[OPEN] forever unforgiven

[tarquin finley ellis]

He was allowing his breathing to regulate, feeling the fingers at his spine and keeping still for the moment; processing it all. When blue eyes held his, he gave a small smile and reached out to brush strands of hair from the male's face. A few seconds later he rolled to the side a little and reached for his pants. He didn't get up, but Quinn wasn't a cuddler. Instead he was going for his pack of cigarettes again, grabbing one, putting it to his lips and lighting it with a tap of his finger before taking a drag and offering one to the male as well, along with a candle shaped flicker of flame on a fingertip held out.

Whatever the male's reaction -- take it or leave it -- Quinn sat up, resting one hand on the guy's thigh lightly as he let his thoughts wander. There were glances sent over the male here and there, and the bullet mark had him questioning, if only to himself. Made him wonder just how many times this guy tried to off himself. And how long it might take for the male to actually die. "My name's Tarquin." It's a sudden afterthought put into words. How amusing, to think he didn't even know the guy's name. "But just Quinn, or Finn, even." Whichever, didn't matter. People didn't usually go with Finn except his mother and some of the family, but Quinn didn't mind it any.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor gazed at him quietly as his hair was pushed back. When the male sat up, he gradually did as well, pulling his boxers on before scooting over against the wall. He looked down at the hand on his thigh, covering it absently with his own before taking the offered cigarette. And then there was a flicker of flame on the male's fingertip and he blinked in utter confusion. That wasn't even possible.... So of course, he blew it off as a lighter trick. He knew a guy who was a pyromaniac, could do amazing things with a lighter and oil of his hands. Perhaps the guy was trying to impress.

With that excuse in his head, Connor lit the cigarette and took a slow drag, his body relaxed though his chest rose and fell shakily, his sick body trying to regulate it again. He looked over at the mention of a name and smirked faintly. They had never bothered introduce. "Quinn.." He breathed thoughtfully on an exhale of smoke, as if to remember it. "I'm C-Connor.." He bit his lip at that ever lingering stutter, could not help it, drug damage in the nerves and the brain. But even the exhanging of names meant something to him, meant there was identity, they weren't just two guys alone in a gym.

[tarquin finley ellis]

He didn't really think about the fire thing anymore, certainly not enough to give pause right now when he'd done it. This place was full of the strange, after all. No one barely blinked when something odd or out of the ordinary happened. Things that normal people couldn't explain? Happened here all the time. The male would find that out soon enough, he was sure. So Quinn didn't even watch for a reaction, forgetting for a moment that this guy, for now at least, didn't see this as the norm. After the male's cigarette was lit, the flame was gone.

It didn't take Quinn long to follow suit and pull on his boxers as well, then his pants right after. To hell with the shirt though. He wasn't putting it back on until the staff made a fuss over it. And even then it was possible he'd ignore such a command. He was pulled from thoughts when the male spoke -- Connor -- and Quinn nodded to show he'd heard. There was no need to say anything more; the simple pleasentries usually passed along would only be funny at this point to say, considering what they'd been doing only minutes before. So Quinn smoked in silence, content with that for now.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor held the cigarette between his teeth as he worked his jeans on before easing back next to Quinn again. Somehow the name seemed to fit the guy. Silence had enveloped them aside from the occasional husky breaths from Connor's complaining lungs. He was completely relaxed, stunned that he'd really just done that before even exchanging so much as names. And yet it all felt okay, the guy hadn't up and walked off. But what had caused the sudden sexual spark? All he had asked was if he would see him again. All he had expected was a yes, no or maybe. A faint smile unknowingly passed Connor's lips.

[tarquin finley ellis]

He watched Connor with an even expression, saying nothing when the male settled back next to him. Quinn's collected enough, considering what had happened and how. It wasn't that he was used to doing such things, because that wasn't true. Connor would make the fourth person he'd ever been any kind of sexual with. Quinn still doesn't even know exactly why he did it; there are ideas to it, little things that combined might seem legit... Oh well, he doesn't try to over-analyze it. He doesn't regret it, and that's all he really needs in the way of thinking it over.

