Ari patrols most nights. He frequently whistles as he does so. He's on friendly terms with many of the people of the town, though some of them think he's a dangerous weirdo. (They're not wrong, but it's not very polite to say it outright like that.)
Vampires still come to Sunnydale. Because it's Sunnydale, and because vampires are idiots. The ones who live here already, though, have picked up a habit of either visiting the kosher butcher's or the bite shop, or moving to LA. Or having their heads ripped off by an excessively cheerful blonde half-Kal'shekk witch.
Speaking of the kosher butcher's, he pops his head into that alleyway. Maybe he'll see Mr. Ray, that nice vampire chap who comes by for some fresh cow's blood every Thursday. (Ari acts cheerfully oblivious to the fact that every vampire he knows is blind terrified of him. Some of them are alright when he keeps them from eating people; being unrepentantly amoral doesn't have to mean you're not a nice person.)
Someone is just disappearing into the back door of the butcher's. Definitely not Mr. Ray. Too short.
He follows him in anyway. Have to make a good first impression, and all.
"What do you want," says the new vamp, in an unfamiliar and definitely nonlocal accent. Maybe some flavour of British.
Ari is not one to judge nonlocal accents, having a bit of a mixed demon accent himself. "Just wanted to check in! Did you just move to our fair city? Are you in fact a vampire or just a burglar with odd tastes in targets? Do you need to be threatened so you don't kill anybody? That sort of thing."
"What the hell are you?"
"Not very polite, but you're not trying to rip my throat out, so you're already ahead of the game. Ari Kal'amm, half-demon vampire hunter and professional witch. Any word on the death threats? I like to get them out of the way early."
"Threaten me if it amuses you. I won't mind."
"It does amuse me! It's also generally pretty effective, but it doesn't seem like that's on the table here. Anyway, as a half Kal'Shakk demon I am easily strong enough to pin you to the ground and rip your head off like a Christmas cracker. Failing that, I am a very competent witch and have developed a spell that imitates the effects of sunlight. Plus I wear a ring with a cross on it that's been blessed by seven priests, which according to the vampires I've punched with it hurts like Hell. And as someone who grew up in a hell dimension, that's a lot of hurt."
"I noticed the ring. Sounds like fun."
"Fun is as fun does. I'll give you a demo if you like, but it's liable to scar. If you mind that."
He snickers.
Ari raises his eyebrows, but doesn't stop grinning. "Hey, I'm not judging. I'm not allowed to judge people, I'm a queer demonic witch, it'd be too ironic."
"So you are in fact flirting with me?" he clarifies.
"A bit. I've never done anything with a vampire before, because generally they're terrified of me or I have to kill them, but I'm not averse to the idea. And you're pretty and interesting and you apparently like interesting things. Though I will mention, in case you're wondering, that I'm not actually less able to kill you while having sex. It would just be unpleasant, and I'd be quite unhappy afterwards. So I'd rather you didn't."
"I'd rather not get caught up in discussing how easily we can kill each other," he says. "If it's all the same to you."
"Oh, sorry. It's just that I've had trouble with that before. Some demons are just awfully rude."
"I don't like killing people and try to avoid it as much as possible." He gestures around them. "Hence the grocery shopping."
"I approve of grocery shopping! I recommend it to all of the supernatural residents of the area. I appreciate your initiative in doing it before I brought it up, gold star."
"Thanks," he snorts.
"You'd be shocked how many don't think of it! And I don't give out gold stars lightly, not even to pretty and interesting vampires."
"I'm flattered. My name is Mark, by the way."
"Hello, Mark By The Way. Sorry for not asking, that usually comes later in the routine and you kind of broke the pattern on me."
"It's a habit."
"I don't doubt it. You seem like the type who's too interesting to get boxed in."
"Perceptive of you."
"I pride myself on that."
For some reason this causes Mark to giggle.
Ari never argues with an opportunity to laugh with someone, even if they're probably laughing at him. He laughs at himself all the time, why should he get all the fun?
"I like you," Mark asserts. "You're fun."
"I'm glad! It's sad when people don't like me, I think they must just hate happiness. And of the things I pride myself on, being fun tops the list."
"Is there a particular reason why you've taken it upon yourself to threaten all the local vampires?"
"I don't like it when they kill people, and I'm uniquely qualified to do something about it. Unless the Slayer shows up or something."
"Slayer?"
