Pevensie's advances, forward as they were, were making him positively miserable with melancholy. By the time the self-professed Libertine had a hand at his hip and a husky whisper in his ear, Ienzo was seriously considering resigning himself to the folly of having a confidante and a night-murmurer again, maybe, if this was really so much a bid for a go at his bedclothes as it seemed.
"Ah, he took all his best books with him, I'm afraid?" The sullen catamite frowned balefully, staring self-pityingly at his abandoned bottle for a long moment before reclaiming it for a deliberate, dramatic swig, as if having abruptly decided this will only come out in full if he's roaringly inebriated, and has just decided to go all in.
"I've been lonely for the lack of them." He announced, and drank deep. His cheeks pulled in puckered as he tipped the bottle back and gulped, sealing his lips over its mouth and finally plugging the hole with his tongue when it was time to tilt the bottle back down and swallow, having vacuum-sucked so much air before he'd detached himself that it made a resounding thunk of released pressure in the glass, when he did.
He coughed and blinked and hoped his erection would fold over and die in the time it took to become a less comfortable floor cushion.
"So you really must know, huh? Well, their research is concluded here." Ienzo insisted, with a tone of decided finality. "Most of it's been co-opted and classified, now, anyway, so I'm not supposed to talk about it with anyone."
That was the last he'd heard, at least, right around the time he'd made his clean break from the old hall. Swapping houses felt a little bit like going into some manner of witness protection. Aeleus was always clever with puzzles and ciphers, and his very last letter had been difficult.
"(I think they're working in the MI-13.)" He secreted, in the sort of wary whisper that spoke volumes for his own uncertainty. His schoolfellows had graduated, than seemingly up and vanished altogether.
"They entertained some... fairly radical ideas, on and off?" His tongue felt numb from the shrub, but that didn't stop him from talking in a flustered flurry once the snowball started racing rapidly downhill. Every mouthful a betrayal. "Emptying the self, emotional suppression, sometimes we spoke about connecting with parallel worlds and altering timelines, wilder things like that?" Ienzo flushed in the ears, almost embarassed to admit it. "A mix of psychology and pseudo-science."
He spoke like a man in his golden years fondly recounting his schooldays, not a child revisiting the adventures of last term. "Xeha was always reading his weird periodicals, two steps away from what some of them called batty mysticism behind his back," Ienzo bowed his head, realizing he'd let a dangerously intimate name slip, along with a truth that hid his infatuation by laughing their leader off as a mad occultist. "But Dilan reigned him in and Aeleus kept him grounded, and Even tried to wrangle all their hypothetical abstracts with... scientific procedure that wouldn't ever pass the ethics committee."
His chest heaved weakly with a sputter of nervous, pent-up laughter. He put down the bottle shakily and covered his face with his hand.
"Thats where most of the rumors come from." He groaned, rubbing over the sockets of his eyes and feeling the heavy warmth trickling through his limbs now. "They actually submitted a bunch of papers that raised eyebrows all around. (And those were the tame ones, that got published.)" The boy added flatly, before reeling himself back into weary composure and slumping into Edmund's side with a yawn.
"Anyway, traumatic memories and amnesia recovery is going to be an important field of study, for our generation."
A sobering thought, but one that really isn't going to help Ienzo now, sighing heartsick as he curls up broodily against his fellow scholar, gut burning in alarm for all the fermented apples that it's just been dowsed in.
"What keeps me up at night are all the questions we never got around to answering."
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Date: 2017-01-31 07:31 am (UTC)"Ah, he took all his best books with him, I'm afraid?" The sullen catamite frowned balefully, staring self-pityingly at his abandoned bottle for a long moment before reclaiming it for a deliberate, dramatic swig, as if having abruptly decided this will only come out in full if he's roaringly inebriated, and has just decided to go all in.
"I've been lonely for the lack of them." He announced, and drank deep. His cheeks pulled in puckered as he tipped the bottle back and gulped, sealing his lips over its mouth and finally plugging the hole with his tongue when it was time to tilt the bottle back down and swallow, having vacuum-sucked so much air before he'd detached himself that it made a resounding thunk of released pressure in the glass, when he did.
He coughed and blinked and hoped his erection would fold over and die in the time it took to become a less comfortable floor cushion.
"So you really must know, huh? Well, their research is concluded here." Ienzo insisted, with a tone of decided finality. "Most of it's been co-opted and classified, now, anyway, so I'm not supposed to talk about it with anyone."
That was the last he'd heard, at least, right around the time he'd made his clean break from the old hall. Swapping houses felt a little bit like going into some manner of witness protection. Aeleus was always clever with puzzles and ciphers, and his very last letter had been difficult.
"(I think they're working in the MI-13.)" He secreted, in the sort of wary whisper that spoke volumes for his own uncertainty. His schoolfellows had graduated, than seemingly up and vanished altogether.
"They entertained some... fairly radical ideas, on and off?" His tongue felt numb from the shrub, but that didn't stop him from talking in a flustered flurry once the snowball started racing rapidly downhill. Every mouthful a betrayal. "Emptying the self, emotional suppression, sometimes we spoke about connecting with parallel worlds and altering timelines, wilder things like that?" Ienzo flushed in the ears, almost embarassed to admit it. "A mix of psychology and pseudo-science."
He spoke like a man in his golden years fondly recounting his schooldays, not a child revisiting the adventures of last term. "Xeha was always reading his weird periodicals, two steps away from what some of them called batty mysticism behind his back," Ienzo bowed his head, realizing he'd let a dangerously intimate name slip, along with a truth that hid his infatuation by laughing their leader off as a mad occultist. "But Dilan reigned him in and Aeleus kept him grounded, and Even tried to wrangle all their hypothetical abstracts with... scientific procedure that wouldn't ever pass the ethics committee."
His chest heaved weakly with a sputter of nervous, pent-up laughter. He put down the bottle shakily and covered his face with his hand.
"Thats where most of the rumors come from." He groaned, rubbing over the sockets of his eyes and feeling the heavy warmth trickling through his limbs now. "They actually submitted a bunch of papers that raised eyebrows all around. (And those were the tame ones, that got published.)" The boy added flatly, before reeling himself back into weary composure and slumping into Edmund's side with a yawn.
"Anyway, traumatic memories and amnesia recovery is going to be an important field of study, for our generation."
A sobering thought, but one that really isn't going to help Ienzo now, sighing heartsick as he curls up broodily against his fellow scholar, gut burning in alarm for all the fermented apples that it's just been dowsed in.
"What keeps me up at night are all the questions we never got around to answering."