cultor | The Blue Note 'Residence'

Hopefully. [He quips through the tether with Ivan. Even as he 'speaks' he writes through it, exiting behind Ivan as he enters into the light. The unease the other feels through their bond is evident, though Ivan does a good job of visibly masking it.

It helps that he can't see his eyes through the sunglasses. Grinning at Sunny, he holds up his notebook.]

Who doesn't love a little therapeutic vandalism?

['Our Sunny,' Ivan says, and that sensation rushes up again. They're old friends. He's their Sunny.

[After that, the dread creeps in. If he belongs to someone, he's not sure he wants it to be Ivan. Their tether strangely twinges. He doesn't feel one with Till, though he wishes he did... He's such a kind person, always "speaking" with Sunny the only way Sunny can speak.

[Vandalism. How daring. Sunny feels a little thrill, something between anxiety and excitement. He has to think about it a minute... It's not like anyone is here to get them in trouble.

[Eventually, he...shrugs. Not in an uncaring way - more so a, "Whatever you say."]

[ The close timing of everything causes Ivan to realize something.

( Till in his head sharing a private word. The tug on his other, other line, like it anxiously wishes it would snap. )

He's never tried to communicate with Sunny in that way, no... not that he can remember? Would it be of use? Would it be more of the same...? While they wait for Till to take his lead, he looks at silent little Sunny curiously, watching for his reaction. ]

Hello. [ He keeps out other noise, picking out soft words and placing them in a vacuum. ] I'd uninvite myself for you. But it was Till's idea.

[ Till's ideas are important. ]

[That's okay. Till takes this as a good shrug. Sunny doesn't look distressed. He's probably just never vandalized anything before.

. . . Not that Till REALLY has. Not without getting the shit beat out of him. And he was never really given any weapons or materials TO do real vandalism with. Not without cameras and a collar around his neck to get a good picture.

He sure as hell wanted to, though. So this will be therapeutic for him, too.

Till isn't privy to their private conversation, so he simply lifts his notebook again and flashes them both a thumbs up.]

I'll lead the way.

[Follow him!]

[Ivan's words creep up their tether, into Sunny's throat instead of his ears. It makes his eyes go slightly wide, and he turns to look at Ivan as the group starts walking, Till in the lead.

[He knows how this works, how people communicate, sometimes even without their masks (in Sunny's case, a blindfold). It's when they tether that they can "talk" just like this, but Sunny...

[He still has nothing to say. No words are returned, but he reaches over and grips one of Ivan's buggish hands, only long enough to let him know he's there. He shakes his head. He doesn't want him uninvited. That would be mean...

[That's what passes through the murmur, their tether, the most. Sunny doesn't want to be mean.

[That, and...bafflingly, perhaps shockingly, some feeling of safety that only Ivan can bring, hidden beneath thin layers of fear for the same man. It makes little sense to Sunny, probably less to Ivan...

[He's sorry.]

[ Don't go...?

That's one interpretation, and the one he supposes he'll go with in honor of the togetherness Till is hoping to inspire. He lightly clenches and unclenches his hand around the lingering sensation of it being held.

They're all on the move now. That isn't the problem itself. The problem is that he's the only one who can speak out loud. And what a nuisance he'd be to try to make conversation, cause Till to have to stall again and again to write something.

So he doesn't.

He just hums a little, albeit nothing familiar. Idle melody made up on the spot. ]

[Sometimes, Till prefers using the notebook.

. . . Maybe prefers isn't the right word. His entire existence was intricately tied to his voice, though. His self-worth and his usefulness were connected in a way that decided whether he lived or died.

Even before the stage, Till wouldn't have lived long if his voice wasn't worth keeping around. Urak made it abundantly clear he would have snuffed out his life ages ago if not for his musical abilities.

There had been children before Till. He knew Urak was more than capable of disposing of him.

Now... his life is his own, though. He doesn't have to use his voice to stay alive. It's HIS to do what he wants with it, when he wants.

So why does he feel so reticent to use it ever since his injury? He uses the tether and murmur without hesitation. He even spoke normally within the dream.

Maybe it's fear...? His throat isn't as bad as it once was. His voice is slowly coming back, even if it hurts a bit and is still scratchy. What if it doesn't fully return to normal, though? Does that bother him...? Or is it a relief? He has full control over his life now.

. . . Mostly. He's still suspicious of Sleep. She's definitely fucking with all of them.

Falling down a rabbit hole of uncertainty, Till shakes it off and instead tries to focus on listening to Ivan's humming. It's soothing... his voice. It always has been. He likes listening to him sing. As they walk, Till's fingers move, notes swimming through his head as though adding a back track to the sound of Ivan's humming.

His hands fall, though, once they reach their destination. He turns around and grins, before quickly writing in his notebook.]