"You don't know about the Slayer? Man, vampire education has gone downhill. The Slayer is a teenage girl with amazing strength and speed and combat skill, which she uses to kill vampires and various nasty sorts of demon. Generally accompanied by middle-aged Brits who... tell her about prophesies and things, I think? I don't know, they're apparently a necessary part of the equation."
"I haven't seen one, but then, I haven't been a vampire very long."
"Ah, new blood. So to speak. I mean, I can teach you the various information you'll need, if you like? I'm pretty well up on vampire culture."
"Do tell. So far I've discovered by experimentation that we catch fire in sunlight and that it's very hard to kill us but decapitation will do the trick. And the thing with crosses."
"Any blessed objects will do the trick for burning and death and etcetera. And massive trauma, and sticking bits of wood through your chest, though I'm not sure why anyone would choose that last instead of just getting an axe blessed by their pastor or something, and it's quite unreliable if you miss the heart anyway. There's this mythical thing called the Gem of Amarra that would make you invulnerable, it's a bit of a vampiric Holy Grail. Let's see, what else... I presume you know about the face thing, I've known it to come as a surprise to newborns. If you make it past two millennia or so you get interesting and unique powers, that's a thing. Not sure what else. Oh, yeah, you can't enter private residences uninvited."
"The face thing is annoying. Define 'massive trauma'."
"Construction equipment is generally involved."
"Go on."
"Well, if you literally just drop half a ton of rock on a vampire it usually sticks. Not always, you're a very compressible species, but if you're reduced to paste it's a safe bet. In that vein there's also wrecking balls, large vehicles, dropping from skyscrapers, massive explosions... oh, fire works too. I should mention that I didn't test all this myself, I stick to head-removal and fire mostly, but my mom was very thorough with her experimentation. Vicious woman she was. She had a heart of gold, but she had claws too. Quite literally."
"I did my experimenting on the man who turned me," he explains. "So once I discovered decapitation, that was the end of it."
"Sensible enough. But if you find yourself with construction equipment and a vampire who needs killed, I hope that you remember my advice."
"Eh. Ripping their head off is going to be faster."
"That's why you don't see me driving a backhoe down Main Street every weeknight. Though I'm sure it'd help my intimidation factor."
"Personally I'd think it just made you look silly."
"That's a worthy side effect. Plus, stop me if I'm wrong, but you're not exactly easily intimidated."
"Picked up on that, have you?"
"Can't say where I got the impression, might have been when you laughed off a man twice your size threatening to rip your head off. Or when you started flirting with him immediately."
"It was funny. And you're very attractive."
"You've got a particular sense of humor, then. And thank you; I don't get that nearly enough. I mean, I get it, but you can never get that enough, I think."
"You're the first person who's called me pretty."
"Is there some chance you've been living in a dimension of eyeless cave-beings? If so, what brings you to the land of the sighted?"
"Not a dimension of eyeless cave-beings, no."
"Well, you're pretty, and I'll tell you that as much as you like. I could write you a sonnet! It won't be any good, but I'll do it."
Mark laughs. "You're adorable."
"I could say the same to you! You are without a doubt the cutest vampire I've ever met. It helps you've got that vague pacifism thing going."
"Pacifism might be stretching the point. I did kill the man who turned me. And a regrettable number of his fanatical cultists, both before and after."
"You're new to the whole supernatural world thing, so you may not have context on that: By vampiric standards, you're the next best thing to Gandhi. And I did say vague pacifism."
"I've picked up on the trend, but I can't figure out why."
"Common wisdom says you're actually a demonic parasite who imitates the soul of the human you were made from. Not sure I buy into that, but every vampire I've met but you has completely lacked any sense of morality, hence the threats. So there is that."
"I don't feel like a demonic parasite. As far as I can tell, turning into a vampire had no effect on my personality at all."
"In that case, it would seem you're a very fortunate mutant. I wonder if you have a soul? Not that it'd be easy to test that without looking up some ridiculous ancient ritual, probably."
...He cracks up.
Ari vaguely wishes he knew what makes Mark laugh when he does; it'd be a nice look into his head. In lieu of that, he's willing to laugh along.
He commences raiding the supply of animal blood.
The police are an entity Ari has encountered mostly in their capacity as disposable victims of various demonic entities. This is their primary function in Sunnydale.
All right, he's stocked up. Off he goes. Ari is welcome to follow him.
