[ P ] Intoxicating is the taste of victory

your veins are full of ice-water

The cold, autumn air that swept in from the coast was enough to urge the behemoth to continue his journey home. And, though he recalled a less than pleased wife that begged him not to leave in the first place, Senka was, in all honesty, the only reason for his decision to even return to Sussex. While he initially declared himself worthless, pathetic, for not offering himself to lend a paw in fighting for the titles and wealth that many alike shared in the mainlands, he considered leaving the title and Manor and all that surrounded it behind. With the exception of Senka, of course. How easily he could have assimilated to a quieter life in the woods of Yorkshire or Rionna, only himself and Senka to take care of. Responsibilities to pick and choose from, faces to choose to see or not ever lay an eye on ever again. How he craved it, but even he knew that deeply rooted somewhere within him was the desire for acknowledgement and wealth and all that came with both. He would return to the steps of the Manor as left them; though this time was different, he was fulfilled and, of course: not sober. He made sure to introduce himself to a good few of those in the armies' ranks; soldiers to Lieutenants, captains and colonels. It wasn't hard to build the start of a bond with the lot of them, the simple fact that they'd successfully slashed an attempt at a total Jacobite overhaul was fuel enough to their fires, the booze a close second to the aid in their friendships that were kindling. They would disband slowly but surely as they all returned to their homes, or headed to the castle or barracks. Augustine would bid them a farewell and leave them with an invitation to the manor; an celebration had to be held, such achievements accomplished were just cause for such an event. The front door would swing loud wide, a heavy paw was hardly managed as he made his way inside. A deep breath drawn in would coax a half smile onto his lips. How bittersweet: what he always wanted to escape was something he so easily sunk right back into. His ears would perk, the silence almost too eery for once. Luci! Lucielle, dear!" he cooed from the door of the foyer. It was dimly lit, and too quiet- it still did not occur to the man that it was closer to Midnight. He would call for Luci once more hoping to lure her to him- though he was making his way around every inch of the foyer. First, to the bar, where he would help himself to a concoction he paid little attention to the ingredients and measurements. Then, he would find his way to the fireplace, a small bit of kindling still hardly lit. He would nudge pieces of firewood into the small pit, though only gaining more smoke than heat or light. He would heave a heavy breath out as he stumbled away from the smoke. As he left it, an older gentlemen would be rushed in to tend to it, and behind him, Lucielle was quick on his heels. Fix that mess, please. Less smoke, more.. fire. she would then race to heels of Augustine, attempting to speak but the behemoth would pivot around to catch the woman. Luci, we've much to plan! And for my Mother, oh! Be sure she receives breakfast in the morning, all of it- whatever she wants. " sober him would have wanted to keep her wrapped up with her own tasks in her own little estate that resided just off to the corner of the property. Augustine would continue his drunken ramblings of excitement and to-do lists, and Luci would follow behind him, cleaning up any messes all while trying to keep the man in a more hushed tone. She would remind him of the hour, and instantly his mind would jump-- Senka! Hmmm, sweetest Senka- Luci, go wake my wife, invite her down here! " he would laugh, a snicker rippling across his lips as he sent her off to poke the beast that was his-likely- sleeping wife. And the invitation to come see him was meant to be more of a demand to Luci, and a request for his wife. Surely she would be pleased to see him again, in whole, and alive- and to hear of the news. It left him thrumming with excitement as he made his way back to the bar, giving an attempt to make himself another drink, and a small selection for his wife to choose from. typentype "

code & art

back then, i was dauntless—

Despite the late hour, Senka is not sleeping. Even if she had been, she doesn’t think there would be any missing the arrival of what is either a very boisterous intruder, or her husband returning home. Considering the letter she’d gotten only earlier that day, she suspects the latter. A slow breath exhales from her lungs, and her heart calms somewhat—Augustine is home, and from the sounds of it, whole.

Throwing back the covers, Senka slips out of bed and down the stairs, heading down the dark hallway that leads to their foyer. Judging by the commotion beyond the door, he’s managed to catch Luci before she slipped out for the night, and she winces to herself; it’s her fault the housekeeper is even still here, having wanted to ensure their home was ready for his arrival, whenever it may be.