We're here. We don't have to go deep inside, but once through the entrance, that should block out most the light for Ivan.

[Sunny doesn't mind the quiet walk, nor Ivan's humming. It doesn't unsettle him the way it might in the dark. He moves his head just slightly back and forth as they make their way through the city streets, all the way to the station. Sunny hesitates at the entrance.

[It does look awfully dark inside...]

[ Ivan's hand settles on Till's shoulder, his hold firm for a few seconds. Stay, it says without saying.

It's so bright out here and so black in there, it looks like a divide between dimensions. However, Ivan is volunteering himself to go first. He knows where he's most comfortable. He'll head through once he's sure the others won't.

His eyes adjust quickly. Right away, he doesn't need his shaded glasses any longer and clips them to the color of the coat. A single long tunnel extends for something like fifty feet, featureless except for a set of silvery railings in the distance, implying that past them is a set of stairs heading down. He worries what may be beyond them from the stories he's heard on the Murmur.

That said, he won't doubt his senses. They say there's nothing alive here that's larger than a bug.

When he's sure, he whistles with his fingers to his lips. ]

[He hates to admit it, but if something IS lurking inside the enterance somewhere, Ivan is the best equipt to deal with it. He would be the first one to see it, too. Waiting is hard, but it doesn't take long for Ivan to signal that it's safe for them to head on in after him.

Till motions for Sunny to go next with a smile and nod in the direction of the entrance. He can tail behind him so that if anything decides to try and sneak up on them from their back, it'll have to deal with him, first.

It IS insanely dark inside. But as Till steps through the enterance himself, he holds out a hand and multiple balls of light appear to hover above it. The lights float up higher into the air, one drifting toward Sunny like a glowing torch, while two circle around Till.

Ivan probably doesn't need one- light tends to bother him, but if it seems like he needs or wants one, he'll send one his way, too. What Ivan and Sonny WILL find, a moment later, is a can of spraypaint that he tosses through the air their way. Better catch!

Till sets his bag down and fishes inside for one himself, which he sets on the ground before writing another note.]

You guys ready? We're gonna paint! Write or paint whatever you feel like in the moment! You can tell Sleep to fuck off, doodle, or paint something real. There are more colors in the bag. I found a bunch.

[He checked them all out, already, to make sure they work, too.]

[Ivan sends a signal, Till brings light. Sunny is still uneasy in the black tunnel, but he can see Till's writing clearly, as well as the colors on the spraypaint bottles. He's never used one before, never particularly suspected to, but...it's a little neat. He picks up a purple can and experimentally sprays a dot on the nearest wall. A little chill thrills through him, and he bounces once on his feet.]

[ Pretty.

The soft illumination that Till provides for them, familiar enough that it doesn't fill him with primordial fear. Even that part of his brain recognizes that the source of this light is safe.

Snatching the incoming can out of the air, he immediately begins to inspect it, almost making the amateur mistake of touching the nozzle while it's pointed at him. This is that stuff Till used to make his first "costume" for the stage, Ivan remembers. Did he toss him a blue-colored one on purpose...? It's fitting. It's what runs through his veins now.

Ivan is not an artist. At all. Seeing Sunny start to experiment however, he elects to follow his example, starting on a large shaky heart.

He'll figure out what he's brave enough to put inside of it later. ]

Edited (i forgot i was called out) 2025-10-21 02:50 (UTC)

[Ehee. He watches as Sunny experiments a little. The first time he used one he didn't really know what to do with it. He hasn't had much of an opportunity before now.

It's fun to experiment with new things though. Till has always leaned into his artistic side, too. It's the easiest way for him to express himself.

Till flashes Sunny a thumbs up. Go on-! Honestly, he's kind of curious what he might come up with. He pulls up his notebook again.]

Show me what you've got! Or if you need help, let me know. Pour it out into your art.

[Glancing to Ivan's he studies it a moment, though. A heart. Approaching, he lifts a hand to point to himself, and then at the heart. Can he work on it, too?]

[Sometimes, Till almost reminds Sunny of Kel, so enthusiastic, so encouraging, eager to help, and kind. Sunny's not sure what he'd paint to make Kel proud, and he's not sure what he'll pain to make Till proud, but he'll have to think of something. For a moment, he's quiet, rolling the can around in his hands, considering.

[He starts with a cloud.]

[ For someone who used to be very near completely silent, Ivan isn't good at charades. Till's gesture has him going a little stock-still, a little wide-eyed, as it looks like he's asking if the heart is for him. To understand why this is significant enough to stop him in his tracks, one must understand that he's never been approached so boldly before despite being what one might call bold himself.

He shakes his head, yes, as it doesn't make sense to do anything else.