He does so! Patrol is mostly a formality in late summer; vampires are just as miserable in the heat as humans, and the nights are too short to get much of anything done. There could be demons or an apocalypse cult or something, but there could always be demons or an apocalypse cult or something.
"Are you planning to follow me back to my crypt?"
"If you'd like. I've got a roommate, but she's used to me coming back at odd hours. Congratulations on finding a crypt in the lurking season, by the way, the market's murder. I was expecting the sewers."
"It's not a very comfortable crypt. Bit out of the way, too."
"If you'd found a comfortable crypt I'd accuse you of divinity. And I don't mind a walk."
"Well, all right then."
Ari follows cheerfully. This is looking like a very good night.
"I can't offer much in the way of hospitality, I'm afraid. Lost all my worldly possessions in the vampire cult incident."
"That happened to me one time. Worldly possessions are overrated anyway."
"Yeah? Where'd yours go?"
"Left in the hell dimension where I grew up when I was unceremoniously dumped into Southern California. Showed up naked, covered in fresh burns, and without a penny or a word of English to my name. Fortunately one of the cops at the time was a demon who knew a bit of Ak'Kal'shak, so he was able to get me a passport saying I was from a tiny post-Soviet country and teach me enough English to get taught the rest. Nice guy. Pity he got killed by that rampaging Daklon Beast."
"That sounds arguably even less fun than how I got here, and that's bloody saying something."
"Bonus points: My mom had just died. It was quite an affair. I'm doing well nowadays, though."
"Yeah, you might have me beat. I showed up in a dark room full of ominously chanting people who wanted to present me to their false god as a ritual sacrifice, but I was wearing clothes and hadn't suffered any recent losses to speak of."
"Dark rooms full of ominous cultists are still unpleasant. Also, I included the fact I was naked less because it was traumatic and more because it was hilarious. And to make you think about me naked."
"I imagine it was still inconvenient. But yes, well done, I am definitely thinking about you naked now."
"Hilariously inconvenient. And you can't see it, but in my head I'm doing a little victory dance now. Naked."
"I can picture it very clearly."
"I'm glad! You have a usefully vivid imagination. Hopefully a generous one, too."
"Is accurate an acceptable alternative?"
"Synonymous, in fact."
He laughs.
Ari laughs with him. He's pretty sure this is the "what a charming human" laugh, not the "what an amusing joke" laugh. He'd go with the latter too, but he might feel impelled to defend his honor.
It is, it is the what-a-charming-human laugh! Ari is a very charming human. At least to Mark.
Ari likes to think he's universally a charming human! A charming mostly-human, at least. Perhaps a mostly-charming mostly-human. Some proportion of charming to human, at least.
"So how frequent is it for people to be dropped or dragged into this world from some other one?"
"Oh, happens from time to time. Generally it's the other direction, though, some idiot reads aloud from the wrong book and gets sucked into some hell dimension or other. I was born here, so it was easier to send me back. Getting somebody into this world usually takes a convergence or a prophesy or something. Your cult may have been taking advantage of something of the sort, if what you're implying is you're from some other world."
"In my home universe, it's the thirtieth century and there are neither demons nor magic. But apart from that, this Earth's history is recognizable. I can't think of a reason why they might have been aiming for me specifically, and they definitely seemed surprised at what they got, but maybe it wasn't that sort of prophecy-or-something."
"Sounds more like a convergence, then. Thirtieth century, nice! Do you have lasers? Robots? Clones?"
"You have lasers," he points out. "And I'm not sure you don't have robots, although ours are probably better. I'll give you the third one as a legitimate future advancement, though. I'm a clone myself."
"Ooh, nice! There's probably a whole thing about respectful terminology and I just called you some horrible slur, didn't I. I mean no offense, I am a primitive barbarian etcetera. Do you know the person of whom you... are... of? And I meant laser guns! Or laser swords, I guess. And our most advanced robot, as far as I can tell, can climb stairs."
"Technically no laser guns, although we have do plasma arcs, which are probably just as impressive. I've met him. It was a memorable occasion. Clone-progenitor relationships vary, but Miles considers me his brother."
"Plasma arcs sound cool. Also, awwww. Siblings are cute. Is he gonna wonder where you are, should I pester all my witchy friends about ways to return summoning victims to their native worlds?"
"I'm sure he'll wonder where I am. So will the intelligence service he works for. They can go on wondering for the time being. I like Miles, but as of my summoning last week I wasn't sure I ever wanted to talk to him again. It's complicated."