Senka manages to catch Lucielle in the hallway, on her way to retrieve Senka herself no doubt, and she offers the housekeeper an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry. Go home,” she says quietly, ushering her out the back door with the insistence that she has everything under control. When she nudges open the door to the foyer, she finds Augustine behind the bar, his back to her as glass bottles clink against each other.

“August,” she murmurs to get his attention, a slight tremor to her voice. Senka’s throat works on a swallow, and she takes another step towards him, waiting for him to turn towards her. She wants nothing more than to throw her arms around his neck, kiss him senseless, and then slap him for being such a fool, but she won’t do any of those things until she’s seen all of him—until she knows that he’s come back to her unharmed,

—i'd burn so bright it blinded

code // art

your veins are full of ice-water

The man was not delicate in his movements, glasses and bottles clicked and clanked as he shuffled himself from the bar to the cabinets; his bottle would slip from between pearly whites and land on the floor, shattering into pieces of all sizes and all the man could do was laugh outloud at himself. He would draw in a deep breath before lifting his muzzle upwards to call on Luci to help him clean it up. As lips parted and his baritones rumbled from his chest, the Drunken behemoth would spin around-too fast, of course- and he began to shout the beginning of Luci's name. he would cut himself short as he heard his own name on his wife's lips just as he spun around. Senka " he would give a relieved breath to pass her name off his tongue. There was a smile besmirching his lips while he trailed around the bar and skirted the end, bolting to where his wife stood. Please, tell me you didn't actually spend all this time worrying about your big, idiot husband." " He took no time in wrapping her up with him, his face burying into her neck and the yarrow perfume that is her flooded his senses. his laugh would return after nearly suffocating in her scent, letting senka slip from his embrace finally. A heavy paw would raise to the bottom of her chin, raising her face to meet his as mismatched hues searched for her familiar, soft olive spectacles. "I have returned, with no new cracks or breaks or scratches- and i--" " he let his words fall on a breath as he withdrew from her, his paw returning to the ground beneath him. A grin plastered his drunken maw. "I think thats cause for a celebration." " He would swivel, the behemoth turning to trot back to his bar. He'd begin muttering numbers and drink names as a paw pushed and shoved the collection he had stored. He would spin around again, a yawn finally besting him. He made it only to the counter of the bar, where he'd rest his chin with a smile still on his face as he searched for his wife once more. He returned home on a high, one that was dwindling and he feared it would be gone quicker than it was achieved. He didn't want to sleep, didn't want to let the rest of his night end but exhaustion crept in slowly, and heavily. typentype "

code & art

back then, i was dauntless—

The sound of glass breaking makes her flinch, startled by the ringing noise in her ears. But then Augustine is there, rushing to her, dragging her into his embrace and Senka burrows herself into the warm familiarity of his chest. "Of course I worried," she whispers fervently, angrily against his fur, though it lacks true heat, and her claws are tangling into his hair as though he will never be close enough again. It's only the pressure of his fingers against her jaw that have Senka moving, tipping her glassy eyes up to meet his that are glazed and unfocused for an entirely different reason. He grins, and it disarms her. She has never been able to hold onto her resolve when Augustine smiles at her.

He swings away from her, proclaiming a cause for celebration, and Senka bites her lip before she rushes after him. "August, wait—the glass—" she warns, bumping into his side to nudge him away from the forgotten, shattered bottle on the floor. And whilst he rummages drunkenly through the other liquors, she makes hasty work of cleaning up the broken glass from the floor, unwilling to leave such a dangerous hazard for Lucielle to stumble upon in the morning.

When she turns back to her husband, she finds him watching her with an inebriated smile, his chin resting on the smooth surface of the bar. Senka wants nothing more than to lose herself in him, to drag him to their bed or the couch or the floor—she doesn't care, she just wants him. But it can never be that simple. Withholding a sigh, she crosses to their oversized dining table to grab a folded piece of parchment, and then turns back to the bar, perching herself on a stool across from August. "I have to go to Yorkshire," she says flatly, and sets the letter from her mother onto the counter in front of him.

Sorry, Augustine, but the high never lasts nearly long enough.

—i'd burn so bright it blinded

code // art