear infection. It was common thing among babes, nothing serious but lordy, talk about exhausting. Poor little Meme (her new affectionate little nickname for her niece), all that fussiness. Anyway, aside from that? There was also a nice, heavy gift in a bag in honor of their much earlier conversations from what felt like eons ago - but she’d get to that. It was a majestic token of their beautiful friendship and a potential conversation piece for his coffee table if, you know, he was drunk enough. Her ensemble was always a little elaborate, turquoise extensions included, but whatever, she could be going to the DMV and eighty percent of the time she would dress like she was about to attend a rave, whatever. Her boot did the knocking on the door since her hands were full; no scuffs, Maxipad, it’s cool. “Girl scout! Here to give you anthrax cookies!” An unorthodox way to call on a friend, but alright, Max would take it. He wasn’t up to much anyway, just work - luckily, this was the type of thing he could do at home. A necessary evil, session notes were. And he never took them actually during the session since, in his view, it gave the impression the therapist wasn’t listening. Instead he waited until afterward but the problem was, when issues with Skyhold, Orange County emergencies, or other tomfuckery popped up (like having to bring a blood lotus sleeping draught to Nasir’s best friend, for example), he could look away for two seconds and then all of a sudden he had an endless pile of session notes to make up for. Oh, well. Funnily enough, he had some potions for Regina too - things he’d been working on, as he cultivated the herbs at the keep’s garden. Certain ones were in season and others weren’t, so he mixed and changed and still kept his skills sharp. Plus, he shared. She was the only other potion-maker he knew of besides Morrigan, though he especially liked learning about magic not of Thedas. Kenzi would be so kind as to bring back what he had set aside, hopefully. For now, he opened the door, the lyrium-infused prosthetic he was wearing giving off the faintest blue glow, the slightest bit of a ‘blink and you’d miss it’ arctic blast. “Anthrax - probably not as good as peanut butter patties,” he chuckled. “Come on in.” Ohhhh, snap. First time she caught a glimpse of that fabled prosthetic, too - Killian had some sci-fiesque hand that was a little Terminator worthy, but that? Magic voodoo coursing through it, the gnarly look, oh my! “Haha, naw, it’s some baked stuff from the Kitchen of Evil Cleavage and some apples? For your demon-unicorn, I forgot to ask if he liked fresh ones or rotted ones.” Or something entirely different, who knew with these otherworldly pets. Kenzi entered to set the stuff down; the container of noms, the fruit, and the bag with his gift. “I also have something for you courtesy of yours truly, since it’s been forever and a day since we’ve hung out.” Speaking of, she’d give this to him first! It was pulled out of a brown bag, wrapped in paper, suspiciously phallic looking and when she unwrapped it - voila! It was an artistically designed glass dildo, with a stand. You’re welcome, Ham Sandwich. “Anything from the Kitchen of Evil Cleavage sounds good, thank you. Boggy eats rotten apples, mainly. Anything rotten - but I’m sure he’d like something fresh too, I think he just likes apples as treats in general,” Max explained, moving his laptop after shutting it closed - and also moving the folders of paperwork stuffed inside. This could all be dealt with later, he’d much rather do something fun now. Then the appearance of the glass dildo, meant as art - or perhaps a conversation piece? It made him laugh, both our of sheer surprise and awe. “Where did you even find that?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Maybe an avant garde sex shoppe. “It’ll go with Nasir’s dick necklace. He’ll love it.” Because his boyfriend was twelve sometimes, and considered proudly wearing ancient Roman phallic jewelry that he looted from dead bodies a thing to do. “It really has been too long since we hung out, hasn’t it. Want a drink or anything? Or do you just want me to take you to see the zombie unicorn?” Awww. Dick necklaces, that was so romantic. Kenzi grinned, crookedly. “They rebuilt that shop a friend of mine trampled when she went all Twili-spidery,” she explained, and of course Midna would know where to find the best stuff. She was going to miss the princess hanging around the house, she was fun, but she practically ran off into the sunset with her lady for a life a little more stable. “And we did talk about decorative dildos when this place was being worked on, so I made sure to keep my promise.” Well, it wasn’t exactly a promise as much as it was an amusing thought to just go with but, hey, he liked it! Definitely not something to put in the office while he did this therapy sessions unless his