"Your complicated clonebrother, the spy. Are you aware that you live an interesting life?"
"You don't know the half of it."
"I'm sure I don't. Did you live in space? Because space is cool, and living in space could make anyone more interesting."
"No, I missed that one. But I was created for a substitution plot against Miles aimed ultimately at assassinating key members of his family and becoming emperor of his planet, that's got to count for something, right?"
"Sounds adventurous! Though probably not very pleasant. I'm glad you didn't assassinate your complicated clonebrother, that sounds even less pleasant."
"Yeah. I wouldn't have liked it. And the man behind this plot also secretly meant for my coup to result in a long and bloody civil war ending ultimately in my assassination or public execution, which I wouldn't have liked either."
"Gah. You're well out of that, I think."
"Yeah."
Ari continues walking. Idly, he counts the graveyards. Presumably Mark's crypt is in Danforth Cemetary IV, off at the far side of town. He wonders which crypt it is? Uncomfortable... Maybe the Ashworth mausoleum? That one's been empty ever since K'z'yx passed of chitin rot, and it was quite a mess for a while. Plus the windows face the sunrise, and you can board them up but you don't want to have to.
So: an extended silence in which to contemplate his choices. Exactly what Mark didn't need.
Ari is blissfully oblivious! However, Mark may have noticed that he is always willing to prattle on about nothing in particular if prompted to do so. Ari is currently, for some reason, under the impression that Mark seems like the kind of "speak when you have something to say" person who is bored by idle chatter.
After a minute or so, he comes out with, "So what sort of creature is a Kal'Shakk demon?"
"Very big, for one thing. Well, they look very big, actually they're sort of a fleshy oyster-thing in a massive rock suit. Peaceful society, for the most part, they live in cavern-palaces on their home plane and eat crystals. They have power over earth and stone, which I get a bit of-" he picks up a rock and, concentrating, turns it into a picture-perfect robin- "and human crosses get strength and toughness and that whole package. That's true of most half-demons, human blood plays very nicely with demonic."
"Nice trick. Very pretty."
"Do you want it? I can make it colorful and sparkly and things with a bit of effort, it could spruce up your crypt a bit. I've got shelves full of rocky sculpture stuff, this would probably just get slagged anyway."
"That would be very sweet of you."
Ari turns the bird over in his hands. "Tell me what colors you want it, I can go authentic red and brown or black and purple or however you like. For that matter, I can make it a whole different thing, though if you want a unicorn or something I'll need a few more rocks."
"Authentic, why not."
Whimsically, he decides to float it over to perch on Mark's shoulder. Oh, telekinesis. The easiest and also best witchcraft.
Mark giggles. And pets the bird.
"I can make it glossy or sparkly if you like, but. Authentic robin, right there."
"It's adorable." And totally made of rocks. But he is scooping it off his shoulder and cuddling it anyway.
It is unresponsive to cuddles, but it can be presumed to love him very much.
"And if you want it enchanted or something let me know, my roommate's absolutely fantastic at that stuff. She always gives out little trinkets at Christmas that glow mood lighting or sing lullabies or give massages or whatever. She could make the authentic robin an authentic singing robin!"
"I think I'm fine with it just the way it is."
Ari lets him return to robin-cuddling.
Mark cuddling his stone robin is terribly adorable.
Further awwwing! Mostly internal. Making people happy is Ari's favorite thing to do.
It is the cutest little stone robin and it is pretty and nice and representative of interpersonal goodwill and Mark loves it so much. Snuggle snuggle.
Sunnydale is a pretty big town, and it's made bigger by the presence of eighteen different cemeteries, but eventually they arrive at Danforth IV. It's a newer one, close to the outskirts, but parts of it have managed to become properly dilapidated. Ari's got a few demonic friends living here (and a few vampiric acquaintances), so he's familiar with the real estate. Is Mark living in the Ashworth mausoleum, like he thought?
"...It occurs to me," he says, looking at it, "that you might have more trouble getting to my crypt than I do."
Which neatly explains how he managed to score his own crypt: while it's technically possible for a vampire or demon, or even a sufficiently motivated human, to climb that fence, it's not something most people would do for kicks. And the gates have long since rusted shut. He could probably even be living in the mansion itself, if he wanted, assuming it's still standing; no one has been in there in years to check, and there's a formerly well-tended forest blocking any direct view of the house from the road.