Sudden. That was it right there, wasn't it? Because it honestly was not as sudden as Conner might have thought, because there had been little signs, an internal battle on if Quinn should pull away before it could even get that far. Obviously his control was not very good. Never had been, though. At least he can be quite pleased at the amount of self control and holding back it had taken for him to be as careful as he had been. That was something. It was very possible that had Quinn given in to all the demands of his sexual cravings, Conner would be dead now. There is a lot Quinn realizes about the risks taken, but he doesn't say anything.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor caught his little glances and smiled the faintest bit before lowering his gaze to the floor. He rather enjoyed the silence, the smoke curling around them, joining as one from both their lips. He chewed on his lip ring before tapping ashes, at a loss for words. Maybe that was because at the moment, he really didn't need them. Which was fine, since Quinn had yet to finalize his plans of leaving. Yes, Connor was trying to milk as much time as he could. It had been too terribly long since somebody had actually looked his way without judgement.

[tarquin finley ellis]

It's comfortable silence, and it gives him time to just think. He's been doing a lot of that recently, but probably more because there just hasn't been anyone worth talking to. Not for longer then a few minutes, anyway. He tended to get a bit bored quickly, or irritated. Either way, that sort of thing would cut a conversation short. It was good to just sit back and relax in the company of someone else, someone he was at ease around. Everything was settling back to normal as he smoked. He wasn't sure how long he could sit here like this once the cigarette was out -- he wasn't great at holding still that long -- but for now it was okay.

Though Quinn did have to wonder if the staff was looking for Connor by now; it had to have been past the time to check in... which came to another point; Quinn didn't want Connor to have to go through all that bullshit and pain. His first instinct was to try and hide the male, but he knew that wouldn't last for long and it could just end up worse for both of them if he tried. Still, it unsettled him, the whole ordeal and the fact that Connor had no clue what would happen. Quinn couldn't even tell him without seeming, well... more crazy then he already appeared to be. He sighed, ground out the cigarette after a moment and looked at Connor. "Would you like me to show you where they want you to check in?" There was a faint undertone of dread in his voice, but not because he'd be going out of his way, no. Because he honestly didn't want it to happen at all.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor smoked awhile more until Quinn put his cigarette out. He looked over at him, listening to his question. The dread there or something. His voice seemed off. Connor put out his own cigarette reluctantly. He didn't want to go check in. "Pl-lease," He mumbled, coughing huskily. He touched at the faint incave of his stomach gently, then reached for his shirt to pull it on.

He couldn't help how self conscious he was, had been judged far too much. So he had no plans to let anyone but Quinn see his bare body today.

[tarquin finley ellis]

He waited for Connor to reply, unable to help but feel like showing the male where to go was much like bringing a lamb to the slaughter. It didn't sit well with him, but it was probably better then letting Connor get nabbed by some unhappy staff memebers that would drag him in. There was no good way to it, not really, but it was more about the lesser of two evils. Which could almost sorta be a theme in this place, come to think of it.

At the reply, Quinn nodded, idly watching as Connor reached for his shirt to put it on. Well, Quinn wasn't going to put his own on. He didn't care who saw him half naked anyway. He gave no fucks. Plus, shirts were just annoying and in the way in his opinion. He got to his feet, then offered a hand to help Connor up. Guy looked like he could use help with balance just now. Once both were up, he'd start moving in the direction of the check-in area, and out of the gym.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor looked up, taking his hand as it was offered and haulig himself unsteadily to his feet. He let go of Quinn to brace himself on the wall for a moment, then crossed his arms over his thin chest and followed him slowly from the gym. They had told him he would be put into a temporary dorm and signed in, that his check up would be later on. So he could only hope the process went by fast enough. He hated check ins, check ups, doctors... Hospitals were honestly a fear of his. Too many people, too many ways for people to hurt him. It had always been a fear, and soon enough it would be ironically so.

[tarquin finley ellis]

He kept balance easily while Connor got up, then stepped back before starting onward. He wasn't going to let himself think too much about this; there was no way out once in this place, so there were only two options. Let it happen -- with a fight or no -- or.. die, he'd figure. Obviously Quinn wasn't going to just die, but he did have some concern over Connor, and what he already knew about the male and that all too quick acceptance of death. Quinn needed to just push it out of his mind after he went his own way and see what happened. If he did see Connor again, of course.