clients were into that thing. She picked up the bag of apples, though, ready to hand out to Boggy. “No drinks, though, I want to see your buddy. I had a talk with a chick on the network about riding a unicorn down the aisle during a wedding ceremony and it reminded me of you.” They’d probably have to swap out the decorative dildo for a legit centerpiece or something, when Nasir’s parents came over, but otherwise? Trevelyan was all for displaying that thing for friends. Probably said something about himself and his friends, but whatever. Hashtagnoregrets, or something. “He’s kind of different than your standard unicorn,” Max grinned - he was pretty fond of Boggy though. The mount was essentially family by this point. “I think he’d scare most wedding guests if anyone rode him down the aisle.” To the barn they went - and it wasn’t built from scratch, not exactly. There had been a lot of DIY consultations and plans first, with logistics, because Boggy’s barn used to be a carport near the Dutch colonial revival. But the transformation had gone well; Max had worked on it with Nasir and also Leliana and her now-husband. The place was small, but cozy, a good size for the bog unicorn, with blankets and heat lamps for when it got cold. As they all knew, sometimes it did. Neeeeeeeigh, was the regal, majestic whinny he made from inside. Max opened the door and clicked his tongue for the horse to come forward. “Careful, don’t want him to headbutt you,” Trevelyan warned and that was obvious when the horse emerged - a lean, dark presence with a shock-red mane. And a sword protruding from its skull. Oh, this was nifty! Boggy had his own little home of sorts; she figured Max had the connections to sort this kind of thing, but what had her halt in place was the sight of the mount. Seriously, it was probably one of the most metal things those pale, icy eyes ever laid eyes on - protruding ribs, the whole zombie-like vibe, the damn sword that was protruding from its head. That thing was terrifying. In a cool way, that is. “Dibs on reserving him if I ever get hitched anyway,” she countered, pulling an apple from the bag for an offering. “Heeeere boy, sorry it doesn’t have worms coming out of it, but it’s still tasty??” Just try not to bite her hand off in the process, Boggy, for realsies. “Damn, Max, if I were your enemy on the battleground and saw you riding this thing at me I would jet the other way. Legit. Did you yank him out of hell by any chance??” Apple? Boggy snuffed and sniffed, letting out a chuff of air through his flaring horse nostrils, curiously examining the potential treat. He must have decided he wanted it (despite how it wasn’t rotting, and lacked worms), because he snatched it in his chompers and began to chow down. Max laughed a little, gently petting the orangey-red shock of hair that was his mane, somewhat matted and gnarled - when the bog unicorn got brushed, clumps often came off but that was pretty standard for a zombie horse, he guessed. “That was pretty much the goal, yeah,” he said. “Ride into battle, enemies piss themselves, et cetera. But he was actually a gift, when I was Inquisitor. Given to me by a group called the Mages Collective - they were something of a shadow guild that operated outside of the confines of the Circles of Magi, not wanting to be restricted by them. They sent the bog unicorn knowing that he’d returned from the dead with a fierce desire to serve a noble master and a worthy cause. He probably wishes he had one now.” Neeeeeigh, said the undead beast. Probably agreement. Awww, Boggy likey apple? Kenzi mustered the courage to pet him gently, right on the nose - despite the, uh, super fearsome appearance. Cute mannerisms though. “Of course a shadow guild will have a zombie unicorn,” she snickered. “There’ll probably be some kind of epic, noble quest. The OC’s got the rest of 2017 to mess up for us.” Knock on wood. Though the Trump presidency couldn’t be any worse than what could happen here, right? Knock on wood twice, just to make sure. Never know. Another apple was offered to him - eat up on the nutrients, buddy. Next time she’d make sure that they smelled like feet and earthly butthole. “But, anyways, aside from our inevitable doom this year, how’s it been going with you and your boytoy?” People lamented that 2016 was the worst year ever or something along those lines, but Max thought it was a mixed bag - like any other year, really. There was always good and bad no matter where you were. “Oh, I’m sure our beloved county has plenty of surprises in store for us,” he laughed, with a fond head shak. Sure, this place had taken his arm - but that was such a large part of being the Inquisitor, of dealing with the consequences of the mark. Maybe it would have happened eventually anyway. The bog unicorn went for the second apple, and Trevelyan patted his neck, down his flank and being careful of