"How did you get- unless- oh, yeah, the forest got uncursed a while back. Used to be if you went in you'd have a subjective eternity in a hellish pocket reality and go insane. Makes sense it wouldn't have trickled down through the househunters, they'd only really know if they tried to go in. I guess I shouldn't tell Garro about it yet, he'd be glad of the space but I wouldn't want to make you cohabit with a Rallk unless you're fond of being serenaded every morning with a hundred and twenty decibels of nails-on-chalkboard screeching."
"Yeah, I much prefer the quiet."
Ari looks at the fence, makes a judgment, and crouches. Then he leaps into the air, accelerated by the push of telekinesis, and clings to the upper bar of the fence. From there he pulls himself up and over, does a brief handstand on the top, and drops to the ground for a three-point landing. He stands in order to bow extravagantly.
He takes a running leap, touches the fence about two-thirds of the way up, hauls himself the rest of the way without breaking momentum, and comes down neatly next to Ari. Not as flashy overall, but much faster. Showing off in his own way, perhaps.
Ari applauds politely. "Eight points from the Kal'shakk judge. Not enough showboating, but excellent performance."
"I'm a trained bloody assassin. Showboating is not my style."
"I don't make the rules, Mark. I just enforce them, with brutal efficiency. Occasionally that means drastic measures like two points off your fence-jumping score."
Snort.
"If you're broken up about it, I can think of some activity where we can both win. Maybe a game best practiced inside. Would you like to show me your crypt?"
All right. Last moment for him to admit he is a little bit terrified of touching people.
Nah. Maybe it'll be fine. It's not like he's tried this before and knows he'll fuck it up.
"I would love to show you my crypt," he says brightly.
Mark is a very good actor! Ari suspects nothing. Ari suspects that this is going to be very fun, because Mark seems remarkably (ooh, he'll have to save that one) enthusiastic.
The crypt is in the forest. Mark knows the way.
Ari follows cheerfully! He does most things cheerfully, but following someone he's imminently going to have sex with is one of the things he does most cheerfully of all.
"Welcome to my tiny miserable home," Mark says dryly.
But not right now. Right now, he has other priorities. "So," he grins, "how do you want to play this? You mentioned the ring, but I like to go sweet before going hard, unless you're just dying for it."
"I'm not opposed to sweet."
He's very good at this.
He is so pretty and so nice and Mark had no idea of the extent to which he would be unable to cope with this. He ceases to move or breathe.
Ari is not known for his sensitivity, but he can recognize the difference between a lover and a statue. He pulls away and looks at Mark in confusion. "Mark, are you alright? I know I'm a good kisser, but I don't usually induce paralysis."
"Sorry," he murmurs dizzily. "Sorry... I don't - I didn't know it would be so nice."
"...Yeah, that's why I do it. It's nice. Do you want to keep doing it? I can treat the statue act as an endearing quirk if you're enjoying yourself."
"Does it not... feel like falling down a bottomless pit, to most people? A very nice bottomless pit, but still... oh what the hell, maybe I'll get used to it," he says, and this time he kisses Ari. For implicitly never having done this before, he seems to have picked up the basics pretty fast. And he doesn't freeze up as soon as they make contact this time.
After a bit more kissing, he pulls back. "So, bottomless pit: still there? Becoming more bottomful? Getting worse? Communication seems good here."
"Still there," he murmurs. "Still bottomless. I am getting used to it, a little. It's a pleasant sort of bottomless pit."
"Well, pleasant bottomless pits sound tautologically pleasant. Just- tell me if it stops being so pleasant, okay? Or at least freeze in place again."
"I think I can manage at least one of those."
Kissing resumes. Ari is not going any further than this when bottomless pits are involved until explicitly told to do so or a downright excessive amount of time has passed.
Oh hell, now he's crying. Fuck. What's the secret? How do people deal with this? Do they just not feel this way at all when they touch each other? What is it like instead?
He tries to ignore his silent shivering tears, but Ari can probably detect them. They are not subtle.
"Okay, I know I didn't specify crying as an escape clause, but I'm exercising my discretion here. Would you like a hug, or would that be counterproductive?"
Yes of course he wants a hug. Yes of course it would be counterproductive. Why is it so hard to breathe. Why is Mark such a failure at positive interaction of any kind. He thought he was doing so well.
"...yeah, I'll take a hug," he manages.