He sure will stare, awaiting his next move, however. ]

[Maybe he can incorporate the cloud, too. Hmm. He'll see. For a moment, Till studies the heart and Sunny's work in silence before nodding and returning to his bag to pull out a different color.

Ivan seemed to give his consent, so it should be all right for him to add to it. To start with, it might seem difficult to make out as he starts working around the heart in what might seem a little like a blob to begin with.]

[The boys make two blobs. Sunny's cloud has melted, dripping down in thick globs that create an oblong shape overall. He appears laser-focused on the task, black eyes unblinking as he moves the can around, spraying with more confidence - or, perhaps, less inhibition is a more apt way to put it.]

[ What is art.

Ivan watches in order to find out.

They're so very, very focused all of a sudden. It's messy work, too. The paint isn't staying exactly where it's placed, wet on the walls, and there's a churning cloud of aerosol-stink forming around them. However, the others seem to be either oblivious, or they've already accepted that it's just another part of this task.

Well, the inspiration behind his stupid heart has already been called out, so he switches out the color of his canister. Within the contour, some haphazard spritzes of paint quickly turn into some sort of spiky... thing.

In the brightest green that was available. ]

[Hee hee. He feels a moment of pleasure, eyes shifting to Sunny working. It looks like he's getting into it. He's always so shy and reticent, so it's good, he thinks, to see him gaining a bit of confidence with something.

Art really is great like that. You can do whatever, and it doesn't matter, since it's your own creation.

As Till works, the blob around Ivan's begins to take on more shape. In fact, it looks as though it's becoming a hand that is holding the heart, as though offering it to another.]

[Sounds has faded from Sunny's ears. If Ivan is speaking, he doesn't hear it. If Till is writing, he doesn't read it. Even the sound of Ivan's insect legs on the concrete is lost before it reaches Sunny's ears. He continues to paint; Something with an eye right in the center.

[He drops the can with a loud clatter.]

[ A sudden loud noise in a place they haven't thoroughly explored gives Ivan a start, his neck snapping toward the source. There's not much of an incline within the tunnel, but the can still sets off rolling just from the momentum alone.

The point of one of Ivan's rearmost legs puts a stop to it. ]

What's wrong?

[ The artwork isn't even close to being a suspect; a black blob isn't scary. ]

Did you see something crawling around — besides me?

[Alarm has him turning toward Sunny. Did something happen? Is someone there? 'A bug' Ivan says. He thinks Ivan would have heard if something larger than that had tried to approach. He doesn't even have to mentally ask.

And like Ivan, the painting doesn't draw any sort of alarm bells for him. A touch confused, Till approaches, lifting a hand to rest atop Sonny's head while he tips his own to the side.

'What's wrong?' it seems to ask in response, mirroring Ivan, while attempting to reassure him that they're both there and nothing is going to get him.]

Edited 2025-10-31 01:20 (UTC)

[Sunny looks from Ivan to Till, from Till to Ivan, back again and back again. There's a grounding hand on his head, and Ivan, bigger than any bug - but is he stronger than Sunny's worst fears? Sunny closes his eyes tight, the darkness behind his lids preferable to the dim lighting of the tunnel. He turns into Till, pressing his face into the boy's shoulder.]

[ Till is handling it, and it's best to let him. Even when willingly making contact with his carapace, Ivan's felt the way Sunny needs to steel himself beforehand. Staying where he is, he tries to find a moment in the midst of the commotion to meet the other idol's eyes, if only to silently confirm that they're both equally unsure of what's going on.

There's nothing in here with them; nothing's changed. ]

I don't sense any Hosts.

[Till meets Ivan's gaze just as Sunny burrows against him, and his eyes widen a little. People don't... they don't come to him for comfort. He's gotta be totally bad at it. He doesn't know what to say or do. In fact, a sense of guilt begins to tug at his heart.

Was this a mistake? He had thought it would be fun and might help distract Sunny, but maybe he made things worse somehow. He always fucks everything up.

. . . Memories flash through his mind as he attempts to think back to his provider. Gentle hands, a soft voice, and a warm touch... these are the sorts of things he recalls, even though he has trouble remembering her face.

Uncertainly, his arms wrap around Sunny, a hand lifting to gently stroke the back of his head. This is how she would have done it, he thinks. A complicated expression crosses his features as he moves to open his mouth, and then shuts it.

. . . He can't write and comfort him at the same time. And they aren't tethered. Not that he thinks Sunny of all people is against silence. He swallows, hesitates, and then his lips part again.

His voice is quiet and slightly breathy, as though unsure if he can go into his proper register.]

Hey... It-It's alright.

[His hand continues to pet the back of his head gently.]

Can you show us what's wrong?

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this is so cute sdlfskdfj crying hard

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nothing larger than a bug, huh?

LISTEN....

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