the protruding ribs - but they never seemed to bother him. He was a sinister looking creature though, no doubt about it. “With Nasir? Things are good,” he said. “He recently met my aunt Lucille, who is basically my only family, and that went well. She keeps asking about marriage.” By the way he said the word, it was obvious he was still kind of on the fence about it. Of course, Max wished for his friends to have all the happiness in the world when it came to that - but he didn’t know if he was ready for those wedding bells. “What about you? And I promise, should you ever take the plunge, you can have Boggy to prance majestically down your aisle.” “Drink the water around here long enough and soon you’ll be buying an engagement ring,” Kenzi smirked. It was engagements galore, with Killy and Gigi, and Bo and Lara. No complaints, though, she was a fan of festivities and assisting in the planning of some gnarly parties. Best part was that she got to see her bro and bestie on their big day, being all sappy and happy, and she’d be there with a polaroid camera for all those retro mementos. “At least your aunt’s supportive, so that’s awesome sauce.” But, ah, lesse. Aside from the dreams being slow slugs in progression, there really wasn’t much. “Birkhoff’s Birkhoff, being a hermit, trying to find a new place to live because he, uh, had to get rid of a fae that took my face in a tub of acid? It made his second floor really fumey, and let’s just say there’s some things that aren’t worth replacing.” A tub of acid? “Sounds fun,” Max winced, though around here, it was probably one of those ‘just another day’ types of things. “But it doesn’t seem like you’re going to be drinking the engagement water either?” Maybe eventually it would happen for Kenzi, and for Trevelyan too. It would just have to be the right time, and everything falling into place. He didn’t want to propose until he was sure that they were at a spot in their lives where a wedding could actually happen. Like, Nasir was still in college. He was older than the usual student was, because he’d had a late start, but it was what took up most of his time and focus. Maybe best to wait for the degree. Then again, sometimes you just knew. You’d get a wild ‘wedding’ hair up your ass. “Lucille’s definitely supportive though,” he nodded. His good hand went to the sword in Boggy’s head, touching carefully, giving it a pat. The creature was happy with all the attention - as happy as a terrifying mount could be, anyway. “My mom and dad kind of cut off contact because I’m bisexual. Same with dreams though. Me being a mage meant I really didn’t have a place in the family anymore either.” Totes fun. At least Kenzi had her closure here - there, she was still bitter about the entire thing, refusing to talk about it (because that’s healthy) and masking the trauma and resentment with her golden wit and sarcasm. It’s not like she hadn’t tried getting help, everyone was so caught up in their own thing that they just brushed aside the little human girl and - Okay, breathe, pet the zombie unicorn. Killian and Birkhoff came through, and she was able to free herself. And she was happy that, for once, she didn’t need Bo to come to her rescue. “Hells to the no, pfffft.” Why, yes, Max, she was looking at you like you just sucked a fart out of an asshole and held it in like a bog. “Too young for that sort of thing. I’m happy to wait and give everyone else the spotlight - and Birkhoff and I are still pretty early in this whole relationship thing.” Her nerdy beau had to take things slowly, and so did she. Kenzi was deceptively guarded for someone very light-hearted. When the time came, she wanted to be sure, and not just jump into things because the ring was pretty. Anyway, it seemed like Max was more headed in that direction. He and Nasir seemed to have a pretty solid foundation. “You ever thought about hitting your folks up, seeing if they changed their asinine minds? A friend of mine recently went to see if her parents. She ran from home because they didn’t like her sexual ‘indiscretions’ and that she had a thing for chicks, but it actually went well considering it was also an announcement that she was marrying a woman.” Obviously there was still work to be done, but sometimes confronting the parents about how they were steaming piles of shit could end alright. Someone just had to make the first move. “Oh, I already did - recently, in fact,” Max replied, and he almost had a hearty laugh about the idea of his parents changing their asinine minds. It was a nice thought though, one he’d entertained before - but these were the people who, because he didn’t subscribe to their views even as a child (they didn’t support free thinking and imagination, apparently), had no problem tossing him into a group home for kids with ‘emotional and behavioral problems.’ It was all too reminiscent of being forced into the Circle of Magi at that first sign of showing a talent for magic. “I tried to extend an olive branch after ten or so years, asking if I could visit Seattle and introduce Nasir to them. But they didn’t want to see me. They don’t ever want to see me.” And quite frankly, if that’s the way they were going to be? Trevelyan didn’t want to see them either. “I’m glad your friend was able to resolve things with her parents, since it sounds similar - mine obviously don’t approve of my sexual indiscretions either. But sometimes you just can’t fix things with people who choose their beliefs over family.” He’d never called a truce with his Thedosian parents either, come to think of it. It was why having the Inquisition, and falling in love, was so important to Trevelyan. His mother and father wanted nothing to do with him as a mage, and then nothing to do with him as Inquisitor. The harshness of that sting had faded as he had grown closer to his makeshift family, and to Dorian. Kenzi breathed in, the sound like a pained hiss because dayum. What a load of fuckers. “Well, screw them. In the butt. They’re missing out on the amazingness that’s you, and they don’t deserve you if that’s the case.” Would their minds even change if they knew what their son had been through? Like, hello. He lost an arm, but nevermind, where he sticks his penis in is clearly top priority. Huff. “Parents can be assholes. I love my mom but I don’t think her and I will ever see eye to eye, either,” she said, pursing her lips for a second. Her gaze was still pinned on Boggy with routine pets, of course, and her fingers tested the texture of his fiery mane. “In a perfect world we’d all be on good terms with the ones that birthed us, but hey. We’ve got an option to make our own families here.” And she was lucky enough to have an actual blood-related relative to get along with. In a perfect world she’d have Liam around, too - she had a taste of what life would be with him around and it hurt to wake up to him gone again, but such was life here. The bog unicorn seemed to be enjoying the pets, though of course he was a formidable creature forged from iron and primordial darkness so he couldn’t look like he was enjoying them too much. But he chuffed through his nose again, encouraging the stroking on his mane (and behind his ears - he really was kind of a big puppy sometimes). “Thanks,” Max laughed a little. “A shame about your mom too. Some people just don’t understand how to be parents, I guess. They aren’t really wired to be good at the job.” His definitely weren’t - and Lucille had been more of a mother than his own ever was. For that, he was grateful. “Nasir’s parents are very supportive though, his mom is so adorable.” Trevelyan couldn’t help but sound fond when he talked of her - he really did like Nasir’s parents. They had always done the best they could for their sons; losing one to a car accident and then losing Nasir for years after had to have been so heartbreaking. “I mean, they’re immigrants from Syria so I’m sure that’ll continue to be a challenge in the future - but I’m glad I have them as family too. And other friends, a ragtag Inquisition. You’d be the one Varric calls ‘Sparkles,’” he grinned. “Sparkles, huh,” Kenzi snorted a laugh. Well, she’d been called weirder things. Like Meow-Meow, which was an old street name that fit better for a stripper - missed chances, pooey. “D’aww, but who could resist dem cheeks, Max. I mean, aside from your douche parents anyway. At least Nasir’s know well enough that you make him happy and that’s what should count?” There was a playful punch delivered to his arm. His, uh, fleshy arm. No offense with how cool that other one looked, it also didn’t seem like the kind of thing she wanted to bestow her noodly-armed violence to. Just sayin’, brah. Anyway, she dumped the rest of the apples around Boggy. Nom away, you-creepy-as-fuck-but-kinda-cute mount. “You got some drinks to spare, Ham Sandwich? You can show me some tricks with that Terminator-goes-Medieval arm you got there.” “Plenty of drinks,” Max assured - his frightening mount would be okay out here, in apple heaven. There was also plenty of room for Boggy to go in and out of the barn as he pleased, so when he was done he’d probably retire for some grazing or a snooze. “Come on, I’ll be your bartender and then show you some tricks - even the shapeshifting one too.” He’d sort of mastered a few forms by now - a cat (he had way too much fun being a fat orange tabby sometimes), a rat, a bird, and was working up to the bigger ones. It was a different kind of channeling of magic than throwing fire or pulling spirits from the Fade, but he enjoyed those studies. And also the other studies involving blood magic as well. What could he say, he liked being well-rounded. So no turning into a dragon yet, but maybe Kenzi would get a kick out of his cat form. Rrrrreow. |