Ari hugs him. He is a good hugger in addition to his other talents. He rubs Mark's back and makes vague soothing noises.
Mark cries on him rather pathetically. Lots of stifled sobbing and tiny sniffly sounds and tears all over everything.
Ari is used to people crying on him. He's approachable that way. He can keep backrubbing and sshing and generally soothing for quite some time.
"...Thanks. Sorry. I didn't... mean for that to happen."
"Man, don't apologize for freaking out. You can try to tell me why it happened if you want, we can try again if you think it's over with, you can tell me to get out of your misery-hole and leave you to rot. I probably wouldn't though, leaving people to be depressed while I could be there bugging them is against my religion."
"I suspect it happened because this is the first time in my life someone has touched me for nice reasons."
Ari squeezes Mark a bit. "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard. I'm not going to stop hugging you for at least a week."
He giggles softly. "Aw. You're very sweet."
Ari nudges Mark's head with his own. "In case you're wondering, yes, this is the quickest I've gone from giving someone death threats to promising to shower them with rainbows. It's a hotly contested record, but you've just blown past every other participant."
"I'm very proud," he giggles.
"You should be. My hugs are in high demand, and you've just been given a voucher for a lifetime supply. I might make you a medal too. And a sonnet. And more birds. Maybe I'll get you some flowers. I mentioned burying you in nice things, right?"
"Why are you so nice."
"I believe, and have no reason to doubt, that there is absolutely no feeling better than knowing you've made someone else happy. So I do it as much as I possibly can. And you deserve so many nice things that I couldn't give you enough in a million years."
Mark hugs him tightly.
"You are agonizingly nice. It's lovely. Continue. I will probably cry on you a lot."
Ari kisses the top of his head. "I'm writing you that sonnet."
Weepy giggles ensue.
"O Mark, that pretty vampire who is so... I mentioned I'm bad at sonnets, right? I'm bad at sonnets. Good at punching, good at kissing, good at related activities, sonnets not so much."
"I'm good at murder and impersonating my brother. And having emotional breakdowns, apparently. I want better talents."
"You're good at being cute. You're good at keeping your soul. You're good at climbing fences and finding a place to live and at laughing at stuff that's only funny to you, which really belongs under "being cute," but I'm giving it to you separately because it deserves another point. I don't know, Mark, I'm seeing a lot of checks in the plus column."
Apparently the answer to flattery is snuggles.
"I never denied that." He kisses Mark's head again, because he's cute and that merits head-kisses.
Hug.
"I'm not so sure that I kept my soul," he says. "I might just not have been using it for anything in the first place. I'm not sure what a sense of morality is or how I would know if I had one."
"...well, if you didn't keep your soul, you're good at being fine without a soul. Souls are overrated, in my opinion; I've known some perfectly nice demons without any."
Experimentally, he wipes his eyes. Maybe he is done crying for now! Wouldn't that be exciting!
"So, the bottomless pit of terror thing. Is it the kind of thing that could be overcome with exposure? Because I can do that. Or anything else that might help, really, I can move mountains etcetera for the sake of making you feel better. Though if you want me to move an actual mountain it'll take a while and I'm not sure how it'd help, so I might request an explanation."
"Exposure does seem to make it more... bearable. Sort of. And even if the practical benefits are questionable, I still like kissing you."
"So, was that an invitation, or just a statement of fact? I'd rather not presume."
"You're adorable. Please kiss me."
Not that kind of feeling. (He'll ask about that in a bit.)
The bottomless pit is getting downright delightful. Mark is so pleased.
It sounded kind of like that might happen! Ari would be very pleased with this if he knew what was going on inside Mark's head. And if he wasn't busy being pleased with other things. As it is, he is very pleased with those other things anyway.
There are many pleasing things going on! And many ways to be pleased about them.
Unlike Mark, Ari still needs to breathe (once every ten minutes, but still). While doing so, he decides to ask "How do you feel about moving on to slightly more advanced bottomless pits?"
"Mm... Recklessly adventurous."
Some part of Ari feels that the word "recklessly" should not be used in response to a sentence involving the phrase "bottomless pit". The rest of him is too busy feeling to feel the same.
Ooh. Feelings.
Are they good feelings? Because Ari is, in fact, good at feeling. It's a skill he's developed.
Mark may venture to do some feeling of his own. He has less practice, but is a quick study and very enthusiastic about the concept.
Ari feels good things about that!