It didn't take all that long for them to arrive in the building where Connor would have to check in, and he paused a few feet from any of the staff, gaze settling on Connor. "Well, this is it. They should be able to pretty much walk you through whatever from here..." The words are even, he doesn't give away anything. He shrugs, unsure, honestly, where to go from there. "Try to survive?" His smile is a bit wry, and he lets his eyes flicker once more over the male. Then he turned and walked away and back out of the building. Time to put his mind to something else.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor followed him in in silence, eyeing the staff as he did so. Quinn's words caught his attention and he smiled bitterly. "S-survival of the fittest h-has never been in my favor," He mumbled. It aas all he said, watching the male turn and leave. Maybe he would see him again or maybe not. It didn't really matter at this point. For now he had to get through this part alone.

Connor went through the check in with ease, the days of meeting with Deacon, and of being tested on. The misery of nearly dying on the operating table when things went wrong and he sprouted wings. The torture in the cellar. Connor had lost his temper, beat on his doctor. He'd tried slitting his wrists, made a mess of things with Deacon and Derek and had been threatened that some kid would be moved into his room eventually.
And yet he was alive. Nothing pissed Connor off more. He sat outside in the grass, his thin, shirtless chest shuddering as it was racked with coughs, dark wings spread behind him and across the grass. Blue eyes remained diwncast, exhausted and sick. His head was always spinning now, body starving to death. Figers traced up and down the stitches in both his arms in a slow rythm as he thought, calculated, tried to figure out a way to end it all.

[tarquin finley ellis]

That day was pushed to the back of his mind, but it was still there. Quinn had no idea if Connor had survived. He hadn't seen the male again, but it was sort of a big place to begin with, and Quinn wasn't going to search. It wasn't the kind of thing he just did. Either way, he'd focused on what was going on directly around him or to him. Kept him occupied, dealing with the staff and all the shit they decided to put him through. Still reclusive, no incidents since in that manner of speaking. A fight or two, but that's just the way he lived. It simply couldn't be helped.

Finding some free time today, Quinn had made his way out of the building and stepped outside; instantly pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up, inhaling. He started walking, sort of aimlessly, really. Eyes swept over the area quickly, and something nagging caused a second look. A certain tattoo jumped out from the fray, and it didn't take Quinn long to move over towards Conner and flop down close. "They made you an angel? That is some twisted irony right there." He pointed out, lips curled upward wryly as he took another drag of his cigarette.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor jumped uneasily at the sound of a body hittig the ground next to him. He'd been even more uneasy since Deacon had pinned him on the slab in the morgue by the hips. Every touch triggered memories, his father over him. Maybe whatever they were putting into him just had him screwy in the head as well.

And yet the familiar voice eased the set of his jaw and Connor scoffed. "What a-angel has black wigs but a fallen one?" He challenged. "S-some irony. Things n-nearly killed me." He shrugged. He had nearly killed himself, with a scalpel. But Derek had to have walked in at the right moment to see he had slit both arms open. Connor looked down at them, bruised and stitched, a nasty reminder of Connor's one goal.
Then he looked at Quinn, trying to control any emotion, that he was actually glad to see the familiar face. Connor had too much time to think, Quinn having crossed his mind several times, simply in wonder. Now however, he spoke as if they had daily conversation. "H-how've you been?" A stupid question really. But if he didn't say something, his own head would drive him mad.

[tarquin finley ellis]

He blinked at the way Connor jumped, but he honestly should have seen that coming. It wasn't like the guy had been paying attention to what was going on around him, was he? Oh well. Quinn remains calm, unruffled by any of this. He's honestly glad that Connor is still alive, no matter what the male himself might think of that. Inhale, exhale; he raises an eyebrow at the way Connor scoffs at his words. There's a quick, short chuckle and he shakes his head. "Some people say you go to hell for suicide. Irony's still there, darlin'." He answers the challenge head-on, voice as even as ever.

He doesn't seem surprised that the wings had almost killed Connor; he supposed whatever that could come of what they did to him might. Always that chance, and it seemed doubled in the instance of Connor. "Well, at least they're pretty." He comments lightly, reaching out to touch the nearest wing. How very interesting. Quinn ignores the male's arms, he can guess what happened there already. He's not going to say anything about it, either. At the question of how he's been, he shrugs, his other hand lifting the cigarette again for a puff. "Better then you, I'd imagine." Is the bland answer. A pause, gaze straying for a moment. "Take it however you want, but I'm glad you're alive." He adds quietly.