Very good things. That quick study thing is handy. Mark is good at so many things.
He is rapidly gathering more palatable talents than murder!
Ari is so glad about that. For so many reasons.
Also the bottomless pits do not seem to be interfering at all. How delightful.
Excellent. Ari's been keeping an eye out for them. In between being very pleased and being so happy and being proud of Mark and all those other things he's been feeling.
So many good things are being felt here!
So many.
Then there can be snuggles.
"So, was that a good introduction to positive physical contact?"
"Yes. It was perfect. I'm delighted. You're delightful." He kisses Ari's shoulder, this being the nearest kissable part of Ari. "I couldn't have asked for a better person to cry all over."
"And you were a delight to be cried on by, if I might say so."
He giggles. "Thanks."
He snores with amazing volume. And he drools a bit into Mark's hair. And he probably couldn't be pried off with a crowbar.
In light of what Ari has done for him, Mark will even put up with the drool.
That's good, because short of involving crowbars or putting a stadium airhorn up to his ear, no force on Earth is going to remove this man.
Mark can think of some other options. (He rather wishes he couldn't.) But he likes Ari, so: snuggles.
Zzzzzzzz.
Snuggle, snuggle. Hey, he doesn't even have to make excuses for not having slept when Ari wakes up: he's a vampire, he sleeps during the day. Which this isn't.
Ari smiles in his sleep, it may be noted. He's as happy when he's dreaming as he is the rest of the time, but with less interference from the varied unpleasantnesses of the world. He dreams himself adventures and battles and fair maidens and/or princes, the last of which is probably fairly obvious at the moment.
Well, that's adorable.
Ari would probably object to Mark's choice of words, were he awake and aware of them. As it is, he continues being adorable.
He is utterly adorable. Mark adores him.
Ari sleeps until about noon. When he wakes up, he is (as always) a bit fuzzy around the brainpan.
"...Maaark? Mark. 'morn'n."
"Good morning, Ari."
"Dreamed 'bout saving you from... dragon," he mumbles conversationally.
Mark laughs and cuddles him. "Yeah? And then what?"
"Then weeeeee... had sex? Think so."
"How'd I guess."
Ari laughs sleepily. "Sorry for poking you. It was nice."
"I don't mind." Snuggle.
"Mark, can I please fix your misery hole? Crypts should be cheerful, homey places. This looks like somewhere you'd put dead people."
"It is somewhere you'd put dead people. There are in fact dead people in it, even if you don't count me." He gestures to the coffins in their alcoves. "What exactly do you want to do to my misery hole?"
"Make it pretty and less miserable, and possibly give you a spacious basement in which to put depressing corpses. Corpses are a secondary function of crypts at best."
"Suit yourself. I'm not attached to the current architecture. I might rather put me in the basement and leave the corpses where they are, though. They've been here longer than I have."
He touches the wall and hums, drawing power from the earth. This is going to be pretty big; making the bird was a fiddly little job, but this is going to be broad strokes and heavy lifting. Earth power's cooperative, though. Probably won't be any trouble.
The wall shivers as the cramped ceiling of the crypt warps and begins to glow. After a few minutes, it's gone from gloomy, claustrophobic eaves to a nice spacious dome that sends a gentle natural light through the (still mostly horrible, but now a bit cheerier) crypt.
Ari looks contemplatively at the corners of the room. "Can I just do the vacuum tornado trick, or do you object to spider-killing? Should I relocate them to the woods instead?"
He shrugs. "Well, spiders are useful for getting rid of other bugs, but I'm not moved to defend them for their own sake."
Ari then peeks under the lid of a suspiciously generic coffin. It turns out to be empty. "Do you want the entrance inside this coffin? Hides it a bit. Plus it's cool."
Mark laughs. "Sure."
Ari grins, puts his hands on the coffin, and pushes with his stoneshaping. There will be stairs, leading down, the earth will compress into stone and the stone will compress into itself because he is of earth and stone, he is strength and solid form and stability. Slowly, but speeding up as he goes, the rock and dirt cooperate.
It'll take him something like fifteen minutes to get the basement dug out.
Mark watches him in fascination the whole time.
The shaping itself is more interesting, but since Ari hasn't put his clothes back on and the exertion causes his muscles to ripple under his skin and sweat to bead on his body, it's certainly a worthwhile sight.
Eventually, though, he wipes his brow and straightens up, cracking his neck thoroughly. "That's that done, then," he pants. "Do you want to see?"
But first he wants to kiss Ari. That definitely takes precedence.
Precedence only goes so far, though. He did a thing! He wants to show Mark the thing he did for him! He breaks off and grins and makes a sweeping gesture towards the coffin-stairs.
Oh, absolutely. Mark cheerfully descends the stairs to see what Ari has made of his miserable little crypt.
*Not coincidentally.
Ari shuffles his feet slightly. "How d'you like it?"
Mark contemplates the room for a few long, thoughtful seconds, and then turns and kisses Ari again. Emphatically.
Well, that's good. Ari's happy about that. Ari's so happy about that. He's really, really glad Mark likes the room, and that Mark's kissing him. He's glad of Mark in general.
"I like it a lot," he says, when he is done kissing Ari. "In case you couldn't tell. I admit I'm mystified as to why you gave me windows, though. Please tell me it wasn't for the view."
"It wasn't for the view," laughs Ari. "I'm going to see if Sally can teach me to make those windows that show you the view from a different window. And then visit somewhere I know with a really nice view."
The seventeen-inch height difference makes kissing Ari a little inconvenient. Mark decides that this time he will solve the problem by climbing Ari. There. Now their faces are properly on a level. Kisses!
Ari cooperates gallantly with the climbing and the kissing, and less gallantly supports Mark by a convenient grip once he's up there. He checks a few times that the convenient grip remains firm. It's important to be careful about such things.
"You are precious and delightful," he asserts.
"I like to think so," Ari grins. Lacking any pretext at all, he just gooses him again. It's satisfying!
Mark chooses to respond to this indignity with kisses. Mm. What a delicious creature Ari is.
He is delicious. In fact, given he used a teeth-cleaning spell this morning and it leaves him with the slight flavor of almond extract, he could be said to be magically delicious.
"Precious and delightful and extremely attractive," he elaborates, when some more kisses have gone by.
"And you're sweet," kiss, "and adorable," kiss, "and so pretty I hardly know what to do with you. You're delightful and loverly and I want to make you as happy as I possibly can."
"You are atrociously fucking charming." More kisses are clearly required.
"Have I charmed you, then? Can I make it up to you somehow?"
"Put me down," he suggests, grinning.
Ari figures it out.
Ari looks very, very happy.
Mark has some interesting new skills to practice!
Ari is always happy to help. And give copious feedback.
Mm.
After feedback has been given, Ari may feel the need to get some practice in himself. It's important to keep one's hand in, after all.
Mark has no objections. He is downright enthusiastic, in fact. Positive feedback will definitely ensue.
Ari always approves of feedback. It's a sign he's doing something right.
"You are an absolute delight," says Mark, hugging him. "A complete fucking treasure. I adore you. And I'm not even crying about it this time, look."
"It's wonderful. I love you," Ari murmurs.
Mark freezes.
"Um. Sorry. I... that may have been early. To tell you that."
Mark gives up on words and instead moves straight to weepy clinging. He's been pretty good so far about toning down the vampire strength to human-tolerable levels, not having gotten a clear read on Ari's durability, but he's rather beyond that kind of self-control now. A baseline human would be in serious trouble if subjected to this much hug.
Ari couldn't exactly be said to be comfortable, but fragile he is not. Terrified vampire hugs are a pressure he can bear. He pets Mark's back as soothingly as he can.
"It's good that you love me," he manages, after a minute or so, because this is important information which should be communicated as soon as possible. "It's amazing. You're amazing. I love you too."
"I'm- I'm so glad. You're incredible, I'm glad I found you so I can tell you how amazing you are. And tell you you're pretty and I love you and- everything else."
"It's just - if kissing is a bottomless pit then love is a black hole. But I don't care, I wouldn't miss it for the world."
That statement merits more hugging. And nuzzles.
Those are both good things.
After a while of cuddling, Ari remembers that time exists.
"Shit, I should really get back to the apartment so I can get to work on enchanting that sword thing for Rak'noth. Do you have a cell phone or something like that for communication?"
"Nah. I'll see you again, though. And you can always drop by and leave a note if I happen to be out."
"I will," Ari promises. With one last kiss, he collects his clothes and heads home.
Mark goes to sleep in his glorious new basement. Perhaps he should get more blankets now that he has a room worth trying to sleep comfortably in. A mattress, even. It'll be interesting trying to get it over the fence, but he's resourceful.